In the 19th century the four acre walled garden had heated hothouses and some twenty gardeners. When my grandparents came back from Gloucestershire to live at Barmeath in 1938 the house had been empty for about ten years and house and gardens were both in a sorry state.
My grandmother created an herbaceous border along the length of one of the high red-brick walls. After putting in a lot of effort she realised that it was impractical to create a garden about ten minutes walk from the house, so she abandoned it and created a south-facing border in front of the house. I remember it being extended every year. She did it all herself unless she needed something heavy done, like bringing a load of manure from the farmyard.
Meanwhile my mother cultivated a small part of the walled garden for fruit and veg. One 19th century glasshouse remained where there was a nectarine tree that was prone to infestations of red spiders. I wonder how many unwashed nectarines I scoffed, covered in insecticide. She had a small modern greenhouse where she grew tomatoes. White-fleshed peaches grew along a south-facing wall, protected from the frost by a projecting board above them, the fruit ripened by the heat reflected from the brick wall. A fig tree was not very productive as the figs seldom ripened. The strawberry beds and raspberry canes were both productive. There were the usual selection of green vegetables, globe artichokes, black and red currants, gooseberries and an orchard that only seemed to produce sour cooking apples. When my mother died the walled garden reverted to wilderness.
Between the house and the walled garden is what we called The Wild Garden. There were paths covered in anthracite, to keep the weeds down, and some good shrubs and trees. There was a dogs’ cemetery and a completely overgrown area that had been an archery range. The 21st century seemed most unlikely to bring these gardens back to life.
However, after my brother and sister-in-law had stopped the roof leaking, re-plastered much of the exterior, and built an Orangery attached to the kitchen they turned their attention to the gardens. I look forward to showing you round tomorrow.
The three gouaches, above, are of the gardens at Barmeath, painted by Evie Hone in the 1940s. I’m grateful for the owners’ permission to publish them.
(To be continued)