. 1 ' I
the difficulty of cultivating Ferns, and have met with
none myself, I will here describe the management
which I have found successful.
Whenever I met with a Fern which I thought
would be worth the trouble of removing, I invariably
noticed the situation in which it grew—whether it
was naturally exposed to sun, rain, and wind;
whether it grew on a horizontal or perpendicular
surface; and whether its fronds were erect, horizontal,
or pendulous; whether its roots enjoyed
depth o f earth, or were simply
“ Moored in the rifted rock.”
And having thus minutely observed every natural
peculiarity, my next object, when the Ferns had
reached home, was, to copy Nature as closely as
I could; not, indeed, to imitate rocks and mountains
by a structure of flints, Bath-bricks, or clinkers, but
simply by supplying to each, as far as possible, the
adjuncts which it naturally enjoyed : thus, some bog-
lovers, as Osmunda regalis, where placed in slight
excavations, which I could readily flood with water ;
others, as Ceterach officinarum, which, almost deserting
its native station on rocks, has established itself on
our mortared walls, I supphed with crumbled mortar,
carefully introduced between the stones, and placed
the root, so that, in all rains, and in the constant waterings
in which ferneries rejoice, it should remain as
dry as possible; for to the roots of some Ferns wet is
as injurious as it is needful to the well-being of others.
With regard to Osmunda, and those plants which
require perpetual moisture, the only effectual way of
supplying it is by planting them in a vessel (a grape-
jar, for instance,) filled with bog-earth ; this could be
immersed in the ground, and any degree of moisture
might be maintained without trouble, as the vessel
would prevent it from being rapidly absorbed by the
surrounding earth.
A fernery, to supersede the necessity of care and
attention, should possess abundant space, a pure
atmosphere, a variety of surface, natural shade, and a
natural fall of water ; but all these advantages can be
so closely imitated, that I believe there scarcely
exists in the United Kingdom a plot of a few square
yards in which the zealous cultivator might not
accomplish every thing he desired, and, with attention,
cause the artificial to exceed in beauty the
natural fernery; for the destruction by frost and
wind, both highly injurious to Ferns, may, with a
little management, be completely avoided.
In my own fernery I possess but one natural
advantage—that of an atmosphere tolerably free
from smoke; on three sides, east, south, and west,
there is a straight brick wall; on the north, there is
an artificial mound, tolerably covered with shrubs;
to the east, beyond the wall, are some large lime-
trees, which completely shut out a summer morning’s
sun; at noon, the south wall casts its shadow on
those Ferns which are planted purposely within its
reach, and these can only be illuminated for a single