274 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
March  31,  1898, 
sure  of  realisation,  though  the  victory  of  spring  was  not  so  near  as 
the  cautious  writer  appears  to  have  thought. 
He  could  not  have  anticipated  the  violence  of  the  onslaught — let 
us  hope  a  last  despairing  effort  of  determined  winter  to  assert  its 
crushing  power — than  that  which  overswept  land  and  sea  on  Thursday 
night  last.  A  “  night  of  frost  and  storm”  it  surely  was,  followed  by 
a  day  of  “  gloom  and  snow  showers  ”  driving  with  bitter  and  relentless 
force  not  soon  to  be  forgotten.  No  one  during  the  flowery  days  of 
February  Was  bold  enough  to  predict  that  before  March  was  out 
trains  would  be  snowed  up  in  railway  cuttings,  and  country  roads 
rendered  impassable  for  a  time  by  drifting  snow ;  yet  such  was  the 
chilling  fact. 
The  25th  inst.,  when  the  almanack  spring  was  four  days  old,  was 
truly  described  in  one  of  the  newspapers  as  “  in  every  respect  worthy 
of  midwinter  in  its  most  dreary  aspects.”  Snow  fell  all  the  morning, 
the  north-easterly  wind  driving  it  and  the  subsequent  sleet  to  and  fro 
with  such  fierceness  that  some  of  the  hardy  ’bus  drivers  of  Loudon 
were  driven  in  turn  to  resort  to  the  feminine  protection  of  gauze  veils. 
At  no  time  did  the  thermometer  rise  more  than  4°  above  the  freezing 
point,  and  the  day  is  said  to  have  been  the  coldest  that  has  been 
experienced  in  March  since  1879. 
lleports  state  that  in  the  Thames  Valley  such  a  formidable 
blizzard  has  not  been  experienced  for  many  years,  and  that  much 
damage  was  done  to  the  trees  in  the  royal  parks  of  Bushy  and 
Eichmond,  while  in  Kew  Gardens  the  damage  sustained  is  said  to 
have  been  very  considerable.  From  Ashford,  in  Kent,  we  are 
informed  that  in  addition  to  the  snow  filling  the  roads  and  stopping 
traffic,  the  frost  was  of  such  severity  as  to  destroy  the  buds 
of  Apple,  Pear,  and  Cherry  trees  over  a  large  area  of  plantations, 
and  the  fruit  crops  must  consequently  be  a  complete  failure.  We 
hope  the  results  will  not  be  so  serious  as  are  at  present  feared,  and 
suspect  that,  generally  speaking,  sufficient  fruit  buds  will  be  found 
to  have  “  weathered  the  storm,”  but  the  crucial  time  for  fruit  blossom 
is  not  yet  over. 
That  March  is  a  month  of  “  many  weathers  ”  is  proverbial,  and 
seldom  can  there  have  been  greater  contrasts  than  have  recently  been 
experienced.  On  the  first  day  of  the  month  the  radiation 
temperature  in  the  sun  was  85‘6°,  and  on  the  third  day  87 '3°,  while 
on  the  16th  and  18th  it  exceeded  91° ;  on  the  20th  it  rose  to  92°,  and 
even  on  the  24th,  83  6° ;  but  on  the  very  next  day  we  were  plunged 
into  the  bitterest  winter  of  the  season,  a  fall  to  the  minimum 
shade  temperature  of  more  than  54".  Fortunately  low  night 
temperatures  had  prevailed  for  some  time  previously,  for  had 
the  spring-like  weather  of  February  continued  much  longer  the  effects 
of  the  recent  frosts  and  driving  ice  winds  on  fruit  trees  must  have 
been  disastrous.  The  cold  wave  that  cut  short  the  beauty  of  spring 
flowers  was  just  in  time  to  check  and  retard  the  too  precocious  blossom 
buds,  and  may  still  prove,  as  we  hope  it  will,  to  have  been  a  blessing 
in  disguise. 
In  one  respect,  and  an  important  one,  the  fall  of  snow  and  rain 
must  do  great  good  in  many  districts.  The  under  stratum  of  soil  was 
never  drier  at  the  season  of  the  year  than  it  is  now,  and  the  roots  of 
trees  in  many  orchards  and  gardens  can  only  be  reached  by  heavy 
and  continuous  rains.  If  these  do  not  come,  the  possible  danger  of 
loss  of  fruit  through  spring  frosts  that  yet  may  occur  will  not  be  the 
only  danger  to  be  feared,  for  fruit  may  set,  yet  fall  in  shoals  through 
lack  of  adequate  moisture  in  the  soil  where  the  roots  are  searching 
for  it  to  meet  the  requirements  of  foliage  and  fruit. 
Orchard  trees  cannot  be  effectively  watered,  but  it  may  be  well  to 
give  a  thought  to  fruit  trees  against  walls  in  dry  locations.  The 
rainfall  is  greatly  in  arrear,  the  springs  in  many  places  are  as  feeble  as 
they  were  at  any  time  last  summer,  watercourses  as  low,  and  the 
subsoil  over  a  great]  extent  of  country  as  dry  as  the  time-honoured 
— a  condition  the  reverse  of  favourable  to  the  setting,  and 
especially  the  swelling  of  fruit. 
A  gentleman  had  a  fine  Cherry  tree,  that  was  white  as  a  sheet 
with  blossom  annually,  but  for  years  the  incipient  fruits  were  shed. 
The  subsoil  on  examination  was  as  dry  as  powder.  He  was  advised 
to  make  numerous  deep  holes  with  a  crowbar,  and  fill  them  with 
water  time  after  time,  follow  with  liquid  manure,  and  then  close  them 
with  fresh  soil.  The  fruit  set  and  remained.  He  has  since  repeated 
the  process,  and  had  several  bountiful  crops  of  cherished  fruit.  The 
outlook  in  respect  to  soil  drought  and  the  water  supply  is  in  some 
districts  a  serious  one,  and  the  inconveniences  and  loss  resulting  may 
be  far  greater  than  from  a  blizzard  in  March. 
As  we  are  preparing  for  press,  Mr.  H.  Harris  sends  a  concise 
record  of  “A  Week’s  Weather  in  Sussex,”  which  is  not  lacking  in 
variety.  He  refers  to  last  week  : — “  Monday — fine,  sunshine,  cold 
winds.  Tuesday — sharp  frosts,  heavy  thunderstorms.  Wednesday — 
vivid  lightning,  heavy  rain.  Thursday — hail,  hurricane,  deep  snow. 
Friday — blizzard.  Saturday — thaw  and  fog.”  Truly,  as  he  says, 
the  month  just  closing  has  justified  its  character  of  “  March  many 
weathers.”  At  the  moment  of  writing,  the  bright  sun  and  soft  wind 
suggest  that  four  lines  by  “  A.  E.,”  in  the  “  Westminster  Gazette,’ 
are  not  inappropriate  as  a  welcome  to  April : — 
‘‘Hail,  gentle  spring,  fair  comer  hail ! 
Crown  the  bare  trees  with  misty  green. 
And  smother  every  hill  and  dale 
In  flowery  sheen !  ” 
DAFFODIL  LAND— TRESCO. 
The  streets  and  squares  of  London,  and  most  of  our  large  provincial 
towns,  owe  much  of  their  cheerful  aspect  in  early  spring  to  the 
presence  of  the  Daffodil,  the  Primrose,  and  the  Violet.  In  the  more 
open  parts  fountain,  statue,  and  lamppost  are  bright  with  golden  tones, 
and  fragrant  with  the  scent  of  V’iolets.  It  must  be  a  boon  to  clerk 
and  warehouseman,  cooped  for  hours  in  close  dark  rooms,  to  be  able  to 
refresh  the  eye  for  a  moment  with  glimpses  of  cheerful  colour  and 
fragrance,  suggestive  of  the  open  air,  green  fields,  budding  hedgerows, 
and  tuneful  birds. 
It  is,  however,  a  far  greater  treat  to  see  these  flowers  at  home. 
When  our  gardens  are  bare  and  flowerless,  except  for  a  few  scattered 
clumps  of  Snowdrop  and  Crocus,  the  gardens  of  Lily-land  are  bright 
with  glittering  colour,  and  fragrant  with  the  delicate,  yet  pungent, 
scent  of  the  Narcissus.  What  one  may  fairly  call  the  “  Home  of  the 
Daffodil  ”  is  the  archipelago  of  sunny  isles  and  granite  rocks  known 
by  poets  as  the  Land  of  Lyonesse — the  Isles  of  Scilly.  During  early 
April  one  may  see  the  flowers  at  their  best.  Tons  of  them  already 
are  despatched  weekly  to  London  and  the  great  towns.  Notwith¬ 
standing  the  apparent  advantages  of  climate  in  the  South  of  France 
buyers  prefer  the  Scilly  flowers — they  arrive  fresher,  and  in  better 
condition. 
During  the  spring  and  summer,  steamers  ply  twice,  and  at  times 
thrice,  a  week  between  Penzance  and  St.  Mary’s,  the  largest  of  the 
Scillies.  The  voyage,  in  fair  weather,  is  done  in  less  than  four  hours, 
the  distance  being  thirty  miles  from  Penzance,  and  about  twenty 
from  the  Land’s  End.  The  trip  is  worth  taking  if  only  to  see  the 
magnificent  cliffs.  As  one  steers  out  of  the  harbour  there  is  a  capital 
view  of  the  town,  with  the  masts  of  merchantmen  cutting  the 
terraces  of  buildings  that  climb  the  hill.  To  the  left,  or  eastward? 
about  two  miles  distant  is  St.  Michael’s  Mount,  rising  from  the  blue 
waters  like  a  vision  in  stone.  A  score  miles  across  the  bay  the  Lizard 
dips,  while  westward  is  the  Land’s  End. 
After  about  an  hour’s  steaming,  passing  by  the  way  the  beautiful 
Lamorran  Cove  and  Porth  Quorra  we  come  abreast  of  the  Land’s  End, 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Longships  Light,  and  soon  feel  the  roll  of  the 
huge  Atlantic  waves.  If  the  reader  be  no  better  seaman  than  the 
writer,  the  feeling  is  quite  sufficient,  and  notwithstanding  the 
magnificence  of  tumultuous  seas,  one  prefers  a  seat  beneath  the 
bridge,  and  a  nearer  view  of  the  machinery.  In  a  further  two 
hours  one  catches  sight  of  the  first  of  the  Scillies,  St.  Martin’s, 
distinguished  by  a  tower  with  broad  bands  of  white,  known  as  the 
“  Day  Mark.” 
The  Daffodil  has  been  a  favourite  flower  in  English  gardens  for 
centuries.  Only  two  kinds,  however,  are  known  to  grow  wild  in  our 
fields — Shakespeare’s  “  that  comes  before  the  swallow  dares,”  the 
Pseudo-Narcissus,  of  which  Wordsworth  sings;  and  biflorus,  found 
