Miy 7, 1891. ] 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
357 
W HAT is here to be said is not anything connected with the 
great city itself, but a simple record, with reflections, on 
gardening in its environs. As a young man from the country, I did 
mot so much wish to see what I had seen before—the great nurseries, 
such as those of Messrs. Veitch, Williams, Bull, and others ; but I 
had a wish to make a circuit beyond them, and spend a day (a long 
■•and somewhat tiring day it was) in seeing what ivas going on in 
the suburbs. I was fortunate in having a guide who appeared to 
know his way about, and he fii’st took me to Chiswick to note, as 
he said, the promise of fruit. Great, indeed, is that promise, and 
in about a week or so the garden will be like a fairy scene with 
blossom. Trees of all kinds, shapes, and sizes were simply studded 
with retarded blossom buds •' struggling to be free.” Peaches on 
the walls were in flower, and cold as had been the days and nights 
the blossoms ivere so far safe, though they had not been protected. 
With the air so dry, Mr. Barron said the trees were better 
■exposed, though coverings, such as nets, were in readiness for quick 
use if they should be suddenly required. He appeared to think, 
and my guide was of the same opinion, that there was danger in 
over-protecting, and to be effective the work must be done with 
.great discrimination. It is well for the young to hear what old 
hands say, and see what veterans in cultivation do, as the experience 
xiffords valuable lessons. Peaches under glass will bear abundantly. 
Vines were showing well, and Tomatoes advancing for planting ; 
■but the fog fiend had stifled hundreds of plants, one variety alone 
curiously escaping, and this a French sort named Ohemin, which 
is of vigorous growth, and bears very large fruits in its season. 
The rockery was being renovated, and the whole garden looking 
well; but to see it in its beauty it should be visited about the 
middle of May, when the rosy tinted Apple blossom is expanding, 
and before the Pears cast off their silvery dress. 
From Chiswick we took the tram for Kew, about fifteen or 
twenty minutes’ run, and walked over the ancient and hump-backed 
old bridge to the gardens. But the gates were locked, and the 
notice board told us the time for waiting. The guide, however, 
said Kew is a garden of education, and gardeners with a definite 
object in view are not refused admittance. He inquired for Mr. 
Nicholson, who had “ just gone into the garden.” “ Ah, yes,” he 
muttered, “ just what might be expected, people are often ‘just 
gone ’ when we want them.” However, on signing the book and 
stating the object of our visit, we were passed into the famous 
establishment, the first of its kind in the world, and of which the 
nation should be proud. What did we see ? Chiefly men wmrking 
with a will in the various houses, cleaning, arranging, syringing, 
watering, and washing down as if it were a race against time in 
view of the public opening. It is only necessary to see what has 
^o be done in the time at disposal to perceive how unreasonable is 
the demands of the inexperienced for the houses to be thrown 
open to the multitude during the early part of the day. It is 
impracticable, and even if more men were employed and money 
spent in completing indispensable w’ork sooner, the change would 
be prejudicial to the plants, and the public be less satisfied than 
they ought to be now. We did not interrupt the men in their 
work, and speedily the houses were closed for the dinner hour, to 
be opened at one o’clock to all comers. We therefore were content 
to examine them from the outside in peering through the windows. 
It was easy to see the quaint Cactuses in one house, the fine 
Cinerarias and Hyacinths in another, the gigantic Palms in a third, 
and in others Ferns, Orchids, and plants in divers kinds and 
bewildering variety, all in admirable order. 
In the grounds the nodding Daffodils in semi-wild profusion 
brightened many a knoll and vista, with, in contrast here and there, 
deep blue banks of Scillas. The Hyacinth beds were, and still are, 
splendid. There is no higgledy piggledy mixing of varieties, but 
the planting is systematic, and the varieties have been thoughtfully 
chosen. There are, as a rule, only two sorts in each bed, four rows 
in the centre, and two surrounding, the colours well associating, 
and all the spikes opening at the same time. The plan has 
been well conceived and well carried out. Here are a few 
of the floral associations—Grand Lilas in the centre, pale blue, 
surrounded with the white Grand Vedette. Grand Maitre, 
deeper blue; and the rose tinted Gigantea. C’narles Dickens, 
Oxford, and Czar Peter, Cambridge blue, a magnificent bed. Then 
we came to central blocks of the rich pink Bobert Steiger, banded 
with double rows of Gigantea and Grand Vedette. There are 
other varieties, but the above examples are fairly representative. 
The effect produced by the distinct masses of colour that shimmered 
in the sunshine, each lending a charm to the other, far exceeds the 
conventional mixtures. The Hyacinth beds at Kew are worth a 
journey to see, and we came away satisfied, even if the houses were 
closed, and felt it only reasonable the men should want their 
dinners, because we wanted ours, and as an hotel sentry outside 
the gates appeared to think so too, we walked into his parlour like 
the proverbial fly, and he made the best of us for the time, but 
treated us not unfairly. 
Outside was a tram waiting to take passengers, as it informed 
us in large letters, to “Richmond Town.” Quoth the guide to the 
conductor, “ Does Mr. Herbst live along this road ? ” “ Mr. Who, 
sir ? ” was the response. “ What is he ? ” “ Oh, nothing now, but 
he used to have a nursery.” “Ah ; is he about this height?” 
indicating avith his hand. “Yes.” “And does he wear gold 
rims ? ” making a circle round his eyes. “ Yes.” “ And has a 
beard like this ? ” making a long graceful sweep with his arm ; 
receiving a nod of approval he gave a quick reply, “ Right you are, 
sir ; jump up, and I will put you down where you want to be,” 
and he did. I had not seen Mr. Herbst, but knew Iresine Herbsti. 
Luckily the famous man was at home, and he gave us a hearty 
greeting. How pleasant it is to see a man who has worked 
diligently with head and hands for years win success in the keenest 
competition in the world—growing flow^ers for Covent Garden, then 
retire with plenty to rest in a charming home and dispense 
hospitality to his friends, or be a friend to the needy. His garden 
is a little model, and perfect in its keeping. His rockeries, shrubs, 
alpines. Ferns, Daffodils, Lilies, vineries afford him exercise and 
pleasure, while his potting shed is such as many a nobleman’s 
gardener would rejoice in. It is not known to all men that Mr. 
Herbst has been a pioneer in the floral supply of the market. It 
is interesting to hear him tell how he worked up stocks of plants 
and placed them in the market, at once created a demand for 
more, and took his friends by surprise. One example of his 
initiatory methods will suffice—forcing Lilies of the Valley. He 
was the first to send them into the market—half a dozen pots in 
November, and did not know what to ask for them. Then he 
thought single spikes with a leaf might sell for buttonholes, and 
they were clamoured for at a shilling each. Hundreds of thousands 
he sold in the early days, some thirty years ago ; then commenced 
forcing clumps in pots, and these were bought as fast as produced 
for 8s. each ; next he commenced the single crown system. Other 
growers followed, but he was always ahead, and when, owing to 
the great supply, prices fell, he struck into something else, and so 
he went on adding to his fame and making his fortune; and he 
says, great as the competition is he could make a living now 
in growing flowers for sale as the demand is greater than ever. 
No. 5G7.—VoL. XXII., Third Series. 
No. 2223.—VOL. LXXXIV., OLD SERIES. 
