<p>The last days of May see hardy Azaleas in beauty. Any of them may be
planted in company, for all their colours harmonise. In this garden,
where care is taken to group plants well for colour, the whites are
planted at the lower and more shady end of the group; next come the pale
yellows and pale pinks, and these are followed at a little distance by
kinds whose flowers are of orange, copper, flame, and scarlet-crimson
colourings; this strong-coloured group again softening off at the upper
end by strong yellows, and dying away into the woodland by bushes of the
common yellow <i>Azalea pontica</i>, and its variety with flowers of larger
size and deeper colour. The plantation is long in shape, straggling over
a space of about half an acre, the largest and strongest-coloured group
being in an open clearing about midway in the length. The ground between
them is covered with a natural growth of the wild Ling (<i>Calluna</i>) and
Whortleberry, and the small, white-flowered Bed-straw, with the
fine-bladed Sheep's-fescue grass, the kind most abundant in heathland.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_070" id="Page_070"></SPAN>[070]</span>The surrounding ground is copse, of a wild, forest-like
character, of birch and small oak. A wood-path of wild heath cut short
winds through the planted group, which also comprises some of the
beautiful white-flowered Californian <i>Azalea occidentalis</i>, and bushes
of some of the North American Vacciniums.</p>
<p>Azaleas should never be planted among or even within sight of
Rhododendrons. Though both enjoy a moist peat soil, and have a near
botanical relationship, they are incongruous in appearance, and
impossible to group together for colour. This must be understood to
apply to the two classes of plants of the hardy kinds, as commonly grown
in gardens. There are tender kinds of the East Indian families that are
quite harmonious, but those now in question are the ordinary varieties
of so-called Ghent Azaleas, and the hardy hybrid Rhododendrons. In the
case of small gardens, where there is only room for one bed or clump of
peat plants, it would be better to have a group of either one or the
other of these plants, rather than spoil the effect by the inharmonious
mixture of both.</p>
<p>I always think it desirable to group together flowers that bloom at the
same time. It is impossible, and even undesirable, to have a garden in
blossom all over, and groups of flower-beauty are all the more enjoyable
for being more or less isolated by stretches of intervening greenery. As
one lovely group for May I recommend Moutan P�ony and <i>Clematis
montana</i>, the Clematis on a wall low enough to let its wreaths of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_071" id="Page_071"></SPAN>[071]</span>bloom show near the P�ony. The old Guelder Rose or Snowball-tree
is beautiful anywhere, but I think it best of all on the cold side of a
wall. Of course it is perfectly hardy, and a bush of strong, sturdy
growth, and has no need of the wall either for support or for shelter;
but I am for clothing the garden walls with all the prettiest things
they can wear, and no shrub I know makes a better show. Moreover, as
there is necessarily less wood in a flat wall tree than in a round bush,
and as the front shoots must be pruned close back, it follows that much
more strength is thrown into the remaining wood, and the blooms are much
larger.</p>
<p>I have a north wall eleven feet high, with a Guelder Rose on each side
of a doorway, and a <i>Clematis montana</i> that is trained on the top of the
whole. The two flower at the same time, their growths mingling in
friendly fashion, while their unlikeness of habit makes the
companionship all the more interesting. The Guelder Rose is a
stiff-wooded thing, the character of its main stems being a kind of
stark uprightness, though the great white balls hang out with a certain
freedom from the newly-grown shoots. The Clematis meets it with an
exactly opposite way of growth, swinging down its great swags of
many-flowered garland masses into the head of its companion, with here
and there a single flowering streamer making a tiny wreath on its own
account.</p>
<p>On the southern sides of the same gateway are two large bushes of the
Mexican Orange-flower (<i>Choisya</i> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_072" id="Page_072"></SPAN>[072]</span><i>ternata</i>), loaded with its
orange-like bloom. Buttresses flank the doorway on this side, dying away
into the general thickness of the wall above the arch by a kind of
roofing of broad flat stones that lay back at an easy pitch. In mossy
hollows at their joints and angles, some tufts of Thrift and of little
Rock Pinks have found a home, and show as tenderly-coloured tufts of
rather dull pink bloom. Above all is the same white Clematis, some of
its abundant growth having been trained over the south side, so that
this one plant plays a somewhat important part in two garden-scenes.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/72top_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="295" alt="South side of Door, with Clematis Montana and Choisya." title="" /> <span class="caption">South side of Door, with Clematis Montana and Choisya.</span></div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image72" id="image72"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/72bottom_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="299" alt="North side of the same Door, with Clematis Montana and Guelder-Rose." title="" /> <span class="caption">North side of the same Door, with Clematis Montana and Guelder-Rose.</span></div>
<p>Through the gateway again, beyond the wall northward and partly within
its shade, is a portion of ground devoted to P�onies, in shape a long
triangle, whose proportion in length is about thrice its breadth
measured at the widest end. A low cross-wall, five feet high, divides it
nearly in half near the Guelder Roses, and it is walled again on the
other long side of the triangle by a rough structure of stone and earth,
which, in compliment to its appearance, we call the Old Wall, of which I
shall have something to say later. Thus the P�onies are protected all
round, for they like a sheltered place, and the Moutans do best with
even a little passing shade at some time of the day. Moutan is the
Chinese name for Tree P�ony. For an immense hardy flower of beautiful
colouring what can equal the salmon-rose Moutan Reine Elizabeth? Among
the others that I have, those that give me most pleasure are Baronne
d'Al�s <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_073" id="Page_073"></SPAN>[073]</span>and Comtesse de Tuder, both pinks of a delightful
quality, and a lovely white called Bijou de Chusan. The Tree P�onies are
also beautiful in leaf; the individual leaves are large and important,
and so carried that they are well displayed. Their colour is peculiar,
being bluish, but pervaded with a suspicion of pink or pinkish-bronze,
sometimes of a metallic quality that faintly recalls some of the
variously-coloured alloys of metal that the Japanese bronze-workers make
and use with such consummate skill.</p>
<p>It is a matter of regret that varieties of the better kinds of Moutans
are not generally grown on their own roots, and still more so that the
stock in common use should not even be the type Tree P�ony, but one of
the herbaceous kinds, so that we have plants of a hard-wooded shrub
worked on a thing as soft as a Dahlia root. This is probably the reason
why they are so difficult to establish, and so slow to grow, especially
on light soils, even when their beds have been made deep and liberally
enriched with what one judges to be the most gratifying comfort. Every
now and then, just before blooming time, a plant goes off all at once,
smitten with sudden death. At the time of making my collection I was
unable to visit the French nurseries where these plants are so admirably
grown, and whence most of the best kinds have come. I had to choose them
by the catalogue description—always an unsatisfactory way to any one
with a keen eye for colour, although in this matter the compilers of
foreign catalogues are <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_074" id="Page_074"></SPAN>[074]</span>certainly less vague than those of our
own. Many of the plants therefore had to be shifted into better groups
for colour after their first blooming, a matter the more to be regretted
as P�onies dislike being moved.</p>
<p>The other half of the triangular bit of P�ony ground—the pointed
end—is given to the kinds I like best of the large June-flowered
P�onies, the garden varieties of the Siberian <i>P. albiflora</i>, popularly
known as Chinese P�onies. Though among these, as is the case with all
the kinds, there is a preponderance of pink or rose-crimson colouring of
a decidedly rank quality, yet the number of varieties is so great, that
among the minority of really good colouring there are plenty to choose
from, including a good number of beautiful whites and whites tinged with
yellow. Of those I have, the kinds I like best are—</p>
<div class="indent">
<p>Hypatia, pink.</p>
<p>Madame Benare, salmon-rose.</p>
<p>The Queen, pale salmon-rose.</p>
<p>L�onie, salmon-rose.</p>
<p>Virginie, warm white.</p>
<p>Solfaterre, pale yellow.</p>
<p>Edouard Andr�, deep claret.</p>
<p>Madame Calot, flesh pink.</p>
<p>Madame Br�on.</p>
<p>Alba sulfurea.</p>
<p>Triomphans gandavensis.</p>
<p>Carnea elegans (Guerin).</p>
<p>Curiosa, pink and blush.</p>
<p>Prince Pierre Galitzin, blush.</p>
<p>Eugenie Verdier, pale pink.</p>
<p>Elegans superbissima, yellowish-white.</p>
<p>Virgo Maria, white.</p>
<p>Philom�le, blush.</p>
<p>Madame Dhour, rose.</p>
<p>Duchesse de Nemours, yellow-white.</p>
<p>Faust.</p>
<p>Belle Douaisienne.</p>
<p>Jeanne d'Arc.</p>
<p>Marie Lemoine.</p>
</div>
<p>Many of the lovely flowers in this class have a rather <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_075" id="Page_075"></SPAN>[075]</span>strong,
sweet smell, something like a mixture of the scents of Rose and Tulip.</p>
<p>Then there are the old garden P�onies, the double varieties of <i>P.
officinalis</i>. They are in three distinct colourings—full rich crimson,
crimson-rose, and pale pink changing to dull white. These are the
earliest to flower, and with them it is convenient, from the garden
point of view, to class some of the desirable species.</p>
<p>Some years ago my friend Mr. Barr kindly gave me a set of the P�ony
species as grown by him. I wished to have them, not for the sake of
making a collection, but in order to see which were the ones I should
like best to grow as garden flowers. In due time they grew into strong
plants and flowered. A good many had to be condemned because of the raw
magenta colour of the bloom, one or two only that had this defect being
reprieved on account of their handsome foliage and habit. Prominent
among these was <i>P. decora</i>, with bluish foliage handsomely displayed,
the whole plant looking strong and neat and well-dressed. Others whose
flower-colour I cannot commend, but that seemed worth growing on account
of their rich masses of handsome foliage, are <i>P. triternata</i> and <i>P.
Broteri</i>. Though small in size, the light red flower of <i>P. lobata</i> is
of a beautiful colour. <i>P. tenuifolia</i>, in both single and double form,
is an old garden favourite. <i>P. Wittmanniana</i>, with its yellow-green
leaves and tender yellow flower, is a gem; but it is rather rare, and
probably uncertain, for mine, alas! <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_076" id="Page_076"></SPAN>[076]</span>had no sooner grown into a
fine clump than it suddenly died.</p>
<p>All P�onies are strong feeders. Their beds should be deeply and richly
prepared, and in later years they are grateful for liberal gifts of
manure, both as surface dressings and waterings.</p>
<p>Friends often ask me vaguely about P�onies, and when I say, "What kind
of P�onies?" they have not the least idea.</p>
<p>Broadly, and for garden purposes, one may put them into three classes—</p>
<div class="indent">
<p>1. Tree P�onies (<i>P. moutan</i>), shrubby, flowering in May.</p>
<p>2. Chinese P�onies (<i>P. albiflora</i>), herbaceous, flowering in June.</p>
<p>3. Old garden P�onies (<i>P. officinalis</i>), herbaceous, including some
other herbaceous species.</p>
</div>
<p>I find it convenient to grow P�ony species and Caulescent (Lent)
Hellebores together. They are in a wide border on the north side of the
high wall and partly shaded by it. They are agreed in their liking for
deeply-worked ground with an admixture of loam and lime, for shelter,
and for rich feeding; and the P�ony clumps, set, as it were, in picture
frames of the lower-growing Hellebores, are seen to all the more
advantage.</p>
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