The climate of North Lincolnshire is by no means one of the most
favourable of our islands, but the good gardener accepts the conditions
of the place, faces the obstacles, fights the difficulties, and
conquers.
Here is a large walled garden, originally all kitchen garden; the length
equal to twice the breadth, divided in the middle to form two squares.
It is further subdivided in the usual manner with walks parallel to the
walls, some ten feet away from them, and other walks across and across
each square. The paths are box-edged and bordered on each side with fine
groups of hardy flowers, such as the Hollyhocks and other flowers in the
picture.
The time is August, and these grand flowers are at their fullest bloom.
They are the best type of Hollyhock too, with the wide outer petal, and
the middle of the flower not too tightly packed.
Hollyhocks have so long been favourite flowers--and, indeed, what would
our late summer and autumn gardens be without them?--that they are among
those that have received the special attention of raisers, and have
become what are known as florists’ flowers. But the florists’ notions do
not always make for the highest kind of beauty. They are apt to favour
forms that one cannot but think have for their aim, in many cases, an
ideal that is a false and unworthy one. In the case of the Hollyhock,
according to the florist’s standard of beauty and correct form, the wide
outer petal is not to be allowed; the flower must be very tight and very
round. Happily we need not all be florists of this narrow school, and we
are at liberty to try for the very highest and truest beauty in our
flowers, rather than for set rules and arbitrary points of such
extremely doubtful value.
The loosely-folded inner petals of the loveliest Hollyhocks invite a
wonderful play and brilliancy of colour. Some of the colour is
transmitted through the half-transparency of the petal’s structure, some
is reflected from the neighbouring folds; the light striking back and
forth with infinitely beautiful trick and playful variation, so that
some inner regions of the heart of a rosy flower, obeying the mysterious
agencies of sunlight, texture and local colour, may tell upon the eye as
pure scarlet; while the wide outer petal, in itself generally rather
lighter in colour, with its slightly waved surface and gently frilled
edge, plays the game of give and take with light and tint in quite
other, but always delightful, ways.
Then see how well the groups have been placed; the rosy group leading to
the fuller red, with a distant sulphur-coloured gathering at the far
end; its tall spires of bloom shooting up and telling well against the
distant tree masses above the wall. And how pleasantly the colour of the
rosy group is repeated in the Phlox in the opposite border. And what a
capital group that is, near the Hollyhocks of that fine summer flower,
the double Crown Daisy (_Chrysanthemum coronarium_), with the bright
glimpses of some more of it beyond. Then the Pansies and Erigerons give
a mellowing of grey-lilac that helps the brighter colours, and is not
overdone.
The large fruit-tree has too spreading a shade to allow of much actual
bloom immediately beneath it, so that here is a patch of Butcher’s
Broom, a shade-loving plant. Beyond, out in the sunlight again, is the
fine herbaceous Clematis (_C. recta_), whose excellent qualities entitle
it to a much more frequent use in gardens.
The flower-borders are so full and luxuriant that they completely hide
the vegetable quarters within, for the garden is still a kitchen garden
as to its main inner spaces. These masses of good flowers are the work
of the Misses Freeling; they are ardent gardeners, sparing themselves no
labour or trouble; to their care and fine perception of the best use of
flowers the beauty and interest of these fine borders are entirely due.
Indeed, this garden is a striking instance
[Illustration: BLYBOROUGH: HOLLYHOCKS