Chapter VI.—General

In the cultivation of hyacinths it is impossible to keep to any fixed rule. Not only must every country and climate make its own, but every hyacinth has its own ways and customs, its own special qualities and characteristics. The most distinguished of their species exact a great deal of attention, care, and management.

“François Ist” finds great difficulty in producing offshoots, and great care has to be taken of the young bulb, but when once arrived at full growth it is not as subject to disease of various kinds as are other bulbs, and it does not die easily. It is the only bulb that still continued to command a high price twenty-five years after its first appearance; 100 florins were paid for a single bulb.

“Rien ne me Surpasse” is one of the most perfect blue, but it has such wretched, weak, faded, even crumpled leaves, one would think the poor thing was ill, but notwithstanding it produces a handsome, healthy-looking flower.

“Passe non plus ultra” also looks very deplorable as to its leaves, they seem hardly able to hold up, and remain lying flat upon the ground, though quite green and well.

On the other hand, “Og Roi de Basan” shoots up its leaves so straight and tall, and so large, that they seem quite out of proportion to others, and the flower is an extraordinary height, overtopping all the rest. The “Theatre-Italien” is a good red, but it grows very short, and comes out before its leaves, so that its head may be nipped by the frost.

“Marquise de Bonnac” is a very delicate colour, but it gives way in the stem before the flower is fully out. The stems seems to fade and dry up, and the flower falls on its face, and this is a very tiresome habit. But it does not seem to damage the bulb, which flowers regularly every year, notwithstanding these little accidents. A famous florist told me it was because it had a bad circulation, and the sap hung on the sides of the bulb, instead of running up the stalk. “Alcibiades” and “Beau-regard” are also subject to such accidents; but they can be prevented by planting the bulbs in November, that is, a month later than other sorts. These kinds give off a number of young bulbs. The bulbs which multiply very little and slowly have generally better constitutions, and do not perish so easily. White, with red, purple, or violet hearts are very subject to decay. “Gloria Florum Suprema” perishes easily, and its offshoots perish with it, and this is peculiar to this hyacinth, for most of those that perish easily also multiply quickly. The kind that multiply fast are generally furnished with more roots than the others.

Growers are mostly agreed that bulbs succeed infinitely better if taken up from the ground every year (though it does seem contrary to nature). It often happens that a bulb, if left in the ground, does admirably the first and second years, and sometimes a third year it does well, but after this period it usually catches some disease which turns into an epidemic, killing all the bulbs in its neighbourhood; it is too late then to find a remedy, and if lifted it will only rot on the shelves, as it would have done in the earth. One knows insects are more numerous one year than another, and thus they too may cause epidemics.

Lifting the bulb is also a method of preserving the young bulb, which otherwise would perish and decay from damp if left all the year round—or, as they are sometimes a foot or more below ground, the effort they make to force their shoots through that depth of earth is too much for them.

It has been observed that when the sap does not circulate freely in the bulb it is drawn up into the stem, and this is sometimes occasioned by overheating the room or green-house,—then it grows tall and weakly, the flowers are thin and deformed. The more the channels through which the sap runs into the stem are dilated by too much heat, the tighter they close again when the sap has finished its action, and the bulb becomes thinner than it should be, and it is exhausted for the next year’s growth and appears very languishing. One can see very well how this comes to pass when it is remembered that the next year’s flower is actually contained in the base of this year’s stem, therefore what weakens one weakens the other. If the bulb is very deep in the earth and the ground is hard, it cannot spread and enlarge itself with comfort, so the health of the bulb requires it to be lifted every year. Besides the necessity of separating and preserving the young bulbs which have to be replanted, there is yet another advantage to be gained in lifting, for then there is an opportunity of taking away decayed bulbs before the disease is able to spread further through contact with others.

Having given some ideas on the cultivation of hyacinths in general, perhaps it is as well to give in some detail an account of the particular (or individual) care and attention bestowed upon their bulbs by the Haarlem growers, and perhaps some hyacinth lovers may feel drawn to imitate their spirit. Haply if they meet with the same difficulties they may benefit by their experience and observations, and thus obstacles may be surmounted that stand in the way of the development of the ideal flower. These obstacles are often the result of soil, climate, and inexperience.

As a general rule, hyacinths require a light soil, which easily lets the water run through, but at the same time such a soil is soon washed out, and it thus in a short time loses its good qualities and richness. The sulphurous and oily qualities in the soil, that the hyacinth delights abundantly to suck out of the earth, would be washed away or evaporate speedily in such soil, even if the bulb itself did not actually exhaust the spot where it has grown, this is the chief reason why growers change their bulbs year by year. Damp is death to bulbs. In a damp soil bulbs can never be preserved for any length of time. The two general rules,—Choice of light soil, Avoidance of damp, are the very foundations of bulb culture. The “couches” or “beds” made by florists for their finest hyacinths are remade every year, they are also protected by caisses and layers of manure from the cold in winter, and they are shaded from the hot sun in spring by canvas awnings. The old soil (taken from the hyacinth beds) is carried to the garden borders, where other flowers are grown, such as tulips, lilies, Fritillaries, etc. The following year hyacinths are replaced in these borders, and succeed therein marvellously,—thus year by year the same earth bears alternately hyacinths and other flowers. If the reader’s patience is not exhausted entirely I must ask him to bear out a little longer, for I cannot without entering into very minute details give any intelligible idea of the qualities necessary to provide the sap with the kind of nourishment it seeks in the soil after the bulb is put into the ground.

In Haarlem they take two years to prepare the compost, or composed soil, which suits hyacinths so well. The first year a store of leaves are gathered together and laid in considerable heaps, so large that while they are rotting and becoming fit for use the sun cannot penetrate, for if they were spread about the sun would cause the salts and oils contained in the decayed leaves to evaporate, for this reason the heaps are not to be in places where they are exposed to the sun, nor in a damp place where water can sink in or stagnate. Growers do not gather in all kinds of leaves, they have observed that oak, chestnut, beech, and the leaves of the plane tree (which is now becoming common in Holland), and others of like nature, do not dissolve easily into earth; while the leaves of elm, wych-elm and birch, etc., are chosen because their loose and fibrous tissue dissolve more readily into soil.

In the same manner they lay up a heap of cow-manure, which is left to ferment en masse. Every country has its customs, and the Dutch customs make a real difference in the quality of the materials employed. All over Holland cows are kept in stalls from November to May only, and during this time they do not eat grass. All the summer they remain in the open, night and day, in the fields, so that manure is not kept or taken up in the summer months. In the winter, when the cows are fed on nothing but dry food, the manure is of quite another quality from the summer manure, when cows have grass. This may be useful to note for those who live in countries where manure is kept all the year round. Cows are tethered in stalls in so narrow a compass that one can hardly conceive how they can exist like this. They stand on a kind of platform between two trenches, before and behind them; in the front trench their food is put, which they can only get at by pushing their heads between boards, which also prevent them from reaching too far and pulling out the food, where it would be trampled under their feet. The second trench, which is deeper, is behind them to receive the manure, which is taken away and heaped up in a dry place, where it can easily drain and where the rain can also run off, for no water or wet is allowed to settle in or near the heap. As no straw whatever enters into the composition of this manure, it is not at all like the kind collected in other countries. I do not know if this is the reason, or why it is that in England, especially round London, hyacinth growers avoid using cow-manure as much as possible, the soil there being so stiff and rich that it suits them better to make it a little poorer, with an admixture of sand, than to heat it even with cow-manure, which is the lightest kind of manure there is. First a heap of leaf-manure, a second heap of cow-manure, and a third heap of sand is now made of sand brought from the dunes, or it can be dug out of the very ground beneath to the depth of some feet. Though all the soil about Haarlem and its neighbourhood is mainly sand, especially near the dunes, where most of the bulb fields are, yet they prefer to fetch sand from a distance rather than take any from the surface of their own ground. This sand should be as carefully examined as is the manure, so that, now that I think of it, I must enter into further details, which will be thought unnecessary by some people, but others will be glad to follow the spirit of our inquiry.

The nature of the soil in Holland proves that the country has undergone great geological changes, apart from the continual encroachments of the sea.

It seems that at a very distant period, perhaps before or after the Deluge, the country must have been covered over with forests, as were Germany and Gaul in later times.

Either in the great Deluge of Sacred Writ, or during one of the partial deluges that men of science speak of (but of which no one seems to have any positive knowledge), these trees must have been thrown down and laid on the ground in the direction of east to west, in such a manner that where they fell they form strata (or layers), which time has reduced to a thickness of six or eight inches at the most.

It may be that this layer of trees was at first exposed to the air, or (as is more likely) was for some time covered by the sea, which, depositing sand, pressed and consolidated it into the mass which we now see, and which is found in all parts of Holland and Zealand, and is known under the name of Darry or Derry.

It is very easy to perceive that it is old wood decayed into the earth and reduced to the loose consistency of a sort of brown charred coal. In some parts bits of the wood have been preserved whole and unchanged.

In the Bailey of Amstelveen, near Amsterdam, bits of wood are often disinterred which has still “heart” enough to be used as ordinary wood. Between Alphen and Leyden are to be found in several places whole tree trunks, ten or twelve feet long. The derry matter is very substantial, and it is very inflammable; it also holds water, so that it does not run through from the surface of the peat to the water in the soil below it. In Zealand, where it is easily taken up, it is forbidden under penalty of death[[6]] to carry away the peat, because the water underneath, which it retains, would do considerable damage in the island.

[6]. Two hundred years ago.

As we now know that piles and blocks of wood can last 2000 years in the earth without rotting, so we may conclude that these trees (which now compose the derry or turf) must have been much longer undergoing the various operations of nature which resulted in producing this change. No tree roots can penetrate this derry, and wherever sand does not cover it over a certain depth, no vegetation can grow. Water falling on the peat is held there, having no means of escape, and the sand on the top is, therefore, always moist and fresh in proportion as it is near the derry. If one digs a little hole in this ground, the water which “fattens” the sand collects in a moment and fills up the hole which has been made, and this becomes a running spring. These sort of springs exist all over Holland, and they generally go by the name of sand-wells. They are kept supplied only by rain, or by the water which filters down through the sand from the dunes, and this often to a great distance.

If bulb roots were to reach down to within a foot of this layer of peat they would be spoilt, and the bulbs would perish. The depth of the sand-layer over the peat is unequal and different in parts. By measuring it they test the value of the ground, and not less is the value measured by the length of time the sea has withdrawn from the surface. There is no doubt this sand is from the sea-bottom, whether it was the sea’s action that brought it, or whether it has been blown and driven by the wind. The dunes have so often shifted that a knowledge of the variations due to the shifting of the sand in the dunes is enough to account for sand-layers, for it can be driven very far indeed by wind from the sea.

A little while ago the village of Sheveling, near the Hague, was surrounded by the dunes, which were at that time some distance from the church, now it is much nearer,—the church cannot have moved. On the same coast the mouth of the Rhine has been choked with sand, and the sea now covers the castle of Bret, facing Catwick-sur-Mer. The castle can still be seen at certain seasons at low tide. The sea has remade other dunes, half a league farther inland. All along the coast near Haarlem, beyond the canal which connects Haarlem with Leyden, the main road cuts through these dunes in several places. In the island of Walcheren, in Zealand, at very low tide can be seen vestiges of the ancient town of Domburg, where they fish up statues of Nehellenia, a heathen goddess, and also early Roman inscriptions.

In the present day dunes 100 feet high separate the new Domburg from the one invaded by the sea, and the Zealanders, through their marvellous and inventive industry, have succeeded not only in fortifying themselves against encroachments from the sea, but have made very extraordinary dykes, like the one at West Cappel, which you cannot see when you are standing upon it, as it is nothing but a very long sloping bank or glacis of timber-work, but the slope is so gradual that the only resistance the water meets with is the long journey it has to go to reach to the summit of the dyke, which, at its level, is much higher than the sea.[[7]] But besides this they covered miles of the sea-shore with platted straw matting, which they plat on the shore itself,—this is to prevent the sea from carrying the sand away from its own shores. These mats have to be renewed almost yearly.

[7]. Two hundred years ago.

The sands of Haarlem are all more or less of this nature, and contain saline and sulphurous particles of matter; the under stratum of peat or derry prevent these from being absorbed into the ground. The sand also contains particles which collect in some places and form a very thin stratum of hard black matter, like that with which some minerals are coated, and this is not less injurious to vegetation than is the derry.

The great success the Dutch growers have had in cultivating bulbs which cannot be successfully propagated elsewhere is very much due to the presence of this sand, deposited by the sea on a matter which, fortunately, water cannot penetrate.

To return to the three heaps,—sand, cow-manure, and leaf-mould,—the sand is placed in large heaps to “ripen,” rather perhaps to lose some of the moisture. The growers from the three compose one general mass, which they arrange in the following order: First, they make a layer of sand; second, of manure; and third, of leaf-mould eight or ten inches deep; they then begin again making more layers in the same order, until their mass is six to seven feet high. The last layer is manure, but as this is apt to harden in the sun, they throw a little sand on the top. When this compound has fermented, six months, sometimes rather longer, it is mixed up and another heap is made, which is, however, again unmade and thoroughly remixed. When this soil has remained a few weeks to settle, it is carried to the beds, where it is laid to the depth of something like three feet.

George Voorhelm, in his book upon hyacinth culture, says that this manure should be composed of three-sixths of cow-manure, two-sixths of sand, and one-sixth of leaf-mould or of tan, and he for his part preferred fresh manure to that which had been kept a year (to ferment?). He especially warns amateurs against using horse, mule, pig, or sheep manures; also he cautions them against using mud or cold earth drawn from wells, or basins where the standing water and mud have to be occasionally cleaned out; also against any powdered stuff or manures picked up with dust from the street. He quotes persons who compose their soil of tan (which has already been in use and nearly lost its heat) with cow-manure and leaf-mould, using no sand at all.

When the soil is brought to the flower-beds they put the said quantity beneath the bulbs, making the earth quite flat and even, without pressure, and placing the bulbs upon the earth, not embedding them. Then they are looked over to see that the bulbs are arranged in the proper order or according to diagrams marked out for them. When their places have been fixed, more soil is brought to put over them, great care being taken to let the earth fall lightly on the bulbs, not to disturb their position. The last addition of earth is generally not more than three to four inches deep. In cases where the bulb has to be brought forward in its growth, or else kept back—and is therefore put at a greater or lesser depth in the earth—the gardener, in the latter case, places more soil under the bulb to raise it higher, and this is a much better method of putting in bulbs than making a hole with a dibble, or, as some do, thrusting the bulb itself into the earth with no tool and raking some earth over it, for this plan, besides hardening the earth all round the bulb (the hole forming a sort of gutter which holds water!) also runs a risk of bursting the bulb, which may be already showing roots, or young bulbs hidden within might be knocked off without its being perceived. The same method is used in planting bulbs in garden borders. The surface of the earth is taken off and laid on one side, the bulbs are placed in rows, and are very carefully re-covered with the soil which was laid upon the side.

The frames used over show flower-beds should be raised not more than a foot above the earth, and not less than half a foot. If too high, the air dries the roots; if too low, the damp (from the vapour) may reach them. The back of the frame should be buried rather deep, so that when it is necessary to cover the flowers with planks, the frame will be able to support them, or planks must be put at the back and sides, fitting into each other, upon which those which form the roof over the flowers can rest. The frames should be slanting from the back downwards to the front, to let the rain run off and prevent it from dripping into the bed. If the cold is very intense, the planks may be covered with manure to prevent the frost from penetrating beneath. If the season is a fair one, the flowers may be given a little air; but in cold seasons it is a risky thing to do, because the early bedding plants are exceedingly tender, and the heat of the manure, or whatever is provided to shelter them from cold air, causes a damp vapour to rise inside the frames, and as this cannot evaporate it falls back upon the flowers, covering them with a little dew, which, if the cold air were admitted, would freeze directly. It only takes an instant for young buds to freeze, then the flowers come out, looking dried up, with burnt tips. When the cold weather is past the manure is taken off, and air is admitted to the beds for a few hours in the daytime, care being taken to cover up again at nightfall. The manure which serves to protect the bulbs from frost also brings forward young shoots, so that they begin to show earlier in hot-beds than in garden borders. The slowest and latest sorts begin the earliest to sprout. They are therefore purposely not planted so deep in the ground, that they may get more quickly warmed by sun and air, so it is quite natural that their buds should pierce through earlier—but the difficulty the sap has in penetrating and circulating through the very compact structure of these bulbs makes it very difficult to get them to flower in good time with other sorts. Growers have to use their skill not only in guarding flowers which are beginning to show from frost, but also from strong winds, damp, and everything that can do them injury. One year rats carried away and stored by hundreds in their holes the bulbs in the gardens of Van Zomped at Overween,—although they had a stream to cross to get at them. Growers must be au fait with every possible eventuality, and must foresee and prevent every possible mischief. They must know exactly the time by night or day when it is proper to cover or uncover their flower-beds. Their chosen blooms are covered with tents of canvas, beneath which they can conveniently walk.

Besides these tents, over the most delicately-complexioned flowers little parasols are arranged. These are mounted on little rods, which stick in the ground, and quite protect the flowers, which last several days longer with growers who give them this protection, and keep their colour better. When the flowers first begin to expand, our florists (who work on the principle of never watering) protect them from rain as carefully as they do auriculas. When they begin to make a show of blossoms they powder the sand-beds with a light mould, in order to make the colours look more brilliant against the dark brown background. They tie the stalks to little wire rods, painted green, leaving the ties loose, so that none of the blossoms are caught and broken when the flower pushes up in its growth. The pedicel is very delicate before the blossom is formed, so that the slightest thing can easily break it. When the single hyacinths are in bloom the florists open their gardens to the public. A wonderful sight presents itself on first entering the gardens, vistas of alleys with flowers of every variety, and kind, and colour, cut by borders and beds which contain each one kind of flower only. Hyacinths are in the greatest number. Early tulips, narcissi, anemones, and others are laid out in successive order. The effect is surprising. Never, when they are once selected and placed in position, does a grower ever touch his bulbs again, he dare not disturb them once they are planted, but if a bulb dies or refuses to grow they may possibly embed a flower in a pot in its place; it is even permitted to put a flower like it in a glass vase close to the leaves of the lost blossom, but they never attempt to take out a weak or unsuccessful bulb in order to substitute another. The flowers should be arranged according to gradation, that is, the tall specimens behind; the short in front; the colours as varied and as brilliant as possible.

The beds have a much more brilliant effect if two flowers of the same colour are put together, in pairs; some plant each kind thus, double, throughout the bed. The chief thing in arranging flower-beds is to manage that all the flowers should be out in full flower at the same time. It is a very difficult art, but the Haarlem bulb growers are able to accomplish it. Every bulb has its own particular habit of growth, one will flower early and another late, there may be the difference of a whole month between them.

A DUTCH GARDEN IN SPRING

People come miles to see these gardens, which are in bloom all April and part of May. Single hyacinths begin flowering towards the end of March, and last in flower for about twenty days, if the season be favourable. Single hyacinth beds are usually placed alternately with double, and the effect is more brilliant. Single hyacinths grow more thickly, there are sometimes fifty blossoms on one stalk, and very often several stalks on each plant. The red-single are a more brilliant red than are the red-double, and single blues have much the most delicate shade of colour.

About the 20th of April the hyacinths begin to be at their best, the 25th and 26th are ordinarily the days when they are in perfection and in their full glory. By the 4th or 5th of May they are going over, and the later sorts are beginning.

In Haarlem they are too carefully attended to to suffer much from the weather, their cultivators being very industrious, and watch over them, arranging for the protection even of the most ordinary kinds, for none are neglected.

When a new piece of land is taken for cultivation, they begin by trenching it six feet deep, and if they come across a bed or layer of derry, they do not fail to take it away. In gardens which have been a long time under cultivation peat or derry is not found, for it is injurious to vegetation. Pure sand is usually found to some depth, but they try to dig down below the sand to the earth and dig up about a foot of it to mix with the soil. The sand corrects the effect of the cow-manure which is put in, a layer of seven or eight inches deep (without straw), over the entire surface of the ground, which is then worked in with a spade. They mix up the manure as much as possible, so that when well worked in it is to be found to a depth of one foot below the surface.

It is not a good thing to plant hyacinths the first year in the newly manured soil; they usually leave an interval of one year before they put in hyacinths again, and in the intermediate years they cultivate tulips, jonquils, narcissi, lilies, crocuses, fritillaries, crown imperials, martagon or mountain lilies, irises, and other tuberous plants or bulbs which they keep in quantities; they take care to work the ground well every year, this brings the earth which was below, at the roots of the last year’s plants, to the surface.

The earth dug, trenched, and enriched (for it must be borne in mind it is nearly entirely sand) remains for five or six years without need of manure. After this space of time it has to be worked all over again, dug as deeply as before and manured, if possible adding more pure sand, which is found by digging a very deep way down. In winter the beds are covered with tan or manure in proportion to the strength of the cold. Growers like the frost to penetrate as far as within an inch of the bulbs. If it goes farther, it freezes the cluster of buds; and if it reaches the roots, the bulb is lost beyond redemption. But such a misfortune seldom occurs, for growers know how to protect them by increasing the thickness of manure or tan covering. Some heap up the fallen snow over the beds, believing it is good for bulbs, as it is for nearly all other plants, especially for corn and oats; while others take away the snow rather than add to it. Each has good reasons, and much depends on the time of year, for if it is late snow and the hyacinths are beginning to put out leaves, a quantity of snow may be hurtful and cause a fermentation of the sap, which may cause the bulb to decay.

After the cold weather is over the hyacinth buds begin to pierce through the manure, and then it can be taken off, and there is nothing more to be done after that but just to pull up any weeds that make their appearance. Growers either leave the flowers to fade or else cut them off, they believe it makes no difference which they do. Some, when the stalks are left uncut, strip off the blossoms with their ripening seed-vessels, thinking it preserves the sap within the bulb; others cut the leaves half-way down, for they grow very long and lengthy when the flower is dead. Both these methods are clean contrary to the principles of the art of cultivation. Still, stripping the blossoms does little harm in comparison with the harm done by cutting the leaves, which have a most important function to perform, for they now take on themselves the work of the dried-up roots and feed the bulb, and they breathe in through their leaves the particles of air most suited for the plant’s nourishment. The leaves are then entirely maintaining the plant and keeping the sap in circulation. When the fans or long leaves begin to fade and dry, the bulb is then pulled up out of the earth—with the hand, as much as possible, for fear the spade or fork should injure the young offshoots. The leaves are then cut off altogether, and the bulb is replaced in the earth on its side, being covered up again with an inch or two of very light soil, such as we described—the bulbs are left about a month or two in this state. When the time comes for them to be finally taken up, a fine dry day is chosen. The bulbs are then left out in the open air for a few hours. (If the sun is too hot, it will make them “boil,” as the gardeners say, and the sun can kill them as surely as the frost.) They are then placed on sieves, where they are lightly shaken to separate from them the earth which sticks to them, the roots are carefully removed—carefully, for the sake of the young bulbs (or offshoots)—and put away on the bulb-house shelves.

All growers proceed very much in the same way, but those who do not follow merely mechanically the trade methods, know that every bulb likes a separate treatment, and they do not take up all the bulbs in one bed on the same day—they leave the lazy ones, which are slow to ripen, longer in the ground, and they don’t cut the leaves of the quickly growing ones quite so soon. When taking up their bulbs, they judge the quantity of sand to be left to cover them (in the drying process), according to the need of each one. Experience having taught that a slow bulb which takes long to develop gains warmth (and the fermentation of the sap is hastened) by letting it “cook,” as they say, in the sun. On the contrary, if it is a quickly ripening variety, they keep it much less time in the oven (that is, under sand in the sun). These have a little more sand over them, and are stored a little sooner in the bulb house. One grower said he had for fourteen years planted a François Ist and taken it out every year exactly in the same state as he had put it in, it had not changed in form or size, nor had it given a single offshoot. Another said he kept a Duc de Bourgogne thirty years in the same way. G. Voorhelm said he had known a bulb look the same for fifty years, but he did not mention whether it had ever given offshoots or not.

In the end of June, or about that time, bulbs are put away into bulb houses. The houses should be perfectly dry, inside and out, for damp is very injurious—the houses should be thoroughly well ventilated, the wind allowed to blow through. It is better if the bulb house be made to open on three sides. When the bulbs have been sometime stored on the shelves, they are cleaned; they then go through a medical examination, and if there are any weak or sickly, they are separated from the others. The evil, if it exists, can be detected by cutting the bulb at the place where the fans or leaves come off. If the circle of tunics looks quite healthy, with no stains or spots upon them, there is no fear of disease—there is none if there is no outward mark of decay anywhere to be seen;[[8]] but if there is the smallest spot or mark, the knife must cut down to the root of the evil. Amputation does not kill the bulb, and it is the surest remedy. As some of these diseases are contagious, they can be communicated to others even in the ground, where they are not so closely packed as they are upon the shelves, therefore it is necessary to take care to examine them thoroughly in order to prevent contagion. The nature of these diseases and their cause is not yet known. The best remedy is amputation of the diseased parts, and many growers remove everything that has the least appearance of decay. The great art (and experience alone can teach this) is to know how to dry the cut wound without exhausting the sap in the bulb, and to know just the time to put it back in earth,—the earlier it is done and the more carefully the operation is performed the more likely the bulb will be saved. The most common disease is an outlet of sap between the tunics. Another is produced by small green-flies, which are probably deposited as eggs. Green-fly and centipedes are the most commonly to be seen. Bulbs left for a long time in the same place are sure to contract diseases—this is one of the chief reasons why growers are for ever changing them (even the common sorts), and are always renewing the soil or putting the flowers in different places alternately with others. When the growers are ready to replant their bulbs, they clean them again, taking away the outer red skin or tunics, which are now dried up, and keeping those adhering to the bulb, for it would be harmful to a degree to take them away. They put aside the young bulbs which are strong enough to be separated from the parent bulb. The method of planting again has been described. I must add that show-beds should be chosen in sunny spots. Hyacinths cannot bear to be in the shade, and they must not be put under trees; but as they also suffer from wind, it is a good thing to have trees not far off to break the wind.

[8]. Except new disease.

In conclusion, it would be a good thing if amateurs were not quite so prodigal with their bulbs. They grow them in pots or in glass during the winter, and it is usually their custom, when the flowers are dead, to throw the bulbs away, supposing them to be good for nothing when they have blossomed once. Instead of that, they should be left in the glass jar or flower-pot till the leaves are likewise dead, then they can be put for half a day in moderately hot sun to dry, and afterwards placed in earth on their sides, as is done with other bulbs, covering them lightly with sandy earth, and taking them up in the same way; when in the autumn they are planted there will be no difference between them and the other bulbs. If they are round and full of sap when they are taken up, they can be used again in glass or pots in the house a second year, if not, it is better to leave them in the open ground. But as it is sometimes frosty weather when the bulbs are taken from the jars, it is better to put them away at once in the green-house, covered with a little sand, and wait till fine weather comes to put them outside for a month or five weeks in the earth, preparatory to taking them to the bulb-house shelves—to plant before the rest.

Hyacinths can be also grown in pots filled with moss, well pressed down and kept sufficiently moist. If grown in water, rain-water is best.

Bulbs increase so rapidly that a grower who takes a little trouble to cultivate, let us say about 300, will find himself in a few years possessor of several thousand, which he does not care to keep. He will also have the satisfaction of making Conquests with seeds he has himself sown, and by exchanging these seedlings he can procure for himself rare and costly kinds, which he cannot buy; he is thus able to amuse himself with a collection which affords him much pleasure, and he is also able to bestow some upon his friends. He may never have been in the neighbourhood of Haarlem, he may never have learnt so many details as are here put forth, in the hope that they may prove useful to many a lover of flowers.

George Voorhelm, in the preface to his treatise on hyacinth culture, encourages men of other nations to cultivate the hyacinth, and to sow seeds, and, in his opinion, it would be better that the Dutch should meet with rivals of other nationalities, for if all produced good flowers, they would be able to supply each other reciprocally. He thinks it a pity no other nation should have attempted to second the Dutch in a work which reveals so wonderfully the many mysteries of nature as that of the culture of the hyacinth.

Maximilien Henri, Marquis de Saint-Simon, wrote Des Jacinthes, de leur anatomic, reproduction, et culture; also Histoire de la guerre des Alpes, ou Campagne de 1744; Histoire de la guerre des Bataves et des Romains.

Saint-Simon, born 1720; died 1799 at Utrecht. This Marquis de Saint-Simon was uncle to Claude Henri, Comte de Saint-Simon, founder of the sect called Saint-Simoniennes. I think the Marquis was nephew of the Duc de Saint-Simon, author of the Mémoires of Louis XIV.

II
THE TULIP TRADE

From De Koning’s History of Haarlem (1635)

Many, no doubt, have heard of the extraordinary mania for tulips in Holland in the seventeenth century. Dutchmen of all classes, highest to lowest, forsook their ordinary occupations and business, in order to engage in the tulip trade.

It is said the mania began first in France in the year 1635, and thence spread to the Netherlands. Enormous prices were paid, and even houses and land given in exchange for one bulb.

In Haarlem there stands a house, at one time in possession of the Widow de Lange and Van Ek—it is numbered W. 3, No. 575. It used to be two separate buildings, and one of them was known as the Tulip House, because it was sold for one single tulip. When the last alterations were made to this house in 1858 there was still to be seen a stone set in the gable, upon which was carved a tulip, and below the following inscription:—

1637.

This stone was kept as a remembrance of the famous tulip trade of the year 1637, “when one fool hatched from another, the people were rich without substance, and wise without knowledge.”

Since that famous year, according to tradition, the road that led to the country beyond the Groot Poort and to the surrounding neighbourhood, where most of the best Haarlemers grew tulips, was called, in remembrance of all the money lost, “The moneyless path.” The rage for tulips became intense, and every one was caught by the craze, and positively some were driven mad by it. Though a few made a great deal of money, the majority of the new bulb growers and buyers lost everything they possessed! There is a saying in Dutch, “It is not good to come to black seed, for then comes poverty.” (Canaries are fond of eating their white seed first, and then have nothing left but the black.)

Whoever had a plot of ground planted tulips therein. Rich and poor alike—house-painters, cobblers, tailors, weavers; in a word, nearly everyone either grew or speculated in tulips—some sold all their tools and instruments to buy bulbs. And indeed they might well look forward to great profits, seeing that the bulbs, which in the beginning cost but a few guldens, had now risen to hundreds and thousands. The most coveted and rare kinds it had now become impossible to buy. For one single bulb 12 acres of land in the Schermer were offered. The Semper Augustus must have been the rarest and most costly of any, the fabulous price of 13,000 florins was once paid for it, and soon after three of these bulbs were again sold for 30,000 florins.

The price of land and the hiring of fields to raise the bulbs in grew very high. A gentleman was offered 50,000 florins a year for his field for seven years, in addition to a share in the profits. Such was the rage for buying and selling, that most of the inns and taverns in the town were turned into places of Exchange and Mart, where bulbs were bought and sold even before they could be taken out of the ground. A book-keeper was employed, who kept a book of all the transactions and of the profits made, which seemed in some cases very large.

Many men, unused to the possession of so much money, became so very extravagant that they spent more than their income, and began to live at such a high rate of expenditure, buying carriages and horses, and living in such a fashion that only men who possessed untold wealth and capital could afford to do it.

What was foreseen by more wise and more thoughtful people came to pass. Everyone having now become bulb-grower, there came to be so many tulips in the market that prices suddenly dropped, and many buyers refused to take the bulbs at the price agreed upon, and many quarrels and disputes arose over the matter. Finally, the States-General of Holland appointed by decree that, from the 27th of April 1636, tulip-sellers had the right to force buyers to buy at a price agreed upon (a standard price?). So this decree stopped very high speculations, and a Semper Augustus, for example, for which previously several thousand florins had been paid, now fetched only 50 florins. There came a reaction, and a great number of people were ruined.

In this way, says De Koning, began and ended a trade or commerce in bulbs, which in nearly all the towns in Holland, but especially in Haarlem, Leyden, Amsterdam, Alkmaar, Hoorn, and Enkhuizen, was kept up with such energy that, alone in Haarlem, 10,000,000 florins for tulip bulbs was paid and received, and the States-General of Holland were even weighing the advisability of taxing the industry which brought so much luxury. The little gardens near and in and about Haarlem had both wide and narrow “moneyless paths,” all of which date from the time of the tulip mania in the seventeenth century, and remain as witnesses of the folly of our forefathers.

III
THE HYACINTH TRADE

From De Koning’s Tafereel der Stad Haarlem (1808)

De Koning gives us an account of the hyacinth trade which began in 1730, and which continues to the present day. It was not so astonishing as the tulip trade, and though the price of the hyacinth did not rise as high as that of tulips, yet fancy prices were paid for some:—

Passe non plus ultrafetched1850florins
Gloria Mundi eenjong„650„
Tempel Salomons„450„
Praal Sieraad„400„

From these figures one can see that the price of a favourite hyacinth could not be compared to the price paid for a tulip bulb, but to this day hyacinth culture is a trade by which people can really live profitably (this was 1808). Not only at Amsterdam, where there are many fields of hyacinths, but in many other Dutch towns, whence the bulbs are sent to all countries. In Haarlem many of the bulb growers living outside the Groot and Kleine Hout Poort had to send away such quantities to foreign countries that the spaces near their houses became too small to plant them out, so they were forced to rent more ground to make new flower-fields, as their trade was increasing so rapidly. These flower-fields, so neatly and cleanly kept, made very beautiful surroundings to our town. When the hyacinths are in full flower they are, with their different colours, row upon row, a very beautiful sight, and many people are thus attracted to visit our country. For bulb growers themselves it is a pleasant time; they all meet and talk over the new sorts, and discuss their culture with no small degree of excitement; they collect under the shelters erected over the best sorts, and there stand smoking their pipes and relating to each other their various experiences and the experiments they have tried. Prices are no longer so high as in 1730. We have known, even in our own day, the “Ophir,” now become so common that it has scarce any value at all, sold for 3600 guldens, which shows what people are willing to pay for a rare flower.