RETURNING TO ROUSHAM

While Kent’s successor, Lancelot “Capability” Brown is perhaps better known for his water engineering and giving lakes the appearance of rivers, Kent’s use of water at Rousham is much more restrained but no less effective. A rill not only injects the sound of running water into the very centre of the garden but guides the visitor to an octagonal plunge pool and onwards to a larger pond complete with bathing goddess and sly satyrs. Below this classical scene is a grotto and memorial to a previous owner’s beloved dog; both long gone but a human touch within a landscape otherwise dedicated to larger-than-life mythological figures.

At many grand properties, the landscape garden itself and its connection to William Kent would be enough to turn it into an attraction, but at Rousham the hits keep coming. There is a kitchen garden, where the vegetables for the house would have once been grown. A 12^th-century church records the sacrifices of the Cottrell-Dormer family and community of Rousham over the past century while remaining a living place of worship. The dovecote garden has beautifully shaped hedges and the titular dovecote, still serving as home to well-heeled pigeons.

Yet there are no tearooms at Rousham, no commercial trappings; the website itself says: Bring a picnic, wear comfortable shoes and it is yours for the day. And this is what many visitors do: find their own private patch of paradise to sit, eat, and lose themselves in a place that feels outside of time. MrElaineous and I did the same, setting up camp in the walled garden, with its flowers, trained apple trees, and a perfectly manicured expanse of lawn that is an ideal location for a picnic. It was sheer bliss.

I have a suspicion that Rousham will continue as it has done for centuries, remaining a place where you can escape from the constant changes of daily life and soak in the atmosphere of a bygone era. Indeed, I hope that it does—I am already looking forward to a third visit.