April 11, 1865. ] 



JOUENAL OP HOETIOULTUEE AND OOTTAGK GARDENEE. 



291 



was a apecialifcy he was well acquainted with, and when he 

 first came to Eome he could not believe in the success of a 

 system under which the roots were so long kept dry. He 

 had been obliged, however, to acknowledge himself wrong, 

 and he assured me as a fact, that even in the di-y climate of 

 Italy the roots were not damaged by the year's rest, and 

 that when so rested they produced larger flowers than when 

 planted every year. I have an old book translated from the 

 Dutch, and published in London in 1711, entitled ''The 

 Dutch Gardener," by Henry Van Oosten. In it I find it re- 

 commended to keep Anemone plants a year without plant- 

 ing when you wish to obtain seed ; but it is not said that 

 this makes any difference in the size of the flower. Among 

 your readers and correspondents there may, perhaps, be 

 some who have tried the system of giving a long rest to 

 Eanunculus and Anemone tubers. If such there be, a com- 

 munication of their success in growing their plants, would, 

 I doubt not, to many of your readers, be as interesting as it 

 would be to — Monticola. 



SPEING LONGINGS. 



Shall I be trespassing ? May I be permitted to shift my 

 attentions to the gardening side of "Our Journal ? " Well, 

 our o-ood fi-iend, " Wiltshike Eeotok," sets me the example. 

 Why, should I not ? Living in and loving intensely the 

 country, of eoiu'se, I care a little for gardening too ; and all, 

 I expect, who live in the country long for spring ! When 

 Nature is clothed in her gay attire we rejoice, and though 

 some of us may revel in snow, yet our delightful season is 

 certainly not winter. I presume, then, that almost every 

 lover of the country sympathises with your valued corre- 

 spondent on that score. I will plead guilty to ardent longing, 

 almost like that of the Swiss, when banished from his be- 

 loved country. Yet we are not aU alike. A few days back 

 I met an old keeper, who is very fond of and a capital hand at 

 gardening. I began sympathisingly shrugging my shoulders 

 at the frost, and intimating my extreme contempt for the 

 much vaunted old-fashioned winter. His quick reply was, 

 "Ifs beautiful weather, when it's gone we shall have every- 

 thing in its right place." Well, " Wiltshiee Eectok" and 

 his brother and sister spring-longers, may take what com- 

 fort they can from the old keeper's words; but I cannot 

 help feeKng, that getting to the right place is awfu' cauld 

 wark. 



Ugh ! it was bitter again this morning, warm in the sun- 

 shine; but just put your nose beyond that cottage, Oh! 

 isin't it delightfully cutting, quite refreshing, that sharp 

 north-easter, which is keeping us all in " the right place." 

 [This was written some days ago.] I thought of my Hepa- 

 ticas. Primroses, and early chickens, and felt for them all, 

 especially the latter. Talking of Primroses, I have a lot of 

 roots that never see the sun tUl late in the afternoon. They 

 have been picked by my in-door chickens out of the hedges ; 

 they are the most kindly roots, they generally commence to 

 throw up blooms late in the autumn, and they keep on in 

 straggling flower through the winter — now apparently the 

 very Sfe crushed out of them by the frost ; now inches deep 

 in snow ; and then, again, erect, most pleasant to the eye, 

 and, even in spite of the north-easters, harbingers whisper- 

 ing of spring. Yet winter has its charms. I do not know 

 that a snowstorm has, at least not to myself; there is no 

 guarding against the flakes, driven under your throat now, 

 the hand lifted to move the same and there are two or three 

 flakes down your neck. It is just the same in our outhouses, 

 any cracks and in drives the snow ; but, after it is down and 

 whilst it maintains its pristine whiteness, it has beauties 

 peculiar to itself, and our friend, "Wiltshike Eectoe," 

 has depicted his beautiful neighbourhood in its wintry 

 dress ; it differed somewhat from mine, hence my letter. 

 "Wiltshike Eectok" tells us of poets who described in 

 vivid language scenes they never saw. That may be easy 

 and comes natiu-al to them. My difficulty is far greater — 

 viz., to describe what I did see, that I wiU endeavour to do, 

 but I shall do scant justice to the scene. 



On " Wiltshire Eectoe's " penny-reading night, I sup- 

 pose, it thawed here ; the increased temperature melted aU 

 the snow that remained on the branches, soon it rained, 

 freezing as it fell. Before morning the wind rose to a gale. 



and those who lived near woods or plantations tell me the 

 cracking and snapping of large branches was terrible, and 

 certainly the havoc was somewhat unusual. jSTearly the 

 first object that caught my eye was the top of a Fir tree 

 from the neighbouring plantation, 8 or 10 feet snapped clean 

 off, and sent flying some 20 yards. Several brothers shared 

 the same fate; but Elm, Ash, and Beech, all alilce suff'ered; 

 huge limbs that made respectable trees were laid low, others 

 hanging perilously aloft. All our trees were covered thickly 

 with clear ice nearly half an inch thick. This not only added 

 to the weight, but appeared to render the branches more 

 brittle ; they would not bend, and so they broke when the 

 wind rose. The swaying of the branches was attended by a 

 continual crackling sound, broken ever and anon by the 

 crashing of some huge limb. 



Of all the trees that I have noticed the Beech and Birch 

 have suffered most severely. It is quite the exception that 

 proves the rule, to see one of the latter that has escaped 

 scatheless. I have marked fully a hundred Weeping Birch 

 trees, many are irretrievably ruined. I have seen one of fully 

 6 inches in diameter of trunk, with the head twisted off as 

 by some giant's hand, others, where the trunk divided into 

 two branches, split down the stem to the ground. What 

 wonder then, if these larger specimens ielt the force of the 

 ice and gale, that my kind neighbour's pet, planted some 

 three years ago on her lawn, and which she assured me the 

 nurseryman had warranted to weep when it grew, should 

 have decided on weeping thoroughly, leaving only the stem. 

 Its neighbour, the Cedar, the most perfectly furnished 

 specimen I ever saw, in s'ympathy with its companion lost 

 several of its branches ; whilst close by two sister Larches 

 have scarcely a respectable branch remaining. 



I have said that all the branches had a thick coating of 

 ice. This was a glorious sight ; every rustle altering the 

 angle at which they caught the light, the ice appeared like 

 myriads of diamonds covering every branch, and when the 

 sun shone how these glories were increased. They reached 

 the acme of splendour when I saw them with the red frosty 

 sun setting behind them, the branches then assumed a 

 roseate hue, and appeared like rubies and opals with the 

 whole sisterhood of precious stones. 



Not only on the grand forest trees were these wonderful 

 marks of the Creator's power visible, every tiny branch, 

 every insigniflcant leaflet, every withered stem of herbage 

 shared in the sparkling adornments, and added their share 

 of lustre to the scene. Prom my garden-wall I picked the 

 dried stem and seed-vessels of a Wallflower, it was a picture 

 in itself. On close inspection the dried fibres were plainly 

 seen through the coating of clear ice. I pass over the mag- 

 nificent forms which the snow assumes when driven by the 

 wind through the gaps of the hedgerows, beautiful as they 

 are they may be seen most winters, but not the fairy scenes 

 I have endeavoured to describe. It was well worth seeing, 

 yet my spring longings are so intense, that I care not to see 

 it again, at least, not for longer than an hour, then let the 

 genial southerner dispel this "fabric of a vision." Even 

 will I consent to be pitilessly pelted by the dislodged frag- 

 ments of ice — peltings which to me have this satisfaction, 

 that the frost is yielding. 



"Wiltshike Eectoe" and others, with myself, must 

 take courage. I saw this day, our " early" village Horse 

 Chestnut. I hailed with delight the outer gummy coverings 

 of the buds di-opping, and the tender pale green peeping 

 out, and rej«ioed that " there was a good time coming," al- 

 though that unkind easterly may succeed in making us 

 " wait a Uttle longer." — Y. B. A. Z. 



Eefect of Geapting the Elm on the Oak. — In your 

 Number of March 21st you have a paper extracted from 

 Tlie Naturalist as to the curious effect of grafting the Elm 

 on the Oak, the twigs producing leaves of both these trees 

 intermixed, and the Editors of that publication ask if any- 

 thing of the same kind has come under the notice of any 

 other person. So long ago as 1818 Mr. Pontey, of Kirk- 

 heaton, near Huddersfield, laid out some grounds for me, 

 and planted a great number of variegated shrubs, and 

 amongst other things two trees having Oak leaves and Horn- 

 beam (or Elm) on nearly every twig on the tree. When I 

 left the house (" Craw Trees," Gomersall, near Leeds), ten 



