382 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
October  24, 1 1901. 
Wild  Flowers  of  Old  English  Gardens. 
October  is  upon  us,  yet  upon  some  of  our  garden  walls 
in  North  Kent,  refreshed  by  recent  showers,  the  Ivy-leaved 
Toadflax  is  still  leafy,  and  has  a  good  show  of  blossoms  yet, 
the  abundance  of  which,  earlier  in  the  season,  might  have 
its  quaint  name  of  Mother  o’  Millions.  It  may  also  be 
observed  in  window-boxes  and  flower-pots  hung  from  a 
cottage  ceiling,  where  it  had  been  planted  ;  on  walls  or  roofs 
it  is  often  self-sown.  There  are  people  who  think  Linaria 
cymbalaria  is  not  a  native,  but  was  brought  from  Italy  by 
some  monks  of  the  olden  time.  It  is  called  by  the  Italians 
“  Erba  della  Madonna,”  but  though  pretty  to  look  at  it  is 
somewhat  acrid  ;  yet  there  are  places  where  it  is  used  medi¬ 
cinally.  Gardeners  have  got  two  varieties  ;  one  of  these  has 
white  flowers,  the  other  variegated  leaves.  These  look  well 
on  rockwork,  as  does  the  usual  form  ;  all  are  propagated  by 
seed  easily.  A  natural  question  is,  Why  was  the  name  of 
Toadflax  given  to  this  and  some  allied  species  1  And  many 
might  say  the  shape  of  the  flower  possibly  suggested  it, 
since  the  names  of  Snapdragon,  Rabbit’s  Mouth,  Lion’s 
Mouth,  and  others  similar,  have  been  conferred  upon  these 
plants.  But  Mr.  Dyer  thinks  that  “toad”  was  applied  in 
contempt  to  a  bastard  or  deceptive  plant,  one  or  two  species 
having  narrow  leaves,  resembling  those  of  Flax.  The 
common  Toadflax  is  a  well  known  example  ;  L.  vulgaris 
has  crowded,  lance-shaped  leaves,  and  the  showy  flower- 
heads,  yet  low,  marked  with  orange,  explain  the  rural  name 
of  Butter  and  Eggs.  As  a  handsome  herb,  making  3ft  high 
sometimes,  it  came  into  gardens  long  ago  ;  now  the  variety 
peloria  is  chiefly  grown,  which  has  a  curious  five-spurred 
corolla.  One  of  our  poetical  botanists  praises  highly  this 
familiar  species  : 
Then,  Linaria,  mingle  in  my  wreath 
Thy  golden  dragons  ;  for  though  perfumed  breath 
Escapes  not  from  thy  yellow  petals,  yet 
Glad  thoughts  bring’st  thou  of  hedgerow  foliage,  wet 
With  tears  and  dew  ;  lark  warblings  and  green  Ferns, 
O’er-spanning  crystal  runnels,  where  there  turns 
And  twines  the  glossy  Ivy. 
Somebody  has  asserted  gardeners  have  no  taste  for 
poetry,  but  this  is  scandal.  There  is  one  species,  however, 
which  is  occasionally  fragrant,  the  creeping  L.  l’epens,  a 
rather  scarce  plant,  having  blue  flowers.  It  has  been  found 
along  the  sides  of  the  Thames,  as  high  up  as  Henley,  and 
near  to  its  mouth  at  Gravesend.  I  expect  it  is  not  dis¬ 
coverable  now.  Most  conspicuous  of  our  British  species- 
some  doubt  if  it  is  a  native,  though  recorded  in  many 
localities — is  the  Great  Snapdragon  (Antirrhinum  majus), 
which  for  a  long  period  has  had  a  place  in  our  gardens.  A 
rough  cut  of  this  plant,  very  ancient,  is  in  existence,  and 
the  name  of  Dog’s  Head  attached  thereto  ;  the  capsule  has 
been  compared  to  the  skull  of  a  calf.  When  growing  wild, 
the  flowers,  usually  rose-coloured,  are  sometimes  white  ;  by 
cultivation  many  varieties  have  been  produced,  some  very 
beautiful  ;  the  oldest  is  probably  the  deep  crimson  one. 
The  plant  is  an  insect  trap,  for  numerous  insects  enter  the 
flowers  by  squeezing  in  at  the  mouth,  to  obtain  the  nectar 
within  ;  but  having  regaled  on  this,  a  return  the  same  way 
is  impossible,  owing  to  the  hairy  mouth  of  the  corolla. 
Some,  however,  manage  to  escape  by  biting  a  hole  in  the 
flower  ;  winged  insects  do  not  usually  go  into  this  trap. 
The  elasticity  of  the  corolla  is  indeed  remarkable  amongst 
these  species.  This  seems  to  be  a  fact,  that  the  Great  Snap¬ 
dragon,  though  a  perennial,  is  apt  to  be  killed  in  the  English 
winter,  or  else  it  would  be  commoner  as  a  wild  flower.  The 
Sharp-pointed  Snapdragon  is  an  annual  which  has  been  a 
nuisance  in  some  Kentish  corn  fields  ;  its  flowers  are  yellow 
and  brown. 
Some  have  supposed  that,  in  spite  of  its  being  a  showy 
and  easily  obtainable  plant,  the  Foxglove  was  not  intro¬ 
duced  early  to  gardens,  because  people  regarded  it  with 
some  suspicion  or  dislike.  Certainly  I  cannot  trace  it  back 
beyond  the  reign  of  George  III.  Whether  Foxglove  really 
was  at  first  “  folk’s  glove  ”  we  may  never  be  able  to  settle, 
but  the  species  had  the  repute  of  being  associated  with 
witches  and  supernatural  creatures.  Nor  is  Foxglove, 
taken  literally,  so  ridiculous  as  it  may  seem,  because  in 
several  countries  there  existed  an  odd  notion  that  foxes  had 
a  fancy  for  gloves,  and  folks  tried  to  propitiate  them  by  lay¬ 
ing  gloves  about  their  haunts.  But  the  plant  has  gathered 
up  strange  names  ;  it  has  been  called  Poppy,  and  both  Cows¬ 
lip  and  Cowflop  can  be  certified  from  the  West  of  England. 
Tourists  in  Wales  see  wonderful  specimens  amongst  its  rocky 
crags,  Foxgloves  6  or  even  7ft  high.  A  pure  white  variety 
occurs  wild  in  several  localities,  and  remains  constant  from 
seed.  Many  fine  varieties  are  familiar  to  us  about  gardens, 
where  we  have  other  charming  species  brought  from  South 
Europe. 
I  do  not  remember  noticing  a  plant  in  any  garden,  but 
Loudon  enters  the  Figwort  amongst  cultivated  species  easy 
to  grow.  This  would  be,  I  presume,  the  Knotted,  or  Scrophu- 
laria  nodosa ;  its  numerous  flowers  are  not  particularly 
attractive,  and  the  smell  is  objectionable.  But  persons  who 
believed  in  the  story  Gerarde  refers  to,  that  a  piece  of  it  hung 
from  the  neck,  or  kept  in  the  pocket,  will  keep  us  generally 
well,  may  have  grown  the  Figwort,  so  as  to  have  the  plant 
handy.  Our  friends  who  study  plant  names  are  doubtful 
why  this  is  so  called,  unless  the  tubers  were  thought  to  re¬ 
semble  a  Fig  in  shape.  Another  species  that  has  always 
been  rare  is  the  yellow  Figwort  (S.  vernalis),  a  light  green 
plant,  and  the  flower  heads  remind  us  of  a  small  Calceo¬ 
laria.  It  did  once  grow  about  the  Surrey  suburbs  of  London. 
-J.  R.  S.  C. 
Florists'  Flowers:  Preparing  for  Winter.. 
The  past  season  has  been  a  trying  one  for  Auriculas.  The 
first  thing  that  the  grower  has  to  look  to  is  the  condition  of  his 
frames  or  pits.  One  of  the  most  frequent  causes  of  loss  with 
these  plants  is  what  is  called  “  drip,”  which  should  be  guarded 
against.  It  is  much  better  to  grow  them  in  pits  than  in  frames. 
It  is  well  before  the  winter  sets  in  to  give  them  a  good  fumiga¬ 
tion,  so  as  to  destroy  any  chance  of  green  fly.  All  dead  leaves 
you  should  carefully  remove,  then  it  will  be  seen  whether  there 
are  any  slugs  or  snails  lurking  about  the  holes  of  the  pots.  If 
left,  they  will  come  out  at  nightfall  and  destroy  the  hopes  that 
may  have  been  cherished.  It  will  be  well  also  to  gently  stir  the 
surface  of  the  soil  so  that  the  air  can  penetrate  through  it.  The 
grower  would  be  wise,  also,  to  provide  himself  with  some  warm 
covering  for  the  frames  in  case  severe  weather  sets  in. 
Carnations  and  Picotees. 
Carnations  and  Picotees  have  again  had  a  trying  time  this 
season.  I  do  not  now  flower  my  plants  in  pots,  but  in  beds,  and 
it  lias  been  a  somewhat  trying  season  for  them.  At  one  time  I 
thought,  owing  to  the  long  drought,  there  would  be  no  grass  at 
all  to  make  layers  of,  but  when  the  rain  did  come  they  made 
marvellous  growth,  and  the  layers  look  sound  and  healthy.  I  do 
not  think  that  it  is  well  to  do  as  some  do — plant  out  their  beds 
of  Carnations  in  the  autumn.  They  are  exposed  to  all  the  vicissi¬ 
tudes  of  our  fickle  climate,  and  in  severe  frosts  the  plants  are 
often  drawn  quite  out  of  the  ground.  I  therefore  at  this  season 
pot  the  plants  singly  in  small  pots,  and  put  them  in  a  frame  for 
the  winter.  Where  there  is  spare  room  in  a  pit,  it  is  as  good  for 
them  to  be  there  as  for  the  Auricula.  Loam  with  a  little  sand 
makes  a  very  good  compost  for  them.  They  should  have  abun¬ 
dance  of  air  on  suitable  occasions,  and  should  be  kept  free  from 
damp  or  drip.  If  these  directions  are  not  attended  to  black 
spot  appears  on  the  foliage,  and  this  unchecked  wrill  destroy  the 
plant.  I  have  known  whole  collections  which  have  been  utterly 
ruined  by  this  pest.  Water  should  be  sparingly  given,  and  they 
should  not  be  allowed  to  become  dust  dry.  Plants  thus  wintered 
should  be  in  good  condition  to  turn  out  in  the  spring. 
Dahlias  and  Gladiolus. 
A  great  change  has  taken  place  in  the  public  taste  for  Dahlias. 
The  old  Show  and  Fancy  varieties  have  been  very  nearly  elbowed 
out  by  the  Cactus  and  single  flowers.  When  the  plants  get  the 
first  frost  it  should  be  the  time  to  lift  the  tubers.  Where  these  are 
grown,  the  tubers  should  be  lifted  as  soon  as  the  first  touch  of 
frost  blackens  the  leaves ;  although  I  have  some  of  the  former 
section  which  have  stood  out  in  the  open  ground  during  last 
winter,  but  then  it  was  a  very  mild  one,  and  it  is  better  to  lift 
the  tubers  and  place  them  in  a  dry  situation  where  the  frost 
cannot  get  at  them. 
This  fine  autumn  has  been  exceptionally  favourable  to  the 
ripening  of  Gladiolus  seed.  Lift  the  corms  when  the  foliage 
shows  any  signs  of  decay,  but  they  must  not  be  left  too  long,  or 
frost  will  lay  hold  of  them.  They  should  be  carefully  lifted  and 
laid  out  to  dry  in  some  cool  place  sheltered  from  rain  and  frost. 
There  is  no  better  place  than  a  cool  vinery.  The  old  corms  should 
be  rubbed  away,  the  stem  cut  down  close,  and  where  it  is  desired 
to  increase  the  stock,  all  the  small  offsets  which  cluster  around 
the  base  should  be  carefully  rubbed  off  and  put  into  paper  bags 
or  small  boxes,  with  a  little  white  sand,  and  then  should  be  placed 
indoors  somewhere  where  they  will  be  free  from  harm  until  the 
spring.  I  should  add  that  when  any  bulbs  show  signs  of  disease 
in  spots  or  blemishes,  it  is  not  worth  while  to  keep  them,  as  they 
will  probably  go  off  in  a  species  of  dry  rot,  which  disease  is  the 
most  formidable  enemy  that  Gladiolus  bave  to  encounter.  Though 
I  have  grown  the  bulbs  for  upwards  of  forty  years  I  have  never 
been  able  to  find  either  a  preventive  or  a  remedy. — D.,  Deal. 
