CHAPTER VII
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.