June  17,  U97. 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
525 
HARDY  FLOWER  NOTES. 
When  spring  was  with  us  we  thought  there  could  be  no  more 
attractive  time  in  the  garden,  so  full  was  it  of  floral  charms.  Yet 
now  that  Queen  Summer  reigns,  we  think  that  she,  too,  has 
•beauties  unsurpassed.  The  Tulips  and  the  Narcissi  have  gone, 
but  in  lieu  of  the  bright  colours  of  the  former  we  have  others 
brighter  still.  Great  Paeonia  flowers  of  imposing  beauty  vie  in 
brilliancy  with  the  fluttering  Poppies,  which,  for  a  short  space, 
unfold  their  fragile,  crinkled  petals  to  please  us  with  their  beauty 
«re  they  fall  to  the  earth  or  are  carried  off  by  the  wind.  Roses, 
"too.  have  come  as  if  to  show  their  superior  beauty  in  comparison 
with  the  blooms,  magnificent  as  they  are,  of  the  shrubs — the 
Rhododendrons — which  are  in  name  likened  to  these  royal  summer 
flowers.  Pyrethrums  -decorate  beds  and  borders  with  their  tas- 
selled  flowers,  while  the  Columbines  ace  delightful  in  their  forms 
and  colours. 
The  older  Aquilegias  still  hold  their  place  in  our  favour,  and 
are  much  loved  and  admired  despite  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the 
new  hybrids.  They  are  ubiquitous  here.  They  nod  from  the 
tops  of  rockeries,  swing  to  and  fro  to  the  wind  in  the  borders, 
ornament  the  margin  of  the  pool  or  encroach  upon  the  gravel 
walks  and  dispute  ownership  with  the  passer-by.  Like  the  Welsh 
or  Words  worth’s  Poppies,  and  others  of  the  same  family,  they  have 
become  weeds  in  this  garden,  but  weeds  so  beautiful  that  they  cost 
us  many  a  pang  when  they  have  to  be  ejected  ignominiously  from 
some  spot  reserved  for  other  flowers.  These  Columbines  are  of  all 
-colours  and  hues ;  blue  and  brown,  white,  and  almost  black-purple, 
pink,  and  yellow.  One  would  need  a  colour  chart,  and  even  with 
its  use  would  find  the  whole  list  of  colours  and  shades  insufficient 
to  describe  sufficiently  the  hues  of  this  old  and  favourite  flower. 
Then  the  forms  are,  if  not  so  varied,  at  least  very  numerous.  Long 
spurs,  short  spurs,  no  spurs;  single  flowers,  semi-double  flowers, 
double  flowers,  with  various  differences  of  form,  all  occur.  Who 
that  has  ever  grown  this  flower  could  use  with  pleasure  the  words 
of  Skelton,  and  say,  “  That  thankless  flower  grows  not  in  my 
garden  ?  ” 
It  is  pleasant  to  find  the  old  forms  still  appreciated  by  visitors 
to  the  garden,  and  to  see  them  so  delightfully  spoken  of  by  “  The 
Missus  ”  in  her  sketch  of  her  northern  garden  in  a  recent  issue 
of  the  Journal.  The  new  hybrids  grow  side  by  side  with  them 
here,  and  by-and-by  we  may  see  some  strange  results  of  this 
association.  Possibly  these  may  be  to  some  extent  a  retrograde 
step,  uudoing  in  some  way  the  work  of  the  Rev.  C.  Wolley-Dod, 
whose  exquisite  strain  of  hybrid  forms  is  the  one  I  have  ;  but 
there  will  still  be  enough  of  distinct  beauty  among  all  to  give  the 
flower-lover  his  reward  for  the  little  pains  the  Aquilegia  requires 
to  induce  it  to  grow. 
On  one  rockery  the  Starry  Daisy  Bush — Olearia  or  Eurybia 
-stellulata — is  a  mass  of  bloom.  This  counterpart  of  the  “  modest 
crimson-tipped  flower”  of  Burns,  from  the  Antipodes,  instead  of 
rising  timidly  from  the  turf  like  our  native  wilding,  grows  on  a 
bush,  and  even  near  at  hand  is  as  closely  set  with  flower  as  some 
lawns  which  afar  off  look  like  sheets  of  snow.  The  “crimson  tip” 
is  absent,  but  so  Daisy-like  are  the  blooms  that  the  came  of  Daisy 
Bush  is  fitly  givep.  It  seems  strange  that  this  species  is  hardy 
here  when  in  many  places,  even  farther  south,  it  cannot  Btand  the 
winter. 
June  is  a  time  of  Lupines,  too,  and  a  yellow  variety  of  the  Tree 
Lupine  (L  arboreu*)  is,  as  I  write,  loaded  with  its  pretty,  honey- 
scented  spikes.  Whaha  pity  it  isihat  these  Tree  Lupines  are  not 
long-lived,  as  their  effect  is  so  fine  that  they  are  welcome  every¬ 
where.  The  herbaceous  species  and  varieties  are  pretty  too, 
while  the  annuals  give  many  a  border  a  needful  variety  of  form 
and  colour.  I  have  not  room  to  grow  many  Lupines,  but  would 
fain  say  a  word  in  favour  of  a  little  more  attention  being  paid  to 
some  little  gro*n  species  seldom  seen  except  in  botanic  gardens. 
Yet  there  are  few  to  equal  the  forms  of  the  best  known  of  the 
herbaceous  species  (L.  polyphyllus),  with  their  long  and  tapering 
spikes  ranging  in  colour  from  deep  blue  to  white,  and  the  pretty 
bicolor  variety  with  its  blue  and  white  flowers. 
A  pretty  Anemone  has  passed  away  for  the  year,  but  one  would 
be  sorry  were  it  to  pass  unnoticed  here.  This  is  A.  balkana, 
whose  round  feathery  heads  of  seed  still  look  well,  and  which  grows 
on  the  level  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  rockeries.  On  my  return, 
after  a  few  days’  absence,  the  Balkan  Anemone  had  come  into 
flower,  and  at  first  sight  its  blooms  were  taken  to  be  those  of  a 
glorified  white  Iceland  Poppy,  or  those  of  a  very  miniature  single 
white  Pseony.  Like  those  of  the  Poppy,  they  were  crinkled,  and  far 
surpassed  in  purity  and  in  texture  the  fine  crinkled  papers  so  often 
used.  They  were  raised  on  stems  about  14  inches  high,  and  were 
much  admired  while  they  lasted,  which,  truth  to  tell,  was  too  few 
days  to  make  us  weary  of  their  loveliness.  As  the  sepals  fell  we 
thought,  as  we  often  think  when  looking  at  some  flowers,  of  the 
words,  “  Whom  the  gods  love  die  young,”  and  bade  a  long  farewell 
to  the  beauty  of  this  sister  of  the  Windflower  of  our  woods. 
More  fleeting  still  are  the  flowers  of  the  Cistuses  and  Helian- 
themums,  the  Rock  and  Sun  Roses.  There  are  few  of  the  former 
to  be  depended  upon  in  this  climate  of  ours  for  any  length  of  time, 
but  the  dwarfer,  but  no  less  beautiful,  Sun  Roses  last  for  years  on  a 
moderately  dry  bank,  and  when  June  comes  round  open  their  fragile 
flowers  to  the  morning  sun.  Of  all  our  flowers  there  are  few  more 
fleeting  in  their  beauty,  so  many  cast  their  petals  early  in  the  day, 
and  ere  night  the  little  bush,  which  the  sunlight  had  beguiled  into 
adorning  itself  with  a  garment  of  ephemeral  beauty  is  unadorned  once 
more,  and  so  quiet  and  homely  looking  that  the  passer  hardly  deigns 
to  glance  at  it.  It  will  be  found  that  these  Sun  Roses  like  a  little 
more  moisture  than  they  often  receive  in  the  intensely  hot  and  dry 
positions  in  which  they  are  sometimes  placed.  Where  the  soil  is  not 
excessively  dry  the  blooms  are  not  so  fugacious,  and  will  at  times 
last  until  the  evening. 
The  perennial  Peas  are  favourites  with  many,  and  are,  as  a  rule, 
very  decorative,  either  in  the  garden  or  as  cut  flowers.  The 
several  forms  of  Lathy rus  latifolius  show  much  variety  of  shade, 
none  being  of  more  value  as  a  cut  flower  than  the  ivory  like  blooms 
of  L.  1.  albus.  L.  grandiflorus  is  a  general  favourite,  and,  like  the 
foregoing,  is  very  beautiful,  clambering  over  a  hedge  or  trellis. 
I  have  been  trying  to  secure  some  of  the  rarer  perennial  Lathyri, 
with,  unfortunately,  only  partial  success.  This  year  I  have  first 
had  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  the  flowers  of  L.  pubescens,  which, 
rather  unexpectedly,  has  survived  the  cold  and  wet  of  the  past 
winter.  For  this  plant  I  was  indebted  to  Mr.  W.  E.  Gumbleton, 
who  has,  one  is  sorry  to  hear,  been  unsuccessful  in  keeping  it. 
The  plant  was  raised  from  seed  sent  from  Uruguay  to  Mr. 
Gumbleton,  and  has  been  grown  on  a  trellis  against  the  gable  of  an 
outhouse  in  the  garden.  It  appears  to  be  of  semi-shrubby  habit, 
the  flowering  branches  not  being  produced  directly  from  the  under¬ 
ground  stem,  but  from  the  old  stem  above  the  surface.  The 
flowers  are  entirely  distinct  in  colour  from  the  other  perennial 
Peas  generally  found  in  gardens,  and  are  of  a  fine  lavender  colour, 
the  lower  part  of  the  flower  being  light,  and  the  upper,  or  standards, 
darker.  There  are  eight  or  nine  blooms  on  each  raceme,  and  these, 
although  not  so  large  as  in  some  species,  are  very  effective  and 
pleasing  in  colour.  The  leaves  and  stems  of  this  Pea  are 
distinctly  pubescent,  so  that  the  specific  name  is  very  appropriate. 
L.  pubescens  does  not  appear  to  be  of  very  vigorous  growth,  but 
one  must  hope  that  it  may  become  thoroughly  established  here. 
Other  flowers  are  brilliant  or  chastely  beautiful  in  border  or  in 
the  rock  garden.  By  the  pool  the  Buck  or  Bog  Bean,  Menyanthus 
trifoliata,  is  pleasing  with  its  fringed,  sweet-scented  blossoms.  On 
its  margin  the  Sikkim  Cowslip,  Primula  sikkimensis,  hangs  its 
pretty  yellow  flowers  from  the  top  of  the  tall  stems.  The  Marsh 
Marigolds  are  nearly  over,  but  the  Irises  are  in  bloom,  and  the 
picturesque  -  looking  Rodgersia  podophylla  is  also  in  flower. 
Saxifrages  are  still  blooming  away  on  the  rockeries,  their  pretty 
flowers  making  the  bright  blooms  of  some  of  the  Dianthi,  such  as 
D.  neglectus  and  D.  alpinus,  appear  even  brighter  than  they  are. 
Lychnises  are  bright  too,  and  among  the  yellow  flowers  none 
please  more  than  Onosma  taurica,  the  Golden  Drop.  The  creamy 
white  variety  of  Thalictrum  aquilegifolium  looks  graceful  and 
attractive  beside  a  great  scarlet  Eastern  Poppy — a  seedling  I  have 
named  “  Guardsman  ”  from  its  fine  colour  and  tall  erect  habit. 
There  are  many  others  beautiful  in  flower,  in  foliage,  or  in  both, 
which  seek  to  claim  our  admiration  as  we  pass  them  by.  Lost  in 
the  garden’s  pleasures,  we  must  not  forget  that  it  has  its  work  too, 
and  that,  pleasant  as  it  is  to  tell  of  its  beauties,  the  pen  must  be 
relinquished  for  a  time  while  the  wants  of  the  flowers  are  attended 
to.  So  we  bid  the  reader  au  revoir. — S.  Arnott. 
Palms  in  Russia. — In  the  Winter  Palace  at  St.  Petersburg  is  the 
Nicholas  Salon,  which  is  decorated  with  seventy-two  Palms,  averaging 
from  25  to  30  feet  high.  These  stand  in  six  rows  of  twelve  plants  each, 
and  around  each  plant-tub  is  constructed  a  table  at  which  ten  persons 
can  be  comfortably  seated  at  dinner.  The  Palms  stand  so  far  apart  that 
their  spreading  tops  do  not  touch,  and  the  outline  of  each  can  be  seen  to 
advantage.  The  skill  of  the  Court  gardener  is  shown  in  the  fact  that 
these  tubs  are  only  30  inches  in  diameter,  and  they  cannot  be  enlarged, 
owing  to  the  limited  size  of  the  table.  As  the  Palms  remain  in  the 
palace  from  January  until  May,  they  lose  seven  or  eight  leaves  every  year, 
which  must  be  replaced  by  as  many  new  ones  before  the  following 
January.  To  bring  about  this  growth  the  plants  are  turned  out  of  the 
tubs  as  soon  as  they  are  taken  from  the  palace,  the  roots  are  severely 
shortened  with  an  axe,  and  the  ball  is  re-tubbed  in  turfy  loam,  fertilised 
with  bonemeal.  and  the  Palms  are  then  placed  on  a  warm  bed  in  the 
Palm  house.  Here  they  remain  until  their  new  leaves  are  developed, 
and  at  the  New  Year  they  are  transported  to  the  palace,  well  packed  in 
thick  coverlets  as  they  are  carried  through  a  temperature  which  some¬ 
times  falls  to  40°  below  zero. — (“  Garden  and  Forest.”) 
