282 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
[ April 5, 1S83. 
free. How fruit and kitchen gardens have stood the shock I have 
no idea. Altogether it has been one of the most disastrous 
months ever seen in this neighbourhood, and has for slain and 
wounded no doubt put up the “best on record.” The only con¬ 
solation we have is that the last day of it is a most delightful 
spring day. 
That usually correct correspondent, “ Single-handed,” seems to 
me to have gone a little astray in his otherwise able article on 
“ Books and Reading ” in the price of some of the books he 
mentions. He speaks of Williams’ “ Orchids,” Hogg’s “ Fruit,” 
and Burbidge’s “ Cultivated Plants ” as if they were all pamph¬ 
lets or shilling manuals. A book-list at hand quotes Burbidge 
at 15s., Hogg I think is half a guinea, and Barron is the same 
price ; in fact, Taylor is the only shilling “ manual ” in the 
list mentioned by your correspondent. Nothing could be more 
disappointing to a young man than to find, after having 
been led to believe that he could buy Burbidge’s “ Cultivated 
Plants ” for a “ shilling or so,” that he would have to pay more 
than a week’s wages for it, for it really costs more than the 
amount that some young gardeners are receiving per week. 
Instead of a central library, which is a very good idea, I would 
suggest that gardeners could do themselves and each other much 
more good by forming a general benefit society. With a centre, 
say, in London, and branches throughout the country, which could, 
I am sure, be formed and worked quite as successfully by gardeners 
as unions are by engineers or elementary teachers. Few gardeners 
pass through life without being at some time or other “laid up ” 
with sickness or out of place through no fault of their own ; and 
many of them never have an opportunity of saving as much money 
as will keep them comfortable in their old age. All this sort of 
thing might be provided for. Then every local lodge or branch 
of the society might establish its own library at its meeting-room. 
I only throw out these remarks as a suggestion, someone may 
think them worthy of consideration ; at all events the subject 
itself is. 
Anent ventilation, it may interest your readers generally, and 
Mr. Taylor particularly, to know that an amateur in Sunderland 
is busily engaged perfecting an automatic ventilator, and is very 
sanguine of success. I cannot give any details, I only give the 
fact that he is doing so. He is a practical engineer and an enthu¬ 
siastic gardener. I hope by-and-by to be able to say more about 
it.— Petek Ferguson. 
CULTURE OF THE KALOSANTIIES. 
The Kalosanthes is a most useful sweet-scented summer¬ 
blooming plant. It may be grown into large specimens for 
exhibition, or in 48 or 32-size pots for the decoration of the con¬ 
servatory. The cuttings should be taken now and inserted 
singly in small GO-pots ; place them in an intermediate tempera¬ 
ture, when they will soon root. Transfer them into larger pots, 
employing a compost of two parts turfy loam, one of peat, and 
one of leaf soil, with a good sprinkling of silver sand to keep the 
soil open. As the season advances place them in a cold frame or 
pit, and close early to encourage free growth. Stop them twice 
during the season to make them bushy. In the autumn place 
them in a light airy house and gradually withhold water, which 
will cause them to form flower buds. If extra large plants are 
required do not let them bloom, but pinch the points out and 
shift into larger pots. Whilst the flow r er buds are opening 
ventilate freely, which will improve the colour. Some growers 
place their exhibition plants in the open air whilst the flowers are 
opening ; but they are protected from wind and wet, and shaded 
from bright sun.—A. Y. 
HISTORICAL JOTTINGS ON VEGETABLES.—No. 3. 
RHUBARB AND SEAKALE. 
In the earlier months of the year, when tarts and puddings 
cannot be made from fresh fruit, there is a steady demand for the 
stalks of Rhubarb, which even those who are somewhat critical 
will condescend to eat while they are young. As the season 
advances these become larger and coarser, their price diminishes, 
and they are chiefly purchased by the poor. A youngster of a few 
years old may b'e frequently seen coming from market trailing a 
bundle of stalks as tall as itself. This is not a vegetable yielding 
any notable quantity of nourishment, but it is agreeably refreshing, 
though to some persons Rhubarb proves unwholesome, owing to 
the oxalic and malic acid it contains. One authority advises us to 
counteract these by taking a little magnesia after any pastry con¬ 
taining Rhubarb. Undoubtedly it is a slight laxative, for which 
reason our forefathers, fancying from its connection with the 
medicinal Rhubarb that it was still more aperient than it is, used 
to be chary of eating it. Even the name was thought to be ob¬ 
jectionable, and tarts composed of Rhubarb were said, rather 
absurdly, to be made of “ spring Apples.” If Rhubarb once 
passed thus for Apples it now sometimes does duty for Grapes, 
champagne being manufactured, and we may suppose approved, 
which is prepared from Gooseberries and Rhubarb in this country. 
The ancient Greeks, as we are informed, were well acquainted 
with the value of Rhubarb, and the Chinese probably at an earlier 
date, but neither of these peoples employed it as an article of food, 
only as a medicine, and it was the same with those who first grew 
Rhubarb on our English soil. Gerard appears to have been a little 
confused about it, not distinguishing, perhaps, the true species 
from what was called “ Monks’ Rhubarb,” the Rumex alpinus, 
brought by the monks from Switzerland or Germany. Before 
Gerard’s time both kinds may have been grown here, and Mr. 
Glasspoole refers to the mention of “ reuberbe ” seeds in a letter 
dated 1534, addressed to Cromwell, Secretary of State to Henry VIII. 
These were brought to England from Barbary. Whether Cromwell 
or his gardener succeeded in rearing plants we cannot tell. 
Tusser puts it down as a suitable species for the herb garden, 
but he may have meant the “ Monks’ Rhubarb,” substituted by 
these reverend adulterators for the roots of the true Rhubarb, or 
at least mixed with them. Nor do I much believe the story copied 
one from another by sundry old books on gardening, that in the 
sixteenth century the people boiled the entire leaves of Rhubarb 
and ate them as we eat Spinach. There is no sufficient evidence 
of any usage of the stalks until the middle of the reign of 
George III., or about that period ; and the attempts to produce 
English Rhubarb in order to compete with the imported drug did 
not prove very successful, nor is the English root of much value at 
present, although we possess methods of culture far in advance of 
those known two hundred years ago. 
Parkinson, author of several curious works upon botany, had 
seeds of the common garden Rhubarb (R. rhaponticum) in 1G29, 
but it did not spread for a long time, even in the vicinity of 
London. R. palmatum and undulatum, species also grown in 
gardens for the sake of the stalks, did not come over until many 
years afterwards, and people ate Rhubarb, as stated above, with 
considerable caution. Mr. Myatt of Deptford, a member of a 
family that is historic in market gardening, might claim to have 
done much to bring Rhubarb into notice by his persistency in 
sending supplies to the Borough Market about the beginning of 
this century. Kent gardens and others also in Surrey or Middle¬ 
sex continue to yield tons of Rhubarb annually, for this vegetable, 
it was found, could be cultivated near London, where choicer 
vegetables refused to grow in consequence of the smoke. But the 
builders are fast banishing even Rhubarb. I saw a patch of it 
growing a few years since on the last plot undisturbed of the 
formerly extensive market gardens belonging to the Catleughs, 
situate near Sloane Street, and between the King’s Road, Chelsea, 
and Brompton Road. The progress of horticulture has displaced 
the old types of Rhubarb, giving us hybrids of superior texture 
and flavour. 
Another vegetable that we naturally associate with the beginning 
of the year is Seakale, the appellation suggesting a maritime con¬ 
nection which is inexplicable to those who have not read the early 
history of the plant, or seen it growing on those spots where it 
flourishes even yet in a wild state, although it is now scarcer on 
our coasts than in bygone days. It is rather a curious fact, and 
one seemingly supported by good evidence, that the Romans used 
Seakale as a provision for voyages, but did not generally eat it 
upon shore. For this purpose, however, they cut the plants on 
the sandy beaches where it mostly occurs, and then stored it in 
barrels, with the addition of oil or spice, some think. Along the 
south coasts of England Seakale has been gathered by the in¬ 
habitants for many centuries, some skill being shown in watching 
for the right period, because after a certain stage of growth the 
wild plants become very unpalatable, probably also unwhole¬ 
some, a bitter principle being developed during the summer. 
Devon, Dorset, Sussex, and Kent have been mentioned as counties 
to which the plant is or has been partial. 
In its characteristics Seakale is precisely the opposite of the 
vegetable first noticed. Rhubarb is rich in acids, and this plant 
in alkalis, being therefore easy to digest, and, in fact, very much 
akin to the Cabbage tribes, though some connoisseurs think it 
almost equal to Asparagus. On the continent it is not thought 
much of, and the price with us is seldom low enough to bring it 
upon the tables of middle-class folk. Yet Seakale is, we think, a 
vegetable that might be advantageously eaten by most during the 
season of spring. To Philip Miller, whose “ Gardener’s Dic¬ 
tionary ” names this plant in 1731, and whose memory yet lingers 
in the Apothecaries’ Garden at Chelsea, belongs the repute of 
having been the first to commend it as an esculent. It was, 
