It must not be thought that the wild garden can only be formed in places where there is some extent of rough pleasure–ground. Excellent results may be obtained from the system in comparatively small gardens, on the fringes of shrubberies and marginal plantations², open spaces between shrubs⁴, the surface of beds of Rhododendrons, where we may have plant–beauty instead of garden–graveyards. I call garden–graveyards the dug shrubbery borders which one sees in nearly all gardens, public or private. Every shrubbery and plantation³ surface that is so needlessly and relentlessly⁵ dug over by the gardener every winter, may be embellished⁶ in the way I propose, as well as wild places. The custom of digging shrubbery borders prevails now in every garden, and there is[52] in the whole course of gardening no worse or more profitless custom. When winter is once come, almost every gardener, although animated⁷ with the best intentions, simply prepares to make war upon the roots of everything in his shrubbery border. The generally–accepted practice is to trim, and often to mutilate the shrubs, and to dig all over the surface that must be full of feeding roots. Delicate half–rooted shrubs are disturbed; herbaceous plants are destroyed; bulbs are displaced and injured; the roots as well as the tops of shrubs are mutilated; and a sparse⁸ depopulated aspect is given to the margins⁹, while the only “improvement” that is effected by the process is the annual darkening of the surface by the upturned earth.  
Illustrations of these bad practices occur by miles in our London parks in winter. Walk through any of them at that season, and observe the borders around masses of shrubs, choice and otherwise. Instead of finding the earth covered, or nearly covered, with vegetation close to the margin¹, and each individual plant developed into something like a fair specimen¹⁰ of its kind, we find a spread of recently–dug ground, and the plants upon it with an air of having recently suffered from a whirlwind, or some calamity¹¹ that necessitated¹² the removal of mutilated branches. Rough–pruners precede the diggers, and bravely trim in the shrubs for them, so that nothing may be in the way; and then come the diggers, plunging¹³ their spades deeply about plants, shrubs, or trees. The first shower that occurs after this digging exposes a whole network of torn–up roots. There is no relief to the spectacle; the same thing occurs everywhere—in botanic gardens as well as in our large West–end parks; and year after year is the process repeated.
 
[53]
 
While such is the case, it will be impossible to have an agreeable or interesting margin to a shrubbery or plantation. What secrets one might have in the central hidden portions of these now dug and bare shrubberies—in the half–shady spots where little colonies of rare exotic wildlings might have their first introduction to our wild garden! Of course all the labour required to produce this miserable¹⁴ result of dug borders is worse than thrown away, as the shrubberies would do better if let alone, and by utilising the power thus wasted, we might highly beautify the positions that are now so ugly.
 
If we resolve that no annual manuring or digging is to be permitted, nobody will grudge¹⁵ a thorough preparation at first. When a plantation of shrubs is quite young it is well to keep the ground open by lightly stirring it for a year or two. Then the planting should be so arranged as to defeat the digger. To graduate the vegetation from the taller subjects behind to the very margin of the grass is of much importance,[54] and this could be done best by the greater use of dwarf¹⁶ evergreens¹⁷. Happily, there is quite enough of these to be had suitable for every soil. Light, moist, peaty, or sandy soils, where such things as the sweet–scented Daphne Cneorum would spread forth¹⁹ its dwarf cushions, would be somewhat more desirable than, say, a stiff clay; but for every position suitable plants might be found. Look, for example, at what we could do with the dwarf–green Iberises, Helianthemums, Aubrietias, Arabises, Alyssums, dwarf shrubs, and little conifers like the creeping Cedar²⁰ (Juniperus squamata), and the Tamarix–leaved Juniper, in spreading groups and colonies. All these are green, and would spread out into dense²¹ wide cushions, covering the margin, rising but little above the grass, and helping²² to cut off the formal line which usually divides margin and border. Behind them we might use other shrubs, deciduous²³ or evergreen¹⁸, in endless variety; and of course the margin should be varied²⁴ also as regards height.
 
In one spot we might have a wide–spreading tuft of the prostrate²⁵ Savin pushing its graceful²⁶ evergreen branchlets out over the grass; in another the dwarf little Cotoneasters might be allowed to form the front rank, relieved in their turn by pegged–down Roses; and so on without end. Herbaceous plants, that die down in winter and leave the ground bare afterwards, should not be assigned any important position near the front. Evergreen Alpine²⁷ plants and shrubs, as before remarked, are perfectly²⁸ suitable here; but the true herbaceous type, and the larger bulbs, like Lilies, should be in groups between spreading shrubs. By so placing them, we should not only secure a far more satisfactory general effect, but highly improve the aspect of the herbaceous plants[55] themselves. To carry out such planting properly, a little more time at first and a great deal more taste than are now employed would be required; but what a difference in the result! All that the well–covered borders would require would be an occasional weeding or thinning, and, in the case of the more select spots, a little top–dressing²⁹ with fine soil. Here and there, between and amongst the plants, such things as Forget–me–nots and Violets, Snowdrops and Primroses³⁰, might be scattered³² about, so as to give the borders interest even at the dullest seasons; and thus we should be delivered from digging and dreariness³³, and see our once ugly borders alive with flowers. The chief rule should be—never show the naked earth: clothe it, and then allow the taller plants to rise in their own way through the turf or spray. Here is a little sketch³⁴ of what is meant. A colony of the white Arabis carpets the ground in which strong hardy³⁵ Lilies are growing; and the Lilies are pushing up their bold unfolding shoots. The latter are none the worse in winter for this light carpet of foliage³⁶ over the border; and then for a long time in spring it is bedecked with white flowers. Indeed, in fairly good seasons it blooms in winter too. It would take a big[56] book to tell all the charms and merits belonging to the use of a variety of small plants to carpet the ground beneath and between those of larger growth. It need hardly be said that this argument against digging applies to two or three beds of shrubs, and places where the “shrubbery” is little larger than the dining–room, as much as to the large country seat, public park, or botanic garden.
 
There are great cultural advantages too, in leaving the whole of the leaves to nourish the ground and protect it from frost or heat. I append a note from a correspondent inquiring about what he supposes practical difficulties, and an answer to them:—
 
You draw a pretty picture of what a shrubbery border should be and how it should be kept in winter. There should be no digging, and the fallen leaves should be left. I fully³⁷ agree, except as to the leaves. Theoretically, it seems quite right to allow the leaves to lie and decay amidst the surrounding plants, but in practice it does not answer. There are, for instance, in most gardens such things as slugs and snails³⁸. These delight in a leafy covering, and, protected from frost by the shelter, will prey³⁹ upon the perennial⁴⁰ green leafage and the starting crowns of the herbaceous plants, and do an immense amount of mischief⁴¹. Then there are usually in gardens in winter, especially in hard weather, blackbirds and thrushes, which in their efforts to obtain food set all notions of tidiness at defiance⁴². A troop of fowls⁴³ would hardly turn a flower border more topsy–turvy than would a few of these birds. The first storm that came would whirl the disturbed leaves all over the place, much to the disgust of the cultivator, and the hardy plants would find that the theory of a natural dressing of leaf manure⁴⁴ had broken down. I detest⁴⁵ the forking of borders so common in winter. A moderate stirring of the surface first with a two or three–tined rake is good, then a dressing of soot⁴⁶ or guano, or both, and over all a thin surfacing of old pot soil, or the rough screened produce of the rubbish heap, or, in fact, any kind of refuse soil that may offer. I think that most cultivators will agree that such a plan would answer better than the natural, but very inoperative leaf–dressing.—A.
 
How do the swarming⁴⁷ herbs of the woods and copses of the world exist in spite of the slugs? A good protection for them is hard gravel⁴⁸ walks and paths, where they lay their eggs without danger. Against the door one may do what one likes, but not one leaf would I ever allow removed from a clump⁴⁹ of shrubs or trees on my lawn or in my pleasure ground. I would prefer the leaves all over the place to a dug border, but I would, if need be, meet that difficulty by scattering⁵⁰ a light dressing of soil over them. In what I should call a properly managed shrubbery or clump, with the bushes well spaced, and their branches resting on the ground, with low shrubs between, and evergreen and other herbs, there are natural impediments to the leaves rushing about in the way you suppose. This is a subject of the greatest interest and the utmost practical importance. Our annual digging[58] mutilation, scraping away of leaves, and exposing on bare sloppy⁵¹ borders plants that in Nature shelter each other, and are shielded from bitter frost and burning heat by layers of fallen leaves, gradually sinking into excellent light surface soil for the young roots, are ignorant and brutal⁵² practices that must be given up by all who really look into the needs of our hardy garden flora⁵³.
 
With reference to this point, I print this letter from an observer of what goes on in the woods of New England. Our own woods are full of lessons, and so it is in all countries. Mr. Falconer’s letter is very suggestive of the revolution in method which must be carried out in the gardens of the future:—
 
I go into the woods in the spring time, and find them carpeted with Dog’s–tooth Violets, Wood Anemones⁵⁵, blue and purple Hepaticas, Spring beauty, Trilliums, Blood–root, Star–flowers, False Solomon’s Seal, Gold Thread, trailing Arbutus, wild Ginger⁵⁶, and a host of other pretty little flowers, all bright and gay, arising from their bed of decaying herbage and tree leaves, and many of them are in perfection, too, before a tree has spread a leaf; and thus they glow and revel⁵⁷ in their cosy⁵⁸ bed, fed and sheltered by their tree friends. When their petals⁵⁹ drop and their leaves are mature, the trees expand their leafy canopy⁶⁰ and save the little nurslings from the torture of a scorching⁶¹ sun. And early as the earliest, too, the outskirts⁶² of the woods and meadows with hosts of Violets are painted blue and white, and speckled everywhere with Bluets, or little Innocents, as the children call them. Woodsias, tiny Aspleniums, and other Ferns are unfolding their fronds⁶³ along the chinks among the stones; the common Polypody is reaching over blocks and boulders⁶⁴; and even the exposed rocks, with their rough and Lichen–bearded faces, are aglow

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