![]() |
JRP van Hoey Smith with Quercus pontica |
Last week's Flora Wonder Blog was something of a geography
lesson – at least for the few of you who actually read it – and it discussed
species like Adiantum aleuticum that is native to the Aleutian Islands, and
Quercus pontica which is from an ancient country in Asia Minor which borders
the Black Sea. The Quercus cannot be mentioned without bringing up the late JRP
van Hoey Smith, the King of the Oaks, whose favorite tree in his Arboretum
Trompenburg was Q. pontica. In fact, on the announcement of his passing was
“The Oak Has Fallen.” When I finally go, the announcement will probably be less
grandiose, like “Buchholz Withered Up Like A Dry Maple.”
In any case I pulled my copy of van Hoey Smith's Arboretum
Trompenburg from the shelf, and I cherish his inscription on the title
page:

For
Talon Buchholz
Once
more thanks for Flora Wonder
with
the most sympathetic inscription.
Photo's
this book most mine but
alas
never as good as in your booklet.
Dick
+ Riet van Hoey Smith
Dec.
2001
Then Mayor of Rotterdam wrote the forward for the
Trompenburg book, and I learned that over 50,000 people from Rotterdam visit
the garden every year (2001), but also that “Arboretum Trompenburg is a pearl
to attract visitors from the entire country and the entire world.” You can
count my five visits, and for me it is my favorite tree collection in the world
even though it has rained on every visit. Trompenburg is an intimate garden
where you can experience a great man's obsession, and he penned his
autobiography with every tree in the collection.
![]() |
van Hoey Smith's home |
“In comparison to arboretums [sic] and pineta – particularly
in England – Trompenburg is of modest proportions. Despite the limitations that
this imposes, there are some 3,590 different woody plants...” The Arboretum
Trompenburg will celebrate its 200th anniversary in 2020, and I hope
to add my three cheers to the occasion if I am fortunate enough. For fifty-plus
years the collection was under the
guidance of JRP van Hoey Smith, and in 1939 he received 100 guilders as a
graduation present; he spent the money on trees: Liriodendron tulipifera
'Fastigiatum', Nothofagus antarctica, Picea omorika 'Expansa', Pinus pumila
'Dwarf Blue', Quercus acuta, Quercus dentata, Quercus imbricaria, Quercus
petraea 'Columna', Quercus pontica and Rhododendron przewalskii.
![]() |
Fagus sylvatica 'Dawyck Gold' |
![]() |
Fagus sylvatica 'Dawyck Purple' |


Fagus sylvatica 'Red Obelisk'
The book lists 27 of Trompenburg's “own” plants, and I
suppose the columnar beeches – such as 'Dawyck Gold', 'Dawyck Purple' and 'Red
Obelisk' – are the most horticulturally significant. There is another list of
plants received from elsewhere and named by Trompenburg, and some include Picea
engelmannii 'Snake', Pinus koraiensis 'Silveray', Thuja occidentalis
'Trompenburg' and Acer palmatum 'Trompenburg', and I grow all of the above.
![]() |
Acer palmatum 'Trompenburg' |
The 'Trompenburg' maple has an interesting story, if I have
my facts straight. It was germinated with other seedlings at Trompenburg, but
then it was discovered that the arboretum soil was infected with verticilium
wilt. 'Trompenburg' was still alive when it seemed prudent to send it to the
DeBelders in their Arboretum Kalmthout in Belgium. I'm not sure if
'Trompenburg' was ever sent back to Rotterdam, but in any case the original is
no longer alive. I liked the cultivar early in my career – in fact it was one
of six of my first maples purchased from JD Vertrees – but there isn't much
demand for it anymore. I think its problem is that it doesn't hold its
purple-red color in many climates. I once broached the theory with van Hoey
Smith that 'Trompenburg' was a hybrid with Acer shirasawanum, but he screwed up
his face and emphatically insisted that it was “absolutely not!” I came
up with the notion because its seed rises above the foliage, as evidenced in the photo in his book on page
68, but anyway it received the RHS Award of Garden Merit as a palmatum.
![]() |
Thuja orientalis 'Van Hoey Smith' |
The plant eventually known as Thuja orientalis 'Van Hoey
Smith' was sent by Don Teese of Melbourne, Australia to Trompenburg. Soon
thereafter I received it from Trompenburg without a name, for the name of
'Aurea Compacta' or some other Latin name was not deemed appropriate. I had to
call it something, so temporarily I christened it 'Van Hoey Smith'...and it
entered the trade as such. I didn't really mean for that to happen because
naming plants after people is a dumb idea; but happen it did because at the
time I was apparently under the fervor of capitalism. Later I was attending a
Conifer Society function, with van Hoey Smith in attendance, and the name of
the Thuja came up. He chided “you Americans" for constantly putting new names
on plants as a marketing ploy. I held my head low because I didn't want him to
know that “you Americans” was me.
![]() |
Heptacodium miconioides |
I remember walking past a Heptacodium miconioides at Trompenburg,
and van Hoey Smith admitted that he didn't even know that the tree existed
before he was given one. He relates in the book that it “was not discovered
until after the war, but has now conquered the world.” He continues, “In 1988 I
gave a lecture in Boston, USA. In thanks I was given a rather large plant of
Heptacodium, which I was not too happy about. I did not know the plant and had
to drag that thing home on the airplane. Later I realized what a precious gift
that had been.” Heptacodium is commonly called “Seven-Sons Flower” due to two
rows of three flowers around a central bud – let's see: 3+3+1=7 –
and seven is a lucky number to the Chinese. It is a genus of a single species
which was discovered by EH Wilson, but the seed he collected was not viable.
Eventually it was introduced from seed by the 1980 Sino-American Botanical
Expedition. The word heptacodium comes from Greek for “seven” and codium
for “poppyhead,” and was coined by Alfred Rehder of the Arnold Arboretum. The
specific name was due to its general appearance to the genus Miconia, a
member of the “glory bush” family, Melastomataceae.
![]() |
Calocedrus decurrens 'Berrima Gold' at Arboretum Trompenburg |
![]() |
'Berrima Gold' in the Display Garden |
As with my garden, Trompenburg has changed dramatically over
time. On page 158 is a “view to the south from our home,” and it reveals a
narrow pillar five-to-six feet in height, Calocedrus decurrens 'Berrima Gold'.
The photo above is from my last visit a few years ago, and now I estimate it to
be close to twenty feet tall. In any case it is the tallest I have ever seen,
and at Buchholz Nursery this cultivar is usually a more-squat pyramidal bush.
Our iconic Flora Wonder Blog theme photo shows a young 'Berrima Gold' in our
original Display Garden, but it was dug and sold because it was in the way of
an irrigation pipe. Now I wished I had diverted the pipe and kept the tree.
'Berrima Gold' originated at the Berrima Nursery in New South Wales, Australia,
at a nursery started on a two acre site by Claude and Isobel Crowe in 1943.
With the addition of property across the river, Berrima Bridge Nursery grew to
23 acres. Claude died in 1999 and the nursery closed the following year. I
don't know if we have any other Berrima introductions, except for Acer palmatum
'Berrima Bridge' which is largely a non-event.
![]() |
Abies squamata |

Abies squamata
The first time I had ever seen Abies squamata was at
Trompenburg. The “Flaky-bark fir” was languishing amid other bushes and one had
to wade through the brush to get to the exfoliating trunk. In recent times,
thankfully, the area has been cleared and the trunk limbed up so the Acer
griseum-like bark can be better appreciated. The squamata species is rare in
gardens, but I did recently see seedlings for sale (of Dutch origin) in the
retail sales area at Westonbirt Arboretum in England. I have peddled my share
too, but my propagations are never from seed, but rather by grafting onto
another Abies rootstock. Van Hoey Smith asserts that Abies squamata “is one of
those genuine gems that we are very proud of and that no tour of the arboretum ever skips.” He
received his tree from Hillier in 1966, planted it in 1968, and transplanted it
to the other side of the path in 1982. My oldest Abies squamata grew
beautifully in our Blue Forest, and one year I was treated to a fabulous
display of purple cones; but not so fast, my friend, for the following year it
subsequently died. But at least I have another on the slope of my “Upper
Gardens” where I live, and I pray that it will out-live me. It is rather
surprising that Trompenburg's thriving Abies squamata prospers in its soggy (4m
below sea level) locale, for this Abies species holds the arboreal altitude
record at 4,700 meters (15,419.9475 feet) in a dry region of China on the
border with Tibet. I assume that the Trompenburg specimen is of seedling
origin. Abies squamata was first classified by Maxwell Tylden Masters
(1833-1907), an English botanist and taxonomist. Besides describing Chinese
conifers, Masters was perhaps best known for Vegetable Teratology which
deals with abnormal mutations of vegetable species. Hey, we all have our own
particular areas of interest.
![]() |
Chamaecyparis obtusa on lawsoniana rootstock |
Back to Trompenburg, one receives a horticultural history
lesson, especially when observing the old practice of grafting Chamaecyparis
obtusa cultivars onto the rootstock of Chamaecyparis lawsoniana. Initially it
appears horticulturally sound, but with advanced age the preposterous
ridiculousness reveals itself. Sure, the tops survive, but the base becomes
grotesque. In America we use Thuja occidentalis to graft C. obtusa cultivars,
and the long-term compatibility is not perfect either. Some nurserymen reason
that the typical American home-owner will reside at their current residence for
only five-to-ten years, so selling them a short-term plant is not at all
inappropriate. I'll admit to being guilty of selling an Abies pindrow to a
know-it-all landscaper from Oklahoma who insisted that he had designed and
placed A. pindrow in landscapes before, and that he didn't need to heed my
concerns for the viability of the species in his climate. The problem was that
he was confusing Abies pindrow with Abies pinsapo, the latter a
species from the arid southern regions of Spain, but I allowed the “scraper” to
be smarter than me and took his money after all.
![]() |
Pseudolarix amabilis |

Pseudolarix amabilis
Pseudolarix amabilis should be present in any world-class
arboretum, and of course Trompenburg contains (at least) one. This deciduous
conifer was introduced by Scotsman Robert Fortune from eastern China in 1852.
Fortune's primary purpose in China was to spy for the England's East India
Company, to learn how to grow and process tea plants (Camellia sinensis), and
he even managed to smuggle live plants. If caught he probably would have been
put to death. Fortune collected many new species of plants while on his tea
mission, and successfully transported them back to England in Wardian cases.
The Pseudolarix – or “False Larch” – used to be called Pseudolarix kaempferi
and Chrysolarix amabilis, and it is a deciduous conifer with a broad form. It
differs from the true larches with more long and broad needles, and also with a
different cone structure, which to me somewhat resembles an artichoke. I used
to grow and sell Pseudolarix, but now I'm limited to just one specimen in the
Flora Wonder Arboretum. I discontinued with sales because of very limited
appeal, and I suppose that when potential customers saw larix in the
name, they would imagine a huge tree that looks dead for half a year. Besides
enjoying my one remaining tree for its beauty, I could also copy the Chinese
and use it as a dermalogic antifungal remedy. In traditional Chinese medicine
Pseudolarix is called jin qian song.
![]() |
Arboretum Trompenburg |
![]() |
The feet of Haruko at Trompenburg |
One afternoon van Hoey Smith, Haruko and I were headed to a
certain tree, for I wished to know if I was growing mine under the correct
name. But he paused to stare at the trunk of something else, then he got on his
knees to scramble through the leaves below...in search of the missing label.
“Where did it go,” he muttered. He stood, shook his head and sighed,
“hopeless.” The book states that a “complete inventory of Arboretum Trompenburg
will be published, a list containing all plants including the perennials...It
will become available in a simpler form, since the intention is to reprint it
every year or every other year with all the changes that have meanwhile taken
place.” He realized that his project would consume much time. “It is, however,
all part of the obligation to maintain proper documentation, which is lacking
in so many botanical gardens and therefore renders them less significant.”
![]() |
Chamaecyparis lawsoniana 'Minima Aurea' |
I'm not sure if van Hoey Smith ever went digital with his
photographs, but for the bulk of his career he preferred color slides. He filed
them in fireproof safes, and if a colleague called to ask for a photo of
such-and-such a tree, he could locate it in less than thirty seconds. Thus he
contributed photos for books on maples, conifers, Rhododendrons and probably
other publications that I don't know about. In his final decade he travelled
with one of his daughters, either Joan or Maaike, and they were always prepared
to assist him. We were in my Blue Forest when he ran out of film. He shouted
across the garden, “Joan, Joan! I need film!” Or “Maaike, write that
down.” One time he stumbled upon a Chamaecyparis lawsoniana 'Minima Aurea', and
he demanded to know what I was thinking, for the label read obtusa. I
stuttered for an apology, that it was my most-trusted employee who had spaced
on the species, that indeed it was a lawsoniana. He expressed
relief, then moved on. I was embarrassed and five minutes after he left I went
to change the label.
Whenever van Hoey Smith was in a plant collection, whether
in his, mine or somewhere else, I stayed close to his heels like a puppy dog,
not wanting to miss a thing. It was not unusual for him to gush, “Absolutely
fantastik!” about a floral wonder. However, my favorite time was when I was in
his garden alone, for it really is an enchanting place for me when there are no
distractions. I'm sure that most would consider Beethoven to be more grand and
wonderful than Maurice Ravel, but I'll take Ravel's Piano Trio in A Minor over
Beethoven's 9th Symphony. Tolstoy is more well-known and accomplished
than Turgenev, but I'll take Turgenev's Hunting Sketches over War and
Peace. And so it is with Trompenburg.
![]() |
"Yes Talon, Trompenburg is a special garden that I have blessed for many years. I assure you that it remains in good care with Directeur Gert Fortgens." |
![]() |
Gert Fortgens |
I'm convinced that Acer palmatum 'Trompenburg' is a hybrid as well. My specimen still remains in the upper Midwest after several rough winters that have wiped out most Acer palmatums.
ReplyDelete