This was land that had once been gardened and landscaped and bore some noble old trees
Trees turning gold and russet contrast with the deep green of a sharply clipped hedge and towering conifers.
Dream of Gerontius’: ‘the summer wind among the lofty pines’”. Chris points out some Corsican pines towering over the Copse: ever since, those trees have been considered the composer’s ‘lofty pines’. It is perhaps best whispered that Chris’s team have counted the rings of a felled pine and in 1869 these specimens would have been ‘lofty’ only to a very short schoolboy from a very long way away...
The pines were there in Rose and Ellen’s day, however, as were the famous clipped yew ‘rooms’ around the Fountain Garden. “There are di erent accounts of what was planted in here,” admits Chris. “The rooms may have been for di erent botanical families, or perhaps a da odil nursery.” With da odils, as ever, the Willmott sisters worked together and joined syndicates to buy expensive bulbs, then bred and shared their own varieties. Since subsequent plantings have made it unclear as to exactly what was here at any particular point, there is some leeway in planting. “We have a lot of heritage da odils so we’re going to grow more of them here,” says Chris.
The Fountain Garden enjoys plants of interest at any time of year, but other areas are at their heady best in late autumn. In the south border, spent heads of Verbena bonariensis and Physalis alkekengi
peep through dense herbaceous plantings, evoking memories of the past rather than slavishly copying any single era. Blueprints have just been discovered for the classical temple that punctuates the border, built for Rose by her devoted husband, Robert Valentine Berkeley. After Rose’s death in 1922, a devastated Robert Valentine – and an equally distraught Ellen Willmott – conspired to carve a secret message into its eves. Sharp-eyed visitors may still locate the words of Omar Khayyam: ‘The Moon of Heaven is rising once again; / How oft hereafter rising shall she look / Through this same garden after me – in vain.’
With his sister-in-law’s advice, Robert Valentine did his best to continue his wife’s garden, but it was his son who took Spetchley to the next level. Large quantities of catalogues, society memberships, bills and receipts are turning up in the archives, proving that Captain Robert Berkeley was just as fixated with plants as his mother and aunt. Spetchley had opened once a year for the National Garden Society since the movement’s birth, but in the 1950s the Captain formally opened his grounds to the public.
Above Towering Corsican pines in the Copse date back to the 19th century. Right Candy-pink berries of Sorbus ‘Pink Pearl’. Below The spectacular leaves of Melianthus major surround the water feature in the walled Fountain Garden.The Willmott sisters joined syndicates to buy expensive bulbs, then bred and shared their own varieties
The crimson glory vine, Vitis coignetiae, scrambles through the trees, while bronze herons guard a pool.
Smart black obelisks provide structure in the borders as the perennials die back and shrubs start to lose their leaves.
Alongside this venerable inhabitant, the new orchard has been planted with a diverse mix of fruit trees, including medlar, quince, apples, plums, damsons and greengages. As well as the spectacular show of spring blossom, which attracts bees and other pollinating insects, the orchard provides a harvest that extends well into autumn. Quince Cydonia oblonga ‘Meech’s Prolific’ crops heavily in October and the curiously puckered fruits of the common medlar (Mespilus germanica) are at their best when ‘bletted’ (softened) by the first frosts. Wildlife and the environment are central to the ethos of the garden and Juliet aims to tread lightly as she develops and manages the site. “It’s what we’d all like to do, but it is di cult,” she says. “I don’t want to kill things with chemicals and I want to give them as many opportunities to thrive as possible.”
In the mixed woodland to the north of the garden, standing and fallen dead wood has been left to create habitats for birds, mammals and invertebrates. Rosehips and seedheads provide food for birds such as thrushes and finches, and dead vegetation around the garden is left as shelter over the winter months.
Juliet is a passionate advocate for composting. She learnt from her mother who always gardened organically and made her own compost. “I love to draw visitors into the composting and bugs. It’s the teeny things that I’ve always loved. Ecologically, if they go, we’re toast.” Knowing her commitment to composting, just three weeks after they moved in, Juliet’s husband and daughter built her three
Top Clipped features like this tidy circle of box work to counterbalance the borders’ loose, seasonal wooliness. Above right Frosted hips of Rosa rugosa Above left The whorled seedheads of phlomis, or Jerusalem sage, look wonderful left to stand in autumn and winter.
Quince crops heavily in October and the curiously puckered fruits of the common medlar are at their best when ‘bletted’ by the first frosts
Piercing the cool autumnal haze that hangs over the pools at Daws Hall on the EssexSussex border is a glorious array of beautifully shaped specimen trees, blazing with seasonal colour and adding interest to an intentionally naturalistic setting
WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHS NICOLA STOCKEN
Set between two silvery streams, the brilliant red and gold autumn foliage of the tupelo, Nyssa sylvatica, shines through the early-morning mist.
