It is probably as well to point out that the image of the garden with roses around the door and hollyhocks emerging from a profusion of sweet Williams growing against the stone wall of the pristine thatched cottage, complete with rosy-cheeked, bonneted girl lovingly watering her pots of pelargoniums, is just that – an image, not a reality. Helen Leach, in her book Cultivating Myths (see Further Reading), looks at the history and development of the ‘cottage garden’ and puts the concept squarely in the realm of fiction. She argues that is there is no ‘authentic’ cottage garden – and never has been – and, given the evidence, I am inclined to agree.
Her theory does not, however, detract from the fact that a particular style of garden has evolved over the years that many of us recognize as a ‘cottage garden’. Indeed, Leach rounds off her argument by saying, ‘The true cottage garden does not consist of particular plants, but of any fruit, flower or vegetable that has a constitution suited to your particular locality.’ And it is the combination of fruit, flower or vegetable, artfully arranged and mingled, that to my mind is the thing that sets a cottage garden apart from any other type of garden. In addition, the type of garden that might be designated ‘cottage’ is, in effect, disorganized formality. By this I mean that plants – especially ornamentals – are often arranged in quite an ad hoc way, but are nevertheless constrained within strict boundaries. This can lead to a dishevelled veneer; but look behind the chaos and you will see walls, hedges and paths creating definite boundaries.
So, myths and theories aside, I have put together two versions of my vision of a cottage garden border, complete with fruit, flowers and herbs. (They do not include vegetables, which I have reserved for another design.) The first is for a large border, and the second for an ‘island’ bed.