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JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER 
May  14,  1896 
forming  deep  ravines,  through  which  the  water  in  mighty  volumes 
rushes  over  a  series  of  waterfalls  and  succession  of  deep  pools  and  rapids. 
Thus,  in  course  of  a  walk,  or  what  may  be  more  properly  described 
climbing  and  descending,  for  three  hours  up  one  stream  and  down  the 
other,  the  pedestrian  will  pass  through  scenery  as  sublimely  romantic 
and  beautiful  as  can  be  found  anywhere.  At  Ingleton  village  the  Doe 
joins  the  Greta,  and  under  the  latter  name  wends  its  way  for  several 
miles  through  rich  heavily  timbered  pastures  to  Burton-in-Lonsdale  on 
its  way  to  join  the  Lune. 
Lowfields. 
The  drive  from  the  station  across  this  country  on  a  glorious  May 
morning  was  a  treat  to  he  remembered,  and  to  a  town  dweller  in  the 
habit,  through  the  force  of  circumstances,  of  breathing  a  smoke-tainted 
atmosphere,  a  drive  he  would  like  to  repeat  as  often  as  possible.  A 
short  distance  beyond  the  village  of  Burton  we  come  to  the  entrance 
lodge  and  gates  of  Lowfields,  a  fine  display  of  Auriculas  on  the  window 
sills  of  the  lodge  proclaiming  this  to  be  the  home  of  a  true  florist.  The 
avenue  is  unique  in  its  way  by  reason  of  grand  specimen  Beeches  on  the 
one  hand,  and  magnificent  Larches,  100  years  old  by  Mr.  Horner’s 
record,  on  the  other.  The  avenue  is  flanked  by  a  long  plantation, 
forming  a  splendid  shelter  from  north  and  east  to  both  garden  and 
house. 
The  Florist’s  Welcome. 
The  rattle  of  wheels  brings  Mr.  Horner  to  the  front  door,  not  out  of 
the  house,  please  remember,  but  out  of  the  garden,  where  he  appears  to 
live,  except  at  meal  times  and  sleeping  hours.  One  of  his  double  hand¬ 
shakes,  “  So  glad  you’ve  come  !  ”  is  a  welcome  of  which  there  can  he  no 
doubt  of  its  genuine  heartiness.  Greetings  and  inquiries  about  distant 
friends  being  over,  we  step  out  on  to  the  front  of  the  house  for  a  general 
survey . — Azota. 
(To  be  continued.) 
LONDON’S  SPRING  FLOWERS. 
Dulwich  Park. 
Dulwich  village  is  one  of  the  prettiest  suburbs  of  South  London 
and  though  it  lies  within  easy  walking  distance  of  some  of  the  thickest 
populated  districts  of  Camberwell  and  Walworth,  there  is  something 
about  it  distinctly  rural.  Perhaps  it  is  those  long  lines  of  Chestnuts 
that  cast  their  shade  over  the  whole  roadway  ;  perhaps  it  is  because  the 
speculative  builder  has  dealt  mercifully  with  the  place  in  erecting 
tasteful  villa  residences,  the  fronts  of  which  are  now  gay  with  flowers 
and  creepers,  instead  of  those  long,  monotonous  lines  of  houses,  destitute 
of  any  attempt  at  decoration,  which  tend  so  much  to  give  even  a  suburb 
a  townlike  appearance,  or  it  may  be  the  presence  of  the  historic  College 
buildings. 
All  these  features  tend  to  make  Dulwich  interesting,  and  it  is  but  a 
few  years  ago  since  a  large  tract  of  ground,  chiefly  meadows  and 
pastures,  was  acquired  by  the  London  County  Council,  the  art  of  the 
landscape  gardener  brought  to  bear  on  it,  and  quickly  it  was  transformed 
into  the  place  of  beauty  now  known  as  Dulwich  Park. 
“  Come  and  see  the  rock  plants,  which  are  very  gay  just  now,’’  wrote 
Mr.  W  Bailey,  the  Superintendent.  That  was  enough  ;  I  had  seen 
them  before,  so  had  some  idea  of  what  they  would  be  like,  and  as  I  had 
just  been  reading  the  account  of  your  correspondent’s  wanderings 
amongst  the  world-renowned  spring  flowers  of  stately  Belvoir,  it 
tended  to  whet  my  appetite,  and  I  seized  an  early  opportunity  of 
placing  myself  within  the  precincts  of  London’s  garden  park. 
To  speak  of  rock  plants  naturally  brings  artistic  rockeries  forcibly  to 
the  mind,  and  perhaps  admirers  of  the  latter  would  be  tempted  to 
criticise  the  attempts  at  rockery  building  as  seen  at  Dulwich  ;  but 
when  we  come  to  think  that  this  was  not  the  end  in  view,  but  simply  to 
make  a  home  for  the  alpines,  then  we  turn  our  blind  eye  to  the 
artificial-looking  brick  ends,  and  admire  in  all  sincerity  the  unobtrusive 
though  truly  charming  little  plants  which  find  a  home  in  the  crevices. 
How  delightful  they  looked  in  the  bright  May  sunshine,  and  what 
contrasts,  too,  the  flowers  presented  I  The  rich  golden  glow  of  Alyssum 
saxatile  compactum  met  the  eye  at  every  turning  ;  a  little  further 
on  were  the  snow  white  masses  of  lberis  sempervirens,  and  rising 
from  moss-like  carpets  of  green  verdure  were  countless  starry  blossoms 
of  Saxifraga  Wallacei,  with  here  and  there  sweet  clumps  of  Asperula 
odorata  looked  even  more  modest  by  the  side  of  their  more  showy 
associates. 
“  1  think  Snake’s  Lane  is  the  chief  feature,”  remarked  my  guide, 
perhaps  a  little  wearied  with  my  lingering  progress.  So  to  Snake’s 
Lane  we  adjourned.  Which  side  to  admire  most  was  the  puzzle,  one 
apparently  wild,  the  other  cultivated.  How  charming  were  those 
golden  masses  of  Wallflowers  of  the  Boivoir  Castle  strain,  interspersed 
with  Forget-me-nots  and  Poet’s  Narciss,  with  here  and  there  a  clump 
of  Wood  Hyacinths,  Scilla  campanulata  dotted  in  between.  How 
delightfully  shady  under  those  tall  Elm  trees,  which  seem  to  have 
been  dropped  there  in  an  anyhow  sort,  of  fashion,  probably  all  that  is 
left  of  a  copse  ;  how  captivating  the  clinging  growth  of  the  Ivies  of 
various  habits  as  they  twirl  and  twine  round  the  fragments  of  tree 
stumps  left  for  the  purpose. 
Then  we  turned  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  lane,  and  marked  the 
contrast.  Not  so  showy  certainly  were  the  plants,  but  so  modest  and 
retiring  that  close  examination  is  necessary  to  find  them.  Nothing 
could,  in  a  simple  way,  be  more  charming  than  those  thick  compact 
masses  of  Saxifraga  mmcoides  purpurea  covering  the  rocks  and  stones, 
and  a  little  farther  on  rose  the  blooms  of  Tiarella  cordifolia,  or  Foam 
Flower.  One  could  not  resist  pausing  an  extra  moment  to  examine  more 
closely  the  crystal  beads  that  encircle  the  leaves  of  Saxifraga  Macnabiana, 
while  close  by  a  display  in  itself  was  formed  by  the  floriferous  spikes  of 
Saxifraga  pyramidalis. 
The  Epimediums  were  attractive,  for,  though  the  flowers  were  gone, 
their  absence  was  recompensed  by  the  pleasing  Caladium-like  tints 
of  the  foliage.  Then,  by  way  of  further  variety,  we  paused  to  admire 
the  bright  yellow  blossoms  of  Geum  montanum,  or  the  purple  tint  of 
Aubrietia  Campbelli.  Speaking  of  Aubrietias  reminds  me  of  others  seen 
at  Dulwich,  amongst  which  was  Andersoni,  a  variety  somewhat  darker 
than  the  one  mentioned.  What  an  interesting  family  are  the  Saxifragas. 
We  passed  a  mass  of  the  old-fashioned  S.  umbrosa,  or  London  Pride, 
followed  by  decipiens,  aizoon  minor,  paniculata,  incurvifolia,  and 
others,  each  occupying  its  little  corner  and  adding  a  charm  peculiarly 
its  own. 
Enough  has  been  said  about  Snakes’  Lane  to  prove  the  interest  of  a 
walk  through  it.  and  as  I  wandered  round  the  various  other  rockeries  I 
was  delighted  with  the  masses  of  flowers  everywhere.  A  guide  is,  how¬ 
ever,  needed  on  such  a  mission,  or  one  is  apt  to  miss  something  hidden 
away  in  a  sheltered  nook.  Fortunately  Mr.  Bailey  is  acquainted  with 
the  whereabouts  and  habits  ot  the  plants  under  his  charge,  and  led  me 
straight  to  where  several  of  the  herbaceous  Phloxes  were  blooming,  and 
amongst  them  P.  atro-purpurea,  procumbens,  and  The  Bride,  a  pretty 
white  variety,  were  very  pleasing.  Several  alterations  have  taken  place 
at  Dulwich  since  my  last  visit ;  additions  hive  been  made  to  the 
rockeries,  and  these  gradually  becoming  covered  with  suitable  plants 
add  further  attractions  to  the  Park.  There  is  something  of  an  aristo¬ 
cratic  look  about  the  place,  too,  quite  in  character  with  the  neighbour¬ 
hood,  and  one  is  struck  with  the  well-kept  garden-like  aspect  from 
every  point. 
Peckham  Eye  Park. 
Though  not  far  distant  from  Dulwich,  this  Park  differs  in  many 
ways  from  the  one  referred  to  above.  Comparatively  new  and  situated 
on  one  side  of  the  famous  Rye,  there  is  none  of  that  garden  appearance 
about  it  which  characterises  Dulwich,  yet  there  is  an  air  of  shaded 
peacefulness  about  its  winding  walks,  almost  hidden  by  a  canopy  of 
green  leaves,  that  makes  it  an  ideal  spot  for  such  broiling  afternoons  as 
we  have  lately  experienced. 
How  cool  and  pleasant  under  those  tall  Elm  trees,  how  delicious  the 
aroma  from  the  massive  Hawthorn  hedges,  wreathed  with  the  white 
blossoms  of  scented  May,  and  how  sweet  the  music  from  a  thousand 
songsters  in  the  branches,  and  all  in  a  London  park,  bear  in  mind,  that 
for  a  moment  I  forgot  I  was  within  sound  of  Big  Ben.  Horticulturally 
speaking,  Peckham  Park  does  not  shine  like  others  previously  mentioned 
in  this  series,  it  does  not  even  pretend  to  shine.  It  boasts  of  no  gorgeous 
display  of  bulbous  flowers  in  the  spring,  no  masses  of  Pelargoniums,  and 
the  like,  in  the  summer.  Geometrical  designs  of  any  kind  are  con¬ 
spicuous  by  their  absence,  and  yet  the  Park  is  beautiful,  simply  because 
it  is  what  it  was  intended  to  be — a  resting  place  for  the  people. 
In  this  respect  in  particular  it  differs  from  any  other  London  park  — 
a  pleasing  mixture  of  garden  and  woodland,  the  former  beautified  with 
Wallflowers,  Lilacs,  Brooms,  Laburnums,  and  such  like,  all  the  result  of 
the  gardener’s  art  ;  the  latter  simple,  wild,  and  apparently  uncared  for, 
except  by  the  best  of  gardeners — Nature  herself — and  in  its  wildness 
lays  its  charm,  and  I  venture  to  say  that  no  artificial  display  of  flowers 
in  London  is  more  appreciated  than  the  forest  of  wild  Parsley,  the  Blue¬ 
bells,  and  Forget-me-nots,  or  the  hedges  of  Hawthorn.  There  is  no  need 
there  for  an  artificial  aviary,  the  copse  forms  a  natural  one,  alive  with 
feathered  songsters  content  to  remain  and  add  by  their  presence  an 
additional  feature.  Oae  hardly  expects  to  hear  the  Cuckoo  in  a  London 
park,  but  Mr.  Ashmore,  the  superintendent,  informed  me  that  he  is  a 
frequent  visitor.  A  large  area  of  woodland  in  the  centre  of  the  park  is 
not  yet  in  the  hands  of  the  County  Council,  and  when  that  takes  place 
we  hope  its  wild  character  will  not  be  altered.  One  could  only  regret 
being  too  late  for  the  Aconites  and  other  early  spring  flowers,  which 
were  of  course  over. 
Several  years  will  have  to  elapse  before  the  more  cultivated  portion 
will  be  seen  to  the  best  advantage,  as  the  shrubs  are  yet  small.  The 
mild  winter  has,  however,  been  favourable,  and  though  wanting  rain 
now  they  are  making  capital  growth.  Mr.  Ashmore  has  done  well  in 
keeping  up  the  character  of  the  Park  by  growing  chiefly  old-fashioned 
flowers,  such  as  Irises,  Wallflowers,  and  Preonies,  which  looked  showy  in 
the  bright  sunshine.  The  groups  of  children  playing  about  and  adults 
resting  in  the  shade  gave  evidence  of  how  greatly  this  rendezvous  is 
appreciated  by  the  dwellers  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Peckham  Rye. — 
G.  H.  H. 
WALLFLOWERS  AT  INGESTRE. 
At  this  season  of  the  year  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  say  a  few 
words  of  one  of  our  favourite  flowers,  as  grown  in  the  beautiful  gardens 
at  Ingestre.  On  the  north  front  of  the  Hall  are  four  large  beds  planted 
alternately  with  Primrose  Dame  and  Covent  Garden  Blood  Red  Wall¬ 
flowers,  intermixed  with  Myosotis  alba  and  dissitiflora,  and  these  in  the 
distance  look  one  grand  mass  of  flowers.  They  certainly  are  as  good  as 
anyone  may  wish  to  see. 
We  enter  these  charming  gardens  from  the  eastern  side  of  the  Hall, 
which  is  known  as  “  The  Long  Walk,”  and  superb  specimens  of  Wall¬ 
flowers  line  the  steps  leading  down  this  main  entrance  to  the  garden, 
close  to  which  is  the  grand  conservatory,  with  recesses  in  the  walls  also 
