State College of Agriculture At Cornell Gnibersity Uthaca, 32. B. Librarp EIBRARY FLORICULTURE DEPARTMENT CORNE!LL UNPERSHY ITHAC., NEW YORK Cornell University Library SB 485.P24R65 The parks, promenades, & gardens of Pari Cornell University The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924002815391 Visstade. wt ie = foe va pies ae Fo s 4 : ae i L TSULMAN FOUNTAIN IN THE GARDEN OF THE LUXEMBOURG, THE APPLE TRAINED AS A CORDON. THE PARKS, PROMENADES & GARDENS OF PARIS DESCRIBED AND CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO THE WANTS OF OUR OWN CITIES AND OF PUBLIC AND PRIVATE GARDENS. By W. ROBINSON, F.L.S. CORRESPONDENT OF THE “TIMES’’ FOR THE HORTICULTURAL DEPARTMENT OF THE GREAT PARIS EXHIBITION, MUSHROUM CULTURE IN SUBTERRANEAN QUAHRIES. WITH UPWARDS OF FOUR HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS. LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 186). CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE THE CHAMPS ELYSEES AND THE GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND TUE TULLEUTES: ig go wi GS Bae oe we we we Ye woe a TD CHAPTER II. THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE AND THE BOIS DE VINCENNES. . .. . 18 GARDEN OF ACCLIMATIZATION IN THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. . « 32 WATERING THE PARKS. . . 2... 1 we we ee we ee BT CHAPTER III. THE PARC MONCEAU . . . ws ee ee . . . 48 CHAPTER IV. THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. . ....... «ow D9 CHAPTER V. THE JARDIN DES PLANTES AND THE GARDENS OF THE LUXEMBOURG 638 CHAPTER VI. THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. . .. . y = $2 THE SQUARE DES BATIGNOLLES. . ... . ‘ . 91 THE SQUARE DE MONTROUGE ....*° .. . sa 95 THE SQUARE DU TEMPLE. . ....... ee . . 96 THE SQUARE DES ARTS ET METIERS . ........-. 98 THE PLACE ROYALE. . 2. 1 1 6 es et tt th ee « 99 THE SQUARE DES INNOCENTS. . .. -.. +. +. +... . 100 THE SQUARE DE LA CHAPELLE EXPIATOIRE DE LOUIs xvl.. . . . 100 THE SQUARE DE BELLEVILLE. . . . ..- +. ss + - 100 THE SQUARE MONTHOLON.. . . . ee ee ee ee eh LOL THE SQUARE LOUVOIS . . 1. 6 6 ee we ew ee ee we we oe LOL THE SQUARE VINTIMILLE . . . «© + - + e+ ee » . . 108 CHURCH GARDENS AND CEMETERIES . ......+ +... . 104 CHAPTER VIL. THE “BOULEVARDS: se) we a es OS ee Se ee ae a BATHING . . wh ge gees ge ee. see 28> AS at! Yee . . 136 v1 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE THE JARDIN FLEURISTE AND OTHER PUBLIC NURSERIES OF THE CITY OROPARIS oo ce a ho, = ese gk ed og ede eee ee BD THE PUBLIC NURSERIES FOR TREES, SHRUBS, AND HARDY FLOWERS . 155 CHAPTER Ix. TREES FOR CITY PARKS, AVENUES, GARDENS, STREETS, ETC. . . . 159 A SELECTION OF THE BEST TREES AND SHRUBS FOR CITIES . . . 165 CHAPTER X. SUBTROPICAL PLANTS FOR THE FLOWER GARDEN . . .. . . . 182 A SELECT LIST OF 100 OF THE SUBTROPICAL PLANTS BEST SUITED FOR USE IN OUR CLIMATE. . . 1 + 6 © ee ew ew ee 208 LIST OF THE BEST TWENTY-FOUR SUBTROPICAL PLANTS. . . . . 208 SUBTROPICAL PLANTS THAT MAY BE RAISED FROM SEED. . . . . 209 CHAPTER XI. HARDY PLANTS FOR THE SUBTROPICAL GARDEN ...... . 210 LIST OF HARDY HERBACEOUS AND ANNUAL PLANTS, ETC., OF FINE HABIT, WORTHY OF EMPLOYMENT IN THE FLOWER GARDEN OR PLEASURE GROUND, . . 2. - 1. 1 1 ew ew ew ew ee O37 LIST OF HARDY PLANTS OF FINE HABIT, THAT MAY BE RAISED FROM SEED Wo i Gow wg OE Se WM we we ee ew 68S CHAPTER XII. VERSAITERS 5. Ge wo we RR ce RS ww Se Re ee, oy 98D: FONTAINEBLEAU, AND THE GLADIOLUS GROUNDS OF M. SOUCHET. . 251 THE GARDENS OF ST, CLOUD. . . ... . . . ew ee, O59 MEUDON 6.0 oop Se eo lee ae ee ee ee VEO CHAPTER XIII. THE PLANT DECORATION OF APARTMENTS . . ..... . . . 262 REFORM IN THE CONSERVATORY. . . . ..... ss. e . 280 PALMS? ig 5) 25-9 et RO Ge Se ee ce we OG THE IVY AND ITS USES IN PARISIAN GARDENS. . . . . . . . 305 CHAPTER XIV. FRUIT CULTURE: HOW ARE WE TO IMPROVE? . . . . . . . . 319 CHAPTER XV. THE CORDON SYSTEM OF FRUIT GROWING ....., . . , 334 THE PARADISE, DOUCIN, AND CRAB STOCKS. . .. . . . , , 355 THE PEAR AS A CORDON... ew. ew ee ew BBD THE PEACH AS A CORDON. . . ........., 366 THE SHORT PINCHING SYSTEM ATTLIED TO THE PEACH. . . . , 369 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. TRAINING . . 1 6 ew THE PALMETTB VERRIER . . 2 6 1 ee ee ee PYRAMIDAL TRAINING OF THE PEAR TREE CHAPTER XVII. FIG CULTURE IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF PARIS . . . .. ss. PRESERVING GRAPES TUROUGIL THE WINTER WITHOUT LETTING THEM HANG ON THE VINES. . 2. 6 2 ew we we ew ew ew THE CULTURE OF THE VINE AT TIHOMERY CHAPTER XVIII. THE IMPERIAL FRUIT AND FORCING GARDENS AT VERSAILLES. . . THE NEW FRUIT GARDEN OF THE CITY OF PARIS IN THE BOIS DE VINCENNES . 2. + 2 6 © 6 so ey CHAPTER XIX. THE PEACH GARDENS OF MONTREUIL. . . CHAPTER XX. THE MARKET GARDENS OF PARIS . . ... . CHAPTER XXI. MUSHROOM CULTURE . . «1. 1 6 + es we wee : 33 ae IN CELLARS AND IN THE OPEN AIR . . . CHAPTER XXII. THE CULTURE OF SALADS... . ee ee CHAPTER XXIII. ASPARAGUS CULTURE .« . 2 «© © © «© © «© © «© © © PREPARATION OF THE GROUND . . «© © 6 © © © «© 6 CHAPTER XXIV. OBSERVATIONS ON SOME OF THE VEGETABLES or THE PARIS MARKET CULTURE OF THE SMALL CARROT . . «© © «© © 6 «© e© « THE CARDOON. . - © 6 © + © © © © © © 8 #8 8 ene FORCING THE CAULIFLOWER . 2. 1 ee ee ee eet THE SWEET POTATO . «ee ee ee eH eee EARLY POTATOES . 6-6 ee ee He eee OLEANDER CULTURE. .« «© - 6 © © © © © © © 8 ee ee CULTURE OF THE ORANGE «. « - © eo 6 © 8 #6 8 ee ee SHOWING ROSES IN FRANCE. «© © «© © © © © © © © © © we FORCING THE WHITE LILAC . . «© © 6 © © © © © © 2 © 433 440 462 472 48 4 489 501 506 . 515 520 522 524 525 . 527 528 531 535 537 ose vill CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXV. PAGE FLOWER, FRUIT, AND VEGETABLE MARKETS . . . . 2. e + 539 LIST OF PLACES IN WHICH THE MORE INSTRUCTIVE FEATURES OF PRACTICAL HORTICULTURE MAY BE SEEN . . . ... « 545 THE CLIMATES OF PARIS AND LONDON COMPARED. . . . . . « 548 CHAPTER XXVI. HORTICULTURAL MACHINES, IMPLEMENTS, APPLIANCES, ETC. . . . 551 TRANSPLANTING LARGE TREES . . . . . . . ee ee ~ » OSL CARRIAGE FOR TRANSPORTING ORANGE TREES . . . . . . . . 561 TRUCK FOR TUBS OR VERY LARGE POTS... ..... «- « 562 TUBS FOR ORANGE TREES, ETC... ., . «6. . e ee ee ee 568 GARDEN CIIAIRS AND SEATS . . . 1 1 ee ee ee ee 563 GRAFTING MASTIC . ... . ay, 08 os oti > « » 005 IMPROVED FRUIT SHELVES. . . - 1 we ote he Ay Gee e668 DRYING FRUIT ROOMS . . ........42. 2. - . 566 THE PANIER . . . . a ae . 567 PLOUGHSHOE: «ae ane 2 ee ae me Oe ew ee @ BOS THEMBINETTE. i.) ih cee 3 ee we Oe Ot ee oe BOS. FRAMES FOR FORCING . . . . .. 4. : bee sete 568 MATS FOR COVERING PITS AND FRAMES . te GN, byt ~ « . 569 THE NUMEROTEUR . 2 ee 1 1 1 ee ew we ew ww we BZD THE ‘SECATEUR: ( gex- gw) Ok Gey ee we ae ete . 574 THE RAIDISSEUR. . ... 6. 1 6 ep ew ew ew ew ee . 576 MATERIAL FOR TYING PLANTS . . . .. .. ww. ee BIO PROTECTION FOR WALL AND ESPALIER TREES . . . Z - . 582 SHADING FOR CONSERVATORIES . . . 2... www we 586 ATTACHING WIRE TO GARDEN-WALLS, TRELLISING, ETC.. . . . . 587 EDGINGS FOR PARKS, PUBLIC GARDENS, SQUARES, DRIVES, ETC. . . 593 THE CLOCHE ... OM SY aa, Roache eds Meas oe e506 CHAPTER XXVII, NOTES OF A HORTICULTURAL TOUR THROUGH PARTS OF FRANCE. . , 600 LMONS = se Beh dh, seeaer Map bh tees ab ee Oe oa ee, - . 600 L’ECOLE REGIONALE DE LA SAULSAIE . . . . . , , . . 604 DION! ey ceo ac ee a RS RB a we a . . 609 ANGERS 3 Ge gs Soa OR a we bow ee ee ae ee, 610 NANTES! ee ee Gg Bh BYR A Se BR os & - 613 ROUEN ca eR AOR RO ae ae se oe . 614 TROYES. 2... 1. S dati WS cam ain. gs CAR 2 GLO BOURG-LA-REINE. 2. 1. 1. Ny, i owe te ly & » « 693 BOBAUNS BG ee oo) ken) ae Se ae ce . 628 CHATILLON, FONTENAY AUX ROSES. . oe hey ee a "S a a O28 SUISNES. 2 8 6 & © 4s ; - ate ee 2a 5 ~ « « 699 BRUNOY. . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. FIG. 1. EVENING CONCERT in the Champs Elysées 2. Circus in the gardens of the Champs Elysées 3. Avenues radiating from the Place de |'Etoile 4, L’Arc de Triomphe du Car- rousel. . 5. Plan of small gardens i in the Place Napoleon JII. . . 6. Statue of Winter in the Tuileries gardens 7. The Rhone and the Saone in the Tuileries gardens . 8. Group in the Tuileries gar- dens . . 9. One of the small lakes in the Bois de Boulogne . . Grand Cascade in the Bois de Boulogne . Winter scene on the lake i in the Bois de Boulogne . . Cisterns for receiving heavy rains from the drives of the Bois de Boulogne . . . Ostriches in theJardind’Ac- climatation . . Streamletin theJardind’ hae climatation . Conservatory in the Jardin d’Acclimatation é . Restaurant in the Bois de Vincennes - Section of perforated self acting hose on wheels . . Hose on wheels with double row of perforations. . Hose on wheels for watering roads, ete. . ‘ Details of the preceding figure . . Hose allowed to play on the grass, etc. . 2, Plants isolated on the grass PAGE FIG. 23. 24, 25. 26. 27. 28. 29 30. 31. 382. 33 34, 35. 30. 37. 38. 39. 40, Al. 42, 43. 44. 45, 46. 47. 48. PAGE Plants isolated on the grass 53 ” ” ’ 54 Plan of garden eee Conservatories and Mu- seums in the Jardin des Plantes . . 68 Aquatic birds in the a ardin des Plantes . 5 69 Animals in the Jardin “des Plantes . . 69 Cedar planted by Jussieu in the Jardin des Plantes . 70 Plan of the Jardin des Plantes .. 71 The Amphitheatre in ‘the Jardin des Plantes . 76 Plan of the Luxembourg garden as recently altzred 78 Portion of the plan of a Parisian square. . 82 Portion of the plan of a Parisian square. . 91 The Square des Batignolles 93 The Square du Temple . 97 Children at play in the Square des Arts et Métiers 98 The Piace Royale 99 Square and Fountain Lou- vois.. 101 View in the garden “of ‘the Palais des Thermes 102 ‘Che Square and Church of St. Clothil ie. - 105 The Cemetery Montmartre. 109 The Catacombs . . . . 110 Paris seven hundred years ago. . 118 View on the old exterior Boulevards . . . . 119 Avenue Victoria, near “the Hotel de Ville . . . . 121 End view of the Boulevard Richard Lenoir 122 Place du Trone . . 1238 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. FIG. PAGE 49, Avenue de Breteuil: the artesian well of Grenelle, and the Invalides . 50. Interior of a floating bath onthe Seine. . .« 136 51. Glass-covered corridor “be: tween the plant-houses in the Jardin Fleuriste 148 52. Plan of glass-houses in the Jardin Fleuriste . 144 58. Propagating house in the Jardin Fleuriste . . 145 54, Propagating pot used in the Jardin Fleuriste . . . 146 55. Small cutting-pots under bell-glass in the Jardin Fleuriste . 146 56. Shelves for storing bedding plants in the Jardin Fleuriste. . . 147 57. End view of bedding- plant houses in the Jardin Fleu- riste . . 2. . . . . 149 58, Plan of the bedding-plant houses in the Jardin Fleu- riste . . « 150 59. Caves under the ‘Jardin Fleuriste. . . . . 152 60. Sophora japonica var. pen- dula . . . » 6 « 168 61. Variegated ‘Agave » « . 186 62, Aralia papyvifera . . 187 63. Asplenium nidus-avis . . 189 64, Caladium esculentum . 190 65. Colocasia odorata A 191 66. Cannanigricans . . . 192 67. Cannaatro-nigricans . . 193 68. Ficus elastica. . . 196 69. Monstera deliciosa 197 70. Nicotiana wigandioides . 199 71. Polymnia grandis . 200 72. Solanum Warscewiczii. . 203 73. Solanum robustum . . 204 74, Uhdea bipinnatifida. . . 205 75. Wigandia macrophylla . . 207 76. Acanthus latifolius . . . 211 77. Aralia Sieboldi . . 218 78. Bambusa aurea . 216 79. Centaurea babylonica 218 80. Chamerops excelsa . 219 81. Ferulacommunis. . 222 82. Gynerium argenteum 224 83, Heracleum flavescens 226 84, Melianthus major 7 227 85. Nicotiana macrophylla . 228 86. Rheum Emodi_ . » + 230 87. Anemone japonica alba, . 233 88. Yucca pendula - 235 89. Yucca filamentosavariegata 236 FIG. PAGE 90. Statice latifolia . . . - 236 91. The Tapis Vert, Versailles . 246 92, One of the statues on the upper terrace . .- - 248 93. Temple de l’Amour in “the gardens of the Petit Tria- non. 249 94, View in the garden. of the Petit Trianon . 250 95. Canal in the gardens of Fontainebleau . . . 251 96, View in the Forest of Fon- tainebleau . . « . 252 97. The Courteliére . . . « 254 98. The Ver blanc . . 255 99. A French ideal of tree- beauty . . . « + « 259 100. Meudon . . ..~ ~ - 260 101. Maranta fasciata. . . . 268 102. Draceena terminalis. . . 264 1038. Syeeccahyen Verschaf- felti . . « 265 104. Dieffenbachia seguina macu- lata. < « « 266 105, Alocasia metallica a) gra Os 106. Aichmea fulgens. . . «~ 268 107. Caladium argyrites . . 269 108. Caladium mirabile . . . 270 109. Pteris cretica albo-lineata . 271 110. Begonia dedalia. . . . 272 111. Maranta rosea-picta. . . 278 112. Dieffenbachia Baraquiniana 274 113. Gesnera cinnabarina. . . 275 114. Saxifro.a Fortuneivariegata 276 115. Maranta vittata . 2... 277 116. Tillandsia splendens. . . 278 117. Maranta zebrina . 279 118. Pandanus javanicus varie- gatus. . * « « 279 119, Cordyline indivisa - 281 120, Tree Fern for conservatory 282 121. Polypodium morbillosum . 283 122. Blechnum brasiliense . 284 123. Theophrasta rales a . 285 124. Cycas circinalis . . 287 125. Alsophila . . . . . 289 126. Goniophlebium . . . . 290 127. Testudinaria elephantipes . 291 128. Maranta micans. . . . 298 129. Caladium ~ 298 130. Ananassa sativa variegata - 298 131. Chameedorea latifolia. . . 29% 132. Seaforthia elegans. » 298 133. Cary) ota sobolifera . 805 134. Railings covered with Ivy . 30( 135. Ivy edgings in geouetrical garden. . 136. Section of circular bow er of IrishIvy . . . TIG. 187. 138. 139 140. 141. 142. 148. 144. 145. 146. 147, 148. 149. 150. 151. 152. 153. 154, 155. 156, 157, 158. 159. 160. 161. 162. 163. 164. 165, 166, LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. x PAGE Variegated Ivy in suspen- sion basket j Ivy screen for the drawing- room . Young line ‘of sel-support ing Pear Trees. : The Apple trained as a Simple Horizontal Cordon 334 Tree with horizontal branches 335 The Simple Honzoniat Cor- don. . 336 The Cordon on wall of plant- house . 387 ee Cordon « of the Lady le. . 338 The Bilateral Cordon. . 339 Reinette du Canada trained as a Cordon . . 840 Edging of simple Cordons . 341 Grafting by approach to unite the points of horizon- tal Cordous . 842 Another mode of gr afting to unite the Cordons 8 The horizontal Cordon train- ed as an edging . Border in front of fruit wall with two lines of horizontal Cordons Peach wall and border with five lines of Cordons . 853 Double espalier of Pears with three lines of Cordon Apples on each side . 353 Simple wooden support for Cordon. . . . 854 Iron support for Cordon with ratchet wheel at top. 354 Iron support for Cordon let into stone . . 854 Pear Tree trained as a ver- tical Cordon . . . 359 The Pear as a simple oblique Cordon, 1st year . 360 Oblique Cordon Pear, 2nd year. . Oblique Cordon Pear, 3rd year. . Oblique Cordon Pear, Ath year. - 362 The Pear as an oblique . 360 . 361 Cordon. . 363 Pear tree trained ‘in ri form . 3864 The spiral ‘Cordon against walls. » 2» 865 The spiral Cordon’ 366 Peach tree trained as an ob- lique Cordon, Ist year. . 867 FI@. 167. Peach tree trained as an ob- lique Cordon, 2nd year . 367 168. Peach tree with three branches, a different va- riety grafted on each . . 369 169, Peach shoot of the current year bearing a number of secondary shoots . . . 370 Portion of shoot of Peach tree. . . 371 Result of pinching the ‘sti- pulary leaves. . The Palmette Verrier, 2nd pruning. The Palmette Verrier, 3rd pruning . « 875 The Palmette Vie, ‘4th pruning . . 875 The Palmette Verrier, bth pruning .. - 376 Palmette Verrier with weakly outer branch com- pleted by grafting . . . 877 Pyramidal Pear tree . . 3879 Pyramidal Pear tree, first pruning . anges oe 1 OO. Top of young Pear tree. . 380 Pyramidal Pear tree, second pruning. . . . 38l Leading shoot of Pear tree . 381 Old leadin:s shoot barked and used as a stake . . 882 Pruning to obtain properly placed leading shoot . 882 Incisions made to regulate shoots . . Pyramidal Pear tree, third pruning . . 383 Grafting by approach, to cover bare spaces on pe midal trees Grafting by approach as ‘ap- plied to wall und Espalier trees. . Pyramidal Pear tree, fourth pruning Pyramidal Pear ree) fifth pruning . Figure theoretically indi- cating the mode of form- inga pyramidal Pear tree 387 Young pyramidal Pear tree 387 Pyramidal Pear tree with bent branches . . 388 Pyramidal Pear tree, re- grafted. . ote w= 889) 194, Wall Pear tree regrafted . 390 195. Pear tree trained in the columnar form . . . 391 PAGI 170. 171, 172, 173. 174. 175. 176. 375 177. 178. 179. 180. 181. 182. 183. 184, 382 185. 186. . 384 187. 384 188, . 385 189. . 386 190. 191. 192. 193 . Stem of Fig the sixth year . Vines trained ver' rtically with LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE . Pendulous training of wall Pear tree . 392 . Grafting of fruit ‘buds and shoots. . 393 . Grafting of fruit buds and shoots. . . 893 . Grafting of fruit buds ‘and . 393 shoots . . Grafting of frait buds and shoots . . - 893 Grafting of fruit buds and shoots . . 393 . Proper modeof cutting shoot 394 » Shoot cut too long . 394 . Shoot cut too low. . 894 . Pear shoot properly pinched 394 . Pear shoot pinched tvo short 394 . Result of over-pinching . - 894 . Another result of over- pinching . 894 I. Finching” of the boungeon . 394 anticipé . Stipulary buds forced. to start. . 2 . 894 - Branch of Fig tree - 896 . Fig tree growing on level ground. . . 897 Section showing Fig tree growing on level ground . 398 . Mode of burying Fig trees cultivated on level ground 399 . Fig tree planted on sloping ground. . Section showing Fig tree planted on inclined ground 401 . Fig tree planted on sloping ground, buried for the winter months - 401 after planting 402 . Fig branch with young fruit 402 . Branch of Fig tree atter the gathering of the crop . . 403 Branch of Fig tree after the gathering of the crop. . 404 Thomery mode of fixing bottles — for preserving Grapes through winter . 407 . Ferritres mode of fixing bottles for preserving Grapes through winter . 407 . Portion of uprivht used in Grape-room at Ferritres . 407 - Interior of Grape-room. , 409 G, WallofChaseelagat Thoniery 413 . Rose-Charmeux’s system of vertical training . 414 alternated spurs . » . 414 FIG. 229, 230. 231. 232. . Low Espalier . Layer of Vine raised and . Moveable scaffold used for . Small pit used for forcing . Trellis for Pear trees. . Double _ trellis PAGE Low double Espalier . . 415 Sections of top of wall at Thomery . . « . 415 Sulphur distributor em- ployed at Thomery . . 416 Pruning to obtain the two arms of the Cordon . . 416 of Vines trained vertically . 417 planted in basket thinning the Grapes . 418 . Shade to protect Grape- thinners from strong sun . 419 . Frame for carrying baskets of Grapes to store-rooms . 419 . Mode of Grafting the Vine at Thomery . 420 . Mode of Grafting the V Vine by approach at Thomery . 420 . Gouge used in grafting the Vine 420 the Vine. . 421 . Small span- “roofed house for 422 . 427 Pear . 429 forcing the Vine . . for trees . . Section of protection used for Espalier trees at Ver- sailles. . . . 431 246. Side view of protection to double line of Espaliers . 431 247, Border of superimposed Cordons at Versailles. . 432 248. Section of preceding. « 433 249. Plan of fruit garden . . 484 250. Galvanized iron bracket for Supporting tennpOEey. coping . 436 251. Fruit tree in ‘the vase form 3 . 437 252. Pear trained in vase form . 438 253. Early spring aspect of Peach wall in the garden of M. Chevallier F 441 254. Leaf of Peach tree attacked by the Cloque . 442 255. Peach shoot attacked by the Cloque . . 442 256. Small wooden coping to pro- tect young Peach trees in spring. . 443 257. Second pruning of fruiting Peach branch . . . 444 258. Mode of shading the stems of fruit trees . 445 ee . View in Mushroom Cave . Newly made Mushroom beds submitted to year’ s pruning the third . 446 . Pruning to replace old fi wit- spur . Result of preceding opera: tion... . 447 . The Napoleon Peach tree . 448 . Peach trees trained to form their owner’s name « 447 419 . Spring aspect of fruit garden formed by M. Leptre. . 451 - Mode of pruning to cover bare spaces on the branches of Peach trees, Ist year . 452 Result of preceding opera- tion, 2nd year , 452 A Summer management of the « 453 453 Peach. . ‘ . Shoot of Peach . Peach tree trained horizon- tally . . 454 if Disbudding of the ‘Peach, second year. . 455 . Disbudding of the ‘Peach, second year . 455 . Grafting by approach. to furnish bare spaces on branches of the Peach tree Multiple grafting by ap- proach to furnish bare spaces on the stems of Peach trees . s @ SOT Details of Figs. 272 and 213) ye as eo . 458 Nail basket. 458 456 . Peach trained in the “double U form . Peach trained int the “double U form . . Pump used in the market gardens of Paris . Water pot used by “the market gardeners of Paris . Mouth of Mushroom Cave at Montrouge Entrance to subterranean quarry » Plan of large | subterranean quarry Section following the line C D in preceding figure . . Extracting the stone in sub- terranean quarries . . View in old subterranean quarries devoted to Mush- room culture 483 484 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, Xil . PAGE rie, PAGE . Fruiting branch of Peach 288. Mushroom bed on _ shelf against wall of cellar. . 485 289. Pyramidal Mushroom bed on floor of cellar « 485 290. Mushrooms grownin bottom of old cask 3 486 291. Four plants of the Lettuce Petite Noire under the Cloche . 490 292. Sloping bed for three rows of Cloches 491 293. Diagram showing the ‘dif. ferent stages of J.ettuce culture under the Cloche. 493 294, Figure showing annual earthings given to Aspa- ragus . - 503 295. Figure showing mode of planting Asparagus 507 296. Common mode of forming an Asparagus plantation . 508 297. Preparation for forcing As- paragus . 513 298. Mode of tying-up the Car. doon for blanching . . 523 299, Early Potatoes arranged for “sprouting” indoors , , 527 300. The flower market at the Madeleine » 543 301. Tree-lifting machine ; side elevation . 552 302. Plan of tree- lifting machine 553 308. Tree-lifting machine: back view . - . 554 304. Tree- -lifting machine : front view . 555 305. Trunk of lar, ge tree recently planted enveloped in moss and canvas 7 557 306. Small machineforlifting spe- cimen shrubs and Conifers 559 307. Screw used in preparing specimens for removal as shown in preceding figure 560 308. Bar of carriage for trans- 309. 310. 311. 312. 313. 314, 315. 316. 317. porting Orange trees . . 561 Carriage for “transporting Orange trees . . . . 562 Truck for moving plants . 562 Tub for Orange trees . 563 Garden chair oe 563 Seat with box for climbing plants. . . 564 seat with tent- dike shade . 564 Portion of Pear stand at Ferritres . . 566 Upright for Pear ‘stands 566 Position of fruit on Pear stand. . . . - 566 x1vV LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. FIG. PAGE FIG, PAG. 318. Arrangement for using chlo- 348, Trellis for young trees in ride of calcium . . . . 567 nurseries . . . 59% 319. Panier . . : - 567 | 349. Edgings for parksand public 320. The plough hoe - » « 568 gardens . 594 321. The Binette z 568 | 350. Edgings for parksand public 822. Narrow frames used by, the gardens . « « 595 market gardeners of Paris 569 | 351. Edgings for parks and public 623. Frame for making straw gardens . . . . « « 595 mats . . . 570 | 852. The Cloche . . . . .« 596 324, Frame covered with neat 353. 4 Re naan «O84 straw mat . . . 571 | 354. ~ + 597 825. The Numéroteur. . . . 573 | 355. The Cloche in the "propa- 826. The Sécateur Vauthier. . 575 gatinghouse. . . . . 598 827. The Sécateur Lecointe . 576 | 356. Winged Pear tree . 617 328, The common Sécateur . 576 | 857. Plan of preceding figure . 618 329. The Raidisseur 577 | 358. Name formed by Pear trees 621 830. Key of Raidisseur ‘ 577 | 359. Pear induced to emit its 331. Collignon’s Raidisseur . 577 ownroots . . . - 622 832. Side view of preceding . . 578 | 360. Resultof preceding operation 622 333. Raidisseur used in the gar- 361. Plan of fruit garden. . . 626 den of the Exhibition. . 578 | 362, Pear tree shown at the 334. The simplest and best form Exhibition . . 627 of Raidisseur . . 579 | 863. Walk arched over with 835. Sparganium ramosum . . 581 fruit trees. - 628 336. Mode of protecting walls . 582 | 364. Simple mode of supporting 337. <5 583 Espalier tree . . 629 338. Double Espalier se Sas 584 | 365. Details of the preceding 629 339. Wall protected with wide: 366. . 629 temporary coping and can- 367. View in fruit garden - » 630 vascurtains. . . . 585 | 368. Planof Espalier . . . 630 340, Mode of fixing iron support 586 | 369. Monogram formed by fruit 841. Lath shade for Conservatory 586 trees . . - 631 342. a 53) - 587 | 370. Self-supporting Espaliers « 632 343. ” a 588 | 371. - » . 633 344, Mode of arranging wires on 372. 633 walls . . . 588 | 373. Pear tree from "Espalier 345. Wall with galvanized wires . 589 trained to form the name 346. Galvanized wire on walls for Nalles . . . . . . 684 training Cordons - 590 | 274. Pear tree in crinoline form 635 347. Wall wired for Cordon 375. 7 ee Si 636 training . . . . . . 591 | 376. Plan of preceding . 636 bt a gn DAAT RP WP 16. Lake and cliffs in the Parc des Buttes Chaunent 17. Bird’s-eye View in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont . 18. The Gardens and Palace of the Luxembourg . 19. Woodwardias in the Conservatories of the Lusentienes Gender 20. View of the Square and Tour St. Jacques . 21. The Square and Tour St. Jacques. . . . . 22 35 9 Fountain des Innocents 28. View of the Palais des Thermes from the garden . ; 24, Church of the Trinity, with garden and fountain in front . 25. The Gardens of the Palais Royal . a & 26, The Cemetery of Pere La Chaise. . . . 27. The Place du Chatelet . . . . 28. View on the Boulevards near the Chateau d’Eau 29. The Boulevard du Temple . . . ... - 30. 9 9 Montmartre . 31. 99 St. Michel . 32, The Pate, Institut, and Quais . . . . . + + 33. Bambusa faleata . . . cose 84. The Palace and Gardens of Vergailles 85. View from the Tapis Vert . 36. LIST OF PLATES. The Place dela Concorde . . The Avenue des Champs Elysées . . Scene in the Champs Elysées The Champs Elysées near the Palais ite r Tiedhusietes The Place du Carrousel . 2. 2... 1. we . The Gardens of the Tuileries . s . Island and Restaurant in the Bois de Bowlosaa : . Cascades in the Bois de Boulogne. . . Lake and islands in the Bois de Boulogne . Stream and rocks near Longchamps . . View in the Bois de Vincennes . . . . . Mode of watering the grass in the parks . ” » roads, drives, &c. . The Parc Monceau - . Fine-leaved plants in the oo Hanns - Fountains of the basin of Neptune . La Toilette d’Apollon . Xvi JIST OF PLATES. Tie. PAGI 38. The Colonnade at Versailles . . . 2... . o 4 » 247 39. View in the Gardens of the Petit Trianon . ae Bb Gees » 256 40. The Parterre at Fontainebleau. . . . . . F ra . 853 41. View from the Parterre at Fontainebleau . . . ‘ . 254 42, Gardens and Palace of St. Cloud . . 2... 259 43, The Peach trained as an oblique cordon. . . . : . 368 44, Pear tree trained as a Palmette Verrier. . . 7 . . 874 45. View in Mushroom Caves under Montrouge . oe ATE: 46, The Halles Centrales. 2. 2. 1. 1. 1 ee ew ee F . . 540 47, Interior of the Halles Centrales . . . . 2. 1... “ 542 48. The Place St. Sulpice. . . . . or Gs? pth diced wo 4 Sed MAPS :— , Bois de Boulogne. . . oti ee, C2 4 28 » Wincennes ........ oP ae . . 386 Versailles et les Trianons . . ... . 4 j re . 248 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. In Preparation, and will be Published during the presont Year, ALPINE PLANTS. Turis book will contain an explanation of the principles on which the exquisite flora of Alpine countries may be grown in all parts of the British Islands; illustrations of properly formed rockwork for these plants, with sections showing the wrong as well as the right modes of constructing it; views of the natural homes of the plants, illustrating the Author’s tour in the Alps, and a description, devoid of all technicalities, of a choice selection of the more beautiful and interesting kinds, and their successful cultivation. INTRODUCTION. ~ And let it appeare that he doth not change his Country Manners for those of Forraigne Parts: But only prick in some Flowers of that he hath Learned abroad into the Customes of his own country.” Bacon’s Essay on Travel. THE success met with by my little book on French horticul- ture led me to hope that a work describing the progress of our neighbours in city improvements, and giving a detailed account of the production of the more important fruits and vegetables for the Paris market, might prove useful. Hence the present volume. In my “Gleanings from French Gardens,” the question of public gardening was scarcely alluded to; in this book nearly one half is devoted to parks, wide tree-planted roads, public gardens, squares, and similar means of rendering great, ugly, gloomy, filthy human hives fitter dwelling-places for vast hosts of men. A belief that London may, without great sacrifice on our part, be made the noblest city in the world—as fair and clean as wide-spreading and wealthy—and the knowledge that the system of public gardening now pursued by us is not the one calculated to lead to this end, have induced me to give the stay-at-home public, and especially that section of it interested in city improvement, an idea of the efforts that are being made in the capital of France to ameliorate the conditions of life. There is no need to expatiate on the necessity of a thoroughly good system of public gardening in the great cities of a wealthy and civilized race; nor to describe the want of it in our own case—this is painted but too plainly on the faces of thousands in our densely-packed cities, in c XVill INTRODUCTION. which the active brain and heart of the country are con- tinually being concentrated. That London is no longer a city, but a nation gathered together in one spot, is a truism: our other great cities are almost keeping pace with it in growth; but in none of them can we see a trace of any attempt to open up their closely peopled quarters in a way that is calculated to produce a really beneficial effect on the lives and health of their workers. Parks we have, it is true ; yet they but partially supply the necessities of large cities. They would serve all our wants if the population breathed only as often as they put on holiday attire or have time to walk, it may be several miles, to a park; but, as we are constituted, room for locomotion, room for the ever-cleansing breeze to search out impurities, room for a few trees to steal away the dark and unlovely aspect of our streets—in a word, room for breathing—is a more pressing necessity than parks. The French have their parks and public gardens, and very extensive and well- managed ones, though, like some of our own, embellished in a wasteful and unnecessary manner with costly and tender plants; but their noble tree-planted roads, small public squares and places, are doing more for them than parks and pelargoniums — saving them from pestilential over- crowding, and making their city something besides a place for all to live out of who can afford it. A great many of us Britons are apt to connect real city improvement with autocratic government. One has only to speak of our backwardness, when he is instantly re- minded that it is all in consequence of not being blessed with a Napoleon, and that there is for us no chance of amelioration except we can secure a ruler who, after puri- fying and putting our cities into decent nineteenth century order, will good-humouredly take a month’s notice to quit. If the logic of such reasoners were at all in pro- portion to their abundance, we should move onward but little more progressively than the man-like apes. There is no natural human want or wrong that cannot be remedied by human wisdom and energy; and the most crying evil of this period of change, when the mass of workers are steadily INTRODUCTION. xix deserting the country for the city, is that our towns are still built upon a plan worthy of the dark ages, and barely justifiable where the breath of the meadow sweeps through the high street. Another notion is that the expense of such improvements must always prevent them from being carried out. “No labour,’ says Emerson—“ no labour, pains, temperance, poverty, nor exercise, that can gain health must be grudged; for sickness is a cannibal which eats up all the life and youth it can lay hold of, and absorbs its own sons and daughters.” And shall we spare even less in the attempt to provide for the bodily health and happi- ness of three millions of men closely packed in a city grow- ing faster than the giant bamboo ? The real want is a want of plan; and that it is to be hoped Parliament will soon give us power to obtain. At present this want is glaringly apparent not only in the central and more crowded parts, but all‘round London, where admirable pre- parations may be seen for the formation of a mighty cordon of suburban St. Gileses twenty years hence. Next comes the question of expense, and from that neither autocrats nor parliaments can so readily relieve us. Is it too much to hope that a portion of our vast expenditure for arsenals, armies, fleets, and fortifications may some day be diverted to making such alterations in our cities as will render possible in them the rearing of worthy representatives of the English race? Let us hope not; but supposing that we should never see even the dawn of so desirable an era, and that money should still be profusely spent in every way but that of rendering our cities worthy of our time, our knowledge, our civilization, and our race, there yet remains a course by which we may effect some good without in- creasing the expenditure we bestow on parks and public gardens generally, and that is by a complete alteration in the direction of the outlay. Our public gardening differs chiefly from that of Paris and other continental cities by keeping itself away from the very parts where its presence is most wanted. We have parks almost prairie-like in their roominess, yet locomotion is scarcely possible in those parts of the city c2 xX INTRODUCTION. where the chief commerce of this great empire is carried on, and square miles of densely packed regions are no more benefited by them than if they never existed. I believe that, by the diversion of all needless expenditure from the parks, and by converting this and all the future money that can be spared, to the improvement of the densely crowded parts, we may effect an admirable change for the better. The parks are now managed on a scale which is quite un- justifiable, if we take into consideration the many miserable quarters of London which are utterly neglected. It must be understood, however, that no imputation is here made against their practical management; but the system of richly embellishing them whilst paying no attention to im- provements better calculated to humanize our existence in towns, is unwise in every way. Everybody conversant with the London parks must have noticed the great display of tender flowers and costly garden- ing which has been presented in them for some years back. This decoration is of such a nature that it has to be renewed every year ; andinevery case a set of glass-houses, with all their consequent expense for fuel and labour, must be maintained for each park. On this principle a spot of ground not larger than a table may annually cost several pounds for its embel- lishment. There is nothing about the system more notice- able and objectionable than its growth. Each park is ap- proaching more and more the character of a costly garden, while for the want of a few hardy trees, a patch of green sward, and a spread of gravel to act as a playground for children instead of the gutter, many close districts of London are so foul and cheerless as to be a byeword all over the world. It is perfectly natural that the superintendents of our parks should each wish to make the one under his charge as attractive as the others, from a mere gardening point of view ; and it is even more natural that the authorities should accept the opinions of those officials as the most trustworthy on such matters ; but it should be the duty of both to consult the public interest above all things, and that interest points to a complete alteration. It is always unpleasant to reduce an establishment, and doubtless it would be hard for the gar- INTRODUCTION. Xxi deners to part with their hundreds of thousands of tender flowers or to endure a check in their career of converting our parks into sumptuous gardens; but if they saw that this reduction of expenditure would lead to a more wholesome outlay elsewhere, they would willingly help out its adoption. No objection could be urged against the costly system alluded to were it not for its expense, which, as anybody may see, is growing under our eyes every day. It is a very good and worthy thing to display much of the beauty of exotic vegetation in our parks and public gardens, pro- vided we can afford it without doing injustice to those who cannot snatch as much time from toil as suffices for an airing in the parks. Span a piece of ornamental park water with a crystal palace, if you will; convert it into a home for the Great Amazonian Water Lily, and fringe it with Palms and the richest tropical vegetation ; but first be assured that you are able to afford it, and ask yourself whether the amount required would not do twenty times the good if expended in green grass, and trees, and flowers that endure the open air of Britain. Make, if you will, another ridi- culous parterre of stone and water squirts like that at the head of the Serpentine; but first consider whether it would not be wiser to establish a little verdure and freshness in some of the more tumid parts of what Cobbett used to call the “reat wen.” The new avenue gardens in the Regent’s Park, with their griffins and artificial stonework, have cer- tainly cost as much as would have created an oasis in some pestilential part of the East-end. Even the annual expense of keeping up one of these park gardens is equivalent to what would suffice to form and plant a little square like those so freely dotted about Paris during the past dozen years; while the mere conversion of a strip of breezy park into an elaborate garden effects no good whatever from a sanitary point of view. Let us illustrate the matter in a less general way. Last year a number of Bay-trees in tubs were placed in Trafalgar Square ; and it need hardly be added that these require fre- quent attention both in summer and winter—a storehouse during the latter season—while the wooden tubs in which Xxil INTRODUCTION. they are placed insure by rotting a perpetual, if trifling, expense. These proved that any kind of tree may be placed in the streets of London as safely as in any other city; but they also showed the very short-sighted, dis- heartening nature of the whole scheme of our public gar- dening. Not one single thing could these costly green toys do for our streets or open spaces that could not be effected infinitely better by hardy trees, requiring no atten- tion after planting ; and when one thinks of the vast areas of this world of London, that are almost impenetrable, mise- rable is the only term that can be applied to such remedies as this! It is simply doctoring a wart while a horrid abscess is sapping away the life of the patient. And ascend- ing from contemptible things of this tree-in-tub sort, the same reasoning holds good with much of our higher public gardening. Who would not forego the trifling gratification of seeing large portions of our parks so elaborately decorated as to require almost as much attention as a drawing-room, if the small sacrifice were accompanied by the knowledge that tenfold greater good was being carried out where the want of it was the blackest spot on our social condition ? Are not the materials of nature in our own latitudes good enough for us? See what is done by a few materials in her own gardens; reflect what privileges we have in beimg able to cull her varied riches from the plains and mountains all over the temperate and cold and alpine regions of both hemispheres; and then consider whether it is wise to spend the public money for glass-houses and the annual propagation and preservation of multitudes of costly exotics. A better and a nobler system than that which is at present the rule in our parks J have endeavoured to point out at pages 22 to 29. The purposes to which the greater portion of our future expenditure in city gardening ought chiefly to be devoted are the making of wide tree-bordered roads and small simple squares, open to the public at all reasonable hours. The squares should not be embellished in a costly way; but if the persons to whose care their design may be entrusted INTRODUCTION. XXill could not make them beautiful and grateful to the eye of taste by the use of hardy materials which require no costly annual attention after planting, they should be considered unworthy of their posts. Where space could not be afforded for a little expanse of the ever-welcome turf, even a spot of gravelled earth with trees overhead, and a few seats around, would be a real improvement. The Parisian system of managing squares, described in Chapter VI., is infinitely superior to ours, and must sooner or later be adopted with us. Of course its adoption need not necessarily interfere with the private squares, but it should be tried on a small scale at the earliest opportunity. In connexion with small squares, we may consider the city graveyards; and nothing can be more ill-considered than the mutilations that have in several cases been con- sidered necessary before making gardens of them. Every churchyard can be embellished, without uprooting bones, removing headstones, or anything of the kind. In the creation of tree-planted streets in the more crowded parts both of London proper and the suburbs, they should not as a rule be formed on the site of old and much frequented streets, but, so far as possible, pierced between them, leaving the largest and mostpopulous thorough- fares of the present day to become the secondary ones of the future. As is pointed out in the chapter on trees suitable for cities, properly selected kinds grow perfectly well in all parts of London. Indeed I know of no city where I could find finer examples of old trees, chiefly in ancient private gardens and half-hidden squares, where they never received any attention after planting. The excellent system of plant- ing trees on every available spot practised to such a great extent in Paris, should be commenced and carried out as far as possible in our cities. It must be long before we can attempt anything like the magnificent boulevards of our neigh- bours, but let us insert the thin end of the wedge here and there, and perhaps some day we shall have streets to be proud of. In beginning, it is of the highest importance that we avoid as far as possible the meanness and narrowness charac- teristic of our style of making street, road, and footway, XX1V INTRODUCTION, even in places where want of room is not a drawback. If I am not misinformed, the footway on the land side of the road that is to run alongside the Thames Embankment, near the Houses of Parliament, is to be sixteen feet wide, and probably some of that will be taken up with the proposed line of trees. In this magnificent position, to which any in Paris is insignificant, we are to have a footway that would be considered half a dozen feet too narrow for a second-class boulevard or avenue in Paris ! Whether our general scheme of city gardening be changed or not, we may carry it on with greater economy and much improvement by the adoption of a system re- sembling that of the public nurseries of Paris—as pointed out in the chapter on these. It is impossible to have greater need for economy than exists in this matter of public gardening ; yet the public, in supplying its great London parks, does what hundreds of landed proprietors would be foolish to do, in buying its own evergreens and common nursery stuff! Our parks are already so vast that the sums required for planting must alone form a heavy item, nearly all of which could be saved by a judicious system of public nurseries. At present, too, there is growing up in each park a nursery of glass, an expensive affair—certain to annually increase in cost if a check be not applied. All this is really unnecessary. With a sensible reduction of our expensive system of bedding out, or even as matters are at present arranged, great saving might be effected by having all the tender plants for the park gardens raised in one establishment. If the true and great principle of variety—the advantages of which as applicable to public gardening are treated of at p. 28—were adopted in earnest, this concentration of the expensive glass-house work would be all the more convenient and advantageous. Another great improvement might be effected by a rigid exclusion from the plantings of every subject that is not likely to thrive healthfully under the influences of London smut. Many specimens of fine evergreen trees and shrubs have been planted in our parks during the last few years, though the only fate that awaits them therein is a lingering INTRODUCTION. XXV death. When it is stated that each of these costs many times more than would suffice for the purchase of a score of de- ciduous trees which succeed perfectly in London, the neces- sity for watchfulness in this respect will be apparent. I am satisfied that by adopting these reforms we could annually save as much as would suffice for the creation of a small suburban park or fresh and charming public square or garden in some overpacked region of London, into which the children could venture without rendering themselves guilty of trespassing, or making a hazardous climb over a sharp-spiked railing, as they frequently do in our amusing if unlovely Leicester Square. We now come to practical matters relating to fruit cul- ture, market gardening, etc.,in Paris and its environs. On these matters there have recently been prolonged discus- sions, but many readers and disputants have been misled by confounding the comparative state of horticulture in France and England with the real point at issue—i.e., the supe- riority of the French in certain special and most important branches of garden culture. I have never asserted, as has been assumed, that the French are our superiors in general horticulture, for I know right well that we are as far before them in horticulture, agriculture, and rural affairs generally, as we are in journalistic and magazine literature ; but I do assert that in certain points of fruit and vegetable culture they are equally as far in advance of us. I am convinced, too, that more than one of their modes of culture will prove of far greater value to ourselves than ever they have been to the French. To avoid these points, and utter commonplaces about our general superiority, is com- pletely to beg the question. Are we to ignore their good practices because we happen to be more luxurious in our gardening establishments than they are? If I were to find in use in the backwoods of America some handy tool or implement effective in saving human labour, should I be wise in refusing to adopt it because the rude inventor had - not attained to the simplest luxuries of existence? If we affirm that the honey of the bee is sweet, the statement that bees are not so beautiful as butterflies is no reply. I do XXVi INTRODUCTION. not write to praise the French, but to point out in what way we may learn from them. That they, too, may learn from us will be apparent when I state that intelligent Frenchmen have pointed doubtfully at plants of Rhubarb and Seakale—two of our most excellent vegetable products— and asked if it were true that we eat them in England! The general introduction into France of these two vegetables, with constitutions as vigorous as the most rampant weeds, and never failing to furnish abundant yields, would not merely be a gain to the gardens and markets of a great vegetable and fruit-eating people like the French, but a material addition to the true riches and food supplies of the country. Of the practices which we may with advantage, and which indeed we must adopt from the French—for the fittest win the day, no matter how long the struggle—those of fruit culture command our first attention, because good fruit culture combines the beautiful and the useful in a very high degree. There are at least six important ways in which we may highly improve and enrich our fruit gardens and fruit stores. First, by planting against walls, with a warm southern exposure and a white surface, the very finest kinds of winter Pears—the Pears that keep, the Pears that bring a return, the Pears that cost the consumer a shilling or more each in the London markets after Christmas—the Pears of which the French now send us thousands of pounds worth annually. By doing this we shall in less than ten years have a magnificent stock of these noble fruits all over the country, and be able to export the fruit we now import so largely. Varieties of winter Pears are frequently planted in the open, in all parts of these islands, that an experienced fruit grower in the neighbourhood of Paris or even further south would never plant away from a warm sunny wall, knowing well that it would be wasteful ignorance to do so. Secondly, by the general adoption of the cordon system of apple growing in gardens. This will enable us to produce a finer class of fruit than that grown in orchards. It may INTRODUCTION. XXVil be carried out in spots hitherto useless or unemployed, and will enable us to do away with the ugly Apple trees that now shade and occupy the surface of our gardens. The system will be found the greatest improvement our garden Apple culture has ever witnessed. It should be thoroughly understood, however, that I do not recommend this system for orchard culture, or for the production of the kinds and qualities of fruits that may be gathered profusely from naturally developed standard trees. Thirdly, by the general introduction of the true French Paradise stock into the gardens of the British Isles. Its merits are that it is dwarfer in growth than any other, and that in wet, cold soils it keeps its roots in a wig-like tuft near the surface—a most valuable quality on many of our cold, heavy soils. When well known it will be found an inestimable boon in every class of garden except those on very dry and poor soils, being wonderfully efficacious in inducing early fertility, and affording a better result without root pruning than either the Crab or English Paradise do with that attention. The knowledge that the Doucin of the French is an admirable stock for all forms of tree between the standard of the orchard and the very dwarf cordon or bush, will also be very useful. The Apple should not be worked on the Crab unless where it is desired to form large standard trees in orchards—by far the best method, if properly carried out, for market and general supplies. Fourthly, by the practice of the French method of close pruning and training the Peach tree, as described in Chapter XIX. The system adopted in this country is an entirely diffe- rent one—a, loose, irregular style, the shoots not being suffi- ciently cut back. The Peach tree is quite as amenable to exact training as any other; and when the regular system of the French is understood among us, it will be adopted as the best for wall culture. Preference should also be given to some of the smaller forms of tree adopted by the French, as they will enable us to cover our walls with fruit- ful handsome trees in a few seasons instead of waiting many years, as has hitherto been the case, and then perhaps never seeing them well covered. These forms are particularly XXXVI INTRODUCTION. desirable where the soil is too light and poor for the health and full development of large wide-spreading trees. In the last edition of the book of our most popular English teacher of fruit culture are these words :— A wall covered with healthy Peach or Nectarine trees of a good ripe age is rarely to be seen ; failing crops and blighted trees are the rule, healthy and fertile trees the exception!” We can alter this by the adoption of the compact cordon, U or double U forms figured in this book, by a better system of pruning, and by thoroughly protecting the trees in spring. Fifthly, by adopting for every kind of fruit tree grown against walls a more efficient and simple mode of protection than we now use. In speaking of fruit culture, nothing is more common than to hear our climate spoken of as the cause of all our deficiencies—the fine climate of northern France being supposed to do everything for the cultivator. The value of this view of the case is well illustrated by the fact that all good practical fruit growers about Paris take care to protect their fruit walls in spring by means of wide temporary copings. In this country I have never anywhere seen a really efficient temporary coping, though endless time is wasted in placing on boughs, nets, &c., none of which are in the least effective in protecting the trees from the cold sleety rains, which, if they do not destroy or enfeeble the fertilizing power of the blossoms, prepare them to become an easy prey to the frost. Sixthly, by the acquirement and diffusion among every class of gardeners and even garden-labourers of a know- ledge of budding, grafting, pruning, and training equal to that now possessed by the French. Many of the illu- strations in this book show the mastery they possess over each detail of training—the branches of every kind of tree being conducted in any way the trainer may desire, and with the greatest ease. This knowledge is quite com- mon amongst small amateurs and workmen whose fellows in this country would not know where to put a knife in a tree. There are numerous professors who teach it in France; it is not taught at all or in the most imperfect manner in this country, where it is really of far greater INTRODUCTION. ¥X1X importance. We require walls for our fruit trees more than the French do, and there is no way in which we need improvement more than in the matter of the proper covering and development of wall trees. With standard trees, pruning may be dispensed with to a great extent; but so long as we are obliged to devote walls to the production of our finer fruits, such knowledge as is now possessed by good French fruit growers must prove a great aid. With this knowledge, and the adoption of one of the two economical modes of wall- making described, aided by the general introduction of the mechanical aids to successful garden fruit culture now becoming so general in France, and which I have described and figured at length, we might look forward to a vast improvement in our fruit gardens both as regards their beauty and utility. In the vegetable department we have also several important things to learn from the French, and not the least among these is the winter and spring culture of Salads—inasmuch as enormous quantities of these are sent from Paris to our markets during the spring months. During the last days of April, 1868, I saw fine specimens of the green Cos Lettuce of the Paris market gardeners selling at a high price in Nottingham, and doubtless it is the same in many of our great cities and towns far removed from London. As I write this (April 19th) the market gardens near London are faintly traced with light green lines of weak young Lettuce plants, that have been for weeks barely existing under the influences of our harsh spring. Around Paris at the same season, in consequence of the adoption of the cloche and a careful system of culture, it is a pleasure to see the size and perfect health of the crops of Lettuces—the difference in culture, and not the imaginary difference in climate, solely producing the result. Some have remarked that we are not a Salad-eating race; but the fact that large quantities of Parisian Lettuces are imported every week and every day for many weeks in spring, proves that we are so in so far as we can afford it. If the restaurants and houses of all classes in Paris had to be supplied from another country, and at about four times the price xXxXxX INTRODUCTION. they now pay, the Parisians would use even less than we do. For many years the London market gardeners, who have long seen these beautiful Lettuces selling at high prices in the markets—at as much as 9s. per dozen wholesale—have quietly concluded that they came from some Eden-like spot in the south of France, and have apparently never taken the trouble to see how they are produced. The truth is, that by the adoption of the French system they may be grown to fully as great perfection near London and in the home counties as near Paris. The fact that we have to be sup- plied by our neighbours with articles that could be so easily produced in this country is almost ridiculous. It is im- possible to exaggerate the importance of this culture for a nation of gardeners like the British; and if it were the only hint that we could take from the French cultivators with advantage, it would be well worth consideration. * Enormous” was the term which was made use of by a Paris market gardener in describing to me the quantities, of Lettuces sent from his garden, and the numbers of the traders who came in search of them. The French system will have the first difficulty to get over—that of people becoming used to it, and slightly changing their habits of culture to accommodate it; but it must ere long be uni- versally adopted with us, and nothing can prevent a great benefit being reaped from it by the horticulturists of the United Kingdom. The French are also far before us in the culture and appreciation of Asparagus, pursuing a system quite op- posed to ours, and growing it so abundantly that for many weeks in spring it is an article of popular use with all classes. Some among us affect to ridicule French Asparagus in consequence of its being blanched nearly to the top of the shoot ; but they forget, or ignore the fact, that to remove this imperfection, if it be one, the grower has merely to save himself the trouble of causing it, and that he may adopt the superior mode of culture and root- treatment pursued by the French without blanching the stem if he desires it in a green state. Apart from this, their INTRODUCTION. XXX1 experience of French Asparagus is frequently limited to samples that may have been cut in France a fortnight before they reach the table in England, having passed the intermediate time in travelling and losing quality in market or shop. Having treated of Parisian market gardening generally in a special chapter, little need be said of it here except that the ground is often more than twice as dear as round London ; that in consequence of close rotation and deep and rich culture a great deal more is got off the ground in the small market gardens of Paris than is ever the case in our larger ones; and that by reason of the general prac- tice of a thorough system of watering the markets are as well supplied during the hottest summer and autumn as if the climate were a perpetual moist and genial June, whereas when we have an exceptionally warm summer supplies become scarce and dear almost immediately, as was the case during the past year. The whole system of culture of the Paris market gardens is interesting and suggestive in a high degree—especially to a people who take so much pleasure and spend so much money in their gardens as we do. There can be no doubt that the intro- duction of the same system of very close cropping and good culture would be a great public advantage near all our large cities, where ground is always scarce and dear. It would enable us to get at least double the quantity of vegetables off the same space of ground, and better still, tend to furnish dwellers in cities with something like the propor- tion of fresh vegetables that is necessary for health. Our working people do not at present use in a sufficient degree any vegetable except the universal Potato. I think I am well within the mark in stating that the poorer classes in Paris use three times as much of fresh vegetable food as the same classes in London. But improvements of our vege- table and fruit markets must precede all amelioration in this direction. Parisian Mushroom culture is interesting and curious in a degree of which till lately we have had no conception, as will be seen by a perusal of the chapter devoted to it. XXX INTRODUCTION. The sketches and plan that illustrate it—obtained with some difficulty—are the first that have been published on the subject, so far as I am aware, and will help the reader to obtain a fair idea of places that have been seen by very few English people, and of which most Frenchmen have only a mysterious notion. The perusal of this chapter will doubtless suggest trials of the culture to owners of mines and cavernous burrowings of any kind; and perhaps in time to come Mushrooms may be a readily obtainable commodity in our markets, even in winter and spring, when they are usually very high priced and dear with us. In conclusion, I may allude to a subject that is familiar to those of my readers who peruse the horticultural pub- lications of the day—viz., the fierce attacks that have been made upon me for my advocacy of some of the practices herein described. These attacks have chiefly come from certain horticulturists who boast of having traversed France many times during the past thirty years, and who, naturally perhaps, hold that a “tyro,” a “ young traveller,’ &c. &c., who first visited France in 1867, cannot possibly have seen anything good or instructive that has escaped their expe- rienced and sagacious eyes. The only reply I shall now or in future make to these gentlemen is in the form of a request to the horticultural public. Test such matters as interest you; surrender not your judgment either to young or old— to the self-sufficient sage or the presumptuous student—but ascertain for yourselves who is right. THE PARKS, PROMENADES, AND GARDENS OF PARIS. —>_— The city swims in verdure, beautiful As Venice on the waters, the sea-swan. What bosky gardens dropped in close-walled courts Like plums in ladies’ laps, who start and laugh ! What miles of streets that run on after trees, Still carrying all the necessary shops, Those open caskets with the jewels seen ! And trade is art, aud art’s philosophy, In Paris. Avrora Leicx. CHAPTER I. , THE CHAMPS ELYSEES AND THE GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES,. Ir not already the brightest, airiest, and most beautiful of all cities, Paris is in a fair way to become so; and the greatest part of her beauty is due to her gardens and her trees. A city of palaces indeed; but which is the most attractive—the view up that splendid avenue and garden stretching from the heart of the city to the Arc de Triomphe, or that of the finest architectural features of Paris? What would the new boulevards of white stone be without the softening and refreshing aid of those long lines of well- cared-for trees that everywhere rise around the buildings, helping them somewhat as the grass does the buttercups? The makers of new Paris—who deserve the thanks of the inhabitants of all the filthy cities of the world for setting such an example—answer these questions for us by pulling down close and filthy quarters, where the influences of sweet air and green trees were never felt, and the sun could te B 2 THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. scarcely penetrate, and turning them into gems of bosky verdure and sweetness; by piercing them with long wide streets, flanked with lines of green trees; and, in a word, by relieving in every possible direction-man’s work in stone with the changeful and therefore everpleasing beauty of vegetable life. In Paris, public gardening assumes an importance which it does not possess with us; itis not confined to parks in one end of the town, and absent from the places where it is most wanted. It follows the street builders with trees, turns the little squares into gardens unsurpassed for good taste and beauty, drops down graceful fountains here and there, and margins them with flowers; it presents to the eye of the poorest workman every charm of vegetation; it brings him pure air, and aims directly and effectively at the recrea- tion and benefit of the people. The result is so good, that it is well worthy our attention. To understand and discuss it with advantage we cannot do better than commence in the Place de la Concorde, and afterwards walk up the Avenue des Champs Elysées, and into the gardens of the Louvre and the Tuileries—the chain of gardens about here forming a vast open space in the very heart of Paris. The Place de la Concorde is not a garden, but a noble open space, admirable from its breadth and boldness, a worthy centre to the fine streets and avenue that diverge from it, embellished by fine fountains and some statues, and with a terrible history. By looking to the east the Palace of the Tuileries may be seen through the opening made in the wood of chestnuts by the central walk, and to the west is the Avenue des Champs Elysées. If the reader who has not visited Paris will suppose a wide pleasure ground flanking the lower part of Regent-street, and having a grand tree-bordered avenue passing through its centre straight away to the highest point of the broad walk in the Regent’s Park, and there crested by an immense triumphal arch—the largest in the world, 161 feet high and 145 wide—he may be able to form some idea of what the scene is, immediately after passing from the Place de la Concorde. THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. 3 The Avenue des Champs Elysées leads from it straight to the Arc; and what it is and how it is laid out we have next to see. First there is the road, well macadamized, slightly convex, so level and easy for horses that those of London could never again find courage to grind down angular lumps of broken rock if they passed a few weeks - in rolling over it, and nearly 100 feet wide. There is a line of horse-chestnuts and other trees immediately within the footway that borders this on each side, and then more than fifty feet clear—for the greater part a gravelled walk, but with a well-laid footway of asphalte about seven feet wide in the centre, which is most agreeable to walk upon at all times, and particularly in wet weather. Then come four rows of elm and chestnut trees, under them about fifty feet more of gravel walks— the other side of the central avenue being laid out in a similar manner. Then commences the garden, which is truly worthy of its position. Walking up the avenue on the left side we are in a wide and noble pleasure-ground, of which the farther- most parts that can be seen are backed by belts of shrubs and specimen trees. But what are these little structures one sees quite in front? Well, simply neat little sheds for gingerbread, cigars, and such commodities. To the British eye this kind of thing does not seem in what is called “keeping ;” but if people will have their cigars and ginger- bread they may as well be sold to them where they are strolling or playing. Besides, you have in this case got the gingerbread-keepers under control, and they look as thoroughly subdued and dutiful as the sergent de ville, who isa model of gravity and dutifulness. Talk about the gaiety of the French! Why, you never see one of these men smile, and yet they look thoroughly French. I once saw a London policeman, in sheer overflow of spirits, and probably slightly influenced by beer, throw his hat across the street after a cat, on a bright moonlight night, and then laugh at the fun of it; but who ever saw so much hilarity or want of dignity as that in a Parisian policeman ? They, however, are a thoroughly efficient set of men— BQ 4 ‘THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. earnest and alert in duty, and apparently with many shades more of self-respect than their London brethren. They keer the strictest order in these public gardens, the whole of which are as open and unprotected by fencing as the beds on the lawn of a country seat. There are no railings higher than six inches; and yet no flowers at Kew or the Crystal Palace are more valuable than these suffice to protect day and night. No doubt this results to some extent from the prompt measures of the grave policemen when occasions for their interference do occur. It is in- structive and amusing to reflect that some years ago, when it was first proposed to green the heart of Paris with such beautiful open gardens as this, most wise French people considered it a foolish idea, saying: “ Squares, &c., are possible in London, but not in the midst of our rough excitable people !” Most of the stems of the trees are covered with ivy ; the wide belts of varied shrubs are encircled with the choicest flowers ; the grass, ever-welcomest of carpets, spreads out widely here and there ; great clumps of Rhododendrons and trees shroud buildings, not completely to hide them, but to prevent them from staring forth nakedly in the midst of the quiet sweetness of the garden. These buildings are chiefly for concerts, cafés, &c., and presently we come to a restaurant very agreeably situated. The plan of having restaurants in like places might be extended to London with great advantage—in such places as Kew or any of our great parks or gardens. Some captious individuals may object. to such places being turned into tea-gardens ; but tea-gardens must exist somewhere, and why not have them respectably conducted under control, and well arranged to meet the public wants? By so doing you might prevent the people from resorting to musty, and perhaps not very elevating, eating and drinking-places, and perhaps take from the charms of the lower type of music- hall entertammments now not considered so edifying as popular. On first consideration, the introduction of com- fortable restaurants in a place like Kew might seem to interfere with the quietness, which is one of the best features “ACHOONOD WT AT TOWTd HHL NOWT STACK TT SIINVHD SIM ANNAAWY AHL ‘ll ALV1d THE CHAMPS HLYSEEs. 5 of like places ; but it need not be so. There is no need for placing them in competition with the glass-houses, or along a main walk, or in any position where they may in the least interfere with the beauty and peace of the scene. They might be placed in isolated yet easily accessible spots, shrouded with trees and shrubs from the garden or park, yet commanding peeps of it here and there; they might have naturally disposed groups of low spreading trees near them, under which people could sit to dine, or take tea in the summer months; they might have open-sided bowers with zinc roofs, the pillars supporting them being draped with Virginian creepers, flowering roses, and the like, and the roofs also densely covered with them. They would have all the attractiveness of open trellis-work creeper-clad bowers, and be at the same time quite impervious to showers. As we proceed, fountains, weeping willows, and not less beautiful weeping Sophoras are seen, and so many isolated specimens of the noblest trees and plants, such as Welling- tonia, pampas grass, fine-foliaged plants, &c., that we must not mention them all; but arriving at the Palace of Industry, we make a considerable détour to the left to see a garden devoted to music—the Concert of the Champs Elysées, con- ducted by Musard. I draw attention to this to show that it is possible to introduce amusements into our public gardens without originating anything like the Jardin Bullier or Cremorne. I iknow of no place more creditably con- ducted than this, and any of the many English who have spent a summer evening in it will be of the same opinion. It is as quiet and free from objectionable features as a flower-show in the Regent’s Park, and very tastefully ar- ranged. In the centre a band-stand, around it a bed of flowers, then about ninety feet of gravel planted with circles of trees. Between each two of the outer line of horse- chestnuts there is a lamp-post with seven lights, standing in a mass of flowers. Between this and the enclosing fence there are belts of grass, trees, and of the choicest shrubs ; in one part a little lawn with its cedars and maiden-hair trees, bamboos, Irish yews, ivy-clad stems, and flower-beds ; 6 THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. in another spot a noble group of Indian-shot plants, with bronzy, finely-formed leaves; an equally telling one of the great edible Caladium springing from among mignonette ; here a pampas grass, there a broad-leaved Acanthus, with a mass of the handsome Chinese rice-paper plant in the distance. In its design and management it is as different from the Cremorne type as could be desired. To compare it with the places where the stupid and ugly cancan is performed, and of which there are specimens near at hand, is quite out of the question. How the young men of France, so ready Fig. 1. Evening Concert in the Champs Elysées. to detect the béte in others, can go night after night to see this performed, is beyond comprehension. I see no reason why we should not have places managed as is this evening concert-garden, even if it were only to counteract the evil influences of the numerous places which cater simply for the lowest tastes. In any case this garden will repay a visit to those who take interest in these matters. It was only in 1860 that the garden of the Champs Elysées was laid out, and yet it looks an ancient affair, has many respectable specimens of conifers, Magnolias, &c., PLATE III. ; il) i ii SCENE IN THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. 7 numerous large and well-made banks and beds of Rhodo- dendrons, Azaleas, hollies, and the best shrubs and trees generally, with abundant room for planting summer flowers, chiefly, however, as margins to the clumps of shrubs. The gardens end at the Rond Point, a circular open space, in which there are large beds for flowers, fountains, &c., disfigured, however, by the undulations which some poor little bits of grass are made to assume. Useless and unnatural diversification of the ground in some small spaces, and the lumping together of too many things in one mass, are the weak points in the gardening of Paris. Above this Rond Point, a very wide footway of about sixty feet, shaded by two rows of trees, divides the avenue from the houses which here approach its sides. Instead of following the avenue up towards the Arc side we stop at the Rond Point, glance at the masses of Hibiscus, Caladium, and Papyrus of the Nile which embellish it, and then descend the garden by the side of the Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré. Here we presently meet with a circus, a neat little Fig. 2. Circus in the Gardens of the Champs Elysées. theatre, concert halls, &c., all dropped down in the quietest way amidst the choicest trees ,and flowers, and many verl- 8 THE CHAMPS ELYSELS. table permanently established Punch and Judy shows ! 7 hope this will shock no well regulated mind. They are not like fugitive exhibitions tolerated at the end of obscure streets branching off from the Strand or Oxford-street, but have rights as well-established as those of the Opera. If we consider what a perennial source of amusement this Punch and Judy fun has been for children, perhaps it deserves a place as well as other more fashionable amuse- ments. And then we have revolving circuses, on which the children of the period take their choice to ride on elephant or steed, various kinds of juvenile amusements, cafés, summer music halls, dahlia beds, fountains, Abys- sinian musas, and too many similar objects to enumerate. On fine days the wide tree-shaded walks are crowded with pedestrians; all the little games are in full swing, and though it may seem a queer jumble to many, the whole thing is as orderly as could be wished. At the top of the long avenue, the great arch is sur- rounded by an immense circular Place, from which straight boulevards and avenues radiate in all directions. The guide-books advise the visitor to Paris to see the lamps lit at night in the Champs Elysées, but if he should want to see the finest effect of that kind, he must go to this arch ona dark night, and standing in the centre look at their effect in the long wide avenues, which fall from where he stands, and afterwards walk around its base to see them better still. The #, whole scene here is magnificent, and _ if Paris had nothing worth seeing but / what may be seen from hence, it - would well repay a visit to all persons == interested in the improvements of = towns and cities. = The Place de l’Etoile, with its sur- ' roundings, is precisely the reverse of our own efforts in like positions—its Geentaas and Bodlavande ie breadth, dig nity, io airiness con- diating fiom the Place de trasting strikingly with the narrow- VEtoile. ness, meanness, and closeness of the “HINLSNGNI,T AG SIVTIVd AHL UVAN SAASATA SAWVHO AHL ‘AI ALV Id GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. 9 best attempts in our so very much larger and busier London. The Gardens of the Louvre and the Tuileries. The Plaee du Carrousel, stretching between the Palaces of the Louvre and the Tuileries, is a large open paved square by no means attractive, but at its eastern end it merges into the narrower Place Napoléon III., to which I wish more par- ticularly to direct attention. The Place is inclosed on three sides by the splendid buildings of the new Louvre, and is embellished with two little gardens surrounded by railings with gilt spears. The Place du Carrousel, surrounded by Palaces, is perfectly bare and without ornament, except the triumphal arch that stands at the main entrance of the court of the Tuileries, but looking to- wards the Louvre the eye is in- stantly refreshed by these little gardens, veritable oases in a wil- derness of paving stone. I know of no spot more capable of teach- ing some of the most valuable les- sons in city-gardening than this. Viewed externally from their immediate surroundings, or from , the more distant Tuileries square, the gardens have a very pretty effect, and show at once the utility of such, not only for their own sakes, but also as an aid to architecture. On the one hand you have a space as devoid of vegetation as the desert—on the other, by the creation of the simplest types of garden, you relieve the sculptor’s work in stone and the changeless lines of the great buildings by the living grace of vegetation, so as to make the scene of the most refreshing kind, and all by merely encroaching a little on the space that would other- wise be monopolized by paving stones. The gardens are very small and most simple in plan, a circle of grass, a walk, and a belt of hardy trees and shrubs around the Fic. 4, —— L’Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel. 10 GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. whole, and an edging of ivy. No gaudy colouring of the ground—no expensive temporary decoration with tender costly flowers, but everything as green and quiet as could be desired. There are four 4 outlets always open, so that visitors can go in and view the little gardens and the rich pavilions rising behind their small but sufficient foregrounds : aS of verdure. Ground plan of the small It is quite common amongst land- gardens in_ the Place geape gardeners and others to lay down fs eiaiaa as a sort of law, that when we make a garden very near to any kind of ornamental building it is above all things necessary to make it “ associate” with them —to carry the lines of the building as much as possible into the garden, to make it as angular, and it may be, as _ brick- dusty as possible, like some recent examples with us; but these gardens prove the fallacy of this reasoning as regards city gardens and open spaces. ‘There are numbers of men professing taste in designing gardens who would never think of putting anything in this position, surrounded as it is, but some miserable prettinesses, expensive gewgaws in the way of trees in tubs, squirting water, vases, coloured broken gravels, &ec. &c., things which in their opinion would harmonize with the work of the architect. But from the simplest materials the most satisfactory results may be obtained, as we see here ; and economical reasons also demand simplicity and permanence in all similar attempts. Ten times the amount might be spent on the space occupied, and perhaps with a far less satisfactory result, while there would of course be so much less’ force to expend on the ventilation and improvement of the many close and sunless quarters that still remain. The small patches of grass in these gardens are like that everywhere in Paris, deep and vividly green, and fresh at allseasons. They usually give it a top dressing of fine and thoroughly decomposed manure in April, but the secret is, dense and repeated waterings at all seasons when the natural rainfall does not serve to keep it as fresh as June leaves. PLATE V, THE PLACE DU CARROUSEL AND GARDENS IN THE PLACE NAPOLEON III. GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. 11 Passing through the great court of the Louvre, and out on the eastern side, we see the garden of the Louvre, which is simply a rail-surrounded space, laid out with the usual very green and well-kept grass, round-headed bushes of lilac, ivy edgings, evergreen shrubs here and there, flowers at all seasons, and the best, cheapest, prettiest, and most lasting edgings in use in any garden, made of cast-iron in imitation of bent sticks. Much of this garden was once covered with old buildings and streets—even the great square just spoken of was once packed with alleys; but the recent improvements of Paris have swept all those things away, and on every side the buildings stand as free as could be desired—unlike our London ones, some of which can hardly be discovered, and which when they have an enclosed space around them, it is merely a receptacle for dead cats, &c. Against the walls of the palace numerous seats are placed, and the gardens, though not large, offer a very agreeable retreat at all seasons; for even during the colder months the old men and invalids improve the shining hours by gathering on the seats close under the great walls when the sun is out. The main feature of the flower gardening here is a modi- fication of the mixed border system, pretty, and also capable of infinite change. It is a combination of circle, and mix- ture, and ribbon, quite unpractised with us. Along the middle of the borders we have a line of permanent and rather large-growing things—roses, dahlias, neat bushes of Althea frutex, and small Persian lilacs. The lilacs might be thought to grow too gross for such a position, but by cutting them in to the heart as soon as they have done flowering the bedding plants start with them on equal terms, and the lilacs do not hurt them by pushing out again, and make neat round heads prepared to bloom well again the following spring. Thus they have along the centre of each border a line of green and pointed subjects, which always save it from over-colouring, and then underneath, they lay on the tones as thick as need be. Around each bush or tall plant in these borders are placed rings of bedding plants—Fuchsia, Veronica, Heliotropum, Chrysanthemum 12 GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. grandiflorum, and fceniculaceum, the outer spaces be- tween the rings being filled with plants of other sorts. Then follows a straight line of Pelargoniums—scarlet, white, and rose mixed plant for plant, and forming a very pretty line. Outside of that a band of Irish ivy, pegged close to the earth, and pinched two or three times a year; and finally, on the walk side, an edging of the rustic irons else- where described. As soon as they get beyond the very primitive idea, that because one border is of a certain pattern the others ought to follow it, this will be found a really good plan, and it is worth attention with us; by its means we may enjoy great variety in a border without any of the raggedness of the old mixed border system. Around most of the rose trees they place a small ring of gladioli—a good plan where the plant grows well. Any person with a knowledge of bedding plants may vary this plan ad infinitum, and produce a most happy result with it wherever borders have to be dealt with. Let us next go to the west end of the palaces to see the gardens of the Tuileries, which stretch from the western face of that palace to the Place de la Concorde, bounded on one side by the Rue de Rivoli, on the other by the river. Being nearly in the centre of Paris these gardens are as frequented as any. The garden is very large, and laid out in the plain geometrical style by Le Notre, with wide straight walks, borders round grass plots dotted with little lilac bushes, and flowers below them. About one-fourth of it near the palace is cut off for the Emperor’s private use, but this part is merely divided from the Statue of Winter in the Tuileries Public one by a sunk fence and Gardens, low railing, so that the view Fia. 6, GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. 13 '. of the private garden is enjoyed by all. In it they _,. simply plant good evergreens and plenty of deciduous flowering shrubs, while the grass plots are belted by borders, one of which runs right along under the palace windows with the usual round bushes of lilac; but these borders are kept pretty gay all the year round. The private garden of the Emperor is quite open to the public when he is not at the Tuileries. It is well worth visiting should an opportunity occur, if ouly to see the way the ivy edgings are used. There are no beds, only borders—these touching the gravel walk, and being edged with box. Then on the bright gravel itself, or apparently so, they lay down a beautiful dark green band of ivy, of course allowing in the laying down of the walk for the space thus occupied. The effect of the rich green band adds much to the beauty of the borders. The mode of making them is elsewhere described. The flowers are kept a good deal subdued, and some trouble is taken to develope the shrubs and stronger vegetation dis- tinctly and well. The effect is very good from the windows and the interior. Cannas are used to produce a very charming effect in mixed borders, and altogether this por- tion is tastefully and inexpensively planted. It is noticeable that hardy shrubs and trees predominate—I believe, by the Emperor’s wish—and that, instead of the usual crowding, care is taken to give even the commonest kinds room to grow and become respectable specimens. A very wide walk crosses the garden just outside the private division ; at about its centre are a large basin and fountain, from which another wide walk goes straight to- wards the Place de la Concorde, and by looking in that direction we see the whole length of the magnificent Avenue des Champs Elysées, terminated on the crest of the hill by the Arc de Triomphe. This walk cuts the garden into two portions chiefly planted with chestnuts and other forest trees, which have not been sufficiently thinned, but are allowed to run up very tall, and thus afford a high arched shade in summer, the ground being gravelled underneath, so that it is comfortable to walk or play upon. There is a slight narrow terrace on both sides, an orangery, the con- 14 GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. tents of which are placed out in summer, an alley arched over with lime trees by the side of the Rue de Rivoli, and at the western end there are terraces which afford a capital view of the bright and busy scene around and the noble avenue towards the west. There is a great deal of sculp- ture, both copies of celebrated works and original ones, but as for fresh horticultural interest there is little or none to be seen; and a passing glance is all the visitor need be- stow on the public part of the garden of the Tuileries, though it is only fair to add that its general effect is very Fie. 7, The Rhone and the Saone, by G. Coustou, in the Tuileries Gardens. good, and that it in all respects answers its purpose as a play and promenading ground and a “ lung ” to the city. A few words must be devoted to those long lines of large orange trees in tubs—they are so very conspicuous that they force themselves upon our attention. There are many ignorant and hopeless ways of spending money in gardens, but few more so than this,—indeed it is one of the most fami- liar instances of unworthy outlay that is known. Consider for a moment the enormous expense incurred by those lines of finely-grown old orange trees in the gardens of the Tuileries, at Versailles, the Luxembourg, and in other gar- GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. 15 dens, public and private! Every one of them has cost more to rear to a condition that is presentable than the education of a surgeon or barrister, and all in order to pro- duce a deep round tuft of not very healthy green leaves at the end of a black stem seven feet high or thereabouts. Costly tubs that rot periodically ; costly storing in large conservatories in winter ; costly carriage from the house to open garden, and from open gar- den to house, and all to no good purpose whatever. The foliage differs not at all, or in but a trifling degree, from evergreens common in our shrubberies ; the clipped head of green is far inferior to that afforded by the hardy and elegant spineless Ro- binia, the flowers are few or none, the whole thing is a relic of barbarism, and as such should be excluded from the tasteful and well-arranged garden. The kind of effect they produce is — afforded in a far higher degree — Group in the Tuileries Gardens. by perfectly hardy subjects. But an orange is an orange: and suppose we wish to have a little grove of them? Then make the grove at once, and, by planting them in an elegant conservatory, grow them ten times as well and ten times as cheaply as you can by this absurd process of carrying in and out, and never withal seeing them in good condition. What a potato is without tubers, an orange is minus flowers and fruit. By planting them in a conservatory you may enjoy all the beauty of leaves, flowers, and fruit—by carrying out of doors, hoping thereby to embellish what you only disfigure, you enjoy nothing but imperfectly healthy leaves. The conservatory must exist to hold them in any case, and one only big enough to contain, say half those in this garden, would, if planted with orange trees, afford the Parisians 16 GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. more gratification by showing them what orange trees really are, than all they have ever enjoyed through the vast sums that have been spent upon orange trees for several hundred years past. They were all very well in an age when exotics, and above all such attractive exotics as the orange, were rare, and when good glass-houses were unknown, and bad ones impossibly dear ; but now, when we have thousands of choice exotics grown in perfection everywhere around us, the present condition of these fine old trees should not be tole- rated. They should be planted out in a conservatory worthy of the city, or be done away with. There are, however, some circumstances in which the culture of plants in tubs for placing in the open air in summer may not only be tolerable, but desirable. At Geneva I once saw, opposite a restaurant, the finest specimen of the fragrant Pittosporum Tobira that I ever met with, and was informed it had been in a cellar all the winter. Such as the orange trees are, however, they have admirers, most of whom believe that they cannot be grown to such per- fection by the same method in England. This is not the case: the method pursued in northern France (which is described in another chapter) will succeed almost equally well in the south of England and Ireland. Let us wait a moment to look at these people feeding the birds, so much to their own amusement and also that of the lookers-on. It is a pretty sight, and seems to afford great pleasure to many people, and doubtless much more to the successful feeders. It is quite a little scene in the gardens every day, and on fine days it attracts numbers of people, though it is an every-day occurrence there. The Jardin des Tuileries is inhabited by a great number of the common ringdove, or “ quest”—those wild pigeons which in Britain and elsewhere, when in a wild state, flash away from man like an arrow from the bow. In these and other gardens in Paris they seem perfectly at home, and perch at ease in the trees over the heads of the multitudes of children who play, and of people who walk on fine days. Their in- timacy does not extend further, except with their friends who come to feed them now and then. Here isan instance. GARDENS OF THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES. 17 A man, evidently a respectable mechanic, comes to a certain spot, near the private garden of the Emperor. Presently some of the pigeons fly to their friend. He is an old acquaintance, and a bird alighting on his left arm gets a morsel of bread to begin with; others follow. He has previously put a few crumbs of bread into his mouth, of which the birds are well aware, and, arching their exqui- sitely graceful necks, they put their bills between his lips and take out a bit turn about. Perhaps one alights on his head, and he may accommodate two or three on his right arm. There are others perched on the railings near at hand, and they come in for their turn by-and-by. A dense ring of people stand a few yards off, looking on, especially if it be a fine day, but they must not frighten the birds, and this persistent feeder looks daggers at a small boy who allows an audible yell of delight to escape. Presently the sparrows gather round the feeder’s feet, and pick up any crumbs that may fall while he is transferring the bread from his pocket to his mouth. The sparrows, sagacious creatures, do not as a rule light upon the arm, and never even think of putting their heads in the mouth of the man, but flutter gently so as to poise themselves in one spot about fifteen inches or so from the hand of the feeder. He throws up bits among them, and they invariably catch them with slight deviation from their fluttering position, or at most with a little curl. Sometimes the sparrows pluckily alight on the hand, and root out crumbs held between the finger and thumb, but this only in the case of very old friends. 18 CHAPTER II. THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE AND THE BOIS DE VINCENNES. The Bois de Boulogne. Tus park illustrates how we improve by friction, so to speak. Till 1852 the Bois was a forest ; but Napoleon IIL, in his admiration for English parks, determined to add their charms to Paris, or rather to improve upon them, and the Bois is one result. In concert with the municipality, the Emperor dug out the lakes, and made the waterfalls. As a combination of wild wood and noble pleasure garden, it is magnificent. The deer are placed in an enclosed space. The Bois is splendid too as regards size—containing more than 2000 acres, of which nearly half is wood, a quarter grass, one-eighth roads, and more than seventy acres water. Though with large expectations in other directions, the reader will hardly be prepared for the statement that the French beat us in parks. When first entered this may not be much liked, the numerous Scotch pines around one part of the water giving it a somewhat barren look, but a few miles’ walk through it soon dispels this idea. It has more than the beauty and finish of any London park in some spots, but, on the other hand, vast spreads of it are covered with a thick, small, and somewhat scrub-like wood, in which wild flowers grow abundantly, unlike the prim London parks. There are plenty of wild cowslips dotted over even the best kept parts of it in spring, while the planting on and near the islands is far superior to anything to be witnessed in our own parks. To see what the Bois de Boulogne really is, the visitor should keep to the left when he enters from Passy or the Arc de Triomphe, and go right to the end of the two pieces of ornamental water. Then, standing with his back to the water, he will notice an “4NOO1TNOd Yd SIOP AHL NI SGNVISI GNV ANVT FHL “XI ALW Id THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. 19 elevated spot, and by going to that spot he will enjoy one of the finest views he has ever seen in a public park—the water in one direction looking like an interminable inlet, beautifully fringed with green and trees, while in the other several charming views are opened up, showing the hilly suburban country towards Boulogne, St. Cloud, and that neighbourhood. Then, by turning to the right and returning to Paris by the west side of the water, he will have a pretty Fia. 9. One of the small lakes in the Bois de Boulogne. good idea of what a noble promenade, drive, and garden this is. It is in all respects worthy of its grand approaches, of the width and boldness of which those who have not seen Paris can have no conception. There is some bold rock- work attempted and well done about the artificial water; and very creditable pains are taken to make the vegetation along it diversified in character, so that at one place you meet conifers, at another rock shrubs, in another Magnolias, and so on ; without the eternal repetition of common things which one too often sees at home. At Longchamps, near the racecourse, which attracts half Paris to this part of the wood on fine Sundays, there is a large and ambitious cas- c2 20 THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. cade. Above the spring or shoot of the cascade is an arch of rustic rocks, over which fall ivy and rock shrubs, the whole being backed with a healthy rising plantation. Although made at great expense, this cascade cannot be pronounced a happy one; to me it is less pleasing than the less pretentious ones at the head of the large lakes. The fault of the most frequented part of the Bois de Boulogne is that the banks which fall to the water are in some parts a little too suggestive of a railway embankment, and display but little of that indefiniteness of gradation and Fie. 10. SSS Grand cascade in the Bois de Boulogne. outline which we find in the true examples of the real “English style” of laying out grounds. But you do not notice this from the position above described, from whence indeed the scene is charming. The fault just hinted at is common to almost every example of this style to be seen about Paris ; and in most of their walks, mounds, and the turnings of their streams, you can detect a family likeness and a style of curvature which is certainly never exhibited by nature, so far as we are acquainted with her in these latitudes. But it is only justice to say that, taking the park as a whole, it is far before our London ones in point of design. THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. 21 Apart from the perfect keeping of the whole, the chief lesson to be learnt here by the English planter is the value of paying far greater attention than we at present do to artistic planting of choice hardy trees and shrubs. The islands seen from the margin of the lakes are at all times beautiful, in consequence of the presence of a varied collec- tion of the finest shrubs and trees tastefully disposed. They show at a glance the immense superiority of permanent embellishment over fleeting annual display. The planting of these islands was expensive at first, and required a good Fig. 11. Winter scene on the lake in the Bois de Boulogne. knowledge of trees and shrubs, besides a large amount ot taste in the designer ; but it is so done that were the hand of man to be removed from them for half a century they would not suffer in the least. Nothing could be easier than to find examples of gardens quite as costly in the first instance, which, while involving a yearly expenditure, would be ruined by a year’s neglect. It is summer, and along the margins of these islands you see the fresh pyramids of the deciduous cypress starting from graceful surroundings of hardy bamboos and pampas grass, and far beyond a group of bright silvery Negundo in the midst of dark-green vegeta- 22 THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. tion, with scores of tints and types of tree-form around. It is spring, and the whole scene is animated by the cheerful flush of bloom of the many shrubs that burst into blossom with the strengthening sun, and while the oaks are yet leaf- less the large swollen flower-buds of the splendid deciduous Magnolias may be seen conspicuous at long distances through the other trees. In autumn the variety and richness of the tints of the foliage offer a varied picture from week to week ; and in winter the many picturesque and graceful forms of the deciduous trees among the evergreen shrubs and pines offer the observant eye as much interest as at any other season. Looking deeper than the immediate results, we may see how the adoption of the system of careful permanent plant- ing enables us to secure what I consider the most important point in the whole art of gardening—variety, and that of the noblest kind. Mr. Ruskin tells us that “change or variety is as much a necessity to the human heart in build- ings as in books; that there is no merit, though there is some occasional use, in monotony; and that we must no more expect to derive either pleasure or profit from an architecture whose ornaments are of one pattern, and whose pillars are of one proportion, than we should out of a uni- verse in which the clouds were all of one shape and the trees all of one size.” These words apply to public gardens with even greater force. In them we need not be tied by the formalism which comfort, convenience, and economy require the architect to bear in mind, no matter how widely he diverges from the commonplace in general design. In garden or in park there is practically no noticeable tie ; in buildings there are many. Vegetation varies every day in the year. In buildings more than on any other things unchangeableness is stamped. In the tree and plant world we deal with things by no means remotely allied to our- selves—their lives, from the unfolding bud to the tottering trunk, are as the lives of men. In the building we deal with things much less mutable, which have a beginning and ending like all others, but their changes are much less apparent to our narrow vision. Therefore the opportunity “ANODOTNOG Ad SIOG THI NI SAaVOSVO IMA ALVId THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. 23 for variety is beyond comparison greater in public or private gardening than in the building art, or indeed in any other art whatever. Without the garden, Lord Bacon tells us, “ Buildings and pallaces are but grosse handy works: and a man shall ever see that when ages grow to civility and elegancie, men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely: as if gardening were the greater perfection.” As yet we are far from perfection as builders, and the garden holds still the relationship to the building art which is described by Bacon. Indeed, it is more backward; for in a day when building has eloquent champions to put in some such pleas as that quoted, and, moreover, give us practical illustrations of their meaning, we can find no proof that any knowledge of the all-important necessity for variety exists in the minds of those who arrange or manage our gardens, public or private. And yet this unrecognised variety is the life and soul of high gardening. If people generally could sce this clearly, it would lead to the greatest improvement our gardening has ever witnessed. Considering the variety of vegetation, soil, climate, and position which we can com- mand, it is impossible to doubt that our power to produce variety is unlimited. The necessity for it is great. What is the broadly marked bane of the public as well as private gardening of the present day? The want of variety. What is it that causes us to take little more interest in the ordinary display of “bedding out,” fostered with so much care, than we do in the bricks that go to make up the face of a house? Simply the want of that variety of beauty which a walk along a flowery lane or over a wild heath shows us may be afforded by even the indigenous vegetation of one spot in a northern and unfavourable clime. But in our parks we can, if we will, have an endless variety of form, from the fern to the grisly oak and Gothic pine—inex- haustible charms of colour and fragrance, from that of the little Alpine plant near the snows on the great chains of ::: mountains, to the lilies of Japan and Siberia. And yet ..out of all these riches the fashion for a long time has been 24 THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. to select a few kinds which have the property of producing derise masses of their particular colours on the ground, to the almost entire neglect of the nobler and hardier vegeta- tion. The expense of the present system is great, and must be renewed annually, while the gratification is of the poorest kind. To a person with no perception of the higher charms of vegetation the thing may prove interesting, and to the professional gardener it is often so; but to anybody of taste and intelligence, busy in this world of beauty and interest, the result attained by the above method is almost a blank. ‘There can be little doubt that numbers are, un- known to themselves, deterred from taking any interest in the garden; in fact, it isa blank to them. They in conse- quence may talk or boast of having a “ good display,” &c., but the satisfaction from that is very poor indeed, compared with the real enjoyment of a garden. The one thing we want to do to alter this is to break the chains of monotony with which we are at present bound, and show the world that the “purest of humane pleasures” is for humanity, and not for a class, and a narrow one. Eyes everywhere among us are hungering after novelty and beauty ; but in our public gardens they look for it im vain as arule, for the presence of a few things that they are already as familiar with as with the texture of a gravel walk, must tend to impress them with an opinion that our art is the most inane of all, In books they everywhere find variety, and some interest, if high merit is rare ; the same is the case in painting, in sculpture, in music, and indeed in all the arts; but in that which shouid possess it more than any other, and is more capable of it than any other, there is ds a rule none to be found. ‘This is not merely the case with the flower-garden and its adjuncts; it prevails in wood, grove, shrubbery, and in everything connected with the garden. What attempt is made in our parks and pleasure grounds to give an idea of the rich beauty of which our hardy trees are capable, although these places afford the fullest opportunity to do so? How rare it is to see one-tenth of the floral beauty afforded by deciduous shrubs even suggested! Hitherto our gardening has been marked by two schools— “ANDOTNOD AC SIOM AHL NI SANVHOONOT YVAN SHOOU GNV WVAELS ‘*X ALVId THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. 25 one in which a few, or comparatively few, “ good things” are grown; the other, the botanic garden school, in which every obtainable thing is grown, be it ugly or handsome. What we want for the ornamental public garden is the mean between these two; we want the variety of the botanic garden without its scientific but very unnatural and ugly arrangement ; we want its interest without its weediness and monotony. There is no way in which the deadening formalism of our gardens may be more effectually destroyed than by the system of naturally grouping hardy plants. It may afford the most pleasing results, and impress on others the amount of variety and loveliness to be obtained from many families now almost unused. To suggest in how many directions we may produce the most satisfactory effects, I have merely to give a few instances. Suppose that in a case where the chief labour and expense now go for an annual display, or what some might call an annual muddle, the system is given up for one in which all the taste and skill and expense go to the making of features that do not perish with the first frosts. Let us begin, then, with a carefully selected collec- tion of trees and shrubs distinguished for their fine foliage— by noble leaf beauty, selecting a quiet glade in which to develope it. Ishould by no means confine the scene to this type alone, as it would be desirable to show what the leaves were by contrast, and to vary it in other ways—with bright beds of flowers if you like. It would make a feature in itself attractive, and show many that it is not quite neces- sary to resort to things that require the climate of Rio before you find marked leaf beauty and character. It would teach, too, how valuable such things would prove for the mixed collection. Many kinds of leaf might be therein developed, from the great simple-leaved species of the rhubarb type to the divided ones of Lindley’s spirea, and the taller Ailantus, Kolreuteria, Gymmocladus, &c. The fringes of such a group might well be lit up with beds of lilies, irises, or any showy flowers; or better still, by hardy flowering shrubs. An irregularly but artistically planted group of this kind would prove an everlasting source of 26 THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. interest; it might be improved and added to from time to time, but the original expense would be nearly all. Pass by this rather sheltered nook, and come to a gentle knoll in an open spot. Here we will make a group from that wonderful rosaceous family which does so much to beautify all northern and temperate climes. And what a glorious bouquet it might be made, with American and European hawthorns, double cherries, plums, almonds, pears, double peaches, &c., need hardly be suggested. You would here have a marked family likeness prevailing in the groups, quite unlike the monotony resulting from planting, say, five or six thousand plants of Rhododendron in one spot, as is the fashion with some; for each tree would differ conside- rably from its neighbour in flower and fruit. Then, having arranged the groups in a picturesque and natural way, we might finish off with a new feature. It is the custom to margin our shrubberies and ornamental plantings with a rather well-marked line. Strong-growing things come near the edge as a rule, and many of the dwarfest and prettiest spring-flowering shrubs are lost in the shade or crowding of more robust subjects. They are often overshadowed, often deprived of food, often injured by the rough digging which people usually think wholesome for the shrubbery. Now I should take the very best of these, and extend them as neat low groups, or isolated well-grown specimens, not far from, and quite clear of the shade of, the medium-sized or low trees of the central groupings. The result would be that choice dwarf shrubs like Ononis fruticosus, Prunus triloba, the dwarf peach and almond, Spirea prunifolia fi. pL, the double Chinese plum, and any others of the numerous fine dwarf shrubs that taste might select, would display a perfection to which they are usually strangers. It would be putting them as far in advance of their ordinary appear- ance, as the stove and greenhouse plants at our great flower shows are to the ordinary stock in a nursery or neglected private garden. It would teach people that there are many unnoticed little hardy plants which merely want growing in some open spot to appear as beautiful as any admired New Holland plant. The system might be varied as much as ‘ANDO1NOG Aad SIOd FHL NI LNVANVISAY ANV ANV'ISI ‘NA ALV 1d THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. Q7 ‘the plants themselves, while one garden or pleasure ground need no more resemble another than the clouds of to-morrow do those of to-day. In the rich alluvial soil in level spots, near water or in some open break in a wood, we might have numbers of the fine herbaceous families of Northern Asia, America, and Europe. These, if well selected, would furnish a type of vegetation now very rarely seen in this country, and flourish without the slightest attention after once being planted. In rocky mounds quite free from shade we might well display true Alpine vegetation, selecting dwarf shrubs and the many free-growing, hardy Alpines which flourish every- where. To turn from the somewhat natural arrangements, as the years rolled on, occasional plantings might be made to show in greatest abundance the subjects of greatest novelty or interest at the time of planting. In one select spot, for example, we might enjoy our plantation of Japanese ever- greens, many of them valuable in the ornamental garden; in another the Californian pines; in another a picturesque group of wild roses; and so on without end. Were this the place to do any more than suggest what may be done in this way in the splendid positions offered by our public gardens and parks, I could mention scores of arrangements of equal interest and value to the above. If the principle of annually planting a portion of a great park or garden of this kind were adopted instead of giving all the same routine attention after the first laying out, I am certain it would prove the greatest improvement ever introduced into our system of gardening. The embellishment of the islands in the Bois de Boulogne is very successful, but it is merely one of many fine results that artistic planting would secure. Plantations as full of interest and beauty might be made in other portions, and the fact is the vegetable kingdom is so wide that, although the combination of plant knowledge and taste necessary to success might not often be found in the designer, the materials for any number of varied pictures in vegetation could never fail. The principle here advocated should not only be applied to the details of one garden, but on a greater scale, and 28 THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. with even more satisfactory results, to all the gardens of any great city. Take a city with half a dozen parks, a score of squares, and perhaps numerous avenues and open places where trees or flowers might be grown—take, in fact, the public gardening of Paris or London at the present day. Now, in the ‘@mdinary course of things, several kinds of trees and plants, or several dozen kinds, will be found to do best in all these places, and under the usual management the same subjects will predominate in each. To the people who live in the neighbourhood of each the effect will be perhaps agreeable ; but it must become monotonous. To prevent people endeavouring to see any life or interest in vegeta- tion, the true way is to make a few things predominate everywhere. It is also a simple and easy way for the superintendents; there is no “ bother with it,” but there is also little pleasure, and little of that enthusiastic effort which is the highest of pleasures, and one only enjoyed by those who work at things for their own sakes. Innumerable beds of Cannas and Pelargoniums are better than nothing, no doubt, but are bad where the opportunity for a higher kind of embellishment exists. For the credit and encouragement of our city gardening, it is necessary that we confine ourselves to the better kind of trees, as many good kinds do not grow well in streets; but when it comes to the parks and open gardens, it is a very different matter. If each park and square in a city were arranged entirely different from every other, the enjoyment of those in the immediate neighbour- hood of each would be none the less, while the gardening treasures of the town would be greater in proportion to the number of parks or squares. A walk in any direction would reveal new charms to those having the slightest sympathy with nature, and help to sow the seed of love for it, were the ground ever so barren. A walk to distant parks or squares would furnish an object to the many, who might be expected to take an interest in gardens under such management; and objects for walks in towns and ‘cities cannot be too numerous. One park might display minute floral interest in all its BOIS DE BOULOGNE. Metres =F @ wo vov 30d $00 boo s000 THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. 29 ~yariations, with the larger subjects only used as the neces- sary setting, shelter, and greenery. Another, with a good soil and favourable exposition, might be made to show the dignity and variety of the forest trees of northern and temperate Europe, Asia, and America. One square might, like Berkeley-square in London, or the little squares in the Place Napoléon III. in Paris, be made very tasteful and effective from simple inexpensive materials—such as green grass, hardy shrubs, and trees. Another might display leaf- beauty so as to remind one of the vegetation of the South Sea Islands; another, chiefly the dwarf prairie and hill flora of cold and temperate countries; and so on— each class of vegetation to be considerately adapted to soil, conditions, and surroundings of the place as regards shelter, liability to foul vapours, position in relation to other gardens and avenues, and so on. In fact, this great principle of variety is capable of doing so much for public gardens, that it should be made compulsory on the heads of these establish- ments to make each as different from its brother as it possibly could be made. Carried out, then, as I have slightly indicated, both in the private and public place, gardening would be nearer to proving the “ greatest re- freshment to the spirits of man” than it has ever been in any age. There is one feature in the Bois de Boulogne which cannot be too strongly condemned—the practice of laying down here and there on some of its freshest sweeps of sloping grass enormous beds containing one kind of flower only. In several instances, near the very creditable planta- tions on the islands and margins of the lake, may be seen hundreds of one kind of tender plant in a great unmeaning mass, just in the positions where the turf ought to have been left free for a little repose between the very successful per- manent plantations. This is done to secure a paltry un- natural and sensational effect, which spoils some of the prettiest spots. Let us hope that some winter’s day, when the great beds are empty, they may be neatly covered with green turf. The Bois being rather level, heavy rains used to lie a 7 Y cs a o (=) : bs \ \\\ \\ Xs WARN ' Sy a CEE oC A f f _— = a oO Foal | jen) i) fan) ine) SE OTT THE BOIS Di "BOULOGNE. 31 long time on the surface of the roads, &c., before being absorbed ; to have remedied this by means of sewers would have cost about 160,000/., so the plan was adopted of con- structing a number of tanks at intervals, on an average, of 200 metres, and capable of containing from ten to twenty cubic metres of water each. These tanks are generally circular in form and crowned by a truncated cone—a form which of course requires less mason’s work than the rec- . tangular, the latter being adopted only when large trees in- terfere with the plan. These tanks are shown in fig. 12. The rectangular cisterns measure from four to six metres in length, one to two metres in width, and two to three metres in depth; they are arched at the top, and, like the circular ones, provided with a trapped hole, which serves, first, to with- draw the centrings, and afterwards to clean out the cisterns if they become choked with refuse carried down by the water ; the floor is uncovered, and barbicans are left in the footwalls to aid the escape of the water. These cisterns are placed either under the footpaths or m side alleys, so as not to interfere with the grass or the flower beds. The water is conveyed to the cisterns by means of drain pipes Ain. exterior diameter, the first joint being embedded in a mouthpiece of Portland cement, shown in the engraving. These mouthpieces are nearly 20in. in length; they are cast in wooden moulds, and cost 2f. 90c. per metre. Not far from the lower lake, and at about the centre of the Bois, occurs the Pré Catalan—an enclosed space, occa- sionally the scene of fétes, having several refreshment rooms, an open-air theatre, and a peculiar feature in the form of a cow-house, containing about eighty milch cows. The milk is sold to those who frequent the place, especially to horsemen who ride out from Paris for exercise in the early morning, and call here on their way to have a draught of new milk. These features, however, are kept well in the background, and the place generally bears the appearance of an ornamental garden, well worthy of a few minutes’ ‘inspection from any horticultural visitor who is traversing ‘the Bois or on the fashionable drive, which is near at hand. Gardeners mav be interested to learn that every year, e 32 THE. GARDEN OF ACCLIMATIZATION. on the 30th day of August, the féte of their order is held here, the patron saints being St. Fiacre and St. Rose. Here the gardeners of Paris and their friends assemble to the number of three or four thousand, and amuse them- selves with dancing, games, and the usual accompaniments of a Parisian féte, including fireworks, of course. As a garden, the Pré Catalan is distinguished by good specimens of standard Magnolias, both the evergreen grandiflora and the deciduous kinds, and large masses of flowers and fine- leaved plants. Apart from these, which are well known and extensively -employed elsewhere about Paris, I noticed that fine aquatic, Thalia dealbata—usually grown in stoves in England—in robust condition in the midst of a shallow running stream, the canna-like leaves large, handsome, and 22 inches long by 12 broad, and the flower stems 7 and 8 feet high (17th September). It is one of the handsomest and most distinct of all aquatic plants, quite different from the normal type, and should be much used with us. Erianthus Ravennz, an ornamental grass, was in flower at the same date, and 10 or 11 feet high. Lantana delicatissima was used as margining carpeting to some beds here. Simple and inconspicuous thing as it is, it is multiplied to the extent of from 12,000 to 20,000 every year, which may serve to give another idea of the way in which ornamental garden- ing is carried on by the mu- nicipality of Paris. ‘Garden of See Pa JARENTONNEAU. Choa cone é Metres 2 wo x00 doo “hoa Soo 7000 WATERING THE PARKS, 37 as boulevard trees in and near the Bois de Vincennes, and promise well. The Planera, it is hoped, will replace the elm in places where that is destroyed by the Scolytus; and the Cercis looked very fresh and well about the middle of September, and at the end of the very trying season of 1868. A plantation of about seven acres of Wellingtonias was made here about three years ago, and the plants are strong and good. Were it not for the ver blanc this would even now be a fine feature; but unfortunately very few speci- mens remain uninjured by this most terrible of pests. Some of the trees had formed good specimens, and showed what a noble wood of Wellingtonias would have been seen here were it not for this grub. Hares are rather plentiful here, and may be seen scampering over the open parts—quite an uncommon occurrence in a public park. To connect the Bois with the promenades in the neigh- bourhood, the plains of Bercy and St. Mandé, lying between the old boundaries of the wood and the walls of the fortifica- tions of Paris, were bought up, so that the new promenade, like the Bois de Boulogne, now begins at the very gates of the city. The pieces of water in the Bois de Vincennes, as well as the pipes by which the gardens are watered, are sup- plied from the river Marne. Here, as in other parks and gardens, the hottest and most arid weather merely makes the grass and plants greener and healthier, in consequence of the admirable arrangements for watering both turf, trees, and flowers. Watering the Parks. The climate of Paris being dryer than that of London, and the soil less conducive to the growth of grasses, the verdure maintained in the more ornamental parts of the Paris parks is naturally a source of some surprise to visi- tors. It is difficult to give the reader, who has not seen it himself, an idea of how perfectly the watering is done. The contrast between the parks and gardens of London and Paris is in this way by no means flattering to our way of managing them. It will be better to quote one of our jour- nals to represent our own side of the question. “ We have re- 38 WATERING THE PARKS. peatedly called the attention of the authorities during the summer to the melancholy state into which the parks were falling. The mischief we desired to guard against is now done. The grass is of the colour of hay, and the little of it that remains is being so rapidly trodden down that in many parts what used to be greensward is now nothing better than hard road.” So wrote the Pall Mall Gazette, one day last summer; and really, about the end of July and the beginning of August, nothing could look more unat- tractive than the London parks. These parks are supported at heavy public cost; and it is a great mistake to let them be rendered as brown and uninviting as the desert by an exceptional drought, which of course will happen at the very season when the grounds ought to be in per- fect beauty and attractiveness. The French system of watering gardens, &c., is excellent, or at least the generally adopted system; for at the Jardin des Plantes there are yet watering-pots made of thick copper, which are worthy of the days of Tubal Cain, but a disgrace to any more recent manufacturer, and a curse to the poor men who have to water with them. Generally Parisian lawns and gardens are watered every evening with the hose, and most effectively. It is so perfectly and thoroughly done, that they move trees in the middle of summer with impunity ; keep the grass in the driest and dustiest parts of Paris as green as an emerald, the softest and thirstiest of bedding plants in the healthiest state; and as for the roads, the way they are watered cannot be surpassed. They are kept agreeably moist without being muddy, while firm and crisp as could be desired. Of course all this is effected in the first imstance by having abundance of water laid on; but that is not all. With us, even where we have the water laid on, we too often spend an immense amount of labour in distributing it. In Paris generally it is applied with vari- ous modifications of the hose, which pours a vigorous stream, divided and made coarse or fine either by turning a cock, by the finger, or even by the force of the water. This is the way they apply it to roads, the smaller bits of grass about the Louvre, and other places; but when water- WATERING THE PARKS. 39 ing large spreads of grass in the parks the system is dif- ferent. One day in passing by the racecourse at Long- champs I saw it carried out in perfection. The space had become very much cut up by reviews and races; but in any case it is watered to keep it as green as possible in summer. At first sight it would appear a difficult thing to water a racecourse, but two men were employed in doing it effec- tually. Right across the whole open space from east to west stretched an enormous hose of metal, but in joints of say about six feet each. The whole was rendered flexible by these portions being joined to each other by short strong bits of leathern hose, each metal joint or pipe being sup- ported upon two pairs of little wheels. Fig. 17 shows a section of the appa- ratus at work. By Fig. 17, means of these the whole may be readily moved about without At about a yard or so apart along this pipe jets of water came forth all in one direction, and at an angle of about 45 deg., and spread out so as to fully sprinkle the ground on one side; and thus four feet or so of the breadth of the whole plain of Longchamps was being watered from one hose. There were two of these hoses at work, one man attending to each of them; the only at- tention required be- Fig. 18. ing to pass from one end of the line to the other, and push for- ward the hose as each 9 ~2":pweesie portion became suffi- Hose on wheels with double row of perforations. ciently watered. The. : simplest thing of all is the way they make the perforations for the jets along the pipe. They are simply little longitudinal holes driven in the pipe with a bit of steel. They must be made across the pipe, or the water will not spread in the 40 WATERING THE PARKS. desired direction. The wind causes the water to fall in the most divided form possible. With an apparatus thirty metres long a man can easily water 1500 square metres per hour, moving the hose three times. Of course the quantity of water depends on the force in the conduits and the length of the tubes. With a pressure of 22 metres and hose 820 metres long the quantity of water per metre and per minute is nearly two litres. The hydrants in the grass are placed about fifty metres apart, and the wheels of the trucks are of wood, in order not to cut the grass. There are many modes of spreading water in use about Paris, but none of them half as good as this simple method. More than a mile of this kind of hose may be seen at work at one time and with hundreds of jets playing. The hose for watering the roads is arranged on wheels also, but, as it must be at all times under command when carriages pass by, it has only one rose or jet, which is di- rected by a man who moves about among the carriages with the greatest ease, and keeps his portion of the road in capital condition. Of course it is a much cheaper way than carry- ing the water about as we do, as then we must have horse and cart, wear and tear, and man also; whereas, by having the water laid on, all the men have to do in watering is to attach the hose and commence immediately. In the same way as much work can be done in a garden in a day as with ten men by the ordinary mode; so that in the end it is much cheaper to have the water laid on. There can be no doubt that to the efficient watering much of the success of the fine foliaged plants in Paris gardens is to be attributed. As a good system of watering is of the highest importance to cities and towns in every region of the earth a more de- tailed and technical account of the watering of Paris gardens may prove useful to some. The article first appeared in the Engineer, and refers chietly to the arrangements for the Bois de Boulogne, but the system is the same for all other places. The watering is performed chiefly by means of long hose with a copper branch, the latter being provided with a stop- cock, so that the delivery of the water may be arrested instantly, without having to turn off at the plug. The hose ‘STHHHM NO ASOH CALVAOdAAd HLIM ‘SHUVd AHL NI SSVUO BHL ONIYALVYM JO AGOW ‘IX HZLVI1d WATERING THE PARKS. 4] is generally twelve metres long and 2in. in diameter; it is constructed either of leather, vulcanized india-rubber or canvas ; the first and second costing from 6s. to 6s. 8d. per yard, and the last only 10d. or lld. The screw connecting pieces, which are made of gun metal, cost about 6s. The leather hose, losing the oily matters from its pores, through the pressure of the water, soon becomes brittle, but it lasts on an average two years; the rubber is light and has no other fault but that of wearing out in twelve months, while the canvas hose soon cuts to pieces on the gravel. A sys- tem of mounting such tubes on small trucks so as to keep them from trail- ing on the ground, and consequently making them lighter to handle and more durable, was tried for a long time, but this has been superseded by a very simple and inexpensive inven- tion, that of tubes made of sheet iron, lined with lead and bitumen, and con- nected together by means of leather joint pieces, the whole being mounted on small wooden trucks. The cost of this apparatus complete, with the sin- gle exception of the branch, is only 70f., or 5f. 20c. per metre, and it will last on the average four years, while the old hose on trucks costs 127f., or nearly double. The cost of that now in use is made up as follows :—Eleven metres Fic. 19. Hose on wheels for watering roads, &c. of iron tubes, 19f. 25c.; leather junction pieces, 25f. 60c. ; ten trucks 20f.; ligatures, 5f. 15c.; total, 70f. The appa- ratus in use at the present moment in Paris consists of five tubes, each about 6ft. long, and a shorter one to which the 42 WATERING THE PARKS. branch is attached, so that only five trucks are required ; the trucks also in practice consist of a piece of plain wood, a little more than _a foot in length, the tube being bolted on to the upper side and the run- ners fixed to the lower. As regards the connexion of the joints, this is made sometimes with brass flanges, but a joint which answers equally well, and is much cheaper and lighter, is that made with copper wire; for the branch joint, however, brass flanges are always used, as the branch itself is removed and carried away when not in use, while the tubes are simply folded toge- ther, fastened with a piece of cord, and left in any conve- nient corner. It is found in practice that a man cannot manage an apparatus of this kind, which is more than about 40ft. long ; but for watering grass, in which case the hose is left stationary in one place for some time and then moved to another, several apparatus are, if necessary, screwed on to Fic. 20. Details of the preceding figure. WATERING THE PARKS, 43 each other. The effects of these tubes or hose have been carefully studied. The following is a table of results with a twelve metre apparatus, the inner diameter of the nozzle of the branch being 0:012 metres, or rather less than half an inch, and the branch itself being held at an angle of 45 deg.:— Pressure at the Quantity of water Extent of the Quantity of water surface. given per second, jet. pani when the ranch is not on. Metres. Litres. { Metres, Litres, 8 0°90 i 10 1°80 12 Bite: | 12 2°40 15 1-40 14 275 20 1°60 15 3°10 25 1:80 15 3:40 30 190 15 3 60 35 2:00 16 3°80 46 210 16 4:00 These results, it is stated, are averages, for some appa- ratus give superior or different results, although all the conditions appear the same. Experience shows that with the same amount of pressure in the pipes the extent of the jet is enormously reduced by the lengthening of the hose. Of course the diameter of the nozzle of the branch depends on the pressure within the tubes, but it was thought neces- sary to have a uniform model, and 0:012 metres was adopted as distributing the water most advantageously with a pres- sure of eight to fifteen metres. An apparatus twelve metres long, with a branch one metre in length, and giving an average jet of twelve metres, is effective over a radius of twenty-five metres. The plugs or hydrants are placed at intervals of thirty metres on roads twenty metres wide, and forty metres apart in narrower roads, when they are all on one side of the road. Formerly all the roads in and about Paris were watered by means of carts which held one ton of water. It required twenty-four tonsto water the Avenue de l’Impératrice properly, the road round the lakes, and some few others. The whole of the roads in the Bois de Boulogne, as they now stand, would require ninety tons of water, which would cost, men, horses, and carts included, 13f. per ton, or 200,000f. (8000/.) for the 4A WATERING THE PARKS. six summer months. The new system of watering by hose costs for the whole of the Bois but 55,000f., or little more than a quarter of the expense under the old system. In this estimate, however, no account is taken either of the cost of the water itself or of the capital expended for its con- veyance. Finally, it is remarked, as regards the Bois de Boulogne, that the cost is, in fact, little more than that of the maintenance of the apparatus in repair, or about 250/. a year, the work being done by the body of men called cantonniers, who have little else to do during the summer months. A water cart drawn by one horse, in cases where the hydrants are 400 metres apart, will water 1300 metres an hour over a width of four and a half metres—that is to say, a cart will water about 6000 square metres, using in the operation three tons of water. But im the parks it was found that the cart should pass over every spot once in the hour, and this gives, with an average of seven hours’ effec- tive work, an expenditure of three and a half litres, or more than seven pints per day per square metre. The cost of labour, cart, and horse is given at about 10f. per day, so that the actual expense per ton and per square metre stands thus, sas 0'00165f. In calculating the cost of watering by means of hose and branch, the hydrants or plugs must necessarily be much more numerous, the intervals between them being in the case- of watering by cart 400 metres, while in the case of the hose the intervals are on an average only thirty-five metres. The total length of the roads to be watered in the Bois de Boulogne is 53,000 metres, and the number of hydrants 1500, whereas under the old system 132 would have sufficed, a difference of 1880 hydrants, costing 4/. each, or 4s. a year for interest, and, in addition, 4s. for repairs, &. The latter is con- tracted for at the following rate—namely, eight centimes per metre, or about three farthings a yard run of conduit, and 4s. per hydrant. A hundred and twenty men are required for watering the 540,000 square metres of road in the Bois; in five hours a man waters 4500 metres of road three times over, ‘SNIDUVW UYIAHL ANV ‘SAVMLOO ‘STAIN ‘SAVON ONINALVM AO AGOW WATERING THE PARKS. A5 besides watering the side paths once, which the carts of course did not touch. The cost is given as follows :-— Francs. Interest and Maintenance of ee ’ = Ig 13,800 Cost and repair of hose, &c. : : 6,200 Wages of 120 men at half a day for six x months . : - 85,000 Total . . : . . 55,000 The surface watered being, in round numbers, 600,000 square metres, and the average number of days 180, the cost per square metre and per day is 550,000 180 x 600,000 showing a great economy as compared with the expense of watering by cart. The hose and branch dispense (making allowance for interruptions caused by traffic and by moving the apparatus) a litre of water per second, or 18,000 litres in five hours ; the quantity is therefore about the same as that dispensed by cart, only it is effected in five instead of seven hours. Previous to the general adoption of the hose and branch, experiments were tried with small handcarts con- taining a quarter of a ton, and drawn by two men, but these were found to cost more than the old carts. Another method of keeping roads and pathways in order, namely, by the application of deliquescent salts, is inte- resting from its novelty. The salts used are chloride of magnesium or of calcium. The former salt does not exist in commerce, but large quantities have been obtained from the residue of the manufacture of carbonate of soda, at a cost of 15f. the 100 kilogrammes; it may, however, be produced for less than a third of that rate. The salt is well calcined (in order to make it lose as much of its water as possible), and then coarsely pulverized; it is sprinkled over the road by hand. The effects of this deliquescent salt, as compared with those of water, are not uniform ; in the case of roads with much traffic the salt is twice as dear as water, because of the necessity of constant renewal, but in side paths and roads with little traffic the salt was found far more economical. The use of deliquescent salts has this =0-00051, 46 WATERING THE PARKS. great advantage, namely, that it does not interfere in any way with the circulation, and maintains the pathways clear of dust or mud, while of course in places where there is no grass to be watered the whole of the cost of water-pipes and hydrants would be saved. The surface of grass which has to be watered with Seine water in the Bois de Boulogne is about 250 acres, and the quantity of water required to keep it in good condition averages ten litres, or more than two gallons, per square metre, every third day. To water this surface in the same manner as the roads would require more than a hundred Hose allowed to play on the grass and shifted from time to time. hose working ten hours a day, and this would entail a very heavy cost. But as the grass does not require to be treated with the same regularity as the roads one system adopted is to place a branch on a stand at an angle of 45 deg., and allow it to play over the grass for a certain time, when it is removed to another spot: in this way one man can manage ten apparatus. The total amount of water taken from the Seine for the purposes of the Bois never exceeds 240 litres, or about fifty-four gallons, per second. The natural meadows by the side of the Seine form about 400 acres, but the soil here is WATERING THE PARKS. 47 alluvial, and therefore irrigation is only necessary in very hot weather, whereas the soil upon which the artificial grass is planted is nearly all sand, and the greatest care is required to keep the turf in order. The total cost of the arrangements of conduits and pipes for the supply of water to the Bois and the avenues leading to it is given at 1,520,000f., or 60,800/.; the number of stop-cocks is 385, and of hydrants 1600; and the length of the conduit is 66,200 metres. It results from these figures that the cost of the whole has amounted to 22f. 97c., or about 18s. 5d. per metre. AS CHAPTER III. THE PARC MONCEAU. Tuts ison the whole the most beautiful garden in Paris, and well shows the characteristics of the system of horticultural decoration so energetically adopted in that city. It is not large, but exceedingly well stored, and usually displays a vast wealth of handsome exotic plants in summer. In spring it is radiant with the sweet bloom of early-flowering shrubs and trees, every bed and bank being covered with pansies, Alyssum, Aubrietia, and all the best known of the spring flowers, while thrushes and blackbirds are whistling in the adjacent bushes, as if they were miles in the country, instead of only a few minutes’ walk from the Rue du Fau- bourg St. Honoré. This park was laid out so long ago as 1778 for Philip Egalité as an “ English garden,” and passed through various changes, till it at last fell into the hands of the Municipality of Paris, a very astute corporation, who have converted it into a charming garden, and are not likely to part with it in a hurry. The system of planting adopted here as well as in the other gardens of the city is often striking, often beautiful, and not unfrequently bad. It is striking when you see a number of that fine showy tree, Acer Negundo variegata, arranged in one great oval mass, silvery and bright; it is beautiful when you see some spots with single specimens and tasteful beds, every one differing from its neighbour ; and bad when you meet with about a thousand plants of one variety stretched around a collection of shrubs, or flopped down in one large mass, or when a number of plants too tender for the climate are put out for the summer months amidst those that grow with the greatest luxuriance. “The subtropical system will never do for England!” say THE PARC MONCEAU. 49 some practical men. The truth is, that it requires to be done very carefully in Paris,and there is a great mistake made by putting out a host of tender plants merely because they are exotics, unless indeed you wish to contrast healthy beauty with ragged ugliness. In the Pare Monceau there is usually a group of Musa Ensete worth making a journey to see, and masses of Wigandia, Canna, and such Solanums as Warce- wiczil, that are worthy of association with it; but I have also seen there beds of Begonias without a good leaf or a particle of beauty—scraggy stove plants, with long crooked legs, and a few tattered leaves at the top, and poor standard plants of the sweet-verbena at the same time. If it were an experimental ground, one would not mind, of course; but this, in a garden where its omission would leave almost nothing to be desired, is too bad. In some respects this park is really unequalled, and therefore one regrets the more to see these blemishes, which let us hope will not be repeated. What first excites the admiration of the visitor used to the monotonous and highly-toned type of garden now seen so much with us is the variety, beauty of form, and refresh- ing verdure which characterize this garden—-good qualities that are so often absent in too many of our own. The true garden is a scene which should be so delightfully varied in allits parts—so bright, so green, so freely adorned with the majesty of the tree, the beauty of the shrub, the noble lines of the fine-leaved plant, the minute beauty of the dwarfer plants of this world ; so perpetually interesting, with vegeta- tion that changes with the days and seasons, rather than puts the stamp of monotony on the scene for months; and so stored with new or rare, neglected or forgotten, curious or interesting plants—that the simplest observer may feel that indefinable joy which lovers of nature derive from her charms amidst such scenes, but which few, except those of a high degree of sensitiveness and power of expres- sion, like Shelley, can give utterance to. It would be teaching him to use the words of Goethe— “To recognise and love His brothers in still grove, Or air or stream.” 50 THE PARC MONCEAU. If any good at all isto be done by means of flowers and gar- dens, you must give men a living interest, a lasting curiosity in them, and some other objects than those which can be taken in by the eye in a moment. Numbers are occupied and delighted with gardening as it stands at present, but it can hardly be doubted that a system with something like an aim at true art would be sure to attract many more; and it is patent that there are numbers even among the educated classes who take no interest whatever in the garden, simply because they can in few places find any real beauty or interest in it. To confine ourselves to a single phase of the subject, it is certain that if all interested in flower gar- dening had an opportunity of seeing the charming effects produced by judiciously intermingling fine-leaved plants with brilliant flowers, and of which there are such handsome examples in this park, there would be an immediate revolu- tion in our flower-gardening, and verdant grace and beauty of form would be introduced, and all the brilliancy of colour that could be desired might be seen at the same time. The beauty and finish- of many of the finer beds here, are of the highest order, in consequence of the adoption of the prin- ciple of variety. Here is a bed of Erythrinas not yet in flower : but what affords that brilliant and singular mass of colour beneath them, a display which makes the visitor pause when he comes near the bed? Simply a mixture of the lighter varieties of Lobelia speciosa with variously coloured and brilliant Fortulaccas. The beautiful surfacings that may thus be made with annual, biennial, or ordinary bedding plants, from mignonette to Alternanthera, are infinite. At the risk of driving off the general reader we must now begin to use hard names, and go deeper into purely technical and horticultural matters, for we shall not else- where meet an opportunity of doing so with so much advantage. It is only fair to warn the reader that this is a purely horticultural chapter. The following are a few examples of these graceful mixtures seen in this garden during the past year :—A bed of Arundo Donax versicolor, springing from Lobelia speciosa; a bed of Ficus elastica, the ground beneath perfectly hidden by ‘MAING FHL WOWA MAIA : AVAONOW OUVd AHL “ALX ULV Id THE PARC MONCEAU. 51 luxuriant mignonette ; Wigandia, springing from the little silvery sea produced by the mixture of the blue and white varieties of Brachycome iberidifolia; Caladium esculentum, from a rich surface of flowering Petunias ; glowing Hibiscus, from Gnaphalium; graceful dwarf Dracenas, from very dwarf Alternantheras; Aralias, from Cuphea; taller Dra- cenas, from a deep and richly-toned mass of Coleus Ver- schaffeltii ; Erythrina, from a sweet low carpet of soft purple Lantana; tall Solanums, on mats of that most finished little plant Nierembergia; sea-green Bocconias, from the dwarf dark-toned Oxalis corniculata var., and so on. Reflect for a moment how consistent is all this with the best garden- ing, and the purest taste. Your bare earth is covered quickly with these free-growing dwarfs; there is an imme- diate and a charming contrast between the dwarf-flowering and the fine-foliaged plants; and should the last at any time put their heads too high for the more valuable things above, they can be cut in for a second bloom, as was the case with some Petunias here which had got a little too high for their slow-growing superiors. In the case of using foliage plants that are eventually to cover the bed com- pletely, annual plants may be sown, and they in many cases will pass out of bloom and may be cleared away just as the large leaves begin to cover the ground. Where this is not the case, but the larger plants are placed thin enough to always allow of the lower ones being seen, two or even more kinds of dwarf plants may be employed, so that the one may succeed the other, and that there may be a mingling of bloom. It may be thought that this kind of mixture would in- terfere with what is called the unity of effect that we attempt to attain in our flower-gardens. This need not be so by any means; the system could be grandly used in the most formal of gardens laid out on the massing system pure and simple; besides, are there not positions in every place where such arrangements could be made without inter- fering with what is sometimes called the “flower garden proper”? Some may say we cannot grow the fine-leaved plantsin England. But this is not so. The most ie E 52 THE PARC MONCEAU. bed of those above enumerated was that composed of varie- gated Arundo and Lobelia—the former a plant that may be readily grown on good soils in Britain, and merely requiring the protection of a little ashes, refuse, or an old mat over the crown in winter, even in soils that are not particularly favourable, while the Lobelia is one of the many fragile and delicately pretty little plants that do perhaps best of all in England. The fact is, we can find numbers of plants among the hardy and free-growing kinds, which will enable us to enjoy all the desired variety and diversity, even if we cannot wisely venture to plant out Wigandias and coloured Dracenas except in the more favoured districts of southern England and Ireland. One of the most useful and natural ways of diversifying and dignifying a garden, and one that we rarely or never take advantage of, is abundantly illustrated here, and as it: is perhaps the most important lesson to be learnt in the garden, we will discuss it at some length. It simply con- sists in placing really distinct and handsome plants alone upon the grass, to break the monotony of clump margins and of everything else. They may be placed singly or in open groups, near the margins of a bold clump of shrubs or in the open grass; and the system is applicable to all kinds of hardy, ornamental subjects, from trees downwards, though in our case the want is for the fine-leaved plants and the more distinct hardy subjects. Nothing, for in- stance, can look better than a well-developed tuft of the broad-leaved Acanthus latifolius, springing from the turf not far from the margin of the walk through a pleasure ground ; and the same is true of the Yuccas, Tritomas, and other things of like character and . hardiness. We may make attractive : groups of one family, as the hardiest Yuccas ; or splendid groups of one species like the Pampas grass—not: by any means repeating the indivi- dual, for there are about twenty va- Groups and sing pees rieties of this plant known on the of plants isolated on the ‘ ilies Continent, and from these half a THE PARC MONCEAU. 53 :, dozen really distinct and charming kinds might be selected to form agroup. The same applies to the Tritomas, which we usually manage to drill into straight lines: in an isolated group in a verdant glade, they are seen for the first time to best advantage ; and what might not be done with these and their like by making mixed groups, or letting each plant stand distinct upon the grass, perfectly isolated in its beauty ! Let us again try to simply illustrate the idea. Take an important spot in a pleasure ground—a sweep of grass in face of a shrubbery, and see what can be done with it by means of these isolated plants. If, instead of leaving it in the bald state in which it is often found, we try to place distinct things in an isolated way upon the grass, the margin of shrubbery will be quite softened, and a new and charming feature added to the garden. Fie, 23. * Yucca flaccida. % Arundo Donax variegata. x Retinospora, sps. * Acanthus Lusitanicus. eg Pampas grass. * % Canna nigricans. Group of Tritoma grandis. * * % Statice latifolia. Rheum Emodi. Ferula glauca. Fine herbaceous and other plants isolated on the grass. Tf one who knew many plants were arranging them on the ground, and had a large stock to select from, he might make no end of striking effects. In the case of the smaller things, as the Yucca and variegated Arundo, groups of four or five good plants should be used to form one mass, and everything should be perfectly distinct and isolated, so that a person could freely move about amongst the plants without touching them. In addition to such arrangements, two or three individuals of a species might be placed here 54 THE PARC MONCEAU. and there upon the grass with the best effect. For example, there is at present in our nurseries (I once saw quantities of it preparing for game covert at Mr. Standish’s, of Bagshot) a great Japanese Polygonum, which has never as yet been used with much effect in ‘the garden. If anybody will select some open grassy spot in a pleasure ground, or grassy glade near a wood —some spot considered unworthy of attention as regards ornamenting it— and plant a group of three plants of it, leaving fifteen feet or so between mec) =the stools, a distinct aspect of vege- Portion of plan showing tation will be the result. The plant is Masse oe ied herbaceous, and will spring up every isolated on the fe i year to a height of from six feet to eight feet if planted well; it has a graceful arching habit in the upper branches, and is covered with a profusion of small pale bunches of flowers in autumn. It is needless to multiply examples—the plan is capable of infinite variation, and on that account alone should be welcome to all true gardeners. The diagram with the names is far too formal, and merely given to more fully explain the system. ‘The little plans show better the irregular way in which the plants ought to be disposed. The preceding part of this chapter was written in 1867; but as this park is so full of interest and instruction for all practically interested in the decoration of the flower-garden, the following description, written on the spot during the early part of last September, may be of some interest to the horticultural reader :— Entering the park from the Boulevard Malesherbes we pass along an avenue of plane trees that leads from the high and ornamental gates. The walk on each side is bordered with roses in lines of different colours—the front row well pegged down. ‘They form long borders on each side, and are very ornamental in early summer. A carriage road leads through the park, so that it may be seen by those THE PARC MONCEAU. 55 who drive through—but imperfectly, as the more interesting objects are along the shady side and boundary walks. On each side of the central drives glimpses are caught of very diversified and graceful foliage and flowers, but conspicuous on the margin is a great mass of Caladium, with leaves three feet long and two and a half feet wide, springing from a groundwork of blue Lobelia. You can have no real beauty in an ornamental garden without the aid of full grown trees, their majesty producing an effect which cannot be dispensed with. Here they approach the drive in groups, sometimes overshading plan- tations of dense shrubs, at others springing clean from the grass. In some places they are so crowded as to make one wish for a little breath, in others they disappear, and spreads of grass and dwarfer plants permit the eye to range. On one side of the route may be noticed a hardy bamboo with black polished stems, and rods ten, twelve, and fourteen feet high ; on the other, one with yellow stems of about the same height. An old specimen of the Abyssinian Musa is vigorously pushing up a massive flower shoot scarcely yet seen through the leaves, and in consequence they are by no means so ornamental as those of younger plants which devote all their energy to foliage. Tree ferns, and the curious and graceful Beaucarnea with the great swollen base, are seen here and there, the Beaucarnea apparently not a first-rate subject for placing in the open air. Next tothe great Musa Ensete, the best Banana is the well-known edible Musa Cavendishii : it is in perfect health, emerging from a mass of Tradescantia zebrina ; the leaves twenty-fourto thirty inches long, and not often lacerated. A great mass of the variegated Acer—several hundred trees—is margined with rose-coloured geraniums, and all the space between filled with Dablias, Salvias, and the like: a good plan, inasmuch as it prevents a naked base. Groups of palms, single specimens of birch (as graceful as any exotic), and fine out-arching specimens of the hardy Polygonum Sieboldi form the most notable features of the central drive. Palms from regions comparatively temperate, like the dwarf fan palm of the south of Europe, the Palmetto of the Southern 56 THE PARC MONCEAU. United States, the Seaforthia, and some others, bear the open air of summer without injury, and add a very striking and valuable aid to the scene. From the cross- drive groups of Yuccas, rather thinly placed in masses of dwarf flowers and plants, a large specimen of the Angelica tree in flower, a mass of the Papyrus of the Nile, and tall specimens of Colocasia odorata, are the most conspicuous of the objects that approach the margin. Again, commencing at the Boulevard. Malesherbes en- trance, and this time turning to the left, we meet with masses of Musa rosacea, Blechnum, Lomaria magellanica, the older specimens with stems two feet high; Nicotiana wigandioides ; a telling, dark bronzy mass of Canna atro- nigricans, with some of the larger leaves two feet long, and the stems nearly seven feet high; groups of Latania plunged in the grass ; and large leaved Begonias dotted amongst dense masses of Tradescantia zebrina. These Begonias do not grow well enough to warrant their being put out in our latitudes except under the most favourable conditions. Next come masses of Hibiscus, rather sparing of their great red flowers ; numerous specimens of handsome plants isolated on the grass, from double scarlet Pomegranates to Thuja aurea and Clianthus Dampieri; masses of india-rubber plants with groundwork of mignonette, of Wigandia macrophylla with groundwork of Coleus, of silvery Solanum marginatum with groundwork of dwarf herbaceous Aster, of Tupidanthus in carpet of Cuphea, and of variegated Arundo in one of ‘German Aster. A mass of Caladium bataviense, with leaves three and a half feet long and dark stems, is very imposing. As a foliage plant, it is second to no other employed in Parisian gardens, though hitherto C. escu- lentum has generally been considered to be the best. Here there are large masses of both it and bataviense. Usually C. bataviense makes leaves larger than C. esculentum, and as a rule its leaves are the largest this year, but the biggest specimens of the year were of esculentum, of which the largest measured four feet seven inches long, bataviense reaching four feet one inch. C. esculentum best withstands the winds, the leaves of C. bataviense often getting broken PLATE XY. er FINE-LEAVED PLANTS IN THE PARC MONCEAU. Caladium. Aralia. Phoenix. Musa Ensete. Yureca, THE PARC MONCEAU. 57 by them, so that many of the finer leaves made during the season were lost before September, their great stumps showing how vigorous they had been. It is usually and from the same cause denuded of leaves about the base 3 C. esculentum retaining them. The leaf-stalks of bataviense are of a dark hue, by which it is easily distinguished from esculentum with its pale green leaf-stalks. The stems of bataviense are also much larger than those of the escu- lentum, a few of those growing here being ten inches in diameter. Of the Ficuses grown here, the best is yet the old F. elastica ; but Chauvieri is also good, and Porteana has done well this season, though the Parisian summers are usually too cold for it; its leaves were fifteen inches long. Yucca aloifolia is hardy here. A fine old plant of it, ten feet high, and with a considerable portion of the stem naked, was in perfect health. Every winter the stem is protected as far as the leaves, and the snow prevented from remaining on these. Melia Azederach is also hardy here—at least, it has stood out during the past winter ; and as its large compound leaves would prove so useful in the flower-garden, it should be tried out in favourable parts of England. Andropogon formosum does well here, and a group of Dasylirions are plunged in the grass. The Erythrinas are a fine feature, the old E. crista-galli being considered the best on the whole; but E. ruberrima is very fine from its hue of scarlet and crimson. Bocconia frutescens is five and a half feet high, with leaves two and a half feet long ; and an Encephalartos is fine as an isolated specimen. Agave americana is left in the garden during winter and protected, but with more trouble and cost than would be incurred by taking it indoors. A mode of train- ing various flowering climbers up the stems of trees is worthy of special notice. Clematises, honeysuckles, various kinds of ivy, everlasting peas, and many other kinds of climbing plants may be used in this way with good ef- fect. There is one plant grown here in quantity, which is rarely seen in England, but which should be in every English garden—Funkia subcordata, a dwarf, hardy 58 THE PARC MONCEAU. plant with snowy white flowers sweeter than orange- blossom. Two large carriage drives, laid out so as to interfere as little as possible with the old plantations, run through the park from one end to the other, and form a continua- tion of the boulevards leading to it. These drives are closed by iron gates of a highly ornamental character. The area of the park is about twenty-two English acres, of which thirteen are in turf, and five planted with flowers, shrubs, and trees, the remainder being devoted to walks and the small and unhappy piece of water. The total cost of alteration was over 48,000/. The work was begun in the month of January, 1861, and finished in August of the same year. 59 CHAPTER IV. THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. Tuis is the boldest attempt at what is called the picturesque style that has been attempted either in Paris or London. It is hardly wise to attempt expensive and extraordinary works in places of this sort, at least till all the densely populous parts of a city are provided with open, well-planted spaces. Thus in London it is a mistake to devote great expense to a few parks, and leave so many square miles of population without a green spot. But in this instance an unusual attempt was to some extent invited by the peculiar nature of the ground. The whole park may be described as a sort of diversified Primrose Hill with two or three “peaks and valleys,” and an immense pile of rock seen here and there. At its hollow or lower end there was a quarry, and this has been taken advantage of to produce a grand feature. They have cut all round three sides of this quarry, smoothed it down, leaving intact the great side of stone, and adding to it here and there masses of artificial rock. This forms a very wide and imposing cliff, 164 feet high, or thereabouts, in its highest parts, and from these you may gradually descend to its base by a rough stair, exceed- ingly well constructed, and winding in and out of the huge rocky face. At the base of the cliff, and widely spreading round it, there is a lake. This ponderous cliff has several wings, so to speak, and in one bay has been constructed a large stalactite cave, about sixty feet high from its floor to the ceiling, and wide and imposing in proportion. At its back part the light is let in through a wide opening, show- ing a gorge reminding one of some of those in the very tops of the Cumberland mountains, and down this trickles the 60 THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. water into the cave, ivy and suitable shrubs being planted along its course above the roof of the cave. The effect is remarkably striking, though it is hardly the kind of thing to be recommended for a public park. By all means let us leave the luxuries of gardening out of the question, till we have provided the necessaries for the popu- lation of great towns, and these are green lawns, trees, and wide open streets and ways, with their necessary conse- quence, pure air. On one of the buttes, or great mounds here, they have planted 500 or 600 deodars—forming it a hill of deodars in fact. This is a mistake, for though Paris is not as foggy as Spitalfields, it is a great city, as may be seen from this park, and with many a vomiting chimney too, so that the better plan would be to pay double atten- tion to deciduous trees, using only such evergreens as are certain to grow. In one wide nook, perfectly sheltered on the three coldest sides, M. André planted a collection of subjects mostly tender in the neighbourhood of Paris. From this park, the surroundings of which are by no means attractive, you can look over nearly all Paris. The approach to it from the central parts is shabby for Paris, and on the way some idea of what the city was before the splendid improvements of the past ten years may be caught; but this approach, like most objectionable things there, is simply tolerated till more important ones are finished. Of the quick way in which they proceed with them, the reader can scarcely have a notion. I have seen acres of land removed to a depth of several yards without any fuss, and in a few weeks; miles of trees planted in the course of a single week; old suburbs blown up by hundreds of mines a day, and levelled into commanding terraces fit for princely mansions. One June day, bright, dry, and very warm, they were planting trees in this park, and large ones too—trees that required great machines to lift them—while they were marking the ground for fresh plantings. Do you plant after this date? I asked. Every day in the year! Of the larger trees some seem not to take well, and doubtless in consequence of summer-planting, for which there seems little excuse. “INONAWHS S1ILAg <1 ONVd AHL NI SddITO GNV GNVT ‘IAX FLW1d THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT., 61 The entrance is not promising—a hard-looking porter’s lodge, and a mass of badly-made rockwork face a mound, and from the rockwork springs an apparently quite un- necessary bridge. The rockwork is bad because, although superior in general design to the masses of burnt bricks that sometimes pass for it with us, it shows radical faults —presumption and unnaturalness. Instead of a true rock- work; something like a very puny attempt at reproducing the more insignificant ribs of Monte Campione is the result of plastering over a heap of stones. A hole is left here and there in this mass from which may spring a small pine. or an ivy, but the whole thing is incapable of being di- vested of its bald artificial character. One-fourth the quantity of natural blocks of stone, visible through the breaks in a mass of evergreens, would have been far better. By this means one could get the necessary elevation, con- cealing the basis of the stones with evergreens and trailing plants, and not sealing up the thing with cement in any part. The plastering of the joints merely makes the “rocks” look truly artificial, especially when it begins to drop out. Bold high green mounds meet us immediately after pass- ing under the ugly bridge at the entrance—here and there patched with very presentable shrubs—as is not rarely the case in Paris gardens. One girdle seems to bind both French and English, however, as regards the compact and formal outlines of these shrubberies and plantings. We know very well that in nature nothing of the kind ever occurs; that away from the wood strays the clump of low shrubs which do not seem to be gregarious like their pillared fellows of the forest; that indeed anything like straitlacing is unseen, Why then should we draw a cordon of regularity and sameness round our shrubberies in the shape of a line of some showy flower, making the whole thing change- less as possible? What calls for this definiteness? I know not unless it be that the mowing machine may have the less trouble in cutting the grass around. Imagine the British Museum or the Louvre arranged chiefly for the con- venience of the dusters! The sooner everybody having the 62 THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. interests of gardening in mind proclaims that variety and not formality should be the aim of all high gardening, the better for the progress of the art. In their clumps the French seem as straitlaced as ourselves, but in the newer gardens they have adopted a system of dotting about single specimens of individual beauty, which is very successful in breaking up formalism, and is well worthy of imitation. The chief feature of the place, as previously indicatéd, is the great cliff, and unhappily the chief feature of the rock is plaster, You can hardly approach it in any place with- out perceiving the seams of plaster giving out, and where this is not the case it is all palpably plastered. And why ? Perhaps the plasterer who made it could supply a reason ; but, whether he can or not, the sooner plasterers are dis- pensed with as imitators of nature in her grandest workings the better. There never was in a garden such a chance of presenting walls of rock-plants almost as striking and inte- resting as those one meets with in the pass over the Simplon ; yet it is entirely lost. By leaving the chinks and filling them here and there with turf, by chopping back or leaving the face of the high rocks sloping in some places so that they would be well exposed to the rainfall, by trickling a little streamlet over the face of the cliffs here and there, and by scattering a few packets of seeds over the face of the cliffs in spring, they would have given rise to an alpine vegetation of great beauty. The great long-leaved Saxi- frage of the Pyrenees might have spread forth its silvery rosettes here, so might its smaller relatives, its big brother of the Piedmontese valleys, and little Campanulas, Thymes, Erinuses, Brooms, Stonecrops, Houseleeks of many kinds, with hundreds of the prettiest plants of northern and tem- perate climes might have been grown here. Now all is daubed over and plantless, save a bit of ivy and wiry grass in some few spots ; and the face of the high rocks is suggestive of little but suicide. One of the few attempts to cultivate alpine plants out of pots that I have ever seen made in France is here, but it has been done on a mistaken principle. A tasteful and desirable practice in some of the newer gardens and parks PLATE XVII. BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT, THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. 63 of Paris, is that of conducting a tiny streamlet irregularly through the grass, and bordering it with water and marsh plants; here there are a few examples of it for the most part creditable. In one case, however, the streamlet in- stead of coming from any probable source of higher rock or brushwood, starts out of a plastered hole in the grass, in a way one cannot admire. By the side of this and a neigh- bouring streamlet alpine plants are placed, to grow here and there in little beds along the stream, and indeed now and then on a plastered spot in the middle. They are associated with such lowland marsh plants as the loose- strife; and in one instance a willow had started up and shaded some choice dwarf Saxifrages and Rhododendrons. It is creditable to attempt the cultivation of these plants here, but alpine plants can never be grown thus. If they could, it would be difficult to enjoy their native beauty or their tiny character alternated with such things as the bullrush and the flag! With the supply of water that these parks command, nothing could be easier than the creation of a rocky mound healthfully covered with true alpine plants. However, as no English landscape gardener has yet pre- sented us with a rockwork well covered with its proper ornaments, instead of merely ivy, Virginian creeper, &c., it would be captious to find fault with the French for failing in a branch which requires so much taste and knowledge of plants. Not a few of the minor masses of rock—and. there are many of them—are in better taste; and being less pon- derous, they will some day no doubt display the plant life with- out which a rockwork is a poor affair. A piece of very bad taste is shown in bringing a café right to the edge of the walk commanding one of the best views of the rocks and water. Restaurants and refreshment places are wanted, but they should not be thrust in face of the most impor- tant spots. People should never go to such places for the sake of the café, however interesting it might be as an accessory. There are unobtrusive and readily accessible positions where they may be situated. One feature deserves denunciation—the glaring way in which the walks are exposed. There can hardly be two 64 THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. opinions about the desirability of concealing the walks of a naturally disposed garden as much as may be convenient. A marked feature in many new French gardens is the way they are exposed. In the plans of the best. French landscape- Fic. 25, Plan of garden, showing how fond the French landscape-gardeners are of describing sections of eggs while laying out their walks. gardeners it is quite ridiculous to see the way the walks wind about in symmetrical twirlings, and, when they have entwined themselves through every sweep of turf in the place, seem to long for more spaces to writhe about in.. Most glaring instances of this are seen here, and parti- cularly on the top, the highest rock, where a small temple is seated. Near one of the entrances, here is a mixture of Indigo- fera Dosua and the holly-leaved Mahonia, the first pre- dominating and full of flower in summer, having the delicate beauty and profusion of flowers characteristic of THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. 65 New Holland, and greenhouse plants: it is worthy of being extensively used with us, and Indigofera floribunda should be everywhere used as a flower-garden wall plant. There is not much in the summer decoration of the place that is worthy of note. Some kinds of Cannas in flower look almost as showy as beds of Gladioli, but their real value will always be greatest as fine-leaved ornaments. The common artichoke was very effective in one spot as an isolated specimen of a “foliage plant,” nothing being finer than the nobly formed silvery leaves of this plant. Indeed, there is nothing to surpass it among sub- jects suited for single specimens on the green grass. A well-developed example would be sufficient in a private garden ; and if nobody else plants it, schools of art would find it to their advantage to have a specimen of it some- where near at hand. The Pare des Buttes Chaumont was made on the site of old and abandoned plaster quarries. It forms a curvilinear triangle, having an area of nearly forty-five acres included between the Rue de Crimée and two boulevards running between Belleville and Puebla. Before the park was made, the ground, which was divided by the Chemin de Fer de Ceinture and the Rue Fessard, was an arid wilderness of clay mounds and of excavations left by the quarrymeu, many of which were so deep as to form miniature pre- ' cipices. It was proposed to turn this waste into a public promenade by taking advantage of the natural irregularities of the ground, by forming paths, laying turf, and making a piece of water. To obtain this result, the natural hollows of the ground in the part nearest to Paris were deepened, paths leading to the top of the hills and mounds were laid down, the general surface was made more regular and covered with garden earth and flower-beds, and plantations were formed where necessary. ‘The improvements made were of an important character only as far as it was necessary to bring the boundary of the park into harmony with the - Boulevard de Ceinture, which runs through a trench nearly sixty feet deep. The other portion of the park, in which are situated the cutting through which the Chemin de Fer de F 66 THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. Ceinture passes, and the old plaster quarries, which now forms the most picturesque part, necessitated works of a much more considerable cost. The line of rocks, which in some places are much over 100 feet in perpendicular height, was luckily terminated by a craggy promontory looking down into the old excavations. This promontory was separated from the general mass in such a way as to form an isolated rock rising out of the lake which surrounded it on all sides. The lake is supplied by two rivulets which run through the two valleys of the park. One of them flows out of the lower wall of the upper boulevard, and falls down into a large cavern forming a cascade over 100 feet in height. The wall and grotto were formed to support the neighbouring land towards Belleville which was gradually fallmg imto the excavations left in the quarries. The marly soil which lies above the gypsum in a layer of forty-eight feet thick, the slightly sloping surface of which was gradually crumbling away under the action of the air, has been dug out so as to allow the slopes to sustain the mould forming the plantations. At the highest point of the promontory, however, where it was necessary to have a bold mass of rock hanging over the water, an embankment of masonry built in imitation of the rocks at the base has been found necessary to support the crumbling soil. A suspension bridge more than 200 feet long thrown over the lake and the path surrounding it joins this portion of the park to the other, and obviates the necessity of a long walk round. A large number of carriage roads twenty-two feet wide, the inclines rarely reaching 6 in 100, allow carriages to drive all over the park in spite of the great difference of level existing in various parts. The paths, whose inclination seldom exceeds 10 in J00, but which are sometimes cut into steps, afford foot-passengers the means of making short cuts between the carriage-drives in order to reach the heights of the park more expeditiously. Four bridges have been built over some of the deeper hollows, also a wire bridge has been thrown across the railway, a stone bridge, forty feet in span and sixty feet high, above a road and a small arm of the lake, the suspension bridge THE PARC DES BUTTES CHAUMONT. 67 already mentioned, and a skew bridge fifty-six feet in span, made of iron resting on stone piers. The park being surrounded by large roads is enclosed with an open iron railing, so that the view is never ob- structed. Besides this, wherever it has been possible, the garden has been so arranged as to be looked down upon from the boulevards above. The boulevard itself is supported by a wall forming a terrace over one part of the park, upon which it looks down almost perpendicularly over an escarp- ment 120 feet high. The water which supplies the cascades and the pipes by which the garden is watered is pumped by a special engine belonging to the Canal de lOurcgq into a reservoir situated at the side of the upper boulevard which surrounds the park. As for the end of the park nearest to Paris, it is, on the contrary, much higher than the boule- vards. It has therefore been laid out in such a way as not to interfere with the panorama of Paris seen above the tops of the houses which will be built in the intervening thoroughfares. The works, which were commenced early in 1864, are now finished. The cost of the bridges, roads, and gardens amounted to something near 120,000/. The archi- tectural work, including a first-class and two second-class restaurants, one double and eight single park-keeper’s lodges, a rotunda, and the surrounding railing, will amount to nearly 20,000/., making the entire cost close upon 140,000/. F2 68 CHAPTER V. THE JARDIN DES PLANTES AND THE GARDENS OF THE LUXEMBOURG. We have nothing in the British Isles like the Jardin des Plantes. It is half zoological, half botanical, and nearly surrounded by museums containing vast zoological, bo- tanical, and mineralogical collections. The portion entirely devoted to botany is laid out in the straight, regular style, while the part Fie. 26. in which are the numerous : buildings for the wild ani- mals, has wind- ing walks, and some trifling diversity here and there. The m place is really fan important fm school of sci- "ence, and as Conservatories and Museums in the Jardin des Plantes. Such itis gr eat and useful. In addition to able lecturers on botany, culture, and allied matters, there are, I believe, a dozen on various other scien- tific subjects, some of these gentlemen being among the ablest and most famous naturalists in Europe. Here Buffon, Cuvier, Jussieu, and other great men have worked; and here at the present day, even in minor departments, are many men of well known ability. Although the Jardin des Plantes is quite inferior in point THE JARDIN DES PLANTES. 69 of beauty to any of our large British botanic gardens, it con- tains some features which might be introduced to them with the greatest advantage. Its chief merits are that its plants are better named than in any British garden; it possesses several arrangements which enable the student to see con- veniently, and most correctly, all obtainable useful plants infinitely better than in any British botanic garden ; and it displays very fully the vegeta- tion of temperate and northern climes, and consequently, that in which we are the most interested, and which is the most important for us. Its chief faults are that it has a Fia, 27. Aquatic birds in the Jardin des Plantes. bad position in an out-of-the-way part of the town; the greater part of its surface is covered with plants scien- Fia. 28. Animals in the Jardin des Plantes. planted in France. it was given by the English botanist Collinson. tifically disposed ; the houses are poor and badly arranged compared to those in our own good botanic gardens; and there is no green turf to be seen in its open and impor- tant parts. It has, in addi- tion, a very bad atmosphere for pines and evergreens, and there is a ridiculous kind of maze on the top of an other- wise notobjectionable mound. Half way up this elevation stands a tolerably good Cedar of Lebanon, the first ever It was planted by Jussieu, to whom Beyond this there is not much tree-beauty in the Jardin des 70 THE JARDIN DES PLANTES. Plantes. There are fine collections of palms and other subjects of much importance for a botanic garden, and the house collections are on the whole good, but the plants in a great many cases are very diminutive and poorly deve- loped, therefore we will pass them by. There is one admirable feature which must not be forgotten, and that is the fine collection of pear trees. M. Cappe has had charge of this section for about thirty-five years, and is now a very old man, but still he attends to his trees, and has them in fine condi- ne tion, though contending with Cedar planted by Jussieu in the rnych difficulty, because the space upon which the trees stand is really not enough for one-half the number, and thus he is obliged to keep lines of little trees between and under big ones, and so on. ‘There are few things in the horticultural way about Paris better worth notice than this collection of pears. Remarking that they have a graceful way of comme- morating great naturalists by naming after them the streets in the immediate neighbourhood of the garden, I will pass on to the more important feature of the garden ; that is, its very extensive and well named collection of hardy plants. The only species of Pelargonium that ventures into Europe (P. Endlicherianum) is grown here, and it is quite hardy. The first of the principal arrangements of hardy herbaceous plants, &c., is a curious and distinct one. It is simply two large and wide spaces planted with masses of ornamental species; and looks pretty well, though far from being arranged in a way to develope fully the beauty of its contents. Edgings composed of the several Fie. 29. 71 DES PLANTES. THE JARDIN varieties of Iris pumila look well in early spring, and many plants are used for edging which we are not accus- tomed to see so employed in En good gland. Thus the double variety of Lychnis Viscaria has been very pretty as “BUIOOL-YBO[D 'O “AVIA “SOMO “VY “WoITaqned 0} JUsuINTOTY ‘OF ‘SasnNoYy-sseTH “gg ‘s[BUTTUY ‘GE ‘LE ‘9g ‘satdey ‘eg ‘squt[_ [eodory pue ‘Teapyo ‘snoauqiay ‘o[qIpa ‘oenby “Fe ‘es ‘Ze ‘Te “OS “SPATE BZ ‘LB asnoy 8.1atANN "9% ‘syULLAqeT '¢% ‘FZ “OW ‘SOLIOSINN “EZ ‘ZS ‘TZ “SAVO “0G ‘AULIOG JO [OOYIS "LT ‘Avp9D “NT ‘alae ‘¢t ‘“AS80[00z pue ‘ASo[esoulyy ‘Auv{Og ‘AuIOIVUW Jo suMaSN_ “PI ‘ET ‘ZL ‘LL = ‘soldesana pue suo0ryey ued paxtye “62 ‘St ‘OT ‘6 ‘8 ‘2 “AUBAQIT “9 “UreJUNOT “61 ‘P “oid Josysvog ‘g “o1yeaqygqdMy “Zz ‘apeuoMosg “T *soyUelg Sep UIprer oy} Jo UeTG—"Og “PI and so has the neat, bright, and pure white an edging, half so popular as it Silene alpestris—an alpine plant not me seedsmen, while ought to be, though I observe that so tion of the weeds not offering it, sell a pretty fair propor 72 THE JARDIN DES PLANTES. that belong to the genus. Then there is a large space de- voted to plants used for the decoration of the parterre, all or chiefly tender plants or annuals. This is not so suc- cessful or useful as some of the other arrangements, though it displays numbers of popular ornamental subjects. Let us pass on to a large division devoted to the culture of plants used as food, and in commerce. It is at once successful, useful, and complete. The chief varieties of all garden crops, from Radishes to Kidney Beans, are to be seen ; the various species of Rhubarb, all important varie- ties of Lettuce—in a word, everything that the learner could desire to see in this way. It is not merely the plan of the thing that is sensible and good, but its carrying out. The annuals are regularly raised and put out; the ground is kept perfectly clean, and it is, in fact, the best place I have ever seen in which to become acquainted with useful plants. Such arrangements well carried out, and cut off by judicious planting from the general verdure and chief area of any of our great public gardens, would be of the greatest service. The ground is thrown into beds about six feet wide, and each kind is allotted six feet run of the bed. The sweet potato is grown here, as indeed are all interesting plants that may be grown in the open air. Below this arrangement, and near the river end of the garden, is another very interesting division. It is chiefly devoted to medicinal and useful plants of all kinds, arranged in a distinct way. First we have the Sorghums, Millets, Wheats, and Cereals generally—all plants cultivated for their grains or seeds. Then come plants cultivated for their stems, from Polymnia edulis to Ullucus tuberosus. Next we have the chief species and varieties of Onion, such plants as Urtica utilis, the Dalmatian Pyrethrum rigidum, and in a word almost everything likely to interest in this way, from Lactuca perennis to the esculent Hibiscus. Here again the plants are well named and kept clear and distinct, each having full room to develope, the general space devoted to the subject being sufficiently large; and the practice of giving each plant a certain portion of the whole breadth of each bed to itself is better than the more THE JARDIN DES PLANTES. 73 crowded arrangements adopted in our British botanic gar- dens. All these divisions we have just passed through cover an oblong expanse of ground, the effect of which is of course anything but beautiful from an ornamental point of view; but yet, in consequence of the ground being well kept, each subject grown well and vigorously, and all the squares bordered with roses and summer flowering plants, the effect is better than might be expected. ‘This great oblong space is bordered on each side by double rows of lime trees planted by Buffon. Between these are wide walks, agreeably shady on hot days. The second great oblong space to the north is entirely devoted to the school of botany, and this is simply a large portion of ground planted on the natural system, remark- able for the correctness of its nomenclature and the rich- ness of its collection. Here again everything is well taken care of and kept distinct; the aquatics are furnished with cemented troughs, in which they do quite luxuriantly, one of the singular and handsome Sacred Beans (Nelum- bium speciosum), and Limnocharis Humboldtii being well grown in the open air. The whole is most satisfactory, with one exception—that they place out the greenhouse and stove plants in summer to complete the natural orders. These poor plants are stored pell-mell in winter in a great orangery, from which they are taken out in early summer literally more dead than alive. They make a few leaves during the summer, and are again put into their den to sicken or die. The medicinal and other plants for special uses are indicated by variously coloured labels. Among many handsome hardy plants which I met with here, and which are deserving of being more largely grown with us, are Hibiscus militaris, Crambe juncea, Verbascum vernale, Heracleum latisectum, Yucca lutescens, flexilis, Treculeana, angustifolia and stricta (all hardy), Spireea decumbens, Iris nudicaulis, Antirrhinum rupestre, Mecrendera Bulbocodium, Colchicum montanum, Magydaris panacina, Sorghum hala- pense, Panicum bulbosum, altissimum, and virgatum, Epi- lobium sericeum, Gundelia Tournefortii, Dahlia arborea, imperialis, and Decaisneana (out only during the summer of 74 THE JARDIN DES PLANTES. course), Datura fastuosa alba-duplex, Pyrethrum Tchihat. chewii, of the south of Europe—a capital plant for covering the dryest of banks with dark green; it is very low in habit, produces white flowers in spring, and for banks and other positions so dry and arid that grass or anything else fails to grow upon them, it will probably prove highly useful. Anemone alba, Ficaria calthcefolia, Echinophora tenui- folia, a graceful umbelliferous plant with hoary leaves ; Gly- ceria Michauxii, a pretty grass ; and a collection of the genus Asparagus, among which one, A. Broussonetii, is remarkable for its great vigour and rapidity of growth—it quickly runs up with dense vigour to a height of ten feet in spring, its foliage is glossy and dense, and it might be used with success as a covering for bowers or to make pyramids in a highly diversified garden of hardy plants, and of course it would be valuable in such a place as the subtropical garden at Battersea Park. Asparagus tenuifolius is as graceful and elegant as the one before-named is vigorous and rampant in its climbing power. Tris Monnieri, of Western Asia, is a really fine, bright yellow kind. Among the larger Composite are some likely to prove useful for the subtropical garden ; notably Rha- ponticum scariosum, and cynarioides. Serratula pinnatifida is elegant in leaf; and particularly fine is a silvery-leaved Tanacetum (T. elegans), with finely divided and elegant frond-like leaves. Dipsacus laciniatus is fine in its line when well grown, and it will prove really well worth raising annually, somewhat like the Castor-oil plants, for the garden where distinction is desired. Sideritis syriaca is hardy here, and fairly tried might make a useful edging plant in the way of Gnaphalium lanatum, than which it is a shade more silvery. Phlomis herba-venti is a pretty and distinct herbaceous plant, medium-sized, and Eremo- stachys iberica is a yellow species, well worthy of associa- tion with laciniata. Acantholimon venustum is prettier and more elegant than the admired A. glumaceum, the dwarf cushion of leaves being of a glaucous tone, and the large rose-coloured flowers being well thrown out on bold graceful stems; it is one of the prettiest dwarf plants I THE JARDIN DES PLANTES, 75 have ever seen, and for a well made and tasteful rockwork it will prove one of the best summer ornaments. Geranium platypetalum is very good here, and one of the best of the family. Erodium carvifolium is so elegantly cut that I should not hesitate to place it beside Thalictrum minus, from which it is, of course, quite distinct in character. There is a capital collection of the very neat Semper- vivum family, planted in the open air, where they do re- markably well. Seseli gummiferum is a pretty umbelliferous plant, of a peculiarly distinct and pleasing glaucous hue. Thapsia villosa is also fine, and so is Aralia edulis. Vicia tenuifolia formosa is a very handsome climber ; and Orobus rosea is one of the most elegant and pretty of its family, having arching and drooping shoots, and being well suited for a large rockwork. There are many others in various departments, but as the subject is not of interest to a very wide class, it must not be enlarged upon further. For the information of curators of botanic gardens, and those taking a botanical interest in curious plants, J may state that Cuscuta major is luxuriantly grown here upon the nettle, C. Epithymum upon Calliopsis tinctoria, C. Engel- manii upon a Solidago, and Orobanche grows upon Hemp. I have grown O. minor upon perennial Clovers, and O. He- dere may be readily grown upon the Ivy at the bottom of a wall (I once saw it growing freely on the top of a wall near Lucan, in Ireland) ; so that there ought not to be the diffi- culty which our botanic gardeners find in growing these curious plants. Orobanche ramosa is also grown here upon Calliopsis tinctoria. The safest way with the Orcbanches is to scrape away the soil till you come near the root of the plant on which you intend it to be parasitical, and then sow the seed. A very old and fine pair of dwarf fan palms, given to Louis XIV. by Charles III., Margrave de Bade, are usually placed in summer one at each side of the entrance of the am- phitheatre. They have straight clean stems, and are more than twenty feet high. They escape the notice of many visitors, but are well worth seeing by all plant-lovers, not only from their age, but their exceptional height. Should any 76 THE LUXEMBOURG GARDEN. visitor to the Jardin des Plantes wonder at the poor external aspect of its houses and some other features as compared with those at Kew, he would Hiss Ste do well to bear in mind that money has a good deal to do with such things ; and that the grant for museums, lecturers (the lectures are free), the ex- pensive collection of animals, and everything else in the Jardin des Plantes, is miserably small. On the other hand, the gardens and plants of La Ville de Paris are plentifully pro- vided with money; the muni- cipality of Paris often spending The Amphitheatre in the Jardin des prodigious sums for the pur- Plantes. On each side of the en- chase of plants, and even for the trance there is a very tall and old 4 P specimen of the “dwarf fan palm.” Plant decoration of a single ball. One ball at the Hotel de Ville during the festivities of 1867 cost considerably over 30,000/., while the poor Jardin des Plantes gets from the State not more than one-third of that sum to exist upon for a whole year. The Luxembourg Garden. The beautiful old garden attached to the Palais du Luxem- bourg—the favourite resort for many years of the Parisians of the left bank of the Seime—has lately been almost entirely remodelled, much to the indignation of the Parisian public and journalists ; but it is still a pretty garden. Geometrical gardens are seldom capable of affording any prolonged interest or refreshing beauty ; very rarely so much so as that of the Luxembourg. Before the recent alterations there was a good botanic garden—an irregular sort of English garden, which the French call the “never to be forgotten nursery”—and much miscellaneous interest now passed away. At present matters are much more concentrated, and we shall find less to speak of than of old, but yet enough to make the place PLATE XVIII. THE GARDENS AND PALACE OF THE LUXEMBOURG, THE LUXEMBOURG GARDEN. 77 the Bois de Boulogne, and thus it lost some of its interest. The glass-house department, however, retains most of its attractions, and to the horticultural visitor will present a good deal of interest. It contains the best collection of Orchids in any public garden about Paris, fine Camellia- houses in which the specimens attain great perfection, and miscellaneous collections. The object and limits of this book will not permit us to enter into particulars of this department, and therefore we will go in the open air and look at the broader features of the scene. Usually in geometrical gardens the portion nearest the building is a terrace commanding the surroundings—here, on the contrary, the part nearest the palace and stretching away from its face is a basin flanked by balustraded terraces. Above these terraces are seen numerous marble statues and horse-chestnut groves. The lower portion, however, is from a gardening point of view the most interesting, and we will glance at the mode of decoration pursued therein. The grass banks that rise from the lower garden to the balustrade—such slopes as may be seen in most places of the kind—are not left naked, but planted with two rows of dwarf rose bushes, aud the effect of these is very pretty. There seems no particular reason why like spots should be left naked with us. Continuous borders, not beds, run round the squares of grass, &c., and from the dawn of spring to the end of autumn these are never without occupants—never ragged, never flowerless. The system adopted is one of bedding and herbaceous plants mixed, but all changed every year. They steal out a spring flower this week, and put in a fine herbaceous or bedding plant, or strong growing florists’ flower in its stead, and with the very best success. Stocks of good bedding and herbaceous plants are always kept on hand to carry this out, and the placing of the herbaceous plants into fresh ground every year causes them to flower as freely as the bedders. 78 THE LUXEMBOURG GARDEN. But these borders also contain permanent things—Lilac bushes, Roses, &c., which give a line of verdure throughout the centre of the border, and prevent it from being quite overdone with flowers. Among those woody plants there were others very beautiful and very sweet for many weeks Fi. 32. ii te) EI GIRARD | BP ALAIS ° si SENAT ef a a a B aL NdMag \ | wee Plan of the Luxembourg Garden as recently altered. through the better part of the season, and these were low standard bushes of the common Honeysuckle! English flower-gardeners would perhaps scarcely ever think of that for such a position ; but alternating between a Rose and a Lilac, or other bush, and throwing down a head of free- THE LUXEMBOURG GARDEN. 79 growing and flowering shoots, very few subjects look more pleasing in the flower garden. The mixture of f Phloxes, now. often the case. They also have the subtropical system, and rather more tastefully than elsewhere. Thus in one part may be seen a graceful mixture of a variety of fine-leaved plants with an edging of Fuchsias, instead of the ponderous mass of 500 plants of one variety of Canna, which you sometimes meet with in other places about Paris. M. Riviére is fond of having mixed beds of ferns in the open air, isolated specimens of tree ferns, Woodwardias elevated on moss-covered stands, &c. and their effect is usually very good. The planting of the vases too is good. Instead of using only flat-headed subjects, as many do with us, they place in the centre of each a medium-sized plant of the New Zealand flax, with its long and boldly graceful leaves, ‘and~then-: set ‘gerantums, &e., around, finishing off with ‘the ‘ivy-leayed — geranium, the Tropzolum, &c., for drooping over the margin. The effect of the fountain of Jacques Debrosse and its surroundings is the most satisfactory of the sort I have ever seen. The frontispiece, engraved from a photograph, almost does away with the necessity for a written description of it. Stretching from the foot of the fountain there is a long water-basin, a walk on each side of that bordered with Plane trees, which meeting overhead make a long leafy arch, so that the effect of the fountain group at the end, representing Polyphemus discovering Acis and Galatea, is very fine. It is of course heightened by the leafy canopy of Planes, but very much more so by the way in which the Ivy and Virginian creeper are made to form graceful wreaths from tree to tree. Between the trees the Irish ivy is planted, and then trained up in rich graceful wreaths, so as to join the stems at about eight feet from the ground. At about a foot or so above the ivy another and almost straight wreath of Virginian creeper is placed, and the effect of these two simple wreaths from tree to tree is 80 THE LUXEMBOURG GARDEN. quite refreshing at all times. The wreaths seem to fall from the pillar-like stems of the Planes rather than to grow from the space beneath them, the bottom of the lower wreath resting on the earth. An adoption of this or a similar plan would add verdure and grace to many a formal grove, bare and naked-looking about the base. In these gardens the Oleander is grown into large bushes like the orange-trees, and put out with them during the summer months. They become perfect beds of flowers. I have seen plants or rather trees of those oleanders in flower here, quite ten feet across, and with the flowers as thick upon them as on a bed of Pelargoniums. They are simply treated like the orange-trees, the culture of which is fully described elsewhere in this book. Doubtless the plan would succeed in England, and it is worth a trial. Even indoors the Oleander is not often flowered well with us, though quite worth the trouble of cultivation. Probably the complete rest during winter that the plants get in an orangery, and the making of all their growth out of doors in the full light and free air, are more conducive to their well-being than the careful culture they receive in our glass-houses. On the Continent they are abundantly grown. M. Riviére fils has obligingly written a short article on their cultivation for me, which will be met with further on. On the 5th of July, 1867, the men were busily em- ployed in these gardens moving large chestnut and plane trees in full leaf. They take them up with immense balls of earth, by powerful machinery, and very successfully, but this system should not be pursued more than is barely necessary in private gardens or public either. It may be very desirable for Paris to move common trees of goodly size to complete and rearrange straight avenues here and there, but the plan is not worth the expense in any other case. Numerous amateurs and others go to the Luxembourg to hear M. Riviére, the superintendent, deliver his free lectures, which are thoroughly practical, and illustrated by the aid of living specimens and all the necessary material. The lecturer goes through the theory and practice of the subject PLATE XIX. WOODWARDIAS IN THE CONSERVATORIES OF THE LUXEMBOURG GARDEN. THE LUXEMBOURG GARDEN. 81 before an attentive class, consisting of several hundred persons, and elucidates the subject in a way which cannot fail to highly benefit the numerous amateurs who attend. It is interesting to see such a number of people here at nine o’clock in the morning, and the deep interest taken in the matter, speaks much for the excellence of the professor. As botanical professors lead their pupils on occasional ex- cursions over meadow and hill, so M. Riviére takes his classes to famous horticultural establishments from time to time,— to Montreuil, famous for its peaches; Thomery, for its vines, and so on. There are many lectures delivered in England on like subjects, but none so directly useful to the horticulturist as these. M. Riviére, being an admirer of Woodwardias, pays special attention to their cultivation, and succeeds in grow- ing them to great size in small baskets, balls of moss, &c. The accompanying plate will show how effective they are when thus treated. Some of the specimens are placed in the open garden on rustic stands or in vases during the warmer months, and thus they grace the flower garden in summer as well as the conservatory in winter. 82 CHAPTER VI. THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. Mosr of us are familiar enough with the aspects of the London squares, with their melancholy loneliness, and fre- quent filthiness—their highest efforts being in the planting of Privet, &c., so cleverly that any view of the interior is impossible. If by way of contrast we glance at the state of one of the most central and best known squares in Paris before entering on the general question, we may be able to get an idea of the different system pursued in each city, and I trust also of the great advantages and superiority of the Parisian one. The square and Tour St. Jacques illustrate judicious city improvements better than anything else that I am acquainted with. This tower—originally part of an old church, and hidden from view by tall, narrow, dirty streets which crowded around it, is now one of the most beautiful and interesting objects in Paris—striking to every one who passes by it, and with the garden a source of much pleasure and benefit to the people who live im this central neighbourhood. It was made so by clearing away narrow old streets and buildings and making a garden. The first thing that strikes the visitor in this square is its freshness, perfect keeping, and the numbers of people who are seated in it, reading, working, or playing. <“ The 3 same reason,” it is said in ‘ Guesses at Truth,’ “ which calls for the restoration of our village greens, calls no less impera- tively in London for the throwing open = : of the gardens in all the squares. What Portion of the Plan of bright refreshing spots would these be margin of a Parisian . 4 : sauiee: in the midst of our huge brick and stone Fig. 33. THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. 83 labyrinths, if we saw them crowded on summer evenings with the tradespeople and mechanics from the neighbouring streets, and if the poor children who now grow up amid the filth and impurities of the alleys and courts, were allowed to run about these playgrounds, so much healthier both for the body and the mind! We have them all ready, a word may open them. At present the gardens in our squares are painful mementoes of aristocratic exclusiveness. They who need them the least monopolize them. All the fences and walls by which this exclusiveness bars itself out from the sympathies of common humanity must be cast down.” The aspect of this square with its wide walks lined with chairs, on which hundreds of people sit and enjoy the scene at all hours, but particularly in the evenings, would have well realized this writer’s ideal of what a square should be. Nor have the richest potentates more beautiful or diverse objects in their gardens than are here spread out for all who will enjoy them. Itis almost as attractive to the passer-by in the street as to those inside, for instead of a clump of shrubs of commonplace character, cutting it off from the view of the passer-by, there is a belt of grass of varying width, kept perfectly fresh and green, and on it here and there large beds and masses, usually distinct from each other. Now it _is a fine bed of the dwarf fan-palm, edged with Carludovica, as much exposed to the street as to the square; now a group of shade-giving hardy trees, furnished beneath with neat evergreens, and finished off with a line or two of flowers, next, a mixed bed of variegated Dahlias and other tall autumn flowers, and so on. On the carpets of fresh grass between these various clumps there are here and there isolated trees—chestnuts, and the like, to give the necessary shade and dignity, and to flower in their season. In nearly every case the stems of these are neatly clothed with climbers, generally ivy, occasionally Aristolochia and Clematis. Very pretty effects may be worked out by using the best climbers. But the grassy carpet is also ornamented by smaller, though no less noble, things than the large trees just mentioned. It is sparsely dotted with plants having fine leaves, or distinct character. On one sweep we G2 84 THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. have a tree Pony, the tall Japanese Polygonum, and a large-leaved Solanum. Passing two clumps of shrubs, and between them an entrance, we meet with another strip of green grass, adorned with four distinct plants—the Pampas grass, the Irish Yew, Melianthus major, Hibiscus roseus, and soon. It should be distinctly understood that these plants stand singly and isolated on the grass, so that their character may be seen. In the mixed clumps and planta- tions near there are plenty of opportunities of seeing the effects of things when grouped or massed. Between the walk and the beautiful old tower there is a little lawn, and in one nook of that deep green carpet, sheltered on three sides, but coming boldly into the view from the greater part of the square, is a specimen of the noblest of fine-leaved plants, the great Abyssinian Musa. It is about twelve feet high: the base appears quite two feet in diameter, the young leaves made during the season are perfectly intact, eight feet long each, a great red taper- ing midrib, like a huge billiard cue, running from base to point of each, and from this supply-pipe the gracefully waved venation curls away towards the margin. Backed by the foliage of the trees of our own latitudes, it forms a striking and noble object indeed. Then, in the immediate foreground, there is a mass of a scarcely less striking plant, the edible Caladium, which springs from a groundwork of fragrant mignonette, edged with the woolly Gnaphalium ; and so in like manner are sparsely scattered over the green (they wisely keep the central parts clear to secure a little breadth and repose), striking specimens or groups of speci- mens, some of which it would pay the city to grow, if it were only to give art students living specimens of Nature’s finest leaf forms. I know some botanic gardens ten times the size of this little square, which fail to furnish anything like so good an illustration of the diversity and beauty of the vegetable kingdom, and others where huge, tasteless and formal arrangements prevent an equally agreeable impres- sion from being obtained. Amidst the whole stands the famous old tower, with its leaves and figures in stone, a thing of beauty and interest PLATE XXI. THE SQUARE AND TOUR ST. JACQUES, THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. 85 of itself, but greatly enhanced by being set so sweetly in a green and brilliant garden. At every step the tower pre- sents a fresh face, and the square a new charm. People who sneer at what they call Haussmannization would do well to ponder on such facts as this: a little reflection might lead them to discover numerous objects more worthy of satire. About this Tour St. Jacques were tried for the first time the Wigandias, now the admiration of so many in both French and English gardens, the Cannas, the Musas, Palms, Ficuses, and others of the better kinds of what may be termed the flora of Parisian gardens. What a change from the filth and consequent unwholesomeness of its ancient state! How different from the small squares around our churches and monuments with their naked slimy earth and doleful aspect! Surely they might as well bloom with verdure and life as be so suggestive of all that is opposite ! A visit to the Tour St. Jacques and its surroundings, especially if accompanied by some idea of what the spot was before the improvement was carried out, could not fail to leave a deep impression of the great advantages to be derived from the execution of similar improvements in our cities. The old tower belonged to the ancient church of St. Jacques, which was built in 1508. It is 175 feet high, and affords a fine view of the greater part of the capital. It was this tower that was used by Pascal in his experiments on the variation of the barometer at different heights. The works belonging to the garden were executed in 1856, the total cost being nearly 60001. for the alterations and planting. Although so far in advance of our own squares In every way, it is interesting to note that the idea was first taken from London; but while we still persist in keeping the squares for a few privileged persons, and usually without the faintest trace of any but the very poorest plant orna- ment, they make them as open as our parks, and decorate them with a variety and richness of vegetation with which it is only fair to say the choicest spots in our own great gardens, public or private, cannot be compared. The whole subject is treated of in such a judicious way by M. R. Mitchell in the “ Constitutionnel” that his remarks may he 86 THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. appropriately quoted here, dealing as they do fairly with both sides of the question. “ Tt has been often remarked, and with great reason, that the English have carried their material civilization further than we have. Comparisons have frequently been made between Paris and London that were not at all to our ad- vantage, and we are obliged to allow that the sort of accu- sation brought against us was not wanting in justice. It is not many years since the boundaries of Paris inclosed an old city that was a disgrace to our civilization ; streets, or rather fissures, without ventilation, and unhealthy districts where an entire population of poor people were languishing and dying. Now, however—thanks to the useful and im- portant works that have been lately carried out—the sun shines everywhere ; streets have been enlarged, and every one has sufficient air to breathe. Paris contains but few unhealthy alleys, whilst in London the existence of such localities as Bermondsey, Soho, St. Giles’s, Spitalfields, Whitechapel, &c., &c., is still to be deplored. “ We are far from forgetting the immense development of material civilization in England. We simply mean to say that our neighbours frequently invent for the sake of privi- lege, and that when their ideas are good we take advantage of them and popularize them. We will take a single ex- ample: every one knows how justly the English pride them- selves on their gardens called squares, which are the admira- tion of every foreigner. Our unfortunate public places that the pedestrian cannot cross in summer without being grilled by the sun or blinded by the dust only serve as examples of our inferiority in this respect. The square, that is to say, a little park surrounded by a railing, is the representa- tion at once of a question of health—a question of morality, and perhaps even of national self-respect. We certainly could boast of the Place Royale, which, however, much more closely resembled an unsuccessful attempt than the first step in ahappy way. At present, however, Paris need envy London for nothing. The Emperor, who understands that for an idea to be adopted in France it is not indispensable that it should be French, was struck with the happy results that PLATE XXII. THE SQUARE AND FOUNTAIN DES INNOCENTS. THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. 87 would accrue from the naturalization of the square amongst us. He understood the necessity of a place of refuge, rest, and freshness for those who have never carried their desires even so far as the Passy omnibus, or even the railway to the Bois de Boulogne. He has consequently bestowed on our capital the squares of St. Jacques la Bouchérie, St. Clothilde, the Temple, Louvois, des Arts et Métiers, and the Pare Mon- ceaux. These masses of vegetation widely distributed amongst the most populous neighbourhoods cleanse the air by absorbing the miasmatic exhalations, thus enabling every one to breathe freely. “The time has passed when a plate of copper exposed to the air in one of the streets now demolished, would become covered with oxide in a single night. This is a question of public health that it is most important to bring forward. Before the establishment of the Paris squares the existence of a great number of children was passed in confined and unwholesome districts. The fresh air for them was only the threshold of that vitiated atmosphere that we have just been speaking of. They were obliged to take a long walk before they could find a patch of verdure or a bit of country. The children went out but little ; it was useless to dress them or make them clean, because they never went out of their own neighbourhood, and in this way their early years passed away. How many times have we not noticed with painful emotion these little, ragged, pale creatures, who never apparently thought of the filth im which they were obliged to live ! “ Now, thank God, this dark picture has become bright. Within a couple of steps of the poor man’s house there are trees, flowers, and gravel-walks where his children can run about, and clean and comfortable seats where their parents may sit together and talk. Family ties are strengthened, and the workman soon understands that there are calmer and more moral pleasures than those he has been used to seek in the wine-shop. Again, the different degrees of the members of the working classes meet together on common ground, and parental feeling is developed by emulation. A child must not be allowed to be ragged for fear of its being 88 THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. remarked, and we will answer for it that a woman in whose breast maternal instinct has not been entirely smothered will never take her child into a public place without first paying attention to the cleanliness which is the ornament of the poor. Some time ago, while walking through the Square du Temple, where hundreds of children were running and jumping and filling their lungs with the country air that has thus been brought into Paris, we could not help saying to ourselves that strengthened and developed by continual exercise these youngsters would one day form a true race of men, which would give the State excellent soldiers, good labourers for our farms, and strong artisans for our factories. “It has already been stated that the English originate privileges and that we popularize and perfect their ideas. We shall prove what we advance by comparison. The Parisian Ediles have made squares wherever a too crowded population threatened to contaminate the atmosphere, and in all the parts of the city, farthest from the Tuileries, the Luxembourg, or the Bois de Boulogne, so that those living in the neighbourhood might be able to get to them easily. In London, on the contrary, with but few excep- tions, there are no squares worthy of the name, except in rich and open neighbourhoods. The largest and most beautiful gardens are found at the West-end in Belgravia, or at Brompton, that is to say, at the very gates of Hyde Park. With us trees are planted for sanitary reasons, and the squares have been established, more especially in those neighbourhoods where the atmosphere most required to be constantly purified, and to this end trees of a particular sort were chosen for their power of absorption. Fountains too were built, and small pieces of water, which spread that pleasant freshness through the air that is so grateful to the workman who has passed the whole day in the heavy atmosphere of the workshop. “In London they appear to have been above everything anxious about the health of the trees; a healthy and warm climate was chosen for them in open neighbourhoods close to the parks, so that they should not suffer too much from “IVAOU SIVIVd AHL JO SNAGCUVD HHI ‘AXX GLV1d THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. 89 home sickness. We do not mean to say that the city, for instance, or the other parts of the town, are completely un- provided with squares, but simply that they are so small and mean that they give one the idea of having been blown into their position by the wind. But the head- quarters of misery that we spoke of a short time ago— those masses of crumbling houses—those networks of dark alleys,—in a word, all that most needs pure air and daylight has been forgotten, or rather neglected while the richer parts have been improved. In Paris the squares are open to every one; in England they are locked up, surrounded by a railing surmounted with spikes, and planted with bushes so as to impede the view of all that is going on inside. By the payment of a small sum, generally a pound a year, each inhabitant of the houses forming the four sides of the square has the right to a key of the gate. So that for a poor man to walk with his family in any of these gardens, he must first live in a square and pay a high rent for the privilege, and then contribute a pound a year to- wards the expense of maintaining it. Practically these squares are useless, and nearly always deserted. In London the squares are private property with which the State cannot meddle. With us, on the contrary, it is the Government that takes the initiative in these municipal improvements. It is to the city of Paris that we owe their construction; they have cost a great deal, and the Imperial idea has only as yet been partially carried out. We have already transformed the Bois de Boulogne, the Bois de Vincennes, and we shall soon have many more public promenades in different parts of the capi- tal. Before long Paris will be one vast garden. “Tt is only necessary to walk in the neighbourhood of any of the squares of Paris towards the middle of the day to see with what pleasing readiness they are patronized by the working classes. To give only an example, the Square des Arts et Métiers is so crowded with people after four o’clock that it is impossible to pass through it. It was at one time said that the establishment of a public garden was an idea that was perfectly practical in London, but not in Paris, 90 THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. where the inhabitants were so turbulent and revolutionary that they would soon pull down the trees, pluck the flowers, and pull up the plants by the roots. “Experience, however, has shown how utterly this opinion was devoid of founda- tion. At the inauguration of the Parc de Monceaux all the gates were thrown open to the crowd. No surveillance was exercised over the 50,000 persons who crowded the walks. At the end of the day the total amount of damage done only amounted to some forty-five francs for a few turf borders that had been trampled upon. This fact is per- fectly conclusive. Besides, the squares have now been opened for a long time, and the numberless frequenters of them have conducted themselves with admirable order and decency. The people evidently understand that they are at home; that it is for their especial behoof that the gardens have been constructed; they know that in pulling up a flower it is their own property they are destroying ; and, moreover, they evince a respectful gratitude for the hands that have given them these pleasant places of resort. The establishment of public squares in Paris is an eminently social idea. We repeat it, it tends to regenerate the human race by the development of the physical forces ; by exercise in the open air it improves the morals of the people, by allowing the working man to change the dirty wine-shop by a pleasant walk and an agreeable resting-place; and, lastly, it proves our readiness to adopt in our own country whatever appears good and useful to our neighbours.” It is to be hoped that we in our turn shall show an equal readiness to profit by the excellent example shown us in city squares. There are many private squares in London which merely occupy space that otherwise would be devoted to the gardens of the houses around; but, on the other hand, there are not a few which seem to invite a trial of the system found to work so well in Paris. I have very little doubt that if we could set one of these sweet little Parisian squares down in the centre of London, it would induce many who would now oppose with all their might any attempt to open their square to the public to ask for the change. And eventually it would come to this, that even THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. 91 persons having a claim over the smallest squares in London—those that have been substituted for the little private gardens—would see that it was to their interest and for the benefit of everybody living near the square that it should be cheerfully decorated, well kept, open to the public at all reasonable hours, and a place where a working man, too tired to walk to a distant park, could sit down to rest without the necessity of resorting to the public- house or any like place. The Square St. Jacques, already alluded to, is so placed that every visitor to Paris must see it. The next to be noticed is rather out of the usual route of the English visitor. The Square des Batignolles is one of the largest and best worth seeing in Paris. Entering it from its lower side, the general scheme is seen to be that of a little vale, down which meanders a streamlet, ending in a small round piece of water. The margins of this streamlet are variously embellished with suitable plants: the rich grassy sides slope up till they end in dense plantations of the choicest shrubs, so well planted and watered that they look as fresh as if growing twenty miles from a large city. Let us walk round—the margin of the shallow grassy vale to our right, the boundary shrubberies and the railing to our left. The walk expands from a breadth of ten or a dozen feet to forty, in the first corner of the square, so + that the children find little ~ playgrounds without going on the vividly green grass. The first attraction to the eye on the right is a group of the variegated maize 2a > springing out of a mass of Poon fps otc wal bree pe dwarf Phlox Drummondi. ground, with seats and shade-giving trees. Beyond it is a group of Plane trees, Honeysuckles being trained up their stems by the aid of rings of galvanized wire. 92 THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. Next on the right again comes a magnificent group of Caladium esculentum, springing out of Lobelia Paxtoni ; behind it a dense mass of the Pampas Grass, in front of groups of Poplars and Cedars. On the left a profuse variety of the very best shrubs, flowering and otherwise ; all these groups of shrubs being edged with some kind of summer flower. Indeed it is these margins that afford the floral display ; and the absence of all attempt to make a species of extensive coloured cotton handkerchief of the place makes it almost as fresh and free from vulgarity and gaudiness as a ferny dell in a forest. The keeping is perfect, and there is no fence between the public and the flowers but the very neat edging of rustic iron, which rises about five inches above the gravel, and is placed about two inches outside the grass. The only bed without any green relieving it in the whole place was one of Centaurea ragusina, planted thinly and springing out of a ground- work of variously coloured and brilliant Portulacas. Again we come to another angle of the ground, and the walk once more widens to forty feet, with lots of seats in its back portion. Behind all, to the left, is the well diversified dense shrubbery ; to the right Cedars and Thujopsis on the grass, of the freshness, softness, and verdure of which latter I can give no adequate idea. Here and there, isolated on the turf, was a single plant of the red-stained variety of the common Castor-oil plant, of which the fruit, leaves, and stems were all effective, the former strik- ingly so. The Bananas planted out here are in a poor state, except Musa Ensete, which is, as usual, superb. At another corner there is again a widening of the walk to forty feet. A few Chestnuts are planted on these wide spots for shade; on the right there is a bank of choice shrubs and low trees, margined with a belt of scarlet Pelargoniums—the only ones on the spot; but as it pro- bably took more than 800 plants to form this belt, I do not think anybody could complain of the scarcity of them, We will next pass up the walk by the streamlet that runs through the centre of the grass. This is tastefully margined with tufts of water plants; but a novel and THE SQUARES, PLACES, CHURCH GARDENS, ETC. 93 praiseworthy feature is added. At some distance from the margin—from four to ten feet—are planted here and there single specimens of plants which, while not of the water or the marsh, assimilate more or less in character with the plants of those places—hardy Bamboos, Yuccas, PER DE OUEST. CHEMIN DE Fia. 35. @ 3" 8% v if y 13°G* Eon ong ow PS SS SOO Se COLSSE SETS [fee hse i eee cde des ee ee” Erianthus, and other large grasses, some truly fine Acanthus latifolius, the Pampas Grass, Tamarix, Funkia grandiflora, &c. Finally, we arrive at a mass of ivy and creeper clad rockwork, from which issues the source of the rivulet: this rockwork has its rear hidden amongst trees. 94 THE SQUARE DES BATIGNOLLES. The Square des Batignolles, constructed on the once open space in front of the church belonging to the com- mune, is the largest of all the squares belonging to new Paris; it contains over three acres of ground, without taking into consideration wide promenades planted with trees outside. It cost no less than 60,0007. The works were commenced in 1862, and were finished the following year. In a work of. this kind minute details, especially of commonplace subjects, are very rarely desirable, and for this reason I avoid as much as possible describing the contents of the squares and gardens in full. Nevertheless, some may wish to know about the details of the planting, and in the case of this square it is given. It will be noted that each group of Section 1] is divided in three—the first being trees ; the second the shrubs that adorn the outer sides of the plantation; the third the decorative plants of the margin. The numbers answer to those of the plan on page 938. Sect. 1.—Groups of trees, shrubs, and flowers—1. Asculus rubicunda, Afisculus hippocastanum, Tilia europea, Padus virginiana.—Ligustrum ovali- folium, Berberis vulgaris, Ribes sanguineum, Virgilia rosea, Lonicera tartarica — Phlox decussata, Coleus Verschaffeltii—2. Paulownia imperialis, Catalpa syringeefolia, Platanus occidentalis, Negundo fraxinifolium.—Forsythia viridis- sima, Ribes (in var.), Spirea (in var.), Sambucus nigra, Symphoricarpus (in var).—Pelargonium zonale inquinans, var. Prince Imperial—2. Aésculus hippocastanum, Sorbus aucuparia, Cytisus laburnum, Acer platanoides, Alnus communis.—Ligustrum ovalifolium, Ligustrum spicatum, yang japonica, Buxus sempervirens angustifolius, Prunus lauro-Cerasus—Chrysanthemum pin- natifidum.—4. Alnus communis, Keelreuteria paniculata, Padus virginiana, Paulownia imperialis—Ligustrum spicatum, Ligustrum ovalifolium, Cytisus sessilifolius, Mahonia Aquifolium, Berberis vulgaris.—Pelargonium zonale in- quinans, var. Christinus——5. Juglans nigra, Sorbus aucuparia, Tilia europea, Acer platanoides, Platanus orientalis, Robinia viscosa.—Lonicera tartarica, Sam- bucus racemosa, Mahonia Aquifolium, Euonymus japonicus, Deutzia scabra, Kerria japonica, Weigelia rosea.—Phlox decussata.—6. Robinia Pseud-Acacia, Acer striatum, Cytisus laburnum, Catalpa syringzefolia, Eleagnus angustifolius.— Hibiscus syriacus, Philadelphus coronarius, Ligustrum ovalifolium, Ligustrum spicatum, Viburnum Lantana, Tamarix indica, Chionanthus virginica.— Ageratum ccelestinum.—7. Catalpa syringzfolia, Alnus glandulosus, Cytisus Laburnum, Sophora japonica, Juglans nigra, Robinia Pseud-Acacia.—Berberis vulgaris, Viburnum Opulus, Ribes sanguineum, Euonymus japonicus, Philadelphus inodorum, Deutzia scabra—Veronica var. Gloire de Lyon.—8. Tilia argentea Acer striatum, Aisculus hippocastanum, Sophora japonica, Robinia Pseud-Acacia, Fraxinus excelsior var. aurea.—Ribes sanguineum, Forsythia viridissima, Malus spectabilis, Prunus japonica, Cytisus sessilifolius, Kerria japonica, Deutzia scabra. —Achyranthes Verschaffeltii—9. Alnus fulva, Asculus hippocastanum, Sophora japonica, Tilia europea, Cytisus laburnum, Sorbus aucuparia, Acer platanoides.— Mabonia Aquifolium, Deutzia scabra, Forsythia viridissima, Philadelphus grandi- florus, Kerria japonica, Sambucus laciniata, Chionanthus virginica.—Pelargonium zonale inquinans, var. Eugénie Mézard—10, Sorbus aucuparia, Acer plata- THE SQUARE DE MONTROUGE. 95 noides, Juglans nigra, Paulownia imperialis, Alnus glandulosus, Catalpa syringe- folia.—Euonymus japonicus, Forsythia viridissima, Philadelphus coronaria, Mahonia Aquifolium, Cornus alba, Robinia hispida—Gazania s lendens, Phlox decussata.—11. Negundo _fraxinifolium, Populus fastigiata, alee nigra, snips syringzfolia, Cytisus laburnum, Sorbus aucuparia.—Symphoricarpus alba, Forsythia viridissima, Ribes sanguineum, Euonymus japonicus, Deutzia scabra, Syringa (in var. ).—Chrysanthemum frutescens.—12. Paulownia im- perialis, Negundo fraxinifolium, Tilia europea, Aasculus hippocastanum, Ausculus rubicunda, Catalpa syringzlfolia, Acer striatum.—Ribes Gordonii, Weigelia rosea Mahonia Aquifolium, Syringa inodorum, Kerria japonica, Hibiscus syriacus,— Phlox (in var.), Ptarmica flore pleno, Calceolaria tugosa.—13. A®sculus hippo- castanum, Aisculus rubicunda, Robinia viscosa, Paulownia imperialis, Acer pla- tanoides.—Berberis foliis purpureis, Deutzia scabra, Forsythia viridissima, Rhus Cotinus, Prunus lauro-Cerasus, Euonymus japonicus.—Phlox decussata, Lantana var. Queen Victoria—14, Sophora Japonica, Juglans regia, Acer rubrum, Ailantus glandulosus, Cytisus laburnum, Robinia viscosa.—Bupleurum _ fruti- cosum, Prunus lauro-Cerasus, Euonymus japonicus, Spirea (in var.), Hibiscus syriacus, Tamarix indica, Rhus Cotinus, Viburnum Opulus.—Phlox decussata, Coleus Verschaffeltii—15. Acer platanoides, Paulownia imperialis, Cytisus laburnum, Sorbus aucuparia, Robinia Pseud-Acacia, Acer pseudo-Platanus,— Ligustrum ovalifolium, Prunus colchica, Sambucus racemosa, Berberis vulgaris, Rhus glabra, Kerria japonica, Ribes aureum.—Chrysanthemnm frutescens.— 16. Paulownia imperialis, Acer striatum, Catalpa syringeefolia, Tilia argentea, Sophora japonica, Asculus hippocastanum.—Amorpha fruticosa, Ligustram spicatum, Euonymus japonicus, Sambucus nigra, Pranus Mahaleb, Kerria japo- nica, Cornus alba.—Fuchsia (in var.). Section 2.—Beds for foliage plants and flowers.—17. Pelargonium zonale inquinans.—18. Hibiscus. rosa sinensis, Nierembergia frutescens.—19. Senecio platanifolia, Centaurea candidissima.—20. Heliotropium var. Anna Thurel, Koniga maritima var. foliis variegatis—21. Colocasia bataviense.—Calceolaria rugosa, Gazania splendens.— 22. Ficus Cooperii, Cuphea platycentra. — 23. Colocasia esculenta, Koniga maritima.—24. Campanula pyramidalis, var. cerulea et alba.—25. Musa paradisiaca, Lobelia erinus—26. Plumbago scan- dens, Dianthus var. Seneclauzii. Section 3.—Isolated trees and plants.—27. Bambusa aurea.—28. Pinus uncinata.—29. Araucaria imbricata.—30. Salisburia adiantifolia—31. Pinus excelsa. — 32. Thujopsis borealis—33. Cupressus funebris,—34. Cedrus deodora.—35. Thuja occidentalis Warreana——36 Abies Pinsapo.—37. Thu- jopsis borealis. The Square de Montrouge.—Although our island is in good repute for its natural verdure, I feel pretty sure that there are few Britons who would not be persuaded of the necessity of more efficient watering in our public gardens if they had seen this square during the last days of the month of August of the past year. To say it was green would be to give the faintest idea of the glistening, deep, and refreshing verdure displayed by everything in it, from the trees to the grass. It is a very small place, not so big as Leicester-square, but quite a gem in its way. It is simply laid out with belts of low trees and shrubs; the centre of the little lawn left un- adorned, while all around its edges really distinct and good things are dotted about. The Acanthuses were very fine here 96 THE SQUARE DU TEMPLE. in consequence of the constant and thorough waterings. Previous to visiting this garden, I had no idea that they would under any treatment look so well at the end of a hot season.