Garden visiting, looking at what is through the garden gate, especially those open for National Garden Scheme, with just an occasional foray here and there.
The sad news has been announced that Janet Muter the owner of Lake House, Brundall, Norfolk. has died peacefully at the age of 93. I remember fondly my visit to this extraordinary garden back in 2017, part of my ’90 adventure’ and so, I wish to share it with you again.
Janet had lovingly restored this garden, set on a steep slope, it was once known as ‘The Switzerland of Norfolk’.
The garden was originally created in 1880 by a Dr Beverley who, along with planting an arboretum, dug out a cascade of ponds as seen in the centre of the postcard below. An entrepreneur named Frederick Holmes-Cooper then purchased the grounds in 1917, built a new house for his family which he called ‘Redclyffe’ and set about making ‘Brundall Gardens’ a visitor attraction with a fine hotel and restaurant.
Map of the garden 1920
In 1922 it was reported that 60,000 people flocked to see the gardens. Visitors travelled by bicycle, foot, rail and river, disembarking at the jetty just by the restaurant.
Arriving by boat
Sadly I could not arrive by boat and had to opt for the car. It was a similar time of year to now, a cold April day. Janet Muter was warm and welcoming and told me the story of how she had restored the garden. She and her husband bought a newly-built house on the site in the 1980s, just above the cascade and set about restoring the garden. It had suffered much neglect since its closure in the 1930s and subsequent requisition during the war when the property was used as an enemy aircraft plotting station.
I was very touched when Janet presented me with the book, Rescue of a Garden that she had recently written about the fascinating history of her garden.
So, I cannot resist starting our tour with a picture of the house taken from the book showing the building in 1986, which she describes amusingly as ”A house undressed”:
Photo of the house taken from Rescue of a garden by Jane Muter
No longer so ‘undressed’, it is clothed in mahonia and clematis armandii, and smelling delicious,
with an attractive little border that softens the hard landscape by the front door:
From the house we cross to the other side of the roadway which is in fact the drive to the neighbouring house. I have to confess I am a little confused; this is Lake House, but where is the lake? A rustic hut, shades of an alpine idyll, is surrounded by spring planting.
Stepping back over towards the house I admire the welcome signs of spring in the flower bed, and continue to wonder at the apparent lack of water.
Then, walking through the trees towards the south side of the house, I realise that this has just been the warm- up. The curtain rises, and as I look down, the spectacle unfolds; a series of three delightful ponds descending to a large lower lake, and then I understand why it has been named Lake House.
I am now standing on the patio where a collection of colourful acers grow in pots. You can see how the grassy slope falls away very steeply:
We gently follow the path down on the right-hand side admiring the mixture of mature trees and shrubs, some in flower, that have been planted over the years.
The large-handled pot points the way, and its shape is complimented by the planting surrounding it. Perhaps a gentle reminder that this was a site once inhabited by the Romans.
The first pond we come to is the smallest. There are no straight lines in this garden; pool, plants and pots smoothly flow in gentle curves. On occasions, a fountain plays in the centre.
The path leads away from the water’s edge down through swathes of ground cover; vinca, pulmonarias, lamium and ivy dotted with white honesty.
The Bluebell flowers are just emerging around the multi-stemmed tree and I catch glimpses of water through the twisting the branches,
and finally at the furthest point we venture out through the trees to arrive at the lily lake at the lowest level.
Large and untamed, the lake was almost inaccessible back in 1985 when the Muters moved here.
They cleared fallen trees, excess reeds, and rushes. Janet has always been mindful of the wildlife, the enjoyment of which is an important part of this garden. A beach was created and the gravel path seems to ebb and flow in harmony with the water’s edge.
There are some lovely gems growing on this side; the exquisite aronia melonocarpa,
and pinky darmera peltata, its large leaves yet to emerge.
Water lilies spread out in the manner of Monet, growing across the lake from the far side, where the silence is broken by the sound of a railway and a train that rattles by.
After a while we ascend the side of the lower pond where sweet woodruff grows amongst the fresh green unfurling fronds of the ferns.
At the head of the lower pond we cross over and look back. It is deep and requires dredging every year.
The middle pond is in fact in the care of the neighbour. Annually it is drained to remove the leaves. These water gardens do not just flow timelessly, they need maintenance. There has not been much rainfall in recent months and so the water level is low.
The top pond has a variety of plants emerging around its edge and it is the selection of lime green euphorbias that catches my eye today,
with the ajuga edging the carrstone wall. The stone would have originally been brought over from the western side of Norfolk.
An old tree trunk supporting a climbing rose combines with an ancient pot to provide a touch of antiquity.
We are grateful to have gentle steps to climb this last part but I worry that I have kept Janet outside for too long. A hardy type as she might be, she is an octogenarian and it is a chilly day.
We pause on the top step to take in one last look over the haze of light blue periwinkle. I am in awe as to how someone can garden on such steep terrain.
Watery, wonderful and steep this can have been no easy garden to restore and maintain. It is hard to believe that for half a century it was hidden away beneath the undergrowth. Janet’s enthusiasm for gardening was obvious but it was also the fact that she was so keen to share her garden with others, which she did. I quote from Janet’s book:
‘And in 25 years of opening my garden I have never known anyone leave litter or steal so much as a cutting, well not when I was looking anyway. Whilst rescuing my garden it has helped to raise thousands of pounds for many charities, but mainly for the National Garden Scheme.’
Personally I feel honoured to have visited this extraordinary garden, and to have met Janet. I will indeed treasure the book she so kindly gave me:
Last weekend we were staying in Lyme Regis and by way of using the National Garden Scheme App, I discovered that Frankham Farm some 18 miles away was open on the Sunday.
We drove through the delightful Dorset lanes, narrow with neatly trimmed bare brown hedges and banked with primroses.
Situated in the extraordinary sounding village of Ryme Intrinseca, south of Yeovil, Frankham Farm is a well established working farm and we were directed through the farm buildings situated north of the house to park in front of the cattle yard.
It had amused us that the garden description contained the encouraging words ‘New toilets in 2019′, so having had a lengthy drive through the little lanes of Dorset what a joy it was to find them. Heated too. I felt they deserve recording.
This three-and-a-half acre garden was created in 1959 by Mrs Jo Earle mother of the present occupant. I imagined this magnificent magnolia against the house might have been one of her first plantings.
She loved the Spring but March is that time of year when the weather is so unpredictable and whilst the wintry snowdrops were just going over,
the clumps of delicate daffodils were giving a nod to spring in the morning sunshine.
Defying the chilly wind of “Storm Gareth” and unusually in flower for this time of year, it was a surprise to find Cerinthe major a hardy annual blooming amongst the paving in front of the house.
The Earles planted shelter belts on the east and west sides of the garden, and a low wall surrounds the lawn and its borders to the south. It is obvious that the soil is improved by the occupants of the farmyard. I expect in those early days when the garden was first developed there was labour at hand. Now the mature garden waits for its spring tidy up, and areas like this will come into their own during the summer months.
Not far from this bench (and this photo does not do it justice), is a handsome camellia; the flower a deepest of red and the leaf the darkest of glossy green.
This rose is keen to get going, pushing out its red shoots and dainty leaves.
Aubretia tumbles down from the walls under which happy hellebores flower.
It is an intense blue from this Pulmonaria officinalis. In times past, doctors believed that plants that resembled any body part could be used to treat illnesses of that part. The leaves of Pulmonaria officinalis commonly known as lungwort held to be representative of diseased lungs so this plant was used to treat coughs and diseases of the chest.
A splash of white and a strong fragrance comes from the Magnolia x loebneri ‘Merrill’,
and round the corner the winter-flowering honeysuckle Lonicera fragrantissima clambering along the wall, smells delicious too.
In the vegetable garden brick paths lead around a fine Bramley apple. The area is not only busy and productive
but also decorative too, with paths edged by a variety of low shrubs and arches adorned with a selection of old climbers.
There is even a small rockery arranged like a back-bone of some creature – the perfect place for small alpines.
The terracotta rhubarb forcers at their jaunty angle seem to be enjoying their role.
Rising up behind the vegetable garden adjoining the shelter belts is a particularly spectacular specimen of Photinia x fraseri.
Plant combinations can be enlightening and this healthy skimmia looks so good with a fern. There is no doubt that plants benefit from the enriched soil.
It is a very informal area, wild may be a better description, I worry that the Ivy may take control however the path leads you through Camellias of every colour.
I can’t grow them on my alkaline soil so I take a little time to admire them.
It is an enviable list of trees planted within the shelter belt, their names helpfully identified on a map. Many of the trees were grown from seed and it is easy to forget that in the early sixties there existed few of the garden centres and nurseries open to us now.
On this windy day the canopy sways above us but the intriguing cork oak Quercus suber stands solid.
Mrs Earle’ s final project was a booklet about the garden; it would be interesting to know the story behind this gentleman, alone amongst the trees.
This morning plenty of fir cones lie on the ground but none are as large as this carved wooden sculpture sited at the end of the belt.
We decide to take a break for a bite. Served above the stables it is a relief to get out of the wind. The church ladies are charming, and serve us soup and pulled pork, a skill they have been exercising for many a year. A gentle touch that each table has an arrangement of flowers picked from the garden,
and proudly displayed on the wall is a faded photo of Mr and Mrs Earle and the trowel presented to them back in 2003 by the National Garden Scheme for long service.
We resume our tour through a rustic arch entering the old paddock,
where more-recently planted trees have been sited, perhaps taken over from ponies that once grazed this grassland. The tangle of willow with its silvery catkins is surely the harbinger of spring and this garden opening signifies the visiting season is just beginning. Download that App, get out into a garden, and remember that while it is good for you, you are also raising funds for the health and nursing charities that the National Garden Scheme supports.
You always come away from a garden with something; an idea, a plant or even on this occasion the purchase of a very nice table and chairs, now relocated to my garden.
The Garden Gate is Open 