THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN’S COMPANION. —September 30,1856. 4G0 
ever, is expected to require liniugs. The bed is trod 
tolerably firm whilst makiug, and about three inches of 
old vegetable matter is placed over the dung, and on 
this the roots are placed. Some years since I used to 
take much pains in securing balls of earth to the roots; 
but I have long since proved that they are far better 
without, only taking care that all possible pains be 
taken over their removal, cutting and bruising as few 
roots as possible. The fact appears to be, that balls of 
earth attached to them merely serve to obstruct the free 
passage of the warmth from the fermenting materials. 
Divested of all soil when taken up, they prove ready 
consumers of that nutriment which the old ma- 
nurial matter we strew amongst the roots in the 
process of placing them is capable of affording. This 
fact we have proved with Rhubarb roots, which, indeed, 
may be forced in a very similar way. We take care to 
divest our Rhubarb roots of every particle of soil. 
The Asparagus is placed so thickly in the frames 
that one root fairly over-laps the next; but this is no 
real detriment to their forcing: indeed, the making a 
bed of fermenting materials and placing glass over it 
involve a good deal of trouble, or, in other words, 
expense, and it becomes requisite to produce all we can 
beneath it. The roots are kept damp from the moment 
they are taken out of the ground until they arc fixed in 
their position, and this is effected by the use of decayed 
manurial matters or old vegetable mould, which is 
washed in amongst the fibres by the action of the 
water-pot. We may now suppose the bed fairly at woi-k, 
surrounded by some cosy lining, and the roof covered 
with mats. Let me now speak of the heat requisite. I 
consider that 80 Q is the highest congenial point in 
Asparagus forcing; but I would rather put it in a fortnight 
earlier, and permit but 70° to 75°; not that it should 
merely dawdle into being, for I have generally found 
that the best which was pushed forward somewhat 
rapidly. As soon as the Asparagus rises through the 
soil light must be admitted, and as free a circulation of 
air as the weather will permit. The bottom-heat, also, 
must be watched, and if it rises instead of descending, 
there is no alternative but to water liberally and pull a 
portion of the lining away. 
And here I must pause a moment to offer a few 
observations on Asparagus in a blanched or green state. 
We all know that our neighbours on the Continent are 
loud in their praises as to White Asparagus, and we 
know equally well that the celebrated Drumstick 
Asparagus of London is notorious for being hard and 
tough. Doubtless the good people on the Continent 
produce tender White Asparagus, but very few of our 
London people will venture to boast of the tenderness 
of the White Grass of Covent Garden. 
However these things may be, of one thing I feel 
assured—that little demand exists in our English 
families for White Asparagus; and that, wherever it does 
exist, the mere colour is more desired by some persons 
than the flavour. The Asparagus we force may be 
eaten to within two inches of the stalk end, and, when 
used, is of a green cast rather than w r hite, and we have 
seldom heard a complaint urged against it. In pur¬ 
suance, then, of what we consider sound doctrine in 
Asparagus forcing, and in conformity with the genuine 
i British palate, we endeavour to produce green and 
tender Asparagus; and this leads me to show how it is 
; accomplished-. 
We give air on all occasions when it is tolerably mild, 
or can be tempered by any means; and we also permit 
the “ Grass” to enjoy a liberal amount of light. But here 
I may caution the inexperienced against riding a hobby 
too hard, an event by no means uufrequent. For my 
own part, I should bo as studious to guard against cold, 
frosty winds as to endeavour, on the other side, to 
invite air and light when obtainable in a proper form. 
I have ever found that unless a temperature of about 
50° to 58° be sustained, whatever the outward condition 
may be, the “Grass” becomes wiry or tough; in fact, 
who could for a moment imagine that such a tender 
vegetable substance so speedily developed could be other¬ 
wise if long arrested in its growth? 
It may, perhaps, be needless to recommend careful 
matting or covering up at nights on all occasions ; this 
we do, although we possibly leave air all night at the 
same time. 
I have been in the habit of watering with salt and 
water when the bed required “ cooling down,” and the 
practice is, doubtless, good; indeed, the plant, as to its 
natural habits, being an inhabitant of salt, marshy 
land, would at once seem to demand saline applications. 
But nobody doubts at this day such facts; the only 
error, if such there has been, consisted in this—that 
certain enthusiastic cultivators of this valuable esculent 
fancied that salt alone, without manurial matters, would 
produce first-rate Asparagus. Let us, therefore, con¬ 
sider salt in the light of a very useful adjunct to, rather 
than as a substitute for, manure. 
In conclusion, I may just remark, that it is well to 
use water in a tepid state freely during the forcing 
process, whether in a saline or manurial condition ; this, 
however, in part depends upon the bottom warmth. It 
must be remembered by beginners, that to water beds 
of fermenting materials, albeit the water be warm, is to 
lower their temperature ultimately. 
R. Errington. 
SHRUBLAND PARK. 
(Continued from page 454.) 
The grand flight of steps by which the upper and 
lower gardens are now united is the finest arrangement 
of the kind anywhere, owing to the natural advantages 
of the situation. As you go down the steps, each “land¬ 
ing” projects right and left beyond the line of the steps, 
| as in the successive flights of the cascades at the Crystal 
Palace. Both sides of the way are lined with vases 
and Scarlet Geraniums, and there is a breadth of twelve 
or fifteen feet on each side planted with dwarf Box, 
kept like short grass, but not so short. Beyond the 
Box is all wilderness to the Swiss cottage on the south, 
and to the Diana the opposite way, more than half a 
mile in all, and all the way quite as steep as a ladder 
would be from the Queen’s Pavilion, over the garden 
entrance in the great transept of the Crystal Palace, to ! 
the centre of the terrace, and that is almost the length 
of this grand staircase. 
The wilderness is the winter garden, the underwood 
being of Tree-Box, now about forty years old, from seeds 
sown at Shrubland. When you enter the “ Temple of the 
Winds,” which is the entrance to the top of the steps, 
and look down the whole length, and across the “ lower 
garden ” to an Italian loggia, from which the garden 
slopes to a great distance, and to the country beyond, 
the view is not uulike that from the Queen’s Pavilion 
aforesaid. When you reach the bottom you are on a 
green terrace nearly a mile long; but about one-third 
of the length is beyond the garden boundary on the 
north side, where the park takes a very gentle incline, 
lower than that part of the terrace within the garden, 
to a considerable distance, and then rises as gradually 
to the foot of the hill, against which it rises in a bold 
ascent, and terminates through an architectural finish¬ 
ing in the horizon. If the great tree of California had j 
happened to stand a little beyond, that is, below the j 
horizon, and its huge proportions rose against the blue i 
sky in the centre, the picture would have been complete, i 
This line was determined on when I was here this time 
three years, and I recollect one of the party wished to 
