320 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
October  3,  1896. 
HARDY  FLOWER  NOTES. 
Signs  of  the  coming  of  winter  multiply,  and  the  garden  begins 
to  show  by  yellowing  leaf  and  fading  flower  that  soon  the  flowers 
in  which  we  delight  shall  be  few  and  far  between.  Cool  breezes 
are  blowing,  and  the  sun  smiles  more  faintly  on  the  garden  and 
its  inmates.  Possibly  even  before  this  is  in  type  the  frost  spirit 
may  have  passed  over  us  and  touched  with  death-giving  breath 
these  bright  forms  we  love.  Thus  even  our  present  enjoyment  is 
mingled  with  dread,  for  we  see,  as  it  were,  the  shadow  of  the  pall 
which  is  to  be  cast  over  the  garden's  life,  and  to  leave  us  comparatively 
forlorn  for  a  time.  It  is,  however,  neither  wise  nor  profitable  to 
allow  these  thoughts  to  dominate  our  minds,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
present  as  displayed  in  our  gardens  will  furnish  us  with  food  for 
more  cheerful  thoughts. 
The  flower  of  the  season  in  many  gardens  is  the  Dahlia,  and  in 
its  several  forms  it  is  calculated  to  attract  the  admiration  of  most 
of  the  admirers  of  Flora’s  subjects.  To  the  many-coloured  globular- 
shaped  blooms  of  the  show  and  fancy  and  Pompon  Dahlias,  the 
showy  Cactus  and  decorative  varieties  form  a  pleasing  variety, 
in  which  the  single  forms  usefully  join.  Annuals,  too,  in  many 
kinds  and  of  many  forms  and  colours  supply  pleasing  fare  for  our 
refreshment  and  delight.  Then  the  Michaelmas  Daisies  in  charming 
hues  present  much  variety,  some  forming  pyramids  in  which  the 
graceful  foliage  is  mingled  with  the  delicate  or  bright-hued  flowers, 
others  forming  dwarf  bushes  of  spreading  habit,  and  with  many 
tiny  starry  flowers  ;  while  others,  again,  seem  as  if  they  had 
resolved  to  outshine  all  their  sisters  by  covering  themselves  so 
freely  with  bloom  as  to  form  a  gigantic  bouquet  of  lilac  and  gold. 
Sunflowers  find  the  orb  they  worship  still  giving  enough  of 
encouragement  to  induce  them  to  open  their  golden-rayed  blossoms. 
Autumn  Roses,  unusually  plentiful  and  unusually  fine  here  this 
year,  charm  us  with  their  colour  and  contour  now  that  their 
rivals,  the  Lilies,  have  nearly  gone  for  the  season.  Jackman’s 
Clematis  still  mingles  some  of  its  fine  purple  blooms  with  the 
greenish  gold  of  the  climbing  Hop  on  the  house,  and  its  progenitor 
in  part,  C.  viticella,  looks  dowdy  and  dull  beside  its  brighter 
offspring.  C.  flammula  on  the  Hawthorn  arch  is  now  covered  with 
its  fleecy  heads,  save  where  a  few  late  blooms  still  show  their 
white  stars.  Violas  are  unwilling  to  cease  yielding  us  their  pretty 
flowers,  and,  sooth  to  say,  we  weary  not  to  see  them  depart,  so 
bright  and  so  cheery  are  their  blooms.  Gladioli  stand  still  with 
stately  mien  and  grand  colours  among  the  other  plants,  and  some 
Montbretias  yet  tell  of  the  wealth  of  colour  their  advent  has 
brought  to  our  beds  and  borders.  Rudbeckias,  with  dark  centre 
and  rich  yellow  rays,  rival  the  Sunflower  in  lighting  up  the  borders, 
and  white  Japan  Anemones  give  us  that  purity  of  colour  so  much 
appreciated  in  every  garden. 
The  succession  of  Colchicums  is  long  maintained,  and  has  not 
yet  come  to  an  end,  while  the  Croci,  their  more  refined  relatives,  in 
form  at  least,  but  not  in  scientific  classification,  which  entered  on 
the  race  some  weeks  ago,  charm  us  with  their  delicate  beauty,  and 
will  continue  to  do  so  for  a  while  to  come  should  inclement 
weather  keep  away.  The  rockeries,  despite  the  advanced  season, 
still  give  us  something  to  linger  over  with  pleasure.  That 
plant  of  Hypericum  reptans,  which  in  a  cosy  corner  facing  soath- 
west  has  bloomed  for  long,  is  still  fine  with  its  light  green  carpet  of 
leaves  and  its  pretty  yellow  flowers.  Potentilla  alchemilloides, 
which,  after  blooming  a  long  time,  took  a  rest  for  a  month  or  so, 
has  again  made  an  effort  to  please  us  with  its  white  Anemone-like 
flowers.  Geranium  lancastriense,  which  usually  rests  also  for  a 
time,  is  resolved  not  to  be  outdone,  and  is  once  more  opening  its 
pale  pink  flowers  with  purple  veins.  Cyclamens  droop  their  white, 
or  purple,  or  varied  blooms  in  shady  corners.  Linarias,  with 
spurred  flowers,  are  still  in  flower.  That  shy  flowering  plant, 
Wulfenia  carinthiaca,  which  only  deigns  to  flower  with  me  at 
times,  has  for  the  second  time  this  year  sent  up  a  spike. 
Plumbago  Larpentse,  on  a  warm  and  dry  rockery  where  it 
grows  fast,  is  in  flower,  and  has  thus  for  some  years,  although 
it  occasionally  fails  me,  proved  more  suitable  for  this  garden  than 
the  Californian  Ziuschneria.  A  fine  bush  of  the  white  Cornish 
Heath,  Erica  vagans  alba,  surmounts  a  dry  rockery,  where  it  looks 
well  nestling  at  one  side  close  to  a  large  piece  of  fossil  coral  from  a 
reef  on  the  shore.  This  block  has  become  mossy  and  weather¬ 
beaten  looking,  and  a  Sempervivum  on  the  top,  with  a  bit  of  wild 
Thyme  running  up  a  crack  in  the  front,  make  it  pretty  and  quite 
in  keeping  with  the  fine  Heath  now  profusely  in  flower.  Then 
there  are  still  some  Alpine  Pinks,  Linum  flavum,  Geums, 
Potentillas,  Campanulas,  and  other  plants  more  numerous  than  one 
would  think,  all  trying  to  add  their  quota  to  the  sum  of  pleasure. 
The  largest  of  all  the  Colchicums  is,  I  think,  one  known  as 
C.  Bornmulleri,  which  I  bloomed  for  the  first  time  last  year,  but 
only  mentioned  briefly,  not  having  had  it  long  enough  to  be  able 
to  say  much  about  it.  It  stood  the  test  of  last  winter  and  came 
into  flower  about  the  beginning  of  September,  and  has  produced 
several  flowers  in  succession  from  the  same  bulb.  On  first  opening 
it  is  almost  white,  with  a  little  pink  appearing  here  and  there. 
This  spreads  and  gradually  suffuses  nearly  the  whole  flower 
until,  when  fully  open,  this  Meadow  Saffron  has  become  a  deep 
pink  and  white  flower,  with  perhaps  that  tinge  of  purple  in  the 
colouring  which  is  the  fault  of  the  most  of  the  Colchicums.  The 
flower  is  a  little  larger  than  the  best  of  the  varieties  of 
C.  speciosum,  and  has  a  yellowish  tube.  The  leaves  come  in  spring 
and  are  very  large  and  handsome.  The  Colchicums  all  like  a 
stronger  soil  than  I  have  at  command,  so  that  the  blooms  here  are 
generally  smaller  than  where  grown  in  a  rather  retentive  compost. 
I  have  now  a  fair  collection  of  the  Meadow  Saffrons,  which  gives 
me  much  pleasure  and  satisfaction.  Among  some  bulbs  which 
came  from  Mr.  Whittall  of  Smyrna  in  1895  were  those  of  a 
pretty  little  Colchicum,  which  resembles  a  small  C.  autumnale. 
The  first  Crocus  to  flower  with  me  this  autumn  has  been  the 
exquisite  C.  pulchellus,  from  the  Bithynian  Olympus,  of  which  I 
spoke  a  year  or  so  ago.  It  has  been  well  named  pulchellus,  so 
delightful  are  its  pearl  blue  flowers.  It  is  doing  well  here,  and 
seeding  well  for  the  last  two  years,  so  that  I  hope  in  time  to  have 
some  fine  masses  of  this  species.  I  think,  however,  that  C.  iridi- 
florus,  which  just  followed  it,  carries  off  the  palm  in  the  estimation 
of  my  garden  visitors.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  species,  with  its  rich 
purple  and  lilac  fiowers,  which  in  form  are  unique  among  Crocuses, 
their  outer  segments  being  much  larger  than  the  inner  ones. 
There  are  a  considerable  number  of  these  autumn  and  winter 
flowering  Croci,  and,  unfortunately,  they  are  not  nearly  well  enough 
known.  Were  they  known  a  demand  would  spring  up,  and  they 
would  soon  become  much  cheaper,  so  that  they  could  be  planted  in 
generous  masses,  as  can  be  done  with  the  Dutch  spring-flowering 
varieties,  to  the  enrichment  of  our  gardens  and  to  our  great 
enjoyment. 
It  is  a  great  leap  from  the  Meadow  Saffron  and  the  Crocus  to 
the  Sunflower,  but  one  should  like  to  say  something  about  Miss 
Mellish’s  Sunflower,  Helianthus  rigidus  Miss  Mellish.  Harpalium 
rigidum  has  been  superseded,  but  the  old  name  dies  hard,  and  was 
rather  useful  as  applied  to  a  type  of  Sunflower,  well  known  as 
Harpalium.  In  recent  notes  I  preferred  to  say  little  about  this 
fine  variety  until  I  had  seen  it  in  bloom  in  my  own  garden,  so  that 
its  effect  as  a  garden  plant  could  be  realised  in  comparison  with 
others.  It  is  in  bloom  as  I  write,  and  even  surpasses  my  expecta¬ 
tions,  as  it  is  so  fine  and  effective  in  every  way.  It  is  in  every 
way  worthy  of  the  recognition  it  received  at  the  hands  of  the 
Royal  Horticultural  Society.  I  was  under  the  impression  that  it 
had  been  raised  at  Hodsock  Priory.  It  was,  however,  found  by 
Mr.  Joseph  Mallender,  who  is  gardener  there,  in  a  clergyman’s 
garden,  and  sent  by  him  to  Chiswick  for  trial.  Mr.  Mallender  is 
to  be  congratulated  on  his  discernment,  which  is  only  to  be 
expected  from  one  who  grows  so  many  hardy  flowers  as  he  has 
under  his  charge,  and  who  takes  so  much  interest  in  them. 
We  are  all  familiar  with  the  words  “  to  err  is  human,”  although 
too  often  we  seem  to  consider  that  the  remainder  of  the  sentence 
applies  to  others  than  ourselves.  One  cannot  be  long  among 
flowers  without  recognising  how  easy  it  is  to  fall  into  error  in 
speaking  or  writing  of  them,  and  it  is  doubly  the  duty  of  those  who 
write  of  flowers  to  endeavour  to  steer  clear  of  mistakes,  which  are 
more  easily  made  than  rectified.  When  we  do  fall  into  error  this 
way,  it  is  only  right  that  we  should  try  to  correct  it  when  satisfied 
that  a  mistake  has  been  made.  I  am  thus  only  too  glad  when  any 
of  my  correspondents  inform  me  of  an  error  I  have  made,  and  the 
R6v.  C.  Wolley-Dod,  with  that  kindness  which  I  have  always 
found  so  characteristic  of  him,  called  my  attention  recently  to 
what  I  said  of  Agrostemma  (now  Lychnis)  Walkeri  or  hybrida. 
I  made  a  remark  to  the  effect  that  it  had  no  appearance  of  being  a 
hybrid.  Mr.  Wolley-Dod  informs  me  that  it  is  really  one,  and 
that  the  parentage  is  Lychnis  flos-Jovis  X  L.  coronaria,  and  that 
the  particular  stock  came  in  the  garden  of  Mr.  Alfred  Walker  of 
Chester,  and  was  distributed  by  Messrs.  Dicksons  of  that  city.  It 
appeared,  however,  that  the  plants  I  had  seen,  and  which  came 
from  the  same  source  as  mine  (not  Messrs.  Dicksons,  it  is  only 
fair  to  say),  were  not  this  hybrid  at  all,  but  only  a  fine  form  of 
L  coronaria,  so  that  it  was  no  wonder  I  could  see  no  trace  of 
hybrid  origin.  I  have  since  seen  a  plant  of  the  true  L.  Walkeri, 
and  there  appears  in  it  to  be  evidence  of  the  influence  of  L.  flos- 
Jovis.  The  Rev.  C.  Wolley-Dod  tells  me  that  “its  chief  merit  is 
its  very  long  flowering  period.”  He  also  says  that  it  does  not 
produce  many  seeds,  and  that  the  seedlings  generally  revert  to  one 
of  the  parents.  The  true  L.  Walkeri  is  lighter  in  colour  than  the 
spurious  one,  but  is  still  of  a  deep  enough  shade  to  satisfy  anyone. 
I  had  intended  speaking  of  some  of  the  Michaelmas  Daisies, 
but  have  already  exceeded  the  space  at  disposal.  They  are  so 
beautiful  that  a  few  lines  could  not  do  justice  to  their  merits. 
— S.  Arnott. 
