The grotto.

I would like to have a room, an empty room.

In a spring day with no sun, I would work hard following Mr. John Serle’s instructions to transform my empty room in a grotto.

Mr. John Serle was the gardener and the invaluable help of Mr. Alexander Pope, the English poet and gardener who lived near London at the beginning of the 18th century. The success of his translation of Homer's The Iliad into English couplets allowed him to settle in a leased property in Twickenham around 1719. He built a three-storey Palladian villa overlooking the Thames and created a garden on the other side of the road, the Hampton Court - London highway. He arranged a subterranean passage to link the villa to the garden and transformed it into a fancy grotto. In his correspondence, he proudly informed his friends about developments:

Pope to Blount, June 2, 1725

“…I have put the last hand to my works of this kind, in happily finishing the subterraneous way and grotto … When you shut the doors of this grotto it becomes on the instant, from a luminous room a Camera obscura on the walls of which all the objects of the river, hills, woods, and boats are forming a moving picture in their visible radiations; …It is finished with shells interspersed with pieces of looking-glass in angular forms; and in the ceiling is a star of the same material, at which when a lamp, of an orbicular figure of thin alabaster, is hung in the middles, a thousand pointed rays glitter, and are reflected over the place.” (vol.6)

Swift to Pope, Sept. 29, 1725

“…I have been told by Mr. Ford of your great achievements in building and planting, and especially of you subterranean passage to your garden, whereby you turned a blunder into a beauty, which is a piece of Ars Poetica.” (vol.7)

Pope to Fortescue London, March 22, 1734-5

“…My garden, however, is in good condition and promises fruits not too early. I’m building a stone obelisk, making two new ovens and stoves, and a hot-house for ananas, of which I hope you will taste this year. “ (vol.9)

Pope to Swift London March 25, 1736

“…Yet my house is enlarged, and the gardens extend and flourish, as knowing nothing of the guests they have lost. I have more fruit-trees and kitchen-garden than you have any thought of: may, I have good melons and pineapples of my own growth. I am as much a better gardener, as I am a worse poet, then when you saw me; but gardening is near akin to philosophy, for Tully says, Agricultura proxima sapientiae.” (vol.7)

Pope to Sir Hans Sloane, Twickenham, March 30, 1742

“Sir, I am extremely obliged to you for your intended kindness of furnishing my grotto with that surprising natural curiosity, which indeed I have ardently sought some time.” (vol.9)

Pope to Warbourton Twitenam, March 1743

“…I have lived much by myself of late, partly through ill-health, and partly to amuse myself with little improvements in my garden and house, to which possibly I shall, if I live, be soon more confined..” (vol.9)

The melancholy tone of the last letter does not stifle his pleasure and interest in gardening. Pope was part of a group of noble patrons and artists who were creating the new landscaped garden: asymmetry, surprise and variety, clumps of trees, winding paths and unexpected panoramic views, statues, urns and inscriptions to recall the high moral values of the classical world that inspired their life and art. 

The Grotto was a place of retirement and inspiration and, in his last years, a museum for his minerals. I quote Mr. John Serle, who described the incredible collections of minerals in the only official guide to the garden published in 1745, one year after Mr. Alexander Pope’s death:

“… Several large piece of fine Crystal intermix’d with Yellow Mundic;…Silver Ore from the mines of Mexico, …petrified wood, Brazil pebbles, Egyptian pebbles and blood-stones from Mr. Brisden... Some large clumps of Amethyst and several pieces of White Spar from the Duchess of Cleveland. …Many pieces of corals…One Cornish diamond, from the Prince’s Mine in Cornwall…”

I would like to have a room, an empty room with heaps of shells, glasses, stones, ores, minerals, gems, stalactites, crystals, marbles, alabaster and amethysts scattered on the floor, and an inspired poet with a cup of tea in his hand entering the door.



Further reading:
Alexander Pope, The works of Alexander Pope : including several hundred unpublished letters and other new materials, London 1841 - different volumes from Internet Archive  http://www.archive.org

John Serle, A plan of Mr. Pope's garden: as it was left at his death, with a plan and perspective view of the grotto, Garland Publishing Inc. New York London 1982.

Photos:
Travelinagarden
except The Grotto as drawn by John Serle in 1745 (from The Twickenham Museum)

Links:
The official site of The Twickenham Museum: 

http://www.twickenham-museum.org.uk

The lumber room - Saki

The gooseberry garden is abruptly introduced at the beginning of this short story by the nameless aunt. Punished for having put a frog in his milk bowl during breakfast, Nicholas cannot enter into it. I imagine this square garden with the clipped gooseberry shrubs lined up along the perimeter, with round translucent green berries and small spring-green leaves that hide sharp spines. The compact rows are interrupted just in proximity of the two doors that allow the entrance into the garden. These are flanked by large ball of glossy-green buxus and framed by scented roses and clematis. Unrestrained plants grow inside the geometric area disturbing the ordered perspective. Over grown artichokes, excessive raspberry canes and other fruit bushes create a screen around this “…forbidden paradise.” They hide beds of vegetables, maybe zucchini, spinach and carrots or potatoes and tomatoes or salads, onions and abundant flowers. Buzzing bees, annoying flies and lonely butterflies are not mentioned, nor is the smell of the earth and the grass, or the drip of water in the watering can. Hector Hugh Munro, the British novelist known by the pen-name Saki, does not linger on this picture full of life, as Nicholas does not attempt to enter into the forbidden garden but twice, after the departure of his cousins and younger brother for an afternoon expedition to Jagborough cove. He has other plans. Finally, when he is sure that the aunt alarmed by his sorties is firmly settled in the garden occupied in “… trivial gardening operations”, Nicholas takes a key and enters into a place “… carefully sealed from youthful eyes and concerning which no questions were ever answered”: the lumber-room. 

The contrast between the garden and the room is striking: outside life flows in the sunshine while the large room is dimly lighted, damp and maybe cold. But, “… it came up to his expectations.” Beautiful and useless objects, banished from the house to prevent their damaging, lie forgotten in the dust. In his imaginative mind, these wonders recall exotic unknown worlds he can create to his fancy: Indian hangings with hunting scenes, “… twisted candlesticks in the shape of snakes, and a teapot fashioned like a china duck..”, ”… little brass figures, hump-necked bulls, and peacocks and goblins delightful to see and to handle…” A large anonymous square book “… full of coloured pictures of birds.” The gooseberry garden becomes a “…stale delight, a mere material pleasure” compared to this “…unknown land”.

His aunt’s shrieks catch his attention, and he leaves the secret room for the garden. She is calling for help: she slipped in the rain-water tank while she was looking for him, and now she is not able to get out of it. Nicholas’s revenge is firm but measured. And sweet, as he skillfully turns against her all those arguments she usually says to control and scare the children. So, he cannot fetch the ladder to help her because he is an obedient and respectful child who has been told not to enter the garden. Besides, her strange voice awakes his suspicions: is the Evil One hidden in the garden to tempt him? He promptly proves his assertion with a trick, then, satisfied, leaves the garden and the task to rescue the angry woman to a maid who is looking for parsley. 

It is easy to love this brave child who challenges the adult world to test its consistency and follow his fantasies. He does not dispute rules and punishments, but this does not prevent him to reason about the “older, wiser and better people”. He observes them concluding with “childish discernment” that they make mistakes, they are unfair and they contradict themselves. But he is a child. He lives the present. The aunt, actually his cousins’ aunt but with extended educational powers on him too, was inspired by the real author’s aunt. She exerts a tyrannical authority that reveals her hypocrisy and unfair character. She has no love and is not able to understand or communicate with these children. She banished beauty, fancy and enjoyment from their lives and with perverse pleasure restraints their education to absurd punishments and prohibitions.

The end of the day is the epilogue of the short story. They gather around the table for the tea in a cold atmosphere and “in a fearsome silence.” His aunt is still angry for the fall in the water-tank and the other children complain a disastrous expedition to the cove. Nicholas does not care. He is absorbed in the magic world he discovered behind the door, in a hunting scene with hounds, wolves and a wounded stag.

This is the only real world for a child and certainly the only impossible world for adults.

This short story is included in the collection “Beasts and Super-Beasts”, published for the first time in 1914. I am currently searching this book, I hope to find more about the gooseberry garden in the other 36 short stories.

Photos:
Travelinagarden.