Get Sleepy is a production of Slumber Studios and is made possible thanks to the generous support of our sponsors and premium members.
If you'd like to listen ad-free and access weekly bonus episodes, extra long stories and our entire back catalogue, you can try out premium free for seven days by following the link in the episode notes.
Now, a quick word from our sponsors...
This episode is brought to you by LifeLock.
Between two-factor authentication, strong passwords and a VPN, you try to be in control of how your info is protected.
But many other places also have it, and they might not be as careful.
That's why LifeLock monitors hundreds of millions of data points a second for threats.
If your identity is stolen, they'll fix it, guaranteed, or your money back.
Save up to 40% your first year.
Visit LifeLock.com slash podcast for 40% off.
Terms apply.
I am so excited for the spa day.
Candles lit.
Music on.
Hot tub warm and ready.
And then my chronic hives come back.
Again, in the middle of my spa day.
What a wet blanket.
Looks like another spell of itchy red skin.
If you have chronic spontaneous urticaria or CSU, there is a different treatment option.
Hives during my next spa day?
Not if I can help it.
Learn more at treatmyhives.com.
Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy.
As always, I'm your host, Thomas.
I'm so glad you've joined me for tonight's sleepy tale as we explore the beauty of an English landscape garden.
It's a style that was made fashionable in 18th century England organic and informal, like a painting brought to life.
We'll learn about the history of this type of design as we imagine ourselves in just such a garden.
Thank you to Joe for writing this one.
Visiting gardens like those described in tonight's story is one of those classic British days out, especially on a nice sunny day.
So it was fun to record it and learn a bit of history about English landscape gardens for myself.
Now, This is one of those beautiful moments where there's nowhere to be and nothing to do.
Move into whatever position feels most comfortable to you and close your eyes.
I'd like you to imagine a gorgeous flower with its soft, sweet petals right beneath your nose.
As you breathe in, you take in its fragrance and absorb the flower's beauty.
At the end of the inhale, pause for a moment and hold the breath Then breathe out slowly.
Let's try that again.
Breathe in the scent of the flower.
Hold the breath for a moment.
Then release it like you're blowing out a candle.
Enjoy the sensation of just letting go.
And let's finish by noticing the body and mind and observing any changes that might have taken place.
Appreciate where the mind is calmer and more present, where the muscles have softened and the body feels comfortable.
Now, we're ready to begin our story and to learn about the history of the English Landscape Garden.
Picture yourself sitting on a comfortable outdoor bench in the morning sunshine.
Your bench is at the top of a huge grassy slope and, as such, it offers views far across the countryside.
You see sheep grazing on a distant hilltop around what look like ancient ruins illuminated in the sunlight.
Between you and the hill, there's a blue-green river curving elegantly across the land.
Stretching across it is a stone bridge with arches underneath it.
Raised on pillars, the bridge looks as if it's risen up from the water.
Just a few trees decorate the water side.
They've been planted sparsely, allowing each one of them to show off, so to speak.
Taking center stage is a weeping willow, its lime-green leaves glinting in the sunshine.
You're half a mile or more from the tree and river, But it's as if you can see every tiny detail.
You can make out the changes in the colors of the water and see each flicker of sunlight.
The river is so calm and still.
The only current seems to come from the breeze.
The morning air barely tickles its surface, causing only the most delicate ripples in the water.
The fragrance of the river is carried on the air and blended with the freshness of the morning breeze.
There's also the scent of sweet, blooming flowers, freshly cut grass, and woody tree bark.
The breeze is blowing towards you.
It flows uphill, wafting through your clothes.
You breathe in the fragrances of the countryside, your senses refreshed by the great outdoors.
The magnificent grounds that you look out on now are an example of an English landscape garden.
This is a style of garden architecture and design that emerged in the 18th century.
Sometimes referred to simply as the English Garden, it's often associated with grand country houses.
Wealthy families would retreat to their homes in the countryside whenever they grew tired of life in the city.
Though this kind of garden originated in England, it spread quickly across Europe, becoming the leading style of park and garden.
By the end of the century, it had reached as far as Russia, to the grounds of Pavlovsk Palace in St.
Petersburg.
But what was an English landscape garden exactly, and why did it appeal to the European elite?
To understand this, First let's take a look at how it differed from the gardens that came before it.
A century prior, in the 1600s, the dominant style was the French formal gardens.
We can find the perfect example of this design near Paris, at the Palace of Versailles.
This was the home of King Louis XIV, a monarch famous for his decadence and flair.
The palace is as grand as it's possible to imagine.
Yet, somehow, the grounds are even more impressive.
Imagine that you have a bird's eye view over the palace and its gardens.
This way, you'll gain an understanding of the order and formality of its designs.
The palace is flanked by decorative gardens with neatly cut lawns, which encircle fountains.
Enclosed flowerbeds and different shades of gravel create intricate patterns that dazzle in the sunlight.
There are tightly clipped bushes called topiary, and low hedges that form borders.
In French, these gardens are known as broderies, because they create patterns that look like embroidery.
In front of the palace are two pools of water, identically shaped and perfectly symmetrical.
Steps below them lead to a massive fountain, and then another set of matching gardens.
Bushes have been pruned into uniform rows, while hedges and pathways form perfectly straight lines.
Further from the palace, there's a tree-flanked avenue that leads out to a grand canal.
The gardens of Versailles were meant to demonstrate that their owner was a man of immense power.
King Louis had brought order to the unruly world outdoors.
He was a man so powerful that he could control even nature.
Versailles became a model for gardens across Europe, as the rich and powerful sought to follow the king's example.
Throughout the 17th century, the French formal style was replicated in the gardens of the grandest houses.
Then, in the 18th century, a new style began to emerge.
The English landscape garden was less controlled than its predecessor.
Nature was allowed the freedom to dominate.
The revolutionary style was created by William Kent, who was born in Bridlington, East Yorkshire, in 1685.
He would live in Italy for a decade, training and working as a painter.
Kent was greatly influenced by what he'd seen in Italy, particularly the paintings of romanticized landscapes.
He took inspiration from painters of the time, like the Italian landscape artist Salvatore Rosa.
In Rosa's work, people seemed unimportant as the focus was on the natural setting.
He emphasized the wildness of the landscape.
It was raw, untamed, and beautifully unpredictable.
Equally important were French contemporaries Claude Lorrain and Nicolas Poussin.
Like Rosa, they put nature at the center of their paintings, though their scenes were more idealized.
Lorrain and Poussin painted a different kind of landscape. a picturesque ideal of the natural world.
These were the kinds of scenes that Kent wanted to recreate, though not as a painter, but as a landscape architect.
Next to his counterparts, he lacked skills and knowledge.
Yet perhaps it's because of this that he was so successful.
Kent seemed able to work with the natural landscape.
He didn't keep it at bay like so many before him.
Kent's work was remarkable.
He was capable of adding touches to gardens that transformed them completely.
After the rigidity of the French formal garden, the work of William Kent must have seemed revolutionary.
In Kent's garden, nature had been liberated.
Or at least, that's how it appeared once he'd worked his magic.
Kent's garden was a place of rolling lawns, where old stone bridges crossed streams and Solitary trees were given the space to flourish, and dense woodlands gave way to quaint little groves.
Occasionally, there were buildings known as ornamental follies, styles of architecture that idealized the past.
Classical temples echoed ancient Greece and Rome, while Gothic ruins seemed charmingly medieval.
One of the finest examples of William Kent's work is at Rowsham House in Oxfordshire, England.
Not only was Kent employed to reshape the gardens, But he also remodeled much of the house.
Though it isn't the house that draws visitors today.
They come to explore the picturesque grounds.
The estate still belongs to the family who hired Kent. and it's much as it was in the 1740s.
Now, imagine yourself arriving at Rowsham.
You'll notice that there are multiple ways of entering the grounds and none seem obvious or particularly grand.
You're probably struck by the lack of formality.
You almost feel as if you're sneaking in, as you choose a route along the winding gravel pathway.
You walk beneath a canopy of light green leaves, expertly pruned, which sparkle in the sunlight.
The sound of birdsong echoes through the trees, a high-pitched melody above the rustling of leaves.
Canopies sway in a gentle sweeping motion, going to and fro in a smooth and steady rhythm.
The trees act as a cushion for the sound, keeping out the noise of the outside world.
This gives the impression of a whole other realm beneath the treeline, with its own private soundscape.
You could easily forget where you are as you hear your footsteps crunch across gravel.
You are all too absorbed in the patterns of sunlight which dance across the shaded ground.
All in all, it's wonderfully peaceful and far more understated than you might have expected.
It's almost a surprise when you exit the pathway and stumble across an unexpected view of the mansion.
Compared to the Garden of Versailles, this entrance at Rowsham couldn't be more different.
One might assume that it's completely unplanned, but actually it's been designed to appear that way.
Every part of the garden has been carefully manipulated, made to appear as if it's natural and organic.
Each new viewpoint is like a scene from a painting designed to showcase the very best of the countryside.
From the road, you noted a magnificent green avenue sloping down in front of the house.
Purposely built on the steep slope of a hill, it creates the illusion of an endless grassy carpet.
Once you're at the house, you gaze across the front lawn to a cluster of trees and the hills beyond them.
Old ruins are bathed in sunlight, the crowning jewel of the green hilltop.
It is rural England at its most romantic. which is exactly what its architect intended.
The ruined structure appears medieval, but is actually an 18th century folly, an ornamental ruin known as the Eyecatcher.
Other statues and structures within the grounds represent the majesty of ancient civilizations.
They're dotted sparsely around the vast estate, and positioned in places where they draw the eye.
A statue of a gladiator leans on his side at the center of a terrace.
On a stand between the trees is the Roman goddess Venus, who overlooks a veil with pools of water.
Then there's the statue of Antinous, the lover of the Roman emperor Hadrian.
It's been expertly placed at the end of an avenue, which is lined with trees on both sides.
Framed by evergreens, the sculpture of the handsome man is the center of attention.
It stands at the top of a slope beyond the tree line.
The stone is illuminated by the daylight, which only makes it more striking among the trees.
Views like this bring drama to the garden.
A stroll through the grounds feels like a performance on a natural stage upon gorgeous sets designed by William Kent.
In the French formal garden, nature was controlled.
In a sense, the garden performed for the visitor.
But in Kent's garden, the opposite is true.
As you wander through the grounds, you animate the landscape.
There's a feeling of harmony between you and nature, between the house and gardens and the landscape as a whole.
Key to this is Kent's use of ha-ha's, an architectural innovation in the 18th century.
Also known as a sunken ditch.
The ha-ha is essentially a hidden border.
It acts like a wall keeping animals from crossing over, but it doesn't interrupt views of the landscape.
The sunken ditch creates an optical illusion, one that often results in surprise.
The Haha takes its name from the expressions of wonder that people made when they came across it.
It's thanks to these hidden walls that the views at Ralsham feel so free and unrestricted.
You see animals trees, endless rolling hills and the curve of the River Cherwell, which flows across the county.
Rousham is an example of the new type of garden that would soon become common across the continent.
Though William Kent doesn't get all the credit, part must be given to his predecessor, Charles Bridgman.
Bridgman worked here until around 1738, when Kent was brought in to enhance it further.
It was Bridgeman who first laid out the gardens forming twisting pathways beneath the canopies of trees.
He made a number of pools, including cascades and fountains, like those that the goddess Venus would later look out on.
Though he's sometimes overlooked, Charles Bridgman was another pioneer.
He played a key part in creating the English Garden as royal gardener to King George II.
Among his achievements were reshaping the Serpentine in London's Hyde Park.
He dammed the River Westbourne, which fed the serpentine, creating an artificial lake that still looked like a river.
Not far away, in Kensington Gardens, Bridgman had a large pond dug in the center of the grounds.
The pond took center stage as the focal point from the house, drawing the eye from surrounding pathways.
Bridgman led the way.
He was the first to move away from rigidity and precision to the more natural aesthetic that was becoming popular.
In his work at royal palaces such as Hampton Court, bridgemen sought to maintain and modernize the landscape.
Instead of neat avenues and maze-like knot gardens, the grounds were opened out to appear wilder and more liberated.
One of Bridgman's best-known works is Stowe Gardens in the county of Buckinghamshire.
He worked on the estate from 1711 alongside the architect Sir John Vambra.
Bridgman planted trees along the south front of the building, creating pathways where one might stroll around the garden.
He also had ponds dug out in different shapes and sizes, including a lake in the shape of an octagon.
Bridgman used the ha-ha to keep animals from the garden without obstructing the view.
One could look out from the house to see the deer park and farmland in what must have seemed like a never-ending landscape.
At Stowe, a number of gardeners would make their mark upon the landscape.
William Kent himself made a significant contribution between 1730 and 1748.
At the time, Lord Cobham had employed the landscape artist because he wanted an estate that impressed.
And Kent, of course, was happy to deliver, peppering the landscape with classical buildings and statues.
His works at Stowe include the Temple of Venus, a yellowstone facade lined with archways.
The building stands on a low, grassy hillock.
At the front, a doorway sits between two sleek pillars under a domed ceiling that's been beautifully coffered.
Marble busts sit in decorative archways, including Queen Cleopatra and the Roman Emperor Vespasian.
From their archways, the statues look out across the surface of the 11-acre lake.
More faces are sculpted at the edge of a river, where Kent designed the Temple of British Worthies.
Queen Elizabeth I and William Shakespeare are among the 16 faces carved from stone.
Nearby is the Temple of Ancient Virtue in a section of the garden called the Elysian Fields.
To the Greeks, the Elysian Fields were a place of immense natural beauty, a realm of sunlit meadows and fresh woodland air.
It's a fitting name for Kent's gardens which are accessed through an archway flanked by statues of the Muses.
The Shell Bridge is another addition, crossing the Worthies River.
The bridge is decorated with seashells and has five low arches that reflect on the water.
Similar to this is the Pebble Alcove, a seating area by the octagonal lake.
It features a mosaic of the family's coat of arms, including the fitting motto How Beautiful Are Thy Temples.
The last structure that Kent worked on at Stowe wasn't a temple, but an entertainment venue.
Inside the grotto there are many pavilions and a fountain with a statue of Venus rising up from her bath.
The temples and statues that Kent installed acted like props on nature's stage.
They enhanced the beauty of what bridgemen had created, resulting in a garden that seemed natural yet magnificent.
Previously, the rich had asserted their authority by forcing the landscape into straight paths and patterns.
Now, they showed it by eliminating boundaries, replacing order with harmony and continuity.
Looking out from the house at such breathtaking views, it must have seemed to Lord Cobham that his lands were endless.
However, the grounds at Stowe were far from finished when Kent passed away in 1748.
The head gardener at the time was another pioneer, a man whose influence was profound and far-reaching.
Lancelot Brown is thought by some to be the greatest gardener that England produced.
He was commonly known as Capability Brown because he often spoke to clients of their property's capability for improvement.
Brown made his name at Stowe, where he worked for a decade.
Under Kent's supervision he formed the Grecian Valley, a lush sloping meadow partly covered in woodland.
Mostly, when gardeners wanted to create a new woodland, trees would be planted as saplings.
Property owners would then wait for decades until the saplings grew into trees and forests.
Brown decided to transplant trees instead, moving fully grown species of elm and lime.
This meant that the owner didn't have to wait, as views were improved with immediate effect.
Transplanting trees was a bold technique.
It was a difficult process, requiring delicacy and care.
Trees had to be kept healthy while being pulled from the ground and were moved by a horse and cart before being replanted.
For Brown, Stowe was somewhat of a training ground.
He experimented with the techniques that he'd later become known for.
What's more, Lord Cobham allowed him to take on freelance projects transforming the grounds of his friend's grand estates.
With his new style of landscapes and a growing portfolio, Brown was soon the aristocracy's most in-demand gardener.
He would go on to design the parks of more than 170 of Britain's fine houses.
Examples of his work still survive today at sites like Blenheim Palace, the birthplace of Winston Churchill.
One of Brown's most impressive projects is at Croom Court, which was then the property of the 6th Earl of Coventry.
The Earl was 28 years old when he inherited Croom.
He was relatively young and modern in his ways.
So he commissioned Brown to update his estate, designing a landscape befitting of his wealth and status.
The land at Croom was essentially a marsh, so this was no easy task, even for Brown.
The Earl once called his estate as hopeless a spot as any in the land.
Luckily, his gardener was an innovative thinker and formed a network of ducts to drain water from the grounds.
The wet marshy ground was channeled into a lake which Brown then had shaped to appear like a river.
Brown was not only innovative, but he was also quite daring.
He made bold choices like damming lakes and moving trees.
He even demolished the parish church and had a new one built in a more prominent position on a hilltop.
Brown enriched Kent's version of the English garden, bringing nature right up to the doorway of the house.
It was as if the building had sprouted up from the ground, as if the house were at one with the earth around it.
Capability Brown was a man with a vision.
He saw the garden as it was, but also as it could be.
He foresaw that saplings placed in the shadow of an embankment would look like a forest once they were grown.
Everything was coordinated to appear wholly organic, as if the natural world was entirely unaltered.
Yet the garden's architect had engineered each viewpoint and had mapped out the position of every tree and sapling.
Brown was professional and thorough in his dealings with clients, redesigning their grounds and then managing alterations.
He also factored in the long-term practicalities and the economics of maintenance over the years.
Wildflower meadows made grounds more productive because they produced hay that could be sold on.
Natural hedges were useful because they required less pruning and sheep could eat the grass, cutting down on labour.
All things considered, it doesn't seem surprising that Brown enjoyed such widespread popularity.
The families that had previously sought to imitate Versailles now opted for a Brownian landscape.
By the time of his passing in 1783, Brown had modernized the image of a park.
Up until then, it had been an enclosure for deer.
Now, it was a sanctuary and a place to soak up the scenery.
Brown left a legacy of vistas across the country in the parks and gardens of castles and grand houses.
Managed gardens appeared free and organic, breathtakingly grand, yet wonderfully relaxed.
Certainly Brown had made his mark on the movement, but he wouldn't be the last to naturalize the landscape.
His successor was a man named Humphrey Repton, perhaps the last great gardener of the 18th.
Reptim was an ambitious and skilled businessman, as well as a talented landscape gardener.
This was the title that he coined himself and used in the adverts that he had posted around the country.
At the time, Britain was in the early stages of what would be known as the Industrial Revolution.
Repton's wealthy clientele.
Alongside the aristocracy were industrialists and businessmen moving into new properties.
Reptim pitched on the principles of economy, convenience, and magnificence.
He understood that his clients wanted more separation between their own fine gardens and the surrounding landscape.
He also factored in the importance of women's tastes.
Watercolor paintings and scenes of pretty flowers were used to appeal to the women who lived in these great houses.
Such images were laid out in Repton's red book, something that quickly became the gardener's calling card.
His clients bought a book based on his research of their property, which contained suggestions for improvements they might make.
Books included notes on each area of the grounds, with plans and pictures.
Each one was a how-to manual.
How to Make an English Garden.
Some red books are still in existence, like the one made for the owners of Sundridge House in Kent.
This book includes suggestions such as removing a fence so that it doesn't spoil the shape of the hill and valley.
Repton also suggests the felling of some trees, splitting one vast woodland into two.
Adjoining cornfields could be converted to grass fields, creating more flow and cohesion within the valley.
This is demonstrated through watercolor drawings, which show the landscape in its unchanged state.
Through a clever use of pop-ups, one can pull back a section and reveal the garden after Repton's improvements.
In every project he aimed to create the best views, both for those looking out and for guests coming in.
He considered the symmetry and proportions of buildings and how to best work with the contours of the land.
Repton even envisioned the landscape in darkness, as seen in his book for Armley House in Yorkshire.
He notes the splendid illumination of a distant woollen mill with the yellow glow of gaslight in its windows.
We might harness the designer's imagination as we approach the end of our story.
Let's return to the scene where we began and see the garden transformed by darkness.
You are back on your bench at the top of a hill, looking out across the land beneath a star-filled sky.
The evening is warm, and the breeze is gentle.
The scent of sweet flowers seems to hang upon the air.
You take in a breath as you gaze across the landscape to where ruins on the hilltop glow silver in the moonlight.
The sheep that were grazing have gone in for the night.
They've been taken off to sleep in their warm, cozy barn.
Shifting your gaze, you look down towards the river.
The weeping willow is dazzling, as the moonlight seems to play with each and every leaf.
They almost seem to drip with liquid silver.
The river itself is veiled by moonlight, and you begin to suspect that it's actually a lake.
It's as still as the surface of a mirror, and seems to reflect every star in the sky.
You can smell the countryside all around you.
The evening air is cleansing and calming.
The breeze continues to flow gently uphill, washing over you in a series of waves.
On the breeze you catch the scent of distant honeysuckle, a plant that blooms on warm summer evenings.
The fragrance is sweet, like jasmine and vanilla.
It is heady and intoxicating. the scent of dreams.
As you sit here in the garden, you take slow, deep breaths, inhaling the essence of peace and calm.
And as you breathe out, You surrender to rest and relaxation.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you. you
