Monday, April 29, 2024

My Garden Labyrinth

There are many paths that enter into, or exit from our original Display Garden at Buchholz Nursery. The famous baseball legend Yogi Berra, noted for his humorous observations, once advised that “when you come to a fork in the road, take it.” I feel that way about my garden, and with others I admire, that the many forks amount to many decisions for the visitor, so that when one chooses a certain path, the pilgrim is also accompanied with a regret, or an agitation at least...until the other fork is eventually traversed. Even the act of reversing course on the same path becomes a new route due to a shift in perspective.

Reuben Hatch with Paeonia 'Joseph Rock'


Robert Frost


My best friend, the late Reuben Hatch, had visited the nursery a couple of hundred times I suppose, and the best possible compliment was bestowed a couple of years ago when he commented that with each visit he found something new and interesting. In that sense I took the poet Robert Frost's approach to take the road less traveled: to create and maintain an arboretum full of beauty and curiosity, with the nursery business – the capitalistic endeavor – subservient to the tree collection.

Rhodo. orbiculare 'Edinburgh' and Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost' in the Display Garden


Rhododendron orbiculare 'Edinburgh'


Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost'


A few days ago I walked from the office with the intention of writing up a pine candle-pruning list in the Lower Containers. I got diverted, lured into the Display Garden with the flowering of Rhododendron orbiculare 'Edinburgh', and the original tree of Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost' in its background. With its fresh spring leaves the maple illuminated the garden, and though I have walked the same route a few thousand times before, at that particular moment I was drawn into the dream. The 'Purple Ghost' originated as a seedling from the mother tree of Acer palmatum 'Kasagi yama' sometime in the 1980s, then was planted into the garden in 1992. It was temporarily identified as 'Kasag DG 92', and in fact grafts were sold as such in the early years. Now, of course, I regret ever selling the tree with a code name, especially when one customer opined that he didn't want to order 'Purple Ghost' because he found 'Kasag DG 92' to be “far superior.” Since it was pointless to straighten him out, I concurred that 'Kasag DG 92' was "hard to beat."

Rhododendron orbiculare 'Exbury'


Rhododendron orbiculare 'Exbury'


We grow two forms of Rhododendron orbiculare in the Flora Wonder Arboretum – 'Exbury' and 'Edinburgh' – and though we single-quote them as if they were official cultivars, it's really just an indication of their source. Rhododendron species – as well as with all plants – vary in the wild. Plant hunters of yore were always keen to discover a new species, but certain collectors were particularly interested to find the best form of the species. The R. orbiculare from Exbury features deep pink campanulate blossoms, but I don't know when the 200 acre Rothschild estate acquired their start. Likewise, I don't know the origin of the 'Edinburgh' form, except that my source was the RHS Botanic Garden, Edinburgh, Scotland. The species itself was introduced by E.H. Wilson in 1904 from Sichuan, China. It was so-named by French botanist Joseph Decaisne due to its rounded, heart-shaped leaves (green above and glaucous beneath) which are held horizontally in spring and summer. Even with little care from the gardener, R. orbiculare forms a neat, dome-shaped bush, wonderful whether it is in bloom or not.

Rhododendron williamsianum


Rhododendron williamsianum


A green blob beneath the R. orbiculare is a young plant of Rhododendron williamsianum, which in a nutshell is a miniature version of R. orbiculare. It too was introduced by E.H. Wilson from Sichuan, China, but the difference being that Wilson discovered R. orbiculare while working for Veitch Nursery in England and the R. williamsianum while he labored under the auspices of the Arnold Arboretum in Boston, USA in 1908. My start came from the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden in Federal Way, Washington, and it is described as “One of the finest, easiest and most attractive of all species.” The RSBG form is from the collection at Caerhays Castle in southern England, and the proprietor there was J.C. Williams (1861-1939) – hence the specific epithet – a passionate gardener who contributed greatly to the plant-hunting expeditions of George Forrest and others in the early 1900s.

Rhododendron williamsianum


A 2015 blog from the American Rhododendron Society, posted by Brenda Macdonald, sings the praises of R. williamsianum: “Its unique combination of almost orbicular, mid-green leaves, spreading and somewhat rounded or dome-shaped habit, and disproportionately large, candy-pink, campanulate flowers make it easy to recognize and well-adapted to gardens both large and small.” Wow – I'm impressed with her description which employs more commas and dashes than even I normally use. Ms. Macdonald follows that tribute with an interesting furtherance: “Its densely mounded shape often has a somewhat brooding appearance, a bit like having a very large toadstool in the garden...but its solid presence makes a good anchor to a plant grouping, and can provide an effective screen, if needed.” Absolutely I, and other gardeners, would propose that R. williamsianum makes an acceptable inclusion into a rock garden; however the RSBG created just that, but after 30-40 years of age the “miniatures” are now about 4' tall by 6' wide and they almost block the path through them. My solo specimen won't crowd anything in my lifetime, but probably some of my younger employees will grumble in the future about my unfathomable placements.

Acer palmatum 'Mikazuki' in the Display Garden


Acer palmatum 'Mikazuki' at Flora Farm


OK, now the “fork in the road” conundrum: Umm...let's take the left path after passing the aforementioned Rhododendron species and the 'Purple Ghost' maple, for a different color hue awaits us with a lovely wide-spreading specimen of Acer palmatum 'Mikazuki'. I used to lament that my Display Garden was devoid of adequate shade, that all plants in the garden (including the gardener himself) would benefit from PM shade, especially when our temperatures reach near to or above 100 F every summer. Now, however, the garden produces an abundance – or an indulgence – of shade, maybe even too much for best maple foliage color. 'Mikazuki' is pink in the crowded, shaded Display Garden, but a specimen in full sun at Flora Farm is more of a solid red at this time of year, plus the full-sun tree is at least twice the size at the same age.

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Gold Rush'


Sciadopitys verticillata 'Gold Rush' (middle)

In between the maples 'Purple Ghost' and 'Mikazuki' is a skinny “Umbrella pine” with yellow foliage. Sciadopitys verticillata 'Gold Rush' is the cultivar, but its narrow form and washed-out yellow-green foliage is the result of too much shade. Every time I pass it I'm urged to transplant the wimp, but I always walk away knowing it will never happen today, and before you know it, three or four years have passed. 'Gold Rush' is a catchy cultivar tag, but we already have other plants so-named: an Edgeworthia chrysantha, a Hosta and a Metasequoia glyptostroboides. The Sciadopitys 'Gold Rush' was selected from seedlings in 1991 at Wittboldt-Muller Nursery, Germany, where a group looked happy when I saw them ten years later. The cultivar is sometimes known as 'Golden Rush', but in any case it competes in appearance and sales with others such as 'Goldammer', 'Gold Star' and 'Ossorio Gold'. We had a 6' tall 'Gold Rush' growing in full sun in one of our irrigated gardens, and to my amazement the foliage withstood our 116 F heat dome three years ago without burn, who would have thought? The following spring, however, it looked a little off, and sure enough by the end of summer it was dead. We have never propagated the golden umbrellas from rooted cuttings, as we do with some of the green cultivars. Instead we root a green variety such as 'Wintergreen', then about two years later we use that as understock for grafting 'Gold Rush'.


Sciadopitys verticillata in Forest Grove, Oregon


I have been to Japan a number of times but I have never seen the Sciadopitys species in the wild, which I would like to accomplish in the near future. I don't have a far future. Actually the largest Umbrella pine I have ever seen is growing in Forest Grove (on Ash Street), Oregon, just five blocks away from where I grew up as a child. It was planted in 1910, according to a city arbor survey, but the history of where it came from is lost in time. Sadly it is planted* in front of a beater house, and hopefully the future property owners will realize they have a famous tree, maybe even the largest in Oregon, so don't go local and cut it down to make way for a new porch.

*…or, more likely, the tree's existence predated the beater house.


Rhododendron yuefengense


Rhododendron yuefengense


Rhododendron yuefengense


We're still wandering in the original Display Garden and now we discover a relatively new planting of Rhododendron yuefengense which looks like a hopped-up R. orbiculare. As with the others discussed in this blog, R. yuefengense is in the Subgenus Hymenanthes, subsection Fortunea, all with the rounded leaves. My source for the R. yuef. was the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden and I consider my $16.00 pot an excellent investment. I only grow the very choicest of Rhododendron species and cultivars as I must be selective due to limited space. We propagate a few by grafting but finding good rootstock is not easy since most Rhodo producers pinch and prune their young starts to achieve a full body, but for us we just want a single straight stem, on a hardy disease-resistant rootstock.

Leucothoe keiskei


Leucothoe keiskei


Keisuke Ito


My Rhododendron yuefengense loves its place in the shade, as does a nearby Leucothoe keiskei. Both are incredible foliage plants, the former from Guangxi, China and the latter from Japan. Leucothoe is an ericaceous genus as is Rhododendron, and both genera thrive under the same cultural conditions. The genus name Leucothoe honors one of Apollo's lovers, while the specific epithet keiskei was named for the Japanese physician and botanist Keisuke Ito (1803-1901). As a doctor the venerable Ito developed a vaccine against small pox, but was equally accomplished as a botanist who studied the Japanese flora and fauna with Philipp von Siebold. Besides the Leucothoe we also grow Rhododendron keiskei, a dwarf, upright bush (var. keiskei) and the extremely prostrate ground-hugger (var. ozawae) which includes the garden gem 'Yaku Fairy'.

Stewartia x henryae 'Skyrocket'


Stewartia henryae


Stewartia henryae


On the same path, and also crammed in the shade is Stewartia x henryae 'Skyrocket'. The hybrid is a cross of S. monadelpha and S. pseudocamellia and is notable for great orange-to-red-to-purple fall color and a patchwork of tan and brown exfoliating bark on mature specimens. The hybrid x henryae was named for the Pennsylvania botanist Mrs. J. Norman Henry who first made the cross. 'Skyrocket', as you would suppose, lifts-off with a narrow, upright form. It originated from seed in 1959 at the Polly Hill Arboretum and in 1991 when it was over thirty years old it was 30' tall by 10' wide with a straight trunk and a vase shape. My specimen in the Display Garden is even more narrow as it stretches for the light.

Acer palmatum 'Shojo nomura'

Acer palmatum 'Shojo nomura'


Acer palmatum 'Shojo nomura'


The Stewartia x henryae receives its shade from a nearby Acer palmatum 'Shojo nomura', a forty-year-old specimen which I purchased from the late J.D. Vertrees of Maplewood Nursery. I remember being overwhelmed at that time with the multitude of red-upright Japanese maples that were simultaneously vying for commercial prominence. The debate was always, "Which is the best," meaning which cultivar would best hold its red foliage throughout the summer. Vertrees gave a nod towards 'Shojo nomura', though he stopped short of claiming it was "better" than 'Bloodgood', 'Moonfire' and some others more established in the trade. I think he was championing 'Shojo nomura' because it wasn't the best, but still pretty nice, and it was an old cultivar that should be honored, not dismissed. The Japanese name translates as "beautiful red-faced monkey" for reasons unknown to me, but then I've never seen such a creature.

Thuja plicata 'Filifera Nana'


Thuja plicata 'Whipcord'


Thuja plicata 'Whipcord'


Original Thuja plicata 'Whipcord' at Drake's Crossing Nursery


Somewhat out of place in this shady garden is an old specimen of Thuja plicata 'Filifera Nana', a dwarf thread-branch form of the "Western Red Cedar." The thread shoots are dark green and look luxurious from being in shade, but the beast will eventually outgrow its site. Oh well, we have a better, larger specimen in the Blue Forest which is about 8' tall by 25' wide in 40 years. Visitors assume it is the mother of all Thuja plicata 'Whipcord', a similar cultivar that has been in the trade for just a couple of decades. But not so; 'Whipcord' was found as a seedling at Drake's Crossing Nursery near Silverton, Oregon, and probably never should have been named since 'Filifera Nana' takes precedence by at least a century. Admittedly the cultivar 'Whipcord' is far more commercially named than the old Latin 'Filifera Nana', and we discontinued the latter because of that, but they are not synonymous as many conifer mongers assume. Actually the names are confusing because many cultivars in the Cupressaceae family feature thread-like foliage, and more-or-less look alike, such as Thuja occidentalis 'Filifera Nana', 'Thuja orientalis 'Filiformis Nana' and the similar 'Franky Boy', 'Chamaecyparis pisifera 'Filifera Nana' and probably others I can't think of now. Buchholz Nursery has propagated and sold many thousands of 'Whipcord', and nurseries larger than mine are also active in the fray, but in my entire career, I doubt if I have sold even a couple hundred of 'Filifera Nana'. The point is that a good plant name is extremely important for commercial success, while a poor name can doom a good plant forever.

Adiantum venustum


Adiantum venustum


I ventured into ferns about 15 years ago, figuring that since my company was renowned for maples and dwarf conifers, that a selection of hardy ferns would complement our product line. But what should have succeeded did not; it's pointless to question why…and I moved on to other plants.

Fern-time was fun-time for me personally though, and I don't regret making (spending) for the acquaintance with many wonderful species and cultivars. I incorporated a number of them into the landscape which I continue to appreciate, so all was not lost. Adiantum venustum is one of my favorites, a delicate-looking, low-spreading evergreen that's hardy to USDA zone 5, or -20 F. It is commonly called the "Himalayan maidenhair," and who wouldn't want such a soft creature creeping under maples and amongst your conifers? As Sue Olsen poetically describes it in The Plant Lover's Guide to Ferns: "The broadly triangular, tripinnate blades emerge in early spring with a flush of salmon-colored frothy feathers and are unaffected by late frosts." Frothy feathers indeed! I'll add that the thin black stems (stipes) provide a nice complement with the light yellow-green foliage. With Adiantum venustum and some other species, my foray into ferns has added a beautiful and educational chapter to my horticultural biography, though I'm still a novice with the ferns.

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Miss Grace'


Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Miss Grace'


Hovering over the sweet maidenhair is one of the greatest introductions of recent times – Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Miss Grace'. Our weeping "Dawn redwood" is one of four original grafts from a prostrate witch's broom discovered in New York state. It was staked in its early years, and now rises to 10' tall with an 8' base spread, and the stout trunk is nearly 12" in caliper at 26 years of age. Hillier describes it as "A small, elegant cultivar with a compact habit and weeping branches clothed with grey-green foliage that turns vibrant orange in autumn." If Hillier saw my hefty original he would probably revise his "small, elegant" description. My old specimen sits at the beginning (or end) of the path, depending on which way you go. Between the R. orbiculare 'Edinburgh'/Acer palmatum 'Purple Ghost' beginning…to the Metasequoia 'Miss Grace' finale, I could have taken quite a number of "forks in the road." In my mere acre-size labyrinth one could probably take a couple of million unique routes, back and forth, up and down, 'round and around, in and out, left-right-straight ahead etc. It's probably more statistically possible to win the lottery than to accomplish all of my garden path combinations but my jackpot of floral treasures is surely greater than a bagful of lottery cash.

So, what started out as a purposeful nursery project – pine candle-pruning – turned into an hour of wonderful wanderment, which is the main purpose of my tree collection anyway. A wiry Scotsman with reddish hair and a soiled kilt once described his visit in our Display Garden: "I meeandered with mee thoughts above mee head." Bonny right!

Monday, April 22, 2024

Charles Maries, a Veitch Nursery Plant Collector

Charles Maries


Charles Maries (1851-1902) was an English plant collector who was active in Japan and China in 1877-1879, working for the internationally famous Veitch Nursery firm. He was born in Stratford-upon-Avon (Shakespeare's town) and attended grammar school where the Head-master, Professor Henslow, instilled in him a love of botany. After graduating Maries worked at his brother's small nursery for seven years, then went on to employment with Veitch and Sons at Chelsea. Due to his hard work and enthusiasm he was selected to explore and collect seed of Japanese coniferous trees, and then to visit the Yangtze Valley in China to procure plants hardy for English gardens.


Viburnum mariesii


Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum 'Mariesii'


Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum 'Mariesii'


Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum 'Mariesii'


Maries discovered more than 500 new taxa, yet he was never considered one of the heavyweight collectors in the Far East such as was Robert Fortune, E.H. Wilson, Armand David, George Forrest and others. Nevertheless he introduced some outstanding plants that are now rather common in today's landscapes. One such is Viburnum mariesii, or at least that was the name when I first acquired it, but now it is classified as V. plicatum f. tomentosum 'Mariesii'. It is noted for dense, horizontal branches that are loaded with lace-cap white flowers (non-fragrant) that bloom profusely in April-May. I confess that I have never grown the form, but I see it frequently in western Oregon landscapes, often adorning large-campus corporate buildings. The flower clusters appear in two rows or files, hence the common name of “double file viburnum.” In general viburnums are considered cheap shrubs that attract root weevils, so they are sparse in my collection, but when in flower I find them quite elegant. Plantsmen who champion the genus offer the advice: “Viburnum when you can mulch em?


Enkianthus campanulatus in the Japanese wild


Enkianthus campanulatus from Temple Garden


Enkianthus campanulatus from Temple Garden


With botanists Thunberg, Siebold and others preceding Maries in Japan, it's surprising that it took until 1880 for Maries to introduce the garden gem Enkianthus campanulatus. I have seen the species myself in the Japanese wild, and in autumn the foliage screams loudly with orange-to-red-to-purple coloration. In spring the multi-branched ericaceous shrub is festooned with cheerful, bell-shaped flowers – hence campanulatum – that range in color from white to deep red.


Abies mariesii


Abies sachalinensis


Abies veitchii 'Glauca'


Abies veitchii 'Glauca'


Abies veitchii 'Glauca'


From southern Honshu at Yokohama Maries proceeded northward by land to northern Honshu at Awomori [sic], now known as Aomori for “blue forest,” but also the name can mean “green forest” since the Japanese inexplicably describe the colors blue and green interchangeably. There, Maries discovered a new conifer in a city garden which was native to a nearby mountain. He collected seed and the English nurseryman, garden designer and amateur botanist William Masters eventually coined the name of Abies mariesii. It can also be found further south at Nikko, growing in company with Abies veitchii which Maries also introduced. Masters described A. mariesii as a “fine Abies [that] will prove an important addition to our park and landscape trees...” Masters continues, “Young plants growing in our nursery at Coombe Wood show characters perfectly distinct from every other fir in cultivation.” Well, maybe distinct to the botanist, but not so much for me. Also, near Aomori, Maries discovered yet another species, Abies sachalinensis, which botanist Masters described as “one of the most valuable conifers of recent introduction.” For what it's worth, I've only encountered the three Maries's species in American or in European arboreta, but never in any city landscape. In The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019) Abies veitchii is described as a “handsome species,” a favorite “silver-backed” fir. I take the “silver-back” to mean the needle undersides, which are ornamentally conspicuous when looking up from beneath a large specimen, and the silvery undersides contrast nicely with the upper needle color, especially with the cultivar A. veitchii 'Glauca'.

Rhododendron indicum 'Kinu no hikari'


Rhododendron indicum 'Kinu no hikari'

The specific epithet for Rhododendron indicum would suggest that it is native to India, however Maries discovered and introduced it from southern Japan. The relatively hardy (0F – 10F) evergreen shrub features white-to-salmon-pink flowers with petals that are similar in shape to the green leaves. The cultivar 'Kinu no hikari' is particularly riotous when blooming, and the specimen above surely impresses the crowd when displayed at the Pacific Rim Bonsai exhibit in Washington state. Frankly, it's so colorful that one wonders if it's a fake made from plastic.


Styrax obassia


Styrax obassia


Styrax obassia


From the same region as the Rhododendron indicum Maries also discovered Styrax obassia and introduced it in 1879. The fragrant white flowers are larger than with the common Styrax japonicus, but even when not blooming its large, light-green, broadly ovate leaves are attractive. The autumn foliage is light-yellow; then in winter one can appreciate the grayish trunk which begins to exfoliate when the tree is about five years old. We used to grow Styrax obassia in the field, and young one-gallon starts would grow to at least 12' tall in five years, so it was a very profitable USDA zone 5 crop. I suppose it's only a matter of time when someone discovers a form with purple leaves, or maybe a weeper, or maybe one with pink flowers as with the S. japonicus species. According to the Missouri Botanical Garden's Plant Finder website: “The genus name [Styrax] comes from the classical Greek name derived from a Semitic name for these resin producing plants.” Hmm...I've cut plenty of scionwood for S. japonicus but I never noticed them to produce a resin. As usual, my Japanese wife Haruko to the rescue: her research suggests Styrax means “calm fragrance,” with another theory indicating it's Arabic for “tear drop,” and I guess the seed capsules do dangle down as if shedding tears. The Plant Finder says that the specific epithet obassia is a “Japanese name.” That explanation didn't satisfy me at all since obassia is certainly not a Japanese word. The Euros Siebold and Zuccarini are credited with the obassia name, but something was lost in the translation. Haruko claims that the specific epithet should be oba (“big leaf”) jishi (“lettuce”), and it's true that if you peel off a leaf of iceberg lettuce it would resemble the Styrax leaf in both shape and color. The Japanese common name, however, is not oba jishi, but rather haku un boku for “white cloud tree,” due to its large ornamental flowers.


Schizophragma hydrangeoides 'Iwa garami'


Schizophragma hydrangeoides 'Moonlight'


Schizophragma hydrangeoides 'Roseum'


Schizophragma hydrangeoides is another Japanese species that was first described by Siebold and Zuccarini, but it was Maries who encountered it in Hokkaido and sent seed to the Veitch company for introduction. The climber roots readily from softwood cuttings under mist in summer but sales weren't strong for the straight species. We never had any trouble selling the cultivar 'Moonlight' however; and what a great name since the blue-green leaves feature a shimmer of silver. Also, the cultivar 'Roseum' is an easy sell, which Hillier describes as “a lovely form with rose-flushed bracts,” and its autumn foliage is attractive as well. Schizophragma is in the hydrangea family (Hydrangeaceae) hence the specific epithet, while the genus name, not surprisingly, is derived from Latin schizein for “split” and achyron for “chaff,” with chaff meaning the scale-like parts of the flowers.


Hamamelis mollis


Shamisen


Hamamelis mollis is the Chinese witch hazel, and to quote Hillier: “Perhaps the handsomest of all witch hazel species and deservedly popular. First introduced by Charles Maries in 1879.” Not only did he discover a new species, he even made the cultivar introduction of 'Coombe Wood'. “A spreading form with large flowers. Scent strong and sweet. Autumn color yellow.” The mollis species combines with H. japonica to form H. x intermedia, the cross being first observed at the Arnold Arboretum of Boston. Director Alfred Rehder coined the epithetic name; he wasn't very imaginative, was he? Nevertheless the greatest number of Hamamelis cultivars available to the market are from the hybrid, even though the cross is not a particular improvement over the parents themselves, at least in my opinion. The time Maries spent in China was short from two visits, and the reason is that he didn't enjoy the rough landscape, especially the dangerous rivers, and most importantly he disliked the Chinese people themselves, and the feeling was mutual. In contrast he was happy and well-liked in Japan. He impressed the locals with his riflemanship, and also he was a talented musician who learned to play the Japanese shamisen, a type of banjo.


Daphne genkwa 'Hackenberry Group'


Daphne genkwa 'Hackenberry Group'


Daphne genkwa 'Hackenberry Group'


When Maries first arrived in China in 1877 he was anxious to track down a beautiful lilac (Syringa) in Ningpo, the territory where Robert Fortune was based for a time previously. He couldn't find any lilac in that area, but when he was in Shanghai later he was waiting to buy tickets for his trip to Japan. A Chinese man walked by carrying a bunch of lilac-colored flower stems and he was persuaded to lead Maries to a local nursery-garden where he discovered Daphne genkwa, not a lilac. According to Hillier: “Introduced in 1843 from China by Robert Fortune. Long cultivated in Japan for decorative purposes and cut flowers.” If Maries is to be given credit for introducing new species, it sometimes meant that he wasn't technically the first, rather the first to collect in abundant numbers. I grew the beautiful species for a number of years, but ultimately it became problematic as we would tend to overwater, and if you placed three plants in the ground you would be lucky to have one still alive after ten years. The epithet genkwa is the Japanese pronunciation of its Chinese name Yuan hua (Yuan flower). The gardener should not be careless with D. genkwa, for all parts of the plant are poisonous, and it has even been used as a pesticide.


Acer maximowiczianum


Acer maximowiczianum


Acer 'Cinnamon Flake'


Acer 'Cinnamon Flake'


Acer 'Cinnamon Flake'


Acer 'Cinnamon Flake'


Acer maximowiczianum used to be known as Acer nikoense and Maries encountered it at Nikko, as did I in their sprawling botanic garden twenty-plus years ago, before I was married to Haruko. The specific epithet honors Carl Johann Maximowicz who discovered it in 1860s, but it was Maries who introduced it in production numbers. The species is notable for its trifoliate leaves which turn to brilliant reddish hues in autumn. A. maximowiczianum will cross with the similar Acer griseum, but the resulting hybrids display less exfoliation – famous for A. griseum – but the trunks are attractively furrowed and somewhat peeling. I grow the cultivar 'Cinnamon Flake', and with the A. max. influence the vigorous clone has been dubbed a “griseum on steroids.” There are other cultivars of the hybrid as well, one known as 'Gingerbread', a cute name, but I've never grown it. The maple novice should be alerted that confusion could arise between the similarly named A. maximowiczianum and A. maximowiczii, for they are two very different species. The botanists of yore were not helpful in that regard.


Acer carpinifolium


    Acer carpinifolium


Acer carpinifolium 'Esveld Select'


Acer carpinifolium 'Esveld Select'


Acer carpinifolium is the “Hornbeam maple,” an attractive species with leaves totally resembling the Carpinus genus. I grow a specimen at Flora Farm and I enjoy the fresh-green leaves in spring, the golden-brown color in fall, and the very autumnish seed panicles which persist into winter. There is a wonderful selection from Esveld Nursery in Boskoop, The Netherlands that features highly serrated leaves, and was named 'Esveld Select'. To propagate an A. carpinifolium cultivar one must either root it – soft wood cuttings under mist in summer – or by grafting. Brian Humphrey in The Bench Grafter's Handbook advises that a suitable rootstock could be “A. davidii or others in the Macrantha section,” and he further comments that “A. palmatum is also said to produce a compatible union.” I've never tried A. palmatum as rootstock, and I'd like to inspect the graft union twenty or thirty years later. Maries discovered the Hornbeam maple on the northern island of Hokkaido, Japan and introduced it in 1879.


Cercidiphyllum japonicum


Cercidiphyllum japonicum


According to Sue Shephard in her biography Seeds of Fortune, a story that discusses the Veitch dynasty's plant collectors such as Maries, Cercidiphyllum japonicum was collected by him in Hokkaido about the same time (1879) as Acer carpinifolium. Hillier says the Katsura was introduced in 1881, the year after Maries left Japan for good, so I don't understand the date discrepancy. In any case the medium-to-large-sized species has more dwarf forms such as 'Boyd's Dwarf', globe-shaped such as 'Heronswood Globe', weeping selections like 'Morioka Weeping' and others. We have collected C.j. 'Strawberry' with new leaves that emerge maroon, turning to green by summer, then strawberry-red in autumn. Besides the fantastic autumn foliage, at the same time the tree emits a sweet, burnt-sugar aroma. The genus name Cercidiphyllum refers to the resemblance of the broadly oval leaves to the Cercis genus. Hillier says “the affinities of the genus have been disputed. It has been thought to be related to either Euptelea or Liriodendron,” and the discussion will keep contending botanists well occupied.

Chimonobambusa quadrangularis - from Lewis Bamboo, AL


The final Maries introduction that I find of great interest is the “Square bamboo,” Chimonobambusa quadrangularis. I've never grown it – I've never been a bamboo guy – but I would love to watch the non-hardy species develop in a heated greenhouse. I don't own a nursery anymore, but I still haven't lost the drive to collect plants. Maries must have been delighted to introduce such a rarity even though its not winter hardy.


Brian Humphrey receiving the Victoria Medal of Honour in 2013


Charles Maries accomplished a lot in the two years in the Orient, especially since he was sidelined for two months after suffering sunstroke. I don't know, but I kind of imagine the man was a prissy wimp in comparison with many of the other Veitch collectors. Maybe that's not fair, but after returning to England in 1880, in 1882 he accepted a post in India, on recommendation by Sir Joseph Hooker, as Superintendent of the gardens of the Maharajah of Darbhanga. In 1897 Maries was honored with the Royal Horticultural Society's Victoria Medal of Honour, one of the first 60 recipients to be awarded. Sadly, Maries died at age 51 from a kidney stone in India, leaving behind a wife and three children. The Veitch firm summed up their plant collector as “enthusiastic, but lacked staying power.”


Mahonia mairei


Mahonia duclouxiana (syn. mairei)


P.S. I have a plant of Mahonia mairei next to the driveway at Flora Farm, so I see it at least two times per day. I always assumed that it was another Maries collection, but I did considerable research on the matter and can find no connection; and besides, why would the epithet be mairei and not mariesii? One nugget of information that I gleaned (from plantsman Dan Hinkley) is that Mahonia mairei and Mahonia duclouxiana are synonymous.

Sources for this blog, i.e. those whom I plagiarize, are The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019), Sue Shephard's Seeds of Fortune (2003), Hortus Veitchii (1906), Bretschneider's History of European Botanical Discoveries in China (1903), Veitch's Manual of the Coniferae (1881) and The Bench Grafter's Handbook (2019) by Brian Humphrey. Though I couldn't solve the Mahonia mairei question, all of these publications stand on their own merit as enjoyable reads.


Plants With Stories


My hobby has long been The Whence of Plants, for all of them have a story.