THE FLOWER-SHOW AT THE HORTICULTURAL GA.RDENS.
rpHE coldest day of the spring, and a steady down-pour of rain,
turning the garden walks into ponds and the garden beds into quagmires, filling the open space with driving mist, through which the long galleries of the South Kensington buildings look gaunt and dreary in glimpses,—such were the circumstances under which the first Rose and Azalea Show of the year was held on Wednesday. The general aspect of things was dispiriting as one made one's way past the hideous entrance, with its uncom- promising deal and damp stucco, to the cavernous road to the arcades, very like the vaulted passages of the Clapham junction plus a clay floor and a sickening odour of white paint and size. An interval of conservatory, then a passage through the intricacies of some dripping scaffolding, which may possibly turn into a trellised arch by and by, through the refreshment room,. which it does seem a little unreasonable that all visitors should be obliged to pass through, whether they like to be pushed about by hurrying waiters, and to see their fellow-creatures having drinks at a bar, or not, and so we get the first glimpse of the great banks of delicate blossom and rich colour. The absence of light, for the day was hopelessly grey, and the clouds did not lift for a moment, and the driving of the rain against the windows, deprived the scene of the gay brightness which ought to characterise a flower show ; and the remarkably ugly drab curtains which drape the glass front of the arcades might have been looped back with advantage ; but these drawbacks could not seriously impair the pleasure of gazing upon the endless profusion of flowers, in their wonderful combination of nature and art. Whether those who know how it is all done, or those to whom the pyramids and the bushes, the mingling of colours, rich or delicate, the stripes, the variegations, the multiplying processes of horticultural science are as mysterious as they are beautiful, extract a greater amount of pleasure from such a spectacle as the arcades and the great tent displayed on Wednesday, is a question which each class will answer in its own favour, but the wonder of it must surely have a great share in the delight. The first object on which the eye rested after the general effect, so gorgeous and yet so refined, had been experienced, was a bank of c]e- matis, their wide-spread, graceful, star flowers of every shade of mauve, mingled with the purest white. The most beautiful among them, one with a flower of the softest, snowiest white, bears the name of Miss Ba.teinan. Just beyond this low- lying bank of beautiful form and colour is ranged a collection of orchids, which attracted close attention from both the learned and the unlearned in those marvellous creatures, of fantastic shape and hue. Here is a villosum, exactly like a Turkish slipper in glistening earthenware, with a large Cavalier-bow on the instep ; and a punctatum, with tiny intricate blossoms, yellow ground, red-spotted like ancient bedroom chintz of Oriental pattern, hang- ing from tall, bending, overlapped stalks like scaly snakes, which expand into green, reed-like fans. Here is a curious cypripedium (the superbicus), of Japanese extraction, precisely like a brown watch-pocket ; and beside it another, most beautiful, which might be a fairy-cradle shadowed by the tiny palms of elfinland. One looks into the pretty balanced bauble for the elf-infant. These are exhibited by Mr. Bull, of Chelsea. A beautiful pyramid of azalea indica close by claims to be "the flower of the day," and holds a proud place among the azaleas exhibited by amateurs who have not previously gained the Horticultural Society's prizes. Bat between these and the great show of azaleas exhibited by Mr. Turner and others lies a small Rose Kingdom where one lingers. The roses, Mr. Veitch's Mr. Turner's, and Mr. Paul's, are in pots, and every rose is a study of form, colour, and sweetness. Perhaps quite the most exquisite is the "Princess Beatrice," of a rich pink, and like the old cabbage-rose we so seldom see now, in its dewy bloom and lavish sweetness. Taken singly, the small pots of the succeeding division—they must not exceed eight inches in width —with the profusion of full-blown flowers in them, look rather stiff, and the lack of leaves is not to our taste, though of course correct, but en masse the effect is delicious. Among these are several fine specimens of the "President Thiers," very full bloom indeed; of the "Richard Wallace," rich and lavish ; and of the "Etienne Levet," whose closely folding leaves are remarkably beautiful in form. The tiers of these lovely things which scent the damp air, and hardly suffer in their glorious bloom from the dull lightleasness, rise against a background of tall green plants, very well assorted, and beyond them is a many-tinted forest of azaleas, which with the tree roses form the chief attractions of the Show. To a huge pyramidal mass of white blossoms, incomparably delicate, and symmetrical, leafless, but without interstices, exhibited by Mr. Turner, the first prize has been adjudged. One looks, assents, and then gazes at the whole wonderful display in undiscriminating admiration ; after awhile individuals are singled oat; here an azalea Stanleyana, the blossoms of camelia-japonica colour, so firmly set upon their back of green leaves, that the tree instantly reminds one of a farthingale in brocade,—the "little mice" might run in and out beneath it, and Browning's " bell-flower " face bend over its stiff expanse, and not surprise us much ; then a gorgeous scarlet refulgens, slightly injured in its effect by too close contact with a beautiful sister whose blossoms are pink. Here is the " Reine des Roses "—(does the name mean a rivalry of kind, or an individual assertion ? it is a little insolent either way,)—of a beautiful clear red ; the " Reine des Pays Bas," of delicate pink tints, and the "Beauty of Surrey," on which the county is to be congratulated. Over all the colour and bloom and form the eye now ranges, and now rests, to make the acquaint- ance of one of these stately creatures, or may be only one of their blossoms, but, ranging or resting, is ever satisfied with beauty. Beyond this great extent of blooms, stately of form and tall of stature, lies the realm of the Tree Roses, with a
suburb of cut flowers, of which everyone is a picture. In one box are three curled darlings, faint, downy yellow, so individual, so living, that they mutely protest with their sweet breath against being called " specimens." They are the " Marechal Niel," and their leaves are curved under as if a zephyr had done it daintily that moment.
Prominently placed among the tree roses exhibited by Mr. Paul is a magnificent "Juno," full of leaf, and full-blown flower, haughty, - majestic, deep-coloured, and in admirably chosen contact a "Horace Vernet," neither brown, nor purple, nor red, but a mar- vellous blending of all three, in texture of velvet, with a dusky down like that of butterflies' wings. But the "Elie Moral" is as little beautiful as a rose can be ; its form is heavy, and its colour is a cold, hard- pink, with a distinctive soupcon of magenta. Among Mr. Turner's roses stands an azalea, one of the most beautiful things there. It is the "Apollo," of moderate size, the blossom large, exquisitely delicate, pure white, save for one streak of red, the mark of the Sun-god's kiss. They might all be faded before one could adequately study the beauty of the roses which surround it ; of "La France," a splendid tree, laden with heavy rich pink flowers, the curled leaves all perfect, and as if cast in one would; of the "Madame de St. Joseph," with a tinge such as pink roses mashed up in cream would give ; of the "Souvenir d'un Ami," with its deep yellow pendent ceufs de Paques ; of the " Celine Forestier," which is so like yellow crape, that the discordatt intrusion of millinery on the imagination is inevitable in the pre- sence of its crisp, crimpy buds ; of the supremely beautiful "Anna Alexieff ;" of the profuse and majestic "John Hopper"—which is not a pretty name — with its grand deep red clusters ; and the "Souvenir de la Malmaison," most poetical of roses. Beyond the roses are calceol arias in bewildering variety. The first prize has fallen to the "Queen Victoria," a splendid specimen, hung with innumerable bloated purses of Turkey-red and yellow ; but though larger, hardly so beautiful as its near neighbour in deep, dusky, carbuncle colour ; or that, a little more distant, like halves of giant strawberries. They are beyond counting, in variety and colour. Marksman, Sparkler, Beauty, Emperor, and Formosa are the most striking, on a neces- sarily cursory inspection—which brings us to Lord Londesborough's rare and beautiful orchids, and to a collection of heaths, the more enjoyable that it is not too large, and we can take in the full beauty of the waxen blossoms, white, and pink-tipped, crimson, and white tipped. Here is a marvellous " medonnella magnifica," heavy laden with down-hanging, pink, egg-like flowers, and silken stems of tenderest green; and here a " phalaeonopsis grandiflora," with exquisite blossoms, f/ear-de-lys shape, with curling tendrils, anctits stems carefully wrapped in cotton wool, like a gouty patient. Here are some fine tricolour pelargoniums and huge mignonette plants in pots, their perfume blending with the rose scents on one side and those of some tall and richly-coloured carna- tions which belong to the humbler portion of the Show on the other. Humbler, it is true, but still beautiful and delightful, for here are garden and border flowers, the suite of the royal beauties holding their high state within—familiar things to all, though with many a modification, since the polyanthus of our childhood stood bolt upright and stared at us with its yellow eye, in its changeless red-brown velvet coat ; when pansies were not puzzling, because when they were not purple they were yellow; and the whole art of gardening might be learned from Mary Howitt's garden, "as full of flowers as it could be, with London's Pride for its border." The yellow narcissus is here,—do the Cornish folk still banish it from their houses, holding it "unlucky "?—and the sweet white primula, like a delicate full-blown poppy ; here is the snow-white phlox, and the polyanthus as it used to be, and also as it used not to be. The long-ago gardens had no such tenant as this modern lady-like personage in sweda velvet and powder, with crimped edges, speckled eyes, and a stem of eau-de-Nil tinge. Box after box of cut pansies, pot after pot of bedding pansies, all so beautiful, many that we know,—there's the "two faces under a hood," and there's the "peeper,"—and many that are quite new ; the "Hercules," in shades of lilac ; the "Monarch," in shades of reddish-brown; the "Modesty," light mauve ; the "Great Eastern," cream-white ; the beautiful "Black Diamond" and the "Foam," overflowing with snowy luxuriance a great basket, and marked "extra prize." They are violet, they are of geranium tints, they are golden, purple, and these colours blended ; they are single, and double, and of various shapes ; every individual flower haa the mild, living look which especially belongs to the pansy.
The rain poured upon the canvas roof of the great tent, and made its way in rivulets across the moss-bordered paths beneath
it. But the scene was a beautiful one, for all that, and tempted numbers of the ladies in seasonable velvet, sable, and sealakin (but in summer bonnets) to cross the wet way from the arcades. The display of roses—all Mr. Paul's—and their arrangement, on raised banks of moss, and with ample space between the groups, was exceedingly beautiful. Remarkable among the number were a " Ccear de Lion," deep blood-red ; a flaunting " Aspasia," brilliant and thorny ; a "Princess Christian," of dahlia-like dimensions, and curiously rolled leaves ; and a unique Tea-rose, with leaves like those of a tulip, and pointed, the colour a faint hydrangea pink ; and a "Prince Camille de Rohan," a superb flower, in claret- colour, of crinkly velvet texture. One of the prettiest things which the tent shelters is a basket heaped with variegated vines. It lies on the slope of a moss bank, as if a troop of wood nymphs were coming presently to choose their wreaths. Had there been a little sunshine, the scene might have satisfied Nourmahal.
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