Gardens: A century-old water garden combined Japanese style with Scottish elements before it became fashionable

On the last day of September, one of the hottest days of the year, there’s the scent of strawberries in the air: like the weather, most unseasonal. Hugh Seymour points to the paper-thin, delicately pinkish-cream leaves of the Cercidiphyllum japonicum that’s turning autumnal above us: its nickname is the candyfloss tree.

“Catch its scent on the breeze,” he says, “and you can quite see why.”

Every so often a lazy drift of leaves rides the breeze into the burn. We watch them collect at the edges of a little pool beneath the nearest of a sequence of miniature falls in this lush, hidden valley in the Borders.

The Seymour family’s Japanese Water Garden lies just down from Stobo Castle, the mock-baronial mansion that today is home to the region’s most exclusive health spa. The Seymours sold the castle 35 years ago, but retained the Home Farm and the policies – including an attractive artificial lake stocked with trout – all of which were purchased by Leo Seymour in 1971.

The water garden, designed and constructed at a cost of £10,000, was completed in 1913.

“Labour and materials were plentiful and cheap before the First World War,” Hugh says. “In today’s money £10,000 would be something over a million, and I’d be very surprised if you could produce a garden like this for such a price now.”

The Seymours see themselves as caretakers of the garden, which lies in a dell beneath the Home Farm. Apart from cutting a couple of new paths and vistas they haven’t radically changed things. They’ve put in a new azalea grove and plenty of spring bulbs – although the mice got most of last year’s planting. That aside, they are grateful to live with the legacy of one man’s vision - turn-of-the-last-century Test cricketer Hylton Philipson, who fell in love with Japan on his way back from a tour of Australia and engaged local landscape architect Edward White to help him realise his dream on the estate, which at that time he owned.

The main stream and many little rills that everywhere tumble over rock steps or lap against stepping stones are fed by an impressive man-made waterfall at the head of the valley. You can look down on the garden from the white wooden bridge behind the falls. Before you is a vista of rhododendrons and azaleas set off by towering sycamore, chestnut and beech, myriad smaller maples, and conifers such as silver and Douglas fir.

In spring, the azaleas and rhododendrons draw crowds; in summer the garden’s only rose, the Rosa Moyesii, from China, takes over; but in autumn, when the Moyesii’s striking hips turn deep red and the changing bronzes, coppers and golds of the tree canopy are set off by conifers, steadfastly perpendicular and green, this hidden gem shows a different side.

“It’s all about the light,” says Georgina, explaining that for the ultimate effect, you need to be down in the valley itself, looking up through the burnished leaves as they catch the sun. “Every morning or afternoon, is different,” she says. “We come here at least twice a day [it’s Splodge, their four-year-old spaniel’s favourite place]. We see it in all its moods.”

“The real joy of the garden is its canopy,” agrees Hugh. “It’s very sheltered here, and so quiet, apart from the sound of running water, and the birdsong – you forget about the outside world. People are always suggesting that we should thin out the foliage to let in more light. But we like a bit of jungle.”

Several rock-stepped paths lead down from the lake, beside the falls. At the foot of the drop, apparently content in the constant spray, a stooped, moss-clad and magical-looking yew makes a natural shelter at the water’s edge. Beside the path, the 6ft Himalayan lily, Cardiocrinum giganteum, shows off its bulbous buds. Further on, the striking giant rhubarb, Gunnera manicata, has made the most of the damp and shady conditions.

For a proper sense of the garden from the valley, follow the stream and its sister rills down, crossing from bank to bank on stepping stones and little wooden bridges, past clumps of bamboo and rowan, banks of rhododendron and azalea and spreading maples. Stone lanterns are set at strategic points along the banks, and a Japanese tea house looks out across the water. Finally, at the lower end of the garden, you reach an arched bridge. When the original had to be replaced five years ago a local craftsman took on its construction, following traditional Japanese methods with wooden pegs instead of nails.

From here the view up to the waterfall is as tranquil and timeless as a painting. The stream, framed by overhanging maples, hardly seems to move; the little rapids that punctuate its course are mere interruptions in a surface that, this balmy afternoon, is almost glassy. The afternoons, Georgina says, are the best time for reflections.

To one side, Enkianthus campanulatus is turning a gentle yellow. To the other, Disanthus cercidifolius has already turned – a deep, translucent red. Rowans are brilliant, burnished rust, although there are few berries this year. Cotoneaster and yew berries, by contrast, are everywhere. As for the Spanish chestnuts – like all the towering trees in this sheltered valley, they turn at the crown first, with exposure to frost – a rich gold is working its way downwards.

“We’ve noticed a lot of leaves drying out and shrivelling early this year,” says Hugh, who blames an excessively wet summer. Last winter’s big freeze was also a challenge. “The berberis took a hammering, but it’s coming again,” Georgina explains, pointing to the only bald patch in the garden. They had snow here from early November until the end of January, but suffered surprisingly little tree damage.

“After 100 years, many of our trees are over 100ft tall,” Hugh says, “so to have one of them crashing down would cause havoc. But I can count on the fingers of one hand the ones we’ve lost over the years.”

“Every year we wonder what autumn will bring,” says Georgina, eyeing the plump rhododendron buds that promise a good display next spring. This year’s autumn show, she says, is coming “in dribs and drabs”. That may be, but to the first-time visitor it’s a treat indeed.

The Stobo Japanese Water Garden, Stobo Home Farm, by Stobo Castle, near Peebles. To arrange a garden visit, or to book bed and breakfast accommodation at Stobo Home Farm, contact Hugh Seymour at [email protected] or tel: [phone].