*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 47349 ***
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.
—Where necessary, illustrations have been relocated.
List of illustration has been therefore adapted.
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THE WILD GARDEN
The
WILD GARDEN
Or our Groves and Gardens made beautiful
by the Naturalisation of Hardy Exotic
Plants; being one way onwards from the
Dark Ages of Flower Gardening, with
suggestions for the Regeneration of the
Bare Borders of the London Parks.
BY W. ROBINSON, F. L. S.
_THIRD EDITION_
Illustrated by Alfred Parsons
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
NEW YORK: SCRIBNER AND WELFORD
1883
_By the same Author._
THE ENGLISH FLOWER GARDEN: ITS STYLE AND ARRANGEMENT. Followed by
an ALPHABETICAL DESCRIPTION OF ALL THE PLANTS BEST SUITED FOR ITS
EMBELLISHMENT, THEIR CULTURE, AND POSITION. With numerous Illustrations.
Medium 8vo. 15s.
THE PARKS AND GARDENS OF PARIS, CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO THE WANTS OF
OTHER CITIES AND OF PUBLIC AND PRIVATE GARDENS. _Third Edition._ With
350 Illustrations. 8vo. 18s.
ALPINE FLOWERS FOR ENGLISH GARDENS. HOW THEY MAY BE GROWN IN ALL PARTS
OF THE BRITISH ISLANDS. With Illustrations of Rock–gardens, Natural and
Artificial. _Third Edition._ With Woodcuts. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
THE SUB–TROPICAL GARDEN; OR, BEAUTY OF FORM IN THE FLOWER GARDEN; with
Illustrations of all the finer Plants used for this purpose. _Second
Edition._ With Illustrations. Small 8vo. 5s.
HARDY FLOWERS. DESCRIPTIONS OF UPWARDS OF 1300 OF THE MOST ORNAMENTAL
SPECIES; with Directions for their Culture, &c. _Fourth Edition._ Post
8vo. 3s. 6d.
GOD’S ACRE BEAUTIFUL; OR, THE CEMETERIES OF THE FUTURE. _Third Edition._
With Illustrations. 8vo. 7s. 6d.
[Illustration: Colonies of Poet’s Narcissus and Broad–leaved Saxifrage,
etc.—_Frontispiece._]
[Illustration: Columbines and Geraniums in meadow–grass.]
PREFACE.
When I began, some years ago, to plead the cause of the innumerable
hardy flowers against the few tender ones, put out at that time in a
formal way, the answer frequently was, “We cannot go back to the mixed
border”—that is to say, the old way of arranging flowers in borders.
Knowing, then, a little of the vast world of plant beauty quite shut
out of our gardens by the “system,” in vogue, I was led to consider
the ways in which it might be introduced to our gardens; and, among
various ideas that then occurred to me, was the name and scope of the
“wild garden.” I was led to think of the enormous number of beautiful
hardy plants from other countries which might be naturalised, with a
very slight amount of trouble, in many situations in our gardens and
woods—a world of delightful plant beauty that we might in this way make
happy around us, in places now weedy, or half bare, or useless. I saw
that we could not only grow thus a thousandfold more lovely flowers
than are commonly seen in what is called the flower garden, but also a
number which, by any other plan, have no chance whatever of being seen
around us. This is a system which will give us more beauty than ever
was dreamt of in gardens, without interfering with formal gardening in
any way.
In this illustrated edition, by the aid of careful drawings, I have
endeavoured to suggest in what the system consists; but if I were to
write a book for every page that this contains, I could not hope to
suggest the many beautiful aspects of vegetation which the wild garden
will enable us to enjoy at our doors.
The illustrations are, with a few slight exceptions, the work of
Mr. Alfred Parsons, and the drawing and engraving have been several
years in execution. They are after nature, in places where the ideas
expressed in the first small edition of the book had been carried out,
or where accident, as in the case of the beautiful group of Myrrh and
white Harebells, had given rise to the combinations or aspects of
vegetation sought. I cannot too heartily acknowledge the skill and
pains which Mr. Parsons devoted to the drawings, and to the success
which he has attained in illustrating the motive of the book, and such
good effects as have already been obtained where the idea has been
intelligently carried out.
There has been some misunderstanding as to the term “Wild Garden.” It
is applied essentially to the placing of perfectly hardy exotic plants
in places and under conditions where they will become established and
take care of themselves. It has nothing to do with the old idea of the
“wilderness,” though it may be carried out in connection with that. It
does not necessarily mean the picturesque garden, for a garden may be
highly picturesque, and yet in every part the result of ceaseless care.
What it does mean is best explained by the winter Aconite flowering
under a grove of naked trees in February; by the Snowflake growing
abundantly in meadows by the Thames side; by the perennial Lupine
dyeing an islet with its purple in a Scotch river; and by the Apennine
Anemone staining an English wood blue before the blooming of our blue
bells. Multiply these instances a thousandfold, illustrated by many
different types of plants and hardy climbers, from countries as cold or
colder than our own, and one may get a just idea of the wild garden.
Some have erroneously represented it as allowing a garden to run wild,
or sowing annuals promiscuously; whereas it studiously avoids meddling
with the garden proper at all, except in attempting the improvements of
bare shrubbery borders in the London parks and elsewhere; but these are
waste spaces, not gardens.
I wish it to be kept distinct in the mind from the various important
phases of hardy plant growth in groups, beds, and borders, in which
good culture and good taste may produce many happy effects; distinct
from the rock garden or the borders reserved for choice hardy flowers
of all kinds; from the best phase of the sub–tropical garden—that
of growing hardy plants of fine form; from the ordinary type of
spring garden; and from the gardens, so to say, of our own beautiful
native flowers in our woods and wilds. How far the wild garden may
be carried out as an aid to, or in connection with, any of the above
in the smaller class of gardens, can be best decided on the spot in
each case. In the larger gardens, where, on the outer fringes of the
lawn, in grove, park, copse, or by woodland walks or drives, there is
often ample room, fair gardens and wholly new and beautiful aspects of
vegetation may be created by its means.
MAY 28, 1881.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
EXPLANATORY 1
CHAPTER II.
EXAMPLE FROM THE FORGET–ME–NOT FAMILY 9
CHAPTER III.
EXAMPLE FROM HARDY BULBS AND TUBERS IN GRASS 15
CHAPTER IV.
EXAMPLE FROM THE GLOBE FLOWER ORDER 21
CHAPTER V.
PLANTS CHIEFLY FITTED FOR THE WILD GARDEN 32
CHAPTER VI.
DITCHES AND NARROW SHADY LANES, COPSES, HEDGEROWS, AND THICKETS 36
CHAPTER VII.
DRAPERY FOR TREES AND BUSHES 43
CHAPTER VIII.
THE COMMON SHRUBBERY, WOODS AND WOODLAND DRIVES 51
CHAPTER IX.
THE BROOK–SIDE, WATER–SIDE, AND BOG GARDENS 67
CHAPTER X.
ROSES FOR THE WILD GARDEN, AND FOR HEDGEROWS, FENCES, AND GROUPS 81
CHAPTER XI.
WILD GARDENING ON WALLS OR RUINS 88
CHAPTER XII.
SOME RESULTS 92
CHAPTER XIII.
A PLAN FOR THE EMBELLISHMENT OF THE SHRUBBERY BORDERS IN LONDON
PARKS 111
CHAPTER XIV.
THE PRINCIPAL TYPES OF HARDY EXOTIC FLOWERING PLANTS FOR THE
WILD GARDEN 120
CHAPTER XV.
SELECTIONS OF HARDY EXOTIC PLANTS FOR VARIOUS POSITIONS IN THE
WILD GARDEN 163
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Colonies of Poet’s Narcissus and Broad–leaved Saxifrage, etc.
_Frontispiece_
Columbine and Geraniums in meadow–grass v
Large flowered Meadow Rue in the Wild Garden, type of plant
mostly excluded from the Garden 1
Night effect of large evening Primrose in the Wild Garden
(Œnothera Lamarkiana) _To face page_ 4
A “mixed border” with tile edging, the way in which the
beautiful hardy flowers of the world have been grown in
gardens hitherto, when grown at all. (_Sketched in a large
garden, 1878_) 5
Blue flowered Composite plant; fine foliage and habit; type
of noble plants excluded from Gardens. (Mulgedium Plumieri) 6
Wood Anemone 8
Caucasian Comfrey in shrubbery 9
The Cretan Borage (Borago cretica) 12
Flowers of Geneva Bugle (Ajuga genevensis), Dwarf Boragewort 14
Star of Bethlehem in Grass 15
The association of exotic and British wild flowers in the Wild
Garden.—The Bell–flowered Scilla, naturalised with our
own Wood Hyacinth 16
The Turk’s Cap Lily, naturalised in the grass by wood–walk 19
Crocuses in turf, in grove of Summer leafing trees 20
Group of Globe flowers (Trollius) in marshy place; type of
the nobler Northern flowers little cultivated in gardens 21
The Mountain Clematis (C. montana) 22
The White Japan Anemone in the Wild Garden 23
Anemones in the Riviera. Thrive equally well in any open
soil here, only flowering later _To face page_ 24
The Green Hellebore in the Wild Garden 26
Tall perennial Larkspurs, naturalised in Shrubbery (1878) 28
Double Crimson Pæonies in grass 30
Eupatorium purpureum 32
The Giant Scabious (8 feet high). (Cephalaria procera) 32
Giant Cow parsnip. Type of Great Siberian herbaceous vegetation.
For rough places only 35
Foliage of Dipsacus, on hedge–bank in spring 36
The large white Bindweed, type of nobler climbing plants, with
annual stems. For copses, hedgerows, and shrubberies 39
The Nootka Bramble; type of free–growing flowering shrub.
For copses and woods 40
The Yellow Allium (A. Moly) naturalised 42
Periploca græca (climber) 43
Large White Clematis on Yew tree at Great Tew. (C. montana
grandiflora) 45
The way the climbing plants of the world are crucified in
gardens—winter effect (_a faithful sketch_) 45
Climbing shrub (Celastrus), isolated on the grass; way of
growing woody Climbers away from walls or other supports 47
A Liane in the North. Aristolochia and Deciduous Cypress 48
A beautiful accident.—A colony of Myrrhis odorata, established
in shrubbery, with white Harebells here and there 51
Large White Achilleas spread into wide masses under shade of
trees in shrubbery 53
Lilies coming up through carpet of White Arabis 56
Colony of Narcissus in properly spaced shrubbery 57
The American White Wood–Lily (Trillium grandiflorum) in
Wild Garden, in wood bottom in leaf–mould _To face page_ 58
The Lily of the Valley in a copse 63
Solomon’s Seal and Herb Paris, in copse by streamlet 67
Colony of hardy exotic Flowers, naturalised by brook–side 70
Valley in Somersetshire, with Narcissi, Marsh Marigolds, and
Primroses _To face page_ 70
Cyperus longus 73
The Cape Pond Weed in an English ditch in winter 75
Day Lily by margin of water 76
Marsh Marigold and Iris in early spring 78
The same spot as in previous sketch, with aftergrowth of Iris,
Meadow Sweet, and Bindweed 79
Partridge Berry (Gaultheria) 80
Wild Rose growing on a Pollard Ash in Orchardleigh Park,
Somerset 83
White Climbing Rose scrambling over old Catalpa Tree
_To face page_ 84
Climbing Rose isolated on grass 87
Arenaria balearica, in a hole in wall at Great Tew 88
Cheddar Pink, Saxifrage, and Ferns, on cottage wall at Mells 89
The Yellow Fumitory on wall (Corydalis lutea) 91
Large Japan Sedum (S. spectabile) and Autumn Crocuses in the
Wild Garden 92
Crane’s Bill, wild, in grass 94
Large–leafed Saxifrage in the Wild Garden 95
Tiger Lilies in Wild Garden at Great Tew _To face page_ 98
Large–flowered Clematis 102
Sun Roses (Cistus) and other exotic hardy plants among heather,
on sandy slope _To face page_ 104
Wood and herbaceous Meadow–sweets grouped together in Mr.
Hewittson’s garden 105
Woodruff and Ivy 108
Tailpiece 110
Dug and mutilated Shrubbery in St. James’s Park. _Sketched in
winter of 1879_ 111
Colony of the Snowdrop–Anemone in Shrubbery not dug.
Anemone taking the place of weeds or bare earth 115
Colony of the Summer Snowflake, on margin of shrubbery 119
The Monkshood, naturalised by wet ditch in wood 121
The white Narcissus–like Allium, in the orchards of Provence;
type of family receiving little place in gardens which may
be beautiful for a season in wild places 123
The Alpine Windflower (Anemone alpina) 124
Siberian Columbine in rocky place 126
Tall Asphodel in copse 127
The foliage of the Meadow Saffron in Spring 132
The White–flowered European Clematis (C. erecta) 133
Cyclamens in the Wild Garden; from nature 134
A South European Bindweed creeping up the stems of an Iris
in an English garden 135
A Sea Holly; Eryngium 138
Groups of Funkia Sieboldi 140
A hardy Geranium 141
Snowdrops, wild, by streamlet in valley 142
Sun Rose on limestone rocks 144
White Lily in Wild Garden 146
Everlasting Pea, creeping up stem in shrubbery 148
Type of fine–leaved umbellate plants seldom grown in gardens 149
The Bee Balm, Monarda. American wood plant 150
The Great Japan Knotweed (Polygonum cuspidatum). (Showing
the plant in flower) 152
Phlomis. Type of handsome Labiates; admirably suited for
the Wild Garden 153
The tall Ox–eye daisy (Pyrethrum serotinum) 154
The Great Reed of Southern Europe (Arundo Donax) 155
Telekia. Type of the Larger Composites, excluded from gardens
proper 159
Group of Tritoma, in grass 160
A tall Mullein 161
Ophrys in grass 163
Rock steps with Omphalodes 175
Butterbur and Double Furze on margin of lake 176
THE WILD GARDEN.
ONE WAY ONWARDS FROM THE DARK AGES OF FLOWER–GARDENING.
CHAPTER I.
EXPLANATORY.
[Illustration: Large–flowered Meadow Rue in the Wild Garden, type of
plant mostly excluded from the Garden.]
About a generation ago a taste began to be manifested for placing a
number of tender plants in the open air in summer, with a view to the
production of showy masses of decided colour. The subjects selected
were mostly from sub–tropical climates and of free growth; placed
annually in the open air of our genial early summer, and in fresh rich
earth, every year they grew rapidly and flowered abundantly during
the summer and early autumn months, and until cut down by the first
frosts. The showy colour of this system was very attractive, and since
its introduction there has been a gradual rooting out of all the old
favourites in favour of this “bedding” system. This was carried to such
an extent that it was not uncommon, indeed it has been the rule, to
find the largest gardens in the country without a single hardy flower,
all energy and expense being devoted to the production of the few
exotics required for the summer decoration. It should be distinctly
borne in mind that the expense for this system is an annual one;
that no matter what amount of money may be spent in this way, or how
many years may be devoted to perfecting it, the first sharp frost of
November announces a yet further expense and labour, usually more heavy
than the preceding.
Its highest results need hardly be described; they are seen in all our
great public gardens; our London and many other city parks show them
in the shape of beds filled with vast quantities of flowers, covering
the ground frequently in a showy way, or in a repulsively gaudy manner:
nearly every private garden is taken possession of by the same things.
I will not here enter into the question of the merits of this system;
it is enough to state that even on its votaries it is beginning to
pall. Some are looking back with regret to the old mixed–border
gardens; others are endeavouring to soften the harshness of the bedding
system by the introduction of fine–leaved plants, but all are agreed
that a great mistake has been made in destroying all our old flowers,
from Lilies to Hepaticas, though very few persons indeed have any idea
of the numbers of beautiful subjects in this way which we may gather
from every northern and temperate clime to adorn our gardens under a
more artistic system.
My object in the _Wild Garden_ is now to show how we may have more
of the varied beauty of hardy flowers than the most ardent admirer of
the old style of garden ever dreams of, by naturalising innumerable
beautiful natives of many regions of the earth in our woods and copses,
rougher parts of pleasure grounds, and in unoccupied places in almost
every kind of garden.
I allude not to the wood and brake flora of any one country, but to
that which finds its home in the vast fields of the whole northern
world, and that of the hill–ground that falls in furrowed folds from
beneath the hoary heads of all the great mountain chains of the world,
whether they rise from hot Indian plains or green European pastures.
The Palm and sacred Fig, as well as the Wheat and the Vine, are
separated from the stemless plants that cushion under the snow for half
the year, by a zone of hardier and not less beautiful life, varied
as the breezes that whisper on the mountain sides, and as the rills
that seam them. They are the Lilies, and Bluebells, and Foxgloves, and
Irises, and Windflowers, and Columbines, and Rock–roses, and Violets,
and Cranesbills, and countless Pea–flowers, and mountain Avens, and
Brambles, and Cinquefoils, and Evening Primroses, and Clematis,
and Honeysuckles, and Michaelmas Daisies, and Wood–hyacinths, and
Daffodils, and Bindweeds, and Forget–me–nots, and blue–eyed Omphalodes,
and Primroses, and Day Lilies, and Asphodels, and St. Bruno’s Lilies,
and the almost innumerable plants which form the flora of the northern
and temperate portions of vast continents.
It is beyond the power of pen or pencil to picture the beauty of
these plants. Innumerable and infinitely varied scenes occur in the
wilder parts of all northern and temperate regions, at many different
elevations. The loveliness and ceaselessly varying charms of such
scenes are indeed difficult to describe or imagine; the essential thing
to bear in mind is that the plants that go to form them _are hardy, and
will thrive in our climate as well as native plants_.
Such beauty may be realised in every wood and copse and shrubbery
that screens our “trim gardens.” Naturally our woods and wilds
have no little loveliness in spring; we have here and there the
Lily–of–the–valley and the Snowdrop, and everywhere the Primrose and
Cowslip; the Bluebell and the Foxglove sometimes take nearly complete
possession of whole woods; but, with all our treasures in this way,
we have no attractions in or near our gardens compared to what it is
within our power to create. There are many countries with winters
as cold as, or colder than, our own, possessing a rich flora; and
by taking the best hardy exotics and establishing them in wild or
half–wild spots, we may produce beautiful pictures in such places. To
most people a pretty plant in a free state is more attractive than
any garden denizen. It is taking care of itself; and, moreover, it is
usually surrounded by some degree of graceful wild spray—the green
above, and the moss and brambles and grass around.
By the means presently to be explained, numbers of plants of the
highest order of beauty and fragrance, and clothed with pleasant
associations, may be seen perfectly at home in the spaces now devoted
to rank grass and weeds, and by wood walks in our shrubberies and
ornamental plantations.
[Illustration: Night effect of large evening Primrose in the Wild
Garden (Œnothera Lamarkiana)]
Among my reasons for advocating this system are the following:—
_First_, because hundreds of the finest hardy flowers will thrive much
better in rough and wild places than ever they did in the old–fashioned
border. Even comparatively small ones, like the ivy–leaved Cyclamen, a
beautiful plant that we rarely find in perfection in gardens, I have
seen perfectly naturalised and spread all over the mossy surface of a
thin wood.
[Illustration: A “mixed border” with tile edging, the way in which
the beautiful hardy flowers of the world have been grown in gardens
hitherto, when grown at all. (_Sketched in a large garden_, 1878.)]
_Secondly_, because they will look infinitely better than ever they
did in gardens, in consequence of fine–leaved plant, fern, and flower,
and climber, grass and trailing shrub, relieving each other in ways
innumerable and delightful. Any one of a thousand combinations will
prove as far superior to any aspect of the old mixed border, or the
ordinary type of modern flower–garden, as is a lovely mountain valley
to a piece of the “black country.”
_Thirdly_, because, arranged as I propose, no disagreeable effects
result from decay. The raggedness of the old mixed border after
the first flush of spring and early summer bloom had passed was
intolerable, bundles of decayed stems tied to sticks, making the place
look like the parade–ground of a number of crossing–sweepers. When
Lilies are sparsely dotted through masses of shrubs, their flowers
are admired more than if they were in isolated showy masses; when
they pass out of bloom they are unnoticed amidst the vegetation, and
not eyesores, as when in rigid unrelieved tufts in borders, etc. In a
wild or semi–wild state the beauty of individual species will proclaim
itself when at its height; and when out of bloom they will be succeeded
by other kinds, or lost among the numerous objects around.
[Illustration: Blue flowered Composite plant; fine foliage and habit;
type of noble plants excluded from gardens. (Mulgedium Plumieri.)]
_Fourthly_, because it will enable us to grow many plants that have
never yet obtained a place in our “trim gardens.” I allude to the
multitudes of plants which, not being so showy as those usually
considered worthy of a place in gardens, are never seen therein. The
flowers of many of these are of the highest order of beauty, especially
when seen in numbers. An isolated tuft of one of these, seen in a
formal border, may not be considered worthy of its place, while in
some wild glade, in a wood, as a little colony, grouped naturally,
or associated with like subjects, its effect may be exquisite. Among
the subjects usually considered unfit for garden cultivation may be
included a goodly number that, grown in gardens, are no addition to
them; subjects like the American Asters, Golden Rods, and like plants,
which merely overrun the choicer and more beautiful border–flowers
when planted amongst them. These coarse subjects would be quite at
home in copses and woody places, where their blossoms might be seen or
gathered in due season, and their vigorous vegetation form a covert
welcome to the game–preserver. To these two groups might be added
subjects like the winter Heliotrope, the handsome British Willow herb,
and many other plants which, while attractive in the garden, are apt to
spread about so rapidly as to become a nuisance there. Clearly these
should only be planted in wild and semi–wild places.
_Fifthly_, because we may in this way settle also the question of
spring flowers, and the spring garden, as well as that of hardy
flowers generally. In the way I suggest, many parts of every country
garden, and many suburban ones, may be made alive with spring flowers,
without interfering at least with the geometrical beds that have been
the worthless stock–in–trade of the so–called landscape–gardener for
centuries. The blue stars of the Apennine Anemone will be seen to
greater advantage “wild,” in shady or half–shady bare places, under
trees, than in any conceivable formal arrangement, and it is but one of
hundreds of sweet spring flowers that will succeed perfectly in the way
I propose.
_Sixthly_, because there can be few more agreeable phases of communion
with nature than naturalising the natives of countries in which we
are infinitely more interested than in those of which greenhouse or
stove plants are native. From the Roman ruin—home of many flowers,
the prairies of the New World, the woods and meadows of all the great
mountains of Europe; from Greece and Italy and Spain, from the sunny
hills of Asia Minor; from the alpine regions of the great continents—in
a word, from almost every interesting region the traveller may bring
seeds or plants, and establish near his home the pleasantest souvenirs
of the various scenes he has visited.
Moreover, the great merit of permanence belongs to this delightful
phase of gardening. Select a wild rough slope, and embellish it
with the handsomest and hardiest climbing plants,—say the noble
mountain Clematis from Nepal, the sweet C. Flammula from Southern
Europe, “Virginian creepers” in variety, the Nootka Bramble (Rubus
nutkanus and R. odoratus), various species of hardy vines, Jasmines,
Honeysuckles—British and European, and wild Roses. Arranged with some
judgment at first, such a colony might be left to take care of itself;
time would but add to its attractions, and the happy owner might go
away for years, and find it beautiful on his return.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER II.
EXAMPLE FROM THE FORGET–ME–NOT FAMILY.
[Illustration: Caucasian Comfrey in shrubbery.]
I will now endeavour to illustrate my meaning by showing what may be
done with one type of northern vegetation— that of the Forget–me–not
order, one far from being as rich as others in subjects suited for the
wild garden. Through considering its capabilities in this way, the
reader may be able to form some idea of what we may do by selecting
from the numerous plants that grow in the meadows and mountain–woods of
Europe, Asia, and America.
The Forget–me–not or Borage family is a well–marked and well–known one,
containing a great number of coarse weeds, but which, if it possessed
only the common Forget–me–not, would have some claims on us. Many
persons are not acquainted with more than the Forget–me–nots; but
what lovely exotic plants there are in this order that would afford
delight if met with creeping about along our wood and shrubbery
walks! Nature, say some, is sparing of her deep true blues; but there
are obscure plants in this order that possess the truest, deepest,
and most delicate of blues, and which will thrive as well in the wild
garden as common weeds. The creeping Omphalodes verna even surpasses
the Forget–me–not in the depth and beauty of its blue and its other
good qualities, and runs about quite freely in any shady or half–shady
shrubbery or open wood, or even in turf in moist soil not very
frequently mown. Its proper home is the wood or semi–wild spot, where
it takes care of itself. Put it in a garden, and probably, unless the
soil and region be moist, it soon perishes. Besides, in the border, it
would be a not very agreeable object when once the sweet spring bloom
had passed; whereas, in the positions spoken of, in consequence of the
predominance of trees, shrubs, and tall herbs, the low plants are not
noticed when out of flower, but crawl about unobserved till returning
spring reminds those fortunate enough to see them how superior is the
inexpensive and natural kind of gardening here advocated.
Another plant of the order is so suitable and useful for this purpose,
that if a root or two of it be planted in any shrubbery, it will soon
run about, exterminate the weeds, and prove quite a lesson in wild
gardening. I allude to the Caucasian Comfrey (Symphytum caucasicum),
which grows about twenty inches high, and bears quantities of the
loveliest blue pendulous flowers. It, like many others, does much
better in a wood, grove, or any kind of shrubbery, than in any other
position, filling in the naked spaces between the trees and shrubs, and
has a quick–growing and spreading tendency, but never becomes weedy or
objectionable. As if to contrast with it, there is the deep crimson
Bohemian Comfrey (S. bohemicum), which is sometimes startling from the
depth of its vivid colouring; and the white Comfrey (S. orientale),
quite a vigorous–growing kind, blooming early in April and May, with
the blue Caucasian C.
These Comfreys, indeed, are admirable plants for rough places—the
tall and vigorous ones thriving in a ditch or any similar place, and
flowering much better and longer than they ever did in the garden
proper, in prim borders. There are about twenty species, mostly from
Southern and Central Europe, Asia, and Siberia.
I purposely omit the British Forget–me–nots, wishing now chiefly to
show what we may do with exotics quite as hardy as our own wildlings;
and we have another Forget–me–not, not British, which surpasses them
all—the early Myosotis dissitiflora. This is like a patch of the bluest
sky settled down among the moist stones of a rockwork or any similar
spot, before our own Forget–me–not has opened its blue eyes, and is
admirable for blades or banks in wood or shrubbery, especially in moist
districts.
For rocky bare places and sunny sandy banks we have the spreading
Gromwell (Lithospermum prostratum), which, when in flower, looks just
as if some exquisite alpine Gentian had assumed the form of a low bush,
to enable it to hold its own among creeping things and stouter herbs
than accompany it on the Alps. The Gromwells are a large and important
genus but little known in gardens, some of them, like our native kind,
being handsome plants.
Among the fairest plants we have are the Lungworts, Pulmonaria, too
seldom seen, and partly destroyed through exposure on bare dug and
often dry border. The old Pulmonaria (Mertensia virginica) is one
of the loveliest spring flowers ever introduced. It is very rare in
gardens, but if placed in a moist place near a stream, or in a peat
bottom, it will live; whereas it frequently dies in a garden. The newer
and more easily grown Mertensia sibirica is a lovely plant, taller
and flowering longer. These two plants alone would repay any one for
a trial of the wild garden, and will illustrate the fact that for the
sake of culture alone (apart from art, beauty, or arrangement) the
wild–garden idea is worth carrying out.
Among the many plants suitable for the wild garden none look more at
home than Borage, a few seeds of which scattered over fresh dry ground
soon germinate, and form fine patches that will flower during the
summer. Although only an annual, once it is introduced there is no
fear of losing it, as it comes up somewhere near the same spot each
succeeding year, and when in bloom the peculiar Solanum–like shape of
the blossoms, and their rich blue colour, make it beautiful.
The Cretan Borage is a curious old perennial, seldom seen in gardens;
and deservedly so, for its growth is robust and its habit coarse.
It is, however, a capital plant for the wild garden, or for rough
places—in copse, or shrubbery, or lane, where the ample room which it
requires would not be begrudged, and where it may take care of itself
from year to year, showing among the boldest and the hardiest of the
early spring flowers.
[Illustration: The Cretan Borage (Borago Cretica).]
Thus, though I say little of the Alkanet (Anchusa) tribe, several of
which could be found worth a place with our own handsome Evergreen
Alkanet, and do not mention other important genera, it will be seen
that a whole garden of beauty may be reaped from this tribe alone. Any
one who doubts the advantages of carrying out the idea of the wild
garden could settle the matter to his satisfaction in a couple of years
with these plants alone, in a shrubbery, ditch, lane, copse, or wood,
always providing that he takes care to adapt each kind to the position
and the soil. For instance, the Giant Comfrey will grow six feet high
in rich or moist soil in a partially shaded ditch, and therefore,
once fairly started, might be trusted to take care of itself in any
position. The Caucasian Comfrey, on the other hand, grows from eighteen
inches to two feet high, and is at home in the spaces in a copse or
shrubbery. The creeping Forget–me–not (Ompalodes verna) is a little
plant that creeps about in grass or among vegetation, not over a span
high, or forms a carpet of its own—these points must be considered,
and then the rest is gardening of the happiest kind only. These
Borageworts, richer in blue flowers than even the gentians, are usually
poor rusty things in exposed sunny borders, and also much in the way
when out of flower, whereas in shady lanes, copses, open parts of not
too dry or impoverished shrubberies, in hedgerow–banks, or ditches, we
only notice them in their beautiful bloom.
[Illustration: Flowers of Geneva Bugle (Ajuga genevensis), Dwarf
Boragewort.]
[Illustration: Star of Bethlehem in Grass.]
CHAPTER III.
EXAMPLE FROM HARDY BULBS AND TUBERS IN GRASS.
We will now turn from the Forget–me–not order to a very different
type of vegetation—hardy bulbs and other plants dying down after
flowering early in the year, like the Winter Aconite and the Blood–root
(Sanguinaria). How many of us really enjoy the beauty which a judicious
use of a profusion of hardy Spring–flowering Bulbs affords? How many
get beyond the miserable conventionalities of the flower–garden, with
its edgings and patchings, and taking up, and drying, and mere playing
with our beautiful Spring Bulbs? How many enjoy the exquisite beauty
afforded by flowers of this class, established naturally, without
troubling us for attention at any time? The subject of decorating with
Spring–flowering Bulbs is merely in its infancy; at present we merely
place a few of the showiest of them in geometrical lines. The little we
do leads to such a very poor result, that numbers of people, alive to
the real charms of a garden too, scarcely notice Spring Bulbs at all,
regarding them as things which require endless trouble, as interfering
with the “bedding–out;” and in fact, as not worth the pains they
occasion. This is likely to be the case so long as the most effective
and satisfactory of all modes of arranging them is unused; that way is
the placing of them in wild and semi–wild parts of country seats, and
in the rougher parts of a garden, no matter where it may be situated
or how it may be arranged. This way will yield more real interest and
beauty than any other.
Look, for instance, at the wide and bare belts of grass that wind in
and around the shrubberies in nearly every country place; frequently,
they never display a particle of plant–beauty, and are merely places to
be roughly mown now and then. But if planted here and there with the
Snowdrop, the blue Anemone, the Crocus, Scillas, and Winter Aconite,
they would in spring surpass in attractiveness the gayest of spring
gardens. Cushioned among the grass, these would have a more congenial
medium in which to unfold than is offered by the beaten sticky earth
of a border; in the grass of spring, their natural bed, they would
look far better than ever they do when arranged on the bare earth of
a garden. Once carefully planted, they—while an annual source of the
greatest interest—occasion no trouble whatever.
[Ilustration: The association of exotic and British wild flowers in the
Wild Garden.—The Bell–flowered Scilla, naturalised with our own Wood
Hyacinth.]
Their leaves die down so early in spring that they would scarcely
interfere with the mowing of the grass, if that were desired, but I
should not attempt to mow the grass in such places till the season
of vernal beauty had quite passed by. Surely it is enough to have a
portion of lawn as smooth as a carpet at all times, without sending
the mower to shave the “long and pleasant grass” of the other parts
of the grounds. It would indeed be worth while to leave many parts of
the grass unmown for the sake of growing many beautiful plants in it.
If in some spot where a wide fringe of grass spreads out in the bay of
a shrubbery or plantation, and upon this carpet of rising and unshaven
verdure there be dotted, in addition to the few pretty natural flowers
that happened to take possession of it, the blue Apennine Anemone, the
Snowdrop, the Snowflake, Crocuses in variety, Scillas, Grape–Hyacinths,
earlier and smaller Narcissi, the Wood Anemone, and any other pretty
Spring flowers that were suitable to the soil and position, we should
have a glimpse of the vernal beauty of temperate and northern climes,
every flower relieved by grass blades and green leaves, the whole
devoid of any trace of man, or his exceeding weakness for tracing
wall–paper patterns, where everything should be varied, indefinite, and
changeful. In such a garden it would be evident that the artist had
caught the true meaning of nature in her disposition of vegetation,
without sacrificing one jot of anything of value in the garden, but,
on the contrary, adding the highest beauty to spots devoid of the
slightest interest. In connection with this matter I may as well say
here that _mowing the grass once a fortnight in pleasure grounds, as
now practised, is a great and costly mistake_. We want shaven carpets
of grass here and there, but what cruel nonsense both to men and grass
it is to shave as many foolish men shave their faces! There are indeed
places where they boast of mowing forty acres! Who would not rather see
the waving grass with countless flowers than a close shaven surface
without a blossom? Imagine the labour wasted in this ridiculous labour
of cutting the heads off flowers and grass. Let the grass grow till
fit to cut for hay, and we may enjoy in it a world of lovely flowers
that will blossom and perfect their growth before the grass has to be
mown; more than one person who has carried out the ideas expressed in
this book has waving lawns of feathery grass where he used to shave
the grass every ten days; a prairie of flowers where a daisy was not
allowed to peep; and some addition to his hay crop as he allows the
grass to grow till it is fit for that purpose.
It is not only to places in which shrubberies, and plantations, and
belts of grass in the rougher parts of the pleasure–ground, and shady
moss–bordered wood–walks occur that these remarks apply. The suburban
garden, with its single fringe of planting, may show like beauty,
to some extent. It may have the Solomon’s Seal arching forth from a
shady recess, behind tufts of the sweet–scented Narcissus, while in
every case there may be wild fringes of strong and hardy flowers in
the spring sun, and they cannot be cut off by harsh winds as when
exposed in the open garden. What has already been stated is, I hope,
sufficient to show to everybody the kind of place that may be used for
their culture. Wild and semi–wild places, rough banks in or near the
pleasure–ground or flower–garden, such spots as perhaps at present
contain nothing but weeds, or any naturally rough or unused spot about
a garden—such are the places for them. Even where all the lawn must be
mown the Snowdrop may be enjoyed in early spring, for its leaves die
down, or at all events ripen sufficiently before there is any occasion
to mow the grass.
[Illustration: The Turk’s Cap Lily, naturalised in the grass by
wood–walk.]
But the prettiest results are only attainable where the grass need not
be mown till nearly the time the meadows are mown. Then we may have
gardens of Narcissi, such as men never dared to dream about a dozen
years ago; such as no one ever thought possible in a garden. In grass
not mown at all we may even enjoy many of the Lilies, and all the
lovelier and more stately bulbous flowers of the meadows and mountain
lawns of Europe, Asia, and America.
On a stretch of good grass which need not be mown, and on fairly good
soil in any part of our country, beauty may be enjoyed such as has
hitherto only gladdened the heart of the rare wanderer on the high
mountain lawns and copses, in May when the earth children laugh in
multitudes on their mother’s breast.
All planting in the grass should be in natural groups or prettily
fringed colonies, growing to and fro as they like after planting.
Lessons in this grouping are to be had in woods, copses, heaths, and
meadows, by those who look about them as they go. At first many will
find it difficult to get out of formal masses, but that may be got over
by studying natural groupings of wild flowers. Once established, the
plants soon begin to group themselves in a way that leaves nothing to
desire.
[Illustration: Crocuses in turf, in grove of Summer leafing trees.]
[Illustration: Group of Globe flowers (Trollius) in marshy place: type
of the nobler Northern flowers little cultivated in gardens.]
CHAPTER IV.
EXAMPLE FROM THE GLOBE FLOWER ORDER.
Let us next see what may be done with the Buttercup order of plants.
It embraces many things widely diverse in aspect from these burnished
ornaments of northern meadows and mountains. The first thing I should
take from it to embellish the wild wood is the sweet–scented Virgin’s
Bower (Clematis flammula), a native of the south of Europe, but as
hardy and free in all parts of Britain as the common Hawthorn. And
as the Hawthorn sweetens the breath of early summer, so will this
add fragrance to the autumnal months. It is never to be seen half so
beautiful as when crawling over some tree or decayed stump; and if
its profuse masses of white bloom do not attract, its fragrance is
sure to do so. An open glade in a wood, or open spaces on banks near
a wood or shrubbery, would be charming for it, while in the garden
or pleasure–ground it may be used as a creeper over old stumps,
trellising, or the like. Clematis campaniflora, with flowers like a
campanula, and of a pale purplish hue, and the beautiful white Clematis
montana grandiflora, a native of Nepaul, are almost equally beautiful,
and many others of the family are worthy of a place, rambling over
old trees, bushes, hedgerows, or tangling over banks. These single
wild species of Clematis are more graceful than the large Hybrids now
common; they are very hardy and free. In mild and seashore districts
a beautiful kind, common in Algeria, and in the islands on and the
shores of the Mediterranean (Clematis cirrhosa), will be found
most valuable—being nearly evergreen, and flowering very early in
spring—even in winter in the South of England.
[Illustration: The Mountain Clematis (C. montana).]
Next in this order we come to the Wind Flowers, or Anemones, and here
we must pause to select, for more beautiful flowers do not adorn this
world of flowers. Have we a bit of rich grass not mown? If so, the
beautiful downy white and yellow Anemones of the Alps (A. alpina and A.
sulphurea) may be grown there. Any sunny bushy bank or southern slope
which we wish to embellish with vernal beauty? Then select Anemone
blanda, a small but lovely blue kind; place it in open bare spots to
begin with, as it is very dwarf, and it will at Christmas, and from
that time onward through the spring, open its large flowers of the
deepest sky blue. The common garden Anemone (A. Coronaria) will not be
fastidious, but had better be placed in open bare sandy places; and the
splendid Anemone fulgens will prove most attractive, as it glows with
fiery scarlet. Of other Anemones, hardy, free, and beautiful enough
to be made wild in our shrubberies, pleasure–grounds, and wilds, the
Japan Anemone (A. japonica) and its white varieties, A. trifolia and
A. sylvestris, are the best of the exotic species. The Japan Anemones
grow so strongly that they will take care of themselves even among
stiff brushwood, brambles, etc.; and they are beautifully fitted for
scattering along the low, half–wild margins of shrubberies and groups.
The interesting little A. trifolia is not unlike our own wood Anemone,
and will grow in similar places.
[Illustration: The White Japan Anemone in the Wild Garden.]
Few plants are more lovely in the wild garden than the White Japan
Anemone. The idea of the wild garden first arose in the writer’s
mind as a home for a numerous class of coarse–growing plants, to
which people begrudge room in their borders, such as the Golden Rods,
Michaelmas Daisies, Compass plants, and a host of others, which are
beautiful for a season only, or perhaps too rampant for what are called
choice borders and beds. This Anemone is one of the most beautiful of
garden flowers, and one which is as well suited for the wild garden
as the kinds alluded to. It grows well in any good soil in copse or
shrubbery, and increases rapidly. Partial shade seems to suit it; and
in any case the effect of the large white flowers is, if anything, more
beautiful in half–shady places. The flowers, too, are more lasting here
than where they are fully exposed.
As for the Apennine Anemone (the white as well as the blue variety),
it is one of the loveliest spring flowers of any clime, and should be
in every garden, in the borders, and scattered thinly here and there
in woods and shrubberies, so that it may become “naturalised.” It is
scarcely a British flower, being a native of the south of Europe; but
having strayed into our wilds and plantations occasionally, it is now
included in most books on British plants. The yellow A. ranunculoides,
a doubtful native, found in one or two spots, but not really British,
is well worth growing, thriving well on the chalk, and being very
beautiful.
The large Hepatica angulosa will grow almost as freely as Celandine
among shrubs and in half–shady spots, and we all know how readily the
old kinds grow on all garden soils of ordinary quality. There are about
ten or twelve varieties of the common Hepatica (Anemone Hepatica) grown
in British nurseries and gardens, and all the colours of the species
should be represented in every collection of spring flowers.
[Illustration: Anemones in the Riviera. Thrive equally well in any open
soil here, only flowering later.]
There are many of the Ranunculi, not natives of Britain, which would
grow as freely as our native kinds. Many will doubtless remember with
pleasure the pretty button–like white flowers of the Fair Maids of
France (Ranunculus aconitifolius fl. pl.), a frequent ornament of
the old mixed border. This, and the wild form from which it comes—a
frequent plant in alpine meadows—may also be enjoyed in our wild
garden. Quite distinct from all these, and of chastest beauty when well
grown, is R. amplexicaulis, with flowers of pure white, and simple
leaves of a dark glaucous green and flowing graceful outline; a hardy
and charming plant on almost any soil. This is one of the elegant
exotic forms of a family well represented in the golden type in our
meadows, and therefore it is welcome as giving us a strange form. Such
a plant deserves that pains be taken to establish it in good soil, in
spots where a rank vegetation may not weaken or destroy it.
Of the Globe Flowers (Trollius), there are various kinds apart from our
own, all rich in colour, fragrant, and hardy in a remarkable degree.
These are among the noblest wild–garden plants—quite hardy, free of
growth in the heaviest of soil and wettest of climates, affording a
lovely type of early summer flower–life, and one distinct from any
usually seen in our fields or gardens; for these handsome Globe flowers
are among the many flowers that for years have found no place in the
garden proper. They are lovely in groups or colonies, in cold grassy
places, where many other plants would perish.
[Illustration: The Green Hellebore in the Wild Garden.]
The Winter Aconite (Eranthis hyemalis) should be naturalised in every
country seat in Britain—it is as easy to do so as to introduce the
thistle. It may be placed quite under the branches of deciduous trees,
will come up and flower when the trees are naked, will have its foliage
developed before the leaves come on the trees, and be afterwards
hidden from sight. Thus masses of this earliest flower may be grown
without the slightest sacrifice of space, and only be noticed when
bearing a bloom on every little stem. That fine old little plant, the
Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger), likes partial shade better than
full exposure, and should be used abundantly, giving it rather snug
and warm positions, so that its flowers may be encouraged to open
well and fully. Any other kinds might also be used. Recently many
kinds of Helleborus have been added to our gardens, not all of them
so conspicuous at first sight as the Christmas Rose, yet they are of
remarkable beauty of foliage and habit as well as of blossom, and they
flower in the spring. These, too, show the advantage of the wild garden
as regards cultivation. They will _thrive much better in any bushy
places, or copses, or in mutually sheltering groups on warm banks and
slopes, even in hedge banks, old quarries, or rough mounds, than in the
ordinary garden border_. Of the difference in the effect in the two
cases it is needless to speak.
Some of the Monkshoods are very handsome, but all of them virulent
poisons; and, bearing in mind what fatal accidents have arisen from
their use, they are better not used at all in the garden proper.
Amongst tall and vigorous herbaceous plants few are more suitable
for wild and semi–wild places. They are hardy and robust enough to
grow anywhere in shady or half–shady spots; and their tall spikes,
loaded with blue flowers, are very beautiful. An illustration in the
chapter on the plants suited for the wild garden shows the common
Aconite in a Somersetshire valley in company with the Butterbur and
the Hemlock. In such a place its beauty is very striking. The larger
rich blue kinds, and the blue and white one, are very showy grown in
deep soils, in which they attain a great height. When out of flower,
like many other stately Perennials, they were often stiff and ugly in
the old borders and beds. In the wild garden their stately beauty will
be more remarkable than ever under the green leaves in copses and by
streams. And when flower–time is gone, their stems, no longer tied into
bundles or cut in by the knife, will group finely with other vigorous
herbaceous vegetation.
The Delphiniums, or tall Perennial Larkspurs, are amongst the most
beautiful of all flowers. They embrace almost every shade of blue, from
the rich dark tone of D. grandiflora to the charming cærulean tints
of such as D. Belladonna; and being usually of a tall and strong type,
will make way among long grasses and vigorous weeds, unlike many things
for which we have to recommend an open space, or a wood with nothing
but a carpet of moss under the trees.
[Illustration: Tall Perennial Larkspurs, naturalised in Shrubbery
(1878).]
One of the prettiest effects which I have ever seen was a colony of
tall Larkspurs. Portions of old roots of several species and varieties
had been chopped off when a bed of these plants was dug in the autumn.
For convenience sake the refuse had been thrown into the neighbouring
shrubbery, far in among the shrubs and trees. Here they grew in
half–open spaces, which were so far removed from the margin that they
were not dug and were not seen. When I saw the Larkspurs in flower they
were certainly the loveliest things that one could see. They were more
beautiful than they are in borders or beds, not growing in such close
stiff tufts, but mingling with and relieved by the trees above and the
shrubs around. Little more need be said to any one who knows and cares
about such plants, and has an opportunity of planting in such neglected
places. This case points out that one might make wild gardens from the
mere parings and thinnings of the beds and borders in autumn in any
place where there is a collection of good hardy plants.
The engraving on the next page represents one of the most beautiful
effects obtained in his wild garden by an acquaintance of mine who
began when he knew very little of plants and their favoured haunts,
and succeeded well in a not very favourable site. Herbaceous Pæonies
were amongst those that succeeded best. The effect was very beautiful,
either close at hand or seen at a considerable distance off. Herbaceous
Pæonies are amongst the most free, vigorous, and hardy of perennial
plants, and with them alone most novel and beautiful effects may be
carried out in most places where there is room. Even in comparatively
small gardens, a group or two outside the margin of a shrubbery would
be desirable. The effect of the blooms amongst the long grass of the
wild garden is finer than any they present in borders, and when out of
flower they do not seem to be in the way, as they often are thought
to be when in borders and beds. It is almost needless to speak here
of the great variety of forms now obtainable amongst these herbaceous
Pæonies, many of which are agreeably scented. The older forms were not
remarkable in that respect, but rather the contrary. In addition to the
splendour of colour for which Pæonies are long and well known, there
are now many delicately–coloured and tinted varieties. The whole race
is undeservedly neglected. People spend plenty of money on greenhouses
which will never produce anything so handsome as a well–grown group of
herbaceous Pæonies in the open garden; yet when they are grown they are
often begrudged a few feet of good soil, though that is all they would
require for years at a time. My friend’s Pæonies formed a group that
could be seen from a distance; when I saw them they were surrounded by
long and waving grass. I cannot give any idea of the fine effect.
[Illustration: Double Crimson Pæonies in grass.]
The Clematis–like Atragene alpina is one of my favourite flowers—seldom
seen now–a–days, or indeed at any time, out of a botanical garden, and
till lately not often seen in one. It likes to trail over an old stump,
or through a thin low bush, or over a rocky bank, and it is a perfectly
hardy plant. Speaking of such plants as this, one would like to draw
a sharp distinction between them and the various weedy and indistinct
subjects which are now creeping into cultivation owing to the revival
of interest in hardy plants. Many of these have some botanical
interest, but they can be only useless in the garden. Our chief danger
now is getting plants into cultivation which are neither very distinct
nor very beautiful, while perhaps we neglect many of the really fine
kinds. This Atragene is a precious plant for low bush and bank wild
garden.
Among plants which one never sees, and which, indeed, one never
ought to see, in a flower garden, are the Meadow Rues; and yet there
is a quiet beauty and grace about these plants which entitle them
to some consideration; and the flowers, too, of certain species,
particularly the one here shown in the illustration on page 1, are of
singular beauty. When it is considered that all the species will grow
anywhere—in any hedgerow or lane or byeway, or among coarse grass, or
in a copse, or under the shrubs, in places usually abandoned to common
weeds, there is no reason why numbers of them should not be rescued
from the oblivion of the botanic garden.
CHAPTER V.
PLANTS CHIEFLY FITTED FOR THE WILD GARDEN.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The Giant Scabious (8 feet high).
(Cephalaria procera.)]
What first suggested the idea of the wild garden, and even the name
to me, was the desire to provide a home for a great number of exotic
plants that are unfitted for garden culture in the old sense. Many of
these plants have great beauty when in flower, and perhaps at other
seasons, but they are frequently so free and vigorous in growth that
they overrun and destroy all their more delicate neighbours. Many, too,
are so coarse that they are objectionable in choice borders, and after
flowering they leave a blank or a mass of unsightly stems. These plants
are unsightly in gardens, and the main cause of the neglect of hardy
flowers; yet many are beautiful at certain stages. A tall Harebell, for
example, stiffly tied up in a garden border, as has been the fashion
where plants of this kind have been grown at all, is at best of times
an unsightly object; but the same plant growing amongst the long
grass in a thin wood is lovely. The Golden–rods and Michaelmas Daisies
used to overrun the old mixed border, and were with it abolished.
But even the poorest of these seen together in a New England wood in
autumn form a picture. So also there are numerous exotic plants of
which the individual flowers may not be so striking, but which, grown
in groups and colonies, and seen at some little distance off, afford
beautiful aspects of vegetation, and quite new so far as gardens are
concerned. When I first wrote this book, not one of these plants was
in cultivation outside botanic gardens. It was even considered by the
best friends of hardy flowers a mistake to recommend one of them,
for they knew that it was the predominance of these weedy vigorous
subjects that made people give up hardy flowers for the sake of the
glare of bedding plants; therefore, the wild garden in the case of
these particular plants opens up to us a new world of infinite and
strange beauty. In it every plant vigorous enough not to require the
care of the cultivator or a choice place in the mixed border will
find a home. Of such plants there are numbers in every northern and
mountainous country, which travellers may gather and afterwards grow
in their own gardens. The taller Achilleas, the stately Aconites, the
seldom–seen Actæas, the huge and vigorous, but at certain seasons
handsome, Althæas, Angelica with its fine foliage, the herbaceous
kinds of Aralia from the American woods, also with fine foliage, the
Wormwood family (Artemisia), the stronger kinds of American cotton–weed
(Asclepias), certain of the vigorous species of Asparagus, Asters and
their allies in great variety, the larger and more vigorous species of
Astragalus, certain of the larger species of Betonica, pretty, and with
delicate flowers, but hardly fit for the mixed border, various free
and vigorous exotic Grasses, large and showy Bupthalmums, the handsome
creeping Bindweeds, too free in a garden, the most vigorous Campanulas,
exotic Thistles (Carduus) and their allies, the more remarkable kinds
of Carex, numerous Centaureas, somewhat too coarse for the garden; and
among other strong and hardy genera, the following are chiefly suitable
for the wild garden:
Crambe. Galega. Rhaponticum.
Digitalis. Helenium. Rheum.
Dipsacus. Helianthus. Rudbeckia.
Doronicum. Heracleum. Scolymus.
Echinacea. Inula. Senecio.
Echinops. Kitaibelia. Sida.
Elymus. Lavatera. Silphium.
Epilobium. Ligularia. Solidago.
Eryngium. Ligusticum. Sonchus.
Eupatorium. Mulgedium. Symphytum.
Euphorbia. Onopordon. Veratrum.
Ferula. Phytolacca. Verbascum.
Funkia. Polygonum. Vernonia.
[Illustration: Giant Cow Parsnip. Type of Great Siberian herbaceous
vegetation.
For rough places only.]
CHAPTER VI.
DITCHES AND NARROW SHADY LANES, COPSES, HEDGEROWS, AND THICKETS.
[Illustration: Foliage of Dipsacus, on hedge–bank in spring.]
Men usually seek sunny positions for their gardens, so that even those
obliged to be contented with the north side of the hill would scarcely
appreciate some of the above–named positions. What, the gloomy and
weedy dyke as a garden! Yes, there are ditches, dry and wet, in every
district, that may readily be made more beautiful than many a “modern
flower–garden.” But what would grow in them? Many of the beautiful
wood and shade–loving plants of our own and similar latitudes—things
that love not the open sunny hill–sides or wide meadows, but take
shelter in the stillness of deep woods or in dark valleys, are happy
deep between riven rocks, and gaily occupy the little dark caves
beneath the great boulders on many a horror–stricken mountain gorge,
and which garland with inimitable grace the vast flanks of rock that
guard the dark courses of the rivers on their paths through the hills.
And as these dark walls, ruined by ceaseless pulse of the torrent, are
beautiful exceedingly, how much more may we make all the shady dykes
and narrow lanes that occur everywhere! For while the nymph–gardener of
the ravine may depend for her novelties on the stray grains of seeds
brought in the moss by the robin when building her nest, or on the
mercy of the hurrying wave, we may place side by side the snowy white
wood lily (Trillium grandiflorum), whose home is in the shades of the
American woods, with the twin flower of Scotland and northern Europe,
and find both thrive on the same spot in happy companionship. And so
in innumerable instances. And not only may we be assured of numbers of
the most beautiful plants of other countries thriving in deep ditches
and in like positions, but also that not a few of them, like the white
wood lily, will thrive much better in them than in any position in
garden borders. This plant, when in perfection, has a flower as fair
as any white lily, while it is seldom a foot high; but, in consequence
of being a shade–loving and wood plant, it usually perishes in the
ordinary garden bed or border, while in a shady dyke or any like
position it will be found to thrive as well as in its native woods; and
if in deep, free, sandy, or vegetable soil, to grow so as not to be
surpassed in loveliness by anything seen in our stoves or greenhouses.
Our wild flowers take possession of the stiff, formal, and shorn
hedges that seam the land, often draping them with such inimitable
grace that half the conservatories in the country, with their
collections of small red pots and small mean plants are stiff and poor
compared with a few yards’ length of their blossomy verdure. The Wild
Roses, Purple Vetch, Honeysuckle, and the Virgin’s Bower, clamber above
smaller, but not less pretty, wildlings, and throw a veil of graceful
life over the mutilated shrubs, reminding us of the plant–life in the
nest–like thickets of dwarf shrubs that one often meets on the high
Alpine meadows. In these islets of bushes in a sea of grass one may
gather flowers after they have been all browsed down on the turf. Next
to the most interesting aspects of Alpine vegetation, there is perhaps
nothing in the world of plant–life more lovely than the delicate
tracery of low–climbing things wedded to the bushes in all northern
and temperate regions of the earth. Perishing like the grass, they are
happy and safe in the earth’s bosom in winter; in spring they come
up as the buds swell, and soon after, finding the bushes once more
enjoyable, rush over them as joyously as children from school over
a meadow of cowslips. Over bush, over brake, on mountain or lowland
copse, holding on with delicate but unyielding grasp, they engrave
themselves on the mind as the central type of grace. In addition to
climbing Pea–flowers, Convolvuluses, etc., of which the stems perish
in winter, we have the great tribes of wild vines, noble in foliage
and often in fruit, the numerous Honeysuckles, from coral red to pale
yellow, all beautiful; and the Clematidæ, rich, varied, and lovely
beyond description, from those of which each petal reminds one of the
wing of some huge tropical butterfly, to those with small flowers
borne in showers like drops from a fountain jet, and often sweet as
Hawthorn blossoms.
[Illustration: The large white Bindweed, type of nobler climbing
plants, with annual stems. For copses, hedgerows, and shrubberies.]
This climbing vegetation may be trained and tortured into forms in
gardens, but never will its beauty be seen until we entrust it to
the garlanding of shrub, and copse, or hedgerow, fringes of dwarf
plantation, or groups of shrubs and trees. All to be done is to put in
a few tufts of any desired kind, and leave them alone, adapting the
kind to the position. The large, flesh–coloured Bindweed, for example,
would be best in rough places, out of the pale of the pleasure–ground
or garden, so that its roots would not spread where they could do harm,
while a delicate Clematis might be placed beneath the choicest specimen
Conifer, and allowed to paint its rich green with fair flowers. In
nature we frequently see a Honeysuckle clambering up through an old
Hawthorn tree, and then struggling with it as to which should produce
the greatest profusion of blossoms—but in gardens not yet. Some may
say that this cannot be done in gardens; but it can be done infinitely
better in gardens than it has ever been done in nature; because,
for gardens we can select plants from many countries. We can effect
contrasts, in which nature is poor in any one place in consequence of
the comparatively few plants that naturally inhabit one spot of ground.
People seldom remember that “the art itself is nature;” and foolish old
laws laid down by landscape–gardeners are yet fertile in perpetuating
the notion that a garden is a “work of art, and therefore we must not
attempt in it to imitate nature.”
[Illustration: The Nootka Bramble; type of free–growing flowering
shrub. For copses and woods.]
Sometimes, where there are large and bare slopes, an excellent effect
may be obtained by planting the stouter climbers, such as the Vines,
Mountain Clematis, and Honeysuckles, in groups or masses on the grass,
away from shrubs or low trees; while, when the banks are precipitous or
the rocks crop forth, we may allow a curtain of climbers to fall over
them.
Endless charming combinations may be made in this way in many spots
near most country houses. The following genera are among the climbing
and clinging hardy plants most suitable for garlanding copses,
hedges, and thickets:—Everlasting Peas (many kinds), the hardy exotic
Honeysuckles, Clematis (wild species mainly), the common Jasmine,
the double Bramble, Vines (American and the common varieties), single
Roses, the Virginian creepers (Ampelopsis), the large Bindweed
(Calystegia dahurica), Aristolochia Sipho, and A. tomentosa, and
several of the perennial Tropæolums, T. pentaphyllum, speciosum, and
tuberosum. The hardy Smilax, too, are very handsome, and the Canadian
Moonseed, only suitable for this kind of gardening.
Among the families of plants that are suitable for the various
positions enumerated at the head of this chapter may be named—Acanthus,
any variety, Viola, both the sweet varieties and some of the large
scentless kinds, the Periwinkle, Speedwells, Globe Flowers, Trilliums,
Plume Ferns (Struthiopteris), and many other kinds, the Lily of the
Valley and its many varieties and allies, the Canadian Bloodwort, the
Winter Greens (Pyrola), Solomon’s Seal, and allied exotic species, the
May Apple, Orobus in variety, Narcissi, many, the Common Myrrh, the
perennial Lupin, hardy common Lilies, the Snowflakes, all kinds of
Everlasting Peas and allied plants, admirable for scrambling through
low hedges and over bushes, Windflowers, the taller and stronger kinds
in lanes and hedgerows, the various Christmas Roses which will repay
for shelter, the European kinds of Gladiolus, such as segetum and
Colvilli, the taller and more vigorous Cranes Bills (Geranium), the
Snake’s Head (Fritillaria) in variety, Strawberries of any variety
or species, the beautiful Plume–leaved Giant Fennel, Dog’s Tooth
Violets in bare spots or spots bare in spring, the Winter Aconite, the
Barren Worts, for peaty spots or leaf soil, the May Flower, for sandy
poor soil under trees, the Dentaria, the coloured and showier forms
of Primroses, Oxslips, Polyanthus, the hardy European Cyclamens in
carefully chosen spots, Crocuses in places under branches and trees not
bearing leaves in Spring, the yellow and pink Coronilla (C. montana
and C. varia), the larger forms of Bindweed, many of the taller and
finer Harebells, Starworts (Aster), for hedgerows, and among the
taller plants the Italian Cuckoo Pint (Arum), and also the Dragons,
for warm sandy soils, the Monkshoods which people fear in gardens and
which do admirably in many positions; the different species of Onion,
also unwelcome in gardens, some of which are very beautiful, as, for
example, the White Provence kind and the old yellow garden Allium
(Moly). With the above almost exclusively exotic things and our own
wild flowers and ferns beautiful colonies may be made.
[Illustration: The Yellow Allium (A. Moly) naturalised.]
CHAPTER VII.
DRAPERY FOR TREES AND BUSHES.
[Illustration]
The numerous hardy climbers which we possess are very rarely seen to
advantage, owing to their being stiffly trained against walls. Indeed,
the greater number of hardy climbers have gone out of cultivation
mainly for this reason. One of the happiest of all ways of using them
is that of training them in a free manner over trees; in this way
many beautiful effects may be secured. Established trees have usually
exhausted the ground near their base, which may, however, afford
nutriment to a hardy climbing shrub. In some low trees the graceful
companion may garland their heads; in tall ones the stem only may at
first be adorned. But some vigorous climbers could in time ascend the
tallest trees, and there can be nothing more beautiful than a veil of
such a one as Clematis montana suspended from the branch of a tall
tree. A whole host of lovely plants may be seen to great advantage in
this way, apart from the well–known and popular climbing plants. There
are, for example, many species of Clematis which have never come into
cultivation, but which are quite as beautiful as any climbers. The same
may be said of the Honeysuckles, wild Vines, and various other families
of which the names may be found in catalogues. Much of the northern
tree and shrub world is garlanded with creepers, which may be grown in
similar ways, as, for example, on banks and in hedgerows. The trees in
our pleasure–grounds, however, have the first claim on our attention
in planting garlands. There would seldom be need to fear injury to
established trees.
[Illustration: Large White Clematis on Yew tree at Great Tew. (C.
montana grandiflora.)]
Some time ago I saw a Weeping Willow, on the margin of a lake, that had
its trunk clothed with Virginian Creeper, and the effect in autumn,
when the sun shone through the drooping branches of the Willow—whose
leaves were just becoming tinged with gold—upon the crimson of the
creeper–covered trunk was very fine. The Hop is a very effective plant
for draping a thin specimen Arbor–vitæ, or Yew tree, but the shoots
should be thinned out in spring, and not more than three or four
allowed to climb up to the tree. When the leader emerges from the top
of the bush, and throws its long, graceful wreaths of Hops over the
dark green foliage, the contrast is most effective. The Wistaria, if
planted before its support has become old, will combine with excellent
effect with any single specimen of not too dense a habit.
[Illustration: The way the climbing plants of the world are crucified
in gardens—winter effect (_a faithful sketch_).]
A correspondent, who has added largely to the charms of a place in
Suffolk by means of the wild garden, writes as follows:—“Some time ago
I discovered and had removed from the woods to the pleasure–grounds a
robust round–headed Holly tree, which had been taken entire possession
of by a wild Honeysuckle, which, originating at the root of the tree,
had scrambled up through the branches to the top, and there, extending
itself in all directions, had formed a large head and hung in festoons
all round—a highly ornamental object indeed. The Holly had endured the
subjection for many years, and still seemed to put forth sufficient
shoots and leaves annually to ensure a steady support to its climbing
companion. The birds also had discovered that the dense and tangled
thicket created by the Honeysuckle was a suitable home for their
young, for inside of it was a regular settlement of nests of various
kinds; and, since the tree has been moved it has been taken complete
possession of again by the bird tribe.” The Honeysuckle in question is
an example of what might be done with such handsome and free growing
climbers and scrambling Roses. What could be more effective, for
instance, than a lofty tree–like mass of the purple and white Clematis
mixed, or either of these alone, or, better still, a gigantic head of
Roses? I throw out these hints for those who choose to act upon them.
Draped trees, such as I have described, may soon be had. I do not know
that a better tree than the Holly could be selected for a support.
Where the trees are not in the place in which they are wanted, they
should be moved about the end of August to the desired situation, and
if some good rich soil—loam and decayed manure—is furnished to the
roots at the same time, it will be in proper condition for climbers in
spring. The latter should be planted pretty closely to the stem of the
tree, and a start should be made with good vigorous plants, whether of
Honeysuckle, Roses, or Clematis. The Roses and other things will want a
little leading off at first till they get hold of their supporters, but
afterwards no pruning or interference should be attempted.
[Illustration: Climbing shrub (Celastrus), isolated on the grass; way
of growing woody Climbers away from walls or other supports.]
Mr. Hovey, in a letter from Boston, Mass., wrote as follows, on certain
interesting aspects of tree drapery:— Some ten or fifteen years ago we
had occasion to plant three or four rows of popular climbers in nursery
rows, about 100 feet long; these consisted of the Virginian creeper,
the Moonseed (Menispermum), Periploca græca, and Celastrus scandens;
subsequently, it happened accidentally that four rows of rather large
Tartarian (so–called) Arbor–vitæs were planted on one side, and about
the same number of rows of Smoke trees, Philadelphus, and Cornus
florida, on the other. For three or four years many of these climbers
were taken up annually until rather too old to remove, and year by
year the Arbor–vitæs and shrubs were thinned out until what were too
large to safely transplant remained. But the land was not wanted then,
and the few scattered trees and climbers grew on while cultivation was
partially neglected, a large specimen being occasionally taken out
until the climbers had fairly taken possession of the trees, and are
now too beautiful to disturb. It forms the most unique specimen of tree
drapery I have ever seen. Some of the Arbor–vitæs are entirely overrun
with the Moonseed (Menispermum), whose large, slightly–scalloped leaves
overlap one another from the ground to the top like slates on a roof.
Over others, the gloomy leaves of the Periploca scramble, and also the
Celastrus, and on still others the deep green leaves of the Ampelopsis
completely festoon the tree; of some trees all four and other climbers
have taken possession; and from among the tops of the Sumach the
feathery tendrils of the Ampelopsis, and, just now, its deep blue
berries hold full sway. And these are not all. The Apios tuberosa is
indigenous, and springs up everywhere as soon as our land is neglected.
This has also overrun several trees, and coils up and wreaths each
outstretching branch with its little bunches of fragrant brownish
coloured flowers. It is the Arbor–vitæs which give the peculiar beauty
of this description of tree drapery. On the deciduous trees the new
growth lengthens rapidly, and the branches soon get far apart; but with
Arbor–vitæs, which always present a round compact head, the effect is
entirely different; they are covered so densely that it is impossible,
in some instances, to say what the tree is that supports the climbers.
One Hemlock Spruce (Abies canadensis) has every branch loaded with
the Apios and profuse with blossoms; but this one sees happen with
other trees. The Smoke tree looks interesting just now, while its
flowers are fresh, but soon they will fade, and the dry tops will be a
disadvantage; but the Arbor–vitæ will remain clothed with the foliage,
flowers, and berries too, of the Celastrus until the autumn frosts have
shorn them of their beauty, and no falling leaves are scattered around.
The Arbor–vitæ is the tree I would recommend when it is desirable to
produce such effects as I have described. When such strong–growing
climbers as Begonias and Wistarias take possession of a shrub they
generally injure it; but the very slender stems of Menispermum and
Apios die entirely to the ground after the first sharp frost, and the
slender stems of the others do not appear to arrest the growth of the
Arbor–vitæs, which are restored when the climbers are down, and, after
full eight months’ rest, are again ready to aid in sustaining their
more dependent companions. The Honeysuckle, the Clematis, and similar
plants might, no doubt, be added to the list, and give more variety,
as well as fragrance and beauty, but I have only detailed the effects
of what has been done, leaving what might be effected for some future
trial.
[Illustration: A Liane in the North. Aristolochia and Deciduous
Cypress.]
But the noblest kind of climbers forming drapery for trees are not
so often seen as some of the general favourites mentioned above. A
neglected group are the wild Vines, plants of the highest beauty, and
which, if allowed to spring through the tall trees, which they would
quickly do, would soon charm by their bold grace. Some of them are
fine in colour of foliage in autumn. With these might be associated,
though not so fine in form, certain free–growing species of Ampelopsis,
grown in some nurseries. The Wistaria is also well worth growing on
trees, in districts where it flowers freely away from walls. In
visiting the garden of MM. Van Eden, at Haarlem, I was surprised to
see a Liane, in the shape of the well–known Aristolochia or Dutchman’s
Pipe, which had clambered high into a fine old deciduous Cypress. Being
much interested in this long–established companionship, I was able to
procure, through the kindness of Messrs. Van Eden, photographs of the
tree and its Liane, from which this illustration was engraved. When I
saw it early in spring the leaves had not appeared on either the tree
or its companion, and the effect of the old rope–like stems was very
picturesque. The Aristolochia ascends to a height of 35 ft. 6 in. on
the tree.
The tree was a superb specimen, and was not in the least injured
by the growth of the climber. What a beautiful effect a graceful
flowering climber would afford in a similar case! Imagine one of the
white–flowered Clematis (which may be seen as many as over forty feet
in height under suitable conditions) garlanding such a tree, or any
tree, with wreaths of fragrant blossoms. Strange and lovely aspects of
vegetation may be created in our pleasure–grounds by the judicious use
of these climbers, varying according to the trees and their position,
and also as to their being evergreen or summer–leafing. Even where one
might fear to injure a valuable tree by a vigorous climber, trees may
easily be found of little value, and much may be done even with the old
or dead trees.
[Illustration: A beautiful accident.—A colony of Myrrhis odorata,
established in shrubbery, with white Harebells here and there. (See p.
60.)]
CHAPTER VIII.
THE COMMON SHRUBBERY, WOODS AND WOODLAND DRIVES.
It must not be thought that the wild garden can only be formed in
places where there is some extent of rough pleasure–ground. Excellent
results may be obtained from the system in comparatively small gardens,
on the fringes of shrubberies and marginal plantations, open spaces
between shrubs, the surface of beds of Rhododendrons, where we may have
plant–beauty instead of garden–graveyards. I call garden–graveyards the
dug shrubbery borders which one sees in nearly all gardens, public or
private. Every shrubbery and plantation surface that is so needlessly
and relentlessly dug over by the gardener every winter, may be
embellished in the way I propose, as well as wild places. The custom of
digging shrubbery borders prevails now in every garden, and there is
in the whole course of gardening no worse or more profitless custom.
When winter is once come, almost every gardener, although animated
with the best intentions, simply prepares to make war upon the roots
of everything in his shrubbery border. The generally–accepted practice
is to trim, and often to mutilate the shrubs, and to dig all over the
surface that must be full of feeding roots. Delicate half–rooted shrubs
are disturbed; herbaceous plants are destroyed; bulbs are displaced and
injured; the roots as well as the tops of shrubs are mutilated; and
a sparse depopulated aspect is given to the margins, while the only
“improvement” that is effected by the process is the annual darkening
of the surface by the upturned earth.
Illustrations of these bad practices occur by miles in our London
parks in winter. Walk through any of them at that season, and observe
the borders around masses of shrubs, choice and otherwise. Instead of
finding the earth covered, or nearly covered, with vegetation close to
the margin, and each individual plant developed into something like a
fair specimen of its kind, we find a spread of recently–dug ground,
and the plants upon it with an air of having recently suffered from a
whirlwind, or some calamity that necessitated the removal of mutilated
branches. Rough–pruners precede the diggers, and bravely trim in the
shrubs for them, so that nothing may be in the way; and then come the
diggers, plunging their spades deeply about plants, shrubs, or trees.
The first shower that occurs after this digging exposes a whole network
of torn–up roots. There is no relief to the spectacle; the same thing
occurs everywhere—in botanic gardens as well as in our large West–end
parks; and year after year is the process repeated.
While such is the case, it will be impossible to have an agreeable
or interesting margin to a shrubbery or plantation. What secrets one
might have in the central hidden portions of these now dug and bare
shrubberies—in the half–shady spots where little colonies of rare
exotic wildlings might have their first introduction to our wild
garden! Of course all the labour required to produce this miserable
result of dug borders is worse than thrown away, as the shrubberies
would do better if let alone, and by utilising the power thus wasted,
we might highly beautify the positions that are now so ugly.
[Illustration: Large White Achilleas spread into wide masses under
shade of trees in shrubbery.]
If we resolve that no annual manuring or digging is to be permitted,
nobody will grudge a thorough preparation at first. When a plantation
of shrubs is quite young it is well to keep the ground open by lightly
stirring it for a year or two. Then the planting should be so arranged
as to defeat the digger. To graduate the vegetation from the taller
subjects behind to the very margin of the grass is of much importance,
and this could be done best by the greater use of dwarf evergreens.
Happily, there is quite enough of these to be had suitable for every
soil. Light, moist, peaty, or sandy soils, where such things as the
sweet–scented Daphne Cneorum would spread forth its dwarf cushions,
would be somewhat more desirable than, say, a stiff clay; but for every
position suitable plants might be found. Look, for example, at what
we could do with the dwarf–green Iberises, Helianthemums, Aubrietias,
Arabises, Alyssums, dwarf shrubs, and little conifers like the creeping
Cedar (Juniperus squamata), and the Tamarix–leaved Juniper, in
spreading groups and colonies. All these are green, and would spread
out into dense wide cushions, covering the margin, rising but little
above the grass, and helping to cut off the formal line which usually
divides margin and border. Behind them we might use other shrubs,
deciduous or evergreen, in endless variety; and of course the margin
should be varied also as regards height.
In one spot we might have a wide–spreading tuft of the prostrate
Savin pushing its graceful evergreen branchlets out over the grass;
in another the dwarf little Cotoneasters might be allowed to form
the front rank, relieved in their turn by pegged–down Roses; and so
on without end. Herbaceous plants, that die down in winter and leave
the ground bare afterwards, should not be assigned any important
position near the front. Evergreen Alpine plants and shrubs, as
before remarked, are perfectly suitable here; but the true herbaceous
type, and the larger bulbs, like Lilies, should be in groups between
spreading shrubs. By so placing them, we should not only secure a far
more satisfactory general effect, but highly improve the aspect of the
herbaceous plants themselves. To carry out such planting properly,
a little more time at first and a great deal more taste than are now
employed would be required; but what a difference in the result! All
that the well–covered borders would require would be an occasional
weeding or thinning, and, in the case of the more select spots, a
little top–dressing with fine soil. Here and there, between and amongst
the plants, such things as Forget–me–nots and Violets, Snowdrops
and Primroses, might be scattered about, so as to give the borders
interest even at the dullest seasons; and thus we should be delivered
from digging and dreariness, and see our once ugly borders alive with
flowers. The chief rule should be—never show the naked earth: clothe
it, and then allow the taller plants to rise in their own way through
the turf or spray. Here is a little sketch of what is meant. A colony
of the white Arabis carpets the ground in which strong hardy Lilies are
growing; and the Lilies are pushing up their bold unfolding shoots. The
latter are none the worse in winter for this light carpet of foliage
over the border; and then for a long time in spring it is bedecked with
white flowers. Indeed, in fairly good seasons it blooms in winter too.
It would take a big book to tell all the charms and merits belonging
to the use of a variety of small plants to carpet the ground beneath
and between those of larger growth. It need hardly be said that this
argument against digging applies to two or three beds of shrubs, and
places where the “shrubbery” is little larger than the dining–room, as
much as to the large country seat, public park, or botanic garden.
[Illustration: Lilies coming up through carpet of White Arabis.]
There are great cultural advantages too, in leaving the whole of the
leaves to nourish the ground and protect it from frost or heat. I
append a note from a correspondent inquiring about what he supposes
practical difficulties, and an answer to them:—
You draw a pretty picture of what a shrubbery border should be and
how it should be kept in winter. There should be no digging, and the
fallen leaves should be left. I fully agree, except as to the leaves.
Theoretically, it seems quite right to allow the leaves to lie and decay
amidst the surrounding plants, but in practice it does not answer. There
are, for instance, in most gardens such things as slugs and snails.
These delight in a leafy covering, and, protected from frost by the
shelter, will prey upon the perennial green leafage and the starting
crowns of the herbaceous plants, and do an immense amount of mischief.
Then there are usually in gardens in winter, especially in hard weather,
blackbirds and thrushes, which in their efforts to obtain food set all
notions of tidiness at defiance. A troop of fowls would hardly turn a
flower border more topsy–turvy than would a few of these birds. The
first storm that came would whirl the disturbed leaves all over the
place, much to the disgust of the cultivator, and the hardy plants would
find that the theory of a natural dressing of leaf manure had broken
down. I detest the forking of borders so common in winter. A moderate
stirring of the surface first with a two or three–tined rake is good,
then a dressing of soot or guano, or both, and over all a thin surfacing
of old pot soil, or the rough screened produce of the rubbish heap,
or, in fact, any kind of refuse soil that may offer. I think that most
cultivators will agree that such a plan would answer better than the
natural, but very inoperative leaf–dressing.—A.
[Illustration: Colony of Narcissus in properly spaced shrubbery.]
How do the swarming herbs of the woods and copses of the world exist in
spite of the slugs? A good protection for them is hard gravel walks and
paths, where they lay their eggs without danger. Against the door one
may do what one likes, but not one leaf would I ever allow removed from
a clump of shrubs or trees on my lawn or in my pleasure ground. I would
prefer the leaves all over the place to a dug border, but I would, if
need be, meet that difficulty by scattering a light dressing of soil
over them. In what I should call a properly managed shrubbery or clump,
with the bushes well spaced, and their branches resting on the ground,
with low shrubs between, and evergreen and other herbs, there are
natural impediments to the leaves rushing about in the way you suppose.
This is a subject of the greatest interest and the utmost practical
importance. Our annual digging mutilation, scraping away of leaves,
and exposing on bare sloppy borders plants that in Nature shelter each
other, and are shielded from bitter frost and burning heat by layers of
fallen leaves, gradually sinking into excellent light surface soil for
the young roots, are ignorant and brutal practices that must be given
up by all who really look into the needs of our hardy garden flora.
With reference to this point, I print this letter from an observer of
what goes on in the woods of New England. Our own woods are full of
lessons, and so it is in all countries. Mr. Falconer’s letter is very
suggestive of the revolution in method which must be carried out in the
gardens of the future:—
I go into the woods in the spring time, and find them carpeted with
Dog’s–tooth Violets, Wood Anemones, blue and purple Hepaticas, Spring
beauty, Trilliums, Blood–root, Star–flowers, False Solomon’s Seal,
Gold Thread, trailing Arbutus, wild Ginger, and a host of other
pretty little flowers, all bright and gay, arising from their bed of
decaying herbage and tree leaves, and many of them are in perfection,
too, before a tree has spread a leaf; and thus they glow and revel in
their cosy bed, fed and sheltered by their tree friends. When their
petals drop and their leaves are mature, the trees expand their leafy
canopy and save the little nurslings from the torture of a scorching
sun. And early as the earliest, too, the outskirts of the woods and
meadows with hosts of Violets are painted blue and white, and speckled
everywhere with Bluets, or little Innocents, as the children call them.
Woodsias, tiny Aspleniums, and other Ferns are unfolding their fronds
along the chinks among the stones; the common Polypody is reaching over
blocks and boulders; and even the exposed rocks, with their rough and
Lichen–bearded faces, are aglow in vernal pride. Every nook and cranny
among them, and little mat of earth upon them are checkered with the
flowery print of the Canada Columbine, the Virginia Saxifrage, and the
glaucous Corydalis. But to the carpet. What can be prettier or more
appropriate than the Partridge–berry (Mitchella repens), the Twin–flower
(Linnæa borealis—does well with us), Creeping Winter Green (Gaultheria
procumbens), Bearberry (Arctostaphylos Uva–Ursi), Cowberry (Vaccinium
Vitis–idæa), Dwarf Cornel (Cornus canadensis), Fringed Polygala (P.
paucifolia), the Common Pipsissewa (Chimaphila umbellata) with its
shining deep green leaves, the Spotted Pipsissewa (C. maculata), the
sombre–hued Pyrola and Galax, and that bright and easily–grown Club Moss
(Lycopodium lucidulum)? Add to these such plants as Winter Aconite,
Apennine Anemone, Creeping Forget–me–not, and the like, together with a
few of the most suitable kinds of the host of bulbous ornamental plants
which we now possess, and our shrubbery carpets may be replete with
garden jewels. It is now generally conceded that shrubs thrive better in
beds whose surface is undisturbed than where it is annually loosened by
digging or pointing. This, coupled with a yearly top–dressing of decayed
leaf–soil or light rich vegetable heap compost, is equally beneficial
for the shrubs and their carpet.
[Illustration: The American White Wood–Lily (Trillium grandiflorum) in
Wild Garden, in wood bottom in leaf–mould.]
“One day last spring, when strolling through the Medford wood, I came
upon an open meadow with a high bank—cleared timber land—on one side.
Adown this bank in a rough and rocky course, came a little stream of
water, bordered on both sides with streaks and patches of Blood–root in
its gayest state. The large and showy blossoms, clasped erect in their
own leaf–vases and sparkling in the sun, while the sward and other
vegetation around were yet dormant, had a cheerful influence indeed.
True, near by in the hollow, the malodorous Skunk Cabbage was rank
in leaf and flower, and the Indian Poke was rushing out its plaited,
broadly oval leaves, and away in the streamlet a few Marsh Marigolds
glittered on the water. But the Blood–root is neither an aquatic nor a
bog plant, but most at home in the leaf–mould beds and linings of rich
woodlands.”
“Hereabout, a little wild flower (Erythronium americanum) more commonly
known as Dog’s–tooth Violet, is a charming plant, with variegated
handsome leaves, and comely flowers in earliest spring. In low copses
in rich deposits of vegetable mould it grows around here in the utmost
profusion. In one place by the side of a wood is a sort of ditch,
which is filled with water in winter but dry in summer, and wherein
is collected a mass of leaf–soil. Here the Erythronium runs riot,
and forms the densest kind of matted sod, all bespeckled with yellow
blossoms before a bush or tree has spread a leaf. Then blackberry
bushes get a growing and sprawling everywhere, the trees expand their
leafy shade, and Grass and weeds grow up and cover the surface of the
earth. But all too late for evil, the Adder’s–tongue’s mission for a
year is ended; it has blossomed, matured, and retired. The next densest
mass I know of is in a low piece of cleared timber land, where, besides
the profusion in the hollow, the carpet extends, thinner as it ascends,
for many yards up the slope of the hill. As garden plants they are at
home anywhere, underneath bushes, or in any out of–the–way corner,
merely praying to be let alone. But what I desire to urge is their
naturalisation in your rich woodlands, where Anemones and Primroses,
Buttercups and Violets, grow up and flower together.”
I cannot better conclude this chapter than by showing one of the most
interesting aspects of vegetation I have ever seen.[1] It was in an
ordinary shrubbery, forming a belt round a botanic garden. In the inner
parts, hidden from the walk probably from want of labour, the digging
had not been carried out for some years. Some roots of the common Myrrh
(Myrrhis odorata), thrown out of the garden in digging, had rooted by
accident and spread into a little colony. The plant grows freely in
any soil. Among the graceful tufts of Myrrh were tall white Harebells,
and the effect of these, standing above the elegant spreading foliage
of the Myrrh in the shade of the trees, was very beautiful. Note
particularly that the front of the shrubbery in which this exquisite
scene was discovered was as stiff and hideous as usual in winter—raw
earth, full of mutilated roots, and shrubs cut in for the convenience
and according to the taste of the diggers. The beds in the botanical
arrangement near were ugly beyond description.
Longleat is one of the first places in which the idea of the wild
garden was practically carried out and ably by the forester, Mr. Berry.
With such a fine variety of surface and soil, the place naturally
offers numerous positions in which the plants of other countries
as cold or colder than our own could be naturalised, or so planted
that they would increase and take care of themselves in the woods.
A forester’s duties and opportunities are generally such as make it
extremely difficult for him to carry out such an idea. To know the
plants even that are likely to succeed is, in itself, a species of
knowledge which every planter does not possess; however, the idea
was clearly understood and carried out well, so far as possible in
the face of rabbits, which are the great destroyers of almost all
flowering ground vegetation. To get the necessary quantities of
subjects necessitated a little nursery in which a sufficient number
could be raised of the more vigorous perennials, bulbs, and climbers.
If this new idea in gardening be carried out on the old dotting
principle of the herbaceous border, its great value and its charming
effects cannot be realised. To do it rightly we must group and mass
as Nature does. Though we may enjoy a single flower or tuft here and
there, the true way is natural fringes and masses of plants, one or two
species prevailing in a given spot; in that way we may secure several
important ends—distinct effects in different places, a variety as we
walk along, and better means of meeting the wants of a plant, inasmuch
as, dealing with a group, or mass, or carpet, we can best observe the
result of our judgment in putting them in any soil or place. Therefore,
although the quantity of vigorous hardy flowers essential for making
good effects in a place of this size has not yet been planted out,
some very charming effects have been obtained. Among the features that
Mr. Berry is working to introduce are vigorous hardy exotic creepers
on old and inferior trees, Thorn, and other bushes of little value.
Many are already planted, but will be some time before they show their
full beauty—among them Japanese and other Honeysuckles, Virginian
Creepers, Clematis, Wistarias, and others. A part of the arboretum
is more particularly devoted to this kind of decoration, and will
eventually form a very wild wood and wild garden, where the Poet’s
Narcissus may be found among Sweet Briers, Lilacs, and many kinds of
fragrant–flowering shrubs and vigorous perennials. While carrying out
the scheme of wild gardening, pure and simple, that is to say, the
naturalisation of foreign hardy plants, opportunity has been taken to
establish beautiful native kinds where they do not happen to be present
in sufficient abundance. Thus the Lily of the Valley has been brought
in quantities and planted in wide–spreading colonies along the drives,
and so have the Meadow Saffron and the Snowflakes and Daffodils.
To group and scatter these in a natural and easy way has required
considerable care, the tendency of the men being invariably, and almost
in spite of themselves, to plant in stiff and set or too regular
masses.
[Illustration: The Lily of the Valley in a copse.]
Few things are more delightful to anybody who cares about hardy
plants than naturalising the Lily of the Valley in pleasant spots
about a country house. It is in every garden, of course, and very
often so crowded and so starved that it seldom flowers well. A bare
garden border is not so suitable for it as that in which it may be
found in a thin wood, or in little openings in a copse, where it
enjoys enough light, and gets shelter too. Frequently the fresh wood
soil would be more welcome to it than the worn–out soil in a garden;
also by planting it in various positions and soils, we may secure an
important difference as regards blooming. In a cool woody place it
would bloom ten days later than in an exposed warm garden border, and
this difference could be increased by carefully selecting the position.
Apart altogether from the wild garden and its charms, this difference
in the time of blooming of the Lily of the Valley would be a great
advantage to all who have to provide cut flowers, inasmuch as it would
give them late bloom in plenty without trouble. However, giving reasons
for the naturalisation of the Lily of the Valley is surely unnecessary.
The only surprising thing is that it has not been done to a large
extent already, because it is so very easy and so very delightful.
Recently a good many different varieties of Lily of the Valley—nearly
as many as twenty—have been collected, and are beginning to be
cultivated by some of our growers of herbaceous plants. The difference
in these is not owing to soil or situation. When grown in the same
place they manifest differences in length of spike and size of foliage;
and also in time of blooming. In some the spike is short, and in others
nearly one foot long. This important fact should, of course, be noted
by any who would, in places where the Lily of the Valley does not grow
wild, interest themselves in establishing it.
There are advantages in wood–culture for many hardy plants—the shelter,
shade, and soil affording for some things conditions more suitable than
our gardens. The warmth of the wood, too, is an advantage, the fallen
leaves helping to protect the plants in all ways. In a hot country
plants that love cool places could be grown in a wood where they would
perish if exposed. Mr. G. F. Wilson has made himself a remarkably
interesting and successful wild garden in a wood, from which he sent
me in the autumn of last year (1880) a flowering stem of the American
Swamp Lily (L. superbum) _eleven feet high_. No such result has ever
been seen in any garden or border of the ordinary type. These Lilies of
his grow in a woody bottom where rich dark soil has gathered, and where
there is shelter and shade.
Placing every plant in one border with the same conditions as to soil
and exposure was a great mistake. A great many beautiful plants haunt
the woods, and we cannot change their nature easily. Even if we should
grow them in open places their bloom will not be so enduring as in
the wood. A curious instance of the advantage of planting in a wood is
at Bodorgan in Anglesey, where a much later bloom was gathered off a
colony of the popular Hoteia japonica, owing to planting it in a cool
wood. A little woodland planting may indeed be worth doing for the sake
of a prolonged or later bloom, even from plants that thrive in sunny
places.
THE ORCHARD WILD GARDEN.
Although three years have elapsed since the illustrations of this book
were commenced, I regret to issue it without a satisfactory one showing
the beauty which may be obtained in the orchard from flowers in the
grass or fences around. In our orchard counties—pity it is that all our
counties are not worthy of the name within the possibilities of their
position and climate—one may now and then see a cloud of Daffodils or
a tuft of Summer Snowflake, enough to suggest what happy places they
would be for many bulbous flowers in the grass.
A WILD ORCHARD.
A correspondent of the “Garden” writes:—
After reading in the “Garden” of November 16, about the Bullace there
named, and the Cranberries, the idea struck me of adding unto our
Orchard in Sussex “a wild Orchard,” with fruit trees such as follows,
viz.—Quince, Medlar, Mulberry, Bullace, Crab, Pyrus Maulei, Barberries,
Blackberries (the large kinds for preserving), Filberts, and in a
suitable place, Cranberries. All these, besides the interest of
cultivating them, would yield fruit for preserving, etc. For instance,
we have old–fashioned receipts for making an excellent Bullace cheese,
Crab jelly, Quince jelly, etc. I venture to trouble you with a view to
asking if you can suggest any other similar fruit–bearing trees or
shrubs, as we should like to carry out our idea well. Our house is in
Sussex, between Midhurst and Haslemere.—C. S. R.
[An excellent idea! There are many fruits which could be grown this
way that people do not usually give space to, and this applies to the
varieties of cultivated fruits, as well as species that are never
cultivated. The natural order to which most of our fruit trees belong
contains many other species, not without merit as fruits, scattered
throughout the temperate regions of the northern world. These trees and
shrubs happen also to be most beautiful of flowering trees and shrubs
in spring, and are well worthy of culture on that account alone. In
Japan, North America, and even the continent of Europe, one frequently
sees fruits that are never seen in our gardens; such fruits will be
quite at home in the wild orchard. For the sake of growing one family
of fruiting bushes alone—the fruiting brambles of America and other
countries—a considerable piece of ground might be profitably devoted.
Even amongst the English wild Blackberries there is considerable
variety and a good deal of unrecognised merit. Such plants can only be
grown fairly where there is considerable space. If so much beauty and
interest, and even good fruit, may be found in one neglected family, it
suggests how interesting the subject is when considered in relation to
the great number of our hardy fruit trees and shrubs. A good feature of
such a garden would be plantations of such Apples and Pears as are most
remarkable for the beauty of their flowers and fruit, some being much
more striking in that respect than others.]
CHAPTER IX.
THE BROOK–SIDE, WATER–SIDE, AND BOG GARDENS.
[Illustration: Solomon’s Seal and Herb Paris, in copse by streamlet.]
Nearly all landscape gardeners seem to have put a higher value on the
lake or fish–pond than on the brook as an ornament to the garden; but,
while we allow that many places are enhanced in beauty and dignity,
by a broad expanse of water, many pictures might be formed by taking
advantage of a brook as it meanders through woody glade or meadow. No
such beauty is afforded by a pond or lake, which gives us water in
repose—imprisoned water, in fact; and although we obtain breadth by
confining water, still, in many cases, we prefer the brook, or water
in motion, as it ripples between mossy rocks or flower–fringed banks.
The brook–margin, too, offers opportunities to lovers of hardy flowers
which few other situations can rival. Hitherto we have only used in
and near such places aquatic or bog plants, and of these usually a
very meagre selection; but the improvement of the brook–side will be
most readily effected by planting the banks with hardy flowers, making
it a wild garden, in fact. A great number of our finest herbaceous
plants, from Irises to Globe–flowers, thrive best in the moist soil
found in such positions; numbers of hardy flowers, also, that do not
in nature prefer such soil, would exist in perfect health in it. The
wild garden illustrated by the water–side will give us some of the most
charming garden pictures. Land plants would have this advantage over
water ones, that we could fix their position, whereas water plants
are apt to spread everywhere, and sometimes one kind exterminates the
rest; therefore it might, in many cases, be better not to encourage
the water or water–side vegetation, but to form little colonies of
hardy flowers along the banks. The plants, of course, should be such
as would grow freely among Grass and take care of themselves. If
different types of vegetation were encouraged on each side of the
water, the effect would be all the better. The common way of repeating
a favourite plant at intervals would spoil all: groups of free hardy
things, different in each place as one passed, would be best; Day
Lilies; Phloxes, which love moisture; Irises, mainly the beardless
kinds, which love wet places, but all the fine Germanica forms will
do; Gunnera; Aster; American swamp Lilies in peaty or boggy soil; the
deep rose–coloured variety of the Loosestrife; Golden Rods; the taller
and stouter Bell–flowers (Campanula); the Spider Wort (Tradescantia
virginica), of which there are a good many forms, differing in colour;
the Broad–leaved Saxifrages; the Compass plants (Silphium); Everlasting
Peas; Monkshood; the Goats Rues (Galega); Baptisia; the free–flowering
Yuccas; the hardiest flame–flowers (Tritoma); the stouter kinds of
Yarrow (Achillea); the common perennial Lupin—these are some of many
types of hardy flowers which would grow freely near the water–side
apart wholly from the plants that naturally frequent such places or
which are usually placed there. With these hardy plants too, a variety
of the nobler hardy ferns would thrive, as the Struthiopteris; the
finer types of the Umbellate order (Ferula and others) would also come
in well here. We will now consider the plants that naturally belong to
such situations so to say.
[Illustration: Colony of hardy exotic Flowers, naturalised by
brook–side.]
Water–plants of northern and temperate regions, associated with those
of our own country, add much beauty to a garden if well selected and
well grown. A great deal of variety may be added to the margins, and
here and there to the surface, of ornamental water, by the use of a
good collection of hardy aquatics arranged with taste; but this has
not yet been fairly attempted. Usually we see the same monotonous
vegetation all round the margin if the soil be rich; in some cases,
where the bottom is of gravel, there is little or no vegetation, but an
unbroken ugly line of washed earth between wind and water. In others,
water–plants accumulate till they are only an eyesore—not submerged
plants like Anacharis, but such as the Water Lilies when matted
together. A well–developed plant or group of plants of the queenly
Water Lily, with its large leaves and noble flowers, is an object not
surpassed by any other in our gardens; but when it increases and runs
over the whole of a piece of water—thickening together and being in
consequence weakened—and water–fowl cannot make their way through it,
then even this plant loses its charms. No garden water, however, should
be without a few fine plants or groups of the Water Lily. Where the
bottom does not allow of the free development of the plant, earth might
be accumulated in the spot where it was desired to encourage the growth
of the Nymphæa. Thus arranged it would not spread too much. But it is
not difficult to prevent the plant from spreading; indeed I have known
isolated plants, and groups of it, remain of almost the same size for
years. The Yellow Water Lily, Nuphar lutea, though not so beautiful
as the preceding, is well worthy of a place; and also the little N.
pumila, a variety or sub–species found in the lakes of the north of
Scotland.
[Illustration: Valley in Somersetshire, with Narcissi, Marsh Marigolds,
and Primroses.]
Then there is the fine and large N. advena, a native of America, which
pushes its leaves boldly above the water, and is very vigorous in
habit. It is very plentiful in the Manchester Botanic Garden, and will
be found to some extent in most gardens of the same kind. The American
White Water Lily (Nymphæa odorata) is a noble species, which would
prove quite hardy in Britain. It is a pity this noble aquatic plant is
not more frequently seen, as it is quite as fine as our own Water Lily.
Rose–coloured varieties are spoken of, but are not yet in cultivation
here.
One of the prettiest effects I have ever observed was afforded by a
sheet of Villarsia nymphæoides belting round the margin of a lake near
a woody recess, and before it, more towards the deep water, a group of
Water Lilies. The Villarsia is a charming little water–plant, with its
Nymphæa–like leaves and numerous golden–yellow flowers, which furnish
a beautiful effect on fine days, under a bright sun. It is not very
commonly distributed as a native plant, though, where found, generally
very plentiful.
Not rare—growing, in fact, in nearly all districts of Britain—but
beautiful and singular, is the Buckbean or Marsh Trefoil (Menyanthes
trifoliata), with its flowers deeply fringed on the inside with white
filaments, and the round unopened buds blushing on the top with a rosy
red like that of an Apple–blossom. It will grow in a bog or any moist
place, or by the margin of any water. For grace, no water–plant can
well surpass Equisetum Telmateia, which, in deep soil, in shady and
sheltered places near water, often grows several feet high, the long,
close–set, slender branches depending from each whorl in a singularly
graceful manner. It will grow on the margins of lakes and streams,
especially among water–side bushes, or in boggy spots in the shade.
For a bold and picturesque plant on the margin of water, nothing
equals the great Water Dock (Rumex Hydrolapathum), which is rather
generally dispersed over the British Isles; it has leaves quite
sub–tropical in aspect and size, becoming of a lurid red in the
autumn. It forms a grand mass of foliage on rich muddy banks, and,
unlike many water–plants, has the good quality of not spreading too
much. The Cat’s–tail (Typha) must not be omitted, but it should not
be allowed too much liberty. The narrow–leaved one (T. angustifolia)
is more graceful than the common one (T. latifolia). Carex pendula is
excellent for the margins of water, its elegant drooping spikes being
quite distinct in their way. It is rather common in England, more so
than Carex pseudocyperus, which grows well in a foot or two of water
or on the margin of a muddy pond. Carex paniculata forms a strong and
thick stem, sometimes 3 ft. or 4 ft. high, somewhat like a tree Fern,
and with luxuriant masses of drooping leaves, and on that account is
transferred to moist places in gardens, and cultivated by some, though
generally these large specimens are difficult to remove and soon
perish. Scirpus lacustris (the Bulrush) is too distinct a plant to be
omitted, as its stems, sometimes attaining a height of more than 7
ft. and even 8 ft., look very imposing; and Cyperus longus is also a
desirable plant, reminding one of the aspect of the Papyrus when in
flower. It is found in some of the southern counties of England. Poa
aquatica might also be used. Cladium Mariscus is another distinct and
rather scarce British aquatic which is worth a place.
[Illustration: Cyperus Longus.]
If one chose to enumerate the plants that grow in British and European
waters, a very long list might be made, but those which possess no
distinct character or no beauty of flower would be useless, for it is
only by a judicious selection of the very best kinds that gardening of
this description can give satisfaction; therefore, omitting a host of
inconspicuous water–weeds, we will endeavour to indicate others of real
worth for our present purpose.
Those who have seen the flowering Rush (Butomus umbellatus) in blossom,
are not likely to omit it from a collection of water–plants, as it is
conspicuous and distinct. It is a native of the greater part of Europe
and Russian Asia, and is dispersed over the central and southern parts
of England and Ireland. Plant it not far from the margin, and it likes
rich muddy soil. The common Arrow Head (Sagittaria), very frequent
in England and Ireland, but not in Scotland, might be associated
with this; but there is a very much finer double exotic kind, which
is really a handsome plant, its flowers white, and resembling, but
larger than, those of the old white Double Rocket. This used to be
grown in abundance in the pleasure gardens at Rye House, Broxbourne,
where it filled a sort of oblong basin, or wide ditch, and was very
handsome in flower. It forms large egg–shaped tubers, or rather
receptacles of farina, and in searching for these, ducks destroyed
the plants occasionally. Calla palustris is a beautiful bog–plant,
and I know nothing that produces a more pleasing effect over rich,
soft, boggy ground. It will also grow by the side of water. Calla
æthiopica, the well–known and beautiful Lily of the Nile, is hardy
enough in some places if planted rather deep, and in nearly all it
may be placed out for the summer; but, except in quiet waters, in
the south of England and Ireland, it will not thrive. However, as it
is a plant so generally cultivated, it may be tried without loss in
favourable positions. Pontederia cordata is a stout, firm–rooting, and
perfectly hardy water–herb, with erect and distinct habit, and blue
flowers, not difficult to obtain from botanic garden or nursery. The
Sweet–flag will be associated with the Water Iris (I. Pseudacorus),
and a number of exotic Irises will thrive in wet ground, _i.e._ I.
sibirica, ochreleuca, graminea, and many others. Aponogeton distachyon
is a native of the Cape of Good Hope, a singularly pretty plant, which
is hardy enough for our climate, and, from its sweetness and curious
beauty, a most desirable plant to cultivate. It frequently succeeds in
water not choked by weeds or foulness, and wherever there are springs
that tend to keep the water a little warmer than usual it seems to
thrive in any part of the country. The Water Ranunculuses, which sheet
over our pools in spring and early summer with such silvery beauty, are
not worth an attempt at cultivation, so rambling are they; and the same
applies to not a few other things of interest. Orontium aquaticum is a
scarce and handsome aquatic for a choice collection, and as beautiful
as any is the Water Violet (Hottonia palustris). It occurs most
frequently in the eastern and central districts of England and Ireland.
The best example of it that I have seen was on an expanse of soft mud
near Lea Bridge, in Essex, where it covered the surface with a sheet
of dark fresh green, and must have looked better in that position than
when in water, though doubtless the place was occasionally flooded. A
suitable companion for the Marsh Marigold (Caltha) and its varieties is
the very large and showy Ranunculus Lingua, which grows in rich ground
to a height of three feet or more.
[Illustration: The Cape Pond Weed in an English ditch in winter.]
[Illustration: Day Lily by margin of water.]
If with this water–garden we combine the wild garden of land
plants—herbaceous, trailers, etc.—some of the loveliest effects
possible in gardens will be produced. The margins of lakes and streams
are happily not upturned by the spade in winter; and hereabouts, just
away from the water–line, almost any vigorous and really hardy flower
of the thousands now in our gardens may be grown and will afterwards
take care of itself. The Globe–flowers alone would form beautiful
effects in such positions, and would endure as long as the Grass. Near
the various Irises that love the water–side might be planted those that
thrive in moist ground, and they are many, including the most beautiful
kinds. Among recently introduced plants the singular Californian
Saxifraga peltata is likely to prove a noble one for the water–side,
its natural habitat being beside mountain watercourses, dry in the
autumn when it is at rest; both flowers and foliage are effective, and
the growth very vigorous when in moist ground. It would require a very
long list to enumerate all the plants that would grow near the margins
of water, and apart from the aquatics proper; but enough has been said
to prove that, given a strip of ground beside a stream or lake, a
garden of the most delightful kind could be formed. The juxtaposition
of plants inhabiting different situations—water–plants, water–side
plants, and land–plants thriving in moist ground—would prevent what
would, in many cases, be so undesirable—a general admixture of the
whole. Two distinct classes of effects could be obtained, the beauty of
the flowers seen close at hand, and that of the more conspicuous kinds
in the distance, or from the other side of the water of a stream or
lakelet.
An interesting point in favour of the wild garden is the succession
of effects which it may afford, and which are suggested by the
illustrations on the next pages, both showing a succession of life on
the same spot of ground. In gardens in early summer at present the
whole of the portion devoted to flower–gardening is dug up raw as a
ploughed field, just when the earth is naturally most thickly strewn
with flowers. A very little consideration and observation will suffice
to make it clear that a succession of effects may be secured without
this violent disfigurement of our gardens in the fairest days of early
summer. These are not the days for digging or planting either, and
the system that necessitates them is pernicious in its effects on our
gardens.
It is equally an enemy of all peace or rest for the gardener, who,
having trenched, dug, enriched, planted, and sown, through the autumn,
winter, and spring, might certainly begin to look for the fruits and
flowers of his labour, when he has to face the most trying effort of
all—the planting of the flower–garden in May and June with a host of
flowers too tender to be committed to the earth at an earlier season.
[Illustration: Marsh Marigold and Iris in early spring. (See p. 77.)]
The bog–garden is a home for the numerous children of the wild that
will not thrive on our harsh, bare, and dry garden borders, but must
be cushioned on moss, and associated with their own relatives in
moist peat soil. Many beautiful plants, like the Wind Gentian and
Creeping Harebell, grow on our own bogs and marshes, much as these
are now encroached upon. But even those acquainted with the beauty of
the plants of our own bogs have, as a rule, but a feeble notion of
the multitude of charming plants, natives of northern and temperate
countries, whose home is the open marsh or boggy wood. In our own
country, we have been so long encroaching upon the bogs and wastes
that some of us come to regard them as exceptional tracts all over the
world. But when one travels in new countries in northern climes, one
soon learns what a vast extent of the world’s surface was at one time
covered with bogs. In North America day after day, even by the margins
of the railroads, one sees the vivid blooms of the Cardinal–flower
springing erect from the wet peaty hollows. Far under the shady woods
stretch the black bog–pools, the ground between being so shaky that you
move a few steps with difficulty. One wonders how the trees exist with
their roots in such a bath. And where the forest vegetation disappears
the American Pitcher–plant (Sarracenia), Golden Club (Orontium), Water
Arum (Calla palustris), and a host of other handsome and interesting
bog–plants cover the ground for hundreds of acres, with perhaps an
occasional slender bush of Laurel Magnolia (Magnolia glauca) among
them. In some parts of Canada, where the painfully long and straight
roads are often made through woody swamps, and where the few scattered
and poor habitations offer little to cheer the traveller, he will, if
a lover of plants, find conservatories of beauty in the ditches and
pools of black water beside the road, fringed with the sweet–scented
Buttonbush, with a profusion of stately ferns, and often filled with
masses of the pretty Sagittarias.
[Illustration: The same spot as in opposite sketch, with aftergrowth of
Iris, Meadow Sweet, and Bindweed. (See p. 77.)]
Southwards and seawards, the bog–flowers become tropical in size and
brilliancy, as in the splendid kinds of herbaceous Hibiscus, while far
north, and west and south along the mountains, the beautiful and showy
Mocassin–flower (Cypripedium spectabile) grows the queen of the peat
bog. Then in California, all along the Sierras, there are a number of
delicate little annual plants growing in small mountain bogs long
after the plains have become quite parched, and annual vegetation
has quite disappeared from them. But who shall record the beauty and
interest of the flowers of the wide–spreading marsh–lands of this
globe of ours, from those of the vast wet woods of America, dark and
brown, and hidden from the sunbeams, to those of the breezy uplands of
the high Alps, far above the woods, where the little bogs teem with
Nature’s most brilliant flowers, joyous in the sun? No one worthily;
for many mountain–swamp regions are as yet as little known to us as
those of the Himalaya, with their giant Primroses and many strange
and lovely flowers. One thing, however, we may gather from our small
experiences—that many plants commonly termed “alpine,” and found on
high mountains, are true bog–plants. This must be clear to anyone who
has seen our pretty Bird’s–eye Primrose in the wet mountain–side bogs
of Westmoreland, or the Bavarian Gentian in the spongy soil by alpine
rivulets, or the Gentianella (Gentiana acaulis) in the snow ooze.
Bogs are neither found or desired in or near our gardens now–a–days,
but, wherever they are, there are many handsome flowers from other
countries that will thrive in them as freely as in their native wastes.
[Illustration: Partridge Berry (Gualtheria).]
CHAPTER X.
ROSES FOR THE WILD GARDEN, AND FOR HEDGEROWS, FENCES, AND GROUPS.
The wild Roses of the world, had we no other plants, would alone make
beautiful wild gardens. The unequalled grace of the Wild Rose is as
remarkable as the beauty of bloom for which the Rose is grown in
gardens. The culture is mostly of a kind which tends to conceal or
suppress the grace of shoot and foliage of the Rose. Therefore the wild
garden may do good work in bringing before the many who love gardens,
but have fewer chances of seeing the Roses in their native haunts,
the native grace of the well–loved Rose, which even in its obesity,
and trained into the form of a mop, still charms us. The Rev. H. N.
Ellacombe writes:—
I have here a very large and thick Box bush, in the centre of which
there has been for many years an Ayrshire Rose. The long branches
covered with flowers, and resting on the deep green cushion, have a very
beautiful effect. Other Roses may be used in the same way. The Musk Rose
of Shakespeare and Bacon would be particularly well suited for this, and
would climb up to a great height. Rosa scandens or sempervirens, Rosa
multiflora, and perhaps some others, might be grown in the same way;
and it would be worth while to experiment with other garden forms, such
as Aimée Vibert, purple Boursault, etc. If grown against a tree of thin
foliage, such as a Robinia, they would grow quicker and flower sooner;
but this is not necessary, for even if grown near a thick–foliaged
tree they will soon bring their branches to the outside for the light.
But besides climbing Roses, there is another way in which Roses may be
combined with trees to great advantage, viz. by planting some of the
taller–growing bushes in rough grassy places. These would grow from 6
feet to 10 feet high, and would flower well in such a position. For
such a purpose the old Dutch Apple Rose (Rosa villosa var. pomifera)
would be very suitable, and so would R. cinnamomea, R. fraxinifolia,
R. gallica, R. rubifolia, and the common monthly China. And if growers
would rear the perpetual and other Roses by autumnal cuttings instead of
by budding, they might have hundreds and thousands of fine Roses which
would do well planted in the woods and plantations.
Another correspondent, Mr. Greenwood Pim, writes referring to the
preceding note:—
I have two large exotic Hawthorns—round–headed standards, growing
close together, so that their edges touch, forming, as it were, two
gentle hills with a valley between, and sloping down to within about
6 ft. of the lawn. Of these one is Cratægus Crus–galli; the other C.
tanacetifolia. Behind, and partly through these, climbs a very old
Noisette Rose—all that now remains of an arched trellis—producing a vast
number of bunches of white flowers, six or eight together, and about
1½ in. or 2 in. across. The old gnarled stem of the Rose is scarcely
noticeable amongst those of the Thorns till it reaches the top of them,
whence it descends between the trees in a regular torrent of blossom,
in addition to occupying the topmost boughs of the Cockspur Thorn. The
general effect is almost that of a large patch of snow between two
bright green hills—a combination very common in the higher districts of
Switzerland. A smaller plant of the same Rose has recently been trained
up a large Arbor–vitæ which, from moving, has lost its lower branches
for some 4 ft. or 5 ft., and has its stem clothed with Ivy. It is now
festooned with snowy flowers hanging down from and against the dark
green of the Arbor–vitæ and Ivy, forming a charming contrast. It seems a
great pity that we do not oftener thus wed one tree to another—a stout
and strong to a slender and clinging one, as Virgil in the “Georgics”
talks of wedding the Vine to the Elm, as is, I believe, done to this day
in Italy.
[Illustration: Wild Rose growing on a Pollard Ash in Orchardleigh Park,
Somerset.]
“We have,” says a correspondent, “a pretty extensive collection of
Roses, but one of the most attractive specimens on the place is an old
double white Ayrshire Rose, growing in a group of common Laurel in
the shrubberies. We cannot tell how old the plant may be, but it has
probably been in its present situation for thirty years, struggling the
best way it could to keep its place among the tall–growing Laurels,
sometimes sending out a shoot of white flowers on this side and
sometimes on that side of the clump of bushes, and sometimes scrambling
up to the tops of the tallest limbs and draping them with its blossoms
throughout June and July. Nearly three years ago we had the Laurels
headed down to within six feet of the ground, leaving the straggling
limbs of the Rose which were found amongst them, and since then it
has grown and thriven amazingly, and now fairly threatens to gain the
mastery. We had the curiosity to measure the plant the other day, and
found it rather over seventy feet in circumference. Within this space
the plant forms an irregular undulating mound, nearly in all parts so
densely covered with Roses that not so much as a hand’s breadth is left
vacant anywhere, and the Laurel branches are quite hidden, and in fact
are now dying, smothered by the Rose. A finer example of luxuriant
development we never saw. The plant has been a perfect sheet of bloom
for a month or more, and there are thousands of buds yet to expand,
and hundreds of bunches of buds have been cut just at the opening
stage—when they are neater and whiter than a Gardenia—to send away.
The tree has never received the least attention or assistance with the
exception of the removal of the Laurel tops before mentioned, to let
the light into it. It is growing in a tolerably deep and strong dry
loam, and this, together with head room, seems to be all it requires.
We record this example simply to show of what the Rose is capable
without much cultural assistance. No doubt, in order to produce fine
individual blooms certain restricted culture is necessary; but almost
any variety of Rose will make a good–sized natural bush of itself, and
as for the climbing or pillar Roses, the less they are touched the
better. Of course we are not alluding to the Rosery proper, but of
Roses in their more natural aspect, as when planted to hide fences,
cover rockeries, or as striking objects on lawns. Except against walls,
and in similar situations, there is no occasion to prune climbing
Roses. Left to themselves, they make by far the grandest display, and
to insure this it is only necessary to provide them with a good, deep,
strong soil at the beginning, and to let them have a fair amount of
light on all sides. Whether planting be carried out with the object
above described, or for the purpose of covering naked tree stumps or
limbs, or for draping any unsightly object whatever, liberal treatment
in the first instance is the main thing. A good soil makes all the
difference in time and in the permanent vigour of the tree, and were we
desirous of having a great Rose tree (whether it be a common Ayrshire
or a Gloire de Dijon, that we expected to produce thousands of blooms
in a few years), we should, if the soil were not naturally strong
and deep, provide a well–drained pit and fill it with two or three
good cartloads of sound loam and manure; thus treated, the result is
certain, provided an unrestricted growth be permitted.”
[Illustration: White Climbing Rose scrambling over old Catalpa Tree.]
Roses on grass are a pleasant feature of the wild garden. No matter
what the habit of the rose, provided it be free and hardy, and growing
on its own roots, planting on the grass will suit it well. So treated,
the more vigorous climbers would form thickets of flowers, and graceful
vigorous shoots. They will do on level grass, and be still more
picturesque on banks or slopes.
The following description, by Mr. E. Andre, of Roses in the Riviera is
suggestive of what we may obtain in our own climate later, by using the
free kinds on their own roots, or on stocks equally hardy and not less
vigorous, as in the case of the Banksian Roses mentioned below:—
On my last excursion from Marseilles to Genoa, I was greatly struck, as
any one seeing them for the first time would be, with the magnificence
of the Roses all along the Mediterranean shores. The Rose hedges,
and the espalier Roses, especially, offer an indescribably gorgeous
sight. Under the genial influence of the warm sun of Provence, from
the Corniche to the extremity of the Riviera di Ponente, that is as
far as the Gulf of Genoa, and protected to the north by the mountains,
which gradually slope down to the sea–coast, Roses attain the size of
Pæonies, and develop a depth and brilliancy of colour and fragrance of
unusual intensity. But this is in part due to another cause, or rather
two other causes, which lead to the same result, the main point being
the choice of suitable subjects for stocks to graft upon. These stocks
are, Rosa Banksiæ and Rosa indica major. The Banksian Rose presents
three varieties, namely, White Banksian, producing a profusion of small
white flowers, scarcely so large as those of the double–flowered Cherry,
and of a most delicious fragrance; Yellow Banksian, with still larger
clusters of small nankeen–yellow scentless flowers; Chinese Thorny
Banksian, flowers less numerous and about three times as large as in
the two preceding, and of the most grateful odour. These three forms
attain an unsurpassable vigour in this region. In two years one plant
will cover an immense wall, the gable of a house, or climb to the top
of a tall tree, from which its branches hang like flowery cascades,
embalming the air around with a rich perfume during the months of April
and May. Now, if these be taken for stocks upon which to bud some of the
choicer Teas, Noisettes, and Bourbons, the growth of the latter will
be prodigious. The stock should be two years old, having well ripened,
though still smooth, wood. In this way such varieties as Gloire de
Dijon, Maréchal Niel, Lamarque, Safrano, Chromatella, Aimée Vibert, le
Pactole, and all the Teas, attain such dimensions as to be no longer
recognisable.
Rosa indica major is almost naturalised throughout the whole of this
region. It possesses the additional claim to favour of flowering nearly
all the winter, forming beautiful hedges of dark green shining foliage,
from which thousands of clusters of lovely flowers rise, of a tender
delicate transparent pink, or almost pure white, with a brighter tinge
in the centre and at the tips of the petals. This Rose is an evergreen,
and makes an excellent stock for grafting or budding. It is either
planted in nursery beds, where it quickly throws up a stem suitable
for standards in the same way as we employ the Dog Rose, or in hedges,
and left to its naturally luxuriant growth to produce its own charming
flowers in rich profusion, or rows of cuttings are put in where it
is intended to leave them, and subsequently budded with some of the
varieties of the diverse tribes we have named.
[Illustration: Climbing Rose isolated on grass.]
CHAPTER XI.
WILD GARDENING ON WALLS OR RUINS.
[Illustration: Arenaria balearica, in a hole in wall at Great Tew.]
There are many hundred species of mountain and rock plants which will
thrive much better on an old wall, a ruin, a sunk fence, a sloping
bank of stone, with earth behind, than they do in the most carefully
prepared border, and therefore their culture may be fittingly
considered here, particularly, as once established in such positions
they increase and take care of themselves unaided. Indeed, many an
alpine plant which may have perished in its place in the garden, would
thrive on any old wall near at hand, as, for example, the pretty
Pyrenean Erinus, the silvery Saxifrages of the Alps, pinks like the
Cheddar Pink, established on the walls at Oxford, many Stonecrops and
allied plants, the Aubrietia and Arabis.
A most interesting example of wall gardening is shown on the opposite
page. In the gardens at Great Tew, in Oxfordshire, this exquisite
little alpine plant, which usually roots over the moist surface of
stones, established itself high up on a wall in a small recess, where
half a brick had been displaced. The illustration tells the rest. It is
suggestive, as so many things are, of the numerous plants that may be
grown on walls and such unpromising surfaces.
[Illustration: Cheddar Pink, Saxifrage, and Ferns, on cottage wall at
Mells.]
A mossy old wall, or an old ruin, would afford a position for many
rock–plants which no specially prepared situation could rival; but
even on well–preserved walls we can establish some little beauties,
which year after year will abundantly repay for the slight trouble of
planting or sowing them. Those who have observed how dwarf plants grow
on the tops of mountains, or on elevated stony ground, must have seen
in what unpromising positions many flourish in perfect health—fine
tufts sometimes springing from an almost imperceptible chink in an
arid rock or boulder. They are often stunted and diminutive in such
places, but always more long–lived than when grown vigorously upon
the ground. Now, numbers of alpine plants perish if planted in the
ordinary soil of our gardens, and many do so where much pains is taken
to attend to their wants. This results from over–moisture at the root
in winter, the plant being rendered more susceptible of injury by
our moist green winters inducing it to make a lingering growth. But
it is interesting and useful to know that, by placing many of these
delicate plants where their roots can secure a comparatively dry and
well–drained medium, they remain in perfect health. Many plants from
latitudes a little farther south than our own, and from alpine regions,
may find on walls, rocks, and ruins, that dwarf, ripe, sturdy growth,
stony firmness of root medium, and dryness in winter, which go to form
the very conditions that will grow them in a climate entirely different
from their own.
In many parts of the country it may be said with truth that
opportunities for this phase of gardening do not exist; but in various
districts, such as the Wye and other valleys, there are miles of rock
and rough wall–surface, where the scattering of a few pinches of
Arabis, Aubrietia, Erinus, Acanthus, Saxifrage, Violas, Stonecrops, and
Houseleeks, would give rise to a garden of rock blossoms that would
need no care from the gardener. Growing such splendid alpine plants as
the true Saxifraga longifolia of the Pyrenees on the straight surface
of a wall is quite practicable. I have seen the rarest and largest of
the silvery section grown well on the face of a dry wall: therefore
there need be no doubt as to growing the more common and hardy kinds.
A few seeds of the Cheddar Pink, for example, sown in a mossy or earthy
chink, or even covered with a dust of fine soil, would soon take root,
living for years in a dwarf and perfectly healthful state. The seedling
roots vigorously into the chinks, and gets a hold which it rarely
relaxes. A list of many of the plants which will grow on walls will be
found among the selections near the end of the book.
[Illustration: The Yellow Fumitory on wall (Corydalis lutea).]
[Illustration: Large Japan Sedum (S. spectabile) and Autumn Crocuses in
the Wild Garden.]
CHAPTER XII.
SOME RESULTS.
In addition to Longleat, and other cases previously mentioned, a
few of the results obtained, where the system was tried, and so far
as known to me, may not be without interest. How much a wild garden
intelligently and tastefully carried out may effect for a country seat
is fairly well shown in a garden in Oxfordshire. Here is one of the
earliest, and probably one of the largest wild gardens existing, and
which, visiting it on the 27th May, I found full of novel charms. No
old–fashioned garden yields its beauty so early in the year, or over
a more prolonged season, than the wild garden, as there is abundant
evidence here; but our impressions shall be those of the day only. It
may serve to throw light on the possibilities of garden embellishment
in one way at a season when there is a great blank in many gardens—the
time of “bedding out.” The maker of this had no favourable or inviting
site with which to deal; no great variety of surface, which makes
attempts in this direction so much easier and happier; no variety of
soil, which might enable plants of widely different natural habitats
to be grown; only a neglected plantation, with rather a poor gravelly
soil and a gentle slope in one part, and little variety of surface
beyond a few gravel banks thrown up long before. The garden is, for the
most part, arranged on each side of a Grass drive among rather open
ground, few trees on the one hand and rather shady ground on the other.
The most beautiful aspect at the end of May of a singularly ungenial
spring, which had not allowed the Pæonies to unfold, was that of the
German Irises, with their great Orchid–like blossoms seen everywhere
through the wood, clear above the Grass and other herbage, stately and
noble flowers that, like the Daffodils, fear no weather, yet with rich
and delicate hues that could not be surpassed by tropical flowers. If
this wild garden only should teach this effective way of using the
various beautiful and vigorous kinds of Iris now included in our garden
flora, it would do good service. The Irises are perfectly at home in
the wood and among the Grass and wild flowers. By–and–by, when they
go out of flower, they will not be in the way as in a “mixed border,”
tempting one to remove them, but grow and rest quietly among the grass
until the varied blossoms of another year again repay the trouble of
substituting these noble hardy flowers for some of the familiar weeds
and wild plants that inhabit our plantations.
[Illustration: Crane’s Bill wild, in grass.]
In the wild garden the fairest of our own wild flowers may be happily
associated with their relatives from other countries. Here the sturdy
Bell–flowered Scilla (S. campanulata) grows wild with our own Bluebell
(S. nutans); the white and pink forms also of the last–named look
beautiful here associated with the common well–known form. The earlier
Scillas are of course past; they are admirably suited for the wild
garden, especially S. bifolia, which thrives freely in woods. The
Lily of the Valley did not inhabit the wood before; therefore it was
pleasant to thin out some of its over–matted tufts and carry them to
the wild garden, where they are now in fullest beauty. It is associated
with its tall and stately relation the Solomon’s Seal. The Solomon’s
Seal, which is usually effective when issuing forth from fringes of
shrubberies, is here best arching high over the Woodruff and other
sweet woodland flowers, among which it seems a giant, with every leaf,
and stem, and blossom lines of beauty. The additional vigour and beauty
shown by this plant when in rich soil well repays one for selecting
suitable spots for it. The greater Celandine (Chelidonium majus)
and its double form are very pretty here with their tufts of golden
flowers; they grow freely and take all needful care of themselves. The
same may be said of the Honesty, the common forms of Columbine, and
Allium Moly, an old–fashioned plant, and one of the many subjects at
home in the wild garden, and which are better left out of the garden
proper. The myriads of Crocus leaves dying off without the indignity
of being tied into bundles as is common in gardens, the dense growth
of Aconite and Snowdrop leaves, of coloured and common Primroses and
Cowslips, suggest the beauty of this wild garden in spring. The yet
unfolded buds on the many tufts and groups of the numerous herbaceous
Pæonies, promise noble effects early in June; so do the tufts of
the splendid Eastern Poppy (Papaver orientale) and the Lilies, and
Sweet Williams, and Adam’s Needles, and many other subjects, that
will show their blossoms above or among the summer Grass in due time.
Among the best of the Borageworts here at present, are the Caucasian
Comfrey (Symphytum caucasicum), an admirable wood or copse plant,
and red–purple or Bohemian Comfrey (S. bohemicum), which is very
handsome here. And what lovely effects from the Forget–me–nots—the wood
Forget–me–not, and the Early Forget–me–not (M. dissitiflora) are here!
where their soft little clouds of blue in the Grass are much prettier
than tufts of the same kind surrounded by the brown earth in a prim
border. Here the pushing of the delicate Grass blades through the blue
mass and the indefinite way in which the fringes of the tufts mingle
with the surrounding vegetation are very beautiful.
[Illustration: Large–leafed Saxifrage in the Wild Garden.]
The only noticeable variation of surface is that of some gravel banks,
which are properly covered with Stonecrops, Saxifrages, and the like,
which would, as a rule, have a poor chance in the Grass. Surfaces that
naturally support a very sparse and dwarf vegetation are valuable in
a garden, as they permit of the culture of a series of free–growing
alpine and rock plants that would not be able to hold their own
among Grass and ordinary weeds and wild flowers. One of the happiest
features of this wild garden results from the way in which dead trees
have been adorned. Once dead, some of the smaller branches are lopped
off, and one or more climbers planted at the base of the tree. Here
a Clematis, a climbing Rose, a new kind of Ivy, a wild Vine, or a
Virginian Creeper, have all they require, a firm support on which they
may arrange themselves after their own natural habit, without being
mutilated, or without trouble to the planter, and fresh ground free to
themselves. What an admirable way, too, of growing the many and varied
species of Clematis! as beautiful as varieties with flowers as large
as saucers. Even when an old tree falls and tosses up a mass of soil
and roots the wild gardener is ready with some subject from his mixed
border to adorn the projection, and he may allow some choice Bramble
or wild Vine to scramble over the prostrate stem. A collection of
Ivies grown on old tree–stems would be much more satisfactory than on
a wall, and not liable to robe each other at the roots, and interfere
with each other in the air. Ferns are at home in the wild garden; all
the strong hardy kinds may be grown in it, and look better in it among
the flowers than in the “hardy Fernery” properly so called. Even more
graceful than the Ferns, and in some cases more useful, because they
send up their plume–like leaves very early in the year, are the giant
Fennels (Ferula), which grow well here, and hold their own easily among
the strongest plants. The common Fennel is also here, but it seeds so
freely that it becomes a troublesome weed, and shows a tendency to
overrun plants of greater value. This reminds us of certain subjects
that should be introduced with caution into all but the remotest parts
of the wild garden. Such plants as Heracleum, Willow Herb, and many
others, that overcome all obstacles, and not only win but destroy all
their fellows in the struggle for life, should only be planted in
outlying positions, islands, hedges, small bits of isolated wood or
copse, where their effects might be visible for a season, and where
they might ramble without destroying. In short, they never should
be planted where it is desired to encourage a variety of beautiful
subjects. Rabbits—dreaded vermin to the wild gardener—are kept out
here effectually by means of wire fencing. The presence of these pests
prevents all success in the wild garden. The encouragement of creatures
that feed on slugs is desirable, as these are the most potent cause of
mischief to hardy flowers. To succeed with the wild garden, one should
have a good collection of hardy flowers from which it can be supplied.
Here one has been formed, consisting of about 1100 species, mostly
arranged in borders. From these, from time to time, over–vigorous
and over–abundant kinds may be taken to the wilderness. In a large
collection one frequently finds species most suited for full liberty in
woods. The many subjects good in all positions, may increase in these
borders till plentiful enough for planting out in some quantity in the
wild garden. The wild garden here has been wholly formed by the owner,
who planted with his own hands the various subjects that now adorn it
throughout the year. It has been done within four or five years, and
therefore many of the climbers have not as yet attained full growth.
Tew Park will long be interesting, from the fact that it was there J.
C. Loudon practised agriculture before he began writing the works which
were such a marked addition to the horticultural literature of England.
The Grove there is a plantation of fine trees, bordering a wide sweep
of grass, which varies in width. This grove, unlike much of the rest
of the ground, does not vary in surface, or but very little, so that
one of the greatest aids is absent. Originally this now pleasant grove
was a dense wood, with Gout–weed mainly on the ground, and troublesome
flies in the air. A few years ago the formation of a wild garden was
determined upon, and the first operation was the thinning of the wood;
light and moving air were let into it, and weak or overcrowded trees
removed. This, so far, was a gain, quite apart from the flowers that
were in good time to replace the few common weeds that occupied the
ground. Of these the unattractive Gout–weed was the most abundant, and
the first thing to do was to dig it up. It was found that by deeply
digging the ground, and sowing the wood Forget–me–not in its place,
this weed disappeared. Who would not exchange foul weeds for Lilies of
the Valley and Wood Forget–me–nots! The effect of broad sheets of this
Wood Forget–me–not (Myosotis sylvatica) beyond, and seen above the long
waving Grass gradually receding under the trees, was very beautiful;
now (June) its beauty is not so marked as earlier, when the colour was
fuller, from the plants being more compact; but one charm of the wild
garden is that the very changes of plants from what may be thought
their most perfect state, may be in itself the source of a new pleasure
instead of a warning, such as so often occurs in the garden, that we
must cut them down or replace them.
[Illustration: Tiger Lilies in Wild Garden at Great Tew.]
Not to mow is almost a necessity in the wild garden: considering that
there is frequently in large gardens much more mown surface than is
necessary, many will not regret this need. Here the Grass is designedly
left unmown in many places, and thereby much labour is saved. Of course
it may be cut when ripe, and most of the spring flowers have past and
their leaves are out of danger; even in parts where no flowers are
planted the Grass is left till long enough to cut as meadow. Except
where actually required as a carpet, Grass may often be allowed to grow
even in the pleasure ground; quite as good an effect is afforded by the
unmown as the mown Grass—indeed, better when the long Grass is full of
flowers. Three–fourths of the most lovely flowers of cold and temperate
regions are companions of the Grass—like Grasses in hardiness, like
Grasses in summer life and winter rest, like them even in stature.
Whatever plants may seem best to associate with in gardens, an immense
number—more than two thousand species of those now cultivated—would
thrive to perfection among our meadow Grasses, as they do on the
Grassy breast of the mountain in many lands. Some, like the tall
Irises or Columbines, will show their heads clear above the delicate
bloom of the Grass; others, like the Cerastiums, will open their cups
below it, in this way multiplying the variety of effects that may be
obtained. The varieties of Columbine in the Grass were perhaps the
prettiest flowers at the time of my visit. The white, purplish, and
delicately–variegated forms of this charming old plant, just seen above
the tops of the long Grass, growing singly, in little groups, or in
spreading colonies, were sufficient in themselves to form a wild garden
for June. Established among the Grass, they will henceforward, like it,
take care of themselves. The rosy, heart–shaped blooms of the Dielytra
spectabilis are recognised at some distance through the Grass, and,
so grown, furnish a bright and peculiarly pretty effect. Tree Pæonies
succeed admirably, and their great heads of flower quite light up this
charming wilderness. Plants of the Goat’s Beard Spiræa (S. Aruncus)
are very stately and graceful, even now, before their flowering, being
quite 6 ft. high. In a few weeks, when the numerous flowers are open,
they will present quite another aspect. In the wild garden, apart from
the naturalisation of free–growing exotics, the establishment of rare
British flowers is one of the most interesting occupations; and here,
under a Pine tree, the modest, trailing Linnæa borealis of the northern
Fir–woods is beginning to spread. The Foxglove was not originally found
in the neighbourhood; now the ordinary kind and the various other
forms of this fine wild flower adorn the woods. In this way also the
Lily of the Valley has been introduced and is spreading rapidly. Many
climbing Roses and various other climbers have been planted at the
bases of trees and stumps, but, though thriving, the plantation is
as yet too young to show the good effect that these will eventually
produce. There is no finer picture at present to be seen in gardens
than a free–growing flowering creeper, enjoying its own wild way over
an old tree or stump, and sending down a rain of flower–laden shoots.
A Clematis montana here, originally trained on a wall, sent up some of
its shoots through a tree close at hand, where, fortunately, they have
been allowed to remain, and now the long shoots hang from the tree full
of flowers. The large plumes of the nobler hardy Ferns are seen here
and there through the trees and Grass, and well they look—better here
among the Grass and flowers, partially shaded by trees, than in the
hardy Fernery, which is so often a failure, and when a success, often
“too much of a muchness,” so to say. The wild garden of the future
will be also the true home of all the more important hardy Ferns. The
rivals of the Ferns in beauty of foliage, the Ferulas, and various
other umbelliferous plants with beautifully cut foliage, have also
their homes in the wild garden. The Welsh Poppy thrives, as might be
expected, admirably in the grove, its rich yellow cups just showing
above the meadow.
[Illustration: Large–flowered Clematis.]
In another part of the grounds there is a raised walk quite away from
trees, open and dry, with sloping banks on each side. This may be
called a sun–walk, and here quite a different type of vegetation is
grown; Scotch Roses, Brooms, Sun Roses, Rock Roses, etc. It is quite
recently formed, and will probably soon accommodate a more numerous
and interesting flora. Such an open sunny walk, with dry banks near,
is a capital position in which to carry out various phases of the
wild garden. Peculiarly suitable, however, in such a position is a
good illustration of the vegetation of the hot, rocky, and gravelly
hill–sides of the Mediterranean region, and this is quite easily
represented, for the various leguminous plants and dwarf Pea–flowered
shrubs, such as the Spanish Broom, many of the beautiful Rock Roses
(Cistus), the Sun Roses (Helianthemum), and the Lavenders, will, with a
host of companions, for the most part thrive quite as well on a sunny
sandy bank in England as in Italy or Greece. In the wild garden it is
easy to arrange aspects of vegetation having a geographical interest,
and a portion of such a sunny bank as I allude to might be worthily
furnished with the various aromatic plants (nearly all hardy) which one
meets with on the wild hill–sides of Southern France, and which include
Thyme, Balm, Mint, Rosemary, Lavender, and various other old garden
favourites.
True taste in the garden is unhappily much rarer than many people
suppose. No amount of expense, rich collections, good cultivation,
large gardens, and plenty of glass, will suffice; all these and much
more it is not difficult to see, but a few acres of garden showing
a real love of the beautiful in Nature, as it can be illustrated in
gardens, is rare, and when it is seen it is often rather the result of
accident than design. This is partly owing to the fact that the kind
of knowledge one wants in order to form a really beautiful garden is
very uncommon. No man can do so with few materials. It is necessary
to have some knowledge of the enormous wealth of beauty which the
world contains for the adornment of gardens; and yet this knowledge
must not have a leaning, or but very partially, towards the Dryasdust
character. The disposition to “dry” and name everything, to concern
oneself entirely with nomenclature and classification, is not in
accordance with a true gardening spirit—it is the _life_ we want. The
garden of the late Mr. Hewittson, at Weybridge, contained some of
the most delightful bits of garden scenery which I have ever seen.
Below the house, on the slope over the water of Oatlands Park, and
below the usual lawn beds, trees, etc., there is a piece of heathy
ground which, when we saw it, was charming beyond any power of the
pencil to show. The ground was partially clad with common Heaths with
little irregular green paths through them, and abundantly naturalised
in the warm sandy soil were the Sun Roses, which are shown in the
foreground of the plate. Here and there among the Heaths, creeping
about in a perfectly natural–looking fashion, too, was the Gentian
blue Gromwell (Lithospermum prostratum), with other hardy plants
suited to the situation. Among these naturalised groups were the
large Evening Primroses and Alstrœmeria aurea, the whole being well
relieved by bold bushes of flowering shrubs, so tastefully grouped
and arranged as not to show a trace of formality. Such plants as
these are not set out singly and without preparation, but carefully
planted in beds of such naturally irregular outline, that when the
plants become established they seem native children of the soil, as
much as the Bracken and Heath around. It is remarkable how all this
is done without in the least detracting from the most perfect order
and keeping. Closely–shaven glades and wide Grass belts wind about
among such objects, while all trees that require special care and
attention show by their health and size that they find all they require
in this beautiful garden. It is more free from needless or offensive
geometrical–twirling, barren expanse of gravelled surface, and all
kinds of puerilities—old–fashioned and new–fangled—than any garden I
have seen for years.
The following, from a correspondent, shows what may be done with few
advantages as to space or situation:—
We have a dell with a small stream of spring water running through it.
When I first came to Brockhurst I found this stream carried underground
by a tile culvert, and the valley sides covered with Rhododendrons, the
soil between carefully raked and kept free from weeds, so that it was
only during springtime that flowers relieved the sombre effect of this
primness. After five years this has all been changed into what I think
you would call a wild garden, and we have cheerfulness and beauty all
the year round.
[Illustration: Sun Roses (Cistus) and other exotic hardy plants among
heather, on sandy slope.]
[Illustration: Wood and herbaceous Meadow–sweets grouped together in
Mr. Hewittson’s garden.]
In the first place the brooklet was brought to the surface, and
its course fringed with marsh plants, such as Marsh Marigolds,
Forget–me–nots, Celandines, Irises, Primroses, and Ranunculuses,
together with Osmundas, Hart’s–tongues, and other Ferns. Many
large–growing Carexes and ornamental Rushes are also here. Little
flats were formed and filled with peat, in which Cypripediums,
Trilliums, Orchises, Solomon’s Seal, and many rare bog plants find
a home. In the valley we have planted bulbs by thousands—Crocuses,
Snowdrops, Daffodils, Narcissi, etc. The Rhododendrons were thinned and
interspersed with Azaleas, Aucubas, and other handsome–foliaged shrubs,
to give brightness to the spring flowering, and rich colour to the
foliage in autumn. In the spaces between we introduced wild Hyacinths
everywhere, and in patches amongst these the Red Campion, together
with every other pretty wild flower we could obtain—Forget–me–nots,
Globe–flowers, Columbines, Anemones, Primroses, Cowslips, Polyanthuses,
Campanulas, Golden Rods, etc. All the bulbs which have bloomed in the
greenhouses are planted out in these spaces, so that there are now
large clumps of choice sorts of Crocus, Tulip, Narcissus, and Hyacinth.
We have also planted bulbs very extensively, and as they have been
allowed to grow on undisturbed we have now large patches of Daffodils,
Narcissi, and other spring flowers in great beauty and exuberance.
When we trim the garden all the spare plants are brought here, where
they form a reserve, and it is thus gradually getting stocked, and all
the bare ground covered with foliage and flowers. Lastly, for autumn
blooming we raised large quantities of Foxgloves in every colour, and
the larger Campanulas, and these were pricked out everywhere, so that
we have a glorious show of Foxglove flowers to close the year worth all
the trouble. A wild garden of this sort is a very useful reserve ground,
where many a plant survives after it has been lost in the borders. Such
spare seedlings as the Aquilegias, Campanulas, Primulas, Trolliuses,
and other hardy plants can here find space until wanted elsewhere, and
one can frequently find blooms for bouquets in the dell when the garden
flowers are over. The Lily of the Valley and Sweet Violet also flourish
here, creeping over heaps of stones, and flower more freely than they do
in more open situations. Visitors often say that the dell beats all the
rest of the garden for beauty, and it certainly gives less trouble in
the attainment.
Brockhurst, Didsbury. In _Garden_. WM. BROCKBANK.
THE WILD GARDEN IN AMERICA.[2]
Probably many of your readers will ask, “What _is_ a wild garden?”
When I came to London, about fifteen years ago, “flower–gardening” had
but one mode of expression only, viz. “bedding out,” and that in its
harshest form—ribbons, borders, and solid masses of flowers of one
colour and one height. The old hardy flowers had been completely swept
away; the various and once popular race of so–called florist’s flowers
were rarely or never seen. As a consequence, gardens were indescribably
monotonous to any person with the faintest notion of the inexhaustible
charms of the plant world. This kind of flower–gardening has the same
relation to true art in a garden which the daubs of colour on an
Indian’s blanket have to the best pictures. In fighting, some years
later, in the various journals open to me, the battle of nature and
variety against this saddening and blank monotony, I was occasionally
met by a ridicule of the old–fashioned mixed border which the bedding
plants had supplanted. Now, a well–arranged and varied mixed border
may be made one of the most beautiful of gardens; but to so form it
requires some knowledge of plants, as well as good taste. Nevertheless,
the objection was just as concerned the great majority of mixed borders;
they were ragged, unmeaning, and even monotonous.
I next began to consider the various ways in which hardy plants might
be grown wholly apart from either way (the bedding plants or that of
the mixed border), and the _wild garden_, or garden formed in the
wilderness, grove, shrubbery, copse, or rougher parts of the pleasure
garden, was a pet idea which I afterwards threw into the form of a
book with this name. In nearly all our gardens we have a great deal
of surface wholly wasted—wide spaces in the shrubbery frequently dug
over in the winter, plantations, grass–walks, hedgerows, rough banks,
slopes, etc., which hitherto have grown only grass and weeds, and on
these a rich garden flora may be grown. Hundreds of the more vigorous
and handsome herbaceous plants that exist will thrive in these places
and do further good in exterminating weeds and preventing the need of
digging. Every kind of surface may be embellished by a person with any
slight knowledge of hardy plants—ditch–banks, gravel–pits, old trees,
hedge–banks, rough, grassy places that are never mown, copses, woods,
lanes, rocky or stony ground.
The tendency has always been to suppose that a plant from another
country than our own was a subject requiring much attention, not
thinking that the conditions that occur in such places as mentioned
above, are, as a rule, quite as favourable as those that obtain in
nature throughout the great northern regions of Europe, Asia, and
America. Here some common plants of the woods of the Eastern States are
considered rarities and coddled accordingly to their destruction. It
is quite a phenomenon to see a flower on the little Yellow Dog’s–Tooth
Violet, which I remember seeing in quantity among the grass in your
noble Central Park. When one has but a few specimens of a plant, it is
best no doubt to carefully watch them. But an exposed and carefully
dug garden border is the worst place to grow many wood and copse
plants (I mean plants that grow naturally in such places), and in
many uncultivated spots here the American Dog’s–Tooth Violet would
flower quite as freely as at home. Your beautiful little May–flower,
Epigæa repens, we have never succeeded in growing in our best American
nurseries, as they are called, which grow your Rhododendrons and other
flowering shrubs so well. If a number of young plants of this were put
out in a sandy fir–wood, under the shrubs and pines, as they grow in New
Jersey, we should succeed at once. Your beautiful Trillium grandiflorum
is usually seen here in a poor state; but I have seen a plant in a shady
position in a shrubbery, in rich, moist soil, quite two feet through and
two feet high.
[Illustration: Woodruft and Ivy.]
I mention these things to show that the wild garden may even have
advantages from the point of view of cultivation. Another advantage
is the facilities it affords us for enjoying representations of the
vegetation of other countries. Here, for example, the poorest soil in
the most neglected copse will grow a mixture of golden rods and asters,
which will give us an aspect of vegetation everywhere seen in American
woods in autumn. This to you may appear a very commonplace delight; but
as we have nothing at all like it, it is welcome. Besides, we in this
way get the golden rods and coarser asters out of the garden proper,
in which they used to overrun the choicer plants, and where they did
much to disgrace the mixed border. So, in like manner, you may, in New
England or New Jersey, make wild gardens of such of our English flowers
as you love. For example, the now numerous and very handsome varieties
of our Primroses, Polyanthuses, and Oxlips would probably succeed better
with you in moist places, in woods, or partially shaded positions, than
in the open garden. There can be no doubt in which position they would
look best. But let us suppose for a moment that there was no other
object for the wild garden in America than growing the many lovely wild
flowers that inhabit the land, it is sufficient. Here some of your
wildlings are the darlings of our rock–garden growers, though we are
far from possessing all the bright flowers and graceful trailers that
adorn the bogs and woods and heaths of the Eastern States. It would
be most wise, in case of possessing a little bit of wood or copse,
adorned naturally with the trailing Partridge Berry, and the rosy Lady’s
Slipper (Cypripedium acaule), which I noticed growing so plentifully, to
preserve the spot as a wild garden, and add to it such home and foreign,
free and handsome hardy plants, as one could obtain.
It is impossible in this letter to speak of the various kinds of wild
gardens, but the opportunity which the system offers for embellishing
cool shady places is one which should make it interesting to the people
to whose language belongs the term “shade trees.” Usually flower beds
and borders are in the full sun—a very proper arrangement in a cool
country. But even in our climate, there are in the warm months many
days in which the woodland shade is sought in preference to the open
lawn, and when the fully–exposed garden is deserted. Therefore, it
is clearly desirable that we have flowers in shady as well as sunny
places. Many plants, too, love the shade, and we only require to plant
the most suitable of these to enjoy a charming wild garden. It need not
be pointed out to Americans that a vast number of herbaceous plants
naturally inhabit woods. In America, where shade is such a necessity,
the wild garden in the shade will be the most delightful retreat near
the country house. In it many of the plants common in the gardens of
all northern countries will, without wearisome attention, flower in the
spring.
For the early summer months flowers of a somewhat later period will be
selected, as, for example, the later Irises—lovely hardy flowers, the
tall Asphodel A. ramosus, the Day Lilies (Hemerocallis), the Solomon’s
Seal and some of its allies, the Veronicas, tall Phloxes, the great
Scarlet Poppy (Papaver bracteatum), Symphytums in variety;—these are all
free–growing and admirable plants for the wild wood–garden. Mulleins
(Verbascum), Salvias, Harebells (Campanula), Willow herbs, tall Lupines,
Geraniums, Spurges, Meadow Rues, Columbines, Delphiniums, and the latest
wind flowers (Anemone).
Later still, and in the sunny days, would come the various beautiful
everlasting peas, various plants of the Mallow tribe, the Poke Weeds,
broad–leaved Sea Lavender, and other vigorous kinds, the Globe Thistles,
Acanthuses, the free–flowering Yuccas, such as Y. flaccida and Y.
filamentosa, the common Artichoke, with its noble flowers; and in
autumn, a host of the Golden Rods and Michaelmas Daisies. These are so
common in America that adding them to the wild garden would probably be
considered a needless labour; but the substitution of the various really
beautiful species of aster for those commonly found and of inferior
beauty would well repay. In case it were thought desirable in making
a wild garden in a shady position to grow plants that do not attain
perfection in such positions, they might be grown in the more open parts
at hand, and sufficiently near to be seen in the picture.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIII.
A PLAN FOR THE EMBELLISHMENT OF THE SHRUBBERY BORDERS IN LONDON PARKS.
[Illustration: Dug and mutilated Shrubbery in St. James’s Park.
_Sketched in winter of 1879._]
In the winter season, or indeed at any other season, one of the most
melancholy things to be seen in our parks and gardens are the long,
bare, naked shrubberies, extending, as along the Bayswater Road, more
or less for a mile in a place; the soil greasy, black, seamed with
the mutilated roots of the poor shrubs and trees; which are none the
better, but very much the worse, for the cruel annual attention of
digging up their young roots without returning any adequate nourishment
or good to the soil. Culturally, the whole thing is suicidal, both
for trees and plants. The mere fact of men having to pass through
one of those shrubberies every autumn, and, as they fancy, “prune”
and otherwise attend to unfortunate shrubs and low trees, leads to
this, and especially to the shrubs taking the appearance of inverted
besoms. Thus a double wrong is done, and at great waste of labour.
Any interesting life that might be in the ground is destroyed, and
the whole appearance of the shrubbery is made hideous from the point
of view of art; all good culture of flowering or evergreen shrubs
destroyed or made impossible. This system is an orthodox one, that has
descended to us from other days, the popular idea being that the right
thing to do in autumn is to dig the shrubbery. The total abolition of
this system, and the adoption of the one to be presently described,
would lead to the happiest revolution ever effected in gardening,
and be a perfectly easy, practicable means for the abolition of the
inverted besoms, and the choke–muddle shrubbery, and these awful wastes
of black soil and mutilated roots.
Two ideas should be fixed in the mind of the improver, the one being
to allow all the beautiful shrubs to assume their natural shapes,
either singly or in groups, with sufficient space between to allow of
their fair development, so that the shrubbery might, in the flowering
season, or indeed at all seasons, be the best kind of conservatory—a
beautiful winter garden even, with the branches of most of the shrubs
touching the ground, no mutilation whatever visible, and no hard dug
line outside the shrubs. This last improvement could easily be effected
by forming a natural fringe, so to say, by breaking up the usual hard
edge from good planting; by letting, in fact, the edge be formed by
well–furnished shrubs projected beyond the hard line, and running in
and out as they do on a hill copse, or as the box bushes sometimes do
on a Sussex down. Here care, variety in selection, taste and skill in
grouping, so as to allow different subjects, whether placed singly or
in groups, or little groves, being in a position where they may grow
well and be seen to advantage, would lead to the most charming results
in the open–air garden. With sufficient preparation at first, such
shrubberies would be the cause of very little trouble afterwards.
Now, such beauty could be obtained without any further aid from other
plants; and in many cases it might be desirable to consider the trees
and shrubs and their effect only, and let the turf spread in among
them; but we have the privilege of adding to this beautiful tree and
shrub life another world of beauty—the bulbs and herbaceous plants,
and innumerable beautiful things which go to form the ground flora, so
to say, of northern and temperate countries, and which light up the
world with loveliness in meadow or copse, or wood or alpine pasture
in the flowering season. The surface which is dug and wasted in all
our parks, and in numbers of our gardens, should be occupied with this
varied life; not in the miserable old mixed border fashion, with each
plant stuck up with a stick, but with the plants in groups and colonies
between the shrubs. In the spaces where turf would not thrive, or
where it might be troublesome to keep fresh, we should have irises,
or narcissi, or lupines, or French willows, or Japan anemones, or any
of scores of other lovely things which people cannot now find a place
for in our stiff gardens. The soil which now does little work, and in
which the tree–roots every year are mercilessly dug up, would support
myriads of lovely plants. The necessity of allowing abundant space
to the shrubs and trees, both in the young and the adult stage, gives
us some space to deal with, which may be occupied with weeds if we do
not take care of it. The remedy, then, is to replace the weed by a
beautiful flower, and to let some handsome hardy plant of the northern
world occupy each little space; keeping it clean for us, and, at the
same time, repaying us by abundant bloom, or fine foliage or habit.
This system in the first place allows the shrubs themselves to cover
the ground to a great extent. In the London parks now every shrub is
cut under so as to allow the digger to get near it; and this leads to
the most comical and villainous of shapes ever assumed by bushes. Even
the lilac bushes, which we see so horribly stiff, will cover the ground
with their branches if allowed room enough; therefore, to a great
extent, we should have the branches themselves covering the ground
instead of what we now see. But open spaces, little bays and avenues
running in among the shrubs, are absolutely essential, if we want to
fully enjoy what ought to be the beautiful inhabitants of our shrub
garden. Such openings offer delightful retreats for hardy flowers, many
of which thrive better in semi–shady spots than they do in the open,
while the effect of the flowers is immeasurably enhanced by the foliage
of the shrubs around. To carry out this plan well, one should have,
if possible, a good selection of the shrubs to begin with, although
the plainest shrubbery, which is not overgrown or overcrowded, may be
embellished with hardy plants on the ground. The plan may be adopted
in the case of new shrubberies being formed, or in the case of old
ones; though the old ones are frequently so dried up and overcrowded
that great alterations would have to be made here and there. In the
case of young shrubberies it is, of course, necessary at first to
keep the surface open for a while until the shrubs have taken hold of
the ground; then the interesting colonies to which we alluded may be
planted.
[Illustration: Colony of the Snowdrop–Anemone in Shrubbery not dug.
Anemone taking the place of weeds or bare earth.]
An essential thing is to abolish utterly the old dotting principle of
the mixed border, as always ugly and always bad from a cultural point
of view. Instead of sticking a number of things in one place, with
many labels, and graduating them from the back to the front, so as to
secure the stiffest imaginable kind of arrangement, the true way is to
have in each space wide colonies or groups of one kind, or more than
one kind. Here is a little bay, for example, with the turf running
into it, a handsome holly feathered to the turf forming one promontory,
and a spreading evergreen barberry, with its fine leaves also touching
the ground, forming the other. As the turf passes in between those two
it begins to be colonised with little groups of the pheasant’s–eye
Narcissus, and soon in the grass is changed into a waving meadow of
these fair flowers and their long grayish leaves. They carry the eye in
among the other shrubs, and perhaps carry it to some other colony of a
totally different plant behind—an early and beautiful boragewort, say,
with its bright blue flowers, also in a spreading colony. Some might
say, Your flowers of narcissi only last a certain time; how are you
going to replace them? The answer is, that they occupy, and beautifully
embellish, a place that before was wholly naked, and worse than naked,
and in this position we contend that our narcissi should be seen in
all their stages of bud and bloom and decay without being hurried out
of the world as soon as their fair bloom is over, as they are on the
border or in the greenhouse. They are worth growing if we only secure
this one beautiful aspect of vegetation where before all was worse
than lost. We also secure plenty of cut flowers without troubling the
ordinary resources of the garden.
We might then pass on to another, of the German iris, occupying not
only a patch, but a whole clump; for these enormous London parks of
ours have acres and acres on every side of this greasy dug earth which
ought to sparkle with flowers; and, therefore, a very fine plant might
be seen to a large extent. And how much better for the gardener or
cultivator to have to deal with one in one place than be tormented
with a hundred little “dots” of flowers—alpine, rock, wood, copse, or
meadow plants—all mixed up in that usually wretched soup called the
“mixed border”! No plants that require staking ought to be used in the
way we are speaking of. Day lilies, for example, are good plants. In
some bold opening what a fine effect we could get by having a spreading
colony of these therein; scores of plants might be named, that want no
sticking, for such places. Each plant having a sufficient space and
forming its own colony, there is much less doubt in case of alterations
as to what should be done. In fact, in the case of an intelligent
cultivator, there should be no doubt. Observe the advantage of this
plan. Instead of seeing the same plants everywhere, we should pass
on from narcissi to iris, from iris to bluebell, and thus meet with
a different kind of vegetation in each part of the park or garden,
instead of the eternal monotony of privet and long dreary line of
“golden–feather” everywhere. The same kind of variety, as suggested
for the flowers, should be seen among the shrubs. The sad planter’s
mixture—privet, laurel, etc.—taking all the colour and all the life and
charm out of the shrubbery, should be avoided; so, too, the oppressive
botanical business, with everything labelled, and plants classified out
of doors as they are in an herbarium. They should be put where they
would look well and grow best. Well carried out, such a system would
involve labour, and, above all things, taste at first; but it would
eventually resolve itself into the judicious removal of interloping
weeds. The labour that is now given to dig and mutilate once a year
and keep clean at other times of the year would easily, on the plan
proposed, suffice for a much larger area. More intelligence would
certainly be required. Any ignorant man can dig around and mutilate a
shrub and chop up a white lily if he meets it! But any person taught to
distinguish between our coarse native weeds and the beautiful plants we
want to establish, passing round now and then, would keep all safe.
On a large scale, in the London parks, such a plan would be impossible
to carry out without a nursery garden; that is to say, the things
wanted should be in such abundance, that making the features of the
kind we suggest would be easy to the superintendent. The acres and
acres of black surface should themselves afford here and there a
little ground where the many hardy plants adapted for this kind of
gardening might be placed and increased. This, supposing that a real
want of the public gardens of London—a large and well–managed nursery
in the pure air—is never carried out: the wastefulness of buying
everything they want—even the commonest things—is a costly drawback
to our London public gardens. At the very least we should have 100
acres of nursery gardens for the planting and replanting of the London
parks. So, too, there ought to be intelligent labour to carry out this
artistic planting; and with the now–awakened taste for some variety in
the garden, one cannot doubt that a few years will give us a race of
intelligent young men, who know a little of the plants that grow in
northern countries, and whose mental vision is not begun and ended by
the ribbon border.
The treatment of the margin of the shrubbery is a very important
point here. At present it is stiff—the shrubs cut in or the trees cut
in, and an unsightly border running straight along, perhaps with a
tile edging. Well, the right way is to have a broken margin, to let
the shrubs run in and out themselves, and let them form the margin;
let them come to the ground in fact, not stiffly, and here and there
growing right outside the ordinary boundary, in a little group. Throw
away altogether the crowded masses of starved privet and pruned laurel,
and let the turf pass right under a group of fine trees where such
are found. This turf itself might be dotted in spring with snowdrops
and early flowers; nothing, in fact, would be easier than for any
intelligent person, who knew and cared for trees and shrubs, to change
the monotonous wall of shrubbery into the most delightful of open–air
gardens; abounding in beautiful life, from the red tassels on the
topmost maples to flowers in the grass for children.
[Illustration: Colony of the Summer Snowflake, on margin of shrubbery.]
CHAPTER XIV.
THE PRINCIPAL TYPES OF HARDY EXOTIC FLOWERING PLANTS FOR THE WILD
GARDEN.
Wherever there is room, these plants should be at first grown in
nursery beds to ensure a good supply. The number of nursery collections
of hardy plants being now more numerous than they were a few years ago,
getting the plants is not so difficult as it once was. The sources of
supply are these nurseries; seed houses, who have lists of hardy plant
seeds—many kinds may be easily raised from seed; botanic gardens, in
which many plants are grown that hitherto have not found a place in our
gardens, and were not fitted for any mode of culture except that herein
suggested; orchards and cottage gardens in pleasant country places
may supply desirable things from time to time; and those who travel
may bring seeds or roots of plants they meet with in cool, temperate,
or mountain regions. Few plants, not free of growth and hardy in the
British Islands without any attention after planting, are included
here:—
=Bear’s Breech=, _Acanthus_.—Vigorous perennials with noble foliage,
mostly from Southern Europe. Long cast out of gardens, they are now
beginning to receive more of the attention they deserve. In no position
will they look better than carelessly planted here and there on the
margin of a shrubbery or thicket, where the leaves of the Acanthus
contrast well with those of the ordinary shrubs or herbaceous
vegetation. Though quite hardy in all soils, they flower most freely in
free loamy soils. Not varying very much in character, all obtainable
hardy species would group well together. The most vigorous kind at
present in cultivation is one called A. latifolius, almost evergreen,
and a fine plant when well established. Few plants are more fitted
for adorning wild and semi–wild places, as they grow and increase
without care, and are for foliage or bloom unsurpassed by any of the
numerous plants that have been so long neglected through their not being
available in any popular system of “flower gardening.”
[Illustration: The Monkshood, naturalised by wet ditch in wood.]
=Monkshood=, _Aconitum_.—These are tall, handsome perennials, with
very poisonous roots, which make it dangerous to plant them in or near
gardens. Being usually very vigorous in constitution, they spread
freely, and hold their own amongst the strongest herbaceous plants and
weeds; masses of them seen in flower in copses or near hedgerows afford
a very fine effect. There are many species, all nearly of equal value
for the wild garden. Coming from the plains and mountains of Siberia
and Northern Europe and America, they are among the hardiest of plants.
When spreading groups of Aconites are in bloom in copses or open spaces
in shrubberies, their effect is far finer than when the plants are tied
into bundles in trim borders. The old blue–and–white kind is charming in
half–shady spots, attaining stately dimensions in good soil. The species
grow in any soil, but are often somewhat stunted in growth on clay.
=Bugle=, _Ajuga_.—Not a very numerous family so far as represented in
gardens, but some of the species are valuable for the wild garden,
notably Ajuga genevensis, which thrives freely in ordinary soils in open
and half–shady places among dwarf vegetation, and affords beautiful
tufts and carpets of blue. It spreads rapidly and is hardy everywhere.
The plants mostly come from the cool uplands and hills of the temperate
regions of Europe and Asia.
=Yarrow=, _Achillea_.—A numerous family of hardy plants spread through
Northern Asia, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Hungary, etc., but more in
Southern than in Central or Northern Europe. In the Alps and Pyrenees
numerous species are found. The Golden Yarrows (A. Eupatorium and A.
filipendulina) are stately herbaceous plants, with broad handsome
corymbs of brilliantly showy flowers, attaining a height of 3 feet
or 4 feet, and growing freely in any soil. These are well worthy of
naturalisation. Various other Achilleas would grow quite as well in
copses and rough places as the common Yarrow, but we know of none more
distinct and brilliant than the preceding. The vigorous white–flowering
kinds are superb for shrubberies, where their numerous white heads of
flowers produce a singularly pleasing effect under the trees in summer.
With few exceptions these plants have never been grown out of botanic
gardens, many of them being thought too coarse for the mixed border.
They are, nevertheless, remarkably beautiful both in flower and foliage,
and many effects never before seen in gardens may be obtained by massing
them under trees in shrubberies or copses, as a rule allowing one
species to establish itself in each place and assume an easy natural
boundary of its own. The small Alpine species would be interesting
plants for stony or bare rocky places.
_Allium._—A most extensive genus of plants scattered in abundance
throughout the northern temperate and alpine regions of Europe and
Asia, and also in America. Some of the species are very beautiful,
so much so as to claim for them a place in gardens notwithstanding
their disagreeable odour. It is in the wild garden only, however, that
this family can find a fitting home; there species that do not seem
attractive enough for the garden proper would afford novel effects at
certain seasons. One of the most desirable effects to produce in the
wild garden would be that of the beautiful white Narcissus–like Allium
of the south of Europe (A. neapolitanum). The sheets of this in the
Lemon orchards of Provence will be remembered with pleasure by many
travellers. It would thrive in warm and sandy soils: there is an allied
species (A. ciliatum) which does well in any soil, affords a similar
effect, and produces myriads of star–like white flowers. Numerous
singular effects may be produced from species less showy and more
curious and vigorous, as for example the old yellow A. Moly.
[Illustration: The white Narcissus–like Allium, in the orchards of
Provence; type of family receiving little place in gardens which may be
beautiful for a season in wild places.]
_Alstrœmeria._—All who care for hardy flowers must admire the beauty of
Alstrœmeria aurantiaca, especially when it spreads into bold healthy
tufts, and when there is a great variety in the height of the flowering
stems. A valuable quality of the plant is, that in any light soil it
spreads freely, and it is quite hardy. For dry places between shrubs,
for dry or sandy banks (either wooded or bare), copses, or heathy
places, this plant is admirable. I have noticed it thriving in the
shade of fir trees. It is interesting as being a South American plant,
thriving in any open soil.
=Marsh Mallow=, _Althæa_.—These are plants rarely seen out of botanic
gardens now–a–days, and yet, from their vigour and showy flowers, they
may afford unique effects in the wild garden. The common Hollyhock is
an Althæa, and in its single form is typical of the vigorous habit
and the numerous showy flowers of other rampant species, such as A.
ficifolia. A group of these plants would be very effective seen from a
wood walk, no kind of garden arrangement being large enough for their
extraordinary vigour. It is not a numerous genus, but there are at least
a dozen species, principally found on the shores and islands of the
Mediterranean, and also in Western Asia.
_Alyssum._—In spring every little shoot of the wide tufts and flakes
of these plants sends up a little fountain of small golden flowers.
For bare, stony, or rocky banks, poor sandy ground, and ruins, they
are admirable. Alyssum Wiersbecki and A. saxatile are strong enough to
take care of themselves on the margins of shrubberies, etc., where the
vegetation is not very coarse, but they are more valuable for rocky or
stony places, or old ruins, and thrive freely on cottage garden walls
in some districts; some of the less grown species would be welcome
in such places. There are many species, natives of Germany, Russia,
France, Italy, Corsica, Sicily, Hungary, and Dalmatia; Asia, principally
Siberia, the Altai Mountains, Georgia, Persia, and the entire basin of
the Caspian, is rich in them.
[Illustration: The Alpine Windflower (Anemone alpina).]
=Windflower=, _Anemone_.—A numerous race of dwarf herbs that contribute
largely to the most beautiful effects of the mountain, wood, and
pasture vegetation of all northern and temperate climes. The flowers
vary from intense scarlet to the softest blue; most of the exotic
kinds would thrive as well in our woodlands and meadows as they do in
their own. There is hardly a position they may not adorn—warm, sunny,
bare banks, on which the Grecian A. blanda might open its large blue
flowers in winter; the tangled copse, where the Japan Windflower and
its varieties might make a bold show in autumn; and the shady wood,
where the Apennine Windflower would contrast charmingly with the Wood
Anemone so abundantly scattered in our own woods. The Hepaticas should
be considered as belonging to the same genus, not forgetting the
Hungarian one, A. angulosa. The Hepaticas thrive best and are seen best
in half–woody places, where the spring sun may cheer them by passing
through the branches, which afterwards become leafy and shade them from
the scorching heats of summer.
=St. Bruno’s Lily=, _Anthericum_.—One of the most lovely aspects of
vegetation in the alpine meadows of Europe is that afforded by the
delicate white flowers of the St. Bruno’s Lily in the Grass in early
summer, looking like miniature white Lilies. All who have seen it would
no doubt like to enjoy the same in their turfy lawns or Grassy places,
and there should be no difficulty in establishing it. The large–flowered
or major variety might be tried with advantage in this way, and the
smaller–flowered kinds, A. Liliago and its varieties, are equally
suitable. They are not so likely to find favour in gardens as the larger
kind, and therefore the wild garden is the home for them, and in it many
will admire their graceful habit and numerous flowers. All the species
best worth growing are natives of the alpine meadows of Europe.
=Alkanet=, _Anchusa_.—Tall and handsome herbaceous plants, with numerous
flowers of a fine blue, admirable for dotting about in open places in
sunny glades in woods or copses. They mostly come from Southern Europe
and Western Asia. A. italica and A. capensis are among the most useful.
The English Anchusa sempervirens, rare in some places, is an excellent
wild garden plant.
=Snapdragon=, _Antirrhinum_.—The common Snapdragon and its beautifully
spotted varieties are easily naturalised on old walls and ruins by
sowing the seed in old or mossy chinks. Antirrhinum Asarinum, rupestre,
and molle do well treated in the same way. Probably many other species
would be found good in like places. About two dozen species are known,
but comparatively few of these are in cultivation. They mostly come from
the shores of the Mediterranean.
=Columbine=, _Aquilegia_.—Favourite herbaceous plants, generally of
various shades of blue and purple, white, and sometimes bright orange.
The varieties of the common kind (A. vulgaris), which are very numerous,
are those most likely to be naturalised. In elevated and moist districts
some of the beautiful Rocky Mountain kinds would be worth a trial in
bare places. In places where wild gardens have been formed the effect
of Columbines in the Grass has been one of the most beautiful that have
been obtained. The flowers group themselves in all sorts of pretty ways,
showing just above the long Grass, and possessing great variety of
colour. The vigorous and handsome A. chrysantha of Western America is
the most hardy and enduring of the American kinds. The species are of a
truly northern and alpine family, most abundant in Siberia.
[Illustration: Siberian Columbine in rocky place.]
=Wall Cress=, _Arabis_.—Dwarf alpine plants, spreading in habit, and
generally producing myriads of white flowers, exceedingly suitable
for the decoration of sandy or rocky ground, where the vegetation is
very dwarf. With them may be associated Cardamine trifolia and Thlaspi
latifolium, which resemble the Arabises in habit and flowers. All these
are particularly suited for association with the purple Aubrietias, or
yellow Alyssums, and in bare and rocky or gravelly places, old walls,
sunk fences, etc.
=Sandwort=, _Arenaria_.—A most important family of plants for the wild
garden, though perhaps less so for lowland gardens where more vigorous
types flourish. There are, however, certain species that are vigorous
and indispensable, such as A. montana and A. graminifolia. The smaller
alpine species are charming for rocky places, and the little creeping A.
balearica has quite a peculiar value, inasmuch as moist rocks or stones
suffice for its support. It covers such surfaces with a close carpet
of green, dotted with numerous star–like flowers. Some of the smaller
species, such as Arenaria cæspitosa (Sagina glabra var.), better known
as Spergula pilifera, might be grown in the gravel, and even used to
convert bare and sandy places into carpets of Mossy turf. In certain
positions in large gardens it would be an improvement to allow the
very walks or drives to become covered with very dwarf plants—plants
which could be walked upon with little injury. The surface would be
dry enough, being drained below, and would be more agreeable to the
feet. Removing any coarse weeds that established themselves would be
much easier than the continual hoeing and scraping required to keep the
walk bare. Of course this only refers to walks in rough or picturesque
places—the wild garden and the like—in which formal bare walks are
somewhat out of place.
[Illustration: Tall Asphodel in copse.]
=Asphodel=, _Asphodelus_.—The Asphodels are among the plants that have
never been popular in the mixed border, nor are they likely to be so,
the habit of the species being somewhat coarse and the flowering period
not long, and yet they are of a stately and distinct order of beauty,
which well deserves to be represented in open spaces, in shrubberies, or
on their outer fringes. The plants are mostly natives of the countries
round the Mediterranean, and thrive freely in ordinary soils.
=Lords and Ladies=, _Arum_.—Mostly a tropical and sub–tropical family,
some of which grow as far north as southern Europe. These are quite
hardy in our gardens. The Italian Arum is well worthy of a place in the
wild garden, from its fine foliage in winter. It should be placed in
sheltered half–shady places where it would not suffer much from storms.
The old Dragon plant (A. Dracontium) grows freely enough about the foot
of rocks or walls in sandy, or dry, peaty places. The nearly allied
Arum Lily (Calla æthiopica) is quite hardy as a water and water–side
plant in the southern counties of England and Ireland.
=Silkweed=, _Asclepias_.—Usually vigorous perennials, with very curious
and ornamental flowers, common in fields and on river banks in North
America and Canada, where they sometimes become troublesome weeds.
Of the species in cultivation, A. Cornuti and A. Douglasi could be
naturalised easily in rich deep soil in wild places. The showy and
dwarfer Asclepias tuberosa requires very warm sand soils to flower
as well as in its own dry hills and fields. A good many of the hardy
species are not introduced; for such the place is the wild garden. Some
of them are water–side plants, such as A. incarnata, the Swamp Silkweed
of the United States.
=Starwort=, _Aster_.—A very large family of usually vigorous, often
showy, and sometimes beautiful perennials, mostly with bluish or
white flowers, chiefly natives of North America. Many of these, of an
inferior order of beauty, used to be planted in our mixed borders,
which they very much helped to bring into discredit, and they form a
very good example of a class of plants for which the true place is the
copse, or rough and half–cared–for places in shrubberies and copses,
and by wood–walks, where they will grow as freely as any native weeds,
and in many cases prove highly attractive in late summer and autumn.
Such kinds as A. pyrensæus, Amellus, and turbinellus, are amongst the
most ornamental perennials we have. With the Asters may be grouped
the Galatellas, the Vernonias, and also the handsome and rather dwarf
Erigeron speciosus, which, however, not being so tall, could not fight
its way among such coarse vegetation as that in which the Asters may be
grown. Associated with the Golden Rods (Solidago)—also common plants
of the American woods and copses—the best of the Asters or Michaelmas
Daisies will form a very interesting aspect of vegetation. It is that
one sees in American woods in late summer and autumn when the Golden
Rods and Asters are seen in bloom together. It is one of numerous
aspects of the vegetation of other countries which the “wild garden”
will make possible in gardens. To produce such effects the plants must,
of course, be planted in some quantity in one part of a rather open
wood, and not repeated all over the place or mixed up with many other
things. Nearly 200 species are known, about 150 of which form part of
the rich vegetation of North America. These fine plants inhabit that
great continent, from Mexico—where a few are found—to the United States
and Canada, where they abound, and even up to the regions altogether
arctic of that quarter of the world.
=Milk Vetch=, _Astragalus_.—An enormously numerous family of beautiful
hardy plants, represented to but a very slight extent in our gardens,
though hundreds of them are hardy, and many of them among the most
pleasing of the many Pea flowers which adorn the hills and mountains
of the northern world in Asia, Europe, and America. They are mostly
suited for rocky or gravelly situations, or bare banks, though some of
the taller species, like A. galegiformis, are stout enough to take care
of themselves among the larger perennials. This plant is valuable for
its handsome port and foliage, though its flowering qualities are not
such as recommend it for the garden proper. The numerous species from
the Mediterranean shores and islands could be successfully introduced
on banks and slopes in our chalk districts and in rocky places. A.
ponticus, a tall kind, and A. monspessulanus, a dwarf one, are both
worth growing.
=Masterwort=, _Astrantia_.—This is an elegant genus, of which few
species are known, five being European—found in Italy, Carinthia,
Greece, and the centre of Europe—others from Northern Asia. They are
among the few umbellates with attractive and distinct flowers, and yet
they are rarely seen in gardens. In the wild garden they are quite at
home among the Grass and medium–sized herbaceous plants, and partial
shade prolongs their quaint beauty. In fact they are far more at home in
the thin wood or copse than in the open exposed mixed border.
=Blue Rock Cress=, _Aubrietia_.—Dwarf Alpine plants, with purplish
flowers, quite distinct in aspect and hue from anything else grown in
our gardens, and never perishing from any cause, except being overrun by
coarser subjects. They are admirable for association with the Alyssums
and Arabises in any position where the vegetation is very dwarf, or in
rocky bare places. There are several species and varieties, all almost
equally suitable, but not differing much in aspect or stature from each
other. The Aubrietias come chiefly from the mountains of Greece, Asia
Minor, and neighbouring countries. Wherever there is an old wall, or a
sunk fence, or a bare bank, evergreen curtains may be formed of these
plants, and in spring they will be sheeted with purple flowers, no
matter how harsh the weather.
=Great Birthwort=, _Aristolochia Sipho_.—A noble plant for covering
arbours, banks, stumps of old trees, etc., also wigwam–like bowers,
formed with branches of trees. It is American, and will grow as high as
thirty feet, A. tomentosa is distinct and not so large in leaf. These
will scarcely be grown for their flowers; but for covering stumps or
trees they are valuable, and afford a distinct type of foliage.
=Virginian Creepers=, _Ampelopsis_.—Although this chapter is mostly
devoted to herbaceous plants, the Virginian Creeper and its allies
are so useful for forming curtains in rocky places, ravines, or over
old trees, that they deserve mention here. These plants are not very
distant relations of the vine—the wild American vines which are worthy
of a place in our groves, garlanding trees as they do in a grand way.
Some noble in colour of leaf are grown in nurseries—U. Humboldti being
remarkable both for colour and size of leaf.
=Bamboo=, _Bambusa_.—In many parts of England, Ireland, and Wales,
various kinds of Bamboos are perfectly hardy, and not only hardy, but
thrive freely. In cold, dry, and inland districts, it is true, they grow
with difficulty—all the greater reason for making the best use of them
where they grow freely. Their beauty is the more precious from their
being wholly distinct in habit from any other plants or shrubs that we
grow. The delicate feathering of the young, tall, and slender shoots,
the charming arching of the stems, have often been fertile in suggestion
to the Japanese artist, and often adorn his best work. They may be
enjoyed with all the charms of life in many gardens. The wild garden,
where the climate is suitable, is the best home for Bamboos. They are so
tall and so enduring at the roots that they will take care of themselves
among the tallest and strongest plants or bushes, and the partial
shelter of the thin wood or copse preserves their abundant leaves from
violent and cold winds. Along by quiet Grass walks, in sheltered dells,
in little bogs, in the shrubbery, or in little lawns opened in woods for
the formation of wild gardens, the Bamboo will be at home. The commonest
kind is that generally known as Arundinaria falcata (sometimes called
Bambusa gracilis); but others, such as Bambusa Metake, B. Simmonsi, and
B. viridis–glaucescens, are of equal or greater value. They all delight
in rich, light, and moist soils.
=Baptisia.=—A strong Lupin–like plant seldom grown in gardens, but
beautiful when in bloom for its long blue racemes of pea flowers,
growing three to four feet high; it will hold its own in strong soil.
=Borage=, _Borago_.—A genus seldom seen out of Botanic gardens, where
they form part of the usual distressing arrangements honoured with
the name of “scientific.” Among the best kinds for our purpose are B.
cretica and B. orientalis, even the well–known annual kind will be found
a pretty plant, naturalised and useful for covering mounds.
=Bell–flower=, _Campanula_.—Beautiful and generally blue–flowered
herbs, varying from a few inches to 4 ft. in height, and abundantly
scattered in northern and temperate countries. Many kinds are in
cultivation. All the medium–sized and large kinds thrive very well in
rough places, woods, copses, or shrubberies, among grasses and other
herbaceous plants; while those smaller in size than our own harebell
(C. rotundifolia) are quite at home, and very pretty, on any arid or
bare surfaces, such as sandy banks, chalk pits, and even high up on
old walls, ruins, etc. In such positions the seeds have only to be
scattered. C. rapunculoides and C. lamiifolia do finely in shrubberies
or copses, as, indeed, do all the tall–growing kinds. Where there are
white varieties they should be secured; many people will begin to see
the great beauty of this family for the first time when they see them
growing among the grass or herbs. The effect is far more beautiful than
can be obtained in the garden proper.
=Red Valerian=, _Centranthus ruber_.—This showy and pleasing plant
is only seen in highest perfection on elevated banks, rubbish–heaps,
or old walls, in which positions it endures much longer than on the
level ground, and becomes a long–lived perennial with a shrubby base.
On the long bridge across the Nore at Col. Tighe’s place, Woodstock,
Kilkenny, it grows in abundance, forming a long line on the wall above
the arches; of course it could be easily grown on ruins, while it is
invaluable for banks of all kinds, chalk pits, etc., and also for the
level ground, except in heavy cold soils. Some of the larger Valerianas
would grow freely in rough places, but none of them are so distinct as
the preceding.
=Knap–weed=, _Centaurea_.—Vigorous perennial or annual herbaceous
plants, seldom so pretty as autumn–sown plants of our corn bluebottle
(C. Cyanus). They are scarcely important enough for borders; hence the
wild wood is the place for them. Among the most suitable kinds may be
mentioned macrocephala, montana, babylonica, and uniflora, the last more
suitable for banks, etc.
=Mouse–ear=, _Cerastium_.—Dwarf spreading perennials, bearing a
profusion of white flowers. Half a dozen or more of the kinds have
silvery leaves, which, with their flowers, give them an attractive
character. Most of these are used as bedding plants, but, as they will
grow in any position where they are not choked by coarser plants, they
may be employed with good effect in the wild garden.
=Wallflower=, _Cheiranthus_.—The varieties of the common wallflower
afford quite a store of beauty in themselves for the embellishment of
rocky places, old walls, etc. Probably other species of Cheiranthus
will be found to grow on ruins quite as well, but at present we are not
quite sure of these. The clear yellow Erysimum ochroleucum is very like
a wallflower in type, and thrives well in dry sandy places. With these
might be associated Vesicaria utriculata.
[Illustration: The foliage of the Meadow Saffron in Spring.]
=Meadow Saffron=, _Colchicum_.—In addition to the meadow saffron,
plentifully dotted over the moist fields in various parts of England,
there are several other species which could be readily naturalised in
almost any soil and position. They would be particularly desirable where
subjects that flower in autumn would be sought; and they are charming,
seen in tufts or colonies on the lawn or in the pleasure–ground.
=Crocus.=—One or two Crocuses are naturalised in England already, and
there is scarcely one of them that will not succeed thus if properly
placed. They should not be placed where coarse vegetation would choke
them up or prevent the sun getting to their flowers and leaves. Some of
the delicately–tinted varieties of vernus are well worth dotting about
in grassy places and on sunny slopes, if only to accompany the snowdrop.
C. Imperati is a valuable early–flowering kind, and the autumnal
flowering ones are particularly desirable; but we must not particularise
where all are good. “In the plantations here,” writes a correspondent,
“on each side of a long avenue, we have the common Crocus in every
shade of purple (there are scarcely any yellow ones) growing literally
in hundreds of thousands. We have no record of when the roots were
originally planted (and the oldest people about the estate say they have
always been the same as far as their recollection goes); but they grow
so thickly that it is quite impossible to step where they are without
treading on two or three flowers. The effect produced by them in spring
is magnificent, but unfortunately, their beauty is but short–lived. I
have transplanted a good many roots to the wild garden, to the great
improvement of the size of the individual blooms; they are so matted
together in the shrubberies I have mentioned, and have remained so long
in the same place, that the flowers are small.”
[Illustration: The White–flowered European Clematis (C. erecta).]
=Virgin’s Bower=, _Clematis_.—Mostly climbing or trailing plants, free,
often luxuriant, sometimes rampant, in habit, with bluish, violet,
purple, white, or yellow flowers, produced most profusely, and sometimes
deliciously fragrant. They are most suited for covering stumps, planting
on rocky places, among low shrubs in copses, for draping over the
faces of rocks, sunny banks, or the brows of sunk fences, covering
objectionable railings, rough bowers, chalk pits, hedges, etc., and
occasionally for isolating in large tufts in open spaces where their
effect could be seen from a distance. Not particular as to soil, the
stronger kinds will grow in any ground, but the large–flowered new
hybrids will thrive best in warm, rich, deep soil.
C. Viorna, C. flammula, montana, campaniflora, Viticella, and cirrhosa,
must not be omitted from a selection of the wild kinds. The new garden
hybrids will also be useful.
=Dwarf Cornel=, _Cornus canadensis_.—This charming little bushy plant,
singularly beautiful from its white bracts, is a very attractive subject
for naturalisation in moist, sandy, or peaty spots, in which our native
heaths, Mitchella repens, Linnæa borealis, and the Butterworts would
be likely to thrive. It would also grow well in moist woods, where the
herbaceous vegetation is dwarf.
=Mocassin Flower=, _Cypripedium spectabile_.—The noblest of hardy
orchids, found far north in America, and thriving perfectly in England
and Ireland in deep rich or vegetable soil. Wherever the soil is not
naturally peat or rich vegetable matter this fine plant will succeed on
the margins of beds of rhododendrons, etc. It should be sheltered by
surrounding bushes, and be in a moist position. Others of the genus,
and various other hardy orchids, are worthy of naturalisation; but the
mocassin flower is the best as well as the most easily tried at present.
=Sowbread=, _Cyclamen_.—It was the sight of a grove nearly covered with
Cyclamen hederæfolium, near Montargis, in France, that first turned my
attention to the “Wild Garden.” Both C. hederæfolium and C. europæum may
be naturalised with the greatest ease on light, loamy, or other warm and
open soil. C. vernum, C. Coum, and C. repandum, are also well worthy of
trial. Nothing can be more agreeable to the lover of hardy plants than
endeavouring to naturalise these charming flowers, now rarely seen out
of the greenhouse. The best positions would be among dwarf shrubs, etc.,
that would afford slight shelter, on banks or sunny open spots in copses
or woods. Bare or dug borders they abhor, and a sunny warm exposure
should be chosen. In the case of C. hederæfolium (and perhaps some of
the others) ground under trees, bare, or with a very scant vegetation of
herbs, etc., would do quite well if the soil were free and warm. There
is scarcely a country seat in England in which the hardy Cyclamens, now
almost entirely neglected by the gardener, could not be naturalised.
[Illustration: Cyclamens in the wild garden; from nature.]
=The Giant Sea–kale=, _Crambe_.—“C. cordifolia is a very fine perennial,
but its place is on the turf in rich soil. It has enormous leaves,
and small whitish flowers in panicles. Here it is one of the finest
ornaments in a wild garden of about five acres, associated with Rheums,
Ferulas, Gunneras, Centaurea babylonica, Arundo Donax, Acanthus, and
others.”
=Bindweed=, _Calystegia_.—Climbing plants, with handsome white or rosy
flowers, often too vigorous in constitution to be agreeable in gardens,
as is the case with our common bindweed. C. dahurica, somewhat larger
than the common kind, is very handsome when allowed to trail through
shrubs, in rough places, or over stumps, rustic bridges, etc., and
doubtless sundry other species will in time be found equally useful.
The pretty little Rosy Bindweed that one meets often upon the shores
of the Mediterranean is here depicted at home in an English garden,
creeping up the leaves of an Iris in Mr. Wilson’s garden at Heatherbank,
Weybridge Heath. It is a great privilege we have of being able to grow
the fair flowers of so many regions in our own, and without caring
for them in the sense, and with the troubles that attend other living
creatures in menageries, aviaries, etc. This is an advantage that we do
not evidently consider when we put a few plants in lines and circles
only, oblivious of the infinite beauty and variety of the rest. This
beautiful pink Bindweed is the representative, so to speak, of our own
Rosy Field Bindweed in the south, but nevertheless it is perfectly hardy
and free in our own soils. Its botanical name is Convolvulus althæoides.
[Illustration: A South European Bindweed creeping up the stems of an
Iris in an English garden.]
=Marsh Calla=, _Calla palustris_.—A creeping Arum–like plant, with
white flowers showing above a carpet of glossy leaves, admirable for
naturalisation in muddy places, moist bogs, on the margins of ponds, etc.
=Rosy Coronilla=, _Coronilla varia_.—Europe. On grassy banks, stony
heaps, rough rocky ground, spreading over slopes or any like positions.
A very fine plant for naturalisation, thriving in any soil.
=Giant Scabious=, _Cephalaria_.—Allied to Scabious but seldom grown.
They are worth a place in the wild garden for their fine vigour alone,
and the numerous pale yellow flowers will be admired by those who do not
limit their admiration to showy colours.
=Coral–wort=, _Dentaria_.—Very showy perennials, the purplish or white
flowers of which present somewhat of the appearance of a stockflower,
quite distinct both in habit and bloom, and very rarely seen in our
gardens; they will be found to thrive well and look well in peat soil
beneath rhododendrons, and towards the margins of clumps of American
shrubs.
=Leopard’s Bane=, _Doronicum_.—Stout, medium–sized, or dwarf perennials,
with hardy and vigorous constitutions, and very showy flowers; well
suited for naturalisation among herbaceous vegetation, in any position
where the beauty of their early bloom can be enjoyed.
=American Cowslip=, _Dodecatheon_.—All who care for hardy flowers admire
the beautiful American cowslip (D. Meadia), found in rich woods in
Pennsylvania, Ohio, to Wisconsin and south–westward, in America. This
would be a charming plant to naturalise on rich and light sandy loams,
among dwarf herbs, low shrubs, etc., in sheltered and sunny spots.
Jeffrey’s American cowslip (D. Jeffreyanum), a vigorous–growing kind,
is also well worth a trial in this way, though as yet it is hardly
plentiful enough to be spared for this purpose.
=Fumitory=, _Fumaria_, _Dielytra_.—Plants with graceful leaves and gay
flowers suited for association with dwarf subjects on open banks, except
D. spectabilis, which in deep peat or other rich soil will grow a yard
high. The simple–looking little Fumaria bulbosa is one of the dwarf
subjects which thrive very well under the branches of specimen deciduous
trees, and Corydalis lutea thrives in every position from the top of
an old castle to the bottom of a well shaft. I saw Dielytra eximia
naturalised in Buckhurst Park, in a shrubbery, the position shady. Its
effect was most charming, the plumy tufts being dotted all over with
flowers. Had I before wished to naturalise this, I should have put it
on open slopes, or among dwarf plants, but it thrives and spreads about
with the greatest freedom in shady spots. The blossoms, instead of
being of the usual crimson hue, were of a peculiar delicate pale rose,
no doubt owing to the shade; and, as they gracefully drooped over the
elegantly–cut leaves, they looked like snowdrops of a faint rosy hue.
=Delphinium=, _Perennial species_.—Tall and beautiful herbaceous plants,
with flowers of many exquisite shades of blue and purple. There are
now numerous varieties. They are well suited for rich soil in glades,
copses, thin shrubberies, or among masses of dwarf shrubs, above which
their fine spikes of bloom might here and there arise.
One of the prettiest effects which I have ever seen among naturalised
plants was a colony of tall Larkspurs (Delphiniums). Portions of old
roots of several species and varieties had been chopped off where a
bed of these plants was being dug in the autumn. For convenience sake
the refuse had been thrown into the neighbouring shrubbery, far in
among the shrubs and tall trees. Here they grew in certain half–open
little spaces, which were so far removed from the margin that they were
not dug and were not seen. When I saw the Larkspurs in flower they
were certainly the loveliest things that one could see. They were more
beautiful than they are in borders or beds, not growing in such close
stiff tufts, and mingling with and relieved by the trees above and the
shrubs around. Little more need be said to any one who knows and cares
about such plants, and has an opportunity of planting in such neglected
places. This case points out pretty clearly that one might make wild
gardens from the mere parings and thinnings of the beds and borders in
autumn, in any place where there is a collection of good hardy plants.
The cut on p. 28 does scant justice to the scene, which, perhaps, it is
not in the power of wood engraving to illustrate.
=Pink=, _Dianthus_.—A numerous race of beautiful dwarf mountain plants,
with flowers mostly of various shades of rose, sometimes sporting into
other colours in cultivation. The finer mountain kinds would be likely
to thrive only on bare stony or rocky ground, and amidst very dwarf
vegetation. The bright D. neglectus would thrive in any ordinary soil.
Some of the kinds in the way of our own D. cæsius grow well on old walls
and ruins, as do the single carnations and pinks; indeed, it is probable
that many kinds of pink would thrive on ruins and old walls better far
than on the ground.
=Foxglove=, _Digitalis_.—It need not be said here that our own stately
Foxglove should be encouraged in the wild garden, particularly in
districts where it does not naturally grow wild; I allude to it here to
point out that there are a number of exotic species for which a place
might be found in the wild garden—some of them are not very satisfactory
otherwise. The most showy hardy flowers of midsummer are the Foxglove
and the French willow (Epilobium angustifolium), and in wild or rough
places in shrubberies, etc., their effect is beautiful. In such half
shady places the Foxglove thrives best; and, as the French willow is
much too rampant a plant for the garden proper, the proper place for it
too is in the wild garden. It is a most showy plant, and masses of it
may be seen great distances off. The delicately and curiously spotted
varieties of the Foxglove should be sown as well as the ordinary wild
form.
=Hemp Agrimony=, _Eupatorium_.—Vigorous perennials, with white or purple
fringed flowers. Some of the American kinds might well be associated
with our own wild one—the white kinds, like aromaticum and ageratoides,
being very beautiful and distinct, and well worthy of a place in the
best parts of the wild garden.
=Sea Holly=, _Eryngium_.—Very distinct and noble–looking perennials,
with ornamental and usually spiny leaves, and flowers in heads,
sometimes surrounded by a bluish involucrum, and supported on stems of
a fine amethystine blue. They would be very attractive on margins of
shrubberies and near wood–walks, thrive in ordinary free soil, and will
take care of themselves among tall grasses and all but the most vigorous
herbs.
=Heath=, _Erica_, _Menziesia_.—Our own heathy places are pretty rich in
this type, but the brilliant Erica carnea is so distinct and attractive
that it well deserves naturalisation among them. The beautiful St.
Daboec’s heath (Menziesia polifolia) deserves a trial in the same way,
as, though found in the west of Ireland, it is to the majority of
English gardens an exotic plant. It will grow almost anywhere in peaty
soil.
=Barren–wort=, _Epimedium_.—Interesting and very distinct, but
comparatively little known perennials, with pretty and usually
delicately tinted flowers, and singular and ornamental foliage. They are
most suitable for peaty or free moist soils, in sheltered positions,
among low shrubs on rocky banks, etc., and near the eye. The variety
called E. pinnatum elegans, when in deep peat soil, forms tufts of
leaves nearly a yard high, and in spring is adorned with long racemes
of pleasing yellow flowers, so that it is well worthy of naturalisation
where the soil is suitable.
[Illustration: A Sea Holly; Eryngium.]
=Globe Thistle=, _Echinops_.—Large and distinct perennials of fine port,
from 3 feet to 6 feet high, with spiny leaves and numerous flowers in
spherical heads. These will thrive well in almost any position, and
hold their ground amid the coarsest vegetation. Being of a “type” quite
distinct from that of our indigenous vegetation, they are more than
usually suited for naturalisation. Echinops exaltatus and E. ruthenicus,
are among the best kinds, the last the best in colour.
=May–flower=, _Epigæa repens_.—A small creeping shrub, with pretty and
deliciously fragrant flowers, which appear soon after the melting
of the snow in N. America, and are there as welcome as the hawthorn
with us. In its native country it inhabits woods, mostly in the shade
of pines; and usually, wherever I saw it, it seemed to form a carpet
under three or four layers of vegetation, so to speak—that is to say,
it was beneath pines, medium–sized trees, tall bushes, and dwarf scrub
about 18 in. high, while the plant itself was not more than one or two
inches high. In our gardens this plant is very rarely seen, and even
in the great American plant nurseries, where it used to grow it has
disappeared. This is no wonder, when it is considered how very different
are the conditions which it enjoys in gardens compared with those which
I have above described. Without doubt it can be naturalised easily in
pine woods on a sandy soil.
=Dog’s–tooth Violet=, _Erythronium_.—A few days ago I saw a number of
irregular clumps of these here and there on a gently sloping bank of
turf, and, in front of clumps of evergreens, they looked quite charming,
and their dark spotted leaves showed up to much better effect on the
fresh green Grass than they do in borders. They were all of the red
variety, and required a few of the white form among them to make the
picture perfect.
So writes a correspondent in Ireland. This beautiful plant, some years
ago rarely seen in our gardens, adorns many a dreary slope in the
Southern Alps, and there should be no great difficulty in the way of
adding its charms to the wild garden in peaty or sandy spots, rather
bare or under deciduous vegetation.
=The Winter Aconite=, _Eranthis hyemalis_.—Classed among British plants
but really naturalised. Its golden buttons peeping through the moss and
grass in snowdrop time form one of the prettiest aspects of our garden
vegetation in spring. It will grow anywhere, and is one of the plants
that thrive under the spreading branches of summer–leafing trees, as
it blooms and perfects its leaves before the buds open on the beech.
On many lawns, spring gardens might be formed by planting some spring
flowering plants that finish their growth before the trees are in
leaf. Another advantage of such positions is, that the foliage of the
tree prevents any coarser plants taking possession of the ground, and
therefore these little spring plants have the ground to themselves,
and wander into natural little groups in the moss and grass, sometimes
covering the surface with a sheet of blossoms.
=Funkia.=—I have spoken of the conditions in the wild garden being more
suitable to many plants than those which obtain in what might seem
choice positions in borders, many of the plants attaining greater beauty
and remaining longer in bloom in the shade and shelter of shrubby places
than when fully exposed. As an instance of this, I saw Funkia cœrulea
the other day, showing a size and beauty in a shady drive at Beauport,
near Battle, which I never saw it attain under other circumstances.
The plant was over a yard high, and bore many stately stems hung with
blue flowers. The Funkias are exceedingly valuable plants for the wild
garden, not being liable to accidents which are fatal to Lilies and
other plants exposed to the attacks of slugs and rabbits.
[Illustration: Groups of Funkia Sieboldi.]
=Snakes–head=, _Fritillaria_.—The beautiful British snakes–head (F.
Meleagris) grows wild, as most people know, in meadows in various parts
of England, and we should like to see it as well established in the
grassy hollows of many a country seat. Various other Fritillarias not
so pretty as this, and of a peculiar livid dark hue, which is not like
to make them popular in gardens, such as F. tristis, would be worthy of
a position also; while the Crown Imperial would do on the fringes of
shrubberies.
=Giant Fennel=, _Ferula_.—Noble herbaceous plants belonging to the
parsley order, with much and exquisitely divided leaves; when well
developed forming magnificent tufts of verdure, reminding one of the
most finely–cut ferns, but far larger. The leaves appear very early in
spring, and disappear at the end of summer, and the best use that can be
made of the plants is to plant them here and there in places occupied
by spring and early summer flowers, among which they would produce a
very fine effect. With the Ferulas might be grouped another handsome
umbelliferous plant (Molopospermum cicutarium); and no doubt, when we
know the ornamental qualities of the order better, we shall find sundry
other charming plants of similar character.
=Ferns.=—No plants may be naturalised more successfully and with a
more charming effect than ferns. The royal ferns, of which the bold
foliage is reflected in the marsh waters of Northern America, will do
well in the many places where our own royal fern thrives. The graceful
maidenhair fern of the rich woods of the Eastern States and the Canadas
will thrive perfectly in any cool, shady, narrow lane, or dyke, or in a
shady wood. The small ferns that find a home on arid alpine cliffs may
be established on old walls and ruins. Cheilanthes odora, which grows
so freely on the sunny sides of walls in Southern France, would be well
worth trying in similar positions in the south of England, the spores
to be sown in mossy chinks of the walls. The climbing fern Lygodium
palmatum, which goes as far north as cold Massachusetts, would twine
its graceful stems up the undershrubs in an English wood too. In fact,
there is no fern of the numbers that inhabit the northern regions of
Europe, Asia, and America, that may not be tried with confidence in
various positions, preferring for the greater number such positions as
we know our native kinds to thrive best in. One could form a rich and
stately type of wood–haunting fern vegetation without employing one
of our native kinds at all, though, of course, generally the best way
will be to associate all so far as their habits and sizes will permit.
Treat them boldly; put strong kinds out in glades; imagine colonies of
Daffodils among the Oak and Beech Ferns, fringed by early Aconite, in
the spots overshadowed by the branches of deciduous trees. Then, again,
many of these Ferns, the more delicate of them, could be used as the
most graceful of carpets for bold beds or groups of flowering plants.
They would form part, and a very important part, of what we have written
of as evergreen herbaceous plants, and might well be associated with
them in true winter gardens.
[Illustration: A hardy Geranium.]
=Geranium=, _Geranium_, _Erodium_.—Handsome and rather dwarf
perennials, mostly with bluish, pinkish, or deep rose flowers, admirable
for naturalisation. Some of the better kinds of the hardy geraniums,
such as G. ibericum, are the very plants to take care of themselves on
wild banks and similar places. With them might be associated the fine
Erodium Manescavi; and where there are very bare places, on which they
would not be overrun by coarser plants, the smaller Erodiums, such as E.
romanum, might be tried with advantage.
=Goat’s Rue=, _Galega_.—Tall and vigorous but graceful perennials, with
very numerous and handsome flowers, pink, blue, or white. G. officinalis
and its white variety are among the very best of all tall border
flowers, and they are equally useful for planting in rough and wild
places, as is also the blue G. orientalis and G. biloba. They are all
free growers.
[Illustration: Snowdrops, wild, by streamlet in valley.]
=Gypsophila=, _Gypsophila and Tunica_.—Vigorous but neat perennials,
very hardy, and producing myriads of flowers, mostly small, and of a
pale pinkish hue. They are best suited for rocky or sandy ground, or
even old ruins, or any position where they will not be smothered by
coarser vegetation. Similar in character is the pretty little Tunica
saxifraga, which grows on the tops of old walls, etc., in Southern
Europe, and will thrive on bare places on the level ground with us.
=Gentian=, _Gentiana_.—Dwarf, and usually evergreen, alpine or
high–pasture plants, with large and numerous flowers, mostly handsome,
and frequently of the most vivid and beautiful blue. The large G.
acaulis (Gentianella) would grow as freely in moist places on any of
our own mountains as it does on its native hills; as, indeed, it would
in all moist loams, where it could not be choked by coarse and taller
subjects. The tall willow Gentian (G. asclepiadea) is a handsome plant,
which, in the mountain woods of Switzerland, may be seen blooming among
long grass in shade of trees, and this fact is suggestive as to its use
in this country.
=Snowdrops=, _Galanthus_.—The charms of our own Snowdrop when
naturalised in the grass are well known to all, but many of the new
kinds have claims also in that respect, such as Elwesi and G. plicatus.
It is surprising how comparatively few people take advantage of the
facility with which the Snowdrop grows in grass, so as to have it in
pretty groups and colonies by grass–walks or drives. The accompanying
illustration, which shows it on the margin of a streamlet in a
Somersetshire valley, shows that it is not particular as to situation.
It suggests the many places it may adorn other than the garden border.
=Cow Parsnips=, _Heracleum_.—Giant herbaceous plants, mostly from
Northern Asia, with huge divided leaves, and umbels (sometimes a foot
across) of white or whitish flowers. They are very suitable for rough
places on the banks of rivers or artificial water, islands, or in any
position in which a very vigorous and bold type of foliage may be
desired. In arranging them it should be borne in mind that their foliage
dies down and disappears in the end of summer. When established they
sow themselves, so that seedling plants in abundance may be picked up
around them. In all cases it is important that their seed should be
sown immediately after being gathered. But it is also important not to
allow them to monopolise the ground, as then they become objectionable.
To this end it may, in certain positions, be desirable to prevent them
seeding.
=Day Lily=, _Hemerocallis_.—Vigorous plants of the lily order, with long
leaves and graceful habit, and large and showy red–orange or yellow
flowers, sometimes scented as delicately as the primrose. There are two
types, one large and strong like flava and fulva, the other short and
somewhat fragile like graminea. The larger kinds are superb plants for
naturalisation, growing in any soil, and taking care of themselves among
coarse herbaceous plants or brambles.
=Christmas Rose=, _Helleborus_.—Stout but dwarf perennials, with showy
blooms appearing in winter and spring when flowers are rare, and with
handsome leathery and glossy leaves. They thrive in almost any position
or soil; but to get the full benefit of their early–blooming tendency it
is desirable to place them on sunny grassy banks in tufts or groups, and
not far from the eye, as they are usually of unobtrusive colours. They
form beautiful ornaments near wild wood walks, where the spring sun can
reach them. There are various kinds useful for naturalisation.
[Illustration: Sun Rose on limestone rocks.]
=Sun Rose=, _Helianthemum_.—Dwarf spreading shrubs, bearing myriads
of flowers in a variety of showy colours. The most tasteful and
satisfactory way of employing these in our gardens is to naturalise
them on banks or slopes in the half–wild parts of our pleasure–grounds,
mostly in sandy or warm soil. They are best suited for chalk districts
or rocky ones, where they thrive most luxuriantly, and make a very
brilliant display. There are many varieties, mostly differing in the hue
of the flowers.
=Perennial Sunflower=, _Helianthus_, _Rudbeckia_, _Silphium_.—Stout
and usually very tall perennials, with showy yellow flowers, the best
known of which is Helianthus multiflorus fl. pl., of which plenty
may be seen in Euston Square and other places in London. As a rule
these are all better fitted for rough places than for gardens, where,
like many other plants mentioned in these pages, they will tend to
form a vigorous herbaceous covert. H. rigidus is a brilliantly showy
plant, running very freely at the root, and an excellent subject for
naturalisation. H. giganteus, common in thickets and swamps in America,
and growing as high as 10 ft., is also desirable. The showy and larger
American Rudbeckias, such as laciniata, triloba, and also the small
but showy hirta, virtually belong to the same type. All these plants,
and many others of the tall yellow–flowered composites that one sees
conspicuous among herbaceous vegetation in America, would produce very
showy effects in autumn, and might perhaps more particularly interest
those who only visit their country seats at that time of year. The
Silphiums, especially the compass plant (S. laciniatum), and the cup
plant (S. perfoliatum), are allied in general aspect and character to
the Helianthuses, and are suitable for the same purposes.
=St. John’s Wort=, _Hypericum_.—The well–known St. John’s wort has
already in many places made good its claim as a wilderness plant, and
there is scarcely one of its numerous congeners which will not thrive in
wild and rough places, in any soil. They have all the same bright yellow
flowers as the St. John’s wort, and are nearly all taller. Some of the
newer kinds have the handsome large flowers of the St. John’s Wort. It
should be noted that the common St. John’s Wort so exhausts the soil
of moisture that it may be the cause of the death of trees, and should
therefore be looked after. Many places have too much of it, as they have
of the common Laurel.
=Rocket=, _Hesperis_.—The common single Rocket (Hesperis matronalis) is
a showy useful plant in copse or shrubbery, and very easily raised from
seed.
=Evergreen Candytuft=, _Iberis_.—Compact little evergreens, forming
spreading bushes from 3 inches to 15 inches high, and sheeted with white
flowers in spring and early summer. There are no plants more suitable
for naturalisation in open or bare places, or, indeed, in any position
where the vegetation is not strong enough to overrun them. They,
however, attain greatest perfection when fully exposed to the sun, and
are admirable for every kind of rocky or stony ground and banks.
=Iris=, _Fleur de Lis_.—These plants, once so well known in our gardens,
rivalling (or rather exceeding) the lilies in beauty, are varied and
numerous enough to make a wild garden by themselves. The many beautiful
varieties of germanica will grow in almost any soil, and may be used
with good effect in woods, copses, by wood walks, or near the margin
of water. I. sibirica, rather a common kind, will grow in the water;
and, as this is not generally known, it is worthy the notice of any
one taking an interest in aquatics. It is probable that others of the
beardless kinds will also do well with their roots below the water, and
if so, they will one day much improve the rather poorly adorned margins
of artificial waters. On the other hand, I. pumila, and the varieties of
germanica, are often seen on the tops of old walls, on thatched roofs,
etc., on the Continent, flowering profusely. These facts tend to show
how many different positions may be adorned by the irises.
[Illustration]
=Common Lupine=, _Lupinus polyphyllus_.—Amidst the tallest and
handsomest herbaceous plants, grouped where they may be seen from grass
drives or wood walks, or in any position or soil. Excellent for islets
or river banks, in which, or in copses, it spreads freely. There are
several varieties, all worthy of culture.
=Honesty=, _Lunaria_.—This, which approaches the Stocks in the aspect
of its fine purplish violet flowers, is quite removed from them by the
appearance of its curious seed–vessels. It is one of the most valuable
of all plants for naturalisation, and may be said to form a type by
itself. It shows itself freely in dryish ground or on chalk banks, and
is one of the prettiest objects to be met with in early summer in wood
or wild.
=Lily=, _Lilium_.—There are many hardy lilies that may be naturalised.
The situations that these grow in, from the high meadows of Northern
Italy, dotted with the orange lily, to the woody gorges of the Sierras
in California, rich with tall and fragrant kinds, are such as make
their culture in copses, woods, rough grassy places, etc., a certainty.
In woods where there is a rich deposit of vegetable matter the great
American Lilium superbum, and no doubt some of the recently–discovered
Californian lilies, will do well. The European lilies, dotted in the
grass in the rough unmown glades, would not grow nearly so large as they
do in the rich borders of our cottage gardens; but the effect of the
single large blooms of the orange lily just level with the tops of the
grass, in early summer, where it grows wild, is at least as beautiful as
any aspect it has hitherto presented in gardens. Along the bed of small
rivulets, in the bottom of narrow gorges densely shaded by great Thujas,
Arbutus trees sixty and even eighty feet high, and handsome large–leaved
evergreen oaks on the Sierras, I saw in autumn numbers of lily stems
seven, eight, and nine feet high, so one could imagine what pictures
they formed in early summer; therefore deep dykes and narrow shady
lanes would afford congenial homes for various fine species. No mode of
cultivating lilies in gardens is equal to that of dotting them through
beds of rhododendrons and other American plants usually planted in peat;
the soil of these, usually and very unwisely left to the rhododendrons
alone, being peculiarly suited to the majority of the lily tribe. As for
the wild garden, Mr. G. F. Wilson sent me a stem of Lilium superbum last
year (1880) grown in a rich woody bottom, 11½ feet high!
=Snowflake=, _Leucojum_.—I have rarely seen anything more beautiful
than a colony of the summer Snowflake on the margin of a tuft of
rhododendrons in the gardens at Longleat. Some of the flowers were on
stems nearly 3 feet high, the partial shelter of the bushes and good
soil causing the plants to be unusually vigorous. Both the spring and
summer Snowflakes (L. vernum and L. æstivum) are valuable plants for
wild grassy places.
=Gentian Lithosperm=, _Lithospermum prostratum_.—A very distinct,
prostrate, hairy, half–shrubby plant, with a profusion of flowers of as
fine a blue as any gentian. Thrives vigorously in any deep sandy soil,
and in such well deserves naturalisation among low rock plants, etc.,
in sunny positions. Probably other species of the genus will be found
suitable for the same purpose.
=Lychnis.=—Handsome medium–sized perennials, with showy blooms, mostly
of a brilliant rose or scarlet colour. If the type was only represented
by the rose campion it would be a valuable one. This is a beautiful
object in dry soils, on which it does not perish in winter. They are
most fitted for association with dwarf or medium–sized perennials, in
open places and in rich soil.
=Honeysuckle=, _Lonicera_.—Such favourites as these must not be omitted.
Any kind of climbing Honeysuckle will find a happy home in the wild
garden, either rambling over stumps or hedgerows, or even planted by
themselves on banks.
=Pea=, _Lathyrus_.—Much having been lately written concerning the
wild garden and its suitable occupants, I venture to suggest Lathyrus
pyrenaicus as an addition to the list. Most cultivators of flowers are
aware of the rambling habits of the greater number of plants of the
Leguminous tribe, but in that particular L. pyrenaicus eclipses them
all. It produces an immense quantity of bright orange–coloured blossoms,
but the principal difficulty connected with its thorough development is
the selection of an appropriate place for it, for a well–established
plant of this species will ramble over, and by its density of growth
prevent every plant and shrub that comes within its reach from thriving;
indeed, it is a greater rambler than the Hop, the Bindweed, or the
Bryony, and is decidedly more handsome. Tying up or training such a
plant is out of the question; but there are many rough places in the
wild garden where it would be quite at home and form an attractive
feature. Every kind of Everlasting Pea is excellent for the wild garden,
either for scrambling over hedgerows, stumps, or growing among the
grass.—J. W.
[Illustration: Everlasting Pea, creeping up stem in shrubbery.]
=Monkey–flower=, _Mimulus_.—“Wandering one day in the neighbourhood
of “Gruigfoot,” a queer–shaped hill in Linlithgowshire, my eye was
attracted by a small burn whose banks were literally jewelled throughout
its visible course with an unfamiliar yellow flower. A nearer approach
showed me that it was the garden Mimulus (Monkey–flower), the seed of
which must have escaped from some neighbouring cottage garden, and
established itself here, in the coldest part of the British Isles.
I took the hint, and have naturalised it by the banks of a small
stream which runs at the foot of my garden, and I strongly recommend
your readers to do the same. It mingles charmingly with the blue
Forget–me–not, and is equally hardy.”—S. in _Garden_.
=Grape Hyacinth=, _Muscari_.—These free and hardy little bulbs are
easily naturalised and very handsome, with their little spikes of
flowers of many shades of blue.
=Forget–me–not=, _Myosotis_.—There is one exotic species, M.
dissitiflora, not inferior in beauty to any of our handsomest native
kinds, and which is well worthy of naturalisation everywhere, thriving
best on moist and sandy soil.
[Illustration: Type of fine–leaved umbellate plants seldom grown in
gardens.]
=Molopospermum cicutarium.=—There is a deep green and fern–like beauty
displayed profusely by some of the Umbelliferous family, but I have
rarely met with one so remarkably attractive as this species. It is a
very ornamental plant, with large, deeply–divided leaves of a lively
green colour, forming a dense irregular bush. The flowers, which are
insignificant and of a yellowish–white colour, are borne in small
roundish umbels. Many of the class, while very elegant, perish quickly,
get shabby indeed by the end of June, and are therefore out of place in
the flower garden; but this is firm in character, of a fine rich green,
stout yet spreading in habit, growing more than 3 feet high, and making
altogether a most pleasing bush. It is perfectly hardy, and easily
increased by seed or division, but rare as yet. It loves a deep moist
soil, but will thrive in any good garden soil. It is a fine subject for
isolation or grouping with other hardy and graceful–leaved Umbelliferous
plants.
=Stock=, _Matthiola_.—Showy flowers, mostly fragrant, peculiarly well
suited for old ruins, chalk pits, stony banks, etc. Some of the annual
kinds are pretty, and some of the varieties common in gardens assume a
bush–like character when grown in the positions above named. With the
Stocks may be associated the single rocket (Hesperis matronalis), which
thrives freely in shrubberies and copses.
=Bee Balm=, _Monarda_.—Large and very showy herbaceous plants, with
scarlet or purple flowers, conspicuously beautiful in American and
Canadian woods, and capital subjects for naturalisation in woods,
copses, etc., or anywhere among medium–sized vegetation, thriving best
in light or well–drained soils.
[Illustration: The Bee Balm, Monarda.
American wood plant.]
=Mallow=, _Malva_, _Althœa_, _Malope_, _Kitaibelia_, _Callirhoe_,
_Sida_.—Plants of several distinct genera may be included under this
type, and from each very showy and useful things may be obtained. They
are for the most part subjects which are somewhat too coarse, when
closely examined, to be planted in gardens generally; but among the
taller vegetation in wild shrubberies, copses, glades in woods, etc.,
they will furnish a magnificent effect. Some of the Malvas are very
showy, vigorous–growing plants, mostly with rosy flowers, and would
associate well with our own handsome M. moschata. The Althæas, close
allies of the common single hollyhock, are very vigorous and fine for
this purpose, as are also the Sidas and Kitaibelia vitifolia. The
Malopes are among the best of the annual subjects for naturalisation.
The Callirhoes are dwarf, handsome trailers, more brilliant than the
others, and the only ones of the type that should be planted on bare
banks or amidst dwarf vegetation, as all the others are of the most
rampant character.
=Mulgedium Plumieri.=—A herbaceous plant of fine and distinct port,
bearing purplish–blue blossoms, rather uncommon among its kind.
Till recently it was generally only seen in botanic gardens, but
it has, nevertheless, many merits as a wild garden plant, and for
growing in small groups or single specimens in quiet green corners of
pleasure–grounds or shrubberies. It does best in rather rich ground, and
in such a position will reward all who plant it, being a really hardy
and long–lived perennial. The foliage is sometimes over a yard long, and
the flower–stems attain a height of over six feet in good soil.
=Water Lily=, _Nymphœa and Nuphar_.—Two noble North American plants well
deserve naturalisation in our waters, associated with our own beautiful
white and yellow water lilies—the large Nuphar advena, which thrusts its
great leaves well out of the water in many parts of North America, and
the sweet–scented Nymphæa odorata, which floats in crowds on many of
the pine–bordered lakes and lakelets of New England, to a non–botanical
observer seeming very like our own water lily.
=Daffodil=, _Narcissus_.—Most people have seen the common daffodil in a
semi–wild state in our woods and copses. Apart from varieties, there are
more than a score distinct species of daffodil that could be naturalised
quite as easily as this in all parts of these islands. We need hardly
suggest how charming these would be, flowering in early spring and
summer in the rougher parts of pleasure grounds, or along wood–walks, or
any like position.
=Bitter Vetch=, _Orobus_.—Banks, grassy unmown margins of wood–walks,
rocks, fringes of shrubberies, and like places, with deep and sandy
loam, well drained, will grow the beautiful spring Bitter Vetch or any
of its varieties or allies perfectly.
=Evening Primrose=, _Enothera_.—Among the largest–flowered and
handsomest of all known types of herbaceous vegetation. The yellow
species, and varieties like and allied to the common Evening Primrose
(Œ. biennis), may be readily naturalised in any position, from a
rubbish–heap to a nice, open, sunny copse; while such prostrate ones as
Œ. marginata and Œ. macrocarpa will prove very fine among dwarf herbs on
banks or in open sunny places, in light or calcareous soil. These noble
and delicately–scented flowers are very easily grown and very beautiful
in any position. They, however, from their height and boldness, and the
freedom with which they grow in almost any soil, are peculiarly suited
for the wild garden, for shrubberies, copses, and the like, sowing
themselves freely.
=Cotton Thistle=, _Onopordon_.—Large thistles, with very handsome hoary
and silvery leaves, and purplish flowers on fiercely–armed stems. No
plants are more noble in port than these, and they thrive freely in
rough open places, rubbish–heaps, etc., and usually come up freely from
self–sown seeds.
=Star of Bethlehem=, _Ornithogalum_.—Various handsome hardy species of
this genus will thrive as well as the common Star of Bethlehem in any
sunny, grassy places.
=Creeping Forget–me–not=, _Omphalodes_.—The creeping Forget–me–not,
Omphalodes verna, is one of the prettiest plants to be naturalised in
woods, copses, or shrubberies, running about with the greatest freedom
in moist soil. It is more compact in habit and lives longer on good
soils than the Forget–me–nots, and should be naturalised round every
country place.
=Wood Sorrel=, _Oxalis_.—Dwarf plants with clover–like leaflets
and pretty rosy or yellow flowers. At least two of the species in
cultivation, viz. O. Bowieana and O. floribunda, might be naturalised on
sandy soils amidst vegetation not more than 5 inches or 6 inches high;
and the family is so numerous that probably other members of it will be
found equally free growing.
[Illustration: The Great Japan Knotweed (Polygonum cuspidatum).
(Showing the plant in flower.)]
=Polygonum cuspidatum.=—If, instead of the formal character of much of
our gardening, plants of bold types similar to the above were introduced
along the sides of woodland walks and shrubbery borders, how much more
enjoyable such places would be, as at almost every step there would be
something fresh to attract notice and gratify the eye, instead of which
such parts are generally bare, or given up to weeds and monotonous
rubbish.
=Pæony.=—Vigorous herbaceous plants, with large and splendid flowers
of various shades of crimson, rosy–crimson, and white, well calculated
for producing the finest effects in the wild garden. There are many
species and varieties, the flowers of some of the varieties being
very sweet–scented, double, and among the largest flowers we know of.
Fringes of shrubberies, open glades in woods or copses, and indeed
almost any wild place, may be adorned by them; and they may also be
advantageously grouped or isolated on the grass in the rougher parts
of the pleasure–ground. I never felt the beauty of the fine colour of
Pæonies till I saw a group of the double scarlet kind flowering in the
long Grass in Oxfordshire. The owner had placed an irregular group of
this plant in an unmown glade, quite away from the garden proper; and
yet, seen from the lawn and garden, the effect was most brilliant, as
may be imagined from the way in which such high colours tell in the
distance. To be able to produce such effects in the early summer for six
weeks or so is a great gain from a landscape point of view, apart from
the immediate beauty of the flowers when seen close at hand.
[Illustration:
Phlomis.—Type of handsome Labiates; admirably suited for the wild
garden. (See p. 154.)]
=Poppy=, _Papaver_, _in var._—The huge and flaming Papaver orientale, P.
bracteatum, and P. lateritium, are the most important of this type. They
will thrive and live long in almost any position, but the proper place
for them is in open spots among strong herbaceous plants. For the wild
garden or wilderness the Welsh Poppy (Meconopsis cambrica) is one of the
best plants. It is a cheerful plant at all seasons; perched on some old
dry wall its masses of foliage are very fresh, but when loaded with a
profusion of large yellow blossoms the plant is strikingly handsome; it
is a determined coloniser, ready to hold its own under the most adverse
circumstances. Its home is the wall, the rock, and the ruin. It even
surpasses the Wallflower in adapting itself to strange out–of–the–way
places; it will spring up in the gravel walk under one’s feet, and
seems quite happy among the boulders in the courtyard. It looks down on
one from crevices in brick walls, from chinks where one could scarcely
introduce a knife–blade, and after all it delights most in shady places.
No plant can be better adapted for naturalising on rough stony banks,
old quarries, gravel pits, dead walls, and similar places, and its
large handsome flowers will lend a charm to the most uninteresting
situations.
=Phlomis.=—Showy and stately herbaceous or half–shrubby plants, with
a profusion of handsome yellow or purplish flowers. Excellent for
naturalisation in warm open woods, copses, banks, etc., growing well in
ordinary soil.
[Illustration: The tall Ox–eye Daisy
(Pyrethrum serotinum).]
=Virginian Poke=, _Phytolacca decandra_.—A tall, robust perennial,
within conspicuous flowers and long dense spikes of purplish berries. It
will grow anywhere and in any soil; but is most imposing in rich deep
ones. The berries are relished by birds. It is fine for association with
the largest and stoutest herbaceous plants in rough and half–wild places.
=Physostegia.=—Tall, erect, and beautiful herbaceous plants, mostly
with delicate rosy flowers; natives of North America, thriving in any
soil. They are among the most pleasing things for planting in half–wild
places, where they will not spread rampantly, nor perish quickly.
=Lungwort=, _Pulmonaria_.—Dwarf plants of the borage family, with showy
blue or pinkish blossoms. Easily naturalised in woods or copses, in
which position the common blue one must be familiar to many in the woods
of England and France. The varieties are common in cottage gardens; they
grow in any soil.
=The tall Ox–eye daisy=, _Pyrethrum serotinum_.—This fine autumn
flowering plant, for years left in the almost exclusive possession of
the Botanic Gardens, is one of the handsomest things we have. It grows 5
or 6 feet high, and flowers late in the year, when flowers are scarce.
It is very picturesque in habit.
=Bramble=, _Rubus_.—Although we have nearly fifty kinds or reputed kinds
of bramble native in Britain, some of the exotic species, entirely
distinct from our own, are well worthy of naturalisation among low
shrubs and tall herbaceous plants. One of the most charming plants
we know for naturalising in shady woods is the large, white–flowered
Rubus Nutkanus, with which might be tastefully associated the deep
rose–coloured Rubus odoratus, and the early spring–flowering R.
spectabilis; while the very striking white–stemmed R. biflorus is a
grand object for warm slopes, sunny sides of chalk and gravel pits, etc.
=The Great Reed=; _Arundo Donax_.—This noble reed I do not like to omit
here, it is so beautiful in the southern counties of England, though in
cold soils and hard winters it may perish. Where the hardier Bamboos
find a place this will be welcome, though in our country it is only in
the warmer parts that it attains the dignity of port it possesses in the
south of Europe.
[Illustration: The Great Reed of Southern Europe
(Arundo Donax).]
=Rhubarb=, _Rheum_.—There are several species of rhubarb in cultivation
in addition to those commonly grown in gardens. They are much alike
in port and in the size of their leaves, R. palmatum and Emodi being
the most distinct. The rhubarbs are fine things for association with
large–leaved herbaceous plants in deep soils.
=Rose=, _Rosa_.—As in the case of brambles, we have many more kinds of
wild roses in England than is commonly supposed, but of course nobody
ever thinks of planting such things in gardens or shrubberies, where
such gems as privet usually make up the underwood. There are scores
of the roses of northern and temperate countries which would thrive
as well in our woodlands; but as these are not to be obtained in our
nurseries, it is useless to mention them. Any species of rose from a
northern country might be tried; whilst of roses commonly cultivated the
climbing races—such as the Boursault, Ayrshire, and Sempervirens—are the
most likely to be satisfactory. The Damask, Alba gallica, and hybrid
China, being hardy and free, would do, as would Felicité Perpetuelle,
Banksiæflora, the Garland roses, Austrian briar, berberifolia, and
microphylla rubra plena. Pruning, or any other attention after planting,
should of course not be thought of in connection with these. We have
seen masses of wild roses the effect of which was finer than anything
we have ever seen in a rosery. Rosa Brunoniana is a very fine free and
hardy species from India.
=Sea Lavender=, _Statice_.—Vigorous perennials, with a profusion of
bluish lavender–coloured bloom, thriving freely on all ordinary garden
soils. S. latifolia, and some of the stronger kinds, thrive in any
position among the medium–sized herbaceous plants.
=Spiræa=, _Spiræa_.—Handsome and usually vigorous herbaceous plants,
with white or rosy flowers, and generally ornamental foliage. Such
beautiful kinds as venusta and palmata it is most desirable to try
in wild places among the stouter and medium–sized perennials, where
sufficiently plentiful to be spared for this purpose. S. Aruncus is,
perhaps, the finest plant for the wild garden. Mr. Ellam planted
out some spare stock of S. japonica in a wood at Bodorgan, and with
the happiest effect. The plants grow and flower freely, the flowers
appearing a fortnight later in the moist cool wood than on plants of the
same kind on a north garden border; therefore they prolong the season
of this favourite flower. They are planted in an irregular group, as
such things should generally be, the effect being much better than that
obtained by the common dotting plan.
=Golden Rod=, _Solidago_.—Tall and vigorous perennials with yellow
flowers, showy when in bloom, and attractive when seen in America in
autumn, mingled with the blue and lilac Asters of that country, but
rarely ornamental as grown in gardens. These, like the Asters, used to
be grown to excess in the old borders; but the only position they are
fit for is in rough wild places, where in many cases it would be easy,
with their aid and that of the Asters, to form that mixture of Golden
Rod and Michaelmas daisies which is one of the prettiest effects of
American vegetation in autumn.
=Catch–fly=, _Silene_.—Dwarf or spreading plants, allied to the pinks,
and generally with white or rosy flowers. The choice mountain kinds,
such as S. Lagascæ, alpestris, Schafta, etc., are among the most
charming subjects that can be naturalised on rocky places or banks,
associated with very dwarf subjects. Such fine annual or biennial kinds
as S. Armeria or S. pendula are among the best for this purpose, and
might be easily established by scattering a few seeds in such places.
=Bloodwort=, _Sanguinaria canadensis_.—This little plant, which abounds
in the woods of Canada and North America, and which is very rarely
indeed seen well grown in our gardens, will thrive under the branches
of deciduous trees as well as the winter aconite, and in spring will
produce an effect as beautiful as singular.
=Squill=, _Scilla_.—Several kinds of Scilla, closely allied to the
common bluebell, would do quite as well in our woods as that well–known
native plant, notably S. campanulata, S. bifolia, S. sibirica, etc.
Bifolia and sibirica would be better on sunny banks or sheltered fringes
of shrubberies with a good aspect. The tall kinds would do in woods or
copses like the bluebell. With the dwarfer squills might be associated
the grape hyacinth and the amethyst hyacinth (Hyacinthus amethystinus).
=Comfrey=, _Symphytum_.—Herbaceous plants of the borage order, usually
vigorous, and with handsome blue flowers. One of the handsomest spring
flowers is Symphytum caucasicum, and it is also one of the easiest
things to naturalise, running about with the greatest freedom in shrubby
or any wild places. Coarse kinds, like S. asperrimum (unfit for garden
culture), thrive apace among the largest plants in wild places, and
there look quite beautiful when in flower.
=Scabious=, _Scabiosa_, _Cephalaria_, _Knautia_.—Sometimes handsome and
usually free–growing herbaceous plants, bluish, purplish, or yellowish
in tone. Among these may be seen, in botanic and other gardens, plants
suited for naturalisation, but scarcely worthy of a place in the garden.
The fine S. caucasica would thrive amidst coarse vegetation in good
soil, as would the Knautias.
=Stonecrop=, _Sedum_.—Minute and usually prostrate plants, mostly with
white, yellow, or rosy flowers, and occurring in multitudes on most
of the mountain chains of northern and temperate countries. There are
few of these interesting and sometimes very pretty plants that would
not grow on the top of an old wall, or thatched house, or stony bank,
or bare ground, as well as our common Stonecrop. All grow in any soil,
are as easily increased as any weed, and grow anywhere if they are not
too much overshadowed by trees and coarse vegetation. Such kinds as S.
spurium, S. pulchellum, kamtschaticum, and S. spectabile are among the
most ornamental. The last, being a stout herbaceous plant, would be
worth associating with such in wild places. There are nearly 100 species
of stonecrop in cultivation in Britain.
=Saxifrage=, _Saxifraga_.—A very extensive genus of plants, abundantly
distributed on mountains in northern countries. For our present purpose
they may be broadly thrown into five sections—the mossy section,
represented in Britain by S. hypnoides; the silvery section, represented
by S. Aizoon; the London Pride section, by the Kerry saxifrages; the
Megasea section, by the large cabbage–leaved S. crassifolia; and the
oppositifolia section, distinguished by its rosy–purple flowers. With
the exception of the Megasea and oppositifolia sections, which have
rosy flowers, most of the saxifrages have white blossoms spotted with
red; a few are yellow, and all are very hardy, and the easiest to grow
of all alpine flowers. The mossy, silvery, and purple saxifrages may be
naturalised with the greatest ease on bare rocky or mountainous grounds,
amidst dwarf vegetation; but, as the places in which this kind of ground
occurs are comparatively few, the Megaseas, and the Kerry saxifrages,
are probably the most generally useful, as they can fight their way
amongst coarse grass and other common herbs. There are probably nearly
150 species in cultivation in the botanic gardens of England, though in
many private gardens they are very little known.
=Houseleek=, _Sempervivum_.—Very dwarf and succulent plants, with their
fleshy leaves arranged in dense rosettes, and mostly with curious but
seldom conspicuous flowers, abounding in mountainous regions, and very
hardy. The greater number of these grow quite as freely as the common
Houseleek in any arid soil, and in any position where the vegetation is
not taller than themselves, such as on bare sandy banks, gravelly heaps,
etc. There are about fifty hardy kinds in cultivation in the gardens in
this country.
=Meadow Rue=, _Thalictrum_.—Tall and vigorous herbaceous plants, mostly
without any beauty of flower when closely examined, but often affording
a pleasing distant effect when seen in masses, and hence desirable for
this mode of gardening, though seldom suitable for a position in the
garden proper. They grow in any soil, and should be placed among rank
herbs and coarse vegetation, not in the foreground, which might be
occupied by more brilliant subjects. There are many kinds not differing
much in aspect; some of the smaller ones in the way of our own British
T. minus, deserve a place among dwarf vegetation for the elegance of
their leaves. With these last may be associated the Italian Isopyrum
thalictroides, which is handsome in flower and elegant in leaf.
=Spiderwort=, _Tradescantia virginica_.—A handsome and distinct North
American perennial, with purple, blue, or white flowers, attaining a
height of 1½ feet or 2 feet. An admirable subject for naturalisation
on almost any soil, thriving perfectly on the wettest and coldest, and
therefore suited for many places where other perennials would make
little progress.
=Wood Lily=, _Trillium_.—Very singular and beautiful American wood
plants, of which T. grandiflorum is worthy of special attention,
thriving in shady places in moist rich soils, in woods and copses, where
some vegetable soil has gathered.
[Illustration: Telekia. Type of the Larger Composites excluded from
gardens proper.]
=Globe Flower=, _Trollius_.—Beautiful plants of vigorous habit, with
large handsome flowers, of a fine golden colour, like those of the
buttercups, but turning inwards so as to form an almost round blossom,
quite distinct in aspect. Few subjects are more worthy of a position
in grassy glades where the soil is rich, although they will grow in
ordinary soil. There are several distinct kinds suitable, though there
is little difference in their appearance.
=Tulip=, _Tulipa_.—Various kinds of Tulips might be naturalised with
advantage by wood walks and in the rougher parts of the pleasure
grounds. In such positions they would not attain such a size as the
richly–fed garden flowers, but that would make them none the less
attractive to those who care about the wild garden.
=Telekia=, _Telekia cordifolia_.—A vigorous herbaceous plant, suited for
association with Echinops, Rheum, and subjects grown for their foliage
and character. It is very free in growth, and has large foliage and
sunflower–like flowers.
=Flame–Flower=, _Tritoma_.—Flame Flowers are occasionally planted
in excess, so as to neutralise the good effect they might otherwise
produce, and they, like many other flowers, have suffered from
being, like soldiers, put in straight lines and in other geometrical
formations. It is only where a fine plant or group of plants is seen
in some green glade that the true beauty of the Flame Flower is
seen, especially at some little distance off. Although not exactly
belonging to the very free–growing and extremely hardy genera of plants
recommended for the wild garden, they are so free in many soils that
they might with confidence be recommended for that purpose, and our
sketch shows a picturesque group of them planted in this way. It would
be delightful if people having country seats would study more the
effects to be realised from certain types of plants. For instance, a
well and tastefully placed group of these Flame Flowers would for a long
time in autumn be a most effective feature in the landscape of a country
seat; and there are various other plants to which the same remark
applies, though perhaps to none better than these in the later months of
the year.
[Illustration: Group of Tritoma, in grass.]
=Showy Indian Cress=, _Tropæolum speciosum_.—Against terrace walls,
among shrubs, and on slopes, on banks, or bushy rockwork near the hardy
fernery; in deep, rich, and light soil. This is a brilliant plant, well
worth any trouble to establish. Many fail to establish it in the garden
proper, but moist, shady, and bushy places, will suit it better.
[Illustration: A tall Mullein.]
=Mullein=, _Verbascum_.—Verbascum vernale is a noble plant, which has
been slowly spreading in our collections of hardy plants for some years
past, and it is a plant of peculiar merit. I first saw it in the Garden
of Plants, and brought home some roots which gave rise to the stock now
in our gardens. Its peculiarities, or rather its merits, are that it is
a true perennial species—at least on the warm soils, and in this respect
quite unlike other Mulleins which are sometimes seen in our gardens, and
oftener in our hedgerows. It also has the advantage of great height,
growing, as in the specimen shown in our illustration, to a height
of about 10 feet, or even more. Then there are the large and green
leaves, which come up rather early and are extremely effective. Finally,
the colour is good and the quantity of yellow flowers with purplish
filaments that are borne on one of these great branching panicles is
something enormous. The use of such a plant cannot be difficult to
define, it being so good in form and so distinct in habit. For the back
part of a mixed border, for grouping with other plants of remarkable
size or form of foliage, or for placing here and there in open spaces
among shrubs, it is well suited. A bold group of it, arranged on the
Grass by itself, in deep, light, and well–dressed soil, would be
effective in a picturesque garden. It is also known in gardens by the
name of Verbascum Chaixii, which name, we believe, was given to it at
Kew.
=Periwinkle=, _Vinca_.—Trailing plants, with glossy foliage and handsome
blue flowers, well known in gardens. They are admirable plants for
naturalisation, growing in any position, shady or sunny. There are
variously–coloured and very pretty varieties of V. minor, while the
variegated forms of both species are handsome, and may be naturalised
like the green kinds.
=Speedwell=, _Veronica_.—Herbaceous plants, usually rather tall (1½ feet
to 3 feet), in some cases dwarf and neat alpine plants with blue flowers
in various shades; are among the hardiest of plants, and will grow in
any soil. All the taller kinds are admirably suited for naturalisation
among long grass and other herbaceous vegetation. A great number that
are in cultivation in borders are only fit for this purpose. The dwarf
kinds are equally suitable for bare places, or among other dwarf plants.
=Violet=, _Viola_.—A numerous race of dwarf and interesting plants,
thriving freely in our climate, in half–shady places, rocky spots or
banks, fringes of shrubberies, or almost any position. The very handsome
bird’s–foot violet of N. America (V. pedata) would thrive in sandy
level places or on rocky banks. In this family occur a good many kinds,
such as V. canadensis, which, not being fragrant, or not possessing
sufficient charms to ensure their general cultivation in gardens, are
peculiarly suited for this sort of gardening. Our own sweet violet
should be abundantly naturalised wherever it does not occur in a wild
state.
=Adam’s–Needle=, _Yucca_.—Although these scarcely come into this
selection, yet their fine habit and their hardiness give them a charm
for us even in a wild garden. A legitimate aim, on the part of any
one carrying out this to any extent, would be to try and develop a
sub–tropical aspect of vegetation in certain places. In such a case
the Yuccas could not be dispensed with. The free–flowering kinds (Y.
flaccida and Y. filamentosa) should not be omitted, as they are more
likely to spread and increase than the larger ones; all such plants are
better held together in groups.
CHAPTER XV.
SELECTIONS OF HARDY EXOTIC PLANTS FOR VARIOUS POSITIONS IN THE WILD
GARDEN.
[Illustration: Ophrys in grass.]
As it is desirable to know how to procure as well as how to select the
best kinds, a few words on the first subject may not be amiss here.
A very important point is the getting of a stock of plants to begin
with. In country or other places where many good old border flowers
remain in the cottage gardens, many species may be collected therein.
A series of nursery beds should be formed in some by–place in which
such subjects could be increased to any desired degree. Free–growing
spring–flowers like Aubrietia, Alyssum, and Iberis, may be multiplied
to any extent by division or cuttings. Numbers of kinds may be raised
from seed sown rather thinly in drills, in nursery beds in the open
air. The catalogues should be searched every Spring for suitable
subjects. The best time for sowing is the Spring, but any time during
the Summer will do. Many perennials and bulbs must be bought in
nurseries and increased as well as may be in nursery beds. As to soil,
etc., the best way is to avoid the trouble of preparing it except for
specially interesting plants. The great point is to adapt the plant to
the soil—in peaty places to place plants that thrive in peat, in clay
soils those that thrive in clays, and so on. Among coarse vegetation
the best way is to dig the ground deeply before planting, so as to
allow the planted subjects to become well established. The ground is
so dried, and exhausted and impoverished in some woodland places with
coarse weeds, that so much preparation is necessary.
_A selection of Plants for Naturalisation in places devoid of any but
dwarf vegetation, on bare banks, etc., and in poorish soil._
Dielytra eximia.
” formosa.
Cheiranthus alpinus.
Arabis albida.
Aubrietia, in var.
Alyssum saxatile.
Odontarrhena carsinum.
Iberis corifolia.
” sempervirens.
” correæfolia.
Thlaspi latifolium.
Æthionema coridifolium.
Helianthemum, in var.
Viola cornuta.
” cucullata.
Gypsophila repens.
Tunica Saxifraga.
Saponaria ocymoides.
Silene alpestris.
” Schafta.
Cerastium Biebersteinii.
” grandiflorum.
” tomentosum.
Linum alpinum.
” arboreum.
” flavum.
Geranium Wallichianum.
” striatum.
” cinereum, and others.
Oxalis floribunda.
Genista sagittalis.
Anthyllis montana.
Astragalus monspessulanus.
Coronilla varia.
Hedysarum obscurum.
Vicia argentea.
Orobus vernus.
” lathyroides.
Waldsteinia trifolia.
Potentilla calabra.
Œnothera speciosa.
” missouriensis.
” taraxacifolia.
Sedum dentatum.
” kamtschaticum.
” Sieboldii.
” spectabile.
” spurium.
Sempervivum calcareum.
” hirtum.
” montanum.
” soboliferum.
” sedoides.
Saxifraga Aizoon.
” cordifolia.
” crassifolia.
” crustata.
” longifolia.
” Cotyledon.
” rosularis.
Astrantia major.
Dondia Epipactis.
Athamanta Matthioli.
Cornus canadensis.
Scabiosa caucasica.
Hieracium aurantiacum.
Doronicum caucasicum.
Aster alpinus.
Tussilago fragrans.
Achillea aurea.
Symphyandra pendula.
Campanula carpatica.
” fragilis.
” garganica.
” cæspitosa.
Gaultheria procumbens.
Vinca herbacea.
Gentiana acaulis.
Phlox stolonifera.
” subulata.
Lithospermum prostratum.
Pulmonaria grandiflora.
” mollis.
Myosotis dissitiflora.
Physalis Alkekengi.
Pentstemon procerus.
Veronica austriaca.
” candida.
” taurica.
Teucrium Chamædrys.
Ajuga genevensis.
Scutellaria alpina.
Prunella grandiflora.
Stachys lanata.
Zietenia lavandulæfolia.
Dodecatheon Meadia.
Acantholimon glumaceum.
Armeria cephalotes.
Plumbago Larpentæ.
Polygonum Brunonis.
” vaccinifolium.
Euphorbia Cyparissias.
Iris cristata.
“ graminea.
“ pumila.
“ reticulata.
“ nudicaulis.
_Plants of vigorous habit for the Wild Garden._
Trollius altaicus.
” napellifolius, or any other kind.
Thalictrum aquilegifolium.
Delphinium, in var.
Aconitum, in var.
Pæonia, in great var.
Papaver orientale.
” bracteatum.
Macleya cordata.
Datisca cannabina.
Crambe cordifolia.
Althæa ficifolia.
” nudiflora.
” taurinensis.
Lavate a Olbia.
Galega officinalis.
” biloba.
Lathyrus latifolius.
” grandiflorus, and any others.
Lupinus polyphyllus.
Thermopsis barbata.
Spiræa Aruncus.
Astilbe rivularis.
” rubra.
Molopospermum cicutarium.
Ferula communis.
” glauca.
” tingitana.
” sulcata.
Statice latifolia.
Peucedanum involucratum.
” longifolium.
Heracleum flavescens.
” giganteum.
Dipsacus laciniatus.
Mulgedium Plumieri.
Alfredia cernua.
Onopordon tauricum.
Centaurea babylonica.
Echinops bannaticus.
” exaltatus.
” ruthenicus.
” purpureus.
Aster elegans.
” Novi Belgii.
” Novæ Angliæ.
” pyrenæus.
” ericoides, and any other good kinds.
Eupatorium purpureum.
Telekia cordifolia.
Helianthus angustifolius.
” multiflorus.
” orgyalis.
Harpalium rigidum.
Silphium perfoliatum.
Campanula, all the tall and strong growing kinds.
Asclepias Cornuti.
” Douglasii.
Verbascum Chaixii.
Physostegia imbricata.
” speciosa.
Acanthus latifolius.
” spinosus.
” spinosissimus.
Phytolacca decandra.
Polygonum Sieboldii.
Rheum Emodi.
” palmatum.
Achillea Eupatorium.
Bambusa falcata.
Veratrum album.
Yucca filamentosa.
” flaccida.
” recurva.
” gloriosa.
Peucedanum ruthenicum.
Astragalus ponticus.
_Hardy Plants with fine foliage or graceful habit suitable for
Naturalisation._
Acanthus, several species.
Asclepias syriaca.
Statice latifolia.
Polygonum cuspidatum.
” sachalinense.
Rheum Emodi, and other kinds.
Euphorbia Cyparissias.
Datisca cannabina.
Veratrum album.
Crambe cordifolia.
Althæa taurinensis.
Elymus arenarius.
Bambusa, several species.
Arundinaria falcata.
Yucca, several species.
Verbascum Chaixii.
Spiræa Aruncus.
Astilbe rivularis.
” rubra.
Eryngium, several species.
Ferula, several species.
Phytolacca decandra.
Centaurea babylonica.
Actæa, in var.
Cimicifuga racemosa.
Peucedanum ruthenicum.
Heracleum, several species.
Aralia japonica.
” edulis.
Macleaya cordata.
Panicum bulbosum.
” virgatum.
Dipsacus laciniatus.
Alfredia cernua.
Carlina acanthifolia.
Telekia cordifolia.
Echinops exaltatus.
” ruthenicus.
Helianthus orgyalis.
” multiflorus, and vars.
Silybum eburneum.
” Marianum.
Onopordon Acanthium.
” arabicum.
_Plants for Hedge–banks and like Places._
Clematis in great var.
Thalictrum aquilegifolium.
Anemone japonica and vars.
Delphinium, in var.
Aconitum, in var.
Macleaya cordata.
Kitaibelia vitifolia.
Tropæolum speciosum.
Baptisia australis.
Coronilla varia.
Galega officinalis, both white and pink forms.
Galega biloba.
Astragalus ponticus.
Lathyrus grandiflorus.
” rotundifolius.
” latifolius.
” latifolius albus.
Lupinus polyphyllus.
Rubus biflorus.
Œnothera Lamarckiana.
Astilbe rivularis.
Ferula, in var.
Campanula, in great var.
Calystegia dahurica.
” pubescens.
Verbascum Chaixii.
Pentstemon barbatus.
Veronica, tall kinds in var.
Phlomis Russelliana.
” herba–venti.
Physostegia speciosa.
” virginica.
Acanthus spinosus.
Lilies, common kinds.
Narcissus, common kinds.
Scillas, in var.
Statice latifolia.
Phytolacca decandra.
Aristolochia Sipho.
Asparagus Broussoneti.
” officinalis.
Vitis, in var.
Honeysuckles, in var.
Leucojum, in var.
Fritillary, in var.
_Trailers, Climbers, etc._
The selection of plants to cover bowers, trellises, railings, old
trees, stumps, rootwork, etc., suitably, is important, particularly
as the plants fitted for these purposes are equally useful for rough
rockwork, precipitous banks, flanks of rustic bridges, river–banks,
ruins, covering cottages or outhouses, and many other uses in garden,
pleasure–ground, or wilderness.
Vitis æstivalis.
” amooriensis.
” cordifolia.
” heterophylla variegata
” Isabella.
” Labrusca.
” laciniosa.
” riparia.
” Sieboldii.
” vinifera apiifolia.
” vulpina.
Aristolochia Sipho.
” tomentosa.
Clematis, in great variety, both species and hybrids.
Calystegia dahurica.
” pubescens plena.
Wistaria sinensis.
Asparagus Broussoneti.
Periploca græca.
Hablitzia tamnoides.
Boussingaultia baselloides.
Menispermum canadense.
” virginicum.
Cissus orientalis.
” pubescens.
Ampelopsis bipinnata.
” cordata.
” hederacea.
” tricuspidata.
Jasminum nudiflorum.
” officinale.
” revolutum.
Passiflora cœrulea.
Lonicera Caprifolium.
” confusa.
” flava.
” japonica.
” Periclymenum.
_Spring and early Summer Flowers for Naturalisation._
Anemone alpina.
” ” sulphurea.
” apennina.
” blanda.
” Coronaria.
” fulgens.
” Hepatica.
” ranunculoides.
” trifolia.
Ranunculus aconitifolius.
” amplexicaulis.
” montanus.
Helleborus niger.
” olympicus, and many other kinds.
Eranthis hyemalis.
Aquilegia vulgaris.
Pæonia, many kinds.
Epimedium pinnatum.
Papaver croceum.
” bracteatum.
” orientale.
Dielytra eximia.
” spectabilis.
Corydalis capnoides.
” lutea.
Cheiranthus alpinus.
” Cheiri.
Arabis.
Aubrietia, various.
Alyssum saxatile.
Iberis corifolia.
” sempervirens.
” correæfolia.
Viola cornuta.
Saponaria ocymoides.
Silene alpestris.
Arenaria montana.
Ononis fruticosa.
Vicia argentea.
Orobus flaccidus.
” cyaneus.
” lathyroides.
” variegatus.
” vernus.
Centranthus ruber.
Centaurea montana.
Doronicum caucasicum.
Thlaspi latifolium.
Hesperis matronalis.
Erica carnea.
Vinca major.
Gentiana acaulis.
Phlox reptans.
Pulmonaria grandiflora.
” mollis.
Symphytum bohemicum.
” caucasicum.
Myosotis dissitiflora.
Omphalodes verna.
Verbascum Chaixii.
Dodecatheon Jeffreyi.
” Meadia.
Cyclamen europæum.
Cyclamen hederæfolium.
Primula, in var.
Iris amœna.
” cristata.
” De Bergii.
” flavescens.
” florentina.
” germanica.
” graminea.
” ochroleuca.
” pallida.
” sambucina.
” sub–biflora.
” variegata, and many other kinds.
Crocus aureus.
” speciosus.
” versicolor.
” susianus, and many others.
Narcissus angustifolius.
” Bulbocodium.
” bicolor.
” incomparabilis.
” major.
” montanus.
” odorus.
” poeticus & vars.
Galanthus, in var.
Leucojum pulchellum.
” vernum.
Paradisia Liliastrum.
Ornithogalum umbellatum.
Scilla amœna.
” bifolia.
” campanulata.
” patula.
” italica.
” sibirica.
Hyacinthus amethystinus.
Muscari botryoides.
” moschatum, and various others.
Allium neapolitanum.
” ciliatum.
Tulipa Gesneriana.
” suaveolens.
” scabriscapa and many others.
Fritillaria, in var.
Bulbocodium vernum.
_Plants for Naturalisation beneath specimen Trees on Lawns, etc._
Where, as is frequently the case, the branches of trees, both evergreen
and deciduous, sweep the turf—and this, as a rule, they should be
allowed to do where they are planted in ornamental grounds—a great
number of pretty spring flowers may be naturalised beneath the
branches, where they thrive without attention. It is chiefly in the
case of deciduous trees that this could be done; but even in the case
of conifers and evergreens some graceful objects might be dotted
beneath the outermost points of their lower branches. However, it is
the specimen deciduous tree that offers us the best opportunities in
this way. We know that a great number of our spring flowers and hardy
bulbs mature their foliage and go to rest early in the year. They
require light and sun in spring, which they obtain abundantly under the
deciduous tree; they have time to flower and develop their leaves under
it before the foliage of the tree appears; then, as the summer heats
approach, they are gradually overshadowed by a cool canopy, and go to
rest undisturbed; but, the leaves of the trees once fallen, they soon
begin to appear again and cover the ground with beauty.
An example or two will perhaps explain the matter more fully. Take the
case of, say, a spreading old specimen of any summer–leafing tree.
Scatter a few tufts of the winter Aconite beneath it, and leave them
alone. In a very few years they will have covered the ground; every
year afterwards they will spread a golden carpet beneath the tree; and
when it fades there will be no eyesore from decaying leaves as there
would be on a border—no necessity for replacing the plants with others;
the tree puts forth its leaves, covering the ground till Autumn, and in
early spring we again see our little friend in all the vigour of his
glossy leaves and golden buttons. In this way this pretty spring flower
may be seen to much greater advantage, in a much more pleasing position
than in the ordinary way of putting it in patches and rings in beds or
borders, and with a tithe of the trouble. There are many other subjects
of which the same is true. We have only to imagine this done in a
variety of cases to see to what a beautiful and novel result it would
lead. Given the bright blue Apennine Anemone under one tree, the spring
Snowflake under another, the delicate blue and pencilled Crocuses, and
so on, we should have a spring garden of the most beautiful kind. The
same plan could be carried out under the branches of a grove as well
as of specimen trees. Very attractive mixed plantations might be made
by dotting tall subjects like the large Jonquil (Narcissus odorus)
among dwarf spreading plants like the Anemone, and also by mixing dwarf
plants of various colours: diversely coloured varieties of the same
species of Anemone, for example.
Omitting the various pretty British plants that would thrive in the
positions indicated—these are not likely to be unknown to the reader
interested in such matters—and confining the selection to dwarf, hardy,
exotic flowers alone, the following are selected as among the most
suitable for such arrangements as that just described, with some little
attention as to the season of flowering and the kind of soil required
by some rather uncommon species. A late–flowering kind, for example,
should be planted under late–leafing trees, or towards the points of
their branches, so that they might not be obscured by the leaves of the
tree before perfecting their flowers.
Anemone angulosa.
” apennina.
” blanda.
” Coronaria.
” fulgens.
” Hepatica.
” stellata.
” sylvestris.
” trifolia.
Arum italicum.
Bulbocodium vernum.
Corydalis solida.
” tuberosa.
Crocus Imperati.
” biflorus.
” reticulatus.
” versicolor, and many others.
Cyclamen hederæfolium.
Eranthis hyemalis.
Erythronium Dens–canis.
Ficaria grandiflora.
Snowdrop, all the kinds.
Snowflake, all the kinds.
Iris reticulata.
Grape Hyacinths.
Grape Hyacinths Muscari,
any of the numerous kinds.
Narcissus, in var.
Puschkinia scilloides.
Sanguinaria canadensis.
Scilla bifolia.
” sibirica.
” campanulata.
Sisyrinchium grandiflorum.
Trillium grandiflorum (peat or leaf soil).
Tulipa, in var.
_Plants for very moist rich Soils._
Althæa, in var.
Astilbe rivularis.
Aralia edulis.
” nudicaulis.
Artemisia, in var.
Asclepias Cornuti.
Asphodelus ramosus.
Aster, in var.
Baptisia exaltata.
Butomus umbellatus.
Calla palustris.
Caltha palustris fl. pl.
Campanula glomerata, and large kinds.
Convallaria multiflora.
Colchicum, in var.
Crinum capense.
Cypripedium spectabile.
Datisca cannabina.
Echinops, in var.
Elymus, in var.
Epilobium, in var.
Eupatorium, in var.
Ficaria grandiflora.
Galax aphylla.
Galega officinalis.
Gentiana asclepiadea.
Helianthus multiflorus,
single and double forms.
Helianthus orgyalis.
” rigidus.
Helonias bullata.
Hemerocallis, in var.
Heracleum, in var.
Iris ochreleuca.
Liatris, in var.
Lythrum (roseum superbum).
Mimulas, in var.
Molopospermum cicutarium.
Mulgedium Plumieri.
Narcissus, stronger kinds.
Œnothera, large kinds.
Omphalodes verna.
Onopordon, in var.
Phlomis herba–venti.
” Russelliana.
Physostegia speciosa.
Phytolacca decandra.
Rudbeckia hirta.
Ranunculus amplexicaulis.
” parnassifolius.
Sanguinaria canadensis.
Solidago, in var.
Spiræa Aruncus.
Statice latifolia.
Silphium, in var.
Swertia perennis.
Telekia speciosa.
Thalictrum, in var.
Trollius, in var.
Vaccinium, in var.
Veratrum, in var.
_Plants suited for Peat Soil._
Alstrœmeria, in var.
Calluna, in var.
Chimaphila maculata.
Chrysobactron Hookeri.
Coptis trifoliata.
Cornus canadensis.
Cypripedium spectabile.
Dentaria laciniata.
Daphne Cneorum.
Dryas octopetala.
Epigæa repens.
Epimedium, in var.
Funkia Sieboldii.
” grandiflora.
Galax aphylla.
Gaultheria procumbens.
Gentians, in var.
Helonias bullata.
Iris nudicaulis, pumila, and vars.
Jeffersonia diphylla.
Linnæa borealis.
Podophyllum peltatum.
Podophyllum Eniodi.
Polygala Chamæbuxus.
Pyrola, in var.
Hardy Heaths, in var.
Ramondia pyrenaica.
Sisyrinchium grandiflorum.
Spigelia marilandica.
Trientalis europæa.
Trillium grandiflorum.
Lilies, in var.
_Plants suited for Calcareous or Chalky Soil._
Adenophora, in var.
Æthionema, in var.
Anemone, in var.
Alyssum, in var.
Anthyllis montana.
Antirrhinum, in var.
Cistus, in var.
Cheiranthus, in var.
Campanula, in var.
Carduus eriophorus.
Cerastium, in var.
Coronilla, in var.
Dorycnium sericeum.
Dianthus, in var.
Echium, in var.
Erodium, in var.
Genista, in var.
Geum, in var.
Geranium, in var.
Gypsophila, in var.
Hedysarum, in var.
Helianthemum, in var.
Lunaria biennis.
Lupinus polyphyllus.
Onobrychis, in var.
Ononis, in var.
Ophrys, in var.
Othonna cheirifolia.
Phlomis, in var.
Prunella grandiflora.
Santolina, in var.
Saponaria ocymoides.
Saxifraga (the encrusted and the large–leaved kinds).
Scabiosa, in var.
Sempervivum, in var.
Sedum, in var.
Symphytum, in var.
Thermopsis fabacea.
Thymus, in var.
Trachelium cœruleum.
Trifolium alpinum.
Triteleia uniflora.
Tunica Saxifraga.
Vesicaria utriculata.
Vicia, in var.
Vittadenia triloba.
Waldsteinia trifoliata.
” geoides.
_Plants suited for Dry and Gravelly Soil._
Achillæa, in var.
Æthionema cordifolium.
Agrostemma coronaria.
Alyssum saxatile.
Antennaria dioica.
Anthyllis montana.
Antirrhinum rupestre.
Arabis albida.
Aubrietia, in var.
Armeria cephalotes.
Artemisia, in var.
Cerastium, in var.
Carlina acanthifolia.
Cheiranthus, in var.
Chrysopsis mariana.
Cistus, in var.
Corydalis, in var.
Dianthus, in var.
Dracocephalum, in var.
Dielytra eximia.
Dorycnium sericeum.
Echium, in var.
Erodium, in var.
Eryngium, in var.
Euphorbia Myrsinites.
Fumaria, in var.
Geranium, in var.
Gypsophila, in var.
Helianthemum, in var.
Helichrysum arenarium.
Hypericum, in var.
Iberis, in var.
Jasione perennis.
Lavandula spica.
Linaria, in var.
Linum, in var.
Lupinus polyphyllus.
Modiola geranioides.
Narcissus, in var.
Nepeta Mussinii.
Onobrychis, in var.
Ononis, in var.
Ornithogalum, in var.
Plumbago Larpentæ.
Polygonum vaccinifolium.
Santolina, in var.
Scabiosa, in var.
Sedum, in great var.
Sempervivum, in great var.
Saponaria ocymoides.
Stachys lanata.
Teucrium Chamædrys.
Thlaspi latifolium.
Thymus, in var.
Trachelium, in var.
Tussilago fragrans.
” Farfara variegata.
Verbascum, in var.
Vesicaria utriculata.
_Selection of Plants for Growing on Old Walls, Ruins, or Rocky Slopes._
Achillea tomentosa.
Alyssum montanum saxatile (walls and ruins).
Antirrhinum rupestre.
” majus.
” Orontium.
Arenaria balearica.
” cæspitosa.
” ciliata.
” graminifolia.
” montana.
” verna.
Arabis albida.
” petræa.
Asperula cynanchica.
Campanula Barrelieri.
” rotundifolia.
” fragilis.
” fragilis lanuginosa.
” garganica.
” pumila.
” pumila alba.
Centranthus ruber.
” ” albus.
Centranthus ruber coccineus.
Cheiranthus alpinus.
” Cheiri.
” ” pleno.
Coronilla minima.
Corydalis lutea.
Cotyledon Umbilicus.
Dianthus cæsius.
” deltoides.
” monspessulanus.
” petræus.
Draba aizoides.
Erinus alpinus.
Erodium romanum.
” Reichardii.
Gypsophila muralis.
” prostrata.
Helianthemums.
Hutchinsia petræa.
Iberis.
Ionopsidium acaule.
Koniga maritima.
Linum alpinum.
Lychnis alpina.
Lychnis Flos Jovis.
” lapponica.
Malva campanulata.
Santolina lanata.
Saponaria ocymoides.
Saxifraga bryoides.
” caryophyllata.
” cæsia.
” crustata.
” cuscutæformis.
” diapensioides.
” Hostii.
” intacta.
” ligulata.
” longifolia.
” pectinata.
” pulchella.
” retusa.
” Rhei.
” rosularis.
” Rocheliana.
” sarmentosa.
Sedum acre.
” aureum.
” Aizoon.
Sedum album.
” anglicum.
” arenarium.
” brevifolium.
” californicum.
” cœruleum.
” dasyphyllum.
” elegans.
” Ewersii.
” farinosum.
” globiferum.
” Heuffelli.
” hirtum.
Sedum hispanicum.
” kamschaticum.
” montanum.
” multiceps.
” pilferum.
” pulchrum.
” sempervivoides.
Sempervivum arachnoideum.
” soboliferum.
” spurium.
” sexangulare.
” sexfidum.
Sempervivum tectorum.
Silene alpestris.
” rupestris.
” Schafta.
Symphiandra pendula.
Thlaspi alpestre.
Thymus citriodorus.
Trichomanes, and vars.
Tunica Saxifraga.
Umbilicus chrysanthus.
Veronica fruticulosa.
” saxatilis.
Vesicaria utriculata.
_A Selection of Annual and Biennial Plants for Naturalisation._
Papaver somniferum.
Eschscholtzia californica.
Platystemon californicum.
Matthiola annua.
” bicornis.
Arabis arenosa.
Alyssum maritimum.
Iberis coronaria.
” umbellata.
Malcolmia maritima.
Erysimum Peroffskianum.
Gypsophila elegans.
Saponaria calabrica.
Silene Armeria.
Viscaria oculata.
Malope trifida.
Limnanthes Douglasii.
Ononis viscosa.
Œnothera odorata.
Godetia Lindleyana.
” rubicunda.
Godetia tenella.
Clarkia elegans.
” pulchella.
Eucharidium concinnum grandiflorum.
Amberboa moschata.
” odorata.
Helianthus annuus.
Dimorphotheca pluvialis.
Gilia capitata.
” tricolor.
Collomia coccinea.
Leptosiphon androsaceus.
” densiflorus.
Nicandra physaloides.
Collinsia bicolor.
” verna.
Dracocephalum nutans.
” moldavicum.
Blitum capitatum.
Polygonum orientale.
Panicum capillare.
Bromus brizæformis.
Briza maxima.
” gracilis.
Agrostis nebulosa.
Matthiola, in var.
Lunaria biennis.
Hesperis matronalis.
Erysimum asperum.
Silene pendula.
Hedysarum coronarium.
Œnothera Jamesi.
Œnothera Lamarckiana.
Dipsacus laciniatus.
Silybum eburneum.
Onopordum, in var.
Campanula Medium.
” ” rosea.
Verbascum phlomoides.
_Grasses for Naturalisation._
Agrostis nebulosa.
Briza maxima.
Brizopyrum siculum.
Bromus brizæformis.
Hordeum jubatum.
Panicum virgatum.
” bulbosum.
” capillare.
Polypogon monspeliensis.
Stipa gigantea.
” pennata.
Milium multiflorum.
Some of our nobler grasses, like the Pampas and the New Zealand reeds,
have not the qualities of perfect hardiness and power of increase
without care in our climate, which would entitle them to a place in
these selections. They belong to the garden proper.
_Aquatic Plants for Naturalisation._
Nuphar advena.
Nymphæa odorata.
Calla palustris.
Pontederia cordata.
Aponogeton distachyon.
Orontium aquaticum.
_Hardy Bulbs for Naturalisation._
Allium Moly.
” fragrans.
” neapolitanum.
” ciliatum.
Brodiæa congesta.
Bulbocodium vernum.
Camassia esculenta.
Crinum capense.
Crocus, in great var.
Colchicum, in var.
Cyclamen, in var.
Erythronium Dens–canis.
Fritillaria, in var.
Gladiolus communis.
Hyacinthus amethystinus.
Iris, in great var.
Leucojum, in var.
Lilium, in var.
Merendera Bulbocodium.
Muscari, in var.
Narcissus, in great var.
Ornithogalum, in var.
Scilla, in var.
Snowdrops, in var.
Sparaxis pulcherrima.
Sternbergia lutea.
Trichonema ramiflorum.
Triteleia uniflora.
Tulipa, in var.
_List of Plants for Naturalisation in Lawns and other Grassy Places not
frequently mown._
This must of necessity be a limited list—being confined to subjects
that will grow and flower early in the season, and not form tufts or
foliage large enough to much injure the turf.
Bulbocodium vernum.
Colchicum, in var.
Cyclamen hederæfolium.
Snowdrops, all.
Leucojum vernum.
Scilla bifolia.
” alba.
” sibirica.
” italica.
” amœna.
Anemone apennina.
” ranunculoides.
” blanda.
” trifolia.
Antennaria dioica rosea.
Anthyllis montana.
Dianthus deltoides.
Erodium romanum.
Fumaria bulbosa.
Helichrysum arenarium.
Iris reticulata.
Linum alpinum.
Narcissus minor.
” bicolor.
” Bulbocodium.
” juncifolius, and many others.
Sternbergia lutea.
Hyacinthus amethystinus.
Merendera Bulbocodium.
Muscari, in var.
Trichonema ramiflorum.
_Climbing and Twining Plants for Thickets, Copses, Hedgerows, and
Trees._
Ampelopsis bipinnata.
” cordata.
” hederacea.
” tricuspidata.
Apios tuberosa.
Aristolochia Sipho.
” tomentosa.
Asparagus Broussoneti.
Calystegia dahurica.
Cissus orientalis.
Clematis flammula.
” montana.
” Viticella, and others.
Hablitzia tamnoides.
Jasminum nudiflorum.
” officinale.
Lathyrus grandiflorus.
” latifolius.
” rotundifolius.
” tuberosus and others.
Lonicera Caprifolium.
” confusa.
” flava.
” japonica.
” Periclymenum.
Menispermum canadense.
” virginicum.
Periploca græca.
Roses, single, in great var.
Smilax, hardy kinds.
Tamus communis.
Tropæolum pentaphyllum.
” speciosum.
Vitis, various.
Wistaria frutescens.
” sinensis.
These selections are only proposed as aids to those dealing with
special positions. The most valuable selection and best guide to
the material for the beginner will be found in Chapter XIV., on the
principal types of Hardy Exotic Plants for the wild garden.
RABBITS AND WOODS.
This sad subject has been kept for the last, as the only disagreeable
one in connection with the wild garden. All I have to say of it is,
there should be no rabbits in the wild garden; but the following
suggestions may prove useful.
The subject should be presented in a practical light to landowners and
preservers of game, and if it can be shown that the preservation, or
rather toleration, of rabbits on an estate is a dead loss both to the
proprietor and his tenants, probably more active measures would be
taken for their extermination. It is incalculable the injury they do
to young trees alone; indeed, where they prevail there is no chance
of getting up cover except at an extravagant cost. Hares are less
destructive, if they damage trees at all; and it is said by experienced
gamekeepers that they never thrive so well where rabbits abound. And as
regards pheasants, they drive them away by eating down the evergreen
cover so necessary to their existence in the way of shelter in winter.
Pheasants will not remain in a wood where there is not shelter of
this kind; and nothing are they more partial to than the Holly, which
ought to abound in every wood, but which the rabbits destroy first.
Here are two sorts of game—hares and pheasants—which many can never
have enough of, and the existence of which is directly interfered
with by the rabbits; they should be encouraged at the expense of the
latter—not to speak of the expense incurred year after year making
up losses in plantation, and the expense of wire–netting and labour,
etc., in protecting the trees. The extermination of rabbits in this
country is not such a difficult matter as might be imagined. When it
was determined here a few years since to reduce their numbers to a
minimum on the farm lands and woods, it did not require more than a
couple of years to do so by shooting and ferreting during the season;
and they are now principally confined to one part of the estate—an
extensive tract of waste land not of much use for any other purpose.
I feel pretty certain that a few active poachers would undertake to
clear an estate of its rabbits in a marvellously short time, and would
be glad to pay a handsome consideration for the privilege of doing so.
In whatever degree rabbits contribute to our food supply—and it is not
much—they certainly destroy a great quantity of our corn crops, and are
no profit to gentlemen or game preservers, and there is therefore no
excuse for their existence.
Hungry rabbits, like hungry dogs or starving men, will eat almost
anything that can be masticated and swallowed. Rabbits, as a rule,
prefer to nibble over a pasture that contains short, sweet, wholesome
grass, and a proportion of clover, dandelion, and daisies, but in and
about woods where rabbits are numerous, the grass, from being closely
and constantly eaten off, gradually disappears, and at the approach
of winter is succeeded by moss, a very cold, watery, and innutritious
substitute; then rabbits are driven to seek food from other sources
than grass, and the bark of small trees, the leaves, stalks, and bark
of shrubs, and the protruding roots of forest trees, are eaten almost
indiscriminately. Amongst evergreen shrubs, rhododendrons and box are
generally avoided, but I have known newly–planted hybrid rhododendrons
to be partly eaten by rabbits. The elder is distasteful, and American
azaleas are avoided. I have frequently seen Yew trees barked; mahonias
are devoured in these woods as soon as planted; and periwinkle,
which is named amongst rabbit–proof plants, is generally eaten to
the ground in severe weather. Some of the bulbs and flowering plants
named by your correspondent may well escape in winter, because they
are not seen above ground, and where they grow, other more agreeable
herbage appears, so their immunity consists in being inaccessible
in a hungry time. Where rabbits are permitted, the fact that they
require food daily, like other creatures, should be recognised. In
the absence of wholesome food, they will eat simply what they can
get. A certain portion of grass land should be retained for them and
managed accordingly; a few acres might be wired round, or, to be more
explicit, surrounded with wire–netting, to the exclusion of rabbits,
until the approach of wintry weather, when it could be thrown open for
them. If this cannot be done, and frosty weather sets in, when the
mischief to shrubs is consummated, trimmings of quick hedges should
be scattered about, and an allowance of turnips, carrots, or mangold
wurzel made and doled out daily in bad weather. In my experience
rabbits prefer newly planted trees and shrubs to those established. I
have even had the fronds of newly–planted Athyrium Filix–fœmina eaten,
while other ferns have been untouched. There is one hint I may give
your rabbit–preserving readers: certain breeds of wild rabbits are
much more prone to bark trees than others. The barking of trees is an
acquired propensity more common to north–country rabbits than others.
I should advise the destruction of those rabbits whose propensity for
shrubs is very marked, and try warren or common rabbits from the south
of England; but the best advice I can give is to have no rabbits at
all.—J. S.
A correspondent who has given much attention to the subject
(Salmoniceps) gives the following, as among the most rabbit–proof of
plants:—“Most of the Lily family are,” he says, “rejected by them,
including Daffodils, Tulips, Snowdrops, Snowflakes, Lilies, Day Lilies,
Asphodels, and others, and they cannot be too extensively planted; but
even in that tribe the Crocus (which is also named in the article in
question) is greedily devoured. I gave—in an early number of your paper
(see pp. 9 and 88, Vol. I.)—a list of all rabbit–proof trees, shrubs,
and flowers then known to me, and I regret that, though keeping a watch
upon the subject, I have not been able to add a single species to the
list given below.”
Androsæmum officinale.
Anemone coronaria.
” japonica.
Arabis.
Artemesia Abrotanum.
Asphodelus albus.
Aubrietia.
Berberis Darwinii.
Canterbury Bells.
Cineraria maritima.
Columbine.
Common and Irish Yews.
Deutzia scabra.
Dog’s–tooth Violet.
Elder.
Euonymus.
Fuchsia.
Hibiscus syriacus.
Hollies.
Honesty (Lunaria).
Iris.
Ligustrum vulgare.
Lilies (common orange and white kinds).
Lily of the Valley.
Lycium barbarum.
Mahonia Aquifolium.
Monkshood.
Muscari.
Narcissus.
Ornithogalum.
Pansies.
Periwinkle (large and small).
Phlox, in var.
Poppy.
Primrose, in var.
Roses.
Ruscus aculeatus.
” racemosus.
Scilla.
Solomon’s Seal.
Lonicera, in var.
Stachys lanata.
Symphoricarpus.
” racemosus.
Syringa persica.
” vulgaris.
Tritoma.
Violets.
Weigela rosea.
Winter Aconite.
Woodruff.
Yucca gloriosa.
Lists, however, and considerations of the above sort, are a poor
substitute for what is really required in such cases—the extermination
of pests which are destructive alike to field crops, to trees and
shrubs, and to plants, and which offer at best a very scanty return for
the havoc they commit.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FINIS.
INDEX.
Acanthus, 120
Accident, a beautiful, 51
Achillea, 122
Achilleas, large white, 53
Aconite, the Winter, 139
Aconitum, 121
Adam’s Needle, 162
Ajuga, 122
Alkanet, 125
Allium, the White, 123
Allium, the Yellow, naturalised, 42
Alstrœmeria, 123
Althæa, 123, 150
American Cowslip, 136
American Swamp Lily, 64
American White Wood Lily, 59
Ampelopsis, 130
Anchusa, 125
Anemone, 124
Anemone, Blue Apennine, 17
Anemone fulgens, 23
Anemones in the Riviera, 25
Anthericum, 125
Antirrhinum, 125
Apennine Anemone, 7
Aquilegia, 125
Arabis, 126
Arenaria, 126
Arenaria balearica on a wall, 88
Aristolochia Sipho, 129
Arum, 127
Arundo Donax, 155
Asclepias, 128
Asphodel, 127
Aster, 128
Astragalus, 129
Astrantia, 129
Atragene Alpina, 30
Aubrietia, 129
Bamboo, 130
Bambusa, 130
Baptisia, 130
Barren–wort, 138
Bear’s Breech, 120
Bedding System, the, 2
Bee Balm, 150
Bell–flower, 130
Bindweed, 134
Bindweed, a South European, 135
Bindweed, large white, 39
Bitter Vetch, 151
Blood–root, 15
Bloodwort, 157
Blue Apennine Anemone, 17
Blue Rock Cress, 129
Bog Garden, 77
Bog Gardens, 67
Bohemian Comfrey, 11
Borage, 12
Borage family, 9
Borago, 130
Borago cretica, 13
Bramble, 155
Bramble, the Nootka, 40
Brookside Gardens, 67
Bugle, 122
Bulbs, hardy, for naturalisation, 172
Bulbs and Tubers in grass, 15
Calla palustris, 135
Callirhoe, 150
Calystegia, 134
Campanula, 130
Candytuft, Evergreen, 145
Cape Pond Weed, 75
Catch–fly, 157
Caucasian Comfrey, 9, 10
Celastrus, 46
Centaurea, 131
Centranthus ruber, 131
Cephalaria, 157
Cephalaria procera, 33
Cerastium, 131
Cheddar Pink, 91
Cheddar Pink, Saxifrage, etc., on wall, 89
Cheiranthus, 131
Christmas Rose, 143
Clematis, 133
Clematis erecta, 133
Clematis flammula, 21
Clematis, large white, on Yew tree, 44
Clematis, the mountain, 22
Clematis, the White–flowered European, 133
Climbers, 166
Climbing plants crucified, 45
Climbing plants for Wild Garden, 8
Climbing Rose isolated on grass, 87
Colchicum, 132
Colony of Myrrhis odorata, 51
Colony of Narcissus in shrubbery, 57
Colony of Summer Snowflake, 119
Columbine, 125
Columbine, the Siberian, 126
Columbines in Grass, v
Comfrey, 157
Comfreys, 11
Common Lupine, 146
Copse, Lily of the Valley in a, 63
Copses, 36
Coral–wort, 135
Cornus canadensis, 133
Coronilla varia, 135
Cotton Thistle, 151
Cow Parsnip, the Giant, 35
Cow Parsnips, 143
Crambe, 134
Crane’s Bill, wild, 94
Creeping Forget–me–not, 151
Cretan Borage, 13
Crocus, 132
Crocuses, 17
Crocuses in turf, 20
Culture in Woods, 64
Cyclamen, 133
Cyclamen, Ivy–leaved, 5
Cyclamens in the Wild Garden, 134
Cyperus longus, 73
Cypripedium spectabile, 133
Daffodil, 151
Day Lily, 143
Day Lily by margin of water, 76
Delphinium, 136
Dentaria, 135
Dianthus, 137
Dielytra, 136
Digitalis, 137
Digging shrubbery borders, 51
Ditches, 36
Dodecatheon, 136
Dog’s–tooth Violet, 139
Doronicum, 136
Drapery for trees and bushes, 43
Dug and mutilated shrubbery in St. James’s Park, 111
Dwarf Cornel, 133
Echinops, 138
Ellacombe, Rev. H. N., on the Rose, 81
Enothera, 151
Epigæa repens, 138
Epimedium, 138
Eranthis hyemalis, 139
Erica, 138
Eryngium, 138
Erythronium, 139
Eupatorium, 137
Evening Primrose, 151
Evening Primrose at night, 4
Evergreen Candytuft, 145
Everlasting Pea, 148
Exotic and British Wild Flowers in the Wild Garden, 17
Ferns, 141
Ferula, 140
Flame Flower, 159
Fleur de Lis, 145
Flowers, Spring and early Summer, 166
Forget–me–not, 149
Forget–me–not, Creeping, 151
Foxglove, 137
Fritillaria, 140
Fumaria, 136
Fumitory, 136
Fumitory, the Yellow, on wall, 91
Funkia, 139
Funkia Sieboldi, group of, 140
Galanthus, 143
Galega, 142
Gardens of the future, 58
Gentian, 142
Geranium, 141
Geranium, a hardy, 141
Geraniums in Grass, v
Giant Comfrey, 13
Giant Cow Parsnip, 35
Giant Fennel, 140
Giant Scabious, 33, 135
Giant Sea–kale, 134
Globe Flower, 159
Globe Flower order, 21
Globe Flowers, 25
Globe Flowers, group of, 21
Globe Thistle, 138
Goat’s Rue, 142
Golden Rod, 156
Grape Hyacinth, 148
Grape Hyacinths, 17
Grass, double Crimson Pæonies in, 30
Grass, Star of Bethlehem in, 15
Grasses for naturalisation, 171
Great Siberian vegetation, type of, 35
Green Hellebore in the Wild Garden, 26
Gromwells, 11
Gypsophila, 142
Hardy flowers by brook–side, 69
Heath, 138
Hedgerows, 36
Helianthemum, 144
Helianthus, 144
Hellebore in Wild Garden, 26
Helleborus, 143
Hemerocallis, 143
Hemp Agrimony, 137
Hepatica angulosa, 24
Hepatica, common, 25
Heracleum, 143
Herb Paris and Solomon’s Seal in copse by streamlet, 67
Hesperis, 145
Honesty, 146
Honeysuckle, 147
Hop, the, 45
Houseleek, 158
Hovey, Mr., on tree drapery, 47
Hypericum, 145
Iberis, 145
Illustrations, list of, xi
Indian Cress, showy, 160
Iris, 145
Japan Anemone in the Wild Garden, 23
Japan Knotweed, 152
Japan Sedum in Wild Garden, 92
Kitaibelia, 150
Knap–weed, 131
Knautia, 157
Landwort, 126
Large Achilleas, 53
Large Bindweed, 39
Large–flowered Clematis, 101
Large–leafed Saxifrage, 97
Larkspurs, perennial, 27
Lathyrus, 147
Lavender, Sea, 156
Leopard’s Bane, 136
Leucojum, 147
Liane in the north, 49
Lilies through carpet of White Arabis, 55
Lilium, 146
Lily, 146
Lily, American Swamp, 64
Lily, American White Wood, 59
Lily of the Valley in a copse, 63
Lily, Wood, 159
Lily, Water, 151
Lily, White Wood, 37
Lithospermum prostratum, 147
Longleat, Wild Garden at, 61
Lonicera, 147
Lords and Ladies, 127
Lunaria, 146
Lungwort, 154
Lungworts, 11
Lupine, common, 146
Lychnis, 147
Mallow, 150
Malope, 150
Malva, 150
Marsh Calla, 135
Marsh Mallow, 123
Marsh Marigold and Iris in early spring, 78
Masterwort, 129
Matthiola, 149
May–flower, 138
Meadow Rue, 158
Meadow Rue in Wild Garden, 1
Meadow Rues, 31
Meadow Saffron, foliage of, 132
Menispermum, 47
Menziesia, 138
Mertensia virginica, 12
Milk Vetch, 129
Mimulus, 148
Mocassin Flower, 133
Molopospermum, 149
Monarda, 150
Monkey–flower, 148
Monkshood, 121
Moonseed, 47
Mountain Clematis, 22
Mouse–ear, 131
Mowing Grass, 17
Mulgedium Plumieri, 6, 150
Mullein, a tall, 161
Muscari, 148
Myosotis, 149
Myrrh, 60
Myrrhis odorata, a colony of, 51
Narcissus, 151
Narcissus, colony of, in shrubbery, 57
New England, woods of, 58
Night effect of Evening Primrose, 4
Nootka Bramble, 40
Nuphar, 151
Nursery for London Parks, 118
Nymphæa, 151
Œnothera Lamarkiana, 4
Omphalodes, 151
Omphalodes verna, 10
Onopordon, 151
Orchard Wild Garden, 65
Ornithogalum, 151
Orobus, 151
Oxalis, 152
Ox–eye Daisy, the tall, 154
Pæonies in grass, 30
Pæony, 153
Papaver, in var., 153
Partridge Berry, 80
Pea, 147
Pea, Everlasting, 148
Perennial Larkspurs, 27
Perennial Larkspurs naturalised in shrubbbery, 28
Periwinkle, 161
Phlomis, 153
Physostegia, 154
Phytolacca decandra, 154
Pink, 137
Plants, Annual and Biennial, for naturalisation, 171
Plants, Aquatic, 171
Plants chiefly fitted for the Wild Garden, 32
Plants, climbing and twining, for copses, thickets, hedgerows,
and trees, 172
Plants for bare banks, 164
Plants for calcareous or chalky soil, 169
Plants, hardy, with fine foliage, 165
Plants for hedge–banks and like places, 165
Plants for moist rich soils, 169
Plants for naturalisation beneath specimen trees on lawns, 167
Plants for naturalisation in lawns and other grassy places, 172
Plants for peat–soil, 169
Plants for the Wild Garden, 120
Plants of vigorous habit for the Wild Garden, 164
Plants, selections of, for old walls, ruins, or rocky slopes, 170
Plants, selections of hardy, 163
Plants suited for dry and gravelly soil, 170
Polygonum cuspidatum, 152
Poppy, 153
Primrose, Evening, 151
Pulmonaria, 154
Pyrethrum serotinum, 154
Rabbits and Woods, 173
Reasons for the system, 4
Red Valerian, 131
Reed, the Great, 155
Results, 92
Rheum, 155
Rhubarb, 155
Riviera, Anemones in the, 25
Rocket, 145
Rosa, 155
Rose, 155
Roses for the Wild Garden, hedgerows, fences, and groups, 81
Roses in the Riviera, 85
Rosy Coronilla, 135
Rubus, 155
Rudbeckia, 144
Rush, flowering, 73
Sanguinaria canadensis, 157
Saxifraga, 158
Saxifrage, 158
Scabious, the Giant, 33
Scabious, 157
Scilla, 157
Scillas, 17
Sea Holly, 138
Sea–kale, the Giant, 134
Sea Lavender, 156
Sedum, 157
Sempervivum, 158
Shady Lanes, 36
Shrubbery borders, digging of, 51
Shrubbery, margin of, 118
Shrubbery, Perennial Larkspurs naturalised in, 28
Sida, 150
Silene, 157
Silkweed, 128
Silphium, 144
Snakes–head, 140
Snapdragon, 125
Snowdrop, 17
Snowdrop–Anemone, colony of, in shrubbery not dug, 115
Snowdrops, 143
Snowdrops, Wild, by streamlet, 142
Snowflake, 17, 147
Soils, 169, 170
Solidago, 156
Solomon’s Seal, 18
Sowbread, 133
Speedwell, 162
Spiderwort, 159
Spiræa, 156
Spring Flowers in the Wild Garden, 7
Squill, 157
Star of Bethlehem, 151
Star of Bethlehem in grass, 15
Starwort, 128
Statice, 156
St. Bruno’s Lily, 125
St. John’s Wort, 145
Stock, 149
Stonecrop, 157
Sunflower, Perennial, 144
Sun Rose on limestone rocks, 144
Sun Roses, 104
Symphytum, 157
Telekia cordifolia, 159
Tew Park, 98
Thalictrum, 158
Thickets, 36
Tiger Lilies in Wild Garden at Great Tew, 98
Tradescantia virginica, 159
Trailers, 166
Trees and Bushes, drapery for, 43
Tree drapery, Mr. Hovey on, 47
Trillium, 159
Tritoma, 159
Tritoma, group of, 160
Trollius, 21, 25, 159
Tropæolum speciosum, 160
Tulip, 159
Tunica, 142
Turf, Crocuses in, 20
Turk’s Cap Lily, 19
Valley in Somersetshire, 70
Verbascum, 161
Veronica, 162
Vetch, Bitter, 151
Vinca, 161
Vines, Wild, 48
Viola, 162
Violet, 162
Virgin’s Bower, 21, 133
Virginian Creepers, 130
Virginian Poke, 154
Wall Cress, 126
Wallflower, 131
Water Dock, Great, 72
Water Lily, 151
Water Lily, Yellow, 71
Water Plants, 70
Waterside Gardens, 67
White Arabis, Lilies coming up through carpet of, 55
White Clematis on Yew tree, 44
White Climbing Rose over old Catalpa tree, 84
White Lily in Wild Garden, 146
Wild Garden in the orchard, 65
Wild Garden, Japan Anemone in the, 23
Wild Garden, plants chiefly fitted for, 32
Wild Garden, plants for, 120
Wild Garden in America, 106
Wild gardening on walls or ruins, 88
Wild Garden, where to obtain plants, 120
Wild Orchard, 65
Wild Rose on a Pollard Ash, 83
Wild Vines, 48
Willow Herb, 7
Wilson, Mr. G. F., and wood–culture, 64
Windflower, 124
Winter Aconite, 15
Winter Heliotrope, 7
Wistaria, 45
Wood and herbaceous Meadow–sweets, 105
Wood–culture, 64
Wood–culture at Bodorgan, 65
Wood Lily, 159
Wood Plants, American, 150
Woodruff and Ivy, 108
Woods and woodland drives, 51
Woods of New England, 58
Wood Sorrel, 152
Wye Valley, 90
Yarrow, 122
Yellow Allium naturalised, 42
Yucca, 162
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] See illustration on p. 51.
[2] A letter written by request, in the _Rural New Yorker_, July 1876.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wild Garden, by William Robinson
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The Wild Garden - Or Our Groves and Gardens Made Beautiful by the Naturalisation of Hardy Exotic Plants; Being One Way Onwards from the Dark Ages
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—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.
—Where necessary, illustrations have been relocated.
List of illustration has been therefore adapted.
Or our Groves and Gardens made beautiful
by the Naturalisation of Hardy Exotic
Plants; being one way onwards from the
Dark Ages of Flower Gardening, with
suggestions for the Regeneration of the
Bare Borders of the London Parks.
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- Title
- The Wild Garden - Or Our Groves and Gardens Made Beautiful by the Naturalisation of Hardy Exotic Plants; Being One Way Onwards from the Dark Ages
- Author(s)
- Robinson, W. (William)
- Language
- English
- Type
- Text
- Release Date
- November 14, 2014
- Word Count
- 52,552 words
- Library of Congress Classification
- SB
- Bookshelves
- Browsing: Environmental Issues, Browsing: Nature/Gardening/Animals
- Rights
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