WEEDS AND PESTS
Weeding is a delightful occupation, especially after summer rain, when
the roots come up clear and clean. One gets to know how many and various
are the ways of weeds--as many almost as the moods of human creatures.
How easy and pleasant to pull up are the soft annuals like Chickweed and
Groundsel, and how one looks with respect at deep-rooted things like
Docks, that make one go and fetch a spade. Comfrey is another thing with
a terrible root, and every bit must be got out, as it will grow again
from the smallest scrap. And hard to get up are the two Bryonies, the
green and the black, with such deep-reaching roots, that, if not weeded
up within their first year, will have to be seriously dug out later. The
white Convolvulus, one of the loveliest of native plants, has a most
persistently running root, of which every joint will quickly form a new
plant. Some of the worst weeds to get out are Goutweed and Coltsfoot.
Though I live on a light soil, comparatively easy to clean, I have done
some gardening in clay, and well know what a despairing job it is to
get the bits of either of these roots out of the stiff clods.
The most persistent weed in my soil is the small running Sheep's Sorrel.
First it makes a patch, and then sends out thready running roots all
round, a foot or more long; these, if not checked, establish new bases
of operation, and so it goes on, always spreading farther and farther.
When this happens in soft ground that can be hoed and weeded it matters
less, but in the lawn it is a more serious matter. Its presence always
denotes a poor, sandy soil of rather a sour quality.
Goutweed is a pest in nearly all gardens, and very difficult to get out.
When it runs into the root of some patch of hardy plant, if the plant
can be spared, I find it best to send it at once to the burn-heap; or if
it is too precious, there is nothing for it but to cut it all up and
wash it out, to be sure that not the smallest particle of the enemy
remains. Some weeds are deceiving--Sow-thistle, for instance, which has
the look of promising firm hand-hold and easy extraction, but has a
disappointing way of almost always breaking short off at the collar. But
of all the garden weeds that are native plants I know none so persistent
or so insidious as the Rampion Bell-flower (_Campanula Rapunculus_); it
grows from the smallest thread of root, and it is almost impossible to
see every little bit; for though the main roots are thick, and white,
and fleshy, the fine side roots that run far abroad are very small, and
of a reddish colour, and easily hidden in the brown earth.
But some of the worst garden-weeds are exotics run wild. The common
Grape Hyacinth sometimes overruns a garden and cannot be got rid of.
_Sambucus ebulis_ is a plant to beware of, its long thong-like roots
spreading far and wide, and coming up again far away from the parent
stock. For this reason it is valuable for planting in such places as
newly-made pond-heads, helping to tie the bank together. _Polygonum
Sieboldi_ must also be planted with caution. The winter Heliotrope
(_Petasites fragrans_) is almost impossible to get out when once it has
taken hold, growing in the same way as its near relative the native
Coltsfoot.
But by far the most difficult plant to abolish or even keep in check
that I know is _Ornithogalum nutans_. Beautiful as it is, and valuable
as a cut flower, I will not have it in the garden. I think I may venture
to say that in this soil, when once established, it cannot be
eradicated. Each mature bulb makes a host of offsets, and the seed
quickly ripens. When it is once in a garden it will suddenly appear in
all sorts of different places. It is no use trying to dig it out. I have
dug out the whole space of soil containing the patch, a barrow-load at a
time, and sent it to the middle of the burn-heap, and put in fresh soil,
and there it is again next year, nearly as thick as ever. I have dug up
individual small patches with the greatest care, and got out every bulb
and offset, and every bit of the whitish leaf stem, for I have such
faith in its power of reproduction that I think every atom of this is
capable of making a plant, only to find next year a thriving young tuft
of the "grass" in the same place. And yet the bulb and underground stem
are white, and the earth is brown, and I passed it all several times
through my fingers, but all in vain. I confess that it beats me
entirely.
_Coronilla varia_ is a little plant that appears in catalogues among
desirable Alpines, but is a very "rooty" and troublesome thing, and
scarcely good enough for garden use, though pretty in a grassy bank
where its rambling ways would not be objectionable. I once brought home
from Brittany some roots of _Linaria repens_, that looked charming by a
roadside, and planted them in a bit of Alpine garden, a planting that I
never afterwards ceased to regret.
I learnt from an old farmer a good way of getting rid of a bed of
nettles--to thrash them down with a stick every time they grow up. If
this is done about three times during the year, the root becomes so much
weakened that it is easily forked out, or if the treatment is gone on
with, the second year the nettles die. Thrashing with a stick is better
than cutting, as it makes the plant bleed more; any mutilation of bruise
or ragged tearing of fibre is more harmful to plant or tree than clean
cutting.
Of bird, beast, and insect pests we have plenty. First, and worst, are
rabbits. They will gnaw and nibble anything and everything that is
newly planted, even native things like Juniper, Scotch Fir, and Gorse.
The necessity of wiring everything newly planted adds greatly to the
labour and expense of the garden, and the unsightly grey wire-netting is
an unpleasant eyesore. When plants or bushes are well established the
rabbits leave them alone, though some families of plants are always
irresistible--Pinks and Carnations, for instance, and nearly all
Cruciferae, such as Wallflowers, Stocks, and Iberis. The only plants I
know that they do not touch are Rhododendrons and Azaleas; they leave
them for the hare, that is sure to get in every now and then, and who
stands up on his long hind-legs, and will eat Rose-bushes quite high up.
Plants eaten by a hare look as if they had been cut with a sharp knife;
there is no appearance of gnawing or nibbling, no ragged edges of wood
or frayed bark, but just a straight clean cut.
Field mice are very troublesome. Some years they will nibble off the
flower-buds of the Lent Hellebores; when they do this they have a
curious way of collecting them and laying them in heaps. I have no idea
why they do this, as they neither carry them away nor eat them
afterwards; there the heaps of buds lie till they rot or dry up. They
once stole all my Auricula seed in the same way. I had marked some good
plants for seed, cutting off all the other flowers as soon as they went
out of bloom. The seed was ripening, and I watched it daily, awaiting
the moment for harvesting. But a few days before it was ready I went
round and found the seed was all gone; it had been cut off at the top of
the stalk, so that the umbel-shaped heads had been taken away whole. I
looked about, and luckily found three slightly hollow places under the
bank at the back of the border where the seed-heads had been piled in
heaps. In this case it looked as if it had been stored for food; luckily
it was near enough to ripeness for me to save my crop.
The mice are also troublesome with newly-sown Peas, eating some
underground, while sparrows nibble off others when just sprouted; and
when outdoor Grapes are ripening mice run up the walls and eat them.
Even when the Grapes are tied in oiled canvas bags they will eat through
the bags to get at them, though I have never known them to gnaw through
the newspaper bags that I now use in preference, and that ripen the
Grapes as well. I am not sure whether it is mice or birds that pick off
the flowers of the big bunch Primroses, but am inclined to think it is
mice, because the stalks are cut low down.
Pheasants are very bad gardeners; what they seem to enjoy most are
Crocuses--in fact, it is no use planting them. I had once a nice
collection of Crocus species. They were in separate patches, all along
the edge of one border, in a sheltered part of the garden, where
pheasants did not often come. One day when I came to see my Crocuses, I
found where each patch had been a basin-shaped excavation and a few
fragments of stalk or some part of the plant. They had begun at one end
and worked steadily along, clearing them right out. They also destroyed
a long bed of _Anemone fulgens_. First they took the flowers, and then
the leaves, and lastly pecked up and ate the roots.
But we have one grand consolation in having no slugs, at least hardly
any that are truly indigenous; they do not like our dry, sandy heaths.
Friends are very generous in sending them with plants, so that we have a
moderate number that hang about frames and pot plants, though nothing
much to boast of; but they never trouble seedlings in the open ground,
and for this I can never be too thankful.
Alas that the beautiful bullfinch should be so dire an enemy to
fruit-trees, and also the pretty little tits! but so it is; and it is a
sad sight to see a well-grown fruit-tree with all its fruit-buds pecked
out and lying under it on the ground in a thin green carpet. We had some
fine young cherry-trees in a small orchard that we cut down in despair
after they had been growing twelve years. They were too large to net,
and their space could not be spared just for the mischievous fun of the
birds.