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.]