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Cornell University Library 
SB 453.D73 1913 

The American flower garden, 

3 1924 016 420 279 


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. 








J* r> 


American Flower Garden 



Planting Lists by Leonard Barron 




Garden City New York 



" 'What is a garden?' It is man's report of earth at her best. It is earth 
emancipated from the commonplace. It is man's love of loveliness carried to 
excess — man's craving for the ideal grown to a fine lunacy. It is piquant won- 
derment; culminated beauty that, for all its combination of telling and select items, 
can still contrive to look natural, debonair, native to its place." 

— John D. Sedding. 



I. The Partnership Between Nature and Art . . i 

II. Situation and Design 13 

III. The Formal Garden 29 

IV. The Old-Fashioned Garden 43 

V. The Naturalistic Garden 67 

VI. The Wild Garden 79 

VII. The Rock Garden 97 

VIII. The Water Garden 11 1 

IX. Trees 131 

X. Shrubs 163 

XI. Perennials for a Thought-out Garden . . -193 

XII. Annuals 231 

XIII. Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Ornamental Grasses . 255 

XIV. The Rose Garden 289 

XV. Vines 319 

XVI. Garden Furniture 337 




An Abandoned Stone Quarry, Transformed by the Subtle 

Art of the Gardener (A. Radclyffe Dugmore). Frontispiece 


Coreopsis and Larkspur along a Grassy Path (A. Radclyffe 

Dugmore) 198 

This Section of an Old and Over-large Vegetable Garden 
Was Transformed into a Home for Hardy Roses (A. Rad- 
clyffe Dugmore) 298 

A Sheltered Pergola Uniting House and Garden (A. Rad- 
clyffe Dugmore) 348 


A Happy Combination of Nature and Art (Henry Troth) . 4 

To Lengthen Distance and Add to the Apparent Size of 

One's Grounds (Henry Troth) 5 

For Uniting a Boundary Belt of Trees to a Lawn (Henry 

Troth) 6 

No Single Feature so Successfully Unites a House to the 
Surrounding Landscape as a Fine Old Tree (Herbert 
Angell) 7 

An Embellished but Naturally Beautiful Piece of Land 

CT. Horace McFarland") 10 


x The American Flower Garden 


That it May Give the most Pleasure to Busy People, the 
Garden Should Be Conveniently near the Home 
(Russell Doubleday) n 

Privacy, Shades and a Distant Prospect within a Ring of 

Flowers (J. Horace McFarland Company) . . . . 18 

"Some Flotsam and Jetsam of Bloom, like the Sand-loving 

portulaca and sea plnks, extend almost to the waves " 10 

A Garden Overlooked from an Entrance Drive (E. E. Soder- 

holtz) 22 

A Hardy Garden Bordering a Lawn (J. Horace McFarland 

Company) 23 

For a Home Occupied in Summer only (Nathan R. Graves) . 26 

Restored Garden in the House of the Vettii, Pompeii . 27 

Landing Place for Pleasure Boats on the Lake in a Renais- 
sance Garden, Rome 34 

The Pool, Falconieri, Reflecting Cypresses Five Centuries 

Old 35 

A Garden Arranged with Flower-filled Parterres, after 

the Italian Method (Henry Troth) 36 

One of the Best Modern American Formal Gardens (J. Hor- 
ace McFarland Company) 37 

A Charming Small Garden Inexpensive to Plant and to 

Maintain (Henry Troth) 42 

The Garden, Mount Vernon, Showing French Influence, 

Probably le Notre's (Leet Brothers) 4, 

Boxwood Hedges over a Century Old (Henry Troth) . . 48 

A Tangle of Beauty and Luxuriance (Henry Troth) . . 49 

An Unpretentious, Home-like Little Garden (Henry Troth) 52 

Illustrations xi 


Fraxinella, the Fragrant-leaved and Resinous Gas Plant, 

Beloved by Our Grandmothers (Dr. R. L. Dickinson) 53 

The Spirit of the Colonial Home and Garden (Nathan R. 

Graves) 62 

Poet's Narcissus Naturalised along an Open Woodland 

Walk (J. Horace McFarland) 63 

Star-like Narcissi in the Wild Grass (A. Radclyffe Dug- 
more) ........... 70 

Section of the Same Bit of Naturalistic Planting Shown in 

the Preceding Picture (A. Radclyffe Dugmore) . . 71 

Tall, Late Garden Tulips (Gesneriana) Naturalised in a 
Grassy Border in Front of Shrubbery (J. Horace 
McFarland) 72 

Tawny Orange Day Lilies Naturalised along a Drive 

(J. Horace McFarland) 73 

Permanent Hardy Lilies and Shirley Poppies (R. B. Whyte) 76 

Double English Daisies Discarded from Formal Flower 
Beds May Be Naturalised on the Sunny Bank of a Pond 
(J. Horace McFarland) 77 

Our Native Bloodroot Delights in having Its Roots in a 

Cool, Rocky Crevice (J. Horace McFarland) ... 82 

Sheets of Blue Forget-me-nots Spread over the Banks of a 

Wild Garden (J. Horace McFarland) 83 

Waxy White Indian Pipes and Creeping Dalibarda (J. 

Horace McFarland) 86 

Our Native Showy Lady's Slipper in Moist Alluvial Soil 

(Willis H. Sargent) 87 

xii The American Flower Garden 


A Grassy Path on either Side of Which Colonies of Wild 

Flowers Bloom (T. E. Marr) 90 

Ferns and Wood Asters in a Shady Place (J. Horace McFar- 

land) 91 

A Suggestive Entrance to a Rock Garden (Henry Troth) . 102 

A Carpet of Creeping Phlox (J. Horace McFarland) . . 103 

Yellow, Orange, and White Perennial Iceland Poppies (J. 

Horace McFarland) ........ 106 

Rock Garden Beside a Brook in Early Spring (J. Horace 

McFarland) 107 

"Water in a Landscape Is as a Mirror to a Room — the Fea- 
ture That Doubles and Enhances all Its Charms" 
(T. E. Marr) 114 

A Brook May Be Induced by a Dam to Overflow a Bit of 
Low-lying Meadow and Become the Principal Factor in 
a Water Garden (Henry Troth) 115 

What Water Garden Was ever Complete without Its 
Golden-hearted, Pastel-tinted Water-lilies ? (C. J. 
Hibbard) 118 

Floating Water-lilies and Indian Lotuses (W. H. Hill) . 119 

What Would One not Give to Possess Such an Oak — the 
Very Embodiment of Strength and Nobility ? (John T. 
Withers) 134 

Strong Mass Planting of Trees and Shrubs along an 

Entrance Drive (O. C. Simonds) 135 

An Avenue of White Pines (Partridge) 138 

Garden Entrance Through a Dense Hedge of Arborvitae 

(Thuya Occidentalis) (T. E. Marr) . ! 39 

Illustrations xiii 


Hornbeam Trees Forming a Pleached Arbour . . . 142 

A Tree Peony Which Blooms Earlier than Its Herbaceous 

Relatives (J. Horace McFarland) 143 

Longfellow's Home Framed by Well-balanced Planting 

(W. H. Halliday) 146 

The Fragrant Native Magnolia of the Swamps and Wet, 

Open Woods (Henry Troth) 147 

"Sure, Ye Can't See the Tree fur the Flowers on It" 

(T. E. Marr) 166 

What Should We Do without Shrubs ? (T. E. Marr) . . 167 

A Fringe of Graceful Deutzias {Gracilis) . . . .176 

The Bridal Wreath (C. J. Crandall & Company) . . . 177 

The Rhododendron Is Our Best Evergreen Shrub (J. Hor- 
ace McFarland) ......... 204 

A Happy Colony of the Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger) 

(Nathan R. Graves) 205 

Lupines Are Flowers of the Sweet-Pea Type Arranged in 
Very Tall, Vertical Clusters (J. Horace McFarland 
Company) 210 

White Phlox, Shell Pink Single Hollyhocks and Bee Lark- 
spur (Herbert Angell) 211 

Boltonia — One of the Best of the Aster-like Plants 

(J. Horace McFarland Company) 220 

A Perennial Border (Henry Troth) 221 

Hollyhocks Are Especially Effective in the Formal Garden 

(J. Horace McFarland) 236 

Aster Border \round an Oak (J. Horace McFarland) . . 237 

xiv The American Flower Garden 


Single White Petunias in the Foreground of Shrubbery 

(Nathan R. Graves) 244 

The Tobacco Plant, Which Looks like a Faded Ball-Room 
Beauty by Day, Should Be Viewed from a Little Dis- 
tance (Nathan R. Graves) 2 45 

Cheerful Yellow Crocuses Glittering on a Lawn in Early 

Spring (Nathan R. Graves) 260 

Emperor Daffodils along an Entrance Drive (A. Radclyffe 

Dugmore) 261 

One of the Loveliest and Easiest Ways to Beautify a Half- 
shady Knoll or a Bit of Open Woodland Is to Plant 
the Star-of-Bethlehem (Henry Troth) .... 268 

Double Border of German Irises along a Grassy Path 

(T. E. Marr) 269 

The Guinea Hen Flower (Nathan R. Graves) .... 276 

Tall White Lilies (L. candidum) Grown in a Circle of Hardy 

Flowers (Claude Miller) 277 

A Long Island Garden Where Roses Are Gathered Every 
Day From May until Thanksgiving with a Tidal Wave 
of Bloom in June (Nathan R. Graves) .... 294 

Marie Van Houtte — A too Tender Tea Rose for Safe Cul- 
tivation in Northern Gardens (O. V. Lange) . . . 295 

Roses for Shrubbery Effects (J. Horace McFarland Company) 308 

Pergolas Are Indebted to the Hardy, Clean, Vigorous 
Rambler Roses for Much of Their Charm (Henry 
Troth) 309 

Wistaria — the Vine of Many Purposes (T. E. Marr) . . 322 

Honeysuckle Vines Lightly Twined about ^h« Eillars 323 

Illustrations xv 


The Vine-clad Front Wall of an Old Stone House (Henry 

Troth) 326 

Why Should the Back-stops of Tennis Courts Usually Be 

Bare and Unsightly ? 327 

rcstrum of the amphitheatre, arlington .... 334 

One of the Advantages in Having a Fountain near the 

House (Floyd E. Baker) 335 

The Marble Table, on Which the Sun-dial Rests, Is a Copy 

of One Unearthed at Pompeii (Gustav Lorey) . . . 340 

Entrance to a Formal Garden Enlivened by aDouble Row of 

Hydrangeas (T. E. Marr) 341 

Rustic Furniture That May Be Left Out in All Weathers 

(Rudolf Eickemeyer, Jr.) 342 

The Formality of Architecture Here Demands Extreme 
Formality in the Treatment of the Grounds Immedi- 
ately Adjoining It (Floyd E. Baker) 343 

An Out-of-door Living-room (Henry Troth) .... 344 

Fountain of Bronze and Marble Designed by Elihu Vedder 345 


"Laying out grounds may be considered a liberal art, in some sort 
like poetry and painting." — Wordsworth. 




WITH praiseworthy zeal men devote their lives to 
depicting nature with paint on canvas; other men 
as patiently toil to reproduce her beauty of form in 
bronze or chiselled marble; and, if they possess the vision of genius, 
all the world concedes both to be artists, however artificial the media 
for expressing their ideals, however lifeless their finished productions. 
But what of the man who no less faithfully devotes his days 
and nights to the study of nature and collaborates with her in the 
production of living pictures ? The landscape gardener, by unit- 
ing his imagination, artistic impulse and will to nature herself, 
utilising natural media for the expression of his artistic feeling, 
would seem to have gone a step beyond either the painter or the 
sculptor, yet why is the term artist so rarely, so grudgingly applied 
to him ? Is it not that, in the perfection of his art, he well-nigh 
obliterates the trace of it? For 

" This is an art 
Which doth mend nature, change it rather, but 
The art itself is nature." 

Even Shakespeare, with the majority, forgets to give the gar- 
dener his due, ascribing all praise to his silent partner. 

In the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, are paintings 
and statuary by artists whose names are household words in all 
civilised lands. Surrounding the museum is a great pleasure 


4 The American Flower Garden 

ground of exceeding beauty where millions of people find recreation 
and delight without even having heard the name of Frederick Law 
Olmsted. Few indeed suspect that they are indebted to his 
imagination and trained artistic sense for Central Park. By 
entering into a working partnership with nature he was enabled to 
transform a tract of unlovely land, interspersed with swamps, 
barren rocks and rubbish heaps, the last resort of squatters and 
goats, into scenes of non-natural but wholly naturalistic beauty; 
and the belief of the enraptured multitude that nature created 
them so, should be rightly interpreted as the triumph of Olmsted's 
creative art. Surely, the man who has wrought out on a vast scale 
so clear an artistic ideal with living pigments should be as fully 
entitled to recognition in the ranks of artists as the painter of a 
landscape on canvas that hangs within the museum walls. There 
is a small but increasing number of critics who count Olmsted 
the greatest artist America has yet produced. 

Who remembers that Raphael, Giulio Romano and Michel- 
angelo, among other great masters of the Renaissance, in the 
exuberance of their artistic genius, lavished it without stint upon 
the gardens of Rome and northern Italy ? Not content with 
designing palaces and churches and decorating them with car- 
vings, paintings, frescoes and statuary within and without, not 
a few great Italian artists planned and embellished gardens which, 
after centuries, still remain masterpieces. But as gardeners these 
artists are well-nigh forgotten. 

Like all creative workers, the gardener of the first rank must 
be endowed with a great imagination that can see clearly the ideal, 
which at first exists only in his brain. In planning the modest 
home grounds, as well as a vast estate or public park, he must 
peer far into the future, anticipate many years of toil and growth, 


The Partnership between Nature and Art 5 

and, with the inner eye alone, see the finished picture which 
may be actually completed by his silent partner long after 
he himself has turned to dust. Art is long and life is short 
indeed, too short, perhaps, for the realisation of even the simplest 
of his ideals. He rarely lives to enjoy the mature majesty of the- 
oak he has planted; yet, from its acorn babyhood onward, through 
every stage of its growth, he sees clearly in his mind's eye its 
ultimate aspect. 

Nature waited patiently through the ages for a partner like 
Luther Burbank to select, hybridise and bring to perfection her 
fruits and flowers. Without the help of the trained scientist her 
own latent possibilities would never have been realised. "Nature," 
said Aristotle, "has the will but not the power to realise perfection." 
That ideal is left for man to realise only by working in partnership 
with her, in harmony with her eternal laws. At last we begin to 
understand the paradox: she is commanded only by obeying her. 
Where nature and the scientific horticulturist leave off, the artistic 
imagination of the gardener takes up their work and composes 
pictures that are an emphasised revelation of natural beauty 
to eyes that have not the gift of the seer; living pictures of 
nature in perfecto which, but for his art, would never have 
found expression. 

But unbridled imagination, without a true sense of propor- 
tion to hold it in check, might easily run away with his greatest 
opportunity. In his student days especially, and indeed through- 
out his life, he cannot study nature too closely; yet it may be that 
he will never find a single scene, however lovely in itself, that could 
be copied exactly and fit in with any of his plans. Detached 
from its large environment its beauty might be lost, its proportion 
destroyed by other surroundings; or the cost of reproducing it 

6 The American Flower Garden 

might be prohibitive, even if it were artistically possible. The 
gardener has first to familiarise himself with nature's "excellences," 
which she has scattered broadcast, and not less with the excellences 
of his art; to find his inspiration in them and then select from his 
storehouse of knowledge, eliminate, adapt, adjust, harmonise, and 
recreate, not only to the scale of his design, but to the measure of 
his own personal ideals, before he tries to produce either a large 
park-like, panoramic landscape or a little garden. His task is 
to create beautiful pictures, not to copy them. True art is never 
an imitation of nature, notwithstanding a popular belief to the 
contrary. Many landscape gardeners, headed by "Capability" 
Brown, have failed as artists because they could not perceive this 
fact. There is a vast difference between truth to nature and a 
servile copying of her. 

The temptation to attempt too much is ever with the artist 
partner. Nature herself is so prodigal that a rich imagination, 
teeming with ideas, finds it difficult to reject her alluring example. 
Only a cultivated sense of proportion can save one from the com- 
mon error of sacrificing the simplicity, unity and strength of the 
design as a whole to the embellishment of unrelated parts. Which 
is to say that no garden, no matter how charming in detail, is 
really good that is not good as a whole. 

Especially are amateurs prone to set out only their pet plants 
without reference to the general effect, to select haphazard from 
the enticing catalogues such plants as are most cleverly described 
or illustrated, without reference to a well thought-out garden design. 
One part of the home grounds, having no relation whatever to 
another part, the main idea, on which more than half of the beauty 
of a place depends, is gradually frittered away on trivialities. 
Strange to say, a general working plan is the last thing most novices 


The Partnership between Nature and Art 7 

think of. Additions to the garden are made impulsively, and 
merely happen to be right or wrong. Every architect can tell you 
harrowing stories of how clients have quite spoiled the effect of 
some of his best houses through inconsistent, haphazard fur- 
nishings within and planting without. So every landscape gar- 
dener cherishes resentment against certain of his clients who, not 
having the knowledge or the inclination to look after their own 
gardens, turn over the care of them to ignorant labourers, whose 
power to spoil the best garden picture ever devised is practically 
unlimited. He justly complains that he is rarely permitted to 
retouch the picture after the first planting. Nature, however, 
never ceases trying her utmost to obliterate all trace of his art and 
the hired man does his worst; while the owner usually either leaves 
all to them or indulges in an annual orgie among the catalogues. 

"Perhaps, I don't know good art," said a self-complacent 
lady at the Royal Academy exhibition, "but I know what I like." 

"Madam," replied the withering Ruskin, "even the beasts of 
the field know that." 

It is as necessary in the art of gardening as in theology to have 
a reason for the faith that is in us. Anyone may at least learn the 
principles of art out-of-doors and the technique of it, although, 
without the gift of imagination and a sense of proportion, form 
and color, one may never hope to become a great artist. But 
these gifts are, by no means commonly possessed by the landscape 
gardeners of the present or any other day, much less monopolised 
by them. Expensive horrors are too often perpetrated on innocent 
soil by trained men who should know better. And it is conversely 
true that some delightful little gardens have been made by un- 
trained amateurs, who nevertheless possess the natural artistic 
gifts. However, ignorance is never a help but a hindrance in any 

8 The American Flower Garden 

profession or calling, and poverty or self-conceit can be the only 
excuse for not getting the* benefit of expert advice. 

Special emphasis needs to be laid upon the gardener's sense 
of proportion for the very practical reason that a design, no matter 
how excellent artistically, can give little pleasure to its owner unless 
it be carefully proportioned to the size of his purse. It is distress- 
ing to see neglected trees, starved shrubbery that cannot bloom, 
worm-eaten roses, weedy lawns and degenerate flowers because 
their owner, in attempting to do too much, could not afford to 
care for them properly. Better a well tended little flower bed 
than an acre of disheartening failures. But is it not equally dis~ 
tressing to see palatial houses set in the midst of cramped, 
confined and ugly grounds that have little money and no taste 
expended upon them? Long ago Lord Bacon observed: "A 
man shall ever see that, when ages grow to civility and elegancy, 
men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely, as if 
gardening were the greater perfection." 

In democratic America it has come to be thought an indica- 
tion of social selfishness when much is spent upon the interior of 
a home, for the gratification of the family, to the exclusion of worthy 
adornment of the home grounds, in whose beauty every passer-by 
may share. A well-known architect, who is also an expert 
landscape gardener, stipulates, before taking a contract, that at 
least one-tenth of the cost of a suburban or country house shall be 
expended upon its proper setting. He argues both from the 
artistic and the altruistic points of view. Certain it is that the 
modest small homes and gardens which are his special delight 
possess rare unity and charm. He executes a picture complete in 
itself before he leaves his task. 

The true artist out-of-doors must needs haxe^a well dpvplr>n*»r1 

The Partnership between Nature and Art 9 

sense of form. He appreciates, as well as a Greek classicist, the 
value and the beauty of a line. His eye follows joyfully the con- 
tour of a range of hills, the flowing curves of a little river meander- 
ing through a meadow, bold masses of woodland and wild shrub- 
bery, the sky-line broken by tree tops, a winding road climbing 
the hill-side, the bare beauty of an elm in winter, the jagged out- 
line of a rock, the slender swaying stem of a reed. These he 
studies and adapts for a naturalistic garden. 

But the study of art has also taught him the beauty of the 
circle and the ellipse in a classic garden, of straight avenues of 
trees and of clipped hedges, of vistas through long, parallel rows 
of vine-encircled columns, of the fountain, the mirror-like pool, 
the direct paths that do but emphasise the formality of the design, 
the broad velvety terraces, the box-edged parterres of gay flowers, 
the stately, columnar trees; and he knows that, if by employing 
these he can produce a picture in harmony with the architecture it 
surrounds and still gratify the aesthetic sense, he has fulfilled what 
Taine, in his "Philosophy of Art," declared to be art's mission. 

In Japan there is a saying: "Let no one use the word 'beauti- 
ful' until he has seen Nikko." No Occidental should ever use 
the word, in connection with a garden at least, until he has seen 
the old classic gardens of Italy. Here, in this new country, where 
art out-of-doors is only beginning to be understood and appreciated, 
where there are so lamentably few standards of artistic excellence 
and where so many crimes are committed in the name of Italian 
gardens, it is small wonder that a popular prejudice against 
them exists. Without a proper sense of form on the maker's part, 
even a naturalistic garden becomes a chaos and a void. 

There is a well-known American artist who has every quality 
essential for greatness except the colour sense. Indeed he is colour- 

io The American Flower Garden 

blind. A master draughtsman of imagination and power, his 
work in black and white is at once his triumph and his limitation. 
With a passion to paint in colours, he dares not trust himself to use 
them lest they be the undoing of his reputation. Would that 
many gardeners similarly afflicted might exercise his self-restraint! 

Some people there are, not artists, who have an instinctive 
colour sense, which, when applied to garden making, gives pleasure 
beyond any other gift. Celia Thaxter was one of these. Poppies, 
as she grew them in her garden by the thousand, outlined against 
the summer sea, were a vision of beauty that no one who saw them 
can ever forget. She had an unerring instinct that told her not 
only where to sow her seeds broadcast over the little island garden 
in the Isles of Shoals, but what coloured flowers, blooming in rapid 
succession and in crowds throughout the long summer, would so 
combine as always to make an harmonious whole. Childe Hassam's 
paintings of the lovely pageant have fortunately preserved the 
spirit of the sea-girt garden, which was as wild and free as the sea 
itself, and also the colour for which it is chiefly memorable. 

It is not a simple matter to so plan a garden as to have no clash 
of colour in it any day of the year. The pink phlox, that should 
have finished blooming before the orange marigolds next it opened 
a bud, perhaps prolongs its bloom because of unseasonably cool 
weather, and the eye with a sensitive colour nerve behind its lens 
turns quickly from the sight. Flaming Oriental poppies do not 
always have an acre of greensward separating them from the June 
roses. It should be impossible to include both at a glance. The 
eye that can tolerate a magenta petunia anywhere will doubtless 
not object to it in an iron vase next to a scarlet geranium where it 
usually appears; nor will such an untrained eye weep when a 
purple Jackman's clematis spreads its royal bloom against a red 


The Partnership between Nature and Art n 

brick house, or when masses of reddish purple bougainvillea blos- 
soms fairly scream at the scarlet poinsettias in a tropical garden. 
But, by careful selection in the first place, by instant removal 
where two colours in juxtaposition offend, by the introduction of 
green and white peacemakers among the warring flowers, harmony 
can be maintained and it must be else there is no repose, no 
"content in a garden." 


" There is no such thing as a style fitted for every situation; only one who 
knows and studies the ground well will ever make the best of a garden and any 
'style' may be right, where the site fits it. I never see a house the ground around 
which does not invite plans for itself only.'" — W. Robinson. 

"All rational improvement of grounds is, necessarily, founded on a due 
attention to the character and situation of the place to be improved; the former 
teaches what is advisable, the latter what is possible to be done; while the extent 
of the premises has less influence than is generally imagined; as, however large 
or small it may be, one of the fundamental principles of landscape gardening 
is to disguise the real boundary." — Repton. 



ONE reason why English gardens are so wonderful to us 
Americans is that successive generations, perhaps for 
hundreds of years, have been lovingly and intelligently 
at work upon them, each striving to adorn the main design in some 
new detail before passing over the inheritance to the next heir. 
At the sight of the surpassing beauty of Old World country estates, 
as contrasted with our raw, new, mushroom homes, that are rarely 
lived in by two generations, one is almost persuaded against his 
better judgment that inheritance through primogeniture and 
entail must be the proper method. Perhaps we may be wise enough 
some day to achieve the same ends by more just means, consistent 
with republican, not monarchic, conditions. Instead of endowing 
our oldest sons, the heirs-apparent to our little thrones, we may 
endow the homestead itself — who knows? — just as we endow 
hospitals and colleges to insure their future maintenance. Happy 
the children who are brought up in a little world of beauty and 
who may one day hope to inherit it all — the well grown trees, the 
velvety lawn, the established vines and shrubbery — all the 
cumulative results of love's labour. Certainly, unless one may 
work for permanence in the garden there can be little incentive 
in this country toward the best art out-of-doors. 

It is, of course, expecting too much that the site of the house 
should be chosen solely with reference to the best conditions for 
its garden. We place our homes, as a general rule, not where there 
is good, rich loam, not where fine trees are already established and 


1 6 The American Flower Garden 

the situation is sheltered, but where the house will be convenient 
to the railroad station, the school, our friends, or the golf links; 
or where a special bargain in real estate may be had, or where 
the greatest number of windows will command the finest views, 
or where the prevailing summer breezes will sweep through the 
living-rooms, or where they will be protected from winter winds, 
or where the sunshine may pour health into them, or where perfect 
drainage and a water supply are best assured. These and a 
hundred other practical reasons may dominate the selection of a 
building site. Relying upon the bounty of nature to provide 
embellishments for every spot on earth man has yet decided to 
live upon — and she has plants for every place and purpose — we 
have been too apt to ignore the garden's claims until the eleventh 
hour and to concentrate all our thought, oftentimes all our money 
plus a mortagage, upon the house itself, leaving little or nothing 
for the setting of the home picture, in which, after all, the house 
should be merely the most important detail. 

But if there is to be a union of the house and the landscape 
into which it obtrudes — a happy marriage between the house and 
the garden — the help of the artist-gardener is needed most of all 
before the house is started, I had almost said before the land is 
bought. For it is the design of a place as a whole that is the main 
thing, whether the size of the picture that is to be wrought out is 
reckoned in miles, acres, or square feet. If the home-maker 
cannot afford to execute the whole plan at the outset, it is all the 
more reason that he should possess such a design and proceed 
methodically to do what he can, year by year, to execute it 
permanently, rather than waste his money on costly experiments. 
A rich man can afford mistakes; a poor one cannot. Moving soil, 
for example, is surprisingly expensive. A cart-load of it dumped 

Situation and Design 17 

on a lawn looks but little larger than an ant-hill, and the equivalent 
of a landscape architect's fee might be easily wasted in an unintelli- 
gent disposal of the top soil alone. A plan which involves annual 
upheavals and repeated efforts upon the same piece of land and 
the incessant care of a skilled gardener, is a very poor plan indeed 
for a man of modest means. Skyrocket effects of coleus, geraniums 
and other bedding plants from the florist are rarely desirable in 
any case, but usually the novice's first undirected efforts are to get 
them. All plants require some attention, but not necessarily 
annual attention; certainly not annual renewal. A permanent 
planting of hardy shrubs and perennials has all the artistic qualities 
and the practical ones as well. Since it takes years for newly 
planted trees to look thoroughly at home, delay in setting them 
out means a needless prolonging of the raw, unfinished state of 
the place. The era of vanity — or was it parsimony? — when 
every man presumed to be his own lawyer, his own doctor, or 
architect, or garden designer, is happily being superseded by an 
age of specialists whom the wise consult more and more. 

It goes without saying that the professional gardener to be 
chosen should be practical as well as an artist — one who has had 
too much experience with growing things to advise planting elms 
on a dry, sandy hill-top or tea roses near Quebec. Enormous 
sums have been wasted on rhododendrons alone, through attempting 
to grow in this country imported foreign hybrids which soon give 
up the struggle for existence in our uncongenial climate; whereas 
lasting and equally beautiful effects may be produced from hardy 
hybrids of our native rhododendron race. Costly mistakes are 
made annually in planting yews and certain other European ever- 
greens. Manchuria and Siberia, with climatic conditions similar 
to our own, are likely to yield far more valuable treasures for the 

1 8 The American Flower Garden 

lawn and garden than the continent of Europe, where we have 
looked too long, not only for models of design, which may be 
sometimes desirable, but for the plants to execute them, which 
most often are not. 

Where is that nurseryman's catalogue so frankly honest that 
the novice may learn from it what not to buy ? It is safe to say 
that millions of dollars worth of plants die for the lack of intelligent 
selection, planting, or care. Decidedly, for economic reasons as 
well as artistic, we Americans are sorely in need of more disinter- 
ested, expert advice. But beware of the adviser who has an axe 
to grind. There are some excellent men connected with nursery 
establishments of the highest class, but the frequent tendency is 
to retain "landscape gardeners" of little or no artistic training 
whose real business is to sell plants for their employers. Naturally 
the 1 temptation is to load the client with as much stock as possible, 
regardless of its value to the general effect of his place. " Plant 
thick; thin quick," is a popular saying in the trade. The 
disinterested professional, with no commercial connections, makes 
it his business to secure for his client the best stock that may be 
purchased anywhere in the open market and at the lowest price. 
Likewise beware of the landscape gardener who does not insist 
upon studying the garden problem on the land where it is to be 
worked out; who would attempt to furnish a design from a few 
photographs of your grounds at his office desk, or copy another 
garden that he made successfully elsewhere. Ninety-nine chances 
out of one hundred it will not suit your place; perhaps not a 
single feature could be transferred to advantage. It is easier to 
copy than to originate, but rarely satisfying either to the aesthetic 
or to the moral sense. 

The architect of the house, who very often essays the rdle of 

Situation and Design 19 

designer of its surroundings, that the effect of his work may not be 
spoiled by his client, usually lacks a knowledge of plants, without 
which there can be no lasting success. Such knowledge can be 
had only by years of special study and experiment, quite beyond 
the attainment of most professional architects. The landscape 
gardener on the other hand, very often lacks the needful knowledge 
of design, apart from the naturalistic treatment of very large park- 
like areas. He may know a great deal about plants, how to choose 
and how to grow them, but usually he knows very little about the 
principles of art and design, or how to treat the land adjoining 
buildings. The natural landscape he understands, and his usual 
endeavour is to bring its purely informal lines right up to the purely 
formal lines of a building, with disastrous results from the artistic 
view-point. Happily there are not a few well-rounded men, 
however, trained in design as well as horticulture, who are lifting 
the art of gardening in this country to a higher plane than it ever 
before attained here. And more will be forthcoming when their 
value is more generally appreciated. 

But if, for any sufficient cause, one may not employ disinterested, 
expert advice, one may at least proceed in the artistic spirit along 
reasonable lines, acquiring by patient study of one's own peculiar 
problem the knowledge necessary to solve it, and so enjoy one's 
self all the fun of garden making. Then, indeed, the garden 
becomes one's very own and best beloved. It is not, or should not 
be, a matter of capricious taste, but a matter of reason and the 
affections. Principles of composition govern its making, it is 
true, as surely as they do a painting in oils; nevertheless the 
application of those principles to each individual garden problem 
should be as various as the gardens themselves that each may 
possess its own distinctive features and charm. Personality 

20 The American Flower Garden 

reflected in a garden may be its chief attraction. Better a craving 
for the ideal carried to a "fine lunacy" than the coldly correct, 
impersonal art of an unimpassioned hireling. It were happiness 
indeed if, when the time for garden making comes, Art 

"shall say to thee: 
' I find you worthy, do this thing for me.' " 

Before daring to proceed with a single detail on the place, 
study your piece of land as a whole from every point of view. Map 
it out on a large sheet of tough paper. Draw it to scale, if possible. 
Show its elevations and depressions and respect these as far as 
may be when you come to grade rather than attempt the expense 
and achieve the ugliness of reducing the land to a monotonous 
level like a billiard table. Every plot of ground, like every human 
face, has an individuality to be emphasised rather than obliterated. 
If your place is not a small one, divide the map into several 
enlarged sections for special study and treatment. This book can 
help you with only one section, the area to be pictorially treated. 
It concerns itself with the flower garden only, not with forestry, 
road-making, the vegetable garden, orchard, vineyard, poultry 
yard, or any other utilitarian subject, however important, that may 
engage the home-maker's attention. But the flower garden, of 
many types, is broadly interpreted to include the lawn and the trees 
and shrubs suitable for it, because these contribute so immeasur- 
ably to the garden picture that no really good one can be made 
without them. In the succeeding chapters the artistic principles 
that should govern each style of garden and the directions for its 
making will be given for the benefit of the novice with aspirations. 

On the chart of the garden area put arrows to indicate the 
direction of objects of beauty or interest, such as a fine view, a 
vista through the trees, a gigantic pine, or a mirror-like lake toward 

situation and Design 21 

which attention should be directed. Put crosses where unsightly 
objects need to be screened or planted out; but first make very 
sure that what you have considered an eye-sore may not be 
transformed into an object of beauty. Consider deepening the 
dismal swamp into a pond for a water garden; covering the dead 
tree with a mantle of vines instead of chopping it down; making an 
alpine garden among the rocks instead of blasting them out. 

Think well before locating the house, even on paper, and 
include the drive or path by which it is to be approached in your 
calculations. Many a house has been completed before it was 
discovered that the only route left to it approached from the worst 
possible point of vantage, or spoiled the chances for a good broad 
lawn, or necessitated too steep a grade, or cut the garden picture 
in half. 

Oftentimes considerable planting maybe done on larger grounds 
than suburban lots before the house is built, but only on the area 
outside of the building operations, where the carpenter's, plumber's 
and painter's horses will not feast upon the tender new growth or 
strip off the bark from your favourite possessions. As soon as the 
design of your place has been mapped out, a list of such trees, shrubs 
and hardy perennials as will be needed to execute it may be made. 
Do not try to collect a museum of plants ; avoid freaks of variegated 
foliage, exclamation points of colour, strange exotics that look out 
of place in our American landscape, and the beguiling novelties 
of the catalogues. Personally visit several reliable nurseries if 
possible, make your own selections and see them tagged with your 
name. Choose well-grown, vigorous stock at a fair price rather 
than the puny disappointments that, alas ! are what tempt so many 
because they are erroneously considered cheap. Many a man, 
intensely practical in his own business, will give his order to the 

»a The American Flower Garden 

lowest bidder among competing nurserymen and waste years 
looking at sickly, struggling or dying trees, shrubs and perennials 
about his home rather than invest a little more money and get 
satisfaction and joy from the start. Poor stock is dear at any price. 

In an out-of-the-way corner of your place prepare the ground 
for a little nursery of your own by deeply ploughing the soil, 
enriching it well, and lightening it, if it be heavy, with sand, leaf- 
mould from the woods or humus from the compost heap. Plants 
make very slow growth in clay soil. A rich, sandy loam, cool 
and moist with much decomposed vegetable matter through it, 
favours the rapid growth that the owner of a new place so greatly 
longs for. As soon as the stock arrives, set it out in rows, with 
room to spread and with sufficient space between the rows for 
cultivation with the wheeled hoe. A mulch of stable litter or 
leaves will protect the roots from drying out in summer and from 
winter frosts. Perhaps a greater percentage of nursery stock dies 
for the lack of mulching before it becomes well established than 
from any other cause. If the house is not to be built for a few 
years, this little nursery will yield a very high rate of compound 
interest, for the small stock, which it pays the nurseryman best to 
sell you, was comparatively cheap, but it would be sadly ineffective 
on a new place; whereas the larger, older stock you now possess, 
which is disproportionately costly and difficult to buy, gives 
delightful, quick results. Be sure you know just the tree or shrub 
for a given spot on your place before buying it. One can no more 
plant one's grounds in a hurry than one can successfully furnish 
a house outright in a week. One must feel one's way along, and 
realise the need of a certain plant for a certain place before pro- 
ceeding to get it. 

Near the place chosen for the garden, its jealous guardian 

Situation and Design 23 

angel will save every precious ounce of top soil and sod that comes 
from the site of the house and the cutting of drives and paths. 
There will be no wasteful burning of leaves in the autumn. What 
are not needed as a mulch will form the basis of a rich compost 
heap piled up with broken sod, cut grass, manure, and wood ashes. 
The merest novice must know that there can be no success in a 
garden without a careful study of the soil, and the needs of the 
various species of plants that are to draw their sustenance from it. 

Some situations there are, a very few, where a house may 
be placed in the midst of wild scenery, so surpassingly beautiful 
in itself, that any garden artifice attempted seems a profanation. 
But even a camp in the wildest Adirondacks, without some planting 
about it to simulate Nature's garden coming to its very doors, 
appears to spring impertinently from the soil like a Jack-from-the- 
box. The very act of building a house anywhere destroys nature's 
balance, and man's best endeavours are required first of all to 
restore harmony. Whether the situation demands a wild garden 
or a formal one, the matter of fundamental importance is to 
establish the right relationship at the outset between the house 
and its environment. 

A bit of wild tangled woodland is very beautiful, but it is not 
a garden, and the moment a man thrusts a spade into the earth 
or fells a tree, or sets out a plant where one did not grow before, 
that moment he becomes responsible for the effect of the land 
he subverts to his will. A garden should be "man's report of 
earth at her best." 

There are those ardent lovers of unspoiled nature who consider 
any house a pimple on her face. Salve it over with vines, veil it 
heavily with trees and shrubbery, still it is a blemish to be apologised 
for, if not concealed. Surely a well-designed house, pure in style 

24 The American Flower Garden 

and restrained in treatment, needs no apology for its existence. 
Beauty of architecture is its own excuse for being. In this day of 
well-trained architects there should be no excuse, except the 
untrained client, for building an ugly house. Unhappily, mongrel 
architecture is still in our midst — "the pug-Newfoundland-poodle- 
hound-style," a famous architect calls it — but it is passing, and a 
distinguished Englishman who recently revisited this country after 
an absence of fifteen years declares that in no direction have the 
Americans made more rapid advance than in the building of beau- 
tiful homes. We have learned the wisdom of consulting the best 
architects before attempting to build. As a people, we have not 
yet learned to seek advice of a similar artistic grade when it comes 
to the treatment of that most important piece of land in all the 
world — the area, be it large or small, around the home ; which is 
why one may see a dozen good houses before one can discover a 
single beautiful, satisfying bit of art out-of-doors. Every architect, 
let us hope, will one day have a professional gardener associate 
in his office. Their work is largely interdependent. The advantage 
of frequent conferences between them would be immeasurable 
to the client. 

The style of architecture best adapted to the climate, natural 
situation and purse of the owner having been decided, the next 
problem to present itself is how to tie the bald new house to the 
landscape into which it suddenly obtrudes. Obviously the solution 
must vary in every case. The Colonial type of house would lose 
its dignity if surrounded by woods and a wild garden like a log 
camp, and the unpretentious little seaside vacation cottage be made 
ridiculous by an Italian garden on a terrace. A Spanish house 
needs palms, yuccas and other tropical or semi-tropical garden 
accessories under Southern skies. Each style of architecture and 

Situation and Design 25 

no style of architecture demand a different setting. While the 
stately, perfectly proportioned Georgian type requires a formal, bal- 
anced treatment of trees and shrubbery masses immediately about 
it, and implies the box-edged parterres filled with old-fashioned 
flowers as a central feature of the garden design, the house of 
nondescript architecture, which might well be called the Predomi- 
nant, may be treated electively, and sometimes most informally. 
Even the house that is "Queen Anne in front and Mary Ann 
behind" may have some of its ugliness mercifully concealed. 
It is a mistake to suppose that design can concern formality only. 
Where the architecture is not pure, vines, shrubbery and trees, 
judiciously placed, may perhaps conceal the defects, which is 
one of the many things to be said in favour of the informal treat- 
ment. Although such a house may have shrubs and flowers all 
about it, it may possess no special spot that might properly be 
called a flower garden at all. However, there are very few houses 
indeed that are not improved by a formal touch about them some- 
where. Most houses, of whatever style, are benefited through 
carrying the principles of architectural design out to their imme- 
diate surroundings. Not every Elizabethan house was set on a 
bowling green above a hedged and knotted garden, nor need it 
be to-day; but surely no one with the artistic spirit would try to 
unite it to the landscape by a Japanese garden. Yet a newly rich 
lady, whose architect had achieved a Tudor triumph in stone and 
half timber, surrounded it with a poor imitation of a Japanese 
landscape in miniature within six weeks after the architect's back 
was turned. 

"I can never forgive you," wrote the outraged designer. 

"What concern is it of yours ? Is n't your bill paid ?" replied 
the complacent parvenu, who, that very day, was arranging for 

26 The American Flower Garden 

the Japanese water-garden of many storks, stones and bridges, to 
be fed from an old Florentine fountain on the other side of the 
house. The idea of giving her Elizabethan house a suitable setting 
in which the shades of Lord Bacon or Shakespeare himself might 
feel at home, could not enter such a head unaided by a tactful 
professional gardener. 

The style of architecture of the house may be a limitation or a 
great opportunity, whichever one is pleased to consider it. Infinite 
variety is possible with the historic method. It is not necessarily 

There are cases, perhaps, where a better architectural effect 
may be had by bringing an unbroken stretch of lawn to the very 
foundations of a house where vines and a fringe of shrubbery 
might be their only screen; but in order that it may give the most 
pleasure, the garden should be conveniently near the dwelling. 
Then it may be lived with and lived in, enjoyed without effort, 
seen from the windows by busy workers indoors, tended with the 
least trouble, quickly robbed of some of its wealth for vases by 
the mistress of the house, its interests safeguarded by every 
member of the family, as well as the hired man. Only by living 
with one's garden can its beauties be fully realised, for every pass- 
ing cloud changes the effect of light and atmosphere — the most 
potent factors of beauty out-of-doors. A garden by moonlight 
becomes a new revelation. Then every defect is concealed, 
glaring colours recede into nothingness, and only the white flowers 
— the long fragrant trumpets of nicotine, spires of foxgloves, tall 
white lilies, a Milky Way of cosmos stars, snow balls of phlox 
and peonies or a foam of boltonia — have their loveliness enhanced 
by the night. 

If we must walk through wet grass to a distant part of the 


Situation and Design 27 

grounds on a hot day, perhaps to an end of the vegetable garden 
devoted to flowers, before the eyes may feast upon them, or a few 
blossoms may be gathered for the dinner table, immeasurable 
pleasure is lost, as well as a decorative adjunct to the house. What 
would the little cottages of England look like without the gay 
gardens around every doorstep ? How much a well composed 
garden may add to the beauty of the house itself by extending 
lines that end too abruptly, by softening sharp angles, by broad- 
ening the effect of a house that is too high for its width with masses 
of shrubbery or hedges on its sides, by nestling around a house on a 
hill top, or by reconciling another to a plain ! The house and garden 
should seem to be inseparable complements each of the other. 
It is conceivable, however, that not every desirable building 
site would permit a garden near the dwelling, that is, not a garden 
of definite boundaries. A cottage perched on a cliff overhanging 
the sea, for example, could not have flower beds and specimen 
trees and shrubs on the rocky ledges, nor would they be desirable; 
but the storm-resisting native pines and hardy stunted shrubbery — 
bayberry, barberries, St. John's wort and broom — would grow 
there and perfectly fit the landscape. A tide of flowers might 
surge around the rocky base of the promontory, and some flotsam 
and jetsam of bloom, like the sand-loving portulacca and sea-pinks, 
extend almost to the waves. Where nature left off and art began 
it would be impossible for any one but the maker of that garden 
to say. Every region has its own wealth of native plants which 
should be drawn from much more freely than it is. The laurel was 
quite without honour in its own country until after it had become 
a favourite in Europe, thanks to its introduction by Peter Kalm, 
when we could actually import it from" European nurseries more 
conveniently than we could dig it from the woods at home. 

28 The American Flower Garden 

A garden is no less a garden because it defies all limitations 
and conventions. And the artistic spirit likewise refuses to be 
bound by the fads and fancies of the gardener's craft. Art out- 
of-doors is universal, like nature herself, and knows no predilection 
for Italian gardens above wild gardens, for informal or naturalistic 
ones rather than for the prim, box-edged flower beds of our 
grandmothers, for the water garden in the humid East above the 
cactus garden of the desert. Fitness and beauty suffice. Happily 
every garden site is a law unto itself to which the gardener must 
submit. No two gardens, no two human faces, were ever alike. 
Both have individuality as their chief charm. 

But it is generally conceded that every garden picture is 
improved by a frame. The sea, a wood, a tree-girt lawn, a lake, 
a hedge, a wall, a court yard, a pergola, a terrace, a hillside, or 
the house itself, any or several of these, and some other boundaries, 
natural and artificial, may set off the garden's own peculiar beauty 
to the best advantage. The needs of plants are so various that 
their loveliness can best be shown in a variety of situations and 


''From the intimate union of art and nature, of architecture and landscape, 
will be born the best gardening compositions which Time, purifying public taste, 
now promises to bring us." — Edouard Andk£. 



SINCE orthodoxy was ever "my doxy," it need surprise no 
one but the merest tyro in gardening to learn that this, 
the most peaceful of the arts, has the greater part of its 
devotees divided into two bitterly hostile camps. The "spirit of 
sect," so heartily deplored by Turgot in matters of politics and 
religion, is rife even in their midst, and there would seem to be no 
more likelihood of a truce between them now than in the days when 
the affected, complacent Addison made admirable copy in the 
Spectator, and Pope, that most artificial of jingling rhymesters, 
amused his generation by poking fun at formal gardens generally, 
and not alone at the errors which undoubtedly disfigured much of 
the "Italian" gardening in the England of his time. Pope, while 
he professed to abhor hedges, pleached walks and statuary in 
gardens, and to adore nature unadorned, nevertheless went on 
piling up rocks and shells into grottos at Twickenham, making 
cascades, bridges, miniature torrents and wild, mountainous im- 
possibilities in a pastoral landscape until he had, in much condensed, 
compendium form, a sample of every kind of scenery his fertile 
brain could conjure, and all within five acres. 

These two literary men, Addison and Pope, with not a little help 
from Walpole, neither artists nor yet gardeners, who knew not 
what they were undoing, must be held largely responsible for bring- 
ing about the radical reaction in garden methods which swept 
away with axe, plough and grubbing hoe most of the tree-lined 
avenues like cathedral aisles, the ancient evergreen hedges, the 


32 The American Flower Garden 

broad terraces and box-edged parterres that had been the glory 
of the old English estates, influenced by the Renaissance. The 
saying that nature abhors a straight line was construed to war- 
rant the destruction of every line of oaks and elms, every direct 
road and path on English country places. People professed to 
travel cheerfully, in the name of reform, twice the distance in 
meaningless serpentine twists and turns to reach either their en- 
trance gate or the kitchen garden. The planting of trees and 
shrubbery was supposed to be ridiculous if wild nature were not 
copied literally. Hence the logical step was presently taken of 
setting out an occasional dead tree in English parks. Devotees 
of the so-called natural school went so far as to refuse to clip their 
lawns — those wonderful velvet lawns which are the very heart of 
the English garden. Quite as many crimes were committed in 
the name of nature by the unintelligent followers of Repton and 
"Capability" Brown as had been done in the name of art by the 
formal gardeners who had reached the baroque period of decadence 
before Addison's day. 

For the novice who turns for inspiration to Robinson's "The 
English Flower Garden," one of the most delightfully infectious 
books on gardening ever written, is to be taught that the formal 
garden is most unlovely and absurd. Robinson is an enthusiastic 
horticulturist who simply cannot see the architectural point of 
view. On the other hand, let the novice take up Blomfield's 
"The Formal Garden," or Bedding's exquisitely written "Garden 
Craft," and he will get the notion that the naturalistic method of 
making a garden or treating a landscape is unworthy to be 
called an art at all. 

"The question at issue is a very simple one," says Blomfield, 
who is Robinson's special bete noire. " Is the garden to be considered 

The Formal Garden 33 

in relation to the house, and as an integral part of a design which 
depends for its success on the combined effect of house and garden ; 
or is the house to be ignored in dealing with the garden as a part of 
nature ? The latter is the position of the landscape gardener in 
real fact. There is some affectation in his treatises of recognising 
the relationship between the two, but his actual practice shows 
that this admission is only borrowed from the formal school to 
save appearances, and is out of court in a method which systemat- 
ically dispenses with any kind of system whatever." 

And so the battle of words comes down to the present day in 
England, from whence our training in garden tactics has been 
largely derived. Not until quite lately have we had any garden 
literature of our own, and even now England continues to supply 
most of the text books. To the dispassionate observer it is quite 
plain that ammunition for both sides of the conflict has been 
gathered, not from the best examples of the formal or the natural- 
istic school of gardening, but from the poorest examples of the 
other's work that the partisan devotees of each could find. 

Where did the formal garden originate? Wherein lies the 
magic that draws men to it in every age ? 

Maspero, in his " Dawn of Civilisation," tells of an Egyptian 
nobleman who lived over four thousand years before Christ, whose 
splendid fruit, vegetable and flower garden, formally laid out, 
was described upon his tomb. When various forms of art spread 
from Egypt to other lands, no doubt the art of gardening was 
widely copied. Even the sea-roving Phoenicians had fine gardens, 
and we feel sure that the famous hanging gardens of Babylon, 
from the very nature of their site, could have been nothing but 
formal. Greek gardens, which, like the Egyptian, were a com- 
bination of the utilitarian and the decorative, were laid out with 

34 The American Flower Garden 

cold precision, purely in keeping with the classic severity of the 
architecture they surrounded. They must have been too severely 
formal to be enjoyed and lived in as the Romans enjoyed and 
lived in theirs, which they, in turn, derived from the Greeks. 

On the Roman and Alban hillsides, where the patricians had 
their villas, the terrace, which was cut at first as a necessity to 
prevent wash-outs on the steep slopes, was soon cleverly utilised as 
a pictorial feature. A terraced hill, of course, necessitated steps 
and balustrades for convenience and safety, because the Romans, 
who lived much out of doors, entered their homes through their 
gardens. Pliny, in his letters, describes two of his villas, but so 
far no antiquarian has been able to identify them with the remains 
of any that are now known. In the house of the Vettii at Pompeii 
we may see to-day a delightful little garden in the central court, 
faultlessly restored, where every room of the house opens upon 
it. The inmates of that home, whose bodies have been dust for 
nearly nineteen centuries, heard these very fountains splash their 
refreshing waters among the flowers. How near us does that 
little garden bring the everyday life of Pompeii! 

With the delightful use of gardens as outdoor living-rooms, the 
utilitarian features — vegetable patches, fruit trees, and vineyards 
— were banished either to a distant part of the Roman's estate or 
to an outlying farm, and the garden now came to be recognised as 
an adjunct to the house, partly architectural and wholly decorative. 
Accordingly, no pains were spared to make it so. The same prin- 
ciples of design which governed the house were extended to the 
grounds immediately surrounding it, and there they left off abruptly. 
Such weather-proof embellishments as the Roman patrician, con- 
noisseur, and collector had inside his dwelling — beautiful statuary, 
sculptured seats and vases of marble — were taken to his open-air 

The Formal Garden 35 

living-room for their greater enjoyment. Can we doubt that their 
chaste beauty was less appreciated when set on balustrades and 
terraces against the dark background of olive, ilex, and cypress ? 

But with the growth of luxury in the Empire decadence began ; 
the topiary gardener did his worst, and innocent trees, frivolously 
clipped into the forms of impossible birds and beasts, with much 
else that was absurdly artificial, marked the decline of, art in the 
Roman's once simple and dignified pleasure ground. After the 
fall of Rome, when the darkness of the Middle Ages settled down 
over Europe, gardening, with all her sister arts of peace, slumbered 
for centuries. The mediaeval garden, where it existed at all, we 
learn from old, illuminated missals, was merely a monastery's 
patch of "simples" or vegetables tended by a monk, or an enclos- 
ure within the castle's precincts, where herbs grew around the 
well and fruit trees were espaliered against the walls. 

Inevitably, a great awakening would come to artistic Italy 
with the cessation of wars, holy and unholy, and the return of pros- 
perity to the land. In those days of marvellous artistic activity 
which we call the Renaissance, when men delved among the ar- 
chives of their Roman ancestors for inspiration in all the arts, the 
classic garden was rediscovered with acclaim. Restored in all 
its splendour throughout Italy, but given new breadth and free- 
dom of treatment at the hands of some of the greatest artists of 
all time, Michelangelo and Raphael among them, the Italian 
garden of Lorenzo de Medici's day has become synonymous in 
the artistic world with garden craft carried to its highest degree. 

Where lies the secret of its excellence ? Doubtless in the dis- 
covery of the landscape. Heretofore the garden had been regarded 
merely as a circumscribed architectural extension of the casde or 
villa, as rigidly formal as the walls of a room. But the master 

36 The American Flower Garden 

architect of the Renaissance, looking forth from the terraced hill- 
side to the distant view, realised that his art might be fused with 
nature in the making of a picture where the imagination would 
enjoy a freedom of expression hitherto unknown. He knew, none 
better, the importance of adapting the garden to the lines of the 
house it joined — so did the Egyptian, the Greek, and the Roman. 
He realised the importance of adapting the garden in every case 
to the uses to which it would be put, providing accessible, shady 
paths, sheltered resting places in the most lovely spots, fountains 
to refresh the dweller in that hot, dry climate, and cascades down 
the terraced hillsides from the overflow of the aqueducts, bowling 
greens on the tapis vert, parterres, plantations of roses and fruit 
orchards for the enjoyment of his patron's family — in the union 
of beauty with the practical he surpassed all his predecessors. But 
his genius lay first in discovering that the landscape lying beyond 
the house and garden should be the ultimate goal of his tributary 
art; and secondly, in seizing on the great and varied beauty of the 
Italian landscape, and fitting it into his design with an art which 
concealed itself. His scenic sense remains a marvel. 

Whether one studies the Villa Lante gardens at Bagnaia, 
the incomparably beautiful Villa d'Este at Tivoli, the superb 
old estates at Frascati, the sumptuous pleasure grounds of the 
prelates in Rome itself or the charmingly simple Colonna garden 
of flowers on a hill-top in the very heart of the city, one sees 
masterpieces of composition in the large and in detail, calculated 
to inspire a nation of painters. 

" I can't abide Italian gardens," a young architect once startled 
me by saying, for he had an uncommonly artistic eye. 

"Did you ever see one — a real one in Italy ?" I asked. 

"No, I have never been there," he frankly admitted. " I have 



The Formal Garden yj 

in mind only American 'Italian gardens,' I am afraid — geometric 
patterns patched on to the lawns of new estates, with little clipped 
trees set along the borders at exact intervals, and stiff, prim asters in 
rectangular beds, or a row of urns on a concrete balustrade with 
perhaps a few meaningless relics of Italian sculpture from some 
antique shop in New York, to make the garden convincing of its 

"Apropos, I must tell you a story," he went on. "Once I 
was dining in the house of some very rich people, -where the lady 
on my right insisted upon talking about her imposing earthly 
possessions. Her Italian garden, of the type I have described, 
she dwelt upon in detail, telling me how much the marble work had 
cost, how expensive the topiary effects were to keep up, and every 
other painful particular. At last, unable to endure her prattle 
about a sarcophagus she had decided to use as a garden seat, I 
surprised her by saying: 'My wife, too, has an Italian garden.' 
' Indeed ? ' she asked incredulously, knowing perfectly well that we 
live in a small suburban cottage. 'Yes,' I replied; 'it took two 
Italians three days to dig it.' Then she changed the subject." 

In translating the Italian garden cult to America, via England, 
France and Holland, and after long subjugation there, the fun- 
damental principles of the best formal garden making have been so 
far lost sight of in the great majority of cases that it has become 
well-nigh a travesty to call most of our meaningless imitations 
Italian gardens at all. It may be claimed that Italian ideals cannot 
be translated into our terms; that the garden magic of the Ren- 
aissance is dependent upon age, the peculiarity of the Italian climate 
and landscape, the wealth of deep-toned evergreens, the cheapness 
of labour, the social usages of an age of splendour, the Italian genius 
for artistic expression. 

38 The American Flower Garden 

Age undoubtedly enhances the beauty of a garden planned on 
noble lines, but it can completely obliterate the poorly planned 
one that is dependent upon constant care ; and after centuries the 
best Italian gardens have preserved their charm. Our summer 
skies are as blue as the Italian, and our spring and summer climate 
is not unlike that of Italy. We have our choice of a score of ever- 
greens and a hundred flowers for every one that was known to the 
garden designers of the sixteenth century. Pyramidal junipers and 
other columnar evergreens may be used in the Eastern United 
States, and the less hardy yews and cypresses in the South, as the 
tapering shafts of cypress were used in Italy; Lombardy poplars 
thrive here as well as there; retinisporas, magnolias, rhododen- 
drons, laurel, boxwood, bay, and a host of other possibilities are 
perfectly adapted to our needs. Certainly, there is no lack of wealth 
at the disposal of American home-makers, nor can it be spent in a 
better way to bring health and pleasure to a family than upon a 
garden. Many kinds of labour-saving devices, unknown in Europe 
three centuries ago, now help to lessen the expense of garden- 
making and maintenance. Fountains, sundials, garden seats, bal- 
ustrades, steps, and other garden accessories are by no means 
essential to a lovely garden, but if one wants them, and cannot 
afford stone or marble, excellent reproductions in a special prepa- 
ration of cement may be had at a small fraction of the cost of 
classic models. Thus a man of very moderate means may enjoy 
a duplicate of the fountain of lions at the Vatican; and the birds 
that come from the woods to his very door to bathe in the spray 
and drink from the basin, where goldfish play hide and seek under 
the lotus and lily leaves, show constant appreciation of his taste. 

It is painfully true that we Americans, like the English, are 
too Teutonic to be an artistic people. Yet here and there among 

The Formal Garden 39 

us arises an artist capable of making far more beautiful pictures 
on the landscape than he is the better content to paint on canvas ; 
and so the limitation of art by the artists themselves continues to 
be a fruitful source of our artistic poverty. Very few excellent 
models inspire the garden makers in this new land. For nearly 
a hundred years gardenjnaking went out of fashion. The worthy 
formal gardens here can be counted on the fingers of one hand. 
But art out-of-doors shows encouraging signs of waking from 
its long sleep, and the few really competent designers are meeting 
with refreshing encouragement at last. 

Perhaps it would be as futile as it is undesirable to servilely 
copy even the best Renaissance gardens, nevertheless we may, with 
the greatest profit, learn from them how a house and garden may 
become an integral part of the landscape, whether it be situated 
in Italy, New England, Illinois, or California, for happily the 
principles of their making are of universal application. What 
we chiefly need is the informing spirit; with it alone shall we learn 
how to meet our problems as successfully as the Italians met theirs. 
Even in Italy methods were necessarily adapted to various situa- 
tions. The Roman's pleasaunce, overlooking the broad Campagna, 
was given a majestic breadth and simplicity of treatment in har- 
mony with its environment, whereas, farther north, where the land- 
scape is less imposing, compensations were offered in the wealth 
of garden details. The designer invariably took the cue for treat- 
ment of a place from the adjoining landscape. So must we learn 
of him. 

A room that is not lived in never possesses the charm of one 
that is, however correctly furnished it may be. And so our gar- 
dens will never be what they might easily become until we make 
of them outdoor living-rooms after the good Old World custom. 

4° The American Flower Garden 

Piazzas, pleasant as they are, have doubtless retarded the adoption 
of the custom here; so has the tendency to do away with walls, tall 
hedges, and screen planting, so exposing to the gaze of every 
passer-by the intimate family life spent under the open sky. 

The Renaissance garden maker planned the hedged-in, vine- 
clad, walled enclosures, sheltered from the winds and sun, for the 
family's comfort and convenience, as carefully as he did the rooms 
of the dwelling. Broad paths through pergolas, arbours or wooded 
alleys led from one subdivision of the garden to another, and so, by 
easy and almost imperceptible transition, the formal lines nearest 
the house flowed more freely and more informally into the natural- 
istic the farther one walked away from the house, until the stroll 
brought one out face to face with nature herself. Here was 
infinite variety in perfect unity. No "method" was despised by 
the artist designer to gain the end desired. The terraces, the 
stone work, the fountains, the sundial, the ilex walks, the parterres, 
the bowling green, the open sunny spaces, the shaded retreats, 
the rushing cascades down the hillsides, the mirror-like pools, the 
groups of trees, the converging lines of a straight-hedged path, the 
irresistible invitation of a disappearing curved one, the distant 
vista alluring the eye to the beauty of a distant panorama — all 
had a deeper harmony underlying them than the uninitiated 
observer could suspect. A glance at one of the old garden plans 
astonishes one. The design drawn on paper shows a rigid for- 
mality, perfect balance and intricacy of line comparable to Chinese 
fretwork. The finished garden seems to be a naturally perfect 
picture wherein the design is frequently lost to sight, and one is 
conscious only of harmony on every hand. Another matter for 
astonishment to the American is that the beauty of a Renaissance 
garden may be entirely independent of flowers. These were 

The Formal Garden 41 

used lavishly in many gardens, it is true, while in others they were 
scarcely necessary at all, and were added, as Corot might have 
added a touch of colour to one of his landscapes, which, even without 
the pleasing detail, would form a well-nigh faultless composition. 

Our simple democratic society has no need of imitating the 
great gardens of Italy, where Church and State vied with each other 
in the splendour of their open-air functions, or the excessively formal 
pleasure grounds of the French court to which Le Notre devoted his 
genius; but it is a mistake to assume that the formal garden may 
not serve our day and generation. What are the "old-fashioned" 
gardens around our Colonial homesteads, with their box-edged 
parterres and vine-covered arbours but an evidence of the Italian 
fashion in vogue in England, France, and Holland when our fore- 
fathers first came to these shores ? We feel no prejudice against 
our grandmothers' formal gardens — quite the reverse — but that 
there is a decided modern prejudice against the formal treatment 
for anything but the large estates of the newly rich Americans 
one cannot deny. Our Teutonic blood prejudices us, as a people, 
toward a more general love for nature than for art; our training, 
derived from English text books, inclines us toward the naturalistic 
method; and our ignorance of the best examples of the formal 
school, which may scarcely be found outside of Italy, might easily 
account for the scorn which Americans generally feel for formal 

The refreshing truth is that nowhere so well as on a small place, 
where the house is the dominating object in the home picture, 
is the formal or architectural treatment of the grounds so well 
adapted. How much of the charm of the simple, dignified Colonial 
house, on the elm-lined village street in New England was due to 
the box-hedged path leading directly from the front gate to the 

42 The American Flower Garden 

front door, and the neat, trim parterres filled with flowers and 
herbs conveniently near, which preserved harmony in the yard of 
the perfectly balanced dwelling! In its modest way it was as 
satisfying an artistic composition as the Villa Medici, for our 
"Colonial" architecture, adapted after Palladio, and "Colonial" 
gardening were twin children of the Renaissance. 


"Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found 
And all Elysium in a plot of ground." — Dryden. 

"The art of gardening has its root in man's enthusiasm for the woodland 
world. See how closely the people of old days must have observed the sylvan 
sights of nature, the embroidery of the meadows, the livery of the woods at dif- 
ferent seasons, or they would not have been capable of building up that piece of 
hoarded loveliness, the old-fashioned English garden" — John D. Sedding. 



VOLUNTARY exiles in a wild land, whether for con- 
science's sake, like the Puritans and Huguenots, or for 
the bettering of their earthly fortunes, like the Virgin- 
ians and the Dutch, all the early colonists seem to have brought 
with them the love of gardens so characteristic of the people of the 
Old World. Little packages of seed must have been tucked away 
among the few indispensables brought over by the Pilgrims in 
the hold of the Mayflower. 

It is good to think of the homesick, lonely and overworked 
women on the stern New England coast comforting themselves 
with patches of herbs and flowers. The latter might have been 
concessions to sentiment, but surely simples were a necessity in 
a primitive settlement where the good wife had to rely solely upon 
them in concocting doses for every ill that flesh is heir to. She 
felt compelled to keep an apothecary shop in her own door yard 
and follow George Herbert's quaint advice to impecunious parsons: 
"Know what herbs may be used instead of drugs of the same 
nature . . . for household medicines are both more easy for 
the parson's purse, and more familiar for all men's bodies. . . . 
As for spices, he doth not only prefer home-bred things before 
them, but condemns them for vanities, and so shuts them out of 
his family, esteeming that there is no spice comparable for herbs 
to Rosemary, Thyme and savory Mints, and for seeds to Fennel 
and Caraway. Accordingly, for salves, his wife seeks not the 
city but prefers her gardens and fields before all outlandish gums." 


46 The American Flower Garden 

At this late day one can but pity the writhing children into 
whom copious draughts of bitter, nauseous teas were poured 
every time they took cold, while a paternal hand, as relentless as 
that of Fate, held their little noses until the last drop was gulped 
down. Boneset, chamomile and tansy tea, well steeped, were 
perennial agonies to children of Colonial days. Onion syrup 
and "stewed Quaker," for hoarseness and sore throat, "Saffern" 
tea for biliousness, sarsaparilla for spring fever, basil to clear the 
wits — these were among the "potent medicines" so highly 
esteemed by Cotton Mather and his contemporaries, and still 
implicitly relied on by not a few old women in New England 
villages. Tansy must have come over the sea with some of the 
earliest settlers, for it had escaped from the gardens throughout 
the colonies and run wild down the lanes very commonly when 
Peter Kalm, the Swedish botanist, found it naturalised here in 
1748; and by the roadsides leading to old homesteads we still 
find the shining yellow "bitter buttons," now reckoned as an 
American wild flower. The ox-eye daisy, which whitens our 
fields, was also imported for its alleged medicinal virtues. Scores 
of new plants were added to that parterre of Nature's garden we 
are pleased to call "ours" when runaways from our ancestors' 
garden patches reverted to wild ways in this free country. The 
hay used in packing the colonists' china and other fragile importa- 
tions, contained seeds of weeds and wild flowers that now over- 
run the farmer's fields. Plantain is sometimes called "the English- 
man's foot." 

To add zest to the monotonous bill of fare, the Colonial house- 
keeper occasionally depended upon the garden at her door. Sage 
and thyme for the dressing of fowls and home-made sausage, mint 
for the lamb from the home flock, caraway for the "seed cakes" 

The Old- Fashioned Garden 47 

that were made for the parson's coming to tea, must have been 
grown in every garden patch. Dried bunches of herbs for kitchen 
use as well as for dosing the family or an ailing neighbour, hung 
from the rafters in every well regulated attic during the long 
New England winters. It was considered not indecorous to chew 
medicinal herbs in church. 

But we like to remember that the beautiful as well as the 
utilitarian had a place in the gardens of those hard times that tried 
men's souls: that hollyhocks stood like cheerful sentinels beside 
the cabin door in the Plymouth Plantation and Massachusetts 
Bay Colony; that roses looked in at the windows — probably 
the sweet brier or eglantine and the striped York and Lancaster 
roses brought from England; that gilly flowers, "fetherfew" and 
honesty, with its mother-of-pearl seed vessels for the winter bou- 
quet, grew freely among the comfortable variety of simples, vege- 
tables and pot herbs which the gossiping Josselyn found about 
the homes of the Puritans in 1672 when he published "New England 
Rarities Discovered." Doubtless most of the "pleasant flowers 
which English ayre will permit to be noursed up," as Parkinson 
quaintly puts it, were tested in American gardens: his favourite 
"daffodils, fertillaries, jacinthes, saffron flowers, lilies, flower- 
deluces, tulipas, anemones, French cowslips or bearseares, and 
such other flowers, very beautifull, delightfull and pleasant." 

Not until considerable wealth had accumulated in the Northern 
Colonies and life had become a less severe struggle, were the New 
England gardens formally laid out in keeping with the modified 
classic architecture of the finer houses — a style we speak of as 
Colonial, but which is known in England only as Georgian. Such 
gardens followed the fashion then in vogue in England, France, 
and Holland, which was but a modification, in each country, of 

48 The American Flower Garden 

the Italian method. Reduced to a small scale, in keeping with 
the simple living of frugal-minded Colonials, the classic garden 
here was but a contraction of the elaborate design of some European 
estate into the space of a small door-yard. It is said that the 
original Longfellow garden was laid out after Le Notre's designs for 
the parterres at Versailles. How much of the enduring charm of 
old Concord, Cambridge, Portsmouth, Hartford, Fairfield, New- 
port, and Kingston, among scores of other New England towns, 
was due to their broad straight street in the centre of the original 
village with the formal planting of trees on either side — a single 
or a double row of arching elms or maples! 

In the good old days, when every busy housekeeper worked 
awhile among her flowers each day, and, without consciousness of 
cravings for capitalised Art, nevertheless achieved as much, per- 
haps, toward that end as her modern sisters who spend the summer 
on hotel piazzas embroidering sofa pillows or painting alleged 
decorations on china, the garden was necessarily close to the house 
— usually in front of it, next to the village street. Time to work 
in the garden had to be snatched from multitudinous household 
duties, for the care of the flowers almost invariably devolved 
upon the women of the family who most loved them. Little 
wonder that the hardy perennials or annuals that sow their own 
seed — plants that very nearly take care of themselves — were 
the prime favourites in the old-time gardens: fragrant rose peonies, 
sweet Williams, spicy little fringed pinks, flaming poppies, spires 
of blue larkspur, foxgloves, deliciously scented valerian, 
fraxinella with its penetrating, aromatic perfume, periwinkle, 
hollyhocks, pansies, Lancaster and York and damask roses, and 
Canterbury bells. Increased numbers of these popular favourites 
might be relied upon to come up year after year until the weeds 

The Old-Fashioned Garden 49 

themselves were fairly crowded out. The story goes that the 
first lilacs seen in New England were imported by that gay young 
scapegrace, Sir Harry Frankland, for Agnes Surriage's garden. 

Not the least recommendation of the cleanly, aromatic box- 
wood that was almost universally used for flower bed borders, 
was the excellent place for bleaching homespun linen afforded 
by its flat trimmed top. Bricks set in herring bone pattern along 
the box-edged paths, or pebbles when the garden was near the 
sea, helped to clean the boots before a foot passed the threshold 
of the Puritan housewife's spotless dwelling. 

Although every man of consequence in New England, includ- 
ing Governors Endicott and Winthrop, raised and sold fruit trees 
and plants, comparatively few varieties of flowers were found in 
the gardens before the Revolution. No one ventured into an 
exclusive nursery business where neighbourly women had the 
pleasant custom of exchanging slips of favourite plants, and letters 
from friends in England usually contained seeds that were doubly 
welcome, in that they revived cherished memories of the old home. 
Probably the first commercial nursery was established by Robert 
Prince, at Flushing, Long Island, about 1730, and for over a 
century it remained the most prominent one in America. Cater- 
ing to the French Huguenots settled there, who were devoted horti- 
culturists, it brought together the choicest trees, shrubs, and 
plants from abroad, including Chinese magnolias and the cedar 
of Lebanon. Probably more beautiful stock has gone forth from 
the various nurseries at Flushing than from any other single spot 
in our land. 

But long before the establishment of any nurseries, the Dutch 
gardens had become famously fine. Ships of the Dutch East 
India Company brought floral treasures from the ends of the earth. 

50 The American Flower Garden 

Governor Peter Stuyvesant, who had a large farm on the "Bou- 
werie" and a garden about his mansion, White Hall, at the Bat- 
tery, kept forty slaves at work on his grounds, which apparently 
contained a greater variety of foreign and native trees, shrubs, and 
flowers than any other estate in old New Amsterdam. Such an 
estate was, of course, the rarest exception. The Colonists as a 
rule were poor, hard-working people and their own flower gardeners. 
When Manhattan contained barely a thousand inhabitants, Adrian 
Van der Donck observed: "The flowers in general, which the 
Netherlanders have introduced, are the red and white roses of 
different kinds, the cornelian roses and stock roses, and those of 
which there were none before in the country, such as eglantine, 
several kinds of gilly flowers, jenoffelins, different varieties of fine 
tulips, crown imperials, white lilies, the lily fritilaria, anemones, 
baredames, violets, marigolds, summer sots, etc. The clove tree 
has also been introduced, and there are various indigenous trees 
that have handsome flowers which are unknown in the Nether- 
lands. We also find there are some flowers of native growth, as 
for instance, sun flowers, red and yellow lilies, mountain lilies, 
morning stars, red, white and yellow maritoffles (a very sweet 
flower), several species of bell flowers, etc., to which I have not 
given particular attention, but amateurs would hold them in high 
estimation and make them widely known." Gay gardens, these, 
of the Dutch vrouws ! Either some of their old favourites are lost 
forever or they masquerade under new names on modern nursery 
lists, which, bewilderingly long as they are, mention no jenoffe- 
lins, alas, nor baredames, nor maritoffles. 

The thrifty Dutch particularly favoured sunken gardens 
three or four feet below the level of the lawn and enclosed by a 
brick wall that served as a wind-break. Vegetables so protected 

The Old-Fashioned Garden 51 

matured earlier than in the wind-swept open; flowers blossomed 
there in greater perfection as the soil held the moisture drained 
from surrounding land; and the large area of sun-baked brick 
wall, against which fruit trees and vines were espaliered, forced 
the pears, peaches, plums and grapes to yield earlier fruit of extra 
sweetness. But while the great advantage of a sunken garden 
in flat, windy Holland was quite apparent, the expense of its 
making was not so easily justified here, and it gradually disappeared. 

With the rapid growth of strenuous, commercial, New Amster- 
dam, the quaint, formal Dutch gardens of intricate patterns out- 
lined with box gave place to warehouses along the river banks, 
where comfortable homes had lately stood, to shops and residences 
crowded into solid rows. Even at Albany, where wealth and good 
living blossomed forth in the usual Dutch manner, not many old 
gardens now remain. But at Croton-on-the-Hudson, the Van 
Cortlandt Manor, built in 1681, still shows what a fine homestead 
was like when the Empire State was a Dutch province. Descend- 
ants of the original owners have lived in the dignified, comfortable 
old house continuously, The present mistress delights in keeping 
up the formal flower beds of the upper garden and the long, straight 
flower-bordered walk where the happy children of nine generations 
have raced and played, in preserving the noble trees, the velvety 
turf, the lovely old-fashioned shrubs, just as they were in her great- 
great-grandfather's time. How rarely indeed can such a home 
be found anywhere among our restless, roving people ! Sentiment 
in a garden is the finest flower that grows there, after all. 

Generously comfortable living, which the most orthodox of 
Friends did not pretend to despise, showed itself nowhere more 
than in well-stocked gardens. William Penn, who imported for 
his followers fruits, vegetables and flowers from the Old World, 

52 The American Flower Garden 

encouraged the trial of many native to the New. Around about 
Philadelphia there are still extant a few lovely old flower gardens, 
their circles, triangles and parallelograms filled with gay flowers 
and box-bordered with scarcely an exception. These, apart from 
the kitchen garden, testify to "the pride of life" so innocently 
fostered by the Friends. At the time of the Revolution there 
were, perhaps, no finer gardens in the Colonies than were main- 
tained by these worthies. Doubtless they felt the influence of 
John Bartram, the zealous Quaker botanist, who established in 
1728 the first botanic garden in America, and both through his 
travels in this country and exchanges with foreign horticulturists 
introduced to the Philadelphians, first of all, the treasures of 
his quest. 

In a country that then contained few homes more imposing 
than an Indian wigwam, a few English settlers along the James 
River established estates of enduring beauty — immense tracts 
of fertile, well cultivated land with a stately house and garden on 
the water front within calling distance of the private pier. Ship- 
loads of brick to build the house and outbuildings, exquisitely 
carved columns, pilasters, wainscots, mantels, panels, fan-lights 
and pediments, paintings, silver, dainty china, rich furniture, the 
latest fashions in clothes, old wine, and every table luxury came 
to the very doors straight from England. Although nature did 
so much to adorn these Virginia estates, their luxurious owners 
laid out convenient gardens, such as they had been accustomed 
to in the Mother Country, and humoured their wives and 
daughters' fancy by importing quantities of plants when the ships 
that had carried tobacco to London, came back home. But 
throughout the South during Colonial days, gardens, like books, 
among the common people, were so rare as to be almost unknown. 


































The Old-Fashioned Garden 53 

They seem to have been considered a luxury for a few aristocrats 
only. The intelligence, wealth, and luxurious living ascribed to 
the Southern Colonies in the early days have been greatly exagger- 
ated by our imaginative novelists. 

One may never rightly judge a man, perhaps, until he has 
seen his home. How one's admiration for George Washington 
is increased by a visit to Mount Vernon! Fresh respect for the 
dignity and simple grandeur of his life comes with an exploration 
of the place by the most casual observer. A stroll through the 
lovely garden and cool bosquets, still affectionately, reverently 
tended, brings one nearer to the man and the gentle mistress of 
his home, than any amount of reading could ever do, nearer, 
somehow than the house itself, which they did not build; for the 
very trees that shaded them, the hedges too, that they set out, the 
boxwood borders of the paths they walked through, among the 
parterres of intricate patterns which they filled with their favourite 
flowers (whose lineal descendants flourish there to-day), are still 
alive — the living expressions of George and Martha Washington's 

Although there were many other Colonial gardens in Virginia, 
Maryland, and the Carolinas, whose charms have not been wholly 
obliterated by time nor the ravages of war, let us take the well- 
preserved, familiar Mount Vernon garden, as fairly representative 
of the Colonist's pleasaunce, to note wherein the American type 
differs from the formal garden in vogue in Europe during the 
eighteenth century. On this side of the Atlantic the terrace 
practically disappeared with the retaining walls, steps, balus- 
trades and other expensive architectural features which hereto- 
fore had been thought necessary accompaniments of the Italian 
style. American gardens were, therefore, laid out on flat spaces, 

54 The American Flower Garden 

instead of on hillsides, as in Italy, or on artificial embankments, 
as in Prance and England, or in sunken enclosures, as in Holland. 
In the absence of topiary experts here to trim specimen evergreens 
and hedges into the startling forms abhorred by Pope, reliance 
for decorative effect happily came to be placed almost entirely 
upon flowers. The hedge, which usually took the place of an 
enclosing wall, was never very severely pruned, although the indis- 
pensable boxwood borders for the parterres within the enclosure 
were kept as neatly trimmed here as in the Old World. The 
broadest garden paths were not very wide; the narrowest ones 
allowed space for only one person. It was not considered good 
designing, or planting, for any path to be seen except the one 
that the observer was standing on. Hence the garden patterns 
were often as intricate as a maze; or, if the design were simple, 
tall growing flowers in the parterres might be relied on to conceal 
the opposite paths. 

To the modern American the word alley has every unpleasant 
association, but what delight his English forebears took in their 
fragrant shady walks through leafy tunnels, the lovers of Eliza- 
bethan literature well known. A path that was "quite over- 
canopied with luscious woodbine" in Shakespeare's day still fills 
the printed page with its fragrance. Lord Bacon, in his oft quoted 
essay "Of Gardens," after enumerating "the flowers and plants 
that do best perfume the air," adds: "But those which perfume 
most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden 
upon and crushed are three: that is, Burnet, Wild Thyme, and 
Water-Mints. Therefore you are to set out whole alleys of them 
to have the pleasure when you walk or tread." 

These charming green alleyways, frequently paved or bordered 
with fragrant herbs, were familiar to every well born French and 

The Old-Fashioned Garden 55 

English Colonist in his old home, but life on an unsubdued continent 
was much too work-a-day for such refinements except on a few 
estates of the wealthy. Pleached (braided) alleys were, however, 
attempted here with various trees — with holly, which promptly 
failed, then with apple and pear trees and cedars, which succeeded. 
By planting two rows of young trees opposite each other on either 
side of a path, bending the tops toward the centre and interlacing 
the branches where they met overhead, a series of symmetrical 
arches was formed on artificial supports at the outset. After a few 
years of pruning and interweaving the arches united into a leafy 
tunnel-shaped network. How deliciously cool were these verdant, 
pleached alleys on a hot day! Little wonder that they were an 
almost indispensable feature in the gardens of sunny Italy. 

But vine-covered latticed arbours required less time to make 
and care for, and the hard worked, practical Colonist perceived 
that he might shade a walk by growing grapes over it. Beauty 
came to mean less and less for its own sake, without an ultimate 
utilitarian purpose, the farther time removed him and his wife 
from the culture of the Old World. However, the pleached walk 
was too beautiful a garden feature to become extinct. On the Lee 
estate, at Brookline, there is an alley of hornbeam trees, two hun- 
dred feet long and twelve feet wide. Another, on the Lorrillard 
place, at Tuxedo, is made of Judas trees, whose slender 
branches are etched by the sunlight in a delicate tracery on 
the path below. 

Although formal in character, the Colonial garden was not 
always perfectly regular, yet any departure from a balanced, 
symmetrical plan was the exception rather than the rule. Never- 
theless, when the garden overflowed with flowers, all outlines be- 
came softened and subdued, if not obliterated. Only an underlying 

56 The American Flower Garden 

formality, however, would have produced the harmonious effect 
of the whole. 

The favourite design in the Colonies North and South, was 
a great wheel with a fountain, a sundial or a bushy boxwood 
specimen in the centre of the circular garden where the hub 
should be, and radiating paths, like spokes, marking pff the 
box-bordered parterres, and a hedge encircling the whole like a 
tire. On a hilltop screened from public gaze, but in the very 
heart of Rome, may be found at the present day, just such a wheel 
filled with flowers reflected in the pool at the centre — the charm- 
ingly simple little Colonna garden, which might just as fittingly 
adjoin a Georgian house in the Colonies. Italian ideas of garden 
making had thoroughly permeated Europe when the Colonists 
began to "build stately" and to "garden finely" on this side of the 
sea; but it is France, not Italy, that receives the credit for the 
influence upon our garden designs. Le Notre's work was 
familiar to all intelligent men. L'Enfant's splendid design for 
laying out the nation's new capitol was one of Washington's 
cherished ideals frustrated by a parsimonious Congress, even to 
this day. To the Marquis de Geradin, Jefferson was indebted 
for much help in planning Monticello and the beautiful University 
of Virginia ; yet Italy had taught these Frenchmen, either directly 
or indirectly, all they knew. 

The Best Survivors of Old-Fashioned Garden Flowers 

Note. — The flowering time is given approximately for the neighbourhood of New 
York, and will be somewhat earlier or later to the South or North. 

Aster, China (Callistephus hortensis). Single, white and red introduced 
1731; blue, 1736; double red and blue, 1752; white 1753. More 
modern improvements of forms and colours than any other annual 
of the daisy family. Annual; July to September; ij feet. Does 
best when sown in the open. 

The Old-Fashioned Garden 57 

Bachelors' Buttons. A name applied to many small globose, double, 
button-like flowers, such as Cornflower, Ranunculus or Fair 
Maides of France, Globe Amaranth (which see). 

Balsam, Somerset, Somer-sots, Lady's Slipper {Impatiens balsamind). 
White, rose, red, and purplish. Double flowers from July to frost. 
Pods snap open and seeds turn somersaults before flying out. Favour- 
ite toy of children. Likes moist ground. Annual; 2 feet. Introduced 
from India. 

Bellflower. See Canterbury Bells below, and list of Herbaceous 

Bluebell. See Harebell. 

Candytuft {Iberis sempervirens). Best perennial candytuft for rockery 
or border; 6 to 8 inches; evergreen. White flowers in long 

racemes; clusters flattish at first. June. , Coloured (/. umbel- 

lata). Dark purple, purple, carmine, rose, lilac, flesh, and white. 

Flower clusters always remain flat. , Rocket (/. amara). 

White, like sweet alyssum, but not fragrant, and larger. Good for 
rockery or border. Common white candytuft. Clusters elongate 
in fruiting. 

Canterbury Bells, Bellflower {Campanula Medium). Oldest and 
most popular of all campanulas. Blue, violet, pink, or white bell- 
shaped flowers, one and one-half inches across. June; 2 to 2§ feet; 
biennial. Sow August to October in frames for flowers the next 

Carnations, Border (Dianthus Caryophyllus). Pink, white. August; 
I to 2 feet. Giant Marguerite blooms in twelve weeks from seed; 
Chabaud's Perpetual in six months, and will stand over winter, 
blooming next spring also. Give porous, gritty, well-drained soil. 

Catchfly, German {Lychnis Viscaria). Red flowers one-half inch 
across in opposite short-stalked clusters. Petals two-notched. 
Sticky patches beneath flowers said to catch ants. Tufted plant. 
Annual; 6 to 20 inches. 

Chrysanthemum, Annual {Chrysanthemum coronarium). Yellow. 
Gives yellow buttons one-half inch across from July to frost. Doubt- 
less what the Boston seedswoman of 1760 meant by "Chrysanthe- 
mum." White chrysanthemum listed in Boston, 1760, could hardly 
have been the perennial flower so common to-day. 

58 The American Flower Garden 

Cornflower, Ragged Sailor, Bachelors' Buttons {Centaurea 
Cyanus). Pure blue, singularly fringed trumpets, borne in thistle- 
like heads. In single varieties only. Also, white, pink, wine-col- 
oured, lilac, and purple. Annual; 2 feet. 

Crown Imperial (Fritillaria imperialis). Has a circle of pendant 
brown-red flowers each one and one-half inches long, topped by 
a tuft of leaves. Plant has onion-like odour. Put bulb six inches 
deep in rich soil having manure below that. Perennial; 3 feet. 

Daffodil {Narcissus Pseudo-Narcissus). Yellow. April, May; I^feet. 
The old trumpet daffodil, single or double Van Sion. Very effective 

when naturalised. , Queen Anne's Double (2V". Capax- 

plenus), pale yellow. The Jonquil is a round-leaved narcissus, 
1 foot high, with rich yellow flowers less than an inch across; 
extremely fragrant. 

Daisy, English (Bellis perennis). Pink and white. April, May. 
A rosette with flowers on three-inch stalks, making buttons about 
one inch across. This and the pansy best bedding plants April to 
May. After blooming in beds transplant for naturalising in moist, 
partially shaded spot. 

Dame's Rocket, Sweet Rocket (Hesperis matronalis). See Rocket. 

Day Lily, Lemon (Hemerocallis flava). Yellow trumpets, 4 inches 
long, borne in loose clusters on stems 4 feet high. Grass-like 
foliage, 3 to 4 feet long, arching. Divide clumps every four or 
five years. The lemon day lily is one of the oldest garden 
favourites, and has become naturalised in some places. Flowers 

in June; fragrant. , Orange (H. fulva), not fragrant; July, 

August; there is a double form of this. Both are absolutely hardy. 
(See also Plantain Lily.) 

Fair Maides of France, Fair Maides of Kent, White Bachelors' 
Buttons (Ranunculus aconitifolius). White buttons one inch 
across, freely produced in May, June; 6 inches to 3 feet. The yellow 
ranunculus, or buttercup, once grown in gardens, is now a naturalised 
wild flower; the double form is the yellow bachelors' buttons. 

Feverfew (Chrysanthemum Parthenium). White buttons about three- 
quarters of an inch across. Foliage yellow, with characteristic 
strong, bitter odour. Old favourite for edging. The single (wild) 
kind, like a small ox-eye daisy, was cultivated in old physic gardens. 

The Oid-Fashioned Garden 59 

, Golden Feather (C. prmaltum, var. aureum). Yellow- 
leaved kind used for edging, a closely related species. Perennial. 

Flower-de-Luce. See Iris. 

Forget-Me-Not (Myosotis alpestris). Small blue flowers in racemes. 
June and all summer; 6 inches. Better adapted for summer bloom 
than the common forget-me-not, being suited to a dry soil. Also 
summer bloomer, with longer flowers and fragrant in the evening. 

Four o'Clock, Marvel of Peru (Mirabilisjalapa). Tuberous, tender 
perennial; also grown as an annual. Bright shades of red, yellow, 
striped, and white; long-tubed, funnel-shaped flowers that open in 
cloudy weather, early morning and late afternoon. %\ feet high. 
Start indoors in March. 

Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea). Purplish pink, white. June; 3 to 4 
feet. Large, thimble-shaped flowers two inches long, in long spikes 
on long stems. Most refined white form is var. gloxini&flora alba. 
Splendid for bold effects. Biennial, but August-sown seeds will 

flower late the next year. , Yellow (D. ambigud). Yellowish 

flowers, 1 J inches long, spotted dark red inside. Ranks next to the 
common foxglove. 

Fraxinella. See Gas Plant. 

Fritillary, Snake's Head, Guinea-Hen Flower, Checker Lily 
(Fritillaria Meleagris). Tessellated green and purple nodding 
flowers, one inch across, borne singly on six-inch stems. May. 
Moist soil. 

Garden Heliotrope. See Valerian. 

Gas Plant, Fraxinella (Dictamnus albui). White, with pinkish 
purple variety. June; 2 feet. Whole plant lemon scented. Long 
lived. White variety prettier than rose-flowered, but less hardy. Will 
flash at dusk, on still summer eve, if a lighted match is brought near. 

Globe Amaranth (Gomphrena globosa). Everlasting; purple, pinkish, 
white, or golden buttons borne well above the bush. India 1714. 
Sometimes called Bachelors' Buttons. Annual; i§ feet or less. 

Harebell, Bluebell (Campanula rotundifolia). Dainty purple bells 
half an inch across, on slender stems 6 inches long. Blooms more 
or less all the season in a moist, loose, shady spot. Frequently 
escaped from cultivation and now reckoned a wild flower. The 

60 The American Flower Garden 

true bluebells of Scotland. Another " bluebell " that grows wild in 
British woods is Sc ilia festalis, or S. nutans, a sort of wood hyacinth. 

Heartsease. See Pansy. 

Hollyhock (Althcea rosea). Rose, pink, white, pale yellow, and 
madder purple. Single and double. On stalk 4 to 6 feet high. 
Individuals four inches across. Biennial, but makes offsets. Rich 
soil. One of the best tall herbaceous plants, but subject to disease. 
Spray with ammoniacal copper carbonate early in season. Sow in 
August in drills. 

Hyacinth (Hyacinthus orientalis). White, shades of blue, red, and 
pale creamy yellow; 9 inches. April. Buy the modern varieties, 
as they have entirely displaced the old ones which had fewer flowers 
to a stalk. Plant the bulbs in fall well before the frost, in raised 
beds and in masses of one colour. 

Hyacinth, Grape (Muscari botryoides). Dense heads of small blue 
flowers on stalks 4 to 6 inches long; April. Effective for window or 
shrubbery or in border. Hardy. Will endure shade after flowering 

Immortelle (Xeranthemum annuuni). Purple, yellow, white. Large 
daisy-like heads. Annual. July, August; 2 feet. Showy part is 
the stiff bracts; as cut flowers they last all winter. Sow outdoors 
in spring, or start in heat for flowers in early summer. 

Iris, Fleur-de-Lis, Flower-de-Luce (Iris hybrids). The so-called 
German irises are among the most showy and satisfactory plants 
of old gardens, having great range of colours from blue to white 
and yellow, with purple brownish fringes. 3 feet; May, June. 
Will grow in any average soil, the clumps extending by creeping 
rhizomes. When planting, be careful not to bury the rhizome 

more than one-half. , English (/. Anglica). Probably the 

oldest iris in cultivation. A bulbous kind; white, purple; June to 
July. Average rich soil moderately dry. Foliage appears in spring. 

Johnny-Jump-Up. See Pansy. 

Ladies' Delight. See Pansy. 

Larkspur (Delphinium grandiflorum, D. formosum, D. elatum). Deep 
indigo blue and lighter shades to white. In long spikes. Perennial. 
June, July; 2 to 5 feet. Attractive leaves on long stems. Blooms 
again in the fall if first flowers are cut. Best of blue flowers for 

The Old- Fashioned Garden 61 

border use. Improved varieties live only three or four years in 
America, being subject to blight. Dig dry Bordeaux about crowns 
or spray weekly with ammoniacal carbonate of copper. Modern 

hybrids great improvement over original stock. , Annual 

{D. Ajacis). Same colours. May to August; 2 feet. 

Lily, Annunciation, St. Joseph's (L. candidum). The oldest culti- 
vated of all the lilies; quite hardy. May, June; up to 6 feet, bearing 
spikes of pure white flowers, individually four to six inches across. 
Extremely fragrant. Bulbs must be planted in August, as growth 
begins immediately. In order to prevent soiling of the flowers by 
the pollen, pull off the anthers when the flower is half expanded. 

Will grow in any good garden soil that is not water-logged. , 

Blackberry, Leopard Flower (Belemcanda Chinensis). Orange 
spotted with red. June; 2 to 3 feet. Seeds like blackberries. 
Escaped from old gardens. Sandy loam in sunny place. Formerly 

used for winter bouquets with grasses and everlastings. , 

St. Bernard's {Anthericum Liliagd). Graceful raceme of ten 
to twenty white lily-like flowers, each one inch across. May, 
June; I foot. Has tuber-like rhizomes, and propagates by run- 
ners. Moist, partially shaded situation. Cover in winter. , 

St. Bruno's (Paradisea Liliastrum, Anthericum Liliastrum). 
White lily-like flowers, eight to ten on a stem. June; 1 to 2 feet. 
Taller than St. Bernard's lily, and has fewer, larger flowers. 
(See also Day Lily, Plantain Lily, etc.) 

Lily-of-the- Valley {Convallaria majalis). May; 9 inches. Fragrant, 
pendulous white bells, one-third of an inch across, in an arching 
raceme of utmost grace. Wants partial shade and deep, rich soil. 

London Pride, None-so-Pretty, St. Patrick's Cabbage (Saxifrage 
umbrosd). Evergreen edging plant, 4 inches high. White flowers 
in summer on foot-long stalks; one-half inch across, sometimes 
dotted red. Will thrive in cold shade of walls where few other 
things will live. Perennial. (See also Ragged Robin.) 

Love-in-a-Mist (JSfigella Damascena). Blue and white flowers followed 
by weird pods amid finely cut fennel-like foliage. Annual; June, 
July; 2 feet. 

Lupin, Hairy {Lupinus hirsutus). Purple, rose, white. July, August; 
3 feet. Largest flowered, self-coloured annual lupin in colours. 

62 The American Flower Garden 

A robust, hairy plant. "Large blue lupine," listed in Boston, 1760. 

, Yellow (Lupinus luteus). Yellow. June, July; 2 feet. Best 

lupin for garden bloom. Lupines have whorled cut leaves and pea- 
shaped flowers carried erect in grape-like clusters. Improves 
poorest soil. 

Maltese Cross {Lychnis Chalcedonicd). Scarlet flowers, the four 
petals with squared ends like a Maltese cross. An old-world 
favourite, possibly a hybrid of long ago. June; 2 to 3 feet; perennial. 
Also pink and white forms. 

Mignonette {Reseda odorata). Red, white and yellow, finely cut flowers 
borne in a dense spike, but otherwise not conspicuous. June to 
October; 9 inches. Egypt, 1752. Most popular flower grown solely 
for fragrance. Resents transplanting, and is subject to parsley worm. 

Mullein Pink, Rose Campion {Lychnis coronaria). Whitish, woolly 
foliage and glowing rose-crimson circular flowers one and one-half 
inches across, borne singly on ends of branches. I to %\ feet; 
biennial or perennial. Good for bedding. 

Myrtle {Vinca minor). Evergreen trailing vine with dark-green shiny 
leaves. Invaluable for covering the ground in shaded places where 
grass will not grow. Flowers of rich blue in summer, one inch across. 

Pansy, Heartsease, Johnny-Jump-Up, Ladies' Delight {Viola 
tricolor). The wonderful range of colours, the velvety texture of the 
dark ones, and the quantity of flowers make this a universal favourite. 
Self-coloured pansies would be anachronistic in a real Colonial 
garden. Gives scattering bloom in summer if sown in spring, but 
best flowers produced in spring from August-sown seed. Rich, 
moist soil. Keep flowers picked; they deteriorate if seed forms. 

Peony {Pceonia officinalis). The most showy, largest-flowered plant 
for the herbaceous garden. May and June; 3 feet high, bearing 

only one flower to a stem. Dark crimson. , {P. albiflora). 

From white through rose and magenta to crimson. June; z\ feet. 
Largest double-flowered hardy perennial. Favourite varieties: 
White, Alba Sulphurea, Duke of Wellington, Festiva Maxima; 
Blush, Delicatissima, Humei Carnea; Rose, Czarina; Crimson, 
Victoire Modeste Guerin. Shift peonies September to October. 
Divide every six years. Deep, rich, well-drained soil, with plenty 
of moisture. 

poet's narcissus naturalised along an open woodland walk, where they require 


The Old-Fashioned Garden 63 

Phlox, Perennial (P. pantculata). The brightest and most varied 
range of colours in any hardy perennial. Peculiarly appropriate, 
since it is a native. Now to be had in white, pink, scarlet, mauve, 
and various combinations. Thrives anywhere. Propagate by 
seed, cuttings, or division. Five feet or less according to will. 
Give water in summer. By cutting back can be made to 
flower any time. Miss Lingard, best modern white variety for 
general use. 

Pink, Chinese, Snow, or Star {Dianthus Chinensis). Prettiest 
annual variegated flowers of the pink family. Introduced about 
1713. Had been highly developed in the Far East. Seeds best 
started indoors in March. Excellent for edgings. Single or slightly 
double. A fragrant fringe along old garden paths. June; i foot. 

, Garden, Scotch, Grass, Pheasants' Eye (D. plumarius). 

Blooms in spring and early summer; I foot. Fragrant fringed flower, 
originally pink or purplish, the petals fringed for about one-fourth 
their length. Needs perfect drainage, and is likely to die in winter 

if grown on a level. , Fringed (J), superbus). Summer 

and early autumn; I foot. Petals lilac, fringed for more than 
half their length. Winter kills in rich soil. Prefers plenty of sand 

and grit. Easily raised from seed. , Maiden (D. deltoides). 

Small, one-half to three-quarters of an inch across, deep-red flowers, 
with notched petals and a dark crimson eye. Spring and early 
summer; i foot. Easiest of the small-flowered species of Dianthus 
for level-ground cultivation, forming a perfect mat. Does not suffer 
from wire worms. (See also Carnation.) 

Plantain Lily, White (Funkia subcordata). , Blue (F. ovata). 

Often erroneously confused with the day lily (Hemerocallis). July, 
August, September; 2 feet. Leaves broad, ribbed like the common 
plantain, but eighteen inches long. Begins growth early in the 
spring; multiplies freely, making large clusters, perfectly hardy. 
Will naturalise in moderately rich, partly shaded places. Variegated 
forms. Flowers four to six inches long in loose racemes carried 
well above the foliage. 

Poppy, Corn (Papaver Rhaas). Scarlet with black spot. Summer; i foot. 
Gorgeous weed that glorifies the grainfields of Europe. Parent 
of Shirley poppy. Sow where intended to flower; poppies will not 
generally bear transplanting. , Opivm (Papaversomniferum). 

64 The American Flower Garden 

White, dull purple, red, single and double, five inches across. 
Nodding buds. Glaucous foliage. A most gorgeous annual; 
3 feet. Allow one foot space to each plant. 
Pyrethrum {Chrysanthemum coccineum). Crimson, magenta, rose, 
white, daisy-like, single and double. June to July; 3 feet. Must 
have perfect drainage to avoid crown rot, especially in winter. If 
foliage rots in summer after heavy rains, cut some away. 

Ragged Robin, London Pride {Lychnis Flos-cuculi). Double red or 
rosy flowers, the petals cut in four strips. Perennial; blooming 
all summer; 1 to 2 feet. "Flos-cuculi" means cuckoo flower. 
Very common in old gardens and now naturalised. , Ever- 
blooming {L. Flos-cuculi, var. plenissimd). Has extraordinary 
number of flowers over exceptionally long season; lasts a long time 
when cut. 

Ragged Sailor. See Cornflower. 

Rocket, Sweet Rocket, Dame's Rocket {Hesperis matronalis). 
Magenta, mauve, or white. July; 3 feet. Long spikes of small 
four-petalled flowers which are most fragrant at evening. Select 
a plant with good lavender colour and propagate that, or plant the 
white kind. Double forms. Perennial. 

Rose Campion. See Mullein Pink. 

Rose of Heaven {Lychnis Cceli-rosa). Rosy flowers one inch across all 
summer. Petals slightly notched; eyed, fimbriated and white vari- 
eties also. Annual; 1 to i| feet. Very floriferous. Likes sun. 

Roses of various sorts generally referred to as "old-fashioned" or 
"garden." These include the hundred-leaved {Rosa centifolia), 
damask {R. Damascend), the Pink Daily and the Old Cabbage, 
and the York and Lancaster with flowers sometimes all red or all 
white, or parti-coloured ; also the Persian brier for its yellow flowers. 
All these do well anywhere, in good garden soil, flowering in June. 
The fragrant leaved sweetbrier or eglantine {R. rubiginosa) ekes 
out a struggling existence. It should be raised from seed sown 
in the fall. None of the all-summer bloomers having tea blood are 
admissible to the old-fashioned garden. 

Sweet William {Dianthus barbatus). One of the oldest garden flowers, 
and now run wild. Single and double. Flowers in dense, flat head, 
fragrant, various colours, chiefly red or reddish and white or pink. 

The Old-Fashioned Garden 65 

Grown from cuttings or seed, flowering the second year. July, 

August; 1 foot; Rich soil. 
Ten Weeks' Stock (Matthiola incana, var. annua). Clove-scented 

spikes of white, creamy, pinkish, or crimson flowers. Annual; i§ 

feet; May to July. Sow in rich, warm soil, and transplant. 
Tulip (Tulipa suaveolens). Parent of the small, early, and forcing 

Due Van Thol varieties, and was known in red and yellow. T. 

Gesneriana, the showy scarlet, later garden tulip, with pointed petals, 

also varieties of this type. Plant in masses of one colour in fall for 

spring flower. Shallow rooting annuals may occupy same bed at 

same time. 
Valerian, Garden Heliotrope (Valeriana officinalis). June; 3 feet. 
' Minute pinkish-gray flowers in flat clusters, three inches across. 

Very easy to grow. Spreads rapidly. Spicy odour scents a whole 

garden. Perennial. 
Veronica, Long-Leaved (Veronica longi folia). Minute lilac flowers in 

long, narrow spikes. July to September; 2 to 3 feet. Often sold as 

V. spicata. Its purple-blue variety, subsessilis (Japan, 1871), is the 

best of all hardy veronicas, and is more robust than the type. Can 

be used instead. 
Violet (Viola odorata). Violet. March; 6 inches. Only fragrant 

perennial of earliest spring. California is a large single variety. 

The Russian is double and hardier than common sorts. Get 

nursery-grown plants. Grow in the shade. 
Wallflower (Cheiranthus Cheiri). Yellow, red, brown, fragrant 

flowers, in spike six to twelve inches long. Biennial. Blooms all 

summer in partial shade if not allowed to seed; 2 feet. Must not 

dry out. 

Note. — For the greater part of the facts contained in the above list credit is due to 
Mr. Wilhelm Miller. 


"A dressed garden is Nature idealised — pastoral scenery put jancijully 
in man's way. A gardener is a master of what a French writer calls ' the charm- 
ing art of touching up the truth' " — John D. Seeding. 



WHEN we commit ourselves to any one style of 
gardening, how much beauty must be sacrificed 
to ignorance and prejudice! Devotees of the 
bedding system who delight in planting their initials in parti- 
coloured coleus on innocent lawns, or casting a hopeful anchor of 
"dusty miller," edged with clam shells, against a terrace like a 
railway embankment, must find their gardens fearfully fixed. To 
such there can be no possibility of adding a favourite plant 
throughout the season or allowing a single one to grow in a 
natural way. i 

There are, at large, gardeners without number whose sole 
ideas of beauty out-of-doors are derived from the garish coloured 
pictures in seedsmen's catalogues. These they toil early and 
late to perpetrate on their employers' grounds and display them 
with a complacent, pardonable pride that is equalled only by 
their masters' total indifference to what they do. Many a woman 
who will weep bitter tears when the painter puts a jarring tint on 
the wall of a room, will blindly blink at the gardener's affronts in 
her most conspicuous door yard. When we remember that the 
masses of our population are but lately landed immigrants, it is 
scarcely surprising that crowds gaze with rapture upon a life-sized 
elephant, done in uniform cactus rosettes, on the greensward of a 
public park. But is it not astonishing when cultivated Americans, 
even those whose houses are furnished artistically and whose 

taste in pictures has been formed after years of study, are content 


70 The American Flower Garden 

to let a day labourer compose what should be to them the most 
important picture of all — the home garden ? The rule may have 
sufficiently rare exceptions to prove it, but I have never seen the 
gardener who, if left to his own devices, would not cut up a lawn 
into stereotyped flower beds of geometric exactness — circles, 
stars, triangles, squares and ellipses — and fill them with 
variegated coleus sheared to a level, or with cannas, or with 
prim rows of deep pink and purple china asters, or with 
screaming scarlet geraniums, or with very Dutch bulbs; the 
tulips or hyacinths invariably arranged in zones of sharply 
contrasting colours within the same bed. Such excrescences 
on a fair green lawn can be likened only to pimples on the face 
of Nature. 

Even the large-minded Thackeray admitted that he liked to 
be observed by his friends when walking down Piccadilly button- 
holing a duke. Similar gratification seems to elate the gardener 
who has the proud privilege of serving a gentleman with an 
imitation deer on his front lawn. The man's ideas of elegance 
and his fellow gardeners' are completely fulfilled by the sight. 
But, as "the Monarch of the Glen" gazes upon the geometric floral 
horrors at his feet, no wonder his face wears a chronically startled 
expression. How far away from nature have men, in their 
ignorance, departed! And for how many crimes against art out- 
of-doors are not the seedsmen's catalogues responsible! 

This chapter sings the charms of the naturalistic treatment of 
a place where unintelligent formality, stereotyped monotony and 
insincerity cease. It does not encourage the attempt to imitate 
wild nature on our lawns and about our houses, which would be 
absurd; but this is not to say, either, that this area may not be 
treated in the naturalistic spirit or that the wild and rough parts 

The Naturalistic Garden 71 

of the grounds may not be made the most interesting and 
beautiful. It must not be supposed for a moment, however, that 
a successful informal garden can be made haphazard. Not only 
must the place as a whole, be planned carefully, but each bit of 
planting, no matter how small, needs to be carefully thought out. 
Every one knows that more skill and a finer artistic sense 
are required by a landscape painter than by a mechanical 

When the gardener, like the painter, studies the natural 
landscape, he learns how effectively nature breaks the sky line 
with tree tops ; how she fringes her woodland with small trees and 
masses of high and low shrubbery in gently flowing outlines; 
how she clothes with kind verdure the raw banks and other scars 
of men's making, draping them with vines, scattering little bushes 
and plants over them until their ugliness is healed. Nature 
insists upon beauty. Her disciple learns that she has plants for 
every place and purpose, and that even on a small home area, 
he, too, may grow a great variety of them in a free and picturesque 
way, giving to each the situation where its peculiar needs may 
best be met and its beauty be displayed to the greatest advantage 
while adding to the effect of the garden picture as a whole. He 
cannot see a little stream without longing to plant a phalanx of 
Japanese irises along the edges, or clumps of feathery ferns or 
tufts of English primroses and daisies, or sheets of blue forget- 
me-nots on its banks. He knows that the deliciously fragrant 
clethra and white azalea bushes would be quite happy among the 
red-berried alder and elder flowers on the margin of his little lake 
where willows and white birches have already made themselves at 
home. A bit of well-drained land that has nothing to fear from cattle 
or a mowing machine, instantly suggests to his mind naturalising 

72 The American Flower Garden 

poet's narcissus and yellow trumpeted daffodils among the grass; 
and he figures that a thousand of these bulbs can be bought for the 
price of a box of cigars. He will spangle his lawn with cheerful yel- 
low crocuses that, unlike the daffodils here, really "come before the 
swallow dares." He delays the first cutting of the grass awhile to 
allow the bulbs to ripen their grass-like leaves. Porcelain blue scillas 
will be happily colonised too. He uses trees and shrubs to mark 
with unoffending outline the boundaries of his grounds and 
secures privacy with them rather than with fences or walls. 
Nature's open stretches of meadow land will have their counterpart 
in the unbroken stretches of his lawn whose borders only may 
be softened by the sweeping branches of a fringe of shrubbery or a 
sinuous border of hardy flowers. He would be as loth to put a 
bed of geraniums in the centre of a tree-girt lawn picture as he 
would to rouge his baby's cheeks. Weeping and freakish trees 
distress him as does shrubbery with variegated foliage suggesting 
a calico pony. If he be the joyful possessor of a bit of woodland, 
he will surely copy nature's method of planting flowering dogwoods 
and shad bushes along the undulating border with an occasional 
Judas tree, perhaps, if its vivid bluish pink blossoms do not offend 
his eye for colour; but by no possibility could a landscape gardener 
worthy the name, plant copper beeches or Japanese maples along 
a copse. A sense of fitness must be conveyed or trees and plants, 
however beautiful in themselves, may give positive offence in alien 
environments. The student of nature's effects will soon cover 
any unsightly old fences, not as nature does too often, with poison 
ivy, but with a fragrant tangle of sweet briar and clematis. He 
will see that a raw, newly cut bank is planted with honeysuckle 
or with the trailing Wichuraiana roses, whose shining dark, waxy 
leaves and myriads of delicate white or pink flowers in July will 



The Naturalistic Garden 73 

speedily transform it into a bank of beauty. Under the trees, along 
a walk or drive, the naturalistic planter will place pockets of soil, 
mellow and cool with leaf-mould, for the spreading masses of rhodo- 
dendron and laurel that keep cheerfully green all winter, and for 
azaleas that include all the shades of sunset. Spires of white 
foxglove will ascend at the half-shaded entrance to his woodland 
cathedral aisles. He will sow poppies broadcast in his most 
informal garden and enjoy a waving ribbon of them along the 
sunny edge of a walk. He may even hope to naturalise them 
successfully among the grain and pasture grasses as one sees 
them growing in Europe. The enthusiastic garden lover ploughs 
a bit of waste ground early every spring and seeds it down with 
wheat and scarlet poppies that are a ravishing delight even 
if not commercially profitable. He scatters the portulaca's 
tiny seed in the driest, sunniest places where no other flower 
would grow, for he knows that a plant that is next of kin to 
"pusley" — most pestiferous of weeds — is not more easily 
discouraged by drought. I have seen it blooming luxuriantly on 
a sandy beach just beyond reach of the tide. Such old-fashioned 
common crowders of finer garden flowers as the tiger lily 
and the orange day lily, scorned by the pretentious, take on 
new splendour when naturalised among the tall grass of an 
unmowed meadow. 

When the gardener of the landscape school comes to plant 
around a home his problem becomes more difficult, for here nature, 
who puts no houses in her pictures, cannot help him with designs. 
His best endeavours will be spent in attempting to reconcile nature 
to the house, by softening its angular outlines and doing what he 
can to divert the eye from its least attractive features, with the help 
of trees, shrubs, and vines, rather than essay the impossible task 

74 The American Flower Garden 

of obliterating them altogether or the undesirable task of smothering 
the house with verdure. If a few fine old trees should happily be 
growing near his building site he already possesses the most recon- 
ciling features he could have. One very charming house I know 
has a gnarled, picturesque old apple tree to shade a porch that 
would have covered and killed it had not a deep brick well been 
built around the trunk to let air, light and moisture down to its 
roots. The treatment gave it a new lease of life. A rocky part 
of the land on another side of this unconventional house was 
chiseled to form the very natural looking steps of approach to it. 
Wistaria blossoms festoon the largest rocks in May after white 
and lavender mats of creeping phlox have carpeted them with 
bloom. Columbines dance on airy stems along the rocky ledges 
and stately white spikes of Spanish bayonets shoot up from 
crowns of blade-like leaves that seem to grow out of the rocks 
themselves. The fiery poker plants set the slopes ablaze in Sep- 
tember. A surging mass of fine shrubs — Japanese barberry, 
mahonia, deutzias, spireas, white rugosa roses, and dwarf ever- 
greens, break in waves against the foundation of that house 
which rises as if by a natural right from their midst. It is the 
foundation line which, in almost every case, should be planted 
out, no matter how much of the remainder of the house may be 
permitted to go bare. 

What are the special claims for the naturalistic treatment of 
our home grounds ? 

It accords with our racial temperament ; therefore it is destined 
to become the dominant style of gardening here, for the same 
reason that the English language prevails on this continent over 
every other tongue. People of Latin blood have carried art to 
the very highest perfection, but our strong Teutonic strain 

The Naturalistic Garden 75 

predisposes us toward nature and naturalistic methods. A traveller 
in Italy can usually tell at a glance where English people are living 
in the villas there by the intrusion of landscape effects, with masses 
of shrubbery and herbaceous borders into the purely Italian plan 
of the estate. Features so entirely out of keeping with their 
environment have seriously marred the beauty of not a few fine 
old villas. But how fitting and altogether charming are the oaks 
and beeches that stretch their giant branches with picturesque 
abandon across the velvet of English lawns, the clumps of shrub- 
bery that all but conceal the paths beyond its gently flowing curves, 
the irregular borders filled with old-fashioned perennials that are 
as characteristically English as Yorkshire pudding! 

For the discerning few, who know when and how to apply 
Italian principles of garden design to some of our own problems, 
they must ever afford artistic satisfaction, which is not to say, 
however, that naturalistic treatment may not quite as thoroughly 
satisfy one's artistic ideals for other kinds of garden problems. 
But even where a house of classically severe architecture demands 
architectural planting immediately around it, formality should 
gradually emerge into more and more freedom of line, the farther 
away the planting recedes from the house until finally the 
naturalistic is lost in wild nature itself. 

However great may be one's intellectual enjoyment of a 
faultless piece of formal garden composition, one is compelled to 
really love far better the little cottage garden where roses tangle 
over the doorway, hollyhocks peep in through the lattice, tawny 
orange lilies that have escaped through the white picket fence 
brighten the roadside, clematis festoons fleecy clouds of bloom 
over the unpruned bushes along a lichen-covered wall where 
chipmunks play hide and seek, and tall, unkempt lilacs send their 

•jt The American Flower Garden 

fragrance through the kitchen door. Herrick was not the last 
Anglo-Saxon to approve of "erring sweetness" or to take "delight 
in disorder," which, he frankly admits, 

" Do more bewitch me than when Art 
Is too precise in every part." 

We Americans are an intensely practical people, and when 
we come to count the cost of our gardens, we happily find that the 
naturalistic treatment is the least expensive because it is permanent. 
Potted plants from the florist — and millions of geraniums and 
foliage plants are sold annually — give a quick, pyrotechnic 
display of flowers, it is true, but frost finishes them forever; 
whereas the price of these tender darlings of the gardener, if in- 
vested in a few good shrubs or hardy perennials, would yield far 
more real beauty and strike their roots into our home affections. 
Bedding plants mean money thrown away after a single season. 
Some gardeners change all the tender plants in a bed, not once, but 
several times in a summer to keep up a brilliant succession of bloom 
— a senseless extravagance when a more artistic pageant might be 
arranged with hardy flowers. Not the least claim for the free, 
picturesque, naturalistic method of planting, is the comparatively 
small cost of taking care of a place where floral features do not have 
to be annually renewed. 

Hardy trees, shrubs, vines, plants and bulbs rapidly compound 
their beauty and value year after year. Ten dollars wisely spent 
upon a hardy garden will produce more beautiful effects, more 
variety, interest, pleasure and artistic satisfaction than a hundred 
dollars invested in bedding plants could ever do. 

The garden that is planted permanently soon overflows its 
beauty into an entire neighbourhood. As its loveliness increases 
so do the owner's friends, who fall heirs to the offshoots and 


The Naturalistic Garden 77 

seedlings which, without thinning out, would soon choke one 
another to death or at least cause deterioration of the stock. The 
salvation of a garden, as of a character, often depends upon giving. 
No miser ever had a beautiful garden. 

And since the first cost of the garden that is planted on 
naturalistic lines is the only cost beyond its easy maintenance, every 
cottager in this country, as in England, may hope to have his door- 
yard gay with hardy perennials, and a few shrubs and vines, at 
least; and oh, how sadly our working people's most unlovely homes 
need cheerful little gardens about them! 

Handkerchiefs, slippers and neckties are not the only useful 
Christmas presents. Why do we so rarely give trees, shrubs, 
bulbs, vines and perennial flowers to our friends ? Many a large 
steamer that leaves the port of New York carries an enormous 
value of perishable cut flowers heaped up in its dining saloon, and 
these are often more of a nuisance than a pleasure to the voyagers. 
Do friends care any less for one another because they stay at home ? 

One bride I know received a cheque to cover the cost of making 
and planting a garden around her new home, and it is certain that 
all the cut glass and bric-a-brac she received will not give her a 
tithe of the pleasure during the rest of her life. For a wooden 
wedding present a young couple who had recently moved into a 
raw, new place received two maples that taxed the capacity of the 
nearest nurseryman's big tree movers. Another couple give 
each other living Christmas trees every year. Their young daughter, 
when asked by her father to chose her own Christmas present, 
handed him a list of hardy hybrid tea roses. These could not be 
enjoyed except in her mind's eye until the following spring, it is 
true, but by that time she had studied how to care for them, 
and now there is not a morning from June until frost when she 

78 The American Flower Garden 

cannot pick a bud for her father's buttonhole, and roses for the 
library table. 

The informal garden has the additional merit of not being 
made all at once, but of growing gradually, naturally, by small 
accretions, whenever one discovers the place where a favourite 
plant would feel at home or the colour of another is needed, or 
where a finer effect might be gained by introducing a new feature, 
or when one may afford a dissipation at the nursery. Every little 
excursion into the world is likely to yield some new treasure trove. 
In moving from a home whose garden was about to be swallowed 
up by the rapidly encroaching city, it was hardest to leave behind 
a sturdy maple tree, too big to transplant, that, as a tiny seedling, 
I had brought in the crown of my hat from the battlefield of 
Lexington. But I jealously removed to the new country home all 
the white phlox from my old garden. The casual observer sees 
only a snowy mass of flowers near my veranda, nothing more — 
but at the sight of it there flashes on my inner eye a picture of 
Hawthorne's cottage at Lenox overlooking the Stockbridge Bowl, 
where his adorable young wife set out the ancestral plants of this 
very phlox under his study window. Years after her death, when 
the phlox that had survived the burning of the cottage, had over- 
flowed to the roadside, I brought home in a pair of overshoes all 
the roots they would hold. Whoever owns a garden that is not as 
full of associations and of sentiment as it is of flowers, misses its 
finest joy. 


"O world as God has made ill All is beauty." — Robert Browning. 

"Knowing a little of the vast world of plant beauty quite shut out of our gar- 
dens by the system in vogue, I was led to consider the ways in which it might be 
introduced; and among various ideas that then occurred to me was the name and 
scope of the ' wild garden. 1 I was led to think of the enormous number of beau- 
tiful hardy plants from other countries which might be naturalised, with a very 
slight amount of trouble in many situations in our gardens and woods — a world 
of delightful plant beauty that we might in this way make happy around us, in 
places now weedy, or half bare, or useless. . . . There has been some mis- 
understanding as to the term 'wild garden.' It is applied essentially to the 
placing of perfectly hardy exotic plants in places and under conditions where 
they will become established and take care of themselves." — W. Robinson. 



TO THE purist it may seem an impertinence to trans- 
plant the flora of other lands to any of those parterres 
of nature's garden we are pleased to call "ours" when 
so many of our native wild flowers offer delightful possibilities as 
yet little realised by American gardeners. But let him remember 
that the commonest wild flowers we have, for example, the daisy 
that now whitens the fields throughout the United States and 
Canada, was unknown on this continent until it smuggled its 
passage across the Atlantic in the hay used for packing the early 
Colonists' china. Very many other so-called weeds — the 
exquisite Queen Anne's lace or wild carrot, the dusty white yarrow, 
the buttercup that spangles our meadows, and "succory to match 
the sky" — to name only a few among many — are merely natural- 
ised foreigners, not natives, that thrive far better here, however, 
than they did at home, just as the Irish and Italian immigrants 
do. When nature does not fix sectional limitations, why 
should we ? 

Along the roadsides leading to old homesteads, we commonly 
find the European tansy's shining yellow "bitter buttons" sug- 
gestive of the time when tansy tea was supposed to cure most of 
the ills that flesh is heir to. Bouncing Bet, another European, 
ran away long ago from the New England women who used to 
make a cleansing, healing lather from the leaves of this soapwort; 
and now the white or pinkish blossoms swell the small list of "our" 

fragrant wild flowers. Tawny orange lilies, that once had their 


82 The American Flower Garden 

passage paid across the ocean, have escaped from their keepers 
through many fences and are now on a triumphal march to free- 
dom. So are the small, speckled red blackberry lilies that origin- 
ally came from China. Escaping from gardens here and there, 
they have already attained the respectable range from Connecticut 
to Georgia westward to Indiana and Missouri. How many 
beautiful flowers, commonly grown in our gardens here, but 
which, of course, are the wild flowers of other lands, might become 
naturalised Americans were we only generous enough to lift a 
few plants, scatter a few seeds over our fences into the fields and 
roadsides — to raise the bars of their prison, as it were, and set 
them free! Most of them are doomed to stay forever in prim, 
rigidly cultivated, cell-like flower beds. Some, like the blue corn 
flower, are waiting only until a chance to bolt for freedom presents 
itself, and away they go. Lucky are they if every flower they 
produce is not plucked before a single seed can be set. Each 
plant has some device for travelling, however slowly, or for send- 
ing its offspring away from home to found new colonies, if man 
would but let it alone. Better still, give the eager traveller a lift! 

Not alone is the prophet without honour in his own country. 
A century before the lovely mountain laurel was appreciated here, 
Peter Kalm had sent specimens to Europe, where it immediately 
became a garden favourite. Even to this day numbers of nursery 
kalmia plants, as well as our native Rhododendron maximum and 
Catawbiense and their hybrids, the best azaleas evolved from our 
bare-stemmed Pinxter flower, the pure pink A. Faseyi, the deli- 
ciously fragrant white azalea of our swamps, and the gorgeous 
flame-coloured azalea from the Carolina mountains, return to us by 
way of Europe. What comfortable little fortunes that might easily 
have been earned by Americans, now stand to the credit of the 


The Wild Garden 83 

Dutch, Belgian and English growers of these plants alone ! ' ' Ameri- 
can gardens," with these splendid representatives of the heath family 
as a basis, have been features of not a few fine English estates for 
many years. It gives the American traveller food for reflection 
to see not only American rhododendrons, laurel and azaleas, but 
New England asters and other members of that starry tribe, the 
tall Canadian goldenrod, the burnt orange umbels of butterfly 
weed, wood and field lilies, rose mallow from New Jersey tide- 
water meadows, fleecy spired clethra, flowering dogwoods and 
viburnums, miliums, bloodroot and meadow rue, and even our 
despised velvety mullein among many other cherished plants 
from home, blooming contentedly on the ancestral soil of a 
British peer. 

Strange as it may seem, quantities of our wild flowers, includ- 
ing the shy little orchids, are exported annually by American 
specialists, who rarely receive an order, however, without a foreign 
postage stamp on the envelope. As a rule, even we few Americans 
who delight in wild gardening have not learned to buy plants from 
nurserymen who grow them from seed, rather than despoil the 
woods and roadsides about our homes. Impulsively we dig up 
plants, whenever or wherever we find them, usually when they 
are in bloom, often when no place has been prepared to receive 
their dry roots and fainting forms, and yet we feel discouraged 
when they die. Who can resist the pure white blossoms of the 
bloodroot, the speckled yellow bell of the little trout lily or adder's 
tongue, and the lavender blue hepaticas ? The temptation to 
dig up the plants at once rather than in August when they are 
resting, too often proves irresistible. Few of us have the patience 
to drive marked stakes beside the flowering plants that we may 
wish to lift, and return, perhaps months afterward, to transplant 

84 The American Flower Garden 

them during their dormant season, and then only when we have 
holes and soil prepared to receive them, water and mulch at hand, 
canvas or paper to hold a generous ball of soil around each root, 
and a waggon to rush them to their new home. Not many people 
study a plant's natural habitat and attempt to give it a similar one 
in their wild garden. We learn only by sad experience that the 
great white trilliums which were so beautiful in the rich, moist 
woods die on a dry upland where barberries, butterfly weed and 
black-eyed Susans would feel more at home; that to expose the 
fine, fibrous roots, of laurel, rhododendrons or azaleas to the sun 
and wind, or plant them in an unprotected situation, is even more 
fatal to them than to the dogwood; that the arbutus rarely lives 
after transplanting, no matter how carefully it may have been 
moved, and that wild roses, not vigorously pruned before they 
are lifted in early spring, generally refuse to put out a leaf. It is 
usually wiser, and certainly far less trouble, perhaps even less 
costly, to buy wild plants trained for travelling by a reliable grower, 
who will ship them properly packed at the right season and answer 
all our cultural questions, than to risk failure and heartbreak 
through experimenting. But oh! what fun one misses! 

Your true gardener is not to be cheated out of those 
excursions to the woods and meadows that are his chief joy. He, 
as well as the nurseryman, learns by observation, study or inquiry 
what are the fixed requirements of his favourite plants, and these 
he spares no pains to meet. If ferns are his hobby, he will soon 
find a moist, shady corner, sheltered from the wind, for the maiden 
hair, rocks for evergreen spleenworts and polypodies, a northern 
slope for a variety of shield ferns, a home among rhododen- 
drons for the royal fern and the fragrant, finely cut fronds of 

The Wild Garden 85 

If other rock-loving plants delight him, he will place pockets 
of rich, light loam between the crevices of boulders and lesser 
stones to nourish happy colonies of columbine, bloodroot, true and 
false Solomon's seals, |Pinxter flower, hawkweed, shooting star, 
Virginia cowslip, blue bells, daphne, violets, St. John's wort, wild 
geranium, and blue phlox among the foreign saxifrages, rock- 
cresses and other Alpine plants, without which was a rock garden 
ever complete ? 

Only the enthusiast with a deeper pocket than any among 
his rocks can buy rhododendrons by the freight-car load, though 
the poor nature lover may know as well as he their delightful 
possibilities when lavishly planted. Grown in bold masses, 
under trees along an entrance drive or beside a brook or on the 
bank of a small lake, their beauty is majestic. Laurel may be 
grouped in the foreground at their feet, tall auratum, superbum 
and Canada lilies may shoot upward from their midst, or their 
heavy dark foliage may serve as a background in damp situations 
for the incomparable red of the cardinal flower or the stately form 
of Japanese iris. With leaves as decorative as a rubber plant's 
and blossoms that form a bouquet complete in itself, the rhodo- 
dendron, either in the wild garden or in the formal garden, reigns 
supreme among evergreen plants. 

But this is not said to discourage the use of many other native 
shrubs of varied loveliness. What a wealth of beauty exists in 
the viburnum tribe alone — in the high bush cranberry and arrow 
wood whose broad white panicles are only less attractive than 
their bright fruit! How impoverished should we be without 
the dogwoods, without the shad bush, the Judas tree, the sumachs, 
the glossy leaved, blue-berried mahonia, and the bright red- 
berried holly! The fragrant button ball, the creamy cups of 

86 The American Flower Garden 

sweet bay (Magnolia glauca), the white azalea that fills the air 
with a spicy fragrance as delicious as the clethra's, the black 
alder whose dark twigs, stuck with red berries, make a cheerful 
punctuation point in the autumn landscape, the elder, whose flat 
white blossoms come with the wild roses, the shrubby cinquefoil, 
the fuzzy pink steeple bush, the meadowsweet and the ninebark, 
equally attractive in flower and in fruit, will not be missing from 
the wild garden planted in moist ground. 

Indeed, a low lying piece of land affords more possibilities 
of establishing colonies of plants that may be trusted to take almost 
entire care of themselves than any other site. Here the monarda, 
bee balm or Indian plume as it is variously called, will spread 
rapidly and invite humming birds to feast every midsummer day 
at the brimming wells of nectar in the ragged red tubes that are 
stuck irregularly around its globes. Here, in late summer, the 
vivid cardinal flower will continue their feast. Rose mallows 
that look like single pink hollyhocks, tall, feathery, meadow me, 
superbum lilies, moccasin flowers, showy lady's slippers, the white 
fringed orchid and other orchids, trilliums, spring beauty, turtle 
head, and the blue fringed gentians, which may now, after long 
experimenting, be grown from seed, are only a few of the many 
native wild flowers that are happy where there is no possibility of 
dying out. In such a place the Virgin's bower clematis will hang 
fleecy festoons over the shrubbery and race with the bittersweet 
and wild grape up the trees. Tufts of English primroses and 
marsh marigolds and sheets of blue forget-me-nots delight to 
spread along the banks of a brook where serried ranks of blue and 
yellow irises and the pure white blossomed arrowhead stand with 
their feet in the water. It was Thoreau who called a swamp 
"Nature's sanctuary." Not until one enters it with an eye alert 



The Wild Garden 87 

for treasures for the wild garden does one realise how many lovely 
ones have their being where the human eye almost never sees them ; 
yet most of them can be grown successfully in much drier places 
within easy access of one's home. The rose mallow from the 
swamps, for example, thrives in a flower garden under the same 
treatment given a hollyhock. Now that the cardinal flower is 
commonly offered in seedsmen's catalogues it has found its way 
into many flower beds, where, however brilliant the blossoms, its 
ill fitting environment robs it of half its charm. 

It surprises most people to see how much a little cultivation 
improves many of our wild flowers. When their fierce struggle 
for existence may be relaxed, when every want is anticipated and 
the plants may devote their entire energy to developing all their 
latent loveliness, how fast it reveals itself! The blue wheels of 
succory double their size; the boneset, another cosmopolitan weed, 
spreads broader panicles of soft leaden white bloom than is its 
wont; its next of kin, the Joe Pye weed, rears fleecy flowers of dull 
Persian pink high above one's head; the evening primrose becomes 
a branching bush, asters multiply their stars, and the goldenrod, 
in well fertilised, cultivated soil, astonishes all beholders by the 
prodigal richness of its gold. 

Not the least claim for the wild garden is that it may be had 
when the flower lover can afford no other. The rich man may 
send abroad for foreign plants to naturalise in the wild parts of his 
estate, or he may buy a freight-train load of native mountain laurel, 
as more than one American enthusiast has done, but nature 
knows no partiality. The poorest teacher in a rural school, with- 
out a penny at her disposal, may take all her boys and girls from 
their desks to nature's nursery in the woods and fields and bring 
home in a borrowed farm waggon treasures enough to beautify the 

88 The American Flower Garden 

bare, unlovely school grounds whose care might well become one of 
the children's most important lessons. The bald ugliness of many a 
village schoolhouse, the hard lines of too many farmers' homes and 
the poorest people's cabins, the barren waste of most country grave- 
yards, might all be mercifully adorned without money and without 
price if the possibilities of free flora were understood by indifferent, 
because unintelligent, people. The use of wild trees, shrubs and 
flowering plants does not necessarily mean a wild garden, but it 
does mean a far more beautiful, artistic, and economical kind of 
gardening than any that the masses of our people can afford. 
It is the garden for the million as well as the millionaire. 

Native Plants For The Wild Garden 

[See also, Laurel, Rhododendron, Clethra, and other desirable 
native shrubs on pp. 155-162 and 175-187.] 

Plants marked thus (*) are suitable for situations surrounding the water garden. 
Note. — The flowering season given is that for the neighbourhood of New York and 
varies earlier or later to the South or North. 

Adder's Tongue. See Dog's Tooth Violet. 

Adam's Needle, Spanish Bayonet (Yucca filamentosa). See Her- 
baceous Plants. (P. 229.) The best desert evergreen plant 
and for subtropical effects. 

*American Senna (Cassia Marylandica). Yellow. July, August; 2 
to 5 feet. Best yellow flower for clumps in moist, open situations 
and swamps. 

Aster (Various species). Blue, mauve to white. August till frost; 
6 inches to 4 feet. Daisy-like flowers of various sizes in loose 
panicles. Open meadows and woodland borders. These are the 

very best late flowers. * , New England (Aster Novce-Anglice). 

Violet and purple; 3 to 8 feet. Moist ground. Much improved 

in cultivation. New York (A. Novi-Belgii). Pale blue; 

2 to 3 feet. Wet, open banks. , Smooth (A. Icevis). Sky blue. 

September, October; 2 to 4 feet. For dry soils and dry wood- 
lands. Easiest way to naturalise is by scattering seeds. 

ine wild Garden 89 

*Baneberry, White {Aetata alba). , Red. (A. rubra). April, June; 

1 to 2 feet. Rich soil in shade. Undergrowth. Most effective 

for the respective white and red berries that follow the flowers. 

Fruiting pedicels of the white baneberry are often red. 
Bayberry (Myrica cerifera). For description see Wax Myrtle in 

Shrubs, p. 187. Naturalise along seashore and on sandy knolls. 
Beard Tongue. See Pentstemon. 

Bee Balm (Monarda didyma). See Herbaceous Plants, p. 217. 
Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta). Yellow with black centre. 

May, September. I to 3 feet. Dry and open ground anywhere. 

Naturalised freely in fields. The most showy daisy-like flower of 

*Black Snakeroot, Black Cohosh (Cimicifuga racemosa). White 

in elongated spikes. June, August; 4 to 6 feet. Moist, shady 

corners, woods, pond edges. 
Blazing Star (Liatris pyenostachya). Purple. July, August. 4 to 5 feet. 

Light, well-drained soil. Long grass-like foliage, with flower heads 

in long spikes. (L. scariosa). 2 to 4 feet. Flowers August, 

September; bluish purple. 
Bloodroot. See Tuberous Plants, p. 273. 
Bluebell. See Harebell. 
Blue Cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides). Flowers greenish purple. 

April, May. I to i\ feet. Well-drained, shady, and dark corners. 

Moist hillsides. Fruits burst, exposing large blue, glaucous seeds. 

Foliage glaucous when young. 
Bluets, Innocence (Houstonia ccerulea). Pale blue, with yellow eye. 

May. 2 to 4 inches. Dainty little 4-petaIled flower growing in tufts 

for open, moist or grassy places. Brightest dwarf flower of spring. 
*Boltonia, False Chamomile (Boltonia latisquama). Lilac. August 

to October; 2 to 6 feet. For bold, wild effects. Moist soil in 

sunny place. B. asteroides has white, pink or purplish flowers. 

July, September. 
*Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum). White, rarely blue. July, Septem- 
ber; 2 to 5 feet. Wet places. Easily naturalised almost anywhere. 
Butterfly Weed, Pleurisy Root (Asclepias tuberosa). Orange, 

rarely yellow. Heads flat. June, September; 1 to 2 feet. Open sun, 

well-drained soil. Easiest plant of its colour to naturalise in fields. 

90 The American Flower Garden 


*Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis). Brilliant carmine. July, 
August; %\ feet. The brightest flower of its kind. Often grown 
in the border, but is somewhat ragged. Best in shady places 
along banks of streams. Scatter seeds freely. 

Celandine Poppy (Stylophorum diphyllum). Yellow or red. May, June, 
i to 2 feet. For a rich, loose soil, but with preference for partial 
shade. Plant has yellow juice. Leaves dark green, flowers quite 

Cinquefoil (Potentilla fruticosd). Bright yellow. All summer; 
6 inches to 4 feet. Small flowers like single roses, one inch across. 
Prefers moist, rich soil, but thrives on dry, and even on rocks. Very 
useful for its long season of bloom, but may become a weed on 
favoured soil. 

Clintonia (Clintonia borealis). Green, margined yellow in threes. 
May, June; followed by blue berries in autumn above the dark-green 
leaves; 1 to 2 feet. Cool, moist woods. Other species almost the 

Columbine (Aquilegia Canadensis). Red and yellow. May, June; 
8 to 20 inches. Excellent for rocky slopes. (See also Herbaceous 
Plants, p. 220.) 

*Crane's Bill (Geranium maculatum). Light pinkish purple in sev- 
eral shades. April to August; 2 feet. In open sunshine, meadows, 
and in woods. A very common wild plant with flat flowers an inch 
and a half across. 

Dog's Tooth Violet, Adder's Tongue, Trout Lily (Erythroniutn 
Americanum). Yellow. April to May; 10 inches. Flowers with 
the violet, and often found growing with it. Solitary nodding 
lily-like yellow flowers an inch long. Leaves marbled with brown 
and silvery gray. Plant 6 inches deep, in any light soil with partial 
shade. Several marked variations. 

Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra Cucullaria). Greenish white, tinged 
with pink. April; 8 inches. Delicate-looking plant, with finely 
divided leaves. Moist soil in partial shade. One of the first 
flowers of spring. 

Dwarf Cornel (Cornus Canadensis). White. May to July; 6 inches. 
Large white bracts, followed by bright red berries in fall. Her- 
baceous. For shaded woods, as undergrowth, along driveways, etc. 

The Wild Garden 91 

False Mitrewort (Tiarella cordifolia). White. May; 6 to 12 inches. 
Foamy masses of small flowers borne above the tuft of foliage. 
Cool soil and full or half shade. In effect the dwarf counterpart 
of the plume poppy. 

*Forget-Me-Not (Myosotis palustris). Along streams. See Herba- 
ceous Plants, p. 221. 

Gentian, Closed (Gentiana Andrewsi). Blue, occasionally white. 
August to October; 1 to 2 feet. Flowers in a compact terminal 
cluster, large and usually quite closed. A strong-growing plant 
for rich, moist soil in partial shade. Excellent along banks of 

streams. , Fringed (G. crinita). Violet. September, October; 

1 to 3 feet. Flower-tube about two inches long, with flat, expanded 
lobes, prettily fringed. A biennial, and in some places the seed is 
killed by frost. Sow fresh seed in moist woods and meadows; or 
in cultivation on a seed bed of sphagnum moss as first described in 
The Garden Magazine for December, 1905. Makes a tiny rosette 
the first year. — — , Narrow-Leaved (G. linearis). Blue. August, 
September; 6 inches to 2 feet. Similar to the closed gentian, but 
tipped with white. Profuse flowering. Perfectly hardy. Moist 
places in open sun and in bogs. The easiest gentian to naturalise. 

*Goldenrod (Species of Solidago). Plumose, yellow. The most char- 
acteristic yellow-flowered plants of late summer and fall. : , Wood- 
land (S. caesia). August, September; 1 to 3 feet. For moist 

shade. , Field (S. nemoralis). July to November. J to 2 feet. 

Best low grower for dry, open places. , Canada (S. Cana- 
densis). August to November. 2 to 8 feet. Best tall kind for 
open places. 

Gold Thread (Coptis trifolia). White with yellow base. May to 
July; 6 inches. For carpeting moist, shady soils and on clay. 
Evergreen, shiny leaves. 

*Grass Pink (Calopogon pulchellus). Purplish pink. June, July; 
1 foot. Grass-like leaves in spring. Swamps and peat bogs, also 
sandy soil if moist. One of the brightest native orchids with 6 to 
12 flowers to a stalk. 

Harebell, Bluebell (Campanula rotundifolia). Blue, rarely white. 
May to July; 6 inches. Dark, shaded places, but open; also rocky 
crevices, and full sun in high altitudes only. 

92 The American Flower Garden 

*Indian Turnip, Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisama triphyllum). Greenish 
spathe, striped purple with a horizontal flap, followed by red berries. 
April to June; i£ feet. Low, moist, rich woodlands. Leaves 
from early spring till autumn, in shady, moist places. 

*Iris, Blue Flag (Iris versicolor). Blue and white. May to July; 20 
inches. Wet places and along brooksides. More slender growing, 
flowering in May and June, is /. prismatica or /. Virginica. At 
home along the East Coast. 

*Ironweed (Vernonia Noveboracensis). Purple. July to September; 
3 to 5 feet. Flowers in large terminal clusters, very showy. Best 
effect in masses near water, making good supplement to the purple 
loosestrife, which is earlier. Also for open places. 

*Jack-in-the-Pulpit. See Indian Turnip. 

Jamestown Weed, Thorn Apple (Datura Stramonium). White. 
June to September; 2 to 5 feet. Any soil. Naturalised from 
tropics. An annual that has become a weed in the South. Use 
only in very wildest places. 

*Joe-Pye Weed (Eupatorium purpureum). Purple to flesh colour, to 
almost white. August to September; 8 to 9 feet. The boldest, tall, rank- 
growing plant for low grounds. Easily naturalised. Foliage coarse. 
Var. maculatum is lower, with purple-brown markings on stem. 

Lady's Slipper, Moccasin Flower (Cypripedium acaule). Rose- 
purple. May to June; 1 foot. Two leaves. Well-drained soil 

with leaf-mould. , Showy (C. spectabile). Pink-purple to pink. 

June; 2 feet. Several leaves. The easiest native orchid to grow 
and the showiest. Bogs or moist, partly shaded bed of peat or leaf- 
mould. Get large clumps, as of all orchids. , Yellow (C. 

pubescens). Yellow brown. May, June; 1 foot. Well-drained 
bed of leaf-mould and peat in moist shade. C. pauciflorum is 
smaller, but easier to grow in similar soil. Leave undisturbed. 

*Lily, Red, Canada and Turk's Cap. See Bulbous Plants, pp. 277, 

Liverwort (Hepatica triloba). Blue, purple, pink. Earliest spring; 
6 to 8 inches. Best and earliest flowering plant for massing in 
shady corners or open woods. In protected places flowers in the 
snow. Holds leather-like, three-lobed old leaves all winter and 
until after flowering. 

The Wild Garden 93 

*Loosestrife, Purple (Lytbrum Salicaria). Bright purple. June to 
August; 2 to 8 feet. Best bright-coloured flowers for late summer, 
for swamps, and wet meadows. Flowers in lax terminal spikes. 

Lupin (Lupinus perennis). Blue, pink, or white. May, June. I to 2 
feet. Dry, sandy soils and banks. Pea-like flowers in loose racemes. 

*Mallow, Swamp Rose (Hibiscus Moscheutos). Rose or white. 
August, September; 3 to 7 feet. For swamps and brackish 
marshes. Large, expanded flower, four inches across, sometimes 
with crimson eye. Best large, rose-coloured flower for wet places. 

May Apple (Podophyllum peltatum). White. May; i£ feet. Large, 
nodding flowers under bold seven and nine lobed leaves, almost 
round and peltate. Creeping root-stocks. Excellent for early 
spring effects in moist woodlands. 

*Meadow Rue, Tall (Thalictrum aquilegi folium). White. July to 
September; 4 to 5 feet. Moist soils in open or along brooks. Light, 
feathery balls of flowers and gracefully cut fern-like foliage. Good 
for cutting too. T. dioicum, I to 2 feet. Purplish flowers in 
April, May. Woods. 

*Meadow Sweet (Ulmaria pentapetald). Creamy white. June, July; 
2 to 4 feet. One of the best free-growing plants for moderately 
moist soils. Showy terminal corymbs, borne on erect stems, natur- 
alised in the East. One variety has leaves variegated with yellow. 
Also a double form. 

*Milkweed, Swamp (Asclepias incarnatd). Rose-purple in flat heads, 
rarely white. July to September; 1 to 2 feet. Swamps, where 
grasses fail, and along streams. Most showy, flat-headed plant for 

late summer in such situations. , Common (A. Cornuti). Dull, 

grayish pink. Earlier; much less showy; but grows on drier soils. 

Milkwort, Fringed (Poly gala paucifolia). Rose. May, June; 6 
inches. For edges of moist, rich woods, in open places. Pretty 
purplish foliage and large-fringed flowers. Plant in clumps. 

Ox-Eye Daisy (Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum). White with yellow 
centre. May to November; 1 to 3 feet. The common daisy of the 
fields, and invaluable for meadow effects. Parent of Shasta daisy 
(see p. 228). 

Partridge Berry (Mitchella repens). Evergreen creeping vine. Dark 
green, with scarlet berries lasting all the winter. Woods. 

94 The American Flower Garden 

*Pentstemon (Pentstemon Icevigatus, var. Digitalis). White. May to 
July; 4 to 5 feet. Any well-drained soil in open places. Easily 
naturalised, and sometimes becomes a weed in meadows. Tubular 
flowers in lax panicles. (For Garden Pentstemon, see Herbac- 
eous Plants, p. 217.) 

Phlox, Wild Blue (Phlox divaricatd). Gray-blue. April to June; 
1 \ feet. Along edges of moist woods. Valuable for its colour at its 
season. Short pyramids of flowers, faintly fragrant. 

*Pickerel Weed (Pontederia cordata). Blue. June to October; 2 to 
4 feet. Wet and swampy lands. Flowers in dense spikes borne 
above the foliage. Best strong-growing plant on stream and pond 

Prickly Pear (Opuntia vulgaris). See Herbaceous Plants, p. 227. 

*Queen of the Prairie (Ultnaria rubra). Pink. June, July; 2 to 
8 feet. Large panicles, slightly fragrant. Moist grounds and open 
meadows. Excellent for wild effects on large areas. 

Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera pubescens). White. August; 1 foot. 
Leaves mottled with white. Flowers in a terminal spike. Easiest 
woods orchid to naturalise in ordinary loam, mixed with pine 
needles and twigs. Native in damp woods. 

Rose, Prairie (Rosa setigera). Pink flowers, fading whitish. June, 
July; 6 feet or more. Best climber. For shrubby effects on dry 
ground R. lucida, 6 feet, with red stems and fruits showy all winter. 
On moist ground, R. Carolina,* 8 feet. 

*Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus fcetidus). Bright, yellow green, bold 
foliage in earliest spring; 1 foot. Moist dells. Very effective. 

Snakeroot. See White Snakeroot, 

*Sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale). Bright yellow. August to 
October; 1 to 2 feet. Best large yellow, daisy-like flower for 
summer and fall. For swamps and wet meadows. Will also 
grow in open border. Var. superbum, 4 feet, with flowers 3 
inches across. 

*Solomon's Seal (Polygonatum biflorum). White flowers in arching 
sprays, with the leaves. June; 1 foot. Black berries in fall. Moist 

shade or rich soil in the open. , False (Smilacina racemosd). 

White. 1 to 2 feet. Flowers in terminal, foam-like sprays. Moist 
shade, preferably well drained. 

The Wild Garden 95 

*SPEEDWELL, Great Virginian {Veronica Virginica). Pale blue or 
white. August, September; 6 feet. For rich soils fully exposed to 
the sun. Very free growing. The best tall blue flower of late 
summer for full sun. 

*Spiderwort {Tradescantia Virginica). Blue. Moist, rich places in 
shade or sun. (See Herbaceous Plants, p. 229.) 

Spring Beauty (Claytonia Virginica). Obscure pink flowers in summer. 
Spreading plant 8 inches high, with long, tapering leaves of bright 
green. Moist soils in rocky bottoms, and especially in moist leaf- 
mould in woods. 

Sun Drops {CEnothera fruticosa). Yellow. June to August; 1 to 3 feet. 
Dry, exposed soil and sand. Common in New England meadows. 
A small, dense, bush-like shrub, covered with inch-wide flowers. 
Sometimes a weed. 

*Sunflower (Helianthus Maximilianus). Yellow. August till after 
frost; 8 to 10 feet. Most desirable sunflower for naturalising 
because of its great height and extremely late season. Individual 
flowers are small. Grows anywhere not a swamp. 

Sweet Fern (Comptonia asplenifolia). Dwarf, shrubby plant, with 
dark green foliage; 2 feet. Best plant for naturalising on sandy 
knolls for foliage effect. Deciduous. 

Tansy {Tanacetum vulgare). Yellow; %\ feet. Flat heads of small 
composite flowers. Common along roadsides, mostly escaped from 
gardens. One of the old-time simples. The flower head 4 to 6 
inches across. July, September. 

Trailing Arbutus {Epigaa repens). Pale rose. May. Creeper. 
A very difficult plant to naturalise, insisting on perfect drainage 
in a dry, sandy, loamy soil, in shade. On planting protect with an 
inch of light litter or leaves, to remain for a whole season. Do not 
attempt this plant unless you have the exact conditions. 

Trillium. See Wood-Lily. 

*Violet {Viola cucullata). Violet blue or purple in shades. April to 
June; 6 inches. Damp places, mostly shaded, but often does well 
in semi-open woods, etc. Best of all the native violets, with largest 
flowers, and very easy to naturalise by transplanting. Root tuberous. 

♦Virginia Cowslip {Mertensia Virginica). Blue. May, June; 1 to 2 
feet. Moist soils in partial shade. Flowers nodding. 

Wakerobin. See Wood-Lily. 

96 The American Flower Garden 

White Snakeroot (Eupatorium ageratoides). White. July to Novem- 
ber; 3 feet. Profusely flowering in loose heads over very long season. 
Rich woods. 

Wild Ginger, Canada Snakeroot (Asarum Canadense). Curious 
brownish-purple flowers an inch or more across. April, May; 10 inches. 
Large kidney-shaped leaves. Flowers borne close to the ground. 
Rich, shaded woods, or with ferns. Leaves appear very early. 

Wild Indigo {Baptisia tinctoria). Yellow. June to September; 1 to 2 
feet. Dry soils in sun or shade. Invaluable for naturalising on 
the coast. Flowers pea-like. 

*Wild Sweet William {Phlox maculata). White or purple. June to 
August; 3 feet. For moist woods or along streams and in open sun. 
Flowers in compact pyramids. (See also Rock Garden, p. no.) 

*Willow Herb {Epilobium angustifolium). Rose-purple. July to 
August; 3 to 5 feet. For rich upland or well-drained soil in open sun. 
Flowers loosely borne in lax spikes at end of shoots, which also 
branch. One of the best plants for bold effects, spreading freely. 

Windflower (Anemone nemorosa). White, tinged purple. April to 
June; 2 to 4 inches. Partial shade. Excellent for carpeting and 
woodland borders, and in the grass. Solitary flowers 1 inch across, 
like small single roses. {A.Pennsylvanica.) White; 12 to 18 inches. 

Wintergreen {Gaultheria procumbens). White, followed by bright 
red berries. June to September; 2 to 6 inches. A low-growing 
evergreen, with bright green leaves. For woods. Berries last 
till next season. Difficult to naturalise. Treat like trailing arbutus. 

Wood-Lily, Wakerobin {Trillium grandiflorum). White. May; 8 
inches to i\ feet. For woods and shaded stream borders. The 
flower is two inches across, carried above 3-partite leaf on single stalk. 
Very easy to naturalise. Tuberous. The best early white flower 
for woods. Plant in masses. T. erectum has dark purple flowers. 

*Yarrow {Achillea Millefolium). White. Summer; 2 feet. Flat heads 
of very small composite flowers on erect stalk arising from tuft 
of very finely cut feathery leaves. Pungent odor. For open mead- 
ows and all sunny places. Var. roseum has pink flowers. Most 
showy plant for meadows. 

Yellow-fringed Orchis {Habenaria ciliaris). Indian yellow. August, 
September; 2 feet. Pyramids of fringed flowers. Bogs or moist 
meadows. Very easy to accommodate. 


"An artificial rockery is usually a bit of frankly simple make believe. Nine 
times out oj ten there is something about it half junny, half pathetic, so innocent, 
so childish is its absolute failure to look like real rocky ground." 

"I would have everything planted in longish drifts, and above all things 
it should be planted geologically; the length of the drift going with the natural 
stratification of the dell. In all free or half-wild garden planting good and dis- 
tinct effect (though apparent and enjoyable to every beholder, even though he may 
not perceive why it is right and good) is seldom planned or planted except by the 
garden artist who understands what is technically known as "drawing." But 
by planting with the natural lines of stratification we have only to follow the 
splendid drawing of nature herself, and the picture cannot fail to come right." 

— Gertrude Jekyll. 



A PRETENTIOUS pile of rickety rocks propped with 
cobble stones, and a few sickly, sun-baked plants 
straggling over them in a meaningless manner — this 
would seem to be the prevailing idea of a rock garden in too many 
American dooryards. Yet a rock garden, treated in a naturalistic 
and practical way, and fitted into the surrounding scene as if it 
really belonged there, may be the most charming feature of a place. 
Moreover, it may become the refuge of many unique and interest- 
ing plants that would grow nowhere else, or of others, not alpine, 
yet that thrive best among deep, cool, moist pockets of soil 
between the rocks where one almost never sees them in our 
over-conventional gardens. 

If there are no rocks on one's grounds, nor within easy hauling 
distance, not only is the cost of making a rock garden a serious 
matter, but the artificiality of it is likely to be so apparent as to 
make the effort scarcely worth while. Only the Japanese seem 
to have the selecting and placing of garden stones reduced to an art 
that defies detection. Lives there the American who would make 
long pilgrimages to the mountains to secure one weather-worn rock 
of just the right shape and tint to fit into his garden picture ? 
Where some fine rocks in a desirable situation naturally occur on 
one's grounds, of course it is sheer waste not to use them, and 
painfully inartistic to create artificial rockwork unless it can be so 
skilfully added to what nature offers as to seem to be a part of her 
design. Immense sums of money and glorious opportunities for 


ioo The American Flower Garden 

beauty have been wasted in blasting and burying rocks on estates 
in Connecticut alone in order to make "gentlemen's country seats" 
conform with conventional methods of treatment elsewhere. Let 
no one deplore the possession of boulders, outcropping rocks, 
rocky seams, crevices, and ledges, for the trained imagination of 
a landscape gardener should find infinite possibilities of beautifying 
them at a fraction of the cost of reducing the land to a level common- 
place. The opportunity to preserve the land's individuality, no 
true lover of nature or of gardening will neglect. One of the most 
beautiful estates in this country includes an abandoned stone 
quarry, now transformed by the subtle and sympathetic art of 
the gardener into the happy home of myriads of rock-loving 
plants. Your true gardener never spoils nature: he trains and 
develops her. 

Since the situation of any kind of a garden should dominate 
the whole scheme of its development, few hard and fast rules for 
the making of a rock garden can be laid down. However, it is 
certain that the site needs to be selected with extra care, for most 
of the failures to grow alpines and other rock-loving plants in this 
country have resulted from attempting to copy the rockeries of 
England instead of adapting them to our drier, more sunny and 
more extremely hot and cold climate. But at last we have learned 
that rocks not screened from the sun by trees, or so situated on a 
northern slope that only the weaker rays of morning or afternoon 
sunshine slant upon them, are more likely to scorch or scald plants 
than to aid their growth. We may not attempt to naturalise in 
exposed and sunny situations around our homes those charming 
little cushions, rosettes, tufts and creeping plants from the cooler 
mountains above the timber line, where moisture-laden clouds and 
mists almost always envelop them. Nor will alpine plants, however 

The Rock Garden 101 

carefully guarded from our mid-summer sun and drought, thrive 
in a situation swept by the wind. 

Evergreen trees make the best wind-break where a rock 
garden cannot be planted on a protected hillside, but they must 
be kept at a distance where the roots of the guardians will not rob 
their wards. In addition to the taller evergreens, hemlocks, pines, 
firs, and cedars, that are useful chiefly as a sun or wind screen in the 
background, we have learned to utilise the broad-leaved native 
evergreens for closer shelter — rhododendrons, laurel and bay, 
whose fine roots never forage far; and to punctuate points of 
greatest interest, or exposure, among the most sensitive plants, with 
those charming little dwarf pines, junipers, thuyas and retinis- 
poras from Asia that nevertheless seem to belong to our rock 
gardens by every natural right. In the lee of a very small ever- 
green a choice alpine plant may be induced to live contentedly, 
whereas, without the shelter, it would as certainly die — a fact 
mentioned in this connection only to show how almost any desirable 
site, however exposed, may be utilised for a rock garden with the 
help of proper protecting plants and trees. 

Rock gardens are not necessarily made on natural slopes to 
simulate a bit of wild mountainous scenery in miniature, although 
the best of them are. Some very successful ones have been created 
on what was once level land. What is known as an underground 
rockery is made by excavating an open passage down into the soil 
and banking up the earth on either side of the cutting as fast as it 
is dug, all the top soil having been previously removed and saved 
to spread over the banks when finally graded, and to place in 
pockets between the rocks where plants are to be set in. The 
width of several feet at the entrance to the passage may be varied 
and increased to fifteen or twenty feet farther on; and the depth, 

102 The American Flower Garden 

gradually increasing as the cutting proceeds and then diminishing 
again toward the exit, will vary according to the amount of soil 
thrown up on the banks. After rocks have been added to the 
slopes, an excavation of only three feet may make a total depth of 
six. Of course, the cutting is not done in a straight line, but in a 
gently curving one, in the hope of creating an impression of natural- 
ness as well as affording a variety of exposures to plants of varying 
needs. The marvel is that such an absolute fake as an under- 
ground rock garden can ever be convincing. Needless to say, it 
takes an artistic genius to make it so. Yet there is a rockery of this 
purely artificial type at Kew Gardens, London, which is a joy to all 
beholders; another good one, cut into a bank by the same under- 
ground method and executed by a former Kew man, 
thrives on the grounds of Smith College, Massachusetts. Many 
others are partly natural and more or less cut out underground; 
but never in this dry land of ours was a successful rock garden 
made on a sunny southern slope, where the rain runs rapidly away 
or evaporates, unless a cascading brook or water introduced by 
pipes among the rocks keeps up a never failing supply of moisture. 
So much of the success of a rock garden, cultural as well as 
artistic, depends upon the placing of the stones, that one needs to 
proceed almost as cautiously as a Japanese extremist. Of course, 
the fundamental idea of a rock garden is to suggest a natural, rocky 
slope such as is seen on the mountain sides where alpine plants have 
their origin, but with its excellences condensed into a small area, 
its beauties emphasised by art and the number of its desirable 
plants greatly increased. Such a scene, however, will be of short- 
lived beauty unless the best possible situation and soil for every 
plant that one attempts to grow have been given it. It is better to 
devote one's first thought to providing a healthful home for the 


The Rock Garden 103 

plants and then reconcile it with the loveliest pictorial effect 
possible. The thoughtful gardener will never pile one stone upon 
another without a sufficient stratum of earth in the sandwich to 
nourish a stonecrop, creeping phlox, or hardy candytuft (Iberis) 
that hangs its snow-laden stems well over rocky ledges. He will 
see that every rock not only rests in deep good soil and within a 
generous area of it, but that a pocket of loam made rich, light and 
cool with decayed vegetable matter — not manure — is provided 
wherever a plant is to be set out. Rhododendrons, laurel, azaleas 
and orchids delight in a cool, moist, peaty soil, and so do most 
ferns and lilies; primroses want leaf-mould; true alpines crave 
crushed rock or gravel mixed with it; the cross-bearing tribe and 
composites make the most of any good loamy soil, for they are not 
fastidious; hardy cacti, sedums, mossy and starry saxifrages, live 
forever and other more or less succulent plants, whose deep roots 
enable them to endure the sunniest situations, may be given a 
rather sandy soil without offence. Stagnant moisture about its 
roots no plant will endure, but then the very nature of a rock garden 
usually insures good drainage. Not even a skunk cabbage will 
thrive in sour soil. Sweetness and light are more essential in a 
garden than in Matthew Arnold's essays. 

Clinkers, shells, masses of scoriae and masonry in a rockery 
could be tolerated only where the insensate owner would feel equal 
satisfaction in seeing a picket fence around it. In no other part of 
the home grounds, perhaps, is the suggestion of artificiality to be 
more studiously avoided. Walls, fences, lanterns, benches and 
other man-made objects should not be seen from it. Even a 
macadam road through it, if necessary, is deplorable. A formal 
path quite as effectually spoils a scene which should be entirely 
naturalistic, simple and picturesque. Flat, irregular stepping- 

104 The American Flower Garden 

stones, sunk to the level of the surrounding soil, with ferns, mosses, 
or little creeping plants overgrowing their edges, make the ideal 
path. Pebbles loosely scattered over an earth walk of flowing 
outline keep the feet dry, and if the edges of the path are broken 
irregularly by rocks over which little creepers steal out into the 
open, they give no offence to a critical eye. Whenever steps 
are necessary — and broken levels that add so much to the charm 
of any garden have most reason to exist where rocks cause many 
uneven surfaces — let them be made, like the path, of flat surfaced 
stones deeply imbedded in the earth, or grouted in cement, if there 
be danger of frost throwing them out of position. Steps of cedar 
or locust logs, that will not rot on the ground for many years, are 
also harmonious, but these, like the rocky steps and stepping-stones 
in the path, should be unequally spaced and surrounded by good 
soil that will encourage little plants to grow close about them and 
partially conceal their outlines. One feature of a rock garden in a 
large public park which should serve as a warning to all beholders, 
is, unfortunately, mistaken for an example. Rows of sharply 
pointed rocks, like a gigantic set of false teeth, are set along the 
path with a profusion of mixed magenta and scarlet portulacas 
among them only adding to the horror. After a long series of 
eliminations from gardens, public and private, one finally learns 
at least what not to do. 

Nearly every rock garden has too much rock in evidence. 
Plant it out! Allow only glimpses of it here and there, 
unless some fine great boulders, undraped by vines, or un- 
clothed by polypodies, or unscreened by dwarf evergreens, add a 
touch of nobility to the too sweet beauty of the picture you 
are trying to create. 

The trace of a cutting tool on rocks can easily destroy all 

The Rock Garden 105 

semblance of naturalness. Chiselled surfaces should never be 
exposed to view. Sandstone makes, perhaps, the most desirable 
setting for plants, but any rocks or boulders that belong to the 
region where the garden is situated are always the ones to use. 
Some will surely be chosen for the sake of the mosses and lichens 
upon them. Exquisite mosses can be cut in squares from the 
woods, like sods from a lawn, and successfully transplanted to 
carpet shady banks as if with deep green plush. 

What shall be planted in the rock garden? That depends 
upon whether it is to be made in Maine or California, on a rich 
man's large estate or on the home acre of an impecunious plant- 
lover who is his own gardener. From the list that follows this 
chapter every one may make the selection best suited to his needs, 
but in a general way it may be said that the most expert gardener 
will find a fascinating hobby to tax his skill in attempting to grow 
the rarer alpine plants; that no better environment for many of 
our loveliest wild flowers, ferns, mosses, lichens and exquisitely 
tinted toadstools and fungi can be secured than that of a rock 
garden, where they properly belong; and that while many bulbs, 
such as scillas, chionodoxas, single narcissus and daffodils may 
fittingly be naturalised among the rocks, such prim, formal flowers 
as tulips and hyacinths look out of place in a purely naturalistic 

Water and rocks have been closely associated in people's 
minds since the miracle of Moses, and if they can be in the garden, 
too, the most charming results are possible. A brook, a pool, or 
a little cascade splashing its refreshing drops over the mossy rocks 
where harebells, ferns, irises, cardinal flowers, miliums and marsh 
marigolds delight In them, would suggest the easy transition from 
earth-loving plants to those of the bog and to true aquatics. Such 

106 The American Flower Garden 

a gradual transition, wherever there is the opportunity to have it, 
insures more varied loveliness than the unaided imagination can 
grasp. But that is another story. 

Foundation Plants for the Rock Garden 

The flowering season given is that of New York. 

Adonis, Spring {Adonis vernalis). Yellow. April. Sun. (Seep. 216.) 
Anemone, Japan {Anemone Japonica). Rose, white. Single and 

double. August, October; 2 to 4 feet. For named varieties see 

trade lists. Flowers 2 inches across, like single roses. Best late 

flower for cutting. Partial shade. , Wood {A. sylvestris). 

White, flowering in spring, is similar. , St. Brigid {A. coro- 

naria, var. St. Brigid). Various colours, except clear yellow. 

April; 6 to 8 inches. Finely cut foliage. Like gigantic double 

buttercups. Most valuable species for the garden. Responds to 

high cultivation. , Pasque Flower {A. Pulsatilla). Blue. 

April; 6 inches. Flower i| inches long, with numerous long brown 

hairs outside. Largest early blue flower for the rock garden. 
Aster {Aster Novce-Anglice). Purple. (var. rosea). Rose. 

{A. leevis). White. Best daisy-like flowers for late bloom. 

Variable. Sun. 1 foot up. (See page 88.) 
Baby's Breath {Gypsophila paniculata). White. August; 2 feet. 

Very small flowers in loose panicles. For shade or sun. Good 

soil. (See page 216.) 
Beard Tongue {Pentstemon barbatus). Red. July; 2 feet. Sun. In 

loose panicles. Flowers 1 inch long. One of the best summer 

flowers. (See p. 217.) 
Bellflower {Campanula Carpatica). Blue. July; 1 foot. Sun. 

, Bluebell {C. rotundifolia). Pale blue. Sun. 6 inches. 

These are among the very best of all the blue flowers. Easily 

grown, whereas the rock gentians are difficult. (See p. 217.) 
Bloodroot. See Bulbous and Tuberous Plants, p. 273. 
Blue Bells {Mertensia pulmonarioides). Blue. April; ij feet. Shade. 

(See Virginia Cowslip, p. 230.) 
Blue Leadwort {Ceratostigma plumbaginoides). Blue. September. 

Creeping. Sun. Best creeping blue flower of summer. Like a 

phlox. (See p. 224.) 


The Rock Garden 107 

Blue Sage (Salvia azurea). Blue. August, September; I to 5 feet. Sun. 

Flowers varying to white. Light, sandy soil. Protect in winter. 
Bugle-Weed {Ajuga reptans). Blue. May. Sun. Rich soil. (See 

p. 218.) 
Candytuft (Iberis sempervirens). White. April; 4 inches. Sun. 

Makes tuft of dazzling white in early summer after phlox. (See 

P- 57-) 
Columbine (Aquilegia Canadensis). Red. April; 8 to icr inches. 

Sun and rocky slopes. Invaluable. , Feathered (Thalictrum 

aquilegi folium). Pink. July; 6 inches to 2 feet. Sun. Rich, moist 

soil. Daintily cut foliage, with foam-like flowers. (See p. 220.) 
Cranesbill, Meadow (Geranium pratense). Light purple. April, 

August. I to 2 feet. Shade. , Red (G. sanguineum). 

Red. August; 1 to 2 feet. Sun. , Spotted (G. maculatum). 

Pink. May; 1 to 2 feet. Shade. Flat flowers; 1 to £ inches across. 

Common wild plants. 
Crocus, Autumn (Colchicum autumnale). Purple. September; 4 

inches. Sun. Invaluable for late flower. Blooms without leaves. 

(See p. 274.) 
Daffodil (Narcissus Bulbocodium). Yellow, lemon. April; 4 inches. 

Sun. This is the hoop-petticoat. Other very small-flowered 

species of Narcissus may be used, but are difficult to handle. 
Edelweiss (Leontopodium alpinum). Yellow. June, July; 4 to 

12 inches. Sun. Small woolly flowers in star-like clusters, with 

very hairy bracts. Leaves also densely covered with white 

hair. Well-drained, medium-light soil, in full sun. Raise from 

Evening Primrose (CEnothera Missouriensis). Yellow. June; 18 

inches. Sun. (See p. 221.) 
False Goat's Beard (Astilbe Japonica, var. compacta). White. 

May; 1 foot. Shade. (See pp. 222, 229.) 
Forget-Me-Not (Myosotis palustris). Blue. April; 6 inches. Sun. 

The most pleasing small blue flower, with long season. Any soil. 

(See p. 221.) 
Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea). Purple. June; 3 feet. Shade. Rich, 

loose, moist soil. - , Perennial (D. ambigua). Yellow. June. 

Shade. Not nearly as beautiful as the common. 

108 The American Flower Garden 

Goldentuft (Alyssum saxatile). Yellow. April, May. Most pro- 
lific small yellow flower of spring. Blooms intermittently all 
season. Self sows. Avoid heavy clay soil. Sun. 

Horned Violet {Viola cornuta). April till frost. Violet. Tufted 
plant. Flower like small pansy. Any good soil. Sun or half 

Jacob's Ladder (Polemonium reptans). Light blue. May; i foot. 
Shade. Flowers half inch across in loose panicle. Much attacked 
by snails, especially in winter. Raise from seed in fall. Rich, 
deep, loamy soil. 

Lily-of-the-Valley (Convallaria majalis). White. May. Shade. 
(See p. 278.) 

Mist Flower (Conoclinium ccelestinum). Blue. September, October; 
1 to 2 feet. Sun. Flat-topped clusters on leafy stems. Any soil. 
Protect slightly. 

Moss Pink, Creeping Phlox (Phlox subulata). Rose, lavender, white. 
April, May; 2 inches. Cheapest and showiest carpeting plant for 
spring bloom. Rocks or soil, sun or shade. Named varieties 
have refined colours. The common wild form is a harsh magenta. 

Mother-of-Thyme (Thymus Serpyllum). Pink. May; 4 inches. 
Sun. Fragrant foliage. For dry, poor soil. Evergreen. 

Mountain Spurge (Pachysandra procumbens). White to purplish. 
May, June; 6 to 12 inches. Shade. Shrubby. Large, dark-green 
leaves. Excellent for carpeting under trees. Any soil. 

Plantain Lily (Funkia cordifolia and subcordatd). White, blue 
August. Shade. (See p. 63.) 

Poppy, Iceland (Papaver nudicale). White, yellow, orange, red. May; 
1 foot. Sun. Raise from seed where it is to flower. Well-drained 
soil in sun. (P. alpinum). Similar. (See p. 227.) 

Prickly Pear (Opuntia Rafinesquii). Yellow. June; 4 inches. Sun. 
Exposed rocky ledges. (See p. 227.) 

Primrose, English (Primula vulgaris). Pale yellow. April; 4 inches. 
Shade. Cool, moist, but thoroughly drained soil. Protect in 

winter. , Cowslip (P. officinalis). Bears smaller flowers in a 

cluster on a long stalk. Slightly darker. , Polyanthus 

(P. polyantha). Like the true primrose, but in great variety of 

The Kock Garden 109 

Rock Cress, White {Arabis albida). White, fragrant. May; 4 to 6 
inches. Cheapest and showiest spring-blooming white-flowered 
plant for carpeting the ground. Do not confuse with alpina, 

having smaller flowers and otherwise inferior. , Purple 

(Aubrietia deltoidea). Purple. June, July; 3 inches. Moist or 
dry places. Best in rich soil in pockets to keep roots cool. 
Unusual colour. Needs slight protection. 

Saxifrage, Pyramidal (Saxifraga Cotyledon). Great silvery rosettes 
of leaves and pyramidal inflorescence 20 inches high, of small 
white flowers. May, July. Largest and showiest of the 
family. T© get the largest specimens remove the offsets. Excel- 
lent for rockeries. , Thick-Leaved (S. crassifolid). Pink. 

April; 6 to 8 inches. Sun. Massive coarse foliage and flowers 
in dense, branching heads; 3 to 4 inches long. (See also London 
Pride, p. 61.) 

Sea Lavender (Statice lati folia). Lavender. June; 18 inches. Sun. 
Any soil. Very effective. Small flowers in profuse spreading 
spikes. For background. Do not disturb. Deep soil. 

Sea Pink {Armeria maritima). Pink. May, June; 3 to 6 inches. Sun. 
Flowers in dense heads above tufts of evergreen foliage. Any soil. 
Propagate by seed or division. 

Self-Heal (Brunella grandiflora). Dull purple. June to July; 8 to 12 
inches. Half shade. Flower heads carried above the mass of 
foliage. Avoid dry soil. Also for carpeting. 

Shooting Star (Dodecatheon Meadia). Pink. April; 1 foot. Shade. 
Cluster of flowers surmounting long stalk. Open, well-drained soil, 
moderately rich. Give northern or eastern aspect. 

Showy Sedum (Sedum spectabile). Pink. August; 18 inches. Sun. 
One of the best summer flowers for dry, shallow soil. (See p. 228.) 

Silvertuft (Alyssum argenteum). Yellow. April and all summer; 
1 foot. In clustered heads. Sunny places with deep soil. 

Snow-in-Summer (Cerastium tomentosum). White. June; 8 inches. 
Smothered with flowers 1 inch across. Silvery foliage attractive 
all season. Fine for edgings and naturalising on rocks or in strong 
grass. Drought resister. 

Stoke's Aster (Stokesia cyanea). Blue. August. , (var. alba). 

White. Largest thistle-like flower for rockeries; 6 inches. Sun. 

no The American Flower Garden 

Stone Crop (Sedum hybridum, and others). Yellow. July; 3 inches. 
Sun. Succulent plants making rosettes of thick, fleshy foliage. For 

shallow ledges, growing in almost no soil at all. (S. album). 

White. July. , Love-Entangle (S. sexangulare). Yellow. 

Sweet Alyssum (Alyssum maritimum). White ; 4 inches. Easiest white 
flower to grow for carpeting and edging. Blooms all summer on 
lengthening stems. Rocky ledges. 

Sweet William, Wild (Phlox divaricata). Blue. May; 1 to J feet. 
Sun. Moist and well-drained soils. (See p. 96). 

Toad Lily (Trier ytis hirta.) Brownish. Half shade. September; 1 
to 2 feet. Flowers on erect, leafy stems. One of the latest bloom- 
ers. Light, sandy loam; well drained. Var. nigra blooms earlier. 

Woolly Woundwort (Stachys lanata). Pink. July; 6 inches. Sun. 
Valuable for the silvery foliage edging. Ordinary soil. 

Yarrow (Achillea Millefolium). White; var. roseum pink. September; 
I to 2 feet. Sun. Good soil. 


"The opportunity to introduce such elaborate fountains and combinations 
of pools and cascades as are seen abroad does not often occur in this country; and 
where water is used, some regard must generally be paid to the presence of the 
water-metre. A pool or basin of standing water, as in the old Egyptian gardens, 
will, however, serve to grow aquatic plants, and to add that touch of life to the 
scene which can best be given by reflections from the surface of a pool. Indeed, 
the charming effects that can be obtained at comparatively slight expense by the 
judicious use of a small basin make water one of the most useful accessories of 
the garden." — Guy Lowell. 



WATER in a landscape is as a mirror to a room — the 
feature that doubles and enhances all its charms. 
Whoever may possess a lake, a pond or a pool to 
catch the sunbeams, duplicate the trees and flowers on its bank, 
reflect the moon, and multiply the stars, surely will. A distinct 
and delightful class of plants may then be added to one's place. 

Where may one hope to have a water garden? Anywhere! 
For a wash-tub, sunk in a city back yard, would hold at least one 
of the pastel-tinted water-lilies. Even a rain barrel under the 
water-spout of a farm house has grown quantities of water hya- 
cinths that sent up spires of porcelain-blue blossoms throughout 
the summer; but only this plant that can anchor its peculiar roots 
firmly enough to resist the sudden downpour of thunderstorms 
and has vigour enough to choke the river Amazon should be chosen 
for such a place. 

One charming little water garden was planted in kerosene 
oil barrels. First they were sawed in half, then set fire to within, 
presently turned open end downward on the ground to extinguish 
the flames after the oil was consumed, and then sunk to their depth 
in the earth at different intervals and levels in a sheltered, sunny 
spot; the perfect circle of their basins concealed by irregularly 
placed stones with the everywhere useful creeping phlox, candytuft, 
the dwarf bamboo and Japanese iris growing between them. And 
the whole ten tubs, each slowly dripping its overflow into another 
through little concrete gutters cleverly hidden under the stones, were 


ii4 The American Flower Garden 

supplied with a stream of water smaller than a lead pencil, from the 
house main. The zealous amateur who a few years ago proudly 
displayed in her oil barrels some of the choicest Marliac water 
lilies, of as varied tints as a debutante's party dresses, her brilliant 
water poppies and the feathery papyrus plant of the Egyptians, 
now invites your admiration of her superb pink Indian lotuses that 
thrive in six half-hogsheads. If she might sink the hull of the 
Great Eastern in her little sunny lawn and grow the Victoria regia 
therein perhaps her ambition would be still unsatisfied. 

Even where the smallest stream of running water cannot be 
had — and constantly running water is not desirable except in large 
ponds — there is no danger of mosquitoes breeding in tubs and 
barrels if these are flushed out with a hose once a week. But, 
of course, the ideal spot for a water garden is an otherwise worthless, 
boggy piece of low land through which a sluggish stream finds 
its way. Nothing remains but to clear the land of stumps, brush 
and the rankest weeds, to dam the stream and plant your pond. 
Nature has been working for you during the centuries. 

Your true landscape gardener will cherish the alder bushes, 
osier willows, tulip trees, tamarack and swamp maples on the 
banks, magnolia, wild azalea, meadow sweet, button-bushes, 
superbum lilies, boneset, yes, and even the tall, stalwart "cat tail" 
bulrushes. Like wild rice, arrow-head, pickerel weed, wild iris 
and sedges, the rushes, that rise in phalanxes on the margins of 
the pond, are content to stand either on the shore or with their 
feet in water. Study the work of the best Japanese artists if you 
would realise the decorative value of such plants. Politely but 
firmly will the landscape gardener, who has not mistaken his calling, 
overrule his patron's suggestion to have a shaven lawn come down 
to the water's edge, knowing that it would strike as false a note of 


The Water Garden 115 

artificiality in a naturalistic picture as a concrete curb. Nor may 
the man who merely pays indulge a fancy for little dumpy islands 
that would give an effect something like a fly-specked looking-glass 
to the mirror-like surface of the pond. One might think that 
rhododendrons would look well anywhere, but perhaps no other 
plant is so unsuited to small islands, which they seem to trans- 
form into dumplings. 

Oftentimes the beauty of plants already growing about the 
site of a proposed pond should determine the shape of it. How 
well worth while to let a little promontory jut out into the water 
in order to save a fine clump of white birches backed by hemlocks; 
to leave as an island, if the pond be large enough, the colony of 
clethra and andromeda bushes where Maryland yellow-throats 
have had their happy home for generations; to indent the shore 
where the water of a little bay might refresh miliums, spring 
beauties, marsh marigolds, Virginia cowslip and royal fern 
(Osmunda) that would certainly perish through too drastic drain- 
ing. An indented shore line increases the apparent size of a pond, 
besides affording more margin for planting. In any case, a flowing, 
irregular outline is always preferable to the perfect ellipses and 
circles suggesting geometry problems writ in water. 

One of the most delightful by-products of a pond — to use 
a commercial phrase — may be a bog garden. "Nature's 
sanctuary," it will be remembered, was Thoreau's name for the 
swamp about Walden pond where he found some of her loveliest 
treasures hidden. There is the ordinary bog of plain black muck, 
semi-fluid and bottomless, yet not without its gifts of cardinal flower, 
viburnum, silky dogwood, blue lobelia, Joe Pye weed, elm-leaved 
goldenrod, convolvulus and hosts of other lovely wild shrubs and 
flowers; but it is in the sphagnum bog, where for ages the moss 

n6 The American Flower Garden 

has grown and decomposed, slowly piling layer on layer, that the 
interesting insectivorous plants have their home — pitcher plants, 
Venus's fly-trap, butter-wort, sundew, and many of the shyest, 
loveliest orchids. Water in a sphagnum bog is the purest of the 
pure, containing no bacteria, and as its moss is so poor in nitrogen 
we now understand why some of its denizens must either get that 
element through an insect diet, or, like the bog-loving members 
of the heath and orchid families, secure their nourishment from 
decaying organic matter. Which is to say that they, in common 
with the ghoulish Indian pipe, pine sap and mushrooms are what 
botanists call "partial saprophites" — a far more respectable class 
than out and out parasites to which the murderous mistletoe and 
dodder belong. 

In the making of a wholly artificial pond of any considerable 
size that is desired to have the appearance of a natural sheet of 
water, so much digging and grading will be necessary, so much 
mixing of cement or puddling of clay to make a water-tight layer 
on the bottom and sides of it, so much preparation of good, rich, 
heavy soil for planting in, that only the most zealous lover of 
aquatic plants should attempt one; only a rich man can afford one, 
and no one less than a genius can give an entirely artificial water- 
garden the semblance of sincerity and perfect naturalness. A 
natural hollow in the land, deep enough to allow the addition of 
more than a foot of rich soil, will save an excavator's bill; a 
spring or any water supply in the vicinity that will prevent 
a plumber's longer bill for piping is a boon, and the presence 
of a bed of pure clay for puddling the pond will also save 
dollars that one would so much more gladly give for shrubs, 
hardy flowers and water lilies than for cement. 

After the gently curving outline of an artificial pond has been 

The Water Garden 117 

staked out, it will probably be necessary to use a spirit level and 
straight edge to fix the grade for levelling the bottom; perhaps a 
surveyor's instrument may be needed if the pond is to have a greater 
diameter than a hundred feet. Small water gardens can have 
charms out of all proportion to their size and expense, let it be 
remembered. As the roots of water lilies must never be allowed 
to freeze, the depth of the pond they are to be planted in will be 
determined by the thickness of the ice, if any, that is likely to form 
over it. It is certainly desirable that the water should be as 
shallow as possible, usually not deeper than two feet, not only 
because the sun will keep it warmer, but because much digging will 
be saved. Then, too, the rubber-booted gardener should be able 
to wade out to every plant in case of need. For this reason the 
practical person will advocate the planting of water lily and lotus 
roots in tubs or boxes and sinking them, rather than setting them 
out in the enriched bottom of the pond itself where they may spread 
at will. If the entire bottom of a pond be covered to the depth of 
fifteen or eighteen inches with rich, heavy soil, the cost is naturally 
considerably greater than when only the small area planted, or 
the tubs that contain the tubers and rhizomes of aquatic plants, 
need be supplied with it. Moreover, the rubber boot is sure to 
damage roots that roam at large, and, by stirring up muck and 
rubbish from the bottom, it fouls the water. 

Since much water is necessarily lost from a pond every day 
by evaporation and the transpiration of the plants, it is essential 
that little or none should be lost by leakage, particularly if the 
water supply be not abundant. An ordinary day labourer can mix 
pure clay in a mason's shallow, wooden mortar-box, chop it with a 
spade if it be lumpy, sparingly moisten and then pound it with a 
wooden maul until it is of the proper consistency to be beaten on to 

n8 The American Flower Garden 

the sides and bottom of the pond to the depth of three or four inches. 
After it has been well tamped, let him tamp it yet again. A coating 
of beach sand and pebbles over the clay bottom is desirable where 
they may be had. Spread over the soil in the bottom of any 
pond, natural or artificial, they prevent the manure and other 
rubbish from rising through the water, which should be clear as a 
mirror always. 

Cement will be used where there is no clay available for 
lining the artificial pond, especially where the soil is naturally 
sandy and mixed with gravel, through which Niagara itself 
would drain through to China. For the pools and wide 
canals of frankly formal gardens concrete is indispensable. After 
a carpenter has made the wooden frame for the circle, ellipse, 
square or whatever shape is desired for the pool, it is a simple 
matter for the village mason to pour mixed cement and sand into it. 
Some very beautiful effects have been obtained with aquatic plants 
in artificial basins, notably at the great expositions in Chicago and 
St. Louis; but generally speaking, lotuses, water lilies and their 
associates are best adapted to the naturalistic method of treatment 
on home grounds. 

From the artistic standpoint, the artificial pond is usually 
sadly handicapped, but from that of the practical grower of choice 
aquatics there are undeniable advantages in having cultural 
conditions under control — in being able to regulate the water 
supply with a spigot, to drain off the water, if necessary. For the 
little sluggish brook that looks so innocent at midsummer, when you 
make your delightful plan, may swell into a raging, obstreperous 
torrent next spring, tear away your wild garden and rockery, scour 
a devastating course through your ineffably precious bog garden, 
undermine the banks and the dam of your pond, and actually 

The Water Garden 119 

cause the death of your pet aquatics by drowning them. One 
cannot prepare too carefully against such a disaster. A dam of 
the most solid construction is the first essential. Open ditches 
and ample drains that are really adequate outlets for the 
water as fast as it enters in time of flood must be provided 
for a pond that is supplied by a brook, but even an artificial 
pond needs to have an outlet for the water which will become 
stagnant and unhealthful if there is not some movement of it 
at times, however slight. The perfectly balanced aquarium is 
not made on so large a scale. 

Aquatics insist upon a very rich and rather heavy soil — about 
one-third cow manure to two parts of well rotted sods is not too 
hearty a diet for these voracious feeders. It has been noted that 
flowers of especially fine colouring are produced where there is an 
intermixture of pure clay with the soil. Wild water lilies may fare 
well enough on decayed leaves and other vegetable matter in the 
mucky bottoms of natural ponds, but the best results are not 
obtained when this simple diet is offered the pampered darlings 
of the French and American hybridisers. Lotuses withhold their 
queenly flowers unless they are abundantly fed. Water poppies, 
papyrus, flowering grasses, bamboo and other companions are not 
so fastidious, but they, too, enjoy good living. 

In autumn, after the canvas for the picture has been prepared, 
as it were, for the painter's brush, begin the planting by setting 
out such hardy deciduous trees and shrubs as have been chosen 
for a background. Evergreens, however, which make the most 
effective windbreak, would better wait until late spring. At the 
risk of harping too much upon one string, let it be said yet again 
that the trees and shrubs that grow naturally in the neighbourhood, 
and so fit in well with the surrounding landscape, are always the 

120 The American Flower Garden 

best to use. Don't plant Colorado blue spruces on the north bank 
of your pond if you live in Massachusetts, nor dwarf Japanese maples 
of brilliant reds and yellows, nor shrubs with variegated leaves, nor 
other exclamation points, in what should be a reposeful, naturalistic 
composition. In any case, don't set out tall growing trees where 
they will shade your pond, which needs all the sunshine possible. 
You may plant much or little on the gently sloping banks, but the 
real test of the artistic treatment of any water garden is the soft- 
ening or effacing of the line where land and water meet. Grindling 
Gibbons spent two years carving a frame for a mirror. Nature 
bestows her most deft and delicate touches upon water margins. 
She has a large class of exquisite amphibious plants for her mirror 
frames — the flowering sedges, irises, marsh marigolds, rushes, 
meadow-rue, forget-me-nots, fringy ferns, the white-blossomed 
arrow-head and the blue spiked pickerel weed, water-clover, the 
great blue lobelia, next of kin to the gorgeous cardinal flower, jewel 
weed, boneset, elm-leaved goldenrod, eupatorium, a swamp wild 
rose (R. Carolina), and a host of others. Whoever possesses an old 
pond, with its own precious edge fringed with the luxuriant growth 
that springs out of alluvial soil, has more done for him than he 
who need not attempt to imitate it can realise. Although he may 
add to nature's list of plants for his special section the decorative 
Eulalia grasses, erianthus, the stately Japanese irises and aquatic 
plants from the five continents, it is doubtful if he add thereby to 
the artistic result. Only where the pond adjoins a garden do the 
ordinary garden flowers look well about it — poppies, foxgloves, 
larkspurs, and their familiar associates, boldly planted. Just as 
in the Latin language an adjective must agree with its noun in 
gender, number, and case, so must a garden, aquatic or otherwise, 
agree with its environment. It would be as futile to attempt a 

The Water Garden 121 

naturalistic pond in the centre of a smooth shaven lawn as to place 
a classic Roman Nymphaeum in the midst of a wild garden. 

But what water garden was ever complete without its golden- 
hearted, waxy-white and exquisitely tinted water lilies floating 
on the surface among their disc-like leaves of bronze, copper, and 
mahogany? To secure flowers of the hardy Nymphaeas the 
same season, plant as early in the spring as the rhizomes show 
signs of growth, or at any later time until September to establish 
plants whose bloom is not expected until the following year. No 
matter in what depth of water a plant has grown previously, its 
hollow, rubber-like stems readily adapt themselves to new con- 
ditions, and although submerged two feet when set out, it will send 
up its leaves to the sun and air on the surface in an incredibly 
short time. Where it is possible to, control the supply of water, 
increase the depth of the pond gradually and so keep it warm, 
thereby insuring a more rapid growth for the plants. 

Lotuses (Nelumbo) should not be put in a small pond 
where choice water lilies are growing unless the latter, at least, 
are confined within tubs or partitions separating them from the 
greedy lotus tubers ever pushing about through the soft rich muck 
seeking what they may devour. The great round lotus leaves held 
up high above the surface would as effectually keep off the sun 
from the water lilies as so many big green umbrellas. It is some- 
times necessary to anchor the roots of both water lilies and lotuses 
with bricks or stones before growth starts, lest they rise from their 
soft muddy bed and float away. 

In the Northern states lotus tubers are often started indoors, 
and the tubs or hogsheads are dropped into the pond several weeks, 
perhaps, after the more hardy Nymphaeas were planted out; but, 
once established, lotuses withstand very severe winters, provided 

122 The American Flower Garden 

their roots do not freeze. Of all aquatic plants, perhaps they 
most resent being transplanted and interfered with. Where water 
is drained out of ponds and basins in winter, a thick covering of 
stable litter and autumn leaves, confined with branches, gives them 
and the water lilies all necessary protection. Tender tropical 
water lilies may never be trusted in the open until settled warm 
weather would make it quite safe to set out begonias. They, too, 
may be started indoors, preferably in the tubs or crates where they 
are to grow through the summer, and stored in a cellar or green- 
house during the winter. Where one has a pond large enough 
to grow the gigantic Victoria regia, it may be planted out at the 
same time as the tender Nymphaeas after it has made a good 
start under glass. Not even a gypsy camp in a neighbourhood 
will attract more visitors. 

Although the lotus was sacred to the ancient Egyptians, it 
is only about fifty years ago that it, or indeed any aquatic plants, 
began to find their way into our affections and our gardens, and 
very slowly at first It was not until the magnificent display at 
the World's Fair, Chicago, that people realised what a great wealth 
of beauty lies within our easy reach. Even now, many have 
quite erroneous ideas concerning them — for example, that only 
the rich may enjoy them, that artificial heat is necessary for all, 
and that deep, warm running water and an expert gardener to 
look after them are among their numerous wants. As a matter 
of fact, the hardy aquatics are as easily grown as potatoes. The 
booklets given away by the reliable dealers who make a specialty of 
aquatics furnish all necessary information concerning their simple 
culture. Even the tender, tropical water plants are less trouble- 
some than many popular favourites — show chrysanthemums, 
for example. Lively times with trap and gun may be in store 

ine water Garden 123 

for the grower of water lilies and lotuses before he has conquered 
their most troublesome foe, the water rat. Aphides may sometimes 
leave the rose bushes to suck the juicy young lotus stems, but 
strong spraying with a hose washes them off and kills many. If 
they are very persistent, however, it will be necessary to powder 
the plants with tobacco dust which, it is true, makes them 
unsightly for a time. If there is a small boy in the family 
who can be hired to collect lady-bugs and pasture them upon 
the aphides, for which they have an insatiable desire, it is an 
easy solution of what, at its worst, is a small difficulty. Frogs 
and water snails should be encouraged wherever aquatics are 

As for gold fish, they are indispensable. Hardy enough to 
live out in our northern ponds that never freeze to their total 
depth, the beautiful fish multiply astonishingly with no care what- 
ever. The feathery submerged part of the water hyacinth is a 
favourite place for depositing their spawn. With the larvae of 
the mosquito that can develop only in water and which gold fish 
devour by the million, they eradicate the last reasonable objection 
to having a water garden near one's home. Without them on 
constant patrol, it might readily become a resort for the 
malaria-spreading pest. They are our foremost allies every- 
where — even in rain barrels — against the mosquito. Carp 
in pools near castle, monastery and palace, were favourite pets 
of feudal lords, monks and kings in mediaeval days. Gold fish, 
the carp's rich relations, may be tamed even more readily to eat 
from the hand. 

A water garden, however small, is worth having if only to 
attract the birds near one's home. How they delight in it! How 
they sing! Many visitors must travel miles for a drink on a hot day. 

124 The American Flower Garden 

But perhaps they enjoy a splashing bath on the lily pads even more. 
From matins until evensong there is not an hour of the day when 
you cannot enjoy the visits of robins, catbirds and thrushes that 
are perhaps the most appreciative bathers among your many less 
familiar and more shy bird neighbours to whom water is the 
surest means of introduction. 

Where a single Indian lotus might lift its great round leaves 
high above the water, catching the rain drops that roll about on 
them like so many balls of quicksilver ; where its big pink, pointed 
buds might expand into golden-hearted flowers of Oriental splen- 
dour, and later, when the odd seed vessels might appear, I wonder 
how any one could forego so much beauty, even if only a tub at 
one's doorstep might be its humble habitation. 

What Are Best of the True Water Lilies 

Brydon's (Nympheea James Brydon). Red. Strongest growing plant 
among the hardy red water lilies. Day bloomer. Good for cut 
flowers. Very early and floriferous. Sterile. 

Cape Cod Lily (N. odorata, var. rosea). Even pink. Flowers 3 
to 7 inches. Opening 6 a.m., closing at noon, but sepals remain 
open. Shy bloomer. Does not thrive south of Philadelphia. 
2 to 4 feet of water. 

Chinese Pigmy Water Lily (TV. tetragona). White. Smallest grow- 
ing hardy water lily. June, September. Opens noon, closes at 
five o'clock. Flowers 2 inches across, star-like. Leaves dark 
green with dull red beneath. 1 to 3 feet of water. 

Dazzling White Lily (N. alba, var. candidissimd). Snowy white. 
Nearly odourless. June till frost. For depths 2 to 5 feet where 
the common pond lily cannot grow. Exceedingly strong and 
hardy. Day bloomer. Sterile. 

Devon (2V. Devoniensis). Red. Best night-blooming water lily of 
its colour. Petals ovate 4 to 5 inches long. Not so expanded as 
O'Mara's. Very free blooming. Produces a number of lateral 
crowns. A single plant may cover two hundred square feet. 

The Water Garden 125 

Gladstone's (N. Gladstoniand). White. Hardy, day bloomer. 
Scentless; 8 inches in diamteer. Petals forming a glistening 
sphere from early morning till 3 p.m. Enduring four days. Not 
very free flowering, but quite hardy and strong growing. Must 
have three or four shoots for continuous bloom. 1 to 2 feet of 

Gracilis (N. fiavo-virens). The N. gracilis of the American trade, 
but differing from the plant of that name in the European trade. 
Dull white, star-shaped; narrow pointed petals. Sepals pure 
green. Sweetly scented, opening three successive days from early 
morning till six at night. I foot above the water. Easily raised 
by seeds or tubers. The commonest and best tender white day 

Huster's (N. George Huster). Best very dark red night-blooming. 
Tender. Deeper flower than the Devon lily; 8 to 10 inches across. 
Otherwise like O'Mara's. Strong growing. Free bloomer. 

Laydeker's (N. Laydekeri varieties). For small spaces, 2 to 4 feet 

square, and for very shallow water. (var. fulgens). Magenta. 

(var. lilacea). Rosy lilac. (var. purpurea). Purplish. 

opening after nine o'clock. (var. rosea). Pink; most flori- 

ferous small pink. None of this class produces seed. 

Marliac Lilies (N. Marliacea varieties). (var. albida). White, 

similar to Gladstone's lily; rank growing. Leaves and flowers 

often carried above the water. (var. earned). Light pearly 

pink and var. rosea, deep rose, are both of identical habit. 

(var. igned). Flowers deep red with cardinal stamens, floating, 

leaves blotched brown, deepest coloured hardy red. (var. 

chromatelld). Most floriferous yellow, hardy, very double; early 
flowering. All these are good for small water gardens. Chroma- 
tella is the hardiest and most satisfactory of all the hardy lilies. 
June till frost. Leaves and flowers grow above water if crowded. 
Also good for cut flowers. 

O'Mara's (N. Omarana). Brilliant purple red. Glowing in the sun- 
shine. Narrow white stripe in each petal. Flowers 1 foot across. 
Stamens brownish red. Blooms July till frost. Leaves bronzy red. 
The most splendid night-blooming water lily. Flowers I foot 
above the surface. Good for cutting. 

126 The American Flower Garden 

Pink Pigmy (N. Laydekeri, var. rosed). Pink. Similar to Chinese white 
pigmy in size, habit, and leaf. Free flowering. More cup shaped. 
Colour deepens with age from shell pink to carmine rose. Very 
shallow water. 

Pond Lily (N. odorata). White. Unequalled for fragrance, but not 
so free flowering as some others. For large ponds. Hardy. Day 
bloomer. Flowers 2 to 5 inches. Good for cutting. , South- 
ern (var. giganted). White. Strongly scented, 3 to 6 inches 
across. For water up to 8 or 10 feet. Leaves 1 foot; round. A 

large odorata. , Lesser (var. minor). White. A diminutive 

odorata. The best water lily for shallows, and will even stand com- 
plete drying. Flowers 1 to 3 inches. , Yellow (var. sulphured). 

Best hardy yellow for shallows. Opening from 7 to 8 a.m. Best 
for cutting. 

Red Gracilis (N. flavo-virens, var. rubra). Deep pink, approaching 
red. Petals narrow, tapering. Flower star-like. Tender. Day 
blooming. Best tender red day bloomer. 1 foot above water. 

Richardson's (N. tuberosa, var. Richardsoni). Most double of all 
the white water lilies. Odourless. Does best in about 3 feet of 
water. Flowers form a very delicate rosette. Floating. 

Robinson's (N. Robinsoni). Red. Outer petals yellowish. Flowers 
floating and leaves with a notch on border of the sinus. Oldest 
and best known of the yellow-red water lilies. Free flowering but 
not spreading rapidly. Hardy. Good for cut flowers. 

Seignorette's (N. Seignoretti). Excellent companion to Robinson's 
water lily but with flowers standing six inches above the water 
and leaf not notched. 

Sturtevant's (N. Sturtevantii). Bright pink, with brownish orange 
stamens. Night blooming. Requires high temperature. Most 
massive in both flower and foliage. Flowers 1 foot in diameter. 
Leaves becoming bronze with age. 

Victoria, or Giant Amazon {Victoria Cruziand). The largest of all 
aquatics, leaves 6 feet across; flowers 1 foot; white, becoming pink 
on second day. Needs a warmed pond, but has borne seed out- 
doors at Philadelphia. Better than the more tender V. Regia, 
which it closely resembles. Needs special pools. Raise annually 
from seed. 

The Water Garden 127 

White Night (Nymphcea dentatd). Pure white; 8 to 10 inches 
across. The petals make a ring at right angles to the petiole 
with central erect yellow stamens. Curiously stiff looking, like 
a short yellow candle in a white saucer. Var. grandiflora with 
wider petals, var. magnified largest of all, var. superba with more 
numerous petals. 

White Pigmy. See Chinese White Pigmy. 

Yellow Pigmy (N. tetragona, var. Helvola). Yellow. Similar to the 
white pigmy, but leaves are heavily blotched with reddish brown. 
Hardy at Washington. Shy bloomer. 3 feet of water. 

Zanzibar {N. Zanzibariensis). Royal blue. Tender. Day bloomer. 
Flowers 10 inches across; 8 to 10 inches above the water on stout 
stalks. Broad, blunt petals, anthers golden. Opening from three 
to five days 1 1 a.m. to 5 p.m. The best of all the water lilies, adapt- 
ing itself to all sorts of conditions, flowering even in a small pot. 
July till frost. Var. azure a sky blue; var. rosea rose pink. Under 
sides of the leaves are coloured similarly to the flowers in each case. 

Desirable Adjunct Plants for the Water Garden 

(Swamp Mallow, Loosestrife, Cardinal Flower, Meadow Rue, and many other plants 
named in the list of Natives for the Wild Garden and suitable for moist and wet soils can be 
used on the margins of the water garden. Reference should also be made to many plants 
enumerated in Herbaceous Perennials. They are indicated by (*) in both lists.) 

The flowering season is given as for New York, generally, and will of course vary 
North or South. 

Bladderwort (Utricularia purpurea). Submerged leaves bear blad- 
ders which trap insects. Purple flowers, quite showy in early 

summer. , Common (U. vulgaris.) Yellow flowers. Floats 

freely near the surface. Both require very still water. 

Bog Rush (Juncus effusus). Round dark-green stems. For marshy 
places. 2 to 4 feet. 

Brooklime (Veronica Americana). Creeping plant for edges of brooks 
and ponds, making sheets of pale blue flowers. April to Septem- 
ber. Leaves rounded. 4 to 6 inches high. 

Bulrush, Cat-tail (Typha latifolia). 2 to 4 feet. For pool margins 
and still waters. Flowers borne in dense brown spike 6 inches 
long. For massing plant 2 feet apart. The best plant of its kind 
for this purpose. Summer. 

128 The American Flower Garden 

Cabomba (C. Caroliniana). Submerged. Luxuriant plumes I to 2 
feet long. Hardy in two feet of water at Philadelphia. Com- 
monest plant for aquaria. 

Calla, Spotted (Richardia albo-maculata). For margins; 2 feet. 

Leaves dark green with silvery spots. Flowers creamy yellow. 

2 inches wide. Best spotted leaved plant. 
Floating Heart (Limnanthemum lacunosurri). Floating, ovate. 

Blotched or mottled. 2 inches broad. Attractive quite regardless 

of the white flowers borne all summer. Pools and still water. 

2 feet deep. 

Forget-Me-Not. See Herbaceous Plants, p. 221. 

Giant Reed (Arundo Donax). Boldest tall growing grass for semi- 
wild and tropical effects. 15 feet and, rarely, up to 30 feet. Looks 
like a giant corn. Variegated form less hardy than the type and 
dwarfer. Var. macrophylla is glaucous. Will grow where pampas 
grass is not hardy. Propagate by ripe canes laid on wet moss in 

Horn Fern (Ceratopteris thalictroides). For shallow water. Sterile 
fronds feathery, light green, 10 to 15 inches. New plants produced 
wherever these fronds fall into the water. Annual. Propagate 
by spores in water. 

Iris, Yellow (Iris Pseudacorus). Yellow, long strap-like leaves. 

May-July; 2 feet. For marshes and banks. , Japanese 

(/. lavigata). Excellent for big floral effects. See also Her- 
baceous Plants, page 223. 

Lotus, American (Nelumbo luted). Creamy white, 10 inches in 
diameter; 3 to 4 feet above water. July, August. Excellent for 
wild waters; roots spread freely. Rich earth under 4 to 12 inches of 

water. Enclose roots in brick tank. Transplant in spring. , 

Pink (N. nucifera, or speciosuni). Similar in all respects to the 
foregoing, except in pink flowers. There are many varieties of 
this: rosea, deep rose, single and double; Shiroman, white double; 
Kinshiren, dwarfer, double. Species is more hardy than the 

Marsh Marigold (Caltha palustris). Bright yellow. May; 12 to 
15 inches. Good for sun or shade, on banks or in brooks up to 
4 inches deep. Plant 1 foot apart. Double form and dwarf form. 

The Water Garden 129 

Papyrus (Cyperus Papyrus). Soft and grass-like leaves a foot long 
on top of each stalk, like a large umbrella plant. Tender; take 
up after first frost in autumn to warm well-lighted tank; 4 to 6 feet 

Parrot's Feather (Myriophyllum proserpinacoides). Slender feathery 
plumes, very finely divided; 6 to 8 inches long. Roots in the earth 
at the margin, and makes the brightest green tuft over the water. 
Winter by putting a few pieces in a bottle of water. 

Pickerel Weed (Pontederia cordata). Blue. 8 to 12 inches above the 
water. In water 1 foot deep. See also Native Plants, page 94. 

Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea). 6 to 8 inches, with flower stalk 
18 inches. Leaves tubular, pitcher-like, and curved; greenish 
with reddish purple veins. For very wet borders. Flowers deep 

Sweet Flag (Acorus Calamus). For shallow lake, or wet places. 
3 feet high. Light green leaves. Flowers yellow. Leaves die 
at the top after spring growth, sometimes giving a very ragged 
effect. A. gramineus and var. variegatus, similar but dwarfer. 

Thalia (Thalia divaricata). Broad oval leaves 1 foot long resembling 
canna leaves; 6 feet above. Will grow in a tub. Winter in warm 
tank or half dry in a cool house. Flowers insignificant. 

Umbrella Plant (Cyperus alternifolius). 3 feet. Similar to the 
common umbrella plant of the greenhouses, which is in truth a smaller 
variety. Easily propagated by division of the roots or by the leaf 
cut off and inserted in water. 

Water Arum (Calla palustris). For banks. 6 inches. Mulch with 
sphagnum moss. Resembles common calla. 

Water Arum (Peltandra Virginica). Arrow-shaped calla-like leaves. 
6 inches long. Green spathe 6 inches long in May, June; 1 foot 
above water. Green berries when ripe. Plant in mud under one 
foot of water. 

Water Clover (Marsilea quadrifolia). For pond edges. Growing 
in the earth or floating. Looks like a four-leaved clover. Useful 
for hiding pond margin. 

Water Cress (Nasturtium officinale). For margins of clear streams 
6 to 8 inches. Flowers white, small, all summer. Easily raised 
from seed or cuttings. Good cover to keep fish cool. 

130 The American Flower Garden 

Water Hyacinth (Eichhorniaspeciosd). Floats, or in water up to 
2 feet. 1 8 inches. Leaves 5 inches in diameter with inflated 
stalks. Flowers violet in spikes 8 inches long. Spreads rapidly, 
must be restricted by wooden pen. A weed South. 

Water Poppy (Limnocharis Humboldti). Yellow. All summer; 6 
inches. Floating leaves 3 inches across. Flowers borne singly, 
as big as the leaves, and above, last one day. Resembles Cali- 
fornia poppy. Tender. Plant in shallow water. 

Water Shield (Brasenia peltata). Floating. Leaves entire, 1 to 3 
inches, broad, greenish, or purplish. Flowers dull purple appearing 
above the surface. Plant in 1 to 6 feet of water. 

Note. — The experiences of leading growers and students have been drawn on in 
compiling the foregoing, viz.: Prof. H. S. Conard, H. Hus, W. Tricker, and P. Bisset. 


"We find our most soothing companionship in trees among which we have 
lived, some of which we ourselves may have planted. We lean against them and 
they never betray our trust; they shield us jrom the sun and from the rain; their 
spring welcome is a new birth which never loses its freshness, they lay their beau- 
tiful robes at our feet in autumn; in winter they stand and wait, emblems of patience 
and of truth, for they hide nothing, not even the little leaf-buds which hint to us 
of hope, the last element in their triple symbolism." — Dr. O. W. Holmes 



WHAT place have trees in a flower garden ? Will they 
not rob the lesser plants of food and drink, 
stifle them with shade, and ultimately strangle 
them to death ? 

At the outset, it must be confessed that few trees could be 
admitted within the garden proper, only those smaller ones which, 
like the boxwood, the bay, the laburnum, the lesser magnolias and 
dwarf evergreens, have a decorative value not overbalanced by their 
destructiveness to flowering plants. But in a larger sense the 
garden picture includes both its background and its frame, 
and as it would be difficult indeed to make a really good one 
without trees which serve most effectively for both, perhaps 
no apology for including them in this book is necessary. To 
break the sky line, to give diversity of outline and colour at 
different seasons, to increase the interest of the home grounds, 
to unite the house and its garden with the surrounding land- 
scape, to form windbreaks and boundary belts, to afford shelter 
and shade, to screen off unsightly places, to emphasise the 
height of a hill top, to draw the eye toward a lovely view, to 
improve the quality of the atmosphere around a dwelling, to 
furnish masses of bloom, to attract birds that will keep insect 
pests in check and sing while they work for you, to make a 
place comfortable and beautiful in winter as well as in summer 
— these ends are not by any means all that may be accom- 


134 The American Flower Garden 

plished by intelligent tree planting. And nothing about a home 
fosters quite so much sentiment as a tree. 

" Let dead names be eternised in dead stone, 
But living names by living shafts be known: 
Plant thou a tree whose leaves shall sing 
Thyself and thee each fresh, recurring spring." 

It is a pleasant custom for each member of the family and the 
dearest of the family's friends to set out trees on the home grounds. 
To right-thinking people they stand for something far finer than so 
much nursery stock. In public parks trees are planted by dis- 
tinguished men who visit the city and often acquire historic value 
as the years go by. A patriotic citizen recently paid over a thou- 
sand dollars to an expert to prolong the life of the splendid old 
"Liberty Tree" at Annapolis by pruning it, chiselling out the 
decayed wood, filling its enormous cavities with tons of cement, 
and supplying the exhausted soil around it with fresh nourishment. 
Sentiment persists in clinging to a tree like moss to its bark. 

From the practical and the pictorial points of view we have 
been slow in learning that the evergreens, as a class, are the most 
useful. We shall never be able to live out of doors the greater 
part of the year, as the Europeans live in their gardens, until the 
value of trees that keep their leaves all winter is far more generally 
recognised. The old gardens of Italy are not only the most 
beautiful in the world, but the most comfortable at all seasons, 
because trees and shrubs that are permanently green and shelter- 
ing are their basis. And yet, with a far greater variety of them at 
our disposal than any Old World garden maker had four centuries 
ago, we are only just beginning to utilise them as we might for 
wind-breaks, screens, and hedges. Of course, trees with dense 
foliage should never be set out in the path of the prevailing summer 

Trees 135 

breezes; but many a house that is bleak and draughty in winter 
might be made quite comfortable, and with an actual saving of 
fuel, if evergreens suited to the conditions were planted on the 
north and east exposures or wherever the keenest blasts come from. 
And if they make for comfortable living indoors in winter, how 
much more enjoyment may be had out in the home grounds where 
they are freely planted! Some day we shall be wise enough to 
use evergreens as wind-breaks even for our cow and poultry yards, 
that the stock may live more comfortably and healthfully in the 
open air. 

In the lee of a group of evergreens the superb large flowered 
magnolia of the South has attained great size so far north as 
Long Island, but it becomes deciduous there. The late Charles 
A. Dana grew to perfection at Dosoris many rare and beautiful 
exotics that would certainly have been winter-killed without the 
protection of evergreen guardians. No plant, however hardy, can 
attain its best if whipped and lashed by the wind. Even a veg- 
etable garden will bear almost a fortnight earlier if an evergreen 
hedge surrounds it. Tall spruce, hemlock, arborvitae, juniper or 
other evergreen hedges serve best to partition off an out-of-door 
living-room open to the zenith, into which sunshine pours, and 
the purest air, made actually warmer because of the trees, 
circulates to every corner without causing a draught. The 
comfort of such a cosy enclosure would astonish one who had 
never tested it. Now that the fresh air cure is being prescribed 
for most of the ills that flesh is heir to, worn and weary people 
will enjoy more and more the seclusion and comfort and fragrant 
purity of such living-rooms. They are ideal playgrounds for 
children. The baby that spends most of the time between sunrise 
and sunset in the open air, snugly sheltered from wind and cold, 

136 The American Flower Garden 

makes the best possible start in life. Long ago we might have 
learned the value of evergreens from the birds that prefer them 
to all other trees as sleeping and nesting places. 

In an emotional moment of "civic improvement" we were 
advised to take down our front fences and hedges, throw open our 
lawns and share with the public all the beauty of our home grounds, 
or be branded as selfish and undemocratic. The family life that 
should be lived as much as possible under the open sky, when 
rudely exposed to public gaze, must become either vulgarly brazen 
or sensitively shy, in which latter case it withdraws to the vine- 
enclosed piazza or to the house itself. There is a vast difference 
between the Englishman's insultingly inhospitable brick wall, 
topped with broken bottles, and an American's encircling belt of 
trees around his home grounds, or the tall hedge around his garden 
room to ensure that privacy without which the perfect freedom of 
home life is no more possible than if the family living-room were to 
be set on a public stage. The busy mistress of the house needs 
every encouragement to run out and work a while among her 
flowers without feeling that her unfashionable dress and tucked up 
petticoat are exciting the comment of passers-by. Thanks to the 
shielding evergreens, the young people may have rough and 
tumble play on the lawn, the father may feel free to don overalls 
and paint the garden chairs if the humour seize him, and the 
entire family, safely sheltered from curious eyes, may frequently 
enjoy a meal out of doors with perfect freedom and naturalness. 
The plainest fare has zest when eaten al fresco. 

If suburban and country houses and stables are not to look 
bare and cheerless and ugly after the deciduous trees and shrubs 
have shed their leaves, as so very many do, evergreens need 
to be freely used in the boundary planting, on the lawn, and 

Trees 137 

for hedges and screens around the drying ground and service 
departments. Everywhere they are the main stay, the basis for 

But trees, like people, have their good and bad points, and 
one cannot be too discriminating when it comes to choosing either 
for near neighbours. In those melancholy Puritanic days when 
cheerfulness was deemed akin to sin, there was a certain fitness in 
planting sombre evergreens in the dooryard where they shut out 
from the house the weak sunshine of a New England winter. 
For this position the Norway spruce, among the first trees imported, 
was usually chosen. It is good-looking only in its youth. Pres- 
ently its lower limbs begin to die off, it becomes thin, ragged, 
unhappy, depressing, and in this condition it is undoubtedly 
responsible for much of whatever prejudice against evergreens 
exists. The vigorous white spruce, on the other hand, forms a 
broad-based, conical tree, densely clothed with cheerful bluish- 
green, short, sharp needles from its tapering tip to where its spread- 
ing branches sweep the ground. So hardy is it that in mass 
planting it may be used as a bulwark against storms, even along 
the sea coast. One might think that a spruce which is hardy in 
one place might be equally so in another. Not so. The Douglas 
spruce, of softer texture and more graceful outline than the white 
spruce, making it more desirable for a lawn specimen, was killed 
to the snow line when imported from France after having lived 
through six moderate winters; but the same species, brought 
from the higher altitudes of Colorado, never lost a leaf in the severe 
winters of 1903-4. It is important to know the source of the 
stock you buy. The glaucous silvery sheen of the Colorado blue 
spruce, that sprang so suddenly into public favour, looks as if the 
trees were covered with hoar frost when the exquisite new growth 

138 The American Flower Garden 

scintillates in the sun. To light up a dark corner of the lawn, to 
run up the colour scale of a group of darker spruce and firs to a 
high, accented note, this tree strikes, perhaps, the most effective 
crescendo. But how sadly misused it is! Sometimes one could 
almost wish that it, like the over-planted crimson rambler, had 
never been introduced. These few spruces named illustrate how 
important it is to really know various members of even the most 
familiar tree tribe, their defects and merits, their uses and abuses, 
before installing them as neighbours about your home. 

If the yew and holly are the best evergreens for England 
because, being native, they thrive there to perfection, so our spruce, 
hemlock, arborvitae, pine and junipers are best for us to use 
as a basis for other planting. On the solid foundation of our native 
trees we may build the lighter superstructure and embellish it, 
according to fancy, with details from the ends of the earth; but 
let us not forget the enormous sums of American money wasted 
on European evergreens — on English yews alone. After exhaust- 
ing the possibilities of our beautiful native trees, our hope lies in 
those from lands with climatic conditions, similar to our own, no- 
tably Siberia, China and Japan. The Korean yew (Cepbalotaxus 
pedunculata, var. fastigiata), the Japanese yew (Taxus cuspidata) 
and their varied forms, with rich, dark, lustrous, dense, almost 
solid foliage that withstands intense cold and the brightest sun, 
promise to be the valuable ones for our landscape work years after 
the English and Irish yews, once so extensively planted, have 
perished miserably almost everywhere except in a few favoured 
places in the Middle South. We have to thank the Orient for 
most of the charming little retinisporas, the green and gold lace 
and embroidery among trees, that we most enjoy when planted 
close to the foundations of our houses, massed in corners, in 


l rees 139 

carriage turn-arounds, and along the edges of groups of taller 
evergreens on the lawn. 

A mixture of incongruous growths is apt to be the worst 
mistake of the tyro who choses the novelties of the nurseryman's 
catalogue so beguilingly described and then tries to reconcile the 
trees to the requirements of his place. Very rarely does he think 
of reversing the operation. After the experienced landscape 
gardener has drawn to scale a plan of the area to be beautified, he 
makes an inventory of what nature offers in the region, not only 
because the native trees will thrive best, but because they most 
fittingly tie a new place to the surrounding landscape, making it an 
integral part of the region at once. These will be the first on his 
list when he visits nurseries to select and tag stock. But not a 
tree will be ordered whose place is not already assigned on his 
drawn and redrawn plan. It is so much easier to rectify mistakes, 
and so much less expensive to shift tree belts, hedges, screens, 
masses of trees and fine isolated specimens on paper than with 
gangs of Italians and big tree-movers. The knowledgeable gar- 
dener with taste, who plants trees with a careful consideration for 
each of soil, situation, and climate, is an indispensable economy to 
the inexperienced patron. Even comfortably poor people cannot 
well afford not to consult him if they did but realise their own 
limitations and his worth. 

For formal touches, no other hardy evergreens will reproduce 
in this country the effect of the Italian cypress so well as the red 
juniper, or so-called cedar (Juniperus Virginiana), and the artist- 
gardener uses hedges, screens, and arches of it as well as the tall, 
tapering, spire-like specimens that pierce the sky. In another 
locality the columnar arborvitae, the true white cedar of the 
Northern States (Thuya occidentalism var. pyramidalis), might serve 

140 The American Flower Garden 

to repeat the classic lines of pilasters and columns. He may 
wish to make comfortable and beautiful a bleak hill-top where it is 
advisable to place the house for the sake of a superb view, and he 
will probably mass there the tall white pines whose far-flung, 
horizontal branches, hung with needles, will shred the wind into 
music like an iEolian harp, while subtly robbing it of its power. 
Or he may group the Nordmann's fir, Veitch's and the white fir 
{Abies concolor), all worthy of honourable place, knowing that a 
variety of trees of the same genus usually gives greater satisfaction 
than a collection of unrelated species. But he would never put 
in an exposed, high, dry, windy situation the feathery, graceful 
hemlocks that demand exactly opposite conditions to develop their 
finest possibilities. For rock work and ground carpets he uses 
prostrate junipers and dwarf pine. 

After the foundations of comfort and beauty, as it were, have 
been laid on a place by means of evergreens, there will be bewilder- 
ing opportunities to use deciduous trees for filling in the boundary 
belts, lining drives and paths, shading the tennis-court and beauti- 
fying the lawn. Shall large trees be bought or young nursery 
stock ? Unfortunate indeed are the people who take possession 
of a new home without a few well-grown trees upon it. The des- 
perate hurry, the nervous restlessness of the times in which we 
live give little encouragement to planting for posterity; therefore 
we have devised big tree movers to shift specimens to our grounds 
from anywhere within hauling distance. This is work for experts 
only, who must be employed at considerable expense and at no 
little risk. Perhaps the gambling element that is involved in such 
an enterprise only adds to its fascination. So great is the shock 
of root-pruning and adjusting itself to a new environment that my 
fine large pin oak, after struggling against the odds and living in a 

irees 141 

half-hearted way for two years, finally gives up the struggle, in 
spite of thinning out its branches, wrapping its trunk with straw, 
watering, mulching and every other kind of coddling an anxious 
owner can devise ; while your oak, bought at the same nursery and 
planted under exactly the same conditions, may never know it was 
moved. For giving a softening touch, a settled look to a bald new 
house, reconciling it at once to the landscape, nothing is so helpful 
as a good sized tree. The one that can be planted very near a 
dwelling, and not exclude the light and air from its living-rooms, 
is the high-arching elm. How well our forefathers understood 
the use of this most graceful tree ! 

On large estates it pays to own the apparatus for moving 
big trees; or, neighbours and improvement societies may well 
combine to buy one. One enthusiastic amateur has reduced the 
percentage of loss to less than 5 per cent, of all the trees he moves, 
and, so daring has he grown, that he no longer root-prunes a tree 
before lifting it, nor hesitates to transfer a horse chestnut in full 
bloom from one part of his estate to another. When he already 
owns the trees, he estimates that it costs him twenty dollars apiece 
to move specimens for which a nursery that grew them would be 
obliged to charge several hundred dollars. Tree bargains may 
be picked up from neighbouring farms if a moving apparatus can 
be hired. Willows and poplars adapt themselves to new environ- 
ment with alacrity, maples quite readily, oaks less willingly and 
beeches and white birches sulkily unless transplanted in youth. 
Owing to the enormous weight of the balls of earth that must be 
lifted with evergreens, it is not possible to move such large speci- 
mens as may be safely attempted among deciduous trees from 
whose roots the soil may be shaken out. Even for them, however, 
it is better to lift part of the ball of soil if possible. 

142 The American Flower Garden 

When one cannot afford to move big trees, recourse may be had 
to the fast growing kinds, trees that skim the surface cream of the 
soil, as it were, rather than delve for a living deep down in it. 
Mulching, feeding and frequent watering will cause them to make 
rapid growth, but note how many willows, locusts and poplars are 
uprooted by storms, how many branches of the silver and other 
soft-wood maples are broken by ice and riddled L by borers. 
However necessary it may be to include such trees for swift 
returns on a new place, it must be recognised that their tenure 
is temporary. Permanent satisfaction is derived from the 
sturdy oaks, the hard maples, the lofty, Gothic-arched elm, the 
beeches, graceful, clean and strong, the straight-shafted tulip 
tree, the lemon-scented silver linden, and other trees of slower 
growth but more lasting beauty. The red oak will grow as fast 
as the sugar maple. 

Some trees will be chosen for their blossoms alone. Who 
would forego the loveliness of the dogwood, whose horizontal, 
leafless branches, starred over with large white flowers, thrust 
themselves out from the woodland border in May with abandoned 
grace; or, symmetrically trained by the nurseryman, reconcile 
themselves to a conventional lawn ? But long before the dogwood 
blossoms whiten the landscape, the lovely tribe of magnolias 
begins its unrivalled floral effects that may be prolonged three 
months — from March to August — in the vicinity of New York. 
The Reverend Mr. Hall, a missionary returning from China many 
years ago, brought with him several specimens of a low-growing 
magnolia with exquisite, star-like, narrow-petalled, delicately 
fragrant white flowers, that he offered to many nurserymen in this 
country if only they would pay the transportation charges. All 
declined, until finally the late Mr. Parsons, of Flushing, took them 


Trees 143 

off his hands, propagated a stock from them, and introduced to the 
Western world Hall's magnolia {M. stellata), the earliest showy 
flower we have and one of the loveliest. This low-growing bush- 
like tree must not be confused with the Yulan magnolia (M. con- 
spicua), whose large pure white cups are set on the leafless branches 
of a tree that sometimes attains the height of thirty feet. It also 
blooms in early spring. Against a background of evergreens, 
where all trees that flower before their leaves come show to the best 
advantage, these magnolias are especially beautiful. Even the 
peculiar purplish pink of the Judas tree, not a lovely colour of 
itself, almost acquires charm if backed by hemlocks. So exquisite 
are the hybrid varieties of flowering fruit trees — the cherry, peach, 
and crab apple, whose every twig is a garland and whose masses 
of pink and white bloom most adequately express the exuberant 
beauty of spring — that no one with a dollar to invest in pure joy 
would forego one of them. "Sure ye can't see the tree fur the 
flowers on it," said an Irish gardener of Professor Sargent's 
favourite flowering crab. 

If you would attract birds to your grounds, plant the service 
berry (Amelanchier) that happily diverts them from the strawberry 
beds in June; the Russian mulberry, whose cloying sweet fruit 
they have the bad taste to like better, perhaps, than any other; the 
fleecy white-flowered, bird-cherry tree, for whose racemes of blackish 
bitter little pills flocks of cedar-birds, especially, will travel many 
miles; the spiny, large leaved Hercules club (Aralia spinosa) 
sought by the hungry juncos as soon as they arrive from the North; 
the red-berried dogwood and hawthorns, whose flowers one would 
not willingly forego in any case. 

How to make the best use of trees with variegated, weeping 
and freakish foliage is one of the most difficult planting problems, 

144 The American Flower Garden 

albeit the first which the untrained novice usually essays. Probably 
the very worst way to use them is to dot isolated specimens about 
on a lawn — the worst way to plant any kind of tree or shrub — 
but mixed masses of unrelated colours, a Joseph's coat effect in 
foliage, can be awful too. One weeping willow looks well over- 
hanging a little lake, but not fifty willows there. Trees with 
pendulous branches have a special grace, but the deformed freaks 
of the catalogue can spoil any garden picture. Because golden 
retinisporas are beautiful in themselves is no reason for buying 
them unless you have a group of evergreens into whose rich colour 
scale an accented tone is desired, or a dark corner that needs 
lighting up. No foliage is more exquisitely fine nor more richly 
coloured than that of the low-growing, shrub-like Japanese 
maples, yet one never sees them used in American gardens 
so artistically as in the little gardens of Japan, among rocks 
and stunted pines and miniature waterfalls, each small tree 
in perfect harmony of form and colour with its environment. 
Here we are too apt to lose the fine gradations in their colour 
scale, the charming individuality of each, when we make masses 
of maples of many hues in shrubbery borders. A noble speci- 
men of dark copper beech may be the most beautiful ornament 
for a lawn, but even there it need not be wholly unrelated to 
every other colour on the place. Keyed into harmony with dark 
firs or other deep-toned evergreens, the splendour of its ma- 
hogany tints is but the more rich. "I have never seen a 
purple plum tree where it did n't stand out like a sore thumb," 
confessed a well-known landscape gardener. Nevertheless, he 
has learned to use it most effectively as a background for 
flowering peaches, crabs, and blossoming almond and fleecy 
white spireas, for it looks especially well with white or pink 

Trees 145 

flowered shrubs; but it must be confessed that after their bloom 
is past, his old objection to this little dark-leaved tree, so uni- 
versally planted, holds good. 

The brilliant autumnal colouring of trees is as the gift of 
genius in families — one can never be certain where it will appear. 
In a long row of sugar maples at the nursery you may search in 
vain for one of such glorious colouring as any Vermont farmer may 
have beside his door. A red oak tree that is marvellously rich one 
year may" disappoint us sadly the next, when the glistening leaves , 
of the scarlet oak dazzle one with the lambent brightness of flame. 
Whoever revels in colour, as even the most primitive savage does — 
and who, indeed, does not? — will not forget to include in his 
planting list some trees for the sake of their greater glory after 
the flowers are gone. The pepperidge tree and star-leaved sweet 
gum would be desirable if for no other merit than their gorgeous 
autumnal tints. One is grateful to the rugged, sturdy oaks that 
hold their rich mahogany red and russet leaves late into the new 
year — sometimes until the new growth pushes them off. Although 
the larch, a less vigorous relative of the pines and firs, does not 
retain its needle-like leaves after they turn yellow in autumn, 
the feathery light green of its new growth that one touches with a 
caress, and its delicate curving twigs, strung in winter with little 
cones, are so effective against the sky that there are at least two 
excellent reasons for planting it. One never fully appreciates 
the paper whiteness of the birch, the most spirituelle of all trees, 
until it is seen without a leaf to cover it, chaste and purely lovely 
against a background of evergreens. When is the beech tree most 
beautiful — when its fresh green, crinkled and varnished leaves 
burst from their brown pointed sheaths in May, or when one looks 
up through the shining yellow of their gold to a clear, deep-blue 

146 The American Flower Garden 

October sky; or when the smooth, silvery gray trunk and branches 
are softly etched against the snow ? 

The Best of the Ornamental Deciduous Trees for Lawns 

and Gardens 

Ash, Weeping (Fraxinus excelsior, var. pendula). 50 feet. Best tall 
canopy tree. Round-spreading top, forming an ideal shady arbour 
or summer house. Grows rapidly, spreading 50 feet. Give 
ample room for development. Unsuitable for small gardens. 
Attacked by a fungus, but not seriously injured by it. 

Bay, Sweet, Swamp, or White. See Magnolia. 

Beech, American (Fagus ferruginea). , European (F. sylvatica). 

80 feet. The former makes the largest tree, long-lived, with 
smooth, light-gray bark, and remarkably pretty yellowish foliage 
in the spring. Edible nuts. The European beech is more compact, 

slower in growth, and has many varieties: , Fern-Leaved 

(var. heterophylla). Foliage finely cut. The most deeply cut of 
all the beeches; leaves divided clear to the midrib. Young 
leaves tendril-like. Plant in open, where outline is seen against 

the sky. Also desirable near dwelling houses. , Rivers's 

(var. purpurea Riversi). Dark purplish maroon. The best dark- 
leaved tree. Absolutely hardy, while the paler, purple beech is 
not. Branches low down. Grand lawn specimen tree, with sym- 
metrical head. Colour varies, so select dark-coloured specimens, 

which are the hardiest. , Weeping (var. pendula). 50 feet. 

Pendulous, irregularly odd-looking, but not freakish. Branches 
have billowy effect. Slow-growing and long-lived. Can be planted 
in conspicuous places. 

Birch (Betula alba). 80 feet. Small, light-green foliage; silvery, almost 
white, bark. One of the most picturesque trees, but needing a 
background, preferably evergreens; rapid grower even in thin, dry 
soil. Most effective medium-sized tree in the spring. , Cut- 
Leaved (var. pendula laciniata). 65 feet. Most graceful of the 
cut-leaved trees; slender, pendulous branches. The full character 
of this tree is not seen for several years. Leader always erect, giving 
spire-like outline. 

Trees 147 

Catalpa (Catalpa speciosa). 50 feet. White tubular flowers in large, 
showy panicles. June. Quick growing, with clean, furrowed 
bark and large, heart-shaped leaves. Hardy wherever apples 
grow. Flowers after horse chestnut. The long seed pods, looking 
like pencils, scatter seeds in winter. Not so showy as C. bignoniodes, 
but a better-habited tree. Leafs out late. 

Cherry, Flowering (Prunus avium and Cerasus hortensis fl. pi.). 
20 feet. White and pink; flowers an inch and a half across in 
clusters. Among the most graceful of the second-early flow- 
ering trees, the foliage beginning to develop as the flowers 
burst open. Will thrive under conditions that suit the fruiting 
peach or cherry. Double varieties, resembling little roses, last 
longer than the singles. 

Chestnut, Horse (Msculus Hippocastanum). 90 feet. Covered with 
pyramids of flowers in June. Big varnished winter buds; tent-like 
leaves. Always dropping scales, flowers, fruit, or rusty leaves. 
Too dense for streets, and an untidy tree on trim lawns. 

Crab, Bechtel's (Pyrus Ioensis, var. fl. pi.). 30 feet. Pink. May. 
Best of double-flowered ornamental apples; flowers 2 inches across. 
When out of flower looks like an ordinary crab. Needs as much 

spraying as fruit trees. , Flowering (P. floribunda). 15 

feet. May. Most floriferous, early flowering small tree, or 
sometimes a large shrub. The arching branches are strings of 
rose-coloured flowers, seen with leaves. Plant in masses against 
dark background of taller trees. Fruits make good jelly. Spray 
for scale and woolly aphis. For San Jose scale the surest remedy 
is spraying with the lime-sulphur mixture prepared by mixing 15 
to 25 pounds of unslacked lime, 15 pounds of sulphur, and 50 gallons 
of water, combining with heat and spraying on the plants imme- 
diately. More convenient, but a little less efficacious, are special 
preparations of lime-sulphur and of miscible oils, which are merely 
' diluted with water and are then ready for use. Several special 
preparations of this character are offered under proprietary trade 
names; they are practically the same. For all ordinary scales, the 
whale-oil soap solution is satisfactory. Use one to two pounds of 
the soap to one gallon of hot water. 
Cucumber Tree (Magnolia acuminata). One of the best pyramidal 
trees for lawns. (See Magnolia.) 

148 The American Flower Garden 

Cypress, Bald (Taxodium distichum). 60 feet. A comparatively 
narrow, tapering tree, deciduous although coniferous; native of 
swampy lands, where it throws up characteristic knees from its 
roots ; but will grow in dry lands. Particularly well adapted to the 
South. A good tree for narrow streets. 

Dogwood, Flowering (Cornus florida). 30 feet. Big white bracts, 
making flower-like displays in May; particularly showy in wood 
foregrounds. Blooms with magnolias; scarlet berries and foliage 
in fall, also young twigs crimson. Particularly valuable for partially 
shaded as well as fully exposed spots. Var. rubra has bracts of vary- 
ing intensity, from pink to red. 

Elder, Box, Variegated (Acer Negundo, var. argenteo-variegaturri). 
60 feet. Green and white. Best conspicuously variegated-leaved 
hardy tree; rapid grower; little seen. So markedly distinct that it 
is usually used in small sizes only. Not advisable for landscape 

Elm, American or White (Ulmus Americana). 100 feet. Best of our 
native shade trees. Arches high over street or house, leaving good 
space above roof for air and diffused light. Rich bottom land 
preferred. Seriously attacked in certain regions by gipsy moths 
and elm beetles, which defoliate it in August. In regions where the 
elm-leaf beetle is a pest the trees should be sprayed with arsenate of 
lead, which can be prepared thus : Take soda arsenate 4 ounces; lead 
acetate, 12 ounces; water, 16 ounces. Dissolve each salt in half the 
quantity of water; mix, and let stand twelve hours. The precipi- 
tated arsenate of lead is then mixed with 50 gallons of water, and is 
ready for use. This adheres well to the foliage. Spraying should 

be done in May and August. , Camperdown (Ulmus scabra, 

var. pendula). Usually grafted at 8 feet. Canopy-like head forms a 
perfect hollow, dome-like tent, spreading to 30 feet. Very free 
grower. Plant as an isolated specimen on the lawn, where it can be 
used as a summer house or children's playhouse. 

Empress Tree (Paulownia imperialis). 100 feet. Unique, gloxinia- 
like flowers, with vanilla fragrance. Violet. May, before Catalpa. 
Rapid grower. Leaves a foot across. Sprouts from roots. Flower 
buds killed by severe winters North. Seed vessels look ragged. 
Flowers having no background are poorly seen against sky. Hardy 
to New York. 

Trees 149 

Ginkgo. See Maidenhair Tree. 

Hawthorn, English (Crataegus Oxyacantha). 30 feet. White, pink 
to red. June. Perfectly hardy; thrives on dry soil. Stands severe 
trimming. Many varieties, single and double, which are referred to 
another species, C. monogyna, by the hair-splitting botanists. Red 
berries, relished by birds. Clothed with sharp thorns. Very slow 
growing after 10 feet high. Spray for scale. See Crab. 

Hercules Club (Aralia spinosa). 40 feet. Huge, handsome pinnate 
leaves. Flowers fleecy white, in large, broad, clustered panicle, 
followed by dark purple berries in heavy clusters, relished by migrant 
birds in autumn. Blooms in midsummer. One of the most 
showy native trees, except in winter, when its spiny, club-like trunks 

without branches 5 alone remain. , Chinese Angelica (A. 

Chinensis). Similar, with leaves 2 to 3 feet long, and flowering a 
week earlier. 

Hickory (Hicoria alba). 100 feet, or less. Adapted to great range of 
soils. Slow growing and difficult to transplant. Characteristic 
shaggy bark. Open mantle of foliage makes broken shade. 

Laburnum (Laburnum vulgare). 20 feet. Yellow. May. Flowers in 
June like a yellow wistaria. Clean, smooth bark. Equally good 
on all sorts of soil, including lime. Poisonous in all parts, espe- 
cially fruits. Not quite hardy north of New York. Seedlings crop 
up all around. Give abundance of water. The laburnum is at 
its best in rainy Ireland. 

Laurel, Great. See Magnolia. 

Linden (Tilia Americana). 90 feet. Dense, round head when young. 
Rapid grower. White fragrant flowers attract bees. Needs 
no attention after planting. Very variable and much confused 
with European species, T. petiolaris, which is smaller, and has leaves 
hairy beneath. 

Locust, False Acacia (Robinia Pseudacacia). 80 feet. White. 
Fragrant pea-like flowers in May, June. Quick growing when 
young. Makes a moderate spread with irregular outline. Attacked 
by a borer, spreads freely by seeds, and suckers badly. 

Magnolia (Various species). These embrace the largest-flowered and 
most conspicuously ornamental deciduous trees; some evergreen, 
some deciduous, and some are shrubs. Besides being the largest 
flowered, they are also among the most fragrant. The deciduous 
species are reasonably hardy, and in sheltered positions may be 

150 The American Flower Garden 

planted as far north as Massachusetts, some running even above 
that. Excepting M. glauca, which thrives in swampy situations, 
the whole family prefers sandy or peaty loam, moderately moist. 
Transplanting is difficult on account of the thick, spongy roots, and 
is to be done as growth starts. Propagation is by seeds or layers. 

Plant with evergreens for background , Cucumber Tree 

{Magnolia acuminata). 60 to 100 feet. Leaves slightly hairy, 
light green beneath. Flowers greenish yellow; 3 inches across. 
May, June. Fruit conical, pink. The hardiest species. Foliage 

yellow in the fall. The most inconspicuous in its flowers. , 

Large-leaved (M. macrophylla). 30 to 50 feet. Of slender 
growth, making a broad, round head. Leaves up to 30 inches 
long; bright green above, silvery white below. The flowers 10 to 
12 inches across, white, with a purple centre. May, June. Highly 
decorative with the cone-like fruit becoming bright red. Hardy 
to Boston. The largest-leaved magnolia. Should be given a shel- 
tered position. , Fraser's (M. Fraseri). 30 to 40 feet. 'Usually 

with a leaning trunk. Flowers cream-white, 8 to 10 inches across. 
June. Fruit rose red, 5 inches long. Distinguished by the peculiarly 

eared leaf. Almost as hardy as the cucumber tree. , Great 

Laurel (M. fcetida). 50 to 80 feet. Leaves 5 to 8 inches 
long, dull green. Flowers April to August. White, 6 to 8 inches 
across. Cup-shaped, solitary. Hardy to Philadelphia. Cut 

branches used for winter decoration. , Hall's (M. stellata). See 

Shrubs, p. 181. , Soulange's (M. Soulangeana). 30 feet. 

May. White-pink blossoms, six inches long, appearing before the 
leaves. Plant against dark backgrounds; small specimens two to 
three feet high will bloom. The largest-flowered, small hardy tree; 
transplant only in spring. A number of garden hybrids of extreme 

beauty are allied to this. , Swamp Bay (M . glauca). 50 to 75 

feet. Sometimes a shrub. Though evergreen in the South, deciduous 
in the North. Leaves smooth, lustrous, bright green with silvery 
lining. Flowers 2 to 3 inches across; creamy white, fragrant. 
The best magnolia for general cultivation, thriving from New York 
south. More floriferous when cut back and treated as a shrub. 

, Yulan (M. conspicua). 30 feet. White, fragrant flowers 

expanding to six inches. May. The largest white-flowered tree 
that is hardy farther north than Long Island. 

Trees 151 

Maidenhair Tree (Ginkgo liloba). 80 feet. Singular habit; erect, 
pyramidal, with curiously horizontal branches. Leaves wedge- 
shaped. Singular, but not freakish looking. Free from insects and 
fungi. Perfectly hardy. Ripe fruits have foul odour. Kernels 
eaten by Chinese. 

Maple, Japanese (Acer palmatum). Low specimens up to 20 feet. 
The most delicately foliaged small tree. Usually used as a shrub. 
Numerous varieties variously cut, and some coloured red or purple. 
Plant in well-drained, rich soils, and partial shade. Handsome 

for foregrounds and near the house, and in the rock garden. , 

Red (A. rubrum). go feet. Earliest blooming of the large trees; 
rounded head of small scarlet flowers. Should be planted against 
evergreen background. Seed pods bright red in summer; leaves 
brilliant orange and scarlet in fall. Makes a tall, rather upright tree. 
Does not thrive on hillsides or other dry land, and is the only maple 

for wet and swampy sites. , Silver (A. saccharinum or 

dasycarpum). 80 feet. Quickest growing of all the maples, but 
soon breaks down, and is very liable to insect attacks. Much used 
for street planting, unfortunately, but can be improved by persistent 

pruning to a single stem. , Striped (A. Pennsylvanica). 

40 feet. Peculiarly attractive on account of the bark of the trunk 
and of larger branches being striped with white or yellowish lines on 
a green ground. An excellent lawn tree, not growing too large. 

Valuable for winter effects. , Sugar (A. saccharum). 100 

feet. Moist soil preferred. The best shade and street tree 
among the maples. Long enduring; bright red and yellow foliage 
in fall. Transplant when young. In some regions attacked by the 
leopard moth and other borers. When young, makes numerous 

shoots that need thinning. , Norway (A. platanoides). 

Much like the preceding, but denser, clear yellow in fall, and 

flowers yellowish green in spring. , Wier's Cut-leaved (A. 

saccharinum, var. Wieri). 100 feet. Casting very heavy, shade. 
Vigorous, upright habit, with long, arching, pendulous branches. 
Silver-green leaves, deeply cut on youngest branches. Best in 
young specimens, as old trees become prey to insects and are 
broken by storms. 

Mountain Ash (Sorbus Americana). 30 feet. Spreading. Pinnate 
leaves. White flowers. May, June, but chiefly valued for clusters 

152 The American Flower Garden 

of bright red berries in August, September. , European (S. 

Aucuparia). Thrives in extreme North. Very brilliant fruits; 
edible. Many garden forms of this. 

Mulberry, Russian (Morus alba, var. Tatarica). 40 feet. Fastest- 
growing, long-lived tree for the West. Stands drought well, and 
also shade. Grows twenty feet in ten years. Gets winter-killed in 
the Dakotas and Kansas. Needs pruning as a shade tree. Edible 
fruits litter ground. 

Oak, English (Quercus Robur or pedunculata). 120 feet. Stout, spread- 
ing branches and broad, round-topped head. Foliage dark green 
above, and pale bluish-green beneath. 2 to 5 inches long. Remains 
green until winter. Extremely variable. The historical oak of Eng- 
land, but thrives poorly in America with the exception of California. 

The following kinds are much to be preferred. , Mossy Cup 

(Q. macrocarpa). Distinguished by the huge shaggy receptacles for 
the large acorns. 80 feet, but sometimes twice as much. Spread- 
ing branches, and broad, round head. Deeply furrowed, light 
brown bark. Leaves bright green and shining above, whitish 
beneath; 6 inches long. A strong-growing, stately tree. Very 
picturesque in winter. Transplants with difficulty, so always 

buy young nursery stock. , Pin (Q. palustris). 80 to 

120 feet, with large, spreading branches. Pyramidal head. 
Foliage, bright green above, light green beneath. Very handsome 
when young. The most rapid-growing oak. Useful for streets and 
avenues. Transplants easily. Prefers moist soil. Foliage scarlet 

in fall. , Red (Q. rubra). 80 to 150 feet. Stout, spreading 

branches, and round-topped head. Leaves dull green above, light 
green beneath. Nearly as rapid growing as the pin oak. Foliage 

dark red in fall. The best oak for dry uplands and rocky soils. , 

White (Q. alba). 100 feet. Stout branches with round, open head. 
Bark light gray. Leaves bright green, becoming violet-red or 
violet-purple in fall. One of the best trees for park effects in the 
North. It prefers moist soil. Does not transplant easily. Get 

young nursery stock. , Willow (Q. Phellos). 50 to 80 feet. 

Slender branches and conical head. Leaves bright green and 
glossy above, light green beneath, becoming pale yellow in fall. 
The best medium-sized oak. Prefers very moist, almost swampy 
soil. Oaks as a group are shallow-rooting trees, and the longest- 

Trees 153 

lived of all; generally easily transplanted, excepting those of the 
white oak group. This peculiarity seems to be related to problems 
of symbiotic fungi on the roots, a subject that is as yet little under- 
stood. In transplanting care should be observed to avoid violent 
changes of conditions. 

Peach, Flowering (Persica vulgaris, var. fl.-pl.). Up to 30 feet, but 
usually seen in much smaller specimens. Bright, rosy pink. Flour- 
ishes wherever common peach will grow. Should be pruned 
closely, and given rich soil. Flowers nearly an inch across, very 
double, appearing when the fruiting peach blooms. Also a white 
variety which is not so effective. 

Poplar, Carolina (Populus Caroliniand). 100 ft. Dry soil preferred. 
Fastest growing of all shade trees; best for most crowded parts of 
large cities. Good in arid states. The silky pappus shed in summer 
and driven by the wind becomes a nuisance. Soft wood, and easily 

broken. , Lombardy ( P. nigra, var. Italica). 60 feet. Tall, 

columnar tree of most distinct and striking habit of any tree suit- 
able for the North, but not long-lived in the northernmost states. 
So singular that it should be planted with care. Excellent for formal 
planting, also to give effect of height on a plain, or to add to effect 

of a low cliff or ledge. Suckers from root. , Tulip (Lirioden- 

dron Tulipifera). 120 feet. Yellow tulip-like flowers in May, June. 
Fastest-growing, longest-lived soft-wood tree of the East. Splendid 
lawn specimen. In perfection New York southward. 

Plane, Oriental (Platanus orientalis). 80 feet. Good for all soils, 
even water side, and as a street or avenue tree; wide-spreading, 
making regular-formed head with better outline than the 
Western or American plane (P. occidentalis), which is subject 
to disease. The two can hardly be distinguished in the young 
state. The shedding of the bark in winter makes the trees pecu- 
liarly attractive. 

Pagoda Tree (Sopbora Japonica). 60 feet. Loose panicles of white, 
pea-like flowers in July (or September in Massachusetts); something 
like a white acacia. The peculiar method of branching makes it a 
most interesting winter tree. Not hardy far north. One of the 
most graceful-looking large trees. 

Red Bud, Judas Tree (Cercis Canadensis). 30 feet. Purplish-pink 
pea-like flowers wreathing the branches. Blooms with magnolia 

154 The American Flower Garden 

and shadbush before the leaves. Best planted in spring. Isolate 
from other colours. Evergreens for background most effective. 

Shadbush {Amelancbier Canadensis). 20 feet. Mass of small, white, 
plum-like flowers in very early spring; berries May to June, red, 
relished by nesting birds. Hardy in extreme North, and becoming 
a tree 60 feet in the South. Most effective white-flowered tree along 
woodland borders in the spring before the dogwood. Flowers with 
red bud. 

Sorrel Tree (Oxydendrum arboreum). 60 feet. Attractive all the 
year. Terminal clusters of white flowers in June. Foliage changes 
to crimson in the fall. Conspicuous seed pods remain white for a 
long time. Young wood has crimson bark. Stands shade. 

Sweet Gum (Liquidambar styraciflua). 50 feet. Characteristic tree 
in the South, but not thriving north of New York. Hard to trans- 
plant. The ivy-like leaves become beautifully yellow and red in the 
fall. Seed balls and corky wings on the branches give character 
in the winter. Does well near water. 

Tamarack (Larix Americana'). 60 feet. Deciduous, coniferous tree; 
needle-like leaves, pale green, fading to golden yellow in autumn. 
Grows on any soil, and is better than the larch (L. Europea), 
which demands well-drained soil. 

Tulip Tree. See Poplar, Tulip. 

Tupelo, Sour Gum (Nyssa sylvatica). 75 feet. Picturesque, bold- 
looking tree, valuable for distant effects. Bright scarlet foliage in 
autumn. Winter character peculiarly desolate because of droop- 
ing limbs. Does not transplant well. 

Varnish Tree (Kcelreuteria paniculatd). 60 feet. Yellow flowers, 
June and July, followed by ornamental curved seed pods 2 feet 
long. Foliage finely divided, becoming rich crimson in the fall. 
One of the handsomest of the Japanese trees. 

Walnut, Black (Juglans nigra). 125 feet. Preferred soil, fertile hill- 
side and bottom land. Especially suited to the West and even on 
alkali lands. Requires wide space to develop. In the East, often 
disfigured by large webs of the webworm, which should be burned 
off with torches on poles. Drops its leaves rather eaily in the fall. 

Willow, Weeping (Salix Babylonica). 40 feet. Branches pendulous. 
Most rapid-growing "weeper" thriving in average soils. Olive- 

Trees 155 

green bark in winter; var. aurea has yellow bark. Best effect when 
planted on margins of water. In extreme North, plant var. dolorosa. 
The upright willows look much alike, but are good for quick effect 

as screens to be cut out later. , Pussy (S. discolor). 20 feet. 

Thrives equally on wet or dry ground. , Rosemary (S. incand). 

With narrow leaves, white underneath, giving gray effect. Grafted 
on hardy stock is an effective small lawn specimen, usually used as 

Yellow Wood (Cladrastis tinctoria, Virgilia luted). 50 feet. White. 
June. Fragrant flowers, like a white wistaria, lasting several days. 
Sought by bees. Hardy in Canada. Gray beech-like bark. Shy 
and intermittent bloomer except in South. Fruits hang on all 

Yulan. See Magnolia. 

Decorative Evergreens for Garden Use 

Adam's Needle (Yucca filamentosd). See Herbaceous Plants, p. 229. 

Andromeda. See Rosemary, Wild, and Fetter Bush. 

Arborvitae (Thuya occidentalis). Up to 40 feet. Best orna- 
mental evergreen of moderate height. Excellent as hedge, 
screen, windbreak, or specimen. Foliage brownish green, becom- 
ing darker with winter. Give good soil and not too dry. 
The Siberian variety, (var. Wareana,) is narrower, denser and 
better coloured in winter. There are many varieties, the most 
important being "George Peabody," orange yellow, useful for 
bedding, and var. globose, dwarf, less than two feet high. 
Bright green. 

Azalea, Showy (Azalea amcend). 2 feet. Low, dense bush. Leaves 
become rich bronze in winter. Somewhat resembling boxwood, 
the leaves being of same size. Flowers rosy purple, completely 
obscuring foliage. May. Isolate. The most floriferous ever- 
green. Useful for hedges or for massing with rhododendrons that 
do not bloom at same time. Peaty soil. Give protection from 
severe winds. 

Bay, Bull (Magnolia grandiflord). 80 feet. Pyramidal habit. Leaves 
thick, leathery, glossy dark green, reddish brown underneath. 
Most important evergreen tree of the South. Doubtfully hardy 

156 The American Flower Garden 

north of Philadelphia, but reported in favoured situations on Long 
Island, where, however, it is deciduous. Immense white, fragrant 

flowers 1 foot across. Transplants badly. , Sweet (Laurus 

nobilis). The most popular formal evergreen for formal gardens, 
terraces and vestibules, etc. Not hardy, but largely used in tubs 
and pots for summer decoration, and always in artificially trained 
forms, pyramid, standard, and so forth. Must be stored over 
winter in a frost-proof cellar. 

Boxwood (Buxus sempervirens). 20 feet, but usually much smaller. 
Very slow growing. The box of old gardens. (See Hedge Plants, 
p. 188.) , Dwarf (var. suffruticosa). Similar, but never grow- 
ing tall. Best for formal edging to beds, etc. , Oriental 

(B. Japonica). 6 feet, with more rounded leaves, nearly as hardy; 
is very desirable for hedges from Philadelphia southward. Var. 
microphylla is a decided dwarf, often prostrate shrub. 

Cedar of Lebanon (Cedrus Libani). With peculiarly tabled horizontal 
branches, dark, dull green. Not hardy North of New York. 70 feet. 
A recent form now under trial at the Arnold Arboretum promises 

to be quite hardy. , Mt. Atlas {Cedrus Atlantica). 120 feet. 

Leaves less than an inch long. The hardiest of the cedars growing 
near New York with shelter, on well-drained loamy soil. Graceful 
feathery, slightly drooping branches in young specimens. Var. 

glauca has bluish foliage. , Red (Juniperus Virginiana). Up to 

100 feet. The best tree of the cedar type for American gardens. 
From Nova Scotia to Florida. A symmetrical, often columnar tree, 
dense and dark coloured. Valuable for formal gardens, wind- 
breaks, and seaside planting. Adapted to every kind of soil. 
Extremely variable in outline and colour. 

Cotoneaster, Box-leaved (Cotoneaster buxifolia). Low spreading 
shrub with dark green persistent leaves resembling boxwood. 
Flowers small, white. May, June. Followed by bright red fruit. 
(67. microphylla). Similar, with brighter foliage. 

Cryptomeria (67. Japonica, var. Lobbi). Useful only when quite young. 
Up to 8 feet. Very pretty, light green, wiry but drooping 
branches. There is a plant of the type 40 feet high at Dosoris, 
L. I., but is not usually considered hardy. The var. Lobbi is 
probably the quickest growing short-leaved conifer that is hardy 
at New York. 

Trees 157 

Cypress, Japanese. See Retinispora. , Lawson's (Chamce- 

cyparis Lawsoniand). The most beautiful and probably the tallest 
of the American cypresses attaining 200 feet in Northern California. 
Ascending branches with drooping tips giving graceful plumose 
effect. Very rapid grower when young. Great merit is that it 
does well in the mountains toward the South, but is not reliably 
hardy in New England. Very variable. It is to the South what 
the retinisporas are to the North. 

Euonymus (E. Japonicus). 6 feet; upright-growing shrub, with glossy 
dark-green leaves. i£ to 2 inches long. Does best along the 
coast. Not quite hardy in the North, except in shaded, protected 

situations. Several variegated forms. , Creeping (E. radi- 

cans). (See Vines, p. 333.) 

Fetter Bush (Pieris floribunda). Dense growing bush with dull, deep- 
green foliage. Flowers in drooping, terminal tassels. White. April, 
May; 2 to 4 feet. The conspicuous flower buds all winter 
make this plant particularly decorative for bordering drives, etc. 

, Japanese, or Andromeda (P. Japonica). Similar to the 

foregoing, but larger and with looser habit of growth. 

Fir, Balsam {Abies balsamea). 50 to 80 feet. A slender tree. Foliage 
dark green and lustrous above, pale below. The common fir of 
eastern North America, giving Canada balsam. Foliage fragrant 
in drying. Loses its beauty early in cultivation. Thrives on a 

variety of soils and where other evergreens would fail. , 

Nordmann's (A. Nordmanniatta). Most ornamental and stateliest 
fir. 100 to 150 feet. Glossy dark foliage. Broadly conical out- 
line. Leaves remain on the trees for eight years. Thicker and 
wider than most conifers. Uninjured by salt spray. Large speci- 
mens transplant badly. Said to winter-kill in some spots near 

Philadelphia, but is uninjured much farther north. , Red. 

See Spruce, Douglas. , White (A. concolor). The best 

fir in the North, withstanding heat and drought. Very hardy. 250 
feet. Rapid grower, and the most ornamental fir for the East. 
Needles bluish, curved and with feathery effect. Conical habit, 
and with little pruning makes a very compact tree. A. lasio- 
carpa is similar, but more compact. 

Garland Flower (Daphne Cneorurri). With trailing branches. Dark 
green linear leaves. Flowers in clustered heads. Purplish pink. 

158 The American Flower Garden 

Fragrant. April, May, and again in the summer; 1 foot. The 

most fragrant low evergreen. Prefers deep, rich peaty soil. 

(D. Blagayana). With ascending branches. Flowers white or 
yellowish, April, May. Grafts die without apparent cause. 

Hemlock (Tsuga Canadensis). Most ornamental Eastern evergreen. 
Has general character of the Norway spruce, but more graceful and 
lighter, brighter colour. Endures shade and valuable for bordering 
woodlands, but will not stand salt spray. Also the best evergreen 
hedge plant, standing trimming well. See also, Hedges, p. 188. 

Holly, American {Ilex opacd). Dull green, spiny leaves, with bright red 
berries in winter if staminate tree is planted among pistillate ones. 

Up to 50 ft. , English (7. Aquifolium). More lustrous than 

the American, but not so hardy. Grows near New York in moist, 
drained soil with shelter. Numerous varieties cultivated in Europe. 

, Japanese (/. crenatd). Resembles boxwood in foliage, but 

plant is more irregular in outline. Comparatively new. Thrives 
perfectly in Bronx Park, New York, but is winter-killed nearby. 

Inkberry (Ilex glabra). Upright. Much branched. Profusion of 
black berries all winter; 2 to 4 feet. Best broad-leaved evergreen 
for full sun in the North. Mature plants resemble old boxwood. 

Juniper, Common (Juniperus communis). The English and Irish 
junipers are forms of this one, the latter being columnar. Not desir- 
able in eastern North America, being extremely short lived. 

Laurel, Mountain (Kalmia latifolia). 10 feet. Valuable native 
for mass planting and for hedges (see p. 189). Flowers in large 
clusters. Pink, rose, and white. May, June. With the rhododendron 

is the most valuable flowering evergreen. , Narrow-leaved 

(K. angustifolia.) Smaller leaves and rosy purple flowers. June, 
July; 3 feet. , Great. (See Rhododendron maximum.) 

Leucothoe (Leucothoe Catesbcei). Trailing plant. Flowers lily-of-the- 
valley like; creamy white, fragrant. May. Should be used as ground 
cover in groups. Long arching sprays of dark glossy foliage becoming 
claret-coloured when exposed to sun. Thrives with rhododendron. 

Mahonia (Berberis Aquifolium). Yellow flowers and bluish-gray fruit. 
(See Ashberry, in Hedge Plants, p. 187). , Creeping (Ber- 
beris repens). 1 foot. Leaflets pale glaucous green and dull. Flow- 
ers yellow. May., Fruit an oblong blue berry. Useful for 
carpeting. Hardy in the North. , Japan (B. Japonica). 

Trees 159 

5 to 10 feet. Like a magnified mahonia or ashberry. Leaves 
holly-like, more than a foot long. Fruit black. Hardy in New 
York with shelter. The B. Japonica of gardens is B. Nepalensis, 
not so tall, with fewer spines but more leaflets. 

Myrtle, Trailing, or Periwinkle {Vine a minor). See Vines, p. 335. 

Pine, Austrian (JPinus Laricio, var. Austriaca). Rapid grower, suc- 
ceeding on a variety of soils. 125 feet. Hardy. Of dark, sombre 
aspect, hence called black pine. Short branches with stiff, long 
needles. Stands wind and salt spray. Keeps its colour all winter. 
Begins to deteriorate when about twenty-five years old. Used as a 

temporary windbreak. , Dwarf Mountain (P. montana, var. 

Mughus). The best dwarf pine, eventually becoming 10 feet high. 
Invaluable for roadbanks, terraces, massing at entrances, also 
as lawn specimens. Makes an almost globular bush with charac- 
teristic pine growth. Leaves bright green. Does well on variety 

of soils if well drained. , Pitch (P. rigidd). Horizontal 

spreading branches, making an open, irregular pyramid. 80 feet; 
leaves 2 to 5 inches long. Very hardy and of rapid growth when 
young. Easily raised from seed. Useful on dry and rocky sterile 
soils. Sprouts readily from stumps. Very picturesque when old. 

, Red (P. resinosa). One of the best of the hardy conifers, 

thriving up to the far north. 100 feet. Medium green, long leaves, 
grows upon any drained soil. Particularly picturesque vvhen aged. 
A good tree for garden use, as it stands cutting and trimming. One 

of the best for screens, hedges, and windbreaks. , Scotch 

(P- sylvestris). Similar to Austrian pine in all respects except 

that foliage is blue-green and shorter. , Umbrella (Scia- 

dopitys verticillata). Unique in character, having long narrow 
leaves of a lustrous green, in whorls. 100 feet. A narrow compact 
pyramid; rather slow growth. Hardy to Maine. Thrives in mod- 
erately moist loam and also clay. , White (Pinus Strobus). 

Most useful conifer for general planting, and tallest evergreen tree 
of Eastern America. 150 feet. Thrives anywhere except on 
wet clay subsoil. Needles long, and brighter green than most 
conifers. Very picturesque and fugged with age. Makes annual 
growth of 2 feet. Horizontal branches in whorls. Easily injured 
by winds until 10 or 12 feet high. Often attacked by mealy bug 
and woolly aphis when young; spray with kerosene emulsion. 

160 The American Flower Garden 

Retinispora, Japan Cypress (Chamcecyparis pisifera). Usually 3 
to 6 feet. The most decorative of all the conifers. Only the young 
plants are in cultivation. The mature trees are never used for 
garden planting, having totally different habit and appearance. 
Beautiful feathery foliage. Slow growth. Usually used in orna- 
mental groups or as lawn specimens. Var. filifera has long drooping 
branches and thread-like branchlets; foliage, light green. Var. 
plumosa has short branches with feathery effect. Var. plumosa 
aurea is similar, but golden yellow. Much used for bedding. 

Var. squarrosa is silvery blue. (C. obtusa). Differs from the 

preceding in having dark green arborvitae-like branches. Var. 
nana is much trained in dwarf forms by the Japanese. All the 
retinisporas want very rich soil to do well. 

Rhododendron, Rose Bay, Great Laurel (Rhododendron maxi- 
mum). Large shrub or small tree. Up to 35 feet, but usually seen 
about 6 feet. Without exception the most important broad-leaved 
evergreen for massing. Planted by the carload. Very hardy 
through the coldest winters. Leaves whitish beneath, 4 to 10 
inches long. Flowers white or pale pink with greenish spots inside. 
June, July. Demands open soil, well drained, but not over dry. 
Shows a distinct dislike of lime, but can be grown in limestone soils 
in beds excavated for several feet and filled in with fresh compost, 
largely peat and leaf-mould. Hardy into Canada. Transplant by 

preference from a turfy soil. , Catawba (R. Catawbiense). 

Shrub. Usually 6 feet; rarely 20 feet. Less hardy than maximum. 
Leaves, glaucous beneath, 3 to 5 inches long. Flowers lilac-purple. 
June. An important shrub for massing south of New England. 
, Hybrids (R. Catawbiense and R. Ponticum, a tender spe- 
cies). Among the most beautiful conspicuously flowered evergreens. 
There are numerous varieties offered. Large globe-like trusses of 
flowers appearing in May, June. Some of the most popular varie- 
ties are: Delicatissimum, blush white, tinted pink; Everestianum, 
rosy lilac spotted and fringed, the most popular of all the hybrids; 
Caractacus, purple crimson; C. S. Sargent, bright scarlet; Roseum 
superbum, light rose; Charles Dickens, dark scarlet; Gloriosa, bluish 
white; Album elegans, white; H. H. Hunnewell, dark crimson. 

Rosemary, Wild {Andromeda polifolia). Narrow, leaves, ij inches 
long, with revolute margins, whitish beneath. Flowers nodding. 

Trees 161 

White and pink. June; 6 inches to 2 feet. Very variable. In 
terminant umbels. Peaty or sandy soil, with rhododendrons and 
azaleas. See also Fetter Bush. 

Savin (Juniperus Sabina). A prostrate shrub, with long, stiff, straggling 
dark green branches, but free method of growth. 3 to 5 feet. 

Spruce, Blue (Picea pungens, var. glauca). The best-coloured coni- 
ferous evergreen. Beautiful steel-blue. Most imposing in early 
summer. Slow grower, attaining 75 feet. Hardy, but compara- 
tively short-lived, the base becoming ragged at 35 years. Many 
forms of this in the trade. The highest coloured of all is known as 

Koster's. Also drooping and weeping forms. , Douglas 

(Pseudotsuga Douglasii.) Rapid grower, almost too fast for 
garden growth. 200 feet. Colorado trees are hardier than those 
from California. Transplants readily. Rich dark green foliage 

with faint blue sheen beneath. , Engelmann's (Picea Engel- 

manni). Somewhat resembling the blue spruce in tone of colour 
but less brilliant. Needles not so long but softer and flexible. 

Perfectly hardy. 80 to 100 feet. , Norway (P. excelsa). 

The fastest growing conifer. 100 feet. Also one of the hardiest 
and withstanding strong winds. Sombre, dark green. Does best 
in moderately rich soil with good feeding. Otherwise loses its 
beauty early, before the white pine. Graceful branches, drooping. 
Needs ample space for full development of individual character. 
Branches to the ground, making a perfect cone. — — , Oriental 
(P. orientalis). Most refined of all spruces. Ascending branches 
with pendulous branchlets. Rich, dark foliage. Makes a beautiful 
lawn specimen when old enough to bear cones. The staminate 
flowers a brilliant carmine, standing erect like candles on a Christ- 
mas tree. Slow growing and, though discoloured by spring frosts, 

is hardy. , White (P. alba). The hardiest native spruce, 

and ranking next to the white pine in rapidity of growth. Usually 
70 feet, but occasionally 150 feet. Light glaucous green foliage. 
Dense tree, regular conical shape. Excellent windbreak. Will 
grow right down to the water's edge. 

Spurge, Mountain (Pachysandra terminalis). Excellent cover plant 
thriving in the sun or shade in any ordinary soil, making a carpet 
about 6 inches thick. Flowers white, followed by white berries in 
winter. Leaves lightish green and thick. 

1 62 The American Flower Garden 

Thorn, Evergreen (Pyracantha coccined). Spring shrub with roundish, 
glossy, deep-green leaves becoming bronze in winter. Umbels of 
white flowers in May, followed by clusters of very brilliant orange 
fruits in fall and winter, which are much sought by birds. 6 feet. 
Var. Lalandi is more vigorous, with slender branches, and hardier; 
suitable for covering walls, and probably is the more commonly 

Yew, Canadian (Taxus Canadensis). Creeping undergrowth shrub 
with pretty red berries. Extremely hardy. Invaluable for car- 
peting in the colder regions. Easily transplanted when young and 

may be raised from seed. , Japanese (7\ cuspidata). The 

best substitute for the English yew, 15 feet high, 21 feet wide. Per- 
fectly hardy, where as the English (T. baccata) is too delicate, needing 

winter protection. , Dwarf Japan (T. cuspidata, var. brevi- 

folia). 3 feet high with spread of several feet, is a reliable dwarf. 
Foliage dark green. 


" That is best which lieth nearest; 
Shape from that thy work of art." — Longfellow. 

''It has been the office of art to educate the perception of beauty. We are 
immersed in beauty but our eyes have no clear vision" — Emerson. 



TREES grow above the height of one's eyes; flowering 
plants below it; but shrubs that are on the eye level, 
like well-hung pictures, occupy the most important space 
in the garden gallery. Do they justify so conspicuous a position ? 
Evidently, for their popularity steadily increases, a thousand being 
sold in the United States this year for every one that was 
bought a generation ago; but then, it should be considered 
that our interest in all kinds of. planting has increased by 
leaps and bounds. Many old estates that have a fine growth 
of trees lack shrubbery that indicates any appreciation of its 
pictorial value in landscape gardening. Lilacs, mock orange, 
strawberry shrub and the spicy flowering currant were usually 
grown near the house for their fragrance and not for their value 
in the landscape composition. 

The present generation is using a great variety of shrubs and 
for many purposes. People who live on small suburban places, 
where there is room for only a few trees, find that tall shrubs planted 
as a boundary belt make an effectual screen from the eyes of the 
passers-by; and even on large estates an undergrowth of shrubbery 
for the boundary trees is usually planted where low-branched ever- 
greens are not used. Whoever has walked through woods from 
which all the natural undergrowth has been cleared away by an 
over-tidy owner realises that they have lost half their charm. 
Shrubs are the natural complement of trees, filling in the gap 
between their branches and the ground. Almost every important 


1 66 The American Flower Garden 

group of them is improved by more or less shrubbery about its base. 
Artists talk much about the sky line of pictures, but the artistic 
gardener, realising that the earth line is at least as important, 
diversifies and adorns it with blossoming shrubs wherever he can, 
learning from nature how to plant. Her woodland borders, which 
draw the eye gradually from the earth to where the tall tree-tops 
seem to rest against the sky, are fringed with viburnums, cornels, 
alder, chokeberry, shad bush, elder, sumac, wild roses and a host 
of other shrubs that not only fill the intermediate spaces but supply 
the intermediate tones in her colour scale. What beauty springs 
up along the old fence rows where nature is left free to plant them 
as she will! 

Shrubs grow so readily that they are the main dependence for 
quick results. It would take years for trees unaided by them to 
make a new place homelike. No one cares to wait half a lifetime 
to screen his grounds, shut off the service end of his house and 
conceal the drying ground and outbuildings, when a hundred hardy 
blossoming shrubs, that are good enough for mass planting and 
that can be bought for twenty dollars, will quickly hide unsightly 
places. While it never pays to buy inferior stock, however low 
in price, many a lovely shrub is so easily propagated that it can be 
sold at a profit for the price of a cigar. For a single choice 
specimen, however, one that merits isolation to display its charms, 
who would grudge a dollar ? Where only a small sum can be spent 
for planting a place, the list will surely include a preponderance 
of shrubs, because with them greater diversity of form, colour and 
texture, more lasting beauty and abundance of bloom may be had 
at a low cost than from plants of any other class. 

Trees cannot well be planted next a house without robbing it 
of light and air, but tall shrubs as a background for lower ones 

Shrubs 167 

grouped around them take off the sharpness from corners, and let 
sunshine stream in at the windows. Banked in front of foundation 
walls, they relieve the hardness of the line where house and land 
meet. The home seems to nestle cosily in a nest of green instead 
of springing suddenly from the lawn like a Jack from a box. For 
filling in the angles of a house and the corners between its steps 
and side walls, for extending architectural lines that end 
too abruptly, for helping to conceal faulty design, for softening 
hard, uncompromising masonry such as high retaining walls 
and buttresses, for making entrances inviting and taking the 
curse off wire fences and red brick enclosing walls, what should 
we do without shrubs ? 

Technically, the difference between a tree and a shrub is a 
matter of one stem or many stems from the root, but some species 
there are that do very much as they please, to the confusion of 
classifiers. The shad bush, the dogwood, the starry magnolia and 
the laburnum, for example, may be either bushes or trees. Much 
top -shearing of the boxwood may cause several stems to spring from 
the root around its central trunk, thus changing it by the mere act 
of pruning from a tree to a shrub. Because some shrubs that are 
top-pruned make dense growth at the bottom, they are especially 
desirable for hedges. Such is the over-planted but indispensable 
privet which, if left to its own devices, becomes tall and leggy. 
Sheared of its new growth, on which ill-scented blossoms would 
form in a natural state, it devotes all its splendid energies to making 
stems and foliage near the ground until a green wall, apparently 
solid, is formed by a hedge of it. 

For most purposes there is a bewildering array of shrubs to 
choose from, but what should we do for formal hedges without the 
ubiquitous privet and box? Yet the last place to find monotony 

1 68 The American Flower Garden 

should be in a garden. High hopes of the Japanese ilex filling a 
long-felt want are entertained, but it has not yet been fully tested by 
time, and it is still expensive. Italian and English gardens owe 
much of their beauty to an ilex that will not live here, to several 
species of laurel that we cannot have, and to other evergreen 
shrubs of which, unhappily, we have no counterparts. It is true 
that the hemlock and some other of our evergreen trees make 
beautiful hedges, but the evergreen shrubs that thrive on this side 
of the sea are lamentably few, and not all of these will endure the 
pruning shears. For informal evergreen hedges, however, nothing 
could be finer than rhododendron or laurel. Among bushes that 
lose their leaves in winter, but compensate us with a prodigal wealth 
of spring or summer bloom, are the spireas, deutzias, lilacs, altheas, 
rugosa roses, Japanese quinces, weigelas, and some others, any 
one of which is effective used for an informal, undipped hedge not 
required for defence. The barberries, north of Philadelphia, and 
the hardy thorny orange south of it make good defensive hedges. 
Mixed hedges rarely, if ever, satisfy the artistic eye. If hedges of 
any and every sort ever come to be as commonly used here as they 
are in England, we may make kindling of the fences that now 
disfigure our land and sing paeons of joy for the deliverance. 
How did it happen that a people, with all their gardening and 
other traditions derived from the Old World, could have so far 
departed from them as to substitute the wooden and wire fences 
for the green, impenetrable, permanent hedge that requires little 
mending and no paint ? 

As it is actually cheaper, oftentimes, to plant a bank with 
shrubbery than to grade and sod it, a concavity on a steep side hill 
will sometimes be filled in with prostrate privet (Ligustrum Ibota 
var. Regelianum) or other shrubbery that will bind the soil and 

Shrubs 169 

prevent it from slipping and washing. Many a house set on a 
narrow ridge of hill-top would appear to be less in danger of falling 
off the edge if the slopes around it were broadened by shrubs. 
How narrow and sharp would the cones of many mountains appear 
were it not for the trees that pad their sides ! 

The kinds of shrubs to plant anywhere will necessarily depend 
upon the peculiar conditions of each place, the climate, the soil, 
the situation and the personal preference of the owner governing 
the selection of them, it might go without saying. However one 
may admire camellias, hibiscus and oleanders in Southern and 
Californian gardens, one may not hope to grow them except under 
glass at the North. A stiff clay soil would prove a cemetery for 
any of the fine, fibrous-rooted heath tribe; therefore azaleas and 
laurel must be stricken from the list unless one is able to prepare 
for them the light loam, made cool and mellow with humus, that is 
their necessity. A bleak, windy side of a house one need not 
expect to beautify permanently with the holly-leaved Mahonia. 
Books and the carefully prepared catalogues of high-class nurseries 
may help the novice in deciding what to plant, but if he cannot 
afford to employ an expert landscape gardener to direct his choice, 
he is likely to learn far more from studying what nature uses most 
effectively in her garden that lies about him. Let him select the 
shrubs native to his region as a basis for other planting, not only 
because they are most likely to thrive, but because they, like the 
indigenous trees, will prevent his place from looking like an island 
in the landscape, wholly unrelated to its natural environment. 
Unless one's time is worth nothing, it is actually cheaper to buy 
the native stock, improved and strengthened by cultivation 
in a nursery, rather than to dig it oneself from the woods. A 
shrub from Japan may easily cost you less than one from a 

170 The American Flower Garden 

neighbour's thicket. Every town in America needs a well 
planted public park, if only to serve as an object lesson in beauti- 
fying the home grounds of its citizens. It could be the best of 
teachers, but how rarely one is! 

For Canada, New England and the Central states, East and 
West, the main body of shrubs chosen will not be wild cornels, 
viburnums, spice bush, elder, laurel, azalea, sumac, alder, witch 
hazel, button bush, clethra, white thorn, or whatever grows 
naturally round about one's county, for the sufficient reason that 
there are not enough species in any given locality to fit every place 
and purpose on the cultivated grounds about one's home. After 
exhausting their possibilities, reliance must be placed on the trusty, 
time-tried favourites that need no coddling, such as the lilacs — 
and is any bush more beautiful than the old-fashioned, fleecy- 
plumed white lilac ? — the heavily scented mock-orange (Philadel- 
phus) ; the floriferous spireas (except Anthony Waterer's magenta 
nerve shocker); the lovely deutzias; the Tartarian and other bush 
honeysuckles; the healthy, fluted-leaved Japanese snowball (not 
the old-fashioned bush, ever sickly from aphides) and those other 
members of the viburnum tribe that are doubly decorative in flower 
and fruit; the "Japanese quinces shading from flame to peachblow; 
the low-spreading Japanese barberry whose exquisite drooping, 
thorny stems are laden in winter with bright red berries, making 
it a joy to the eye the year around ; the weigelas, the best and worst 
shrubs we have, for the deep purplish pinks of some of them are as 
awful as those of the rose of Sharon (Althaea), whose single white, 
shell-pink, hibiscus-flowered and lavender-blue blossoms are never- 
theless delightful; the forsythia's burst of earliest spring sunshine, 
the snowberry and the white or pink Japanese roses (R. rugosa), 
but pray not the magenta ones! 

Shrubs 171 

However reliable all these may be as general purpose shrubs, 
others will be wanted for special purposes. First of these in public 
estimation is the large white-flowered hydrangea (H. grandi flora, 
var. particulate), planted by every one who owns a twenty-foot lot. 
Severely pruned, well enriched, and copiously watered at flowering 
time, it furnishes great drooping heads of snowy bloom in late 
summer, when it has the shrubbery stage to itself. How may 
so conspicuous a shrub be artistically used in a landscape garden ? 
Certainly the way not to plant it or any other startling bush is to dot 
it around a lawn — the usual practice. A good rule to follow is 
to plant nothing anywhere that is not connected with the con- 
struction lines of a place. A lot of unrelated details, however 
beautiful in themselves, are always bad art out of doors. The 
great hydrangea, massed with a not far distant background of 
evergreens or other low-branched trees, or where its drooping 
panicles may hang in the foreground of heavy shrubbery, gains 
rather than loses by its position. A purple, golden or variegated- 
leaved shrub, if isolated on a fair green lawn, detached from all 
connection with the composition lines of planting, is all the more 
a distracting sight because so common. Such special purpose 
shrubs fulfill a distinct destiny in enlivening masses of shrubbery 
which, without them, might easily be monotonous. They add 
emphasis, richness and variety of tone. Colour may be the chief 
charm or the greatest offence to the eye, so wherever applied it 
must be used as sparingly and artistically as in a living-room. In 
the garden, especially, it is apt to be overdone. The dwarf horse 
chestnut, that sends up great spires of fleecy white flowers above 
masses of healthy foliage in July, after the pyrotechnic display from 
the spring shrubs has ended and before the hydrangea, the blue 
spirea and the altheas begin to bloom, serves the special purpose of 

172 The American Flower Garden 

filling in a gap. For massing in the foreground of groups of shrub- 
bery its rather coarse habit makes it strongly decorative when 
viewed from a distance. The forsythia, whose growth in summer 
is rather loose and straggling, needs the support of its fellows to 
be effective. So does the red-stemmed dogwood bush, glowing 
above the snow. Most shrubs require special consideration for 
the best display of their charms. 

The ungrammatical advice, "Plant thick, thin quick," it is 
sometimes well to follow. If allowed to crowd one another, shrubs 
lose their individuality, their identity becomes lost in the mass, 
they starve and deteriorate. There may be sometimes a doubt 
as to which should have preference, the artistic or the cultural 
treatment of shrubbery, but in all, except very rare cases, neither 
need conflict with the other. It is not necessary to sprinkle shrubs 
about a place, one specimen here, another there, in order to give 
each all the room it really needs to display its charms. Its individu- 
ality can be respected, whether in the shrubbery border or in an 
isolated position of honour; but no shrub, however beautiful in 
itself, should be so planted as to spoil the garden picture as a whole. 
In mass planting the danger is lest the shrubs become so crowded 
that the characteristics and charm of each are lost, for the sake 
of the general effect. In specimen planting the greater danger is 
lest a number of unrelated spots will spoil the unity of the design 
of the place as a whole. The novice will have no little difficulty 
in steering his course between Scylla and Charybdis. 

Since the value of a shrub may easily lie less in its bloom than 
in its general character of form and habit — its personality — care 
must be taken not to shear it away. Bushes are usually headed 
back when they are received from the nursery, or if they grow too 
tall and spindling, but the reprehensible habit of trimming off all 

Shrubs 173 

shrubs every winter until they are as flat-topped as a hedge is so 
common a fault of gardeners that special caution needs to be spoken 
as often as the pruning season comes around. And when is that ? 
Shrubs that set buds in the fall should be trimmed immediately 
after flowering, or, better still, while they are in bloom, as a justi- 
fication for robbing them of the long sprays that so adorn a house. 
If for no other purpose, one wishes an abundance of shrubs to supply 
the home with its most decorative cut flowers. A jar filled with 
forsythia sprays, although set in a north room, brightens it like 
sunshine. Vases of bridal wreath and long whips of blossoming 
almond give an air of festivity to a simple living-room that no 
florist's bouquet can out-do. Happily florists themselves are 
recognising the decorative value of shrubs and now offer in mid- 
winter branches of lilacs that have been forced to bloom with ether, 
azaleas, spireas, snowballs, pussy willows and other darlings of the 
spring. Shrubs that bloom on the new wood made in spring or 
summer — the hardy hydrangea, for example — should be pruned 
in winter. One keen gardener, who is a law unto herself, does all 
pruning between December and March, for the reason that her 
bushes, which are benefited by the surgery, supply her at that lean 
season with flowers for the house and table. The best of the 
cuttings she places in pails of water in the sunny windows of an 
unused upper room, and carries downstairs triumphantly from 
time to time sprigs of forsythia, yellow jasmine, bush honeysuckle, 
the starry magnolia and cherry blossoms, which most quickly 
repay her, apple, peach and quince blossoms, deutzia, dogwood, 
almond and scarlet maple. 

Whoever spends the winter in the country will choose many 
shrubs besides the barberry, cotoneaster, snowberry, dogwood, 
bush cranberry and euonymus, if only for the bright cheer of their 

174 The American Flower Garden 

fruit. And because the broad-leaved evergreens, the majestic 
rhododendron and the lovely laurel delight one after every other 
shrub is bare, their popularity steadily increases. People with 
deep purses buy them by the freight car load to mass along drives, 
under trees where other shrubs would be unhappy, around ponds 
and along brooks. Drying out of their fine fibrous roots is as fatal to 
them as to the azaleas, their cousins. Where water cannot prevent 
the catastrophe, much leaf-mould mixed with the peaty soil they are 
planted in helps avert it, but a mulch of leaves or grass cuttings 
from the lawn over their roots keep them cool and moist in 
summer when there is most danger of their drying out, and from 
the alternate freezing and thawing in winter or very early spring 
from which so many evergreens perish. 

Nature covers her plants with a light mulch every autumn as 
the leaves fall, and the Japanese learned from her long ago the 
warmth of many layers of light material, which ward off scorching 
heat as well as cold. In burning piles of leaves, as many do, we 
rob our gardens of their warmest blankets and the compost heap 
of a contribution for which the costly laurel, rhododendron and 
azalea often pine to death. Our home grounds are apt to be 
fatally tidy. We don't realise that for the lack of a mulch, in sum- 
mer as well as in winter, more fibrous-rooted and newly transplanted 
stock dies than from perhaps any other cause. Indeed, it is almost 
hopeless to bring to perfection any of the heath tribe without 
mulching. Among them are the costly and lovely azaleas, with a 
range of colour from purest white and pink to buff, yellow, salmon, 
orange and flame — all the glory of a sunset being included in their 
marvellous tints. Many earthly possessions seem paltry indeed 
when compared with them. A walk along a path bordered by 
azaleas is like a stroll through a gallery where there is a beautiful 

Shrubs 175 

picture at each step. The woman who denied herself a new spring 
hat for the enduring joy of a clump of the great rhododendron under 
her window had the right idea. 

Deciduous Shrubs of Special Merit 

Acacia Rose (Robinia hispidd). Rose colour. May, June. 2 to 8 feet, 
Hairy in all parts except the flowers, which are pea-like in large 
clusters. Suckers freely from the roots and may become a nuisance. 
A valuable screen. Useful on banks. Increased by division. 

Almond, Flowering (Prunus Japonica). Spreading. The commonest 
flowering almond of old gardens. Flowers rose coloured* May, 
June. 5 feet. Only the double form is in cultivation. Good 
garden soil. Leaves smooth; otherwise like flowering plum. 

Althea. See Rose of Sharon. 

Arrow Wood (Viburnum dentatum). Upright, but bushy. Flower 
cymes 3 inches across. May, June. 15 feet. White. Fruit bluish 
black. Excellent for moist soil. Leaves lobed. 

Azalea, Pinxter Flower, etc. These are among the earliest large- 
flowering shrubs, the majority blooming before the leaves appear. 

, Ghent (A. Gandavensis). The most showy early flowering 

shrub, April. 2 to 4 feet. Largest orange and salmon coloured 

flowers of spring. , Japan (A. Sinensis or mollis"). Flame 

coloured and yellow. Every shade like a sunset. , Carolina 

(A. Vaseyi), purest pink, 1 J inches across. 4 feet. , Pinxter 

Flower (A. nudiflord). Pink veined with crimson lake. For wild 

garden. 3 to 5 feet. , White (A. viscasa). 2 to 4 feet. Plant 

near water. Also some evergreen species. All the azaleas demand 
open, loose soil, well drained. Preferably with humus. See also 
Rhodora and Evergreens, p. 155. 

Barberry, Common (Berberis vulgaris). 6 feet. Bright scarlet berries, 
half inch long, last till spring. Var. atropurpureus has dark plum- 
coloured foliage, valuable as foil to brighter-leaved plants. Per- 
fectly hardy. , Japan (B. Thunbergi). Best low ornamental 

shrubbery plant. Dense, compact growth, small shiny branches. 
Red berries all winter. Foliage is brilliant scarlet in fall. Quick 
grower on rich soils, but thrives anywhere. 4 feet. Invaluable for 
shrubbery or specimens. Propagate by seeds. 

176 The American Flower Garden 

Bladder Nut (Staphylea trifolid). Greenish white flowers in nodding 
panicles. April, May; 6 to 15 feet. Sharply toothed leaves slightly 
hairy. A strikingly pretty shrub with three-foliate leaves. Any 

soil and position, but best in rich, moist loam partly shaded. 

(5. Colchica). 12 feet. 5 leaflets. Has more conspicuous flowers. 
Pods of both much inflated in summer. 

Bladder Senna (Colutea arborescens). Flowers yellow. July to 
September. To 15 feet. Rapid growing, free flowering. Valuable 
for lightening the shrubbery with its pale green foliage. Large 
inflated pods in late summer. Not quite hardy North. Any soil, 
with preference to fairly dry and sunny. Propagate by seeds in 
spring, mature wood cuttings in fall. 

Blue Spirea (Caryopteris Mastacanthus). Conical flower spikes with 
lavender-blue flowers. August, September. The only blue-flowered 
shrub of late summer and fall. Extremely attractive to bees; flour- 
ishes well along the seacoast. Cut down to the ground annually by 
frost, but makes a good growth and blooms every season. Blue 
flower spikes suggest a larkspur. 

Buckthorn (Rhamnus cathartica). Sturdy shrub with spring branches. 
Oval leaves, flowers white. May. 10 feet. Fruit a black berry, 

large. Very hardy. Garden soil, rather dry. , Alder 

(R. Frangula). Has fruit red, changing to black in September. 

12 feet. Moist soil. , Sea (Hippophae rhamnoides). Best 

grayish-green foliage for seaside and sandy soils; used for binding. 
Also grows well in garden soils. On poorest land sometimes as 
low as two feet. Staminate plants more upright than pistillate. 
Berries orange-yellow. September; 10 feet, sometimes a tree 20 
feet. Yellowish flowers in May. 

Buddleia (Buddleia Lindleyand). June, July; 3 to 6 feet. Racemes 
of purplish violet flowers 6 inches long. Not quite hardy in the 
North, but flowers on new growth from the root. Worth growing 
for its colour. Light, well-drained soil, sunny position. Propagate 
by greenwood cuttings in spring, or hardwood cuttings in fall kept 
away from frost. 
Bush Clover (Lespedeza Sieboldi). Small pea-like flowers in rosy pink 
clusters in September; up to 6 or 8 feet, but usually much smaller 
from winter-killing. Hardy in central New England. Valuable 
for its late season. Any soil. Propagate by division. 










Shrubs 177 

Chaste Tree, Monk's Pepper Tree (Vitex Agnus-castus). Narrow, 
pinnate leaves, grayish beneath. Flowers bluish lilac. July, 
September; varying height, generally 6 to 8 feet. Valuable for its 
late season. Not quite hardy in the North, where the less showy 
V. incisa survives. Any rather dry, sunny situation preferred. 

Chokeberry (Aronia arbuti folia). Flowers April to May; 6 to 12 feet. 
White or tinged red. Numerous pear-shaped berries, a quarter inch 

across, bright or dull red, September. , Black (A. nigra). 

Similar, but with black berries. Both perfectly hardy and among 
the most beautiful fruiting small shrubs. Any soil. 

Clethra. See Sweet Pepper Bush. 

Coral Berry (Symphoricarpos vulgaris). Like the snowberry, but 
having smaller and purplish or reddish, berries, persisting all winter. 
5 feet. Foliage turns red in autumn. Native to the Middle States, 
but escaped from cultivation in the East. Also a variegated form. 

Cornel, Bush Dogwood (Cornus candidissimd). One of the best white 
blooming shrubs of June, followed by white berries on coral stems. 

Any soil. , Silky (C. Amomurti). Dark green leaves, whitish 

beneath. White flowers in June; 3 to 10 feet. Particularly valuable 
for its blue and bluish white fruit persisting in winter. Vigorous 
growing. Moist or dry soils. The cornels and dogwoods are among 
the most valuable of all shrubs, because of their many-coloured fruits 
for late summer and fall effects, and bright-coloured barks in winter, 
growing well in shade or exposed and in any soil. Flowers white in 
the species named here. Propagate from mature wood cuttings or 

Cornelian Cherry (Cornus Mas). Flowers yellow before the leaves. 
March to April in umbels; 20 feet, sometimes a small tree. Oblong, 
edible fruit, f inch long, bright scarlet. A very valuable larger 
shrub, attractive both spring and fall. Propagate like other cornus 
and cornel. 

Cranberry, High Bush. See Snowball. 

Currant, Flowering (Riles aureum). Flowers yellow, spicy fragrant. 
A favourite in old gardens. May; 4 feet. Bright green foliage, 
adapted to any good soil. Very effective among dark foliaged plants. 

Daphne (Daphne Mezereum). April; 3 feet. Reddish lilac, fragrant. 
Thick clusters of red berries in the summer. The earliest warm- 

178 The American Flower Garden 

coloured shrub that flowers before the leaves. (D- Gwenka). 

3 feet. The best lavender and nearest approach to blue among the 
shrubs flowering before the leaves. Not hardy North. Well-drained 
light soil, with partial shade for both kinds. Propagate by seeds, 
which germinate slowly, or layers in the spring. See also Garland 

Deutzia (D. Lemoinei). June; 3 feet. A new hybrid with larger 
flowers than the popular Pride of Rochester, which is taller growing 

and has the handsomest habit; double flowers, but pink. 

(D. gracilis). Slightly arching branches making a low-spreading 
bush; flowers single, white. May. All are hardy and thrive in any 
well-drained soil, and are among the best of the white-flowered shrubs. 
Propagate easily by greenwood and hardwood cuttings, also by seeds 
in spring. 

Dockmackie {Viburnum aceri folium). Slender, upright branches. 
Flowers yellowish white. May, June; 5 feet. 3 inches across. 
Fruit black. Foliage pinkish in autumn, becoming dark purple. 
Thrives in dryish soils under trees. Very valuable shrub. Prop- 
agate by seeds. 

Dogwood, Red Twigged (Cornus stolonifera). Best red-barked shrub 
for winter effects. Better than the European Red Osier dogwood 
(C. sanguined) with purple or dark blood-red branches. For best 

effect, cut back every two or three years to induce new growth. , 

Round Leaved (67. circinatd). Purplish branches, fruits light blue 
and greenish white. (See also Cornel.) 

Elder, Common (JSambucus nigra). Useful for pond borders and wild 

gardening. , Golden (S. nigra, var. aurea). 12 feet. The 

largest-leaved yellow shrub, especially for wet soils. Makes growth 
annually 10 feet. For lightening dense masses of green shrubbery. 
Better coloured if cut back frequently. Grows well in the shade. 

Eleagnus. See Goumi. 

Fringe Tree (Chionanthus Virginica). White. June; sometimes a 
slender tree to 30 feet; usually a large shrub. Slender thread-like 
flowers in June, after most other trees have flowered. Pretty blue 
berries all winter. Prefers a moist soil and must be sheltered in 
latitude of New England. Propagate by seeds in fall, also layers. 

Golden Bell (Forsythia suspensa). Long, gracefully drooping branches 
of yellow flowers before the leaves. 6 feet. The most showy early 

Shrubs 179 

flowering shrub of its colour. Good for foreground of shrubbery 

borders and on banks. (F. viridissima). Somewhat similar, 

with more flowers, but rather greenish colour and smaller, but holds 
its foliage later in the fall. Plant against dark background. Any 
garden soil. Propagate by cuttings any time, or seeds. 

Goumi (Eleagnus longipes). Whole plant covered with silvery scales. 
Reddish brown branchlets. Flowers yellowish white, inconspicuous 
but fragrant. April, May; 6 feet. Very showy scarlet fruit f inch 
long on long stalks and covered with scales. Acid; edible. (For soil 
and progagation see Oleaster.) 

Groundsel Bush (Baccharis halimifolia). 3 to 12 feet. Flowers 
in large panicles; dense, coarsely toothed foliage one to two inches 
long. One of the best seashore plants. Most effective in late 
summer when the silvery silken pappus on pistillate shrubs only is 
very conspicuous. Grows in any well-drained soil in sunny position. 
Propagate seeds or cuttings under glass. 

Honeysuckle, Fragrant (Lonicera fragrantissimd). Creamy white. 
March to May; 8 feet. Foliage half evergreen. Most fragrant of 

the very early shrubs. , Japan Bush (L. Morrowi). White, 

changing to yellow. May, June; 6 feet. Bright red, sometimes 

yellow, fruits August till late fall. , Manchurian (L. Ruprech- 

tiand). White, changing to yellow; 8 to 12 feet. , Tartarian 

(L. Tataricd). May; 8 to 10 feet. Not changing to yellow. Most 
fragrant of all the early summer shrubs, especially at dusk. Flowers 
pink; several varieties red or white. Plant in shrubbery where its 
presence is made known by the odour. Valuable as a low screen on 
seaside. Fruit red or orange. Propagate seeds in fall or ripe 
cuttings. Any good garden soil with sun. Prune in winter. 

Horse Chestnut, Dwarf (Msculus macrostachyd). Flowers like a 
diminutive slender horse chestnut. July, August; 4 to 20 feet. 
One of the handsomest for distant lawn clumps; flowers being 
borne erect on the top of the dome-like mass of foliage. Moist, 
loamy soil. Can be increased by root cuttings, layers, seeds. 

Hydrangea (H. paniculata, var. gr audi flora). September; 8 feet as 
generally grown. Immense conical flower heads of white bracts 
lasting into winter and becoming pink, then greenish, but white 
all through September. Most conspicuous white shrub in the fall 
for shrubbery hedge and lawn. Prune severely in winter for quantity 

180 The American Flower Garden 

of flower; less so for larger trusses. Give rich soil and feed well. 
Propagate summer cuttings. The type or species sometimes attains 
30 feet. More feathery, lighter heads of flower. ,Wild (H. ar- 
borescent). Flat flower head. Creamy white. June, July; 8 feet. 

Sterile form is Hills of Snow. , Hortensia (H. hortensis). 8 

feet. Flowers in large cymes without bracts. White, bluish, or pink. 
Few, or all, sterile. The greenhouse hydrangea; also for planting out 
in favoured situations. Will not usually stand much frost. An enor- 
mous number of varieties of this are offered in the trade, (a) Japon- 
ica Group: Cymes flat, sterile and fertile, (b) Hortensia Group: 
Cymes globose. Practically sterile; includes variety Thomas Hogg, 
the hardiest and best for outdoors, (c) Stellata Group: Flowers 
with narrow sepals. The blue colour of the flowers in these groups 
depends upon soil conditions, and may usually be induced in the 
following year by watering with a solution of alum (one ounce to 
three gallons) all the preceding summer while growth is being made. 

Indigo, Bastard {Amorpha fruticosd). Fine feathery foliage and 
spreading habit. 5 to 20 feet. Dark violet-purple flowers in racemes 

3 to 6 inches long. Adapted to small shrubberies, dry sunny situa- 
tions. Propagate by hardwood cuttings; also layers, suckers. 

Japan Quince (Cydonia Japonicd). May; 8 feet. Earliest, bright 
scarlet-flowered shrub. Useful also as a hedge. Plant as specimen. 
Slow growing. Subject to San Jose scale. Don't plant near deco- 
rative fruit trees or orchards unless systematically sprayed. Stands 
close pruning. Pink, salmon-pink, dark red, and white varieties. 

Kerria (Kerria Japonica). Flowers yellow, like single roses. May, 
June; 4 feet. Best graceful yellow-flowered shrub. Slender, 
pendulous branches, which remain bright green and effective all 
winter. Any garden soil. Double form and variegated form and 
dwarf with striped branches. Good as a specimen. Sometimes 
winter-kills in extreme North. Best in partial shade. Propagate 
cuttings, layers, or divisions. , White (Rhodoiypos kerrioides). 

4 to 5 feet. White, less profuse and later. Black berries retained 
all winter. 

Lilac, Common (Syringa vulgaris). May; 20 feet. Very fragrant lilac, 
white, or purple flowers. Grows anywhere, even in partial shade. 
Spray with potassium sulphide for mildew in August, September. 
Do not permit suckers to develop. Prune for form only. Most 

Shrubs 181 

popular old-fashioned summer flowering shrub. Transplant in 

autumn. , Hungarian (S. Josikaa). June; 12 feet. Violet. 

More compact panicle. Less handsome, but larger, more club-like 
blooms. , Chinese (S. Pekinensis). June; 15 feet. Hand- 
some foliage retained late in fall. Young plants do not flower well. 

, Persian (S. Persicd). Most profuse bloomer. May, June; 

5 to 10 feet. Loose, broad panicles; pale lilac, white. , 

Rouen (S. Chinensis). May; 12 feet. Arching branches; purple, 
lilac, red, white. Hybrid of the Persian and common. Many 
named modern varieties of lilacs are offered in the catalogues: 
Marie Le Graye, best white; Ludwig Spaeth, dark purple; Belle 
de Nancy, pink with white centre, double. The named varieties are 
usually grafted on common privet, which has a tendency to sucker 
unless planted very deeply. Deep planting may result in the lilac 
ultimately getting on its own roots. 

Magnolia, Hall's (Magnolia stellatd). Most fragrant and showiest 
white-flowered shrub blooming before the leaves. April; 10 feet. Very 
fragrant. Differing from the other magnolias by having star-like 
instead of cup-shaped flowers. Blooms from 2 feet high. Rich 
soil, moderately moist. Difficult to transplant. Best done in spring. 
Propagate seeds or layers. 

Maple, Japan (Acer palmatum in many varieties). 4 to 12 feet. Most 
important variously coloured and as variously cut deciduous small 
trees, but used as shrubs. Many named varieties in catalogues, as 
atropurpureum, sanguineum, aureum, dissectum, etc., which names 
also describe them. (See page 151). 

Mock Orange, Syringa (Philadelphus coronarius). May, June; 10 feet. 
The most fragrant summer-flowering white shrub. Flowers ij 
inches across. Several named varieties in the trade. This is the 
most fragrant species, but somewhat stiff in habit and not so showy 
as some others. The crushed leaves often have the odour of cucum- 
bers. (P. Lemoinei). Very graceful with arching branches 

covered with flowers. Many varieties of this, differing in size of 

flowers. (P. Gordonianus). Large flowers, but scentless. 12 

feet. , Golden (P. coronarius, var. aureus). Bright yellow. 10 

feet. The most popular golden-leaved shrub, keeping its colour the 
whole season. Compact habit. Effective as an accent close to the 
house, or on the "points" of a shrubbery border. (P. 

1 82 The American Flower Garden 

Falconeri). Arching, oblong, pointed petals. June; 8 feet. 

(P. inodorus). Flowers in clusters of i to 3. May, June. Less 
floriferous than others and is sometimes not quite hardy North. 

Mulberry, French (Callicarpa purpurea). Flowers pink, in July; 
3 to 4 feet. Grown for lilac-violet fruits which persist in dense 
clusters all along the stem into winter. Hardier than the native 
species, C. Americana, having more handsome violet-coloured fruits. 
Springs up from the roots and flowers the same season. Prefers 
sandy loam and heat. Full sun. Propagate by cuttings in spring 
or fall; also layers, seeds. 

Mulberry, Tea's Weeping (Morus alba, var. Tatarica pendula). 
Grafted at 4 feet. A small tree with severely pendulous branches 
with fairly deep-lobed leaves. Spreads a few feet only. For small 
gardens where some special character tree is wanted. Good for 
covering steep banks. Best small weeping tree for lawns. 

Nanny Berry. See Sheep Berry. 

New Jersey Tea (Ceanothus Americanus). July to September; 3 feet. 
One of the freest flowering and latest blooming shrubs. White. 
Excellent for shaded places, dry woods, etc. Propagate by seeds 
and soft wood cuttings in spring, mature wood in autumn. 

Ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius). Spreading, arching branches. 
Flowers in corymbs, greenish white, followed by bright red fruit; 
very effective in late summer. 8 to 10 feet. One of the best hardy 
native shrubs. Any garden soil and situation. Propagate by seeds 
or cuttings. 

Oleaster, Russian Olive (Eleagnus an gush folia). 20 feet. l Hand- 
some foliage with silvery under sides. Inconspicuous flowers, followed 
by ornamental fruit. June. Fragrant. Berries yellow. Also 
coated with silvery scales. Branches sometimes spiny. Any well- 
drained soil, including limestone. Propagates by seeds and cuttings 
very easily; also root cuttings and layers. 

Pearl Bush (Exochorda grandifiora). May; 8 feet. White flowers 2 
inches across, with large green disc. Like a giant-flowered spirea, 
but blooming a trifle later. Very useful in shrubbery, best massed 
with other shrubs; especially effective with Forsythia suspensa in 
foreground. Grows in any good soil. Propagate seeds, cuttings, 
layers. Only old plants produce fruits. 

Pinxter Flower. See Azalea. 

Shrubs 183 

Plum, Flowering (Prunus triloba). Pink flowers, double, appearing just 
before the leaves. May, June; 4 to 5 feet. Own root plants best 
by layering. Often grafted on plum as a standard, but then short 

lived. Much like flowering almond, but hairy. , Purple (P. 

Pissardi). Grown for its purple foliage. Flowers pale pink, small. 

Privet, Regel's (Ligustrum Ibota, var. Regelianuni). June, July; 8 
feet, but usually a much smaller plant. The only privet worth 
growing for its flowers. Borne in pendant tassels on almost horizon- 
tally spreading branches. Valuable on banks. , Golden 

(var. variegaturri). 8 feet. Green and yellow. The quickest 
growing variegated shrub that can be sheared with impunity. For 
small edgings or borders to walks and for formal effects. Use 
judiciously in all cases. Not absolutely hardy, but usually safe. 
Propagated easily by cuttings. See also Hedges, p. 189. 

Raspberry, Flowering (Rubus odoratus). 3 to 5 feet. Strong growing 
with shreddy bark. Leaves like a large maple. Flowers rose-purple, 
1 inch across. Good for semi-wild effects. Isolate from other 

Rhodora (Azalea Canadensis). Flowers rose-purple in clusters of five 
to seven. A common native plant throughout Eastern North 
America. April, May; 1 to 3 feet. The earliest flowering hardy 
azalea. Best on loose, peaty soil. 

Rose of Sharon, Althea (Hibiscus Syriacus). The best (or maybe 
the worst) August and late summer flowering tall shrub. 12 feet. 
Starts to leaf very late in the spring. Valuable for screens. Plant 
very early in the fall, but best in spring. Flowers on old wood. 
Variegated form. Many varieties with single and double flowers 
ranging from white through pink to magenta and purple; also varie- 
gated foliage; 18 feet. The single white, pure pink and lavender- 
blue varieties are very lovely, but some harsh hued altheas and 

weigelas are the ugliest shrubs in common cultivation. 

(H. Syriacus, var. fl.-pl.foliis variegatis). 15 feet, leaves green, edged 
light yellow. Sturdiest late-flowering variegated shrub. Quite hardy, 
stands shearing. The purple flowers are double and not showy. 

Rose, Rugosa (Rosa rugosa). 3 feet. The only rose that makes an 
ornamental shrub. Dense mass of dark green foliage with large 
flowers produced at intervals all summer; fragrant. Magenta to 
pure white. Fruits very ornamental like small apples, orange-yellow. 

184 The American Flower Garden 

Best hybrids: Blanc double de Coubert, white; Conrad Ferdinand 
Meyer, silvery rose. All soils, including seaside. Do not prune. 
Propagate by seeds or named varieties by hard wood cuttings. 
Sheep Berry, Nanny Berry {Viburnum Lentago). White flowers. 
May, June, 30 feet. In cymes followed by clusters of oval bluish 
black fruit with bloom, which endure till spring. Sometimes a tree. 

Senna. See Bladder Senna. 

Siberian Pea (Caragana arborescens). Pale or bright yellow pear-like 
flowers. May and June; up to 20 feet. Sometimes a tree. Variety 
pendular with weeping branches is very beautiful. Any soil, but 
sandy preferred. Sunny position. Propagate by seeds, fall or spring, 
root cuttings and layers. Best yellow flowered shrub of its season. 

Smoke Bush (Rhus Cotinus). Small flowers in loose panicles becoming 
profusely plumose in June, July; 10 to 12 feet. Very effective as 
lawn specimens. Leaves nearly round, dark green. A very charac- 
teristic shrub, common in old gardens. Attacked by borers. 

Snowball, Common (Viburnum Opulus, var. sterile). Large balls of 
white flowers. May, June; 9 feet. Old-time favourite. Ragged 
habit and subject to plant louse. Deep moist soil. The fertile form 
of this shrub is the Highland cranberry, having scarlet fruit in July 

till following spring. , Japan (V. tomentosum). Is a much 

better shrub, especially for specimens. Flower heads more 
rounded, cleaner, leaves crinkled and deeper green, brown on the' 
reverse. Blooms a little later. The best white large flowered 
summer shrub. May be trained on walls. Propagate by cuttings. 

Snowberry (Symphoricarpos racemosus). Clusters of large snow white 
berries, at intervals along the slender branches. An old-time favour- 
ite. Grows anywhere. Flowers pink but inconspicuous. May, 
June; 5 feet. Berries from late June till after frost. Spreads 
rapidly by suckers. 

Silver Bell, Snowdrop Tree (Halesia tetraptera). White. May. 
10 feet. Bewildering cloud of white flowers before the leaves. The 
most conspicuous of the early white flowering trees. Any good soil. 
Habit twiggy and pendulous. 

Spice Bush (Benzoin odoriferum). 6 to 15 feet. Leaves oblong, finely 
ciliate, bright green. Flowers yellow, before the leaves, in rosettes. 
One of the earliest flowering shrubs with aromatic bark. Fruit 

Shrubs 185 

crimson, spicy. Foliage bright yellow in fall. Peaty and sandy 
soils. Propagate by greenwood cuttings under glass or by seeds. 
See also Strawberry Shrub. 

Spirea (Various species of Spireea). White or pink. May, June; 
4 to 6 feet. The most generally popular flowering shrubs of light, 
graceful habit for early summer, as lawn specimens, hedges, or in 

shrubbery. , Bridal Wreath (S. Thunbergii). Perhaps the 

most popular lawn shrub; profusion of small white flowers, feathery 
effect; May; finely cut bright green foliage all summer, turning 
to shades of red and yellow in fall; wood slender; makes excellent 

hedge. , Van Houtte's (S. Fan Houttei). June; 6 feet. 

The most showy of the spireas; flowers in umbels two inches across. 
Handsome foliage all summer. Plant in conspicuous place with 
ample room. Cut out flowering wood in summer. Thrives any- 
where. , Anthony Waterer (S. Bumalda, var. Anthony 

Waterer). July; 3 feet. The only shrub of its period. Flowers 
magenta-red produced successively for six weeks. Used for edging. 
Prune off old flower head as soon as withered if second crop is 

wanted. , Plum-Leaved (S. prunifolid). Slender branches, 

slightly hairy. Flowers in small umbels. Pure white, 1^ inch across. 
May; 6 feet. The double form (var. fiore plena) with little 
white buttons, particularly showy and most commonly grown. 

Foliage not shining. Bright orange in fall. (S. argutd). 

White. May; 6 feet. The most free flowering and showiest 
of the early kinds. A hybrid from Thunberg's and quite hardy. 
The other parent (S. multi-fiord) blooms a little later, but 

otherwise similar. , Steeple Bush (5. tomentosa). Flowers 

in dense narrow panicles. Pink. July, September; 4 feet. Does 
not sucker like others of this section. Specially valuable late bloom- 
ing shrub. , Meadowsweet (S. alba). Similar, but with 

white flowers, somewhat looser. June, August. See also Goat's 
Beard, in Perennials, p. 222. 

Spirea, Blue. See Blue Spirea. 

Stagger Bush (Pieris Mariana). Nodding flowers, in clusters, on 
leafless branches of the previous year. Pinkish white. April, May; 
2 to 4 feet. Moderately moist, well-drained porous soil, in partial 
shade. Avoid limestone and heavy clay. Plant with rhododendrons. 
Propagate by layers or cuttings in heat. 

1 86 The American Flower Garden 

Storax (Styrax Japonicd). Often a tree. Flowers white, \ inch across 
in tassels, profusely strung all over the young growths. Hardy to 
Massachusetts. One of the most beautiful summer shrubs. June, 

July; up to 30 feet. (S. Obassia). Larger fragrant flowers. 

Light porous soils. The best white tassel flowering summer shrub. 

Strawberry Bush (Euonymus Americanus). Very attractive in fall, 
with expanded capsules showing pink berries. Flowers incon- 
spicuous in June; 8 feet. Grows anywhere. Easily propagated. 

Strawberry Shrub (Calycanthus floridus). An upright shrub with 
somewhat coarse leaves. Deep red-brown flowers with pungent, 
spicy odour. May; 6 to 10 feet. Propagate by division or layers. 
Any garden soil. An old favourite. 

Sumach, Stag Horn (Rhus typhind). Velvety, hairy foliage. Flowers 
in dense panicle, followed by red fruit masses. July, August; usually 
10 to 12 feet, sometimes 30. One of the best for fall colour. Adapted 
to driest soils in wild or semi-wild situations. Var. laciniata has 

deeply cut foliage. , Smooth (S. glabra). 10 to 15 feet. Similar, 

but not hairy, very commonly planted in dense masses. There is a 

cut-leaved variety (var. laciniata). , Poison (R. venenata). 

10 to 20 feet. Usually a tree. Very effective with red petiole and 
midrib with pinnate leaves. Shiny leaves, fruit white. Moist 
ground. Very beautiful, but poisonous. 

Sweet Pepper Bush (Clethra alnifolia). July, September; 3 to 10 feet. 
Fleecy spires, white flowers with spicy fragrance; much visited by 
bees; excellent for late summer blooming, mixed shrubberies. Best 
for naturalising along streams and ponds. Moist peaty or sandy soil. 
One of the best late flowering shrubs, adapted to a variety of situations. 

Syringa. See Mock Orange. 

Tamarix (Tamarix Gallica). Delicate pink plumes. May, July; 15 
feet. Foliage very fine and plumy also. Unexcelled for salty and 
alkaline soils. Grows right on the sea side. Can be cut back 
severely. Flowers produced on old wood but in the variety Nar- 
bonnensis on the new wood. The best hardy shrubs for feathery 
effect in wind-swept places. (Seep. 191.) 

Tree Peony (Pceonia Moutari). May, June; 3 to 6 feet. Immense 
rosy, magenta, crimson, pink or white flowers 1 foot across. The 
largest flowered early shrub. An immense number of varieties are 

Shrubs 187 

offered; the best are grafted on common magenta stock which 
should not be allowed to develop. Give rich garden soil. Easily 
raised from seed. 

Viburnum. See Snowball, Dockmackie, Arrowwood, Nanny 
Berry, Wayfaring Tree, High Bush Cranberry. 

Wax Myrtle (Myrica ceriferd). 3 to 6 feet. Dark green leaves, berries 
bluish white, coated with wax, with aromatic odour, and much sought 
by birds. Good for semi-wild effects. 

Wayfaring Tree (Viburnum Lantand). Flowers white in cymes 3 
inches across with seven showy white rays on the margin. May, 
June; up to 20 feet, sometimes a tree. Excellent for dry situation 
and limestone soils. Fruit bright red, changing to black. 

Weigela (JDiervilla floridd). June; 6 feet. Showiest shrub of midsum- 
mer. Following the lilacs. Flowers pink, white, red, claret-crim- 
son to magenta. Best flowering shrubs under big trees. Can be 
planted where other shrubs fail. Free from insects and disease. 
Cut out old wood to the ground. Many varieties, as: Abel Carriere 
and Rosea, carmine changing to red; Alba, changing to pink; Eva 
Rathke, dark wine red; Candida, pure white; Nana variegata, 
dwarf, variegated leaves. 

Witch Hazel {Hamamelis Virginiand). Flowers yellow and brown. 
September, October, followed by conspicuous fruits which, brought 

indoors in winter, will explode and scatter seed; 25 feet. 

(H. Japonicd). Flowers February to April. Foliage bright yellow, 
orange, or purple in fall. Moist, peaty and sandy soil. Most 
valuable shrub of early winter. 

Yellow Root (Xanthorrhiza apiifolid) . Flowers small, purplish. April; 
1 to 20 feet. In drooping racemes. Any good soil but best in 
moist and shady places. Suckers freely in spring. Golden yellow 
in autumn. Stems and roots bright yellow. Not quite hardy North. 

The Very Best Trees and Shrubs for Hedges 

[In the following list are included only such plants as will stand shearing, for obviously 
any moderate growing shrub of low stature can be utilised for hedge purposes. Such may 
be selected from the list of Deciduous Shrubs, p. 175, and Evergreens, p. 155.] 

Ashberry, Holly-leaved (Berberis or Mahonia Aquifolium). Ever- 
green and hardy, but foliage sometimes burns in winter. Tassels 

1 88 The American Flower Gajden 

of golden yellow flowers in May, followed by black purple berries 
with heavy bloom. 3 to 4 feet. 

Barberry, Japan (Berberis Thunbergii). The best low ornamental 
defensive hedge plant. Foliage brilliant scarlet in fall; graceful 
arching twigs strung with red berries, persistent through winter; 

3 to 3J feet; quick grower; thrives North and South. , Common 

(5. vulgaris). Taller, not so neat, but hardy and decorative. 

Beech (Fagus sylvatica). Slow growing, very long lived, carrying 
foliage nearly all winter. Excellent screen. Plant very early. 
Valuable as a windbreak where evergreens are not suitable. Pre- 
fers dry, sandy loam or limestone soil. 

Boxwood (Buxus sempervirens). The ideal hedge and edging plant 
for formal gardens. Dense habit. Evergreen. Moderately rapid 
grower. Can be sheared freely. There are several varieties (see 
page 156); the tree box attains a height of 30 feet; dwarf box, 3 
to 4 feet; others differ in size and form of leaf. Needs winter 
mulch at the North. 

Buckthorn (Rhamnus cathartica). The best strong hedge, as dense 
and tight as honey locust, but not so high; 6 feet. Thorny, never 
ragged, moderate grower. Spray with kerosene emulsion for 
hop louse. Old hedges that are out of condition are easily recovered 
by cutting back. 

Coniferous Evergreen. In the North the coniferous evergreens 
are by far the most satisfactory hedge plants for all purposes. 
Of these the native hemlock is best, thriving everywhere. Young 
growth extremely feathery and whole plant lively green all the 
winter. — Norway spruce, somewhat similar but stiffer and blacker. — 
White pine, long needles of light gray green. — Arborvitae is best 
small-foliaged dense-growing plant, making very compact hedge 
up to 20 feet. Stands shearing. Excellent for low soils and swamps. 
Plants from dry soils transplant badly. — Siberian arborvitae is 
greener in winter. — Yew: unfortunately this favourite European 
hedge plant is unreliable in America unless potected in winter 
from strong wind and sunshine. For hedge purposes the 
hemlock is its substitute. (For full descriptions see Evergreens, 
pp. 155 to 162.) 

Holly (Ilex opacd). The native American holly, an excellent slow- 
growing evergreen which stands moderate shearing. Will grow 

Shrubs 189 

throughout the Atlantic Coast. Best hedge plant for sandy soil. 
In the South IlexCassme, with small arbutus-like leaves and brilliant 
red berries all winter, is better. 

Hydrangea, Hardy {Hydrangea paniculata, var. grandi flora). Best 
flowering hedge for late summer. Immense white cones of bloom. 
August, September. (See p. 179.) 

Laurel, Mountain (Kalmia latifolia). For tall and broad screen up 
to 10 feet. Must not be sheared. Pinkish white flower clusters in 
May, June, are highly decorative. Well-drained soil, succeeding 
even in rocky places in New England. Evergreen. 

Locust, Honey (Gleditschia triacanthos). For a strong, high defence. 
The thorniest of all. "Bull strong, horse high, and pig tight." 
Perfectly hardy, fast and vigorous grower; suckers. Plant thickly 
and prune severely. Mice girdle in winter. Spring trimmings must 
be burned. Needs strict control. 

Magnolia (Magnolia glauca). Excellent south of New York. Large 
glaucous leaves becoming evergreen in the real South. One of the 
best for windbreaks. Beautiful in flower. M. conspicua and 
M. Soulangeana make most striking ornamental flowering hedges. 
(See Trees, p. 149.) 

Mahonia., See Ashberry. 

Osage Orange (Toxylon pomiferum). Grows in any soil. Makes a 
dense defensive high hedge as far north as Massachusetts. Unless 
regularly trimmed, the top branches will spread. Will exhaust 
soil on each side for some feet. 

Orange, Trifoliate (Citrus trifoliata). Best medium height, impene- 
trable hedge for the South, where it is evergreen. Deciduous in the 
North. Foliage yellow in fall. Not reliably hardy north of Philadel- 
phia. White flowers in May, followed by small yellow fruits, make 
it ornamental also. Set one foot apart and cut back to 8 inches. 
Give two trimmings annually. 

Privet, Amoor (Ligustrum ' Amurense). Evergreen except in extreme 
cold situations; more spreading habit than California privet, and 
darker green. A valuable hedge plant, especially in the South, 
enduring both heat and cold and on any soil not an actual swamp. 

In rich soil will give good hedge in two years. , California 

(L. ovali folium). For shelter. Fastest growing. Stands salt spray. 

190 The American Flower Garden 

Good soil binder. Stands severest pruning and. can be trained high 
or low. Most popular hedge plant in modern gardens. Free from 
disease and stands shearing with impunity. Almost evergreen. 
Foliage bright green in summer, becoming bronze in winter. Occa- 
sionally winter kills to the ground in the North. Set 6 inches deeper 
than in the nursery and cut back to 6 inches or less. Set 12 inches 

apart, or up to 2 feet in very rich ground. , Regel's (L. Ibota, 

var. Regelianum). Low growing, denser habit with spreading, 
drooping branches clothed with white tassels in June; 8 feet. Useful 
as a border hedge to plantations and along roadways. Should not 
be planted as a protection. The best of the flowering privets. 
Lower, denser habit than Ibota. 

Quince, Japan (Cydonia Japonica). Most showy defensive hedge of 
spring. Bright scarlet flowers in May. Spreading spiny branches 
making strong low defence, growing six feet high. Do not prune too 
close. Subject to San Jose scale. Best defensive hedge for flower 

Rose, Rugosa (Rosa rugosa). Best rose for hedge purposes growing 
right on the seaside. Much used in Newport, R. I. Flowers 
magenta to pure white, slightly fragrant, produced all summer. 
Large apple-like fruits. Grows three feet high and does not need 
shearing. (See p. 183.) Other roses for effect are Marie Pavie 
and other polyanthas. (See Roses, p. 309.) The native rose, R. 
lucida, is excellent for low border hedge, carrying fruits till winter. 
Should be cut back entirely every few years. 

Rose of Sharon {Hibiscus Syriacus). Sturdiest and largest flowered 
hedge. Leafs late in spring. . Blooms in August, September. 
Select good pink or white varieties. Prune in winter for profusion of 
flowers. Do not permit the plants to run up, leaving the base bare. 
Set 3 feet apart. 

Spindle Tree (Euonymus Japonicus). South of Washington one of 
the best hedge plants, and does well in the North with shelter. The 
bright pink and orange fruits recall the bittersweet. A climbing 
variety (var. radicans) is an excellent evergreen vine and is hardy in 
New England. There are various colour variations in the foliage. 

Spirea, Van Houtte's (Spirxa Van Houttei). Best white-flowered 
hedge. Handsome foliage all summer. Good informal hedge and 

Shrubs 191 

also especially suitable for formal gardens, as it does not run riot. 
Prune out old wood in summer immediately after flowering. (For 
other spireas see p. 185). 
Tamarix (Tamarix Gallicd). Unexcelled for saline and alkaline soils, 
growing on the salt water's edge where nothing else will. Flowers 
feathery, pink, on old wood in the type; but on new wood in variety 
Narbonnensis. Foliage fine and feathery. (See p. 186.) 



"I. Whatever is worth growing at all is worth growing well. 

"II. Study soil and exposure, and cultivate no more space than can be 
maintained in perfect order. 

" III. Plant thickly; it is easier and more profitable to raise flowers than 

"IV. Avoid stiffness and exact balancing; garden vases and garden 
flowers need not necessarily be used in pairs. 

" V. A flower is essentially feminine and demands attention as the price of 
its smiles. 

"VI. Let there be harmony and beauty of colour. Magenta in any form is 
a discord that should never jar. 

" VII. In studying colour effects, do not overlook white as a foil; white is 
the lens of the garden's eye. 

" VIII. Think twice and then still think before placing a tree, shrub, or 
plant in position. Think thrice before removing a specimen tree. 

" IX. Grow an abundance of flowers for cutting; the bees and butterflies are 
not entitled to all the spoils. 

" X. Keep on good terms with your neighbour; you may wish a large garden 
favour of him, some day. 

" XI. Love a flower in advance and plant something every year. 

" XII. Show me a well-ordered garden and I will show you a genial home." 

— George H. Ellwanger. 



FLOWERING plants that live or perpetuate themselves 
from year to year, giving one a high rate of com- 
pound interest as their numbers and beauty naturally 
increase, commend themselves to us more and more until, happily, 
they are coming to be regarded again, as they were in our 
grandmothers' day, as the very basis of a • good garden. 
We may be sure that pioneer gentlewomen, who were their own 
gardeners chiefly, and who had to cook, churn, spin, weave 
and sew by hand all the clothing for large families, nurse them 
and dose them with home-made medicines, make quilts, 
candles, wine, and a thousand other things which would stagger 
the pampered modern woman, learned which plants rewarded 
a minimum amount of care with a maximum amount of 
flowers. A few moments snatched from multitudinous house- 
hold cares from time to time sufficed to keep our grandmothers' 
gardens gay from earliest spring to frost, and it is little wonder 
that their favourites have stood the test of time. We still love 
their peonies, hollyhocks, and phloxes. Some fraxinella in an 
old New England garden has outlived great-grandmother, grand- 
mother, mother and daughter. One plants perennials for beauty 
that is permanent. They are for the affections, too. 

Compared with tender annuals, whose seeds must be sown 
every spring, many of them indoors or under glass, their seed- 
lings transplanted to the open ground at the busiest time of the 
garden year, how refreshingly easy of culture the perennials are! 


19 6 The American Flower Garden 

After all one's care bestowed on annuals, it gives positive pain 
to witness their death, root and branch, with the first frost; 
whereas the hardy herbaceous plants merely go to sleep in autumn 
preparing for a more glorious resurrection in the spring. 
Several weeks before the earliest annual is ready to open a bud 
out of doors, the hardy garden is lovely with snowdrops and 
crocuses, creeping phlox, myrtle, English daisies, pink and white 
saxifrages, daffodils, sweet rocket, bleeding heart, lily-of-the- 
valley, columbines, clove pinks, narcissus, peonies and iris, some 
of which began to bloom before the last snowdrift melted. We 
welcome them joyfully, like old friends returned. It is an event- 
ful day when some pet plant pushes its way back to sight through 
the lately frozen earth. If old flowers are kept cut, and no seed 
is permitted to form, the well-regulated hardy garden will afford 
a constant succession of bloom from the earliest snowdrop until 
the Japanese anemone, chrysanthemum and Christmas rose finally 
succumb to inexorable winter. 

Annuals are seemingly cheap because the seeds come in five- 
cent packages, and few consider that they have to be annually 
renewed or calculate the value of the time consumed in trans- 
planting the seedlings from boxes or hotbeds to the open ground. 
They leave the ground in autumn as bare as it was in spring, the 
entire investment of money and labour having disappeared. But 
long after the first frost some perennials bloom and others con- 
tinue growing, even in winter, whenever the temperature rises; 
and either by virtue of their own hardy constitutions, or of creeping 
roots that will send forth new crowns in spring, or of self-sown 
seeds, they all insure perpetuation and increase. 

Perennials are usually offered in the catalogues as well-grown 
plants at a cost of from one dollar to three dollars or more a dozen ; 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 197 

and one who has taken the pains to count the surprising number 
of plants in even a modest little garden might well be appalled 
at the price of a new one composed entirely of nursery stock. 
But when it is remembered that the first cost of a perennial is its 
only cost, that a large stock can be speedily worked up from 
small beginnings, that the gaps in the new beds or borders may 
be filled in with annuals for a few years until the hardy plants 
have sufficiently increased to overspread the bare places, that 
many perennials grow from seed as readily as annuals, and that 
patience, rather than money, is required to establish home-grown 
vigorous stock, the argument for economy must be decided finally 
in favor of permanent plants. Otherwise, how could every 
cottager in Europe contrive to have his little dooryard bright 
with them ? They are secured at practically no cost, the casta- 
ways from large estates supplying the workmen on them with 
gleanings from which their neighbours profit in time. When the 
old-fashioned garden gave place to geometric patterns of tender 
bedding plants on the fair lawns of England in the Victorian era 
of ugliness, many choice perennials would have perished from 
the land had they not been treasured by the humble, who were 
able to propagate plants from their old stock and restore them 
to the gentry of the parish when the hardy garden happily came 
into vogue again later in the nineteenth century. 

Winter is the best time to make a garden which, in any case, 
should be prepared on paper, to be pored over and dreamed about 
months before a spade is struck into the earth. What visions 
of beauty flash upon the inner eye ! What bliss of solitude comes 
to the garden lover planning his plots before a wood fire after 
the winter crop of catalogues has been gathered into his libraryl 
His imagination compasses all joys, but no difficulties. There will 

198 The American Flower Garden 

be flowers for tender association's sake in his dream garden, 
flowers to give away by the armful, larkspurs for the Sunday 
evening tea-table when the old Nankin china is used, gaillardias 
to fill the Indian baskets on his bookshelves, bee balm and colum- 
bine to attract humming birds next his porch, phloxes to help 
him add to his butterfly collection, Madonna lilies for the church 
altar, roses for the June brides, white flowers in abundance that 
his garden may be lovely after dark when all other colours are 
absorbed into the night, clove pinks for fragrance, irises for stately 
form, hollyhocks for bold effects, candytuft whose snow is not 
melted by sunshine, love-in-a-mist and honesty because they have 
pretty names, Iceland poppies for their wealth of exquisite orange, 
yellow and white tissue flowers from May to October, London 
pride that grew in his mother's garden on the old farm, and a 
miscellaneous assortment of other flowers because they are 
beguilingly described or temptingly cheap — no Chinaman's 
opium dream in the Flowery Kingdom was ever more kaleido- 

After an orgie among the catalogues which, needless to say, 
is the worst possible way to begin a garden, albeit the most pop- 
ular method, the dreamer must realise that the section of the 
home grounds where perennials are to be grown needs to be 
drawn to scale and planned even more carefully than other parts 
of the place, for there colour, the most subtle and perplexing of 
problems, becomes the principal factor of success. The border, 
the old-fashioned or the formal garden, or wherever the prob- 
lematical plants are to be set out, will be charted and divided into 
twenty-foot units of space, and the position of every plant indicated 
by a number corresponding to the number assigned each flower 
on the dreamer's list. This planting list should indicate not only 






.. :>* 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 199 

the colour of the flowers, but their season of bloom, the height 
of the plant and its preferences for soil and situation. Three charts 
are necessary to show the effect of the planting in spring, summer 
and autumn. If a section that is glorious in May should be 
barren of bloom a month later, another group of plants must be 
introduced. If the colours of eighteen and nineteen conflict, it 
is far easier for the gardener and better for the plants to move 
one of them on paper than if it were rooted in the earth. Eighteen 
may be the very plant needed to reconcile seven to six. Five 
may be most lovely next nineteen. If all the permanent plants 
needed for a border cannot be afforded at the outset, or if no 
desired perennial will supply a crying need for a certain colour at 
a certain season, recourse may be had to annuals for quick results. 
Restraint in a garden, as at a feast, is preferable to excess. 
It is a safe rule to limit one's list to the indispensables at first, and 
never to buy a plant whose need is not realised in one's saner 
moments after the spring garden fever subsides. Fitting flowers 
to suit one another, the climate, the soil and exposure, it may be 
inferred, is an intricate scientific and artistic feat. The foreign 
firm who make a speciality of hardy herbaceous borders arranged 
for continuous bloom and harmonious colour effects for English 
gardens, fill a want deeply felt by the inexperienced on our side 
of the sea. All the plants needed to fill a border one hundred and 
twenty-five feet long by eighteen feet wide, as indicated on a spaced 
and carefully marked chart, are supplied for about four hundred 
and sixty dollars. Few Americans take their perennials so seri- 
ously. Nor are many of us willing to miss the fun of blundering 
along through many mistakes, if need be, toward an ideal which 
ever eludes attainment as it rises higher and higher, year by year, 
with the growth of the critical faculty. Every zealous amateur 

2oo The American Flower Garden 

has a dark past to look back upon, and realises that his task is in 
active evolution. A ready-made garden, no matter how correct, 
could no more be tolerated by a true lover of the gentle art than 
the ready-made library which Silas Lapham bought to match 
his upholstery. 

If ready-grown stock is to be ordered, be sure it comes from 
a reliable nurseryman who is not colour blind. The best plants 
are cheapest in the end; indeed, they are the only ones that it 
pays to buy. Strange to say, few dealers in the world guarantee 
seeds and plants to be as represented in their catalogues, and 
the purchaser who, having ordered one variety receives another, 
has, in most cases, no redress. Perhaps the most reliable firm 
in the United States give "no warranty, express or implied, as to 
description, quality, productiveness, or any other matter of any 
seeds, bulbs or plants" they send out, and they will not be " in any' 
way responsible for the crop." What other class of merchants 
could hope to sell goods on such terms ? 

If the plants themselves are a disappointment, how much 
more exasperating is it to sow seeds of perennials that will not 
flower for two years and then to find that few, perhaps not any, 
have come true to name! The hollyhocks that should have borne 
single flowers of crepe-like texture and pastel tints produce stalks 
heavily freighted with tight wads of crude-coloured shaving paper, 
apparently. The old-fashioned single hollyhock, beloved by 
artists but rarely listed now, has suffered much at the hands of 
the modern hybridiser with a passion for multiplying petals 
until the natural form of this most decorative old flower is almost 
lost through alleged improvements. Out of the fifty Japanese 
irises of "crystalline whiteness like moonlight on snow" that you 
order from a specialist with a genius for poetic description, forty- 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 201 

three, perhaps, will be purple or mauve. Peonies that should 
be "exquisite silvery pink" blush to reveal themselves a vivid 
magenta. Larkspurs described in the catalogue as of that celes- 
tial light blue known by the Chinese as "the sky washed by rain," 
prove to be double, club-shaped flowers of such deep, dark indigo 
as only a Chinese laundryman knows the value. Plants not 
hardy north of Philadelphia are frequently listed without reference 
to that fact in catalogues sent by the thousand into the New 
England States and Canada. 

But a polite note dispassionately stating one's grievance to 
the head of the firm will usually bring forth in him fruits meet 
for repentance — there will be an offer to exchange the plants 
you did not order for those you did, express charges paid. The 
time lost cannot be refunded, it is true, but you are mollified 
until the next blooming season comes around, when it is quite 
likely that the second attempt to fill your order correctly proves 
to be no more successful than the first. After three fruitless 
efforts to get my favourite larkspur from a perfectly honest but 
careless or colour-blind nurseryman who makes a specialty of 
hardy flowers, after seeing a twice-planted hedge of altheas, 
supposed to bear single white flowers, produce double magenta 
and lilac ones, after suffering eye strain from deep purple, Hoboken 
pink, indigo, puce and other herbaceous horrors that have to be 
dug up and consigned to the compost heap to save the garden 
from a nightmare of ugliness, thereby losing over a third of all 
the stock purchased and a year of time, I would warn the reader 
that his only safety lies in visiting the nursery when the plants 
desired are in bloom and labelling them then and there. Appar- 
ently there is the grossest carelessness, even among leading 
nurserymen, about segregating stock to fit the descriptions given 

202 The American Flower Garden 

in the catalogues, and there is no generally accepted colour scale 
as a guide. The standardising of colours is the most crying need 
in the trade. What is a "lovely rosy purple" to the Dutchman 
may be an excruciating magenta to you or me. French dealers, 
apparently, have a truer eye for colour, and their enlightened 
republic publishes a chart of standardised colours. The lament- 
able truth is that, as yet, an insignificant number of cultivated 
Americans take a sufficiently keen interest in their gardens 
to insist that they reflect their own taste, not the nurseryman's 
nor the gardener's. Very few complaints are received when 
orders are not filled accurately; a phlox is a phlox to the vast 
majority of people who have not learned to discriminate between 
the washy pink-purples of old stock that is trying to revert to the 
type and the brilliant orange scarlet of the Coquelicot, the finest 
red yet known, the great white snowballs of the Queen that blows 
later than the lovely Miss Lingard, and the soft chamois rose 
and salmon tints of new hybrids. Indeed, many catalogues 
merely offer hardy phloxes of assorted colours at so much a dozen, 
with no attempt at a description. Yet an indiscriminate collec- 
tion of perennial phloxes is, perhaps, the most excruciating of 
all eye shockers. 

The cheapest way to grow many of the perennials and biennials, 
and usually the surest method of getting only those you want, 
is to grow them from seed collected from friends. One of the 
most beautiful hardy gardens I ever saw was in England, and 
the hundreds of vigorous plants had actually cost the owner, the 
rector of a village church, less than ten shillings. Specialising 
at the outset on a strain of superb larkspurs grown from seed 
given him by a parishioner, he had worked up a stock for exchange 
with specialists in other perennials until, after eight years, he 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 203 

owned a remarkable collection of the choicest flowers in a little 
garden of his own tending that people drove miles to see. Two 
hours a day were all he permitted himself to spend upon it, yet 
it was in faultless order, and there were always flowers for every 
visitor to carry away and flowers for every room in his charming 
little house. When Wordsworth lived in Dove Cottage with his 
sister Dorothy, on an income of eighty pounds a year, she con- 
trived to have a hardy garden, some of her precious daffodils 
and perennials persisting there to this day. Charles Kingsley's 
favourite plants which he raised in the garden at Eversley are still 
cherished there by his daughter. 

Seed that is kept long out of the ground loses much of its 
vitality, which is why it is well to plant it as soon as possible 
after it ripens. It is a safe precaution against slow germination 
to soak it over night. In any case some seeds take weeks to sprout. 
Long after you have counted them dead they may rise to glory. 
Every place requires a seed bed, large or small, according to the 
demands made upon it. Perhaps no gardener ever thought 
he had land enough for his vegetables, intense cultivation and 
scientific rotation of crops being meaningless phrases to the 
average man with the hoe. But, in spite of his protests and 
possible grudge, it is well to sacrifice a few carrots and cabbages, 
if need be, to a plant nursery. Is not "the beautiful as useful 
as the useful"? Few perennials or biennials bloom the first 
year, and their unadorned infancy should be passed in the seclu- 
sion of a nursery near the water supply in the kitchen garden. 

In July, or as soon as some early crop like peas, radishes, 
or lettuce has been gathered, deeply fork the ground that was 
well enriched in the spring, and thoroughly rake it again and 
again to pulverise the soil. If the ground be heavy, lighten it 

204 The American Flower Garden 

with Band and rotted sod fibre or leaf-mould, and sift soil enough 
to spread over the top of the bed to the depth of one inch. Tender 
young rootlets cannot push their way through clay or heavy soil 
or stones as they are so often expected to do. The seeds, previously 
soaked, should be shaken up lightly in a little earth to separate 
them, and then sown in the sifted soil at a depth proportionate 
to their size — the tiny seeds of hardy poppies, for example, on 
the surface of the bed, larger ones relatively deeper. Then all 
must be pressed down firmly with a board or the palm of the 
hand to bring the earth in contact with the first hair-like roots 
that will reach out in search of food. Probably more seeds fail 
to grow through having air spaces around them than from any 
other cause. The danger is lest seeds, however carefully planted, 
may dry out, which is why some people go to the extra trouble 
of sowing them in shallow boxes placed on their piazza floors 
where they can sprinkle them with a whisk broom frequently 
rather than put them in a seed bed away from the house where 
they may be forgotten. Seedlings started in boxes will need to be 
transplanted to the open ground within a few weeks. 

Every evening, when there has been no rain, the bed should 
be watered through a fine nozzle; a heavy downpour from a hose 
or the sprayless spout of a watering can would wash away the 
soil from the seedlings' roots. As the plants increase in size the 
nightly watering may be gradually discontinued, except during 
drought, if the surface of the ground be kept well stirred with a 
hoe between waterings. 

Many weeds that the hoe dare not touch will necessarily be 
pulled by hand, and seedlings, too, if you have made the usual 
mistake of sowing too many seeds to the foot. Don't crowd the 
bed. It is no work to give each seedling all the room it needs 


Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 205 

at the outset, and ic is some work to transplant it. After frost, 
cover the bed with coarse stable litter, well shaken out, or autumn 
leaves kept from blowing off by criss-crossed pea brush laid 
over them. The thickness of the blanket will depend upon the 
severity of the climate. If manure that has lost its heat be used 
for protection — and none other should be spread — see that it 
does not cover the crowns of foxgloves, hollyhocks, sweet Williams 
or other plants that hold their leaves all winter, for it will cause 
them to decay. Crown rot is the frequent cause of failure with 
these plants of the easiest culture. Established plants that have 
successfully weathered their second summer need no covering 
south of Washington. 

If one has a coldframe to start seedlings in at midsummer, 
so much the better; for the protection of the sashes in winter 
insures a longer period of growth and a larger crop of flowers 
the next season in consequence. Young plants, started in late 
summer and compelled to endure a long winter in the open, are 
not likely to bloom well the first season, which is why people who 
live in Canada and the northern tier of states, and who have 
neither coldframes nor hotbeds, do well to plant their biennials 
and perennials in the open ground as soon as the earth dries out 
and becomes warm in the spring, when, however, there is apt 
to be so great a rush of other work that the seedlings' simple 
but insistent wants of weeding and watering cannot always be 
met. If they are, the gardener is rewarded by a crop of well- 
established, vigorous plants when the long, cold northern winter 
must be endured. Some growers prefer to start their perennials 
in a hotbed with the tomato plants and tender annuals in February 
or March, but little is gained by the two months of extra labour, 
as very few will bloom the first summer in any case. 

206 The American Flower Garden 

Thinning out and transplanting seedlings should be done in 
the late afternoon Or on a cloudy day. Always water them before 
and after moving. Baby plants become the objects of one's keen- 
est concern. They are the pets of a place. Their sturdy growth 
is a matter to boast about. When a new garden is to be filled 
most economically, when bare spots in the border need beautify- 
ing, when you want to give a friend some of your favourite plants, 
when there is a chance to secure from a neighbour some coveted 
new perennial in exchange for a few seedlings, how joyfully you 
seize a trowel and lift the big, healthy youngsters into a basket 
with something akin to parental pride! Miss Mitford was not the 
only one to delight in having "a flower in a friend's garden." 
A. young amateur grew over two hundred lusty plants of exquis- 
ite tall white columbine from seed stalks that had been cut to be 
thrown away in a neighbour's border. The same quantity of less 
sturdy and fresh plants, if bought from a commercial dealer who 
had not only to grow, but to catalogue, advertise and pack them, 
would be cheap at fifteen dollars. For the best effects in peren- 
nial planting one needs a quantity of each kind of choice plant, 
rather than a sample of many inferior kinds. 

Well-stocked gardens need thinning out every year if the 
plants are not to choke one another to death. Degeneracy and 
death ensue in a miser's garden. Perennials conduce to friend- 
liness. There is often a chance to almost stock a new border 
from the overflow from an old one in the neighbourhood; and, 
usually, the owner is only too glad to find an appreciative recipient. 
No matter how rampant one's sweet Williams or coreopsis become, 
who can bear to consign their multitudinous offspring to the 
compost heap? By dividing with a sharp spade the roots of 
peonies, irises, violets, lilies-of-the-valley and other plants that 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 207 

are resting in August, and the roots of phlox, rudbeckia, golden 
glow, the pearl, day primroses, pentstemons, boltonia, day-lilies, 
bee balm, chrysanthemums, Japanese anemones, and other plants 
that grow in clumps as soon as they show above ground in the 
spring, there is little danger of checking their bloom; and by 
lifting some of the self-sown seedlings of foxgloves, Canterbury 
bells — two indispensable biennials that give a charm to any 
garden — of gaillardia, hollyhocks, anemones, Oriental poppies, 
coreopsis, and columbines, one may benefit immeasurably a well- 
established garden while giving away plants enough to stock 
another. Fill in all cavities from which roots have been lifted 
with fresh soil made extra rich with well-rotted black manure. 
The pit back of the cow barn is the best one to rob for the flower 
garden. Plants given away are never missed, for what are left 
show their relief from crowding by greatly increased vigour. Some 
gardeners advocate lifting all perennials every four years, carting 
away the exhausted soil in which they grew, and replacing it 
with fresh earth heavily enriched in which to reset them. So 
great a labour is quite unnecessary if the bed has been deeply 
and thoroughly prepared in the first place, and if one will be 
generous annually, or even every two years. 

Perennials, as a rule, are such gross feeders that they soon 
extract the available food within their area. Phloxes and 
peonies, especially, must be either lifted into replenished earth every 
four or five years or be liberally fed annually. The practice 
of spading or forking in the manure that has covered a garden all 
winter as soon as growth starts in early spring is responsible 
for a deplorable loss of or injury to cherished plants. Never be 
guilty of it. Some forgotten treasures not yet started are sure 
to be buried; others, with brittle new shoots like ferns, bleeding- 

ao8 The American Flower Garden 

heart and peonies, to be broken, and countless insignificant 
seedlings to be sacrificed. Lightly lift off the coarser cover from 
the plants on a dull, flat potato fork, leaving on only the fine, 
short part of the manure. Most of the substance washes away 
into the soil. Plants will quickly push their way through what 
is not dissolved by rain and overspread it until it is quite con- 
cealed. The light mulch is found to be beneficial when hot, 
dry weather comes. In June, after all the plants are well above 
ground, some voracious ones may require a trowelful of coarse, 
slowly soluble bone meal mixed through the soil about them, 
or a few draughts of weak liquid manure just before blooming 
time. When perennials are covered in winter with litter or leaves 
which supply no food, it is well to lightly fork in some very old 
short manure about the roots, where they will not come immedi- 
ately in contact with it, after all the plants are up in late spring. 

During prolonged drought, when it would be impracticable 
to soak the whole garden at one time, divide it into sections and 
thoroughly water one of them each evening at sundown. It is 
better to give every plant a deep, satisfying drink once a week 
than to sprinkle them all every night. Sprinkling encourages 
roots to form near the surface where they are likely to bake. A 
plant should be induced to root deeply and so become drought 
resistant. Plants like Japanese irises, larkspurs, chrysanthemums, 
Canterbury bells, meadow rue, mallows, ferns, and superbum 
lilies probably never get all the water they really need for their 
best development in our sun-baked, torrid gardens. Feeding 
and watering are the essentials of success with perennials. 

Where shall they be planted ? Everywhere! Imitate nature 
and "paint the meadows with delight" if you have no garden. 
Parkinson societies are greatly needed in our new land to beautify 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 209 

raw roadsides and waste places. The old-fashioned garden, 
now happily in vogue again, is composed almost exclusively of 
hardy perennials. Its box-edged parterres overflow with them. 
Even the modern formal garden fittingly employs such plants as 
hollyhocks, foxgloves, larkspurs, Canterbury bells and lilies, 
whose tall, straight spires of bloom repeat the lines of pillared 
porch and pergola. It needs a more riotous profusion of growth 
and bloom in it to soften the architectural severity that is usually 
too apparent. But, generally speaking, perennials are informal 
in character, and many kinds are better adapted to naturalistic 
than to formal treatment. 

Plants of especially coarse or vigorous habit like the hardy 
sunflowers, golden glow, boltonia, day primroses, orange day 
lilies and hollyhocks, are often set out in bold masses among 
the shrubbery where, for a time, they are strikingly effective. 
Their flowers, which appear after the shrubs have finished bloom- 
ing, keep the shrubbery gay until frost. But shrubs and peren- 
nials, both voracious, soon deplete the soil, and unless an extra 
amount of food be supplied, both deteriorate. Nevertheless it 
would be a thousand pities never to use them together. Shrubs 
are so dark and rich a foil for flowers blooming earlier or later 
than they, that they make a most effective background, especially 
when used to take off the curse from an enclosing fence on a 
suburban plot or to partially border a lawn. Do not place the 
shrubs in a straight line at the back of the border only, but in 
dense and light groups, some of the lower kinds running out to 
the front of the irregular edge of the border and flush with it, 
some receding almost to the fence, and so giving variety of setting 
and exposure to the perennial flowers in the graceful, sinuous 
outlines of the tall and low shrubbery. The green wall of a 

210 The American Flower Garden 

sheared privet or evergreen hedge also admirably displays gay 
flowers sharply contrasted against it; formal gardens are frequently 
enclosed by such a border. But from the cultural view-point the 
planting of perennials next shrubs and hedges is not desirable 
unless the roots of the stronger can be prevented from trespassing 
upon the weaker's preserves. English gardeners, to whom the 
mixed border is indispensable, sink planks in the earth as a parti- 
tion ; yet, in a land where lumber is costly, a narrow trench filled 
in with coal ashes is quite as discouraging a barrier to pilfering 
roots. If no obstruction be put in the way of them, only the most 
vigorous perennials should be left to struggle fiercely for survival 
with the shrubs. Properly partitioned, almost any perennials 
you please may be grown in a mixed border, but pray not a large 
assortment dotted about in a meaningless way! The border is 
usually viewed from a distance and bold masses of one kind of 
flower in a given area are most effective. Indeed, no plant appears 
at its best unless given adequate space to display its charms either 
between or in front of the shrubs. Scattered about with no 
relation to the height, foliage and colour of their surroundings, 
perennials can be more distracting than delightful in mixed 

Whoever thinks it a simple matter to plan an artistic, hardy 
border that will contain masses of harmonious bloom from early 
spring until late frost with no clash of colour in it at any time, no 
bare spaces, no untidy tangled effects, no confusion of dissimilar 
foliage, no spotty groups not blended with their surroundings, 
can never have tried to make one. Because it is one of the most 
difficult garden feats attempted, albeit the first one the novice 
is apt to try his 'prentice hand upon, we rarely see thoroughly sat- 
isfying perennial planting. The border is too often regarded as 

m. cicj.uua.ia iui a. x nought-out Garden 211 

a catch-all for hardy plants. Favourites are set out side by side 
with little reference to their effect in the composition as a whole. 
Miscellaneous mixtures suggesting a crazy-quilt are the models 
that everywhere greet the eye. A woman with such dazzling 
daubs of colour in her parlour would go distracted. Proportion, 
form and colour need to be as carefully considered as in painting 
a picture on canvas when one plants for permanence. 

The intricacies of planting perennials so as to get the most 
lovely effects from them require exhaustive study for each place; 
but there are certain self-evident propositions which perhaps 
may be helpful to the inexperienced amateur: 

When perennials only are used to border a path or to frame 
a little lawn, set the tallest ones at the back in an undulating 
line, and let the height of the plants gradually diminish toward 
the front until the fringed pinks, creeping phlox, candytuft, arabis, 
saxifrage, Russian violets and other low growers form the irregular 
flowing edge. Occasionally let a phalanx of irises or other taller 
plants run out to the edge of the border to relieve its flatness. 

Use billowy masses of one kind of plant or colour to give 
dignity to the planting, but be careful not to have them so large 
as to be wearisome. However, the tendency is just the reverse, 
and the effect of many small groups is scarcely as reposeful as 
a garden should be. When a long border along a path or drive 
is most often seen from end to end, the foreshortening of the 
masses requires that they be given an extra breadth. In any 
case, longish drifts of planting are preferable to roundish spots. 
Happily, perennials soon spread into irregular, flowing groups 
preferable to any that the hand of man can form. Groups with 
harmonious flowers may have foliage that necessitates their separa- 
tion. For example, Japanese eulalia and similar tall grasses 

212 The American Flower Garden 

look well with hardy bamboos and poker plants, but out of place 
next low-growing, broad-leaved day lilies. 

Try to have no more than two or, at the most, three, har- 
monious colours flowering in the perennial border at one time. 
Many shades of the same colour may be introduced for variety. 
Harmony is always more desirable than sharp contrasts. It 
saves trouble and clashing to group together in the same section 
of the bed plants whose flowers are of approximately the same 
colour, and so chosen as to follow each other in an overlapping 
succession throughout the season. For instance, a yellow and 
white section might begin its display with snowdrops, crocuses, 
tulips, daffodils and narcissus, arabis, yellow alyssum and white 
creeping phlox in the low foreground; continue with the gray- 
white Florentine and yellow irises, columbines, candytuft, peonies, 
yellow brier and white rugosa roses, foxgloves, garden heliotrope, 
hollyhocks, coreopsis, day primroses, the pearl, white, lemon 
and orange day-lilies, Shasta daisies, phlox, meadow rue, and so 
on through the rudbeckias, sunflowers, boltonia and golden glow 
of late summer to the chrysanthemums and Japanese anemones 
of autumn. The yellow might be intensified to orange and flame 
with Oriental poppies, lychnis, butterfly weed and poker plant if 
one desires to pass by gradual transition to a scarlet, red and 
crimson section. Or, all the stronger tones may be omitted, and 
paler yellows only retained with the cold whites that lead by easy 
transition to blue, lilac and purple flowers if there are no pink 
or red ones blooming in any part of the border at the same time. 

From the early pink creeping phlox and tulips of April to the 
tree and herbaceous peonies of May, the damask roses, pink poppies 
and pyrethrums of June, the mallows, hollyhocks, and phloxes 
of July, and so on to the late pink chrysanthemums, is a lovely 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 213 

progression, too, when one may run up the scale through crimsons 
to the dark, velvety carnation, sweet Williams and herbaceous 
peonies of richer hue than Jacqueminot roses, or down to the 
pinkish gray-white of garden heliotrope (Valerian) and the warm 
white of the fleecy meadow sweet, fraxinella and immortelle. 

Or, the border may have a complete change of color every 
month or six weeks, as when a pink phase succeeds a blue one; 
but this is difficult to manage because of the perversity of plants. 
The larkspurs unexpectedly prolong their bloom because of 
cool weather and frequent rains, perhaps, whereas they should 
have given place in early July to rosy hollyhocks that marshal in 
the pink group which, in turn, may linger long enough to swear 
at its successor. However; cutting off the larkspur spires merely 
insures a second crop of flowers in the fall; nipping the heads off 
phloxes that may rush inopportunely into bloom insures flowers 
from the lateral shoots when they are wanted. Companion crops 
have undeniable fascinations. Each gardener has some pet com- 
bination. One will plant blue spirea to conceal the rusty 
peonies that dry off in the fall; another will hide the long shanks 
of his crown imperials behind Shasta daisies. Canterbury bells 
swing where columbines lately were in another garden. Chrysan- 
themums conceal the downfall of pentstemons and monkshood. 

Another way to secure harmony in a garden is to devote 
certain spaces in it to certain seasons — one part of the home 
grounds for spring bulbs and plants, one for early summer effects, 
one that shall be bright during the drought and dog-days of mid- 
summer, and another section for autumn. Indeed, one authority 
declares it to be the only way to secure the finest effects, arguing 
that if a given area be expected to produce flowers from early 
spring to late frost there are sure to be flowerless spaces in it 

214 The American Flower Garden 

much of the time, and that such plants as are in bloom will look 
like isolated patches of colour among the foliage. The plan has 
advantages for people who live in the country for only a few 
months, when a garden might be planned to put forth concen- 
trated loveliness then. It certainly is unreasonable to expect a 
plant to bloom longer than three months; some reward our pains 
for not more than as many weeks; but masses of clean, healthy 
foliage are not objectionable, surely, and the flowers need not 
look spotty if secondary tints are grouped around stronger colours 
and the whole toned down with synchronous plants. For 
example, a long mass of flowers that run the gamut from deep 
purples to pale blues had around its flowing outlines the common 
catmint, whose cool, grayish foliage made an easy transition to 
the greens in the herbaceous border. Green often divides groups, 
it is true, but isolation is precisely what is needed in many cases. 
Even screamingly opposed colours are rendered inoffensive by 
broad green stretches between them, although it is sometimes 
better art to tone them down with the weaker secondary tints 
of the same colour until they gradually merge into the neutral 
ground of green or white. 

White is the great peacemaker among warring flowers. Blue 
lengthens distance and adds depth to shadows, just as yellow, 
on the contrary, foreshortens the garden picture. Bright red 
is always an exclamation point; it punctuates space and defines 
its own position so insistently that the usual devices of grouping 
secondary tints about it to bring it down to the colour scale of its 
neighbours is not often successful. Usually it needs isolation to 
reveal its splendour. The brilliant scarlet of Oriental poppies, 
for instance, is sure to clash with the contemporary June roses 
and pink peonies, or to totally eclipse other flowers. War rages 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 215 

where all should be peace. But planted in the foreground of a 
copse, a mass of dwarf evergreens or a border of shrubbery not in 
bloom, how glorious the great poppies are! Another special- 
purpose plant is the cardinal flower, now tamed by the commercial 
dealer who sells its easily grown seed. Pitifully out of place 
among the host of garden flowers, its vivid beauty is best displayed 
in nature's garden, where it rises beside a stream that reflects 
it like a mirror. Here it gives one a keener prick of pleasure 
than in any other setting. Association counts for much. Fox- 
gloves are charming garden flowers, yet the best effect produced with 
them that I ever saw was where a great group of their white spires 
ascended in the foreground of a vista through deep woods. Some 
stumps had been grubbed out, and the owner of the place had 
sprinkled foxglove seeds from the garden, which he promptly 
forgot. Two' years later he happened upon them unexpectedly 
and was overjoyed at the sight. What he called "a happy acci- 
dent" was, of course, no accident at all, for unconsciously, perhaps, 
the picture had flashed on his inner eye before he dropped a seed 
into the earth. Lupines are especially effective when massed 
apart in large groups in a setting of rich, dark green foliage. 
Indeed, many lovely perennials that would not bear neglect 
through naturalising, may be cultivated in a naturalistic way 
where their effect is apt to be far more artistic than in a garden. 
Everywhere perennials are the artist's flowers and are used 
by him as colours are on a palette to make a picture. We have 
been wont to mistake the daubs on the palette — a lot of unassorted 
colours set out in a meaningless way — for the picture itself. 
Flowers may be left to jar the nerves of the sensitive or so arranged 
as to produce constantly changing visions of beauty. "It seems 
to me," says Miss Jekyll, "that the duty we owe to our gardens 

216 The American Flower Garden 

and to our own bettering in our gardens is so to use the plants that 
they shall form beautiful pictures; and that, while delighting our 
eyes, they should be always training those eyes to a more exalted 
criticism; to a state of mind and artistic conscience that will not 
tolerate bad or careless combination or any sort of misuse of 
plants, but in which it becomes a point of honour to be always 
striving for the best. It is just in the way it is done that lies the 
whole difference between commonplace gardening and gardening 
that may rightly claim to rank as a fine art." 

Perennials for the Herbaceous Border 

Plants marked (*) thus are suitable for situations surrounding the water garden. 
Note. — The date of flowering given is that for the neighbourhood of New York, and 
will of course vary, earlier to the South, later to the North, in most cases. 

Aconite, Autumn {Aconitum autumnale). Blue, lilac, whitish. Sep- 
tember to November; 3 to 5 feet. Valuable as a successor to the 
aconite or monkshood, which flowers earlier. Flowers not so open. 
Of easiest cultivation, thriving under same conditions as monkshood. 

Adonis {Adonis Amurensis, A. Davurica). Yellow. March; 1 foot. 
Earliest flowering, long-lived spring-blooming perennial, easily grown 
in full sunshine. Plant early (March 15th), or early September, 
or get pot-grown plants. 

Alum Root. See Coral Bells. 

Anemone, Japanese {Anemone Japonica). Rose, white. September 
to October; 2 to 4 feet. More and larger flowers in late September 
than any other perennial. Blooms until hard freeze. Flowers 
2 to 3 inches across. Best in partial shade, in cool, loose, moist and 
rich soil. Cover in winter. Generally dies if transplanted in fall. 
Single, double and semi-double named varieties. 

Baby's Breath {Gypsophila paniculata). White. June, July; 2 to 3 
feet. Very numerous minute flowers borne on a gracefully branched 
feathery stalk. Excellent for cutting and for giving lightness to other 
cut flowers, and for giving mist-like effects in borders. Fairly dry, 
open places, also good for rockeries. Cut stalks may be dried and 
used all winter. 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 217 

Balloon Flower (Platycodon grand iflorum). Blue, purple, white. 
July to October; I to 3 feet. Largest bell-flower that can be easily 
grown. Flowers 3 inches across. Stake early, and don't cut stems 
in fall. Give good drainage. Divide early in spring when growth 

*Balm, Bee. Oswego Tea, Indian Plumes {Monarda didyma). Scarlet 
August; 2§ feet. More red flowers than any other herb. As easy 
to multiply as mint. Grand for massing in woods, or on sunny 
streams' sides. Attracts humming-birds. Fragrant foliage. 

*Balm, Moldavian {Dracocephalum Moldavicum). Blue. August, 
September; 2 feet. Labiate flowers in whorls at intervals in long 
racemes. Do not plant in dry soils fully exposed to sunshine; 
does best in moderately rich, sandy loam, moist and shaded. Flowers 
small and soon fade. Increase by seeds or division. 

*Beard Tongue {Pentstemon barbatus). Light pink to carmine. 
June to August; 3 feet. Flowers 1 inch long, borne in a loose, 
slender, foxglove-like inflorescence. Very beautiful in mass effect, 
but trivial otherwise. One of the best native perennials, growing in 

any garden soil. , Blue (P. diffusus). June, July; 2 feet. Similar, 

but with bluish purple flowers. Several otherspecies also in cultiva- 
tion. (P- deustus). Has pale yellow flowers. (P. Cobtea.) 

Purple to white. Parent of numerous garden forms in many colours. 

Begonia, Hardy {Begonia Evansiana). Rose pink. June to August; 2 
feet. Showy red stems and under side of leaf, which is green 
above. Flowers very freely, and multiplies by bulblets or tubers. 
Hardy on Long Island, in light, well-drained soil with humus, and 
easily grown anywhere with light winter protection. Worth more 
general cultivation. 

Bellflower, Carpathian {Campanula Carpatica). Blue. June, 
July, and scattering later on; 1 to \\ feet. Easiest to grow, and 
most permanent low-growing member of the bellflower family. 
Only bellflower that gives bloom all the autumn. Sow in spring 

in good, rich soil and give protection in winter. , 

Hairy {C. Trachelium). Purple or blue flowers less than one 
inch long. Lingers about deserted homesteads. Rough of leaf 

and unrefined in colour. Blue form is the best. -, Peach- 

LEAVED {C. persiccefolid). Blue or white. Flowers 2 inches wide, 
i| inches long, and very characteristic leaves. Mid-June; 2 to 3 

2i 8 The American Flower Garden 

feet. The most beautiful of the old perennial bellflowers, and the 
next to the biennial Canterbury bells (see Old- Fashioned Flowers, 

p. 57) in size of flower. , Wide-leaved (C. latifolia). Purple 

or dark-blue loose raceme about 8 inches long, containing 8 to 15 
very large (2$ inches long) flowers. Largest and coarsest leaves. 
See also Balloon Flower. 

Blanket Flower (Gaillardia aristata). Red, yellow. July to October; 
3 to 5 feet. The very gay, daisy-like flowers last throughout summer 
if no seed forms. The only double-flowered variety is splendidissima 
plena. Best yellow is Kelway's King, even the disc being yellow. 
More flowers for cutting than any other hardy perennial. Drought 
and frost resister. Cut flowers as fast as they fade. Cover plants 
with litter after ground is frozen. Often grown as an annual. 

*Bleeding Heart (Dicentra spectabilis). Pink; 1^ feet. Early May. 
Heart-shaped flowers on long, gracefully arching sprays; long-lived. 
Often catalogued as Dielytra or Diclytra. Rich, moist soil preferred. 
Fragile looking, but quite hardy. 

Boltonia. See False Chamomile, Native Plants, p. 89. 

Bugle (Ajuga reptans). Creeper, with blue flowers in May. One of 
the best carpeting plants. Mint family. Dark-leaved forms best. 

, Geneva (A. Genevensis). May. Cheapest and showiest 

spring-blooming, blue-flowered plant for carpeting. Fine for dry 
places, and for shady situations, where grass will not grow. 

Campanula. See Bellflower. 

Candytuft. See Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 57. 

Cardinal Flower. See Native Plants, p. 90. 

Catchfly, German {Lychnis Viscaria). Red, white. May, June; 6 to 
20 inches. One of the best hardy perennials, growing in all soils. 
Profuse bloomer in sunny places. The small flowers are massed 
into a sort of head. Name comes from the sticky patches below 
the flower clusters, which often catch ants and crawling insects. 
Many varieties in various shades. See also London Pride, p. 64. 

Chamomile (Anthemis tlnctoria). Yellow. June to frost; 2 feet. 
Finely cut, dark-green foliage and immense quantities of golden- 
yellow, daisy-like flowers, 1 inch across. Good for cutting, but 
has strong, pungent odour of wormwood. Grows well in poorest soil. 
— — , Double Scentless {Matricaria indora, var. plenissima). 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 219 

White. June to September; ij feet. White buttons in loosely 
branched panicles. Very pretty growing or cut. Best free-flower- 
ing white flower of summer. , False (Boltonia latisquama). 

See Native Plants, p. 89. 

Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger). White, fading pinkish. Decem- 
ber, January; I foot. The only permanent border plant with ever- 
green foliage that flowers in winter — blooming even under the 
snow. Plant near the house where it can be seen. Get old, estab- 
lished stock in September. Often takes some time to become 
settled, not flowering well till the second or third year. Moist 
well-drained, rather open soil, in partial shade. Cut flowers make 
excellent table decorations if taken young; they become speckled 
with age. Individual flowers 2 inches across. Foliage very dark. 
Var. altifolius is the earliest flowering. 

Chrysanthemum, Hardy (C. Indicum and morifolium). Practically 
all colours except blue and scarlet. September to November; 2 to 3 
feet. Unquestionably the most important late-blooming plants of 
the garden, flowering profusely till frost. Always plant in spring; 
cuttings can be made from growing shoots all the year. (See Old- 
Fashioned Flowers, p. 57.) Great diversity of form, but ranging 
into several well-defined types: (a) Single, resembling a daisy, with 
rays surrounding a conspicuous disc. Excellent for cutting. Mary 
Anderson is a popular kind, (b) Double quilled, with rosette 
of involute petals. Example, Little Bob. (c) Double, with 
expanded rays. Example, Soeur Melaine. (d) Anemone-flowered. 
Like the single, but with tubular disc florets, much enlarged, form- 
ing a distinct cushion. Not offered by name in the American trade. 
(e) Reflexed. Double, with flat rays distinctly arched back toward 
the stalk. Example, Jules Lagravere. The large-flowered chrysan- 
themums, usually grbwn in greenhouses, are similarly classified, 
most popular types being: (a) Incurved. Long petals regularly 
curved toward the centre. Example, Colonel D. Appleton. (b) Jap- 
anese. Long petals, variously formed. Loosely and irregularly 
twisted more or less. The most popular decorative kinds. Exam- 
ples, Golden Wedding, Glory of the Pacific, Madam Carnot. 
(c) Reflexed. Very rarely grown. Example, Cullingfordi. (d) Large 
anemone. Well-developed tubular disc florets, surrounded by ex- 
panded ray florets. Example, Garza. 

220 The American Flower Garden 

Clematis, Aromatic (Clematis aromatica). Deep violet-blue. July 
to September. Solitary, fragrant flowers, i£ to 2 inches across. 

Grows 4 feet high, or 6 feet if supported. , Blue Bush (C. 

integrifolia). Blue, purple, or white. June to August; 2 feet. 
Solitary blue flowers \ inch long, covering bush 2 feet high. Var. 
Durandi taller, and has longer flowers with recurved sepals. 

, David's (C. heraclece folia, var. Davidiana). Pale blue. 

August, September; 4 feet, but needs support. Flowers in clustered 
heads 6 to 15, and also singly. Larger leaves than any other cul- 
tivated clematis. , White Bush (C. recta). White. June 

to August. Fragrant flowers 1 inch across in dense corymbs. 
Plant 2 to 3 feet long, not climbing. The common bush clematis 
of Southern Europe. There is also a double form. Give deep, 
loamy soil, fairly rich. They are susceptible to injury by drought, 
and need water in summer. A little lime in the soil is an advantage. 
On dry, hot soils use cow manure, but on heavy soils use leaf-mould. 
Spray overhead in early summer. 

*Columbine (Aquilegia vulgaris). Violet, blue, white, red. May; 
2 feet. Heavier, less graceful, but more permanent than the long- 
spurred kinds; less particular about shade and drainage; excellent 

for rocky ledges. , Wild (A. Canadensis). Red and yellow; 2 

feet. Attracts humming birds. , Rocky Mountain (A. carulea). 

Blue and white. i| feet. Two last best for naturalising. Light, 

sandy soil, moist, with good drainage. Keep seed-bed moist. , 

Yellow (A. chrysantha). 3 to 4 feet. May to August. 

*Column Flower (Lepachys columnaris). Yellow. June to Septem- 
ber; I to 3 feet. A composite, 2 to 3 inches across, the dark disc 
formed into an elongated thimble-like cone, 2 inches or more long, 
and borne on long, wiry stalks. Excellent for massing, and good 
for cut flowers. Sow early indoors and transplant outside for 
succession the first season. Sometimes treated as an annual. 
Similar to cone flower. 

Coral Bells, Alum Root (Heuchera sanguinea). Coral red. July, 
August; 1 to 2§ feet. Long lily-of-the-valley-like spikes of dainty, 
coral-red flowers appearing intermittently all summer. Wiry stems. 
Likes sandy, well-drained, but not necessarily dry soil. Propagate 
by dividing roots after flowering. 

Coreopsis. See Tickseed. 


Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 221 

Cupid's Dart (Catanancbe carulea). Blue. June to August; 2 to 3 
feet. Like a blue daisy, 2 inches across. Excellent in light soils, 
but easily grown anywhere. Named varieties : alba, white; btcolor, 
blue centre with white margin. Used as everlastings when cut. 
Increase by seed or division. 

*Evening Primrose (Oenothera biennis, var. grandiflora). Clear 
yellow. June to September; 5 feet. The flowers 4 to 5 inches 
across open suddenly at nightfall. Best yellow-flowered biennial 
for bold effects. Easily naturalised. Almost any soil. (E. 
fruticosa, the Day Primrose, is described under Sun Drops in 
Native Plants for the Wild Garden, p. 95. 

Flax (Linum Lewisii). Sky blue. July, August; 1 to 2 feet. Expanded 
flowers i£ inches across, lasting a short time, but borne in rapid 
succession. Will flower first year from seeds sown in the open. 
Increase by seeds or division. Full sun, in open place. L. perenne 
is much like this, but has smaller flowers. 

*Forget-Me-Not (Myosotis palustris). Bright blue. May, June; 
6 inches to 1^ feet. The best all-purpose hardy plant of its colour for 
feathery and foreground effects. Best in moist, half shady places, 

but will do in open sun if soil be not dry. , Early (M. dissitiflora). 

Deep sky-blue. April to July; 1 foot. A biennial, but self-sows, 
and is generally the more useful. 

*Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea). Purplish pink to white. Early June. 
Foxgloves and larkspurs and hollyhocks are the best flowers with 
spire-like clusters. Common old magenta form strongest for natural- 
ising. Most refined form is Var. gloxinioides. Likes partial shade, 
and coolness at roots. Biennial. 

French Honeysuckle (Hedysarum coronariurri). Red. August, Sep- 
tember; 2 to 4 feet. Pea-like flowers in crowded axillary clusters, 
fragrant. Light, open, well-drained soil in sunny place. Easily 
grown. Var. album has white flowers. 

Gaillardia. See Blanket Flower. 

Gas Plant (Dictamnus albus.) See Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 59. 

Globe Flower (Trollius Europeus). Yellow. May, June; 1 to i| feet. 
Globular flowers borne singly or in twos, like gigantic buttercups, 
2 inches across on foot-long stems. Moist, heavy loam. Var. Lod- 
digesii is deep yellow. (T . A siaticus) . Orange yellow; l| to 2 

222 The American Flower Garden 

feet. April to October. Good for cutting. Give partial exposure to 
sun. Increase by division in September, or seeds. Seedlings 
grow slowly. 

Goat's Beard, True (Aruncus sylvester). , False (Astilbe decandrd). 

White. July, August; 4 feet. These two so closely resemble each 
other that they are commonly confused. Either one is worth grow- 
ing for bold, massive, half-wild effects, especially for connecting the 
flower border with shrubbery. The plume-like clusters of flowers 
are 6 inches or more long. Foliage boldly three-lobed, and having 
quite a shrubby appearance. Either one may be planted. Very 
easily grown in any soil or situation. Propagate by division any 

Golden Glow (Rudbeckia laciniata, var. Golden Glow). Clear yellow. 
August; 6 to 8 feet. Multiplies faster than any other desirable 
hardy plant. To kill red plant lice, dissolve any common soap in 
water, and spray on the insects. Cut back after flowering, to induce 
second crop. Divide roots any time. 

Gout Weed, Bishop's Weed (Mgopodium Podograria, var. variegata). 
Yellow and green foliage. All season, i£ feet. One of the most 
persistent of old-time variegated plants. Keeps its colour under 
all conditions, and thrives on all kinds of soil, also under shade or 
in the open sun. 

Hibiscus, Sunset (H. Manihot). Pale yellow. July, August; 3 to 9 
feet. One of the largest yellow flowers, 4 to 9 inches across, some- 
times white, with large purple eye. Not hardy in the North, and 
roots must be lifted to warm, dry cellar. Raise from seeds; and 
started indoors early will bloom first year. See also Mallows. 

Hollyhock. See Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 60. 

Honesty, Perennial (Lunaria rediviva). Purple to grayish purple. 
May, June; \\ to 7 J feet. Flowers smaller and lighter coloured than 
in the annual species (L. annua), otherwise quite like it, but with 
elliptical pod. Grown for the persistent septum of the seed pod, 
which is silvery, and makes a pretty winter decoration. Easily 
grown in any soil. Increase by seeds or division. 

Horned Poppy (Glaucium luteum). Orange, yellow. July to Septem- 
ber; 6 inches. Flowers poppy-like, 2 to 3 inches across, and in 
profusion, but do not last long. Blooms till frost if seed pods are 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 223 

constantly removed. Foliage glaucous blue, and striking. Give 
open, sunny situation. Short-lived, and best treated as biennial, 
but may be increased by division. Hardy. 

Incarvillea (Incarvillea Delavayi). Rosy purple. June, July; I to 2 
feet. Very showy, bignonia-like flowers, 2 to 3 inches long and wide. 
Tube yellow. Finest hardy, herbaceous perennial in the family. 
Large, bold foliage, 1 foot long, pinnate. Protect in winter. 
Deep, light, sandy loam, in sheltered, warm place. Propagate by 
division or seed. 

*Iris, Flag (Fleur-de-Luce), Dwarf (Iris biflora). Violet-purple. 

April; 10 inches. Also white and yellow varieties. (/. Cham- 

ceiris). Yellow. Late April; 6 inches. Also white and violet 

varieties. (/. pumila). Lilac-blue. April; 6 inches. Best 

for permanent edgings. Told from the two preceding by the flower 
tube being two inches or more long. There is a brown and 
yellow form. Earliest large-flowered iris for general use. Flowers 
3 to 4 inches across. Increases quickly. The best blue variety is 

carulea. The best yellow, luteo-maculata. Crested Dwarf 

(/. cristatd). Pale blue. April, May; less than I foot. Earliest 
hardy iris for general use. Exquisite for edging. Flowers about 

2 inches across. Plant when growth starts. , Florentine 

(/. Florentina). The orris root of commerce. Flowers with 
the German Iris. Quite hardy. 2 to z\ feet. Flowers, 
white tinged lavender, veined purple at the base. Early Var. 

albicans, pure white. Most common and easily grown. , 

German (/. Germanica). The great, purple-bearded iris. Perhaps 
the most generally cultivated. I. Germanica alba, so-called, is a 
companion to the white Florentine, both flowering in May. The 
so-called "German" irises of gardens are not varieties of /. 
Germanica, but a mixture of many species, and, consequently, 
show great range of habit. Among the best of these are Madam 
Chereau, white feathered and bordered blue; Aurea, golden yellow; 
Eugene Sue, creamy white with purple spots and stripes; Liabaud, 
yellow and maroon; Sappho, clear blue and indigo; Celeste, light 

lavender-blue. , English. See p. 60. , Japan (/. lavgiata, 

or Keempferi). Many varieties from silvery white through lavender 
and magenta to purple, pure and in combination. July; 3 to 4 
feet. Grows perfectly in an ordinary garden, if well supplied with 

224 The American Flower Garden 

water during blooming season. Most decorative. Flowers 9 
inches across. Too short-lived for a perfect cut flower, and will not 
stand shipment. It is useless to recommend named varieties here, 
as hardly any two lists offer the same. The names are Japanese, 

and merely generally descriptive. , Siberian (/. Sibirica). May, 

June ; 2 to 3 feet. Makes large, compact clumps of linear leaves 
from the centre of which rise tall stems of lilac-blue, beardless 

Jacob's Ladder (Polemonium ceeruleum). Grayish blue. May to 
July; I to 3 feet. Expanded bell-shaped flowers, 1 inch across. 
Should be in every border because of its rare colour in midsummer. 
Easily adapted to any deep, rich loam, partly shaded, not very dry 
places. Raised from seed in the fall, also increased by division. 
Foliage has numerous finely cut leaflets, hence the popular name. 

Larkspur {Delphinium formosum). Blue in all shades, to white. 
June; 4 to 6 feet. The best of all the tall-growing blue perennials. 
Should be in every border. (See Old-Fashioned Flowers, 
p. 60). Deeply prepared, cool, rich soil. 

Leadwort (Ceratostigma plumbaginoides). Cobalt blue. September, 
October. Showiest low-growing, hardy, blue-flowered perennial 
for mass effects in autumn. Blooms naturally then. Somewhat 
resembles phlox. Stems red. Any garden soil. Needs winter 
protection in the North. One of our most valuable plants. Prop- 
agated by cuttings. Frequently catalogued as Plumbago Larpentce. 

*Mallow, Musk (Malva moschata). Rose, white. July to September; 
i£ feet. Flowers i£ inches across, well expanded, and borne 
singly. Very showy, and one of the most easily grown of all plants 
in any situation or soil. Good for border or specimen. In places 

has escaped from gardens and naturalised. , Swamp Rose. See 

Native Plants, p. 93. Hybrids. A new race arising 

from the native mallows of the North combined with some of 
the tropical species. These promise to be valuable for more or 
less wild effects. Not suitable for formal beds or borders. Slender, 
arching stems several feet long. Flowers in various colours, chiefly 
shades of pink and madder; 6 inches across; produced all summer. 

Man-of-the-Earth, Wild Potato (Ipomcea pandurata). White. May 
to September; 2 to 12 feet. Flowers like a morning-glory, with deep 
purple throat. One of the very hardiest tuberous vines. Useful 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 225 

for covering unsightly objects, tree stumps, etc. Root weighs 
10 to 12 lbs. Sometimes known as hardy perennial moonflower. 
Any soil. 

*Meadow Rue. See Native Plants, p. 93. 

Meadow Sweet. See Native Plants, p. 93. 

*Monkey Flower (Mimulus luteus). Yellow. All summer; 1 to 3 feet. 
Flowers two-lipped, but expanded, with open throat, mottled brown. 
Usually treated as an annual because it is not hardy North. Self- 
sows, and grows anywhere; but especially with plenty of water. 

, Red (M. cardinalis). Red and yellow; i to 2 feet. Is 

hardy in Massachusetts with slight protection. Useful for moist 

soils and shaded places, or northern exposure. (M. ringens). 

Blue. A native plant. 

Monkshood (Aconitum Napellus). Deep blue to white. July to 
August; 3 feet. One of the most beautiful of all blue flowers, having 
the general habit of the larkspur, but not commonly planted because 
of its poisonous character. Dangerous to children and pets. Grows 
in either sun or shade, and any sort of soil. The flower is curiously 
hooded, hence the name. 

Mouse-eared Chickweed (Cerastium tomentosum). White. All sum- 
mer; 6 inches. Invaluable for edging and foreground, and as foil 
to other colours in the mixed border. Individual flowers very 
small. Foliage woolly and quite decorative. Hardy. 

Nettle, Variegated (Lamium maculatum, var. variegatum). Purple- 
red to white. May to July; 6 to 8 inches. A valuable, low carpeting 
plant, with pretty ornamental foliage, green blotched with white 
on the midrib. Grows everywhere. Flowers I inch long in clusters 
and tiers. Increases by division. This is the dead nettle of the 
Old World. Several varieties, varying in colour of flower. The 
type has plain green foliage. Runs wild in places. 

Pansy {Viola tricolor). Blue, yellow, white, reddish brown, and inter- 
mediate shades. All summer; 6 inches. Probably the most popular 
of all dwarf hardy herbaceous plants, but usually treated as a tender 
annual for bedding. Does best in cool, deep loam, with partial 

shade. , Tufted or Bedding {V. cornuta and varieties). 

Blue, yellow, white, etc., in variety. June, July. Flowers smaller 
than pansies, but plant is better habited and more hardy blooming 

226 The American Flower Garden 

over a longer season. After July, cut back, manure heavily, water 
often, and they will make a fine show in September. All pansies 
like a cool, moist atmosphere. For early bloom sow seeds in 
August in frames or outdoors, giving light protection over winter. 
Spring sowings give late bloom. Usually treated as annuals. 

Pea, Perennial (Lathyrus latifolius). Rosy magenta. August; 4 to 8 
feet. A sprawling, rampant growing vine, with many flowers in a 
cluster. Thrives anywhere, even in poorest soils, and improves 
from year to year. Root a tuber, and dislikes removal. White, 
dark purple, and striped varieties offered. (L. grandiflorus). Sim- 
ilar, but with larger flowers, two together; less vigorous; 4 to 6 feet. 

Pearl Achillea. See Sneezewort. 

*Pentstemon. See Beard Tongue. 

Peony (Paonia officinalis and albi flora). White, rose to deep crimson. 
May, June; %\ feet. Probably the most useful hardy, herbaceous 
plant. Immense flowers like glorified roses, single and double, and 
handsome foliage. Old-time favourite. (See p. 62 for best-named 
varieties.) The real old kinds have been lost to cultivation under 
name, as modern introductions show continuous and great im- 

Periwinkle {Vinca minor). Deep blue, pink, white. May, June. 
Creeping. Best carpeting plant for shady places. Grows where 
nothing else will. Leaves oval, 1 inch long, very deep, lustrous 
green. Flowers hidden under the leaves, 1 inch or more across. 
Often found escaped near old gardens. 

Phlox, Perennial {Phlox paniculata). All colours but blue and real 
yellow. August, September. Largest flower clusters of any hardy 
perennial. Wide range of colours. Attracts more butterflies than 
any other garden flowers. White phlox, fragrant in evening. To 
prevent mildew divide every third year. Spray under sides of 
leaves with ammoniacal copper carbonate. Miss Lingard, white; 
Coquelicot, flame; Belvedere, salmon-pink; Richard Wallace, 
white with violet centre; Mahdi, deep violet-blue; La Vague, 
silvery rose, large; Crepuscule, gray-blue, flat head, are very 
distinct varieties at this writing, but with new introductions the 

standards are likely to change every year. , Wild Blue (P. 

divaricata). Lilac-blue; best for naturalising in moist, rocky soil. 
, Creeping. See Moss Pink. 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 227 

Pink, Miss Simkins (Dianthus hyb. Miss Simkins). White. May, 
June; 4 to 6 inches. This is by far the best and most popular of all 
the hardy pinks. Large, double flowers, and grows in any soil. 
Good for cutting; fragrant. Excellent for edging, the glaucous 
foliage persisting all the season. There are numerous other pinks 
referred to different species. (See Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 63). 

, Scotch, Garden, Grassy (D. plumarius). Purple, magenta, 

white, pink, rose. May, June; I foot. Most fragrant of all hardy 
pinks, and has most double varieties. Clove odour. Needs perfect 
drainage. Best grown as edging for raised beds or borders. 

, Fringed (D. superbus). Lilac. July; 1 foot. Natural 

complement of garden pink, blooming until autumn if not allowed 
to seed. Mix plenty of sand and grit in soil for drainage. 

Platycodon. See Balloon Flower. 

Plumbago. See Lead wort. 

*Plume Poppy (Bocconia cordata). Pinkish white. July. Flowers 
in fluffy masses. Leaves shaped like a fig's, but glaucous. Spreads 
rapidly by suckers, and makes glorious masses. Sometimes becomes 
a weed in rich, moist soil. 

Poppy, Iceland {Papaver nudicaule). Yellow to orange red and white. 
April to June, and August, September; 15 inches. Better than 
the Alpine poppy for borders, growing well in moderately rich and 
light loam. Give full sun. One of the prettiest, low-growing 
perennials with the characteristic crinkled petals of the poppies. 
Sow seeds in fall where plants are to remain. Often treated as an 

annual. , Oriental (P- orientale). Scarlet, orange-red to deep 

pink and white. June, July; 3 feet. The most gorgeous red- 
flowered hardy perennial, and should be planted sparingly against 
green surroundings. Flowers 6 to more inches across, with black 
centre. The thistle-like foliage disappears in late summer. Alto- 
gether one of the most effective and boldest of plants. Transplant 
in August. Small pieces of root an inch long can be handled like 
seeds, and will produce new plants. Usually slow to establish, and 
should not be disturbed. Several named varieties, but the type 
is the most gorgeous. 

Prickly Pear (Opuntia vulgaris). Yellow. June to September; 
10 inches. The only cactus that can be grown in the border. 
Curiously jointed, flat, leaf-like stems, covered with spines in groups. 

228 The American Flower Garden 

Has a sprawling, crab-like effect. Flowers at intervals during the 
season. Good for shallow soils, cool, and underdrained. 

Rocket (Hes peris matronalis). White to purple and magenta. June 
to August; 2 to 3 feet or more in rich soils. Flowers borne in dense 
spikes, like stock. One of the old favourites, and very effective in 
the border. Easily grown in any soil. Forms large clumps. 

St. John's Wort (Hypericum Moserianum). Yellow. July, August; 
2 feet. Very showy, largest of all the St. John's worts. Great 
mass of long, thread-like stamens. Flowers 2 inches in diameter. 
Any garden soil, with preference for sandy. Propagate by seeds, 
suckers, cuttings. 

Sun Drops. See Native Plants, p. 95. 

Sage, Silver (Salvia argented). White. May, June ; 2 to 4 feet. The 
real value of this plant lies in its pretty white woolly foliage. The 
tallest hardy biennial or perennial of that character. The inflor- 
escence is 2 feet long, and usually three-branched. 

Sea Holly (Eryngium amethystinum). Blue. July to September; 
2 to 5 feet. Thistle-like plant with large flower heads in cones, with 
finely cut bracts. Whole plant takes on a metallic blue sheen, 
especially in sandy soils, as the season advances. 

*Sedum, Showy (Sedum spectabile). Rose to crimson. August to 
October; 2 feet. Best hardy succulent for the border. Bold, 
fleshy foliage and flower heads, 3 or 4 inches across. Attracts 
butterflies. Any soil, but likes water. Propagate by division. 

Shasta Daisy (Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum hybrid). tVery closely 
resembling the common ox-eye daisy, its parent, but larger and 
more floriferous. Flowers all season, but does not succeed every- 
where in the East. 

Sidalcea (Sidalcea malvaflora). Purple. August, September; 1 to 6 
feet. Flowers up to 2 inches across when expanded, and pink with 
satiny texture in Var. Listeri, "Pink Beauty." One of the most 
easily grown plants from seed. Quite hardy. Propagate by 
seeds or division. 

Snapdragon (Antirrhinum majus). Red and purple to white and 
yellow. July, August; 1 to 3 feet. Flowers 1 inch long, borne in 
spikes blooming from the bottom over several weeks; curiously 
formed like a rabbit's mouth, opening when pinched. Excellent 

Perennials for a Thought-out Garden 229 

for cutting. One of the very best almost hardy plants. Give 
light protection in winter. Sow outdoors in May, or for spring bloom 
in frames in February. Can be forced and propagated from cuttings 
at all seasons. 

*Sneezeweed. See Native Plants, p. 94. 

Sneezewort {Achillea Ptarmica, fi.-pl.). White, button-like flowers in 
loose corymbs all summer; i to 2 feet. One of the most useful 
white flowers for cutting. Much like the yarrow, with finely cut 
leaves. Perfectly hardy. 

Spanish Bayonet, Adam's Needle (Yucca filamentosa). Creamy 
white. June, July; ultimate height, 6 feet. Best desert plant 
for garden use. Bold, rigid foliage, 2 to i\ feet, in dense rosettes. 
Flowers borne in towering spike, after which the old plant makes 
offsets. Good for massing and sub-tropical effects. 

*Spiderwort (Tradescantia Virginiand). Blue, violet. All summer; 
2 feet. Carpeting plant with rich green foliage that endures all the 
season. Invaluable for shaded and poor, wet soils, and for fore- 
ground to ; shrubbery. Also grows in dry soils. Various colour 
varieties in cultivation. 

Spirea (Astilbe Japonica). White. June, July; ij feet. Feathery 
plumes borne above finely cut foliage. The florist's spirea, 
forced for winter. See also Shrubs, p. 185. 

Store's Aster (Stokesia cyaned). Blue, white. August to October; \\ 
feet. Large, flat, thistle-like flowers, 2 inches across. Well- 
drained, deep soil. The white variety quite new. Propagate by 
seeds in frames. 

Sunflower, Maximilian's (Helianthus Maximiliani). Deep yellow. 
October, November; 8 feet. Leaves deeply grooved. Flowers 1^ 
inches. Latest of all the tall perennials, and will endure severe 

frosts; any soil. , Slender (H. orgyalis). September; 4 

feet long. Pale yellow flowers above drooping leaves, 10 to 12 

feet. , Double Perennial (H. multiflorus, var. plenus). 

August; 4 feet. Flowers 4 inches across, symmetrical. Best large, 
double flower of any perennial. Rich soil. Divide every four 

Sweet William (Dianthus barbatus). Maroon, red, pink, white. 
Self-coloured, variegated. Trusses 4 inches across ; fragrant, showy; 

230 The American Flower Garden 

five weeks. One of the best variegated flowers. Best crop always 
second year from seed. Self-sows; transplant seedlings in late 
summer. (See p. 64.) 

Tansy. See Native Plants, p. 95. 

*Tickseed {Coreopsis lanceolata). Yellow. August till frost; 1 to 2 feet. 
Daisy-like flower, 2 inches across; brown centre. One of the very 
best of its colour, and easily grown. For border and for cutting. 
Perfectly hardy. Best to stake the plants, and when setting out 
from seed bed allow one foot distance. All soils, but repays good 
waterings in summer. Rich, damp soil in open places and near 
streams. Best long season yellow flower. 

Veronica {Veronica longi folia, var. subsessilis). Purple. August, 
September. Longest spikes of any autumn flower; long season of 
bloom. Spikes about a foot long. Responds to deep, rich soil and 
sunny position. Very striking for distant mass effects. 

*Virginia Cowslip (Mertensia Virginica, or M. pulmonarioides). Blue. 
April to June; i£ to 2 feet. The bell-like blossoms turn reddish with 
age. Sheltered position, but full sun and rich loam. Resents dis- 
turbance at the roots. Leaves die down after the flowering time. 
Best increased by seeds. 

Wallflower {Cheiranthus Cheiri). Red-brown to deep yellow and 
purplish brown. Quite distinct. May; 1 to i\ feet. Very fra- 
grant. Easily grown in cool, rich soil, with partial shade. Best 
sown in August for wintering in frames ; biennial. Not quite hardy. 
Some early flowering forms like C. annuus are grown as annuals. 

Windflower, Snowdrop {Anemone sylvestris). Cream white, tinged 
with pink. April to July; 1 to i\ feet. The spring counterpart of 
the Japanese anemone, and the largest flower of its kind in spring. 
The bright yellow centre is very striking. Grow in masses against 
shrubbery. Well-drained soil. There is a double variety. 

Winter Cherry, Strawberry Tomato {Physalis Alkekengi). Showy 
red, bladdery calyx, 1 inch across, enclosing an edible fruit. Creeps 
under ground, and becomes troublesome. The modern P. Fran- 
cheti is twice as big and brighter. The cut stalks furnish a welcome 
red for Christmas decorations. 

Note. — Many of the statements in the above list are taken in part from the writings 
of Wilhelm Miller in Country Life in America, and from consultations with J. T. Withers 
and R. Cameron. 


" To succeed in modifying the appearance of a flower is insignificant in 
itself, if you will; but reflect upon it for however short a while, and it becomes 
gigantic. Do we not violate, or deviate, profound, perhaps essential and, in any 
case, time-honoured laws? Do we not exceed too easily accepted limits? Do 
we not directly intrude our ephemeral will on that of the eternal forces? . . . And 
the most modest victory gained in the matter of a flower may one day disclose to 
us an infinity of the untold." — Maeterlinck. 

"As Paradise (though of God's own planting) was no longer Paradise than 
the man was put into it, to dress and keep it; so nor will our Gardens . . . remain 
long in their perfection unless they are also continually cultivated." 

— John Evelvn. 



FOR several reasons, every one who has a garden, large or 
small, will wish to grow at least a few annuals. Others 
may require an entire garden of them. Not every lover 
of flowers owns the land he lives on; and where it is rented for a 
short season only, and quick returns are required rather than future 
gain, a wealth of bloom, a pyrotechnic effect of colour, may be had 
with annuals for a small outlay. The best results with perennials 
come only after the second year, or when the plants are thoroughly 
established; but annuals, hardy or tender, put forth the supreme 
efforts of their exuberant lives in two or three months after their 
seeds are sown, and most of them have bloomed themselves to 
death in as many more. True, the garden of annuals only is bare 
until early summer unless seedlings have been started indoors or 
under glass and transplanted to the open when spring nights can be 
trusted not to pinch them; and the first frost of autumn obliterates 
all trace of the tenderest of them, of all except a few hardy ones 
like marigolds, nasturtiums and Drummond's phlox that eke 
out our meagre autumn bouquets. Light hoar frost can be 
endured by not a few, but black frost finishes them forever: they 
perish root and branch. Only the seeds of a few among the host 
can survive a northern winter in the open. 

A plant that lives only one brief summer would be a poor 
investment of time and money, if one have a permanent home, 
unless the flower have some transcendent merit of fragrance, or 
exquisite form or lovely colour, like the sweet pea, for instance, 


234 The American Flower Garden 

which offers three good reasons why every one grows it. Never- 
theless, for one who rents a country place for only one season, or 
whose home is not occupied in early spring or late autumn, and a 
great show of flowers is wanted at midsummer only, when, it 
must be admitted, comparatively few perennials are at their best; 
when only a small initial outlay can be spared for a garden, or 
when there are gaps in the herbaceous border to be filled in with 
some special colour and timely flowers, annuals will be one's 
source of garden joy. 

"Cut and come again" might be applicable to many annuals 
besides the old-fashioned plant that bore the name. If wilted 
blossoms are kept cut, and seed is not permitted to form, there 
would seem to be no limit to the bloom these most floriferous of 
plants can produce. One must grow some of them, if only in 
the vegetable garden, for cutting alone. The garden and house, 
too, may be kept gay with them. None, perhaps, displays so 
decorative a flower as the hollyhock's spire which, however, is use- 
less for vases; none has the perfectly satisfying outline possessed 
by the iris, most beloved by the artistic Japanese; none can match 
the peony for superb size and style, the creeping phlox and the 
chrysanthemum for earliness and lateness of bloom; but for 
profusion of flowers and duration of them, for fragrance that 
very many of them possess, and for lavish display of colour, annuals 
certainly eclipse their long-lived rivals. 

It is their very prodigality, however, that makes them difficult 
to manage in a garden which they too readily make gaudy. Mod- 
ern hybridisers have been very busy upon them, multiplying new 
forms and tints. More flowers than foliage are seen on many of 
the plants. Especially do they need a background, and very rarely 
do they get one. Unless used with restraint and thoughtfulness 

Annuals 235 

they are apt to look like so many patches of colour in a paint-box, 
or so many bright daubs on the artist's palette, rather than a 
picture complete in itself. Many gardeners, alas, mistake the 
pigments for the painting, and lay on crude, plain colours with a 
broad brush. However beautiful in themselves, a multitude of 
them, unrelated, can actually spoil the garden composition as a 
whole; and the same plants, thoughtfully arranged, can bring 
perfect content in a garden. Annuals, even if short-lived and 
cheap, should be chosen and placed with care. A garden is not 
worth having unless it represents loving thought and affords 
pleasure to the eye. One need not be deeply versed in art, or 
be able to talk a lot of nonsense about it, to distinguish the difference 
between discord and harmony of tint. Some people are gifted 
with a subtle colour sense; some who are born without it may 
acquire taste by patient striving; but until it is attained the most 
satisfying garden effects may not be had. "The first study in 
flower gardening should be Colour — not System, not Design, but 
Colour," says the author of 'The Perfect Garden.' "System 
and Design separate gardeners, Colour unites them. The study 
of colour is equally the privilege of the owners of large and small 
gardens. In it they meet on common ground. The same effects 
can be secured in gardens of varied area. By grouping plants, 
either on a large or small scale, in such a way that their hues blend, 
we get beautiful effects, whether the plants be represented by half 
dozens or by hundreds. Flower gardening for colour is almost a 
new study in gardens, and it is fraught with great possibilities." 
This quotation should be pasted in the crown of every gardener's 
hat. Masses of flowers thoughtlessly planted — a hodge-podge 
of warring colours — give scarcely more pleasure than a crazy 
patchwork quilt. 

236 The American Flower Garden 

Needless to say, perhaps, seeds should be bought only from 
a reliable firm; but, even so, one must be prepared for some dis- 
appointments. Never buy them of a second-rate house merely 
because they seem cheap. Quality, size and cleanliness count 
for more than a penny or two per packet. A small quantity of 
inferior seeds, not half of which will germinate, ought to be sold 
for considerably less than a larger number of carefully grown ones 
from which a high percentage of vigorous stock may be raised. 
Beguiled by the descriptions and glowing pictures of cleverly 
advertised novelties, entranced by the possibility of growing 
quantities of "plants of the easiest culture," you indulge in many 
little packages of seed to sow in the garden of your dreams. The 
more expensive sorts, it is observed, are said to bear the largest, 
handsomest flowers, so you do not hesitate to try them. Although 
the "extra large white trumpets of a new petunia of surpassing 
beauty, exquisitely pencilled and elegantly fringed," for a few 
seeds of which you give a high price, shows on blooming that it 
has reverted to the vulgar type in spite of the hand labour of the 
hybridiser; although the "Persian pink" zinnias may prove to 
be an even grosser magenta; although half your Shirley poppy 
seed may be far too old to sprout, and the fat packets of nasturtiums 
prove to be mostly husks scorned by maggots, still, the proportion 
of disappointments is not so great as to totally discourage. Some 
of your dreams materialise ; some results even exceed your bright- 
est visions. Gardening is only a refined form of gambling, after 
all. Sometimes the odds are fearfully against us; sometimes 
we win; but once the passion seizes us we are the victims of its 
fascination for life. 

Dream-gardening and plan-drawing are occupations for the 
winter, but as the days begin to lengthen we must come to earth 


Annuals 237 

from the rosy clouds, hurry off our list to the seedsman, buy 
fertiliser and attend to other practical preliminaries. All annuals 
may be sown in the open ground, even the tenderest of them, if one 
wait till settled weather to plant them, but in that case one must 
not expect flowers much before midsummer. If a hotbed, in 
which to start the tender annuals and such hardy ones as one wishes 
to begin to bloom earlier than they would if sown in the open 
ground, cannot be had, shallow wooden boxes, two or three inches 
deep, and of any convenient size, may be filled with very fine, 
rich, sandy loam and placed in the sunny windows of the house 
in February or March north of Philadelphia. The first of April 
is not too late to start seeds in the vicinity of Chicago. Sods that 
have been piled up to rot for several years, and then sifted until 
thoroughly mixed with old black manure and sand, make the ideal 
food for infants in the box nurseries. Soil from a spent hotbed 
is the next best, or any good garden loam may be substituted if 
need be. An intermixture of sand helps fine young roots to feel 
their way about in search of food more readily. A bath of boiling 
water poured over the boxes a day or two before the flower seeds 
are sown kills whatever insect life and weed seeds are in them. 
Boxes set in windows can furnish a limited supply of seedlings 
only. More flats may be placed in a greenhouse if you are the 
fortunate possessor of one. Flower-pots and even tin cans are 
pressed into service by the enthusiastic. In any case, sow every 
species more than once, indoors and out, to lessen the chances of 
failure, if not to prolong the blooming season. 

Sooner or later every gardener feels the need of a hotbed, 
and proceeds to make one. If it can be placed with full southern 
exposure in a well-drained, sheltered spot, where the wall of a 
building, a board fence or even an evergreen hedge at its back 

238 The American Flower Garden 

will shield it from northern blasts, so much the better. Concrete, 
in the ratio of one to seven parts of sharp sand, has come to be 
regarded as the cheapest and cleanest permanent wall for the bed- 
Any day-labourer can fill the moulds under intelligent direction. 
Brick makes a good retaining wall, too; but many people use 
planks to line the excavation, which should be two and a half 
feet deep. Dig out the pit at that uniform depth and make it as 
long as required. Hotbed sashes, as generally sold in the trade, 
are three by six feet, so the bed's length will be a number of feet 
divisible by three, inside measurement. Sashes glazed and 
painted cost less than three dollars each. It is desirable to par- 
tition off spaces three feet wide, not only to support the sashes, 
but to separate plants that require much heat from those 
that require a little. On top of the concrete, brick, or plank 
walls — and some people leave merely the earthen walls without 
any reinforcement — place a wooden frame eighteen inches high 
at the back and a foot high in front, which will. give sufficient slope 
to the sashes placed upon it to shed the rain and to catch the 
sunlight. Cross-pieces for the sashes to slide on when one wants 
to open and close the frames are laid on top of the partitions. 

Fresh horse-manure from the stables, added to one-third 
its bulk of litter or leaves for fuel, needs to be well mixed and 
packed down in a compact mass by tramping in order that fermen- 
tation may begin. In a few days the escape of steam from the 
hot heap will indicate that it is time to turn it over for a second 
fermentation, which will require two or three days more. The 
manure is now ready to be laid in layers well tramped down in the 
bottom of the pit to the required depth — about two feet. On 
top of it place two inches of fine, old black manure and six or eight 
inches of well-rotted and sifted sod prepared with sand and 

Annuals 239 

fertiliser as directed for the seed boxes. Now put a thermometer 
in the hotbed and close the sashes. Not until the first heat has 
subsided, and the temperature falls to seventy degrees, is it safe 
to sow seeds. One sometimes sees hotbed plants, that have 
started thriftily, suddenly turn yellow just as they become well 
grown and ready to transplant. This indicates that their roots, 
having pushed through the too-shallow soil in search of food, have 
come suddenly in contact with the hot manure when the precau- 
tion of placing a two-inch layer of old, thoroughly decomposed 
fertiliser between it and the soil has been omitted. 

To hasten germination, soak seed in tepid water over night. 
Fine seed, like the tobacco plant's or petunia's, need be only 
loosely sprinkled over the surface of a small square area and 
pressed into the soil with a smooth, flat piece of board about ten 
inches long and half as wide, having a handle like a stove brush 
on its upper surface. It is the work of only a few minutes to 
make this little tool, which will be found very useful in the garden, 
too, when one comes to plant poppies and other small seeds, which 
will not bear transplanting, in the open ground. A pointed stick 
for making straight little furrows to drop all but very small seeds 
in is another helpful trifle. Repeated sowings, either in the 
hotbed or out of doors, at ten-day intervals, will insure a pro- 
longed succession of bloom. Most novices make five mistakes in 
planting seeds: first, in not working over the surface soil long 
enough to pulverise it and remove every lump and pebble; second, 
in burying seeds too deep; third, in not firming the soil about them 
so that the first feeble roots may come in immediate contact with 
their food; fourth, in sowing too thick; and fifth, in allowing the 
seeds, or seedlings, to dry out. The finest seeds should be scat- 
tered over the surface and merely pressed into the earth, as has 

240 The American Flower Garden 

been said; larger ones, as a rule, need to be planted at a depth 
equal to their diameter; medium-sized seeds like the zinnia's 
and balsam's find an inch of soil over them sufficient, while sweet 
peas, which should be sown in the open ground as early in the 
spring as it can be worked, need to be dropped an inch apart in a 
trench six or eight inches deep, and have soil from the sides drawn 
over the young plants gradually as growth increases, if the vines 
are not to burn out during hot, dry weather. Leave no air spaces 
around any seeds. Newspapers laid over the earth in the hotbed 
where the seeds have been planted prevent them from drying out 
for the first week and encourage them to sprout. 

When a number of varieties of one kind of plant — different 
shades of asters, for example — are sown in the hotbed, strips 
of moulding about the width of a lead pencil make good divisions. 
Without them and plainly marked labels at the top of each line, 
confusion is sure to arise. Tall plants like cosmos or castor bean 
will be put at the deep back part of the hotbed, so as not to screen 
the lower ones in front from the sun and burn their own heads 
off next the glass. Not until seedlings are well rooted is it safe 
to use a watering-pot to sprinkle them. Baby plants are apt to 
be washed out of the soil by a too-violent downpour from a can 
or hose. At first, partly submerge the flats that contain very tiny 
seeds, and use a rubber bulb with a fine rose spray, or a whisk 
broom dipped in tepid water and shaken over those in the hotbed 
at evening or when there is no sun on the glass. So long as the 
nights are cold, straw matting, strips of old carpet, or discarded 
bed quilts should be laid over the sashes after sundown, to keep 
the cosiness in. Young plants, like human babies, require plenty 
of fresh air every mild day. Raise the sashes at the back if the 
temperature in the hotbed rises above seventy-five in the middle 

Annuals 241 

of the day, or if beads of excessive moisture form on them. When 
the sun is bright, but a cold wind blows, lay a strip of carpet along 
the open sash on the windward side. Vigorous growth depends 
upon each plant having room enough to develop and plenty of air 
and light. Weeding and thinning out are vitally important if 
the young plants are not to choke one another to death, and with 
the usual wasteful method of too thick sowing this should be done 
early. Many of the crowded seedlings may be transplanted 
and saved, but this is laborious, and labour is what makes garden- 
ing costly. As the plants rise high in the frames, there is some 
danger of their being scorched. Now remove the glass sashes 
when the sun is bright, and replace them during the day with 
screens made of laths which are nailed an inch and a half apart 
across strips of wood cut the length of each partition of the hot- 
bed. If the nails are clinched and each screen is well braced it 
will last many seasons. Or a coat of whitewash on the glass 
may serve as a sun screen. Before the plants are removed to the 
open ground they need to be gradually hardened; and finally, 
even the lath screens will be left off. It will be observed that it 
is something of a nuisance to start annuals under glass. More 
and more we depend upon the hardier ones and perennials that 
may be grown in the open air. 

But an old hotbed that has lost its heat has not lost its use- 
fulness by any means. Perennial and biennial seed may be sown 
in it at midsummer for next year's blooming; foxgloves and 
Canterbury bells especially appreciate its shelter; the best pansy 
plants, although really perennials, are usually treated as annuals, 
and are started in August to make the spring garden gay; 
violets may be picked from the frames all winter; cuttings of roses, 
heliotrope, carnations, geraniums and begonias, among others, 

242 The American Flower Garden 

root most surely if stuck into sand within the bed's protection; tea- 
roses and other tender plants may be stored in it all winter; tulips, 
narcissus, hyacinths and freesias will bloom before Easter if the 
bulbs are planted in the bed before Christmas. 

A coldframe differs from an old, spent "hotbed" in that 
it never has had manure below the soil to supply heat. Frost 
is kept out by a frame of boards to which sashes are fitted. This 
is placed directly on the ground — no foundation walls being 
necessary — over a bed of prepared earth. Night covers of 
carpet, matting or quilts laid over the glass are kept on during 
severely cold days, also; and manure or earth is banked around 
the outside of the frame where it rises above the surface of the 
ground. Nothing that cannot survive a touch of frost should 
ever be trusted to a coldframe. 

Tender annuals like the warmth-loving portulaca may not 
be transplanted from the hotbed, nor their seeds sown in the 
open garden until the ground is thoroughly warmed. Half- 
hardy annuals, such as the deliciously fragrant tobacco, the asters 
and petunias, may go out as soon as all danger from frost is over 
— about the middle of May in the vicinity of New York — when 
their seed, also, may be sown in the open ground; whereas the 
hardier annuals, among which are included feverfew, stock, 
marigolds, calendula, bachelor's buttons, calliopsis, poppies and 
zinnias, need not wait for fully settled weather. Indeed, many 
seeds of hardy annuals you will find have lived out through the 
winter where they were scattered in the garden by the parent 
plants the year before, and these self-sown seedlings will need 
rearranging early in the spring if the garden is not to look unkempt. 
Wet the plants before and after moving them at evening or on 
a cloudy day, and protect them from the sun with inverted 

Annuals 243 

flowerpots, newspapers, umbrellas', or any improvised canopy before 
they begin to wilt. Calliopsis, sweet alyssum, cornflowers and 
poppies, to name a few lusty monopolists, will so quickly overrun 
their allotted plots and come up where they are not wanted that 
sometimes, alas! they must be treated with the discourtesy shown 
weeds. The usual trouble with some plants once started in a 
garden is not how to grow, but how to get rid of the charming 

If the amateur gardener can think of no better way to grow 
annuals than to cut up a lawn into geometric beds, planting circles 
within circles, or row after row of ageratum, lobelia, coleus, cigar 
plant, geraniums, dusty miller, asters, and salvia, it would be 
better for the appearance of his place that he never grew a flower 
at all. A lawn may be framed by flowers, but cutting it up into 
beds not only contracts its apparent size, but spots it over with 
patches of unrelated colour that mean nothing but bad taste and 
hard work. Annuals may be most artistically displayed when 
disposed in much the same way that perennials are — planted 
in front of shrubbery or hedges that serve as a foil to their rich, 
high colours. Indeed, all that was said in the previous chapter 
about the arrangement of perennials applies to annuals as well. 
The two classes of plants admirably supplement each other when 
used together. Oftentimes annuals will supply just the tints 
needed to bring harmony into a perennial border. Or, they may 
be set out with punctilious nicety in formal parterres where a 
continuous performance, a vaudeville show of flowers, is required, 
one lot of plants being hustled into the ground after another as 
its beauty departs. But arranging annuals for rapid succession 
in the same beds throughout a season is work that the novice need 
not attempt. It implies a staff of skilled gardeners, and to all 

244 The American Flower Garden 

except the superfluously rich would be scarcely worth while. 
From the box-edged plots of old-fashioned gardens certain of the 
hardy annuals were rarely absent. Our busy grandmothers 
naturally delighted in plants that sowed themselves. Some such 
old favourites may be started in the naturalistic garden where 
brilliant shimmering sheets of poppies are especially charming. 
Cornflowers may be naturalised in a pasture if sown in early 
spring with rye and timothy. Sprinkle poppy seed there, too. 
Seeds of a few annuals will be scattered among the rocks in the 
Alpine garden or in the damp rich soil beside a pond or brook. 
Now that the lovely wild-fringed gentian has been tamed, and 
the secret of growing it from seed has been disclosed, it may adorn 
the banks of our water gardens where it loves to see its vivid beauty 
reflected in a mirror. Like the cardinal flower, it looks out of 
place in a dressed garden. 

Some annuals will be grown because they furnish a wealth 
of flowers for cutting — cornflowers not only because they match 
the Nankin china on the dining-table, but because they attract 
flocks of dainty goldfinches to feast upon their seed; marigolds 
and calendula for the glitter of their sunshine, not in the garden 
only, but in the house, where they take their turn with the indis- 
pensable nasturtiums in brightening dark rooms; the marvel- 
lously improved zinnias, some of whose lambent, glowing flowers 
look especially well in burnished copper bowls — every one has 
his or her favourites. If there is no better place to grow sweet 
peas, which are not lovely until myriads of butterflies seem to 
be fluttering over the pea brush or wire netting that supports the 
vines, let them scramble over it in the kitchen garden where 
their succulent, plebeian relatives would feel at home. When a 
regiment of tall Russian sunflowers is drawn up as if in battle 



Annuals 245 

array along the fence, it makes a decorative screen, and after 
the seed is ripe enough to drop, the chickens are quite happy and 
presently wax fat. Even the new asters, with petals almost as 
long as a chrysanthemum's, are not too aristocratic to live in a 
vegetable garden, if necessary, with the ten weeks' stock, Chinese 
pinks, nasturtiums, marigolds and other flowers that one wants 
to cut from daily. 

Those who have little time to devote to their flowers will grow 
the annuals that re-sow themselves in out-of-the-way corners that 
may be safely neglected a while, but not close to the house where 
no one cares to display untidiness. Certain annuals, calliopsis 
and gaillardia, for example, will be chosen for sunny places ; others, 
like musk, godetia, pansies and nemophila for shady ones, where 
so few really fine flowers feel at home; some drought resisters, 
such as nasturtiums and zinnias, for dry places; others than the 
annual chrysanthemum and calendula because you have only 
heavy soil to offer them; still others because they like a cool 
northern climate which suits perfectly the wallflower, annual 
phlox, pansy, stock, marigold, cornflower, snapdragon, sweet 
alyssum and candytuft. These will bloom after frost. Many 
tender perennials and biennials are treated as annuals in this 
country. Every one wants mignonette for its fragrance, and sows 
it as near to the living-room windows as may be. The tobacco 
plant, that looks rather bedraggled by day, opens its white trumpets 
at dusk and makes the garden starry at night — but, like the 
evening primrose, which also resembles a faded ball-room beauty 
in broad daylight, it is best relegated to the background of the 
border where the datura may have been placed. Their fragrance 
will fill the air. Bartonia, sweet William, stock and alyssum, too, 
perfume the garden, which should be as fragrant as it is beautiful 

246 The American Flower Garden 

and, if it is to be enjoyed at evening by tired commuters from 
town, let white and yellow flowers abound. These shine forth 
after all others have been engulfed by darkness. Really, the 
commuter should be far more considered than his wife, who has 
the whole day at home in which to enjoy the garden. 

Probably the bedding-out system, once so popular, albeit 
a ridiculously expensive and troublesome treatment for annuals, 
marked the lowest point that our national taste in gardening will 
ever reach. It flourished when flowers for stiff pyramidal bou- 
quets were mounted on wire and toothpicks, and it had much in 
common with this method. Here and there we still see geranium 
beds edged with dusty miller in the exact centre of little lawns, 
the name of a railroad station laboriously spelled out in parti- 
coloured coleus plants, or the initials of a newly rich owner of a 
country place displayed near its entrance where all who run may 
read. But public taste is rapidly improving: clam-shells and 
coleus are rapidly disappearing from American gardens. 

Annuals That Everybody Can Grow 

Plants marked thus (*) are vines, and useful for screens, etc. While the flowering 
date given is that of New York, it is also practically true for most sections. 

Ageratum {Ageratum conyzoides). Purplish blue; 8 inches. Best 
blue hardy annual for edging; blooms 3 months. Start in heat in 
March for early flowers, or in the open in May. 

Alyssum, Sweet (Alyssum maritimurri). White. 8 inches. Average 
soils in sun. Fragrant. July till frost by cutting back or by suc- 
cessional sowings. Grows in cold regions and in heavy soils also. 
Sow in heat in March; outdoors April to September. 

Amaranthus, Love-Lies-Bleeding (Amaranthus caudatus). Scarlet to 
yellow. Warm, sunny places. June; 3 to 5 feet. The best of the 

family, but too gaudy for dainty gardens. , Prince of Wales's 

Feather (A. hypochondriacal). Coarser, with purplish heads and 
foliage. Cparse, unlovely plants. 

Annuals 247 

Amethyst (Browallia demissa or elata). Blue, violet, white. All sum- 
mer; 1^ feet. Treat as half-hardy annual, although it may be sown 
in open border. Grows in poorer soil than most others of a tender 
nature. Best planted out May 15 from heat. Will bloom till frost. 

Aster, China (Callistephus hortensis). White to purple and red, not 
yellow. August; 1 to 2 feet. Best large flowered plant of the daisy 
type, with most colours and types. Sow in open for strongest plants ; 
but for early bloom in frames and transplant. Subject to a subtle 
disease. Use rich soil and wood ashes. 

Baby's Breath (Gypsophila elegans). White, sometimes rosy. May; 
I J feet. Loose, much-branched panicles. Open, rather dry places. 
Sow in succession. 

*Balloon Vine (Cardiospermum Halicacahurri). Flowers incon- 
spicuous. Inflated fruits an inch across, freely produced. 
Tender. 10 feet. 

Balsam (Impatiens balsamind). Red, white, yellow. July to October; 
1 to 2 feet. Flowers borne in the axils of the leaves all along the 
stalk. Give rich, sandy loam in full sun, with abundant moisture. 
Sow outdoors in May. Indoors March, April. The summer-sot 
of old gardens. 

Bartonia (Mentzelia Lindleyi). Yellow. July to September; I to 3 feet. 
Flowers 2J inches across. Fragrant in evening. Sow outdoors in 

Bellflower, Large-styled (Campanula macrostyla). Pale purple, 
solitary flowers, %\ inches across, hairy within. Long, protruding 
pistil, which is brown and spindle shaped before opening. Plant 
1 to 2 feet. Self-sown seeds sometimes take a year to germinate. 

Blanket Flower (Gaillardia pulchelld). Yellow and rose purple; 
Summer; 1 to 2 feet. Flower on globose head. Give light, open, 
well-drained soil. The form known as Lorenziana has disc flowers 
all tubular. 

Butterfly Flower (Schizanthus pinnatus). Violet, lilac and yellow 
in combination. July; 2 feet. Very striking, and though hardy, 
usually grown in pots indoors. Good garden soil. Many named 
garden forms. One of the best variegated flowers. 

California Poppy (Eschschohia Calif ovnicd). Yellow. June; 1 foot 
spreading. Glaucous, finely cut foliage. Really a perennial; can 
be sown very early but does not transplant well. Sow in succession 

248 The American Flower Garden 

in the open ground, and in fall for early spring. Most soils, 

including sandy. 
Calliopsis. See p. 253. 
Candytuft (Jberis amard). Red, white. June to September; 6 inches. 

Sow outdoors April to July every two weeks for succession, and in 

fall for early spring. Blooms after frost, Resists drought. 
Castor Bean (Ricinus communis). For subtropical foliage effect; 

3 to 8 feet, enduring till frost comes. The large palmate leaves are 

the boldest among all the annuals. Plant seed where to grow, and 

give very rich soil for large development. 
Catchfly (Silene Armeria, S. penduld). Red, white. July to October; 

1 foot. Prefers sandy loam in full sun. The inflated calyx is quite 

a showy part of the flower. Good for edging and for rocky places. 

Sow in May. 
Chrysanthemum (Chrysanthemum coronarium and C. carinatum). 

July to August; 2 to 3 feet. Former is white and yellow, purple disc; 

latter all pale yellow and dwarfer. Heavy soil. Good for cutting. 

Double forms. Good also for pot culture and bedding. 
Clarkia (Clarkia elegans). Purple and rose to white. June to October; 

I to 2 feet. Light soil in sun or half shade. Good for edging and 

massing. Blooms 8 weeks. Late sowings give flowers after frost. 

Sow in fall for early spring. One of the commonest plants. 
*Coboea (Cobcea scandens). Vine, 10 to 20 feet. Flowers greenish 

purple. A tender perennial, but usually treated as an annual. 

Sow seeds in heat or outdoors in moist, rich earth and edgewise. 
Corn, Japanese Variegated (Zea Mays, var. Japonicus). 3 to 4 feet. 

Grown for its strikingly variegated foliage, white and green in longi- 
tudinal stripes. Sow like ordinary corn. 

Cornflower (Centaurea cyanus). Blue. July to September, 1 to 2 
feet. Thistle-like heads of richest blue. The best annual of its 
colour. Grows with the poppy and makes an excellent combination. 
Seed relished by goldfinches. 

Cosmos (C. bipinnatus). White, pink, red, crimson. August to October; 
7 to 10 feet. The best tall late annual, with daisy-like flowers. 

Sow as early as possible after frost, in not too rich, sandy soil. , 

Yellow (C. sulphureus). Less tall, and smaller flowers. These 
are particularly valuable for late flowers. Stake early. 

Annuals 249 

Cotton (Gossypium herbaceurri). Pale yellow with dark eye. July; 3 feet. 
Large, bold leaves. Warm situations. Will not grow North. Rich soil. 

*Cypress Vine (Ipomaa quamoclii). Flowers scarlet, white. June, 
July; vine 10 to 20 feet. A dark green, very feathery foliage, making 
dense mass. Scald seeds before sowing. Outdoors May; indoors 
March and April. Water freely. 

Everlasting (Helichrysum bracteatum). Yellow to dull crimson and 
white. August; 2 to 3 feet. The semi-double daisy-like flowers 
endure indefinitely when cut and dried. This is the largest flowered 
everlasting. Others are Helipterum roseum, bright pink, flat; 
H. Rhodanthe or Mangiest, bright pink, long; Xeranthemum annuum, 
purple. All of easiest culture in any soil. 

Flax (Linum grandiflorum). Red. July; 1 to 2 feet. Colour varies, 
but the glossy appearance is very attractive. Flowers 1 to 1 J inches 
across. Only good in the border, fading as soon as cut, and killed 

by first frost. (L. usitatissimum). Blue. § inch across. 

Sow in open border in May. 

Globe Amaranth (Gomphrena globosd). Pink. July; i§ feet. Numer- 
ous colour varieties in the trade, also dwarf and compact forms. 
Button-like heads an inch in diameter. Everlasting. 

Godetia (CEnothera amcena, CE. Whitneyt). Red, white. July to 
October; 1 to 2 feet. Most showy large flowered annuals for shaded 
places. Flowers 1 to i| inches across and peculiar satiny lustre, 
larger in the latter species. Does also in sun. Any soil. Sow in 
May, or in heat in March for June flowers. 

Hare's Tail (Lagurus ovatus). Tuft of leaves 8 inches high, covered 
with soft whitish down, and bending downward. Ideal edging plant. 
Flower head borne several inches above the foliage, in silvery white 
egg-like tufts an inch and a half long. 

Hemp (Cannabis sativa, var. gigantea). Greenish flowers. August; 10 
feet. A rough-looking plant for bold foliage effects or screen. Best 
to sow where wanted, but may be started in heat and transplanted. 
Rich moderately moist soil. 

*Hop, Japanese (Humulus Japonicus, var. variegatus). August, a vine 
10 to 20 feet. Foliage variously streaked and splashed with white 
and deeply cut. Sow seeds outdoors in May. One of the quickest 
growing annual vines. Self-sows freely. 

250 The American Flower Garden 

*Hyacinth Bean (Dolichos Lablab). Purple or magenta and white. 
July; vine twining 10 to 20 feet. Resists drought. Flower spikes 
borne well out from the foliage and followed by similarly coloured 
fruits. Killed by first frost. 

Ice Plant (Mesembryanthemum crystallinurri). White. August to 
September. Trailing. Grown for its succulent thick foliage, 
covered with glistening glands. Thrives in dryest situations. 

Job's Tears (Coix Lachryma-Jobi). 3 to 4 feet. "Seeds" make 
necklaces for children to cut their teeth on. The plant looks like 
a poor corn-plant when growing. Only curious. 

Cockscomb (Celosia cristata). Crimson. 1 foot. The flower heads are 
grown into a monstrosity something like a rooster's crest 8 inches 
to 1 foot across. Used in floral beds as borders. Sow indoors and 
plant out in May. Give abundant water. Coarse, common plant. 

Larkspur, Annual (Delphinium Ajacis). Eight colours from white 
through pink and turquoise to purest blue. August to September; 
ij feet. Sow indoors in September for flowers in July. Any good 
light soil in sun. 

Lavatera (Lavatera trimestris). Rose. July; 3 to 6 feet. Most 
refined annual of the mallow family. Flowers 4 inches across. Its 
tender rose colour as fine as that of best pink hollyhocks. 

Lobelia (Lobelia Erinus). Blue. All summer; 6 to 12 inches. One 

of the most popular plants for edging. , "Crystal Palace" 

(L. Erinus, var. compactd). Best of the species for edging. Good 
garden soil. 

Love-in-a-mist (Nigella Damascend). White, blue. All summer; 
2 feet. Flowers 1 inch across nestling in finely cut fennel-like foliage. 
Fruit a long capsule. Do not transplant. Sow for succession from 
early March and in early fall for spring bloom. 

Marigold, African (Tagetes erectd). Rich orange to pale lemon. 
August to frost; 2 feet. Solid globes up to %\ inches in diameter, 

on a freely branching shrub-like bush. Very pungent odour. , 

French (T. patula). Yellowish to red-brown. 1 foot. Darker 
foliage. Good bedder; useful for edging. Raise in open, or in 
pots to induce earlier bloom. Give rich soil. 

Marigold, Pot (Calendula officinalis). Orange, yellow. July to Octo- 
ber; 1 to 2 feet. The old-fashioned herb. Flowers in succession for 

Annuals 251 

a long period. Used for flavouring soups. Grows anywhere, but 
delights in warm, rich soil. Sow in May. Self-sows usually. 

Mignonette (Reseda odorata). Greenish. July to October; i foot. 
Grown for its fragrance. Flowers in spikes. Does not transplant 
well. Should be sown in permanent place. Sow in succession from 
April to August, outdoors. Last sowing will give plants for winter 

Mock Cypress (Kochia scoparid). Grown for foliage. A dense, much- 
branched, neat bush 2 to 2§ feet high, with linear branches, turning 
scarlet in late summer. Sow in open in May or indoors in April. 
Plant two feet apart in any good soil. Good for temporary hedges. 

*Moonflower (Ipomcea Bona-nox). White. August to September; 15 to 
30 feet. Most rapid growing annual vine. Flowers open at night; 
6 inches across. Sow outdoors May; indoors January to March. 
2 inches deep. 

*Morning Glory (Ipomcea purpurea). Purple, pink and blue to white. 
July to August; vine, 10 to 20 feet. Rapid growing, profuse 
flowering. Do not sow till ground is warm. Soak seeds in water 
first. Resows; sometimes becomes a weed. 

Musk (Mimulus moschatus). Yellow, mottled and dotted, splashed 
brown. July, August; § to 1 foot. A perennial creeper, but treated 
as an annual. Give cool, moist situation and shade, when it is one of 
the very best plants. Sow in May, on the surface and cover lightly. 

*Nasturtium, Tall (Tropceolum majus). , Dwarf (T. minus). 

Scarlet, yellow, maroon; July to October; 1 to 5 feet. Will not 
stand frost. Leaves used as salad. Good for screens, for rough 
places, and for cut flowers. 

Nemophila (Nemophila insignis). Pure blue; July, August; 1 to ij 
feet. The best blue-flowered annual, blooming over a long season, 
and having bell-shaped flowers an inch across. Moist loam in partial 
shade. Said not to succeed around Boston. 

Pansy (Viola tricolor). Purple, blue, white, yellow. May to October; 
J to 1 foot. For early flowers sow in August and winter with protec- 
tion. Sow outdoors from June onward; indoors January and 
February. Best spring bedder. 

Petunia (Petunia hybrida). Magenta, claret, white. July to September; 
I to 2 feet. The most profuse bloomer and sweet scented, but the 

252 The American Flower Garden 

type is a frightful colour and must be used alone. Resists drought. 
Rather weedy habit. Flowers saucer-like, 2 inches across. Sow on 
surface in May. 

Phlox, Annual (Phlox Drummondi). Red, crimson, white, and prim- 
rose. July to October; i foot. Makes a spreading bushy tuft with 
a profusion of flowers f inch across. Sow thinly in May and cut 
back after first flowers if in dry soil and water freely. Self-sows for 

Pink, Chinese (Dianthus Chinensis, var. Heddewigi). White, rose, 
maroon. August; I foot. Flowers I inch across, fringed and 
variously variegated. Warm, well-drained soil. Sow outdoors 
March, April; indoors February for May bloom. 

Poppy, Corn (Papaver Rhoeas). Pink, scarlet, white. August, Septem- 
ber; \ to 2 feet. More refined varieties are the "Shirley Poppies." 
Sow thinly on cool soil; often self-sows, and then blooms early. 

, Opium (P. somniferum). 3 feet. Large flowers double or 

single in great variety of colours, not yellow. Bold glaucous foliage. 

Portulaca. See Rose Moss. 

Rose Moss (Portulaca grandiflora). White, red, magenta. July to 
October; 6 to 9 inches. Very brilliant flowers 1 inch across, flourish- 
ing on dry soils. Leaves succulent, rounded. Single varieties bloom 
earlier than doubles. Scatter seeds on the surface when weather is 
warm. Most gaudy plants for very dry places. 

Salpiglossis (S. sinuatd). Shades of purple and blue through reds and 
yellows to creamy white, and variously veined and mottled. Sum- 
mer; 1 to 2 feet. Tubular flowers, with large, flat expansion. Very 
effective and most singular. Treat as half hardy, sowing in heat. 
Any good soil. 

Sage, Scarlet (Salvia splendens). Scarlet. August; 2 feet. A tender 
perennial, but very commonly grown as a hardy annual. The spikes 
of scarlet, a foot long, are the hottest flowers of the hot season. 

Sensitive Plant (Mimosa pudicd). 1 foot. Grown as a curiosity. 
Leaflets fold up and stalks drop when touched or shaken. Intro- 
duced from tropical America in 1638, but is easily grown from seed 
sown outdoors in May. Flowers a small ball of pink filaments. 

Shell Flower (Molucella leevis). White, pink tipped. Fragrant. 
June, July; 2 to 3 feet. Shell-like calyx in which four white seeds 
nestle like eggs. Gaping flowers. Self-sows. Any soil. 

Annuals 253 

Stock, Ten Weeks (Matthiola incana, var. annua). White, pink, 
purple. July; i foot. Has strong clove fragrance. Flowers 
last well. Single and double forms; latter particularly use- 
ful. Sow outdoors in May, or in heat in March for June 

Sunflower (Helianthus annuus). Yellow. August; 3 to 12 feet. 
Individual flowers from 6 to 14 inches across, like huge daisies. A 
valuable quick-growing screen plant, good on any soil. Plant seeds 
two inches deep. 

Swan River Daisy (Brachycome iberidifolid). Pale blue or white, 1 inch 
across. 6 inches to 1 foot. Like an aster, but flowering earlier. 
Good for cutting. Start in heat for very early bloom. 

Sweet Scabious (Scabiosa atropurpurea). Dark purple, rose, white. 
July to October; 2 feet. Like large double daisies. Good for 
cutting. Any soil. 

Sweet Sultan (Centaurea moschata). Yellow, white, or purple; July, 
August; 2 feet. Musk-scented. Large heads like giant cornflowers. 
C. Margarita, pure white, is a famous modern strain. Does not 
transplant easily. Lasts 10 days. Sow outdoors in May. 

*Sweet Pea (Lathyrus odoratus). Various colours; July to October; 
3 to 6 feet. Most popular fragrant annuals for cutting. Modern 
improved forms greatly superior. Deeply trenched, heavy soil. 
Excellent in cooler climates. Make three sowings for succession, 
the last between the other two for shade. Sow in September for 
early flowers. 

Tarweed (Madia elegans). Yellow. July to October; 1 to 2 feet. 
Best yellow annual for shaded places. Flowers open morning and 
evening. Plant has graceful open habit. Sow in May. 

Tickseed, Calliopsis (Coreopsis tinctorid). Yellow rays with dark 
maroon base. June, July, and later; 1 to 3 feet. One of the best 
showy, easily grown annuals for cutting. Any soil. 

Tobacco (Nicotiana Tabacuni). Red, white. July, August; 3 to 5 feet. 
Most effective as a bold screen for its large leaves. Flowers 4 to 6 

inches long, but not otherwise showy. (N. alata). Showy 

white flowers, fragrant, opening at night. (N. Sandera). Is 

similar, but in various colours, effective against dark background. 
Sow on surface in May. 

254 The American Flower Garden 

Wallflower (Chieranthus Chiert). Early blooming forms of this 
perennial are grown as annuals. May be grown easily in a moist 
soil with moderate shade. 

Wishbone Flower (Torenia Fournieri). Yellow, blue, purple. July 
to October; 6 inches. A low, bushy, floriferous plant for bedding 
and a good substitute for the pansy. Tender; sow indoors in March 
or April. 

Zinnia {Zinnia elegans). Red, scarlet, yellow, magenta and inter- 
mediate tints. July to November; % feet. Individual flowers 2 to 
3 inches across. The best showy annual for very late bloom. 
Thrives in any deep, rich soil. Very effective for distant masses. 
Endures drought and some frost. Get well-selected strains for 
pure colours, avoiding magenta and greenish tinges. Sow outside 
in May; or indoors in March. Transplants easily. 

Note. — The following true perennials may be treated as annuals bloom- 
ing the first year from seed sown annually in March: Snapdragon, 
Cupid's Dart, Mouse-eared Chic'kweed, Perennial Tickseed, Larkspur, 
Sweet William, Scotch Pink, Moldavian Balm, Blanket Flower, Horned 
Poppy, French Honeysuckle, Rocket, Sunset Hibiscus, Man-of-the 
Earth, Column Flower, Flax, Honesty, Musk Mallow, Monkey Flower, 
Forget-me-not, Iceland Poppy, Polyanthus, Sidalcea. 



"Nature will have none of your false systems. She is supreme, absolute as 
is her Author. She repudiates our foolishness, and rudely dispels our illusions. 
Work with her and she responds, aids, and rewards us in proportion to the worth of 
our endeavours; but if we would outwit her, coerce or restrain her action, and 
falsify her teaching, at once she gives us the lie by the sterility, destruction, and 
death of everything we have sought to create in defiance of her laws." 

— Lamartine: "Address to Gardeners." 



HERE are plants for every place and purpose — beauty 
for formal beds and borders, for the water garden, the 
rockery, the meadows, the woodland, and especially for 
the wild spots on our grounds, for wherever we would impose our 
ideals upon the land we control. Let us not be restrained by 
the definitions of the classifiers. The botanist would perhaps 
name a tulip as the most familiar example of a bulb, being "built 
up of a series of fleshy scales." He will tell you that the gladiolus 
grows from a corm, the canna from a tuber, and the iris from a 
rhizome, and has pity in his eye for you if you refer to any one of 
these as a root. But to the flower-lover, plants that store up in 
a bulb or any of these fleshy "roots" during one growing season 
the food that is to last them well through the next season of bloom, 
are a class by themselves, sufficiently distinct, in his mind at least, 
for all practical purposes. 

Because they have so much latent beauty stored when we 
receive them from the dealer, and are so little dependent, at first, 
upon the expert skill of a gardener, bulbs of one kind or another 
are grown by every one. Some are of the simplest culture; some 
cost as little as three for a cent; some are among the most costly 
indulgences of specialists; others are more popular than any other 
plants in the trade. 

Probably there will never again be a feverish craze for tulips 
such as once attacked the phlegmatic Dutch; certainly Americans 
are not wont to weigh gold in the balance for a Semper Augustus 


258 The American Flower Garden 

or any bulb however choice. "La Tulipe Noire" is not much 
called for in our public libraries. But we grow tulips by 
the million, even if we don't mortgage our property to secure 
the rarest. 

Not having to forage for food early in the spring before they 
can bloom — their larders having been filled after blossoming the 
previous year — many bulbs are prepared to rush into flower at 
the break-up of winter. Like friends in need, they come when 
most wanted. A flower may be insignificant in itself, but if it 
appear when trees are bare and winds are raw, when the earth is 
slushy and the muddy, roads are fluid and bottomless, how much 
we prize it! The fragile little white snowdrop "with heart-shaped 
seal of green," nodding from its slender stem in the meadow, is 
not impressive, it is true; but because it is the very earliest flower 
cultivated — only the hepatica in Nature's garden being con- 
temporary — it is dear to the hearts of the people. There is a 
so-called giant snowdrop (with petals nearly an inch long) which 
is more effective than its little sister of the snows, but it blooms 
no earlier than the crocus, and never will be so beloved as the 
first flower. Planted in colonies and left to care for themselves, 
snowdrops succeed best in partially shady places, being one of 
the few bulbs that will bloom under trees. 

After the snowdrop comes the reign of blue and purple. In 
the new grass, Siberian squills, small flowers of an intense blue, 
like Meissen china, give one a thrill of pleasure the first day 
that there is a feeling of spring in the air. Glory-of-the-snow 
(Chinodoxa) makes spots of beauty on the earth where snow- 
drifts lately lay, when the first bluebird shows a glint of the heavenly 
colour, too, as he flies about the orchard looking for a nesting hole. 
Other early bulbs may be foregone, but purple, lavender, white 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 259 

and yellow crocuses, everyone who has spring flowers at all must 
have. At three dollars a thousand, who would not spangle his 
lawn with them and "paint the meadows with delight" ? "Bulbs 
have a mission in life," says Wilhelm Miller. "They seem to 
have been divinely appointed to entertain us from the moment 
when winter becomes too tedious for words until the trees leaf 
out and spring strikes high C." 

Where shall the small early bulbs be planted ? Flowers that 
must withstand buffeting spring winds do not erect themselves on 
tall stems only to be snapped off, but hug the earth. They appre- 
ciate shelter. Too inconspicuous and ineffective to be planted 
singly or even by dozens, but happily cheap enough to be used 
by the hundred or even by the thousand on large estates, snow- 
drops, scillas, crocuses, grape hyacinths, and the lovely little 
star of Bethlehem, a late bloomer, perhaps never look so well as 
when naturalised in the grass. They seem to require the green 
background. Seen against bare earth in the flower border they 
lose half their charm. Their narrow, pointed leaves, shaped 
like knife blades to cut the wind as it whistles harmlessly by, 
can scarcely be told from the surrounding grass. Later in the 
summer, after the bulbs have stored up potential energy and 
beauty for another year and prepared for a long rest, the leaves 
dry up and disappear. But woe betide the bulbs if a mowing- 
machine cuts off the leaves while they are still working! Who- 
ever would see his lawn gay with crocuses in March must defer 
cutting it for a month. Even so, crocuses die out after a few 
years when planted among grass, whereas they multiply in a 
garden. On the other hand, the star of Bethlehem might run 
out the grass from a lawn and should never be planted in one. 
It spreads prodigiously. A gently sloping, half-shaded bank or 

260 The American Flower Garden 

a patch of meadow will be covered with the thick mat of its white- 
ribbed green leaves and myriads of green-ribbed white stars. 
While we may scarcely hope to have such sheets of the lovely, misty, 
lavender-blue wood hyacinths (Scilla festalis or nutans) as Nature 
spreads in wild places throughout Europe, the bulbs are cheap 
enough to be tested in everybody's moist open woods and meadows. 
More intense effects of blue, lavender, and purple may be had 
from colonies of grape hyacinths, squills, chionodoxa, quamash, 
and crocuses. The grape hyacinth, known as "Heavenly Blue," 
makes patches of charming colour on a shady bank near a stream. 

In October,, when bulbs come from the dealer — and they 
deteriorate if left long out of the ground — stand in the centre of 
the bit of land where you would naturalise them, toss them from 
the bag in all directions, some near, some far, and plant them 
where they fall. Regularity, rows, completely spoil the effect. 
The smallest bulbs may lie only an inch or two inches apart. 
A strong tin apple corer will cut out holes to drop them in, or a 
dibber, made from an old spade handle whittled to a point, is 
often used. This, however, packs the surrounding earth hard, 
and each hole should be filled with good soil. A spud is convenient 
for the smallest bulbs only. For large ones a trowel is necessary 
unless one be the happy possessor of an English bulb-planting tool. 
Some gardeners turn back a bit of sod on the corner of their spade, 
drop the bulb in the opening and replace the sod, leaving no trace of 
their operations behind them until the flowers push their way 
through in spring. 

How bare would the rock garden be without the cheerful 
spring bulbs! Whoever has one will fill its gray crevices with 
their brightness and secure a long succession of bloom by placing 
some in sheltered sunny places, under the lee of a sombre stone 


• '- 


Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 261 

that acts also as a foil for their gaiety, some on cold northern 
slopes. Or, some of the earliest flowering bulbs may be planted 
between rows of tulips and hyacinths in a formal bed, for they 1 
have acted their little part and modestly withdrawn from the stage 
by the time those prime donne appear. Clumps of pansies and 
hardy violets, set out at intervals of two feet among the daffodils 
and tulips in the foreground of the perennial border in March, do 
not harm the bulbs, but soon spread and carpet the bare earth 
about them. Wherever there is room for a weed to grow we may 
hope to have a better plant. 

It was William Wordsworth, exponent of the simple life, who 
first put the idea of growing daffodils by the multitude into our 
innocent heads: 

"Continuous as the stars that shine 
And twinkle in the Miiky Way, 
They stretch in never-ending line 
Along the margin of the bay; 
Ten thousand saw I at a glance 
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance." 

How can we content ourselves with less, having this inspiring 
picture ever in mind ? Both the yellow, long trumpeted daffodil 
and the fragrant white narcissus quickly colonise from compara- 
tively small beginnings. A thousand poet's narcissus may be 
bought for five dollars or even less. Does the masculine amateur 
think it worth while to sacrifice a box of cigars for their possession, 
if heed be, or the feminine gardener to trim over her last year's hat 
and spend the price of a new one on permanent joy ? There are 
many ways of reconciling delightful extravagances to one's con- 
science. Every gardener worthy the name has tried a few and 
thereby earned the fight to be charitable in his judgment. Moham- 
med said: "He that hath two cakes of bread, let him sell one of 

262 The American Flower Garden 

them — for bread is only food for the body, but the narcissus is 
food for the soul." Surely we cannot do less than the heathen ? 
But if, after we have sold our bread, we have not enough coin 
in our purse to buy a quantity of daffodils at the regular rates, 
what then ? Approach a florist who forces them under glass on 
a large scale for cut flowers only. He needs fresh bulbs for forcing, 
but the old bulbs that he is glad to sell you at a bargain, if put into 
the ground as early as it can be worked in spring, recover their 
strength and bloom gloriously the following year and probably 
ever after. There is a field in New Jersey where the daffodils 
that once surrounded an old garden have been multiplying without 
anybody's care for over a hundred years. 

Three distinct types of narcissus, each class with seemingly 
innumerable representatives, bewilder the novice who would make 
a choice. First there are the hardy yellow daffodils, both the 
single long trumpeted ones and the double forms with many 
yellow petticoats overlapping; second, the white or yellow flowered, 
fragrant type to which the poet's narcissus and the sweet-scented 
campernelle and jonquil belong; and third, the Tazetta type, with 
many flowers on a stem, most commonly represented by the 
Chinese sacred "lily" grown by many Celestials in bowls filled 
with pebbles and water in their laundry windows. The class last 
named has not afforded hardy bulbs for the garden until recently. 
Now, both white and yellow flowered ones — true polyanthus 
narcissus — may be safely grown in the open ground so far North 
as Boston. The name narcissus, though the botanical title of 
the whole family, is popularly applied only to the small-cupped 
species; and the name daffodil, in popular parlance, has come to 
include all the members of the family with long or medium 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 263 

Naturalised, scattered colonies of these incomparable flowers 
beside little lakes, in meadows, along woodland borders, old stone 
walls and entrance drives would seem to be the ideal way of plant- 
ing them, but in no situation, perhaps, could they be less than 
lovely. When left alone they will protect themselves against 
encroachment, even of quack grass, and steadily increase in quan- 
tity, sometimes even in quality, of bloom. Do not lift and divide the 
bulbs until the flowers show by deterioration that they are over- 
crowded. Planted in a shrubbery border where a flowing ribbon 
of daffodils at its edge is a cheerful sight indeed on an April morn- 
ing, the bulbs need a top dressing of fertiliser now and then to 
replace nourishment stolen by the shrubs. Daffodils enliven the 
perennial borders, too, where, however, their presence is apt to 
be forgotten after their leaves die off, and injury may be done 
the bulbs if a fork be used among the plants. Moreover, they 
leave bare patches after them. Some gardeners sow sweet alyssum, 
mignonette or some other low-growing annual over them to carpet 
their area with flowers during the summer and autumn. A 
wreath of poet's narcissus around a fountain, where they peeped 
over the coping as if to see their exquisite reflection in the mirror- 
like pool, has reconciled the most skeptical unbeliever to their use 
in a formal garden. Why, our grandmothers' gardens were 
always filled with them! There were tufts of gay daffodils in the 
corners of the parterres, and lines of them drawn up, as if in 
battle array, behind the boxwood breastworks. Since ever they 
were known they have been beloved. Shakespeare delighted in 
them. There are rabid collectors in England to-day who give 
two thousand dollars or more for the exclusive ownership of a 
new choice variety represented by perhaps a half-dozen bulbs. 

The hardy narcissus and daffodils will grow wherever grass 

264 The American Flower Garden 

will. Some will be planted in out-of-the way corners in early and 
late situations for a succession of bloom to cut for house decoration. 
If skilfully selected and situated, daffodils may have their season 
extended over three months. Any good garden soil pleases them 
well, but they have a preference for deep, air-penetrated earth 
made cool with humus — never with manure — over a pervious 
subsoil where dampness will not remain to rot their roots, and 
where they have partial shade. If there be as much of a tree below 
ground as above it, so there is as much of a plant that we never 
see as there is to delight the eye, and we must not forget the fact 
in October when we drop bulbs into their permanent home. In 
average soil, a bulb will be buried to a depth equal to its circum- 
ference, which would bring a poet's narcissus or a trumpet 
daffodil about four inches below the surface. See that the soil is 
good to at least twice that depth below the bulb. In light, sandy 
soils six inches would be a safer depth to bury it. It is wise to 
plant bulbs deeply in any case, especially in cold climates or 
exposed situations. Their flowers come later than those of the 
shallow-bedded ones, it is true, but they are usually larger and of 
a stouter substance. 

Dumpy, double Hobokenese hyacinths are as often made 
into floral patchwork, perhaps, as the long-suffering tulips. They 
are the stiffest of the bulbous flowers, but they come in some 
exquisitely delicate tints, and the single ones especially are undeni- 
ably lovely. In the garden their fragrance is delicious; in the 
house their heavy sweetness cloys. Within a spaced garden, formal 
hyacinth beds of one or at most two pure, harmonious colours 
are effective, but to cut up a lawn into geometric patterns laid 
on in gaudy colours is a misuse of bulb beauty that displays total 
ignorance of the laws of garden composition. For high-grade 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 265 

bedding, hyacinth bulbs can be used only once, which makes 
them costly. In any case they should be lifted after they have 
ripened and be stored until autumn in a cool cellar. 

In some of our public parks, planted by politicians to please 
the ignorant masses, one sees tulip beds that are amazing — with 
sharply contrasted zones of colour laid on in patterns that are 
about as decorative on a lawn as patches of gay oilcloth. Similar 
beds, intensified by chromo lithography, appear in the catalogues 
and serve as models, alas! for gardeners throughout the length 
and breadth of the land. Let it be remembered that it was the 
gentle Linnaeus who dubbed double flowers "vegetable monsters." 
Among true tulip lovers the double forms, laboriously obtained 
by the hybridiser, find little favour. They have no authority from 
Nature for their abnormalities, whereas every line of the single, 
long-stemmed, pointed-petalled kinds is full of exquisite grace. 
They are the natural forms restored, perfected. Only single tulips 
can ever be fittingly naturalised — tulips whose clear colour, 
pointed petals, and dark spot at their base indicate nearness to the 
beautiful wild type. Gesnerianas may be had for fifteen dollars 
a thousand. The effect of that number of majors, of brilliant, rich 
red blotched with black at the bottom of their cup, is simply superb 
and, when naturalised among the lush May grass, cannot be 
rivalled even by the gorgeous Oriental poppies which sulk under 
such treatment. For naturalising in open woods and half-shaded 
places, try T. sylvestris, a pale yellow, pointed-petalled flower. 

Early flowering tulips commend themselves not only 
because they come at the most ecstatic season of the year, and set the 
garden ablaze with rich colour when fires are still comfortable 
indoors, but because they have finished their show when it is time 
to transplant annuals from the hotbeds to the garden. The bulbs 

266 The American Flower Garden 

may be lifted and replanted in an out-of-the-way corner to mature 
when their place in the beds is wanted for summer bloomers 
like asters and heliotrope. As has been pointed out, the bedding 
system means constant work, which spells expense. It implies 
skilled gardeners if a pyrotechnic display of flowers is to be kept 
up in the same beds of a large garden from frost to frost. Many 
gardeners, however, use companion crops of early tulips and some 
pretty shallow-rooted annual or perennial like forget-me-not in 
alternate rows. Masses of little turquoise-blue flowers overspread 
the withering tulips while the bulbs are ripening undisturbed 

It was a happy day for gardeners when, in 1559, the showy 
late tulip was brought from Persia to Constantinople, from whence 
it was introduced throughout Europe. Innumerable beautiful 
varieties have arisen from the original form. Tulip seed produces 
only self-coloured flowers ; but after seven to ten years of cultivation 
or, rarely, even longer, a wonderful change comes over them. 
Suddenly they assume entirely new colours which may be solid, or 
striped, or flamed, or feathered. Now the tulips are said to be 
rectified. For the most part they are as variegated as Harlequin. 
The pencillings of a flamed tulip extend from the margin of the 
petal to its base; in a feathered tulip the markings do not extend 
so far. However much we may admire the delicate shadings and 
traceries of an individual flower — and each rectified one is a 
special study — the self-coloured ones are more effective for 
massing. Large May tulips are better for hardy borders than the 
small early ones, not only because they are more effective, but 
because they may be left undisturbed in the ground for four or 
five years without deteriorating. And they furnish better cut 
flowers, for their stems are long and strong. 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 267 

When arranging the stiff, upright tulips, daffodils, irises, 
gladioli, and other flowers for that matter, let us learn of the 
Japanese to simulate their natural attitude. Secure a flat ribbon 
of lead less than two inches wide from the plumber, cut it into ten- 
inch lengths, lay one on its edge in the bottom of a bowl and pinch 
the pliable lead around the stems of the flowers with a few leaves 
about them. Or, pebbles may be used to hold them upright. They 
appear to be growing in water. Invisible glass discs, perforated 
to hold flower stems, can be bought to place in the bottom of 
silver, glass or china dishes for the centre of the dining-table. 

Darwins, many of them with stems two feet tall, are an 
aristocratic race of late tulips, mostly self-coloured and with a 
"tender bloom like cold gravy" overspreading and gently sub- 
duing them. They, too, may be left undisturbed for years. 
Bizarres have variegated colours, the markings generally brown or 
red on a yellow ground. Bybloemen tulips have violet or rose 
marking on a white ground. Parrots are wonderfully marked 
and fringed late tulips, with more or less green among their yellow 
or red streaks, and so large that the weak stems cannot hold the 
flowers erect. This is their lamentable defect. But they are 
curious and gorgeous. Never buy bargain lots of mixed tulips. 
Fewer named bulbs of a high grade give far more pleasure and 

In every old-fashioned garden one used to see the fritillary or 
crown imperial erect its tall stem, bearing near the top a graceful 
umbel of red, yellow, or orange bell-shaped flowers with a tuft 
of foliage above them. Quaint old Gerarde praised its "stately 
beautifulness" and accorded it "the first place in the garden of 
delight." Why do we see it now so rarely? It thrives in any 
good light soil and need not be disturbed for years. It is quite 

268 The American Flower Garden 

hardy; it is cheap; it blooms early, coming before the hyacinths 
in April and dying down in summer; its petals drip nectar; it 
wears an air of distinction; what virtue, except fragrance, doth 
it lack? Let us neglect it no longer! The perennial border 
especially needs so richly coloured and decorative a flower that 
blooms early. 

A joyful garden might almost be made from lilies alone. Bulb 
beauty would seem to reach its culmination in them. Only the 
rarest kinds are costly, and large, heavy bulbs of, perhaps, the 
loveliest of them all — the hardy, easily grown white Madonna 
lily (L. candidum) — may be had for less than nine dollars a 
hundred to plant in parallel rows along a formal path or through 
the aisle of a pergola or pleached arbour. Formal treatment best 
suits this stately lily. It makes a delightful companion crop for light- 
blue larkspurs. Its pure white trumpets, shorter than the Easter 
lily's in the hot-house, fill the evening air with fragrance and lend 
a heavenly beauty to the garden by moonlight to refresh the weary 
eyes of the commuter. Let us more often think of him in planting 
our gardens! The superb gold-banded lily of Japan (L. auratum) 
seems really too good to be true. Each tall, stout stem hung with 
lilies of huge size, whose ivory petals have a golden stripe through 
the centre, is surprising; and where dozens rear their heads from 
among the rhododendrons the effect demands strong superlatives 
to express its splendour. Many other lilies may be grown among 
rhododendrons, and laurel and azaleas, too, for the conditions suit 
them perfectly — light, rich, peaty, moist, but well-drained soil in 
partial shade. Unhappily the gold-banded lily bulbs are some- 
times attacked by a fungus disease either when we receive them 
from Japan, or shortly after. Dip them in a weak solution of for- 
maldehyde such as would be prepared for seed potatoes, and sift 


Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 269 

powdered Bordeaux on the soil above their crowns. But the most 
frequent cause of failure with imported lilies is that they come 
from Japan too late to become established before killing frost. 
Many bulbs do not reach us until December. If kept long out 
of the ground, they deteriorate or die. Late comers should be 
packed in sand and stored in a cold cellar until they can be safely 
planted out in spring. Never buy gold-banded or speciosum lilies 
that have been weakened by long exposure in a seedsman's shop. 
Indeed, no time should be lost in getting any bulbs into the ground 
after they leave the grower. 

Beginning with the trout lily — the little yellow, speckled bell 
that nods in the wild garden and bears the misleading popular 
name of dog-tooth "violet" — with Jack-in-the-pulpit and the 
trilliums, white, pink and claret, a lovely pageant of native bulbs 
has already passed before our eyes are dazzled by the midsummer 
splendour of the glowing red wood lily and the tall stems of super- 
bum, hung with perhaps a score of brilliant orange-red turk's caps 
that brighten the marshes. Nature never fails to give the 
flowers in her garden the setting that best displays their charms. 
So must we learn of her. 

Lilies-of-the-valley, beloved by everyone, will carpet warm 
sunny and cold northern spots for early and late bloom — their 
season can thus be prolonged seven weeks in the open; fragrant 
lemon-yellow day lilies will perfume the old-fashioned garden two 
months before the white day lily, with big heart-shaped leaves, 
another old-time favourite, opens its pure chalices to woo with 
their fragrance the night-flying moths; pink and white speciosum 
lilies will rise among the royal ferns in a half-shaded place; and, 
if plants that cannot be killed are wanted, the novice will surely 
have tawny-orange day lilies. Whoever owns any will gladly 

270 The American Flower Garden 

give away a barrelful of roots. With no cultivation whatever they 
thrive prodigiously and will readily choke to death every choice 
thing near them in a garden. But planted along an old stone wall, 
or naturalised along the edge of a copse in a meadow, the lilies, 
that are almost as richly coloured as the butterfly milkweed, rise 
on slender stems above the grasses with splendidly decorative effect. 

After the pansies and early tulips have finished blooming, and 
lovely masses of colour are wanted to fill their beds throughout the 
summer, no plants can equal the tuberous begonias, which, like 
azaleas, reflect all the tints of sunset. Exquisite large waxy flowers 
appear in unwearied succession for months above the clean broad 
leaves. Start the tubers in shallow boxes of leaf-mould or cocoa- 
nut fibre in the hotbed in spring and set them out in rich, moist, 
cool soil where they are shaded from noonday sun. Not a breath 
of frost can they endure. Their tubers should be the first lifted. 

What shall be done with cannas ? They give bold, brilliant 
colour effects which are at once their glory and the despair of anyone 
who tries to reconcile the tropical-looking plants to the vegetation 
in a northern garden. Certainly they shall not be placed in a 
circular bed, with or without "elephants' ears" that so frequently 
accompany them, in the centre of a lawn where they form an 
island, a spot of colour, entirely unrelated to all other planting. 
Shall they intrude among the perennials ? The effect of their big, 
broad leaves there is quite as bad. For a quick-growing screen 
they are admirable, but only if it be a necessary detail in a good 
planting plan; or for an isolated corner where tropical effects 
with bamboo, eulalias, and other tall, decorative grasses are 
wanted. Their rich bronze green or brownish maroon leaves 
are as valuable as their gorgeous flowers, haunted by humming- 
birds that feast in the deep nectar-filled tubes. 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 271 

Gladioli bloom opportunely when the garden needs lighting 
up. Their spikes of brightness especially help the perennial border 
which is wont to look weary at midsummer, before its autumnal 
revivification begins. Large-flowered new strains are a revela- 
tion to one who knows only the old sorts. Since they may be had 
in a great variety of colours, they need never clash with any perma- 
nent plants. Like cannas, elephants' ears, poker plants, tuberous 
begonias and dahlias, they must be lifted in autumn and stored 
in a cellar, but let no one forego growing them on that account. 
They are worth the little trouble they cost if only for cut flowers 
which last over a week in water — a cheerful fact for the busy 

Dahlias may be introduced at the back of the perennial border, 
for they grow tall, require stakes, and do not produce their finest 
flowers until early autumn, and so ought not to be given a con- 
spicuous foreground position anywhere on the grounds. But 
they require deep rich soil, being gross feeders, and will not bear 
crowding or pilfering from surrounding plants. The single kinds 
have the most graceful flowers that are splendidly decorative in 
the garden and that arrange well in vases from which the top- 
heavy, less lovely double kinds are forever falling out. Wonderful 
cactus dahlias can be grown by the merest novice who, if he have 
no other spot, will plant their tubers along the fence of his vegetable 
garden and deny himself a row of cabbages. He must be warned, 
however, that not all the superb dahlias seen at the exhibitions, 
where he learns of the widespread dahlia craze, have garden 
value because of the weakness of their stems. All the strength of 
some of them seems to have been forced into the flowers which 
hide their handsome heads in a mass of leaves. Only the single- 
flowered kinds grow on tall, slender stems, high above their foliage. 

272 The American Flower Garden 

Among yuccas or ornamental grasses the flaming torches of the 
red-hot poker plant flare most effectively. Isolate such a blaze 
of colour if you would get the full value of its glory. Yellow, 
orange, scarlet and coral flame flowers or torch flowers glow with 
lambent fire in late summer and early autumn as if they would 
set the fast-fading garden ablaze. 

One of the joyful possibilities in owning a pond or stream is 
the ability to grow to perfection a variety of beautiful grasses and 
sedges about its edge. The hardy bamboos, eulalia, reeds, 
erianthus, and phalaris, taken from the flower garden, where they 
invariably look out of place, and naturalised on the banks with 
the choicer native grasses, reeds and sedges for congenial com- 
pany, not only hold their own, but their increased vigour is encour- 
aging. The feathery plumes of the Japanese eulalia especially 
become a fresh revelation of grace. Wild rice, which should 
be sown as soon as it ripens, will attract many birds to feast — 
bobolinks, red-winged blackbirds and wild ducks among the 
throng. We are only beginning to realize the delightful uses of 
the hardy bamboos in the background of the perennial border, in 
the water garden, and for those tropical effects with pampas grasses 
and other exotics without which no "head gardener for a first- 
class gentleman" seems to be truly happy. Too long have we 
regarded all the bamboo race as impossible denizens of warmer 
climes. But there are at least a half-dozen hardy ones, among 
them the little pygmy bamboo, for carpeting rock gardens and wild 
places, and a broad-leaved, decorative bamboo {Bambusa Metake), 
the best of all, which grows higher than a man's head. Whoever 
wishes to achieve the effect of a gigantic ribbon grass will grow 
Fortune's bamboo along with the "gardener's garters," a varie- 
gated phalaris, and the striped or barred eulalias from Japan, but 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 273 

one must almost wish he would n't! Freakish foliage is so difficult 
to manage in the making of garden pictures that few, indeed, 
ever use it aright. For lightening too-heavy masses of dark 
foliage, or for running up the colour scale to a high accenting note, 
however, it has too great value to the artistic gardener to be ignored. 
After the flowering grasses and sedges have been cut for winter 
decoration indoors, the astonishing autumn crocuses (Colchicum) 
bloom by Thanksgiving, as if the year, before dying, had entered 
upon a second childhood. 

The Select Among Bulbous and Tuberous Plants 

The flowering period given is that of New York and allowances must be made 
north or south. 

Aconite, Winter (Eranthis hyemalis). Yellow; March; 6 inches. 

Flowers before the leaves, one bloom to a stem. Quite hardy. 

Give half shade in border. Earliest bright yellow flower. 
Anemone (Various species of Anemone'). See Anemone, Windflower, 

etc., pp. 96, 216, 230.) 
Bachelor's Button (Ranunculus Asiaticus, Centaurea and other 

flowers.) See page 57. 
Begonia (Begonia tuberosa). Red, pink, white, yellow and mixed. 

All summer; 6 to 8 inches. Invaluable for summer bedding in 

shaded places. Flowers sometimes 6 inches across. The different 

strains vary greatly in form and colour. Peaty soil preferred. 

Lift tubers in fall and keep free from frost, planting in May, June. 

Bleeding Heart (Dicentra spectabilis). Pink; May, June; 2 feet. 

(See Herbaceous Plants, page 218.) 
Bloodroot (Sanguinaria Canadensis). White, tinged pink. April; 

8 inches high. Appearing first before the leaves. Whole plant 

densely covered with white powder. Transplant late summer or 

spring. Valuable for rockery. 
Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa). Orange, rarely yellow. June, 

September. (See Native Plants, page 89.) 
Canna (Canna Indica hybrids). Red, pinkish, pale yellow, and nearly 

white. July; 2 to 6 feet. August till frost. Flowers in branching 

spikes, above large sheathing leaves. The most tropical looking 

274 The American Flower Garden 

bedding plant for both foliage and flower. Roots tender and must 
be wintered in cellar. Give water in abundance; at home on pond 
edges. Modern varieties have flowers nearly as big as a man's palm. 
Crocus, Autumn (Colchicum autumnale). Purple, pink, white. Indi- 
vidual flower 4 inches across. September; 3 to 4 inches high. 
Plant in August. Divide in July, and do not disturb until crowded. 
(C. Parkinsoni.) Veins outlined in purple, giving checker-like 

effect. , Cloth-of-Gold (Crocus Susianus). Yellow. , 

Scotch (C. bifiorus). White striped lilac. , Imperati (C. 

Imperati). Purplish blue. , Dutch (C. Meesiacus). , 

Common (C. vernus). Varieties, white, lilac, purple; All 3 to 5 
inches. The largest individual flowers and most effective of the 
dwarf spring bulbs. Of equally easy culture. Perfectly hardy. If 
planted in lawn, foliage must be allowed to mature before grass is 
cut. March. Best named varieties of the common crocus are Snow 
Queen, Queen of Purples, and Bleu Celeste. 

Crown Imperial (Fritillaria impertalis). Brownish red. April. (See 
Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 58.) 

Daffodil. See Narcissus. 

Dahlia (Dahlia variabilis). All colours but blue and true scarlet; 
August, October; 2 to 6 feet. Easily raised from seed, flowering 
first year. Tops cut by first frost. Most important tuberous rooted 
plant and most effective of all the tall growing kinds for late flowers. 
Has most brilliant flowers and a greater variety of them, combined 
with greater diversity and form, than any other one group of plants. 
All the varieties in cultivation are forms of the one species. Plant 
the tubers in any good garden soil after danger of frost is past and 
give cultivation same as potatoes. Lift roots in November after 
tops have been cut off by first frost and store in sand or ashes in 
frost-proof cellar. It is best to divide old roots when replanting. 
Dahlias are classified according to the form and colour, as follows: 
Show, regularly quilled rays, self-coloured or lighter at the base. 
Fancy, regularly quilled rays darker at the base. Cactus, petals 
variously twisted and revolute, all colours. Decorative, a modern 
intermediate group with broad and flat petals, but generally useful 
for cutting. Single, daisy-like flowers with conspicuous disc and an 
outer rim and row of florets. Peony-flowered, most modern, irregu- 
larly formed sort of semi-double decorative type. Very large. The 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 275 

Pompon group includes miniatures of the Show and Fancy and 
Single types. New Century, very large single flowers with rich 
colourings. Collerette, single or semi-double, with broad outer ray 
of florets and a row of tubular inner florets surrounding the disc. 
Not much esteemed. Examples in each case are: Frank Smith, 
maroon tipped white, fancy. Stanley, golden yellow, show. 
Katherine Duer, iridescent scarlet, decorative. William Agnew, 
carmine-red, decorative. Aegir, cardinal-red, much twisted, cactus. 
Mary Service, apricot shaded orange, cactus. Strahlen Krone, deep 
cardinal-red, cactus. Perle de la Tete d'Or, white, cactus. Twenti- 
eth Century and its varieties in various colours are best among the 
singles. Of the Pompons: Darkness, tipped velvety maroon; Snow- 
clad, the finest white; Little Bessy, creamy white, quilled, are typical. 
Dog's Tooth Violet (Erythronium Americanurri). Yellow. April, 
May; 10 inches. (See Native Plants, p. 90.) 

Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullarid). Greenish white, tinged 

rose; 8 inches. (See Native Plants, p. 90.) 
Elephant's Ear (Caladium esculenturri). Massive foliage heart-shaped, 

l\ feet long. Corm is not hardy, but winters indoors if kept dry. 

Most massive subtropical foliage plant for summer bedding. Any 


Flame Flower. See Red-Hot Poker. 

Gladiolus (G. Gandavensis and other hybrids, as Childsii, Lemoinei, 

Nanceianus, Groff, etc.). Pink, red, white, yellow and mixtures. 

July, September; 3 feet. In one-sided spikes. Extremely varied. 

Most showy summer bulbs. Lift after frost and store dry. 

Glory-of-the-Snow (Chionodoxa Lucilta). Sky-blue. March; 6 to 9 

inches. White eye. (C. Sardensis). Dark blue. (C. Lu- 

ciliec, var. grandiflora). Larger and later. Largest blue flowers 
of early spring. Give sun. 

Ground Nut (Apios tuberosd). Chocolate brown. July, August; 
4 to 8 feet. Climbing. Flowers in dense short racemes. Any light 
soil in sun. Becomes a weed in rockeries. 

Guinea Hen Flower. See Lily, Checkered. 

Hyacinth, Bedding (Hyacinthus orientalis). Blue, red, white, prim- 
rose, single and double in various shades. Buy new bulbs each year 
for best results. Plant in solid colours. 12 to 18 inches. After 

276 The American Flower Garden 

flowering lift in May. Offsets will take three or four years to develop. 
Dense spikes of bloom, giving stiff formal effect. Most fragrant of 
the spring bulbs. Many named varieties. Among the best are: 
Fabiola, single pink; Gertrude, single, dark rose; La Grandesse, 
single, white; Grandeur a Merveille, pale, blush-white, single; 
La Peyrouse, single, light blue; King of the Blues, single, dark blue; 
King of the Yellows, single, yellow. Of the doubles : Lord Welling- 
ton, red; Prince of Waterloo, white; Charles Dickens, blue. Roman 
Hyacinths are minatures of the foregoing and sold merely by colour. 

, Cape (Galtonia candicans). August; 3 to 5 feet. Bell-shaped 

flowers 1 inch long. In loose spike. Give slight protection in 

light rich soil in sun or half shade. Fragrant. , Grape (Mus- 

cari botryoides). April; 4 to 6 inches. Blue, white. Small bell- 
like flowers in dense spike i\ inches long. Best variety, Heav- 
enly Blue. Much larger. , Wood (Scilla festalis): Blue, 

white. Rarely pink. May; 1 foot. Looser and fewer flowered 
than the bedding hyacinth, but otherwise much like it. Naturalise 
in woodlands. 

Iris {Various). See Herbaceous Plants, p. 223. 

Ixia {Various Species and Hybrids). White, yellow, purple, ruby, 
blue, green, in lax panicles. Usually with black eye. Similar to 
sparaxis. Numerous named varieties. Give protection over winter, 
uncovering in April. Plant November. Lift in July, and dry off. 
The greatest range of colour of any bulb. 

Jack-in-the-Pulpit. See Native Plants, p. 92. 

Jonquil (Narcissus Jonquilla). Rich yellow. Very fragrant. Leaves 
round, rush-like. One flowered. May. Often confused with 
N. odorus, which has larger waved crown. 


African Blue (A gapanthus, umbellatus). Blue, in umbels on long 

stalks. June; 2 to 3 feet. Resembling Clivia in all but colour. 

Nearly tender piazza plant. Dormant in winter; take into 

cellar. Water abundantly when flowering. Best in large tub. 

Apt to break pots. 
Autumn Pink (Lilium speciosum). Pink, red, white. August; 

2 to 3 feet. For permanent planting. Best in warm, sheltered 

shrubbery or beds. The favourite, L. rubrum, is a form of this. 

Flowers 6 inches across. Flatly expanded. Perfectly hardy. 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 277 

Belladonna (Amaryllis Belladonna). Deep chalice form. Rose 
colour, varying to white and red; 2 to 4 feet. May. Tender, 
needing protection in winter, not easy to manage. 

Blackberry (Belemcanda Chinensis). Orange, spotted red. June; 
2 to 3 feet. (See Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 61.) 

Canada (Lilium Canadense). Chalice formed, 3 to 4 inches long. 
Yellow to yellowish red. July. Moist clay or sandy soil. 

Checkered, Guinea Hen Flower, Snake's Head (Fritillaria 
Meleagris). May. (See Old-Fashioned Flowers, Fritillary, 
p. 59.) Likes cool, alluvial meadow land and shelter. 

Coral (Lilium tenuifolium). Scarlet, turban-like flower; inch across; 
12 to 18 inches high; with slender foliage. Grow from seed. 

Day (Funkia and Hemerocallis). See Old-Fashioned Flowers, 

pp. 58, 63. (Tigridia Pavonia). Bright scarlet, to yellow, 

crimson, and white; 4 to 6 inches across. Flowers last one 
day, but are produced for two or three months. Plant in early 
spring, lifting the bulbs after frost and storing in dry cellar. 

Foliage ribbed, narrow. , Dwarf Orange (Hemerocallis 

Dumortier'i). Orange. June; 1 foot. Purer colour, earlier and 
more refined than the common orange day lily which is excellent 
for naturalising. Hardy in extreme North. Plant spring or fall. 

Giant Indian (Eremurus robustui). Light pinkish lilac. May, 
June; 8 feet. Individual flowers one inch across, in dense 
long spike. Very distinct. Large roots must not be moved. 
Mulch over winter. Several other species, differing but slightly. 

Gold Banded (Lilium auratum). The most showy and largest 
flowered of the real lilies. Often a foot across. August; 4 feet. 
Pale yellow with golden centre band and crimson spots. Hardy, 
but appears to fail after a few years. Plant fall and spring. 

Henry's (Lilium Henryi). July, 4 to 6 feet. Resembles L. 
speciosum, but is entirely cinnabar yellow. Very hardy and 
increases rapidly. Strong flower. 

Jacobaean (Sprekelia formosissimd). Red. 1 to 2 feet high. A 
solitary flower 6 inches long. Grown like an amaryllis, which 
it resembles. Half hardy. 

Japan (Lilium elegans) July; 1 to 2 feet. Yellow, orange, red. 
Cup-shaped flower 5 to 6 inches across. Plant in full sunshine, 
6 to 8 inches deep. The best of all the upright lilies. 

278 The American Flower Garden 

Madonna (Lilium candidum). White. May, June. Plant in 

August. (See Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 61.) 
Neapolitan {Allium Neapolitanum). White. July; 3 to 18 inches. 
Needs protection. The most ornamental of the onions. Not 
pungent. Flowers in a dense umbel, each about J inch across. 
Good for cutting. 
Powell's Cape (Crinum Powelli). Pink. September; 3 to 4 feet. 
Largest-flowered autumn-blooming bulb. Hardy at New York 
if well covered in winter. Plant 8 inches deep. 
Red (LiliumPhiladelphicum). Red-orange, dark spotted with brown- 
purple. June, July; 1 to 2 feet. Any well-drained soil, sun or 
shade. Flower cup-shaped, erect. 
Scarlet Martagon (Lilium Chalcedonicum). 3 to 4 feet. Nodding 
bright red flowers, unspotted. Sometimes yellow. One of the 
prettiest of small flowered lilies. Should become quite popular. 
Tiger (Lilium tigrinum). Pale brick-red, dark spotted; August ; 
2 to 5 feet. Individual flower 6 inches. Easiest to grow of all 
lilies. Somewhat stiff and coarse looking, but a favourite in 
old-time gardens. 
Turk's Cap (Lilium superbum). 4 to 8 feet. Orange and orange- 
yellow. This is the best lily for gardens, but a great feeder and 
wants good moist soil 2 to 4 feet deep. Flowers turban-like, 2 
inches across; numerous. 
Lily-of-the-Valley (Convallaria majalis). White. May, June; 6 to 8 
inches. Under shade of trees and along rich, partially shaded 
borders. Flowers are nodding bells borne along a stalk. Fragrant. 
Mexican Coral Drops (Bessera elegans). Vermillion and white; 1 to 2 
feet. Late summer. Very effective summer flowering bulb, some- 
times throwing 6 to 10 scapes with 20 pendulous flowers in an umbel, 
cup-shaped. Plant in spring and lift when ripe. 
Milla (Milla biflora). White, waxy; 6 to 18 inches high. Fragrant; 
%\ inches across. Plant in early spring. Lift September and Octo- 
ber and store over winter. Flat star-like flower. 
Montbretia. See Tritonia. 

The poeticus, and polyanthus (Tazetta) narcissus, the jonquil, and 
the large trumpet daffodil are varieties of different species in the one 
botancial genus Narcissus. The family is divided into three big 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 279 

groups, called respectively, (a) Magni-coronati or large trumpet; 
(b) Medii-coronati or cup daffodil; (c) Parvi-coronati or saucer daffo- 
dil. The varieties of groups a and b are commonly known as daffodils, 
while those of group c are commonly known as narcissus, including 
of course the poet's and polyanthus groups. Group b, the Incompar- 
abilis section, is' composed essentially, and perhaps entirely, of 
hybrids between different species and varieties of groups a and c, 
and embraces every degree of difference between the two extremes. 
The large trumpet daffodils are varieties of N. Pseudo-Narcissus. 
The polyanthus narcissi (including the Paper White, Double 
Roman, etc.) are varieties of N. Tazetta. The Poet's Narcissus 
includes all the varieties of the species N. poeticus; the jonquil is a 
species known as N. Jonquilla, and differs from the recognised 
daffodils in having cluster flowers, and from the polyanthus narcissus 
in having rushlike leaves instead of flat; it is very fragrant and the 
flowers are of a very deep yellow colour. Selected varieties in each 
section or group follows: 

All-Yellow Trumpets. Early: Ard Righ, large, does best in 
partial shade; Early Bird, has been had in flower in the open 
April 12th; Golden Spur, free, good for cutting. Midseason: 
Emperor, fine flower of much substance: Maximus, shy bloomer 
but of superb colour. Late: Glory of Leiden, the biggest and 
most lasting flower. 

All- White Winged, or Bicolors. Early: Victoria, very large 
and of lasting substance. Midseason: Empress, large and fine, 
rich yellow trumpet; Horsfieldi, earlier than Empress; very 
handsome but is becoming diseased. Late: Madame Plemp; 
a large, bold flower; Grandee, for succession, dwarf, but free 

All- White Trumpets. Early: Cernuus albicans; a very graceful 
"Swan's Neck"; Mrs. Thompson, strong, free flowering and 
large; Princess Ida, small, but curiously edged with yellow at 
the mouth. Midseason: William Goldring, with perianth over- 
hanging the trumpet. Late: Madame de Graaff, most beauti- 
ful and largest. 

Lesser Long-Crowned Daffodils. Johnstoni, a good natural- 
iser, thin, graceful flowers yellow. Cyclamineus, little yellow 

280 The American Flower Garden 

cyclamen-like flowers three inches long. Bulbocodium, houp 
petticoat-shaped flowers of white or yellow. Pretty in pots, or 
in rock work. Humei, Hume's (Dog-eared daffodils), small 
trumpet, with overhanging perianth like dog's ears. The 
tridymus group, a series of few hardy cluster flowered daffodils. 
Incomparabilis Varieties. Early: Sir Watkin, large and hand- 
some, very free, full yellow. Midseason: Autocrat, every 
flower as perfectly formed as if cut with a die; full yellow; 
Stella Superba, white perianth and yellow cup; handsome as 
cut flower. Late: Beauty, large, handsome, yellow star-like 
flowers, crown edged orange-red; Gloria Mundi, large flower, 
cup heavily margined with red; the Barrii group, having 
trumpet edged with scarlet as : Conspicuus, large yellow flower, 
red edged crown; Flora Wilson, white perianth, yellow crown 
edged white; Sensation, white perianth, canary crown edged red. 
Especially suitable for naturalising and cutting are the varieties 
of the Leedsii group, all having white petals, etc. : Duchess of 
Westminster, large and beautiful; Katherine Spurrel, hooded, 
white perianth, cup canary yellow; Mary Magdalen De Graaff, 
broad, spreading, white perianth, cream crown, suffused terra 
cotta; Mrs. Langtry, pale creamy yellow, remarkably free flow- 
ering, and excellent for cutting. 

£hort-Crowned or Saucer Daffodils. Midseason: Burbidgei 
Baroness Heath, yellow, orange-red cup; Crown Princess, cream- 
white, light yellow cup edged orange. Late: Sequin, glistening 
white, flat golden cup; Ornatus (midseason) and King 
Edward VII. are the two best varieties of fragrant, white poet's 

Double Daffodils. Most important is Telamonius plenus, popu- 
larly known as Van Sion. Others are: Cernuus plenus, double 
form of white Swan's Neck; Capax plenus, "Queen Ann's 
double daffodil"; Sulphur Phoenix, popularly known as "cod- 
lins and cream," rose-like flowers, interspersed petals of pale 
and golden yellow; Double Campernelle, grows 2 feet high, two 
to six flowers to stem, strong bulb throwing up two to six stems. 
Deep golden yellow, fragrant. 
Peony, Early (Pceonia officinalis). May, June; 3 feet. Crimson. 

Best planted in September. (See Old-Fashioned Flowers, p. 62.) 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 281 

Quamash (Camassia esculentd). Blue, purple, whitish. May; 2 feet. 
In loose spike. Flowers star-like, 10 to 40. Perfectly hardy. Bulb 
used as food by the Indians. 

Red-Hot Poker (Kniphofia Pfitzeri). Scarlet, orange. Early 
August to October; 3 to 4 feet. This is probably the most 
gorgeous of all the varieties. Foot-long cones of bright 
orange-scarlet tubular flowers, one hundred or more each, sur- 
mounting an erect stalk 4 to 5 feet. Hardy south of New 
Jersey, needs protection in Philadelphia, but must be lifted in 
the North. Give warm, well-drained place with dark back- 
ground for the best effects. Other named varieties range from 
yellow to brick-red. One of the most startlingly effective plants. 
Leaves three feet long, narrow and grass-like. Often catalogued 
as Tritoma. 

Snake's Head. See Lily, Checkered. 

Snowdrop, Common (Galanthus nivalis). White. Earliest reliable 
spring flowers; 3 to 4 inches. For cold sheltered places as well as 
open. , Giant (G. Elwesii). Var. JVhittallii is best. 

Snow Flake (Leucojum vernum and cestivum). White; 1 foot. Like 
large snowdrops; vernum flowers in March; cestivum in April and 
May. Good border plants. 

Squill, Two-leaved (Scilla bifolid). Purplish blue. 4 to 6 inches. 
A week later than Siberian Squill but more reliable; Var. Taurica 

has 10 to 20 flowers , Siberian (S. Sibiricd), dark blue. Best 

true blue early bulb. March; 3 to 6 inches. For lawns, shrubberies. 

Star of Bethlehem (Ornithogalum umbellatuni). White with green 
veins and black centre. May; 1 foot. Escaped from old gardens. 
Flowers in loose panicles. Excellent for naturalising. 

Trillium See Wood-Lily or Wakerobin in Native Plants, p. 96. 

Tritonia, Montbretia (T. Pottsi). Yellow, tinged red. T. crocosmce- 
flora, orange-crimson; Lax spikes, star-like flowers. August, 
September; 1 to 2 feet. Hardy in well-drained but moist soil. 

Tritonia. See Red-Hot Poker (above). 

Tuberose (Polianthes tuberosd). White. Very fragrant, August, 
September; 2^ to 3 feet. In foot long spike carried on end of erect 
stalk. Arching grass-like foliage. Plant in warm soil in early 
summer. Double variety preferred. 

282 The American Flower Garden 

Tulip, Bedding (Tulipa suaveolens). Great range of colours except 
blue. April; 12 to 16 inches. Buy new bulbs annually for best 
flowers. Old ones may be lifted and planted in the border. 
These are the most gorgeous of the* spring bulbs. Young tulips 
raised from seed are called "seedlings" until they have 
bloomed. When they first flower they are called "breeders." 
These flowers are invariably of one colour throughout, although the 
seed may have been saved from variegated blossoms. After some 
years the petals of these hitherto self flowers become striped, and 
they are then said to " break," or " rectify. " If the stripings are 
clearly marked and of good pure colours, the flowers are spoken of as 
having a "good strain." A "rectified tulip" is synonymous with a 
tulip having a good strain. These rectified flowers are divided into 
three classes: bizarres, bybloemens, and roses. The "bizarre" tulip 
has a yellow ground with shades of orange, brown, scarlet and crim- 
son. The "byblcemen" has a white ground, marked with black, 
brown, lilac, lavender, etc. The "rose" has a white ground, varie- 
gated with shades of crimson, pink, scarlet, cerise. The various 
classes of rectified tulips have the petals either feathered or flamed. A 
"feathered" tulip has a dark coloured edge, gradually becoming 
lighter toward the centre of the petal. A "flamed" flower has a 
beam of colour running up the centre of the petal. 
Early Singles in Scarlet and Crimson: Brutus, the earliest, 
very bright, with a very slight yellow feather on the edges; grows 
8 inches high. Artus, brilliant dark scarlet, a few days later 
than Brutus. Grows 8 to 10 inches high. Belle Alliance, the 
best bright scarlet in the early flowering section. Grows about 
10 inches high. The flower lasts well. Couleur Cardinal, 
rich, dark red, with a bright crimson edge, a little later than the 
foregoing varieties. An excellent tulip of rigid habit. Grows 
10 to 12 inches high. Thomas Moore, rich orange-scarlet. 
Grows 12 to 15 inches high; sweet-scented. Keiserskroon, 
vivid red, with a broad deep yellow margin. Grows 15 inches 
high, lasts well. An excellent tulip in every respect. 
Pink Flowered Early Singles: Rose Grisdelin, the dwarfest and 
best bright pink bedding tulip. Grows only 6 inches high. 
Early Yellow Singles: Chrysolora, the best early yellow bedder. 
A large and beautiful flower. Grows 10 inches high. Canary 
Bird, clear yellow. Grows 10 inches high; very early. Potte- 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 283 

bakker, pure yellow. Grows 12 inches high. A well-known 
large flower. Yellow Prince, rich golden yellow, large and 
sweet scented. Grows 12 inches high; very early. MonTresor 
grows 10 to 12 inches high, large flower. 

May-flowering or Cottage Tulips (T. Gesneriana type). Most 
popular for the average garden, coming into flower from one to 
two weeks later than the early varieties. As cut flowers they are 
superior, lasting a week or more in water. Free and graceful 
habit, 18 to 24 inches high, bearing flowers of brilliant colourings 
on long, strong stems. They can be used with great effect in 
both borders and beds, either in solid colours or in combinations. 
Among the best of this section are: Giant Gesneriana, dazzling 
crimson-scarlet, with metallic blue-black centre. Grows 2 
feet high. The showiest, tallest, and largest flowered of all 
tulips. Golden Eagle, deep yellow, similar, except in colour, to 
Giant Gesneriana. Bouton d'Or, deep, rich golden yellow, 
with dark centre. A small flower, but very effective; considered 
by many to be the finest yellow tulip. Nigrette (the black 
tulip), jet-black in colour, resembling in form Bouton d'Or. 
Shandon Bells, when opening the flowers are a delicate primrose 
flushed with pink, changing as they age to rosy carmine. 
Maiden Blush, or Picotee, beautiful white flower, the edges 
changing to clear pink. Very dainty in effect, and long lasting. 
Florentina, a very small bulb that bears one or two large, 
handsome yellow flowers on each stalk. 

White Single Early: Pottebakker White, the best early white 
bedding tulip. Grows 10 to 12 inches high. White Hawk, a 
beautiful large pure white. Grows 10 to 12 inches high. La 
Reine, white, slightly tinted pink; 10 to 12 inches high. Excel- 
lent form; lasts well. L'Immaculee, one of the dwarfest and 
earliest of pure white tulips Grows 6 inches high. 

Mixed Colours: Tournesol, red, with narrow edge of yellow. 
Grows 8 inches high. Titian, red bordered yellow, similar to 
Tournesol, but with larger yellow margin. Mariage de ma 
Fille, crimson and white, flaked and finely striped. Grows 
12 inches high. Late. 

Double Flowering: Equal to most of the singles in brilliancy, but 
are more lasting. The later flowering varieties are very effective 

284 The American Flower Garden 

in beds and borders. The following are the best: Couronne 
d'Or, the best double yellow bedding tulip. Grows 10 inches 
high. Yellow Rose, a beautiful yellow, growing same height as 
Couronne d'Or; later and more fragrant. Tournesol Yellow, 
shaded with orange. Grows 8 inches high. Rex Rubrorum, 
similar in height and colour to Imperator Rubrorum, but 
flowers earlier. The best double scarlet. La Candeur, the best 
pure white double tulip. Grows 8 inches high, and when planted 
in combination with Imperator Rubrorum is very effective. 
Rose Blanche, pure white. Grows 8 inches high. Excellent for 
bedding. Earlier than La Candeur. Salvator Rose, deep rosy 
pink. Grows 7 inches high. Early. Murillo, the best light 
pink; long lasting. Grows only 6 inches high. 

Darwin (T. Gesneriana, etc., in garden hybrids). Breeder tulips, 
of vigorous growth, usually reaching more than two feet high. 
The many varieties cover a great range of self or solid 
coloured, finely formed flowers in the following shades: slate, 
heliotrope, mahogany, claret, cherry. They are especially 
desirable for the hardy border, and bloom late in May. Sold 
in mixtures. Naturalised in borders. 

Due Van Thol (T. suaveoiens). The varieties of this group form 
a distinct class of themselves. They come in scarlet, red and 
yellow, yellow, crimson, rose and white. They are grown 
because they are among the earliest to flower: the different 
colours come into bloom simultaneously, and the plants grow 
to the same height, 7 to 8 inches only. There are also double 
yellow and double scarlet forms. Sold by colour. 

Dragon or Parrot (T. Gesneriana, var. dracontia). Late flower- 
ing; petals irregularly cut, and fringed in a variety of colours. 
They have a striking and showy effect in borders, where they 
propagate freely if left to come up year after year. Constanti- 
nople, red, striped orange, with black markings. Lutea, clear 
yellow, feathered with red and green; very large. Rubra 
Major, bright crimson, large flower, very rich in effect. Mark- 
grave of Baden, yellow, framed with scarlet; very showy flower. 
Carmoise Brilliant, brilliant carmine. 

Greig's (Tulipa Greigi). A vigorous growing tulip, attaining a 
height of. 15 inches. The foliage is broad and green and 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 285 

heavily spotted with brown; flower goblet shaped, orange- 
scarlet, from 4 to 6 inches in diameter. 

Late (^Varieties of Tulipa Gesnenana). 

Mariposa (Calochortus luteus, venustus, Nuttalii, etc). Three large 
petals and three smaller ones. The Mariposas have upright 
flowers like tulips. The star tulips, C. albus and others, have 
drooping flowers. All require partial shade. Will stand cold 
but not alternating freezing and thawing. Plant in fall in light 
loam with light drainage material added. 
Wakerobin. See Wood-Lily, Native Plants, p. 96. 
Wand Flowers (Sparaxis tricolor). Purplish, with yellow throat, 

variable; 1 foot. Few flowered lax spikes. August, September. 

Very graceful. Rarely seen. Treat like Tritonia. 

Watsonia (W. iridifolia). Pinkish. Resembling gladiolus. July, Sep- 
tember; 3 to 4 feet. W. Ardernei, white, of the trade is W. iridifolia 
var. O'Brienii. 

Wood Sorrel (Oxalis Acetoselld). White, veined rosy. Summer; 8 
inches. Flowers and leaves close at night. Rich, well-drained loam. 
A . Boweii, bright rose-red is much more showy. 

Yellow Star-Flower (Sternbergia luted). Yellow. September; 4 to 6 
inches. Only yellow autumn blooming bulb worth growing. 
Plant four inches deep in stiff" soil where sun strikes in summer. 
Give dry mulch over winter. 

The Best Ornamental Grasses 

All the plants marked (*) are also recommended for planting in situations near to 01 
surrounding the water garden. 

*Bamboo (Various species of Bambusa, Arundinaria and Phyllostachys, 
but generally called bamboos in the trade.) There are seven 
bamboos worth growing, and that are hardy in the North. They 
are among the most beautiful and dignified of the grasses. They 
require careful nursing and protection for the first few years. 

, Broad-leaved (A. Japonica, or B. Metake). Best of all; 

largest and broadest leaved of the tall kinds; 6 to 10 feet. The 

large leaf sheaths almost cover the stem. , Black, (P. nigra). 

Stems become black in the second year; 10 to 20 feet high. This 
plant is the one from which bamboo furniture is made. Var. 

286 The American Flower Garden 

punctata has yellow stems with black spots. , Golden Stemmed 

(P. aurea). 10 to 15 feet. , Riviere's (P. viridi-glaucescens), 10 to 

1 8 feet. Very hardy ; the most commonly grown. Peculiar zig-zag 

habit of growth. Simon's (A. Simoni). Tallest; 10 to 20 feet in 

the North. Starts growth late in the season. Thin out the weaker 
shoots. Leaves an inch wide, 1 foot long, tapering to a fine point. 

, Yigmy (B . pygmced). Valuable for rockery, but spreads rapidly and 

may become a nuisance in a border. , Fortune's {A. Fortunei). 

The only hardy variegated kind, and an old favorite; 3 to 4 feet high. 
Foliage striped with white. Give deep, rich, well-drained situation, 
with plenty of moisture, with protection from prevailing winter 
winds. Mulch for the first few years. 

*Blue Fescue (Festuca glaucd). Deep, silvery blue, in tufts. Flourishes 
in moderate shade. 6 to 12 inches. Worth growing for its colour. 

*Canary Grass, Ribbon Grass (Phalaris arundinacea). With 
whitish drooping spike-like panicles. Leaves narrow. 5 to 6 
feet. For wild effects, spreading very freely by underground 
shoots. The variegated form (var. variegata) is the common ribbon 
grass. Leaves longitudinally striped with white. Grow in a sunken 
drain tile to prevent spreading. 

*Eulalia (Miscanthus Sinensis). The prettiest lawn specimen grass; 
4 to 9 feet. Long, narrow leaves, drooping most gracefully. Old 
clumps may be 5 or 6 feet through. (var. variegatus). Longi- 
tudinally striped yellow. , Zebra Grass (var. Zebrinus). Banded 

yellow, not quite hardy. , Japanese Rush (var. gracillimus). 

Very narrow leaves; \ inch. Exceedingly effective for small gardens. 

*Pampas Grass (Gynerium argentea). The most beautiful of the taller 
grasses. Foliage long, narrow, drooping; 8 to 10 feet. Not hardy 
in extreme North, but may be wintered with slight covering. Beau- 
tiful white silken plumes in the fall, but in some varieties varying to 
carmine, violet and purple. Give light, rich soil, with moderate 
moisture. Will flower in two years from seed. 

*Pennisetum (Pennisetum villosum). Best dwarf grass. Valuable for 
edging; 1 to 2 feet. Leaves long, narrow, drooping. Not hardy, 
but may be raised annually from seed sown February or March. 
Old plants may be dug and stored away from frost. Flowers in 

feathery, brownish spikes, 2 to 4 inches long. , (P. Ruppellit) . 

More graceful, but slightly taller, with longer spikes. 

Bulbs, Tuberous Plants and Grasses 287 

*Ravenna Grass (Eriathus Ravenna:). Ranks next to the great reed 
in beauty. 4 to 7 feet. For single specimens. Narrow leaves, 
gracefully arching. Plumes resemble pampas grass, but smaller. 
Prefers sunny situation, and is excellent for aquatic effects. Plumes 
first year from seed sown February or March. 

*Reed, Great (Arundo Donax). 8 to 15 feet. Somewhat resembling 
a glorified corn plant. Broad leaves. Light green. Makes a huge 
clump when established. Var. variegatus, with yellow variegations, 
4J feet. Var. macrophylla, less hardy. Has glaucous blue foliage, 
very effective. These are the tallest and most stately of all the 

Rush, Japanese. See Eulalia. 

*Ribbon Grass. See Canary Grass. 

*Spike Grass (JJniola latifolia). A native grass, worth growing in the 
gardens. Flowers in July. 2 to 4 feet. Spikelets large and thin, 
drooping when ripe, when it is most effective. Useful for winter 

Zebra Grass. See Eulalia. 


"A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot! 
Rose plot, 

Fringed pool, 
Fern'd grot — 

The veriest school 
Of peace; and yet the fool 

Contends that God is not — 
Not God! in gardens! when the eve is cool? 
Nay, but I have a sign; 
'Tis very sure God walks in mine." 

— Thomas Edward Brown. 



NOT every one who loves roses and fain would grow a few 
has a garden for them exclusively, nor even any plot of 
ground that might properly be termed a garden at all. 
Happily, some roses will grow almost anywhere, and one need not 
put trust in riches to secure them, for, beyond all other flowers, 
the rose rewards her devoted, faithful lovers, however humble, 
rather than the indifferent spendthrift, with her smiles. "He who 
would have beautiful roses," wrote Dean Hole — than whom who 
should speak with greater authority ? — "must love them well and 
always. To win he must woo, as Jacob wooed Laban's daughter, 
though drought and frost consume. He must have not only the 
glowing admiration, the enthusiasm, and the passion, but the 
thoughtfulness, the reverence, the watchfulness of love. With no 
ephemeral caprice, like the fair young knight's who loves and 
who rides away when his sudden fire is gone from the cold white 
ashes, the cavalier of the rose has Semper fidelis upon his crest 
and shield." Which is a pretty way of saying that a devoted 
cottager may easily have more beautiful roses than the indifferent 
millionaire. Indeed, many of the most wonderful roses exhibited 
at the shows in English cities are grown by workingmen. The 
head-waiter in a famous London hotel grows roses in his suburban 
dooryard that would put to the blush the best products of many 
American money kings, whose vaunted executive ability relegates 
to unimpassioned eye-servers the complete control of their gardens. 

It is granted at the outset that a cool, moist climate is the principal 


292 The American Flower Garden 

factor of success with roses across the sea, but by a selection of 
varieties adapted to our hotter and colder and drier climate, and 
by a more intelligent care of them, we, too, may have roses of 
surpassing loveliness. 

Ideals change from generation to generation, even in rose 
culture. We all know some old-fashioned rosarian who cuts for 
only a brief season hundreds of roses a day — mostly deep pink 
ones, shaped like cabbages and with finger-length stems lest a 
bud be sacrificed — which he conscientiously distributes among 
surfeited, embarrassed neighbours, and sends to the nearest hospital 
where the patients risk an epidemic of rose cold every June. Then 
the meteoric shower of his roses ends for a year. If we were now 
obliged to grow bushes for eleven months to secure roses in the 
twelfth only, and then to have a surfeit of riches that would enslave 
us until their prodigality suddenly ceased, rose culture would 
have little foundation in reason, and would be confined to the 
ultra-enthusiasts popularly called cranks. Comparatively few 
devotees are now content to expend all their energies upon the 
hybrid " perpetuals " (woefully miscalled) that were once almost 
exclusively grown. Looking to the Orient as well as to Europe 
for our roses, the present-day amateur is satisfied with nothing 
less than roses every day from May until November under the 
open sky in the latitude of New York, and for a longer season 
south of it. Since 1893, when the Wichuraiana rose was intro- 
duced from Japan by Mr. Jackson Dawson, of the Arnold Arbore- 
tum, since the Japanese rugosa rose came to bless us, and vigor- 
ous constitutions and floriferous character were supplied to the 
crosses with perpetual and tea stock, our gardens have been won- 
drously enriched. Too long we looked to Europe exclusively 
for roses, as we did for evergreens and much other garden material 

The Rose Garden 293 

quite unsuited to our climate. The present ideal is to girdle the 
year with roses as nearly as may be, to cut them every day from 
frost to frost, from vines on trellises, porches, pergolas, arches, 
fences, walls and trees; from banks and rocks cascaded with 
them, from hedges of rugosa and sweetbrier, from shrubbery 
roses naturalised along paths and drives, from the wild garden 
or the formal one, from any nook or corner that one may adorn 
with a rose. 

Before the May tulips have extinguished their flames, the 
hardy, clean-leaved vermin-proof rugosas open and fill the air 
with the true rose odour. No taint of the steamy hothouse, reek- 
ing with tobacco fumes, such as the florist's winter roses have had, 
pollutes the pure, perfect perfume of these open-air flowers. There 
are single white rugosas and half-double ones which, like lovely 
Blanc Double de Coubert, bloom lavishly in May, intermittently 
through the summer and autumn, and in winter enliven the garden 
with their great red hips, which are almost as decorative as flowers. 
There are light-pink rugosas, too, and — admit it I must — 
deep-dyed, villainous magenta ones, that swear at almost every 
colour in the garden, but at none so violently as at their own seed 
vessels, for Nature, at least this once, surely has lost her colour 
sense. No apologist can reconcile reddish purple flowers and 
orange-red hips on the same bush. Even close by the sea, rugosas 
will thrive. For informal, undipped hedges — they resent severe 
pruning, and only the oldest, bark-bound canes should be removed 
— for naturalising on banks, and along drives, where hybrids 
of the half-upright R. setigera make a most lovely effect in July, 
for longish plantations in the foreground of boundary belts of trees 
and shrubbery about a place, and for filling in considerable areas 
inexpensively, there are no roses to equal rugosas; but they make 

294 The American Flower Garden 

too many suckers for admission within the trimly kept rose garden. 
Some people reject the flowers for indoor decoration. Although 
the fragile petals of the single roses fall after a day, buds open 
continuously in water, just as our native wild rosebuds do, and 
the rugosa's value for cut flowers, each of which brings its own 
beautiful setting of dark green, glossy, crinkled foliage, free from 
insects and disease, is appreciated by the discerning. 

These Japanese roses, wild and hybrid, have scarcely reached 
their high tide of bloom when the yellow briers bring us their one 
meagre but precious offering of the year. Except in old-fashioned 
gardens, one rarely sees Persian yellow, Austrian copper and 
Scotch roses now; nevertheless, if only for sentiment's sake, the 
modern garden will not lack these charming little roses beloved 
by our grandmothers. After a warm, gentle rain, what delicious 
incense arises from another favourite of theirs, the sweetbrier! 
The small-flowered, fragrant-leaved, wild eglantine of Shakespeare's 
day has benefited by many modern improvements at the hands 
of the hybridiser, and of the sixteen varieties of Penzance sweet- 
briers all are good. Some are exquisitely tinted. None responds 
encouragingly to high cultivation, however. Once planted in rich, 
heavy soil, about ten feet apart, all they ask is the support of a 
trellis or fence, and to be let alone. Tied upon pillars or arches 
in an attempt to tame these more than half-wild revellers, they 
never look so well as when the long, vigorous canes are allowed to 
follow their own sweet will. 

June is and probably ever will be with us the month of roses, 
however much we may hasten and prolong their season. Then, 
and only then, are the hybrid "perpetuals" in their glory on 
American soil but in spite of their limitations, ignored in their 
name, they bid fair to remain for awhile the main stock of the rose 




The Rose Garden 295 

garden and the dooryard. Who that has a little strip of land to spare 
would forego the superlative white, pink, and deep velvety crimson 
beauty of Frau Karl Druschki, Baroness Rothschild and Prince 
Camille de Rohan ? Soft-petalled, pink damask roses that fill 
the old-fashioned, garden with a delicious attar scent — and no 
modern descendants have yet surpassed these ancient favorites 
— snowballs of Mme. Plantier, and French roses to dry for the 
potpourri jar, clouds of diminutive polyantha roses, pillar roses, 
bushes and trailers, intoxicate the senses with their varied love- 
liness in "June, dear June; now God be praised for June!" 

In the South and in California tea roses abound in every 
favoured garden for many months, to the envy of rose lovers in 
colder climes, who are denied the charms of this lovely class 
except in hothouses. Occasionally an enthusiast in the North 
risks planting teas in the open, covers the plants completely in 
winter, coddles and coaxes them, only to find many of his 
precious pets lifeless after the ice thaws. But within a few years 
a wonderful new race of roses has been developed : roses with the 
hardiness of the hybrid perpetuals, the chaste form and the delicate, 
refined fragrance of teas, and, above all, their habit of blooming 
freely throughout the summer and autumn. Now, indeed, are 
rose gardens well worth while. Now is the long season of the rosa- 
rian's discontent made glorious with these peerless roses. Of the 
hundred and fifty varieties rapidly given by the hybridisers to a 
clamouring, grateful public, perhaps only a tenth are of permanent 
value to northern growers, but the chosen are roses of such sur- 
passing loveliness that many an amateur fills his garden with them 
alone. Killarney's long-pointed, perfect pink buds that slowly 
expand and last for days indoors without dropping a petal on the 
ma hogany that mirrors their satisfying beauty; Caroline Testout, 

296 The American Flower Garden 

of bluer pink and more rounded form, but a charmer none the 
less; and La France, for its rich, oily, attar perfume, if no other 
pink ones, he must have; Kaiserin Augusta Victoria, a superla- 
tively lovely, large, robust white rose; Alice Grahame; Bessie 
Brown; Antoine Rivoire; Mme. Ravary and Mme. Abel Chatenay, 
of exquisite, soft apricot tint, suggesting the tender tea Safrano; 
the vivid Liberty red; and the bushy Gruss an Teplitz, whose 
crimson roses, unstintedly produced well above the deep-toned 
foliage tipped with maroon, keep the garden bright when all others 
fail — the little list may be amended or increased by every rose- 
grower who, in his particular section and under different con- 
ditions, has discovered the merits of roses better adapted to them; 
but he will certainly test these. From May till killing frost he may 
rely upon cutting from his garden such roses from these bushes as 
in former years came only from greenhouses in the North. 
Midsummer heat and drought, it is true, somewhat diminish 
their numbers, but never more should there be famine in the 
well-cared-for rose garden. 

And where shall that be made, and how tended ? 

A tree may be said to spread its roots as many feet from the 
trunk as it is high; therefore the rosarian will not place his darlings 
where their rich repasts will tempt greedy thieves. But roses, like 
all other flowers in the garden picture, need a background and a 
frame ; and trees at a safe distance, encircling the rose plot or act- 
ing as a shelter on its coldest, most windy side — especially ever- 
green trees there — add greatly to its beauty and comfort. Into 
some of the trees rambler roses may climb and toss into the air 
sprays of pink and crimson. But the trees should not be so dense 
as to interfere with a free circulation of air, or there will be mildew 
and other fungous troubles to fight continually; nor should pro- 

The Rose Garden 297 

tecting trees stand near enough to the roses to shade their wards. 
Red roses that fade unpleasantly bluish in strong sunlight would 
better take back seats in the lightly shaded places, if there be any 
such. An enclosing hedge of hemlock, arborvitae, or the ubiqui- 
tous privet about a rose garden protects it almost as well as a wall, 
and makes a far more effective foil for the flowers; but the roots 
of the evergreens should be kept from robbing the roses by 
partitions of concrete, boards or ashes, as explained in the 
perennial chapter. 

A wonderfully beautiful garden has a rose entwined and 
canopied pergola running entirely around its four sides and within 
a breast-high hemlock hedge. Here are easy chairs and tea- 
table, sewing-baskets and books in plenty, sunshine and shade, 
the sound of splashing water in the central fountain, the com- 
panionship of birds that come to bathe and to drink in the pool, 
the fragrance of roses inhaled with every breath, colour to delight 
one, and an entrancing picture from every seat in the open-air 
living-room. What a delicious place to rest! After centuries 
of running after false notions of what constitute home comforts, 
shall we not return to the Roman's idea of living in a garden — 
if not in the flower-filled courtyard of a house, as he did, then in a 
verdant enclosure near it ? 

The shape of the rose garden may depend upon the site avail- 
able for it, but one that is formal in outline and the arrangement 
of its beds, yet with the curse of flatness and rigidity obliterated 
by arches, pillars and festoons of rose vines, has practical as well 
as artistic merits. It need not be large nor costly to make or to 
maintain. A fountain, an arbour, a sundial, a picturesque old 
tree with a circular seat around its trunk, a clump of big boxwood 
or a bed of especially beautiful roses, may be its central feature. 

298 The American Flower Garden 

and around that the remaining space should be divided off into 
beds that can be easily reached at every point from a box-edged 
path. The favourite parallelogram running north and south 
need not have its subdivisions follow straight lines. Semi-circular 
or crescent beds at its four corners imply the partial curves of all 
other beds and the paths lying between them and the central 
feature. Or the parallelogram may have curved ends or sides 
to admit recessed garden seats set close against the evergreen 
hedge. Geometric designs seem forbidding when talked about 
or drawn on paper, but a well-balanced and thought-out rose gar- 
den, so fully planted that its formal lines are nearly lost in the 
verdure of rose bushes or softened by sprays of flowers, its paths 
over-canopied by luscious vines at intersecting points, its arches 
draped, its pillars or rustic lattices twined with roses, every vista 
ending in a beautiful picture, can give pleasure beyond the dreams 
of the unimaginative. To come upon such a garden unexpectedly, 
through an entrance that gives no hint of what is hidden within, 
is like suddenly entering Paradise. If a rose garden be forbidding, 
it is because there is too much design in evidence, and not enough 
luxuriance of growth to subordinate it. 

No rose garden should be situated in low ground that holds 
water: perfect drainage is essential to its health. Yet, where 
a house is perched on a bleak hill-top, the roses are happier a 
little distance below. There are few lovelier sights from a terrace 
than a thriving garden lying under the lee of a hill. But roses will 
never be lovely if they have wet feet, and a low-lying garden may 
require either tile draining, or an eight-inch layer of broken stone, 
bricks, or gravel laid under the rose beds at a depth of three feet. 

If possible, prepare the soil for your rose beds that are to 
be planted in the spring five or six months previous. Save at one 

The Rose Garden 299 

side the sod and best soil below it, removing the subsoil, if it be 
poor, to the depth of three feet, and loosening the floor of the bed 
with a pick. Mix about equal parts of good soil and thoroughly 
decomposed cow manure for a deep layer that is spread over the 
bottom of the bed, then the sod well broken, the top soil and more 
old manure thoroughly intermixed, and finally a top dressing of 
good garden soil, unenriched. All the fertiliser should be incor- 
porated with the soil in the lower two-thirds of the bed. No rose, 
newly set out, should have its roots within striking distance of 
manure, however old it may be. After the plant begins to grow 
in its new home it draws the rich moisture from below and appro- 
priates it readily enough as the need arises. Beds that are piled 
a little higher than the surrounding land in autumn when they are 
made have usually settled by spring to the desired level — about 
an inch below the surrounding surface, which enables them to 
retain rainfall. They should never be so high as to dry out. 
Different roses like different soils: the hybrid perpetuals prefer 
heavy loam containing some clay and the humus furnished by well- 
rotted sod; hybrid teas, noisettes, Bourbons and ramblers a 
lighter, warmer soil, with sand and leaf-mould intermixed and 
added to the original compost in the proportion of one to four. 

For practical as well as aesthetic reasons it is best to grow 
each kind of rose in a bed to itself — some rosarians separate 
types, others give each colour a plot of its own. For hybrid 
perpetuals a bed four feet wide suffices, as a double row of 
roses can be set out in it, the plants not directly but diagonally 
opposite one another, two and a half feet apart, where they will 
not interfere with the air and light of their companions. Almost 
all hybrid teas may be grown in beds three feet wide inside the 
boxwood or sod borders, the plants set out eight inches from the 

300 The American Flower Garden 

edge and two feet apart; but an exception to the rule is the Gruss 
an Teplitz, for example, which quickly attains the size of a bush 
requiring a bed made on a more generous scale. Kaiserin Augusta 
Victoria, lovely creature, is a buxom beauty, vigorous and free. 
She, too, needs plenty of room to display her immaculate charms. 
Many rosarians set out pansies, English daisies, alyssum, migno- 
nette or other low-growing plants between the roses to carpet the 
earth with bloom. 

When buying roses, the general rule holds good : it is economy 
in the end to get only the best quality of stock from the most 
reliable dealer. The market is flooded with roses alleged to be 
cheap, but in reality they are very small, weak, inferior plants, not 
really worth half what is asked for them. A dozen such would 
not furnish the real joy contained in one large, healthy, super- 
latively fine plant that one need not sit up nights to coddle. Gener- 
ally it is best to buy roses that have been budded on the vigorous 
Manetti stock. The brier stock, so popular in England, is not so 
well suited to our dryer, hotter climate. Only a few roses — Caro- 
line Testout, Ulrich Brunner and Magna Charta among them — 
do so well on their own roots. Always plant the rose deep enough 
for the point where the bud was inserted to be well covered with 
soil — with a good three inches of it — otherwise Manetti suckers 
may develop. These wild shoots may be detected at once by the 
seven serrated leaflets instead of five to the leaf, and the minute 
prickles on the stem. Remove the earth around the shoot down 
to where it leaves the stock, pare it off close and so discourage any 
rare attempt that may be made to revert to the wild. 

When the plants arrive from the dealer in the spring, as soon 
as severe frost is over, lay them flat in a hole and cover them entirely 
with soil for a day or two if they look shrivelled from long travel, 

The Rose Garden 301 

or if you are not quite ready to set them out with that leisurely 
carefulness that so well repays the rosarian. Examine each plant, 
and cut off with a sharp knife or pruning-shears all broken roots, 
bruised stalks, weak growth, long canes that may be whipped by 
Hhe wind, and any eyes that can be detected below the bud on the 
Manetti stock, lest they develop later. Take from the hole where 
the roses have been heeled in, or from their protecting cover, only 
one plant at a time, and set it out immediately, lest its roots dry 
out in the wind and sun. Two pairs of hands are better than one 
when it comes to planting roses — one is needed to hold the plant 
in position while the other pair spreads out the roots horizontally, 
in such a way that they do not cross one another, and covers them 
with the finely worked soil, which should be firmly pressed down 
with the boot. Stamping will pack it none too firmly, for air spaces 
around the roots are fatal. Pot-grown roses for late planting must 
be set out just as their cramped roots leave the terra cotta prisons: 
they cannot be spread without endangering the rose's life. If 
many roses are to be planted, in no other way can they be set out 
so quickly as in a trench of the proper depth and width. 

Over the raked surface of the rose bed spread enough light 
stable litter, short hay, leaves, or grass cuttings from the lawn to 
screen the sun from the soil and prevent it from baking. In every 
newly planted garden this mulch should be left on all summer. 
It is not pretty; it is rather troublesome to lift off and replace when 
the surface of the soil needs stirring with a hoe once a month; but 
the mulch increases the vigour if it does not save the life of every rose 
you set out; moreover, it keeps down weeds. Hybrid teas and 
teas are especially dependent upon it if they are to bloom at 
midsummer. Only well-established, deep-rooted roses can safely 
do without it during drought. It prevents much loss of moisture. 

302 The American Flower Garden 

However, it does not lessen the necessity for showering the roses 
frequently with a light spray from a hose, which also keeps 
the foliage clean and healthy. 

To stimulate growth, coarse, medium, or fine bone-meal 
stirred into the soil about roses is excellent, and slow or rapid in 
its effects in proportion to the size of the grains. Frequent wettings 
of weak manure water after buds begin to form — a pailful of 
old rotten manure from the cow barn or pigsty to a barrel of water 
supplies a tonic that looks like weak tea — are preferable to stronger 
draughts, which either over-stimulate or burn the plants. "Weak 
and often" is the safe rule. A half-gallon to each plant produces 
effects that are noticeable within a week. Do not besmirch the 
foliage with it, but apply it directly to the soil about the roots. 
A top dressing of wood ashes in the spring restores potash to the 
soil if it has been depleted by old plants. Light refreshments 
during the summer, and the feeding that results from a three- 
inch covering of rough manure during the winter, suffice to pro- 
duce splendid roses; but no roses will be splendid unless they are 
liberally fed and watered. Also they must be protected from their 

What are they ? In sandy soil the most formidable is the 
rose-beetle; elsewhere it is less troublesome and in some favoured 
places does not exist. Soft-petalled flowers like the damask and 
Mme. Plantier are its special favourites, but none, perhaps, does 
it wholly ignore, and with diabolical wickedness it goes straight to 
the heart of the rose. Picking off the villains by hand and dropping 
them into a can half-filled with kerosene is even more effective 
than spraying with arsenate of lead which, however, is discouraging 
to the pest's posterity and therefore should not be neglected. On 
tender new shoots the little aphides or green flies, in countless 

me Kose Garden 303 

numbers, suck away the plant's vitality. Inasmuch as they, like 
the poor, are likely to be always with us, the rosarian will prepare 
half a barrelful of whale-oil-soap solution before their first appear- 
ance, and spray the pests regularly until they disappear. If the 
fight begin in time, a victory is easily won which, indeed, may be 
said of any warfare waged for roses. Enemies sometimes multiply 
a thousandfold in a single day. For the slugs which skeletonise 
the rose leaves use powdered white hellebore. Dissolve one 
heaping tablespoonful of the poison in a pailful of boiling water 
and after the decoction has cooled, sprinkle it on the under side 
of the leaves from a whisk broom. To get at them properly bend 
over the top of the plant until the hiding-place of the slugs is 
exposed. One application usually discourages them for the season. 
Old wood may attract the bark louse or white scale, which is best 
treated during the winter. Fifteen grains of the deadly poison, 
corrosive sublimate, dissolved in a pint of water, make a wash 
that they cannot withstand. Brush it over the woody old canes. 
So much for insect pests. 

Bordeaux, powdered or in solution, and potassium sulphide 
are our staunch allies in the eternal warfare waged against mildew, 
rust, and the lesser evils of a fungous nature resulting from a wet, 
hot season. The more energetically one fights these at the outset, 
the less need one do later. Thrifty, clean foliage, the lungs of the 
plant and the setting for the roses, contributes very greatly to 
their health and charm. The results of our efforts are cumulative: 
well-tended, vigorous rose bushes have very few troubles indeed. 
Let not the doubting heart of the novice be afraid. All the possible 
evils that have been enumerated never come, perhaps, to the same 
garden, but any one might appear. Emphasis of the strongest 
kind is laid on the joy of growing healthy roses. 

304 The American Flower Garden 

Except for the cutting back of the longest canes, lest the wind 
whip them and thereby loosen the roots, it is best to defer the 
pruning of roses until early spring, and then to begin on the hardiest 
of them, the hybrid perpetuals. For flowers of superior quality, 
cut out all weak growth, retaining only the most vigorous canes 
which require shortening in proportion to the plant's development. 
If the bush be big and strong, leave eight or ten inches of cane; 
if it be young or delicate, half that height will be enough for the 
roots to support. Cut cleanly, sharply through the cane a little 
above a bud, so as not to injure it, and choose for the top one a bud 
that is on the outside of the cane; for, if a bud that points inward 
be left at the top, the lusty shoot which presently develops from it 
shuts out air and light from the centre of the bush, the very part 
that should be kept open. Encourage growth on the outside of 
the plant; cut off cleanly the shoots that would grow inward. If 
quantities of flowers are wanted for their effect in the garden, 
rather than fewer roses superlatively fine, prune less drastically. 
But be it observed that the generous gardener, who cuts roses with 
long stems and never hesitates to sacrifice a few buds to complete 
the beauty of a spray, is the one who is rewarded with the finest 
flowers. Plants invariably produce more flower buds than their 
strength allows them to develop well. They would merely exhaust 
themselves in an effort that the wise gardener does not permit. 
Therefore, cut the roses, with their attendant buds, as long as they 
last. Whenever in doubt, cut. " Gather ye rosebuds while ye may," 
but as early in the morning as possible, before the sun softens the 
stems and petals. Roses that are laid in a bath of cold water for an 
hour before they are arranged in vases become firm and refreshed, 
which, of course, is as true of other flowers. From fifty bushes you 
should be able to half fill a bathtub every morning during the season. 

The Rose Garden 305 

While it injures no rose bush or vine to cut its blossoms, there 
are some roses which it pays to ignore during the spring pruning. 
Bourbon roses will not bloom on new wood — therefore the shears 
should be used very lightly on the old. Rugosas and briers, too, 
require little attention unless the old canes become bark bound. 
As for the pillar roses, their situation and use would best dictate 
their treatment, for on lattices their lateral shoots need encourage- 
ment to spread by shortening the top leaders, while on posts the 
laterals will be cut back to an eye or two as an inducement for 
the vine to lengthen and twine. Teas and hybrid teas resent hard 
pruning. Unless the shoots are very weak, do not remove them, 
but merely cut back their tops a little after the stems grow green 
and the dormant buds begin to swell in the spring. Not till then 
can one know how much dead wood needs to be cut away. Strong 
perpetuals need hard pruning. 

There are those, perhaps, to whom the care that some roses 
require seems too great for the reward, but such captious critics 
can never have known the ineffable joy that comes to the amateur 
who grows to perfection the queen of flowers. 

The Rosarian's Calendar 

The following dates, based on an average season in the 
neighbourhood of New York, are by Capt. A. Ward. Allow four 
days for every hundred miles of latitude. 

Use no insecticides or fungicides unless there be need. 

March i$th — Finish pruning hardy roses already planted. 

March 25th — Plant new hardy roses, pruning new plants 
rather more severely than those of the same varieties already 

April i$tb — Finish pruning the tender varieties as far as 

306 The American Flower Garden 

possible without uncovering completely. Give to all the beds and 
to any neighbouring pear trees, grape vines, phlox, hollyhocks, 
or other plants subject to fungoid diseases, which are conta- 
gious, a thorough spraying of Bordeaux mixture as a preventive. 

April 20th-2$th — Uncover tender varieties. Plant any new 
ones received, giving these a light, protecting mulch. Give final 
touches to pruning. Before roses are in leaf, toward the end of 
April, spray them with whale-oil soap (one pound to eight gallons 
of water) to discourage the first insect pests. 

May 10th — Leaves open. Spray with potassium sulphide 
(one-half ounce to one gallon of water) to prevent mildew. Repeat 
spraying a week later and perhaps again in a fortnight. 

May 20th — Buds forming. Apply weak manure water. 
Second spraying of whale-oil soap, if necessary, to annihilate 
aphis or other survivors. 

May 25th — Earliest roses bloom, rugosas, followed by the 
yellowbriers. Apply liquid manure to hybrid perpetuals. 

June ist — Hybrid perpetuals begin to bloom. 

June yth — Damask, Mme. Plantier, and perpetuals bloom in 
quantity. Watch for rose beetle and spray with arsenate of lead 
(five pounds to fifty gallons of water) if necessary, and at intervals 
of a week apply it again thrice. Three times apply liquid manure 
to hybrid teas and teas. 

June 21 st — Hybrid perpetuals and hybrid teas and tea 
roses bloom in quantity. 

July ph — As the hybrid perpetuals diminish, rambler and 
shrubbery roses, hybrid teas, and teas supply a wealth of bloom. 

July nth — Hybrid teas and teas in quantity. Spray 

with whale-oil soap if aphis persist. Rose bugs disappear. 

v Commence regular weekly applications of sulphide of potassium 

The Rose Garden 307 

for black spot (if a wet season) or dilute Bordeaux mixture every 
three weeks, until the twentieth of August, if appearance of foliage 
indicates fungoid troubles such as mildew, black spot, yellow leaf, 
etc., all depending on the season. 

July 20th — Have mulch on hybrid teas and teas by this 
date at the very latest. Earlier, if season be hot and dry. 

August 30th — Second bloom of hybrid teas and teas 
begins, lasting until hard frost. Apply liquid manure as buds 
begin to form. 

September 15th — Sparse second bloom, never plentiful, of 
hybrid perpetuals begins. 

October I yb — Prepare new beds for next spring planting. 
Remove from old beds any of the mulch that cannot be forked in. 

November 15th — Commence placing manure protection around 
roots; tenderest roses first. After a nip or two of sharp frost, 
cover up tender roses for the winter. Increase depth of protection 
for other roses. Hybrid tea buds, if covered before hard frost 
with little paper bags, such as are placed over bunches of grapes, 
will unfold lovely roses for the Thanksgiving dinner stable. 

Roses For All Purposes 

Note. — The following selection embraces the most reliable kinds 
and the greatest range of colour for the region of New York, and is based 
on a close study of the best collections. The amateur who wants the 
smallest number of varieties to give a comprehensive survey of the 
rose family will find those marked (*) to include the best repre- 
sentatives of all the types and colours, and covering the longest 
season of bloom. They would form a perfect skeleton, as it were, for 
a representative rose garden, giving flowers from May to November, 
in diverse types. 

The classes are indicated in parentheses after the name, thus: 
(7".), tea; (H. P.), hybrid perpetual; (H. T.), hybrid tea, a blending of 
the T. and H. P.; (Pol.), Rosa polyantha of gardens, not of botanists; 
(Hyb. Wich.), a hybrid of which R. Wichuraiana is one parent, etc. 

308 The American Flower Garden 

Other class indications are sufficiently obvious. The species itself is 
indicated by R., for Rosa. 


For planting in mixed borders, for hedges, edgings, and in the less-cared-for 
parts of the garden. 

*Blanc Double de Coubert (Hyb. rugosa). White. Large, double, 
with large, individual petals. Perfectly hardy. For hedges, town 
and country. Do not prune. 

*Catherine Ziemet (Pol.). White, double. Free flowering. Dwarf 
habit. Excellent companion to Madame N. Levavasseur. Some- 
times called the White Baby Rambler. 

*Clothilde Soupert (Pol.). Flesh pink with darker centre. For 
bedding and massing. Profuse and continuous bloomer. Hardy. 
Erect habit. Prune by thinning. There is a climbing form of this. 

*Conrad Ferdinand Meyer (Hyb. rugosa). Silvery rose. Double. 
Very vigorous. Hardy. Early flowering. For hedges or specimens. 
One of the very best roses. Do not prune. 

*Damask (R. Damascena). Rose pink. June. Extremely fragrant. 
Semi-double. One of the oldest and hardiest. Foliage pale green. 
Very prickly. Often confused with Rosa Gallica, pale pink flowers, 
dark green foliage and few prickles. Var. bicolor, white and rose, 
variegated. The old York and Lancaster, pink flowers and white 
flowers on the same bush, is a Damask rose. 

*Harison's Yellow (Brier). Golden Yellow. Double. Summer 
blooming. For garden specimens. Vigorous. Hardy. Flower- 
ing on old wood. Do not prune. 

*Lucida (R. lucid a). Light rose pink. For bush, hedge, and shrub- 
bery. Foliage effective all summer. In garden borders should 
be cut down completely every year or two. Long fruits in winter. 
There is also a white variety. 

*Madame Plantier (Hyb. China). White. Medium size, in clusters. 
Faint aromatic odour. Leaves slightly glossy. Profuse early 
bloomer. One of the best roses for untended places. 

* Rugosa (R. rugosa). Purplish rose, and var. alba, white. Best rose for 
ornamental hedges, and especially for the seaside. Low, dense bush. 

The Rose Garden 309 

The large single flowers are followed by showy, large orange fruits. 
Not subject to disease or insect. Grows anywhere. Do not prune. 

*Sweet Brier (R. rubiginosd). Pale pink. Very vigorous. For 
bush, hedge, or pillar. Fragrant foliage. Flowers small in clusters. 
Do not prune. Hybrids of this are the Penzance Briers, which, 
although excellent for hedges in half wild places, are not as valuable 
as the Wichuraianas for pillars. 

*W. C. Egan (Hyb. Wich.). Light pink. Large. Double. In small 
clusters. Foliage slightly glossy. Nearly always in bloom. Excellent 
for garden and shrubbery. 


These are the " old-fashioned " or " garden " roses, and mostly really old varieties, 
producing clustered flowers in profusion; not of value for cutting, but highly decorative in 
the garden, and often specially fragrant. Flowers rather small, flat, and petals short. 
Prune by thinning and only moderate cutting back. 

Aurora (Bengal). Salmon yellow. Floriferous and pretty. Growth 

Etoile de Mai (Pol.). Nankeen yellow in bud, yellowish white when 

open, fairly double. Dwarf. 
Eugene Lamesch (Pol.). Little orange-yellow flowers in trusses of five 

to ten blooms. Fragrant. Dwarf. 
Flocon de Niege (Pol.). Pure white in trusses. Very free flowering. 

Rather stronger growing than most of the type. 
Frau Syndica Roeloffs (Bengal). Bright yellow, shaded coppery 

red. Semi-double. Moderate. 
Leonie Lamesch (Pol.). Bright red, with golden centre. Blooms 

fairly freely. Very fragrant. Dwarf. 
Madame E. Resal (Bengal). Bright rosy pink, shaded orange. Semi- 
double. Very floriferous. Moderate. 
Mademoiselle Cecile Brunner (Pol.). Salmon-f>ink, becoming 

white. One of the "Fairy" roses, having miniature buds and 

flowers. Dwarf. 
Marie Pavie (Pol.). White flowers with rosy centre. One of the 

largest of its class, and one of the best. Should occupy the central 

space if bedded with other varieties. 
Mignonette (Pol). Soft rose, changing to white. Flowers in small 

clusters. Very pretty and one of the lowest growing. 

310 The American Flower Garden 

Perle d'Or (Pol.). Nankeen yellow, with orange centre. Small and 

full. Dwarf. 
Perle des Rouges (Pol.). Velvety crimson, reflex of petals cerise. 

Very floriferous. Quite dwarf. 
*Madame Norbert Levavasseur (Pol.). Popularly known as Baby 

Rambler. Cerise. Profuse flowering, in clusters. Very dwarf. 

Hardy. Continuous bloomer. Flowers on rooted cuttings. Prune 

very lightly. Moderate. 


*Aglaia (Pol.). Yellow in bud, becoming white. Double. Slightly 

fragrant. The nearest to yellow among the ramblers. This, and 

all roses of similar habit, should be pruned merely by thinning out 

the old flowering canes. 
*Alberic Barbier (Hyb. Wich.). Creamy white, yellow in the bud. 

Semi-double. Medium sized. Fragrant. The best white pillar 

rose for size of flowers. 
Ard's Rover (H. P.). Crimson, shaded maroon. Flowers equal to 

many of the regular H. P. varieties. Large. Fragrant. Blooms 

middle of June and early July. 
Baltimore Belle (Hyb. setigera). Double. Creamy white. Foliage 

light green. Blooms July. Also good for shrubbery. 
*Carmine Pillar (H. P.). Carmine. Single. Three inches across. 

Early. The largest-flowered and deepest-coloured climber. Vigorous. 

Do not prune. 
*Crimson Rambler (Pol.). Trusses of bright crimson flowers in 

profusion. For walls, pillars, trellises, etc. The most popular 

climbing rose. Very vigorous. Philadelphia is very like this, 

but flowers earlier, and not so liable to disease. Cut out 

old canes. 

*Dorothy Perkins (Hyb. Wich.). Shell pink. Double. In many- 
flowered, loose trusses. Best pink climber. Closely resembling 
Crimson Rambler, but more elegant, and with glossy foliage. 

*Farquhar (Hyb. Wich). Bright pink. Double. In clusters. Trail- 
ing. For banks, walls, pillars, etc. Cut out old canes. Similar 
to Dorothy Perkins in habit. 

The Rose Garden 311 

*Hiawatha (Hyb. Wich.). Bright crimson. Single, with showy yellow 
stamens. Free flowering in clusters. 

*Leuchtstern (Pol.). Bright rose with white eye. Single in large 
clusters. Resembles Crimson Rambler in habit. The most effec- 
tive bright-coloured single for pillar and trellis. 

*Memorial (R. Wichuraiana). Climbing. Small white flowers. Very 
vigorous. Shining, almost evergreen foliage. For draping walls, 
banks, rocks, etc. Do not prune. Will self sow. 

*Multiflora (R. multiflora). Pure white. Single, in many-flowered 
clusters. Very vigorous. The most showy white climber. Pillar, 
arch, hedge, and shrubbery. Do not prune. 

*Pink Roamer (Hyb. JVich.). Bright pink. Fragrant. Single. § 
inch diameter. In large, dense clusters. Rampant, free-growing 
climber. Excellent for naturalising. Do not prune. 

*Prairie Rose (R. setigera). Dull rose. Single. Large. In many- 
flowered clusters. Very late, end of July. Hardy. The only late 
single climber. Leaf is characteristic, hairy, and dull light green. 

*Queen of the Prairie (Hyb. setigera). Rosy red, usually with white 
stripe. Large, light foliage. Later flowering than most other 
climbers, end of July. Unsurpassed for arbours. 

*Single Musk (R. moschata, var. alba). Pure white. Single. Large, 
in few-flowered clusters. For trellises, pillars, etc. 

the tea-scented roses 

Unsurpassed for delicacy of colours and fascinating shadings in pink, yellow, and 
coppery bronze; there are no really dark reds in the true teas. These are the tenderest of 
the family, and, except in the South and California, need protection. They are worth the 
effort, because of their continuous blooming quality. If heavily mulched like herbaceous 
plants they can be grown around New York. 

Anna Ollivier (T.). Rosy flesh and buff, vigorous grower. Prune 
sparingly,- that is, thin out, reducing the remaining canes slightly. 

Madame Cheddanne Guiniosseau (T.). Canary yellow. Medium- 
sized flower. Beautiful in bud. Growth moderate. Prune well. 

Madame Jean Dupuy (T.). Reddish yellow, centre rosy yellow, beautiful 
form. An abundant autumn bloomer. Strong-growing. Vigorous. 
The buds are long and carried on single stems. Prune sparingly. 

Madame Jules Gravereaux (T.). Chamois-yellow, with rosy centre. 
Disbud freely. A cross between Reve d'Or and Viscountess Folke- 

312 The American Flower Garden 

stone; semi-climbing in habit. Vigorous grower; bud very long and 
pointed. Thin only; don't cut back. 

Madame Wagram Comtesse de Tourenne (T.). Satiny rose 
shaded flesh pink. Of marked beauty and vigorous, semi-climbing 
habit. Blooms very large. Very good on a low trellis. 

*Maman Cochet (T.). Pink. Most profuse blooming, and the hardiest 
of all the teas. Best formed bud of any rose. Growth spreading 
and rather low. Free flowering. Excellent for cutting. Prune 
sparingly. There is a white form which is tinged with yellow and 
pink ; equally as good as the pink. 

Marie Van Houtte (T.). Canary yellow; external petals and borders 
pencilled with bright rose. Free and continuous bloomer. Hardier 
than most teas. Growth vigorous. Prune sparingly. 

Nabonnand (T.). Also known as George Nabonnand. Tender 
pink, shaded yellow. Blooms mostly singly. First rate, especially 
in autumn. Prune lightly. 

Reichsgraf von Kesselstadt (T.). White, distinctly edged and 
pencilled with bright pink. Medium size. Especially effective in 
autumn, as the growth is thin earlier in the season. Protect care- 
fully. Growth moderate. Prune well. 

Souvenir de Catherine Guillot (T.). Orange-red, tinted carmine. 
One of the most striking flowers in appearance and colour. Flor- 
iferous, but thin, and not absolutely trustworthy in winter. 

Souvenir de Pierre Notting (3".). Apricot yellow, mingled with 
golden yellow. A cross between Marechal Niel and Maman 
Cochet. A fairly vigorous grower. Prune moderately. 

White Maman Cochet (7".). A sport from Maman Cochet, which 
it resembles except in colour. (See above.) 


These are the mainstay and delight of the American rose amateur. A combination of 
the Hybrid Perpetuals and the Teas, they present the hardiness and colours of the one (to 
a large degree), and the beauty of flower and continuous blooming quality of the other. 
New varieties are continually being added, and any selection of varieties is likely to be 
largely superseded in a few years. As a group they will grow and flower without any 
special pruning. Attention need be given to the necessities of the individual case only. 

Admiral Dewey (H. T.). Silvery pink. A sport from Caroline Testout. 
Amateur Teyssier (H. T.). Creamy white in the early season, light 

The Rose Garden 313 

saffron yellow in autumn. An abundant bloomer and of excellent 
form. A sport from Souvenir de Mme. E. Verdier. A vigorous 
grower, and one of the very best of its class. 

Antoine Ri voire (H. T.). Good grower, and very fine variety, espe- 
cially in the early season. Rosy flesh. Cross between Doctor Grill 
and Lady Mary Fitzwilliam. Prune by moderate thinning and 
shortening the remainder. 

Belle Siebrecht (H. T.). An unusual shade of bright, light pink; 
strikingly beautiful. Long bud. Moderate grower. Known in 
England as Mrs. W. J. Grant. Too delicate to be seen at its best in 
our climate, except in the early season and sometimes in autumn. 
Unsurpassed by any rose of its colour. Prune fairly hard. The so- 
called Climbing Siebrecht is not a real climber, but is more vigorous, 
and will give better results generally than the parent. 

♦Caroline Testout (H. T.). Pink, large, globular. Profuse bloomer. 
Slightly fragrant. Excellent for bedding. Hardier than La France. 
Free growing. Very thorny. Prune sparingly. One of the best 
known H. T.'s. 

Clara Watson (H. T.). Creamy white, tinted rose. First-rate as a cut 
rose. Growth moderate. Prune sparingly. 

Ellen Wilmot (H. 77). Flesh white, with centre of rosy white. Fine 
long bud. Vigorous growth. Prune hard. 

*Etoile de France (H. T.). Velvety crimson, centre cerise; blooms 
cupped in form and very large. Continuous and free flowering. 
Fragrant. The brightest-coloured of all the very dark roses. Cross 
between Mme. Abel Chatenay and Fisher Holmes. Stiff, vigorous 
growth. Prune moderately. 

Franz Deegen (H. T.). Pale yellow, centre deep yellow. Buds long 
and pointed, on single stems. A moderate grower and good rose. 
Prune sparingly. 

Grace Darling (H. TV). Creamy white, shaded peach. Especially 
good early in the season. Very distinct in colour. Growth good. 
Prune moderately. 

Gustave Sobry (H. T.). Beautiful bright yellow flowers. Very 
floriferous. A moderate grower. Prune moderately. 

*Gruss an Teplitz (H. T.). Deep bright crimson. The best of all the 
dark red roses for continuous and profuse bloom. Garden, bush, 

314 The American Flower Garden 

or hedge. Prune by thinning. This is a Bengal hybrid, of a 
growth altogether too vigorous to find place in the ordinary 
rose bed. Planted in groups with the individual bushes about 
four feet apart, it produces a telling effect with its continuous 
bloom of bright clusters. As a contrast the equally vigorous 
Frau Karl Druschki {H. P.) is fine, with its unsurpassed beauty 
of white blossoms. 

Innocence (H. T.). White, medium full and globular. Very floriferous. 
A good grower, and one of the best white H. Ts. Prune lightly. 

*Kaiserin Augusta Victoria (H. T.). Yellowish white. Fragrant. 
Excellent form, and most lovely. Hardy. A splendid companion 
to Killarney. Prune moderately. 

*Killarney (H. T.). Pure pink. The best rose of its colour; but thin, 
especially in mid-season. Long, pointed buds. Excellent for cut- 
ting. Free flowering. Growth vigorous. Prune moderately. There 
is a white form of this rose which is in every way the counterpart 
of its parent except in colour. 

Koenigin Carola (H. T.). Silvery rose, upright in growth, on long, 
single stems; very large. One of the very best novelties. Cross 
between Caroline Testout and Viscountess Folkestone. Growth 
vigorous. Prune sparingly. 

La Detroite (H. T.). Light pink, back of petals lighter. Of the distinct 
Testout type. A good constant bloomer. A very promising 
vigorous variety of American origin; a cross between Caroline Testout 
and Bridesmaid. Prune fairly hard 

*La France (H. T.). Silvery pink, with paler reflex. Very fragrant. 

Has a tendency toward a bluish tinge. Excellent form. Large 

flower. Few thorns. Prune sparingly. This is the original 

" Hybrid Tea," and is still holding its own. 
Lady Clanmorris (H. T.). Creamy white with pink centre. A fine 

variety, but requiring good weather to open properly. Vigorous 

grower. Prune lightly. 

Madame Abel Chatenay {H. T.). Salmon-shaded rose. One of the 
best roses for cutting. Flowers full and of good size. Prune slightly. 

Madame J. Grolez (H. T.). Bright rose; very distinct colour. Excel- 
lent bloomer both early and late. One of the best. Good grower. 
Prune lightly. 

The Rose Garden 315 

Madame J. P. Soupert (H. T.). White with yellow tints. Very large. 
Bud beautiful in form. Excellent for cutting. Cross between 
Caroline Testout and Alice Furon. Vigorous growth. Prune lightly. 

Madame Melanie Soupert (H. T.). Golden yellow, shaded carmine. 
Very large; about half full; petals broad. Buds of remarkable 
beauty. Floriferous. Upright, vigorous growth. Prune sparingly. 

*Madame Ravary {H. T.). Deep apricot yellow. Large, globular, 
and nearly full. A decorative rose of great merit. Moderate growth. 
Prune moderately hard. 

Mildred Grant (H. T.). Silvery white, edges bordered with pink. 
Probably the largest in the class. A very distinct rose. Plants 
slow to establish, but merit extra care. Moderate grower. Prune 
very lightly. 

Monsieur Joseph Hill (H. T.). Pink, shaded salmon. Flowers 
very large. A floriferous and beautiful variety. Vigorous growth. 
Prune but little. 

Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt (H. T.). Creamy white, centre rose. 
Bud long and of excellent shape. Flower fine in form. Growth 
vigorous. An American rose, first-class in every respect. Prune little. 

*Prince de Bulgarie (H. T.). Rosy flesh, shaded salmon and orange. 
Continuous bloomer both early and late. Good foliage One of 
the best all-round roses in the class. Prune lightly. 

Viscountess Folkestone (H. T.). Light rose with darker centre. 
Floriferous. Useful as a "garden" rose. Good perfume. An 
old favourite. Very good if freely disbudded. Growth moderate. 
Prune moderately. 

hybrid perpetuals 

These embrace the great bulk of the most showy and gorgeous flowers of June, and 
are the hardiest and the largest-flowered roses. With few exceptions, however, they are 
not " perpetual " bloomers in America, flowering, as a rule, only in the early summer. 
The special exceptions are noted below by the (f) sign. The group is a nondescript one, 
embracing many sections, but conveniently considered as one culturally. All will stand 
severe pruning. For the (*) sign see Note on page 307. 

Alfred Colomb (H. P.). Bright red. Flowers large, full and semi- 
globular, with high centre. Blooms rather late in June. Fragrant. 
A first-rate rose. Good grower. Prune back hard. 

316 The American Flower Garden 

|Anna de Diesbach (H. P.). Synonym, Gloire de Paris. Beautiful 
shade of carmine. Very large and full. Growth vigorous and 
upright. Fragrant. Perpetual flowering. Prune hard. 

Baroness Rothschild (H. P.). Pale pink. Flowers and foliage 
exceptionally fine. Globular. Scentless. Growth stocky. Prune 
fairly hard. 

*Cabbage (R. centifolia). The hundred-leaf or common Provence rose. 
Strong, rosy pink. Vigorous growing. Very fragrant. For bush 
or shrubbery. An old-time favourite. Prune very hard. 

Countess of Oxford (H. P.). Bright carmine. Bud very fine. 
Scentless. Smooth wood, and very handsome foliage. Flower 
cup-shaped, and one of the largest in this class. Growth vigorous. 

Eclair (H. P.). Of the Jacqueminot type, but fiery red. Very distinct 
in colour. Globular in form. Fragrant. Growth vigorous. 

Eugene Furst (H. P.). Jacqueminot race. Velvety crimson, shaded 
deeper crimson. Flowers late. Fragrant. Needs watching for 
mildew, but is one of the finest, if not the very finest, of the dark 
roses for New York. / 

Fisher Holmes (H. P.). Deep crimson-scarlet. Moderately full. 
Very floriferous. Fine imbricated form. Fragrant. This rose 
lasts longer under our hot suns of June than the majority of its 
colour. Growth medium. Prune moderately. 

*Frau Karl Druschki (H. P.). Snow white. A cross between Mer- 
veille de Lyon and Caroline Testout, so hardly an H. P., though 
so classed. Growth remarkably vigorous, and for that reason un- 
suitable for ordinary rose beds. The plants should be at least 
three feet apart. They readily attain to a height of over five feet 
the first year. Flowers fairly full, very large, inclined to flat. Buds 
often 3 to 4 inches long. Opens well, and blooms off and on through- 
out the season. The very finest rose of its colour in the class. 
Look out for a tendency to mildew in continued damp weather. 
Prune moderately. 

Gracilis (Moss). Pink; with characteristic mossy sepals enclosing the 
bud. The best of all the moss roses. Treat like any ordinary H. P. 

Jean Liabaud (H. P.). Crimson -maroon, with gleams of scarlet. 
Full and large. Fragrant. Moderate growth. Prune fairly 

The Rose Garden 317 

•(•Louis van Houtte (H. P.). Once fairly established, the deep red 
velvety blooms, shaded deeper crimson, are unique among the 
dark roses. Small foliage. If the plants do not get a good start 
it is useless to waste time over them. Very fragrant. Remarkably 
free from mildew for a dark rose. One of the best. Growth 
moderate. Prune fairly hard. 

Marie Baumann (H. P.). Bright red, resembling very closely the later- 
blooming Alfred Colomb. Very fragrant. Reliable mid-June 
bloomer. Floriferous. Flowers well-shaped, semi-globular. 
Vigorous growth. Prune hard. 

fMARiE Finger (H. P.). Synonym Mile. Eugenie Verdier. Bright 
silvery pink, deeper in centre. Not very fragrant. Good autumnal. 
Smooth wood. Handsome foliage. Growth moderate. Prune 

fMARQUiSE de Castellane (H. P.). Carmine-rose ; not fading in the 
sun. Flowers full. Not fragrant. One of the most effective pinkish 
roses and a reliable autumn bloomer. Growth moderate, stocky. 
Prune moderately. 

* |Mrs. John Laing (H. P.). Silvery pink. Continuous bloomer. 

Long stem. Fragrant. For groups, masses and cutting. The 
best quite hardy pink rose. Vigorous grower. Prune hard. 

* j-Mrs. R. G. Sharman-Crawford (H. P.). Deep rosy pink; outer 

petals shaded pale flesh. Quite distinct from all other H. P. roses. 
Almost a continuous bloomer, and reliable in autumn. One of the 
best roses grown. Vigorous. Prune hard. 
*Paul Neyron (H. P.). Pink, with purplish tinge. Not specially 
pleasing in colour, but strong growing and the largest-flowered of all 
roses; almost equals a peony in size and form. Effective in masses, 
and useful in spite of its coarseness. Prune hard. 

fPRlDE of Waltham (H. P.). Delicate flesh, shaded bright rose. 
Flowers opening well, and of good shape. A sport from Countess 
of Oxford. Very attractive. Vigorous. Prune moderately. 

Prince Camille de Rohan (H. P.). Synonym, La Rosiere. Deep, 
velvety crimson. Fragrant. A remarkably floriferous cool-weather 
rose, but liable to burn in the sun. Grow this rose in a bed where it 
will have some shade during the hot afternoons. Growth vigorous. 
Prune moderately hard. 

318 The American Flower Garden 

fSouvENiR de la Malmaison (Bourbon). Clear flesh, with flushed 
centre. Large and double. Most beautiful in bud. Growth 
rather low and spreading. Fine autumn bloomer. Prune lightly 
and by thinning. 

Souvenir de William Wood (H. P.). Dark, blackish purple with 

reflections of red. Unsurpassed in intensity of colour. Fragrant. 

Must be watched for mildew (which applies to nearly all dark 

roses). Growth vigorous. Prune moderately. 
*Ulrich Brunner (H. P.). Cherry red. Very large flower on long 

smooth stem. Vigorous grower. Perfectly hardy. Splendid form. 

Fragrant. Prune moderately. A seedling from Paul Neyron, and 

in every way, except size, superior to its parent. Not subject to 

disease. First class in every respect. 
Victor Hugo (H. P.). Brilliant crimson. Floriferous. Fragrant. 

Most attractive. It well repays extra care and cultivation. Vigorous. 

Prune hard. 


" When Epicurus to the world had taught 
That pleasure was the chiefesl good 
(And perhaps was i' the right, if rightly understood), 
His life he to his doctrine brought, 
And in a garden's shade that sovereign pleasure sought." 

— Abraham Cowley. 



TO DRAPE, to mantle, to conceal, to screen, to frame, to 
cover, to shade, to protect, to beautify, to transform — 
how may not vines be used ? How could beautiful garden 
pictures be made without them ? Lacking their grace and mellow- 
ing touch, many buildings would be intolerable eyesores, but with 
soft drapery over them their crudities are mercifully concealed 
Shady pergolas, leafy flowery arches, and pendant garlands from 
trees and over hedgerows make pictures complete in themselves. 
The returned traveller from England misses the ivy, probably, 
more than any other plant. There, its dark lustrous leaves clothe 
walls, houses, chimneys, outbuildings, tree trunks, banks, even the 
earth itself, with permanent green, toning the colour scale of every 
scene in town or country into richer, deeper harmony, clinging, as it 
were, to the very hearts of the people on their historic ruins, their 
churches and their literature. If the ubiquitous ivy were to be sud- 
denly exterminated, what a raw, glaring, red-brick England it would 
be ! Only when we realise what the Mother Country might look like 
stripped of it, and how lavishly blessed she is with it, do we pity our 
own poverty with no reliably hardy indigenous evergreen vine to 
take its place. From the artist gardener's standpoint it is one of 
our greatest lacks. True, the ivy will grow here, but only under 
certain conditions, and not as if it were really at home and altogether 
happy. The bright sunshine of Northern winters sometimes proves 
more damaging than our hot, dry summers, and even on the shady 
side of buildings, where it is always safest to plant it, it may be 


322 The American Flower Garden 

winter-killed after successfully reaching a chimney-top, won by 
ten years' climbing. While it seldom succumbs to frost in the 
Middle States, and never in the South, the protracted heat there 
curbs that half-wild luxuriance which characterises it abroad. 

However, let us plant it much more freely than we do ! Count- 
less opportunities to use it pass unheeded, either because we do not 
rightly estimate its great pictorial value, or we too readily accept 
its limitations. If we cannot use it everywhere, as the English do, 
at least we can find a place for it somewhere about every home. 
But the almost universal painted wooden house in this country dis- 
courages the attempt to grow ivy on its walls. Brick, stone and 
stucco are its proper supporters ; the coming building is to be made 
of concrete, we understand, and wherever one of these building 
materials occurs, there should the ivy cling. It does not make a 
house damp, for there is always a free circulation of air under the 
leaves; its aerial roots do not weaken walls, in spite of a popular 
notion to the contrary. In fact, the vine strengthens them. Many 
a ruin in England would have tumbled to the ground years ago had 
not the branching, tenacious ivy bound together the bricks or stones 
from which the mortar had crumbled away. 

Protection from the sun in winter, such as widths of matting 
or braided straw tacked over them afford, would keep our ivies 
permanently green even in sunny places or on very cold northern 
sites where, in any case, their roots should be covered with leaves 
or stable litter. A mulch to keep the roots cool and moist in summer 
when they need to be encouraged to delve for food, rich in humus, 
placed below them by the thoughtful gardener when he planted 
them, will carry the vines triumphantly through heat and drought. 
They delight in moisture, too. For shrubbery borders, the ivy, 
clipped wherever it strays beyond a ten-inch limit, makes a most 

vines 323 

effective edging. Used as a carpet under trees where no grass would 
grow, it thrives in dense shade like that other charming evergreen 
trailer, the little purple-flowered periwinkle seen in every old garden. 
Fallen leaves and snow afford sufficient protection to the ivy where 
it grows prostrate on the ground. Special emphasis is laid on our 
only evergreen vine, except the creeping spindle, because, for people 
who live in the country the year around, the ivy's value is greater by 
far than any other's. And it is equally important for city dwellers, 
redeeming the sordid ugliness of many buildings; yet London prob- 
ably contains more ivy than the whole North American continent. 
So nearly evergreen that it might be almost counted as such 
is Hall's honeysuckle, well worth growing if only for its deliciously 
fragrant flowers and, on their account, it is one of the most popular 
climbers in cultivation. It needs wire netting or a lattice to twine 
about, which makes it a practical vine for piazza posts and painted 
houses, as the woven wire or other support may have its staples 
loosened at the top and be laid back on the ground when the biennial 
coat of paint goes on the house. Honeysuckle is cheap enough to 
plant at every post in the chicken yard and afford shelter and shade 
for the fowls as well as a screen for their not always sightly runs. It 
is one of the few vines that will thrive at the seashore, and it blooms 
all summer there because of the moisture in the cool air. Cold and 
want it can endure like a good soldier, but it well rewards a little 
care, especially thinning out of its old wood when the exuberant 
vine begins to smother itself with foliage. It is one of the best 
carpets we have for raw banks, and rooting as it runs along over the 
earth, as honeysuckle always does when growing wild, it is an 
excellent soil binder on steep slopes. Whenever it finds a support- 
ing stem to twine around, up it goes into a bush or tree and tosses 
into the air long sprays of slender, tubular flowers set in pairs along 

324 The American Flower Garden 

the stem that, on opening at evening, are pure white and especially 
fragrant, to attract the night-flying moths; but after fertilisation, 
the corollas turn pale yellow. " Quite over-canopied with luscious 
woodbine" was a reference to the honeysuckle, not to our five- 
leaved ampelopsis, in Shakespeare's " Midsummer Night's Dream." 
There is a coral honeysuckle, too, that caters to the ruby-throated 
humming-bird, which " likes any colour at all so long as it 's red." 
This vine is particularly beautiful over rocks. 

Although not entirely evergreen either, the Japanese akebia 
opens its five-fingered leaves so early in the spring and retains them 
so late into the winter that one can hardly grudge it a resting time. 
Its early flowers are insignificant — small, curious, purplish, spicily 
fragrant affairs — and it seldom fruits in this country; but it is very 
hardy, it is free from the attacks of worms and caterpillars, it grows 
rapidly and its foliage is charming. One admirer of the vine, which 
is by no means so much used as its merits deserve, speaks enthusi- 
astically of the delicate silhouettes that its palmate leaflets form 
against a moonlit sky where he sees them embowering his porch. 
I know an old red picket fence around a farmhouse that is surpris- 
ingly effective because of its akebia drapery. Native clematis 
flings white, fleecy festoons over the vines' dark background in 
autumn. It does not resent a near neighbour. 

Exquisite airy grace characterises most of the lovely clematis 
clan. To frame landscape pictures seen from porches and cover 
trellis and pergolas with clouds of misty bloom in early autumn, 
no vine can outdo the variety paniculata. Flammula is choice, it is 
deliciously fragrant, its bloom at midsummer is most welcome, 
but its constitution is rarely robust. It usually seems like the fragile 
sister of the family. The brilliant red-cupped coccinea is never 
more effective, perhaps, than when used with the fleecy flowered 

Vines 325 

kinds. Until one's attention is called to it, no one would believe 
how common is the custom of planting the large-flowered purple 
Jackman's clematis against red-brick buildings. Yet, when it 
spreads its royal bloom over them, nothing in the great range of 
garden possibilities is more excruciatingly awful. On a gray- 
shingled house or among the lacy foliage of a bowery pergola, the 
blossoms have a chance to show how really handsome they are. 
One of the most beautiful effects with clematis is remembered by 
any European traveller who has had the good fortune to be in 
Normandy when sprays of the white, foamy flowers of the native 
wild species toss themselves from the sombre green of the pine trees 
in the coniferous forests. Our Virgin's bower rarely, if ever, climbs 
so high. But it flings out the right hand of good fellowship to every 
bush and low tree in the roadside thicket and hedgerow, and the 
feathery styles of its pistillate plants form hoary masses, more 
attractive than its flowers. Possibly the Japanese paniculata, which 
grows so luxuriantly here, could be induced to festoon our pines 
and hemlocks, but, so far as I know, the experiment has never 
been tried. 

No one need be urged to use Veitch's ampelopsis, or Japanese 
ivy; already it is one of our most over-planted garden staples. The 
delicate traceries of its fresh young growth, clinging by little adhesive 
disks at the tips of its pink fingers to the sustaining wall, and its 
shining new leaves, that look as if they were covered with varnish, 
are undeniably pretty. The large overlapping leaves of older 
growth conceal, in time, any surface, rough or smooth, they may 
grow against, but the danger is lest they become too dense. Only 
when they occur on brick factories is one grateful if they do. Heavy 
and mat-like foliage effects are rarely wanted on dwellings, except 
on large ones, and chiefly about the foundations and lower walls of 

326 The American Flower Garden 

those. A vine-smothered house is most attractive to those pesti- 
ferous bird neighbours, the quarrelsome, dirty English sparrows, 
which is a sufficiently good excuse, if an aesthetic reason were 
rejected, for keeping this vigorous creeper clipped within bounds. 
There would seem to be no limit to its aspirations: a single plant 
has covered a stone retaining-wall over one hundred and fifty feet 
long and twenty feet high in twelve years. Because it has lofty 
ambitions, the vine is admirably suited to climb tall and leggy trees 
whose lower branches have died. Trunk and limbs are speedily 
overspread with its green mantle, gracefully fringed where the 
young shoots sway in the breeze from the tips of the branches. 
Planted on unsightly telegraph and telephone and trolley poles that 
disfigure the modern landscape, it takes off their curse for six months 
at least. The ampelopsis is rampant, it is ubiquitous; but when 
autumn sets it aglow with superb colour, as brilliant as the maple's, 
few would deny that it is the best all-around vine we have. As it loses 
its leaves in winter, giving any possible dampness they may have 
gathered a long chance to dry, there can be no reasonable objection 
to using it anywhere. As a matter of fact the wood and paint that 
have had the protection of its leaves all summer are found to be in a 
fresher condition than the exposed parts, a popular belief to the 
contrary notwithstanding. Would that all our prejudices might 
be so easily disproved! 

Instead of chopping down a dead tree on your grounds, try 
draping it with the native five-leaved ampelopsis or Virginia 
creeper, which delights to scramble over rocks, banks and bushes 
and up into trees, living or dead, wherever it grows wild in Nature's 
garden. Of looser, lighter, more graceful habit than its Japanese 
cousin, and better adapted to free effects, the naturalistic treatment 
best suits this vine that is much used on houses, nevertheless. It 

Vines 327 

does not suffocate, it is airy, and its pendant sprays that hang from 
a veranda give a softening touch to hard architectural lines. It 
makes the poor man's cottage or cabin picturesque, and it costs 
nothing beyond the labour of digging it. On the rich man's per- 
gola its graceful sprays, swaying in the breeze from the beams 
overhead, are as effective as those of its relative, the wild grape, 
which is one of the very best vines we have for Italian arbours. 

A climbing tree in itself is the wistaria, one of the greatest of 
the many treasures that have come to us from the Far East. Some 
superb old specimens in Japan have trunks two feet or more in 
diameter. To complete a picture of mellow age there is nothing 
comparable to a fine old vine. Its decorative effect means far more 
than mere ornament. As about seven years must elapse before a 
newly planted young wistaria will bloom, it is a great advantage 
to start with vigorous roots without a tangle which will produce 
wonderful growth if put in rich soil and given an abundance of 
water. A friend who transplanted a gigantic vine from an old 
house to his new one was convinced that what the wistaria chiefly 
suffers from is a lack of moisture, so he invented a novel method of 
supplying it. A bottle sunk in the earth and fed from a hose over- 
flowed into the soil about the roots only as fast as the water seeped 
away or was absorbed by the vine, and no faster. The wistaria 
never knew it had been moved, although it was not brought up on 
the bottle until it had reached its second childhood. 

Commonly trained around piazza and pergola pillars (which it 
sometimes weakens), over arches and fences and along walls — 
and it could not be less than charming anywhere — this best of 
flowering vines never appears to greater advantage than when 
grown to trail its way at will among trees, for it has a half-wild 
luxuriance that seems to call aloud for naturalistic picturesque 

328 The American Flower Garden 

treatment. Of all the hosts on which it pensions itself, perhaps none 
is better suited to it than the locust tree. Before foliage appears on 
the locusts they are hung with long festoons of the wistaria's light 
lavender-blue racemes looped from branch to branch and from tree 
to tree in sweet profusion. A long line of such trees, such as one fre- 
quently sees along the boundaries of old Quaker homesteads on Long 
Island, where the locust abounds, is an enchanting sight. Later, as 
the wistaria begins to fade, the locust leaves appear, and by June the 
trees are again in bloom, but this time with white racemes of their 
own deliciously fragrant, papilionaceous flowers. As the wistaria 
and its host have similar pinnate foliage, it is difficult indeed to tell 
where the vine's leaves off and the tree's begins. When the white 
wistaria is used, even the blossoms on tree and vine are similar. 

In planting the wistaria, or any vine, for that matter, to run up 
into a tree, do not set it close to the trunk, but at quite a distance 
from it, and layer the stem, letting several yards of it lie under 
ground before beginning to climb. Lay it in a trench filled with 
plenty of good food all its own. One could never hope to grow the 
wistaria among pines, as it tosses and tumbles with abandoned 
grace in Japan, lighting up the sombre trees until they fairly drip 
lovely colour and fragrant bloom, unless the vines were rooted 
beyond the harmful effects of the resinous pine needles. 

Another hard-wooded vine from Japan is Celastrus orbiculatus, 
a relative of our less lusty bittersweet and, like it, best adapted to 
naturalistic effects on trees or hedgerows where its generous pendant 
clusters of coral capsules hang cheerfully all winter. 

Among woody vines none, except the wistaria, is more valuable 
than the trumpet creeper. One wants it if only to attract humming- 
birds to sip nectar continually from its deep orange-red tubes. 
How they dart and squeak among the flowers! But the seed that 

Vines 329 

they play an important part in fertilising should be kept cut if the 
vine is to have a long succession of bloom. Red is irresistibly 
attractive to the ruby-throat, and orange scarcely less so, perhaps 
for the sake of the red that is mixed with the yellow. Such flowers 
as need the tropical sprite to transfer their pollen wear his favourite 
colours, but even this delicate attention is not enough. He demands 
that his refreshment be served to him in tubes so deep or inaccessible 
that only his long tongue, which may be extended far beyond his 
rapier-like bill, may lick the last drop of nectar away from his rivals 
the humble-bees, butterflies and moths. First the long-spurred red 
and yellow columbine, the painted cup, the coral honeysuckle, the 
jewel weed, the Oswego tea and the native trumpet creeper feed 
him successively in Nature's garden; then the cardinal flower has 
the honour of catering to the exacting midget before he returns to 
the tropics. Such flowers as gladioli, cannas, honeysuckle, nastur- 
tium and salvia keep him busy about our gardens until after frost. 
There are some exquisitely tinted large-flowered hybrid trumpet 
vines whose aerial roots will not loosen the shingles on buildings 
as those of the more vigorous Tecoma radicans sometimes do. 
They are particularly beautiful grown over rocks. Like the wista- 
ria, this vine is sometimes used as a lawn specimen by attaching a 
single leading stem to a stout stake, cutting away all lower, sucker- 
ing shoots and pruning back the top of the leader to a height of 
three feet to insure strong lateral branches. Before the stake rots 
away, the woody vine will have developed a trunk of its own capable 
of self-support. To make a superbly effective informal hedge, set 
out a long line of vines thus attached to stakes set three feet apart in 
light, rich soil, and keep the wilful lateral branches pruned back and 
attached to galvanised wire strung from stake to stake until, in a few 
years, they become independently woody. As time goes on, the 

330 The American Flower Garden 

hedge grows increasingly beautiful, a dense wall of clean, handsome 
foliage and gorgeous flowers. It is a heritage one is proud to 
bequeath to one's children. 

But not every one who wishes for the transforming results of 
vines may plant for permanent effects; and, even when these are 
planned for on new places, it is desirable to use some annuals for 
quick results. On rented places a special vine may be needed for 
one season only. Even in the midst of permanent planting it is 
pleasant to have variety from year to year. 

If a vine be wanted to cover a porch or a high board fence in 
the shortest possible time, try the Kudzu. It is a twiner and needs 
wire or strings. Given good soil and plenty of water and sunshine, 
it will grow fifty feet in a season. When a dense screen is needed 
on a kitchen porch that is not always so tidy as it should be, or one 
for a lattice around a drying ground, the Kudzu is invaluable. 

Another very rapid grower is the cup-and-saucer vine {Cobaa 
scandens), that would climb to a tree-top before frost catches it if 
long enough strings might be supplied. Before its rather heavy- 
looking cups finally turn purplish plum colour they pass through 
green and lavender transitional phases. The San Salvador coboea 
has many-lobed, light-green leaves, lying flat, that introduce a wel- 
come colour note in the scale of greens. Seed should be sown at 
least three inches apart in the hotbed in order that the roots of 
young vines may not be needlessly disturbed when they are lifted 
on a trowel and transplanted to the open ground after settled warm 
weather comes. 

Jack's beanstalk probably grew no faster than some of the 
gourds. All their astonishing growth must be accomplished 
between the frosts of spring and autumn, as not a breath can they 
endure. For covering unsightly outbuildings, fences and palings, 

Vines 331 

they accomplish wonders. Every old well used to have a gourd 
dipper hanging beside it; every housewife in the olden time darned 
stockings over a gourd. Some of the fruit grows to enormous size. 
Negro cabins in the Southern States often have large hollow gourds, 
with a side entrance cut in them, hanging from poles in the door- 
yard. Purple martins nest in these vegetable houses. The people 
know that where these handsome swallows once take up their abode 
the air is rid of innumerable mosquitoes, gnats and other insect 
pests caught on the wing as the birds dart and skim about in an 
ecstasy of flight. 

Ash and garbage cans at the back door may be quickly con- 
cealed under a canopy of the wild cucumber vine's pretty leaves and 
feathery greenish white flowers. The Japanese hop skips and 
jumps up strings too, and its large, handsome leaves, splashed with 
white, are more decorative than some flowers. But if flowers are 
wanted, rich-coloured gay ones in greatest profusion, everyone 
plants the tall nasturtium. Rich soil is wasted on it, as it induces 
the vine to run to leaves. In cutting nasturtiums to brighten the 
house — and they light up north rooms like sunshine — do not be 
afraid to cut a quarter of a yard or more of stem. Branches grow 
again steadily and bloom till after frost if no seed be permitted to 
form. A mass of the gorgeous flowers alone is colour overdone — 
too much of a very good thing — but when nasturtiums are arranged 
just as they grow with stems, disk-like glaucous leaves and seed 
vessels attached, no spoils brought from the garden into the house 
are more decorative. They are lasting, too. Draped over stone 
walls the flower-decked vine shows to splendid advantage. 

Let no one forego growing the perennial butterfly pea because 
it takes some trouble to start it. Seed should be soaked overnight 
in warm water to hasten germination before it is planted, three 

332 The American Flower Garden 

inches apart, in a hotbed. After a good beginning the young 
vines may be given a permanent place in the garden, with a wire 
netting or pea brush to climb up. Or well-started vines can be 
bought from a nursery. They may attain a height of ten feet in 
rich, moist soil, and if mulched and well watered during hot weather 
they will be covered with exquisite flowers like so many little butter- 
flies fluttering over them. Although hardy, the roots need some 
protection in winter. Planted in groups at the back of perennials 
in the hardy border, the peas look more sightly scrambling over 
brush, which they presently conceal, than over wire. 

On the shady side of a house, in cool, rich soil, anyone who 
knows it will wish to grow the Alleghany vine, fumitory, or moun- 
tain fringe (Adlumia), as it is variously called, if not for the sake 
of the arching sprays of its delicate little pink flowers, like miniature 
bleeding hearts that have bled themselves almost white, then for 
its exquisite foliage, as finely cut as maiden-hair fern. It is a bien- 
nial, but when once established it sows itself, stooling the first 
summer and the next year climbing swiftly up string or trellis, 
which it festoons with lacy foliage of the tenderest green. But it 
is in the rock garden, perhaps, that the fumitory appears at its best. 
Planted in rich crevices in shaded places it drapes the stern boulders 
with delightfully contrasted delicacy and grace. Of all the vines, 
surely this is the daintiest. 

Shrubby and Herbaceous Vines 

The best of the annual vines, including Nasturtium, Sweet Pea, Coboea, Hyacinth 
Bean, Morning Glory, Moon Flower, Balloon Vine, Cypress Vine, raised from seed each 
year, are described in the list of annuals. (See page 246.) 

Akebia (Akebia quinatd). Best deciduous shrubby vine where dense 
shade is not wanted. Five-partite leaves, rich deep green, with 
clusters of brownish purple flowers in May, June. Quite hardy and 
free from insects and fungi. Prefers well-drained, peaty soil. 

Vines 333 

Alleghany Vine (Adlumia cirrhosa). Very quick-growing biennial. 
Flowering first season. Delicately cut foliage like maidenhair fern. 
Pinkish white flowers in profusion in summer. Give cool soil. 
Transplant in fall. A weakling, requiring attention in training. 

Ampelopsis. See Ivy, Boston, and Virginia Creeper. 

Bittersweet, False (Celastrus scandens). Best for bright fruit effects 
in winter, succeeding in shady or sunny position. Capsule bursts, 
exposing crimson seeds. Attains a height of 20 feet. Propagates 

easily by seeds sown in fall. , Japanese (C. orbiculatus). 

More vigorous, but fruits are hidden by foliage till late. 

Canary-Bird Vine (Tropceolum peregrinum). Best annual yellow- 
flowered vine. Attaining 20 feet in hot, sunny location, and 
on dry ground. For bloom from July till frost sow indoors in March. 

Cinnamon Vine, Yam (Dioscorea divaricata). Loose clusters of cinna- 
mon-scented white flowers, borne profusely. July, August; 10 to 30 
feet. Root a huge tuber, 2 to 3 feet long. Tubers produced in the 
leaf axils, and sown like seeds, will make root tubers in two years. 

Clematis, Japanese (C. paniculata). Best fall-blooming clematis for full 
sun. Profusion of white, fragrant flowers in September. Visited by 

bees. Prune severely in winter. , Jackman's (C. J ackmani) . 

Best purple-flowered vine. Blooms 4 to 6 inches across. June, 
July. Also numerous varieties, varying to white and red-purple. 

The best white form is C. Henryi. August, November. , 

Red (C. Viorna, var. coccined). Carmine or scarlet sepals. 
June, August. Flowers globular, about 1 inch long. All the clem- 
atises need heavy feeding and abundant water and severe pruning. 
See also Virgin's Bower. 

Creeping Spindle (Euonymus radicans). Evergreen. Compact grow- 
ing, self-supporting on walls, trees, etc. Resists smoke. Hardier 
than English ivy, but slower growing. Very variable in size and 
colouring. Grows to great heights. 

Crimson Glory (Vitis Coignetice). One of the best strong-growing 
vines, much like the fox grape, but becoming brilliant scarlet in 
fall. Best raised from seeds. 

Dutchman's Pipe (Artstolochta macrophylla or Sipho). Best very large 
leaved vine for dense shade. Use for screens or arbours. Almost 
round leaves about a foot across. Flowers V-shaped, purplish- 

334 The American Flower Garden 

yellow, not showy. Grows anywhere, and attains great length. 
Vigorous grower. 

Fire Bean (Phaseolus multiflorus). The scarlet runner bean. Racemes 
of bright scarlet flowers in June, July. Fruits edible, and usually 
grown as a vegetable in Europe. A tender annual with us although 
normally perennial. Sow when ground is warm. 

Gourds (Various species of Cucurbita, etc.). There are a great number 
of these grown for their brightly coloured and often fantastically 
formed fruits. They are all rather coarse, rank-growing annuals 
that will not endure frost at any time. Sow in rich ground after 
weather is warm. Give support. Good for quick screens and 
unsightly places. 

Grape (Vitis vulpind). The river bank or frost grape. Most wide- 
spread native grape. Bright green, thin leaves. Good for pergolas. 

, Fox {V. Labrusca). Stronger growing, with hairy young 

shoots. Larger, thicker leaves, almost round, dull green; brown 

Honeysuckle (Lonicera Penclymenum, var. Belgica). Most fragrant 
flowering deciduous vine for arbours and trellises. Flowers reddish 
all summer. The type blooms from June to September; yellowish 
white and less vigorous. Var. serotina blooms in the fall. 

, Hall's (L. Japonica, var. Halliana). Half evergreen. 

Flowers white, changing to yellow. The type blooms June, August; 

15 feet. Naturalised in some places. (var. aureo-reticulatd). 

Smaller leaves, netted yellow; sometimes used for ground cover, 
becoming a weed. Good for walls and fences. 

Hop, Perennial (Humulus Lupulus). Common hop, growing 15 to 
20 feet. Effective when in fruit. Bold, palmate foliage, dark green. 

Herbaceous top, dying down annually. , Japanese (H. 

Japonicus). See Annuals, p. 249. 

Hydrangea, Climbing (Scbizopbragma hydrangeoides). Flower white in 
large, flat clusters when fully exposed to the sun. May, June; 30 feet. 
Very showy, often confused with Hydrangea petiolaris. Clings by 
aerial rootlets. Hardy at New York. Rich, moderately moist soil. 

Ivy, Boston or Japanese (Ampelopsis tricuspidata or Veitchii). Best 
deciduous clinging vine for buildings. Sometimes injured in winter 
when young. Very highly coloured in fall. Rapid growing. Leaves 

Vines 335 

normally entire, but occasionally three-partite. , English 

(Hedera Helix). Best evergreen foliage vine, but liable to winter 
killing in exposed places north; flourishes with slight shelter. 
Dense mass of foliage. Self-sustaining. Any soil. Numerous 
varieties, varying in size of leaf and colouring; some quite dwarf. 

Jasmine, Sweet (Jasminum nudiflorum). Earliest flowering slender 
vine. Fragrant, large yellow flowers before the leaves. March, 
April. Not hardy North. Native in the Southern States. — — (J. 
officinale). White, in summer. Requires protection at Philadelphia. 

Kudzu Vine (Pueraria Thunbergiana). Best very rapid growing 
foliage vine with herbaceous top. Will cover enormous stretches 
in a season. Makes a dense screen. Plant the tubers deeply. In 
the South the top becomes woody. 

Matrimony Vine (Lycium Chinense). 12 feet. Ovate leaves, bright 
green, 3 inches long with scarlet fruits. Has been used as a hedge 

on a wire trellis. (L. halimifolium). Less vigorous, smaller, 

grayish green; fruit orange. 

Moneywort (Lysimachia nummularia). Evergreen ground cover. 
Good for banks and rocks. Sometimes a weed in lawns. Light 
green, nearly round foliage, half inch across, with profusion of cup- 
shaped yellow flowers in summer. 

Mountain Spurge (Pachysandra terminalis). Evergreen, with yellowish 
green, thick leaves, slightly toothed. Good for undergrowth in 
shrubberies. Flowers white, in small terminal spikes in May. 
Attractive to bees. 

Myrtle. See Periwinkle (below.) 

Partridge Berry (Mitcbella repens). The only hardy evergreen that 
carpets the ground and bears bright red berries all winter, and 
lasting till June. Native to the woods, but can be bought from the 
nurserymen. Shady places. 

Pea, Everlasting (Lathyrus latifolius and grandiflorus). See Her- 
baceous Perennials, p. 226. 

Periwinkle, Trailing Myrtle (Vinca minor). Will hold steep ter- 
races. Ideal ground cover in dense shade, and where grass fails 
under trees. Purplish blue flowers in spring. Evergreen. Escaped 
from cultivation, and plentiful near old-time settlements. Several 

33 6 The American Flower Garden 

Scarlet Runner. See Fire Bean. 

Silver Vine {Actinidia arguta). Best arbour vine. Free from insects 
and fungi. Twining, not clinging. Leaves dark green, quite tough, 
with reddish petioles. Flowers greenish white in June, followed by 
yellow fruit with fig-like flavor. Easily increased by seeds, cuttings, 

or layers. (A. polygama). Flowering in July. Lighter green, 

often silvery, variegated above the middle. A pretty plant, but 
attracts cats. 

Silk Vine (Periploca Grceca). For arbours, trellis, and tree trunks. 
Fragrant flowers July, August, and retaining foliage to late in fall; 
40 feet. Dark green, shining. Any well-drained soil in sun. Hardy 
even in Canada, on the ground, in sun, with light protection. 

Trumpet Creeper (Tecoma radicans). Best orange-red flowered vine 
for arbours and rough places. Tubular flowers 4 to 6 inches long, 
in clusters. Will climb trees. Flowers only on parts exposed to 
sun. Beautiful varieties. 

Virgin's Bower {Clematis Virginiana). For covering old stumps, 
hedgerows, etc. Fragrant, white flowers in profusion in July. 
Light, loamy soil and on limestone, but well drained. 

Virginia Creeper {Ampelopsis quinquefolid). Most graceful deciduous 
vine for covering buildings, old trees and arbours. Perfectly hardy, 
thriving in any soil. Large, five-partite leaves. Usually needs train- 
ing, but some forms cling. Var. Engelmanni clings better, and is 
much brighter scarlet in fall. Not quite so coarse. 

Wild Potato, Man-of-the- Earth. See Herbaceous Plants, p. 224. 

Wistaria {Wistaria Chinensis). Best early flowering permanent vine. 
Foot-long racemes of delicately scented mauve, pea-like flowers in 
May, before the leaves. Climbs and twines easily. Attains great 
lengths. For walls, trellises, trees, houses. Failure of flower is 
usually due to combination of sun and frost in early spring. Second 
small crop of flowers in August. Does best when left severely alone. 
Prefers deep, rich soil, but will grow elsewhere. Propagates by 

layers. Also a white variety. {W. multijuga). Has racemes 

2 to 3 feet long, but smaller flowers. , American {W. speciosa). 

Has shorter racemes and is less vigorous; attaining to 40 feet. 

Woodbine {Lonicera Periclymenutri). See Honeysuckle. 


"And all without were walkes and alleys dight 
With divers trees enrang'd in even rankes; 
And here and there were pleasant arbours pight 
And shadie seats, and sundry flowering bankes 
To sit and rest the walkers' wearie shanks." 

— Edmund Spenser's " Faerie Queene. 



WHEN, in the exuberance of our joy at being released 
from the confines of the house in the spring we 
spend in the open air as much of every day as' we 
can until autumn storms and chilly winds drive us to our firesides 
again, garden furniture assumes practical importance to the home 
maker. Breakfasts and teas under a tree or leafy arbour imply com- 
fortable seats, at least, for families predisposed to prolong each meal 
with much conversation. A tendency on the women's part to carry 
all portable work out of doors — the hulling of strawberries,the shell- 
ing of peas, the arranging of flowers for the house, letter-writing, 
mending, and the superfluous but pretty needlework — these various 
occupations necessitate plenty of weather-proof chairs that are not 
too conducive to laziness, yet are comfortable enough not to precipi- 
tate flight. To have a charming garden and never be able to live in 
it, or even to sit down in the shade for a few peaceful moments to 
enjoy its beauty in different lights and atmospheres (the most 
potent factors of every garden picture), is to neglect a golden 
opportunity. A garden has need to be lived with on friendly, 
intimate terms if its interests are to be safeguarded and if the same 
taste which characterises the interior of the home is to be exercised 
in its surroundings where, unhappily, the gardener's, alone and 
undirected, is too often expressed. Where a garden lacks an 
appreciative master or mistress of intelligence and taste it is apt 
to be no more inviting than a house without one. Such ever 
lacks personality and soul. 


340 The American Flower Garden 

In this busy country gardening is regarded as of interest 
chiefly to women of leisure, and to them, for the most part, it is left; 
whereas in England especially, but on the Continent, too, one 
rarely meets an educated man, and almost never a gentlewoman, 
not intelligently, usually actively interested in gardens, and as 
ready to discuss them at the dinner-table as to talk about the 
latest play or novel. The Europeans live in their gardens, and 
have wondrously beautiful ones in which, as a rule, they take 
keen interest and just pride. Very fast are we following in their 

When the pioneer in Colonial times sat on the stump of the 
tree he had felled to rest and enjoy the view, he had as comfort- 
able a seat as many of his wealthy descendants still provide in their 
gardens, if, indeed, they provide any at all. Most out-of-door 
furniture is hopelessly uncomfortable, crude, or inartistic — quite 
unnecessarily so, which is not to say that a split log laid between 
two trees for a seat in a wild garden is not everything it ought to 
be. But a little more thought expended on a seat, a fountain, or 
other detail, seemingly trivial and unimportant, makes a surprising 
difference in the effect, and does much to lift a country home 
above the level of the commonplace. The furnishings need not 
be expensive, but they should be well adapted to their uses and 
they ought to be beautiful. 

Garden seats, like other out-of-door furniture, may be of either 
one of two kinds — made at home or manufactured to be sold. 
Both are possible to people of small means. The rustic garden seat, 
as commercially manufactured out of rough logs, contorted branches 
and twisted roots, with all their natural excrescences left on to 
torture the sitter, may be provided by a gentle, well-meaning little 
woman simply because it is everywhere offered for sale and she 

Garden Furniture 341 

assumes that it must be what is needed in her garden. Yet such 
a seat, placed in the hot sun, is about as comfortable as the gridiron 
on which St. Lawrence was broiled alive. However, simple, 
dignified rustic work may be made by the village carpenter out of 
small cedar logs, which are the most durable, or of arborvitae, or 
locust, or birch, whose respective merits are in the order named. 
Good design implies an absence of meaningless ornament. It 
means lines that suggest strength and comfort. Rustic arbours, 
trellises, rose arches, bird houses, and garden seats and tables for 
afternoon tea or breakfast out of doors, rustic frames for woven- 
wire back-stops on the tennis-court, all suggest informality and the 
naturalistic treatment of the home grounds. A rustic pergola next 
a house that is in the severely classic style of Colonial architecture 
would be an anachronism. But for a simple little country cottage 
or a house whose architecture is nondescript, rustic garden furni- 
ture may be not only the cheapest but the most appropriate and 
artistic that can be had. 

Any amateur who can use a saw and hammer can make a 
rustic arch to grow climbing roses on. A row of arches seen from 
end to end looks like a continuous bower of greenery. If a garden 
scene be flat or monotonous there is no better way to diversify it 
and give it charm than by using arches freely across the paths — 
never an isolated one on a lawn. Quick-growing annual vines will 
cover them while the permanent climbers are starting. Few vines 
do well on iron arches which bake in the hot sun. They are top- 
heavy, unlovely things and are apt to be loosened by the wind 
in many cases. They rust. But if they must be used for the 
sake of their strength, try to enclose them in a wooden lattice. No 
arch should be less than a yard across; a greater width is 
preferable, especially if a frame be needed through which an 

342 The American Flower Garden 

especially beautiful garden picture may be seen. A single broad 
bowery arch will lead the eye toward a distant vista as surely as a 
pointed finger. 

An Elizabethan half-timbered house, whose projecting beams 
are coated with tar and oil, has its wooden lattices that screen the 
drying ground and its arbour that is overhung with Wichuraiana 
roses, clematis and wild grape, coated with the same effective tar 
preservative which, however, cannot be used on seats lest it rub off 
on one's clothes. The seats for the garden around this house are 
built of sturdy oak planks left to weather-stain — one plank laid 
across four log uprights forms a seat; another narrower one, joined 
by large oak dowels to two of the tall upright posts, serves for a 
back. Although cedar and locust rot less readily than other wood 
used in gardens, even these are greatly benefited by having the 
ends of the posts that are sunk in the earth dipped in tar. 

Spar varnish as well as tar oil preserves rustic and wooden 
work that is exposed to the weather; moreover, it does not conceal 
the natural colour and grain of the wood and it protects it from 

Not long ago a man, who was brought before a judge for 
some petty offence, was asked his occupation. 

" Boring worm holes with hot wire in antique furniture, Your 
Honour," said the prisoner at the bar. 

Worm holes in rustic furniture never increase its value, however, 
even to the unwary; on the contrary, they may utterly destroy it. 
The popular hickory chairs and settees for camps, piazzas and 
rustic summer houses, need varnish especially, for they usually 
contain occupants other than human. If little piles of sawdust 
form daily on the floor under the spots where the borers are 
tunnelling nursery holes for destructive descendants in the 








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Garden Furniture 343 

furniture, a small hand syringe should be filled at once with a 
strong carbolic wash to be injected into the holes before the 
varnish is applied. 

Old English gardens, and the copies of them that were made 
in this new land during Colonial times, usually contained a few 
choice pieces of wooden furniture that were painted white to cor- 
respond with the pillars, cornices, railings, pilasters and other trim 
of the dwelling. Delightfully designed and comfortable set- 
tees, some with lattice patterns like Chinese fret-work on their 
backs, and smooth slats for seats that shed the rain; straight 
settees to place against a hedge at the end of a direct garden walk, 
or on either side of the front door on the porch; semi-circular 
settees for niches in garden walls or at the turn of a curved path; 
circular settees to go around the trunk of a tree that afforded shade 
or a fine view — all these were counted desirable accessories of a 
garden about a house built in the Georgian or Colonial style. 
Happily such seats are being manufactured again to-day, the exact 
copies of good old models. When soiled, they may be scrubbed 
and finally repainted. They are heavy and do not overturn in 
storms. If they can be given a permanent position — and no 
seat should ever be placed permanently where there is not either 
a pleasant prospect, shade, or some other good reason for its being 
there — it pays to lay a few bricks or a shallow bed of concrete 
where the seats rest on the soil, lest dampness injure them in time. 
Such seats look best with a dark hedge or shrubbery for a back- 
ground against which the pattern of the white lattice at their backs 
stands out in high relief. They are also appropriate and beautiful 
in pergolas, since they, too, had their origin in Italy. But they 
imply a certain formality of house and garden treatment, and are 
as much out of place next a very modern-looking house or where 

344 The American Flower Garden 

half wild or naturalistic planting come close to the doors as a patent 
swing would be in an old-fashioned garden. Fitness is a factor 
in giving pleasure. 

The Colonial lattice of many patterns is, perhaps, seen at its 
best about Southern houses. An elaborately illustrated chapter 
might be devoted to the infinite variety of the lattice alone. 
Where it is used for porches, galleries, fences, screens, well en- 
closures, summer houses and garden furniture generally, it has a 
decorative value none may gainsay. 

Wood is the most popular material for out-of-door furniture, 
chiefly because it may be adapted to various styles; it can be made 
up artistically and it is cheap, but comparatively few gardeners have 
any idea of the charming and varied uses to which lattices may be 
put aside from screening off unsightly places and affording a foot- 
hold for vines. Iron can rarely be introduced into a garden unless 
it be handsomely wrought into grills for gates or frames for lanterns 
at an entrance, or used for arches to support roses and other 
climbers, as has been said. The iron mushroom seats painted white 
or green that are often seen in public parks; the comfortless settees 
made of painted iron slats, usually rusty and destructive of clothes ; 
the iron chairs with alleged decorations of iron grape-vines ; the iron 
figure of a little Negro boy holding out a ring to tie a horse to; iron 
urns that afford the scarlet geraniums and magenta petunias a 
rarely lost opportunity to swear at each other; the iron fountain 
where a child holds a rusty iron umbrella over its head to catch 
the spray; the iron deer that stands at bay amid harmless flower 
beds on a suburban lawn — these and all their awful kind are 
rubbish for the junk heap, intolerable eyesores to people of taste. 
Would that they might be banished forever from the American 
flower garden! 


Garden Furniture 345 

In Tuscany, hard-baked clay most exquisitely designed and 
wrought into garden seats, sun-dial mounts, fountains, vases, big 
pots for bay trees and smaller jardinieres for porches and window 
gardens, well-heads and decorative devices for garden walls, are 
still manufactured from Renaissance and ancient classical models. 
Florence, which remains the centre of this craft in terra cotta after 
centuries of supremacy, exports quantities of her charming wares 
to America. Mrs. Watts, the widow of the Royal Academician, 
conducts a village industry for the manufacture of similar work 
at Guilford, England; and in this country, where we have an infinite 
variety of beautiful clays, a few potteries, not so well patronised as 
they should be, are beginning to supply the home market with 
pieces of original design. Red terra cotta is never conciliatory with 
flowers, but for evergreens it is especially effective. Some great 
pots of biscuit-coloured clay, three feet in diameter, with a simple 
Aztec arrow design about their top, hold shapely specimens of 
pyramidal boxwood at a garden entrance. They were made at a 
woman's pottery in New Jersey. After the sprinklings of a single 
summer they took on a mossy tone. Cecil Rhodes used forty 
similar pots for blue hydrangeas in his famous garden at Cape 
Town, South Africa. 

Garden furniture in stone and marble is an indulgence for 
the wealthy only. Somehow marble looks harder and colder in 
our country than in sunny Italy where, weather-worn and harmoni- 
ous though it be, a dark background of ilex, cypress, or other 
evergreen is invariably given it; but it could be Used here much 
oftener and more effectively than it is, especially in Southern and 
California gardens, were imported pieces sold less absurdly high 
and if a proper setting for them might be furnished. A single 
piece of marble statuary, like Elihu Vedder's charming figure of a 

346 The American Flower Garden 

youth upholding a bronze bowl to catch the splash from the fountain 
in Mr. Louis Tiffany's garden, has a reason for existence, and it suf- 
fices on a large estate of remarkable beauty. But to clutter a garden 
with marble figures and mutilated fragments of antiques from a 
New York auction room in the misguided belief that such are 
essential to an American garden designed in the Italian style is 
"good taste misplaced." 

Old English formal gardens contained much lead statuary 
which was counted more harmonious with the sombre landscape 
than white marble images. A craze for the curious figures has 
recently revived among our cousins across the sea, but it has 
little to feed upon because many were shipped to America as 
"works of art" during the Revolution and promptly melted into 
bullets here — probably the most effective use to which they were 
ever put. A very few that escaped the smelting pot are still extant 
in old New England and Southern gardens. 

Native stone of mellow colour makes admirable garden furni- 
ture and it ages well, which cannot be said of marble in our climate. 
Simple pieces in stone may be made at a not prohibitive cost by 
any good mason, working by the day — slab seats and tables for 
pergolas, sun-dial pedestals and low, broad steps, for example. 
Wherever stone and marble seats are used in shady places, portable 
cushions will surely be laid on them by the sensitive and the 
rheumatic. Elaborate ornaments for entrance gates, balustrades 
for terraces, fountains and vases will probably be secured by one's 
architect and seldom be home made, unless one can secure the ser- 
vices of some exceptionally skilful stone-cutter with an artistic eye 
who can be trusted to copy a picture or scale drawing. But Italian 
masons, expert in decorative work, are already numerous in this 
country, and more will be forthcoming. See to it that the replicas 

Garden Furniture 347 

of the urns and vases, if Greek and Roman models be used, have 
deeper bowls than most of them possess, and holes in the bottom for 
drainage, otherwise the plants set out in them on terraces, walls 
and balustrades will surely wither away. The brims should be 
smoothly rounded if they are not to cut the vines growing over 
the edge. Vases need not necessarily be used in pairs, even in the 
most formal of gardens. A replica of a splendid great Greek vase 
may well be given a niche to itself in the concave wall of a clipped 
evergreen hedge against which its faultless symmetry stands 
revealed in bold relief. To duplicate a dignified and satisfying 
ornament of this character is but to cheapen its effect. 

Everyone who may have a fountain in his garden should not 
deprive himself of the refreshing sound of its splashing waters, 
the mirror-like effect of its pool, the companionship of birds which 
it will bring close to his doorstep. Nothing attracts so many 
feathered neighbours as fresh water for them to bathe in and to 
drink — (they are not squeamish, they will drink their baths). 
Goldfish, which should live in every fountain basin to keep mos- 
quito larvae exterminated, may be tamed, as well as the birds, to 
eat out of one's hand. Robins, thrushes, cat-birds, brown-thrashers 
and mocking-birds, especially, are inveterate bathers and hard 
drinkers. No others are finer songsters. 

One cannot think of fountains without seeing on the inner 
eye visions of the superbly beautiful ones in Italy, the land of 
garden magic. At the Villa d'Este, where the use of fountains, 
cascades, canals, rivulets and pools would seem to have reached the 
pinnacle of possibility, thanks to the abundant water supply of the 
river Anio, there is a studied simplicity in the midst of grandeur 
which it would be well to follow in gardens large or small. No 
posing mermaids combing their hair, no spouting dolphins, no 

348 The American Flower Garden 

Dianas surprised at the bath, detract from the central point of 
interest in these fountains — just a single jet of water tossed high 
into the air — forty or fifty feet in the larger ones — and falling in 
clouds of misty spray among the towering cypresses and pink acacias 
in the surrounding groves. Everywhere is water in motion — the 
same water utilised over and over again — now sparkling and pris- 
matic in the sunshine, now deep and dark in pools that reflect the 
exquisite colours of the surrounding vegetation or the moss-grown 
balustrades on the lofty terraces that rise tier upon tier up the 
steep, verdant hillside. Whoever owns even a little brook and a 
little cottage on a hill and a little money to invest in joy will wish to 
play with some of the ideas for garden making that crowd his 
mind as he strolls through the grounds designed by Cardinal 
Ipolito d'Este, the master gardener of his day. For the principles 
of art are of well nigh universal application. 

Happily for those to whom stone work and marble are pro- 
hibitively costly, there are now made in this country some admirable 
reproductions of classical models in artificial stone that withstand 
frost. The fountain of conventionalised lions that is the central 
feature of a small circular garden in a carriage turn-around, 
illustrated in the second chapter of this book, is made of a con- 
crete composition that is as practical as it is effective and inexpen- 
sive, having weathered five winters without showing a crack. A 
village carpenter made the moulds for the round basin into which 
concrete was poured to dry and harden in the sun. Garden fur- 
nishings in artificial stone — Pompeiian tablets, Roman chairs, 
Greek vases, Italian fountains, pergola columns, balustrades, 
well-heads, ornaments for entrance gates and garden walls, sun- 
dial mounts, big decorative pots for flowers, clipped boxwood, 
bay and formal evergreen trees, may all be bought so cheaply that 



,/Sm ' . 

*• 4 

■ i ■ 

\ '•■" " r ■*-•■■- 

' :. 

, . 





^ s 

Garden Furniture 349 

no one who can afford the luxury of architecture in the classic 
style for house and garden need forego a coveted piece for their 
embellishment. Even the stone lantern, without whose saving 
presence to frighten away evil sprits no Oriental man with a hoe 
would be content to work in a Japanese garden, is now repro- 
duced in an artificial material so durable as to almost defy 
detection. From the old-fashioned garden, however simple, 
the sun-dial need not be missing when standards like the best 
ones designed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries may 
be bought for ten dollars or less. 

Quite suddenly and violently, as is our wont, have Americans 
taken to pergolas: every type of house and garden in this broad 
land now boasts one. Many are meaningless, leading from no 
place in particular to no place in particular; opening up no vista 
through leafy arches toward a beautiful view; sheltering no cosy 
breakfast or tea table ; inviting no one to rest awhile on comfortable, 
shady seats; growing no especially beautiful vines (usually the 
crimson rambler to the exclusion of every other one) ; extending 
no architectural lines that end too abruptly; tying no building to 
the surrounding garden or landscape — having, in short, no well- 
thought-out reason for their existence. Following fashion blindly is 
a weakness not confined to clothes. But how exceedingly beautiful 
is the well-made, well-placed, vine-clad pergola! 

Its forerunner in old-fashioned gardens, the alley of pleached 
or braided trees that afforded our ancestors a cool retreat on a hot 
day, a fragrant bowery to stroll through on a summer evening, has 
been almost wholly superseded by this recent innovation. The 
Italian word "pergola" itself means a certain kind of grape; but it 
soon came to be applied to the rough-and-ready arbours over which 
the vine was grown — stones of all sizes picked up in the vineyard 

350 The American Flower Garden 

and piled dry into pillars on which was laid, as an open roof, a trellis 
of projecting poles. A temporary lattice between the pillars on 
the sides of the pergola was used, too, until the vines that were 
trained over it reached the roof, when the side poles were usually 
removed. Within the leafy pergola the hardy Italian peasant and 
his family spent many hours of every day, and the out-of-door living- 
room was nothing if not practical and picturesque. The pergola 
had long been enjoyed by the contadino's prosperous neighbours, 
who adopted it purely for its aesthetic value, not for the utilitarian 
purpose of growing grapes. In the great villas around the principal 
Italian cities it was constructed almost exclusively of stone, the mas- 
sive columns, plain or carved, were wreathed with flowering vines: 
passion flower, clematis and roses of every hue; the wooden cross- 
beams overhead festooned with swaying garlands none of which, 
however, wafted a fragrance so delicious as that of the blossoming 
grape. Along the leafy colonnade stone seats were placed. Much 
formal entertaining has been done in such an out-of-door reception 
room ; much happy family life is still passed in Italian pergolas far 
less pretentious. 

As the pergola may vary from the severe lines of the classic 
marble columns to the rough pillars of dry-laid field stone, stucco 
and rubble, or the knotty posts made of trees with their branches 
lopped off for the supports of its roof, it is adaptable to every kind 
of home conditions here. Only the Italian is an adept at utilising 
the materials lying next his hand. We have need to apply his 
methods, for the most picturesque effects are often attained with 
the simplest materials. Carving or other ornamentation on the 
columns enters into hopeless competition with the vines. 

Because it is adaptable to so many styles of houses and gardens, 
and may be made of whatever material best suits its surroundings 

Garden Furniture 351 

and the size of the owner's purse, and chiefly because it is as beau- 
tiful as it is useful and healthful, the pergola will not soon, if ever, 
disappear from this land of its adoption. A happier day is dawn- 
ing for Americans if they, like the Italians, may be enticed out of 
houses through leafy pergolas to spend more of every day under 
the open sky. 



Abies, see Fir 

Acacia, False, see Locust 

Rose, 175 
Acer, see Maple 

Achillea The Pearl (J. Ptaf 
mica f. pi. ), 226, 229. 
Millefolium, see Yarrow 
Aconite, Autumn {Aconitum 
autumnole), 216 
Winter {Eranlkis hyemalis), 273 
Aconitum autumnole, see Aconite, 
Napellus, see Monkshood, 225 
Acorus, see Iris 
Acttea, see Baneberry, 89 
Actinidia, see Silver Vine, 336 
Adam's Needle, see Spanish 

Bayonet, 229 
Adder's Tongue, see Dog*! 

Tooth Violet, 90 
Adlumia cirrhosa, see Alleghany 

Vine, 333 
Adonis Amurensis, 216 
Davurica, 216 
Spring (A. vernalis), 106 
Mgopodium Podograria, see Gout 
Weed, Bishop's Weed, 222 
Msculus, see Chestnut, Horse, 147 
Agapanthus umbellatus, see Lily 
Ageratum conyzoides, 243, 246 
Ajuga, see Bugle, 107, 218 
Akebia quinata, 324, 332 
Alder, 71, 86, 114, 166, 170 
Alleghany Vine {Adlumia cirrhosa), 

33 z > 333 
Alley, Pleached, 54, 55, 338 
Allium Neapolitanum, see Lily 
Almond (Primus Japonica), 144, 

173. »75 
Althaea, see Rose of Sharon, 183 

Rosea, see Hollyhock, 60 
Alum Root, see Coral Bells, 220 
Alyssum, Goldentuft {Alyssum 

saxatile), 108, 212 
Silvertuft {Alyssum argenteum), 

Sweet {Alyssum maritimum), 

no, 243, 245, 246, 263, 300 
Amaranth, Globe, see Bachelors' 

Amaranthus, Love-lies-bleeding 

{A. caudatus), 246 
Prince of Wales's Feather 

{A. hypochondriacus), 246 
Amaryllis BeIladonna,seeLily, 277 
Amelanchier, see Shadbush and 

Service Berry 
Amethyst (Browallia demi'ssa or 

/lata), 247 

Amorpha fruticosa, see Indigo, 

Bastard, 180 
Ampelopsis, see Ivy, 334 
Andromeda poll folia, see Rosemary 
Anemone, 47, 50, 207 

Japanese {A. Japonica), 106, 

196, 207, 212, 216 
Nemorosa, see Windflower 
Pasque Flower {A. Pulsatilla), 

Pennsylvanica, see Windflower 
St. Brigid {A. coronaria, var. 

St. Brigid), 106 
Wood Snowdrop, {A. sylves- 
tris), 106 
Angelica Tree, see Hercules Club, 

Annuals, 48, 233, 246 
Anthemis tinctoria, see Chamomile, 

46, 218 
Anthericum, see Lily, St. Bernard's, 

Antirrhinum majus, see Snap- 
dragon, 228 
Apios tuberosa, see Ground Nut, 

Apple, Crab, see Crab Apple, 147 
May, see May Apple, 93 
Tree, 74, 173 
Aquilegia, see Columbine 
Arabis albida, see Cress, White 

Aralia, see Hercules Club, 149 
Arborvite {Thuya occidentalis), 
I3S. '38. I39» '88, 297, 341 
George Peabody, 155 
var. globosa, 155; var. pyra- 
midalis, 139; Siberian, 155; 
var. Wareana, 155 
Arbours, 55, 338, 341 
Arbutus, Trailing (Epigaa repetts), 

84. 95. 

Arisama triphyllum, see Indian 
Turnip, Jack-in-the-Pulpit,92 

Aristolochia macrophylla or Sipko, 
see Dutchman's Pipe, 333 

Armeria maritima, see Sea Pink, 
27, 109 

Aronia, see Chokeberry, 166, 177 

Arrowhead, 86, 114, 120 

Arrow Wood {Viburnum dentatum), 

85. 175 , 

Arum, Water {Calla palustris), 129 
Aruncus Sylvester, see Goat's Beard, 

Arundinaria, see Bamboo, 285, 286 
Arundo Donax, see Reed, 287 
Aiarum Canadense, see Snakeroot, 


AscUpiaS) see Milkweed 
Ashberry, see Mahonia 
Ash, European (S. Aucuparia), 152 
Mountain(5or6«j Americana), 

»S». , 

Weeping {Fraxinus excelsior, 

var. pendula), 146 
Aster, 240, 242, 243, 245, 266 

China {Callistephus hortensis), 

56, 70, 247 
New England {A. Nova- 

Angl'ue), 83, 88, 106; var. 

rosea, 106 
New York {A. Novi Belgii), 

Smooth Blue {A. luevis), 88 
Stokes's, see Stokes's Aster 
White, 106 
Astilbe Japonica, see Spirea, 229, 

also Goat's Beard, False 
Aubrietia delto t idea, see Cress, 

Purple, 109 
Azalea, 73, 82, 83, 84, 86, 103, 169, 

170, 173, 174, 268, 270 
Carolina {A. Vaseyi), 175 
Ghent {A. Candavensis), 175 
Japan {A. mollis), 175 
Piniter Flower, Wild Azalea 

{A. nudifora), 82, 85, 175, 

Rhodora, {A. Canadensis), 183 
Showy {A. amana), 155 
White Clammy {A. viscosa), 

7'. 175 
WUd, 114 

Baby's 'Bitith{Gypsophila elegans), 
G. paniculata, 106, 216 
Baccharis halimifolia, see Ground- 
sel Bush, 179 
Bachelors' Buttons {Ranunculus 
Asiaticus), 273 
Buttercup {R. acris), 81 
Cornflower {Centaurea cyanus), 
57, 58, 82, 243, 244, 245, 248, 
Fair Maides of France, 57, 58 
Fair Maides of Kent, 58 
Globe Amaranth {Gomphrena 

globosa), 57, 59, 249 
Ragged Sailor, 58 
White, 58 
Balloon Flower {Platycodon grandi- 
fiorum), 217. See also Bell- 
flower ' 
Vine {Cardiospermum Halicaca- 
bum), 247, 332 



The American Flower Garden 

Balm, Bee {Monarda didyma), 86, 
89, 198, 207, 217 
Moldavian {Dracoeephalum 

Moldavicum), 217, 254 
Balsam (Impatient Balsamina), 57, 

240, 247 
Balsam Fir, 157 
Balustrades, 38, 346 
Bamboo, 119, 212, 270, 272 
Bambusa Meiake, 272, 285 
Black {Phylloslachys nigra), 

^ . 

Broad-leaved (Arundinarta 

Japonica), 285 
Fortune's (A.Fortunei),Y]Z, 286 
Golden stemmed {Phylloslachys 

aurea), 285 
Pigmy (Bambusa pygmcea), 272, 

Riviere's (Pkyllostachys vividi- 

glaucescens), 285 
Simon's (Arundinaria Simoni) t 
Bambusa, see Bamboo 
Baneberry, White (Actxa alba), 89 

Red (A. rubra), 89 
Baptisia tinctoria, see Indigo, Wild 
Barberry, 27, 84, 168, 173, 

Common (Berberis vulgaris),i88 

var. atropurpureus, 175 
Japanese (B. Thunbergii), 175, 
Bartonia (Mentzelia Lindleyi), 245, 

Bay, Bull, (Magnolia grandi~ 
for a), 155 
Sweet (Laurus nobilis), 27, 38, 
86, 101, 133, 156 
Bayberry, Wax Myrtle (Myrica 

cerijera), 89, 187 
Beard Tongue, see Pentstemon 
Bearseares, or French Cowslips, 47 
Beech, American (Fagus ferru- 
ginea), 141, 142, 146 
European (F '. sylvatica), 146, 188 
Fern-leaved (var. hetero- 

phylla), 146 
Rivers'sCopper(var. purpurea 

Riversi), 72, 144, 164 
Weeping (var. pendula), 146 
Begonia, 122, 241 

Hardy (B. Evansiana)ziy, 271, 

Tuberous (B. tuberosa), 270, 

Belemcanda Chinensis, see Lily, 

Bellflower (Campanula Carpatica), 

106, 217, 218, 227 
Bluebell or Harebell(C.ror«n<fr- 

folia), 57, 59, 85, 91, 105, 106 
Canterbury Bells (C Medium), 

48, 57, 207, 208, 209, 213, 241 
Hairy (C.Trachelium), 217 
Large-styled (C. macrostyla), 247 
Peach-leaved (C. persiexfolia), 

Wide-l»aved (C. latifolia), 218 

Bellis perer.nis, see Daisy, English 
Benzoin odoriferum, see Spice bush 
Berberis, see Barberry and Mahonia 
Bessera elegans, see Mexican Coral 

Drops, 278 
Betula, see Birch 
Birch, White (Betula alba), 71, 115, 

I4'» >45. '4 6 > 34 1 
Cut-leaved (var. pendula laci- 
niata), 146 
Bird Cherry, see Cherry, 143 
Bitter Buttons, see Tansy 
Bittersweet, False (Celastrus scan- 
dens), 86, 328 
Japanese (C. orbiculatus), 333 
Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta), 

Bladder Nut (Staphylea trifolia), 
*S. colchica, 176 
Bladderwort (Vtricularia pur- 
purea), 127 
U. vulgaris, 127 
Blanketflower (Gaillardia), 198, 
207, 245 
G. aristata, 218 

var. splendidissima plena, 218 
G. pulchella, 221, 247, 254 
Kelway's King, 218 
G. Lorenziana, 247 
Blazing Star (Liatris pyenostachya), 
L. scanosa, 89 
Bleeding Heart {Dicentra specta- 

bilis), 196, 207, 218, 273 
Blood Root (Sanguinaria Canaden- 
sis), 83, 85, 89, 106, 273 
Bluebell, see Bellflower, 106 
Blue Bells (Mertensia pulmonarioi- 

des), 106 
Bluets (Houstonia aerulea), 89 
Bocconia cordata, see Poppy 
Bog Garden, 115 

Rush {Juncus ejfusus), 127 

Boltonia, Starry {Bohonia aster- 

oides), 26, 89, 207, 212, 218, 


Mauve (B. latisquama), 89 

Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum), 

46, 87, 89, 114, 120 
Boston Ivy, see Ivy 
Bougatnvillea, 1 1 
Bouncing Bet, 81 
Boxwood {Buxus sempervirens), 

381 49>5 2 > 5 6 » m> J 5 6 > **7> 

188, 209, 244, 263, 297, 299 

Dwarf (var. sufyuticosa), 156 

Elder, see Elder, 148 

Oriental {B . Japon tea Tar. 

microphylla), 156 
Privet, see Privet 
Brachycome iberidifolia, see Daisy, 

Swan River, 
Brasenia peltata, see Water Shield, 

Bridal Wreath, see Spires 
Brier Rose, see Rose 

Brooklime {Veronica American a), 

Broom, 27 
Browallia demissa or elata, see 

Brunella, see Self-heal 
Buckthorn {Rhamnus cathartica) > 
176, 188 
Alder (R. Frangula), 176 
Sea (Hippophae rhamnoides), 
Buddkia, Lindleyana, 176 
Bugle (Ajuga reptans), 107, 218 
Geneva (A. Genevensts), 218 
Bulbous and Tuberous Plants, 257, 

Bulrushes, see Cat-tail 
Buttercup, 81 

Butterfly Flower (Sckizantkus pin- 
natus), 247 
Asdepias tuberosa, Milkweed, 
Butterfly, 83, 84, 89, 212, 273 
Butterwort, 116 
Button Ball, 85, 114 
Buxus, see Boxwood 

Cabomba Caroliniana t 128 
Cactus, 28, 103. See also Prickly 

Caladium, see Elephant's Ear 
Calendula, 242, 244, 245. See 

also Marigold 
Calla palustris, see Arum 
C. albo-maculata, izS 
Spotted {Richardia) , 128 
Callicarpa, see Mulberry, 182 
Calliopsis, 242, 243, 245 
Callistepkus hortensis, see Aster 
Calopogon pulchellus, see Grass 

Pink, 91 
Caltha palustr'tSy see Marigold, 

Calycanthus, see Strawberry Shrub, 

Cam ass, 260 
Camas sia, see Quamash, 281 
Camellia, 169 
Campanula, see Bellflower 
Canary Bird Vine {Tropaolum 

peregrinum), 333 
Candytuft (Iberis sempervirens), 
57, 103, 107, 113, 198, 211, 
212, 218, 245 
Colored {I. umbellata), 57 
Rocket {I. amara), 57, 248 
Canna Indica hybrids, 70, 257, 270, 

*!} > *73» 3 2 9 
Cannabis sativa f see Hemp, 249 
Canterbury Bells, see Bellflower 
Cape Hyacinth, see Hyacinth, 276 
Caragana arborescens, see Pea, 

Siberian, 184 
Cardinal Flower {Lobelia cardina* 

lis), 85, 86, 87,90, 105,115, 

120, 127, 215, 218, 244, 329 
Cardiospermum Halicacabum, see 

Balloon Vine, 247, 332 



Carnation, 213, 241. See also Pink, 
Border (Dianthus Caryophyllus), 

Carolina Allspice (Calycanthusfori- 

dus) see Strawberry Shrub 
Carrot, Wild, Queen Anne's L«ce, 

Caryopteris Mastacanthus, see Blue 

Spirea, 176 
Cassia Marylandica, see Senna 
Castor Bean (Ricinus communis), 

240, 24$ 
Catalpa (Catalpa bignonioidcs), 

C. speciosa, 147 
Catananche cecrulea, tee Cupid's 

Dart, 221, 254 
Catchfly {Silent Armaria), 24S 
5. pendula, 248 

German (Lychnis Viscaria), 57, 
218. See also London Pride 
Cat Mint, 214 
Cat-tail Bulrush (Typha latifolia), 

114, 127 
Caulophyllum thalictroides, tee 

Cohosh, Blue, 89 
Ceanothus Americanus, see New 

Jersey Tea, 182 
Cedar, 38, 101, 139, 156 

Mount Atlas (Cedrus Atlantica), 

Tar. glauca, 156 

of Lebanon (C. Libani), 156 

Pyramidal, White (Thuya 

accidentally, var. pyramidalis), 

see Arborvite 

Red (Juniperus Virginiana), 

'39. 156 
White (T. occidcntahs), see 

Cedrus, see Cedar 
Ctlastrus, see Bittersweet, 86, 328 
Celandine, see Poppy, 90 
Celosia cristata, see Cockscomb, 

Centaur ea Cyanus, see Bachelors' 

Margarita and Moschata, see 

Sweet Sultan, 253 
Cerastium tomentosum, see Chick- 
Ctrasus hortensis, see Flowering 

Cherry, 147 
Ceratopteris lhalictroides, see Fem, 

Horn, 128 
Ceratostigma plumhaginoides, see 

Leadwort, Blue 
Cercis Canadensis, see Red Bud 
Chamacyparis Lawsoniana, see 

Cypress, Lawson's, 157 
pisifera, see Cypress, Japanese 
obtusa, see Cypress, Japanese 
Chamomile (Anthemis tinctoria), 

(6, 218 
Double Scentless (Matricaria 

indora, var. plemssima), 218 
False, see Boltoni^ 

Chaste Tree, Monk's Pepper Tree 
(Vitex Agnus-castus and 
incisa), 177 
Checker Lily, see Fritillary, 59 
Cheiranthus Cheiri see Wallflower 
Cherry, Bird (Prunus Pennsyl- 
vania), 143 
Cornelian (Cornus Mas), 177 
Flowering (Cerasus hortensis 
and Prunus avium), 147, 173 
Winter (Physalis Alkehengi), 230 
Improved (P.Francheti), 230 
Chestnut, Horse (AZsculus Hippo- 
castanum), 141, 147 
Dwarf (&. macrostachya), 171, 
Chickweed, Mouse-eared Snow-in- 
Summer (Cerastium tomento- 
sum), 109, 225, 254 
Chinese Sacred "lily," see Narcissus 
Chionodoxa, see Glory - of - the - 

Chionanthus Virginica, see Fringe 

Tree, 178 
Chokeberry (A/onia arbutifolia), 
166, 177 
Black (A. nigra), 177 
Chrysanthemum, 207, 208, 212, 
213, 219, 234, 245 
Annual (C. coronarium),^y,2^S 
carinatum, 248 

coccineum, see Pyrethrum, 64 
Hardy Perennial (C. Indicum 

and morifolium), 219 
Japanese, 219 

Leucanthemum, see Daisy 
Parthenium, see Feverfew, 58 
pmaltum, see Daisy 
Types of named varieties, 219 
Wild, see Daisy, Ox-eye, 45, 93 
Cigar-plant, 243 

Cimicifuga racemosa, see Snake- 
root, Black, 89 
Cinnamon Vine, Yam (Dioscorea 
1 divaricata), 333 

Cinquefoil (Potentilla fruticosa), 

86, 90 
Citrus irifoliata, see Orange, 189 
Cladrastis tinctoria, Virgilia lutea, 

see Yellow Wood, 155 
Clarkia elegans, 248 
Claytonia Virginica, see Spring 

Clematis, 75, 324, 342, 350 
Aromatic, 220 
Blue Bush (C. integrifolia), 

and var. Durandi, 220 
David's (C heraclafalia, var. 

Davidiana), 220 
Flammula, 324 
Jackman's (C. Jackmani), ic, 

3 2 5> 333 
Japanese (C. paniculata), 324, 

Purple, 10, 325, 333 
Red (C. Viorna, var. coccinta), 

3**> 333 

Clematis, Continued 

Virgin's Bower (C. Virginiana) , 

86, 325, 336 
White (C. Henryi), 333 
White Bush (C. recta), 220 
Clethra (Clethra alnifolia), 71, 83, 

86, 115, 170, 177, 186 
Clintonia (Clintonia borealis), 90 
Clove tree, 50 

Clover, Bush (Lespedeza Sieboldi), 
Water (Marsilea quadri folia) , 
120, 129 
Cobcea (Cobaa scandens), 248 

San Salvador, 330 
Cockscomb (Celosia cristata), 250 
Cohosh, Black, see Snakeroot 
Blue (Caulophyllum thalic- 
troides), 89 
Coix Lachryma-Jobi, see Job's 

Tears, 250 
Colchicum, see Crocus, Autumn 
Coldframe, 242 
Coleus, 17, 69, 70, 243, 246 
Columbine, 74, 85, 196, 198, 206, 
207, 212, 213 
Feathered (Thalictrum aquilegi- 

folium), 107 
Garden (Aquilegia vulgaris), 

Rocky Mountain (A. cxrulec), 

Wild (A. Canadensis), 90, 107, 

220, 329 
Yellow (A. chrysantha), 220 
Column Flower (Lepachys colum- 

naris), 220, 254 
Colutea arborescens, see Senna, 

Bladder, 176 
Comptonia asplenifolia, see Fern, 

Sweet, 95 
Coniferous Evergreens, 188 
Conoclinium ccelestinum, see Mist 

Flower, 108 
Convallaria majalis, see Lily-of- 

Convolvulus, Wild, 115 
Coptis lrifolia, see Gold Thread, 91 
Coral Bells (Heuchera sanguinea), 
Berry (Symphoricarpos vul- 
garis), 177 
Drops, Mexican (Bessera 

elegans), 298 
Lily, see Lily 
Coreopsis, see Tickseed 
Corn, Japanese Variegated (Zea 
Mays, var. Japontcus), 248 
Poppy, see Poppy 
Cornflower, see Bachelors' Buttons 
Cornel, see Dogwood 
Cornus, see Dogwood 
Cortaderea argeniea, see Grass, 

Pampas, 286 
Cosmos (C. bipinnatus), 26, 240, 
Yellow (C. sulphurous), 248 


The American Flower Garden 

Cotoneaster, Box-leaved {Coton- 

easter buxifolia, C. micro- 

phylla), 156, 173 

Cotton {Gossypium herbaceum), 249 

Cowslip {Primula officinalis), 108 

French, 47 

Virginia {Mertensia Virginia?), 

8 S> 95> 2 3° 
Crab Apple, 143, 144 
Bechtel's, 147 
Flowering {Pyrus foribunda), 

Pyrus Ioensis, 147 
Cranberry, Highbush, (Viburnum 

Opulus), 85, 173, 177 
Cranesbill, Meadow {Geranium 
pratense), 107 
Red {G. sanguineum), 107 
Spotted (G. maculatum), 90, 107 
Crataegus Oxyacantha, see Haw- 
thorn, English, 149 
Cress Purple {Aubrietia deltoidea), 
Water {Nasturtium officinale) 

White Rock {Arabis albida),%c, 
109, 211, 212 
Crimson Glory {Vitis Coignetix), 

Rambler, see Rose 
Crocus, 72, 196, 212, 258, 259, 260 
Autumn {Colchicum autumnale), 

107, 273, 274 
Named varieties, 274 
Crown Imperial {Fritillaria Impe- 

rialis), 50, 58, 267, 275 
Cryptomeria (C. Japonica, Tar. 

Lobbi), 156 
Cucumber Tree, see Magnolia, 147, 
Vine, 331 
Cucurbila, see Gourd 
Cup-and-saucer Vine, see Cobcca, 

Cupid's Dart {Catananche carulea), 

221, 254 
Currant, Flowering {Ribes aureum), 

165, 177 
Cydonia Japonica, see Quince 
Cyperus allernifolius, see Umbrella 
Plant, 127 
Papyrus, see Papyrus 
Cypress, 35, 38, 345, 347 

Bald ( Taxodium distichum ), 

Italian {Cupressus semper- 

virens), 139 
Japanese, named varieties, 160 
Mock, 251 
Retinispora, see Cypress, 

Vine, 249, 332 
Cypripedium, see Lady's Slipper 

Daffodil, see Narcissus 
Dahlia, 271, 

Named varieties 174, 275 

Daisy, 56, 71, 81 

English {Belli* perennis), j8 
Oi-eye {Chrysanthemum Leu- 

canthemum), 45, 93 
Shasta (C . Leucanthemum hy- 
brid), 212,213,228 
Swan River, 253 

Dame's Rocket, see Rocket 

Daphne {D. Mexereum), 177 
D. Gwenka, 178 
See also Garland Flower 

Datura, Stramonium, see James- 
town Weed 

Day Lily, see Lily 

Day Primrose, see Sun Drops 

Deciduous Shrubs of Special Merit, 

Trees for Lawns and Gardens, 

Delphinium, see Larkspur 
Deutzia, 74, 168, 170, 173 
D. gracilis, 178 
D. Lemoinei, 178 
Dianthus, see Pink 

D. barbatus, see Sweet William 

D. Caryophyllus, see Carnation 

DicentraCucullaria, see Dutchman's 

Breeches, 90, 275 
D. spectabilis, see Bleeding 

Dicksonia, see Fern, 84 
Dictamnus albus, see Gas Plant 
Dielytra spectabilis, see Bleeding 

Heart {Dicentra spectabilis) 
Diervilla florida, see Weigela 
Digitalis, see Foxglove 
Digitalis, var., see Pentstemon Imi- 

Dioscorea divaricata, see Cinnamon 

Dockmackie, see Viburnum 
Dodder, 116 
Dodecathcon Meadia, see Shooting 

Dog's Tooth Violet, Adder's 

Tongue {Erythronium Ameri- 

canum), 83, 90, 269, 275 
Dogwood, 84, 85, 142, 143, 167, 

•7 2 > '73 
Bush {Cornus candidissima), 

Cornel, 166, 167, 170, 178 
Cornus Mas, see Cherry 

Cornelian, 177 
Dwarf Cornel (C. Canadensis), 

Flowering (C. fiorida), White 72, 

83, 148 
Pink (C. fiorida var. rubra), 

Red-twigged (C. stolonifera), 

Red-osier (C. sanguinea), 178 
Round-leaved (C. circinata), 

Silky (C. amomum), 115, 177 
WUd, 170 

Dolichos Lablab, see Hyacinth Bean 
Douglas Spruce, see Spruce 
Dracoccphalum Moldavicum, see 

Dusty Miller, 69, 243 
Dutchman's Breeches {Dicentra 
Cucullaria), 90, 275 
Pipe {Arislolochia macrophyfla 
or Sipho), 333 

Earth Line, 166 

Edelweiss {Leontopodium alpinum), 

Eglantine, see Rose 
Eichhornia speciosa, see Hyacinth, 

Elceagnus, see Goumi, 178, 179 

angustijolia, see Oleaster 
Elder, 71, 86, 166, 170 

Box, Variegated {Acer Negundo 

var. argenteo-variegatum), 148 

Common {Sambucu's nigra), 178 

Golden {S. nigra, var. aurea), 


Elephant's Ear {Caladium esculen- 

tum), 270, 271, 275 
Elm, 17, 48, 142 

American or White {Ulmus 

Americana), 148 
Camperdown {Ulmus scabra, 
var. pendula), 148 
Empress Tree {Paulownia impe- 

rialis), 148 
Epigxa repens, see Arbutus 
Epilobium angustifolium, see Wil- 
low herb 
Eranlhis hyemalis, see Aconite 
Eremurus robustus, see Lily 
Eriathus Ravenna, see Grass, 120 
Eryngium amethystinum, see Sea 

Erythronium Americanum, see 

Dog's Tooth Violet 
Eschschohia Californica, see 

Eulalia, Japanese Rush [Miscan- 
thus Sinensis) and varieties, 286 
Euonymus, 173 

Americanus, see Strawberry 

Bush, 186 
Japonica, 6ee Spindle Tree, 

radicans, see Creeping Spindle, 

Eupatorium, 120 

ageratoides, see Snake-root, 

White, 96 
perforatum, see Boneset 
purpureum, see Joe-Pye Weed 
Evening Primrose, see Primrose 
Evergreen Thorn, 162 
Evergreens, 17, 38, 74, 101, 119, 

•34. I3S. "36. '37, 14°. »«5. 

174, 188, 210, 296, 297, 345 
Dwarf, 104, 133, 215 
List of, 155 



Everlasting {Hellchrysum bractea- 

tum), 249 
Helipterum roseum, 249 
H. {or Rodanthe) Mangiest, 

Immortelle I ' Xeranthemum an- 

nuum) , 60, 213,249 
Pea, see Pea 
Exochorda grandiflora, tee Pearl 


Fagus, see Beech 

Fair Maides of France, tee Bache- 
lors' Buttons 
Maides of Kent, see Bachelor/ 
False Acacia, see Locust 

Mitrewort {Tiarella cordifolia), 

9 1 
Feather, Prince of Wales's, lee 

Amaranthus, 246 
Fennel, 45 

Fern, 71, 84, 103, 105, 207, 208 
Dicksonia, 84 
Horn {Ceratopteris thalictroides) 

polypodies, 84 
Royal, Osmunda, 87, 115, 118 

Shield, 84 

Sweet (Complonia adianti- 
folia), 95 
Fescue, Blue {Festuca glauca), 

Fesiuca glauca, 286 
Fetter Bush {Pier is forikunia), 

157 / 
Feverfew {Chrysanthemum Par- 

thenium), 58 
Yellow-leaved (C. Parthenium, 

var. aureum), 59 
Fir {Abies), 101, 138 
A. lasiocarpa, 177 
Balsam {A.balsamea), 157 
Nordmann's {A. Nordman- 

niana), 140, 157 
Red, see Spruce 
Veitch's, 140 

White {A. concolor), 140, 157 
Fire Bean {Phaseolus multifierus), 

Flag, see Iris 

Flameflower, see Poker Plant 
Flax, 254 

Linum grandrflorum, 221 

L. ushatissimum, 221 

Lewisi, 221 
Fleur-de-lis, see Iris 
Floating Heart {Limnamhemum 

lacunosum), 128 
Flower-de-luce, see Iris 
Forget-me-not, 71, 86, 120, 128, 
254, 266 

Early {Myosotis disshifora), 221 

M. alpestris, 59 

M. palustris, 91, 107, XII 

Forsythia, Golden Bells, 170, 172, 
173, 178, 179, 182 
suspensa, 178, 182 
viridissima, 179 
Four o'clock, Marvel of Peru 

{Mirabilis Jalapa), 59 
Foxglove, 48, 73, 120, 205, 207, 
209, 212, 215, 241 
Common {Digitalis purpurea), 

59, 107, 221 
Gloxinia-flowered {D. gloxini- 

aides), 221 
Yellow, (D. ambigua), 59, 
Fraxinella, see Gas Plant 
Fraxinus, see Ash 
Freesias, 242 

Fringe Tree {Chionanthus Vir- 
ginia), 178 
Fritillary {Fritillaria), 59, 267, 

Guinea-hen Flower, Checker 
Lily {F. Meleagris), 59, 267, 
Imperialis see Crown Imperial 
Snake's Head, 59 
Fumitory, 332 
Funkia, see Lily, Plantain 

Gaillardia, see Blanketflower 
Galanthus nivalis, see Snowdrop 
Galtonia candicans, see Hyacinth 

Agnes Surriage's, 49 

Annuals, 233 

Approach, 21 

Architecture, 8, 25, 26 

Associations, 78 

Babylonian Hanging, 33 

Bartram's John, 52 

Bog, 115 

Boundaries, 28, 40, 133, 165 

Cactus, 28 

Celia Thaxter's, 10 

Central Park, New York, 4 

Charles Kingsley's, 203 

Climatic conditions, 17 

Colonial, 41 

Colonial South, 52, 53 

Colour, 9, 21, 133,214,235 

Cost, 76 

Design, 15, 56, 70, see Plans 

Division, 31, according to 

season, 213, 214 
Egyptian, 33 
English, 15, 27, 168 
Favourites in old-time, 4S 
First Botanic in America, 5a 
Form, 8, 211 

Formal, 31, 33, 53, 75, 139 
For small place, 41 
Furniture, 34, 38, 56, 339 
George Washington's, 53 
Greek, 33 
Harmony, 9, 212 
Household Medicines, 45, 46 
Independent of flowers, 40 

Garden, Continued 

Individuality emphasized, 20, 
21, 28 

Italian, 24, 28, 36, 168 

Italy, 9, 134 

Japanese, 25, 99, 144, 349 

Kew, London, 102 

Limitations, 17 

Longfellow's, 48 

Medieval, 35 

Native plants for wild, 88 

Naturalistic, 28, 69 

New England, 41 

Nursery, 22 

Old-fashioned, 41, 45, 349 

Outdoor living rooms, 39 

Partnership between Nature and 
Art, 3 

Permanent, 15, 38 

Perennials, 195 

Personality in, 19 

Phoenician, 33 
. Plans, 6, 20, 40, 69, 139, 210 et 
seq. 236 

Planting around the home, 73, 

Planting lists, 106, 198, 2to 

Pompeii, 34 

Pope's, 31 

Principles, 7 

Proportion, 8, 211 

Protection, 101 

Purchase, 18, 21, 22 

Puritan, 49 

Relation of Architect and Land- 
scape Gardener, 18, 24 

Renaissance, 40. See also Villa 

Rock, 99, 102, 322 

Roman, 4, 34 

Seats, 34, 38, 334, 339, 346 

Shrubs, 165 

Site, 15, 26 

Soil, 23, 103 

Steps, 38, 104, 346 

Statuary, 34, 70, 345, et seq. 

Straight lines, 32 

Sundials, 38, 40, 56, 345, 346 

Sunken, 50 

Terrace, 40, 53, 346 

Thought-out, 195 

Topiary, 35, 54 

Transformation of unsightly 
objects, 21, 321 

Trees, 133 

Tropical, II, 24 

Tuberous plants, 257 

Van Cortlandt Manor, 51 

Vases, 34, 345, et seq. 

Villa Colonna, at Rome, 36, 56 

Villa d'Este, at Tivoli, 36, 347 

Villa Lante, at Bagnaia, 36 

Villa Medici, Rome, 35, 42 

Vistas, 9, 20, 40, 215 

Water, 28, 113 

Wild, 23, 28,81 

Windbreak, 50, 101, 133 et seq. 

Wordsworth's, 203 

3 6 ° 

The American Flower Garden 

"Gardener's Garter," see GraBB 
Garland Flower (Daphne Cneorum), 

85. »S7 
D. Blagayana, 158 
Gas Plant, Fraxinella (Dictamnus 
albus), 4, 48, 59, 195, 113, 221 
Gaultheria procumbent, see Winter- 
green, 96 
Gentian, Closed (Gentiana An* 
drewsi), 91 
Fringed (G. crinha), 86, 91, 244 
Narrow-leaved (G. linearis), 91 
Geranium, 10, 17, 70, 72, 76, 
241,243,246,344. See also 
Cranesbill, Wild 
Gillyflower, 47, 50 
Ginger, Wild, see Snakeroot 
Ginkgo biloba, 151, see Maidenhair 

Gladiolus (G. Gandavensis), 257, 
267, 271, 329; hybrids, 275 
Glaucium luteum, see Poppy 
Gleditschia triacanthos, see Locust 
Globe Amaranth, see Bachelors' 
Flower (Trollius Europeus, Tar. 

Lodigesii), 221 
T. Asiaticus, 221 
Glory of the Snow (Chionodoxa 

Lucilia), 105, 258, 260, 275 
Goat'sBeard, False (Astilbe Japoni- 
ca), 107 
A, decandra, 222 
True (Aruncus Sylvester), 222 
Godetia (CEnothera amosna), 245, 
(E. Whitneyi, 249 
Golden Bells, see Forsythia 
Feather, see Feverfew 
Glow (Rudbeckia laciniata, vasr. 
Golden Glow), 207, 209, 212, 
Goldenrod (Solidago), 87, 115 
Canadian (5. Canadensis), 83, 

9 1 

Elm-leaved, 120 
Field (S. nemoralis), 91 
Woodland (S. cxsia), 91 
Goldentuft, see Alyssum 
Goldfish, 123 

Gold Thread (Coptis trifolia), 91 
Gomphrena globosa, see Bachelors, 

Goodyera pubescens, see Rattlesnake 

Plantain, 94 
Gossypium herbaceum, see Cotton 
Goumi (Eleagnas longipes), 178, 

Gourd (Cucurbita), 330, 331, 334 
Gout Weed, Bishop's Weed (Aigo- 
podium podograria var. im*> 
riegata) 222 
G'ane (Vitis) 51, 306 

R'ver bank (C. Labrvsca) 334 
Wfld Fox (r. vulpine), 86, 

3*7- 334. 342 
Grape, Hyacinth, see Hyacinth 

Grass, Ornamental, 119, 211, 258 
Canary (Phalaris arundinacea), 

272, 286, 287 
Eulalia (Miscanthus Sinensis), 

120, 211, 270, 272 

Striped (var. variegatus) in- 
cluded in Eulalia 

Barred (var. Zebrinus) in- 
cluded in Eulalia 
Fescue, Blue (Festuca glauca), 

Gardener's Garters, 272, 286 
List of Ornamental Grasses, 

Pampas (Cortaderea argenttc), 

Pennisetum (Pennisetum villa- 

sum), 286 
Ravenna (Erianthus Ravenna), 

Ribbon (Phalaris arundinacea 

var. variegata), 272, 286, 287 
Spike (Uniola latijolia), 287 
Grass Pink (Calopogon pulchellus), 

Ground Nut (Apios tuberosa), 275 
Groundsel Bush (Baccharis halimi- 

jolia), 179 
Guinea Hen Flower, see Fritulary 
Gum, Sweet (Liquidambar styraci- 

/»»«)> >45» '54 
Sour, Tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica), 

Gypsophila, see Baby's Breath 

Habenaria ciliaris, see Orchis, 

Yellow-fringed, 96 
Ralesia letraptera, see Silver Bell 

Tree, 184 
Hamamelis, see Witch Hazel 
Harebell, see Bellflower 
Hare's Tail (Lagurus ovatus), 249 
Hawkweed, 75 
Hawthorn, 143 

English (Cratsgus oxyacantha), 
Heartsease, see Pansy 
Heath, 83, 116, 169, 174 
Sedera Helix, see Ivy 
Hedge, 54, 135, 168 

List of trees and shrubs for, 187 
Roses, 293, 
Trumpet Flower, 329 
Hedysarum coronarium, see Honey- 
Selenium autumnale, see Sneeze- 
Helianthus, see Sunflower 
Helichrysum bracteattm, see Ever- 
Heliotrope, Garden (Fa/err'ana tfci- 

nalis), sec Valerian 
Helipterum, see Everlasting 
Helleborus niger, see Christmas 

Hemerocallis, see Lily, Day 

Hemlock (Tsuga Canadensis), 101, 

"5» '35. '3 8 > '40. 143. J 5 8 > 
168, 188, 297 
Hemp (Cannabis saliva, var. gi- 

gantea), 249 
Heuchera sanguinea, see Coral 

Hepatica (H. triloba),^, 92, 258 
Hercules Club (Aralia spinosa), 143 
Chinese Angelica (A. Chinen- 
sis), 149 
Hesperis matronalis, see Rocket 
Hibiscus Moscheutos, see Mallow, 
Sunset (H. Manihot), 222 
Syriacus, see Rose of Sharon 
Hickory (Hicoria alba), 149 
Hicoria alba, see Hickory 
Hippophae rhamnoides, see Buck- 
Holly, American (Ilex opaca), 85, 
158, 188 
English (I.Aquijolium), 158 
/. Cassine, 189 
Sea, see Sea Holly, 228 
Holly-leaved Mahonia, see 

Hollyhock, 47, 48, 75, 86, 87, 195, 
198, 200, 205, 207, 209, 212, 
213, 222, 234, 306 
Honesty, annual (Lunaria annua), 
Perennial (L. rediviva), 47, 198, 
222, 254 
Honeysuckle (Lonicera) Vines: 
Belgian (L. Periclymenum, var. 
Belgica), 334 
var. serotina, 334 
Coral, 324, 329 

French (Hedysarum corona- 
rium), 221, 254 
Hall's (L. Japonica, var. Hall- 

iana), 329, 334 
Variegated (var. aureo- retic- 
ulata), 334 
Honeysuckle, Bush: 

Fragrant (L.fragrantissima),i7y 
Japanese (Z.. Morrowi), 179 
Manchurian (L. Ruprechtiana), 

Tartarian (L. Tartarica),\T) 
Hop, Japanese (Humulus Japoni- 
cus) , 249, 331, 334; var. varie- 
gatus, 249 
Perennial (H. Lupulus), 334 
Hornbeam tree, 55 
Horse Chestnut, see Chestnut 
Hotbed, 237 et seq. 
Houstonia carulea, tee Bluett, 89 
Humulus, see Hop 
Hyacinth, Bedding (Hyacinthus 
orientalis), 60, 70, 105, 242, 
261, 264, 268, 275; Named 
varieties, 276 
Cape (Galtonia candieans), 276 
Grape (Muscari botryoides), 60, 
259, 260, 276 



Hyacinth, Continued 

Water (Eichkornia spcctosa), 

113, 123, 130 
Wocd (Sctlla Hispanica and 
nutans), 260, 276 
Hyacinth Bean (Dolichos Lablab), 

*5°> 33* 
Hydrangea, Climbing ( Schho- 

phragma hydrangeotdes, also 

H. petiolaris), 334 
Hardy, large-flowered, white 

(H. grandiflara, var. pani- 

culata), 171, 173, 179, 189 
Hortensia (H. hortensis), 180 
Hortensia group, 180 
Japonica group, 180 
Stellata group, 180 
Wild (H, arborescent), 180 
Hypericum Moserianum, see St. 

John's Wort 

Iberis, see Candytuft 

Ice Plant (Mesembryantkemum 

crystallinum), 250 
Hei, 35, 40, 345, see Holly 

Japanese (I. crenata), 158, 
Immortelle, see Everlasting 
Impatiens balsamina, see Balsam 
Incarviliea Delavayi, 223 
Indian Lotus, see Lotus 
Pipe, 116 

Plume (Monarda didyma), 86 
Turnip, see Jack-in-the-PuJpit 
Indigo, Bastard (Amorpha fruii- 
cosa), 180 
Wild (Baptisia tinctoria), 96 
Inkberry (Ilex glabra), 158 
Innocence, see Bluets 
Ipomxa, see Moonflower 

purpurea, see Morning Glory 
quamoclit, see Cypress Vine 
Iris, Fleur-de-lis, Flower-de-luce, 
86, 105, X20, 196, 198, 206, 
211, 212, 234, 257, 267, 276 
Bearded, dwarf (7. pumila), 223 
Blue Flag (7. versicolor, also 
J. prismatica and I. Virgs- 
nica), 92 
Crested Dwarf (I. crtstata), 223 
Dwarf (7. bifiora and 7. Cham- 

airis), 233 
English (LAnglica), 6o, 223 129 
Florentine, 223 
German, 60. Named varieties 

of, 223 
Japanese (7. laevigata or Kamp- 
feri), 71, 85, 113, 120, 128, 
200, 208, 27.3 
Siberian (7. Sibinca), 224 
Sweet Flag (Acorus Calamus), 
A. gramineus and var. varie- 
gatusi 129 
Yellow (7. Jseudacorus), 128 
Ironweed (Vernonia Novebora- 
censis), 92 

"aly, 39 54, 55, 75, 134, 345, 347, 

349. 35° 
Ivy, 321, 322, 323 

Boston or Japanese (Ampelop- 
sis tricuspidata or Veitchit), 

3 2 5» 3 26 > 334 
English (Hedera Helix), 335 
Virginia Creeper (A mpelopsis 
quinquefolia), 326, 336 
var. Engelmanni, 336 
Ilia, 276 

Jacinthes (Hyacinths), 47 
Jack-in-the-Pulpit, Indian Turnip 

(Ariseema triphyllum), 92, 

269, 276 
Jacob's Ladder (Polemonium rep- 
tans), 108 
Jamestown Weed, Thorn Apple 

(Datura stramonium), 92 
Jasmine, Sweet (Jasminum nudi- 

forum), 173, 335 
J. o§cinale, 335 
Jenoffelins, 50 
Jewel Weed, 120, 329 
Job's Tears (Coix Lachrytna-Jobi), 

Joe-Pye Weed (Eupatorium pur- 

pureum), 87, 92, 115 
Johnny-jump-up, see Pansy 
Jonquil, see Narcissus 
Judas Tree, see Red Bud 
Juglans nigra, see Walnut, Black, 

Juneus ejjusus, see Bog Rush, 127 
Juniper, Cedar, 38, 101, 135, 138, 
140, 158 
Common (Juniperus com- 
munis), 158 
Jabina, see Savin, 161 
J. Virginiana, see Cedar 

Kalmia, see Laurel 

Kcrria (Kerria Japonica)* 180 
White (Rhodotypos kerrioidez), 

Kniphofia Pfitzeri, 281, see Poker 

Kochia Scoparia, see Mock Cy- 
press, 251 

Kalreuteria paniculata, 154, see 
Varnish Tree 

Kudzu Vine (Pueraria Thunber- 
giana), 330, 335 

Laburnum (L. vulgare), 133, 149, 

Ladies' Delight, see Pansy 
Lady's Slipper, Balsam 57 

Moccasin Flower (Cypripedium 

acaule), 86, 92 
Showy (C. spectabile), 92 
Yellow (C. pubescens), 92 
C. pauciforum, 92 

Lagurus ovatus, see Hare's Tail, 

Lamium maculatum, see Nettle, 225 
Landscape Gardener, 18, 24 
Gardening, 3, 8, 6, 17, 18 
Larch, 145 
Larix, see Tamarack 
Larkspur (Delphinium), 48, 120, 
198, 201, 208, 209, 213, 254, 
Annual (D. ajacis), 250 
Perennial(7?.e/a/«m), 60; D.for- 
mosum, 60, 224; D. grandi- 
forum, 60 
Lathyrus, see Pea 
Laurel, Mountain (Kalmia lati- 
folia), 27, 38, 73, 82, 84, 85, 
101, 103, 158, 168, 169, 170, 
174, 189, 268 
Great, see Rhododendron maxi- 
Narrow leaved (K. angusti- 
folia), 158 
Laurui nobilis, see Bay, Sweet 
Lavatera (Lavatera trimestris), 250 
Lavender, Sea, see Sea Lavender 
Leadwort, Blue Plumbago (Cera- 
tostigma plumbaginoides), 106, 
224, 227 
Leontopodium alpinum, see 

Leopard Flower, see Lily, Black- 
Lepachys columnaris, see Column 

Lespedeza Sieboldi, see Clover 

Bush, 176 
Leucojum vernum and asttvum, see 

Snowflake, 281 
Leucothoe Catesbtei, 158 
Liatris, see Blazing Star 
Ligustrum, see Privet 
Lilac (Syringa), 49, 75, 165, 168, 
170, 173. Named varieties, 
180, 181 
Chinese (S. Pekinensis), 181 
Common (S. vulgaris), 180 
Hungarian (S. Josikaa), 181 
Persian (S. Persica), 181 
Rouen (S. Chtnensis), 18 1 
Lfly (Lilium), 38, 47, 83, 103, 209, 
268, 269; Day Lilies, see 
African Blue (Agapanthus um- 

bellatus), 276 
Annunciation, see Madonna 
Autumn (L. speciosum, var. 

rubrum), 269, 276 
Belladonna (Amaryllis bella- 
donna), 277 
Blackberry, Leopard Flower 
(Belemcanda Chinensis, also 
Pardanthus), 61,82,277 
Canada (L. Canadense), 85, 277 
Checkered,Guinea Hen Flower, 

Snake's Head, see Frit'llary 
Chinese Sacred, see Narcissus 


The American Flower Garden 

Lily, Continued 

Coral (L. tenuifolium), 277 
Gold-banded (L. auratum), 268, 

269, 277 
Henry's (L. Henryi), 277 
Indian Giant (Eremurus ro- 

bustus), 277 
Jacobsea (Spikelia jormosis- 

sima), 277 
Japan (L. elegans), 278 
Madonna (L. candidum), 198, 

Martagon, see Scarlet 
Neapolitan {Allium Neapolita- 

num), 278 
Of-the-valley (Convallaria ma- 

jalis), 61, 108, 196, 206, 269, 

Philadelphia Red (L. Philadel- 

phicum), 278 
Powell's Cape(Cr>num Powell!), 

Plantain, see Day Lily 
Red, Wood, see Philadelphia 
St. Bernard's (Anthericum Lili- 

ago), 61 
St. Bruno's (Paradisea Linos' 

trum, Anthericum Liliastrum), 

St. Joseph's, see Madonna 
Scarlet Martagon (L. Chalce- 

donicum), 278 
Tiger (L. tigrinum), 73, 278 
Tigridia pavonia, 277 
Toad (Tricritis hirta, van 

nigra), no 
Trout, see Dog Tooth Violet, 

83, 269 
Wood, see Philadelphia Lily; 

also Wake Robin (Trillium') 

Lily, Day (Funkia and Hemero- 

callis), 73, 81, 207, 212, 277 

Blue, see Plantain Lily, 63 

Dwarf Orange (H. Dumortieri), 

Lemon (H. fiava), 58, 269, 277 
Orange (H. julva), 58, 73, 81, 

209,, 269, 277 
Plantain, Blue (Funkia ovata), 

White (F. subcordata), 63, 269; 

often confused with Hemer- 

Lilies, Water (Nymphaa) 1 13-123. 

Named varieties, 124 
Limnanthemum lacunosum, see 

floating Heart, 128 
Limnocharis Humboldt i, see Poppy, 

Linden, Silver (Tilia Americana), 

142, 149 
Weeping (T. petiolarh), 149 
Linum, see Flax 
Liquidambar styraciflua, see Gum, 

Sweet, i4S» # I S4 
Liriodendron tulipifera, see Pop* 

lar, Tulip, 153 

Liverwort (Hepatica triloba), see 

Lobelia, 115, 120, 243 
Blue (Z-. Erinus), 250 
cardinalis, see Cardinal Flower 
"Crystal Palace" ( Lobelia 
erinus, var. compacta), 250 
Locust, 142, 328, 341 

False Acacia {Robinta Pseuda' 

cacia), 149 
Honey (Gleditschia triacanthos), 
Lombardy Poplar, see Poplar 
London Pride, Catchfly, None-so- 
pretty, Ragged Robin, St- 
Patrick's Cabbage (Saxi- 
fraga umbrosa), 61 
Lonicera, see Honeysuckle 
Loosestrife, Purple {Lythrum Saii- 

caria), 93, 127 
Lotus (Nelumbo), 38, 117, 118, 119, 
122, 123 
American (i7. lutea), 128 
Indian, pink (N. nucijera or 
speciosum), 114, 124, 128 
var. rosea, 128 
var. Shiroman, 128 
var. Kinshiren, 128 
Love-entangle, see Stone Crop, 

Love-in-a-mist (Nigella Damas- 

cena), 61, 198 250 
Love-lies-bleeding, see Amaranthus 
Lunaria, see Honesty 
Lupin (Lupinus perennis), 93, 215 
Hairy (L. hirsutus), 61 
Yellow (L. luteus), 62, 93 
Lychnis, 212 

Chalcedonica, see Maltese Cross, 

Cali-rosa, see Rose of Heaven, 


coronaria, see Mullein Pink, 62 
Flos-cuculi, var. plenissima, see 

Ragged Robin, 64 
Viscaria, see Catchfly 
Lycium Chinense, and halimifol- 
ium, see Matrimony Vine, 335 
Lysimachia nummularis, see 

Moneywort, 335 
Lythrum salicaria, see Loosestrife 

Madia elegans, see Tarweed, 253 
Magnolia, 38, 49, 114, 133, 142. 
Named species, 147, 150, 

Chinese, see Yulan 

Cucumber Tree (Magnolia 
acuminata), 143, 147, 150 

Fraser*s (M. Fraseri), 150 

Great Laurel, see Large- 

Hall's, see Starry 

Large-flowered (M. grandi- 
fora, or fatida), 135, 150, 
158, 160 

Magnolia, Continued 

Large-leaved (M. macro- 

phylla), 150 
Soulange's (M. Soulangeana), 

150, 189 
Starry, Hall's (M. stellata), 

143, 150, 167, 173, 181 
Swamp Bay (M. glauca), 86, 

150, 189 
Yulan, Chinese, 49, 143, 150 
Mahonia, Ashberry (Mahonia 
Aquifolium), 74, 85, 169, 187 
Creeping (Berberis repens), 158 
Holly-leaved, 187 
Japan (B. Japonica), 158 
B. Nepalensis, 159 
Maidenhair, 84 
Maidenhair Tree (Ginkgo biloba), 

Mallow, Rose, Hibiscus Moscheu- 
tos), 83, 86, 87, 93, 208, 219 
Hybrids, 224 
Musk (Malva moschata), 224, 

Swamp, see Mallow, Rose 
Maltese Cross (Lychnis Chalce- 
donica), 62 
Malva moschata, see Mallow 
Man-of-the-Earth, see Moon- 
Manure, 22, 23, 238, 242, 299, 301 
Maple (Acer), 48, 77, 78, 141, 151, 
A. Pennsylvania, 151 
Japanese Dwarf (A. palma- 
tum, in many varieties: atro- 
purpureum, aureum, dis- 
sectum, sanguineum, etc.), 
72, 120, 144, 151, 181 
Norway (A. platanoides), 151 
Red (A. rubrum), 114, 151, 173 
Scarlet, see Red 
Silver, Soft (A. saccharinum 

or dasycarpum), 142, 151 
Striped (A. Pennsylvania), 151 
Sugar (A. saccharum), 145, 151 
Swamp, see Red 
Wie^s Cutleaved (A. saccha- 
rinum, var. fVieri), 151 
Marigold, 50, 233, 242, 244, 245 
African (Tagetes erecta), 250 
French (T. patula), 250 
Marsh (Caltha palustris), 86, 

105, 115, 120, 128 
Pot (Calendula officinalis), 250 
Marsh Marigold (CaftAa palustris), 

see Marigold 
Marsilia quadrifolia, see Clover, 

Marvel of Peru, see Four o'Clock,59 
Matricaria indora, see Chamomile, 

Matrimony Vine (LyciumChinense), 


L, halimifolium, 335 
Matthiola incana, var. annua, see 
Stock, Ten Weeks' 



UijApp\e(Podophyllum peltatum), 

Meadow Rue, Tall (Thalictrum 
aquikgifolium), 83, 86, 93, 
120, I27, 208, 212 

T. dioicum, 93 

Meadow sweet, (Ulmaria pettta- 
petala), 93. See also Spirea 

Mentzelia Lindleyi, see Bartonia 

Mertensia pulmonariotdes or Vir- 
ginia — see Cowslip, Vir- 
ginia, 230 
see Cowslip, Virginia, 230 

Mesembryanthemum crystallinum, 
see Ice Plant, 250 

Mignonette (Reseda odorata), 62 

2 45> 20 3> 3°° 
Milkweed Butterfly, Pleurisy Root 
(Asclepias tuberosa), 83, 84, 
89, 212, 270, 273 
Common (A. Cornuti), 93 
Swamp (A. incarnata), 93 
Milkwort, Fringed (Polygala pauci- 

folia), 93 
Milla (M. biflora), 278 
Mimosa pudica, see Sensitive Plant, 

Mimuius, see Monkey Flower, 225 

moschatus, see Musk, 251 
Mint, 45, 46, 54 

Cat, 214 
Mirabilis Jalapa, see Four o' Clock, 

Miscanthus Sinensis, see Eulalia 
Mist Flower (Conoclinium calesti- 

num), 108 
Mistletoe, 116 
Mitchella repens, see Partridge 

Berry, 93, 335 
Mitrewort, False, see False Mitre- 
wort, 91 
Moccasin Flower, see Lady's 

Slipper, 86, 92 
Mock Cypress, 251 
Mock Orange, Syringa (Philadel- 
phus coronarius), 165, 170, 
181, 182, 186 
Falconer's (P. Falconers), 182 
Golden, var. aureus, 182 
Gordon's (P. Gordonianus), 

Lemoine's (P. hemoinei), 181 
Scentless (P. inodorus), 182 
Moluccella ltevis, see Shell Flower, 

Monarda didyma, see Balm, Bee 
Moneywort (Lysimachia nummu- 

laria), 335 
Monkey Flower, 254 

Blue (Mimuius ringens), 225 
Red (M. cardinalis), 225 
Yellow (M. luteus), 225 
Monkshood (Aconitum Napellus), 

213, 225 
Monk's Pepper Tree, see Chaste 

Tree, 177. 
Montbretia (Tritonia), 281 

Moonflower (Ipomcea bona-nox), 


Man-of-the-Earth, Wild Potato 

(/. pandurata), 224, 225, 254 

Morning-glory (Ipomtea purpurea), 

251, 332 
Morus, see Mulberry 
Moss, 105, 115, 116 

Pink, see Phlox 
Mother-of-thyme, see Thyme 
Mountain Ash, 151, see Ash, 
Fringe (Adlumia), 332 
Laurel, see Laurel 
Mulberry, French (Callicarpa pur- 
purea), 182 
Native (C. Americana) , 182 
C. purpurea, 182 
Russian (Morus alba, var. Ta- 
tar ica), 152 
Mulch, 22, 205, 301, 322, 332 
Mullein Pink, Rose Campion 

(Lychnis coronaria), 62 
Muscari botryoides, see Hyacinth, 

Musk (Mimuius moschatus), 245, 

2 5> 
Mallow, 224, 254 
Myosotis, see Forget-me-not 
Myrica cerifera, see Bayberry 
Myriophyllum proserpinacoides, see 

Parrot's Feather, 129 
Myrtle, Periwinkle (Vinca minor), 

48, 62, 159, 198, 226, 335 
Wax (Myrica cerifera), see 


Nanny Berry, see Sheep Berry, 182, 

Narcissus, Genus, including Nar- 
cissus, Jonquil and Daffodil, 
groups: 262 et seq., 278 et 
seq. Named species and va- 
rieties, 279, 280 

Chinese Sacred "lily," 262 

Daffodils, 47, 58, 105, 196, 203, 
212, 261 et seq, 274, 279 et seq. 

Jonquil (N. Jonquilla), 262, 
276, 279 

Poet's (N. poelicus), 72, 196, 
212, 242, 261, 262, 279, 280 

Polyanthus 279 

Tasetta, 278 
Nasturtium (Tropaolum), 233, 236, 

*44. 245. 3 2 9> 33 1 . 33 2 
Dwarf (T. minus), 251 
r. officinale, see Cress 
Tall (T. majus), 251 
Native Plants for the Wild Gar- 
den, 81, 88 
Naturalistic Garden, 28, 69 
Nelumbo, see Lotus 
Nemophila insignis, 245, 251 
Nettle, Variegated (Lamium macu- 
latum, var. variegatum), 225 
New Jersey Tea (Ceanothus Ameri- 
can us), 182 

Nlcotiana Tabacum, see Tobacco 

Nigella Damascene, see Love-in-a- 

Ninebark (Pkysocarpus opulifo- 
lius), 86, 182 

None-so-pretty, see London Pride 

Nursery, First commercial in 
America, 49 
Home, 22, 203 

Nymphaa, see Water Lily 

Nyssa sylvatica, see Tupelo, Sour 
Gum 154, 

Oak (Quercus), 141, 142, 14; 
English (Robur or pedunculata), 

Mossy Cup (Q. macrocarpa), 

Pin (J>. palustris), 140, 152 
Red (j>. rubra), 142, 145, 152 
Scarlet (^. coccinea), 145 
White (Q. alba), 152 
Willow (3, Phellos), 152 
(Enothera amcena, see Godetia, 245, 
biennis, see Primrose, Evening 
fruticosa see Sun Drops 
Missouriensis, see Primrose 
Whitneyi, 249. See also Godetia 
Old-fashioned Garden, 45, 56 
Oleander, 169 
Oleaster, Russian Olive (Eleagnus 

angustifolia), 182 
Olive, 35 

Opuntia, see Prickly Pear, 227 
Orange, Hardy Thorny (Citrus 
trifoliata), 168, 189 
Mock, see Mock Orange 
Osage, see Osage Orange 
Orchid, 83, 91, 103, 116. See also 
Lady's Slipper 
White-fringed, 86 
Orchis, Yellow-fringed (Habenaria 

ciliaris), 96 
Ornamental Deciduous Trees for 
Lawns and Gardens, 146 
Grasses, 257, 285 
Ornithogalum umbellatum, 259, 281; 

see Star of Bethlehem 
Osage Orange (Toxylon pomi- 

ferum), 189 
Osmunda, see Fern, Royal 
Oswego Tea (Monarda), see Balm, 

Bee, 329 
Outdoor living rooms, 39, 350 
Oxalis acetosella, see Sorrel, 285 
Ox-eye Daisy, see Daisy 
Oxydendrum arboreum, see Sorrel 
Tree, 154 

Pachysandra, see Spurge 
Painted Cup, 329 
Palm, 24 
Pampas, see Grass 

3 6 4 

The American Flower Garden 

Fxnsy, Heartsease, Johnny-jump- 
up, Ladies' Delight (Viola 
tricolor), 48, 62, 225, 241, 
245, 251 261, 270, 300 
Tufted {V. cornuta), 108, 225 

Papaver, see Poppy 

Papyrus (Cyperus Papyrus'), 114, 
119, 129 

Pardanthus (Belemcanda Chinen- 
sis) see Lily, Blackberry, 277 

Paradisea Liliastrum, see Lily. 
St. Bruno's 

Parrot's Feather (Myriophyllum 
proserpinacoides), 129 

Partnership between Nature and 
Art, 3 

Partridge Berry (Milchella repens), 

Pasque Flower, see Anemone, 106 
Passion Flower, 350 
Pauhwnia imperialis, see Empress 

Tree, 148 
Pea, Perennial (Lathyrus latifolius), 

226, 335 
Perennial (L. grandiflorus), 226, 

Siberian (Caragana arborescens), 

Sweet (L. odoratus), 233, 240, 

244. *53. 33 2 
Peach, Flowering (Persica vulgaris, 
var. ]?. />/.), 143, 144, 153, 173 
Pear, Prickly, see Prickly Pear 
Pearl Achillea, see Achillea, 182 
Bush (Exochorda grandifora), 
Pennisetum, see Grass 
Pentstemon, Beard Tongue (P. 
barbatus), 106, 207, 213, 217 
Blue (P. dijfusus), 217 
Purple (P. Cobaa), 217 
White (lavigatus, var. Digitalis), 

Yellow (P. deustus), 217 
Peony, Herbaceous (Paonia offi- 
cinalis and albifora), 62, 195, 
196, 201, 206 « seq., 
226, 234. Named varieties, 
Tree (P. Moutan), 186 
Pepper Bush, Sweet, see Clethra 
Pepperidge Tree, see Gum, Sour, 

145. "54 
Perennials, 17, 48, 76, 77 

For a Thought-out Garden, 195 
List of, 216 
Periploca Graca, see Silk Vine, 336 
Periwinkle, see Myrtle 
Persica vulgaris, f. pi., see Peach, 

Petunia, 10, 104, 236, 239, 242, 344, 

(P. hybrida), 251 
Phalaris arundtnacea, see Grass, 

Ribbon, 286 
Phaseolus muliifiorus, see Fire 

Bean, 334 
Philadelphus, see Mock Orange 

Phlox, 74, 78, 85, 103, 195, 198. 

202, 207, 212, 213, 245, 306 

Annual (Phlox Drummondi), 

Creeping (P. subulata), 108, 
113, 196, 211, 212, 226, 234 
Drummondi, see Annual 
maculata, see Sweet William 
Perennial (P. paniculata), 63. 

Named varieties, 226 
Wild Blue (P. divaricata), 94, 
Phyllostachys, see Bamboo 
Physalis, see Cherry, Winter, 

Physocarpus opulifolius, see Nine- 
bark, 86, 182 
Picea, see Spruce 
Pickerel Weed (Pontederia cor data), 

94. "4. 120. "9 
Pieris foribunda, see Fetter Bush 

Japonica, see Rosemary, 160 
Mariana, see Stagger Bush, 185 
Pine (Pinus), 20, 27, 101, 138, 159, 

3 28 , 

Austrian (P. Laricio, var. 

Austriaca), 159 
Dwarf Mountain) P. Montana, 

var. Mughus), 101, 140, 159 
Pitch (P. rigida), 159 
Red (P. rcsinosa), 159 
Scotch (P. sylvestris), 159 
Umbrella (Sciadopitys «r- 

ticillata), 159 
White (P. Strobus), 140, 159 
Pink (Dianthus): 
Carnation, 213, 241 
■ Chinese, Snow or Star (Z?. CAi- 
nensis), 63, 246, 252 
Clove, Garden, Grass, Pheas- 
ant's Eye, or Scotch (D. plu- 
marius), 63, 196, 198, 227, 
Grass (Calopogon, orchid), 

see 91 
Fringed (D. superbus), 63, 211, 

Maiden (D. deltoides), 63 
Miss Simpkins (Dianthus hy- 
brid), 227 
Moss, see Phlox, Creeping 
Mullein, see Mullein Pink, 62 
Sea, see Sea Pink 
Pinus, see Pine 
Pinxter Flower, see Azalea 
Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea), 

116, 129 
Plane, American (Platanus occi- 
dentalis), 153 
Oriental (P. orientalis), 153 
Platanus, see Plane 
Platycodon grandifora, see Bell- 
Flower, Balloon Flower 
Pleurisy Root, see Milkweed, 

Plumbago, see Leadwort 

Plum, Flowering (Prunus triloba), 
144. 183 
Purple (P. Pissardi), 183 
Podophyllum peltatum, see May 

Apple, 93 
Pxonia, see Peony 
Pogoda Tree(So/>Wa Japonica),! 53 
Poinsettia, II 

Poker Plant, Red-hot (Kniphofa 
Pfitxeri), 74, 212, 271, 272, 
Polemonium, see Jacob's Ladder, 

Polygala paucifolia, see Milkwort 

Fringed, 93 
Polygonatum biforum, see Solo- 
mon's Seal, 85, 94 
Polypodies, 84 
Pond lily, see Water Lily 
Pontederia cordata, see Pickerel 

Poplar, 141, 142 

Carolina (Populus Caroli- 

niana), 153 
Lombardy (P. nigra, var. 

Italic a), 38, 153 
Tulip (Liriodendron Tulipifera), 

Poppy (Papaver), 10,48,73, 120, 

204, 215, 239, 242 el seq. 
Alpine (P. alpinum), 227 
California (Eschsckolzia Cats- 

fornica), 247 
Celandine (Stylophorum diphyl- 

lum), 90 

Com (P. R her as), 63, 252 

Horned (Glaucium luteum), 222, 

Iceland (P. nudicaule), 108, 227, 

Opium (P. somniferum), 63, 

Oriental (P. orientate), 10, 207, 

212, 214, 227, 265 
Plume (Bocconia cordata), 227 
Shirley, varieties of Com poppy, 

Water (Limnocharis Hum- 
boldti), 114, 119, 130 
Populus, see Poplar 
Portulaca, Rose Moss (Portulaca 

grandifora), 73, 104, 252 
Potentilla fruticosa, see CinquefoiE 
Pot Marigold, see Marigold 
Prickly Pear Cactus (Opun 

tia vulgaris), 227 
Primrose (Primula), 103 
Day, see Sun Drops 
English (P. vulgaris), 71, 108 
Evening ((Enothera biennis, 
var. grandifora), 86, 87, 221, 
Many-flowered (P. polyanthj), 
Primula, see Primrose 
Prince of Wales'sFeather.tee.rfmar- 
anthus, 246 



Privet (Ligustrum), 167, 210, 297 
Amoor (L. Amurense), 189 
California (L. ovalifolium), 189 
Regel's (L. /iiwa, var. Regeli- 
anum), 168, 183,190 
Prunus Avium, see Cherry, Flow- 
Japonha, see Almond, Flower- 
Pissardi, see Plum, Dark- 
triloba, see Plum 
Pueraria Thunbergiana, see Kudzu 

Pussy Willow, see Willow 
Pyracantha coccinea, see Thorn, 

Evergreen, 162 
Pyrethrum (Chrysanthemum coc~ 

cineum), 64, 212 
Pyrus foribunda, see Crab, Flower- 
ing) '47 
Iaensis, see Crab, Bechtel's, 147 

Quamash (Camassia esculents), 

Queen Anne's Lace, Wild Carrot, 

Quercus, see Oak 
Quince, Japan (Cydonia Japonica), 

168, 170, 173, 180, 190 

A dressed garden, John D. 

Sedding, 68 
A flower in a friend's garden, 

Miss Mitford, 206 
A garden is a lovesome thing, 

Thos. Edw. Brown, 290 
All is beauty, Robert Brown- 
ing, 80 
And all without, Edmund 

Spencer, 338 
A plot of ground, Dryden, 44 
Artificial rockery, Gertrude 

Jekyll, 98 
Art's mission, Taine, 9 
Art which doth mend nature, 

Shakespeare, 3 
Beautiful roses, Dean Hole, 

Best which lieth nearest, 

Longfellow, 164 
Colour, 235 

Crown imperial, Gerarde, 267 
Cultivation, John Evelyn, 232 
Daffodils, William Wordsworth, 

Educate the perception of 

beauty, Emerson, 164 
Epicurus, Abraham Cowley, 

Erring sweetness, Herrick, 76 
Flowers and plants that do best 

perfume air, Lord Bacon, 54 
Flowers which Netherlanders 

have introduced, Van der 

Donck, Adrian, Jo 

Quotation, Continued 

Herbs instead of drugs, George 
Herbert, 45 

I find you worthy, 20 

Laying out grounds, Words- 
worth, 2 

Modifying the appearance of a 
flower, Maeterlinck, 232 

Narcissus, Mohammed, 261 

Nature, Lamartine, 256 

Nature has the will but not the 

power, Aristotle, 5 
'Nature's sanctuary, Thoreau, 
Nikko, Japanese adage, 9 

Overcanopied with luscious 
woodbine, Shakespeare, 54 

Plant thou a tree, 134 

Pleasant flowers, Parkinson, 47 

Reply to a lady who knew what 
she liked, Ruskin, 7 

The best gardening composi- 
tions, Edward Andr£, 30 

The duty we owe to our gar- 
dens, Miss Jekyll, 216 

The old-fashioned English gar- 
den, John D. Sedding, 44 

The perfect flower garden, 235 

There is no such thing as a style 
fitted for every situation, W. 
Robinson, 14 

The water garden, Guy Lowell, 

The wild garden, W. Robin- 
son, 80 

To disguise the real boundary, 
Repton, 14 

Trees, Dr. O. W. Holmes, 132 

Twelve maxims, Geo. H. Ell- 
wanger, 194 

Vegetable monsters, Linnaeus, 

What is a garden? John D. 

When ages grow to civility and 
elegancy, Lord Bacon, 8 

Ragged Robin, London Pride 

(Lychnis Fhs-cuculi), 64 
Ever-blooming (L. Flos-cuculi 

var. plenissima), 64 
Sailor, see Bachelors' Buttons 
Rambler, see Rose 
Ranunculus, see Bachelors' Buttons 
Raspberry, Flowering (Rubus odor- 

atus), 183 
Rattlesnake Plantain, (Goodyera 

pubescens), 94 
Red Bud, Judas Tree (Cercis 

Canadensis), 55, 72, 85, 143, 

Red-hot Poker, see Poker Plant 
Reed, Giant or Great (Arundt 
"Don ax), 272 
var macrophylla, 128, 287 
var. variegatus, 287 

Reseda odorata, see Mignonette 

Retinispora, 160, see Cypress, Jap- 

Rhamnus, see Buckthorn 

Rhododendron, Rose Bay, Great 
Laurel (Rhododendron maxi- 
mum), 17,38, 73, 82 et sea., 
ioi» i°3> "S. '68,174, '75. 
Catawba (R. Catawbiense). 
Named hybrids of R. Cataw- 
biense and R. Ponticum, 160 

Rhodora, see Azalea 

Rhodotypos Kerrioides, see Kerria, 

Rhus Colinus, see Smoke Bush, 184 
laciniata, see Sumach, 186 
typhina, see Sumach 
venenata, see Sumach 

Ribes aureum, see Currant 

Richardia albo-maculata, see Cal- 
la, Spotted 

Rice, Wild, 114, 272 

Ricinus communis, zee Castor Bean 

Robinia hispida, see Acacia, Rose, 

Rock Garden, 99, 101, 332 
List of plants for, 106 
Rocket, Sweet Rocket, Dame's 
Rocket (Hesperis matronalis), 
64, 196, 228, 254 
Rosa, see Roses, 
Rosarian's Calendar, 305 
Roses (Rosa), 10, 36, 47, 50, 75, 198, 
For all purposes, 307 
Bedding, Bengal and Polyantha 

Groups, 309 
Bourbon, 229, 305, 318 
Brier, Yellow, 64, 306, 308 
Austrian Copper, 294 
Harrison's Yellow, 308 
Persian Yellow, 294 
Scotch, 294 

Sweet, Eglantine (R. rubigi- 
nosa), 47, 64, 294, 309 
Penzance hybrids, 294, 


Cabbage, Provence or Hundred- 
leaved (R. centifolia), 64, 316 

Carolina, 310 

China, Mme. Plantier, 308 

Climbing, for pillar and trellis, 

Damask (R. Damascena), 48, 64, 
212, 295, 306, 308 

Garden, 291, 318 

lucida, 94, 190, 308 

Moss (R. gracilis), 316 

muhijlora, 311 

Musk (R. Moschata), 311 

Perpetual, Hybrid, 310, 314, 
List of 316-318 

Polyantha, 295, 308, 309, 310, 

Prairie (R. setigera), 94, 293, 
310, 311 

3 66 

The American Flower Garden 

Roses, Continued 

Rambler, 138, 299, 308, 310 
rugosa, Japanese, 74, 168, 170, 
183, 190, 212, 292, 293, 294, 

3°5> 3 00 > 3° 8 
Shrubbery, List of, 308 
Tea, 17, 77, 242, 292, 295, 

2 99> 3°5> 3 o6 > 3°7 
List of 311-132 
Tea, Hybrid, 77, 306, 307, 


List of, 312-315 
Wkhuraiana, 309, 310, 311 
York and Lancaster, 47, 48, 64, 
Rose Acacia, see Acacia, 175 
Rose Bay, see Rhododendron 
Rose Campion, 62 
Rose, Christmas, 196, 219 
Rose of Heaven, 64 
Rose Mallow, see Mallow 
Rose Moss, see Portulaca, 252 
Rose of Sharon, 168, 170, 171, 175, 

183, 190, 201 
Rosemary, 45 

Rosemary, Japanese, Andromeda 
(Pier is Japonica), 157 
Wild {Andromeda polifolia), 160 
Rubus odoratus, see Raspberry, 

Flowering, 183 
Rudbeckia hirta, see Black-eyed 
laciniata, see Golden Glow 
Rue, Meadow, see Meadow Rue 
Rush, 114, 120, 

Japanese, see Eulalia, 286 
Russian Olive, see Oleaster 

Sage, Blue {Salvia azurea), 107 
Scarlet (5. splendens), 243, 

252, 329 
Silver (5. argentea), 228 
St. John's Wort {Hypericum Mas- 

erianum), 228 
St. Patrick's Cabbage, see London 

Salix, see Willow 
Salpiglossis {S. sinuata), 252 
Salvia, see Sage 

Sambucus nigra, see Elder, 178 
Sanguinaria Canadensis, see Blood 

Sarracenia purpurea, see Pitcher 

Savin {Juniperus Sabina), 161 
Saxifrage {Saxifraga), 85, 103, 

109, 196, 211 
Pyramidal {S. cotyledon), 109 
Thick-leaved {S. crassifolia), 

umbrosa, see London Pride, 

Scabious, Sweet {Scabiosa atro- 

purpurea), 253 
Schizophragma hydrangeoides, see 


Schizanthus pinnatus, see Butter- 
fly Flower 
Sciadopilys verticillata, tee Pine, 

Umbrella, 159 
Scilla, 72, 105, 259, see Squill 
bifolia, see Squill 
festalis and nutans, 260. See 

also Wood Hyacinths, 276 
Sibirica, see Squill 
Screens, 134, 136, 165, 331 
Sea Buckthorn {Hippophae rham- 

noides), 176 
Holly {Eryngium amethysti- 

mum), 228 
Lavender {Statice latifolia), 109 
Pink {Armeria maritima), 27, 

Sedges, 114, 120, 272 
Sedum, see Stone Crop 
Seed, 200, 203, 204, 239, 240 
Self-heal {Brunella grandifora), 

Senna, American {Cassia Mary- 

landica), 88 
Bladder {Colutea arbortscens\ 

Sensitive Plant {Mimosa pudica), 

Service Berry {Amelanckier) , 143 
Shadbush {Amelanchier Cana- 
densis), 72, 85, 143, 154, 166, 

Sheep Berry, Nanny Berry {Vibur- 
num Lentago), 182, 184 
Shell Flower {Moluccella Ixvis) ,252 
Shooting Star {Dodecatheon Mea- 

dia), 85, 109 
Shrubs, 17, 165 
List of, 175 
Shrubs and Trees for Hedges, 

Sidalcea Pink Beauty {Sidal- 

cea malvaflara, var. Listeri), 

228, 254 
Silene, see Catchfly 
Silk Vine {Periploca Grtsca), 336 
Silver Bell Tree {Halesia tetrap- 

tera), 184 
Silver Vine {Actinidia arguta), 336 

A. polygama, 336 
Skunk Cabbage {Symplocarpus 

fattdus), 94, 103 
Sky line, 133, 166 
Smilacina racemosa, see Solomon's 

Seal, False 
Smoke Bush {Rhus Colinus), 184 
Snakeroot, Black {Cimicifuga 

racemosa), 89 
Canadian {Asarum Canadense), 

White {Eupatorium agera- 

toides), 96 
Snake's Head, see Fritillary 
Snapdragon {Antirrhinum majus), 

228, 145, 254 
Sneezeweed {Helenium autumnale, 

var. superbum), 94, 229 

Sneezewort, see Achillea 
Snowball, see Viburnum 
Snowberry {Symphoricarpos raci- 

mosus), 170, 173, 184 
Snowdrop, Common {Galanthus 

nivalis), 258, 259, 281 
Giant (G. Elwesii, var. Whit- 

tallii), 281 
Windflower {Anemone sylves- 

lris), 230 
Snowdrop Tree, Silver Bell Tree, 

{Halesia tetrapiera), 184 
Snowflake {Leucojum vernum and 

astivum), 281 
Snow-in-summer {Cerastium tomen- 

tosum), 109 
Soapwort, Bouncing Bet, 81 
Soil, 17, 23, 103, 203 et seq. 
Solidago, see Goldenrod 
Solomon's Seal {Polygonatum bifo- 

rum), 94 
False {Smilacina racemosa), 85 

True, 85 
Somerset, see Balsam 
Sophora Japonica, Pagoda Tree, 

Sorbus, see Mountain Ash 

154 , 
Wood {Oxalis acetosella and 

0. Boweii), 285 
Spanish Bayonet, Adam's Needle 
{Tucca filamentosa), 74, 88, 
155, 229 
Sparaxis tricolor, see Wand Flower, 

Speedwell, Great Virginian {Ver- 
onica Virginica), 95 
Sphagnum, 115, 116 
Spice Bush {Calycanthus foridus), 
see Strawberry Shrub 
Benzoin odorijerum, 170, 184 
Spiderwort {Tradescantta Virgini- 

ana), 95, 229 
Spindle, Creeping {Euonymus 
radicans), 333 
Tree {Euonymus Japonicus) 
Spirea, 74, 144, 168, 170, 171, 173, 
Anthony Waterer {S. Bumalda 
var. Anthony Waterer), 170, 
arguta, 185 
Blue {Caryoptcris Mastacan- 

thus), 176, 213 
Bridal Wreath (5. Thunbergii), 

Goat's Beard, False, or Feathery 
Spirea {A st ilbe Japonica), 129 
Meadow Sweet (5. salicifolia), 

multi-flora, 185 

Plum-leaved {S. prunifolia), 185 
Steeple Bush, Hardhack {S. 
tomtntosa), 185 


3 6 7 

Spirea, Continued 

Thunberg's, see Bridal Wreath 
Van Houtte's (5. van Houtlei) , 
185, 190 
Spleenworts, 84 

Sprikelia formosissima, see Lily 
Spring Beauty (Claytonia Virgi- 

nica), 86, 95, 115 
Spruce (Picea), 135, 137, 161 
~B\\ie(P.pungens, vat.glauca),ldl 
Colorado Blue, 120, 137 
Douglas {Pseudotsuga Doug' 

lasii), 137, 161 
Engelmann's (P. Engelmanni), 

Roster's Blue, 161 
Norway (P. excelsa), 137, 161, 

Oriental (P. orientalis), 161 
White (P. afta), 137, 161 
Spurge, Mountain (Pachysandra 

terminalis), 108, 161, 335 
Squill (Scilla), see also Scilla: 
Siberian (S. Sibirica), 258, 260, 


Two-leaved (5. bifolia), 260 

var. Taurica, 281 

Stachys lanata, see Woundwort, no 

Stagger Bush (Pieris Mariana),\%$ 

Staphylea trifolia and colchica, see 

Bladder Nut 
Star Flower, Yellow (Slernbergia 
lutea), 285 
of Bethlehem (Ornithogalum 
umbellatum), 259, 281 
Statice lalifolla, see Sea Lavender 
Steeple Bush, see Spirea 
Sternbergia lutea, see Star Flower 
Stock, Ten Weeks (Matlhiola 
incana, var. annua), 65, 242, 

245. 2 53 
Stokes's Aster (Stokesia cyanea), 

109, var. a/6a, 109 
Stokesia cyanea, see Stokes's Aster 
Stonecrop (Sedum): 

Hybrid (S. hybridum), no 
Love Entangled (5. sexangu- 

lare), no 
Showy (5. spectabile), 228 
White (S. album), no 
Storax (Styrax Japonica and 

S. Obassia), 186 
Strawberry Bush (EuonymusAmeri- 
canus), 186 
Shrub (Calycanthus foridus), 

165, 186 
Tomato, see Cherry, Winter 
Styhphorum diphyllum, see Poppy, 

Celandine, 90 
Styrax, see Storax 
Succory, 81, 87 
Sultan, Sweet, 253 
Sumach, Stag Horn (Rhus typhina), 
85, 166, 170, 186 
Cut-leaved (var. laciniata), 186 
Poison (R. venenata), 186 
Smooth (R. glabra), 186 

Sundew, 116 

Sun Drops, Day Primroses (CEnt- 

thera fruticosa), 95, 228 
Sunflower (Helianthus): 

Annual(^f.ann««j)and varieties, 

50, 209, 212, 244, 253 
Double perennial (H. multi- 

fiorus, var. plenus), 229 
Maximilian's (H. Maximilian!), 

95> "9 
Slender (H. orgyaiis), 229 
Sweet Flag, see Iris 
Pea, see Pea 
Pepper Bush, see Clethra 
Sultan (Centaurea Moschata 

and Margarita:), 253 
William (Dianthus barbatus), 

48, 64, 205, 206, 213, 229, 

245, 254 
William, Wild (Phlox divaricata 

and maculata), 96, no 
Symphoricarpos racemosus, see 

N Snowberry 
vulgaris, see Coral Berry 
Syringa, see Lilac, also Mock 


Tagetes erecta and patula, see 

Tamarack (Larix Americana), 114, 

£. Europea, 154 
Tamarix (Tamarix Gallica), 186, 

Tanacetum vulgare, see Tansy 
Tansy (Tanacetum vulgare), 46, 81, 

95, 230 
Tarweed (Madia elegans), 253 
Taxodium distichum, see Cypress 
Taarws, see Yew 
Tecoma radicans, see Trumpet 

Thalia (Thalia divaricata), 129 
Thalictrum, see Meadow Rue 
Thorn Apple, see Jamestown 
Evergreen (Pyracantha coccinea 

var. Lalandi), 162 
White, 170 
Thuya occidentalis, see Arborvite 
var. pyramidalis, see Cedar, 
Thuya, 101 
Thyme, 45, 46 

Mother-of- (Thymus serphyllum) 

Wild, 54 
Tiarella cordi folia, see False Mitre- 
Tickseed, (Coreopsis), 206, 207, 
212, 220 
C. lanceolata, 230 
C tinctoria, 253 
Tilia, see Linden 
Toad Lily, see Lily 
Toadstools, 105 

Tobacco Plant (Nicotiana Taba- 

cum), 239, 242, 253 
N. alata, 253 
N. Sandera, 253 
Torenia Fournieri, see Wishbone 

Flower, 254 
Toxylon pomiferum, see Osage 

Tradescantia Virginiana, see 

Spiderwort, 95, 229 
Transplanting seedlings, 206 
Trees, 140, 141 
Wild Flowers, 81,83 
Trees, 17, 133 

List of, 146 
Trees and shrubs for hedges, List 

of, 187 
Tricrytis hirta, see Lily 
Trigidia pavonia, see Lily, Day, 277 
Trillium, see Wake Robin 
Tritoma, see Poker Plant, Red-hot, 

Tritonia, Montbretia (T. crocos- 

mtsfora), 281 
T. Pottsi, 281 
Trollius, see Globe Flower, 221 
Tropaolum peregrinum, see Canary- 
bird Vine, 333 
majus, and minus, see Nastur- 
Trumpet, Creeper, (Tecoma radi~ 

cans) 329, 336 
Tsuga Canadensis, see Hemlock 
Tuberose (Polianthes tuberosa), 28 1 
Tuberous and Bulbous Plants, List 

of, 273 
Tufted Pansy, see Pansy 
Tulip (Tulipa), 47, 50, 70, 105, 

212, 242, 257, 261, 264, 26;, 

266, 267, 270, 293 
Bedding (T. suaveolens) 

List of named species and 

varieties, 282-285 
Mariposa, 285 
Tulip Tree (Liriodendron tulipi- 

fera), 114, 142, 153 
Tupelo, see Gum, Sour, 154 
Turk's Cap, see Lily 
Turtle Head, 86 
Typha latifolia, see Bulrush 

Ulmaria pentapetala, see Meadow- 
Ulmus, see Elm 
Umbrella Pine, see Pine 

Plant (Cyperus aIlernifolius\ 
Uniola latifolia, see Grass 
Utricularia, see Bladderwort 

Valerian, Garden Heliotrope (Vale- 
riana officinalis), 48, 65, 212, 
213, 241, 266 

Varnish Tree (Kalreuteria pant* 

culm a), 154 

3 68 

The American Flower Garden 

Venus's Fly-trap, 1 16 

Americana, see Brook Lime, 127 
Long-leaved {Veronica longi folia 
and spicata, and var. sub- 
sessilis), 65, 230 
Virginica, see Speedwell, Great 
Virginian, 95 
Viburnum, 83, 85, 115, 116, 170 
acerfolium, see Dockmackie, 178 
dentatum, see Arrow Wood, 187 
Lantana, see Wayfaring Tree, 


Lentago, see Sheep Berry or 

Nanny Berry, 184 
Opulus, var. sterile, see Snow- 
ball, 184 
tomentosum, see Japanese Snow- 
ball, 184 
Victoria regia, 114, 122 
Vinca minor, see Myrtle 
Vines, 321 

List of, 332 
Viola, see Violet and Pansy 
Violet {Viola odorata), 50, 65, 85, 
95, 206, 241, 261 
var. California, 65 
var. Russian, 65, 211 
Dog's Tooth, see Dog's Tooth 

Homed (V. cornuta), 108 
Wild (V. cucullata), 95 
Virginia Creeper, 52, 53 

Ampelopsis quinquefolia,_$z, 
53, 326, 336 
Virgin's Bower (Clematis Virgini- 

ana), see Clematis, 336 
Vitex, see Chaste Tree, 177 
Fitis Coignetia, see Crimson Glory, 

333 , , 

Labrusca, see Grape, River-bank 
vuipina, see Grape, Foi, 334. 

Wake Robin, Wood Lily {Trillium), 
83, 85, 86, 96, 105, 115, 
269, 281,285 
Purple (T. erectum), 96 
White {T. grandifiorum), 96 

Wallflower {Cheiranthus Cheiri), 

65, 230, 245, 254 
Walnut, Black (Juglans nigra), 

Wand Flower {Sparaxis tricolor), 

Water, Arum, see Arum 
Clover, see Clover 
Cress, see Cress 
Garden, 28, 113, 272, 
Garden, List of plants for, 

Hyacinth, see Hyacinth 
Poppy, see Poppy 
Shield {Brasenia ptltata), 130 
Snail, 123 
Water Lily (Nymphxa), 113,117, 
118, 119, 121, 123 
List of named varieties, 124, 
125, 126. 
Watsenia QV. Ardernei), 285 
W. iridifolia var. 0*Brieni, 
Wayfaring Tree {Viburnum lan- 
lana), 187 
Weigela {Diervilla florida), 168, 
170, 187, 
List of named varieties 187 
Wild Carrot, 81 

Flowers, cultivation of, 87,88, 
Garden, 28, 87 
Potato, see Moonflower 
Willow, 71, 141, 142 

Herb {Epilobium angusti- 

folium), 96 
Oak, see Oak 
Pussy {S. discolor), 144, 155, 

Rosemary {S. incana), 155 
Weeping {Salix Babylonica 
varieties aurea and dolorosa), 

144, 154. ISS 
Windflower {Anemone nemorosa) 

9 6 > 2 73 
A. Pennsylvanica, 96 
Snowdrop, see Snowdrop, 23c 
Window boxes, 237 
Wintergreen {Gauhkeria procum- 
bens), 96 

Wishbone Flower {Torenia Four- 

nieri), 254 
Wistaria, 74, 327, 328, 329 

American {W. speciosd), 336 
Chinese QV. Chinensis), 336 
Japanese {fV. multijuga), 336 
Witch Hazel (Hamamelis Fir- 
giniana), 170, 187 
H. Japonica, 187 
Woodbine, see Honeysuckle, also 

Virginia Creeper 
Woundwort, Wolly {Stachys Idnata) 

Xanthorrhixa apiifolia, see Yellow 

Xeranthemum annuum, see Ever- 

Yam, see Cinnamon vine 
Yarrow, 81 

Achillea Millefolium, 96, no 
var. roseum, 96 
Yellow Root {Xanthorrhiza Apii- 
folia), 187 
Wood {Cladrastis tinctoria, Fir- 
gilia lutea), 155 
Yew {Taxus), 17, 38, 138, 188 
Canadian {T. Canadensis), 

English {T. baccata) 138, 162 
Irish, 138 
Japanese {T. cuspidata), 138, 

Japanese Dwarf {T. cuspidata 

var. brevi folia) 162 
Korean {Cephalotaxus pedun- 
culata, var. fasti giata), 138 
Yucca flamentosa, 272, see Spanish 

Zea Mays, see Corn 

Zebra Grass {Miscanthus Sinensis, 

var. Zebrinus), 287 
Zinnia {Zinnia elegans), 240, 242, 

*44. *45> 154