Hill Country Gardens, Part Two

It was quite possibly perfect weather: temperature somewhere in the upper 60s, cloudless sky, gentle breeze. The date was Saturday, May 17th, the day of our outing to two local gardens: Dunaway and Wilkerson Mill. Eleven of us met at Hill Country Montessori School at 10 am to carpool to Dunaway Gardens, about fifteen minutes west and south of the school. To my surprise, I later learned that the Gardens are in the same watershed as our school: Cedar Creek, tributary to the Chattahoochee River. (The site borders on a spectacular 65 acre wetland, which I plan to visit again on our August outing featuring birds and flying insects.) Our tour guide was Josh, son of Jennifer Rae Bingham, garden owner. A realtor by profession, Josh spoke reverently and enthusiastically of the site, and told us many times about ongoing efforts to protect adjacent parcels of land from development.

In turn, I shared with Josh some of the "inside stories" I had learned from a member of our workshop group who was unable to attend our garden odyssey. He had sent me an email earlier that morning, sharing some of his memories of the historic gardens (particularly during its hayday in the 1920s, 30s, and 40s when it was a theatrical training center operated by Hetty Jane Dunaway and her husband, Wayne Sewell). Here are some of those stories:

"...as a child, from the age of 11 to about 14 or 15, I used to go to Dunnaway and help Ms. Hatchett cut back the hedges from the paths, mow the grass, and other things every summer, just so I could have access to the gardens, and spend time with Ms. Hatchett. She was the "beloved neice" that is pictured on the Dunnaway Gardens web site to which the gardens were left after the Sewells passed away. Being a teacher, she did not have the money to maintain the gardens in the way they should have been. However, she did have a wealth of memories she always shared with me. The gardens were originally designed as a series of outdoor rooms, with huge hedges seperating the view from one area to another, so going up a set of steps, or around a corner, always brought a new surprise. There were sculpture in the Roman gardens from one of the local art guilds, paintings in many of the buildings from other art guilds, etc. I think there were three or more art guilds showing their works in the gardens at one time, if my memory serves me correctly, so it was more than just a garden. It was the local center for all the arts, performace art, painting, sculpture, music, etc. Walking through the gardens, you would always see original art, hear live music being played in the background, smell steak and other meals being prepared in the different resturants, etc. (In addition to the Tea House, there was a steak house resturant in the bottom of the Honeymoon house...). There was also a series of cabins at the back of the property where the visiting actors and actresses would stay.

Some of the more humorous, and somewhat scandalous, memories Ms. Hatchett shared were tales about the rock mason who laid most of the garden walls and steps. Evidently he was somewhat of a lush, and Hetty Jane would often find him passed out on the job, or asleep somewhere in the gardens, as she was hosting guest or events. He did good work, and Ms. Dunaway would always forgive him.

Another reason the gardens were once more popular than they are now, according to Ms. Hatchett, was the Japanese Tea House. She showed me a menu once, explaining to me the significance of many of the items. It seems, especially during the Prohibition, that the socially elite ladies of Newnan would come to the gardens on a daily basis for "theraputic teas". It was a daily thing, much as the English have their tea time. The difference was that there was a tea for neuralsia, which included coca extract (cocaine). Another for body aches and pains which had a bit of morphine in it. On for "dropsy", or depression, which had extract of cannabis, etc. All of these medications were over the counter at the time. Ms. Hatchett told me that it was a hoot for her as a young lady to see all these socialites come together in their gowns, white gloves, and lace hats, get their "tea on" (as she called it), the entire time complaining about their h usbands attending the local speakeasies or catching their husbands bringing in the latest batch of shine from the local moonshiner, etc."

I appreciate tales like these for the window they offer on how the gardens truly were -- not simply the picture-postcard views of smiling movie stars amid flowing pools and blooming roses.

Below are a number of photographs from our walk. I was taken, in particular, with all the shady pools and channels of flowing water edged with ferns and mosses. We stopped at a number of large pools, some murky and others with tadpoles or small fish swimming in the shallows. At the base of the Great Pool, under the shade of an enormous beech tree, Josh told us another marvelous story. That stony terrace, which overlooks the wetlands of Cedar Creek, was a favorite haunt of a local fortuneteller who made a living as a soothsayer. She had one good eye, with the other made of red marble, and she dressed in military clothes. Ms. Dunaway's son wanted her to leave; before she left, she told him his fortune, mentioning that he would wreck his Model T Ford by accidentally driving it into the creek; that very thing happened two weeks later. Shortly afterward, the fortuneteller returned to ply her trade at the Great Pool. Another favorite spot of mine was the Wedding Tree, a white oak approximately 200 to 250 years old. Finally, the geologist in me was taken with Little Stone Mountain, an exposure of gneiss that, according to the Dunaway Gardens brochure, was "often described as the favorite campsite of Chief William McIntosh." In my mind, I travel full-circle, to January's field trip to McIntosh Reserve. The more I learn of this region's stories, the more I am haunted by them.