Heritage Garden Traders is a small company owned and run by Rebecca and Paul. We are based in lovely rural Herefordshire and operate from small rural premises. No big offices or showroom but the old building store gives us plenty of space and sits in a lovely country location.
We have a keen interest in garden history and this is the source of most of our ideas. Whilst visiting gardens and museums and reading old books we are fascinated by the way the Victorians in particular developed equipment for use in the garden. Each piece carrying out a specific role to make the best use of the garden and the crops that it can produce.
We enjoy spending time in our gardens and always feel inspired to work on new items to add to our range. Please come back again and visit as new products are being introduced on a regular basis. Some items in our range have a practical role to play where as others simply make an aesthetic contribution to any outdoor space.
We source our products from manufacturers that support the environment and most of our timber items are now FSC certified. We have noted on the description those items that fall into this category. We believe that in order to succeed we must develop strong and mutually beneficial relationships with our suppliers and work in an environmentally responsible way.
Our customers are our priority and we strive to exceed your expectations.
Our customer is our heart and soul
The garden is a happy place, we love ours and hope that our products provide you with enjoyment too.
THE GLORY OF THE GARDEN
Our England is a garden that is full of stately views, Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues, With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by; But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye.
For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall, You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all; The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks: The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks.
And there you’ll see the gardeners, the men and ‘prentice boys Told off to do as they are bid and do it without noise; For, except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the birds, The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words.
And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose, And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows; But they can roll and trim the lawns and sift the sand and loam, For the Glory of the Garden occupieth all who come.
Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing:–“Oh, how beautiful!” and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out and start their working lives At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinner-knives.
There’s not a pair of legs so thin, there’s not a head so thick, There’s not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick. But it can find some needful job that’s crying to be done, For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one.
Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders, If it’s only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders; And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden, You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.
Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees That half a proper gardener’s work is done upon his knees, So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away! And the Glory of the Garden it shall never pass away!