350 



Garden and Forest. 



[July 24, 1889. 



similar in duration, is the one which stood and perhaps 

 still stands on an island in the Ohio River near the 

 mouth of the Muskingum, which was measured by Wash- 

 ington in his early days and again by Michaux twenty 

 years later, when its circumference was found to have 

 but slightly increased and to be forty feet, four inches at 

 five feet from the ground. It is a pigmy, however, in 

 comparison with one of the Seven Brothers, which, it is 

 stated measures 1 50 feet. 



In Scotland, we are told, the Sycamore Maple is fre- 

 quently called the Plane tree, and thus the cycle of confusion 

 is complete. 



The name we have been discussing is sometimes spelled 

 Sycamore and sometimes Sycomore. Both spellings 

 are permissible, but, although the use of the seems 

 more logical, in view of the derivation from Sykon, the a 

 is preferred by the best modern English authorities. Most 

 of them do not associate differences in spelling with differ- 

 ent significations, but we have found it stated in one 

 horticultural dictionary that the should be used in writ- 

 ing of the true Sycamore, and the a in writing of the 

 Sycamore Maple. In modern foreign tongues the is 

 universally employed, and in colloquial French we find 

 the same mistake as in colloquial English — Sycomore 

 being constantly used in the stead oi Erable faux-platane — 

 Sycamore Maple. 



How to Mask the Foundations of a Country 

 House. — I. 



"VrOTHING is more essential to the beauty of a country-place 

 -L^ than that the foundations of the house should be properly 

 connected with the ground from which they spring. The house 

 should look as though it belonged where it stood and could 

 not be moved to another spot without detriment ; and all the 

 devices of the gardener at a distance from its walls will not 

 give it this appearance unless the walls themselves seem inte- 

 grally united to the soil. 



The first step towards the production of this effect must be 

 taken by the architect. Not very many years ago a broken, irreg- 

 ular site was considered, in this country, undesirable for build- 

 ing on, and, when it could not be avoided, was often levelled 

 that the foundations might be made as mechanically symmetri- 

 cal as possible. But of late our ai'chitects have realized the 

 folly of neglecting the chance to unite a house well with its site 

 and at the same time to secure individuality and, possibly, 

 great picturesqueness, and have seen that it is still more fool- 

 ish to spend time and money in destroying such a chance 

 when it cannot be evaded. 



When the slopes of an irregular site are gentle and devoid 

 of stones a beautiful result can be achieved by respecting their 

 undulations, laying more or fewer courses of masonry accord- 

 ing as they fall or rise, and bringing the grass up to the walls 

 in an uneven, billowy, yet not too broken line. No better ex- 

 ample of such treatment can be found than in the Public 

 Library at Ouincy, Massachusetts, a work of Richardson's 

 which has been familiarized by repeated illustrations. When 

 the site is rocky and when local stone can be used, rough-faced, 

 for the foundations, as charming a result of a more strikingly 

 picturesque kind can be achieved, as we see in Richardson's 

 Public Library at North Easton — where the i-ock-like turret 

 seems almost to have gi-own naturally from the rocky hill- 

 side — and in many cottages along the north shore of Massa- 

 chusetts Bay, built by Mr. Emerson and others. To have 

 levelled such sites as these would have injured the house as 

 greatly as the grounds about it. Now the two are in harmony 

 and each helps the effect of the other; while as the formation 

 of such sites is never twice alike, each home has that most 

 desirable of qualities — individuality. 



But even in cases where Nature has given the architect a 

 good chance to blend his work with hers something more is 

 needed to make the union seem perfect ; and this is doubly the 

 case when the site is fiat and the house must stand like a box 

 upon a floor. Some simple arrangement of terraces may then 

 be used with advantage if there is a difference of level between 

 the spot where the house stands and the adjacent street or 

 pleasure-grounds. But always something more is necessary — 

 always the planter must be called in to help the architect 

 whether Nature has helped him much or little. 



Nature has helped him most, of course, when the site is very 

 broken and rocky. Then the planting of a few vines against 

 the walls may often suffice to bring them into a close enough 



union with Mother Earth. It is a pity, however, that when 

 vines are relied upon to do this service, a single kind should 

 so often be chosen for repeated planting. A little thought in 

 the selection of different kinds which harmonize, yet contrast, 

 would produce a far more beautiful effect. It is well on a city 

 house to let Wistaria or Japanese Ivy alone clothe the walls. 

 Here there is no question of uniting site and walls, and we do 

 not want variety or picturesqueness in a street facade even 

 though it be a very wide one. A symmetrical architectonic 

 effect should be preserved, and for this purpose a Wistaria 

 trained on two or three wires stretched to the roof or a close 

 covering of Japanese Ivy is better than would be an interming- 

 ling of two or more different kinds of foliage. But on a coun- 

 try house, especially of the irregular, picturesque kind we most 

 often build, the presence of a single sort of vine produces an 

 undesirable monotony. In some parts it will look best to have 

 a vine which clings very closely to the walls ; in others a more 

 massed and freer growth will be preferable ; and contrasts of 

 color, density and habit in the clothing foliage will add immen- 

 sely to the general effect. 



But when the vines are once planted they should not be 

 allowed to grow at their own sweet will. A house is not like a 

 ruin or a cliff or a blasted tree where the wilder and more 

 erratic the growth of the creeper the more charming and ap- 

 propriate is the effect. It is (or should be) a work of art to 

 which all its immediate surroundings are subordinate ; and as 

 its prime end is to give its owners comfortable shelter, it should 

 always present — no matter how great its picturesqueness — a 

 neat, orderly, well-tended aspect. Its vines, therefore, should 

 be intelligently pruned and trained — not allowed to run ragged 

 yet not forced into unattractive, unnatural stiffness. They 

 should be pruned, but the fact that they have been pruned 

 should not be apparent. Nor should they ever be allowed to 

 cover a house entirely or to so great a degree that its architec- 

 tural character is concealed — unless, indeed, this character be 

 such that it deserves a shroud. To build a solid lower story 

 of stone and then allow it to be entirely hidden, even during 

 half the year, by a dense growth of foliage, is surely a mistake. 

 Not only is the beauty of the stone-work concealed, but the 

 effect of the upper stories, based, apparently, upon a substruc- 

 ture of fluttering leaves, is unsatisfactory to the eye. Vines 

 enough may be grown to beautify the walls in the highest pos- 

 sible degree and unite them well with the ground and yet 

 spaces be reserved, below as well as above, where the con- 

 structed surface shall appear — spaces which will indicate the 

 character of the walls as a whole and thus prevent the eye from 

 questioning the stability of any part. It is a good plan, also, to 

 train some vines so that they spread over portions of the 

 ground and thus make the transition between the soil and the 

 wall seem still more natural. A mass of Honeysuckle, for 

 instance, running out over rock or grass for a little distance is 

 a very beautiful object, and its bloom will seem even more 

 profuse in this than in an upright position. 



The Art of Gardening — An Historical Sketch. — VII. 

 Persia (continued). 



IT is noteworthy that even prmcely Persians did not confine 

 themselves to enjoying parks and gardens but shared in 

 their creation. Strabo says that after the active exercises of the 

 day were over young Persian noblemen were taught to plant 

 trees as well as to forge armor and weave hunting-nets. When 

 the Spartan Lysander visited the " paradise " of Cyrus the 

 Younger at Sardis, he said :* "I look with astonishment on all 

 these trees on account of their beauty, but am still more as- 

 tonished at the art of him who measured out the ground and 

 arranged them for you." Cyrus, on hearing this, " was de- 

 lighted," and said : " It was I, let me tell you, Lysander, that 

 measured out the ground and arranged all the trees myself ; 

 and there are some of them that I planted with my own 

 hands. Whenever I am in health I never dine until I have 

 put myself into a perspiration by pursuing some military or 

 agricultural occupation, or by contending for superiority in 

 some exercise of a similar nature." Lysander may well have 

 been surprised ; despite the active temperament of the Greeks 

 they left manual toil to their slaves, and to hear agricultural 

 coupled with military exercises, as similar in dignity and in- 

 terest, must indeed have been a novel sensation. 



What now were the gardens of these Persians who created 

 them on so extensive a scale and valued them so highly ? In 

 speaking of the parks of Bazaria, where Alexander hunted 

 lions, Quintus Curdus says : f "A spacious wood in which 



*Xenophon, The Economist. 

 t Life of Alexander. 



