THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN’S COMPANION, December 16, 1856. 185 
bis knife slashes them down. This he repeats till they are 
gradually brought to the top of the house. About this time 
he gets some wonderful bunches, and gets to himself a won¬ 
derful name as a Grape-grower. Presently “ something 
comes over” his Vines; they do not do as they ought to do. 
Nevertheless, he slashes and spurs away with his knife, 
pours on tank-water and other stimulants, but yet no great 
bunches arrive. Ultimately he comes to the conclusion 
that the roots want examining; and here, again, his as¬ 
sumed quackery of root pruning suits his purpose. He 
cuts down his rods, and altogether makes, as it were, new 
plants. Away they go for another fine bunch or two, and 
once more he considers that he has traced the cause of the 
failure and effected the cure. 
But this improvement is only for other two or three years, 
when, by the old quackery, down come their colours again. 
He lias now so far got rid of lunacy, resumed common sense, 
and is quiet. His argument now is, Nature must be studied, 
and he says, “ If I had allowed the rods to extend in pro¬ 
portion to their roots, my trouble, for the most part, might 
have been saved.” 
It is, in my opinion, altogether inconsistent with Nature 
and common sense that Vines thus treated will continue to 
give great bunches. On the contrary, I believe they will 
ultimately dwindle away to poor things if their organs of 
nutrition are not discriminately equalized both at the roots 
and the branches. I appeal to the results of practice, and 
to the laws of vegetable physiology, if what I have attempted 
to describe is not downright ruin to the constitution of the 
Vine, as well as to any other plant. As another instance, 
have we not abundant proof of the injudicious use of the 
knife in almost every young Peach-tree we have from a 
nursery ? Disease is grafted in their constitution; every 
good gardener remarks it, and every ruined tree confirms 
it. 
I would suggest that, instead of planting Vines in front, as 
is the common error, we should plant them at the ends, and 
train longitudinally, beginning to train the rods along the 
front when lowest, and then backwards and forwards till the 
top is reached. In this case, the border being at the end 
may be outside the garden, even into the dung-heap, where 
it can be handled at pleasure, and do away with the un¬ 
sightly litter necessary for their protection, and which is 
always an eyesore where the kitchen-garden is resorted to 
for recreation. 
My noble employer, Viscount Clifden, contemplates erect¬ 
ing a Vinery 120 feet long, which will have the finest site 
the “ Green Isle ” can give. I shall alarm the “ natives,” 
and get myself into terrible ridicule, if at each end I make 
the borders, and there plant the Vines.— William Miller, 
Gowran Castle Gardens, County Kilkenny. 
HARDY HERBACEOUS GARDEN PLANTS. 
TRITOMA. 
In a recent number we find Tritomas noticed as being 
“ the finest things we have in autumn,” and it appears to 
us very remarkable that some of these beautiful plants have 
been introduced, or at least known, for more than a century, 
and are only now beginning to emerge from obscurity, and 
meet with general cultivation. 
As garden plants the whole genus is extremely elegant, of 
easy culture, and their value is greatly enhanced by mostly 
blooming at that period when the yellow lustre of autumn is 
beginning to mingle with the bleak tints of threatening 
winter, Nature having admirably adapted them for resisting 
the storms peculiar to that season. 
v Although natives of the Cape they prove perfectly hardy in 
ordinary situations, preferring a dry, rich, sandy soil; and, for 
the safety of the scarcer sorts, they should have a mulching of 
leaves, or such-like materials, to protect them during winter. 
They are easily increased by offsets, which may be removed 
in autumn, potted, and kept in cold frames over winter, and 
replanted in the open ground in April. 
We are acquainted with six species or varieties of these 
interesting plants, and shall first notice what we consider 
the finest in the group, viz., Tritoma uvaria. Leaves, as in 
all the other species, triangular, three to four feet long, | 
deep green, smooth on the edges; flower-stems, in well- 
grown specimens, about five feet high; flowers scarlet and 
orange. One of the most striking herbaceous plants we 
possess, and cannot be too highly recommended; in per¬ 
fection during September and October. 
Of more recent introduction, and scarcely inferior to the 
preceding, is T. Burchellii, often confounded with the last 
species, but very distinct. The leaves are shorter, more 
rigid, erect, lighter green, finely serrated on the edges ; 
scape about four feet high; flowers orange, shading into 
scarlet at the base. 
Amongst the novelties of the past summer we have had 
in flower, for the first time, T. Rooperii. This very hand¬ 
some, and, as yet, rare species was found in Kaffraria by 
Capt. E. Rooper, who describes it as “ growing in marshy 
places.” The leaves are long, two inches broad at the base, 
recurved, tapering to a long point, serrated scape, with us 
thirty inches high; spike roundish ovate, terminating in a 
coma of crowded, membranous bracts ; subtending, abortive 
flowers. Unlike the rest of its tribe it blooms in July. 
Colour, deep red, the lower blossoms slightly tinged with 
orange. 
As a winter-flowering plant T. glauca is conspicuous. We 
have, however, always had some doubt about this being 
really distinct from the following species. The only dif¬ 
ference we can perceive, apart from minute botanical dis- 
xinctions, is in its somewhat stronger habit and hardier con¬ 
stitution. The leaves are about two feet long, deep glaucous 
green, smooth; scape three feet high, producing pseudo¬ 
buds at the bracts, which soon become a tuft of leaves; 
spike six inches in length ; flowers red, tipped with orange. 
It sends up abundance of suckers from the roots, and is 
more readily increased than any of the foregoing species. 
Closely allied to the last is T. media, an old inhabitant of 
our gardens, more generally known than any of the other 
sorts, and is still worthy of cultivation. It commences flower¬ 
ing late in autumn, and may be seen rearing its assuming 
head to the storm, while summer flowers sleep beneath the 
desolation of winter, continuing in bloom until late in 
spring, as if to welcome renovated Nature again bursting 
forth into loveliness. 
The last and least in point of size, though not in interest, 
is T. pumila, a distinct and pretty little species seldom met 
with in collections. The flower-stem is about one foot high; 
spike one to two inches long; flowers pendulous, orange 
scarlet; in bloom during November.— James Rae, Edin¬ 
burgh, 
FILBERT CULTURE. 
{Continued from page 147.) 
Having, at page 147, described the propagation and 
planting of the Filbert as a fruit-tree, 1 now come to 
the most important part, in which the culture of this 
district differs from that of others—the Pruning ; for, 
perhaps, of all fruit-trees, not even excepting the hot¬ 
house Grape, 1 am not aware of any in which the knife 
is so freely, if not severely, used as in the Filbert. In 
fact, the cutting of a Filbert in Kent has been at all 
times a subject of wonder to those who have seen the 
same tree grown high enough in other counties to 
require a thirty or forty-round ladder to gather the few 
fruits it produced, whereas here the smallest boy that is 
able to work lor sixpence a day can reach from the 
ground all the nuts a large plantation grows. So close 
is the pruning, that, notwithstanding the vigorous and 
healthy growths every year, the trees are all kept so low 
as seldom to present a bunch of nuts higher than five 
feet from the ground. This, it is needless to say, is not 
attained all at once. Like all other trained trees, the 
Filbert must be started right at first, otherwise it is 
difficult to make a good one of it; in fact, much of 
the after-success depends on the way the tree is started 
off; consequently, the job of Filbert pruning is one of ( 
those which every labourer on a farm is not able to do, 
and which is generally performed by those who have 
been accustomed to it for years. 
