Susan Elderkin admires the redesigned, riverside gardens of Hampton Court, Herefordshire
Some briefs are briefer than others, but the one for the redesign of the 20-acre gardens at Hampton Court - not the Tudor palace, but a lesser-known fifteenth-century castle in Herefordshire - was about as minimal as you could get. It was issued in 1996 by the house's current, American owners, who were spurred on by their estate manager Ed Waghorn. 'All they said was that it should "be beautiful, and can we have a maze, please",' recalls Simon Dorrell, the garden designer who scooped the job.
It was a huge commission. Simon was then best known for the wonderful garden he created with his partner David Wheeler at Bryan's Ground, also in Herefordshire, and for his illustrations for Hortus, the gar- deningjournal the pair produce from their home. But from the start, he was clear what to do: the details of his brief he realised, would be found in the garden's past.
At the time, the whole site was thoroughly neglected. The two large walled gardens were filled with grass, the crumbling conservatory (possibly designed by Paxton) housed a swimming pool, and a tiny ribbon of pansies ran round the foot of the castle - 'a lesson in how to plant out of scale if ever there was one,' laughs Simon.
But Hampton Court's past was illustrious - and the garden had seen several incarnations. The estate was given by Henry IV to Rowland Leinthall, who later surpassed himself at Agincourt and was subsequently knighted by Henry V so Rowland built the original manor house - it was substantially remodelled in the nineteenth century - in 1427. ln 1692, the owners (by now the Coningsby family) commissioned landscape designers London and Wise to create a garden in the highly manicured English baroque style that was all the rage at the time. Intricate parterres were laid down over all 20 acres; half-a-dozen fountains were fed from the nearby River Lugg; and the name of the house was expanded from Hampton to Hampton Court as a tribute to William and Mary's red-brick palace, where London and Wise also left their mark.
A century later, parterres were out and the pictureque was in. Repton was commissioned to create romantic parklands with rustic bridges and a ha-ha. In 1810, the first of three generations of the Arkwright family moved in, and this is the moment when the gardens became most alive; there are vivid descriptions of Arkwright children hunting, shooting and fishing in the park, hosting croquet games and archery contests. Exotics were grown in the conservatory, roses were cultivated, and the kitchen garden produced every kind of fruit and vegetable. When a stretch of the Lugg flooded and froze in winter, it became a skating rink for an athletic son who was later killed in an avalanche on Mont Blanc. In the 1890s, one of the daughters, Evelyn, found a native primula on the estate; it was propagated and won prizes at RHS shows.
It was with the echoes of these former glories ringing in his head that Simon drew up his plans. 'I wanted to bring out the ghosts,' he says. 'I tried to imagine that a little bit of London and Wise's garden had escaped Repton's bulldozer, as well as elements that other owners might have contributed since, had they had the money and vision' The owners and Ed Waghorn gave their thumbs up.
Work began with the maze. A Gothic-style tower stands at its centre; those who can find their way through the maze can look down from the top over the two walled gardens, and across to the castle and wooded hills beyond. Simon extended Repton's ha-ha so that the majestic specimen trees planted by the Arkwrights 200 years before, including some lovely mature cedars, grow north of the castle in pastures which are once again cropped by cattle and sheep (a previous owner had taken to mowing). To this he added just a hint of the lost formality; four rows of pretty <i>Acer platanoides</i> 'Globosum', clipped into stately lollipop forms, extend east from the house towards the Humber brook.
In contrast to the open parkland, which surrounds the castle and garden, the more formal walled gardens to the west are like ornate jewellery boxes. One of these once again heaves with organic produce (the entire garden is cultivated organically) but today the crops are contained in oak-edged raised square beds. The second walled garden is an ambitious, symmetrical garden that pays homage to the Arts and Crafts movement. Two eight-sided pavilions offer views over an area carved up by rows of pleached limes, yew hedges and canals, the water flowing dangerously over wide stone steps towards the pavilions. Pinkish gravel paths echo the colour of the leaves of <i>Cotinus coggyrgria</i> 'Royal Purple' which grows against the wall.
The adjacent Dutch-style bulb garden harks back to the London and Wise era. Around a rectangular canal, formal box squares alternate with squares of 'masses and masses' of black and white tulips, with purple <i>Verbena bonariensis</i> taking over in summer. What dominates is the sound of gushing water from a stone fountain head in one corner. Just as London and Wise did before him, Simon has diverted water from the Lugg. It flows through the bulb garden, into the walled flower garden, then via an underground channel into the sunken garden. 'River water gives the garden vigour,' he says.
The way back to the park is via a path lined on both sides by herbaceous borders, which are planted in a scheme of soft custard yellows and blues divised by David Wheeler. Bisecting the border-lined path is an extraordinary wisteria tunnel - another legacy of the Arkwrights. In full flower, the lilac-coloured racemes are so abundant you have to part them with your hands in order to pass through.
There was one ghost which Simon invented from scratch - and had a lot of fun with. The escape route from the maze is via a tunnel which starts at the basement level of the tower. Its gentle curve is just enough to exclude light, plunging visitors into darkness. The sound of water draws you through until you emerge in the 'Hermitage', a thatched gazebo, built like the other structures by local craftsmen, beside a waterfall which tumbles into the sunken garden. A circular pool is surrounded by ferns, hostas and gunneras, and overlooked by pines. It's the Victorian garden that might have been; dribbling and squelchy with lots of damp, mossy rocks and only the most subdued white- or cream-flowering plants, such as <i>Cornus</i> 'Eddie's White Wonder'.
Simon's redesign has won the garden many admirers since its first opening to the public in 2000. 'It has turned into what it was never intended to be - a publice pleasure garden,' he says. Intended or not, it's and incarnation that's allowing this historic garden to thrive once again. |
