Hedge laying is pretty important to anyone with an old country hedge: it’s uncommon to see a garden hedge laid, but most species are suitable
Hedge laying is an ancient technology, passed down since at least the Bronze Age. It became super important in Britain with the Enclosures starting in 1603, when big open fields were divided by ditches and hedges that had to be livestock-proof: no barbed wire fencing back then.
Hedge laying is routinely done to tough native country hedge plants when they get old and gappy. A country hedge is lucky to be trimmed once a year, many are trimmed every other year. Plenty fall into disrepair and begin turning back into trees; species like Blackthorn that send up sucker-shoots from the root will also spread out.
That neglect happens much less often to garden hedges, which tend to get trimmed at least once a year, keeping them in good condition. Laying a hedge has many benefits, but it lowers the hedge’s height significantly at first, and most people want year-round privacy from their garden hedge.
Furthermore, hedge laying really should be done by someone with a bit of practice under their belt (search for them here), and those guys aren’t common in urban areas: you’d be hard-pressed to find a garden service company in town that offers hedge laying.
Still, except for most conifers (which don’t regrow after hard pruning), and plants with brittle wood like Laurel that will snap easily when you try to lay it, there is no reason you can’t lay a typical garden hedge like Yew, Holly, Hornbeam or Beech.
Not a lot of people know that the most important art in hedge laying is keeping your tobacco pipe at the correct angle:
Is all that enough intro for Paul A. Lamb, a West Country master hedge layer whose book, Of Thorn and Briar, is out next in April next year?
Better to hear from the man himself: