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JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER 
[ May 20, 1886. 
London parks,” but upon that point I am not in a position to pass an 
opinion.—J. Copson, Down Ampney. 
A DAY IN THE COUNTRY. 
“ Nothing novel in this,” may well be muttered by gardeners and 
readers of garden literature who spend the greater part of the time in the 
open air, far from the “ madding crowd ; ” but are there not gardeners 
even who spend week after week “ within the walls,” where the softened, 
heated air becomes oppressive, and “ under glass,” where the temperature 
is exhausting, who would not enjoy a day in the country now and then, 
and feel refreshed by the exhilirating breezes from the hills or the ocean ? 
Without a doubt there are. But there are gardeners and lovers of 
gardens, the greater part of whose time is spent, not in the country but in 
the environs of towns, and some even in the heart of the greatest city in 
the world. These are they who enjoy an escape from the noise of ever- 
revolving wheels and clatter of hoofs, the rush and the hum of the 
seething multitude, jostling together in the multifarious duties of life ; 
and of such I am one. 
My “ day in the country ” was very like a whirl; a case of being “ on 
the move” from 6 A.m. to 12.30 p.h. through eight counties—Worcester¬ 
shire, Gloucestershire,Warwickshire, Staffordshire, Oxfordshire, Berkshire, 
Buckinghamshire, Middlesex, and home again to Surrey. But I started 
overnight, and rested for the coming day in a quiet parsonage. It w as 
the result of a letter to this effect :—“ If you can leave Paddington at 
1 p.m. on Tuesday and book to Leamington I will meet you there, and if 
fine, drive you here through some of our most charming Warwickshire 
scenery.” The invitation was irresistible ; the “ here ” referred to in it 
was Alderminster ; the writer the Rev. J. A. Williams. Mr. Williams is 
widely known in the Rose world, not so much as a great exhibitor, but as 
one of the best of the expert judges who officiate at the National Rose 
Society’s shows ; he is, moreover, a first-rate grower of Roses in his not 
large garden ; in fact, a good cultivator generally; a hard and successful 
worker in parochial affairs, and has the true English gentleman’s tact of 
making his friends at home the moment they enter his gates. 
SPRING’S DELIGHTS. 
There is, perhaps, no time of the year when an escape from town i s 
more enj yable than during the early days of May. Trees, half robed 
with foliage fresh and tender ; pastures and cornfields full of green, not 
brown, banks sparkling with flowers, rivulets shimmering in the sunlight, 
and birds singing merrily all around. Dwellers in the country, or many 
of them, heed not these charms ; the buds swell gradually and leaves 
unfold imperceptibly ; the grass grows and flowers open in the ordinary 
way, the change from day to day not being sufficiently marked to receive 
notice, and the music of birds is not appreciated. But, hear no birds for 
months, and see no fields nor tree-clad hills, then take as it were a sudden 
bound amongst them, and spring’s delights will be seen and felt in all their 
refreshing reality. 
WARWICK—ANCIENT AND MODERN. 
But I am at Leamington, and Mr. Williams is on the platform- 
“ Jump in again,” was the first greeting ; “ let’s run on to Warwick, only 
a couple of miles, and we shall escape some dusty roads and troops of 
people returning from the races.” A happy thought, for there is nothing 
more repugnant—to me, at least, however others may enjoy it—than the 
reckless rushing ‘‘from the races,” when the roads are inches deep in 
dust, and the track is indicated as by a line of smoke. At Warwick, then, 
we arrive in ten minutes or 30 ; and in a moment the mind is carried 
back to the far distant past by ancient buildings and the towers of the old 
castle, which was described by Dugdale as “ the most princely seat within 
these Midland parts.” It is undoubtedly a magnificent pile, and it is 
gratifying to observe in these days of “ advanced ” notions that a strong 
and deep-rooted antipathy exists against tampering with the ancient 
buildings that adorn our land. So old is Warwick Castle that its founda¬ 
tion is attributed to Etheldreda, daughter of King Alfred, in A.D. 915, 
and it was bestowed at the Conquest on Henry de Newburgh, the first 
Norman Earl of Warwick. We leave it on the left, pass another venerable 
and exceedingly picturesque building, Leicester Hospital, on the right, 
emerging from the town through an ancient gateway, and are fairly on 
our way to Alderminster. We do not travel far before a contrast is pro¬ 
vided for a moment’s reflection. From the very ancient we come in con¬ 
tact with the extremely modern ; not that the village of Barford, em¬ 
bosomed in trees, appears as if built yesterday ; but because one of its 
sons, named Joseph Arch, labourer, has ceased for a time to delve there, 
and, to give him his full title, has become Joseph Arch, Esq., M.P., legis¬ 
lator. “ And what sort of a character is this Mr. Arch?” I ventured to 
ask of my clerical guide. “ Oh, well, you know, he can make speeches, 
and say funny things about parsons, but I don’t think he’s a bad fellow 
after all.” That was generous. “ Bad fellows ” ought not to legislate, 
yet so diverse are the minds of men that possibly not one reader of these 
lines believes that “ only the best ” are sent to serve their Queen and 
country at Westminster. Then I instinctively looked over the land, and 
saw it was not good nor highly cultivated, and felt very thankful I was 
not doomed to dwell in that locality with “ three acres and a cow.” The 
plan might answer with some persons in certain districts, but to advocate 
anything like uniformity in respect to it regardless of personal aptitude 
and natural resources were in the last degree chimerical, and that being so 
the pastoral dream will never be realised. 
We are uudoubtedly traversing a beautiful district, but not a rich one 
yet now and then evidence is afforded that the land is capable of im¬ 
provement. Much of it is cold and profitless by want of drainage and 
much impoverished by masses of twitch (couch). As compared with 
some districts where high-class farming is practised, the condition of 
great tracts of land in the Midlands is markedly inferior, and it cannot 
be satisfactory to either owners or occupiers until more capital, labour, 
and fertilisers are employed in its management. But we are nearing 
our rendezvous and find better land and better husbandry. 
ALDERMINSTER AND ALLOTMENTS. 
The village of Alderminster is a model village. Such cottages are 
seldom seen; they stand in pairs back from the road, covered with 
climbers, and the front gardens attractive with evergreens and flowers. 
They were built by the lord of the manor, J. R. West, Esq., and are let 
with good gardens attached for a shilling a week. If the peasantry here 
do not know who are their friends they are very obtuse and in need 
of sound education. They have their allotments too, and on this matter 
Mr. Williams must allow me to do a simple act of justice, even at the 
risk of according him a measure of praise which I know he does not 
covet. If all had done what he has carried out, persons who live by 
agitation would have been deprived of their weapons. He has a portion 
of his glebe divided into allotments, and not the worst portion either, but 
the best, and not distant from the village, but close to it; and not let at a 
higher rent than that charged to large farmers, but lower. He has also 
established a custom different from all others of which I am cognisant, 
and it answers well. It appears to be founded Bomewhat on that of the 
Emperor of China and his doctors. So long as His Majesty remains in 
good health he pays them well ; when he is ill he stops their stipends, 
shrewdly suspecting no doubt they will cure him as soon as possible. Mr. 
Williams is no rack-renter ; he does not tax his tenants on their own 
improvements, but exactly the reverse. So long as their plots afford 
evidence of superior culture the regular low rent only is charged, but 
when signs of negligence are apparent an extra 25 per cent, is imposed— 
that is, instead of paying £l,the charge is 25s. If this does not effeot a 
cure, the land of the good cultivators is increased, those of the negligent 
proportionately decreased. It is not often, however, that the rent increase 
fails in its object, and the tenants are not slow to remind each other if 
they do not “ look up they will have to pay the extra five bob.” It is a 
capital idea and, as started, works well. 
THE CHURCH AND ROSES. 
Alderminster Church is a beautiful structure—a grand old English 
edifice that has lately been restored. It is cruciform with a massive tower 
in the centre, and as perfect in its proportions as can well be imagined. 
It is solid, substantial, and good, with nothing to offend either the 
ritualist or the puritan. It is ancient, the old consecration mark in the 
original stone, which was discovered, and is built over the inner porch, 
being dated, I think, 1160, and the church was assigned to the Abbot and 
convent of Pershore in 1193. Roses have helped in the restoration of this 
fine edifice. The vicar, having made himself responsible for a considerable 
sura, hit on the expedient of selling blooms instead of giving them away 
to his friends, devoting the proceeds to the restoration fund ; the flowers 
being fine become famed and the demand great. Nor was this all, for 
purchasers next wanted trees, and Mr. Williams became a Rose commis 
sioner, selecting varieties aDd advising on their purchase and culture. Just 
as giving a few cuttings has often made a florist, so has the selling of 
Roses for a church made rosarians. The vicar deserves a rich harvest this 
year—but the winter has handicapped him—for be is working hard to 
accomplish his object in liquidating the claims in respect to the restora¬ 
tion of the fabric that has been so thoroughly renovated and which is 
answering its high purpose so well. 
MR. WILLIAMS’ GARDEN-ANEMONE APPSNINA. 
Mr. Williams does not reside at the vicarage, which is too small for a 
family man, but at Alderminster Lodge, a more commodious and very 
pleasant residence, built by the late vicar, who evidently possessed taste 
in planting trees, for handsome specimens of Cedars of Lebanon and other 
Conifers, with Purple Beeches, a Mulberry and other kinds, including a 
towering Lombardy Poplar, standing like a sentinel from a base of 
shrubs, appear to great advantage. Yews have also been disposed, so 
that when large enough they could be, and are, clipped to form screens 
and arches, thus at once being useful and ornamental. The lawn slopes 
some fifty yards southward, then suddenly dips to the boundary walk on 
the north hank of the Stour, and beyond the little but occasionally active 
river is a flat and beautiful expanse of country, many acres of which are 
occasionally submerged, the house and ground remaining high and dry on 
the eminence above. The garden was gay with bright beds of Tulips; 
but these were passed as very familiar types of beauty to borders of 
flowers of a different character and altogether lovely—great masses of 
Anemone appenina, having thousands of Cineraria-like bluish grey flowers, 
some of them 2 inches in diameter. It is not easy to imagine anything 
more lovely than a score of these on stems nearly a foot high from loose 
cushions of soft green leaves. But what is the secret of the vigour of 
this charming Alpine gem in shrubbery borders, which more or less are 
shadowed by trees f The answer is liquid manure given in winter. Mr. 
Williams must have been reading the Journal and testing some of the 
unorthodox suggestions occasionally found therein, and the experiment 
has proved a distinct success. The Anemone flowers that have covered 
the border for weeks were twice the size they are usually seen, and their 
chaste beauty was unmistakeable. The roots are never disturbed, and 
plants spring up in great informal masses, and on that account are 
perhaps the more enjoyable. It is clear they like liquid manure in the 
