Formal Garden, Moreton Gardens © Charles Hawes

Moreton, Dorset DT2 8RF

Review from visit May 2003

I have been concerned for some time about the fact that gardens open to the public are usually simply praised by garden writers, any doubts or reservations quietly put to one side. It can be seriously misleading, and it presumably leads to disappointed and confused visitors. And although garden entrance doesn't usually cost much, it does add up for a family, especially when transport costs are added on. It also means that people who open their gardens get no constructive criticism - praise is a poor diet if you are anxious to make a garden that really sings.

I have addressed this for myself by beginning to ask people what two things they would recommend to improve my garden. The results have always been useful and stimulating (sometimes infuriating) - and have led to major rethinks. But I haven't come across many other garden owners also eager for an objective opinion. Richard Frampton-Hobbs of Moreton Gardens in Dorset is an exception. He was not only keen to look at his garden afresh, and totally undefensive about it - he was keen to have my observations published, and hoped that that might provoke useful debate about his garden and about garden criticism.

It happens that I think Moreton Gardens has some interesting problems. One is that the garden is totally separated form the house. A house usually is the anchor of a garden, influencing the style of the garden and providing its focus. So the formal gardens at Moreton feel rather plonked - there is no obvious reason for them to be where they are, or how they are.

The second problem is that there are two distinct styles of garden at Moreton, and they don't marry well or easily. There is a stream running through the garden, which makes a lovely feature in itself, and which has been dammed to make a large pool and a bog garden. The meandering course of the stream and naturalistic shape of the pool have lent themselves to the creation of a landscape garden - one of those gardens which present us with an improved and idealised version of our countryside. To one side of the water there is a small shady area, reminding us of woodland, and at the other a bog garden and a large area of mown grass, reminiscent of pasture. All this is well done. The bog garden in particular is well planted, and the water's edge has escaped the manicuring which can look so odd by a stream.

Richard told me that a growing recognition of the needs of their wildlife, like the water voles, has influenced their attitude to native plants, otherwise called weeds, in this area. Tidy minded visitors have been known to complain - and trying to meet the demands of a wide variety of visitors and visitor's tastes is one of the struggles Richard is faced with. The shady area is tidier, and a little restless. Large drifts of one plant might offer a more exciting prospect - but, I suspect, would please most visitors less, as it would offer less colour and fewer different plants. This may be an overriding consideration in a garden open to the public.

So far, so good. But to the side of this landscape garden is a delightful formal garden, which builds on the pleasures of straight lines, focal points, enclosing yew hedging and colour schemed planting. This is also a great example of its type, but with no house to relate to and no coherent connection to the landscape garden, it floats in the middle of nowhere. Richard and his mother, Philippa, the other creator of the garden, had been on the edge of recognising the nature of this difficulty - they couldn't decide whether the surrounding yew hedges should be allowed to grow high enough to totally enclose the formal garden, or be kept low, so that there were still open views across the garden, landscape-style. The answer, to me, is that they should enclose the formal garden, so the eye is not continually drawn away and distracted from the pleasures of the formal garden to the views beyond - but, more importantly, the two different styles need both a clearer differentiation from each other and a better transition from one to the other.

The formal gardens are backed by an old brick wall, and at one side, creating the beginning of a long axis, is a Summer House, made completely from reclaimed materials: oak from trees that came down on the estate, a roof from an old calf shed, and slabs rejected by the Commonwealth Wargrave headstones for the floor. The Summer House provides the focal point from the Rose Garden, as well as a good place to sit and enjoy. Looking back from the Summer House, though, the Millennium Urn detracts from the view of the fountain in the Rose Garden, by appearing right behind it. The Sundial Garden has a lovely planting in white and yellow - with a little blue in the spring, from forget-me-nots, catmint, blue pansies and iris 'Bedtime Story' followed by iris 'Jane Philips'.

An unusual and strikingly effective touch is the addition at each corner of the paths of a small conifer, chamaecyparis obtusa 'Nana Gracilis'. This has a dramatically sculptural form and a vivid yellow colouring. In summer it is surrounded by white and yellow roses - 'Margaret Merril' and 'Golden Wings'. This garden is connected to the Rose Garden by a long pergola which has a pretty under planting of santolina neopolitana 'Edward Bowles'. The Rose Garden featured a stunning urn full of tulipa 'Viridiflora Greenland' when I visited in spring, and has the advantage of surrounding trees, which do some of the missing anchoring and enclosing.

The garden is full of possibilities and promise, and it will be interesting, of course, to discover whether my observations lead to any changes at Moreton. Even more interesting to discover whether Water Gardener readers share my perspectives? In this case I believe that the owner would be delighted to hear what you think.

Published in Water Gardener 2003

If you have any comments on this review please email me on anne@veddw.co.uk