Part 14

The house stands on a wide space of grass terrace commanding the garden. On a lower level is a large quadrangular parterre, with cross paths. In each of its square angles is a sunk garden with a five-foot-wide verge of turf and a bordering stone kerb forming a step. The beds within, filled with good hardy plants, have bold box edgings eighteen inches high and a foot thick, that not only set off the bright masses of flowers within, but have in themselves an air of solidity and importance that befits the large scale of the place. They represent in their own position and on their lesser scale somewhat of the same character as the massive yew hedges, twelve feet high and six feet through, that do their own work in other parts of the garden.

These grand yew hedges and solid box borders have responded well to good planting and tending, for the late Lord de L’Isle knew his work and did it thoroughly. Not only was the ground well prepared, but for several years after planting the young trees were provided with a surface dressing that prevented evaporation and provided nutriment. This was carefully attended to, not only in the case of the yews but of the box edgings also.

The cross-walks of the parterre do not meet in the middle, but sweep round a circular fountain basin, in the centre of which stands a statue of what may be a young Hercules, brought from Italy by Lord de L’Isle. The slender grace of the figure might at first suggest a youthful Bacchus, but the identity in such a statue is easily established by looking for one or other of the characteristic attributes of Hercules; these usually are the lion’s skin, the upright-growing hair on the forehead, the poplar wreath or the battered, flattened ears. But the statue stands too far from the walk to be exactly identified.

That the nearer portions of the garden are on the same lines as the older planting is shown by an engraving in Harris’s “Kent,” where the parterre is, now as then, bounded by terraces on two of its sides, the house side and that of the adjoining churchyard, to which access is gained by a beautiful gabled gateway of brick and stone, the work of Tudor times.

The old churchyard has its own beauty, while the church and a fine group of elms are seen from the garden above the wall, and take their own beneficent place in the garden landscape.

The rectangular fountain, which, with its surrounding yew hedges, and the grass walks also inclosed by thick yew hedges, divides the two portions of the kitchen garden, are also parts of the old design, added to by the late owner. The yew hedges beyond the fountain pool have been set back to allow width enough for a handsome flower-border on either side. Water Lilies grow in the pool and the flower-borders display their beauties beyond, while the fruit trees of the kitchen garden show above the thick green hedges as flowering masses in spring, and in later summer, as the taller perennials of the border rise to their full height, as a thin copse of fruit and leafage. The turf walk and flower-border swing outward to suit the greater width of another fountain-basin at the end. This has straight sides running the way of the main path, and a segmental front. Instead of the usual rising kerb, there are two shallow stone steps, the upper one even with the grass, the lower half way between that and the water-level. Except that it is less of a protection than something of the parapet kind, this is a most desirable means of near access to the water; welcome to the eye in all ways and allowing the water-surface to be seen from a distance. It is pleasantly noticeable in this pool that the water-level rises to the proper place. Nothing is more frequent or more unsightly than a deep pool or basin with straight sides and only a little water in the bottom. If the height of the water is necessarily fluctuating it is a good plan to build the tank in a succession of such steps; they are pleasant to see both above and under water, and in the case of an accident to a straying child, danger is reduced to the smallest point.

The picture shows one of the flights of steps from one level to another. To the left two handsome gate-piers and a fine wrought-iron gate lead to a quiet green meadow. Near by and just across it is the Medway, with wooded banks and groups of fine trees. The old wall is beautiful from the meadow side; its coping a garden of wild flowers. Above it is seen the clipped yew hedge with its series of rising ornaments, rounded in the direction of the axis of the hedge, but flat on

FROM THE PICTURE IN THE POSSESSION OF

MR. FREDERICK GREENE]

its two faces. This is seen in the picture on the upper level, above the steps to the left.

Herbaceous plants are grandly grown throughout this beautiful garden. Specially noticeable are the fine taste and knowledge of garden effect with which they have been used. There are not flowers everywhere, but between the flowery portions of the garden are quiet green spaces that rest and refresh the eye, and that give both eye and brain the best possible preparation for a further display and enjoyment of their beauty.

Such an example the picture shows. On either side is a border with masses of strong-growing hardy plants--pale Monkshood, Evening Primrose, Sweet-William, Pink Mallow--then, above the steps, only the restful turf underfoot, and to right and left the quiet walls of yew; at the end a group of great elms. At the foot of the steps, passing away to the right, is another double flower-border, passing again by a turn to the right into the quiet green walk leading to the large fountain basin.

Many a good climbing Rose, with other rambling and clambering plants, find their homes on the terraces. A Gloire de Dijon or one of its class--Madame Bérard or Bouquet d’Or, perhaps; either of these the equal of the other for such garden use--rises from below the parapet of one of the flights of steps and comes forward in happiest fellowship with a leaden vase of fine design; the dark background of Irish Yew making the best possible ground for both Rose and urn.

In olden days these lead ornaments were commonly painted and gilt, but the revived taste for all that is best in gardening rightly considers such treatment to be a desecration of a surface which with age acquires a beautiful grey colouring and a delightful quality of colour-texture. The painting of lead would seem to be a relic of the many toy-like artifices in gardening that were prevalent in Tudor times. All these are rejected in the best modern practice, though all the old ways that made for true garden beauty and permanent growth and value have been retained.

A clever way of utilising the stronger growing Clematises, including the large purple Jackmanii, is here practised. They are swung garland-fashion between a row of Apple-trees that borders one of the walks. Hops are used in the same way. It was perhaps a remembrance of Italy, where Vines are trained to swing between the Mulberries.

The beautiful pale yellow Carnation, named Pride of Penshurst, was raised in this good garden, where everything tells of the truest sympathy with all that is best in English horticulture. Not the least among the soothing and satisfying influences of the pleasure-grounds of Penshurst, is the entire absence of the specimen conifer, that, with its wearisome repetition of single examples of young firs and pines, has brought such a displeasing element of restless confusion into so many pleasure-grounds.

BRICKWALL

East Sussex is rich in beautiful houses of Tudor times; many precious relics remaining of those days and of the Jacobean reigns, of important manor-house, fine farm building and labourer’s cottage. These were the times when English oak, some of the best of which grew in the Sussex forests, was the main building material. The walls were framed of oak, and the same wood provided beams, joists and rafters, boards for the floors, panelling, doors, window-mullions and furniture. In those days the wood was not cut up with the steam-saw, but was split with the axe and wedge. The carpentry of the roofs was magnificent; there was no sparing of stuff or of labour. Much of it that has not been exposed to the weather, such as these roof-framings, is as sound to-day as when it was put together, with its honest tenons and mortises and fastenings of stout oak pins. In most cases the old oak has become extraordinarily hard and of a dark colour right through.

Brickwall, the beautiful home of the Frewens, near Northiam, is a delightful example, both as to house and garden, of these old places of the truest English type. A stately gateway, and a short road across a spacious green forecourt bounded by large trees, leads straight to the entrance in the wide north-eastern timbered front. The other side of the house, in closely intimate relation to the garden, has a homely charm of a most satisfying kind.

The wide bricked path next the house, so typical of Sussex, speaks of the strong, cool soil. The ground rises just beyond, and again further away in the distance. The garden is divided into two nearly equal portions by the double flower-border, backed by pyramidal clipped yews, that forms the subject of the picture, and is enfiladed by the middle windows of the house. In the left hand division is a long rectangular pool with rather steep-angled sides of grass, looking a little dangerous. There is a reason here for the water being a good way below the level of the lawn, for this is much above that of the ground floor of the house; still it is a matter of doubt whether it would not have been better to have had a flagged or bricked path some four feet wide, not much above the water-level, with steps rising on two sides to the lawn, and dry walling, allowing of some delightful planting, from the path to the lawn level.

On the two outer sides of the garden, parallel with the middle walk, are raised terraces, reached by steps at the ends of the bricked path. These have walls on their outer sides, and towards the garden, yew hedges kept low so that it is easy to see over. These low hedges run into a much higher and older one that connects them towards the upper end of the garden.

The clipped yews which give the garden its character are for the most part of one pattern, a tall three-sided pyramid, only varied by some tall cones. One cannot help observing how desirable it is in gardens of this kind that the form of the clipped yews should for the most part keep to one shape, or at any rate one general pattern, just as the architecture, whatever its character or ornament, within some kind of limit remains faithful to the dominant idea.

The picture shows a double flower-border in August dress; good groups of the best hardy plants combining happily with some of the pyramids of yew. To the right is the fine summer Daisy (Chrysanthemum maximum), with the lilac Erigeron and the spiky blue-purple balls of the Globe Thistle, the tall double Rudbeckia Golden Glow, Lavender, Poppies and Phlox. To the left, Phloxes and the tall Evening Primrose, the great garden Tansy (Achillea Eupatorium), seed-heads of the Delphiniums that bloomed a month ago, White Mallow, and the grand red-ringed Sweet-William called Holborn Glory. Everything speaks of good cultivation on a rich loamy soil, for those fine yews want plenty of nutriment themselves, and would also be apt to rob their less robust neighbours. But then the good gardener knows how to provide for this.

There is always an opportunity for beautiful treatment, when, as in

FROM THE PICTURE IN THE POSSESSION OF

MR. R. A. OSWALD]

this case, the garden ground ascends from the house. The garden is laid out to view, almost as a picture hangs on a wall, in the very best position for the convenience of the spectator; and there is nothing that gives a greater sense of dignity, with something of a poetical mystery, than separate flights of steps ascending one after another in plane after plane--as they do in that magnificent example, Canterbury Cathedral. It matters not whether the steps are under a roof or not--the impression received is the same. And there is much beauty in the steps themselves being long and wide and shallow. Looking uphill we see the steps; looking downhill they are lost. It is not the foot only that rests upon the step, it is the eye also, and that is why any handsome steps with finely-moulded edges are so pleasant to see. The overhanging edge may have arisen from utility, in that, where a step must be narrow it gives more space for the foot; but in the wide step it affords still more satisfaction, giving a good shadow under the moulded edge, and accentuating the long level lines that are so welcome to the eye.

STONE HALL, EASTON