BOOK II. THE GARDEN.

LETTER VII.

PLANTING A REGULAR GEOMETRICAL FLOWER-GARDEN.--LIST OF PLANTS.--MODE

OF LAYING OUT REGULAR FIGURES ON THE GROUND.--RULES FOR ARRANGING

COLOURS.--PLANTING SIDE BEDS.--PLANTS WITH FRAGRANT FLOWERS.--CULTURE

OF BULBS.--RESERVE GROUND.--CULTURE OF ANNUALS, PERENNIALS, AND

BIENNIALS.--HOTBEDS AND FRAMES FOR RAISING AND KEEPING HALF-HARDY

FLOWERS.

It gives me great pain, my dear Annie, to find that you still think

that you shall never like the country so well as town. I do not,

however, despair; for I am convinced that you do not at present know

whether you shall like it or not. The pleasures of the town and the

country are, indeed, so different, that it requires some time to

become accustomed to the change; but, when you are sufficiently well

acquainted with country pursuits to take an interest in them, I am

sure you will never feel any want of the pleasures of the town. The

great secret of being happy is, to be able to occupy ourselves with the

objects around us, so as to feel an interest in watching their changes;

and, when you can once do this in your present situation, you will

no longer complain of dulness or want of excitement. To be convinced

of the truth of what I say, you need only remember the pleasure your

friend Mrs. P. C. takes in the cultivation of her garden; the interest

with which she watches the opening of her flowers, the coming up of the

seeds she has sown, and the growth of the trees she has planted. It is

not the positive beauty of these things that occasions the pleasure

she experiences in them, but the interest they have created in her

mind; for the entomologist will find pleasure in the most hideous

caterpillars, and the geologist will pass whole days delightfully among

barren rocks. All that is wanted to give an interest in any subject

is, a sufficient degree of knowledge respecting it to be aware of its

changes, and our own natural love of variety will do the rest.

It is a great advantage in a country life, that its principal objects

of interest must be found at home; and hence, as home is woman's

peculiar dominion, the noblest and the best feelings of the female

heart are more likely to be called into action in the country than in

the town. In youth, especially, the ameliorating effects of country

pursuits will soon be perceptible, both morally and physically; and

your health, which has always been delicate in a town, will, I have

no doubt, in the country become positively robust. As the first step

towards the attainment of this desirable object, let me recommend to

you to have a flower-garden laid out as near the house as possible. I

should like to have those cedars, and the remainder of those gloomy

firs, cleared away, which I see close to your house in your sketches,

and your flower-garden so placed that you could step into it at once

from the windows of your usual sitting-room. I hope that this may soon

be the case, and, as I must have a _locale_ to make my descriptions

understood, I will proceed to give you some hints as to the laying out

and planting of such a garden as I should like you to have in the warm

and sheltered corner under the southern window of your morning room.

In the first place, it will be absolutely necessary that the remainder

of the trees should be not only cut down, but grubbed up; as it will be

quite impossible for any flowers to grow under the shade of tall thick

trees, and leaving the roots would prevent the possibility of digging

the ground. In other respects the situation is admirably adapted for

the purpose, as it is open to the south and south-east, and protected

from the north and north-west. Supposing the Scotch pines and cedars to

have been cut down, their roots to have been grubbed up, and the ground

to have been dug over and levelled, the next thing is to determine

upon the plan for the garden. I think it should certainly be a regular

geometric figure, and planted in masses, each bed containing flowers of

one kind, so as to produce something of the effect of a Turkey carpet

when looked down upon from the windows of the house. I enclose you a

design which I think will suit the situation, and I will adapt what I

have to say to it, though my observations may easily be made suitable

to another plan, if another should be found more desirable.

We will suppose the plan (fig. 7.) to consist of twelve flower-beds on

grass, with a gravel walk round, which may be bordered on the side next

your room by beds for flowers, with little gravel openings opposite

each of your windows; or be plain gravel, as you like. There may be a

conservatory into which the drawingroom windows facing the south may

open, and on the other side a shrubbery to unite the garden with the

lawn. In the centre of the flower-garden there may be a fountain; and,

as the flower-garden is to be seen principally from your windows, the

beds nearest you should be planted with dwarf flowers, so that those

in the back beds may be seen. I should also advise the shrubbery behind

to consist of laurustinus and arbutus, so as to furnish a handsome

green back-ground to the flowers in summer, and yet to afford a few

flowers themselves in winter and spring, when flowers are scarce in the

beds.

[Illustration: Fig. 7. _Plan for a Flower-Garden._]

I will now tell you how I would plant the beds. As this is the

beginning of May, and as I wish your garden to look well immediately,

I would advise you to get a few pots of Californian and other annuals,

usually raised in pots, from the nurseryman at the neighbouring town,

and to plant them, putting three potfuls in each bed, but no more.

In No. 1. put Phlóx Drummóndi, the flowers of which are crimson of

various shades, and let the stems be pegged down, so as to spread over

the bed. No. 2. may be Lasthènia califórnica, the flowers of which

are yellow, and the stems generally procumbent; but they may be pegged

down to keep them in their proper places, that is, to spread completely

and regularly over the bed. No. 3. should be Nemóphila insígnis, the

flowers of which are of a beautiful blue, and which will not require

pegging down. No. 4. may be Erýsimum Perofskiànum, the flowers of which

are of a bright orange, but the stems must be pegged down, or they

will grow tall and straggling. No. 5. may be Nolàna atriplicifòlia,

the flowers of which are blue, and resemble those of a convolvulus;

this is a procumbent plant, and will not require pegging. No. 6. may

be Nemóphila atomària, which has white flowers, and is a dwarf plant.

No. 7. may be Leptosìphon densiflòrus, a dwarf plant, with pale purple

flowers. No. 8. may be Gília bícolor, a dwarf plant, with nearly white

flowers. No. 9. may be Clintònia pulchélla, a beautiful little plant

with blue flowers. No. 10. may be Gília trícolor, a dwarf plant,

the flowers of which are white and very dark purple. No. 11. may be

Leptosìphon androsàceus, a dwarf plant, with pale lilac flowers: and

No. 12. Schizopétalon Wálkeri, the flowers of which are white, and the

stems must be pegged down. These are all annuals, which if properly

treated by pegging down, and not planted too close, will produce a mass

of flowers in each bed only just above the surface, and will have a

very pretty effect from the windows. Most of them like a poor clayey

soil best, and they will only require turning out of the pots without

breaking the ball, into the places prepared for them.

If you think there are too many white beds, you can substitute

Sanvitàlia procúmbens, the flowers of which are yellow, for No. 8.,

but the seeds must have been sown the previous autumn to bring it

forward, as otherwise it will not flower till late in the summer;

and Bartònia aúrea, the flowers of which are of a golden yellow, may

be planted instead of No. 12. Cladánthus arábicus, formerly called

Ànthemis arábica, which has yellow flowers, may be planted in No. 8.,

if Sanvitàlia cannot be obtained.

I do not think you have ever told me what soil yours is, and perhaps

you hardly know. You will, however, easily recognise gravel or chalk;

if the soil be red, it is probably, if loose, a sand, and if close, a

marl; a peaty soil is black and loose; and a clay may be known by water

standing in little pools after rain, without running off. This is one

of the worst soils for gardening purposes; but it may be improved by

mixing it with sand.

I shall now give you a list of half-hardy plants for autumn, as most

of the annuals will begin to look shabby in July or the beginning of

August. No. 1. Verbèna Melíndres, bright scarlet; No. 2. Œnothèra

Drummóndi, yellow; No. 3. Lobèlia bícolor, blue; No. 4. Calceolària

rugòsa, pegged down; No. 5. Verbèna Tweediàna, crimson; No. 6. common

White Petunia; No. 7. Verbèna Arraniàna, or Henderson's purple; No.

8. Calceolària integrifòlia, yellow; No. 9. Purple Petunia; No. 10.

Verbèna teucrioìdes, white; No. 11. Frogmore Pelargonium, bright

scarlet; No. 12. Musk plant, yellow.

In October the following bulbs and other plants may be put in for

flowering in early spring. No. 1. Von Thol Tulips; No. 2. Cloth of

Gold, or common Yellow Crocuses; No. 3. Blue Hepatica; No. 4. Yellow

Crocuses, or White Anemone; No. 5. Scílla vérna and sibírica, blue; No.

6. Àrabis álbida, white; No. 7. Double Pink Hepatica; No. 8. Winter

Aconite; No. 9. Purple Crocuses; No. 10. Snowdrops; No. 11. Primroses;

No. 12. White Hepatica, or Àrabis alpìna.

If you do not like the plan for a garden which I have sent you, you can

draw one according to your own fancy, of any figure you like; but, as

I believe you have not yet a regular gardener, it will be necessary to

teach you how to transfer the plan you have decided upon from the paper

to the ground. In the first place, the ground must be dug over, raked,

and made perfectly smooth. The pattern, if a complicated one, must then

be drawn on Berlin paper, which is covered with regular squares, and

the ground to be laid out must be covered with similar squares, but

larger; the usual proportion being that a square inch on the paper

represents a square foot on the ground. The squares on the ground are

usually formed by sticking in wooden pegs at regular distances, and

fastening strings, from peg to peg, till the whole ground is covered

with a kind of latticework of string. Each string is then chalked, and

made to thrill by pulling it up sharply and letting it go again, which

transfers the chalk from the string to the ground. When the ground is

thus covered with white squares, it is easy to trace upon it, with

a sharp-pointed stick, any pattern which may have been drawn on the

paper; the portion in each square on the ground being copied on a

larger scale from that of the corresponding square on the paper.

[Illustration: Fig. 8. _Plan for a Flower-Garden._]

Simple patterns (fig. 8.), consisting of straight lines, need only

to be measured, and pieces of string stretched from pegs put in at

the proper distances, so as to form straight lines, oblongs, squares,

triangles, or diamonds. If a circle is to be traced, it is done by

getting a piece of string half the length of the diameter of the

circle, with a piece of stick tied to each end. One stick is then

driven into the ground in the centre of the circle, and a line is

traced with a stick at the other extremity of the string which is

drawn out quite tight. An oval is made by tracing two circles, the

circumscribing line of one of which just touches the centre of the

other; short lines are afterwards made at the top and bottom, and the

central lines are obliterated. A square only requires a peg at each

corner, with a chalked string drawn from peg to peg; and an oblong, or

parallelogram, is made by joining two common squares, and taking off

the corners if required.

[Illustration: Fig. 9.]

A heart-shaped pattern (fig. 9.) is made by drawing a straight line

from _a_ to _b_, and then fixing a peg with a string tied to it, half

the length of the straight line, and another peg at the end, exactly in

the middle of the line, and drawing a half-circle with it; then taking

a peg with a string half the length of the other, and another peg tied

to the end, and tracing with it the smaller half-circles, _c_ and _d_.

With the same strings and pegs you may easily trace, or rather have

traced, figs. 10 and 11. Even the latter, which appears at first sight

a very difficult figure to form on the ground, will be just as easily

traced as the others. You will observe, that in all these figures the

straight line is only to serve as a guide to show the proper places for

fixing the pegs; and that it is only to be formed by a piece of string

stretched by pegs from one end of the figure to the other, which is to

be removed as soon as the figure is sketched, and which is not to be

traced on the ground at all.

[Illustration: Fig. 10.]

[Illustration: Fig. 11.]

With the aid of these figures, and the pegs and strings, several very

complicated gardens may be formed; for instance, that shown in fig. 12.

This garden is composed of a bed in the centre for a tree rose with a

circle of dwarf roses; a gravel walk surrounds these; and there are

five heart-shaped beds, which may be planted with Scarlet Pelargoniums,

yellow Calceolarias, Petunias white and purple, and tall yellow

Mimulus; and the crescent-shaped beds, which are on grass, may all

be planted with different kinds of Verbenas. This plan is also a good

design for a rosery, the roses to be planted in the beds, and in the

half crescents which must be on grass, with gravel walks between the

grass plots.

[Illustration: Fig. 12. _Plan for a Flower-Garden._]

All the beds intended for bulbs and half-hardy plants should be

particularly well drained; and the best way of doing this is, to dig

out the soil to the depth of two feet or more, and then to put in a

layer of brick-bats and other rubbish, to the depth of nine inches

or a foot. On this should be placed a layer of rich marly soil, in

which the bulbs should be planted. Dahlias, hollyhocks, and other

tall-growing, showy-flowered plants, may have similar beds prepared

for them, but the soil should be made very rich by the addition of the

remains of an old hotbed, or some other kind of half-rotten animal

manure.

You will observe, that when I give directions for planting the beds in

any of the plans I send you, I merely say what may be done, and not

what is absolutely necessary. Indeed, it will be better for you to vary

the flowers as much as possible, according to your own taste, provided

you take care that the plants are, as nearly as you can contrive it, of

the same height, or that they rise gradually, and that you contrast the

colours well. The rule in the latter case is, always to put one of the

primitive colours (red, blue, or yellow) next another of these colours,

or some colour compounded of the other two; using white wherever you

cannot find any handsome plants of a colour that will suit the bed you

want them for. Thus, for example, if you plant one bed with red, you

may plant the next with blue, yellow, green, hair-brown, or white, but

never with any shade of purple, as red enters into the composition

of that colour; nor with any shade of reddish brown: purple, indeed,

must always be next yellow, hair-brown, or white, but never next blue,

red-brown, or red. Orange will not look well near yellow or red; and

lilac must not approach blue or pink. A little practice will do more

than any lengthened details; generally speaking, you may take the same

taste to guide you in arranging the colours of the flowers in your

parterre, that you use in choosing the colours of your dresses; and if

you are in any doubt, you have only to colour the beds in the plan, and

see how they look; or to stick coloured wafers on a piece of paper for

the same purpose.

When you have settled what to plant in the beds of your garden,

supposing you to choose the plan fig. 7., you must next think of the

beds round it. I should advise these to remain unplanted, unless they

are sown with mignonette, or something of that kind. The shrubberies,

I have already stated, should, I think, consist chiefly of the finer

kinds of hardy evergreens; at least that should which is opposite the

windows of your sitting-room. The other shrubbery, which is intended

to unite the garden scenery with that of the park, may be planted with

rhododendrons, acacias, and kalmias; the rhododendrons being farthest

from the walk, and carried a little out into the park, so as to make a

broken line, projecting in some places and receding in others, and here

and there mixed with bushes of phillyrea, alaternus, holly of various

kinds, and cratægus, so as gradually to mingle with the clumps of

trees in the park. On the side next your room, if there are to be beds

under the windows, there should be spaces left in them which should

be gravelled so that you may throw the window open, and not only walk

out on gravel, but walk round the garden on gravel also. This you will

find a great convenience if the weather should be wet, though you must

not mind going upon the grass, if you are to be a real gardener, and

to attend to the flowers in the regular beds. With regard to the beds

near the house, I would have a Lonícera flexuòsa trained over each

window, on account of its delightful fragrance in summer; for a similar

reason I would have Chimonánthus fràgrans against the walls between the

windows, and mignonette and violets in the beds.

I think nothing can be more delightful than to throw open your window,

and to inhale a refreshing odour from growing flowers when they are

swept over by a balmy breeze, particularly after a slight shower; and,

for this purpose, I would strongly recommend you to plant flowers near

your windows which have a refreshing, but not a heavy, scent. The

flowers of the evergreen magnolia, and those of the orange, have an

oppressive fragrance, as have those of the heliotrope and the tuberose;

but those of the mignonette, the lemon-scented verbena, the rose, the

violet, and Lonícera flexuòsa are refreshing, at the same time that

they yield a delicious perfume.

I must now give you some hints on cultivating your flowers. To begin

with the _bulbs_, as they flower first in spring. The crocuses and

snowdrops should be planted, five or six together, as close as

possible, so as to form little tufts; and these, when once planted,

should never be removed, unless they should grow out of bounds, so as

to spoil the shape of the bed. The tulips, on the contrary, should be

taken up as soon as their leaves begin to decay, and kept in a dry

place till the proper time for planting them next year.

You must observe that there are three kinds of plants which are said

to have bulbous roots: those which are solid, and which should be

properly called corms, such as the crocus, the corn-flag, and many of

the half-hardy plants with similar half-tubular flowers; the tunicated

bulbs, which consist of a number of distinct layers, called tunics,

that may be peeled off, such as the onion, the hyacinth, and the tulip;

and the scaly bulbs such as the lily. Now the real roots of all these

plants are the long fibres sent down by the lower part of the bulb,

which may be seen plainly in hyacinths grown in glasses, and in any

of the kinds if taken up while in a growing state; and what is called

the bulb is, in all the corms, only a contracted stem; but, in the

tunicated and scaly bulbs, the bulbous part is formed of a contracted

stem and metamorphosed leaves. If you will take the trouble to examine

a hyacinth, you will find at the base of the bulb a flat fleshy

substance, called the root-plate, and this is, in fact, the contracted

stem of the plant; while the tunics are metamorphosed leaves. In the

scaly bulbs the stem is plainly perceptible in the centre, and the

scales are evidently metamorphosed leaves. You will easily remember

these distinctions, and you will find it useful to attend to them in

cultivating your garden, as all plants having corms never flower well

till they have been allowed to form a mass, which they will not do till

they have been in the ground three or four years.

Many persons fancy that the Cape bulbs require to be taken up every

year, but this is altogether a mistake: all the kinds of gladiolus,

ixia, tritonia, and other similar plants, will live in the open ground,

and flower well, if suffered to grow in masses, which would be killed

by a single English winter if planted separately. The finest bed of the

scarlet gladiolus I ever saw was at Blair-Adam, near Stirling, where

it was suffered to remain year after year without alteration; and the

Honourable and Reverend William Herbert, now Dean of Manchester, in

his celebrated work on the Amaryllidàceæ, states that he has had beds

of gladiolus, ixia, tritonia, and other Cape bulbs, at Spofforth in

Yorkshire, which have remained for several years, without protection,

in the open ground. Some persons say that, by manuring the beds every

year, tulips and hyacinths may also be grown in the same beds without

taking up, for several years in succession; but this I have never seen

tried.

You must observe that you have no chance of keeping your flower-garden

in a proper state, unless you have in some retired place what is

called a _reserve-garden_, in which the plants may be brought forward

till they are in a proper state for transplanting into the proper

flower-garden. This reserve-garden is generally placed near the stable,

both to have it out of sight, and for the convenience of manure; as it

must contain hotbeds and frames, for rearing tender annuals, striking

cuttings, and, in short, for performing all those gardening operations

which require to be carried on behind the scenes.

In this reserve-garden you must bring forward your _Californian

annuals_; and for this purpose choose a piece of hard ground, a walk

will do, or any place that has been much trodden on, and cover it

about an inch thick with light rich soil. In this the seeds of the

annuals should be sown the first week in September, and suffered to

remain till the bulbs have faded, and the annuals are wanted to cover

the beds, which will probably be about April. The annuals must then

be taken up with the spade, in patches, and being removed to the

flower-garden, they must be laid carefully on the beds, so as to cover

them exactly; the spaces between the patches being filled with soil,

and pressed gently down, so that the surface of the beds may be as

even as possible. These annuals will come into blossom in May, but

they are killed by the dry heat of summer; and, though they would sow

themselves if permitted to seed, it is better to remove them as soon

as they have done flowering. It is always a bad plan to permit annuals

to sow themselves; as early in autumn, when the plants have done

flowering, the ground not only becomes rough, but it is covered with

dead stalks and leaves, which have always a most miserable and desolate

appearance; and these cannot be removed till the seed has fallen, while

the beds must not be forked over and raked for fear of destroying the

seedlings. It is therefore much better, as soon as the annuals have

done flowering, to take them up, and throw them away; a supply of seed

being preserved by having left some plants in the reserve-ground for

that purpose. A second or spring sowing of the Californian annuals may

be made in the reserve-ground, to be ready for use in case any should

be wanted to flower in the autumn.

Though I have only advised you to have Californian annuals in your

beds, I may here say a few words on the culture of _annuals_ generally.

You are, of course, aware that what are called annuals are plants

that live only one year, or, rather, only a few months; for they are

generally sown early in spring, and die as soon as they have ripened

their seeds, at the latter end of summer, or the beginning of autumn.

These plants are of three kinds; viz., hardy, half-hardy, and tender.

The _hardy annuals_ are sown in March, April, or May; but the first

month is to be preferred, if the weather is tolerably open. The ground

in which they are to be sown is first forked over and raked, and a

little round firm place having been made by pressing the bottom of the

saucer of a flower-pot on the ground, a few seeds are scattered over

it, taking great care that the seeds do not lie one upon another. The

seeds are then firmed, as the gardeners call it, by pressing the saucer

again upon them, and some earth is strewed lightly over to finish the

operation. You will observe, that, though I have recommended you to

take the saucer of a flower-pot to firm the ground, both before and

after sowing your seeds, regular gardeners perform this part of the

operation with their spades, and farmers roll their land before they

sow their seeds. The principle, however, is the same in all; and it is

that every seed requires to be securely fixed in the ground before it

begins to germinate, in order to produce a strong and healthy plant.

After the seeds are sown, it is customary to put a piece of stick into

the ground, with the name of the seeds written upon it, to mark the

place; or, if you like it better, you can write the name on a card, or

a bit of pasteboard, and stick it in a notch or cleft cut in the stick.

When the seeds have come up, which, in the spring, is generally from

a fortnight to six weeks after sowing, according to their nature, the

seedlings may be thinned out, and the supernumerary plants either

transplanted or thrown away. If the seedlings are to be transplanted,

care should be taken not to break or injure the roots, and a little

hole should be made with a stick for each seedling in the place to

which it is to be removed; the earth being pressed close to the root at

the bottom of the hole before the rest is filled in; as, if any hollow

place is left round the root, it is sure to decay instead of growing.

Seedling hardy annuals are, however, very seldom worth the trouble

of transplanting. Many persons turn a flower-pot over every patch of

seeds, from the idea that it will make them come up sooner, and protect

them from the birds. It is, however, a very bad plan, as air and light

are particularly necessary to seedling plants; and when they are even

partially deprived of these important agents, they become drawn up

with weak slender stems, and thin discoloured leaves.

Some annuals, such as the mignonette and the larkspur, are much longer

before they vegetate than others; and these are better sown in autumn.

Others, such as the escholtzia, the coreopsis, and the Erýsimum

Perowskiànum, will often last two or three years, especially if they

happen to be late in flowering the first season. They also do best

sown in autumn, but they must be protected, if the winter should be

very severe, by laying a mat over the bed. You must observe, however,

that the mat must only be resorted to in frosty weather, as, in case

the weather should be at all damp, the plants will be much better

exposed to it, however cold it may feel, than they would be under any

protection whatever.

The _half-hardy annuals_, such as the French and African marigolds, the

German and China asters, the zinnias, the purple jacobæa, the sweet

sultan, the purple and yellow everlastings, and other similar plants,

should be sown in pots, and plunged into a slight hotbed in February

or March. As soon as they come up, and have got their second pair of

leaves, the earth should be turned out of the pot, and the seedlings

being carefully picked out should be transplanted into other pots,

three or five in each, according to the size they are expected to

attain when full grown, and the pots again plunged into the hotbed.

Sometimes they are transplanted a second time, but they are generally

left till the beginning of May, when they are removed to the open

border, to the places where they are intended to flower. When they are

planted in the border, they may either be transplanted in the ordinary

way, or the ball of earth may be turned entire from the pot into a hole

made to receive it. This last plan is generally considered the best,

as it prevents the plants from receiving any check by their removal.

Brompton ten-week, and German stocks, though quite hardy, make better

plants when treated like half-hardy annuals, as they flower earlier and

much more vigorously.

_Tender annuals_, such as balsams, cock's-combs, globe amaranths,

&c., must be sown in February or March in pots of light rich earth,

and plunged in a hotbed. As soon as the plants come up they should be

transplanted into pots of the very smallest size, one in each pot; and

these small pots should be set in the hotbed again, as near the glass

as possible, and slightly shaded during sunshine. In a week or two,

as soon as the roots have made their appearance on the outside of the

ball of earth within the pot, which is known by turning the ball of

earth with the plant in it carefully out of the pot without breaking

it, the plants are shifted into pots a size larger than what they were

in before, and the space filled up with light rich soil. In another

week or two the plants must be shifted again into pots a little larger,

always using light rich mould to fill up the pots, and taking care

that the pots are well drained, by putting potsherds, that is, pieces

of broken pot at the bottom. As soon as the plants are shifted, the

pots must be replunged in the hotbed, and shaded for the remainder of

the day. The shifting and replunging must be continued till the plants

begin to show flower-buds; after which they must neither be shifted nor

plunged in the hotbed any more, but gradually hardened, by the frame

in which they are placed being left open all day, and, at last, only

partially closed, even at night, till the plants will bear setting out

entirely in the open air; unless they should be intended to flower in a

greenhouse, in which case they may be removed to the greenhouse as soon

as they have formed flower-buds.

As I shall treat of the management of the greenhouse plants, which are

to succeed the annuals, in my next, I may as well fill up my present

letter by saying a few words on the management of hardy perennials, in

case you should prefer planting biennials and perennials in your beds

at once, to going through the routine that I have marked out for you in

the former part of this letter.

_Perennials_ are those permanent plants which are not woody, and yet

remain in the ground as long as most kinds of shrubs, producing flowers

and seeds every year. Perennials are of two kinds: those that die down

to the ground every autumn, and send up fresh stems from the root the

following spring; and those which remain green all the year, as, for

example, the pinks and carnations. Besides these kinds, there are other

sorts of perennials, as, for example, those that have tuberous roots,

such as the dahlia. Bulbs are also perennials; but of these I have

already spoken.

Most kinds of perennials are propagated by dividing the roots; but,

in the case of the dahlia, ranunculus, and anemone, care must be

taken to choose only those portions of the tubers that have buds or

eyes, as they are called, as otherwise the tuber, though it will

send out fibrous roots, will never produce a stem; and, in dividing

fibrous-rooted plants, care must be taken that the divided part is

furnished with buds. Almost all kinds of perennials may also be

propagated by cuttings; and those of pinks and carnations are called

pipings, because, instead of being cut, they are pulled asunder at a

joint, and this gives the separated parts a hollow appearance like

small pipes. Tubers are frequently taken up every autumn; and those of

the ranunculus and anemone are replanted in November or January, the

former season being much to be preferred. The tubers of the dahlia are

generally taken up in November, and replanted in May or June.

Most perennials are improved by taking them up occasionally and

replanting them in another place. This used to be accounted for by

supposing that plants threw out excrementitious matter, which, after a

few years, poisoned the soil in which they grew; but it is now supposed

that, as every plant requires peculiar earths for its nourishment,

they must be removed when they have exhausted all the particular

kind of earth they want which lies within their reach. It is rather

difficult to explain this without entering into long details; but it

will be sufficient for our present purpose merely to state the fact,

that plants do require their roots to have a constant supply of fresh

earth; and, to meet this want, nature has provided that the roots of

trees, and of all plants that are intended to remain for several years

in the soil, elongate themselves every year, so as to be continually

able to obtain a fresh supply of nourishment. In gardens, however, the

constant digging that is going on for the culture of annual plants

is unfavourable to the elongation of the roots of the perennials,

and consequently it is absolutely necessary that those plants should

occasionally be taken up and replanted. The season for taking up and

replanting perennial plants is either in autumn, after they have done

growing, or in spring, before they begin to shoot; and, if the soil

about the roots looks black and wet, or, as the gardeners express it,

sour, the roots should be washed quite clean before replanting. When

the roots of plants are divided, it is either done with a sharp spade

or a knife, care being taken in both cases to make what is called a

clean cut, and not to leave any part bruised or jagged.

_Biennials_ are plants raised from seeds, which do not flower till the

second year, but which generally die as soon as they have ripened their

seeds. Biennials are usually sown in a bed of light rich earth in the

open air in the reserve-ground, and then transplanted in September to

the place where they are to flower the ensuing year. The finer kinds,

such as the Brompton stocks and hollyhocks, should have a bed or pit

prepared for them, of rich loamy soil, in which they are planted, with

a small quantity of manure. Wallflowers, snapdragons, and Canterbury

bells do not require any further care than transplanting to the border;

and, though they are called biennials, they will frequently live and

flower three or four successive years.

A _hotbed_ may be made of any material that will ferment, so as to

produce heat. Stable manure and dead leaves are, however, generally

preferred to all other materials; and stable manure is unquestionably

the best. A cart-load of this manure will make a hotbed sufficiently

large for rearing tender annuals; but as, when it is taken out of the

stable, it consists partly of the dung of the horse, and partly of what

is called long litter, that is, straw moistened and discoloured, but

not decayed, it must first be thrown together, so as to form a heap

till the straw is decomposed. A most violent heat is produced by the

fermentation of the straw while decomposing; and, as this heat would

be too much for any plant exposed to it, it is absolutely necessary to

let the heap remain for about a fortnight, turning it over two or three

times during that period with a fork, till the straw is sufficiently

decomposed to be easily torn to pieces with the dung fork. When the

manure is in this state it is fit for use. The hotbed should be formed

in an open situation, on a surface raised about six inches from the

surrounding ground, with a gutter or shallow ditch cut round it, to

allow the water to drain off. The bed is then made; and, if only

intended for raising annuals and striking cuttings, it may be five feet

long by four feet wide. The manure should be first regularly spread

over the lower part of the bed, and then continued, in successive

layers, made as smooth and level as possible, till the whole of the

cart-load of manure has been used.

As soon as the bed is finished the frame should be set on it. The

frame consists of a box without a bottom, and with a movable top,

formed of a glazed sash or sashes. A frame for a bed of the size I have

mentioned will only require one sash, or light as the gardeners call

it; and it should be three feet wide and four feet long, so that the

bed may be half a foot larger than the frame on every side. The back of

the box may be two feet high, and the front one foot, so that the glass

may slope from the back to the front. About two days after the bed is

made, the fermentation will recommence, and a steam will be observable

on the glass. The surface of the bed should now be covered two or three

inches thick with light garden mould, and any common seeds may be sown

in this. It is more general, however, to sow the seeds in pots, and

then either to set them on the surface of the bed, or to plunge them

into it up to the rim. No bed for raising annuals should ever be hotter

than 60°, and when it exceeds this heat the glasses should be left open

so as to cool it. The thermometer for ascertaining the heat should be

put on the surface of the bed, with the glass shut above it; and it

should be examined in this situation, as it will fall a degree or two

immediately on being taken into the open air, if the weather should be

very cold.

You will, of course, have your hotbed made in the reserve-ground;

and, as the one I have given directions for will be a very small

one, you will probably find it necessary to have one much larger

for your cuttings, or to have three or four small ones. I should

advise the latter course, as small hotbeds are much more easily

managed by inexperienced gardeners than large ones. A hotbed of two

or three lights will require two or three cart-loads of manure, and

will, of course, produce a great deal of heat from the immense mass

of fermenting materials it contains; and, as you would find this

additional quantity of heat very difficult to regulate, you might

chance, some fine morning, when you visited your plants, to see them

turned black, with their leaves shrivelled up, or, as the gardeners

term it, burnt, from the too great heat of the bed. There is also

danger of a hotbed getting too cold instead of being too hot, and, when

this is the case, the heat should be renewed by the application of dung

linings, that is, a quantity of fresh stable manure, round the outside

of the bed; or by having linings of dead leaves piled up round the

outside of the bed. If, however, you use your hotbeds only for raising

seeds, they will not want any linings; as it will be advantageous for

the young seedlings to let the beds gradually become cool as the plants

increase in size, so that they may acquire strength and hardiness

before they are turned into the open ground.

I will now say a few words on the _greenhouse plants_ that you will

want for planting in the open ground in your flower-garden. Petunias

may be all raised from seeds with the other half-hardy annuals; as

seedling plants both grow and flower much more vigorously when planted

out into the open ground, than plants that have been raised from layers

or cuttings. Célsia or Alonsòa urticifòlia may also be raised from

seeds; as may Thunbérgia alàta, and its white variety. Phlóx Drummóndi

is almost always raised in this manner; as are the beautiful climbing

plants, Lophospérmum scándens and its varieties, Maurándya Barclayàna,

Cobœa scándens, Eccremocárpus or Calámpelis scàbra, Rhodochìton

volùbile, the beautiful canary-bird flower (_Tropœ'olum peregrìnum_),

the most splendid of the ipomœas, and several other well-known plants.

Geraniums, or pelargoniums, as they are now more properly called,

being half-shrubby plants, require to be raised by cuttings. These are

generally taken off the points of the shoots in autumn; and, a good

many being put into one pot, they are plunged into the hotbed till

they have struck root, and then gradually hardened and placed on the

back shelf of a greenhouse, or in a cold frame, till the spring, when

they are removed to separate pots till they are wanted for planting

out. Some gardeners do not put themselves to the trouble of potting

them, but keep them in the same pots in which the cuttings were struck

till they are wanted for planting out; but this is a slovenly mode of

culture, as, when the plants are kept so long in one pot, they become

drawn up, and never have the compact bushy appearance that they have

when they are properly transplanted early in spring. Verbenas may be

either preserved by cuttings or layers, or raised afresh from seed.

The usual way of propagating them, however, is by layers, as they

strike root readily at the joints, if the joints are covered with a

little earth. All the other greenhouse plants which you may want to

grow for planting out may be treated in the same manner as those I have

mentioned.

A _cold frame_ is a bottomless box of the kind described for a hotbed,

but formed of brick or stone instead of wood. These frames have a glass

sash at the top, but contain no manure; and they are generally sunk in

the soil, that the warmth of the earth around may aid in protecting the

plants they contain from the frost. These frames, if they have only one

light, are generally five feet in width; that is, from the back to the

front; but, if they have two or three lights, the width is generally

seven feet, as these are the dimensions of the frames used for hotbeds

in kitchen-gardens. The greenhouse plants that are to be preserved in

the cold frame are merely set in their pots close together, and, the

glass sashes being then closed, mats and other coverings are laid on to

keep out the frost.

Sometimes greenhouse plants which are left in the open ground are

preserved from the frost by coverings of wicker-work like beehives

being put over them, or tin hoops over which mats have been stretched;

or, where the plants are small, a flower-pot may be turned over them,

or a hand-glass used for the same purpose. It is seldom, however,

worth while to take much pains to preserve greenhouse plants that

have flowered in the open air. The ordinary way is to make abundance

of cuttings in autumn; to strike them in a hotbed, and then, after

hardening them by degrees, to preserve them in a small greenhouse, or

in a cold pit, till the time for planting out next year.

LETTER VIII.

USE OF PLANT-HOUSES.--NATURE OF CLIMATES--DIFFERENT KINDS OF

HOTHOUSES.--THE DRY STOVE, THE BARK STOVE, AND THE ORCHIDEOUS

HOUSE.--CULTURE OF PLANTS IN THE BARK STOVE.--AQUARIUM AND WATER

PLANTS.--RED SPIDER.--CULTURE OF SUCCULENT STOVE PLANTS.--CULTURE

OF ORCHIDEOUS PLANTS.--THE GREENHOUSE.--THE AUSTRALIAN HOUSE, AND

CULTURE OF ITS PLANTS.--THE COMMON GREENHOUSE, THE HEATH HOUSE, THE

CONSERVATORY, THE ORANGERY, AND THE CAMELLIA HOUSE.--THE CULTURE OF

PLANTS IN THE COMMON GREEN HOUSE.--POTTING PLANTS.--HEATHS.--CULTURE

OF PLANTS IN THE CONSERVATORY.--CULTURE OF ORANGE TREES.--APHIDES.

Before I say any thing of the management of the plants in your

greenhouse, I must remind you that, in order to grow plants well, it

is not enough merely to preserve them from the frost, but we must

imitate as well as we can their native climate: that is, the degree

of heat, light, and moisture they have been accustomed to in their

native country, together with the air and the soil. The latter is the

easiest condition to fulfil; as, by combining different kinds of earth,

we can, without much difficulty, produce a very tolerable imitation

of any soil we please: but it is not so easy to give plants abundance

of light and air in combination with heat; and, though we can readily

give plants plenty of water, it requires some management to surround

them with a moist warm atmosphere, like that they have been used to

in their native woods. To meet these difficulties, buildings have

been constructed, suited for the reception of plants, with various

contrivances for producing heat and distributing air and moisture, and

with a glass roof, front, and sides, to admit abundance of light.

These structures are what we call plant-houses; and they are not

only divided into hothouses for tender plants, and greenhouses for

half-hardy plants, but subdivided into various kinds to suit the

various climates in which plants are found. These climates, however,

are not so numerous as might at first be supposed; as it is a curious

fact in the history of plants, that many of the most ornamental grow in

patches in some parts of the world without being found anywhere else,

as, for example, the pelargoniums or shrubby geraniums at the Cape of

Good Hope. Even when the same plant is found in different parts of

the world, it is generally in the same climate, though in different

countries; and thus pines and firs, oaks and birches, spread like belts

or zones round the globe, from Asia, through Europe, to America,

almost in the same degree of latitude, making an allowance for islands

being warmer than continents, and mountains colder than valleys; as you

must always remember that knowing the degree of latitude from which a

plant comes is not sufficient to teach its culture, unless we know also

whether it grows on the mountains or in the valleys, and whether the

climate of the locality is moist or dry. A plant will be soon killed

by a dry atmosphere, if it requires a moist one; and it will be as

much injured by being kept too hot as too cold. Furze and heath will

not grow within the tropics; and the first camellias introduced into

England were killed by being kept in a hothouse.

From what I have said, you will perceive that as plants will only

thrive in climates suitable to them, it is not enough to have a

hothouse for tropical plants, and a greenhouse for those of moderately

warm countries, but that you must have three or four houses imitating

different climates, if you wish to grow different kinds of plants to

perfection. Philosophers who have written on the subject describe

sixteen distinct kinds of climate, including our own; but, as these

would be too many to imitate, gardeners are obliged to content

themselves with the following kinds of plant-houses and pits.

The _dry stove_ is generally kept at a heat of from 70° to 84° in the

day, and never allowed to fall below 65° at night, even in winter. It

should be placed in a situation sheltered from cold winds, but quite

open to the sun; as the plants grown in it require a strong light,

most of them being natives of dry sandy plains, on which there is no

tree high enough to cast a shade. The plants are grown in pots, which

are generally placed on a frame or stage of wooden or stone shelves,

so as to have abundance of air around them; and the stove is best

heated by flues. The plants suitable for a stove of this kind are some

of the kinds of Cactàceæ, such as the genera Melocáctus, Epiphýllum,

and Cèreus, with the tender kinds of Euphórbium, Mesembryánthemum,

Stapèlia, Crássula, Sèdum, Sempervìvum, and Agàve, and some kinds of

bulbs.

The _bark stove_ has a brick pit filled with tan or dead leaves in the

centre; and it is generally heated with pipes of hot water or steam,

from 60° at night to 80° in the day; the pots in which the plants are

grown being either plunged in the tan, or placed on the walls of the

pit, or on a stone shelf near the glass in front. Sometimes the trees

of hot climates are grown in the bark bed in the centre without pots;

and sometimes there is no bark pit, but the space in the centre of

the house is filled with boxes containing tropical trees. This last

kind is frequently called the botanic stove, as it is most common in

botanic gardens; and it is best adapted for growing palms, and other

monocotyledonous plants with large leaves, such as bananas, which

require abundance of air and light.

The _damp stove_, or orchideous house, is only suited for orchideous

plants and exotic ferns. The heat should be from 70° at night to 90°

in the day, or even more; and the house should be heated with hot

flues, on which water should be thrown twice or three times a day,

and hot-water pipes with open tanks; as all the plants to be grown in

this kind of house require excessive heat and constant moisture. As

they are also plants that love the shade, the house should have only a

subdued light; and though I cannot say that I approve of the coloured

glass adopted by some cultivators, as it decomposes the rays of light,

and deprives the plants of a portion of the heat they would otherwise

derive from the sun, yet I would certainly advise that some of those

climbing plants which will grow in a moist warm climate should be

trained close under the glass, to produce shade.

_Forcing-houses_ for grapes and early stone fruits are of the nature of

the bark stove; and in them the pit in the centre is frequently filled

with pine-apple plants, in pots plunged up to the rim in the tan; but

these houses belong to the kitchen-garden, as do pits for growing

pines, cucumbers, and melons.

You will thus observe that there are only three distinct kinds of

hothouses in use in British gardens, viz. the damp stove, or orchideous

house, which is the hottest; the dry stove, or house for succulent

plants, which is the rarest; and the bark stove, which is the most

common, and which may be said to have two varieties, viz. the botanic

stove and the forcing-house.

_The culture of hothouse plants_ in the _bark stove_ requires more care

than can be expected from any one not a regular gardener; and, as most

tropical plants are valuable in this country, I would not advise you

to try to manage them yourself, as you would be very much vexed if you

should chance to kill them. I will, however, give you a few general

hints on the subject, if you should like to have a house of this kind.

All bark-stove plants require a great deal of water when they are in a

growing state, and, as it is necessary that the water should be of the

same temperature as the house, there should be either an open cistern

in the house, or a cistern in the shed behind, near the furnace, and

communicating with the house by a pipe. The best plan is to have a

cistern in the house, as it can be used as an aquarium; and there are

many beautiful tropical aquatics, such as the different species of

Nymphæ'a and Nelúmbium, which deserve growing for their beauty, while

others are interesting for their curiosity, such as the Papyrus. In

summer, bark-stove plants require very little care, except to prevent

them from receiving any sudden check, as, if the heat be not kept

up regularly, the plants are very liable to stop growing, and, when

the heat is renewed, to shoot a second time, and thus to waste their

strength in sickly and imperfect growth. Great care is also required

in autumn to increase the fire heat in proportion as the weather grows

cold, so as to prevent the plants from receiving any check from the

decrease of temperature in the atmospheric air, as tropical plants may

be said to have only two seasons, viz. summer and winter; and thus they

should be kept as nearly as possible at the same heat as long as they

are in a growing state; and then have a complete change to a season

of rest, by never letting the heat rise higher than from 60° to 65°

during the dark days of winter. During the winter months very little

air can be admitted, on account of the great difference between the

air of the atmosphere and that within the house; but in the spring,

advantage should be taken of every warm day, even in March and April,

to open the sashes a few inches wide for half an hour or an hour in the

middle of the day, when the sun shines; but the house should be shut

up immediately if the sun should go in and the air become chilled.

As the summer advances, air should be admitted freely, and continued

till the beginning of September, when it should be gradually reduced

till the cold of winter prevents any being given at all. Most gardeners

repot, or shift, as they call it, all their bark-stove plants about the

middle or end of April; but this is too indiscriminate a practice, and,

therefore, only those should be repotted that appear to want such an

operation.

One of the greatest difficulties attending the culture of plants in

a bark stove is, guarding against the ravages of the immense number

of insects that are engendered by the heat; and one of the most

troublesome of these is the active little mite called by gardeners the

red spider (_Àcarus telùrius_). This little pest breeds in the bark,

and when first hatched it is so small as to be scarcely perceptible;

particularly as it is of a pale green, nearly the colour of the under

side of the leaf, to which it fixes itself, and there spins a web. As

it gets older it becomes of a brownish red, and having eight legs, it

runs with the greatest rapidity. It is also furnished with a proboscis,

with which it sucks the juices of the leaves, making them wither and

shrivel up; and thus the flowers and the fruit of the trees are both

spoiled, as neither can attain perfection unless the sap that is to

nourish them be first properly matured in the leaves. Tobacco smoke,

and most of the other usual remedies against insects, have no effect

on the red spider; and, though sprinkling it with very cold water will

kill it, it is difficult to apply without injuring the plants. The best

remedy is allowing plenty of air to pass through the house, whenever

the weather is hot enough to allow the atmospheric air to be admitted

with safety.

The culture of the plants contained in the _dry stove_ requires

considerable care. The Cáctus family may be arranged in three groups;

first, the Tree Cacti, which are included in the genus Cèreus, and have

long slender stems without a single leaf, sometimes thirty or forty

feet high, and not thicker than a man's arm. These plants grow on the

summits of the mountains in Brazil, and only require greenhouse heat

in England. Secondly, the Mammillàriæ and Echinocácti, which grow in

the valleys of the temperate parts of South America, and should be kept

in a warm greenhouse in this country; and thirdly, the Melocácti, the

Epiphýllum, the Opúntiæ, and the Rhípsalis, which grow in the tropics,

and require a dry stove in England. These plants should be grown in

pots well drained with cinders, and they should be kept almost without

water from October till March, and then watered profusely till they are

about flowering, when the quantity of water given to them should be

gradually diminished. Some cultivators keep a few of their plants in a

bark stove, and plunge the pots in the tan, and they are said to thrive

on this treatment, if carefully managed; but as it requires a great

deal of care to prevent them from damping off, the ordinary way is the

safest for an inexperienced gardener. Mesembryanthemums, which are also

kept in a dry stove, require the same treatment as the Cácti.

The orchidaceous plants grown in a _damp stove_ are all epiphytes,

which, in their natural state, grow either on the branches of trees,

or on exposed rocks. The former of these are found in their wild state

with their roots hanging down in the air, and growing in dense forests,

where shade, moisture, and excessive heat are essential to their

existence. Most of these plants, in a state of culture, are grown in

the husks of cocoa-nuts, half filled with moss, from which the roots

hang down, or they are tied with wire to pieces of wood hung from the

rafters. The wood generally preferred for this purpose in England

is the robinia, or false acacia, on account of the roughness of its

bark, and the softness of its wood: and moss is generally put between

the epiphyte and log so as to make it quite compact. Some genera of

orchideous plants, such as Dendròbium, Epidéndrum, and Cattlèya, are

always grown in pots, which are filled with turfy peat, chopped moss,

and lime rubbish. Others, such as Stanhòpea and Catasètum, should be

grown in baskets half filled with moss, or in a curious kind of frame,

made of pieces of turf fastened between four upright pegs of wood; as

the flowers of these plants come from their roots, and they must be

allowed abundance of room to enable them to protrude properly. The

baskets or frames for the Stanhòpea and other root-flowering plants

should be from three to six inches deep, and from six to ten inches

wide; and the frames should be filled with strips of turf, two or three

inches wide, piled up on one another so as to fill the frame, and yet

leave a sufficient space between to admit the passage of the flower

stems which protrude downwards from the root. When orchideous plants

are grown in pots, the pots are drained with cinders, and then filled

with chopped turf mixed with lime rubbish to keep it open. The exotic

ferns grown in the same house require no particular care, except that

of potting them so as to insure perfect drainage, and keeping them

frequently syringed overhead.

There may be said to be five kinds of greenhouse; viz., the Australian

house, the common greenhouse, the heath house, the conservatory, and

the orangery, to which is sometimes added, the camellia house, though

these plants are generally kept in the conservatory.

The _Australian house_ contains all the curious New Holland plants,

such as Bánksia, Dryándra, Grevíllea, Melaleùca, Callistèmon,

Metrosidèros, and various genera belonging to the Leguminòsæ, together

with the Cape plants belonging to the Proteàceæ and Compósitæ. These

plants require a considerable degree of heat, and also as much air and

light as can be given to any plants which require shelter from the open

air. On this account they are generally grown in curvilinear houses,

that is, houses that have glass on all sides, like that in the garden

of the London Horticultural Society at Turnham Green. All the plants

contained in this house are extremely difficult to grow, and they

require the greatest care in watering, so that they may never have too

much, and yet never be suffered to become too dry. Houses of this kind

are generally heated by pipes of hot water, and kept at a temperature

of from 40° to 50° or 60°. There is no pit in the centre, and the

plants are either planted in the ground as in a conservatory, or kept

on a stage formed of wooden shelves.

The _common greenhouse_ has a brick wall at the back, with a glass roof

at an angle of about 45°, and upright glass at the front and sides. The

plants are grown in pots placed on a stage or range of wooden shelves

rising one above another, with a path all round, and a shelf for the

plants under the glass in front. All the sashes are made to open, as

it is essential that there should be a free circulation of air; and

so little fire is necessary, that one fireplace will be sufficient to

heat a greenhouse from thirty to forty feet long, and from twelve to

fifteen feet wide. The house may be heated either by hot-water pipes or

by flues; in the latter case the flue should go round at the front and

return at the back, being about twenty inches high and twelve inches

wide. The heat of a greenhouse of this nature need never be more than

50° in the day, and it may be allowed to sink even as low as 35° at

night, the object being merely to keep out the frost.

The _heath house_, like the Australian house, requires to be as

transparent, and as thoroughly ventilated, as possible. A heathery,

however, is generally a span-roofed house with a walk down the centre,

and shelves for the plants on each side. It is usually heated by hot

water, the pipes for conveying which are placed in the centre of the

house. The width of the house should be about ten feet, and the height

in the centre of the span should never exceed nine, as it is of great

importance to have the plants as near the glass as possible. The floor

of the house should stand one foot above the level of the ground: and,

where expense is not an object, the house is sometimes built on arches

to insure perfect dryness. All the windows are made to move in every

possible direction so as to admit of a current of air through the

house, whenever the state of the atmosphere will permit it.

The _conservatory_ has all the plants growing in the soil, instead

of being in pots and placed on shelves. It is generally more lofty

and architectural than a greenhouse, and of much greater extent;

and it is frequently attached to the house, being so contrived that

it can be entered from one of the living-rooms. The temperature of

the conservatory is generally rather warmer than that of the common

greenhouse, as it is kept at 60° during the day, and seldom allowed to

fall lower than 40° at night.

The _orangery_ is a still more architectural-looking building than the

conservatory, and it has an opaque roof. It is used only for preserving

orange trees and other plants that remain in a dormant state during the

winter, and it requires no more heat than is absolutely essential to

keep out the frost.

The _camellia house_ is generally formed like a common greenhouse, but

so contrived as to allow the whole of the sashes to be taken off during

the summer. The plants are kept on stone shelves, raised one above

another; and there is generally no walk at the back.

Of the culture of the plants in the Australian house I have already

spoken; and of those in the greenhouse I need only detail the

management during the winter months, as your greenhouse will, I

suppose, be in the reserve-ground, and will be only used to preserve

those plants during winter which you have kept in other more

conspicuous situations during the summer.

Many persons injure greenhouse plants by keeping them too warm, and

giving them too little air during winter, and then are surprised

that their plants become sickly and remain without flowering,

notwithstanding all the care and expense that have been bestowed upon

them. No greenhouse ought to be kept at a greater heat at night than

from 35° to 40°; and in the daytime it should not be allowed to rise

above 50°, or at most 52°. When there happens to be sunshine, the fire

ought to be lessened, and whenever the air is not frosty the windows

ought to be opened from twelve till two every day. If a greenhouse is

kept too warm, it will induce premature vegetation, and the plants will

waste their strength in an attempt to produce flowers and fruit, at

a season when nature requires them to be kept in a state of complete

repose. Greenhouse plants should be watered generally every morning;

but in frosty weather water need not be given every day, and some

plants will not require watering oftener than once a week. This,

however, must depend in a great measure on circumstances, and, as a

general rule, it may be observed, that water may always be given in

small quantities when the surface of the earth contained in the pot

looks dry. The pots should never be allowed to stand in saucers, as

stagnant water is peculiarly injurious in winter. Whenever the earth

looks black and sodden, the plant should be turned out of the pot,

and, after the black earth has been carefully shaken from the root, it

should be repotted in fresh soil, an inch or more in the bottom of the

pot being filled in with small pieces of broken crocks.

In February or March greenhouse plants should be looked over, and

repotted where necessary; those that are too tall should be cut in, and

cuttings made of their shoots. The young plants raised from cuttings

made in autumn should be repotted in larger pots for flowering; and

where the plants do not require fresh potting, but have the surface of

their mould become green and mossy, the moss should be taken off, and

the ground slightly stirred with a flat stick, taking care, however,

not to go so deep as to injure the roots. When trouble is not an

object, all greenhouse plants are the better for repotting once a year,

either in spring or autumn; and when the ball is taken out of the pot

for this purpose, it should be carefully examined, and all the decayed

parts of the roots should be cut off. Sometimes, when the ball of earth

is turned out, nearly half of it will fall off almost without touching

it; and when this is the case, it will generally be found that there

is a worm in the pot. Worms do a great deal of mischief to greenhouse

plants in cutting through the roots, as their instinct teaches them

to make their way through the earth straight across the pot and back

again, and they cannot do this without tearing the roots asunder every

time they pass.

Another point to be attended to in the management of a greenhouse is,

keeping the plants as near as possible to the glass, as, unless this be

done, the plants will become what gardeners call "drawn up," that is,

they will be unnaturally tall and slender, from the efforts they make

to reach the light.

As I have frequently mentioned _repotting_, I may as well tell you here

the best mode of performing the operation. The pot to which the plant

is to be removed should always have been previously washed quite clean,

and be perfectly dry. Some bits of broken pots, called potsherds,

should then be put at the bottom of the pot, the quantity varying from

three or four pieces (so as just to cover the hole) to a mass an inch

in depth, depending upon the nature of the plant. If the plant has

not been in a pot before, the roots are then placed just above the

potsherds, and the earth is filled in, the plant being occasionally

shaken so as to allow the earth to get amongst its roots. The soil

is next consolidated by shaking the pot, and then lifting it up and

setting it down again with a jerk; and is rendered firm and neat round

the rim by means of a broad smooth piece of stick shaped somewhat like

a table-knife, and called a potting-stick. When a plant has been in a

pot before, and is repotted or shifted, as it is called, into a pot

a size larger, the plant is turned out of its old pot by putting the

hand upon the earth and turning the pot upside down; or, if the ball of

earth does not come out readily, striking the rim of the pot against

the edge of the potting-table or shelf. The ball containing the plant

will thus drop out into the left hand; and the potsherds that adhere to

the bottom of the ball having been picked off, and any part of the root

that appears decayed having been removed, a little mould is put on the

drainage in the new pot; and the ball of earth, containing the plant

having been placed in the centre, the space between it and the pot is

filled in with light rich mould, and made firm with the potting-stick.

The operation is concluded by shaking the pot, and then taking hold

of the rim with both hands, and striking the bottom of the pot two or

three times with a jerk against the potting-bench. The plant is then

watered, and set in the shade for the remainder of the day.

_Heaths_ are very difficult plants to manage; but a great improvement

has taken place in their culture within the last few years. They

are grown in what is called heath mould, that is, a mixture of peat

and sand; and when this earth is put into the pot, it is mixed with

good-sized entire pebbles, some of which are suffered to protrude

through the surface of the soil. The roots of heaths are extremely fine

and hair-like, and the shelter afforded by the pebbles is so congenial

to them, that, if one of the stones be taken out, a cluster of fine,

white, vigorous roots will be found below it. The plants are always

potted high, so as to let the base of the stem be above the level of

the rim of the pot, as the plants are very apt to damp off if the

collar of the plant be buried in the ground. Heaths should never be

suffered to become too dry, and never kept too wet. They require very

little heat; and many experienced cultivators never apply fire-heat

to their heatheries at all, but merely keep out the frost by having

wooden shutters to the sashes, and covering them with mats. Heaths,

when growing rapidly, should be repotted whenever the roots have filled

the pot; but they should not be shifted too often; and, when they have

attained their full growth, they may be suffered to remain in the same

pots three or four years without injury.

As plants in the _conservatory_ are grown in the free soil, they

are in a much more natural state than any plants can be in pots, and

consequently they require much less care in their culture. There is

usually a walk all round the conservatory, next the glass, and one

down the middle, on each side of which are the beds containing the

plants, and under which are placed the hot-water pipes that warm

the house. The consequence of this arrangement is, that the beds on

each side the middle walk are so planted as to have their highest

shrubs in the centre, shelving down to those of lower growth on each

side; and hence the centre is generally planted with tall camellias,

acacias, metrosideros, eucalyptus, &c.; while near the walk are

placed oleanders, myrtles, fuchsias of different kinds, together with

chorozemas, and many of the other most ornamental New Holland plants;

and up the pillars that support the roof are trained kennedyas,

bignonias, ipomœas, and passion-flowers in great variety. Cliánthus

puníceus and Polýgala oppositifòlia ought to find a place in every

conservatory; and a plant of Wistària sinénsis may be trained under the

rafters so as to afford shade to the camellias; as, under shelter, the

wistaria will flower twice in the year, and its flowers will yield a

delightful, though very delicate, fragrance.

As it is of the greatest importance to the health of the plants to have

the soil in a conservatory well drained, many persons form the beds by

excavating pits of the proper size, about two feet and a half deep, and

put at the bottom a layer of brick-bats, stones, and other materials

for drainage, about six inches thick. On this is deposited a thin layer

of coarse rough gravel; and on the gravel a layer of rich mould, which

should be about two feet thick in the centre of the bed, where the

largest shrubs are to be planted, and shelving off to about sixteen or

eighteen inches at the sides next the walks. All the sashes should be

made to open, and there ought to be large glass doors in front, which

should generally stand open during the day in summer, in order to admit

as much air as possible.

In some places a movable frame is contrived for a conservatory, into

which sashes fit in winter, and which, in severe weather, is covered

with tarpauling, made to pull down, like a blind, from a roller along

the ridge of the roof; the whole frame being so contrived as to be

entirely removed in summer. The upright posts of this frame are let

into holes in the ground, like the posts in a drying-ground, so that

when the posts are taken out, the holes may be stopped up with wooden

plugs with rings attached; and the roof and horizontal pieces fit into

each other, and into the uprights, the whole being kept firm by bolts.

When a conservatory of this kind is to be removed for the summer, the

side sashes and doors are taken away first, generally about the middle

or end of April. A week or ten days after, the sashes of the roof are

taken off, but the frame and tarpauling are left in case of spring

frosts; and, when all danger from these is over, the whole of the

framework is removed, and the orange trees, camellias, and other exotic

trees that have been planted in the conservatory, appear to be growing

in the open air.

The _orangery_ is often contrived so as to be used as a kind of

living-room during summer, as it is only intended for the reception

of the orange trees, and other plants belonging to the genus Citrus,

during winter. The trees are generally grown in large tubs and boxes,

in a rich loamy soil, and are set out in the open air during summer,

when they require but little care, provided they are frequently

watered over the leaves, though they do not like much water to their

roots. When young plants are raised from seed, they seldom flower till

they have been budded or grafted from an old tree. Orange trees are

generally put in the open air in May, and kept there till September or

October; and they are very seldom shifted. They require scarcely any

light or water during winter, and no heat beyond what is necessary to

protect them from the frost.

Some of the varieties of Caméllia japónica are sufficiently hardy to

grow in the open air in the neighbourhood of London, provided their

roots and the lower part of their stems are mulched; that is, covered

with straw or litter, and the main trunk wrapped round with a hay-band

a few inches from the ground. The hardiest kind is the variegated red.

Camellias seldom do well in pots, except when they are very small,

as, when they attain a tolerable size, the flower-buds are very apt

to fall off without expanding. The best mode of growing camellias is,

therefore, to plant them in the free soil of a conservatory, taking

care that some creeping plant is trained along the rafters over their

heads, as they do not like to be exposed to too much sun, unless

they have also a great deal of air, and are frequently and regularly

watered. The soil for camellias should be peat mixed with a little

sandy loam. The temperature of the camellia house should be from 50° to

60° during the whole of the growing season; but, when the flower-buds

have formed, the glasses are generally taken off during the rest of

the summer. Early in autumn, however, when the flower-buds begin to

swell, the glasses should be put on and the house kept warm, the plants

being regularly watered morning and evening, as, if the watering be

neglected a single day, or if stagnant water be suffered to remain

about the roots, the flower-buds will be sure to drop off without

expanding. Camellias do not require frequent repotting. Small camellias

are generally shifted only once in two years, and large ones, that is,

those above five feet high, not oftener than once in three or four

years. The time for shifting camellias is just when they have done

flowering, before they are beginning to send out their young shoots.

Great care must be taken when they are repotted not to bruise the

roots, as they are very easily injured.

Both camellias and orange trees are very subject to the attacks of the

_black fly_, a kind of aphis. The best way of destroying these insects

is to syringe the plants well, laying them down on their sides when

they are in pots, or, if they are planted in the free soil, syringing

them with a garden engine so as to throw the water in a powerful stream

upwards, in order to get at the under surface of the leaves, where the

insects are generally found. Some persons recommend fumigating with

tobacco smoke; but I have never found it so efficacious as syringing,

and washing the under surface of the leaves with a sponge, in case the

insects should be very numerous.

LETTER IX.

THE PARK AND PLEASURE-GROUNDS.--SITUATION OF OLD

HOUSES.--WATER.--FOREST SCENERY.--EFFECT OF A SHRUBBERY IN

HARMONISING A FLOWER-GARDEN WITH A PARK.--OPENING VISTAS.--SCENES

IN A PARK.--FENCES AGAINST CATTLE.--STYLES IN GARDENING.--USE OF A

TERRACE.--PATTE D'OIE.--PLANTING AN ARCHITECTURAL GARDEN.--PLANTING AN

ARBORETUM.--RENOVATING TURF.

I am very glad to find that you have procured some plants, and that

you begin to feel an interest in the cultivation of your flowers. I do

not at all agree with you, however, in thinking, that this is merely

because gardening has with you, as yet, the charm of novelty; on the

contrary, I am quite sure that as you become better acquainted with

the subject, you will find your interest in your garden increase; as

gardening is one of those happy arts in which there is always some

not quite certain change to look forward to, and to be anxious about.

Landscape-gardening is, however, the highest branch of the art, and it

is the more necessary that you should study it, as, from the view you

have sent me of your house, it appears to me that the general aspect of

your park is at present very monotonous.

An ancient mansion embosomed in tall trees, with a fine broad terrace

at the back, having a piece of still water lying like a liquid mirror

below it, and a large park beyond, overgrown with majestic trees whose

lower branches repose upon the turf beneath them, form a scene which

sounds exceedingly well in description, but is very wearying to the

eye which is destined continually to rest upon it. It is also not very

healthy; as chilly vapours are sure to rise from the water, while the

mass of trees beyond will obstruct the free current of air.

You must not, however, suppose from these remarks that I admire a

house in an open exposed situation, as I think nothing can have a more

bleak and naked appearance. Besides, a house entirely unsheltered by

trees is sure to be a very uncomfortable residence, from its exposure

to the heat in summer, and the cold in winter. It is, therefore, most

desirable to have a sufficient quantity of trees near the house to

shelter it, and yet to have numerous openings through those trees to

admit distant prospects, and a free current of air. If a few openings

could, therefore, be made in the plantations near your dwelling, I do

not think there would be any danger in leaving the water in its present

position; as, from your description, the house is elevated very much

above it, and as, notwithstanding its appearance of stillness, there

is a current through it. The elevation at which the house is above the

water will also prevent the unpleasant consequences which sometimes

ensue, when water overflows its banks, and makes its way into the

basement story of a house. As to your house being on the ridge of a

hill, I do not think that is any objection, as the rise is not very

great on either side, and it is a proof that the prospect would be good

if you would only cut down a sufficient number of trees to show it.

Houses quite in a valley are frequently damp, and if on the summit of a

high hill they are apt to be bleak; so that the side of a hill or the

ridge of a knoll is, in fact, the best situation that can be imagined.

Our ancestors, indeed, rarely went wrong on this subject; and it is

quite an extraordinary case to find an old house badly placed. In the

old times the country gentry lived in their mansions all the year,

and only visited London occasionally, so that they were more anxious

to make their homes comfortable than persons of the same rank at the

present day, who live in London, and only visit the seats of their

ancestors as they would a watering-place.

You complain bitterly of your house not having an extensive view from

it. You see nothing but trees, you say, in whichever direction you

look; and you detest trees, because their foliage is monotonous, and so

thick that you cannot see two hundred yards before you. This last is

the real point of complaint.

Forest scenery is extremely beautiful in itself, and principally from

the great variety it presents in the same objects. A fine tree, even

when bare of leaves in winter, is beautiful, from the delicate tracery

presented by its branches, which look like the masts and rigging of a

large ship, intricate, yet without confusion. In snow, trees assume a

new character; the weight sustained by the branches makes them droop,

and a thousand graceful and elegant forms take the place of what was

before a stern and rigid outline. In hoarfrost trees glisten with

a thousand gems, reflecting the rays of light in so many different

colours, that they remind one of the description of Aladdin's magic

garden. In spring they present vivid ideas of youth and fertility,

and all nature appears awakening into new and vigorous life; the buds

swell, their coverings burst, and the young leaves display their tender

and delicate green; at first only half-unfolding their beautiful

forms, and reminding one of a young and timid girl half-wishing and

half-fearing to make her first appearance in the busy world. Trees now

begin to assume each a new and decided character of its own. The leaves

of no two trees are alike: those of the beech are of clear dark green,

and so thin that they are almost transparent, and yet they are deeply

marked with a strongly indented feather-like set of veins. The bark of

the beech is clear and smooth, as though nature had intended it for the

use to which it has so often been applied by lovers--to carve on it a

fair one's name. The leaves of the elm are of a thick coarse texture,

rugged and distorted, wrinkled, and of a dingy green; and the bark of

the tree is cut into a thousand furrows. The leaves of the ash are

light and pendulous, and cut into numerous leaflets; those of the oak

are deeply indented, and generally grow in tufts. The palmate, drooping

leaves of the horsechestnut contrast with the long, slender, and nearly

erect leaves of the white willow; and those of the black poplar, which

present a smooth outline, with those of the sweet chestnut, which are

remarkable for their finely indented edges. In short, the leaves of

every tree have beauties peculiar to themselves, in form as well as in

colour. In autumn these colours become more decided; the lime trees

take a yellowish tint, and the oak a reddish brown; the liquidambar

becomes of a rich purplish crimson, and the maples and American oaks

show a thousand varied dyes.

Yes, my dear Annie, I repeat, the fault is not in the trees, for they

are beautiful; you dislike them only because they are so crowded

that you cannot see their beauties. I allow it is a very difficult

task to know how to proceed in a case like yours. Cutting down

indiscriminately will never do; the trees must be thinned, not only

with a view to make openings through the wood, but with care as to

themselves. I think the first point will be, to find out the handsomest

trees among those in the plantations near the house, in order to see

which you would have left. Some will have been drawn up so much, and

will have been forced into such awkward forms by their present crowded

state, that they would be hideous if the trees that now surround them

were removed. Others want room, but have grown so that they may easily

be trained into a better form when space is given to them. One great

point to be attended to is, to break the present formal outline; but,

in doing so, it is scarcely possible to avoid destroying some trees

that your husband might wish to spare, from local associations. I hope,

however, he will allow a sufficient space to be cleared, not only to

make your flower-garden, but to allow the plants in it to grow without

being overshadowed by trees.

When the flower-garden is formed it will be necessary to have a

_shrubbery_, so that the transition may not be too abrupt from the

high state of culture in a flower-garden, to the wild nature of the

forest trees. This shrubbery, indeed, will afford the only means of

harmonising a newly laid out garden with the general scenery of the

park, as it will contain, first, dwarf flowering shrubs next the

garden; then shrubs of a larger growth, such as the laurustinus and

arbutus; and, lastly, flowering trees, from the different kinds of

Cratæ'gus to those of loftier growth, such as Pyrus spectábilis,

Sophòra japónica, and the tulip tree, which last equals in height some

of the loftiest forest trees in the park.

When a sufficient space for the flower-garden and the adjoining

shrubbery has been cleared, and the most interesting trees marked, the

next point is to ascertain what distant prospects will be admitted by

cutting an opening through the wood, before it is finally decided in

what direction the intended openings shall be made; as, for instance,

if the view of a church or castle would be admitted by cutting an

opening in a particular direction, that direction should be chosen in

preference to any other, and a vista made in that line, even though an

opening in another line would be preferable on other accounts. Should

such an object be discovered, you must take care not to obscure it

when planting your shrubbery; and should the object you wish to catch

a view of be very distant, and not distinctly marked, the eye may be

guided to it by planting some whitish-leaved low tree, such as Elæágnus

angustifòlia, in the shrubbery, backed by dark-leaved shrubs, such as

alaternus and phillyrea; and again, at a greater distance, planting an

abele tree or white poplar in the same direction, where it will be

backed by dark masses of Scotch pines or other similar trees. Before

you make an opening, you must also ascertain whether any disagreeable

objects will be exposed by your so doing; and, before cutting down even

a single tree, you must consider what effect its removal will produce

upon the trees around it. You have often told me of the exquisite taste

your husband possesses, and his fondness for fine paintings: he must,

therefore, be admirably qualified for improving the scenery round his

house himself. Landscape-gardening is, in fact, but landscape-painting

on the largest scale, and with the noblest materials; the same taste is

required in both.

As the plantations near the house have been suffered to become so

completely overgrown, I have no doubt those in the _park_ are in a

similar state, and that the park itself will require considerable

improvement. The same general observations with regard to thinning out

plantations will apply in every case; but in the park I think you will

find it advisable, whenever an opportunity occurs, to take advantage of

any natural feature to introduce what landscape-gardeners call a scene;

as, for instance, should your park contain a rocky glen, advantage

may be taken of it by planting it with different kinds of pines and

firs, to form an imitation of alpine scenery, as was done, in a very

striking manner, by the late Mr. Beckford at Fonthill. Another part of

the grounds might be planted in imitation of American scenery, with

magnolias, American oaks, and maples, and tulip trees, as was done by

the late Duke of Marlborough at White Knights. A pond, in a secluded

part of the grounds might have a degree of interest given to it by

planting its banks with alders and willows. A variety of similar scenes

will no doubt suggest themselves to you, which do not occur to me, from

my ignorance of the peculiar features of the place.

I suppose neither deer nor cattle are allowed to graze in your park,

as you speak of several of the trees sweeping the grass with their

foliage. Cows are particularly destructive to the beauty of park

scenery, as they are very fond of tearing off the lower branches of

the trees, and thus producing the hard line which looks as though the

branches had been shaved off about five feet from the ground, and which

is called by landscape-gardeners and painters the browsing line.