340 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER, 
AptU 18,1896, 
neighbourhood i 3 the very stronghold of mum growers, and Mr. 
Crawford literally and figuratively a giant of the tribe, love (perhaps 
fear) prompts due homage. Of what our portly conductor has done is a 
matter of recent history, carrying off at the last Dublin show a 20-guinea 
cup, a 10 -guinea cup, and several first prizes. Of what he is going to do 
it is not for me to betray confidence, not forgetting “there’s many a 
slip ; ” but if he does not retain his trophies in the next battle it will not 
be his fault, but rather that of some mountain-born breeze, which so 
often swoops down from the near inland hills. 
In the glass department two serviceable span-roofed houses are 
filled with miscellaneous plants, among which is a fair sprinkling of 
Orchids—the ruling passion for some years of the late Mr. Welsh, Mr. 
Crawford’s predecessor. Lean-to vineries and Peach houses, built at a 
somewhat sharp angle, have for many years done good duty, and do so 
still. In no part ot the garden is the expert hand more in evidence 
than in the vegetable quarters, and considering how much the soil in 
this old garden has been taxed for generations, naught but good culture 
and judicious management by rotation of crops could produce results so 
highly satisfactory. One advantage, not always possessed by similar 
places, is that but few old fruit trees are allowed to cumber the ground. 
Well-cared-for pyramid Apples and Pears have taken their places, and 
prudence restricts the planting to such varieties as are likely to succeed 
where the soil and situation is not the most favourable. 
Due respect is paid to two old Mulberry trees, favourites of the Earl 
and Countess. Near these trees, on a stretch of lawn “ all shaven and 
shorn,” are two massive rectangular beds, capable of swallowing up 
some thousands of bedding plants. These give a distinct feature to the 
garden, and render tribute sufficient to the fashion of bedding, for 
beyond a few beds which brighten up the vicinity of the mansion, the 
old love of hardy flowers is not jilted by the new. 
Order and neatness is noticeable in all departments, bearing evidence 
of good generalship over the staff, each member of which appears to 
know what to do and how to do it. 
OLD-FASHIONED FLOWERS. 
Surely a plea for some of these is justifiable. In these days of so 
much enterprise and keen competition, many and rapid are the changes 
constantly taking place in all phases of horticulture. The demand for 
something new, especially in the floral world, daily becomes more 
apparent, and to meet this all the skill and industry of enterprising 
nurserymen are called into requisition. To see the force of this fact we 
have only to scan the groups of plants and flowers at any large horti¬ 
cultural show, or wander through the Drill Hall, London, on the occasion 
of one of the periodical meetings of the Royal Horticultural Society. 
There may be seen new and rare plants of almost every species, 
exhibited by energetic growers, with the fond hope that the much- 
coveted certificate may be granted, by which the position of new 
additions in the world of horticulture becomes assured. 
“ Forward ” is the watchword of the present age, and to keep pace 
with the times it becomes necessary that no stone be left unturned in 
swelling still further the vast number of beautiful flowers which now 
adorn English gardens. Therefore all honour is due to the indefatigable 
energy of raisers and growers who have done so much by their labours 
to raise the standard of horticulture to the condition we now see it. 
There is also another side to the question; whfie we are so 
Liglily interested in the constant clamour for something new, do we 
not sometimes pause and think with feelings of regret of many old- 
timed favourites once so popular in our gardens, and now, alas ! forced 
to take a place far in the background, or perhaps dropping out of the 
ranks entirely ? 
It is for such as these I would put forth a plea, and, happily, there 
are still many gardens in the kingdom where they are considered worthy 
of the plaee which in others is taken by something more modern and 
up to date. There seems to me to be a touch of pathos about old- 
fashioned flowers; a kind of connecting link between the past and 
present which cannot fail to appeal to the mind of a thoughtful man. 
To illustrate this, fancy some weary wayfarer returning to the home 
of his childhood after perhaps a long sojourn in a foreign land. Kindred 
and friends are gone over to the great majority, the old house is pulled 
down or renovated beyond recognition, there appears to be nothing left 
to remind him of the old days ; but, stay ! there is surely something? 
Yes, the old gardm flowers are still there, as if to welcome him home 
again. They spring up before him, and in their familiar forms he sees 
once more and lives over again his youthful days. There is the climbing 
Honeysuckle and Wistaria, trained in their early life by his own hands, 
flowering as profusely as of yore ; the old Cabbage Rose bush in the 
corner nods him a welcome ; tall Delphiniums, Snapdragons, Sweet 
Williams, Foxgloves, Lilacs, Laburnums, and hosts of others still occupy 
their old places, blooming on quite oblivious of the changing w^orld all 
round. He is no longer lonely, as betwixt him and these there is a 
bond of friendship which long years of absence have failed to sever. 
No new species, however beautiful, could appeal to him like these simple 
flowers as he stoops to pluck a blossom ere he passes on, satisfied that all 
things have not changed. The tenacity in which some garden flowers 
stick to life is admirably pourtrayed by Goldsmith in his “ Deserted 
Village,” where he says :— 
'• Near yonder copse, where once a garden smiled, 
And still where many a garden flower grows wild, 
Where a few torn shrubs the place disclose. 
The village preacher’s modest mansion rose.” 
Some may perhaps say. What has all this sentiment to do with the 
theories of modern gardening ? The answer comes, Little or nothing. 
Perhaps, though, if I mistake not, all true lovers of horticulture are 
disposed sometimes to linger with thoughts of admiration and regard 
for flowers which adorned our gardens ages ago. 
At this period of the year it will not be out of place to mention one 
section which it is gratifying to know never grow old-fashioned—viz , 
wild flowers. Soon the hedgerows and woodlands will be clothed with 
these gems of the spring. Beyond the pale of cultivation, they come 
and go undisturbed, and each season are accorded a hearty welcome. 
Unchanged by fleeting time, the modest Primrose and sweet Violet 
are held as sacred to-day as in the time when they adorned the 
festive ceremonies of the Druids in ancient Britain. No caprice of 
changing fashion ever comes to steal away the affection for wild 
flowers, and ofttimes may be seen the simple Forget-me-not, sweet 
Honeysuckle, and wild Rose mingled in decorations with costly 
Orchids and other delicate specimens. 
No one will venture to say that the wild yellow Broom of the moor¬ 
lands is not as popular to-day as when it adorned the helmet of the first of 
the Plantagenet kings prior to going to battle, and from which plant that 
line of monarchs received its name. All these worthies are now only 
figures in history, but the flowers are still with us, blooming on, 
regardless of the swift passage of time, occupying perhaps the same 
places from which they were plucked ages ago to crown the Queen of 
the May on the village green. So as they come and go we may read in 
their simple forms an unwritten history of the early and middle ages. 
There is yet another difference between wild and cultivated flowers. 
On seeing one of the latter the first thought of an enthusiastic 
gardener is, whether he cannot by his superior art improve on it and 
obtain something still more attractive. ^Yith the former no such idea 
enters his head, he is satisfied with its simple beauty, and knows that no 
effort on his part can add to it. Apart from gardening proper, the same 
love of wild flowers is displayed by all and everyone. To see this we 
have only to notice the crowds of boisterous excursionists returning to 
some crowded city after a day in the country laden with these treasures 
of the fields, which doubtless carry with them a gleam of sunshine 
into many a court and alley. 
To all who are engrossed in the productions of new additions I 
would say, that commendable as your efforts are, let them not be the 
means of stealing away attention from many which were the pioneers 
of floriculture in England.—G. H. H. 
MODERN GRAPE GROWING. 
(^Continued from imge 316.') 
The Trellis. 
I HAVE no reason for altering the line of trellis adopted twenty-five 
years ago—viz., not less than 2 feet from the glass anywhere and 82 feet 
above the centre path. This brings it away from the ridge between 
I and 0 feet, one of the objects being to keep the bunches out of the 
reach of hats and bonnets and yet to have the foliage as far as possible 
from the ventilators. It is also a great advantage to have the bunches 
sufficiently low that as many as possible of them can be seen and 
attended to without steps. True, we lose a little in the length of rod, 
but it only amounts to about 18 inches in a wide house, and the 
advantages more than counterbalance this. 
There is no need in our modern light houses to “ keep close to the 
glass ” for the sake of light, because it is light everywhere except it be 
shaded by the plants, and where a span-roofed house does not run due 
north and south, as often happens unavoidably, the side which is most 
inclined to the north will be under a disadvantage, therefore the lower 
the trellis can be kept in the centre of the house the longer will the 
sunshine reach the upper surface of the Vines growing on the colder 
side. 
It is of the greatest importance that the upper surface of every leaf 
should be exposed to the action of light and air ; indeed, the leaves 
themselves are teaching us this lesson every day in our lives, for no 
sooner do we tie a branch down and alter the position of the leaves than 
they instantly commence re-arranging themselves, and cause the stems 
to alter their angles and assist them in doing so. When we allow the 
leaves to press against the glass they are helpless and probably 
useless, for their upper surface is for the greater part of the time covered 
with water, sometimes boiling, sometimes freezing, and transpiration 
cannot go on properly. In addition to this they are preventing the 
light and air reaching other leaves. Where a practical gardener is called 
on to give his advice of course all these matters will be taken into 
consideration and well thought out at the time of fitting up the houses, 
but unfortunately so many proprietors, though they are willing to give 
their gardeners all due credit for their cultural abilities, yet seem to 
think that everybody else knows better about the fittings necessary for 
successful cultivation. 
I have always been fortunate in having reasonable people to deal 
with in this respect, but I have seen many of my brethren of the craft 
who possess great abilities, and yet are severely handicapped. I know 
of one large establishment just lately entirely renewed. The houses are 
handsome, and are built of iron and glass ; but the ventilating gear is 
so arranged that you cannot open the south side without opening the 
northern one at the same time. The gardener is a clever man, but if 
he succeeds in growing Peaches and Grapes to his own satisfaction in 
these structures as they are, he is far more clever than I take him to be. 
In the Longleat vinery, the wires forming the trellis are stretched 
