Spring at Belcombe Court

In conversation with Paul Weiland

“You had better come tomorrow, as the Tulips have opened in the sun”. It was the hottest day of the year, so far, in the UK. I had asked Paul Weiland if I could come and photograph his Tulips, at his glorious private garden and home, at Belcombe Court, in Bradford-on-Avon. Although I thought it might be towards the end of April, Paul messaged me to say come now before the Tulips go over! So I did.

It was forecast to be cloudy, but I couldn’t believe my eyes as I approached Belcombe Court down a narrow road, lined with dry stone walls, enough space for only one car. This part of Wiltshire is quite magical. We used to live in a village not too far away and it makes me miss living here. I have the windows down in my car, the sun is shining, dappled through the trees, the scent of wild garlic in the air. It is bordered by Limpley Stoke valley, and Freshford, with the river Avon winding along and through, from Bath to Bradford-on-Avon.

I pull up to the gates. As I get out of my car, and place my film camera around my neck, I am immediately drawn to what looks like a Spring meadow, curving around the drive. I peer through the gates at the most inviting scene. I buzz and wait for the large iron gates to let me inside. I have been to Belcombe before, when styling the flowers for a photoshoot for 8 Holland Street, for Ali Hewson’s Tulipiers. So Paul allows me to come in and walk around the garden on my own for the first few hours. I have come early, as I want to catch the first day’s Sunshine.

Under a large Sycamore tree, speckled with the sun’s early rays, is a large swathe of miniature Tulips. A mixture of species Tulips, which Grow and spread here, year on year. I do love species Tulips, they are smaller and more delicate looking, than the modern Tulips, but in fact they are far more tough. These Tulips can grow on the dry slopes of mountains or valleys, and are used to growing in harsh conditions. They are also perennial, unlike the modern Tulips which “flower blind” the next year, these are reliable, and flower year after year, naturalising and spreading through the grass as they go.

I spend some time watching and photographing the combinations of Species Tulips, Paul has grown here. The majority being Tulip Saxitalis, with its ethereal, pastel pink flowers, almost translucent with the light shining through them. Clusters of Tulip linifolia “Honky Tonk”, which despite the brash name, are gentle and ever so dainty, in a soft butter yellow with licks of blush pink. Finally the odd sprinkle of Scarlett Tulip Orphanidea and golden Cowslips.

As I find my way up the driveway, I walk under a stone archway, with a pot full of dancing purple and white Tulips and into a courtyard. I am immediately taken with the lime coloured Euphorbia wulfenii, the sun backlighting it, and making it appear more vivid than usual. Espaliered fruit trees line the Bath stone walls, and a Magnolia tree, with the gentle glow, of its rose-coloured blossom overhead.

An alcove under a curved stone staircase, in the courtyard, reveals a plant theatre of a variety of sizes of terracotta pots. They are filled with the star like, scented, silvery-white flowers of Ipheion Uniflorum planted in each one.

The walls are old and characterful, with a plethora of ferns growing through the crevices, adding to their age. There is no sound but birdsong, occasionally a blackbird perches over head and calls out a dawn chorus.

There are Topiarised Yews in a raised stone bed, cut into spirals and sculptural, formal shapes, which sit amongst blousie and gentle planting and Amelanchier trees. Tulips punctuating throughout. They are in a rich variety of colours, Rembrandt-striped variations and deep plums. I watch as they seemingly lean towards the first sunlight of the day.

As I walk to the right, two upright Yews, pruned into columns, give me the feeling of the mediterranean, I could be anywhere right now, other than Wiltshire. And with that I am lead into a Shell Grotto, created by renowned shell artist, Blott-Kerr Wilson. The inside is dark, and cool. Shells line almost every surface. I gasp as my eye follows the intricate details, and patterns created. It is like a tapestry, a piece of art. Every one gleaming gently at me.

Down some steps, and I am now looking up at the courtyard where I began. The garden is on levels here, each giving you a completely unique vista and viewpoint. I really love this aspect of the garden. On the lower level I look up to the Topiarised yew, which now seem enormous. I love the softness of the Yew Topiary in the lowest bed. So smooth, like polished stone, you feel you want to run your hands over them.

Large, dignified Terracotta pots stand on this lower level. Each alive with a mixture of Tulips. Tulip “Green Star” with its lily-flowered shape wavers in the breeze, and next to it Tulip “Spitsbergen” in white and plum.

As I turn the corner, I walk over the main lawn. It is still damp and dewy underfoot, but the light is creeping around the corner and beginning to illuminate the beds under the windows of the back of the house.

Wisteria buds are forming on the established Wisteria which grows up the walls of Belcombe court. Oh the stories it could tell.

I walk along the lawn, the gentle sound of water flowing into the Koi carp-filled pond, named The Rotunda. Horseshoe shaped, bordered by a stone arch, it is peaceful and tranquil. The only sound is the water, with a layer of bird song, like a descant accompaniment.

I find myself at the Summer House. I have been before to this part of the garden. It is quite a picture in the Summer months. Six, standard, lilac Wisteria stand underplanted by a sea of purple Alliums. A forget-me-not lined path leads you down to The Summer house. A light-filled, stone room with a vista across the grounds, through the tunnel of Amethyst planting before you.

I am pulled to a small cottage in the style of cottage orne, which makes me think of a dolls house. An idilic, stylised, 18th-century built cottage, a real reflection of the romantic period. I Imagine for a moment the excitement it might bring growing up here as a child.

I cross the estate towards the walled garden. I walk through the Yew tunnel and through the grotto, across a pebble pathway, that I later discover Paul built himself. I find myself climbing steep stairs, lined with the white flowers of wild garlic and Choisya.

As I enter the walled garden the sun is now beaming down upon the blossoming fruit trees. Underplanting them, a rich tapestry of Tulips.
The combinations of Euphorbia wulfenii, the blue of Rosemary flowers, blossoming fruit trees and jewel toned, venetian, stained glass-coloured tulips, is quite lovely.

There is something about dotting Tulips throughout herbaceous borders, that I find very effective. I follow the concrete steps, and gravel paths, all again on levels, providing different vistas, each corner I turn, and each level I ascend or descend. A parterre of tightly clipped Yew Topiary, forms the boundary between the Walled garden and the pool. The Topiary looks like rounded molars, rising from the bank. Purple glimmers of honesty and Erysimum, flutter in the gentle breeze.

A water feature creates a rhythmic sound, and stands close to a stone bench with “The Weiland Family” carved into it. I could see myself sitting here for hours on end. I turn a corner to find Tulips in Lemons and Whites, so Citrus in palette, that I can almost taste the colours.

I spot a glass house at the other end of the Walled Garden. I take a look inside. I know they grow and cultivate their own plants here. It is like a small nursery when I enter. Citrus trees, and Pelargoniums are coming to life in Terracotta pots. Another plant theatre at the entrance of the Glass house, of Tulips at various heights, in Apricots and Plums. A Rose Banksiae in full, buttery bloom concludes my walk around the garden.

As I walk down the steps, back to where I started, I see Paul standing in the Grotto, with his back to me, surrounded by his 3 beloved dogs, Doris, Wilma and Otis. I know he is a busy man, and I call his name across the courtyard, excited to talk to him about the garden. I wax lyrical about the Tulips, and flood him with questions. “But did you see the Woodland?” he says.

He immediately takes me back through the Shell Grotto, past the wild garlic lined steps, through the Yew tunnel and towards the Cottage orne.

A brook runs down from the woodland and through the estate land. Paul tells me that out of the whole garden, this is his favourite spot. The brook which runs through the woodland, comes out of the ground like a spring and down to where we are stood. There is a bench where is begins. Paul tells me there is something spiritual about the water, watching it, listening to it and following it. Something peaceful about being here. The dogs are drinking from the babble of water, and Paul tells me his grandchildren play in it on their visits.

Paul’s daughter is Hannah Weiland, of Shrimps. Family is a strong thread throughout this garden. Paul tells me he moved here 32 years ago when the children were very young. He recalls seeing Belcombe court for the first time, with his wife Caroline, a therapist. “It was a lot grander than I had thought” Paul tells me “but as I gradually put my own personality on the house, it became mine”. Paul is a successful English motion picture and television director, writer and producer. So he is a natural creative. “This was my canvas, Gardening is about editing, and it is a learning process”. Originally called Belcombe brook villa (I can see why), it was built in 1700, but altered considerably by architect, John Wood, in 1734. Paul says “I was incredibly naive, I didn’t know what I was taking on”. But you can see the care Paul has, for every inch of the property and 60 acre grounds. “.

We follow the brook to the Woodland. He calls the Woodland after his granddaughter, “Elfie’s wood”, he tells me that they even had a ceremony for it. It is quite something. I can see why Paul really wanted me to see this. Ancient Bluebells line the edges of the wild swimming lake, Paul dug this himself during the second lockdown, with help from his family. He tells me there is always a project here, always something to work on. The woodland is historic, with caves, and stone arches, some dating from the 1800s. He once took Stone from the woods and has created waterfalls with them, which now are enveloped in moss and ferns. Paul loves walking through here with the dogs, and tells me a Kingfisher shares his love of this woodland. As we look back we can see the house peering at us in the distance.

We walk back down the hill, I gush about the woodland, he tells me that the gardens and house are his life long passion. I can see that. Somewhere for his grandchildren to play. At Christmas they put fairy lights in the trees and make it into an enchanted woodland for their grandchildren. It is a special kind of magic here, not just for children but for adults too. Paul has had many milestone events here, his own daughter, Hannah Weiland and Arthur Guinness, had their wedding reception here. They turned the cottage orne into a pub for the day, even adding a custom sign “The Arthur’s arms”, designed by Matilda Goad. Paul had his 50th birthday party here, and he tells me that the speech he gave at the time about his life, was then made into a film, called the 66.

Paul manages this land with a handful of dedicated staff, including Tim Shaw and Helen Whipp.

Our way back follows a mown pathway through the meadowy grass lawn, full of Cowslips, Narcissi and Snakes head Fritillary. Paul and I discuss cut flowers. He loves cut flowers from the garden, decorating his house every week, and particularly when guests are coming. He shows me a wonderful photograph on his phone of an arrangement he did yesterday, Tulips spilling out of a tall vase, set in front of a wall, decorated with Polly Fern’s renowned, Tulip painted wallpaper.

As we reach the driveway, I am blown away by the biggest Cedar of Lebanon I think I have ever seen, Paul tells me it is 350 years old.

Belcombe court is a very special garden. It is the heart of a growing, busy family, holds a great amount of history, is very storied, artistic, yet in keeping with its natural surroundings. Although the garden is private and closed to the public, it is available for weddings. After spending the morning in this garden, I feel encapsulated in a profound sense of enchantment, in and around Belcombe court. How lucky it is to have such custodians.