DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16633#0416
History of Garden Art
an assurance that faith, liberty and prosperity will remain secure in England in the future
as in the past.
One passes on to the famous gardens. In Chapter XIII. of the present work will be
found one of those fine old engravings by the Dutchman, Jan Kip, from a drawing by
Leonard Knyff, which have so great an interest for garden-lovers. The engraving, one of
many which were published in that rare French book of 1714-16, Le Nouveau Theatre de
la Grande Bretagne (in which Kip, Knyff and other gifted artists collaborated and which
is now available in English Houses and Gardens (B. T. Batsford)), shows the Chatsworth
of other days. But there have been many changes. One must assume that Knyff saw a wide
canal, with bridge connecting the western terrace, between Chatsworth House and the
Derwent, since it appears in his drawing; but it no longer exists, nor is it known what
purpose it could have served. Gone the range of low buildings to the north-west of the
house, gone the parterre de broderie to the south of them. The garden on the south front
lives, but with less elaborate adornment. Gone the vast series of intricate bedding on the
east front.
There were great gardeners about m the early days of Chatsworth. Whether or no
the famous Le Nctre played any direct part there—and probably he did not—he had able
disciples. Our author mentions one Grelly, a Frenchman, who was particularly clever
in water-devices. Among the records in the Chatsworth library is a large volume, beautifully
kept in a scholarly hand, showing payments made to various artists and workers late in
the seventeenth century, and one of them named Grillet was perhaps the "Grelly" of
our author.
Grillet (or Grelly) may have anticipated Paxton in the first garden on the west front,
now called the Italian garden, also with the parterre de broderie on the southern portion.
The Italian garden exists to-day, and very beautiful it is, although there is no trace of the
elaborate bedding shown by Knyff and Kip. Instead, there are wide walks and broad areas
of grass, broken by vases and clipped yews, with stone-framed mounds carrying golden
yews amid which are drifts of yellow barberry. There are roses on the terrace walls, and
here and there belts of tawny snapdragons, but of bedding so called there is none whatever.
Nor, standing at the front of the terrace, and looking down to where there may once have
been a large canal, but where indubitably there is to-day the river with its picturesque
bridge on the right, can one feel that it would be in tune with the surroundings. But there
is at the middle of the terrace garden a round pool with what is known as the Duke's
Fountain, and that is more in keeping than the gayest of flower-beds.
No more garish than the Italian garden is the garden on the south front. The same
note of cool spacious lawns, wide walks, and ample water is struck. Flowers there are,
admittedly, but not in the form of wide borders and large beds. When one says that the
brightest floral objects are the hedges of monthly roses, one has perhaps paid the best
tribute that could be paid to the standard of taste which governs the planting.
Where, then, are the flower-beds of Chatsworth? Of formally grown flowers there are
few anywhere. Perhaps the nearest approach to bedding is in the French garden (Fig.
646), which is close to the buildings on the east side. It fronts what was once the orangery
(readers of this work will have grown familiar with the orangeries in the great gardens of
the past), but which is now a camellia house. Here there is really bedding, albeit of no
gaudy kind—simply a group of beds of bright old-fashioned flowers, flanked by rows of
an assurance that faith, liberty and prosperity will remain secure in England in the future
as in the past.
One passes on to the famous gardens. In Chapter XIII. of the present work will be
found one of those fine old engravings by the Dutchman, Jan Kip, from a drawing by
Leonard Knyff, which have so great an interest for garden-lovers. The engraving, one of
many which were published in that rare French book of 1714-16, Le Nouveau Theatre de
la Grande Bretagne (in which Kip, Knyff and other gifted artists collaborated and which
is now available in English Houses and Gardens (B. T. Batsford)), shows the Chatsworth
of other days. But there have been many changes. One must assume that Knyff saw a wide
canal, with bridge connecting the western terrace, between Chatsworth House and the
Derwent, since it appears in his drawing; but it no longer exists, nor is it known what
purpose it could have served. Gone the range of low buildings to the north-west of the
house, gone the parterre de broderie to the south of them. The garden on the south front
lives, but with less elaborate adornment. Gone the vast series of intricate bedding on the
east front.
There were great gardeners about m the early days of Chatsworth. Whether or no
the famous Le Nctre played any direct part there—and probably he did not—he had able
disciples. Our author mentions one Grelly, a Frenchman, who was particularly clever
in water-devices. Among the records in the Chatsworth library is a large volume, beautifully
kept in a scholarly hand, showing payments made to various artists and workers late in
the seventeenth century, and one of them named Grillet was perhaps the "Grelly" of
our author.
Grillet (or Grelly) may have anticipated Paxton in the first garden on the west front,
now called the Italian garden, also with the parterre de broderie on the southern portion.
The Italian garden exists to-day, and very beautiful it is, although there is no trace of the
elaborate bedding shown by Knyff and Kip. Instead, there are wide walks and broad areas
of grass, broken by vases and clipped yews, with stone-framed mounds carrying golden
yews amid which are drifts of yellow barberry. There are roses on the terrace walls, and
here and there belts of tawny snapdragons, but of bedding so called there is none whatever.
Nor, standing at the front of the terrace, and looking down to where there may once have
been a large canal, but where indubitably there is to-day the river with its picturesque
bridge on the right, can one feel that it would be in tune with the surroundings. But there
is at the middle of the terrace garden a round pool with what is known as the Duke's
Fountain, and that is more in keeping than the gayest of flower-beds.
No more garish than the Italian garden is the garden on the south front. The same
note of cool spacious lawns, wide walks, and ample water is struck. Flowers there are,
admittedly, but not in the form of wide borders and large beds. When one says that the
brightest floral objects are the hedges of monthly roses, one has perhaps paid the best
tribute that could be paid to the standard of taste which governs the planting.
Where, then, are the flower-beds of Chatsworth? Of formally grown flowers there are
few anywhere. Perhaps the nearest approach to bedding is in the French garden (Fig.
646), which is close to the buildings on the east side. It fronts what was once the orangery
(readers of this work will have grown familiar with the orangeries in the great gardens of
the past), but which is now a camellia house. Here there is really bedding, albeit of no
gaudy kind—simply a group of beds of bright old-fashioned flowers, flanked by rows of