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JOUIUVAi:  OF  tiORT  I  CULTURE  AND  COtDAOE  GARDUNE'ti, 
Jfnljr  So,  ISM. 
and  truly  our  planter  has  been  one  “  to  take  occasion  by  the  hand 
and  make  the  bounds  of  freedom  wider  yet.” 
On  the  opposite  bank,  where  neat  winding  walks  and  trimmed 
grass  look  comparatively  tame  contrasted  with  this  wild  luxuriance, 
we  know  that  spring  has  witnessed  some  charming  pictures.  There, 
under  the  trees,  large  irregular  patches  of  Snowdrops  have  waxed  and 
waned,  and  the  Lilies  of  Lent  have  nodded  a  welcome  to  our  river  until 
they  sank  to  rest.  So,  with  just  a  passing  apology  for  its  present 
plainness,  we  may  ramble  on.  Even  here  one  is  hardly  disposed  to 
notice  the  lesser,  but  not  least  beautiful  objects  unless  some  bright 
colour  meets  the  eye,  but  the  latest  and  most  charming  of  the  Forget- 
me-nots,  M.  palustris,  is  now  at  its  brightest  and  best.  Too  thinly 
disposed  to  make  a  brave  show,  it  is  necessary  to  gather  a  good  posy 
to  rightly  estimate  its  character. 
Is  there  anything  wanting  in  this  wild  garden  by  the  river  ? 
With  some  lingering  visions  of  tropical  river  scenery  there  is,  per¬ 
haps,  just  a  momentary  longing  for  a  few  feathery  Palms  on  that 
jutting  headland  now  occupied  with  a  planting  of  Polygonums, 
and  there  are,  of  course,  a  hundred  things  used  in  sub- tropical 
gardening  that  the  spirit  of  enthusiasm  would  transplant  here.  Bat 
second  thoughts  are  best.  The  ministering  hand  comes  not  here 
save  but  at  long  intervals.  Now  and  again  a  desultory  visit  from 
the  “  head,”  with,  maybe,  a  couple  of  “  hands  ”  planting  something 
to  flourish  at  its  own  sweet  will. 
Trimming  and  tidying  enter  not  into  this  wild  garden  by  the 
river,  for  the  outward  and  visible  forms  of  keeping  are  not  apparent, 
yet  neglect  is  the  last  notion  that  enters  into  one’s  thoughts  as  we 
make  slow  progress  to  the  old  stone  bridge.  An  old  stone  bridge, 
rugged,  weather-beaten,  all  the  harshness  long  blotted  out  with 
warm-hued  Lichens.  J ust  a  pause  to  admire  a  fine  patch  of 
Hyacinthus  candicans  ere  we  scan  it  at  close  quarters.  “  Why,  this 
is  just  the  place  for  this  plant  1”  my  companion  exclaim*;  “has 
the  spot  been  prepared  ?  ”  Ah,  my  friend,  there  is  more  doubtless 
than  appears  on  the  surface  ;  and  so  with  many  things  that  flourish 
here  amazingly.  We  might  even  on  a  winter’s  day  see  a  few  cart¬ 
loads  of  manure  making  their  way  here.  Such  thing#  are  appreciated 
even  in  semi- wild  gardening. 
But  long  ages  ago  was  this  position  prepared  for  our  nineteenth 
century  gardener.  We  may  note  here,  as  may  be  frequently  noted 
by  an  observant  eye  with  other  rivers,  that  it  has  originally 
covered  a  much  larger  space,  and  its  ancient  banks  stretching 
farther  back,  with  here  and  there  projecting  water-washed  rocks, 
tell  a  story  of  the  silent  past.  The  past  has  prepared  the  present 
opportunity,  and  the  po»ition  is  unrivalled  for  the  purpose  it  is 
now  adapted  to. 
We  finish  at  the  bridge.  On  the  buttresses  of  the  single  span 
Ampelopsis  Veitchi  is  making  headway,  and  here  and  there  at 
intervals  Linaria  cymbalaria  bangs  loosely  from  its  precarious  foot¬ 
hold.  One  feels  sorry  it  is  a  weed — at  lea*t,  so  I  have  heard  it 
called.  Years  ago  I  saved  a  fine  specimen  drooping  3  feet  on  an 
old  wall  from  the  avenging  speed-stick  of  a  nobleman  who  was 
endeavouring  to  dislodge  it.  “  Do  you  like  it  ?  ”  he  said.  “  I  love 
it,  my  lord,”  was  the  reply,  and  saved  it,  for  he  was  too  generous 
not  to  identify  his  “weed”  with  my  cherished  wildling.  Tiuly, 
we  could  lit  and  chat  on  the  low  parapet  for  hours  (only  I  know 
our  Editor  won’t  let  us),  for  here  are  Ceterachs  and  Wall  Rue, 
humble  types  of  the  Fern  world,  Erinus  alpinus  following  in  line* 
the  course  of  the  masonry  ;  this  it  wa#  that  gave  that  warm  glow 
in  the  distance.  Venerable  and  charming  is  this  old  stone  bridge, 
telling  its  own  tale,  too,  of  conscientious  workmen  long  ago.  In 
fact,  from  bridge  to  bridge,  from  start  to  finish  of  our  walk  and 
talk  by  the  river,  there  is  much  that  is  worthy  of  imitation  where 
circumstances  permit. — Invicta. 
HORTICULTURAL  HISTORY  NOTES. 
A  Qardenek’s  Paradise  and  its  Vicinity. 
The  honoured  Editor  of  our  Journal,  the  humble  author  of 
this  article,  and  sundry  other  per#ons  no  longer  youthful,  well 
acquainted  with  West  London,  can  recall  the  time  when  there  yet 
remained  a  Brompton  Park  Nursery,  reduced  from  it*  original 
ample  proportions  to  but  a  limited  space.  It  has  gone  now  and 
left  no  trace,  though  at  the  period  Addison  and  his  literary  friends 
were  writing  the  “  Spectator,”  it  was  regarded  a*  the  nursery 
of  nurseries — a  gardener’s  paradise  in  fact,  where  nearly  all  the 
trees,  shrubs,  and  plants  cultivated  in  Britain  could  be  seen 
flourishing. 
About  the  year  1850  the  nnrsery  ceased  to  exist ;  some  of  its 
land,  however,  has  escaped  the  builder,  for  the  gardens  around  the 
Natural  History  Museum  are  on  a  part  of  the  land  that  was 
Brompton  Park,  and  other  fragments  of  it  yet  remain  open  ground. 
Originally  its  extent  was  above  100  acres,  reaching  from  Old 
Brompton  Road  to  the  Kensington  Road,  and  its  western  boundary 
seems  to  have  been  Hogmore  Lane,  now  Gloucester  Road.  Early 
in  this  century  it  had  diminished  to  one- third.  Doubtless  during 
Tudor  and  Stuart  times  it  was  a  deer  park,  attached,  with  gardens 
and  meadows,  to  one  of  those  residences  of  nohles  scattered  over 
London  suburbs.  Like  many  adjacent  places,  Brompton  has  its 
memories  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  who  is  said  to  have  often  visited  the 
park  ;  and  it  appears  that  hi*  son  Henry  occupied  for  awhile  an 
ancient  house,  abutting  on  what  became  known  as  Cromwell  Lane. 
This  was  not,  however,  the  chief  mansion,  or  Brompton  Hall, 
which,  it  is  presumed,  had  been  pulled  down  before  the  Pro¬ 
tectorate,  but  at  what  date  is  doubtful. 
The  suitableness  of  this  spot  for  a  nursery  on  an  exteniive 
scale  led  four  persons  to  unite  with  this  object,  and  they  started 
in  1681.  seven  years  before  the  Revolution.  These  were  Cooke, 
Field,  Lukar  (or  Lucre),  and  London,  the  last  being  best  known 
to  fame.  He  had  worked  under  Rose,  chief  gardener  to  Charles  II., 
and  who  is  said  to  have  presented  to  that  monarch  the  first  Pine 
Apple  raised  in  Britain.  By  his  advice,  London  spent  some  time  in 
France,  to  examine  plants  cultivated  there,  but  then  unfamiliar 
here  ;  also  to  study  French  style*  of  gardening.  Evidently  he  was 
the  leading  man  in  the  establishment,  and,  by  1694,  the  other 
partners  had  died  or  withdrawn,  and  London  chose  as  his  new 
associate  Henry  Wise,  who  had,  like  himself,  been  associated  in  the 
Royal  gardens  with  Rose.  It  was  through  the  efforts  of  these  two 
men  that  Brompton  Park  Nnrsery  attained  the  pre-eminence  it 
long  held. 
Addison  called  them  “  heroic  poets,”  and  notices  particularly  the 
skill  they  had  shown  in  transforming  what  had  been  an  unsightly 
hollow  on  the  north,  old  gravel  pits,  chiefly,  into  a  pleasant  valley 
surrounded  by  wooded  slopes.  Evelyn,  the  illustrious  author  of 
“  Sylva,”  was  now  becoming  aged,  yet  took  great  interest  in  the 
nursery,  and  commended  London  and  Wise,  because  they  were  not 
devoted  to  money  making,  but  tried  to  advance  their  profession  in 
all  ways  possible.  He  adds,  quaintly,  “They  have  a  very  large 
assembly  of  flowering  and  other  trees,  evergreens  and  shrubs,  hardy 
and  fittest  for  our  climate  ;  they  understand  what  best  to  plant  the 
bumbler  boscage,  wilderness,  or  taller  groves  with,  also  how  to 
disperse  and  govern  them  according  to  the  ground,  or  situation  of 
the  place.”  Also,  he  refers  to  the  fact  that  they  did  not  neglect 
the  “  less  pompous  part  of  horticulture,  and  thoroughly  understood 
how  to  produce  vegetable*  and  fruit,”  That  London  and  Wise 
were  largely  employed  to  lay  out  gardens  and  parks,  not  only  about 
the  metropolis,  but  in  distant  parts  of  England,  is  certain,  and  one 
special  function  of  theirs  was  the  planting  of  winter  gardens,  exotic 
evergreens  being  much  in  demand  for  this  object.  It  ha*  been 
alleged  against  them,  however,  and  with  reason,  that  they  were 
propagators  of  the  stiff  Dutch  modes  of  arranging  gardens,  though 
they  followed  a  variety  of  styles. 
One  thing  that  attracted  notice  during  the  reign  of  George  III. 
was  the  display  of  Tines  at  this  nursery,  extending  for  about  half 
a  mile  along  an  ancient  wall  that  had  bounded  one  side  of  the  old 
park.  Manv  changes  were  made  by  successive  owners.  According 
to  Loudon,  Swinhoe,  Smith  &  Co.  took  the  establishment  early  in 
the  eighteenth  century,  but  there  seems  to  be  some  confusion  as  to 
dates.  London  did  not  die  till  1717,  having  taken  a  chill  from 
riding  too  long  on  horseback,  an  exercise  of  which  he  was  particu¬ 
larly  fond.  It  wa*  in  that  year  that  his  and  Wise’s  translation  of  a 
book  of  Quintiney’s  appeared,  under  the  title  of  “  The  Complete 
Gardener.”  Gray,  Wear  &  Co.  are  named  as  proprietors  in  1788. 
This  Gray  is  said  to  have  had  a  narrow  escape  in  the  Gordon  Riot*, 
having  got  unawares  into  a  mob  which  the  soilders  were  charging 
with  bayonets.  That  name  continued  till  the  end,  for  we  find  that 
in  1850  the  firm  was  Gray,  Adams,  and  Hogg,  and  had  been  for 
some  years.  Cunningham  observes,  in  his  “  Handbook  of  London  ” 
of  the  above  date,  that  the  entrance  to  Brompton  Park  Nursery 
was  near  the  first  milestone  on  the  Kensington  Road,  probably  close 
to  Kingston  House.  Soon  after  this  the  place  was  closed,  but  part 
of  the  park  remained  nursery  ground  for  a  time,  the  original  land 
having  been  gradually  subdivided. 
Of  the  other  nurseries  which  made  Old  Brompton  famous  amongst 
gardeners  three  stood  forth  prominently ;  they,  too,  have  yielded, 
like  the  great  nursery,  to  modern  improvements,  and  streets  or 
terraces  occupy  their  sites.  Onslow  Square,  with  its  handsome 
avenue  of  trees,  I  have  always  supposed  to  be  a  relic  of  some 
nursery,  Harrison’s  perhaps,  which  was  between  the  Fulham  and 
Brompton  Roads  ;  as  that  of  Gibbs’  also  was,  not  far  from  the 
Hoop  and  Toy  Tavern  and  the  Methwold  Almshouses.  What 
afterwards  became  known  as  Swan  Lane,  near  the  Queen’s  Elm, 
a  memory  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  once  Ballad  Lane,  suggestive 
of  the  culture  of  refreshing  vegetables  thereabout.  Harrison’s 
nursery  occupied  nearly  28  acres,  and  is  said  to  have  dated  from 
the  reign  of  George  I.  Tery  little  of  its  space,  if  any,  was  devoted 
to  flowers,  the  firm  giving  their  attention  to  forest  and  fruit  trees, 
