July 30, 1890.] 



Garden and Forest. 



367 



mayor whose name the hill now hears, it was planted to the 

 top, chiefly with Aleppo Pines, which are mingled with 

 Cvpresses and other trees, and near the paths a thick growth 

 of shrubs. The walks are as thickly shaded as in a natural 

 forest, and every now and then give us an enchanting glimpse 

 of the lower gardens. About half way up they widen into a 

 broad terrace-like path, running straight across the hill, and 

 extending heyond the slope we have ascended, above a more 

 precipitous slope, where a great retaining wall sustains it. 

 Here one may pause to rest, to enjoy the beautiful prospect 

 over the city. 



Above this terrace the ascent is somewhat less steep and 

 the paths straighter, and finally, when the relief has been well 

 earned, we come out on a small, level, naked plateau, in the 

 centre of which rises the famous Tour Magne. 



This is a large and lofty ruined tower, evidently of Roman 

 handiwork, which we can ascend for the sake of a magnificent 

 panorama — Nimes on one side, and a vast, green, broken, vil- 

 lage-dotted plain elsewhere, encircled by distant hills, whose yel- 

 low bareness, contrasted with the green lowlands, gives us the 

 full beauty of color that characterizes the Midi in midsummer. 

 Surely nowhere else does so impressive a monument, looking 

 on so magnificent a scene, give the finishing charm — literally 

 the crowning charm — to gardens so lovely and so varied. 

 Hardly in its perfect estate could the tower have been more 

 impressive than now, an almost shapeless yet splendid giant, 

 golden yellow and gray in color, and fringed all over with lit- 

 tle flowering plants, among which here and there a young 

 wild Fig-tree has taken vigorous root in some larger crevice. 

 The hill-top around it is bare and encircled with a wall over 

 which one gets views almost as fine as from the top of the 

 tower itself. 



Turning away at last, descending the forest-clad slopes in 

 the brilliant sunset light and coming to terrace after terrace, 

 we pause again on the lowest to note once more the effect of 

 Marechal's Rococo garden. We may abuse the Louis Ouinze 

 period as we will from the point of view of that " high art" 

 which means serious intellectual work with brush and chisel. 

 But it was a truly artistic period none theless — with clearideals 

 of its own and great skill in expressing them; a period 

 which created works of genuine and individual beauty, though 

 this beauty meant grace and charm rather than nobility and 

 power. Above all, it was a period of decorative art, and no- 

 where did it find a better field than in gardening. The sins of 

 those who made this garden and "improved" the Roman 

 baths were great, according to the conscience of our archaeolo- 

 gical times. But they produced a wonderful new work of art, 

 while, had we such relics of antiquity to deal with, we should 

 only produce an out-door museum of relics. 



A point to be noted, as in contrast to our northern ideas of 

 garden-making, is that all this beauty exists with scarcely any 

 use of grass. There are no lawns save the one bit which runs 

 beneath the perpendicular cliff. Even Mowers, against which 

 the climate does not protest as it does against grass, play no 

 important role, except in the shape of flowering shrubs. But 

 for the intrusive beds already referred to, there are flowers 

 only in a few places between the avenues, where little rectan- 

 gular beds lie, surrounded with Box edgings. Gravel, marble, 

 shrubs and trees — these are the elements with which the de- 

 signer has worked. Yet the trees are so many and so fine that, 

 while they do not interfere with the effect of the architectural 

 features, they cover most of the garden with a cool green roof, 

 and its general aspect, even in midsummer, is deliciously um- 

 brageous and refreshing. When the trees are bare in the short 

 midwinter of this region, the wisdom of planting so many 

 broad-leaved evergreen shrubs must be manifest. But sum- 

 mer is the time to see the south of France. Then, and then 

 only, it is truly the Midi; truly the enchanting half-way station 

 between the real north and the real tropical south, combining 

 the beauties of both, and vexing us neither by the cold rains 

 and dull skies of the one nor by the unbearable heat of the 

 other. 



The Alleg-hanies of Virginia in June. 



MOUNTAIN LAKE, the new name of the pretty little sheet 

 of water which for nearly a century has been known by 

 the herdsmen as Salt or Salting Pond, from the fact that they 

 used to collect there to count and salt their cattle, is situated 

 at the foot of Bald Knob, in Giles County, at an altitude of 

 about 4,000 feet. The lake, as well as 100,000 acres of moun- 

 tain and valley land around it, belongs to a gentleman in 

 Washington, who also owns the comfortable hotel at its head. 

 It is a mile long, closely surrounded by an almost impenetra- 

 ble thicket of Rhododendron maximum and Kalmia latifolia, 



and overshadowed by a few tall old Hemlocks and by high 

 rocky ridges, which are covered by a young growth of White 

 Oak and Black Birch. 



The Rhododendron and Kalmia make such a display as 

 they only make in the southern Alleghanies, many of them ap- 

 proaching twenty feet in height. The Kalmia was in bud and 

 just beginning to bloom when we reached Salt Pond Moun- 

 tain on the 30th of May. Great beds of Viola blanda, V. pri- 

 mulcrfolia, and V.cucullata, with its variety, grow down to the 

 water's edge on the sloping meadow in front of the hotel. It 

 is the home of Violets. Two yellow ones, V. pubescens and 

 V. hastata, are in bloom in the woods near by ; V. rotundi- 

 folia and V. sagittata are ripening their seeds on the shady 

 hill-side, and V. Canadensis has followed us up the mountain, 

 where, in a swamp by the road, it is nearly a foot tall, the flowers 

 large and showy, all the pretty white petals showing a delicate 

 lilac beneath. V. pedata grows along the path to Bald Knob, 

 and up there, on the exposed south side of the ridge among 

 stunted patches of Kalmia and Vaccinium, is the prettiest of 

 all, the light blue and velvety purple V. pedata, var. bicolor, as 

 large and much more showy than the typical plant growing 

 near it. 



Bald Knob is about 4,500 feet in altitude, the highest of the 

 Alleghanies of Virginia, it is claimed, and from the summit five 

 states are said to be in sight. The view is very beautiful. The 

 great ranges of mountains, stretching north into West Virginia 

 and south into North Carolina, are all densely wooded as well 

 as most of the valleys, though there are many small, poorly 

 tilled farms scattered among the mountains. Bald Knob is at 

 the end of a long rocky ridge, and is one vast flower-garden. 

 The old gray rocks are covered with Saxifraga leucanthcmi- 

 folia in full bloom, and deep down in a cool crevice the tiny 

 Asplenium montanum has found a firm foothold in every 

 crevice. Heuchera villosa is there also, and side by side grow 

 Ilex monticola and Ribes rotundifolia. Further down on the 

 slope another Gooseberry, Ribes Cynosbali, is ripening its cu- 

 rious prickly fruit. 



On the ridge opposite, just above the lake, the flame-colored 

 Azalea [Rhododendron calendulaceum) flaunts its gorgeous 

 flowers. They are of every shade, from light lemon-yellow to 

 the most brilliant fire-red, and make a great contrast to the 

 pretty, delicate rose-pink flowers of Rhododendron nudi- 

 flortun which grows amongst it. Both Azaleas and the 

 Mountain Laurel are abundant through the woods. The true 

 Lily-of-the-Valley, Convallaria viajalis, is everywhere under 

 our feet; its white bells larger and most fragrant, its beautiful 

 glossy leaves taller and wider than those of the cultivated plants 

 at home. Its companion among the rocks is Anemone trifolia, 

 a much larger and coarser plant than the delicate little Wind- 

 flower {A, Nemorosa) that grows in low swampy ground near 

 New York. Both Clintonias are here, C. umbellata, with its 

 snowy umbels and broad shining leaves, and the less showy, 

 but equally pretty, C. borealis, with its graceful clusters of light 

 greenish bells, which later on will turn into conspicuous um- 

 bels of bright blue berries ; and, abundant all through the 

 woods, with their heads well up, in tail, stiff groups, are the 

 curious fragrant flowers of the smaller yellow Lady's Slipper 

 (Cypripedium parvijlonoii). The stemless Lady's Slipper (C. 

 acanle) is as plentiful up on the mountain as it is in the sand}' 

 woods of Massachusetts and New Jersey. Sedtcm lernalum 

 makes great mats on the rocks in the woods and is still in 

 bloom, and near the top of the slope we come upon a great 

 patch of the Painted Cup (Caslilleia coccinea), its scarlet flow- 

 ers making brilliant patches of color through the low growth 

 of young Birches. 



Trillium grandiflorum is the most common of the mountain 

 flowers, and well deserves its specific name, though it varies 

 so greatly in size and color that it seems hardly possible that 

 the one name can fit all its forms. It is white, pink and a deep 

 magenta, some of the great petals three inches long, others 

 again not larger than those of the pretty, delicate little 

 Painted Trillium (7! erythrocarpuni) that grows with it. The 

 Blazing Star (Chamalirium liiteuiu) is very conspicuous, its 

 tall, graceful white spikes often six inches long and three- 

 quarters of an inch thick. 



One of the most interesting among the flowering shrubs is 

 Crataegus coccinea. We find two specimens near the road, one 

 in full bloom, the other in fruit. The great bunches of large 

 white flowers are a relief from the brilliant coloring all 

 around us. 



Above all this gay wild garden are some picturesque old 

 White Oaks, their young pinkish leaf-buds and small gray 

 leaves as beautiful as the flowers which run riot at their 

 feet. The wind that sweeps unhindered over the ridge has 

 twisted their branches into all sorts of fantastic shapes, and 



