Veitch's Conifers

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'North Light'

 

Last week's Flora Wonder Blog discussed “newer” conifer cultivars that I personally recommend, even though I admitted that some were discovered and introduced as long as 40 years ago. I make no excuses about that detail because my customers find them fresh and interesting enough to add to their product line. I'm also aware that many of my customers peddle more common and easy-to-acquire plants as the bread-and-butter of their retail businesses, and that my high-priced plants just provide some spice to their palettes, but that they couldn't stay in business by trying to sell only my stuff. Anyway, my business model has worked for me for the past 41 years, though I was never certain at the beginning, nor certain even today, that I can remain viable indefinitely.

Even after a long history of success with generations of family overseers, the famous Veitch Nursery firm of England eventually called it quits. They were perhaps the most accomplished horticulturists in Europe in their day, and most renowned for sponsoring plant collectors who roamed the entire world in search of new floral treasures. I suppose it was the Great War (1914-1918) that spelled the Veitch's doom, even though at its beginning the English didn't believe that the conflict would amount to much.

We can thank Sue Shepherd for a fascinating account of the Veitch enterprise in her Seeds of Fortune, A Gardening Dynasty. Another source of information can be had with Hortus Veitchii by James H. Veitch, a publication that was produced “For Private Circulation only.” His is a compendium of the company's principle collectors and their introductions, as well as the hybrids that the company developed.

John Veitch

Of particular interest to me is the section in Hortus entitled Coniferous Trees. So while last week's Flora Wonder Blog featured some “newer” conifer cultivars, the Veitch book allows us to hop into the Way-Back Time Machine (published in 1906) and discover what was “new” over a hundred years ago. 49 different species are discussed, and it's amazing that all have a connection to, or introduction by Veitch Nurseries. To introduce a multitude of cultivars – as I have – is an insignificant accomplishment compared to a firm that actually sleuthed the earth and produced scientific discoveries. And keep in mind, these plant seekers were not dispatched at whim by a wealthy and powerful Emperor, but rather by the sale of plants tended to by diligent employees on English grounds. Unsurprisingly the “Dynasty” was begun by a wandering Scotsman, John Veitch (1752-1839) who emigrated to Killerton, near Exeter, England, in 1808.

Picea abies 'Microsperma'

Of the 49 Hortus Veitchii conifer “species,” not all are specific entities that we know today; some are subspecies, varieties, forms or cultivars, and I honestly don't know the taxonomic definitions of these various sub groups. Abies microsperma Lindl., for example, is not a true-fir that we know today, but Veitch lists it and describes, “The specific name microsperma was given by Lindly to a Spruce Fir brought from Hakodate [a seaport town in SE Hokkaido] by the late John Gould Veitch, a weakly plant unsuitable for the climate of the British Isles.” Ah, so a spruce then, not a true fir. How odd, since the Hortus in 1906 already differentiates between fir and spruce with Abies firma, Abies mariesii, and Abies veitchii being consistent with our classification today for various Japanese true-fir, and Picea alcockiana and Picea polita being current specific epithets used both then and now for spruce.

Picea jezoensis

No one knows Abies microsperma today, but there exists a Picea abies 'Microsperma' listed in the RHS Encyclopedia of Conifers, as if it was a cultivar: “A broad conical plant...needles bright green, very densely crowded...Origin unknown, listed by the Royal Gardens, Kew (1896) and cultivated in Glasnevin, Ireland...” No photo accompanies 'Microsperma' because the authors didn't know where to find one. But I don't think the Veitch conifer in question is a Picea abies anyway as that species does not occur in Hokkaido, Japan. I suspect Picea jezoensis may be the 'Microsperma''s parent, but I wonder why that was not included in the 1906 work when J.G. Veitch introduced the “Yezo spruce” as early as 1861, a species native to NE Asia and Japan, according to The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019).

Picea jezoensis

My suspicion that the 'Microsperma' identity is P. jezoensis is because I was gifted Picea jezoensis var. ajanensis by botanist John Silba about 25 years ago. It was a scrappy looking thing with no ornamental value, and I dumped it finally because it was crowding something more important. And guess what? – Hortus lists Picea Ajanensis [sic], Fischer with synonyms Abies ajanensis, Abies microsperma, and Abies alcockiana. Veitch claims “Picea ajanensis introduced in 1861 by the late John Gould Veitch from Japan, was distributed under the name of Abies Alcockiana from the unfortunate circumstance that the seed of both species came home mixed.” Praise is heaped upon P. ajanensis, unlike A. microsperma, for the former is deemed “One of the handsomest species, in May loaded with cones of the brightest crimson.”

I know I risk boring the reader with nomenclatural details, and after research and dancing around with these conifers I confess I still don't have it all clear with certainty. It's fun, though, to read from the experts who espoused over a hundred years ago, back when nobody would dare question a Veitch.

Picea torano (polita)

Picea torano (polita)

Picea torano (polita)

Hortus Veitchii describes Picea polita, Carriere as a synonym for Abies polita, Siebold and Zuccarini, “A native of Japan, found by the late John Gould Veitch in 1861.” It is described, surprisingly, as “Rare in its native isles and only as isolated specimens of a miserable aspect...” Furthermore: “It thrives poorly in the too dry atmosphere of England” – What?!, the too dry atmosphere of England? I thought I would never read, by an Englishman, that olde England possessed a “dry atmosphere.” And what is most strange is that the “pitiful” species is photographically depicted on the following page as a rather regal, formal, upright pyramidal tree just as it appears in the Flora Wonder Arboretum. It is a most wonderfully ornamental tree. Veitch continues, “The specific name polita, 'polished or adorned' was selected in reference to the lustrous smoothness of the leaf and leaf-bud.” I grew the conifer as P. polita for most of my career, but then I learned that the precedent epithet was not polita*, but rather torano, at least according to The Hillier Manual. Torano is derived from toran wo which means “tiger's tail” in Japanese – not that it resembles one – but because the needles are viciously sharp. Hillier posits that P. torano is “A distinct species, easily recognized by its stout, prickly leaves which are more difficult to handle than any other species [of Picea, duh].” Apparently no one at Hillier has handled the blood-drawing Picea chihuahuana from northwest Mexico, a species, along with Picea morrisonicola (from Taiwan), that is the southernmost spruce in the world...and for some reason Hillier doesn't even list P. chihuahuana. English wimps, I should think.

*Hillier's 5^th edition (1981) lists polita, the 7^th (2014) lists torano.

Pinus parviflora

The Japanese white pine, Pinus parviflora (meaning “small flower”) was first described by Siebold and Zuccarini in 1842, but it was John Gould Veitch who introduced it to British gardens in 1861. Hortus Veitchii notes: “Cultivated everywhere in pots throughout Japan, dwarfed and distorted in every way, trained to every conceivable monstrosity, this pine when in the forest groves is a light and graceful object.” I guess old Veitch was not an admirer of bonsai. The same John Gould Veitch discovered the closely allied Pinus pentaphylla and his seed was supplemented by Charles Maries in 1879, however all of them were distributed as Pinus parviflora. I have grown cultivars of both species, but without ID labels I can't tell one species from the other. I'll admit to a little satisfaction to know that the Veitch firm experienced plant mix-ups, just like at Buchholz Nursery.

Araucaria araucana

Araucaria araucana

Don't for a second assume that all of the Veitch introductions were from Japan, because the conifers (alone) range from China and Far East Asia to North and South America. Araucaria araucana, the “Monkey Puzzle tree,” has been variously known as Pinus araucana, Dombeya chilensis, Columbea quadrifaria, Abies araucana, Araucaria chilensis, Araucaria imbricata and more...plus common names such as Pino Araucana, Pino Chileno, and Pinonero. The tree was discovered by a Westerner in 1780, by Don Francisco Dendariarena, and later by Doctors Ruiz and Pavon who sent the first dried specimen to Europe, “to a Frenchman, Dombey, after whom it was named.” Thank God the Dombeya name didn't stick, and I like that the specific epithet honors the Araucana natives who lived amongst the trees and who subsisted on its pine nuts. Veitch relays that “In 1795 Captain Vancouver reached the coast of Chili [sic] and with him the botanist Archibald Menzies. Menzies procured cones seed and young plants which he succeeded in bringing alive to Europe.” Menzies gave the seed to Sir Joseph Banks, and who wouldn't have? “One [tree] lived in an unhealthy condition [at Royal Gardens, Kew]” and then in the autumn of 1892 “it incontinently died.” I'm amused that it expired “incontinently,” that is, without moral restraint, or without due or reasonable consideration, as I have also experienced my share of immoral deaths.

Juan Ignacio Molina

Author James H. Veitch goes with the specific epithet Aruacaria imbricata in his 1906 tome, but we now accept botanist Molina's description of A. araucana, and that now Araucaria araucana's name takes precedence. Juan Ignacio Molina (1740-1829) was a bonafide polymath, a naturalist, botanist, ornithologist and linguist. Surprisingly for a Jesuit priest – and who know how many native souls were voluntarily converted? – Molina believed in the unholy notion that species gradually evolved, and to some extent he preceded Darwin by four decades. To his credit, Darwin quoted Molina in The Origin of Species. As early as 1787 Molina hypothesized that South America was populated from south Asia, while North America could have been populated from Siberia.

Araucaria imbricata

Accompanying Veitch's description of Araucaria imbricata – so-named due to overlapping branch scales – is a wonderful black-and-white photograph of a grove of four Monkey Puzzles which appear to be about 30' tall. The caption gives the location of Strete Ralegh, Devon. The connection between the tree's commonality in England and Veitch Nurseries is explained: “For many years after Menzies' introduction of A. imbricata the conifer remained scarce till William Lobb (a Veitch collector] sent a large supply of seed in 1844, and the tree became generally planted; to this consignment many of the oldest specimens in this country are traceable.”

Sequoiadendron giganteum

Sequoiadendron giganteum

A similar story exists for the “Giant redwood,” Sequoiadendron giganteum, known to Veitch as Sequoia Gigantea: “This, the Wellingtonia, or Mamouth Tree, giant in the forest primeval, the largest of all coniferous subjects, unsurpassed by any of any other Natural Order...was probably first discovered by John Bidwill in 1841, but nothing definitely known till in 1852 it was again met with by the hunter Dowd. First introduced to Europe through William Lobb, who sent seed and a living specimen to Exeter in 1853.”

Sequoiadendron giganteum

Miwok People

Strix occidentalis

Wow – “unsurpassed by any of any...”, writes Veitch. John Muir was equally eloquent: “Do behold the King in his glory, King Sequoia! Behold! Behold! seems all I can say.” But then Muir goes on to say quite a bit more. Veitch is not quite accurate to say that John Bidwill saw the trees in 1841; it is John Bidwell and the year was probably 1844. Since the event wasn't recorded until later, Veitch makes no mention of explorers Zenas Leonard and Joseph Walker who almost certainly saw the giants in 1833. Also, two years before their “official” discovery, a John M. Wooster carved his initials in the bark of a tree in the Calaveras North Grove, the location of my first encounter with a native stand of Sequoiadendron. Native Americans knew of the trees long before, of course, with at least three different names being employed. My favorite is the Miwok tribe who used the term “Wawona,” but it's not certain if it was used for the “big tree” or the “hoot of the spotted owl (Strix occidentalis),” a bird considered the trees' spiritual guardian. I think the perfect name for Sequoiadendron would have been Wawona giganteum.

Tsuga diversifolia

Tsuga sieboldii

The last conifer that I'll discuss in the Hortus Veitchii is Tsuga diversifolia (Northern Japanese hemlock). It was another John Gould Veitch discovery, and we read: “Raised from cones from Japan...in 1861, unfortunately mixed with those of Tsuga Sieboldii (Southern Japanese hemlock), and both species were cultivated under the names of Abies Tsuga and A.T. nana. The introducer [of T. diversifolia], unknown to himself, was the discoverer.”

Brittle and broken labels at Buchholz Nursery

It was no simple task to send out collectors into the wild, as Veitch Nurseries was so famous to do, but then to process the incoming booty. The above-mentioned Tsuga mix-up is an example of what can, and all too often does occur. Buchholz Nursery has been blessed to received seed, scion and new plants from a network of plant enthusiasts, but unfortunately I am the only employee of my company who really seems to care. The rank and file have no clue as to the origin of these plants and neither do they get the importance of plant identity. Labels, labels...labels all over the place – the employees endure my constant harping about them – but they don't give much thought about their purpose. As the late JRP van hoey Smith said (in so many words): “A garden without correct nomenclature is not valid.” My employees are here primarily for a paycheck, not to assist me to create a “valid” garden; it has been my career's cross to bear.

One readily understands why Hortus Veitchii was “For Private Circulation Only.” It is presented in outline form without much narrative flow. The plantsmen and the plants themselves read like encyclopedic entries, short and concise. Just as well, especially since Sue Shepherd's biography, with her 100 years of perspective, is the more pleasurable read. If the reader wishes to acquire an original manuscript of Hortus Veitchii, good luck to find one of the “Not for Circulation” copies, Yet, reprints exist. I must forewarn you that Hortus Veitchii from the Cambridge Library Collection is the edition to be avoided. It is a paperback rendition with poor photo reproduction, and the text is often printed crooked.

Sir Harry Veitch

Caradoc Doy with HM the Queen at the Veitch Centennial

The copy to attain is a hard-cover limited edition – I have # 511/1000 – produced by Caradoc Doy in 2006 to celebrate the hundredth anniversary of the original publication. Mr. Doy is a freelance horticulturist who gives illustrated gardening talks. A promotional states: “Caradoc was featured on BBC TV in 2012 when he helped stage an exhibit at the Chelsea Flower Show for the plant conservation charity Plant Heritage in tribute to Sir Harry Veitch. The exhibit won a Silver Gilt Medal and was visited by the Queen herself.”