September 14, 1871. ] 



JOUENAL OF HOBTICULTURB AND COTTAGE GARDENEK. 



193 







WEEKLY 



CALENDAR, 















Montli 



Day 



of 



Week. 



SEPTEMBER 14-20, 1871. 



Average Tempera- 

 ture near London. 



Rain in 

 43 years. 



Sun 



Eises. 



Smi 

 Sets. 



Moon 

 Kises. 



Moon 

 Bets. 



Moon's 

 Ase. 



Clock 

 after 

 Sun. 



Day 



of 



Year. 



14 

 15 

 16 

 17 

 18 

 19 

 20 



Th 



P 



S 



Son 



M 



To 



W 



Brighton Autumn Show closes. 



Bury and West Suffolk Horticultural Show. 



Length of night llh 24m. 



15 Sunday after Trinity. 



Eoyal Horticultural Society, Fruit, Floral, 

 [ and General Meeting. 



Day. 



67.0 



67.5 



68.4 



6f<.9 



68.2 



67.3 



68.0 



Nipht. 

 46.1 

 45,9 

 40.3 

 44.9 

 46.5 

 45.3 

 44.0 



Mean. 

 56 5 

 66.7 

 67.6 

 66.9 

 57.4 

 56.8 

 56.0 



16 

 IS 

 16 

 19 

 21 

 20 



m. h. 

 S8 afS 

 35 6 

 86 5 

 88 5 

 40 5 



42 5 



43 5 



m. h. 

 16af6 

 14 6 

 12 6 

 10 6 

 7 6 

 6 8 

 2 6 



m, h. 



42 4 

 6 

 17 7 

 37 8 

 68 9 

 21 11 

 after. 



m. h. 

 40 af 6 

 7 

 18 7 

 37 7 

 59 7 

 26 8 

 69 8 



Days. 

 « 

 1 

 2 

 3 

 4 

 6 

 6 



m. 8. 

 4 24 

 4 45 

 6 6 

 6 27 

 6 49 

 6 10 

 6 31 



257 

 258 

 259 

 260 

 261 

 262 

 263 



From observations taken near London during lorty-threa years, the aTorage day temperature nt the week is 67.9°, and its night tem- 

 perature 45.6°. The greatest heat was 87", on the 15th, 1865 ; and the lowest cold 29°, on the 17th, 1840. The greatest fall of rain was 

 0.90 inch. 



H )RTICULTURAL PARIS IN 1871.— No. 1. 



ND did you find Paris very muoli altered ? " 

 is the invariable question one is met with 

 ■when you confess to having been there. To 

 this question tliere must be various replies ; 

 in some respects one would say, Not in the 

 least. You see the same fldnfurs on the 

 boulevards, the men who seem to have no- 

 thing to do but stroll about, or sit down and sip 

 cafe or orgeat, &o. Go into the restaurants, 

 and there is the veritable Adolphe or Jeau 

 who served you a year ago : the oooher of the fiacre hands 

 you the ticket which might be the fellow of that lie gave 

 you in 1870 ; the same grey horses (we thought they were 

 all eaten) draw along the omnibus ; you receive your hiUet 

 de correspoitdance as before ; you go to your hotel, the very 

 same concierge greets jon as determined as ever to cheat 

 you if possible, Antoine lights you to your chamber with 

 hopes of " pourboire " dancing before his eyes, and you 

 rub your eyes and begin to think that the war of 1870 

 and the Commune of 1871 were all a dream. But you go 

 out again ; you stroll into the Place de la Concorde, and 

 thence up the Tuileries gardens ; you see that the whole 

 fa9ade of the Palace is gone ; that the barracks that faced 

 the Rue Rivoli are shattered ; that the Palais Royal (the 

 Palace itself) is a ruin — the shops and restaurants and 

 gardens remain as ever — that you can dine at Vessens or 

 the Trois-freres if you like and if your pocket will afford it, 

 as of yore. On further still, you come on the blackened 

 mass of the Hotel de Ville, the theatre of the Opera Lyrique, 

 and the Palais de Justice, and you are now aware that all 

 that you have heard of the wretched atrocities of Ferre, 

 Lullier, Felix Pyat, and others was not a dream, and the 

 wonder is that all Paris did not fall. 



But that point of view which will suggest itself to the 

 readers of the Journal is, Is Paris very much changed in 

 a horticultural point of view ? how have fared the gardens, 

 places, promauades, and parks ? I think it is impossible 

 not to admire the energy with which Paris has endeavoured 

 to repair her disasters. When one recollects that some of 

 these places — as, for example, the Pare de Moneeaux — were 

 converted for a time into huge burial-places, and that now 

 they are fresh and green with early-sown grass, it does 

 argue a good deal for the love of beauty that certainly 

 marks the French as a people. Again, I think that all 

 who have visited Paris, and who hope to do so again, will 

 rejoice to know that the trees which gave such a peculiar 

 charm to the boulevards remain untouched, and do not 

 seem to have suffered at all by the disasters of the war 

 when fuel was so scarce ; and the deliberately-planned 

 and solidly-executed barricades of the Commune despised 

 the use of such fi-ail materials, employed so often in former 

 revolutions. 



It is the same with that wonderful promenade the 

 Champs Elysees, so unlike anything anywhere else. The 

 trees remain as before, the cafes chantants, the concerts, the 

 merry-go-round, the marionnettes are all there as before, 

 and but few of the trees are injured. But withal this you 

 No. 646.— Vol, XSI., New Semes. 



at once see that there is a change ; you miss the beautiful 

 beds of flowering and foliage plants, the subtropical gems 

 that used to adorn the Pare de Moneeaux and other places, 

 and find that annuals, Petunias, and plants which can be 

 easily raised from seed have been obliged to take their 

 place. The scarcity of fuel and the fire of the batteries 

 had almost destroyed La Muette, whence the gardens of 

 Paris received their supplies, and as the Versailles troops 

 only entered Paris on the 18th of May, before which time 

 nothing had been done, the change which has been made 

 is marvellous. A friend of mine told me that when he 

 entered Paris after the Commune there was not a blade of 

 grass to be seen in the Pare de Moneeaux. It is the same 

 with other and smaller places. As to the .Jardin d'Acclima- 

 tation and, the Jardin des .Plantes, the former is literally 

 a desert, and the latter filled with tents and soldiers, so 

 that a passage through them is impracticable. The green- 

 houses, too, are nearly empty. M. Decaisne, the able and 

 accomplished Director, has appealed for help to rehabilitate 

 his houses, and I doubt not his appeal will meet with a 

 ready response. The garden of the Luxembourg seemed 

 to have fared the best, and was the gayest I saw, but this 

 was dependant on its own resources, and although the 

 losses were great, yet a goodly number of plants must 

 have been preserved to enable M. Riviere to make the 

 display he did. 



It speaks well for the recuperative powers of France 

 that the Paris markets seem to be supplied as heretofore. 

 All who are interested in seeing what the Parisians aim at 

 in fruit and vegetables must go the Halles Centrales, and 

 there I find no lack of either. There were plenty of the 

 rich luscious Peaches of Montreuil selling at 2d. and dd. 

 each, smaller ones at Id , ripe Chasselas Grapes at 60 cen- 

 times per pound ; while 'the bouquet-makers were as busy 

 as ever, chatting over theit'work, and looking as merry 

 as if they had never had two sieges to go through. It was 

 the same in the flower market at the Madeleine and on the 

 Quais. There was an abundant supply of plants all neatly 

 arranged in their clean white paper envelopes, and appa- 

 rently abundance of purchasers, while the well-known 

 establishments of Filleul, Bourjon, Prevost, &c., had, as 

 usual, their dainty-looking bouquets and bright and bril- 

 liant-looking plants in their windows. 



I have thus given one side of the medal ; alas ! there is 

 an obverse, and of this I shall write when I come to de- 

 scribe " outside Paris." There are scenes of desolation that 

 make the heart sick to look at when one contemplates the 

 destruction, and thinks of the awful histories connected 

 with these ruins. But more of this anon. — D., Deal. 



THE PHLOX AND ITS CULTURE. 



This is certainly the most beautiful of hardy autumn 

 flowers ; it is easilj' cultivated, and a succession of flowers 

 can be obtained from it in the latter part of summer and 

 throughout the autumn. It is extremely valuable for 

 planting in mixed borders, and for the flower garden ; also 

 for growing in pots for the decoration of the greenhouse and 

 conservatory. Although the Phlox is worthy of cultivation 

 No. 1198.— Vol. XL VI., Old Sesieb. 



