THE SELECTION OF A SITE
There are few points connected with the art of garden design over
which greater differences of opinion are likely to arise, than those
associated with the preliminary consideration—choice of site. For this
reason, the present chapter must inevitably prove more suggestive
than dogmatic; less concerned with particular instances, than with
the broader aspect of the question. It is rare, indeed, to find two
persons, each about to build a residence and lay out a garden, whose
ideas as to the most desirable site for the purpose are in any way
concurrent. One prefers an elevated situation from which a good view
of the surrounding country may be obtained; the other dislikes the
labour of climbing, and must perforce live in the valley. The proximity
of other buildings, giving a sense of companionship and security,
is essential to some; others, again, seek no better society than
that of the woods and silent heath. A man’s profession or hobby will
considerably influence his choice of locality for a home: the city
man must live near a good train service, the ardent golfer’s first
thought is for easy access to the links. Instances could be multiplied
_ad finitum_, all clearly pointing to one end, namely this: that it
is useless to regard any one position as ideal, such a conclusion
only being possible when we are fully cognisant of the peculiarities
of the individual for whom we are working. However, there are certain
characteristics which, if not indispensable, are at least highly
desirable in almost every case, and in briefly discussing a few of the
foremost considerations which must present themselves to everyone about
to build and lay out grounds, it is left to each one to modify or alter
according to his own opinions and preconceived ideas.
In the first place, the accessibility of the piece of land which it
is proposed to treat, must be carefully studied, and this before any
possible advantages or disadvantages connected with the actual site
come to be weighed. The exigencies of modern life demand that ample
facilities shall exist both for ourselves to visit others and for
others to visit us. There are many who have settled in delightful
places in country districts whose subsequent regret is that they are
out of the beaten track. They can neither make calls nor receive their
friends without great difficulty and inconvenience; and worse than
this, communication with tradesmen, and the delivery of letters and
parcels, are matters attended with serious disadvantage. A time comes
in the lives of most city people, when the only form of existence
which seems desirable is that known as “buried in the depths of the
country.” As a temporary expedient, or regarded in the light of a
picnic excursion, this is no doubt delightful enough; but a permanent
residence so situated becomes after a time well-nigh intolerable.
Convenient distance, then, from railway, post office, shops, and
other evidences of civilisation, is the first point upon which the
prospective purchaser must satisfy himself. Carrying the question of
accessibility a step further, it becomes necessary to ensure that
the property shall be approached by a convenient road. As to whether
the road is little frequented, or is in the nature of an important
thoroughfare, individual taste and opinion will necessarily be divided,
but the main consideration, applicable in both cases, is that the road
shall be a good one. No comfort can be expected if the approach to
one’s residence is ill-made and badly kept,—a mere “boreen,” as the
Irish would say. Neither should it be deemed sufficient that a road
is likely to be made in the near future. The authorities often move
with unaccountable slowness, and cases are by no means uncommon in
which unfortunate residents have been kept waiting for years before
anything more than a mere track has been made to their property. Whilst
other details may to a great extent be modified and adapted to meet
requirements, this primary consideration is unalterable: either there
is suitable access or there is not. In the latter case, it is extremely
doubtful whether a host of minor advantages will act as adequate
compensation.
Unless it is proposed to approach the residence by a fairly long drive,
a garden situated beside a main road has many drawbacks. Chief of
these is the dust which is constantly raised during the summer months.
Especially in this age of motor cars, many otherwise pretty places are
completely disfigured during the time they should be most beautiful:
shrubs, trees and hedges are alike smothered with a thick covering
of dust. On this account, and for other obvious reasons, a branch or
bye-road, if well kept, is far preferable as a boundary line.
Presuming that the question of approach has been satisfactorily solved,
the character of the land, its aspect, surroundings and other details
present themselves for careful examination. Much will depend upon
the class of soil with which we are dealing, not only as regards its
suitability or the reverse for garden operations, but because it is
a matter directly affecting the health and comfort of the owner and
his family. Heavy clays are of all things to be avoided; they spell
unceasing labour, and endless discomfort to all whose misfortune it
is to work them. Flowers and trees raised on them are always backward,
and if disease is not actually present, growth is nearly always weak
and stunted. In winter, the land is cold and wet, extremely tenacious
and demanding added strength and perseverance to dig; in summer, it
is parched and baked, whilst tender plants have no possible chance of
making headway. The greasy condition of the garden walks is another
prominent feature of soils of this description. All things considered,
a light, free-working loam, resting on a substratum of a gravelly
nature, is probably best adapted to secure greatest comfort to the
occupier, and health and prolificacy to all forms of vegetable life.
Drainage cannot be entirely depended upon to remedy soils of a cold,
heavy nature, and to all whose intention it is to devote their energies
largely to the delights of garden making, my advice is to shun clay
lands by every means in their power.
The careful designer will devote much attention to the question of
aspect, endeavouring to secure warmth and sunlight for the most
frequented portions of house and garden. It is generally conceded
that land having a gentle slope towards the south-east more nearly
approaches the ideal than any other. Especially if the public road
skirts the northern side of the property, allowing the entrance drive
to be made from that direction, and thus leaving the whole of the
southern slope free for lawns and garden, will this aspect prove
pleasing. Nothing can be more disappointing to the garden lover than
the constant trouble experienced in rearing tender plants and trees in
the damp and cheerless positions assigned to them by certain unthinking
designers. In such gardens the sun is only felt for a fraction of
the day, and as a consequence those beautiful effects of light and
shade, without which the finest scenes are flat and uninteresting, are
conspicuous by their absence. Altitude, as has been mentioned, is
generally more a matter for individual preference and opinion than for
the expression of any decided rules on the subject. Unless, however,
any real objection is felt against land situated at a fair elevation,
I should unhesitatingly prefer it, in the majority of instances, to
that found in flat, low-lying positions. There is all the difference
between the garden perched high on the bleak hillside, where cutting
winds play havoc with its contents, and that situated midway down an
easy slope, above the line of mist and fog. Providing that the aspect
is sunny, and the soil well-drained, such a situation is far warmer
and healthier than the apparently more sheltered site lower down. The
designer, too, will find his work easier in the former case than in
the latter. Privacy is seldom attainable in low-lying gardens; they
are generally overlooked, either by neighbours or by pedestrians on
the public highway. It is next to impossible to screen off unsightly
objects from view, and it is inevitable that the prospect obtained of
the surrounding country is cramped and confined, if not altogether
excluded. On the other hand, an elevated site safeguards all these
objections: it is seldom overlooked, or if it is, artificial planting
and arrangement may be depended upon to quickly remedy matters; whilst
if fine views exist in the vicinity, the designer is afforded an
opportunity of increasing the scope and charm of his own handiwork by
including them. Altitude is undoubtedly an important consideration
which must be duly weighed before a satisfactory decision can be given.
Shelter, or rather lack of it, is one of the troubles which is
almost inseparable from newly laid-out gardens; and as even the most
quick-growing trees and shrubs take some time before they can prove
efficient barriers, natural or existing wind breaks should in all cases
be sought. Natural features will consist of ranges of hills on the
sides of the property most exposed to cold winds—the north, north-west
and north-east. Where these exist, nothing could possibly be better,
but of course probably not one site in fifty will be enhanced by such
advantages. Plantations, protective belts, and stretches of woodland
are valuable features, which, if existing at a convenient distance
from the proposed site, and facing the required quarter, will secure
it from the ill effects of high winds. Should the property already
contain a well grown hedge, it may be advisable to retain it as a
feature of the new design, thus providing shelter, and doing away with
the entire appearance of newness which will otherwise be manifest.
Should mature plantations already exist on the property, great caution
must be exercised by the designer as to his treatment of them. It
often happens that a belt of trees hides a good view, or does not lend
itself to the proposed plan. In the first case the owner may be tempted
to open out vistas by the removal of timber; and in the second, the
entire demolition of the plantation may be contemplated. Before doing
either, he should be quite certain that, in addition to obtaining his
view or carrying out his scheme in its entirety, he will not also
be destroying a form of shelter which would take years to replace.
Naturally, the surroundings will exercise considerable influence on
the choice of a site, and here again the tastes of the individual
have to be considered, rather than the opinions of the idealist. The
presence of water, either a lake or stream, in the adjacent landscape
is an unfailing attraction to some; others would rather face a prospect
of meadow and woodland; whilst there are many who ask no better than
that their garden shall be within sight and sound of the restless
sea. In each respect the individual must please himself, having in
mind, however, that a style of design applicable in one instance will
probably be totally unfitted in another. There is one thing which the
garden lover will surely guard against with every possible care, and
that is the encroachments of the jerry-builder. So much depends upon
the character of the extended views obtainable from the garden, that
it would be extremely unwise to surround oneself with land which, in
all probability, will be dotted with ill-designed villas within the
course of a few years. It is worth many little inconveniences to ensure
that what we have we may hold, and that the view which affords us so
much pleasure to-day will be ours for so long as we care to enjoy
it. Factories, ugly churches (of which there are many), and cottage
property of every description, are features capable of creating a blot
on our vista of landscape, and the ideal site is one on which such
objects not only do not now intrude themselves, but have no possibility
of doing so in the future.
The outlines of the property must also be regarded as relevant to the
question of site, more especially having regard to the impossibility
which exists of making a satisfactory design for gardens of certain
shapes. All who have attempted to achieve artistic results with the
orthodox villa strip, know the extreme unsuitability of the narrow
parallelogram. It is no easy matter, again, to secure a well balanced
plan, in which the separate features are not unduly scattered,
within boundaries which are square or nearly so, though this form is
infinitely preferable to the foregoing. Perhaps the best, certainly the
easiest, results are attained when the outline is triangular, though it
is highly important that the positions of base and apex be considered.
No one desires to curtail the impression of size in their grounds, and
it is generally acknowledged that the more open and less contracted are
the distant views, the better will be the effect. For this reason the
apex of the triangle should concur with the least interesting prospect,
the base with that to which it is desired to give prominence. Taking
the case of the house and gardens on the southern slope, the residence
should be at the upper or northern extremity, with the best views,
the gardens and landscape beyond, stretching south-wards. The chief
windows will face south, and on the extent of the vista, its variety
and absence of signs of foreshortening and curtailment, the skill of
the designer will be appraised. That the garden boundaries should end
in a point does away with all illusion of space; we mark the sudden
transition from the cultivated to the wild, and our grounds appear as
a modest wedge which is in momentary danger of being demolished by the
encroachments of the neighbouring property. Irregularity of outline
is another feature to which objection may be raised on account of the
extra expense incurred in fencing. The number of angles, too, renders
the making of boundary paths a troublesome matter, and for various
reasons a free, flowing outline is far preferable.
If a site can be secured on which a number of fine trees already
stand, it should, other things considered, receive preference over one
which is bare and barren. A well grown tree, grateful on account of
its shade, and beautiful for its stately outline, is one of the most
valued objects in the garden. Should there be too many trees, it is
easy to cut down any that are not required; it is another matter to
plant fresh ones. However, nothing will be gained by endeavouring to
retain existing features of an unsuitable nature, or by altering a
well balanced plan so as to include some object foreign to the scheme.
In such cases it were better to start operations in a field destitute
of tree, shrub or living plant, thereby enabling the projected design
to be carried out unhampered by restrictions. The lack of well grown
timber is indeed the greatest drawback in new gardens, which must
perforce continue for many years before they put on the aspect of
maturity, or even middle age, so that unless there is ample reason for
the contrary, the retention of any suitable specimen trees which may
occur on the site should be ensured. Much responsibility attaches to
the designer who undertakes the laying out of a garden on an entirely
new site; he starts absolutely afresh, and cannot lay the blame for any
possible blunders on the shoulders of his predecessor. Before deciding
finally on any one position, most careful observations should be made,
and the opinion of those in the locality sought as to climate, presence
of fogs, and other details which only extended residence in the
neighbourhood can determine. A good site, favourable alike as regards
soil, aspect and elevation, is certainly the surest foundation which
can be laid for the future designing of a beautiful garden.