April 25, 1889. } 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
329 
I N the heart of the City of Amsterdam there is a large building 
called “ The Palace or an Industrious People.” It is resorted 
to, not for labour, but for rest, and those 'who have been occupied 
on business affairs love to linger there in their hours of leisure. 
The building and the objects with which it was erected were 
described to me with pride on a visit to the quaint, canal-intersected 
city by one who had had some share in its establishment, and when 
my kind and courteous guide recently visited London I thought I 
■should like to return the compliment and show him some great 
institution of an industrious people here ; but it was not a palace 
of pleasure that I determined to take him to see. Whether the 
old saying that Englishmen take their pleasure sadly be true or not, 
there can be no doubt that we shine more in our working than our 
leisure hours. We are a nation of shopkeepers : our throne is a 
-counter. Paul de Cassagnac, that much be-duelled Frenchman, has 
.said it, so if we are honoured with visitors from other lands it is 
true wisdom to show them our better—our shopkeeping—side, and 
impress them with the fact that the old and sea-girt country is still 
working on, her industries still flourishing, the business spirit of her 
sons still paramount. 
To the horticulturist at all familiar with London there is one 
place which can be pointed out to the visitor, above all others, with 
-pride as the Palace of an industrious people,” and that is Covent 
Garden Market. The products of horticulture are sent to it from 
all parts. They embrace the commonest and the choicest forms. 
Within a comparatively small—though lately increased—area, and 
through approaches that are obviously inadequate, there is con¬ 
ducted the largest trade in garden products, useful and ornamental, 
■economical and luxurious, that is known to the world. To this 
great centre of industry I repaired with my foreign companion on 
the morning before Good Friday. It is interesting, first of all, to 
■take a general survey. The hour is 4.30 a.m. Away from the 
precincts of the Market the mighty City is asleep. AVithin and 
about there is noise and feverish activity. Without, the noise and 
bustle of the day are stilled. Turn to the great flower market. 
It may be entered from Wellington Street. From bottom to top 
of the thoroughfare there are packed an apparently inextricable 
host of vehicles of all shapes and sizes, from the huge vans not un¬ 
connected with furniture removal to the neat covered cart of the 
smart Piccadilly florist or the barrow of the costermonger. A 
narrow passage up each side allows a meagre space for ingress and 
■egress. Along these passages the arrivals and those who are making 
an early departure steer with a skill that to the unpractised eye is 
little short of marvellous. Accidents, even of the most trivial 
nature, are rare. Along the pathway hurry men and women with 
such loads of plants balanced on their heads as would strike envy 
into the heart of a Turk, and I have read that in the Turkish 
ports the sturdy British tars struggle in vain with loads that the 
wiry natives carry off with ease. 
Enter the Market and the scene is a thousandfold more remark¬ 
able. The stands comprise a frontage of nearly 1000 yards, and 
every one of them is closely packed with plants and flowers. Select 
a vacant corner and look around. The unwary visitor sometimes 
makes his survey at a busy spot, and the crash of a heavy basket 
against his head, and the voice of the Market porter exhorting him 
in tones that could be heard on the other side of the Thames to 
No. 461 .—Vol. XVIII., Third Series 
“ git out of it,” are a gentle hint to him that he is in the way. In 
view of Good Friday the Market has opened at the early hour of 
four, and the vast bulk of the material on view, with the unusually 
large number of buyers, make the scene more than usually animated. 
And not only is the display remarkable from the number and 
diversity of the plants but from their splendid condition. Were 
every gardener in the kingdom cognisant of the cultural rules that 
guide the market grower their simplicity would amaze him, and the 
result as exhibited at Covent Garden would surprise him still more. 
The private gardener and the market grower have different ends in 
view, and it is natural that they should approach them by different 
ways. Good culture is practised by both, but the grower for profit 
has the simpler routine. Many will have remarked on the distinct 
style of market plants. Mix a dozen with twelve others as usually 
grown in a private garden, and the plants can be separated with 
unerring accuracy. Those at Covent Garden are in the perfection 
of cleanliness and vigour. Amongst the hundreds of thousands 
of them it would be safe to say that hardly a score of insects 
could be found ; and a maximum amount of vigour and beauty 
seems to be produced from a minimum quantity of soil. 
Many of the plants and flowers on sale are being bought with a 
view to Easter church decoration. Richardia fethiopica, the Arum 
Lily, is in great demand. Its pure white spathes are highly appro¬ 
priate for the purpose. Rising from a groundwork of other 
plants, such as feathery Spiraeas, they are very beautiful. I have 
seen such an arrangement edged with dwarf bulbs at the foot of 
a reading desk, and it was very much admired. Marguerite Chrys¬ 
anthemums, white and yellow, are present in great numbers ; the 
fine white free-flowering variety Halleri is a beautiful church plant, 
and at Covent Garden there are splendid examples of good culture. 
Eucharis amazonica, another valuable flower, is not abundant, but it 
is represented. Azaleas are extremely useful, and at Covent Garden 
both the mollis and indica varieties are present in great num¬ 
bers. Of the latter the white semi-double Deutsche Perle is one 
of the best. Roses are temptingly arranged. Opening buds of the 
useful Niphetos, the apricot Safrano, the creamy Marie Yan 
Houtte, faintly suffused, the flesh-coloured Catherine Mermet and 
others are exquisitely beautiful. The street flower sellers linger 
around them, but the beautifully chiselled form, soft colour, 
and subtle perfume of the flowers are to them only means of 
turning over money. The lady visitor may think, “ How lovely ! ” 
The remark that frames itself in the mind of her humbler sister 
will be, “ How much will they fetch ? ” In her hard struggle for 
existence there is time for no other consideration than this. AVho 
can blame her ? 
Another plant that seems to be in great demand for the 
churches, and is well represented in the Market, is the beautiful 
Bermuda Lily, Lilium Harrisi. The plants are 3 to 4 feet high, 
each with two to six pure white flowers. Last year the Bermuda 
Lily spelt profit, and large profit, to at least one or two market 
growers ; this season it will be in the hands of more of them. 
Some idea of the scale on which it is now being grown may be 
gathered from the fact that a large grower informed me in the 
autumn that he had potted 20,000 bulbs. Mignonette is repre¬ 
sented by sturdy plants 6 or 8 inches high from the rim of the pot, 
each with six to twelve large spikes of bloom, deliciously fragrant, 
the foliage ample and healthy. Near them is another sweet old 
favourite, the Heliotrope. The plants are a foot high, with several 
of their highly perfumed trusses. The variety is a dark one, 
perhaps the same as that grown in gardens under the name of 
Triomphe de Liege. Of the bright yellow Cytisus racemosus 
there are great banks, the plants resembling golden balls a foot 
in diameter. Bulbs—such as Hyacinths, Tulips, and Narcissi— 
are plentiful. Gardenias, Stephanotises, and Odontoglossums are 
arranged in shallow boxes. Large bunches of Lily of the A r alley, 
and Lilac with white flowers and leaves from being forced in 
darkness, are beautiful and fragrant. Cyclamens, Cinerarias 
No. 2117.—Vol. LXXX., Old Series. 
