1922 - A. T. Cook Still A. T. Cook

A. T. Cook was an enthusiastic promoter of his seeds and plants.   

P. T. Barnum, self-proclaimed “Prince of Humbugs”, comes to mind when I think of Cook. 

This illustration of Cinnamon Vine from his 1922 catalog is a picture of healthy fecundity gone  rampant! 

In the days before air conditioning the leaf cover would help keep your house cooler.

Shirley Dare wrote in 1888 for the American Garden about the many benefits of vines on the house, from privacy to hiding the house's need for paint!  She advised it would keep you "cooler in summer and warmer in winter". 

Warmer in winter?  Assuming leaves were still on it,  I suppose it could weaken winds that could infiltrate...but it sounds far fetched to me.



More posts on this interesting man:

1898 - A. T. Cook Is At It Again with the "Vegetable Peach"

1905 - A. T. Cook, Seedsman and Temperance Man

1917 - Good News that Makes You Smile (and a seedsman)

1923 - Mr. Cook's Roots Disappoint Mrs. Graves
This post relates to the Cinnamon Vine :-)
A. T. Cook - Good Advice on More Than Seeds

1894 - Tricks With Morning Glories

I was thinking about vines for cooling houses after looking at A. T. Cooks colorful lithograph of a vine covered home. This story caught my interest. This is the first suggestion for using morning glories inside the house in a window box I have ever seen. It was published in May, so I am assuming this was an idea for summer.

First things first, though, seed packets!

Windows arranged with plants are very attractive when tasteful selections are made, and they are well cared for. Nothing adds more to the beauty or a room, and nothing is more cheering than blooming plants.

A window arranged with morning glories looks like an outdoor bank of the dainty little flower bells, and yet it must be planned and watched to bring about this natural grace through cultivation. 

A box — as long as the window and rather deep —
is fastened under a window where the sun shines in. 

A network of cord is fastened so that when the vines grow large enough they will begin to climb upon it, growing upward and toward the center of the room. 

The cords are fastened to the edge of the box inside, and when the plants are old enough to remain where they are trained, the net can be dropped to the floor, leaving an overflowing bank starred with blight blossoms of pink, blue purple and white intermingled.

The cords or net must not be fastened downward permanently, but as often as convenient the bank should be lifted up when the sun shines, and the windows opened in warm weather to give them fresh air and make them grow more hardily. 

Besides, this is more convenient when sweeping is done so vines are not in the way and liable to be injured.

1894 - Source - pg. 272

To get more of a feel for the seriousness of window gardening just look at this!


This photo was published in 1894 in American Gardening in an article titled The Ideal Window Garden.

Morning-Glories for the Window-Garden.

—If there is a more beautiful flower than the morning glory it has never been introduced to us. The only drawback to its general use is its cheapness, which destroys the reputation of any plant. Just make the morning-glory cost one dollar a plant and societies in its honor would spring up all over the country.

But the morning-glory has virtues not generally known or appreciated. It is a perfect success as a window-plant. Put a few seeds, say six, in a six-inch pot, and within a few weeks they will be in bloom, and that before they make any attempt at climbing; the first flowers coming with the second pairs of leaves.

1890 - American Agriculturist

In a Godey's Magazine and Lady's Book of 1844 the morning glory was being used for shade.

Each parlour window was shaded by luxuriant vines of the Convolvulus major, the “morning glory” of America, and at that time a rarity in England, and cultivated with much care. 

These were planted in capacious pots, and trained like geraniums to clamber over large fan-spreading frames.

In 1838 The Prairie Farmer suggested using morning glories for beautifying.

The morning glory is so well known, as to make description presumptuous. There are, however, two or three species, and more varieties. 

The common mode of growing them is to plant the seed under the window, and train them up the sides of the house. The effect is pleasing, especially when the house happens to be of rough logs, though it is doubted if those yielding fragrancy us well as bloom might not be substituted to advantage near windows. 

There are, however, various nooks, corners and unsightly places about every dwelling, which may be covered by this strong growing vine. There is also another mode of growing this, as well as other annual climbers, which might be introduced to great advantage. It is to form a circular bed, and fasten down a barrel or hog-ahead hoop around its circumference, securing it to the earth by hooked pins driven into the ground.

In the centre of the bed for a stout stake of any desired height; then fasten strings or small wires from this hoop to the top of the stake, forming a cone, as represented in the cut. 

The vines will cover the whole of this, and present a beautiful figure of mingled green leaves and flowers.

Lastly, this article by James Bancroft from Success With Flowers, A Floral Magazine

MORNING GLORIES.

IT is, perhaps, advisable to assume a quiet resignation when asked exasperating questions in floral matters, and it is then that questions asking for cultural directions for raising Morning Glories can be treated with the gentlest and fullest consideration; but when a certain line is overstepped, it may be more satisfactory when the question is asked, "What is a Morning Glory anyhow?" to snub the questioner by assuring him that he would never become a Morning Glory unless he changed his habits and rose much earlier than the customary middle of the forenoon.

At a recent exhibition in a large city, two ladies, upon seeing a many-flowered branch of Allamanda, stopped to admire the " lovely yellow Morning Glories," as they called them, though one of the ladies hesitated to give them that name saying that she had never seen yellow ones before; but on the emphatic assertion of the other lady, she moved away apparently satisfied. There was certainly no harm done here, unless either of these ladies should afterwards assert that she had seen yellow Morning Glories, and therefore knew such existed.

There can be but few cultural directions to give regarding this flower, but perhaps the following pgintsmay be interesting, for no garden is complete without the Convolvulus Major, or Morning Glory, as it is commonly called. In gardens, where it is grown, it is not necessary to sow the seed, for the dry seed pods still hanging on the vine will protect the seed in the severest Winter, dropping the seed the ensuing Spring. The young plants can be destroyed when spading up the ground in the Spring, or they may be retained, or transplanted to other locations. 

Some people like to set a few around the Hawthorns, Spireas, or such like shrubbery, but when planted in such locations the vine will respond with a greater number and better quality of blossoms if set out in a hole full of rich earth.

The vines will readily run up the bushes, the green leaves of both blending with each other, and in August, and all through the Fall until frost, the bushes will present a lovely appearance in the morning hours, or on dismal, cloudy days, covered with the different red, white or blue blossoms.    A screen of wire netting arranged in front of the refuse heap was one year covered with these vines, and made a beautiful appearance. Another year they were allowed to run over an old Grapevine, and the past year in addition to the Grapevine they have run up some tall Russian Sunflowers, and nestle and peep out of the broad green leaves with great effect.

Like most climbing plants their habit is to mount in a direct line, but they can with occasional attention be woven into horizontal lines on the trellis; even if left to themselves their leaves will fill a trellis better than Scarlet Runner, Flowering Cucumber or other quick-growing climber. In making a screen a good idea is to combine all these climbers and plant some of each. This will give a variation of leaf and also of color among the flowers.

When planted around or near Dahlias, Cannas and the like, the vines should not be set out till the larger plants have made a good tall growth, else the vine will soon run to the top and fling out its long finger anxious for more support and seemingly disheartened by the lack.

When seeds of the different-colored flowers are desired to be separated, while the flowers are in bloom tie a string of the same color around the vine, and at and time after frost, or even on a pleasant Winter day, the pods can be picked, the husks rubbed off, and the seeds put into envelopes properly marked as to the color of the flower shown by the string.

Two strings of different colors and a single string on a vine is all that is necessary, but greater accuracy may be secured by using more twine.

The bud of the Morning Glory only opens once, but as they come in clusters a succession of flowers is assured.

Where it can be given plenty of air, the Morning Glory does fairly well grown indoors; its blossoms are usually much smaller. There are so many climbers more suitable for house culture, more desirable as a change from Summer flowers, that it is natural to feel that the garden is its proper place.—

James H. Bancroft, Mass.

1887 - Leptosiphon??

What is leptosiphon?

Vick's Illustrated Monthly Magazine and Floral Guide had these border suggestions for the 1887 gardens.   I liked the look of the page, the simple pink gypsophila, the multi-colored leptosiphon... the what?!

What sort of name is that?! Leptosiphon sounds more like part of an octopus!

Leptosiphon.    Now that is a name not jiggered by any commercial hopes.  It is a seriously un-cute name!

I wondered, could it have stayed so aggressively unlovely for 120 years?   

Then I looked it up, and yes - it can stay so aggressively unlovely!

Most all ads for seeds or plants just call it Leptosiphon.  

One or two mention it has a cute name - False Babystars - but only two that I found listed it as such. 







I found no reference in a simple search of old seed catalogs for False Babystars. Wikipedia will fill you in on the plant.

 

1814 - The Formidable Miss Macdonnell - Beekeeper and Society Lady

Miss MacDonnell appears to be a formidable woman of many interests, including horticulture and beekeeping.  I first encountered her in the article on Mr. Love - the good man who loved both pinks and his bees.  She gave him a hive of bees, and the article added she won prizes for her large honey combs at competitions.  This article is a charming introduction to early 19th century Scotland.

The Late Miss Caroline H. E. MacDonnell

I have added illustrations below when I could find them.  Many are postcard images.  There were none but the two portraits above (which I played with) in the British Bee Journal & Bee-keepers Adviser.

__________________________

OUR PROMINENT BEE-KEEPERS.

No. 32.—Miss Macdonell, Of Glengarry.

(Extracts from the autobiography of the last of the 'Chieftain's Daughters' bearing the name.)

'I was born at Glengarry on Loch Oich, the highest part of the Caledonian Canal, on September 27th, 1814, and quite close to the site of the old castle, which was blown up by Cumberland in 1746—a few yards from the garden in which the bees were kept. 

I am the fourth daughter of Colonel Ranaldson Macdonell, of Glengarry and Clan Ranald. My mother was a daughter of Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo, Bart., and before her marriage, at twenty-two, lived in Edinburgh. There were seven daughters of us and seven sons; six of the latter died under three years of age. 

Picture credit: National Gallery of Scotland

We were a bright and cheerful family, full of mental and bodily vigour among the mountains and glens of our Highland home. My mother was a very clever person in many ways, and wag quite bewildered at her new mode of life, having to send a horse and cart to Inverness (forty-two miles) for some coarse needles the housekeeper wanted: but many other useful articles came back in the cart. 

River Garry

My father's birthday, September 16th was always celebrated with Highland games. They generally took place in a field about two miles from the house. We children walked with our governess, the elder members drove—which sometimes seemed a very perilous undertaking, as they had to cross a wooden bridge over the river Garry, which used to shake violently.

The horses particularly disliked the sound it made; my mother was quite afraid, but my father was always determined that horses and servants should do their proper work, and her only relief was to patter her feet on the floor of the carriage, as he said screaming both frightened the horses and made the servants useless.

A young Highland huntsman

It was a great day for us children: tents were always pitched for shelter. The feats were splendid, and very different from what they are nowadays. 

I do not remember the weight of the stones or the hammers thrown, nor the weight or the length of the caber-tree; but the leaping was admirable over a pony's back, probably thirteen or fourteen hands high. 

Our piper used to tell us that he had performed the feat of leaning in and out of six herring-barrels placed close together in succession.  

After the games there was always dancing to the pipes in the evening, and the foresters and deer-stalkers did dance well. No one could appear at those games and dance, but in the Highland dress, kilts and plaids, looking beautiful.


When any entertainment took place on a Saturday my mother was most careful to put the clocks forward twenty minutes, so that the house should be cleared before twelve o'clock. 

A "deoch-an-dorius"—a parting glass of whisky —was given to each man in passing out.
(Note: Modern spelling is deoch-an-doris.)

 About 1824 the Caledonian Canal was opened, and after this our first boat-load of coals arrived at Glengarry; formerly nothing was burned but peat. My father had a large and handsome barge built, and that same year I remember seeing the first two hives of bees arrive.  My father was very anxious for everything that would ameliorate the condition of his people; he had an intense liking for all national things, which I inherited.

We three schoolroom girls were as wild as young goats on the arrival of a new governess from Edinburgh. Before she got to the front door a large deer-hound seized her muff and took it from her; her eldest pupil appeared at once and presented her with it, after scolding the dog in Gaelic. 

Without shops, the advent of a packman was hailed with delight, and justified our vanishing from the presence of the governess. The only other excusable occasion was a dogfight: at the first sound we were off and in the thick of the battle, to rescue a visitor's dog from the fangs of the deer-hounds; we had many of them, my father being very fond of deer-stalking. 

Sir Walter Scott with Maida

It was he who presented Sir Walter Scott with "Maida", his favourite stag-hound, named after the tattle in which my uncle, Lieut-Col. Sir James Macdonell fought.  It was this same uncle who held the gates of Hougoumont at Waterloo.  

This dog was Sir Walter's chief favourite, was often painted along with him, and died at Abbotsford in 1824 and was buried underneath the "leaping-on-stone", with this couplet inscribed:—
"Beneath the sculptured form which late you wore,
 Sleep soundly, Maida, at your master's door."

We were in the habit of going to Perth for the winter.  One season, in the end of November, my mother, fearing more snow, ordered twenty men with shovels to start early to clear the road, but more fell after we left.   Papa sent a message from the first carriage we were all to get out and walk. One of the maids fell into a wreath, and papa made a joke of her requiring two handsome fellows to pull her out.  The frost was very keen, and our wet clothes froze; the fringe at the foot of my brother's Glengarry in Waverley tartan trousers was hanging in icicles, and my second youngest sister was ready to cry with the intensity of the cold, but was told it would be worse for her then, as the tears would freeze on her cheeks.

My father started for Edinburgh with my two eldest sisters, a great storm arose, and the steamer was wrecked. On leaping on a rock he struck his head, and he died of brain fever that night (January 17th, 1828), and was buried on February 1st with all Highland honours. To the admirers of Scott it was well known my father was the prototype of "Fergus McIvor". His character was such as Sir Walter delighted to portray; and in the Procost, by Gault, there is an account of my father at the coronation of George IV.

Fergus McIvor is on the right...

Merchiston Castle

After our father's death we came to reside at Merchiston Castle, near Edinburgh.

We soon came to consider the confinement quite dreadful, and began to wonder how long it would take us to run some three hundred miles back to Glengarry again, so we measured how often round the battlements made a mile.



We started with as many bits of wood in our hands, leaving a piece each time we came to our starting-point. On these battlements we might sing our Gaelic songs as much and as loud as we liked. One day our governess was told by a friend that he had been quite startled when walking on the road by singing in the air, which no doubt emanated from the battlements.

Perhaps my first bee-memory was at Glengarry, when I saw a swarm proceed from our green-painted bee-house, and watched them taking up their quarters in the roof of the mansion-house, whence they were with some difficulty dislodged by the gardener. 

This is Cotton's book. Charles Cotton.

I remember seeing a large crock of Glengarry honey when we lived at Merchiston Castle in '28 or '29.   
We came to live in Bute in '41, and in '46 we bought a couple of hives near Mount Stuart, and used Cotton's book as our guide.   Our efforts in bee-culture at that time were not successful, after a long and varied experience, purchasing all sorts of hives and quite overloaded with bee-gear.

In 1878 we made the acquaintance of the gentleman who writes in your columns as "A Renfrewshire Bee-keeper," and he kindly invited my sister and me to pay him a visit, which we did, and he showed us his apiary, and explained everything to our entire satisfaction.

We saw his Scotch-made embossed wax machine, which he told us was stereotyped from the original German sheets long years before the American rollers were invented, or the words "Comb Foundation" coined. 

Stewarton Hive

His apiary consisted chiefly of storified colonies, cultivated with success in Scotland  centuries before the word "Tiering" was invented in America. All the combs in his hives were movable, in frames or bars, and in the shallow supers as well. His very beautiful watering device we admired much, as well as his original rotating Observatory hive, which had great attractions for us.

My sister was the first to set up a Stewarton colony, and I followed. They proved a great success, and we had the pleasure of exhibiting our beautiful supers at Rothesay Show.

The "Renfrewshire Bee-keeper " kindly gave us in 1880 the use of his trained boy, and he quite charmed us; so much so, we begged the loan of Peter again, and for that Saturday invited a few friends to a garden party at Lochna-Gaoidh to witness his doings.

The little fellow gave a few puffs of smoke from his brown-paper roll, doffed a cover, drew the slides, and explained it was necessary to give the bees time to supply themselves with food, then raised the frames, and handed them about, showing the queen and all the internal economy of the hive—and such an expert was he that he restored everything to its original condition without a sting to any one. Eleven years have sped past, and though Peter Kerr is now a full-fledged engineer, he comes to assist me still.

My Renfrewshire friend kindly ordered for me a similar Observatory to his own.  It was setup in the drawing-room at  Loch-na-Qaoidh, since removed to my present house in Rothesay. Nothing affords me greater pleasure on a holiday than having the teachers and children of my initiatory school up for a bee-lesson—our School Board teachers and children, too.  They are then shown how loyal the bees are to their queen, forming a body-guard around her, court etiquette practiced, retiring backwards before her. Each bee is prepared, if need be, to go forth and lay down its life "in defense of Queen and country".

There are no strikes in the beehive. They are too clannish for that; short shrift for the agitator there. They could not brook to see the honey drift past their own into other waxen kingdoms.

1893 - Smiley Mr. Lyle Made Pansy History

I was just tucking some more pansies into large pot when I noticed a lovely yellow one growing in the ground nearby, from last year's pansies that went to seed!  

The surprise of finding it made it even more charming. 


Upshot of all that is I dusted off a draft on pansy history that had been sitting around  waiting to be finished. 
I couldn't find many illustrations of the pansies named which is why I had shelved it.  But, he was a good man and deserves being remembered.

"...among amateurs no name stands higher than that of Peter Lyle of Kilbarchan."

1898 -Pansies, Violas, and Violets

The great popularity of the pansy, which reminds me a little bit of Tulip Mania, is extraordinary.  This article from Journal of Horticulture and Practical Gardening
is looking back on the earlier years and acknowledging Peter Lyle's place in pansy history.

 ____________________________________________________________________

 SHOW PANSIES AND MR. PETER LYLE.

The Pansy is essentially a Scottish flower, at once the most popular with first-rate florists and the most generally grown by the ordinary floral amateurs, from John O'Groats to Maidenkirk. 

The Show Pansy is a cross between our native Viola tricolor and V. cornuta. The raiser is unknown, as also is the date; but we may assume from various incidental circumstances that the fortunate man was from the neighbourhood of Paisley in Renfrewshire, and the period about the year 1823. 

 Medical Botany1832

Singularly enough, this is also the year when Mr. Peter Lyle was born, who, more than any other Pansy grower, has developed the flower by raising some of the very best sorts we yet possess, while from his youth he has kept true to the love of his heart, and is even now as keen and successful a grower of the flower as ever he was, as the grand beds he had to show last summer testified.   

While many districts in Scotland are associated with Pansy growing, such as Campsie, Newmilns, Vale of Leven, and others, Paisley has been the headquarters, and Kilbarchan, five miles west of the county town, has been noted for the enthusiasm of its florists, and may be counted as second in eminence.

Kilbarchan, where Peter Lyle lived. 
I decided to add pictures for anything I was
interested in even if it is a bit odd for this article. :-)

When Mr. Lyle was but a lad his zeal for gardening manifested itself in real hard work. So anxious was he to get his father's garden dug that he has done it three times in one spring ere the right time come, with just "the sid" of weather to justify the sowing of seeds.  The Pansy growers from whom Mr. Lyle caught "the fever" were Wm. Campbell, Duncan Cairney, James Dick, James Gilmore and John Love, the last named being figured in the Journal of Horticulture, October 1st, 1891.   (John Love was also from Kilbarchan. He was fond of pinks.)

1874 - Henri Fantin-Latour

1883 -Henri Fantin-Latour

Raising seedlings was the great hobby of the time, and when Mr. Lyle was twenty-five years of age, he went to his first show in Kilbarchan in 1848.  Before that date shows had been attended in Paisley, and a few friends met there from time to time in the evenings to discuss new blooms, and Mr. Lyle had to walk home in the dark the five miles to Kilbarchan.   To him this was no hardship, as he has ever been wonderfully quick of foot, and his fine constitution and wiry frame are even yet remarkably evident.   In the year 1850, or thereby, a great show of Pansies and other flowers took place in Falkirk, but Mr. Lyle did not attend it,  traveling thirty miles was not so expeditiously performed then as now. 

An old friend of my own, however, attended that show, Mr. James Peddie, gardener to John Gordon, Esq., of Aikenhead, Cathcart.   As a gardener and keen florist the West of Scotland had no other to equal him, and his taste in Pansies was perfect.  Mr. Peddie's first competition in Pansies was at Falkirk, and when he staged his blooms all eyes turned on the young fair-haired gardener and his stand of flowers.  The Secretary, the late Mr. Charles Jeffrey, at once was struck with the stand and complimented the exhibitor thereon, saying "he was sure no finer lot would be shown, and that this would be adjudged first." 
It was so, and from that day the real Scottish taste for Pansies may date, as thereafter the flower was a leading feature everywhere. I cannot name the blooms which were shown at Falkirk, but the following were the varieties most in vogue about that time—viz., 

The only one of the above mentioned I could find. *sigh*

• yellow grounds — Duke of Norfolk, Robert Burns, Gilbert Burns, Sir Charles Napier;
• white grounds, Miss Talbot, Lizzie, British
  Queen, Mountain of Snow;
• yellow selfs, Wonderful and Climax.

In Glasgow on 9th September, 1852, in George's Square, set out in tents, the tug of war came which decided the Pansy championship, and a full report was inserted in the Glasgow Herald. 

Here Mr. Lyle met Mr. Peddie, and was awarded the first prize in gardeners' and amateurs' classes for twenty-four blooms in each. A friend informed Mr. Peddie that he was surpassed by a man who had only 9 yards of a garden. This was true, yet could not be believed; so a gentleman was sent out to Kilbarchan to prospect, and on his return declared that the fact was so, and further that from the same plants in that small garden Mr. Lyle could stage forty-eight blooms any day, which would defy Scotland to beat them. 

It will be historically interesting to name the blooms as well as to show the source of our present stock as exhibited at Glasgow Show in 1852. The gardeners' class were: 

White grounds:

• France Cycole,
• Lady Mackenzie, 
• Aurora, 
• Royal Visit. 

White selfs:

• Princess Royal, 
• Jerome, 
• Queen of England, 
• Marchioness of Breadalbane. 

Forgive me, but I just had to look up the Marchioness of Breadalbane.  I found this evocative quote in a Google snippet - "...Marquis of Breadalbane came forward, when her Majesty cordially took his hand, and alighted from the carriage, followed by Prince Albert. Her Majesty was received by the Marchioness of Breadalbane, whom she ...".  I didn't look harder or further.  

Dark selfs: 

• Rainbow, 
• Duke of Perth, 
• Norah, 
• Maggie Lyle, 
• Othello, 
• Marchioness of Lothian. 

Yellow grounds:

• Duke of Norfolk, 
• Pizarro, 
• Polyphemus, 
• Juventa, 
• Supreme. 

There were two seedlings and Elegant, Sir Wm. Rae, and Lucy Neale. 

In the amateurs' class they were somewhat the same, varied by Gulnare, Napoleon, Princess Louisa, and Robert Burns. 
It is well to note that while to-day we have not one of these victorious varieties, we have some with similar names, as Robert Burns, which is still grown, but not the flower then exhibited. 

Again, there have been two distinct "Royal Visits" to commemorate Her Majesty's coming to Glasgow.

From this date a universal taste for Pansies took possession of our florists. High prices were paid for a small quantity of rare seed, and very soon the increase in fine flowers became notable, while the standard of excellence was gradually raised for form, colour, texture, belting, blotch, and last, but not least, the eye. These six points must be met in a bloom, each point being nearly perfect, or, if one is deficient, the flower is condemned. Size may be counted the seventh point; as, however well up the Pansy may be otherwise, if it is less than 1 1/2 inch in diameter it is not well grown.

Mr. Lyle's success continued, as he was a frequent prizewinner, notwithstanding the extended ranks of competitors.  Then his seedlings were famous, only the real beauties being sent out by him. Of many sorts raised, he often gave those away which friends admired, and his name as raiser was never linked with them at all, while the gems were eagerly sought after, and high prices given for them. 

...among amateurs no name stands higher than that of Peter Lyle of Kilbarchan.

For instance, for two, named Capt. Spiers and Emily Lyle, the late Wm. Paul gave him £7; then for a beautiful one named Maggie Lyle he received £3 10s. from Messrs. Begg & Paul, who brought it out; while for twenty cuttings of one or two promising seedlings he would be paid £1.   Nurserymen gladly add to their collections in this way, as amateurs usually concentrate their energies on one class of flowers, and the result is, as with Mr. Lyle, very special successes. 

(He seems a jolly man!)

A few of the most famous Show Pansies, raised by various florists, are as follows :

• Countess of Roslin, 
• Hugh Austin, 
• Lavinia, 
• Lady Lucy Dundas, 
• Miss E. Cochrane, 
• The Countess of Strathmore
• Flower of the Day. 

Of dark selfs some were really fine, and if Rev. H. H. D'Ombrain could be rediscovered today it would be yet prized. This one endured for more years than any other.   
Irene was introduced by Mr. Middlemass, and was very fine.   

The Black Douglas, and W. B. Spiers and Gem followed—the last a beauty, but small, though as a judge said, it was " guid, guid !" 
    
The late Thos. Hastie, of Strathaven, raised one long esteemed by growers, called James Dalzell, and which we still grow. Later Luna, and then Alexr. Watt, and David Malcolm brings the tale down to recent years.

 A white ground (Jane Grieve) was, however, the greatest wonder perhaps of any Show Pansy ever introduced.

    The method of culture pursued by Mr. Lyle may be of service to many lovers of his favourite flower. The cuttings are taken in September and set in cold frames in good soil and a little sand, lightly watered, and closed and shaded for a week or so, and air gradually admitted afterwards.   

During winter the frame is not kept rigidly closed, but raised a little to allow air to enter and escape in all ordinary weather, but closed in extreme frost. It is damp which destroys the Pansy.         

In March, if any fly appears, a little softsoap dissolved in water is syringed on the young plants and the pest destroyed.  This is repeated before planting out. In April the plants are set out, in soil new to them, as if planted again in the previous year's bed disease sets in. None but well-decayed manure is used, and this is dug in during the previous autumn. The soil is moderately rich and open; heavy clay soil will not do. 

After rains, when the earth is sodden, stir it freely between the plants with a hand-fork. This admits air, and the Pansy, though fond of moisture, cannot endure it to be stagnant. Until the plants grow and look robust, pluck off all the flower buds that show.When liquid manure is given it must be very weak, and in dry weather the plants must not be allowed to flag. As to the much talked of disease, healthy plants to start with are the best preventive; while new soil, in which Pansies have not been previously grown, will almost certainly keep back the invader.

Mr. Lyle's garden faces the south, and has been in cultivation for 150 years. Since he entered it, in 1861, it has only been trenched twice.   Not a weed is to be seen, and though narrow it is long. In trade a joiner, he has always been employed at home, and therefore well placed to give his flowers regular care.   Now, when nearing threescore years and ten, he finds enjoyment and exercise sufficient for his abounding vitality in his garden.    His foot is still light and buoyant, and his cheery spirit gay as ever. 

His children are away from home, one only having opportunity to develop the paternal taste for flowers.   His wife and he dwell in their own property, and are comfortable and free from worldly care.   In March Mr. Lyle will grow Pansies in seed boxes, prick out the seedlings in April into his empty frame, and plant in open ground in June, and be as happy in September over his seedlings, with many friends, as if toil and hardship had never been nigh him all his days.   New sorts will be added to the long list he has raised, let us trust even superior to Mauve Queen, Mrs. Jno. Bolton, Marquis of Lorne, Mrs. Gladstone, Mrs. Arthur, and the rest of his floral achievements, the praises of which we see in all the Pansy catalogues.

Many have worked in the same field with him, but to Mr. Lyle is due, more than to any other single person, the honour of having raised the Show Pansy to the perfection it has now reached.          —Alexander Sweet.

1891 - Reminiscences of Mr. John Love and His Beloved Pinks

Call me an old fuddy-duddy, but I love the way this is written. I came across Mr. Love when the I learned that 19th century pansy mavin Peter Lyle was influenced by him.

This article was published in the Journal of Horticulture and Practical Gardening, Vol. 23. 
I have had fun adding the illustrations.  The only image originally with the article is a portrait of Mr. Love which I used above in a "collage".

JOHN LOVE AND HIS GARDEN.

While driving in September from Bridge of Weir to Kilbarchan (Renfrewshire) we had begun to descend the hill above the latter town, when turning our eyes to the left we saw a wonderful crop of Apples, and found that the place was called Mount Pleasant. 

The present owner most obligingly escorted us around this fruitful orchard, and we soon found that what was to be seen from the highway was but a sample of the whole stock.

Scottish orchard near Renfrewshire.

 In making inquiry we found that about sixty years since the substantial house had been built by one John Tarbet, an old soldier who had in his time been a bombardier at the taking of Martinique. He had an eye for a fine Bite anyhow, and we can fancy him, while the days were declining, looking over the beautiful country around him and thinking how he could command with his artillery any radical rising which his keen political townsmen might be tempted to undertake. He planted fruit trees instead of batteries of cannon, and after his decease the place came to a relative, Mr. Climie, who continued the garden in cultivation, and his daughter married Mr. Love, the subject of our sketch.

About the year 1840 the young couple came to reside there. With a large garden to keep in order the evening hours were spent at home. In spring time useless trees were regrafted with good bearing sorts, if possible several different kinds being put on each tree. The old Keswick Codlin, the more modern Stirling Castle, with the best of the purely local varieties as the Lochwinnoch Pippin and the Golden Leadington (a variety whose name was suggested by Dr. Hogg) were carefully inserted, and now this year are just loaded with fruit. 

Thanks to http://www.nationalfruitcollection.org.uk/ !  The other two were not found.

A curious feature in grafting we observed, and which Mr. Love rejoices over yet, is his successful experiment of placing a Pear on a Hawthorn stock. The thorn is one of many stems, gnarled and twisted most curiously, while the Pear scion is inserted about 5 feet from the ground. To graft Plums on Thorn trees is not uncommon, but in another garden in Kilbarchan there is a Rowan Tree (Mountain Ash) with a Pear graft on it yielding even better results than this experiment at Mount Pleasant.

The Vale of Evesham was lovely!  

Here we see the old Caledonian Plum in fruit on its own roots. Some years it is so overloaded as to resemble the trees we see in the Vale of Evesham, but this is not a productive year apparently with it. In this old garden of an acre, or thereby, the trees arc thickly placed together, many now interwarped in their branches, while beneath them are Gooseberries and Currants galore.

The soil is a rich, red, vegetable mould, sloping to the south, but fully exposed to all the winds that blow. The Rose succeeds to perfection, and old-fashioned border flowers were beautiful, from the Snowdrops of January and February, till the blue autumn Crocus of September were buried beneath a whirling cover of bright October's leaves. All through the summer the busy bees of "friend John" were gathering honey from every flower and blossom, fertilizing the fruit trees, and largely adding to their production, as we all know who have fruit gardens and bees. The hives used were "the time-honoured "straw skeps of John's father and grandfather, and many a lovely "top" of pure honey our worthy friend has taken off here.'

Google Street View image on the Bridge of Weir Road.

"The Renfrewshire Bee-keeper" befriended Mr. Love, and many a hard question on their favourite subject has been discussed between them. Alas! for so many of us that he, who so well exemplified in his own life 'the grand old name of gentleman " is now gone for ever and ever, while of all who now mourn his loss John Love's sorrow for his kind friend is not the least. Not a doubt of it, for to a man of over eighty-five years new friends do not succeed quickly, and are never like the old ones. 

"The Renfrewshire Bee-keeper" was a gentleman who wrote a column for the British Bee Journal & Bee-keepers Adviser, and signed his name as such.

In a sunny space the plot is still defined where Mr. Love grew and raised his celebrated race of laced Pinks. Year after year in this spot they were grown to such perfection as to carry off the honours at all the shows round, from Glasgow to Eilbarchan. At every digging new soil was turned up, and thus the situation continued to suit his favourite flower. What grand specimens of the dark "Pirate" and "John Love," were cut here.
Every year seedlings were watched for, and the advent of a pod of promise was an event for local florists to come and see. Altogether the garden is one, for soil, situation, and association, much to be desired still. Now, however, the old veteran still keeps to the Pinks, fruits, and the bees, in a less vigorous fashion than of old in a new garden farther "doon the toon."   Hale and wiry, with eye bright and keen, active step, and toil-worn hand, we trust that he may long enjoy his garden joys.   And though "down in the valley" the long shadows of life's sunset are falling around him, and the last bees are settling home with their store, he has but to look upward and see that Mount Pleasant is glowing in the light, to have the glory of far distant summers borne in upon him.

As we go homewards up through the narrow street the people are in crowds, while the flower show is attracting all the florists of the district.  Time to gather honey, but not for themselves, so John Love's work was not for himself.  He sowed, and today we wear his seedlings in our buttonhole.  Younger men take up the love for flowers, but let them look with respect and gratitude on their horticultural ancestors into whose labours the have entered.   A. SWEET 

 [We have also received the subjoined notes respecting Mr. Love's career.]

Every man, apart from the profession or employment by which he gains a livlihood, ought to have what is usually called a hobby.  It matters little what that hobby is, provided it is innocent, and interests his mind and draws his attention away from the anxiety and worry which belong to the daily business of life. 

Idleness, whether of body or mind, besides being morally dangerous, is not rest. It is better to have a hobby which, by giving an agreeable change of employment, will refresh and improve both body and mind without adding anything perceptibly to their exhaustion. As to the kind of hobby to be chosen everyone must consult his own taste and circumstances. It may he music, or some department of science, or literature, or floriculture, or bee-keeping. This depends very much on the taste of the individual, the nature of his daily employment, and the circumstances in which he is placed.

Floriculture and bee-keeping, two thirgs very much akin, formed the special hobby of the person of whom notice is here to be taken. John Love, the eldest son of a father bearing the same name, was born at Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire, on April 10th, 1806. So healthy has he been that during more than fourscore years he has only on one occasion required medical advice. Much of this, doubtless, is to be attributed ti the simplicity of his life, and to his regular and temperate habits. 

There he is: of medium height and agile frame; a fine head, once covered with fair hair, but now bald with the exception of a few thin white locks; mild and meditative in expression ; the bloom still on his cheek, although eighty-five years of age by next birthday; for many years a happy "Benedict," but now a widower and the father of a numerous family; a good Christian man, and for a considerable time an esteemed elder in a Presbyterian church.

Like his father, and like the inhabitants of Kilbarchan generally, John Love became in youth a handloom weaver, and diligently plied the shuttle till beyond the age of threescore and ten. But while busy at his trade during the time he resided under his father's roof, he had parts of meal hours, and frequently half or whole days, occasioned by the change of one web for another, when he could gratify his taste for flowers by cultivating them, and acquire also a knowledge of the habits and requirements of bees by watching and attending to those kept by his father—who was an enthusiastic bee-keeper, as was also his grandfather before him.

Read the article here.

In his love for flowers John Love was by no means singular amongst his fellow tradesmen, the handloom weavers of Kilbarchan having, in most cases, a garden attached to their dwelling house. 

There is found amongst them a common love for flowers, and no little skill and competition in their cultivation. This refined taste seems to be natural, and is possibly to be traced to the many exquisite patterns and fabrics on which they spend their daily labours, whereby they insensibly acquire a knowledge of the harmony of colours and a taste for the beautiful. 

Certain it is many of them are keen and successful cultivators of plants, and even very good judges of the merits of flowers which they themselves have never grown and perhaps have seldom seen.

John Love is a man of this stamp. Having by-and-by persuaded one of the other sex to cast in her lot with him as his wife, and got a house of his own, he could, now that he was his own master, follow out more freely the innocent and interesting hobby towards which his heart was drawn. He soon became acquainted with many plants, and not a few of them has he to some extent grown, such as Tulips, Pansies, Roses, Carnations, Auriculas, &c.; but his favourite flower, his piece de resistance, has ever been the Pink. 

His bed of Pinks, when in its glory, has been generally a noteworthy sight. Looking at it over his garden wall at Mount Pleasant the bed at first glance may seem somewhat strange, and almost comical—short stakes at almost every plant, holding broken bowls and plates, and glass, and other ungainly contrivances; shading and sheltering some plants from a scorching sun or possible rain, holding hack others from a too early maturity, and stimulating some to a more forward growth. 

To view beautiful pinks available now, go to the Alwoods site.  What a lovely selection! Several pinks are from the 18th and 19th centuries.    By the way, the common plant name "pinks" is not referring to the colors.  It is referencing a jagged edge to the petal and blotches, like fabric cut with pinking shears.

This photo is from Alwoods.

But turn in and inquire for the master, and ask him to show you his Pinks; and he will cordially welcome you, and gladly, probably with head uncovered, lead you out, and with affectionate pride uncover, for your delighted inspection, his choice darlings.  

Probably he will tell you, "These there are this year's seedlings. This one here I think will do; it is distinct from all others in the bed, and has qualities equal at least to any one of them.  Here are also two or three which are very good, but before deciding what to do with them I must grow them another year.  As for these other seedlings, they are below the mark and without promise, and must be cast out. 

These tallied ones are the named Pinks.  This one—' Black-eyed Susan '—is not a very large flower, but it is distinct, well laced, and pretty, and tells well in a stand, &c." Before leaving him it is not unlikely he will say to you, "If you grow Pinks I'll give you, if I can spare it, a little grass of any one of them for pipings" -  for John Love is a generous man, and likes to encourage others in the cultivation of his favourite flower.

1843 - Gardening for Ladies: And Companion
 to the Flower-garden By Mrs. Jane Loudon

John Love's Pink stands at a competitive exhibition are worthy of remark. Each flower is so neatly fixed in the centre of a circular piece of white paper a little larger than itself, and the petals so deftly spread as to show to the best advantage the build, and markings, and lacings of the flower; and they are all so arranged on the stand, according to size and colour, as to present collectively to the eye a lovely and effective picture. 

Besides, after the judges have done their work you will commonly find attached to the stand a ticket, bearing in conspicuous print "first prize," and underneath this, in legible penmanship, "John Love, Kilbarchan."   This has been repeated so frequently as to earn for him the soubriquet of "Scottish Pink Champion". John Love's favour for the Pink has been a life-long one. It was cherished by him till his age extended beyond the threescore years and ten. It continued to be cherished by him even practically during his subsequent residence in Paisley for six years, and in Rothesay for five years more; and when, at the end of these eleven years, he returned to his native town happily there was attached to the premises in which he took up his abode an excellent garden, where he has given, and is still giving, abundant evidence that his love for his favourite flower has neither been extinguished or lessened by age nor superseded by a newer favourite, but is as enthusiastic as ever. 

His life now extends beyond the half of its ninth decade, but he still appears so strong, Fo active, so healthy, so cheerful, so much in the possession of every faculty with the exception of hearing (whose gates are not now wide open) that he bids fair to see, if not the completion, at least the beginning of bis tenth decade.

It may be added that during all his long and active life John Love has been conversant, theoretically and practically, with bee-keeping; but as the present writer is not very well acquainted with the plans and processes he followed in this kindred hobby he leaves it to some other, who is abundantly competent to write on the subject with intelligence and authority.

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