Garden of the Week
Galanthophile John Noakes is at pains to point out that his stunning winter garden isn’t just about snowdrops!
When asked about snowdrops, John Noakes is very honest. “I do realise the folly of all this, you know,” he says. “I certainly didn’t set out to be a galanthophile. But I’m afraid I’m rather caught up in it all now!”
By caught up, John is referring to the astonishing amount of snowdrops in his Hertfordshire garden – approaching 80 different varieties, a number only curtailed by simple lack of space.
John and his wife Margaret moved into their listed property, a gorgeous thatched cottage dating back to the 1600s, 22 years ago. “The garden was a total mess,” recalls John. “There were some old decaying trees, which we got rid of, though we kept some black poplars, which are a native plant but now rarely seen in the countryside. We also kept an ancient damson and an old magnolia. But other than that we started from scratch.”
There was no masterplan for the garden, although John was a member of the Alpine Gardens Society and through friends there started his planting scheme. “It was happenstance,” he says, “though I became friends with Wol Staines, whose nursery sold only snowdrops, and it started from there...”
Today this is a genuine yearround garden, but it’s in the winter that it really comes into its own.
Snowdrops aside, it features rich carpets of aconites and cyclamen, interspersed with daphne
(the scent of ’Jacqueline Postill’ is a particular favourite), irises and hellebores. Adding structure and form are a variety of shrubs, including cornus, witch hazel, fragrant winter honeysuckle and Cercis siliquastrum, or Judas tree.
But it is for the snowdrops that the garden has developed a
reputation. “I have to admit they are wonderful at this time of year. I try to go out every day in winter when they start to appear because they really do lift the spirits,” says John. “But I’d hate for anyone to think it’s just a snowdrop garden because there is so much else, and we like to have interest all year round.
“So the winter bulbs will soon give way to camassias, later irises and fritillaries. I also plant some Tulipa sprengeri through the lawn. They’re almost extinct in the wild but they have the most wonderful blood-red flowers and really put on quite a show.
“Although we don’t grow a lot of herbaceous plants each summer, we have a lot of lovely clematis. One grows up the old damson tree and we have a few obelisks that support clematis, too. And there are a few roses, clumps of Californian poppies and plants such as eryngium ‘Miss Willmott’s Ghost’ dotted around.”
An old moat, which belongs to a neighbour, runs around part of the property, providing added interest and a source of water for wildlife.
The garden has a very chalky soil, being situated just off the Chilterns, so ericaceous plants tend not to thrive. That the trusty old inherited magnolia (“not the most spectacular in the world but it’s pretty nonetheless”) continues to survive happily remains a source of quite some surprise.
To get around the soil issue, John also plants extensively in containers, favouring puncheon barrels, in which he can be more flexible in terms of soil. “The beauty of containers is you can change the pH of your soil, or the drainage, to accommodate the whims of your plants. It’s also nice as I get older not to have to bend down so far!”
Margaret leaves most of the gardening to John but she is nonetheless also very keen on snowdrops. Far from keeping his snowdrop obsession in check, she
actively encourages John (“she bullies me!”) to get more varieties. “Perhaps we keep each other in check sometimes,” smiles John. “With the price of some snowdrops fetching up to £40 or £50 each, you have to!”
Despite the sometimes exorbitant price of snowdrops, one of the aspects that appeals to John the most is how easy they are to grow.
“It’s just a question of letting them multiply, splitting up clumps and moving them to where you want them. Even the really interesting varieties, that might look very delicate, are quite self-sufficient.”
The garden – ordinarily – is open to visitors in winter. “We normally open up the garden through the NGS – it’s nice to cheer people up in winter time when it’s perhaps a bit cold or gloomy. The irony, of course, is that this year, of all years, when people need cheering up more than ever, we are not able to do it.”
John’s philosophy is to see the garden as a continuum that never stops. “Plants die off but they come back again. Bulbs can survive the most adverse conditions. Different plants may come and go but the garden and its ecosystem remain.”