This piece of international wandering only required a short drive north, rather than a cross-channel hop.
Wrest Park lies about 12 miles north of Luton, in a part of the country you usually travel
through to go somewhere else, rather than one you'd make a destination. The house and gardens were trend-setters for the French revival style popular in the 19th century, the Rothschild mansion at Waddesdon being perhaps the best known. Had Wrest's House remained furnished, and had it been in slightly more picturesque countryside, it might be just as famous. As it is, it's a bit of a backwater. And though the motorway traffic indicated that everyone was heading out to enjoy the sunshine, Wrest was so sparsely populated that faithful spaniel Mr. Darcy and I spent long interludes wandering down leafy allees alone.The site is dominated by a massive house that appears to have been snatched, intact, from the outskirts of Paris. Sold into corporate use in the first half of the 20th century (after a stint, amongst other things, as the U.S. ambassador's country house), it's now part of a scientific R&D office park. But English Heritage, which looks after house and garden, has renovated several main rooms in the mansion. Whilst there's no furniture, the opulence of the staircase hall, library and drawing room leaves no doubt that this place was built to impress. But you're not here to see the house. (And, even though dogs are allowed ... as this is the only way to access the gardens ... you feel that it's not too appropriate to linger with the pooch beneath the roccoco ceilings.)
The estate served a brief stint as the U.S. ambassador's country residence in the early 20th century, hosting a visit from Teddy Roosevelt
Strolling through the opulent French doors of an opulent French Roccoco drawing room, you emerge into the main event. A single, dramatic axis stretches away from you, dead straight, for perhaps half a mile. Nearest to you, it's a gravel path decorated on each side with symetrical parterres loaded with gaudy blooms. The gravel path continues through groupings of classical statues on plinths. Then there's a massive, flat lawn (the French image is slightly blown here by the fact that it's occupied by the local croquet club) before the line is emphasised again by a water feature that runs straight to the eye-catcher at the far end. It looks like a miniature Baroque cathedral but was, in fact, the banqueting house. Like any classical French garden, it's a giant stage set, made for people to parade around, see and be seen. You expect Louis XIV and a pack of courtiers to emerge from the bordering trees at any moment.
The place is, actually, quite reminiscent of Versailles. But on a smaller scale and without the crowds. And like Versailles, numerous tree-lined allees lead off the main axis, drawing you to other mysteries of the garden. Some are nearly as big and brash as the main axis: the outrageously ornate orangery, dripping with roccoco ornament; or the bowling lawn with its refined classical pavilion. Others are more subtle: a bathing house built as a Roman ruin that melts into a bosky dell; a circle of benches beneath pleached limes surrounding a statue of a woman on horseback; numerous "rooms" walled by high hedges with quiet seats around the edges or monuments in the middle. And, of course, lots of long, shady paths ending in monumental urns bathed in sudden sunlight (on the right day, of course).This isn't the place to come for flowers. With the exception of the bedding plants in those gaudy parterres, and one herbacious border tucked in a side garden near the house, this is a garden absent of blooms. It's about trees, bushes, architecture and long views. It's for walking, contemplation and ... no doubt the intent when it was built ... covert trysts.
While it's not my favourite style of garden, it's a great change of pace. And, thanks to the enlightened policies of English Heritage, one of the few great gardens that's actually dog friendly. Mr. Darcy and I enjoyed our little outing to France.
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