A Paeony Dream

Paeonia obovatum

Paeonia obovatum

Most Flora Wonder Blog readers know what I grow, basically, since the crops fall into one of three main groups: 1) maples 2) dwarf and unusual conifers and 3) everything else. The latter group consists of plants I consider beautiful or interesting, ranging from alpines to Zenobia, with Paeonia somewhere in the middle. I think that from my modest collection we propagated only P. ludlowii and P. lutea. We would gather the black elk-turd-looking seeds that fell under the bush, copying the nursery's resident squirrels that transport them to all parts in the gardens, and these seeds would readily germinate for both the squirrels and us.

Paeonia 'Joseph Rock'

My knowledge of the Paeonia genus is sparse, not that I don't find many wonderful, but because my brain has a limited capacity I was always afraid to invest my precious synapses willy-nilly. In a recent blog post, My Garden Labyrinth, April 29, 2024 is a photo of the late Reuben Hatch sniffing a Paeonia 'Joseph Rock'. The point of the photo was to illustrate Reuben's connection with my life's career, and he could just as well have been smelling a rose or a camellia, or dog shit for that matter.

A blog reader, Brian Humphrey VMH from England, was curious about the peony in particular, and I'm always interested in what the old plantsman has to say:

Dear Talon,

As always we enjoy your blogs. Julie is especially keen on etymology so your details on this for various plants etc. always pleases. Your latest on the Veitch dynasty was well up to standard. 

I am really contacting you because of your picture of Reuben Hatch holding what you say is Paeony Joseph Rock. As it happens I have been quite involved with that plant through the Notcutt propagator Ivan Dickings. 

Gansu Province in red

Sir Frederick Stern

Ivan was a very keen plantsman as well as fine propagator and I am not sure how but he made contact with the public council now running Sir Frederick Stern`s old garden near Worthing on our south coast. Stern was a great gardener with a particular interest in Paeonies I believe. He heard the story of Joseph Rock finding a paeony of outstanding merit in a lammasary in Kansu (now Gansu) in China. Obtained seed from the lammas and sent it to Arnold Arboretum. He was possibly commissioned by them to search for plant material. To cut short a long story which you may well be familiar with Stern had seed of this plant sent to him by Arnold and had the plant in his his garden – Highdown – remained there for many years. By a circuitous route Ivan managed to get scions of this plant and was largely responsible for its reintroduction into British gardens.

Paeonia 'Highdown'

Paeonia Gansu hybrid

Paeonia Gansu hybrid

Paeonia Gansu hybrid

I obtained scions from Ivan and we have several plants of `Joseph Rock` here. I have to tell you that keen plantsmen/botanists have got onto this story and have now decided that the plant coming from Highdown cannot be called Joseph Rock because it is a seedling and not vegetative material from the original at Arnold. As a result to my great regret it now has to be called Highdown. I believe/assume that Stern`s plant was very similar to the original at Arnold but I have to concede that seedlings from the plant now know as the Gansu hybrids do vary considerably. Some of them are outstanding plants in their own right and I attach a few pictures of Ivan Dicking`s seedlings we are lucky to have in the garden here. One of them a white with less pronounced purple central markings could I suppose pass as Joseph Rock.

Paeonia rockii

I have to tell you looking at the picture of Joseph Rock you posted Julie and I have doubts as to whether it is the true plant as we understand it. Paeonia rockii has been found and introduced since Rock`s original discovery I believe and include a picture of a good form of rockii for your interest. It would be interesting to know the source of Reuben`s plant or is it one of yours?

Best wishes 

Brian

My response will be directed to Mr. Humphrey and all others who read this blog:

Thank you for your comments. It's nice to know that at least two plant people find something of interest with the FW Blog. As usual you stir me with a question, but this time I'm not experienced enough to adequately answer. The Hatch photo is 15-20 years old, taken at the University of California Botanic Garden in Berkeley, California. The UC garden is at least one hundred years old and they were direct recipients of plants from George Forrest and Joseph Rock etc. but I'm not aware about the details of the peony in question. We tried to enlarge the label beneath the plant but still cannot make it out. I didn't invent the plant name but I did copy it. So, if I captioned it as Paeonia 'Joseph Rock' that's what the label said. I don't know if that name is the same, or different from Paeonia rockii. I admit that my photo doesn't show a flower quite as dramatic with purple markings as some P. rockii I have seen. I have never grown the species or any of its hybrids though, but I would if I knew where to obtain them.

Anna Pavord

I thought my response would be the end of the matter, but the very next day, as if from on high, I stumbled onto an Anna Pavord article in The Independent (US edition), from 14, October 2006, entitled A Paean to Peonies. Ms. Pavord is a well-known British horticultural writer and I have enjoyed her works in The Garden, the RHS's monthly publication, as well as her wonderful memoir Landskipping from 2016, The Tulip 1999, and The Naming of Names (The Search for Order in the World of Plants) 2005. In her article Pavord admits that, like me, she has never grown a P. rockii or any of the hybrids, but nevertheless she manages to explain the Rockian muddle to my satisfaction. Hmm…what should I do – plagiarize her article entirely or rewrite it as if I already know the salient points? In either case I would be plagiarizing, wouldn't I? I decided there is no harm/no foul for me to present her exact words, so why beat around the peony bush? Ms. Pavord writes:

A Paean to Peonies: The Chinese have been cultivating them for years. A nursery in Cheshire is mad for them. But just what's so special about the tree peony? Anna Pavord takes a fresh look

In the autumn of 1961, Dezhong Chen resigned from his job as factory accountant in the Chinese province of Gansu and took off for the hills. The government of the time had called for 'educated urban youth to go and work in the country and mountain areas to strengthen agriculture'; Dezhong Chen's idealistic plan was to return to his home town, Peace, and revitalise the barren land of this poor, drought-stricken area by sourcing and planting trees and shrubs that could survive the harsh conditions. After years of home study, and a degree in forestry, he began to put together a collection of native plants that he felt could do the job. Surprisingly – at least to those who cosset them in their English gardens – it included several kinds of tree peony.

These big woody peonies have been cultivated in China for thousands of years, as much for their medicinal uses as for their beauty – the bark from the root is highly prized in Chinese medicine. In his Peace Peony Nursery, Chen began to gather in various local types of purple-blotched mudan (as Peking has become Beijing, so moutan has shifted to mudan), and by crossing them created a whole new race of tree peonies that were tough, vigorous and versatile enough for his purpose. Painfully, through the course of 10 winters, he dug a channel 150 yards long to bring water from a spring to the drought-prone nursery where the annual rainfall is only 35cm and there are just 155 frost-free days in the year.

Nicole and Robert Pardo

Gradually these Gansu Mudan, as they are now officially called (see The Plant Finder for the 19 named varieties on sale over here), began to acquire a reputation, not only in China, but beyond. In France, Robert and Nicole Pardo began growing them at La Pivoine Bleue, their nursery at Montégut just north of the Pyrenees. In England, they have become an 'obsession' for Will McLewin of the Phedar Research and Experimental Nursery in Cheshire. It began, he says, 'with the conviction that most of what was said about Paeonia rockii and 'Rock's peony' was inaccurate, and that there were many similar or associated plants that should be better known and more widely available.'

Joseph Rock

The fabled P. rockii is named after the American plant hunter Joseph Rock, who is said to have seen this exotic tree peony with vast white flowers growing in the garden of a Buddhist monastery in Gansu province. McLewin, who with Chen has now written a definitive account of the peonies he has called the Gansu Mudan ( Peony rockii and Gansu Mudan, Wellesley Cambridge Press), tells a different story. He debunks a few myths and instead stitches together a complicated trail showing that few of the tree peonies that bear Rock's name are really the wild P. rockii and that many of the ones in cultivation have descended from ancient Chinese hybrids.

We are talking here about a shrubby peony (tree is a misnomer, as McLewin is quick to point out) with woody stems that are a permanent part of its structure. Its cousin, the herbaceous peony, dies down to the ground each autumn, producing fresh, juicy shoots in spring. The growth on a tree peony is upright and rather sparse, though a mature plant can be up to seven feet high and wide. The flowers are enormous, sometimes a foot across and the Chinese species P. rockii is thought particularly desirable because the blooms are pure white, with dramatic blackish-purple blotches at the base.

Xinglong Mountains

McLewin provides an exhaustive list showing how the wild P. rockii from the Xinglong Mountains differs from the cultivated Gansu Mudan. That the flowering period is 15 days, compared with 24 for the cultivars, is one reason why the Gansu Mudan is far more attractive to most gardeners than the wild species. The photographs which take up a large chunk of the McLewin/Chen book (150 in a total of 181 pages) are an even more potent draw.

The Chinese classify these peonies by colour - nine different shades. As a gardener, I'd say the choice is white or pink, but the variation on those two themes is immensely subtle, almost as delicate, intricate and sophisticated as a tulip's. As with the tulip, much of the drama comes from the contrast between the overall colour of the petal and the basal blotch. In some cultivars, the dark blotch bleeds through like raspberry juice into the surrounding colour of the petal. In others it is neatly confined to a series of thumbprints. Some petals are smooth-edged, others are as ruffled as a ballerina's tutu.

As well as the nine colours, the Chinese designate six forms of tree peony flower: single, lotus, rose, anemone, crown and globular. In general, going by the pictures alone, I liked the singles best, especially those such as 'Xiong Mao' (bear cat or panda in English) and 'Yu Shan Lun Jin' (which translates roughly as feather fan silk braid).

Conditions at the Chinese nursery are very much more extreme than at McLewin's Cheshire nursery where winter temperatures don't often drop below -6C and there are rarely more than 38 days of frost. Average rainfall there is 90cm, almost three times as much as Chen can expect in Gansu. The French nursery provides a third set of different conditions, a Mediterranean climate with mild winters and hot, dry summers. Although the heat and drought of summer sometimes forces the tree peonies into premature dormancy there, they emerge unchecked the following spring.

The message for gardeners, therefore, is that this race of tree peonies is quite awesomely tolerant of the worst that nature can throw at it. The ideal, says McLewin, is deep, rich, open loam that drains well and a position in sun but where air can circulate freely through the bush. But 'on the whole,' he adds comfortingly, 'any half-decent site will do'. Like herbaceous peonies, tree peonies resent being moved, but early autumn is the safest time to do it. They don't need regular pruning, though dead wood can be cut out if necessary in late spring or early summer.

I've no experience of these Gansu Mudan, but would expect the foliage to be as much of an asset as the flowers. That's certainly the case with a different Chinese tree peony in our garden, P. delavayi, which has small, deep red flowers and handsome, jagged leaves on long stalks. I learnt with this one that it pays to be patient. Ours had to be moved, to accommodate building works. Gradually, after it had been shifted to a new site, all the woody stems died back, but from the base the following year sprang five new shoots of miraculous vigour.

Paeonia delavayi var. delavayi

I think Anna Pavord's "fresh look" sums up the affair nicely, so I feel it was best to not water it down with my interpretation. Though she admits to no personal experience with P. rockii or its hybrids in her own garden, she does reveal that she's familiar with another Chinese species, Paeonia delavayi, which I have also grown. The latter was gifted to me by the same Reuben who initiated this blog. He had a couple of them in his garden so he decided to spare one for me. It was dug one winter and planted in a container at the nursery, to allow it to recover until I could put it into the landscape. I would concur with Pavord that "tree peonies" resent to be moved and my one specimen languished for a few years. It never looked as good as it did in Reuben's yard, so I felt it would probably recover best if I grounded it in real dirt, i.e. the make it or break it strategy. Pavord brags that her plant has "small, deep red flowers and handsome, jagged leaves on long stalks," and so did the specimen in Reuben's garden. But it struggled in my care with undersized, bleached-out flowers that weren't nearly as vibrant as they were before the harvest, plus I experienced plenty of dead wood and scrappy-looking foliage. The photo above is from the tree – post-harvest – and after nearly a decade from the transplant, the flowers still have not regained their deep-red color as before.

Highdown Gardens

The Hillier Manual of Trees and Shrubs (2019) includes Gansu Group under "P. delavayi (P. rockii misapplied)" and lists the close 'Highdown' which Brian Humphrey mentions. Hillier describes 'Highdown': "A name provided for the splendid, floriferous clone with flowers to 20cm across that was planted and still grows at Highdown Gardens, Sussex and has been vegetatively propagated and distributed elsewhere." The Highdown Garden explains itself in Our Story on their website: "Explore the history of a chalk pit transformed by Sir Frederick and Lady Sybil Stern into a National Plant Collection." Your Visit invites you to "Walk in the footsteps of aristocrats, gardeners, jockeys, plant hunters, politicians and even the Royal Family, from 1909 to 1967." Cousin Sir Edward David Stern declared in the 1922 Highdown visitor's book, "East to West, Highdown is best."

Paeonia delavayi var. delavayi f. lutea

Paeonia delavayi var. delavayi f. lutea

One of my horticultural hobbies is to consider what was previously known about a plant, and how that compares with today's knowledge, which importantly includes how its botanical classification might have changed. I have a paperback Hilliers Manual of Trees and Shrubs, 2^nd Edition* – which strangely is devoid of a publication date (but I assume from the early to mid 1970s) – and the early edition declares Paeonia lutea to be "A bold shrub of about 2m, possessing the foliage qualities of P. delavayi, in fact from leaf only they are difficult to tell apart." In the Hillier 9^th edition (2019), science has decided on a nomenclatural change to P. delavayi var. delavayi f. lutea. Well, that's one way you can solve something that's "difficult to tell apart." The f. lutea is a deciduous shrub from Yunnan, China where it can spread over sizable areas, and likewise in our garden it increases lateral territory as the fallen seeds continue to germinate a few inches beyond the perimeter.

*I would give anything to acquire a Hillier first edition, and all the better if it's well-worn and dog-earred with some plantsman's notes scribbled in the margins.

Paeonia ludlowii

Paeonia ludlowii

Paeonia ludlowii

Paeonia ludlowii

Paeonia ludlowii

Paeonia ludlowii

The 1970s Hillier Manual lists ludlowii as a subspecies or variety of Paeonia lutea. The manual is incomplete on that, but following ludlowii, further clarification is suggested with (Sherriff's Variety). In the 2019 edition the ludlowii has been elevated to specific rank, with a botanist D.Y. Hong involved. Maybe the name change was a reverse kow-tow from British botanists to their Chinese colleagues. In any case I prefer the ludlowii species for its larger, loftier architectural structure over the more bushy f. lutea. Hillier describes: "This splendid species, first collected by Kingdon-Ward and subsequently by Ludlow and Sherriff in SE Tibet, has large, golden yellow, saucer-shaped flowers, opening as the large and conspicuous leaves are beginning to expand. Award of Merit 1954." The P. ludlowii pops up all over our garden as nursery squirrels attempt to become horticulturists, or maybe they're just farming for their next meal.

Book of Tree Peonies by Gian Osti

About ten years ago I ordered a number of Paeonia ostii 'Phoenix White' from an Oregon seedling grower to supplement my "everything else" group of plants. Supposedly from China's Gansu and Hunan provinces, the endangered species was first described in 1992 and named after Italian peony expert Dr. Gian Lupo Osti – according to Plant Delights Nursery's website – and the "flower color ranges from white to pale pink…"

Paeonia ostii 'Phoenix White'

Overall, my purchased 'Phoenix White' expressed disappointment with various shades of insipid pink, like when my young daughter threw her new red hoodie into the wash with my white tee shirts. A few shirts…er, peonies appeared wonderfully white, to be sure, but even they cannot be considered true 'Phoenix White', at least by the laws of horticulture. I planted a couple of the puke-pinkers into the landscape at Flora Farm just to get rid of them since they couldn't be sold as named, but I feel remorse when I pass by them, knowing that some customers received fraudulent goods under my watch.

Paeonia mairei

Paeonia mairei

Paeonia mairei

In the previous Flora Wonder Blog, Pere Maire, I revealed that the specific epithet mairei had nothing at all to do with the Veitch Nursery plant-hunter Charles Maries, but rather honored another plant hunter, the French missionary Edouard Ernest Maire. The above photos are from the Rhododendron Species Botanic Garden in Washington state, as the rare species was collected in 1995 by Garden Director Steve Hootman from southwest Sichuan, China. P. mairei is said to be one of the first to flower in spring, and that the blooms are able to withstand some frost. I won't attempt to acquire it because 1) I don't own a nursery or arboretum any more and 2) I'm not particularly fond of the pink-purple blossom color. I suppose it's the history that intrigues me more than does the plant itself.

Personally I don't care for most peonies on the market; they're a bit too gaudy for my taste, where I find the simple species to be more attractive than the hopped-up commercial fare. I feel the same about rhododendrons, roses and other plant genera, as they can become "too" beautiful when nurserymen are involved. About five years ago I visited an Oregon peony nursery, and while I admired a few of their cultivars, many others just appeared over-bred to me. The following are some that I would never want in my garden, especially with their goofy names:

Paeonia 'Angel Cheeks'

Paeonia 'Cherry Ruffles'

Paeonia 'Christmas Velvet'

Paeonia 'Cream Puff'

Paeonia 'Golly'

Paeonia 'Red Grace'

Paeonia 'Shirley Temple'

This blog was accidental in a sense, as I'm the first to admit that I know very little about the genus. I did know that Paeonia is from Greek paionia, from Paion, Paeon, the physician of the gods, its reputed discoverer. I know that it is used in China for medicinal purposes, but then what plant isn't?

Pere Maire

Charles Maries

On April 22, 2024 I posted a blog on Charles Maries (1851-1902) who was employed as a plant hunter in Japan and China for the old Veitch Nursery firm. I confessed that I grew a Mhonia mairei that I long assumed was named for Charles Maries, but further investigation yielded no connection between the Mahonia and the Veitch collector. I ended the blog hoping that a reader could set me straight, but no smarty-pants came forward.

Paeonia mairei

Paeonia mairei

Finally, I think the mystery was solved when I was doing a little Paeonia research. I was enlightened to remember that I had seen a P. mairei at the Rhododendron Species Botanic Garden, a rare plant that Director Steve Hootman collected himself in 1995 "while exploring a deep ravine full of wonderous plants…at the Daliang Shan of southern Sichuan." Both the Paeonia and Mahonia were named in honor of the French missionary Pere Edouard-Ernest Maire who discovered it in 1913 in northeastern Yunnan. I'll copy the Cultivation notes found in Wikipedia: "Paeonia mairei has only recently become available as an ornamental outside of China. It is reported to be the first of the herbaceous peonies to bloom, and recover well from morning frost."

Edouard Ernest Maire

Maire (1848-1932) was a French missionary and plant collector (yet another) in China, and was promoted to Pro-Vicar Apostolic of Yunnan. Converting the Chinese heathens to Christianity seems like a fool's errand in hind-sight, but apparently with sufficient time on their hands the Servants of God were able to collect flora and fauna to send back to French scientific institutions. Adrien Franchet was the botanist in the right place at the right time at the Paris Museum of Natural History, and he made a distinguished career by processing the thousands of specimens sent from the likes of Armand David, Paul Farges, Jean Marie Delavay, Edouard Maire and others. Maire was epithetically honored with Nemachris mairei, Primula mairei, Sedum mairei, Epipactis mairei, Alnus mairei and Fargesia mairei in addition to the Paeonia and Mahonia that bear his name.

Stella Maris

There is scant information on Father Maire, whether or not he converted anyone in his 60 years of service, but we can certainly thank him for some wonderful plant discoveries. His body rests in peace, we hope, in Yunnan, China. Maire's name is Irish, where the "i" comes before the "r," and it is pronounced "Mer-ha," where the "ha" is barely perceptible. The name originates from the Latinized Stella Maris for "Star of the Sea," as the Virgin Mary provides a guiding light and is a calmer of storms. Stella Maris also refers to the North Star which aids the Sailor's navigation because it remains fixed in the sky. Similarly, Mary remains firm in heaven helping to guide souls and offering her protection.

Sons of Veitches, Part 2

The previous Flora Wonder Blog, Sons of Veitches, Part 1, discussed the English Nursery firm of Veitch and Sons, and in particular its publication in 1881, A Manual of Coniferae. The company was founded by Scotsman John Veitch (1752-1832) and reached prominence in Europe which lasted into the 20^th century...until it was largely undone by the consequences of the Great War (WWI). The Manual's purpose was to educate the gardening public about the history of conifer introductions, as well as a guide to their classifications and uses, both for commercial and for aesthetic applications. It also served as a boast from the company at the forefront of horticulture, that Veitch Nursery was in a position to produce a comprehensive manual that dispensed horticultural experience and knowledge to accompany their exotic plants.

John Gould Veitch

I left off from the previous F.W. Blog with plant portraits, where I compared the Veitch perspective in 1881 with my own as a wholesale nurseryman a century later. But before I continue with more of that I wish to champion one of the company's great “travelers,” John Gould Veitch, the great grandson of the founder of the horticulture dynasty. He was a “pretty boy” at first appearance, despite his prodigious, wooly sideburns, but he displayed his mettle and proved his value to horticulture with the introduction of numerous species that he collected at the front-lines of hardship...namely in Japan, the Philippines, Australia, Fiji and other islands. J.G. and other Veitch collectors (“travelers”) introduced to horticulture 232 orchids, 118 ferns, 50 conifers, 153 deciduous trees and much more. I didn't want to imply that J.G. was a physical wimp (no matter how I judged his looks) because he and Rutherford Alcock climbed the sacred Mount Fuji in heavy rain. At the summit they behaved typically British by raising the Union Jack on a make-shift pole, firing a twenty-one gun salute; and as Sue Shephard puts it in her Seeds of Dynasty, they drank “to the health of Her Most Gracious Majesty and shouting 'God Save the Queen.' Then they descended in a 'thick Scotch mist.'” After J.G. returned to England he married Jane Hodge and fathered two sons, but sadly he died of tuberculosis at the age of 31.

Cryptomeria japonica 'Elegans'

Cryptomeria japonica 'Elegans'

On the Fuji-san trip J.G. Veitch discovered a new variety of the Japanese sugi, Cryptomeria japonica var. elegans, which we now know as the cultivar 'Elegans' or Elegans Group. I bring up that plant as an example where the early collectors were actually introducing selected Japanese forms, varieties or cultivars. Philipp von Siebold, after all, is credited with introducing the Japanese selection, Acer japonicum var. aureum – later to be reclassified as A. shirasawanum 'Aureum'. J.G. greatly admired the refined skill the Japanese exhibited in horticulture, and their gardens and temples featured conifers, maples, azaleas and magnolias, perhaps with a waterfall and rockwork blended in. Tastefully natural, without the garden-formality popular in Europe at the time. According to Shephard, “Plants were brought from many parts of the country and high prices were often paid for rare specimens.” Veitch and the other collectors had no qualms about collecting from the fruits of Japanese labor and creativity, then receiving credit and making profit back home for their “introductions.”

Pinus densiflora

Pinus densiflora

Of the fifty-some conifers that Veitch Nursery introduced to Europe, Pinus densiflora, the “red-bark pine,” was an important species for horticulture, and Buchholz Nursery has long been growing some of the dwarf varieties. The specific epithet means “densely-flowered,” and though the pine does not produce real “flowers” in the botanical sense, a mature specimen will be packed with numerous small cones. In Veitch's A Manual of Conifers, mention is made about the “needle count” per each species. No, not the total number of needles that grow on a particular tree, rather the number of needles per fascicle, the sheath bundle that's attached to the woody stem. On page 141 of the Manual we read, “The Pines include more species [world-wide] than any other genus in the Order, and are distributed over a greater geographical area. The Pines admit a division into three Sections, according to the number of leaves in a sheath, thus –

“1. Binae, with two leaves in each sheath” [as in P. densiflora].

“2. Ternae, with three leaves in each sheath” [as in P. bungeana].

“3. Quinae, with five leaves in each sheath” [as in P. parviflora].

“We [Veitch] adopt this Sectional Division on account of its obvious simplicity, and as being that most available for practical uses. The true affinities of the Pines will be sought for in the fruitification, to which the number of leaves in a sheath can only be regarded as a subordinate character.”

Ginkgo biloba

Ginkgo biloba

I was curious how Veitch would describe Ginkgo biloba, so I was reassured that they correctly included it into the Manual of Coniferae. I consider that quite an astute observation for 1881, especially since whenever I mention Ginkgo being a member of the Coniferae to my modern plant friends, they usually look at me like I've totally lost my senses. Even the Manual feels the need to explain: “So greatly does the Maiden-Hair Tree differ from all other coniferous trees, that its affinity to them would scarcely be suspected on superficial inspection.” In 1881 Veitch considered Ginkgo to be a Taxad, i.e. a member of the Taxaceae family, though quite different. Veitch concludes: “An examination of the flowers, and especially of the fruit, and comparing them with the same parts of the common yew, will show, however, that the Ginkgo belongs to the same tribe, although an isolated member of it.” When put that way the affinity seem logical to this simple nurseryman, but today, of course, Ginkgo is placed in its own Ginkgoaceae family.

Ginkgo biloba

Ginkgo biloba

Ginkgo biloba

A factual lapse occurs in the Manual where Ginkgo is said to be the Chinese name, meaning “deciduous.” My Japanese wife's brow furrowed and a guttural scoff followed. “Who says so?!” – she demanded. I answered, “Veitch,” which meant nothing to her, but then she wasn't aware that Veitch has been primary on my mind for the past week or so. She took the error personally, I think, especially since a ginkgo leaf is the official city emblem of her home-town, Tokyo. The monotypic genus was first described to the West by Engelbert Kaempfer in his book Amoenitatum Exoticarum, but he misspelled the name. The Japanese pronunciation “gin kyo,” meaning “silver apricot,” is found in Chinese herbology literature, which verifies the original name meaning. Veitch is correct when he speculated that the Japanese common name of ginkgo is itcho, but too bad that J.G. and the other Sons were not privy to some of the plant-name assignments I delegate to my Japanese wife. Haruko reports that ginkgo became a food commodity in the 14^th century, and was traded on the market as if money. It can also be spelled Ichou; and with its origin from China it means “Duck-Foot tree.”

Ginkgo fossil from North Dakota, Age 64 million years

Veitch defers to Louden in the Manual, adopting the claim of a “Northern China” ginkgo habitat, but no evidence or explanation is given. I won't delve into more modern research into any “wild-state” origin for ginkgo at this time, but I'm confident that the facts will prevail at some point, probably in the near future. The Ginkgo genus has existed on Earth in the form of various species for approximately 250 million years, but I feel that we are just beginning to document its full story, and I wish I could be around for the conclusion.

Big-Leaf Ginkgo from Buchholz Nursery

Ginkgo biloba 'Majestic Butterfly'

The Veitch Manual (1881) mentions a Ginkgo biloba var. macrophylla, and the 1900 2^nd edition repeats the claim, but I've never seen it reported since or elsewhere. Veitch speculates that var. macrophylla “has much larger leaves than the type...often measuring from 5 to 6 inches across.” The edges of the nerves of the big-leaf form were supposedly “more jagged, and radiated from the petiole more prominently than in the species.” Supposedly, “This fine variety originated at Avignon, in France, about the year 1850.” I have also witnessed huge gingko leaves, even more than “5-to-6 inches across,” for example on suckering rootstock when the scion-top has been cut off, so maybe the Avignonians were describing such an occurrence. Also interesting is that the Manual, 2^nd edition (19 years later) presents two cultivars (or varieties): 1) pendula with “more or less pendulous branches” and 2) variegata, with leaves blotched and streaked with pale yellow.” Veitch dismisses both, “where the weeping habit of the pendula adds nothing to the beauty of the normal form, but rather detracts from it,” and with variegata having “indistinct colouring.” In my career I have seen spectacularly variegated Ginkgo selections, except that they are not permanently stable (for me). Also I have seen and have dabbled with a few “arching” forms, but I have never encountered a strictly weeping selection, such as we have for Acer palmatum 'Golden Falls', Fagus sylvatica 'Purpurea Pendula' and many others.

Abies bracteata

Abies bracteata

Abies bracteata

The Veitch Manual gives considerable attention to Abies bracteata, the American “Bristle-Cone fir,” and the text reads: “Abies bracteata is one of the most remarkable of the Californian Silver Firs.” Added gravitas is supplied by Sir William Hooker who wrote in 1853, shortly after the species introduction in England: “The present subject is among the most remarkable of all the true Pines, particularly in the nature of its cones. Dr. Coulter first discovered it on the Andes of Santa Lucia, a mountain range running parallel to the coast. [David] Douglas met with it at 6,000 feet of elevation...* These botanists [Coulter and Douglas] both failed to bring home perfect seeds, and it was left for William Lobb, Messrs. Veitch's indefatigable American collector** to succeed in this.” In Hortus Veitchii, published later in 1906, Hooker continued: “Perhaps the introduction of no Conifer, not even that of the Deodar, has excited a more lively interest in horticulture and arboriculture than that of the present species with its porcupine fruits.” A full page drawing of a specimen growing at Tortworth Court appears on page 91, and Veitch lists it at 29 feet tall in 1881, and on the next page is a drawing of the cone itself, “natural size,” with a hundred-or-so upward curving bristles. The drawing is somewhat fanciful, for I've never seen a cone with such numerous and perfectly arranged bracts, but I can accept it because in reality the cone is more amazing when examined in hand than the artist's depiction of it. Lobb speaks for himself: “This beautiful and singular tree forms here (he writes from the Californian forests) the most conspicuous ornament of the arborescent vegetation...the cones are quite as singular as the growth of the tree is beautiful...When fully developed, the scales, as well as the long leaf-like bracts, are covered with globules of thin transparent resin, presenting to the eye a curious and striking object.” My wife Haruko attempted to preserve a cone for me by baking and varnishing it – instructions are available on the internet. It sat intact on a shelf for a decade where I enjoyed its weirdness, but when it came time to move it from the Flora Farm house to our new home it fell apart in my hand, but thanks for the memories.

*In George Gordon's “synopsis of all the coniferous plants at present known...,” called The Pinetum, published in London in 1858, he claims that it was first discovered by David Douglas on the “mountains along the Columbia River.” Of course, it was not. Afterwards, Gordon claims, it was seen by Dr. Coulter and Hartweg in the Santa Lucia Mountains—it was.

Imagine my surprise when the spring 2006 publication of American Forests, in an issue describing “champion trees”--and promoting the discovery of new champions—claimed that the Bristlecone Fir could be found in Oregon, as well as Colorado and Idaho! If I thought I could see Abies bracteata in Oregon or anywhere else, I would instantly drop everything and make the pilgrimage. I wrote to American Forests for an explanation of the goof, then again without response. Disgusted, I never renewed my subscription.

**Concerning Veitch's “indefatigable American collector,” William Lobb was initially praised and appreciated...until he eventually grew...fatigued. His output dwindled and his correspondence faltered in his later years, and upon his death in a San Francisco hospital, alone and abandoned, he had no mourners at his burial in a public plot. The official cause of death was “by paralysis” which was probably a euphemism for syphilis.

Abies bracteata 'Corbin'

Abies bracteata 'Corbin'

I have grown Abies bracteata for most of my career, but I admit that sales were never strong for the USDA zone 6-7 species, though it has always been valued by West Coast, USA specialty retail nurseries. All of the trees that I supplied were grafts from one scion source: from Dr. Corbin's Portland, Oregon specimen, and he was delighted as a plant friend that I could find at least some commercial success with it. We identify our crops with the cultivar-like designation of Abies bractaeta 'Corbin'...where I use the single quotes even though the late Dr. Corbin's tree was similar to the type. Let's just say that it was particularly happy in his landscape. I may never see it again, for upon the deaths of Dr. and Mrs. Corbin I lost access to the garden, and the current owners of the property would probably have no interest for this rustic nurseryman to wander through their valuable landscape.

Sciadopitys verticillata

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Fatso'

Sciadopitys verticillata (Koya maki) is the “Umbrella Pine” of Japan. According to the Veitch Manual, it was first studied by Thunberg in 1784 “who described it as a species of Yew. It's true character was determined by Siebold, many years afterwards, and who gave it its scientific name, which is a literal translation of the popular name.” The genus name Sciadopitys is derived from skias, or skiados for “a parasol” and pitys for “pine tree.” The specific epithet verticillata comes from the Latin word meaning “whorled”.

Distribution of Sciadopitys in Japan, Source: GBIF (2021)

Sciadopitys was first introduced into England by Thomas Lobb in 1853, then later more extensively by J.G. Veitch and Robert Fortune – yes, the latter two were rivals. It's curious how Thomas Lobb is credited with the first introduction of Sciadopytis, especially since he never stepped foot in Japan. Lobb obtained one plant from the garden of the Dutch Governor of Java and forwarded it to his English employer, however it died soon thereafter. The Manual recounts, “Cones and seeds were sent home eight years later [after Lobb] by Mr. J.G. Veitch, from which some of the finest specimens in England were raised.” In 1881 Veitch was already worrying about the conifer's future in its native land due to its “restricted habitat and comparative paucity of numbers.” Since Veitch claimed that Sciadopitys was found wild only in one locality, and in proximity to a dense population...”It will doubtless be preserved indefinitely by the hand of horticulturalists, on whom alone the perpetuation of the tree will ultimately depend.” Now we know it is distributed more widely than Veitch supposed, from Fukushima in northern Honshu, south to Shikoku and even into mid-eastern Kyushu Island, but still it is sparsely populated.

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Gold Rush'

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Green Star'

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Mr. Happy'

Sciadopitys verticillata 'Mr. Happy'

At Buchholz Nursery we have experienced mixed results with propagating and growing the species over the four decades of my career, but if it wasn't so interesting and beautiful we should have quit it long ago. Raising seedlings is extremely slow, and one must monitor the process constantly to avoid disease (usually caused by overwatering). Propagation by rooted cuttings occupied us for 25-30 years, and we were always thrilled if 40-50% succeeded. However, once the grower achieves a pencil-sized, healthy rootstock, the grafting of selected cultivars is usually over 90% successful. Needless to say, sales of Sciadopitys cultivars such as 'Mr. Happy', 'Gold Rush', 'Green Star' and many others always command high prices.

Flora Wonder Arboretum

I could continue much longer with plant portraits from Veitch's A Manual of Coniferae, but I'll spare the reader as is. All of the plants I have collected or grown formed a family – usually happy, but not always – a special place of diversity and inclusion known as the Flora Wonder Arboretum. Yes, the family trees communicate with each other, while I attempt to decipher their language. Every plant has a story – its history, and Veitch Nursery was involved with a great many floral tales.