THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 
May, 1915 
20(5 
Siebold’s primrose is the most striking of all the hardy 
kinds. (Primula cortusoides, var. Sieboldii). It looks 
delicate, but is quite hardy. This two-year old plant has 
seven stalks of bloom 
edges of the corolla are cut differently. In 
colonies that are undisturbed for some years, 
it is a most profuse bloomer and the long 
stems make it an excellent primrose for 
cutting. Whether this is the so-called 
Bardfield oxlip of England, I do not know. 
The latter is described as having pale buff- 
yellow flowers and funnel-shaped corolla 
and lacking the five bosses of the cowslip 
and primrose. I only know that my oxlip is 
of pure English blood and very, very, beau- 
tiful. 
England’s common “pale primrose” (P. 
vulgaris) is likewise rare here, though, I 
believe it is now naturalized on a small scale 
in some places. I have seen fine plants 
grown here from seed, but I have had no 
success in that direction myself. The few 
plants that I have were either purchased or 
brought over from England. They do 
very well indeed; one of them must have 
had forty blossoms at once last spring. 
There is no more beautiful hardy primrose 
than this and it is much more adaptable to 
American conditions than most suppose. 
Here I get into the troubled waters of 
primula nomenclature — of catalogue con- 
fusion. I am uncertain whether P. vul- 
garis or P. acaulis was doubled for the prim- 
rose lover ; possibly both. I style my double 
primroses P. acaulis for the reason that so I 
bought them. I have had complete suc- 
cess with the white, which is wholly admir- 
able, and the rose, which is not. Here, in 
truth, is a neglected flower that is well 
worth while. Only a few American gardens 
know it and to one famous collection of 
hundreds of perennials it has only just been 
added. “Unless,” says the Rev. P. Mules, 
an English enthusiast, “these flowers have 
been seen at their best, and that can only 
be under the favorable conditions of suit- 
able soil, pure air, and great experience in 
culture, no one can imagine their beauty. 
I have had a bed of the double white carry- 
ing at one time 4,000 fully expanded blooms, 
averaging if inches in diameter. Then we 
have double rose, double mauve, double dark 
lilac, double cerise, double sulphur, double 
yellow and double rose white mottled, be- 
sides these are some bright crimson, making 
a combination of colors which lend them- 
selves to many varieties of garden and house 
decoration.” This is not a quotation to 
be dismissed with an American “What’s 
the use!” I can grow beautiful enough 
double white primroses in my garden and 
I know that some of the colors will not prove 
beyond me whenever I manage to get the 
stock. Generally speaking, the darker 
the color the more difficult the culture; but, 
if need be, the red can be protected here by 
glass cover, or cloche, a practice not un- 
common in England — where double prim- 
roses do not do as well in the South as in 
the North; Ireland is a famous place for 
them. As for the white and rose, I see that 
they are in well drained soil, that they have 
shade and a fair amount of moisture in 
summer and light protection in winter. 
That is all and surely not too much pains. 
With the auricula ( P . auricula ), too, my 
experience has been that rather than let 
one’s self be utterly discouraged by the 
improbability of duplicating English suc- 
cess, it is better to make a try at it. You 
never know until you set about it how well 
you can do. I am one of the few that I 
know of who grow the auricula on this side 
of the Atlantic. One big nurseryman says 
that he can not winter it; but I have had no 
trouble in so doing. In fact, I find this 
very choice primula, of the rich velvety 
bloom, quite tractable. While I do not 
profess to have “crack” primulas, I have 
them quite good enough for my own enjoy- 
ment; and is that not something? I have 
quite a variety of the common border auri- 
cula — maroon, mauve and so on — and also 
the clear pale yellow, which, I take it, is 
only slightly removed, if at all, from the 
wild type of the Swiss mountains. The 
blossoms are smaller than the darker self- 
colored ones, with yellow or white eye, but 
no less beautiful. For bedding I regard 
it as the best, since its tone is definite. 
The hybrids are innumerable, as one may 
easily ascertain by planting a choice brand 
of seed. Germination is slow, and there 
is a British theory that the weakest looking 
seedlings are likely to furnish the most de- 
lightful color surprise. The “paste” auri- 
culas, the “show” class grown for “points,” 
it is idle to consider for the American gar- 
den, excepting under glass. 
Now for the more remote primulas; Asia 
has given my garden some of its best. There 
is P. cortusoides, var. Sieboldii, for one. I have 
half a dozen named varieties, ranging from 
white to deep brilliant rose, but the best is 
Robert Herold — which is rose with a white 
eye. This is one of the finest spring flowers 
that I have ever seen, especially in a colony 
long enough established to furnish a sheet 
of bloom. Though it looks delicate enough, 
I find it very hardy; but, unlike most pri- 
mulas, it leaves no trace of itself above 
The pale yellow auricula (Primula auricula). This is 
about the same as the original species of the Swiss Alps 
and is excellent for bedding purposes 
ground in winter. It needs sheltering from 
strong winds; so a rock garden on the edge 
of shrubbery is a good place for it. Light 
and rich soil are further requirements. 
Another disappearing primula, but quite 
as winter proof, is the Japanese primrose 
(P. japonica ). It not only carries the 
primula season along a bit but is an agree- 
able change in form, the blossoms being 
arranged in whorls, tier on tier— the stalk 
of bloom now and then rising to eighteen 
inches or two feet. In moist spots it may 
be naturalized and it will self-sow freely. 
In rich garden loam it does well if not al- 
lowed to be baked to death in summer. 
The crimson type varies to white, rose, and 
cerise, with an occasional pink and white 
combination that is not very attractive. 
“The lazy man’s primrose,” Mrs. Stephen 
Batson call it. “It will live and flower,” 
she says, “in the shady border of common 
loam; it will thrive in a damp ditch or in 
the wild garden, or in the shady rock gar- 
den, and rabbits will not eat it. Here is 
an opportunity indeed of getting a showy 
plant for a mininum of effort, and con- 
sequently many gardens that cannot dis- 
play a single plant of P. denticulata run riot 
in P. japonica.” 
Speaking of P. denticulata, a lilac prim- 
rose of the Himalayas, I am growing the 
beautiful form of it known as P. cash- 
meriana. This has round heads of small 
lilac blossoms, that are rather “mealy” and 
are borne on stems that may exceed a foot 
in length. The unusually good leaves are 
also very long. It needs some watching; 
it is apt to “damp off.” Another trick 
that it has is the development of the flower 
buds in fall to the point of bursting. Evi- 
dently it is used to an early snow blanket. 
But then a warm autumn will make most 
primulas try to anticipate spring. 
Then there is the blue, or Caucasian, 
primrose (P. amoena). It is a pretty thing, 
particularly where there is yellow to set it 
