I wonder how this garden is doing? Do let me know if you have visited recently. this was written soon after it had newly opened and includes my reflections on some of the recent history of the place. I imagine it’s very poplar, and I thought it was worth re-issuing this post.
June 2022.
My emotional connection with Hadspen-now- the-Newt goes back to the begining of my making Veddw.
And I’d like to tell you about it, which may make the post rather too long. If you’d just like to hear about the latest incarnation, scroll down to where the post is headed THE NEWT (in Somerset). If you’d like to hear the story, make sure you’re sitting comfortably, and then I’ll begin.
It was lonely, making a garden before the internet. I knew no-one else doing what I was doing. But I could use a book by someone who had – Penelope Hobhouse.
You can see why this book was one I could use and relate to by the index:
The book was based on Penelope’s experience reclaiming the ‘long neglected garden at Hadspen House, Someset.’ And I could identify with Penelope because she was human, and had subsequently left an unhappy marriage, finding refuge at Tintinhull where somehow she persuaded the National Trust to let her revive it as a personal garden, in effect, of her own. It was a joy and that is another story…
But we did then visit Hadspen, which had another new incarnation with the arrival of the Popes, Nori and Sandra. For more about their work there see Noel Kingsbury’s obituary of Nori. I think at that time the garden under their auspices suffered the fate of Being Over Talked Up, a sad thing that happens to many gardens and which leads to desperately hopeful visitors travelling miles in eager anticipation only to be rather let down by the inevitable less than ideal reality. But we visited more than once and learnt from the experience.
Then came the famous bulldozing. The Popes left for home in Canada and Niall Hobhouse was left wondering what to do next. He bulldozed the entire centre of the garden, where the Popes had made their mark. Charles and I went to see the result. No idea how we got in but it was a strange experience.
And this was what we saw in the rest of the garden:
And then Niall had a competition to redesign that middle bit, the Walled Garden or Parabola. I’ll let Mary Keen also tell this sad story . She says that Sarah Price won, but I was one of what seemed like hundreds of judges and I never saw that or even voted. Which kind of indicates what an unhappy mess the whole thing was.
THE NEWT
And that effectively brings us to the new incarnation. Don’t ask me how it all happened. I remember that Alnwick got EU millions but I have no idea where The Newt’s millions have come from. But millions have been spent. (OK – Charles told me to include this link which will tell you.)
So, along with hundreds of other people, we went to have a look.
And now I feel overwhelmed. Where to start?
The opulence is staggering and explains all the exclaiming that will go on. The buildings and their accoutrements are beautifully designed and detailed. There is food, wonderful food, and a long way from the usual tea and cake of garden visits. There was one cake in the cafe, and it wasn’t lemon drizzle. There was an excellent salad.
Garden? Well.. I think we decided it’s a Destination. The food and shopping opportunities echo Daylesford and Bailey’s Home and Garden (only I think you’re allowed to take photos at the Newt). It’s full of nice touches – like the blankets in the cafe. (It is in the open air..)
The tea is loose leaf! I have spent years unable to drink horrible teabag tea but The Newt has it right. Infused tea leaves. Wonderful. (But it’s this outdoor cafe or a huge indoor sit down, full menu, restaurant. See below)
There is fun. The toads will water you, in just the right, bearable and amusing amount.
There’s a not too worthy farm kind of theme, (I think there may be chickens) and it’s big on apples, a Somerset speciality. There’s a huge collection, all set out in their counties.
You want to know what the garden’s like? Ok. Here’s pictures.
What do I feel about it all? Somewhat shell shocked, given my memories of the place and associations. We found ourselves remembering the Tank, and wondering what had happened to it. It had been a wonderfully atmospheric, slightly hidden tank of water.
Let’s be clear. The garden is actually interestingly old fashioned. It’s not just the bedding but the relentless inclusion of every garden cliché, however brilliantly executed. The overwhelming tidiness feels municipal (if only our municipalities could still afford it) and you will not find anything reminiscent of the work of Piet Oudolf, Tom Stuart Smith, Nigel Dunnett – see Trentham for comparison.
The gardening is simply not exciting nor original, which is rather devastating given the cost. And the history of the place, as a brilliant designer, Penelope Hobhouse’s personal garden, then the innovative colour based garden of the Popes (see how that has descended into ‘colour themed gardens).
Sometimes this is amusing, or perhaps naive? – for example, bedding precedes and follows this notice
Fittingly, the Gardener’s Cottage has had its collapsed tile roof replaced with thatch.
It’s curiously anonymous. You don’t have a sense of anyone’s vision informing either the garden or the gardening. Though you will find gardeners at work:
Don’t think this means you won’t enjoy it. It is so well polished, with such good touches, such as this in the (brand new) Barn:
It’s a great day out if it’s not too far away and you have visitors to entertain. I enjoyed it. I wish we had half as many visitors as they are doing. Maybe we need some bedding….
Anne Wareham website = Veddw.
Perhaps because I’d been to Babylonstoren and not Hadspen in its heyday, I had a different view of The Newt. I didn’t love it as a ‘garden’, but I thought as a leafy extension of a hotel/spa it was very ambitious and will mature into something interesting, especially for those interested in ‘joining’. I wrote my latest blog on it. https://www.thepaintboxgarden.com/the-newt/
All the charges you have to pay explain why they are billionaires not philanthropists.
All the hideous grasses( weeds where I come from ) replaced lost beauty .
The exhibition puts me in mind of the Eiffel Tower etc in Las Vegas.
Thanks for the update.
I took my mother at her request to visit Alnwick. I’d only ever poached on the river below the castle as a boy. Wow the queue. I’d never taken much interest in Harry Potter I’m to old. Ticket just for the garden sir, ,I must look old. She loved it, me I was left cold. I never visited the Newt I saw the pictures first thank god. I did visit Nori and Sandra’s garden only once too busy running my own nursery nearby. Dixter is a joy like most gardens that use and plant their own stock there is an honesty about them. Shame the Europeans can’t come anymore I guess they need the teas my old nursery became a tea and cake venue after we left. Gardens and gardening is becoming corporate and the emphasis on the hierarchy of it grows faster than the plants.
The Europeans are back visiting us by the coach load. They can get here all right.
I couldn’t agree more! I visited Hadspen several times – it must have been after the Popes had left as the walled garden
was somewhat neglected but still beautiful – and I was enchanted! It was definitely “going over” and I could see that it required major work, but it was magical, especially the cottage garden with the tank and the delightfully dilapidated gardener’s cottage. For me it was the Secret Garden of my childhood book. To say I was shocked by what Niall Hobhouse did does not describe my outrage or sadness at such senseless, wanton destruction. And now The Newt: no – like many of the commentators here, I have not visited and for all the same reasons. Having visited Babylonstoren near Cape Town (a hotel and garden also owned and created by Karen Roos, the owner of The Newt) I was expecting great things. Babylonstoren is exceptionally beautiful – so what happened at The Newt? All that hard landscaping and uninspired planting, from the look of the photos. I think perhaps the prospective audience is very different here from that in South Africa. A huge amount of money has obviously been spent, but give me a gardener’s garden with soul ever time. The Newt looks more like a theme park. Sad.
I read your blog when it first came out, Anne, and am glad you’ve re-posted it as I was planning a visit. What’s finally lured me is the Roman Villa Experience which opened in June: no other garden has one of those!
The ‘Villa Ventorum’ is a recreation and imagination of the original Roman villa within the estate and one of The Newt’s visitor attractions. It’s about a 20-minute walk from the main gardens and is free (but only once you’ve bought your annual membership or are a hotel guest). You need to book a date/time in advance. As a specialist in Roman mosaics, I absolutely loved it – it has a number of those, based on actual Romano-British mosaics. I found it really useful to potter around imagining myself living there, but I think it will have widespread appeal (not just to those of us who take it very seriously indeed!). It’s quite extraordinary and done to an extremely high standard, fitted out with replicas of Roman furniture, pottery, and pretty much everything.
For readers of this blog on gardens, I ought to focus on those. The villa has its own garden which I enjoyed: lovely views over the countryside. I walked back via the Grotto, which was a bit full of visitors (and I was in need of refreshment so didn’t hang about) but it looked extensive and intriguing; I plan to return. Lots of flower planting in the woodland around, which was very pretty but I did wonder whether the plants in question will like the shady location.
Back at the main gardens, I initially failed to find the large newts on the wall by the pond but was looking straight at them: they’re virtually buried in foliage now. Otherwise, it all seemed pretty similar to your photos. I especially liked the Japanese garden and got some planting ideas for a tricky corner of my own garden, though couldn’t spot any labels so will need to do some research. The squirting frogs are great fun! But overall it seems to lack something I couldn’t quite put my finger on – a soul, maybe?
It did all feel very manicured, as if, as a visitor, it was necessary to live up to the concept. Only being allowed to have picnics if the food is bought from The Newt’s shops added to the homogeneous and slightly unrelaxed feel – but the food and drink is delicious so I was happy to conform.
Probably the most beautifully planted car park you could imagine. It was splendidly colourful on my first visit in late June, but fading a bit when I went a couple of days ago.
I wish it well.
Great to be brought up to date – thank you. Interesting that it’s no longer just 20th century but Roman Empire!
The ‘soul’ question is interesting. Can a garden have soul when it is commercial and not in the hands of one individual creator?
OMG what a place. I did wonder what was going on there and like Miranda below, you have saved me the trouble.
Size of eatery.
And a few ££s…
Thank you, Anne, for your comprehensive review and photographs. We live about 20 minutes’ drive from The Newt, but have never quite got around to visiting. Now I don’t suppose we ever will. Firstly, my husband has an aversion to the “silly name” and secondly, you can’t now just rock up and buy an entrance ticket – you have to purchase annual membership at £68 each. You even have to be a member to eat in the restaurant! No, thank you.
Blimey – thanks for that warning!
You can go for free on a tuesday if you are an RHS member and show your card and photo ID
Hi – I only made one trip to Hadspen in the Pope years and that was well before my gardening self appeared so I really had no idea what I was visiting, however I have now made two visits to the Newt in the year it opened, at the annual member price of £17 and we enjoyed it muchly.
Another however, however, for some reason it made me feel slightly uncomfortable in that although I enjoyed the planting, the place, for me, lacked a sense of ownership, more theme park than garden, perhaps it was the newness of it all, the Chelsea perfection, slightly forced, perhaps it will mature and become more personable – and I did enjoy the grasses and the picnic – a destination experience with a lot of plants maybe.
In comparison with Hauser and Worth just down the road in Briton it’s a non- starter – H&W is immersive and serenely beautiful – it’s also free which with annual joint membership at the Newt of £118 makes H&W a useful benchmark for value, however, as a member of the RHS – annual joint membership £101 – 5 free entry gardens, free magazine, free advice etc., – I can now visit the Newt free on a Tuesday, maybe I’ll revisit in 5 years or so after I’ve made it to Veddw . . .
Well, we can do a visit to Hauser and Worth in a day, so I expect to greet you at Veddw soon! You have nailed the limitation of the Newt. And perhaps many other gardens made for visitors rather than private pleasure subsequently shared.
I, too, knew Hadspen very well and my husband still teases me when I point out a grouping of plants I’m enjoying in our own garden, “Very Hadspen-ish” he says.
We visited The Newt last weekend and, yes, we admired the workmanship of the hard-landscaping and mightily enjoyed our lunch but, no, we did not warm to the garden.
Mulling over why we felt so flat and, dare I say it, bored by the garden I came to the conclusion that it was rather like a lot of modern films, i.e. huge budget, amazing special effects, big name actors but such a shame they forgot to commission a well-written script.
We will visit again, if only to get some degree of value from the entrance fee, but it will be lunch that I shall look forward to and I’ll probably only visit the vegetable garden in the hope that the (rather twee) ice-cream van is still there.
I had no idea this had been ‘done’ to Hadspen. I’m no proper creative gardener, but I visited Hadspen many years ago in homage to Penelope Hobhouse having read her books, and found the Pope’s green and lovely spaces. There I fell in love with Hostas and saw acanthus in a border for the first time. The tank was unexpected and oddly compelling and gave me an interest in straight-sided water containers – however small they had to be to fit in my suburban gardens. The Newt (is it really called that?) looks impressive and expensive but as so many comments say – impersonal and corporate. I enjoy a NT garden, but I know exactly what I’m going to get and there is something calm and reassuring about that on the right day. For excitement and inspiration they are not really the best destination – for entertaining visitors, a bit of horticultural shopping and good cards they hit the spot. But back to Hadspen/Newt – I felt a bit sad when I saw your photographs, lovely though it looks, something rather special has been lost.
I’ll give it 15 years ago and hopefully it will have that mix of melancholy and loved the National Botanic Garden of Wales had on my last visit. It’s that “last chance to see” people like about Kentchurch.
The National Botanic has improved – but it also hasn’t stayed locked into 20th century garden planting and design. Last chance to see? Don’t know about Kentchurch, but both those gardens look as if they have a long life ahead of them, esp The Newt, which is hitting all the right middle class buttons, I think.
One tires of experiences but seldom of emotional relationships and for a Garden to be a success it needs to see the same person more than once. The last chance to see can be an intended state as well as an unintended loss of control but requires the design and human intent to seen slightly overmatched by the Garden’s natural trajectories.
In seasonal term the Newt appears to be all about mid-spring but many of us prefer autumn.
Thank you Anne for this comprehensive ‘visit’. I feel fortunate to have met Nori and Sandra, I was quite familiar with Hadspen and after the surprise over their leaving, interested to know how the competition was coming along – and know, as you said, it was a bit of a farce. On my many visits to English gardens, and having met so many people who would know what was going on, never did anyone comment on what was happening there – including Penelope Hobhouse so was there some swearing to secrecy there? And no wonder if there was. Had the gardening world known of this plan there would have been a revolt! Your description of anonymous is perfect. Good workmanship, no soul. Although, like Pat, I loved the derelict photos and shame it couldn’t have just gone back to the earth. I have no curiosity to visit, nor would never consider including it on a tour itinerary. It will just have to live without me!
Cheers and best wishes both, Julia in Vancouver
There was no swearing, it was just that none of us – even, as I said, the judges – knew what was going on, so what to report? And it’s true – there is no part of the garden media that would be publishing anything a bit negative, apart from the Telegraph, which was a bit braver in those days. (see the Mary Keen links) It may improve if it’s allowed to acquire a patina in about 20 years time.
I was not fortunate enough to visit Hadspen during the Penelope Hobhouse or the Pope years and I doubt I will ever visit The Newt. Being inordinately fond of ruins, I loved the photos of the derelict garden and was overwhelmed by the contrast between those images and those of today’s place. The aerial view of the Parabola as shown in the article in The Telegraph made me gasp. It’s not the corporate nature of the place that bothers me as much as the coldness and impersonal quality. The fine workmanship that everyone comments on is proof that much money has been spent, and plans for the future suggest that much more will be. But what a pity that the results show so little sign of originality or innovation. Clinical and emotionless — that’s the impression I get.
A short comment – the grass in question looks to be Melinis nerviglumis – a South African native. I wonder if I am right..
I think it may be more ordinary than that…..
It was a really interesting visit just from the perspective of how it affected me emotionally. At first I was swept up with how slick and professional and expensive everything was – and that’s before even entering the garden. At £15 to go in, even the price point seemed to say that this was a place that was intended for the well off. That wide wooden slatted walkway with carefully hidden fixings, the ticket office building and next to it a brand new estate wall with a tree trunk artfully inserted horizontally into its courses, and then the huge mock threshing barn housing no more than another information desk, a large wooden apple and that amazing mobile suspended from the ceiling. I loved that mobile! Hundreds of thousands had been spent on this projects periphery!
As we walked in, so most people leaving were carrying their logo emblazoned carrier bags, full of products from the beautiful House and Garden shop or Bakery or from the Farm Shop with everything you might want for a really classy sourdough- led picnic. (though no one seemed to be having a picnic in the garden). Or perhaps they had a couple of bottles of the made-on-site cider. No coarse rough round the edges scrumpy production here, but a fully transparent state-of-the-art stainless steel production line, and next to it the open-kitchen Cider Bar, where a grove of mature trees has been planted to shade the tables and benches of the punters, the seat backs draped with beautiful rugs in case one was not at the optimal temperature. Garden, who needs a garden? This was a middle class heaven.
It was a shock walking into the brick-walled Parabola. Disorientating. I wanted to locate where the Popes had had their hosta walk. I was seeing the trained fruit on the walls through a mist of the Popes massive colour themed borders. But then I remembered how we had seen it utterly empty of plants in 2007, just a grassed over space waiting for Niall Hobhouse to make his sodding mind up about which design to choose from his competition (that ended up awarding no prize at all. ). But these memories were quickly swept away by the sheer forcefulness of the hard-landscaping.
The build quality of the pool and rill, steps and beautifully executed pebble mosaic spaces overwhelmed the hundreds of fruit trees that had been planted here. The growing stuff hardly got a look in – but those engraved stones set into the stone walls naming the counties from where the fruit had come from were lovely things in themselves.
Below the Parabola, in a strange reverse-gentrification, the books of Hobhouse’s library in the pretty, stepped down building been cleared out and the space is now occupied by chickens and the building renamed the Fowl House. But everywhere else in the garden the gentrification process was wholly and confidently as you might expect, the rather dilapidated cottage in the Cottage Garden now as smart as you like with its perfect thatched roof. We had tea there once. Now the building seems pointless other than to give weight to the surrounding rather mundane and immediately forgettable planting.
The ordinariness of the planting throughout the garden was, perhaps the most disappointing aspect of the whole enterprise. The Colour Gardens area was so derivative as to be almost embarrassing. The only area I truly liked was some swathes of grasses in circles that doesn’t even get named on the map of the garden. The Kitchen Garden, though huge, was so neat and tidy as to detract from any sense that it was intended to provide food.
Its a big area – over 30 acres I think. I don’t know if that includes the woodland walks but after a couple of hours wandering around I was ready to return to the cafe for the last piece of excellent apple cake and a super cup of tea. Around me, several people were making use of those lovely blankets. I bet you have to bring your own at Glyndebourne.
As you say, millions have been spent…it is now a Destination. From your photos I suspect it has a similar corporate feel to Wisley or Rosemoor. I feel no yearning to go…I probably shall, just to say I’ve seen it.
I shall probably go with friends with children, enjoy expensive coffee with a blanket over my creaking knees and try not to be a curmudgeon.
That’s it!
Thank you for this article and everyone’s comments. I like many here remember Hadspen in the Popes’ time and found it very inspiring. The change is so radical, (destruction) and totally uninspired by the look of it perhaps apart from hard landscaping judging by the photos. Like Katherine Crouch, will visit one day to say I have been… perhaps by the the time I get there it will have improved!
I like the idea of visiting to say you’ve been. Might be a good way to promote Veddw!
I just have this feeling that gardens are turning corporate and any connection to them second-hand and money-oriented; but then I am an impoverished gardener who simply sows fern spores on the bathroom windowsill because I am fascinated by the natural world and completely naive. ‘A desired landscape is not, however, the only why of a garden. Many are created by those for whom gardening itself is a joy, where the decorative aspect is a result rather than the intent. We are definitely in that category. Our lives would be diminished without a garden in which to work’ (Laura Louise Foster, ‘Cuttings from a Rock Garden’)
I’d like to ‘Comment’ in ‘The RHS Garden’ (and I’ve just written an article which I sent to the RHS, but they declined, and which will be published by the Alpine Garden Society in the autumn). But how do you stand in defence of personal creativity and a personal garden in the face of corporate expansion and gardening à la the National Trust? I’m not sure you can. So it’s words like those that Laura Louise Foster writes and the garden she and her husband made at Millstream that tell you what a garden really means to the gardener.
“But how do you stand in defence of personal creativity and a personal garden in the face of corporate expansion and gardening à la the National Trust” ? Well, I think the general public will always be more in favour of the National Trust, for the food and shopping if nothing else? So where do we stand in relation to our (different?) audiences, you and I? I think you do do food!
Our pieces on thinkingardens may tell – https://thinkingardens.co.uk/articles/personal-or-commercial-garden-by-anne-wareham/ and https://thinkingardens.co.uk/articles/what-is-the-purpose-of-a-garden-by-tim-ingram/
We both chew away at these issues without ever quite feeling resolved?
Xxx
Having been to The Newt last weekend I feel I must join the conversation. I too was overwhelmed by the opulence and thrilled by the care taken with paths, paving and walls, excellent craftsmen have been working there and it shows, however the planting was either dull, yards of thyme, santolina and lavender and areas of municipal bedding, The colour borders were in need of tlc, I know it has been difficult weather but staking would have helped and with all those gardeners gaps could have been filled. Vegetables grown for display always seem disappointing, a perfect row of beetroot or wigwams covered with beans seem just a way of filling another space. I will return in 3-4 years to see how it develops, especially all the trained apple trees, but I too missed theTank having visited Hadspen many times and having bought plants that I still treasure.
I rather thought I would love to return when it was being renovated with great excitement.