546 



HOKTICULTUKE 



June 7, 1919 



RAMBLING OBSERVATIONS OF 

 A ROVING GARDENER 



I notice that Friend Barron in the 

 last issue of the Garden Magazine has 

 some mild strictures on the failure of 

 American nurserymen to stock up with 

 the lesser known plants on the plea 

 that there is no demand. No doubt 

 there is some truth in what is said. 

 Nurserymen in general are not as 

 progressive, perhaps, as they might be. 

 Yet there are two sides to the ques- 

 tion, and sometimes the buying public 

 proves remarkably unresponsive when 

 efforts are made to popularize new and 

 extraordinarily good offerings. Take 

 the American Pillar climbing rose, for 

 example. In my estimation this is the 

 finest of all the single flowered climb- 

 ers. The beauty of a large plant in 

 full bloom almost takes one's breath 

 away when one sees it for the first 

 time. It is an incomparable garden 

 subject, yet Mr. Robert Pyle, of Con- 

 ard & Jones, has told me that they 

 worked for years to get people buying 

 this rose. It became well known and 

 widely planted across the water long 

 before anything like a wide demand 

 could be created here. This sort of 

 thing is of course decidedly discour- 

 aging. Fortunately the American Pil- 

 lar rose is at last being accepted at its 

 full value. 



With Rosa Hugonis, as it happens, a 

 little different experience has been en- 

 countered. But this fact is due prob- 

 ably to the somewhat romantic manner 

 in which the rose was introduced and 

 the large amount of newspaper and 

 magazine space which has been given 

 it. The writer has had a share in pop- 

 ularizing this rose, and probably its 

 best advertising has come through the 

 magnificent specimen flowering each 

 season at the Arnold Arboretum, where 

 large numbers of people see it. 



One mistake has been made in some 

 of the magazine advertising. Father 

 Hugo's rose was not discovered or in- 

 troduced by E. H. Wilson, as is often 

 stated. Mr. Wilson has enough good 

 plants to his credit; and the real dis- 

 coverer of this Chinese rose was an 

 English missionary, Father Hugo 

 Scanlon, whose name it bears. It was 

 first propagated in England, from 

 which country plants were sent to 

 America. The Veitch's have a large 

 stock, from whom American nursery- 

 men obtained their plants. 



instances may be illustrated by the 

 handsome Japanese tree called Acan- 

 thopanax ricinifolium. For years the 

 Elm City Nurseries of New Haven, 

 Connecticut, have been stocked with 

 this splendid tree, and yet the sales 

 have been much fewer than the merits 

 of the tree would warrant. Perhaps 

 the name is a drawback with the gen- 

 eral buying public, but it shouldn't in- 

 terfere with the appreciation of large 

 estate owners or park Superintendents. 

 There are few trees that can be grown 

 in the northern states capable of cre- 

 ating such a suggestion of the tropics 

 as this Acanthopanax. It is a very 

 graceful yet stately tree with large 

 leaves suggesting those of the castor 

 bean. It is really a member of the 

 Aralia family, and in July it produces 

 enormous flower heads, greenish- 

 white in color, and sometimes meas- 

 uring a foot across. 



The tardiness with which the pub- 

 lic responds to new offerings in many 



In some instances trees which are 

 not common in cultivation appear in 

 most unexpected places. Not long ago 

 a Ceder of Lebanon cone was sent to 

 Professor Charles S. Sargent from one 

 of the western states where there was 

 no reason to suppose that a specimen 

 had even been planted. There is no 

 question as to the character of the 

 cone, and it would be interesting to 

 trace the history of the particular tree 

 from which it came. As a matter of 

 fact, though, good specimens of Cedars 

 of Lebanon are to be found here and 

 there in different parts of the country. 

 An unusually large and aged tree of 

 this species is located in one of the 

 cemeteries at Wilmington, Delaware, 

 where it has become somewhat of a 

 landmark. 



Not for years have the Wisterias 

 bloomed so freely as this season, at 

 least in New England. They have been 

 making a remarkable display for the 

 last two weeks. Much depends, 

 though, upon the way in which these 

 vines are used as to the effects which 

 they produce. A few days ago I saw 

 a very large white specimen growing 

 on the side of a white house. Natur- 

 ally it did not make anything like the 

 appeal to the eye which it would have 

 made with a different sort of back- 

 ground. The same day I saw another 

 and even larger specimen growing on 

 an old tree where it produced a stun- 

 ning effect. When the growth is weak, 

 as is often the case with Wisterias 

 growing over porches and buildings, 



the plants have a moth-eaten appear- 

 ance when in bloom that is not very 

 satisfactory. They are rather better 

 after all on a pergola or similar struc- 

 ture with a background of green trees. 

 I notice that the catalogues are still 

 divided as to the spelling of the name. 

 Perhaps the majority spell it with an 

 A instead of an E, that is Wistaria. 

 Now while this vine was really named 

 for Caspar Wistar, who spells his name 

 Wistar, Nuttall, author of the genus, 

 spelled the plant's name Wisteria, 

 which is now considered correct, and 

 is so given in Bailey's encyclopaedia. 

 According to Mr. Wilson, Wisterias are 

 never seen at their best in this coun- 

 try. It is in Japan that they flourish, 

 especially when planted along the 

 water courses, blossoms which meas- 

 ure a yard in length not being uncom- 

 mon. 



Amateur gardeners and even pro- 

 fessionals often have their patience 

 tried by the frequent changes in names 

 or the spelling of names given the 

 common plants by the authorities who 

 write the reference books and man- 

 uals. These changes sometimes seem 

 wholly unnecessary as well as most 

 confusing. They are made, however, 

 with a purpose. At a convention some 

 days ago it was agreed that the name 

 first given to any plant should be the 

 one adopted. Now it frequently hap- 

 pens that experts discover that a plant 

 well known under a certain name was 

 discovered and given another name at 

 a previous date. Under the rules this 

 first name must prevail, and the 

 change is automatically made. Whether 

 all this is justified or not is not a 

 point to be discussed here, but this is 

 the explanation of changes which seem 

 almost absurd. 



A good case in point is the shrub 

 commonly known as Japanese Quince. 

 This plant is widely used in suburban 

 gardens, as everybody knows, and is 

 catalogued very generally as aCydonia. 

 Sometimes, though, it is classed as a 

 Pyrus, and not one garden maker out 

 of fifty knows what plant is referred 

 to when the name of Chaenomeles is 

 used. Yet this is the name under 

 which it is indexed in Bailey's ency- 

 clopaedia. This name has been adopted 

 because it was the original name, so 

 far as is known, having been given to 

 the plant by Thunberg, who supposed 

 that the fruits split into five valves. 

 He used the Greek words "chainein" 

 which means to split and "melia" 

 which means apple. This, of course, 

 is highly scientific and conforms to the 

 rules of the game, but it certainly adds 

 to the confusion of the purely practical 

 man. 



