74 
July  24,  1902. 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
Gardening  Among  the  Ancient  Romans. 
The  Romans  called  the  garden  “  hortus  ”  or  “  ortus,”  but 
they  gave  this  name  also  to  their  “  villas.”  As  such  is  the  case, 
it  may  be  interesting  to  give  some  idea  of  what  a  Roman  villa 
was.  The  place  in  question  appears  to  have  been  a.  nobleman’s 
country  seat,  where,  together  with  his  luxurious  gardens,  were 
quite  a  number  of  houses,  besides  the  family  residence,  for 
the  accommodation  of  slaves  and  other  servants  and  dependants. 
Also  the  stables,  farm  and  its  offices,  comprising  storehouses, 
bams,  graineries,  stockyards,  &c. 
Attaching  to  the  family  residence  itself  were  the  gardens, 
tennis  courts,  and  baths,  and  in  close  proximity  were  places  for 
rearing  hens,  geese,  hares,  rabbits,  ducks,  bees,  birds,  snails  (of 
which  the  Romans  were  very  fond),  and  many  other  similar 
places  with  things  and  animals,  which  contributed  both  to  the 
pleasure  and  utility  of  the  family’s  requirements.  Several 
acres  were  set  apart  as  a  park  for  deer  and  wild  beasts.  Besides 
there  was  the  piscina,  or  fish  pond.  This,  briefly,  is  something 
the  nature  of  what  was  termed  a  villa  and  sometimes  “  hortus.” 
It  will  be  seen  that  it  was  a  very  different  place  from  what  we 
understand  by  the  designation.  In  some  cases  the  “villa”  had 
more  the  appearance  of  a  modern  village  than  any  resemblance 
to  the  isolated  building  with  its  scanty  flower  pots  and  gilded 
railings  ornamenting  its  confined  frontage,  known  to  us  as  thp 
ordinary  villa  of  the  present  time. 
The  Romans  loved  their  gardens  more  superbly — passion¬ 
ately,  perhaps — than  we  do,  and  though  they  were  probably 
not  such  good  gardeners  as  ourselves,  they  brought  equally  as 
much  zeal  and  enthusiasm  into  their  art  and  operations. 
Indeed,  in  many  cases  they  brought  very  much  more.  If  the 
situation  was  deficient  in  a  supply  of  water  they  spared  no 
expense  to  bring  the  necessary  commodity  into  the  garden  in 
pipes  or  open  canals.  In  some  cases  the  water  supply  took  the 
form  of  a  considerable  stream,  which  was  called  “  nili.” 
The  various  references  in  the  Classics  to  those  centres  of 
grandeur  and  luxury  prove  that  the  pleasure  derived  from  a 
beautiful  garden  is  no  modern  thing,  and  that  the  Roman  was 
no  less  a  diligent  gardener  than  he  was  a  good  soldier.  If  we 
eliminate  the  fabulous  gardens  and  the  golden  Apples  of  the 
Hesperides,  Adonis,  and  Alcinous,  together  with  the  pensiles 
horti,  or  hanging  gardens  of  Cyrus  at  Babylon,  the  Classics 
still  afford  us  evidence  of  the  Roman’s  zeal  for  his  “  hortus.” 
There  were  no  less  than  eight  noted  gardens  within  the 
precincts  of  the  city  itself,  probably  no  mean  centres 
cf  the  art  as  then  practised.  Those  were  the  Horti 
Csesaris,  H.  Martialis,  H.  Lucelli,  H.  Neronis,  H.  Pompeii, 
H.  Salusti — this  was  the  garden  of  Sallust  the  historian,  and 
eventually  came  into  the  possession  of  the  Emperors — the  H. 
Senecse  and  H.  Tarquini  Superbi — said  to  have  been  the  oldest 
garden  in  the  city.  The  citizens,  too,  were  much  interested  in 
the  decorations  of  their  windows  with  flowers  and  plants. 
In  the  earlier  stages  of  the  art  of  gardening  the  “  Hortus 
Pinguis,”  or  what  is  equal  to  our  kitchen  garden,  engaged  the 
attention  of  the  Roman  people.  Here  was  cultivated  herbs, 
fruit  trees,  vegetables — such  as  Beans,  Peas,  Kidney  Beans, 
Lentils,  Lettuce,  Turnips — and  many  other  things.  It  is  note¬ 
worthy  to  observe  that  it  was  the  pods  or  siliquae  of  the  Turnips 
which  were  used.  Many  of  these  vegetables,  no  doubt,  would 
be  utilised  as  food  for  the  slaves,  and  probably  for  some  of  the 
many  animals  kept  by  those  people.  In  ordinary  cottage 
gardening  the  housewife  was  the  gardener,  and  then,  as  now, 
her  capacities  for  regulating  the  order  of  the  interior  of  the 
domicile  was  inferred  from  the  taste  she  displayed  in  the  order 
and  cleanliness  of  the  garden. 
Later  in  the  history  of  the  Romans,  and  as  they  advanced 
in  refinement  and  grew  wealthy  with  spoil  imported  from  sub¬ 
jugated  nations,  the  “  Hortus  Pinguis,”  gave  way  to  a  more 
luxurious  and  ornamental  style  of  gardening.  This  consisted 
very  much  of  enclosures  with  arbours,  walks  with  overhanging 
trees,  evergreens,  and  statues  here  and  there  interspersed. 
The  cultivation  of  evergreens  was  carried  on  to  a  pitch  which 
was  at  once  grotesque  and  fantastic.  These  were  trimmed  into 
all  manner  of  forms  and  shapes,  the  art  of  which  was  called 
“  opus  topiarum.” 
Outside  the  garden  proper  was  another  place  of  no  less 
beauty,  and  which  corresponds  to  our  pleasure  grounds.  It  was 
called  the  “  Ambulacra,”  and  was  more  extensive  than  the 
garden,  having  beautiful  shady  walks  traversing  it.  Here  also 
was  a  place  set  apart  for  the  exercising  of  the  manly  sports  that 
the  Roman  people  delighted  so  much  in  practising. 
The  Olitor  of  the  Romans,  notwithstanding  all  this  show  of 
grandeur  and  increasing  development  in  his  art,  as  far  as  can  be 
seen  was  a  slave.  And  though  his  ingenuity  must  have  been 
considerable  in  perfecting  the  operations  of  the  topiary,  as  well 
as  promoting  the  no-  less  entrancing  mysteries  of  the  graft  and 
scion,  there  is  little  to  evidence  that  any  of  his  efforts  were 
honourably  rewarded  with  a  call  to  the  dignity  of  the  higher 
offices. — D.  C.  H. 
Dream  Faces  in  Coronation  Pansies. 
I  have  always  held  there  is  more  than  appears  at  first  sight 
in  the  many  visaged  little  modesties  of  our  gardens ;  not  that 
they  are  all  modest  by  any  means  as  I  hope  to  show  by-and-by. 
And  this  Coronation  year  I  am  all  the  more  convinced  of  it  as 
the  aspects  of  my  favourites  seem  more  defined  and  individual 
than  ever  before.  The  whole  tribe  is,  in  fact.,  an  absolute  study, 
and  if  carefully  read,  you  can  see  not  only  their  present  but  even 
their  past  and  future!  There  are  virtuous  and  vicious  ones, 
modest  and  assertive  ones,  happy  and  unhappy  ones,  cruel  and 
kind  ones,  laughing  and  grave  ones  ;  and  this  year  of  grace,  full 
of  hope  and  pregnant  with  possibilities,  there  is  also  positively  a 
distinct  set  of  royal  ones,  headed  by  an  impossible-to-be-mis- 
taken  king  and  queen  of  exceeding  beauty. 
For  the  most  part  I  am  bound  to  confess  my  floral  impersona¬ 
tions  represent  the  fair  sex,  but  by  no  means  invariably.  More¬ 
over,  now  and  again  some  special  subject  is  represented  and  that 
in  a  peculiarly  vivid  manner.  No  one,  for  instance,  walking 
round  my  borders  could  fail  to  note  my  “  silver  lining  to  every 
cloud  ”  one,  a  Pansy  of  striking  beauty  and  of  very  dignified 
bearing;  neither  would  one  pass  in  silence  my  “Sunset,”  though 
there  are  really  two  of  these,  one  where  the  scene  is  lurid  and 
stormy  but  highly  majestic,  and  the  other  of  a  much  calmer 
type.  But  let  us  take  a  promenade,  and  we  shall  meet,  I  trow, 
with  much  of  interest,  and  make  some  pleasant  acquaintances,  I 
trust.  Rather  appropriately,  almost  the  first  we  come  to  repre¬ 
sents  “  Dawn,”  a  pale  centre  with  a  darker  outline,  which  pro¬ 
mises  to  merge  entirely  into  the  former,  and  with  a  suspicion 
of  the  sun  appearing  on  the  horizon  in  the  guise  of  a  narrow 
streak  of  yellow  on  its  extreme  tip.  Skipping  two  or  three 
groups  of  more  or  less  insignificance,  especially  a  rather 
obnoxious  one  with  “  Street  Arab  ”  plainly  delineated  in  their 
features,  we  come  to  an  unmistakeable  “  Sunrise,”  and  a  rather 
gorgeous  one  at  that ;  the  whole  surface  of  the  flower  being 
bathed  in  a  warm  red  glow.  And  now  we  are  well  floated  on  our 
enterprise,  and  getting,  so  to  speak,  out  into  the  swim. 
Though  rather  bewildering,  we  must,  pull  ourselves  together 
and  discriminate,  or  we  shall  get  into  difficulties,  for  some  of 
our  friends  are  extremely  capricious,  while  others  are  suscep¬ 
tible  to  a  degree,  and  most  particular  as  to  whom  they  repre¬ 
sent.  Who  is  this  exceeding  shy  and  diffident  looking  little 
thing  in  almost  pure  white — petite  also,  and  surely  nothing  like 
full  grown?  Neither  is  she.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  sweet  little 
maiden  not  very  long  promoted  to  the  schoolroom.  Rather  a 
contrast  to  her  neighbour,  who  is  clearly  a  dowager,  and  a 
haughty  one,  too.  Somewhat  overdressed,  many  would  say,  and 
her  rich  velvet  is  rather  qf  a  flashy  hue,  albeit  of  an  evidently 
costly  fabric.  Close  by,  also,  is  another  smart  lady,  all  very  fine 
and  large,  to  use  a  vulgarism ;  anyhow,  of  ample  proportions, 
and  in  this  case  in  low  dress.  Her  gown,  a  purple  one,  is  a 
good  foil  to  the  whiteness  of  her  neck  and  arms.  But  whoever 
is  this?  A  politician,  I  shrewdly  guess;  he  has  a  slight  stoop, 
with  a  distinguished,  clever  face ;  and  hard  by,  apparently  talk¬ 
ing  to'  the  former,  is  a  diplomatist  of  erect  carriage  and  keen 
eagle  eyes  which  appear  to  look  right  through  you.  “  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  ”  comes  next,  the  two  blues  blending  in  admir¬ 
ably  together,  as  only  Nature’s  own  colours  can,  and  rather 
appropriately,  not  a  yard  off,  our  dear  old  “Eton,”  or  as  near 
the  hue  as  a  Pansy  is  ever  likely  to  obtain.  And  here  we  come 
to  a  whole  bevy  of  fair  ones.  They  are  fluttering  about  and 
seem  rather  excited  ;  possibly  some  “  mere  man  ”  has  been  tell¬ 
ing  them  that  in  the  Caucasus  they  bury  their  sisters  deeper 
than  the  other  sex  because  of  their  inherent  restlessness,  and  I 
rather  think  this  may  have  flustered  the  pretty  dears. 
They  are  pretty,  too,  and  there’s  no  denying  it.  The  nearest 
is  a  delicate-looking  blonde,  next  to  her  on  the  off  side  is  a 
peculiarly  sweet-looking  girl,  surely  still  in  her  teens,  and 
slightly  blushing,  apparently ;  a  great  contrast  to  the  one 
immediately  behind  her,  a  pale  beauty  of  a  very  distinct  type, 
and  who,  in  her  turn,  is  quite  different  to  another  on  her  right, 
who  possesses  a  somewhat  distressingly  rubicund  complexion, 
and  suffers  a  trifle  from  embonpoint.  A  taller  one  in  the  same 
group  has  a  more  pleasing  appearance  from  having  the  “red” 
more  favourably  placed.  “  The  cherrie  of  her  lips  ”  is  indeed 
extremely  becoming,  and  I  think  so  deems  that  rather  dis¬ 
tinguished-looking  gentleman  of  unquestionably  blue  blood,  not 
ten  paces  distant.  What  a  pity  life  is  such  a  mixture,  but  it  is 
ever  so!  Here  is  rather  a  horrid  person  to  be  about.  I  much 
fear  she  has  been  drinking.  Just  look  at  her  face,  it  is  all 
blotchy.  Let  us  hurry  on  and  inspect  these  jolly  little  school¬ 
girls.  They  look  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long.  Altogether  a 
ripping  little  crew!  Naughty  creatures,  they  are  laughing  at 
a  boy  of  about  their  own  age,  who  happens  to  be  endowed  by 
nature  with  a  moon  face. 
And,  talking  of  the  latter,  on  exactly  the  opposite  border 
there  is  a  real  “Moon,”  mysterious,  cold,  and  rather  awe-in¬ 
spiring,  but  beautiful  withal.  A  step  or  two  beyond  that 
clump  of  Sweet  Peas  just  opening  their  sweetness  (I  was  going 
