The first time I visited Killruddery Gardens in Co Wicklow was as a teenager doing a bit of freelance trespassing at the back of the estate. I remember coming warily down an avenue of trees clothed with fresh, heart-shaped leaves (lime trees, as I now know) and being ambushed by a surreal, sunlit image several hundred yards away. A pale-grey mansion, portentously outfitted with mullioned windows, high chimneys and Dutch gables, rose at the end of a flat expanse of green.
In front of this mirage-like vision of the home of the Earl of Meath were two parallel sheets of water: twin canals, like shimmering mirrors hundreds of feet long laid out on the ground. It was a beautiful, formidable sight, and somewhat terrifying to the young - and uninvited - visitor. I legged it fast, back into the safety of the woods.
I never imagined that a couple of decades later I'd be pacing along those very same canals in company with the Countess of Meath - albeit with notebook and pencil. And I'm happy to report that those 550-foot long bodies of water with the noble house at one end, and a round pool at the other (with a recently renovated, gravity-fed fountain) still make me shiver - but this time with pleasurable awe - which is exactly what this stark geometrical arrangement was designed to do when it was created over 300 years ago in 1682.
Edward Brabazon, the 4th Earl of Meath, must have been a man of fine sophistication. His new garden at Killruddery was the height of fashion, being in the French manner, a style that could be seen at the royal palaces at Hampton Court, Greenwich and St James's. Edward employed a Frenchman, Bonet, to design the gardens, having wooed him away from Sir William Petty, the Surveyor-General of Ireland. Petty was not pleased, especially as Bonet had been in his service for 12 years.
But Bonet was happily busy in Bray - with compass and callipers, plumb and rule - making the sumptuous garden whose measured arithmetic and pleasing symmetry would demonstrate and amplify the status of the owners. The house was reflected (and effectively doubled in importance) in the matching canals' looking-glass surfaces. These same reservoirs, known as the Long Ponds, also stocked trout, roach and carp for the earl's table. Meanwhile, the Round Pond at the end sent a jet of water into the air that was nicely backed by a lime tree bisecting an ornamental woodland. The more distant bulks of the Lesser Sugar Loaf and Bray Head weren't consciously included, but they added a touch of wild drama to the vista nonetheless.
To the left of the canals were the Angles, a highly geometric layout of beech, hornbeam, yew and lime walks in the voguish patte d'oie or goose-foot pattern. Beyond this strict tracery, a dead-smooth bowling green was bordered by an avenue of evergreen oaks. A maze provided further diversion for the Meaths (and ceaseless precision-clipping duties for the gardeners).
On the far side of the canal, more entertainment could be had in the Sylvan Theatre, an intimate outdoor auditorium with tiers of seating carved out of the earth and snugly walled in with tall bay hedges. Not far away there was more water, a pool 60 feet across enclosed within a double hedge of beech and watched over by a quartet of statues representing the four seasons.
Now, three centuries later, the brave design remains - a little roughened and a lot weathered, but still wearing an air of inarguable authority. The maze is gone now, and the bowling green, which was prone to flooding, has been planted with birch and poplar. The house has been rebuilt and Victorian parterres and a charming octagonal dairy have been added to the garden.
The custodians for the last half-century of this fragile but enduring creation have been Lady Meath and her husband Anthony, who passed away last Christmas. His spirit lives on, though, not just in the results of his untiring devotion to the garden but in a fine, big copper beech planted to commemorate his birth. Four further trees - a larch, a nothofagus, a Turkey oak and another copper beech - mark the births of the next generation. And Lady Meath, a sparkly-eyed and sprightly eightysomething, continues to plant and care for things outdoors, aided only by two gardeners and a couple of other helping hands.
And, incidentally, you don't need to trespass to enjoy the continuing pleasures of the Meath estate. A modest fee at the gate will gain you entry.
Today, from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. Killruddery Gardens hosts a special day with Carley's Bridge Pottery, the oldest pottery in Ireland (dating from the 1650s). Pottery demonstration and sales, planting advice for both patio and conservatory plants. Admission £2. Killruddery are open daily 15 p.m. until September 30th. Admission £2.