35 
SIR PETER EADE ON “ MY CITY GARDEN.” 
is given in my book on St. Giles’s parish, published in 1886, 
although I fear that this scarcely adequately pictures its grandeur. 
Blomfield states that the great avenue of elm trees in Chapel 
Field, also partly visible from my garden, was planted in 1746 by 
Sir Thomas Churchman, who is understood to have then lived in 
my present house, and who, I believe, then hired the open Chapel 
Field of the Norwich Corporation. It may be interesting to state 
here that some throe or four years ago one of the largest of that 
row of elm trees was blown down in a gale. When this tree 
was sawn across, I took the trouble to count the rings which this 
section displayed. The outer ones were so thin and irregular that 
it was not possible to tell their number quite exactly, but as nearly 
as I could count the total number was between 140 and 150. 
This number, added to the few which would exist on the young 
tree when planted, would give a date approximating very closely 
to that assigned by Blomfield. This is an interesting historical 
fact, though, perhaps, somewhat irrelevant, and its mention will, 
I hope, be excused on this ground. 
In my own garden the various trees appear to be healthy, but 
some of them increase very slowly. A small pear tree planted 
against the ivy-covered wall some twenty years ago is scarcely 
larger than when planted there, even although it every year sends 
out a full quantity of fresh green shoots. And a pink thorn tree, 
transplanted into it a few years ago, actually remained perfectly 
quiescent, as if dead, for a whole year, and then resumed vitality 
and growth. It is now a vigorous healthy tree, sending forth 
every year its normal shoots and blossoms. 
Animal Life. — Such a garden as mine affords a considerable 
opportunity for observing the ways, and habits, and manners of 
many animals , none of which are uninteresting. Shall I weary you 
by mentioning the cats, which so often make it their playground, 
and their afternoon as well as their nightly meeting-place ? Although 
I cannot say that caterwauling is harmonious, or equivalent to the 
strains of the bands which so agreeably discourse music in the 
adjacent Chapel Field on summer evenings, yet there is much of 
interest, as well as amusement, to be derived from noting the varied 
yet distinct language, and from watching the very curious customs 
of the cats themselves, familiar as these may be to all of us. I am 
favoured with visits of cats of all sizes and all colours — black, grey, 
D 2 
