Horace Walpole's essay On Modern Gardening: Ancient Gardens
Introduction Ancient
gardens Roman gardens Renaissance
gardens John Milton Sir
William Temple William Kent Early
18th century gardens Ha Ha Thomas
Whately Landscape Gardens Lancelot
'Capability' Brown
Ancient gardens
Gardening was probably one of the first arts that succeeded to that
of building houses, and naturally attended property and individual
possession. Culinary, and afterwards medicinal, herbs were the objects
of every head of a family: it became convenient to have them within
reach, without seeking them at random in woods, in meadows and on
mountains, as often as they were wanted. When the earth ceased to
furnish spontaneously all these primitive luxuries, and culture became
requisite, separate enclosures for rearing herbs grew expedient. Fruits
were in the same predicament, and those most in use or that demand
attention must have entered into and extended the domestic enclosure.
The good man Noah, we are told, planted a vineyard, drank of the wine,
and was drunken, and everybody knows the consequences. Thus we acquired
kitchen-gardens, orchards, and vineyards.
I am apprised that the prototype of all these sorts was the garden of Eden, but as that Paradise was a good
deal larger than any we read of afterwards, being enclosed by the rivers
Pison, Gihon, Hiddekel and Euphrates; as every tree that was pleasant to
the sight and good for food grew in it, and as two other trees were
likewise found there, of which not a slip or sucker remains, it does not
belong to the present discussion. After the fall no man living was
suffered to enter into the garden; and the poverty and necessities of
our first ancestors hardly allowed them time to make improvements on
their estates in imitation of it, supposing any plan had been preserved.
A cottage and a slip of ground for a cabbage and a gooseberry-bush, such
as we see by the side of a common, were in all probability the earliest
seats and gardens: a well and bucket succeeded to the Pison and
Euphrates. As settlements increased, the orchard and vineyard followed;
and the earliest princes of tribes possessed just the necessaries of a
modern farmer.
Matters, we may well believe, remained long in this situation; and
though the generality of mankind form their ideas from the import of
words in their own age, we have no reason to think that for many
centuries the term garden implied more than a kitchen-garden or orchard.
When a Frenchman reads of the garden of Eden, I do not doubt but he
concludes it was something approaching that of Versailles,
with clipt hedges, berceaus, and trellis-work. If his devotion humbles
him so far as to allow that, considering who designed it, there might be
a labyrinth full of Aesop's fables, yet he does not conceive that four
of the largest rivers in the world were half so magnificent as an
hundred fountains full of statues by Gibardon. It is thus that the word
garden has at all times passed for whatever was understood by that term
in different countries. But that it meant no more than a kitchen-garden
or orchard for several centuries is evident from those few descriptions
that are preserved of the most famous gardens of antiquity.
That of Alcinous, in the Odyssey, is the most renowned in heroic
times. Is there an admirer of Homer who can read his description without
rapture; or who does not form to his imagination a scene of delights
more picturesque than the landscapes of Tinian or Juan Fernandez? Yet
what was that boasted Paradise with which 'the gods ordain'd to grace
Alcinous and his happy land'? (Pope). Why, divested of harmonious Greek
and bewitching poetry, it was a small orchard and vineyard, with some
beds of herbs and two fountains that watered them, enclosed within a
quickset hedge. The whole compass of this pompous garden enclosed-four
acres. The trees were apples, figs, pomegranates, pears, olives and
vines. Alcinous's garden was planted by the poet, enriched by him with
the fairy gift of eternal summer, and no doubt an effort of imagination
surpassing anything he had ever seen. As he has bestowed on the same
happy prince a palace with brazen walls and columns of silver, he
certainly intended that the garden should be proportionately
magnificent. We are sure therefore that as late as Homer's age an
enclosure of four acres, comprehending orchard, vineyard and
kitchen-garden, was a stretch of luxury the world at that time had never
beheld.
The hanging gardens of Babylon were a still greater prodigy. We are
not acquainted with their disposition or contents, but as they are
supposed to have been formed on terraces and the walls of the palace,
whither soil was conveyed on purpose, we are very certain of what they
were not; I mean they must have been trifling, of no extent, and a
wanton instance of expense and labour. In other words they were what
sumptuous gardens have been in all ages till the present-unnatural,
enriched by art, possibly with fountains, statues, balustrades and
summer-houses-and were anything but verdant and rural.
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