Myth and magic combine at the ancient Bishop’s Palace in Wells where a tapestry of rich planting fills the gardens and surrounds the spring-fed moats, presided over by an infamous figure from folklore
WORDS JEAN VERNON PHOTOGRAPHS HEATHER EDWARDS
History has moulded and shaped the incredible, richly planted gardens of The Bishop’s Palace in Wells. This is a garden steeped in folklore with a history of wars, revolutions, murder and even dragons enveloped within its majestic stone walls in the shadow of the most extraordinary Gothic cathedral in the UK.
Cross the drawbridge over the moat and pass through the Gate House into the garden. A sense of historical wonder surrounds you. It’s like walking into a different dimension; literally stepping back in time. The palace itself dates back to 1206, the chapel having been constructed with the Great Hall in the 1270s, and the North Wing and fortifications, including the moat, completed around 1340.
Over the course of 800 years, resident bishops have shaped and changed the garden. A formal croquet lawn hugs the back of the palace, the residence of the current Bishop of Bath and Wells, The Rt Rev Michael Beasley. Towering above it is a huge black walnut (Juglans nigra), just one of the sentinel-like trees within the garden. Many were planted in 1824 by Bishop Law (1824-1845) in the picturesque style that he strived to establish during his time as bishop here. He remodelled the walls from the ruined Great Hall as a backdrop to the garden. “He didn’t have to build pretend ruins and follies – he had them already!” explains James Cross, who has been head gardener here for nearly 20 years.
“We’ve planted a lot of replacement trees over the years,” says James. “Now, when we plant new trees, we need to future proof them so that they are ready for climate change: hotter drier summers and much wetter winters.” Other magnificent specimen trees include a huge Chinese tulip tree (Liriodendron tulipifera), foxglove trees (Paulownia tomentosa), Indian bean tree (Catalpa bignonioides) and two ancient mulberries (Morus nigra).
When James took over the garden in 2004, it was a veritable blank canvas. “It was mostly lawn really,” he recalls. “There was the odd narrow bed against some of the walls, with a limited range of plants. There wasn’t much archive material, so we had to reimagine it for the 21st century. We developed and planted it in a way we thought visitors would like to see; a way we hoped would keep
