Vines
from Amateur Gardencraft
A home without vines is like a home without children--it lacks the very
thing that ought to be there to make it most delightful and home-like.
A good vine--and we have many such--soon becomes "like one of the
family." Year after year it continues to develop, covering unsightly
places with its beauty of leaf and bloom, and hiding defects that can be
hidden satisfactorily in no other way. All of us have seen houses that
were positively ugly in appearance before vines were planted about them,
that became pleasant and attractive as soon as the vines had a chance to
show what they could do in the way of covering up ugliness.
There are few among our really good vines that will not continue to give
satisfaction for an indefinite period if given a small amount of
attention each season. I can think of none that are not better when ten
or twelve years old than they are two and three years after
planting--healthier, stronger, like a person who has "got his growth"
and arrived at that period when all the elements of manhood are fully
developed. Young vines may be as pleasing as old ones, as far as they
go, but--the objection is that they do not go far enough. The value of a
vine depends largely on size, and size depends largely on age. During
the early stage of a vine's existence it is making promise of future
grace and beauty, and we must give it plenty of time in which to make
that promise good. We must also give such care as will make it not only
possible but easy to fulfil this promise to the fullest extent.
While many vines will live on indefinitely under neglect, they cannot do
themselves justice under such conditions, as any one will find who
plants one and leaves it to look out for itself. But be kind to it, show
it that you care for it and have its welfare at heart, and it will
surprise and delight you with its rapidity of growth, and the beauty it
is capable of imparting to everything with which it comes in contact.
For it seems impossible for a vine to grow anywhere without making
everything it touches beautiful. It is possessor of the magic which
transforms plain things into loveliness.
If I were obliged to choose between vines and shrubs--and I am very
glad that I do not have to do so--I am quite sure I would choose the
former. I can hardly explain how it is, but we seem to get on more
intimate terms with a vine than we do with a shrub. Probably it is
because it grows so close to the dwelling, as a general thing, that we
come to think of it as a part of the home.
Vines planted close to the house walls often fail to do well, because
they do not have a good soil to spread their roots in. The soil thrown
out from the cellar, or in making an excavation for the foundation
walls, is almost always hard, and deficient in nutriment. In order to
make it fit for use a liberal amount of sand and loam ought to be added
to it, and mixed with it so thoroughly that it becomes a practically new
soil. At the same time manure should be given in generous quantity. If
this is done, a poor soil can be made over into one that will give most
excellent results. One application of manure, however, will not be
sufficient. In one season, a strong, healthy vine will use up all the
elements of plant-growth, and more should be supplied to meet the
demands of the following year. In other words, vines should be manured
each season if they are expected to keep in good health and continue to
develop. If barnyard manure cannot be obtained, use bonemeal of which I
so often speak in this book. I consider it the best substitute for
barnyard fertilizer that I have ever used, for all kinds of plants.
The best, all-round vine for general use, allowing me to be judge, is
Ampelopsis, better known throughout the country as American Ivy, or
Virginia Creeper. It is of exceedingly rapid growth, often sending out
branches twenty feet in length in a season, after it has become well
established. It clings to stone, wood, or brick, with equal facility,
and does not often require any support except such as it secures for
itself. There are two varieties. One has flat, sucker-like discs, which
hold themselves tightly against whatever surface they come in contact
with, on the principle of suction. The other has tendrils which clasp
themselves about anything they can grasp, or force themselves into
cracks and crevices in such a manner as to furnish all the support the
vine needs. So far as foliage and general habit goes, there is not much
difference between these two varieties, but the variety with
disc-supports colors up most beautifully in fall. The foliage of both is
very luxuriant. When the green of summer gives way to the scarlet and
maroon of autumn, the entire plant seems to have changed its leaves for
flowers, so brilliant is its coloring. There is but one objection to be
urged against this plant, and that is--its tendency to rampant growth.
Let it have its way and it will cover windows as well as walls, and
fling its festoons across doorway and porch. This will have to be
prevented by clipping away all branches that show an inclination to run
riot, and take possession of places where no vines are needed. When you
discover a branch starting out in the wrong direction, cut it off at
once. A little attention of this kind during the growing period will
save the trouble of a general pruning later on.
Vines, like children, should be trained while growing if you would have
them afford satisfaction when grown.
The Ampelopsis will climb to the roof of a two-story house in a short
time, and throw out its branches freely as it makes its upward growth,
and this without any training or pruning. Because of its ability to take
care of itself in these respects, as well as because of its great
beauty, I do not hesitate to call it the best of all vines for general
use. It will grow in all soils except clear sand, it is as hardy as it
is possible for a vine to be, and so far as my experience with it
goes--and I have grown it for the last twenty years--it has no
diseases.
For verandas and porches the Honeysuckles will probably afford better
satisfaction because of their less rampant habit. Also because of the
beauty and the fragrance of their flowers. Many varieties are all-summer
bloomers. The best of these are Scarlet Trumpet and _Halleana_. The
vines can be trained over trellises, or large-meshed wire netting, or
tacked to posts, as suits the taste of the owner. In whatever manner you
train them they lend grace and beauty to a porch without shutting off
the outlook wholly, as their foliage is less plentiful than that of most
vines. This vine is of rapid development, and so hardy that it requires
very little attention in the way of protection in winter. The variety
called Scarlet Trumpet has scarlet and orange flowers. _Halleana_ has
almost evergreen foliage and cream-white flowers of most delightful
fragrance. Both can be trained up together with very pleasing effect.
There are other good sorts, but I consider that these two combine all
the best features of the entire list, therefore I would advise the
amateur gardener to concentrate his attention on them instead of
spreading it out over inferior kinds.
Every lover of flowers who sees the hybrid varieties of Clematis in
bloom is sure to want to grow them. They are very beautiful, it is true,
and few plants are more satisfactory when well grown. But--there's the
rub--to grow them well.
The variety known as _Jackmani_, with dark purple-blue flowers, is most
likely to succeed under amateur culture, but of late years it has been
quite unsatisfactory. Plants of it grow well during the early part of
the season, but all at once blight strikes them, and they wither in a
day, as if something had attacked the root, and in a short time they are
dead. This has discouraged the would-be growers of the large-flowered
varieties--for all of them seem to be subject to the same disease. What
this disease is no one seems able to say, and, so far, no remedy for it
has been advanced.
But in Clematis _paniculata_, we have a variety that I consider superior
in every respect to the large-flowered kinds, and to date no one has
reported any trouble with it. It is of strong and healthy growth, and
rampant in its habit, thus making it useful where the large-flowered
kinds have proved defective, as none of them are of what may be called
free growth. They grow to a height of seven or eight feet--sometimes
ten,--but have few branches, and sparse foliage. _Paniculata_, on the
contrary, makes a very vigorous growth--often twenty feet in a
season--and its foliage, unlike that of the other varieties, is
attractive enough in itself to make the plant well worth growing. It is
a rich, glossy green, and so freely produced that it furnishes a dense
shade. Late in the season, after most other plants are in "the sere and
yellow leaf" it is literally covered with great panicles of starry white
flowers which have a delightful fragrance. While this variety lacks the
rich color of such varieties as _Jackmani_ and others of the hybrid
class, it is really far more beautiful. Indeed, I know of no flowering
vine that can equal it in this respect. Its late-flowering habit adds
greatly to its value. It is not only healthy, but hardy--a quality no
one can afford to overlook when planting vines about the house. Like
Clematis _flammula_, a summer-blooming relative of great value both for
its beauty and because it is a native, it is likely to die pretty nearly
to the ground in winter, but, because of rapid growth, this is not much
of an objection. By the time the flowers of either variety are likely to
come in for a fair share of appreciation, the vines will have grown to
good size.
For the middle and southern sections of the northern states the Wistaria
is a most desirable vine, but at the north it cannot be depended on to
survive the winter in a condition that will enable it to give a
satisfactory crop of flowers. Its roots will live, but most of its
branches will be killed each season.
Ampelopsis _Veitchii_, more commonly known as Boston or Japan Ivy, is a
charming vine to train over brick and stone walls in localities where it
is hardy, because of its dense habit of growth. Its foliage is smaller
than that of the native Ampelopsis, and it is far less rampant in
growth, though a free grower. It will completely cover the walls of a
building with its dark green foliage, every shoot clinging so closely
that a person seeing the plant for the first time would get the idea
that it had been shorn of all its branches except those adhering to the
wall. All its branches attach themselves to the wall-surface, thus
giving an even, uniform effect quite unlike that of other vines which
throw out branches in all directions, regardless of wall or trellis. In
autumn this variety takes on a rich coloring that must be seen to be
fully appreciated.
Our native Celastrus, popularly known as Bittersweet, is a very
desirable vine if it can be given something to twine itself about. It
has neither tendril nor disc, and supports itself by twisting its new
growth about trees over which it clambers, branches--anything that it
can wind about. If no other support is to be found it will twist about
itself in such a manner as to form a great rope of branches. It has
attractive foliage, but the chief beauty of the vine is its clusters of
pendant fruit, which hang to the plant well into winter. This fruit is a
berry of bright crimson, enclosed in an orange shell which cracks open,
in three pieces, and becomes reflexed, thus disclosing the berry within.
As these berries grow in clusters of good size, and are very freely
produced, the effect of a large plant can be imagined. In fall the
foliage turns to a pure gold, and forms a most pleasing background for
the scarlet and orange clusters to display themselves against. The plant
is of extremely rapid growth. It has a habit of spreading rapidly, and
widely, by sending out underground shoots which come to the surface many
feet away from the parent plant. These must be kept mowed down or they
will become a nuisance.
Flower-loving people are often impatient of results, and I am often
asked what annual I would advise one to make use of, for immediate
effect, or while the hardy vines are getting a start. I know of nothing
better, all things considered, than the Morning Glory, of which mention
will be found elsewhere.
The Flowering Bean is a pretty vine for training up about verandas, but
does not grow to a sufficient height to make it of much value elsewhere.
It is fine for covering low trellises or a fence.
The "climbing" Nasturtiums are not really climbers. Rather plants with
such long and slender branches that they must be given some support to
keep them from straggling all over the ground. They are very pleasing
when used to cover fences, low screens, and trellises, or when trained
along the railing of the veranda.
The Kudzu Vine is of wonderful rapidity of growth, and will be found a
good substitute for a hardy vine about piazzas and porches.
Aristolochia, or Dutchman's Pipe, is a hardy vine of more than ordinary
merit. It has large, overlapping leaves that furnish a dense shade, and
very peculiar flowers--more peculiar, in fact, than beautiful.
Bignonia will give satisfaction south of Chicago, in most localities.
Where it stands the winter it is a favorite on account of its great
profusion of orange-scarlet flowers and its pretty, finely-cut foliage.
Farther north it will live on indefinitely, like the Wistaria, but its
branches will nearly always be badly killed in winter.
It is a mistake to make use of strips of cloth in fastening vines to
walls, as so many are in the habit of doing, because the cloth will soon
rot, and when a strong wind comes along, or after a heavy rain, the
vines will be torn from their places, and generally it will be found
impossible to replace them satisfactorily. Cloth and twine may answer
well enough for annual vines, with the exception of the Morning Glory,
but vines of heavy growth should be fastened with strips of leather
passed about the main stalks and nailed to the wall securely. Do not use
a small tack, as the weight of the vines will often tear it loose from
the wood. Do not make the leather so tight that it will interfere with
the circulation of sap in the plant. Allow space for future growth. Some
persons use iron staples, but I would not advise them as they are sure
to chafe the branches they are used to support.
The question is often asked if vines are not harmful to the walls over
which they are trained. I have never found them so. On the contrary, I
have found walls that had been covered with vines for years in a better
state of preservation than walls on which no vines had ever been
trained. The explanation is a simple one: The leaves of the vines act in
the capacity of shingles, and shed rain, thus keeping it from getting to
the walls of the building.
But I would not advise training vines over the roof, unless it is
constructed of slate or some material not injured by dampness, because
the moisture will get below the foliage, where the sun cannot get at it,
and long-continued dampness will soon bring on decay.
On account of the difficulty of getting at them, vines are never pruned
to any great extent, but it would be for the betterment of them if they
were gone over every year, and all the oldest branches cut away, or
thinned out enough to admit of a free circulation of air. If this were
done, the vine would be constantly renewing itself, and most kinds would
be good for a lifetime. It really is not such a difficult undertaking as
most people imagine, for by the use of an ordinary ladder one can get at
most parts of a building, and reach such portions of the vines as need
attention most.
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