Landscaping | Life in the English Cotswolds

Over the years, as part of my work as a garden creator, I’ve had the pleasure of planting several rose gardens, mostly on quite a modest scale. However, that changed four years ago when I was asked to design a garden from what was a steeply sloping area close to the house. I had just retired and so the client, whom I’d known for many years, agreed that I would only create the design and oversee the purchase of plants but everything else others would do. In effect, it meant that I had all the fun tasks without having to commit to working endless hours as their own team of builders and gardeners would do all the hard labour. Just as well, as the end design involved considerable earth moving and wall building…

*The rose garden will be in the middle section*

*The rose garden laid out but still some way to go before planting…*

The change of levels meant that a sizeable terrace was needed and at 25m x 8m (82ft x 26ft) I proposed that this would be the perfect place for a formal rose garden. Roses are beautiful when in flower but look dreary during the winter, especially when seen en masse. Here they would be hidden from view but during the warm, summer months their heavy scent would rise to entice the garden visitor to literally follow their nose. Reaching the steps that lead down to the parterre they are hit by a dazzling display of colour creating a (good) visual shock. With the shelter and warmth provided by the terrace walls and some yew hedging, the roses have thrived. The photo below was taken this week, just over three years since they were planted.

*The rose garden three years after planting*

Walking through the parterre I was pleased that I had decided to plant just four varieties, all with rich, vibrant blooms. However, it also made me ponder on the countless roses that I have grown over the years and which were, to me at least, the best. Could I restrict myself to just choosing ten? Well, here goes and not in any special order.

Queen of Sweden Surely this must be everybody’s idea of what the perfect rosebud should look like? It’s a tall, upright rose not unlike the Queen Elizabeth rose although I think it has the edge on that one. I have only ever grown it in one garden and perhaps unsurprisingly, the owners were Swedish. I like to think that hasn’t influenced my choice! It’s good as a cut flower and excellent as a buttonhole.

Rosa de Rescht I first came across this heavily scented moss rose in the garden of an elderly artist where she grew it as a low hedge lining a pathway. Over the years, I got to know her well and she told me it had been planted by her mother when she was a child, so it is obviously a long-lived and trouble-free variety. It is upright, suckers freely but in a good way which means that it never looks straggly or sparce. Best of all, the suckers flower true to type so can be used elsewhere. I was given some several years before the artist died and they have flourished in my own garden. They are disease free and I have discovered that they thrive equally well in semi-shade under trees. You can read more about this rose here.

Rosa Ghislaine de Feligonde This is quite a ‘new’ rose to me. A climber, I planted it to scramble along the top of a garden wall in a client’s garden where instead it sulked for about three years at its foot. I was about to remove it as a failure when it suddenly put on a spurt of growth to become the beauty that it is now. Is it slow to establish or was it just slow in that particular spot? I don’t know the answer but how glad I am that I didn’t condemn it to the bonfire.

Rosa Weichenblau The so-called ‘blue’ roses are not everybody’s cup-of-tea and I have mixed feelings about them. Some I love, others, I’m not so keen. That’s mostly down to colour as the blueness can vary in intensity. I like this rambling rose enough to have it in my own garden where it flowers happily along an old wooden fence filling the garden with perfume for a relatively short period of time. This one I tend to let travel where it wants as periodically quite large lengths of it suddenly die. I’ve never worked out quite why and it doesn’t really matter too much – I just prune it out and fill the space with the new growth which it regularly sends out.

*A love it or hate it rose: Weichenblau*

The Crocus Rose A pale, creamy beauty from David Austen. I grew this shrub rose in a border combined with apricot-coloured roses; the spaces in-between filled with tall spikes of blue campanula and purple salvias. All were contained behind a clipped box hedge and it created a lot of interest. One of the advantages of being a working gardener (I always feel the term ‘professional gardener’ sounds rather dismissive to all those very talented and knowledgeable home gardeners) is that I get the opportunity to experiment with both plants and planting styles and in many different sorts of soils. However, in this instance, I’ve never tried to recreate it despite its success.

Rosa x odorata ‘Mutabilis’ I find this a fascinating shrub rose as it has all the colours of the sunset in one flower: the buds start a very deep pink, the flowers open to a rich pink and gradually fade to apricot. The result is this multi-coloured rose which, with its single flowers being produced prolifically and over a very long period, the effect is mesmerising. It is an open shrub rose with rather wiry, lax branches and so it can get a bit straggly over time. I’ve found that it responds to quite hard pruning although it isn’t as fast to recover as the modern hybrid roses. In my present garden it copes with quite windy conditions, and in one place it has sneaked its way in amongst a wall-grown climbing rose where it has reached a height of five feet. I’ve never tried growing it solely in this way, it would be interesting to find out how it looked. This plant has had several name changes over the years so you may find it offered for sale as Rosa chinensis ‘Mutabilis’ or just Mutabilis Rose.

Gertrude Jekyll Named after the Edwardian garden designer, this vigorous rose is usually sold as a climber where it can reach ten feet. However, if pruned hard each winter and then pruned into shape, it can be grown as a modest sized shrub. Either way you’ll be treated to these superb blooms. I grow it as a climber but I do prune some stems quite hard to make sure that I have growth of all heights. Left to itself all the flowers will be high above eye level on long stems which make fabulous cut flower arrangements in tall vases.

*Gertrude Jekyll, usually grown as a climber*

Blush Noisette Probably best described as a short climber. My experience is growing it in the corner of a high wall where I only tie in the occasional branch, the rest remaining free yet upright. It is smothered in these small, almost double flowers and if regularly dead-headed will flower throughout the summer. Completely trouble-free, it never seems to get attacked by disease or pests.

Rosa glauca Don’t be fooled by the garden catalogues showing a pretty pink almost star-like flower for, as can be seen in the lower left corner of the image below, they are fairly insignificant. This rose (sometimes sold as Rosa rubrifolia) is grown for the colour of its young leaves and stems, making it much more of a foliage plant. A shrub rose, if left to its own devices the colour fades: to maintain its colour interest it needs to be quite hard pruned during the winter to encourage new growth. In the photo below, I planted a trio of them in an herbaceous border with the poppy ‘Patty’s Plum’ in their centre. This poppy always collapses just as it flowers and, as I hoped, here it has become caught on the rose thorns saving me the task of staking and tying them in. I treat the roses as if they were herbaceous plants and so they are cut to within a few inches of the ground in early winter along with all the other plants in the border.

*The poppy ‘Patty’s Plum’ growing through Rosa* glauca

Dog Rose It may surprise you to find included here our wild rose of the hedgerows, Rosa canina. I’ve only ever grown it once and that is here in my own garden. Appearing as an unasked-for bird-sown seedling at the foot of iron estate fencing, any attempt I made at cutting it out only increased its vigour. I don’t like using weedkillers much and so I accepted defeat and decided to try and tame it instead. We have reached a truce: I prune out only the longest stems it continually produces and it, in return gives me a splendid, if short-lived display of beautiful pink and white blooms that the bees and other insects love. Left on, I then have another display of bright red rosehips through early winter after which, it has a severe haircut. The result has become the talking-point of our garden. As I have learnt over the years, sometimes the most unexpected plants or combination of plants give the greatest pleasure.

*A bird-sown wild Dog Rose* growing on a garden fence

Earlier I wrote about the sadness felt within my family, as well as the wider community, at the closure of our small department store that bore the family name, Shortlands. It had spanned the generations for almost one hundred years, firstly as Langstons – my great-grandfather’s surname, and then, after one of his sales assistants married the boss’s daughter, renamed Arthur Shortland. Clever chap, my grandad! Later still, during my tenure, the ‘Arthur’ was dropped. I locked the doors for the final time thirty years ago this spring. Last month seemed an appropriate time to celebrate its history and tell the story, not just of our family connection, but also of the incredible people that worked there over the decades. It can be read in Part One by c lick ing on the link here. I found the response to that blog incredible with so many people contacting me through my website or social media. It was lovely, as well as humbling, to hear their memories and to know that Shortlands had not been forgotten after such a length of time. Although I gave a hint in the blog, I was also asked what have I been doing since 1994. In this post, Part Two, I bring the story up to the present date.

A reaction to my choice of careers that I receive quite regularly is one of surprise. Surprise that I once worked in the world of fashion, and wearing a suit and tie each day, or surprise that I am now working outdoors and wearing jeans and a t-shirt – although, I do have to look smarter on occasion [laughs]. When my retail career of twenty-five years ended, I was in my early forties and my future looked uncertain. I toyed with various career plans, none of which appealed very much. Unsure of what to do next, I decided to take a night class at our local agricultural college, Hall Place at Burchett’s Green. Little did I realise, on the evening of my enrolment, that I would soon be working at the Chelsea Flower Show, working on a gardening series for Channel 4 television or travelling to Hungary, only recently free from Russian occupation, on a horticultural study tour.

My visit to Hall Place had ended not with a night class but a two-year, full-time crammer course in Horticulture where I studied Landscape & Estate Management. Gardening had been the major hobby across the Shortland family for generations; I was the first in modern times to try and make a career of it. Knowing I still had a mortgage to pay, and therefore failure wasn’t an option, I studied hard in a way that I had never managed in my school days and came away with a good qualification. By then, I knew that I wanted to run gardens for large country estates. I had the good fortune to be offered, during my training, a work placement with the Getty family, then the wealthiest in the world. Their Head Gardener, Andrew Banbury, gave me various tasks and projects to carry out, frequently pushing me beyond my comfort zone. I have a lot to be grateful to Andrew for. When it was time for me to leave, I stepped straight into the role of managing gardens for a Swedish family who, again, were keen for me to develop further skills as well as their garden. Over the next few years, I had the opportunity to develop an arboretum, create a lake and, best of all, to manage and develop a one-acre walled kitchen garden.

*The new lake two years after construction*

The Millennium saw a change once again for I left the Chilterns and the area I had known all my life and moved to the Cotswolds, there to manage an historic, Italianate Garden, Kiddington Hall. This had new challenges but, although I enjoyed it enormously, the call of working for myself once again beckoned. In 2005 I set up a design and landscaping business which, I am glad to say, flourished; now I have virtually retired.

One of my last projects had been designing and overseeing a garden that has many elements to it: a 50 metre ha-ha, a cottage garden, formal lawns, terraces, topiary, wildflower meadows and kitchen garden, most of which have been created from scratch. As I watched the garden come to shape, with all the hard work being carried out by the owner’s own team of builders and gardeners, how grateful I was that I could now ‘pull the age card’ and let others do the physical tasks!

When I moved to the Cotswolds in 2001, for the first time in my life I was no longer ‘a local’ and knew no-one. Hearing that Oxfordshire was one of the few counties without a Gardens Trust and that one was being formed, I volunteered and for several years organised talks and visits to gardens which introduced me to many new people. One, hearing of my attempts at writing suggested I joined the local writers group. Feeling very out-of-place I did and before long the talk of ‘doing something big’ with books came about. From those very casual thoughts I found myself part of a small team that created the Chipping Norton Literary Festival. My title of Author, Agent and Publisher Liaison brought me into contact with many people in the literary world and soon I was commissioned by one to write a book on gardening. Three years later it was me being interviewed and giving talks on stage and the radio, a surreal experience.

*Being interviewed at the Chipping Norton Literary Festival*

Looking back over the past thirty years I realise just what a chance I took with my career choice and how fortunate I was for it to have ended well. It has taken me on the most incredible of journeys and given me the opportunity to meet/work with some very special people and places. It has had both tearful and joyful moments – it has also had bizarre and funny ones too: being invited to play in a ‘friendly’ cricket match only to find myself bowled out for two by the Captain of South Africa, or sharing an ice cream with American model, and ex-wife of Mick Jagger, Jerry Hall, these being just two of them. As with the shop, it has been a mix of celebration and sadness. I am so grateful that I have had the privilege of two careers both of which I can look back on with pleasure and a certain degree of pride.