490 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
[ December 10, 1891. 
HARDY FLOWER NOTES. 
The year is hastening to a close, December’s short and dreary 
days are upon us, and frost, which came with laggard footsteps, has 
come and gone again. Dahlias lingered on until the last week :n 
November, when a sharp night destroyed for the season many of 
Chloris’s tender subjects. The Grecian nymph has, however, still 
some of her subjects left to render her their homage. Not least 
attractive at present are the Monthly Roses, which here show a 
few blooms well nigh throughout winter. One of these it might 
well be of which Hartley Coleridge speaks thus :— 
“ The patient beauty of the scentless Rose, 
Oft with the morn’s hoar crystal quaintly glassed, 
Hangs, a pale mourner for the summer past, 
And makes a little summer where it grows.” 
I do not know that we have as yet fully realised the usefulness 
of these little Roses. We run too much after the exquisite blooms 
of the Hybrid Perpetuals, and neglect the little flowers which 
would brighten our gardens in such gloomy days as these. The 
“ little summer ” by their aid would abide, not only in our gardens 
but in our hearts, were these dainty flowers more widely grown. 
With these pretty China Roses before one’s eyes we are disposed 
to protest against one of the expressions of that true lover of 
flowers—Shakespeare, who says :— 
“ At Christmas I no more desire a Rose 
Than wish a snow in May’s new fangled mirth, 
But like of each thing that in season grows.” 
—(“ Loves Labour Lost," Act I , Scene 7). 
In ordinary winters the China Roses flower here for months at 
a time and are ever welcome at any season. This seems a favoured 
spot for Anemones, as while my friends a short distance inland 
have none in flower here they are again flowering away, and 
within the last few days a frame has been placed over some so that 
they may flower unchecked throughout the winter. The single 
varieties will be found the more suitable for this purpose. The 
day of named Anemones seems almost over, for the present at 
least, unless they experience a revival of taste such as is beginning 
to be experienced with the named Tulips. I do not know of any¬ 
one in this country who makes a speciality of growing named double 
Anemones. I believe the late Mr. Carey Tyso was one of, if not the 
last in England. I was a little surprised the other day on looking 
up Justices’ “Scots Gardener’s Director” (1759) to find, that at 
that time the price of Anemones was £5 per 100. Unless in the 
case of someone who was particularly desirous of having a choice 
collection it is needless to purchase named sorts, as a packet of seed 
will produce many fine colours at a small cost. Although at this 
season the flowers do not open well outdoors, if cut when in bud 
and placed in water they will open in the house. There are few 
finer sights in May than a bed of Anemones with their beautifully 
cut foliage of bright green and their fine flowers of many colours, 
white, pale blue, deep blue, purple, crimson of various tints with 
various rings and markings, all ornamented with the black central 
boss which enhances the beauty of this classic flower. Classic 
flower I say advisedly, for few flowers are more alluded to in 
ancient works. I have previously quoted one of the legends of the 
origin of the Anemone, and another may be found in Folkard’s 
“Plant Lore, Legends and Lyrics,” p. 215, by Rapin, according 
to which the Anemone was originally a njmph beloved by Zephyr. 
This is perhaps an explanation of the name of the flower, which 
is derived from anemos, the wind. This “ fairest flower ” of Rapin 
is one which we would fain see more widely grown ; and as tubers 
are cheap and may be planted from now onward till March, it is 
surely not too much to hope that they may again find their way 
into favour. They do very well in sandy soil here planted about 
3 inches deep. One would gladly say more about these exquisite 
flowers, but others claim attention. 
Protected from the storms by a little handlight is one of the 
latest of those flowers which seem to have stored up the summer’s 
sunshine, that they might give it forth to brighten gloomier 
days—the Colchicums. The species now in flower is named 
C. Decaisnei, and is assuredly a valuable acquisition to the hardy 
flower garden. It has fine bright light purple flowers with broad 
well-rounded petals, and is said to be a native of the Anti-Lebanon. 
It is newly introduced, and is said to have narrow leaves. It 
produces a number of flowers from each bulb, and is from its late- 
flowering habit well deserving of notice. Poisonous as are the 
Colchicums or Meadow Saffrons, their beauty and value in the 
garden should cause them to be more widely cultivated. Speaking 
of their poisonous qualities, Gerarde recommends anyone who has 
eaten Colchicums to “ drinke the milke of a cow, or else death 
presently ensueth.” Nor are the Crocuses (like the Colchicums 
herbs of the sun, as the old astrologers tell us) unrepresented in 
the garden even in December. C. longiflorus and C. Fleischeri 
still bloom under small handlights (specially useful for such 
flowers as these), and a new species (C. hyemalis), is in bud and. 
will keep up the succession. 
One becomes weary of pointing out the distinctions between- 
the Crocus and the Colchicum, but it seems necessary to repeat, 
them again and again. The broadest distinction, and the best 
probably for all practical purposes, is that the Crocus has only 
three stamens, while the Colchicum has six. On rockwork and in 
border various species of Crocus are peeping through the soil, hold¬ 
ing out the hope of the time when they will open their glowrng 
cups to the vernal sunshine, and glittering with radiance enchant 
us with their charms. But long dark days will pass before the 
yellow Crocus opens its burning flowers, which inspired Tennyson* 
with the words :— 
“ And at their feet the Crocus brake like fire.” 
And the hues of changing and dying leaves meantime must needss 
temper our hope with sadness. This sadness is, however, almost 
drowned with admiration as we look upon these tints. The forest 
has its glowing autumn tints, and in a lesser degree our garden 
flowers give us a vision of beauty of a similar kind. In the 
dying foliage are shades of brown, of saffron yellow, and of bright 
crimson. 
Perhaps the brightest shades of the latter colour are afforded 
by the dwarf Polygonum Brunonis, the Indian Knotweed. This 
is not a free flowerer with me, my soil being too dry, but in autumn 
it atones for this fault by the brilliancy of its leafage. Some of 
my friends consider it “ weedy,” but the epithet is hardly appli¬ 
cable to such a close dwarf habit of growth. It grows from 6 to 
12 inches high, is a native of the Himalayas, and was introduced 
in 1845. I have observed it catalogued as synonymous with 
P. affine, which seems to have been introduced from Nepaul in. 
1822. I am not an adept at describing plants, and the briefest 
description I can find is that given in Sutherland’s “ Hardy Herba¬ 
ceous and Alpine Flowers,” page 260. It is as follows—“ This 
plant is creeping in habit, with numerous close-lying stems clothed 
with lance-shaped toothed evergreen leaves, tapering sharply at 
both ends on longish stalks. The flowers are deep rose, in dense, 
but irregular spikes, supported on stems about 9 inches high ; they 
appear rather late in the summer, and continue late. Pink, changing 
to deep rose, would perhaps be a better description of the colour. 
I have never seen this plant flower so well as at Edge Hall and at 
Blacklow House, Roby, the plant at the latter place being particu¬ 
larly fine. The mention of P. Brunonis reminds me of a dwarf 
species of earlier habit, and with sharper pointed leaves, which 
remain green. I saw this in an old garden last summer, but was 
at a loss to identify it. I find, however, it must be the one figured 
in Maund’s “Botanic Garden” (Mr. Niven’s edition), vol. ii. r 
plate 57, and there named P. viviparum—the viviparous Polygonum, 
I do not see this catalogued anywhere, but although not showy it 
is particularly interesting from the growth upon its flowering stem 
of its little viviparous progeny of bulbs or buds. The flowers are 
whitish, of the same character as the other dwarf Knotweed, and 
are produced on a flower stem 3 to 6 inches high, and, as is stated 
in the “ Botanic Garden,” “at the same time as its flowers become, 
from their small green buds, more and more developed, the growth 
of a distinct progeny will be proceeding below them from the same 
stem. These consist of a number of brown or reddish bads or 
bulbs, as seen in our figure, each of them not only capable of form¬ 
ing a distinct plant for perpetuating its species, but capable of that 
development whilst on its parent stem.” Although a native plant, 
P. viviparum is so interesting as to be worthy of a place when the 
peculiarities of plants receive notice. 
This note on this curious Knotweed is a digression, but it 
serves to bring me back to my subject of the garden in December 
by reminding me of the curious appearance of Mesembryanthemum 
uncinatum, the only hardy Fig Marigold or Noon Flower with 
which I am acquainted. I have grown it for several years, and it 
is perfectly hardy here, but is only valuable from its curious 
gnarled-looking growth. I cannot get it to flower, but would by 
no means have it absent from my garden. It is said to have a 
pale purple flower, and is a native of the Cape of Good Hope, 
whence it was introduced in 1725. Haworth is, I believe, the 
authority for the specific title, but I have been unable to obtain 
much information about the plant. It is, at all events, interesting 
in the rockery at all seasons. 
But the length of my MS. reveals to me that I have written 
too much. Yerdant Mossy Saxifrages with their kindred with 
encrusted foliage, mounds of grey-leaved alpine Pinks, trailing 
sheets of variegated Arabis, with the many evergreen plants, and 
the Heaths of the rock garden still attract our eyes, and would 
inspire my pen. A small plant of Ionopsidion acaule still exhibits 
its gem-like flowers in the border, and appeals for notice ere the 
