these were immediately followed by the Tradescants; a crowd of botanists, herbalists, and collectors added grace even to the days of Elizabeth, and left their mark upon the reigns of the first two Stewarts; soon after the dawn of the last century, too, Fairchild had already carried out the first successful experiments in cross-fertilisation in his garden at Hoxton, and Richard Bradley had made a study of the movements of sap; a little later, we find Kew acquiring fame under the skilful hand of William Aiton, while a general advance was being made in the practical branches of horticulture, and the books dealing with the garden were increasing in value and importance each year. But, although a steady building up had thus been going on, it was reserved for this century to produce Charles Darwin; and if we omit the names of those who have given their lives to the study of plant life and are still doing so, we may at least refer to the labours of such men as Sowerby, Loudon, John Lindley, William Hooker, and William Johnson. The advance has indeed been amazing, and the results have been of far-reaching importance; yet, while we may contemplate our own achievements with satisfaction, we must loyally honour those labourers who went before, The making of our gardens, our very love of flowers, like our powers of appreciating them in all their beauty and significance,has not been the work of this century or of that; it has been the result of education, and the careful and patient labours of generations. Our gardens have progressed as the nation progressed; they grew gradually more beautiful, and received more attention and regard as security and prosperity increased in these islands; and they have now gained for themselves a very distinct place in our lives as in our affections. Bearing this in mind, and following for the most part the course taken in the volume before us, let us go back to the days when the pleasures of the garden were confined to few, and the wealth of flowers that is ours to-day was as yet unknown.

No records appear to be in existence showing that gardening was practised in this country previous to the Roman Conquest. In gardening, as we have said, the Romans were highly skilled, and there is no doubt that they brought with them many of the vegetables we still grow, as well as many of our fruits and flowers. They laid out their gardens here very much on the plan of those around Rome, and for a time, at least, the inhabitants of these islands reaped no inconsiderable advantage. But then there came a change. The fall of the Roman Empire was followed by invasion, war, bloodshed; the arts of peace came to be no longer practised; gardening died out almost altogether

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in this country, and our Saxon ancestors had to content themselves for many a long day with those vegetables, fruits, and herbs that had been sufficiently long in the land to become acclimatised. They appear to have had some sort of cabbage, for White of Selborne mentions that they called the month of February sprout-cale.' They also, possibly, had leeks, the beet, radish, onion, and a few other herbs and vegetables; their fruits included the cherry, which is indigenous, pear, mulberry, peach, and grape; and among their flowers were the rose, violet, poppy, and lily. We may, however, estimate how much was lost, from the fact that many species which had once been common had to be re-introduced in later times.

But long after Saxon days gardening continued to be little thought of, and it is not until we come to the eleventh and twelfth centuries that we meet with any garden records, and then only in connexion with the monasteries. The monks were

men of peace if not men of leisure, and the storms that swept the country left them unharmed. In the religious houses vegetables were an important item of diet, and no doubt the correspondence that was carried on with Italy enabled the members of the different fraternities in this country to discover what to grow with the best chance of success. Thus the monks became the only really skilled gardeners in the land, and in the 'wyrtyerd' or plantyard of the abbey or the priory were to be found vegetables, the herbs used as medicines, and the flowers for the decoration of the altars; while hard by, and also under the control of the gardenarius, was the ortyerd' or 'the cherryyerd' with the fruit. Few traces of these grounds now remain; but the site of the orchards granted to the priory of Llanthony by King John is familiar to us, as also are the former vineyards of the Abbots of Gloucester. The terraces where the vines grew on Vineyard Hill, as it is still called, are easily traceable, though these were somewhat disturbed in the days of the siege by an earthwork thrown up to command the ford at Over and the great trunk-roads leading from Wales.

Of the gardens themselves little or nothing is left to us, and we can only gather an indistinct picture of their appearance from the old rolls and accounts, or make measure of their boundaries from the line of some ancient wall, or hedge, or, maybe, fishpond. But while we thus owe much to the monks who remained at home in peace, we are also indebted to the warlike Orders that possessed gardens in many parts of England, and were no doubt careful to bring home additions to them when returning from their expeditions to the East. The Oriental plane at Ribston is said to have been planted

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by the Templars, and Miss Amherst tells us that at the Chancery of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem in England, in Clerkenwell, there was a garden in the time of Prior Philip de Thame (1338) which was still existing in the reign of Henry VII., and also that the Hospitallers had a house and garden at Hampton on the site of the present gardens at Hampton Court. But it must not be supposed that the religious houses and Orders were the only owners of gardens in the Middle Ages. In feudal times, when castles and dwellings were built upon sites that lent themselves chiefly for defence, and moats often surrounded the walls, there was little space for a garden, and nothing to encourage men to lay them out or to cultivate them. Still gardens existed even then, and that there were royal gardens in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries is proved by the records of payments to the gardeners. We hear also of gardens at Clarendon and Windsor, at Westminster and at the Tower. Henry III. owned a considerable garden at Woodstock, and in 1250 orders were given 'to make, round about the garden of our queen, two walls, good and high, so that no one may be able to enter, with a becoming and honourable herbary near our fish pond, in which the same queen may be able to amuse herself.' The king, too, was not above selling his garden produce, no doubt to set against the expenses, his gardener receiving 100s. a year, and the labourers 23d. a day. In the Exchequer Rolls and Liberate Rolls, as also in sundry Record Office papers of the time, much interesting matter is to be found: not only are the wages and expenses duly entered, but also the prices obtained for various vegetables, as well as the names of the most popular sorts of apples and pears, such as the Costard and the Pearmain apple, the Regul and the Calwell pear, and the famous Wardons.

When we reach the fourteenth century, fine gardens and orchards are often mentioned, apart from those of the monasteries. Many of the colleges at Oxford and Cambridge made gardens of their own, Trinity Hall being a conspicuous example. Round London numerous gardens existed, and the market gardener was already in business. So general indeed was the progress that, before the fifteenth century dawned, gardens were almost always to be found adjoining dwellings of any size, and even the poorest farmers kept a plot of ground where they grew a few vegetables. But the gardens of those days were rarely flower gardens only the very rich indulged in flowers; the gardens of their poorer neighbours being devoted almost entirely to fennel and saffron, which were grown in large quantities, parsley, mint, garlick, leeks, onions, and cabbages. But if flowers were

little considered, fruit became more plentiful and received more attention. Cherries and strawberries were hawked in the streets of London, and medlars and peaches were common. Gooseberries and raspberries were also grown, but the apricot was not as yet introduced. One apple is particularly mentioned, the Bitter-sweet; fruit of this name, sweet when first bitten and bitter or sour afterwards, still grows in hedges in the West country, though now rarely gathered even for rough cider.

The gardens of the fifteenth century were generally small, square enclosures, very neatly kept; the paths were of gravel; seats made of turf were provided in recesses in the walls; and no garden was considered complete without an arbour and a 'playing place.' Flowers were grown, but many of these were destined for the same fate as the herbs-roses, violets, and primroses, among others, being eaten. The periwinkle was a very favourite flower in the gardens of the fifteenth century; and besides the commoner indigenous kinds, we hear of clove pinks, gilly flowers, white and red roses, the yellow and the purple iris, various lilies, cranesbills, poppies, the scabious, hollyhocks, peonies, and columbines. There was no dearth of flowers in those days, and we can picture these small, beautifully kept gardens, where 'showers sweet of rain descended soft'-sun-traps they must have been with their big, high walls-as gay as any of our own; the flowers sheltered and growing strong and tall; maidens weaving their chaplets; folk clad in the dresses which we associate with quaint illuminations and parchments; and the language talked in those turfed recesses, while the quiet hours slipped away, such as would recall the tales of Chaucer or the writings of Gower, Lydgate, or Skelton.

Early Tudor times witnessed many innovations and alterations in the garden. Railed flower-beds were introduced; the rails, some two feet high, of trellis form and painted various colours, no doubt foreshadowing the introduction, later on, of the 'knotte' or 'knotted bed' laid out in intricate geometrical patterns. The mount or raised place, generally crowned with an arbour or summer-house, also became a prominent feature and afforded a view of the country round; while the custom of clipping trees into quaint shapes, which had been practised by the Romans centuries before, and which was now known as 'topiary work' (ars topiaria), began to come into fashion. The garden was altogether receiving more attention: there was greater security for life and property; and, by the time Henry VIII. reached the throne, gardens were already growing in size, and were deemed safe if they lay beyond the shadow of the castle walls. The larger gardens were generally now managed

managed by a head-gardener, whose pay was 127. a year; the labourers receiving from 3d. to 6d. a day; the women employed in weeding, 2d. and 3d. a day; and the prices of garden tools ranging from 4d. to 1s.

In the reign of Elizabeth, the development of the garden was still more marked. The additions to the flower-garden included crown imperials, cyclamens, the Lobelia cardinalis, the passion flower, the cenotheras, sunflowers, larkspurs, marvel of Peru, sweet sultan, bachelor's buttons, and white lilac. Flowering trees and shrubs were also brought in in large numbers, among them the cotoneaster and the laburnum; and in the 'cook's garden,' besides new varieties of various vegetables, the potato was grown for the first time. We may remark here, that though potatoes were introduced in 1585-6, a long time elapsed before they came into general use, for we find Gilbert White writing in 1778: Potatoes have prevailed in this little district, by means of premiums, within these twenty years only, and are much esteemed here now by the poor, who would scarce have ventured to taste them in the last reign.'

The Elizabethan garden possessed many new features. Flowerbeds were now made open and were bordered by a neat edging of box, by lead or wood cut into a castellated pattern, or by the shank-bones of sheep. Topiary work and clipped hedges increased much in popularity; the maze came into fashion as well as the pleached alley or covert' walk, made by interlacing the branches of various trees, such as the wych-elm, hornbeam, willow, and lime. Arbours were also cut out of privet, or made of wood and covered with honeysuckle and clematis; lawns were nicely kept; walks grew wider, being known as 'forthrights'; and fountains, as also ponds and streams, were to be found in many gardens. There was thus an evident desire to break away from the earlier formality; and while our gardens in this way came to have a distinct national character of their own, horticulture generally received a great stimulus by reason of the knowledge that those highly-skilled gardeners, the Huguenots, brought with them to our shores.

No better description of the Elizabethan garden is to be found than the one Bacon has left us in his well-known essay. A garden to him was the purest of humane pleasures, the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and pallaces are but grosse handyworks.' The 'princelike' garden of the period should not, he thought, be less than thirty acres in extent, to be divided into three parts-'a greene in the entrance, a heath or desart in the going forth, and the maine garden in the midst, besides alleys on both sides.' Four

acres