Days and hours in a garden

by E. V. B.

I am happy in the possession of two long-desired flowers, which seem now to be settling down in their new abode. One is the pale-blue Star Anemone Apennina, common in the Ilex woods of Frascati; the other, the lovely purplish-brown Fritillary (Meleagris), found wild in river meadows near us. Fritillary is no easy word for poetry, yet it is named by at least one poet. Matthew Arnold, in his “Thyrsis,” says—

“I know what white, what purple fritillaries

The grassy harvest of the river-fields,

Above by Ensham, down by Sandford, yields.”

I think no other flower of any kind can compare with it in finish and exquisite grace of form. The purplish, dove-like colour I believe to be the same described in old French as “colombette.”

May 15.—To-day, amid the brilliant green of new leaves and the singing and twittering of a thousand birds in the sun’s warm glow, one keeps saying to oneself—

“Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king,”

or some such old snatch of songs that seem to wander upon the soft sweet air. Ah, yes, “the year’s pleasant king”! and yet our spring is a beautiful spirit, and she has been hovering about us; but now, to-day, she has set her feet upon the earth, and there is a great triumph of verdure on the trees and on the grass; and Apple trees meet her in fulness of bloom, and May-buds are swelling on the Thorns to make up for lost time; and all the edges of meadow-grass are jewelled with little gems of purple, and blue, and red, and the broad fields shine in silver and gold.

The short reign of Narcissus Poeticus has begun; our large old clumps down one side of the Broad Walk are not so fine as usual; frosts and cold heavy rains laid the leaves of some of them, and sometimes turned them yellow; but within the walled garden the clumps are as beautiful as ever—throngs of long-stalked silvery flowers, stiff and firm, with the stiffness and strength of perfect health. Narcissus Poeticus is lovely; and we need not trouble to know if it be the very flower named by Theocritus, Virgil, and Ovid. The east border, though not much varied as yet, is gay and full of promise. There are double pale yellow Ranunculus (the Swiss meadow kind), and bunches of Heartsease, violet and brown Auriculas, sheets of double white Anemones, and the Riviera double scarlet—which, however, never with us comes scarlet, but only dull red; Tulips, Stonecrops, Kingspear, Phlox Nelsoni, double King’s-cups, and Bachelors’ Buttons, a patch of Gentians at the south angle of the wall, with yellow Corydalis Lutea peering out of chinks in the old bricks above. Crowds of Lilies are springing up in the background, with purple Iris and Pæonies in bud. Solomon’s Seal (Lady’s Signet) in many nooks and corners unfolds its curious club-shaped leaf-buds, and all its bells will soon be hung. Pansies, under the south wall, make a bright display; there are three large oblong beds—lilac, yellow, and deep royal purple; also a round bed of semi-double Anemones, whose scarlet colour, about mid-day, is actually dazzling; and one of Ranunculus not yet opened. Behind these beds, against the wall, are white Irises, almost ready to bloom, and several clusters of the garden Star of Bethlehem—valuable in its way, but not nearly so pretty as the wild sort, and most precise in its daily system of early closing and late opening.

Between the tennis-court and the little lawn belonging to the Firs and Cedar, the walk winds along beside a close of chosen trees—Plane, Silver Birch, pink Thorns, variegated Maple, etc., all in their pleasant time of youth, having been planted only a little over eleven years. Portugal Laurel and Box mingle with them in deeper shades. Next the walk are Sweet Briar and well-berried Aucubas; one Aucuba is still covered with scarlet fruit and golden leaves. There is yellow Spanish Broom, and tall trees of white Broom wave long white plumes, leaning over the path. White Broom, they say, is “the Juniper tree” that Elijah sat down under. If so, the shade must have been but scanty! Soon the path turns past a Yew-tree, and becomes the Primrose Walk, along under the line of Elms.