30 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



[ Ju'y IS, 1876. 



which every wind blows over it. On one particular part of the 

 Cheshire coast, between the mouth of the Dee and that of the 

 Mersey, close to the rocks so well known as the Red Noaes, 

 the sand hills which Bkirt the shore are, or were a few years 

 since, covered with these fragrant Rose bushes, and where a 

 little soil had mixed with the sand the wild Thyme and the 

 close-growing Miller's Thumb made a carpet of purple and 

 gold beneath them. On the opposite shore of the Mersey a 

 low, level, and somewhat marshy plain stretches for miles 

 along the coast, and here, just protected from wind and wave 

 by the continuous heaps of sand which accumulate about the 

 Arundo or Bent Grass, so plentifully growing in the neighbour- 

 hood, are rich stores of wild flowers too numerous to name. 

 Among them the wild Mint is so abundant that its scent is in- 

 haled with every breeze, and every footstep crushes out a 

 richer fragrance. Here also grows the beautiful Grass of Par- 

 nassus with its solitary ivory oup, so exquisitely veined, so 

 purely white. 



Beautiful as are the woods at this season, they are excelled 

 in floral splendour by the banks of streams and the edges of 

 marshy meadows. Such spots are gorgeous with bloom, and 

 set with an enamel where all Bhades of colour blend or con- 

 trast to form a harmonious whole. Great patches of Forget- 

 me-not still clothe the river's brink and stretch their lovely 

 blossoms towards the stream ; while growing beside them in 

 many places, and pushing its tender green shoots clothed with 

 bright yellow flowers, ia the Moneywort, the Creeping Jenny 

 of the London markets. Both plants love moisture, and grow 

 to perfection on moist banks beneath the shadow and protec- 

 tion of bramble and thorn. Not only the sides of the streams, 

 but the water itself is rich with beauty, for 



" The Lilies have spread their bells 

 O'er all the pools in the forest dells." 



And not only there, for the ponds and streams of open meadows 

 and park have gathered to their bosoms the broad floating 

 leaves and brilliant cups of the Lotus and yellow Water Lily. 

 The elegant tall reeds and numerous aquatic plants are now 

 coming to perfection, and fringe the streams with graceful 

 foliage, Narcissus-like admiring their own reflections in the 

 limpid water. Along the hedges of low-lying lands, by river 

 or streamBide especially, the beautiful wild Guelder Rose is 

 now in full bloom ; and though the flower is not so large 

 nor double as that of the garden variety, it is quite as inter- 

 esting with its outer crown of cruciform florets around the 

 lesser florets that form the centre. 



The forest trees are now all arrayed in the fulness of their 

 foliage, realising Spencer's description — 



" Then came jolly Summer, being dight 

 In a thin silken cassock colour'd greene, 

 That was unlyned all to be more light ; 

 And on his head a girland well beseene 

 He wore." 



June is the month above all others of sweet scents, when 

 the air is loaded not only with the rich perfume of new-mown 

 hay, but the delioate odours of Honeysuckle are wafted on the 

 breeze, and the BeanB now in full blossom exhale the perfume 

 of honey so strongly that it is but natural to find their myriad 

 blossoms being rifled of their nectar by the ever-busy bee. The 

 Bean fields in flower inspired one of the happiest chapters in 

 Alphonse Karr's " Voyage Autour de Mon Jardin." 



At the beginning of the month the Grasses in the meadows 

 bend their heads to each passing breeze, reflecting in waves of 

 light or shade every gleam of sun and every flying cloud. 



After extreme heat how delightful is the change to rain, 

 when the parched earth sends forth her rich moist smell, as 

 though diffusing a natural incense in gratitude for timely 

 showers ! The advent of rain in summer is thus exquisitely 

 described by Thomson : — 



" Gradual sinks the breeze 



Into a perfect calm, that not a breath 



Is heard to quiver through the closing woods, 



Or rnstling turn the many-twinMing leaves 



Of Aspen tall. 



At last 



The clouds consign their treasures to the fields, 



And softly Bhaking on the dimpled pool 



Prelusive drops, let all their moisture fall 



In large effusion o'er the freshen'd world." 



But it is not alone that the hedgerows and meadows are 

 gay with flowers— that the graceful wild Bryony and beauti- 

 ful Belladonna appear about the hedges, that fields are ena- 

 melled with Flora's wildlinga of every hue. Inseot life is this 

 month in its strength and beauty. Glow-worms show their 



tiny lamps in the damp moss, and may at eventide be sup- 

 posed to light 



" Those fairy elves 

 ■Whose midnight revels by a forest Bide, 

 Or fountain, Borne belated peasant sees — 

 Or dreams he sees ; while overhead the moon 

 Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 

 "Wheels her pale coarse." 



The field crickets also chirp their evensong during the month 

 of June, when the hum of busy human life is stilled, and 

 "the toilworn cotter fra his labour goes" to rest awhile and 

 enjoy the cool shades of evening at his cottage door. As the 

 season advances and the insects increase in numbers, as the 

 beetles of all the bright and varied tints of the rainbow may 

 be seen gemming the ground at eventide, or resting during the 

 heat of the day under the leaves on some sunny bank, or 

 hiding in the petals of a Rose ; as the chirrupings and drowsy 

 hummings of the insect tribes increase, the songs of the birds 

 are hushed ; and as the month declines the lonely whistle of 

 the stone curlew is heard at night, and during the day the 

 occasional pipings of the goldfinch, yellowhammer, and golden- 

 crested wren. 



" The groves, the fields, the meadows now do more 

 With melody resound. 'Tis silence all, 

 As if the lovely songBters, overwhelmed 

 By bounteous Nature's plenty, lay entranc'd 

 In drowsy lethargy." 

 — T. S. J. 



EATON HALL, 



THE SEAT OF HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF WESTMINSTER. 



Unlike Chatsworth or Trentham, Eaton Hall owes but little 

 to the beauty of its situation or the grandeur of its surround- 

 ings. The princely seat of the Dukes of Devonshire stands 

 so grandly amidst its wooded hills ; and the hardly less beau- 

 tiful seat of the Dukes of Sutherland by the side of the shining 

 Trent is so exquisitely rich and lovely, that the magnificence 

 of the residence seems to be lost in the beauty of the setting. 

 Few places could compare with them in these respects, and 

 most certainly not Eaton. It is true indeed that there are 

 lovely views to be obtained from it, as when standing on the 

 front terrace the eye rests on the old ruins of Beeeton Castle, 

 which all travellers by the London and North- Western line 

 must remember ; or from the back of the house a distant 

 view of the Welsh • hills is obtained ; while ever and anon 

 the glistening of the Dee appears through the foliage like 

 a silver thread, adding, as water ever does, so much charm. 

 But withal Eaton is inferior in natural beauty, I think, to 

 the other two : or is it that one has seen the others first and 

 the charm of their beauty has made one fastidious ? It may 

 be so. 



The Hall itself is undergoing a complete transformation, the 

 taste of the present owner not being satisfied with the florid 

 Gothic of Edward ILL'S times. Indeed it has been altered 

 and rebuilt several times. A brick mansion from the design 

 of Sir John Vanburgh stood upon the present site ; this was 

 taken down in 1803, and a magnificent building from designs 

 by Porden, combining Gothic with some details of the Tudor 

 architecture, was erected on its site. This is now giving way 

 to what will be when completed a magnificent specimen of the 

 Renaissance style, one of all others best suited for elaboration 

 of detail and for general convenience and comfort. At present 

 scaffolding and an army of masons and sculptors have pos- 

 session of the building, but amidst their confusion some idea 

 of the future beauty of the building may be obtained ; and 

 when one recollects that in the course of some years the esti- 

 mated income of the dukedom of Westminster will be a million 

 of money, it will be readily understood that nothing will stand 

 in the way of its being made worthy of the noble name of 

 Grosvenor. 



But neither my tastes nor the interests of the Journal draw 

 me much towards architecture. I have to tell of its gardening 

 and surroundings ; and it will be readily conceived that under 

 the care of Mr. Selwood, a favourite pupil of Mr. Stevens of 

 Trentham, there is little lacking here, where a liberal and 

 generous-hearted employer is ever ready to second the efforts 

 of all who serve him. Hence in whatever department of 

 the garden one looked there was evidence of care and skill. 

 Instead of entering into minute descriptions of the houseB, 

 their position and contents, I shall rather indicate those points 

 which most struok me as noteworthy — for in all these large 

 places there must of necessity be similarity in many respects, 

 the points of difference being really the points of interest— 



