Gwaenynog - A Welsh Literary Garden

Gwaenynog isn’t open often, which only adds to its quiet allure. When I heard— last autumn—that the gates would open for a single weekend, I knew I had to go. Some gardens don’t just invite you; they call you.

Tucked away in the Welsh countryside, Gwaenynog is more secret sanctuary than showpiece. Weathered walls, tangled borders, a sense of time standing still—it’s the kind of place that feels discovered rather than visited.

The Walled Garden at Gwaenynog is intimate, timeworn, and steeped in story. Though I had never set foot inside it before, it felt instantly familiar. Perhaps that's because Beatrix Potter once wandered these same paths, sketchbook in hand, drawing inspiration from its gentle, unruly charm. Her time here lives on in both line and leaf.

This garden is more than just a place—it’s a page from a beloved storybook. Gwaenynog’s Walled Garden was the setting for The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies, one of Beatrix Potter’s most cherished tales. She knew it well, often visiting, sketching, and capturing its quiet charm. In her secret journal, she called it “the prettiest kind of garden, where bright old-fashioned flowers grow amongst the currant bushes.” And standing alone in the garden, I saw exactly what she meant.

It took a few hours to reach Wales, the sky low and grey, but as I turned through the gates of Gwaenynog, I knew the journey had been worth every mile. This was no ordinary garden—it belonged to Beatrix Potter’s Uncle Fred and Aunt Harriet Burton, and between 1895 and 1913, she visited often, perhaps as many as thirteen times. The Walled Garden, in particular, stirred her imagination. On this visit, several of her delicate garden sketches were on display—quiet echoes of the moments she once captured here in ink and memory.

As I parked and made my way toward the garden, a quiet peacefulness settled over me—a sense of stepping not just into another place, but another time. There was a timeless charm to it all: the soft curve of the path, the weathered Gardener’s Cottage standing like a prelude to something special. Then, through the gate and into the Walled Garden itself—enclosed by tall stone walls I instantly recognised from Beatrix Potter’s sketches. Her presence was everywhere, not in a loud or curated way, but gently woven into the very fabric of the garden. It felt both deeply familiar and quietly magical.

It was a quiet day, with few visitors around, and I had the rare luxury of wandering the garden in near solitude. Unhurried and uninterrupted, I could take in every detail—the shifting light, the scent of damp earth, the soft rustle of leaves. It’s a testament to the family who now care for Gwaenynog that the garden remains so beautifully unspoiled. There’s no hint of commercialisation here—only a deep respect for its history. It felt as though nothing had changed since Beatrix Potter walked these paths herself, sketching, imagining, and quietly absorbing the same enduring atmosphere.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t always this peaceful or lovingly preserved. After Beatrix Potter’s time, the garden fell into quiet neglect. Much of it was ploughed over and horses then grazed where flower beds had bloomed. By the time the 1960s arrived, little remained of the original garden—only two derelict greenhouses stood as silent reminders of what had been. It wasn’t until Janie Smith and her husband took on the property that restoration began, slowly breathing life back into the old walls and reawakening the spirit of the garden Beatrix had once known.

The restoration began with Janie’s daughter, Frances—just twenty at the time, but already armed with horticultural knowledge gained from her time working in the Kitchen Garden at Chatsworth House. In 1988, she turned her attention to Gwaenynog, determined to revive the gardens with care and authenticity. Her vision was clear: to bring the garden back as closely as possible to how it would have looked during Beatrix Potter’s visits. It was a labour not just of skill, but of deep affection—for history, for beauty, and for the quiet magic that lingers in old gardens.

Much careful research went into the restoration. Frances reached out to Frederick Warne, Beatrix Potter’s original publisher, as well as the Victoria and Albert Museum for guidance. Studying Beatrix’s own detailed illustrations of the garden proved invaluable—they revealed not only the plants that once flourished there but also the original layout, design, and the very spirit of the place. Through this thoughtful work, Frances was able to breathe new life into Gwaenynog, restoring its unique sense of time and place.

As with many success stories, a stroke of luck came in the form of David Lewis, a former apprentice who had worked in the garden during the 1940s. David’s vivid memories of the garden’s layout, plant varieties, and the fruits and vegetables grown there proved invaluable. His firsthand knowledge allowed Frances to stay true to the original design, helping to restore the garden with a remarkable authenticity.

Nestled within the garden is a charming potting shed, its upstairs windows crafted in a delicate Gothic style. It’s believed this very building inspired Mr. McGregor’s Potting Shed in Beatrix Potter’s stories. Restored alongside the garden, the shed now serves as a display space, housing captivating photographs that reveal the garden’s remarkable transformation—from neglected ruins to the vibrant, living place it is today.

It was a joy to discover the family’s thoughtful tribute to those who helped restore the garden. A handwritten note, carefully displayed, acknowledged Mr. Wil Pierce, who lent his digging skills in the Kitchen Garden back in 1989. Small gestures like this spoke volumes about Janie and Frances—how deeply they valued every hand that contributed, ensuring that kindness and effort were remembered and honoured for visitors to see.

Beatrix Potter wrote fondly of the garden, describing it as “very large, two thirds surrounded by a red brick wall with many apricots and an inner circle of old grey apple trees on wooden espaliers. It is very productive, but not tidy. The prettiest kind of garden.” This very garden inspired her delicate drawings—where, famously, the small rabbits in The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies succumb to the soporific charm of lettuce, captured with gentle humour and affection.

Visiting in late autumn, I was fortunate to see many of the espaliered apple trees heavy with fruit—just as Beatrix had so lovingly described them.

At the entrance gates, crates of windfall and other apples were thoughtfully laid out for visitors to take home—a simple, generous gesture that felt perfectly in keeping with the garden’s spirit. It was incredible to see how the current gardeners had carefully pruned and shaped the trees into espalier forms, and I found myself imagining the hands that had tended the trees in Beatrix’s day. In that moment, I truly felt the garden’s living connection to the past as I soaked up Gwaenynog’s timeless atmosphere.

Visiting at the end of autumn, many of the summer flowers and roses had finished their season, yet the garden remained abundant with ripe apples. Brightly coloured Sedum and softly pastel Cosmos brought gentle bursts of colour, while roses climbed gracefully over wooden frames. I found myself longing to return in summer, to see the roses and herbaceous borders ablaze in their full, vibrant bloom.

Beatrix Potter also set two of her unfinished stories—Flittermouse and Fluttermouse as well as Llewelyn's Well in the garden. The latter begins with a vivid description that brings the garden to life: "In Summer there were white and damask roses and the smell of thyme and musk. In Spring there were goosberries and throstles, and the flowers they call ceninen. And leeks and cabbages also grew in that garden; and between long straight grass alleys, and apple trained espaliers, there were beds of strawberries, mint and sage. And great Holly trees and a thicket of nuts. It was a great big garden". These words paint a picture not just of a garden, but of a living, breathing world—a place where every season offers its own quiet wonders.

Today, the vegetable and productive areas of the garden are thoughtfully separated from the flowers, roses, and herbaceous borders. I was lucky enough to spot some incredible pumpkins that put my own back home to shame. It was a poor year for pumpkins generally, yet these were thriving—so much so that I wish I’d asked about their variety. Their robust presence was a testament to the care and skill that continues to nurture this remarkable garden.

Though it wasn’t the season to see the garden in full colour, I was delighted to find many plants left standing—untrimmed for winter—offering shelter and sustenance to birds and wildlife. These remnants of late-season growth also made a striking architectural statement, their silhouettes adding a quiet beauty to the garden’s fading light.

 I wholeheartedly recommend a visit to Gwaenynog if you find yourself in Wales. While many gardens have become over-commercialised tourist attractions, this one remains wonderfully true to its roots—intimate, unspoiled, and full of quiet charm. It’s a rare and precious place that invites you to slow down and simply be.

Garden Writer | Guineveres Garden