226 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
September  14,  ls99. 
I  RECOLLECT  speaking  with  a  leading  Rose  grower,  some  ten  or 
fifteen  years  ago,  when  his  remark  was  “The  Hybrid  Tea  is  the 
coming  Ro>e.”  And  so  it  has  proved.  Mr.  George  Paul’s  Cheshunt 
Hybrid  began  the  series.  With  what  interest  it  was  viewed.  I 
remember  carrying  home  in  triumph  from  Cheshunt  a  10s.  6d.  pot 
plant  as  soon  as  it  was  in  commerce,  which  gave  me  at  once  half 
a  dozen  very  excellent  buds.  It  is  now  rather  over-ridden  as  a 
climber,  for  Reine  Marie  Henriette,  the  red  Gloire,  whose  profuse¬ 
ness  of  flower  on  a  south  wall,  where  it  enjoys  itself,  is  something 
really  marvellous;  but  for  fragrance  and  lovely  cherry  carmine 
Cheshunt  Hybrid  is  still  unapproached,  and  perhaps  unapproachable. 
But  now  how  this  class  has  grown,  something  owing,  no  doubt,  to 
the  wholesale  manner  in  which  La  France,  Captain  Christy,  Gloire 
Lyonnaise,  and  other  once  II. P.’s  were  tumbled  into  it,  very  properly, 
I  admit,  but  for  a  while  somewhat  perplexingly.  And  what  a  grand 
array  of  noted  names  stands  in  each  catalogue  under  the  H.T. 
heading  ! 
I  am  hardly  enough  in  the  Rose  world  now  to  keep  up  with  all 
the  new  ones,  but  many  names  occur  at  once.  Kaiserin  A.  Victoria, 
that  grand  solid  white;  Lady  Mary  Fitzwilliam,  always  good,  even  if 
the  plant  is  hardly  visible ;  Grace  Darling,  a  unique  colour ;  and 
Marquis  Litta,  a  splendid  red.  Gustave  Regis,  again,  a  very  ideal 
buttonhole  bloom,  though  its  long,  pointed,  canary  yellow  buds  show 
it  but  a  semi-double  when  the  sun  has  laid  hold  of  it.  Catoline 
'lestout  is  perhaps  the  loveliest  example  of  a  soft  pink  with  which 
I  am  acquainted. 
'I  hen  there  is  Mrs.  W.  J.  Grant,  the  very  Helen  of  Roses.  On 
3ier  return  from  that  unfortunate  American  escapade  she  very  properly 
dropped  the  “Belle  Siebriecht,”  and  returned,  like  her  predecessor,  to 
domestic  relations,  just  as  Helen  of  Troy  is  reproduced,  a  fair  peniten’, 
in  the  Odyssey.  This  I  really  admire  above  any  other  Rose,  perhaps, 
barring  Maiechal  Niel;  “  bright  rosy7  pink,  large  fully  pointed  flower,  ’ 
-s  only  a  feeble  attempt  at  a  declaration  of  her  manifold  chat  ins. 
I  draw  attention  to  this  class  of  Roses  now  that  the  planting 
season  is  coming  on,  in  order  that  growers  may  be  induced  to  give 
them  a  bed  to  themselves.  It  is  an  intermediate  class,  and  a  most 
delightful  one,  between  the  sterner  H.P.’s  and  the  more  feminine  and 
delicate  Teas  and  Noisettes. — A.  C. 
MIXED  BORDERS. 
Oor  nnxed  borders  are  now  so  satisfying  in  their  beauty,  fragrance, 
and  utility,  coupled  with  the  enchantment  they  give  to  that  somewhat 
prosaic  part,  the  vegetable  garden,  that  one  would  fain  describe  them, 
even  should  imitation  by  others  be  not  expedient.  ’Tis  a  medley, 
surely.  Roses,  herbaceous  plants,  annuals,  biennials,  and  bedding 
stock  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  a  few  old-fashioned  sweet-scented 
shrubby  plants  lining  each  side  of  the  walk  which  longitudinally 
bisects  the  kitchen  garden.  Box  bordered,  of  course  ;  neatest  and 
most  natural  of  all  the  edgings,  we  could  not  forego  it,  although  fat 
beasties  lurk  therein;  and  alleys  at  the  back  outlined  with  Thrift, 
such  alleys  facilitating  working  operations  and  providing  a  way  for  the 
wheelbarrow. 
Since  early  spring  the  borders  have  increased  in  beauty  and  interest 
until  now  the  climax  is  reached  in  their  autumnal  glory ;  hence  those 
who  come  solely  on  business  into  the  garden  are  wont  to  find  pleasure 
in  a  lingering  inspection  on  either  hand.  A  line  of  many-coloured 
hybrid  Primroses,  planted  last  autumn  parallel  with  the  Box  edging, 
made  a  brave  display  during  spring  when  autumn-rooted  Violas  were 
dotted  through  them  alternately  to  wax  in  beauty7  as  their  neighbours 
waned  in  blossom.  Having,  with  these  dots  and  lines  composing  our 
floral  margin,,  paid  tribute  to  the  ruling  passion,  formality  enters  no 
further  within  our  borders.  True,  some  endeavour  was  made  at 
planting  time  to  relegate  the  taller  to  the  background,  and  perennial 
Sunflowers,  Michaelmas  Daisies,  with  others  of  that  ilk,  look  dowrn  on 
lesser  things  from  the  rear  rank,  Roses  and  more  moderate  growers 
filling  the  middle  portion ;  yet  through  these,  again,  have  risen  clumps 
of  Sweet  Peas,  while  Delphiniums  have  aspired  to  prominence  and 
attained  it  with  spikes  of  matchless  blue. 
billing  ?  Really  the  filling  has  been  going  on  the  season  through 
with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  plants,  some  of  which,  be  it  remarked, 
to  show  the  error  o(  our  ways,  would  be  tolerated  in  no  respectable 
hardy  border.  For  instance,  after  the  bedding  was  completed  surplus 
“  Geraniums,”  Asters,  anything  in  fact,  were  planted  in  any  available 
^pace ;  yet  there  is  room,  and  biennials  in  the  way  of  Canterbury  Bells, 
Antirrhinums,  and  East  Lothian  Stocks  raised  elsewhere  are  being 
transplanted  at  odd  times  in  odd  places  with  an  eye  to  the  future. 
All  this  is  only  as  a  tithe  of  what  is  evident  to  the  eye  in  our  borders, 
or  revealed  by  the  sense  of  smell.  Fain  would  we  retrace  our  steps 
and  hark  back  to  early  summer,  when  the  claims  of  Cactus  Dahlias 
were  not  forgotten,  and  the  noble  father  of  the  family,  Juarczi,  now 
flaunts  over  others  in  paternal  pride.  Aye,  even  farther  back  should 
we  go,  when  Mignonette,  Love-in-a-mist,  Coreopsis  of  kinds,  the 
floriferous  Malope  grandiflora,  among  whose  rich  hued  blossoms  has 
appeared  a  chaste  white  iorm,  the  combination  of  colour  being 
suggestive  of  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  othi  r  annuals  were  sown. 
I  write  not  from  the  sun->corched  South,  -where  I  am  told  that 
mixed  borders  are  burnt  out,  so  that  in  not  a  few  dinginess  is  the 
prevailing  feature.  Let  us  hope  the  report  is  exaggerated,  and  if  it  is 
not  might  I  ask  if  such  borders  have  been  soundly  prepared,  enriched 
and  replenished  occasionally  ?  In  my  experience  nothing  gives  a 
better  return  for  thorough  cultivation  and  intelligent  management 
than  a  mixed  border. — Westerner. 
FROM  WEST  TO  EAST. 
( Concluded,  from  page  207.) 
Of  the  gardens  on  the  east  coast  there  are  what  may  be  termed 
both  ancient  and  modern.  The  newest  of  note  is  that  of  Lord 
Battersea  at  Overstrand,  about  two  miles  from  Cromer.  His  lord¬ 
ship’s  marine  residence  is  known  as  The  Phasaunce,  or  Pleasance — to 
give  pleasure.  In  past  t  mes  the  term  signified  a  secluded  part  of  a 
garden,  and  Ruskin  refers  to  “  The  Fleasances  of  old  Elizabethan 
homes,”  a  sentence  whic't  exactly  applies  in  the  present  case,  for  the 
residence  suggests  a  quaint  old  Elizabethan  house  with  considerable 
modern  extensions,  but  the  ancient  characteristics  admirably  retained. 
The  garden  is  essentially  a  garden  of  pleasure — a  garden  of  mounds 
and  dells,  of  twirling  awns  and  twisting  grassy  glades,  through 
umbra  g<  ous  masses  of  trees  and  shrubs;  of  secluded  nooks,  Ferny 
banks  and  alpine  colonies ;  of  stumps  and  Ivies  and  rambling  Roses  ; 
of  floral  arcades — tunnels  of  beauty  and  fragrance;  of  pergolas,  paved 
with  flagstones  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  made  smooth  by  millions  of 
traversing  feet,  for  this  quaint,  firm,  clean  flooring  was  brought  from 
an  old  L  ndon  street.  We  have  thus  memories  of  the  city  below, 
with  Roses,  Honeysuckbs,  Vitises,  Ampelopses  and  other  ramblers 
above,  and  the  sea  within  earshot,  though  from  this  point  invisible,  as 
the  |  ergolas  arc  in  the  kitchen  garden,  which  is  thus  made  a  pleasant 
retreat  on  the  border  of,  and  in  harmony  with,  the  thirty  acres  of 
pleasure  grounds.  _ 
What  a  startling  change  in  a  little  time  !  What  an  exemplifica¬ 
tion  of  the  power  of  the  combined  forces  of  love,  wealth,  skill,  and 
labour  !  Ten  years  ago  a  sandy  wind-swept  waste,  but  now  a 
furnished  garden  of  pleasure  ;  furnished,  but  not  finished.  Important 
work  is  near,  and  almost  pressing — the  thinning  of  trees,  so  prodigally 
planted,  to  prevent  first  a  wild,  tangle,  the  sure  precursor  of  naked 
lower  branches,  when  the  charm  of  seclusion  will  be  a  thing  of  the 
past.  There  is,  however,  happily  no  reason  to  dcubt  that  Lord 
Battersea  and  his  able  and  active  gardener,  Mr.  Clements,  will  be 
equal  to  the  interesting  work  belore  them,  and  which  undoubtedly 
demands  taste,  judgment,  and  skill,  or  caution  with  decisive  action 
for  its  satisfactory  accomplishment.  What  is  written  here  is  no 
description  of  this  remarkable  garden,  as  no  details  can  be  given  of,  for 
instance,  the  long  arcade  of  Laburnums,  with  its  golden  firmament  in 
the  spring  ;  of  the  masses  of  Sea  Buckthorn,  with  myriads  of  bright 
berries,  as  if  piled  on  each  other  ;  of  thrifty  fruit  trees  and  other  items, 
including  splendid  bushes  of  Fuchsia  Riccartoni,  15  feet  across  ;  but 
only  a  mere  passing  glance  is  given  of  some  predominating  features 
in  just  one  ot  those  gardens  which  the  visitor  who  sees  once  would 
like  to  see  again.  _ 
Passing  to  older  gardens,  Cromer  Hall  (Mrs.  Cabbell’s)  nestling  in 
the  woods,  could  only  be  viewed  from  the  cliffs  above.  The  junior 
must  have  been  indulging  in  telegraphy7  in  a  clandestine  sort  of  way, 
or  why  should  Mr.  Allan  of  Gunton  (with  his  son,  Lord  Hillingdon's 
gardener),  have  swooped  down  upon  us  in  our  den  ?  He  tempted  the 
youngster  in  some  such  way  as  this,  “  You  must  come  over  and  see 
the  old  place ;  my  trap  will  meet  the  train — a  change  from  the  sea 
will  do  you  good.  We  have  not  much  to  show  you;  but  we  have  a 
few  trees,  a  bit  of  fruit,  two  or  three  Tomatoes,  a  pleasure  ground  in  a 
drawing-room,  and  one  or  two  Asparagus  beds.  You  shall  then  be 
driven  across  country7  to  see  Mr.  Shingler  and  bis  Grapes.”  The  young 
man  fell,  and  our  hours  in  the  east  were  numbered. 
Gunton  Park  extends  over  a  thousand  acres,  is  well  wooded,  and 
presents  many  fine  features  ;  but  we  had  first  to  see  the  Thorpe  Oak, 
which  is  not  in  it,  but  near  the  nursery7.  It  is  a  truly  noble  tree,  and 
has  weathered  the  storms  of  centuries,  yet  appears  to  possess  the  vigour 
of  youth.  The  “  invalid,”  who  is  something  of  a  forester,  and  has  to 
