May 3, 1894 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
339 
onr Portagal Laurels, where Azalea indica forms the foreground of 
shrubberies, we were surprised to find the noble examples of 
Eucalyptus globulus, some of which girthed 4 to feet, com¬ 
pletely killed in both the sheltered and exposed aspects, and still 
more so to find the giant Cordylines, evidence of twenty to thirty 
years of mild winters, killed outright, and their bare brown and 
branched stems, standing out like some of the Cacti of South 
America. The great variety of Mediterranean or sub-tropical 
plants and trees grown gave to mind curious results in hardiness, 
and in order to save space we will take them in order. 
The evergreen tree of Guernsey is the Evergreen Oak, which 
in sheltered places form trees of timber size. These are only 
injured where the salt spray has browned them. In deciduous 
trees some are crippled, but none killed, except by the force of the 
spray, as on the harbour at St. Peter Port, where the Plane is 
almost killed. The Guernsey Elm is the native tree, and forms 
very pretty avenues all over the island. The Turkey Oak does well, 
English Oak grows very stunted. Sycamore does well in the valleys, 
but there are no large examples ; in fact, all timber is small. The 
Elms in St. Julien’s Avenue form a pleasant arcade, and will make 
grand trees in time, as their stems are about 15 feet without a 
branch. The kind was not known to the writer, and the trees are 
probably continental. 
The Conifers are few in private gardens. Pinus insignia and 
P. austriaca succeed, but the Abies are not in evidence, though the 
choicer Piceas may be seen here and there. Thujas do not succeed, 
though in one garden Thuja Lobbi and Cupressus nutkaensis 
were very fine. Araucarias are seen in many places ; trees appa¬ 
rently of twenty-five years of age. Cedars atlantica in sheltered 
spots ; but Cupressus macrocarpa appears to have been quite 
killed. The feature of the villa gardens lies more in the evergreen 
shrubs, among which the various Euonymus are conspicuous ; the 
latifolia raarginata and aurea marginata being very bright, while 
the so-called flavescens was very gay in the hedges. 
Rhododendrons find a congenial soil and climate, and in the 
Rohais Nursery R. Aucklandi and other Himalayan species thrive 
well. Phormium tenax is killed generally, but the variegated form 
has survived. The Loquat forms a noble bush, and Magnolia 
grandiflora makes a grand tree of 10 to 30 feet. The spring-flower¬ 
ing kinds make large shrubs, but were off flower at the time of our 
visit. The following species were killed outright—viz., Cordyline 
indivisa, Sweet Bay, Eucalyptus, Cupressus macrocarpa. Very 
much injured Jasmine (white), Gorse on the hills. Fuchsias, 
Tamarisk, Mandevilla suaveolens, Escallonia macrantha, Eurybia 
illicifolia. The following were not injured Chamaerops excelsa 
and humilis, American Aloe, Loquat, Pittosporum, Camellia, 
Genista fragrans. Bamboos, Azalea indica alba and named kinds, 
Edwardsia, Choisya ternata, Eugenia Ugni and apiculata, Othera 
japonica, Aralia Sieboldi, and Pampas Grass. 
The Bamboos flourish in shelter, and grand masses of B. metake, 
Henonis, and Vinatis glaucescens, the latter the most graceful and 
making 20 feet shoots in a year, proving them to be of the greatest 
service in a suitable climate. Arundo Donax was not seen. 
At the end of April the wild flowers most in evidence were the 
Thrift, Primrose, and Bluebell, and on the volcanic rocks fine 
masses of Silene inflata. The other wildings were the same as 
found in Britain at this season. We noted a very charming 
Scabious on the rocks, about 7 inches tall, of a bright slate blue, 
which we have not before gathered, about the colour of the 
Ageratum. In Ferns no uncommon species were seen, Asplenium 
marinum in rocky fissures well out of reach. The rarest plant 
found was Genista scoparia prostrata, which was recognised as 
the new plant of twenty years ago, several patches grew on one 
grassy promontory ; a large flowered canary yellow Hawkweed 
(or Mouse-ear) was very beautiful on the rock sides. 
The aspect of the island from a picturesque view is completely 
marred by the enormous increase of “ glass houses ” for the culture 
of early vegetables. Tomatoes, and Grapes ; and the fishermen say 
that it has frightened the sea birds away from the island who 
formerly visited Guernsey in their annual migrations. It is, 
however, very much to the credit of the farmers and small 
cultivators that they have developed this industry to such a degree. 
As many as 30,000 packages are sent to Southampton in one day in 
the season ; and at this time Figs, Grapes, Tomatoes, Peas, French 
Beans and salads are daily sent off in the well-known packages 
one sees so frequently in Covent Garden. The small produce is 
consigned to the large midland and northern markets. 
The trade in cut Daffodils is very large, and we saw large 
breadths of the better kinds in great vigour. All but Poeticus, 
P. plenus, and biflorus had now passed ; but the healthy, vigorous 
“ grass ” told the tale of good culture. New glass houses are 
springing up on all sides, and every farm holding and nearly every 
better oliss cottage has some glass ; while there are several 
companies who have enormous clusters of very long houses. 
As most of the farms are freehold, the owners feel safe in 
erecting these costly structures, even on holdings of 3 to 10 acres. 
Hot-water pipes are now introduced largely to forward the produce, 
and windmills, on the American style, are visible on all sides to 
provide the necessary water. It evidently pays, because all the 
family help work, and to those cognisant of the stunted and ill-fed 
lower classes in our cities and towns, it is quite refreshing to see 
such clean healthy children, and an absence of “cheek” and 
rowdyism among the workers. One may learn how to make the 
most of things by a trip to this interesting island. In a future 
paper we may give our impressions of the fruit culture and the 
bulb farms, as well as the fauna which came under our notice.— 
Visitor. 
FLORAL FACTS AND FANCIES. 
“In this prosaic, matter-of-fact age,” said I to an editor one day, 
by way of preface to a remark. “ Prosaic, indeed ! ” he answered, 
interrupting me. “ You wouldn’t think so if you saw the quantity 
of poetry that goes into ray waste-paper basket.” No doubt 
there are plenty of rhymesters who bother editors with matter 
having neither poetry nor sense ; but it is generally admitted by 
authorities that poetry has less influence upon the world than 
formerly it had, and that the culture of the imagination is often 
neglected through the pressure of other pursuits. There is one 
place at least where poetry might be supposed still to linger, even 
if banished from the busy haunts of men, and that is amongst the 
parterres and leafy bowers of the flower garden. But I asked a 
gardener whether he found his work conducive to the exercise of 
imagination, and he said that the heats and chills he underwent 
took all the poetry out of him ! 
Doubtless practical folks will regard many of the fancies which 
find a home in the flower garden as foolish ; mere superstitions of 
a darker age. To the gardeners who lived in Greece or Italy 
during classic times trees and flowers were suggestive of the un¬ 
seen, most of them belonged to some guardian deity, and several 
told the tragic story of some person, aerial or human, who had been 
transferred from sentient to vegetable life, yet retaining traces of 
his or her former history. Even long after, and in our own land, 
the garden seemed to the imaginative to be peopled with spirits— 
fairies lurked in the bells of its flowers or hid within the folds of 
leaves, while imps flung blossoms and seed-pods hither and thither 
for amusement. We have advanced beyond this, but we cannot 
ignore the fact that numerous flowers have a history which will for 
ever link them to persons and events, real not mythical ; also the 
meanings which have been attached to others, if often of doubtful 
origin, are illustrative of human thought or emotion, and show 
sometimes an evident appropriateness. 
We cannot, perhaps, take a better example of a plant group rich 
in memories than the Lily tribe, a name that even by botanists is 
applied rather vaguely, and, in common speech, it is made to 
embrace a great variety of species—Daffodils, Irises, Hyacinths, 
Narcissuses, Tulips even, and many others beside the Lilies proper. 
Quite distinct, though bearing this name, are those Water Lilies that 
carry us far back in our earth’s history, for one species of the 
Lotus is associated with its oldest civilised country, the land of 
Egypt. Unquestionably it is difficult to identify the Sacred Lotus, 
consecrated to Isis and Osiris, reverenced, if not worshipped, by 
the Egyptians, honoured, too, in India, where images of Buddha 
are seen to grasp this plant, an emblem of life and growth, also of 
the sun arising from the ocean. Probably this is the Nyraphaea 
Lotus, which expands its leaves and showy blossoms above the 
surface of the Nile. The Easterns compare a man who resists tempta¬ 
tion to a Lotus leaf, because water will not rest on its epidermis. 
In floral language this Lotus represents “ eloquence,” which is 
singular. Another Lotus offers more of a puzzle, that wonderful 
species which supplied food to the Lotophagi. References to it 
show that it grew both in India and Egypt, also that it was a 
beautiful plant, the evidence rather favours the Nelumbium 
speciosum. Wanderers to the lands where it abounded gave them¬ 
selves up (so the fable tells) to the pleasure of eating its fruit, 
losing all cares, and hopes too, in the dreamy, very deceptive 
languor the Lotus produced. It has been thought that the 
ornamentation in Solomon’s temple (1 Kings vii., 22) was not 
copied from any Lily, but from the Egyptian Lotus, since excava¬ 
tions about Susa brought to light columns upon which wreaths 
were carved, composed of buds and expanded flowers of this 
plant placed alternately. Mrs. Hemana seems to have been much 
impressed with the fact that the Lotus maintains its calm 
equilibrium spite of wind and wave— 
“ Love is most like thee. 
The love of woman, quivering to the blast, 
Through every nerve, yet rooted deep and fast 
Midst life’s dark sea,” 
