February  23,  18S9. 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTTCULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER, 
Ml 
when  one  is  longinfj  for  sunny  days  and  smiling  flowers.  Yet  a 
thread  of  gold  runs  through  the  web  of  the  season’s  trial.  It  meets 
our  eyes  now  and  again,  and  gladdens  us  because  it  reveals  the  truth 
that  all  is  not  dark  and  hopeless. — S.  Arnott. 
LONDON  GARDENS  OVER  FIFTY  YEARS. 
Xo.  4. 
Rose-growing,  in  the  open  ground  of  gardens  about  the  central 
districts  of  London,  was  a  disappointing  business  half  a  century  ago, 
and  had  been  such,  indeed,  after  coal  became  the  main  fuel  of  the 
metropolis.  It  was  when  wood  kept  up  fires  that  the  Temple 
Gardens  displayed  their  memorable  red  and  white  Roses,  while  the 
grounds  of  Ely  House  yielded  these  flowers  by  the  bushel.  Varieties 
of  the  Provence  are  said  to  have  been  the  last  that  flourished  near 
the  City.  Persons  have  got  specimens  of  the  Rosa  gallica  to  flower 
amid  smoke,  and  a  venerable  Perpetual  may  ne  seen  yet  in  some 
suburban  garden,  which  has  grown  accustomed  to  the  London  atmo¬ 
sphere.  Hedges  in  the  semi-rural  suburbs  might  formerly  have  been 
seen  skirting  the  gardens  of  villas,  with  Rose  canina  shoots 
spreading  over  the  Hawthorn  bushes,  but  hedges  have  had  to  yield 
to  walls  or  railings,  as  affording  more  protection.  Occasionally  there 
might  be  found  in  a  London  garden  a  specimen  of  the  Clove-styled 
Dog  Rose  (R.  systyla)  which  grew  wild  early  in  this  century  near 
Clapton  and  Hornsey,  also  in  other  places.  It  was  transplanted  to 
gardens  because  of  its  fragrant  pinkish  flowers,  being  in  growth  a 
slender  species,  but,  under  favourable  circumstances  it  would  reach 
the  height  of  10  feet. 
Nothing  probabl}’’  can  be  brought  forward  more  indicative  of  our 
progress  in  horticulture  than  the  position  which  the  Chrysanthemum 
now  occupies  amongst  London  flowers,  for  it  is  as  largely  grown  both  in 
houses  and  out  of  doors,  valued  specially  because  it  keeps  in  bloom  at 
a  season  when  other  flowers  are  scarce.  Nor  do  the  plants  seem  to 
be  so  sensitive  to  a  city  atmosphere  at’ its  worst  as  many  favourite 
species  are.  This  has  been  proved  by ,  the  continued  and  successful 
cultivation  of  the  flower  in  the  Inner  Temple  flardens.  From  all 
parts  of  London,  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  folks  came  to  see  Mr. 
Broome’s  autumn  show,  very  creditable  to  him,  but,  of  course,  greatly 
surpassed  by  the  recent  exhibitions  in  the  same  grounds.  Here  and 
there  a  suburban  garden  had  its  bed  of  Chrysanthemums  and  Pompons. 
As  a  boy  I  remember  visiting  sometimes  an  old  gentleman  who  had  one 
of  those  gardens  at  Chelsea,  common  then,  which  were  large  for  the 
size  of  the  house  to  which  they  were  attached.  About  half  his  space 
he  had  filled  with  Gooseberries  and  Currants,  the  other  half  was  all 
devoted  to  Chrysanthemums.  Pot  culture  of  the  plant  was  then  in 
its  infancy ;  gardeners  were  finding  out  how  needful  it  was  to  protect 
choice  kinds  from  wind  and  weather,  also  that  many  could  be 
advantageously  dwarfed.  Tbe  Japanese  sorts  do  not  appear  to  have 
been  known  in  Britain  till  1870,  but  they  stand  first  in  popularity, 
and  are  most  prolific  in  new  varieties,  perhaps  seventy  or  eighty 
yearly.  Hence  we  hear  little  now  about  the  quilled,  tassellerl. 
Marigold,  and  Aster  flowered,  and  other  varieties  our  fathers  thought 
charming.  Some  folks  talked  of  a  Chrysanthemum  centenary  in  1890, 
but  others  have  tried  to  make  out  that  the  Chinese  Chrysanthemum 
was  unknown  till  1818.  Yet  Loudon,  in  his  “Encyclopaedia’'  of 
1824  refers  to  it  as  a  plant  long  familiar ;  in  fact  he  names  1764  as  the 
year  of  its  introduction,  though  I  think  this  date  is  doubtful. 
The  National  Chrysanthemum  Society  held  its  fifty-second  annual 
shows  last  autumn,  the  first,  and  other  early  ones,  being  on  a  very 
different  scale  to  those  which  have  for  many  years  been  so  attractive. 
According  to  Mr.  Dean,  the  indefatigable  Secretary  of  the  above 
Society,  the  principal  new  varieties  come  from  France  and  America, 
few  from  .Japan.  If  the  ideal  of  a  Chrysanthemum  be  its  perfect  shape, 
symmetry,  and  constancy  in  colour,  the  Japanese  seldom  approach  this 
standard,  and  we  shall  award  the  palm  to  examples  of  the  incurved, 
reflexed,  and  Pompon  types.  Somebody  has  said  that  the  romance  or 
poetry  of  horticulture  lies  in  sowing  seeds,  not  knowing  what  curious 
varieties  may  arrive  which  would  apply  to  Chry.santhernum  growing 
as  to  other  plants  which  sport.  Of  course,  out  of  the  thousands  shown 
at  the  Royal  Aquarium,  a  large  proportion  come  from  a  distance,  but 
the  suburbs  of  London  are  well  represented  both  by  cut  blooms  and 
pots. 
Again,  looking  at  exhibitions  more  local,  we  may  refer  to  the  annual 
show  of  the  Highgate  Chrysanthemum  Society,  which  could  draw  .3b0 
exhibitors  last  year,  and  to  that  of  Waterlow  Park,  one  of  the  best  near 
London.  Or,  going  southward  to  a  poorer  neighbourhood,  as  instancing 
a  love  for  this  flower  amongst  busy  workers  at  the  East  End,  w'e  see 
an  encouraging  advance  in  last  yeaPs  show  of  the  East  London 
Horticultural  Society.  Ten  years  ago,  when  a  start  was  made  at  the 
People’s  Palace,  the  bulk  of  the  exhibits  came  from  We.st  London  ;  now 
the  East-enders,  though  they  receive  friendly  help,  could  really  manage 
the  show  by  themselves,  so  much  skill  have  they  acquired  in  gardening. 
It  has  been  proposed  to  supply  young  people  with  plants  at  the  rate 
of  a  penny  each,  these  (o  be  thereafter  produced,  and  prizc.s  awarded 
to  the  best  grown,  which  is  a  good  scheme. 
Glancing  back,  again,  we  can  recall  the  fondness  with  which 
Londoners,  when  Chrysanthemums  were  few,  cherished  their 
Michaelmas  Daisies,  sometimes  even  forming  a  hedge  of  ihcm 
between  gardens  in  a  row.  A  gawky,  straggling  plant,  it  has  been 
called  ;  yet  there  are  some  good  varietie.s,  and  it  will  flower  even  In 
the  air  of  a  crowded  city.  It  might  have  been  seen  giving  a 
temporary  cheerfulness  in  autumn  to  one  of  the  old  London  church¬ 
yards,  companioned,  perhaps,  by  a  sickly  fJuelder  Rose,  or  a  mournful 
Elder  bush.  In  1848,  interments  still  took  place  within  churchyards 
that  had  become  dangerous  nuisances,  so  slow  are  we  to  abolish  evils 
all  too  obvious.  It  was  no  wonder  that  cholera  should  ravage  many 
districts  in  1848  and  1854;  instances  had  even  occurred  of  sheep  being 
poisoned  that  were  fed  upon  the  unwholesome  grass  some  produced. 
Many  became  resorts  of  the  wandering  cats  of  the  neighbourhood, 
and  it  was  not  unusual  for  the  garden  portion  of  a  burial  ground 
to  be  cleared  of  weeds  but  once  in  the  quarter.  At  length,  in  1853, 
an  Act  of  Parliament  enforced  the  closure  of  all  churchyards.  But  this 
did  not  quite  remedy  matters ;  there  arose  a  danger  that  some  wouid 
be  built  upon,  converted  into  builder’s  yards,  or  otherwise  desecrated, 
and,  indeed,  before  very  long  had  elapsed  after  burials  ceased,  not  a 
few  became  repositories  of  all  sorts  of  rubbish  from  the  streets  around. 
Slowly  it  dawned  upon  the  minds  of  sensible  persons  that  places 
closed  to  the  dead  might  be  opened  under  altered  conditions  to  the 
living ;  hence  the  movement,  so  fruitful  in  result,  for  the  transformation 
of  disused  churchyards  into  pleasant  gardens.  I'robably  it  was  quite 
as  well  that  a  number  of  them  were  left  alone  for  years,  before  any 
disturbance  of  the  ground  took  place,  which  might  otherwise  have 
been  mischievous  through  the  diffusion  of  noxious  gases.  At  least,  I 
remember  well  my  visit  to  a  large  suburban  ground  at  Chelsea,  while 
in  process  of  conversion  by  extensive  digging,  and  the  experiences  of 
eye  and  nose  and  mouth  were  painful. 
Instances  there  are,  however,  of  a  burial  ground  becoming  a  garden 
or  public  resort  without  the  removal  of  the  monuments  and  stones. 
For  example,  there  is  the  largest  open  space  within  the  East  Central 
District  familiarly  known  as  Bunhill  Fields,  which  is  in  extent  about 
6  acre.s.  For  a  long  time  it  was  the  great  burial  ground  of  Dissenters  ; 
then  it  became  the  property  of  the  Corporation  ol  ijouaou,  wno  spent 
£3000  upon  it  and  made  it  free  to  the  public ;  but  we  cannot  call  it 
a  garden.  Four  of  the  London  churchyards,  as  Mrs.  Basil  Holmes 
remarks,  occupy  the  position  of  pioneer  gardens.  One  of  these  is  the 
historic  little  plot,  only  a  (juarter  of  an  acre,  in  the  midst  of  Drury 
Lane,  which  was  a  garden  till,  it  being  impossible  to  preserve  the 
plants,  it  was  turned  into  a  gymnasium  for  children.  Another  is 
St.  Botolph’s,  Bishopsgate,  opened  about  1876,  but  afterwards  closed 
for  some  years.  It  is  singular  that  the  City  has  four  churches  named 
after  this  worthy,  and  all  their  yards  are  now  public  gardens.  Right 
in  the  City’s  heart  that  of  St.  Botolph’s,  Aldgate,  is  wonderfully  attrac¬ 
tive  though  small  in  size.  It  was  laid  out  by  the  Metropolitan  Public 
Gardens  Association.  In  May,  1892,  it  was  opened  by  the  Hon.  Sir 
Charles  Freemantle. 
Then  there  is  the  churchyard  of  St.  John’s,  Waterloo  Tfoad,  noticed, 
no  doubt,  by  some  of  the  many  thousands  who  travel  on  the  South- 
Eastern  line  between  Charing  Cross,  Cannon  Street,  and  London 
Bridge.  It  was  opened  in  1877,  and  has  several  good  trees.  Elms, 
Limes,  and  Planes.  I  believe,  indeed,  a  few  years  ago  someone  asked 
a  scientific  journal  how  he  might  establish  a  rookery  there.  The 
difficulty  would  be,  probably,  how  the  birds  should  get  food  if  they 
settled  in  such  a  place,  there  being  no  fields  near  in  which  thev  could 
forage.  Replying  to  a  similar  question,  perhaps  half  in  joke,  an 
editor  suggested  tlie  placing  of  a  number  of  old  birch  brooms  in  the 
trees,  so  that  rooks  brought  there  might  suppose  it  a  deserted 
settlement. 
The  garden  of  St.  George’s-in-the-East  is  a  memorable  one,  and 
has  afforded  enjoyment  to  myriads  of  young  and  old  for  full  twenty 
years.  We  have  a  graphic  description  by  the  Rev.  Harry  Jones,  of 
the  trouble  he  and  his  friends  had  in  obtaining  leave  to  lay  out  the 
ground  as  a  garden,  adding  to  it  the  Wesleyan  plot  adjacent,  which 
makes  the  whole  extent  three  acres,  a  great  contrast  now  to  what  it 
was  in  1850 — “  a  dark  and  clayey  cat  walk,”  so  “  Iloupehold  Words” 
described  it  then.  During  summer  the  beds  are  full  of  flowers,  and 
when  I  visited  it  in  July  many  white  butterflies  were  on  the  wing,  to  ‘ 
the  joy  of  the  children,  if  not  to  that  of  the  gardener.  Lastly,  amongst 
the  pioneer  gardens  we  must  mention  the  important  one  of  St.  Pancras, 
a  slice  of  which  was  taken  by  the  Midland  Railway,  which  has  recently  . 
threatened  another  portion.  A  hundred  years  ago  St.  Pancras  was 
only  a  village  church,  but  time  has  surrounded  it  with  busy  streets. 
With  the  addition  of  au  old  burying-ground  of  St.  Giles’s,  this  St. 
Pancras  garden  contains  nearly  seven  acre.s,  and  is  much  frequented. 
One  of  its  peculiarities  is  a  “dome ’’and  “trophy,”  composed  of 
hundreds  of  headstones  ;  elsewhere  I  have  seen  fragments  of  tfipin 
formed  into  rockeries. — J.  R.  S.  C. 
