1857 - Tantalizing Titbit: Seedsmen J. M. Thorburn & Co. Peel Off the Brother-in law

It is SO annoying to have a few issues unavailable anywhere online because of copyright, while earlier and later issues are available.  I always feel the universe is teasing me!  Who would care if a 1929 magazine was quoted?!  And who has a copyright on a few years and the rest are public domain...and why??!!   (And why do I find tracking down  the information so interesting?)

1909 - Livingston Seed Co., on Columbus, Ohio's Main Street

Tracking down where this 1909 postcard was drawn was so much fun! 

This very cool postcard has enough clues to allow identifying the seed store as the Livingston Seed Company store. 





The store with "The Union" sign is The Union Clothing Store at the corner of Long and High.  That fits with Livingston's address of 114 High Street.   The lighted arches are wonderful!!

1923 - "Mighty Poor Stuff" - Bad Day for Cinnamon Vines

In 1896 A. T. Cook was offering Cinnamon Vines as the answer to the nurseryman's prayer for a great selling vine. 

He continued contracting growers to supply the tubers for many years. 

This note turned up on eBay illustrating some problems.

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.