Part 8

The flower garden, as it is to-day, is quite modern. The finest of the hardy flowers are well grown in bold groups. Luxuriant are the masses of Phlox and tall Pyrethrum, of towering Rudbeckia, of Bocconia, now in seed-pod but scarcely less handsome than when in bloom; of the bold yellow Tansy and Japan Anemones; all telling, by their size and vigour, of a strong loamy soil.

Many are the arches of cluster and other climbing Roses; at one point in the kitchen garden coming near enough together to make a tunnel-like effect.

Wonderful is the colouring and diversity of texture!--the bright flowers, the rich, dark velvet of the half-distant yews, the weather-worn granite and rough-cast of the great building.

If the flowers in the second and third pictures were in our southern counties the time would be the end of August or at latest the middle of September, but the seasons of the flowers in Scotland are much later, and these would be October borders.

The Castle stands upon a wide, level, grassy terrace, which is stopped on the north-eastern side by the parapet of a retaining wall, broken by a flight of steps down to the path that is bounded by the two hedges of ancient yews shown in the first picture. These hedges divide the flower garden into two equal parts on the lower level, for, from where the Castle stands, the ground falls to the south and east. On each side of the steps, just beneath the terrace wall, is a flower border. Immediately on entering the double wall of yew there is an opening to right and left--an arch cut in the living green--giving access to the two square gardens, in both of which a path passes all round next the yews. There is also a flower border on two sides. The middle space is grass with flower beds; in the left-hand garden (coming from the Castle) are bold masses of herbaceous plants in beds grouped round a fountain; in the one on the right, for the most part, Roses and Lilies.

To the south-east, and occupying the space next beyond the rose garden and the end of the lawn adjoining the Castle, is the kitchen garden. The main walks have flower borders. Where the two cross paths intersect is a Mulberry tree with an encircling seat. The subjects of the second and third pictures are within the kitchen garden.

Many are the beautiful points of view from the kitchen garden, for there the grand yew hedges show beyond the flowers; then, towering aloft, comes the fairy castle, and then fine trees; for trees are all around, closely approaching the garden’s boundaries.

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The brilliancy of colour masses in these Scottish gardens is something remarkable. Whether it is attributable to soil or climate one cannot say; possibly the greater length of day, and therefore of daily sunshine, of these northern summers, may account for it. Of the great number of people who go North for the usual autumn shooting, those

FROM THE PICTURE IN THE POSSESSION OF

MR. GEORGE C. BOMPAS]

who love the summer flowers find their season doubled, for the kinds they have left waning in the South are not yet in bloom in the more northern latitude. The flowers of our July gardens, Delphiniums, Achilleas, Coreopsis, Eryngiums, Geums, Lupines, Scarlet Lychnis, Bergamot, early Phloxes, and many others, and the hosts of spring-sown annuals, are just in beauty. Sweet Peas are of astounding size and vigour. Strawberries are not yet over, and early Peas are coming in. The Gooseberry season, that had begun in the earliest days of August with the Early Sulphurs and had been about ten days in progress in the Southern English gardens, is for a time interrupted, but resumes its course in September in the North, where this much-neglected fruit comes to unusual excellence. It is a hardy thing, and appears to thrive better north of the Border than elsewhere.

It is one of the wholesomest of fruits; its better sorts of truly delicious flavour. It is a pleasure, to one who knows its merits, to extol them. It is essentially a fruit for one who loves a garden, because, for some reason difficult to define, it is less enjoyable when brought to table in a dessert dish. It should be sought for in the garden ground and eaten direct from the bush. Perhaps many people are deterred by its spiny armature, and it is certain that, when, as is too often the case, the bushes are in crowded rows and have been allowed to grow to a large size, the berries are difficult to get at.

But the true amateur of this capital autumn fruit has them in espalier form, in a few short rows, with ample space--about six feet--between each row.

The plants may be had ready trained in espalier shape, but it is almost as easy to train them from the usual bush form. The vigorous young growth that will spring out every year is cut away at the sides in middle summer; just a shoot or two of young wood being left, when the bushes have grown to a fair size, to train in, to take the place of older wood. The plants being restricted to the fewer branches that form the flat espalier, more strength is thrown into the ones that remain, so that the berries become larger; and, as plenty of light and sun can get to the fruits, even the best kinds are sweeter and better flavoured than when they are allowed to grow in dense bushes.

Then when the kinds are ripe how pleasant it is to take a low seat and sit at ease before each good sort in succession! The best and ripest fruits can be seen at a glance and picked without trouble, in pleasant contrast to the painful, prickly groping that goes on among the crowded bushes. No one would ever regret planting such excellent sorts as Red Champagne, Amber Yellow, Cheshire Lass, Jolly Painter, a large, well-flavoured and little-known berry, and Red Warrington, a trusty late kind. To these should be added two admirable Gooseberries lately brought out by Messrs. Veitch, namely, Langley Green and Langley Gage, both fine fruits of delicious flavour.

If such a little special fruit space were planted in these large Scottish gardens, and the merits of the kinds became known, the daily invitation of the hostess, “Let us go to the gooseberry garden,” would be gladly welcomed, and guests would also find themselves, at various times of day, sauntering towards the gooseberry plot.

How grandly the scarlet Tropæolum (T. speciosum) grows in these northern gardens is well known; indeed, in many places it has become almost a pest. It is much more difficult to grow in the South, where it is often a failure; in any case, it insists on a northern or eastern exposure. Where it does best in gardens in the English counties is in deep, cool soil, thoroughly enriched. When well established, the running roots ramble in all directions, fresh growths appearing many feet away from the place where it was originally planted. It looks perhaps best when running up the face of a yew hedge, when the bright scarlet bloom, and leaves of clear-cut shape, are seen to great advantage, and many of the free growths of the plant take the form of hanging garlands.

FROM THE PICTURE IN THE POSSESSION OF

MRS. CROFT]

KELLIE CASTLE

Kellie Castle in Fifeshire, very near Balcaskie, is another house of the finest type of old Scottish architecture. The basement is vaulted in solid masonry, the ground-floor rooms have a height of fourteen feet; the old hall, now the drawing-room, is nearly fifty feet long. A row of handsome stone dormers to an upper floor, light a set of bedrooms, which, as well as the main rooms below, have coved plaster ceilings of great beauty.

There is no certain record of the date of the oldest part of the castle. It is assigned to the fourteenth century, but may be older. The earliest actual date found upon the building is 1573, and it is considered that the mass of the castle, as we see it now, was completed by that date, though another portion bears the date 1606. It belonged of old to the Oliphants, a family that held it for two and a half centuries, when it passed by sale to an Erskine, who, early in the seventeenth century, became Earl of Kellie. In 1797, after the death of the seventh Earl, it was abandoned by the family and soon showed signs of deterioration from disuse. About thirty years later the Earldom of Kellie descended to the Earl of Mar, and the family seat being elsewhere, Kellie was allowed to go to ruin.

In 1878 the ruined place was taken, to its salvation, on a long lease by Mr. James Lorimer, whose widow is the present occupier. It has undergone the most careful and reverent reparation. The broken roofs have been made whole, the walls are again hung with tapestries, and the rooms furnished with what might have been the original appointments.

The castle stands at one corner of the old walled kitchen garden, a door in the north front opening directly into it. The garden has no architectural features. There are walks with high box edgings and quantities of simple flowers. Everywhere is the delightful feeling that there is about such a place when it is treated with such knowledge and sympathy as have gone to the re-making of Kellie as a delightful human habitation. For two sons of the house are artists of the finest faculty--painter and architect--and they have done for this grand old place what boundless wealth, in less able hands, could not have accomplished.

Close to the house on its western side is a little glen, and in it a rookery. When strong winds blow in early spring the nests in the swaying tree-tops come almost within hand reach of the turret windows of the north-west tower.

How the flowers grow in these northern gardens! Here they must needs grow tall to be in scale with the high box edging. But Shirley Poppies, when they are autumn sown, will rise to four feet, and the grand new strains of tall Snapdragons will go five and even over six feet in height.

As the picture shows, this is just the garden for the larger plants--single Hollyhocks in big free groups, and double Hollyhocks too, if one can be sure of getting a good strain. For this is just the difficulty. The strains admired by the old-fashioned florist, with the individual flowers tight and round, are certainly not the best in the garden. The beautiful double garden Hollyhock has a wide outer frill like the corolla of the single flowers in the picture. Then the middle part, where the doubling comes, should not be too double. The waved and crumpled inner petals should be loosely enough arranged for the light to get in and play about, so that in some of them it is reflected, and in some transmitted. It is only in such flowers that one can see how rich and bright it can be in the reds and roses, or how subtle and tender in the whites and sulphurs and pale pinks. Other flowers beautiful in such gardens are the taller growing of the Columbines, the feathery herbaceous Spiræas, such as S. Aruncus, that displays its handsome leaves, and waves its creamy plumes, on the banks of Alpine torrents, and its brethren the lovely pale pink venusta, the bright rosy palmata and the cream-white Ulmaria, the