<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_059" id="Page_059"></SPAN>[059]</div>
<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
<h4>MAY</h4>
<blockquote><p>Cowslips — Morells — Woodruff — Felling oak timber —
Trillium and other wood-plants — Lily of the Valley
naturalised — Rock-wall flowers — Two good wall-shrubs —
Queen wasps — Rhododendrons — Arrangement for colour —
Separate colour-groups — Difficulty of choosing — Hardy
Azaleas — Grouping flowers that bloom together — Guelder-rose
as climber — The garden-wall door — The P�ony garden —
Moutans — P�ony varieties — Species desirable for garden.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><br/>While May is still young, Cowslips are in beauty on the chalk lands a
few miles distant, but yet within pleasant reach. They are finest of all
in orchards, where the grass grows tall and strong under the half-shade
of the old apple-trees, some of the later kinds being still loaded with
bloom. The blooming of the Cowslip is the signal for a search for the
Morell, one of the very best of the edible fungi. It grows in open woods
or where the undergrowth has not yet grown high, and frequently in old
parks and pastures near or under elms. It is quite unlike any other
fungus; shaped like a tall egg, with the pointed end upwards, on a
short, hollow stalk, and looking something like a sponge. It has a
delicate and excellent flavour, and is perfectly wholesome.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_060" id="Page_060"></SPAN>[060]</span>The pretty little Woodruff is in flower; what scent is so
delicate as that of its leaves? They are almost sweeter when dried, each
little whorl by itself, with the stalk cut closely away above and below.
It is a pleasant surprise to come upon these fragrant little stars
between the leaves of a book. The whole plant revives memories of
rambles in Bavarian woodlands, and of Mai-trank, that best of the "cup"
tribe of pleasant drinks, whose flavour is borrowed from its flowering
tips.</p>
<p>In the first week in May oak-timber is being felled. The wood is
handsomer, from showing the grain better, when it is felled in the
winter, but it is delayed till now because of the value of the bark for
tanning, and just now the fast-rising sap makes the bark strip easily. A
heavy fall is taking place in the fringes of a large wood of old Scotch
fir. Where the oaks grow there is a blue carpet of wild Hyacinth; the
pathway is a slightly hollowed lane, so that the whole sheet of flower
right and left is nearly on a level with the eye, and looks like solid
pools of blue. The oaks not yet felled are putting forth their leaves of
golden bronze. The song of the nightingale and the ring of the woodman's
axe gain a rich musical quality from the great fir wood. Why a wood of
Scotch fir has this wonderful property of a kind of musical
reverberation I do not know; but so it is. Any sound that occurs within
it is, on a lesser scale, like a sound in a cathedral. The tree itself
when struck gives a musical note. Strike an oak or an elm on the trunk
with a stick, and the <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_061" id="Page_061"></SPAN>[061]</span>sound is mute; strike a Scotch fir, and
it is a note of music.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/61_a.jpg" width-obs="267" height-obs="397" alt="Trillium in the Wild Garden." title="" /> <span class="caption">Trillium in the Wild Garden.</span></div>
<p>In the copse are some prosperous patches of the beautiful North American
Wood-lily (<i>Trillium grandiflorum</i>). It likes a bed of deep leaf-soil on
levels or cool slopes in woodland, where its large white flowers and
whorls of handsome leaves look quite at home. Beyond it are widely
spreading patches of Solomon's Seal and tufts of the Wood-rush (<i>Luzula
sylvatica</i>), showing by their happy vigour how well they like their
places, while the natural woodland carpet of moss and dead leaves puts
the whole together. Higher in the copse the path runs through stretches
of the pretty little <i>Smilacina bifolia</i>, and the ground beyond this is
a thick bed of Whortleberry, filling all the upper part of the copse
under oak and birch and Scotch fir. The little flower-bells of the
Whortleberry have already given place to the just-formed fruit, which
will ripen in July, and be a fine feast for the blackbirds.</p>
<p>Other parts of the copse, where there was no Heath or Whortleberry, were
planted thinly with the large Lily of the Valley. It has spread and
increased and become broad sheets of leaf and bloom, from which
thousands of flowers can be gathered without making gaps, or showing
that any have been removed; when the bloom is over the leaves still
stand in handsome masses till they are hidden by the fast-growing
bracken. They do not hurt each other, as it seems that the Lily of the
Valley, having the roots running just underground, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_062" id="Page_062"></SPAN>[062]</span>while the
fern-roots are much deeper, the two occupy their respective <i>strata</i> in
perfect good fellowship. The neat little <i>Smilacina</i> is a near relation
of the Lily of the Valley; its leaves are of an even more vivid green,
and its little modest spikes of white flower are charming. It loves the
poor, sandy soil, and increases in it fast, but will have nothing to say
to clay. A very delicate and beautiful North American fern (<i>Dicksonia
punctilobulata</i>) proves a good colonist in the copse. It spreads rapidly
by creeping roots, and looks much like our native <i>Thelipteris</i>, but is
of a paler green colour. In the rock-garden the brightest patches of
bloom are shown by the tufts of dwarf Wallflowers; of these,
<i>Cheiranthus alpinus</i> has a strong lemon colour that is of great
brilliancy in the mass, and <i>C. Marshalli</i> is of a dark orange colour,
equally powerful. The curiously-tinted <i>C. mutabilis</i>, as its name
implies, changes from a light mahogany colour when just open, first to
crimson and then to purple. In length of life <i>C. alpinus</i> and <i>C.
Marshalli</i> are rather more than biennials, and yet too short-lived to be
called true perennials; cuttings of one year flower the next, and are
handsome tufts the year after, but are scarcely worth keeping longer.
<i>C. mutabilis</i> is longer lived, especially if the older growths are cut
right away, when the tuft will generally spring into vigorous new life.</p>
<p><i>Orobus aurantiacus</i> is a beautiful plant not enough grown, one of the
handsomest of the Pea family, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_063" id="Page_063"></SPAN>[063]</span>with flowers of a fine orange
colour, and foliage of a healthy-looking golden-green. A striking and
handsome plant in the upper part of the rockery is <i>Othonna
cheirifolia</i>; its aspect is unusual and interesting, with its bunches of
thick, blunt-edged leaves of blue-grey colouring, and large yellow daisy
flowers. There is a pretty group of the large white Thrift, and near it
a spreading carpet of blue Veronica and some of the splendid
gentian-blue <i>Phacelia campanularia</i>, a valuable annual for filling any
bare patches of rockery where its brilliant colouring will suit the
neighbouring plants, or, best of all, in patches among dwarf ferns,
where its vivid blue would be seen to great advantage.</p>
<p>Two wall-shrubs have been conspicuously beautiful during May; the
Mexican Orange-flower (<i>Choisya ternata</i>) has been smothered in its
white bloom, so closely resembling orange-blossom. With a slight winter
protection of fir boughs it seems quite at home in our hot, dry soil,
grows fast, and is very easy to propagate by layers. When cut, it lasts
for more than a week in water. <i>Piptanthus nepalensis</i> has also made a
handsome show, with its abundant yellow, pea-shaped bloom and deep-green
trefoil leaves. The dark-green stems have a slight bloom on a
half-polished surface, and a pale ring at each joint gives them somewhat
the look of bamboos.</p>
<p>Now is the time to look out for the big queen wasps and to destroy as
many as possible. They seem to be specially fond of the flowers of two
plants, the <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_064" id="Page_064"></SPAN>[064]</span>large perennial Cornflower (<i>Centaurea montana</i>)
and the common Cotoneaster. I have often secured a dozen in a few
minutes on one or other of these plants, first knocking them down with a
battledore.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image65" id="image65"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/65top_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="298" alt="Rhododendrons where the Copse and Garden meet." title="" /></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/65bottom_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="298" alt="Rhododendrons where the Copse and Garden meet." title="" /> <span class="caption">Rhododendrons where the Copse and Garden meet.</span></div>
<p>Now, in the third week of May, Rhododendrons are in full bloom on the
edge of the copse. The plantation was made about nine years ago, in one
of the regions where lawn and garden were to join the wood. During the
previous blooming season the best nurseries were visited and careful
observations made of colouring, habit, and time of blooming. The space
they were to fill demanded about seventy bushes, allowing an average of
eight feet from plant to plant—not seventy different kinds, but,
perhaps, ten of one kind, and two or three fives, and some threes, and a
few single plants, always bearing in mind the ultimate intention of
pictorial aspect as a whole. In choosing the plants and in arranging and
disposing the groups these ideas were kept in mind: to make pleasant
ways from lawn to copse; to group only in beautiful colour harmonies; to
choose varieties beautiful in themselves; to plant thoroughly well, and
to avoid overcrowding. Plantations of these grand shrubs are generally
spoilt or ineffective, if not absolutely jarring, for want of attention
to these simple rules. The choice of kinds is now so large, and the
variety of colouring so extensive, that nothing can be easier than to
make beautiful combinations, if intending planters will only take the
small amount of preliminary trouble that is needful. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_065" id="Page_065"></SPAN>[065]</span>Some of
the clumps are of brilliant scarlet-crimson, rose and white, but out of
the great choice of colours that might be so named only those are chosen
that make just the colour-harmony that was intended. A large group,
quite detached from this one, and more in the shade of the copse, is of
the best of the lilacs, purples, and whites. When some clumps of young
hollies have grown, those two groups will not be seen at the same time,
except from a distance. The purple and white group is at present rather
the handsomest, from the free-growing habit of the fine old kind <i>Album
elegans</i>, which forms towering masses at the back. A detail of pictorial
effect that was aimed at, and that has come out well, was devised in the
expectation that the purple groups would look richer in the shade, and
the crimson ones in the sun. This arrangement has answered admirably.
Before planting, the ground, of the poorest quality possible, was deeply
trenched, and the Rhododendrons were planted in wide holes filled with
peat, and finished with a comfortable "mulch," or surface-covering of
farmyard manure. From this a supply of grateful nutriment was gradually
washed in to the roots. This beneficial surface-dressing was renewed
every year for two years after planting, and even longer in the case of
the slower growing kinds. No plant better repays care during its early
years. Broad grass paths leading from the lawn at several points pass
among the clumps, and are continued through the upper parts of the
copse, passing through <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_066" id="Page_066"></SPAN>[066]</span>zones of different trees; first a good
stretch of birch and holly, then of Spanish chestnut, next of oak, and
finally of Scotch fir, with a sprinkling of birch and mountain ash, all
with an undergrowth of heath and whortleberry and bracken. Thirty years
ago it was all a wood of old Scotch fir. This was cut at its best
marketable maturity, and the present young wood is made of what came up
self-sown. This natural wild growth was thick enough to allow of
vigorous cutting out, and the preponderance of firs in the upper part
and of birch in the lower suggested that these were the kinds that
should predominate in their respective places.</p>
<div class="floatleftnew" style="width: 260px">
<ANTIMG src="images/66left_a.jpg" width-obs="260" height-obs="350" alt="Grass Walks through the Copse." title=""/></div>
<div class="floatrightnew" style="width: 264px">
<ANTIMG src="images/66right_a.jpg" width-obs="264" height-obs="350" alt="Grass Walks through the Copse." title=""/></div>
<div class="nofloat" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 25px"><span class="caption">Grass Walks through the Copse.</span></div>
<p>It may be useful to describe a little more in detail the plan I followed
in grouping Rhododendrons, for I feel sure that any one with a feeling
for harmonious colouring, having once seen or tried some such plan, will
never again approve of the haphazard mixtures. There may be better
varieties representing the colourings aimed at in the several groups,
but those named are ones that I know, and they will serve as well as any
others to show what is meant.</p>
<p>The colourings seem to group themselves into six classes of easy
harmonies, which I venture to describe thus:—</p>
<p>1. Crimsons inclining to scarlet or blood-colour grouped with dark
claret-colour and true pink.</p>
<p>In this group I have planted Nigrescens, dark claret-colour; John
Waterer and James Marshall Brook, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_067" id="Page_067"></SPAN>[067]</span>both fine red-crimsons;
Alexander Adie and Atrosanguineum, good crimsons, inclining to
blood-colour; Alarm, rosy-scarlet; and Bianchi, pure pink.</p>
<p>2. Light scarlet rose colours inclining to salmon, a most desirable
range of colour, but of which the only ones I know well are Mrs. R. S.
Holford, and a much older kind, Lady Eleanor Cathcart. These I put by
themselves, only allowing rather near them the good pink Bianchi.</p>
<p>3. Rose colours inclining to amaranth.</p>
<p>4. Amaranths or magenta-crimsons.</p>
<p>5. Crimson or amaranth-purples.</p>
<p>6. Cool clear purples of the typical <i>ponticum</i> class, both dark and
light, grouped with lilac-whites, such as <i>Album elegans</i> and <i>Album
grandiflorum</i>. The beautiful partly-double <i>Everestianum</i> comes into
this group, but nothing redder among purples. <i>Fastuosum florepleno</i> is
also admitted, and <i>Luciferum</i> and <i>Reine Hortense</i>, both good
lilac-whites. But the purples that are most effective are merely
<i>ponticum</i> seedlings, chosen when in bloom in the nursery for their
depth and richness of cool purple colour.</p>
<p>My own space being limited, I chose three of the above groups only,
leaving out, as of colouring less pleasing to my personal liking, groups
3, 4, and 5. The remaining ones gave me examples of colouring the most
widely different, and at the same time the most agreeable to my
individual taste. It would have been easier, if that had been the
object, to have made groups <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_068" id="Page_068"></SPAN>[068]</span>of the three other classes of
colouring, which comprise by far the largest number of the splendid
varieties now grown. There are a great many beautiful whites; of these,
two that I most admire are Madame Carvalho and Sappho; the latter is an
immense flower, with a conspicuous purple blotch. There is also a grand
old kind called Minnie, a very large-growing one, with fine white
trusses; and a dwarf-growing white that comes early into bloom is
Cunningham's White, also useful for forcing, as it is a small plant, and
a free bloomer.</p>
<p>Nothing is more perplexing than to judge of the relative merits of
colours in a Rhododendron nursery, where they are all mixed up. I have
twice been specially to look for varieties of a true pink colour, but
the quantity of untrue pinks is so great that anything approaching a
clear pink looks much better than it is. In this way I chose Kate
Waterer and Sylph, both splendid varieties; but when I grew them with my
true pink Bianchi they would not do, the colour having the suspicion of
rank quality that I wished to keep out of that group. This same Bianchi,
with its mongrel-sounding name, I found was not grown in the larger
nurseries. I had it from Messrs. Maurice Young, of the Milford
Nurseries, near Godalming. I regretted to hear lately from some one to
whom I recommended it that it could not be supplied. It is to be hoped
that so good a thing has not been lost.</p>
<p>A little way from the main Rhododendron clumps, and among bushy
Andromedas, I have the splendid <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_069" id="Page_069"></SPAN>[069]</span>hybrid of <i>R. Aucklandi</i>,
raised by Mr. A. Waterer. The trusses are astoundingly large, and the
individual blooms large and delicately beautiful, like small
richly-modelled lilies of a tender, warm, white colour. It is quite
hardy south of London, and unquestionably desirable. Its only fault is
leggy growth; one year's growth measures twenty-three inches, but this
only means that it should be planted among other bushes.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/68_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="271" alt="Rhododendrons at the Edge of the Copse." title="" /> <span class="caption">Rhododendrons at the Edge of the Copse.</span></div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />