178 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



[ September 8, 1870. 



margin. The grass itself was in excellent trim, and I was 

 informed they used Green's machine. I asked if they had 

 seen the Archimedean, and produced the picture which gives 

 -Jacky so much anxiety as to how the man has broken the 

 handle, but I fancied my attendant had some idea I was an 

 agent fishing for an order, and was, therefore, not very com- 

 municative on the subject of grass. 



The house faces terrace No. 2, and is in itself an object of 

 great attraction to visitors, from the costly character of the 

 internal decorations. In the front are several flower beds, in 

 some of which Mrs. Pollock Geranium was growing in great 

 perfection, the masses of richly-variegated foliage showing to 

 great effect. The centre of the terrace, which is 254 yards long, 

 and is being extended to about 600 yards, is occupied by a lawn 

 with a ribbon border on each side ; that to the south, or remote 

 side, being edged with Flower of the Day Geranium, with rows 

 ■ of Calceolarias and scarlet Geraniums, intermixed with a pretty 

 ornamental Grass, and bounded by a Yew hedge — a low, living, 

 green wall, alone worth going to see. At either end of the 

 lawn is an oval-shaped raised bed of four steps, the first con- 

 sisting of a front of Ivy, carpeted with Calceolarias and Flower 

 of the Day Geranium ; then more Ivy, and a floor of scarlets ; 

 next Ivy, and a surface of white ; then Ivy again, crowned with 

 dwarf white Dahlias. But the most pleasing feature on this 

 beautiful terrace was the fragrance emitted from an inscription 

 on a tablet built into an Ivy-covered wall supporting one of 

 ■the upper slopes. 



" Stranger, within these grounds, 

 Whoe'er thou art, 

 No limitation of thy freedom fear ; 

 Go where thou wilt, 

 And when thou wilt, depart, 

 Since for thy pleasure all is ordered here. 



" E. S. E." 



It is needless to say whose initials are these, nor is it a matter 

 of surprise to find the writer's name uttered by the poor with 

 blessings, as well it may be, connected as it is with unostenta- 

 tious acts of practical Christian charity. I will just stay to 

 remark that this little Eden is open from morning till night to 

 all who choose to lift the latch of any of its gates. No fear of 

 being told it is not convenient, or that the "family" are at 

 home, or of being warned oft" and told to " go away, go away ; 

 it's private property, private property!" If the "family" 

 meet you, it will raise its hat if you be a lady, or bid you a 

 hearty good-day and welcome if you be a gentleman ; and then, 

 if you be a true gentlewoman or gentleman, you will neither 

 lean over the Tew hedge or press it out of shape, nor splash 

 about in the fish pond. I saw both done, and should have 

 -thought it no sin to pitch one offender over the hedge, and 

 baptise the other. 



The slope from this terrace to the next is clothed with Ivy 

 kept close to the ground, and a more effective foliage cannot 

 tie conceived. Along it runs what may either be called a Lime 

 avenue or another Rose bower. The Lime trees are trained to 

 ■very prettily- designed rusticwork, and are already assuming 

 the characteristic form of the trelliswork, which will ultimately 

 be removed. They form a beautiful leafy canopy overhead. 

 The spaces between the trees are occupied with Roses, while 

 here and there a straggling piece of Ivy from the slope has 

 been allowed to add its share to the beauty of this shady re- 

 treat. At the east end is a roomy summer-house, oval-shaped, 

 with a roof of bark thatched with heather, containing rustic 

 tables, chairs, and lounges. More slopes, more Ivy, more 

 flowers, and we are on the lowest terrace, in the centre of which 

 are a large circular basin and fountain. The Yew hedge, which 

 forms the extreme south boundary of this walk, is 3 feet high, 

 and of the same width, clipped exactly square with astonish- 

 ing accuracy. 



The view from this point is very fioe. The Tyne is seen 

 running eastward for some distance. To the west, at a short 

 distance, lies the quaint little town of Hexham, the tower of 

 the Abbey church standing out grandly above the surrounding 

 buildings, which seem snugly nestled in among the trees at the 

 foot of the hills, a little cloud of bluish smoke floating over, 

 marking its site and apparent area. Almost in front, on the 

 further eide of the river, surrounded by its majestic woods, is 

 seen the solitary tower of Dilston Castle, a grim memorial of 

 the bygone glories of the Derwentwater family, while stretch- 

 ing far beyond to the south lie the hills enclosing the valley of 

 the Tyne. To the west is Corbridge with its church, not so 

 i pretentious, perhaps, as the more majestic pile at Hexham, but 

 replete with interest. We pass close under its shadow as we 

 return home. Just one word about this hoary old temple before I 



I say good-bye to a day whose pleasures I shall long remember. 

 Seeing the doors open one morning, and hearing the voices of 

 the choristers, I entered, and found that it was the celebration 

 of Divine service on the occasion of one of the festivals of the 

 Church. Perhaps I was impelled by curiosity, for I had heard 

 of the ritualistic services of Corbridge. What a blind thing 

 is prejudice ! I had been led by hearsay to expect to see 

 nothing less than a cloven hoof peeping from beneath the 

 cassock, but I could perceive nothing but the ctobs elevated 

 with a majestic simplicity. The congregation was not large, 

 as might easily be expected in a country village on a week day, 

 but the service was most impressively rendered by the vicar, 

 the Rev. Mr. Gipps, M.A. He kindly spent fully an hour, nay 

 more, after service was over in pointing out to me every object 

 of interest in the building, which has been only lately restored 

 under his own immediate superintendence. A more enthusi- 

 astic ecclesiastical antiquarian it has never been my pleasure 

 to meet ; and bringing to bear on the subject a scholarly mind, 

 he invested every stone in the old church with a history of its 

 own, converting old grey, time-eaten blocks by a touch of his 

 magician's wand into living testimonies of that undying faith 

 which our forefathers handed down to us. It was plainly to 

 be seen, too, how the desolating effects of war had visited the 

 sacred building. Here in one corner of the noble tower are 

 unmistakeable evidences of the troopers in the border warfare, 

 or in the bloody wars of the Roses, having bivouacked under 

 its shelter, and in another are the marks where they sharpened 

 their pikes upon its corner stones, while the effects of fire are 

 observable everywhere. I said it was an old church, a very old 

 church, nobody knows how old, and so it is. — W. A. Blaksion. 



BEDDING PLANTS IN 1870. 



(Continued from page 148.) 



• In continuing my remarks on bedding Geraniums, I come 



next to the reds, as Mrs. Laing, King of the Nosegays, and 



Rebecca. 



Mrs. Laing is very dwarf and free-flowering, and is a very 

 useful sort, as it seems to stand weather well ; the colour is 

 rather dull. King of the Nosegays has a very fine truss, and is 

 of good habit ; it is a bright shade of red, and deserves a trial 

 everywhere. 



Rebecca, though free-flowering, has run to seed with me very 

 much this year, and I have heard the same complaint from 

 others. It is one of the very best, however, for pot culture for 

 winter blooming. 



I will next take the cerise-coloured, as Violet Hill, Dachess, 

 Amy Hogg, Dr. Hogg, Arthur Pearson, &c. 



Violet Hill is Btill my type of the best bedding Geranium 

 I have ever seen. It only requires good treatment to remain 

 in full beauty all the summer months. It is very compact and 

 dwarf, branches naturally, and is one of the freest bloomers 

 both as a bedder and a pot plant I have ever seen. It is not 

 much in nurserymen's hands, because it requires time to pro- 

 pagate a stock of it, and in some gardens it has been discarded 

 because it has not grown enough, but it will well repay any 

 extra care in saving all old plants, and liberally manuring the 

 beds before planting ; for however freely it may be made to 

 grow, it will always blossom as freely. 



Duchess is a good sort for a back row, and it did well this 

 dry summer in Gloucestershire, but it is too coarse most sea- 

 sons. It is another good sort for winter blooming. 



Amy Hogg is too well known to require much comment. I 

 still think it too long in the footstalk. Arthur Pearson is very 

 like Amy Hogg, with rather a rounder flower, and stronger foot- 

 stalk. 



Dr. Hogg is a decided improvement on Amy Hogg — a very 

 bright telling colour without being gaudy, and a free bloomer. 

 It is rather apt to run to seed, but this has been too much the 

 case with most Geraniums this year. It makes a beautiful 

 pot plant, and is one of the freest bloomers of any in the winter. 

 It is altogether a very valuable variety. 



Comte de Morny is one of the best Zonals, as it has naturally 

 a branching habit; its colour is more pink than Amy Hogg, 

 and it is decidedly the best bedder I know in that colour. 



Roi d'ltalie and Glorious are much about the same shade of 

 colour, cerise with an orange shade. Rii d'ltalie has fine in- 

 dividual flowers but small trusses, and does not stand weather 

 well. Glorious has done well this year. 



Indian Yellow has a very peculiar shade of colour, is one of 

 the freest-blooming Geraniums of any, and is always worth 



