! March 9. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
they become very mellow, especially if they were as they 
should be-—tolerably dry when Introduced; and here 
they are well shook and squeezed in a riddle, or sieve, 
until at least half of the mere soil tumbles out. After 
this, they are, what I consider, a precious article, and 
applicable in other cases besides Camellias; but of this, 
more another day. 
Now, before proceeding further, let me fairly assure 
the gardening world that I by no means suppose that 
this is the only good practice in Camellia culture. I 
utterly disclaim all such conceit; not out of fear of 
angry critics (who must live, as well as other folk), 
but because I neither can, would, nor ought to attempt, 
to repudiate the practice of other men of experience. 
There is, indeed, no monopoly in gardening know¬ 
ledge. My object is simply to show forth my own 
practice. I well know, that the Belgian nurseryman, 
who propagates his tens of thousands, as a trade affair, 
will laugh at it. The fact is, that in growing Camellias 
as trees, and to attract the notice of good judges, and 
those high in station, and to propagate up to selling- 
point, with a keen commercial eye, are two matters so 
widely differing (albeit the subject be the same) as to 
call forth differing practice. But I need say no more 
this way. Our exhibition-men can attest to the truth of 
these things. These turfy lumps, then, may be pre¬ 
sumed to constitute half the drainage system; and I thus 
handle them in the case of good-sized shifts. Large and 
curved crooks are first so placed over the hole, and so 
overlapping each other, as that three good outlets at 
least are provided for the escape of water; a very few 
smaller crocks fall amongst these, but not entirely cover 
them; and now a layer of these turfy lumps is placed 
over, but not so closely but that what are termed 
pounded crocks may be strewn over, so as to fall into 
every crevice; thus dividing every two lumps of turf, 
but not covering them overhead; this done, the whole 
is pressed down close with abroad-ended stick, and now 
a layer of smaller lumps are strewed over: on the latter 
is placed the ball. 
I have, in repotting, had, of course, annual opportu¬ 
nities of watching the “ wear and tear” of this drainage, 
and I can assure our readers that I have found it nearly 
as fresh after two years as when first inserted; and that 
there is no doubt that it will work in the most efficient 
manner for half-a-score years or more, if requisite care 
be taken that no extraneous matter gets jammed in 
when they are set out-of-doors, and that the manure- 
water be nearly as clear as good ale. 
As to the compost, it is chiefly composed of the same 
turfy material, but chopped tolerably fine by a sharp 
spade when in a dry or mellow state. Three-fourths of 
the loam, and one-fourth of chopped, sandy, turfy, heath 
soil, well blended, makes a capital compost of the most 
enduring character; for, be it understood, it is this 
power of endurance , or, in other words, of retaining its 
organic texture a long while, on which I take my stand 
as to growing noble Camellias; in this respect it will 
be seen that the gardener’s object differs from the 
nurseryman, who merely wants to make a smart saleable 
plant in little time. If the loam is very sound, very 
fine sand may be added to ensure porosity, or even 
pounded charcoal, but the Camellia seems to feel quite 
at home in loamy organic matter if possessing enough 
sand to prevent what is termed souring in the soil. 
In potting, I continue cramming in turfy lumps as 
opportunities occur, taking care to shake a finer compost 
amongst them, and in all cases to secure about a couple 
of inches of this finer compost over the lumps to finish 
with ; the latter proceeding I consider necessary, as it 
serves to divide the water equally in its passage, and, 
indeed, renders the surface less susceptible of sudden 
atmospheric changes, and provides against sudden 
droughts. 
Now, as to this liquid-manure which I think of first- 
rate importance for the production of fine blossoms 
with a dark shining foliage. For my part, I care little 
about nice blossoms, unless accompanied by that deep, 
rich, and glossy tint, for which the Camellia-leaf under 
first-rate culture is so famous. I have used various liquid- 
manures, both singly and in combination, but I think 
“ Gibbs’ Peruvian,” is not only complete in itself, but 
the most effective. But it must be obsorvcd, that a little 
suffices, and indeed so it ought, for it is somewhat costly 
in these times. I water my Camellias myself at all 
times. I like not to trust any hobnail fellow with this 
matter, and I therefore know full well how little will 
suffice if almost constantly administered. I certainly 
do not weigh it out; I have no occasion in this matter. 
I can tell instantly by the frothing of the water in the 
water-pot how the quality stands. But I will venture 
to affirm that I do not use an ounce to a gallon. But I 
use it almost constantly, from the period when the 
blossom buds are three-parts grown, until they have 
nearly ceased to make their young wood, when I not 
only cease manurial-waters, but apply a very limited 
amount of ordinary water. 
The guano is stirred up in a vessel for the purpose, 
and a little quick lime added; this soon clarifies it. It 
is, however, necessary to rack it off two or three times, 
and, if any difficulty arise in getting it clear, we 
simply add more water, and rack it off again; clear, 
however, it must be. I may here observe, in order to 
dispel any fallacious ideas that may arise as to the use 
of Guano water, that in its application to Camellias, in 
pots or tubs—I had almost said to pot plants in general 
—there can be no question that a special mode of potting 
must be resorted to. After all the clarifying we can 
practice, all liquid-manures have a tendency to clog the 
soil; that is to say, to prevent that free ingress of the 
atmosphere which is so necessary to the welfare of the 
roots, and to prevent that free percolation, or egress of 
moisture, which creates, as it were, a demand for atmos¬ 
pheric action; to say nothing of the ill effects on the 
very texture and organism of the fibres, produced by 
surplus moisture too long retained, and, by consequence, 
become stagnant and corrupt. 
I may here observe, that I this day measured blossoms 
of the Camellia Rossii at least fifteen inches in circum¬ 
ference, and some of the C. elegans, about the same 
size. In spite of all the fine, new kinds, what a fine 
thing is elegans ? A model for a first-rate Hollyhock. It 
is well named elegans, and the original raiser ought to 
be proud of it. C. imbricata, too, is still a fine thing; 
and as for C. triumphans, with its peach-coloured blos¬ 
soms, what a bouncing affair! We have one called 
Alcmene, a fine peach-coloured thing, raised by the late 
Dean of Manchester; that talented gentleman, so often 
named by my friend Beaton, in connection with Bulbs 
and hybridisation ; this is little known. We had it from 
Spofforth some years since, and it is very often a most 
beautiful and symmetrical thing. 
R. Errington, 
MEETING OF THE LONDON HORTICULTURAL 
SOCIETY.— 21st February, 1854. 
In my account of the last meeting, I told our readers 
that there would be a grand sight seen here to-day— 
specimens and drawings of the Duke’s Tree— Welling- 
tonicu gigantea; and the Society announced another 
grand sight which would come off at the same time 
and place—specimens to show the “ relative quality 
of Deodar and Cedar of Lebanon timber, by speci¬ 
mens from India and from Lebanon itself.” All 
young gardeners and governesses ought to gather 
“ specimens” of all plants which come in their'way, in 
