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The  Emperor's  Retreat, 
IX  THE  Garden  of  ?vIrs.  Morant,  Brockenhurst,   Hants. 


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THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


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THE 

PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

AN   EPITOME  OF  THE  LITERATURE  OF 
THE   GARDEN -ART 

WITH   AN 

HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE 

BY 

ALBERT  FORBES  SIEVEKING,  F.S.A. 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


LONDON 

J.    M.    DEXT    &    CO 

ALDINE  HOUSE,  29  &  30  BEDFORD  STREET,  W.C. 

1899 


All  rights  reserved 


MARGARET  AND  MARGOT 


PROLOGUE 

I  SHOULD  not  perhaps  venture  now  for  the  first  time  to  set 
adrift  upon  the  flowing  tide  of  garden  literature,  old  and  new, 
a  volume  such  as  this ;  but  when  the  first  edition  of  '  The  Praise 
of  Gardens'  made  its  appearance  fourteen  years  ago,  it  might 
almost  have  claimed  to  be  a  pioneer  in  the  revival  of  old  garden 
books.  Imperfect  as  it  was  in  execution,  it  sought  to  bring 
together  a  series  of  prose  passages  giving  an  historical  survey  of 
their  delightful  subject ;  to  show  lovers  of  gardens  and  literature 
alike  that  the  title  of  the  volume  was  meant  in  the  good  old  wide- 
embracing  sense  of  Elizabethan  days,  when  to  praise  a  subject 
was  also  to  appraise  and  appreciate  it.  If  that  aim  more  nearly 
hits  the  mark  in  the  present  edition,  by  means  of  the  many 
passages  omitted  and  added,  which  fourteen  years'  further  famili- 
arity with  the  sources  have  suggested,  the  collection  may  better 
deserve  the  eulogy,  '  a  scholarly  little  book,'  passed  upon  its 
infancy  in  all  too  indulgent  and  encouraging  conversation  by  my 
friend  and  master,  Walter  Pater.  At  least  I  trust  that  the  unity 
of  its  subject,  garden-art  or  design,  will  in  some  degree  fuse  and 
harmonise  the  variety  of  voices  joining  in  the  choir  of  praise. 

It  is  vain  to  expect  that  everyone  will  be  satisfied  with  the 
choice,  and  that  all  will  find  their  favourite  authors  quoted  or 
their  favourite  gardens  mentioned-  Many  will  wonder  why  poetry 
is  so  poorly  represented,  one  reason  perhaps  being  that  poetry  is 
richer  in  flowers  than  in  gardens,  and  it  is  with  gardens  as  a 
whole,  rather  than  their  contents,  that  this  book  is  busy.  Besides, 
in  a  garden   everyone  is  his  or  her  own  poet.     Moreover,  are 


viii  PROLOGUE 

there  not  verse  Anthologies  enough  and  to  spare  ?  Of  the  gaps 
in  my  garden-hedges  I  am  only  too  conscious,  marvelling  how 
I  can  have  overlooked  such  obvious  and  striking  claims.  Where 
are  the  Garland  and  Plant  lore  of  Athenseus  and  Theophrastus, 
and  the  Garden  'Points'  of  old  Thomas  Tusser?  Where  are 
BuUeyn's  '  Bulwarks  of  Defence,'  Andrew  Borde's  '  Dyetary  of 
Health,'  and  Bishop  Grossteste's  '  Boke  of  Husbandry '  ?  Where 
are  the  lines  of  the  Poet-King  James  I.  of  Scotland  on  Windsor 
Garden?  And  why  is  Gerarde  preferred  to  his  predecessor,  Dr 
Wm.  Turner?  Why  find  we  no  mention  of  Raleigh's  Gardens 
at  Beddington,  or  at  Sherborne,  described  by  Pope  ?  Where  are 
Ralph  Austen  and  Sir  Hugh  Piatt,  John  de  Garlande  (1081), 
Jon  Gardener  (1440),  John  Rea,  John  Rose,  John  Tradescant, 
John  Reid  (author  of  the  'Scots'  Gard'ner,'  1683,  the  earliest 
Scotch  garden-book),  John  Dalrymple  (are  all  gardeners 
Johns  ?),  James  Justice,  and  Gibson's  '  Gardens  about  London,' 
1691  ? 

Well,  some  are  to  be  found  in  the  Epilogue,  some  are  perhaps 
too  exclusively  technical,  and  the  absence  of  the  others  can  only 
be  explained  by  the  short  word,  Space  ! 

And  now  to  the  real  purpose  of  this  Prologue,  that  of  most 
Prologues,  Thanks ! 

Where  all  is  borrowed  it  seems  invidious  to  make  distinctions 
in  gratitude.  And  so  '  to  the  Great  Men  of  the  Past '  who  un- 
consciously lend  their  names  and  writings  to  the  following  pages 
I  offer  my  deepest  and  most  reverent  thanks.  To  the  living 
writers  (and  their  publishers)  who  in  this  edition  or  the  last  have 
allowed  me  to  quote  from  their  works,  I  repeat  my  sense  of  their 
kindness  and  my  obligation. 

In  regard  to  the  Art  contributions,  first  and  foremost  to  Mr 
George  S.  Elgood,  R.L,  for  his  liberality  in  allowing  nie  to  make 


PROLOGUE  ix 

a  selection  from  many  of  his  beautiful  and  famous  drawings,  I  am 
most  sincerely  grateful. 

To  Mrs  William  Graham  I  am  indebted  for  permission  to  copy 
her  lovely  water-colour  of  '  The  Lady  in  the  Garden,'  by  Frederick 
Walker,  which  makes  so  poetical  a  frontispiece,  and  Walker's  own 
comment  strikes  an  admirable  key-note  to  the  book :  '  The  Garden 
is  the  perfection  of  Peace  and  Loveliness.' 

To  Miss  Ella  Sykes,  author  of  'Through  Persia  on  a  Side- 
Saddle,'  I  owe  my  thanks  for  leave  to  use  'the  Garden  of 
Fin,  at  Kashan ' ;  and  for  the  sixth  photogravure,  '  In  a  Scotch 
Walled  Garden,'  I  am  indebted  to  the  photographic  skill  of  my 
brother-in-law,  Mr  A.  G.  Campbell,  as  well  as  for  the  view  of 
the  Inn  Garden  at  Nara,  Japan,  taken  upon  his  travels. 

To  Professor  Brinckmann,  Director  of  the  Arts  and  Crafts 
Museum  at  Hamburg,  I  am  under  deep  obligation  for  the  artistic 
and  altruistic  impulse  which  prompted  him  to  place  at  my  disposal 
and  send  to  England  a  large  case  of  rare  engravings  selected  by 
himself,  at  a  sacrifice  of  great  labour  and  time,  from  the  fine  and 
perhaps  unique  historical  collection  of  Garden  Prints,  which  he 
has  formed  for  the  Museum,  and  exhibited  at  the  great  Gardening 
Exhibition  in  Hamburg,  1897. 

I  must  further  thank  Mrs  W.  A.  Wills  for  her  photograph 
of  the  Pond  Garden,  at  Hampton  Court ;  and  Mr  George 
Clausen,  A.R.A.,  for  procuring  me  the  photograph  of  the  Pom- 
peian  Garden. 

To  the  three  chief  Histories  of  Gardening  in  English,  viz.  : — 
(i)  The  general  one  prefixed  to  J.  C.  Loudon's  '  Encyclopaedia 
of  Gardening '  (1834),  a  masterly  and  exhaustive  treatise, 
which  only  requires  to  be  brought  down  to  date : 
(ii)  George  W.  Johnson's  '  History  of  English  Gardening ' 
(1829),  which  also  strongly  merits  the  honour  of  a  second 
edition :  and 


X  PROLOGUE 

(iii)  Hon.    Alicia    Amherst's    '  History    of    Gardening    in 
England'  (1895) — 
my  obligations  are  none  the  less  great  that  it  is  impossible  to 
express  them  every  time  they  are  incurred. 

Finally,  to  my  old  friend  Francis  Henry  Cripps-Day  for  general 
and  generous  assistance  given  me  unstintingly  in  revising  the 
book,  as  well  as  for  the  labour  of  preparing  the  Index  {non  solum 
verborum,  sed  amiciticB),  I  am  heartily  grateful. 

And  now  a  last  word  of  egoistic  reverie.  Where  may  one  in- 
dulge in  day-dreams,  if  not  in  a  garden  ?  My  dream  is  of  a  Library 
in  a  Garden  !  In  the  very  centre  of  the  garden  away  from  house 
or  cottage,  but  united  to  it  by  a  pleached  alley  or  pergola  of  vines 
or  roses,  an  octagonal  book-tower  like  Montaigne's  rises  upon 
arches  forming  an  arbour  of  scented  shade.  Between  the  book- 
shelves, windows  at  every  angle,  as  in  Pliny's  Villa  library, 
opening  upon  a  broad  gallery  supported  by  pillars  of  '  faire 
carpenter's  work,'  around  which  cluster  flowering  creepers,  follow 
the  course  of  the  sun  in  its  play  upon  the  landscape.  '  Last 
stage  of  all,'  a  glass  dome  gives  gaze  upon  the  stars  by 
night,  and  the  clouds  by  day :  *  les  nuages .  . .  les  nuages  qui 
passent ...  la  bas  ...  les  merveilleux  nuages  ! '  And  in  this 
BIBAIOKHIIOS — this  Garden  of  Books — Sui  et  Amicorum,  would 
pass  the  coloured  days  and  the  white  nights,  '  not  in  quite  blank 
forgetfulness,  but  in  continuous  dreaming,  only  half-veiled  by 
sleep.' 

A.  FORBES  SIEVEKING. 

12  Seymour  Street,  Portman  Square, 
November  1 899. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Prologue        ........         vii 

List  of  Illustrations         ......        xiv 

Hortortim  Lattdes  .......         xvi 

CHAPTER  I 

A^'CIENT  Egyptian,  Hebrew,  Persian,  Syrian,  Greek 
AND  Roman  Gardens 

Egyptian  MS.  (igth  Dynasty) — Solomon — Homer — Xenophon — Plato — 
Aristotle — Theophrastus  — Epicurus  — Theocritus  —  Cato  —  Cicero  — 
Varro  —  Diodorus  Siculus  —  Pliny  the  elder — Pliny  the  youngei — 
Plutarch  —  Columella  —  Tacitus  —  Seneca  —  Quintilian  —  Lucian  — 
Palladius .........         1-22 

CHAPTER  II 

Some  Early  Christian  and  Late  Pagan  Writers 
ON  the  Garden 

St  Jerome — T'Ao  Ytian-ming — Longus — Tatius — Mohammad — Chou-tim-i 

— Lien-tschen — William  of  Malmesbury  .  .  .  23-29 

CHAPTER  III 

Medi/«:val,  Renaissance  and  Tudor  Gardens 

Neckham  —  Petrarch  —  St  Bernard  —  Brunetto  Latini  —  Maundeville  — 
Boccaccio — Machiavelli — Erasmus — More — Luther — Gawen'Douglas 
— Baber — Fitzherbarde — Polydore  Vergil — C.  Estienne — Palissy — Du 
Cerceau  —  Heresbach  —  Googe  —  Montaigne  —  Tasso  —  Treveris  — 
Leland — Coesalpinus — De  Serres  .....       30-61 

CHAPTER  IV 

Elizabethan  and  Stuart  Gardens 

Gerarde — Lyly — Sidney — Bacon — Hentzner  —  Drayton — Parkinson — Hill 
{Dydymus  Mauntaine)  —  Maschal  —  Lawson  —  Laneham — Wotton — 
Bishop  Hall — Burton — Taylor  {the  Water  Poet) — Comenius — Harrison 
— George  Herbert — Gassendi — Howell — Sir  W.  Waller  .  .       62-93 


xii  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Formal  Garden  in  the  Seventeenth  Century  under 
French  and  Dutch  Influence  :  Oriental  Travellers  on 
Persian  and  Japanese  Gardens 

Sir  T.  Browne— Milton— Fuller— Cowley — Hartlib — Le  Notre— Evelyn — 
Shaftesbury — De  la  Quintinye — De  S6vign6 — Bunyan — Ray — Meager 
— Temple — Huet — Pepys — London  and  Wise  —  Mandelslo — Chardin 
— Dufresny — Kaempfer — Worlidge       .....     94-130 


CHAPTER  VI 

Decline  of  the  Formal  and  Indications  of  the  Natural  or 
Landscape  Garden  in  the  First  Half  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century 

Defoe — Switzer — Swift — Addison — St  Simon — Bolingbroke — Kent — Pope 

Montesquieu — Miller — Voltaire — Chesterfield — Batty  Langley  .    131-153 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  Sentimental,  Landscape,  and  Park  Schools  of  Garden- 
ing,founded  upon  Painting  ;  and  the  Chinese  and  English 
'Natural'  Styles,  at  the  End  of  the  Eighteenth  Century 

Kames — Spence— Chatham — Johnson — De  Brosses — Rousseau — Sterne — 
Diderot — Shenstone — Brown  {Capability) — Gray — Horace  Walpole — 
Watelet — Gilbert  White — Adam  Smith — W.  Mason  and  Burgh — Sir 
W,  Chambers  —  Wilkes  —  Goldsmith  —  Kant  —  Bradley  —  Erasmus 
Darwin — Cowper  .......    154-193 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Garden  Design  as  a  Liberal  or  Fine  Art  :  The  '  Composition  ' 
OF  Nature  or  Landscape — Reaction  of  the  '  Picturesque  ' 
Writers — Eclecticism,  Cosmopolitanism  and  Romanticism 
in  Garden  Literature. 

Whately  —  Prince  de  Ligne  —  Girardin — G.  Mason — Gibbon — L'Abb^ 
Delille — Young — Uvedale  Price — Goethe — Payne  Knight — Windham 
— Repton — Joubert — Alison  —Schiller — Beckford — Cobbett — de  Stael 
— Maine  de  Biran — Isaac  Disraeli — Alex,  von  Humboldt        ,  .    194-232 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  xiii 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  IX 

The  Garden  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

Wordsworth — Scott — Southey — Sydney  Smith — Lamb — Landor — Hallam 
— Lord  Campbell — Humphry  Davy — Washington  Irving — Leigh 
Hunt — John  Wilson  {Chris.  North) — Thomas  Love  Peacock — Byron 
— Schopenhauer  — Lamartine — Shelley — Thomas  Arnold — Whewell — 
Heine — Alcott — Newman — Victor  Hugo — Bulwer  Lytton — Douglas 
Jerrold — George  Sand — Benjamin  Disraeli — Hawthorne  —  Alphonse 
Karr — O.  W.  Holmes — Poe — Maurice  de  Gu^rin — Gautier — Kinglake 
— Thoreau  —  Baudelaire  —  Amiel — de  Goncourt — Renan — Mortimer 
Collins — ']a.me.s{'  Carthusian  ') — '  Quarterly  Review' — Helps — Stii^ling 
Maxwell — Watson — Ruskin  —  Matthew  Arnold — William  Morris — 
Walter  Pater — 'Vernon  Lee' — Mrs  Meynell — Henry  Bright — George 
Milner — Alfred  Austin — Zola — R.  Blomfield  and  Inigo  Thomas — 
Mrs  J.  F.  Foster  —  William  Robinson  —  Phil  Robinson  —  Charles 
Dudley  Warner — D'Annunzio — '  E.  V.  B.'       .  .  .  .    233-313 

Historical  Epilogue  ......        315 

Index  .........        415 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

1.  The  Lady  in  the  Garden,  Stobhall,  Perthshire.     Fred 

Walker,  A.R.A.         .  .  .  .  .        Frontispiece 

?AGK 

2.  An  Ancient  Egyptian  Garden  (a/?«r  ^(jj^/Z/m")          .  .            2 

3.  Generalife,  Granada,  Spain.   George  S.  Elgood,  R.  I.  To  face    86 

4.  The  Garden  of  Fin,  Kashan,  Persia             .            .  Tofcue  127 

5.  Villa  MuTi,  Frascati,  Italy.   George  S.  Elgood,  R.I.  Tofcue  161 

6.  Brockenhurst,  Hampshire.     George  S.  Elgood,  R.I.  Tofcue  212 

7.  In  a  Scotch  Walled  Garden  {from  a  Photograph  by  A.  G. 

Campbell)  ......         To  face  289 

8.  Inner  Garden  of  the  House  of  Aulus  Vettius,  recently 

excavated  at  Pompeii  .....        323 

9.  Plan  of  the  Abbey  Garden  of  St  Gall,  by  a  Monk  of  the 

Ninth  Century  ......        325 

10.  'The    Garden  of   Love.'    From  the    earliest    known 

Flemish  engraving  (ci7xa  1450),  by  '  Der  Meister  der 
Liebesgarten  '  ......        329 

11.  The  Terraced  Gardens  of  St  Germain-en-Laye,  1523. 

From  G.  Braun's  '  Civitates  orbis  Terrarum.'    .  .        333 

12.  The  Tudor   'Pond  Yard'  or  Garden,  Hampton  Court, 

in  its  Present  State  (from  a  Photograph  by  Mrs  W.  A. 

Wills) 335 

13.  The  Villa  d'Este,  Tivoli.     After  Piranesi,  1765    .  .        339 

14.  '  Hortus  Penbrochianus.'    From  '  Le  Jardin  de  Wilton,' 

BY  Isaac  de  Caus,  1640  .  •  .  .  .        344 

15.  A    Garden,    engraved   by  Crispin    de  Pass.     From  the 

'  Hortus  Floridus,'  Arnheim,  1614  .  .  .        347 

16.  The  Title-Page  of  Gerarde's  '  Herball,'  ist  Edition,  1597        349 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xy 


PAGE 


17.  Portrait  OF  Sir  Philip  Sidney  IN  THE  Garden  AT  Penshurst       353 

18.  Portrait  of  Le  Notre.     After  Carlo  Maratti       .  .        355 

19.  Perspective    View    of    the    Chateau  and  Gardens  of 

Versailles.     Engraved  by  A.    Perelle,  after  Israel 
Sylvestre  (circa  1688)  .....         359 

20.  *  Le  Theatre  d'Eau,'  Versailles.     From  an  Engraving  by 

Perelle  {circa  1660)     ......         361 

21.  '  Les  Bains  d'Apollon,'  Versailles.     From  an  Engraving 

BY  J.  Rigaud    .......        365 

22.  '  La  Salle  de  Bal,'  Versailles.    After  Cottel,  1688  .        367 

23.  Portrait    of    John    Evelyn.      After    Nanteuil    (with 

autograph)     .  .  .  .  .  .  -371 

24.  View  of  the  Dutch  Garden  at  Jacobsdahl  .  .  .        376 

25.  Bird's-Eye  View  of  Hampton  Court  and  Gardens.    From 

Kip's 'Britannia  Illustrata' (1706-1710)  .  .        379 

26.  Parterre  from   Portico  of  House  at  Stowe,  Bucks,  as 

Designed  by  Bridgman,  1714-1739    ....        381 

27.  Plan  of  Pope's  Garden  at  Twickenham  at  the  Time  of 

HIS  Death,  by  his  Gardener,  John  Serle  .  .        385 

28.  The    Gardens    of    Trinity    College,    Oxford.      From 

Williams'  'OxoNiA  Depicta,' 1732-3  .  .  .        387 

29.  '  The  Garden  of  Gardens',  Pekin,  begun  1723         .  .        391 

30.  Esher,  as  laid  out  by  Kent  for  Henry  Pelham  (1725-1735). 

From  a  Drawing  by  Woollet  (1801)  .  .  .        395 

31.  View  of  the  Pavilion  and  '  Jeu  de  Bague  '  in  the  Garden 

of  Monceau(x),  as  laid  out  by  Carmontelle     .  .  400 

32.  Japanese  Mountain  Garden  in  the  '  Shin  '  or  '  Finished 

Style '.......        406 

33.  Inn   Garden  at  Nara,  Japan  {frorn  a  Photograph  by  A.  G. 

Campbell)  .......         408 

34.  '  Le  Bosquet  de  Bacchus.'    Engraved  by  C.  N.  Cochin, 

after  A  Painting  BY  Watteau         .  .  .  .411 


HORTORUM   LAUDES. 


T0I2  'AnO  TfiN  KHnnN  TAYTA  XAPIZOMAI. 


"2i>  TOVTo  TTpos  (fj.i  iv  r(f5  K-qTr(^  vwb  rah  ddtpvais  avrbs  ^<py)<jda  evvevoi^Keval." 

— Plato  to  Dionysius. 

"Cogito  trans  Tiberim  hortos  aliquos  parare,  et  quidem  ob  hanc  causam  maxime :  nihil 
enim  video  quod  tarn  celebre  esse  possit."— Czc«ro  ad  Atticum. 

"  Hie  mibi  magis  arridet,  ut  est  sua  cuique  sententia,  etiam  in  Hortis." — E7-asinus. 

"  Adsis,  nam  Laudes  nostri  cantabimus  Horti." — Gilbert  Cousin,  1552. 

"  Mio  picciol  orto, 
A  me  sei  vigna,  e  campo,  e  silva,  e  prato." — Baldi. 

"  In  garden  delights  'tis  not  easy  to  hold  a  mediocrity ;  that  insinuating  pleasure  is  seldom 
without  some  extremity." — Sir  Thoinas  Brozviie. 

"  And  I  beseech  you,  forget  not  to  informe  yourselfe  as  dilligently  as  may  be,  in  things  that 
belong  to  Gardening."—/"^'"  Evelyn. 

"  My  Garden  painted  o'er 
With  Nature's  hand,  not  Art's." — Cowley. 

"  Consult  the  Genius  of  the  Place  in  all." — Pope. 

"  11  faut  cultiver  notre  Jardin." — Voltaire. 

"  Les  Jardins  appelaient  les  champs  dans  leur  sijour  ; 
Les  Jardins  dans  les  champs  vont  entrer  a  leur  tour  : 

Chacun  d'eux  a  ses  droits  ;  n'excluons  I'un  ni  I'autre 

Je  ne  decide  point  entre  Kent,  et  Le  Notre." — L'Abbi  De  Lille. 

"Peres  de  famille,  inspirez  \ijardinotnanie  a  vos enfants." — Prince  de  Ligne. 

„@ine  mit  ®t\ii  Umiii  unb  buret)  ^un^t  cralticrte  yiii\\x."—SchiiUr. 

"  Nothing  is  more  completely  the  child  of  Art  than  a  Garden." — Sir  Walter  Scott. 

"  Laying  out  grounds  may  be  considered  as  a  Liberal  Art." — Wordsworth. 

"  Exclusiveness  in  a  garden  is  a  mistake  as  great  as  it  is  in  society." — Alfred  Austin. 

"  What  may  be  called  the  literary  history  of  gardening  shall  be  succinctly  and  impartially 
attempted." — Dallaway. 

"  It  is  a  natural  consequence  that  those  who  cannot  taste  the  actual  fruition  of  a  garden 
should  take  the  greater  delight  in  reading  about  one.  But  the  enjoyment  next  below  actual 
possession  seems  to  be  derived  from  writing  on  the  topic." — Quarterly  Review,  1S51. 

"  Any  book  I  see  advertised  that  treats  of  Gardens  I  immediately  buy." 

"  The  Solitary  Sutttmer,'^  1899. 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

CHAPTER  I 

ANCIENT    EGYPTIAN,    HEBREW,    PERSIAN,    SYRIAN,    GREEK    AND 
ROMAN    GARDENS 

O  HE  led  me,  hand  in  hand,  and  we  went  into  her  garden  to  EGYPTIAN 
'^     converse  together.  MS. 

There  she  made  me  taste  of  excellent  honey.  j5_c.  i-'w).^  ^' 

The  rushes  of  the  garden  \vere  verdant,  and  all  its  bushes  flourishing. 

There  were  currant  trees  and  cherries  redder  than  the  ruby.^ 

The  ripe  peaches  -  of  the  garden  resembled  bronze, 

and  the  groves  had  the  lustre  of  the  stone  nashem?" 

The  metini^  unshelled  like  cocoa-nuts  they  brought  to  us, 

its  shade  was  fresh  and  airy,  and  soft  for  the  repose  of  love  ; 

'  Come  to  me,'  she  called  unto  me, 

'  and  enjoy  thyself  a  day  in  the  room  of 

a  young  girl  who  belongs  to  me, 

the  garden  is  to-day  in  its  glory ; 

there  is  a  terrace  and  a  parlour.' 

'  The  Tale  of  the  Garden  of  Flowers^  translated  by  M. 
Francois  Chabas  {^  Records  of  the  Fast,''  Egyptian  Texts). 

Gardens  are  frequently  represented  in  the  tombs  of  Thebes 
and  other  parts  of  Egypt,  many  of  which  are  remarkable  for 
their  extent.  The  one  here  introduced  is  shown  to  have  been 
surrounded  by  an  embattled  wall,  with  a  canal  of  water  passing 
in  front  of  it,  connected  with  the  river.  Between  the  canal  and 
the  wall,  and  parallel  to  them  both,  was  a  shady  avenue  of  various 
trees  ;  and  about  the  centre  was  the  entrance,  through  a  lofty  door 

^  Fruits  termed  Kaion  and  Tipau,  which  probably  had  nothing  in  common 
with  cherries  and  currants  except  their  colour. 
-  The  Persea  fruit,  a  species  of  sacred  almond. 

^  Green  felspar,  or  Amazon  stone.  ••  An  unknown  fruit. 

A 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


whose  lintel  and  jambs  were  decorated  with  hieroglyphic  inscrip- 
tions, containing  the  name  of  the  owner  of  the  grounds,  who  in 
this  instance  was  the  King  himself. 

The  vines  were  traced  on  a  trellis-work,  supported  by  transverse 


QfrrvY 


^v^w^v^inrvv>^vv.'v»'>«''^v-»'V 


m^mmmurim^^mt^rd 


An  Ancient  Egyptian  Garden  (after  Rosellini). 

rafters  resting  on  pillars ;  and  a  wall  extending  round  it  separated 
this  part  from  the  rest  of  the  garden.  At  the  upper  end  were 
suites  of  rooms  on  three  different  storeys,  looking  upon  green 
trees,  and  affording  a  pleasant  retreat  in  the  heat  of  summer 


SOLOMON  3 

On  the  outside  of  the  vineyard  wall  were  planted  rows  of  palms, 
which  occurred  again  with  the  dd7n  and  other  trees,  along  the 
whole  length  of  the  exterior  wall :  four  tanks  of  water,  bordered 
by  a  grass  plot,  where  geese  were  kept,  and  the  delicate  flower  of 
the  lotus  was  encouraged  to  grow,  served  for  the  irrigation  of  the 
grounds ;  and  small  kiosks,  or  summer-houses,  shaded  with  trees, 
stood  near  the  water,  and  overlooked  beds  of  flowers. — Sir  J. 
Gardner  IVi/kinson,  '  The  Ancient  Egyptians.^  ^ 

A     GARDEN  enclosed  is  my  sister,  my  spouse ;  a  spring  shut  SOLOMON 
^     up,  a  fountain  sealed.  ^^•^-  ^°^^' 

Thy  plants  are  an  orchard  of  pomegranates,  with  pleasant  fruits  ; 
camphire,  with  spikenard. 

Spikenard  and  saffron ;  calamus  and  cinnamon,  with  all  trees 
of  frankincense  ;  myrrh  and  aloes,  with  all  the  chief  spices. 

A  fountain  of  gardens,  a  well  of  living  waters,  and  streams 
from  Lebanon. 

Awake,  O  north  wind  :  and  come,  thou  south ;  blow  upon  my 
garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  flow  out.  Let  my  beloved  come 
into  his  garden,  and  eat  his  pleasant  fruits. — T/ie  So/ig  of  Solomon. 

—Al\/\r/— 

A  ND  without  the  court-yard  hard  by  the  door  is  a  great  garden,  HOMER  (f.c. 
■'*■  of  four  plough-gates,  and  a  hedge  runs  round  on  either  side.  962-927). 
And  there  grow  tall  trees  blossoming,  pear-trees  and  pomegranates, 
and  apple-trees  with  bright  fruit,  and  sweet  figs,  and  olives  in 
their  bloom.  The  fruit  of  these  trees  never  perisheth,  neither 
faileth  winter  or  summer,  enduring  through  all  the  year.  Ever- 
more the  West  Wind  blowing  brings  some  fruits  to  birth  and 

^  From  an  interesting  paper  in  the  Morning  Post  by  Mr  Percy  E.  Newberry, 
I  gather,  while  correcting  these  proof  sheets,  that  there  is  a  Tomb  at  Thebes 
of  a  man  named  Nekht,  who,  under  Thotmes  IT  I.  (about  1500  B.C.),  held 
the  office  of  Head  Gardener  of  the  Gardens  attached  to  the  Temple  of  Karnak, 
which  there  is  good  reason  to  suppose  were  designed  by  him  as  represented  in 
our  illustration.  This  tomb  was  discovered  first  by  Mr  Robert  Hay  early  in 
the  century,  during  a  residence  of  thirteen  years  in  the  Nile  Valley,  and  has 
now  been  re-explored  and  excavated  afresh  by  Mr  Newberry,  Lord  Northamp- 
ton, and  Dr  Spiegelberg. 


4  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

ripens  others.  Pear  upon  pear  waxes  old,  and  apple  on  apple, 
yea,  and  cluster  ripens  upon  cluster  of  the  grape,  and  fig  upon 
fig.  There  too  hath  he  a  fruitful  vineyard  planted,  whereof  the 
one  part  is  being  dried  by  the  heat,  a  sunny  plot  on  level  ground, 
while  other  grapes  men  are  gathering,  and  yet  others  they  are  tread- 
ing in  the  wine-press.  In  the  foremost  row  are  unripe  grapes  that 
cast  the  blossom,  and  others  there  be  that  are  growing  black  to 
vintaging.  There  too,  skirling  the  furthest  line,  are  all  manner  of 
garden  beds,  planted  trimly,  that  are  perpetually  fresh,  and  therein 
are  two  fountains  of  water,  whereof  one  scatters  his  streams  all 
about  the  garden,  and  the  other  runs  over  against  it  beneath  the 
threshold  of  the  court-yard,  and  issues  by  the  lofty  house,  and 
thence  did  the  townsfolk  draw  water. — These  were  the  splendid 
gifts  of  the  gods  in  the  palace  of  Alcinous. — Odyssey,  VII.  {Done 
into  English  Prose  by  S.  H.  Butcher  and  A.  Lang.) 

— "AA/V^ — 

XENOPHON  COGITATES.— But  in  some  part  of  Persia  there  is  a  great 
(B.C.  444-359).  prince  called  Satrapa,  who  takes  upon  him  the  ofifice  both 

of  soldiery  and  husbandry. 

Critobulus. — If  the  king  acts  as  you  inform  me,  he  seems  to 
take  as  much  delight  in  husbandry  as  he  does  in  war. 

Soc.  —  I  have  not  yet  done  concerning  him  ;  for  in  every  country 
where  he  resides,  or  passes  a  little  time,  he  takes  care  to  have 
excellent  gardens  (such  as  are  called  Paradeisioi),^  filled  with 
every  kind  of  flower  or  plant  that  can  by  any  means  be  collected, 
and  in  these  places  are  his  chief  delight. 

Crit. — By  your  discourse  it  appears  also,  that  he  has  a  great 

^  '  A  Paradise  seems  to  have  been  a  large  Space  of  Ground,  adorned  and 
beautified  with  all  Sorts  of  Trees,  both  of  Fruits  and  of  Forest,  either  found 
there  before  it  was  inclosed,  or  planted  after ;  either  cultivated  like  Gardens, 
for  Shades  and  for  Walks,  with  Fountains  or  Streams,  and  all  Sorts  of  Plants 
usual  in  the  Climate,  and  pleasant  to  the  Eye,  the  Smell  or  the  Taste  ;  or 
else  employed  like  our  Parks  for  Inclosure  and  Harbour  of  .all  Sorts  of  Wild 
Beasts,  as  well  as  for  the  Pleasure  of  Riding  and  Walking :  And  so  they 
were  of  more  or  less  extent,  and  of  differing  Entertainment,  according  to  the 
several  Humours  of  the  Princes  that  ordered  and  inclosed  them.' — {Sir  William 
Temple  :   Upon  the  Gardens  of  Epicurus.) 


PLATO  5 

delight  in  gardening;  for,  as  you  intimate,  his  gardens  are 
furnished  with  every  tree  and  plant  that  the  ground  is  capable 
of  bringing  forth.  .  .  . 

When  Lysander  brought  presents  to  Cyrus  from  the  cities  of 
Greece,  that  were  his  confederates,  he  received  him  with  the 
greatest  humanity,  and  amongst  other  things  showed  him  his 
garden,  which  was  called  '  The  Paradise  of  Sardis ' ;  which 
when  Lysander  beheld  he  was  struck  with  admiration  of  the 
beauty  of  the  trees,  the  regularity  of  their  planting,  the  evenness 
of  their  rows,  and  their  making  regular  angles  one  to  another ; 
or,  in  a  word,  the  beauty  of  the  quincunx  order  in  which  they 
were  planted,  and  the  delightful  odours  which  issued  from  them. 
Lysander  could  no  longer  refrain  from  extolling  the  beauty  of 
their  order,  but  more  particularly  admired  the  excellent  skill 
of  the  hand  that  had  so  curiously  disposed  them  ;  which  Cyrus 
perceiving,  answered  him  :  '  All  the  trees  which  you  here  behold 
are  of  my  own  appointment ;  I  it  was  that  contrived,  measured, 
laid  out  the  ground  for  planting  these  trees,  and  I  can  even  show 
you  some  of  them  that  I  planted  with  my  own  hands.' — '  CEcono- 
vncus,'  h-anslatcd  by  R.  Bradley,  F.R.S. 

—^j'jX/v-— 

COCRATES.  Lead  on  then,  and  at  the  same  time  look  out  PLATO 
for  a  place  where  we  may  sit  down.  ^^'^'  427-347;' 

Phcedrus.  Do  you  see  that  lofty  plane-tree  ? 

Socr.  How  should  I  not. 

Phcc.  There,  there  is  both  shade  and  a  gentle  breeze,  and  grass 
to  sit  down  upon,  or,  if  we  prefer  it,  to  lie  down  on. 

Socr.  Lead  on,  then. 

Socr.  By  Juno,  a  beautiful  retreat.  For  this  plane-tree  is  very 
wide-spreading  and  lofty,  and  the  height  and  shadiness  of  this 
agnus  castus  are  very  beautiful,  and  as  it  is  now  at  the  perfection 
of  its  flowering,  it  makes  the  spot  as  fragrant  as  possible.  More- 
over, a  most  agreeable  fountain  flows  under  the  plane  tree,  of  very 
cold  water,  to  judge  from  its  effect  on  the  foot.  It  appears  from 
these  images  and  statues  to  be  sacred  to  certain  nymphs  and  to 
Achelous.     Observe  again  the  freshness  of  the  spot,  how  charm- 


6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

ing  and  very  delightful  it  is,  and  how  summer-like  and  shrill  it 
sounds  from  the  choir  of  grasshoppers.  But  the  most  delightful 
of  all  is  the  grass,  which  with  its  gentle  slope  is  naturally  adapted 
to  give  an  easy  support  to  the  head,  as  one  reclines.  So  that, 
my  dear  Phaedrus,  you  make  an  admirable  stranger's  guide. — 
'  Phcedrus,'  translated  by  H.  Carey.  ^ 

Would  a  husbandman,  who  is  a  man  of  sense,  take  the 
seeds,  which  he  values  and  which  he  wishes  to  be  fruitful, 
and  in  sober  earnest  plant  them  during  the  heat  of  summer,  in 
some  garden  of  Adonis,^  that  he  may  rejoice  when  he  sees  them 
in  eight  days  appearing  in  beauty  ? — Phcedrus  {Jowett). 

Socrates.  Of  whom  then  are  the  writings  and  institutes  relating 
to  gardening  ? 

Friend.  Of  gardeners. 

Soc.  Of  those  who  know  how  to  manage  gardens  ? 

Fr.  How  not  ? — Minos. 

'  Popular  tradition  gives  the  name  of  Academy  (Kathemnia)  to  a  place 
about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  north-west  of  the  Dipylum,  in  the  broad  belt 
of  olive-wood  which  stretches  along  both  Banks  of  the  Cephisus  from  its 
source  at  the  western  foot  of  Mt.  Pentelicus,  nearly  to  the  sea.  Thus,  though 
no  remains  of  buildings  belonging  to  it  have  as  yet  come  to  light,  the  situation 
of  the  Academy  may  be  regarded  as  approximately  ascertained.  '  It  is  on 
the  lowest  level,  where  some  water  courses  from  the  ridges  of  Lycabettus  are 
consumed  in  gardens  and  olive  plantations.  These  were  the  waters  which, 
while  they  nourished  the  shady  groves  of  the  Academy  and  its  plane  trees 
remarkable  for  their  luxuriant  growth,  made  the  air  unhealthy.  They  still 
cause  the  spot  to  be  one  of  the  most  advantageous  situations  near  Athens  for 
the  growth  of  fruit  and  pot-herbs,  and  maintain  a  certain  degree  of  verdure 
when  all  the  surrounding  plain  is  parched  with  the  heat  of  summer.'  (Leake, 
'Athens.')  It  is  said  that  Plato  taught  at  first  in  the  Academy,  but  after- 
wards in  a  garden  of  his  own  adjoining  it,  near  Colonus  Hippius.  His  house  was 
in  the  garden,  and  for  house  and  garden  he  seems  to  have  paid  3000  drachms. 
He  was  so  much  attached  to  the  place  that  though  it  was  said  to  be  unhealthy 
and  the  doctors  advised  him  to  shift  his  quarters  to  the  Lyceum  he  positively 
refused  to  do  so.  —J.  T.  Frazer.     Pausanias' s  '  Description  of  Greece. ' 

^  The  Adonis  gardens  {ktjitoi  ASuividos),  so  indicative  of  the  meaning  of  the 
festival  of  Adonis,  consisted,  according  to  Bockh,  of  plants  in  small  pots, 
which  were  no  doubt  intended  to  represent  the  garden,  where  Aphrodite 
met  Adonis.  The  Ancients  frequently  used  the  term  Adonis  gardens  pro- 
verbially, to  indicate  something  which  had  shot  up  rapidly,  such  as  lettuce, 
fennel,  barley,  wheat. — Humboldfs  '  Kosmos.' 


ARISTOTLE  7 

C  OME  plants  are  born  and  grow  by  means  of  nutriment  well  ARISTOTLE 
^  digested;  and  others,  on  the  contrary,  spring  from  residues,  ^^'^'  ^  -^'j*''* 
and  materials  quite  different.  Cultivation  causes  the  nutriment 
to  digest,  and  fertilises  it ;  this  it  is  which  produces  fruits  good  to 
eat.  The  plants  which  arise  from  this  tempering,  are  called  tame 
plants,  because  the  art  of  cultivation  has  been  profitable  to  them, 
and  has  effected,  to  some  extent,  their  education.  Those,  on  the 
contrary,  which  art  has  not  been  able  to  direct,  and  which  are 
derived  from  materials  of  which  the  conditions  are  contrary,  re- 
main wild  and  cannot  shoot  in  a  cultivated  ground.  For  Nature 
tames  plants  in  rearing  them ;  but  these  other  plants  can  only 
.  come  from  corruption.  The  caper-tree  is  one  of  the  plants  of 
this  sort.  .  .  . 

Why  is  thyme  in  Attica  so  bitter,  whilst  all  the  other  fruits  are 
so  sweet  ?  Is  it  not  because  the  soil  of  Attica  is  light  and  dry, 
so  that  plants  do  not  find  in  it  much  moisture  ?  .  .  . 

Why  do  myrtles  rubbed  between  the  fingers  seem  to  produce 
a  better  scent,  than  when  not  rubbed  ?  Is  it  not  the  same  as 
with  grapes,  of  which  the  bunches  submitted  to  the  vintage  seem 
sweeter  than  the  ones  gathered  from  the  stock  ? — '  TAe  Problems '  : 
from  the  French  of  Barthelemy  Saint- Hil aire. 

Theophrastus  attached  himself  to  Plato  and  then  to  Aristotle,  and  was  the  THEO- 
vtaster  of  the  comic  poet  JMenander :  his  true  name  of  Tyrtamus,  Aristotle  PHRASTUS 
exchanged  for  Theophrastus,  in  allusion  to  the  divine  grace  of  his  speech:   after  ^^      '^cnt.  B.C.], 
the  death  of  Aristotle,    Theophrastus  possessed  a  garden  of  his  own,  in  the 
acquisition  of  which  he  was  aided  by  Demetrius  of  Phalerus,  whose  friendship 
he  enjoyed :  he  died  at  the  age  of  eighty -Jive. 

Diogenes  Laertius  gives  an  enormous  list  of  works,  all  of  which  have  perished 
except  his  '  Characters  '  (translated  by  La  Bruyere),  the  History  and  Causes  of 
Plants,  on  Stones,  the  Senses,  atid  several  fragments :  the  Lyceum,  tttuier  his 
guidance,  was  attended  by  2000  disciples. 

There  is  no  coiuplete  English  translation  of  his  work  on  Plants, 

T  GIVE  to  Callinus  the  land  which  I  possess  at  Stagira,  and  all 
^  my  books  to  Xeleus.  As  to  my  garden,  the  walk,  and  the 
houses  adjacent  to  the  garden,  I  give  them  in  perpetuity  to  those 


EPICURUS 

(B.C.  342 


8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

of  my  friends  mentioned  below,  who  desire  to  devote  themselves 
in  common  to  study  and  philosophy  therein,  for  everyone  cannot 
always  travel :  provided  that  they  shall  not  be  able  to  alienate 
this  property ;  it  shall  not  belong  to  any  of  them  individually  ; 
but  they  shall  own  it  in  common  as  a  sacred  possession,  and 
shall  enjoy  it  peaceably  and  amicably  as  is  just  and  fitting.  I 
admit  to  this  common  enjoyment  Hipparchus,  Neleus,  Straton, 
Callinus,  Demotimus,  Democrates,  Callisthenes,  Melantus, 
Pancreon  and  Nicippus.  Aristotle,  son  of  Metrodorus  and  of 
Pythias,  shall  enjoy  the  same  rights,  and  shall  share  them  with 
these,  if  he  desire  to  devote  himself  to  philosophy ;  in  this  case 
the  eldest  shall  take  every  possible  care  of  him,  to  the  end  that 
he  may  make  progress  in  science.  I  desire  to  be  buried  in  the 
part  of  the  garden  judged  to  be  most  fitting,  and  no  excessive 
expense  shall  be  incurred  for  my  funeral  or  my  tomb.  After  the 
last  rites  have  been  paid  me  according  to  my  will,  and  the 
temple,  my  tomb,  my  garden,  and  the  walk  have  been  provided 
for,  I  direct  that  Pompylus,  who  inhabits  the  garden,  shall  keep 
the  custody  of  it,  as  before,  and  that  he  shall  likewise  have  the 
superintendence  of  all  the  rest. —  Will  of  Theophrastus ,  preserved 
by  Diogenes  Laertius. 

RUS  A  S  for  myself,  truly  (I  speak  modestly,  and  therefore  may  be 
-270).  r\.  permitted)  I  am  not  only  well  content,  but  highly  pleased 
with  the  Plants  and  Fruits  growing  in  these  my  own  little 
Gardens ;  and  have  this  Inscription  over  the  door,  '  Stranger, 
Here,  if  you  please,  you  may  abide  in  a  good  condition  \  Here, 
the  Supreme  Good  is  Pleasure ;  the  Steward  of  this  homely 
Cottage  is  hospitable,  humane,  and  ready  to  receive  you ;  He 
shall  afford  you  Barley-broth,  and  pure  water  of  the  Spring, 
and  say.  Friend,  are  you  not  well  entertained?  For,  these 
Gardens  do  not  invite  hunger,  but  satisfie  it ;  nor  encrease 
your  thirst  with  drinks,  while  they  should  extinguish  it,  but 
wholly  overcome  it  with  a  Natural  and  Grateful  Liquor.' — 
Epicurus' s  Morals^  Englished  by  W.  Charelton,  M.D.,  1655. 


THEOCRITUS  9 

SO,  I  and  Eucritus  and  the  fair  Amyntichus,  turned  aside  THEOCRITUS 
into  the  house  of  Phrasidamus,  and  lay  down  with  dehght  ^V'^  Cent.  u.c.  . 
in  beds  of  sweet  tamarisk  and  fresh  cuttings  from  the  vines, 
strewn  on  the  ground.  Many  poplars  and  elm-trees  were  waving 
over  our  heads,  and  not  far  off  the  running  of  the  sacred 
water  from  the  cave  of  the  nymphs  warbled  to  us :  in  the 
shimmering  branches  the  sun-burnt  grasshoppers  were  busy  with 
their  talk,  and  from  afar  the  little  owl  cried  softly  out  of  the 
tangled  thorns  of  the  blackberry ;  the  larks  were  singing  and 
the  hedge-birds,  and  the  turtle-dove  moaned ;  the  bees  flew 
round  and  round  the  fountains,  murmuring  softly ;  the  scent 
of  late  summer  and  of  the  fall  of  the  year  was  everywhere  : 
the  pears  fell  from  the  trees  at  our  feet,  and  apples  in  number 
rolled  down  at  our  sides,  and  the  young  plum-trees  were  bent 
to  the  earth  with  the  weight  of  their  fruit. — Idyil  VII., 
'  Tha/ysia,'  translated  by    IValter  Pater. 

Marcus  Porcitis  Cato  the  Censor,  called  by  Livy  'a  man  of  almost  iron  body  M.  PORCIUS 
and  soul' — originally  a  Sabine  farmer,  he  fought  against  Hannibal  at  the  CATO  (B.C. 
battle  of  Metaurus  :    as  'a  plant  that  deset-ved  a  better  soil'  he  was  trans-  ^34"I49)- 
planted  to  Rome  and  became  Qucestor,   Consul  and  Censor.     A  great  orator, 
more  than  I^O  of  his  orations  having  been  long  preserved,  and  one  of  the  first 
Roman    writers    '  De  Re  Rustical  or  Farm  jManagement^fragments  of  his 
'  Origines '  remain.    At  the  age  of  eighty-foiir  he  coiulucted  a  law  suit  of  his  own. 

pLANT  the  Mariscan  Fig  in  a  chalky  and  exposed  soil:  put, 
*  on  the  contrary,  into  a  rich  and  sheltered  earth  the  sorts 
from  Africa,  Cadiz,  Sagonta,  the  black  Telanus,  with  long  stalks. 
If  you  have  a  water-meadow,  you  will  not  want  hay.  If  you 
have  it  not,  smoke  the  field,  to  have  hay. 

Near  the  city,  you  will  have  gardens  in  all  styles,  every  kind 
of  ornamental  trees,  bulbs  from  Megara,  myrtle  on  palisades, 
both  white  and  black,  the  Delphic  and  Cyprian  laurel,  the 
forest  kind,  hairless  nuts,  filberts  from  Proeneste  and  Greece. 
A  city  garden,  especially  of  one  who  has  no  other,  ought  to 
be  planted  and  ornamented  with  all  possible  care. — De  Re 
Rustica.     §  VIIL 


lo  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Who  is  there  (says  Atticus)  Marcus,  that,  looking  at  these 
natural  falls,  and  these  two  rivers,  which  form  so  fine  a 
contrast,  would  not  learn  to  despise  our  pompous  follies,  and 
laugh  at  artificial  Niles,  and  seas  in  marble;  for,  as  in  our 
late  argument  you  referred  all  to  Nature,  so  more  especially 
in  things  which  relate  to  the  imagination,  is  she  our  sovereign 
mistress. — De  Legibus.     (^Introduction  to  2nd  Dialogue.) 

CICERO  XJOR  husbandry  is  onely  pleasant  and  plenteous  by  reason  of 
(B.C.  10  -43).  i>|  corne  and  medowes  and  vyneyardes  and  trees  joyned  with 
vynes  :  but  also  by  reason  of  orchardes,  gardynes,  also  fedynge 
of  cattell,  and  hyves  of  been  :  also  the  diversite  of  all  maner 
of  floures.  Nor  the  plantynge  and  settyng  of  trees  delyteth 
a  man  :  but  also  graffynges  than  the  which  the  husbande  man 
never  invented  thynge  more  crafty  and  excellent.  .  .  . 

And  for  as  moche  as  some  men  desyre  these  thynges,  let 
us  come  in  favour  withe  pleasure.  For  the  wyne  celler  of  the 
good  man  of  the  house  diligent  is  couched  full ;  also  his  oyle 
celler,  and  his  pantry,  and  all  his  house  is  full  of  rychesse, 
it  hath  abundance  of  hogges,  kydde,  lambe,  pultry  ware,  mylke, 
chese  and  hony.  Now  husbandmen  call  their  garden  a  seconde 
larder.  Also  fowlyng,  and  huntyng,  an  exercyse  at  ydle  tymes, 
maketh  these  thinges  more  savouryng.  That  whiche  I  wyll 
speke  of  the  greennes  of  medowes,  or  the  ordre  of  trees,  or 
of  the  vyneyardes,  or  of  the  maner  of  olyve  trees  I  shall  declare 
brevely.  The  grounde  well  tylled  and  ordred,  nothing  may  be 
more  plenteous  in  profyte,  nor  more  clenly  and  comly  in  syght : 
to  the  whiche  grounde  to  be  well  cherysshed,  olde  age  not 
onely  dothe  not  let  a  man,  but  also  moveth  hym  and  allureth 
hym.  For  where  may  that  olde  age  waxe  so  warme :  or  more 
warme  by  reason  of  sonnynge  place  or  fyre  :  or  upon  the  other 
parte  by  reason  of  covert,  or  waters  be  refresshed  or  cooled  more 
holsom. — '  Tullius  de  Senectute,  bothe  in  Latyn  and  Englysshe 
tonge.     Translated  by  Robert  Whitinson^  Poete- Laureate,^  i535- 


M.  TERENTIUS  VARRO  ii 

M.    T.    Varro,  the   most  learned  of  the   Romans,    historian,  philosopher,  M.TEREN- 
naturalist,  grammarian  and  poet,  was  entrttsted  by  Casar  to  purchase  the  books  TIUS 
for,    and  to    manage   all  the   Greek  and  Latin   Libraries  at  Rome.     Later,  ,  ^     ■! 

Augustus  made  him  sttperintendent  of  the  Library  founded  by  Asinius  Pollio : 
he  was  a  friend  of  Cicero,  to  zvhom  he  dedicated  '  De  Lingua  Latina,'  his  only 
extant  work  besides  '  De  Re  Rusticd,^  written  at  the  age  of  eighty.  His  Villa 
at  Casinum  was  destroyed  by  Antony. 

WOU  know  that  I  have  in  my  villa  of  Casinum  a  deep  and  clear 
*  stream,  which  threads  its  way  between  two  stone  margins. 
Its  breadth  is  57  feet,  and  bridges  must  be  crossed  to  com- 
municate from  one  part  of  my  property  to  the  other.  My  study 
(Museum)  is  situated  at  the  spot  where  the  stream  springs ;  and 
from  this  point  as  far  as  an  island  formed  by  its  junction  with 
another  water-course,  is  a  distance  of  850  feet.  Along  its  banks 
a  walk  is  laid  out  10  feet  broad,  open  to  the  sky;  between  this 
walk  and  the  country  my  aviary  is  placed,  closed  in  left  and 
right  by  high  walls.  The  external  lines  of  the  building  give  it 
some  resemblance  to  writing  tablets,  surmounted  by  a  Capitol. 
On  the  rectangular  side  its  breadth  is  48  feet,  and  its  length  72, 
not  including  the  semi-circular  Capitol,  which  is  of  a  diameter  of 
27  feet.  Between  the  aviary  and  the  walk  which  marks  the  lower 
margin  of  the  tablets,  opens  a  vaulted  passage  leading  to  an 
esplanade  (cunbulatio).  On  each  side  is  a  regular  portico  upheld 
by  stone  columns,  the  intervals  between  which  are  occupied  by 
dwarf  shrubs.  A  network  of  hemp  stretches  from  the  top  of  the 
outside  walk  to  the  architrave,  and  a  similar  trellis  joins  the 
architrave  to  the  pedestal.  The  interior  is  filled  with  birds  of 
every  species,  which  receive  their  food  through  the  net.  A  little 
stream  supplies  them  with  its  water.  Beyond  the  pedestal  run 
to  left  and  right  along  the  porticos  two  rather  narrow  fish-ponds, 
which,  separated  by  a  small  path,  extend  to  the  extremity  of  the 
esplanade.  This  path  leads  to  a  tholus,  a  kind  of  Rotunda, 
surrounded  by  two  rows  of  isolated  columns.  There  is  a  similar 
one  in  the  house  of  Catulus,  except  that  complete  walls  replace 
the  colonnade.  Beyond  is  a  grove  of  tall  brushwood  encompassed 
with  walls,  of  which  the  thick  growth  only  allows  the  light  to 
penetrate  below. — '  Of  Agriculture,'  Book  III. 


12  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

DIODORUS    T^HE  Hanging  Garden  of  Babylon  was  not  built  by  Semiramis 
SICULUS         1       ^yj^Q  founded  the  city,^  but  by  a  later  prince  called  Cyrus, 

(About  B.C.  50).  ^        ,  ,  ^  ,        ,     .  -n.       .  ,  . 

for  the  sake  of  a  courtezan,  who  being  a  Persian,  as  they  say,  by 
birth,  and  creating  meadows  on  mountain  tops,  desired  the  king, 
by  an  artificial  plantation,  to  imitate  the  land  in  Persia.  This 
garden  was  400  feet  square,  and  the  ascent  up  to  it  was  to  the 
top  of  a  mountain,  and  had  buildings  and  apartments  out  of  one 
into  another,  like  a  theatre.  Under  the  steps  to  the  ascent  were 
built  arches  one  above  another,  rising  gently  by  degrees,  which 
supported  the  whole  plantation.  The  highest  arch,  upon  which 
the  platform  of  the  garden  was  laid,  was  50  cubits  high,  and  the 
garden  itself  was  surrounded  with  battlements  and  bulwarks. 
The  walls  were  made  very  strong,  built  at  no  small  charge  and 
expense,  being  22  feet  thick,  and  every  sally  port  10  feet  wide. 
Over  the  several  storeys  of  this  fabric  were  laid  beams,  and 
summers  of  large  massy  stones,  each  16  feet  long  and  4  broad. 
The  roof  over  all  these  was  first  covered  with  reeds  daubed  with 
abundance  of  brimstone  (or  bitumen),  then  upon  them  were  laid 
double  tiles,  joined  with  a  hard  and  durable  mortar,  and  over 
them  all  was  a  covering  with  sheets  of  lead,  that  the  wet,  which 
drained  through  the  earth,  might  not  rot  the  foundation.  Upon 
all  these  was  laid  earth,  of  a  convenient  depth,  sufficient  for  the 
growth  of  the  greatest  trees.  When  the  soil  was  laid  even  and 
smooth,  it  was  planted  with  all  sorts  of  trees,  which  both  for 
beauty  and  size  might  delight  the  spectators.  The  arches,  which 
stood  one  above  the  other  had  in  them  many  stately  rooms  of  all 
kinds,  and  for  all  purposes.  There  was  one  that  had  in  it  certain 
engines,  whereby  it  drew  plenty  of  water  out  of  the  river  Euphrates, 
through  certain  conduits  hid  from  the  spectators,  which  supplied 
it  to  the  platform  of  the  garden. 

'  The  Syrians  are  great  Gardiners,  they  take  exceeding  paines,  and  bee 
most  curious  in  gardening ;  whereupon  arose  the  proverb  in  Greeke  to  this 
effect,  'Many  Woorts  and  Pot-hearbs  in  Syria.' — Pliny's  ^ Natural  History' 
{P.  Holland). 

-^AtVvv— 


PLINY  THE  ELDER  13 

77^1?  elder  Pliny  perished  in  the  eruption  of  Vesuvius^  a  martyr  to  scientific  PLINY 

curiosity.       Cuvier  says  of  his  ^Natural  History' :   ^^ Pliny's  gi'eat  work  is  THt 

at  the  same  time  one  of  the  most  precious  monuments  left  us  by  antiquity,  and  , ,,   .      „,.    . 

"^  ^      ^  { (^aius  I  liHzus 

a  proof  of  the  astonishing  learning  of  a  warrior  and  a  statesman."  Secundus 

Whewell  writes:     'His   work   has,  zvith  great  propriety,   been   called  the  a.d.  23-79). 

Encyclopcedia  of  A  ntiqtiity. ' 

T  N  all  the  twelve  tables  throughout  which  containe  our  ancient 
*  lawes  of  Rome,  there  is  no  mention  made  so  much  as  once  of 
a  Grange  or  Ferme-house,  but  evermore  a  Garden  is  taken  in  that 
signification,  and  under  the  name  of  Hortus  (t.e.  Garden)  is  com- 
prised Hoeredium,  that  is  to  say,  an  Heritage  or  Domaine ;  and 
hereupon  grew  by  consequence,  a  certain  religious  or  ridiculous 
superstition  rather,  of  some,  whom  we  see  ceremoniously  to 
sacre  and  bless  their  garden  and  hortyard  dores  onely,  for  to 
preserve  them  against  the  witchcraft  and  sorcerie  of  spightfuU 
and  envious  persons.  And  therefore  they  use  to  set  up  in 
gardens,  ridiculous  and  foolish  images  of  Satyres,  Antiques, 
and  such  like,  as  good  keepers  and  remedies  against  envie  and 
witchcraft ;  howsoever  Plautiis  assigneth  the  custodie  of  gardens 
to  the  protection  of  the  goddesse  Venus.  And  even  in  these  our 
daies,  under  the  name  of  Gardens  and  Hortyards,  there  goe  many 
daintie  places  of  pleasure  within  the  very  citie ;  and  under  the 
colour  also  and  title  of  them  men  are  possessed  of  faire  closes 
and  pleasant  fields,  yea,  and  of  proper  houses  with  a  good  circuit 
of  ground  lying  to  them,  like  pretie  fermes  and  graunges  in  the 
countrey :  all  which,  they  tearme  by  the  name  of  Gardens.  The 
invention  to  have  gardens  within  a  citie  came  up  first  by  Epicurus^ 
the  Doctor  and  master  of  all  voluptuous  idlenes,  who  devised 
such  gardens  of  pleasance  in  Athens :  for  before  his  time,  the 
manner  was  not  fn  my  citie,  to  dwell  (as  it  were)  in  the  countrey, 
and  so  to  make  citie  and  countrey  all  one,  but  all  their  gardens 
were  in  the  villages  without.  Certes  at  Rome,  a  good  garden 
and  no  more  was  thought  a  poor  man's  chievance;  it  went  (I 
say)  for  land  and  living.  The  Garden  was  the  poore  commoner's 
shambles,  it  was  all  the  market-place  he  had  for  to  provide  himselfe 
of  victuals.  .  .  . 

Certaine  it  is,  that  in  old  time,  there  was  no  market-place  at 


14  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Rome  yeelded  greater  impost  unto  the  State  than  the  Hearberie. 
.  .  .  Cato  highly  comraendeth  the  garden  Coules  or  Cabbages, 
whereby  we  may  know,  that  in  his  dales  Gardens  were  in  some 
respect.  .  .  .  And  hereupon  it  came,  that  Salads  of  hearbs  were 
called  Acedaria,^  so  little  care  and  trouble  went  to  the  pro- 
vision and  making  of  them.  .  .  .  That  quarter  of  the  Garden 
which  serveth  an  house  with  poignant  hearbs  instead  of  sauce,  to 
give  a  commendable  tast  and  seasoning  to  our  meat,  sheweth 
plainly  that  the  master  and  mistresse  thereof  were  not  woont  to 
run  in  the  Merchants  bookes  for  Spicerie,  but  chaunged  the 
Grocer  or  Apothecaries  shop,  for  the  Garden.  .  .  .  And  as 
for  the  other  quarters  set  out  with  beds  of  floures  and  sweet 
smelling  hearbs,  what  reckoning  was  made  of  them  in  old 
time  may  appeare  by  this.  That  a  man  could  not  heretofore 
come  by  a  commoner's  house  within  the  citie,  but  he  should 
see  the  windowes  beautified  with  greene  quishins  (cushions), 
wrought  and  tapissed  with  floures  of  all  colours ;  resembling 
daily  to  their  view  the  Gardens  indeed  which  were  in  out- 
villages,  as  being  in  the  very  heart  of  the  citie,  they  might 
think  themselves  in  the  countrey.  .  .  .  Let  us  give  therfore 
to  Gardens  their  due  honor;  and  let  us  not  (I  say)  deprive 
things  of  their  credit  and  authoritie,  because  they  are  common 
and  nothing  costly  :  for  I  may  tell  you,  some  of  our  nobilitie, 
yea,  and  the  best  of  the  citie,  have  not  disdained  to  take  their 
surnames  from  thence  ...  in  the  noble  house  and  lineage  of 
the  Valerii,  some  were  not  abashed  nor  ashamed  to  be  called 
Lactticini  in  regard  of  the  best  kind  of  Lectuce  that  they  either 
had  in  their  gardens  or  affected  most.  And  here  I  cannot  chuse 
but  mention  by  the  way,  the  grace  that  hath  growne  to  our  name 
by  occasion  of  some  diligence  employed  and  paines  taken  this 
way ;  whereby  certain  cherries  beare  our  name  and  are  called 
Pliniana,  in  testimonie  of  our  affection  and  love  to  that  fruit. — 
Plifiie's  *■  Naturall  Historie,^  Book  XIX.,  chap.  iv.  Translated 
by  Philemon  Holland,  Doctor  in  Physicke  (1551-1636). 

*  i.e.  a  sinecure :  from  o,  not,  and  /c^Sos,  care.      "  Acetaria  "  was  the  title 
chosen  by  John  Evelyn  for  his  '  Discourse  on  Sallets. ' 


PLINY  THE  YOUNGER  15 

MY  villa  1  is  so  advantageously  situated,  that  it  commands  a  PLINY 
full  view  of  all  the  country  round ;   yet  you  approach  it  by  YOUNGER 
so  insensible  a  rise  that  you  find  yourself  upon  an  eminence,  with-  —Nepheivof 

out  perceiving  you  ascended.     Behind,  but  at  a  srreat  distance,  ^he  elder  Plujy 
^  .  .  T,,,  (a.d.  62-116). 

stand  the  Apennme  Mountams.      In  the  calmest  days  we  are 

refreshed  by  the  winds  that  blow  from  thence,  but  so  spent,  as 
it  were,  by  the  long  tract  of  land  they  travel  over,  that  they  are 
entirely  divested  of  all  their  strength  and  violence  before  they 
reach  us.  The  exposition  of  the  principal  front  of  the  house  is 
full  south,  and  seems  to  invite  the  afternoon  sun  in  summer  (but 
somewhat  earlier  in  winter)  into  a  spacious  and  well-proportioned 
portico,  consisting  of  several  members,  particularly  a  porch  built 
in  the  ancient  manner.  In  the  front  of  the  portico  is  a  sort  of 
terrace,  embellished  with  various  figures  and  bounded  with  a 
box-hedge,  from  whence  you  descend  by  an  easy  slope,  adorned 
with  the  representation  of  divers  animals  in  box,  answering  alter- 
nately to  each  other,  into  a  lawn  overspread  with  the  soft— I  had 
almost  said  the  liquid — Acanthus  :  -  this  is  surrounded  by  a  walk 
enclosed  with  tonsile  evergreens,  shaped  into  a  variety  of  forms. 
Beyond  it  is  the  Gestatio,^  laid  out  in  the  form  of  a  circus,* 
ornamented  in  the  middle  with  box  cut  in  numberless  different 
figures,  together  with  a  plantation  of  shrubs,  prevented  by  the 
shears  from  shooting  up  too  high  ;  the  whole  is  fenced  in  by  a 
wall  covered  by  box,  rising  by  different  ranges  to  the  top.  On 
the  outside  of  the  wall  lies  a  meadow  that  owes  as  many  beauties 
to  nature,  as  all  I  have  been  describing  within  does  to  art ;  at 
the  end  of  which  are  several  other  meadows  and  fields  inter- 
spersed with  thickets.     At  the  extremity  of  this  portico  stands  a 

^  Pliny's  favourite  villa  in  Tuscany,  known  as  the  Tusculan,  about  150 
miles  from  Rome  ;  his  Laurentine  Villa  is  also  described  in  his  letters.  Both 
have  been  the  subject  of  learned  disquisition  and  restoration  by  Scamozzi, 
Felibien,  Schinkel  and  R.  Castell  in  'Villas  of  the  Ancients.' 

-  Sir  William  Temple  supposes  the  '  Acanthus '  of  the  ancients  to  be  what 
we  call  '  Pericanthe ' ;  Mr  Castell  imagines  it  resembles  moss. 

•*  Gestatio,  a  place  for  exercises  in  vehicles  :  '  the  Row.' 

■*  Circus,  set  apart  for  public  games. 


1 6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

grand  dining-room,  which  opens  upon  one  end  of  the  terrace  :  ^ 
as  from  the  windows  there  is  a  very  extensive  prospect  over  the 
meadows  up  into  the  country,  from  whence  you  also  have  a  view 
of  the  terrace  and  such  parts  of  the  house  which  project  forward, 
together  with  the  woods  enclosing  the  adjacent  hippodrome. 
Opposite  almost  to  the  centre  of  the  portico  stands  a  square 
edifice,  which  encompasses  a  small  area,  shaded  by  four  plane- 
trees,  in  the  midst  of  which  a  fountain  rises,  from  whence 
the  water,  running  over  the  edges  of  a  marble  basin,  gently 
refreshes  the  surrounding  plane-trees  and  the  verdure  underneath 
them.  ...  In  the  front  of  these  agreeable  buildings  lies  a  very 
spacious  hippodrome,  entirely  open  in  the  middle,  by  which 
means  the  eye,  upon  your  first  entrance,  takes  in  its  whole  extent 
at  one  glance.  It  is  encompassed  on  every  side  with  plane-trees 
covered  with  ivy,  so  that  while  their  heads  flourish  with  their  own 
foliage,  their  bodies  enjoy  a  borrowed  verdure ;  and  thus  the  ivy, 
twining  round  the  trunk  and  branches,  spreads  from  tree  to  tree, 
and  connects  them  together. 

Between  each  plane-tree  are  planted  box-trees,  and  behind 
these,  bay-trees,  which  blend  their  shade  with  that  of  the  planes. 
This  plantation,  forming  a  straight  boundary  on  both  sides  of  the 
hippodrome,  bends  at  the  farther  end  into  a  semicircle,  which, 
being  set  round  and  sheltered  with  cypress-trees,  varies  the 
prospect,  and  casts  a  deeper  gloom ;  while  the  inward  circular 
walks  (for  there  are  several),  enjoying  an  open  exposure,  are 
perfumed  with  roses,  and  correct,  by  a  very  pleasing  contrast, 
the  coolness  of  the  shade  with  the  warmth  of  the  sun.  Having 
passed  through  these  several  winding  alleys,  you  enter  a  straight 
walk,  which  breaks  out  into  a  variety  of  others,  divided  by  box- 
hedges.  In  one  place  you  have  a  little  meadow,  in  another  the 
box  is  cut  into  a  thousand  different  forms :  ^  sometimes  into 
letters  expressing  the  name  of  the  master ;  sometimes  that  of 
the  artificer ;  whilst  here  and  there  little  obelisks  rise,  intermixed 

^  Xystus,  terrace  (properly  a  large  portico  for  athletic  exercises). 
"^  Mathis  is  said   to  have  introduced  the  fashion  of  '  shaping '  trees,   the 
ars  topiai-ia. 


PLINY  THE  YOUNGER  17 

alternately  with  fruit-trees :  when,  on  a  sudden,  in  the  midst  of 
this  elegant  regularity,  you  are  surprised  with  an  imitation  of  the 
negligent  beauties  of  rural  nature :  in  the  centre  of  which  lies  a 
spot  surrounded  with  a  knot  of  dwarf  plane-trees.^ 

Beyond  these  is  a  walk  planted  with  the  smooth  and  twining 
Acanthus,  where  the  trees  are  also  cut  into  a  variety  of  names 
and  shapes.  At  the  upper  end  is  an  alcove  of  white  marble, 
shaded  by  vines,  supported  by  four  small  Carystian  pillars. 
From  this  bench,  the  water,  gushing  through  several  little  pipes, 
as  if  it  were  pressed  out  by  the  weight  of  the  persons  who  repose 
themselves  upon  it,  falls  into  a  stone  cistern  underneath,  from 
-whence  it  is  received  into  a  fine  polished  marble  basin,  so  artfully 
contrived  that  it  is  always  full  without  ever  overflowing. 

When  I  sup  here,  this  basin  serves  for  a  table,  the  larger  sort 
of  dishes  being  placed  round  the  margin,  while  the  smaller  ones 
swim  about  in  the  form  of  little  vessels  and  water-fowl.  Corre- 
sponding to  this,  is  a  fountain  which  is  incessantly  emptying  and 
filling;  for  the  water,  which  it  throws  up  a  great  height,  falling 
back  into  it,  is  by  means  of  two  openings,  returned  as  fast  as 
it  is  received.  Fronting  the  alcove  (reflecting  as  great  an 
ornament  to  it,  as  it  borrows  from  it)  stands  a  summer-house  of 
exquisite  marble,  the  doors  whereof  project  and  open  into  a 
green  enclosure ;  as  from  its  upper  and  lower  windows  the  eye 
is  presented  with  a  variety  of  different  verdures.  Next  to  this 
is  a  little  private  recess  (which,  though  it  seems  distinct,  may  be 
laid  into  the  same  room)  furnished  with  a  couch  ;  and  notwith- 
standing it  has  windows  on  every  side,  yet  it  enjoys  a  very 
agreeable  gloominess,  by  means  of  a  spreading  vine  which  climbs 
to  the  top  and  entirely  overshades  it.  Here  you  may  recline  and 
fancy  yourself  in  a  wood  ;  with  this  difference  only — that  you  are 
not  exposed  to  the  weather.  In  this  place  a  fountain  also  rises 
and  instantly  disappears ;  in  different  quarters  are  disposed  marble 
seats,  which  serve,  no  less  than  the  summer-house,  as  so  many 
reliefs  after  one  is  wearied  with  walking.  Near  each  seat  is  a 
little  fountain ;  and,  throughout  the  whole  hippodrome,  several 

^   The  plane-tree  was  nourished  en  wine  by  the  Romans. 
B 


1 8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

small  rills  run  murmuring  along,  wheresoever  the  hand  of  art 
thought  proper  to  conduct  them ;  watering  here  and  there 
different  spots  of  verdure,  and  in  their  progress  refreshing  the 
whole. — '  Letter  to  Apollinaris,^  translated  by  William  Melmoth. 

PLUTARCH  T~'ISSAPHERNES,  in  all  other  cases  savage  in  his  temper,  and 
[isi  Cent.  A.D.).  1  the  bitterest  enemy  that  Greece  experienced  among  the 
Persians,  gave  himself  up,  notwithstanding,  to  the  flatteries  of 
Alcibiades,  insomuch  that  he  even  vied  with  and  exceeded  him 
in  address.  For  of  all  his  gardens  that  which  excelled  in  beauty, 
which  was  remarkable  for  the  salubrity  of  its  streams  and  the 
freshness  of  its  meadows,  which  was  set  off"  with  pavilHons  royally 
adorned  and  retirements  finished  in  the  most  elegant  taste,  he 
distinguished  by  the  name  of  Alcibiades  ;  and  every  one  con- 
tinued to  give  it  that  appellation. — ^  Life  of  Alcibiades.^  Lang- 
hornets  translatioji. 

Cimon,  too,  first  adorned  the  city  with  those  elegant  and  noble 
places  for  exercise  and  disputation,  which  a  little  after  came  to  be 
so  much  admired.  He  planted  the  forum  with  plane-trees ;  and 
whereas  the  Academy  before  was  a  dry  and  unsightly  plat,  he 
brought  water  to  it,  and  sheltered  it  with  groves,  so  that  it 
abounded  with  clean  alleys  and  shady  walks. — ^  Life  of  Cimon.' 

Beside  these,  LucuUus  had  the  most  superb  pleasure-houses 
in  the  country  near  Tusculum,  adorned  with  grand  galleries  and 
open  saloons,  as  well  for  the  prospect  as  for  walks. ^  Pompey,  on 
a  visit  there,  blamed  LucuUus  for  having  made  the  villa  com- 
modious only  for  the  summer,  and  absolutely  uninhabitable  in 
the  winter.  LucuUus  answered  with  a  smile,  'What  then,  do 
you  think  I  have  not  so  much  sense  as  the  cranes  and  storks, 
which  change  their  habitations  with  the  seasons?'  —  Life  of 
LucuUus, 

For  as  these  connynge  gardiners  thynke  to  make  rosis  and 

1  Hortus  Luculli,  cujus  villa  erat  in  Tusculano,  non  floribus  fructibusque, 
sed  tabulis  fuisse  insignis.  —  Varro. 


■**N 


COLUMELLA  £9  ; 

violettis  the  better,  if  they  sowe  oynyons  and  garlyke  nere  by  j 

them,  that  what  so   ever  sower  savour  be  in  them,  it  may  be  !' 

purged  into  the  tother :   so  an  enmye  receyvynge  in  to  him  our  ' 

envie  and  waywardnes,  shal  make  us  better  and  lesse  grevous  to  !' 

our  frendis  that  have  good  fortune. — ^  Howe  one  may  take  profette  \ 

of  his  Enmyes.^     {De  capienda  ex  inimicis  utilitafe.)     Sir  Thomas  \ 
Elyot  (d.  1546). 

— ^/\/\/V>—  \ 

Columella,  native  of  Gades  {Cadtz),wrote  avokivdnous  and  valuable  work  on  COLUMELLA  j 

Roman  Agriculture,  in  twelve  books,  of  which  the  tenth  is  a  poem  on  the  vegetable  (l-"'  Cent.  A.D.).  j 

and  flower  garden,  meant  as  a  supplement  to  the  Georgics  of  Virgil.     Columella  j 

makes  use  of  the  work  of  his  predecessors,  Cato  the  Censor,   Vai-ro,  Celsus  and  i 

Atticus,   Grcecinus,  and  Mago  the  Carthaginian.     He  is  quoted  by  Pliny  the  I 

Elder,   Vegetius,  and  Palladius,  the  work  of  the  latter  superseding  Columella's.  ' 

The .  writings   of  these   three   with     Varro   are  generally  found  together    as  i 
'  Scriptores  de  Re  Rustica.'     {English  translation  by  Owen,   1803). 

npHERE  remains,  therefore,   the  culture  of  gardens,  notably  ' 

*-       neglected  formerly  by  ancient  Husbandmen,   but  now  in  1 
very  great   request.      Though   it   is   true,    indeed,   that,  among 

the  ancients  there  was  greater  parsimony  and  frugality,  never-  1 

theless  the  poor  were  wont  to  fare  better,  and  to  be  frequently  | 
admitted   to   public   feasts.  .  .  .  Wherefore  we   must   be   more 

careful  and  diligent  than  our  ancestors  were  in  delivering  pre-  j 

cepts  and  directions  for  the  cultivation  of  gardens,  because  the  j 
fruit  of  them  is  now  more  in  use ;  and  I  would  have  subjoined 
them  in  prose  to  the  preceding  books,  as  I  had  resolved,  unless 

your  frequent  and  earnest  demand  had  overcome  my  purpose,  ; 

and  prevailed  with  me  to  fill  up,  with  poetical  numbers,  those  \ 

parts  of  the  Georgic  poem,  which  were  omitted,  and  which  even  : 
Virgil  himself  intimated,  that  he  left  to  be  treated  of  by  those 

that    should    come   after    him. — '■Of  the    Culture   of  Gardens'  ' 
{Preface). 

—Ati/\jV'—  i 

lyylOREOVER,  Nero  turned  the  ruins  of  his  country  to  his  TACITUS  '• 

■^^■*-     private  advantage,  and  built  a  house,  the  ornaments  of  ^^*°'  6'""7)-  ■ 

which  were  not  miracles  of  gems  and  gold,  now  usual  in  vulgar  ' 

luxuries,  but  lawns  and  lakes,  and  after  the  manner  of  a  desert ;  j 


20  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

here  groves,  and  there  open  spaces  and  prospects ;  the  masters 
and  centurions  being  Severus  and  Celer,  whose  genius  and  bold- 
ness could  attempt  by  art  what  Nature  had  denied,  and  deceive 
with  princely  force.^ — Annals,  lib.  XV. 

SENECA  I  IVE  they  not  against  nature  that  in  winter  long  for  a  Rose, 
(d.  A.D.  65).  L/  ^j^(j  jjy  j]-jg  nourishment  of  warme  waters,  and  the  fit  change 
of  heat  in  winter  time,  cause  a  lily,  a  spring  flower,  to  bloom  ? 
Live  not  they  against  nature  that  plant  orchards  on  their  highest 
towers,  that  have  whole  forests  shaking  upon  the  tops  and  turrets 
of  their  houses,  spreading  their  roots  in  such  places  where  it 
should  suffice  them  that  the  tops  of  their  branches  should  touch. 
Epistle  122.     {Lodge'' s  translation  and  L' Estrange.) 

A  shrub,  although  it  be  old,  may  be  translated  into  another 
place.  This  is  necessarie  for  us  to  learne,  who  bee  old  men, 
of  whom  there  is  none  but  planteth  an  Orchard  of  Olives  for 
another  man.  That  which  I  have  seene,  this  I  speak ;  namely, 
that  an  Orchard  of  three  or  foure  years  old  will,  with  a  plentiful! 
fall  of  the  leafe,  yeeld  forth  fruit ;  yea,  also  that  tree  will  cover 
thee :  which 

Hath  been  slow  to  make  a  shade  before 

To  yong  nephewes  and  those  that  were  unbore  : 

As  our  Virgil  saith,  (who  beheld  not  what  might  be  spoken  most 
truly,  but  most  seemely ;  neither  desired  he  to  teach  husbandmen, 
but  to  delight  those  that  read. — Epistle  86  .•  Of  the  Country  House 
of  Africanus.     {T.Lodge.) 

Why  now,  Gardens  and  houses  of  pleasure  ?  he  had  divers, 
and  differently  bewtified.  /uve?iall  toucheth  it,  '  The  Gardens 
of  most  wealthy  Seneca.'  Hee  himselfe  likewise  maketh  mention 
of  his  houses :  Nomentanum,  Albanum  and  Baianum,  and 
without  question  hee  had  manie. — ^  Life  of  L.  A.  Seneca,^  by 
Justus  Lipsius. 

^  The  striking  similarity  of  this  description  to  that  of  a  modern  park  is  too 
obvious  to  escape  notice. — {Loudon.) 


QUINTILIAN  21 

BUT  is  the  garden  that  is  for  use  to  avail  of  no  ornament  ?  QUINTILIAN 
by  all  manner  of  means  let  these  trees  be  planted  in  ^l'^^^^  ^^"^-  ■^■'^•'>- 
regular  order,  and  at  certain  distances.  Observe  that  quincunx, 
how  beautiful  it  is ;  view  it  on  every  side ;  what  can  you  observe 
more  straight,  or  more  graceful?  Regularity  and  arrangement 
even  improves  the  soil,  because  the  juices  rise  more  regularly  to 
nourish  what  it  bears.  Should  I  observe  the  branches  of  yonder 
Olive  Tree  shooting  into  luxuriancy,  I  instantly  should  lop  it ; 
the  effect  is,  it  would  form  itself  into  a  horizontal  circle,  which  at 
once  adds  to  its  beauty  and  improves  its  bearing.  '  Institutes  of 
Eloquence,'  Book  VIII.     IVm.  Giithri^s  translation,  1756. 

IN  the  Island  of  the  Blessed  they  have  no  night  nor  bright  day,  LUCIAN 
^  but  a  perpetual  twilight;  one  equal  season  reigns  throughout  ^'^•^^  '20-200). 
the  year :  it  is  always  Spring  with  them,  and  no  wind  blows  but 
Zephyrus ;  the  whole  region  abounds  in  sweet  flowers,  and  shrubs 
of  every  kind  ;  their  vines  bear  twelve  times  in  the  year,  yielding 
fruit  every  month,  their  apples,  pomegranates,  and  the  rest  of  our 
autumnal  produce,  thirteen  times,  bearing  twice  in  the  month  of 
Minos  :  instead  of  corn,  the  lields  bring  forth  loaves  of  ready 
made  bread,  like  mushrooms ;  there  are  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  fountains  of  water  round  the  city,  as  many  of  honey,  and 
five  hundred  rather  smaller,  of  sweet  scented  oil,  besides  seven 
rivers  of  milk,  and  eight  of  wine. 

Their  Symposia  are  held  in  a  place  without  the  city,  which 
they  call  the  Elysian  Field ;  this  is  a  most  beautiful  meadow, 
skirted  by  a  large  and  thick  wood,  affording  an  agreeable  shade 
to  the  guests,  who  repose  on  couches  of  flowers  ;  the  winds 
attend  upon,  and  bring  them  everything  necessary,  except  wine, 
which  is  otherwise  provided,  for  there  are  large  trees  on  every 
side,  made  of  the  finest  glass,  the  fruit  of  which  are  cups  of 
various  shapes  and  sizes ;  whoever  comes  to  the  entertainment 
gathers  one  or  more  of  these  cups,  which  immediately  becomes 
full  of  wine,  and  so  they  drink  of  it,  whilst  the  nightingales,  and 


22 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


PALLADIUS 
RUTILIUS 

{\th  or  $(h 
Cent.  A.D.). 


Other  birds  of  song,  with  their  bills  peck  the  flowers  out  of  the 
neighbouring  fields,  and  drop  them  on  their  heads ;  thus  are  they 
crowned  with  perpetual  garlands ;  their  manner  of  perfuming 
them  is  this  ;  the  clouds  suck  up  the  scented  oils  from  the 
fountains  and  rivers,  and  the  winds  gently  fanning  them,  distil  it 
like  soft  dew  on  those  who  are  assembled  there ;  at  supper  they 
have  music  also,  and  singing,  particularly  the  verses  of  Homer, 
who  is  himself  generally  at  the  feast,  and  sits  next  above  Ulysses, 
with  a  chorus  of  youths  and  virgins  :  he  is  led  in,  accompanied 
by  Eunomus  the  Locrian,  Arion  of  Lesbos,  Anacreon  and 
Stesichorus,  whom  I  saw  there  along  with  them,  and  who  at 
length  is  reconciled  to  Helen  :  when  they  have  finished  their 
songs,  another  chorus  begins  of  swans,  swallows,  and  nightingales  ; 
and  to  these  succeeds  the  sweet  rustling  of  the  Zephyrs,  that 
whistle  through  the  woods,  and  close  the  concert.  What  most 
contributes  to  their  happiness  is,  that  near  the  symposium  are 
two  fountains,  the  one  of  milk,  the  other  of  pleasure ;  from  the 
first  they  drink  at  the  beginning  of  the  feast,  there  is  nothing 
afterwards  but  joy  and  festivity. ^ — '  True  History '  {Dr  Franckliii's 
Translation). 

—•HSfst^i— 

Palladius  lived  about  time  of  Theodosius,  wrote  *  De  Re  Rustica  '  in  fourteen 
books,  a  compilation  fro7)i  writers  like  Columella  or  Gargilitis :  Book  I.  contains 
general  itdes  about  Agriculture — the  next  twelve  are  devoted  to  agricultural 
work  of  each  tnotith — Book  XIV.  in  elegiac  verse,  on  grafting  trees:  much 
used  in  Middle  Ages,  and  the  '  Specuhim '  of  Vincent  de  Beauvais  borrows 
largely  fro7n  it. 

'ITH  orchard,  and  with  gardeyne,  or  with  mede, 
Se  that  thyne  hous  with  hem  be  umviroune ; 
The  side  in  longe  upon  the  south  thou  sprede. 
The  cornel  ryse  upon  the  wynter  sonne, 
And  gire  it  from  the  cold  West  yf  thou  conne. 

The  Middle  Efiglish  translation,  '  Palladius  on  Htisbon- 
drte,'  from  the  unique  MS.  of  about  1420  a.d.  /;/ 
Colchester  Castle.     E?iglish  Text  Society. 
^  Bottiger  sees  in  this  hyperbole  a  parody  on  the  prodigies   of   Homer's 
Garden  of  Alcinous  ('  Racemazioncn  znr  Gartenkunst  der  Alien  '). 


w 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   GARDEN    IN    SOME    EARLY    CHRISTIAN    AND    LATE 
PAGAN    WRITERS 

TN  those  days,  through  the  vast  and  horrible  solitude,  Hilarion  ST  JEROME 
^  at  length  came  to  a  very  high  mountain,  having  found  there  ^•^•^'-  345-42o). 
two  monks,  Isaac  and  Pelusianus,  of  whom  Isaac  had  been  the 
interpreter  of  Anthony.  And  because  the  occasion  presents 
itself  and  we  have  reached  that  place,  it  appears  worthy  of  our 
subject  to  describe  in  a  short  account  the  dwelling  of  so  great  a  man. 
A  rocky  and  high  mountain  presses  forth  its  waters  at  its  foot 
for  about  a  mile,  of  which  waters  the  sands  absorb  some,  and 
others  flowing  to  the  lower  regions  make  a  river,  over  which  on 
both  banks  innumerable  palm  trees  give  much  both  of  beauty 
and  convenience  to  the  place.  Here  you  might  see  the  old  man 
going  up  and  down  with  the  disciples  of  the  blessed  Anthony. 
Here,  they  said,  he  (Anthony)  was  accustomed  to  sing  psalms; 
here  to  pray  ;  here  to  work ;  here,  when  tired,  to  sit  down.  He 
himself  planted  those  vines,  those  shrubs.  He  settled  this  little 
garden-bed.  He  it  was  who  made  with  much  labour  this  pond 
for  watering  the  little  garden.  He  had  for  many  years  this  little 
rake  for  digging  the  earth. — The  Life  of  St  Hilarwti :  his  visit  to 
the  cell  of  St  Anthony. 

TT  OMEWARDS  I  bend  my  steps.     My  fields,  my  gardens,  are  T'AO 

^  *     choked  with  weeds  :  should  1  not  go  ?     My  soul  has  led  a  j^ j^q1_ 

bondsman's  life  :  why  should  I  remain  to  pine  ?     But  I  will  waste  Chinese 

no  grief  upon  the  past :  I  will  devote  my  energies  to  the  future.  Writer  {\.V). 

I  have  not  wandered  far  astray.     I  feel  that  I  am  on  the  right  ^  ^ 

track  once  again. 

23 


24  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Lightly,  lightly  speeds  my  boat  along,  my  garments  fluttering 
to  the  gentle  breeze.  I  inquire  my  route  as  I  go.  I  grudge  the 
slowness  of  the  dawning  day.  From  afar  I  descry  my  old  home, 
and  joyfully  press  onwards  in  my  haste.  The  servants  rush  forth 
to  meet  me :  my  children  cluster  at  the  gate.  The  place  is  a 
wilderness ;  but  there  is  the  old  pine-tree  and  my  chrysanthemums. 
Wine  is  brought  in  full  bottles,  and  I  pour  out  in  brimming  cups. 
I  gaze  out  at  my  favourite  branches.  I  loll  against  the  window  in 
my  new-found  freedom.    I  look  at  the  sweet  children  on  my  knee. 

And  now  I  take  my  pleasure  in  my  garden.  I  lean  on  ray  staft 
as  I  wander  about,  or  sit  down  to  rest.  I  raise  my  head  and 
contemplate  the  lovely  scene.  Clouds  rise,  unwilling  from  the 
bottom  of  the  hills  :  the  weary  bird  seeks  its  nest  again.  Shadows 
vanish,  but  still  I  linger  round  my  lonely  pine.  Home  once 
more !  I'll  have  no  friendships  to  distract  me  hence.  The  times 
are  out  of  joint  for  me ;  and  what  have  I  to  seek  from  men  ?  In 
the  pure  enjoyment  of  the  family  circle  I  will  pass  my  days, 
cheering  my  idle  hours  with  lute  and  book.  My  husbandmen 
will  tell  me  when  spring-time  is  nigh,  and  when  there  will  be  work 
in  the  furrowed  fields.  Thither  I  shall  repair  by  cart  or  by  boat, 
through  the  deep  gorge,  over  the  dizzy  cliff,  trees  bursting  merrily 
into  leaf,  the  streamlet  swelling  from  its  tiny  source.  Glad  is  this 
renewal  of  life  in  due  season :  but,  for  me,  I  rejoice  that  my 
journey  is  over.  Ah,  how  short  a  time  it  is  that  we  are  here ! 
Why  then  not  set  our  hearts  at  rest,  ceasing  to  trouble  whether 
we  remain  or  go?  What  boots  it  to  wear  out  the  soul  with 
anxious  thoughts  ?  I  want  not  wealth  :  I  want  not  power :  heaven 
is  beyond  my  hopes.  Then  let  me  stroll  through  the  bright 
hours  as  they  pass,  in  my  garden  among  my  flowers ;  or  I  will 
mount  the  hill  and  sing  my  song,  or  weave  my  verse  beside  the 
limpid  brook. 

Thus  will  I  work  out  my  allotted  span,  content  with  appoint- 
ments of  fate,  my  spirit  free  from  care. — Herbert  A.  Giles,  '  Gems 
of  Chinese  Literature.'' 


1 


LONGUS  25 

T  {Daphnis  and  Chloe)  am  that  old  Philetas,  who  have  often  LONGUS 
^  sung  to  these  Nymphs  ;  and  often  pip't  to  yonder  Paji ;  and  [i^/[f"'  ^^^\ 
have  led  many  great  herds,  by  the  art  of  musick  alone;  and  I 
come  to  shew  you  what  I  have  seen,  and  to  tell  you  what  I 
have  heard.  I  have  a  Garden  which  my  own  hands  and  labour 
planted ;  and  ever  since  by  my  old  age  I  gave  over  fields  and 
herds  to  dresse  and  trim  it,  has  been  my  care  and  entertain- 
ment ;  what  flowers  or  fruits  the  season  of  the  year  teems, 
there  they  are  at  every  season.  In  the  Spring  there  are  Roses, 
and  Lilies,  the  Hyacinths,  and  both  the  forms  of  Violets. 
In  the  Summer,  Poppies,  Pears,  and  all  sorts  of  Apples.  And 
now  in  the  Autumne,  Vines  and  Fig  trees,  Pomegranats,  Oranges, 
Limons,  and  the  green  myrtles.  Into  this  Garden,  flocks  of 
birds  come  every  morning ;  some  to  feed,  some  to  sing.  For 
it  is  thick,  spacious,  and  shady ;  and  watered  all  by  three 
fountains ;  and  if  you  took  the  wall  away,  you  would  think 
you  saw  a  Wood.  As  I  went  in  there  yesterday  about  noon, 
a  boy  appear'd  in  the  Pomgranate  and  Myrtle  grove,  with 
myrtles  and  Pomgranats  in  his  hand ;  white  as  milk,  and  shining 
with  the  glance  of  fire  ;  clean  and  bright,  as  if  he  had  newly 
washt  himself  in  all  the  three  transparent  Fountains.  Naked 
he  was,  alone  he  was ;  he  play'd  and  wanton'd  it  about,  and 
cuU'd  and  pull'd,  as  if  it  had  been  his  own  garden. — DapJuiis 
and  Chloe.  A  most  Sweet  and  Pleasant  Pastorall  Romance  fo?- 
You  fig  Ladies,  by  Geo.  Thornley,  Gent,  1657. 

A  FTER  we  had  dispatcht  his  funerall  rites,  I  ranne  straightway  ACHILLES 

■'*•     to   Leucippe,  who   was   then   in   our   garden.     There   was  TATIUS 

r  .  •  ■,        •  ,  AVh  Cent.  A.D.) 

a  grove  of  a  most  pleasant   aspect,  environed   with   a   row  of 

trees  thinly  set,  and  all  of  one  height;  whose  foure  sides, 
for  there  were  so  many  in  all,  were  covered  with  a  shelter,  which 
stood  on  foure  pillars,  the  inner  part  was  planted  with  all  sorts  of 
trees,  whose  boughes  flourisht,  and  mutually  embrac'd  each 
other,  growing  so  thicke,  that  their  leaves  and  fruit  were  pro- 
miscuously mingled  ;  upon  the  bigger  trees  grew  ivie,  some  of 


26  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDP:NS 

it  on  the  soft  plane  trees,  other  some  sticking  to  the  pitch  tree 
made  it  tenderer  by  its  embracements ;  so  by  this  meanes 
the  tree  served  to  beare  up  the  ivie,  and  the  ivie  was  a  crowne 
to  the  tree ;  on  both  sides  many  fruitfull  Vines  bound  with  reeds 
spread  forth  their  branches,  which  displaying  their  seasonable 
blossomes  through  the  bands,  seemed  like  the  curled  lockes 
of  some  young  lover.  The  walkes  which  the  trees  hanging  over 
shaded,  were  here  and  there  enlightened,  whilst  the  leaves 
driven  this  way  and  that  way  with  the  winde,  made  roome  for 
the  sunne  to  shine  through.  Moreover,  divers  flowers  strived 
as  it  were  to  shew  their  beauty;  the  daffadilly  and  the  rose, 
whose  beauties  were  equal,  made  the  earth  of  a  purple  colour, 
the  upper  part  of  the  rose-leaves  was  of  the  colour  of  blood 
and  violets,  the  lower  part  white  as  milk ;  the  daffadilly  differed 
not  at  all  from  the  lower  part  of  the  rose;  the  violets  were  of 
the  colour  of  the  sea  when  it  is  calm  ;  in  the  midst  of  the 
flowers  sprang  up  a  fountaine,  which  was  first  received  in  a 
foure  square  bason,  and  running  from  thence  it  fed  a  little 
rivulet  made  with  hand :  in  the  grove  were  birds,  some  used  to 
the  house,  and  to  bee  fed  by  the  hands  of  men,  others  more 
free  sported  on  the  tops  of  trees,  some  of  them  being  eminent 
for  their  singing,  as  the  grass-hopper  and  the  swallow,  some 
of  them  againe  for  their  painted  wings,  as  the  peacocke,  the 
swanne  and  the  parrot.  The  grasshopper  sang  of  Aurora's  bed, 
the  swallow  of  Tereus  table;  the  swan  was  feeding  near  the 
head  of  the  fountaine;  the  parrot  hung  on  the  bough  of  a 
tree  in  a  cage  :  the  peacocke  stretching  forth  his  golden  plumes 
seemed  to  contend  in  beautie  not  onely  with  the  rest  of  the  birds, 
but  even  with  the  flowers  themselves,  for  to  say  truth,  his 
feathers  were  flowers :  wherefore  willing  to  give  her  a  hint  of 
my  intended  love,  I  fell  in  talke  with  Satyrus  my  Father's 
man  (who  was  at  that  time  in  the  garden)  taking  the  argument 
of  my  speech  from  the  peacocke,  which  by  some  chance  spread 
her  wings  just  over  against  him.  .  .  . 

Concerning  trees,  now  that  they  are  in  love  one  with  another, 
it   is   the   common  received  opinion   of   Philosophers,   which  I 


MOHAMMAD  27 

should  think  fabulous,  did  not  the  experience  of  an  husbandman 
subscribe  unto  it  that  the  palm  trees  are  distinguished  by  sexes. 
.  .  .  While  these  love-stories  were  a-telling,  I  narrowly  observed 
how  Leucippe  was  affected  with  them,  who  seemed  to  me  to 
heare  them  gladly ;  but  let  them  say  what  they  will  Leucippe' s 
countenance  farre  surpassed  the  rare  and  exquisite  splendour 
of  the  peacocke,  nay  the  whole  garden,  for  in  her  forehead  were 
daffadillies,  in  her  cheekes  roses,  in  her  eyes  violets,  her  locks 
were  more  curled  than  the  twining  Ivie,  and  every  part  held 
such  correspondence  with  the  Garden,  that  I  may  truly  say 
the  best  flowers  were  in  her  face.  Not  long  after  she  departed, 
being  called  to  her  Lute. — The  Loves  of  Clitophon  a?id  Leucippe. 
Englished  from  the  Greeke  by  Anthony  LLodges,  Oxford,  1638. 

BUT  for  him  who  feareth  the    majesty  of  his    Lord  shall  be  MOHAMMAD 
two  gardens:  ,a.d.  571-632). 

With  trees  branched  over  : 

And  therein  two  flowing  wells  : 

And  therein  of  every  fruit  two  kinds  : 

Reclining  on  couches  with  linings  of  brocade  and  the  fruit  of  the 

gardens  to  their  hand  : 
Therein  the  shy-eyed  maidens  neither  man  nor  Jinn  hath  touched 

before  : 
Like  rubies  and  pearls  : 

Shall  the  reward  of  good  be  aught  but  good  ? 
And  beside  these  shall  be  two  other  gardens  : 
Dark  green  in  hue  : 
W^ith  gushing  wells  therein  : 
Therein  fruit  and  palm  and  pomegranate  : 
Therein  the  best  and  comeliest  maids : 
Bright-eyed,  kept  in  tents  : 
Man  hath  not  touched  them  before,  nor  Jinn  : 
Reclining  on  green  cushions  and  fine  carpets  : 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  thy  Lord  endued  with  majesty  and  honour. 
'  The  Speeches  of  Mohammad,''  by  Stanley  Lane  Poole. 


28 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


CHOU 
TUN-I— 

Chinese 
Writer 

(1017-IO73). 


I  OVERS  of  flowering  plants  and  shrubs  we  have  had  by 
*-'  scores,  but  T'ao  Yiian-ming  alone  devoted  himself  to  the 
chrysanthemum. 

Since  the  opening  days  of  the  T'ang  dynasty,  it  has  been 
fashionable  to  admire  the  peony ;  but  my  favourite  is  the  water- 
lily.  How  stainless  it  rises  from  its  slimy  bed !  How  modestly 
it  reposes  on  the  clear  pool — an  emblem  of  purity  and  truth ! 
Symmetrically  perfect,  its  subtle  perfume  is  wafted  far  and 
wide ;  while  there  it  rests  in  spotless  state,  something  to  be 
regarded  reverently  from  a  distance,  and  not  to  be  profaned 
by  familiar  approach. 

In  my  opinion,  the  chrysanthemum  is  the  flower  of  retirement 
and  culture ;  the  peony,  the  flower  of  rank  and  wealth ;  the 
water-lily,  the  Lady  Virtue  sans  pareille. 

Alas  !  few  have  loved  the  chrysanthemum  since  T'ao  Yiian- 
ming;  and  none  like  the  water-lily  like  myself;  whereas  the  peony 
is  a  general  favourite  with  all  ??iankind. — Herbert  A.  Giles,  '  Gems 
of  Chinese  Literature.^ 


— ft/VVN^ — 


LIEN- 
TSCHEN. 


n^HE  art  of  laying  out  gardens  consists  in  an  endeavour  to 
^  combine  cheerfulness  of  aspect,  luxuriance  of  growth,  shade, 
solitude  and  repose,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  senses  may  be 
deluded  by  an  imitation  of  rural  nature.  Diversity,  which  is  the 
main  advantage  of  free  landscape,  must,  therefore,  be  sought  in  a 
judicious  choice  of  soil,  an  alternation  of  chains  of  hills  and 
valleys,  gorges,  brooks,  and  lakes  covered  with  aquatic  plants. 
Symmetry  is  wearying,  and  ennui  and  disgust  will  soon  be  excited 
in  a  garden  where  every  part  betrays  constraint  and  art. — Quoted 
by  A.  voft  Hitmboldt. 

— ^VVV'— 


WILLIAM  OF      IT  (Thorney  Abbey)  represents  a  very  Paradise,  for   that   in 

MALMESBURY  1     pleasure    and    delight    it    resembles    Heaven   itself.     These 
(1095-1143).  ^  .       ° 

marshes  abound  m  trees,  v/hose  length  without  a  knot  doth 


WILLIAM  OF  MALMESBURY  29 

emulate  the  stars.  The  plain  there  is  as  level  as  the  sea,  which 
with  green  grass  allures  the  eye,  and  so  smooth  that  there  is 
nought  to  hinder  him  who  runs  through  it.  Neither  is  therein 
any  waste  place :  for  in  some  parts  are  apple  trees,  in  other 
vines,  which  are  either  spread  on  the  ground  or  raised  on  poles. 
A  mutual  strife  is  there  between  nature  and  art ;  so  that  what 
one  produces  not,  the  other  supplies. 


CHAPTER  III 

MEDIAEVAL,    RENAISSANCE    AND    TUDOR    GARDENS 

ALEXANDER       Alexander  Neckam,    the  earliest  Englishman  to   write  on    Gardens,    was 
NECKAM  l)orn  at  St  Albans,   I157,  being  the  foster-brother  of  Richard  Cccur  de  Lion 

(1157-1217).  — j^-^  mother  "fovit  Kicardutn  ex  mamilla  dextra,  sed Alexandriim  fovit  ex 

mamilla  sua  sinistrd  " — at  the  age  of  twenty-three  he  became  a  professor  at  the 
University  of  Paris,  11 80- II 86.  Hurt  at  the  pun  on  his  name  by  the 
Benedictine  Abbot  of  St  Albans  "Si  bonus  es  venias  ;  si  nequam,  ncquaquam  " 
("  Come  if  you  are  good,  if  naughty,  by  no  means  ")  he  became  an  August  ittian 
monk  at  Cirencester,  and  Abbot  12 13.  Died  12 17  tiear  Worcester  and  was 
buried  in  Cathedral.  Author  of  a  Latin  poem,  "  De  Laudibus  Divina 
Sapientiiv,"  a  metrical  paraphrase  of  his  own  prose  treatise  '^  De  Naturis 
7-erum "  which  was  jiieant  to  be  a  manual  of  the  scientific  knowledge  of 
the  time,  with  contemporary  anecdotes  and  stories. — Thomas  Wright,  M.A. 
Preface  to  Neckam 's  Works. 

HERE  the  garden  should  be  adorned  with  roses  and  lilies,  the 
turnsole  (heliotrope),  violets,  and  mandrake;  there  you 
should  have  parsley,  cost,  fennel,  southern-wood,  coriander,  sage, 
savery,  hyssop,  mint,  rue,  ditanny,  smallage,  pellitory,  lettuces, 
garden-cress,  and  peonies. 

There  should  also  be  beds  planted  with  onions,  leeks,  garlic, 
pumpkins  and  shalots.  The  cucumber  growing  in  its  lap,  the 
drowsy  poppy,  the  daffodil  and  brank-ursine  (acanthus)  ennoble 
a  garden.  Nor  are  there  wanting,  if  occasion  furnish  thee,  pottage- 
herbs,  beets,  herb-mercury,  orache,  sorrel  and  mallows.  Anise, 
mustard,  white  pepper  and  wormwood  (absynth)  do  good  service 
to  the  gardenlet. 

A  noble  garden  will  give  thee  also  medlars,  quinces,  warden- 
trees,  peaches,  pears  of  St  Riole,  pomegranates,  lemons  (citron 
apples),  oranges  (golden  apples),  almonds,  dates,  which  are  the 
fruits  of  palms,  and  figs.  I  make  no  mention  of  ginger  and 
gariofilice,  cinnamon,  liquorice,  and  zituala,  and  Virgce  Sabece  dis- 
30 


PETRARCH  31 

tilling  incense,  myrrh,  aloe  and  lavender,  resin,  storax  and  balsaam, 
and  Indian  laburnum. 

Saffron  and  sandyx  will  not  be  absent,  if  thou  wilt  follow  our 
counsel.  Who  has  not  experienced  the  virtues  of  thyme  and 
pennyroyal?  Who  is  ignorant  that  borage  and  purslain  are 
devoted  to  uses  of  diet?  .  .  .  The  myrtle,  too,  is  the  friend 
of  temperance ;  whence  it  comes  that  it  is  wont  to  be  offered  to 
the  goddess  who  is  named  Cypris,  for  the  same  reason  that  the 
tufted  bird  is  slain  to  Nux,  the  goddess  of  night,  that  the  goat 
is  devoted  to  Bacchus,  and  the  swine  to  Ceres. 

But  those,  whom  such  toil  interests,  distinguish  between 
.heliotrope  {solsequium)  and  our  heliotrope,  which  is  called 
marigold  {calendula) ;  and  between  wormwood,  {artemisia)  and 
our  wormwood,  which  is  called  centaury  [febrifi/gium). 

It  is  agreed,  too,  that  the  beard  of  Jove  {/ovis  barba)  is  one 
grass,  and  Jove's  beard  {barba  Jovis)  is  another. 

The  iris  bears  a  purple  flower,  the  marsh  elder  a  white  one ; 
the  gladiolus  a  yellow  one;  but  the  foetid  palm  {Spatula fcetida) 
has  none. 

The  horehound,  hound's  tongue,  the  Macedonian  rock,  parsley, 
the  hoop  withe  (snakewood),  groundsel,  ground  ash,  which  is  also 
the  queen,  three  kinds  of  milk-vetch  {asfrologia)  are  well-known 
herbs.  But  Macer  and  Dioscorides  and  many  others  make 
diligent  inquiries  into  the  properties  of  herbs.  Whence  let  us 
now  pass  to  other  matters.  —  Of  the  Natures  of  Tilings.  {On 
herbs,  trees,  and floivers  ivhich  grow  in  the  garden.)  ^ 

— •A/\/Vi — 

T  HAVE  made  two  gardens  that  please  me  wonderfully.     I  do  PETRARCH 
^     not  think  they  are  to  be  equalled  in  all  the  world.     And  I  (i304-i374)- 
must  confess  to  you  a  more  than  female  weakness  with  which  I 
am  haunted.     I  am  positively  angry  that  there  is  anything  so 
beautiful  out  of  Italy. 

1  Mr  T.  Hudson  Turner,  in  his  "Observations  on  the  State  of  Horticulture 
in  England  in  Early  Times"  {ArchcEological  Journal,  vol.  v.),  a  paper  full  of 
antiquarian  research  and  of  great  interest,  regards  Neckam's  description  of  a 
"  noble  garden  "  as  in  a  great  degree  I'hetorical  and  untrustworthy. 


32  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

One  of  these  gardens  is  shady,  formed  for  contemplation,  and 
sacred  to  Apollo.  It  overhangs  the  source  of  the  river,  and  is 
terminated  by  rocks,  and  by  places  accessible  only  to  birds.  The 
other  is  nearer  my  cottage,  of  an  aspect  less  severe,  and  devoted 
to  Bacchus ;  and,  what  is  extremely  singular,  it  is  in  the  midst  of 
a  rapid  river.  The  approach  to  it  is  over  a  bridge  of  rocks ;  and 
there  is  a  natural  grotto  under  the  rocks ;  which  gives  them  the 
appearance  of  a  rustic  bridge.  Into  this  grotto  the  rays  of  the  sun 
never  penetrate.  I  am  confident  that  it  much  resembles  the  place 
where  Cicero  sometimes  went  to  declaim.  It  invites  to  study. 
Hither  I  retreat  during  the  noontide  hours ;  my  mornings  are 
engaged  upon  the  hills,  or  in  the  garden  sacred  to  Apollo.  Here 
I  would  most  willingly  pass  my  days,  were  I  not  too  near  Avignon, 
and  too  far  from  Italy.  For  why  should  I  conceal  this  weakness 
of  my  soul  ?  I  love  Italy,  and  I  hate  Avignon.  The  pestilential 
influence  of  this  horrid  place  impoisons  the  pure  air  of  Vaucluse, 
and  will  compel  me  to  quit  my  retirement. — Letter  from  Vaucluse, 
1336. — ''Life  of  Petrarch^  by  Thomas  Campbell. 

ST  BERNARD   IF  thou  desire  to  know  the   situation  of  Clairvaux,  let   those 

OF  1     writings  be  to  thee  as  a  mirror.  .  .  .  Then  the  back  part  of 

CLAIRVAUX 

(ioQi-ii';3).  the  Abbey  terminates  in  a  broad  plain,  no  small  portion  of  which 

a  wall  occupies,  which  surrounds  the  Abbey  with  its  extended 
circuit.  Within  the  enclosure  of  this  wall  many  and  various  trees, 
prolific  in  various  fruits  constitute  an  orchard  resembling  a  wood. 
Which,  being  near  the  cell  of  the  sick,  lightens  the  infirmities  of 
the  brethren  with  no  moderate  solace,  while  it  affords  a  spacious 
walking  place  to  those  who  walk  and  a  sweet  place  for  reclining 
to  those  who  are  overheated.  The  sick  man  sits  upon  the  green 
sod,  and  while  the  inclemency  of  Sirius  burns  up  the  Earth  with 
his  pitiless  star,  and  dries  up  the  rivers,  he  (the  sick  man)  tempers 
the  glowing  stars,  under  leaves  of  the  trees,  into  security,  and 
concealment,  and  shade  from  the  heat  of  the  day ;  and  for  the 
comfort  of  his  pain,  the  various  kinds  of  grass  are  fragrant  to 
his  nostrils,  the  pleasant  verdure  of  the  herbs  and  trees  gratifies 


BRUNETTO  LATINI  ^2 

his  eyes,  and  their  immense  delights  are  present,  hanging  and 
growing  before  him,  so  that  he  may  say,  not  without  reason  : 
I  sat  under  the  shade  of  that  tree,  which  I  had  longed  for,  and  its 
fruit  was  sweet  to  my  throat.^  The  concert  of  the  coloured  birds 
soothes  his  ears  with  their  soft  melody ;  and  for  the  cure  of  our 
illness,  the  Divine  tenderness  provides  many  consolations,  while 
the  air  smiles  with  bright  serenity,  the  earth  breathes  with  fruitful- 
ness,  and  he  himself  drinks  in  with  eyes,  ears,  and  nostrils,  the 
delights  of  colours,  songs  and  odours. 

Where  the  orchard  terminates,  the  garden  begins,  distributed 
into  separate  plots,  or  rather,  divided  by  intersecting  rivulets ;  for 
although  the  water  appears  stagnant,  it  flows  nevertheless  with  a 
slow  gliding.  Here  also  a  beautiful  spectacle  is  exhibited  to  the 
infirm  brethren  :  while  they  sit  upon  the  green  margin  of  the  huge 
basin,  they  see  the  little  fishes  playing  under  the  water,  and  repre- 
senting a  military  encounter,  by  swimming  to  meet  each  other. 
This  water  serves  the  double  duty  of  supporting  the  fish  and  water- 
ing the  vegetables, — to  which  water.  Alba,  a  river  of  famous  name, 
supplies  nourishment  by  its  unwearied  wandering. — Description  of 
Clairvaux  by  a  Cofttemporary  of  St  Bernard. 

lyyTAIS  les  Frangais  ont  maisons  granz,  et  plenieres  et  peintes,  et  BRUNETTO 
^    *■     belles  chambres   pour  avoir   ioie  et  delit   sans  guerre  et  ^■'^'^INI 
sans  noise  et  pour  ce  savent  ils  mieux  faire  preaux  et  vergiers 
et  pommiers  entre  la   manoir   car   ce   est  une   chose   qui   molt 
vaut   a   delit   d'ome. — Libre   I.,  pt.  iv.,  chap.  cxxx.     Li  Livres 
dou  Tresor.     P.  Chabaille. 

Maundeville  was  an  early  and  imaginative  traveller  in  Palestine^  Egypt  SIR  JOHN 
and  China,  and  resided  three  years  at  Pekin.    His  work  is  a  pot-pourri  of  fad,  MAUNDEVILLE 
fiction,  chronicle,  legend  and  romance.  (I300-I372J. 

XT  EAR  the  isle  of  Peutexoire,   which  is  the  land  of  Prester 

^^     John,  is   a   great   isle,  long   and   broad,  called  Milsterak, 

which  is   in   the   lordship  of  Prester  John.     That  isle  is  very 

^  See  extract  from  Burton's  '  Anatonry  of  Melancholy.' 


34  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

ricli.  There  was  dwelling  not  long  since  a  rich  man,  named 
Gatholonabes,  who  was  full  of  tricks  and  subtle  deceits.  He 
had  a  fair  and  strong  castle  in  a  mountain,  so  strong  and  noble 
that  no  man  could  devise  a  fairer  or  a  stronger.  And  he  had 
caused  the  mountain  to  be  all  walled  about  with  a  strong  and 
fair  wall,  within  which  walls  he  had  the  fairest  garden  that 
might  be  imagined ;  and  therein  were  trees  bearing  all  manner 
of  fruits,  all  kinds  of  herbs  of  virtue  and  of  good  smell,  and 
all  other  herbs  also  that  bear  fair  flowers.  And  he  had  also 
in  that  garden  many  fair  wells,  and  by  them  he  had  made  fair 
halls  and  fair  chambers,  painted  all  with  gold  and  azure,  re- 
presenting many  divers  things  and  many  divers  stories. 

There  were  also  beasts  and  birds  which  sang  full  delectably, 
and  moved  by  craft,  that  it  seemed  they  were  alive. 

And  he  had  also  in  his  garden  all  kinds  of  birds  and  beasts, 
that  men  might  have  play  or  sport  to  behold  them.  And  he 
had  also  in  that  place  the  fairest  damsels  that  might  be  found 
under  the  age  of  fifteen  years,  and  the  fairest  young  striplings 
that  men  might  get  of  that  same  age ;  and  they  were  all  clothed 
full  richly  in  clothes  of  gold ;  and  he  said  they  were  angels. 
And  he  had  also  caused  to  be  made  three  fair  and  noble  wells, 
all  surrounded  with  stone  of  jasper  and  crystal,  diapered  with 
gold,  and  set  with  precious  stones  and  great  Orient  pearls. 
And  he  had  made  a  conduit  under  the  earth,  so  that  the 
three  wells,  at  his  will,  should  run  one  with  milk,  another  with 
wine,  and  another  with  honey.  And  that  place  he  called 
Paradise.  And  when  any  good  Knight,  who  was  hardy  and 
noble,  came  to  see  this  royalty,  he  would  lead  him  into 
Paradise,  and  show  him  these  wonderful  things  for  his  sport, 
and  the  marvellous  and  delicious  song  of  divers  birds,  and 
the  fair  damsels,  and  the  fair  wells  of  milk,  wine,  and  honey, 
running  plentifully. — The  Voyages  and  Travels  of  Sir  J.  M. 
{The  first  English  Edition  was  printed  by  IVinhyn  de  Worde, 
1499.) 


BOCCACCIO  35  I 

DOOKES  (Courteous   Reader)  may  rightly  be   compared   to  BOCCACCIO  j 

*-^     Gardens;  wherein,  let  the  painfull  Gardiner  expresse  never '^•^'•^"'^^5''  1 

so   much   care   and   diligent   endeavour ;    yet   among   the   very  ; 

fairest,   sweetest,  and  freshest   Flowers,  as  also  Plants  of  most  i 

precious  Vertue;  ill  savouring  and  stinking  Weeds,  fit  for  no  \ 

use  but  the  fire  or  mucke-hill,  will  spring  and  sprout  up.     So 

fareth  it  with  Bookes  of  the  very  best  quality;  let  the  Author 

bee  never  so  indulgent,  and  the  Printer  vigilant :  yet  both  may  ^ 

misse  their  ayme,  by  the  escape  of  Errors  and  Mistakes,  either 

in  sense  or  matter,  the  one  fault  ensuing  by  a  ragged  Written  \ 

Copy;  and  the  other  thorough  want  of  wary  Correction. — The 

Decameron  {containing  a  hundred  pleasant  Novels.)     {Preface  to  '' 

the  last  five  days),  1620. 

On  the  morrow,  being  Wednesday,  about  breake  of  day,  the  ' 
Ladies,  with  certaine  of  their  attending  Gentlewomen,  and  the 
three  Gentlemen,  having  three  servants  to  waite  on  them,  left 
the  City  to  beginne  their  journey,  and  having  travelled  about 

a  league's  distance,  arrived  at  the  place  of  their  first  purpose  1 
of  stay;  which  was  seated  on  a  little  hill,  distant  (on  all  sides) 

from  any  highway,  plentifully  stored  with  faire  spreading  Trees,  I 

affording  no  meane  delight  to  the  eye.     On  the  top  of  all  stood  j 
a   stately  Pallace,  having   a   large   and   spacious  Court   in   the 

middest,  round  engirt  with  galleries,  hals  and  chambers,  every  1 

one  separate  alone  by  themselves,  and  beautified  with  pictures  : 

of  admirable  Cunning.     Nor  was  there  any  want  of  Gardens,  \ 

Meadowes,  and  other  pleasant  walkes,  with  welles  and  springs  ' 
of  faire  running  waters,  all  encompassed  with  branching  vines, 

fitter  for  curious  and  quaffing  bidders,  then  women  sober  and  ■ 

singularly  modest. — Ibid.  ' 

npO  be  as  brief  as  I  can  then,  Fabrizio  was  regaled  there  with  MACHIAVELLI    I 

■^       all   possible  demonstrations  of  honour  and  respect:    but  ('469-1527)-  | 

after  the  entertainment  and  usual  formalities  were  over  (which  j 

generally  are  few  and  short   amongst  men   of  sense,   who  are  ! 

more   desirous    of   gratifying   the   rational    appetite),    the   days  \ 


S6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

being  long,  and  the  weather  intensely  hot,  Cosimo,  under  a 
pretence  of  avoiding  the  heat,  took  his  guests  into  the  most 
retired  and  shady  part  of  the  gardens ;  and  being  all  sat 
down,  some  upon  the  grass  (which  is  very  green  and  pleasant 
there),  and  some  upon  seats  placed  under  the  trees,  Fabrizio 
said  it  was  a  most  delightful  garden,  and,  looking  earnestly  at 
some  of  the  trees,  seemed  not  to  know  the  names  of  them  ; 
but  Cosimo,  being  aware  of  it,  immediately  said,  perhaps  you 
may  not  be  acquainted  with  this  sort  of  trees ;  and,  indeed,  I 
am  not  at  all  surprised  at  it,  for  they  are  very  old  ones,  and 
were  much  more  in  vogue  amongst  our  ancestors  than  they 
are  at  present.  Having  then  told  him  the  names  of  them, 
and  that  they  were  planted  by  his  grandfather  Bernardo,  who 
was  fond  of  such  amusements  :  I  thought  so,  replied  Fabrizio ; 
and  both  the  place  and  the  trees  put  me  in  mind  of  some 
Princes  in  the  Kingdom  of  Naples,  who  took  much  delight  in 
planting  groves  and  shady  arbours  to  shelter  them  from  the 
heat. — T/ie  Art  of  War. 

—•^M\S\tj— 

ERASMUS    Z^USEBIUS. — Butwhat  if  we  should  take  theCooloftheMorning 
(1467-1536).  now  to  see  the  Gardens,  while  the  Wench  in  the  Kitchen  pro- 

vides us  a  Sallad  ?  Timotheus.  Never  was  anything  in  better  order. 
The  very  Design  of  this  Garden  bids  a  Man  welcome  to't.  .  .  . 
Eu.  Strangers  are  generally  pleased  with  this  Garden  ;  and  hardly 
a  Man  that  passes  by  the  place  without  an  Ejaculation.  Instead 
of  the  Infamous  Priapus,  I  have  committed  not  only  my  Gardens, 
but  all  my  Possessions,  both  of  Body  and  Mind,  to  the  protection 
of  my  Saviour,  .  .  .  You  are  loth,  I  perceive  to  leave  this  Place  ; 
but  let's  go  on,  and  I'll  show  you  a  square  wall'd  Garden  here 
beyond,  that's  better  worth  your  seeing  .  .  .  this  Garden  was 
design'd  for  Pleasure ;  but  for  honest  Pleasure,  the  Entertainment 
of  the  Sight,  the  Smell,  and  the  Refreshment  of  the  very  Mind. 
To  have  nothing  here  but  sweet  Herbs,  and  those  only  choice 
ones  too ;  and  every  kind  has  its  bed  by  itself.  Ti.  I  am  now 
convinc'd  that  the  Plants  are  not  mute,  as  you  were  saying  e'en 


ERASMUS  37 

now.  Eit.  You're  in  the  right :  as  I  have  rang'd  my  several 
Plants  into  several  Troops,  so  every  Troop  has  its  Standard  to 
itself  with  a  peculiar  Motto.  The  Marjoram's  Word  is  Abstine 
Sus,  non  tibi  spiro :  My  perfume  zvas  never  made  for  the  Snout 
of  a  Sow ;  being  a  Fragrancy  to  which  the  Sow  has  a  natural 
Aversion.  And  so  every  other  Herb  has  something  in  the  Title 
to  denote  the  particular  Virtue  of  the  Plant.  JV.  I  have  seen 
nothing  yet  that  pleases  me  better  than  this  Fountain.  It  is  the 
Ornament,  the  Relief,  and  Security  of  the  whole  Garden.  But 
for  this  Cistern  (Bason)  here,  that  with  so  much  satisfaction  to 
the  Eye,  waters  the  whole  Ground  in  Chanels,  at  such  equal 
•  Distances,  that  it  shows  all  the  Flowers  over  again,  as  in  a 
Looking-Glass ;  ^this  Cistern,  I  say,  is  it  of  Marble  ?  Eu. 
Not  a  word  of  that,  I  prithee.  How  should  Marble  come 
hither?  'tis  only  a  Paste  that's  covered  over  with  an  arti- 
ficial Counterfeit.  .  .  .  Ti.  But  how  comes  it  that  all  your 
Made-Hedges  are  Green  too  ?  Eu.  Because  I  would  have 
everything  Green  here.  Some  are  for  a  Mixture  of  Red  to 
set  off  the  other.  But  I  am  still  for  Green ;  as  every  Man 
has  his  Fancy,  though  it  be  but  in  a  Garden.  Ti.  The  Garden 
is  very  fine  of  itself,  but  these  three  Walks,  methinks,  take  off 
very  much  from  the  Lightsomness  and  Pleasure  of  it.  Eu. 
There  do  I  either  Study,  or  Walk,  or  Talk  with  a  Friend,  or  Eat 
a  Dish  of  Meat,  according  as  the  Humour  takes  me.  Ti.  And 
could  you  not  content  yourself  with  so  neat  and  well-finish'd  a 
Garden  in  Substance,  without  more  Gardens  in  Picture  over  and 
above.  Eu.  First,  one  piece  of  Ground  will  not  hold  all  sorts  of 
Plants.  Secondly,  'tis  a  double  Pleasure  to  compare  painted 
Flowers  with  the  Life  .  .  .  and  lastly,  the  Painting  holds  fresh 
and  green  all  the  Winter,  when  the  Flowers  are  dead  and 
wither'd.  .  .  .  Eu.  These  Walks  serve  me  so  many  Purposes. 
But  if  you  please  we'll  take  a  View  of  'em  nearer  Hand.  See 
how  green  'tis  under  Foot ;  and  ye  have  the  Beauty  of  painted 
Flowers  in  the  very  Chequering  of  the  Pavement.  Here's  a 
Wood  now  in  Fresco;  there's  a  strange  Variety  of  Matter  in't; 
so  many  Trees,  and  but  one  of  a  sort ;  and  all  exprest  to  the 


38  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Life  :  and  so  for  the  Birds  too,  especially  if  any  way  remark- 
able. .  .  .  Eu.  Here's  an  indifferent  fair  Garden  cut  into  two : 
the  one's  for  the  Kitchin,  and  that's  my  Wife's  ;  the  other  is  a 
Physick  Garden.  Upon  the  left  hand,  you  have  an  open  green 
Meadow  enclosed  with  a  Quickset-Hedge,  (septum  est  sepe 
perpetua  e  spinis  implexis,  sed  vivis  contexta).  There  do  I 
take  the  Air  sometimes,  and  divert  myself  with  good  Company. 
Upon  the  right  hand  there's  a  Nursery  (Orchard)  of  foreign 
Plants,  which  I  have  brought  by  degrees  to  endure  this  Climate. 
At  the  end  of  the  upper  Walk,  there's  an  Aviary  :  at  the  further 
end  of  the  Orchard,  I  have  my  Bees,  which  is  a  sight  worth  your 
Curiosity. 

This  Summer  Hall,  I  suppose,  you  have  had  enough  of  It 
looks  three  ways,  you  see ;  and  which  way  soever  you  turn  your 
Eye,  you  have  a  most  delicate  Green  before  ye.  .  .  .  Here  do  I 
eat  in  my  House,  as  if  I  were  in  my  Garden ;  for  the  very  Walls 
have  their  Greens  and  their  Flowers  intermixt,  and  'tis  no  ill 
Painting.  .  .  .  You  shall  now  see  my  Library  :  'tis  no  large  one, 
but  furnish'd  with  very  good  Books.  ...  To  my  Library  there 
belongs  a  Gallery,  that  looks  into  the  Garden.  Let's  go  those 
three  Walks  now  above  the  other,  that  I  told  you  look'd  into 
the  Kitchen-Garden.  These  upper  Walks  have  a  Prospect  into 
both  Gardens,  but  only  through  Windows  with  Shutters.  .  .  . 
At  each  Corner  there's  a  Lodging-Chamber,  where  I  can  repose 
myself,  within  sight  of  my  Orchard,  and  my  little  Birds. — 
Colloquia:  '■  Conviviiim  Reli^osum.'  {Translated  by  Sir  Roger 
L' Estrange,  Kt.) 

SIR  npHEY  set  great  store  by  their  gardeins.     In  them  they  have 

THOMAS       I  o  -'  o  ^ 

MORE  vineyardes,  all  manner  of  fruite,   herbes   and   flowres,   so 

(1480-1535).   pleasaunt,  so  well  furnished,  and  so  fynely  kepte,  that   I  never 

sawe  thynge  more  frutefull,  nor  better  trimmed  in  anye  place. 

Their  sludie  and  deligence  herein  commeth  not  onely  of  pleasure, 

but  also  of  a  certen  strife  and  contention  that  is  between  strete 

and  strete,  concerning  the  trimming,  husbanding,  and  furnishing 


MARTIN  LUTHER  39 

of  their  gardens :  everye  man  for  his  owne  parte.  And  verelye 
you  shall  not  lightelye  finde  in  all  the  citie  anyethinge,  that  is 
more  commodious,  eyther  for  the  profite  of  the  Citizens  or  for 
pleasure.  And  therefore  it  maye  seme  that  the  first  founder  of 
the  citie  mynded  nothing  so  much  as  these  gardens.  For  they 
saye  that  Kinge  Utopus  himselfe,  even  at  the  first  beginning, 
appointed,  and  drewe  furth  the  plattefourme  of  the  city  into 
this  fashion  and  figure  that  it  hath  nowe,  but  the  gallant 
garnishinge,  and  the  beautifull  settinge  furth  of  it,  whereunto 
he  saw  that  one  mannes  age  would  not  suffice :  that  he  left  to 
his  posteritie.— C^/^//fl  {Of  the  cities  and  namely  of  A7naurote), 
translated  by  Ralph  Robinson, 

1  HOLD  that  the  whole  world  was  named  a  Paradise.     Moses  MARTIN 

■^     describes  it  according  to  Adam's  sight,  so  far  as  hee  could  see;  ^H'^'^^^ 

but  it  was  called  Paradise  by  reason  it  was  all  over  so  sweet  and 

pleasant.     Adam  was,  and  dwelled  towards  the  East  in  Syria  and 

Arabia,  when  hee  was  created  :  but  after  hee  had  sinned,  then  it 

was  no  more  so  delightful  and  pleasant. 

Even  so  in  our  time  hath  God  cursed  likewise  fruitful  lands, 

and  hath  caused  them  to  bee  barren  and  unfruitful  by  reason  of 

our  sins :   for  where  God  gives  not  His  blessing,  there  grows 

nothing  that  is  good  and  profitable ;  but  where  He  blesseth,  there 

all  things  grow  plentifully,   and  are  fruitful.^ — Colloquia  {Table 

Talk). 

—fj\j\j\t' — 

A  ND  blissful  blossoms  in  the  blooming  yard  GAWEN 

-'*■     Submit  their  heads  to  the  young  sun's  safe-guard.  DOUGLAS- 

Ivy  leaves  rank  o'erspread  the  barmkin  wall,  Dimkeld 

The  blooming  hawthorn  clad  his  pikis  all.  (1474-1522). 

^  In  the  spring  of  1538,  Luther  writes  to  Jonas  that,  instead  of  being  forced 
to  carry  on  tedious  and  often  fruitless  business,  he  would  much  rather,  as  an 
old  and  worn-out  man,  be  delighting  himself  in  his  gardens  with  the  wonders 
of  God — trees,  plants,  flowers,  and  birds ;  but  that  he  was  fully  conscious  ot 
having  deserved  these  burdens  by  past  sins.— futi'us  Koestliiis  '■Martin 
Luther. ' 


40  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Forth  from  fresh  burgeons  the  wine-grapes  ying 

End-long  the  trellises  did  in  clusters  hing. 

The  locked  buttons  on  the  gemmed  trees, 

O'erspreading  leaves  of  Nature's  tapestries. 

Soft  gresy  verdure  after  balmy  showers 

On  curling  stalk(y)s  smiling  to  their  flowers. 

Beholding  them  so  many  diverse  new 

Some  pers,  some  paille,  some  burnet,  and  some  blue, 

Some  grey,  some  gules,  some  purple,  some  sanguine. 

Blanched,  or  brown,  some  fawch,  yallow  many  a  one. 

Some  heavenly  coloured  in  celestial  (de)gree, 

Some  watery-hued  as  the  deep  wavy  sea. 

And  some  depart  in  freckles  red  and  white, 

Some  bright  as  gold  with  aureate  leavys  light ; 

The  daisy  spread  abroad  her  crownet  small, 

And  every  flower  onlappit  in  the  dale. 

In  battle  gear  burgeons  the  banewort  wild. 

The  clover,  catcluke,  and  the  cammamyld  ; 

The  flower-de-luce  forth  spread  his  heavenly  hue, 

Flower  Damasks,  and  Columbine  white  and  blue, 

Seyr  downye  small  on  Dent-de-lion  sprang, 

The  young  green  blooming  strawberry-leaves  amang. 

— Prologue  to  Ttvelfth  Book  of  ^neid 
{slightly  modernised). 

— wvw— 

ZEHIR-  Emperor  of  Hindustan,  one  of  the  descendants  of  Zengiskhan  and  of  Ta7ner- 

ED-DIN  tane,  extended  Jiis  dominions   by  conqziest  to  Deltii  and  the  greater  part  of 

MU HAMMED    Hindustan;  and trans7}iitted to  his  famotis  descendants,  Akber  and  Attreng- 

—snrnamed  Baber  ^^^^^    ^j^^    magnificetit  Empire    of  the  Moguls.      A   desperate    warrior,    an 

(14.82  i!;^)  elegant  poet,  a  great  admirer  of  beaiitifnl  prospects  arid  fine  flowers,  a  very 

resolute  and  jovial  d>inker  of  wine.      The  following  extracts  are  from  a  faithful 

translation  of  his  Jotirnal  and  Narrative  of  his  life  and  transactiofis. — (Lord 

Jeffrey's  Review  of  '  Memoirs  of  Baber,'  by  Leyland  &  Erskine,  1827). 

OPPOSITE    to   the   fort  of  Adinaphftr  (south  of  the  Kabul 
river),    to   the   south    on    a    rising    ground,    I    formed   a 
charbagh  (great  garden),  in  the  year  914  (=  1508).     It  is  called 


ZEHIR-ED-DIN  MUHAMMED  41 

Bagh-e  Vafa  (the  Garden  of  Fidelity).  It  overlooks  the  river, 
which  flows  between  the  fort  and  the  palace.  In  the  year  in 
which  I  defeated  Behar  Khan,  and  conquered  Lahore  and 
Dibalp{ir,  I  brought  plantains  and  planted  them  here.  They 
grew  and  thrived.  The  year  before  I  had  also  planted  the  Sugar- 
cane in  it,  which  throve  remarkably  well.  I  sent  some  of  them 
to  Badakshan  and  Bokhara.  It  is  on  an  elevated  site,  enjoys 
running  water,  and  the  climate  in  the  winter  season  is  temperate. 
In  the  garden  there  is  a  small  hillock,  from  which  a  stream  of 
water,  sufficient  to  drive  a  mill,  incessantly  flows  into  the  garden 
below.  The  four-fold  field  plot  of  this  garden  is  situated  on  this 
•eminence.  On  the  south-west  part  of  this  garden  is  a  reservoir 
of  water  ten  gaz  square,  which  is  wholly  planted  round  with 
orange  trees  ;  there  are  likewise  pomegranates.  All  around  the 
piece  of  water  the  ground  is  quite  covered  with  clover.  This  spot 
is  the  very  eye  of  the  beauty  of  the  garden.  At  the  time  when 
the  orange  becomes  yellow,  the  prospect  is  delightful.  Indeed  the 
garden  is  charmingly  laid  out.  To  the  south  of  the  garden  lies 
the  Koh-e-Sefid  (the  White  Mountain)  of  Nangenhar,  which 
separates  Bengash  from  Nangenhar.  There  is  no  road  by  which 
one  can  pass  it  on  horseback.  Nine  streams  descend  from  this 
mountain.  The  snow  on  its  summit  never  diminishes,  whence 
probably  comes  the  name  of  Kok-e-Sefid.  No  snow  ever  falls  in 
the  dales  at  its  foot.  .  .  . 

Few  quarters  possess  a  district  that  can  rival  Istalif.  A  large 
river  runs  through  it,  and  on  either  side  of  it  are  gardens,  green, 
gay,  and  beautiful.  Its  water  is  so  cold  that  there  is  no  need  of 
icing  it ;  and  it  is  particularly  pure.  In  this  district  is  a  garden 
called  Bagh-e-Kilan  (the  Great  Garden),  which  Ulugh  Beg  Mirza 
seized  upon.  I  paid  the  price  of  the  garden  to  the  proprietors, 
and  received  from  them  a  grant  of  it.  On  the  outside  of  the 
garden  are  large  and  beautiful  spreading  plane-trees,  under  the 
shade  of  which  there  are  agreeable  spots  finely  sheltered.  A 
perennial  stream,  large  enough  to  turn  a  mill,  runs  through  the 
garden ;  and  on  its  banks  are  planted  plane  and  other  trees. 
Formerly  this  stream  flowed  in  a  winding  and  crooked  course,  but 


42  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

I  ordered  its  course  to  be  altered  according  to  a  regular  plan, 
which  added  greatly  to  the  beauty  of  the  place. 

— "/vw^ — 

MAYSTER  Fitzherbarde  is  either  Sir  Anthony  Fitzherbert,  Judge  of  the  Common 
FITZHER-  Pleas  and  author  of  the  '  Grand  Ab7'idgment  of  the  Common  Law,'  or  his 
BARDE         brother  John  Fitzherbert  {d.   1538). 

(~\^  bees  is  lyttell  charge  but  good  attendaunce ;  at  the  time 
^^  that  they  shall  cast  the  swarme,  it  is  convenient  that  the 
hyve  be  set  in  a  garden,  or  an  orchyarde,  where  as  they  maye 
be  kepte  from  the  northe  wynde,  and  the  mouthe  of  the  hyve 
towarde  the  sonne. 

To  plasshe  or  pleche  a  hedge. 

If  the  hedge  be  of  x  or  xii  yeres  growing  sythe  it  was 
first  set,  thanne  take  a  sharpe  hatchet,  or  a  handbyll  and  cutte 
the  settes  in  a  playne  place,  nyghe  unto  the  erthe,  the  more 
halve  a-sonder ;  and  bend  it  downe  towarde  the  erthe,  and  wrappe 
and  wynde  them  together,  but  alwaye  so  that  the  toppe  lye  hyer 
than  the  rote  a  good  quantytie,  for  elles  the  sappe  wyll  not  runne 
in-to  the  toppe  kyndely,  but  in  processe  the  toppe  wyll  dye ;  and 
than  set  a  lyttel  hedge  on  the  backe-syde,  and  it  shall  need  noo 
more  mendynge  manye  yeres  after.  The  Boke  oj  Husbandry,  1534 
{^edited  by  Skeat,  1882). 

POLYDORE  In  1498,  Polydore  Vergil  published  '  Adagia  '  before  Erasmus,  who  was 
VERGIL  ajtd  remained  his  frietid ;    1499,    De  Rerum   Inventoribus ;    1503,   sent  to 

^  ■     555i'  England  by  Pope  Alexander   VI.   to  collect  Peter-pence  and  stayed  fifty  years 

there  ;  Rector  of  Church  Langton,  Leicestershire,  and  Archdeacon  of  Wells ; 

his  ffistory  of  England  in  Latitt  finished  1533. 

I  HAVE  diligentlie  noted  at  London,  a  cittie  in  the  south  partes 
^  of  the  riolme,  that  the  nighte  is  scarslie  v  houres  in  length  in 
soommer  when  as  the  sonne  is  at  his  highest  reache.  .  .  .  The 
grojvnde  is  luxurient  and  frutefuU ;  besides  come  and  pulse,  of 
the  owne  accorde  bringing  forthe  all  kinde  of  matter,  saving  firre 
and  (as  Caesar  saithe)  beeche  trees,  with  diverse  other,  as  olives 


CHARLES  ESTIENNE  43  j 

which  are  woonte  to  growe  in  whotter  soyles ;  but  yt  is  well  known  i 

that  nowe  there  are   beeches   eche  where   in   the  londe.     Thei  • 

plante  vines  in  their  gardins,  rather  for  covert  and  commoditee  j 

of  shaddowe  then  for  the  fruite,  for  the  grape  seldom  commeth  1 

to  ripenes  excepte  an  hotte  summer  ensewe. —  English  History,  1 

edited  by  Sir  Henry  Ellis,  for  Camden  Society.  i 

Son  of  Henri  Estienne ;  Doctor  of  Medicine,  Royal  Printer  and  attthor  <?/"  CHARLES 
several  treatises  on  Medicine,   Natural  History,    and  Agriculture — 'Z>f   re  ESTIENNE 
Hortensi  Lil>ellus,'  1545,  07i  the  Antiquities  of  Gardening.  (STEPHENS) 

-     Collaborated  with  Jean  Liiibault,  MMicin  {d.  1596),  to  produce  'La  Maison  ( ^504"  1564)- 
Rustiipie '  {Prcedium  Rusticum),  translated  into  English  by  R.  Surflet  (1600), 
and  reprinted  -with  additions  from   Olivier  de  Serres,    Vinet  and  others,  by  j 

Gervase  Markham  in  1616.  | 

I 

"HpHE  most  pleasant  and  Delectable  thing  for  recreation  belong-  Surjlet's 

^       ing  unto  our  French  Fermes,  is  our  Flower  Gardens,  as  well  ^^'^n^l^^Hon.  \ 

in  respect  that  it  serveth  for  the  chiefe  Lord,  whose  the  inheritance 
is,  to  solace  himselfe  therein,  as  also  in  respect  of  their  service,  for 
to  set  Bee-hives  in.  It  is  a  commendable  and  seemely  thing  to 
behold  out  at  a  window  manie  acres  of  ground  well  tilled  and 
husbanded,  whether  it  be  a  Medow,  a  Plot  for  planting  of  Willowes, 
or  arable  ground,  as  we  have  stood  upon  heretofore  :  but  yet  it  is 
much  more  to  behold  faire  and  comely  Proportions,  handsome  and 
pleasant  Arbors,  and,  as  it  were.  Closets,  delightfuU  borders  of 
Lavender,  Rosemarie,  Boxe,  and  other  such  like :  to  heare  the 
ravishing  musicke  of  an  infinite  number  of  pretie  small  Birds, 
which  continually,  day  and  night,  doe  chatter,  and  chant  their 
proper  and  naturall  branch-songs  upon  the  Hedges  and  Trees  of 
the  Garden ;  and  to  smell  so  sweet  a  Nose-gay  so  neere  at  hand ; 
seeing  that  this  so  fragrant  a  smell  cannot  but  refresh  the  Lord  of 
the  Farme  exceedingly,  when  going  out  of  his  bed-chamber  in  the 
morning  after  the  Sunne-rise,  and  whiles  as  yet  the  cleare  and 
pearle-like  dew  doth  pearche  unto  the  grasse,  he  giveth  himself 
to  heare  the  melodious  musicke  of  the  Bees;  which  busying 
themselves  in  gathering  of  the  same,  doe  also  fill  the  ayre  with 


44 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


This  section 
is  not  in 
Surjlefs 
translation  oj 
1 600,  and  is 
due  to  G. 
Markhani. 


a  most  acceptable  sweet  and  pleasant  harmonie :  besides,  the 
Borders  and  continued  Rowes  of  soveraigne  Thyme,  Balme, 
Rosemarie,  Marierome  (Marjoram),  Cypers,  Soothernwood,  and 
other  fragrant  hearbes,  the  sight  and  view  whereof  cannot  but 
give  great  contentment  unto  the  beholder. 

And  in  this  Garden  of  Pleasure  you  are  verie  much  to  respect 
the  forme  and  proportion  of  the  same :  wherein,  according  to 
the  opinion  of  Serves  and  Uniett  (Vinet),  you  must  be  much 
ruled  by  the  nature  of  the  Soyle :  which  albeit  you  may,  in 
part,  by  your  industrie  and  cost  helpe,  as  touching  the  leveUing, 
raysing,  abating,  or  enriching  of  the  same ;  yet,  for  the  most 
part,  and  especially  touching  the  ayre,  temperature,  and  clyme, 
you  must  be  governed  by  the  Soyle  in  which  you  live.  Now 
for  the  general  proportions  of  Gardens,  they  may  at  your 
pleasure  carrie  anie  of  these  foure  shapes,  that  is  to  say,  either 
Square,  Round,  Ovall  or  Diamond.  As  for  that  which  is  more 
long  than  broad,  or  more  broad  than  long  (neither  of  which 
are  uncomely),  they  are  contained  under  the  titles  of  Squares. 
This  is  but  the  outward  proportion ;  or  the  Verge  and  Girdle 
of  your  Garden.  As  for  the  inward  proportions  and  shapes 
of  the  Quarters,  Beds,  Bankes,  Mounts  and  such  like,  they  are 
to  be  divided  by  AUeyes,  Hedges,  Borders,  Rayles,  Pillars,  and 
such  like,  and  by  these  you  may  draw  your  Garden  into  what 
form  soever  you  please,  not  respecting  what  shape  soever  the 
outward  Verge  carrieth ;  for  you  may  make  that  Garden  which 
is  square  without,  to  be  round  within ;  and  that  which  is  round, 
either  square  or  ovall;  that  which  is  ovall,  either  of  the  former 
and  that  which  is  diamond,  anie  shape  at  all :  and  yet  all  exceed- 
ingly comely.  You  may  also,  if  your  ground  be  naturally  so 
seated,  or  if  your  industrie  please  so  to  bring  it  to  passe,  make 
your  Garden  rise  and  mount  by  severall  degrees,  one  levell 
ascending  above  another,  in  such  sort  as  if  you  had  divers 
gardens  one  above  another,  which  is  exceeding  beautifuU  to 
the  eie,  and  very  beneficiall  to  your  flowers  and  fruit  trees, 
especially  if  such  ascents  have  the  benefit  of  the  Sun-rising 
upon  them :  and  thus,  if  you  please,  you  may  have  in  one  levell 


BERNARD  PALISSY  45 

a  square  plot,  in  another  a  round,  in  a  third  a  diamond,  and  in 
the  fourth  an  ovall,  then  alongst  the  ascending  bankes  which  are 
on  either  side  the  staires,  you  mount  into  your  severall  gardens, 
you  shall  make  your  physicke  garden  or  places  to  plant  your 
physicke  hearbes  upon,  according  as  the  modell  is  most  bravely 
set  forth  by  Oliver  de  Serres,  and  as  the  late  King  of  France 
caused  his  physicke  garden  to  be  made  in  the  Universitie  of 
Montpellier,^  being  all  raised  upon  bankes  or  heights  one  above 
another,  some  round,  some  square,  in  the  manner  of  a  goodly, 
large,  and  well-trimmed  Theatre  as  may  be  seene  at  this  day  to 
the  great  admiration  thereof. — Maison  Rustique,  or,  the  Coimtrey 
Farme.  Compyled  in  the  French  Tongue  by  Charles  Stevens,  and 
John  Liebault,  Doctors  of  Physicke.  And  translated  into  English 
by  Richard  Sitrflet,  Practitioner  in  Physicke.  Now  newly  Reviewed, 
Corrected,  and  Augmented,  ivith  divers  large  Additions,  out  of  the 
f  Serres,  his  Agriculture,  ^ 

M/   -h      /'    ^"^'^^^^5  ^^^  Maison  Champestre,    j 


j   Albyterio,  in  Spanish, 


Grilli,  in  Italian,  and  other  Authors. 
And  the  Husbandrie  of  France,  Italic,  and  Spaine,  reconciled  and 
made  to  agree  with  ours  here  in  England.     By  Gervase  Markhafn, 
London.     Printed  by  Adam  Islip  for  John  Bill,  1616. 

— '•t\f\f\f. — 

Potter,  Glass- Painter,  Chemist,  Agriculturist  and  Engineer.  BERNARD 

He  designed  the  rustic  grotto  for  the  Gardens  of  the  Cottstable  Montmorency  PALISSY 
at  the  Chateau  d'Ecouen:  was  employed  at  the  founding  of  the  Tuileries  by  ( I5°''"I5°9)' 
Queen  Catherine  de  Midicis  in  1566,  Philibert  de  I'Orme  being  the  Architect. 
In  ike  Gardens  here,  of  which  the  desigtt  by  Attdrouet  du  Cerceau  is  in  exist- 
ence, Palissy  constructed  his  famous  Grotto,  as  described  in  the  following 
extract.  The  Park  at  Chaulnes  was  laid  out  after  a  plan  resembling  the 
'  delectable  Garden  ' ;  Palissy  was  also  employed  at  the  Chateau  de  Nesle  in 
Picardy,  Reux  in  Normandy,  and  possibly  the  Chateau  de  Madrid,  in  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne.  In  the  dedication  of  his  book,  '  Recepte  Veritable,'  to  the  Queen 
Mother,  he  wrote :  '  It  y  a  des  choses  escrites  en  ce  livre  qui  pourront  beau- 
coup  servir  h  V idifcation  de  vostre  ja7-din  de  Chenonceux." 

^  See  illustration  in  de  Serres's  Th4dtre  cC Agriculture. 


46  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

John  Evelyn  wrote  of  him  in  the  Preface  to  his  * Sylva' : — '  It  was  indeed 
a  plain  man  {a  Potter  by  trade),  but  let  no  one  despise  him  because  a  Potter 
(Agathocles  and  a  King  was  of  that  craft),  who,  in  viy  opinion  has  given  us 
the  true  reason  why  Husbandry  and  particularly  Planting  is  no  more  improved 
in  this  age  of  ours — especially  where  persons  are  Lords  and  owners  of  much 
land. ' 

A  LSO,  because  you  are  a  puissant  and  magnanimous  Lord, 
-'*■  and  of  good  judgment,  I  have  found  it  good  to  design  for 
you  the  plan  of  a  garden  as  beautiful  as  the  world  ever  held, 
except  that  of  the  Earthly  Paradise,  which  design  of  a  garden 
I  am  assured  you  will  find  of  good  invention.  ...  I  have  not 
put  the  portrait  of  the  said  garden  in  this  book,  because  several 
are  unworthy  to  see  it,  and  singularly  enemies  to  virtue  and 
good  engt'n ',  also  my  poverty  and  occupation  in  my  art 
would  not  permit  it.  I  know  that  some  ignorant  people — 
enemies  to  virtue  and  calumniators — will  say  that  the  design  of 
this  garden  is  only  a  dream,  and  will  perhaps  compare  it  to 
the  '  Dream  of  Polyphilus,'  ^  or  say  that  it  will  be  too  costly, 
and  that  a  suitable  place  could  not  be  found  for  the  erection 
of  the  said  garden,  according  to  the  design.  To  this  I  answer 
that  there  are  more  than  four  thousand  noble  houses  in  France, 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  which  are  several  suitable  spots  to  erect 
the  said  garden,  according  to  the  tenour  of  my  design. — Dedica- 
tion to  the  Mareschal  de  Mo>itmorency  of  the  ^  Recepte  Veritable.^ 

Question. — I  prythee  discourse  to  me  on  the  plan  of  the  garden 
thou  desirest  to  build. 

Answer. — It  is  impossible  to  have  a  spot  proper  for  a  garden, 
unless  there  be  some  fountain  or  stream  passing  through  it :  and 
for  this  reason  I  wish  to  choose  a  level  spot  at  the  foot  of  some 

^  The  '  Hypnerotomachia  Polyphili '  of  Fra  Francesco  Colonna,  (Aldus,  1499), 
and  better  known  in  its  French  translation  of  '  Le  Songe  de  Polyphile  *  by 
Beroalde  de  Verville,  Paris,  fol.,  1600,  of  which  the  designs  are  said  to  be  by 
Jean  Goujon  ;  there  are  numerous  lovely  woodcuts  illustrating  arbors,  foun- 
tains, trellises  and  garden  scenes.  P'acsimiles  of  the  woodcuts  of  the  Venice 
edition  of  1499  have  been  reproduced,  1888. 


BERNARD  PALISSY  47 

mountain  or  highland,  with  a  view  to  take  some  spring  of  water 
from  the  said  land,  to  make  it  course  at  my  pleasure  through  all 
the  parts  of  my  garden. 

Question. — Tell  me,  then,  how  you  propose  to  adorn  your 
garden,  after  you  have  bought  the  ground. 

Answer. — In  the  first  place,  I  shall  mark  out  the  square  of 
my  garden,  of  such  length  and  breadth  as  I  shall  hold  to  be 
requisite,  and  I  shall  form  the  said  square  in  some  plain  which 
may  be  encompassed  by  mountains,  burrows  or  rocks,  towards 
the  side  of  the  North  wind  and  of  the  West  wind,  in  order 
that  the  said  mountains,  burrows  or  rocks  may  serve  me  for 
the  purposes  which  I  shall  presently  tell  you.  I  shall  be 
careful,  too,  to  place  my  garden  near  some  spring  of  water 
issuing  from  the  said  rocks,  and  coming  from  high  ground, 
and,  this  done,  I  shall  make  my  said  square ,  but,  wherever 
it  may  be,  I  mean  to  set  up  my  garden  in  a  place  where  there 
may  be  a  meadow  beyond,  to  issue  sometimes  from  the  garden 
into  the  meadow;  and  this  for  the  reasons  which  shall  be 
presently  given.  And  having  thus  established  the  situation  of 
the  garden,  I  shall  next  proceed  to  divide  it  into  four  equal 
parts;  and,  for  the  separation  of  the  said  parts,  there  will  be 
a  long  alley,  which  shall  cross  the  said  garden,  and  at  the 
four  ends  of  the  said  cross-way  there  will  be  at  each  end  an 
arbour  (cabmet),  and  in  the  middle  of  the  garden  and  cross- 
way  there  will  be  an  amphitheatre  such  as  I  shall  presently 
describe  to  you.  At  each  of  the  four  corners  of  the  said 
garden  there  will  be  an  arbour,  making  eight  arbours  in  all 
and  one  amphitheatre,  which  will  be  set  up  in  the  garden ; 
but  you  must  understand  that  all  the  eight  arbours  will 
be  differently  filled,  and  of  such  invention  as  has  never 
yet  been  seen  or  heard  tell  of.  That  is  why  I  mean  to 
found  my  garden  upon  the  Psalm  civ.,  the  one  wherein 
the  prophet  describes  the  excellent  and  wonderful  works 
of  God,  and  in  their  contemplation  he  humbles  himself 
before  Him,  and  bids  his  friend  to  praise  the  Lord  in  all 
His  wonders. 


48  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

I  intend  also  to  set  up  this  admirable  garden  in  order  to 
give  men  an  opportunity  to  make  themselves  lovers  of  the 
cultivation  of  the  earth,  and  to  leave  all  vicious  occupations 
or  delights,  and  evil  commerce,  to  amuse  themselves  by  cultiva- 
tion of  the  earth. 

Question. — I  prithee,  discourse  to  me  of  those  beautiful  cabinets, 
which  thou  proposest  thus  to  raise. 

Answer. — In  the  first  place,  thou  must  understand  that  I 
shall  conduct  the  stream  of  water,  or  part  of  that  from  the 
rock,  to  the  eight  cabinets  aforesaid.  This  will  be  easy  enough 
to  do ;  for  as  soon  as  the  water  distils  from  the  mountain 
or  rock,  I  shall  lead  its  spring  through  all  parts  of  the  garden, 
as  shall  seem  good ;  and  give  a  portion  to  each  cabinet,  as 
I  shall  find  necessary,  and  shall  build  my  cabinets  with 
such  invention  that  from  each  shall  issue  more  than  a  hundred 
jets  of  water,  and  this  by  the  means  I  shall  discover  to  you, 
in  discoursing  of  the  beauty  of  the  cabinets.  Let  us  now  come 
to  the  description  of  all  my  cabinets  in  turn. 

OF   THE    FIRST   CABINET. 

The  first,  which  shall  face  the  North  wind  at  the  corner  and 
anglet  of  the  garden,  at  the  bottom  and  adjoining  the  foot  of 
the  mountain  or  rock,  I  shall  build  of  terra  cotta  {brigues  cuites), 
but  they  shall  be  formed  in  such  a  way  that  the  cabinet  shall 
resemble  the  form  of  a  rock  hollowed  out  upon  the  very  spot, 
having  inside  several  hollow  seats  within  the  wall,  and  between 
every  two  seats  there  will  be  a  column,  and  below  this  a  pedestal, 
and  above  the  capitals  to  the  columns  there  will  be  an  archi- 
trave, frieze  and  cornice,  which  shall  prevail  round  the  said 
cabinet,  and  along  the  frieze  will  be  certain  antique  letters 
adorning  the  said  frieze,  and  along  it  shall  be  written,  JDieu  fi'a 
prins  plaisir  en  rien,  sinon  en  Fhomme,  auqiiel  hahite  Sapience 
(God  has  taken  no  pleasure  in  aught,  save  in  Man,  in  whom 
dwelleth  Wisdom) :  and  thus  my  cabinet  will  have  its  windows 
towards  the  South,  and  the  said  windows  and   entrance  to  the 


\ 


BERNARD  PALISSY  49 

cabinet  shall  be  in  the  shape  of  a  rock :  therefore  the  said 
cabinet  shall  be  on  the  sides  of  the  North  and  West  masoned 
against  the  terriers  or  rocks,  so  that  in  descending  from  the 
high  land,  one  can  come  upon  the  said  cabinet  without 
knowing  there  is  any  building  below ;  and  to  make  the  cabinet 
pleasanter,  I  shall  plant  upon  its  vault  several  bushes  bearing 
fruits  good  to  nourish  birds,  and  also  certain  herbs,  whose 
seeds  they  love,  to  accustom  the  said  birds  to  repose  and 
utter  their  songlets  on  the  said  bushes,  to  give  pleasure  to 
those  within  the  cabinet  and  garden,  and  on  its  outside  will 
be  masonry  of  great  stones  of  rocks,  unpolished  and  rough- 
hewn,  in  order  that  the  outside  of  the  cabinet  may  represent 
no  shape  of  building :  and  with  the  masonry  I  shall  introduce 
a  canal  of  water,  which  I  shall  cause  to  pass  within  the  wall, 
and  thus  masoned  in  the  wall,  I  shall  distribute  it  in  several 
directions  by  jets,  in  such  a  way  as  shall  appear  that  they 
issued  from  the  rock  like  water-falls  .  .  .  when  the  cabinet 
is  thus  masoned  I  shall  cover  it  with  various  colours  of  enamels 
from  the  top  of  the  vaults  to  the  foot;  this  done  I  shall 
make  a  great  fire  within  the  cabinet,  until  the  said  enamels 
are  melted  or  liquified  on  the  masonry — and  the  enamels 
liquifying  will  run  and  fuse,  and  in  fusing  will  form  very 
pleasant  figures  and  ideas,  and  the  fire  being  put  out,  the 
enamels  will  be  found  to  have  covered  the  joints  of  the  bricks 
in  such  a  way  that  the  cabinet  will  appear  all  of  one  piece — 
and  the  cabinet  will  glow  with  such  a  lustre  that  the  lizards 
and  langrottes  entering  will  behold  themselves  as  in  a 
mirror,  and  will  admire  the  statues ;  and  if  any  one  surprises 
them,  they  will  not  be  able  to  ascend  the  wall  of  the  cabinet 
because  of  its  polish,  and  in  this  way  the  cabinet  will  last 
for  ever,  and  will  require  no  tapestry,  for  its  decoration  will  be 
of  such  beauty  as  if  it  were  jasper  or  porphyry  or  well-polished 
calcedony. 

I  have  not  found  in  this  world  a  greater  source  of  delight 
than  to  possess  a  beautiful  garden;  thus  God,  having  created 
the  earth  for  the  service  of  man,  placed  him  in  a  garden  in 

D 


so  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

which  were  several  kinds  of  fruits,  which  was  the  cause  wliy, 
when  meditating  the  sense  of  Psalm  civ.,  as  I  have  told  you 
above,  straightway  there  took  hold  of  me  so  great  a  desire  to 
set  up  my  said  garden,  that  since  that  time  I  have  done  nought 
but  dream  about  the  erection  thereof,  and  very  often  in  my 
sleep  me-seemed  that  my  garden  was  already  made  in  the  same 
shape  as  I  have  told  you,  and  that  I  was  already  beginning 
to  eat  the  fruits,  and  to  recreate  myself  therein,  and  methought 
that  passing  in  the  morning  through  the  said  garden,  I 
came  to  consider  the  wonderful  actions  which  the  Sovereign 
has  commanded  Nature  to  perform,  and  amongst  other  things 
I  gazed  upon  the  branches  of  the  vines,  peas,  and  gourds 
which  seemed  to  have  some  feeling  and  knowledge  of  their 
weakly  nature ;  for  being  unable  to  support  themselves,  they 
threw  out  certain  small  arms,  like  threads,  into  the  air,  and 
finding  some  small  branch  or  bough,  proceeded  to  bind  and 
attach  themselves  to  it,  without  separating  from  it  again,  in  order 
to  support  the  parts  of  their  weakly  nature. — ^Jardin  Delectable.^ 

'The  Archives  of  the  History  of  Switzerland'  (Zurich,  1864) 
give  an  account  of  a  visit  of  the  Swiss  Ambassadors  to  the 
Tuileries,   nth  May  1555: — 

'In  the  morning  the  Ambassadors  set  out  for  the  garden  of 
the  Queen,  called  the  Tuillerie.  The  garden  is  very  large 
and  very  pleasant.  A  broad  path  divides  it  into  two  parts, 
planted  on  each  side  with  tall  trees,  elms  and  sycamores,  which 
afford  shade  to  the  walkers.  There  is  a  labyrinth  designed 
with  such  art,  that,  once  inside,  the  exit  is  difficult.  There  are 
tables  made  of  branches  and  leaves,  beds,  etc.  The  astonishing 
thing  is  that  this  labyrinth  is  almost  entirely  formed  of  bent  cherry 
trees.  There  are  several  fountains  with  nymphs  and  fauns, 
holding  urns  from  which  the  water  flows.  One  is  especially 
remarkable.  It  is  a  rock  over  which  run  various  reptiles, 
serpents,  snails,  tortoises,  lizards,  frogs,  and  every  kind  of 
aquatic  animal.  They  also  poured  water — one  would  have 
said  the  rock  itself  exuded  water.' 

M.  Anatole  de  Montaiglon  sees  in  this  description  the  Grotto 


ANDROUET  DU  CERCEAU  51 

of  Palissy,  but  M.   Louis  Audiat  disagrees,   and  points  out   it 
is  a  fountain  not  a  2;rotto. 


— ^AA/Vv 


A  great  French  Architect,  whose  book  of  Designs  is  invalitable :  he  began  ANDROUET 

DU 
CERCE 

id.  1592) 


building  the  Pont  Netif  in  1578,  and  the   Gallery  of  the  Louvre  in   1596  :  ^U 

being  a  Protestant,  he  died  in  exile.  l^CKL/U/iU 


DEHIND  the  seignorial  mansion  of  Anet  there  is  a  terrace  — 

^  from  which  you  descend  into  the  garden.  Beneath  the  •^"^*- 
terrace  is  a  long  vaulted  gallery.  The  garden  is  of  great  size, 
and  richly  girt  with  galleries  all  round  about,  the  three  sides 
of  which  are  as  often  with  arched  as  with  square  openings  ;  the 
whole  rustic.  The  garden  is  ornamented  with  two  fountains. 
Behind  it  are  two  large  places  serving  as  parks,  separated  and 
shut  in.  These  places  are  fitted  as  enclosures  {jparquets),  some 
with  meadows,  others  with  clipped  trees  {taillis)  others  with 
warrens,  fruit-trees,  fish-ponds,  and  those  are  separated  by  alleys 
and  canals. 

Gaillon  is  fitted  with  two  gardens — one  of  which  is  on  a  Gaillon. 
level  with  the  Castle,  and  between  the  two  is  a  place  in  the 
manner  of  a  terrace.  Now  this  garden  is  adorned  (accompli) 
with  a  beautiful  and  agreeable  gallery,  worthy  to  be  so  called 
on  account  of  its  length,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  it  is  erected, 
with  a  view  over  the  garden  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  over 
the  said  valley,  towards  the  river.  In  the  midst  of  the  garden  is 
a  pavilion,  in  which  is  seen  a  fountain  in  white  marble.  As  to 
the  other  garden,  it  is  contained  in  this  valley,  over  which  the 
gallery  has  a  marvellously  wide  prospect,  adjoining  which  is  a 
park  of  vines,  dependent  on  the  house — not  enclosed.  Beyond, 
in  the  same  valley,  in  the  direction  of  the  river,  the  Cardinal  de 
Bourbon  has  erected  and  built  a  lieu  de  Chartreuse,  abounding 
with  every  pleasure.  Moreover  there  is  in  this  place  a  Park, 
which,  if  you  wish  to  enter,  either  from  the  house  or  from  the 
garden  above,  you  must  often  ascend,  as  well  by  alleys  covered 
with  trees,  as  by  terraces  always  looking  over  the  valley;   and 


52  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

continuing  you  reach  a  spot  wherein  is  built  a  little  chapel,  and 
a  little  house  with  a  hermitage  rock,  situated  in  the  middle  of  a 
lake,  with  a  square  margin,  and  round  this  are  little  alleys  for 
walking,  to  enter  which  you  must  pass  a  small  swing-gate.  Near 
to  this  is  a  small  garden,  and  therein  many  pedestals,  on  which 
are  placed  whole  figures  3  or  4  feet  high,  and  of  every  kind  of 
device ;  therewith,  some  alleys  {Bercces),  covered  with  hazel-trees. 
— *■  Les plus  excellents  Bastiments  de  France,^  1576-9. 

CONRAD  \I^^^  when  Thrasybulus,  travailing  in  the  affayres  of  his  prince, 

HERESBACH  i^     chaunced  to  come  to  the  house  of  Marius,  and  carried  by 
01509-157  )  i^jj^  jj^^Q  ^  Garden  that  he  had,  which  was  very  beautifuU,  being 

BARNABY        led  about  among  the  sweet  smelling  flowres,  and  under  the  pleasant 
GOOGE  Arbours,  what  a  goodly  sight  (quoth  Thrasybulus)  is  heere :  how 

excellently  have  you  garnished  this  paradise  of  yours  with  all 
kinde  of  pleasures :  your  Parlers,  and  your  banketting  houses 
both  within  and  without,  as  all  bedecked  with  pictures  of  beauti- 
fuU Flowres  and  Trees,  that  you  may  not  onely  feede  your  eyes 
with  the  beholding  of  the  true  and  lively  Flower,  but  also  delight 
yourselfe  with  the  counterfait  in  the  midst  of  winter,  seeing  in 
the  one,  the  painted  flower  to  contend  in  beautie  with  the  very 
flower;  in  the  other,  the  wonderfuU  worke  of  Nature,  and  in  both 
the  passing  goodness  of  God.  Moreover,  your  pleasant  Arbours 
to  walke  in,  whose  shaddowes  keepe  off  the  heate  of  the  sunne, 
and  if  it  fortune  to  raine,  the  cloisters  are  hard  by.  But  specially 
this  little  River,  with  most  cleere  water,  encompassing  the  garden, 
doth  wonderfully  set  it  forth,  and  herewithall  the  greene  and  goodly 
quickset  hedges,  no  chargeable  kinde  of  enclosures,  differeth  it 
both  from  Man  and  Beast.  I  speake  nothing  of  the  well  ordered 
quarters,  whereas  the  Hearbes  and  Trees  are  severed  every  sort 
in  their  due  place,  the  Pot-hearbes  by  themselves,  the  flowers  in 
another  place,  the  Trees  and  Impes  ^  in  another  quarter,  all  in 
just  square  and  proportion,  with  AUeis  and  walkes  among  them. 
^  Imp,  a  graft  or  shoot. 


MONTAIGNE  53 

Among  these  goodly  sights,  I  pray  you,  remember  according  to 
your  promise  (for  so  the  time  requireth)  to  shew  mee  some  part 
of  your  great  knowledge  in  Garden  matters,  sith  you  have  upon 
this  condition  heard  me  heretofore  grabling,  or  rather  wearying 
you  with  the  declaiming  of  my  poore  skill  in  the  tilling  of  the 
field.  .  .  . 

Mariiis. — Nature  hath  appointed  remedies  in  a  readinesse  for 
all  diseases,  but  the  craft  and  subtiltie  of  man,  for  gaine,  hath 
devised  Apothecaries  shops,  in  which  a  man's  life  is  to  be  sold 
and  bought ;  where  for  a  little  byle,  they  fetch  their  medicines 
from  Hierusalem,  and  out  of  Turkie,  while  in  the  meane  time 
every  poore  man  hath  the  right  remedies  growing  in  his 
Garden  :  for  if  men  would  make  their  Gardens  their  Phisitians, 
the  Phisitians  craft  would  soone  decay.  You  know  what  your 
olde  friend  Cato  saith,  and  what  a  deale  of  Phisicke  he  fetched 
out  of  a  poore  Colwort.  .  .  . 

Thrasybulus. — Every  thing  liketh  me  passing  well :  Good  Lord 
what  a  pleasant  ground,  what  a  Paradise  is  this  :  methinks  I  see 
the  Orchards  of  Alcinous,  the  Trees  are  set  Checkerwise,  and  so 
catred,  as  looke  which  way  you  will,  they  lie  levell :  King  Cyrus 
himselfve  never  had  better.  If  Lysander  had  ever  seene  this 
Orchard,  he  would  have  wondred  a  great  deal  more  than  he 
did  at  Cyrus  his  orchard. — '  The  whole  Art  and  Trade  of 
Husbandry''  {Of  Gardens,  Orchards,  afid  Woods),  efilarged  by 
Barnaby  Googe. 

— •Ai\l\rj~- 

ITUSBANDRY  is  otherwise  a  very  Servile  Employment,  as  MONTAIGNE 
*■  ^  Salusi  tells  us ;  though  some  parts  of  it  are  more  excusable  (^ 533  1592). 
than  the  rest,  as  the  Care  of  Gardens,  which  Zenophon  attributes  to 
Cyrus,  and  a  mean  may  be  found  out  betwixt  Sordid  and  Homely 
Affection,  so  full  of  perpetual  Solitude,  which  is  seen  in  Men 
who  make  it  their  entire  Business  and  Study,  and  that  stupid 
and  extream  Negligence,  letting  all  things  go  at  Random,  we 
see  in  others. — '  Of  Solitude.^ 


54  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

When  at  home,  I  a  little  more  frequent  my  library,  from 
whence  I  at  once  survey  all  the  whole  concerns  of  my  Family : 
'tis  situated  at  the  Entrance  into  my  House,  and  I  thence  under 
me  see  my  Garden,  Court  and  base  Court,  and  into  all  the  parts 
of  the  building.  Then  I  turn  over  now  one  Book  and  then 
another,  of  various  subjects,  without  method  or  design :  one 
while  I  meditate,  another  I  record,  and  dictate  as  I  walk  to 
and  fro,  such  whimsies  as  these  I  present  you  here. — Essays: 
Charles  Cotton^s  Translation. 

The  house  (of  the  Duke  Cosimo,  at  Castello  near  Florence)  is 
nothing  to  speak  of;  but  these  different  pieces  of  gardenage,  the 
whole  situated  on  the  slope  of  a  hill,  in  such  a  way  that  the 
straight  alleys  are  all  on  a  gentle  and  easy  decline ;  the  cross- 
alleys  are  straight  and  close.  There  are  several  galleries  (berceaux) 
to  be  seen  very  thickly  interwoven  and  covered  with  all  kinds 
of  aromatic  trees,  like  cedars,  cypresses,  orange,  lemon  and 
olive  trees,  the  branches  so  mingled  and  interlaced,  that  it  is 
easy  to  see  the  sun  at  its  greatest  strength  could  not  penetrate 
them.  The  trunks  of  the  cypresses  and  of  those  other  trees  are 
planted  in  rows  so  close  to  one  another,  that  only  three  or  four 
people  could  walk  abreast.  There  is  a  large  basin  amongst 
others,  in  the  midst  of  which  is  to  be  seen  a  natural  or  artificial 
rock,  which  seems  all  frozen  over  the  top,  by  means  of  the  same 
material  with  which  the  Duke  has  covered  his  grottos  at  Prato- 
lino ;  and  above  the  rock  is  a  great  copper  medallion,  repre- 
senting a  very  old  hairy  man  sitting  down,  his  arms  crossed,  from 
whose  beard,  forehead  and  skin,  drips  water  incessantly  drop  by 
drop,  representing  sweat  and  tears,  and  the  fountain  has  no  other 
conduit  but  this.  Elsewhere  they  had  an  amusing  experience — 
for  walking  through  the  Garden,  and  looking  at  its  singularities, 
the  gardener  having  left  them  for  the  purpose,  as  they  were 
standing  at  a  certain  spot  looking  at  the  marble  figures,  there 
issued  under  their  feet  and  between  their  legs  through  infinite 
small  holes,  jets  of  water  so  fine  as  to  be  almost  invisible,  and 
representing  sovereignly  well  the  distillation  of  fine  rain,  with 
which  they  were  all  spirted   by   means   of  some  subterranean 


TORQUATO  TASSO  55 

spring,  which  the  gardener  turned  on  more  than  200  paces  off, 
with  such  art  that  he  raised  and  depressed  these  ejaculations 
at  pleasure.  .  .  .  They  saw  too  the  head  fountain  issuing  from 
the  Canal  by  two  great  bronze  figures  .  .  .  there  is  also  an 
arbour  (Cabinet)  amid  the  branches  of  an  ever-green  tree,  but 
richer  than  any  other  they  had  seen — for  it  is  all  filled  with  the 
living  green  branches  of  the  tree,  and  all  round  the  arbour  is  so 
enclosed  with  this  verdure  that  there  is  no  view  except  through 
certain  openings,  which  must  be  made  by  separating  the  branches 
here  and  there;  and  in  the  middle,  through  a  concealed  pipe, 
mounts  a  stream  of  water  through  the  arbour,  in  the  centre  of 
a  small  marble  basin.  There  is  heard  too  the  water  music.  ,  .  . 
A  beautiful  grotto  is  also  to  be  seen,  where  every  kind  of  animal 
is  represented  materially,  emitting  either  by  the  beak,  the  wing, 
the  claw,  the  ear  or  the  nostril,  the  water  of  those  fountains. 

At  Rome  I  had  always  some  occupation,  if  not  so  agreeable 
as  I  could  wish,  at  least  sufficient  to  stave  off  ennui :  such  as 
visiting  the  Antiquities,  the  Vines,  which  are  the  Gardens  and 
pleasure-resorts,  of  singular  beauty ;  and  then  I  learnt  how  far 
art  could  turn  to  advantage  a  woody,  mountainous,  and  uneven 
spot,  for  they  draw  inimitable  graces  from  our  levels,  and  elude 
very  artistically  this  diversity.  Among  the  most  beautiful  are 
those  of  the  Cardinals  d'Este  at  Monte  Cavallo ;  Farnese 
on  the  Palatine ;  Ursino,  Sforza,  Medicis ;  that  of  Pope  Julius, 
that  of  Madama  (Marguerite,  Duchess  of  Parma) ;  the  Gardens  of 
Farnese,  and  of  Cardinal  Riario  at  Transtevere,  of  Cesio,  outside 
the  People's  Gate. — Travels  of  Alontaigne  in  Gerrnany  and  Italy. 

CORTHWITH  was  the  Table  furnished  with  Fruits,  as  Mellons,  TORQUATO 

*       Cytrons,  and  such  like,  which  at  the  end  of  Supper  were,  at  /  ^SSO 

ri  )        (1544- 1 595). 

a  wmcke  of  his,  reserved  and  set  up ;  and  then  he  began  thus. 
The  good  old  man  Coricius,  the  Gardener  of  whom  I  remember 
I  have  reade  in  Virgill : 

'  Nocte  domum  dapibus  mensas  onerabat  inemptis.' 
Hyed  home  at  night  and  fild  his  bord  with  delicats  unbought ; 


56  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

and  in  imitation  whereof  Petrarch  speaketh,  reasoning  of  his 
Plowman  : 

'  Epoi  la  mensa  ingombra 

Di  povere  vivande, 

Simili  a  quelle  ghiande 

Le  qiiai  fuggendo  tutto  '1  mondo  honora.' 

And  then  he  decks  his  boord  about 

With  meats  of  meane  esteeme, 
Like  to  those  Jayes  whose  flight  contents 

The  world,  cause  faire  they  seeme. 

So  that  you  neede  not  mervaile  if  I  after  their  fashion,  fill  your 
Table  with  unbought  viands,  which,  though  they  bee  not  such 
as  you  are  used  to  taste  elsewhere,  remember  you  are  in  a 
Country  town,  and  lodged  in  the  house  of  a  poore  Host.  I 
hold  it  (quoth  I)  a  happy  thing  to  have  no  neede  to  send  for 
necessaries  to  the  Cittie  for  the  supply  of  good  manners — I 
meane  not  of  good  meate,  for  thereof,  sir,  me  seemes  heere 
wants  no  store.  It  lightlie  happeneth  not  (quoth  hee)  that  I 
send  to  y^  Cittie  for  any  thing  necessarie  or  fit  for  the  life  of 
a  poore  Gentleman,  for  (God  be  praised)  I  have  aboundaunce 
of  every  thing  ministred  unto  me  upon  myne  owne  ground, 
y*  which  I  have  devided  into  foure  parts  or  formes,  call  them 
what  you  will.  The  first  and  greatest  part  I  plow  and  sowe 
with  wheate  and  all  kind  of  graine.  The  seconde  part  I  leave 
for  Trees  and  plants,  which  are  also  necessarie  either  for  fire, 
the  use  of  Architecture,  and  other  instruments  of  household, 
as  also  in  those  places  that  are  sowne  are  manie  rewes  of 
Trees,  whereupon  the  Vines,  after  the  manner  of  our  /^//V 
Countries,  are  laid  and  fastened.  The  third  is  Medowe  ground, 
whereon  the  Heards  and  little  flocks  I  have  are  wont  to  graze. 
The  fourth  I  have  reserved  for  hearbes,  flowers,  and  rootes, 
where  also  are  some  store  of  hyves  for  Bees,  because  beyond 
this  Orchard,  wherein  you  see  that  I  have  gryft  so  many  fruit- 
full  Plants,  and  which  you  see  is  somewhat  separat  from  ray 
possessions,  there  is  an  other  Garden,  full  of  all  sorts  of  sallet 


PETER  TRE VERTS  57 

hearbes  and  other  rootes.  — '  The  Householder's  Philosophie, 
Hrst  written  in  Italian  by  that  excellent  orator  and  poet,  Signior 
Torquato  Tasso,  and  now  translated  by  T.  A'.'     London,  1588. 

\  A /HEREFORE  brotherly  love  compelleth  me  to  wryte  thrugh  PETER 

ys  gyftes  of  the  holy  gost,  shewynge  and  enformynge  how  TREVERIS 
man  may  be  holpen  to  grene  herbes  of  the  gardyn,  and  wedys  of 
ye  feldys  as  well  as  by  costly  receptes  of  the  potycarys  prepayred. 

The  grete  herball 
whiche  geveth  parfyt  knowledge,  and  understandyng  of  all  vianer 
-of  herbes  &^  theyre  gracyous  vertues  whiche  god  hath  ordeyned  for 
our  prosperous  welfare  a  fid  helth,  for  they  hele  atid  cure  all  manner 
of  dyseases  and  sekenesses  that  fall  or  mysfortune  to  all  ?nanner  of 
creatours  of  god  created,  practysed  by  many  expert  and  ivyse  maysters 
as  Avicenna  &  other  etc.  Also  it  geveth  full  parfyte  understandynge 
of  the  booke  lately  printed  by  me  {Peter  Treveris)  named  the  noble 
experiens  of  the  vertuoiis  hand  warke  of  surgery. — Imprinted  at 
London  in  Southwarke.     MDXXVI. 

— 'AAA^— 

Famous  Antiquary  to  Henry  VIII,  who  commhsiontd  him  to  search  after  JOHN 
England's  antiquities  and  peruse  the  libraries  of  cathedrals,  abbeys,  colleges  LELAND — 
and  other  places,  '  where  records  and  the  secrets  of  antiquity  were  deposited '  <"'  Layloiuie 
— travelled  through  England  and  Wales  for  six  or  seven  years  and  embodied  ^.'SO^'ISS^)- 
the  results  in  his  '  New  Wars  Gift '  to  the  King.     His  '  Itinerary  '  was  pttb- 
lished  by  Thomas  Hearne  in  nine  vols.,  at  Oxford  1710-12. 

'HpHE  Gardens  within  the   mote,   and  the  orchardes  without, 

^       were  exceeding  fair.     And  yn  the  orchardes  were  mounts, 

opere  topiario^  writhen  about  with  degrees  like  the  turnings  in 

^According  to  Mr  Hudson  Turner,  'mounts'  in  English  gardens  date 
from  the  period  of  the  connexion  of  England  with  Burgundy  in  the  isth 
century.  They  were  contrived  to  enable  persons  in  the  orchard  to  look 
over  the  enclosure  wall,  and  were  formed  of  stone,  or  wood  '  curiously 
wrought  within  and  without,  or  of  earth  covered  with  fruit  trees,'  as  Lawson, 
'  the  Isaac  Walton  of  gardeners,'  tells  us. 

The  topiary  art  {opus  topiarizim)  came  into  practice  in  this  country  at  tlie 
beginning  of  the  i6th  century, — Archivological  fournal.  Vol.  V. 


58 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


cokil  shelles,  to  come  to  the  top  without  payn.  —  ^  Itinerary,^ 
1540  A.D.     {Of  Wressel  Castle,  near  Howden,   Yorkshire.) 


ANDREAS 
CCESALPINUS 
OF  AREZZO 

(1519-1603). 


Casalpinus  called  by  Linncfus   '  Primus   Verus  Systematicus ' ;   author  of 
De  Plantis  Libri  XVI.'     Florence,  1583. 

I N  this  immense  multitude  of  plants,  I  see  that  want  which  is 
*■  most  felt  in  any  other  unordered  crowd  if  such  an  assemblage 
be  not  arranged  into  brigades  like  an  army,  all  must  be  tumult 
and  fluctuation :  for  the  mind  is  overwhelmed  by  the  confused 
accumulation  of  things,  and  thus  arise  endless  mistake  and  alterca- 
tion. .  .  .  For  many  years  I  have  been  pursuing  my  researches 
in  various  regions,  habitually  visiting  the  places  in  which  grew  the 
various  kinds  of  herbs,  shrubs  and  trees ;  I  have  been  assisted 
by  the  labours  of  many  friends,  and  by  gardens  established  for 
the  public  benefit/  and  containing  foreign  plants  collected  from 
the  most  remote  regions. —  WhewelFs  History  of  i/ie  Inductive 
Sciences. 

— JsWv- — 


OLIVIER 
DESERRES, 
SEIGNEUR 
DU  PRADEL 

(1539-1619). 


Agrotiome,  called  '  The  Father  of  Agriculture  ' — he  planted  white  mulberry 
trees  in  the  Tuileries  Gardens  under  Henry  IV.,  and  throughout  Fraiue,  and 
practically  re-introduced  its  silk  iiuiustry.  1 599,  published  '  Treatise  on  the 
Silk-worm,'  and  i6cx),  '  Theatre  d Agriculture.'  - 

I  regarded  the  residence  of  the  great  parent  of  French  agriculture  (at 
Pradel),  who  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  first  writers  on  the  subject  that  had 
then  appeared  in  the  world,  with  that  sort  of  veneration,  which  those  only  can 
feel  who  have  addicted  themselves  strongly  to  some  predominant  pursuit,  and 


^  One  of  the  first  gardens  directed  to  the  public  study  of  Botany  was  that  of 
Pisa,  in  1543,  by  order  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo  I.  :  of  this  Coesalpinus  was 
the  second  Director. 

^  For  Flemish  Garden-design  contemporary  with  De  Serres,  the  plates  in 
'  Hortorum  Vividariorumque  elegantes  Formae '  by  Jan  Vrederman  de  Vries, 
Antwerp,  1583,  4to,  are  worth  consulting. 


OLIVIER  DE  SERRES  59 

find  it  in  such  moments  indulged  in  its  most  exquisite  feelings.  Two  hundred 
years  after  his  exertions,  let  me  do  honour  to  his  memory  ;  he  was  an  excellent 
farmer  and  a  true  patriot,  and  would  not  have  been  fixed  on  by  Henry  IV.  as 
his  chief  agent  in  the  great  project  of  introducing  the  culture  of  silk  in  France, 
if  he  had  not  possessed  a  considerable  reputation  ;  a  reputation  well  earned 
since  posterity  has  confirmed  it.  The  period  of  his  practice  is  too  remote  to  gain 
any  thing  more  than  a  general  outline  of  what  may  now  be  supposed  to  have 
been  his  farm.  The  basis  of  it  is  limestone  ;  there  is  a  great  oak  wood  near 
the  Chateau,  and  many  vines,  with  plenty  of  mulberries,  some  apparently  old 
enough  to  have  been  planted  by  the  hand  of  the  venerable  genius  that  has 
rendered  the  ground  classic.  The  estate  of  Pradel  belongs  at  present  to  the 
Marquis  of  Mirabel,  who  inherits  it  in  right  of  his  wife,  as  the  descendant  of 
De  Serres.     Arthur  Young,  '  Travels  in  France,'  August  1789. 

/'^E  sont  les  Jardinages,  qui  fournissent  a  rornement  utile  de 
^-^  nostre  Mesnage,  innumerables  especes  de  racines,  d'herbes, 
de"  fleurs,  de  fruit  avec  beaucoup  de  merveille.  Aussi  merveilleux 
en  est  le  Createur,  donnant  a  I'homme  tant  de  sortes  de  viandes 
differentes  en  matiere,  figure,  capacite,  couleur,  saveur,  propriete, 
qu'impossible  est  de  les  pouvoir  toutes  discerner  ni  com- 
prendre  .  .  .  Le  Jardin  excelle  toute  autre  partie  de  terre 
labourable,  mesmes  en  cette  particuliere  propriete,  qu'il  rend 
du  fruit  chacun  an  et  a  toutes  heures  :  la  ou  en  quelque  autre 
endroit  que  ce  soit,  le  fonds  ne  rapporte  qu'une  seule  fois 
I'annee ;  ou  si  deux,  c'est  tant  rarement,  que  cela  ne  doit  estre 
mis  en  ligne  de  compte.  .  .  . 

A  I'imitation  de  telles  Nations,  des  plus  excellentes  du  monde 
toutes  sortes  de  gens  ont  honore  les  jardinages.  Empereurs  Rois, 
princes  et  autres  grands  seigneurs  ont  este  veus  travailler  a 
ordonner  de  leurs  propres  mains,  leurs  jardinages,  eslisans  telles 
peines  pour  soulagement  en  leurs  grandes  affaires.  Leurs  noms 
qu'ils  ont  engraves  en  plusieurs  herbes  et  fruicts,  pour  en 
perpetuer  la  memoire  monstrent  combien  agreables  leur  ont  este 
tels  exercises.  Nous  les  lisons  en  I'herbe  dicte  lysimachie,  du  roi 
Lysimachus :  en  la  gentiane,  du  Gentius,  roi  d'lllyrie :  en 
I'armoise,  d' Artemisia,  roine  de  Carie :  en  I'achilleia,  d' Achilles : 
en  I'eupatoire,  du  roi  Eupator :  en  scordium,  autrement  dicte 
I'herbe  mithridates,  de  Mithridates  roi  de  Pont  et  de  Bithinie,  et 
en  plusieurs  autres.  Dont  est  venu,  qu'aujourd'hui  les  jardinages 


6o  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

sont  en  autant  grand  credit  que  jamais  part  oute  I'Europe  mesme 
en  France,  Alemagne,  Angleterre,  Italic,  Espaigne,  sont-ils  cultive 
avec  beaucoup  d'art  et  de  diligence.  .  .  . 

Le  jardinage  se  distingue  en  quatre  especes,  assavoir,  en 
potager,  bouquetier,  raedecinal  fruictier.  Le  Potager  fournit 
toutes  sortes  de  racines,  herbes,  fruicts  rempans  sur  terre  destines 
h  la  cuisine,  et  autrement  bons  a  manger,  cruds  et  cuits.  Le 
bouquetier  est  compose  de  toutes  sortes  de  plantes,  herbes,  fleurs, 
arbustes,  ageances  par  compartiments  es  parterres,  et  esleves  en 
vou^eures  et  cabinets,  selon  Ics  inventions  et  fantasies  des  seigneurs, 
plus  pour  plaisir  que  pour  profit.  Pour  la  necessite  est  invente 
le  medecinal,  encores  que  plusieurs  herbes  tt  racines  pour  remede 
aux  maladies  se  cueillent  indifferemment  sur  toutes  sortes  de 
possessions.  .  .  .  Le  fruictier,  autrement  appelle',  verger,  est  celui 
qui  estant  complante  de  toutes  sortes  d'arbres,  rapporte  richement 
avec  grande  delectation,  des  fruicts  d'infinies  especes.  .  .  .  Tous 
lesquels  jardins,  contigus  et  mis  ensemble,  seront  enfermes  dans 
un  clos,  entr'eux  divises  par  allees  descouvertes  ou  couvertes  en 
treillages,  plats  ou  voutoyes,  ou  autrement,  ainsi  qu'on  les  voudra 
disposer.  .  .  .  Plus  grand  sera  le  seul  jardin  potager  que  les 
bouquetier  et  medicinal  ensemble,  estant  en  cet  endroit  plus 
requis  le  profit,  que  la  simple  delectation.  .  .  .  En  sa  figure  n'y  a 
aucune  subjection  car  toutes  sont  agreables,  pourveu  que  le 
jardin  soit  profitable :  voire  la  plus  bigearre  (bizarre)  est  la  plus 
souhaittable  pour  le  plaisir  comme  ceux  qui  estans  en  pente,  et 
retenus  par  bancs  et  murailles  traversantes,  sont  fort  prises,  ainsi 
qu'avec  beaucoup  de  lustre,  paroissent  les  jardins  du  roi  a  Sainct- 
Germain  en  Laie.  .  .  .  Le  bouquetier  se  taillera  aux  revenus  et 
plaisirs  du  seigneur,  car  puisqu'il  est  destine  pour  le  seul  con- 
tentement,  est  raisonnable  que  ce  soyent  ces  deux  la,  que  y 
plantent  les  limites.  .  .  . 

Et  a  ce  que  la  Jardinier  n'  aille  rechercher  loin  des  desseins 
pour  ses  Parterres,  j'ai  mis  ici  quelque  nombre  de  Compartiments 
de  diverses  fagons  d'entre  lesquels,  y  en  a  de  ceux  que  la  Roi  a 
fait  faire  a  Sainct-Germain  en  Laie  et  en  ses  nouveaux  Jardins 
des  Tuilleries,  et  de  Fontainebleau  au  dresser  desquels  M.  Claude 


OLIVIER  DE  SERRES  6i 

Mollet,  Jardinier  de  sa  Majeste,  a  fait  preuve  de  sa  dexterite.^ — 
Le  Theatre  d'Agriculhire.     1600. 

^  Claude  Mollet,  Head  Gardener  to  Henri  IV.  and  Louis  XHI, — predecessor 
of  Le  Notre  and  de  la  Quintinye — was  son  of  the  Chief  Gardener  of  Chateau 
d'Anet,  where  he  collected  rare  flowers  and  medical  herbs  and  enjoyed  the 
confidence  of  its  owner  the  Due  d'Aumale. 

Claude  Mollet  was  the  first,  in  1582,  in  France  to  create  the  'parterres  a 
compartiments  et  broderie,'  after  the  designs  of  the  Sieur  du  Perac,  architect 
to  the  King,  of  which  Olivier  de  Serres  gives  examples. 

In  1595,  he  laid  out  the  gardens  of  Saint  Germain-en-Laye,^  of  Monceaux  and 

of  Fontainebleau,  where  by  1607  he  had  planted  7000  feet  of  fruit  trees,  bearing 

fruit  existing  half  a  century  later.     In  the  Tuileries  he  made  fine  plantations 

-of  Cypresses,  destroyed    in   the  winter   of   1608,  when  the  hardier  box  and 

yew  were  substituted. 

His  work  'Theatre  des  Plans  et  Jardinages'  appeared  in  1652  at  Paris, 
with  twenty-two  plates  of  designs  of  parterres,  bosquets,  labyrinths  and 
palisades,  invented  by  himself  and  his  sons  Andre,  Jacques  and  Noel,  and 
was  several  times  re-printed  and  translated  at  Stockholm  and  London.  The 
translation  is  sometimes  attributed  to  his  son  Andre,  who  helped  him.  Mollet 
was  the  first  to  apply  meteorology,  which  he  calls  '  Astrology,'  to  gardening. 
Near  the  Hotel  de  Matignon,  where  Claude  Mollet  lived,  behind  St  Thomas 
of  the  Louvre,  he  had  raised  white  Mulberries,  producing  in  1606  12  lbs  of 
silk,  which  he  sold  at  4  crowns  (40  francs)  the  lb. 

^  See  Illustration  in  Appendix. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ELIZABETHAN    AND    STUART    GARDENS 

TOHN  Educated  as  a  surgeon — superintended  Lord  Burghleys  garden  for  twenty 

GERARDE  years — lived  in  Holhorn,  where  he  had  a  large  physic  garden — iti  his  youth 
(1545-1607).  took  a  voyage  to  the  Baltic — he  drew  up  letter  for  Lord  Burleigh  to  University 
of  Cambridge,  recommending  that  a  physic  garden  be  established  there,  with 
himself  at  its  head,  to  encourage  '  the  facultie  of  simpling. '  1 596,  published 
catalogue  of  his  garden  in  Holborn,  and  in  1597,  his  ^Herbal,'  the  woodcuts 
from  Frankfurt,  having  served  for  the  '  Kreuterbuch '  of  Tabemamontanus 
{folio,  1588).! 

A  MONG  the  manifold  creatures  of  God  (right  Honorable  and 
■'*•  my  singular  good  Lord)  that  have  in  all  ages  diversly  enter- 
tained many  excellent  wits,  and  drawen  them  to  the  contemplation 
of  the  divine  wisedome,  none  hath  provoked  mens  studies  more, 
or  satisfied  their  desires  so  much,  as  plants  have  done,  and  that 
upon  just  and  woorthie  causes :  For  if  delight  may  provoke  mens 
labour,  what  greater  delight  is  there  than  to  behold  the  earth 
apparelled  with  plants,  as  with  a  robe  of  imbroidered  worke,  set 
with  orient  pearles,  and  garnished  with  great  diversitie  of  rare 
and  costlie  jewels?  If  this  varietie  and  perfection  of  colours  may 
affect  the  eie,  it  is  such  in  herbes  and  flowers,  that  no  Apelles,  no 
Zeuxis  ever  could  by  any  art  expresse  the  like :  if  odours,  or  if 
taste  may  worke  satisfaction,  they  are  both  so  soveraigne  in  plants, 
and  so  comfortable,  that  no  confection  of  the  Apothecaries  can 
equall  their  excellent  vertue.  But  these  delights  are  in  the  outward 
senses  :  the  principal  delight  is  in  the  minde,  singularly  enriched 
with  the  knowledge  of  these  visible  things,  setting  foorth  to  us 
the  invisible  wisedome  and  admirable  workmanship  of  almightie 
God.     The  dehght  is  great,  but  the  use  greater,  and  joyned  often 

^  See  Illustration  in  Appendix. 
63 


JOHN  GERARDE  63 

with  necessitie.  In  the  first  ages  of  the  world  they  were  the 
ordinarie  meate  of  men,  and  have  continued  ever  since  of  neces- 
sarie  use  both  for  meates  to  maintaine  Hfe,  and  for  medicine  to 
recover  health.  The  hidden  vertue  of  them  is  such,  that  (as 
Plinie  noteth)^  the  very  brute  beasts  have  found  it  out :  and 
(which  is  another  use  that  he  observeth)  from  thence  the  Diars 
took  the  beginning  of  their  art. 

Furthermore,  the  necessarie  use  of  these  fruits  of  the  Earth 
doth  plainly  appeere  by  the  great  charge  and  care  of  almost  all 
men  in  planting  and  maintaining  of  gardens,  not  as  ornaments 
onely,  but  as  a  necessarie  provision  also  to  their  houses.  And 
here  beside  the  fruit,  to  speake  againe  in  a  word  of  delight; 
gardens,  especially  such  as  your  Honor  hath,  furnished  with 
many  rare  simples,  do  singularly  delight,  when  in  them  a  man 
doth  behold  a  flourishing  shew  of  sommer  beauties  in  the  middest 
of  winters  force,  and  a  goodly  spring  of  Flowers,  when  abroade  a 
leafe  is  not  to  be  scene. 

Beside  these  and  other  causes,  there  are  many  examples  of 
those  that  have  honored  this  science  :  for  to  passe  by  a  multitude 
of  the  philosophers,  it  may  please  your  Honor  to  call  to  remem- 
brance that  which  you  knowe  of  some  noble  Princes  that  have 
joyned  this  studie  with  their  most  important  matters  of  state  : 
Mithridates  the  great  was  famous  for  his  knowledge  herein,  as 
Plutarch  noteth  :  Euan  also  king  of  Arabia,  the  happie  garden  of 
the  world  for  principall  simples,  wrote  of  this  argument,  as  Plinie 
sheweth  :  Diocletian  might  he  have  his  praise,  had  he  not  drowned 
all  his  honor  in  the  blood  of  his  persecution.  To  conclude  this 
point,  the  example  of  Salomon  is  before  the  rest  and  greater, 
whose  wisedome  and  knowledge  was  such,  that  he  was  able  to 
set  out  the  nature  of  all  plantes,  from  the  highest  Cedar  to  the 
lowest  Mosse. —  The  Herball,  or  Generall  Historie  of  Plantes, 
gathered  by  John  Gerarde  of  Londoti,  Master  in  Chirurgie. 
1597.  {Dedication  to  Sir  William  Cecill  Knight,  Baro7i  of 
Bitrgleih.) 

^  Pliny,  lib.  8,  cap.  27  ;  and  lib.  22,  cap.  2. 


64  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

I  list  not  seeke  the  common  colours  of  antiquitie ;  when  not 
withstanding  the  world  can  brag  of  no  more  ancient  monument 
than  Paradise,  and  the  garden  of  Eden :  and  the  fruits  of  the 
Earth  may  contend  for  seignioritie,  seeing  their  mother  was  the 
first  creature  that  conceived,  and  they  themselves  the  first  fruit 
she  brought  foorth.  Talke  of  perfect  happinesse  or  pleasure,  and 
what  place  was  so  fit  for  that,  as  the  garden  place,  wherein  Adam 
was  set,  to  be  the  Herbarist?  Whither  did  the  poets  hunt  for 
their  syncere  delights,  but  into  the  gardens  of  Alcinous,  of  Adoftis, 
and  the  orchards  of  Hesperides  ?  Where  did  they  dreame  that 
heaven  should  be,  but  in  the  pleasant  garden  of  Elysium  ? 
Whither  do  all  men  walke  for  their  honest  recreation  but  thither, 
where  the  Earth  hath  most  beneficially  painted  her  face  with 
flourishing  colours  ?  And  what  season  of  the  yeere  more  longed 
for  than  the  Spring,  whose  gentle  breath  inticeth  foorth  the  kindly 
sweetes,  and  makes  them  yeeld  their  fragrant  smells  ? — I/nd.  Pre- 
face '  to  the  courteous  and  well-willing  Readers' 

JOHN  LYLY— /^NE  of  the  Ladies  who  delighted  much  in  mirth,  seeing 
'' the Enphnist"  v^  Philautus  behold  Camilla  so  stedfastly,  saide  unto  him: 
^'^^"^'^      '■  Gentleman,  what  floure  like  you  best  in  all  this  border,  heere 

be  faire  Roses,  sweete  Violets,  fragrant  primroses,  heere  wil  be 
Jilly-floures,  Carnations,  sops  in  wine,  sweet  Johns,  and  what 
may  either  please  you  for  sight,  or  delight  you  with  savour :  loth 
we  are  you  should  have  a  Posie  of  all,  yet  willing  to  give  you 
one,  not  yat  which  shal  looke  best,  but  such  a  one  as  you  shal 
lyke  best. 

Philautus  omitting  no  opportunitie,  yat  might  either  manifest 
his  affection,  or  commend  his  wit,  answered  hir  thus  : 

Lady,  of  so  many  sweet  floures  to  chuse  the  best,  it  is  harde, 
seeing  they  be  all  so  good.  If  I  shoulde  preferre  the  fairest  before 
the  sweetest,  you  would  happely  imagine  that  either  I  were  stopped 
in  the  nose,  or  wanton  in  the  eyes ;  if  the  sweetnesse  before  the 
beautie,  then  would  you  gesse  me  either  to  lyve  with  sauours,  or 


SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY  65 

to  have  no  judgement  in  colours ;  but  to  tell  my  minde  (upon 
correction  be  it  spoken),  of  all  flowers,  I  love  a  faire  woman. 

In  deede,  quoth  Flavia  (for  so  was  she  named),  faire  women 
are  set  thicke,  but  they  come  up  thinne ;  and  when  they  begin 
to  budde,  they  are  gathered  as  though  they  wer  blowne.  Of  such 
men  as  you  are,  Gentleman,  who  thinke  greene  grasse  will  never 
be  drye  Hay,  but  when  ye  flower  of  their  youth  (being  slipped  too 
young)  shall  fade  before  they  be  olde,  then  I  dare  saye,  you  would 
chaunge  your  faire  flower  for  a  weede,  and  the  woman  you  loved 
then,  for  the  worst  violet  you  refuse  now. 

Lady,  aunswered  Philautus,  it  is  a  signe  that  beautie  was  no 
niggard  of  hir  slippes  in  this  gardein,  and  very  enuious  to  other 
grounds,  seing  heere  are  so  many  in  one  Plot,  as  I  shall  neuer 
finde  more  in  all  Italy,  whether  the  reason  be  the  heate  which 
killeth  them,  or  the  country  that  cannot  beare  them.  As  for 
plucking  them  up  soone,  in  yat  we  shew  the  desire  we  have  to 
them,  not  the  malyce.  Where  you  conjecture  that  men  haue  no 
respect  to  things  when  they  be  olde,  I  cannot  consent  to  your 
saying;  for  well  do  they  know  that  it  fareth  with  women  as  it 
doth  with  the  Mulbery  tree,  which  the  elder  it  is,  the  younger 
it  seemeth ;  and  therefore  hath  it  growen  to  a  Prouerb  in  Italy, 
where  one  seeth  a  woman  striken  in  age  to  looke  amiable,  he 
saith  she  hath  eaten  a  Snake  :  so  that  I  must  of  force  follow  mine 
olde  opinion,  that  I  love  fresh  flowers  well,  but  faire  women  better. 
— '  Euphues  and  his  E?igland.^ 

— ^WW— 

D  UT  Palladius  having  gotten  his  health,  and  only  staying  there  SIR 
^     to  be  in  place,  where  he  might  hear  answer  of  the  ships  set  ^^^J-^ 
forth:  Kalander  one  afternoon  let  him  abroad  to  a  well-arrayed  (1554-1586). 
ground  he  had  behind  his  house,  which  he  thought  to  show  him 
before  his  going,  as  the  place  himself  more  than  in  any  other, 
delighted  in.      The  backside   of  the   house  was    neither  field, 
garden,  nor  orchard ;  or,  rather,  it  was  both  field,  garden,  and 
orchard  :  for  as  soon  as  the  descending  of  the  stairs  had  delivered 

E 


66  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

them  down,  they  came  into  a  place  cunningly  set  with  trees  of  the 
most  taste-pleasing  fruits ;  but  scarcely  they  had  taken  that  into 
their  consideration,  but  that  they  were  suddenly  stept  into  a 
delicate  Green ;  of  each  side  of  the  Green  a  Thicket,  and  behind 
the  Thickets  again  new  Beds  of  Flowers,  which  being  under  the 
Trees,  the  Trees  were  to  them  a  Pavilion,  and  they  to  the  Trees 
a  Mosaical  floor ;  so  that  it  seemed  that  Art  therein  would  needs 
be  delightful,  by  counterfeiting  his  enemy  Error,  and  making  order 
in  confusion. 

In  the  midst  of  all  the  place  was  a  fair  Pond,  whose  shaking 
Crystal  was  a  perfect  Mirror  to  all  the  other  beauties,  so  that  it 
bare  shew  of  two  Gardens ;  one  indeed,  the  other  in  shadows ; 
and  in  one  of  the  Thickets  was  a  fine  Fountain  made  thus :  a 
naked  Venus  of  white  Marble,  wherein  the  Graver  had  used  such 
cunning,  that  the  natural  blue  veins  of  the  Marble  were  framed  in 
fit  places,  to  set  forth  the  beautiful  veins  of  her  body.  At  her 
breast  she  had  her  Babe  ^neas,  who  seemed  (having  begun  to 
suck)  to  leave  that,  to  look  upon  her  fair  Eyes,  which  smiled  at 
the  Babe's  folly,  meanwhile  the  breast  running.  Hard  by  was 
a  house  of  Pleasure,  built  for  a  Summer  retiring-place ;  whither 
Kalander  leading  him,  he  found  a  square  room  full  of  delightful 
Pictures,  made  by  the  most  excellent  Workmen  of  Greece. 


So  Gy?iecia  herself,  bringing  me  to  my  Lodging,  anon  after  I 
was  invited  and  brought  down  to  sup  with  them  in  the  Garden,  a 
place  not  fairer  in  natural  ornaments  than  artificial  inventions ; 
where,  in  a  Banquetting  house,  among  certain  pleasant  Trees, 
whose  heads  seemed  curled  with  the  wrappings  about  of  Vine- 
branches,  the  Table  was  set  near  to  an  excellent  Water-work  ; 
for,  by  the  Casting  of  the  Water  in  most  cunning  manner,  it 
makes  (with  the  shining  of  the  Sun  upon  it)  a  perfect  Rain-bow, 
not  more  pleasant  to  the  Eye  than  to  the  Minde,  so  sensible  to 
see  the  proof  of  the  Heavenly  Iris.  There  were  Birds  also  made 
so  finely,  that  they  did  not  only  deceive  the  sight  with  their  figure, 
but  the  hearing  with  their  Songs,  which  the  watry  Instruments  did 


FRANCIS  BACON  (.-j 

make  their  Gorge  deliver.  The  Table  at  which  we  sate  was  round, 
which  being  fast  to  the  Floor  whereon  we  sate,  and  that  divided 
from  the  rest  of  the  Buildings,  with  turning  a  Vice  (which  Basilius 
at  first  did  to  make  me  sport),  the  Table,  and  we  about  the  Table, 
did  all  turn  round,  by  means  of  Water  which  ran  under,  and  carried 
it  about  as  a  mill. — '  The  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Arcadia^  Book  I. 

—'H\f\rt— 

r^  OD  Almighty  first  planted  a  Garden ;  and  indeed  it  is  the  FRANCIS 
^-^     purest  of  humane  pleasure.     It  is  the  greatest  refreshment  BACON— 
to  the  Spirits   of  Man,   without  which    Buildings   and    Palaces  (1561-1626). 
are  but  gross  Handy-works.     And  a   Man  shall  ever  see,  that 
when  Ages  grow  to  Civility  and  Elegancy,  Men  come  to  build 
stately,  sooner  than  to  garden  finely  :  as  if  Gardening  were  the 
Greater   Perfection.       I   do   hold  it  in   the   Royal   Ordering   of 
Gardens,  there  ought  to  be  Gardens  for  all  the  Months  in  the 
Year,  in  which,  severally,  things  of  Beauty  may  be  then  in  season. 

For  December  and  January,  and  the  latter  part  of  November, 
you  must  take  such  things  as  are  green  all  Winter :  Holly,  Ivy, 
Bays,  Juniper,  Cypress-Trees,  Yews,  Pine-Apple  Trees,  Fir-Trees, 
Rosemary,  Lavender,  Periwinckle,  the  White,  the  Purple,  and 
the  Blue,  Germander,  Flags,  Orange-Trees,  Limon-Trees,  and 
Myrtles,  if  they  be  stirred,  and  Sweet  Marjoram  warm  set. 

There  followeth,  for  the  latter  part  of  January  and  February, 
the  Mezerion  Tree,  which  then  blossoms.  Crocus  Vernus,  both 
the  Yellow  and  the  Grey,  Prim-Roses,  Anemones,  the  Early 
Tulippa,  Hiacynthus  Orientalis,  Chamairis,  Frettellaria. 

For  March,  there  come  Violets,  specially  the  Single  Blue, 
which  are  the  Earliest,  the  yellow  Dafifadil,  the  Daisy,  the 
Almond-Tree  in  blossom,  the  Peach-Tree  in  blossom,  the 
Cornelian-Tree  in  blossom.  Sweet  Briar. 

In  April  follow  the  double  White  Violet,  the  Wall-Flower,  the 
Stock-Gilly-Flower,  the  Cowslip,  Flower-de-Lices,  and  Lilies  of 
all  natures,  Rosemary-Flowers,  the  Tulippa,  the  Double  Piony, 
the  pale   Daffadill,  the  French  Honey-Suckle,  the  Cherry-Tree 


68  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

in   blossom,   the    Dammasin   and   Plum-Trees   in    blossom,   the 
White  Thorn  in  leaf,  the  Lelack  Tree. 

In  May  and  June,  come  Pinks  of  all  .Sorts,  specially  the 
Blush- Pink,  Roses  of  all  kinds  (except  the  Musk,  which  comes 
later),  Honey-Suckles,  Strawberries,  Bugloss,  Columbine,  the 
French  Marygold,  Flos  Africanus,  Cherry-Tree  in  fruit,  Ribes, 
Figs  in  fruit,  Rasps,  Vine-Flowers,  Lavender  in  Flowers,  the 
Sweet  Satyrion  with  the  White  Flower,  Herba  Muscaria,  Lillium 
Convallium,  the  Apple-Tree  in  blossom. 

In  July  come  Gilly-Flowers  of  all  Varieties,  Musk-Roses,  and 
the  Lime-Tree  in  blossom,  Early  Pears  and  Plumbs  in  fruit, 
Ginnitings,  Quodlings. 

In  August,  come  Plumbs  of  all  sorts  in  Fruit,  Pears,  Apricocks, 
Barberries,  Filberds,  Musk-Melons,  Monkshoods  of  all  Colours. 

In  September  come  Grapes,  Apples,  Poppies  of  all  Colours, 
Peaches,  Melo-Cotones,  Nectarines,  Cornellians,  Wardens,  Quinces. 
In  October  and  the  beginning  of  November  come  Servises, 
Medlars,  Bullaces ;  Roses  Cut  or  Removed  to  come  late.  Holly- 
oaks,  and  such  like. 

These  particulars  are  for  the  climate  of  London  :  But  my 
meaning  is  perceived,  that  you  may  have  Ver  Ferpetuum,  as 
the  place  affords. 

And  because  the  Breath  of  Flowers  is  far  Sweeter  in  the  Air 
(where  it  comes  and  goes,  like  the  Warbling  of  Musick)  than 
in  the  Hand,  therefore  nothing  is  more  fit  for  that  Delight,  than 
to  know  what  be  the  Flowers  and  Plants  that  do  best  perfume 
the  Air.  Roses,  Damask  and  Red,  are  fast  Flowers  of  their 
Smells,  so  that  you  may  walk  by  a  whole  Row  of  them,  and 
find  nothing  of  their  Sweetness ;  yea,  though  it  be  in  a  morn- 
ing Dew.  Bays  likewise  yield  no  Smell  as  they  grow,  Rose- 
mary little,  nor  Sweet-Marjoram.  That,  which  above  all  others, 
yields  the  sweetest  smell  in  the  Air,  is  the  Violet,  specially  the 
White  double  Violet,  which  comes  twice  a  year,  about  the  middle 
of  April,  and  about  Bartholomew-tide.  Next  to  that  is  the  Musk 
Rose,  then  the  Strawberry  Leaves  dying  with  a  most  excellent 
Cordial  Smell.     Then  the  Flower  of  the  Vines;   it  is  a  little 


FRANCIS  BACON  69 

Dust,  like  the  Dust  of  a  Bent,  which  grows  upon  the  Cluster 
in  the  first  coming  forth.  Then  Sweet-Briar,  then  Wall-Flowers, 
which  are  very  delightful  to  be  set  under  a  Parlour,  or  lower 
Chamber  Window.  Then  Pinks,  especially  the  Matted  Pink, 
and  Clove  Gilly-Flower.  Then  the  Flowers  of  the  Lime-Tree. 
Then  the  Honey-Suckles,  so  they  be  somewhat  afar  off.  Of 
Bean-Flowers  I  speak  not,  because  they  are  Field-Flowers.  But 
those  which  perfume  the  Air  most  delightfully,  not  passed  by 
as  the  rest,  but  being  Trodden  upon  and  Crushed,  are  three  : 
that  is  Burnet,  Wild-Time,  and  Water-Mints.  Therefore  you 
are  to  set  whole  Alleys  of  them,  to  have  the  Pleasure  when 
you  walk  or  tread. 

For  Gardens  (speaking  of  those  which  are  indeed  Prince-like, 
as  we  have  done  of  Buildings),  the  Contents  ought  not  well  to 
be  under  thirty  Acres  of  Ground,  and  to  be  divided  into  three 
parts ;  a  Green  in  the  entrance,  a  Heath  or  Desart  in  the  going 
forth,  and  the  Garden  in  the  midst,  besides  Alleys  on  both  sides. 
And  I  like  well,  that  four  Acres  of  Ground  be  assigned  to  the 
Green,  six  to  the  Heath,  four  and  four  to  either  Side,  and  twelve 
to  the  Main  Garden.  The  Green  hath  two  pleasures  ;  the  one 
because  nothing  is  more  pleasant  to  the  Eye  than  Green  Grass 
kept  finely  shorn ;  the  other  because  it  will  give  you  a  fair  Alley 
in  the  raidst,  by  which  you  may  go  in  front  upon  a  Stately  Hedge, 
which  is  to  enclose  the  Garden.  But  because  the  Alley  will  be 
long,  and  in  great  Heat  of  the  Year  or  Day,  you  ought  not  to 
buy  the  shade  in  the  Garden,  by  going  in  the  Sun  through  the 
Green;  therefore  you  are,  of  either  Side  the  Green,  to  plant  a 
Covert  Alley  upon  Carpenter's  Work,  about  twelve  foot  in  Height, 
by  which  you  may  go  in  shade  into  the  Garden.  As  for  the 
making  of  Knots  or  Figures,  with  Divers  Coloured  Earths,  that 
they  may  lie  under  the  Windows  of  the  House,  on  that  Side 
which  the  Garden  stands,  they  be  but  Toys,  you  may  see  as 
good  sights  many  times  in  Tarts.  The  Garden  is  best  to  be 
Square,  Encompassed  on  all  the  four  Sides,  with  a  Stately  Arched 
Hedge :  the  Arches  to  be  upon  Pillars  of  Carpenter's  Work,  of 
some  ten  foot  high,  and  six  foot  broad,  and  the  Spaces  between 


70  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

of  the  same  Dimension  with  the  Breadth  of  the  Arch.  Over 
the  Arches  let  there  be  an  Entire  Hedge,  of  some  four  foot 
high,  framed  also  upon  Carpenter's  Work,  and  upon  the  Upper 
Hedge,  over  every  Arch,  a  little  Turret  with  a  Belly,  enough 
to  receive  a  Cage  of  Birds  ;  and  over  every  Space  between  the 
Arches  some  other  little  Figure,  with  broad  Plates  of  Round 
Coloured  Glass,  gilt,  for  the  Sun  to  play  upon.  But  this 
Hedge,  I  intend  to  be  raised  upon  a  Bank,  not  steep,  but 
gently  slope,  of  some  six  foot,  set  all  with  Flowers.  Also  I 
understand,  that  this  Square  of  the  Garden  should  not  be  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  Ground,  but  to  leave  on  either  side  Ground 
enough  for  diversity  of  Side  Alleys  unto  which  the  two  Covert 
Alleys  of  the  Green  may  deliver  you,  but  there  must  be  no 
Alleys  with  Hedges  at  either  End  of  this  Great  Inclosure  :  not 
at  the  Hither  End,  for  letting  your  Prospect  upon  this  fair 
Hedge  from  the  Green;  nor  at  the  Further  End  for  letting 
your  Prospect  from  the  Hedge  through  the  Arches  upon  the 
Heath. 

For  the  ordering  of  the  Ground  within  the  Great  Hedge,  I 
leave  it  to  Variety  of  Device.  Advising  nevertheless,  that  what- 
soever form  you  cast  it  into ;  first  it  be  not  too  busie,  or  full  of 
Work ;  wherein  I,  for  my  part,  do  not  like  Images  cut  out  in 
Juniper,  or  other  Garden-stuff;  they  are  for  Children.  Little 
low  Hedges,  round  like  Welts,  with  some  pretty  Pyramids,  I 
like  well ;  and  in  some  places,  Fair  Columns  upon  Frames  of 
Carpenter's  Work,  I  would  also  have  the  Alleys  spacious  and 
fair.  You  may  have  closer  Alleys  upon  the  Side  Grounds,  but 
none  in  the  Main  Garden. 

I  wish  also  in  the  very  middle  a  fair  Mount,  with  three  Ascents 
and  Alleys,  enough  for  four  to  walk  abreast,  which  I  would  have 
to  be  perfect  Circles,  without  any  Bulwarks  or  Imbossments,  and 
the  whole  Mount  to  be  thirty  foot  high,  and  some  fine  Banquetting 
House,  with  some  Chimneys  neatly  cast,  and  without  too  much 
Glass. 

For  Fountains,  they  are  a  Great  Beauty  and  Refreshment,  but 
Pools  mar  all,  and  make  the  Garden  unwholesome,  and  full  of 


FRANCIS  BACON  71 

Flies  and  Frogs.  Fountains  I  intend  to  be  of  two  Natures  :  the 
one  that  sprinkleth  or  spouteth  Water,  the  other  a  fair  Receipt  of 
Water,  of  some  thirty  or  forty  foot  square,  but  without  Fish,  or 
SHme,  or  Mud.  For  the  first,  the  Ornaments  of  Images  Gilt,  or 
of  Marble,  which  are  in  use,  do  well ;  but  the  main  matter  is,  so 
to  convey  the  Water,  as  it  never  stay,  either  in  the  Bowls,  or  in 
the  Cistern,  that  the  Water  be  never  by  rest  discoloured,  Green, 
or  Red,  or  the  like ;  or  gather  any  Mossiness  or  Putrefaction. 
Besides  that,  it  is  to  be  cleansed  every  day  by  the  hand  •  also 
some  steps  up  to  it,  and  some  Fine  Pavement  about  it,  doth  well. 
As  for  the  other  kind  of  Fountain,  which  we  may  call  a  Bathing 
Pool,  it  may  admit  much  Curiosity  and  Beauty,  wherewith  we  will 
not  trouble  ourselves,  as,  that  the  Bottom  be  finely  paved,  and 
with  Images,  the  Sides  likewise ;  and  withal  Embellished  with 
coloured  Glass,  and  such  things  of  Lustre ;  Encompassed  also 
with  fine  Rails  of  low  Statua's.  But  the  main  point  is  the  same, 
which  we  mentioned  in  the  former  kind  of  Fountain,  which  is, 
that  the  Water  be  in  perpetual  Motion,  fed  by  a  Water  higher 
than  the  Pool,  and  delivered  into  it  by  fair  Spouts,  and  then 
discharged  away  under  Ground  by  some  Equality  of  Bores,  that 
it  stay  little.  And  for  fine  Devices,  of  Arching  Water  with- 
out spilling,  and  making  it  rise  in  Several  forms  (of  Feathers, 
Drinking  Glasses,  Canopies,  and  the  like)  they  be  pretty  things 
to  look  on,  but  nothing  to  Health  and  Sweetness. 

For  the  Heath,  which  was  the  third  part  of  our  Plot,  I  wish  it 
to  be  framed,  as  much  as  may  be,  to  a  Natural  Wildness.  Trees 
I  would  have  none  in  it,  but  some  Thickets,  made  only  of  Sweet- 
Briar  and  Honey-suckle,  and  some  Wild-Vine  amongst ;  and  the 
Ground  set  with  Violets,  Strawberries  and  Primroses  :  for  these 
are  Sweet,  and  prosper  in  the  Shade.  And  these  to  be  in  the 
Heath,  here  and  there,  not  in  any  Order.  I  like  also  little 
Heaps,  in  the  Nature  of  Mole-Hills  (such  as  are  in  W|fid-Heaths) 
to  be  set,  some  with  Wild-Thyme,  some  with  Pinks,  some  with 
Germander,  that  gives  a  good  Flower  to  the  Eye ;  some  with 
Periwinkle,  some  wilh  Violets,  some  with  Strawberries,  some  with 
Cowslips,  some  with  Daisies,  some  with  Red-Roses,  some  with 


/  ^ 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


Lilium  Convallium,  some  with  Sweet-Williams  Red,  some  with 
Bear's-Foot,  and  the  like  Low  Flowers,  being  withall  Sweet  and 
Sightly.  Part  of  which  Heaps,  to  be  with  Standards,  of  little 
Bushes  prickt  upon  their  top,  and  part  without ;  the  Standards 
to  be  Roses,  Juniper,  Holly,  Bear-berries,  (but  here  and  there, 
because  of  the  smell  of  their  blossom),  Red  Currans,  Goose- 
berries, Rosemary,  Bays,  Sweet-Briar,  and  such  like.  But 
these  Standards  to  be  kept  with  Cutting,  that  they  grow  not 
out  of  course. 

For  the  Side  Grounds,  you  are  to  fill  them  with  variety  of 
Alleys,  private,  to  give  a  full  shade,  some  of  them,  wheresoever 
the  Sun  be.  You  are  to  frame  some  of  them,  likewise  for  shelter, 
that  when  the  wind  blows  sharp,  you  may  walk  as  in  a  Gallery, 
And  those  Alleys  must  be  likewise  hedged  at  both  Ends,  to  keep 
out  the  Wind,  and  these  closer  Alleys  must  be  ever  finely 
Gravelled,  and  no  grass,  because  of  going  wet.  In  many  of 
these  Alleys  likewise,  you  are  to  set  Fruit  Trees  of  all  sorts ;  as 
well  upon  the  Walls,  as  in  Ranges.  And  this  would  be  generally 
observed,  that  the  Borders  wherein  you  plant  your  Fruit-Trees 
be  fair  and  large,  and  low,  and  not  steep,  and  set  with  fine 
Flowers,  but  thin  and  sparingly,  lest  they  deceive  the  trees. 
At  the  end  of  both  the  side  Grounds,  I  would  have  a  Mount 
of  some  pretty  Height,  leaving  the  Wall  of  the  Enclosure  breast- 
high,  to  look  abroad  into  the  Fields. 

For  the  Main  Garden,  I  do  not  deny,  but  there  should  be  some 
fair  Alleys  ranged  on  both  sides  with  Fruit-Trees,  and  some  pretty 
Tufts  of  Fruit-Trees  and  Arbors  with  Seats,  set  in  some  decent 
Order ;  but  these  to  be  by  no  means  set  too  thick ;  but  to  leave 
the  Main  Garden,  so  as  it  be  not  close,  but  the  Air  open  and  free  ; 
for  as  for  Shade  I  would  have  you  rest  upon  the  Alleys  of  the 
Side  Grounds,  there  to  walk,  if  you  be  disposed,  in  the  Heat  of 
the  Year  or  Day :  but  to  make  account,  that  the  Main  Garden  is 
for  the  more  temperate  parts  of  the  year,  and  in  the  Heat  of 
Summer,  for  the  Morning  and  the  Evening,  or  Over-cast 
days. 

For  Aviaries,  I  like  them  not,  except  they  be  of  that  largeness, 


PAUL  HENTZNER  T^ 

as  they  may  be  turfed,  and  have  Living  Plants  and  Bushes  set  in 
them,  that  the  Birds  may  have  more  scope,  and  natural  Nestling, 
and  that  no  foulness  appear  in  the  floor  of  the  Aviary.  So  I  have 
made  a  Plat-form  of  a  Princely  Garden,  partly  by  Precept,  partly 
by  Drawing,  not  a  Model,  but  some  general  Lines  of  it,  and  in 
this  I  have  spared  for  no  Cost. 

But  it  is  nothing  for  Great  Princes,  that  for  the  most  part  taking 
advice  with  Work-men,  with  no  less  Cost,  set  their  things  together, 
and  sometimes  add  Statua's  and  such  things,  for  State  and 
Magnificence,  but  nothing  to  the  true  pleasure  of  a  Garden. — 
Essays :  '  Of  Gardens.^ 

Jurisconsult  and   Traveller:   author  of  ^  liinerarium   Germania,    Gallitz,  PAUL 
Italia:;  Nuremberg,  1612.  HENTZNER 

npHE  first  was  Theobalds,  belonging  to   Lord  Burleigh  the     "^        ""^ " 

*  Treasurer :  In  the  gallery  was  painted  the  genealogy  of 
the  Kings  of  England ;  from  this  place  one  goes  into  the 
garden,  encompassed  with  a  ditch  full  of  water,  large  enough 
for  one  to  have  the  pleasure  of  going  in  a  boat,  and  rowing 
between  the  shrubs ;  here  are  great  variety  of  trees  and  plants ; 
labyrinths  made  with  a  great  deal  of  labour;  a  jet  d'eau,  with 
its  bason  of  white  marble ;  and  columns  and  pyramids  of  wood 
and  other  materials  up  and  down  the  garden :  After  seeing 
these,  we  were  led  by  the  gardiner  into  the  summer-house, 
in  the  lower  part  of  which,  built  serai-circularly,  are  the  twelve 
Roman  emperors  in  white  marble,  and  a  table  of  touchstone ; 
the  upper  part  of  it  is  set  round  with  cisterns  of  lead,  into  which 
the  water  is  conveyed  through  pipes,  so  that  fish  may  be 
kept  in  them,  and  in  summer  time  they  are  very  convenient 
for  bathing  \  in  another  room  for  entertainment  very  near  this, 
and  joined  to  it  by  a  little  bridge,  was  an  oval  table  of  red 
marble. 

Whitehall. 

In  a  garden  joining  to  this  palace,  there  is  a  Jet  d'eau,  with 


74  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

a  sun-dial,  which  while  strangers  are  looking  at,  a  quantity  of 
water  forced  by  a  wheel,  which  the  gardiner  turns  at  a  distance, 
through  a  number  of  little  pipes,  plentifully  sprinkles  those 
that  are  standing  round. 

Oxford. 

As  soon  as  Grace  is  said  after  each  meal,  every  one  is  at 
liberty,  either  to  retire  to  his  own  chambers,  or  to  walk  in 
the  College  garden,  there  being  none  that  has  not  a  delight- 
ful one. 

Hampton  Court.^ 

Afterwards  we  were  led  into  the  gardens,  which  are  most 
pleasant,  here  we  saw  rosemary  so  planted  and  nailed  to  the 
walls  as  to  cover  them  entirely,  which  is  a  method  exceeding 
common  in  England. 

Nonesuch  (a  Royal  Retreat  in  a  place  formerly  called 
CuDDiNGTON,  a  very  healthful  situation  chosen  by  King 
Henry  VIH.). 

The  palace  itself  is  so  encompassed  with  parks  full  of  deer, 
delicious  gardens,  groves  ornamented  with  trellis-work,  cabinets 
of  verdure,  and  walks  so  embrowned  by  trees,  that  it  seems 
to  be  a  place  pitched  upon  by  Pleasure  herself,  to  dwell  in 
along  with  Health. 

In  the  pleasure  and  artificial  gardens  are  many  columns  and 
pyramids  of  marble,  two  fountains  that  spout  water  one  round 
the  other  like  a  pyramid,  upon  which  are  perched  small  birds 
that  stream  water  out  of  their  bills :  In  the  grove  of  Diana 
is  a  very  agreeable  fountain,  with  Actseon  turned  into  a  stag, 
as  he  was  sprinkled  by  the  goddess  and  her  nymphs,  with 
inscriptions. 

There  is  besides  another  pyramid  of  marble  full  of  concealed 

'  .See  Illustration  in  Appendix. 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON  ys 

pipes,   which   spirt   upon   all    who   come   within   their   reach. — 
A  Journey  into  England  in  the  year  1598.^ 

p  OSAMOND'S  Labyrinth,  whose  Ruins,  together  with  her  Well,  MICHAEL 
^^  being  paved  with  square  Stone  in  the  bottom,  and  also  cicg^.ig^i) 
her  Tower,  from  which  the  Labyrinth  did  run  (are  yet  remaining) 
was  altogether  under  ground,  being  Vaults  Arched  and  Walled 
with  Brick  and  Stone,  almost  inextricably  wound  one  within 
another,  by  which,  if  at  any  time  her  Lodging  were  laid  about 
by  the  Queen,  she  might  easily  avoid  eminent  Peril,  and  if 
need  be,  by  secret  issues  take  the  Air  abroad,  many  Furlongs 
round  about  Woodstock  in  Oxfordshire,  wherein  it  was  situated. 
Thus  much  for  Rosamond's  Labyrinth. — '■  England s  Heroical 
Epistles.^  Annotations  to  '  The  Epistle  of  Rosamond  to  King 
Henry  II.'' 

— 'A/\M — 

Apothecary  to  James  I.  ;  for  his  "  Theatre  of  Plants  "  Charles  I.  made  him  JOHN 
^'  Botanicus  Regius  Primarius ;  "  he  spent  7iearly  ip years  in  travelling.  PARKINSON 

(1567- 1640). 

A  LTHOUGH  many  men  must  be  content  with  any  plat  of 
■'*•  ground,  of  what  form  or  quantity  soever  it  be,  more  or 
less,  for  their  Garden,  because  a  more  large  or  convenient  can- 
not be  had  to  their  habitation  :  Yet  I  perswade  myself,  that 
Gentlemen  of  the  better  sort  and  ('uality,  will  provide  such  a 
parcel  of  ground  to  be  laid  out  for  their  Garden,  and  in  such 
convenient  manner,  as  may  be  fit  and  answerable  to  the  degree 
they  hold.  .  .  .  The  orbicular  or  round  form  is  held  in  its  own 

^  Horace  Walpole,  who  reprinted  the  text  of  this  work  with  the  translation 
at  his  private  press  at  Strawberry  Hill  in  1757,  remarks  in  his  Advertisement : 
'  We  are  apt  to  think  that  Sir  William  Temple,  and  King  William,  were  in  a 
manner  the  introducers  of  gardening  into  England.  By  the  description  of 
Lord  Burleigh's  gardens  at  Theobalds,  and  of  those  at  Nonsuch,  we  find 
that  the  magnificent,  though  false  taste,  was  known  here  as  early  as  the 
reigns  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  his  daughter.  There  is  scarce  an  unnatural  and 
sumptuous  impropriety  at  Versailles  which  we  do  not  find  in  Ilentzner's 
description  of  the  gardens  above  mentioned.' 


76  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

proper  existence  to  be  the  most  absolute  form,  containing  within 
it  all  other  forms  whatsoever ;  but  few  I  think  will  choose  such 
a  proportion  to  be  joyned  to  their  habitation,  being  not  accepted 
any  where  I  think,  but  for  the  general  Garden  to  the  University 
at  Padua.  .  .  .  The  four  square  form  is  the  most  usually  accepted 
with  all,  and  doth  best  agree  to  any  man's  dwelling,  being  (as 
I  said  before)  behind  the  house,  all  the  back  windows  thereof 
opening  into  it.  Yet  if  it  be  longer  than  the  breadth,  or  broader 
than  the  length,  the  proportion  of  walks,  squares,  and  knots 
may  be  soon  brought  to  the  square  form  and  be  so  cast,  as 
the  beauty  thereof  may  be  no  lesse  than  the  four  square  pro- 
portion, or  any  other  better  form,  if  any  be.  To  form  it  there- 
fore with  walks,  cross  the  middle  both  wayes,  and  round  about 
it  also  with  hedges,  with  squares,  knots  and  trails,  or  any  other 
work  within  the  four  square  parts,  is  according  as  every  man's 
conceit  alloweth  of  it,  and  they  will  be  at  the  charge  :  For 
there  may  be  therein  walks  either  open  or  close,  either  pubhck 
or  private,  a  Maze,  or  Wildernesse,  a  Rock,  or  Mount,  with  a 
Fountain  in  the  midst  thereof  to  convey  water  to  every  part 
of  the  Garden,  either  in  Pipes  under  the  ground  or  brought  by 
hand,  and  emptied  into  large  Cisterns,  or  great  Turky  Jars, 
placed  in  convenient  places,  to  serve  as  an  ease  to  water  the 
nearest  parts  thereunto.  Arbours  also  being  both  graceful  and 
necessary,  may  be  appointed  in  such  convenient  places,  as 
the  corners  or  elsewhere,  as  may  be  most  lit,  to  serve  both  for 
shadow  and  rest  after  walking.  And  because  many  are  desirous 
to  see  the  forms  of  trails,  knots,  and  other  compartiments,  and 
because  the  open  knots  are  more  proper  for  these  Out-landish 
flowres;  I  have  here  caused  some  to  be  drawn,  to  satisfy  their 
desires ;  .  .  .  Let  every  man  therefore,  if  he  like  of  these,  take 
what  may  please  his  minde,  or  out  of  these  or  his  own  conceit 
frame  any  other  to  his  fancy,  or  cause  others  to  be  done,  as 
he  liketh  best,  observing  this  decorum,  that  according  to  his 
ground  he  do  cast  out  his  knots,  with  convenient  room  for 
allies  and  walks ;  for  the  fairer  and  larger  your  allies  and  walks 
be,  the   more   grace  your  Garden   shall   have,  the   lesse   harm 


THOMAS  HILL  77 

the  herbs  and  flowers  shall  receive,  by  passing  by  them  that 
grow  next  unto  the  allies  sides,  and  the  better  shall  your  Weeders 
cleanse  both  the  beds  and  the  allies. — '  Paradisi  in  Sole  Paradisus 
Terrestris  (  =  The  Earthly  Paradise  of  Park-in-Siin.),  or  a  garden 
of  all  sorts  of  J>leasa?it  flowers,'  6^r.,  with  engraved  title-page,  a 
portrait  and  109  woodcuts  {i62g,  folio). 

— WW' — 

A  hack-writer  on  Dreams,  Physiognomy,  Mysteries,  Astronomy  and  Gar-  THOMAS  HILL 
dening ;  author  of  '■A  ?nost  briefe  and  pleasatmt  Treatyse  teachynge  howe  to  ^^     DYDYMUS 
Dress,  Sowe,   and  Set  a  Garden,'  London,  8vo,   1563;   and  'The  profitable  J^^^"^^^^^' 
_Arte  of  Gardening,'    1567;    and  7inder  the  Latinized  name  of  ^  Dydymzis  ^    '     -J"    ' 
Moitntaine'    he  published  'The    Gardeners   Labyrinth'    (1571,    i^to,    ^lack 
fitter),  and  '  The  Second  Part'  in  1577.     '  The  Gardeners  Labyrinth'  was 
re-edited  by  H.  Dethycke  his  friend,  in  1586. 

npHE  husbandman  or  Gardener  shal  enjoy  a  most  commodiouse 
*  and  delectable  garden,  whiche  bothe  knoweth,  can,  and  will 
orderly  dresse  the  same :  yet  not  sufficient  is  it  to  a  Gardener, 
that  he  knoweth,  or  would  the  furtherance  of  the  Garden,  without 
a  cost  bestowed,  which  the  workes  and  labours  of  the  same 
require  :  nor  the  will  againe  of  the  workeman,  in  doing  and 
bestowing  of  charges,  shall  smally  avayle,  without  he  have  both 
arte  and  skill  in  the  same.  For  that  cause,  it  is  the  chiefest 
poynt  in  every  facultie  and  busines,  to  understand  and  know 
what  to  begin  and  follow :  as  the  learned  Columella  out  of 
Varronianus  Tremellius  aptly  uttereth.  The  person  which  shall 
enjoy  or  have  in  a  readinesse  these  three,  and  will  purposedly 
or  with  diligence  frame  to  him  a  well  dressed  Garden,  shall  after 
obtayne  these  two  commodities,  as  utilitie  and  delight :  the 
utilitie,  yeeldeth  the  plentie  of  Herbes,  floures,  and  fruytes 
right  delectable :  but  the  pleasure  of  the  same  procureth  a 
delight,  and  (as  Varro  writeth)  a  jucunditie  of  minde.  For 
that  cause  a  Garden  shal  workemanly  be  handled  and  dressed 
unto  the  necessarie  use  and  commoditie  of  man's  life,  next  for 
health,  and  the  recoverie  of  strength  by  sicknesse  feebled  :  as 
the  singular  Palladius  Rutilius  hath  learnedly  uttered,  and  the 
skilful  Florentinus,   that  wrote  cunningly  of  husbandry   in   the 


78  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Greek  tunge,  certayne  yeeres  before  him :  Lastly  by  sight  unto 
delectation,  and  jucunditie  through  the  fragrancie  of  smell :  but 
most  of  all,  that  the  same  may  furnishe  the  owners,  and  husbande 
mans  table,  with  sundry  seemely  and  dayntie  dishes,  to  him  of 
small  coste.  The  Garden  grounde  (if  the  same  may  be)  ought 
rather  to  be  placed  neere  hande,  whereby  the  owner  or  Gardener 
may  with  more  ease  be  partaker  of  such  commodities  growing  in 
the  garden,  and  bothe  oftner  resorte  and  use  his  diligence  in  the 
same :  So  that  this  is  the  whole  care  and  duetie  required  of  every 
owner  and  Gardener  in  their  plot  of  ground. —  The  Gardener's 
Labyrinth,     a.d.  1577. 

— v\/\/Vv— 

LEONARD  Clerk  of  Kitchen  in  house  of  Parker,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury:  author  of 
MASCHAL  <^  Booke  of  the  Arte  and  inaner  howe  to  plant  and graffe  all  sortes  of  Trees,^ 
{d.  1589).  1572;  'On  the  Govern  went  of  Cattle'  {with  portrait),  1596,  a  later  edition 

(1680)  being  called  ^''  The  Countryman' s  Jewel." 

WILLIAM  Writer  on  gardening,  whose  book  'A  new  Orchard  and  Garden,'  he  says 
LAWSON  luas  the  result  of  i,^  years'  experience.  It  appeared  in  1618,  and  earned  him 
r.  1570-1618).  ^^^  natne  of '  the  Isaac  Walton  of  Gardeners.' 

'HE  very  works  of,  and  in  an  Orchard  and  Garden,  are  better 
than  the  ease  and  rest  of  and  from  other  laboures.  When 
God  had  made  man  after  his  owne  Image,  in  a  perfect  state, 
and  would  have  him  to  represent  himselfe  in  authoritie,  tran- 
quilitie,  and  pleasure  upon  the  Earth,  He  placed  him  in  Paradise. 
What  was  Paradise  ?  But  a  Garden  and  Orchard  of  trees  and 
hearbs,  full  of  all  pleasure  ?  and  nothing  there  but  delights. 
The  gods  of  the  Earth,  resembling  the  great  God  of  heaven  in 
authoritie.  Majestic,  and  abundance  of  all  things,  wherein  is 
their  most  delight  ?  And  whether  doe  they  withdraw  themselves 
from  the  troublesome  affayres  of  their  estate,  being  tyred  with 
the  hearing  and  judging  of  litigious  Controversies?  choked  (as 
it  were),  with  the  close  ayres  of  their  sumptuous  buildings,  their 
stomacks  cloyed  with  varietie  of  Banquets,  their  eares  filled  and 
over-burthened  with  tedious  discoursings.      Whither?    but  into 


T' 


WILLIAM  LAWSON  79 

their  Orchards?  made  and  prepared,  dressed  and  destinated  for 
that  purpose  to  renew  and  refresh  their  sences,  and  to  call  home 
their  over-wearied  spirits.  Nay,  it  is  (no  doubt)  a  comfort  to 
them,  to  set  open  their  Cazements  into  a  most  delicate  Garden 
and  Orchard,  whereby  they  may  not  only  see  that,  wherein  they 
are  so  much  delighted,  but  also  to  give  fresh,  sweete,  and  pleasant 
ayre  to  their  Galleries  and  Chambers. 

What  can  your  eye  desire  to  see,  your  eares  to  heare,  your 
mouth  to  taste,  or  your  nose  to  smell,  that  is  not  to  be  had  in 
an  Orchard  ?  with  abundance  and  variety  ?  What  more  delight- 
some than  an  infinite  varietie  of  sweet  smelling  flowers  ?  decking 
"with  sundry  colours  the  greene  mantle  of  the  Earth,  the  universal! 
Mother  of  us  all,  so  by  them  bespotted,  so  dyed,  that  all  the 
world  cannot  sample  them,  and  wherein  it  is  more  fit  to  admire 
the  Dyer,  than  imitate  his  workemanship.  Colouring  not  onely 
the  earth,  but  decking  the  ayre,  and  sweetning  every  breath  and 
spirit. 

The  Rose  red,  damaske,  velvet,  and  double  double  province 
Rose,  the  sweet  muske  Rose  double  and  single,  the  double  and 
single  white  Rose.  The  faire  and  sweet  senting  Woodbind, 
double  and  single.  Purple  Cowslips,  and  double  Cowslips, 
Primrose  double  and  single.  The  Violet  nothing  behinde  the 
best,  for  smelling  sweetly.  And  1000  more  will  provoke  your 
content. 

And  all  these,  by  the  skill  of  your  Gardiner,  so  comely,  and 
orderly  placed  in  your  Borders  and  Squares,  and  so  intermingled, 
that  none  looking  thereon,  cannot  but  wonder,  to  see,  what  Nature 
corrected  by  Art  can  doe. 

When  you  behold  in  divers  corners  of  your  Orchard  Mounts  of 
stone,  or  wood  curiously  wrought  within  and  without,  or  of  earth 
covered  with  fruit  trees  :  Kentish  Cherry,  Damsons,  plummes,  etc. 
With  stares  of  precious  workmanship  And  in  some  corner  (or 
more)  a  true  Dyall  or  Clock,  and  some  Anticke  works,  and 
especially  silver  s(o)unding  Musique,  mixt  Instruments  and 
voyces,  gracing  all  the  rest  :     How  will  you  be  rapt  with  delight  ? 

Large  walks,  broad  and  long,  close  and  open,  like  the  Tempe 


8o  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

groves  in  Thessalie,  raysed  with  gravell  and  sand,  having  seats  and 
banks  of  Camamile,  all  this  delights  the  rainde,  and  brings  health 
to  the  body. 

View  now  with  delight  the  works  of  your  owne  hands,  your 
fruit  trees  of  all  sorts,  loaden  with  sweet  blossomes,  and  fruit  of 
all  tasts,  operations,  and  coloures  ;  your  trees  standing  in  comely 
order  which  way  soever  you  looke. 

Your  borders  on  every  side  hanging  and  drooping  with  Feberries, 
Raspberries,  Barberries,  Currens,  and  the  roots  of  your  trees 
powdred  with  Strawberries,  red,  white,  and  greene,  what  a  pleasure 
is  this? 

Your  Gardiner  can  frame  your  lesser  wood  to  the  shape  of  men 
armed  in  the  field,  ready  to  give  battell :  or  swift  running  Grey 
hounds  :  or  of  well  sented  and  true  running  Hounds,  to  chase  the 
Deere,  or  hunt  the  Hare.  This  kinde  of  hunting  shall  not  waste 
your  come,  nor  much  your  coyne. 

Mazes  well  framed  a  man's  height,  may  perhaps  make  your 
friend  wander  in  gathering  of  berries,  till  he  cannot  recover  hirn- 
selfe  without  your  helpe. 

To  have  occasion  to  Exercise  within  your  Orchard  :  it  shall  be 
a  pleasure  to  have  a  Bowling  Alley,  or  rather  (which  is  more 
manly,  and  more  healthfull)  a  payre  of  Buttes,  to  stretch  your 
armes. 

Rosemary  and  sweet  Eglantine  are  seemly  ornaments  about  a 
Doore  or  Window,  so  is  Woodbine. 

Looke  Chap.  5  and  you  shall  see  the  forme  of  a  Conduict.  It 
there  were  two  or  more  it  were  not  amisse. 

And  in  mine  opinion,  I  could  highly  commend  your  Orchard, 
if  eyther  thorow  it,  or  hard  by  it  there  should  runne  a  pleasant 
River  with  silver  streames  :  you  might  sit  in  your  Mount,  and 
angle  a  peckled  Trout,  or  a  sleightie  Eele,  or  some  other  Fish. 
Or  Moats,  whereon  you  might  row  with  a  Boat,  and  fish  with  Nets. 

Store  of  Bees  in  a  dry  and  warme  Bee-house,  comely  made  of 
Firboords,  to  sing,  and  sit,  and  feede  upon  your  flowers  and 
sprouts,  make  a  pleasant  noyse  and  sight.  For  cleanly  and 
innocent  Bees,  of  all  other  things,  love  and  become,  and  thrive  in 


WILLIAM  LAWSON  8i 

an  Orchard.  If  they  thrive  (as  they  must  needs  if  your  Gardiner 
be  skilful!,  and  love  them  :  for  they  love  their  friends,  and  hate 
none  but  their  Enemies)  they  will  besides  the  pleasure,  yeeld 
great  profit,  to  pay  him  his  wages.  Yea,  the  increase  of  twenty 
Stocks,  or  Stooles  with  other  fees  will  keep  your  Orchard.  You 
need  not  doubt  their  stings,  for  they  hurt  not,  whom  they  know, 
and  they  know  their  keeper  and  acquaintance.  If  you  like  not 
to  come  amongst  them,  you  neede  not  doubt  them  :  for  but  neere 
their  store,  and  in  their  owne  defence,  they  will  not  fight,  and  in 
that  case  onely  (and  who  can  blame  them  ?)  they  are  manly  and 
fight  desperately.  Some  (as  that  Honourable  Lady  at  Hacknes, 
Whose  name  doth  much  grace  mine  Orchard)  use  to  make  seats 
for  them  in  the  Stone  wall  of  their  Orchard  or  Garden,  which  is 
good,  but  wood  is  better.  A  vine  over-shadowing  a  seat  is  very 
comely,  though  her  Grapes  with  us  ripe  slowly. 

One  chiefe  grace  that  adornes  an  Orchard  I  cannot  let  slippe. 
A  broode  of  Nightingales,  who  with  their  several  notes  and  tunes, 
with  a  strong  delightsome  voyce,  out  of  a  weake  body,  will  beare 
you  company  night  and  day.  She  loves  (and  lives  in)  hots  of 
wood  in  her  heart.  She  will  help  you  to  cleanse  your  trees  of 
Caterpillars,  and  all  noysome  wormes  and  flyes.  The  gentle 
Robbin-red-brest  will  helpe  her,  and  in  Winter  in  the  coldest 
stormes  will  keepe  a  part. 

Neither  will  the  Silly  Wren  be  behind  in  Summer,  with  her 
distinct  whistle  (like  a  sweet  Recorder)  to  cheere  your  spirits. 

The  Black-bird  and  Threstle  (for  I  take  it  the  Thrush  sings 
not,  but  devoures)  sing  loudly  in  a  May  morning,  and  delights 
the  Eare  much  (and  you  neede  not  want  their  company,  if  you 
have  ripe  Cherryes  or  Berries,  and  would  as  gladly  as  the  rest  doe 
you  pleasure  :)  But  I  had  rather  want  their  company  than  my 
fruit. 

What  shall  I  say?  looo  of  delights  are  in  an  Orchard  :  and 
sooner  shall  I  be  weary,  then  I  can  reckon  the  least  part  of  that 
pleasure,  which  one,  that  hath  and  loves  an  Orchard  may  finde 
therein. 

What  is  there,  of  all  these  few  that  I  have  reckoned,  which 

F 


82  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

doth  not  please  the  eye,  the  eare,  the  smell  and  taste?  And 
by  these  sences,  as  Organes,  Pipes,  and  VVindowes,  these 
delights  are  carryed  to  refresh  the  gentle,  generous,  and  noble 
minde. 

To  conclude,  what  joy  may  you  have,  that  you  living  to  such 
an  age,  shall  see  the  blessings  of  God  on  your  labours,  while  you 
live,  and  leave  behind  you  to  your  heires,  or  successors  (for  God 
will  make  heires)  such  a  worke,  that  many  ages  after  your  death, 
shall  record  your  love  to  your  Country.  And  the  rather,  when  you 
consider,  to  what  a  length  of  time  your  worke  is  like  to  last. — '  A 
New  Orchard  and  Garden.^     i6i8.^ 

—^A/\/\/v — 

ROBERT  f^^y  Clerk  of  the  Council- Chamber  Door  and  Gentleman  Usher ^  under  the 

LANEHAM  patronage  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester.     He  is  the  author  of  a  letter  describing 

{fl.  1575)'  the    ''Entertainment   unto   the    Queen's  Majesty  at  Killingworth   Castle   in 

IVarwicksheer  in  this  Somers  Progress,  1575,'  which  is  used  by  Sir  Walter 

Scott  in  '  Kenilworth  '  and  characterised  by  him  as  '  A  very  diverting  Tract, 

ivritten  by  as  great  a  Coxcomb  as  ever  blotted  paper.' 

UNTO  this,  his  Honor's  (the  Earl  of  Leicester's)  exquisite 
appointment  of  a  beautiful  garden,  an  acre  or  more  in 
quantity,  that  lieth  on  the  north  there  :  Whereon  hard  all  along 
by  the  Castle  wall  is  reared  a  pleasant  terrace,  ten  feet  high,  and 
twelve  feet  broad,  even  under  foot,  and  fresh  of  fine  grass  ;  as  is 
also  the  side  thereof  towards  the  garden  :  In  which,  by  sundry 
equal  distances,  with  obelisks  and  spheres,  and  white  bears,  all  of 
stone  upon  their  curious  bases,  by  goodly  shew  were  set ;  To  these, 
two  fine  arbours  redolent  by  sweet  trees  and  flowers,  at  each  end 
one,  the  garden  plot  under  that,  with  fair  alleys,  green  by  grass, 
even  voided  from  the  borders  on  both  sides,  and  some  (for  change) 
with  sand,  not  light,  or  too  soft,  or  soily  by  dust,  but  smooth  and 
firm,  pleasant  to  walk  on,  as  a  sea-shore  when  the  water  is  availed. 
Then,  much  gracified  by  due  proportion  of  four  even  quarters  ;  in 

'  This  work  usually  forms  part  of  Gervase  Markham's  'A  way  to  get 
Wealth,'  which  went  through  many  editions. 


ROBERT  LANEHAM  83 

the  midst  of  each,  upon  a  base  of  two  feet  square,  and  high,  seemly 
bordered  of  itself,  a  square  pilaster  rising  pyramidically  fifteen  feet 
high.  Symmetrically  pierced  through  from  a  foot  beneath  to  two 
feet  of  the  top  :  whereupon,  for  a  Capital,  an  orb  of  ten  inches 
thick  ;  every  one  of  these,  with  its  base,  from  the  ground  to  the 
top,  of  one  whole  piece  ;  hewn  out  of  hard  porphyry,  and  with 
great  art  and  heed  (think  me)  thither  conveyed  and  there  erected. 
Where,  further  also,  by  great  cast  and  cost,  the  sweetness  of  savour 
on  all  sides,  made  so  respirant  from  the  redolent  plants,  and 
fragrant  herbs  and  flowers,  in  form,  colour,  and  quantity  so 
deliciously  variant ;  and  fruit-trees  bedecked  with  apples,  pears, 
"and  ripe  cherries.  .  .  . 

A  garden  then  so  appointed,  as  wherein  aloft  upon  sweet 
shadowed  walk  of  terrace,  in  heat  of  summer  to  feel  the  pleasant 
whisking  wind  above,  or  delectable  coolness  of  the  fountain-spring 
beneath  ;  to  taste  of  delicious  strawberries,  cherries,  and  other 
fruits,  even  from  their  stalks  ;  to  smell  such  fragrancy  of  sweet 
odours,  breathing  from  the  plants,  herbs,  and  flowers  ;  to  hear  such 
natural  melodious  music  and  tunes  of  birds ;  to  have  in  eye  for 
mirth  sometime  these  underspringing  streams  ;  then,  the  woods, 
the  waters  (for  both  pool  and  chase  were  hard  at  hand  in  sight), 
the  deer,  the  people  (that  out  of  the  East  arbour  in  the  base 
Court,  also  at  hand  in  view),  the  fruit-trees,  the  plants,  the  herbs, 
the  flowers,  the  change  in  colours,  the  birds  flittering,  the  fountain 
streaming,  the  fish  swimming,  all  in  such  delectable  variety,  order, 
and  dignity ;  whereby,  at  one  moment,  in  one  place,  at  hand, 
without  travel,  to  have  so  full  fruition  of  so  many  God's  blessings, 
by  entire  delight  unto  all  senses  (if  all  can  take)  at  once  ;  for 
etymon  of  the  word  worthy  to  be  called  Paradise  :  and  though 
not  so  goodly  as  Paradise,  for  want  of  the  fair  rivers,  yet  better 
a  great  deal  by  the  lack  of  so  unhappy  a  tree.  Argument  most 
certain  of  a  right  noble  mind,  that  in  this  sort  could  have  thus  all 
contrived.— Letter  describing  the  Pageants  at  Kenilworth  Castle. 
1575- 


84  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


SIR  J-Vas  educated  at   Winchester  and  Oxford,  then  travelled  J  or  nine  years,  one 

HENRY  y^df.  ifi  Prance,  and  at  Geneva,  where  he  was  acquainted  with  Theodore  Beza 
,  Vr,  ^  f^  d-'^d  Isaac  Casaubon ;  three  years  in  Germany  and  five  in  Italy,  where 
{according:;  to  Isaac  IValton),  both  in  Rome,  Venice,  and  Florence  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  niost  eminent  men  for  learning,  atid  all  7nanner  of  arts,  as 
picture,  sculpture,  chemistry,  architecture,  and  other  manual  arts:  on  his 
return  became  Secretary  to  the  Earl  of  JEssex,  upon  whose  apprehettsion  he 
returned  to  Italy.  The  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  sent  him  to  James,  King  of 
Scotland,  to  acquaint  him  with  a  plot  upon  his  life,  ivhich  was  the  beginning 
of  Wotton's  fortune.  On  the  King's  accession  he  was  sent  as  Ambassador  to 
Venice — in  Augsbtirg  he  wrote  his  famous  definition  of  an  Ambassador 
sent  to  ''lie  abroad  for  his  country' — on  his  return  he  was  made  Provost  of 
Eton. 

His  writings  were  collected  in  '  Reliquicc  IVottoniana'  by  I.  Walton  (1651), 
containing  his  *  Elements  of  Architecture.'  He  is  now  remembered  chiefly 
by  his  poems,  and  his  epigram  {recorded  on  his  tomb)  '  Disputandi  pruritus 
ecclesiarutn  scabies. ' 

THIRST,  I  must  note  a  certain  contrariety  between  building  and 
*■  gardening:  for  as  Fabricks  should  be  regular,  so  Gardens 
should  be  irregular,  or  at  least  cast  into  a  very  wild  Regularity. 
To  exemplifie  my  conceit,  I  have  seen  a  Garden,  for  the  manner 
perchance  incomparable,  into  which  the  first  Access  was  a  high 
walk  like  a  Tarrace,  from  whence  might  be  taken  a  general  view 
of  the  whole  Plot  below,  but  rather  in  a  dehghtful  confusion,  then 
with  any  plain  distinction  of  the  pieces.  From  this  the  Beholder 
descending  many  steps,  was  afterwards  conveyed  again  by  several 
mountings  and  valings,  to  various  entertainments  of  his  sent  and 
sight :  which  I  shall  not  need  to  describe,  for  that  were  poetical, 
let  me  only  note  this,  that  every  one  of  these  diversities,  was  as 
if  he  had  been  magically  transported  into  a  new  Garden. 

But  though  other  Cou?itreys  have  more  benefit  of  Sun  than  we, 
and  thereby  more  properly  tyed  to  contemplate  this  delight ;  yet 
have  I  seen  in  our  own,  a  delicate  and  diligent  curiosity,  surely 
without  parallel  among  foreign  Nations  :  Namely,  in  the  Garden 
of  Sir  Henry  Fanshaw,  at  his  Seat  in  Ware-Park ;  where  I  well 
remember,  he  did  so  precisely  examine  the  titictures  and  seasons 
of  his  flowers,  that  in  their  settings,  the  inwardest  of  which  that 
were  to  come  up  at  the  same  time,  should  be  always  a  little  darker 


JOSEPH  HALL  85 

than  the  outmost,  and  so  serve  them  for  a  kind  of  gentle  shadow, 
Hke  a  piece  not  of  Nature,  but  of  Art :  which  mention  (incident 
to  this  place)  I  have  willingly  made  of  his  Name,  for  the  dear 
friendship,  that  was  long  between  us  :  though  I  must  confess, 
with  much  wrong  to  his  other  vertues ;  which  deserve  a  more 
solid  Memorial,  then  among  these  vacant  Observations.  So 
much  of  Garde?is. — The  Elements  of  Architecture. 

(  Upon  the  sight  of  Tulipaes  and  Marygolds,  etc.,  in  his  Garden.)    JOSEPH 

HALL— 
'HpHESE  Flowers  are  true  Clients  of  the  Sunne ;  how  observant  Bishop  of 

*       they  are  of  his  motion,  and  influence.  Norwicli'^ 

At  even,  they  shut  up,  as  mourning  for  his  departure,  without  (1574-1656). 
whom  they  neither  can  nor  would  flourish  in  the  morning ;  they 
welcome  his  rising  with  a  cheerfuU  opennesse,  and  at  noone,  are 
fully  display'd  in  a  free  acknowledgment  of  his  bounty  :  Thus  doth 
the  good  hart  unto  God  ;  When  thou  turnedst  away  thy  face  I 
was  troubled,  saith  the  man  after  God's  owne  hart ;  in  thy  pre- 
sence is  life ;  yea  the  fuUnesse  of  joy :  thus  doth  the  carnall  hart 
to  the  world ;  when  that  withdrawes  his  favour,  hee  is  dejected ; 
and  revives  with  a  smile  :  All  is  in  our  choyse ;  whatsoever  is  our 
Sun  will  thus  carry  us ;  O  God,  be  thou  to  mee,  such  as  thou  art 
in  thyselfe ;  thou  shalt  bee  mercifuU  in  drawing  me ;  I  shall  be 
happy  in  following  thee. — Occasional  Meditations. 

TO  walk  amongst  orchards,^  gardens,  bowers,  mounts  and  arbours,  ROBERT 
artificial  wildernesses,  green  thickets,  arches,  groves,  lawns,  {-.VJ^.I^q) 
rivulets,  fountains,  and  such  like  pleasant  places,  like  that  Anti- 
ochian  Daphne,  brooks,  pools,  fishponds,  between  wood  and  water, 
in  a  fair  meadow,  by  a  river  side,  ubivaricc  avium  cantatio?ies  flormn 
park,  run  up  a  steep  hill  sometimes,  or  sit  in  a  shady  seat,  must 

^  Ambulationes  subdiales,  quas  hortenses  aurse  ministrant,  sub  fornice  viridi, 
pampinis  virentibus  concameratse. 


86  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

colores,  pratorum  frutices,^  etc.;  to  disport  in  some  pleasant  plain, 
needs  be  a  delectable  recreation.  Hortum  principis  et  domus  ad 
delectationem  facia,  cum  sylvd,  monte  et  piscina,  vulgh  la  Motitagna  : 
the  prince's  garden  at  Ferrara  Schottus  -  highly  magnifies,  with 
the  groves,  mountains,  ponds,  for  a  delectable  prospect,  he  was 
much  affected  with  it ;  a  Persian  paradise,  or  pleasant  park,  could 
not  be  more  delectable  in  his  sight.  St  Bernard,  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  his  monastery,  is  almost  ravished  with  the  pleasures  of  it. 
A  sick  matt  ^  (saith  he)  sits  upon  a  green  bank,  and  tvhen  the  dog- 
star  parcheth  the  Plains,  aiid  dries  up  rivers,  he  lies  in  a  shady 
bow  re  I  Fronde  sub  arborea  ferventia  temperat  astra,  and  feeds 
his  eyes  with  variety  of  objects,  herbs,  trees,  to  comfort  his  misery, 
he  receives  many  delightsome  smells,  and  fills  his  ears  with  that  siveet 
and  various  harmony  of  Birds :  good  God  (saith  he)  ivhat  a  com- 
pany of  pleasures  hast  thou  made  for  man!  He  that  should  be 
admitted  on  a  sudden  to  the  sight  of  such  a  Palace  as  that  of 
Escurial  in  Spain,  or  to  that  which  the  Moors  built  at  Grajiado, 
Fountenbletve  in  France,  the  Turks  gardens  in  his  seraglio,  wherein 
all  manner  of  Birds  and  beasts  are  kept  for  pleasure  ;  Wolves, 
Bears,  lynces,  Tygers,  Lyons,  Elephants,  etc.  or  upon  the  banks 
of  that  Thracian  Bosphorus :  the  Pope's  Belvedere  in  Ro7ne  ^  as 
pleasing  as  those  Horti  pensiles  in  Babylon,  or  that  Indian  King's 
delightsome  garden  in  /Elian ;  •'  or  those  famous  gardens  of  the 
Lord  Canteloiv  in  Fra7ice,^  could  not  choose,  though  he  were 
never  so  ill  apaid,  but  be  much  recreated  for  the  time ;  or 
many  of  our  Noblemens  gardens  at  home. — The  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy. 

^  Theophylact. 

-  Itinerar.  Ital. 

•^  Sedet  aegrotus  cespite  viridi,  et  cum  inclementia  Canicularis  terras  excoquit, 
et  siccat  flumina,  ipse  securus  sedet  sub  arborea  fronde,  et  ad  doloris  sui 
solatium,  naribus  suis  gramineas  redolet  species,  pascit  oculos  herbarum 
amoena  viriditas,  aures  suavi  modulamine  demulcet  pictaram  concentus  avium, 
etc.     Deus  bone,  quanta  pauperibus  procuras  solatia  ! 

*  Diod.  Siculus,  lib.  2. 

^  Lib.  13,  De  Animal,  cap.  13. 

^  Pet.  Gillius,  Paul  Hentznerus,  Itinerar.  Italirc,  1617  :  lod.  Sincerus, 
Itinerar.     Gallise,  1617  ;  Simp.  lib.  i,  quest.  4. 


JOHN  TAYLOR  87 

AMONGST   the    rest,  the  pains    and    industry  of  an  ancient  JOHN  TAYLOR 
1  AT      ^J  •        X-:u     .  .        .  u     r         ..  r     ('THE  WATER 

gentleman,  Mr  Adrian  (Tilbert,  must  not  be  forgotten:  forpoE-p') 

there  ^  hath  he  (much  to  my  Lord's  cost  and  his  own  pains)  used   15S0-1654  . 

such  a  deal   of  intricate  setting,  grafting,  planting,  inoculating, 

railing,  hedging,  plashing,  turning,  winding,  and  returning,  circular, 

triangular,  quadrangular,  orbicular,  oval,  and  every  way  curiously 

and  chargeably  conceited  :  there  hath  he  made  walks,  hedges,  and 

arbours,  of  all  manner  of  most  delicate  fruit-trees,  planting  and 

placing  them  in  such  admirable  art-like  fashions,  resembling  both 

divine  and  moral  remembrances,  as  three  arbours  standing  in  a 

triangle,  having  each  a  recourse  to  a  greater  arbour  in  the  midst. 

resembleth  three  in    one  and  one  in  three  :   and  he  hath  there 

planted  certain  walks  and  arbours  all  with  fruit-trees,  so  pleasing 

and  ravishing  to  the  sense,  that  he  calls  it  Paradise,  in  which  he 

plays  the  part  of  a  true  Adamist,  continually  toiling  and  tilling. 

Moreover,  he   hath    made   his  walks  most  rarely  round  and 

spacious,  one  walk  without   another  (as   the   rinds  of  an  onion 

are  greatest  without,  and  less  towards  the  centre),  and  withall, 

the  hedges  betwixt  each  walk  are  so  thickly  set  that  one  cannot 

see  through  from  the  one  walk,  who  walks  in  the  other  :   that, 

in  conclusion,   the  work    seems    endless  :    and   I  think  that  in 

England  it  is  not  to  be  fellowed,  or  will  in  haste  be  followed. — 

Of  the  Gardens  at  Wilton. 

A  Moravian  Minister :  settled  in  Poland,  published  - Janua  Lingtiarum  '  JOHN  AMOS 
— was  invited  to  England :  travelled  in  Sweden  and  finally  settled  in  COMENIUS 
Amsterdam:   author  of  '  Orbis  Sensualiiim  Pictns.'  1592-1071  • 

^  ARDENING  is  practised  for  food's  sake  in  a  kitchen  garden 
^-^  and  orchard,  or  for  pleasure's  sake  in  a  green  grass-plot 
and  an  arbour. 

The  pleacher  (Topiarius)  prepares  a  green  plot  of  the  more 
choice  flowers  and  rarer  plants,  and  adorns  the  garden  with 
pleach-work  ;  that  is  with  pleasant  walks  and  bowers,  etc.,  to 
conclude  with  water-works. — '/anua   Trili/igia's.' 

'  At  Wilton,  the  seat  of  the  Earl  Pembroke.    (See  Illustration  in  Appendix.) 


88  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

WILLIAM     TF  you   looke  into  our  gardens  annexed  to  our  houses,  how 
HARRISON  1     vvoonderfuUie    is    their    beauty   increased,  not    onelie   with 
floures,  which  Col(u)mella  calleth  Terrena  sydera,  saieng : 

Pingit  et  in  van'os  terrestria  sydera Jlores , 

and  varietie  of  curious  and  costHe  workmanship,  but  also  with 
rare  and  medicinable  hearbes  sought  up  in  the  land  within 
these  fortie  yeares :  so  that  in  comparison  of  this  present,  the 
ancient  Gardens  were  but  dunghils  and  laistowes  to  such  as 
did  possesse  them.  How  art  also  helpeth  nature,  in  the  dailie 
colouring,  dubling  and  inlarging  the  proportion  of  our  floures, 
it  is  incredible  to  report,  for  so  curious  and  cunning  are  our 
Gardeners  now  in  these  dales,  that  they  presume  to  doo  in 
maner  what  they  list  with  nature,  and  moderate  hir  course  in 
things  as  if  they  were  hir  superiours.  It  is  a  world  also  to 
see  how  manie  strange  hearbs,  plants,  and  annuall  fruits,  are 
dailie  brought  unto  us  from  the  Indies,  Americans,  Taprobane 
Canarie  lies,  and  all  parts  of  the  world  :  the  which,  albeit  that 
in  respect  of  the  constitutions  of  our  bodies  they  doo  not  grow 
for  us,  because  that  God  hath  bestowed  sufficient  commodities 
upon  everie  countrie  for  hir  owne  necessitie ;  yet  for  delectation 
sake  unto  the  eie,  and  their  odoriferous  savours  unto  the  nose, 
they  are  to  be  cherished,  and  God  to  be  glorified  also  in  them, 
because  they  are  his  good  gifts,  and  created  to  doo  man  help 
and  service.  .  .  . 

For  mine  owne  part,  good  reader,  let  me  boast  a  little  of 
my  garden,  which  is  but  small,  and  the  whole  Area  thereof 
little  above  300  foot  of  ground,  and  yet,  such  hath  beene  my 
good  lucke  in  purchase  of  the  varietie  of  simples,  that  notwith- 
standing my  small  abilitie,  there  are  verie  neere  three  hundred 
of  one  sort  and  other  conteined  therein,  no  one  of  them  being 
common  or  usuallie  to  bee  had.  If  therefore  my  little  plot, 
void  of  all  cost  in  keeping,  be  so  well  furnished,  what  shall 
we  thinke  of  those  of  Hampton  Court,  Nonesuch,  Tibaults, 
Cobham  garden,  and  sundrie  other  apperteining  to  diuerse  citizens 


GEORGE  HERBERT  89 

of  London,  whom  I  could  particularlie  name,  if  I  should  not 
seeme  to  offend  them  by  such  my  demeanour  and  dealing. — 
The  Descriptio7i  of  England,  1577  {in  HoUinshed'' s  Chronicles). 

V/'OU  may  be  on  land,  yet  not  in  a  garden.  GEORGE 

^       A  noble  plant  suits  not  with  a  stubborn  ground.  a^'v^^a^'^ 

The  charges  of  building  and  making  of  gardens  are  unknown. 
Although  it  rain,  throw  not  away  thy  watering-pot. 
Fear  keeps  the  garden  better  than  the  gardener. 
-  A  garden  must  be  looked  unto  and  dressed,  as  the  body. 

Janila  Prudentum,  or  Outlandish  Proverbs.      1640. 

In  the  knowledge  of  simples,  wherein  the  manifold  wisdom 
of  God  is  wonderfully  to  be  seen,  one  thing  would  be  carefully 
observed — which  is,  to  know  what  herbs  may  be  used  instead 
of  drugs  of  the  same  nature,  and  to  make  the  garden  the  shop  \ 
for  home-bred  medicines  are  both  more  easy  for  the  parson's 
purse,  and  more  familiar  for  all  men's  bodies.  So,  where  the 
apothecary  useth  either  for  loosing,  rhubarb,  or  for  binding, 
bolearmena,  the  parson  useth  damask  or  wliite  roses  for  the 
one,  and  plantain,  shepherd's-purse,  knot-grass  for  the  other, 
and  that  with  better  success.  As  for  spices,  he  doth  not  only 
prefer  home-bred  things  before  them,  but  condemns  them  for 
vanities,  and  so  shuts  them  out  of  his  family,  esteeming  that 
there  is  no  spice  comparable  for  herbs  to  rosemary,  thyme, 
savory,  mints ;  and  for  seeds  to  fennel  and  carraway-seeds- 
Accordingly,  for  salves,  his  wife  seeks  not  the  city,  but  prefers 
her  garden  and  fields,  before  all  outlandish  gums.  And  surely 
hyssop,  valerian,  mercury,  adder's  tongue,  yarrow,  melilot,  and 
St  John's  wort  made  into  a  salve,  and  elder,  camomile,  mallows, 
comphrey,  and  smallage  made  into  a  poultice,  have  done  great 
and  rare  cures. — A  Priest  to  the  Teinple ;  or  the  Country  Parson, 
his  Character  and  Rule  of  Holy  Life.      1652. 

— 'AA/W— 


90  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

PIERRE  One  of  the  most  distinguished  naturalists,  mathematicians  and  philosophers 

GAS  SEND  I  of  France.  1624,  wrote  his  "  Paradoxical  Exercises  against  the  Aristotelians,^' 
\  59  "  55 '•  which  earned  him  the  influence  of  Nicolas  Peiresc,  President  of  the  University 
of  Aix.  He  then  studied  Astronomy  and  Anatomy,  and  7vrote  a  treatise  to 
show  that  man  was  intended  to  be  a  Vegetarian.  1628,  he  visited  Holland,  and 
'vroie  an  Examination  of  Robert  Fludd's  Afosaic  philosophy.  1631,  he  observed 
the  Transit  of  Mercury  over  the  Sun's  disc,  foretold  by  Kepler.  1 64 1,  he  was 
called  to  Paris,  and  wrote  a  metaphysical  Disquisition  on  Doubts  upon  the 
' '  Meditations  "  of  his  friend  Descartes  :  they  became  estranged  and  recoticiled. 
Gassouli's  philosophy  of  Atoms  and  a  Void  was  founded  upon  the  Doctrines  of 
De?nocritus  and  Epicurus,  1645,  appointed  Professor  of  Mathematics  in  the 
College  Royale  de  Paris  by  influence  of  Cardinal  du  Plessis.  1647,  published 
his  chief  work  on  "  The  Life  and  Jllorals  of  Epicurus,"  %vhich  rehabilitated  this 
philosopher ;  and  in  1653,  the  Lives  of  Tycho  Brahi^,  Copernicus,  and  other 
Astronomers. 

Bayle  styled  him  '■'■the  greatest  philosopher  af)iong  scholars,  and  the  greatest 
scholar  among  philosophers. " 

A  S  concerning  Plants,  it  may  be  expected  that  I  should  in  this 
■**•  place  reckon  up  the  principal  of  them ;  yet  I  will  not  stand 
to  speak  of  such,  which  though  accounted  rare  are  to  be  seen 
in  other  Gardens.  I  shall  only  touch  at  some  of  those  which 
Peireskius  was  the  first,  that  caused  to  be  brought  into,  and 
cherished  in  Europe.  Of  which  the  Indian  Gelsemine  is  one, 
a  wooddy  plant,  always  green,  with  a  clay-coloured  yellowish 
flower,  of  a  most  sweet  smell. 

This  was  first  brought  from  China,  planted  at  Beaugensier,  and 
from  thence  propagated  into  the  King's  and  Cardinal  Barlerine 
his  Gardens.  .  .  .  The  next  is  a  plant  called  Lifa,  or  the  Gourd 
of  Meccha  .  .  .  also  the  true  Papyrus  /Egyptia  or  Egyptian 
paper  .  .  ,  also  the  Indian  Coco  Nuts.  ...  In  the  next  place, 
Ginger,  which  being  brought  out  of  India  did  wax  green  in  his 
Garden,  from  whence  it  was  sent  to  Paris,  to  Vidus  Brosseus,  a 
famous  Physician,  the  chief  storer  of  the  King's  Garden,  and 
principal  shewer  thereof.  .  .  . 

I  say  nothing  of  the  broad-leaved  Myrtle,  with  the  full  flower 
of  the  Storax,  and  Lentise-Tree,  which  yields  Mastick  :  and  other 
plants  mentioned  before.  Much  lesse  shall  I  speak  of  the  great 
American  Gelsemine,  with  the  Crimson-coloured  flower,  not  of  the 


PIERRE  GASSENDI  91 

Persian,  with  a  violet-coloured  flower,  nor  the  Arabian  with  a  full 
flower :  of  the  Orenge-Trees,  with  a  red  and  particoloured  flower ; 
of  the  Medlar  and  soure  Cherry  without  stones  ;  Ada?)is  Fig-Tree, 
whose  fruit  Peireskius  conceived  to  be  one  of  those  which  the 
spies  brought  back,  that  went  to  view  the  Land  of  Canaan ;  the 
rare  Vines  which  he  had  from  Tunis,  Smyrna,  Sidon,  Damascus, 
Nova  Francia,  and  other  places.  Least  of  all  shall  I  stand  to 
speak  of  the  care  he  took  in  ordering  his  Knots,  and  planting 
his  trees  in  such  order,  as  to  afford  even  walks  every  way  between 
them ;  in  bringing  the  water  every  where  into  his  Gardens ;  in 
providing  that  the  tenderer  sort  of  Plants  might  receive  no 
dammage  by  the  Winters  cold,  in  sending  for  the  most  skilful 
Florists,  to  furnish  himself  with  all  variety  of  Flowers  :  in  a 
word,  omitting  nothing  that  might  beautifie  and  adorn  his 
Grounds. — The  Mirrour  of  True  Nobility  and  Geiitility  being 
the  Life  of  The  Renoivned  Nicolatis  Claudius  Fabricius  Lord  of 
Peiresk^  Senator  of  the  Parliament  at  Aix.  Englished  by  W. 
Ra?id,  Doctor  of  Physick.     London,   1657.^ 

1  Nicolas  de  Peiresc,  born  hi  Province  in  1580,  was  one  of  the  greatest  patrons 
of  letters.  The  friend  of  De  Thou  and  Isaac  Casanbon,  he  was  called  by  Bayle 
"  Le  Proctireiir  Gindralde  la  Litt^rature"  In  1605  he  catne  to  Etigland  in  the 
sjiite  of  La  Boderie,  the  French  Ambassador,  and  visited  Oxford,  where  he 
became  intimate  with  Selden,  Ca??iden,  Sir  Robert  Cotton  and  Sir  Henry 
Saville.  Scaliger,  Holstensiiis  and  Sauinaise  were  aided  by  hifn  with  presents 
of  books,  and  at  his  instigation  Grotiiis  wrote  his  great  work  "  De  fure  Belli  et 
Pads." 

' '  He  kept  up  a  noble  traffic  with  all  travellers,  supplying  them  with  philo- 
sophical instruments  and  recent  inventions  .  .  .  it  was  the  curiosity  of  Peiresc 
which  fust  embellished  his  own  garden,  and  thence  the  gardens  of  Europe  with 
a  rich  variety  of  exotic  flowers  and  fruits  .  .  .  The  correspotidence  of  Peiresc 
branched  out  to  the  farthest  bounds  of  Ethiopia,  connected  both  Ainericas,  and 
had  touched  the  newly  discovered  extremities  of  the  Universe." — I.  Disraeli. 

He  died  in  the  arms  of  his  biographer,  Pierre  Gassendi,  on  the  2i,th  ftme 

1637- 

Isaac  Disraeli  thus  speaks  of  this  Biography : — "^  moving  picture  of  the 
literary  life  of  a  f>ian  of  letters,  who  was  no  author,  would  have  been  lost  to  us, 
had  not  Peiresc  found  ?'«  Gassendi  a  twin  spirit."  When  are  we  to  have 
a  reprint  of  this  Life  ^' of  that  incomparable  Virtuoso,'^  as  Evelyn  called  Peiresc  ? 


92  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

JAMES  Educated  at  Oxford ;  travelled  abroad  as  agent  for  first  glass  manufactory 

HO\A/ELL   established  in  England  ;  later  M.P.  and  one  of  the  Clerks  of  the  Privy  Council 

'    595"iooo;.     ^^  Charles  I.  ;  Secretary  to  British  Am/iassador  in  Denmark  ;  imprisoned  in 

Fleet  and  released  by  Cromwell ;   Historiographer  to  Charles  //.  ;  author  of 

"  Dodonas  Givve"  atid  ^^ Epistoht  Ho-Eliana."     {Familiar  Letters  off.  II.) 

'X*HE  stables  (at  Lord  Savage's  House  in  Long-Melford)  butt 
*■  upon  the  Park,  which  for  a  cheerful  rising  Ground,  for 
Groves  and  Browsings  for  the  Deer,  for  rivulets  of  water,  may 
compare  with  any  for  its  highness  in  the  whole  land ;  it  is 
opposite  to  the  front  of  the  great  House,  whence  from  the 
Gallery  one  may  see  much  of  the  Game  when  they  are  a-hunt- 
ing.  Now  for  the  gardening  and  costly  choice  Flowers,  for 
Ponds,  for  stately  large  Walks,  green  and  gravelly,  for  Orchards 
and  choice  Fruits  of  all  sorts,  there  are  few  the  like  in  England  : 
here  you  have  your  Bo}i  Christia?i  Pear,  and  Bergamot  in  per- 
fection, your  Muscadei  grapes  in  such  plenty,  that  there  are 
bottles  of  Wine  sent  every  year  to  the  King;  and  one  Mr 
Dafiiel,  a  worthy  Gentleman  hard  by,  who,  with  him  long 
abroad,  makes  good  store  in  his  Vintage.  Truly  this  House 
of  Long-Melford  though  it  be  not  so  great,  yet  it  is  so  well 
compacted  and  contrived  with  such  dainty  conveniences  every 
way,  that  if  you  saw  the  Landskip  of  it,  you  would  be  mightily 
taken  with  it,  and  it  would  serve  for  a  choice  pattern  to  build 
and  contrive  a  House  by. — (Letter  to  Dan.  Caldivell,  Esq., 
2oth  May  162 1). 

— 'AAA''— 

SIR  A  Parliamentary  General  in  the  Civil  Wars,  originally  of  the  same  family 

WILLIAM  as  Edmund  Waller  the  poet. 

WALLER 

(1597- 1668).     ITE  that  walkes  with  God  can  never  want  a  good  ivalke,  and 

^  •*     good  company.     There  is  no  garden  well  contrived,  but  that 
which  hath  an  Enoch's  walk  1  in  it. 

How  cleanly  are  these  Allies  kept  ?  and  how  orderly  are  the 
Hedges  cut,  and  the  Trees  pruned  and  nailed,  and  not  an  irregular 

^  "Enoch  walked  with  God  300  years." — Gen.  v.  22. 


SIR  WILLIAM  WALLER  93 

Twig  left  ?  there  is  no  such  care  taken  for  the  weeds,  and  bushes 
and  brambles  that  grow  abroad.  God  is  careful  to  preserve  the 
Garden  of  his  Church  in  all  decency  and  order;  and  will  not  suffer 
it  to  be  overgrown  with  errours  ox  prophaness ;  but  is  (like  a  good 
Husbandman,  if  I  may  say  so  with  all  humbleness)  ever  at  work 
about  it ;  either  weeding  out,  what  his  heavenly  hand  hath  not 
planted;  or  if  need  be,  lopping,  and  cutting  off  luxuriant  branches, 
that  bear  not  fruit ;  or  purging  those  that  do  bear,  that  they  may 
bring  forth  more,  fruit. — Divine  Meditations  {Upon  the  sight  of  a 
pleasant  Gardeft). 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  FORMAL  GARDEN  IN  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  UNDER 
FRENCH  AND  DUTCH  INFLUENCE  :  ORIENTAL  TRAVELLERS 
ON    PERSIAN    AND   JAPANESE   GARDENS. 

SIR  pOR  though  Physick  may  plead  high,  from  that  medical  act  of 

BROWNE  God,  in  casting  so  deep  a  sleep  upon  our  first  Parent ;  And 

(1605- 1682).  Chirurgery  find  its  whole  Art,  in  that  one  passage  concerning  the 
Rib  of  Adam :  yet  is  there  no  rivality  with  Garden-contrivance 
and  Herbery.  For  if  Paradise  were  planted  the  third  day  of 
the  Creation  as  wiser  Divinity  concludeth,  the  Nativity  thereof 
was  too  early  for  Horoscopie  :  Gardens  were  before  Gardiners, 
and  but  some  hours  after  the  Earth.  Of  deeper  doubt  is  its 
topography  and  local  designation  ;  yet  being  the  primitive  garden, 
and  without  much  controversy  seated  in  the  East  it  is  more  than 
probable  the  first  curiosity,  and  cultivation  of  plants,  most 
flourished  in  those  quarters.  .  .  . 

However,  the  account  of  the  pensile  or  hanging  gardens  of 
Babylon,  if  made  by  Semiramis,  the  third  or  fourth  from  Nimrod, 
is  of  no  slender  antiquity ;  which  being  not  framed  upon  ordinary 
level  of  ground,  but  raised  upon  pillars,  admitting  under-passages, 
we  cannot  accept  as  the  first  Babylonian  gardens, — but  a  more 
eminent  progress  and  advancement  in  that  art  than  any  that  went 
before  it ;  somewhat  answering  or  hinting  the  old  opinion  con- 
cerning Paradise  itself,  with  many  conceptions  elevated  above  the 
plane  of  the  Earth. ^     Nabuchodonosor  (whom  some  will  have  to 

'  Simon  Wilkin,  the  editor  of  Browne's  Works,  quotes  a  passage  from  MS. 
Sloan,  1847,  which  he  thinks  intended  for  this  work,  wherein  Browne  writes, 
"We  are  unwilling  to  diminish  or  loose  the  credit  of  Paradise,  or  only  pass  it 
over  with  (the  Hebrew  word  for)  Eden,  though  the  Greek  be  of  a  later  name. 
In  this  excepted,  we  know  not  whether  the  ancient  gardens  do  equal  those  of 
late  times,  or  those  at  present  in  Europe.  Of  the  Garden  of  Hesperies,  we 
know  nothing  singular  but  some  golden  apples." 

94 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  95 

be  the  famous  Syrian  King  of  Diodorus)  beautifully  repaired  that 
city,  and  so  magnificently  built  his  hanging  gardens,^  that  from 
succeeding  writers  he  had  the  honour  of  the  first.  From  whence, 
overlooking  Babylon,  and  all  the  region  about  it,  he  found  no 
circumscription  to  the  eye  of  his  ambition ;  till,  over-delighted 
with  the  bravery  of  this  Paradise,  in  his  melancholy  metamor- 
phosis he  found  the  folly  of  that  delight,  and  a  proper  punishment 
in  the  contrary  habitation — in  wild  plantations  and  wanderings 
of  the  fields.  The  Persian  gallants,  who  destroyed  this  mon- 
archy, maintained  their  botanical  bravery.  Unto  whom  we 
owe  the  very  name  of  Paradise,  wherewith  we  meet  not  in 
Scripture  before  the  time  of  Solomon,  and  conceived  origin- 
ally Persian.  The  word  for  that  disputed  garden,  expressing, 
in  the  Hebrew,  no  more  than  a  field  enclosed,  which  from  the 
same  root  is  content  to  derive  a  garden  and  a  buckler. — The 
Garden  of  Cyrus,  or  the  QuincimciaV^  Lozenge^  or  Net-work 
Plantations  of  the  Aficients.  Artificially,  Naturally,  Mystically 
considered? 

^  Josephus. 

^  Quid  quincunce  speciosius,  qui  in  quanicunque  partem  spectaveris,  rectus 
est.  —  Quintilian. 

^  The  Garden  of  Cyrus,  though  it  ends  indeed  with  a  passage  of  wonderful 
felicity,  certainly  emphasises  (to  say  the  least)  the  defects  of  Browne's  literary 
good  qualities.  His  chimeric  fancy  carries  him  here  into  a  kind  of  frivolous- 
ness,  as  if  he  felt  almost  too  safe  with  his  public,  and  were  himself  not  quite 
serious  or  dealing  fairly  with  it ;  and  in  a  writer  such  as  Browne,  levity  must 
of  necessity  be  a  little  ponderous.  Still,  like  one  of  those  stiff  gardens,  half- 
way between  the  medieval  garden  and  the  true  '  English  '  garden  of  Temple  or 
Walpole,  actually  to  be  seen  in  the  background  of  some  of  the  conventional 
portraits  of  that  day,  the  fantasies  of  this  indescribable  exposition  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  quincunx  form  part  of  the  complete  portrait  of  Browne 
himself ;  and  it  is  in  connection  with  it  that  once  or  twice  the  quaintly 
delightful  pen  of  Evelyn  comes  into  the  correspondence  in  connexion  with 
the  'hortulane  pleasure' — "Norwich"  he  writes  to  Browne,  "is  a  place  I 
understand  much  addicted  to  the  flowery  poet."  Professing  himself  a  believer 
in  the  operation  "of  the  air  and  genius  of  gardens  upon  human  spirits,  towards 
virtue  and  sanctity"  he  is  all  for  natural  gardens  as  against  "those  which 
appear  like  gardens  of  paste-board  and  march-pane,  and  smell  more  of  paint 
than  of  flowers  and  verdure." — Walter  Pater,  '  Appreciations.'' 


96  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

FrotJt  the  Epistle  Dedicatory,  to  Nicholas  Bacon,  of  Tillingham, 
Esquire.— The.  Turks  who  past  their  days  in  gardens  here,  will 
have  also  gardens  hereafter,  and  delighting  in  flowers  on  earth, 
must  have  lilies  and  loses  in  heaven.  In  garden  delights  'tis  not 
easy  to  hold  a  mediocrity ;  that  insinuating  pleasure  is  seldom 
without  some  extremity.  The  ancients  venially  delighted  in 
flourishing  gardens ;  many  were  florists  that  knew  not  the  true 
use  of  a  flower ;  and  in  Pliny's  days  none  had  directly  treated  of 
that  subject.  Some  commendably  affected  plantations  of  venemous 
vegetables,  some  confined  their  delights  unto  single  plants,  and 
Cato  seemed  to  dote  upon  Cabbage ;  while  the  ingenuous  delight 
of  tulipists  stands  saluted  with  hard  language,  even  by  their  own 
professors.!  That  in  this  garden  discourse,  we  range  into 
extraneous  things,  and  many  parts  of  art  and  nature,  we  follow 
herein  the  example  of  old  and  new  plantations,  wherein  noble 
spirits  contented  not  themselves  with  trees,  but  by  the  attendance 
of  aviaries,  fish-ponds,  and  all  variety  of  animals,  they  made  their 
gardens  the  epitome  of  the  earth,  and  some  resemblance  of  the 
secular  shows  of  old.  .  . 

Since  the  verdant  state  of  things  is  the  symbol  of  the  resurrection, 
and  to  flourish  in  the  state  of  glory,  we  must  first  be  sown  in 
corruption  : — besides  the  ancient  practice  of  noble  persons,  to 
conclude  in  garden-graves,  and  urns  themselves  of  old  to  be 
wrapt  up  with  flowers  and  garlands. 

-wWV/— 

JOHN  A  ^^  which  is  the  worthiest  work  of  these  two,  to  plant  as  every 

MILTON   ■'»•     minister's  office  is  equally  with  the  bishops,  or  to  tend  that 
{I  o  -i  74j.  ^}^j^,j^  jg  planted,  which  the  blind  and  undiscerning  prelates  call 

Jurisdiction  and  would  appropriate  to  themselves  as  a  business  of 

higher  dignity  ? 

Have  patience  therefore  and  hear  a  law-case.     A  certain  man 

of  large  possessions  had  a  fair  garden,  and  kept  therein  an  honest 

and  laborious  servant,  whose  skill  and  profession  was  to  set  or 

^  "  Tulipo-mania  ; "  Nairencruiid,  Laurenberg.  Pet.  Ilondius  in  lib.  Belg. 


JOHN  MILTON  97 

sow  all  wholesome  herbs,  and  delightful  flowers  according  to  every 
season,  and  whatever  else  was  to  be  done  in  a  well-husbanded 
nursery  of  plants  and  fruits.  Now,  when  the  time  was  come  that 
he  should  cut  his  hedges,  prune  his  trees,  look  to  his  tender  slips, 
and  pluck  up  the  weeds  that  hindered  their  growth,  he  gets  him 
up  by  break  of  day,  and  makes  account  to  do  what  was  needful 
in  his  garden ;  and  who  would  think  that  any  other  should  know 
better  than  he  how  the  day's  work  was  to  be  spent  ?  Yet  for  all 
this  there  comes  another  strange  gardener  that  never  knew  the 
soil,  never  handled  a  dibble  or  spade  to  set  the  least  pot-herb 
that  grew  there,  much  less  had  endured  an  hour's  sweat  or 
chilness,  and  yet  challenges  as  his  right  the  binding  or  unbinding 
of  every  flower,  the  clipping  of  every  bush,  the  weeding  and 
worming  of  every  bed,  both  in  that  and  all  other  gardens 
thereabout.  The  honest  gardener,  that  ever  since  the  day-peep, 
till  now  the  sun  was  grown  somewhat  rank,  had  wrought  painfully 
about  his  banks  and  seed-plots,  at  his  commanding  voice  turns 
suddenly  about  with  some  wonder ;  and  although  he  could  have 
well  beteemed  to  have  thanked  him  of  the  ease  he  proffered,  yet 
loving  his  own  handywork,  modestly  refused  him,  telling  him 
withal,  that  for  his  part,  if  he  had  thought  much  of  his  own  pains, 
he  could  for  once  have  committed  the  work  to  one  of  his  fellow- 
labourers,  for  as  much  as  it  is  well  known  to  be  a  matter  of  less 
skill  and  less  labour  to  keep  a  garden  handsome,  than  it  is  to 
plant  it  or  contrive  it,  and  that  he  had  already  performed  himself. 
No,  said  the  stranger,  this  is  neither  for  you  nor  your  fellows  to 
meddle  with,  but  for  me  only  that  am  for  this  purpose  in  dignity 
far  above  you  ;  and  the  provision  which  the  Lord  of  the  soil 
allows  me  in  this  office  is,  and  that  with  good  reason,  tenfold 
your  wages.  The  gardener  smiled  and  shook  his  head  ;  but  what 
was  determined,  I  cannot  tell  you  till  the  end  of  this  parliament. 
— Anwiadversions  upon  the  Rononstranf  s  Defence  against 
Smectymnuus. 

— ^WVv — 
G 


98  THE  PRAISE  OF  CxARDENS 

THOMAS  1631,  Fellow  of  Sidney  Sussex  College  ;  Lecturer  at  the  Savoy.  \6t,(),  pub- 
FULLER  lished  his  '  History  of  the  Holy  War.'  1648,  rector  of  Waltham  Abbey,  and 
(1608-1661).  (j^g  ^^,n^  y^^^  published  his  '  Holy  State.''  1653,  joined  the  King  at  Oxford 
and  preached  before  him  at  St  Marys  Church.  During  his  residence  at  Lincoln 
College,  he  was  sequestered  and  lost  all  his  books  and  MS.  He  attended  the 
Royal  Army  from  place  to  place  as  Chaplain  to  Lord  Hopton,  animated  the 
garrison  of  Basing  House,  and  forced  Sir  fVilliam  Waller  to  raise  the  siege. 
1655,  published  '  Church  History  of  Britain''  and  '  History  of  the  University 
of  Cambridge.'  1660,  created  D.D.  at  Cambridge  ;  chaplain  extraordinary  to 
the  King.  1662,  his  '^  History  of  the  Worthies  of  England,'  which  had 
occupied  him  through  his  life,  was  published  posthumously. 

WITHIN  this  circuit  of  ground,  there  is  still  extant,  by  the 
rare  preservation  of  the  owner,  a  small  Scantlin  of  some 
three  Acres,  which  I  might  call  the  Tempe  of  Tempe,  and  re- 
epitomiz'd  the  delicacies  of  all  the  rest.  It  was  divided  into 
a  Garden,  in  the  upper  Part  whereof  Flowers  did  grow,  in  the 
lower,  Hearbs,  and  those  of  all  sorts  and  kinds.  And  now  in 
the  springtime  earth  did  put  on  her  new  cloathes,  though  had 
some  cunning  Herald  beheld  the  same,  he  would  have  con- 
demned her  Coate  to  have  been  of  no  antient  bearing,  it  was 
so  overcharged  with  variety  of  Colours. 

For  there  v^as  yellow  Marigolds,  \Vallflowers,  Auriculiisses,  Gold 
Knobs,  and  abundance  of  other  namelesse  Flowers,  which  would 
pose  a  Nomenclator  to  call  them  by  their  distinct  denominations. 
There  was  White,  the  Dayes  Eye,  white  roses,  Lilly ei,  etc..  Blew, 
Violet,  Irisse,  Red  Roses,  Pionies,  etc.  The  whole  field  was 
vert  or  greene,  and  all  colours  were  present  save  sable,  as  too 
sad  and  dolefull  for  so  merry  a  meeting.  All  the  Children  of 
Flora  being  summoned  there,  to  make  their  appearance  at  a 
great  solemnity. 

Nor  was  the  lower  part  of  the  ground  lesse  stored  with  herbs, 
and  those  so  various,  that  if  Gerard  himself  had  bin  in  the  place, 
upon  the  beholding  thereof  he  must  have  been  forced  to  a  re- 
edition  of  his  Herball,  to  adde  the  recruit  of  those  Plants,  which 
formerly  were  unseen  by  him,  or  unknown  unto  him. 

In  this  solemn  Randevouz  of  Flowers  and  Herbs,  the  Rose 
stood  forth,  and  made  an  Oration  to  this  efifect. 


THOMAS  FULLER  99 

It  is  not  unknown  to  you,  how  I  have  the  precedency  of  all 
Flowers,  confirmed  unto  me  under  the  Patent  of  a  double  Sence, 
Sight,  smell.  What  more  curious  Colours'^  how  do  all  Diers 
blush,  when  they  behold  my  blushing  as  conscious  to  themselves 
that  their  Art  cannot  imitate  that  tincture,  which  Nature  hath 
stamped  upon  me.  Smell,  it  is  not  lusciously  ojfetisive,  nor 
dangerously  Faint,  but  comforteth  with  a  delight,  and  delighteth 
with  the  comfort  thereof:  Yea,  when  Dead,  I  am  more  Sover- 
aigne  then  Living:  What  Cordials  are  made  of  my  Syrups? 
how  many  corrupted  Lungs  (those  Fans  of  Nature)  sore  wasted 
with  consumption  that  they  seem  utterly  unable  any  longer  to 
cool  the  heat  of  the  Heart,  with  their  ventilation,  are  with 
Conserves  made  of  my  stamped  Leaves,  restored  to  their  former 
soundnesse  againe :  More  would  I  say  in  mine  own  cause,  but 
that  happily  I  may  be  taxed  of  pride,  and  selfe-flattery,  who 
speak  much  in  mine  own  behalf,  and  therefore  I  leave  the  rest 
to  the  judgment  of  such  as  hear  me,  and  pass  from  this  discourse 
to  my  just  complaint. 

There  is  lately  a  Flower  (shal  I  call  it  so  ?  in  courtesie  I  will 
tearme  it  so,  though  it  deserve  not  the  appellation)  a  Toolip,  which 
hath  engrafted  the  love  and  affections  of  most  people  unto  it ; 
and  what  is  this  Toolip?  a  well  complexion'd  stink,  an  ill  favour 
wrapt  up  in  pleasant  colours ;  as  for  the  use  thereof  in  Physick, 
no  Physitian  hath  honoured  it  yet  with  the  mention,  nor  with  a 
Greek,  or  Latin  name,  so  inconsiderable  hath  it  hitherto  been 
accompted  ;  and  yet  this  is  that  which  filleth  all  Gardens,  hundred 
of  pounds  being  given  for  the  root  thereof,  whilst  I  the  Rose,  am 
neglected  and  contemned,  and  conceived  beneath  the  honour  of 
noble  hands,  and  fit  only  to  grow  in  the  gardens  of  Yeomen.  I 
trust  the  remainder  to  your  apprehensions,  to  make  out  that  which 
grief  for  such  undeserved  injuries  will  not  suffer  me  to  expresse. 
— Antheologia,  or  The  Speech  of  Flowers :  partly  Morall,  partly 
Misticall  (1660). 

Gardening  was  first  brought  into  England  for  profit  about 
seventy    years    ago,    before    which    we    fetched    most    of    our 


loo  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

cherries  from  Flanders,  apples  from  France,  and  had  hardly  a 
mess  of  rathe-ripe  pease  but  from  Holland,  which  were  dainties 
for  ladies,  they  came  so  far  and  cost  so  dear.  Since,  gardening 
hath  crept  out  of  Holland  to  Sandwich,  Kent,  and  thence  into 
this  county  (Surrey),  where  though  they  have  given  six  pounds 
an  aker  and  upward,  they  have  made  their  rent,  lived  comfortably, 
and  set  many  people  on  work.  Oh,  the  incredible  profit  by 
digging  of  ground  ! — for  though  it  be  confessed  that  the  plough 
beats  the  spade  out  of  distance  for  speed  (almost  as  much  as  the 
press  beats  the  pen),  yet  what  the  spade  wants  in  the  quantity 
of  the  ground  it  manureth,  it  recompenseth  with  the  plenty  of 
the  fruit  it  yieldeth,  that  is  set  multiplying  a  hundredfold  more 
than  that  which  is  sown.  'Tis  incredible  how  many  poor  people 
in  London  live  therein,  so  that,  in  some  seasons,  the  Gardens 
feed  more  people  than  the  field. — History  of  the  Worthies  oj 
England  (1662). 

— ftA/W" — 


ABRAHAM  'T~^HE  three  first  men  in  the  world,  were  a  Gardiner,  a  Plough- 

F9^^?y  man,  and  a  Grazier  :  and  if  any  man  object,  that  the  second 

(1618-1667).       ^   ,  '  ,          \  ,    .       /     ,         ■'  , ,'         . ,       , 

of  these  was  a  murtherer,  I  desire  that  he  would  consider  that  as 

soon  as  he  was  so,  he  quitted  our  profession,  and  turned  builder. 

— Of  Agriculture. 

I  never  had  any  other  desire  so  strong,  and  so  like  to  covetous- 
ness,  as  that  one  which  I  have  had  always,  that  I  might  be  master 
at  last  of  a  small  house  and  large  Garden,  with  very  moderate 
conveniences  joined  to  them,  and  there  dedicate  the  remainder 
of  my  life  only  to  the  culture  of  them  and  study  of  nature, 

'  And  there  (with  no  design  beyond  my  wall)  whole  and  intire  to  lie, 
In  no  unactive  ease,  and  no  unglorious  poverty. ' 

Or  as  Virgil  has  said,  shorter  and  better  for  me,  that  I  might 
there 

'  Studiis  florere  ignobilis  otii ' : 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY  loi 

(though  I  could  wish  that  he  had  rather  said,  *  Nobilis  otii,'  when 
he  spoke  of  his  own).  But  several  accidents  of  my  ill  fortune 
have  disappointed  me  hitherto,  and  do  still,  of  that  felicity ;  for 
though  I  have  made  the  first  and  hardest  step  to  it,  by  abandon- 
ing all  ambitions  and  hopes  in  this  world,  and  by  retiring  from 
the  noise  of  all  business  and  almost  company,  yet  I  stick  still  in 
the  inn  of  a  hired  house  and  garden,  among  weeds  and  rubbish; 
and  without  that  pleasantest  work  of  human  industry,  the  im- 
provement of  something  which  we  call  (not  very  properly,  but 
yet  we  call)  our  own.  I  am  gone  out  from  Sodom,  but  I  am 
not  yet  arrived  at  my  little  Zoar.  '  O  let  me  escape  thither  (is 
it  not  a  httle  one?)  and  my  soul  shall  live.'  I  do  not  look  back 
yet ;  but  I  have  been  forced  to  stop,  and  make  too  many  halts. 
.  .  .  Among  many  other  arts  and  excellencies,  which  you  enjoy, 
I  am  glad  to  find  this  favourite  of  mine  the  most  predominant ; 
that  you  choose  this  for  your  wife,  though  you  have  hundreds  of 
other  arts  for  your  concubines ;  though  you  know  them,  and  beget 
sons  upon  them  all  (to  which  you  are  rich  enough  to  allow  great 
legacies),  yet  the  issue  of  this  seems  to  be  designed  by  you  to  the 
main  of  the  estate.  You  have  taken  most  pleasure  in  it,  and 
bestowed  most  charges  upon  its  education  :  and  I  doubt  not  to 
see  that  book  which  you  are  pleased  to  promise  to  the  world, 
and  of  which  you  have  given  us  a  large  earnest  in  your  Calendar,^ 
as  accomplished  as  any  thing  can  be  expected  from  an  extra- 
ordinary wit,  and  no  ordinary  expenses,  and  a  long  experience. 
I  know  nobody  that  possesses  more  private  happiness  than  you  do 
in  your  Garden  j  and  yet  no  man,  who  makes  his  happiness  more 
public,  by  a  free  communication  of  the  heart,  and  knowledge  of 
it  to  others.  All  that  I  myself  am  able  yet  to  do,  is  only  to 
recommend  to  mankind  the  search  of  that  felicity,  which  you 
instruct  them  how  to  find  and  to  enjoy. — The  Garden.  {To  J. 
Evelyn,  Esq.) 

^  Mr  Evelyn's  '  Calendarium  Hortense,'  dedicated  to  Mr  Cowley. 


I02 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


SAMUEL  Frieftd  of  Milton ;  son  of  a  Polish  Merchant.     1628,  came  to  Enidand.     1644, 

(J     f.     s"  Milton  addressed  to  him  his  treatise  on  Education,  he  having  introduced  the 

writings  of  Comefiiiis.     1646,  was  pensioned  by  Parliament  for  his  works  on 
Husbandry.     1 65  5,  Evelyn  describes  a  visit  to  him. 

He  wrote  juatiy  pamphlets  on  education  and  husbandry,  (inter  alia)  '  A 
Discojirse  of  Hiisbatidry  tised  in  Brabant  and  Flanders ' ;  '  An  Essay  for 
Advancement  of  Husbandry  Learning  or  Propositions  for  err ec ting  a  Colledge 
of  Hjtsbandry  ' ;  '  The  Reformed  Husbandman  ' ;  ^ His  Legacy  '  ;  '  Coruu  Copia^ 
and  '  The  Compleat  Husband-man.' 

A  BOUT  50  years  ago,  about  which  time  Ingenuities  first  began 
-**•  to  flourish  in  England;  this  Art  of  Garde?iifig,  began  to 
creep  into  England,  into  Sandwich,  and  Surrey,  Fulham,  and 
other  places. 

Some  old  men  in  Surrey,  where  it  flourisheth  very  much  at 
present,  report,  That  they  knew  the  first  Gardiners  that  came 
into  those  parts,  to  plant  Cabages,  CoHeflowers,  and  to  sowe 
Turneps,  Garrets,  and  Parsnips,  to  sowe  Raith  or  (early  ripe) 
Rape,  Pease,  all  which  at  that  time  were  great  rarities,  we 
having  few,  or  none  in  England,  but  what  came  from  Holland 
and  Flatiders.  These  Gardiners  with  much  ado  procured  a 
plot  of  good  ground,  and  gave  no  lesse  than  8  pound  per 
Acre;  yet  the  Gentleman  was  not  content,  fearing  they  would 
spoil  his  ground ;  because  they  did  use  to  dig  it.  So  ignorant 
were  we  of  Gardening  in  those  dayes. — The  Compleat  Husband- 
man (1659.) 

ANDRE  The  Grand  Gardener  of  the  Grand  Monarch. 

LE  NOTRE  Rueil,  created  by  Richelieu  [or  the  Boboli  gardens  at  Florence),  said  to  have 
{1612-1700).  suggested  the  Versailles  garden  to  Le  Notre  ;  the  Pare  de  Vaux  began  his  reputa- 
tion ;  he  executed  Versailles  and  Chantilly  together  for  Condd ;  the  terrace  at 
Fontaitiebleau  was  his  design.  He  worked  at  the  Chateau  de  Meudon  for  the 
Due  de  Chart  res,  at  St  Cloud  for  Fouquet,  and  for  Colbert  at  the  '  Pare  de 
Sceaux. ' 

C  AINT  SIMON  wrote  his  epitaph  :— 

^     "  After  living  88  years  in  perfect  health,  with  his  intellect 

untouched,  and  all  his  judgment  and  good  taste  undiminished,  he 

^  See  Portrait  of  Le  Notre  and  Illustrations  and  description  of  Versailles  in 
Appendix. 


JOHN  EVELYN  103 

died,  illustrious  for  having  the  first  designed  those  beautiful  gardens, 
which  decorate  France.  Le  Notre  possessed  a  probity,  an  exact- 
ness and  uprightness,  which  made  him  valued  and  loved  by 
every  one.  He  worked  for  private  individuals  and  for  the  King 
with  the  same  industry :  his  only  thought  was  to  aid  Nature, 
and  to  reduce  the  truly  beautiful  to  the  lowest  cost.  All  he 
did  is  still  far  beyond  what  has  been  done  since,  whatever 
pains  have  been  taken  to  copy  him." — Meitwirs. 

■  \  A/E  visited  the   Haff  or   Prince's   Court  at  the  Hague,  with  JOHN 
^  ^      the   adjoining    gardens,    which   were   full    of    ornament,  (\l^^^^^ 
close-walks,    statues,    marbles,    grotts,    fountains,    and    artificiall  ' 
musiq,  etc.  .  .  . 

From  hence  we  walked  into  the  Parke,  which  for  being  entirely  Bruxelles. 
within  the  walls  of  the  city  is  particularly  remarkable;  nor  is  it  "      '^^' 

less  pleasant  than  if  in  the  most  solitary  recesses,  so  naturally  is 
it  furnish'd  with  whatever  may  render  it  agreeable,  melancholy, 
and  country-like.  Here  is  a  stately  heronry,  divers  springs  of 
water,  artificial  cascades,  rocks,  grotts,  one  whereof  is  composed 
of  the  extravagant  rootes  of  trees  cunningly  built  and  hung 
together.     In  this  Parke  are  both  fallow  and  red  deare. 

From  hence  we  were  lead  into  the  Manege,  and  out  of  that 
into  a  most  sweet  and  delicious  garden,  where  was  another  grott, 
of  more  neat  and  costly  materials,  full  of  noble  statues,  and 
entertaining  us  with  artificial  musiq;  but  the  hedge  of  water,  in 
forme  of  lattice-worke,  which  the  fontainer  caused  to  ascend  out 
of  the  earth  by  degrees  exceedingly  pleased  and  supris'd  me,  for 
thus  with  a  previous  wall,  or  rather  a  palisad  hedge,  of  waters, 
was  the  whole  parterre  environ'd. 

There  is  likewise  a  faire  Aviary,  and  in  the  Court  next  it  are 
kept  divers  sorts  of  animals,  rare  and  exotic  fowle,  as  eagles,  cranes, 
storks,  bustards,  pheasants  of  several  kinds,  a  duck  having  four 
wings,  etc.  In  another  division  of  the  same  close,  are  rabbits  of 
an  almost  perfect  yellow  colour. 


I04  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

P^^s.  I  took  coach  and  went  to  see  the  famous  Jardine  Royale,  which 

'  ■  ■  is  an  enclosure  walled  in,  consisting  of  all  varieties  of  ground  for 
planting  and  culture  of  medical  simples.  It  is  well  chosen,  having 
in  it  hills,  meadows,  wood  and  upland,  naturall  and  artificial  and 
is  richly  stor'd  with  exotic  plants.  In  the  middle  of  the  Parterre 
is  a  faire  fountaine. 

In  another  more  privat  garden  towards  the  Queene's  apart- 
ment is  a  walk  or  cloister  under  arches,  whose  terrace  is 
paved  with  stones  of  a  great  breadth ;  it  looks  towards  the 
river,  and  has  a  pleasant  aviary,  fountaine,  stately  cypresses, 
etc.  .  .  . 
The  I  finished  this  day  with  a  walk  in  the  great  garden  of  the 

1644^  Feb%7  Thuilleries,  which  is  rarely  contrived  for  privacy,  shade,  or 
company,  by  groves,  plantations  of  tall  trees,  especially  that  in 
the  middle,  being  of  elmes,  another  of  mulberys.  There  is  a 
labyrinth  of  cypresse,  noble  hedges  of  pomegranates,  fountains, 
fishponds,  and  an  aviary.  Here  is  an  artificial  echo,  redoubling 
the  words  distinctly,  and  it  is  never  without  some  faire  nymph 
singing  to  it.  Standing  at  one  of  the  focus's,  which  is  under  a 
tree,  or  little  cabinet  of  hedges,  the  voice  seems  to  descend  from 
the  clouds ;  at  another,  as  if  it  were  underground.  This  being  at 
the  bottom  of  the  garden,  we  were  let  into  another  which  being 
kept  with  all  imaginable  accuratenesse  as  to  the  orangery,  precious 
shrubes,  and  rare  fruites  seem'd  a  paradise.  From  a  terrace  in 
this  place  we  saw  so  many  coaches,  as  one  would  hardly  think 
could  be  maintained  in  the  whole  City,  going,  late  as  it  was  in 
the  year,  towards  the  course,  which  is  a  place  adjoyning,  of  neere 
an  English  mile  long,  planted  with  four  rows  of  trees,  making  a 
large  circle  in  the  middle.  This  course  is  walled  about,  neere 
breast  high,  with  squared  freestone,  and  has  a  stately  arch  at  the 
entrance,  with  sculpture  and  statues  about  it,  built  by  Mary  di 
Medices.  Here  it  is  that  the  gallants  and  ladys  of  the  Court  take 
the  ayre  and  divert  themselves,  as  with  us  in  Hide  Park,  the  circle 
being  capable  of  containing  an  hundred  coaches  to  turne  com- 
modiously,  and  the  larger  of  the  plantations  for  five  or  six  coaches 
a  brest. 


JOHN  EVELYN  105 

...  By  the  way  we  alighted  at  St  Cloes,  where,  on  an  St  Cloud, 
eminence  neere  the  river,  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  has  a  garden, 
for  the  house  is  not  very  considerable,  rarely  watered  and  furnish'd 
with  fountaines,  statues,  and  groves,  the  walkes  are  very  faire  ;  the 
fountain  of  Laocoon  is  in  a  large  square  pool,  throwing  the  water 
neere  40  feet  high,  and  having  about  it  a  multitude  of  statues  and 
basins,  and  is  a  suprising  object :  but  nothing  is  more  esteem'd 
than  the  cascade  falling  from  the  greate  stepps  into  the  lowest 
and  longest  walke  from  the  Mount  Parnassus,  which  consists  of  a 
grotto,  or  shell  house,  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  wherein  are 
divers  water-workes  and  contrivances,  to  wet  the  spectators ;  this 
is  covered  with  a  fayre  cupola,  the  walls  paynted  with  the  Muses, 
and  statues  placed  thick  about  it,  whereof  some  are  antiq  and 
good.  In  the  upper  walkes  are  two  perspectives,  seeming  to 
enlarge  the  allys.     In  this  garden  are  many  other  contrivances. 

About  a  league  further  we  went  to  see  Cardinal  Richelieu's  Rueil. 
villa  at  Ruell.     The  house  is  small,  but  fairly  built,  in  form  of 
a  castle,  moated  round.     The  offices  are  towards  the  road,  and 
over  against  are  large  vineyards  walled  in. 

Though  the  house  is  not  of  the  greatest,  the  gardens  about 
it  are  so  magnificent  that  I  doubt  whether  Italy  has  any  ex- 
ceeding it  for  all  rarities  of  pleasure.  The  garden  nearest  the 
pavilion  is  a  parterre,  having  in  the  middst  divers  noble  brasse 
statues,  perpetually  spouting  water  into  an  ample  bassin,  with 
other  figures  of  the  same  metal ;  but  what  is  most  admirable 
is  the  vast  enclosure,  and  variety  of  ground,  in  the  large  garden, 
1  containing  vineyards,  cornefields,  meadows,  groves  (whereof  one 
'  is  one  of  perennial  greens),  and  walkes  of  vast  lengthes,  so 
accurately  kept  and  cultivated,  that  nothing  can  be  more  agree- 

Iable.  On  one  of  these  walkes,  within  a  square  of  tall  trees,  is 
a  basilisc  of  copper  which  managed  by  the  fountainere  casts 
water  neere  60  feet  high,  and  will  of  itself  move  round  so 
swiftly,  that  one  can  hardly  escape  wetting.  This  leads  to 
the  Citroniere,  where  is  a  noble  conserve  of  all  those  rarities ; 
and  at  the  end  of  it  is  the  Arch  of  Constantine,  painted  on  a 


io6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

wall  in  oyle,  as  large  as  the  real  one  at  Rome,  so  well  don 
that  even  a  man  skill'd  in  painting  may  mistake  it  for  stone 
and  sculpture.  The  skie  and  hills  which  seem  to  be  betweene 
the  arches  are  so  naturall  that  swallows  and  other  birds,  think- 
ing to  fly  through,  have  dashed  themselves  against  the  wall. 
At  the  further  parte  of  this  walk  is  that  plentiful  though  artificial 
cascade  which  rolls  down  a  very  steepe  declivity,  and  over  the 
marble  steps  and  bassins,  with  an  astonishing  noyse  and  fury; 
each  basin  hath  a  jetto  in  it,  flowing  like  sheetes  of  transparent 
glasse,  especialy  that  which  rises  over  the  great  shell  of  lead, 
from  whence  it  glides  silently  downe  a  channell  thro'  the  middle 
of  a  spacious  gravel  walk  terminating  in  a  grotto.  Here  are 
also  fountaines  that  cast  water  to  a  great  height,  and  large  ponds, 
2  of  which  have  islands  for  harbour  of  fowles,  of  which  there 
is  store.  One  of  these  islands  has  a  receptacle  for  them  built 
of  vast  pieces  of  rock,  neere  50  feet  high,  growne  over  with 
mosse,  ivy,  etc.,  shaded  at  a  competent  distance  with  tall  trees, 
in  this  the  fowles  lay  eggs  and  breede.  We  then  saw  a  large 
and  very  rare  grotto  of  shell  worke,  in  the  shape  of  satyres 
and  other  wild  fancys  :  in  the  middle  stands  a  marble  table, 
on  which  a  fountaine  plays  in  forms  of  glasses,  cupps,  crosses, 
fanns,  crownes,  etc.  Then  the  fountaineere  represented  a  showre 
of  raine  from  the  topp,  mett  by  small  jetts  from  below.  At 
going  out  two  extravagant  musqueteers  shot  us  with  a  streme 
of  water  from  their  musket  barrells.  Before  this  grotto  is  a 
long  poole  into  which  ran  divers  spouts  of  water  from  leaden 
escollop  bassins. 
1644,  Mch.  I.  I  went  to  see  the  Count  de  Liancourt's  Palace  in  the  Rue 
de  Seine,  which  is  well  built.  Towards  his  study  and  bed- 
chamber joynes  a  little  garden,  which  tho'  very  narrow,  by  the 
addition  of  a  well  painted  perspective  is  to  appearance  greatly 
enlarged  ;  to  this  there  is  another  part,  supported  by  arches, 
in  which  runs  a  strearae  of  water,  rising  in  the  aviary,  out  of 
a  statue,  and  seeming  to  flow  for  some  miles,  by  being  artifici- 
ally continued  in  the  painting,  when  it  sinkes  down  at  the 
wall.      It   is   a   very   agreeable   deceipt.      At   the   end   of  this 


JOHN  EVELYN  107 

garden  is  a  little  theater,  made  to  change  with  divers  pretty 
seanes,  and  the  stage  so  ordered  that  with  figures  of  men  and 
women  paynted  on  light  boards,  and  cut  out,  and,  by  a  person 
who  stands  underneath,  made  to  act  as  if  they  were  speaking, 
by  guiding  them,  and  reciting  words  in  diferent  tones  as  the 
parts  require. 

Having  seen  the  roomes  we  went  to  the  Volary,  which  has  Fontainebleau. 
a  cupola  in  the  middle  of  it,  greate  trees  and  bushes,  it  being  '^4.  '"'•  7- 
full  of  birds  who  drank  at  two  fountaines.  There  is  a  faire 
Tennis  Court  and  noble  Stables ;  but  the  beauty  of  all  are 
the  Gardens.  In  the  Court  of  the  Fountaines  stand  divers 
antiquities  and  statues,  especially  a  Mercury.  In  the  Queenes 
Garden  is  a  Diana  ejecting  a  fountaine,  with  numerous  other 
brasse  statues. 

The  Greate  Garden,  180  toises  long  and  154  wide,  has  in 
the  centre  a  fountayne  of  Tyber  of  a  Colossean  figure  of  Brasse, 
with  the  Wolfe  over  Romulus  and  Rhemus.  At  each  corner 
of  the  garden  rises  a  fountaine.  In  the  Garden  of  the  Fish 
Pond  is  a  Hercules  of  white  marble.  Next  is  the  Garden  of 
the  Pines,  and  without  that  a  Canale  of  an  English  mile  in 
length,  at  the  end  of  which  rise  3  jettos  in  the  form  of  a  fleur 
de  lys,  of  a  great  height ;  on  the  margin  are  excellent  walkes 
planted  with  trees.    The  carps  come  familiarly  to  hand  (to  be  fed). 

Hence  they  brought  us  to  a  spring,  which  they  say  being  first 
discover'd  by  a  dog,  gave  occasion  of  beautifying  this  place  both 
with  the  Palace  and  Gardens.  The  rocks  at  some  distance  in 
the  Forest  yeald  one  of  the  most  august  and  stupendous  prospects 
imaginable.  The  Parke  about  this  place  is  very  large,  and  the 
Tovvne  is  full  of  noblemen's  houses. 

I  went  to  see  more  exactly  the  roomes  of  the  fine  Palace  of  Luxemburge. 
Luxemburge,  in  the  Fauxbourg  St  Germains,  built  by  Mary  de     '^'  ^^      '' 
Medices,  and  I  think  one  of  the  most  noble,  entire,  and  finish'd 
piles,  that  is  to  be  seen,  taking  it  with  the  garden  and  all  its 
accomplishm  ents. 


io8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

The  Gardens  are  neere  an  English  mile  in  compasse,  enclos'd 
with  a  stately  wall,  and  in  a  good  ayre.  The  parterre  is  indeed 
of  box,  but  so  rarely  designed  and  accurately  kept  cut,  that  the 
embroidery  makes  a  wonderful  effect  to  the  lodgings  which  front 
it.  'Tis  divided  into  4  squares,  and  as  many  circular  knots, 
having  in  the  center  a  noble  basin  of  marble  neere  30  feet 
diameter  (as  I  remember),  in  which  a  triton  of  brasse  holds  a 
dolphin  that  casts  a  girandola  of  water  neere  30  foote  high, 
playing  perpetualy,  the  water  being  conveyed  from  Arceuil  by 
an  aqueduct  of  stone,  built  after  the  old  Roman  magnificence. 
About  this  ample  parterre,  the  spacious  walkes  and  all  included, 
runs  a  border  of  freestone,  adorned  with  pedestalls  for  potts  and 
statues,  and  part  of  it  neere  the  stepps  of  the  terrace,  with  a  raile 
and  baluster  of  pure  white  marble. 

The  walkes  are  exactly  faire,  long,  and  variously  descending, 
and  so  justly  planted  with  limes,  elms,  and  other  trees,  that 
nothing  can  be  more  delicious,  especially  that  of  the  hornebeam 
hedge,  which  being  high  and  stately,  butts  full  on  the  fountaine. 

Towards  the  farther  end  is  an  excavation  intended  for  a  vast 
fish-pool,  but  never  finish'd.  Neere  it  is  an  enclosure  for  a 
garden  of  simples,  well  kept,  and  here  the  Duke  keeps  tortoises 
in  greate  number,  who  use  the  poole  of  water  on  one  side  of  the 
garden.  Here  is  also  a  conservatory  for  snow.  At  the  upper 
part  towards  the  palace  is  a  grove  of  tall  elmes,  cutt  into  a  starr, 
every  ray  being  a  walk,  whose  center  is  a  large  fountaine. 

The  rest  of  the  ground  is  made  into  severall  inclosures  (all 
hedgeworke  or  rowes  of  trees)  of  whole  fields,  meadowes,  boscages, 
some  of  them  containing  divers  acres. 

Next  the  streete  side,  and  more  contiguous  to  the  house,  are 
knotts  in  trayle  or  grasse  worke,  where  likewise  runs  a  fountaine. 
Towards  the  grotto  and  stables,  within  a  wall,  is  a  garden  of 
choyce  flowers,  in  which  the  Duke  spends  many  thousand  pistoles. 
In  sum,  nothing  is  wanted  to  render  this  palace  and  gardens 
perfectly  beautifull  and  magnificent;  nor  is  it  one  of  the  least 
diversions  to  see  the  number  of  persons  of  quality,  citizens  and 
strangers,  who  frequent  it,  and  to  whom  all  accesse   is  freely 


JOHN  EVELYN  109 

permitted,  so  that  you  shall  see  some  walkes  and  retirements 
full  of  gallants  and  ladys  ;  in  others  melancholy  fryers ;  in  others 
studious  scholars  ;  in  others  jolly  citizens,  some  sitting  or  lying 
on  the  grasse,  others  running,  jumping,  some  playing  at  bowles 
and  ball,  others  dancing  and  singing ;  and  all  this  without  the 
least  disturbance,  by  reason  of  the  largeness  of  the  place. 

What  is  most  admirable  is,  you  see  no  gardners  or  men  at 
worke,  and  yet  all  is  kept  in  such  exquisite  order  as  if  they  did 
nothing  else  but  work ;  it  is  so  early  in  the  morning,  that  all  is 
despatched  and  don  without  the  least  confusion. 

I  have  been  the  larger  in  the  description  of  this  Paradise,  for 
the  extraordinary  delight  I  have  taken  in  those  sweete  retire- 
ments. The  Cabinet  and  Chapell  neerer  the  garden  front  have 
some  choyce  pictures.  All  the  houses  neere  this  are  also  noble 
palaces,  especially  petite  Luxemburge. 

The  next  morning  I  went  to  the  Garden  of  Monsieur  Morine, 
who  from  being  an  ordinary  gardner  is  become  one  of  the  most 
skilful  and  curious  persons  in  France  for  his  rare  collections  of 
shells,  flowers  and  insects. 

His  garden  is  of  an  exact  oval  figure,  planted  with  cypresse 
cutt  flat  and  set  as  even  as  a  wall ;  the  tulips,  anemonies, 
ranunculus's,  crocus's,  etc.,  are  held  to  be  of  the  rarest,  and 
draw  all  the  admirers  of  such  things  to  his  house  during  the 
season.  He  lived  in  a  kind  of  Hermitage  at  one  side  of  his 
garden,  where  his  collection  of  purselane  and  coral,  whereot 
one  is  carved  into  a  large  Crucifix,  is  much  esteemed.  He  has 
also  bookes  of  prints,  by  Albert  (Durer),  Van  Leyden,  Calot,  etc. 
His  collection  of  all  sorts  of  insects,  especially  of  Butterflys,  is 
most  curios  ;  these  he  spreads  and  so  medicates  that  no  corruption 
invading  them,  he  keepes  them  in  drawers,  so  placed  as  to 
represent  a  beautifuU  piece  of  tapistre. 

I  often  went  to  the  Palais  Cardinal,  bequeathed  by 
Richelieu  to  the  King,  on  condition  that  it  should  be  called 
by  his  name;  at  this  time  the  King  resided  in  it,  because  of 
the  building  of  the  Louvre.  It  is  a  very  noble  house,  tho' 
somewhat  low ;    the  gallerys,   paintings  of  the  most   illustrious 


no  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

persons  of  both  sexes,  the  Queenes  bathes,  presence  chamber 
with  its  rich  carved  and  gilded  roofe,  theatre  and  large  garden, 
in  which  is  an  ample  fountaine,  grove,  and  maille,  are  worthy  of 
remark. 

Genoa.  One  of  the  greatest  here  for  circuit  is  that  of  the  Prince  d'Orias, 

1644,  Oct.  17.  which  reaches  from  the  sea  to  the  sum'it  of  the  mountaines.  .  .  .  To 
this  Palace  belongs  three  gardens,  the  first  whereof  is  beautified 
with  a  terrace,  supported  by  pillars  of  marble ;  there  is  a  fountaine 
of  eagles,  and  one  of  Neptune  with  other  Sea-gods,  all  of  the 
purest  white  marble ;  they  stand  in  a  most  ample  basin  of  the 
same  stone.  At  the  side  of  this  garden  is  such  an  aviary  as  Sir 
Fra  Bacon  describes  in  his  Sermones  fidelium,  or  Essays,  wherein 
grow  trees  of  more  than  two  foote  diameter,  besides  cypresse, 
myrtils,  lentises,  and  other  rare  shrubs  which  serve  to  nestle  and 
pearch  all  sorts  of  birds,  who  have  ayre  and  place  enough  under 
their  ayrie  canopy,  supported  with  huge  iron  worke,  stupendous 
for  its  fabrick  and  the  charge.  The  other  two  gardens  are  full 
of  orange  trees,  citrons  and  pomegranads,  fountaines,  grottos,  and 
statues  ;  one  of  the  latter  is  a  Colossal  Jupiter,  under  which  is  the 
Sepulchre  of  a  beloved  dog,  for  the  care  of  which  one  of  this 
family  received  of  the  K.  of  Spaine  500  crownes  a  yeare  during 
the  life  of  that  faithfuU  animal.  The  reservoir  of  water  here  is  a 
most  admirable  piece  of  art ;  and  so  is  the  grotto  over  against 
it  .  .  . 
Monte  Cavallo.  The  garden  which  is  called  the  Belvedere  di  Monte  Cavallo,  in 
1644,  Nov.  10.  emulation  to  that  of  the  Vatican,  is  most  excellent  for  ayre  and 
prospect,  its  exquisite  fountaines,  close  walkes,  grotts,  piscinas,  or 
stews  for  fish,  planted  about  with  venerable  cypresses,  and  refresh'd 
with  water  musiq,  aviaries,  and  other  rarities. 
Villa  Borghesi,  I  walked  to  Villa  Borghesi,  a  house  and  ample  garden  on  Mons 
1644,  Nov.  17,  pincius,  yet  somewhat  without  the  Citty  walls,  circumscrib'd  by 
another  wall  full  of  small  turrets  and  banqueting-houses,  which 
makes  it  appeare  at  a  distance  like  a  little  towne.  Within  it  is  an 
Elysium  of  delight,  having  in  the  centre  a  noble  Palace ;  but  the 
entrance  of  the  garden  presents  us  with  a  very  glorious  fabrick  or 


JOHN  EVELYN  iii 

rather  dore  case  adorn'd  with  divers  excellent  marble  statues. 
This  garden  abounded  with  all  sorts  of  delicious  fruit  and  exotig 
simples,  fountaines  of  sundry  inventions,  groves,  and  small  rivulets. 
There  is  also  adjoining  to  it  a  vivarium  for  estriges,  peacocks, 
swanns,  cranes,  etc.,  and  divers  strange  beasts,  deare,  and  hares. 
The  grotto  is  very  rare,  and  represents  among  other  devices 
artificial  raine,  and  sundry  shapes  of  vessells,  flowers,  etc.,  which 
is  effected  by  changing  the  heades  of  the  fountaines. 

I  went  with  my  brother  Evelyn  to  Wotton  to  give  him  what  Wotton. 
directions  I  was  able  about  his  garden,  which  he  was  now  desirous  '^52,  Mch.  22. 
to  put  into  some  forme  ;  but  for  which  he  was  to  remove  a 
mountaine  overgrowne  with  huge  trees  and  thicket,  with  a  moate 
within  10  yards  of  the  house.  This  my  brother  immediately 
attempted,  and  that  without  greate  cost,  for  more  than  an 
hundred  yards  South,  by  digging  downe  the  mountaine  and 
flinging  it  into  a  rapid  stream,  it  not  onely  carried  away  the 
sand,  etc.,  but  filled  up  the  moate,  and  level'd  that  noble  area, 
where  now  the  garden  and  fountaine  is.  The  first  occasion  of 
my  brother  making  this  alteration  was  my  building  the  little 
retiring  place  betweene  the  greate  wood  Eastward  next  the 
meadow,  where  some  time  after  my  father's  death  I  made  a 
triangular  pond,  or  little  stew,  with  an  artificial  rock  after  my 
coming  out  of  Flanders. 

I  began  to  set  out  the  ovall  garden  at  Sayes  Court,  which  was  Sayes  Court. 
before  a  rude  orchard  and  all  the  rest  one  intire  field  of  100  acres,  1653, /a//.  17. 
without  any  hedge,  except  the  hither  holly  hedge  joyning  to  the 
Bank   of  the   mount  walk.     This  was  the  beginning  of  all  the 
succeeding   gardens,  walks,   groves,    enclosures,  and   plantations 
there. 

I  planted  the  Orchard  at  Sayes  Court,  new  moone,  wind  W.        1653, /a«.  19. 

I  went  to  Hackney  to  see  my  Lady  Brooke's  garden,  which  was  1653,  May  8. 
one  of  the  neatest  and  most  celebrated  in  England,  the  house  well 
furnish'd,  but  a  despicable  building.     Returning  visited  one  Mr 
Lambs's  garden ;   it  has  large   and   noble  walks,  some   modem 
statues,  a  vineyard,  planted  in  strawberry  borders,  staked  at  10 


112  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

foote  distances ;  the  banqueting  house  of  cedar,  where  the  couch 
and  seates  were  carv'd  a  I'antique. 
Wilton.  In  the  afternoon  we  went  to  Wilton.  .  .  .  The  Garden,  hereto- 

i6s4,/«/)'  20.  fQj-g  esteemed  the  noblest  in  England,  is  a  large  handsom  plaine, 
with  a  grotto  and  water-works,  which  might  be  made  much  more 
pleasant  were  the  river  that  passes  through  cleans'd  and  rais'd,  for 
all  is  effected  by  a  meere  force.  It  has  a  flower  garden  not  in- 
elegant. But  after  all,  that  which  renders  the  seate  delightful  is 
its  being  so  neere  the  downes  and  noble  plaines  about  the  country 
contiguous  to  it.  The  stables  are  well  order'd  and  yield  a  gracefuU 
front,  by  reason  of  the  walkes  of  lime-trees,  with  the  court  and 
fountaine  of  the  stables  adorn'd  with  the  Csesar's  heads. 

Audley  End.  The  gardens  are  not  in  order,  tho'  well  inclos'd.  It  has  also 
a  bowling-alley  a  noble  well  wall'd,  wooded,  and  water'd  park,  full 
of  fine  collines  and  ponds ;  the  river  glides  before  the  palace,  to 
which  is  an  avenue  of  lime  trees,  but  all  this  is  much  diminish'd 
by  its  being  placed  in  an  obscure  bottome. 

i6ss,^»g-22.  I  went  to  Box-hill  to  see  those  rare  natural  bowers,  cabinets, 
and  shady  walkes  in  the  box  copses :  hence  we  walk'd  to 
Mickleham,  and  saw  Sir  F.  Stidolph's  seate  environ'd  with 
elme  trees  and  walnuts  innumerable,  and  of  which  last  he  told 
us  they  receiv'd  a  considerable  revenue.  Here  are  such  goodly 
walkes  and  hills  shaded  with  yew  and  box  as  render  the  place 
extreamely  agreeable,  it  seeming  from  these  ever-greens  to  be 
summer  all  the  winter. 

Hampton  The  Park  formerly  a  flat  naked  piece  of  ground,  now  planted 

Court.  ^i(-]^  sweete   rows    of  lime  trees ;  and  the  canall  for  water  now 

"  neere  perfected;  also  the  hare  parke.  In  the  garden  is  a  rich 
and  noble  fountaine,  with  syrens,  statues,  etc.,  cast  in  copper 
by  Fanelli,  but  no  plenty  of  water.  The  cradle-walk  of  home 
beame  in  the  garden  is,  for  the  perplexed  twining  of  the  trees, 
very  observable.  There  is  a  parterre  which  they  call  Paradise, 
in  which  is  a  pretty  banquetting-house  set  over  a  cave  or  cellar. 
All  these  gardens  might  be  exceedingly  improved,  as  being  too 
narrow  for  such  a  palace. 


JOHN  EVELYN  113 

Next  to  Wadham,  and  the  Physick  Garden,  where  were  two  Oxford. 
large  locust  trees,  and  as  many  platana,  and  some  rare  plants  ^    4.  Oit.  24. 
under  the  culture  of  old  Bobart. 

To  Alburie  to  see  how  that  garden  proceeded,  which  I  found  Albury. 
exactly  don  to  the  designe  and  plot  I  had  made,  with  the  crypta  '  ^°'   ^^^'  ^^' 
thro'  the  mountaine   in  the  park  30  perches  in   length.     Such 
a  Pausilippe  ^  is  no  where  in  England  besides.     The  canall  was 
now  digging  and  the  vineyard  planted. 

THERE  stand  in  the  garden  two  handsome  stone  pyramids,  Nonesuch, 
and  the  avenue  planted  with  rows  of  fair  elms,  but  the  rest 
of  these  goodly  trees,  both  of  this  and  of  Worcester  Park  ad- 
joining, were  felled  by  those  destructive  and  avaricious  rebels  in 
the  late  war,  which  defaced  one  of  the  stateliest  seats  his  Majesty 
had. 

For  the  rest,  the  fore-court  is  noble,  so  are  the  stables ;  and  Berkeley 
above  all,  the  gardens,  which  are  incomparable  by  reason  of  the  House. 
inequality  of  the  ground,  and  a  pretty /mvV/tz.     The  holly-hedges 
on  the  terrace  I  advised  the  planting  of. 

Above  all,  are  admirable  and  magnificent  the  several  ample  LordSunder- 
gardens  furnished  with  the  choicest  fruit,  and  exquisitely  kept,  lands  Seat  at 
Great  plenty  of  oranges  and  other  curiosities. 

After  dinner  I  walked  to  Ham,  to  see  the  house  and  garden  Ham. 
of  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale,  which  is  indeed  inferior  to  few 
of  the  best  villas  in  Italy  itself;  the  house  furnished  like  a 
great  Prince's ;  the  parterres,  flower-gardens,  orangeries,  groves, 
avenues,  courts,  statues,  perspectives,  fountains,  aviaries,  and 
all  this  at  the  banks  of  the  sweetest  river  in  the  world,  must 
needs  be  admirable. 

The  gardens  are  very  rare,  and  cannot  be  otherwise,  having  Earl  of  Es- 

so  skilful  an  artist  to  govern  them  as  Mr  Cooke,  who  is,  as  to  sesc^s  House 

.  .  ,  ,    at  Cashio- 

the  mechanick  part,  not  ignorant  m  mathematics,  and  pretends  bury,  Herts. 

^  A  word  adopted  by  Mr  Evelyn  for  a  subterranean  passage,  from  the  famous 
grotto  of  Pausilippo,  at  Naples. 

H 


114  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

to  astrology.      There  is  an  excellent  collection  of  the  choicest 
fruit. 

Next  morning  I  went  to  see  Sir  Thomas  Browne  (with  whom 
I  had  some  time  corresponded  by  letter,  tho'  I  had  never  seen 
him  before).  His  whole  house  and  garden  being  a  paradise  and 
cabinet  of  rarities,  and  that  of  the  best  collection,  especially 
medails,  books,  plants,  and  natural  things. — Diary. 

Wotton.  Concerning   the   Gardning   and   Husbandry  of  the  Antients, 

1696,  Oct.  28.  ^^\^^^  js  your  inquirie  (especialy  of  the  first),  that  it  had 
certainely  nothing  approaching  the  elegancy  of  the  present  age, 
Rapinus  (whom  I  send  you)  will  aboundantly  satisfie  you.  The 
discourse  you  will  find  at  the  end  of  Hortorum,  lib.  4°  capp.  6,  7. 
What  they  called  their  Gardens  onely  spacious  plots  of  ground 
planted  with  platans  and  other  shady  trees  in  walks,  and  built 
about  with  Porticas,  Xisti,  and  noble  ranges  of  pillars,  adorn'd 
with  Statues,  Fountaines,  Piscariae,  Aviaries,  etc.  But  for  the 
flowry  parterre,  beds  of  TuHps,  Carnations,  Auricula,  Tuberose, 
Jonquills,  Ranunculas,  and  other  of  our  rare  Coronaries,  we  heare 
nothing  of,  nor  that  they  had  such  a  store  and  variety  of  Exotics, 
Orangeries,  Myrtils,  and  other  curious  Greenes ;  nor  do  I  believe 
they  had  their  Orchards  in  such  perfection,  nor  by  far  our  furni- 
true  for  the  Kitchen.  Pliny  indeed  enumerates  a  world  of  vulgar 
plants  and  olitories,  but  they  fall  infinitely  short  of  our  Physic 
gardens,  books  and  herbals,  every  day  augmented  by  our  sedulous 
Botanists  and  brought  to  us  from  all  the  quarters  of  the  world. 
And  as  for  their  Husbandry  and  more  rural  skill,  of  which  the 
same  author  has  written  so  many  books  in  his  Nat.  History, 
especial  hb.  17,  18,  etc.,  you'l  soone  be  judge  what  it  was.  They 
tooke  great  care  indeede  of  their  Vines  and  Olives,  stercorations, 
ingraftings,  and  were  diligent  in  observing  seasons,  the  course  of 
the  stars,  etc.,  and  doubtlesse  were  very  industrious,  but  when 
you  shall  have  read  over  Cato,  Varro,  Columella,  Palladio,  with 
the  Greek  Geoponics,  I  do  not  think  you  will  have  cause  to 
prefer  them  before  the  modern  agriculture,  so  exceedingly  of 
late  improv'd,  for  which  you  may  consult  and  compare  our  old 


ANTHONY  ASHLEY  COOPER  115 

Tusser,  Markham,    the   Maison   Rustic,   Hartlib,    Walter   Blith,  I 

the   Philosophical    Transactions,    and   other    books,    which   you  1 

know  better  than  my  selfe.  I 

DEHOLD  the  Disposition  and  Order  of  these  finer   sorts  of  ANTHONY  | 

^     Apartments,  Gardens,    Villas !   The   kind   of   Harmony  to  pooPFR  ' 

the  Eye,  from  the  various  Shapes  and  Colours  agreeably  mixt,  EARL  OF 

and    rang'd    in    Lines,    intercrossing    without    confusion,    and  SHAFTESBURY 

fortunately  co-incident. — h.  Parterre,  Cypresses,  Groves,  Wilder-       -         ^  •  i 

nesses. — Statues,  here  and  there,  of   Virtue,  Fortitude,  Temper-  1 

atice — Heroes-'^yx~X%,    Fhilosophers-Yi<t2Ld5 ;    with    sutable    Mottos 

and    Inscriptions — Solemn    Representations    of    things    deeply 

natural — Caves,    Grottos,    Rocks — Urns    and    Obelisks   in    retir'd 

places,  and  dispos'd  at  proper  distances   and   points    of  Sight :  ! 

with  all  those  Symmetrys  which  silently  express  a  reigning  Order, 

Peace,  Ho.rmony,  and  Beauty ! — But  what  is  there  answerable  to 

this,  in  the  MINDS  of  the  Possessors  ?     What  Possession  or  Pro-  '< 

priety  is  theirs  ?   What  Constancy  or  Security  of  Enjoyment  ?   What 

Peace,  what  Harmotiy  WITHIN  ?  " — Miscellaneous  Reflections.  \ 

The  greatest  fruit  and  kitchen  gardener  who  ever  lived  was  born  at  Poictiers  JEAN  DE  LA        i 
1626;  he  gave  up  study  of  lazv  to  accompany  son  of  M.  Tambonneau  {whose  QUINTINYE        ! 
garden  he  planiied  and  directed)  to  Italy,  to  study  plants  ;  made  experimeiUs  and  (1026-1700). 
discoveries  on  sap  of  plants.     His  "  Traits  des  Ja7-dins  Fruit iers  et  Potagers" 
{A/nsterd.  1690),  translated  by  Evelyn  as  "  Cojnpleat  Gardiner,"  and  abridged 

by  London  and  Wise.     Friend  of  Louis  XIV.  a7id  Conde.      Charles  II.  offered  j 

him  pension.    Revisited  England  twice.    Perratilt  says  his  letters  were  published  1 
?;?  Londo7i.     He  stayed  with  Evelyn,  who  had  his  portrait  engraved  for  him, 

and  Qnintinye  imparted  to  him  his  mode  of  cultivating  melons .     He  was  Director-  1 

General  of  the  King  s  Fruit  and  Kitchen  Garden  at  Versailles,  which  he  laid  out,  i 

covering  thirty  acres,  of  which  he  gives  the  plan.     Here  the  Confreres  de  Saint  , 

Fiacre,  the  Tutelar  Saint  of  Horticulturists,  still  hold  their  Gardeners'  Lodge.  j 

He  died  1700,  and  L.ouis  XIV.  said  to  his  widow,  '  I  am  as  great  a  sufferer  by  1 

his  death  as  you,  and  I  despair  of  ever  siipplying  his  loss. '   His  system  of  pruning  || 
and  training  wall  and  espalier  trees  surpassed  that  of  all  previous  writers. 

T  KNOW  well  enough  that  all  Books  of  Gardening  have  usually  \ 

■*     begun  with  a  Preface  full  of  the  praises  given  to  it,  and  that  : 

consequently  it   may  be   thought   this  ought  to   begin   so   too. 


ii6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

But  since  I  am  far  from  presuming  myself  able  to  say  anything 
new,  that  may  at  all  enhance  the  Esteem  which  is  due  to  Gardens, 
or  to  the  Art  that  teaches  their  Construction,  and  therefore 
cannot  but  think  it  very  impertinent  to  go  about  to  persuade 
any  one  to  study  it ;  when  I  observe  the  most  part  of  Men 
possess'd  with  a  natural  passion  for  so  sweet  and  profitable  an 
Occupation,  I  shall  wave  those  Complements,  and  fall  down 
right  upon  the  pursuit  of  my  Design,  which  is  to  instruct, 
in  case  I  can  show  myself  really  master  enough  of  the  Art, 
worthily  to  perform  it. 


And  further,  the  affectation  of  Men  to  gratifie  the  Pleasures 
of  their  Eyes,  inciting  them  to  push  on  things  to  more  and 
more  Perfection ;  there  came  first  into  the  minds  of  Noble 
Persons,  some  conceits  of  ranging  those  Flowers  with  a  little 
more  agreeableness  and  Sym7?ietry  than  was  practised  by  the 
first  Curiosi's,  which  gave  the  first  beginnings  to  Parterres,  or 
Flower-Pots  among  Florist's,  the  first  of  which,  in  all  probability, 
were  but  cut  pieces  (decoupez)  shaped  after  but  a  plain  and 
gross  manner.  But  afterwards  there  were  some  made  of 
another  fashion,  called  Embroidery  Fashioti  which  were  better 
contrived  and  more  delightful  than  the  other,  with  which  two 
sorts  the  World  contented  themselves  for  several  Ages,  so  that 
Gardens  were  not  accompanied  with  any  other  Beauties  than 
those,  till  in  these  last  times  Curiosity,  Good  Judgjnent,  and 
Fancy,  and  Magnificence  itself  being  grown  by  little  and  little, 
to  an  extraordinary  heighth,  our  Age,  which  excells  in  all  that 
Humane  industry  is  able  to  invent,  has  given  in  particular 
by  the  ingenious  skill  of  the  famous  Mr  Le  Nostre  the  best 
perfection  to  this  part  of  Gardening,  which  appears  by  so  many 
Catials,  Water-  Works,  Cascades,  Spouting-Fountains,  Labyrinths, 
Bowling  Greens,  Terraces,  etc.,  ornaments  indeed  that  are  new, 
but  such  as  in  earnest  do  wonderfully  set  off"  the  natural  Beauty 
of  a  Garden. — Preface  to  the  Compleat  Gard'?ier,  translated  by 
John  Evelyn  {or  his  sofi). 


MADAME  DE  SEVIGNE  117  I 

MY  little  trees  are  of  a  surprising  beauty.     Pilois  raises  them  MADAME        ; 
up  to  the   clouds  with  a  wonderful  adroitness  :    all  the  /1626-1696).        i 
same,  nothing  is  so  beautiful  as  those   alleys  whose   birth  you  ' 

have  seen.     You  know  I  gave  you  a  kind  of  device  which  pleased  \ 

you  :  here  is  a  motto  I  have  written  on  a  tree  for  my  son  who  j 

has  returned  from  Candia,  Vago  di  fama  :  is  it  not  pretty  although  I 

so  brief?     Only  yesterday  I  had  written  in  honour  of  the  idle,  | 

Bella  cosa  far  nietite.     Aux  Rochers.     31  May,  167 1. 

As   to  my  labyrinth,  it  is  neat,  it  has  green  plots,   and   the  ■ 

palissades  are  breast-high ;    it  is  a  lovable  spot ;   but,  alas  !  my  ! 

dear  child,  there  is  scarcely  a  sign  of  my  ever  seeing  you  in  it. 

Di  memoria  nudrirsi,  piu  che  di  speme. 

It  is  indeed  my  true  device. — Aux  Rochers,  26  July,  1671. 

I   do  not  know  what  you  have  done   this  morning;  for  my 
part,  I  have  been  in  the  dew  up  to  my  knees  laying  lines ;    I  I 

am  making  winding  alleys  all   round  my  park,   which  will  be  : 

of  great  beauty ;  if  my  son  loves  woods  and  walks,  he  will  be 
sure  to  bless  my  memory. — 28  October,  167 1.  | 

There  is  the  Palace  of  the  Luxemburg  belonging  to  Made- 
moiselle,^ and  we  shall  enter  it  soon.  Madame  had  ordered  j 
all  the  trees  in  the  garden  on  her  side  to  be  cut  down,  out 
of  pure  contradiction :  this  beautiful  garden  had  become 
ridiculous ;  Providence  has  provided  for  it.  Mademoiselle 
will  be  able  to  have  it  cleared  on  both  sides,  and  put  Le 
Notre  in  it,  to  make  it  like  the  Tuileries. — Farts.     6  April,  1672. 

We  were  at  Clagny  .  .  .  the  building  is  growing  visibly,  the 
Gardens  are  made.  You  know  the  manner  of  Le  Notre  ;  he 
has  left  a  little  dark  wood,  which  does  very  well.  There  is  a 
grove  of  orange-trees  in  great  tubs ;  you  walk  there ;  and  they 
form  alleys  in  the  shade ;  and  to  hide  the  tubs  there  are  two  rows 
of  pallisades  high  enough  to  lean  on,  all  aflower  with  tube-roses, 
^  Marguerite  de  Lorraine,  second  wife  of  Gaston,  Duke  of  Orleans. 


ii8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

roses,  jasmines,  carnations.  It  is  assuredly  the  most  beautiful, 
the  most  surprising,  and  the  most  enchanted  novelty  imaginable- 
7  At/g.,  1675. — Letters  to  Madame  Grignan. 

—^Ai\/\rj— 

JOHN  A  FTER  this,  he  (the  Interpreter)  led  them  into  his  Garden, 

(1628-1688).  where  was  great  Variety  of  Flowers  :  And  he  said.  Do  you  see 

all  these  ?  So  Christian  said.  Yes.  Then  said  he  again,  Behold 
the  Flowers  are  divers  in  Stature,  in  Quality,  and  Colour,  and 
Smell,  and  Virtue ;  and  some  are  better  than  some :  Also 
where  the  Gardener  hath  set  them,  there  they  stand,  and 
quarrel  not  one  with  another.  .  .  .  When  the  Interpreter  had 
done,  he  takes  them  out  into  his  Garden  again,  and  had  them 
to  a  Tree,  whose  inside  was  all  rotten  and  gone,  and  yet  it 
grew  and  had  leaves.  Then  said  Mercy,  What  means  this? 
This  Tree,  said  he,  whose  Outside  is  fair  and  whose  Inside 
is  rotten,  it  is,  to  which  may  be  compared,  that  are  in  the 
Garden  of  God :  Who  with  their  Mouths  speak  high  in  Be- 
half of  God,  but  in  deed  will  do  nothing  for  him ;  whose 
Leaves  are  fair,  but  their  Hearts  good  for  nothing  but  to  be 
Tinder  for  the  Devil's  Tinder-Box. — The  Pilgrim'' s  Progress. 

—AJS/St^— 

JOHN  RAY,  One  of  the  founders  of  modern  Zoology  and  Botany :  oiiginally  Greek  Lecturer 
{1627  1705).  at  Cambridge,  where  tie  was  Fellow  of  Tritiity  with  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  He 
published  in  1660  A  Catalogue  of  Plants  around  that  town,  and  in  1673 
'  Observations  made  in  a  Jotirney  through  the  Lozu  Countries,  Germany, 
Italy  and  France,'  giving  infortnation  of  animals  and  plants  seen  during  thi-ee 
years.  1667,  elected  Fellow  of  Royal  Society.  1682,  "  Methodus  Plant aru?n 
nova,"  as  altered  by  himself,  formed  the  basis  of  the  System  of  Jussieu  received 
at  present  day.  1670,  his  '  Catalogus  Plantarutn  Anglia,'  the  basis  of  all  sidt- 
sequent  Floras  of  this  Country.  1686,  his  Historia  Plantarurn  {Fol.  I. 
appeared) ;  made  fnany  researches  in  Vegetable  Physiology. 

Cuvier  states,  he  was  the  model  of  the  Systematists  during  the  whole  of  the 
iSth  Century  ( Whewell).  Ray  meditated  a  work  to  be  entitled  "  Ilorti  Anglice." 
See  his  letters.     {Dairies  Barrington). 

D  UT  whether  there  be  such  a  constant  circulation  of  the  Sap 
*-^  in  Plants  as  there  is  of  the  blood  in  Animals,  as  they  would 
from  hence  infer,  there  is  some  reason  to  doubt. 


LEONARD  MEAGER  119 

I  might  add  hereto  the  pleasant  and  delectable,  cooling  and 
refreshing  Shade  they  afford  in  the  Summer-time ;  which  was 
very  much  esteem'd  by  the  Inhabitants  of  hot  Countries,  who 
always  took  great  delight  and  pleasure  to  sit  in  the  open  Air, 
under  shady  Trees ;  Hence  that  Expression  so  often  repeated 
in  Scripture,  of  every  Man's  sitting  under  his  own  Vine,  and 
under  his  oivn  Fig-tree,  where  also  they  us'd  to  eat ;  as  appears 
by  Abrahani's  entertaining  the  Angels  under  a  Tree,  and  stand- 
ing by  them  whem  they  did  eat,  Geti.  18,  8.  Moreover  the 
Leaves  of  Plants  are  very  beautiful  and  ornamental.  That 
there  is  great  pulchritude  and  comeliness  of  Proportion  in  the 
Leaves,  Flowers  and  Fruits  of  Plants,  is  attested  by  the  general 
Verdict  of  Mankind,  as  Dr  More  and  others  well  observe.  The 
adorning  and  beautifying  of  Temples  and  Buildings  in  all  Ages, 
is  an  evident  and  undeniable  Testimony  of  this  :  For  what  is 
more  ordinary  with  Architects  than  the  taking  in  Leaves  and 
Flowers  and  Fruitage  for  the  garnishing  of  their  Work ;  as  the 
Roman  the  Leaves  of  Acanthus,  and  the  Jewish  of  Palm-Trees 
and  Foj?iegratiets :  and  these  more  frequently  than  any  of  the 
five  regular  Solids,  as  being  more  comely  and  pleasant  to  be- 
hold.—  The  Wisdom  0/  God  in  the  Creation. 

Gardener'    in    service    of  P.    Holntlan    of   Warkworth :    author   of    '  The  LEONARD 
English   Gardener,'  with  engravings,  ^to,  1 670  ;   '  The  New  Art  of  Garden-  MEAGER 
ing,    with  The  Gardeners  Almanack,^    1697,    i2tno ;    and    The   Mystery  of^^^^^^'^T^^'i 
Husbandry,''  1697. 

IN  every  Garden  Four  Things  are  necessary  to  be  provided  for,  SIR 

^     Flowers,  Fruit,  Shade,  and  Water,  and  whoever  lays  out  a  ^j^^^^^ 

Garden  without  all  these,  must  not  pretend  it  in  any  Perfection.  (1628-1700). 

It  ought  to  He  to  the  best  Parts  of  the  House,  or  to  those  of 

the  Master's  commonest  Use,  so  as  to  be  but  like  one  of  the 

Rooms  out  of  which  you  step  into  another.     The  Part  of  your 

Garden  next  your  House  (besides  the  Walks  that  go  round  it) 

should  be  a  Parterre  for  flowers,  or  Grass-Plots  bordered  with 


I20  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Flowers  ;  or  if,  according  to  the  Newest  Mode,  it  be  cast  all 
into  Grass-Plots  and  Gravel-Walks,  the  Driness  of  these  should 
be  relieved  with  Fountains,  and  the  Plainness  of  those  with 
Statues ;  otherwise,  if  large,  they  have  an  ill  effect  upon  the 
Eye.  However,  the  Part  next  the  House  should  be  open,  and 
no  other  Fruit  but  upon  the  Walls.  If  this  take  up  one  Half 
of  the  Garden,  the  other  should  be  Fruit-Trees,  unless  some 
Grove  for  Shade  lie  in  the  Middle.  If  it  take  up  a  Third  Part 
only,  then  the  next  Third  may  be  Dwarf-Trees,  and  the  Last 
Standard-Fruit ;  or  else  the  Second  Part  Fruit-Trees,  and  the 
Third  all  Sorts  of  Winter-Greens,  which  provide  for  all  Seasons 
of  the  Year.  .  .  . 

The  perfectest  Figure  of  a  Garden  I  ever  saw,  either  at  Home 
or  Abroad,  was  that  of  Moor-Park,  in  Hertfordshire,  when  I  knew 
it  about  thirty  years  ago.  It  was  made  by  the  Countess  of  Bed- 
ford, esteemed  among  the  greatest  Wits  of  her  Time,  and  cele- 
brated by  Doctor  Domie;  and  with  very  great  Care,  excellent 
Contrivance,  and  much  Cost ;  but  greater  sums  may  be  thrown 
away  without  Effect  or  Honour  if  there  want  Sense  in  Propor- 
tion to  Money,  or  if  Nature  be  not  followed ;  which  I  take  to 
be  the  great  Rule  in  this,  and  perhaps  in  every  thing  else,  as  far 
as  the  Conduct  not  only  of  our  Lives,  but  our  Governments. 
And  whether  the  Greatest  of  Mortal  Men  should  attempt  the 
forcing  of  Nature  may  best  be  judged  by  observing  how  seldom 
God  Almighty  does  it  Himself,  by  so  few,  true,  and  undisputed 
Miracles,  as  we  see  or  hear  of  in  the  World.  For  my  own  Part, 
I  know  not  three  wiser  Precepts  for  the  Conduct  either  of  Princes 
or  Private  Men,  than 

Servare  Modum,  Finemque  tueri, 

Naturamque  sequi. 

Because  I  take  the  Garden  I  have  named  to  have  been  in  all 
Kinds  the  most  beautiful  and  perfect,  at  least  in  the  Figure  and 
Disposition,  that  I  have  ever  seen,  I  will  describe  it  for  a  model 
to  those  that  meet  with  such  a  Situation,  and  are  above  the 
Regards  of  common  Expence.  It  lies  on  the  Side  of  a  Hill, 
(upon  which  the  House  stands)  but  not  very  steep.     The  Length 


SIR  WILLIAM  TEMPLE  121 

of  the  House,  where  the  best  Rooms  and  of  most  Use  or  Pleasure 
are,  lies  upon  the  Breadth  of  the  Garden,  the  Great  Parlour  opens 
into  the  Middle  of  a  Terras  Gravel-Walk  that  lies  even  with  it, 
and  which  may  be,  as  I  remember,  about  three  hundred  Paces 
long,  and  broad  in  Proportion,  the  Border  set  with  Standard 
Laurels,  and  at  large  Distances,  which  have  the  Beauty  of 
Orange-Trees,  out  of  Flower  and  Fruit :  From  this  Walk  are 
Three  Descents  by  many  Stone  Steps,  in  the  Middle  and  at 
each  End,  into  a  very  large  Parterre.  This  is  divided  into 
Quarters  by  Gravel-Walks,  and  adorned  with  Two  Fountains 
and  Eight  Statues  in  the  several  Quarters ;  at  the  End  of  the 
Terras-Walk  are  Two  Summer-Houses,  and  the  Sides  of  the 
Parterre  are  ranged  with  two  large  Cloisters,  open  to  the  Garden, 
upon  Arches  of  Stone,  and  ending  with  two  other  Summer-Houses 
even  with  the  Cloisters,  which  are  paved  with  Stone,  and 
designed  for  Walks  of  Shade,  there  being  none  other  in  the 
whole  Parterre.  Over  these  two  Cloisters  are  two  Terrasses 
covered  with  Lead,  and  fenced  with  Balusters ;  and  the  Passage 
into  these  Airy  Walks,  is  out  of  the  two  Summer-Houses,  at 
the  End  of  the  first  Terras-Walk.  The  Cloister  facing  the  South 
is  covered  with  Vines,  and  would  have  been  proper  for  an  Orange- 
House,  and  the  other  for  Myrtles,  or  other  more  common  Greens  ; 
and  had,  I  doubt  not,  been  cast  for  that  Purpose,  if  this  Piece 
of  Gardening  had  been  then  in  as  much  Vogue  as  it  is  now. 

p'rom  the  Middle  of  this  Parterre  is  a  Descent  by  many  Steps 
flying  on  each  side  of  a  Grotto,  that  lies  between  them  (covered 
with  Lead,  and  flat)  into  the  lower  Garden,  which  is  all  Fruit- 
Trees  ranged  about  the  several  Quarters  of  a  Wilderness  which 
is  very  Shady ;  the  Walks  here  are  all  Green,  the  Grotto  em- 
bellish'd  with  Figures  of  Shell-Rock-work,  Fountains  and  Water- 
works. If  the  Hill  had  not  ended  with  the  lower  Garden,  and 
the  Wall  were  not  bounded  by  a  common  Way  that  goes  through 
the  Park,  they  might  have  added  a  Third  Quarter  of  all  Greens ; 
but  this  Want  is  supplied  by  a  Garden  on  the  other  Side  of  the 
House,  which  is  all  of  that  Sort,  very  Wild,  Shady,  and  adorned 
with  rough  Rock-work  and  Fountains. —  Upon  the  Gardens  of 
Epicurus,  or  of  Gardening. 


122  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

PIERRE  1670,  appointed  Tutor  to  the  Dauphin,  and  for  twenty  years  published  the 
DANIEL  Edition  of  the  Classics  '■'■in  ustiin  Delphini."  1674,  Member  of  the  French 
.y  ,    Academy.     \6?,<),  Bishop  of  Avranches. 

A  LTHOUGH  natural  beauties  are  preferable  to  artistic  ones, 
•'^  that  is  not  the  taste  of  this  century.  Nothing  pleases,  if 
not  costly.  A  fountain  issuing  in  great  cascades  from  the  foot 
of  a  rock,  tumbling  over  a  golden  sand  the  clearest  and  freshest 
water  in  the  world,  will  not  please  the  people  at  court  as  much 
as  a  jet  of  foetid  and  muddy  water  drawn  up  at  enormous  cost 
from  a  frog-marsh.  A  factitious  parterre,  composed  of  earth 
brought  together  according  to  a  plan  of  Monsieur  Le  Notre, 
having  for  its  whole  decoration  but  a  few  rows  of  box,  which 
never  distinguish  the  seasons  by  change  of  colour ;  surrounded 
by  vast  sanded  alleys,  very  compact  and  very  bare ;  such  a 
parterre  forms  the  delight  of  polite  society. 

It  leaves  to  small  cits  and  peasants  these  rustic  lawns,  this 
rural  turf.  It  requires  palissades  erected  with  the  line,  and 
at  the  point  of  the  shears.  The  green  shades  of  these  tufted 
birches,  and  of  those  great  oaks  which  were  found  at  the  birth 
of  time,  are  in  bad  taste  and  worthy  of  the  grossness  of  our 
fathers.  Is  not  to  think  thus  to  prefer  a  painted  face  to  the 
natural  colour  of  a  beautiful  countenance  ?  But  the  depravity  of 
this  judgment  is  discovered  in  our  pictures  and  in  our  tapestries. 
Paint  on  the  one  side  a  fashionable  garden,  and  on  the  other 
one  of  those  beautiful  landscapes,  in  which  Nature  spreads  her 
riches  undisguised ;  one  will  present  a  very  tedious  object,  the 
other  will  charm  you  by  its  delight.  You  will  be  tired  of  the 
one  at  first  glance,  you  will  never  weary  of  looking  at  the  other, 
such  is  the  force  of  nature  to  make  itself  beloved,  in  spite  of 
the  pilferings  and  deceits  of  art. — Huetiana,  ^  Natural  Beauties 
preferable  to  Artistic  ones''  (1722).^ 

I  have  no  more  approval  for  the  gardens  in  fashion  than 
for  iron-screens  (clairvoyees).     I  mean  those  gardens,  composed 

^  Bottiger  contends  that  the  Bishop  of  Avranches  has  in  these  remarks 
foreshadowed  the  modern  landscape  garden  before  the  Spectator. 


PIERRE  DANIEL  HUET  123 

of  large  broad  sand-strewn  allies,  of  trellises,  parterres,  adorned 
only  with  a  few  delicate  beds,  defined  by  strips  of  box  and 
edged  with  a  few  flowers,  and  a  few  stunted  trees,  and  in  which 
you  can  scarce  distinguish  summer  from  winter. 

M.  le  Nostre,  who  is  quoted  as  the  author  of  this  sort  of 
garden,  which  it  is  asserted  he  brought  back  from  Italy,  did, 
it  is  true,  adapt  it  to  the  King's  Gardens,  but  he  did  not  adapt 
it  alone,  for  he  added  covered  alleys,  shaped  woods,  trees  of 
lofty  trunk,  pallisades,  and  green  shades.  The  majority  of 
private  persons,  possessing  neither  sufficient  ground,  nor  suffi- 
cient means  to  give  their  gardens  all  these  ornaments,  and  keep 
them  up,  have  only  adopted  its  parterres,  which  require  little 
time  and  expense,  but  in  which  walking  is  out  of  the  question 
throughout  the  day,  and  in  which  ladies,  regardful  of  their  com- 
plexion, would  only  venture  to  appear  after  sun-set. 

Pere  Rapin  was  not  of  this  way  of  thinking,  and  has  left  very 
different  lessons  in  his  agreeable  Poem  on  gardening;  and  if 
Virgil  had  been  able  to  satisfy  the  desire  he  had  to  handle  that 
subject,  he  would  not  have  been  content  to  give  precepts  for 
cultivating  fruit-  and  kitchen-gardens  ;  but  in  imitation  of  the 
good  old  man  of  Cilicia,  whom  he  had  seen  at  Tarentum,  and 
whose  care  and  industry  he  describes  so  agreeably,  he  would 
have  painted  in  his  verse  the  pleasures  created  by  tall  trees, 
unfruitful  though  they  may  be,  by  their  foliage,  their  shadows, 
and  their  decoration. — Ibid:  Of  the  gardens  in  fashion. 

(Lord  Paulet's  garden  at  Hinton  St  George  is)  very  different  XVI Ith  Century, 
from  the  common  style  of  English  gardens ;  these  are  usually 
walks  of  sand,  made  perfectly  level,  by  rolling  them  with  a  stone 
cylinder,  through  the  axis  of  which  a  lever  of  iron  is  passed  whose 
ends  being  brought  forward  and  united  together  in  form  of  a 
triangle,  serve  to  move  it  backwards  or  forwards,  and  between 
the  walks  are  smooth  grass-plats,  covered  with  the  greenest  tuft, 
without  any  other  ornament.  This  of  my  Lord  Paulet  is  a 
Meadow  divided  into  several  compartments  of  brick-work,  which 
are  filled  with  flowers. — Harkian  Miscellanies,  vol.  vii.  p.  141. 


124  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

SAMUEL  '"pHEN  to  Mr  Evelyn's,  to  discourse  of  our  confounded  business 
(i6^^  17  X)  °^  prisoners,  and  sick  and  wounded  seamen,  wherein  he 

and  we  are  so  much  put  out  of  order.  And  here  he  showed  me 
his  Gardens,  which  are,  for  variety  of  evergreens,  and  hedge  of 
holly,  the  finest  things  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  Thence  in  his 
coach  to  Greenwich,  and  there  to  my  office,  all  the  way  having 
fine  discourse  of  trees  and  the  nature  of  vegetables. — '  Diary. ^ 
^th  October,  1665. 

By  water  to  Deptford,  and  there  made  a  visit  to  Mr  Evelyn.  .  .  . 
He  read  to  me  very  much  also  of  his  discourse,  he  hath  been 
many  years  and  now  is  about,  about  Gardenage ;  which  will  be 
a  most  noble  and  pleasant  piece. — 5  Novr.,  1665. 

22nd  (Lord's  Day).  Walked  to  White  Hall,  where  saw  nobody 
almost,  but  walked  up  and  down  with  Hugh  May,  who  is  a  very 
ingenious  man. 

Among  other  things,  discoursing  of  our  present  fashion  of 
gardens  to  make  them  plain,  that  we  have  the  best  walks  of 
gravell  in  the  world,  France  having  none  nor  Italy;  and  our 
green  of  our  bowling  aUies  is  better  than  any  they  have.  So 
our  business  here  being  ayre,  this  is  the  best  way,  only  with  a 
little  mixture  of  statues  or  pots,  which  may  be  handsome,  and 
so  filled  with  another  pot  of  such  or  such  a  flower  or  greene, 
as  the  season  of  the  year  will  bear.  And  then  for  flowers,  they 
are  best  seen  in  a  little  plat  by  themselves  :  besides,  their  borders 
spoil  the  w-alks  of  another  garden  :  and  then  for  fruit,  the  best  way 
is  to  have  walls  built  circularly  one  within  another,  to  the  South,  on 
purpose  for  fruit,  and  leave  the  walking  Garden  only  for  that  use. 
Thence  walked  through  the  House,  where  most  people  mighty 
hush,  and  methinks,  melancholy. — 22nd July,  1666. 


— i'f\j\t\t- — 


GEORGE  LONDON  125 

Lotidon  was  a  pupil  of  Rose,  Gardener  to  Charles  IT.,  and  fomider  of  the  GEORGE 
Brompton  Park  Nursery.      He  and   Wise   were  authors  of  '  The  Compleat  LONDON 
Gardener'  {abridged  from  de  la  Quintinye),  and  of  ^  The  Retir'd  Gard'tter'  in  VT'pZrp-fr 
two  volumes.      Vol.  I.,  a  Translation  of  '' Le  Jardiiiier  Solitaire,  or  Dialogues  \A7TSF 
between  a  Gentleman  and  a  Ga7-d'ner'  {Fruit  atui  Kitchen  Garden).      Vol.  II., 
containing  the  maimer  of  planting  and  cultivating  all  sorts  of  Flowers  .   .  .  . 
being  a  translation  from  'Le  Jardinier  Fleuriste  et  Historiographer  written 
by  the  Sieur  Liger  of  Atixerre. 

Evelyn  devotes  the  "Advertisement"  of  his  translation  of  La  Quintinye's 
'Compleat  Gard'ner  '  to  an  eulogy  of  London  and  Wise,  in  which  he  commends 
their  industry,  knowledge  of  Nature  and  genius  of  Soils,  their  powers  of  Design, 
and  their  ample  Collection  at  Brompton  Park,  near  Kensington. 

When  Wise  was  appointed  to  the  care  of  the  Royal  Gardens  by  Queen  Anne, 
London  used  to  make  riding  Circuits  of  the  principal  Gardens  of  England. 

Gard  ''ner. 
'"pHE  Distribution  of  Four  acres  for  a  fruit  and  kitchin  garden, 
^       according  to  the  figure  I  here  present  you,  is  the  most 
approv'd  of,  both  in  regard  to  fruit-trees  and  legumes. 

Gentleman. 

Wherein  does  the  beauty  of  it  consist  ? 
Gard'ner. 

You  may  observe  it  in  the  figure  before  you :  you  see  'tis  more 
deep  than  broad ;  the  Alleys  are  of  a  good  size,  adorn'd  with 
Borders  Three  Foot  deep  on  each  side,  edged  with  several  sorts 
of  Aromatick  Herbs.  ...  In  my  Opinion  there's  nothing  more 
ingenious  belonging  to  a  Garden,  than  the  different  Ways  of 
marking  our  different  Figures  in  a  Parterre,  especially  when  the 
design  happens  to  be  well  contrived,  and  the  Execution  of  it 
perform'd  by  a  skilful  Hand. 

Formerly  Gardens  did  not  require  so  great  Exactness  as  now, 
and  Art  suffer'd  Nature  to  bring  forth  her  Productions  as  confus'd 
as  she  pleas'd  ;  a  Flower  that  should  have  been  the  chief  Ornament 
of  the  Garden  lay  hid,  and  languish'd  among  others  of  less  Value, 
which  tarnish'd  all  its  Beauty.  It  was  not  then  known  what  was 
meant  by  knots  parted  by  Box,  which  had  it  been  form'd  in  all  the 
figures  Fancy  could  suggest,  would  have  afforded  a  pleasure  to  the 
Eye  not  easie  to  be  express'd. 


126  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

In  former  Times,  the  use  of  Box  was  not  known,  and  the 
Manner  of  using  it,  if  we  believe  the  Fable,  was  introduc'd  by 
the  Goddess  Flora,  who  believing  it  to  be  an  Ornament  prepared 
for  Gardens,  order'd  it  to  be  made  use  of  accordingly. 

.  .  .  Some  Parterres  are  said  to  be  imbroider'd,  others  partly 
imbroider'd,  and  partly  Cut-work  with  Borders  ;  a  Third  Sort 
compos'd  of  Grass-work  only ;  a  Fourth  made  up  of  Imbroidery 
and  Grass-work ;  a  Fifth  only  Cut-work ;  a  Sixth  nothing  but 
Cut-work  and  Turfs  of  Grass;  a  Seventh  of  Cut-work  of  Grass 
and  Imbroidery;  an  Eighth  whose  middle  is  all  Cut-work,  and 
the  Borders  Imbroidery  ;  a  Ninth,  on  the  contrary,  whose 
Borders  are  all  Cut-work,  and  the  Middle  Imbroidery;  and 
lastly  another  Sort,  whose  Middle  is  partly  Imbroidery,  partly 
Cut-work  and  Green  Turf,  with  Borders  of  Turf  and  Cut-work. 

Note. — Imbroidery  —  those  Draughts  which  represent  in  Effect 
those  we  have  on  our  Cloaths,  and  look  like  Foliage ;  in  Gard'ners' 
language  call'd  Branch-work,  Below  the  Foliage  certain  Flowers 
called  Flour  is  kings. — The  Retird  Gardiner,  chap.  iii. 

—fj\/\f\j^ — 

MANDELSLO      A  traveller  %uho  visited  England  in   1640  thtis  desa-ibes  the   Garden  at 
(1640.)  Theobalds,  the  Palace  of  James  /.— 

TT  is  large  and  square,  having  all  its  walls  covered  with  sillery 
and  a  beautiful  jet  d'eau  in  the  centre.  The  parterre  hath 
many  pleasant  walks,  many  of  which  are  planted  on  the  sides  with 
espaliers,  and  others  arched  over.  Some  of  the  trees  are  limes 
and  elms,  and  at  the  end  is  a  small  mount  called  the  Motmt  of 
Venus,  which  is  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  labyrinth  and  is  upon 
the  whole,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  the  world. — '  Voyages 
de  Mandelslo '  {quoted  by  Daines  Barri?igton). 

— A/wv^- 

SIR  JOHN  A  FTER  what  I  have  said  of  the  number  and  beauty  of  the 

CHARDIN         j-\     flQ^grs  in  Persia,  one  might  easily  imagine  that  the  most 

beautiful  gardens  in  the  world  are  to  be  found  there;  but  this 


CHARLES  DUFRESNY  127 

is  not  at  all  the  case.  On  the  contrary,  by  a  rule  I  find  very 
general  where  nature  is  fertile  and  aisee,  art  is  coarser  and  more 
unknown,  as  in  this  matter  of  gardens.  This  happens  from  the 
fact  that  when  Nature  is  so  excellent  a  gardener,  if  I  may  so 
express  it,  there  is  nothing  for  art  to  do.  The  Gardens  of  the 
Persians  consist  commonly  of  a  grand  alley  or  straight  avenue 
in  the  centre,  planted  with  plane  (the  zinzar,  or  Chenar  of  the 
East),  which  divides  the  garden  into  two  parts.  There  is  a 
basin  of  water  in  the  middle,  proportionate  to  the  garden,  and 
two  other  lesser  ones  on  the  two  sides.  The  space  between 
them  is  sown  with  a  mixture  of  flowers  in  natural  confusion, 
and  planted  with  fruit  trees  and  roses  ;  and  this  is  the  whole 
of  the  plan  and  execution.  They  know  nothing  of  parterres 
and  cabinets  of  verdure,  labyrinths,  terraces  and  such  other 
ornaments  of  our  gardens.  The  reason  of  which  is,  that  the 
Persians  do  not  walk  in  their  gardens,  as  we  do;  but  content 
themselves  with  having  the  view  of  them,  and  breathing  the 
fresh  air.  For  this  purpose  they  seat  themselves  in  some  part 
of  the  garden  as  soon  as  they  come  into  it,  and  remain  there 
till  they  go  out. — Travels  into  Persia  (1686). 

"  Of  the  older  travellers  (in  Persia)  the  palm  will  be  conceded, 
nemine  contradicente,  to  the  French  Huguenot,  and  English  Knight, 
Chardin.  He  is  apt  to  exaggerate,  and  he  cannot  invariably  be 
relied  upon,  but  he  is  always  painstaking,  frequently  ingenious, 
and  not  seldom  profound." — Ho?i.  George  N.  Curzon.  ^^ Persia'' 
(1892). 

—'J\I\f\lM 

Said  to  be  descended  from  a  natural  son  of  Henry  IV.  and  the  wife  of  a  CHARLES 
gardener  ;  a  very  irregular  7nan  in  every  way  ;  itnproviser  alike  of  gardens  and  DUFRESNY 
co?nedies  ;  the  soi-disant  rival  of  Lenotre  ;  laid  out  the  Gardens  of  Mignaux,  near  (lo4°"'724)' 
Poissy,  and  of  the  Abbe  Pajot,  jiear  Vincennes ;  zuas  valet  de  Chambre  to  Louis 
XIV.  ;  a  ^^  man  of  ideas"  one  of  which  Montesqtneti  adopted  in  his  '■'■  Letters 
Persanes" ;  collaborated  with  Regnard,  and  had  something  in  him  of  Marivatix — 
i^Brunetiere). 

The  first  indications  by  the  Jesuits  of  Chinese  gardens  (1690)  had  strtick  his 
ardent  and  paradoxical  imagination.     He  loved  to  work  upon  an  uttequal  and 


128  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

inrgii/ar  ground  {Alphana).  He  wanled  obstacles  to  overrome,  if  there  ivne 
none,  he  raised  a  mountain  on  a  plain. 

His  style  had  something  of  the  modern  English  manner,  bit  I  his  projects  were 
rarely  carried  into  execution.  Gabriel  Thotnn  asserts  {^'  Plans  A'aisonn^s,") 
that  the  first  example  of  7?iodern  Landscape  gardening  was  given  by  Dufresny 
in  the  Faubourg  St  Antoine. 

— ^A^/W^ 

ENGELBERT      Doctor  and  Traveller.     Born  at  Lemsow  in   Westphalia ;  travelled  while 
^V'^"^'\^^"-    youth  in  North  Germany,  Holland  and  Poland ;  at  t,2  joined  Swedish  Diplo- 
•^       '  matic  service  and  travelled  throttgh  Russia  and  Tartary  to  Ispahan.     Entered 

Dutch  East  India  Company  as  surgeon  and  sailed  to  Batavia  (i688)  and  Japan 
(1690),  with  tvhich  countries  the  Dutch  were  then  the  only  traders.  1694, 
returned  to  Europe,  first  to  Leydcn  then  Lemgow  where  he  wrote  '^^  History 
of  Japan"  (1727-8)  and  *^  Amcctiitates  Exoticce"  and  practised  as  Physician. 
Kdmpfer  is  called  by  Air  B.  H.  Chamberlain  '''the  scientific  discoverer  of 
Japan." 

'T^HE  Garden  is  the  only  place  we  Dutchmen,  being  treated  in 
*■  all  respects  little  better  than  prisoners,  have  liberty  to  walk 
into.  It  takes  in  all  the  room  behind  the  house,  it  is  commonly 
square,  with  a  back  door,  and  wall'd  in  very  neatly  like  a  cistern 
or  pond,  for  which  reason  it  is  called  Tsubo,  which  in  the 
Japanese  language  signifies  a  large  water-trough  or  cistern.  If 
there  be  not  room  enough  for  a  garden,  they  have  at  least  an  old 
ingrotted  plane,  cherry  or  apricock  tree.  The  older,  the  more 
crooked  and  monstrous  this  tree  is,  the  greater  value  they  put 
upon  it.  Sometimes  they  let  the  branches  grow  into  the  rooms.  .  . 
If  the  Tsiibo  or  Garden  be  a  good  one,  it  must  have  at  least 
30  foot  square  and  consist  of  the  following  essential  parts. 
I.  The  ground  is  partly  cover'd  with  roundish  stones,  of  different 
colours,  gather'd  in  rivers  or  upon  the  sea-shore,  well-wash'd  and 
clean'd,  and  those  of  the  same  kind  laid  together  in  form  of  beds, 
partly  with  gravel,  which  is  swept  every  day,  and  kept  clean  and 
neat  to  admiration,  the  large  stones  being  laid  in  the  middle,  as 
a  path  to  walk  upon,  without  injuring  the  gravel,  the  whole  in  a 
seeming  but  ingenious  confusion.  2.  Some  few  flower-bearing 
plants  planted  confusedly,  tho'  not  without  some  certain  rules. 


JOHN  WORLIDGE  129 

Amidst  the  plants  stands  sometimes  a  Saguer,  as  they  call  it,  or 
scarce  outlandish  tree,  sometimes  a  dwarf-tree  or  two.  3.  A 
small  rock  or  hill  in  a  corner  of  the  garden,  made  in  imitation 
of  nature,  curiously  adorn'd  with  birds  and  insects,  cast  in  brass, 
and  placed  between  the  stones,  sometimes  the  model  of  a  temple 
stands  upon  it,  built,  as  for  the  sake  of  the  prospect  they  generally 
are,  on  a  remarkable  eminence,  or  the  borders  of  a  precipice 
Often  a  small  rivulet  rushes  down  the  stones  with  an  agreeable 
noise,  the  whole  in  due  proportions  and  as  near  as  possible 
resembhng  nature.  4.  A  small  bush,  or  wood,  on  the  side  of  the 
hill,  for  which  the  gardiners  chuse  such  trees,  as  will  grow  close 
to  one  another,  and  plant  and  cut  them  according  to  their 
largeness,  nature,  and  the  colour  of  their  flowers  and  leaves,  so 
as  to  make  the  whole  very  accurately  imitate  a  natural  wood,  or 
forest.  5.  A  cistern  or  pond,  as  mention'd  above,  with  alive  fish 
kept  in  it,  and  surrounded  with  proper  plants,  that  is  such,  as  love 
a  watry  soil,  and  would  lose  their  beauty  and  greeness  if  planted 
in  a  dry  ground.  It  is  a  particular  profession  to  lay  out  these 
gardens,  and  to  keep  them  so  curiously  and  nicely  as  they  ought 
to  be,  as  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  to  shew  more  at  large  in 
the  sequel  of  this  history.  Nor  doth  it  require  less  skill  and 
ingenuity  to  contrive  and  fit  out  the  rocks  and  hills  above 
mention'd  according  to  the  rules  of  art.  What  I  have  hitherto 
observed  will  be  sufficient  to  give  the  reader  a  general  idea  of 
the  Inns  of  Japan — History  of  Japan. 

Author  of  '  Systema  Agriailtur(^'  1669,  and  '  Systema  HorticulturcE,'  1677.  JOHN 

Tr       ^     ^      •     u  .  -c    .  A  X.  ■  WORLIDGE 

HE  excellency  of  a  Garden  is  better  manifested  by  experi-  ^jy^j  cent.). 
ence,  which  is  the  best  Mistress,  than  indicated  by  an 
imperfect  Pen,  which  can  never  sufficiently  convince  the  Reader 
of  those  transcendent  pleasures,  that  the  Owner  of  a  Complete 
Garden  with  its  Magnificent  Ornaments,  its  Stately  Groves,  and 
infinite  variety  of  never  dying  Objects  of  Delight  every  day  enjoys ; 
Nor  how  all   his   Senses  are   satiated  with   the  great  variety  of 

I 


I30  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Objects  it  yields  to  every  of  them :  Nor  what  an  influence 
they  have  upon  the  passions  of  the  mind,  reducing  a  discomposed 
fancy  to  a  more  sedate  temper  by  contemplating  on  those 
miracles  of  Nature  Gardens  afford ;  deemed  Miracles  because 
their  admired  and  strange  forms  and  effects  proceed  from  occult 
causes.  ... 

The  Italians,  in  the  time  of  their  Ancient  Glory,  thought  no 
Palace  nor  Habitation  Complete  without  its  Garden,  on  which 
they  spared  for  no  cost  as  well  in  their  forming.  ■! 

Neither  is  there  a  noble  or  pleasant  seat  in  England,  but  hath  * 

its  gardens  for  pleasure  and  delight.  So  that  we  may,  without 
vanity,  conclude,  that  a  garden  of  pleasant  avenues,  walks,  fruits, 
flowers,  grots,  and  other  branches  springing  from  it,  well  composed, 
is  the  only  complete  and  permanent  inanimate  object  of  delight 
the  world  affords. — Sysfema  HorticultiircB. 


CHAPTER  VI 

DECLINE  OF  THE  FORMAL,  AND  EARLY  INDICATIONS  OF  THE 
NATURAL  OR  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN  IN  THE  FIRST  HALF  OF 
THE   EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY 


W 


ANSTEAD,  the  noble  seat  of  Sir  Richard  Child,  with  the  DANIEL 
finest  gardens  in  the  world.  You  descend  from  the  Salon  P^^^^ 
into  the  parterre,  which  hath  a  Canal  in  the  middle  ;  on  the  right 
a  wilderness,  and  on  the  left  a  fine  green  walk,  which  ends  in  a 
banqueting  house.  On  one  side  of  this  green  walk  stands  the 
green-house,  finely  adorned  with  statues,  and  uncommonly  furnished 
with  greens  :  while  behind  this  green-house  are  variety  of  high- 
hedged  walks,  affording  delicious  vistas.  At  the  bottom  of  the 
canal  is  a  bowling-green  encircled  with  grottos  and  seats,  with 
antique  statues  between  each  seat ;  this  bowling-green  is  separated 
by  a  balustrade  of  iron  from  another  long  green  walk,  which  leads 
you  to  another  long  canal. 

On  Richmond  Green  is  a  fine  house  and  gardens,  made  by  Sir 
Charles  Hedges,  but  now  belonging  to  Sir  Matthew  Decker,  which 
are  very  curios.  The  longest,  largest,  and  highest  hedge  of  holly 
I  ever  saw  is  in  this  garden,  with  several  other  hedges  of  ever- 
greens, vistas  cut  through  woods,  grottos  with  fountains,  and  a 
fine  canal  running  up  from  the  river.  His  duckery,  which  is 
an  oval  pond  bricked  round,  and  his  pretty  summer-house  by  it, 
in  which  to  drink  a  bottle,  his  stove  houses,  which  are  always 
kept  of  an  equal  heat  for  his  citrons  and  other  Indian  plants,  with 
gardeners  brought  from  foreign  countries  to  manage  them,  are 
very  curious  and  entertaining. 

Sutton  Court  is  U7ie  bijoux;  it  hath  three  parterres  from  the  Sutton  Court, 
three  fronts  of  the  house,  each  finely  adorned  with  statues.     The 


132  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

gardens  are  irregular,  but  that,  I  think,  adds  to  their  beauty,  for 
every  walk  affords  variety ;  the  hedges,  grottos,  statues,  mounts, 
and  canals,  are  so  many  surprising  beauties. 

Durdans.  There  are  several  very  good  seats  in  and  about  Epsom.  That 
of  Lord  Guildford,  called  Durdans,  at  the  extremity  of  the  village, 
was  built  by  the  Earl  of  Barclay  out  of  the  materials  of  Nonsuch, 
a  royal  palace  in  this  neighbourhood,  built  by  Henry  VIII.,  and 
given  by  King  Charles  II.  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  who 
pulled  it  down  and  sold  the  materials.  This  house  of  Durdans  is 
built  a-la-moderne  of  free-stone  ;  the  front  to  the  garden,  and  that 
to  the  Downs,  are  very  noble ;  the  apartments  within  are  also  very 
regular,  and  in  the  garden  is  the  most  charming  grove  imaginable; 
famous  for  that  scene  of  love  between  Lord  Grey  and  his  lady's 
sister,  which  you  have  read  of 

Cannons.  The  parterre  fronting  the  west  is  separated  from  the  great 
avenue,  and  the  great  court  leading  to  the  great  staircase  by 
balustrades  of  iron,  as  it  is  also  from  the  gardens  on  the  other 
side.  There  is  a  large  terrace  walk,  from  whence  you  descend  to 
the  parterre ;  this  parterre  hath  a  row  of  gilded  vases  on  pedestals 
on  each  side  down  to  the  great  canal,  and  in  the  middle  fronting 
the  canal,  is  a  gladiator,  gilded  also ;  through  the  whole  parterre, 
abundance  of  statues  as  big  as  the  life,  are  regularly  disposed. 
The  canal  runs  a  great  way,  and  indeed  one  would  wonder 
to  see  such  a  vast  quantity  of  water  in  a  country  where  are 
neither  rivers  or  springs;  but  they  tell  me  that  the  Duke 
hath  his  water  in  pipes  from  the  mountains  of  Stanmore,  about 
two  miles  off.  The  gardens  are  very  large  and  well  disposed ; 
but  the  greatest  pleasure  of  all  is  that  the  divisions  of  the 
whole,  being  only  made  by  balustrades  of  iron  and  not  by 
walls,  you  see  the  whole  at  once,  be  you  in  what  part  of  the 
garden  or  parterre  you  will. — A  Journey  through  England  and 
Scotland  in  1714. 

-w\/\/Vv— 


STEPHEN  SWITZER 


^33 


Professional  garde ne7-  and  seedstnan  in  the  reign  of  Anne  and  George  /.,  STEPHEN 
and  for  several  years  a  pupil  of  London  and  Wise,  under  the  former  of  whom  S\w  IT  Zr-K 
he  was  tviployed  in  1706  in  laying  oiit  the  grounds  at  Blenheim.      His  own  ^       ^'   '45/- 
garden  was  at  Milbank.    (See  G.  IV.  Johnson's  'History  of  English  Gardening,' 
for  a  long  analysis  of  his  chief  work  '  Ichttographia  Rustica.') 

IF  a  little  Regularity  is  allow'd  near  the  main  Building  and  as 
*  soon  as  the  Designer  has  stroke  out  by  Art  some  of  the 
roughest  and  boldest  of  his  strokes,  he  ought  to  pursue  Nature 
afterwards,  and  by  as  many  Twinings  and  Windings  as  his 
Villa  will  allow,  will  endeavour  to  diversify  his  Views,  always 
striving  that  they  may  be  so  intermixt,  as  not  to  be  all  discover'd 
at  once ;  but  that  there  should  be  as  much  as  possible,  some- 
thing appearing  new  and  diverting,  while  the  whole  should  corre- 
spond together  by  the  magic  Error  of  its  natural  Avenues  and 
Meanders.  .  .  .  And  to  the  End  that  he  may  know  the  better, 
how  to  make  the  best  use  of  natural  Advantage,  he  ought  to  make 
himself  Master  of  all  Rural  Scenes :  And  the  Writings  of  the 
Poets  on  this  Subject,  will  give  him  considerable  Hints,  for  in 
Design  the  Designer  as  well  as  the  Poet  should  take  as  much  Pains 
i?i  forj?iing  his  Imagination,  as  a  Philosopher  in  cultivating  his 
Understanding. — Ichnographia  Rustica,  1742  {first  editio?i  17 18). 

— A/WVv — 

I  WISH   I  were  just  now  in  my  little  garden  at   Laracor.     I  JONATHAN 
would  set  out  for  Dublin  early  on  Monday  and  bring  you  (^657    -  r^ 
an  account  of  my  young  trees,  which  you  are  better  acquainted 
with  than  the  ministry,  and  so  am  I. 

It  is  now  high  cherry  time  with  us;  take  notice  is  it  so 
soon  with  you  ?  And  we  have  early  apricots  ',  and  gooseberries 
are  ripe. — {Kensington,  July  1,  1712.) 

^  Swift  had  an  odd  humour  of  making  extempore  proverbs.  Observing 
that  a  gentleman,  in  whose  garden  he  walked  with  some  friends,  seemed  to 
have  no  intention  to  request  them  to  eat  any  of  the  fruit,  Swift  observed, 
'  It  was  a  saying  of  his  dear  grandmother. 

Always  pull  a  peach 
When  it  is  within  your  reach ' ; 

and  helping  himself  accordingly,   his  example  was   followed  by  the  whole 
company. — Sir  W.  Scott:  Memoirs  o''^ Jonathan  Swift. 


134  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Pray  why  don't  MD  go  to  'Trim,  and  see  Laracor,  and  give 
me  an  account  of  the  garden,  and  the  river,  and  the  holly 
and  the  cherry-trees  on  the  river-walk. — Journal  to  Stella. 

-w\/\/Vv— 

JOSEPH  C  IR, — Having  lately  read  your  essay  on  The  Pleasures  of  the 
ADDISON  vJ  Imagination,  I  was  so  taken  with  your  thoughts  upon 
some  of  our  English  gardens,  that  I  cannot  forbear  troubling 
you  with  a  letter  upon  that  subject.  I  am  one,  you  must  know, 
who  am  looked  upon  as  a  humourist  in  gardening.  I  have 
several  acres  about  my  house,  which  I  call  my  garden,  and 
which  a  skilful  gardener  would  not  know  what  to  call.  It  is 
a  confusion  of  kitchen  and  parterre,  orchard  and  flower-garden, 
which  lie  so  mixt  and  interwoven  with  one  another,  that  if  a 
foreigner,  who  had  seen  nothing  of  our  country,  should  be 
conveyed  into  my  garden  at  his  first  landing,  he  would  look 
upon  it  as  a  natural  wilderness,  and  one  of  the  uncultivated 
parts  of  our  country.  My  flowers  grow  up  in  several  parts 
of  the  garden  in  the  greatest  luxuriancy  and  profusion.  I  am 
so  far  from  being  fond  of  any  particular  one,  by  reason 
of  its  rarity,  that  if  I  meet  with  any  one  in  a  field 
which  pleases  me,  I  give  it  a  place  in  my  garden.  By 
this  means,  when  a  stranger  walks  with  me,  he  is  surprised  to  see 
several  large  spots  of  ground  covered  with  ten  thousand  different 
colours,  and  has  often  singled  out  flowers  he  might  have  met  with 
under  a  common  hedge,  in  a  field,  or  in  a  meadow,  as  some  of  the 
greatest  beauties  of  the  place.  The  only  method  I  observe  in  this 
particular,  is  to  range  in  the  same  quarter  the  products  of  the  same 
season,  that  they  may  make  their  appearance  together,  and  com- 
pose a  picture  of  the  greatest  variety.  There  is  the  same  irregularity 
in  my  plantations,  which  run  into  as  great  a  wilderness  as  their 
natures  will  permit.  I  take  in  none  that  do  not  naturally  rejoice 
in  the  soil ;  and  am  pleased,  when  I  am  walking  in  a  labyrinth 
of  my  own  raising,  not  to  know  whether  the  next  tree  I  shall  meet 
with  is  an  apple  or  an  oak ;  an  elm  or  a  pear  tree.  My  kitchen 
has  likewise  its  particular  quarters  assigned  it;   for  besides  the 


JOSEPH  ADDISON  135 

wholesome  luxury  which  that  place  abounds  with,  I  have  always 
thought  a  kitchen  garden  a  more  pleasant  sight  than  the  finest 
orangery,  or  artificial  greenhouse.  I  love  to  see  everything  in 
its  perfection :  and  am  more  pleased  to  survey  my  rows  of  cole- 
worts  and  cabbages,  with  a  thousand  nameless  pot-herbs,  springing 
up  in  their  full  fragrancy  and  verdure,  than  to  see  the  tender  plants 
of  foreign  countries  kept  alive  by  artificial  heats,  or  withering  in 
an  air  and  soil  that  are  not  adapted  to  them.  I  must  not  omit, 
that  there  is  a  fountain  rising  in  the  upper  part  of  my  garden, 
which  forms  a  little  wandering  rill,  and  administers  to  the  pleasure 
as  well  as  the  plenty  of  the  place.  I  have  so  conducted  it  that  it 
visits  most  of  my  plantations ;  and  have  taken  particular  care  to 
let  it  run  in  the  same  manner  as  it  would  do  in  an  open  field,  so 
that  it  generally  passes  through  banks  of  violets  and  primroses, 
plats  of  willow  or  other  plants,  that  seem  to  be  of  its  own  pro- 
ducing. There  is  another  circumstance  in  which  I  am  very 
particular,  or,  as  my  neighbours  call  me,  very  whimsical ;  as  my 
garden  invites  into  it  all  the  birds  of  the  country,  by  offering  them 
the  conveniency  of  springs  and  shades,  solitude  and  shelter,  I  do 
not  suffer  any  one  to  destroy  their  nests  in  the  Spring,  or  drive 
them  from  their  usual  haunts  in  fruit-time ;  I  value  my  garden 
more  for  being  full  of  blackbirds  than  cherries,  and  very  frankly 
give  them  fruit  for  their  songs.  By  this  means  I  have  always  the 
music  of  the  season  in  its  perfection,  and  am  highly  delighted  to 
see  the  jay  or  the  thrush  hopping  about  my  walks,  and  shooting 
before  my  eye  across  the  several  little  glades  and  alleys  that  I 
pass  through.  I  think  there  are  as  many  kinds  of  gardening  as  of 
poetry :  your  makers  of  parterres  and  flower-gardens  are  epigram- 
matists and  sonneteers  in  this  art ;  contrivers  of  bowers  and  grottos, 
treillages  and  cascades,  are  romance  writers.  Wise  and  London 
are  our  heroic  poets  ;  and  if,  as  a  critic,  I  may  single  out  any 
passage  of  their  works  to  commend,  I  shall  take  notice  of  that 
part  in  the  upper  garden  at  Kensington,  which  was  at  first  nothing 
but  a  gravel  pit.  It  must  have  been  a  fine  genius  for  gardening, 
that  could  have  thought  of  forming  such  an  unsightly  hollow  into 
so  beautiful  an  area,  and  to  have  hit  the  eye  with  so  uncommon 


136  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

and  agreeable  a  scene  as  that  which  it  is  now  wrought  into. 
To  give  this  particular  spot  of  ground  the  greater  effect,  they 
have  made  a  very  pleasing  contrast ;  for  as  on  one  side  of 
the  walk  you  see  this  hollow  basin,  with  its  several  little 
plantations,  lying  so  conveniently  under  the  eye  of  the  be- 
holder, on  the  other  side  of  it  there  appears  a  seeming  mount, 
made  up  of  trees,  rising  one  higher  than  another,  in  pro- 
portion as  they  approach  the  centre.  A  spectator,  who  has 
not  heard  this  account  of  it,  would  think  this  circular  mount 
was  not  only  a  real  one,  but  that  it  actually  had  been  scooped 
out  of  that  hollow  space  which  I  have  before  mentioned.  I 
never  yet  met  anyone  who  has  walked  in  this  garden,  who  was 
not  struck  with  that  part  of  it  which  I  have  here  mentioned. 
As  for  myself,  you  will  find,  by  the  account  which  I  have  already 
given  you,  that  my  compositions  in  gardening  are  altogether 
after  the  Pindaric  manner,  and  run  into  the  beautiful  wildness 
of  nature,  without  affecting  the  nicer  elegancies  of  art.  What 
I  am  now  going  to  mention,  will,  perhaps,  deserve  your  atten- 
tion more  than  anything  I  have  yet  said.  I  find,  that  in  the 
discourse  which  I  spoke  of  in  the  beginning  of  my  letter,  you 
are  against  filling  an  English  garden  with  evergreens ;  and  indeed 
I  am  so  far  of  your  opinion,  that  I  can  by  no  means  think  the 
verdure  of  an  evergreen  comparable  to  that  which  shoots  out 
annually,  and  clothes  our  trees  in  the  summer  season.  But  I 
have  often  wondered  that  those  who  are  like  myself,  and  love 
to  Uve  in  gardens,  have  never  thought  of  contriving  a  winter 
garden,  which  should  consist  of  such  trees  only  as  never  cast 
their  leaves.  We  have  very  often  little  snatches  of  sunshine 
and  fair  weather  in  the  most  uncomfortable  parts  of  the  year,  > 

and   have  frequently  several   days   in   November   and   January  ji| 

that  are  as  agreeable  as  any  in  the  finest  months.  At  such 
times,  therefore,  I  think  there  could  not  be  a  greater  pleasure 
than  to  walk  in  such  a  winter  garden  as  I  have  proposed.  In 
the  summer  season,  the  whole  country  blooms,  and  is  a  kind  of 
garden ;  for  which  reason  we  are  not  so  sensible  of  those  beauties 
that  at  this  time  may  be  everywhere  met  with ;  but  when  Nature 


JOSEPH  ADDISON  137 

is  in  her  desolation,  and  presents  us  with  nothing  but  bleak  and 
barren  prospects,  there  is  something  unspeakably  cheerful  in  a 
spot  of  ground  which  is  covered  with  trees  that  smile  amidst 
all  the  rigours  of  winter,  and  give  us  a  view  of  the  most  gay 
season,  in  the  midst  of  that  which  is  most  dead  and  melancholy. 
I  have  so  far  indulged  myself  in  this  thought,  that  I  have  set 
apart  a  whole  acre  of  ground  for  the  executing  of  it.  The  walls 
are  covered  with  ivy  instead  of  vines.  The  laurel,  the  horn- 
beam, and  the  holly,  with  many  other  trees  and  plants  of  the 
same  nature,  grow  so  thick  in  it  that  you  cannot  imagine  a  more 
lively  scene.  The  glowing  redness  of  the  berries  with  which 
they  are  hung  at  this  time,  vies  with  the  verdure  of  their  leaves, 
and  is  apt  to  inspire  the  heart  of  the  beholder  with  that  vernal 
delight  which  you  have  somewhere  taken  notice  of  in  your  former 
papers.  It  is  very  pleasant,  at  the  same  time  to  see  the  several 
kinds  of  birds  retiring  into  this  little  green  spot,  and  enjoying 
themselves  amongst  the  branches  and  foliage,  when  my  great 
garden,  which  I  have  before  mentioned  to  you,  does  not  afford 
a  single  leaf  for  their  shelter. 

You  must  know.  Sir,  that  I  look  upon  the  pleasure  which  we 
take  in  a  Garden,  as  one  of  the  most  innocent  delights  in  human 
life.  A  Garden  was  the  habitation  of  our  first  parents  before 
the  fall.  It  is  naturally  apt  to  fill  the  mind  with  calmness  and 
tranquillity,  and  to  lay  all  its  turbulent  passions  at  rest.  It  gives 
us  a  great  insight  into  the  contrivance  and  wisdom  of  providence, 
and  suggests  innumerable  subjects  for  meditation.  I  cannot  but 
think  the  very  complacency  and  satisfaction  which  a  man  takes 
in  these  works  of  Nature  to  be  a  laudable  if  not  a  virtuous  habit 
of  mind.  For  all  which  reasons  I  hope  you  will  pardon  the 
length  of  my  present  letter. 

I  am,  Sir,  etc. 
— The  Spectator,  No.  477  {Saturday,  Sept.  6,  1712). 

Writers  who  have  given  us  an  account  of  China,  tell  us  the 
inhabitants  of  that  country  laugh  at  the  plantations  of  our 
Europeans,   which  are  laid  out  by  the  rule  and  line  ;  because 


138  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

they  say,  any  one  may  place  trees  in  equal  rows  and  uniform 
figures. 

They  choose  rather  to  shew  a  genius  in  works  of  this  nature, 
and  therefore  always  conceal  the  art  by  which  they  direct  them- 
selves. They  have  a  word,  it  seems,  in  their  language,  by  which 
they  express  the  particular  beauty  of  a  plantation,  that  thus  strikes 
the  imagination  at  first  sight,  without  discovering  what  it  is,  that 
has  so  agreeable  an  effect. 

Our  British  gardeners,  on  the  contrary,  instead  of  humouring 
nature,  love  to  deviate  from  it  as  much  as  possible.  Our  trees 
rise  in  cones,  globes,  and  pyramids.  We  see  the  marks  of  the 
scissors  upon  every  plant  and  bush.  I  do  not  know  whether  I 
am  singular  in  my  opinion,  but  for  my  own  part,  I  would  rather 
look  upon  a  tree  in  all  its  luxuriancy  and  diffusion  of  boughs  and 
branches,  than  when  it  is  thus  cut  and  trimmed  into  a  mathe- 
matical figure :  and  cannot  but  fancy  that  an  orchard  in  flower 
looks  infinitely  more  delightful,  than  all  the  little  labyrinths  of 
the  most  finished  parterre.  But  as  our  great  modellers  of 
gardens  have  their  magazines  of  plants  to  dispose  of,  it  is  very 
natural  for  them  to  tear  up  all  the  beautiful  plantations  of  fruit- 
trees,  and  contrive  a  plan  that  may  most  turn  to  their  own  profit, 
in  taking  off  their  evergreens,  and  the  like  movable  plants,  with 
which  their  shops  are  plentifully  stocked. — The  Spectator,  No.  414. 
Wednesday,  June  25,  17 12. 

I  have  often  looked  upon  it  as  a  piece  of  happiness  that  I  have 
never  fallen  into  any  of  these  fantastical  tastes,  nor  esteemed 
anything  the  more  for  its  being  uncommon  and  hard  to  be  met 
with.  For  this  reason  I  look  upon  the  whole  country  in  Spring- 
time as  a  spacious  garden,  and  make  as  many  visits  to  a  spot  of 
daisies,  or  a  bank  of  violets,  as  a  florist  does  to  his  borders  or 
parterres. 

There  is  not  a  bush  in  blossom  within  a  mile  of  me,  which  I 
am  not  acquainted  with,  nor  scarce  a  daffodil  or  cowslip  that 
withers  away  in  my  neighbourhood  without  my  missing  it.  I 
walked  home  in  this  temper  of  mind  through  several  fields  and 
meadows  with  an  unspeakable  pleasure,  not  without  reflecting  on 


SAINT-SIMON  139 

the  bounty  of  providence,  which  has  made  the  most  pleasing  and 
most  beautiful  objects  the  most  ordinary  and  most  common. — 
The  Tatler,  No,  218. 

Soldier,  Diploniatist,  Historian.  SAINT- 

f   'HERMITAGE  (de  Marly)  fut  fait :   ce  n'etait  que  pour  y  (1675-1755). 

^     coucher  trois  nuits  du  Mercredi  au  Samedi,  deux  ou  trois 

fois  I'annee,  avec  une  douzaine  de  courtisans  en  charge,  les  plus 

indispensables ;  peu  a  peu  I'herraitage  fut  augmente.     D'accroisse- 

ment  en  accroissement  les  collines  furent  taillees  pour  faire  place 

et  y  batir,  et  celles  du  bout  legerement  emportees  pour  donner 

au  moins  une  echappee  de  vue  fort  imparfaite.    Enfin  en  batiments, 

en  jardins,  en  eaux,  en  aqueducs,  en  ce  qui  est  si  curieux  sous 

le  nom  de  Machine  de  Marly,  en  pares,  en  forets  ornees  et  en- 

fermees,  en  statues,  en  meubles  precieux,  en  grands  arbres  qu'on 

y  a  apportes  sans  cesse  de  Compiegne  et  de  bien  plus  loin,  dont 

les  trois  quarts  mouraient,  et  qu'on  remplacait  aussitot,  en  allees 

obscures  subitement  changees  en  d'immenses  pieces  d'eau  ou  Ton 

se  promenait  en  gondoles,  en  remises,  en  forets  a  n'y  pas  voir 

le  jour  des  le  moment  qu'on  les  plantait,  en  bassins  changes  cent 

fois,  en  cascades  de  meme,  en  figures  successives  et  toutes  differ- 

entes,  en  sejours  de  carpes  ornes  de  dorures,  et  de  peintures  les 

plus  exquises,  a  peine  acheves,  rechanges  et  retablis  par  les  memes 

maitres  une  infinite  de  fois ;  que  si  on  ajoute  les  depenses  de  ces 

continuels  voyages   qui  devinrent  enfin  egaux   aux   sejours    de 

Versailles,  souvent  presque  aussi  nombreux,  et  tout  a  la  fin  de 

la  vie  du  roi,  le  sejour  le  plus  ordinaire,  on  ne  dira  pas  trop  sur 

Marly  en  comptant  par  milliards. — Memoirs. 

T  AM  in  my  farm,  and  here  I  shoot  strong  and  tenacious  roots.  HENRY 

^     I  have  caught  hold  of  the  earth,  to  use  a  gardener's  phrase,  f  npn^ 

and  neither  my  friends  nor  my  enemies  will  find  it  an  easy  matter  BOLING- 

lo  transplant  me  again. — Letter  to  Swift.  BROKE 

^  ^  ''  (1678-1751). 


I40  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

WILLIAM        Coach-painter,  portrait  and  historical  painter,  sculptor,  architect ,  furniture 
KENT  a7td  dress   designer,    and   landscape  gardener ;  patronised    by  the    Earl   of 

(1004-1740;.  Btirlingtojt,  the  great  amateur-architect,  with  whom  he  lived  and  died.  He 
sculptured  Shakespeare' s  monument  in  Westtninster  Abbey,  and  painted  an 
altar-piece  for  St  Cletnent  Dane's  Church,  of  St  Cecilia,  afterwards  removed  to 
the  Vestry  Hall.  Hogarth's  Caricature  '  The  Man  of  Taste  '  places  Kent  on 
the  stimmit  of  Burliiigton  Gate,  with  Pope  his  patron  lower  down ;  and  his 
opinion  of  Kent  as  a  painter  was  that  ^neither  England  nor  Italy  ever  produced 
a  more  contemptible  dauber.' 

WHEN  Kent  had  returned  to  England,  about  1730,  he  first 
distinguished  himself  as  an  architect  and  ornamental 
gardener  at  his  great  patron's,  Lord  Burlington's  villa  at  Chiswick  ; 
and  his  additions  to  the  plans  of  Bridgman  and  Vanbrugh,  at 
Stowe,  firmly  established  his  fame.  Esheri  and  Claremont  -  are 
cited  as  his  best  works ;  yet  the  garden  laid  out  for  General 
Dormer  at  Rousham,  in  Oxfordshire,  was  more  agreeable  to  our 
noble  author. 

Of  the  beautiful  scenes  which  have  been  created  upon  Kent's 
system,  and  since  his  death,  some  account  is  necessary  with  a 
view  to  the  date  and  progress  of  the  art. 

A  new  application  of  it,  comprehending  the  grounds  destined 
to  agriculture,  by  including  them  in  the  whole  scheme,  and  im- 
perceptibly connecting  them  with  the  more  embellished  portion, 
was  first  successfully  practised  by  Mr  Philip  Southcote,  at  Woburn 
farm,  in  Surrey.  Hence  the  origin  of  that  description  of  pleasure- 
ground  which  has  since  received  the  French  designation  oi  ferme 
ornee.  Pain's  hill,  in  the  same  country,  soon  followed  the  new 
attempt,  and  exceeded  it  in  point  of  taste,  variety,  and  extent. 
Its  author,  the  Hon.  C.  Hamilton,  was  a  man  of  genius,  who 
dedicated  all  his  powers  to  this  pursuit,  and  sad  to  say,  expended 
his  private  fortune  in  the  completion  of  improvements  which 
continually  presented  themselves. 

^  See  Illustration  in  Appendix. 

2  Whateley,  when  speaking  of  Kent's  work  at  Claremont,  confers  a  very 
elegant  eulogy,  and  communicates  an  idea  of  a  perfect  garden.  *  The  whole 
is  a  place  wherein  to  tarry  with  secure  delight,  or  to  saunter  with  perpetual 
amusement.' 


ALEXANDER  POPE  141 

Dr  Burgh  in  his  notes  on  the  English  Garden  calls  '  Bacon, 
the  prophet ;  Milton,  the  herald ;  and  Addison,  Pope  and  Kent, 
the  champions  of  this  true  taste  in  gardening,  because  they 
absolutely  brought  it  into  execution.' 

Mr  Price,  in  his  Essay  on  the  Picturesque,  objects  to  Kent, 
that  his  ideas  of  painting  were  uncommonly  mean,  contracted 
and  perverse ;  and  that  as  he  painted  trees  without  form,  so  he 
planted  them  without  life.  '  Kent,  it  is  true,  was  by  profession 
a  painter,  as  well  as  an  improver;  but  we  may  learn  from  his 
example  how  little  a  certain  degree  of  mechanical  practice  can 
quahfy  its  possessor  to  direct  the  taste  of  the  nation  in  either 
of  these  arts.' — Rev.  James  Dallaway,  '  Supplementary  Anecdotes 
of  Gardening  in  England.^ 

— %WVv^ 

I  TOW  contrary  to  this  simplicity  (of  Homer)  is  the  modern  ALEXANDER 

^  *     practice  of  gardening !     We  seem  to  make  it  our  study  to  ^^Ty" 

,    r  ,    •      1  ■  r  •       (1688-1744). 

recede  from  nature,  not  only  m  the  various  tonsure  or  greens  mto 

the  most  regular  and  formal  shape,  but  even  in  monstrous  attempts 

beyond  the  reach  of  the  art  itself :  we  run  into  sculpture,  and  are 

yet  better  pleased  to  have  our  trees  in  the  most  aukward  figures 

of  men  and  animals,  than  in  the  most  regular  of  their  own.  .  .  . 

A  citizen  is  no  sooner  proprietor  of  a  couple  of  yews,  but  he 

entertains  thoughts  of  erecting  them  into  giants,  like  those  of 

^  Mr  Pope  undoubtedly  contributed  to  form  his  (Kent's)  taste.  The  design 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales's  garden  at  Carlton  House  was  evidently  borrowed 
from  the  poet's  at  Twickenham.  There  was  a  little  of  affected  modesty  in  the 
latter,  when  he  said,  of  all  his  works  he  was  most  proud  of  his  garden.  And 
yet  it  was  a  singular  effort  of  art  and  taste  to  impress  so  much  variety  and 
scenery  on  a  spot  of  five  acres.  The  passing  through  the  gloom  from  the  grotto 
to  the  opening  day,  the  retiring  and  again  assembling  shades,  the  dusky  groves, 
the  larger  lawn,  and  the  solemnity  of  the  termination  at  the  cypresses  that  lead 
up  to  his  mother's  tomb,  are  managed  with  exquisite  judgment;  and  though 
Lord  Peterborough  assisted  him 

To  form  his  quincunx  and  to  rank  his  vines, 

those  were  not  the  most  pleasing  ingredients  of  his  little  perspective. — Horace 
Walpole .   On  Modern  Gardening. 


142  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Guildhall.  I  know  an  eminent  cook,  who  beautified  his  country- 
seat  with  a  coronation  -  dinner  in  greens,  where  you  see  the 
champion  flourishing  on  horseback  at  one  end  of  the  table,  and 
the  Queen  in  perpetual  youth  at  the  other. 

For  the  benefit  of  all  my  loving  countrymen  of  this  curious 
taste,  I  shall  here  publish  a  catalogue  of  greens  to  be  disposed  of 
by  an  eminent  town-gardener,  who  has  lately  applied  to  me  upon 
this  head.  He  represents  that  for  the  advancement  of  a  pohter 
sort  of  ornament  in  the  villas  and  gardens  adjacent  to  this  great 
city,  and  in  order  to  distinguish  those  places  from  the  mere 
barbarous  countries  of  gross  nature,  the  world  stands  much  in 
need  of  a  virtuoso  gardener,  who  has  a  turn  to  sculpture,  and  is 
thereby  capable  of  improving  upon  the  ancients  in  the  imagery 
of  evergreens.     I  proceed  to  this  catalogue : 

Adam  and  Eve  in  yew ;  Adam  a  little  shattered  by  the  fall  of 
the  tree  of  Knowledge  in  the  great  storm ;  Eve  and  the  serpent 
very  flourishing. 

Noah's  Ark  in  holly,  the  ribs  a  little  damaged  for  want  of 
water. 

The  tower  of  Babel  not  yet  finished. 

St.  George  in  Box ;  his  arm  scarce  long  enough,  but  will  be  in 
a  condition  to  stick  the  dragon  by  next  April. 

A  green  dragon  of  the  same,  with  a  tail  of  ground-ivy  for  the 
present. 

N.B. — Those  two  are  not  to  be  sold  separately. 

Edward  the  Black  Prince  in  Cypress.  .  .  . 

A  Queen  Elizabeth  in  Phyllirea,  a  little  inclining  to  the  Green 
sickness,  but  of  full  growth.  .  .  . 

An  old  Maid  of  honour  in  wormwood. 

A  topping  Ben  Johnson  in  Laurel. 

Divers  eminent  modern  poets  in  bays,  somewhat  blighted,  to 
be  disposed  of  a  penny  worth.  .  .  . — The  Guardian,  No.  173. 

I  can  afford  room  for  your  self  and  two  servants ;  I  have  indeed 
room  enough,  nothing  but  myself  at  home ;  the  kind  and  hearty 
house-wife  is  dead !   the  agreeable  and  instructive  neighbour  is 


ALEXANDER  POPE  143 

gone !  yet  my  house  is  inlarg'd,  and  the  gardens  extend  and 
flourish,  as  knowing  nothing  of  the  guests  they  have  lost.  I  have 
more  fruit-trees  and  kitchen  garden  than  you  have  any  thought 
of;  nay  I  have  good  Melons  and  Pine-apples  of  my  own  growth. 
I  am  as  much  a  better  Gardiner,  as  I  am  a  worse  Poet,  than 
when  you  saw  me :  but  gardening  is  near  a-kin  to  Philosophy,  for 
Tully  says  "  Agricultura  proxima  sapientiae."  For  God's  sake  why 
should  not  you  (that  are  a  step  higher  than  a  Philosopher,  a 
Divine,  yet  have  too  much  grace  and  wit  than  to  be  a  Bishop) 
e'en  give  all  you  have  to  the  poor  of  Ireland  (for  whom  you  have 
already  done  every  thing  else)  so  quit  the  place,  and  live  and  die 
.with  me  ?  And  let  "  Tales  Anim^e  Concordes  "  be  our  Motto  and 
our  Epitaph. — Letter  to  Dean  Swift,  March  25,  1736. 

Let  the  young  ladies  be  assured  I  make  nothing  new  in  my 
gardens,  without  wishing  to  see  the  print  of  their  fairy  steps  in 
every  part  of  them.  I  have  put  the  last  hand  to  my  works  of  this 
kind,  in  happily  finishing  the  subterraneous  way  and  grotto.  I 
there  found  a  spring  of  the  clearest  water,  which  falls  in  a  perpetual 
rill,  that  echoes  through  the  Cavern  day  and  night.  From  the 
river  Thames,  you  see  through  my  arch  up  a  walk  of  the  wilder- 
ness, to  a  kind  of  open  temple,  wholly  composed  of  shells  in  the 
rustic  manner;  and  from  that  distance  under  the  temple,  you  look 
down  through  a  sloping  arcade  of  trees,  and  see  the  sails  on  the 
river  passing  suddenly  and  vanishing  as  through  a  perspective 
glass.  When  you  shut  the  doors  of  this  grotto  it  becomes  on  the 
instant,  from  a  luminous  room,  a  Cajtiera  obscura,  on  the  walls 
of  which  all  the  objects  of  the  river,  hills,  woods  and  boats  are 
forming  a  moving  picture  in  their  visible  radiations;  and  when 
you  have  a  mind  to  light  it  up,  it  affords  you  a  very  different 
scene.  It  is  finished  with  shells  interspersed  with  pieces  of 
looking-glass  in  angular  forms ;  and  in  the  ceiling  is  a  star  of  the 
same  material,  at  which  when  a  lamp,  of  an  orbicular  figure  of 
thin  alabaster,  is  hung  in  the  middle,  a  thousand  pointed  rays 
glitter,  and  are  reflected  over  the  place.  There  are  connected  to 
this  grotto  by  a  narrower  passage  two  porches  with  niches  and 


144  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

seats, — one  towards  the  river,  of  smooth  stones,  full  of  light,  and 
open ;  the  other  towards  the  arch  of  trees,  rough  with  shells, 
flints  and  iron-ore.  The  bottom  is  paved  with  simple  pebble,  as 
the  adjoining  walk  up  the  wilderness  to  the  temple  is  to  be 
cockle-shells,  in  the  natural  taste,  agreeing  not  ill  with  the  little 
dripping  murmur,  and  the  aquatic  idea  of  the  whole  place.  It 
wants  nothing  to  complete  it  but  a  good  Statue  with  an  inscrip- 
tion, like  that  beautiful  antique  one  which  you  know  I  am  so 
fond  of: — 

"  Hujus  Nympha  loci,  sacri  custodia  fontis, 

Dormio,  dum  blandae  scntio  murmur  aquoe  ; 

Parce  meum,  quisquis  tangis  cava  murmura,  somnum 

Rumpere  ;  sive  bibas,  sive  lavare,  tace. 

"  Nymph  of  the  Grot,  those  sacred  springs  steep, 
And  to  the  murmur  of  these  waters  sleep  ; 
Ah,  spare  my  slumbers,  gently  tread  the  cave  ! 
And  drink  in  silence,  or  in  silence  lave." 

Letter  to  Edward  Blount,   Twickenham,  June  3,   1725. 

My  Lord  Chesterfield  tells  me  your  Lordship  has  got  ahead  of 
all  the  gardening  lords ;  that  you  have  distanced  Lord  Burlington 
and  Lord  Cobham  in  the  true  scientific  past ;  but  he  is  studying 
after  you,  and  has  here  lying  before  him  those  Thesauruses 
from  which  he  affirms  you  draw  all  your  knowledge — Miller's 
Dictionaries ;  but  I  informed  him  better,  and  told  him  your  chief 
lights  were  from  Johannes  Serlius,^  whose  books  he  is  now  enquiring 
for  of  Leake,  the  bookseller,  who  has  wrote  for  them  to  his  cor- 
respondents.— Letter  to  Lord  Marchmont,  1743. 

— rJ\f\IV' — 

iflONTESQUIEU  IT  is,  then,  the  pleasure  which  an  object  gives  us,  which  carries 
1689-1755).  1     yg  Qj^  |.Q  another  ;  it  is  for  this  reason  that  the  soul  is  always 

seeking  new  things,  and  is  never  at  rest. 

1  This  looks  like  a  joke  of  Pope's — John  Serle  being  his  gardener  and  fac- 
totum at  Twickenham,  who  has  left  a  "  Plan  of  Mr  Pope's  Garden  and  Grotto," 
and  an  account  of  the  materials  composing  the  latter,  published  by  Dodsley, 
1745.     (See  Plan  in  Appendix.) 


PHILIP  MILLER  145 

Thus,  you  will  be  always  certain  to  please  the  soul,  whenever 
you  show  it  many  things  or  more  than  it  had  hoped  to  see. 

In  this  way  may  be  explained  the  reason  why  we  take  pleasure 
in  seeing  a  perfectly  regular  garden,  and  yet  are  pleased  to  see  a 
wild  and  rural  spot ;  the  same  cause  produces  these  effects. 

As  we  like  to  see  a  large  number  of  objects,  we  would  wish  to 
extend  our  view,  to  be  in  several  places,  traverse  greater  space : 
in  short,  our  soul  escapes  from  bounds,  and  wishes,  so  to 
speak,  to  widen  the  sphere  of  its  presence;  and  derives 
great  pleasure  from  a  distant  view.  But  how  to  effect  this  ? 
In  towns,  our  view  is  confined  by  houses ;  in  the  country,  by 
a  thousand  obstacles  ;  we  can  scarcely  see  three  or  four  trees. 
Art  comes  to  our  assistance,  and  discovers  to  us  nature  which 
hides  itself;  we  love  art,  and  we  love  it  better  than  nature,  that 
is  to  say,  nature  concealed  from  our  eyes  :  but  when  we  find 
beautiful  situations,  when  our  unfettered  view  can  see  in  the 
distance  meadows,  streams,  hills,  and  these  dispositions  are, 
so  to  speak,  expressly  created,  it  is  enchanted  otherwise  than 
when  it  sees  the  gardens  of  Le  Notre ;  because  nature  does 
not  copy  itself,  whereas  art  always  bears  its  own  likeness.  That 
is  why,  in  painting,  we  prefer  a  landscape  to  the  plan  of  the  most 
beautiful  garden  in  the  world ;  it  is  because  painting  only  chooses 
nature  where  it  is  beautiful,  where  the  sight  can  extend  to  a 
distance  and  to  its  full  scope,  where  it  is  varied,  where  it  can  be 
viewed  with  pleasure. — Essay  on  Taste. 

— rA/\/\/v— 

"  Hortulmiorimi  Princeps :"  for  nearly  fifty  years  gaj'dener  to  the  Botanic  PHILIP 
Garden  at  Chelsea  belonging  to  the  company  of  Apothecaries.     '■'■In  him  the  MILLER, 
perfect  Botanist  and  Horticulturist  were  coinhified"  {G.  IV.  Johnson).  F.R.S. 

In  1792  appeared  the  gth  edition  of  his  '  Gardener  s  Dictionary^  edited  by  ^     9^'^7i^i» 
Professor  Mat-tyn  of  Cambridge,  it  having  been  already  translated  into  Dutch, 
German  and  French,     Linnceus  said  of  it,  ' '  Non  est  Lexicon  Hortulanorum 
sed  Botanicoru7n." 

'TpHE  Area  of  a  handsom  Garden  may  take  up  thirty  or  forty 
■*■       Acres,  not  more. 

And  as  for  the  Disposition  and  Distribution  of  this  Garden, 
the  following  Directions  may  be  observed. 

K 


146  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

I  St.  There  ought  always  to  be  a  Descent  from  the  house  to  the 
garden  not  fewer  than  three  steps.  This  elevation  of  the  Building 
will  make  it  more  dry  and  wholesome :  Also,  from  the  Head  of 
these  steps  there  will  be  a  prospect  or  view  of  a  great  part  of 
the  Garden. 

In  a  fine  Garden,  the  first  thing  that  should  present  itself  to 
the  sight,  is  a  parterre,  which  should  be  next  to  the  House, 
whether  in  the  front  or  on  the  sides,  as  well  upon  account  of  the 
Opening  it  affords  to  the  House,  as  for  the  Beauty  with  which  it 
constantly  entertains  the  sight  from  all  the  windows  on  that  side 
of  the  House. 

As  for  the  Parterres,  they  must  be  furnished  with  such  works  as 
will  improve  and  set  them  off ;  and  they  being  low  and  flat,  do 
necessarily  require  something  that  is  raised,  as  Groves  and 
Pallisades.  .  .  . 

Groves  make  the  chief  of  a  garden,  being  great  Ornaments  to 
all  the  rest  of  its  Parts  ;  so  that  there  cannot  be  too  many  of  them 
planted,  if  the  Places  designed  for  them  don't  take  up  those  of 
the  Kitchen  and  Fruit-Garden,  which  are  very  necessary  for  a 
House,  and  should  always  be  placed  near  the  Stabling. 

To  accompany  Parterres,  it  is  useful  to  make  choice  of  those 
designs  of  Wood-work  that  are  the  finest ;  as  Groves  opened  in 
Compartiments,  Quincunces,  Verdant  Halls,  with  Bowling-greens, 
Arbour-work,  and  Fountains  in  the  Middle. 

These  small  Groves,  being  placed  near  the  House,  are  so  much 
the  more  agreeable,  in  that  you  have  no  need  to  go  far  to  find 
shades ;  and  besides  this,  they  communicate  a  coolness  to  the 
Apartments,  which  is  very  agreeable  in  hot  weather. 

It  would  also  be  very  proper  to  plant  some  Groves  of  Ever- 
greens, that  may  afford  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a  Wood  always 
verdant  in  Winter,  when  the  other  trees  and  plants  are  deprived 
of  their  Ornaments ;  and  also  to  plant  some  squares  of  them  to 
be  a  diversity  from  the  other  Woods. 

It  is  also  usual  to  adorn  the  Head  of  a  Parterre  with  Basons, 
Water-works:  and  beyoid  it,  with  a  circular  line  of  Pallisades  or 
Wood-work  cut  into  a  Goosefoot,  leading  into  the  great  Walks, 


PHILIP  MILLER  147 

and  to  fill  the  space  between  the  Bason  and  the  Pallisade  with 
small  pieces  of  Embroidery  or  Grass-work,  set  off  with  Yews, 
Vases  and  flower-pots. 

In  Gardens,  which  have  Terrasses,  either  in  the  side  or  front  of 
the  house,  where  there  is  a  delightful  prospect,  so  that  you  cannot 
shut  up  the  Parterre  by  a  circular  Pallisade ;  in  order  to  continue 
the  new  view,  you  should  lay  several  compartiments  of  a  parterre 
together,  such  as  plain  green  pots  after  the  modern  fashion,  or 
cut-work ;  which  ought  to  be  divided  at  convenient  distances  by 
Cross-walks  :  But  the  parterre  or  plain  Green  plot  must  always 
be  next  to  the  House,  because  it  is  very  agreeable  to  the  eye.  .  .  . 

When  the  great  lines  and  chief  walks  are  laid  out,  and  the 
Parterres  and  Works  about  the  sides  and  head  of  them  are 
disposed  so  as  is  most  suitable  to  the  Ground,  then  the  rest  of 
the  Garden  is  to  be  furnished  with  many  different  designs,  as  tall 
groves.  Close  walks,  Quincunces,  Galleries  and  Halls  of  Verdure, 
Green  Arbours,  Labyrinths,  Bowling  greens,  and  Amphitheatres, 
adorned  with  Fountains,  Canals,  Figures,  etc.  Which  sort  of 
Works  distinguish  a  Garden  well,  and  do  also  greatly  contribute 
to  the  rendring  of  it  magnificent.  .  .  . 

Before  the  design  of  a  Garden  be  put  into  execution,  it  ought 
to  be  considered  what  it  will  be  in  twenty  or  thirty  years  time, 
when  the  Pallisades  are  grown  up,  and  the  trees  are  spread  :  For 
it  often  happens  that  a  design  which  looks  handsome  when  it  is 
first  planted,  and  in  good  proportion,  becomes  so  small  and 
ridiculous  in  process  of  time,  that  there  is  a  necessity  either  to 
alter  it,  or  destroy  it  entirely,  and  so  plant  it  anew. 

The  corners  and  angles  of  every  part  of  a  Garden  ought  to  be 
sloped,  or  cut  hollow :  This  will  make  the  cross-paths  more 
agreeable  to  the  eye,  and  more  convenient  for  walking,  than  to 
find  points  and  corners  advancing,  which  look  very  ill  upon  the 
ground,  and  are  very  inconvenient. 

There  is  a  peculiar  Excellency  in  Gardens  that  have  terrasses ; 
because  from  the  height  of  one  Terrass,  all  the  lower  parts  of  the 
Garden  may  be  discovered  ;  and  from  others  the  Compartiments 
are  seen,  which  form  so  many  several  Gardens  one  under  another. 


148 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


and  present  us  with  very  agreeable  Views,  and  different  Scenes  of 
Things,  if  the  Terrasses  are  not  too  frequent,  and  there  be  good 
lengths  of  Level  between  them. — The  Gardener's  Dictionary  (ist 
edition  1724). 

— ■A/\/Vj— 

VOLTAIRE,    A  FTER   having    thus    passed  in    review  all  the   books,   they 

(194-177)-       r\.     descended  into  the  garden.    Candide  praised  all  its  beauties. 

I  know  nothing  in  such  bad  taste,  said  the  master ;  here  are  only 

gee-gaws  :  but  I  shall  begin  to-morrow  to  have  one  planted  of  a 

nobler  design. — Candide  ou  P  Optimisme,  chap.  xxv. 


—'AF\f\N — 


EARL  OF 
CHESTER- 
FIELD 

(1694-1773). 


T  HAVE  been  a  Country  Gentleman  a  great  while,  for  me,  that  is ; 
-*-  for  I  have  now  been  a  fortnight  together  at  Blackheath,  and 
stay  three  or  four  days  longer.  The  furor  hortensis  has  seized 
me,  and  my  acre  of  ground  here  affords  me  more  pleasure  than 
Kingdoms  do  to  Kings;  for  my  object  is  not  to  extend  but  to 
enrich  it. 

My  Gardener  calls  me,  and  I  must  obey. — Letter  to  the  Bishop 
of  Waterford.     {Blackheath,  1751.) 


— AyWVA — 


BATTY 
LANGLEY 

(1696-1751), 
Architect  and 
Garden  De- 
sigtur. 


Of  the  Disposition  of  Gardens  in  General. 

VTOW  as  the  Beauty  of  Gardens  in  general  depends  upon  an 
^^  elegant  Disposition  of  all  their  Parts,  which  cannot  be 
determined  without  a  perfect  Knowledge  of  its  several  Ascend- 
ings,  Descendings,  Views,  etc.,  how  is  it  possible  that  any  Person 
can  make  a  good  Design  for  any  Garden,  whose  Situation  they 
never  saw  ? 

To  draw  a  beautiful  regular  Draught,  is  not  to  the  Purpose ;  for 
altho'  it  makes  a  handsome  Figure  on  the  paper,  yet  it  has 
quite  a  different  Effect  when  executed  on  the  ground  :  Nor  is 
there  any  Thing  more  ridiculous,  and  forbidding,  than  a  Garden 
which  is  regular ;  which,  instead  of  entertaining  the  Eye  with  fresh 


BATTY  LANGLEY  149 

Objects,  after  you  have  seen  a  quarter  Part,  you  only  see  the  very 
same  part  repeated  again,  without  any  variety. 

And  what  still  adds  to  this  wretched  Method,  is,  that  to  execute 
these  still  regular  Designs,  they  destroy  many  a  noble  Oak,  and  in 
its  place  plant,  perhaps,  a  clumsy-bred  Yew,  Holley,  etc.,  which, 
with  me,  is  a  Crime  of  so  high  a  Nature,  as  not  to  be  pardon'd. 

There  is  nothing  adds  so  much  to  the  pleasure  of  a  Garden,  as 
these  great  Beauties  of  Nature,  Hills  and  Valleys,  which,  by  our 
regular  Coxcombs,  have  ever  been  destroyed,  and  at  a  very  great 
Expence  also  in  Levelling. 

For,  to  their  great  Misfortune,  they  always  deviate  from  Nature, 
instead  of  imitating  it. 

There  are  many  other  absurdities  I  could  mention,  which 
those  wretched  Creatures  have,  and  are  daily  guilty  of:  But  as 
the  preceding  are  sufficient  to  arm  worthy  Gentlemen  against 
such  Mortals,  I  shall  at  present  forbear,  and  instead  thereof, 
proceed  to  General  Directions  for  laying  out  Gardens  in  a  more 
grand  and  delightful  Manner  than  has  been  done  before.  But 
first  observe. 

That  the  several  Parts  of  a  beautiful  Rural  Garden,  are  Walks, 
Slopes,  Borders,  Open  Plains,  Plain  Parterres,  Avenues,  Groves, 
Wildernesses,  Labyrinths,  Fruit-Gardens,  Flower-Gardens,  Vine- 
yards, Hop-Gardens,  Nurseries,  Coppiced  Quarters,  Green  Open- 
ings, like  Meadows  :  Small  Inclosures  of  Corn,  Cones  of  Ever- 
Greens,  of  Flowering-Shrubs,  of  Fruit  Trees,  of  Forest-Trees,  and 
mix'd  together :  Mounts,  Terraces,  Winding  Valleys,  Dales, 
Purling  Streams,  Basons,  Canals,  Fountains,  Cascades,  Grottos, 
Rocks,  Ruins,  Serpentine  Meanders,  Rude  Coppies,  Hay-Stacks, 
Wood-Piles,  Rabbit  and  Hare-Warrens,  Cold  Baths,  Aviaries, 
Cabinets,  Statues,  Obelisks,  Manazeries,  Pheasant  and  Partridge- 
Grounds,  Orangeries,  Melon-Grounds,  Kitchen-Gardens,  Physick 
or  Herb-Garden,  Orchard,  Bowling  Green,  Dials,  Precipices, 
Ampthitheatres,  etc. 

General  Directions,  etc. 
I.  That  the  Grand  Front   of  a  Building   lie  open  upon  an 


I50  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

elegant  Lawn  or  Plain  of  Grass,  adorn'd  with  beautiful  Statues, 
(of  which  hereafter  in  their  Place,)  terminated  on  its  sides  with 
open  Groves. 

II.  That  Grand  Avenues  be  planted  from  such  large  open 
plains,  with  a  Breadth  proportionable  to  the  Building,  as  well 
as  to  its  Length  of  view. 

III.  That  Views  in  Gardens  be  as  extensive  as  possible. 

IV.  That  such  Walks,  whose  Views  cannot  be  extended, 
terminate  in  Woods,  Forests,  mishapen  Rocks,  strange  Preci- 
pices, Mountains,  old  Ruins,  grand  Buildings,  etc. 

V.  That  no  regular  Ever-Greens  etc.,  be  planted  in  any  part 
of  an  open  Plain  or  Parterre. 

VI.  That  no  Borders  be  made,  or  Scroll-Work  cut,  in  any  such 
Lawn  or  plain  Parterre ;  for  the  Grandeur  of  those  beautiful  Carpets 
consists  in  their  native  Plainness. 

VII.  That  all  Gardens  be  grand,  beautiful  and  natural. 

VIII.  That  shady  Walks  be  planted  from  the  End- Views  of  a 
House,  and  terminate  in  those  open  Groves  that  enclose  the  Sides 
of  the  plain  Parterre,  that  thereby  you  may  enter  into  immediate 
shade,  as  soon  as  out  of  the  House,  without  being  heated  by  the 
scorching  Rays  of  the  Sun. 

"  Without  a  Shade  no  Beauty  Gardens  know  : 
And  all  the  Country's  but  a  naked  Show." 

IX.  That  all  the  Trees  of  your  shady  Walks  and  Groves  be 
planted  with  Sweet-Brier,  White  Jessamine,  and  Honey-Suckles, 
environ'd  at  Bottom  with  a  small  Circle  of  Dwarf-Stock,  Candy 
Turf  and  Pinks. 

X.  That  all  those  Parts  which  are  out  of  view  from  the  House, 
be  form'd  into  Wildernesses,  Labyrinths,  etc. 

XI.  That  Hills  and  Dales,  of  easy  Ascents,  be  made  by  Art, 
where  Nature  has  not  performed  that  work  before. 

XII.  That  Earths  cast  out  of  Foundations,  etc.,  be  carried  to 
such  Places  for  raising  of  Mounts,  from  which,  fine  Views  may  be 
seen. 

XIII.  That  the  Slopes  of  Mounts,  etc.,  be  laid  with  a  moderate 


BATTY  LANGLEY  151 

Reclination,  and  planted  with  all  sorts  of  Ever-Greens  in  a 
promiscuous  Manner,  so  as  to  grow  all  in  a  Thicket ;  which  has 
a  prodigious  fine  Effect. 

In  this  very  Manner  are  planted  two  beautiful  Mounts  in  the 
Gardens  of  the  Honourable  Sir  Fisher  Tench  at  Low  Laxton  in 
Essex. 

XIV.  That  the  Walks  leading  up  the  Slope  of  a  Mount,  have 
their  Breadth  contracted  at  the  Top,  full  one  half  part;  and  if 
that  contracted  Part  be  enclosed  on  the  sides  with  a  Hedge 
whose  Leaves  are  of  a  Light  Green,  'twill  seemingly  add  a  great 
Addition  to  the  Length  of  the  Walk,  when  view'd  from  the  other 
End. 

XV.  That  all  Walks  whose  Lengths  are  short,  and  lead  away 
from  any  point  of  View,  be  made  narrower  at  their  further  Ends 
than  at  the  hither  part ;  for  by  the  Inclination  of  their  Sides,  they 
appear  to  be  of  a  much  greater  Length  than  they  really  are ;  and 
the  further  end  of  every  long  Walk,  Avenue,  etc.,  appears  to  be 
much  narrower  than  that  End  where  you  stand. 

And  the  Reason  is,  that  notwithstanding  the  Sides  of  such 
Walks  are  parallel  to  each  other,  yet  as  the  Breadth  of  the 
further  End  is  seen  under  a  lesser  Angle,  than  the  Breadth  of 
that  Part  where  you  stand,  it  will  therefore  appear  as  if  con- 
tracted, although  the  Sides  are  actually  parallel  ;  for  equal 
Objects  always  appear  under  equal  Angles,  Q.E.D. 

XVI.  That  the  Walks  of  a  Wilderness  be  never  narrower  than 
10  feet,  or  wider  than  25  feet. 

XVII.  That  the  Walks  of  a  Wilderness  be  so  plac'd  as  to  respect 
the  best  Views  of  the  Country. 

XVIII.  That  the  Intersections  of  Walks  be  adorn'd  with 
Statues,  large  open  Plains,  Groves,  Cones  of  Fruit,  of  Ever- 
Greens,  of  Flowering  Shrubs,  of  Forest  Trees,  Basons,  Fountains, 
Sun-Dials,  and  Obelisks. 

"  When  in  the  Garden's  Entrance  you  provide, 
The  Waters,  there  united,  to  divide  : 
First,  in  the  Center  a  large  Fountain  make  ; 
Which  from  a  narrow  Pipe  its  Rise  may  take, 


152  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

And  to  the  Air  those  Waves,  by  which  'tis  fed. 
Remit  agen  ;  About  it  raise  a  Bed 
Of  Moss,  or  Grass  ;  but  if  you  think  this  base. 
With  well-wrought  Marble  circle  in  the  Place." 

XIX.  That  in  those  Serpentine  Meanders,  be  placed  at  proper 
Distances,  large  Openings,  which  you  surprisingly  come  to ;  and 
in  the  first  are  entertain'd  with  a  pretty  Fruit-Garden,  or  Paradice- 
Stocks,  with  a  curious  Fountain,  from  which  you  are  insensibly 
led  through  the  pleasant  Meanders  of  a  shady  delightful  planta- 
tion ;  first  into  an  even  Plain  environ'd  with  lofty  Pines,  in  whose 
Center  is  a  pleasant  Fountain  adorn'd  with  Neptune  and  his 
Tritons,  etc.,  secondly  into  a  Flower  Garden,  enrich'd  with  the 
most  fragrant  Flowers  and  beautiful  Statues ;  and  from  thence 
through  small  Inclosures  of  Corn,  open  Plains,  or  small  Meadows, 
Hop-Gardens,  Orangeries,  Melon-Grounds,  Vineyards,  Orchards, 
Nurseries,  Physick  Gardens,  Warrens,  Paddocks  of  Deer,  Sheep, 
Cows,  etc.,  with  the  rural  Enrichments  of  Hay  Stacks,  Wood- 
Piles,  etc. 

"  Which  endless  are,  with  no  fixed  Limits  bound, 
But  fill  in  various  forms  the  spacious  Round, 
And  endless  Walks  the  pleas'd  Spectator  views, 
As  ev'ry  Turn  the  verdant  scene  renews." 

These  agreeable  surprising  Entertainments  in  the  pleasant  Passage 
through  a  Wilderness,  must  without  doubt,  create  new  Pleasures 
at  every  Turn  :  And  more  especially  when  the  Whole  is  so  happily 
situated,  as  to  be  blessed  with  small  Rivulets  and  purling  Streams 
of  clear  Water,  which  generally  admit  of  fine  Canals,  Fountains, 
Cascades,  etc.,  which  are  the  very  Life  of  a  delightful  rural 
Garden. 

"  Of  pleasant  Floods,  and  Streams,  my  Muse  now  sings, 
Of  chrystal  Lakes,  Grotts,  and  transparent  Springs ; 
By  these  a  Garden  is  more  charming  made, 
They  chiefly  beautify  the  rural  Shade. " 

And  to  add  to  the  Pleasure  of  these  delightful  Meanders,  I 
advise  that  the  Hedge-Rows  of  the  \\'alks  be  intermix'd  with 
Cherries,  Plumbs,  Apples,  Pears,  Bruxel  Apricots,  Figs,  Goose- 


BATTY  LANGLEY  153 

berries,  Currants,  Rasberries,  etc.,  and  the  Borders  planted  with 
Strawberries,  Violets,  etc. 

The  most  beautiful  Forest-Trees  for  Hedges,  are  the  English 
Elm,  the  Dutch  Elm,  the  Lime-Tree,  and  Hornbeam :  And 
although  I  have  advis'd  the  Mixing  of  these  Hedges  of  Forest- 
Trees  with  the  aforesaid  Fruits,  yet  you  must  not  forget  a  Place 
for  those  pleasant  and  delightful  Flowering-Shrubs,  the  White 
Jessemine,  Honey  Suckle,  and  Sweet-Brier, 

New  Principles  of  Gardenings  or  The  Laying  out  and  Planting 
Parterres,  Groves,  Wildernesses,  Labyrinths,  Avenues,  Parks, 
etc.,  after  a  more  Grand  and  Rural  Manner  than  has  been 
dofie  before.     1728. 


CHAPTER   VII. 


HENRY 

HOME, 

LORD 

KAMES 

(1696-1782) 


THE  SENTIMENTAL,  LANDSCAPE,  AND  PARK  SCHOOLS  OF  GARDEN- 
ING, FOUNDED  UPON  PAINTING;  AND  THE  CHINESE  AND 
ENGLISH  '  NATURAL '  STYLES  IN  THE  SECOND  HALF  OF  THE 
EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY. 

'T~^HE  emotions  raised  by  the  fine  arts,  are  generally  too  nearly 
^  related  to  make  a  figure  by  resemblance ;  and  for  that 
reason  their  succession  ought  to  be  regulated  as  much  as  possible 
by  contrast.  ...  In  gardening  there  is  an  additional  reason  for 
the  rule :  the  emotions  raised  by  that  art  are  at  best  so  faint,  that 
every  artifice  should  be  used  to  give  them  their  utmost  strength  : 
a  field  may  be  laid  out  in  grand,  sweet,  gay,  neat,  wild,  melancholy 
scenes ;  and  when  these  are  viewed  in  succession,  grandeur  ought 
to  be  contrasted  with  neatness,  regularity  with  wildness,  and  gaiety 
with  melancholy,  so  as  that  each  emotion  may  succeed  its  opposite : 
nay  it  is  an  improvement  to  intermix  in  the  succession,  rude,  un- 
cultivated spots  as  well  as  unbounded  views,  which  in  themselves 
are  disagreeable,  but  in  succession  heighten  the  feeling  of  the  agree- 
able objects ;  and  we  have  nature  for  our  guide,  who  in  her  most 
beautiful  landscapes  often  intermixes  rugged  rocks,  dirty  marshes, 
and  barren  stony  heaths. — Elements  of  Criticism.  {Resemblance 
atid  Contrast^ 

Gardening,  besides  the  emotions  of  beauty  by  means  of 
regularity,  order,  proportion,  colour,  and  utility,  can  raise 
emotions  of  grandeur,  of  sweetness,  of  gaiety,  melancholy,  wild- 
ness, and  even  of  surprise  or  wonder.  ...  In  gardening  as  well 
as  in  architecture  simplicity  ought  to  be  the  governing  taste. 
Profuse  ornament  hath  no  better  effect  than  to  confound  the  eye, 
and  to  prevent  the  object  from  making  an  impression  as  one 
entire  whole.  .  .  . 

154 


LORD  KAMES  155 

The  simplest  idea  of  a  garden,  is  that  of  a  spot  embellished 
with  a  number  of  natural  objects,  trees,  walks,  polished  parterres, 
flowers,  streams,  etc.  One  more  complex  comprehends  statues 
and  buildings,  that  nature  and  art  may  be  mutually  ornamental. 
A  third,  approaching  nearer  perfection,  is  of  objects  assembled 
together,  in  order  to  produce,  not  only  an  emotion  of  beauty, 
essential  to  gardens  of  every  kind,  but  also  some  other  particular 
emotion,  grandeur,  for  example,  gaiety,  or  any  other  of  those 
above  mentioned. 

The  most  perfect  idea  of  a  garden  is  an  improvement  upon  the 
third,  requiring  the  several  parts  to  be  arranged  in  such  a  manner, 
as  to  inspire  all  the  different  emotions  that  can  be  raised  by 
gardening.  In  this  idea  of  a  garden,  the  arrangement  is  an  im- 
portant circumstance ;  for  it  has  been  shown  that  some  emotions 
figure  best  in  conjunction,  and  that  others  ought  always  to  appear 
in  succession  and  never  in  conjunction. 

.  .  .  Kent's  method  of  embellishing  a  field  is  admirable ; 
which  is,  to  paint  a  field  with  beautiful  objects,  natural  and 
artificial,  disposed  like  colours  upon  a  canvas.  It  requires 
indeed  more  genius  to  paint  in  the  gardening  way :  in  forming  a 
landscape  upon  a  canvas,  no  more  is  required  but  to  adjust  the 
figures  to  each  other :  an  artist  who  lays  out  ground  in  Kent's 
manner,  has  an  additional  task ;  he  ought  to  adjust  his  figures  to 
the  several  varieties  of  the  field.  .  .  . 

It  seems  to  me  far  from  an  exaggeration  that  good  professors 
are  not  more  essential  to  a  college,  than  a  spacious  garden,  which 
ought  to  be  formed  with  the  nicest  elegance,  tempered  with 
simpUcity,  rejecting  sumptuous  and  glaring  ornaments.  In  this 
respect  so  grand  and  important,  the  university  of  Oxford  may 
justly  be  deemed  a  perfect  model. — Ibid.  {Gardening  and 
Architecture.) 

Millin,  {Dictionnaire  des  Beaux  Arts)  thus  comments  on  the 
above : — 

"  On  pent  dire  que  ce  chapitre  fut  le  prelude  d'un  bavardage 
esthetique  et  vague  qui  a  ete  a  la  mode  pendant  quelque  temps 


156  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

sur  I'art  des  jardins,  mais  par  lequel  certainement  personne  n'aura 
appris  I'art  d'dtablir  un  beau  jardin." 

— 'A/Vj^- 

JOSEPH  Friend  of  Pope  and  Horace  Walpole  ;  in  1747  published  '  Polyvtetis,^  and 
^  1^  /a/er,  ^Remarks  on   VirgiV :    in  1757,  under  the  pseudonym   of  Sir  Harry 

(i'f\c\k  TTfiS"!    Beau7nont,  he  translated  the  Jesuit  Fire  Attiret^s   '  Account  of  the  Emperor  of 

China's  Gardens,  near  Fekin,''  which  la7-gely  contributed  to  the  revohition  in 

European  Garden-taste. 

A  S  for  the  Pleasure  Houses,  they  are  really  charming.  They 
^^  stand  in  vast  Compass  of  Ground.  They  have  raised  Hills 
from  Twenty  to  Sixty  foot  high  ;  which  form  a  great  Number  of 
Little  Valleys  between  them.  The  Bottoms  of  these  Valleys  are 
watered  with  clear  streams ;  which  run  on  till  they  join  together, 
and  form  Larger  pieces  of  Water  and  Lakes :  They  pass  these 
Streams,  Lakes,  and  Rivers,  in  beautiful  and  magnificent  Boats : 
I  have  seen  one,  in  particular,  Seventy  eight  feet  long,  and  Twenty 
four  feet  broad,  with  a  very  handsome  House  raised  upon  it.  In 
each  of  these  Valleys,  there  are  Houses  about  the  Banks  of  the 
Water,  very  well  disposed ;  with  their  different  Courts,  open  and 
close  Porticos,  Parterres,  Gardens  and  Cascades ;  which,  when 
viewed  all  together,  have  an  admirable  effect  upon  the  eye. 

They  go  from  one  of  the  Valleys  to  another,  not  by  formal 
strait  Walks  as  in  Europe ;  but  by  various  Turnings  and  Windings, 
adorned  on  the  sides  with  little  Pavilions  and  Charming  Grottos ; 
and  each  of  these  Valleys  is  diversified  from  all  the  rest,  both  by 
their  manner  of  laying  out  the  Ground,  and  in  the  Structure  and 
Disposition  of  its  Buildings. 

All  the  Risings  and  Hills  are  sprinkled  with  Trees ;  and  par- 
ticularly with  Flowering  Trees,  which  are  here  very  common.  The 
sides  of  the  Canals,  or  lesser  Streams,  are  not  faced  (as  they  are 
with  us)  with  smooth  Stone,  and  in  a  straight  Line ;  but  look 
rude  and  rustic,  with  different  Pieces  of  Rock,  some  of  which 
jut  out,  and  others  recede  inwards ;  and  are  pleased  with  so 
much  Art,  that  you  would  take  it  to  be  the  work  of  Nature. 


EARL  OF  CHATHAM  157 

In  some  Parts  the  Water  is  wide,  in  others  narrow;  here  it 
serpentises,  and  there  spreads  away,  as  if  it  was  really  pushed 
off  by  the  Hills  and  Rocks.  The  Banks  are  sprinkled  with 
Flowers,  which  rise  up  even  through  the  Hollows  in  the  Rock 
work,  as  if  they  had  been  produced  there  naturally.  They  have 
a  great  variety  of  them,  for  every  season  of  the  year. 

Beyond  these  streams  there  are  always  Walks,  or  rather  Paths, 
paved  with  small  Stones ;  which  lead  from  one  Valley  to  another. 
These  Paths  too  are  irregular ;  and  sometimes  wind  along  the 
Banks  of  the  Water,  and  at  others  run  out  wide  from  them. 

...  I  have  already  told  you  that  these  little  Streams,  or 
Rivers,  are  carried  on  to  supply  several  larger  Pieces  of  Water, 
and  Lakes.  One  of  these  Lakes  is  very  near  Five  Miles  round ; 
and  they  call  it  a  Meer  or  Sea.  This  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
Parts  in  the  whole  Pleasure  Grounds. 

On  the  Banks  are  several  Pieces  of  Buildings,  separated  from 
each  other  by  the  Rivulets  and  artificial  Hills  above  mentioned. 

But  what  is  the  most  charming  Thing  of  all  is,  an  Island,  or 
Rock,  in  the  Middle  of  this  Sea  ;  raised,  in  a  natural  and  rustic 
Manner  about  Six  Feet  above  the  Surface  of  the  Water.  On  this 
rock  there  is  a  little  Palace,  which,  however,  contains  an  hundred 
different  Apartments. — A  particular  account  of  the  Emperor  of 
Chifia^s  Gardens  Jiear  Pekin,  in  a  letter  frofn  F.  Attiret,  1757.^ 


— WWv^ 


I    ORD  CHATHA]NrS  taste  in  laying  out  his  grounds  was  ex-  EARL  OF 
•*-'     quisite.     In  the  pleasing  gardens  of  South  Lodge,  Enfield  CHATHAM 
Chase,  he  designed  a  Temple  of  Pan,  and  its  accompaniments, 
which  are  highly  commended  by  Mr  Whately,  in  his  "Observa- 
tions on  Modern  Gardening."     Mr  Hayley  likewise  mentions  Mr 
Pitt's  admirable  taste  in  selecting  points  of  picturesque  scenery. 

About  1754,  Hayes  Place,  Kent,  was  purchased  by  Pitt.     He 
rebuilt  the  house,  and  considerably  added  to  the  Grounds.     Here 
^  See  Illustration  in  Appendix. 


158  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

General  Wolfe  dined   the  evening  before  he  left  England  for 
Quebec,  Chatham  died,  and  William  Pitt  was  born. 

Lord  Mahon,  in  his  History  of  England,  says  that  at  Hayes 
in  former  years  Chatham  "had  made  improvements,  which  his 
memory  fondly  recalled :  plantations  for  example,  pursued  with 
so  much  ardour  and  eagerness,  that  they  were  not  even  interrupted 
at  nightfall,  but  were  continued  by  torchlight,  and  with  relays  of 
labourers."  The  belts  thus  planted  are  pointed  out  to  this  day 
at  Hayes  (Timbs's  "Anecdote  Biography,"  which  has  a  vignette 
of  Hayes  Place  on  the  title-page). 

— WVV/^ 

SAMUEL  \T0^^  was  excited  his  (Shenstone's)  delight  in  rural  pleasures, 
JOHNSON  i■^  and  his  ambition  of  rural  elegance:  he  began  from  this  time 
to  point  his  prospects,  to  diversify  his  surface,  to  entangle  his 
walks,  and  to  wind  his  waters ;  which  he  did  with  such  judgment 
and  such  fancy  as  made  his  little  domain  the  envy  of  the  great 
and  the  admiration  of  the  skilful — a  place  to  be  visited  by 
travellers  and  copied  by  designers.  Whether  to  plant  a  walk  in 
undulating  curves,  and  to  place  a  bench  at  every  turn  where 
there  is  an  object  to  catch  the  view — to  make  water  run  where  it 
will  be  heard,  and  to  stagnate  where  it  will  be  seen — to  leave 
intervals  where  the  eye  will  be  pleased,  and  to  thicken  the 
plantation  where  there  is  something  to  be  hidden — demand  any 
great  powers  of  the  mind,  I  will  not  enquire  :  perhaps  a  surly  and 
sullen  spectator  may  think  such  performances  rather  the  sport 
than  the  business  of  human  reason.  But  it  must  at  least  be 
confessed  that  to  embellish  the  form  of  nature  is  an  innocent 
amusement,  and  some  praise  must  be  allowed  by  the  most 
scrupulous  observer  to  him  who  does  best  what  multitudes  are 
contending  to  do  well. — Lives  of  the  Poets.     {Shenstofie.) 

The  truth  is,  he  (Dr  Johnson)  hated  to  hear  about  prospects 
and  views,  and  laying  out  ground,  and  taste  in  gardening :  "  That 
was  the  best  garden,"  he  said,  "  which  produced  most  roots  and 
fruits ;   and  that  water  was  most  to  be  prized  which  contained 


CHARLES  DE  BROSSES  159 

most  fish."  He  used  to  laugh  at  Shenstone  most  unmercifully  for 
not  caring  whether  there  was  anything  good  to  eat  in  the  streams 
he  was  so  fond  of;  "as  if,"  says  Johnson,  "one  could  fill  one's 
belly  with  hearing  soft  murmurs,  or  looking  at  rough  cascades  !  " 
He  loved  the  sight  of  fine  forest  trees,  however,  and  detested 
Brighthelmstone  Downs,  "because  it  was  a  country  so  truly 
desolate,"  he  said,  "that  if  one  had  a  mind  to  hang  one's  self 
for  desperation  at  being  obliged  to  live  there,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  find  a  tree  on  which  to  fasten  the  rope,"  Walking  in  a  wood, 
when  it  rained,  was,  I  think,  the  only  rural  image  he  pleased 
his  fancy  with;  "for,"  says  he,  "after  one  has  gathered  the 
apples  in  the  orchard,  one  wishes  them  well-baked,  and  removed 
to  a  London  eating-house  for  enjoyment."  ^  With  such  notions 
who  can  wonder  he  passed  his  time  uncomfortably  enough  with 
us,  whom  he  often  complained  of  for  living  so  much  in  the 
country ;  "  feeding  the  chickens,"  as  he  said  I  did,  "  till  I  starved 
my  own  understanding.  Get,  however,"  said  he,  "a  book  about 
gardening,  and  study  it  hard,  since  you  will  pass  your  life  with 
birds  and  flowers,  and  learn  to  raise  the  largest  turnips,  and  to 
breed  the  biggest  fowls."  It  was  vain  to  assure  him  that  the 
goodness  of  such  dishes  did  not  depend  upon  their  size ;  he 
laughed  at  the  people  who  covered  their  canals  with  foreign  fowls, 
"  when,"  says  he,  "  our  own  geese  and  ganders  are  twice  as  large  : 
if  we  fetched  better  animals  from  distant  nations,  there  might  be 
some  sense  in  the  preference ;  but  to  get  cows  from  Alderney,  or 
water-fowl  from  China,  only  to  see  Nature  degenerating  round  one, 
is  a  poor  ambition  indeed. — Mrs  Piozzi.     {^^ Johnsoniafia") 

Comie  de  Toiirnai  et  de  Montfalcon, first  President  of  the  Parliament  of  Dijoti  CHARLES 
{the  Burgimdian  Parliament.)     Translator  and  editor  of  Sallust.     The  first  DE 
edition  of  his  Letters  from  Italy,  written  at  the  age  of  thirty,  appeared  in  1839.  CROSSES 

'HEN   we   reached   them   we   forgot   all   our   troubles,    so 


W 


singular   is   the  appearance  of  that  called  the    Beautiful 
Island  (Isola  Bella).     Imagine  a  quantity  of  arcades,  formed  in 

^  This  reminds  one  of  Caraccioli's  remark  that  ' '  the  only  fruit  in  England 
that  ripened  in  the  open  air  were  apples,  for  they  were  roasted," — Foitnereau. 


i6o  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

the  centre  of  the  Lake,  supporting  a  conical-shaped  hill,  cut  on 
four  sides,  covered  with  thirty-six  terraces,  one  over  the  other, 
nine  on  each  side,  and  one  of  these  sides  covered  with  buildings. 
Each  of  these  terraces  is  hung  with  palisades  of  jessamine,  orange 
trees,  or  pomegranates,  with  pots  of  flowers  placed  on  the  ledge. 

At  the  top  of  the  hill  is  an  equestrian  figure,  which  forms  a 
fountain,  although  we  saw  no  water  come  from  it,  and  there  are 
also  four  statues  on  the  angles.  We  have  in  France  artificial  and 
natural  beauties  better  than  this,  but  I  have  seen  none  more 
singular  and  curious  than  this  isle,  which  resembles  a  palace  in  a 
fairy  tale. 

I  would  advise  you,  my  dear  Quinton,  if  you  intend  having  a 
pleasant  time  in  Rome,  to  take  this  house;  you  will  have  also 
the  advantage  of  living  within  a  stone's  throw  of  Ludovisi  Gardens. 
We  go  there  every  evening ;  they  were  Sallust's  gardens  in  the 
olden  times.  They  are  worth  describing,  and  I  shall  make 
honourable  mention  of  them  in  the  life  of  my  old  friend  which  I 
am  now  engaged  in  writing.  One  has  not  to  go  outside  of  Rome 
to  enter  these  Gardens  ;  they  are  the  largest  in  the  town,  the  best 
kept,  and,  being  near  to  the  most  populous  part  of  the  City  are 
much  frequented.  They  contain  numerous  alleys,  orange  groves, 
and  cypress  copses,  fountains,  statues,  vases  and  obelisk  found  m 
situ  quo  (which  obelisk  was  formerly  in  Sallust's  garden),  and 
two  little  villas,  not  much  in  themselves,  but  full  of  treasures. 
These  gardens  although  they  might  be  better  kept,  have  a 
delightful  rural  look  about  them.  You  must  not  expect  to  find 
gardens  here  like  those  of  the  Tuileries,  nor  arranged  like  those 
of  the  Palais  Royal — little  as  the  latter  are  to  compare  to  the 
former.  We  have  greatly  surpassed  the  Italians  in  our  gardens, 
although  we  owe  ours  to  them.  To  compare  gardens  to  buildings, 
those  of  the  Tuileries  are  as  superior  to  others  as  is  St  Peter's  to 
other  churches — that  is  to  say,  that  none  can  be  compared  with 
them  on  the  same  scale.  After  all,  the  Italians  follow  their  own 
taste,  and  adapt  their  gardens  to  their  climate.  They  wish  to 
have  green  trees  all  the  year  round,  grass  in  their  walks  instead  of 


ROUSSEAU  i6i 

sand,  long  and  palisaded  walks,  which  always  afford  shade  in 
their  sunny  land,  and  they  require  many  fountains,  great  and 
small,  a  crowd  of  statues,  obelisks  and  bas-reliefs,  of  which  they 
possess  a  far  greater  store  than  we  can  show.  They  do  not  care 
a  morsel  for  the  keeping  up  of  their  gardens,  nor  for  their 
cleanliness,  and  they  cannot  spend  much  on  them.  None  of 
their  gardens  outside  the  town,  not  excepting  the  finest  of  all, 
that  of  Pamphili,  which  is  the  most  rural  and  park-like,  can 
compare  to  St  Cloud  in  charm  of  rusticity  or  to  Marly  in 
picturesqueness.  The  best  statues  in  the  Ludovisi  gardens  are 
those  of  Silenus  and  Priapus. 

....  The  Belvedere  and  the  park  of  the  Ludovisi  villas  are 
mountains  cut  into  terraces,  covered  with  verdure,  containing 
grottoes  and  superb  cascades.  The  great  fountain  in  the 
Belvedere  is  nearly  equal  to  that  of  St  Cloud ;  it  is  one  of  the 
finest  things  of  its  kind  that  can  be  seen.  It  descends,  with  a 
terrific  sound  of  air  and  water,  through  pipes  arranged  expressly 
to  make  a  perpetual  cannonade.  Besides  this  great  fountain, 
there  are  numerous  smaller  ones  ;  many  in  very  good  taste.  The 
hill  of  the  Belvedere  is  scooped  out  into  three  terraces,  orna- 
mented with  grottoes  and  with  fagades,  in  rustic  architecture,  all 
ornamented  with  cascades  in  full  play.  The  great  cascade  is 
crowned  with  columns  with  twisted  flutings,  through  which  the 
water  circulates  in  spiral  lines.  The  Ludovisi  cascade  has  above 
it  a  platform  containing  a  huge  fountain  basin.  The  long  fagades 
of  grottoes,  with  porticoes,  fountains,  and  statues  are  beautiful, 
both  here  and  in  the  Aldobrandini  gardens.  In  the  latter,  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  is  a  very  fine  building  designed  by  Porta.  The 
Avenues  below  are  fringed  with  oranges  and  palisades  of  laurel, 
with  balustrades,  on  which  are  placed  vases  full  of  myrtle  and 
pomegranates. — Letters  of  Charles  de  Brasses,  translated  by  Lord 
Ronald  Gower. 

T  BEGAN  to  traverse  in  ecstacy  the  orchard  thus  transformed ;  ROUSSEAU 
*     and  if  I  did  not  find  exotics,  and  plants  of  Indian  growth,  (^7 12- 1778). 
I  found  those  of  the  country  arranged  and  blended  so  as  to 

L 


i62  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

produce  a  more  smiling  and  pleasing  effect.  The  turf  verdant, 
yet  close  and  crisp,  was  strewn  with  wild  thyme,  balsam, 
marjoram,  and  other  sweet-scented  herbs :  A  thousand  lustrous 
wild-flowers  were  in  sight,  among  which  the  eye  distinguished 
with  surprise  some  from  the  garden,  which  seemed  to  grow  up 
naturally  with  the  others.  I  encountered  from  time  to  time 
dark  thickets,  as  impenetrable  to  the  sun's  rays  as  the  depths 
of  the  forest :  these  thickets  were  formed  of  trees  of  the  most 
flexible  wood,  whose  branches  had  been  made  to  bend  back, 
hang  on  the  ground,  and  take  root,  by  an  art  akin  to  the  natural 
habit  of  the  mango  in  America. 

In  the  more  open  places,  I  saw  here  and  there,  unordered 
and  unsymmetrical,  bushes  of  roses,  raspberries,  and  gooseberries ; 
patches  of  lilac,  hazel,  alders,  seringas,  broom,  and  clover,  which 
clothed  the  earth  whilst  giving  it  an  appearance  of  being  un- 
cultured. I  followed  the  serpentine  and  irregular  alleys  edged 
with  these  flowering  thickets,  and  roofed  with  a  thousand  garlands 
of  Judaea- vines,  virgin-vines,  hops,  rose-weed,  snake-weed,  clematis, 
and  other  plants  of  this  kind,  with  which  honeysuckle  and  jasmine 
deigned  to  mingle.  These  garlands  appeared  to  be  thrown 
carelessly  from  one  tree  to  another,  as  I  had  sometimes  observed 
in  forests,  and  formed  above  us,  as  it  were,  draperies,  which 
sheltered  us  from  the  sun,  whilst  under  foot  we  had  soft,  pleasant, 
and  dry  walking  upon  fine  moss,  without  sand,  grass,  or  rough 
shoots.  Only  then  I  discovered,  not  without  surprise,  that  these 
green  and  bushy  shades,  which  in  the  distance  had  looked  so 
imposing,  were  only  formed  of  these  creeping  parasite  plants, 
which,  trained  along  the  trees,  wrapped  their  heads  in  the 
thickest  foliage,  and  their  feet  in  shadow  and  coolness.  I  observed 
too,  that  by  means  of  a  very  simple  industry,  several  of  these 
plants  had  been  induced  to  take  root  on  the  trunks  of  trees 
and  so  to  spread  more,  being  nearer  the  top,  while  requiring  less 
room.  You  will  easily  understand  that  the  fruitage  is  none  the 
better  for  all  these  additions ;  but  only  in  this  spot  has  the  useful 
been  sacrificed  to  the  agreeable,  and  in  the  rest  of  the  grounds 
such  care  has  been  bestowed  upon  the   plants   and   trees,  that 


ROUSSEAU  163 

with  this  orchard  the  less,  the  fruit  crop  is  larger  than 
before. 

If  you  think  how  charming  it  is,  sometimes  deep  in  the  wood, 
to  see  wild  fruit  and  even  to  refresh  yourself  with  it,  you  will 
understand  the  pleasure  it  gives  to  find  in  this  artificial  desert 
excellent  and  ripe  fruit,  although  thinly  sown  and  of  bad  com- 
plexion, but  which,  for  all  that,  affords  the  pleasure  of  search  and 
choice. 

All  these  little  paths  were  confined  and  crossed  by  a  limpid 

and  clear  stream,  sometimes  circling  amid  the  grass  and  flowers 

in  almost  imperceptible  threads,  now  in  larger  streams  flowing 

over  a  pure  mosaic  of  gravel,  which  made  the  water  more  trans- 

"  parent. 

I  can  imagine,  said  I  to  them,  a  rich  man  from  Paris  or 
London,  master  of  this  house,  bringing  with  him  an  expensive 
architect  to  spoil  Nature.  With  what  disdain  would  he  enter 
this  simple  and  mean  place  !  With  what  contempt  would  he 
have  all  these  weeds  up-rooted  !  What  fine  avenues  he  would 
open  out !  what  beautiful  alleys  he  would  have  pierced  !  what 
fine  goose-feet,  what  fine  trees  like  parasols  and  fans !  what 
finely  fretted  trellises  !  what  beautifully  drawn  yew-hedges,  finely 
squared  and  rounded !  what  fine  bowling-greens  of  fine  English 
turf,  rounded,  squared,  sloped,  ovaled :  what  fine  yews  carved 
into  dragons,  pagodas,  marmosets,  every  kind  of  monster ! 
With  what  fine  bronze  vases,  what  fine  stone-fruits  he  would 
adorn  his  garden  !  ^ 

When  all  that  is  carried  out,  said  M.  de  Wolmar,  he  will  have 
made  a  very  fine  place,  which  one  will  scarcely  enter,  and  will 
always  be  anxious  to  leave  to  seek  the  country :  a  dismal  spot, 
where  no  one  will  walk,  but  through  which  one  will  pass  to  go 
for  a  walk ;  whereas  in  my  country  strolls  I  am  often  eager  to 
return,  that  I  may  come  and  walk  here. 

^  I  am  convinced  the  time  is  at  hand,  when  we  shall  no  longer  have  in 
gardens  anything  that  is  found  in  the  country  ;  we  shall  tolerate  neither 
plants  nor  shrubs ;  we  shall  only  like  porcelain  flowers,  baboons,  arbour- 
work,  sand  of  all  colours,  and  fine  vases  full  of  nothing. 


1 64  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

I  only  see  in  these  vast  and  richly  ornamented  estates  the' 
vanity  of  the  proprietor  and  of  the  artist,  who,  always  eager  to 
display,  the  one  his  wealth  and  the  other  his  talent,  prepare,  at 
a  great  expense,  ennui  for  any  one  desirous  of  enjoying  their 
work.  A  false  taste  for  grandeur,  which  is  not  made  for  man, 
poisons  his  pleasures. 

The  "grand  air"  is  always  melancholy:  it  makes  us  think  of 
the  miseries  of  the  man  who  affects  it.  Amid  his  parterres  and 
grand  alleys,  his  littleness  does  not  increase :  a  tree  twenty  feet 
high  shelters  him  as  well  as  one  of  sixty  feet :  he  never  occupies 
more  than  his  three  feet  of  space,  and  is  lost  like  a  worm  in  his 
immense  possessions. 

There  is  another  taste  directly  opposed  to  that,  and  still  more 
ridiculous,  in  so  far  as  it  does  not  even  permit  the  enjoyment  of 
the  walk,  for  which  gardens  are  made. 

I  understand,  I  replied  :  it  is  that  of  those  pretty  virtuosi,  those 
small  florists,  who  swoon  at  the  sight  of  a  ranunculus,  and  prostrate 
themselves  before  a  tulip.  Whereupon  I  related  to  them  what 
had  formerly  happened  to  me  in  London,  in  that  flower-garden 
into  which  we  were  ushered  with  so  much  formality,  and  where 
we  saw  displayed  so  pompously  all  the  treasures  of  Holland  on 
four  beds  of  dung.  I  did  not  forget  the  ceremony  of  the  parasol, 
and  of  the  little  wand,  with  which  they  honoured  me,  all  unworthy 
as  I  was,  as  well  as  the  other  spectators. 

I  humbly  confessed  to  them,  how,  being  desirous  to  exert 
myself  when  my  turn  came,  and  to  venture  to  go  into  ecstacies 
at  the  sight  of  a  tulip,  of  which  the  colour  appeared  to  me 
striking,  and  the  form  elegant,  I  was  mocked,  hooted,  hissed  by 
all  the  connoisseurs ;  and  how  the  garden-professor,  passing  from 
his  contempt  for  the  flower  to  that  for  the  panegyrist,  did  not 
condescend  to  look  at  me  during  the  whole  interview.  I  think, 
I  added,  that  he  greatly  regretted  having  profaned  his  wand  and 
parasol.  .  .  . 

What  then  will  the  man  of  taste  do,  who  lives  for  the  sake 
of  living,  who  can  enjoy  by  himself,  who  seeks  real  and  simple 
pleasures,  and  who  wishes  to  make  for  himself  a  walk  within 


STERNE  165 

reach  of  his  house.  He  will  make  it  so  commodious  and  so 
agreeable,  that  he  can  please  himself  there  at  all  hours  of  the 
day,  and  moreover  so  simple  and  so  natural,  that  he  seems  to 
have  done  nothing.  He  will  combine  water,  verdure,  shade  and 
coolness ;  for  Nature  too  combines  all  these  things.  He  will 
give  symmetry  to  nothing ;  it  is  the  enemy  to  nature  and  variety ; 
and  all  the  alleys  of  an  ordinary  garden  have  so  strong  a 
resemblance,  that  you  think  you  are  always  in  the  same  one : 
he  will  level  the  soil  to  walk  on  it  comfortably  :  but  the  two 
sides  of  his  alleys  will  not  be  always  exactly  parallel ;  its  direc- 
tion will  not  be  always  in  a  straight  line,  it  will  have  a  certain 
-vagueness,  like  the  gait  of  a  leisurely  man  who  sways  as  he 
walks.  He  will  not  be  anxious  to  open  up  fine  prospects  in 
the  distance :  the  taste  for  points  of  view  and  distances  comes 
from  the  tendency  which  most  men  have  to  be  pleased  only 
where  they  do  not  happen  to  be  :  they  are  always  longing  for 
what  is  far  from  them,  and  the  artist,  who  does  not  know  how 
to  make  them  sufficiently  satisfied  with  what  surrounds  them, 
allows  himself  this  resource  to  amuse  them :  but  the  man  of 
whom  I  speak,  has  not  this  anxiety :  and  when  he  is  well  where 
he  is,  he  does  not  desire  to  be  elsewhere.— ^////V,  or  the  New 
Heloise. 

— A/\/\/Vv— 

TV  yf  ETHINKS  I  see  my  contemplative  girl  now  in  the  gardens,  STERNE 
•^"^  watching  the  gradual  approaches  of  Spring.  Dost  not  thou  ^'7i3-i76^)- 
mark  with  delight  the  first  vernal  buds?  the  snow-drop,  and 
primrose,  these  early  and  welcome  visitors,  spring  beneath  thy 
feet.  Flora  and  Pomena  already  consider  thee  as  their  hand- 
maid; and  in  a  little  time  will  load  thee  with  their  sweetest 
blessing.  The  feathered  race  are  all  thy  own,  and  with  them, 
untaught  harmony  will  soon  begin  to  cheer  thy  morning  and 
evening  walks.  Sweet  as  this  may  be,  return — return,  the  birds 
of  Yorkshire  will  tune  their  pipes,  and  sing  as  melodiously  as 
those  of  Staffordshire. 

I  think  I  see  you  looking  twenty  times  a  day  at  the  house, 


i66  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

almost  counting  every  brick  and  pane  of  glass,  and  telling 
them  at  the  same  time,  with  a  sigh,  you  are  going  to  leave 
them.  Oh !  happy  modification  of  matter !  they  will  remain 
insensible  of  thy  loss.  But  how  wilt  thou  be  able  to  part 
with  thy  garden  ?  The  recollection  of  so  many  pleasing  walks 
must  have  endeared  it  to  you.  The  trees,  the  shrubs,  the 
flowers,  which  thou  rearedst  with  thy  own  hands,  will  they  not 
droop  and  fade  away  sooner  upon  thy  departure?  Who  will 
be  thy  successor  to  nurse  them  in  thy  absence  ?  Thou  wilt 
leave  thy  name  upon  the  myrtle-tree.  If  trees  and  shrubs  and 
flowers  could  compose  an  elegy,  I  should  expect  a  very  plaintive 
one  upon  this  suhject—Zefiers  to  Miss  L.  {afterwards  Sterne^s 
wife  and  Editress  of  his  Letters  dedicated  to  David  Garrick, 
June  1775,  by  Lydia  Sterne  de  Me  dalle). 

DIDEROT'S  npHE  French,  plunged  so  long  in  barbarism,  had  no  ideas  of 

p^srnTA^^"  ^^  decoration  of  gardens  or  of  gardening,  before  the  age 

(1751-1765).       of  Louis  XIV.       It  is  in  the  reign  of  that  prince  that  this  art 

was   on   the   one  hand  created,  perfected   by  la  Quintinie  for 

utility,  and  by  le  Notre  for  pleasure.  .  .  . 

Let  us,  without  partiality,  cast  our  eye  over  this  century. 
How  do  we  at  present  decorate  the  most  beautiful  situations  of 
our  choice,  with  which,  le  Notre  would  have  been  able  to  achieve 
wonders  ?  We  bring  to  bear  upon  them  a  ridiculous  and  paltry 
taste.  The  long  straight  alleys  appear  to  us  insipid;  the 
palissades  cold  and  formless ;  we  delight  in  devising  twisted 
alleys,  scroll-work  parterres  and  shrubs  pruned  into  tufts ;  the 
largest  portions  are  divided-up  into  little  lots  always  decorated 
without  grace,  without  nobiHty,  without  simplicity.  Baskets  of 
flowers,  faded  after  a  few  days,  have  taken  the  place  of  lasting 
flower-beds ;  we  see  everywhere  vases  of  terra-cotta,  Chinese 
grotesques,  caricatures,  and  other  such  works  in  sculpture  of 
mean  workmanship,  which  plainly  enough  prove  to  us  that 
mediocrity  has  extended  its  empire  over  all  our  productions  of 
this  kind. 


WILLIAM  SHENSTONE  167 

It  is  not  so  with  a  neighbouring  nation,  amongst  whom  gardens 
in  good  taste  are  as  common  as  magnificent  palaces  are  rare.  In 
England,  these  kinds  of  walks,  practicable  in  all  weathers,  seem 
made  to  be  the  sanctuary  of  a  sweet  and  placid  pleasure;  the 
body  is  there  relaxed,  the  mind  diverted,  the  eyes  are  enchanted 
by  the  verdure  of  the  turf,  and  bowling-greens ;  the  variety  of 
flowers  offers  pleasant  flattery  to  the  smell  and  sight.  There  is 
no  pretence  of  lavishing  on  these  places,  I  do  not  say  small,  but 
even  the  most  beautiful  works  of  art. 

Nature  alone,  modestly  arrayed,  and  never  made  up,  there 
spreads  out  her  ornaments  and  benefits.  How  the  fountains 
beget  the  shrubs  and  beautify  them  !  How  the  shadows  of  the 
woods  put  the  streams  to  sleep  in  beds  of  herbage  !  Let  us  call 
the  birds  in  these  places  of  delight ;  their  concerts  will  draw  man 
hither,  and  will  form  a  hundred  times  better  eulogy  of  a  taste  for 
sentiment,  than  marble  and  bronze  whose  display  but  produces  a 
stupid  wonderment. — Encyclopedia.     (Jardin.) 

Poet  and  azithor.     Seems  to  have  been  the  inventor  of  the  iertn  "  landscape-  WILLIAM 
gardening,^'  as  well  as  of  the  actual  "  Sentimental  Farm"  the  "  Leasowes."        SHENSTONE 


/'GARDENING  may  be  divided  into  three  species — kitchen- 
^-^  gardening — parterre  gardening — and  landscape  or  pictur- 
esque-gardening :  which  latter  is  the  subject  intended  in  the 
following  pages.  It  consists  in  pleasing  the  imagination  by 
scenes  of  grandeur,  beauty  or  variety.  Convenience  merely  has 
no  share  here  any  further  than  it  pleases  the  imagination.  .  .  . 

Objects  should  indeed  be  less  calculated  to  strike  the  imme- 
diate eyes  than  the  judgment  or  well-informed  imagination,  as 
in  painting.  .  .  . 

I  believe,  however,  the  sublime  has  generally  a  deeper  eff'ect 
than  the  merely  beautiful. 

I  use  the  words  landscape  and  prospect,  the  former  so 
expressive  of  home  scenes,  the  latter  of  distant  images.  Pros- 
pects should  take  in  the  blue  distant  hills ;  but  never  so  remotely, 


(1714-1763). 


1 68  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

that  they  be  not  distinguishable  from  clouds.     Yet  this  mere  effect 
is  what  the  vulgar  value. 

Landscape  should  contain  variety  enough  to  form  a  picture 
upon  canvass ;  and  this  is  no  bad  test,  as  I  think  the  landscape- 
painter  is  the  gardener's  best  designer.  The  eye  requires  a  sort 
of  balance  here  ;  but  not  so  as  to  encroach  upon  probable  nature. 
A  wood  or  hill  may  balance  a  house  or  obelisk ;  for  exactness 
would  be  displeasing.  .  .  .  The  eye  should  look  rather  down 
upon  water :  customary  nature  makes  this  requisite.  ...  It  is 
not  easy  to  account  for  the  fondness  of  former  times  for  straight- 
lined  avenues  to  their  houses ;  straight-lined  walks  through  their 
woods ;  and  in  short  every  kind  of  a  straight-line ;  where  the  foot 
is  to  travel  over  what  the  eye  has  done  before.  .  .  . 

By  the  way  I  wonder  that  lead  statues  are  not  more  in  vogue 
in  our  gardens.  Though  they  may  not  express  the  finer  lines 
of  a  human  body,  yet  they  seem  perfectly  well  calculated,  on 
account  of  their  duration,  to  embellish  landscapes,  were  they 
some  degrees  inferior  to  what  we  generally  behold.^  . 

It  is  always  to  be  remembered  in  gardening,  that  sublimity  or 
magnificence,  and  beauty  or  variety,  are  very  different  things. 
Every  scene  we  see  in  nature  is  either  tame  and  insipid,  or 
compounded  of  those.  .  .  . 

Gardeners  may  be  divided  into  three  sorts,  the  landscape- 
gardener,  the  parterre  -  gardener,  and  the  kitchen  -  gardener, 
agreeably  to  our  first  division  of  gardens. 

I  have  used  the  word  landscape-gardeners,  because,  in 
pursuance  of  our  present  taste  in  gardening,  every  good  painter 
of  landscape  appears  to  me  the  most  proper  designer.  The 
misfortune  of  it  is  that  these  painters  are  apt  to  regard  the 
execution  of  their  work,  much  more  than  the  choice  of 
subject.  .  .  . 

Hedges,  appearing  as  such,  are  universally  bad.  They  dis- 
cover art  in  nature's  province. 

^  The  taste  for  lead  statues  and  vases  in  gardens  is  now  being  stimulated  by 
Mr  W.  R.  Lethaby,  Mr  Inigo  Thomas,  and  other  Architects.  See  the  former's 
admirable  monograph  on  "  Leadwork."  (Macmillan,  1893.) 


LANCELOT  BROWN  169 

Water  should  ever  appear,  as  an  irregular  lake,  or  winding 
stream.  .  .  . 

In  gardening,  it  is  no  small  point  to  enforce  either  grandeur 
or  beauty  by  surprize;  for  instance,  by  abrupt  transition  from 
their  contraries — but  to  lay  a  stress  upon  surprize  only ;  for 
example,  on  the  surprize  occasioned  by  an  aha  !  (Ha  !  Ha  !)  with- 
out including  any  nobler  purpose  ;  is  a  symptom  of  bad  taste,  and 
a  violent  fondness  for  mere  concetto. —  Unconnected  TTioughts  on 
Gardening. 


As  a  boy,  entered  service  of  Lord  Cobham  at  Stowe  and  became  his  head  LANCELOT 

gardener.     On  his  recommendation  was  appointed  Royal  Garde7ier  at  Hampton  BROWN 

^"P  APART!  TTV  "\ 
Court  in   1750   by    George   II.       Brown,   asked  by  the  King   to    ''i/nprove")     ^-^^^oii-i  1  i    ; 

the  gardens  at  Hampton  Court,  declined,   "out  of  respect  to  himself  and  his  '  '    ■' 

professiojt."      He  probably  planted  the  famous  vine  in  1769,  from  a  slip  of 

one  at  Valentines,  Ilford,  Essex  ;  he  resided  many  years  at  Hampton  Court, 

Chatham,  who  corresponded  with  Brown,  writes  of  him  in  a  letter  to  Lady 

Stanhope :   "  The  writer,  Lancelot  Brown,  Esquire,  en  titre  cT office:  please  to 

consider  he  shares  the  private  hours  of  the  King,  dines  familiarly  with  his 

neighbour  of  Sion  {Duke  of  Northumberland)  and  sits  down  at  the  tables  of  all 

the  Hozise  of  Lords," 

I  ANCELOT  BROWN  had  the  supreme  control  over  the  art 
*-'  of  modem  gardening  for  nearly  half  a  century.  He  had 
been  bred  as  a  kitchen  gardener  at  Stowe.  Having  been  recom- 
mended by  Lord  Cobham  to  the  Duke  of  Grafton  at  Wakefield 
Lodge,  Northamptonshire,  he  directed  the  formation  of  a  large 
lake,  and  afterwards  at  Blenheim,  where  he  covered  a  narrow 
valley  with  an  artificial  river,  and  gave  a  character  to  a  lofty 
bridge.  He  exultingly  said,  that  "the  Thames  would  never 
forgive  him  I "  .  .  .  Croome  in  Worcestershire  and  Fisherwick 
in  Staffordshire  are  his  only  works  entirely  new,  as  taken  from 
fields.  But  it  would  be  barely  possible  to  enumerate  all  the 
villas  and  their  environs  which  he  remodelled,  according  to  the 
system  upon  which  he  acted,  with  persevering  uniformity,  for  he 
was  a  consummate  mannerist.     His  reputation  and  consequent 


170  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

wealth  gave  him  almost  exclusive  pretensions.  Clumps  and  belts 
were  multiplied  to  a  disgusting  monotony,  and  abounded  in  every 
part  of  the  kingdom.  The  ancient  avenues  disappeared,  as  if 
before  the  wand  of  a  magician ;  every  vestige  of  the  formal  or  the 
reformed  taste  was  forcibly  removed.  Whatever  approached  to 
a  right  line  was  held  in  abhorrence.  Brown's  influence  upon 
public  opinion  produced,  in  time,  two  memorable  contro- 
versies, which  may  be  styled  the  "Chinese,"  and  the 
*'  Picturesque." 

Yet  during  his  high  career,  he  found  some  of  the  most 
approved  theorists  to  gratify  him  with  no  measured  praise. 
Walpole  is  courtly  and  discreet,  as  far  as  not  becoming  his 
partizan.  Whately  treats  him  with  bare  allusion ;  but  Mason 
gives  an  unequivocal  encomium,  whilst  he  afterwards  combats 
his  principles.^ 

By  his  partizans.  Brown  has  been  complimented  as  'the  living 
leader  of  the  powers  of  nature,  and  the  realiser  of  Kent's  Elysian 
scenes ' ;  an  immoderate  praise  which  has  excited  the  most  severe 
contempt.  But,  in  candour,  he  should  not  have  been  charged 
with  all  the  faults  of  his  numerous  followers.  He  was  not  likely 
to  form  himself  upon  the  pictures  of  Salvator,  Claude,  or  Poussin, 
who  was  himself  ignorant  of  mechanical  drawing.  His  principles 
were  known,  and  his  plans  manufactured  by  others.  His  manage- 
ment of  water  was  more  worthy  of  admiration  than  of  grounds  or 
plantations,  in  which  his  mind  appears  to  have  been  occupied  by 
a  single  object,  not  consulting,  in  some  instances,  the  genius  of 
the  place.  The  uniformity  of  'clumps  and  belts'  (as  he  called 
them)  by  such  constant  repetition  has  lost  its  claim  to  our  surprise 
or  approbation  ;  and  that  claim  originated  as  much  in  the  novelty 
as  the  beauty  of  the  objects.  Unlike  the  instance  of  the  prophet 
of  old,  his  mantle  has  been  appropriated  to  themselves  by  numer- 
ous   successors ;    unless    indeed,    the    precedence    claimed    by 

'  '  Bards  yet  unborn 

Shall  pay  to  Brown,  that  tribute  fitliest  paid 
In  strains  the  beauty  of  his  scenes  inspire.' 

— English  Garden,  Book  I. 


THOMAS  GRAY  171 

Repton  be  allowed  by  the  public.^ — Dallaway's  '■Anecdotes  of 
Gardening.^  ^ 

T  T  E  (Count  Algarotti)  is  highly  civil  to  our  nation,  but  there  is  THOMAS 

^  *      one  little  point,  in  which  he  does  not  do  us  justice.     I  am  (^7^6.^771) 

the  more  solicitous  about  it,  because  it  relates  to  the  only  taste 

which  we  can  call  our  own,  the  only  proof  of  our  original  talent 

in  matter  of  pleasure ;  I  mean,  our  skill  in  gardening,  and  laying 

out  grounds.     That  the  Chinese  have  this  beautiful  art  in  high 

perfection,  seems  very  probable  from  the  Jesuifs  Letters,  and 

■more  from  Chamber's  little  discourse  published  some  few  years 

ago.     But  it  is  very  certain,  we  copied  nothing  from  them,  nor 

had  anything  but  nature  for  our  model.     It  is  not  forty  years 

since  the  art  was  born  among  us ;  and  it  is  sure,  that  there  was 

nothing  in  Europe  like  it,  and  as  sure,  we  then  had  no  informa- 

tion  on  this  head  from  China  at  all. — Letter  to    Williajn  Taylor 

Howe,  dated  Catfibridge,  Septe??iber  10,   1763. 

And  so  you  have  a  garden  of  your  own,  and  you  plant  and 
transplant,  and  are  dirty  and  amused;  are  not  you  ashamed  of 
yourself?  Why,  I  have  no  such  thing,  you  monster;  nor  ever 
shall  be  either  dirty  or  amused  as  long  as  I  live !     My  gardens 

1  Repton,  in  his  enquiry  into  the  changes  of  taste  in  Landscape  Gardening, 
offers  the  following  defence  of  Brown  : — '  After  his  death  he  was  immediately 
succeeded  by  a  numerous  herd  of  his  foremen  and  working  gardeners,  who 
from  having  executed  his  designs,  became  consulted  as  well  as  employed  in 
the  several  works  which  he  had  entrusted  them  to  superintend.  And  this 
introduced  all  the  bad  taste  attributed  to  Brown,  by  enlarging  his  plans. 
Hence  came  the  mistaken  notion,  that  greatness  of  dimensions  would  produce 
greatness  of  character :  hence  proceeded  the  immeasurable  length  of  naked 
lawn  :  the  tedious  length  of  belts  and  drives  :  the  useless  breadth  of  meander- 
ing roads :  the  tiresome  monotony  of  shrubberies  and  pleasure-grounds  :  the 
naked  expanse  of  water  accompanied  by  trees,  and  all  the  unpicturesque 
features  which  disgrace  modern  gardening,  and  which  brought  on  Brown's 
system  the  opprobrious  epithets  of  "  bare  and  bald."  ' 

^  What  may  be  called  the  literary  history  of  gardening  shall  be  succinctly 
and  impartially  attempted. — Dallaway. 


172  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

are  in  a  window  like  those  of  a  lodger  up  three  pair  of  stairs  in 
Petticoat  Lane  or  Camomile  Street,  and  they  go  to  bed  regularly 
under  the  same  roof  that  I  do  :  dear,  how  charming  it  must  be  to 
walk  out  in  one's  own  garden,  and  sit  on  a  bench  in  the  open  air 
with  a  fountain  and  a  leaden  statue  and  a  rolling  stone  and  an 
arbour  !  have  a  care  of  sore  throat  though,  and  the  agoe. — Letter 
to  the  Rev.  Norton  Nicholls.     (^Pembroke  College,  June  24,  1769.) 

—'AlSfSh'— 

HORACE     "I  A^HEN  I  had  drank  tea  I  strolled  into  the  garden.     They 
(17 1 7  1707)  ^^'^  "^^  ^^  ^^^  ^*^^^  called  the  ^pleasure-ground.^     What 

a  dissonant  idea  of  pleasure !  Those  groves,  those  alleys,  where 
I  have  passed  so  many  charming  moments,  are  now  stripped  up, 
or  overgrown ;  many  fond  paths  I  could  not  unravel,  though  with 
a  very  exact  clue  in  my  memory.  I  met  two  gamekeepers  and 
a  thousand  hares !  In  the  days  when  all  my  soul  was  tuned  to 
pleasure  and  vivacity,  I  hated  Houghton  and  its  solitude ;  yet 
I  loved  this  garden  ;  as  now,  with  many  regrets,  I  love  Houghton  ; 
— Houghton,  I  know  not  what  to  call  it :  a  monument  of  grandeur 
or  ruin  ! — Letters. 

A  cottage  and  a  slip  of  ground  for  a  cabbage  and  a  gooseberry- 
bush  such  as  we  see  by  the  side  of  a  common,  were  in  all  pro- 
bability the  earliest  seats  and  gardens:  a  well  and  bucket  succeeded 
to  the  Pison  and  Euphrates.^ 

As  settlements  increased,  the  orchard  and  the  vine-yard 
followed ;  and  the  earliest  princes  of  tribes  possessed  just  the 
necessaries  of  a  modern  farmer. 

Matters,  we  may  well  believe,  remained  long  in  this  situation  ; 
and  though  the  generality  of  mankind  form  their  ideas  from  the 
import  of  words  in  their  own  age,  we  have  no  reason  to  think 
that  for  many  centuries  the  term  garden  implied  more  than  a 
kitchen-garden  or  orchard.     When  a  Frenchman  reads  of  the 

'  Two  of  the  four  rivers  enclosing  Paradise,  the  others  being  Gihon  and 
Hiddekel. 


HORACE  WALPOLE  173 

Garden  of  Eden,  I  do  not  doubt  but  he  concludes  it  was  some- 
thing approaching  to  that  of  Versailles,  with  dipt  hedges, 
berceaus,  and  trellis- work.  If  his  devotion  humbles  him  so 
far  as  to  allow  that,  considering  who  designed  it,  there  might 
be  a  labyrinth  full  of  ^sop's  fables,  yet  he  does  not  conceive 
that  four  of  the  largest  rivers  in  the  world  were  half  so  magni- 
ficent as  an  hundred  fountains  full  of  statues  by  Girardon.  It 
is  thus  that  the  word  garden  has  at  all  times  passed  for  what- 
ever was  understood  by  that  term  in  different  countries.  But 
that  it  meant  no  more  than  a  kitchen-garden  or  orchard  for 
several  centuries,  is  evident  from  those  few  descriptions  that 
are  preserved  of  the  most  famous  gardens  of  antiquity. 

(Walpole  then  describes  Alcinous's  garden  in  Homer  ;  the  hanging  gardens 
of  Babylon  ;  Pliny's  gardens,  at  his  Laurentine  and  Tusculan  villas  ;  the  gardens 
of  Herculaneum,  of  which  latter  he  says  :) 

In  the  paintings  found  at  Herculaneum  are  a  few  traces  of 
gardens,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  second  volume  of  the  prints. 
They  are  small  square  inclosures  formed  by  trellis-work,  and 
espaliers,^  and  regularly  ornamented  with  vases,  fountains  and 
Caryatides,  elegantly  symmetrical,  and  proper  for  the  narrow 
spaces  allotted  to  the  garden  of  a  house  in  a  capital  city.  From 
such  I  would  not  banish  those  playful  waters  that  refresh  a 
sultry  mansion  in  town,  nor  the  neat  trellis,  which  preserves 
its  wooden  verdure  better  than  natural  greens  exposed  to  dust. 
Those  treillages  in  the  gardens  at  Paris,  particularly  on  the 
Boulevard,  have  a  gay  and  delightful  effect.  They  form  light 
corridores,  and  transpicuous  arbours  through  which  the  sun- 
beams play  and  chequer  the  shade,  set  off  the  statues,  vases, 
and  flowers,  that  marry  with  their  gaudy  hotels,  and  suit  the 
galant  and  idle  society  who  paint  the  walks  between  their 
parterres,  and  realize  the  fantastic  scenes  of  Watteau  and  Durfe. 

From  what  I  have  said,  it  appears  how  naturally  and  insensibly 
the  idea  of  a  kitchen-garden  slid  into  that  which  has  for  so 
many   ages    been    pecuharly    termed    a    garden,    and    by    our 

^  At  Warwick  castle  is  an  ancient  suit  of  arras,  in  which  there  is  a  garden 
exactly  resembling  these  pictures  of  Herculaneum.  —  Walpole  s  Nolc. 


174  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

ancestors  in  this  country,  distinguished  by  the  name  of  a 
pleasure-garden. 

A  square  piece  of  ground  was  originally  parted  off  in  early  ages 
for  the  use  of  the  family — to  exclude  cattle  and  ascertain  the 
property,  it  was  separated  from  the  fields  by  a  hedge.  As  pride 
and  desire  of  privacy  increased,  the  inclosure  was  dignified  by 
walls ;  and  in  climes  where  fruits  were  not  lavished  by  the  ripen- 
ing glow  of  nature  and  soil,  fruit-trees  were  assisted  and  sheltered 
from  surrounding  winds  by  the  like  expedient ;  for  the  inundation 
of  luxuries  which  have  swelled  into  general  necessities,  have  almost 
all  taken  their  source  from  the  simple  fountain  of  reason. 

When  the  custom  of  making  square  gardens  enclosed  with  walls 
was  thus  established,  to  the  exclusion  of  nature  and  prospect, 
pomp  and  solitude  combined  to  call  for  something  that  might  en- 
rich and  enliven  the  insipid  and  unanimated  partition.  Fountains, 
first  invented  for  use,  which  grandeur  loves  to  disguise  and  throw 
out  of  the  question,  received  embellishments  from  costly  marbles, 
and  at  last,  to  contradict  utility,  tossed  their  waste  of  waters  into 
air  in  spouting  columns.  Art,  in  the  hands  of  rude  man,  had  at 
first  been  made  a  succedaneum  to  nature ;  in  the  hands  of  ostenta- 
tious wealth  it  became  the  means  of  opposing  nature ;  and  the 
more  it  traversed  the  march  of  the  latter,  the  more  nobility  thought 
its  power  was  demonstrated. 

Canals  measured  by  the  line  were  introduced  instead  of 
meandering  streams,  and  terrasses  were  hoisted  aloft  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  facile  slopes  that  imperceptibly  unite  the  valley  to 
the  hill.  Balustrades  defended  these  precipitate  and  dangerous 
elevations,  and  flights  of  steps  rejoined  them  to  the  subjacent  fiat 
from  which  the  terrass  had  been  dug.  Vases  and  sculpture  were 
added  to  these  unnecessary  balconies,  and  statues  furnished  the 
lifeless  spot  with  mimic  representations  of  the  excluded  sons  of 
men.  Thus  difficulty  and  expense  were  the  constituent  parts  of 
those  sumptuous  and  selfish  solitudes ;  and  every  improvement 
that  was  made,  was  but  a  step  farther  from  nature.  The  tricks 
of  water-works  to  wet  the  unwary,  not  to  refresh  the  panting 
spectator,  and  parterres   embroidered  in  patterns   like   a   petti- 


HORACE  WALPOLE  175 

coat,  were  but  the  childish  endeavours  of  fashion  and  novelty 
to  reconcile  greatness  to  what  it  had  surfeited  on. 

To  crown  these  impotent  displays  of  false  taste,  the  sheers  were 
applied  to  the  lovely  wildness  of  form  with  which  nature  has  dis- 
tinguished each  various  species  of  tree  and  shrub. 

The  venerable  oak,  the  romantic  beech,  the  useful  elm,  even 
the  aspiring  circuit  of  the  lime,  the  regular  round  of  the  chesnut, 
and  the  almost  moulded  orange-tree,  were  corrected  by  such 
fantastic  admirers  of  symmetry.  The  compass  and  square  were 
of  more  use  in  plantations  than  the  nursery-man.  The  measured 
walk,  the  quincunx,  and  the  etoile  imposed  their  unsatisfying 
sameness  on  every  royal  and  noble  garden.  Trees  were  headed, 
and  their  sides  pared  away ;  many  French  groves  seem  green 
chests  set  upon  poles.  Seats  of  marble,  arbours  and  summer- 
houses  terminated  every  visto ;  and  symmetry,  even  where  the 
space  was  too  large  to  permit  its  being  remarked  at  one  view, 
was  so  essential,  that,  as  Pope  observed  : 

' .  .  .  Each  alley  has  a  brother, 
And  half  the  garden  just  reflects  the  other.' 

Knots  of  flowers  were  more  defensibly  subjected  to  the  same 
regularity.     Leisure,  as  Milton  expressed  it, 

'  In  trim  gardens  took  his  pleasure.' 

In  the  garden  of  Marshal  de  Biron  at  Paris,  consisting  of  fourteen 
acres,  every  walk  is  buttoned  on  each  side  by  lines  of  flower-pots 
which  succeed  in  their  seasons.  When  I  saw  it,  there  were  nine 
thousand  pots  of  Asters,  or  la  Reine  Marguerite. 

We  do  not  precisely  know  what  our  ancesters  meant  by  a 
bower,  it  was  probably  an  arbour;  sometimes  it  meant  the  whole 
frittered  enclosure,  and  in  one  instance  it  certainly  included  a 
labyrinth.  Rosamund's  bower  was  indisputably  of  that  kind, 
though  whether  composed  of  walls  or  hedges  we  cannot  determine. 
A  square  and  a  round  labyrinth  were  so  capital  ingredients  of  a 
garden  formerly,  that  in  Du  Cerceau's  architecture,  who  lived  in 
the  time  of  Charles  IX.  and  Henry  III.,  there  is  scarce  a  ground 
plot  without  one  of  each.   The  enchantment  of  antique  appellations 


176  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

have  consecrated  a  pleasing  idea  of  a  royal  residence,  of  which  we 
now  regret  the  extinction.  Havering  in  the  Bower,  the  jointure  of 
many  dowager  queens,  conveys  to  us  the  notion  of  a  romantic  scene. 
In  Kip's  views  of  the  seats  of  our  nobility  and  gentry,  we  see 
the  same  tiresome  and  returning  uniformity.  Every  house  is 
approached  by  two  or  three  gardens,  consisting  perhaps  of  a 
gravel-walk  and  two  grass-plats,  or  borders  of  flowers.  Each  rises 
above  the  other  by  two  or  three  steps,  and  as  many  walks  and 
terrasses ;  and  so  many  iron  gates,  that  we  recollect  those  ancient 
romances,  in  which  every  entrance  was  guarded  by  nymphs  or 
dragons.  At  Lady  Oxford's  at  Piddletown  in  Dorsetshire,  there 
was,  when  my  brother  married,  a  double  enclosure  of  thirteen 
gardens  each  I  suppose  not  a  hundred  yards  square,  with  an 
enfilade  of  correspondent  gates  ;  and  before  you  arrived  at  these, 
you  passed  a  narrow  gut  between  two  stone  terrasses,  that  rose 
above  your  head,  and  which  were  crowned  by  a  line  of  pyramidal 
yews.  A  bowling-green  was  all  the  lawn  admitted  in  those  times, 
a  circular  lake  the  extent  of  magnificence. 

(Then  follows  reference  to  Hentzner,  and  the  origin  of  parks,  '  the 
principle  of  modern  gardening  ' : — 

Eulogy  of  Milton's  idea  of  Paradise,  about  which  he  says  :  '  He  seems  with 
the  prophetic  eye  of  taste  to  have  conceived,  to  have  foreseen  modern  garden- 
ing. .  .  .  The  description  of  Eden  is  a  warmer  and  more  just  picture  of  the 
present  style  than  Claud  Lorraine  could  have  painted  from  Hagley  or 
Stourhead.' — 

Analysis  of  Milton's  description  :  '  And  recollect  that  the  conceits  in 
Italian  gardens,  and  Theobalds  and  Nonsuch,  were  the  brightest  originals  that 
his  memory  could  furnish.' — 

Censure  of  Sir  William  Temple's  idea  of  a  garden :  quotation  from  his 
essay,  describing  Moor  Park  in  Hertfordshire. 

Spence's  account  of  Chinese  Emperor's  garden. — ) 

But  the  capital  stroke,  the  leading  step  to  all  that  has  followed, 
was  (I  believe  the  first  thought  was  Bridgman's)  the  destruction 
of  walls  for  boundaries,  and  the  invention  of  fosses — an  attempt 
then  deemed  so  astonishing  that  the  common  people  called  them 
Ha !  Ha's  !  to  express  their  surprise  at  finding  a  sudden  and 
unperceived  check  to  their  walk. 


HORACE  WALPOLE  177 

...  I  call  a  sunk  fence  the  leading  step,  for  these  reasons 
No  sooner  was  this  simple  enchantment  made,  than  levelling, 
mowing  and  rolling,  followed.  The  contiguous  ground  of  the 
park  without  the  sunk  fence  was  to  be  harmonized  with  the  lawn 
within ;  and  the  garden  in  its  turn  was  to  be  set  free  from  its 
prim  regularity,  that  it  might  assort  with  the  wilder  country 
without.  The  sunk  fence  ascertained  the  specific  garden,  but 
that  it  might  not  draw  too  obvious  a  line  of  distinction  between 
the  neat  and  the  rude,  the  contiguous  out-lying  parts  came  to  be 
included  in  a  kind  of  general  design :  and  when  nature  was  taken 
into  the  plan,  under  improvements,  every  step  that  was  made, 
pointed  out  new  beauties  and  inspired  new  ideas. 

At  that  moment  appeared  Kent ;  painter  enough  to  taste  the 
charms  of  landscape,  bold  and  opinionative  enough  to  dare  and 
dictate,  and  born  with  a  genius  to  strike  out  a  great  system  from 
the  twilight  of  imperfect  essays.  He  leaped  the  fence,  and  saw 
that  all  nature  was  a  garden.  He  felt  the  delicious  contrast  of 
hill  and  valley  changing  imperceptibly  into  each  other,  tasted  the 
beauty  of  the  gentle  swell,  or  concave  scoop,  and  remarked  how 
loose  groves  crowned  an  easy  eminence  with  happy  ornament 
and  while  they  called  in  the  distant  view  between  their  graceful 
stems,  removed  and  extended  the  perspective  by  delusive  com- 
parison. 

Thus  the  pencil  of  his  imagination  bestowed  all  the  arts  of 
landscape  on  the  scenes  he  handled.  The  great  principles  on 
which  he  worked  were  perspective,  and  light  and  shade.  Groups 
of  trees  broke  too  uniform  or  too  extensive  a  lawn ;  evergreens 
and  woods  were  opposed  to  the  glare  of  the  champain,  and  where 
the  view  was  less  fortunate,  or  so  much  exposed  as  to  be  beheld 
at  once,  he  blotted  out  some  parts  by  thick  shades,  to  divide  it 
into  variety,  or  to  make  the  richest  scene  more  enchanting  by 
reserving  it  to  a  farther  advance  of  the  spectator's  step.  Thus 
selecting  favourite  objects,  and  veiling  deformities  by  screens  of 
plantation;  sometimes  allowing  the  rudest  waste  to  add  its  foil 
to  the  richest  theatre,  he  realized  the  compositions  of  the  greatest 
masters  in  painting.     Where  objects  were  wanting  to  animate  his 

M 


178  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

horizon,  his  taste  as  an  architect  could  bestow  immediate  termina- 
tion. His  buildings,  his  seats,  his  temples,  were  more  the  works 
of  his  pencil  than  of  his  compasses.  We  owe  the  restoration  of 
Greece  and  the  diffusion  of  architecture  to  his  skill  in  landscape. 
But  of  all  the  beauties  he  added  to  the  face  of  this  beautiful 
country,  none  surpassed  his  management  of  water.  Adieu  to 
canals,  circular  basons,  and  cascades  tumbling  down  marble  steps, 
that  last  absurd  magnificence  of  Italian  and  French  villas.  The 
forced  elevation  of  cataracts  was  no  more.  The  gentle  stream 
was  taught  to  serpentize  seemingly  at  its  pleasure,  and  where 
discontinued  by  different  levels,  its  course  appeared  to  be  con- 
cealed by  thickets  properly  interspersed,  and  glittered  again  at 
a  distance  where  it  might  be  supposed  naturally  to  arrive.  Its 
borders  were  smoothed,  but  preserved  their  waving  irregularity. 
A  few  trees  scattered  here  and  there  on  its  edges  sprinkled  the 
tame  bank  that  accompanied  its  mreanders ;  and  when  it  dis- 
appeared among  the  hills,  shades  descending  from  the  heights 
leaned  towards  its  progress,  and  framed  the  distant  point  of  light 
under  which  it  was  lost,  as  it  turned  aside  to  either  hand  of  the 
blue  horizon. — Ofi  Modern  Gardening. 

— fAJ\/V- — 


CLAUDE  Receiver-General  of  Finances,  Member  of  the  French  Academy  and  of  the 

HENRI  Royal  Academy  of  Painting  and  Sculpture,  author  of  poem  on  '  The  Art  of 

WATELET,  Painting^  and  ^  Essay  on   Gardetts' ;  a  critic  of  the   type  of  the    Comte  de 
(I71o-I7oo)-        Caylus.     He  created  the  Moulin-Joli  {near  Paris)  of  which  the  Prince  de  Ligne 
wrote : — 

'  Void  utt  lieu  peut-Hre  encore  plus  selon  mon  cceur  {qu  Ermetwnville),  et 
plus  pris  de  Paris.  Cest  en  quitiant  Jin  jour  son  vain  tourbillon,  qu' errant  a 
faventure,  le  longde  la  Seifte,Je  le  perdis  de  vue  au  Moulitt-Joli,  et  que  je  me 
trouvai  moi-mlme,  car  ce  nest  qiiaux  champs  quon  peut  se  trouver.  Qui  que 
vous  soyez,  si  vous  n'etes  pas  des  caurs  endurcis,  asseyez-vous  entre  les  bras  dun 
satile,  au  Moulin-Joli,  sur  le  bord  de  la  riviere.  Lisez,  voyez  et  pleurez,  ce  ne 
sera  pas  de  tristesse,  mats  d'une  sensibility  delicieuse.  Le  tableau  de  votre  dme 
viendra  s'offrir  hvous.  .  .  .  Allez-y,  incr^ditles.  .  .  ,  MMitez  sur  les  inscrip- 
tions que  le  gout  y  a  dictt'es.  M^ditez  avec  le  sage,  soupirez  avec  Pamant,  et 
binissez  Watelet,' 


WATELET  179 

Watelet  divides  his  '  Essay  on  Gardens '  into  '  Jiseftil  establishments  and 
places  of  pleasure ' ;  the  first  is  represented  by  the  '  Fer?/ie  orn^e, '  which  he 
depicts  in  detail.  He  next  treats  of  ancient  Parks,  which  owed  their  origin 
to  feudal  pride  ;  Modern  Parks,  the  three  characters  of  which  he  classes  tinder 
the  heads  Picturesque,  Poetic  and  Rotnantic  {Romanesque).  In  the  '  Places  of 
Pleasure^  he  finds  the  power  of  fashion  and  imitation  too  strong,  good  taste 
yielding  to  artifice  '■  i7npotently  busy'  {' pt'niblment  iitdustriejix')  and  the 
*  fncchanical '  overwhelming  the  '  liberal. ' 

/~\  N  verra  done,  dans  les  Jardins,  les  ornemens  factices  preferes 
^^  aux  agremens  naturels.  Les  arbres  seront  soumis  a  des  formes 
et  a  des  usages  qui  les  defigurent.  .  .  .  Les  branches  et  les  feuillages 
mutiles  et  transformes  en  plafond,  ou  en  murs,  n'oseront  vegeter 
que  sous  les  loix  du  fer,  des  distributions  semblables  a  celle  des 
appartemens  reproduiront,  en  plein  air,  des  salles,  des  cabinets, 
des  boudoirs,  oil  se  trouvera  le  meme  ennui  qui  remplit  ceux 
que  couvrent  les  lambris  dores.  L'eau  stagnera  dans  des  bassins 
ronds  ou  quarres ;  elle  sera  emprisonnee  dans  des  tuyaux,  pour 
attendre  quelques  instants  de  liberte  de  la  volonte  du  fontainier. 
Le  marbre  qui  pretendra  ennoblir  par  la  richesse  ce  qui  dans  la 
Nature  est  bien  au-dessus  de  la  somptuosite,  s'y  montrera  souvent 
dans  un  etat  de  deperissement,  qui  contraste  avec  ses  pretentions 
a  la  magnificence.  Le  triste  bronze  temira  I'email  riant  des 
fleurs.  .  .  . 

Cependant,  dans  quelques  coins  oublies,  la  Nature  encore 
hasardera  d'user  de  ses  droits  a  la  liberte ;  et  s'il  arrive  que  ces 
arbres,  tourmentes  par  le  fer  et  le  niveau,  vieillissent,  ils 
acquerront,  en  depit  de  leurs  tirans,  des  proportions  grandes, 
nobles  et  robustes.  Alors,  parvenus  a  elever  leurs  cimes  au- 
dessus  de  la  portee  des  echelles  et  des  croissans,  ils  reprendront 
les  traits  de  cette  beaute  majestueuse  et  pittoresque  qui  appelle  et 
fixe  les  regards.  C'est  alors  que  de  larges  allees,  devenues  de 
superbes  galeries,  formeront  leur  votite  au  sommet  des  airs.  Les 
branchages  etendus  sans  gene,  s'approcheront  a  leur  gre, 
s'entrelasseront  sans  contrainte,  et  se  feront  justement  admirer 
par  des  effets  que  I'art  ne  peut  imiter.  .  .  . 

Dans  les  pares  Futile  doit  preter  des  secours  a  I'agrement,  et 
I'Art  doit  etre  subordonne  generalement  a  la  Nature. 


i8o 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


Dans  les  lieux  de  plaisance  I'Art  peut  s'arroger  le  droit  de  se 
montrer  avec  moins  de  reserve. 

Enfin,  dans  les  jardins  destines  a  des  sensations  plus  delicates 
et  plus  recherchees,  I'artifice  et  la  richesse  employes  a  des  effets 
surnaturels  et  a  des  prodiges,  s'effacent  de  I'emporter  sur  la 
Nature. 

Mais  pour  revenir  encore  un  instant  a  des  notions  primitives 
et  simples ;  dans  quelques  dispositions  de  promenades  et  de 
jardins  que  ce  soit,  le  premier  principe  est  d'entremeler  sans 
cesse  les  motifs  de  curiosity  qui  engagent  a  changer  de  place  aux 
objets  qui  attachent  et  qui  invitent  a  s'arreter. 

.  .  .  Aussi,  des  Arts  connus,  celui  qui  a  plus  de  relations 
d'idee  avec  I'Art  des  Jardins,  c'est  celui  de  la  Peinture. 

L' Architecture  s'en  est  cependant  presque  toujours  occup6 
jusqu'ici,  et  il  etait  assez  naturel  que  ne  regardant  pas  les  jardins 
comme  susceptibles  d'une  certaine  perfection  liberale  qu'on  y 
desire  aujourd'hui,  1' Artiste  a  qui  Ton  confiait  le  soin  des 
edifices,  ftit  charge  de  ce  qui  ne  semblait  en  etre  que  les  acces- 
soires.  D'ailleurs  on  appercevait  une  relation,  en  apparence 
assez  fondee,  entre  les  formes  adoptees  pour  les  jardins,  et  celles 
qu'employait  I'Architecture  ;  mais  on  ne  faisait  pas  attention  a  la 
difference  qu'apporte  dans  les  deux  Arts  la  seule  nature  des 
plans  sur  lesquels  ils  s'exercent. 

L'Architecte,  dans  la  partie  liberale  de  son  Art,  a  pour  objet 
de  rendre  agreable  toutes  les  parties  d'un  plan  vertical. 

Le  decorateur  de  jardin  exerce  ses  talens  pour  embellir  un 
plan  horizontal. 

Le  premier  doit  satisfaire  le  plutot  et  avec  le  moins  d'effort 
possible,  le  spectateur  qui  ne  destine  k  son  plaisir  que  des 
regards  et  quelques  momens. 

Le  second  ne  doit  decouvrir  que  I'une  apres  I'autre  les  beautes 
de  son  ouvrage  k  ceux  qui  consacrent  a  cette  jouissance  des  heures 
entieres. 

D'apres  des  intentions  si  differentes ;  les  plans  simples,  les 
formes  symmetriques,  les  proportions  faciles  a  saisir,  les  masses 
regulibres  seront  preferees  par  I'Architecte ;  tandis  que  les  plans 


GILBERT  WHITE  i8i 

misterieux,  les  formes  dissemblables,  les  effets  plus  appergus  que 
leurs  principes,  les  accidents  qui  combattent  la  regularite  offriront 
les  moyens  les  plus  favorables  au  decorateur.  La  precision  du 
trait,  la  proprete  des  details  seront  les  recherches  de  1' Architecture ; 
une  certaine  indecision  pleine  d'agremens,  cette  negligence  qui 
sled  si  bien  a  la  Nature  seront  les  finesses  de  I'Art  des  Jardins. — 
Essai  sur  les  Jardins,  1774. 

A  S  to  the  produce  of  a  Garden,  every  middle-aged  person  of  GILBERT 
■'*■     observation  may  perceive,  within  his  own  memory,  both  in  of  SELBORNE 
town  and  country,  how  vastly  the  consumption  of  vegetables  is  (1720- 1793). 
increased.      Green  stalls  in  cities  now  support  multitudes  in  a 
comfortable  state,  while  gardeners  get  fortunes.      Every  decent 
labourer  also  has  his  garden,  which  is  half  his  support  as  well  as 
his  delight ;  and  common  farmers  provide  plenty  of  beans,  peas, 
and  greens,  for  their  hinds  to  eat  with  their  bacon ;  and  those 
few  that  do  not  are  despised  for  their  sordid  parsimony,  and 
looked  upon  as  regardless  of  the  welfare  of  their  dependants. 
Potatoes    have    prevailed    in    this    little   district   by   means   of 
premiums,    within    these    twenty    years    only,    and    are    much 
esteemed  here  now  by  the  poor,  who  would  scarce  have  ven- 
tured to  taste  them  in  the  last  reign. 

Our  Saxon  ancestors  certainly  had  some  sort  of  cabbage, 
because  they  call  the  month  of  February  Sprout-cale  ;  but  long 
after  their  days,  the  cultivation  of  gardens  was  little  attended  to. 
The  religious  being  men  of  leisure,  and  keeping  up  a  constant 
correspondence  with  Italy,  were  the  first  people  among  us  that 
had  gardens  and  fruit-trees  in  any  perfection,  within  the  walls  of 
their  abbies,  priories,  and  monasteries,  where  the  lamp  of  know- 
ledge continued  to  burn,  however  dimly.  In  them  men  of  business 
were  formed  for  the  state  :  the  art  of  writing  was  cultivated  by  the 
monks  ;  they  were  the  only  proficients  in  mechanics,  gardening, 
and  architecture.  The  barons  neglected  every  pursuit  that  did 
not  lead  to  war,  or  tend  to  the  pleasure  of  the  chase. 

It  was  not  till  gentlemen  took  up  the  study  of  horticulture 


1 82  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

themselves,  that  the  knowledge  of  gardening  made  such  hasty 
advances.  Lord  Cobham,  Lord  Ila,  and  Mr  Waller  of  Beacons- 
field,  were  some  of  the  first  people  of  rank  that  promoted  the 
elegant  science  of  ornamenting  without  despising  the  superintend- 
ence of  the  kitchen  quarters  and  fruit  walls. — The  Natural  History 
of  Selborne.     {Letter  LXXIX. ) 


—'AAJS/j- 

ADAM          'T~^HE  circumstances  of  gardeners,  generally  mean,  and  always 
(172^-1700)  moderate,  may  satisfy  us  that  their  great  ingenuity  is  not 

commonly  over-recompenced.  Their  delightful  art  is  practised 
by  so  many  rich  people  for  amusement,  that  little  advantage  is 
to  be  made  by  those  who  practise  it  for  profit;  because  the 
persons  who  should  naturally  be  their  best  customers,  supply 
themselves  with  all  their  most  precious  productions.  —  The 
Nature  afid  Causes  of  the    Wealth  of  Nations. 

—rAJ\f\j^— 

WILLIAM  Owner  of  a  school  at  Cheatn  ;  Rector  of  Boldre,  near  New  Forest ;  author  of 
GILPIN  Lives  of  Bernard  Gilpin,  Cranmer,  Wycliffe,  and  others ;  also  of  ^  Forest 
^ 1 724- 1 804).  Sce}t€ry,'  ^  Essay  on  Prints,^  and  many  volumes  on  Picturesqtte  Beauty  and 
Travels  in  the  British  Isles,  from  the  year  1776,  with  his  own  illustrations  ; 
his  flame  is  generally  joined  with  those  of  Uvedale  Price  and  Payne  Knight  on 
the  '  Picturesque '  side  of  the  Controversy  with  the  '  Improvers '  and  Land- 
scape Gardeners,  '  Capability  '  Brown  and  'Amenity'  Repton. 

PROM  clumps  we  naturally  proceed  to  Park  scenery,  which  is 
*  generally  composed  of  combinations  of  clumps,  interspersed 
with  lawns.  ...  As  the  park  is  an  appendage  of  the  house,  it 
follows  that  it  should  participate  of  its  neatness  and  elegance. 
Nature,  in  all  her  great  walks  of  landscape,  observes  this  accom- 
modating rule.  She  seldom  passes  abruptly  from  one  mode  of 
scenery  to  another,  but  generally  connects  different  species  of 
landscape  by  some  third  species,  which  participates  of  both. 
Thus,  as  the  house  is  connected  with  the  country  through  the 
medium  of  the  park,  the  park  should  partake  of  the  neatness  of 
the  one,  and  of  the  wildness  of  the  other.  As  the  park  is  a  scene 
either  planted  by  art,  or  if  naturally  woody,  artificially  improved, 
we  expect  a  beauty  and  contrast  in  its  clumps,  which  we  do  not 


WILLIAM  MASON  183 

look  for  in  the  wild  scenes  of  Nature.  We  expect  to  see  its  lawns 
and  their  appendages  contrasted  with  each  other,  in  shape,  size 
and  disposition,  from  which  a  variety  of  artificial  scenes  will 
arise.  We  expect,  that  when  trees  are  left  standing  as  individuals, 
they  should  be  the  most  beautiful  of  their  kind,  elegant  and  well 
balanced.  ...  If  there  be  a  natural  river  or  a  real  ruin  in  the 
scene,  it  may  be  a  happy  circumstance  :  let  the  best  use  be  made 
of  it ;  but  I  should  be  cautious  in  advising  the  creation  of  either. 
At  least  I  have  rarely  seen  either  ruins  or  rivers  well  manufac- 
tured. Mr  Brown,  I  think,  has  failed  more  in  river  making  than 
in  any  of  his  attempts.  An  artificial  lake  has  sometimes  a  good 
effect ;  but  neither  propriety  nor  beauty  can  arise  from  it,  unless 
the  heads  and  extremities  of  it  are  perfectly  well  managed  and 
concealed ;  and  after  all  the  success  is  hazardous.  .  .  . 

As  the  garden,  or  pleasure  ground,  as  it  is  commonly  called, 
approaches  nearer  to  the  house  than  the  park,  it  takes  of  course  a 
higher  polish.  Here  the  lawns  are  shorn  instead  of  being  grazed ; 
the  roughness  of  the  road  is  changed  into  an  elegant,  gravel  walk ; 
and  knots  of  flowers  and  flowering  shrubs  are  introduced,  yet 
blended  with  clumps  of  forest  trees,  which  connect  it  with  the 
park.  Single  trees  also  take  their  station  here  with  great  pro- 
priety. Here  too,  if  the  situation  suits  it,  the  elegant  temple  may 
find  a  place.  But  it  is  an  expensive,  a  hazardous  and  often  a 
useless  decoration.  ...  In  the  most  polished  landscape,  unless 
nature  and  simplicity  lead  the  way,  the  whole  will  be  deformed. — 
'^  Remarks  on  Forest  Scenery,^  edited  by  Sir  T.  Dick  Lauder, 
1834  {who  has  also  edited  Humphry  Reptoti^s  complete  works). 

—Al\JSj\r^— 

Mason  was  Author  of  two  tragedies  and  of  the  poem  '  The  English  Gardett,''  WILLIAM 
1772.  MASON 

Dallaway  says  these  Notes  and  Commentaries  to  "The  English  Garden"  ('725-I797) 
are  by  W.  Burgh.     Loudon  quotes  them  as  by  Mason. — See  ' Encyclopcedia  "/ttttt  t  tam 
Gardening:  BURGH, 

qpHE  first    book  (of    'The    English   Garden')   contains    the  LL-D. 

■^       general  principles  of  the  art,  which  are  shown  to  be  no 
other  than  those  which  constitute  beauty   in  the  sister  art  of 


1 84  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

landscape-painting  ;  beauty  which  results  from  a  well-chosen 
variety  of  curves,  in  contradistinction  to  that  of  architecture, 
which  arises  from  a  judicious  symmetry  of  right  lines,  and  which 
is  thus  shown  to  have  afforded  the  principle  on  which  that  formal 
disposition  of  garden  ground,  which  our  ancestors  borrowed  from 
the  French  and  Dutch,  proceeded  :  a  principle  never  adopted  by 
nature  herself,  and  therefore  constantly  to  be  avoided  by  those 
whose  business  it  is  to  embellish  nature.  .  .  . 

The  picturesque  principle  being  thus  established,  the  second 
book  proceeds  to  a  more  practical  discussion  of  the  subject,  but 
confines  itself  to  one  point  only,  the  disposition  of  the  ground 
plan,  and  that  very  material  business  immediately  united  with  it, 
the  proper  disposition  and  formation  of  the  paths  and  fences. 
The  necessity  of  attending  constantly  to  the  curvilinear  principle 
is  first  shown,  not  only  in  the  formation  of  the  ground  plan,  with 
respect  to  its  external  boundary,  but  in  its  internal  swellings  and 
sinkings  where  all  abruptness  or  angular  appearances  are  as  much  to 
be  avoided,  as  in  the  form  of  the  outline  that  surrounds  the  whole. 

The  pathways  or  walks  are  next  considered,  and  that  peculiar 
curve  recommended  for  their  imitation,  which  is  so  frequently 
found  in  common  roads,  footpaths,  etc.,  and  which  being  casually 
produced  appears  to  be  the  general  curve  of  nature. 

The  rest  of  the  book  is  employed  in  minutely  describing  the 
method  of  making  sunk  fences,  and  other  necessary  divisions  of 
the  pleasure-ground  or  lawn  from  the  adjacent  field  or  park.  .  .  . 

The  third  book  proceeds  to  add  natural  ornament  to  that 
ground-plan,  which  the  second  book  has  ascertained,  in  its  two 
capital  branches,  wood  and  water.  .  .  .  Factitious  or  artificial 
ornaments  (apparently  including  flowers)  in  contradistinction 
to  natural  ones  last  treated,  form  the  general  subject  of  the 
fourth  book,  and  conclude  the  plan. 

I  had  before  called  Bacon  the  prophet,  and  Milton  the  herald, 
of  true  taste  in  Gardening  (on  account  of  their  introducing  'natural 
wildness ').  I  here  call  Addison,  Pope,  Kent,  etc.,  the  champions 
of  this  free  taste,  because  they  absolutely  brought  it  into  execution. 
— General  Postscript  to  the  ^English  Garden.'' 


SIR  WILLIAM  CHAMBERS  185 

Born  at  Stochholni ;  employed  by  George  III.  to  plan  the  gardens  at  Kew,  <7/"SIR 

which  he  published  the  '  Plans,  Elevations  and  Views '  in  folio,  176^,  having  in  WILLIAM 

y       '    /   J'  *       CHAMBERS 

1757  issued  ''Designs  of  Chinese  Buildings,^  etc.,  drawn  by  him  as  a  youth  if-         ^v 

in  China.    1772,   appeared  his  ^Dissertation  07t   Oriental  Ga7-dening'  and  a 

'  Treatise  on  Civil  Architecture ' ;  he  built  Somerset  House. 

npHE  Gardens  of  Italy,  France,  Germany  and  Spain,  and  of 
■^  all  the  other  countries  where  the  antient  style  still  pre- 
vails, are  in  general  mere  cities  of  verdure ;  the  walks  are  like 
streets  conducted  in  strait  lines,  regularly  diverging  from  differ- 
ent large  open  spaces,  resembling  public  squares ;  and  the 
hedges  with  which  they  are  bordered,  are  raised,  in  imitation 
of  walls,  adorned  with  pilasters,  niches,  windows  and  doors,  or 
ciit  into  colonades,  arcades  and  porticos ;  all  the  detached  trees 
are  shaped  into  obelisks,  pyramids  and  vases ;  and  all  the 
recesses  in  the  thickets  bear  the  names  and  forms  of  theatres, 
amphitheatres,  temples,  banqueting  halls,  ball  rooms,  cabinets 
and  saloons.  The  streets  and  squares  are  well  manned  with 
statues  of  marble  or  lead,  ranged  in  regular  lines,  like  soldiers 
at  a  procession ;  which,  to  make  them  more  natural,  are  some- 
times painted  in  proper  colours,  and  finely  gilt.  The  lakes 
and  rivers  are  confined  by  quais  of  hewn  stone,  and  taught  to 
flow  in  geometrick  order ;  and  the  cascades  glide  from  the 
heights  by  many  a  succession  of  marble  steps  :  not  a  twig  is 
suffered  to  grow  as  nature  directs,  nor  is  a  form  admitted  but 
what  is  scientific,  and  determinable  by  the  line  or  compass. 

In  England,  where  this  antient  style  is  held  in  detestation, 
and  where,  in  opposition  to  the  rest  of  Europe,  a  new  manner 
is  universally  adopted,  in  which  no  appearance  of  art  is  tolerated, 
our  gardens  differ  very  little  from  common  fields,  so  closely 
is  common  nature  copied  in  most  of  them  ;  there  is  generally 
so  little  variety  in  the  objects,  such  a  poverty  of  imagination 
in  the  contrivance,  and  of  art  in  the  arrangement  that  these 
compositions  rather  appear  the  offspring  of  chance  than  design ; 
and  a  stranger  is  often  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  he  be  walking 
in  a  meadow,  or  in  a  pleasure-ground,  made  and  kept  at  a  very 
considerable  expence :  he  sees  nothing  to  amuse  him,  nothing 
to  excite  his  curiosity,  nor  anything  to  keep  up  his  attention. 


1 86  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

At  his  first  entrance,  he  is  treated  with  the  sight  of  a  large  green 
field,  scattered  over  with  a  few  straggling  trees,  and  verged  with 
a  confused  border  of  little  shrubs  and  flowers ;  upon  farther  in- 
spection, he  finds  a  little  serpentine  path,  twining  in  regular  S's 
amongst  the  shrubs  of  the  border,  upon  which  he  is  to  go  round, 
to  look  on  one  side  at  what  he  has  already  seen,  the  large  green 
field ;  and  on  the  other  side  at  the  boundary,  which  is  never  more 
than  a  few  yards  from  him,  and  always  obtruding  upon  his  sight : 
from  time  to  time  he  perceives  a  little  seat  or  temple  stuck  up 
against  the  wall ;  he  rejoices  at  the  discovery,  sits  down,  rests 
his  weary  limbs,  and  then  reels  on  again,  cursing  the  line  of 
beauty,  till  spent  with  fatigue,  half  roasted  by  the  sun,  for  there 
is  never  any  shade,  and  tired  for  want  of  entertainment,  he  re- 
solves to  see  no  more :  vain  resolution !  there  is  but  one  path ; 
he  must  either  drag  on  to  the  end,  or  return  back  by  the  tedious 
way  he  came. 

Such  is  the  favourite  plan  of  all  our  smaller  gardens  :  and  our 
larger  works  are  only  a  repetition  of  the  small  ones ;  more  green 
fields,  more  shrubberies,  more  serpentine  walks  and  more  seats ; 
like  the  honest  bachelor's  feast,  which  consisted  in  nothing  but 
a  multiplication  of  his  own  dinner;  three  legs  of  mutton  and 
turneps,  three  roasted  geese,  and  three  buttered  apple-pies. 

It  is,  I  think,  obvious  that  neither  the  artful,  nor  the  simple 
style  of  Gardening  here  mentioned,  is  right :  the  one  being  too 
extravagant  a  deviation  from  nature ;  the  other  too  scrupulous 
an  adherence  to  her.  One  manner  is  absurd ;  the  other  insipid 
and  vulgar  :  a  judicious  mixture  of  both  would  certainly  be  more 
perfect  than  either. 

But  how  this  union  can  be  effected  is  difficult  to  say.  The 
men  of  art  and  the  friends  of  nature,  are  equally  violent  in 
defence  of  their  favourite  system  ;  and,  like  all  other  partizans, 
loth  to  give  up  anything,  however  unreasonable.  .  .  . 

Whether  the  Chinese  manner  of  Gardening  be  better  or  worse 
than  those  now  in  use  amongst  the  Europeans,  I  will  not  deter- 
mine: comparison  is  the  surest  as  well  as  the  easiest  test  of  truth; 
it  is  in  every  man's  power  to  compare  and  to  judge  for  himself. . . . 


JOHN  WILKES  187 

Though  the  Chinese  artists  have  nature  for  their  general  model, 
yet  they  are  not  so  attached  to  her  as  to  exclude  all  appearance  of 
art ;  on  the  contrary  they  think  it  on  many  occasions  necessary 
to  make  an  ostentatious  shew  of  their  labour.  Nature,  say  they, 
affords  us  but  few  materials  to  work  with.  .  .  . 

The  Chinese  are  therefore  no  enemies  to  strait  lines ;  because 
they  are,  generally  speaking,  productive  of  grandeur,  which  often 
cannot  be  attained  without  them  :  nor  have  they  any  aversion 
to  regular  geometrical  figures,  -which  they  say  are  beautiful  in 
themselves,  and  well  suited  to  small  compositions,  where  the 
luxuriant  irregularities  of  nature  would  fill  up  and  embarrass 
the  parts  they  should  adorn.  .  .  . 

The  usual  method  of  distributing  Gardens  in  China,  is  to 
contrive  a  great  variety  of  scenes  to  be  seen  from  certain  points 
of  view ;  at  which  are  placed  seats  or  buildings  adapted  to  the 
different  purposes  of  mental  or  sensual  enjoyments. 

The  perfection  of  their  Gardens  consists  in  the  number  and 
diversity  of  these  scenes,  and  in  the  artful  combination  of  their 
parts ;  which  they  endeavour  to  dispose  in  such  a  manner,  as  not 
only  separately  to  appear  to  the  best  advantage,  but  also  to  unite 
in  forming  an  elegant  and  striking  whole.  ...  In  their  large 
Gardens  they  contrive  different  scenes  for  the  different  times 
of  the  day;  disposing  at  the  points  of  view  buildings,  which 
from  their  use  point  out  the  proper  hour  for  enjoying  the  view 
in  its  perfections.  .  .  .  They  have  beside,  scenes  for  every  season 
of  the  year :  some  for  the  winter,  generally  exposed  to  the 
southern  sun,  and  composed  of  pines,  firs,  cedars,  evergreen 
oaks,  phillyreas,  hollies,  yews,  and  many  other  evergreens. — 'A 
Dissertation  on  Oriental  GardeJiifig,'  by  Sir  William  Chambers, 
Knt,  Comptroller  General  of  his  Majesty's  Works,  1772. 

T   CUT  off  all  the  rosebuds  of  the  trees  in  our  little  garden  JOHN 

^     (which  is  a  secret)  to  make  them   blow  at  the  end  of  the  WILKES 

(I727-I797)' 
season,  when  I  hope  to  enjoy  your  company  there  after  our  trees. 

— Letter  to  his  Daushter. 


1 88  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

GOLI^^ITH  np^^  English  have  not  yet  brought  the  art  of  gardening  to  the 
(,728-1774).  same  perfection  with  the  Chinese,  but  have  lately  begun  to 

imitate  them  ;  Nature  is  now  followed  with  greater  assiduity  than 
formerly;  the  trees  are  suffered  to  shoot  out  into  the  utmost 
luxuriance ;  the  streams  no  longer  forced  from  their  native  beds, 
are  permitted  to  wind  along  the  vallies  :  spontaneous  flowers  take 
the  place  of  the  finished  parterre,  and  the  enamelled  meadow  of 
the  shaven  green. 

Yet  still  the  English  are  far  behind  us  in  this  charming  art : 
their  designers  have  not  yet  attained  a  power  of  uniting  instruction 
with  beauty.  An  European  will  scarcely  conceive  my  meaning, 
when  I  say,  that  there  is  scarce  a  garden  in  China  which  does  not 
contain  some  fine  moral,  couch'd  under  the  general  design,  where 
one  is  not  taught  wisdom  as  he  walks,  and  feels  the  force  of  some 
noble  truth  or  delicate  precept  resulting  from  the  disposition  of 
the  groves,  streams  or  grotto's. 

Permit  me  to  illustrate  what  I  mean  by  a  description  of  my 
gardens  at  Quamsi.  My  heart  still  hovers  round  those  scenes 
of  former  happiness  with  pleasure ;  and  I  find  satisfaction  in 
enjoying  them  at  this  distance,  though  but  in  imagination. 

You  descended  from  the  house  between  two  groves  of  trees, 
planted  in  such  a  manner  that  they  were  impenetrable  to  the 
eye ;  while  on  each  hand  the  way  was  adorned  with  all  that  was 
beautiful  in  porcelaine,  statuary  and  painting. 

This  passage  from  the  house  opened  into  an  area  surrounded 
with  rocks,  flowers,  trees  and  shrubs,  but  all  so  disposed  as  if  each 
was  the  spontaneous  production  of  nature.  As  you  proceeded 
forward  on  this  lawn,  to  your  right  and  left  hand  were  two  gates, 
opposite  each  other,  of  very  different  architecture  and  design  ; 
and  before  you  lay  a  temple  built  rather  with  minute  elegance 
than  ostentation. 

The  right-hand  gate  was  planned  with  the  utmost  simplicity  or 
rather  rudeness ;  ivy  clasp'd  round  the  pillars,  the  baleful  cyprus 
hung  over  it ;  time  seemed  to  have  destroyed  all  the  smoothness 
and  regularity  of  the  stone  :  two  champions  with  lifted  clubs 
appeared  in  the  act  of  guarding  its  access ;  dragons  and  serpents 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  189 

were  seen  in  the  most  hideous  attitudes,  to  deter  the  spectator 
from  approaching ;  and  the  perspective  view  that  lay  behind 
seemed  dark  and  gloomy  to  the  last  degree;  the  stranger  was 
tempted  to  enter  only  from  the  motto  :  Pervia  Virtuti. 

The  opposite  gate  was  formed  in  a  very  different  manner; 
the  architecture  was  light,  elegant  and  inviting;  flowers  hung 
in  wreaths  round  the  pillars ;  all  was  finished  in  the  most  exact 
and  masterly  manner ;  the  very  stone  of  which  it  was  built  still 
preserved  its  polish  ;  nymphs  wrought  by  the  hand  of  a  master, 
in  the  most  alluring  attitudes,  beckoned  the  stranger  to  approach, 
while  all  that  lay  behind  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  seemed 
gay,  luxuriant,  and  capable  of  affordmg  endless  pleasure.  The 
motto  itself  contributed  to  invite  him ;  for  over  the  gate  was 
written  these  words,  Facilis  Descensus. — The  Citizen  of  the 
World. 

I  was  led  into  this  train  of  thinking  upon  lately  visiting  the 
beautiful  gardens  of  the  late  Mr  Shenstone,^  who  was  himself  a 
poet,  and  possessed  of  that  warm  imagination,  which  made  him 
ever  foremost  in  the  pursuit  of  flying  happiness.  Could  he  but 
have  foreseen  the  end  of  all  his  schemes,  for  whom  he  was 
improving,  and  what  changes  his  designs  were  to  undergo,  he 
would  have  scarcely  amused  his  innocent  life  with  what,  for 
several  years,  employed  him  in  a  most  harmless  manner,  and 
abridged  his  scanty  fortune.  As  the  progress  of  this  improve- 
ment is  a  true  picture  of  sublunary  vicissitude,  I  could  not  help 
calling  up  my  imagination,  which,  while  I  walked  pensively  along, 
suggested  the  following  reverie. 

As  I  was  turning  my  back  upon  a  beautiful  piece  of  water, 
enlivened  with  cascades,  and  rock-work,  and  entering  a  dark 
walk,  by  which  ran  a  prattling  brook,  the  Genius  of  the  place 
appeared  before  me,  but  more  resembling  the  God  of  Time,  than 
him  more  peculiarly  appointed  to  the  care  of  gardens.  Instead 
of  shears,  he  bore  a  scythe;  and  he  appeared  rather  with  the 
implements  of  husbandry,  than  those  of  a  modern  gardener. 
^  At  the  Leasowes. 


iQo  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Having  remembered  this  place  in  its  pristine  beauty,  I  could 
not  help  condoling  with  him  on  its  present  ruinous  situation.  I 
spoke  to  him  of  the  many  alterations  which  had  been  made,  and 
all  for  the  worse  ;  of  the  many  shades  which  had  been  taken  away, 
of  the  bowers  that  were  destroyed  by  neglect,  and  the  hedge-rows 
that  were  spoiled  by  clipping.  The  Genius,  with  a  sigh,  received 
my  condoleraent  and  assured  me  that  he  was  equally  a  martyr  to 
ignorance  and  taste,  to  refinement  and  rusticity. 

Seeing  me  desirous  of  knowing  farther,  he  went  on  : 

'You  see  in  the  place  before  you  the  paternal  inheritance  of 
a  poet ;  and,  to  a  man  content  with  little,  fully  sufificient  for  his 
subsistence :  but  a  strong  imagination,  and  a  long  acquaintance 
with  the  rich,  are  dangerous  foes  to  contentment. 

'Our  poet,  instead  of  sitting  down  to  enjoy  life,  resolved  to 
prepare  for  its  future  enjoyment,  and  set  about  converting  a 
place  of  profit  into  a  scene  of  pleasure.  This  he  at  first  supposed 
could  be  accomplished  at  a  small  expense ;  and  he  was  willing 
for  a  while  to  stint  his  income,  to  have  an  opportunity  of  dis- 
playing his  taste.  The  improvement  in  this  manner  went  forward ; 
one  beauty  attained  led  him  to  wish  for  some  other ;  but  still  he 
hoped  that  every  emendation  would  be  the  last.  It  was  now, 
therefore,  found  that  the  improvement  exceeded  the  subsidy — 
that  the  place  was  grown  too  large  and  too  fine  for  the  inhabitant. 
But  that  pride  which  was  once  exhibited,  could  not  retire ;  the 
garden  was  made  for  the  owner,  and  though  it  was  become  unfit 
for  him,  he  could  not  willingly  resign  it  to  another.  Thus  the 
first  idea  of  its  beauties  contributing  to  the  happiness  of  his  life, 
was  found  unfaithful ;  so  that,  instead  of  looking  within  for  satis- 
faction, he  began  to  think  of  having  recourse  to  the  praises  of 
those  who  came  to  visit  his  Improvement. 

'  In  consequence  of  this  hope,  which  now  took  possession  of 
his  mind,  the  gardens  were  open  to  the  visits  of  every  stranger; 
and  the  country  flocked  round  to  walk,  to  criticise,  to  admire, 
and  to  do  mischief.  He  soon  found  that  the  admirers  of  his  taste 
left  by  no  means  such  strong  marks  of  their  applause,  as  the 
envious  did  of  their  malignity.     All  the  windows  of  his  temples, 


IMMANUEL  KANT  191 

and  the  walls  of  his  retreats,  were  impressed  with  the  characters 
of  profaneness,  ignorance  and  obscenity  ;  his  hedges  were  broken, 
his  statues  and  urns  defaced,  and  his  lawns  worn  bare.  It  was 
now,  therefore,  necessary  to  shut  up  the  gardens  once  more,  and 
to  deprive  the  public  of  that  happiness  which  had  before  ceased 
to  be  his  own.— Assays :  '  O/i  the  Tefiants  of  the  Leasowes.'' 

— rAJ\/V- — 

T  WOULD  divide  the  Art  of  Painting,  as  one  of  the  second  IMMANUEL 
I  KANT 

*■     kind     of    Formative    Arts,    representing     sense-appearance  / 1724-180^1 

{Smnen-schein)  artistically  united  with  ideas,  into  that  of 
beautiful  presentation  of  Nature,  and  beautiful  combination 
of  her  products.  The  first  would  be  pure  Painting,  the  second 
Pleasure-gardening.  For  the  first  gives  only  the  appearance  of 
physical  extent,  whereas  the  second  represents  this  according 
to  truth,  but  only  the  appearance  of  its  application  and  use  for 
other  ends,  as  merely  for  the  play  of  the  imagination  in  the 
contemplation  of  its  forms.  The  latter  is  nothing  else  but 
decoration  of  the  ground  with  the  same  variety  (grasses,  flowers, 
bushes  and  trees,  even  waters,  hills  and  valleys)  as  Nature 
presents  to  the  sight,  only  in  different  combinations  and  ac- 
cording to  certain  ideas.  But  the  beautiful  juxtaposition  of 
material  things  is  also  only  presented  to  the  eye,  as  in  painting. 
— Criticisjn  of  the  Aesthetic  Judgt?ient. 

—j\t\/\f\r- — 

Professor  of  Botatiy  at   Ca?nbridge,  a  post  he   obtained  by  fraud.     'One  RICHARD 
of  the  first  writers   on   Horticulture,   who  concentrated  in  any  considerable  BRADLEY, 
degree,  the  light  of  other  Sciences  for  its  i7nprovement.     His  works  abotind  in  ,1         \ 
information  collected  from  books  and  tnen  of  learning,' — G.  W.  Johnson.     He      '     '  ->~'' 
was  the  author  of  twenty-nine  differeitt  works  on  Botany,  Husbandry  and 
Gardening.     His    '  General    Treatise   of   Husbandry   and    Gardening'    is    a 
summary  of  what  he  had  previously  turitten  on  the  subject. 

"V  A  7HEN  I  consider  these  things,  I  cannot  enough  lament  the 

^  ^      want  of  learning  among  the  gardeners  of  this  nation  ;  who 

in   their   spare   hours,  were   they  Men   of  Letters,   might   very 


192 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


greatly  improve  themselves  by  reading  the  works  of  the  Ancients, 
and  bringing  their  several  propositions  to  practice ;  and  also 
might  bring  to  light  many  of  the  most  hidden  branches  of  the 
art  of  Gardening,  and  have  the  pleasure  of  producing  several 
effects,  as  good  and  useful,  perhaps,  as  most  of  those  that  are 
called  modern  discoveries.  For  upon  a  deliberate  perusal  of 
Columella,  Varro,  and  the  other  gentlemen  I  am  to  descant 
upon  in  the  following  work,  I  find  many  excellent  pieces,  which 
have  not  hitherto  been  made  common  with  us ;  many  more 
that  have  not  yet  been  try'd  in  our  fields  and  gardens. — A  Survey 
of  the  Ancient  Husba7idry  and  Gardening. 


•ffi/\/V'— 


ERASMUS 

DARWIN, 

F.R.S., 

(1731-1802). 


A/.  D. ,  Edin. ,  and  practised  as  Physician  at  Dei-by  ;  grandfather  of  Charles 
Darwin  ;  author  of '  Botanic  Garden  or  Loves  of  the  Plants, '  and  '  Zoonomia.^ 

'npHE  beautiful  colours  of  the  petals  of  flowers  with  their 
*-  polished  surfaces  are  scarcely  rivalled  by  those  of  shells, 
of  feathers,  or  of  precious  stones.  Many  of  these  transient 
beauties,  which  give  such  brilliancy  to  our  gardens,  delight  at 
the  same  time  the  sense  of  smell  with  their  odours :  yet  have 
they  not  been  extensively  used  as  articles,  either  of  diet, 
medicine,  or  the  arts. — Fhytologia,  or  The  Philosophy  of  Agri- 
culture and  Gardenifig,   1800. 


—■At\/\/v— 


WILLIAM 
COWPER 

(1731-1780). 


ly  A  Y  green-house  is  never  so  pleasant  as  when  we  are  just  upon 
^^'-  the  point  of  being  turned  out  of  it.  The  gentleness  of  the 
autumnal  suns,  and  the  calmness  of  this  latter  season,  make  it 
a  much  more  agreeable  retreat  than  we  ever  find  it  in  the 
summer ;  when  the  winds  being  generally  brisk,  we  cannot  cool 
it  by  admitting  a  sufficient  quantity  of  air,  without  being  at  the 
same  time  incommoded  by  it.  But  now  I  sit  with  all  the 
windows  and  the  door  wide  open,  and  am  regaled  with  the 
scent  of  every  flower,  in  a  garden  as  full  of  flowers  as  I  have 


WILLIAM  COWPER  193 

known  how  to  make  it.  We  keep  no  bees,  but  if  I  lived  in  a 
hive,  I  should  hardly  hear  more  of  their  music.  All  the  bees 
in  the  neighbourhood  resort  to  a  bed  of  mignonette  opposite 
to  the  window,  and  pay  me  for  the  honey  they  get  out  of  it 
by  a  hum,  which,  though  rather  monotonous,  is  as  agreeable 
to  my  ear  as  the  whistling  of  my  linnets.  All  the  sounds  that 
Nature  utters  are  delightful,  at  least  in  this  country. — Letter  to 
Rev.  John  Neivto7i.     I^Sept.  18,  1784.) 

My  dear,  I  will  not  let  you  come  till  the  end  of  May,  or 
beginning  of  June,  because  before  that  time  my  green-house 
will  not  be  ready  to  receive  us,  and  it  is  the  only  pleasant 
room  belonging  to  us.  When  the  plants  go  out,  we  go  in. 
I  line  it  with  mats,  and  spread  the  floor  with  mats ;  and  there 
you  shall  sit  with  a  bed  of  mignonette  at  your  side,  and  a  hedge 
of  honeysuckles,  roses,  and  jasmine ;  and  I  will  make  you  a 
bouquet  of  myrtle  every  day.  Sooner  than  the  time  I  mention, 
the  country  will  not  be  in  complete  beauty. — Letter  to  Lady 
Hesketh.     {Olney,  February  9,  1786.) 

I  write  in  a  nook  that  I  call  my  boudoir ;  it  is  a  summer- 
house  not  bigger  than  a  sedan-chair ;  the  door  of  it  opens  into 
the  garden  that  is  now  crowded  with  pinks,  roses,  and  honey- 
suckles, and  the  window  into  my  neighbour's  orchard.  It 
formerly  served  an  apothecary  as  a  smoking-room ;  at  present, 
however,  it  is  dedicated  to  sublimer  uses. — Letter  to  Hill. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

GARDEN  DESIGN  AS  A  LIBERAL  OR  FINE  ART:  THE  'COMPOSI- 
TION '  OF  NATURE  OR  LANDSCAPE  —  REACTION  OF  THE 
'  PICTURESQUE  '  WRITERS  —  COSMOPOLITANISM  AND  ECLEC- 
TICISM   IN    THE   GARDEN. 

THOMAS  Loudon  in  the  '  Encyclopitdia  oj  Gardening^  says  of  him : — '  His  "  Observa- 

WHATELY  tions  on  Modern  Gardening,"  published  in  1770,  is  the  gi-and fundamental  and 
{d.  1772).  standard  work  071  English  gardening.     It  is  entirely  analytical ;  treating  first 

of  the  materials,  then  of  the  scenes,  and  lastly,  of  the  subjects  of  gardening.  Its 
style  has  been  proiuninced  by  the  learned  Eason,  inimitable  ;  and  the  descriptions 
with  which  his  investigations  are  accompanied  have  been  largely  copied  and 
amply  praised  by  Alison  in  his  work  on  "  Taste."  The  book  was  soon 
translated  into  the  continental  languages,  and  is  judiciously  praised  in  the 
Mercure  de  France,  Journal  Encyclopedique  a;/flf  Wieland's  Journal.  G.  Mason 
alone  dissents  from  the  general  opinion,  enlarging  on  the  very  few  faults  or 
peculiarities  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  book.''  Whately  was  the  brother  of 
the  then  proprietor  of  Nonsuch  Park,  near  Epsom  in  Surrey,  which  place  he 
mainly  assisted  in  '  laying  ojit.^  He  was  for  a  short  time  secretaj-y  to  the  Earl 
of  Suffolk  ;  then  M.  P.  and  secretary  to  the  Treasury  ;  besides  this  work,  he 
published  two  anonymous  English  pamphlets,  and  died  in  1772.  After  his 
death  his  Remarks  on  Shakespeare  were  published  in  1785  by  his  brother,  the 
Rev.  DrJ.  Whately,  and  a  second  edition  in  1 808  by  his  tiephezu  Dr  R.  IVJtately, 
Archbishop  of  Dublin,  1 83 1 . 

GARDENING,  in  the  perfection  to  which  it  has  been  lately 
brought  in  England,  is  entitled  to  a  place  of  considerable 
rank  among  the  liberal  arts.  It  is  as  superior  to  landskip-painting 
as  a  reality  to  a  representation  :  it  is  an  exertion  of  fancy,  a 
subject  for  taste ;  and  being  released  now  from  the  restraints  of 
regularity  and  enlarged  beyond  the  purposes  of  domestic  con- 
venience, the  most  beautiful,  the  most  simple,  the  most  noble 
scenes  of  nature  are  all  within  its  province :  for  it  is  no  longer 
confined  to  the  spots  from  which  it  borrows  its  name,  but 
194 


I 


4 


THOMAS  WHATELY  195 

regulates  also  the  disposition  and  embellishments  of  a  park,  a 
farm,  or  a  riding ;  and  the  business  of  a  gardener  is  to  select  and 
to  apply  whatever  is  great,  elegant,  or  characteristic  in  any  of  them ; 
to  discover  and  to  shew  all  the  advantages  of  the  place  upon 
which  he  is  employed ;  to  supply  its  defects,  to  correct  its  faults, 
and  to  improve  its  beauties.  For  all  these  operations,  the  objects 
of  nature  are  still  his  only  materials.  .  .  .  Nature,  always  simple, 
employs  but  four  materials  in  the  composition  of  her  scenes, 
ground,  wood,  water,  and  rocks.  The  cultivation  of  nature  has 
introduced  a  fifth  species,  the  buildings  requisite  for  the  accom- 
modation of  men. 

But  the  art  of  gardening  aspires  to  more  than  imitation  :  it  can 
create  original  characters  and  give  expressions  to  the  several 
scenes  superior  to  any  they  can  receive  from  illusions.  Certain 
properties  and  certain  dispositions  of  the  objects  of  nature  are 
adapted  to  excite  particular  ideas  and  sensations. 

Elegance  is  the  peculiar  excellence  of  a  garden ;  greatness  of  a 
park  ;  simplicity  of  a  farm  ;  zxi^  pleasantness  of  a  riding. 

Whatever  contributes  to  render  the  scenes  of  nature  delightful 
is  amongst  the  subjects  of  gardening;  and  animate  as  well  as 
inanimate  objects  are  circumstances  of  beauty  or  character. 
Nothing  is  unworthy  of  the  attention  of  a  gardener  which  can 
tend  to  improve  his  compositions,  whether  by  immediate  effects 
or  by  suggesting  a  train  of  pleasing  ideas.  The  whole  range  of 
nature  is  open  to  him,  from  the  parterre  to  the  forest ;  and  what- 
ever is  agreeable  to  the  senses  or  the  imagination  he  may  appro- 
priate to  the  spot  he  is  to  improve ;  it  is  a  part  of  his  business  to 
collect  into  one  place  the  delights  which  are  generally  dispersed 
through  different  species  of  country. 

But  in  this  apphcation,  the  genius  of  the  place  must  always  be 
particularly  considered ;  to  force  it  is  hazardous ;  and  an  attempt 
to  contradict  it  is  always  unsuccessful. 

The  art  of  laying  out  gardens  has,  within  a  little  more  than  a 
hundred  years  in  Europe,  and  within  a  much  less  time  in  Great 


196  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Britain  started  up  from  being  one  of  the  mechanical  arts,  in 
which  mere  utility  is  intended,  to  be  one  of  the  fine  arts,  which 
join  utility  to  pleasure.  In  all  ages  men  have  known  the  use  of 
fruits,  flowers  and  herbs  for  the  pleasure  of  the  senses  :  it  is 
almost  only  in  our  age  that  they  have  introduced  into  gardens 
one  half  of  the  pleasing  objects  of  art  and  nature  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  the  imagination.  .  .  . 

There  seem  in  nature  to  be  four  different  dispositions  of 
grounds  distinct  from  each  other,  and  which  create  distinct  and 
separate  sentiments. 

The  first  situation  is  that  of  a  high-land  country,  consisting  of 
great  and  steep  mountains,  rocks,  lakes,  impetuous  rivers,  etc. 
Such  a  place  is  Inverary. 

The  sentiment  which  a  situation  like  this  creates  in  the  breast 
of  a  beholder  is  obviously,  and  every  one  feels  it,  that  of  Grandeur. 

The  next  is  what  one  may  call  a  romantic  disposition  of 
grounds,  consisting  of  small  valleys,  woods  hanging  over  them, 
smooth  rivers,  the  banks  steep  but  accessible,  etc.  Places  like 
this  we  have  on  the  banks  of  many  of  our  small  rivers  in  the 
low  countries  of  Scotland. 

The  sentiment  which  such  a  situation  seems  to  flatter,  is  that 
of  composure  of  mind,  and  perhaps  even  of  melancholy. 

A  third  situation  is  that  of  grounds  running  by  gentle  falls  and 
risings  easily  into  each  other.  In  situations  of  this  kind  are 
placed  many  of  the  English  modern  gardens;  and  particularly 
those  which  Kent  delighted  in  laying  out.  Such  a  situation,  as  it 
is  generally  attended  with  great  verdure,  cultivation  and  populous- 
ness,  naturally  creates  in  the  mind  that  sentiment  of  cheerfulness 
which  society  and  action  are  apt  to  create. 

The  last  situation  is  that  of  a  dead  flat.  A  situation  of  this 
kind  may,  from  its  verdure,  or  from  its  extent,  or  from  its  contrast 
with  other  grounds  that  surround  it,  create  some  particular  senti- 
ment, but  merely  considered  in  itself,  it  appears  to  create  little 
or  none.  .  .  . 

The  English  in  such  a  situation  attempt  to  humour  nature;  the 
French  in  such  a  situation  attempt  to  hide  her.  ...  In  a  small 


I 


4 


t 


THOMAS  WHATELY  197 

flat  the  serpentine  river,  the  open  planting,  the  lake  and  island, 
the  moulding  the  flat  into  the  gentle  unevennesses  of  Kent,  have 
a  rural  and  cheerful  aspect ;  of  this  last  particularly  there  is  a 
fine  instance  in  Kent's  plantation  at  the  back  of  the  house  at 
Chiswick,  compared  with  the  phlegmatic  plantation  of  Bridgeman 
on  the  same  side  of  the  garden.  But  these  contrivances  though 
proper  for  a  small  plain,  are  too  few  and  simple  for  a  great  one.  .  .  . 
We  must  frankly  call  in  the  assistance  of  art  to  make  the  chief 
parts  of  the  garden.  For  this  reason  bosquets,  statues,  vases, 
trees  cut  into  great  arches,  jets-d'eau,  cascades  forced  up  and 
made  to  tumble  down  an  hundred  steps,  regular  basins,  peristiles, 
temples,  long  vistas,  the  star  plantation,  etc.,  are  in  taste  here. 
All  the  magnificence  of  Versailles,  without  its  conceits  or  its  too 
often  repeated  symmetry,  should  be  admitted.  To  supply  the 
defects  of  natural  prospect  the  walks  should  terminate  in  artificial 
vistas ;  and  in  the  light,  perhaps  even  painted  cascades  and 
buildings,  as  practised  by  some  of  our  English  gardeners,  if 
pardonable  anywhere,  are  pardonable  here.  To  get  too,  as  far  as 
can  be,  the  advantage  of  natural  prospects,  the  artificial  mounts 
of  the  flat  Dutch  gardens  should  here  be  introduced.  ...  As 
there  is  but  little  pleasure  to  the  imagination  arising  from  this 
situation  itself,  so  it  should  be  contrived  to  give  as  much  pleasure 
to  the  senses  as  possible ;  for  this  reason,  the  flowers  should  be 
sown  in  beds  and  parterres,  to  be  the  more  obviously  seen,  and 
to  throw  out  their  sweets  stronger  into  the  air ;  fruits  of  the 
finest  kinds  should  be  spread  through  the  compartments ;  the 
flowering  shrubs  should  be  planted  in  clumps,  and  assorted  in 
their  colours  and  flowers  with  all  the  nicety  of  a  well  made-up 
flower-pot ;  to  strike  with  the  stronger  surprize,  the  trees  should 
be  all  exotics,  and  of  the  rarest  kinds  ;  and  to  create  a  greater 
variety,  though  the  Chinese  form  from  its  fantastical  appearance 
and  the  Corinthian  order  from  its  magnificence,  be,  in  general, 
the  prospect  for  such  an  adorned  garden,  yet  buildings  of  all 
species  under  the  sun  that  have  dignity  in  them  should  here  find 
place.  In  short,  every  agreeable  object  that  creates  surprize 
and  that  exhibits  a  view  of  magnificent  art  should  enter  into  the 


198  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

composition  of  such  a  garden.  It  is  more  proper  when  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  a  great  city  and  thrown  open  to  all  the  world 
than  when  in  a  remote  province,  and  for  that  reason  some  of 
the  French  gardens  have  an  excuse  which  those  at  Stow  have 
not. 

A  garden  like  this  is  a  kind  of  fairy  land.  It  is  in  comparison 
of  other  gardens  what  an  opera  is  in  comparison  of  a  tragedy : 
neither  of  them  should  be  judged  by  the  ordinary  rules  of 
experience  or  taste,  but  by  the  capricious  ones  of  variety  and 
Fancy.  —  Observations  oti  Modern  Gardening,  and  laying  out 
Pleasure-Grounds,  Parks,  Ridings,  (^c.  {A  nav  edition  1801,  with 
notes  by  Horace  Walpole,  late  Earl  of  Orford;  and  ornamented  with 
coloured  plates,  chiefly  designed  by  Mr  Woollet,  of  Hall  Barn,  Esher, 
Carlton  House,  JVooburn,  Pain's  Hill  and  Hagley.) 


-^A/WV" — 


CHARLES        One  of  the  most  cosmopolitan  and  accomplished  men  of  arms  and  letters 

p^M^?'       '^^''°  ^^^^  lived:   '■  Le  seul  t't ranger,'  said  Alme.  de  Stacl,  '  qui  dans  le  genre 

DF  LIPMF   -^^''f^^^j  ^"^^  devemi  module,  an  lien  d^etre  imitateur.'     '  I  have  six  or  seven 

(i71i;-l8l4).     countries,''  he  declared.     Born  in  Brussels,  he  entered  the  Austrian  army  at 

the  age  of  ij,  fought  7vith  distinction  in  the  Seven  Years  War,  and  was  then 

invited  to   the  French  Court  by  the  Comte  d'Artois.     Sent  on  a  mission  to 

Russia,  he  was  made  a  Field-Marshal  by  Catherine  the  Great,  with  an  estate 

in  the  Crimea.      A   Citizen  of  the  World  ivith  the  freedom  of  all  the  Courts 

of  Europe,  a  dandy  of  the  first  zvater  and  a  brilliant  wit  and  '  catiseur,'  he  had 

also  a  most  delicate  instinct  for  letters,  a  'vein  of  serious  refection  luorhed  in 

epigram,  a7td  a  fine  taste  in  designitig  gardens. 

C  AINTE-BEU  VE  writes  thus  of  the  Prince's  Essay  on  Gardens  :— 
^  Parmi  les  ouvrages  decousus  echappes  au  prince  de  Ligne 
dans  la  premiere  moitie  de  sa  vie,  et  qui  le  peignent  le  mieux  a 
cette  date,  je  distingue  ce  qu'il  a  ecrit  sur  les  jardins  a  I'occasion 
de  ceux  de  Beloeil.  Coup  d^oeil  sur  Belceil,  avait-il  intitule  son 
Essai  (1781)  par  un  de  ces  jeux  de  mots  et  de  ces  sortes  de 
calembours  qui  sont  un  de  ses  petits  travers.  C'etait  le  temps 
oil  I'abbd  Delille  publiait  son  poeme  des  Jardins,  et  disait  de  ce 


I 


PRINCE  DE  LIGNE  199 

beau  lieu  de  Beloeil  pr^s  d'Ath  en  Belgique,  qui  etait  la  propriety 
et  en  partie  la  creation  du  Prince  de  Ligne.^ 

'  Beloeil,  tout  a  la  fois  magnifique  et  champetre.'  On  etait 
alors  en  France  dans  une  veine  de  creation  et  de  renouvelle- 
ment  pour  les  jardins  :  le  genre  anglais  s'y  introduisait  et  y 
rompait  I'harmonie  de  le  Notre.  C'etait  a  qui  s'etudierait  a 
diversifier  la  nature  et  a  en  profiter  pour  I'embellir.  M.  de 
Girardin  creait  Ermenonville,  M.  de  Laborde  Mereville ;  M. 
Boutin  avait  Tivoli,  et  M.  Watelet  Moulin-Joli.  Belceil  etait, 
et  j'aime  a  le  croire,  est  encore  un  assemblage  et  un  compose 
charmant  de  jardins  anglais  et  francais,  quelque  chose  de  naturel 
et  de  regulier,  d'elegant  et  de  majestueux.  Tout  ce  qui,  a 
Beloeil,  etait  grand,  regulier,  dans  le  genre  de  Le  Notre,  venait 
du  Pere  du  prince  :  lui,  il  s'occupa  d'y  jeter  le  varie  et  I'imprevu ; 
il  ne  lui  manque  que  plus  de  temps  pour  achever  son  oeuvre,  son 
poeme.  II  n'est  pas  exclusif;  il  serait  bien  fache  de  bannir  la 
ligne  droite;  il  ne  veut  pas  substituer  la  monotonie  anglaise  a 
la  monotonie  franQaise,  ce  qui  de  son  temps  arrivait  deja  ;  mais 
en  jardins  comme  en  amour,  il  est  d'avis  qu'il  ne  faut  pas  tout 
montrer  d'abord,  sans  quoi,  le  premier  moment  passe,  Ton  bailie 
et  I'on  s'ennuie.  II  traite  des  batiments  dans  leurs  rapports  avec 
la  campagne  :  autre  doit  etre  une  residence  et  un  palais,  autre  un 
chateau,  autre  une  maison  de  plaisance,  une  maison  de  campagne, 
une  maison  des  vignes,  etc. ;  mais  quels  que  soient  les  batiments, 
'  j'exclus,'  dit-il,  '  tous  ceux  qui  ont  une  fagade  bourgeoise,  sans 
mouvement  dans  le  toit  ou  la  batisse,  sans  milieu,  sans  saillant  sur 
les  ailes,  ou  en  platre  avec  un  air  vulgaire  ;  et  je  recommande 
encore  le  beau  ou  le  simple,  le  magnifique  ou  le  joli,  et  toujours 
le  propre,  le  piquant  et  le  distingue.' — Causeries  du  Lundi. 
Vol.  viii. 

1  '  His  patrimonial  house,  the  Castle  of  Beloeil,  still  stands  in  quaint 
supremacy  over  the  modest  village  of  Ligne,  about  six  miles  from  Ath,  in 
Belgium.  It  has  endured  seven  centuries  of  change  ;  and  its  gothic  peculi- 
arities, with  its  old-world  garden,  and  its  ancient  horn-beam,  yet  answer  to 
the  prolix  description  thereof  given  in  the  Prince's  published  letters.' — Dr 
Do7an's  '  Habits  and  yJ/tv/.' 


200 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


I  should  like  to  inflame  the  whole  world  with  my  taste  for 
gardens.  It  seems  to  me  impossible  for  an  evil-doer  to  share  it. 
He  is  not  capable  of  any  taste  at  all.  But  if,  for  this  reason,  I 
rate  highly  the  wild-herborist,  the  deft  and  agile  butterfly-hunter, 
the  minute  scrutinizer  of  shells,  the  stern  lover  of  minerals,  the 
icy  geometrician,  the  three  frenetics  of  poetry,  music  and  painting, 
the  abstract  thinker  and  the  subtle  chemist,  there  is  no  virtue 
which  I  do  not  attribute  to  the  man  who  loves  to  project  and 
execute  gardening. 

Engrossed  in  this  passion,  the  only  one  which  keeps  pace  with 
advancing  years,  a  man  day  by  day  casts  off  such  as  disturb  peace 
of  mind  or  social  order.  When  he  has  passed  the  draw-bridge  at 
the  gate  of  the  city,  that  refuge  of  moral  and  physical  corruption, 
to  work  in  or  enjoy  the  country,  his  heart  laughs  with  Nature,  and 
experiences  the  same  feeling  as  his  lungs  in  absorbing  the  fresh 
air,  which  regenerates  them. 

Fathers,  instil  into  your  children  the  garden-mania.  They  will 
grow  up  the  better  for  it.  Let  other  arts  be  only  studied  to 
heighten  the  beauty  of  the  one  I  advocate.  Engaged  in  planning 
how  to  shade  a  glen,  or  in  contriving  how  to  divert  the  course  of 
a  stream,  one  is  too  busy  ever  to  become  a  dangerous  citizen,  an 
intriguing  general,  or  a  caballing  courtier.  If  such  a  man  had 
designs  to  write  against  the  laws,  to  lay  his  grievances  before  the 
ministry  of  war,  to  overthrow  a  superior,  or  hatch  plots  at  court, 
he  would  arrive  too  late,  for  his  head  would  be  full  of  his  Judaea 
trees,  or  his  flower-borders,  or  with  the  ordering  of  his  grove  of 
plane-trees.  .  .  . 

Let  not  the  mason's  art  come  in  awkwardly  to  overload  the 
Earth,  under  pretence  of  supporting  it :  let  not  their  lime  burn  up 
the  enamel  of  the  meadows — let  not  their  cement  make  the  daisy, 
the  violet  and  the  pansy  lie  low,  let  not  their  feet  soil  the  bed  of 
the  Nymphs.  I  love  to  see  them  sport  with  young  Sylvan  boys, 
for  whom  they  begin  to  have  a  budding  passion,  as  yet  un- 
conscious. Steps  are  alarming.  Gentle  slopes  are  required  for 
their  sports. 

Let  all  trades  be    banished  from   gardens.     Above   all    no 


PRINCE  DE  LIGNE  201 

scaffolding,  no  trellises,  paintings,  hoops  :  let  the  branches  at 
their  own  will  try  to  find  one  another. 

I  see  no  other  rule  for  bridges,  than  not  to  make  two  alike. 
We  can  give  ourselves  up  to  all  the  extravagances  of  our  imagina- 
tion. Happily  architecture  did  not  take  possession  of  these  at  the 
time  it  usurped  gardens  ;  if  however,  a  highly  decorated  garden 
scene  neighbour  to  some  august  temple,  required  an  elaborate 
bridge,  without  copying  that  of  Czarskozelo^  or  Wilton,  a  colonnade 
may  be  permitted.  With  that  exception,  the  more  fantastic  they 
are,  the  more  pleasure  they  will  give  :  let  them  be  high  enough  not 
to  impede  navigation,  but  not  arched  enough  to  cause  one  to  slip 
when  crossing.  Taste,  or  rather  the  situation,  will  decide  if  they 
should  be  partially  concealed,  or  entirely  exposed. 

I  detest  sketches  of  great  things.  There  must  be  no  failure 
when  one  takes  them  in  hand.  No  Ruins  of  Palmyra  in  the 
taste  of  General  Conway.  Their  whiteness,  their  low  columns, 
are  a  bad  example :  their  vaults,  too  well  kept,  are  ridiculous. 
Ruins  ought  to  offer  an  idea  of  things  deserving  respect,  which 
have  passed,  and  of  celebrated  people  who  inhabited  them ;  but 
when  we  see  the  Greek  of  many  Englishmen  and  the  Gothic  of 
Mr  Walpole,  one  is  tempted  to  think  the  delirium  of  a  night- 
mare has  presided  over  their  work.  I  like  his  '  Castle  of  Otranto,' 
as  much  as  that  on  the  Thames,  which  is  as  mad,  and  not  more 
lively. 

Temples  ought  to  inspire  pleasure,  or  recall  that  secret  terror, 

^  The  Garden  of  Zarskojeselo  or  Tzarsco-Celo  (Imperial  Spot)  mentioned  by 
de  Ligne  was  laid  out  by  Catherine  II.  of  Russia  about  176S.  She  acquired 
the  English  taste  in  gardening  from  reading  the  "'  Hausvater '  by  Count 
Munchhausen.  Her  own  architect  and  gardener  being  unable  to  satisfy  her 
orders  '  to  follow  Nature  '  she  sent  to  England  for  a  landscape  gardener  in  the 
person  of  John  Busch  of  Hackney.  In  1772  he  commenced  his  work  at 
Pulkova,  about  five  miles  from  Tzarsco-Celo,  which,  visited  by  Catherine  in 

1774  completely  satisfied  her,  with  its  winding,  shady,  gravel  walks  and  fine 
lawn.      'This  is  what  I  have  long  wished  to  have,'  she  exclaimed.      From 

1775  till  1789  Busch  worked  in  the  Tzarsco-Celo  gardens,  and  was  succeeded 
by  his  son  Joseph  Busch.  The  Emperor  Paul,  her  successor,  preferred  straight 
walks  and  clipped  trees,  and  Alexander  patronised  both  styles. — {Loudon.) 


202  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

which  one  felt  of  old  on  entering  them.  But  what  is  the  sensation 
when  one  sees  one  above  the  other,  spoiling  by  a  templo-mania, 
those  which  like  the  temple  of  friendship,  would  deserve  our 
commendation  ?  My  Lord  Temple  has  been  too  much  led 
astray  by  his  name.^  I  should  prize  the  house  of  Lord  Batita  {sic) 
near  Bristol,  but  it  has  only  the  water  which  falls  from  the  sky. 
In  vain  are  Chinese  bridges  often  thrown  across  hollows,  to  make 
believe  there  is  something  beneath.  We  are  not  long  duped, 
and  what  I  saw  at  Lord  Mansfield's,  from  the  windows  of  his 
house,  only  shews  the  sorry  privations  of  several  Gardens  in 
England. 

This  would  be  lessened,  if  they  had  not  the  rage  for  separating 
themselves  from  the  Thames.  They  do  not  know  how  to  profit 
by  it.  The  Duke  of  Marlborough  makes  up  for  it  by  the  river 
which  he  brought  into  his  park,  which  increases  in  breadth  and 
swiftness  and  falls  with  much  noise.  I  do  not  forgive  Lord 
Pembroke  for  making  his  flow  like  a  canal. — Coup  ffceil  sur  les 
Jardins. 


\ 


1 


MARQUIS         Was  largely  instrumental  in  introducing  the  '  English  '  Style  of  Gardening 
DE  into  France  at  Ins  Park  of  Ermenonville,  where  he  was  assisted  by  J.  M.  Morel 

c  c  ('  ^^^  Kent  of  France '  and  author  Oj  the  '  Th^orie  des  Jardins ')  and  the  Latid- 
\  7j5"  '•  scape-painter,  G.  F.  Meyer.  Rousseau,  his  guest,  died  here  and  was  first  buried 
on  the  '  He  des  Peupliers, '  before  he  was  removed  to  the  Pantheon  {see  the  descrip- 
tion by  Arthur  Young).  Author  of  ^  De  la  Composition  des  Paysages,  ou  des 
Moyens  dembellir  la  Nature  pres  des  habitations,  en  y  joignant  t utile  h  Vagre- 
able.  — Paris  1777,  \to,  translated  by  Daniel  Malthus. 

\  AUCH  has  of  late  been  said  upon  the  subject  of  Gardens  ;  but 
•^"^  in  the  more  common  sense  of  the  word,  by  which  we  under- 
stand a  piece  of  ground  enclosed  and  laid  out  in  straight  lines, 
or  in  some  form  or  other,  this  by  no  means  defines  the  species 
of  garden  which  I  have  undertaken  to  describe ;  the  first  express 
condition  of  which  is  that  neither  garden  nor  enclosure  should 

^  Alluding  to   Lord   Temple's   Gardens  at   Stowe,   which   swarmed   with 
Temples  to  every  conceivable  Deity  and  Virtue. 


GEORGE  MASON  203 

appear ;  for  stiff  forms  can  only  produce  the  effect  of  a  mathe- 
matical plan,  cut  paper  or  an  ornament  for  a  dessert,  and  can  never 
produce  the  picturesque  effect  of  a  landscape.  .  .  . 

Symmetry  certainly  owed  its  origin  to  vanity  and  indolence  ;  to 
vanity,  in  attempting  to  force  the  situation  to  accord  with  the 
building,  instead  of  making  the  building  suit  the  situation  ;  to 
idleness,  because  it  was  more  easy  to  work  upon  paper,  which  will 
allow  of  any  form,  than  to  examine  and  combine  the  real  objects, 
which  can  only  take  the  forms  that  suit  them. — The  Composition 
of  Landscape. 

\\  ILTON",  as  well  as  Sidney,  lived  at  a  time  when  rural  graces  GEORGE 
-^"^     were  but  little  understood  ;  yet  his  model  of  Eden  remains  d^^^^ligoS) 
unimpeachable.     Claremont  could  not  be  freed  from  the  fetters 
of  regularity,  when  celebrated  by  Garth  ;  nevertheless  regularity 
is  concealed  without  violating  truth  in  the  description. 

'  'Tis  he  can  paint  in  verse  those  rising  hills, 
Those  gentle  vallies,  and  their  silver  rills ; 
Close  groves  and  opening  glades  with  verdure  spread  ; 
Flowers  sighing  sweets,  and  shrubs  that  balsam  bleed.' 

Garth's  Claremont. 

The  elegance  and  propriety  of  rural  designs  seems  greatly  to 
depend  on  a  nice  distinction  between  contrast  and  incongruity.  .  .  . 
At  Paine's  Hill  the  banks  of  the  lake  are  admirably  contrasted 
by  the  wild  rusticity  on  the  other  side  of  the  arch  :  but  I  could 
wish  the  separation  more  perfect.  The  species  of  design  should 
generally  conform  to  the  nature  of  the  place,  but  even  this  rule 
may  sometimes  be  neglected  without  any  visible  incongruity.  .  .  . 

There  is  an  art  in  the  management  of  grounds  little  under- 
stood, and  possibly  the  most  difficult  to  be  accomphshed ;  'tis 
analogous  to  what  is  called  keeping  under  in  painting :  by  some 
parts  being  seemingly  neglected,  the  succeeding  are  more  strik- 
ingly beautiful.  The  effect  of  this  management  is  very  apparent 
at  the  Leasowes.  .  .  . 

From   a   general   view   of  our   present   gardens   in    populous 


204  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

districts,  a  stranger  might  imagine  they  were  calculated  for  a 
race  of  Lilliputians.  Are  their  shade,  their  ponds,  or  their 
isla?tds  proportionable  to  common  mortals  ?  Their  winding 
walks — such  as  no  human  foot-step  (except  a  reeling  drunkard's) 
could  have  traced.^  Yet  these,  in  the  eyes  of  the  proprietors, 
are  perfect  models  of  Chinese.  .  .  . 

Oatlands,  Windsor-Park,  and  Wentworth  Castle  will  show 
you  how  rivers  can  be  imitated  :  Peresfield  {sic)  may  bring  to 
your  imagination  some  romantic  paradise  of  Semiramis.  Paine's- 
HiLL  has  every  mark  of  creative  genius,  and  Hagley  of  correctest 
fancy ;  but  the  most  intimate  alliajice  with  fiature  was  formed  by 
Shenstone.  .  .  .  Nature's  favourite  haunts  are  the  school  of 
gardening — she  appears  in  sublimest  rudeness  on  the  forest  of 
Macclesfield,  and  the  Welch  mountains — her  milder  train  of 
graces  disperse  themselves  along  the  banks  of  Thames — her 
majestic  retirements  are  situated  on  the  streams  of  Dove  and 
Derwent,  in  the  vale  of  Hackness,  and  the  groves  of  Eastwell 
— she  assumes  on  Richmond-Brow  a  gayer  and  a  softer  dignity, 
making  every  sprightly  work  of  art  serve  for  her  embellishment. — 
An  Essay  on  Design  in  Gardening,  1768  {greatly  enlarged,  1795 — 
two  Appendices,  1798). 

GIBBON  \  A/E  now  enjoy  the  genial  influence  of  the  Climate  and  the 
(I737-I794)-  V  V  Season;  and  no  station  was  ever  more  calculated  to 
enjoy  them  than  Deyverdun's  house  and  garden,  which  are  now 
become  my  own.  You  will  not  expect  that  the  pen  should 
describe,  what  the  pencil  would  imperfectly  delineate.  A  few 
circumstances  may,  however,  be  mentioned.  My  library  is 
about  the  same  size  with  that  in  Bentinck  Street,  with  this 
difference,  however,  that  instead  of  looking  on  a  paved  court 

1  This  looks  like  the  fotis  el  origo  of  the  mot  usually  attributed  to  a 
Frenchman,  of  intoxicating  your  gardener  and  following  his  steps,  to  design  a 
modern  garden.  France  was  '  translating '  our  garden-ideas  pretty  freely 
just  then — many  into  verse,  more  into  prose,  most  into  execution — but  often 
without  acknowledgment. 


GIBBON  205 

twelve  feet  square,  I  command  a  boundless  prospect  of  vale, 
mountain,  and  water  from  my  three  windows.  ...  A  Terrace, 
one  hundred  yards  long,  extends  beyond  the  front  of  the  House, 
and  leads  to  a  close  impenetrable  shrubbery ;  and  from  thence 
the  circuit  of  a  long  and  various  walk  carries  me  round  a 
meadow  and  vineyard.  The  intervals  afford  abundant  supply 
of  fruit,  and  every  sort  of  vegetables ;  and  if  you  add,  that  this 
villa  (which  has  been  much  ornamented  by  my  friend)  touches 
the  best  and  most  sociable  part  of  the  town,  you  will  agree  with 
me,  that  few  persons,  either  princes  or  philosophers,  enjoy  a 
more  desirable  residence. 

Deyverdun,  who  is  proud  of  his  own  works,  often  walks  me 
round,  pointing  out  with  knowledge  and  enthusiasm,  the  beauties 
that  change  with  every  step  and  with  every  variation  of  light.  I 
share,  or  at  least  I  sympathise,  with  his  pleasure  —  he  appears 
content  with  my  progress,  and  has  already  told  several  people, 
that  he  does  not  despair  of  making  me  a  Gardener."  .  .  .  {To  his 
step-mother — Lausanne^  1784). 

.  .  .  The  glories  of  the  landskip  I  have  always  enjoyed;  but 
Deyverdun  has  almost  given  me  a  taste  for  minute  observation, 
and  I  can  dwell  with  pleasure  on  the  shape  and  colour  of  the 
leaves,  the  various  hues  of  the  blossoms,  and  successive  progress 
of  vegetation.  These  pleasures  are  not  without  cares ;  and  there 
is  a  white  Acacia  just  under  the  windows  of  my  library,  which 
in  my  opinion  was  too  closely  pruned  last  Autumn,  and  whose 
recovery  is  the  daily  subject  of  anxiety  and  conversation  !  My 
romantic  wishes  led  sometimes  to  an  idea  which  was  impractic- 
able in  England,  the  possession  of  an  house  and  garden,  which 
should  unite  the  society  of  town  with  the  beauties  and  freedom 
of  the  country.  That  idea  is  now  reaUsed  in  a  degree  of  per- 
fection to  which  I  never  aspired,  and  if  I  could  convey  in  words 
a  just  picture  of  my  library,  apartments,  terrace,  wilderness,  vine- 
yard, with  the  prospect  of  land  and  water,  terminated  by  the 
mountains ;  and  this  position  at  the  gate  of  a  populous  and 
lively  town  where  I  have  some  friends  and  many  acquaintance, 
you  would  envy  or  rather  applaud  the  singular  propriety  of  my 


2o6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

choice. — {To  his  siep-moiher,  May  2,rd,  1786.)  Private  Letters  of 
Edward  Gibbon^  1 753-1794  {edited  by  Rowland  E.  Prothero). 

L'ABBE  Called  "■  LAbhi   Virgile'  by  Rivarol,  frotn  his  rendering  of  the  Georgics  in 

DELILLE  1769;  translated  ^  Paradise  Lost, ^  in  London,  and  like  iMilton  lost  his  sight. 
(I73°-I°'3)'    Author  of '  Vhomme  des  Champs  '  and  '  La  Conversation.'' 

DAPIN  has  sung  Gardens  of  the  regular  style,  and  the 
^^  monotony  attached  to  the  great  regularity  has  passed 
from  the  subject  into  the  poem.  The  imagination,  naturally  a 
friend  to  liberty,  here  walks  painfully  in  the  involved  design  of 
a  parterre,  anon  expires  at  the  end  of  a  long  straight  alley.  Every- 
where it  regrets  the  slightly  disordered  beauty  and  the  piquant 
irregularity  of  nature.  Finally  he  has  only  treated  the  mechanical 
part  of  the  art  of  gardening ;  he  has  entirely  forgotten  the  most 
essential  part,  which  seeks  in  our  sensations,  in  our  feeling,  the 
source  of  the  pleasures,  which  country  scenes  and  the  beauties 
of  nature  perfected  by  art  occasion  us.  In  a  word,  his  gardens 
are  those  of  the  architect ;  the  others  are  those  of  the  philosopher, 
the  painter,  the  poet. 

This  style  has  gained  much  in  the  last  few  years ;  and  if  this 
is  but  the  effect  of  fashion,  we  ought  to  be  grateful  to  it.  The 
art  of  gardens,  which  might  be  called  the  luxury  of  agriculture, 
appears  to  me  one  of  the  most  suitable,  I  might  almost  say,  one 
of  the  most  virtuous  amusements  of  rich  people.  .  .  . 

When  Rapin  wrote  a  Latin  poem  on  regular  gardens,  it  was 
easy  for  him  to  present  in  the  four  Cantos  which  compose  it — 
(i)  the  flowers,  (2)  orchards,  (3)  waters,  (4)  forests.  But  in 
picturesque  and  free  gardens,  in  which  all  these  objects  are 
often  mixed  together,  where  it  has  been  necessary  to  go  back  to 
the  philosophic  causes  of  the  pleasure,  which  the  sight  of  Nature, 
embellished  and  not  tortured  by  art,  gives  us ;  from  which  it  has 
been  necessary  to  exclude  straight  lines,  symmetrical  distributions, 
and  formal  beauties,  another  plan  was  necessary.  The  author  has 
thus  shown  in  the  first  Canto  the  art  of  borrowing  from  nature 


% 


L'ABBE  DELILLE  207 

and  of  happily  employing  the  rich  materials  of  the  picturesque 
decoration  of  irregular  gardens,  of  changing  landscapes  into 
pictures ;  with  what  care  we  must  choose  the  locality  and  the 
site,  profit  by  its  advantages,  correct  its  inconveniences ;  what 
in  nature  lends  itself  to,  or  resists  imitation ;  finally  the  distinc- 
tion between  different  kinds  of  gardens  and  landscapes,  free 
gardens  and  regular  gardens.  .  .  . 

The  second  Canto  concerns  itself  entirely  with  plantations, 
the  most  important  part  of  the  landscape,  and  the  beauty  of 
prospective  and  distant  views,  which  depend  upon  the  artifice  of 
plantations.  The  third  contains  objects,  each  of  which  would 
not  sufliice  to  fill  a  canto,  without  falling  into  sterility  or 
-monotonousness ;  such  are  lawns,  flowers,  rocks  and  waters. 

The  fourth  Canto  contains  the  distribution  of  different  scenes, 
majestic  or  touching,  voluptuous  or  severe,  melancholy  or  smil- 
ing, the  artifice  with  which  the  paths  leading  to  them  ought  to  be 
traced,  finally  what  the  other  arts,  and  particularly  agriculture 
and  sculpture  can  add  to  the  art  of  landscape. — Preface  to 
'■  Les  Jar  dins, ^  20th  editio?i,  1801. 

Moins  pompeux  qu'elegant,  moins  decore  que  beau, 
Un  jardin  a  mes  yeux  est  un  vaste  tableau. 

Les  arbres,  les  rochers,  et  les  eaux  et  les  fleurs 
Ce  sont  la  vos  pinceaux,  vos  toiles,  vos  couleurs. 

C'est  peu  de  charmer  I'ceil,  il  faut  parler  au  coeur 

Partout  entremeles  d'arbres  pyramidaux, 
Marbres,  bronzes,  palais,  urnes,  temples,  tombeaux, 
Parlent  de  Rome  antique  ;  et  la  vue  abusee 
Croit,  au  lieu  d'un  jardin,  parcourir  un  musee. 

Loin  done  ces  froids  jardins,  colifichet  champetre, 
Insipides  reduits,  dont  I'insipide  maitre 
Vous  vante,  en  s'admirant,  ses  arbres  bien  peignes, 
Ses  petits  salons  verds  bien  tondus,  bien  soignes, 


2o8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Son  plan  bien  symmetrique,  ou,  jamais  solitaire, 
Chaque  allee  h.  sa  soeur,  chaque  berceau  son  frere ; 
Ses  sentiers  ennuyes  d'ob^ir  au  cordeau, 
Son  parterre  brode,  son  maigre  filet  d'eau, 
Ses  buis  tournes  en  globe,  en  pyramide,  en  vase, 
Et  ses  petits  bergers  bien  guindes  sur  leur  base. 
Laissez-le  s'applaudir  de  son  luxe  mesquin  ; 
Je  prefere  un  champ  brut  h.  son  triste  jardin. — 

Les  Jardins. 

— fJSJSjV* — 

ARTHUR  '  T/ie  Columella  of  the  North,'  1768,  published  '  A  Six  weeks'  Tour  through 
YOUNG  the  Southern  Counties  of  England  and  Wales' ;  1771,  ^  A  Six  months'  Tour 
(1741-1820).  (/i,.gjioh  the  North  of  England' ;  '  The  Farmer's  Tour  through  the  East  of 
Ettgland' ;  1780,  '  Tour  in  Ireland' ;  1792-4,  'Travels  in  France  during 
1 787- 1 790';  ^  The  Farrners  Letters  to  the  People  of  England';  'The 
Farmer's  Guide'  'Rural  Economy,'  and  'A  Course  of  Experimental  Agri- 
ctilture ' ;  Agricultural  Surveys,  and  many  other  works. 

His  name  is  a  'household  word'  in  France,  while  in  England  confined  to 
agricultural  and  literary  circles. 

Chantilly.  T  HAD  been  so  accustomed  to  the  imitation  in  water  of  the 
-^  waving  and  irregular  lines  of  nature  that  I  came  to  Chantilly 
prepossessed  against  the  idea  of  a  canal,  but  the  view  of  one 
here  is  striking  and  had  the  effect  which  magnificent  scenes 
impress.  It  arises  from  extent  and  from  the  right  lines  of  the 
water  uniting  with  the  regularity  of  the  objects  in  view.  It  is 
Lord  Kames,  I  think,  who  says  the  part  of  the  garden  contiguous 
to  the  house  should  partake  of  the  regularity  of  the  building ; 
with  much  magnificence  about  a  place  this  is  unavoidable.  The 
effect  here,  however,  is  lessened  by  the  parterre  before  the  Castle, 
in  which  the  division  and  the  diminutive  jets  d'eau  are  not  of  a 
size  to  correspond  with  the  magnificence  of  the  canal.  The 
hmneau  contains  an  imitation  of  an  English  garden  ;  the  taste  is 
but  just  introduced  into  France,  so  that  it  will  not  stand  a  critical 
examination.  The  most  English  idea  I  saw  is  the  lawn  in  front 
of  the  stables  ;  it  is  large,  of  a  good  verdure  and  well  kept ;  prov- 
ing clearly  that  they  may  have  as  fine  lawns  in  the  North  of 


ARTHUR  YOUNG  209 

France  as  in  England.     The  labyrinth  is  the  only  complete  one 
I  have  seen,  and  I  have  no  incHnation  to  see  another :  it  is  in  ! 

gardening  what  a  rebus  is  in  poetry.     In  the  Sylvae  are  many  ' 

very  fine  and  scarce  plants. — May  25//^,  1787.  I 

As  to  the  garden,  it  is  beneath  all  contempt,  except  as  an  St  Martino. 
object  to  make  a  man  stare  at  the  efforts  to  which  folly  can  arrive  : 
in  the  space  of  an  acre,  there  are  hills  of  genuine  earth,  mountains 
of  pasteboard,  rocks  of  canvas  :  abbes,  cows,  sheep  and  shep- 
herdesses in  lead  ;  monkeys  and  peasants,  asses  and  altars,  in 
stone.     Fine  ladies  and  blacksmiths,  parrots  and  lovers,  in  wood.  1 

Windmills   and   cottages,  shops  and  villages,  nothing   excluded  ' 

except  nature.  .  .  . 

Give  a  man  the  secure  possession  of  a  bleak  rock,  and  he  will 
turn  it  into  a  garden ;  give  him  a  nine  years'  lease  of  a  garden, 
and  he  will  convert  it  into  a  desert. 

I 

We  passed  by  Chantilly  to  Morefountain,  the  country  seat  of  Morefontaine. 

Mons.  de  Morefountain,  Prevost  des  Marchands  of  Paris  ;   the  1 

place  has  been  mentioned  as  decorated  in  the  English  style.     It  ; 

consists  of  two  scenes  ;   one   a   garden  of  winding  walks,   and  1 

ornamented  with  a  profusion  of  temples,  benches,  grottos,  columns,  I 

ruins,  and  I  know  not  what :  I  hope  the  French  who  have  not  j 

been  in  England  do  not  consider  this  as  the  English  taste.     It  is  j 

in  fact  as  remote  from  it  as  the  most  regular  style  of  the  last  age.  1 

The  water  view  is  fine.     There  is  a  gaiety  and  cheerfulness  in  it 

that   contrast   well    with   the  brown    and    unpleasing   hills    that  ' 

surround   it,  and  which  partake  of  the  waste  character  of  the  ' 

worst  part  of  the  surrounding  country.     Much  has  been  done 
here  ;  and  it  wants  but  few  additions  to  be  as  perfect  as  the  ground  ; 

admits.  \ 

\ 
Reach  Erraenonville,  through  another  part   of  the  Prince  of  Ermenonrille.  ; 

Conde's  forest,  which  join  the  ornamented  grounds  of  the  Marquis 
Girardon.i     This   place,  after   the  residence   and   death  of  the 

*  Marquis  de  Girardin.  friend  of  Rousseau,  died  1808.  j 

O 


2IO  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

persecuted,  but  immortal  Rousseau,  whose  tomb  every  one  knows 
is  here,  became  so  famous  as  to  be  resorted  to  very  generally. 
It  has  been  described,  and  plates  published  of  the  chief  views ;  to 
enter  into  a  particular  description  would  therefore  be  tiresome,  I 
shall  only  make  one  or  two  observations,  which  I  do  not  recollect 
having  been  touched  on  by  others.  It  consists  of  three  distinct 
water  scenes  ;  or  of  two  lakes  and  a  river.  We  were  first  shown 
that  which  is  so  famous  for  the  small  Isle  of  Poplars,  in  which 
reposes  all  that  was  mortal  of  that  extraordinary  and  inimitable 
writer.  This  scene  is  as  well  imagined,  and  as  well  executed  as 
could  be  wished.  The  water  is  between  forty  and  fifty  acres ; 
hills  rise  from  it  on  both  sides,  and  it  is  sufficiently  closed  in  by 
tall  wood  at  both  ends,  to  render  it  sequestered.  The  remains  of 
departed  genius  stamp  a  melancholy  idea,  from  which  decoration 
would  depart  too  much,  and  accordingly  there  is  little.  We 
viewed  the  scene  in  a  still  evening.  The  declining  sun  threw  a 
lengthened  shade  on  the  lake,  and  silence  seemed  to  repose  on 
its  unruffled  bosom;  as  some  poet  says,  I  forget  who.  The 
worthies  to  whom  the  temple  of  philosophers  is  dedicated,  and 
whose  names  are  marked  on  the  columns,  are  Newton,  Lucem. — 
Descartes,  Nil  in  rebus  inane. — Voltaire,  Ridiculum. — Rousseau, 
Naturam. — And  on  another  unfinished  column,  Quis  hoc  perficiet  ? 
The  other  lake  is  larger ;  it  nearly  fills  the  bottom  of  the  vale, 
around  which  are  some  rough,  rocky,  wild  and  barren  sand  hills ; 
either  broken  or  spread  with  heath ;  in  some  places  wooded,  and 
in  others  scattered  thinly  with  junipers.  The  character  of  the 
scene  is  that  of  wild  and  undecorated  nature,  in  which  the  hand 
of  art  was  meant  to  be  concealed  as  much  as  was  consistent  with 
ease  of  access.  The  last  scene  is  that  of  a  river,  which  is  made 
to  wind  through  a  lawn,  receding  from  the  house,  and  broken  by 
wood  :  the  ground  is  not  fortunate ;  it  is  too  dead  a  flat,  and  no 
where  viewed  to  much  advantage. 

Trianon.  To  Trianon,  to  view  the  Queen's  Jardin  Anglais.  I  had  a 
letter  to  Mons.  Richard,  which  procured  admittance.  It  contains 
about  I  GO  acres,  disposed  in  the  taste  of  what  we  read  of  in  books 


ARTHUR  YOUNG  211 

of  Chinese  gardening,  whence  it  is  supposed  the  English  style 
was  taken.  There  is  more  of  Sir  William  Chambers  here  than 
of  Mr  Brown,  more  effort  than  nature — and  more  expence  than 
taste.  It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  anything  that  art  can  introduce 
in  a  garden  that  is  not  here ;  woods,  rocks,  lawns,  lakes,  rivers, 
islands,  cascades,  grottos,  walks,  temples,  and  even  villages. 
There  are  parts  of  the  design  very  pretty,  and  well  executed. 
The  only  fault  is  too  much  crouding ;  which  has  led  to  another, 
that  of  cutting  the  lawn  by  too  many  gravel  walks,  an  error  to  be 
seen  in  almost  every  garden  I  have  met  with  in  France.  But 
the  glory  of  La  Petite  Trianon  is  the  exotic  trees  and  shrubs. 
The  world  has  been  successfully  rifled  to  decorate  it.  Here 
are  curious  and  beautiful  ones  to  please  the  eye  of  ignorance ; 
and  to  exercise  the  memory  of  science.  Of  the  buildings  the 
temple  of  Love  is  truly  elegant. 

Pass  Rosoy  to  Maupertuis,  through  a  country  chearfuUy  Maupertuis. 
diversified  by  woods,  and  scattered  with  villages ;  and  single 
farms  spread  every  where  as  about  Nangis.  Maupertuis  seems 
to  have  been  the  creation  of  the  marquis  de  Montesquiou,  who 
has  here  a  very  fine  chateau  of  his  own  building ;  an  extensive 
English  garden,  made  by  the  Count  d'Artois'  gardener,^  with 
the  town,  has  all  been  of  his  own  forming.  I  viewed  the  garden 
with  pleasure ;  a  proper  advantage  has  been  taken  of  a  good 
command  of  a  stream,  and  many  fine  springs  which  rise  in  the 
grounds  ;  they  are  well  conducted,  and  the  whole  executed  with 
taste.  In  the  kitchen  garden,  which  is  on  the  slope  of  a  hill, 
one  of  these  springs  has  been  applied  to  excellent  use,  it  is  made 
to  wind  in  many  doubles  through  the  whole  on  a  paved  bed, 
forming  numerous  basons  for  watering  the  garden,  and  might 
with  little  trouble,  be  conducted  alternately  to  every  bed  as  in 
Spain.  This  is  a  bit  of  real  utility  to  all  those  who  form  gardens 
on  the  sides  of  hills ;  for  watering  with  pots  and  pails  is  a  miser- 
able, as  well  as  expensive  succedaneum  to  this  infinitely  more 

^  Thomas  Blaikie,  a  Scotsman,  who  laid  out  many  of  the  best  gardens  in 
France  before  and  after  the  Revolution  (see  Loudon,  p.  88). 


212  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

effective  method.  There  is  but  one  fault  in  this  garden,  which 
is  its  being  placed  near  the  house,  where  there  should  be  nothing 
but  lawn  and  scattered  trees  when  viewed  from  the  Chateau. — 
Travels  in  France^  1787-9. 

SIR  1780,  Translated  Pansamas:  his  variotis  works  on  the  Picturesque,  Beauty 

U  VEDALE  and  Latidscape  were  collected  in  07ie  vohivie  by  Sir  T.  D.  Lauder  in  1842. 
PRICE 
1747-1829).      T  MAY  perhaps  have  spoken  more  feelmgly  on  this  subject,  from 

*■  having  done  myself  what  I  so  condemn  in  others — destroyed 
an  old-fashioned  garden.  .  .  . 

I  remember,  that  even  this  garden  (so  infinitely  inferior  to  those 
of  Italy)  had  an  air  of  decoration,  and  of  gaiety,  arising  from  that 
decoration — un  air  pare — a  distinction  from  mere  unimbellished 
nature,  which,  whatever  the  advocates  for  extreme  simplicity  may 
allege,  is  surely  essential  to  an  ornamented  garden  :  all  the  beauties 
of  undulating  ground,  of  shrubs,  and  of  verdure  are  to  be  found 
in  places  where  no  art  has  ever  been  employed,  and  consequently 
cannot  bestow  a  distinction  which  they  do  not  possess.  .  .  . 

Among  other  circumstances,  I  have  a  strong  recollection  of  a 
raised  terrace,  seen  sideways  from  that  in  front  of  the  house,  in 
the  middle  of  which  was  a  flight  of  steps  with  its  iron  rails,  and 
an  arched  recess  below  it  backed  by  a  wood :  these  steps  con- 
ducted you  from  the  terrace  to  a  lower  compartment,  where  there 
was  a  mixture  of  fruit-trees,  shrubs,  and  statues,  disposed,  indeed, 
with  some  formality,  yet  which  formed  a  dressed  foreground  to 
the  woods ;  and  with  a  little  alteration  would  have  richly  and 
happily  blended  with  the  general  landscape.  .  .  . 

I  regret  extremely,  not  only  the  compartment  I  have  just 
mentioned,  but  another  garden  immediately  beyond  it :  and  I 
cannot  forget  the  sort  of  curiosity  and  surprise  that  was  excited 
after  a  short  absence,  even  in  me  to  whom  it  was  familiar,  by  the 
simple  and  common  circumstance  of  a  door  that  led  from  the 
first  compartment  to  the  second,  and  the  pleasure  I  always 
experienced  on  entering  that  inner  and  more  secluded  garden. 
There  was  nothing,  however,  in  the  garden  itself  to  excite  any 


I 


Wir, 


GOETHE  213 

extraordinary  sensations;  the  middle  part  was  merely  planted 
with  the  lesser  fruits,  and  dwarf  trees,  but  on  the  opening  of  the 
door,  the  lofty  trees  of  a  fine  grove  appeared  immediately  over 
the  opposite  wall;  the  trees  are  still  there,  they  are  more  dis- 
tinctly and  openly  seen,  but  the  striking  impression  is  gone. — 
Essay  on  the  Picturesque,   1794. 

IN  the  public  garden  at  Palermo,  adjoining  the  road,  I  peacefully  GOETHE 
passed  the  most  pleasurable  hours.  It  is  the  most  marvellous  (1749-1832). 
spot  in  the  world.  Though  laid  out  in  regular  order,  it  is  like 
fairy-land  ;  planted  no  great  time  since,  it  sets  us  down  amidst 
antiquity.  Green  parterres  embrace  foreign  shrubs,  lemon-espaliers 
arch  themselves  into  comely  leaf-shaded  walks,  lofty  walls  of 
oleander,  gemmed  with  a  thousand  red  clove-like  blossoms,  arrest 
the  eye.  Foreign  trees  entirely  unknown  to  me,  still  leafless, 
probably  from  warmer  climes,  spread  forth  curious  branches.  A 
bench  raised  behind  the  level  ground  brings  into  view  vegetation 
so  wonderfully  interwoven,  and  guides  the  gaze  at  last  to  great 
basins,  wherein  gold  and  silver  fish  dart  fascinatingly  about,  now 
hiding  under  mossy  reeds,  now  assembling  again  in  shoals,  lured 
by  a  bit  of  bread.  Everywhere  upon  the  plants  appears  a  green 
that  we  are  not  used  to  see,  now  yellower,  now  bluer  than  with 
us.  But  that  which  threw  over  the  whole  the  rarest  grace  was  a 
hazy  vapour,  pervading  everything  uniformly  with  so  striking 
effect,  that  objects  but  a  few  steps'  distance  behind  one  another, 
stood  forth  by  a  distinct  shade  of  light  blue  from  each  other,  so 
that  their  own  colour  was  finally  lost,  or  at  least  presented  itself 
to  the  eye  through  a  blue  medium. — Italian  Journey,  {Sicily 
1787).! 

Advantages  of  Dilettantism  in  the  Garden-Art. 

Ideal  in  the  Real. 

Striving  after  form  in  formless  masses. 

^  See  Lewes's  •  Life  of  Goethe,'  for  a  charming  description  of  his  Garden- 
House  at  Weimar. 


214  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Selection. 

Beautiful  composition. 

To  make  a  picture  out  of  reality,  in  short,  first  entrance  into  art. 
A  pure  and  completely  beautiful   surrounding   always   has  a 
beneficial  effect  upon  the  company. 

Harm  of  Dilettantism  in  the  Garden-Art. 

The  real  is  treated  as  a  work  of  Fancy. 

Garden  amateurism  is  pursuing  something  infinite : — 

1.  Because  it  is  not  definite  and  limited  in  idea. 

2.  Because  the  material,  always  accidental,  is  ever  changing  and 
ever  resisting  the  idea. 

Garden-dilettantism  often  allows  the  nobler  arts  to  serve  it 
in  an  unworthy  manner,  and  makes  a  plaything  of  their  solid 
tendency. 

Furthers  sentimental  and  fantastic  Nullity. 

It  dwarfs  the  sublime  in  Nature  and  neutralises  it  by  imitation. 

It  perpetuates  the  reigning  degeneracy  of  the  age  by  its  desire 
to  be  unconditioned  and  lawless  in  Esthetics,  to  give  way  to 
arbitrary  fancy,  by  not  correcting  itself  like  other  arts  and  holding 
itself  in  check. 

The  blending  of  Art  and  Nature. 

Its  preference  for  appearances. — Ferneres  ilber  Kunst. 

— A/\/W'— 
RICHARD       Greek  scholar :  1784-1806,  M.  P.  for  Ludlow;  1814,  Trustee  of  the  British 


Ahiseum,  to  luhich  he  bequeathed  his  collection  of  coins  and  ancient  bronzes,  and 
where  his  bust  is  placed;  1794,  published  '  The  Landscape,^  a  didactic  poem  ; 


PAYNE 
KNIGHT 

V   /  D  4^    united  with  Sir  Uvedale  Price  in  reacting  against  the  extremes  and  exaggera- 

tions of  the  '  Landscape '  School  of  Brown  and  Repton. 

June  26th,  1839. — Delbury.  I  rode  to  Dowton  Castle  on  Monday — a 
gimcrack  Castle  and  bad-house,  built  by  Payne  Knight,  an  epicurean  Philo- 
sopher, who,  after  building  the  Castle  went  and  lived  in  a  lodge  or  cottage 
in  the  park :  there  he  died,  not  without  suspicion  of  having  put  an  end  to 
himself,  which  would  have  been  fully  conformable  to  his  notions.  He  was  a 
sensualist  in  all  ways,  but  a  quiet  and  self-educated  scholar.     His  property  is 


RICHARD  PAYNE  KNIGHT  215 

now  in  Chancery,  because  he  chose  to  make  his  own  will.  The  prospect  from 
the  windows  is  beautiful,  and  the  walk  through  the  wood  overhanging  the 
river  Teme,  surpasses  any  thing  I  have  ever  seen  of  the  kind.  —  The  Greville 
Memoirs. 

POR  this  reason  we  require,  immediately  adjoining  the  dwellings 
^  of  opulence  and  luxury,  that  every  thing  should  assume  its 
character;  and  not  only  be,  but  appear  to  be  dressed  and 
cultivated.  In  such  situations,  neat  gravel  walks,  mown  turf, 
and  flowering  plants  and  shrubs,  trained  and  distributed  by  art, 
are  perfectly  in  character ;  although,  if  the  same  buildings  were 
abandoned,  and  in  ruins,  we  should,  on  the  same  principle  of 
consistency  and  propriety,  require  neglected  paths,  ragged  lanes 
and  wild  uncultivated  thickets ;  which  are,  in  themselves,  more 
pleasing,  both  to  the  eye  and  the  imagination,  but  unfit  accom- 
paniments for  objects,  not  only  originally  produced  by  art,  but 
in  which  art  is  constantly  employed  and  exhibited.  .  .  . 

On  this  account,  I  think  the  avowed  character  of  art  of  the 
Italian  Gardens  preferable,  in  garden  scenery,  to  the  concealed 
one  now  in  fashion ;  which  is,  in  reality,  rather  counterfeited  than 
concealed ;  for  it  appears  in  every  thing ;  but  appears  in  a  dress 
that  does  not  belong  to  it:  at  every  step  we  perceive  its  exertions; 
but  at  the  same  time  perceive  that  it  has  laboured  much  to 
effect  little ;  and  that  while  it  seeks  to  hide  its  character,  it  only 
discovers  it  the  more.  In  the  decorations,  however,  of  ground 
adjoining  a  house,  much  should  depend  upon  the  character  of 
the  house  itself :  if  it  be  neat  and  regular,  neatness  and  regularity 
should  accompany  it ;  but  if  it  be  rugged  and  picturesque,  and 
situated  amidst  scenery  of  the  same  character,  art  should 
approach  it  with  more  caution :  for  though  it  be  in  itself  an 
avowed  work  of  art,  yet  the  influence  of  time,  with  the  accom- 
paniments of  trees  and  creepers  may  have  given  it  a  character 
of  nature,  which  ought  to  be  as  little  disturbed  as  is  consistent 
with  comfort :  for,  after  all,  the  character  of  nature,  is  more 
pleasing  than  any  that  can  be  given  by  art.  At  all  events,  the 
character  of  dress  and  artificial  neatness  ought  never  to  be 
suffered  to  encroach  upon  the  park  or  the  forest ;  where  it  is  as 
contrary  to  propriety  as  it  is  to  beauty;   and  where  its  intro- 


2i6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

duction  by  our  modern  landscape  gardeners  affords  one  of  the 
most  memorable  instances  of  any  recorded  in  the  history  of 
fashions,  of  the  extravagant  absurdity,  with  which  an  insatiate 
passion  for  novelty  may  infect  a  whole  nation. 

By  the  old  system  of  laying  out  ground,  indeed,  this  incongruity 
was  in  a  great  degree  obviated  :  for  the  house  being  surrounded 
by  gardens,  as  uniform  as  itself,  and  only  seen  through  vistas  at 
right  angles,  every  visible  accompaniment  was  in  union  with  it ; 
and  the  systematic  regularity  of  the  whole  discernible  from  every 
point  of  sight :  but  when,  according  to  the  modern  fashion,  all 
around  is  levelled  and  thrown  open ;  and  the  poor  square  edifice 
exposed  alone,  or  with  the  accompaniment  only  of  its  regular 
wings  and  portico,  amidst  spacious  lawns  interspersed  with  ir- 
regular clumps  or  masses  of  wood,  and  sheets  of  water,  I  do 
not  know  a  more  melancholy  object ;  it  neither  associates  nor 
harmonizes  with  anything;  and  as  the  beauties  of  symmetry, 
which  might  appear  in  its  regularity,  are  only  perceived  when  that 
regularity  is  seen ;  that  is,  when  the  building  is  shown  from  a 
point  of  sight  at  right  angles  with  one  of  the  fronts,  the  man  of 
taste  takes  care  that  it  never  shall  be  so  shown ;  but  that  every 
view  of  it  shall  be  oblique,  from  the  tangent  of  a  curve  in  a 
serpentine  walk;  from  whence  it  appears  neither  quite  regular, 
nor  quite  irregular,  but  with  that  sort  of  lame  and  defective 
uniformity  which  we  see  in  an  animal  that  has  lost  a  limb. 

The  view  from  one  of  these  solitary  mansions  is  still  more 
dismal  than  that  towards  it :  for,  at  the  hall  door,  a  boundless 
extent  of  open  lawn  presents  itself  in  every  direction,  which  the 
despairing  visitant  must  traverse  before  he  can  get  into  any  change 
of  scenery  :  and  to  complete  the  congruity  of  the  whole,  the 
clumps  with  which  this  monotonous  tract  is  dotted,  and  the 
winding  stream  or  canal,  by  which  it  is  intersected,  are  made  as 
neat  and  determinate  as  ever  the  ancient  gardens  were ;  which 
having  been  professedly  a  work  of  art,  and  an  appendage  to  the 
house,  the  neatness  and  even  formality  of  architecture  were  its 
proper  characteristics ;  and  when  its  terraces  and  borders  were 


WILLIAM  WINDHAM                   217  i 

1 

intermixed  with  vines  and  flowers  (as  I  have  seen  them  in  Italian  ' 

villas  and  in  some  old  English  gardens  in  the  same  style)  the  i 

mixture  of  splendor,  richness   and   neatness   was  beautiful  and  j 

pleasing  in  the  highest  degree.     But  the  modern  art  of  landscape  \ 

gardening,  as  it  is  called,  takes  away  all  natural  enrichment,  and  j 

adds  none  of  its  own  ;  unless,  indeed,  meagre  and  formal  clumps  ; 

of  trees,  and  still  more  formal  patches  of  shrubs  may  be  called  ] 

enrichment.     Why  this  art  has  been  called  landscape  gardening,  ' 

perhaps  he,  who  gave  it  the  title,  may  explain.     I  can  see  no  ' 
reason  unless  it  be  the  efficacy  which  it  has  shown  in  destroying 

landscapes,  in  which,  indeed,  it  seems  to  be  infallible ;  not  one  j 

complete  painter's  composition  being,  I  believe,  to  be  found  in  j 

any  of  the  numerous,  and  many  of  them  beautiful  and  picturesque  \ 

spots,  which  it  has  visited  in  different  parts  of  this  island. — An  \ 

Analytical  Enquiry  into  the  Principles  of  Taste,  1805.  ' 

— \VVVv^  \ 

\ 

T  HOPE  therefore   that  you  will    publish   the   system  which    I  RT.  HON.  \ 

*     conceive  you  to  have   adopted,  and  vindicate  to  the  art  of  Tir;„k«  H/r  ' 

1       •  ,     ■  .       •    ,  ,  .    ,  ,      ,,         irr  WINDHAM 

laymg  out  ground  its  true  prmciples,  which  are  wholly  different  (1750-1810).  ' 

from   those   which   these   wild    improvers    (Payne    Knight   and  ; 

Uvedale  Price)  would  wish  to  introduce.     Places  are  not  to  be  \ 

laid  out  with  a  view  to  their  appearance  in  a  picture,  but  to  their  ij 

uses,  and  the  enjoyment  of  them  in  real  life  ;  and  their  conformity  ] 
to   those   purposes  is  that  which  constitutes  their  beauty :  with 
this  view,  gravel   walks   and   neat   mown   lawns,  and   in  some 

situations,  straight  alleys,  fountains,  terraces,  and  for  aught  I  know,  1 
parterres  and  cut  hedges  are  in  perfect  good  taste,  and  infinitely 

more  conformable  to  the  principles  which  form  the  basis  of  our  \ 

pleasure  in  these  instances,  than  the  docks,  and  thistles,  and  litter  ,j 

and  disorder,  that  may  make  a  much  better  figure  in  a  picture. —  | 

Letter  to  Humphry  Repton,  on  his  controversy  with   Uvedale  Price,  \ 

1794,  \ 


—'\/\/\/\f\r— 


/ 


2i8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

HUMPHRY  IVas  the  first  to  assume  professionally  the  title  of  'Landscape  Gardener.^ 
REPTON  Having  failed  as  a  merchant,  he  settled  in  Norfolk,  and  tried  Agricultural 
(i752-ioio)-  Experiments  and  gardening — was  Confidential  Secretary  to  Mr  Windham,  Lord 
Lieutenant  of  Ireland  in  1783 — then  resided  in  Harestreet,  Essex,  till  his  death. 
He  lost  more  money  in  Palmer's  mail-coach  system,  and  then  announced  hitnself 
as  'Landscape  Gardener.'  '  Capability'  Brown,  by  his  death  in  1784,  having 
left  the  field  open,  Repton  began  a  period  of  tininterrupted  prosperity.  He 
published,  1795,  'Sketches  and  Hints  on  Landscape  Gardening';  1803, 
^Observations  on  the  Theory  and  Practice  of  Landscape  Gardening' ;  1806, 
^Inquiry  into  the  Changes  of  Taste  in  Landscape  Gardening^;  1 808,  'Designs 
for  the  Pavilion  at  Brighton  '  {not  accepted)  ;  1816,  '  Fragments  on  the  Theory 
of  Landscape  Gardening,'  assisted  by  his  son;  all  reprinted  by  J.  C.  Loudon, 
in  1840,  in  one  volume,  with  a  Memoir  of  the  author. — [Knight's  Biography.) 

Humphry  Repton  next  occupied  the  attention  of  many,  who  confirmed 
their  opinion  of  his  skill  and  taste  by  greatly  encouraging  his  professional 
labours.  Considered  as  an  eleve  of  Brown's  school,  and,  at  first,  the  zealous 
defender  both  of  his  system  and  practice,  it  is  clear,  that  when  he  became 
more  firmly  established,  he  invented  for  himself,  and  trusted  to  his  own  talents. 
He  declared  himself  a  professor  of  an  art,  to  which  he  gave  the  designation  of 
'Landscape  Gardening,' about  the  year  1788,  and  continued  his  practice  of 
'producing  beautiful  effects,'  till  his  death  in  1818.  If  the  character  of  this 
artist's  talents  be  fairly  examined  and  defined,  it  was  more  for  elegant  orna- 
ment and  prettiness,  than  for  any  decided  effort  of  original  genius.  He 
studied,  in  most  instances,  rather  to  gratify  his  employers  'oy  acceding  to  their 
previous  intentions,  than  to  attempt  grandeur  in  any  scene.  Amenity  was  his 
leading  object — colonnades  of  wicker  work  covered  with  flowering  shrubs,  or 
large  conservatories,  in  fanciful  forms,  were  made  the  appendage  of  mansions, 
no  longer  as  Brown  had  left  them,  bald  and  exposed.  He  continued  to  be  ad- 
mired and  popular,  as  long  as  the  ardour  for  improving  places  and  the  fashion 
itself  lasted.  Nor  can  it  now  be  said  that  it  has  passed  away. — Dallaway's 
'Anecdotes  of  Modern  Gardening.' 

npO  improve  the  scenery  of  a  country,  and  to  display  its  native 
■^  beauties  with  advantage,  is  an  Art  which  originated  in 
England,  and  has  therefore  been  called  English  Gardetiing ;  yet 
as  this  expression  is  not  sufficiently  appropriate,  especially  since 
gardening,  in  its  more  confined  sense  of  Horticulture,  has  been 
likewise  brought  to  the  greatest  perfection  in  this  country,  I  have 
adopted  the  term  Landscape  Gardetiing,  as  most  proper,  because 
the  art  can  only  be  advanced  and  perfected  by  the  united  powers 
of  the  landscape  painter  and  the  practical  gardener.     The  former 


HUMPHRY  REPTON  219 

must  conceive  a  plan,  which  the  latter  may  be  able  to  execute ; 
for  though  a  painter  may  represent  a  beautiful  landscape  on  his 
canvas,  and  even  surpass  Nature  by  the  combination  of  her 
choicest  materials,  yet  the  luxuriant  imagination  of  the  painter 
must  be  subjected  to  the  gardener's  practical  knowledge  in 
planting,  digging  and  moving  earth ;  that  the  simplest  and 
readiest  means  of  accomplishing  each  design  may  be  suggested. 

The  perfection  of  Landscape  Gardening  consists  in  the 
four  following  requisites :  First,  it  must  display  the  Natural 
beauties,  and  hide  the  natural  defects  of  every  situation.  Secondly, 
it  should  give  the  appearance  of  extent  and  freedom,  by  carefully 
disguising  or  hiding  the  boundary.  Thirdly,  it  must  studiously 
conceal  every  interference  of  art,  however  expensive,  by  which  the 
Scenery  is  improved ;  making  the  whole  appear  the  production  of 
Nature  only ;  and  fourthly,  all  objects  of  mere  convenience  or 
comfort,  if  incapable  of  being  made  ornamental,  or  of  becoming 
proper  parts  of  the  general  scenery,  must  be  removed  or  con- 
cealed. ^ 

Each  of  the  four  objects  here  enumerated  are  directly  opposite 
to  the  principles  of  ancient  gardening,  which  may  be  thus  stated. 
First,  the  natural  beauties  or  defects  of  a  situation  had  an  influence, 
when  it  was  the  fashion  to  exclude  by  lofty  walls  every  surround- 
ing object.  Secondly,  these  walls  were  never  considered  as 
defects,  but  were  ornamented  with  vases,  expensive  iron  gates, 
and  palisades  to  render  them  more  conspicuous.  Thirdly,  so 
far  from  making  gardens  appear  natural,  every  expedient  was 
used  to  display  the  expensive  efforts  of  Art,  by  which  Nature  had 
been  subdued  : — the  ground  was  levelled  by  a  line ;  the  water 
was  squared  or  scalloped  into  regular  basins ;  the  trees,  if  not 
clipped  into  artificial  shape,  were  at  least  so  planted  by  line  and 
measurement,  that  the  formal  hand  of  art  could  not  here  be 

^  This  last  article,  I  confess,  has  occasionally  misled  modern  improvers  into 
the  absurdity  of  not  only  banishing  the  appearance  but  the  reality  of  all  com- 
fort and  convenience  to  a  distance  ;  as  I  have  frequently  found  in  the  bad  choice 
of  a  spot  for  the  kitchen  garden. 


2  20  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

mistaken.  And  lastly,  with  respect  to  objects  of  convenience, 
they  were  placed  as  near  the  house  as  possible  : — the  stables,  the 
barns,  and  the  kitchen  garden,  were  among  the  ornaments  of  a 
place ;  while  the  village,  the  alms  house,  the  parish  school,  and 
churchyard  were  not  attempted  to  be  concealed  by  the  walls  or 
palisades  that  divided  them  from  the  Embellished  pleasure  ground. 
— Sketches  and  Hints  on  Landscape  Gardening,  i  794. 

Sources  of  pleasure  in  Landscape  Gardeni?ig : — i.  Conformity; 
2,  Utility ;  3,  Order ;  4,  Symmetry ;  5,  Picturesque  Effect ;  6, 
Intricacy;  7,  Simplicity;  8,  Variety;  9,  Novelty;  10,  Contrast; 
II,  Continuity;  12,  Association;  13,  (Grandeur;  14,  Appropria- 
tion; 15,  Animation. — Ibid. 

JOSEPH      C  CENTS  are  the  souls  of  flowers  :  they  may  be  even  perceptible 
JOUBERT  O     in  j]^g  land  of  shadows. 


(1754-1824). 


The  tulip  is  a  flower  without  a  soul ;  but  the  rose  and  lily  seem 
to  have  one. 

We  ought  to  gather  nothing  which  grows  in  our  cemeteries,  and 
to  let  even  the  grass  in  them  enjoy  a  pious  uselessness. 

We  enjoy  in  gardening  the  pure  delicacies  of  agriculture. 

Our  gardens  in  Paris  smell  musty.  I  do  not  like  these  ever- 
green trees.  There  is  something  of  blackness  in  their  greenery, 
of  coldness  in  their  shade,  something  sharp,  dry,  and  thorny  in 
their  leafage.  Besides,  since  they  neither  lose  anything,  nor  have 
anything  to  fear,  they  seem  to  me  unfeeling,  and  hence  have  litde 
interest  for  me.^ 

When  a  regular  building  commands  the  garden  which  surrounds 
it,  it  ought,  so  to  speak,  to  radiate  regularity,  by  throwing  it  round 
itself  to  all  distances,  whence  it  can  be  easily  seen. 

It  is  a  centre,  and  the  centre  ought  to  be  in  harmony  with  all 
points   of  the   circumference,    which   is   itself  nothing   but   the 

'  '  I  hate  those  trees  that  never  lose  their  foliage  : 
They  seem  to  have  no  sympathy  ■with  Nature  : 
Winter  and  Summer  are  alike  to  them.' 

IV.  S.  Laiidor. 


ARCHIBALD  ALISON  221 

development  of  a  central  point.  Those  irregular  gardens,  which 
we  call  English  gardens,  require  a  labyrinth  for  a  dwelling. — 
Thoughts. 

npHE  Art  of  Gardening  seems  to  have  been  governed,  and  long  ARCHIBALD 

^  governed,  by  the  same  principle.  When  men  first  began  to  *^r',  jg?lv 
consider  a  garden  as  a  subject  capable  of  Beauty,  or  of  bestowing 
any  distinction  upon  its  possession,  it  was  natural  that  they  should 
endeavour  to  render  its  Form  as  different  as  possible  from  that  of 
the  country  around  it ;  and  to  mark  to  the  Spectator,  as  strongly 
as  they  could,  both  the  design  and  the  labour  which  they  had 
bestowed  upon  it.  Irregular  Forms,  however  convenient  or 
agreeable,  might  still  be  the  production  of  Nature;  but  forms 
perfectly  regular,  and  Divisions  completely  uniform, — immediately 
excited  the  belief  of  Design,  and  with  this  belief  all  the  admiration 
which  follows  the  employment  of  Skill,  or  even  of  Expense.  That 
this  Principle  would  naturally  lead  the  first  Artists  in  Gardening 
to  the  production  of  Uniformity,  may  easily  be  conceived,  as  even 
at  present,  when  so  different  a  System  of  Gardening  prevails,  the 
common  People  universally  follow  the  first  System ;  and  even  the 
Men  of  the  best  Taste,  in  the  cultivation  of  waste  or  neglected 
lands,  still  enclose  them  by  uniform  Lines  and  in  regular  Divisions, 
as  more  immediately  signifying  what  they  wish  should  be  signified, 
their  Industry  or  Spirit  in  their  improvement. 

As  gardens,  however,  are  both  a  costly  and  permanent  subject, 
and  are  of  consequence  less  liable  to  the  influence  of  Fashion, 
this  Taste  would  not  easily  be  altered ;  and  the  principal  improve- 
ments which  they  would  receive,  would  consist  rather  in  the 
greater  employment  of  uniformity  and  expense,  than  in  the  intro- 
duction of  any  new  Design.  The  whole  History  of  Antiquity, 
accordingly,  contains  not,  I  believe,  a  single  instance  where  this 
character  was  deviated  from,  in  a  spot  considered  solely  as  a 
garden ;  and  till  within  the  last  century,  and  in  this  country,  it 
seems  not  any  where  to  have  been  imagined,  that  a  garden  was 


222  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

capable  of  any  other  Beauty  than  what  might  arise  from  Utility, 
and  from  the  display  of  Art  and  Design.  It  deserves  also  further 
to  be  remarked,  that  the  additional  ornaments  of  gardening  have 
in  every  country  partaken  of  the  same  character,  and  have  been 
directed  to  the  purpose  of  increasing  the  appearance  and  the 
Beauty  of  Art  and  of  Design.  Hence  Jets  d'Eau,  artificial  Fountains, 
regular  Cascades,  Trees  in  the  form  of  animals,  etc.,  have  in  all 
countries  been  the  principal  ornaments  of  gardening.  The  viola- 
tion of  the  usual  appearances  of  Nature  in  such  objects,  strongly 
exhibited  the  employment  of  Art.  They  accorded  perfectly, 
therefore,  with  the  character  which  the  scene  was  intended  to 
have ;  and  they  increased  its  Beauty  as  they  increased  the  effect 
of  that  quality  upon  which  this  Beauty  was  founded,  and  intended 
to  be  founded. — Essays  oti  tJie  Nature  and  Principles  of  Taste, 
1790. 

— nA/VW— 

SCHILLER  npHERE  will  be  found  in  all  probability  a  very  good  middle 
(1759-1S05).  1  course  between  the  formality  of  the  French  gardening-taste 
and  the  lawless  freedom  of  the  so-called  English  style ;  it  will 
become  manifest  that  this  art  may  not  indeed  soar  into  such  lofty 
spheres  as  they  would  persuade  us,  who,  in  their  designs,  overlook 
nothing  but  the  means  of  putting  them  into  execution ;  and  that 
it  is  certainly  tasteless  and  inconsistent  to  desire  to  encompass  the 
world  with  a  garden-wall,  but  very  practicable  and  reasonable  to 
make  a  garden,  satisfying  all  the  demands  of  a  good  husbandman, 
into  a  characteristic  whole  to  the  eye,  heart,  and  understanding 
alike. 

The  road  from  Stuttgart  to  Hohenheim  is,  in  some  measure,  an 
embodied  history  of  the  art  of  gardening,  which  offers  to  the 
attentive  observer  an  interesting  commentary.  In  the  orchards, 
vineyards,  and  kitchen-gardens,  past  which  the  high  road  stretches, 
the  first  natural  beginning  of  the  garden-art  is  revealed  to  him, 
stripped  of  all  aesthetic  ornament.  But  now  the  French  style  of 
gardening  greets  him  with  dignified  formality  beneath  the  gaunt 


WILLIAM  BECKFORD 


223 


and  abrupt  walls  of  poplar,  which  unite  the  open  landscape  with 
Hohenheim  and  arouse  expectation  by  their  well-balanced  form. 
This  solemn  impression  rises  to  an  almost  painful  intensity,  as  you 
roam  through  the  chambers  of  the  ducal  palace,  which  for 
splendour  and  elegance  has  fevf  peers,  and  in  a  certain  rare 
manner  combines  taste  with  profusion.  By  the  brilliance  which 
here  strikes  the  eye  from  every  side,  and  by  the  exquisite  architec- 
ture of  the  rooms  and  furniture,  the  craving  for  simplicity  is 
wrought  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  the  most  conspicuous  triumph 
is  in  waiting  for  rural  Nature,  which  all  at  once  welcomes  the 
traveller  into  the  so-called  English  Park. 

Meantime  the  monuments  of  sunken  splendour,  against  whose 
decaying  walls  the  gardener  leans  his  peaceful  hut,  make  a  quite 
peculiar  impression  upon  the  heart,  and  it  is  with  a  secret  joy  that 
in  these  mouldering  ruins  we  see  ourselves  revenged  upon  the 
art,  which  in  the  gorgeous  building  hard  by  had  wielded  its 
power  over  us  to  excess.  But  the  Nature  we  meet  in  this  English 
Park  is  no  more  the  same  as  that  we  have  issued  from.  It  is  a 
Nature  quickened  with  soul  and  exalted  by  art,  which  satisfies 
not  only  the  man  of  simple  taste,  but  also  the  spoiled  child  of 
culture,  charming  the  one  into  reflection,  and  leading  back  the 
other  to  emotion. — Miscellaneous  Writi?igs :  On  t/ie  Garden- 
Calefidar  for  the  Year  1795. 

—'^l\l\f\lv— 


Son  of  a  Lord  Mayor,  he  began  lije  with  iimisttal  material,  physical  and  Wl'L'Ll AM 
intellectual  advantages.     He  did  many  extraordinary  things,  writing  '  Vathek  '  BECKFORD 
in  a  few  hours,  building  the  fabulous  Foiithill,  and  shutting  hiinself  ztp  in  it  (1760-1844). 
alone  with  dogs  and  a  viagnificent  library  ;  but  perhaps  the  most  extraordinary 
thing  was  his  declaration,  at  the  close  of  a  long  luxtirious  life,  that  he  had  never 
hiown  an  hours  ennui. 

T  RETURNED  towards  the  Hague,  and  looked  into  a  country- 
A  house  of  the  late  Count  Bentinck,  with  parterres  and  bosquets 
by  no  means  resembling,  one  should  conjecture,  the  gardens  of 
the  Hesperides.  But,  considering  that  the  whole  group  of  trees, 
terraces,  and  verdure  were  in  a  manner  created  out  of  hills  of 


224  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

sand,  the  place  may  claim  some  portion  of  merit.  The  walks 
and  alleys  have  all  the  stiffness  and  formality  which  our  ancestors 
admired,  but  the  intermediate  spaces,  being  dotted  with  clumps 
and  sprinkled  with  flowers,  are  imagined  in  Holland  to  be  in 
the  English  style.  An  Englishman  ought  certainly  to  behold 
it  with  partial  eyes,  since  every  possible  attempt  has  been  made 
to  twist  it  into  the  taste  of  his  country. 

I  need  not  say  how  liberally  I  bestowed  ray  encomiums  on 
Count  Bentinck's  tasteful  inventions ;  nor  how  happy  I  was, 
when  I  had  duly  serpentized  over  his  garden,  to  find  myself  once 
more  in  the  grand  avenue. 

All  the  way  home,  I  reflected  upon  the  unyielding  perseverance 
of  the  Dutch,  who  raise  gardens  from  heaps  of  sand,  and  cities 
out  of  the  bosom  of  the  waters. — Italy^  Spain,  and  Portugal. 
{Letter  II.   Osfend,  June  21,   1780.) 

Having  remained  some  time  in  this  pious  hue,  I  returned  home 
and  feasted  upon  grapes  and  ortolans  with  great  edification ;  then 
walked  to  one  of  the  bridges  across  the  Arno,  and  from  thence 
to  the  garden  of  Boboli,  which  lies  behind  the  Grand  Duke's 
palace,  stretched  out  on  the  side  of  a  mountain.  I  ascended 
terrace  after  terrace,  robed  by  a  thick  underwood  of  bay  and 
myrtle,  above  which  rise  several  nodding  towers,  and  a  long 
sweep  of  venerable  wall,  almost  entirely  concealed  by  ivy.  You 
would  have  been  enraptured  with  the  broad  masses  of  shade 
and  dusky  alleys  that  opened  as  I  advanced,  with  white  statues 
of  fauns  and  sylvans  glimmering  amongst  them  :  some  of  which 
pour  water  into  sarcophagi  of  the  purest  marble,  covered  with 
antique  rilievos.  The  capitals  of  columns  and  ancient  friezes 
are  scattered  about  as  seats. 

On  these  I  reposed  myself,  and  looked  up  to  the  cypress  groves 
which  spring  above  the  thickets  ;  then,  plunging  into  their  retire- 
ments, I  followed  a  winding  path,  which  led  me  by  a  series  of 
steep  ascents  to  a  green  platform  overlooking  the  whole  extent 
of  wood,  with  Florence  deep  beneath,  and  the  tops  of  the  hills 
which  encircle  it  jagged  with  pines ;  here  and  there  a  convent, 


WILLIAM  BECKFORD  225 

or  villa,  whitening  in  the  sun.  This  scene  extends  as  far  as  the 
eye  can  reach. 

Still  ascending  I  attained  the  brow  of  the  eminence,  and  had 
nothing  but  the  fortress  of  Belvedere  and  two  or  three  open 
porticoes  above  me.  On  this  elevated  situation,  I  found  several 
walks  of  trellis-work,  clothed  with  luxuriant  vines.  A  colossal 
statue  of  Ceres,  her  hands  extended  in  the  act  of  scattering  fertility 
over  the  country,  crowns  the  summit. 

Descending  alley  after  alley,  and  bank  after  bank,  I  came  to 
the  orangery  in  front  of  the  palace,  disposed  in  a  grand  amphi- 
theatre, with  marble  niches  relieved  by  dark  foliage,  out  of  which 
spring  cedars  and  tall  aerial  cypresses.  This  spot  brought  the 
scenery  of  an  antique  Roman  garden  so  vividly  into  my  mind, 
that,  lost  in  the  train  of  recollections  this  idea  excited,  I  expected 
every  instant  to  be  called  to  the  table  of  LucuUus  hard  by,  in  one 
of  the  porticoes,  and  to  stretch  myself  on  his  purple  triclinias ; 
but  waiting  in  vain  for  a  summons  till  the  approach  of  night,  I 
returned  delighted  with  a  ramble  that  had  led  my  imagination 
so  far  into  antiquity. — Ibid.     {Florence,  Sept.  14,  1780.) 

I  dined  in  peace  and  solitude,  and  repaired,  as  evening  drew 
on,  to  the  thickets  of  Boboli. 

What  a  serene  sky !  what  mellowness  in  the  tints  of  the 
mountains !  a  purple  haze  concealed  the  bases,  whilst  their 
summits  were  invested  with  saffron  light,  discovering  every  white 
cot  and  every  copse  that  clothed  their  declivities.  The  prospect 
widened  as  I  ascended  the  terraces  of  the  garden. 

After  traversing  many  long  dusky  alleys,  I  reached  the  opening 
on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and,  seating  myself  under  the  statue  of 
Ceres,  took  a  sketch  of  the  huge  mountainous  cupola  of  the 
Duomo,  the  adjoining  lovely  tower  and  one  more  massive  in 
its  neighbourhood,  built  not  improbably  in  the  style  of  ancient 
Etruria.  Beyond  this  historic  group  of  buildings  a  plain  stretches 
itself  far  and  wide,  most  richly  studded  with  villas  and  gardens, 
and  groves  of  pine  and  olive,  quite  to  the  feet  of  the  mountains. 

Having  marked  the  sun's  going   down  and  all  the  soothing 

p 


226  THE  PRAISE  OF  (GARDENS 

effects  cast  by  his  declining  rays  on  every  object,  I  went  through 
a  plat  of  vines  to  a  favourite  haunt  of  mine : — a  little  garden  of 
the  most  fragrant  roses,  with  a  spring  under  a  rustic  arch  of  grotto- 
work  fringed  with  ivy.  Thousands  of  fish  inhabit  here,  of  that 
beautiful  glittering  species  which  comes  from  China.  This  golden 
nation  were  leaping  after  insects  as  I  stood  gazing  upon  the  deep 
clear  water,  listening  to  the  drops  that  trickle  from  the  cove. 
Opposite  to  which,  at  the  end  of  a  green  alley,  you  discover  an 
oval  basin,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  an  antique  statue  full  of  that 
graceful  languor  so  peculiarly  Grecian. 

Whilst  I  was  musing  on  the  margin  of  the  spring  (for  I  returned 
to  it  after  casting  a  look  upon  the  sculpture),  the  moon  rose  above 
the  tufted  foliage  of  the  terraces,  which  I  descended  by  several 
flights  of  steps,  with  marble  balustrades  crowned  by  vases  of  aloes. 
— Florence,  Oct.  5,  1780. 

As  soon  as  the  sun  declined  I  strolled  into  the  Villa  Medici ; 
but  finding  it  haunted  by  pompous  people,  nay,  even  by  the 
Spanish  Ambassador,  and  several  red-legged  Cardinals,  I  moved 
off"  to  the  Negroni  garden.  There  I  found  what  my  soul  desired, 
thickets  of  jasmine,  and  wild  spots  overgrown  with  bay  ;  long 
alleys  of  cypress  totally  neglected,  and  almost  impassable  through 
the  luxuriance  of  the  vegetation  :  on  every  side  antique  fragments, 
vases,  sarcophagi,  and  altars  sacred  to  the  Manes,  in  deep,  shady 
recesses,  which  I  am  certain  the  Manes  must  love.  The  air  was 
filled  with  the  murmurs  of  water  trickling  down  basins  of  porphyry, 
and  losing  itself  amongst  overgrown  weeds  and  grasses. 

Above  the  wood  and  between  its  boughs  appeared  several 
domes,  and  a  strange  lofty  tower.  I  will  not  say  they  belonged 
to  St.  Maria  Maggiore  ]  no,  they  are  fanes  and  porticoes  dedicated 
to  Cybele,  who  delights  in  sylvan  situations.  The  forlorn  air  ot 
this  garden,  with  its  high  and  reverend  shades,  make  me  imagine 
it  as  old  as  the  baths  of  Dioclesian,  which  peep  over  one  of  its 
walls. — Rome,  June  T^o,  1782. 

Home  persuaded  me  much  against  my  will  to  accompany  him 
in  his  Portuguese  chaise  to  Pagliavam,  the  residence  of  John  the 


WILLIAM  BECKFORD  227 

Fifth's  bastards,  instead  of  following  my  usual  track  along  the 
sea-shore.  ...  A  great  fiat  space  before  the  garden-front  of  the 
villa  is  laid  out  in  dismal  labyrinths  of  clipped  myrtle,  with  lofty 
pyramids  rising  from  them,  in  the  style  of  that  vile  Dutch  maze 
planted  by  King  William  at  Kensington,  and  rooted  up  some 
years  ago  by  King  George  the  Third. 

Beyond  this  puzzling  ground  are  several  long  alleys  of  stiff  dark 
verdure,  called  ruas,  i.e.  literally  streets,  with  great  propriety, 
being  more  close,  more  formal,  and  not  less  dusty  than  High 
Holborn.  I  deviated  from  them  into  plats  of  well-watered 
vegetables  and  aromatic  herbs,  inclosed  by  neat  fences  of  cane, 
covered  with  an  embroidery  of  the  freshest  and  most  perfect  roses, 
quite  free  from  insects  and  cankers,  worthy  to  have  strewn  the 

couches  and  graced  the  bosom  of  Lais,  Aspasia,  or  Lady , 

You  know  how  warmly  every  mortal  of  taste  delights  in  these 
lovely  flowers ;  how  frequently,  and  in  what  harmonious  numbers, 

Ariosto  has  celebrated    them.      Has    not    Lady  ■  a  whole 

apartment  painted  over  with  roses  ?  Does  she  not  fill  her  bath 
with  their  leaves,  and  deck  her  idols  with  garlands  of  no  other 
flowers?  and  is  she  not  quite  in  the  right  of  it? — May  30,  1787. 

At  length,  after  a  tedious  drive  through  vast  tracts  of  desolate 
country,  scarce  a  house,  scarce  a  shrub,  scarce  a  human  being  to 
meet  with,  we  descended  a  rapid  declivity,  and  I  once  more  found 
myself  in  the  valley  of  Aranjuez. 

.  .  .  Charles  the  Fifth's  elms  in  the  island-garden  close  to  the 
palace  are  decaying  apace.  I  visited  the  nine  venerable  stumps 
close  to  a  hideous  brick  ruin ;  the  largest  measures  forty  or  fifty 
feet  in  girth  ;  the  roots  are  picturesquely  fantastic.  The  fountains, 
like  the  shades  in  which  they  are  embowered,  are  rapidly  going 
to  decay  :  the  bronze  Venus,  at  the  fountain  which  takes  its  name 
from  Don  John  of  Austria,  has  lost  her  arm. 

Notwithstanding  the  dreariness  of  the  season,  with  all  its 
accompaniment  of  dry  leaves  and  faded  herbage,  this  historic 
garden  had  still  charms ;  the  air  was  mild  and  the  sunbeams 
played  on  the  Tagus,  and  many  a  bird  flitted  from  spray  to  spray. 


2  28  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Several  long  alleys  of  the  loftiest  elms,  their  huge  rough  trunks 
mantled  with  ivy,  and  their  grotesque  roots  advancing  and  reced- 
ing like  grotto-work  into  the  walk,  struck  me  as  singularly 
pleasing. — December  i,  1795. 

— \A/VVv— 

WILLIAM  As  a  boy  of  sixteen  was  engaged  in  the  Gardens  of  Farnham  Castle :  fired  by 
COBBETT  a  description  of  Kew  gardens^  he  started  off  to  see  them  himself:  enlisted  in  ^^h 
(1762 -1 835).  Foot  and  se}~ved  at  Halifax,  N.  S.  \'](j2,  visited  France  for  six  months :  settled 
near  Philadelphia,  teaching  English,  and  is  said  to  have  refused  to  give 
Talleyrand  lessons ;  edited  a  French  grammar.  1 796,  wi-ote  '  Life  and 
Adventures  of  Peter  Porcupine,^  {an  autobiography).  1 802,  started  '  Cobbett''s 
Political  Register,'  continued  till  his  death.  1806,  he  began  farming  at  Botley 
in  Hampshite ;  wrote  'The  Woodlands,''  ' Eftglish  Gardener,'  'American 
Gardener.'  18 10,  was  prosecuted  by  government  for  libel,  and  sentenced  to  two 
years'  imprisonment  and  £1000  fine.  1820,  he  became  insolvent  with  debts  of 
;^34,ooo.  1821,  commenced  his  '  Rural  Rides.'  1832,  after  Reform  Bill  was 
returned  M.P.  for  Oldham. 

THEY  say  that  these  Gardens  (of  Mr  Drummond,  at  Shere, 
Surrey)  were  laid  out  for  one  of  the  Howards,  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  the  Second,  by  Mr  Evelyn,  who  wrote  the  Sylva. 
The  mansion  house,  which  is  by  no  means  magnificent,  stands 
on  a  little  flat  by  the  side  of  a  parish  church,  having  a  steep, 
but  not  lofty  hill,  rising  up  on  the  south  side.  It  looks  right 
across  the  gardens,  which  lie  on  the  slope  of  a  hill  which  runs 
along  at  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant  from  the  front  of  the 
house.  The  gardens,  of  course,  lie  facing  the  south.  At  the 
back  of  them  under  the  hill,  is  a  high  wall ;  and  there  is  also  a 
wall  at  each  end,  running  from  north  to  south.  Between  the 
house  and  the  gardens  there  is  a  very  beautiful  run  of  water,  with 
a  sort  of  little  wild  narrow  sedgy  meadow.  The  gardens  are 
separated  from  this  by  a  hedge,  running  along  from  east  to  west. 
From  this  hedge  there  go  up  the  hill,  at  right  angles,  several 
other  hedges,  which  divide  the  land  here  into  distinct  gardens, 
or  orchards.  Along  at  the  top  of  these  there  goes  a  yew  hedge, 
or,  rather,  a  row  of  small  yew  trees,  the  trunks  of  which  are  bare 
for  about  eight  or  ten  feet  high,  and  the  tops  of  which  form  one 


I 


WILLIAM  COBBETT  229 

solid  head  of  about  ten  feet  high,  while  the  bottom  branches 
come  out  on  each  side  of  the  row  about  eight  feet  horizontally. 
This  hedge,  or  row,  is  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long.  There  is  a  nice 
hard  sand-road  under  this  species  of  umbrella;  and,  summer  and 
winter,  here  is  a  most  delightful  walk !  Behind  this  row  of  yews, 
there  is  a  space,  or  garden  (a  quarter  of  a  mile  long  you  will 
observe)  about  thirty  or  forty  feet  wide,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect. 
At  the  back  of  this  garden,  and  facing  the  yew  tree  row,  is  a 
wall  probably  ten  feet  high,  which  forms  the  breastwork  of  a 
terrace ;  and  it  is  this  terrace  which  is  the  most  beautiful  thing 
that  I  ever  saw  in  the  gardening  way.  It  is  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
long,  and,  I  believe,  between  thirty  and  forty  feet  wide ;  of  the 
finest  green  sward,  and  as  level  as  a  die. 

We  came  hither  by  the  way  of  Waverley  Abbey  and  Moor(e) 
Park.  .  .  .  We  got  leave  to  go  and  see  the  grounds  at  Waverley, 
where  all  the  old  monks'  garden  walls  are  totally  gone,  and 
where  the  spot  is  become  a  sort  of  lawn.^  I  showed  him  the 
spot  where  the  strawberry  garden  was,  and  where  I,  when  sent  to 
gather  hautboys,  used  to  eat  every  remarkably  fine  one,  instead  of 
letting  it  go  to  be  eaten  by  Sir  Robert  Rich.  .  .  . 

From  Waverley  we  went  to  Moore  Park  once  the  seat  of  Sir 
William  Temple,  and,  when  I  was  a  very  little  boy,  the  seat  of  a 
Lady,  or  a  Mrs  Temple.  Here  I  showed  Richard  Mother  Ludlam's 
Hole ;  but  alas,  it  is  not  the  enchanting  place  that  I  knew  it,  nor 
that  which  Grose  describes  in  his  Antiquities !  .  .  .  Near  the 
mansion,  I  showed  Richard  the  hill,  upon  which  Dean  Swift  tells 
us,  he  used  to  run  for  exercise,  while  he  was  pursuing  his  studies 

1  Cobbett  was  born  at  Farnham,  in  a  house  still  existing,  and  the  ancient 
kitchen  garden  of  the  Monks  at  Waverley  Abbey  was  where  he  first  worked. 
'  It  was  the  spot  where  I  first  began  to  learn  to  work,  or  rather  where  I  first 
began  to  eat  fine  fruit  in  a  garden  ;  and  though  I  have  now  seen  and  observed 
upon  as  many  fine  gardens  as  any  man  in  England,  I  have  never  seen  a  garden 
equal  to  that  of  Waverley.' — {The  English  Gardener.) 

The  Abbey  gave  the  title  to  the  Waverley  Novels,  Scott  having  explored  its 
monastic  chronicles  in  early  life — the  Annales  Waverlienses  of  the  Cistercian 
Monks  from  1066  to  1291,  were  published  by  Gale  in  vol  ii.  of  his  Hist. 
Anglican.  Scriptores. 


230  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

here  ;  and  I  would  have  showed  him  the  garden-seat,  under  which 
Sir  WiUiam  Temple's  heart  was  buried,  agreeably  to  his  will ;  ^  but 
the  seat  was  gone,  also  the  wall  at  the  back  of  it ;  and  the  ex- 
quisitely beautiful  little  lawn  in  which  the  seat  stood  was  turned 
into  a  parcel  of  divers-shaped  Cockney  clumps,  planted  according 
to  the  strictest  rules  of  artificial  and  refined  vulgarity.- — Rurai 
Rides. 

MADAME  /'"^  ARDENS  are  almost  as  beautiful  in  some  parts  of  Germany 
(  ^fi  s  7^  ^~^  ^^  ^^  England  ;  the  luxury  of  gardens  always  implies  a  love 
of  the  Country.  In  England  simple  mansions  are  often  built  in 
the  middle  of  the  most  magnificent  parks  ;  the  proprietor  neglects 
his  dwelling  to  attend  to  the  ornament  of  nature.  This  magnifi- 
cence and  simplicity  united  do  not,  it  is  true,  exist  in  the  same 
degree  in  Germany;  yet,  in  spite  of  the  want  of  wealth,  and  the 
pride  of  feudal  dignity,  there  is  everywhere  to  be  remarked  a 
certain  love  of  the  beautiful,  which  sooner  or  later  must  be 
followed  by  taste  and  elegance,  of  which  it  is  the  only  real  source. 
Often,  in  the  midst  of  the  superb  gardens  of  the  German  princes, 
are  placed  ^olian  harps  close  by  grottoes,  encircled  with  flowers, 
that  the  wind  may  waft  the  sound  and  the  perfume  together. 
The  imagination  of  the  northern  people  thus  endeavours  to  create 
for  itself  a  sort  of  Italy ;  and  during  the  brilliant  days  of  a  short- 
lived summer,  it  sometimes  attains  the  deception  it  seeks. — 
Germany,  Chap.  I. 

MAINE  DE       0)1  e  of  the  few   triie  Psychologists  France   has  prodiicea,  who   anticipated 
BIRAN  Schopenhauer  in  making  the  Will  the  main-spring  of  his  Philosophy. 

'  '  '^  T  HAVE  experienced,  this  evening,  in  a  solitary  walk  taken 
^  during  the  finest  weather,  some  instantaneous  flashes  of  that 
ineffable  enjoyment,  which  I  have  tasted  at  other  times,  and  at 

'  Is  Cobbett  accurate  here  ?  It  has  always  been  supposed  that  it  was  a  sun- 
dial (near  the  east  end  of  the  house)  under  which  Temple's  heart  was  buried  in 
a  silver  box  in  1698. 

'^  About  1858  Moor  Park  was  a  Hydropathic  Establishment.  In  1896  it  was 
again  for  sale. 


ISAAC  DISRAELI  231  ; 

such  a  season ;  of  that  pure  pleasure,  which  seems  to  snatch  us  ^ 

away  from  all  that  is  of  the  earth,  to  give  us  a  foretaste  of  heaven.  ^ 

The  verdure  had  a  new  freshness,  and  took  beauty  from  the  last  \ 

rays  of  the  sinking  sun ;    all    things   were   instinct   with   a  soft 

splendour ;  the  trees  waved  tenderly  their  majestic  crests  ;   the  | 

air  was  full  of  balm,  and  the  nightingales  interchanged  sighs  of  | 

love,  which  yielded  to  accents  of  pleasure  and  joy. 

I  walked  gently  in  an  alley  of  young   plane-trees,   which   I  j 

planted  a  few  years  since.      Above   all   the  vague  incomplete  I 

impressions  and  images,   which  were   born  of  the  presence  of  | 

the  objects  and  my  moods,  hovered  this  feeling  of  the  infinite  [ 

which  bears  us  onward  sometimes  towards  a  world  superior  to  | 

phenomena,   towards  this  world  of  realities,   which  links   itself  '' 

to  God,  as  the  first  and  only  reality.     It  seems  in  this  condition,  < 

when  all  sensations  without  and  within  are  calm  and  happy,  as  •; 

if  there  were  a  peculiar  sense  appropriate  to  heavenly  things, 
which,  wrapped  up  in  the  actual  fashion  of  our  existence,  is 
destined  perhaps  to  develop  itself  one  day,  when  the  soul  shall 
have  quitted  its  mortal  husk. — Ifis  Life  a?7d  Thoughts  {Mav  17, 

181S). 

1 

'SPHERE  has  been  a  class  of  men,  whose  patriotic  affection,  or  ISAAC  ' 

^      whose  general  benevolence,  have  been  usually  defrauded  of  the  P  F    g  gT* 
gratitude  their  country  owes  them  :  these  have  been  the  introducers 
of  new  flowers,  new  plants,  and  new  roots  into  Europe ;  the  greater  1 

part  which  we  now  enjoy  was  drawn  from  the  luxuriant  climates  of  ' 

Asia,  and  the  profusion  which  now  covers  our  land  originated  in 
the  most  anxious    nursing,   and  were  the    gifts    of    individuals. 

Monuments   are    reared,  and    medals    struck    to    commemorate  j 

events  and  names  which  are  less  deserving  our  regard  than  those, 
who  have  transplanted  into  the  colder  regions  of  the  North,  the 
rich  fruits,   the  beautiful  flowers,  and  the  succulent  pulse  and  ' 

roots  of  more  favoured  spots  ;  and  carrying  into  their  own  country, 
as  it  were,  another  Nature,  they  have,  as  old  Gerard  well  expresses 


232  THE  PRAISE  OE  GARDENS 

it,  *  laboured  with  the  soil  to  make  it  fit  for  the  plants,  and  with 
the  plants  to  make  them  delight  in  the  soil.' 

There  is  no  part  of  the  characters  of  Peiresc  and  Evelyn, 
accomplished  as  they  are  in  so  many,  which  seems  more  delightful 
to  me,  than  their  enthusiasm  for  the  garden,  the  orchard,  and  the 
forest. — Curiosities  of  Literature. 

— <,/\/\/\f/— 

ALEXANDER  I   ANDSCAPE-PAINTING,  notwithstanding  the  multiplication 
HUMBOLDT  °^  ^^^  productions  by  engravings,  and  by  the  recent  improve- 

(1769-1859).  ments  in  lithography,  is  still  productive  of  a  less  powerful  effect  than 

that  excited  in  minds  susceptible  of  natural  beauty,  by  the  immediate 
aspect  of  groups  of  exotic  plants  in  hot-houses  or  in  gardens.  I 
have  already  alluded  to  the  subject  of  my  own  youthful  experience, 
and  mentioned  that  the  sight  of  a  colossal  dragon-tree  and  of  a 
fan-palm  in  an  old  tower  of  the  botanical  garden  at  Berlin,  im- 
planted in  my  mind  the  seeds  of  an  irresistible  desire  to  under- 
take distant  travels. 

He  who  is  able  to  trace  through  the  whole  course  of  his  im- 
pressions that  which  gave  the  first  leading  direction  to  his  whole 
career,  will  not  deny  the  influence  of  such  a  power. — Cosmos, 
Part  I.,  §  ii. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  GARDEN  IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY 

I    AYING  out  grounds,  as  it  is  called,  may  be  considered  as  a  WILLIAM 

■*-'     liberal  art,  in  some  sort  like  poetry  and  painting ;  and  its  ob-  /^Zq  ?c  r^ 

ject,  like  that  of  all  the  liberal  arts  is,  or  ought  to  be,  to  move  the 

affections  under  the  control  of  good  sense ;  that  is,  those  of  the 

best  and  wisest :  but  speaking  with  more  precision,  it  is  to  assist 

Nature  in  moving  the  affections,  and  surely,  as  I  have  said,  the 

affections  of  those  who  have  the  deepest  perception  of  the  beauty 

of  Nature  ;  who  have  the  most  valuable  feelings,  that  is,  the  most 

permanent,  and  most  independent, -the  most  ennobling,  connected 

with  Nature  and  human  life.     No  liberal  art  aims  merely  at  the 

gratification  of  an  individual  or  a  class  :  the  painter  or  poet  is 

degraded  in  proportion  as  he  does  so ;  the  true  servants  of  the 

arts  pay  homage  to  the  human  kind  as  impersonated  in  unwarped 

enlightened  minds.     If  this  be  so  when  we  are  merely  putting 

together  words  or  colours,  how  much  more  ought  the  feeling  to 

prevail  when  we  are  in  the  midst  of  the  realities  of  things  ;  of  the 

beauty  and  harmony,  of  the  joy  and  happiness  of  living  creatures  j 

of  men  and  children,  of  birds  and  beasts,  of  hills  and  streams, 

and  trees  and  flowers ;  with  the  changes  of  night  and  day,  evening 

and  morning,  summer  and  winter  ;  and  all  their  unwearied  actions 

and  energies,  as  benign  in  the  spirit  that  animates  them,  as  they 

are  beautiful  and  grand  in  that  form  and  clothing  which  is  given 

to  them  for  the  delights  of  our  senses. — Letter  to  Sir  G.  Beaumont, 

1805. 

-^A[\/\rj— 

V/'ET   now  that   these   ridiculous   anomalies   have   fallen   into  SIR 
*       general  disuse,  it  must   be   acknowledged  that  there  exist  orrrni?^ 
gardens,  the  work  of  Loudon,  Wise,  and  such  persons  as  laid  out  (1771-1832). 
ground  in  the  Dutch  taste,  which  would  be  much  better  subjects 

233 


234  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

for  modification  than  for  absolute  destruction.  Their  rarity  now 
entitles  them  to  some  care  as  a  species  of  antiques,  and  unquestion- 
ably they  give  character  to  some  snug,  quiet,  and  sequestered 
situations  which  would  otherwise  have  no  marked  feature  of  any 
kind.  We  ourselves  retain  an  early  and  pleasing  recollection  of 
the  seclusion  of  such  a  scene.  A  small  cottage,  adjacent  to  a 
beautiful  village,  the  habitation  of  an  ancient  maiden  lady,  was 
for  some  time  our  abode.  It  was  situated  in  a  garden  of  seven  or 
eight  acres,  planted  about  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
by  one  of  the  Millars,  related  to  the  author  of  the  Gardener's 
Dictionary,  or,  for  aught  we  know,  by  himself.  It  was  full  of  long 
straight  walks  between  hedges  of  yew  and  hornbeam,  which  rose 
tall  and  close  on  every  side.  There  were  thickets  of  flowering 
shrubs,  a  bower,  and  an  arbour,  to  which  access  was  obtained 
through  a  little  maze  of  contorted  walks,  calling  itself  a  labyrinth. 
In  the  centre  of  the  bower  was  a  splendid  Platanus,  or  oriental 
plane — a  huge  hill  of  leaves — one  of  the  noblest  specimens  of 
that  regularly  beautiful  tree  which  we  remember  to  have  seen.^ 
In  different  parts  of  the  garden  were  fine  ornamental  trees  which 
had  attained  great  size,  and  the  orchard  was  filled  with  fruit-trees 
of  the  best  description.  There  were  seats  and  trellis-walks  and  a 
banqueting  house.  Even  in  our  time  this  little  scene,  intended 
to  present  a  formal  exhibition  of  vegetable  beauty,  was  going  fast 
to  decay.  The  parterres  of  flowers  were  no  longer  watched  by 
the  quiet  and  simple  friends  under  whose  auspices  they  had  been 
planted,  and  much  of  the  ornament  of  the  domain  had  been 
neglected  or  destroyed  to  increase  its  productive  value.  We 
visited  it  lately,  after  an  absence  of  many  years.  Its  air  of 
retreat,  the  seclusion  which  its  alleys  afforded,  was  entirely  gone  ; 
the  huge  Platanus  had  died,  like  most  of  its  kind,  in  the  beginning 
of  this  century ;  the  hedges  were  cut  down,  the  trees  stubbed  up 
and  the  whole  character  of  the  place  so  much  destroyed,  that  I 

^  It  was  under  this  Platamis  that  Scott  first  devoured  Percy's  ReHques.  I 
remember  well  being  with  him,  in  1820,  or  1821,  when  he  revisited  the  favourite 
scene,  and  the  sadness  of  his  looks,  when  he  discovered  that  '  the  huge  hill  of 
leaves  was  no  more.  ^—J,  G.  Lockhart :  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  235 

was  glad  when  I  could  leave  it.^ — Essay  on  Landscape  Gardening. 
{^Quarterly  Review,  1828.) 

BUT  out  of  doors  as  much  resrard  was  shown  to  beauty  as  to  ROBERT 
utility.  Miss  Allison  and  Betsey  claimed  the  little  garden  ^^^n.-^<^..y 
in  front  of  the  house  for  themselves.  It  was  in  so  neglected  a 
state  when  they  took  possession  that,  between  children  and 
poultry  and  stray  pigs,  not  a  garden  flower  was  left  there  to  grow 
wild  :  and  the  gravel  walk  from  the  gate  to  the  porch  was  over- 
grown with  weeds  and  grass,  except  a  path  in  the  middle  which 
had  been  kept  bare  by  use.  On  each  side  of  the  gate  were  three 
yew-trees,  at  equal  distances.  In  the  old  days  of  the  Grange  they 
had  been  squared  in  three  lessening  stages,  the  uppermost  taper- 
ing pyramidally  to  a  point.  While  the  house  had  been  shorn  of 
its  honours,  the  yews  remained  unshorn  ;  but  when  it  was  once 
more  occupied  by  a  wealthy  habitant,  and  a  new  gate  had  been 
set  up  and  the  pillars  and  their  stone  balls  cleaned  from  moss 
and  lichen  and  short  ferns,  the  unfortunate  evergreens  were  again 
reduced  to  the  formal  shape  in  which  Mr  Allison  and  his  sister 
remembered  them  in  their  childhood. 

This  was  with  them  a  matter  of  feeling,  which  is  a  better  thing 
than  taste.  And  indeed  the  yews  must  either  have  been  trimmed, 
or  cut  down,  because  they  intercepted  sunshine  from  the  garden, 
and  the  prospect  from  the  upper  windows.  The  garden  would 
have  been  better  without  them,  for  they  were  bad  neighbours  : 
but  they  belonged  to  old  times,  aud  it  would  have  seemed  a  sort 
of  sacrilege  to  destroy  them. 

Flower-beds  used,  like  beds  in  the  kitchen-garden,  to  be  raised 
a  little  above  the  path,  with  nothing  to  divide  them  from  it,  till 
about  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century  ;  the  fashion  of 
bordering  them  was  introduced  either  by  the  Italians  or  the 
French.  Daisies,  periwinkles,  feverfew,  hyssop,  lavender,  rose- 
mary, rue,  sage,  wormwood,  camomile,  thyme,  and  box  were  used 
for  this  purpose :  a  German  horticulturist  observes  that  hyssop 
^  See  Note  on  page  234. 


236  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

was  preferred  as  the  most  convenient ;  box,  however,  gradually 
obtained  the  preference.  The  Jesuit  Rapin  claims  for  the  French 
the  merit  of  bringing  this  plant  into  use,  and  embellishes  his 
account  of  it  by  one  of  those  school-boy  fictions  which  passed  for 
poetry  in  his  day,  and  may  still  pass  for  it  in  his  country.  He 
describes  a  feast  of  the  rural  Gods.  .    .  . 

Adfuit  et  Cybele,  Phrygias  celebrata  per  urbes,  etc. 

The  fashion  which  this  buxom  Flora  introduced  had  at  one 
time  the  effect  of  banishing  flowers  from  what  should  have  been 
the  flower  garden ;  the  ground  was  set  with  box  in  their  stead, 
disposed  in  patterns  more  or  less  formal,  some  intricate  as  a 
labyrinth  and  not  little  resembling  those  of  Turkey  carpets,  where 
Mahommedan  laws  interdict  the  likeness  of  any  living  thing,  and 
the  taste  of  Turkish  weavers  excludes  any  combination  of  graceful 
forms.  One  sense  at  least  was  gratified  when  fragrant  herbs  were 
used  in  these  *  rare  figures  of  composures,'  or  knots  as  they  were 
called,  hyssop  being  mixed  in  them  with  thyme,  as  aiders  the  one 
to  the  other,  the  one  being  dry,  the  other  moist.  Box  had  the 
disadvantage  of  a  disagreeable  odour ;  but  it  was  greener  in  winter 
and  more  compact  in  all  seasons.  To  lay  out  these  knots  and 
tread  them  required  the  skill  of  a  master-gardener :  much  labour 
was  thus  expended  without  producing  any  beauty.  The  walks 
between  them  were  sometimes  of  different  colours ;  some  would 
be  of  lighter  or  darker  gravel,  red  or  yellow  sand  ;  and  when  such 
materials  were  at  hand,  pulverised  coal,  and  pulverised  shells. 

Such  a  garden  Mr  Cradock  saw  at  Bordeaux  no  longer  ago 
than  the  year  1785  ;  it  belonged  to  Monsieur  Rabi,  a  very  rich 
Jew  merchant,  and  was  surrounded  by  a  bank  of  earth,  on  which 
there  stood  about  two  hundred  blue  and  white  flower-pots ;  the 
garden  itself  was  a  scroll-work  cut  very  narrow,  and  the  interstices 
filled  with  sand  of  different  colours  to  imitate  embroidery  ;  it 
required  repairing  after  every  shower,  and  if  the  wind  rose,  the 
eyes  were  sure  to  suffer.  Yet  the  French  admired  this  and 
exclaimed,  Superbe  I  magnifique  ! 

Neither  Miss  Allison  nor  her  niece  would  have   taken   any 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  237 

pleasure  in  gardens  of  this  kind,  which  had  nothing  of  a  garden 
but  the  name.  They  both  dehghted  in  flowers  ;  the  aunt  because 
flowers  to  her  were  'redolent  of  youth,'  and  never  failed  to 
awaken  tender  recollections ;  Betsey  for  an  opposite  reason : 
having  been  born  and  bred  in  London,  a  nosegay  there  had 
seemed  always  to  bring  her  a  foretaste  of  those  enjoyments  for 
which  she  was  looking  forward  with  eager  hope.  They  had 
stocked  their  front-garden  therefore  with  the  gayest  and  the 
sweetest  flowers  that  were  cultivated  in  those  days ;  larkspurs, 
both  of  the  giant  and  dwarf  species,  and  of  all  colours ;  sweet- 
williams  of  the  richest  hues  ;  monk's-hood  for  its  stately  growth  ; 
Betsey  called  it  the  dumbledore's  delight,  and  was  not  aware  that 
the  plant,  in  whose  helmet,  rather  than  cowl-shaped  flowers  that 
busy  and  best-natured  of  all  insects  appears  to  revel  more  than 
in  any  other,  is  the  deadly  aconite  of  which  she  read  in  poetry  : 
the  white  lily,  and  the  fleur-de-lis ;  poeonies,  which  are  still  the 
glory  of  the  English  garden  :  stocks  and  gillyflowers  which  make 
the  air  sweet  as  the  gales  of  Arabia ;  wall-flowers,  which  for  a 
while  are  little  less  fragrant,  and  not  less  beautiful;  pinks  and 
carnations  added  their  spicy  odours ;  roses,  red  and  white, 
peeped  at  the  lower  casements,  and  the  jessamine  climbed  to 
those  of  the  chambers  above.  You  must  nurse  your  own  flowers, 
if  you  would  have  them  flourish,  unless  you  happen  to  have  a 
gardener,  who  is  as  fond  of  them  as  yourself. 

Eve  was  not  busier  with  hers  in  Paradise,  her  'pleasant  task 
injoined,'  than  Betsey  Allison  and  her  aunt,  from  the  time  that 
early  spring  invited  them  to  their  cheerful  employment,  till  late 
and  monitory  autumn  closed  it  for  the  year. 

'  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these ' ; 
and  Solomon  in  all  his  wisdom  never  taught  more  wholesome 
lessons  than  these  silent  monitors  convey  to  a  thoughtful  mind 
and  an  understanding  heart.  'There  are  two  books,'  says  Sir 
Thomas  Browne,  'from  whence  I  collect  my  Divinity;  besides 
that  written  one  of  God,  another  of  his  servant  Nature — that 
universal  and  public  manuscript  that  lies  expansed  unto  the 
eyes  of  all.     Those  that  never  saw  him   in   the  one  have  dis- 


238  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

covered  him  in  the  other.  This  was  the  scripture  and  theology 
of  the  heathens  :  the  natural  motion  of  the  sun  made  them  more 
admire  him  than  its  supernatural  station  did  the  children  of 
Israel;  the  ordinary  effects  of  nature  wrought  more  admiration 
in  them,  than  in  the  other  all  his  miracles.  Surely  the  heathens 
knew  better  how  to  join  and  read  these  mystical  letters,  than 
we  Christians,  who  cast  a  more  careless  eye  on  those  common 
hieroglyphics,  and  disdain  to  suck  divinity  from  the  flowers  of 
Nature.' — The  Doctor. 

—fr\i\iv— 

SYDNEY  CiWion  of  St  rauPs,  first  Editor  of  Edinburgh  Review,   author  of  'Peter 

SMITH  Plymley's  Letters,'  'Sketches  of  Moral  Philosophy,^  and  countless  tvitticisms. 

U774-1847). 

T  WENT  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  some  years  ago,  to  stay  at  a 

*  very  grand  and  beautiful  place  in  the  country,  where  the 
grounds  are  said  to  be  laid  out  with  consummate  taste.  For  the 
first  three  or  four  days  I  was  perfectly  enchanted ;  it  seemed 
something  so  much  better  than  nature,  that  I  really  began  to 
'  wish  the  earth  had  been  laid  out  according  to  the  latest  principles 

of  improvement,  and  that  the  whole  face  of  nature  were  a  little 
more  the  appearance  of  a  park.  In  three  days'  time  I  was  tired 
to  death ;  a  thistle,  a  nettle,  a  heap  of  dead  bushes,  anything 
that  wore  the  appearance  of  accident  and  want  of  intention,  was 
quite  a  relief.  I  used  to  escape  from  the  made  grounds,  and 
walk  upon  an  adjacent  goose-common,  where  the  cart-ruts,  gravel- 
pits,  bumps,  irregularities,  coarse  ungentlemanlike  grass,  and  all 
the  varieties  produced  by  neglect,  were  a  thousand  times  more 
gratifying  than  the  monotony  of  beauties  the  result  of  design, 
and  crowded  into  narrow  confines  with  a  luxuriance  and  abundance 
utterly  unknown  to  nature. 

— fAAt^ — 

CHARLES  A  AINE  too, — whose  else?— thy  costly  fruit-garden,  with  its  sun- 

LAMB  IVl     baked  southern  wall;    the  ampler  pleasure-garden,  rising 

backwards  from  the  house   in   triple   terraces,  with   flower-pots 

now  of  palest  lead,  save  that  a  speck  here  and  there,  saved  from 


CHARLES  LAMB  239 

the  elements,  bespake  their  pristine  state  to  have  been  gilt  and 
glittering ;  the  verdant  quarters  backwarder  still ;  and  stretching 
still  beyond,  in  old  formality,  thy  firry  wilderness,  the  haunt  of 
the  squirrel,  and  the  day-long  murmuring  wood-pigeon,  with  that 
antique  image  in  the  centre,  god  or  goddess  I  wist  not ;  but 
child  of  Athens  or  old  Rome  paid  never  a  sincerer  worship  to 
Pan  or  to  Sylvanus  in  their  native  groves,  than  I  to  that  fragraental 

mystery. — Essays  of  Elia  {Blakesmoor  in  H- shire). 

What  a  transition  for  a  countryman  visiting  London  for  the 
first  time — the  passing  from  the  crowded  Strand  or  Fleet  Street, 
by  unexpected  avenues,  into  its  (the  Temple's)  magnificent  ample 
squares,  its  classic  green  recesses  !  What  a  cheerful,  liberal  look 
hath  that  portion  of  it,  which,  from  three  sides,  overlooks  the 
greater  garden  ;  that  goodly  pile 

'  Of  building  strong,  albeit  of  Paper  hight,' 

confronting  with  massy  contrast,  the  lighter,  older,  more  fantastic- 
ally shrouded  one,  named  of  Harcourt,  with  the  cheerful  Crown 
Office-row  (place  of  my  kindly  engendure),  right  opposite  the 
stately  stream,  which  washes  the  garden-foot  with  her  yet  scarcely 
trade-polluted  waters,  and  seems  but  just  weaned  from  her 
Twickenham  Naiades  !  a  man  would  give  something  to  have 
been  born  in  such  places. 

What  a  collegiate  aspect  has  that  line  Elizabethan  hall,  where 
the  fountain  plays,  which  I  have  made  to  rise  and  fall,  how  many 
times  !  to  the  astonishment  of  the  young  urchins,  my  contempor- 
aries, who,  not  being  able  to  guess  at  its  recondite  machinery, 
were  almost  tempted  to  hail  the  wondrous  work  as  magic  ! 
What  an  antique  air  had  the  now  almost  effaced  sun-dials,  with 
their  moral  inscriptions,  seeming  coevals  with  that  Time  which 
they  measured,  and  to  take  their  revelations  of  its  flight  im- 
mediately from  heaven,  holding  correspondence  with  the  fountain 
of  light !  How  would  the  dark  line  steal  imperceptibly  on, 
watched  by  the  eye  of  childhood,  eager  to  detect  its  movement, 
never  catched,  nice  as  an  evanescent  cloud,  or  the  first  arrests 
of  sleep ! 


240  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Ah  !  yet  doth  beauty,  like  a  dial-hand, 
Steal  from  his  figure,  and  no  pace  perceived  ! 

What  a  dead  thing  is  a  clock,  with  its  ponderous  embowelments 
of  lead  or  brass,  its  pert  or  solemn  dulness  of  communication, 
compared  with  the  simple  altar-like  structure  and  silent  heart- 
language  of  the  old  dial !  It  stood  as  the  garden  god  of  Christian 
gardens.  Why  is  it  almost  everywhere  banished  ?  If  its  business- 
use  be  superseded  by  more  elaborate  inventions,  its  moral  uses, 
its  beauty,  might  have  pleaded  for  its  continuance.  It  spoke  of 
moderate  labours,  of  pleasures  not  protracted  after  sunset,  of 
temperance,  and  good  hours.  It  was  the  primitive  clock,  the 
horologe  of  the  first  world.  Adam  could  scarce  have  missed  it 
in  Paradise.  It  was  the  measure  appropriate  for  sweet  plants  and 
flowers  to  spring  by,  for  the  birds  to  apportion  their  silver  warblings 
by,  for  flocks  to  pasture  and  be  led  to  fold  by.  The  '  shepherd 
carved  it  out  quaintly  in  the  sun ' ;  and  turning  philosopher  by 
the  very  occupation,  provided  it  with  mottoes  more  touching  than 
tombstones.  It  was  a  pretty  device  of  the  gardener,  recorded  by 
Marvell,  who,  in  the  days  of  artificial  gardening,  made  a  dial  out 
of  herbs  and  flowers. 

I  must  quote  his  verses  a  little  higher  up,  for  they  are  full,  as 
all  his  serious  poetry  was,  of  a  witty  delicacy.  They  will  not 
come  in  awkwardly,  I  hope,  in  a  talk  of  fountains  and  sun-dials. 

He  is  speaking  of  sweet  garden  scenes  : — 

What  wondrous  life  is  this  I  lead  ! 
Rich  apples  drop  about  my  head. 
The  luscious  clusters  of  the  vine 
Upon  my  mouth  do  crush  their  wine. 
The  nectarine  and  curious  peach 
Into  my  hands  themselves  do  reach. 
Stumbling  on  melons,  as  I  pass, 
Insnared  with  flowers,  I  fall  on  grass. 
Meanwhile  the  mind  from  pleasure  less 
Withdraws  into  its  happiness. 
The  mind,  that  ocean,  where  each  kind 
Does  straight  its  own  resemblance  find  ; 
Yet  it  creates,  transcending  these. 
Far  other  worlds,  and  other  seas, 


CHARLES  LAMB  241 

Annihilating  all  that's  made 

To  a  green  thought  in  a  green  shade. 

Here  at  the  fountain's  sliding  foot, 

Or  at  some  fruit-tree's  mossy  root, 

Casting  the  body's  vest  aside, 

My  soul  into  the  boughs  does  glide  ; 

There,  like  a  bird,  it  sits  and  sings, 

Then  whets  and  claps  its  silver  wrings, 

And  till  prepared  for  longer  flight 

Waves  in  its  plumes  the  various  light. 

How  well  the  skilful  gardener  drew 

Of  flowers  and  herbs  this  dial  new, 

Where  from  above  the  milder  sun 

Does  through  a  fragrant  zodiac  run  ; 

And  as  it  works,  the  industrious  bee 

Computes  its  time  as  well  as  we. 

How  could  such  sweet  and  wholesome  hours 

Be  reckoned  but  with  herbs  and  flowers  ?  ^ 

—  The  Old  Benchers  of  the  hmer  Temple. 

I  am  ill  at  dates,  but  I  think  it  is  now  better  than  five-and- 
twenty  years  ago,  that  walking  in  the  gardens  of  Gray's  Inn — 
they  were  then  far  finer  than  they  are  now — the  accursed  Verulam 
Buildings  had  not  encroached  upon  all  the  east  side  of  them, 
cutting  out  the  delicate  green  crankles,  and  shouldering  away  one 
or  two  of  the  stately  alcoves  of  the  terrace — the  survivor  stands 
gaping  and  relationless  as  if  it  remembered  its  brother — they  are 
still  the  best  gardens  of  any  of  the  Inns  of  Court,  my  beloved 
Temple  not  forgotten — have  the  gravest  character ;  their  aspect 
being  altogether  reverend  and  law-breathing — Bacon  has  left  the 
impress  of  his  foot  upon  their  gravel  walks — taking  my  afternoon 
solace  on  a  summer  day  upon  the  aforesaid  terrace,  a  comely  sad 
personage  came  towards  me,  whom  from  his  grave  air  and  deport- 
ment, I  judged  to  be  one  of  the  old  Benchers  of  the  Inn.  .  .  . — 
On  some  of  the  old  Actors. 

When  you  come  Londonward,  you  will  find  me  no  longer  in 
Covent  Garden ;  I  have  a  cottage  in  Colebrook  Row,  Islington ; 
^  From  a  copy  of  verses  entitled  '  The  Garden.' 
Q 


242  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

— a  cottage,  for  it  is  detached  ;  a  white  house  with  six  good  rooms 
in  it;  the  New  River  (rather  elderly  by  this  time)  runs  (if  a 
moderate  walking  pace  can  be  so  termed)  close  to  the  foot  of  the 
house;  and  behind  is  a  spacious  garden,  with  vines  (I  assure 
you);  pears,  strawberries,  parsnips,  leeks,  carrots,  cabbages,  to 
delight  the  heart  of  old  Alcinous.  ...  I  heard  of  you  from 
Mr  P.  this  morning,  and  that  gave  a  fillip  to  my  laziness,  which 
has  been  intolerable ;  but  I  am  so  taken  up  with  pruning  and 
gardening,  quite  a  new  sort  of  occupation  to  me.  I  have  gathered 
my  jargonels,  but  my  winter  pears  are  backward.  The  former 
were  of  exquisite  raciness.  I  do  now  sit  under  my  own  vine,  and 
contemplate  the  growth  of  vegetable  nature.  I  can  now  under- 
stand in  what  sense  they  speak  of  Father  Adam.  I  recognise 
the  paternity,  while  I  watch  my  tulips.  I  almost  feel  with  him 
too ;  for  the  first  day  I  turned  a  drunken  gardener  (as  he  let  in 
the  serpent)  into  my  Eden,  and  he  laid  about  him,  lopping  off 
some  choice  boughs,  etc.,  which  hung  over  from  a  neighbour's 
garden,  and  in  his  blind  zeal  laid  waste  a  shade,  which  had 
sheltered  their  window  from  the  gaze  of  passers-by.  The  old 
gentlewoman  (fury  made  her  not  handsome)  could  scarcely  be 
reconciled  by  all  my  fine  words.  There  was  no  buttering  her 
parsnips.  She  talked  of  the  law.  What  a  lapse  to  commit  on 
the  first  day  of  my  happy  '  garden  state  ! ' — Letter  to  Bernard 
Barton.     {Sept.  2,  1823.) 

WALTER    "T^ERNISSA.  I  promise  you  I  never  will  hate  a  tree  again. 
?^Yt^9wo  Epicurus.  I  told  you  so. 

LANDOR  ^  .  T.T  1       1  T  rr.  •  •,,  r 

{1775-1865).  Leotition.  Nevertheless  I  suspect,  my  Ternissa,  you  will  often 
be  surprised  into  it.  I  was  very  near  saying,  '  I  hate  these  rude 
square  stones  ! '     Why  did  you  leave  them  here,  Epicurus  ? 

Epicurus.  It  is  true,  they  are  the  greater  part  square,  and  seem 
to  have  been  cut  out  in  ancient  times  for  plinths  and  columns : 
they  are  also  rude.  Removing  the  smaller,  that  I  might  plant 
violets  and  cyclamens  and  convolvuluses  and  strawberries,  and 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR  243 

such  other  herbs  as  grow  willingly  in  dry  places,  I  left  a  few  of 
these  for  seats,  a  few  for  tables  and  for  couches. 

Leontion.  Delectable  couches  ! 

Epicurus.  Laugh  as  you  may,  they  will  become  so  when  they 
are  covered  with  moss  and  ivy,  and  those  other  two  sweet  plants, 
whose  names  I  do  not  remember  to  have  found  in  any  ancient 
treatise,  but  which  I  fancy  I  have  heard  Theophrastus  call 
'Leontion' and 'Ternissa.'  .  .  . 

LeontioTt.  Why  have  you  torn  up  by  the  root  all  these  little 
mountain  ash-trees  ?  This  is  the  season  of  their  beauty  :  come, 
Ternissa,  let  us  make  ourselves  necklaces  and  armlets,  such  as 
may  captivate  old  Sylvanus  and  Pan  :  you  shall  have  your  choice. 
But  why  have  you  torn  them  up  ? 

Epicurus.  On  the  contrary,  they  were  brought  hither  this 
morning.  Sosimenes  is  spending  large  sums  of  money  on  an 
olive-ground,  and  has  uprooted  some  hundreds  of  them,  of  all 
ages  and  sizes.  I  shall  cover  the  rougher  part  of  the  hill  with 
them,  setting  the  clematis  and  vine  and  honey-suckle  against 
them,  to  unite  them. 

Ternissa.  O  what  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  to  walk  in  the  green  light 
of  the  vine-leaves,  and  to  breathe  the  sweet  odour  of  their  invisible 
flowers  ! 

Epicurus.  The  scent  of  them  is  so  delicate  that  it  requires  a 
sigh  to  inhale  it ;  and,  this,  being  accompanied  and  followed  by 
enjoyment,  renders  the  fragrance  so  exquisite.  Ternissa,  it  is 
this,  my  sweet  friend,  that  made  you  remember  the  green  light  of 
the  foliage,  and  think  of  the  invisible  flowers  as  you  would  of 
some  blessing  from  heaven. — Imaginary  Conversations.  {Epicurus, 
Leojitiouy  and  Ternissa^ 

Fillipo.  It  is  delightful  to  see  their  (the  Moors')  gardens,  when 
one  has  not  the  weeding  and  irrigation  of  them.  What  fruit ! 
what  fohage !  what  trellises !  what  alcoves  !  what  a  contest  of 
rose  and  jessamine  for  supremacy  in  odor  !  of  lute  and  nightingale 
for  victory  in  song !  And  how  the  little  bright  ripples  of  the 
docile  brooks,   the  fresher  for  their  races,  leap  up  against  one 


244  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

another  to  look  on  !  And  how  they  chirrup  and  applaud,  as  if 
they  too  had  a  voice  of  some  importance  in  these  parties  of 
pleasure  they  are  loath  to  separate. 

Eugeniiis.  Parties  of  pleasure  !  birds,  fruits,  shallow  running 
waters,  lute-players  and  wantons  !  Parties  of  pleasure  !  and  com- 
posed of  these  !  Tell  me  now,  Filippo,  tell  me  truly,  what  com- 
plexion in  general  have  the  discreeter  females  of  that  hapless 
country. 

Filippo.  The  colour  of  an  orange-flower,  on  which  an  overladen 
bee  has  left  a  suffusion  of  her  purest  honey. — Ibid.  {Fra  Filippo 
Lippi  and  Fope  Eugenius  IV.) 

Landor.  Enter  the  gardens  and  approach  the  vases :  do  you 
perceive  the  rarity,  the  beauty,  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers  ?  In 
one  is  a  bush  of  box,  in  another  a  knot  of  tansy.  Neptune  is 
recumbent  on  a  bed  of  cabbages,  and  from  the  shell  of  a  Triton 
sprout  three  turnips  ...  to  be  sold. 

Fallavicini.  Our  first  object  in  the  garden  is  profit.  The 
vicinity  of  Genoa  produces  a  large  quantity  of  lemons,  and  many 
families  are  supported  by  renting,  at  about  thirty  crowns,  half  an 
acre  or  less  of  lemon  ground.  .  .  . 

Landor.  We  Englishmen  talk  of  plantifig  a  garden ;  the 
modern  Italians  and  ancient  Romans  talk  of  building  one. 
Ours,  the  most  beautiful  in  the  universe,  are  not  exempt  from 
absurdities ;  but  in  the  shadiness  of  the  English  garden  it  is 
the  love  of  retirement  that  triumphs  over  taste,  and  over  a 
sense  of  the  inconveniences. 

Inhabiting  a  moist  and  chilly  climate,  we  draw  our  woods 
almost  into  our  dining-rooms ;  you,  inhabiting  a  sultry  one, 
condemn  your  innocent  children  to  the  ordeal  of  a  red-hot 
gravel.  The  shallow  well  called  pescina,  in  the  middle  of  every 
garden,  contains  just  enough  water  to  drown  them — which  happens 
frequently — and  to  supply  a  generation  of  gnats  for  the  villegianti. 
We  again  may  be  ridiculed  in  our  turn  :  our  serpentine  ditches 
are  fog-beds. 

You  should  cover  your  reservoirs  (an  old  hat  or  wig  would  do 


HENRY  HALLAM  245 

it),  and  we  should  invite  our  Naiads  to  dance  along  the  green  a 
good  half-mile  from  our  windows. 

The  English  are  more  zealous  of  introducing  new  fruits,  shrubs 
and  plants,  than  other  nations  ;  you  Italians  are  less  so  than  any 
civilised  one.  Better  fruit  is  eaten  in  Scotland  than  in  the  most 
fertile  and  most  cultivated  parts  of  your  peninsula.  As  for  flowers, 
there  is  a  greater  variety  in  the  worst  of  your  fields  than  in  the 
best  of  your  gardens.  As  for  shrubs,  I  have  rarely  seen  a  lilac, 
a  laburnum,  a  mezereon,  in  any  of  them  :  and  yet  they  flourish 
before  almost  every  cottage  in  our  poorest  villages.  I  now  come 
among  the  ordinary  fruits.  The  currant,  the  gooseberry,  and  the 
raspberry — the  most  wholesome  and  not  the  least  delicious — were 
domesticated  among  you  by  the  French  in  some  few  places : 
they  begin  to  degenerate  already.  I  have  eaten  good  apples  in 
this  country,  and  pears  and  cherries  much  better  than  ours ;  the 
other  kinds  of  fruitage  appeared  to  me  unfit  for  the  table,  not  to 
say  uneatable ;  and  as  your  gentlemen  send  the  best  to  market, 
whether  the  produce  of  their  own  gardens  or  presents,  I  have 
probably  tasted  the  most  highly-flavored.  Although  the  sister 
of  Bonaparte  introduced  peaches,  nectarines,  and  apricots  from 
France,  and  planted  them  at  Marlia,  near  Lucca,  no  person  cares 
about  taking  grafts  from  them. 

We  wonder  in  England,  when  we  hear  it  related  by  travellers, 
that  peaches  in  Italy  are  left  under  the  trees  for  swine ;  but,  when 
we  ourselves  come  into  the  country,  our  wonder  is  rather  that  the 
swine  do  not  leave  them  for  animals  less  nice. 

I  have  now,  Signor  Marchese,  performed  the  conditions  you 
imposed  on  me,  to  the  extent  of  my  observation  ;  hastily  I  con- 
fess it,  and  pre-occupied  by  the  interest  you  excited. — Ibid. 
{Marchese  Pallavidni  and  Walter  Landor.) 

K     FAR  superior  performance  is  the  poem  on  Gardens  by  the  HENRY 
■'*•     Jesuit  Rene  Rapin.     For  skill  in  varying  and  adorning  his  HALLAM 
subject,  for  a  truly  Virgilian  spirit  in  expression,  for  the  exclusion 
of  feeble,  prosaic,  or  awkward  lines,  he  may  perhaps  be  equal  to 


246  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

any  poet,  to  Sammarthanus  or  to  Sannazarius  himself.  His 
cadences  are  generally  very  gratifying  to  the  ear,  and  in  this 
respect  he  is  much  above  Vida.  But  his  subject  or  his  genius, 
has  prevented  him  from  rising  very  high ;  he  is  the  poet  of 
Gardens,  and  what  Gardens  are  to  nature,  that  is  he  to  mightier 
poets.  There  is  also  too  monotonous  a  repetition  of  nearly  the 
same  images,  as  in  his  long  enumeration  of  flowers  in  the  first 
book ;  the  descriptions  are  separately  good,  and  great  artifice  is 
shown  in  varying  them  ;  but  the  variety  could  not  be  sufficient  to 
vary  the  general  sameness  that  belongs  to  an  horticultural  cata- 
logue. Rapin  was  a  great  admirer  of  box  and  all  topiary  works, 
or  trees  cut  into  artificial  forms. 

The  first  book  of  the  Gardens  of  Rapin  is  on  flowers,  the  second 
on  trees,  the  third  on  waters,  and  the  fourth  on  fruits.  The  poem 
is  of  about  3000  lines,  sustained  with  equable  dignity.  All  kinds 
of  graceful  associations  are  mingled  with  the  description  of  his 
flowers,  in  the  fanciful  style  of  Ovid  and  Darwin  ;  the  violet  is 
lanthis,  who  lurked  in  valleys  to  shun  the  love  of  Apollo,  and 
stained  her  face  with  purple  to  preserve  her  chastity :  the  rose  is 
Rhodanthe,  proud  of  her  beauty,  and  worshipped  by  the  people 
in  the  place  of  Diana,  but  changed  by  the  indignant  Apollo  to  a 
tree,  while  the  populace,  who  had  adored  her,  are  converted  into 
her  thorns,  and  her  chief  lovers  into  snails  and  butterflies.  A 
tendency  to  conceit  is  perceived  in  Rapin,  as  in  the  two  poets  to 
whom  we  have  just  compared  him.  Thus,  in  some  pretty  lines, 
he  supposes  Nature  to  have  '  tried  her  prentice  hand  '  in  making 
a  convolvulus,  before  she  ventured  upon  a  lily. 

In  Rapin  there  will  generally  be  remarked  a  certain  redundancy, 
which  fastidious  critics  might  call  tautology  of  expression.  But 
this  is  not  uncommon  in  Virgil.  The  Georgics  have  rarely  been 
more  happily  imitated,  especially  in  their  didactic  parts,  than  by 
Rapin  in  the  Gardens  ;  but  he  has  not  the  high  flights  of  his 
prototype  :  his  digressions  are  short  and  belong  closely  to  the 
subject;  we  have  no  plague,  no  civil  war,  no  Eurydice.  If  he 
praises  Louis  XIV.,  it  is  more  as  the  Founder  of  the  Garden  of 
Versailles,  than  as  the  conqueror  of  Flanders,  though  his  con- 


LORD  CAMPBELL  247 

I 

( 


eluding  lines  emulate  with  no  unworthy  spirit,  those  of  the  last 
Georgic.  It  may  be  added,  that  some  French  critics  have 
thought  the  famous  poem  of  Delille  on  the  same  subject  inferior 
to  that  of  Rapin. — Ifitroduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe. 

\ 


While  reading  for  the   Bar,    acted  as    dramatic    critic    to    the   Morning  LORD 

Chronicle;   later  Lord  Chief  Justice  and  Lord  Chancellor  of  England,  a«a?  CAMPBELL  : 

biographer  of  his  predecessors  in  those   offices.     He  declared  himself  on   the  vw79"^°"l^  I 

hustings  to  be   '  Plain  Jock   Campbell,^  introduced  and  carried  the  '  Divorce  '  j 

Act'  of  1857,  defended  Lord  Melbourne  and  Mrs  Norton,  and  is  tnost  often  ;] 

quoted  in  the  Law  Courts  as  the  godfather  of  the  Act  for  the  protection  of  the  ■  ^ 

British  PVbrkf/ian.  i 

'T~^HE  house,  garden   and   pleasure-grounds  (at   Hartrigge,  in 

■^       Roxburghshire)  were  in  a  sad  state  of  neglect,  the  former  i 
laird  having  been  in  embarrassed  circumstances.     I  began  with 

some   zeal   to   repair  and  improve.      I  am  a  decided  lover  of  < 

London  life,  admiring  the  saying  of  the  old  Duke  of  Queensberry,  ',, 

who  still  sticking  to  his  house  in  Piccadilly  in  the  month  of  '. 

September,  and   being  asked  whether   the  town  was  not   now  ;■ 

rather  empty,  replied,  'Yes,  but  the  country  is  much  emptier.'  |^ 

Nevertheless,  I  am  by  no  means  insensible  to   the  beauties  of  1. 

nature,  and  although  I  could  not  write  a  treatise  De  Utilitate  \ 

Stercorandi,  and  most  of  the  rural  occupations  enumerated   by  ; 
Cicero  in  his  De  Senectute  are  much  above  me,   I  have  great 

delight  in  gardening.      I    have   even  a   little  farm   in  my  own  i 

hands,  and  my  heart   swells    within   me  when   my   turnips   are  ' 

praised  as  the  most  luxuriant,  and  my  stooks  are  declared  to  be  I 

the   most   crowded   to   be   seen   in   Teviotdale. — Life   of  J^ord  \ 
;  Campbell,  by  his  daughter,  the  Hon.  Mrs  Hardcastle. 


— M/VV- — 


IT  is  in  society  as  in  nature — not  the  useful,  but  the  ornamental,  SIR 
that  strikes  the  imagination.  DAVY*^^^ 

The  monstrous  flower,  which  produces  nothing,  arrests  the  eye;  (1778-1829). 
the  modest  and  humble  germ  of  the  grain,  the  staff  of  human 


248  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

life,  is  passed  by  with  neglect :  but  the  one  is  the  fancy  of  the 
florist,  and  fades,  and  dies,  and  disappears  for  ever ;  the  other 
is  propagated  from  generation  to  generation,  eternal  in  its  use. 

To  raise  a  chestnut  on  the  mountain,  or  a  palm  in  the  plain, 
which  may  afford  shade,  shelter,  and  fruit  for  generations  yet 
unborn,  and  which,  if  they  have  once  fixed  their  roots,  require 
no  culture,  is  better  than  to  raise  annual  flowers  in  a  garden, 
which  must  be  watered  daily,  and  in  which  a  cold  wind  may 
chill  or  too  ardent  a  sunshine  may  dry. — Extracts  from  his  Note- 
Books. 

WASHINGTON  HTHE  taste  of  the  English  in  the  cultivation  of  land,  and  in 
^^^^^G  1       what   is   called   landscape-gardening,  is   unrivalled.     They 

have  studied  nature  intently,  and  discover  an  exquisite  sense  of 
her  beautiful  forms  and  harmonious  combinations. 

Those  charms,  which  in  other  countries  she  lavishes  in  wild 
solitudes,  are  here  assembled  round  the  haunts  of  domestic  life. 
They  seem  to  have  caught  her  coy  and  furtive  graces,  and  spread 
them,  like  witchery,  about  their  rural  abodes. 

Nothing  can  be  more  imposing  than  the  magnificence  of 
English  park  scenery.  Vast  lawns  that  extend  like  sheets  of 
vivid  green,  with  here  and  there  clumps  of  gigantic  trees,  heaping 
up  rich  piles  of  foliage  ;  the  solemn  pomp  of  groves  and  woodland 
glades,  with  the  deer  trooping  in  silent  herds  across  them  ;  the 
hare,  bounding  away  to  the  covert ;  or  the  pheasant,  suddenly 
bursting  upon  the  wing :  the  brook,  taught  to  wind  in  natural 
meanderings,  or  expand  into  a  glassy  lake  :  the  sequestered  pool, 
reflecting  the  quivering  trees,  with  the  yellow  leaf  sleeping  on  its 
bosom,  and  the  trout  roaming  fearlessly  about  its  limpid  waters, 
while  some  rustic  temple  or  sylvan  statue,  grown  green  and  dark 
with  age,  gives  an  air  of  classic  sanctity  to  the  seclusion. 

These  are  but  a  few  of  the  features  of  park  scenery  ;  but  what 
most  delights  me  is  the  creative  talent  with  which  the  English 


LEIGH  HUNT  249 

decorate  the  unostentatious  abodes  of  middle  life.     The  rudest  ^ 

habitation,  the  most  unpromising  and  scanty  portion  of  land,  in  1 

the  hands  of  an  Englishman  of  taste,  becomes  a  little  paradise.  1 

With  a  nicely  discriminating  eye,  he  seizes  at  once  upon  its 

capabilities,  and  pictures  in  his  mind  the  future  landscape.     The  , 

sterile   spot  grows  into  loveliness  under  his  hand  ;  and  yet  the  ^ 
operations  of  art  which   produce  the   effect  are  scarcely   to   be 

perceived.     The    cherishing   and    training   of  some   trees ;   the  \ 

cautious  pruning  of  others  ;  the  nice  distribution  of  flowers  and  ); 

plants  of  tender  and  graceful  foliage  ;  the  introduction  of  a  green  ii 

slope   of  velvet   turf;   the   partial   opening   to    a  peep   of  blue  f 

distance,  or  silver  gleam  of  water :  all  these  are  managed  with  a  ■;[ 

delicate    tact,  a   pervading   yet    quiet  assiduity,  like   the  magic  [ 

touchings  with  which  a  painter  finishes  up  a  favourite  picture. —  ) . 

TAe  Sketch  Book  {^  Rural  Life  in  England^)  ' 

Describing  his  two  years'"  imprisonnient  in  the  Kings  Bench  for  'libelling''  LEIGH  '' 
the  Prince  Regent  as  an  '  Adonis  of  Fifty,'  writes  : —                                                  HUNT 


OUT  I  had  another  surprise,  which  was  a  garden.  There  was  a 
^  little  yard  outside,  railed  off  from  another  belonging  to  the 
neighbouring  ward.  This  yard  I  shut  in  with  green  palings, 
adorned  it  with  a  trellis,  bordered  it  with  a  thick  bed  of  earth 
from  a  nursery,  and  even  contrived  to  have  a  grass-plot.  The 
earth  I  filled  with  flowers  and  young  trees.  There  was  an  apple- 
tree  from  which  we  managed  to  get  a  pudding  the  second  year. 
As  to  my  flowers  they  were  allowed  to  be  perfect.  A  poet  from 
Derbyshire  (Mr  Moore)  told  me  he  had  seen  no  such  heartsease. 
I  bought  the  Pariiaso  Italiatio  while  in  prison,  and  used  often  to 
think  of  a  passage  in  it,  while  looking  at  this  miniature  piece  of 
horticulture  : — 

Mio  picciol  orto, 
A  me  sei  vigna,  e  campo,  e  silva,  e  prato. 

—Baldi. 

My  little  garden, 
To  me  thou'rt  vineyard,  field,  and  wood,  and  meadow. 


;i784-i859). 


250  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Here  I  wrote  and  read  in  fine  weather,  sometimes  under  an 
awning.  In  autumn  my  trellises  were  hung  with  scarlet-runners, 
which  added  to  the  flowery  investment.  I  used  to  shut  my  eyes 
in  my  arm-chair,  and  affect  to  think  myself  hundreds  of  miles  off. 
But  my  triumph  was  in  issuing  forth  of  a  morning.  A  wicket 
out  of  the  garden  led  into  the  large  one  belonging  to  the  prison. 
The  latter  was  only  for  vegetables,  but  it  contained  a  cherry-tree, 
which  I  twice  saw  in  blossom. — Lord  Byroti,  and  sovie  of  his 
Contemporaries. 

Variations  of  flowers  are  like  variations  in  music,  often  beauti- 
ful as  such,  but  almost  always  inferior  to  the  theme  on  which 
they  are  founded — the  original  air.  And  the  rule  holds  good 
in  beds  of  flowers,  if  they  be  not  very  large,  or  in  any  other 
small  assemblage  of  them.  Nay,  the  largest  bed  will  look  well, 
if  of  one  beautiful  colour ;  while  the  most  beautiful  varieties  may 
be  inharmoniously  mixed  up.  Contrast  is  a  good  thing,  but  we 
should  first  get  a  good  sense  of  the  thing  to  be  contrasted,  and 
we  shall  find  this  preferable  to  the  contrast,  if  we  are  not  rich 
enough  to  have  both  in  due  measure.  We  do  not  in  general 
love  and  honour  any  one  single  colour  enough,  and  we  are 
instinctively  struck  with  a  conviction  to  this  effect  when  we 
see  it  abundantly  set  forth.  The  other  day  we  saw  a  little 
garden-wall  completely  covered  with  nasturtiums,  and  felt  how 
much  more  beautiful  it  was  than  if  anything  had  been  mixed 
with  it.  For  the  leaves,  and  the  light  and  shade,  offer  variety 
enough.  The  rest  is  all  richness  and  simplicity  united — which 
is  the  triumph  of  an  intense  perception.  Embower  a  cottage 
thickly  and  completely  with  nothing  but  roses,  and  nobody 
would  desire  the  interference  of  another  plant. — The  Seer  ('  A 
Flower  for  your   Window  '). 

JOHN  A  ND  thus  it  is,  that  to  us  all  gardens  are  beautiful — and  all 

WILSON   r\     gardeners  Adam's  favourite  sons.     An  orchard  !     Families 

( Christopher     r  r     •  ,  i  ■    i       i  ■,  ^  •         ,         t     i  i       ^i     i 

North)  oi  fruit-trees  '  high  planted  by  a  river,  and  that  river  the  Clyde. 

(1785-1854).      Till  we  gazed  on  you,  we  knew  not  how  dazzling  may  be  the 


JOHN  WILSON  251 

delicate  spring,  even  more  than  the  gorgeous  autumn  with  all 
her  purple  and  gold.  No  frost  can  wither,  no  blast  can  scatter 
such  a  power  of  blossoming  as  there  brightens  the  day  with 
promise  that  the  gladdened  heart  may  not  for  a  moment  doubt 
will  be  fulfilled  !  And  now  we  walk  arm  in  arm  with  a  venerable 
lady  along  a  terrace  hung  high  above  a  river — but  between  us 
and  the  brink  of  the  precipice  a  leafless  lawn — not  of  grass,  but 
of  moss,  whereon  centuries  seem  softly  embedded — and  lo  !  we 
are  looking — to  the  right  down  down  the  glen,  and  to  the  left 
up  up  the  glen — though  to  the  left  it  takes  a  majestic  bend,  so 
that  yonder  castle,  seemingly  almost  in  front  of  us,  stands  on  one 
of  its  cliffs — now  we  are  looking  over  the  top  of  holly-hedges 
twenty  feet  high,  and  over  the  stately  yew-pawns  and  peacocks — 
but  hark  !  the  flesh-and-blood  peacock  shrieking  from  the  pine  ! 
An  old  English  garden — such  as  Bacon,  or  Evelyn  or  Cowley 
would  have  loved — felicitously  placed,  with  all  its  solemn  calm, 
above  the  reach  of  the  roar  of  a  Scottish  Flood  ! 

But  we  shall  not  permit  the  visions  of  gardens  thus  to  steady 
themselves  before  our  imagination  ;  and,  since  come  they  will, 
away  must  they  pass  like  magic  shadows  on  a  sheet.  There 
you  keep  gliding  in  hundreds  along  with  your  old  English  halls, 
or  rectories,  or  parsonages — some,  alas  I  looking  dilapidated  and 
forlorn,  but  few  in  ruins,  and  thank  heaven  !  many  of  you  in  the 
decay  of  time  renewed  by  love,  and  many  more  still  fresh  and 
strong,  though  breathing  of  antiquity,  as  when  there  was  not 
one  leaf  of  all  that  mass  of  ivy  in  which  the  highest  chimneys 
are  swathed  and  buried  all  the  gables. — Oh  !  stay  but  for  one 
moment  longer,  thou  garden  of  the  cliffs  !  Gone  by !  with  all 
thine  imagery,  half-garden  and  half-forest — reflected  in  thine  own 
tarn — and  with  thee  a  gUmmer  of  green  mountains  and  of  dusky 
woods !  Sweet  visionary  shadow  of  the  poor  man's  cot  and 
garden  !  A  blessing  be  upon  thee,  almost  on  the  edge  of  the 
bleak  moor  ! — But  villages,  and  towns,  and  cities  travel  by  mistily, 
carrying  before  our  ken  many  a  green  series  of  little  rural  or 
suburban  gardens,  all  cultivated  by  owners'  or  tenants'  hands, 
and  beneath   the   blossomed   fruit-trees,  the   ground   variegated 


252  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

with  many  a  flush  of  flowers. — What  pinks !  Aye,  we  know 
them  well — the  beautiful  garden  plats  on  the  banks  and  braes  all 
round  about  our  native  town,  pretty  Paisley — and  in  among  the 
very  houses  in  nooks  and  corners  which  the  sunshine  does  not 
scorn  to  visit — and  as  the  glamour  goes  by,  sweet  to  our  soul 
is  the  thought  of  the  Kilbarchan,  the  loveliest  flower  in  heaven 
or  on  earth — for  'tis  the  prize  pink  of  our  childhood,  given  us 
by  our  Father's  hand,  and  we  see  now  the  spot  where  the  fine- 
grained glory  grew. — Loudon  on  the  Education  of  Gardeners. 
{Blackwood's  Magazine,   1834.) 

THOMAS  Friend  of  Shelley ;  for  thirty-seven  years  clerk  to  the  East  India  Company  ; 

LOVE  tiiarried  the  "■  Beauty  of  Carnarvonshire,^  and  wrote  the  poem  ^  Rhododaphne,' 

PEACOCK    ^„^/  fijg  satyrical  novels  ^  Headlom^  Hall,''  '  Nitrhtmare  Abbey,'  and  '  Crotchet 

]\/fR  MILESTONE} — This,  you  perceive,  is  the  natural  state 
of  one  part  of  the  grounds.  Here  is  a  wood,  never  yet 
touched  by  the  finger  of  taste ;  thick,  intricate,  gloomy.  Here 
is  a  little  stream,  dashing  from  stone  to  stone,  and  overshadowed 
with  these  untrimmed  boughs. 

Miss  Tenorina. — The  sweet  romantic  spot !  How  beautifully 
the  birds  must  sing  there  on  a  summer  evening  ! 

Miss  Graziosa.— Dear  sister  !  How  can  you  endure  the  horrid 
thicket  ? 

Afr  Milestotie. — You  are  right,  Miss  Graziosa ;  your  taste  is 
correct,  perfectly  en  regie.  Now,  here  is  the  same  place  corrected 
— trimmed — polished — decorated — adorned.  Here  sweeps  a 
plantation,  in  that  beautiful  regular  curve  ;  there  winds  a  gravel 
walk;  here  are  parts  of  the  old  wood,  left  in  these  majestic 
circular  clumps,  disposed  at  equal  distances  with  wonderful 
symmetry  ;  there  are  some  singular  shrubs  scattered  in  elegant 
profusion  ;  here  a  Portugal  laurel,  there  a  juniper ;  here  a  laurus- 
tinus,  there  a  spruce  fir ;   here  a  larch,   there  a  lilac ;   here  a 

^  Possibly  a  caricature  of  '  Capability  '  Brown  or  of  Humphry  Repton. 


LORD  BYRON  253 

rhododendron,  there  an  arbutus.  The  stream,  you  see,  is  become 
a  canal :  the  banks  are  perfectly  smooth  and  green,  sloping  to 
the  water's  edge  :  and  there  is  Lord  Littlebrain,  rowing  in  an 
elegant  boat. 

Squire  Headlong. — Magical,  faith  ! 

Mr  Miltstone. — Here  is  another  part  of  the  ground  in  its 
natural  state.  Here  is  a  large  rock,  with  the  mountain-ash 
rooted  in  its  fissures,  over-grown,  as  you  see,  with  ivy  and  moss, 
and  from  this  part  of  it  bursts  a  little  fountain,  that  runs  bubbling 
down  its  rugged  sides. 

Miss  Tenorina. — O  how  beautiful !  How  I  should  love  the 
melody  of  that  miniature  cascade  ! 

Mr  Milestone. — Beautiful,  Miss  Tenorina !  Hideous.  Base, 
common,  and  popular.  Such  a  thing  as  you  may  see  anywhere, 
in  wild  and  mountainous  districts.  Now,  observe  the  meta- 
morphosis. Here  is  the  same  rock,  cut  into  the  shape  of  a 
giant.  In  one  hand  he  holds  a  horn,  through  which  the  little 
fountain  is  thrown  to  a  prodigious  elevation.  In  the  other  is 
a  ponderous  stone,  so  exactly  balanced  as  to  be  apparently  ready 
to  fall  on  the  head  of  any  person  who  may  happen  to  be  beneath, 
and  there  is  Lord  Littlebrain  walking  under  it. 

Squire  Headlong. — Miraculous,  by  Mahomet ! — Headlong  Hall. 

— 'AAA/''— 

T  HAVE  sent  for  my  daughter  from  Venice,  and  I  ride  daily  and  LORD 

-^     walk  in  a  garden,  under  a  purple  canopy  of  grapes,  and  sit  by  /    ^^  <r 

a  fountain,  and  talk  with  the  gardener  of  his  tools,  which  seem 

greater  than  Adam's,  and  with  his  wife,  and  with  his  son's  wife, 

who  is  the  youngest  of  the  party,  and,  I  think,  talks  best  of  the  j 

three. — Letter  to  Mr  Murray.     Bologna,  Aug.  24,  18 19.  ' 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  after  all  this  outcry  about  '  indoor 
nature,'  and  'artificial  images,'  Pope  was  the  principal  inventor  of  '  \ 

that  boast  of  the  English,  Modern  Gardening.     He  divides  this  ^  ] 

honour  with  Milton.  .  .  .  His  various  excellence  is  really  wonder-  ; 

ful :  architecture,  painting,  gardening,  are  all  alike  subject  to  his  I 


254  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

genius.  Be  it  remembered,  that  English  gardefiing  is  the  purposed 
perfectioning  of  niggard  Nature,  and  that  without  it  England  is 
but  a  hedge-and-ditch,  double-post-and-rail,  Hounslow-heath  and 
Clapham-common  sort  of  a  country,  since  the  principal  forests 
have  been  felled.  It  is  in  general  far  from  a  picturesque  country. 
— Moore^s  *  Notices  of  the  Life  of  Lord  Byron,''  182 1. 

ARTHUR     X/ET   how  aesthetic    is    nature!     Every   spot   that   is    entirely 
^J^RKF"^  uncultivated   and   wild,    i.e.,   left  free  to  himself,   however 

(1788-1860).  small  it  may  be,  if  only  the  hand  of  man  remains  absent,  it 
decorates  at  once  in  the  most  tasteful  manner,  clothes  it  with 
plants,  flowers  and  shrubs,  whose  unforced  nature,  natural  grace, 
and  tasteful  grouping,  bear  witness  that  they  have  not  grown  up 
under  the  rod  of  correction  of  the  great  egoist,  but  that  nature 
has  here  moved  freely.  Every  neglected  plant  at  once  becomes 
beautiful.  Upon  this  rests  the  principle  of  the  English  garden, 
which  is  as  much  as  possible  to  conceal  art,  so  that  it  may  appear 
as  if  nature  had  here  moved  freely ;  for  only  then  is  it  perfectly- 
beautiful,  i.e.,  shows  in  the  greatest  distinctness  the  objectivication 
of  the  still  unconscious  will  to  live,  which  here  unfolds  itself  with 
the  greatest  naivete,  because  the  forms  are  not,  as  in  the  animal 
world,  determined  by  external  ends,  but  only  immediately  by  the 
soil,  climate,  and  a  mysterious  third  influence,  on  account  of  which 
so  many  plants  which  have  originally  sprung  up  in  the  same  soil 
and  climate  yet  show  such  different  forms  and  characters. 

The  great  difference  between  the  English,  or  more  correctly 
the  Chinese,  garden  and  the  old  French,  which  is  now  always 
becoming  more  rare,  yet  still  exists  in  a  few  magnificent  examples, 
ultimately  rests  upon  the  fact  that  the  former  is  planned  in  an 
objective  spirit,  the  latter  in  a  subjective.  In  the  former  the  will 
of  nature,  as  it  objectifies  itself  in  tree  and  shrub,  mountain  and 
waterfall,  is  brought. to  the  purest  possible  expression  of  these  its 
Ideas,  thus  of  its  own  inner  being.  In  the  French  garden,  on  the 
other  hand,  only  the  will  of  the  possessor  of  it  is  mirrored,  which 


ALPHONSE  DE  LAMARTINE  255 

has  subdued  nature,  so  that  instead  of  its  Ideas  it  bears  as  tokens 
of  its  slavery  the  forms  which  correspond  to  that  will,  and  which 
are  forcibly  imposed  upon  it — clipped  hedges,  trees  cut  into  all 
kinds  of  forms,  straight  alleys,  aud  arched  avenues. — Arthur 
Schopenhauer,  '  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea  '  (Isolated  Remarks 
on  Natural  Beauty). 

— A/\/V\r» — 

T^T  in  Arcadia  Ego  !      '  I,  too,  have  been  a  gardener' !     Yes,  ALPHONSE 

I,  too,  have  had  as  my  first  cradle  a  little  rustic  garden,  PFmartimp  i 

hemmed  in  by  a  wall  of  unmortared  stones,  upon  one  of  those  (1790-1S69). 
parched  and  sombre  hills  which  you  see  from  here  to  the  limits  .| 

of  your  horizon  ;    there  were  to  be  found  (for  the  more  than  | 

modest  mediocrity  of  my  father's  fortune  did  not  allow  it)  neither 
vast  tracts,  nor  majestic  shade,  nor  gushing  waters,  nor  rare 
flowers,  nor  precious  fruits,  nor  costly  plants ;  a  few  narrow 
alleys  strewn  with  red  sand,  edged  with  wild  carnations,  violets  , 

and  primroses,  and  bordering  plots  of  vegetables  for  the  nurture  i 

of  the  family.     Well,  there,  and  not  in  the  gardens  of  Italy  or  of 

the  great  proprietors  of  the  parks  of  France,  Germany,  or  England,  ^ 

I  have  experienced  the  first  and  most  poignant  delights  that  it  is 

given  to  Nature  to  inspire  in  a  soul,  in  a  child's  or  youth's  imagina-  ^  ■ 

tion.     I  dwell  now  in  gardens  vaster  and  more  artistically  planted  1 

but  I  have  kept  my  predilection  for  that  one.     I  keep  it  as  a 

precious  possession,  in  its  ancient  poverty  of  shade,  water,  flowers,  j 

and  fruits;  and  when  I  have  a  few  rare  hours  of  liberty  and  solitude  1 

snatched  from  public  affairs  or  labours  of  the  mind  to  give  to 

vague  self-communings,  it  is  to  this  garden  I  go  to  spend  them.  ; 

Yes,  in   this  poor  enclosure,  long   since   deserted,   emptied  by 

death ;    in    these   alleys   overrun   by  weeds,  by   moss,  and   the  \ 

pinks  from  the  beds  under  those  old  trunks  drained  of  sap,  but  ,'j 

not  of  souvenirs — on  this  unraked  sand,  my  eye  still  seeks  the  A 

footprints  of  my  mother,  of  my  sisters,  old  friends,  old  servants 
of  the  family,  and  I  go  and  sit  under  the  fence  opposite  the  house, 
which  is  buried  year  by  year  deeper  under  the  ivy,  beneath  the  i 


256  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

rays  of  the  setting  sun  to  the  hum  of  insects,  the  sound  of  the 
lizards  of  the  old  wall,  whom  I  seem  to  recognise  as  old  garden 
guests,  and  to  whom  it  seems  I  might  gossip  about  old  times. — 
An  Address  to  Gardeners. 

— A/\/\/V^ — 


PERCY         \A/^  ^^^^  ^^  palace  and  gardens  of  Versailles  and  le  Grand 
^^^f  ^^  '       et  Petit  Trianon.      They  surpass  Fontainebleau.      The 

(1792-1822).  gardens  are  full  of  statues,  vases,  fountains,  and  colonnades.  In 
all  that  essentially  belongs  to  a  garden  they  are  extraordinarily 
deficient.  The  orangery  is  a  stupid  piece  of  expense.  There 
was  one  orange-tree  not  apparently  so  old,  sown  in  1442.  We 
saw  also  the  gardens  and  the  theatre  at  the  Petit  Trianon.  The 
gardens  are  in  the  English  taste  and  extremely  pretty. — Journal 
{Sept.  3,  18 1 6). 

This  shore  of  the  Lake  (Como)  is  one  continued  village,  and 
the  Milanese  nobility  have  their  villas  here.  The  union  of 
culture  and  the  untameable  profusion  and  loveliness  of  nature 
is  here  so  close,  that  the  line  where  they  are  divided  can  hardly 
be  discovered.  But  the  finest  scenery  is  that  of  the  Villa 
Pliniana ;  so  called  from  a  fountain  which  ebbs  and  flows  every 
three  hours,  described  by  the  younger  Pliny,  which  is  in  the 
court-yard. 

This  house,  which  was  once  a  magnificent  palace  and  is  now 
half  in  ruins,  we  are  endeavouring  to  procure.  It  is  built  upon 
terraces  raised  from  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  together  with  its 
garden  at  the  foot  of  a  semi-circular  precipice,  overshadowed  by 
profound  forests  of  chestnut. 

The  scene  from  the  colonnade  is  the  most  extraordinary,  at 
once,  and  the  most  lovely  that  eye  ever  beheld.  On  one  side 
is  the  mountain,  and  immediately  over  you  are  clusters  of  cypress- 
trees  of  an  astonishing  height,  which  seem  to  pierce  the  sky. 
Above  you,  from  among  the  clouds,  as  it  were,  descends  a  water- 
fall of  immense  size,  broken  by  the  woody  rocks  into  a  thousand 


THOMAS  ARNOLD  257 

channels  to  the  lake.  On  the  other  side  is  seen  the  blue  extent 
of  the  lake  and  the  mountains,  speckled  with  sails  and  spires. 
The  apartments  of  the  Phniana  are  immensely  large,  but  ill- 
furnished  and  antique.  The  terraces  which  overlook  the  lake, 
and  conduct  under  the  shade  of  such  immense  laurel-trees  as 
deserve  the  epithet  of  Pythian,  are  most  delightful. — Letters  from 
Italy.     To  T.  L.  Peacock.     {Milan,  April  20,  18 18.) 

In  Rome,  at  least  in  the  first  enthusiasm  of  your  recognition  of 
ancient  time,  you  see  nothing  of  the  Itahans.  The  nature  of  the 
city  assists  the  delusion,  for  its  vast  and  antique  walls  describe  a 
circumference  of  sixteen  miles,  and  thus  the  population  is  thinly 
scattered  over  this  place,  nearly  as  great  as  London.  Wide,  wild 
fields  are  enclosed  within  it,  and  there  are  grassy  lanes  and  copses 
winding  among  the  ruins,  and  a  great  green  hill,  lonely  and  bare, 
which  overhangs  the  Tiber.  The  gardens  of  the  modern  palaces 
are  like  wild  woods  of  cedar,  and  cypress,  and  pine,  and  the 
neglected  walks  are  overgrown  with  weeds.  The  English  burying- 
place  is  a  green  slope  near  the  walls,  under  the  pyramidal  tomb  of 
Cestius,  and  is,  I  think,  the  most  beautiful  and  solemn  cemetery 
I  ever  beheld.  To  see  the  sun  shining  on  its  bright  grass,  fresh, 
when  we  first  visited  it,  with  the  autumnal  dews,  and  hear  the 
whispering  of  the  wind  among  the  leaves  of  the  trees  which  have 
overgrown  the  tomb  of  Cestius,  and  the  soil  which  is  stirring  in 
the  sun-warm  earth,  and  to  mark  the  tombs,  mostly  of  women  and 
young  people  who  were  buried  there,  one  might,  if  one  were  to 
die,  desire  the  sleep  they  seem  to  sleep.  Such  is  the  human 
mind,  and  so  it  peoples  with  its  wishes  vacancy  and  oblivion. — 
Ibid.     {Naples,  Dec.  22,  1818.) 


A  S  it  is,  my  garden  claims  a  good  portion  of  my  spare  time  in  THOMAS 
■'*■  the  middle  of  the  day,  when  I  am  not  engaged  at  home  or  ARNOLD 
taking  a  walk;  there  is  always  something  to  interest  me  even  in     '^^"'  '^^'' 

R 


258  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

the  very  sight  of  the  weeds  and  litter,  for  then  I  think  how  much 
improved  the  place  will  be  when  they  are  removed ;  and  it  is  very 
delightful  to  watch  the  progress  of  any  work  of  this  sort,  and 
observe  the  gradual  change  from  disorder  and  neglect  to  neatness 
and  finish.  In  the  course  of  the  autumn  I  have  done  much  in 
planting  and  altering,  but  these  labours  are  now  over,  and  I  have 
now  only  to  hope  for  a  mild  winter  as  far  as  the  shrubs  are  con- 
cerned, that  they  may  not  all  be  dead  when  the  Spring  comes. — 
Letter  to  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.,  Laleham.     Nov.  29,  18 19. 


— -/\A/Vv— 


WILLIAM  'T^HE  reader  need  hardly  be  reminded  that  in  the  early  periods 
WHEWELL  1  Qf  man's  mental  culture,  he  acquires  those  opinions  on 
which  he  loves  to  dwell,  not  by  the  exercise  of  observation  sub- 
ordinate to  reason ;  but,  far  more,  by  his  fancy  and  his  emotions, 
his  love  of  the  marvellous,  his  hopes  and  fears.  It  cannot 
surprise  us,  therefore,  that  the  earliest  lore  concerning  plants, 
which  we  discovered  in  the  records  of  the  past,  consists  of  mytho- 
logical legends,  marvellous  relations,  and  extraordinary  medicinal 
qualities.  To  the  lively  fancy  of  the  Greeks,  the  Narcissus,  which 
bends  its  head  over  the  stream,  was  originally  a  youth  who  in  such 
an  attitude,  became  enamoured  of  his  own  beauty ;  the  hyacinth, ^ 
on  whose  petals  the  notes  of  grief  were  traced  (AI,  AI,),-  recorded 
the  sorrow  of  Apollo  for  the  death  of  his  favourite  Hyacinthus ; 
the  beautiful  Lotus  of  India,^  which  floats  with  its  splendid  flower 
on  the  surface  of  the  water,  is  the  chosen  seat  of  the  goddess 
Lackshmi,  the  daughter  of  Ocean.'^  In  Egypt,  too,^  Osiris  swam 
on  a  lotus-leaf,  and  Harpocrates  was  cradled  in  one.     The  lotus- 

^  Lilium  Martagon. 

^  al,  at :  the  Greek  expression  of  woe. 

Ipse  suos  gemitus  foliis  inscribit  et  AI,  AI, 

Flor  habet  inscriptum  funestaque  litera  ducta  est. — Ovid. 

^  Nelumbium  Speciosum. 

•*  Sprengel,  Geschichte  der  Botanik,  i.  27.  ^  Ibid.  i.  28. 


HENRI  HEINE  259 

eaters  of  Homer  lost  immediately  their  love  of  home. — History 
of  the  Inductive  Sciences. 

-^vAAA/'' — 

A  ND  from  my  heart  poured  out  the  feeling  of  love  ;  it  poured  HENRI 
■'*■  forth  with  wild  longing  into  the  broad  night.  The  flowers  f^^^^Fz-v 
in  the  garden  beneath  my  window  breathed  a  stronger  perfume. 
Perfumes  are  the  feelings  of  flowers,  and  as  the  human  heart  feels 
most  powerful  emotions  in  the  night,  when  it  believes  itself  to  be 
alone  and  unperceived,  so  also  do  the  flowers,  soft-minded,  yet 
ashamed,  appear  to  await  for  concealing  darkness,  that  they  may 
giv-e  themselves  wholly  up  to  their  feelings,  and  breathe  them  out 
in  sweet  odours.^  Pour  forth,  ye  perfumes  of  my  heart,  and  seek 
beyond  yon  blue  mountain  for  the  loved  one  of  my  dreams. — 
Pictures  of  Travel:  The  Hartz  Journey.  {Translated  by  Charles 
Godfrey  Leland.) 

When  I  think  of  the  great  Emperor,  all  in  my  memory  again 
becomes  summer-green  and  golden.  A  long  avenue  of  lindens 
rises  blooming  around,  on  the  leafy  twigs  sit  singing  nightingales, 
the  water-fall  rustles,  flowers  are  growing  from  full  round  beds, 
dreamily  nodding  their  fair  heads — I  stood  amidst  them  once  in 
wondrous  intimacy,  the  rouged  tulips  proud  as  beggars,  con- 
descendingly greeted  me,  the  nervous  sick  lilies  nodded  with 
woeful  tenderness,  the  tipsy  red  roses  nodded  at  me  at  first  sight 
from  a  distance,  the  night-violets  sighed — with  the  myrtle  and 
laurel  I  was  not  then  acquainted,  for  they  did  not  entice  me  with 
a  shining  bloom,  but  the  reseda,  with  whom  I  am  now  on  such 
bad  terms,  was  my  very  particular  friend. — I  am  speaking  of  the 
\  Court  garden  of  Dusseldorf,  where  I  often  lay  upon  the  bank  and 
piously  listened  there  when  Monsieur  Le  Grand  told  of  the 
warlike  feats  of  the  great  Emperor,  beating  meanwhile  the  marches 
which  were  drummed  during  the  deeds,  so  that  I  saw  and  heard 
all  to  the  life. — Ideas.     Book  Le  Grand.     (C.  G.  Leland.) 

^  '  Les  odeurs  sont  comme  les  ames  des  fleurs  :  elles  peuvent  etre  sensibles 
dans  le  pays  meme  des  ombxQS.'—/.  Joubert. 


26o  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

AMOS  '"pHUS    we   associate   gardens  and    orchards  with  the  perfect 

AT^rn-Tx^  condition  of  mankind.     Gardeners  ourselves  by  birthright, 

(/;.  1799).  we  also  mythologize  and  plant  our  Edens  in  the  East  of  us,  like 
our  ancestors ;  the  sacredness  of  earth  and  heaven  still  clinging 
to  the  tiller  of  the  ground.  Him  we  esteem  the  pattern  man,  the 
most  favoured  of  any.  His  labours  have  a  charming  innocency. 
They  yield  the  gains  of  a  self-respect  denied  to  other  callings. 
His  is  an  occupation  friendly  to  every  virtue ;  the  freest  of  any 
from  covetousness  and  debasing  cares.  It  is  full  of  honest  profits, 
manly  labours,  and  brings  and  administers  all  necessaries  ;  gives 
the  largest  leisure  for  study  and  recreation,  while  it  answers  most 
tenderly  the  hospitalities  of  friendship,  and  the  claims  of  home. 
The  delight  of  children,  the  pastime  of  woman,  the  privilege  of 
the  poor  man,  as  it  is  the  ornament  of  the  gentleman,  the  praise 
of  the  scholar,  the  security  of  the  citizen,  it  places  man  in  his 
truest  relations  to  the  world  in  which  he  lives.  And  he  who  is 
insensible  to  these  pleasures,  must  lack  some  chord  in  the  harp 
of  humanity,  worshipping,  if  he  worship,  at  some  strange  shrine. 

Who  loves  a  garden  still  his  Eden  keeps  ; 

Perennial  pleasures  plants,  and  wholesome  harvests  reaps. 

—  Tablets.     {The  Garden,  /.     Antiquity.) 

Orchards  are  even  more  personal  in  their  charms  than  gardens, 
as  they  are  more  nearly  human  creations.  Ornaments  of  the 
homestead,  they  subordinate  other  features  of  it ;  and  such  is 
their  sway  over  the  landscape  that  house  and  owner  appear 
accidents  without  them.  So  men  delight  to  build  in  an  ancient 
orchard,  when  so  fortunate  as  to  possess  one,  that  they  may  live 
in  the  beauty  of  its  surroundings.  Orchards  are  among  the  most 
coveted  possessions ;  trees  of  ancient  standing,  and  vines,  being 
firm  friends  and  royal  neighbors  for  ever.  The  profits,  too,  are 
as  wonderful  as  their  longevity.  And  if  antiquity  can  add  any 
worth  to  a  thing,  what  possession  has  a  man  more  noble  than 
these  ?  So  unlike  most  others,  which  are  best  at  first,  and  grow 
worse  till  worth  nothing ;  while  fruit-trees  and  vines  increase  in 
worth  and  goodness  for  ages. — {The  Orchard.) 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  261 

'  Thick-growing  thyme,  and  roses  wet  with  dew, 
Are  sacred  to  the  sisterhood  divine. ' 

As  orchards  to  man,  so  are  flowers  and  herbs  to  women. 
Indeed  the  garden  appears  celibate,  as  does  the  house,  without 
womanly  hands  to  plant  and  care  for  it.  Here  she  is  in  place — 
suggests  lovely  images  of  her  personal  accomplishments,  as  if 
civility  were  first  conceived  in  such  cares,  and  retired  unwillingly, 
even  to  houses  and  chambers ;  something  being  taken  from  their 
elegancy  and  her  nobleness  by  an  undue  absorption  of  her 
thoughts  in  household  affairs. 

But  there  is  a  fitness  in  her  association  with  flowers  and  sweet 
herbs,  as  with  social  hospitalities,  showing  her  affinities  with  the 
magical  and  medical,  as  if  she  were  the  plant  AU-Heal,  and  mother 
of  comforts  and  spices.  Once  the  herb-garden  was  a  necessary 
part  of  every  homestead ;  every  country  house  had  one  well 
stocked,  and  there  was  a  matron  inside  skilled  in  their  secret 
virtues,  having  the  knowledge  of  how  her 

*  Herbs  gladly  cure  our  flesh,  because  that  they 
Have  their  acquaintance  there,' 

her  memory  running  back  to  the  old  country  from  whence  they 
first  came,  and  of  which  they  retained  the  fragrance.  Are  not 
their  names  refreshing  ?  with  the  superstitions  concerning  the  sign 
under  which  they  were  to  be  gathered,  the  quaint  spellings  ;  mint, 
roses,  fennel,  coriander,  sweet-cicely,  celandine,  summer  savory, 
smellage,  rosemary,  dill,  caraway,  lavender,  tanzy,  thyme,  balm, 
myrrh ;  these  and  many  more,  and  all  good  for  many  an  ail ; 
sage,  too,  sovereign  sage,  best  of  all — excellent  for  longevity — of 
which  to-day's  stock  seems  running  low — for 

'  Why  should  man  die  ?     So  doth  the  sentence  say, 
^Vhen  sage  grows  in  his  garden  day  by  day  ? ' 

— {Szveet  Herbs.) 

PVERYTHING  has  its  own  perfection,  be  it  higher  or  lower  JOHN 
^     in  the  scale  of  things ;  and  the  perfection  of  one  is  not  the  cardial 
perfection  of  another.     Things  animate,  inanimate,  visible,   in-  NEWMAN 
visible,  all  are  good  in  their  kind,  and  have  a  best  of  themselves,  (i 801 -1890). 


262  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

which  is  an  object  of  pursuit.  Why  do  you  take  such  pains  with 
your  garden  or  your  park?  You  see  to  your  walks,  and  turf,  and 
shrubberies ;  to  your  trees  and  drives  ;  not  as  if  you  meant  to 
make  an  orchard  of  the  one,  or  corn  or  pasture  land  of  the  other, 
but  because  there  is  a  special  beauty  in  all  that  is  goodly  in 
wood,  water,  plain,  and  slope,  brought  all  together  by  art  into 
one  shape,  and  grouped  into  one  whole. — The  Idea  of  a  University. 
{Knowledge  its  own  End.) 

— A/ww— 

VICTOR    nPHOUGHT  is  a  virgin  and  fruitful  soil,  whose  products  insist 

HUGO  I  • 

(1802^188';)  ^'^   growmg   in   freedom,    and,    so    to   speak,    by    chance, 

without  arrangement,  without  being  drilled  into  borders  like 
the  knots  in  one  of  Le  Notre's  classical  gardens,  or  the  flowers 
of  language  in  a  treatise  on  rhetoric. 

Let  it  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  this  freedom  must  beget 
disorder  ;  quite  the  reverse.     Let  us  expand  our  idea. 

Compare  for  an  instant  a  royal  garden  of  Versailles,  well  levelled, 
well  clipped,  well  swept,  well  raked,  well  gravelled,  quite  full  of 
little  cascades,  little  basins,  little  groves,  bronze  tritons  in  cere- 
monious dalliance  with  oceans  pumped  up  at  great  cost  from  the 
Seine,  marble  fauns  wooing  dryads  allegorically  imprisoned  in  a 
multitude  of  conical  yews,  cylindrical  laurels,  spherical  orange- 
trees,  elliptical  myrtles,  and  other  trees,  whose  natural  form,  too 
trivial,  no  doubt,  has  been  gracefully  corrected  by  the  gardener's 
shears ;  compare  this  garden,  so  extolled,  with  a  primitive  forest 
of  the  New  World,  with  its  giant  trees,  its  tall  grasses,  its  deep 
vegetation,  its  thousand  birds  of  a  thousand  hues,  its  broad 
avenues,  where  light  and  shadow  play  only  upon  the  verdure, 
its  wild  harmonies,  its  great  rivers  which  drift  along  islands  of 
flowers,  its  stupendous  waterfalls,  over  which  hover  rainbows  !  We 
will  not  say  where  is  the  magnificence  ?  Where  is  the  grandeur  ? 
Where  is  the  beauty  ?  But  simply :  where  is  the  order  ?  where 
is  the  disorder? 

In  the  one,  fountains,  imprisoned  or  diverted  from  their  course, 
gush  from  petrified  gods,   only  to  stagnate;   trees  transplanted 


EDWARD  BULWER-LYTTON  263 

from  their  native  soil,  torn  away  from  their  chmate  and  forced  to 
submit  to  the  grotesque  caprices  of  the  shears  and  Hne ;  in  a 
word  natural  order  everywhere  contradicted,  inverted,  upset, 
destroyed.  In  the  other,  on  the  contrary,  all  obeys  an  unchange- 
able law ;  in  all  a  God  seems  to  dwell.  Drops  of  water  follow 
their  course  and  form  rivers,  which  will  form  seas :  seeds  choose 
their  soil  and  produce  a  forest.     The  very  bramble  is  beautiful  \l 

there.     Again  we  ask,  where  is  the  order  ? 

Choose,  then,  between  the  masterpiece  of  gardening  and  the  \ 

work  of  nature;  between  what  is  conventionally  beautiful,  and  ; 

what  is  beautiful  without  rule  :   between  an  artificial  literature, 

and  an  origmal  poesy ! — Preface  to  '  Odes  and  Ballads^  (1826).  : 

I 

1 

— aA/W —  \ 

VTOTHING  more  stamps  the  true  Cockney  than  his  hate  for  the  EDWARD 

^^      sound  of  Bow  bells.    It  is  in  vain  that  we  squirearchs  affect  PJ^^}^^^'  \ 

to  sneer  at  the  rural  tastes  of  the  cit  in  his  rood  of  ground  by  the  lytTON  ^ 

high-road   to  Hampstead;   the   aquarium   stored  with  minnows  (1S03- 1873). 

and  tittle-bats  ;  the  rock  work  of  vitrified  clinkers,  rich  with  ferns  ) 

borne  from  Wales  and  the  Highlands.     His  taste  is  not  without 

knowledge.     He  may  tell  us   secrets  in  horticulture  that  would  | 

startle  our  Scotch  gardener;  and  if  ever  he  be  rich  and  bold  ■ 

enough  to  have  a  farm,  the  chances  are  that  he  will  teach  more  > 

than  he  learns  from  the  knowing  ones  who  bet  five  to  one  on 

his  ruin.     And  when  these  fameless  students  of  Nature  ramble  , 

forth  from  the  suburb,  and  get  for  a  while  to  the  real  heart  of  the  I 

country — when,  on  rare  summer  holidays  they  recline,  in  remoto  \ 

gramiiie, — they  need  no  choice  Falernian,  no  unguents  and  brief- 

1  'This  place  of  Lord  Lytton's  (Knebworth)  stands  well  on  a  hill  in  the  : 

pretty  part  of  Hertfordshire.     It  is  a  house  originally  of  Henry  VH.'s  reign,  | 

and  has  been  elaborately  restored.     The  grounds,  too,  are  very  elaborate,  and  ' 

full  of  statues,  kiosks,  and  knick-knacks  of  every  kind.  .  .  .  But,  like  Lord  | 

Lytton  himself,  the  place  is  a  strange  mixture  of  what  is  really  romantic  and  \ 

interesting  with  what  is  tawdry,  and  gimcracky  ;  and  one  is  constantly  coming  ,i 

upon  stucco  for  stone,  and  bits  in  the  taste  of  a  second-rate  Vauxhall  stuck 
down  in  a  beautiful  recess  of  garden.' — Matthew  Arnold :  Letter  to  his 
Mother,  May  12,  1869.  ', 


264  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

lived  roses  for  that  interval  of  full  beatitude  which  the  poet  invites 
his  friend  to  snatch  from  reprieving  fates.  Their  delight  proves 
the  truth  of  my  favourite  aphorism — '  that  our  happiest  moments 
are  those  of  which  the  memories  are  the  most  innocent.' — 
Caxtoniatia. 

DOUGLAS    A  SMALL  quiet  nook  of  a  place  nestled  among  trees,  and  carpeted 
J^^^^^^  ^^^'^  green  around.     And  there  a  brook  should   murmur 

with  a  voice  of  out-door  happiness ;  and  a  little  garden  brim- 
ming over  with  flowers  should  mark  the  days  and  weeks  and 
months,  with  bud  and  blossom ;  and  the  worst  injuries  of  time 
be  fallen  leaves.  And  then,  health  in  balm  should  come  about 
my  path  and  my  mind  be  as  a  part  of  every  fragrant  thing  that 
shone  and  grew  around  me. 

A  garden  is  a  beautiful  book,  writ  by  the  finger  of  God  ;  every 
flower  and  every  leaf  is  a  letter.  You  have  only  to  learn  them 
— and  he  is  a  poor  dunce  that  cannot,  if  he  will,  do  that — to 
learn  them  and  join  them,  and  then  to  go  on  reading  and 
reading,  and  you  will  find  yourself  carried  away  from  the  earth 
to  the  skies  by  the  beautiful  story  you  are  going  through.  You 
do  not  know  what  beautiful  thoughts — for  they  are  nothing  short 
— grow  out  of  the  ground,  and  seem  to  talk  to  a  man.  And  then 
there  are  some  flowers,  they  always  seem  to  me  like  over-dutiful 
children  :  tend  them  ever  so  little,  and  they  come  up  and  flourish, 
and  show,  as  I  may  say,  their  bright  and  happy  faces  to  you. 

—■At\J\tr— 

GEORGE     f    E   nouveau  jardin  vallonne  et  seme  de  corbeilles  de  fleurs 
p^^^  -^     exotiques,  c'est  toujours,  en  somme,  le  petit  Trianon  de  la 

decadence  classique  et  le  jardin  anglais  du  commencement  de  ce 
si^cle,  perfectionnes  en  ce  sens  qu'on  en  a  multiplie  les  mouve- 
ments  et  les  accidents  afin  de  reussir  k  realiser  I'aspect  du 
paysage  naturel  dans  un  espace  limite.  Rien  de  moins  justifie, 
selon   nous,    que    ce    titre    de   jardin  paysager  dont   s'empare 


BENJAMIN  DISRAELI  265 

aujourd'hui  tout  bourgeois  dans  sa  ville  de  province.  Meme, 
dans  les  espaces  plus  vastes  que  Paris  consacre  a  cette  fiction, 
n'esperez  pas  trouver  le  charme  de  la  nature.  Le  plus  petit 
recoin  des  roches  de  Fontainebleau  ou  des  collines  boisees  de 
I'Auvergne,  la  plus  mince  cascatelle  de  Gargilesse,  le  plus  ignore 
des  meandres  de  I'lndre  ont  une  autre  tournure,  une  autre  saveur, 
une  autre  puissance  de  penetration  que  les  plus  somptueuses 
compositions  de  nos  paysagistes  de  Paris  !  si  vous  voulez  voir  le 
jardin,  de  la  creation,  n'allez  pas  au  bout  du  monde.  II  y  en  a 
dix  mille  en  France  dans  des  endroits  011  personne  n'a  affaire  ou 
dont  personne  ne  s'avise.     Cherchez,  vous  trouverez  ! 

Mais  si  vous  voulez  voir  le  jardin  dccoratif  t^zx  excellence,  vous 
I'aurez  a  Paris,  et  disons  bien  vite  que  I'invention  en  est  ravissante. 
C'est  du  decor,  pas  autre  chose,  prenez-en  votre  parti,  mais  du 
decor  adorable  et  merveilleux.  La  science  et  le  gout  s'y  sont 
donne  la  main ;  inclinez-vous,  c'est  un  jeune  menage. — La  Reverie 
a  Paris  {Paris  Guide.     1867.)  ^ 

A  RMINE  PLACE,  before  Sir  Ferdinand,  unfortunately  for  his  BENJAMIN 
-'*•  descendants,  determined  in  the  eighteenth  century  on  build-  ^o^^^'F^^ 
ing  a  feudal  castle,  had  been  situate  in  famous  pleasure-grounds, 
which  extended  at  the  back  of  the  mansion  over  a  space  of  some 
hundred  acres.  The  grounds  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
buildings  had  of  course  suffered  severely,  but  the  far  greater 
portion  had  only  been  neglected ;  and  there  were  some  indeed 
who  deemed,  as  they  wandered  through  the  arbour-walks  of  this 
enchanting  wilderness,  that  its  beauty  had  been  enhanced  even 
by  this  very  neglect.  It  seemed  like  a  forest  in  a  beautiful 
romance ;  a  green  and  bowery  wilderness  where  Boccacio  would 
have  loved  to  woo,  and  Watteau  to  paint.  So  artfully  had  the 
walks  been  planned  that  they  seemed   interminable;    nor  was 

1  Never  before  or  since  has  such  a  constellation  of  the  genius  of  a  whole 
nation  gathered  together  to  produce  such  a  Guide-book,  as  Paris  out-did 
herself  by  publishing  in  1867.  It  is  perhaps  the  highest  achievement  of  the 
Third  Empire. 


266  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

there  a  single  point  in  the  whole  pleasaunce,  where  the  keenest 
eye  could  have  detected  a  limit.  Sometimes  you  wandered  in 
those  arched  and  winding  walks  dear  to  pensive  spirits :  some- 
times you  emerged  on  a  plot  of  turf  blazing  in  the  sunshine,  a 
small  and  bright  savannah,  and  gazed  with  wonder  on  the  group 
of  black  and  mighty  cedars  that  rose  from  its  centre,  with  their 
sharp  and  spreading  foliage.  The  beautiful  and  the  vast  blended 
together ;  and  the  moment  after  you  had  beheld  with  delight  a 
bed  of  geraniums  or  of  myrtles,  you  found  yourself  in  an  amphi- 
theatre of  Italian  pines.  A  strange  exotic  perfume  filled  the  air  ; 
you  trod  on  the  flowers  of  other  lands ;  and  shrubs  and  plants, 
that  usually  are  only  trusted  from  their  conservatories,  like 
Sultanas  from  their  jalousies,  to  sniflf  the  air  and  recall  their 
bloom,  here  learning  from  hardship  the  philosophy  of  endur- 
ance, had  struggled  successfully  even  against  northern  winters,  and 
wantoned  now  in  native  and  unpruned  luxuriance.  Sir  Ferdinand, 
when  he  resided  at  Armine,  was  accustomed  to  fill  these  pleasure- 
grounds  with  macaws,  and  other  birds  of  gorgeous  plumage ;  but 
these  had  fled  away  with  their  master,  all  but  some  swans,  which 
still  floated  on  the  surface  of  a  lake  which  marked  the  centre  of 
this  paradise. — Henrietta  Temple. 

NATHANIEL      '^HESE  gardens  of  New  College  are  indescribably  beautiful, — 
,  o      X-^,  not  gardens  in  our  American  sense,  but  lawns  of  the  richest 

green  and  softest  velvet  grass,  shadowed  over  by  ancient  trees, 
that  have  lived  a  quiet  life  here  for  centuries,  and  have  been 
nursed  and  tended  with  such  care,  and  so  sheltered  from  rude 
winds,  that  certainly  they  must  have  been  the  happiest  of  all 
trees.  Such  a  sweet,  quiet,  sacred,  stately  seclusion — so  age-long 
as  this  has  been,  and,  I  hope,  will  continue  to  be — cannot  exist 
anywhere  else. 

We  concluded  the  rambles  of  the  day  by  visiting  the  gardens 
of  St  John's  College ;  and  I  desire,  if  possible,  to  say  even  more 


NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE  267 

in  admiration  of  them  than  of  those  of  New  College, — such 
beautiful  lawns  with  tall  ancient  trees,  and  heavy  clouds  of 
foliage,  and  sunny  glimpses  through  archways  of  leafy  branches, 
where,  to-day,  we  could  see  parties  of  girls,  making  cheerful 
contrast  with  the  sombre  walls  and  solemn  shade.  The  world, 
surely,  has  not  another  place  like  Oxford ;  it  is  a  despair  to  see 
such  a  place,  and  ever  to  leave  it,  for  it  would  take  a  lifetime, 
and  more  than  one,  to  comprehend  and  enjoy  it  satisfactorily. — 
E7iglish  Note-Books.     {Oxford.^ 

Positively  the  garden  of  Eden  cannot  have  been  more  beautiful 
than  this  private  garden  of  Blenheim.  It  contains  three  hundred 
acres,  and  by  the  artful  circumlocution  of  the  paths,  and  the 
undulations,  and  the  skilfully  interposed  clumps  of  trees,  is  made 
to  appear  limitless.  The  sylvan  delights  of  a  whole  country  are 
compressed  into  this  space,  as  whole  fields  of  Persian  roses  go  to 
the  concoction  of  an  ounce  of  precious  attar.  The  world  within 
that  garden  fence  is  not  the  same  weary  and  dusty  world  with 
which  we  outside  mortals  are  conversant ;  it  is  a  finer,  lovelier, 
more  harmonious  Nature ;  and  the  Great  Mother  lends  herself 
kindly  to  the  gardener's  will,  knowing  that  he  will  make  evident 
the  half-obliterated  traits  of  her  pristine  and  ideal  beaut}',  and 
allow  her  to  take  all  the  credit  and  praise  to  herself  I  doubt 
whether  there  is  ever  any  winter  within  that  precinct,  —  any 
clouds,  except  the  fleecy  ones  of  summer.  The  sunshine  that  I 
saw  there  rests  upon  my  recollection  of  it  as  if  it  were  eternal. 
The  lawns  and  glades  are  like  the  memory  of  places  where  one 
has  wandered  when  first  in  love. — Our  Old  Ho7ne.    {Near  Oxford.) 

My  garden,  that  skirted  the  avenue  of  the  Manse,  was  of  pre- 
cisely the  right  extent.  An  hour  or  two  of  morning  labour  was 
all  that  it  required.  But  I  used  to  visit  and  revisit  it  a  dozen 
times  a  day,  and  stand  in  deep  contemplation  over  my  vegetable 
progeny  with  a  love  that  nobody  could  share  or  conceive  of,  who 
had  never  taken  part  in  the  process  of  creation. 

It  was  one  of  the  most   bewitching   sights  in  the  world   to 


ALPHONSE 
KARR 

(1 808- 1 890). 


268  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

observe  a  hill  of  beans  thrusting  aside  the  soil,  or  a  row  of  early 
peas  just  peeping  forth  sufficiently  to  trace  a  line  of  delicate  green. 
Later  in  the  season  the  humming-birds  were  attracted  by  the 
blossoms  of  a  peculiar  variety  of  bean  ;  and  they  were  a  joy  to  me, 
those  little  spiritual  visitants,  for  deigning  to  sip  airy  food  out  of 
my  nectar-cups.  Multitudes  of  bees  used  to  bury  themselves  in 
the  yellow  blossoms  of  the  summer-squashes.  This,  too,  was  a 
deep  satisfaction  ;  although,  when  they  had  laden  themselves  with 
sweets,  they  flew  away  to  some  unknown  hive,  which  would  give 
back  nothing  in  requital  of  what  my  garden  had  contributed. 
But  I  was  glad  thus  to  fling  a  benefaction  upon  the  passing  breeze 
with  the  certainty  that  somebody  must  profit  by  it;  and  that  there 
would  be  a  little  more  honey  in  the  world  to  allay  the  sourness 
and  bitterness  which  mankind  is  always  complaining  of.  Yes, 
indeed ;  my  life  was  the  sweeter  for  that  honey. — The  Old  Manse} 

/^NE  of  the  chief  charms  I  find  in  a  garden,  is  to  say  to  myself: 
^-^  '  I  am  shut  up,  I  and  my  imagination,  my  body  and  spirit, 
in  a  place  filled  with  flowers,  that  is  to  say,  with  rich  colours, 
dulcet  perfumes,  and  songs  of  birds  (enchanting  harmony,  which 
nothing  can  interrupt),  where  no  one  will  come,  except  a  friend ; 
but  neither  mar-joys,  the  evil-minded,  nor  enemies  can  find 
entrance,  any  more  than  my  spirit  can  issue  forth  to  visit  them. 
I  keep  them  imprisoned  outside  as  I  keep  myself  imprisoned 
within ;  I  create  for  myself  a  part  of  the  earth,  of  the  sky,  of  the 
grass,  and  of  the  flowers,  but  that  part  is  my  own.'  To  do  this,  a 
garden  must  not  be  too  large ;  you  must  feel  yourself  enclosed 
in  it. 

It  may  be  possible  not  to  see  the  walls,  but  you  must  not  forget 
them.  It  seems  as  though  Nature  and  Providence  have  intended 
man  to  surround  himself  with  walls,  by  creating  so  many  beautiful 
plants,  which  hide  and  decorate  them  wondrously,  and  which  are 

^  The  Old  Manse  was  Emerson's  residence  on  the  Concord,  when  he  wrote 
'  Nature.' 


ALPHONSE  KARR  269 

nowhere  so  luxuriant,  so  beautiful,  and  so  happy,  as  when  beam- 
ing upon  and  spreading  over  a  wall. — Letters  tvritteti  from  my 
Garden. 

At  the  bottom  of  my  garden,  the  vine  stretches  in  long  piazzas, 
through  whose  arcades  are  seen  trees  of  every  kind,  and  foliage 
of  every  hue. 

On  this  side  is  an  azerolier,  which  in  the  Fall  is  hung  with 
little  scarlet  berries  of  the  richest  lustre.  I  have  given  several 
cuttings  from  it :  far  from  obtaining  pleasure  from  the  privation 
of  others,  I  strive  to  scatter  and  make  common  and  vulgar  the 
trees  and  plants  which  I  prefer  ;  it  is  to  me,  as  to  those  who 
really  love  flowers  for  their  brilliance,  their  grace,  and  their 
perfume,  a  multiplication  of  pleasure,  and  of  the  chance  of 
seeing  them.  They  who,  on  the  contrary,  are  misers  of  their 
plants,  and  who  only  value  them  in  so  far  as  they  are  satisfied 
no  ane  else  possesses  them,  do  not  love  flowers ;  and  rest 
assured  that  either  accident  or  poverty  has  driven  them  to 
collect  flowers,  instead  of  collecting  pictures,  gems,  or  medals, 
or  in  a  word  any  other  thing  which  might  serve  as  a  pretext 
for  all  the  joys  of  possession,  heightened  by  their  being  owned 
by  no  one  else. 

I  have  carried  the  vulgarization  of  beautiful  flowers  a  step 
further. 

I  go  for  walks  round  about  the  place  where  I  live  into  the 
wildest  and  most  deserted  nooks. 

There,  after  having  properly  prepared  a  few  inches  of  ground, 
I  scatter  the  seeds  of  my  richest  plants,  which  re-sow  themselves, 
are  perpetuated,  and  multiply.  Already,  whilst  the  fields  round 
about  have  only  the  scarlet  wild  poppy,  it  must  surprise  passers- 
by  to  see  in  certain  wild  ingles  of  our  little  country  the  finest 
double  poppies,  white,  rose,  red,  edged  with  white,  etc  ;  and 
the  most  splendid  garden  poppies,  violet,  white,  lilac,  scarlet, 
and  white  tipped  with  scarlet,  etc. ;  at  the  foot  of  a  lonely  tree, 
instead  of  the  bindweed  with  its  white  field-flowers,  are  to  be 
found  here  and  there  patches  of  convolvulus  major,  blue,  violet, 
pink,  white  streaked  with  red  and  violet,  etc. 


270  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Then  I  enjoy  all  alone  and  in  advance  the  pleasures  of 
surprise,  which  the  solitary  dreamer  will  feel,  who  chances 
in  his  walks  upon  these  beautiful  flowers  or  luscious  fruits. 

That  will  one  day  afford  some  learned  botanist,  who  will  go 
and  herborize  thereabouts  a  hundred  years  hence,  long  after  my 
death,  opportunity  to  publish  a  ridiculous  system.  All  these 
beautiful  flowers  will  have  grown  common  in  the  country,  and 
will  give  it  a  quite  unique  look,  and  maybe  chance  and  wind  will 
cast  some  of  their  seeds  amid  the  grass  which  hides  my  lonely 
grave.     Vale. — A  Voyage  round  my  Gardeti. 

— ^V\A^^ 

OLIVER        T  KNOW  this,  that  the  way  Mother  Earth  treats  a  boy  shapes 

Y^^}^J^^h^        out    a    kind    of    natural    theology   for    him.      I    fell    into 

HOLMHS 

(1809- 1894).      Manichean  ways  of  thinkmg  from  the  teaching  of  my  garden 

experiences.  Like  other  boys  in  the  country,  I  had  my  patch 
of  ground,  to  which,  in  the  spring-time,  I  intrusted  the  seeds 
furnished  me,  with  a  confident  trust  in  their  resurrection  and 
glorification  in  the  better  world  of  summer. 

But  I  soon  found  that  my  lines  had  fallen  in  a  place  where  a 
vegetable  growth  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  as  many  foes  and 
trials  as  a  Christian  pilgrim.  Flowers  would  not  blow  ;  daffodils 
perished  like  criminals  in  their  condemned  cups,  without  their 
petals  ever  seeing  daylight ;  roses  were  disfigured  with  monstrous 
protrusions  through  their  very  centres, — something  that  looked 
like  a  second  bud  pushing  through  the  middle  of  the  corolla; 
lettuces  and  cabbages  would  not  head ;  radishes  knotted  them- 
selves until  they  looked  like  centenarian's  fingers  ;  and  on  every 
stem,  on  every  leaf,  and  both  sides  of  it,  and  at  the  root  of  every- 
thing that  grew,  was  a  professional  specialist  in  the  shape  of  a 
gnat,  caterpillar,  aphis,  or  other  expert,  whose  business  it  was 
to  devour  that  particular  part,  and  help  murder  the  whole  attempt 
at  vegetation.  Such  experiences  must  influence  a  child  born  to 
them.  A  sandy  soil,  where  nothing  flourishes  but  weeds  and 
evil  beasts  of  small  dimensions,  must  breed  different  qualities 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  271 

in  its  human  offspring  from  one  of  those  fat  and  fertile  spots 
which  the  wit  whom  I  have  once  before  quoted  described  so 
happily,  that,  if  I  quoted  the  passage,  its  brilliancy  would  spoil 
one  of  my  pages,  as  a  diamond  breastpin  sometimes  kills  the 
social  effect  of  the  wearer,  who  might  have  passed  for  a  gentle- 
man without  it. — The  Poet  at  the  Breakfast  Table. 


N 


— 'AJSJV— 

O  definition  has  spoken  of  the  landscape-gardener  as  of  the  EDGAR 
poet ;  yet  it  seemed  to  my  friend  that  the  creation  of  the  poE 
landscape-garden  offered  to  the  proper  Muse  the  most  magnificent  (1S11-1849). 
of  opportunities. 

-Here,  indeed,  was  the  fairest  field  for  the  display  of  imagination 
in  the  endless  combining  of  forms  of  novel  beauty ;  the  elements 
to  enter  into  combination  being,  by  a  vast  superiority,  the  most 
glorious  which  the  earth  could  afford.  In  the  multiform  and 
multicolour  of  the  flowers  and  the  trees,  he  recognised  the  most 
direct  and  energetic  efforts  of  Nature  at  physical  loveliness.  And 
in  the  direction  or  concentration  of  this  effort — or,  more  properly, 
in  its  adaptation  to  the  eyes,  which  were  to  behold  it  on  earth — 
he  perceived  that  he  should  be  employing  the  best  means — 
labouring  to  the  greatest  advantage — in  the  fulfilment,  not  only 
of  his  own  destiny  as  poet,  but  of  the  august  purposes  for  which 
the  Deity  had  implanted  the  poetic  sentiment  in  man. — The 
Domain  of  Arnheim. 

— f^J\]\h — 

I   A  Chenaie  is  a  sort  of  oasis  in  the  midst  of  the  steppes  of  MAURICE 

^     Brittany.     In  front  of  the   chateau  stretches  a  very  large  P^^_.-. 
,  .  ,  ....  ,    •'        °,GUERIN 

garden  cut  m  two  by  a  terrace  with  a  lime  avenue,  at  the  end  of  (iSii-1839). 

which  is  a  tiny  chapel.     I  am  extremely  fond  of  this  little  oratory, 

where  one  breathes  a  two-fold  peace, — the  peace  of  solitude  and 

the  peace  of  the  Lord.     When  Spring  comes  we  shall  walk  to 

prayers  between  two  borders  of  flowers.     On  the  east  side,  and 

only  a  few  yards  from  the  chateau,  sleeps  a  small  mere  between 


272  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

two  woods,  where  the  birds  in  warm  weather  sing  all  day  long  ; 
and  then, — right,  left,  on  all  sides, — woods,  woods,  everywhere 
woods. — Letter  to  M.  de  Bayne,  Christmas  Day,  1832. 

One  can  actually  see  the  progress  of  the  green  ;  it  has  made  a 
start  from  the  garden  to  the  shrubberies,  it  is  getting  the  upper 
hand  all  along  the  mere ;  it  leaps,  one  may  say,  from  tree  to  tree, 
from  thicket  to  thicket,  in  the  fields  and  on  the  hill-sides  ;  and  I 
can  see  it  already  arrived  at  the  forest  hedge  and  beginning  to 
spread  itself  over  the  broad  back  of  the  forest. — Letters  {tra7islated 
by  Matthew  Arnold.) 

THEOPHILE  QOME  time  ago  we  dreamed  to  plan  a  garden  wherein  Nature 
ofiVTs^fr  should  have  full  liberty.     Never  should  the  bill-hook  cut 

one  branch  in  it,  nor  shears  trim  a  hedge  or  a  border.  The  twigs 
would  have  been  quite  free  to  interlace  themselves  according  to 
their  own  fancy :  the  plants,  to  creep  and  climb ;  the  mosses,  to 
cover  with  their  patches  the  trunks  of  trees  ;  the  lichens,  to  make 
the  statues  white  with  their  grey  bands  ;  the  brambles,  to  bar  the 
walks  and  arrest  you  with  their  thorns  ;  the  wild  poppy,  to  raise 
its  red  spark  near  the  untrained  rose  ;  the  ivy,  to  shoot  its  roving 
wreaths,  and  hang  over  the  balustrades  of  terraces.  Full  license 
would  have  been  granted  to  the  nettle,  the  thistle,  the  celandine, 
the  cleavers,  which  cling  to  you  like  a  burr  ;  to  the  burdock,  the 
nightshade,  the  quitch — to  all  the  gipsy  horde  of  undisciplined 
plants — to  grow,  multiply,  invade,  obliterate  every  trace  of  cultiva- 
tion, and  to  turn  the  flower-garden  into  a  miniature  forest. 

This  forsaken  paradise,  we  should,  besides,  have  liked  to  see 
surrounded  with  walls  green  with  moss,  clothed  with  mural  plants, 
and  crowned  with  stocks,  iris,  gilliflowers,  and  seagreens,  in  place 
of  the  broken  glass,  wherewith  it  is  usual  to  deter  the  intruding 
urchins  ;  and  over  the  rain-washed  gate,  bare  of  paint,  and  having 
no  trace  of  that  green  colour  beloved  by  Rousseau,  we  would 
have  written  this  inscription  in  black  letters,  stone-like  in  shape, 
and  threatening  of  aspect :  '  Gardeners  are  prohibited  from 
entering  here.' — Nature  at  Home. 


THEOPHILE  GAUTIER  273 

Gardens  were  then  (under  Louis  XIV.)  built  as  much  as  planted, 
and  the  trees  had  to  approximate  to  architectural  forms.  The 
hedges  were  folded  back  at  right  angles  like  the  leaves  of  a  screen 
of  verdure.  The  yews  were  sharpened  to  a  pyramid,  or  rounded  to 
a  ball ;  deft  shears  outlined  arches  in  clumps  of  foliage,  and  what 
we  now  know  as  the  '  picturesque,'  was  sedulously  avoided. 
This  taste,  improperly  called  the  French  taste,  reached  us  from 
Italy,  where  the  villas  and  vines  of  the  popes  and  Roman  princes 
set  the  example  of  this  mixture  of  terraces,  fabrics,  statues,  vases, 
green  trees  and  spouting  waters. 

We  ourselves,  in  the  day  of  Romanticism,  had  more  or  less 
paraphrased  the  ingenious  antithesis,  which  Victor  Hugo,^  in  the 
preface  of  Cromwell,  made  between  a  virgin  forest  of  America 
and  the  gardens  of  Versailles,  and  we  have  jested,  Hke  others, 
about  'the  little  yews  in  onion-rows.' ^ 

We  were  wrong ;  this  garden  was  quite  the  garden  of  this 
chateau,  and  there  was  a  marvellous  harmony  in  this  collec- 
tion of  regular  forms,  in  which  the  life  of  the  period  could 
develop  at  ease  its  majestic  and  rather  sluggish  evolutions.  The 
result  is  an  impression  of  grandeur,  symmetry  and  beauty,  which 
no  one  can  resist.  Versailles  ever  remains  unrivalled  in  the 
world  :  it  is  the  supreme  formula  of  a  complete  art,  and  the 
expression,  at  its  highest  power,  of  a  civilisation  arrived  at  its 
complete  expansion. 

When,  under  Louis  XVI.,  the  garden  was  replanted,  taste 
had  changed.  The  Citizen  Rousseau  of  Geneva  had  discovered 
Nature ;  English  ideas  invaded  the  Continent,  fashion  was  with 
'  the  landscape  gardeners,'  that  is  to  say,  with  hilly  sites,  clumps 

^  See  p.  262, 

^  O  dieux  !     O  bergers  !     O  rocailles  ! 
Vieux  Satyres,  Termes  grognons, 

Vieux  petits  ifs  en  rang  d'oignons, 
O  bassins,  quinconces,  charmilles, 

Boulingrins  pleins  de  majeste, 
Ou,  les  dimanches,  tout  I'ete 

Baillent  tant  d'honnetes  families. 

Alfred  de  Musset. 


2  74  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

of  untrimmed  trees,  sinuous  alleys,  green  lawns,  sheets  of  water 
crossed  by  rustic  bridges,  sham  grottoes,  artificial  ruins,  cottages 
containing  automata  performing  country  labours.  By  admiring 
such  things,  one  showed  that  one  had  a  soul  of  sensibility, 
a  great  pretension  of  the  period,  and  the  thought  arose  of  re- 
modelling the  garden  in  the  modern  style  .  .  .  this  transformation 
was  effected  by  the  plans  of  Hubert  Robert,  the  designer  in 
fashion,  the  painter  of  ruins,  the  'Romantique'  of  the  day,  an 
artist  endowed  with  a  decorative  and  picturesque  feeling  still 
appreciated  in  our  day,  whose  pictures  and  sketches  full  of 
intelligence  are  still  collected  by  amateurs. — Tableaux  de  Siege 
{Le  Versailles  de  Louis  XIV.)} 

— A/\/\/Vw — 

ALEXANDER  \ATILD   as   the   nighest   woodland    of   a   deserted   home    in 
t^mt'/ AK^F  England,  but  without  its  sweet  sadness,  is  the  sumptu- 

(1811-1891).  ous  Garden  of  Damascus.     Forest  trees  tall  and  stately  enough, 

if  you  could  see  their  lofty  crests,  yet  lead  a  bustling  life  of  it 
below,  with  their  branches  struggling  against  strong  numbers  of 
bushes  and  wilful  shrubs.  The  shade  upon  the  earth  is  black  as 
night.  High,  high  above  your  head,  and  on  every  side  all  down 
to  the  ground,  the  thicket  is  hemmed  in  and  choked  up  by  the 
interlacing  boughs  that  droop  with  the  weight  of  roses,  and  load 
the  slow  air  with  their  damask  breath.  The  rose-trees  which  I 
saw  were  all  of  the  kind  we  call  damask — they  grow  to  an 
immense  height  and  size.  There  are  no  other  flowers.  Here 
and  there  are  patches  of  ground  made  clear  from  the  cover, 
and  these  are  either  carelessly  planted  with  some  common  and 
useful  vegetable,  or  else  are  left  free  to  the  wayward  ways  of 
nature,  and  bear  rank  weeds,  moist-looking  and  cool  to  your  eyes, 
and  freshening  the  sense  with  their  earthy  and  bitter  fragrance. 
There  is  a  lane  opened  through  the  thicket,  so  broad  in  some 
places  that  you  can  pass  along  side  by  side — in  some  so  narrow 
(the  shrubs  are  for  ever  encroaching)  that  you  ought,  if  you  can, 
^  See  Account  of  Versailles  in  Appendix. 


HENRY  DAVID  THOREAU  275 

to  go  on  the  first  and  hold  back  the  bough  of  the  rose-tree.  And 
through  this  wilderness  there  tumbles  a  loud  rushing  stream,  which 
is  halted  at  last  in  the  lowest  corner  of  the  garden,  and  then  tossed 
up  in  the  fountain  by  the  side  of  the  simple  alcove.  This  is  all. 
Never  for  an  instant  will  the  people  of  Damascus  attempt  to 
separate  the  idea  of  bliss  from  these  wild  gardens  and  rushing 
waters. — Ebthetu 

A^EANWHILE  my  beans,  the  length  of  whose  rows,  added  HENRY 
■^"^  together,  was  seven  miles  already  planted,  were  impatient  THOREAU 
to  be  hoed,  for  the  earliest  had  grown  considerably  before  the  (1817-1862). 
latest  were  in  the  ground ;  indeed,  they  were  not  easily  to  be  put 
off.  What  was  the  meaning  of  this  so  steady  and  self-respecting, 
this  small  Herculean  labour,  I  knew  not.  I  came  to  love  my 
rows,  my  beans,  though  so  many  more  than  I  wanted.  They 
attached  me  to  the  Earth,  and  so  I  got  strength  like  Antceus. 
But  why  should  I  raise  them  ?  Only  Heaven  knows.  This  was 
my  curious  labour  all  summer, — to  make  this  portion  of  the 
Earth's  surface,  which  had  yielded  only  cinquefoil,  blackberries, 
johnswort,  and  the  like,  before,  sweet  wild  fruits  and  pleasant 
flowers,  produce  instead  this  pulse  ?  What  shall  I  learn  of  beans 
or  beans  of  me?  I  cherish  them,  I  owe  them,  early  and  late  I 
have  an  eye  to  them,  and  this  is  my  day's  work.  It  is  a  fine 
broad  leaf  to  look  on.  My  auxiliaries  are  the  dews  and  rains, 
which  water  this  dry  soil,  and  what  fertility  is  in  the  soil  itself, 
which  for  the  most  part  is  lean  and  effete.  My  enemies  are 
worms,  cool  days,  and  most  of  all  woodchucks.  The  last  have 
nibbled  for  me  a  quarter  of  an  acre  clean.  But  what  right  had  I 
to  oust  johnswort  and  the  rest,  and  break  up  their  ancient  herb- 
garden. —  Walden. 

-'Af\/\lf— 

JE  me  suis  toujours  plu  a  chercher  dans  la  nature  exterieure  et  CHARLES 
visible  des  exemples  et  des  metaphores  qui  me  servissent  a  BAUDELAIR. 
,  .       .      .     .  ,      .       ^    .         1,  J  •  •      ,   (1821-1867). 

caractenser  les  jouissances  et  les  impressions  d  un  ordre  spirituel. 

Je  reve  a  ce  que  me  faisait  eprouver  la  poesie  de  Madame  Valmore 


276  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

quand  je  la  parcourus  avec  ces  yeux  de  I'adolescence  qui  sont, 
chez  les  hommes  nerveux,  h  la  fois  si  ardents  et  si  clairvoyants. 
Cette  poesie  m'apparait  comme  un  jardin :  mais  ce  n'est  pas  la 
solennit(?  grandiose  de  Versailles ;  ce  n'est  pas  non  plus  le  pittor- 
esque  vaste  et  theatral  de  la  savante  Italic  qui  connait  si  bien  I'art 
d^edifier  des  jarditis  {ledificat  hortos) ;  pas  meme,  non  pas  meme 
la    Vallee  des  Flutes  ou  le   Tenure  de  notre  vieux   Jean  Paul. 
C'est  un  simple  jardin  anglais,  romantique  et  romanesque.     Des 
massifs  de   fleurs  y  representent  les  abondants  expressions  du 
sentiment.     Des  etangs,  limpides  et  immobiles,  qui  reflechissent 
toutes  choses  s'appuyant  a  I'envers  sur  la  votite  renversee  des 
cieux,  figurent  la  profonde  resignation  toute  parsemee  de  souvenirs. 
Rien  ne  manque  h  ce  charmant  jardin  d'un  autre  age  :  ni  quelques 
mines  gothiques  se  cachant  dans  un  lieu  agreste,  ni  le  mausolee 
inconnu  qui,  au  detour  d'une  allee,  surprend  notre  ame  et  lui 
commande    de    penser    a    I'eternite.      Des   allees   sinueuses   et 
ombragees  aboutissent  'k  des  horizons  subits.     Ainsi  la  pensee  du 
poete,  apres  avoir  suivi  de  capricieux  meandres,  debouche  sur  les 
vastes  perspectives  du  passe  ou  de  I'avenir ;  mais  ces  ciels  sont 
trop  vastes  pour  etre  generalement  purs,  et  la  temperature  du 
climat  trop  chaude  pour  n'y  pas  amasser  des   orages.     Le  pro- 
meneur,    en   contemplant   ces   etendues   voilees    de   deuil,    sent 
monter  k  ses  yeux  les  pleurs  de  I'hysterie,  hysterical  tears.      Les 
fleurs  se  penchent  vaincues,  et  les  oiseaux  ne  parlent  qu'  a  voix 
basse.     Apres  un  eclair  precurseur,  un  coup  de  tonnerre  a  retenti : 
c'est  I'explosion  lyrique ;  enfin  un  deluge  inevitable  de  larmes  rend 
a   toutes   ces   choses,    prostrees,    souffrantes    et   decouragees   la 
fraicheur  et  la  solidite  d'une  nouvelle  jeunesse  ! — Literary  Notice 
of  Madame  Desbordes-Valmore  [Les  Po'etes  Fra?icais). 

HENRI  'T^HIS  morning  the  air  was  calm,   the  sky  slightly  veiled.     I 

AWHFL^  ^^^^  ^^^  ^^^°  ^•^^  garden  to  see  what  progress  the  spring 

(1821-1881).       was   making.      I    strolled   from  the   irises   to  the   lilacs,  round 

the   flower-beds   and   in  the   shrubberies.      Delightful  surprise ! 


EDMOND  DE  GONCOURT  %^^ 

at  the  corner  of  the  walk,  half  hidden  under  a  thick  clump  of 
shrubs,  a  small-leaved  chorchorus  had  flowered  during  the  night. 
Gay  and  fresh  as  a  bunch  of  bridal  flowers,  the  little  shrub  glittered 
before  me  in  all  the  attraction  of  its  opening  beauty.  What  spring- 
like innocence,  what  soft  and  modest  loveliness  there  was  in 
these  white  corollas,  opening  gently  to  the  sun,  like  thoughts 
which  smile  upon  us  at  waking,  and  perched  upon  their  young 
leaves  of  virginal  green  like  bees  upon  the  wing !  Mother  of 
marvels,  mysterious  and  tender  Nature,  why  do  we  not  live  more 
in  thee  ?  .  .  .  A  modest  garden  and  a  country  rectory,  the  narrow 
horizon  of  a  garret,  contain  for  those  who  know  how  to  look  and 
to  wait,  more  instruction  than  a  library.— 2 9^/z  April  1852  {Lancy). 

^ist  October  1852  {Lancy).  Walked  for  half  an  hour  in  the 
garden.  A  fine  rain  was  falling,  and  the  landscape  was  that  of 
autumn.  The  sky  was  hung  with  various  shades  of  gray,  and 
mists  hovered  about  the  distant  mountains, — a  melancholy  nature. 
The  leaves  were  falling  on  all  sides  like  the  last  illusions  of  youth 
under  the  tears  of  irremediable  grief.  A  brood  of  chattering  birds 
were  chasing  each  other  through  the  shrubberies,  and  playing 
games  among  the  branches,  like  a  knot  of  hiding  schoolboys. 
Every  landscape  is,  as  it  were,  a  state  of  the  soul,  and  whoever 
penetrates  into  both  is  astonished  to  find  how  much  likeness  there 
is  in  each  detail. — -Journal  Intime  {translated  by  Mrs  Humphry 
Ward). 


— ^v/vVV' — 


T 


HE  garden,  which  I  had  bought  with  my  house,  although  planted  EDMOND 
with  common,  vulgar,  philistine  shrubs,  still  possessed  one  qoNCOURT 


beauty.  At  the  bottom  of  it  stood  a  superb  group  of  huge  trees  {1822-1S96). 
of  the  ancient  Montmorency  Park,  all  draped  in  ivy  and  unfolding 
over  the  head  of  a  low  rock  one  of  those  great  fans  of  verdure, 
with  which  Watteau  shades  the  repose  and  siesta  of  his  courtly 
groups.  This  I  had  to  preserve,  while  uprooting  all  the  rest,  and 
to  set  this  bouquet  of  great  trees  in  a  centre  of  hardy  evergreen 


278  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

shrubs,  which  under  winter  sunHght  simulate  a  summer  garden ;  and 
these  shrubs  I  had  to  choose  from  rare  sources,  for  the  rare  in 
everything,  whatever  may  be  said,  is  almost  always  the  beautiful. 
.  .  .  There  was  something  further  to  do  in  the  state  of  research 
and  actual  progress  of  horticulture,  and  in  the  rehandling  and  artist 
recolouring  of  natural  verdure ;  it  was  the  duty  of  a  coloicrist  man- 
of-letters  to  make  a  painter's  garden,  and  to  set  before  his  eyes  on 
a  large  scale  a  palette  of  greens  shading  from  the  deep  greens  to 
the  tender  ones,  through  the  range  of  the  blue-greens  of  the  Juniper 
tree,  the  golden-brown  greens  of  the  Cryptomerias,  and  all  the 
varied  blendings  of  hue  of  Hollies,  Spindle  trees  and  Aucubas, 
which,  by  the  pallor  of  their  leaves,  give  an  illusion  of  flowers  in 
their  absence.  Let  us  confess  that  in  this  style  of  gardening,  which 
has  a  touch  of  bric-a-brac  about  it,  the  bush  elegantly  branched, 
charmingly  trained,  coquettishly  variegated,  becomes  a  kind  of  art- 
object,  which  we  see  again  with  closed  eyes,  dream  of  in  bed,  and 
imagine  ourselves  seeking  in  the  private  garden  of  a  great  horti- 
culturist, just  as  we  might  pursue  a  rarity  hidden  upon  the  shelf  of 
the  private  collection  of  a  great  curio-hunter.  .  .  . 

Here  is  June  with  the  flowering  of  the  rhododendrons,  and  the 
crumpling  of  their  pink  and  mauve  tulle,  which  calls  up  visions  of 
ball  dresses  ;  and  with  their  lovely  tawny  and  black  spots  like 
drones  cradled  in  the  core  of  the  flower ;  and  here  with  the  flower- 
ing of  the  rhododendrons  come  the  blossoms  of  the  cHmbing 
roses  which  mount  into  the  great  trees  and  are  lost  in  the  ivy. 
Trails,  wreaths,  cascades,  arranged  as  deftly  as  those  of  the  old 
Venetian  masters  around  the  curves  of  their  ewers ;  cascades  of 
white,  yellow,  and  pink  roses,  which,  with  the  sun  enclosed  in 
their  translucent  petals,  illumine  the  dark  verdure.  And,  at  dusk, 
days  which  fade  to  the  scent  of  pepper  blent  with  the  savours  of 
Eastern  spices,  to  the  slowly  modulated  songs  of  the  weary  birds, 
and  where,  upon  a  sunless  day,  a  lingering  ray  of  the  vanished  sun 
gilds  even  at  eight  o'clock  the  green  of  the  lawn.  It  is  the 
moment  beneath  the  twilight  for  the  sport  of  young  and  imprudent 
blackbirds  still  unfledged,  watched  over  by  an  old,  grave,  and  very 
ebon  blackbird.     And  amid  the  sinking  into  sleep  of  Colour,  when 


ERNEST  REN  AN  279 

the  white  of  a  great-headed  viburnum,  the  yellow  of  a  bunch  of 
iris,  the  cerise  of  a  broughton  rhododendron,  are  no  more  than 
phantoms  of  white,  yellow,  and  cerise,  the  zigzags  of  little  blurred 
bats  no  longer  seem  like  flights,  but  the  shades  of  flights.  At  last, 
in  the  mist  of  things  in  the  darkened  garden,  nothing  but  the 
almost  spectral  pallor  of  a  streaked  negundo,  silvery  pink  in  foliage 
beneath  the  rising  moon,  calls  to  mind  an  enchanted  midnight 
tree,  whither,  in  a  shroud  of  white  satin,  a  slender  wraith  of  old 
Italian  Comedy  comes  to  cut  ghostly  capers. — La  Maison  d'uii 
Artiste} 

K  ND  how  preferable  for  such  historical  work  would  be  the  ERNEST 
^  peaceful  conditions  presented  by  provincial  life,  to  the  j^F^"^^ 
narrow,  troubled,  instable,  precarious  conditions  of  life  in  Paris. 
One  of  the  necessities  of  erudition  is  a  spacious  and  pleasant  in- 
stallation, where  there  is  no  fear  of  being  either  unsettled  or 
disturbed.  .  .  .  The  love  of  truth,  moreover,  makes  us  solitary  : 
the  provinces  possess  sohtude,  repose,  liberty. 

I  will  add  to  this  the  pleasure  and  the  smile  of  Nature. 
These  austere  labours  require  calm  and  joy  of  mind,  leisure, 
complete  self-possession.  A  pretty  house  in  the  suburb  of  a 
large  town ;  a  long  work-room  furnished  with  books,  the  exterior 
tapestried  with  Bengal  roses ;  a  garden  with  straight  alleys,  where 
we  can  distract  ourselves  a  moment  with  our  flowers  from  the 
conversation  of  our  books  :  nothing  of  all  this  is  useless  for  that 
health  of  the  soul  necessary  to  the  works  of  the  mind. — Feidlles 
Detachees  ('  Pent  on  travailler  en  Province  ? ') 


•^l\/\f\r^- 


w 


E  venture  to  think   that  artistic   and   scientific   gardening  MORTIMER 


miarht    become   an   admirable   profession   for   2:entlemen  COLLINS 
L—  r        ,  •  r  >T  •         •    (1827-1876). 

not   ambitious  of  making    great    fortunes.       No   occupation    is 

healthier;  none  is  fuller  of  variety  and  interest.     Every  day  in 

^  No.  53  Boulevard  Montmorency,  Auteil.      For  a  translation  of  the  whole 
article,  see  'The  Garden,'  May  28,  1898. 


iSo  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

garden  and  greenhouse  brings  a  new  surprise — a  new  delight ; 
and  the  man  who  becomes  a  thorough  gardener  will  often  recall 
Cowley's  famous  line : 

'  God  the  first  garden  made,  and  the  first  city,  Cain.' 

The  leaves  of  autumn  are  flying  before  rain  and  wind.  They 
drive  athwart  my  lawn,  a  versi-coloured  shower.  The  copper- 
beech  is  burning  its  deepest  russet,  the  Canadian  oak  is  a 
tangled  web  of  shivering  saffron ;  soon  the  turf  will  be  clear 
swept,  to  the  weary  gardener's  high  delight,  and  the  eye's  chief 
solace  will  be  the  glossy  green  of  laurel  and  holly. — Thoughts  in 
my  Garden. 


T.  JAMES  2u  /^F  all  the  vain  assumptions  of  these  coxcombical  times,  that 
'The  Carthusian'  v^  which  arrogates  the  pre-eminence  in  the  true  science  of 
gardening  is  the  vainest.  True,  our  conservatories  are  full  of  the 
choicest  plants  from  every  clime ;  we  ripen  the  grape  and  the 
pine-apple  with  an  art  unknown  before,  and  even  the  mango,  the 
mangosteen,  and  the  guava  are  made  to  yield  their  matured  fruits  ; 
but  the  real  beauty  and  poetry  of  a  garden  are  lost  in  our  efforts 
after  rarity,  and  strangeness,  and  variety.  To  be  the  possessor 
of  a  unique  pansy,  the  introducer  of  a  new  specimen  of  the 
Orchidacese,  or  the  cultivator  of  500  choice  varieties  of  the  dahlia, 
is  now  the  only  claim  to  gardening  celebrity  and  Horticultural 
medals. 

And  then  our  lot  has  fallen  in  the  evil  days  of  system.  We  are 
proud  of  our  natural  or  English  style ;  and  scores  of  unmeaning 
flower-beds,  disfiguring  the  lawn  in  the  shapes  of  kidneys,  and 
tadpoles  and  sausages,  and  leeches,  and  commas,  are  the  result. 
Landscape-gardening  has  encroached  too  much  upon  gardening 
proper ;  and  this  has  had  the  same  effect  upon  our  gardens  that 
horticultural  societies  have  had  on  our  fruits, — to  make  us  enter- 
tain the  vulgar  notion  that  size  is  virtue.  ...  If  we  review  the 
various  styles  that  have  prevailed  in  England,  from  the  knotted 


T.  JAMES  281 

gardens  of  Elizabeth,  the  pleach-work  and  intricate  flower-borders 
of  James  I.,  the  painted  Dutch  statues  and  canals  of  William  and 
Mary,  the  winding  gravel  walks,  and  lake-making  of  Brown,  to 
poor  Shenstone's  sentimental  farm  and  the  landscape  fashion  of 
the  present  day, — we  shall  have  little  reason  to  pride  ourselves  on 
the  advance  which  national  taste  has  made  upon  the  earhest 
efforts  in  this  department. 

If  I  am  to  have  a  system  at  all,  give  me  the  good  old  system 
of  terraces  and  angled  walks,  and  dipt  yew-hedges,  against  whose 
dark  and  rich  verdure  the  bright  old-fashioned  flowers  glittered  in 
the  sun. 

I  love  the  topiary  art,  with  its  trimness  and  primness,  and  its 
open  avowal  of  its  artificial  character.  It  repudiates  at  the  first 
glance  the  skulking  and  cowardly  '  celare  artem '  principle,  and, 
in  its  vegetable  sculpture,  is  the  properest  transition  from  the 
architecture  of  the  house  to  the  natural  beauties  of  the  grove  and 
paddock. 

Who,  to  whom  the  elegance,  and  gentlemanliness,  and  poetry — 
the  Boccaccio-spirit — of  a  scene  of  Watteau  is  familiar,  does  not 
regret  the  devastation  made  by  tasty  innovators  upon  the  grounds 
laid  out  in  the  times  of  the  Jameses  and  Charleses  ?  As  for  old 
Noll,  I  am  certain,  though  I  have  not  a  jot  of  evidence,  that  he 
cared  no  more  for  a  garden  than  for  an  anthem ;  he  would  as  lief 
have  sacrificed  the  verdant  sculpture  of  a  yew-peacock  as  the 
time-honoured  tracery  of  a  cathedral  shrine ;  and  his  crop-eared 
soldiery  would  have  had  as  great  satisfaction  in  bivouacking  in 
the  parterres  of  a  'royal  pleasaunce'  as  in  the  presence-chamber 
of  a  royal  palace.  It  were  a  sorrow  beyond  tears  to  dwell  on  the 
destruction  of  garden-stuff  in  those  king-killing  times.  Thousands, 
doubtless,  of  broad-paced  terraces  and  trim  vegetable  conceits 
sunk  in  the  same  ruin  with  their  mansions  and  their  masters  :  and 
alas !  modern  taste  has  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  ancient 
fanaticism.  How  many  old  associations  have  been  rooted  up 
with  the  knotted  stumps  of  yew  and  hornbeam  !  And  Oxford,  too, 
in  the  van  of  reform  !  Beautiful  as  are  St  John's  Gardens,  who 
would  not  exchange  them  for  the  very  walks  and  alleys  along 


282  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

which  Laud,  in  all  the  pardonable  pride  of  collegiate  lionizing, 
conducted  his  illustrious  guests,  Charles  and  Henrietta?  Who 
does  not  grieve  that  we  must  now  inquire  in  vain  for  the  bowling- 
green  in  Christ  Church,  where  Cranmer  solaced  the  weariness  of 
his  last  confinement  ?  And  who  lately,  in  reading  Scott's  life,  but 
must  have  mourned  in  sympathy  with  the  poet  over  the  destruction 
of  '  the  huge  hill  of  leaves,'  and  the  yew  and  hornbeam  hedges  of 
the  '  Garden '  at  Kelso.  .  .  . 

My  garden  should  lie  to  the  south  of  the  house ;  the  ground 
gradually  sloping  for  some  short  way  till  it  falls  abruptly  into  the 
dark  and  tangled  shrubberies  that  all  but  hide  the  winding  brook 
below.  A  broad  terrace,  half  as  wide,  at  least,  as  the  house  is 
high,  should  run  along  the  whole  southern  length  of  the  building, 
extending  to  the  western  side  also,  whence,  over  the  distant 
country,  I  may  catch  the  last  red  light  of  the  setting  sun.  I 
must  have  some  musk  and  noisette  roses,  and  jasmine,  to  run 
up  the  mullions  of  my  oriel  window,  and  honeysuckles  and 
clematis,  the  white,  the  purple,  and  the  blue,  to  cluster  round 
the  top.  The  upper  terrace  should  be  strictly  architectural,  and 
no  plants  are  to  be  harboured  there,  save  such  as  twine  among 
the  balustrades,  or  fix  themselves  in  the  mouldering  crevices  of 
the  stone.  I  can  endure  no  plants  in  pots, — a  plant  in  a  pot  is 
like  a  bird  in  a  cage.  The  gourd  alone  throws  out  its  vigorous 
tendrils,  and  displays  its  green  and  golden  fruit  from  the  vases 
that  surmount  the  broad  flight  of  stone  steps  that  lead  to  the 
lower  terrace;  while  a  vase  of  larger  dimensions  and  bolder 
sculpture  at  the  western  corner  is  backed  by  the  heads  of  a  mass 
of  crimson,  rose,  and  straw-coloured  hollyhocks  that  spring  up 
from  the  bank  below.  The  lower  terrace  is  twice  the  width  of 
the  one  above,  of  the  most  velvety  turf,  laid  out  in  an  elaborate 
pattern  of  the  Italian  style.  Here  are  collected  the  choicest 
flowers  of  the  garden  ;  the  Dalmatic  purple  of  the  gentianella,  the 
dazzling  scarlet  of  the  verbena,  the  fulgent  lobelia,  the  bright 
yellows  and  rich  browns  of  the  calceolaria  here  luxuriate  in  their 
trimly  cut  parterres,  and  with  colours  as  briUiant  as  the  mosaic  of 
an  old  cathedral  painted  window 


T.  JAMES  283 

' Broider  the  ground 

"With  rich  inlay. '  ^ 

But  you  must  leave  this  mass  of  gorgeous  colouring  and  the  two 
pretty  fountains  that  play  in  their  basins  of  native  rock,  while  you 
descend  the  flight  of  steps,  simpler  than  those  of  the  upper 
terrace,  and  turn  to  the  left  hand,  where  a  broad  gravel  walk 
will  lead  you  to  the  kitchen-garden,  through  an  avenue  splendid 
in  autumn  with  hollyhocks,  dahlias,  China  asters,  nasturtians, 
and  African  marigolds. 

We  will  stop  short  of  the  walled  garden  to  turn  among  the 
dipt  hedges  of  box,  and  yew,  and  hornbeam  which  surround 
the  bowling-green,  and  lead  to  a  curiously  formed  labyrinth,  in 
the  centre  of  which,  perched  up  on  a  triangular  mound,  is  a 
fanciful  old  summer-house,  with  a  gilded  roof,  that  commands 
the  view  of  the  whole  surrounding  country.  Quaint  devices  of 
all  kinds  are  found  here.  Here  is  a  sun-dial  of  flowers,  arranged 
according  to  the  time  of  day  at  which  they  open  and  close. 
Here  are  peacocks  and  lions  in  livery  of  Lincoln  green.  Here 
are  berceaux  and  arbours,  and  covered  alleys,  and  enclosures 
containing  the  primest  of  the  carnations  and  cloves  in  set  order, 
and  miniature  canals  that  carry  down  a  stream  of  pure  water  to 
the  fish-ponds  below.  Further  onwards,  and  up  the  south  bank, 
verging  towards  the  house,  are  espaliers  and  standards  of  the 
choicest  fruit-trees ;  here  are  strawberry-beds  raised  so  as  to  be 
easy  for  gathering ;  while  the  round  gooseberry  and  currant 
bushes,  and  the  arched  raspberries  continue  the  formal  style  up 
the  walls  of  the  enclosed  garden,  whose  outer  sides  are  clothed 
alternately  with  fruit  and  flowers,  so  that  the  '  stranger  within  the 
house '  may  be  satisfied,  without  being  tantalized  by  the  rich 
reserves  within  the  gate  of  iron  tracery  of  which  the  head 
gardener  keeps  the  key. 

Return  to  the  steps  of  the  lower  terrace  :  what  a  fine  slope 
of  green  pasture  loses  itself  in  the  thorn,  hazel,  and  holly  thicket 
below,  while  the  silver  thread   of  the   running  brook  here  and 

^  '  Tot  fuerant  illic,  quot  habet  natura,  colores  : 
Pictaque  dissimili  flore  nitebat  humus.' — Ovid. 


284  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

there  sparkles  in  the  light ;  and  how  happily  the  miniature 
prospect,  framed  by  the  gnarled  branches  of  those  gigantic  oaks, 
discloses  the  white  spire  of  the  village  church  in  the  middle 
distance  !  While  in  the  background  the  smoke,  drifting  athwart 
the  base  of  the  purple  hill,  gives  evidence  that  the  evening  fires 
are  just  lit  in  the  far-off  town. 

At  the  right-hand  corner  of  the  lower  terrace  the  ground  falls 
more  abruptly  away,  and  the  descent  into  the  lawn,  which  is 
overlooked  from  the  high  western  terrace,  is,  by  two  or  three 
steps  at  a  time,  cut  out  in  the  native  rock  of  red  sandstone, 
which  also  forms  the  base  of  the  terrace  itself  Rock  plants 
of  every  description  freely  grow  in  the  crevices  of  the  rustic 
battlement  which  flanks  the  path  on  either  side ;  the  irregularity 
of  the  structure  increases  as  you  descend,  till,  on  arriving  on  the 
lawn  below,  large  rude  masses  lie  scattered  on  the  turf  and  along 
the  foundation  of  the  western  terrace. 

A  profusion  of  the  most  exquisite  climbing  roses  of  endless 
variety  here  clamber  up  till  they  bloom  over  the  very  balustrade 
of  the  higher  terrace,  or  creep  over  the  rough  stones  at  the  foot 
of  the  descent.  Here  stretching  to  the  south  is  the  nosegay  of 
the  garden.  Mignonette,  'the  Frenchman's  darling,'  and  the 
musk-mimulus  spring  out  of  every  fissure  of  the  sandstone ; 
while  beds  of  violets, 

'  That  strew  the  green  lap  of  the  new-come  Spring,' 

and  liHes  of  the  valley  scent  the  air  below.  Beds  of  heliotrope 
flourish  around  the  isolated  block  of  sandstone;  the  fuchsia, 
alone  inodorous,  claims  a  place  from  its  elegance;  and  honey- 
suckles and  clematis  of  all  kinds  trail  along  the  ground,  or  twine 
up  the  stands  of  rustic  baskets,  filled  with  the  more  choice  odori- 
ferous plants  of  the  greenhouse.  The  scented  heath,  the  tuberose, 
and  the  rarer  jasmines  have  each  their  place,  while  the  sweet-briar 
and  the  wall-flower,  and  the  clove  and  stock  gilliflower  are  not 
too  common  to  be  neglected.  To  bask  upon  the  dry  sunny  rock 
on  a  bright  spring  morning  in  the  midst  of  this  '  wilderness  of 
sweets,'  or  on  a  dewy  summer's  eve  to  lean  over  the  balustrade 


'QUARTERLY  REVIEW  285 

above,  while  every  breath  from  beneath  wafts  up  the  perfumed 

air, 

'  Stealing  and  giving  odour,' 

is  one  of  the  greatest  luxuries  I  have  in  life. — The  Poetry  of 
Gardening} 

'HpHE  amateur  who,  happening  to  have  a  sufficiency  of  land  '  QUARTERLY 

^  attached  to  his  residence,  chooses  himself  to  take  the  com-  /.get) 
mand  of  two  or  three  labourers,  instead  of  employing  a  trained 
professional  at  a  high  salary — (wages  might  be  offensive) — is  of 
compulsion  the  most  assiduous  student  of  garden  literature.  His 
practice  will  be  adapted  to  various  ends,  according  as  utility  or 
ornament  is  the  object  the  more  desirable  in  his  state  of  affairs. 
But  his. horticulture  is  mostly  of  the  composite  order;  he  cultivates 
a  garden-of-all-work.  As  the  celebrated  cobbler  *  lived  in  a  stall 
— that  served  him  for  parlour  and  kitchen  and  all,'  so  the  inde- 
pendent manager  arranges  a  plot  of  ground  so  as  to  comprise  the 
conveniences  of  orchard,  kitchen-garden,  shrubbery,  parterre,  and 
terrace.  And  a  capital  school  it  is  for  the  men  and  boys  who  are 
wise  enough  to  look  after  instruction  while  working  in  it.  How 
well,  too,  an  avenue  of  standard  perpetual  roses  harmonizes  with 
the  line  of  a  feathery  asparagus  bed  !  How  little  there  is  to 
displease  in  a  rectangular  strawberry-ground  enclosed  in  a  frame- 
work of  brilliant  low-growing  flowers,  with  an  outer  fillet  of  box, 
having  openings  left,  hke  the  gates  of  a  Roman  camp,  for  the 
approach  of  the  workmen  and  the  fruit-gatherers  !  What  pleasant 
strolls  may  be  taken  in  a  wilderness  of  apple,  buUace,  cherrj', 
plum,  filbert,  and  medlar-trees,  with  an  underwood  of  the  peri- 
winkles, great  and  small,  honesty,  and  primroses,  and  with  one 
path  at  least  skirting  the  edge  of  the  fish-pond,  from  which  a  pike 
for  dinner  may  always  be  had.     His  visitors  enjoy  the  combination 

^  This  essay,  together  with  another  one  by  the  same  writer,  which  originally 
appeared  in  the  Quarterly  Review,  1842,  was  reprinted  by  Murray  in  1852,  in 
one  of  the  little  volumes  of  his  '  Reading  for  the  Rail,'  under  the  title  of 
'The  Flower-Garden.' 


M 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


as  much  as  himself.  He  asks  a  city  friend  which  he  will  have 
put  into  his  carriage — a  basket  of  flowers  or  a  hamper  of  vegetables ; 
— and  the  answer  is,  '  Both  ! '  To  make  it  perfect  in  its  way,  all 
the  spare  decoration  he  can  afford  to  bestow  upon  it  should  tend 
to  make  it  a  winter  garden. 


SIR 

ARTHUR 

HELPS 

(1817-1875)- 


AS  for  our  love  of  gardens,  it  is  the  last  refuge  of  art  in  the 
minds  and  souls  of  many  Englishmen :  if  we  did  not  care 
for  gardens,  I  hardly  know  what  in  the  way  of  beauty  we  should 
care  for. —  Companions  of  my  Solitude. 


— *At\f\t^ — 


SIR  "CMBOSOMED  in  a  valley  and  an  unshorn  forest,  and  refreshed 

^^y^}^^  by  the  Tagus  and  the  Xarama  which  mingle  their  streams 

MAXWELL  beneath  the  palace-walls,  Aranjuez  has  long  been  the  Tivoli  or 
(181 8- 1878).  Windsor  of  the  princes,  and  the  Tempe  of  the  poets  of  Castile. 
Even  now,  the  traveller  who  comes  weary  and  adust  from  brown 
La  Mancha,  and  from  the  edge  of  the  desert,  looks  down  on  the 
palace,  sparkling  with  its  long  white  arcades  and  gilded  vanes 
amongst  woods  and  waters,  may  share  the  raptures  of  Garcilasso 
and  Calderon.  The  island  garden,  though  deserted  by  royalty 
and  grandeeship,  has  yet  its  bright  sun  and  rivers,  its  marble 
statues  and  fountains  half  hid  in  thickets;  the  old  elms  of 
Charles  V. ;  ^  and  cathedral-walks  of  hornbeam,  peopled  with  a 
melodious  multitude  of  nightingales.  The  fountain-pipes  that 
once  climbed  unseen  amongst  the  branches,  and  played  from 
the  tops  of  the  trees,^  have  long  ceased  to  play ;  others,  however, 
are  still  in  full  force;  and  a  few  camels,  parading  too  and  fro 
with  garden  burdens,  preserve  an  oriental  custom  of  the  place,  as 
old  as  the  days  of  Philip  II.  Here  Velasquez  attended  his 
master  in  his  walks,  or  sat  retired  in  '  pleached  bowers,'  noting 

^  Beckford,  '  Letters  from  Spain, '  xvii. 
-  Lady  Fanshaw,  '  Memoirs,'  pp.  222-3. j 


FORBES  WATSON  287 

the  fine  effects  of  summer  sunlight  and  silvan  shade,  and  making 
many  sketches  of  sweet  garden  scenes.  Some  of  these  have 
found  their  way  to  the  Royal  gallery ;  such  as  the  fine  view  of 
the  Avenue  of  the  Queen,  enhvened  by  coaches  and  promenaders 
from  the  palace.  Another  is  a  study  of  the  Fountain  of  the 
Tritons,  a  rich  piece  of  sculpture  in  white  marble,  sometimes 
attributed  to  the  chisel  of  Berreguete,  not  unlike  that  which  re- 
freshed the  garden  of  Boccaccio's  immortal  palace.^  Through 
the  bough  of  overarching  trees,  the  light  falls  brokenly  on  a 
group  of  courtly  figures,  that  might  pass  for  the  fair  sisterhood 
and  gallant  following  of  Pampinea. — Annals  of  the  Artists  of 
Spain. 

NOW  the  faults  of  gardening,  against  which  my  present  paper  is  FORBES 
directed,  all  centre  in  this  one  thing — the  constant  subjec-  WATSON, 
tion  of  the  imaginative,  or  higher,  to  the  sensuous,  or  lower, 
element  of  flower  beauty.  We  will  trace  this,  first,  in  the  general 
arrangement  of  gardens  and  of  flowers  in  relation  to  each  other, 
and  afterwards  in  the  case  of  their  individual  culture.  To  begin, 
then,  we  find  flower-beds  habitually  considered  too  much  as  mere 
masses  of  colour,  instead  of  an  assemblage  of  living  beings.  The 
only  thought  is  to  delight  the  eye  by  the  utmost  possible  splendour. 
When  we  walk  in  our  public  gardens  everything  seems  tending  to 
distract  the  attention  from  the  separate  plants,  and  to  make  us 
look  at  them  only  with  regard  to  their  united  effect.  And  this 
universal  brilliancy,  this  striking  effect  of  the  masses,  is  the  ac- 
knowledged chief  aim  of  the  cultivator.  .  .  . 

Has  any  of  our  readers,  gifted  with  real  love  for  flowers,  ever 
walked  through  one  of  those  older  gardens,  and  observed  the 
wide  difference  in  its  effect  ?  I  am  not  here  speaking  necessarily 
of  the  grounds  of  a  mansion,  but  merely  of  such  a  garden  as  might 
often  be  found,  some  twenty  years  ago,  attached  to  any  good-sized 
house  in  a  country  town  or  village.     Or  even  a  little  cottage-plot 

^  'Decameron,'  Giorn.  III.,  Nov.  I. 


288  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

of  the  kind  so  beautifully  described  by  Clare  will  to  some  extent 
illustrate  my  meaning : 

'  And  where  the  marjoram  once,  and  sage  and  rue, 
And  balm  and  mint,  with  curled-leaf  parsley  grew, 
And  double  marigolds,  and  silver  thyme, 
And  pumpkins  'neath  the  window  used  to  climb  ; 
And  where  I  often,  when  a  child,  for  hours 
Tried  through  the  pales  to  get  the  tempting  flowers  ; 
As  lady's  laces  everlasting  peas. 
True  love  lies  bleeding,  with  the  hearts  at  ease  ; 
And  golden  rods,  and  tansy  running  high, 
That  o'er  the  pale  top  smiled  on  passer-by  ; 
Flowers  in  my  time  which  every  one  would  praise. 
Though  thrown  like  weeds  from  gardens  now-a-days.' 

There  might  be  but  little  attempt  at  colour-grouping,  or  at  the 
production  of  effect  by  masses  in  a  narrow  sense.  But  was  there 
any  want  of  beauty  there  ?  And  did  you  not  feel,  in  looking  at 
those  flowers,  how  each  made  you  love  it  as  a  friend — the  Pinks 
and  Sweet  Williams,  the  Everlasting  Peas,  Valerian,  Day  Lily, 
Jacob's  Ladder,  and  a  host  of  others  ?  And  did  you  not  notice 
how  ever  and  again  you  fell  upon  some  quaint,  strange  plant 
which  has  been  expelled  from  the  modern  border,  which  seemed 
to  touch  your  inmost  soul,  and  to  fill  the  mind,  especially  if  in 
childhood,  with  a  sense  of  wonder  and  mysterious  awe  ?  What 
was  that  plant  ?  Could  not  anybody  tell  its  name,  and  where  it 
came  from,  and  all  else  about  it,  for  it  must  surely  have  an  event- 
ful history  ?  And,  with  curiosity  rather  stimulated  than  satisfied 
by  the  scanty  knowledge  you  could  glean,  you  fell  back  upon  the 
imagination,  which  set  it  down  as  an  actor  in  some  strange  and 
awful  tale,  as  that  of  a  young  man  who  gathered  some  unknown 
wild  flowers  that  attracted  him,  and  who,  together  with  his  be- 
trothed, was  poisoned  by  their  touch.  Feelings  of  this  sort  were 
strongly  awakened  in  my  mind  in  childhood  by  such  plants  as 
Caper  Spurge,  Henbane,  Rue,  and  other  more  beautiful  species, 
as  the  Dog's-Tooth  Violet,  with  its  spotted  leaves,  the  common 
Nigella,  and  the  pink  Marsh-Mallow  of  the  fields. 

Want  of  general  effect !     Is  there  none  in  those  cottage  gardens. 


JOHN  RUSKIN  289 

where  the  Nasturtiums  twine  lovingly  all  the  summer  amongst  the 
Jasmine,  Clematis,  and  thickly-trellised  Rose — where  the  towering 
splendour  of  the  Hollyhocks  is  confronted  by  the  broad  discs  of 
the  Sunflower,  and  where  the  huge  leaves,  herbs,  and  fruit-trees 
of  the  kitchen-garden  run  close  up  on,  or  intermix  with,  the 
border  flowers,  amongst  which  we  may  meet  at  any  time  with 
some  new  or  long-absent  friend  ?  Here  are  no  masses  of  colour 
in  the  modern  sense ;  but  do  you  ever  feel  the  want  of  them  ? 
Or  can  you  turn  from  these  simple  plots,  unstudied  for  effect,  to 
the  showy,  unvaried  brilliancy  of  the  modern  border,  and  find 
that  you  miss  nothing  there?  Do  not  the  plants  seem  com- 
paratively wanting  in  interest?  Do  they  not  seem  to  be  in- 
dividually less  dear,  to  hold  you  with  a  lighter  grasp  ?  Now  what 
can  be  the  reason  of  this?  The  old  gardeners,  we  are  told, 
thought  little  of  beauty,  and  chiefly  of  genera  and  species.  Why, 
then,  should  the  poet  find  that,  with  all  its  faults,  the  old  garden 
stirs  him  in  those  depths  which  the  modern  one  can  seldom 
reach  ?  This  defect  is  far  less  conspicuous  in  the  larger  hot- 
houses and  greenhouses,  and  I  am  convinced  that  it  depends 
almost  wholly  on  false  principles  of  arrangement.  I  will  give  an 
illustration  of  this.  Everybody  knows  the  little  blue  annual 
Lobeha.  It  is  a  pretty  flower,  but,  as  the  gardeners  place  it  in 
their  show-beds,  it  seems  as  cold  and  unlovable  as  if  it  was 
wrought  of  steel.  Yet,  should  we  ever  think  it  so  if  we  found  it 
rising  stem  by  stem  amongst  the  looser  grass,  in  such  meadows 
as  the  Harebell,  Milkwort,  or  Eyebright  (Euphrasia)  will  often 
enter,  or  perhaps  in  closer  tufts  on  open  banks  of  gravel  ?  I  have 
chosen  localities  altogether  imaginary,  and  am,  of  course,  well 
aware  that  the  plant's  colours  are  too  bright  to  associate  easily 
with  the  tints  of  our  native  flowers. — Flowers  mid  Gardens. 

— ^yWVv — 

^yOU  have  heard  it  said — (and  I  believe  there  is  more  than  JOHN 

*       fancy  even  in  that  saying,  but  let  it  pass  for  a  fanciful  one)  RUSKIN 
— that  flowers  only  flourish  rightly  in  the  garden  of  some  one  who 

T 


2  90  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

loves  them.  I  know  you  would  like  that  to  be  true ;  you  would 
think  it  a  pleasant  magic  if  you  could  flush  your  flowers  into 
brighter  bloom  by  a  kind  look  upon  them :  nay,  more,  if  your 
look  had  the  power,  not  only  to  cheer,  but  to  guard ; — if  you 
could  bid  the  black  blight  turn  away,  and  the  knotted  caterpillar 
spare — if  you  could  bid  the  dew  fall  upon  them  in  the  drought, 
and  say  to  the  south  wind  in  frost — 'Come,  thou  south,  and 
breathe  upon  my  garden  that  the  spices  of  it  may  flow  out.'  This 
you  would  think  a  great  thing?  And  do  you  think  it  not  a 
greater  thing,  that  all  this  (and  how  much  more  than  this !)  you 
cati  do,  for  fairer  flowers  than  these — flowers  that  could  bless  you 
for  having  blessed  them,  and  will  love  you  for  having  loved  them  ; 
— flowers  that  have  thoughts  like  yours,  and  lives  like  yours ;  and 
which,  once  saved,  you  save  for  ever !  Is  this  only  a  little  power  ? 
Far  among  the  moorlands  and  the  rocks, — far  in  the  darkness  of 
the  terrible  streets, — these  feeble  florets  are  lying,  with  all  their 
fresh  leaves  torn,  and  their  stems  broken :  will  you  never  go  down 
to  them,  nor  set  them  in  order  in  their  little  fragrant  beds,  nor 
fence  them,  in  their  trembling,  from  the  fierce  wind?  Shall 
morning  follow  morning  for  you,  but  not  for  them ;  and  the  dawn 
rise,  to  watch,  far  away,  those  frantic  Dances  of  Death ;  but  no 
dawn  rise  to  breathe  upon  those  living  banks  of  wild  violet,  and 
woodbine  and  rose ;  nor  call  to  you,  through  your  casement — call 
(not  giving  you  the  name  of  the  English  poet's  lady,  but  the  name 
of  Dante's  great  Matilda,  who,  on  the  edge  of  happy  Lethe,  stood, 
wreathing  flowers  with  flowers),  saying  : 

'  Come  into  the  garden,  Maud, 

For  the  black  bat,  night,  has  flown. 
And  the  woodbine  spices  are  wafted  abroad. 
And  the  musk  of  the  roses  blown  '  ? 

Will  you  not  go  down  among  them  ?  Among  those  sweet  living 
things  whose  new  courage,  sprung  from  the  earth  with  the  deep 
colour  of  heaven  upon  it,  is  starting  up  in  strength  of  goodly  spire ; 
and  whose  purity,  washed  from  the  dust,  is  opening,  bud  by  bud, 
into  the  flower  of  promise ; — and  still  they  turn  to  you,  and  for 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD  291 

you,    '  The   Larkspur   listens — I    hear,    I   hear !     And   the    Lily 
whispers — I  wait.' — Sesame  and  Lilies.     {Of  Queen'' s  Gardens^ 

— ■A/\/Vi — 

'  T/te  English  Sainte  Betive,'  who,  with  George  Meredith  and  Walter  Pater,  MATTHEW 
fortns  the  Triad  of  ^  puissant  voices^  in  the  literature  of  the  passing  generation,  ARNOLD 
as  he  himself  called  Carlyle,  Emerson  and  Newmati,  of  his  own  earlier  day.        Uo23-i»5oJ. 

npHE  College  (Marlborough)  was  the  old  inn,  but  I  did  not 
*•  know  that  this  inn  was  the  old  home  of  the  Hertford 
family,  a  house  built  by  Inigo  Jones,  and  in  a  style  I  particularly 
like  and  admire.  The  old  garden,  bowling-green,  sward,  and  yew- 
trees  still  subsist,  and  give  an  air  to  the  place  of  age  and  of  style 
beyond  anything  that  Harrow  or  Rugby  can  show.^ — Letter  to  his 
mother,  Nove^nber  12,  187 1. 

Cobham,  Surrey,  will  find  me.  The  cottage  we  have  got  there 
is  called  Pain's  Hill  Cottage.  The  country  is  beautiful — more 
beautiful  even  than  the  Chilterns,  because  it  has  heather  and 
pines,  while  the  trees  of  other  kinds,  in  the  valley  of  the  Mole, 
where  we  are,  are  really  magnificent.  We  are  planting  and  im- 
proving about  our  cottage,  as  if  it  were  our  own,  and  we  had  a 
hundred  years  to  live  there;  its  great  merit  is  that  it  must  have 
had  nearly  one  hundred  years  of  life  already  and  is  surrounded 
by  great  old  trees — not  the  raw  new  sort  of  villa  one  has  generally 
to  take  if  one  wants  a  small  house  near  London. 

It  is  a  hoar  frost,  and  you  should  see  the  squirrels  scampering 
about  the  lawn  for  the  nuts  we  strew  there.  We  have  also  a 
jackdaw  who  visits  us  and  is  becoming  very  tame.  But  my 
delight  at  present  is  in  the  blackbirds  and  thrushes,  who  abound, 

^  Arnold  makes  no  mention  of  the  Mound  situated  in  '  the  wilderness ' — 
perhaps  the  largest  of  its  kind  in  England.  '  Such  a  mound  (as  at  Wressel, 
mentioned  by  Leland)  still  exists  at  the  Castle  Inn  at  Marlborough,  not 
ascended  by  steps  or  degrees,  but  by  a  winding  path,  covered  with  ancient 
yew-trees.' — Loudon. 


292  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

and  sing  indefatigably.     Now  I  must  take  a  turn  round  the  place 
and  then  work  at  my  Goethe. — December  1877. 

And  I  do  very  much  enjoy  the  life  at  home,  with  half  an  hour 
in  the  garden  every  morning,  and  two  hours  in  the  lanes  every 
afternoon.  The  aconites  are  coming  out,  and  as  for  the  primroses 
they  are  all  over  the  place.  I  have  been  repairing  the  ravages 
made  by  the  elm-tree's  fall,  and  really  with  cupressuses  and  thujas 
the  gap  has  lost  its  horror  already,  and  will  be  quite  filled  up  in 
a  year  or  two. — 1882. 

The  colour  has  come  at  last,  and  the  horse-chestnuts  and 
poplars  are  a  sight.  I  go  about  the  garden — I  cannot  come  in  to 
work — examine  the  acorns  on  the  Turkey  Oak,  with  their  curly- 
haired  cups,  which  I  had  never  noticed  before;  they  are  very 
effective.  Then  I  give  Flu,  who  is  driving  to  Lady  EUesmere,  a 
Duchesse  pear  to  take  to  her,  who  says  she  shall  carry  it  to  her 
gardener  to  show  him  how  much  finer  pears  are  grown  at  the  Cottage 
than  at  Burwood.  Then  I  go  to  pick  up  some  Spanish  chestnuts. 
At  last  I  come  in  to  work. — To  Miss  Arnold,  October  29,  1886. 

You  can  imagine  the  relief  with  which  I  have  been  going  about 
the  garden  this  morning  and  planting.  Numbers  of  summer 
flowers— the  red  salvia,  for  instance — are  blooming.  The  birds 
are  happy  in  the  open  weather,  and  the  sweet  robins  keep  following 
Collis  and  me  about  as  we  open  the  ground  to  plant  rhododen- 
drons.— Letter  to  his  eldest  daughter^  November  13,  1886.  {Letters 
of  Matthew  Arnold,  by  G.  W.  E.  Russell.) 

WILLIAM  /^UR  suburban  gardeners  in  London,  for  instance,  oftenest 
MORRIS  V-/  wind  about  their  little  bit  of  gravel  walk  and  grass  plot 
in  ridiculous  imitation  of  an  ugly  big  garden  of  the  landscape- 
gardening  style,  and  then  with  a  strange  perversity  fill  up  the 
spaces  with  the  most  formal  plants  they  can  get ;  whereas  the 
merest    common-sense    should    have    taught    them    to    lay    out 


WILLIAM  MORRIS  293 

their  morsel  of  ground  in  the  simplest  way,  to  fence  it  as 
orderly  as  might  be,  one  part  from  the  other — if  it  be  big 
enough  for  that — and  the  whole  from  the  road,  and  then  to 
fill  up  the  flower-growing  space  with  things  that  are  free  and 
interesting  in  their  growth,  leaving  Nature  to  do  the  desired 
complexity,  which  she  will  certainly  not  fail  to  do,  if  we  do 
not  desert  her  for  the  florist,  who,  I  must  say,  has  made  it 
harder  work  than  it  should  be  to  get  the  best  of  flowers.  .  .  . 

As  to  colour  in  gardens.  Flowers  in  masses  are  might}' 
strong  colour,  and  if  not  used  with  a  great  deal  of  caution 
are  very  destructive  to  pleasure  in  gardening.  On  the  whole, 
I  think  the  best  and  safest  plan  is  to  mix  up  your  flowers,  and 
rather  eschew  great  masses  of  colour — in  combination,  I  mean. 
But  there  are  some  flowers — inventions  of  men,  i.e.  florists — 
which  are  bad  colour  altogether,  and  not  to  be  used  at  all. 
Scarlet  geraniums,  for  instance,  or  the  yellow  calceolaria,  which, 
indeed,  are  not  uncommonly  grown  together  profusely,  in  order, 
I  suppose,  to  show  that  even  flowers  can  be  thoroughly  ugly. 

And  now  to  sum  up  as  to  a  garden.  Large  or  small,  it  should 
look  both  orderly  and  rich.  It  should  be  well  fenced  from  the 
outside  world.  It  should  by  no  means  imitate  either  the  wilful- 
ness or  the  wildness  of  Nature,  but  should  look  like  a  thing  never 
to  be  seen  except  near  a  house.  It  should,  in  fact,  look  hke  a 
part  of  the  house.  It  follows  from  this  that  no  private  pleasure- 
garden  should  be  very  big,  and  a  public  garden  should  be  divided 
and  made  to  look  like  so  many  flower-closes  in  a  meadow,  or 
a  wood,  or  amidst  the  pavement. 

It  will  be  a  key  to  right  thinking  about  gardens  if  you  will 
consider  in  what  kind  of  places  a  garden  is  most  desired.  In  a 
very  beautiful  country,  especially  if  it  be  mountainous,  we  can  do 
without  it  well  enough ;  whereas  in  a  flat  and  dull  country  we 
crave  after  it,  and  there  it  is  often  the  very  making  of  the  home- 
stead. While  in  great  towns,  gardens,  both  private  and  public, 
are  positive  necessities  if  the  citizens  are  to  live  reasonable  and 
healthy  lives  in  body  and  mind. — Hopes  and  Fears  for  Art. 
('  Making  the  Best  of  it:) 


294  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

WALTER  n^HE  worship  of  Demeter  belongs  to  that  older  religion,  nearer 
f^J^F^  ^°  ^^^  earth,  which  some  have  thought  they  could  discern 

■^  '   behind  the  more  definitely  national  mythology  of  Homer.     She  is 

the  goddess  of  dark  caves,  and  is  not  wholly  free  from  monstrous 
form.  She  gave  men  the  first  fig  in  one  place,  the  first  poppy  in 
another ;  in  another  she  first  taught  the  old  Titans  to  mow.  She 
is  the  mother  of  the  vine  also ;  and  the  assumed  name,  by  which 
she  called  herself  in  her  wanderings  is  Dos — a  gift ;  the  crane,  as 
the  harbinger  of  rain,  is  her  messenger  among  the  birds.  She 
knows  the  magic  powers  of  certain  plants,  cut  from  her  bosom,  to 
bane  or  bless ;  and,  under  one  of  her  epithets,  herself  presides 
over  the  springs,  as  also  coming  from  the  secret  places  of  the 
earth.  She  is  the  goddess  then  of  the  fertility  of  the  earth,  in  its 
wildness ;  and  so  far  her  attributes  are  to  some  degree  confused 
with  those  of  the  Thessalian  Gaia  and  the  Phrygian  Cybele. 
Afterwards,  and  it  is  now  that  her  most  characteristic  attributes 
begin  to  concentrate  themselves,  she  separates  herself  from  these 
confused  relationships,  as  specially  the  goddess  of  agriculture,  of 
the  fertility  of  the  earth  as  furthered  by  human  skill.  She  is  the 
preserver  of  the  seed  sown  in  hope,  under  many  epithets  derived 
from  the  incidents  of  vegetation,  as  the  simple  countr3Tnan  names 
her,  out  of  a  mind  full  of  the  various  experiences  of  his  little 
garden  or  farm.  She  is  the  most  definite  embodiment  of  all  those 
fluctuating  mystical  instincts,  of  which  Gaia,  the  mother  of  the 
earth's  gloomier  offspring,  is  a  vaguer  and  mistier  one.  There  is 
nothing  of  the  confused  outline,  the  mere  shadowiness  of  mystical 
dreaming,  in  this  most  concrete  human  figure.  No  nation,  less 
aesthetically  gifted  than  the  Greeks,  could  have  so  lightly  thrown 
its  mystical  surmise  and  divination  into  images  so  clear  and 
idyllic  as  those  of  the  solemn  goddess  of  the  country,  in  whom 
the  characteristics  of  the  mother  are  expressed  with  so  much 
tenderness,  and  the  '  beauteous  head '  of  Kore,  then  so  fresh  and 
peaceful. — '  TAe  Myth  of  Demeter  and  Persephone.' 

— 'A/VW- 


B 


VERNON  LEE  295 

OCCACCIO  and  the  Italians  more  usually  employ  the  word  'VERNON 


orto,  which  has  lost  its  Latin  signification,  and  is  a  place, 
as  we  learn  from  the  context,  planted  with  fruit-trees  and 
with  pot-herbs.  .  .  .  But  although  in  this  story  (of  Madonna 
Dianora)  Boccaccio  employs  the  word  giardino,  instead  of  orto, 
I  think  we  must  imagine  that  magic  flower  garden  rather  as 
a  corner — they  still  exist  on  every  hillside — of  orchard  con- 
nected with  the  fields  of  wheat  and  olives  below  by  the  long 
tunnels  of  vine  trellis,  and  dying  away  into  them  with  the 
great  tufts  of  lavender  and  rosemary  and  fennel  on  the  grassy 
bank  under  the  cherry  trees.  This  piece  of  terraced  ground 
along  which  the  water — spurted  from  the  dolphin's  mouth  or 
the  sirens'  breasts — runs  through  walled  channels, ,  refreshing 
impartially  violets  and  salads,  lilies  and  tall  flowering  onions, 
under  the  branches  of  the  peach  tree  and  the  pomegranate,  to 
where  in  the  shade  of  the  great  pink  oleander  tufts,  it  pours  out 
below  into  the  big  tank,  for  the  maids  to  rinse  their  linen  in 
the  evening,  and  the  peasants  to  fill  their  cans  to  water  the 
bedded-out  tomatoes  and  the  potted  clove-pinks  in  the  shadow 
of  the  house.  .  .  . 

Now  this  poverty  of  flower-beds  and  richness  of  pots  made 
it  easy  and  natural  for  the  Italian  garden  to  become,  like  the 
Moorish  one,  a  place  of  mere  greenery  and  water,  a  palace 
whose  fountains  plashed  in  sunny  yards  walled  in  with  myrtle 
and  bay,  in  mysterious  chambers  roofed  over  with  ilex  and  box. 
And  this  it  became.  Moderately  at  first ;  a  few  hedges  of  box 
and  cypress — exhahng  its  resinous  breath  in  the  sunshine — 
leading  up  to  the  long,  flat,  Tuscan  house,  with  its  tower  or 
pillared  loggia  under  the  roof  to  take  the  air  and  dry  linen ;  a 
few  quaintly  cut  trees  set  here  and  there,  along  with  the  twisted 
mulberry  tree  where  the  family  drank  its  wine  and  ate  its  fruit  of 
an  evening ;  a  little  grove  of  ilexes  to  the  back,  in  whose  shade 
you  could  sleep,  while  the  cicalas  buzzed  at  noon;  some  cypresses 
gathered  together  into  a  screen,  just  to  separate  the  garden  from 
the  olive  yard  above ;  gradually  perhaps  a  balustrade  set  at  the 
end  of  the  bowling-green,  that  you  might  see,  even  from  a  distance, 


LEE.' 


296  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

the  shimmery  blue  valley  below  —  the  pale  blue  distant  hills; 
and  if  you  had  it,  some  antique  statue,  not  good  enough  for  the 
courtyard  of  the  town  house,  set  on  the  balustrade  or  against 
the  tree ;  also,  where  water  was  plentiful,  a  little  grotto  scooped 
out  under  that  semicircular  screen  of  cypresses.  A  very  modest 
place,  but  differing  essentially  from  the  orchard  and  kitchen- 
garden  of  the  mediaeval  burgher ;  and  out  of  which  come  some- 
thing immense  and  unique — the  classic  Roman  villa. 

For  your  new  gardens,  your  real  Italian  garden,  brings  in  a  new 
elpment — that  of  perspective,  architecture,  decoration  ;  the  trees 
used  as  building  material,  the  lie  of  the  land  as  theatre  arrange- 
ments, the  water  as  the  most  docile  and  multiform  stage  pro- 
perty. .  .  . 

Now  go  where  you  may  in  the  outskirts  of  Rome  you  are 
sure  to  find  ruins — great  aqueduct  arches,  temples  half-standing, 
gigantic  terrace  works  belonging  to  some  baths  or  palace  hidden 
beneath  the  earth  and  vegetation.  Here  you  have  naturally  an 
element  of  architectural  ground-plan  and  decoration  which  is 
easily  followed :  the  terraces  of  quincunxes,  the  symmetrical 
groves,  the  long  flights  of  steps,  the  triumphal  arches,  the  big 
ponds,  come,  as  it  were,  of  them — obeying  the  order  of  what  is 
below.  And  from  underground,  everywhere,  issues  a  legion  of 
statues,  headless,  armless,  in  all  stages  of  mutilation,  who  are 
charitably  mended  and  take  their  place,  mute  sentinels,  white 
and  earth-stained,  at  every  intersecting  box  hedge,  under  every 
ilex  grove,  beneath  the  cypresses  of  each  sweeping  hillside 
avenue,  wherever  a  tree  can  make  a  niche  or  a  bough  a  canopy. 
— Limbo  and  other  Essays.     {Old  Italiati  Gardens.) 

— •j\/\/\fj— 

ALICE  CORGOTTEN  by  the  side  of  some  rosy  palace  by  the  Adriatic, 

MEYNELL     1        j|.g  fountain  overrun  with  maidenhair,  its  gold  fish  twinkling 

in  the  marble  font,  and  grass  growing  gaily  and  wildly  where  it 

will,  the  garden  that  once  was  trimmest  has  a  delight  and  a  spirit 

that  it  could  not  have  without  precisely  that  past  of  artifice  and 


ALICE  MEYNELL  297 

ceremony.  No  prosperity  except  that  of  summer,  no  order  that  is 
not  sweetly  made  light  of  while  it  is  carelessly  fulfilled,  and  all 
access  open  by  way  of  the  sunny  air,  so  that  no  seeds  are  denied 
an  anchorage  in  this  port  and  harbour  of  the  winds.  A  trim 
garden  that  is  no  longer  trim  is  full  of  frolic.  A  trim  garden  that 
is  still  trim  has  a  kind  of  comeliness  as  an  accessory  of  architecture. 
It  is,  at  any  rate,  a  garden  and  not  a  landscape. 

For  obviously  the  landscape  garden,  called  abroad  the  English 
garden,  is  the  thing  most  at  fault.  The  English  garden  is  like 
'  English  glass ' — that  is,  cut  glass.  Both  things  are  a  kind  of 
adulteration.  Both  things  were  eagerly  admired  and  imitated  on 
the  Continent. 

Landscape  gardening,  literally,  would  have  been  a  good  thing — 
the  enclosure  of  the  half-wild  copse,  the  arbitrary  capture  and 
captivity  of  a  space  of  wood,  meadow,  stream,  and  bank,  and  the 
mere  harbourage  of  wild  flowers  ;  it  would  be  the  field  with  all  its 
accidents  secure  from  spoiling.  But  landscape-gardening  that 
implies^sinuous  walks  and  futile  hillocks,  and  those  dullest  of  all 
dull  things — shrubs — can  never  have  given  any  genuine  joy  to  man. 

Everyone  knows  that  'landscape  garden.'  It  has  improbable 
knolls  and  hollows,  closely  and  accurately  fitted  with  a  green 
sward  on  which  show  no  daisies.  The  shrubs  grow  in  groups, 
very  round  of  shape,  and  dense  to  the  penetration  of  the  alert 
and  eager  glimpses  of  the  sky.  Its  trees  are  rarely  deciduous,  or, 
if  so,  are  of  the  fuller  and  thicker  kind  ;  it  has  no  slender  aspens, 
caught  and  mingled  with  the  light,  and  alive  with  the  wind  and 
weather.  It  has  chiefly  evergreens  of  the  rarer  kinds,  having  their 
lower  branches  so  near  the  ground  as  to  show  no  stems.  '  All 
the  Psalms  are  good,'  says  Mrs  Pendennis.  All  trees  are  good, 
but  those  are  the  least  good. 

See,  however,  how  charming  is  a  fruit-garden,  or  that  still 
simpler  fruit-garden,  an  orchard.  All  fruit-trees  are  at  play  with 
the  light  and  at  peace  with  the  sky.  There  is  nothing  in  the 
world  more  peaceful  than  apple-leaves  with  an  early  moon.  The 
grass  beneath  them  is  not  cropped  of  daisies,  or  fitted  and  clipped 
as  if  by  an  able  dressmaker.    Let  the  garden  be  a  vegetable  garden 


298  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

with  fruit-trees,  with  gooseberry  bushes  to  give  the  first  buds  of 
leaves,  and  let  there  be  slender  flowers  all  along  the  edges,  and  a 
concourse  of  standard  rose-trees  for  the  sake  of  gathering  the 
roses,  peas  in  rows  and  rows,  with  the  twigs  they  grow  upon 
delicate  against  the  light ;  all  gentle  and  fortunate  and  useful- 
How  has  the  world  so  long  taken  so  much  trouble  to  make  less 
lovely  things  out  of  those  fine  materials — the  blossoming  earth  and 
the  fostering  sky  ?  Pity  is  it  that  the  word  garden  should  so  be 
vulgarized  by  worldly  gardens.  It  is  an  early  word  to  all  men, 
one  of  the  earliest  of  words.  It  is  an  Orient  word,  fresh  and 
perpetual  from  childhood  and  the  Divine  East.  A  garden  of 
oUves,  a  garden  of  cucumbers,  a  garden  of  herbs,  a  vineyard,  a 
garden  enclosed — all  these  have  the  gravity  of  use  and  labour,  and 
are  as  remote  as  memory,  and  as  familiar,  secluded,  and  secret. 

— -Af^/Vj — 

HENRY  A.  /^NEof  the  greatest  ornaments  to  a  garden  is  a  fountain,  but 
*  ^-^  many  fountains  are  curiously  ineffective.  A  fountain  is  most 
beautiful  when  it  leaps  high  into  the  air,  and  you  can  see  it  against 
a  background  of  green  foliage.  To  place  a  fountain  among  low 
flower-beds,  and  then  to  substitute  small  fancy  jets  that  take  the 
shape  of  a  cup,  or  trickle  over  into  a  basin  of  gold-fish,  or  toy  with 
a  gilded  ball,  is  to  do  all  that  is  possible  to  degrade  it.  The  real 
charm  of  a  fountain  is,  when  you  come  upon  it  in  some  little  grassy 
glade  of  the  '  pleasaunce,'  where  it  seems  as  though  it  sought,  in 
the  strong  rush  of  its  waters,  to  vie  with  the  tall  boles  of  the  forest- 
trees  that  surround  it.  Such  was  the  fountain  in  Leigh  Hunt's 
Sfory  of  Rimini,  which  shot  up  '  beneath  a  shade  of  darksome 
pines,' 

'  And  'twixt  their  shafts  you  saw  the  water  bright, 
Which  through  the  tops  glimmered  with  show'ring  light.' 

****** 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  gardens  I  ever  knew  depended  almost 
entirely  on  the  arrangement  of  its  lawns  and  shrubberies.     It  had 


GEORGE  MILNER  299 

certainly  been  most  carefully  and  adroitly  planned,  and  it  had 
every  advantage  in  the  soft  climate  of  the  west  of  England.  The 
various  lawns  were  divided  by  thick  shrubberies,  so  that  you 
wandered  on  from  one  to  the  other,  and  always  came  on  some- 
thing new.  In  front  of  these  shrubberies  was  a  large  margin  of 
flower-border,  gay  with  the  most  effective  plants  and  annuals.  At 
the  corner  of  the  lawn  a  standard  Magnolia  grandiflora  of  great 
size  held  up  its  chaliced  blossoms ;  at  another  a  tulip-tree  was  laden 
with  hundreds  of  yellow  flowers.  Here  a  magnificent  Salisburia 
mocked  the  foliage  of  the  maiden-hair ;  and  here  an  old  cedar 
swept  the  grass  with  its  large  pendant  branches.  But  the  main 
breadth  of  each  lawn  was  never  destroyed,  and  past  them  you 
might  see  the  reaches  of  a  river,  now  in  one  aspect  and  now  in 
another.  Each  view  was  different,  and  each  was  a  fresh  enjoyment 
and  surprise. 

A  few  years  ago,  and  I  revisited  the  place ;  the  '  improver '  had 
been  at  work,  and  had  been  good  enough  to  open  up  the  view. 
Shrubberies  had  disappeared,  and  lawns  had  been  thrown  together. 
The  pretty  peeps  among  the  trees  were  gone,  the  long  vistas  had 
become  open  spaces,  and  you  saw  at  a  glance  all  that  there  was  to 
be  seen.  Of  course  the  herbaceous  borders,  which  once  contained 
numberless  rare  and  interesting  plants,  had  disappeared,  and  the 
lawn  in  front  of  the  house  was  cut  up  into  little  beds  of  red  pelar- 
goniums, yellow  calceolarias,  and  the  rest. — The  English  Flower- 
Garden. 

IT  is  said  that  a  garden  should  always  be  considered  simply  and  GEORGE 

-^     wholly  as  a  work  of  art,  and  should  not  be  made  to  look  like  MILNER. 

Nature.     That  is  true  enough.     Nothing,  indeed,  can  be  in  worse 

taste   than  the  landscape-gardener's  imitations  of  Nature.     But 

there  is  another  plan.     If  your  garden  be  large  enough  you  can 

let  Nature  have  her  own  way  in  certain  parts  of  it.     This  takes 

time,  but  the  result  is  eminently  delightful.     For  the  most  part 

o  u  have  only  to  stand  aside  and  watch.     If  anything  at  all  be 

done  it  should  only  be  a  little  judicious  pruning — accomplished 


300  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

in  such  a  way  that  it  need  not  be  observed — and  the  blending  by 
unobtrusive  gradations  of  the  artificial  with  the  natural.  I  well 
remember  how  skilfully  this  was  done  in  that  'careless  order'd 
garden '  of  the  late  Laureate,  at  Freshwater,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
where — 

'  Groves  of  pine  on  either  hand, 
To  break  the  blast  of  winter,  stand  ; 
And  farther  on,  the  hoary  Channel 
Tumbles  a  breaker  on  chalk  and  sand.' 

And,  curiously  enough,  the  only  other  garden  which  I  invariably 
think  of  in  this  connection  is  that  of  Tennyson's  predecessor. 
However  it  may  be  to-day,  I  know  that  thirty  years  ago  that 
which  struck  me  most  at  Rydal  Mount,  and  which  appeared  to  me 
its  greatest  charm,  was  this  union  of  the  garden  and  the  wilderness. 
You  passed  almost  imperceptibly  from  the  trim  parterre  to  the 
noble  wood,  and  from  the  narrow,  green  vista  to  that  wide  sweep 
of  lake  and  mountain  which  made  up  one  of  the  finest  landscapes 
in  England.  Nor  could  you  doubt  that  this  unusual  combination 
was  largely  the  result  of  the  poet's  own  care  and  arrangement. 
He  had  the  faculty  for  such  work.  .  .  . 

By  this  time  I  have  got  round  to  the  old  English  flower-bed, 
where  only  perennials  with  an  ancient  ancestry  are  allowed  to 
grow.  Here  there  is  always  delight ;  and  I  should  be  sorry  to 
exchange  its  sweet  flowers  for  any  number  of  cartloads  of  scentless 
bedding-plants,  mechanically  arranged  and  ribbon-bordered.  This 
bed  is  from  fifty  to  sixty  yards  long,  and  three  or  four  yards  in 
width.  A  thorn  hedge  divides  it  from  the  orchard.  In  spring 
the  apple-bloom  hangs  over,  and  now  we  see  in  the  background 
the  apples  themselves.  The  plants  still  in  flower  are  the  dark- 
blue  monks  hood,  which  is  seven  feet  high ;  the  spiked  veronica ; 
the  meadow-sweet  or  queen-of-the-meadow ;  the  lady's  mantle, 
and  the  evening  primrose.  This  last  may  be  regarded  as  the 
characteristic  plant  of  the  season.  The  flowers  open  about  seven 
o'clock,  and  as  the  twilight  deepens,  they  gleam  like  pale  lamps, 
and  harmonise  wonderfully  with  the  colour  of  the  sky.     On  this 


ALFRED  AUSTIN  301 

bed  1  read  the  history  of  the  year.  Here  were  the  first  snow- 
drops ;  here  came  the  crocuses,  the  daffodils,  the  blue  gentians, 
the  columbines,  the  great  globed  peonies ;  and,  last,  the  lilies  and 
the  roses. — Country  Pleasures.  {The  Chronicle  of  a  Year,  chiefly  in 
a  Garden^ 

A  GARDEN  that  one  makes  oneself  becomes  associated  with  ALFRED 
■'*•  one's  personal  history  and  that  of  one's  friends,  interwoven  ^  jf^f 
with  one's  tastes,  preferences  and  character,  and  constitutes  a 
sort  of  unwritten  but  withal  manifest,  autobiography.  Show 
me  your  garden,  provided  it  be  your  own,  and  I  will  tell  you 
what  you  are  like.  It  is  in  middle  life  that  the  finishing  touches 
should  be  put  to  it ;  and  then,  after  that,  it  should  remain 
more  or  less  in  the  same  condition,  like  oneself,  growing  more 
deep  of  shade,  and  more  protected  from  the  winds.  .  .  . 

'Tell  me,  will  you,  what  governed  you  in  the  laying  out  of 
the  Garden  that  you  Love  ? ' 

'  What  governed  me  was  what  I  found  here :  the  house,  its 
time-consecrated  architecture,  its  immovable  boundaries,  the 
old  oak,  and  not  it  only,  but  all  the  ineradicable  old  timber 
within  sight,  the  park,  and  finally,  when  all  these  were  allowed 
for,  the  general  fitness  of  things.  I  am  quite  of  opinion  that 
a  garden  should  look  as  though  it  belonged  to  the  house, 
and  the  house  as  though  it  were  conscious  of  and  approved 
the  garden.  In  passing  from  one  to  the  other,  one  should 
experience  no  sense  of  discord,  but  the  sensations  produced  by 
the  one  should  be  continued,  with  a  dehcate  difference,  by 
the  other.  Terraces  and  balustrades,  box  edgings,  or  yew 
hedges,  anything  obviously  and  intentionally  formal,  which 
is  imperative  in  the  case  of  certain  stately  dwelling-houses, 
would  surely  have  been  out  of  place  here.  Near  to  the  house, 
the  garden,  you  will  have  observed,  is  more  formal  and  shapely, 
and  you  never,  I  trust,  altogether  lose  vague  evidences  of 
design.  But  absolutely  symmetrical  it  is  not,  though  a  care- 
less observer  might  imagine  it  to  be  so,  and  it  gradually  assumes 


302  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

a  less  definite  and  disciplined  air  as  it  gets  nearer  to  the  tract 
of  orchard,  meadow,  and  park,  to  which  it  is  sunnily  open 
and  which  it  commands.  Thus  I  have  obtained,  I  think,  a 
certain  sense  of  spontaneous  seclusion,  without  wholly  shutting 
myself  in,  or  wholly  shutting  out  everybody  or  everything  else. 
Of  course,  there  are  nooks  of  perfect  shelter,  as  Goldsmith  said, 
for  whispering  lovers  made ;  and  the  South  Enclosure  curves 
and  winds  as  it  chooses,  as  though  there  were  no  other  curve 
or  line  in  the  world.  Poet's  Walk  comes  on  you  as  a  surprise ; 
and  when  you  think  you  have  seen  everything,  you  suddenly 
discover  the  copse  kitchen-garden,  which,  I  confess,  contains 
fully  as  many  flowers  as  vegetables,  and  conducts  to  an  orchard 
whose  existence  you  had  not  surmised. — The  Garden  that  I  Love. 

EMILE  C  OUS  ce  poudroieraent  de  flammes  (du  soleil)  le  grand  jardin 
ZOLA  <J  vivait  avec  une  extravagance  de  bete  heureuse,  lachee  au 
'  bout  du  monde,  loin  de  tout,  libre  du  tout.  C'etait  une  debauche 
telle  de  feuillages,  une  maree  d'herbes  si  debordante,  qu'il  etait 
comme  derobe  d'un  bout  a  I'autre,  inonde,  noye.  Rien  que  des 
pentes  vertes,  des  tiges  ayant  des  jaillissements  de  fontaine,  des 
masses  moutonnantes,  des  rideaux  de  forets  hermetiquement  tires, 
des  manteaux  de  plantes  grimpantes  trainant  k  terre,  des  voices 
de  rameaux  gigantesques  s'abattant  de  tous  cotes. 

A  peine  pouvait-on,  a  la  longue,  reconnaitre  sous  cat  envahisse- 
ment  formidable  de  la  seve  I'ancien  dessin  du  Paradou.  En  face, 
dans  une  sorte  de  cirque  immense,  devait  se  trouver  le  parterre, 
avec  ses  bassins  effondres,  ses  rampes  rompues,  ses  escaliers 
dejetes,  ses  statues  renversees  dont  on  apercevait  les  blancheurs 
en  fond  des  gazons  noirs.  Plus  loin,  derriere  la  ligne  bleue  d'une 
nappe  d'eau  s'etalait  un  fouillis  d'arbres  fruitiers ;  plus  loin  encore 
une  haute  futaie  enfongait  ses  dessous  violatres,  rayes  de  lumiere, 
une  foret  redevenue  vierge,  dont  les  cimes  se  mammelonnaient 
sans  fin,  tachees  du  vert  jaune,  du  vert  pale,  du  vert  puissant 
de  toutes  les  essences.     A  droite,  la  foret  escaladait  des  hauteurs, 


REGINALD  BLOMFIELD  303 

plantait  des  petits  bois  de  pins,  se  mourait  en  broussailles  maigres, 
tandis  que  des  roches  nues  entassaient  une  rampe  enorme,  un  ecroule- 
ment  de  montagne  barrant  I'horizon ;  des  vegetations  ardentes  y 
fendaient  le  sol,  plantes  monstrueuses  immobiles  dans  la  chaleur, 
comma  des  reptiles  assoupis  ;  un  filet  d'argent,  un  eclabousse- 
ment  qui  ressemblait  de  loin  a  une  poussiere  de  perles,  y  indiquait 
une  chute  d'eau,  la  source  de  ces  eaux  calines  qui  longeaient  si 
indolemment  le  parterre.  A  gauche  enfin,  la  riviere  coulait  au 
milieu  d'une  vaste  prairie,  ou  elle  se  separait  en  quatre  ruisseaux, 
dent  on  suivait  les  caprices  sous  les  roseaux,  entre  les  saules, 
derriere  les  grands  arbres  ;  a  perte  de  vue,  des  pieces  d'herbage 
elargissaient  la  fraicheur  des  terrains  bas,  un  paysage  lave  d'une 
buee  bleuatre,  une  eclaircie  de  jour  se  fondant  peu  a  peu  dans  le 
bleu  verdi  du  Couchant.  Le  Paradou,  le  parterre,  la  foret,  les 
roches,  les  eaux,  les  pres,  tenaient  toute  la  largeur  du  ciel. 

Le  Paradou !    balbutia    Serge  ouvrant  les  bras  comme  pour 
serrer  le  jardin  tout  entier  contre  sa  poitrine. 

La  Faute  de  FAbbe  Mouref} 


—MJ\fV^- 


T 


HE  characteristic  of  the  old  formal  garden,  the  garden  of  REGINALD 
Markham  and  Lawson,  was  its  exceeding  simplicity,  BLOMFIELD 

The  primary  purpose  of  a  garden  as  a  place  of  retirement  and  iniGO 


seclusion,  a  place  for  quiet  thought  and  leisurely  enjoyment  was  THOMAS, 
kept  steadily  in  view.     The  grass  and  the  yew-trees  were  trimmed 
close  to  gain  their  full  beauty  from  the  sunlight. 

Sweet  kindly  flowers  filled  the  knots  and  borders.  Peacocks 
and  pigeons  brightened  the  terraces  and  lawns.  The  paths  were 
straight  and  ample,  the  garden-house  solidly  built  and  comfort- 
able ;  everything  was  reasonable  and  unaffected.     But  this  simple 

^  Never,  perhaps,  has  the  fecundity,  the  exuberance,  one  might  almost 
say  the  debauchery,  of  Earth  and  her  Gardens  been  so  painted  as  in  this  book. 
We  feel  as  if  Nature  were  an  immeasurable  and  impersonal  Heliogabalus 
burying  the  world,  convened  as  guests  at  a  vast  garden-banquet,  beneath  a 
mighty  avalanche  of  flowers. 


304 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


genuine  delight  in  nature  and  art  became  feebler  as  the  seven- 
teenth century  grew  older. 

Gardening  became  the  fashionable  art,  and  this  was  the  golden 
age  for  professional  gardeners ;  but  the  real  pleasure  of  it  was 
gone.  Rows  of  statues  were  introduced  from  the  French,  costly 
architecture  superseded  the  simple  terrace,  intricate  parterres  were 
laid  out  from  gardeners'  pattern-books,  and  meanwhile  the  flowers 
were  forgotten.  It  was  well  that  all  this  pomp  should  be  swept 
away.  We  do  not  want  this  extravagant  statuary,  these  absurdities 
in  clipped  work,  this  aggressive  prodigality.  But  though  one 
would  admit  that  in  its  decay  the  formal  garden  became  un- 
manageable and  absurd,  the  abuse  is  no  argument  against  the 
use.  An  attempt  has  been  made  in  this  book  to  show  the 
essential  reasonableness  of  the  principles  of  Formal  Gardening, 
and  the  sanity  of  its  method  when  properly  handled.  The  long 
yew-hedge  is  clipped  and  shorn  because  we  want  its  firm  boundary 
lines  and  the  plain  mass  of  its  colour ;  the  grass  bank  is  formed 
into  a  definite  slope  to  attain  the  beauty  of  close-shaven  turf  at 
varied  angles  with  the  light.  The  broad  grass  walk,  with  its 
paved  footpath  in  the  centre,  is  cool  to  walk  upon  in  summer  and 
dry  on  the  pavement  in  winter ;  and  the  flower  border  on  either 
side  is  planted  with  every  kind  of  delightful  flower,  so  that  the 
refinements  of  its  colour  may  be  enjoyed  all  through  the  summer. 
— The  Fortnal  Garden  m  Efigland. 


•A/W'T 


MRS  J. 

FRANCIS 

FOSTER. 


A  GAIN,  with  our  hedges  and  formal  lines,  how  charmingly  might 
•**•  we  screen  off  lesser  gardens  within  gardens,  and  we  might, 
thus,  have  sweet  retired  places  for  lilies  of  sorts,  or  for  roses,  or 
for  specimens  of  all  British  flowers,  or  one  after  the  manner  of 
the  old  ^  gardina  sacristce,'  where  special  flowers  might  be  grown 
for  the  decking  of  our  churches.  Passing  through  these  we  might 
lead  to  a  pleasant  place  for  the  delight  of  the  antiquarian  gardener. 
Here  we  might,  for  instance,  please  ourselves  by  creating  the  re- 
flection of  a  mediaeval  garden.     Such  a  one  as  Chaucer  loved  to 


WILLIAM  ROBINSON  305 

describe,  saying  that  its  beauty  '  would  have  made  any  hearts 
light'  Such  a  one  as  that  in  which  the  'fayre'  Emilie  walked 
up  and  down  one  May  morning  long  ago,  gathering 

'  Flowers  partie  white  and  red 
To  make  a  subtle  garland  for  her  head.' 

This  garden,  as  we  have  seen,  should  be  square  of  shape,  it 
should  be  enclosed  with  walls,  and  with  trellis  work,  and  espaliers ; 
within  it  should  be  grown  quinces  and  pears,  plums,  cherries  and 
apples  of  many  kinds  and  also  bullaces  and  the  service-berries 
which,  English  bom  as  they  are,  have  been  forgotten  in  England. 
Also,  in  this  place,  we  must  have  a  medlar  tree  like  that  from 
which  the  goldfinch,  'leaping  prettily,'  sang  to  the  old  poet,  and 
we  .may  plant  an  Agnus  castus,  for  we  read  how  the  chief  lady  of 
the  company,  which  came  into  Chaucer's  dream,  bore  an  Agnus 
castus  branch.  Plant  also  Holly  trees  and  Spindle,  and  bushes 
of  Broom  and  of  Berberry,  and  a  Rowan  tree  which  we  must  have 
not  only  for  beauty  but  also  for  good  luck,  since  the  old  Ballads 
say  that  '  witches  have  no  power  where  there  is  roan-tree  wood.^ — 
On  the  Art  of  Gardening.      1881. 


-'A/W-- 


IN  some  writings  on  garden  design,  it  is  assumed  as  a  truism  that  WILLIAM 
*  the  landscape  and  naturalistic  view  of  that  design  was  the  ROBINSON. 
invention  of  certain  men,  and  a  mere  passing  fashion,  like  many 
that  have  disfigured  the  garden.  This  is  a  serious  error,  as  land- 
scape beauty  has  existed  ever  since  the  eyes  of  men  were  first 
opened  to  the  beauty  of  the  earth,  as  now  when  from  thousands  of 
places  in  England  beautiful  landscape  views  are  seen.  It  exists  in 
wild  mountain  woodland,  and  in  the  forest  plain,  apart  altogether 
from  man's  efforts,  as  seen  in  the  parks  of  England  from  Alnwick 
to  Richmond ;  and  in  either  case  it  is  too  lovely  a  lesson  to  forget 
so  long  as  man  has  any  eyes  to  see  beauty.  If  all  the  works  of 
man  in  landscape  planting  were  swept  away,  there  would  still  be 
beautiful  landscape  on  vast  areas  in  many  lands.     There  are  ten 

u 


3o6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

thousand  grassy  lawns  among  the  mountain  Pines  of  Switzerland, 
where  beautiful  things  are  seen  in  landscape,  as  there  are  on  the 
mountains  of  California  and  Cashmere,  and,  indeed,  the  many 
other  woody  mountain  lands  of  the  world. 

Apart  from  the  disposition  of  ground  and  its  form,  there  is  the 
question  of  the  arrangement  of  all  the  beautiful  things  of  earth — 
flower,  shrub,  or  tree  in  right  or  wrong  ways.  Here  there  were 
always  lessons  to  be  learned  :  lovely  colonies  of  Bird's-eye  Prim- 
rose in  the  bogs  of  Westmoreland ;  little  families  of  Gentian  by 
the  alpine  streams ;  groups  of  Venetian  Sumach  cropping  out  of 
the  hot  southern  rocks ;  groups  of  May  on  the  hill,  the  stately 
groves  of  the  lowland  forest,  and  the  Grey  Willows  of  the  marsh 
land.  In  planting  in  the  same  way  we  are  simply  learning  a 
lesson  direct  from  Nature,  and  not  carrying  out  a  mere  fashion. 
Even  the  creatures  of  earth  and  air  are  held  together  beautifully 
— wild  birds  in  the  air,  delicate  brown  flocks  of  them  by  the  cold 
northern  sea,  as  well  as  groups  of  nobler  birds  on  the  banks  of 
the  Nile  and  southern  rivers ;  the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills :  in 
no  other  way  could  their  forms  or  colours  be  so  well  seen.  And 
so  it  must  ever  be  in  the  garden  where  natural  grouping  is  the 
true  and  artistic  way. 

The  gardener  should  follow  the  true  artist,  however  modestly, 
in  his  love  for  things  as  they  are,  in  delight  in  natural  form  and 
beauty  of  flower  and  tree,  if  we  are  to  be  free  from  barren 
geometry,  and  if  our  gardens  are  ever  to  be  pictures.  The 
gardener  has  not  the  strenuous  work  of  eye  and  hand  that  the 
artist  has,  but  he  has  plenty  of  good  work  to  do  : — to  choose  from 
ten  thousand  beautiful  living  things ;  to  study  their  nature  and 
adapt  them  to  his  soil  and  climate ;  to  get  the  full  expression  of 
their  beauty ;  to  grow  and  place  them  well  and  in  right  relation 
to  other  things,  which  is  a  life-study  in  itself,  in  view  of  the  great 
numbers  of  the  flowers  and  flowering  trees  of  the  world.  And  as 
the  artist's  work  is  to  see  and  keep  for  us  some  of  the  beauty  of 
landscape,  tree,  or  flower,  so  the  gardener's  should  be  to  keep  for 
us  as  far  as  may  be,  in  the  fulness  of  their  natural  beauty,  the 
living  things  themselves.     The  artist  gives  us  the  fair  image  :  the 


WILLIAM  ROBINSON  307 

gardener  is  the  trustee  of  a  world  of  fair  living  things,  to  be  kept 
with  care  and  knowledge  in  necessary  subordination  to  human 
convenience,  and  to  the  conditions  of  his  work. — The  English 
Flower  Garden.     {^Nature  in  the  Garden.^ 

So  far  from  its  being  true,  that  high  mountain  plants  cannot  be 
cultivated,  there  is  no  alpine  flower  that  ever  cheered  the  traveller's 
eye  that  cannot  be  grown  in  these  islands.  What  are  alpine 
plants  ?  The  word  alpine  is  used  to  denote  the  vegetation  that 
grows  naturally  on  all  high  mountain-chains,  whether  they  spring 
from  tropical  plains  or  green  northern  pastures.  Above  the  culti- 
vated land  these  flowers  begin  to  occur  on  the  fringes  of  the 
woods ;  they  are  seen  in  multitudes  in  the  broad  pastures  with 
which  many  mountains  are  robed,  enamelling  their  green,  and 
where  neither  grass  nor  tall  herbs  exist ;  where  mountains  are 
crumbled  into  slopes  of  shattered  rock  by  the  contending  forces 
of  heat  and  cold ;  even  there,  amidst  the  glaciers,  they  spring 
from  the  ruined  ground,  as  if  the  earth-mother  had  sent  up  her 
loveliest  children  to  plead  with  the  spirits  of  destruction.  .  .  . 

Alpine  plants  possess  the  charm  of  endless  variety,  and  include 
things  widely  different : — tiny  orchids,  tree-like  moss,  and  ferns 
that  peep  from  crevices  of  alpine  cliffs,  often  so  small  that  they 
seem  to  cling  to  the  rocks  for  shelter,  not  daring  to  throw  forth 
their  fronds  with  airy  grace ;  bulbous  plants,  from  Lilies  to  Blue- 
bells ;  evergreen  shrubs,  perfect  in  leaf  and  blossom  and  fruit,  yet 
so  small  that  a  glass  would  make  a  house  for  them  ;  dwarfest 
creeping  plants,  spreading  over  the  brows  of  rocks,  draping  them 
with  lovely  colour;  Rockfoils  and  Stonecrops  no  bigger  than 
mosses,  and,  like  them,  mantling  the  earth  with  green  carpets  in 
winter ;  in  a  word,  alpine  plants  embrace  nearly  every  type  of  the 
plant-life  of  northern  lands. — The  English  Flower  Garden.  {Alpine 
Flower  and  Rock  Gardefis.) 


— ■W/'- 


'o8 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


PHIL 
ROBINSON. 


pLEASANT  indeed  is  my  Indian  Garden.  Here  in  a  green 
*  colonnade  stand  the  mysterious  broad-leaved  plantains  with 
their  strange  spikes  of  fruit — there  the  dark  mango.  In  a  grove 
together  the  spare-leaved  peepul,  that  sacred  yet  treacherous  tree 
that  drags  down  the  humble  shrine  which  it  was  placed  to 
sanctify  ;  the  shapely  tamarind,  with  its  clouds  of  foliage  ;  the 
graceful  neem  ;  the  patulous  teak,  with  its  great  leathern  leaves, 
and  the  bamboos  the  tree-cat  loves.  Below  them  grow  a  wealth 
of  roses,  the  lavender-blossomed  durantas,  the  cactus  grotesque  in 
growth,  the  poyntzettia  with  its  stars  of  scarlet,  the  spiky  aloes, 
the  sick-scented  jessamine,  and  the  quaint  coral-trees  ;  while  over 
all  shoots  up  the  palm.  The  citron,  lime,  and  orange-trees  are 
beautiful  alike  when  they  load  the  air  with  the  perfume  of  their 
waxen  flowers,  or  when  they  are  snowing  their  sweet  petals  about 
them,  or  when  heavy-fruited  they  trail  their  burdened  branches 
to  rest  their  yellow  treasure  on  the  ground. — In  my  Indian 
Gardefi.     ('  The  Birds.') 

—'Af\/\rj~ 


CHARLES 

DUDLEY 

WARNER. 


'^~^HE  man  who  has  planted  a  garden  feels  that  he  has  done 
*■  something  for  the  good  of  the  world.  He  belongs  to  the 
producers.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  eat  of  the  fruit  of  one's  toil,  if  it 
be  nothing  more  than  a  head  of  lettuce  or  an  ear  of  corn.  One 
cultivates  a  lawn  even  with  great  satisfaction ;  for  there  is  nothing 
more  beautiful  than  grass  or  turf  in  our  latitude,  The  tropics 
may  have  their  delight,  but  they  have  not  turf:  and  the  world 
without  turf  is  a  dreary  desert.  The  original  Garden  of  Eden 
could  not  have  had  such  turf  as  one  sees  in  England.  The 
Teutonic  races  all  love  turf;  they  emigrate  in  the  line  of  its 
growth.  .  .  . 


The  principal  value  of  a  private  garden  is  not  understood.  It 
is  not  to  give  the  possessor  vegetables  and  fruit  (that  can  be 
better  and  cheaper  done  by  the  market-gardeners),  but  to  teach 
him  patience  and  philosophy,  and  the  higher  virtues, — hope 
deferred,  and  expectations  blighted,  leading  directly  to  resigna- 


D'ANNUNZIO  309 

tion,  and  sometimes  to  alienation.     The  garden  thus  becomes  a 

moral  agent,  a  test  of  character,  as  it  was  in  the  beginning.     I 

shall  keep  this  central  truth  in  mind  in  these  articles.     I  mean  to 

have  a  moral  garden,  if  it  is  not  a  productive  one, — one  that  shall  '; 

teach,  O  my  brothers  !  O  my  sisters  !  the  great  lessons  of  life.  .  .  i 

This  sitting  in  the  sun  amid  evidences  of  a  ripe  year  is  the  ( 

easiest  part  of  gardening  I  have  experienced.    But  what  a  combat 

has  gone  on  here  !     What  vegetable  passions  have  run  the  whole  \ 

gamut  of  ambition,  selfishness,  greed  of  place,  fruition,  satiety,  I 

and  now  rest  here  in  the  truce  of  exhaustion  !    What  a  battle-field,  I 

if  one  may  look  upon  it  so  !     The  corn  has  lost  its  ammunition,  i 

and  stacked  arms  in  a  slovenly,  militia  sort  of  style.    The  ground-  I 

vines    are   torn,    trampled   and    withered ;    and   the   ungathered  | 

cucumbers,  worthless  melons,  and  golden  squashes,  lie  about 
like  the  spent  bombs  and  exploded  shells  of  a  battle-field.  So 
the  cannon-balls  lay  on  the  sandy  plain  before  Fort  Fisher,  after 
the  capture.  So  the  great,  grassy  meadow  at  Munich,  any 
morning  during  the  October  Fest,  is  strewn  with  empty  beer- 
mugs.  History  constantly  repeats  itself.  There  is  a  large  crop 
of  moral  reflections  in  ray  garden,  which  anybody  is  at  liberty  to 
gather  who  passes  this  way. — 3f}'  Summer  in  a  Garden. 

—'Af\f\f/— 

A  A  7E  walked  among  evergreens,  among  ancient  box-trees,  GABRIELE 
"  ^  laurels,  myrtles,  whose  wild  old  age  had  forgotten  its  D'ANNUNZIO. 
early  discipline.  In  a  few  places  here  and  there  was  some  trace 
of  the  symmetrical  shapes  carved  once  upon  a  time  by  the 
gardener's  shears ;  and  with  a  melancholy,  not  unlike  his  who 
searches  on  marble  tombstones  for  the  effigies  of  the  forgotten 
dead,  I  noted  carefully  among  the  silent  plants  those  traces  of 
humanity  not  altogether  obliterated.  A  bitter-sweet  odour  hung 
round  our  path,  and  from  time  to  time  one  of  us,  as  if  wishing  to 
weave  afresh  an  unravelled  web,  would  reconstruct  some  memory 
of  our  far-off  childhood. 


3IO  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

The  hoarse  song  of  the  water  came  to  us  through  a  high  myrtle 
hedge  as  we  stood  in  a  little  meadow  strewn  with  daffodils,  and 
guarded  by  a  statue  of  Pan  green  with  moss.  A  delicious  softness 
seemed  to  spring  in  my  veins  from  the  soft  turf  my  feet  pressed, 
and  once  again  the  sudden  joy  of  living  took  away  my  breath. — 
'  The  Virgins  of  the  Rocks,''  translated  by  Agatha  Hughes. 

— 'AAA'^- 
'E.  V.  B.'       A    GARDEN! — The  word   is    in   itself  a   picture,   and  what 
(Hon.  Mrs       i\     pictures  it  reveals  !     All  through  the  days  of  childhood  the 
^°y  ^)-  garden  is  our  fairy -ground  of  sweet  enchantment  and  innocent 

wonder.  From  the  first  dawn  of  thought,  when  we  learned  our 
simple  lessons  of  Eden  and  its  loss,  and  seemed  to  see  the  thorn- 
less  garden,  watered  with  clear  streams,  beautiful  with  spreading 
trees,  and  the  train  of  un-named  beasts  and  birds  meekly  passing 
before  their  spotless  lord ;  and  then  beyond,  far  onward  to  that 
other  garden  beloved  by  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  Gethsemane,  where 
we  could  never  picture  the  blossoming  of  roses  or  murmurous 
hum  of  summer  bees,  but  only  the  sombre  garden  walks,  and  One 
kneeling  among  the  olives,  and  dark,  heavy  drops  upon  the  grass. 
And  near  to  this,  the  Garden  of  the  Sepulchre — in  a  dewy  dawn- 
light,  angel-haunted.  These  were  our  Gardens  of  the  Soul.  In 
later  years  the  mists  of  those  older,  holier  spots  wear  away  as 
snow-wreaths  in  the  vivid  brilliance  of  the  Gardens  of  Poetry. 
Then,  dreamlike  from  sapphire  seas  arose  the  Gardens  of  the 
Hesperides,  and  we  beheld  the  white-vestured  maidens  as  they 
danced  around  the  golden-fruited  dragon-guarded  tree.  Then 
bloomed  for  us  the  gardens  of  Mediaeval  Italy.  The  Poets' 
gardens  of  cypress  and  lemon,  of  marble  stairs  and  sparkling 
fountains,  with  all  their  moonlight  mirth  and  sorrow ;  ilex-groves 
of  song  and  silver-threaded  laughter;  visions  of  Rimini  or  gay 
Boccaccio's  tales.  Then  did  we  linger  where  high-piping  night- 
ingales sang  to  the  Persian  Rose  in  the  Giilistan  of  Saadi : — felt 
the  pure  sunlight  shine  in  a  little  wilderness  of  roses,  or  the  green 
shade  that  lay  round  the  apple-trees  of  Andrew  Marvell ;  or  in  the 


'E.  V.  B.'  311 

garden  of  the  Sensitive  Plant,  we  followed  the  shadowy  steps  of  the 
Lady,  our  souls  entranced  with  the  love  of  every  flower  she  loved. 
They  are  all  beautiful,  these  Gardens  of  Poetry  !  and  through  the 
midst  of  them  flows  the  broad  stream  of  Memory,  isled  with  fair  lilied 
lawns,  fringed  with  willowy  forests  and  whispering  reeds.  And  not 
less  beautiful  than  these  ideal  shades,  are  the  gardens  which  live  un- 
changed and  unchanging  in  many  a  painted  picture  within  the  heart. 
Real,  and  not  less  ideal,  is  the  remembrance  of  the  gardens  we  have 
seen :  seen  once,  it  may  be,  and  never  since  forgotten. 

'  Un  souvenir  heureux  est  peut-etre  sur  terra 
Plus  vrai  que  le  bonheur.' 

So,  lovely  as  truth,  crystal-clear  as  a  poet's  thought,  are  the 
earthly  Edens  our  eyes  beheld,  in  the  years  that  are  past.  How 
can  we  forget  the  gardens  of  queenly  Genoa,  in  the  days  ere  yet 
she  was  discrowned?  of  Florence,  of  Rome  and  Albano  and 
Tivoli?  The  palm-gardens  of  Bordighiera,  where  periwinkles — 
fiori  del  morte — rain  down  their  blue  from  the  overflowing  laps  of 
ancient  palms,  or  wander  in  smiles  about  their  rugged  roots  ;  the 
trellised  pergolas  and  anemonied  lawns  of  Mortola ;  or  those 
strange  island-gardens,  Isola  Madre  of  Maggiore,  and  terraced 
Isola  Bella?  Long  indeed  is  the  lovely  list.  Think  back  into 
the  days  that  were,  and  remember  them.  .  .  .  How  they  live  green 
and  fresh  and  sweet,  in  the  bloom  and  the  glow  of  their  eternal 
summer !  For  you,  their  skies  are  ever  blue,  their  roses  never 
fade.  Winter  has  never  silenced  the  plash  and  flow  of  their 
fountains,  nor  chilled  the  green  from  one  leaf  in  their  deep  groves. 
The  lemon,  ripening  in  pale  gold,  still  hangs  ungathered  against 
the  southern  terrace,  where  scarlet  passion-flowers  burn  in  drifted 
fire-spots.  The  peacock,  sunning  himself  upon  the  stone  balus- 
trade, shakes  out  his  emerald  glories,  while  you  loiter  along  the 
flowery  borders  of  his  kingdom  ;  and  you  know  that  violets  hide 
somewhere  in  the  grass,  for  the  very  sunshine  is  impregnated  with 
their  perfume.  Or  perchance  in  fancy,  you  may  tread  again  the 
narrow  pathway  that  winds  around  the  rocky  sea-wall  at  Old 
Monaco.     There,  for  you,  the  globes  of  red  geranium  reflect  still, 


312  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

warm  shadows  about  the  names  of  lovers  long  since  lorgot  or 
dead,  wrought  upon  the  tablet  leaves  of  aloes  or  of  cactus. 
There  mesembrianthemums  shine  still,  sunned  over  as  of  old 
with  rayed  discs  of  red  and  yellow,  while  basking  lizards  at  your 
approach  rustle  away  under  the  leaves.  Lean  over  the  low 
parapet  wall  and  watch  the  waves  dash  in  white  foam  against  the 
jagged  rocks  below.  The  old  cliff  blooms  out  into  cistus  and 
spikes  of  purple  stocks ;  midway  the  sea-birds  scream  and  play 
above  the  little  fishing-boats,  tossing  like  fairy  nut-shells  on  the 
crisp  blue  summer  sea.  From  the  sunny  Mediterranean  and  that 
narrow  strip  of  hanging  garden,  dream  on  into  the  black  cypress 
shades  of  Tuscany. 

In  all  Italy — the  land  of  flowers,  the  garden  of  the  world — 
there  are  no  gardens  more  stately,  nor  any  nobler  cypress-trees, 
than  at  Villa  d'Este  of  Tivoli.^  In  the  spring,  by  the  straight 
smooth  ways  under  the  ilexes  and  cypresses,  all  day  the  golden 
gloom  is  made  rosy  where  ever  and  anon  red  Judas-trees 
shower  down  their  bloorn.  Marble  stairs  lead  up  through  terraced 
heights  to  paved  walks  under  the  Palazzo  walls.  There  the  air 
is  faint  with  rich  fragrance  of  the  orange-trees.  The  lofty  spires 
of  ancient  cypresses  reach  up  above  the  topmost  terrace;  far 
below  in  the  garden,  between  their  dark  ranks  sparkle  the  up- 
springing  fountains.  Beyond,  above  the  tallest  cypresses,  rise 
brown  crumbling  walls  of  the  old  town,  piled  up  with  open  loggie 
and  arched  gates  and  overshadowing  roofs  :  and  high  over  these, 
great  barren  hills  crowned  with  ruined  fortresses  and  shattered 
keeps.  To  the  west  rolls  out  the  ocean  of  the  wide  Campagna, 
undulating  far  away  where  Rome  is  lost  in  the  sunset.  Dream 
on,  until  you  sigh  with  the  wondrous  sweetness  of  Rome  herself 
in  the  wild  wood-garden  of  the  Vatican,  where  in  April  days  ten 
thousand  odorous  cyclamen  flowers,  flush  with  crimson  all  the 
moss  beneath  the  trees.  Dream  on,  till  you  see  once  more  the 
swaying  of  the  tall  pines  and  bathe  your  steps  in  tracts  of  flowery 
grass  in  the  green  Pamphili  Doria,  and  watch  the  mystic  fountain, 
most  like  the  form  of  an  inconstant  spirit,  like  a  pale  blue-robed 
^  See  Illustration  in  Appendix. 


E.  V.  B.' 


313 


Undine  uncertain  if  to  leave  her  source,  trembling  betwixt  desire 
and  fear. 

Fain  would  we  linger  in  the  gardens  of  Portugal,  under  the 
sweet-scented  camellias  of  Cintra — lost  in  golden  reveries  amid 
her  rose-wreathed  thickets.  Strange  is  the  remembrance  of  the 
beautiful  Montserrat  cathedral  water-aisles,  whose  torrents  foam 
down  in  long  cascades  beneath  the  high-arched  Tree-ferns !  And 
in  Spain,  like  a  scene  in  the  Arabian  Nights,  comes  back  to  us 
the  old  Moorish  garden  of  Granada,  with  marble-lined  canal  and 
lofty  arcades  of  trimmed  yew,  topped  with  crescents,  pyramids, 
and  crowns.  1 

^  This  beautiful  rhapsody,  addressed  'to  the  Garden-loving  Reader,'  formed 
the -Prelude  to  the  first  edition  of  this  book. 


U  2 


1 


i 


HISTORICAL    EPILOGUE 

'"PHE   foregoing   collection   of    extracts   contains,    perhaps,    in 

*  essence  a  sufficient  History  of  Gardens ;  but  there  may 
be  readers  who  prefer  a  less  broken  thread  of  narrative,  and 
to  them  is  offered  the  following  clue  to  the  labyrinth  of  garden 
literature. 

Ever  since  the  gardening  art  has  been  anything  more  conscious 
and  definite  than  the  haphazard  planting  of  fruit-trees,  herbs  and 
vegetables  in  orchards  and  kitchen-gardens  for  practical  use, 
garden  design  may  be  said  broadly  to  have  adopted  one  of  two 
forms  or  styles,  each  capable  of  infinite  variation  and  modification 
in  treatment,  and  each  liable  at  times  to  trespass  upon  the  territory 
and  overlap  the  limits,  of  the  other. 

One  of  these  styles  has  been  distinguished  by  such  various 
names  as  Architectural,  Classical,  Formal,  Regular,  Rectangular, 
Symmetrical  and  Geometrical ;  or  has  been  called  Italian,  French, 
or  Dutch,  according  to  the  country  of  its  origin.  As  the  terms 
denote,  the  exponents  of  this  style  chose  for  model  and  in- 
spiration the  art  of  the  architect,  who  designed,  or  '  built '  the 
garden  in  harmony  with  the  plan  of  the  house,  of  which  it  was  a 
sort  of  open-air  extension ;  for  detail  and  decoration  it  laid  under 
contribution  the  art  of  sculpture,  in  the  form  of  clipped  hedges  and 
trees  (known  as  'topiarian  work'),  statuary,  vases  and  fountains. 

The  second  school  endeavoured  to  follow  Nature  more  closely, 
believing  that,  with  this  aim  in  view,  the  sister  art  of  painting  was 
a  surer  guide,  and  has  been  variously  called  the  Natural,  Irregular, 
Landscape,  Romantic,  English  or  Chinese  School;  these  two  nations 
having  had  most  influence  in  its  creation  or  development. 

This  later  school  in  its  designs  '  lays  out '  or  '  composes '  its 
gardens  as  a  painter  his  landscapes,  and  employs  so  far  as  possible 


3i6  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

the  irregular  curves  of  Nature  and  her  dispositions  of  rock,  wood 
and  water,  rather  than  straight  Hnes  and  geometrical  curves ;  but 
in  the  hands  of  mannerists  these  irregular  windings  and  serpentis- 
ings  often  become  as  arbitrary,  unnatural  and  monotonous  as  the 
more  intentional  regularity  of  the  architect.^ 

Broadly  it  may  be  said  that  the  '  landscape-garden '  in  its  purity 
resembled  a  park,  and  that  the  landscape-gardener  was  a  creator  of 
park  scenery ;  but  it  is  clear  that  the  division  into  two  styles  is  only 
for  the  purposes  of  rough  classification,  and  that  between  the  two 
are  innumerable  gradations  and  shades.  Gardens  may  be  and  have 
been  made  of  the  greatest  beauty,  which  would  resist  all  attempts 
to  force  them  into  any  jesthetic  categories ;  while  no  more 
definite  plan  of  design,  '  laying  out '  or  '  composition '  may  have 
been  followed  than  dictated  by  the  instinct  of  beauty,  taste  and 
the  love  of  Nature  and  Art. 

In  an  historical  account  of  gardens  the  precedents  are  in  favour 
of  beginning  with  the  Garden  of  Eden,  which  undoubtedly  claims 
priority  in  time ;  but  until  we  know  whether  Major  Seton  Karr, 

^  It  may  be  interesting  to  note  a  few  of  the  many  names  that  have  from  time 
to  time  been  put  forward  as  claimants  to  the  honour  of  initiating,  prophecying 
or  suggesting  the  principle  of  the  Modern,  Natural  or  Landscape  Garden  : — 

1.  Homer's  Grotto  of  Calypso  ;  CElian's  Vale  of  Tempe  (Boltiger). 

2.  Nero  in  Tacitus  (Loudon). 

3.  Petrarch's  '  Vaucluse.' 

4.  Tasso's  Garden  of  Armida  (Eustace). 

5.  Christopher  Wren  (father  of  the  Architect),  inventor  of  the  serpentine 

river. 

6.  '  Bacon  the  prophet,  Milton  the  Herald '  (W.  Mason). 

7.  Milton's  Paradise  (Dr  J.  Warton  and  Horace  Walpole). 

8.  Sir  Henry  Wotton  (G.  W.  Johnson). 

9.  Huet,  Bishop  of  Avranches. 

10.  Dufresny  (Gabriel  Thouin). 

1 1.  Hogarth's  '  Line  of  Beauty.' 

12.  William  Kent. 

13.  Pope  in  the  Guardian^  and  at  Twickenham. 

14.  Addison  in  the  Spectator. 

15.  The  English  (Gray). 

16.  The  Chinese  (Geo.  Mason  and  W.  Chambers). 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  317 

dissatisfied  with  the  opinions  of  Bishop  Huet  and  others  on  the 
'  Situation  of  Paradise,'  has  succeeded  in  his  attempt  to  identify 
its  precise  position  at  the  heads  of  the  four  great  rivers  of  Africa/ 
we  must  be  satisfied  with  Milton's  imaginative  description  in 
'  Paradise  Lost.' 

Possibly  it  may  eventually  be  proved  that  Eden  is  identical  with 
the  '  Gardens  of  the  Hesperides '  near  Mount  Atlas ;  although 
these  gardens,  again,  stripped  of  poetic  fruit  and  foliage,  have 
been  declared  to  be  only  disused  stone  quarries  at  Berenice 
(Bengaze)  affording  fine  soil  and  shelter  for  luxuriant  fruit-trees.- 

Milton,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  has  so  carefully  '  trimmed '  and 
'  hedged '  his  garden,  as  to  have  been  claimed  in  turns  by  the 
partisans  of  either  school  as  representing  its  views. 

A  set  of  quotations  is  necessary  to  enable  the  reader  to  judge 
whether  Horace  Walpole  is  right  in  seeing  only  Nature  therein, 
or  Walter  Bagehot  in  asserting  you  could  draw  a  map  of  it. 

Of  Eden,  where  delicious  Paradise, 
Now  nearer,  crowns  with  her  enclosure  green 
As  with  a  rural  mound,  the  champain  head 
Of  a  steep  wilderness  ;  whose  hairy  sides 
With  thicket  overgrown,  grotesque  and  wild, 
Access  denied  ;  and  overhead  up-grew 
Insuperable  height  of  loftiest  shade, 
Cedar  and  pine  and  fir,  and  branching  palm, 
A  sylvan  scene  !  and,  as  the  ranks  ascend 
Shade  above  shade,  a  woody  theatre 
Of  stateliest  vieiv.     Vet  higher  than  their  tops 
The  verdurous  wall  of  Paradise  up-sprung  : 
...   In  this  pleasant  soil 
His  far  more  pleasant  garden  God  ordained. 

Flowers  worthy  of  Paradise,  which  riot  nice  art 
In  beds  and  curious  knots,  but  Nature  boon 
Pour'd  forth  profuse  on  hill  and  dale  and  plain. 

^  See  Mr  W.  Marshall  Adams's  letter  to  The  Times  on  *  The  New  Search 
for  Eden.'     November  23,  1898. 

2  Lieut.  Beechey's  Travels  in  Cyrene,  1828,  and  Gardener's  Magazine,  vol. 
iv.  p.  398  (Loudon), 


3i8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

A  happy  rural  seat  of  various  view  : 

Groves,  whose  rich  trees  wept  odorous  gums  and  balm  ; 

Betwixt  them  lawns  or  level  downs,  and  flocks 
Grazing  the  tender  herb.   .  .  . 
Another  side,  umbrageous  grots  and  caves 
Of  cool  recess,  o'er  which  the  mantling  vine 
Lays  forth  her  purple  grape,  and  gently  creeps 
Luxuriant :  meanwhile  murm'ring  waters  fall 
Down  the  slope  hills,  dispers'd  or  in  a  lake; 
That  to  the  fringed  bank  with  myrtle  crown'd 
Her  crystal  mirror  holds,  unite  their  streams. 

— Paradise  Lost,  Book  IV. 

The  earliest  historical  gardens  are  those  of  ancient  Egypt,  of 
which  a  description  from  the  pen  of  Sir  J.  Gardner  Wilkinson  has 
been  quoted  in  the  text,  and  Mr  Percy  Newberry  now  seems  to 
be  convinced  that  the  illustration  reproduced  from  Rosellini  is  the 
design  of  the  gardener  Nekht  for  the  Great  Temple  at  Karnak.^ 

Besides  the  Monuments  and  Herodotus's  mention  of  the  sacred 
groves  and  gardens  of  Ammon  and  Osiris  in  Egypt  as  of  extra- 
ordinary beauty,  we  have  little  authentic  record. 

Those  who  will  penetrate  into  the  mystery  of  the  Hanging 
Gardens  of  Babylon  further  than  is  disclosed  by  Diodorus  Siculus,^ 
may  dip  into  the  learned  Dr  Falconer's  '  Historical  View  of  the 
Gardens  of  Antiquity.'^  The  Hill  Amron-Ibn-Ali  is  the  supposed 
site  of  the  '  Horti  Pensiles.'  Some  may  have  their  imagination 
of  the  subject  quickened  by  the  sight  of  the  stupendous  columns 
and  cypresses  in  Martin's  pictures  of  the '  Destruction  of  Babylon ' 
and  the  '  Fall  of  Nineveh,'^  or  by  De  Brosse's  description  of  the 
terraced  gardens  of  Isola  Bella — perhaps  the  nearest  comparison 
to  be  found  in  Europe  : — 

"  Imagine  a  quantity  of  arcades  formed  in  the  centre  of  a  lake, 
supporting  a  conical-shaped  hill,  cut  on  four  sides,  covered  with 

1  See  ante  pages  1-3.  -  See  ante  page  12. 

'See  also  Dr  Sickler's  Introduction  to  his  'Geschichte  der  Obst  Cultur,' 
1802. 

*  See,  too,  a  fine  fanciful  sketch  by  A.  Castaigne  in  Century  Magaziit^  for 
June  1898. 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  3 1 9 

thirty-six  terraces,  one  above  the  other,  nine  on  each  side,  and 
one  of  the  sides  covered  with  buildings.  Each  of  these  terraces 
is  hung  with  pallissades  of  jasmine,  orange-trees  or  pomegranates." 

Besides  being  a  mystical  poet,  King  Solomon  was  a  very 
practical  gardener  and  botanist,  and  as  we  know  that  his  garden 
was  quadrangular  and  surrounded  by  a  high  wall,  it  may  be 
surmised  that  he  favoured  the  formal  style.  Josephus  gives  him 
credit  for  being  the  first  to  plant  the  cedar  in  Judaea,  and  '  the 
humble  hyssop  in  the  wall '  did  not  escape  his  notice  any  more 
than  the  more  heavily  scented  rose,  lily,  camphire,  spikenard, 
saffron  and  cinnamon  ;  it  is  rumoured  Solomon's  pools  still  exist,^ 
but  had  they  been  in  Europe,  instead  of  the  unchanging  East, 
there  is  little  doubt  they  would  long  ago  have  been  thrown  into 
a  lake. 

The  ancient  Persian  garden  or  park  (Paradise)  seems  to  have 
undergone  little  change  in  form  from  the  days  of  Xenophon, 
through  those  of  the  later  travellers  Chardin  and  Tavernier  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  down  to  our  own  time ;  -  and  for  the 
'  roses  and  raptures '  which  you  may  find  missing  in  their  actual 
gardens,  you  must  appeal  to  the  imaginative  ones  of  Hafiz,  Saadi 
and  Omar  Khayyam.^  Compare,  for  instance.  Lord  Curzon's 
description  of  the  gardens  of  Shiraz  with  the  utterances  of  the 
poets  : — 

'  From  the  outside,  a  square  or  oblong  enclosure  is  visible, 
enclosed  by  a  high  mud  wall,  over  the  top  of  which  appears 
a  dense  bouquet  of  trees.  The  interior  is  thickly  planted  with 
these,  or  as  Herbert  phrased  it,  with  lofty  pyramidal  cypresses, 
broad  spreading  chenaivrs,  tough  elm,  straight  ash,  knotty  pines, 
fragrant  masticks,  kingly  oaks,  sweet  myrtles,  useful  maples. 
They  are  planted  down  the  sides  of  long  alleys,  admitting  of 
no  view  but  a  vista,  the   surrounding  plots   being  a  jungle  of 

1  'Maundrell's  Travels.'  -  See  ante  pp.  4  and  126. 

^  One  wonders  if  '  Come  into  the  Garden,  Maud '  with  all  its  flower 
personification  was  inspired  by  Jami's  '  Come  into  the  Garden,  for  without 
thy  care  or  mine,  all  is  ready  for  pleasure.  Since  the  rose  has  removed  the 
veil  from  before  her  cheek,  the  narcissus  has  become  all  eyes  to  gaze  upon 
her.' 


320  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

bushes  and  shrubs.  Water  courses  along  in  channels  or  is 
conducted  into  tanks.  Sometimes  these  gardens  rise  in  terraces 
to  a  pavilion  at  the  summit,  whose  reflection  in  the  pool  below 
is  regarded  as  a  triumph  of  landscape  gardening.  There  are 
no  neat  walks,  or  shaped  flower-beds,  or  stretches  of  sward. 
All  is  tangled  and  untrimmed.  Such  beauty  as  arises  from  shade 
and  the  purling  of  water  is  all  that  the  Persian  requires.'  ^ 

Of  the  ancient  Greek  gardens  the  sum  of  opinion  from  the 
scant  authority  at  hand  is  that  they  were  little  more  than  olive 
groves  or  orchards.  Pliny  ascribes  to  Epicurus,  the  '  Philosopher 
of  the  Garden,'  the  introduction  of  the  Pleasure  Garden  within 
the  walls  of  Athens,  between  the  Cephissus  and  the  Ilissus ;  and 
if  it  was  not  Formal,  it  was  certainly  Classic  and  Academic.  It  is 
a  little  difficult  to  reconcile  this  account  with  Plutarch's  statement 
that  a  century  earlier  the  General  Cimon  first  reformed  the 
Academy  from  savagery  by  conveying  streams  of  water  to  it,  and 
planting  it  with  groves  of  the  olive  plane  and  elm  trees;  unless  we 
suppose  Epicurus  to  have  possessed  the  first  private  garden  in 
Athens. 

These  trees  were  cut  down  in  the  siege  of  Athens  by  Sulla,  as 
the  trees  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  were  sacrificed  at  the  siege  of 
the  modern  Athens.  From  Aristophanes  we  have  this  picture  of 
an  Athenian  bourgeois's  ideal  of  '  cabbage  planting ' : — 

'  If  my  lot  be  join'd  with  thine — 
To  plant  in  lengthen'd  ranks  the  vine, 
To  graft  the  fig  tree's  tender  shoots, 
To  pluck  the  vineyard's  purpling  fruits  ; 
And  olive-trees  in  many  a  row 
Around  our  farm  shall  circling  grow.'  ^ 

Passing  to  Roman  gardens,  Livy  (as  early  as  B.C.  534)  mentions 
the  garden  of  Tarquinius  Superbus.  Forgetful  of  the  stern 
simplicity  of  old  Cato  the  Censor  and  his  injunction  to  each 
Roman  citizen  to  cultivate  flowers  in  his  enclosure  as  a  source 
of  elegance  and  moral  culture,   we  find  in   Imperial  days  that 

1  '  Persia,'  by  Hon.  G.  N.  Curzon. 

'-' '  The  Acharnians  '  (Mitchell's  Translation). 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  321 

even  the  stoic  Seneca  indulged  in  garden  magnificence  strangely 
out  of  keeping  with  the  ascetic  philosophy  he  professed. 

Other  famous  Roman  gardens  were  those  of  Scipio  ;  Lucullus's, 
on  the  promontory  of  Misenum  (perhaps  on  the  site  of  his  so- 
called  existing  villa  near  Baiae,  in  the  Bay  of  Naples),  where 
Martial  declares  his  preference  for  the  wild  country  over  the  pre- 
vailing fashion  of  roses  and  clipped  box-trees  amongst  myrtles 
and  planes : — 

Baiana  nostri  villa,  Basse,  Faustini 
Non  otiosis  ordinata  myrtetis 
Viduaque  platano,  tonsilique  buxeto, 
Ingrata  lati  spatia  detinet  campi 
Sed  rure  vero,  barbaroque  l^tatur. 

On  the  Quirinal  Hill  lay  the  gardens  of  Sallust,  afterwards 
merged  into  the  Negroni,  Ludovisi  and  Barberini  gardens ;  ^ 
Cicero's  villa  at  Arpinum  is  constantly  referred  to :  but  best 
known  of  all,  from  the  owner's  descriptions,  are  the  villas  of 
Varro  and  of  Pliny  the  Consul.  The  latter's  Laurentine  villa 
on  the  Tiber,  near  Paterno,  now  called  '  San  Lorenzo '  and  his 
Tusculan  villa,  now  Frascati,  situate  in  the  natural  amphitheatre 
of  the  Apennines,  are  so  fully  detailed  in  his  letters  that  learned 
archeeologists,  Scamozzi,  Felibien  (1699),  Schinkel  and  Castell 
(1728)  have  essayed  to  reconstruct  the  plan  of  them.-  But  even 
more  interesting  than  the  gardens  of  Pliny  are  the  excavations 
at  Pompeii  showing  the  plan  and  design  of  the  inner  city  gardens, 
and  the  wall  paintings  at  Herculaneum.  In  one  of  the  latter  the 
trellises,  pergolas,  statuary  and  fountains  might  have  emanated 
from  Mollet  or  Boyceau  in  the  sixteenth  or  seventeenth  century ; 
and  so  striking  is  the  likeness,  that  Horace  Walpole  expressed 
his  opinion  that  '  nothing  is  wanting  but  a  parterre  to  make  a 
garden  in  the  reign  of  Trajan  serve  for  the  description  of  one 
in  the  reign  of  King  William  HL';   and  in  the  Inner  Garden 

^  See  De  Brosse's  '  Life  of  Sallust '  ;  also  ante  p.  l6o. 

-  In  Loudon's  '  History  of  Gardening '  may  be  seen  reproductions  on  a 
small  scale  of  the  plans  of  Pliny's  two  villas  from  R.  Castell's  '  Villas  of  the 
Ancients.'     See  also  ante  p.  15  ^/  seq. 


322  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

to  the  house  of  Aulus  Vettius,  even  the  parterre  (on  a  domestic 
scale)  is  not  wanting.  'Pompeii,'  writes  Taine,  'is  an  ancient 
Saint-Germain  or  Fontainebleau  ;  one  sees  the  abyss  separating  the 
two  worlds.'  ^ 

In  the  Garden  of  Vettius  the  marble  basins,  statues,  etc.,  are 
all  set  up  in  their  original  places,  from  which  some  have  never 
moved,  and  the  beds  are  laid  out  on  the  old  lines,  following  the 
indications  in  the  wall  paintings  :  for  instance,  the  cones  of  basket 
work  overgrown  with  creepers  and  ivy  to  be  seen  at  various  points 
in  the  garden  are  copied  from  one  of  the  frescoes.  Charles 
Estienne's  '  De  re  Hortensi  Libellus '  throws  no  Hght  upon  these 
dome-shaped  cages.  The  marble  heads  in  the  centre  of  the 
picture  on  ivy-carved  stelse  are  those  of  Dionysius  with  Ariadne, 
and  Silenus  with  a  Bacchante,  back  to  back.  The  fountains  on 
either  side  of  the  foreground  are  bronze  boys  holding  geese,  with 
water  flowing  from  the  beaks,  and  the  fresco  behind  the  columns 
represents  makers  of  the  garlands,  the  art  to  which  Athenseus 
devotes  so  many  pages. 

Another  feature  of  Roman  gardens  copied  in  medieval  days 
was  the  mount,  called  Xopo^  by  Plutarch,  no  doubt  raised  to 
command  a  view  of  the  surrounding  country.- 

During   the   dark   ages   the   early   Christian    fathers   and    the 

'  'Voyage  en  Italie.' 

-  A  few  authorities  and  references  (other  than  these  in  the  text)  to  ancient 
Greek  and  Roman  gardens  : — 

Dr  Falconer's  'Historical  View  of  the  Gardens  of  Antiquity,'  1785. 

C.  A,  Bottiger's  '  Racemazionen  zur  Garten  Kunst  der  Alten.' 

Felibien,  Plans  et  Descriptions  des  maisons  de  Campagne  de  Pline  le  Consul, 

1699. 

Trinkhusii  Dissertatio  de  Hortis  et  Villis  Ciceronis. 

C.  Stephanus,  '  De  re  Hortensi  Libellus,'  1536. 

Daines  Harrington,  '  Archreologia,'  1782. 

yElian's  'Various  History.' 

R,  Rapinus,  Hortorum  Lib.  IV.,  with  Appendix, — 'De  Universa  Culture 
Hortensis  Disciplina,  '  Utrecht,  1672,  a  most  valuable  dissertation  :  also  the 
Paris  Edition  of  1780,'  with  a  History  of  Gardens  by  Gabriel  Brotier. 

Scamozzi,  '  Discorsi  sopra  I'Antichita  di  Roma,'  1582. 

Stengel's  Hortorum,  Florum  et  Arborum  Historia,  1650. 


K 


O 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  327 

monks  alone  preserved  the  arts  of  culture  as  of  horticulture ;  in 
the  fourth  century  St  Jerome  describes  St  Anthony's  mountain 
garden ;  and  Castell  points  out  how  several  early  monasteries  and 
abbeys  follow  the  lines  and  distribution  of  Roman  villas — courts 
surrounded  with  porticoes,  and  containing  basins  with  fountains — 
terraces  upon  arcades  and  garden  oratories. 

The  Abbey  of  Icolmhill  was  founded  in  the  Hebrides  between 
500  and  600  A.D.,  and  from  works  like  the  '  Polypticon '  of  the 
Abbot  Irminon,  written  between  800  and  900  a.d.,  we  know  that 
gardens,  orchards  and  arboreta  were  attached  to  the  monasteries 
of  St  Remy,  St  Bertin  and  Corbie,  and  consisted  of  a  plot  of 
ground  enclosed  by  a  wall,  a  hedge  or  trellis,  and  devoted  to  the 
cultivation  of  vegetables,  fruits,  herbs  and  roots. 

Miss  Amherst  also  recites  the  garden  accounts  of  Norwich  Priory 
and  Abingdon  Abbey,  and  gives  a  plan  of  Bicester  Priory.^ 

In  the  '  Ordinatio  Hortorum '  of  the  Abbey  of  Corbie,  the 
garden  is  divided  into  four  parts,  and  directions  are  given  for 
its  weeding,  by  the  Hortulan  friar  sending  in  the  '  Sarculatores ' 
or  hoers,  to  cleanse  the  area  and  plantationes? 

The  plan  of  the  kitchen  and  fruit  garden  of  the  Abbey  of  St 
Gall  (on  the  Lake  of  Constance)  by  a  monk  of  the  ninth 
century,  bald  and  uninteresting  as  it  looks,  contains  much  of  the 
garden  and  other  history  of  its  time,  bringing  us  into  touch  with 
Charlemagne,  who  himself  was  a  constant  and  popular  visitor 
here,  and  known  as  '  Noster  Carolus '  amongst  the  monks. 

The  plan  is  supposed  to  be  by  Abbot  Eginhardus,  Prefect  of 
the  Royal  Buildings  under  Charlemagne,  whose  daughter  Imma 
he  had  married,  and  after  her  death  adopted  a  monastic  life. 

The  kitchen  garden  is  a  parallelogram  of  eighteen  beds,  on 
each  of  which  is  written  in  Latin  the  name  of  the  vegetable  it 
contains,  all  of  which  (with  the  exception  of  carrots)  are  enumer- 

^  '  History  of  English  Gardening.' 

^  The  word  Hortus,  derived  perhaps  from  x°P'^°^>  S-S  it  were  '  Cortis '  or 
'  Curtis,'  means  a  garden  in  the  Middle  Ages  as  well  as  with  the  Latins.  In 
the  grounds  of  the  Abbey  of  Prum,  the  gardens  were  divided  into  Area  and 
Agri,  and  into  Lecti.     (M.  B.  Guerard,  'Commentary  on  the  Polyptikon.') 


32  8  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

ated  in  Charlemagne's  Capitulare  de  Vil/is,  as  ordained  to  be 
cultivated  within  his  dominions. 

The  fruit  trees  in  the  cemetery  are  planted  around  the  graves  of 
the  friars,  and  between  the  monuments.  The  flower,  i.e.  herb  or 
physic  garden,  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  house  (not  shown  in  this 
half  of  the  plan)  appropriately  near  the  doctors'  quarters  in  the  N.E. 
angle  of  the  monastery  :  this  contains  sixteen  beds  of  herbs  and 
flowers  also  identical  with  those  named  in  the  Capitulary.  As  the 
monks  were  bound  by  their  vows  to  live  upon  pulse,  vegetables  and 
fruit  gathered  by  themselves,  the  importance  of  these  gardens 
in  the  monastic  economy  was  considerable.^  A  more  detailed 
account  of  the  contents  of  the  Garden  at  this  date  is  given  in 
the  poem  '  Hortulus '  by  Walafridus  Strabo  (afterwards  abbot  of 
the  monastery)  dedicated  in  a.d.  849  to  the  then  abbot,  Grimald.^ 

'  The  gardens  in  the  early  part  of  the  Norman  Dynasty  were 
certainly  not  different  from  what  we  now  term  orchards.  Com- 
paratively few  fruit  trees  or  esculent  plants  were  known  in 
England  till  even  the  latter  centuries.  But  near  the  castles 
(as  at  Conway)  and  monasteries,  a  small  enclosure  was  reserved 
for  the  ladies  or  for  the  abbot,  which  was  surrounded  by  lofty 
walls,  sometimes  decorated  with  paintings,  and  filled  with  roses 
and  other  fragrant  plants.'^ 

Brithnod,  the  first  Abbot  of  Ely,  a.d.  1107,  was  celebrated  for 
his  skill  in  horticulture,  and  laid  out  very  extensive  gardens 
and  orchards ;  ^  and  Neckam,  in  the  same  century,  rhetorically 
catalogues  the  fruit,  flowers  and  vegetables  which  should  adorn 
'  a  noble  garden.'  ^ 

For  the  best  descriptions  in  English  of  mediaeval  gardens  we 
must  consult  Chaucer  and  Lydgate,  or  the  '  King's  Quhair,'  by 

^  See  the  late  Professor  Willis's  paper  published  in  Archaological Journal 
vol.  v.,  with  the  facsimile  of  the  original  plan  and  a  modernised  and  anglicised 
form. 

^  Strabi  Fuldensis  *  Ilortulus'  per  Venerabilem  Bedam,  Nuremberg,  1512. 

^  Dallaway's  '  Supplementary  Anecdotes  to  Gardening  in  England.' 

*  G.  W.  Johnson,  '  History  of  English  Gardening.' 

^  See  ante  p.  30. 


3JO 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  331 

the  poet-king,  James  I.  of  Scotland,  who  from  his  prison  in 
Windsor  Castle  spies 

'  A  Garden  fair  ;  and  in  the  Corners  set 
An  Herbere  greene,  with  Wandis  long  and  small 
Railit  about.' 

The  '  wands '  or  railings,  as  a  division  of  the  beds  before  the  use 
of  box,  may  also  be  seen,  painted  green  and  white,  the  Tudor 
colours,  in  the  backgrounds  of  Holbein's  pictures  of  Will  Somers 
and  Jane  the  Fool.  Chaucer's  garden  in  'Troilus  and  Cresseide,' 
also  preserves  this  feature  and  the  sanded  alleys  : 

This  Yerde  ^  was  large,  and  railed  al  the  aleyes 
And  shadowed  wel  with  blos'omy  bowis  grene, 
And  benchid  newe,  and  sondid  all  the  weyes. 

The  mediaeval  garden  from  the  illumination  of  the  '  Roman  de 
la  Rose '  is  shown  both  in  Miss  Amherst's  '  History '  and  in  the 
'  Formal  Garden  in  England,'  -  and  valuable  illustrations  are  to  be 
found  in  the  '  Songe  de  Poliphile '  and  the  illuminations  of  a 
French  MS.  of  the  late  fifteenth-century  '  Le  Rustican  des  Profits 
Ruraux'  by  Croissant,  and  in  the  Psalter  of  Edwin  in  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  is  given  the  private  garden  of  one  of  the 
canons.  2 

Less  familiar  is  the  pleasure  garden  here  copied  from  the 
earliest  known  Flemish  engraving  (about  1450)  called  the  '  Garden 
of  Love,'  in  which  the  occupants  of  the  garden  are  depicted  as 
engaged  in  all  sorts  of  diversions,  love-making,  feasting,  playing 
cards  and  music.  The  beasts  of  the  field  and  birds  of  the  air, 
monkeys  and  parrots  even,  are  revelling  amid  perspectiveless 
scenery  of  conventialised  trefoil-trees  and  running  water,  and 
large  detached  flowers  are  strewn   upon  the  grass  in  the  fore- 

^  Yerde  or  Yard  (surviving  in  the  Pond  Yard  at  Hampton  Court)  was  the 
earlier  form  of  the  word  Garden,  both  being  of  the  same  etymology  (the 
Anglo-Saxon  '  geard  ')  and  signifying  an  enclosure — the  Scotch  form  '  Garth  ' 
comes  half-way  between  the  two — and  other  forms  of  the  word  are  innumerable. 
In  Holland's  Pliny  we  find  hort-yard  for  orchard. 

■■^  By  Reginald  Blomfield  and  Inigo  Thomas. 

^  See  Archaological Journal ,  vol.  iv.  p.  i6o. 

V 


332  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

ground,  suggesting  the  art  of  the  goldsmith  father  than  of  the 
gardener.^ 

Dr  Andrew  Boorde  (whom  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography 
no  longer  allows  to  be  the  original  '  Merry  Andrew ')  in  his 
'  Dyetary  of  Health  '  will  have  attached  to  a  mansion  a  '  fayre 
garden,  repleted  wyth  herbes  of  aromatyck  and  redolent  savours, 
with  a  poole  or  two  for  fysche ' ;  and  the  '  Mesnagier  de  Paris ' 
gives  a  long  list  of  all  the  herbs  and  plants  which  ought  to  be 
cultivated  in  the  garden. 

But  the  design  of  the  garden,  rather  than  its  contents,  is  our 
theme,  and  we  must  consult  the  work  of  the  French  architect, 
Androuet  du  Cerceau,  '  Les  plus  Excellents  Bastiments  de  France,' 
for  bird's-eye  views  and  plans  of  the  gardens  of  the  *  Thuileries,' 
Montargis,  the  Chateaux  of  Blois  and  Gaillon,  and  many  others.- 

The  gardens  of  St.  Germain-en-Laye  built  for  Henry  H.,  run- 
ning down  to  the  Seine  in  a  series  of  terraces  under  which  were 
grottoes  in  rock  and  shell-work,  and  figures  disporting  themselves 
in  the  waters,  were  considered  one  of  the  marvels  of  the  age. 

The  grotto  has  always  played  an  important  role  in  the  history 
of  gardens  from  the  mythical  one  of  Calypso  to  those  of  Palissy 
enamelled  over  with  creeping  things  in  pottery,  and  the  be- 
spa'd  and  be-mirrored  creation  of  Pope  at  Twickenham. ^ 

To  come  back  to  England  in  the  days  of  Henry  VHI.  The 
best  known  Tudor  gardens  were  Nonesuch  near  Ewell  in  Surrey 
described  by  Hentzner ;  *  Theobalds,  of  which  we  have  a  picture 
from  the  Parliamentary  Survey  of  1650,  to  which  date  we  may 
assume  it  to  have  been  undisturbed;  ^  and  greatest  of  all,  Hampton 
Court.      They  are  characterised  by  moats  and  walls,  while  the 

^  I  am  indebted  to  Mr  Sidney  Colvin  for  drawing  my  attention  to  Professor 
Max  Lehr's  monograph  on  this  print,  and  to  the  latter  for  permission  to  re- 
produce his  collotype. 

^  See  ante  p.  51.         ^  See  ante  pp.  45-50  and  143.         ''  See  ante  p.  73. 

^  '  In  the  Greate  Garden  are  nine  large  compleate  squares  or  knotts  lyinge 
upon  a  levell  in  y«  middle  of  y''  said  Garden,  whereof  one  is  sett  forth  with 
box  borders  in  y*'  likeness  of  y«=  Kinges  armes,  one  other  plott  is  planted  with 
choice  flowers  ;  the  other  7  knotts  are  all  grass  knotts,  handsomely  turfed  in 
the  intervalls  or  little  walkes.    ...   a  Quicksette  hedge  of  White  Thome 


TO!*«b%?*L%'%*|^J^4L«8L^%.<^^SS^^ 


-Jardin  entre  les 
deux  Bosquets 


^Jardin  en  pente. 


Jardin  des 
Canaulx. 


■ — Seine. 


The  terraced  Gardens  of  Saint-Germain-en-Laye,  1523. 
From  Braun's  '  Civitates  Orbis  Terrarum,'  1572-1618. 


333 


335 


U 


o 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  t,2>7 

*  knotted '  beds  are  railed  with  painted  wands  (the  royal  colours 
being  green  and  white)  or  surrounded  with  low  fences  of  trellis- 
work.     Cavendish  in  his  life  of  Wolsey  sings  : — 

'  My  Garden  sweet,  enclosed  with  walles  strong 
Embanked  with  benches  to  sytt  and  take  my  rest 
The  knots  so  enknotted,  it  cannot  be  exprest. 
With  arbors  and  alyes  so  pleasant  and  so  dulce.' 

Mounts  at  the  corners,  galleries,  dials,  cabinets  of  verdure, 
columns  and  pyramids  of  marble,  topiarian  work  and  fish-ponds 
complete  the  details. 

Skelton,  a  Tudor  poet,  paints  the  following  picture  of  a  garden 
-  of  his  day  : — 

'  With  alys  ensanded  about  in  compas 
The  bankis  enturfid  with  singular  solas, 
Enrailed  with  rosers,  and  vinis  engrapi'd.' ' 

The  gardens  of  Hampton  Court  covered  altogether  2000  acres 
and  consisted  of  the  Mount  Garden,  the  King's  Newe  Garden 
(now  called  the  Privy  Garden)  with  gravel  paths,  raised  mounds, 
sun-dials,  and  railed  beds— and  the  Pond  yard  or  Garden  (now 
alone  remaining,  and  the  subject  of  our  illustration)  which  retains 
something  of  its  ancient  Tudor  aspect,  being  still  divided  into 
its  original  rectangular  enclosures  by  low  brick  walls  overgrown 
with  creepers,  in  the  corners  of  which  may  be  detected  the  bases 
of  the  stone  piers  that  supported  the  heraldic  beasts  '  bearing 
vanes  and  shields  with  the  King's  arms  and  badges.' ^ 

In  a  drawing  by  Antonius  Wynngarde  in  the  Bodleian  Library 

and  privett  cutt  into  a  handsome  fashion — at  every  angle  a  faire  cherrie  tree, 
and  a  '  Ciprus '  in  the  middle  of  the  knotts — also  a  Marble  fountaine. 

'  The  Privie  Garden  has  a  Quadrangle  or  square  squadron  Quicksett  hedge 
9  feet  high,  with  four  round  Arbours  and  seats  at  each  corner  and  two  Door- 
ways to  each  Arbour,  between  which  a  Roman  T  pointing  to  3  paire  of 
Staires  and  a  Mulberry  walk.'  (Shortened  from  the  original  MS.  in  Record 
Office,  transcribed  by  Miss  Amherst.) 

^  Skel ton's  '  Garlande  of  Laurell.' 

'^  Ernest  Law,  '  History  of  Hampton  Court.' 


338  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

these  heraldic  beasts  are  the  most  conspicuous  feature,  bristling 
over  the  whole  garden.^ 

As  an  introduction  to  the  Elizabethan  garden  we  must  return 
to  Italy,  which,  in  gardening  as  in  literature,  at  this  time  exercised 
so  potent  an  influence  over  our  ancestors. 

The  mediaeval  Italian  gardens  are  founded  upon  the  Roman 
villas  evolving  into  fortified  castles  or  monasteries,  of  which  many 
of  them  occupy  the  sites.  Meason  traces  the  relationship  in  the 
later  use  of  one  of  Lucullus's  villas. 

One  of  the  oldest  is  Bramante's  Vatican  garden,  on  the  site 
of  the  present  Library  of  the  Vatican.  In  1549  the  same  architect 
laid  out  the  Villa  d'Este  at  Tivoli  for  the  Cardinal  Hippolito 
d'Este,  the  friend  of  Ariosto,  upon  the  site  of  the  Emperor 
Hadrian's  villa.  A  view  is  here  given  of  the  Villa  d'Este  as  it 
appeared  about  1765,  'darkly  grav'd  by  Piranesi's  hand,'  in  which 
some  of  the  many  cypresses  said  to  have  been  planted  by  Michael 
Angelo  are  conspicuous.  '  Terrace  rises  upon  terrace  and  water 
rushes  down  an  artificial  rock,  spreading  in  a  beautiful  manner  as 
it  descends.'  ^ 

The  terraces  rendered  necessary  by  the  hilliness  of  the  ground, 
with  flights  of  steps  leading  to  the  different  levels ;  the  piazzas  for 
shade  and  air;  avenues  and  plantations  of  olive,  vine,  and  myrtle; 
fountains,  statuary,  urns,  and  vases  ;  these  are  the  decorative  ele- 
ments of  the  later  stately  architectural  Italian  Gardens  with  their 
fine  perspectives.^ 

^  The  Inventory  of '  Beestes  in  freeston  barynge  shyldes  with  the  kynges  armes 
and  the  Queeny's,'  is  thus  entered  in  the  Chapel  House  Accounts,  transcribed  by 
Mr  Law: — 'foure  dragones,  seyx  lyones,  five  grewhoundes,  five  harttes,  foure 
unicornes,  serving  to  stand  about  the  ponddes  in  the  pond  yard  ; '  and  the 
'  paynting  of  180  postes  with  white  and  greene  in  oyle,  and  sixteen  brazin 
dials  for  the  newe  garden,'  is  also  chronicled. 

'■^  Wood's  'Letters  of  an  Architect.' 

'  Much  ridicule  has  been  levelled  at  the  Italian  Gardens  for  being  only 
a  means  of  walking  up  and  down  stairs  in  the  open  air  ;  but  a  witty  writer  has 
retorted  that  the  Italian  finds  but  little  pleasure  in  the  melancholy  monotony 
of  an  English  Park,  and  least  of  all  in  a  large  extent  of  level  lawn  ;  and  that 
if  you  tell  him  that  in  this  he  was  to  contemplate  Nature  dressed,  he  would 
probably  reply  that  he  saw  in  it  only  Nature  shaved. 


339 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  341 

The  villas  Ludovisi,  Medici,  Doria  Pamphili,  the  gardens  of  the 
Quirinal  and  others  may  be  studied  in  Giovanni  Battista  Falda's 
copper-plates  of  Roman  gardens.  The  gardens  of  the  villa  Albani, 
outside  the  Porta  Salaria,  planned  by  the  great  Cardinal-Antiquary, 
Alessandro  Albani,  the  patron  and  friend  of  Winckelmann,  are 
taken  by  Taine  as  the  text  for  an  eloquent  sesthetic  sermon  upon 
the  art  and  arrangement  loved  by  the  "  grand  seigneur  homme 
de  cour  "  of  Italy  : — 

'  No  liberty  is  left  to  nature,  all  is  artificial.  The  water  leaps 
out  in  jets  and  plumes,  and  has  no  bed  save  vases  and  urns. 
The  lawns  are  hemmed  in  by  enormous  hedges  taller  than  a  man, 
thick  as  walls,  and  forming  geometrical  triangles  of  which  the 
apexes  all  point  to  one  centre.  In  the  foreground  stretches  a 
compact  alley  of  small  cypresses  planted  in  a  row. 

'  You  ascend  from  one  garden  to  another  by  large  stone  stair- 
cases like  those  at  Versailles.  The  flower-beds  are  enclosed  in 
small  box  frames ;  they  compose  designs  and  resemble  well- 
bordered  carpets  in  a  regular  medley  of  gradated  colours.  This 
villa  is  a  wreck,  as  it  were  the  fossil  skeleton  of  a  life  that  lasted 
two  centuries,  whose  chief  pleasure  was  conversation  amid  beauti- 
ful surroundings,  with  the  customs  of  Salon  and  Ante-chamber.'^ 

^  The  following  are  some  of  the  chief  authorities  on  Italian  villas  and 
Gardens : — 

Pietro  Crescenzi,  'Opus  Ruralium  Commodorum,'  Bk.  viii.,  1471. 

Angeli  Politiani,  '  Rusticus,'  i486. 

M.  Bussato,  '  Giardino  d'Agricoltura,' Venetia,  1612. 

I.  B.  Ferrarius,  '  de  Florum  Cultura,'  Rome,  1633. 

Israeli  Silvestro,  '  Alcune  vedute  di  Giardini  e  Fontane  di  Roma  e  di  Tivoli,' 
Paris,  1646. 

Melchior  Kysell,  '  Recueil  des  Jardins  Italians,'  Augsburg,  1682. 

G.  B.  Falda,  '  Li  Giardini  di  Roma,'  1670. 

Evelyn's  Diary. 

R.  Castell's  'Villas  of  the  Ancients,'  1728. 

L.  Vanvitelli,  '  Disegni  del  Reale  Palazzo  di  Caserta,'  1756. 

Piranesi's  'Vedute  di  Roma,'  1765. 

De  Brosse's  Letters. 

Eustace's  '  Classical  Tour  through  Italy.' 

Beckford's  '  Letters  from  Italy.' 


342  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Thus  much  upon  Italian  gardens  will  serve  as  prelude  to  the 
Elizabethan  garden,  which,  like  the  literature  of  the  day,  was 
cosmopolitan  and  eclectic — a  happy  fusion  of  the  early  Tudor 
garden  with  the  styles  of  Italy  and  France,  borrowing  from  the 
former  its  terraces  and  fountains,  and  from  the  latter  its  parterres, 
alleys,  berceaux  and  labyrinths.  Its  design  is  summed  up  in 
the  famous  Essay  of  Bacon,  the  crown  and  flower  of  garden 
literature,  which  contains  the  elements  of  all  styles  and  schools — 
of  the  architect's,  the  painter's,  the  natural  and  wild  garden  alike. 

One  typical  Elizabethan  garden  was  Theobalds,  the  garden 
of  Lord  Treasurer  Burleigh  (of  which  there  is  a  plan  by  Thorpe 
in  the  Soane  Museum),  described  by  Mandelslo  in  1640  as  a  large 
square,  with  its  walls  covered  with  Phillyrea,  a  jet  (Teau  in  the 
centre,  a  parterre,  with  walks  planted  on  the  sides  with  espaliers, 
and  others  '  arched  over ' :  a  mount  called  the  Mount  of  Venus 
is  in  the  midst  of  a  labyrinth  or  maize.  The  walks  '  arched  over ' 
are  due  to  the  art  of  the  'pleacher,'  a  word  derived  from  the 
French  'plesser'  to  weave  (from  the  woven  or  plaited  boughs), 
and  of  constant  occurrence  in  Shakespeare. 

Other  gardens  were  Hatfield  described  by  Hentzner,^  Holland 
House,  Kensington,  with  much  of  its  original  plan  still  existing ; 
and  the  Earl  of  Pembroke's  garden  at  Wilton  (before  the  days  of 
the  Palladian  Bridge),  here  shown  as  originally  designed  by  Isaac 
de  Caus,  son  of  the  old  Solomon  de  Caus,  from  whom  we  have  the 
plan  and  description  of  the  Schloss  garden  at  Heidelberg.-' 

The  euphuistic  praise  of  Wilton  by  John  Taylor,  the  'Water 

W.  S.  Rose's  '  Letters  from  the  North  of  Italy.' 

Sir  R.  C.  Hoare's  '  Classical  Tour.' 

Joseph  Forsyth's  '  Remarks  on  Italy,'  1802. 

G.  L.  Meason's  '  Landscape  Architecture  of  Italy,'  1828. 

R.  Duppa's  'Observations  and  Opinions  on  the  Continent.' 

Wood's  '  Letters  of  an  Architect,'  1828. 

Taine's  'Voyage  en  Italic  '  and  '  Philosophic  de  1'  Art.' 

Leader  Scott's  '  Ruccellai  Gardens.' 

Charles  A.  Piatt's  '  Italian  Gardens,'  1894. 

^  ante  p.  73. 

2  '  Plortus  Palatinus  Heidelbergae  exstructus,'  1620  (translated  in  Loudon). 


u 


344 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  345 

Poet,'  has  already  been  given  ^ — although  the  '  intricacy '  of  its 
'setting'  hardly  seems  to  equal  the  'twisting,  turnings  and 
windings  '  of  the  poet's  rhetorical  conceits ;  and  if  the  symbolical 
three  arbours  standing  in  a  triangle  cannot  be  detected,  the 
walks  one  within  another  like  '  the  rind  of  an  onion '  are  certainly 
visible. 

According  to  the  letter-press  with  the  copper-plates,  the  garden 
was  1000  feet  long  by  400  feet  broad,  and  was  divided  into  three 
long  squares  or  parallelograms.  The  first  from  the  house  con- 
tained four  platts  embroidered,  each  with  a  fountain  in  the  midst, 
marble  statues,  platts  of  flowers,  and  a  little  'terrass.'  The  second 
comprised  two  groves  or  woods,  with  the  River  Nadar  running 
through  them  under  a  bridge,  the  breadth  of  the  Great  Walk. 
In  the  groves  were  two  white  marble  statues,  8  feet  high,  of 
Bacchus  and  Flora ;  and  at  the  sides  two  covered  arbours,  300 
feet  long,  and  alleys.  In  the  third  division  were  two  ponds  with 
fountains,  and  two  columns  in  the  middle,  the  water  causing 
two  crowns  to  revolve.  Then  came  a  green  '  Compartment,'  the 
walks  planted  with  cherry-trees,  and  in  the  middle  a  great  Oval 
with  an  antique  Statue  of  a  Gladiator  in  brass  ;  at  the  sides  were 
three  arbours  with  'twining  Galleryes.' 

At  the  end  of  the  Great  Walk  stood  a  stone  portico  with  pilasters 
and  niches  containing  white  marble  figures,  and  a  '  terrass '  with 
sea-monsters  upon  the  steps  casting  water  from  top  to  bottom ; 
and  above  the  portico  was  a  '  reserve '  of  water  for  the  grotto. 

Of  Elizabethan  writers  not  before  quoted  Sir  Hugh  Piatt  of 
Lincoln's  Inn,  Gentleman,  'the  most  ingenious  husbandman 
of  the  age  he  lived  in,'-  should  be  remembered  as  the  author  of 
'  The  Jewel  House  of  Art  and  Nature,'  '  The  Paradise  of  Flora '  and 
'  The  Garden  of  Eden.'  He  was  an  advocate  for  complete  indi- 
viduality of  action  in  '  shaping  or  fashioning  a  Garden ' — and 
considered   that    'every    Drawer   or    Embroiderer,   nay   (almost) 

^  Aftte  p.  87. 

-  Tracts  on  practical  Agriculture  and  Gardening,  to  which  is  added  a  com- 
plete Chronological  Catalogue  of  English  Authors  on  Agriculture,  Gardening, 
etc.,  by  Richard  Weston,  London,  1769,  8vo. 


346  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

each  Dancing-master,  may  pretend  to  such  niceties,  how  long, 
broad  or  high,  the  Beds,  Hedges,  or  Borders  should  be  con- 
trived, in  regard  they  call  for  very  small  Invention  and  less 
learning;' — but  he  takes  much  trouble  to  explain,  in  anticipa- 
tion of  modern  Window-gardening,  how  'a  faire  Gallery,  great 
chamber  or  other  lodging,  may  be  inwardly  garnished  with  sweet 
herbs  and  flowers,  yea,  and  fruit— and  how  to  make  apt  frames 
for  letting  down  flower-pots  with  a  pulley  from  your  chamber- 
window,  and  flower-boxes  of  lead,  or  hordes  well  pitched  within, 
and  planted  with  Rosemary  'running  up  the  transums  or  movels 
of  your  windowes.' 

The  illustration  from  the  '  Hortus  Floridus '  by  Crispin  de  Pass 
shows  more  in  detail  the  pleached  Galleries  supported  by  sculptured 
columns,  and  the  beds  cut  up  into  quaint  geometrical  snippets  strewn 
upon  a  sea  of  sand,  and  '  set  with  fine  flowers,  but  thin  and  sparingly'; 
a  Book  of  Designs  of  a  similar  character  by  a  Flemish  Artist,  de 
Vries,^  plays  more  variations  upon  the  same  theme. 

The  name  of  Rembert  Dodonaeus  '^  associated  with  Clusius  and 
Crispin  de  Pass,  recalls  the  long  list  of  Herbals  which  appeared  in 
connection  with  the  Physic  Gardens  of  Europe.  The  translation 
of  Peter  Treveris's  'Crete  Herball'  was  the  first  published  in  English, 
in  1568.  But  William  Turner's  '  Herball,'  which  he  claims  to  have 
written  thirty  years  before,  makes  its  author  rather  than  Gerard 
'the  Father  of  the  English  Herbal.' ^  Dodoens-Lyte's  'Niewe 
Herball' appeared  in  1578,  and  finally  John  Gerarde,  the  most 
renowned  of  all,  published  in  London  his  '  Herball,'  of  which  a 
reduced  facsimile  of  the  title-page  is  given.  Gerarde  was  born  in 
1545,  educated  as  a  surgeon,  and  for  twenty  years  superintended 
the  Garden  of  Lord  Burleigh,  to  whom  the  Herbal  is  dedicated 

^  I.  Vredeman  de  Vries,  '  Ilortorum  Viridariorumque  Elegantes  Formae.' 
Antwerp,  1583. 

2  1517-1586  Physician  to  the  Emperor  MaximiHan  II.,  Professor  of  Physic 
at  Leyden,  and  author  of  '  Sterpium  Historise  Pemplades '  upon  which  Lyte 
and  Gerard  founded  their  HerVjals. 

2  Dean  of  Wells,  and  M.D.;  First  Book,  Black  Letter,  small  fo.,  1551  ;  2nd 
Book,  Cologne  1562.  Turner  had  physic  gardens  at  Cologne  and  later  at  Wells 
and  Kew — (Preface  addressed  to  Queen  Elizabeth). 


347 


The  Tille-Page  of  Gerarde's  '  Herball,'   1st  edition,   1597,  folio. 


349 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  351 

in  1597.  In  his  youth  he  had  taken  a  voyage  to  the  Baltic, 
and  on  his  return  Uved  in  Holborn  where  he  possessed  a  large 
physic  garden,  of  which  in  1596  he  published  a  catalogue  (the 
earliest  in  English),  and  this  garden  is  perhaps  the  one  delineated 
at  the  foot  of  the  title-page.  He  also  drew  up  a  letter  for  Lord 
Burleigh  recommending  that  a  physic  garden  should  be  established 
at  Cambridge  with  himself  at  its  head,  '  to  encourage  the  faculty  of 
simpling.' 

The  Herbal  was,  so  to  speak,  the  Catalogue  Raisonne  of  the 
physic  gardens,  public  and  private,  which,  on  the  revival  of  learn- 
ing, were  instituted  one  after  another  throughout  Europe.  Until 
recently  the  earliest  physic  or  botanical  garden  was  supposed  to 
"be  that  founded  at  Venice  in  1334  by  the  Surgeon  Gualtieri,^  if 
it  was  not  preceded  by  the  one  of  Matthaus  Sylvaticus  at  Salerno ; 
but  Herr  H.  Benrath,  in  his  interesting  introduction  to  the  official 
guide  to  the  Hamburg  Garden  Exhibition,^  states  that  the 
Rathsapothekengarten  (Municipal  Physic  Garden)  in  that  city  is 
much  older  than  the  Apothecary's  shop  known  to  have  been 
situated  on  the  Ness  in  1 3 1 6 ;  proving  that  a  Public  *  Garden 
of  Simples '  existed  prior  to  the  period  usually  quoted.^ 

^  Hazlitt's  'Gleanings  in  Old  Garden  Literature.' 

2  Rudolf  Mosse,  Hamburg,  1897. 

^  See  '  Sprengel's  Antiquitates  Botanicse,'  1798,  and  'Historia  Rei  Herbarise,' 
1808  ('  Geschichte  der  Botanik  '). 

The  chronological  order  of  the  foundation  of  the  various  public  physic 
gardens  seems  to  be  as  follows  : — 

1545.  At  Padua,  springing  from  Bonaside's  private  Garden  of  Simples 
founded  in  1533. 

1544.  At  Pisa,  begun  by  Cosmo  de  Medici,  with  Ghinusand  Csesalpinus  for 
first  two  directors. 

1547.  At  Bologna  founded  by  Lucas  Ghinus,  from  whom  Dr  Turner  ac- 
quired the  knowledge  enabling  him  to  admonish  Fuchsius  (the  godfather  of  the 
Fuchsia)  of  '  certeine  erroures '  (see  Preface  to  his  '  New  Herball '). 

1560  Gesner's  at  Zurich;  1570  Paris;  1577  Leyden,  under  direction  of 
Clusius ;  Petrus  Paaw  published  '  Jlortus  Publicus  Academicas  Lugduno- 
BatavK,'  1601,  with  plan  of  the  garden.  1580  Leipsic ;  1598  Montpelier,  by 
Henry  IV.,  famous  for  its  circular  form  of  which  De  Serres  gives  an  engraving. 
1610,  The  Jardin  des  Plantes,  Paris,  by  Louis  XHL    Oxford  had  to  wait  till 


352  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Other  Elizabethans  besides  Bacon  had  imaginative  and  pro- 
phetic glimpses  of  the  modern  or  landscape  garden — the  worthy 
Ambassador  (sent  to  lie  abroad  for  the  good  of  his  country)  and 
Provost  of  Eton,  Sir  Henry  Wotton  noted  '  a  certain  contrariety 
between  building  and  gardening ;  for  as  fabricks  should  be  regular, 
so  gardens  should  be  irregular,  or  at  least  cast  into  a  very  wild 
regularity'^ — and  Sir  Philip  Sidney  in  his  'Arcadia'  brings  his 
hero  to  a  '  well-arrayed  ground,'  that  was  *  neither  field,  garden, 
nor  orchard  ;  or  rather  it  was  both  field,  garden  and  orchard.' 

Here  is  Sidney  depicted  by  old  Isaac  Oliver,  the  miniaturist, 
reposing  in  the  Garden  at  Penshurst,  which  he  has  immortalised, 
with  its  '  pleached '  galler}'  in  the  distance ;  famous  once,  as 
Evelyn  says  in  his  '  Diar)-,'  for  the  noble  Conversation  which 
was  wont  to  meet  in  its  Gardens ;  such  conversation,  as  we 
know  from  Clarendon  in  more  troubled  days,  the  '  flowing '  and 
gracious  Falkland  attracted  round  him  in  his  garden-retreat  at 
Great  Tew,  near  Oxford, — a  '  College  situated  in  a  purer  Air ; 
so  that  his  house  was  a  University  in  a  less  volume.' 

And  now,  in  the  words  of  Sidney,  let  us  turn  to  our  'sweet 
enemy,  France,'  whose  hands  for  more  than  a  century  were 
destined  to  sway  the  sceptre  of  garden  sovereignty. 

1632,  when  Henry  Danvers,  Earl  of  Danby,  gave  five  acres  on  the  Cherwell, 
with  Jacob  Bobart  from  Brunswick  as  Superintendent,  whose  descendants  (says 
I.oudon)  are  still  in  Oxford.  In  1673  the  Apothecaries  founded  theirs  at 
Chelsea,  of  which  Miller,  author  of  the  Gardener's  Dictionary,  was  the  most 
famous  Director  during  half  a  century  (see  Field  and  Semple's  'Memoirs'). 
Tradescant's  garden  at  Lambeth  was  famous,  and  his  collection  left  to  Ashmole 
was  the  foundation  of  the  Ashmolean  Museum  :  but  except  the  catalogue, 
Tradescant  has  left  no  writings  (see  G.  W.  Johnson  and  Loudon). 

^  The  following  interesting  marginal  note  is  from  a  copy  of  Wotton's 
'Elements  of  Architecture'  by  Christopher  Wren,  Chaplain  to  Charles  L, 
Dean  of  Windsor  and  father  of  the  Architect :  '  For  disposing  the  current  of 
a  river  to  a  mightie  length  in  a  little  space  I  invented  the  serpentine,  a  form 
admirably  conveying  the  current  in  circular  and  yet  contrary  motions  upon  one 
and  the  same  level,  with  walks  and  retirements  betweene,  to  the  advantage  of 
all  purposes,  either  of  gardenings,  plantings  or  banquetings.  In  brief  it  is  to 
reduce  the  current  of  a  mile's  length  into  the  compass  of  an  orchard '  (see 
Gardener's  Magazine,  vol.  iii.  p.  480). 


Andre  le  Notre  :  after  Carlo  Maratti. 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  357 

Charles  Estienne  or  Stephens,  a  member  of  the  family  of 
France's  first  and  greatest  printers,  was  also  one  of  the  first  of 
her  scholars  and  garden-lovers;  and  by  his  little  book,  'De  re 
hortensi  libellus,'  a  sort  of  grammar  and  syntax  of  the  garden-art, 
and  his  larger  and  more  practical  work  in  collaboration  with 
Liebault,  the  '  Prcedium  Rusticum '  or  '  Maison  Rustique,'  ^ 
showed  that  for  him  the  well-known  printing  emblem  of  his  family 
had  a  literal  as  well  as  symbolic  meaning.- 

This  work  prepared  the  way  for  Olivier  de  Serres,  '  the  Father 
of  Agriculture,'  and  his  '  Theatre  d'Agriculture,'  (its  title  showing 
the  tendency  of  the  Gaul  to  seek  the  dramatic  even  in  the  pastoral;) 
wherein  Claude  Mollet,  the  King's  gardener,  is  commended  for 
his  invention  of  his  famous  '  Parterres  de  Broderies,'  of  which 
specimens  are  given.  Mollet  was  the  ancestor  of  several 
generations  of  great  Gardeners,  who  produced  between  them 
the  'Theatre  des  Plans  et  Jardinages.' 

Francis  I.,  who  died  in  1547,  in  building  his  Palace  of  Fontaine- 
bleau  had  introduced  into  the  Garden  some  of  the  features  of 
Italian  Gardens.  Of  Androuet  du  Cerceau  we  have  already 
spoken,  and  Richelieu's  Gardens  at  Rueil  were  so  magnificent  as 
to  make  Evelyn  doubt  'whether  Italy  has  any  exceeding  them 
for  varieties  of  pleasure.'^ 

And  now  we  reach  perhaps  the  greatest  name  in  the  whole 
History  of  Gardens ;  a  name  which  is  a  synonym  for  the  highest 
magnificence  in  Formal  or  Architectural  Gardening,  and  like  all 
greatness  has  to  bear  the  burden  of  the  faults  of  feeble  imitation. 

At  a  first  glance  the  accompanying  portrait  might  pass  for  that  of 
the  Grand  Monarch  himself,  but  it  is  only  that  of  his  head  gardener, 
Andre  Le  Notre.  We  have  Saint  Simon's  word  for  it  *  that  he  was 
a  man  of  great  simplicity,  honesty  and  integrity,  whose  only  thought 
was  to  aid  Nature  at  ///^  loivest  cost.  In  spite  of  his  endeavours 
to   be  natural  and  keep  down  expense,  Versailles  Gardens  are 

^  See  ante  pp.  43-45. 

2  That  of  a  gardener  grafting  on  an  olive  tree  with  the  motto  :  Rami 
frangiintiir  tit  inseierer. 

"  See  ante  pp.  51,  and  104-107.  *  See  ajtfe  pp.  102-3. 


^5^  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

commonly  cited  as  the  acme  of  the  artificial,  and  absorbed  from 
first  to  last  some  eight  millions  of  pounds,  its  fountains  at  one 
time  having  cost  ;!^30oo  to  set  working  for  half  an  hour.^ 

But  it  was  not  all  Le  Notre's  fault :  his  master  had  the  knack 
of  constantly  changing  his  mind  about  the  designs.  Of  Le  Notre's 
naivete  of  manners  and  familiarity  with  his  royal  Master  and  the 
Pope  amusing  stories  are  told.  Le  Notre  was  educated  as  an 
Architect,  and  is  said  to  have  found  his  earliest  garden  inspiration 
at  Rueil.  His  first  actual  experience  in  rural  design  was  obtained 
at  Vaux  le  Villars  (now  Vaux  Praslin)  and  the  result  so  delighted 
the  King,  that  he  made  him  Comptroller  General  of  Buildings 
and  Gardens.  For  Madame  Maintenon  he  worked  at  her  Convent 
Garden  at  Noisy-le  Roi,  where  he  formed  the  Grand  Canal  out  of 
a  marsh. 

A  perspective  view  of  Versailles  is  here  given,  showing  the  extent 
and  plan  on  a  minute  scale,  from  an  engraving  by  Perelle. 

Let  not  the  visitor  to  Versailles  at  the  present  day  imagine  that 
he  is  gazing  upon  Le  Notre's  creation — there  is  not  so  much  of  Le 
Notre  left  there,  as  there  is  of  Phidias  in  the  Parthenon  at  Athens. 
If  the  reader  doubt  this,  let  him  turn  to  M.  Ph.  Gille's  historical 
account  of  the  Gardens,^  or  better  still  to  Gautier's  '  comparative ' 
Retrospect  in  his  '  Tableaux  de  Siege,' — the  last  book  he  published. 
There  he  will  read  one  by  one  the  devastations  of  Reformers,  Re- 
storers, and  Modernisers,  no  doubt  all  men  of  taste  and  'improvers' 
according  to  the  ideas  of  the  time  :  so  that  what  was  once  a  whole, 
a  great  and  magnificent  unit,  is  now  a  defaced  and  disintegrated 
fraction. 

Le  Notre's  Garden  seems  made  to  exhibit  to  the  utmost  the 
social  characteristics  of  the  French  people  of  the  Grand  Century. 
They  extend  their  houses  into  their  gardens,  which  are  necessarily 
architectural :  open-air  drawing  and  dining  rooms  as  shown  in  their 
very  nomenclature.  Their  groves  are  cut  into  Salons  and  Saiks 
de  J3a/,  their  lawns  rases  like  their  heads,  and  paths  biett  peignes 
like  their  periwigs ;  as  lovers  of  the  stage  and  drama,  their  very 

^  In  their  curtailed  form  in  1816,  £2(X>  an  hour.     The  difference  is  typical. 
"^  'La  France  Artistique  et  Monumentale.' 


359 


36i 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  ^63 

fountains  must  '  play '  in  their  Theatres  d'Eau,  and  they  kill 
time  in  open-air  Circuses  and  Amphitheatres.  '  Such  symmetry  ' 
we  echo  with  Lord  Byron,  'is  not  for  solitude.' 

Le  Notre  found  the  ground  at  Versailles  prepared  by  Boyceau,^ 
and  the  main  features  of  his  design  are  :  The  Foiai tains  of  Latona, 
The  Royal  Alley,  The  Parterre  du  Nord  (a  Parterre  of  Le  Notre's 
is  a  whole  garden  in  itself  1 )  ;  The  Parterre  dii  Midi,  (which  still 
shows  the  sole  remaining  '  broderies  '  of  Le  Notre) :  The  Bosquets 
(or  Groves)  of  which  not  a  trace  remains,  The  Pyramid  Fountain, 
The  Water  Alley,  and  The  Water  Theatre,  now  altered  into  a  great 
circle  of  turf  with  the  Bassin  des  Enfants  in  the  centre. 

Let  us  go  a  little  more  into  detail,  humbly  following  the 
guidance  of  Gautier  and  ^L  Gille. 

Here  is  a  view  of  the  Theatre  dEau  as  Le  Notre  designed  it. 
Three  alleys  opening  like  a  fan  are  cut  in  the  '  curtain '  of  shaped 
trees,  forming  long  perspectives  bordered  with  yews,  like  the 
'  wings '  in  a  theatre  :  three  rows  of  fountains  rise  in  tiers,  and  at 
the  end  of  the  alleys  are  statues  of  Jupiter  on  an  eagle,  Mars  and 
Plutus  ;  fountains,  too,  form  the  '  foot-lights.'  Six  water  '  scenes  ' 
by  \"igarani,  in  the  shape  of  lances,  lilies  and  other  devices  are 
celebrated  in  heroic  verse  by  C.  Denis,  Fontainier  du  Roy,  who 
does  honour  to  these  watery  fire-works.^ 

The  Alice  dEau  (vulgarly  called  the  'Alley  of  Marmosets') 
was  composed  of  groups  of  children  and  little  genii  in  bronze, 
carrying  vases,  from  which  the  water  fell  into  marble  basins. 

To  the  Basin  of  Neptune  were  added  under  Louis  XV.  the  Sea 
God  with  trident,  Tritons  and  children,  the  work  of  Bouchardon, 
Lemoyne  and  Adam  :  where  once  stood  the  '  Arc  de  Triomphe ' 
or  '  Chateau  d'Eau  Triomphale '  is  now  a  grassy  waste,  almost 
a  virgin  forest.  The  Arc  was  destroyed  when  the  Park  was 
replanted  under  Louis  XVI. ;  and  at  the  same  time  the  Bosquet  des 
Trois  Fontaines  had  the  144  jets  of  water  cut  off  and  was  put  under 
lock  and  key. 

In   the   statuary  of  the  '  Baths   of  Apollo,'  by  Girardon  and 

^  Author  of  '  Traite  du  Jardinage  selon  les  raisons  de  la  Nature  et  de  I'Art.' 
-  See  also  '  L'Art  des  Fontaines  '  by  Jean  Francois,  1665. 

2  A 


364  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Regnaudin  was  a  transparent  compliment  to  '  Le  Roi  Soleil ' 
reposing  from  his  labours.  '  When  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
Citizen  Rousseau  discovered  Nature,  English  ideas  invaded  the 
Continent,  and  the  fashion  was  for  landscape  gardens.  This 
transformation  was  effected  at  Versailles  by  the  plan  of  Hubert 
Robert,  the  designer  in  fashion,  the  "  Romantique  "  of  the  moment, 
the  painter  of  ruins,  who,  amongst  other  improvements,  hollowed 
out  of  an  enormous  sham  rock  three  grottos  as  a  sort  of  umbrella 
to  the  group  of  Apollo  and  the  Nymphs,  and  as  stables  for  the 
horses  of  the  sun ;  wall  plants  were  scattered  over  the  rocks,  and 
water  came  through  the  fissures.  The  English  style  gained  the 
victory  over  the  French,  and  the  beauties  of  Versailles,  the  marvel 
of  the  universe,  became  purely  historical;  its  life  was  gone  out, 
its  character  was  lost.'     {Gautier.) 

The  illustration  after  Rigaud  shows  the  Bains  (fApollon  before 
the  improvements,  when  the  gilt  metal  canopies  still  sheltered 
the  statuary.  The  Bosquet  de  Venus  was  the  scene  of  the  famous 
Diamond  Necklace  Rendez-vous  between  the  Cardinal  de  Rohan 
and  Demoiselle  Oliva. 

The  Salle  de  Bal  as  here  given,  is  the  least  disfigured  by  the 
alterations  of  Hubert  Robert.  On  this  spot  a  royal  supper  was 
given  in  1691  to  the  King  and  Queen  of  England;  and  although 
the  steps  for  the  spectators  have  disappeared  and  many  details 
are  changed,  the  shades  of  the  courtiers  might  still,  according 
to  Gautier,  execute  the  Ballets  of  Benserade.  The  Labyrinth 
was  composed  of  a  complicated  net-work  of  alleys  cutting  one 
another  at  right  angles  or  forming  curves  of  the  most  puzzling 
character.  At  each  turning  was  a  fountain  in  rockwork  on 
which  was  represented  one  of  ^sop's  fables.  Of  this  labyrinth 
no  appreciable  trace  remains. 

Taine  well  sums  up  the  impression  left  by  Le  Notre's  creation  : — 

'The  monarchical  and  formal  gardens  of  Le  Notre  are  the 
complements  of  the  grave,  pompous,  and  studied  architecture 
of  Mansard  and  Perrault;  buildings  and  parterres  are  all  con- 
structed for  men  studious  of  their  dignity  and  observers  of  the 
proprieties.'^  *It  was,'  says  Gautier,  'the  supreme  formula  of 
'  Philosophic  de  I'Art. 


a. 
< 


365 


La  .Salle  ile  iJal,  Xersailles  :  after  Cottel,  1688. 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  369 

a   complete   art,  and   the  expression  at  its  highest  power  of  a 
civilisation  arrived  at  its  full  expansion.'  ^ 

^  For  the  history  of  the  garden  in  France,  the  following  works,  besides  those 
already  quoted,  may  be  consulted  : — 

Pierre  Vallet,  '  Le  Jardin  du  Roy  Ires  chrestien  Henri  IV.,'  1608. 

Jacques  Boyceau,  '  Traite  de  Jardinage  selon  les  raisons  de  la  Nature  et  de 
I'Art,'  63  plates,  1638. 

Andre  MoUet,  '  Le  Jardin  de  Plaisir,'  Stockholm,  165 1. 

Israel  de  Silvestre,  '  Jardins  et  Fontaines,'  Paris,  1 66 1. 

Jean  Marot's  Architecture. 

I.  Le  Pautre,  Engravings  of  Gardens,  Grottos  and  Fountains,  c.  1670. 

Adam  Perelle,  Collection  of  Engravings,  1685. 

A.  J.  B.  Le  Blond,  '  Engravings  of  Plans  for  Gardens,'  1685. 
,,  ,,         '  Parterres  de  Broderie,'  1688. 

,,  ,,         'The   Theory  and   Practice   of  Gardening,   c.    1690.' 

Translated  by  John  James,    1728.      (This  book  is  sometimes  attributed  to 
d'Argenville,  whose  edition  in  1739  has  very  valuable  plates.) 

'  Le  Labyrinthe  de  Versailles,'  Plates  of  Fountains  by  Leclerc,  1679. 

N.  Langlois,  '  Parterres,'  23  Plans  after  Le  Notre,  Le  Bouteux. 

L.  Liger,  '  Le  Jardinier  Fleuriste,'  1719. 

J.  Mariette,  '  Parterres  de  Broderie,'  etc.,  c.  1730. 

J.  F.  Blondel,  'de  la  Distribution  des  Maisons  de  Plaisance,'  160  plates, 
Paris,  1737-8. 

'  Le  Spectacle  de  la  Nature,'  Vol.  II.,  1735. 

Galimard  fils,  'Architecture  de  Jardins,'  68  plates,  folio,  1765. 

Roger  Schabol,  '  Dictionnaire  du  Jardinage,'  1767. 
,,  ,,         'La  Theorie  du  Jardinage,'  1785. 

Laugier,  '  Essai  sur  I'Architecture,'  1753. 

N.  Morel,  'Theorie  des  Jardins,'  1776, 

G.   L.  le  Rouge,   '  Details  des  nouveaux  Jardins  a  la  mode  ;    200  plates, 
and  '  Recueil  des  plus  beaux  Jardins  de  I'Europe,'  1776-87. 

'  Promenade  ou  Itineraire  des  Jardins  d'Ermenonville,'  25  illustrations  by 
Merigot,  Paris,  1788. 

Vues  Pittoresques,  Plans,  etc.,  des  Principaux  Jardins  Anglois  qui  sont  en 
France  (Engravings  in  colour  of  the  Trianon  Gardens),  4to,  c.  1785. 

Description  de  Montmorency,  19  Engravings  by  Le  Prieur,  1788. 

A.  L.  Laborde,  '  Descriptions  des  nouveaux  Jardins  de  la  France,'  plates 
by  Bourgeois,  1808-21. 

J.  C.  Krafft,  '  Plans  des  plus  beaux  Jardins,'  1810. 

Gabriel  Thouin,  '  Plans  Raisonnes  des  Jardins,'  50  lithographed  plates,  1819. 
'  Essai  sur  la  Composition  et  I'ornement  des  Jardins,'  107  plates,  Paris,  1823. 

Percieret  Fontaine,  '  Choix  des  plus  celebres  Maisons  de  Plaisance,'  75  plates, 
Paris,  1809. 


370  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Le  Notre  was  also  the  creator  of  St  Cloud,  where  Nature  had 
greater  liberty ;  he  made  plans  for  the  Villas  Panfili  and  Ludovisi 
in  Rome,  and  was  invited  to  England  by  Charles  II.,  where  it 
is  said  he  had  a  hand  in  designing  St  James's  Park,  but  whether 
this  is  true  or  not,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  Le  Notre's 
influence  extended  to  England.  No  name  stands  out  like  his, 
but  John  Rose,  the  best  English  gardener  of  his  time,  served 
successively  the  Earl  of  Essex  at  Essex  House,  Strand,  in  1665, 
the  Duchesses  of  Cleveland  and  Somerset,  and  Charles  II.  at  St 
James's. 

His  first  master  sent  him  to  Versailles  to  study  the  style  of  Le 
Notre,  and  so  the  French  tradition  was  established  here,  and 
handed  on  to  Mr  London,  Rose's  favourite  pupil  and  successor. 
Rose  was  painted  presenting  the  first  pineapple  cultivated  in 
England  to  Charles  II.;  and  was  the  author  of  'The  English 
Vineyard '  which  first  appeared  in  i6j2,  at  the  end  of  Evelyn's 
'  French  Gardener.' 

Le  Notre's  counterpart  in  the  kitchen  garden  was  La  Quintinye,^ 
the  constructor  of  the  great  '  Jardin  Potager '  or  kitchen  garden,  at 
Versailles,  which  exists  almost  unaltered  to  this  day.  Here  he 
introduced  his  famous  method  of  training  fruit-trees  on  espaliers. 
The  translation  of  La  Quintinye's  '  Compleat  Gardener '  into 
English  by  John  Evelyn  (or  his  son)  brings  us  to  the  man  who, 
in  the  words  of  Switzer,  '  first  taught  Gardening  to  speak  proper 
English,'  the  author  of  '  Sylva '  and  the  famous  '  Diary ' ;  to  whom 
Oxford  owes  the  Arundel  marbles,  Engraving  the  first  clear  ex- 
position, if  not  the  invention  of  Mezzotint,  Science  the  foundation 
of  the  Royal  Society,  and  England  many  of  her  noblest  trees. 

Here  is  his  portrait  with  the  autograph  inscription  to  La  Quin- 
tinye.  The  Journal  of  his  Grand  Tour,  as  we  have  seen,-  is 
almost  that  of  a  tour  round  the  Grand  Gardens  of  Europe ; 
and  he  loved  to  read  and  write  about  gardens  almost  as  much 
as  to  design  and  visit  them.  All  through  a  long  life  of  eighty- 
seven  years,  almost  contemporary  with  Le  Notre,  John  Evelyn 
devoted  himself  to  the  improvement  of  the  garden  by  precept  and 
^  See  ante  p.  115.  -  Ante  pp.  103- 115. 


reefy  7n  ertue    «<  cmo  >*- .  '^^^etv/o 


Engraved  by  Swaine  after  Xanteiiil. 


II) 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  t^jt^ 

practice.  He  has  left  us  in  Hortulan  literature  the  '  Kalendarium 
Hortense,'  a  'Discourse  on  Sallets,'  and  the  scheme  of  a  vast 
gardening  work  called  '  Elysium  Brittanicum,'  which  he  did  not 
live  to  complete.  At  Wotton  in  Surrey  (still  belonging  to  his 
descendant)  he  unfortunately  yielded  to  the  taste  of  the  time 
and  removed  a  mountain  to  fill  up  the  Moat,  and  here  also  he 
contrived  a  Grotto  which  he  calls  a  '  Pausilippo,'  after  the  famous 
one  near  Naples.  He  constructed  the  Oval  Garden  at  Sayes 
Court  near  Deptford,  where  the  'Czar  of  Muscovy'  (Peter  the 
Great)  amused  himself  in  1698  by  being  trundled  in  a  wheel- 
barrow through  the  holly-hedges  and  over  the  box  borders ;  for 
which  piece  of  fun  Sir  Christopher  Wren  (the  Architect)  and 
London  (the  Gardener)  assessed  the  damages  of  a  three  months' 
tenancy  at  £iS°- 

Old  Sir  Thomas  Browne,^  the  famous  Norwich  Physician,  treats 
in  his  '  Garden  of  Cyrus '  of  the  '  Quincuncial  Lozenge  of  the 
Ancients,'  but  inasmuch  as  the  Quincunx  had  been  the  recognised 
method  of  planting  trees  (to  form  a  grove  in  a  square  of  five 
repeated  over  and  over  again,  so  that  look  which  way  you  will, 
equal  or  parallel  alleys  are  seen),  he  did  not  add  much  to  our 
knowledge  of  garden  design. 

To  this  age  too  belongs  the  Prince  of  Garden  Poets,  Andrew 
Marvel,  and  they  are  to  be  envied  who  have  yet  to  breathe  the 
fragrance  of  his  garden  verse  : 

Annihilating  all  that's  made 
To  a  green  thought  in  a  green  shade.^ 

A  passing  mention  is  deserved  by  Ralph  Austen,  a  student  of 
Magdalen  College,  Oxford,  where  he  spent  his  time  in  gardening 
and  raising  fruit  trees,  and  wrote  the  '  Spiritual  use  of  an  Orchard  ' ; 
by  John  Rea,  a  practical  gardener  of  forty  years  experience  who 
laid  out  Lord  Gerard's  garden  at  Gerard's  Bromley,  and  was  the 
author  of  '  a  rude  Draught  of  a  Rustick  Garden '  called  '  Flora, 
Ceres  and  Pomona'  (1665),  wherein  he  states  that  he  has  seen 
many  gardens  of  the  new  model  in  the  hands  of  unskilful  persons, 
with  good  walls,  walks,  and  grass-plots,  but  in  the  most  essential 
^  See  ante  pp.  94-6.  -  ante  p.  240. 


374  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

adornments  so  deficient  that  a  green  meadow  is  a  more  delightful 
object.  .  .  .  And  as  all  noble  Fountains,  Grottoes,  Statues,  etc. 
are  excellent  ornaments  and  works  of  Magnificence,  so  all  such 
dead  works  in  Gardens  ill-done  are  little  more  than  blocks  in  the 
way  to  interrupt  the  sight,  but  not  at  all  to  satisfie  the  under- 
standing.' 

While  Le  Notre's  trumpet  was  being  blown  throughout  Europe, 
a  still  small  tune  was  piped  in  Scotland,  teniii  afu/idi/u-  hy  John 
Reid  (gardener  to  Sir  George  Mackenzie  of  Rosehaugh,  Aberdeen- 
shire), who  produced  at  Edinburgh  in  1683  the  earliest  Scotch 
Gardening  Book,  '  the  Scots  Gard'ner.'  The  thrifty  simplicity 
of  his  idea  of  a  pleasure-garden  is  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the 
magnificence  of  Versailles  and  its  imitations  : — 

'  Pleasure-Gardens  useth  to  be  divided  into  walkes  and  plots, 
with  a  Bordure  round  each  plot,  and  at  the  corner  of  each,  may 
be  a  holly  or  some  such  train'd  up,  some  P)Tamidal,  others 
Spherical,  the  Trees  and  Shrubs  at  the  ^^'all  well  plyed  and  prun'd, 
the  Green  thereon  cut  in  several  Figures,  the  walkes  layed  with 
Gravel,  and  the  plots  within  with  Grass,  (in  several  places  whereof 
may  be  Flower  pots)  the  Bordures  boxed,  and  planted  with  variety 
of  Fine  Flowers  orderly  Intermixt,  ^^'eeded,  Mow'd,  Rolled,  and 
kept  all  clean  and  handsome.' 

The  Dutch  style  of  laying  out  gardens,  introduced  into  England 
by  William  III.  and  Mary,  is  not  unlike  the  French,  but  every- 
thing is  on  a  smaller,  almost  too  minute  a  scale  ;  and  much  care  is 
expended  upon  isolated  details  and  ornaments  (often  trivial),  such 
as  glass  balls,  coloured  sands  and  earth,  flower-pots  innumerable, 
and  painted  perspectives ;  and  the  garden  is  usually  intersected 
with  canals  degenerating  into  ditches. 

'  Grassy  slopes,  green  terraces  and  straight  canals  are  more 
common  in  Holland  than  in  any  other  country  of  the  Continent, 
and  these  verdant  slopes  and  mounds  may  be  said  to  form, 
with  their  oblong  canals,  the  characteristics  of  the  Dutch  style.' 
{Loudon.) 

Typical  instances  on  a  large  scale  were  the  Gardens  at  Loo, 


376 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  i-]-] 

designed  by  Marot,  the  King's  Architect,  and  the  Gardens  of 
the  Count  de  Nassau,^  Ryswick,  Houslaerdyk  and  SorgvUet. 

From  Dr  Harris's  'Description  of  Loo,'  (1699)  we  learn 
that  '  the  hedges  are  chiefly  of  Dutch  elms ;  and  the  avenues 
of  oaks,  elms,  and  limes.  The  figures  into  which  the  trees  and 
shrubs  are  cut,  are,  for  the  most  part,  pyramids.  On  the  walls 
fresco  paintings  are  introduced  in  various  places  between  the 
trees.  In  the  arbour  walks  of  the  queen's  garden  are  seats,  and 
opposite  to  them  windows  through  which  views  can  be  had  of 
the  fountains,  statues  and  other  objects  in  the  open  garden.  The 
parterres  in  the  queen's  garden  are  surrounded  by  hedges  of 
Dutch  elm  about  four  feet  high.  The  seats  and  prop  work  of 
all  the  arbours,  and  the  trellis  work  on  the  fruit  tree  walls  are 
painted  green.  All  along  the  gravel  walks,  and  round  the  middle 
fountain  are  placed  orange-trees  and  lemon-trees  in  portable 
wooden  frames  and  flower-pots  about  them.' 

The  copper-plates  in  Van  der  Groen's  or  Van  Oesten's  Dutch 
gardening  books  give  a  good  idea  of  the  Dutch  Garden  on  a 
smaller  scale^ — and  for  an  extreme  instance  of  the  lilliputian 
garden  we  cannot  do  better  than  quote  De  Amicis's  description 
of  the  gardens  at  Broek  : — 

"  The  gardens  are  not  less  odd  than  the  houses.  They  seem 
made  for  dwarfs.  The  paths  are  scarcely  wide  enough  for  the 
feet,  the  arbors  can  contain  two  very  small  persons  standing 
close  together,  the  box  borders  would  not  reach  the  knee  of  a 
child  of  four  years  old.  Between  the  arbors  and  the  tiny  flower- 
beds there  are  little  canals,  apparently  made  for  toy-boats,  which 
are  spanned  here  and  there  by  superfluous  bridges  with  little 
painted  railings  and  columns;  basins  about  as  large  as  an  ordinary 
sitz-bath  contain  a  liliputian  boat  tied  by  a  red  cord  to  a  sky-blue 
post ;  tiny  steps,  paths,  gates,  and  lattices  abound,  each  of  which 
can  be  measured  with  the  hand,  or  knocked  down  with  a  blow  of 
the  fist,  or  jumped  ov^  with  ease.  Around  houses  and  gardens 
stand  trees  cut  in  the  shape  of  fans,  plumes,  discs,  etc ,  with  their 
trunks  painted  white  and  blue,  and  here  and  there  appears  a 
'  See  Le  Rouge's  Designs.  -  See  also  ante  pp.  36-8. 


2,7^  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

little  wooden  house  for  a  domestic  animal,  painted,  gilded,  and 
carved  like  a  house  in  a  puppet  show."  ' 

Hampton  Court  is  the  finest  example  in  England  of  the  Dutch 
style,  modified  to  some  extent  by  Le  Notre's  original  plans. 
Beaumont,  one  of  his  pupils  (who  also  laid  out  Levens,  in 
Westmoreland,  for  Colonel  Graham)  was  employed  here,  and  in 
Kip's  view  of  Hampton  Court  we  see  the  Gardens  in  all  their 
glory  in  Queen  Anne's  reign. 

The  large  semi-circle  of  limes  was  planted  by  Charles  H., 
enclosing  gi  acres.  London  (the  pupil  of  Rose  and  partner  of 
Wise)  had  laid  out  the  great  semi-circular  parterre  under  William 
in.  The  only  fault  Queen  Anne  found  was  too  much  box,  which 
she  had  rooted  up,  disliking  the  smell,  as  Defoe  tells  us,  but  it 
was  replanted  later.  Evelyn  notes  the  cradlework  of  hornbeam 
in  '  Queen  Mary's  bower.'  The  style  of  London  and  Wise  was 
said  to  combine  the  best  features  of  the  French  and  Dutch  styles — 
their  arbour  '  an  alcove  arched  over  with  trellis,  excluding  neither 
wind  nor  rain  '  existed  till  1876.  On  the  north  side  was  the  wilder- 
ness, or  maze — very  rectangular,  bounded  by  tall  clipped  hedges, 
and  called  '  Troy  Town.'  Kent,  under  Queen  Caroline  (Consort 
of  George  H.)  simplified  the  scrolls  and  lacework  of  the  'Great 
Parterre  '  by  substituting  plain  lawns.- 

Sir  William  Temple  showed  his  love  for  his  garden  at  Moor 
Park  near  Farnham  by  ordering  his  heart  to  be  buried  there  in  a 
silver  box  under  a  sun-dial.  Besides  writing  a  delightful  work  called 
'  The  Gardens  of  Epicurus '  in  which  he  gives  the  palm  of  '  the 
perfectest  figure  of  a  Garden  '  to  that  of  Moor  Park  in  Hertfordshire, 
on  the  slope  of  a  hill  with  two  terraces,  one  above  the  other,  reached 
by  a  fine  flight  of  steps,  he  possessed  another  Garden  at  Sheen,  in 
one  of  which  his  Secretary  Swift  was  taught  by  the  King  how  to  cut 
asparagus.  William  was  the  first  to  replace  stone  walls  previously 
used  in  gardens  by  the  splendid  wrought-iron  gates  known  as 
'  Clair-voyees,'  on  account  of  the  uninterrupted  view  they  per- 
mitted.   Of  these  a  fine  example  exists  at  Hampton  Court.    With 

^  '  Holland,'  translated  from  the  Italian  by  Caroline  Tilton,  1880. 
-  See  Ernest  Law's  '  History  of  Hampton  Court.' 


1   ta 


C   ^ 


&  .5 
.2   c 


2  B 


TJ    a, 


^3 


c56  m 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  383 

all  his  love  for  the  formal  garden,  Temple  is  modern  enough  to 
admit  that  there  may  be  other  forms,  wholly  irregular,  that  may 
have  more  beauty  than  any  of  the  others,  '  but  they  must  owe  it  to 
some  extraordinary  dispositions  of  Nature  in  the  seat,  or  some 
great  race  of  fancy  or  judgment  in  the  contrivance.'  Fifty  years 
after  Temple's  mention  of  the  Chinese  Gardens  '  as  too  hard  of 
achievement,'  they  were  being  universally  copied  in  England  and 
the  Continent. 

Our  next  view  is  Stowe  in  Buckinghamshire,  showing  the  Great 
Parterre  from  the  Portico,  as  laid  out  by  Bridgman  for  Lord 
Cobham  about  17 14.  Bridgman  banished  verdant  sculpture  from 
his  garden,  but  still  retained  green  architecture  (observe  the 
■  arches),  straight  alleys  and  palissades  and  began  to  introduce  '  a 
little  gentle  disorder  into  the  plantation  of  his  trees  and  bushes.' - 
The  whole  garden  became  a  sort  of  practical  pun  upon  the  name 
of  its  owner.  Lord  Temple,  who  seems  to  have  had  temples  on 
the  brain,  and  dedicated  them  to  every  possible  Deity  and  Virtue. 
Stowe  almost  epitomises  the  early  history  of  Landscape  Gardening, 
for  Kent  succeeded  Bridgman  as  its  'Liiprover,'  and  'Capability' 
Brown  began  his  career  here  in  the  humble  post  of  kitchen 
gardener.  Pope  held  up  Stowe  as  an  ideal  almost  unattainable, 
crying  in  ecstacy  :— 

'  Time  shall  make  it  grow, 
A  thing  U)  wonder  at,  perhaps  a  "'  Stowe  "  ! ' 

The  name  of  Pope  brings  us  to  the  borderland  dividing  the 
old  garden  from  the  new,  as  Pope's  own  verse  may  be  said  to  be 

^  The  following  books  on  the  Dutch  Garden  mav  be  consulted  : — 

Beudeker's  '  Germania  Inferior '  {British  Miiseiivt), 

Crispin  de  Pass  '  Hortus  Floridus.' 

A'an  der  Groen  '  Le  Jardinier  des  Pays  Bas,'  1672. 

Commelyn  '  Hortus  Amstelodamus,'  1697. 

,,  '  Belgic  or  Netherlandish  Hesperides,"  1683. 

Ilenrik  van  Oesten  '  The  Dutch  Gardener,'  1703. 

De  Groot  '  Les  Agrements  de  la  Campagne,'  1750. 

A  Rademaker,  '  Holland's  Arcadia'  1730. 

John  Ray  '  Observations  on  a  Journey  through  the  Low  Countries,'  1673. 
'^  Horace  Walpole. 


384  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

the  turning-point  in  literature.  By  his  famous  Number  173  of 
the  'Guardian '  ridiculing  the  absurdities  and  excesses  of  'verdant 
sculpture '  and  the  cut-box  system,  and  putting  up  for  sale  '  Adam 
and  Eve  in  yew — Adam  a  little  shaken  by  the  fall  of  the  Tree 
of  Knowledge,' — by  his  Epistle  to  Lord  Burlington  on  the 
Aesthetic  of  Gardening,  and  by  his  own  example  in  his  villa  at 
Twickenham  where  he  and  his  gardener,  John  Serle,  planned  the 
wonderful  grotto  he  describes  in  his  letters,  the  echo  of  which 
has  alone  survived.  Pope  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  pioneers  of 
modern  gardening.  A  plan  is  here  given  of  the  garden  of  five 
acres  (never  before  had  so  small  a  compass  produced  such  a 
revolutionary  effect  upon  gardening  ! )  as  left  at  the  Poet's  death 
in  1744,  by  his  gardener,  John  Serle.  Thereon  appears  the 
Shell  Temple,  the  large  Mount,  the  two  small  Mounts,  the  Vine- 
yard, the  Obelisk  in  memory  of  his  mother,  the  Grove,  the 
Orangery  and  the  Underground  Passage  leading  to  the  Grotto. 
We  have  also  fourteen  years  later  from  the  pen  of  Horace 
Walpole,  a  description  of  it  when  the  property  of  Sir  ^^'illiam 
Stanhope.  '  Would  you  believe  it,  he  has  cut  down  the  sacred 
groves  themselves  !  In  short,  it  was  a  little  bit  of  ground  of  5 
acres,  inclosed  with  three  lanes  and  seeing  nothing.  Pope  has 
twisted  and  twirled  and  rhymed  and  harmonised  this  till  it 
appeared  two  or  three  sweet  little  lawns  opening  and  opening 
beyond  one  another,  and  the  whole  surrounded  with  thick  im- 
penetrable woods.  Sir  William,  by  advice  of  his  son-in-law, 
Mr  Ellis,  has  hacked  and  hewed  these  groves,  wriggled  a 
winding-gravel  walk  through  them  with  an  edging  of  shrubs, 
in  what  they  call  the  modern  taste,  and,  in  short,  has  desired 
the  three  lanes  to  walk  in  again — and  now  is  forced  to  shut 
them  out  again  by  a  wall,  for  there  was  not  a  Muse  could 
walk  there  but  she  was  spied  by  every  country  fellow  that  went 
by  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth.' ^  Pope  divides  the  literary  honours 
of  his  generation  with  Addison  who,  humorist  himself,  in  his 
equally  famous  '  Spectator '  on  the  '  Pleasures  of  a  Garden,' 
declared  Nature  should  be  humoured,  instead  of  being  coerced. 
^  Letter  to  Sir  Horace  Mann,  June  20th,  1760. 


°ii'^'^^  f 'J. ^  ^  t--'1 1 1  i S  i 


385 


387 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  389 

He  objected  to  '  trees  rising  in  cones,  globes  and  pyramids '  and 
thought  'an  orchard  in  flower  looked  infinitely  more  delightful 
than  all  the  Httle  labyrinths  of  the  most  finished  parterre.' 

I  believe  Addison's  garden  at  Bilton  in  Warwickshire  still  wears 
much  the  same  aspect  it  bore  in  his  own  day. 

Stephen  Switzer  in  his  '  Ichnographia  Rustica '  declares  him- 
self a  partisan  of  Pope,  and  of  the  '  Rural '  style  which  slowly 
superseded  the  Grand  Manner  of  Le  Notre ;  although  Batty 
Langley  tried  to  show  the  world  how  the  Grand  and  Rural 
manners  might  lie  down  together  in  perfect  amity. 

Johnson  (the  Historian  of  Gardens)  considers  this  book  one  of 
the  Classics  of  Gardening.  Switzer  gives  a  discursive  History  of  the 
Art  up  to  his  own  day,  lays  down  the  principle  that  Design  should 
be  founded  on  variety,  and  is  of  opinion  that  a  little  regularity 
should  be  allowed  near  the  main  building  and  then  a  gradual 
procession  from  finished  Art  to  Wild  Nature. 

Of  the  numerous  bird's  eye  views  of  Gardens  to  be  found  in 
Kip's  '  Britannia  Illustrata '  or  Beeverel's  '  Delices  de  la  Grande 
Bretagne,'  such  as  Longleat,  Badminton  and  Chatsworth, 
Blomfield  and  Inigo  Thomas's  'Formal  Garden'  has  treated  so 
fully,  that  there  is  no  necessity  to  go  again  over  the  same  ground. 

The  Colleges  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  ^  often  preserved  the 
integrity  of  their  old-fashioned  Gardens  through  various  changes 
of  style  around  them — and  in  Loggan's  view  of  Wadham  College 
in  1675  '^"'^y  t>e  seen  the  Mount,  and  the  Palissades  or  Groves 
looking  in  Horace  Walpole's  words,  '  like  Green  Chests  set  upon 
Poles.'  A  view  is  given  here  of  the  Gardens  of  Trinity  College, 
Oxford,  on  the  left  of  which  may  be  seen  the  peculiarly  designed 
grove  or  labyrinth.  Even  so  ardent  a  '  Landscapist '  as  Humphry 
Repton  has  declared  that  he  should  '  doubt  the  taste  of  any  im- 
prover who  could  despise  the  congruity,  ability,  order  and  sym- 
metry of  these  Gardens  of  Trinity.'  But  we  have  lingered  long 
enough  in  the  formal  garden. 

^  See  D.  Loggan's  '  Oxonia  Illustrata,'  1675,  '  Cantabrigia  Illustrata,' Willis 
and  Clark's  History  of  the  University  of  Cambridge,  and  the  various  College 

Histories. 


390  THK  PRAISK  OF  GARDENS 

The  reaction  in  favour  of  the  natural  garden  was  largely  assisted 
by  the  letters  of  the  French  Jesuit  Missionaries  describing  the 
Chinese  Emperor's  gardens  at  Pckin. 

The  Pere  Attiret's  description  of  the  '  (larden  of  Oardens '  was 
translated  by  Joseph  Spence  in  1752  and  the  spark  kindled  a  flame 
of  enthusiasm  throughout  Europe.  Here  is  one  of  the  innumer- 
able scenes  of  this  Panorama  of  Gardens,  taken  from  a  Chinese 
painting  of  the  same  period  in  the  National  Library  in  Paris.' 
The  Chinese  trace  back  the  origin  of  their  gardens  to  the  re- 
motest antiquity  (2600  B.C.).  Attiret  describes  the  artificial  hills 
20  to  60  feet  high  with  little  valleys  interspersed,  rivers  and  rivulets 
running  together  through  these  to  form  lakes  with  pleasure-houses 
to  the  number  of  200  on  their  banks  ;  the  rough  irregular  rock- 
work — twisting  and  winding  paths,  and  bridges  which  also  ser- 
pentised.  One  of  the  lakes  was  nearly  five  miles  round,  studded 
with  islands  and  rocks  and  with  infinitely  varied  banks. 

Sir  William  Chambers,  the  King's  Architect,  who  as  a  )outh 
had  lived  in  China,  wrote  an  enthusiastic  panegyric  of  their 
gardens,  and  on  being  appointed  Superintendent  of  the  Royal 
Gardens,  proceeded  to  lay  out  Kew  with  Pagodas  in  the  Chinese 
style.-  The  Chinese  way  of  following  Nature  was  a  peculiar 
one,  and  consisted  in  creating  mountains  where  they  did  not 
exist.  It  is  true  that  they  made  these  mountains  to  resemble 
'  natural '  ones  as  closely  as  possible,  but  they  were  none  the  less 
artificial  for  all  that, — then  they  came  to  the  conclusion  that  nature 
abhorred  a  straight  line,  so  all  their  paths  and  approaches  were 
made  to  serpentine.  Landscape  gardening,  as  understood  in  the 
18th  Century,  may  be  defined  as  the  curved  rersi/s  the  straight 
line.     As  William  Mason  versified  it : — 

To  melt  in  fluent  curves  \vhate"er  is  straight. 

Acute  or  parallel  .  .  . 

Fair  variety 

Lives  only  where  she  undulates  and  sports 

In  many  a  winding  train. 

'  See  also  Le   Rouges'  '  Kecueil   des   I'lans  des  plus  beaux  lardins,'  I'aris, 
1 787- 1 790. 
-  See  (7>i/e  pp.  183-186. 


■The  Garden  of  Gardens,'  Pekin,  begun  1723,  and  pillaged  in  i860. 


39> 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  393 

Hogarth's  '  Line  of  Beauty '  was  at  first  substituted  for  that 
of  the  Builders  and  Architects — later  on,  however,  the  curves 
became  less  manageable,  and  finally  zig-zagged  to  such  a  degree, 
that  a  witty  Frenchman,  following  a  hint  from  George  Mason's 
Essay,  suggested  that  in  order  to  design  an  English  or  Natural 
Garden  all  that  was  requisite  was  to  intoxicate  your  gardener  and 
follow  his  footsteps. 

To  supplement  the  Gospel  of  '  Nature,'  Samuel  Richardson, 
Jean  Jaques  Rousseau  ^  and  others  had  invented  the  Epistle  of 
Sentiment  or  Sensibility,  and  so  the  Landscape  Garden  besides 
writhing  and  meandering  in  imitation  of  so-called  Nature  had  also 
to  display  feeling,  emotion,  and  sympathy  with  the  varying  moods 
and  fluctuating  passions  of  Humanity. 

Lord  Kames  about  the  middle  of  the  i8th  Century  wrote  :  '  the 
most .  perfect  idea  of  a  garden  requires  the  several  parts  to  be 
arranged  so  as  to  inspire  all  the  different  emotions  that  can  be 
raised  by  gardening.' 

Of  this  Emotional  or  Sentimental  Garden — this  '  Jardin  Lar- 
moyant '  as  the  genre  may  be  called — the  poet  Shenstone  was  the 
most  successful  exponent  in  England,  by  his  creation  of  '  the 
Leasowes '  in  Shropshire ;  where  by  means  of  vines,  weeping 
willows,  urns,  trophies,  garlands,  columns,  mottos  and  inscriptions 
he  sought  to  '  raise  emotions '  appropiate  to  the  peculiar  character 
of  the  ground,  whether  grand,  savage,  melancholy,  horrid  or 
beautiful,  and  to  caress  and  cherish  the  corresponding  human 
sentiments.  For  all  Goldsmith's  good-natured  banter  and  John- 
son's sarcasm,  so  good  a  judge  as  George  Mason  thought  that  '  of 
all  the  amateur  and  professional  gardeners  of  the  day  the  most 
intimate  alliance  with  Nature  was  formed  by  Shenstone ' — and 
his  '  Unconnected  Thoughts  on  Gardening '  are  still  agreeable 
desultory  reading.- 

^  Rousseau  made  the  dawn  visible  to  people  who  had  never  risen  till  noon, 
the  landscape  to  eyes  that  had  only  rested  hitherto  upon  drawing-rooms  and 
palace.-,  the  natural  garden  to  men  who  had  only  walked  between  tonsured 
yews  and  rectilinear  flower-borders.' — Taine,  '  L'ancien  Regime.' 

"  See  ante  pp.  167-169. 


394 


THE  PRAISE  Oh   GARDENS 


Kent  was  practicall)'  the  originator  of  modern  park  scenery, 
the  landscape-painter's  garden  ;  he,  in  the  words  of  Walpole,  being 
'  the  first  to  leap  the  fence  and  show  that  the  whole  of  Nature 
is  a  garden ' ;  Bridgman  by  the  invention  of  the  '  Ha  Ha '  or 
sunk  fence  having  made  it  possible  to  unite  the  garden  with 
the  park  and  the  surrounding  country,  without  any  visible  break. 

Kent  began  life  as  a  coach-painter,  and  by  a  singular  revolution 
of  the  wheels  of  fortune  found  himself,  under  the  patronage 
of  the  Earl  of  Burlington,  an  architect  and  landscape-painter. 
However  monotonous  Kent's  '  Nature '  may  seem  to  us  now, 
and  nothing  is  proof  against  the  power  of  fashion,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  he  dictated  the  style  of  gardening  to  the  whole  of 
Europe  for  a  very  long  period. ' 

The  great  principles  on  which  Kent  worked,  writes  Walpole 
again,  were  '  perspective,  light  and  shade.  Groups  of  trees  broke 
too  uniform,  or  too  extensive  a  lawn — evergreens  and  woods  were 
opposed  to  the  glare  of  the  champaign.  .  .  .  Where  objects  were 
wanting  he  introduced  temples,  etc.,  but  he  especially  excelled 
in  the  management  of  water.  The  gentle  stream  was  taught  to 
serpentine  seemingly  at  its  pleasure.' 

He  followed  Nature  even  in  her  faults.  In  Kensington 
(iardens  he  planted  dead  trees  (a  genuine  instance  of  'laying 
out ')  but  was  soon  laughed  out  of  this  excess.  Here  is  a 
view  of  one  of  his  greatest  reputed  triumphs — Esher,  '  where 
Kent  and  Nature  vied  for  Pelham's  Love.' 

To  us  now  the  design,  with  the  house  almost  below  the 
level  of  the  ground,  seems  simple  to  baldness — but  we  must  look 
at  it  with  the  eyes  of  1730,  accustomed  to  the  artificialities  of 
the  Erench  manner,  and  there  is  little  doubt  that  the  extreme 
reaction  had  something  of  genius  in  it.  George  Mason  wrote  in 
panegyric  of  Kent :  '  All  that  has  since  been  done  by  the  most 
deservedly  admired  designers,  by  Southcote  (at  Wooburn  Farm). 
Hamilton  (at  Pain's  Hill),  Lyttelton  (at  Hagley),  Pitt  (at  Hayes) 
Shenstone  (at  the  Leasowes),  and  Morris  for  themselves ;  and  by 
Wright  (Kent's  successor)  for  others  ;  all  that  has  been  written  on 
'  See  ante  p.  140. 


2  C 


I 


-* 

i 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  397 

the  subject,  e\"en  the  Gardening  didactic  poem  and  the  Didactic 
Essay  on  the  Picturesque,  have  proceeded  from  Kent.' 

We  may  take  Blenheim  as  another  instance  of  Kent's  success. 
No  one  better  understood  how  to  mould  flat  ground  into  gentle 
unevennesses,  the  process  called  by  the  French,  '  vallonner,'  and 
a  good  instance  of  this  was  his  plantation  at  Chiswick  compared 
with  what  AVhately  considers  Bridgman's  '  phlegmatic  plantation ' 
in  the  same  garden. 

'  Capability '  Brown,  so  nicknamed  from  his  favourite  habit 
of  speaking  of  the  '  capabilities  '  of  the  ground  he  had  to  view, 
is  the  man  who,  perhaps  more  than  any  other,  converted  the 
older  gardens  of  England  into  parks.  His  method  has  been 
-shortly  summarised  thus: — '  Jlis  declivities  were  all  softened 
into  gentle  slopes  ;  plantations  belted  the  estate,  while  clumps 
and  single  trees  were  sprinkled  over  its  area.'  Brown  probably 
sat  for  the  satirical  portrait  of  '  Lay-Out '  in  Peacock's  '  Crotchet 
Castle,'  1  and  although  he  regarded  himself  as  holding  his  own 
with  Nature  on  her  own  ground,  he  was  undoubtedly  a  very 
strong  and  very  limited  mannerist.  He  was  so  overcome  at  the 
result  of  his  treatment  of  water  at  Blenheim,  that  he  was  heard 
murmuring  to  himself  in  gentle  reproach,  'Thames,  Thames, 
thou  wilt  never  forgive  me.' 

The  poet  Gray,  who  had  a  fine  instinct  for  beauty  in  Nature, 
hailed  the  dawn  of  Natural  Gardening  as  the  only  Art,  which 
the  English  could  properly  call  their  own.  The  literary  counter- 
parts of  the  school  are  George  Mason's  '  Essay  on  Design  in 
Gardening'  and  Horace  Walpole's  still  more  famous  Essay,- 
(which  has  often  been  quoted);  and,  chief  of  all,  Thomas  \\'hately's 
*  Observations  on  Modern  Gardening.'  This  according  to  Loudon 
is  '  the  grand  fundamental  and  standard  work  on  English  Garden- 
ing.' ^^'hately  claims  for  gardening  that  'it  has  ceased  to  be 
mechanical '  and  become  a  fine  art,  joining  utility  to  pleasure : 
no  longer  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  the  senses,  it  aspires  to 
entertain   the    imagination — high    ground    creates    a    feeling   of 

^  And  perhaps  for  Mr  Milestone  in  'Headlong  Hall.'     See  ante  pp.  252-3. 
^  See  ante  pp.  172-8  and  203-4. 


398  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

grandeur — small  valleys,  woods  overhanging  them  and  rivers  with 
steep  banks  form  a  romantic  disposition  :  grounds  gently  falling 
and  rising  with  fine  verdure  suggest  cheerfulness,  creating  little 
or  no  sentiment.  But  the  quotation  above  ^  gives  sufficient 
idea  of  Whately's  principles.  His  views  on  the  formal  garden 
are,  that  in  a  situation  of  a  dead  flat,  art  is  called  in  to  aid 
nature,  by  means  of  bosquets,  statues,  vases,  trees  cut  into  arches, 
cascades,  basins,  temples,  vistas  and  plantations,  mounts  and 
buildings  of  all  kinds  :  the  imagination  having  no  scope,  play 
must  be  given  to  the  senses  and  flowers  should  be  planted  in 
beds  and  parterres. 

After  the  peace  of  1762  the  English  style  of  gardening  passed 
into  France  and  the  ideas  of  the  new  school  were  perhaps  even 
more  successfully  applied  by  that  most  susceptible  nation.  It  has 
even  been  asserted  that  Dufresny  was  the  founder  of  the  school, 
and  certainly  the  Abbe  Delille's  poem  '  Les  Jardins '  both  for 
matter  and  manner  far  surpasses  its  English  rival  by  William 
Mason.-  But  practice  is  better  than  precept,  and  the  example  given 
by  the  Marquis  de  Girardin  ^  at  Ermenonville,  near  Paris,  laid  out 
under  his  own  eye  by  N.  Morel  and  the  landscape-painter  G.  F. 
Meyer,  exercised  a  wider  influence  than  his  description  of  it 
published  in  1777.  In  this  he  writes  very  modestly  of  the  dis- 
covery of  his  own  mistakes  as  the  result  of  experience  in  'com- 
posing '  the  landscape.  He  began  under  the  impression  that  all 
that  was  necessary  was  to  substitute  curves  for  straight  lines  and 
replace  a  rectangular  garden  by  a  winding  one.  He  thought  he 
could  produce  variety  in  a  small  space  by  'clapping  the  uni- 
verse between  walls ' ;  but  admits  that  he  confounded  simplicity 
with  letting  loose  Nature,  and  found  he  was  only  exchanging 
Nature  mutilated  and  circumscribed  for  Nature  vague  and 
confused. 

The  most  famous  features  of  Ermenonville  were  a  desert,  a 
lake,  a  cascade,  a  grotto,  and  the  Isle  of  Poplars  where  Rousseau 
was  first  buried,  having  died  in  the '  Philosopher's  Cottage. '   Besides 

1  See  ante  pp.  194-8.  -  See  ante  pp.  1S2-3  and  206-8. 

^  See  ante  pp.  202  and  209-10. 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  401 

advising  at  Ermenonville,  Morel  was  responsible  for  the  1  )uc 
d'Aumont's  Pare  at  Guiscard  and  a  seat  near  Chateau  Thierry. 
Watelet  was  the  creator  of  '  Moulin  Joli '  and  also  of  an  '  Essai 
sur  les  Jardins.' ' 

Other  historic  gardens  of  this  period  were  Morfontaine,  Mere- 
ville,  the  Park  of  the  Fermier-General  Laborde,  designed  by  Joseph 
^'ernet  and  Hubert  Robert ;  and  Maupertuis  (now  the  Elysee) 
belonging  to  the  Marquis  de  Montesquiou.-'  But  in  designing  some 
of  their  chief  Jardins  Anglais,  the  French  had  the  assistance  of 
Thomas  Blaikie,  a  Scotsman,  who  between  1776  and  the  Revolu- 
tion, laid  out  many  of  the  best  French  gardens,  including 
Maupertuis,  '  Bagatelle  '  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  for  the  Comte 
d'Artois  (in  1779)  and  alterations  made  in  the  Jardin  (now 
Pare)  Monceau(x)  for  the  Due  de  Chartres,  which  had  been  laid 
out  by  Carmontelle.  Here  is  one  view  by  the  latter  of  the 
Chinese  portion  of  the  garden,  which  went  through  many  vicissi- 
tudes, some  of  the  original  features  (for  instance,  the  pyramid 
from  the  '  Bois  des  Tombeaux ' )  still  surviving. 

One  more  name  brings  us  to  an  end  of  our  list  of  the  old 
school  of  landscape  gardeners,  that  of  Humphry  Repton,  the 
first  to  call  himself  professionally  by  the  title.  Repton's  method 
when  called  on  to  improve  a  place  was  to  prepare  a  description  and 
plan  of  it  in  its  existing  state  with  his  suggestions  for  its  alteration. 
By  an  ingenious  system  of  slides  over  his  illustrations  he  was  able 
to  show  a  plan  as  it  was,  and  as  he  proposed  it  should  be. 

'  Amenity '  Repton  has  very  distinctly  told  us  what  he  considers 
the  requisites  of  perfect  Landscape  Gardening :  viz.,  first  '  to  display 
the  natural  beauties  and  hide  the  natural  defects  of  every  situa- 
tion ;  secondly,  to  give  the  appearance  of  extent  and  freedom 
by  disguising  or  hiding  the  boundary ;  thirdly,  to  conceal  every 
interference  of  art,  however  expensive,  making  the  whole  appear 
the  production  of  nature  only  ;  and  fourthly,  to  remove  or  conceal 
all  objects  of  mere  convenience  or  comfort  if  incapable  of  being 
ornamental  or  of  becoming  proper  parts  of  the  general  scenery.'  ■' 

^  .See  an/c  pp.  178- 181.  -  See  ante  pp.  199,  208-12. 

"  See  aii.'r  pp.  218-20. 


402  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Just  as  the  Natural  or  'Landscape'  School  was  a  reaction 
against  the  extreme  formality  or  symmetry  which  had  preceded 
it,  so  the  Landscape  gardeners  in  their  turn  had  to  fight  against 
the  opposition  levelled  against  them  by  the  critical  group  of 
what  has  been  called  the  '  Picturesque '  writers,^  William  Gilpin, 
Uvedale  Price  and  Payne  Knight,  who  steered  a  sort  of  middle 
course  between  the  excesses  of  both  the  Formalists  and  Land- 
scapists.  To  them  perhaps  we  owe  it  that  there  is  a  single  old- 
fashioned  garden  remaining  unconverted  into  a  park.  Payne 
Knight  in  particular  was  a  virulent  opponent  of  Brown  and 
Repton  in  prose  and  verse,  and  was  satirically  severe  upon  the 
desolate  mansion  standing 

*  'Midst  shaven  lawns  that  far  around  it  creep, 
In  one  eternal  undulating  sweep 
And  scattered  clumps  that  nod  at  one  another 
Each  stiffly  waving  to  its  formal  brother,' 

and  he  yearns  for  the  moss-grown  terraces,  the  yew  and  the 
ancient  avenue  '  to  mark  the  flat  insipid  waving  plain.' 

So  the  prophets  of  '  Nature '  did  not  finally  escape  the  same 
charge  of  artificiality  and  uniformity  brought  against  their  more 
intentionally  '  Formal '  predecessors. 

Price,  while  strongly  advising  that  the  formal  garden  shall  be 
modified  rather  than  destroyed,  thought  that  the  principles  of 
Claude  shall  be  followed  as  a  safe  guide.  To  us,  now  looking 
back,  it  hardly  seems  that  a  placid  landscape  of  Claude  or  the 
more  savage  Salvator  Rosa  lend  themselves  to  imitation  or  re- 
production in  a  garden.  Windham,  in  a  letter  to  Repton,  asks 
very  pertinently  :  Does  the  pleasure  that  we  receive  from  the 
view  of  Parks  and  Gardens  result  from  their  affording  subjects 
that  would  appear  to  advantage  in  a  picture  ?  and  answers  :  That 
places  are  not  to  be  laid  out  with  *  a  view  to  their  appearance  in 
a  picture,  but  to  their  use  and  the  enjoyment  of  them  in  real  life.' 

At  this  point  we  will  break  off  our  sketch  of  English  gardens 

^  Besides  their  writings  quoted  in  the  text  (ante  pp.  212-217),  consult 
Gilpin's  various  '  Picturesque  Tours '  and  Payne  Knight's  '  The  Landscape  '  (a 
didactic  poem)  1794. 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  403 

to  take  a  rapid  glance  at  those  of  Germany,  Spain,  India  and 
Japan. 

Germany  has  been  in  the  main  a  follower  rather  than  a  leader 
in  garden  design ;  but  she  has  played  an  important  part  in 
spreading  knowledge  upon  the  theory,  and  in  producing  tasteful 
and  skilful  designers  in  the  modern  '  natural '  style.  Hirschfeld  ^ 
in  1770  deplores  the  Gallomania  which  pervaded  Germany, 
resulting  in  numerous  copies  of  Versailles,  Trianon  and  Marly ; 
and  later  in  imitations  of  the  English  taste.  Solomon  de  Caus's 
plan  of  the  Gardens  at  Heidelberg,  published  in  1620,"-  is  not 
very  different  from  those  of  other  formal  gardens  of  the  period. 
The  Episcopal  Gardens  at  Wiirzburg  were  long  reckoned  the 
-finest  in  Germany,  first  laid  out  in  servile  imitation  of  Versailles, 
and  then  treated  in  a  mixed  style  by  Mayer ;  ^  they  are  still 
deserving  attention  as  the  Public  Gardens  of  the  city.  Krafft 
considered  the  gardens  of  Schwetzingen  in  Baden  as  the  most 
splendid  in  Germany,  and  they  are  fully  described  by  Dr  Granville 
in  '  In  Autumn  near  the  Rhine.' 

Worlitz  and  its  gardens  near  Dessau,  engage  a  good  deal  of  the 
attention  of  the  Prince  de  Eigne  in  his  '  Coup  d'ceil  sur  les 
Jardins.'  The  same  writer  regards  Hirschfeld  (whose  book 
is  one  of  the  leading  authorities  on  the  subject)  as  '  touched  with 
Anglomania,'  and  Mayer,  like  many  other  German  designers, 
learnt  much  of  his  art  in  England. 

The  '  English  Garden '  at  Munich,  the  first  of  its  kind  in 
Germany,  was  laid  out  in  1789  under  the  direction  of  Count  Rum- 
ford  (the  founder  of  the  Royal  Institution),  by  Louis  Sckell,  who  in 
his  day  enjoyed  a  great  reputation,  and  also  designed  an  English 
Garden  at  Nymphenburg. 

A  few  other  gardens  famous  in  Germany  and  Austria  are  : — 

Schonbrunn,  laid  out  in  the  French  style,  by  the  architect  Fischer 
of  Erlach,  was  in  17 75-1 780  enlarged  by  Steckhoven,  a  Dutch 
artist.     Hadersdorf,  designed  by  the  celebrated  Marshal  Loudon  : 

^  Theorie  de  I'Art  des  Jardins.     Leipzig,  1770,  5  vols.  410. 

"  See  ante  p.  342. 

^  Pomona  Franconica,  1776,  by  John  Mayer, 


404  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

Sans-Souci  at  Potsdam,  in  tlie  mixed  style  of  Switzer,  chiefly 
designed  by  Manger,  a  German  architect,  and  Salzmann,  the  Royal 
Cardener,  (see  History  of  tlie  Gardens,  published  by  Nicolai) : 
and  the  (Jardens  at  Magdeburg,  laid  out  by  Linne,  landscape 
gardener,  in  1824.  Hamburg  has  always  been  a  garden-city  and 
maintained  its  reputation  in  this  respect  by  the  great  '  Garten- 
Ausstellung'  held  there  in  189  7  J 

'I'he  earliest  Spanish  gardens  are  the  creation  of  the  Moors,  and 
bear  the  Arabian  stamp  of  their  origin,  half  Asiatic,  half  African. 
Perhaps  their  design  has  the  strongest  affinity  to  the  gardens  of 
Persia,  with  their  shallow  waters  running  dow'n  the  centre  over 
coloured  tiles,  and  their  innumerable  fountains,  for  water  in  one 
form  or  another  is  the  predominant  feature. 

The  oldest  garden  is  at  Seville,  the  Alcazar,  the  Moorish  word 
for  '  Royal  Palace.'  These  gardens  were  laid  out  by  Charles  \'.,  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  upon  old  lines,  the  compartments  being 
arranged  in  patterns  of  Eagles  and  his  coat  of  arms  :  the  levels 
vary  and  the  plots  are  divided  by  orange-clad  walls. 

The  Genera/ife  at  Granada  (' Jenatu-L'arif,'  meaning  the 
Garden  of  the  Architect,  who  sold  the  site  to  the  Sultan  in 
1320),  has  been  called  'A  Villa  of  Waters.'  The  canal  of  the 
Darro  flows  under  evergreen  arches,  (the  subject  of  one  of 
Lord   Leighton's  early  pictures,)  an  open    colonnade  overlooks 

^  For  other  references  to  German  Gardens,  may  be  consulted  : 

Laurenbergi  (Petri),  Horticullura,  Lib  II.  Plans  of  gardens  by  Merian. 
Frankfori,  1631. 

Sal.  Kleiner,  Vera  et  accurata  delineatio  omnium  Templorum  .  .  in  urbe 
^'ienn:e,  1724-1737. 

Sal.  Kleiner,  Maisons  de  Plaisance  Imperiales,  33  plates. 

Nuremberg  Hesperides,  by  J.  C.  \'olckamer,  1700,  folio. 

'  Die  Garten  Kunst,'  von  J.  F.  Bloss,  28  copper  plates  and  plans  drawn 
by  Siegel,  and  described  by  Dr.  Ch.  Stieglitz,  3  vols.  8vo.     Leipzig,  1798. 

J.  C.  Krafft,  Plans  des  plus  beaux  Jardins  Pittoresques  de  France,  d'Angle- 
terre  et  d'Allemagne,  2  vols,  oblong  folio,  192  plates.     Paris,  1809-10. 

Dr  W.  Beattie,  'Journal  of  a  residence  in  CJermany,'  1830. 

Also  the  numerous  '  Garten- Kalendiir.' 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  405 

the  Alhambra  and  the  Sultana's  cypresses  date  back  to  the 
Moors.  ^ 

The  gardens  of  the  Escurial  and  Ildefonso  in  Madrid  and  of 
Aranjuez  near  Toledo,  were  laid  out  under  Philip  IV.  at  the 
beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  park  of  Aranjuez 
(from  Ara  Jovis)  is  several  leagues  in  circumference,  intersected 
by  wide  alleys,  three  or  four  miles  long,  framed  of  double  rows  of 
elms,  with  a  canal  running  between  them,  and  the  Tagus  dividing 
it.  ^'elasquez  has  painted  these  gardens  and  their  fountains,  which 
the  French  under  Soult  converted  into  a  wilderness,  and  the  Duke 
of  A\'ellington  enjoined  upon  General  Hill  to  protect. - 

■  The  Gardens  of  Hindostan  are  of  much  the  same  general  cliar- 
acter  as  those  of  Persia  :  famous  especially  were  those  of  the 
Mogol  emperors  at  Delhi  and  Bangalore  :  the  gardens  of  Kalimar 
at  Delhi  were  created  at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  centur)-, 
at  the  cost  of  a  million  pounds.  At  Agra  were  the  Imperial  Park 
(Rom-Bagh) ;  the  tomb  of  Akbar,  and  the  Taj-Mahal,  erected 
by  the  Emperor  Shah  Jehan  to  his  favourite  wife.  At  Ahmadah 
was  Ak bar's  '  Garden  of  Conquests,'  where  he  collected  every  kind 
of  fruit-tree  cultivated  in  his  empire  :  the  Kajah-Mahal  of  Shah- 
Soudjah  was  on  the  Ganges;  he  was  conquered  in  1659  by  his 
brother  Aurungzeb,  the  last  of  the  great  Mogols,  who  laid  out  the 
Park  of  Farrah-Bagh,  near  Ahmehnagora,  at  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  to  affirm  his  conquest  of  the  Deccan.  These  and 
man)-  other  Indian  gardens  are  described  by  Bishop  Heber  in  his 
'  Narrative  of  a  Journey  through  India.'  Other  remarkable 
gardens  of  India  are  the  Nashim-Bagh  (Garden  of  Breezes), 
Nishat-Bagh  (Garden  of  DeHght),  and  Shalamar-Bagh  (Garden  of 

'  See  Illustration  by  Mr  G.  Elgooil,  ante  p.  86. 

-  .Some  books  of  reference  upon  Spanish  gardens  are  : 

Galiriel  Alonso  de  Herrera,  'Libro  de  Agricultura,'  folio,  Toledo,  1546. 

'  Theatrum  Hispanic,'  Amsterdam,  1660. 

Ford's  '  Handbook  of  Spain'  (first  edition  . 

Th.  Gautier's  'Voyage  en  Espagne.' 

La  Gasca,  '  Beautes  Naturelles  de  I'Espagne. 

Inglis's  'Spain  in  1830.' 


4o6 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


the  King)  at  Cashmere ;  the  Royal  Gardens  of  Shah  Leemar 
near  Lahore,  the  Garden  of  Madura  at  Mysore,  and  the  Rose 
Fields  of  Ghazepoor,  near  Allahabad.^ 

The  Japanese  derived  their  landscape  garden  originally  from 
the  Chinese,  but  besides  imitating  Nature,  they  endeavour  to  im- 
part to  their  designs  a  symbolical  character,  expressing  an  abstract 
idea  or  sentiment  such  as  '  Retirement,' '  Meditation  '  or  '  Fidelity.' 


S*'!. 


Japanese  Mountain  Garden  in  the  '  Shin '  or  '  Punished  Style.' 

According  to  Mr  Conder,^  gardening  in  Japan  was  first  cultivated 
as  an  art  in  the  regency  of  Ashikaga  Shogun  Yoshimasha  (between 
1449  and  1472)  in  connection  with  tea-drinking  ceremonies.     As 

^  See  an/e  pp.  40-42. 

-  For  the  following  remarks  I  am  mainly  indebted  to  Mr  Josiah  Conder's 
paper  on  'The  Art  of  Landscape  Gardening  in  Japan,'  at  present  only  acces- 
sible in  the  'Transactions  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan,'  but  I  hope  it  may 
before  long  be  published  independently. 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  407 

in  the  Chinese  gardens,  hills  are  a  fundamental  feature,  but  the 
Chinese  gardens  abound  more  in  small  kiosks  and  balustraded 
galleries,  and  rockeries  honeycombed  with  caves  and  grottoes — 
and  the  Chinese  also  employ  more  flowering  plants  than  the 
Japanese. 

Historical  examples  of  old  Japanese  gardens  are  those  of 
Ginkakinzi  (silver  Pavilion)  in  Kyoto,  and  also  in  old  conventual 
establishments,  which  have  served  as  models  for  later  artists. 

As  described  in  their  books  the  art  of  laying  out  gardens  is  very 
abstruse,  fanciful  and  superstitious  ;  it  is  made  highly  complicated 
so  as  to  be  purposely  puzzling  to  the  uninitiated. 

There  are  three  styles:  i.  Shin,  i.e.  Finished  Style;  2.  Gio,  i.e. 
Intermediate  Style ;  3.  Sn,  i.e.  Free  or  Bold  Style.  The  mixture 
of  conflicting  styles  is  carefully  avoided,  and  the  character  of  the 
proprietor  and  the  predominating  sentiment  either  of  the  natural 
scene  or  of  an  abstraction,  such  as  Happiness,  is  considered  in 
the  composition. 

One  of  the  chief  methods  (the  '  Distance-lowering ')  of  laying 
out,  was  to  plant  large  trees  in  the  foreground  and  lower  ones  to 
the  distance,  with  a  view  of  adding  to  the  perspective ;  further 
hills  were  made  lower  than  the  nearer  ones  and  the  distant  water 
higher.  Another  school  was  in  favour  of  '  Distance -raising.' 
Then  there  is  the  Garden  of  Artificial  Hills,  and  space  is  suggested 
by  blank  spaces  and  obliterations.  In  the  '  Shin  '  style  are  five 
principal  hills  of  different  character.  Waterfalls  are  indispensable, 
in  imitation  of  the  famous  Cascade  in  Chiang-So.  Of  Lakes  their 
ideal  is  that  called  Seiko,  famous  for  its  Lotuses.  Four  kinds  of 
islands  are  introduced  into  water  scenery — the  Elysian  Isle,  the 
Windswept  Isle,  the  Master's  Isle  and  the  Guest's  Isle. 

The  selection  and  arrangement  of  stones  has  been  said  to 
constitute  the  skeleton  of  the  garden.  Every  stone  is  symbolic, 
and  has  a  name  according  to  its  situation  ;  there  are  whole  path- 
ways of  stepping-stones  and  groups  of  stones  round  lanterns  and 
water-basins. 

Sand  carefully  raked,  sometimes  in  patterns,  is  an  important 
feature,  especially  in  the  smaller  gardens.     The  one  here  given 


4o8 


THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 


of  an  Inn  (jarden  at  Nara,  is  chiefly  of  sand,  witli  large  stones 
out  of  which  grow  shrubs  scattered  about ;  and  l)ronze  cranes. 
To  our  Western  ideas  there  is  a  certain  poverty  and  bareness 
about  these  lesser  gardens.  Trees  are  planted  so  as  to  show- 
contrasts,  and  if  clipped  at  all,  it  is  done  consistently  with  their 
general  character  and  growth,  as  for  instance  the  native  pine 
{matsie).  There  are  very  strict  rules  as  to  the  placing  of  trees, 
and  names  (such  as  '  view-perfecting  tree,'  '  tree  of  solitude ') 
are  given  them  according  to  their  position.  The  flower-beds  are 
usually  in    a    flat   area,  opposite  the  ladies'  apartments.     .Stone 


I 


lanterns  and  water-basins  of  various  shapes  are  placed  in  appro- 
priate positions.  The  garden  walls  are  of  tiles  and  mud  alter- 
nately, and  fences  of  split  bamboos  are  largely  used.^ 

^  Besides  Mr  Conder's  invaluable  Essay  and  Kaemp.er's  '  History  of  Japan 
(see  ante  pp.  128-9),  the  following  may  be  consulted  on  Japanese  Gardens  :  — 
MrF.  T.  Piggott's  'TheGardenof  Japan,' .Mr  Chamberlain's  'Things  Japanese,' 
Mr  Charles  Holme's  Essay  in  T/ie  S/udio,  July  1899,  '  Notes  on  Japan  '  by  Mr 
Alfred  Parsons,  A.R.A.,  and  Murray's  '  Handbook  to  Japan.' 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  409 

To  return  to  our  own  country.  In  the  nineteenth  century, 
no  one  better  than  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  held  the  just  balance 
between  the  two  rival  schools,  and  his  '  Essay  on  Landscape 
Gardening,'  written  in  1828,  might  almost  be  said  to  embody  the 
prevailing  views  of  to-day  upon  the  subject.  Its  keynote  is  a  wise 
eclecticism,  the  choice  of  the  best  that  has  been  done  in  design- 
ing, laying  out,  '  composing '  or  building  gardens  in  every  age, 
adapted  to  the  particular  site,  and  its  natural  and  architectural 
surroundings. 

Scott's  Essay  seems  the  neutral  ground  upon  which  those 
desperate  rivals,  the  Architects  and  Landscape  Gardeners  —  the 
partizans  of  the  Formal  and  of  the  Natural  Garden — may  meet 
half-way.  For  the  former  there  is  the  comfort  of  the  famous  sen- 
tence, 'Nothing  is  more  completely  the  child  of  art  than  a 
garden,'  and  the  longer  passage  on  the  architectural  garden  : — 
'The  result  was  in  the  highest  degree  artificial,  but  it  was  a 
sight  beautiful  in  itself — a  triumph  of  human  art  over  the  elements, 
and  connected  as  these  ornamented  gardens  were  with  splendid 
mansions,  in  the  same  character,  there  was  a  syumietr)-  and  har- 
mony betwixt  the  baronial  palace  itself,  and  these  its  natural 
appendages,  which  recommended  them  to  the  judgment  as  well 
as  to  the  eye,' — and  he  can  justify  even  '  the  magnificent  cascades  ' 
of  Versailles.  He  shows  the  difference  between  the  Italian  and 
Dutch  taste  with  its  'paltry  imitations.'  'A  stone  hewn  into  a 
gracefully  ornamented  vase  or  urn  has  a  value  which  it  did  not 
before  possess,  a  yew  hedge  clipped  into  a  fortification  is  only 
defaced.  The  one  is  a  production  of  Art,  the  other  a  distortion 
of  Nature.'  Yet  even  so,  he  thinks  that  existing  gardens  in  the 
Dutch  taste  '  would  be  much  better  subjects  for  our  modification 
than  for  absolute  destruction.'  Then  he  shows  how  excellent 
was  the  ruling  principle  of  Kent's  innovation,  but  that  Kent 
failed  in  execution  from  his  limited  view  of  Nature,  through 
being 'tame  and  cold  in  spirit,' and  unfamiliar  with  her  grander 
scenes ;  thus  '  his  meagre  and  unvaried  slopes  were  deprived 
of  all  pretension  to  a  natural  appearance';  and  'his  style  is 
not  simplicity  but  affectation  labouring  to  seem  simple.'     Scott 


4IO  THE  PRAISE  OF  GARDENS 

looks  forward  to  the  day  when  the  profession  of  '  landscape 
gardener,'  which  he  thinks  rather  unhappily  named,  (and  it  is 
even  less  appropriate  now  than  seventy  years  ago),  would  be  '  more 
closely  united  with  the  fine  arts,'  and  believes  that  'a  certain 
number  of  real  landscapes,  executed  by  men  adequate  to  set  the 
example  of  a  new  school,  which  shall  reject  the  tame  and  pedantic 
rules  of  Kent  and  Brown,  without  affecting  the  grotesque  or 
fantastic — who  shall  bring  back  more  ornament  into  the  garden, 
and  introduce  a  bolder,  wilder,  and  more  natural  character  into 
the  park,  would  awaken  a  general  spirit  of  emulation.'  Are  there 
not  such  men  and  women  at  work  in  the  garden  now  on  these 
lines — painting  pictures  with  Nature's  own  canvas,  forms  and 
colours?  But  the  time  has,  happily,  not  yet  come  to  include 
them  in  an  historical  sketch. 


Antoine  Watteau's  'Bosquet  de  Bacchus'  is  an  instance  of 
a  garden  that  descends  lineally  from  no  school  and  cannot  be 
called  representative  of  any  style,  except  that  of  Watteau  himself — 
'  le  style  c'est  I'homme  meme.' 

Architecture,  aided  by  sculpture,  has  been  taken  as  the  type  of 
one  kind  of  garden  design.  Painting  of  another ;  may  we  not  say 
of  Watteau  that  he  represents  the  Music  of  gardens?  And  as 
we  see  him,  in  his  own  portrait,  palette  in  hand,  standing  behind 
his  friend.  Monsieur  de  Julienne,  who  holds  his  violoncello 
between  his  knees,  with  music-book  upon  the  turf;  and  in 
the  background  a  statue  canopied  by  that  '  tree-architecture,  of 
which  those  moss-grown  balustrades,  terraces,  statues,  fountains 
are  really  accessories ' ;  or  as  we  gaze  upon  the  groups  in  his 
'  Fetes  Galantes '  '  half  in  masquerade  playing  the  drawing- 
room  or  garden  comedy  of  life,'  ^  and  seem  to  hear  the  music  of 
lutes  and  viols,  the  murmur  of  falling  waters  and  waving  boughs, 
we  feel  that  here  at  last  we  have  realised  the  ideal  garden,  '  the 
chosen  landscape,'  the  perfect   fusion  of  Art  with   Nature,  that 

^  Walter  I'ater,  '  A  Prince  of  Court  Painters'  (Imaginary  Portraits). 


u 


m 


2   D 


I 


I 


HISTORICAL  EPILOGUE  413 

blending  and  inter-penetration  of  all  the  Arts,  of  which  Music  is 
the  archtype  and  symbol  to  the  soul : 

Votre  ame  est  un  paysage  choisi 

Que  vont  charmant  masques  et  bergamasques 

Jouant  du  luth,  et  dansant,  et  quasi 

Tristes  sous  leurs  degiiisements  fantasques. 

Et  leur  chanson  se  mele  au  clair  de  lune, 

Au  calme  clair  de  lune  triste  et  beau 

Qui  fait  rever  les  oiseaux  dans  les  arbres 

Et  sangloter  d'extase  les  jets  d'eau 

Les  grands  jets  d'eau  sveltes  parmi  les  marbres. 


FINIS. 


INDEX 


{The  figures  printed  hi  the  darker  type  are  the  references  to  the  quotations  from 

the  authors) 


Addison,  134,  141,  183,  384,  389 

Adinaphur,  garden  at,  40 

Adonis,  gardens  of,  6 

^.lian,  86 

Agra,  gardens  at,  405 

Ahmadah  Gardens,  405 

Albanum,  20 

Albury,  113 

Alhyterio,  45 

Alcazar,  404 

Alcibiades,  gardens  of,  18 

Alcinous,  garden  of,  22,  173,  242 

Alcott,  A.  B.,  260 

Aldobrandini,  villa,  161 

Alhambra,  405 

Alison,  A.,  194,  221 

Althorpe,  113 

Amherst,  Hon.  A.,  327,  331 

Amiel,  276 

Androuet   du   Cerceau,  45,   51,    175, 

332,  357 
Anet,  Chateau  d',  51,  61 
Annunzio,  G.  d',  309 
Apothecaries^  garden  at  Chelsea,  352 
Aranjuez,  286,  405 
'  Arcadia,'  Sidney's,  65 
Aristophanes,  320 
Aristotle,  77,  8 
Arnold,  T.,  257 
Arnold,  M.,  263;?,  291 
Ars  Topiaria,  16,  57;  246 
Athens,  6,  13 
Attiret,  Pere,  156,  390 
Audiat,  51 
Audley  End,  112 
Aulus  Vettius,  Garden  of,  322 
Austen,  R.,  373 
Austin,  Alfred,  301 
Avignon,  Petrarch's  Garden  near,  32 


Babylon,   Hanging  Gardens  of,   12, 

86,  94,  173,  318 
Bacon,  F.,  67,  141,  241,  251,  342,  352 
Badminton,  gardens  at,  389 
Bagehot,  W.,  317 
Bagh-e-Kilan,  41 
Bagh-e  Vafa,  41 

Baianum,  Seneca's  Villa  at,  20,  321 
Baiae,  321 

Bangalore  Gardens,  405 
Barberini  Gardens,  321 
Baudelaire,  275 
Beaugensier,  90 
'  Beaumont,  Sir  H.,'  156 
Beaumont,  the  gardener,  378 
Beauvais,  Vincent  de,  22 
Beckford,  W.,  223 
Bedford,  Countess  of,  120 
Beloeil  Gardens,  198-9 
Belvedere  Gardens,  86 
Bentinck's  Dutch  garden,  223 
Berceaux,  52,  342 
Berlin,  botanical  garden  at,  232 
Berkeley  House,  113 
Bilton,  Addison's  garden  at,  389 
Biran,  Maine  de,  230 
Biron,  Marecbal  de,  175 
Blaikie,  the  gardener,  211,  401 
Blenheim,  169,  202,  267,  397 
Blith,  Walter,  115 
Blois,  gardens  at,  332 
Blomfield,  R.,  303,  389 
Boboli  Gardens,  102,  224,  225 
Boccaccio,  35,  287,  295 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  45,  320,  401 
Bolingbroke,  139 
Bordeaux,  gardens  at,  236 
Botanical  Gardens,  38,  45,  57,  60,  62, 

II3>  351 « 


2  E 


4i6 


INDEX 


Bouchardon,  363 
Boulingrins,  see  Bowling  Greens 
Boutin,  199 

Bowling  Greens,  as  part  of  a  garden, 
80,  176 

,,         at  Cliristchurch,  282 

,,         at  Audley  End,  112 

,,  at  Marlboro',  291 

,,         at  Piddleton,  176 

,,         at  Wanstead,  131 
Boyceau,  gardener,  321,  363 
Boyle,  Hon.  Mrs,  310 
Box  Hill,  112 
Bradley  R. ,  190 
Bramante,  338 
Branch  Work,  126 
Bridgman,  140,  176,  385,  394,  397 
Bright,  H.  A.,  298 
Brithnod,  328 
Broek,  gardens  at,  379 
Brompton  Park  Nursery,  125 
Brooke,  Lady,  1 1 1 
Brown,  L.,  169,   171  n,  211,  218,252, 

281,  383,  397 
Browne,  Sir  T.,  94,  114,  237,  373 
Brunetto  Latini,  33 
Brussels,  gardens  at,  103 
Bunyan,  1 18 
Burgh,  W.,  141,  182 
Burleigh,  Lord,  62,  73,  75,  342,  346 
Burlington,  Lord,  140,  144,  384,  394 
Burton,  Robert,  33,  85 
Busch,  gardener,  201 
Byron,  253,  363 

Cambridge,  Colleges,  389  n 

Campbell,  Lord,  247 

Cannons,  132 

Cantelow,  Lord,  86 

'Capability  Brown,'   169,   \']\n,  211, 

218,  252,  281,  383,  397 
Carlton  House,  141  «,  197 
Carmontelle,  401 
Cascade  in  Chiang- So,  407 
Casello,  garden  at,  54 
Cashiobury,  113 
Casinum,  Varros'  Villa  at,  II 
Cato,  9,  13,  19,  53,  96,  114,  320 
Caus,  Isaac  de,  342 
Caus,  Solomon  de,  342,  403 
Cavendish,  337 


Celsus,  19 

Cerceau,  A.  du,  45,  51,  175,  332,  357 

Cesio,  gardens  of,  55 

Chabas,  I 

Chambers,  Sir  W.,  183,  211,  390 

Chantilly,  102,  208 

Chardin,  Sir  J.,  126,  319 

Charleton,  Dr  W.,  8 

Chateau — 

d'Anet,  51,  61 
d'Ecouen,  45 
de  la  Chenaie,  271 
de  Meudon,  102 
de  Madrid,  45 
de  Nesle,  45 
Thierry,  401 
Chatham,  Earl  of,  157 
Chatsworth,  389 
Chaucer,  328,  331 
Chaulnes,  45 

Chelsea  Gardens,  145,  352  n 
Chenaie  Gardens,  271 
Chenonceux,  45 
Chesterfield,  Lord,  144,  148 
Chinese  Gardens,  127,   156,  171,  176, 
184,  196,  204,  211,  254,  383,  390, 
401 
Chiswick,  140,  196,  397 
Chou-tun-I,  28 
Cicero,  10,  247,  321 
Cimon,  18,  320 
Citro7iiere,  105 
Clagny,  1 17 
Clair vaux,  32 
Claremont,  140,  202 
Clusius,  346 
Cobbett,  W.,  228 
Cobham  Gardens,  88 

,,         Lord,  144,  169,  182,  383 
Coesalpinus,  58 
Colbert,  102 
Collins,  M.,  279 
Cologne,  physic  garden  at,  346 
Colonna  Fra,  46 
Columella,  19,  77,  114,  191 
Comenius,  T.  A.,  87 
Conde,  102,  209 
ConsLantine  Arch,  105 
Corbie,  gardens  of,  327 
Cotton,  Charles,  54 
Cowley,  A.,  lOO,  251,  280 


I 


INDEX 


417 


Cowper,  W.,  191 
Cradle-walk,  \li 
Crispin  de  Pass,  346 
Croome  Gardens,  169 
Curzon,  Lord,  127,  319 
Cyrus's  garden,  95 
Czarsokojeselo,  201 

Dallaway,  218 

Damascus,  garden  of,  274 

Darwin,  E.,  191 

Davy,  Sir  H.,  247 

D'Annunzio,  309 

De  Amicis,  377 

De  Brosscs,  159,  318,  321 « 

Decker,  131 

De  la  Quintinye,  61,  115,  166 

De  Nesle,  Chateau,  45 

DeSerres,  43,  44,  45>  S^,  61,  357 

De  Vries,  58,  346 

D'Ecouen,  Chateau,  45 

Defoe,  131,  380 

Delhi,  Gardens  at,  405 

Delille,  L'Abbe,  197,  2o6,  247,  398 

D'Este,  Villa,  55,  312,  338 

Deyverdun's  Gardens,  204 

Dials,  74,  79,  151,  230,  239,  240 

Diderot,  166 

"  Didymus  Mountaine,"  77 

Disraeli,  I.,  91  n,  231 

Disraeli,  B.,  265 

Dodonaeus,  346 

Doria  Pamphili,  Gardens,  341 

D'Orias,  Prince,  no 

Douglas,  Gawen,  39 

Drayton,  M.    75 

Du  Cerceau,  45,  51,  175,  332,  357 

Du  Perac,  61 

Dufresny,  C,  127,  398 

Durdans,  132 

Dusseldorf,  Court  Garden  of,  259 

Dutch  Gardens,  36,  197,  224,  374 

Dutch  Garden,  books  on,  383 

Eden,  garden  of,  203,  316 

Egyptian  Gardens,  i 

Elizabethan  Gardens,  62,  342 

Elyot,  19 

'  Enoch's  Walk,'  92 

Epicurus,  gardens  of,  4,  8,  13,  243,  320 

Erasmus,  36,  42 


Ermenonville,  178,  199,  202,  209,  398 

Escurial  Gardens,  86,  405 

Essex,  Earl  of,  113 

Esher,  196,  394 

Estienne,  43,  357 

Evelyn,  John,    14  w,  46,  91  «,   loi  «, 

I03>   115)   116,   124,  228,  232,  251, 

257,  370 

Falconer,  Dr,  318 

Farelli,  1 12 

Farnese  Gardens,  55 

Farrah  Bagh,  405 

Farnham  Castle,  228 

Ferme  Orn^e,  140 

Ferrara  Schottus,  86 

Fiacre,  St,  115 

Fischer,  of  Erlach,  403 

Fisherwick,  169 

Fitzherbarde,  42 

Flourzshhigs,  126 

Fontainbleau  Gardens,  60,  61,  86,  102, 
107,  256,  324,  357 

Foss^ 'm  garden,  176 

Foster,  Mrs  J.  F.,  304 

Fouquet,  N.,  102 

Foiintams  at  Aranjuez,  287 
,,         at  Haff,  103 
,,         at  Hampton  Court,  1 12 
,,  Laocoon,  105 

,,         at  Nonsuch,  74 
,,  at  Pagliavam,  226 

,,         at  Versailles,  363 
,,         in  Greek  Gardens,  4 
,,  in    Luxembourg     Gardens, 

108 
,,         in  Temple  Gardens,  239. 

French  Garden,  books  on,  369  n 

Fulham,  102  . 

Fuller,  T.,  98 

Gaillon,  Chateau,  51,  332 

'  Garden  of  Love,'  331 

'  Garden  of  Gardens '  (Chinese),  390 

'  Gardener's  Lodge,'  115 

Gardens,  size,    11,    69,    88,   98,    107, 

.145,  345 
,,  situation  of,  196 

Garth,  Samuel,  196,  203 
Gassendi,  90,  91  n 
Gautier,  T.,  272,  363,  364 
Genoa,  no 


4i8 


INDEX 


Gerard,  Lord,  garden  of,  373 
Gerarde,  62,  98,  231,  346 
German  Gardens,  230,  403 

,,  books  on,  403 

Gestatio,  in  Pliny's  Garden,  15 
Ghazepoor  Gardens,  406 
Gibbon,  204 

Gilbert,  A.,  Gardener,  87 
Giles,  Herbert,  24,  281 
Gilpin,  W.,  402 
Ginkakinzi  Gardens,  407 
Girardin,  Marquisde,  199,202, 209,  398 
Girardon,  363 
Goethe,  213 
Goldsmith,  186 
Goncourt,  Ed.  de,  277 
Googe,  B.,  52 
Goujon,  Jean,  46 
Granada,  gardens  at,  86,  313,  404 
Gray,  T.,  171,  397 
Gray's  Inn  Gardens,  241 
Greek  Garden,  i,  320 
Grilli,  45      ^ 
Grotto  at  Chateau  d'Ecouen,  45 

,,     at  Errnenonville,  398 

,,     at  Haff,  103 

,,     at  Rueil,  106 

,,     at  Tuileries,  45 

,,     at  Twickenham,  332 

,,     at  Villa  Borghese,  III 

,,     at  Wotton,  373 

,,     of  Calypso,  332 

,,     of  Pausilippo,  II3« 
Guerin,  M.  de,  271 
Guiscard,  park  at,  401 

Hacknes,  81 

Hackney,  gardens  at,  iii 

Hadersdorf,  403 

Hagley,  204,  394 

Hague,  103 

Hall,  Bishop,  85 

?Iall  Barn,  197 

Hallam,  H.,  245 

Ham,  113 

Hamburg,  404 

Hamilton,  C.,  140,  394 

Hampton   Court,    74,    88,    112,    169, 

331,  332,  337,  378 
Hanging  Gardens  of  Babylon,  12,  89, 
94,  173.  318 


Harrison,  W.,  88 
Hartlib,  S.,  102,  115 

Hartrigge,  247 

Hatfield  Gardens,  342 

Hawthorne,  N.,  266 

Hayes  Place,  157,  394 

Hayley,  157,  197 

Heber,  Bishop,  405 

Hebrew  Gardens,  i 

Heidelberg,  342,  403 

Heine,  H.,  259 

Helps,  Sir  A,  286 

Hentzner,  P.,  73,  75,  176,  332,  342 

Herbals,  62,  98,  346,  351 

Herbert,  George,  89 

Herculaneum,  gardens  at,  173,  321 

Heresbach,  C,  52 

Herodotus,  318 

Hesperides,  gardens  of,  64,  94,  223,  317 

Hill,  T.,  77 

Hinton,  St  George,  123 

Hirschfeld,  402 

Hodges,  Anthony,  27 

Hoereditim,  13 

Holborn  Physic  Garden,  351 

Holland  House,  342 

Holland,  Philemon,  14 

Holmes,  O,  W.,  270 

Home,  Henry,  154 

Homer,  3,  22 

Home,  226 

Hort-yard,  331  n 

"Horti  Pensiles,"  318 

Houghton,  garden  at,  172 

Houslaerdyk,  379 

Howell,  James,  92 

Huet,  122,  317 

Hugo,  Victor,  262,  273 

Humboldt,  A.  von,  6,  28,  232 

Hunt,  Leigh,  249,  298 

Hyde  Park,  104 

IcoLMKiLL,  Abbey  of,  327 
Ildefonso  Gardens,  405 
Indian  Gardens,  405 
Irving,  Washington,  248 
Isola  Bella,  159,  311,  318 
Italian  Gardens,  338 

,,  books  on,  341 

James  I.  of  Scotland,  331 


INDEX 


419 


James,  T.,  280 

Japanese  Gardens,  94,  128,  406-8 

,,  books  on,  408  11 

Jardine  Royale  of  Paris,  104 
far  din  Anglais,  312,  401,  403 

,,       Larmoyant,  393 
Jerome,  St,  23 
Jerrold,  D.,  264 
Johnson,  Samuel,  158 
Johnson,  G.  W.,  328  n,  352  n,  389 
Josephus,  95  n 
Joubert,  J.,  220,  259  « 
Julius,  Pope,  gardens  of,  55 
Juvenal,  20 

Kaempfer,  128 

Kajah-Mahal  Gardens,  405 

Kames,  Lord,  154,  208,  393 

Kant,  I.,  191 

Karnak,  3,  318 

Karr,  A.,  268 

Kelso,  gardens  at,  282 

Kenilworth  Castle,  83 

Kensington  Gardens,  394 

Kent,    William,    140,    141,    155,    170, 

177,  183,  195,  196,  378,  383,  394 
Kew  Gardens,  228,  346  «,  390 
Kinglake,  A.,  274 
Kip,  176 

Knebvvorth,  263  « 
Knight,  R.  P.,  214,  217,  402 
Knotted  Beds,  337 
Krafft,  403 

Laborde,  199 

Labyrinth,  50,  75,  76,  '^Q,  1 1 7,  234 

,,  at  Chantilly,  209 

,,  at  Hampton  Court,  378 

,,  at  Kensington,  227 

,,  at  Theobalds,  342 

,,  at  TrinityCollege,  Oxford, 

389 
,,  at  Versailles,  364 

Lahore,  406 
Lamartine,  255 
Lamb,  Charles,  238 
Langley,  Batty,  148,  389 
Landor,  W.  S.,  220,  242 
Laneham,  R.,  82 

Landscape  Gardens,  requisites  of,  219 
origin  of,  167,  177,  315 


Landscape  G'ar(fi?wj,debasedformof,297 

Laocoon,  fountain,  105 

Latini,  Brunetto,  33 

Laurentine,  villa  of  Pliny,  15,  321 

Law,  Ernest,  337,  378  n 

Lawson,  W.,  57,  78,  303 

Le  Notre,  61,  io2,  116,  117,  122,  127, 

145,  166,  199,  262,  364,  378 
Leasowes,  188,  203,  393 
Lebanon,  3 
'  Lee,  Vernon,'  295 
Leland,  J.,  57 
L'Estrange,  R.,  38 
Levens,  gardens  at,  378 
Lewes  on  Goethe's  Garden,  213 
Liancourt,  Comte  de,  106 
Liebault,  43,  45,  357 
Lientschen,  28 
Liger,  125 

Ligne,  Prince  de,  198,  403 
Linne,  gardener,  404 
Linnaeus,  145 
Lipsius,  Justus,  20 
Livy,  320 
Long  Melford,  92 
Longleat,  389 

London,  George,l25,i33, 135,  370,380 
Longus,  25 
Loo,  374,  377 
Loudon,  20,  194,  211,  218,  233,  321 «, 

374 
Loudon,  Marshal,  403 
Low  Laxton,  151 
Lucian,  21 
Lucullus,  18,  225 
Ludlam's  Hole,  229 
Ludovisi  Gardens,  160,  321,  341,  370 
Luther,  39 

Luxemburg  Gardens,  107,  117 
Lydgate,  328 
Lyly,  J.,  64 
Lyte,  346 
Lyttelton,  394 
Lytton,  Buhver,  263 

Machiavelli,  35 

Madura,  gardens  at,  406 

Magdeburg  gardens,  404 

Mago,  19 

Magdalen  College,  Oxford,  373 

Malmesbury,  W.  of,  28 


420 


INDEX 


Mandelslo,  126 

Manger,  404 

Mansfield,  Lord,  202 

Marie  de  Medici's  gardens,  104,  107 

Marius,  garden  of,  52 

Markham,  G.,  45,  82,  1 15,  303 

Marlborough,  Duke  of,  202 

Marlborough  College,  291 

Marlia,  245 

Marly  Gardens,  139,  161,  403 

Marot,  377 

Martial,  321 

Marvell,  A.,  240,  373 

Maschal,  L.,  80 

Mason,  G.,  194,  202,  393,  394,  397 

Mason,  W.,  182,  390,  398 

Matius,  16 

Maundeville,  33 

Maupertuis,  211,  401 

Mayer,  403 

Maxwell,  Sir  W.  S.,  286 

Maze,  50,  75,  76,  80,  117,  234 

,,      at  Chantilly,  209 

,,      at  Hampton  Court,  378 

,,      at  Kensington,  227 

,,      at  Theobalds,  342 

,,      at  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  389 

,,      at  Versailles,  364 
Meager,  L.,  119 
Medici  Gardens,  55,  226,  341 
Melmoth's  Pliny,  18 
Mereville,  gardens  at,  199,  401 
Meudon,  Chateau  de,  102 
Meyer,  202 
Meynell,  A.,  296 
Mickleham,  112 
Mignaux  Gardens,  127 
Milbank,  Switzer's  garden  at,  133 
Miller,  P.,  145,  234,  352 
Milner,  George,  299 
Milton,  96,  141,  175, 176,  203,  253,  317 
Moat  at  Wressel,  58 
Mohammad,  27 
Mollet,  61,  321,  357 
Monceaux,  61,  401 
Montargis  Gardens,  332 
Montaiglon,  50 
Montaigne,  53 

Monte  Cavallo  Gardens,  55,  iio 
Montesquieu,  144 
Montesquieu,  211 


Montmorency  Gardens,  45 

Montpellier  Physic  Garden,  45 

Moor  Park,  Herts,  120,  378 
,,  Farnham,  229 

More,  Sir  T.,  38,  119 

Morfontaine  Gardens,  209,  401 

Morel,  202,  398,  401 

Morine,  109 

Morris,  394 

Morris,  W.,  292 

Moulin-Joli,  178,  199,  401 

Mound  2.\.  Marlborough,  291 

Mount  Garden  at  Plampton  Court,  337 

Mounts,  57,  70,  76,  79,  80 
,,        at  Low  Laxton,  151 
,,        at  Theobalds,  126,  342 
,,        at  Twickenham,  384 
,,        at  Wadham  College,  3S9 
,,        at  Wressel,  57 
,,        in  Roman  gardens,  322 

Muhammed,  40 

Munich,  gardens  at,  403 

Nara,  Japan,  garden  at,  408 

Nashim-Bagh,  405 

Nassau,  Comte  de,  gardens,  377 

Neckam,  30,  328 

Negroni  Gardens,  226,  321 

Nekht,  3,  318 

Nero,  19 

Newman,  Cardinal,  261 

Nishat-Bagh,  405 

Noisy-le-Roi  Gardens,  358 

Nomentanum,  20 

Nonesuch,  74,   75,  88,  113,  132,  176, 

194,  332 
Norman  Gardens,  328 
Notre,  A.  Le,  61,  102,  116,  117,  122, 

123,127,145,  166,  199,262,357,364 
Nymphenburg,  gardens  at,  403 

Oatlands,  204 

Orangery,  134,  225 

Orbicular  form  of  garden,  75 

Owen,  19 

Oxford,  Christ  Church,  282 
,,       New  College,  266 
,,       Magdalen  College,  373 
,,        St  John's  College,  266,  281 
,,       Trinity  College,  389 
,,       Wadham,  389 


I 


INDEX 


421 


Pagliavam,  226 

Pains  Hill,  140,  197,  203,  204,  394 

,,  Cottage,  291 

Palermo  Gardens,  213 
Palladio,  114 
Palladius,  19,  22 
Pallissy,  B.,  45 

Pamphili  Gardens,  161,  312,  370 
Paradise,  Persian,  4 

,,         of  Sardis,  5 
Pare  de  Vaux,  102 
Parkinson,  J.,  75 
Parsons,  A.,  408  n 
Pater,  W.,  9,  95  «,  294,  410  « 
Pausanias,  6 
Peacocks,  26 
Peacock,  T.  Love,  252 
Peiresc,  90,  232 
Pekin,  garden  at,  390 
Pembroke,    Earl    of,     garden    of,    87, 

202,  342 
Penshurst,  87,  342,  352 
Pensiles,  Horti,  318 
Pepys,  S.,  124 
Peresfield  Gardens,  204 
Persian  Gardens,    i,   4,   12,   94,   127, 

319 

Petrarch,  31,  56 

Peutexoire,  Isle  of,  33 

Phaedrus,  6 

Physic  Gardens,  38,  57,  60,  62,  351 
,,  ,,         at  Cambridge,  351 

,,  ,,        at  Chelsea,  352  n 

,,  „        at  Cologne,  346 

,,  ,,         at  Hamburg,  351 

,,  ,,         at  Holborn,  317 

,,  ,,         at  Kew,  346 

,,  ,,        at  Lambeth,  352  n 

,,  ,,         at  Montpelier,  45 

,,  ,,         at  Oxford,  113,  351 

,,  ,,         at  Salerno,  351 

,,  ,,        at  Venice,  351 

,,  ,,        at  Wells,  346 

Piddleton,  176 

Pilois,  117 

Piscinae,  113,  1 14,  244 

Pitt,  394 

Piatt,  Sir  Hugh,  345 

Plato,  5,  6 

Pleachwork,  87,  281,  342,  352 

Pliny  the  Younger,  15,  256,  321 


Pliny  the  Elder,  12,  13,  63,  96,  114, 

173.  320 
Plutarch,  18,  320,  322 
Poe,  E.  A.,  271 
Pompeii,  323 
Pompey,  18 
Pompylus,  8 
Pond-garden ,2X  Hampton  Court,  331  n, 

337"" 
Poole,  27 

Pope,  141,  175,  183,  253,  332,  383 
Poplars,  Isle  of,  210 
Portuguese  Gardens,  313 
Pratolino,  grotto  at,  54 
Price,  Sir  U.,  2I2,  214,  217,  402 
Privy  garden  at  Hampton  Court,  337 

QuAMST,  187 

Quincunx,  21,  95  n,  373 

Quintilian,  21,  95 

Quintinye,  de  la,  61,  115,  125,  370 

Rabi's  Garden  at  Bordeaux,  236 

Rapin,  Rene,  de  Hortibus,    123,  206, 
236,  245,  246 

Ray,  J.,  118 

Rea,  J.,  373 

Reid,  J.,  374 

Renaissance  Gardens,  30-61,  338 

Renan,  E.,  279 

Repton,  H.,  171  n,  217,  218,  252,  401 

Reux  Gardens,  45 

Riario,  gardens  of,  55 

Richardson,  S. ,  393 

Richelieu,  105,  109,  357 

Richmond  Green,  131 

Robert,  Hubert,  274,  364,  401 

Robinson,  P.,  308 

Robinson,  R.,  35 

Robinson,  W.,  305 

Roman  Gardens,  i,   13,  55,  225,  296, 
320,  322 
,,  Cato's  description  of,  9 

,,  Modern,  257,  296 

Rosamond's  Labyrinth,  75 

Rose,  J.,  370,  378 

Rousham,  140 

Rousseau,   l6l,    202,   209,    273,    364, 

393 
Rueil  Garden,  102,  108,  357 
Rumford,  Count,  403 


422 


INDEX 


Ruskin,  J.,  289 
Ryswick  Gardens,  377 

St  Anthony's  garden,  327 

,,  Bernard,  32,  86 

,,  Benin  Gardens,  327 

,,  Cloud,  102,  105,  161,  370 

,,  Fiacre,  115 

,,  Gall,  gardens  of  Abbey  of,  327 

,,  Germain,  60,  61,  322,  332 

,,  James'  Park,  370 

,,  Jerome,  23,  327 

,,  Martino  Gardens,  209 

,,  Remy  Gardens,  327 
Saint-Hilaire,  7 
Saint-Simon,  102,  139 
Sainte-Beuve,  198 
Sallust,  53,  321 
Salzmann,  404 
Sand,  George,  264 
Sandwich,  100 
Sans-Souci,  404 
Sardis,  Paradise  of,  5 
Savage,  92 

Sayes  Court,  iii,  373 
Sceaux,  102 
Schiller,  222 
Schonbrunn,  403 
Schopenhauer,  254 
Schwetzingen,  gardens  of,  403 
Scipio's  garden,  321 
Sckell,  L.,  403 

Scott,  Sir  W.,  229,  233,  234,  409 
Seneca,  20,  323 
Serle,  J.,  144;;,  384 
Serres,  de,  43,  44,  45, 58,  61,  351  «,  357 
Sevigne,  Madame  de,  117 
Sforza  Gardens,  55 
Shaftesbury,  Earl  of,  115 
Sheen,  Temple's  garden  at,  378 
Shelley,  256 

Shenstone,  167, 188,  204, 281,  393, 394 
Shere  Gardens,  228 
Shalamar  Bagh,  405 
Shiraz,  gardens  of,  319 
Siculus,  Diodorus,  12,  318 
Skelton,  337 

Sidney,  Sir  P.,  65,  202,  352 
Smith,  Adam,  182 
Smith,  Sydney,  238 
Socrates,  5 


Solomon,  3,  63,  237,  319 

Sorgvliet,  377 

South  Lodge,  157 

Southcote,  Philip,  140,  394 

Southey,  235 

Spanish  Gardens,  211,  226,  243,  404 
,,  books  on,  405  « 

Spence,  Joseph,  156 

Stael,  Madame  de,  230 

Statues,  73 

Steckhoven,  403 

Stephens,  Charles,  43,  357 

Sterne,  165 

Stidolph,  112 

Stowe  Garden,  140,  202,  383 

Stuart  Gardens,  62 

Summer  Hall,  38 

,,        House,  66,  73 

Sun  Dials,  74,  79,  151,  240 
,,  at  Moor  Park,  230 

,,  in  Temple  Gardens,  239 

Sunderland,  113 

Sunk  Fence  (^W.3.-Y{.z.),  179 

Surflet,  43 

Sutton  Court,  131 

Swift,  133,  229,  37S 

Switzer,  S.,  133,  389,  404 

Syrian  Gardens,  i,  12 

Tacitus,  19 

Taine,  322,  341,  364 

Tanks,  2 

T  'Ao  Vuan-ming,  23,  28 

Tarquinius  Superbus,  garden  of,  320 

Tasso,  55 

Tatius,  Achilles,  25 

Tavernier,  319 

Taylor,  John,  87,  342 

Temple  Gardens,  239 

Temple,  Sir  W.,  4,  15,  75,  95  «,  119, 

176,  229,  330,  378,  383 
Temple,  Lord,  202,  383 
Temples  in  Gardens,  202 
Tench,  Sir  F.,  151 
Tennyson's  garden,  300 
Terrace  in  Roman  gardens,  16 
Thalysia,  9 

"The  Water  Poet,"  %■] 
Thebes,  i,  3 
Theobalds,  garden  of,  75,  88,  126,  176, 

332,  342 


INDEX 


423 


Theocritus,  9 

Theophrastus,  7>  243 

Thessaly,  80 

Tholus,  in  Roman  Garden,  11 

Thomas,  Inigo,  303,  3S9 

Thoreau,  H.  D.,  275 

Thorney  Abbey,  28 

Thornley,  George,  25 

Tibault  (Theobalds),  88 

Tissaphernes,  18 

Tivoli  Gardens,  199,  311 

Transtevere  Gardens,  55 

Treveris,  57,  346 

Trianon,  210,  256,  264,  403 

Trinity  College,  Oxford,  389 

Tsubo,  128 

Tuileries,   45,  48,  60,   61,    105,    117, 

160,  332 
Turkish  Gardens,  86 
Turner,  W.,  346 
Tusculan,  Pliny's  villa,  15,  321 
Tusculum,  Lucullus'  villa  near,  18 
Tusser,  115 
Twickenham,  Pope's  garden  at,  144 

Ursino  Gardens,  55 

Vanbrugh,  140. 

Varro,  II,  18,  19,  77,  II4,  191,  323 

Vatican,  no,  338 

Vaux  le  Villars  Garden,  358 

Vegetius,  19 

Vergil,  Polydore,  42,  100 

Vernet,  J.,  401 

Versailles,    75,    162,    173,    196,    246, 

256,  262,  273,  276,  341,  357,  403 
Verulam,  Lord,  67 
Verville,  B.  de,  46 
Villa  Albani  Gardens,  341 

,,    Aldobrandini,  161 
Villa  Borghesi,  no 

,,    D'Este,  gardens,  297,  312,  338 
Vinet,  44 

Virgil,  19,  20,  55,  246 
Voltaire,  148 

Wadham  College,  113,  389 
Walls  in  gardens  replaced  by  fosse, 
176 

,  ,,      by  clairvoyees,  378 

Waller,  Sir  W.,  92,  98,  182 


Walpole,  Horace,  75,  95  w,  141 «,  156, 
170,   172,  197,  200,  317,  321,  384, 

394,  397 
Wanstead,  131 
Ware  Park,  84 
Warner,  C.  D.,  308 
Warwick  Castle,  173  n 
Water,  Kent's  treatment  of,  178 
Watelet,  C.  H.,  178,  199,  401 
Watson,  Forbes,  287 
Watteau,  277,  281,  410 
Waverley  Abbey  Gardens,  229 
Wells,  physic  garden  at,  346 ;/ 
Wentworth  Castle,  204 
Weston,  R.,  345  n 
Whateley,  T.,   140  w,   157,    170,    193, 

I94>  397 
Whewell,  W.,  258 
White,  G.,  181 
Whitehall  Gardens,  73 
Whitinson,  10 
Wilkes,  J.,  186 
Wilkin,  94  n 

Wilkinson,  Sir  J.  G.,  3,  318 
Wilson,  J.,  250 

Wilton,  gardens  at,  87,  n2,  342 
Windham,  W.,  217 
Windsor  Park,  204 

_„         Garden,  331 
Winter  Garden,  136 
Wise,  Henry,  125,  133,  135,  233,  378 
Wooburn,  197,  397 
Woodstock,  75 
Worcester  College,  113 
Wordsworth,  W.,  233 
Worhdge,  J.,  129 
Worlitz,  403 
Wotton,  Sir  H.,  84,  352 
Wotton  Gardens,  in,  114,  373 
Wressel  Castle,  58 
Wright,  394 
WUrzburg,  gardens  at,  403 

Xenophon,  4,  53,  319 
Xystus,  16 

Young,  Arthur,  59,  202,  208 

Zarsokojeselo  Gardens,  201 
Zehir  ed-din  Muhammed,  40 
Zola,  302 


2  F 


PRINTED    BY 

TURNBULL  AND   SPEARS, 

EDINBURGH 


I 


University  of  British  Columbia  Library 

DUE  DATE 


OCT  1  4  1974 

JCT  1 1  RBTU 

APR      Q  1Q7e: 

(fLj.  }nl-i<^i 

/, 

Ifm   y  /^fco 

FORM    310 


AGRICULTURE 

FORESTRY 

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