Ancust -H, 186S. 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTUEE AND COTTAGE GAEDENEE. 



Mi) 



I last yoai raised about a huudrod seodliugs, the seed boiug 

 sown in February. Two of these seedlings tluwercd iu the 

 autumn, but I do not remember the exact dute. Tljey were 

 raised in heat, but as soon as they were potted off they had 

 only gi-eenhouso treatment. — 1'. 



MY PL^VNTS, 



.\ND now AXD ^VHF.UE I FOUND THEM.— No. 8. 

 Is tlie spring and summer of 1BG2 we were sojourning iu the 

 proud old county of Norfolk, that county of noble families of 

 '■ laug pedigree," and of broad and well-cultivated lauds. It 

 is not, however, of these that 1 am going to write, but of one 

 small portion of that coimty iu the ueighliourhood of East 

 Dereham. I daresay many in that locality thinlc of it simply 

 as a bog — a thing to be avoided on dark uiglits, especially when 

 returning from the alehouse at midnight, for, I regret to say 

 that, noble as this coimty is, it is by no means free from 

 those ignoble pests of our English towns and villages, the 

 pubUc-house and low boershop. It is impossible to say how 

 many aching hearts now at rest in that silent churchyard close 

 by have lain them downi out-wearied with the care, and anxiety, 

 and grief brought to tiiem on the wings of that unhallowed 

 laughter and witless jesting within those curtained rooms at 

 the village alehouse ! A line and handsome face is shadowed 

 on the bliud; laugliter, songs, and swearing are witliin. A 

 thin, anxious, and careworn form is watching from without ; 

 tears hot and fast fall down her cheeks. She lasses that small 

 bundle within her shawl, and bitterly retraces her steps. Many 

 a time she pauses and listens, listens for that one loved foot- 

 fall — for him who is still her idol, though so ill deserving of her 

 love. Late on in the night he stumbles home, falls across the 

 bed, from whence proceed the infant's wakened cries and the 

 mother's stifled sobs. In the morning he knows nought of 

 the night's anguish, and, whistUng, leaves his home and mixes 

 \vith his fellow men. In the evening he "seeks it yet again." 

 She, with a heavy heart, coldly and slowly labom's out her 

 day ; and in due time, when grief has done its work, she, too, 

 lies her down with her sorrow-laden sisters to await that last 

 awaking and final reckoning which must come both to husband 

 and wife alike. 



But let me quit this sad subject tor hours of happy memories, 

 of pm-e delight amongst those much-neglected children of the 

 water and the fen — beauties overlooked by the casual passer-by, 

 but which had accidentally been mentioned to me. Hours 

 and hours of the long summer days I spent in Seaming Fen, 

 until it became quite a byeword amongst some friends of mine. 

 "Seaming Fen again?"' Yes! I was mad about the place, 

 for the time being there was no doubt of it. The heat of the 

 morning certainly did not find me there ; but still I was gene- 

 rally employed at home in drying and arranging specimens 

 collected on the previous day. An early dinner, and off again ; 

 through the town, down a passage to yom- right, across the 

 railway and some fields, and you are soon and almost imper- 

 ceptibly upon the spot ! I can scarcely describe the deUght 

 with which I always crossed the style separating the fields and 

 the Fen. The moment you were over, had the fields been 

 ever so dusty, you came at once upon the most beautiful wet 

 moss and the charming Sundew. A carpet of moss and Sun- 

 dew ! — could anything be more luxuriously and botanically 

 romantic ? A pool of water stretched away to the right, eou- 

 taining that vestal queen of aquatic plant's, the white Water 

 Lily, in garments of green ; and close by, its sisters with the 

 golden hair and green drapeiy all floating on the water. Rushes 

 and Sedges, handmaidens to the Lilies, waved then- adulations, 

 or whispered love songs to the winds which played between 

 the leaves. Many a lecture did my prudent medical husband 

 give me ; and, must I confess it '?— they fell unheeded. ^\'hat 

 was it that I retiu-ned home with wet feet ? Had I not been 

 to the shrine of the goddess of water flowers, and should I 

 return with no sign of my mission ? The moment I entered 

 that Fen I forgot the world around. An ignis-fatuus seemed 

 to be before me. From one spot to another I stepped, occa- 

 sionally choosing an unsafe tuft and getting ankle deep in 

 mud, but generally keeping pretty close to the pool in which 

 were the yellow and white Lilies. Beyond the water, towards 

 the Seaming side of the Fen, lay a large piece of tm-fy grass, 

 and there, upon some of the little hillocks, we would rest for 

 a while to look over our gathered treasures. Ling and the 

 Erica tetralix were grouped around us, and the pretty Piu- 

 guicula vulgaris, or Butterwort, with its tuft of bright green 

 leaves lying close to the ground, from the centre of which rise 



its delicate pin-ple flowers. I think this Fen contains a greater 

 variety of really beautiful flowers than any jdace of the same 

 size which I have ever visited. The Menyanthes trifoliata, 

 Bog Bean, hero flourishes in all its luxuriance ; and Ix'ucath it 

 the pretty ]iink Anagallis tenelia. Bog l'im)]ernel. In another 

 part of the Fen grew the Tarnassia palustris, with its delii-ately 

 white petals ; and there also the common Cotton Grass waved 

 its silky flowers. The gorgeous Marsh Marigold and sweet 

 blue Forget-me-not ran riot amongst the reeds and rushoa. 

 The pretty little Neottia spiralis with its twisted spike, from 

 which conies its name of Lady's Tresses, I gathered here for 

 the first time, and also the Marsh Helleborine. Ragged Robin 

 and Willow Herbs, striving and pushing their way through 

 this mass of vegetation, assert their claims to a conspicuous 

 place. The only plant which would not verify this description 

 was the dwarf Red Rattle. Always stunted, and looking like a 

 badly nursiid child, this plant arouses somewhat of a feeling of 

 sympathy in our hearts for its apparently neglected condition. 

 Spealcing of the Heath beyond the ponil, 1 must not forget 

 to mention the discover}' of a very slender plant with a round 

 stem and one spike at the top. I never found another root of 

 the same, though I frequently returned to the spot. I believe 

 it was the Sciii^us Savii, Savis' Club Rush. It was the most 

 slender and smallest Rush I have yet met with. 



The thick mist which gathered so quickly over the Fen in the 

 evening sent me homewards much sooner than I otherwise should 

 have returned ; and I own it was with something of the saddened 

 tone of feeling with which one quits a dear friend that I took 

 leave of my favourite haimt. The last train has whistled past, 

 this last noisy sign of a bustling troublous world without has 

 died away in the distance, and now I would fain remain here 

 with the newly risen moon and the quiet shadows for my com- 

 panions. The evening star is shining above the pool, and the 

 Lilies gently stir with love as they turn their meek eyes upwards 

 in answer to the starhght from above. And now the elves, 



" Who slept in buds the day. 

 And many a npuph who wi-eathes her brows with Sedge, 

 -Ajid sheds the freshenin^' dew ; and lovelier still, 



The pensive Pleasures sweet, 



Prepare Eve's shadowy car." 



The children who have been playing at a distance on the heath, 

 like the wearied birds have sought their beds. A httle under- 

 song of settling warblers, and the solemn croak of the toad 

 close by, are all the sounds which come to me as I take a part- 

 ing look before I cross the style. 



Farewell, Scarning Fen ! Yom- treasures I leave for other 

 and more able botanists to search out and to possess. As I 

 look back, it is strange to think that I have dabbled amongst 

 the Sundew in goloshes and a watei-))roof, the rain falling so 

 slowly, so miserably, and so small ! It soimds very absurd, no 

 doubt, but so it was. Perhaps just then my heart was " cold, 

 and dark, and dreaiy ;" and is it not better to arouse oneself 

 to some study in which you delight than to sit with yom- hands 

 before you brooding over some trouble at home ? At least, 

 this is my peculiar theoiy. Again, I remember days which 

 I have spent on the Fen, when the sun was burning, no air 

 stirred, and the leaves of the pretty Butterwort were shiivelled 

 and yellow. My heart was light enough then, and as cheery 

 and glad as a fainting flower after the summer shower. The 

 only remark which I remember hearing about the Fen was 

 from a neighbour, who casually mentioned that " some gentle- 

 man had been from London to botanise in the Fen, that he 

 had made as much fuss about it as I had, that he had found a 

 very rare plant there which he prized verv- much." My in- 

 formant believed the flower of it was green,' and that it came 

 in the month of September : however, of this latter fact he 

 seemed uncertain. Often and often I hunted for the said 

 " green flower,"' but ineffectually. Perhaps as we left East 

 Dereham about the end of August we thereby lost the acqui- 

 sition of some very rare addition to our hortus siccus. I feel 

 that my accoimt of this small spot has not done it justice, but 

 I must now leave it for a stroU in quite a tlifferent part of 

 England— namely. North Staffordshire. But before I quit 

 Norfolk entirely I must jot do-wu a fact with regard to the 

 Scolopendrilim vulgare : in no other locahty have I seen the 

 Hart's-tongue so fine as on the banks at GressenhaU, Scarning, 

 and Hoe. They are quite a contrast to the meagre specimens 

 I have met with in Staffordshire. — Alice. 



L.ip.GE Hibiscus. — Perhaps you may be able to afford space 

 to chronicle the fact that at "Wiarf Bridge, "tt'lnchester, there 

 is now in full bloom (a mass of rich rose tints), a fine, and 



