486 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
[ Norember 30, 1893. 
the same way, there are, on the contrary, only five varieties which 
are not to be found in both analyses. 
The relative positions of the different varieties in the following 
lists are dependent upon their average performances at the last five 
or less exhibitions as the case may be. 
RefLexed. —Cullingfordi, King of Crimsons, White Christine, 
Cloth of Gold, Pmk Christine, Golden Christine, Peach Christine, 
Chevalier Domage, Dr. Sharpe, Mrs. M. Sullivan, and Phidias. 
Large Anemones. —Mrs. Judge Benedict, W. and G. Drover, 
Lady Margaret, Gluck, Empress, Miss Annie Lowe, J. Thorpe, jun., 
Gladys Spaulding, Grand Alveole, Georges Sand, Acquisition, 
Fleur de Marie, and Nouvelle Alveole. 
Japanese Anemones. — Mons. C. Lebocqz, Jeanne Marty, 
Kodolpho Ragioniere, Fabian de Mediana, Nelson, Le Deuil> 
Madame Robert Owen, M. Dupanloup, Soeur Dorothee Souille, 
Duchess of Westminster, Marguerite Solleville, and Sabine. 
Pompons. —Black Douglas, Mdlle. Elise Dordan, Golden Mdlle. 
Marthe, Mdlle. Marthe, Prince of Orange, Marabout, President, 
Pygmalion, William Westlake, Rubrum Perfectum, St. Michael, 
and Cendrillon. 
Pompon Anemones. —Antonius, Perle, Astria, Rose Marguerite, 
Madame Montels, Marie Stuart, Mr. Astie, Regulus, and Calliope. 
National Chrysanthemum Society’s Show, Held 
November 7th, 1893. 
This was one of the largest exhibitions the Society has yet held ; 
in fact, the number of Japanese Chrysanthemums staged in 
competition exceeded that at any previous show, with the exception 
of the Centenary Exhibition in 1890. 
As it may be some weeks before my next Chrysanthemum 
analysis is ready for publication, it may be of interest if I give 
here the relative positions the following new varieties are likely 
to occupy in that analysis when it appears. Those new sorts only 
are mentioned which are not to be found in the foregoing tables. 
Incurved. —Baron Hirsch, Madame Frederic Mistral, Brookleigh 
Gem. 
Japanese. —Colonel W. B. Smith ("the champion new variety of 
the Show), G. C. Schwabe, Charles Davis, Mrs. C. Harman Payne, 
Excelsior, Lord Brooke, William Seward, John Shrimpton, Violet 
Rose, R. C. Kingston, Amos Perry, Mr. Charles Blick, 
J. Stanborough Dibbens, Miss Dorothy Shea. 
It only now remains to thank Mr. C. Harman Payne, Secretary of 
the Catalogue Committee of the National Chrysanthemum Society, 
for again kindly supplying the dates and raisers’ names of some 
of the newer varieties in the tables.—E. M., Berhhamsted. 
WANDERINGS IN WICKLOW. 
The county of Wicklow, if equalled in its splendid scenery by 
more remote parts of the west of Ireland, can scarcely be surpassed, 
and joining as it does to county Dublin, is of easy access from “ the 
car-drivingest city ” in the world. This might be considered a 
doubtful advantage resulting in an invasion of Nature’s privacy, 
but such is not the case, for though many persons go to Bray, which 
may be aptly called the gate to Wicklow, few continue the journey 
beyond. 
Bray, the so-called Brighton of Ireland, is singularly unlike the 
fashionable English resort. The ocean dashes against the fine 
esplanade unaccompanied in its solo by either hand organs or 
Ethiopian minstrels. True, the soft mournful notes of the Irish 
pipes, tuned by a blind musician, fall on the ear, but harmoniously 
so, though the missing link may perhaps be found in specimens of 
the Edie Ochiltree type, who pour out voluble blessings for 
prospective baksheesh ; or mayhap the jaunting car driver has 
beguiled yer honour ” into patronising him, and you, though on 
pleasure bent, retain the frugal mind by omioting the pour boire, 
his look without words is as expressive as the verbiage of his 
brother over the water. 
On leaving the station visitors cannot fail to be impressed by 
the bold front of Bray head, sharply outlined against the sky and 
backed up by the mountains, of which the Sugarloaf stands out 
pre-eminent. Striking off inland through the picturesque Alpine- 
hke village of Enniskerry, where Fuchsia gracilis hangs gracefully 
round some cottage windows and Lobelia fulgens grows luxuriantly 
below, a few miles drive brings one to Powerscourt, a place of note 
in the gardening world, unrivalled in its setting amidst the 
mountains. An extensive range of glass on a plateau near the 
mansion is described and illustrated in “ Thompson’s Gardener’s 
Assistant,” and some fine groups of statuary embellish the terraced 
gardens, but a Scotch mist marred an all too brief visit, prohibiting 
any attempt to see the waterfall, one of the features of Lord 
Powerscourt’s noted demesne. Time has wrought changes since I 
saw Powerscourt on an autumn day, and a detailed account of a 
visit then might be misleading now ; yet the glorious panorama of 
lights and shadows on the eternal hills disclosed by the rifting 
clouds is changeless though ever changing. Mr. Crombie, who now 
wields the bSton over the gardens, is a Chrysanthemum man and a 
past exhibitor, when his huge blooms have given other competitors 
some anxiety. Other seats in the neighbourhood are those of Lord 
Monck and the Earl of Meath. 
Starting again from Bray the rail winds round the head on a 
narrow rocky shelf, so narrow that one looks down a sheer descent 
of many feet into the clear blue water, curling its white crests 
round detached fragments of the rock, on by the village of Grey- 
stones, still skirting the sea till entering the Yale of Ovoca, of 
which Moore, the sad sweet poet of Ireland says— 
“ There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet 
As the vale on whose bosom the wild waters meet.” 
From Rathnew Station via the village of Ashford, Ballycurry, 
the seat of Col. Tottenham is reached, this demesne of 1500 
acres it is needless to say embraces much that is naturally beautiful, 
the chief point of interest being the Devil’s Glen, a mountain gorge 
of several miles embosoming the tumbling and leaping river 
Yartry, happy in escaping the reservoir at Roundwood, the head of 
the glen, where the “ City Fathers ” have impounded it for the use 
of Dublin and the townships. Passes obtainable at the hotel at 
Ashford at a nominal charge, admit visitors to this enchanting piece 
of nature. 
Near the mansion are the quaint old-fashioned gardens, on 
entering which one steps back a century at least, a labyrinth 
of narrow walks, low walls, crowded with numerous sweet 
smelling flowers, creepers and climbers, and memories of the 
past. Well cared for are some ancient Figs spreading their 
branches horizontally afar, and Peaches are a picture without 
framing or glazing, bearing freely and ripening too in the open, 
but the especial pride of the Colonel is a huge Benthamia fragi- 
fera near the mansion, so large that in describing it to my old friend 
“ F. B.” he said it was something else, but it is not, and unfor¬ 
tunately I had not taken the height and breadth thereof. 
I must not omit to mention a charming spot I had passed in the 
morning near Ashford, situated in what appeared the fork of a 
river—Tritomas, Pampas plumes, Yirginian Creeper, and all the 
glories of autumn seemed concentrated here. I learned afterwards 
it is the residence of Mr. Walpole, a gentleman noted for his love 
of hardy plants, and in no sweeter nook could he have gathered 
together his choice collection. The name of this place I do not 
know, but Eden or Paradise suggest themselves to a gardener’s 
mind. 
The climate of Wicklow is a favoured one, though the pleasant 
walk of six miles in the quiet September morning contrasted 
painfully with the lonely tramp back in the dark of night under 
weeping skies, and to wanderers in Wicklow a waterproof is 
indispensable. On another autumn day, which we gardeners seem 
to favour for a brief holiday, and enjoy the more when the hurry 
and rush of the season is over, the writer and another (the 
unbeliever in the huge Benthamia) set off at an early hour from 
the plains of Kildare on a special invite to see the gardens of 
Glenart Castle, the Irish seat of Lord Carysfort, situated on the 
right bank of the Ovoca, far down “ that valley so sweet,” and 
near the fishing town of Arklow. Detraining at Woodenbridge, 
we come to terms with a native car driver, who dashes us along 
some two miles of a good road to the entrance gates, where pride 
gets a fall from the guardian angel of the lodge, vigorously declaim¬ 
ing through the bars that one shall come in, the other shall not ; 
to admit one, “ them’s her orders,” but after some cajolings on our 
part, and protest on hers, we enter one of the best kept demesnes 
I have yet seen—a perfect road, with channelled sides, hard as a 
steam roller then in constant use on the estate could make it, 
winding round and up a hill to the garden entrance under a lofty 
clock tower. Terrace after terrace falls away to the south, and 
just beyond the handsome castle, surrounded by its velvet lawns, 
all in perfect keeping. The glass department is commodious, two 
houses of Pines were in grand form, as were also late Grapes— 
Gros Colman, huge in its berries, and of fine colour. A cork- 
covered door clothed with Ficus repens at the back of a central 
conservatory opening into the office was a novelty, the secret being 
a box on the inner side of the door through which the Ficus stem 
