Chapter XII: Some Ways and Means

“No gardener has made experiments, however small, in the formation
of a rock garden and the culture of Alpine plants without bringing
a new gladness to himself and others.”—S. REYNOLDS HOLE, _A Book
About the Garden_.

For such as wish to set about creating an Alpine meadow, either as an attractive feature of their pleasure-grounds or—which is more to the point—as a completing part of their rock-garden, let me at once say that this volume is no detailed _vade mecum_, and that, for the cultural requirements of the plants mentioned, recourse must be had to the many good books already dealing with that phase of the subject. All that is pretended here is to point the way to a much-neglected path in Alpine circumstance and to attempt to arouse the necessary enthusiasm for its better and more just appreciation, incidentally indicating what may be novel in its aspect and untouched by Alpine gardening books. To this end, then, I would try to conjure up a representative field or meadow of the Alps. But, before doing so, let me impress upon the reader that, not only will it be no Alpine field in the popular sense, but that we may occasionally have to descend even to the fields of the Swiss plain in order to find one or two subjects which we can use with advantage to enrich our scheme—plants such as the Star of Bethlehem and _Scilla bifolia_. The Swiss plains lie high when judged by English standards; rarely, if ever, do they fall below some 1,200 feet.

* * * * *

The field I have in my mind’s eye as I write these lines is one which, “with its early and exquisite diversities of form and colour”—to quote again from Dean Hole’s little book—“is a new and large delight.” It is one in which the bulbs, hundreds upon hundreds in number and about five in kind, burst into life with the grass in the first days of spring. White and purple _Crocus vernus_, rosy Crocus-like _Bulbocodium vernum_, and yellow Gagea are the first-comers, quickly followed by the golden Daffodil (_Narcissus Pseudo-narcissus_), the bright blue _Scilla bifolia_, the green-and-white Star of Bethlehem (_Ornithogalum umbellatum_) and its handsome large-flowered relative, _O. nutans_. Then, following close upon the Violet, Cowslip, and Oxlip, come the earlier of the Orchids—_Orchis Morio_, _O. mascula_, and _O. maculata_. A little later _Myosotis sylvestris_ spreads a blue haze over the field, aiding most admirably the lively pink of _Orchis (Gymnadenia) conopsea_, and rendering the appearance of _Paradisia Liliastrum_, the paper-white Paradise Lily, daintier than ever. And now I see a glorious multitude of Pheasant-eye Narcissus (_Narcissus poeticus_), with here and there a tall, deep blue or purple Columbine. Lemon-yellow _Biscutella lævigata_, too, clear-blue _Linum alpinum_, and white _Potentilla rupestris_ blend their blossoms to produce a lovely harmony in true spring-like key. _Muscari comosum_ throws up its curious blue-purple spikes, over-topped by the white sprays of _Anthericum Liliago_. And in the moister part of the meadow I see great colonies of _Ranunculus aconitifolius_ and the yellow Globe-Flower (_Trollius europæus_) sown in most happy manner with our Ragged-Robin (_Lychnis Flos-cuculi_), presently to be joined by bright-pink regiments of Bistort or Snakeweed (_Polygonum Bistorta_). And then, when _Centaurea montana_, accompanied by _Geranium sylvaticum_, _Salvia pratensis_, _Lychnis dioica_ (the Red Catchfly), _Silene Cucubalus_ (the Bladder Campion), and _Polemonium cæruleum_ usher in the summer, the field is rich indeed in blue, mauve, lilac, red, and pink, with a distinct leaning towards blue, mauve, and lilac. And these colours seem to hold their own to the end. White may come with the Ox-eye Daisy (_Chrysanthemum leucanthemum_) and the many Umbelliferæ; red may come with brilliant _Centaurea uniflora_ and crimson _C. nigra_, the common Hard-head; yellow may come with tall _Hypochœris uniflora_ and such Buttercups as _Ranunculus bulbosus_ and _R. acris_, but blue and mauve and lilac seem always to predominate; for the Rampions (_Phyteuma betonicæfolium_ and _P. orbiculare_) and Campanulas (_C. rotundifolia_ and _C. rhomboidalis_) join forces with the Meadow Clary and the Wood Crane’s-bill and linger on until the Martagon Lily is gone out of flower and the field stands more than ready for the scythe. Indeed, long after the scythe has done its worst, and _Colchicum autumnale_ is a thing of yesterday, and autumn’s fires have paled, and

“The few late flowers have moisture in the eye,”

those flowers, or the major portion of those flowers, will be blue and mauve and lilac—Campanula, Geranium, and Salvia.

A field such as this is a garden in itself, and a revelation, surely, for those who know only our home-fields. And it will be noted that in such a field there need be no destruction of effective English field-flowers. Indeed, the addition of Alpine wealth to our home-fields ought not to oust any but rank invaders, such as the Plantain, the Nettle, or the Bindweed, or other “volunteers,” as Californians picturesquely call them. Our Buttercups, Daisies, Orchids, and Red Sorrel should be secure; Dandelions and Ox-eye Marguerites can, and should, continue their reign as of yore; for all of these are constituents of meadows in the Alps. Thus, if we create meadows to companion our rockworks, we should be growing many an Alpine which at present we do not allow among our Alpines; and in this way, if in no other, our Alpine gardens would be far more complete, far more representative, and, therefore, far more worthy the name.

No; because a flower is already common in England is no necessary reason why it should be taboo in any Alpine field we may create in England. Indeed, such common things as the Marsh Marigold (_Caltha palustris_), the two Buttercups (_Ranunculus acris_ and _R. bulbosus_) and the Bladder Campion (_Silene Cucubalus_) are most precious. Who that has seen the Marsh Marigold pencilling with golden lines the course of some mountain rivulet through the spring fields, and lying, with _Primula farinosa_, a brilliant mass, in some juicy hollow; or the two Buttercups, blending with acres of _Ranunculus aconitifolius_, and forming a filmy sea of yellow and white; or slopes packed with the Bladder Campion and the tall Rampion (_Phyteuma betonicæfolium_), a perfect picture of grey-white and blue,—who that has seen these common flowers thus growing but has not vowed rarity to be no essential passport to the ranks of beauty? I remember once—it was at Montroc, near the Col des Montets—passing over a meadow-slope of Bladder Campion and Rampion, with just a sprinkling of that other and closely allied Campion, _Silene nutans_ (the Nottingham Catchfly), and the effect so fascinated me, as to send up these Campions considerably in my esteem, as subjects with decorative possibilities of which I had not dreamed.

Objection may possibly be taken to the large area required for the creation of an Alpine meadow in comparison with its short duration as “a thing of beauty.” It will perhaps be objected that our field must be mown; that the ripening growth cannot be allowed “to lie in cold obstruction and to rot”; that, from July to the end of the year, the field will be a stubbly place of emptiness, whereas our rockwork will bear a continual round of interest until the coming of the frost. And this complaint would be reasonable if we were dealing with just an English meadow set with certain Alpine plants to make it gayer than is its habit. But we are not—not, that is to say, if we are contemplating the meadow as a companioning feature of our rock-garden. A typical Alpine meadow is full of “accident”; there is nothing of the billiard-table about its eventful surface. Palpably, it must have been the scene of utmost violence before Nature decked it out with verdure. Steep depressions; wide gullies; abrupt limits, falling suddenly away in a grassless, rocky bank to a rough path below,—such “accidents” as these break its even tenor. Rocks, grey and lichen-flecked, crop up from it here and there—rocks hurled in some past fury from the heights above or borne from afar upon the breast of some ancient glacier; for an Alpine field, more often than not, is a delightful combination of rockwork and pasture. Hence there is accommodation for a much wider range of plant-life than in a meadow run upon English lines, and the season of interest is, therefore, as long-lived as that of any part of our garden. “Accident,” indeed, is the constant characteristic of it, and floral variety the natural corollary. When the hay has been made upon the richer portions of it, the poorer or more broken parts and the rocks continue to abound in blossom, giving us such things as the Thalictrums, Monkshoods, Peas, Veronicas, Pinks, Saxifrages, Sempervivums, and Sedums.

When, therefore, we choose the parcel of ground to be transformed into a Swiss mountain meadow, we should not be dismayed if its surface is already more than undulating; we should not summon assistance to level it up and smooth it out. We are not proposing to make a croquet-lawn, but are supposed to be inspired by Nature in one of her wild, “irresponsible” moods. Violence, however, should depend upon size. If we are dealing with several acres, we can afford to be grand with regard to “accident”; but if the land at our disposal is, perhaps, half an acre, irregularity should be to scale; for to be artistic we should avoid extravagance.

Rocks, as has been said, are an almost essential feature of an Alpine field. The ground should rise towards them and should be of a poorer nature than where the grass is to be really meadowy; for upon the poorer ground we shall be dependent for many colonies of gay and interesting plants which would be out of place, even they could exist, among the thicker grasses. Here we may count upon brilliance long after the Geranium and its field-consorts have been mown down—brilliance afforded by such subjects as _Ononis natrix_, _Linum tenuifolium_, _L. alpinum_, _Jasione montana_, _Campanula spicata_, _C. barbata_, _C. persicifolia_, _Trifolium alpinum_, _Eryngium alpinum_, _Vicia onobrychioides_, _Veronica urticæfolia_, _Lathyrus heterophyllus_, _Anthyllis vulneraria_, _Carduus defloratus_, _Verbascum phlomoides_, and _Onobrychis viciæfolia_, the rosy Sainfoin or “wholesome hay,” for which the ass is said to bray.

The rocks employed ought, in greater part, to be of a “generous” nature, not hard and unresponsive. They should if possible be even soft (as rocks go) and somewhat liable to disintegration—rocks upon which, with a little preliminary encouragement, Sedums, Dianthus, and Sempervivums can take root. They ought not to be built up to form what is generally recognised as a rockwork, but should be large, massive, and sparsely set, cropping up from the ground haphazard and as if their greater bulk were beneath the soil. Grass should be encouraged to grow about them, even upon them in places; and _Poa alpina, forma vivipara_ is a suitable, as well as a most interesting, grass for this purpose. The Alpine Clover, too (_Trefolium alpinum_), may well be encouraged to spread around the base of these rocks and over the ground that slopes up to them. With its large, loose, rosy flower-heads, sometimes white or lilac, it is an ever-welcome June visitor, especially where it luxuriates; as, for instance, at Le Planet, below the French side of the Col de Balme.

I have said that the rocks ought, _in greater part_, to be of a “generous” nature; and I have said this because a hard and unresponsive rock here and there would not be out of place. Although quantity equally with quality is the predominant note in Alpine floral circumstance, it is not an invariable rule, and something of barrenness only adds to the scene of plenty. Moreover, a cold, bare rock with just one cleft in it where some single tuft of Dianthus, or of _Veronica saxatilis_, for instance, can cling is often a very precious object amid a surrounding exuberance of blossom. Often in English rock-gardens there is too little unoccupied rock. Ubiquity of plant life in this respect is not so artistic as when there is a modicum of reticence; nor is it so truthful.

Another by no means inappropriate feature is that which can be lent by shrubs or bushes; not as hedges, for Switzerland, when compared with England, may be said to be devoid of

“... Little lines
Of sportive wood run wild.”

characteristic commonplaces in England, where, it is said, they cover one and a half million acres, they are rare in Switzerland; or, at any rate, as Leslie Stephen remarked, “those detestable parallelograms, which cut up English scenery with their hedgerows, are sternly confined to the valley.” And in the valley they are comparatively scarce, and lack the charm pertaining to the English hedgerow.

No; if our field is to have an Alpine allure, hedges must be tabu. But a negligent grouping around the rocks or upon the outskirts of the field, of such bushes as _Rhododendron ferrugineum_, _Rosa alpina_, _Berberis vulgaris_, _Rosa pomifera_, _Juniperus nana_, _Sambucus racemosa_, and the two Honeysuckles, _Lonicera alpigena_ and _L. nigra_, would not only enhance the effect and interest, but would tally with Nature as she generally rules in the Alps. Nor would the Bird Cherry (_Prunus avium_), if kept in bush form, be out of place. This lovely spring-flowering tree, treated as a hedgerow subject on the plateau at the back of Lausanne, is an arresting object in the fields around Chamonix at the end of May. And here, with the shade and shelter of such bushes, may come the nobly plumed Goat’s Beard (_Spiræa Aruncus_), the mauve and the cream-plumed _Thalictrum aquilegifolium_, the deep-blue _Aconitum napellus_, the violet-blue _A. paniculatum_, the creamy-white _A. Lycoctonum_, the rosy _Adenostyles albifrons_, the ever-graceful Solomon’s Seal (_Polygonatum verticillatum_), the blue-mauve _Mulgedium alpinum_, the red-brown _Lilium Martagon_, the brilliant orange _L. croceum_, the pale-yellow _Salvia glutinosa_, the golden _Lathyrus luteus_, the pink and feathery _Dianthus superbus_, the Fennel-like _Meum athamanticum_, the distinctive Umbellifer, _Laserpitium latifolium_, besides such Orchids as _Epipactis atrorubens_, _E. latifolia_, _Cephalanthera ensifolia_, _C. pallens_, _C. rubra_, and _Habenaria (Plantanthera) chlorantha_.

If we are to have some kind of boundary-mark to our field, let it be by preference a low, mortarless wall of fairly large rough stones or pieces of rock built up with earth—a sort of rockwork wall. These walls may be met with almost anywhere in the Swiss mountains, and are frequently composed of fragments of rock which at one time and another have been strewn about the fields by rockfalls or avalanches. They often become the home of brilliant masses of such plants as _Saponaria ocymoides_, _Silene rupestris_, _Gypsophila repens_, _Helianthemum vulgare_, _Arabis alpina_, _Calamintha alpina_, and _Cerastium alpinum_, thus adding considerably to the gaiety and charm of the fields—a gaiety and charm which in the case of these walls lasts well into the autumn.

Some difficulty may be experienced over the grass which is to accompany the meadow-flowers. Indeed, it is an objection usually raised whenever I have broached the subject of Alpine fields to gardening enthusiasts; they fear that English meadow-grass would overwhelm the stranger-flowers by leaving them no room to breathe. But is not this obstacle one rather of hasty imagining than of reality? We are not proposing to put _Viola alpina_, _Gentiana verna_, or the Soldanella into the field. Moreover, there are grasses and grasses; and I believe a very suitable selection could be made from any of the leading seed-merchants. I should suggest that the ground be sown with smaller, daintier grasses, and _only after the flowering-plants have become more or less established_; and I imagine that if this were done—and a sharp eye kept for the ever-ready invasion by native weeds—the imported field-flowers would hold their own.

An interesting fact in connection with Alpine fields—one that should not be copied in England—is the tendency of what is usually shade-loving vegetation to creep out into the sunlight. In spite of the intensity and power of the sun’s rays, even certain ferns, such as _Aspidium Lonchitis_, the Holly-fern, and _Polystichum Filix-mas_, seem to think nothing of basking upon the hottest slopes. True, their roots are generally sheltered by rock and stone, but the fronds look the sun squarely in the face; and yet, what can possibly be fresher and more engaging than, for instance, the masses of Parsley-fern to be met with in the stony places of the granitic Alps? Wood-Sorrel, too, will come out into the open; so will the little Alpine London Pride (_Saxifraga cuneifolia_) and the little Yellow Violet; so, also, will the May Lily or False Lily-of-the-Valley (_Smilacina bifolia_). In England, _Astrantia major_, when found, is said to seek the partial shade of copse and spinny, but here on these Alpine fields it is in the full sunshine—and looking very much the better for such boldness. It is as though the higher plants climb, the less they fear the light, extraordinarily searching though this latter be; it is as though they revel in the purity, and, casting retirement to the winds, take on a new and healthier joy in life.

There is, perhaps, just one other matter calling for special attention: the grouping of colours. Alpine fields own immense variety in this regard. Some will be almost of uniform tint, while others are of a bewildering, diverse blend. One will be blue and white (_Campanula rhomboidalis_ and Ox-eye Daisy); another will be blue and red (_Salvia pratensis_ and _Lychnis diocia_); another, yellow and pink (the Globe-Flower and the Bistort); while another will be a close, irregular mixture of some score or more of colours, with no one in particular predominating. Although Nature in her wildness is almost invariably “happy,” it is only natural that some of her results should be happier than others; and it is well to take note of the best she can do. Personally, I find her happiest when she keeps her palette simple, painting broadly, and not indulging in Segantini-like technique. And surely her simpler floral harmonies are among the perpetual delights of the Alps, and incapable of being bettered by even the most fancifully fastidious of “post-impressionists”? What could be more charming than, for instance, the simple combination of pale yellow and paper-white, or of rosy-pink and rich mauve when, as is quite usual, Biscutella and Cerastium, or _Saponaria ocymoides_ and _Calamintha alpina_ are luxuriating around and among the rocks; or when blue Myosotis and white Paradise Lily, or canary-coloured Crepis and sky-blue Veronica, or white Potentilla and rosy-mauve Geranium, or vivid orange Arnica and lilac Orchids are blooming in important numbers side by side among the grasses? I do not advocate formality—the formality depicted in Andrew Marvell’s lines:

“See how the flowers, as at parade,
Under their colours stand display’d”:

which suggests the careful horrors of bedding-out. A certain negligence is imperative; we may be studious as regards effect, but we must not show it. The question of colour-grouping is certainly one worthy of careful consideration; for if gardening is not exactly an art that “doth mend Nature,” it is, at all events, a selective art, picking and choosing of Nature’s best and bringing this together within special confines, there to show in a series of close-knit _tableaux_ that which wild Nature spreads out far and wide among much that, æsthetically, is of secondary “happiness.”

L’ENVOI

“But none has hope like thine!
Thou through the fields and through the woods dost stray,
Roaming the country-side, a truant boy,
Nursing thy project in unclouded joy,
And every doubt long blown by time away.”

MATTHEW ARNOLD, _The Scholar-Gipsy_.

Pen- and brush-craft pale their ineffectual fires before the beauty of Alpine grass-lands, and flawful and halting has been the manner of presenting my subject; but I hope a sufficient glimpse of its fascination and importance will have been caught to raise enthusiasm to the point of making amends for a neglectful past. Whatever may be the verdict upon the question of introducing Swiss floral wealth to our meadows generally, perhaps enough has been said to make it plain that very many of the mountain field-flowers cry aloud to be treated _as field-flowers_ in every Alpine garden where there is scope for, and pretensions to, completeness. And I believe that the cry will be answered. I believe that the value of the fields, in the economy of Alpine plant-life, has only to be placed earnestly before conscientious gardeners and lovers of flowers for it to meet with immediate and becoming diligence. I believe it will be seen that a rockwork is not the first, last, and only home we may make for Alpines in England, and that it is as unlovely as it is unjust to tar all of them with one and the same brush and think that, because they are called Alpines, they must necessarily be given a perch dominating the rest of the garden. I therefore believe that one more of our cherished conventionalities will soon be relegated to the “Valhalla of bad taste.”

We “are still looking through a kaleidoscope at ever-changing views,” and “the eternal verities” have as yet by no means been sounded to their bases. If “Badsworth” can find sufficient sanction to talk like this of auction bridge, with how much more reason may it not be said of gardening and the cult of Nature? It is doubtful if we have reached much that is final in anything; certainly not in gardening. Gardening—or flower-gardening, since that is the department with which we are here dealing—flower-gardening is something more than the mere growing of blossoms to please, something more than the mere forming of a living herbarium, something more than the mere creation or collecting of “novelties” for the sole sake of novelty; there is something deeper and more difficult to talk about than that—something none the less real because largely indefinable. As earnest, thinking gardeners, our views and sentiments are not limited to a mere toying with the soil and with attractive vegetation. We are not children—though we ought to be, and are. I mean, we do not garden—we do not build Alpine rockworks and plant them with gay flowers quite so irresponsibly as children build mud-castles and stick them over with coloured oddments. There is a significant profundity in the meanest of our efforts—even in the building of mud-castles; and in the maturer effort of gardening it is only natural that this should be of richer meaning.

Gardening is a saving grace in any nation. It would be invidious to name examples; enough to say that nations with marked propensities for gardening figure prominently in past and present history. Such nations, though “insurgent sons,” are necessarily less so than they would otherwise be; for they live nearer to the truth of things, nearer to Nature. Gardening touches well-springs of being, and helps materially towards the moral advancement of a race. It is affected by the same fundamental “psychic” influence as is painting, or, indeed, any other of our kindred enthusiasms. In it we are striving, not so much to express Nature, as to express ourselves through Nature; not so much to transcribe Nature line for line, as to translate—as creatures who consider ourselves so much apart from, so much above, Nature—what we think we feel, perhaps see, and almost certainly dream in her. And far be it from me to aver that we are not striving even to supplant Nature—seemingly a mad ambition, for in the end, do as we will, Nature, and nothing but Nature, has found expression. Yet it is not quite as mad an ambition as a first inspection would lead us to suppose. Indeed, it is good, if not actually great; for it is the biggest of the many bunches of carrots dangling in front of the human animal’s nose, inducing him to keep “pegging away.”

Independent and original as we may consider ourselves, we yet from time to time have to turn and take our cue from Nature. She, after all, is the source at which we must refresh our jaded imaginations; she is the storehouse from which we must draw new blood, new energy, new ideas; she instigates our ideals and holds the cause and means for inspiration; without her promptings, in fact, we should go bankrupt. In the Buddhist “Sankhya-Karika” we read how, “like a _danseuse_ who retires from the dance after she has shown herself to the crowd, Nature retires after she has shown herself in all her splendour to the soul”—_after she has shown herself to the soul_. The aim of the best art is not slavishly to copy Nature, but to catch and translate the dreams she suggests.

“Stoop to earth’s service, and behold
All heaven shall blossom into gold.”

We may paint as much as we like “from imagination” or “inner consciousness,” but if Nature were not all the time posing at our elbow, and if we did not from time to time cast covert glances at her as our model, our picture would never be “inspired”; it would either harp tediously upon ancient themes and methods, or else “advance” into sheer chaotic incoherence.

And so it is that we have now come, I think, to a time in the history and use of Alpine rockworks when we must turn again to Nature for fresh inspiration, for improved ideals. The time is passing when Alpine conditions were held to be sufficiently represented by the rock-fortresses of the Alps,

“And all the garrisons were flowers.”

Of course, these garrisons are, and must always remain, the most prominent and unique of vegetation’s Alpine marvels, but they cannot properly be thought to speak for all; they are, as it were, the militant _éclaireurs_ set upon the craggy heights and watching over the peaceful hosts of their fellows upon the fields. As is the way in all our activities, we hug a truth a long time before becoming aware that it is not the whole truth. Perception has small beginnings, advance is slow, and exaggeration, meantime, is the very breath of progress. We ill-use a truth by over-kindness; our ecstasy forces it to lie. We dwell extravagantly upon it until it becomes partially false; then we move on. And this, I find, is what has happened, and is happening, in the case of Alpine rockworks. We have for long dwelt alone with them as with the last word upon the housing of Alpine plants; we have been so absorbed in them as the whole truth, that we have seen no need, even no possibility, for further helpful inquiry of Nature. But the time has now arrived when our truth is revealing itself as only a half-truth, and, turning to glance again at our model for a fresh advance in inspiration, we notice in her a feature which had previously escaped us—the fields.

* * * * *

“Many people enter God’s Temple through the doorway of Beauty”; and upon this count, also, the fields of the Alps are of obvious import. I venture to think that an Alpine field, with all its concomitant “accident” and consequent variety, will have more to say to a larger number of men and women than will a rockwork alone; I venture to think that a person who would not stop longer than to patronise a rockwork, would stand arrested and absorbed before the grass-lands and their varied features. To the mass of mortals who are not bespoken specialists in higher Alpines, the meadows have no superiors in breadth, directness, and simplicity of appeal. They are places where the “man-in-the-street” is at once at home. They require no special enthusiasm to make them acceptable. Their beauty is as apparent to the “vulgar” as it is to the elect; their charm is interesting to all.

And this interest means more than mere pleasure, more than a superficial tickling of the senses. It entails a mint of meaning for the soul. Yes, the soul. No gardener, no Nature-lover, need be shy of admitting he has a soul; for it is precisely this which makes Nature-lovers of us all, precisely this which plays so big a part in our admiration of the fields. “Breathes there a man with soul so dead” who will not linger lovingly over mountain meadows tossed or rolling like a multi-coloured sea, with sunlight playing amid the blues, mauves, reds, and yellows, breaking these into endless intermediary tints; and with butterflies seemingly in such light-hearted flight, skipping and flitting blithely, airily, for all the world like flowers come suddenly to sentient life? Breathes there a man who will not find in these meadows and their teeming gaiety “a vitalising passion, calling to life the shrouded thoughts and unsuspected forces of the heart”?

From Crocus to “Crocus”; from the first pale, dainty flush of spring to the last full flush of autumn; from the shy and hesitating youth of the year to the time when all at length “is rounded with a sleep,” these meadows are an intimate joy and refreshment. Nature herself sets so much store by them that when they become, as they must become, recognised components of our Alpine gardens, it shall be said she

“Now was almost won
To think her part was done,
And that her reign had here its last fulfilling.
She knew such harmony alone
Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier unison.”

“Farewell! farewell to the field,
Farewell to the sunny lawn!”

SCHILLER, _William Tell_.

INDEX

A

_Achillea nana_, 80

_Aconitum Lycoctonum_, 173

” _napellus_, 121, 173

” _paniculatum_, 173

_Adenostyles albifrons_, 122, 173

_Adonis aestivalis_, 69

_Ajuga pyramidalis_, 31, 77, 83

Alchemilla, 74

” _alpina_, 83

” _vulgaris_, 83

Alpine Auricula, 76

” Brier, 85, 105

” Bugle, 83

” Clover, 54, 170, 171

” Crocus, 44

” Crowfoot, 31, 44

” Eglantine, 67, 85, 105, 121

” Flax, 84

” Forget-me-not, 84

” Knotweed, 85

” Lettuce, 122

” London Pride, 176

” Plantain, 76

” Polygala, 31

_Anemone alpina_, 17, 32

” _narcissiflora_, 63, 83

” _sulphurea_, 83, 128

_Antennaria dioica_, 84

_Anthericum Liliago_, 84, 164

” _ramosum_, 84

_Anthyllis vulneraria_, 77, 84, 116, 170

Antirrhinum, 78

_Arabis alpina_, 174

Arnica, 72, 116, 129, 177

Artemisia, 77

Asparagus, 137

_Aspidium Lonchitis_, 175

_Aster alpinus_, 89, 124

_Astrantia major_, 120, 129, 154, 161, 176

” _ minor_, 120

_Atriplex deltoidea_, 81

Autumn Crocus, 130, 134-146

Azalea, 103

B

_Bartsia alpina_, 30, 57, 117

Bastard Toadflax, 116

Bearded Campanula, 54

” Harebell, 81

Bell-Gentian, 57, 70, 114

Berberis, 144, 172

Bilberry, 129, 144

Bindweed, 157, 166

Bird Cherry, 173

Bird’s-eye Primula, 46, 135

Bird’s-foot Trefoil, 84

_Biscutella lævigata_, 31, 57, 84, 115, 164, 177

Bistort, 63, 74, 85, 115, 120, 164, 176

Bladder Campion, 85, 165, 167

Bluebell, 152

Blue Bottle, 74, 84

Box-leaved Polygala, 24

_Bramo-Vaco_, 139

Brown Gentian, 120

Bugle, 31, 77

_Bulbocodium vernum_, 146, 163

Butcher’s Broom, 137

Buttercup, 115, 120, 149, 152, 165, 166

Butterfly Orchis, 72, 85, 104

C

_Calamintha alpina_, 31, 116, 174, 177

_Caltha palustris_, 30, 166

_Campanula barbata_, 72, 81, 115, 170

” _persicifolia_, 122, 170

” _boidalis_, 84, 115, 158, 160, 165, 176

” _rotundifolia_, 84, 165

” _Scheuchzeri_, 115, 127

” _spicata_, 121, 170

” _thyrsoides_, 121

Campion, 84, 85

_Cardamine resedifolia_, 80

_Carduus defloratus_, 170

_Carlina acaulis_, 122

” _vulgaris_, 122

Carthusian Pink, 84

Catchfly, 84

Cat’s-ear, 84

_Centaurea montana_, 84, 164

_Centaurea nigra_, 165

” _scabiosa_, 120

” _uniflora_, 120, 165

_Cephalanthera ensifolia_, 85, 173

” _pallens_, 173

” _rubra_, 85, 173

_Cerastium arvense_, 84

_Char de Venus_, 121

Cherry-tree, 17

_Chrysanthemum leucanthemum_, 165

Cinquefoil, 77, 85

Clary, 85, 154

Clover, 72

_Cœloglossum viridis_, 85

_Colchicum alpinum_, 140-146

” _autumnalis_, 130, 134-143, 160, 165

_Colchique_, 139

Coltsfoot, 45

Columbine, 164

Corn, 118

Cornflower, 69, 99

_Coronilla varia_, 122

Cowslip, 23, 149, 164

_Crepis aurea_, 115

Crocus, 23, 24, 71

” _nudiflorus_, 137

” _sativus_, 139

” _vernus_, 163

Cudweed, 84

Currant, 17

D

Daffodil, 17, 32, 152, 163

Daisy, 149, 166

Dandelion, 19, 150, 166

Daphne, 109

Dendrobium, 75

_Dianthus Carthusianorum_, 84, 122

” _neglectus_, 80

_Dianthus superbus_, 121, 173

” _sylvestris_, 121, 122

_Digitalis ambigua_, 121

” _lutea_, 122

Dog Rose, 108, 129

Dyer’s Weed, 85

E

_Echium vulgare_, 84

Edelweiss, 35-39, 124

Eglantine, 17, 144

Epilobium, 80

_Epipactis atrorubens_, 173

” _latifolia_, 173

_Eritrichium nanum_, 42

_Eryngium alpinum_, 170

_Euphrasia alpina_, 84

” _minima_, 84

” _officinalis_, 72, 73, 84

Everlasting Pea, 67, 169

_Exobasidium rhododendri_, 108

Eyebright, 73, 84

F

Fair Maid of France, 85, 115

False Lily-of-the-Valley, 176

Felwort, 41

Field Mouse-ear, 84

Field Gentian, 120

” Poppy, 68, 99

Flax, 122

Foxglove, 152

French Willow, 80

Frog Orchis, 85

G

Gagea, 163

Garlic, 137

_Gentiana amarella_, 41

_Gentiana asclepiadea_, 90

” _brachyphylla_, 141

” _campestris_, 115, 120

” _excisa_, 24, 89, 157

” _nivalis_, 117, 157

” _punctata_, 120

” _purpurea_, 120

” _verna_, 24, 30, 35-47, 57, 141, 157, 175

_Geranium, sylvaticum_, 84, 115, 154, 160, 164, 177

_Geum montanum_, 24, 31

” _rivale_, 84

Globe-Flower, 23, 56, 85, 164, 176

_Globularia cordifolia_, 84

Goat’s Beard, 173

Golden Thistle, 122

Grass-of-Parnassus, 127

Greater Astrantia, 82

Grimm the Collier, 120

Groundsel, 80

_Gymnadenia albida_, 104, 116

” _conopsea_, 85, 164

” _odoratissima_, 85

_Gypsophila repens_, 174

H

_Habenaria bifolia_, 85

” _chlorantha_, 173

” _viridis_, 85

Hard-heads, 120, 165

Hawkweed, 82, 120

Hawthorn, 152

Heather, 102, 128, 129

_Helianthemum alpestre_, 116

” _vulgare_, 174

Helleborine, 85

Hepatica, 23

Herb Paris, 137

_Herbst-Zeitlose_, 140

_Hieracium alpinum_, 115

” _aurantiacum_, 120

_Hippocrepis comosa_, 84

Holly-fern, 175

Honeysuckle, 109, 121, 173

Horseshoe Vetch, 84

_Hypochœris maculata_, 115

” _uniflora_, 115, 165

Hyssop, 122

J

Jacob’s Ladder, 128, 154

_Jasione montana_, 122, 170

_Juniperus nana_, 172

Jupiter’s Distaff, 121

K

Kidney Vetch, 77, 84

King of the Alps, 42

Knapweed, 84

Knee Holly, 137

Knobweed, 120

Knotweed, 85

L

Laburnum, 17

Ladies’ Fingers, 84

Lady’s Mantle, 83

” Smock, 80

_Laitue des Alpes_, 122

Larkspur, 69

_Laserpitium latifolium_, 173

_Lathyrus heterophyllus_, 84, 170

” _luteus_, 173

” _sylvestris_, 84

_Le Bas du Bon Dieu_, 41

_Leontopodium alpinum_, 35-39

Leopard’s Bane, 122

Lesser Foxglove, 122

_Lilium croceum_, 17, 173

” _Martagon_, 173

Lily-of-the-Valley, 137

_Linaria alpina_, 77

_Linum alpinum_, 84, 164, 170

” _tenuifolium_, 122, 170

Lœlia, 75

_Lonicera alpigena_, 173

” _nigra_, 173

_Lotus corniculatus_, 84

Lousewort, 85

_Lychnis dioica_, 84, 161, 164, 176

” _Flos-cuculi_, 84, 164

” _viscaria_, 84, 161

M

Marguerite, 75

Marsh-Marigold, 30, 46, 57, 71, 166, 167

Martagon Lily, 116, 120, 165, 173

Masterwort, 120, 154

May Lily, 176

Meadow Clary, 85, 154, 165

” Rue, 121

” Saffron, 139

” Sage, 85, 154

Mealy Primrose, 46, 56, 71, 135

_Mespilus oxyacantha_, 79

_Meum athamanticum_, 173

Micheli’s Daisy, 30, 57, 72

Milkwort, 85

Monkshood, 121, 169

Mountain Cornflower, 84

” Everlasting Pea, 84

” Geum, 71

_Mulgedium alpinum_, 122, 173

Mullein, 122

_Muscari comosum_, 84, 164

Myosotis, 24, 177

” _alpestris_, 84, 164

” _palustris_, 116

N

Naked Boy, 139

” Lucy, 139

_Narcissus poeticus_, 17, 32, 158, 164

” _Pseudo-narcissus_, 163

Nettle, 166

_Nigritella nigra_, 85

Nottingham Catchfly, 167

O

Oak-apple, 108

_Œil-de-chat_, 41

Onion, 137

_Onobrychis viciæfolia_, 84, 170

Ononis, 93

” _natrix_, 122, 170

” _rotundifolia_, 122

Orache, 81

Orchids, 23, 72, 85, 116, 120, 149, 158, 166, 177

_Orchis conopsea_, 164

” _latifolia_, 85

” _maculata_, 85, 164

” _mascula_, 164

” _Morio_, 164

” _ustulata_, 85

_Ornithogalum nutans_, 164

” _pyrenaicum_, 137

” _umbellatum_, 138, 163

_Orobus luteus_, 121

Ox-eye Marguerite, 116, 165, 166, 176

Oxlip, 164

P

Pansy, 69

Paradise Lily, 63, 72, 85, 158, 164, 177

_Paradisia Liliastrum_, 85, 158, 164

Parsley-fern, 175

Parsnip, 152

_Pedicularis tuberosa_, 31, 85

Pheasant-eye Narcissus, 32, 164

_Phyteutma betonicifolium_, 54, 85, 115, 158, 165, 167

” _hemisphæricum_, 116

” _Micheli_, 116

” _orbiculare_, 85, 115, 165

” _spicata_, 154

_Pimpinella magna rosea_, 85

Pinguicula, 30

Pink, 169

Pinkwort, 80

_Plantago alpina_, 54

Plantain, 157, 166

_Plantanthera bifolia_, 85

” _chlorantha_, 173

_Poa alpina_, 171

_Polemonium cœruleum_, 127, 154, 165

_Polygala alpestris_, 85

” _vulgaris_, 85

_Polygonatum verticillatum_, 173

_Polygonum Bistorta_, 85, 164

_Polystichum Filix-mas_, 175

Poppy, 68, 99

_Potentilla rupestris_, 31, 77, 85, 115, 164, 177

Primrose, 23, 37, 46, 93, 152

_Primula farinosa_, 30, 62, 167

_Prunus avium_, 173

Q

Queen of the Fields, 121

R

Radish, 118

Ragged Robin, 84, 164

Rampion, 54, 85, 115, 120, 154, 165, 167

_Ranunculus aconitifolius_, 85, 115, 164, 167

” _acris_, 165, 166

” _bulbosus_, 165, 166

Raspberry, 17

Red Catchfly, 84, 164

_Reseda luteola_, 85

Rest-Harrow, 93

_Rhinanthus angustifolius_, 85

_Rhododendron ferrugineum_, 41, 89, 102-113, 117, 129, 144, 172

” _hirsutum_, 102-113

” _ponticum_, 102

Robin’s Pincushion, 108

_Rosa alpina_, 85, 105, 172

” _pomifera_, 172

_Rosage_, 106

_Rose des Alpes_, 106

_Rue des Alpes_, 106

S

Saffron, 139

_Safra dès prats_, 139

Sage, 77, 85

Sainfoin, 84, 170

St. Bruno’s Lily, 85, 114

_Salvia glutinosa_, 121, 173

” _pratensis_, 69, 74, 77, 85, 115, 154, 158, 160, 164, 176

_Sambucus racemosa_, 172

_Saponaria ocymoides_, 31, 77, 116, 174

_Saxifraga cuneifolia_, 176

Saxifrage, 169

_Scabiosa lucida_, 85, 115

Scilla, 23

” _bifolia_, 163

Sedum, 77, 129, 169, 170

Sempervivum, 169, 170

_Senecio Doronicum_, 80, 122

_Sibbaldia procumbens_, 54

_Silene Cucubalus_, 165, 167

” _inflata_, 85

” _nutans_, 167

” _rupestris_, 116, 174

_Smilacina bifolia_, 176

Snake-root, 85

Snakeweed, 164

Snapdragon, 78

Soapwort, 77

Soldanella, 23, 24, 71, 89, 175

Solomon’s Seal, 173

Sorrel, 151, 166

Speedwell, 9, 73

_Spirœa Aruncua_, 121, 173

Star of Bethlehem, 137, 163

Strawberry, 17

Stonecrop, 77

Sulphur Anemone, 31, 34, 46, 53, 54

Sylvan Geranium, 63

T

_Thalictrum aquilegifolium_, 121, 169, 173

_Thesium alpinum_, 72, 74, 116

Thyme, 118

Toadflax, 77

Trefoil Valerian, 85

_Trifolium alpinum_, 54, 170, 171

_Trollius europæus_, 85, 164

_Tue-chien_, 139

Turk’s-cap Lily, 121

U

Umbelliferæ, 116, 165

_Umbilicaria virginis_, 46

V

_Vache_, 139

_Valeriana montana_, 122

” _tripteris_, 85

Vanilla Orchis, 85

_Veilleuse_, 139

_Veillotte_, 139

_Veratrum album_, 116, 158

_Verbascum phlomoides_, 122, 170

Vernal Gentian, 35-47, 58, 72, 104, 127

_Veronica Chamædrys_, 73

” _saxatilis_, 116, 171

” _spicata_, 158

” _urticæfolia_, 170

_Vicia onobrychioides_, 121, 170

_Viola alpina_, 175

” _calcarata_, 32, 41, 53, 89, 157

” _tricolor_, 69

Violet, 23, 164

_Violon_, 139

Viper’s Bugloss, 84

W

Water Avens, 84

Weld, 85

Willow Gentian, 90

” Herb, 129

Wood Anemone, 23

” Campion, 84

” Crane’s-bill, 84, 154, 165

” Everlasting Pea, 84

” Sorrel, 175

Wormwood, 77

Y

Yarrow, 80

Yellow Eyebright, 84

” Foxglove, 121

” Gentian, 116

” Lousewort, 85

” Rattle, 85, 116

” Violet, 45, 176

PRINTED BY

HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,

LONDON AND AYLESBURY.

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│ Transcriber's Note: │
│ │
│ The original spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have been │
│ retained, with the exception of apparent typographical errors │
│ which have been corrected without note. │
│ │
│ Word combinations that appeared with and without hyphens were │
│ changed to the predominant form if it could be determined. │
│ │
│ Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. │
│ │
│ Italicized words are surrounded by underline characters, _like │
│ this_. │
│ │
│ Mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved between paragraphs │
│ and some illustrations have been moved closer to the text that │
│ references them. The List of Illustrations paginations were │
│ changed accordingly. │
│ │
│ Other corrections: │
│ Page 16: Ansel changed to Ancel (‘the Pas d’Encel.”) │
│ Page 129: prom e changed to promise (“showing promise of a │
│ fiery autumn.”) │
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