Friday, February 18, 2022

Botanists of Yore: Ghosts in the Garden

Georg Kamel


Hosta sieboldiana


There are numerous people – well...characters – whom I've never directly met, yet they haunt (usually pleasantly) my Flora Wonder Arboretum. Sometimes they appear in generic plant names such as Hosta, coined for the Austrian physician Nicholas Thomas Host (1761-1834), or with Camellia named for the Jesuit botanist Father Georg Joseph Kamel (1661-1706), where the word camellia translates to “helper of the priest.” Kamel was known to practice botany for pharmaceutical purposed in the 1600s. Then, there are plenty of specific epithets that help praise the earth's flora and its chroniclers such as sieboldii, forrestii, wardii, delavayi etc., named for those plant pioneers who discovered or helped to systematize the trees and bushes that we take for granted today.

The general public would probably consider the names above as inconsequential, but the earnest gardener celebrates the human achievements in botany and horticulture. For you latter, come with me, then, into my Flora Wonder Arboretum where we'll acknowledge the luminaries* of the past and celebrate their contributions to horticulture.


Linnaea borealis


*Sadly, the greatest botanic documentarian of all time, Carl von Linne, (Carolus Linnaeus in Latin), is not represented today by any plant in my collection, except that I used to grow Linnaea borealis, a circumboreal groundcover in the honeysuckle (Caprifoliaceae) family, but thirty years ago a misguided Buchholz employee killed it with herbicide, considering it a mere weed.


Tsuga mertensiana 'Bump's Blue'


Tsuga mertensiana 'Bump's Blue'


A favorite conifer of mine, which I discussed in last week's blog, is Tsuga mertensiana. The “Mountain hemlock” name honours Karl Heinrich Mertens (1796-1830), a German botanist and naturalist who explored the coasts of Russian America and Asia. Scientifically, German and Russian nationalities were once seemingly interchangeable, and today we try to figure out whom was working for whom. It ultimately came down to who sponsored the particular expedition, and I suppose to what purpose. In any case, the Mertens voyage included the ornithologist Kittlitz and the mineralogist Postels, and together they collected and described over a thousand new species of animal life, and two-and-a-half thousand specimens of plants, algae and rocks. After the American expedition Mertens sailed to Iceland but died two weeks later at age 34.


Picea smithiana


Picea smithiana 'Pakistan'


Sir James Edward Smith


Picea smithiana is the “West Himalayan spruce” and when young-to-medium age it is a graceful evergreen with drooping branchlets. It grows at altitudes between 7800-11800' (2400m - 3600m) together with other lax, soft-looking conifers such as Cedrus deodara, Pinus wallichiana and Abies pindrow. It is also known as “Morinda spruce,” where morinda means “nectar,” referring to the resin drops often beading on the cones. The species is listed as hardy to USDA zone 7 (0F-10F), so as an ornamental we found a limited market for it; however a sizable specimen exists at the US National Arboretum in Washington DC. We grew P. smithiana for a dozen years or so, but discontinued due to an insect pest that would lay eggs in the leader and the ensuing grubs would kill the top. My remaining specimens consist of one compact form that developed as a witch's broom – with the unfortunate name of 'Himalaya Hexe' – and a full-sized tree at Flora Farm which broods in the Upper Gardens. The species was described by Nathaniel Wallich in 1884, but we don't positively know who was the honoree; two choices include 1) James Edward Smith, the founding president of the Linnean Society and 2)a Mr. Smith, a Scottish gardener who raised the first trees from seed sent to him in 1818. But maybe it was Wallich's intention to kill two birds with one cone.


Pinus wallichiana


Pinus wallichiana 'Solburger'


Pinus bhutanica


Pinus bhutanica


And speaking of Nathaniel Wallich, he is honoured with the name of the Himalayan pine (“Blue pine”) P. wallichiana which occurs in the same general region as Picea smithiana. In its eastern range it grows into Bhutan, and I have seen it there at 5000-8000' elevation. In that locale it is known as the “Bhutan pine,” but should not be confused with the more tender P. bhutanica. P. wallichiana usually displays an open, airy canopy, but branchlets are clad with long, glimmering needles in fascicles of five. For me there was no market for the straight species, but I've never had trouble selling the variegated cultivars of 'Zebrina' and 'Frosty' – but be damn careful you don't mix up those two selections. The supposed cultivar 'Nana' is smaller in all respects, and with its much-shorter needles I wonder if it's a possible cross with Pinus strobus. I also used to peddle a particular clone, not really a cultivar, from the Otto Solburger collection that I identified as P.w. 'Solburger'.


Dryopteris wallichiana


Dryopteris wallichiana


Lilium wallichianum


Nathaniel Wallich


Nathaniel Wallich (1786-1854) was a Danish surgeon and botanist who was stationed near Calcutta, and who eventually worked for the Danish East India Company and the British East India Company. He was in the right place (albeit in the hell-hole of Calcutta) at the right time to describe new species and accumulate a herbarium collection. He was appointed assistant to William Roxburgh, the East India Company's botanist. Wallich supervised the development of the Royal Botanical Garden, Calcutta, and on one hot muggy afternoon I explored those grounds when I was in my 20s. Wallich deserves a lot of credit, for while enduring the unhealthy Bengal atmosphere, he nevertheless prepared a catalog of more than 20,000 specimens, all collected by himself, or from others at the same time like Roxburgh, Griffith and Wight. Now known as the Wallich Collection, it is housed at the Kew Herbarium in London. There are dozens of species named for Wallich such as Schima wallichii (argentea), Dryopteris wallichiana, Sarcococca wallichii, Euphorbia wallichii, Lilium wallichianum, and many others besides the pine, so I frequently bump into the botanist of yore as I wander through the Flora Wonder Arboretum.


Pinus roxburghii


William Roxburgh


William Roxburgh (1751-1815) preceded Wallich in India, and the Scottish surgeon/botanist is considered the Father of Indian botany, in particular economic botany. In addition to the numerous species that he named, many were named in his honour by his peers, but the only one I have ever grown is Pinus roxburghii, the “Chir pine.” The long silver-green needles are borne in fascicles of three, while the trunk is a thick red-brown and deeply fissured. Its range is northern Pakistan, east throughout the Himalayan foothills...all the way to eastern Bhutan, a distance of over 1500 miles (2400km). Interestingly, P. roxburghii is closely related to the Canary Island Pine (P. canariensis) which occurs off the coast of Africa. According to Rushforth in Conifers: “Fossils indicate that the two species once formed a single population stretching from the Canary Isles across southern Europe to the Himalayas.”


Acer shirasawanum


A “Japanese maple” collection can contain many species, but usually three take precedence: Acer palmatum, A. japonicum and A. shirasawanum. Certainly from a commercial perspective, those three consist of 95% of our sales, with other species such as A. pycnanthum, A. micranthum, A. miyabei, A. nipponcium and many others relegated to “obscure” status. Of the big three, A. palmatum is produced in greatest numbers with A. shirasawanum being number two. Fortunately both species are graft-compatible, except that some propagators (like the late J.D. Vertrees) consider A. shirasawanum to be the more difficult. My experience is not that case, as long as one begins with a sharp knife, employs a good grafter and obtains healthy one-year scions. I will concede that growing-on the A. shirasawanum cultivars is more of a challenge than with most palmatum selections, as the former is usually more bush-like versus tree-like palmatums. A. shirasawanum branches zig-zag sideways and none seem to volunteer to form a leader. Staking the hell out of them is how most growers deal with the situation, but at Buchholz Nursery we prune vigorously, again and again as necessary, and eventually we can achieve a nicely-shaped tree. Our customers are happy with the product because the pruning usually leads to a heavier trunk caliper than those provided by our stake-whip competitors.


Acer shirasawanum 'JB-F'


I admit that when I began my nursery 42 years ago I couldn't pronounce shirasaswanum, and indeed some of my current customers struggle with the name. Furthermore I didn't even know what it meant; palmatum was obviously “palm-like” and japonicum was “from Japan;” but I didn't know if shirasawanum was a place name or a description for some botanical feature, or just what. A few years later I collected a Picea shirasawae, a species not recognized by The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019), but is described in Rushforth's Conifers (1987) where it is considered “very rare on Mount Yatsuga-dake in Honshu Province...It may be a stabilized hybrid between Alcock [Picea bicolor] and Koyama [Picea koyamae] spruce. Zone 6.”


Homi Shirasawa


I later discovered that the Acer shirasawanum maple as well as the Picea shirasawae spruce were named in honour of Japanese botanist Homi Shirasawa (1868-1947) who worked with the famous Tomitaro Makino, the “Father of Japanese Botany,” at the University of Tokyo. Unlike for Makino, scant information is available for Shirasawa, and I'm somewhat confused because his first name is also known as Miho and also Yasuyoshi, but I presume that we're talking about the same botanist.


Tomitaro Makino


Rhododendron makinoi


Rhododendron makinoi


Rhododendron makinoi


Rhododendron makinoi


It's obvious that Shirasawa toiled in the shadow of Makino (1862-1957), for not only is the latter known as the “Father of Japanese Botany,” but his country also celebrates Botany Day, an event that honours his April 24th birthday. Makino was fascinated with plants at an early age, and as an adult he loved to collect specimens. Until he was bedridden before death, he would collect in the countryside, and his personal herbarium contained about 400,000 plants. In 1936 he published the Makino Book of Botany where 6,000 species are described, 1,000 of which he discovered. Using the Linnaean system of classification he published again, his Makino's Illustrated Flora of Japan (1940), an encyclopedic text that my wife used for her degree in Landscape Architecture. Before I even met Haruko I already was growing Rhododendron makinoi, a species I love for its long narrow leaves which reminds me of the Chinese Rhododendron roxieanum.


Polystichum makinoi


Another choice Makino plant is the fern Polystichum makinoi, “Makino's holly fern.” Sue Olsen in her Encyclopedia of Garden Ferns describes its “forest-green, luminescent blades,” and they certainly do shine in the shade garden. Olsen adds that the species grows in “humus-rich duff in the forests of Japan, China, Taiwan and the Himalayas,” and with such a range one wonders why it wasn't named earlier.


Rhododendron 'Yaku Fairy'


Rhododendron 'Yaku Fairy'


Keisuke Ito


Rhododendron cultivars are often – too often – named for people, so we're stuck with groaner names such as 'Dear Grandad', 'Creeping Jenny', 'Cutie', 'Dopey', 'Faggetter's Favourite', 'Swamp Beauty', 'Mrs. W.C. Slocock', 'Woodcock', 'Wee Bee' and many others. 'Wee Bee' is R. campylogynum 'Patricia' x R. keiskei 'Yaku Fairy', and while I've never grown the cross, R. keiskei 'Yaku Fairy' has long been on the Buchholz Ark. The keiskei epithet honours Keisuke Ito (1803-1901), another Japanese botanist. Besides botany, or in conjunction with botany, he was a medical practitioner and biologist, best known for developing a smallpox vaccine in 1852. He was initially known as Gofuku-cho, and maybe he changed his name to avoid endless ribbing (gofuku you). At age 25 he travelled to Nagasaki to study Western science under the famous botanist and physician Philipp von Siebold. At age 27 Keisuke Ito published his first book, Tasai Bonzou Meiso, a survey of plant names and their Japanese and Chinese translations. I can relate to him as our interests coincide, except that he was blessed with brains while I was limited to just a strong back.


Rhododendron augustinii


Rhododendron augustinii 'Smoke'


I can understand plant epithets that honour the last name of the discoverer or the botanist. Thus we have Picea wilsonii and Acer henryi, with the former referring to Ernest Wilson and the latter for Augustine Henry. It seems excessive, however, if the individual's first name is used specifically, such as Abies ernestii (now A. recurvata var. ernestii), named in honour of Ernest Wilson, or for Rhododendron augustinii which rewards Augustine Henry. I have grown all four – Picea wilsonii, Abies ernestii, Acer henryi and Rhododendron augustinii, with the Rhododendron being my favorite. Hillier celebrates the species: “A large, small-leaved shrub with blue flowers in April and May. In its best forms, this beautiful Chinese species is one of the finest of all rhododendrons...The name commemorates Augustine Henry who first found it. China (Hubei, E. Sichuan). Introduced 1899 by Farges.”


Paul Guillaume Farges


...Hmm, “introduced by Farges.” Father Paul Guillaume Farges (1844-1912) was a French Catholic missionary and plant collector, and I grow a fair number of fargesii specific epithets, but I'll spare the reader further verbiage. The point of the blog is that I can reminisce about numerous plantsmen and botanists as I wander through my gardens. For me their spirits lurk in the bushes, and not just in my botanic garden and nursery, but I also encounter the ghosts of yore as I drive through my home-town of Forest Grove, Oregon, or anywhere else for that matter. Horticulture must be a dreadful occupation for those unable or unwilling to enliven the endeavor with knowledge about plant names. As with people, every plant has a story...


Abies fargesii x homolepis


Arisaema fargesii


Carpinus fargesii


Catalpa fargesii


Decaisnea fargesii


Epimedium fargesii


Fargesia robusta


Ilex fargesii


Paulownia fargesii


Salix fargesii


Thursday, February 10, 2022

Conifers, The Illustrated Encyclopedia

 


I've mentioned in the past that I house a library of plant books in the coffee room just outside of the main nursery office. I used to encourage my employees to avail themselves of the knowledge, as I thought that was an enlightened approach to advancing their careers. Ha – I was rong! – very few cared. Those who did take books home were liable to forget, and I was constantly pestering for their return. I regret losing some, such as the JD Vertrees 1st edition of Japanese Maples which was signed by the author. I don't lend books anymore as I've grown into a bitter old man, and I've instructed my wife to dig an extra large grave when I pass, and dump all the books in with me.




Yesterday I pulled Conifers (1986) by DM van Gelderen and JRP van Hoey Smith from the shelf, which was signed by the latter. Paging through the photographic encyclopedia brought back memories of plants I used to grow as well as others still in production. Ten years later (in 1996) the authors doubled their effort and a two-volume set was published, and Timber Press from Portland, Oregon brags that “This book is the most complete collection of photographs – 2347 strong – of conifers ever assembled,”* and suggest that “It may also be used in conjunction with the detailed text descriptions in Gerd Krussmann's Manual of Cultivated Conifers,” one of the driest, most boring plant reference books ever (1985-translated-to-English edition).

*Hmm... “the most complete collection of photographs of conifers ever assembled.” I suspect that it has been more recently surpassed with newer publications, and even perhaps by the Buchholz Nursery photo library.


Mr. van Hoey Smith


The two-volume Conifers (1996) lists 190 photograph locations, and my nursery – with Buchholz thankfully spelled correct – is number 34 in alphabetical order. Hats off to the late van Hoey Smith for his world-wide photo collection, all of which were captured with color slides and kept in his well-organized files. vHS had no interest in going digital, and with his slides he bragged that he could locate any individual photo in a matter of seconds.


Picea sitchensis 'Sugarloaf'


Of the 15 photos from the Buchholz grounds, only three plants are currently in production: Juniperus scopulorum 'Tolleson's Blue Weeping', Chamaecyparis (Xanthocyparis) nootkatensis 'Green Arrow' and Picea sitchensis 'Sugar Loaf' [sic], the latter described as “A dwarf form with twisted new shoots.” The book's photo is mediocre at best, but it is the same plant as my mediocre photo depicted above, some 27 years later. We dug the tree last week as it was crowding another conifer, Sequoiadendron giganteum 'Little Stan', which I valued more. The 'Sugarloaf' [correct name - one word] had grown to 4' tall by 7' wide, and was gifted to me early on by its discoverer, the late Bill Janssen of Washington state. It originated as a seedling on Sugarloaf Mountain in Oregon, a 1575' (480m) summit that was once proposed (in 1942) for an aircraft warning station against a Japanese invasion. Fortunately that didn't happen, especially since any visibility from the top is hampered most of the time by coastal fog.


Thuja orientalis 'Locogreen'


Another entry in the book (on page 652) is the Buchholz introduction of Thuja (Platycladus) orientalis 'Locogreen'. Unfortunately it is misidentified as named 'Lisa', but it was never so-designated. When visiting one summer vHS noticed it in the garden. A plastic label was at the base of the tree with the “Lisa” name and rooting hormone rate, but that name referred to the propagator while the metal label on the other side correctly said 'Locogreen'. It is described as “A dense cylindrical plant,” but strangely, “with greenish yellow foliage, turning yellow in spring.” Actually the foliage is dark green, per vHS's photo in summer, but with light green new growth in spring. 'Locogreen' looks similar to the old Euro cultivar 'Athrotaxoides', or so thought vHS, while the latter is said to be "Difficult to propagate and hence rare.” Locogreen' is rather easy to propagate, at least for me, but the “difficult” suggestion rings true when this grower attempted to sell his propagules.


Thuja orientalis 'Locogold'


Thuja orientalis 'Locogold'


A twig mutation developed on T.o. 'Locogreen' which was bright yellow in color and I predicted it would be a cheerful, worthy cultivar. It too struck easily from rooted cuttings, but unfortunately it looks rather drab when grown in full sun. Nothing is worse than a conifer that is only “sort of gold,” and while a couple are planted in the collection, we no longer have it in production. The 'Locogreen'/'Locogold' tree in the photo above is no longer with me either, as it flopped apart in a snow storm and I dumped it...so if anything remains of the selection, you have the green version, not me. To conclude: 'Locogreen' is gone, 'Locogold' is no good', and 'Lisa' – also my ex-wife's name – is invalid...thanks for the memories.


Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Skyline'


A row of Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Skyline' is pictured on page 590, and is described: “This form has an extremely open habit, like that of Picea abies 'Viminalis'.” It has always been one of my favorite of conifer cultivars, which was discovered as a seedling on Skyline Blvd. on the West Hills of Portland, Oregon. I never saw the original tree, but my start came from the late Otto Solburger, from his world-class collection of conifers which the hillbilly assembled as a Christmas tree grower, located just one-half hour from my nursery. I never met Mr. S. either, but his wife was very kind, and my interest in propagating from her husband's “pines” warmed the old lady's heart. From his collection I promulgated Abies pindrow, Abies cilicica, Pinus gerardiana, Cupressus bakeri and many other seldom-encountered species. Though Otto was a slightly-educated Oregon rustic, he nevertheless developed contacts from around the world when it came to conifer species...then this young Buchholz later swooped in for the commercial harvest.


Sequoiadendron giganteum in Verboort, OR


Talon with Mr. and Mrs. van Hoey Smith in front of Sequoiadendron giganteum


One regret is that we never found the time for vHS to visit the Solburger farm...which he surely would have relished, but I fondly remember escorting him and wife Riet to Verboort, Oregon's early planting of Sequoiadendron giganteum in a Dutch community of ardent-Catholic settlers, where a grove of giant redwoods are among the oldest/largest in the world outside of their native range. I even slipped my arm around Mrs. v H.S. for the photo, and her husband never noticed – or cared – because he was then enthralled with the “Big Trees,” the “Giants of Verboort,” a group of seedlings planted by the pioneer nurseryman John Porter who collected the saplings from California. Porter originally ventured south to the “Golden state” to acquire instant wealth during the “Rush,” but had to settle for a bag of redwood seedlings instead.

Pinus densiflora


Pinus densiflora


Pinus funebris


I discovered Pinus funebris on page 463, and yes the photo location is at Buchholz Nursery. I don't have it in the collection anymore, and I can't explain why I didn't keep at least one around, other than the reality that no one would buy the species. Certainly P. funebris is winter-hardy as it comes from North Korea, Russia and northeastern China. Conifers states that “This rare species is closely related to P. densiflora,” and I may have seen it at a Beijing temple, but assumed at the time that the specimens there were of the latter species. The specific epithet funebris suggests a funereal association, and we also used to grow the “Mourning” cypress, AKA the “Chinese Weeping” cypress, Cupressus funebris, which is also found near graveyard temples. But honestly, if I had not seen it this week in Conifers, I would have completely forgotten that I ever grew Pinus funebris.


Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Compacta'


Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Compacta'


A tidy specimen of Pseudotsuga menziesii 'Compacta' occurs on page 583, and vHS photographed it at least 25 years ago. A mound-planting of Juniperus squamata 'Blue Star' can be seen in the background which helps me date the picture. It is in the middle of the original Display Garden and I can see it from my office window. I have fun leading visitors into the garden and asking, “Which tree do you suppose is the oldest?” All heads immediately tilt upward and some speculate that it must be the behemoth specimen of Pinus flexilis 'Vanderwolf's Pyramid', but nope, the pine is only about 35 year old. No, it's not the huge Acer palmatum 'Sango kaku', that's about 48 years old. Then I announce that it's the 'Compacta' Douglas fir, at least 60 years of age. Everyone expresses surprise that it's the nondescript conifer that we are standing next to, as they were probably expecting the oldest to be something more spectacular. I purchased the tree from the Chehalis Rare Plant Nursery about 40 years ago, so I'm only guessing at its current age. That nursery no longer exists, just as mine some day will also not. In Krussmann's Manual of Cultivated Conifers it is listed as 'Compacta Glauca', which describes the needles as “short and blue-green,” and was “developed near Hamburg, W. Germany by Ansorge before 1902.” vHS pointed out the location of the Ansorge Nursery as we drove by on a Conifer Society tour in 2000, but it existed no longer either. And too, the designation of “W. Germany” is now obsolete, but back when Krussmann's tome was published (1985) – really not that long ago – we Americans (and most Germans) never would have supposed that “West” and “East” would soon merge into just “One” Germany.


Tsuga mertensiana 'Blue Star'


None of my Tsuga mertensiana specimens or cultivars were depicted in Conifers, nevertheless a nice photo of T.m. 'Blue Star' is on page 690. I have seen the very same specimen myself at the von Gimborn Arboretum, Holland, and via a circuitous rout starts of that particular tree are in production at Buchholz Nursery, albeit on a very limited scale. The “Mountain hemlocks” are agonizingly slow in growth, and quality scionwood is usually limited. If the propagator chooses to root the cultivar, that can be accomplished, but in my experience that makes it even more slow-growing, plus the propagules tend to grow horizontally, and the grower is exasperated that it can take 8-10 years of constant staking to achieve a strong leader and a conical shape. Conifers states that 'Blue Star' is: “A splendid, slender small tree with almost blue needles. Very difficult to propagate.” Again, only difficult if one lacks good scionwood, otherwise as successful as any Picea or Abies. The authors don't mention the origin of 'Blue Star', but Hillier in The Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019) credits the Dutch firm of L. Konijn in 1965. Konijn also introduced Larix kaempferi 'Blue Rabbit'; because the company's name, Konijn, translates as “rabbit.” One gripe about T.m. 'Blue Star' is that the cultivar name was used previously for the popular Juniperus squamata 'Blue Star', with the latter introduced by another Dutch Nursery as a witch's broom on J.s. 'Meyeri', discovered by at least 1950 and finally introduced in 1964...but maybe in the 1960s Dutch nurseries couldn't keep up with each others' names.


Tsuga mertensiana


Tsuga mertensiana


Tsuga mertensiana


One wonders if Tsuga mertensiana truly belongs in the Tsuga genus, because to this non-botanist it seems so different from western USA's T. heterophylla and eastern USA's T. canadensis; and furthermore the various Chinese species, such as T. yunnanensis, resemble the above two American species. But then the two Japanese species, T. diversifolia and T. sieboldii look very different from the aforementioned American species as well. I don't know the botanical details, but I have spent a career handling all of the above during propagation. The botanist certainly notices – while the propagator/grower may not – that T. mertensiana differs from the other hemlock species in having stomata on the upper surface, along with needles arranged spirally around the shoot.


Tsuga mertensiana


Tsuga heterophylla


Tsuga heterophylla


With the above in mind, the Tsuga mertensiana range in western USA is similar to T. heterophylla, except that the former extends further east and usually at higher elevation; nevertheless I can show you where the two literally touch each other on the flanks of Mt. Hood, Oregon. Imagine then, my interest in a supposed hybrid of the two, x jeffreyi. In Swartley's The Cultivated Hemlocks, the proposed hybrid is T. heterophylla x T. mertensiana, but if the cross truly exists, how would anybody know whom is pollinating whom? The jeffreyi epithet honors the Scottish plant explorer and botanist John Jeffrey (1826-1854) who apparently perished without a trace at age 28 while travelling from San Diego across the Colorado Desert. Jeffrey started out as a gardener at Edinburgh's Royal Botanic Garden, then was appointed by a Scottish group known as the Oregon Association to collect plant material in western North America. Since he sent his loot back to Edinburgh, he was honored with the x jeffreyi name, as well as Pinus jeffreyi and Dodecatheon jeffreyi.

Mount Rainier in Washington State




Mount Baker located in northern Washington State


Swartley's The Cultivated Hemlocks provides an interesting account of the Tsuga x jeffreyi origin:

Formerly regarded as a variety of T. mertensiana, now regarded [1984] as a hybrid between T. mertensiana and T. heterophylla. If this be so, the second parent shows remarkably little in the hybrid. A tree with a curious and doubtful history in cultivation. It was first noticed in Edinburgh RBG from seed sown in 1851 deriving from near Mount Baker in British Columbia [actually Mount Baker exists in Washington state, not British Columbia, Canada]...It was thus unknown in the wild yet occurred three times in the British Isles. In 1967 or 1968 however, Mr. J. Duffield found a hybrid swarm of this parentage growing on the east side of White Pass, south of Mount Rainier, Washington.”


Tsuga x jeffreyi


I would like to search for the White Pass swarm, but I'm not sure if I could distinguish it from pure T. mertensiana. The only specimen I have seen is at the von Gimborn Arboretum, where the tree was rather crowded with other conifers, so all I could do was record a lower, mertensiana-looking branch. In Conifers vHS has photographed the full tree and also a branch closeup from the same-and-only tree I have seen. In spite of Swartley's speculations of hybridity, Hillier and others now consider there to be three taxa, two subspecies and a minor variety of T. mertensiana: 1) T. mertensiana subsp. mertensiana, 2) T. mertensiana subsp. grandicona and 3) T. mertensiana var. jeffreyi.


D.M. van Gelderen (left) and J.R.P. van Hoey Smith (right)


I have met both authors of Conifers, The Illustrated Encyclopedia, where supposedly D.M. van Gelderen of Firma Esveld in Boskoop provided the text and van Hoey Smith supplied the photographs. At the latter's Arboretum Trompenburg in Rotterdam I picked up a brochure that aptly describes the collection: “TROMPENBURG: Where the elite of the world's trees meet.” I like that motto, and perhaps they were inspired with the aid of a bottle of wine, just as I was with the Flora Wonder Arboretum: Plants from the Best Corners of the World.”

Tsuga mertensiana


The one plant in this blog that I have never grown is x jeffreyi or var. jeffreyi, so it's the tree that I covet the most out of all the entries in Conifers. Or, better yet, my desire would be sated if someone in the Flora Wonder Blog readership could lead me to a wild grove, which I've heard exists at more than one location. Help me to achieve my Coniferous Grail.