170 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
February  24,  1898. 
LAWNS  AND  ALLIED  SUBJECTS. 
Tins  conimoD,  homely  subject,  lately  broached  by  a  brief  article 
in  these  pages,  plays  so  important  a  part  in  all  phases  of  picturesque 
or  ornamental  gardening  that  a  fairly  comprehensive  survey  of  it  may 
not  be  inopportune  at  this  particular  season ;  hence  it  is  proposed,  in 
the  first  instance,  to  study  the  ethics  of  lawn  formation  from  a 
picturesque  point  of  view — which,  happily,  are  also  conducive  to  good 
management  and  keeping — and  then  to  follow  up  the  various  details  on 
the  lines  of  sound  construction,  which  are  not  only  capable  of  making 
our  lawns  features  of  beauty  from  their  creation,  but  in  their 
permanency.  One  thing  is  worthy  of  consideration  at  the  start — vin,, 
that  as  we  are  unable  to  evade  the  fact  that  the  labour  of  keeping  our 
lawns  as  they  should  be  kept  is  no  despisable  figure  in  the  annual  bill 
of  a  garden’s  expenses,  such  should  not  be  left  out  of  our  preliminary 
calculations,  and  I  hope  to  show  that  at  a  minimum  expense  of  labour 
the  maximum  of  satisfaction  is  obtained,  [irovided  that  torethought 
gives  due  consideration  to  these  matters. 
To  view  this  subject  as  it  should  be  viewed,  or  what  may  be 
termed  the  most  important  parts  of  it,  we  must  for  the  nonce  glance 
at  it  from  the  windows  of  what  may  range  from  the  stately  home  to 
the  jiicturesque  villa,  and  in  doing  so  the ’operations  of  the  indisjiens- 
able  lawn  mower  can  hardly  fail  to  be  regarded  as  a  necessary  evil. 
I  have,  indeed,  heard  stronger  language  used  which,  wlien  toned 
down,  admits  of  no  other  interpretation  than  that  of  the  constant 
mowing  being  an  intolerable  nuisance ;  for  there  are  places  where, 
from  such  time  the  “  noiseless  ”  (?)  one  commences  operations  with 
the  cuckoo  until  it  ceases  with  the  flitting  of  the  swallows,  it  is  so 
persistently  in  evidence  that  one  may  readily  endorse,  if  not  the 
remark,  the  feeling  which  prompted  it.  This  should  not  be;  no 
more,  in  fact,  than  that  in  our  domestic  arrangements  the  jswteping 
and  garnishing  could  be  tolerated  from  early  morn  till  dewy  eve.  I 
may  here  digress  by  remarking  that  few  gardeners,  possibly,  know 
better  than  the  writer  the  difficulties  to  be  met  in  this  respect,  to 
illustrate  which  1  may  mention  one  particular  place  where  the 
whirring  wheels  dared  not  be  heard  before  breakfast  time,  9  A.M.,  or 
after  luncheon  at  2  p.m.,  and  after  the  latter  hour  all  workmen  on  the 
Italian  garden  had  to  be  conspicuous  by  their  absence. 
Interdicts  similar  to  the  above  applying  to  a  large  extent  of  ground 
are  not  matters  to  be  lightly  regarded  where  high  keeping  is  a  sine 
(/ud  non;  but,  upon  reflection,  the  principle  is  right.  Aprojwsoi  this, 
I  occasionally  through  the  summer  visit  one  of  our  best  kept  public 
gardens,  and  at  whatever  hour  of  the  day  or  day  of  the  week  such 
happens,  one  never  is  able  to  view  the  charming  central  lawn  in  all  its 
pristine  beauty,  for  mowing  in  some  shajje  or  form  appears  to  be 
always  in  evidence — the  season  through  the  operation  is  never  finished. 
Whether  in  this  case  it  is  unavoidable,  I  know  not;  but  in  private 
places  it,  to  me  at  least,  seriously  detracts  from  the  enjoyment  of  this 
grand  feature  of  our  gardens.  Yet,  on  the  larger  scale,  where  high 
art  in  the  garden  is  exemplified  in  the  Italian  style,  the  evil,  if  evil  it 
bo,  is  probably  least  in  evidence,  for  we  have  here  a  boldness  of  design 
which  includes  open  stretches  of  lawn  so  disposed  as  to  facilitate  the 
work  of  mowing  which  does  not  always  obtain  wuth  a  totally  different 
arrangement  of  the  grounds. 
This  brings  us  to  what,  I  think,  is  worthy  of  attention,  being,  too, 
of  more  frefjuent  occurrence,  embracing  as  it  does  the  very  large 
section  of  what  may  be  termed  the  picturesque  in  contradistinction  to 
the  purely  classic,  w'hich  admits  of  few  liberties  being  taken  with 
it.  Needless  to  say,  no  hard-and-fast  lines  can  be  laid  down,  for  there 
is  not,  I  suppose,  a  single  instance  where  local  circumstances  do  not 
sufficiently  assert  their  individuality  to  warrant  the  assumption  that  a 
special  study  of  character  is  alone  able  to  give  the  best  results.  I 
cannot  but  regard  our  subject  as  one  inseparably  bound  up  with 
landscape  gardening.  Is  it  not,  indeed,  the  very  folio  upon  which  its 
best  characters  are  traced  ?  Hence,  perhaps,  no  apology  is  needed  for 
enlarging  so  much  upon  the  text. 
In  the  picturesque  treatment  (not  classic)  of  grounds  in  contiguity 
to  the  residence  so  many  temptations  occur  for  breaking  up  the  more 
important  portions  of  the  greensward  by  various  jihases  of  planting  as 
well  as  by  a  redundancy  of  walks,  that,  although  not  always  courting 
condemnation  from  a  picturesque  point  of  view,  it  militates  more  or  less 
seriously  against  good  management  of  the  greensward,  including  the 
quick  and  effective  performance  of  periodic  mowing,  consequently  the 
scenic  effect  is  correspondingly  stultified.  This,  of  course,  chiefly 
from  the  labour  side  of  the  question ;  but  there  is  a  broader  and,  I 
think,  higher  view  that  insists  itself  upon  our  notice  in  spite  of  that 
variety  which  may,  or  may  not,  be  charming,  for  the  taste  is  question¬ 
able  which  prompts  the  planter  to  bring  as  many  beds  as  he  can  carve 
out,  or  as  many  trees  as  he  can  conveniently  dot  down  within  sight  of 
tlie  windows.  Much  quiet  beauty  is  thus  sacrificed.  I  have  heard  it 
remarked  that  the  flower  beds  do  so  much  for  the  lawn ;  to  me,  at  least, 
it  appears  to  be  vice  versa — that  the  lawn  is  able  to  do  so  much 
complementary  work  that  too  much,  far  too  much,  is  literally  put 
upon  it. 
To  trace  effect  to  cause  in  so  far  as  relates  to  the  breaking  up 
by  planting  or  other  means  of  many  a  charming  lawn-frontage  to  a 
picturesque  residence,  the  term  may  be  admitted  in  con'radistinction  to 
classical  outlines  which  need  no  longer  detain.  We  may  go  back  to  the 
earlier  days  of  the  bedding  craze,  and  also  include  the  introduction  of 
various  Coni  ferae  which  claimed  a  great  share  of  attention  ;  so  much 
so,  in  fact,  that  whilst  the  former  inculcated  much  carving  out  and 
cutting  up  of  the  lawn,  there  seemed  an  inordinate  desire  to  dot  hie  et 
uhi(jue  a  Wellingtonia,  a  Picea,  a  Pinus,  or  what  not,  and  to  bring 
particular  specimens  into  prominence  by  placing  them  in  the  immediate 
foreground  —  in  view  of  the  windows.  Having  a  vivid  recollection  of 
how  to  spoil  a  lawn,  it  may,  although  roughly  sketched  from  memory . 
(fig.  25),  serve  to  illustrate  this.  It  is  representative  of  the  south 
front  of  an  old  ’I’udor  residence  bounded  on  the  north  by  a  public  road. 
It  delineates  what  is  still  frequently  to  be  seen.  A  replica  of  the 
outline  is  also  given  (fig.  26),  which  cleared  consistently,  not  ruth¬ 
lessly,  gives  a  bold  sweep  satisfying  to  see,  easy  to  keep,  and  lending  a 
dignity  to  the  building  which  with  the  dot  and  carving  system  can 
never  obtain.  It  must  be  mentioned  that  fully  two-thirds  of  the  beds 
have  recently  been  turfed  over  to  the  general  benefit  of  all  concerned 
but  the  trees,  which  have  grown  apace  ;  the  liberty  of  sacrificing  them 
has  only  yet  been  done  on  paper,  as  shown,  but  sooner  or  later  the 
great  mistake  will  have  to  be  rectified,  and  it  has  long  been  under 
consideration. 
In  relation  to  keeping  alone,  it  is  obvious  how  much  unsatisfactory 
labour  is  entailed,  and  although  I  have  often  watched  the  agility 
displayed  both  by  the  man  who  controls  the  machine  and  the  boy  who 
controls  the  pony,  together  with  the  marvellous  manner  in  which  they 
conjointly  manoeuvre  in  and  out  and  round  about  to  snip  off  a  bit  here 
and  a  corner  there  in  their  anxiety  to  save  the  scythe,  not  to  speak  of 
wet  weather,  when  a  dozen  repeated  turns  at  particular  corners  leave 
greasy  patches,  one  cannot  regard  such  work  as  a  labour  of  love. — 
Sylva. 
(To  be  continued.) 
THE  FLOUISTS’  PHLOX. 
Graceful  and  effective  as  are  the  original  plants  from  which  our 
Phloxes  of  the  present  day  have  been  raised,  they  are  defective  when 
compared  with  their  descendants.  The  florist,  with  his  trained  and 
skilled  eye  and  expert  hand,  has  seized  upon  their  points  of  beauty, 
and  developed  them  almost  beyond  his  utmost  hopes.  Not  often  do  we 
see  the  old  tall  Phloxes,  once  the  delight  of  their  growers,  and  favourites 
with  artists  in  flowers ;  but  when  we  do  meet  with  them,  we  are  com¬ 
pelled  to  admit  their  inferiority  as  compared  with  those  of  more  recent 
origin. 
In  purity,  brightness,  or  depth  of  colour  ;  in  size,  form,  and  texture 
of  flowers ;  and  in  massiveness  of  spike,  the  modern  florists’  varieties 
rank  far  above  the  older  sorts  or  those  from  Nature’s  garden,  where  the 
law  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  discourages  flowers  less  well  adapted 
to  the  rough  conditions  under  which  they  grow.  In  our  gardens, 
however,  where  shelter  is  found,  together  with  suitable  soil,  and  a 
sufficient  but  not  superfluous  supply  of  moisture,  the  flowers  of  the 
most  advanced  types  not  only  grow,  but  afford  the  means  for  still 
further  improving  the  race. 
For  the  original  parents  of  our  modern  Phloxes  we  are  indebted  to 
North  America,  a  part  of  the  globe  which  has  given  us  many  of  our 
most  admired  garden  flowers.  For  the  florists’  Phlox  itself  we  owe 
gratitude  to  raisers  of  various  countries,  as  English,  Scottish,  and 
Continental  growers  have  all  contributed  their  share  of  the  work.  In 
the  early  days  of  its  improvement,  English  growers  took  a  leading 
part,  followed  hard  by  Continental  raisers,  and  then  by  Scotsmen,  who 
gave  us  many  good  varieties.  More  recently  the  Phloxes  which  have 
met  with  the  favour  of  the  Floral  Commiitee  of  the  Royal  Horticul¬ 
tural  Society  have  principally  been  of  French  origin. 
Several  of  these  varieties  have,  in  the  eye  of  the  writer,  the  defect 
of  too  flat  a  spike.  Their  great  merits  are  the  size  of  the  individual 
pips,  their  texture,  and  their  intense  colouring.  Some  of  the  scarlets 
are  of  the  most  vivid  colouring,  and  were  these  merits  combined  with 
the  symmetrical  sp'kes  of  some  of  the  older  ones,  there  would  be 
nothing  lacking.  A  marked  tendency  on  the  part  of  raisers  of  late  has 
been  to  reduce  the  height  of  the  plants,  and  in  some'flowers  this  has 
been  effected  wuthout  the  loss  of  other  points.  The  judging  code  of 
the  E.H.S.  gives  these,  and  they  may  be  thus  summarised : — Stem 
stout,  strong  and  erect ;  spikes  full  of  bloom,  dense,  and  of  symmetrical 
shape;  the  blooms  stout  in  texture,  flat,  and  quite  circular  in  form, 
with  clear,  decided  colours. 
The  colours  of  the  Phlox  are  most  varied.  There  are  whites  of 
