402 JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 



LILIES AT YALDING, IN KENT. 

 By Captain Savile Reid. 



The following notes do not pretend to contain anything new or of 

 scientific value in . the study of Lilies, but I venture, nevertheless, to hope 

 that a few practical remarks on my failures and successes in growing 

 these glorious flowers here may prove of some use to those who, like my- 

 self, have fallen victims to their charms. 



I have always loved a Lily. My earliest remembrance of its fascina- 

 tion dates back to my childhood, when the unexpected sight of a fine 

 auratmn in bloom in a pot in the conservatory at home nearly took my 

 breath away. I had never seen anything so beautiful before, and made 

 up my mind that when I was big and rich I would have a conservatory 

 full of L. auratum in bloom all the year round, so that I could always be 

 smelling and admiring them, regardless of the yellow pollen on my nose ! 

 In these days of "cold storage" of bulbs my childish desires might 

 indeed have been realised, if only the riches had increased with the years. 

 But it is the out-door culture of Lilies that now monopolises my more 

 modest aspirations, and as I feel sure that there are many Lily-growers 

 who are striving to beautify their gardens and shrubberies with these 

 flowers, independently of their conservatories and greenhouses, I am 

 emboldened to call their attention to a few species with which I have had 

 experience. 



, To begin with the commonest, yet perhaps the most beautiful of all, 

 L. candidmu, the "Madonna" Lily— I found my Kentish garden six 

 years ago well stocked with this Lily, in clumps alongside a grass border, 

 and they did well and flowered satisfactorily for two or three summers. 

 Then came the horrible, and to me at that time unknown, Lily " disease," 

 a foul fungus that shrivelled up the whole plant slowly and surely, from 

 bottom to top, just as the flowers were showing. All my clumps suffered, 

 and I knew not what to do. I tried watering with soot and lime-water, 

 and many other remedies, in vain. 



Fortunately, I read in one of the gardening papers at that time a 

 letter from a gentleman at Midhurst — I think he was the head master of 

 the Grammar School there — detailing his experiences and suggesting a 

 remedy for the disease. 



So in the autumn, perhaps a little late, for the first cio]) of leaves had 

 made its appearance, I set to work (rather doubtfully, I admit) and dug 

 up all my bulbs, some 250 in number. . They were laid carefully on the 

 floor of an empty vinery, and as fast as the gardener and myself could 

 deal with them were operated on and replanted in fresh places. The 

 treatment was simple enough : about a dozen bulbs were put into a linen 

 bag with flowers of sulphur, and gently shaken for a few minutes horizon- 

 tally, till they looked like yellow balls of sulphur. All were replanted 

 within forty-eight hours, except one poor unfortunate batch of a dozen, 

 which somehow escaped notice, and were left in the linen bag hanging up 



