451 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
November  14, 1895. 
leave  their  mark  behind  by  adopting  a  system  of  massing  in 
planting  which  will  alw’ays  be  more  striking  and  satisfactory  in 
every  wby  than  the  indiscriminate  mixtures  of  shruhs  one  often 
meets  w'lth.  In  villa  gardens  and  others  of  very  limited  extent 
there  may  be  some  excuse  for  adopting  this  mixed  method  of 
planting,  as  the  occupiers  seem  to  prefer  great  variety,  but  in 
gardens  of  magnitude  there  is  abundance  of  room  to  secure  variety 
without  sacrificing  boldness  in  effect.  A  mistake  too  often  made 
is  to  plant  Laurels  in  masses  in  too  many  parts  of  the  grounds  till 
the  shrubberies  appear  nothing  more  than  masses  of  them.  This 
is  carrying  the  principle  a  little  too  far  for  even  our  largest 
pleasure  grounds.  How  much  better  it  is  to  clothe  a  bank  here 
with  Aucuba  japonica,  an  adjoining  one  with  Berberis  Darwini, 
another  with  Berberis  aquifolium  ;  that  large  space,  which  is  rather 
shaded  with  tall  grown  deciduous  trees,  with  Box.  Then  give  a 
background  of  Rhododendrons  to  that  fine  sweep  of  lawn,  and  on 
that  steep  dry  sunny  bank  let  masses  of  Broom  find  a  congenial 
home.  When  these  masses  meet  let  a  few  standard  flowering  trees 
be  planted,  always  allowing  wide  open  spaces  to  separate  such  dot 
plants,  otherwise  the  effect  will  in  time  be  wanting  in  breadth  and 
boldness.  To  give  the  necessary  amount  of  brightness,  masses  of 
dwarf  flowering  shrubs,  or  variegated  trees  and  shrubs,  could  be 
judiciously  disposed,  so  as  not  to  occur  too  frequently,  but  be 
massed  in  sufficient  quantities  to  give  a  great  feature  at  the  various 
seasons  when  each  in  turn  are  in  full  beauty. 
At  the  present  time,  when  so  much  planting  is  being  done,  these 
few  notes  may  perhaps  supply  ideas  which  will  help  some  young 
planters  to.  carry  out  successfully  any  alterations  they  may  have  in 
hand,  and  prompt  them  to  erect  effects  which  will  be  viewed  with 
pleasure  and  admiration  by  future  generations. — Cedrus. 
FLORAL  FACTS  AND  FANCIES.— 14. 
Wp.iTiNa  about  his  early  life,  Charles  Darwin  remarks  that  he 
remembers  telling  another  little  boy  that  he  could  produce 
variously  coloured  Primroses  and  Polyanthuses  by  watering  the 
plants  with  certain  coloured  fluids.  He  adds,  “  Of  course  this  was 
a  monstrous  fable,  for  it  had  never  been  tried  by  me.”  He  was 
probably  not  aware  that  as  far  back  as  1707,  Bishop  Fleetwood,  in 
his  “  Curiosities  of  Nature  and  Art  in  Husbandry  and  Gardening,” 
had  described  a  method  of  achieving  this  very  thing.  It  was  only 
to  be  tried,  however,  when  the  stems  and  branches  of  a  plant  were 
strong  ;  if  so,  it  was  to  be  pierced  to  the  pith,  and  into  the  aperture 
tha  colour  wished  for  in  the  flower  was  to  be  worked,  the  hole 
being  filled  up  with  cow  manure  or  clay. 
He  also  states  that  the  effect  lasts  but  one  year.  Did  the 
worthy  Bishop  really  succeed  in  this  ?  The  idea  of  a  modern 
American,  Mr.  Cockerell,  is  that  colours  may  be  altered  by  water¬ 
ing  with  different  chemicals.  Thus  he  found  cyanide  of  potassium 
changed  the  pink  flowers  of  Monarda  fistuloia  first  to  greenish 
blue,  then  to  pale  yellow  ;  a  purplish-red  Verbena  turned  yellow 
also  ;  and  the  scarlet  of  some  flowers  became  pink.  Gardeners  are, 
of  course,  accustomed  to  notice  changes  of  a  less  speedy  kind, 
produced  on  plants  by  cultivation  and  the  use  of  various 
manures.  It  has  been  one  of  the  floral  fancies  which  some  have 
discussed,  whether  modifications  of  colour  in  wild  flowers  afford  an 
indication  of  the  soil  or  subsoil  on  which  they  occur.  Several 
curious  instances  are  given  where  that  seems  to  be  the  fact,  such 
as  the  occurrence  of  the  rose-tinted  variety  of  the  Lily  of  the 
Valley  in  the  West  of  England  only  on  old  red  sandstone.  Also 
an  observer,  who  was  noticing  the  various  shades  of  colour  in  the 
common  Anemone  (A.  pulsatilla) — white,  purple,  bluish,  and 
pink — found  those  of  the  last  tint  chiefly  on  greensand  ;  then 
chalk  has  been  thought  to  favour  the  development  of  blue  or  white 
flowers.  Again,  the  garden  Hydrangea  has  been  given  as  an 
instance  where  curious  variations  of  colour  occur,  connected 
perhaps  with  the  agency  of  iron  salts  in  the  soil  ;  and  other  cases 
may  be  noticed  amongst  cultivated  or  wild  plants.  Difference  of 
soil,  however,  will  not  account  tor  the  singular  Hydrangeas 
peculiar  to  the  Channel  Islands  and  parts  of  France,  7  or  8  feet 
high,  having  huge  ffiads  of  bloom,  consisting  of  sterile  florets.  An 
idea  that  this  plant  was  fond  of  cold  as  well  as  of  moisture  led  to 
its  being  taken  to  represent  “  coolness  ”  or  “  heartlessness  ”  in 
flower  language.  But,  after  all,  the  connection  between  soil  and 
colour  is  a  doubtful  one,  since  plants  of  the  same  species  growing 
close  together  display  often  such  strong  contrasts  in  colour. 
Amongst  the  plants  occasionally  cultivated  in  the  flower  garden 
are  several  that  were  conspicuous  in  the  herb  gardens  of  our 
ancestors,  such  as  the  Salvias,  which  received  the  name  because  of 
their  healing  qualities,  though  little  esteemed  now.  Our  bee¬ 
keepers  might  encourage  the  culture  of  these  plants,  since  few 
offer  more  attractions  to  hive  bees,  and  indeed  to  every  species 
of  the  tribe,  especially  S.  nemoralis,  with  its  succession  of  small 
purplish  flowers.  Others  have  blue  tints,  such  as  the  showy 
S.  patens,  of  deep  colour,  which  is  a  symbol  of  “  sagacity,”  while 
the  crimson,  autumn-blooming,  S.  splendens  represents  “  energy,” 
and  various  colours,  with  no  particular  meaning  to  them  occur 
amongst  the  hundreds  of  species  in  the  genus,  some  of  which 
wintered  in  a  frame,  and  planted  out  during  May,  exhibit  such 
handsome  heads.  To  several  of  these  Salvias  the  name  of  Clary 
was  given  by  our  ancestors,  or  rather  “clear  eye,”  the  boiled 
mucilaginous  seeds  being  applied  to  that  organ  when  the  sight  was 
weak.  The  Elizabethan  gardeners  thought  they  had  got  a  prize 
from  Italy  when  they  obtained  S.  Schlarea  in  1562,  which  was 
deemed  far  superior  in  virtue  to  any  native  Clary,  and  used 
for  divers  purposes  ;  though  the  odour  is  not  exactly  agreeable,  it 
is  seldom  grown  now. 
But  the  fragrant  Thyme,  emblem  of  “courage,”  allied  to  the 
preceding,  keeps  up  its  popularity,  for  several  Alpine  and  Pyrenean 
species,  some  of  which  have  golden  or  silvery  foliage,  are  effective 
in  beds  and  along  borders.  The  Greeks  and  Romans  so  loved  its 
odour  that  the  highest  praise  they  could  give  to  a  work  of  art  was 
to  say  it  was  as  delightful  as  a  bed  of  Thyme  ;  they  are  supposed 
to  have  associated  the  plant  with  activity,  perhaps  from  the  busy 
movement  of  insects  frequenting  its  flowers.  Old-fashioned  gardens 
sometimes  displayed  the  Balm,  a  showy  labiate  with  purplish 
flowers  (Melissa  officinalis),  brought  from  France  in  1572,  presumed 
to  be  in  itself  a  balmy  plant,  and  taken  to  be  a  figure  of 
“  sympathy.” 
One  or  other  of  the  Basils  would  be  occasionally  its  companion, 
species  employed  as  culinary  aromatics,  yet  not  plants  of  good 
repute,  since  they  told  of  “hatred”  and  “poverty”  too,  for  a 
representation  of  the  latter  was  to  be  seen,  showing  a  female  form 
garbed  in  rags  seated  beside  some  Basils.  More  ominous  still,  the 
name  is  part  of  that  belonging  to  the  mysterious  basilisk  king  of 
serpents,  which  had  the  power,  'twas  believed,  of  blighting  the 
herbage  with  its  breath.  ISome  have  tried  to  explain  this  by 
the  supposition  that  in  the  East,  where  the  Basil  was  not  un¬ 
commonly  planted  on  graves,  superstitious  by-passers  at  night 
mistook  the  crimson  flowers  of  the  plant  for  the  fierce  eyes  of  the 
imagined  reptile.  We  may  note  here  that  the  family  of  the  Mints, 
other  labiates  of  importance,  are  typical  of  “  virtue.” 
“  Steep  in  the  wine  cup  the  Borage  I  sent  thee, 
Drown  all  thy  sorrows  and  jealousies  there,’’ 
was  the  counsel  said  to  have  been  given  to  the  fair  Helen  of  old 
by  one  of  her  friends  ;  “  Herb  of  Gladness,”  the  ancients  called  it, 
a  soother  of  sorrows,  though  in  flower  language  it  is  a  type  of 
“abruptness.”  This,  at  least,  is  certain  that  the  bluish,  white- 
centred  flowers  have  for  many  centuries  been  infused  in  wine  and 
other  beverages,  even  yet  there  are  places  where  Borage  is  mixed 
in  the  “  cool  tankard  ”  so  named,  but  the  flowers  impart  warmth 
not  coldness,  or  otherwise  Borage  could  hardly  be  a  giver  of 
courage,  for  such  was  its  repute  in  England.  One  of  our  poets 
indulges  in  a  lament,  that  a  plant  of  such  value  should  have  been 
dismissed  most  gardens,  and  left  to  take  its  chance  by  the  wayside. 
There,  too,  its  companion  is  now,  and  then  the  Viper’s  Bugloss 
(Echium  vulgare)  often  on  the  chalk,  which,  with  some  kindred 
species,  illustrates  the  old  doctrine  of  signatures.  Their  spotted 
stems  showed  they  were  good  against  the  bites  of  vipers — nay,  even 
the  sight  of  one  of  the  plants  would  scare  reptiles  away  !  Yet,  from 
its  association  with  snakes,  a  Bugloss  was  a  type  of  craft  or 
duplicity,  and  this  name,  from  Greek,  meaning  an  ox’s  tongue,  was 
suggested  by  the  rough  foliage.  Loudon  thought  the  Viper’s 
Bugloss  the  handsomest  of  our  native  flowers,  and  certainly  the 
long  clusters  of  purple  and  pink  belis  justified  its  introduction  to 
gardens  where  exotics  were  scarce. 
Allied  to  these  are  the  Lithospermums  or  Gromwells,  two  or 
three  species  of  which  are  capital  plants  for  edging  and  rockwork. 
When  the  rich  blue  flowers  have  died  off,  and  the  leaves  are  gone, 
the  seeds  will  still  cling  to  the  branches,  looking  like  tiny  pearls. 
Their  stony  hardness  originated  the  Latin  name,  and  that  of  Grom- 
well,  which  has  various  forms  (Philip  Miller  oddly  writes  it 
“  Graymill  ”),  but  comes  evidently  from  two  Celtic  words  referring 
to  the  seeds. 
The  late  flowering  Sneezeweeds  or  Heleniums,  which  linger  on 
to  join  the  Chrysanthemums,  with  blooms  like  little  suns,  are 
supposed  to  have  sprung  from  her  tears,  though  some  suggest  that 
Helen  made  a  cosmetic  from  the  juice  of  one  species.  The  freaks 
of  fancy  are  illustrated  by  the  name  of  Love-lies-bleeding,  given 
to  Amaranthus  caudatus,  with  its  drooping  clusters,  said  to  mean 
“hopeless  not  heartless,”  and  by  the  popular  appellations  given  to 
theNigellas,  which  one  seldom  sees  in  gardens.  Owing  to  the  furzy 
growth  around  the  flowers,  one  of  these  has  been  called  “Love 
in  a  Mist,”  and  another  is  “  The  Devil  in  a  Bush.” — J.  R.  S.  C. 
