November 14, 1867. ] 



JOUBNAL OP HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE OABDENEB. 



365 



it — a very faicinating picture. There is, too, the portrait of 

 Hogarth by himself, in which the coarse humourist is shown 

 to have a coarse face. Ettyg, Wilkiea, another Kembriindt, a 

 Wouverman, with a white horse in it of course, a Canaletti, 

 and many others. In the gallery leading to the library is 

 the Claude, a little picture, untouched since Claude's brush 

 touched it. 



Entering the library, that library of well-chosen books, well 

 read by the great Lord Lansdowne, who, wo must remember, 

 found BowooJ an empty shell, and left it stored as I found it 

 with art treasures of every kind. In the library I could fancy 

 I could Bee the one who so loved to be there, and was there so 

 many years — in the blue tail coat and buff waistcoat, and light 

 trousers, the neatest of old English gentlemen. I forgot in its 

 proper place to note a cabinet full of Sovros china, one piece 

 presented by Napoleon III. The perfect manner in which 

 Bowood is kept up adds to the charms both of the place and 

 its priceless treasures. Above all, unlike so many great places, 

 it looks a place to live in and be happy. 



But no more of the interior ; the bright autumn afternoon 

 is hasting on too fast, and we must hasten on as well. Leaving 

 the house, we enter the kitchen garden at the back. The first 

 thing that strikes mo is the beautiful training of the trees. 

 When inspecting various vineries, I notice that in the Muscat 

 houses the Bowood Muscat is at once seen from the greater 

 size of its bunches and berries. In the fruit-storing houses we 

 tasted one of llivers's Victoria Nectarines, and pronounced it 

 most excellent. The long, very long and new orchard-house 

 especially attracted the attention of my companion and friend, 

 and put him in a pleasing state of delight and admiration. 

 The Sahvay Peaches still hung on the trees. 



Going straight through the kitchen gardens, those well- 

 stored well-kept gardens, we come upon a most interesting part 

 of the grounds. On one side of a very long and winding path 

 are planted (not like an avenue, but on a broad space on either 

 side), the Conifers of the Old World, and on the other the 

 Conifers of the New. On either side they are arranged geo- 

 graphically from north to south. This delightfully planted 

 fcround was the work of Mr. Spencer, who happily has lived to 

 see his children grow up to a goodly height. Here and there 

 frost has thinned out or injured, but as a whole the collection 

 is admirable, and I should say unique — it was a grand thought 

 successfully carried out. Never before did I see the Conifers 

 on so large a scale, and owing to the arrangement I could make 

 a good comparison between the relative beauties of the trees. 

 There was one of the Old World so tough that the climber- 

 hunter, perhaps — can trust his weight upon a twig, as it is sure 

 not to break. Then there is one of the New World, apparently 

 without any bark ; its trunk stands as if arrayed in cocoa-nut 

 fibre, out of which, as out of holes, grow the well-clothed 

 branches — a ragged mother of well-clad children. These Co- 

 nifera) are many of them of great size, the soil, and climate, 

 and situation of Bowood appearing to suit this family of trees. 



Going forward and bending to the right we reach again the 

 lawn, and catch hero and there a glimpse of the lake. Many 

 fine trees are on the lawn ; specially I noted an old Pinus 

 pinaster, rough-barked, and rising in three tall stems, those 

 stems a colour which Mr. Buskin would delight in. 



A few yards further on, and we leave Bowood by the same 

 gate as that at which we entered. I feel since I passed that 

 gate scarcely three hours ago, as if a much longer time had 

 elapsed ; for my eyes have been filled, and my mind filled — 

 filled with what my memory will never let die, for it is the 

 blessing of such days that they never pass away ; we live them 

 over again, we enjoy them years afterwards almost as much as 

 at the time. 



Just as I was thinking I had seen all, my good host said, 

 "Now you shall have a drive; my dogcart is ready and the 

 light is fast going, so there is no time to lose." The park and 

 pleasure grounds at Bowood are nearly encircled by a broad 

 belt of plantations. Through these we drove, along half-natural 

 half-made roads. Sometimes we came upon a bit of plantiug 

 where there was no imderwood, but the Beeches stood out clear 

 to the roots, showing forth their well-shaped stems ; then 

 more usually the underwood was massive and green ; then, 

 again. Ferns now yellow with autumn were around us. Then 

 across a wide, open, arable tract we saw a semicircle of plant- 

 ing ; and oh, the lovely autumnal tints ! But deeper and 

 darker grew the wood, and an awe crept over rao ; and soon we 

 were in the front of the family mausoleum, a Grecian building, 

 heavy and solemn-looking — no, not solemn, gloomy-looking. 

 It seemed to tell of death and separation without the resur- 



rection and the reunion. It seemed to speak of heathenism, 

 not of Christianity. I contrasted with this the bright sunny 

 slope of my own beautiful churchyard, which overlooks indeed 

 a wooded landscape, but not one shadow falls upon it — not a 

 single twig breaks the cheering sunbeams. How I prefer the 

 latter as a place of burial. 



Driving on farther (it was getting dim now), we reach Lady 

 Lansdowne's poultry estabUshment, and a capital one it is. 

 It consists of a long row of buildings facing the south. They 

 resemble a row of cottages, and have a wired enclosure their 

 whole length, this being divided into runs. Then beyond the 

 whole is a good-sized piece of park enclosed by very high 

 paUngs ; in its centre a slate-covered dry run, with plenty o£ 

 loose earth in it. At cottage No. 1, so to speak, I found a 

 famous old Norfolk poultry woman, full of love and tender care 

 for her charges, over whose illness and death she is said to 

 shed a tear. Then at cottages Nos. 2, 3, 4, we found the 

 poultry perching for the night. I suggested broader and 

 Btraighter perches. No. 5 was the meal house, and I examined 

 the Sussex meal in the bins. These several buildings are low, 

 and I think one-roomed. Then across a run is a little squat 

 building by itself, for the chickens after they leave their 

 mothers. Deep in clean straw was this house, and many the 

 chickens cosily sleeping together. 



The fowls I saw at Bowood are Silver-Grey Dorkings, by far 

 the prettiest to my mind of all Dorkings, although beaten in 

 size by the darker breeds. There are also Game kept at 

 Bowood, and some Silver-spangled Hamburghs. A pleasant 

 chat with the old lady, and then a quick drive back to Sir. 

 Spencer's. " Something more I must show you," said he, and 

 in a corner of his own buildings I found four Game Bantams 

 at roost, the pets of their master. 



Then in-doors, dazzled by the bright light, and our noses 

 regaled by the tea awaiting us. Oh ! the old washerwomen 

 are right. If there is nectar on earth it is a cup of tea ; and 

 for Ganymede, commend me to a kind English matron to hand 

 it to me. You may notice people always talk best at tea ; at 

 dinner they are often sulky, but never at tea. But no more of 

 tea — yes, one cup more and away, for I have a long drive, and 

 the morning's rain is renewed. Therefore as 



" N'ao man can tether time or tide 

 The hour approaches, we maun ride." 



Just in the act of going I peep into Mr. Spencer's study, 

 from which in former years so much instruction to the gar- 

 dening world was wont to be issued. I close a happy day by a 

 meditative ride, arranging in their order the events of the last 

 six hours ; now and then saying to my companion, in spite o£ 

 the rain pattering on our half-open carriage, " What a charm- 

 ing day we have had!" and his reply, "How our host laid 

 himself out to make us happy, and how he succeeded!" — 



WttlSHIBE EectOE. 



BEDDING PELARGONIUMS. 



I MAY be permitted to make a few remarks relative to the 

 best kinds of bedding Pelargoniums as I have found them 

 answer in our rich clay loam in " The Mash," as the natives 

 call it, which produces the famous Cheddar cheese. I will taka 

 " A. 0. W.'s " communication at page 326 as my text. 



First of all, let me observe that I endorse all he says in 

 favour of Stella and Cybister, both of which bloom splendidly 

 with me. I can tell no difference between them as to blooming 

 qualities or growth, but on the whole I prefer the bright scarlet 

 of Cybister, as well as the pale green of its fohage. Nothing 

 could be finer than a mass of it, which I had against an old 

 Btnmp. Everybody was attracted by it, overlooking SteUa, 

 which I also had in a mass in a basket ; and yet Stella is indis- 

 pensable to every garden. Both these varieties stand bad 

 weather, as Nosegays, admirably. Monitor with me is a failure. 

 I find it very difficult to keep alive in winter, and its truss, 

 although fine and showy, owing to the great length and slender- 

 ness of its stem, is borne to the ground instead of standing 

 erect. I have entirely got rid of it this autumn. 



I do not agree with " A. O. W.'s " comments in respect to 

 Lady Cullum, which has been universally admired for its pro- 

 fuse blooms and very dwarf growth throughout the summer 

 and autumn. I tried it in a small circular bed, a double row 

 of it, surrouudcd by a belt of Flower of the Day, for foliage, 

 and with a mass of Iresine in the centre. It was a lovely 

 combination. I am propagating the variety largely for another 

 year. Helen Lindsay and Mrs. ^Vhitty are identical and almost 



