THERE is perhaps no place within the British islands so strongly reminiscent of Italy as St. Anne’s, in County Dublin, one of the Irish seats of Lord Ardilaun. This impression is first received from the number and fine growth of the grand Ilexes, which abound by the sides of the approaches and in the park-land near the house. For there are Ilexes in groups, in groves, in avenues—all revelling in the mild Irish air and nearness to the sea.
The general impression of the place, as of something in Italy, is further deepened by the house of classical design and of palatial aspect, both within and without, that has that sympathetic sumptuousness that is so charming a character of the best design and ornamentation of the Italian Renaissance. For in general when in England we are palatial, we are somewhat cold, and even forbidding. We stand aloof and endure our greatness, and behave as well as we are able under the slightly embarrassing restrictions. But in Italy, as at St. Anne’s, things may be largely beautiful and even grandiose, and yet all smiling and easily gracious and humanly comforting.
As it is in the house, so also is it in the garden; the same sentiment prevails, although the garden shows no effort in its details to assume an Italian character. But apparent everywhere is the remarkable genius of Lady Ardilaun—a queen among gardeners. A thorough knowledge of plants and the finest of taste; a firm grasp and a broad view, that remind one of the great style of the artists of the School of Venice—these are the acquirements and cultivated aptitudes that make a consummate gardener.
The grounds themselves were not originally of any special beauty. All the present success of the place is due to good treatment. Adjoining the house, at the northern end of its eastern face, is a winter garden. Looking from the end of this eastward, is a sight that carries the mind directly to Southern Europe; an avenue of fine Ilexes, and, at the end, a blue sea that might well be the Mediterranean. Passing to the left, before the Ilexes begin, is a walk leading into a walled inclosure of about two acres. Next the wall all round is a flower-border; then there is a space of grass, then a middle group of four square figures, each bordered on three sides by a grand yew hedge that is clipped into an outline of enriched scallops like the edge of a silver Mentieth; a series of forms consisting of a raised half-circle, then a horizontal shoulder, and then a hollow equal to the raised member.
The genial climate admits of the use of many plants that generally need either winter housing or some special contrivance to ensure well-being. Thus there are great clumps of the blue African Lily (Agapanthus); and Iris Susiana blooms by the hundred, treated apparently as an ordinary border plant.
The picture shows a portion of a double flower-border in another square walled garden, formerly a kitchen garden, and only comparatively lately converted into pleasure-ground. Yews planted in a wide half-circle form a back-ground to the bright flowers and to a statue on a pedestal. The intended effect is not yet finished, for the trellis at the back of the borders is hardly covered with its rambling Roses, which will complete the picture by adding the needed height that will bring it into proper relation with the tall yews. There is a cleverly invented edging which gives added dignity as well as regularity, and obviates the usual falling over of some of the contents of the border on to the path; an incident that is quite in character in a garden of smaller proportion, but would here be out of place. A narrow box edging, just a trim line of green, has within it a good width of the foliage of Cerastium. The bloom, of course, was over by the middle of June, but the close carpet of downy white leaf remains as a grey-white edging throughout the summer and autumn.
Though this border shows bold masses of flowers, it scarcely gives an idea of the general scale of grand effect that follows the carrying out of the design and intention of its accomplished mistress. For here things are done largely and yet without obtrusive ostentation. They seem just right in scale. For instance, in the house are some great columns; huge monoliths of green Galway marble. It is only when details are examined that it is perceived how splendid they are, and only when the master tells the story, that the difficulty of transporting them from the West of Ireland can be appreciated. For they were quarried in one piece, and bridges broke under their immense weight. At one point in their journey they sank into a bog, and their rescue, and indeed their whole journey and final setting up at its end, entailed a series of engineering feats of no small difficulty.
ST. ANNE’S, CLONTARF
FROM THE PICTURE IN THE POSSESSION OF
MISS MANNERING
