<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_046" id="Page_046"></SPAN>[046]</div>
<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
<h4>APRIL</h4>
<blockquote><p>Woodland spring flowers — Daffodils in the copse — Grape
Hyacinths and other spring bulbs — How best to plant them —
Flowering shrubs — Rock-plants — Sweet scents of April —
Snowy Mespilus, Marsh Marigolds, and other spring flowers —
Primrose garden — Pollen of Scotch Fir — Opening seed-pods of
Fir and Gorse — Auriculas — Tulips — Small shrubs for
rock-garden — Daffodils as cut flowers — Lent Hellebores —
Primroses — Leaves of wild Arum.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><br/>In early April there is quite a wealth of flower among plants that
belong half to wood and half to garden. <i>Epimedium pinnatum</i>, with its
delicate, orchid-like spike of pale-yellow bloom, flowers with its last
year's leaves, but as soon as it is fully out the young leaves rush up,
as if hastening to accompany the flowers. <i>Dentaria pinnata</i>, a woodland
plant of Switzerland and Austria, is one of the handsomest of the
white-flowered <i>crucifer�</i>, with well-filled heads of twelve to fifteen
flowers, and palmate leaves of freshest green. Hard by, and the best
possible plant to group with it, is the lovely Virginian Cowslip
(<i>Mertensia virginica</i>), the very embodiment of the freshness of early
spring. The sheaf of young leafage comes almost black out <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_047" id="Page_047"></SPAN>[047]</span>of
the ground, but as the leaves develop, their dull, lurid colouring
changes to a full, pale green of a curious texture, quite smooth, and
yet absolutely unreflecting. The dark colouring of the young leaves now
only remains as a faint tracery of veining on the backs of the leaves
and stalks, and at last dies quite away as the bloom expands. The flower
is of a rare and beautiful quality of colour, hard to describe—a
rainbow-flower of purple, indigo, full and pale blue, and daintiest
lilac, full of infinite variety and indescribable charm. The flowers are
in terminal clusters, richly filled; lesser clusters springing from the
axils of the last few leaves and joining with the topmost one to form a
gracefully drooping head. The lurid colouring of the young leaves is
recalled in the flower-stems and calix, and enhances the colour effect
of the whole. The flower of the common Dog-tooth Violet is over, but the
leaves have grown larger and handsomer. They look as if, originally of a
purplish-red colour, some liquid had been dropped on them, making
confluent pools of pale green, lightest at the centre of the drop. The
noblest plant of the same family (<i>Erythronium giganteum</i>) is now in
flower—a striking and beautiful wood plant, with turn-cap shaped
flowers of palest straw-colour, almost white, and large leaves, whose
markings are not drop-like as in the more familiar kind, but are
arranged in a regular sequence of bold splashings, reminding one of a
<i>Maranta</i>. The flowers, single or in pairs, rise on stems a foot or
fifteen <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_048" id="Page_048"></SPAN>[048]</span>inches high; the throat is beautifully marked with
flames of rich bay on a yellow ground, and the handsome group of
golden-anthered stamens and silvery pistil make up a flower of singular
beauty and refinement. That valuable Indian Primrose, <i>P. denticulata</i>,
is another fine plant for the cool edge or shady hollows of woodland in
rather good, deep soil.</p>
<p>But the glory of the copse just now consists in the great stretches of
Daffodils. Through the wood run shallow, parallel hollows, the lowest
part of each depression some nine paces apart. Local tradition says they
are the remains of old pack-horse roads; they occur frequently in the
forest-like heathery uplands of our poor-soiled, sandy land, running,
for the most part, three or four together, almost evenly side by side.
The old people account for this by saying that when one track became too
much worn another was taken by its side. Where these pass through the
birch copse the Daffodils have been planted in the shallow hollows of
the old ways, in spaces of some three yards broad by thirty or forty
yards long—one kind at a time. Two of such tracks, planted with
<i>Narcissus princeps</i> and <i>N. Horsfieldi</i>, are now waving rivers of
bloom, in many lights and accidents of cloud and sunshine full of
pictorial effect. The planting of Daffodils in this part of the copse is
much better than in any other portions where there were no guiding
track-ways, and where they were planted in haphazard sprinklings.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/48_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="265" alt="Daffodils in the Copse." title="" /> <span class="caption">Daffodils in the Copse.</span></div>
<p>The Grape Hyacinths are now in full bloom. It <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_049" id="Page_049"></SPAN>[049]</span>is well to
avoid the common one (<i>Muscari racemosum</i>), at any rate in light soils,
where it becomes a troublesome weed. One of the best is <i>M. conicum</i>;
this, with the upright-leaved <i>M. botryoides</i>, and its white variety,
are the best for general use, but the Plume Hyacinth, which flowers
later, should have a place. <i>Ornithogalum nutans</i> is another of the
bulbous plants that, though beautiful in flower, becomes so pestilent a
weed that it is best excluded.</p>
<p>Where and how the early flowering bulbs had best be planted is a
question of some difficulty. Perhaps the mixed border, where they are
most usually put, is the worst place of all, for when in flower they
only show as forlorn little patches of bloom rather far apart, and when
their leaves die down, leaving their places looking empty, the ruthless
spade or trowel stabs into them when it is desired to fill the space
with some other plant. Moreover, when the border is manured and partly
dug in the autumn, it is difficult to avoid digging up the bulbs just
when they are in full root-growth. Probably the best plan is to devote a
good space of cool bank to small bulbs and hardy ferns, planting the
ferns in such groups as will leave good spaces for the bulbs; then as
their leaves are going the fern fronds are developing and will cover the
whole space. Another way is to have them among any groups of newly
planted small shrubs, to be left there for spring blooming until the
shrubs have covered their allotted space.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_050" id="Page_050"></SPAN>[050]</span>Many flowering shrubs are in beauty. <i>Andromeda floribunda</i>
still holds its persistent bloom that has endured for nearly two months.
The thick, drooping, tassel-like bunches of bloom of <i>Andromeda
japonica</i> are just going over. <i>Magnolia stellata</i>, a compact bush some
five feet high and wide, is white with the multitude of its starry
flowers; individually they look half double, having fourteen to sixteen
petals. <i>Forsythia suspensa</i>, with its graceful habit and tender yellow
flower, is a much better shrub than <i>F. viridissima</i>, though, strangely
enough, that is the one most commonly planted. Corchorus, with its
bright-yellow balls, the fine old rosy Ribes, the Japan Quinces and
their salmon-coloured relative <i>Pyrus Mauleii</i>, <i>Spir�a Thunbergi</i>, with
its neat habit and myriads of tiny flowers, these make frequent points
of beauty and interest.</p>
<p>In the rock-garden, <i>Cardamine trifoliata</i> and <i>Hutchinsia alpina</i> are
conspicuous from their pure white flowers and neat habit; both have
leaves of darkest green, as if the better to show off the bloom.
<i>Ranunculus montanus</i> fringes the cool base of a large stone; its whole
height not over three inches, though its bright-yellow flowers are
larger than field buttercups. The surface of the petals is curiously
brilliant, glistening and flashing like glass. <i>Corydalis capnoides</i> is
a charming rock-plant, with flowers of palest sulphur colour, one of the
neatest and most graceful of its family.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/50_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="266" alt="Magnolia stellata." title="" /> <span class="caption">Magnolia stellata.</span></div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image51" id="image51"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/51_a.jpg" width-obs="271" height-obs="400" alt="Daffodils among Junipers where Garden Joins Copse." title="" /> <span class="caption">Daffodils among Junipers where Garden Joins Copse.</span></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_051" id="Page_051"></SPAN>[051]</span>Border plants are pushing up vigorous green growth; finest of
all are the Veratrums, with their bold, deeply-plaited leaves of
brilliant green. Delphiniums and Oriental Poppies have also made strong
foliage, and Daylilies are conspicuous from their fresh masses of pale
greenery. Flag Iris have their leaves three parts grown, and P�onies are
a foot or more high, in all varieties of rich red colouring. It is a
good plan, when they are in beds or large groups, to plant the
dark-flowered Wallflowers among them, their colour making a rich harmony
with the reds of the young P�ony growths.</p>
<p>There are balmy days in mid-April, when the whole garden is fragrant
with Sweetbriar. It is not "fast of its smell," as Bacon says of the
damask rose, but gives it so lavishly that one cannot pass near a plant
without being aware of its gracious presence. Passing upward through the
copse, the warm air draws a fragrance almost as sweet, but infinitely
more subtle, from the fresh green of the young birches; it is like a
distant whiff of Lily of the Valley. Higher still the young leafage of
the larches gives a delightful perfume of the same kind. It seems as if
it were the office of these mountain trees, already nearest the high
heaven, to offer an incense of praise for their new life.</p>
<p>Few plants will grow under Scotch fir, but a notable exception is the
Whortleberry, now a sheet of brilliant green, and full of its
arbutus-like, pink-tinged <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_052" id="Page_052"></SPAN>[052]</span>flower. This plant also has a
pleasant scent in the mass, difficult to localise, but coming in whiffs
as it will.</p>
<p>The snowy Mespilus (<i><ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Amelancheir'">Amelanchier</ins></i>) shows like puffs of smoke among the
firs and birches, full of its milk-white, cherry-like bloom—a true
woodland shrub or small tree. It loves to grow in a thicket of other
trees, and to fling its graceful sprays about through their branches. It
is a doubtful native, but naturalised and plentiful in the neighbouring
woods. As seen in gardens, it is usually a neat little tree of shapely
form, but it is more beautiful when growing at its own will in the high
woods.</p>
<p>Marshy hollows in the valleys are brilliant with Marsh Marigold (<i>Caltha
palustris</i>); damp meadows have them in plenty, but they are largest and
handsomest in the alder-swamps of our valley bottoms, where their great
luscious clumps rise out of pools of black mud and water.</p>
<p><i>Adonis vernalis</i> is one of the brightest flowers of the middle of
April, the flowers looking large for the size of the plant. The
bright-yellow, mostly eight-petalled, blooms are comfortably seated in
dense, fennel-like masses of foliage. It makes strong tufts, that are
the better for division every four years. The spring Bitter-vetch
(<i>Orobus vernus</i>) blooms at the same time, a remarkably clean-looking
plant, with its cheerful red and purple blossom and handsomely divided
leaves. It is one of the toughest of plants to divide, the mass of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_053" id="Page_053"></SPAN>[053]</span>black root is like so much wire. It is a good plan with plants
that have such roots, when dividing-time comes, to take the clumps to a
strong bench or block and cut them through at the crown with a sharp
cold-chisel and hammer. Another of the showiest families of plants of
the time is <i>Doronicum</i>. <i>D. Austriacum</i> is the earliest, but it is
closely followed by the fine <i>D. Plantagineum</i>. The large form of wood
Forget-me-not (<i>Myosotis sylvatica major</i>) is in sheets of bloom,
opening pink and changing to a perfect blue. This is a great improvement
on the old smaller one. Grouped with it, as an informal border, and in
patches running through and among its clumps, is the Foam-flower
(<i>Tiarella cordifolia</i>), whose flower in the mass looks like the wreaths
of foam tossed aside by a mountain torrent. By the end of the month the
Satin-leaf (<i>Heuchera Richardsoni</i>) is pushing up its richly-coloured
leaves, of a strong bronze-red, gradating to bronze-green at the outer
edge. The beauty of the plant is in the colour and texture of the
foliage. To encourage full leaf growth the flower stems should be
pinched out, and as they push up rather persistently, they should be
looked over every few days for about a fortnight.</p>
<div class="floatleft" style="width: 259px">
<ANTIMG src="images/53left_a.jpg" width-obs="259" height-obs="350" alt="Tiarella cordifolia." title=""/>
<span class="caption">Tiarella cordifolia. <br/>Height, 12 inches.</span></div>
<div class="floatright" style="width: 260px">
<ANTIMG src="images/53right_a.jpg" width-obs="260" height-obs="350" alt="Hollyhock, Pink Beauty." title=""/>
<span class="caption">Hollyhock, Pink Beauty.<br/> See page <SPAN href="#image105">105</SPAN>. <br/>Height, 9 feet.</span></div>
<p class="nofloat">The Primrose garden is now in beauty, but I have so much to say about it
that I have given it a chapter to itself towards the end of the book.</p>
<p>The Scotch firs are shedding their pollen; a flowering branch shaken or
struck with a stick throws out a <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_054" id="Page_054"></SPAN>[054]</span>pale-yellow cloud. Heavy rain
will wash it out, so that after a storm the sides of the roads and paths
look as if powdered sulphur had been washed up in drifts. The sun has
gained great power, and on still bright days sharp <i>snicking</i> sounds are
to be heard from the firs. The dry cones of last year are opening, and
the flattened seeds with their paper-like edges are fluttering down.
Another sound, much like it but just a shade sharper and more
<i>staccato</i>, is heard from the Gorse bushes, whose dry pods are flying
open and letting fall the hard, polished, little bean-like seeds.</p>
<p>Border Auriculas are making a brave show. Nothing in the flower year is
more interesting than a bed of good seedlings of the Alpine class. I
know nothing better for pure beauty of varied colouring among early
flowers. Except in varieties of <i>Salpiglossis</i>, such rich gradation of
colour, from pale lilac to rich purple, and from rosy pink to deepest
crimson, is hardly to be found in any one family of plants. There are
varieties of cloudings of smoky-grey, sometimes approaching black,
invading, and at the same time enhancing, the purer colours, and numbers
of shades of half-tones of red and purple, such as are comprised within
the term <i>murrey</i> of heraldry, and tender blooms of one colour, sulphurs
and milk-whites—all with the admirable texture and excellent perfume
that belong to the "Bear's-ears" of old English gardens. For practical
purposes the florist's definition of a good Auricula is of little value;
that is for the show-table, and, as Bacon says, "Nothing to the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_055" id="Page_055"></SPAN>[055]</span>true pleasure of a garden." The qualities to look for in the
bed of seedlings are not the narrowing ones of proportion of eye to
tube, of exact circle in the circumference of the individual pip, and so
on, but to notice whether the plant has a handsome look and stands up
well, and is a delightful and beautiful thing as a whole.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/55top_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="294" alt="Tulipa Retroflexa." title="" /> <span class="caption">Tulipa Retroflexa.</span></div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image55" id="image55"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/55bottom_a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="298" alt="Late single Tulips, Breeders and Byblœmen." title="" /> <span class="caption">Late single Tulips, Breeders and Byblœmen.</span></div>
<p>Tulips are the great garden flowers in the last week of April and
earliest days of May. In this plant also the rule of the show-table is
no sure guide to garden value; for the show Tulip, beautiful though it
is, is of one class alone—namely, the best of the "broken" varieties of
the self-coloured seedlings called "breeders." These seedlings, after
some years of cultivation, change or "break" into a variation in which
the original colouring is only retained in certain flames or feathers of
colour, on a ground of either white or yellow. If the flames in each
petal are symmetrical and well arranged, according to the rules laid
down by the florist, it is a good flower; it receives a name, and
commands a certain price. If, on the other hand, the markings are
irregular, however beautiful the colouring, the flower is comparatively
worthless, and is "thrown into mixture." The kinds that are the grandest
in gardens are ignored by the florist. One of the best for graceful and
delicate beauty is <i>Tulipa retroflexa</i>, of a soft lemon-yellow colour,
and twisted and curled petals; then Silver Crown, a white flower with a
delicate picotee-like thread of scarlet along the edge of the sharply
pointed and <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_056" id="Page_056"></SPAN>[056]</span>reflexed petals. A variety of this called Sulphur
Crown is only a little less beautiful. Then there is Golden Crown, also
with pointed petals and occasional threadings of scarlet. Nothing is
more gorgeous than the noble <i>Gesneriana major</i>, with its great chalice
of crimson-scarlet and pools of blue in the inner base of each petal.
The gorgeously flamed Parrot Tulips are indispensable, and the large
double Yellow Rose, and the early double white La Candeur. Of the later
kinds there are many of splendid colouring and noble port; conspicuous
among them are <i>Reine d'Espagne</i>, <i>Couleur de vin</i>, and <i>Bleu celeste</i>.
There are beautiful colourings of scarlet, crimson, yellow, chocolate,
and purple among the "breeders," as well as among the so-called
<i>bizarres</i> and <i>bybloemen</i> that comprise the show kinds.</p>
<p>The best thing now in the rock-garden is a patch of some twenty plants
of <i>Arnebia echioides</i>, always happy in our poor, dry soil. It is of the
Borage family, a native of Armenia. It flowers in single or
double-branching spikes of closely-set flowers of a fine yellow. Just
below each indentation of the five-lobed corolla is a spot which looks
black by contrast, but is of a very dark, rich, velvety brown. The day
after the flower has expanded the spot has faded to a moderate brown,
the next day to a faint tinge, and on the fourth day it is gone. The
legend, accounting for the spots, says that Mahomet touched the flower
with the tips of his fingers, hence its English name of Prophet-flower.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_057" id="Page_057"></SPAN>[057]</span>The upper parts of the rock-garden that are beyond hand-reach
are planted with dwarf shrubs, many of them sweetly scented either as to
leaf or flower—<i>Gaultherias</i>, Sweet Gale, Alpine Rhododendron,
<i>Skimmias</i>, <i>Pernettyas</i>, <i>Ledums</i>, and hardy Daphnes. <i>Daphne pontica</i>
now gives off delicious wafts of fragrance, intensely sweet in the
evening.</p>
<p>In March and April Daffodils are the great flowers for house decoration,
coming directly after the Lent Hellebores. Many people think these
beautiful late-flowering Hellebores useless for cutting because they
live badly in water. But if properly prepared they live quite well, and
will remain ten days in beauty. Directly they are cut, and immediately
before putting in water, the stalks should be slit up three or four
inches, or according to their length, and then put in deep, so that the
water comes nearly up to the flowers; and so they should remain, in a
cool place, for some hours, or for a whole night, after which they can
be arranged for the room. Most of them are inclined to droop; it is the
habit of the plant in growth; this may be corrected by arranging them
with something stiff like Box or Berberis.</p>
<p><i>Anemone fulgens</i> is a grand cutting flower, and looks well with its own
leaves only or with flowering twigs of Laurustinus. Then there are
Pansies, delightful things in a room, but they should be cut in whole
branches of leafy stem and flower and bud. At first the growths are
short and only suit dish-shaped things, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_058" id="Page_058"></SPAN>[058]</span>but as the season goes
on they grow longer and bolder, and graduate first into bowls and then
into upright glasses. I think Pansies are always best without mixture of
other flowers, and in separate colours, or only in such varied tints as
make harmonies of one class of colour at a time.</p>
<p>The big yellow and white bunch Primroses are delightful room flowers,
beautiful, and of sweetest scent. When full-grown the flower-stalks are
ten inches long and more. Among the seedlings there are always a certain
number that are worthless. These are pounced upon as soon as they show
their bloom, and cut up for greenery to go with the cut flowers, leaving
the root-stock with all its middle foliage, and cutting away the roots
and any rough outside leaves.</p>
<p>When the first Daffodils are out and suitable greenery is not abundant
in the garden (for it does not do to cut their own blades), I bring home
handfuls of the wild Arum leaves, so common in roadside hedges, grasping
the whole plant close to the ground; then a steady pull breaks it away
from the tuber, and you have a fine long-stalked sheaf of leafage held
together by its own underground stem. This should be prepared like the
Lent Hellebores, by putting it deep in water for a time. I always think
the trumpet Daffodils look better with this than with any other kind of
foliage. When the wild Arum is full-grown the leaves are so large and
handsome that they do quite well to accompany the white Arum flowers
from the greenhouse.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />