M. H. Baillie Scott · Houses and Gardens
XXXII. The Garden
Awake O north wind; and come thou south; blow upon my garden that the spices thereof may flow out.
Having considered what changes are desirable in the conception of the modern house to meet the real needs of the average family, I next propose to deal with the garden in the same way, and to try and indicate a few general principles which should govern its design. The function of the garden is to grow fruit and vegetables for the household, and also to provide outdoor apartments for the use of the family in fine weather. This has led to a rough division of the garden into kitchen garden and pleasure garden, a distinction which implies there is no pleasure to be derived from the contemplation of plants or trees which are otherwise useful. We have already encountered this modern conception of beauty, allied solely to uselessness in the house and its furnishing, and need not therefore be surprised to find it arising again in the garden.
If rose leaves, like cabbage leaves, were found to have culinary uses, it is probable that the rose would soon be deposed from its position as queen of the flowers. In the kitchen garden one finds so many plants which have lost caste, as it were, by daring to be useful, and the scarlet runner would probably be as much admired as the scarlet geranium, were it not for the uses of its slender pods. The grey-green foliage and great thistle-like heads of the globe artichoke, the mimic forest of the asparagus bed, and the quaint inflorescence of the onion have each a distinctive beauty of their own which would be more widely recognised if these plants were not used for food.
But if for the sake of convenience we adopt this rough division of the garden into kitchen and pleasure garden, it may be concluded that for the cottager the kitchen garden alone is the most appropriate, including in its borders roses, lilies, and perennial flowers, with a background of cabbages, potatoes and other vegetables. Many old cottage gardens which are no more than this are to be seen in our villages, and show the possibilities of homely beauty which belong to such a union of use and beauty in the garden, and such a garden, worked in the spare time of its owner with a rough and ready lore which is his traditional inheritance, will be profitable as well as pleasant. But if we take a step from the cottage to the smaller type of suburban or country house, we shall often find its occupants have little knowledge of gardening. Under the specialising influence of modern civilisation they have lost the instinct for cultivating the soil, and they have neither the time, knowledge, nor inclination to grow their own vegetables and flowers.
“He who looks at my garden,” says Emerson, “may see that I have another garden.” The proper cultivation of the garden demands a considerable degree of leisure and thought, more than the man of affairs will usually be able to give it. And so the limited means of the dweller in the small house are often still further depleted by the hire of the professed gardener, whose ideas of gardening as an art are expressed in terms of bedding-out and general grooming, clipping and tidying. For such a household the best type of garden would be one which maintained its beauty with a minimum expenditure of labour. The growing of vegetables, in most cases where the labour is not supplied by the householder, will be found to be somewhat an expensive luxury. The lawn, too, will demand constant attention to keep it m order. Gravel paths will require weeding, and hardy annuals will require the preparation of the soil, the sowing of seed, and the removal of the plants after they have flowered. The whole situation seems to point to the natural or wild garden, with those departures that may justify themselves by their usefulness or beauty, secured without undue cost of maintenance. A visit paid to a copse in the spring, carpeted with primroses and anemones, followed by blue-bells, and later with groups of foxgloves, may, perhaps, suggest the thought that -this kind of beauty can only be outdone by gardening of the more ambitious kind when it is at its very best. The woodland copse, moreover, demands absolutely no labour, and is a product of Nature unassisted by the art of man.
And so the small householder, in forming his garden, will do well to take Nature into his counsels and make a virtue of developing the local characteristics of his land.
On sunny hills, where purple heather grows, purple heather shall be the dominant note in his garden scheme; or by the sea, the thrift which blooms on the cliff shall be invited to lend its pink blossoms to edge his paths; and Nature, thus included in the garden, will be assisted and directed and raised to the nth power, so that it will seem but the apotheosis of the beauty of the country-side, and by the help of man in the battle for survival the coarser weeds will be severely handicapped. On these principles it will be possible to secure a garden which does not require constant grooming, and, once established, will take care of itself. Whatever labour may be given to it will be an investment repaid with compound interest, instead of that futile tidying and clipping which must be constantly repeated to keep Nature at bay.
But, apart from the wild garden, the orchard must find a place in the type of garden suggested for the smaller house. The trees, once planted in the grass, will require but little attention. Few things are more beautiful than the masses of blossom in the spring or the ripened fruit in the autumn. Under the trees the grass need not be constantly mown, and if the crop of hay is not profitable, it will at least repay for the labour of the scythe. In the spring the drifts of daffodils and crocuses will show to much greater advantage than if planted in flower-beds, where, on the bedding-out system, it will be necessary to remove them to make room for the next garden effect. It is in the orchard that use and beauty are most happily wedded, and the planting of fruit-trees should form an essential part of every garden scheme.
Having thus agreed to design the garden for the small house on natural lines, and to base it on the wild garden and the orchard, it will become a question as to how far mown grass, in the shape of lawns, should be included in the scheme. In many cases a lawn for tennis, bowls, or croquet is demanded, and, apart from these uses, I do not wish to undervalue the beauty of a well-kept lawn; but it will be well if the smaller householder, before including the lawn as a matter of course in his garden scheme, should realise that it implies a certain cost of maintenance, and that a garden can be formed, and not a bad garden either, without any mown grass at all.
Paths should be as few as possible, and should follow the lines of natural traffic. They should not wind, unless there is a reason for their winding, but should represent the easiest and shortest routes. If one imagines a garden without paths at all one would soon find certain beaten tracks appear, and these would represent the general lines for the fundamental paths. Wherever possible, paths should be paved instead of gravelled, and this is a luxury which may repay by saving the labour of weeding.
It is not, however, necessary to have a wild garden as the outcome of the conditions I have assumed. Plantations of flowering shrubs with the orchard and borders of perennial flowers will constitute also a type of garden which will require little cost for its maintenance.
A garden is expensive to maintain, chiefly in proportion to its artificiality and in the extent to which it includes mown lawns, bedded-out flowers, and clipped hedges. I do not wish to imply that these things are therefore inappropriate to the garden, but that they should be introduced in households of limited means at least with a full knowledge of the labour in maintenance, they entail, and that it may be wiser in many cases to aim at that kind of beauty in a garden which can be achieved by assisting and directing Nature rather than by striving to mould her to an artificial ideal. The kind of garden 1 have tried to indicate is, in short, one for a man who, while fond of a garden, is unable, either through lack of time, means or ability to give it the attention it requires.
It has been my purpose throughout to show what is possible for the average householder, both in the planning of the house and its surrounding garden, and this has led me to dwell on the economic question in gardening designing which, as in the house, is often overlooked. But if these restrictions are removed, many possibilities appear in the development of a garden designed with artistic skill, and planted and maintained with expert knowledge.
The desirability of a natural or wild scheme for the basis of gardens will, of course, greatly depend on the nature of the site; and in the country it is often possible to obtain a site for the house which will require little modification in its essential features. Probably the best in this kind is an old orchard, but this is difficult to obtain. Of natural surroundings, however, there seems nothing quite so good as a setting for the house as a dark moorland covered with the purple of the heather, and that lesser kind of gorse which seems to have been clipped into neat round bushes by Nature’s invisible shears. Add to this the background of a deep pine-wood and a few silver birches, and all the setting a house of grey stone will require will be a terrace enclosed with a rough wall of lichened stone. If a site of this ideal description is large enough, a portion of it may then be well enclosed as a garden of a formal kind; and if there is a stream, for no garden is quite complete without water, it may be carried in formal waterways and by fountains till, in the moorland, its course is marked by the emerald green of its grassy banks, and by the groups of iris, forget-me-nots, and other water plants.
But, in the suburban plots, there are few such possibilities, and a more formal kind of garden is suggested by the rectangular enclosure of the site and the somewhat artificial character of the surroundings.
In my previous indication of the lines in which a garden may be made which will need the minimum expense in maintenance, I have purposely assumed a somewhat extreme case. It will be mainly useful to the average man in showing what features of the garden are expensive to maintain.
In the production of a small suburban garden its practical application may lead to a reduction in the area of mown grass, and the avoidance of grass banks and edgings, which are difficult to keep in order. It may suggest the advisability of paved paths wherever possible, and when the site is large enough, the inclusion of an orchard and wild garden.
It will lead to the exclusion of bedding out geraniums, begonias, or pansies, and will take as a general principle of open-air flower culture that plants should be perennial, and not require removal in winter; and though dahlias, as well as some of the best annuals, may be included in the garden scheme, these will be recognised as worthy of a relaxation of the general rule. In preparing the flower-beds, the ground should be dug for at least a yard in depth, and where the soil is heavy, a drain formed with stones and filled up with good garden soil. The roots of the plants will then strike deep, and they will be little affected by drought. To protect the soil from drought, too, the garden beds should be well covered, and creeping plants may be introduced between the masses of perennials for this purpose. The borders should not be invariably planted with the smallest flowers nearest the edge, and the effect should be varied by bringing tall, bold clumps to the edge of the path, and this edge should not appear as a line, but should be formed by the plants in the border overhanging the path. When a change of level occurs in a garden, a grass bank should not be made, but a rough retaining-wall built of stone, and from the upper level roses and trailing plants should shower their blossoms. The joints should be planted with wall plants, and at its base flowers that will be grateful for the warmth and shelter it gives. The same rough and homely treatment should be used in steps, and these and the walls should be considered as not being mere masonry, but building which is to be clothed with plant life.
A garden of average size may include a lawn for tennis, croquet, or bowls, an orchard, a kitchen garden, and a flower garden in two main divisions—one a rose garden, which may be square or nearly square in form, and the other, which may be long and narrow, devoted to perennial flowers. All these outdoor apartments will be connected with straight paths, and one of these may form a pergola. In making the divisions of such a garden, it is important that sufficient space should be devoted to backgrounds for the flowers and garden ornaments. Of these background materials, the yew hedge is still the best, because of the depth and intensity of its tone. White lilies may look well against a brick wall or a shrubbery, but they will look their best against the sombre yew. And so will roses and other bright flowers. It is this use of the yew background which makes the old flower gardens so unequalled in their effect, and those who advocate its supersession by modern flowering shrubs, which may be more intrinsically charming, forget that the primary value of the permanent material in a garden is as a background to its passing show of blossoms—a stage on which the flowers present their yearly show. Having so arranged the plan that its transient brightness shall be seen in a proper setting, and not lost in the competing confusion of the shrubbery; the next important point to consider will be the connection of its apartments by paths where the vista effects are carefully studied. The beauty of the garden will depend to a great extent on its vista effects, and for this purpose its paths must be straight. The ends of these vistas require special attention, and may be treated in various ways—either by a semicircular recess, with a seat, or a summer-house.
The garden should not, moreover, be too open and exposed to the sun, but should be full of mystery, surprises, and light and shade. One of its most attractive features will thus be the pergola, with its paved walk checkered by the shadows of the climbing plants which form its walls and roof. It matters little what the structure of the pergola is. It may be rough poles with the bark on, roofed with branches, or it may be piers of stone or brick, with an open timber roofing. It should at any rate be rude and simple, and look as if it is meant for an outdoor life in rough weather. Other effects of shade may be gained by walks bordered with, perhaps, hazel or willow, and through these shadowed vistas we may look beyond to an open sunlit space bright with flowers. Actual size has little to do with the effect of such a garden, and a variety of effects may be achieved in a comparatively small area by careful planning.
The garden may include various features and centres of interest on the lines of the main vistas. The square rose garden may be focused in its central sun-dial, and round this wreathed climbing rosfes may form a circle supported by chains and arches. The angles of the square may be marked by single yews, and standard roses may be placed in regular symmetrical positions to realise a calculated effect, while the roses generally will be arranged in some definitely conceived colour scheme. Or in the perennial flower garden clumps of delphinium, phlox, hollyhocks, day lilies, &c., will be the subject of a similar scheme. The flowers, instead of being repeated at regular intervals, like the geranium and calceolaria formula of the villa garden, will be massed in single clumps, and the whole garden will be planted so that at each season of the year something is in bloom there, and in blooming forms a well-studied arrangement of colour. Here a central feature may perhaps be a dipping well for watering the garden. The garden seats, which should be of good design and solid structure, should be placed at those points in the garden which command the principal vistas to which they may form the terminal features, and in similar positions should be placed the arbours or summer-houses.
Amongst other features of the garden not to be overlooked are trellises to form screens or enclosures, and wreathed with rose or vine, tubs and pots for plants to be set at intervals on a terrace or stand, sentinel-like, to mark an entrance. Dovecots set on a pole will give a homely note to the garden, and fountains and statuary will be essential features in a stately scheme.
Terracing will form a necessary part of the garden on sloping ground, and where, as in the old Italian gardens, the slope is considerable, fine effects can be obtained with steps and terraces one above the other. They should be retained by walls rather than by banks, and these walls may be formed of rough stone and planted as previously described.
It would be impossible, with the space at my disposal, to deal adequately with all the features of the garden. I can do no more than indicate a few general principles. Neither have I any wish to pose as a partisan in the quarrel between the naturalists and formalists in its design. In the large garden each should have free scope, and natural garden and formal garden will enter into no rivalry there,: but each will only enhance the peculiar charm of the other, and afford a solace for varying moods.
Public-domain text (1906). Transcribed from the OCR of the Internet Archive’s scan of the Getty Research Institute’s copy (gri_33125001067863) and cleaned for reading: line-end hyphens rejoined, running heads, page numbers and captions removed, and misreadings corrected, among them the stray letters a crease in the scan scatters through the words of some pages. Baillie Scott’s colour plates, drawings, plans and photographs, and the lists of them, are not reproduced.