A Privileged Childhood: Two Gardens to Roam

by Claire Leith

In the 1920s my younger sister Ruth (Roo) and myself at a very young age used to be put on the Cornish Riviera Express in Penzance and given into the care of the guard. At Paddington we were collected by our uncle and so with him continued to journey’s end down at our mother’s old home, Highfields, on the outskirts of Bletchingley in Surrey. Our home garden, Porthledden, Cape Cornwall I only mention here in passing as, with the splendid help of Mrs Lucie Nottingham, we have recorded and both written articles [CGT Journal 1994] about this much loved, departed garden, above the sea and open to all that the storms of the Atlantic could throw.

It is only recently in the backward looks of old age that I am become so conscious of the tremendous differences in these two gardens which we delighted in as our birthright. We used to have the daffodils and the primrose path and the parma violets of spring in Cornwall, and went up for some of the summer to Surrey. Later in the year we enjoyed the autumn soft fogs with the sea mysteriously hidden and the Pendeen fog horn and days of gale at home. But for some part of the winter we were roaming the marvellous old Highfields garden and there we knew snow (not a common joy to Cornish children).

Ruth and Claire with Grannie Brown on the front lawn at Porthledden in the 1920s. Claire is 'sat plumped' on her granny's lap 'Ruth was much more independent!'

Ruth and Claire with Grannie Brown on the front lawn at Porthledden in the 1920s. Claire is ‘sat plumped’ on her granny’s lap ‘Ruth was much more independent!’

When Highfields, a tall ivy-clad building, was bought by our grandparents (I think in about the 1880s), there was already a mature garden. There were huge Wellingtonias beside the drive and on the boundary in the field below there were other mature conifers. This large field, with the White Hills beyond, was part of the property and usually hayed to feed the house cow (or cows). In the centre of the field was a disused Fullers Earth pit fenced around. At the rear of the house were a cottage and stabling and indeed all the odd furnishings of a comfortable middle-class home of that time and plenty of staff to keep it so.

On the very earliest visits we had our Nanny, but we soon went by ourselves and always had the run of the garden. (Well, at least we thought so!) We roamed with delight and learnt not to go barefoot when we played by the holly. This was a splendid hedge which ran beside a grass walk almost from the lawn by the kitchen to the top boundary, both grass and shrub kept in handsome order the daisies grew elsewhere. At this garden end was another field used then for potatoes and other crops and one of the field’s enclosures was the back drive. All I remember here was the kindly greengage tree with low branches so we could refresh ourselves in the last summer days.

'This is a long stretch between the tennis lawn and the long holly hedge walk and for my grandparents' golden wedding, it was re-vamped. At the farther end was a walnut tree where we used to 'take tea' apparently the walnut tree harbours no flies.'

‘This is a long stretch between the tennis lawn and the long holly hedge walk and for my grandparents’ golden wedding, it was re-vamped. At the farther end was a walnut tree where we used to ‘take tea’ apparently the walnut tree harbours no flies.’

There were formal beds towards the front of the house and the sundial garden and beyond the grass tennis lawn. However, our own childish delights were different. Not really as far off as I suppose we thought, there was a wood of deciduous trees, very tall and not old, so sunlight filtered and there were wild flowers. The foxgloves reminded me of the ones along the cliffs at home. But our greatest joy was the rhododendrons. These grew between this wood and the tennis lawn. They were old and grew in a wonderful tangle but with accommodating low red shiny fat branches. Here we made dens and climbed as we wished.

I am not explaining the gardens very well for ‘proper gardeners’ but you will gather it was paradise for us. However, the centre of it was all tilled and full of orderly rows of vegetables. Here we used to pass by, not drawn to this tidiness but enticed by the top end a boundary hedge of hazel bushes. No nuts ripe but beside it there were many rows of raspberries ripening day by day. We never did understand how Mrs Popham, our dear kind cook, guessed where we had been.

At the farthest end towards the stables grew a very fine old cherry tree and nearby a beautiful wooden barn. Herein I believe our uncle used to experiment with mushroom growing. There were several greenhouses by a red brick wall, but we were not interested (I feel maybe we had been forbidden to loiter here, or the gardeners were protective). The house itself had a good conservatory off the drawing-room but neither do I recall visits here. When we were older, our mother told us of the orange tree from which the blossom for her bridal veil had been taken.

In all the many visits to Highfields and our relations, I only remember one rather fearsome time when we were summoned to our uncle’s study, a room we did not often enter, with a big desk and a turkey carpet. Apparently the head gardener had complained and very correctly had said nothing to us. We had discovered a wonderful area of great boulders and, if tipped sideways, these yielded glimpses of toads of which we were passionately fond. We would never knowingly hurt any creature it was ignorance that upset the rockery stones, the toads and the gardeners.

These memories come crowding back so clearly and yet sometimes yesterday seems far away. Dear Gardens Trust friends, I do hope you have enjoyed these long-gone scenes and thoughts. In a small way, I have taken you round the second garden of our childhood.

One other little remembering nothing to do with gardens but have any of you similar memories? Still here in Surrey, and down the lane comes the Muffin Man, his tray on his head and bell in one band. Both bell and voice announcing his wares and yes, we did have muffins for tea â–

Highfields
by Ruth Oats

Laughter and tears between the red roses
And Nanny calling from the green lawn.
Hide quick as a flash in the big bushes,
Rhododendron giant bloom bushes,
Climb to safety, lie still against the bark.
The hard brown bark with the leaves spread covering;
No noise save the wild wood pigeons cry.
Nanny, cross Nanny
Calling still from across the wet green grass.
A whisper overheard, ‘Don’t shake the branches.’
Slide down to the rustle of dead leaves brown,
Sprint and get lost behind the water tanks.

Born in 1923, my sister wrote the above and others, this one in November 1963. She died in 1967.

Claire also recently found this photograph of staff at Highfields, taken some time after 1879 and into the 1900s.

Claire also recently found this photograph of staff at Highfields, taken some time after 1879 and into the 1900s.