“Wye” 
THE GARDEN WITH ITS FAMOUS EILAC HEDGES 
exit around the well mown circle in the center of 
which the old sun-dial still marks the hour of the 
day. The miniature park of scarce an acre lies on 
the left in close proximity to the lawn from which 
it is separated only by great hedges of pink althea 
and purple lilac fully thirty feet tall. This tiny bit 
of woodland with its pines and oaks, maples and 
sycamores, has been left carefully careless as Nature 
meant it should be. Still more to the left are the 
old slave quarters, but a few cabins left; then on the 
right the lawn sweeps majestically into a meadow, 
at the foot of which runs the river. 
The house is essentially Colonial, large and 
harmonious in every detail, and the massive building 
with its flanking of one story wings bespeaks the 
days of long ago. Following the Colonial lines the 
rooms are large and high ceiled, and the charming 
manner in which they all open into the hall which 
runs the width of the house, gives an air of breadth 
and light not found in many houses in America. The 
salon with its old portraits and mahogany, the dining¬ 
room with the silver and glass of three centuries, give 
evidence of luxury which in olden times must have 
been envied by many, rivaled by but few. 
Both hall and salon open out on the pillared rear 
piazza from the foot of which runs the garden which 
is the chef-d’oeuvre, the piece de resistance, of this 
charming old place, and who would scorn to profit 
by the teachings of the “Wye” colonist ? A stretch 
of thickest, softest turf nearly three hundred feet 
square, framed in by hedged walks of rarest loveli¬ 
ness, forms the center of the garden which, beginning 
at the foot of the piazza ends at the old, ivy covered 
stucco greenhouse. Neither trees, nor flowers, nor 
shrubs disturb the unbroken repose of this velvet 
greensward. 
Running parallel with it on either side are the 
narrow walks between hedges of mingled althea and 
lilac and the pure, white petaled syringa, shedding 
a wealth of white and purple glory when the first 
May blossoms come. These hedges reach the re¬ 
markable height of twenty-five feet, forming with 
their interweaving branches, veritable pleached alleys 
so seldom seen in America. Their same compact 
appearance is kept year after year by virtue of the 
careful pruning and training they undergo each 
spring and fall; no unnecessary new slips are allowed 
to sap the life from parent stems. The hedge thins 
out, only to be thickened by sister shrubs, so as year 
follows year, and century climbs over century, the 
delightful effect for which the seventeenth century 
artist struggled remains the same. 
To the left of the garden center are the conven¬ 
tional vineyards and orchards, while on the right, 
nestling within a few feet of the mansion, lie the 
quaint, old-fashioned flower beds, treasuring to-day 
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