Tudor gardens were a mix of medieval and modern; monastic utility giving way to horticultural displays of wealth and status. And yet, peeping past the characters in Wolf Hall, the PBS show's historically on-message gardens have a very modern appeal.
Here are 12 garden ideas to steal from Henry VIII's England:
Knot Gardens
Above: Photograph via Hampton Court.
Patterns of low hedges were designed as mazes or knot gardens before developing into parterres. A traditional knot was made with ribbons of contrasting evergreens which seemed to pass over and across each other (see below); box, rosemary, and santolina are useful for this.
An enclosed grid, either a knot or parterre (which is more about outlines than optical illusions) is a clever way to grow flowers which have a straggly undercarriage or which are very late to flower. All is well as long as it is enclosed.
Sun Dials
Above: A sun dial in the garden at Alfriston Clergy House. Photograph via National Trust.
Like many ancient inventions, the sun dial still works and its function continues to be relevant. Its position in the 16th century would have been more crucial but it was not above being lavishly decorated. Today a sun dial looks most at home in a herb garden or as a focal point in a traditional garden. Despite its infallible science, the presence of a sundial is a signifier for atmosphere.
Wattle Fencing
Above: Photograph via Renaissance Garden.
Medieval style translates brilliantly into our gardens now. Handmade, charming and designed for efficiency, a wattle fence was built for security first but also gave a vital sense of enclosure. Even at waist height, barriers against the uncertain world beyond were and are psychologically important.
For more, see Woven Willow Fences and Trellises.
Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight
Above: Landscape designer Tom Stuart-Smith's modern interpretation of medieval geometry at Broughton Grange.
Tudor designs are can be very fresh. We love a bit of formality but especially when it is roughed up. Over-efficient head gardeners in the intervening centuries, who ran their acres like small empires, introduced the idea of immaculate husbandry. But part of the enjoyment of examining the backdrop of Wolf Hall is seeing an overflow of flowers spilling over paths and cimbing over walls. The Arts and Crafts movement owed much to medieval aesthetics and both eras are sympathetic with what we are doing now.
Symmetry
Above: A medieval-style potager, bordered with box and planted with leek, cabbage, spinach, carrot, lettuce, and day lilies has the advantage of being edible as well as decorative. The same can be said for cordoned apples and a tunnel of beans. Photograph by Nicola Stocken Tomkins via Flickr.
Old drawings of formal pleasure gardens and kitchen gardens showed quadrants of symmetrical beds. Raised beds (left over from the kitchen and physic gardens of the monasteries) were another growing approach to which we can relate now. The English landscape movement swept away most of these compartments in favor of open views but a few survived.
Eat Your Skirret
Above: Photograph via Telegraph.
An average salad in Tudor times (though salads were hardly eaten by average people) consisted of dozens of different leaf varieties in one bowl. A wider selection of root vegetables was also more familiar, including salsify and skirret. Part of their popularity problem seems to be that they are tricky to clean and prepare, compared with pre-scrubbed and trimmed vegetables. Like the autumn raspberry, unusual heritage fruits and vegetables are worth considering when your ideas do not concur with those of the local supermarket.
Cottage Garden Borders
Above: Hollyhocks in bloom in antiquarian Ben Pentreath's garden. For more, see A Garden in Full Bloom in Dorset.
When Gertrude Jekyll wrote about cottage gardens, she was talking about an informal style of growing that had gone on for centuries. Flowers and vegetables grown with herbs; decorative, medicinal, and edible mixed happily enough together. The Tudors had a tiny choice in flowers compared with ours but we would be happy with many of their favorites, including dianthus (garden pinks, carnations, or Sweet Williams), the madonna lily, Iris germanica, hollyhock, lilac, opium poppy, violet, lily-of-the-valley, meadow cranesbill, sweet rocket, honeysuckle and ox-eye daisy.
Hortus Conclusus
Above: Photograph by Jim Linwood via Flickr.
An enclosed garden full of earthly delights would include scented flowers and trickling water. Dividing spaces into garden rooms created liveable spaces, while enclosing pleasant scents and keeping "contagion" at arm's length.
Old-Fashioned Roses
Above: Climbing roses at Sissinghurst Castle. Photograph by Bastl F. via Flickr. For more, see Required Reading: Vita Sackville-West's Sissinghurst.
Arbours and pergolas covered in roses and vines fulfilled the need for scent as well as disguise and intrigue. These covered areas were also known as "roosting places" for walkers to sit, hidden yet able to see out. The word gazebo comes from "gaze about."
Moats
Above: Photograph by Kendra Wilson. For more, see: Helmingham Hall in Suffolk: Shouldn't Every Garden Have a Moat?
Shady walks under trees were given appropriate consideration, as they should be now. Fear of sun on the complexion was rooted in fashion as opposed to health but it was considered important enough to affect the way gardens were made. Walkways lined with pollarded trees or topiary kept the sun off, and moats (after the need for defense lessened) were used for leisure activities such as boating. A channel of water— or glorified ditch—can be fantastic for wildlife when semi-overgrown and planted with moisture-lovers.
For more moat life, see: Garden Visit: Lucy Boston's Storybook English Home.
A Bird's-Eye View
Above: A modern interpretation of a knot garden. Photograph via Luxe Crush.
A garden was often glimpsed from indoors and during walks in upstairs galleries. Strong evergreen patterns provided focus and their popularity endured for several more centuries. Cardinal Wolsey had a much-copied knot garden made under his private rooms at Hampton Court.
Trained Trees
Above: A line of pleached crabapple trees by designer Arne Maynard.
Just as now, domestic trees had to be multi-functional and multi-seasonal. No monastery garden was complete without an orchard with beehives, with food as the goal. Small trees were pressed into service for pleaching or pollarding in the name of privacy and shade. Fruit and blossom an obvious advantage.
For more of our favorite Tudor-inspired gardens, see:
- Helmingham Hall: Shouldn't Every Garden Have a Moat?
- Garden Visit: Great Dixter.
- Brit Style: The Walled Garden at Kelmarsh Hall.
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