Wilderness House in Hampton was home to England's greatest gardener and landscape architect, Capability Brown, (no, not Monty Don), for nineteen years from 1764, aged 48, until his death in 1783.
Maze at Blenheim Palace, recognised as a Brown masterpiece (see map later for a little more on Hampton Court Palace Maze)
It’s no good. I can’t just let the name of the house go without first sharing a few thoughts. Was tumbleweed rolling around Hampton over 250 years ago? Was it a dust bowl? Christopher Wren’s gaff would’ve been about a hundred yards down the road, (though Wren himself died over forty years before Brown moved into Wilderness House), and Hampton Court Palace itself is only a similar distance away. It’s not the only time the word “wilderness” pops up in these Little Histories incidentally, with St. James’ church in Hampton Hill being described in the 1860s as “a barn of a church in a wilderness of a parish", helping to illustrate how, in the late 1700s and well into the 1800s, (and presumably earlier), the parts of S.W. London I’ve been cycling around were pretty remote. Blackmore‘s purchase of 16 acres of land for horticulture along with Gomer House in Teddington in 1860 gives another insight into the abundance of space and land at the time. As does the existence of an enormous cabbage patch where Twickenham rugby stadium now stands, the whiff of which we know drove Tennyson to up sticks from his home a mile down the road, and flee to the Isle of Wight. It’s interesting to contemplate how different things were not that long ago.
Born Lancelot Brown in Kirkharle in Northumberland in 1715–16, (despite the plaque, there seems to be some doubt, maybe he was born at the end of one year into the start of the next; or it was a very long labour), later in life he picked up the nickname “Capability" because he would tell clients that their property had "capability" for improvement (that old chestnut).
Brown designed over 170 parks, many of which are still with us today. From 1741 to 1751 he was head gardener for Lord Cobham at Stowe (Bucks), after which he established himself as an independent landscape architect, working on successive major commissions.
At the peak of his success, in the 1760s and 1770s, Brown had a remarkable annual turnover of £15,000, (around £1M today), and worked on over 200 estates. He would typically earn £500, (about £70,000 today), for a single commission. As an accomplished rider he was able to work quickly, taking only an hour or so on horseback to survey an estate and rough out an entire design. In 1764 he was appointed King George’s Master Gardener at Hampton Court Palace, succeeding John Greening and, as mentioned, consequently taking up residence at the Wilderness House.
Now. The topiary twiddling. In his role at Hampton Court Brown refused to sweep away William III's formal design “out of respect to himself and his profession”, but the little monkey stopped cutting the topiary into the established formal shapes, instead creating tall irregular forms – giving rise to the title of this post. Reprimanded for neglecting the gardens, Brown claimed he was introducing a more naturalistic effect. (Ha, I’ve tried that old line with my allotment).
A visual record of the Hampton Court gardens, as well as Home Park and Bushy Park, during Brown’s tenure, is provided by a large collection of watercolours made by his surveyor, John Spyers, and bought by Catherine the Great (now in the State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg). Brown planted what is now known as the Great Vine at Hampton Court, and was reported to have kept turkeys for his own use in the Wilderness to the east of the house, (each to his own). Nearby he remodelled the gardens at Richmond for George III, and assisted David Garrick with his temple to Shakespeare, building the tunnel under Hampton Court Road to join it to the rest of his estate. In 1767 Brown bought his own estate, Fenstanton Manor in Cambridgeshire, but became very attached to Wilderness House, and spent the majority of his time here until his death whilst visiting his daughter in London.
Wilderness House remained the principal Hampton Court gardener’s house until 1881, almost a hundred years after Brown’s death. Work was done to improve the building for use as a grace and favour residence, and in 1883 the first occupant moved in. The house was fitted with electricity in 1907, and its first bathroom was fitted in 1912. From 1937 to 1960 Wilderness House was occupied by the Grand Duchess Xenia of Russia, sister of Tsar Nicholas II, for whom some alterations were made; Brown’s dining room was converted to a Russian Orthodox chapel for her use. In the 1960s an extension containing a kitchen and lobby was built to the west, over the former laundry.
The house remains a residence to this day.
Front
Back
(If there’s any topiary it’s well hidden, (or long gone, possibly having been twiddled to death))
Hampton Court Maze
Though not the work of The Twiddler, it is linked to this post by its close proximity to his home. It’s the UK's oldest surviving hedge maze and was commissioned around 1700 by William III, being designed by George London and Henry Wise. Trapezoid in shape it covers about a third of an acre, and was originally planted using hornbeam, later being replanted using yew. It’s referred to as a multicursal or puzzle maze; before it’s creation unicursal or single path mazes were most popular in the UK, involving a single path, usually in a spiral, winding to a centre point. Having taken on the maze a few times in the past I can vouch for it as great fun for youngsters, though some of the advertising blurb around it claims it is known for “confusing and intriguing visitors with its seemingly numerous twists, turns and dead ends”. I reckon Buffalo Bill‘s Indians, who visited Henry Labouchère back in post 65, might disagree.
Red arrow: Wilderness House
As you can see, it's perilously close to Hampton Court Maze, the oldest surviving hedge maze in the UK. Must admit I like to imagine Brown returning home late of an evening, slightly the worse for drink, and taking several hours to find his front door.
I’m done. Before I go I might add that since “Stay at Home” became “Be Alert” there’s been a noticeable, if predictable increase in road traffic, including heavy lorries. This has made me realise, as a fair-weather cyclist, just what a charmed life I’ve been living on the roads during lockdown up to now.
Off for a cup of tea.
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