320 
JOURNAL  .  OP  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER, 
April  IS,  1897. 
BRIEF  NOTES  ON  ALPINE  FLOWERS. 
Campanula  drabifolia. 
One  finds  as  a  rule  that  growers  of  alpines  are  disposed  to  view  with 
more  or  less  contempt  the  many  dwarf  annual  flowers  which  would  add 
greatly  to  the  attractions  of  their  rock  gardens.  They  may,  however,  be 
made  of  use  in  several  ways,  among  which  may  be  mentioned  the  tem¬ 
porary  furnishing  of  a  space  to  be  occupied  permanently  by  some 
perennial  plant,  or  carpeting  the  resting  place  of  bulbs.  From  time  to 
time  I  may  have  the  opportunity  of  referring  to  some  of  these  annual 
plants,  a  considerable  number  of  which  are  not  frequently  seen. 
The  little  Bellflower  known  as  Campanula  drabifolia  is  one  which  is 
excellently  adapted  for  the  rockery,  not  only  on  account  of  its  intrinsic 
beauty  but  also  because  of  its  dwarf  and  unobtrusive  habit.  Compared 
with  the  Portulaca  or  Mesembryanthemum  tricolor,  sometimes  used  for 
the  purposes  mentioned,  it  may  be  comparatively  dim  in  colour,  but  it  is 
quite  in  keeping  with  its  surroundings,  and  is,  moreover,  nearly  as  good 
on  a  rainy  day  as  a  sunny  one.  This  is  certainly  an  advantage  in  a 
climate  like  ours.  I  am  somewhat  in  the  difficult  position,  however,  of 
recommending  a  plant  of  which  one  has  to  say  that  we  do  not  know 
where  seed  can  be  obtained.  I  think  there  is  little  doubt  that  it  can  be 
procured  from  some  of  the  larger  seed  firms,  although  not  included  in 
their  catalogues.  It  is  well  worth  being  at  some  trouble  to  secure,  so 
pleasing  is  it  with  its  pretty  flowers  and  neat  habit  of  growth.  The 
flowers  of  the  type  are  of  a  pretty  violet  blue  with  a  tinge  in  it  of  the 
purple  so  prevalent  in  the  genus,  and  with  a  white  tube.  The  flowers 
are  very  freely  produced  above  the  leaves,  which,  like  the  rest  of  the 
plant,  are  covered  with  little  stiff  hairs.  There  is  also  a  white  variety, 
but  this  looks  ineffective  in  most  positions.  The  whole  plant  is  only 
about  3  inches  high.  It  was  to  be  seen  growing  a  year  or  two  ago  on  one 
of  the  beds  in  the  arrangement  of  plants  in  the  Royal  Gardens,  Kew. 
The  Draba-leaved  Harebell  was  introduced  from  the  Island  of  Samos  in 
1823,  and  ought  to  have  the  treatment  of  a  half-hardy  annual. 
Rhododendron  pr.ecox. 
Your  correspondent  “  A.  D.”  performed  a  useful  service  in  lately 
drawing  attention  to  this  beautiful  early-flowering  Rhododendron.  I 
may  perhaps  be  allowed  to  endorse  all  he  says  in  its  favour  and  to  point 
out  how  valuable  it  is  for  the  rock  garden.  There  is,  it  is  true,  consider¬ 
able  variety  in  the  way  of  shrubs  suited  for  this  purpose,  but  this  little 
one  yields  to  none  in  its  beauty  at  so  early  a  season  as  February  and 
March.  It  is,  1  think,  superior  to  either  R.  ciliatum  or  R.  dahuricum,  its 
parents,  and  in  this  garden  it  is  greatly  admired  by  those  who  see  it  at 
this  time  of  the  year,  when  its  foliage  is  hidden  by  its  rosy-peacb 
coloured  blooms.  It  appears  to  be  quite  hardy,  having  pulled  through 
the  extraordinary  winter  of  1894-95  without  injury  on  the  top  of  a 
rockery. 
Saxifraga  Burseriana  major. 
Possibly  there  may  be  some  who  would  like  to  know  something 
regarding  the  remark  made  in  these  notes,  on  page  215,  that  “  there  are 
two  varieties  passing  under  the  name  of  S.  Burseriana  major.”  It  is 
unfortunately  too  true  that  the  ordinary  form  of  Burseriana  is  some¬ 
times  supplied  for  the  major  form,  but  in  addition  there  are  two  distinct 
plants  to  be  found  under  the  name  of  the  coveted  and  admired  larger 
form.  The  true  form  keeps  high  in  price.  It  has  considerably  larger 
flowers  than  any  of  the  others.  It  also  blooms  considerably  earlier  than 
the  typical  Burseriana.  A  fair  sized  plant  of  this  major  form  is  very 
beautiful,  although  it  must  be  said  that  the  flowers  always  appear  to  me 
to  have  less  substance  than  the  others,  and  that  they  are  produced  less 
freely. 
The  variety  sometimes  seen  under  the  same  name,  which  we  may  for 
convenience  sake  call  pseudo-major,  has  flowers  little  larger  than  the 
ordinary  Burseriana,  but  it  comes  into  bloom  if  anything  a  short  time 
before  major.  The  confusion  is  rather  unfortunate,  but  it  may  be 
forgiven  if  one  is  eventually  able  to  secure  the  three  forms — viz., 
Burseriana,  B.  major,  and  B.  pseudo-major.  The  last  I  received  from  an 
experienced  cultivator  who  afterwards  told  me  that  a  high  authority  on 
Alpine  flowers  said  it  was  not  the  true  major — an  opinion  with  which  I 
quite  coincide. 
Maianthemum  Convallaria. 
It  is  rather  distressing  for  those  who  are  acquainted  with  this  little 
flower  to  have  to  search  for  it  in  the  Kew  Handlist.  I  believe  I  first  got 
it  a  good  many  years  ago  as  Convallaris  bifolia,  and  it  has  also  at 
various  times  appeared  as  Smilacina  bifolia  or  Maianthemum  bifolium, 
and  now  we  must  accustom  ourselves  to  the  name  of  Maianthemum 
Convallaria,  which  is  Weber’s  title  for  it.  It  has  also,  I  see,  been  called 
Smilacina  canadensis.  If  we  asked  “  An  Old  Boy”  who  has  been  ably 
pointing  out  the  usefulness  of  learning  the  meaning  of  the  botanical 
names  of  plants,  he  would  tell  us  that  Maianthemum  means  “  May 
Blossom,”  from  the  time  in  which  it  blooms.  From  the  specific  name, 
which  I  take  to  be  used  as  being  the  pre-Linnean  generic  one,  we  may 
safely  make  use  of  the  English  form,  and  speak  of  the  “Lily  of  the 
Valley  May  Blossom.” 
Quite  a  union  of  pleasant  sounding  names,  and  a  full  recompense, 
surely,  for  being  burdened  by  botanistB  wiih  such  a  Latin  name  !  It  is 
a  modest  little  flower,  too,  but  although  so  shy  and  retiring  in  its  ways 
has  been  figured  in  good  books  several  times.  This  little  May  Blossom 
is  a  native  of  the  northern  temperate  regions,  and  is  found  in  some 
parts  of  Britain.  It  grows  only  7  or  8  inches  high,  producing  from  each 
crown  a  couple  of  leaves  and  a  raceme  of  from  twelve  to  thirty  very 
small  white  flowers.  It  possesses,  as  a  matter  of  course,  no  brilliancy, 
but  is  a  pretty  little  plant  in  a  moist  and  shady  corner  of  the  rock 
garden,  where  it  can  ramble  among  the  stones  with  its  creeping  root¬ 
stocks.  Although  this  “  May  Blossom  ”  runs  pretty  freely,  it  can  be 
easily  kept  within  bounds. — Alpinus. 
(To  be  continued.) 
NATURAL  BEAUTY  IN  PLEASURE  GROUNDS. 
Formality  and  a  primness  that  chills  are  too  often  apparent  In 
pleasure  grounds,  and  the  truth  we  need  to  grasp  is  the  power  of  Nature 
to  afford  beauty.  Let  us  idealise  a  little.  It  may  be,  we  have  broad 
lawns  stretching  outwards  from  two  or  more  sides  of  the  mansion  to  the 
very  boundary.  Dotted  about  are  mixed  clumps  of  grasses,  shrubs,  and 
small  trees,  carefully  kept  within  limits  which  are  strictly  geometrical, 
viewed  from  walks  as  straight  as  a  ray  of  light,  or  else  bending  in 
fantastic  curves,  made  even  when  no  obstacles  block  the  way.  These 
and  a  few  other  petty  contrivances  all  tend  in  one  direction — viz.,  the 
ousting  of  Nature  to  so-called  Art. 
Mentally  viewing  the  subject,  let  us  suppose  ourselves  at  the  outer 
limit  or  boundary.  We  have  seen  that  closely  shorn  lawns  are  carried 
to  this  extreme,  bordered  probably  by  a  belt  of  dark  thought-saddening 
evergreens,  which  it  may  be  are  ineffectual  to  screen  some  ungainly 
object  or  objects  just  outside.  Some  30  yards  inwards  a  walk  bisects 
the  lawn,  leaving  between  the  outer  belt  and  itself  a  strip  of  the  afore¬ 
mentioned  short  grass,  in  which  a  group  of  Laurels  are  compactly 
arranged.  Other  artificialities  may  also  exist. 
Now,  instead  of  machining  the  grass  to  the  edge  of  the  pleasure 
ground  area,  let  us  leave  it  slightly  towsy,  only  using  the  scythe  to 
restrain  it  from  dire  rampancy.  Thus  shall  we  have  a  beautiful  mantle 
of  the  freshest  green.  Also,  instead  of  having  clumps  of  stiff  Laurels 
placed  so  accurately  in  their  various  positions,  we  should  much  more 
enjoy  the  scene  if  a  rootery  and  branchery  (not  a  large  one)  could  be 
formed — one  which  would  appear  as  if  Nature  had  made  it — of  old 
gnarled  roots  and  branches  of  Oak,  Elm,  or  Ash,  having  all  the  knots, 
fissures,  and  scars  preserved,  to  add  to  them  interest  and  beauty. 
Suppose  we  had  the  materials,  our  first  thoughts  would  be  as  to  where 
we  might  place  them.  This,  of  course,  cannot  be  settled  by  mere  state¬ 
ments  on  paper,  especially  so  in  this  mental  picture. 
If  we  follow  the  general  rules  for  beauty  no  glaring  effect  must  be 
produced,  no  great  piles  of  huge  roots  on  view,  and  if  the  strip  of  lawn 
be  a  long  straight  stretch  we  must  not  have  a  great  mound  in  the  centre 
of  the  space,  or  yet  at  the  ends.  Better  to  have  one  or  two  small  adorn¬ 
ments  blending  with  the  herbage  around  them,  and  hidden  each  from 
the  other,  yet  producing  at  different  points  a  pleasing  effect.  Have  any 
of  you  ever  roamed  through  a  neglected  forest  1  If  so,  did  you  observe 
those  huge  limbs  slumbering  in  negligent  security,  not  too  closely  yet 
together  ?  Through  the  same  neglect  which  laid  them  there  mosses  and 
lichens  have  overspread  them,  wavy  grass  wanders  lovingly  among 
hardy  Ferns,  and,  as  if  keeping  guard  over  a  sacred  charge,  the  stately 
Foxgloves  tower  over  all.  Leaves  blow  in  and  about  them,  depositing 
material  for  new  vigour  and  fresh  embellishment. 
Cannot  we  then  reproduce  a  forest  picture  in  a  garden  ?  Have  your 
rugged  tree  roots  set  in  a  fashion  indicative  of  upturned  trees,  one  or 
two  crooked  limbs  lying  peacefully  at  the  base  of  a  gentle  elope,  which 
should  taper  away  gradually  on  that  side  least  exposed  to  the  admirer. 
We  only  wish  a  few  roots  carefully  placed,  or  a  tree  trunk  and  limbs 
somewhere  near,  lying  well  firmed  on  a  carefully  studied  outline,  an  out¬ 
line  which  Nature  herself  might  have  figured.  It  will  also  be  necessary 
to  have  a  background,  a  rest  for  the  eyes.  Nothing  it  seems  to  me  could 
be  better  than  a  considered  selection  of  Rhododendrons.  These  should 
spring  from  the  base  of  the  bank  on  the  boundary  side,  so  that  the  bank 
with  its  roots  and  branches  lie  between  them  and  the  observer  from  the 
walk.  Dwarf  narrow-leaved  varieties  of  a  white  or  soft  pink  colour 
should  be  to  the  front,  while  backwards  those  of  more  prominent  foliage 
and  darker  hue  of  bloom  might  be  more  sparsely  diffused,  allowing  room 
for  the  spread  of  the  strong  arms  and  haughty  heads  of  the  Giant  or 
Cow  Parsnip  (Heracleum  giganteum).  These,  when  as  if  aimlessly  traced 
away  back  in  the  depths  of  green,  have  an  appearance  unique  in  their 
dignified  Berenity. 
Might  I  suggest  the  use  of  those  gems  the  Birches  ?  The  silvery  white 
bark,  the  long,  pendent,  whipcord-like  streamers  called  branches,  or 
perhaps  branchlets,  and  the  lovely  serrated  leaves,  give  this  tree,  at 
least  many  of  its  varieties,  almost  incomparable  delicacy.  Many  species 
are  known,  but  for  brevity  and  aim  I  shall  only  mention  the  pendent 
form  commonest  with  us,  Betula  alba  Youngi.  I  would  have  these, 
hovering  on  the  outskirts  acting  as  rearguards.  And  could  we  not  use 
the  light,  hardy,  and  valuable  Larch  trees  as  protectors  and  guardians 
of  all  within  the  pleasure  ground  limits  ? 
It  will  be  seen  that  the  choice  has  been  to  render  the  completed 
whole  one  of  lightness,  restful,  and  interesting  beauty.  It  would  be 
bad  taste,  I  fear,  to  try  further  improvements  by  dotting  about  more  of 
shrub  and  tree  growth.  Simplicity  weds  with  negligence  in  Nature.  We 
might  add  a  few  climbing  Roses,  twining  these  up  and  around  the 
stems  and  lower  branches  of  the  Birches.  Space  hampers  my  detailing 
or  even  suggesting  more  of  these  twining  or  climbiDg  plants,  the  healthful 
elegance  of  which  are  known  to  all. 
But  are  we  to  leave  out  of  thought  the  jewels — the  bonnie  wee 
flowers?  No.  The  Snowdrop,  so  fresh  and  early,  would  be  at  home 
there.  Also  I  love  the  wax-like  white  Crocus,  the  Poet’s  Narcissus,  the 
sweet-scented  Woodruff,  and  the  Campanula  turbinata  alba,  which  give 
