44'4 Notes on Gardens a7id Country Seats : — 



lakes. Through this scenery, subordinate drives have been 

 formed, to the extent, as it is said in the Guide-Book, of 27 miles. 

 Two small garden episodes may be mentioned : one an herb 

 garden, containing such plants as we may suppose the monks 

 might have cultivated to use in medicine; and the other a garden 

 (which, when we saw it in 1807, had a small hot-house in it, not 

 much bigger than a cucumber frame) for a favourite dwarf. The 

 kitchen-garden was in the outer park, about a mile and a half 

 from the abbey, and was only seen from one part of the grand 

 drive. There remains only one point which we think particularly 

 worthy of study ; viz., the very natural manner in which masses 

 of trees of one kind are introduced into the woods. Even in 

 summer, when the difference in the foliage of trees consists 

 merely in shades of green, the good effect of this disposition is 

 obvious. The deep dark foliage of the Scotch pine, and the 

 green of the oak, form the conspicuous masses around the abbey, 

 contrasted by the light tints and graceful forms of a few larches 

 and birches, and with hazel, holly, thorn, and furze as under- 

 growth. On some of the very steep sides of hills, the Scotch 

 pine and larch are almost the only trees, with birches and alders 

 in the bottoms. The silver fir prevails in some places, and attains 

 a noble size, and the beech is also prevalent in others in very 

 large masses. All this is done on so large a scale, and in such 

 a free and natural manner, as never once to excite the idea of art 

 or formality. 



We have spoken thus far of Fonthill as it was, or as it 

 may be supposed to have been, during its occupation by Mr. 

 Beckford ; and we have done so partly from our recollections of 

 what it was when we first saw it, in 1807, through the kindness 

 of Mr. Milne, the gardener at that time, and partly from its 

 present state ; but the reader will recollect that the greater part 

 of the abbey is now in ruins, and all the interesting parts of the 

 grounds (unless we except the grand avenue and drive, and the 

 American grounds) are in such a state of neglect, as hardly to 

 be recognised for what they were in 1807. To preserve the 

 abbey from falling was impossible, from the nature of its con- 

 struction ; but it is deeply to be regretted that the grounds have 

 fallen into hands which, from some cause or other, could suffer 

 the ruin to extend to them. The expense would have been very 

 trifling of thinnhig out the native trees and shrubs in those places 

 where they crowded upon the exotics in such a manner as to 

 injure many of them, and to destroy a still greater number. In 

 addition to this expense, there would have been little more than 

 that of mowing the walks and drives ; for the thinning and prun- 

 ing of the plantations generally, we may reasonably suppose 

 would pay itself. It is a fact worthy of notice, that scarcely any 

 place of the same extent was ever formed that could be kept up 



