You know the saying, an Englishman’s home is his castle. That is true. It is equally valid that an Englishman’s garden is the castle’s outer territory of defense which must be kept private and intact.
No neighbor must enter it uninvited. No neighbor, if he can be prevented, must even see it. If there is one thing an Englishman hates, it is to be “overlooked.”
And that is why we happen to know such a darned lot about hedges. We have been planting them and sheltering behind them for many centuries.
Hedges may not mean as much to you as to us. When I was a youngster, I remember driving through a very grand residential district in Florida with the late Otto Kahn.
We passed rows of beautiful houses with superbly manicured gardens, but all the greens seemed to run into one another.
“Are they public gardens?” I asked. “Certainly not,” said Mr. Kahn. “Then why don’t they fence them off? Why don’t they build walls? Why don’t they plant hedges?”
It seemed that such conduct in Palm Beach would be regarded as unneighborly. This was a great mystery.
To me, the essence of a garden is that it should be a secret place. And that, unless you are content with fencing or are rich enough to build walls, it is bound to mean hedges.
Infinite Uses Of Hedges
The use of hedges is infinite. A hedge can be used as part of a formal design. Or as a windbreak . . or as a dark background to delicate flowers . . . or as a thing of beauty in itself . . or as a screen.
Let us consider the latter aspect on the chance that among the sweet-natured readers of this journal, there may be just one who is not all that neighborly, just one who loathes the sight of the woman next door. Or even just one who has moments of incipient nudism.
The first thing to realize about a hedge is that it is a living thing. It isn’t a row of shrubs that you plant in a straight line and then forget about.
Two main implications follow. Firstly, a hedge must eat, and some walls are greedy feeders.
The greediest is the yew, but the box follows it very closely. So, if you have only a small garden, do not think of a hedge as a wall against which you can grow herbaceous stuff. You can’t. The border will take all the nourishment from the sail for a distance of a yard.
The second implication is that a hedge doesn’t remain the neat thing you order from the nursery. On the contrary, it grows like a lusty child, throws out skinny arms, and constantly has to have its hair cut. Hence there should be a grown-up about the house, which is handy with the clippers.
What’s The Ideal Hedge To Use?
And now, what sort of hedge shall we choose, assuming we have a moderate square plot and a longing for a bit of privacy? Lonicera nitida? Yes, and no.
It is tough; it puts on 18″ inches a year, and it is dense and not unpretty in the individual sprays. But it cuts badly. You’d have to let it ramp.
Privet? Laurel? They are all a bit dull. Cupressus macrocarpa? Far too tender for most of us. Yew? Yes, if you remember, it is greedy, and if you don’t live too near the fumes of a city. And if the man about the house is particularly good with the clippers.
We seem to be getting nowhere very fast, so I will tell you my preference. To me, the ideal hedge is made of holly. It has 99 advantages and only one drawback. It takes time.
But if you claim to be a gardener and are intimidated by a little thing like time, you had better go and hang your rake up in the garage and have done with it.
The true gardener totters out at the age of 80 in a howling gale to pick up acorns that will grow into forests for generations yet unborn.
But seriously, a holly hedge does not take as long. You start with plants 2′ feet high—the growth averages 9″ inches a year. Six years go by. Then you have a 6 ½” foot wall of dark glossy green.
I said it had 99 advantages. We need to mention only two. First, it is not a greedy feeder. I have seen a tremendous splash of daylilies nestling against the thick bulwark of a holly hedge. Secondly, it can be formal or informal, as you choose.
You can clip it architecturally or let it have its sweet way.
Two New Ideas For Hedges
Forsythia Intermedia Spectabilis
This makes a lovely hedge, provided you don’t try to grow it too high. About 4’ feet is the limit. If you cut it square in the spring, it looks like a wall covered with gold spangles.
I have seen a forsythia hedge that sprang from a single bush and was made by running layers from the parent. Prune immediately after flowering.
Rosemary
If you are ruthless with rosemaryóthis sounds like the cue for a song–it will form a sturdy hedge 5’ feet high. (Editor’s note: not, alas, as high in most parts of the U.S.) Be ruthless, and I mean cutting back the side shoots at the base to encourage middle and top growth.
If this leaves the floor looking rather scraggy, you have a simple remedyóplant a subsidiary hedge of lavender to cover it up. There is no more enchanting partnership for fragrance and the delicate combination of silvers and mauves.
And finally, don’t forget that even the most commonplace hedge can be made exciting by training things over it.
Here is one example. In a garden near me, there is an old yew hedge, clipped very formally, which is ablaze with nasturtiums every summer.
Nasturtiums don’t mind the poor soil at the base; they don’t damage the yew and cling with minimal assistance. Just a piece of bast here and there.
They seed themselves year after year, and the effect of all that glowing scarlet and orange against the blue-green wall is … but I have run out of adjectives.
44659 by Na