Woodgate, Four Oaks. 13 



phrase at all, and as far as it goes, our expression must be at least equal to our 

 thought." The feeling that Woodgate inspires in its garden setting is that 

 the thought has been careful and sustained, and the expression adequate. 

 If the plan be examined, and it is worth careful study, it is clear that 

 the clearing for the house was made in just the right spot. It affords a drive 

 from the western road just long enough to give a pleasurable sense of anticipation, 

 while it gives a short access for tradesmen from the eastern road. South of the house 

 enough woodland was cleared to give an adequate lawn, surrounded by a belt of oaks 

 through which there is a vista towards the small formal garden, occupying the southern 

 angle of the site. Here is placed a large lily pond with Japanese iris at its corners, 

 surrounded by a yew hedge. A small lawn has also been made on the west side of the 

 house to prevent the undue darkening by overshadowing trees of the drawing-room 

 bay window. East of the house is another little garden on geometrical lines, and in 

 general the terrace and steps on the south front do homage to that element of 

 formality which is the essence of good gardening near a house. As we leave from 

 the building that quality dies away and the design is determined by the position of 

 the big oaks and other trees which it was so desirable to retain. Northwards the 

 garden has been subtly incorporated with the woodland that shelters the house from 

 the cold winds, and the four acres covered by trees are threaded by many winding 

 walks which lead us through a carpet of hyacinth and fern at their several seasons. 

 It may be suggested that it would have been better to have laid down these paths 

 on straighter and more formal lines. The intention was to create the feeling of those 

 woodland paths that take their random windings from the feet of children, who follow 

 the line of least resistance and walk where Nature has been less prodigal of growth. 

 From the house porch there is a long avenue, straight save for one break, which hides 

 the far garden until it bursts into view. After the shadow of the wood the sunlit 

 lawn comes with that quality of surprise which is so valuable in garden design. The 

 avenue leads past a well-equipped kitchen garden on the right to the spacious tennis 

 lawns and bowling green fringed at the north corner by a bank of purple heather, and 

 free of the shade of the trees. From this upper garden a long flight of brick steps 

 takes us down to another, six feet below. A retaining wall with pillars flanking the 

 stairway divides the two, and at its north end is a tall two-storeyed summer-house 

 which serves both levels, as a retiring-place for tea above, and as a house for garden 

 tools below. 



In this lower garden is a maze of formal walks separated by clipped beech hedges, 

 crossed by rose arches luxuriantly clad and bordered by beds of herbaceous flowers. 

 South of the rosery are a rock garden and a little lily pond, where the great white 

 blooms of gladstoniana stand free above the water boldly until the autumn frosts, 

 and red masses of gloriosa float fragrantly. Near by is a little place consecrated to 

 spring bulbs. A good feature of the garden is the judicious use of seats, which are 

 placed at all points of vantage, such as the upper lawn, the rose and rock gardens, 

 the end of the herbaceous walk, etc. 



The grounds at High Coxlease, Lyndhurst, are laid out with less wealth of detail, 

 but are none the less a highly interesting example of a garden stolen from the wild. 

 It would be difficult to find a more enticing site for a house than this little clearing 

 in the heart of the New Forest. One used as a child to picture just such a setting for 

 the cottage of Jacob Armitage, the pious old verderer in " The Children of the New 

 Forest." Though High Coxlease is so near the town of Lyndhurst, it has the 

 atmosphere of remoteness. It would not be surprising to meet there young Edward 

 Beverly, the excellent prig of Marryat's story, answering that question which always 



