THE TREATMENT OF WATER
Happy indeed are they whose gardens contain a piece of water,—for
water when properly treated is one of the first aids to beauty and
completeness in design. It may be a stately lake, large enough to
permit of boating in summer and skating in winter, or perhaps only
a small artificially constructed tank, a home for lilies and choice
aquatics. Water is Nature’s mirror, in which some of her choicest
pictures are reflected; the ever-changing features of cloud and
sky, the broken outline of hill and wood, and the nearer fringe of
vegetation which rises softly from the bank. It is because water is so
essentially a handmaiden of Nature, that we must exercise the greatest
care and skill in our introduction of it, into scenes which are purely
artificial in character. Water gardens and “water works” have nothing
in common, though designers of the latter will unhesitatingly apply
the former term to their wretched creations. What would the beautiful
old gardens of Italy be without their fountains?—Torlania, Frascati,
and the cypress terraces of D’Este, Tivoli, their charm is not to be
equalled. But how can we reconcile to the true ideals of a garden, the
monstrous outpourings of the great fountain and cascades at Chatsworth,
the canals and fountains at Versailles and Caserta, and those very
triumphs of ugliness the water squirts of the Crystal Palace? As well
call Trafalgar Square a garden as apply the name to these freakish show
places.
Water may occur naturally in the garden scene, as in the form of lakes,
ponds, rivers and streams, or artificially by the introduction of
fountains, cascades, and architectural objects, connected with a supply
obtained from waterworks or pumped on the estate. In the former case,
the designer usually resorts to means more or less artificial, whereby
he may alter existing features to suit his plan or fall in with his
ideas. Whilst it would be idle to assert that the pond or stream in its
original form would prove best adapted for securing good effects in
laid-out grounds, there can be no gainsaying the fact, that alteration
and adaptation too often mar their natural beauty and give but little
in return. The native brook winding its way among ragged banks,
fringed with yellow flag and purple loosestrife, is charming when its
surroundings consist of wood and brake and lush meadowland; it becomes
a weedy ditch when shaven lawns and trim pathways have taken their
place. The designer’s first thought when he approaches a site on which
there is a stream or pond, must be to choose between two alternatives:
either the water shall be left much as it is, and the garden planned
in harmony with its unadorned simplicity, or the grounds be designed
first, and the stream entirely altered in consequence. Needless to say,
the latter step is by far the more expensive.
The “landscape gardener” who has pronounced leanings towards
architecture, will treat our streamlet with scant courtesy. Probably he
will alter its course altogether, bringing it up to his terrace garden
and confining it between strictly parallel walls of stone or brick.
The pond will fare no better, its swampy sides, the former home of
bulrushes and sedge, will be drained, promontories will be cut away,
the outline made regular, and the whole surrounded with a balustrade,
on which stone vases will rise at intervals. This is the view which
has been embodied in the design of hundreds of English gardens; the
possession of a scrap of water being seized upon as an opportunity for
a lavish display of dressed stone or artificial rockwork built into an
endless variety of grotesque forms. Extremes are seldom pleasing, and
the lover of flowers and sylvan scenes will regard these monotonous
canals and round ponds as scant compensation for the loss of much
natural beauty. The artificial treatment of water, especially when it
is required to form part of a formal scheme, is one of the most costly
undertakings in the whole practice of garden craft, and there are many
who bitterly regret the day when they took the first step towards
taming this fickle ally.
From this it will be inferred that I have little sympathy with
those elaborate arrangements which were considered of such supreme
beauty by Le Notre and certain of the older designers. Not the least
objectionable feature of water which has been conveyed by pipes or
other means into basins and similar receptacles, is that it is nearly
always stagnant. Movement is essential if sweetness and purity are to
be obtained; the offensive condition during hot weather of water in
garden tanks is the surest confirmation of this. Water is precious
because it enables the cultivation of a host of beautiful plants, whose
presence we should otherwise lack; but healthy vegetation is almost
impossible amidst the decay occasioned by stagnation.
[Illustration: STREAM AND WOODLAND]
On a small property water generally occurs in the shape of a stream or
brook, often running an irregular course, with possibly small falls
between the different levels. A case of this kind recently came under
my notice, and I was interested to see how the owner proposed including
it in his plan. The stream entered somewhere on the outskirts of the
property, and on no occasion passed nearer than 300 yards of the lawns
and highly cultivated portion of the grounds. Hence there was no
question of any necessity for formal treatment; the stream as a matter
of fact might have been left exactly as it was, without incongruity.
However, it offered opportunities of a kind not to be missed, and a few
months later I went to see what had been effected. To begin with, the
stream had been “cleaned out” for its entire length, which meant that
every particle of water weed, every tuft of rush and sedge had been
destroyed; a quantity of mud and sludge had been dredged up and thrown
on either bank, and a bridge or two was thrown across for no apparent
purpose. By means of a small dam, a suitable depression in the ground
had been flooded into a miniature lake, from whose surface rose two
aggressive little islands, planted with small conifers and dotted with
rocks. Clumps of iris lined the shore, lilies had been planted, and
twining round the whole so as to give easy access to every part, was
a serpentine path, immaculately gravelled. As I believe the owner has
since repented, I mention this as an instance of what should not be
done in similar cases.
A more rational and certainly more artistic way of treating this same
stream, would have been to consider it as part of the wild garden.
By free drainage of the surrounding land its volume might have been
increased, so as to give it more the appearance of an impetuous
mountain brook than a sluggish and somewhat tame little piece of water.
Each cascade might have been deepened so as to give the water a greater
fall, and small backwater pools where lilies and water plants could be
introduced, would have added to the interest without appearing in any
way artificial. Any increased force of water would necessitate higher
banks, and these would be built in close imitation of those already
existing. The strata being rocky, the soil might have been cleared in
places, and the bare stone exposed; it would become moss grown in
a short time, and with a growth of ferns in the crevices would look
exceedingly well. Frequently such streams are fringed by a plantation,
through which a pathway could be made; the walk should be brought close
to the stream at the most interesting points, and may then meander away
among the trees. The Torrent Walk at Dolgelly is a stream of this kind,
and though in a sense a show place, parts of it are delightfully wild
and free.
The worst possible treatment of the stream is to make it an excuse for
the erection of trumpery rustic bridges, unnecessary stepping stones
and those varied etceteras which are only possible near water of some
description. The designer should have in view the opportunity which is
presented him of making the stream and its banks the home of a good
collection of aquatics; if the requirements of plant life are closely
studied and carried into effect, there will be little chance of the
stream proving anything but satisfactory.
Irregular shaped pieces of water are seldom satisfactory, unless
they are closely modelled on those found in nature. Varied outline
is usually considered satisfactory in that it enables a spirit of
indefiniteness to be preserved, and the true extent of the pond or
lake to be concealed from view. Whilst this is occasionally desirable,
it is by no means invariably so, and it often happens that all idea
of breadth and dignity is lost in the effort to secure irregularity.
Numerous curves along the shore line, and the formation of unnecessary
bays and promontories, generally stamp the work as artificial to the
last degree. To realise the principle which partly governs the shape
of such pieces of water, it is helpful to note the action of a quick
rushing stream or river on the banks which confine it. A lake is often
but a swollen section of a stream. The only thing to cause a deviation
in the course of a river is the encountering of some obstacle, either
a rocky promontory, a small hill or some such obstruction. On reaching
this obstacle we invariably find that the stream is thrown against the
opposite bank with considerable force. If a rocky strata be encountered
it will be many years before an impression is made, if the bank is soft
it will be mined away in a short time. In any case, the final results
are the same, namely the formation of a bay on the side opposite a
promontory; the more abrupt the obstruction, the greater the force of
the water, and consequently the deeper recess of the bay. This is an
elementary law which the designer must carry into practice in order
to achieve some measures of reality in artificial lakes. Islands are
rarely necessary except in the case of large lakes, as they lessen the
extent of water, cramp the proportions, and are in themselves of no
particular beauty.
The saying “Plant the hills and flood the hollows” is as true to-day as
when it was first uttered. Artificial sheets of water, constructed at
great expense in elevated positions are almost invariably incongruous.
True we have the lonely tarns perched far up on the mountain side,
but these have no semblance to the garden lake, either in form or
surroundings. Unless there is a natural inlet and outfall for our
proposed lake, the probability is that it will ere long become foul and
stagnant, and in the absence of a feeding stream, may run dry in the
summer.
On the character of the planting near the margins, will depend almost
entirely the good or bad effect of the lake. The fringe of vegetation,
the overhanging branches, and soft lawns which fall gently to the edge,
are the true beauties of which water is but the foil. Too few trees
will result in a bald, unfinished appearance, too many will cause
the water to become foul, and at the same time destroy its power of
reflection. The proper spots for plantations are the rising banks and
promontories, for which irregular groups of such trees as willows,
alders, rhododendrons, dogwood and birch are particularly suited.
Scrappy planting is to be avoided, boldly defined masses of certain
varieties being far more effective. In the marshy ground near the bays,
the noble gunneras, rheum palmatum, and certain varieties of spiræa and
the larger grasses look extremely well. A list of suitable plants for
such situations will be found in another chapter.
If possible, portions at any rate of the lake should be visible from
the best parts of the flower-garden, or even from the house itself,
and to attain this end vistas should be carefully preserved by the due
regulation of timber and plantations.
Stone embankments quite spoil the appearance of sheets of water,
giving them a semblance to those miniature lakes which are frequently
encountered in public gardens at the seaside. If there is a likelihood
of the banks being seriously damaged by the wash of water, a suitable
protection in exposed places may be made by stones set in cement, the
whole being afterwards hidden with grass and trailing plants. Where the
general surroundings are wild or rocky, a lake with gently undulating
banks and sweeping outline will look out of place; the promontories
will require rougher and more broken treatment, whilst firs, such as
may be seen on Brathay Crag, Windermere, would be more in keeping than
willows and alders, which are associated with scenery of a milder type.
If the site commands a view of a fine natural sheet of water, it is
seldom advisable to create an artificial lake. The latter is almost
bound to look puny and ridiculous, whilst comparison is invited, which
seldom tells favourably on the work of the designer. Similarly, the
artificial stream only too surely betrays its character when a free
flowing river is also included in the line of sight. It is seldom
nowadays that we hear of water being treated in the lavish style of
design which made Brown famous among his contemporaries. So far as the
small property is concerned, the less of Art and the more of Nature we
have, the better. In most cases, existing effects should be jealously
preserved, the designer making it his business merely to amplify and
elaborate these without destroying their individuality. Above all, the
presence of water should be made the excuse for an aquatic garden,
than which nothing gives greater interest and pleasure. Fountains and
cascades are very well, but they are always alike and present from day
to day the same prospect of rising or falling water. The water garden
is ever fresh, ever new, its aspect undergoes constant alteration,
owing to the growth and change of the plants it contains. Above all the
reflected beauty of flower and branch, of cloud and summer sky, are
never failing sources of attraction, bringing home to the most jaded
mind some of the fairest and most subtle charms of the great world of
Nature.