Kari-Astri Davies sings the praises of heritage tulips; ponders saxifrage choices; moves on poppies; and sows umbellifers
IT IS A lean year for the quince and apple trees, which are seemingly taking a ‘rest’ after last year’s bumper crops. It will be a sparse larder for returning fieldfares later on. The time has come to move our two chickens in from the field to their sheltered winter garden quarters before autumn gales bowl them around their pen to result in disgruntled balls of wind-ruffled feathers.
Last autumn, out of curiosity, I bought a small number of ‘historical’ tulips – most of which are grown in the Netherlands by the Hortus Bulborum, which started as a private collection in 1924 to preserve older cultivars. Sourced from their UK suppliers, the ‘precious’ bulbs – they are not cheap – were planted into deep clematis pots in gritted, peat-free compost.
The earliest ‘historical’ tulip to flower – dating to 1760 – was shortish, striped red and white ‘Silver Standard’. It is reminiscent of the fancy, and very expensive, tulips which appear in Dutch flower paintings of the 17th century.
My favourite was a younger ‘oldie’ from 1926: the later-flowering ‘Mrs. Harold I. Pratt’, with a large, goblet-shaped flower; silvered, old rose outside; and stippled with warm sand and pink tones inside. It was named after Harriet Pratt; an influential American amateur gardener, married to an oil millionaire. UK automobilia collectors will no doubt be familiar with Pratt’s oil cans.
I don’t often save tulip bulbs year-to-year, so an interesting surprise for me was ‘Bleu Aimable’. The petals on a couple had ‘broken’ into dramatic, deep-purple and white striations. Breaking is caused by a virus, which separates the petal pigmentation: unfortunately, it also weakens the bulbs.
‘Queen of Night’ is on the list of bulbs for autumn planting. In spring, her petals brought to mind the rich lustre of a horse’s summer coat. This year, she was paired with the earlier-flowering ‘Pink Ardour’. I might try her with ‘Orange Emperor’ for a bit of ‘pop’ and scent, although he’s probably too short: the taller, unscented ‘Avignon’ may work better.
Another on the list is ‘Belicia’. A cream double, with pink-edged petals, the flowers morph, becoming blousier and more pink-suffused over a number of weeks. ‘Groenland’ is a further choice: single, late and long-blooming,
