The Garden Magazine, July, 1921 
321 
tangles punctuated with lean Lilies and Roses perched on walk- 
ing sticks. 
Curious as it may seem, the most valuable lesson learned 
by the American gardener abroad was developed from this 
fashion. He brought home with him a conviction that some 
such design should be generally adopted in this country. 
One hears at once protests from many Americans against 
formal plantings. To silence them, one need merely show how 
and why the idea persists in the small French gardens of to-day. 
For the new-fangled notions brought from Italy by Monsieur 
le Prince soon found their way to the farm of plodding Henri 
and humble Jacques. If the great lord must use every square 
foot of soil in the gardens of the chateau, how much more need- 
ful to plant every inch in the little walled enclosures behind the 
homesteads? So Henri and Jacques adopted the best of the 
ideas which he found at the great house. The tradition was 
so born, and thus survives. 
From memories of small and humble French gardens with- 
out number emerges a typical plantation, radiating a spirit of 
thrift and fragrant with many flowers; in character almost 
the garden of an ancient Roman farm as pictured by Cato, 
“with garland flowers 
and vegetables of all 
kinds, set about with 
myrtle hedges, bothwhite 
and black, as well as Del- 
phic and Cyprian laurel.” 
Narrow footpaths of 
beaten earth divide the 
French enclosure into 
rectangles. Along the 
oathsare dwarf fruit trees 
—Apples, Pears, Cherries 
and Plums — interspersed 
vith Grape vines fastened 
to stakes. Lilacs, Camel- 
fas and old Roses, their 
;rowns of foliage set on 
thick, straight stems. 
The dwarf trees and the 
shrubs are trimmed high, 
sometimes umbrella- 
: ashion; beneath them 
are the more tender seed- 
mgs and borders of flow- 
ers. In the open spaces 
vithin the borders grow 
the vegetables. Nowhere 
s turf visible. 
That the vegetables 
march in battalions of 
dose formation may be 
taken for granted. The 
shrubberies and flowers 
along the edges are meas- 
ured by the laborer’s 
fancy and industry. Poor 
and busy indeed must be 
the gardener who restricts 
bimself to fruit trees and 
a stray Iris or Lilac. In 
the gardens of the well- 
to-do, the borders are 
processions of Violets, Lily-of-the-Valley Dianthus, Rock Cress 
(Arabis) and similar perennials of low or creeping habit. 
Should such a garden become a model for plantings in Amer- 
ica? Economy of space, larger returns for effort, the beauty 
uf flowers dividing interest with the utility of vegetables, and an 
sasier conquest of weeds when all of the soil is under intensive 
cultivation are points to recommend it; especially in a small 
place, with advancing real estate values or difficult problems of 
hired labor. As has been hinted, contraction is a vital reality 
with the Frenchman, in which the necessity of making his home 
a fortress, smaller acreage, and a denser population are deter- 
mining factors. In this country where such conditions have 
not existed the American has fallen into the habit of extravagant 
expansion. The French gardener cultivates intensively spaces 
corresponding with those which we use for lawns. He would 
suggest that if every foot of our turf were planted with flowers 
and vegetables, the former would satisfy our cravings for 
beauty and the latter give tangible returns for otherwise barren 
labor. By planting dense shrubberies in the remaining unpro- 
ductive spaces, as the French do, ample opportunity would be 
afforded for variety and seclusion. The foreign gardener would 
probably add that we need groves and shady nooks in our home 
grounds more than do the French or English, because the heat 
of our summers is greater than that of the corresponding months 
abroad. In passing be it noted that the description just given of 
a small French planting would apply with equal accuracy to 
many English kitchen gardens. 
Another custom of the French, also based on necessity and 
tradition, recommends itself to the American gardener, al- 
though possibly less con- 
vincingly so than the in- 
tensive garden. This is 
the use of a forecourt as 
an approach to the home, 
replacing our “front 
yard,” and the retirement 
of living rooms and gar- 
dens to the rear of the 
dwellings. 
Doubtless the French 
practice may be traced to 
the several enclosures of 
the old chateaux and to 
the courtyards of farm- 
houses, when both classes 
of dwelling were fort- 
resses as well as homes. 
It has survived in the 
tradition that dwellings 
of every class should face 
or surround interiorareas, 
whether they be ancient 
mansions hidden behind 
gateways and offices in 
the Faubourg Saint- 
Germain, the British Em- 
bassy in the Rue Saint- 
Honore and the tene- 
ments near the Porte 
Saint-Martin in Paris, or 
their offspring in old New 
Orleans. English practice 
also recognizes the ad- 
vantage of an approach 
to a dwelling which is 
merely such; separation 
and seclusion being 
gained in enclosed gar- 
dens, long walks, tennis 
courts or terraces on 
otherpartsof the grounds. 
It is hardly to be expected that Americans would adopt the 
usual entrance to a French residence — a grilled gateway in a 
high stone wall. But many of our homes might be improved 
by the presence of a forecourt beyond; a circle of gravel sur- 
rounded by walls of shrubbery between the highway and the 
home. 
.The infinite variety of plan with which in France shrub, vine, 
and flower are compressed into small spaces defies all rules. 
"WHEN THE ROSES BLOOM” 
What could be more charmingly removed from workaday care than this 
little courtyard filled with the fragrance of Roses and the bloom of 
Geraniums and Hydrangeas? Inn of William the Conqueror at Dives 
