Summary: Do not overlook the small miniature bulbs – they will add charm to your garden. Find out how.
Man has always been impressed by the large and showy – and fallen in love with the small and charming. The stately lily may receive much admiration, but it is the tiny hoop-petticoat daffodil that brings him to his knees. The “butter man” may ignore the elegant tree peonies in our yard but be stopped by the tiny blue-and-white-striped tassels of Puschkinia scilloides.
Impatient children may gather a bouquet of giant daffodils, thrust it at you with a “Here!” and run off to play, but when they discover the upturned faces of the spring star-flower, Ipheion uniflorum, they will ask “May we pick just a few?” and carefully put them in water themselves. These they treat like little jewels.
Miniature Bulbs – Jewels of the Garden
And that is what they are, these miniature bulbs, jewels of the garden – stored all winter in Earth’s safe deposit vaults and brought out on Nature’s most special occasions. When one of these jewels appears, it is a special occasion. What is more exciting than the first snowdrops, galanthus, opening in midwinter, perhaps under a sheet of ice, like a Victorian posy under glass? The flowers open close to the ground, and as the stems grow taller the fragile white bells swing in the cold winds for weeks on end. Galanthus niralis and G. elwesi have similar flowers, but G. elwesi is a bit stronger and has more luxuriant foliage.
There are almost always snowdrops for Christmas in our New Jersey garden; if the winter is mild, they may even appear in November. We often have three whole months of bloom as some bulbs are planted in the warmest, most protected bed – between the flagstone terrace and the house – some in a warm but less protected place and some in the cool half-shade under the hedge. Before one clump of snowdrops finishes, another begins.
This method of prolonging enjoyment can be followed with many of the hardy bulbs but not with the bulbous iris, which require a sun-baked spot. These iris seldom increase and may even vanish, but you’ll want to replace them if the vivid blue-and-orange Iris histrioides, yellow Iris danfordiae, purple-and-yellow Iris reticulata or pale blue-and-gold Iris reticulata cantab ever graced your March garden. Iris tuberosa (Hermodactylus tuberosus) does not bloom until much later, but it is a real collector’s item – a gem of apple-green silk with a splash of black velvet on the sharply recurving claw.
Plant Eranthis Early
Even earlier than I. histriodes is the winter aconite, golden Eranthis hyemalis, which looks like a grown-up buttercup with a frilly green ruff. E. tubergeni has true yellow flowers which are twice as large and last much longer; E. cilicica, with bronzed foliage, comes later. Beg some eranthis from a friend who has it and transplant it while in bloom. It seeds itself, so you will soon have a colony. If you buy eranthis from a grower, try to obtain the bulbs as soon as possible after blooming. They are like small uneven pebbles and dry out very quickly. If eranthis is not planted until late fall, a loss of about 50 per cent can be expected. Some gardeners say this is true of other small bulbs such as galanthus, but we have found only eranthis so affected.
Crocus Galore
Since its leaves come directly below the flower head, winter aconite should not be picked, but any of the species crocus, which come up about the same time, may be picked – in the bud, of course – and enjoyed indoors. The earliest is C. susianus, golden yellow with a bronze coat. This crocus is sometimes called “Cloth of Gold,” although the same name has been applied to the pure yellow C. moesiacus. C. chrysanthus has white, white-with-blue and yellow varieties. We particularly like C. chrysanthuss. Under a lamp in the evening its bright yellow petals and red pistil seem like a live fire in a golden chalice. Pale lavender C. tomasinianus and the common white to purple C. vernus also have flaming anthers and pistils but the thick clusters of yellow crocus, like drops of molten gold, give us the biggest thrill.
Although the species crocus appear exceptionally delicate in comparison with the large hybrid crocus, these sturdy crocus are excellent for mass plantings. Most effective is Excelsior, ageratum blue with a glowing orange pistil, and the largest of all. Avoid a spotty effect; plant only one color, or in planned drifts.
Increasing Crocus
Crocus will increase both by bulb and seed if given the chance. Unless you want them to diminish and finally disappear, do not plant them in grass or under any groundcover. (Fritillaria meleagris seems to be the only bulb which likes a groundcover.) The leaves of the miniature bulbs may be cut when the grass is mowed; groundcovers absorb nutrients the bulbs need and keep their seeds from rooting. Plant crocus in a rock garden or under deciduous trees or shrubs where they will have plenty of sun during the winter and early spring and can be easily kept free of grass and weeds.
When they are through blooming, feed them, as you do all bulbs, to stimulate leaf growth. We use 3 parts compost and 3 parts bonemeal, adding 1 part superphosphate to the mixture every other year. Then, in the fall, when the seeds have fallen to the ground and have started to sprout, sprinkle them with a mixture of screened compost in which there is lime and superphosphate, plus bone flour, which is quicker than bone-meal, fine peatmoss and sand. This covers the seedling’s, feeds them and keeps them moist. Now, watch your crocus increase as never before! Given this same treatment, other bulbs which seed themselves thrive, too: galanthus, eranthis, some muscaris, Scilla sibirica, Scilla bifolia and chionodoxa.
Scraps of Sky
Chionodoxa luciliae turns up its sweet blue-and-white face to be admired, as do lilac-blue C. gigantea and the rarer C. luciliae alba and C. luciliae rosea, but they try in vain to steal the spring show from modest Scilla bifolia, with its clustered flowers like tiny scraps of the bluest sky. Scilla sibirica, the blue squill, and S. sibirica alba bloom later. A hundred of each of these lovely miniatures is a taste of heaven.
Fluffy blue-and-white-striped Muscuri azureum (or Hyacinthus azureus) is the leader of the muscari parade. Crowding after it come M. botryoides, the old-fashioned grape hyacinth, and M. botryoides album, which goes by the beautiful name of “Pearls of Spain.” M. armeniacum is larger and a little later; Bluebird is slightly lighter in color; M. latifolium is two-toned, light blue at the top and almost black at the bottom; M. paradoxum has carved bells of a dark slaty blue with a gray bloom; and M. moschatum has a faintly musky fragrance and light green bells with forget-me-not-shaped tips. lifted invitingly for one to sniff. M. plumosum, ostrich feather, does not bloom until late in May, but even with all the competition in the garden at that time, it attracts the most interest with its feather plume of irridescent roseviolet-blue. The first four muscuris named above spread rapidly; the others do not.
Some Early Narcissus
Read – Small Treasures for Your Garden where Narcissus & Daffodils are discussed in more detail…
M. botryoides and its friends bloom with the large daffodils, in rich contrast with their whites and yellows. The narcissus family is often represented long before the first crocus. A clump of Narcissus minimus may start to bloom about the middle of February and continue until the first of April. Bright yellow N. cyclamineus, with its long nose and rabbit ears, follows on the heels of N. minimus. The flowers last quite well, but N. cyclamineus does not keep blooming as does the exquisite N. triandrus, Angels’-Tears. These open long before the large narcissus and are usually still blooming when they are gone.
The hoop-petticoat daffodil, N. bulbocodium, is a welcome spring harbinger. The little cream trumpet W. P. Milner ushers in the season of the giant daffodils, bashfully hanging its head before their bold beauty. The jonquils, blooming in the midst of the show, hold up their golden heads in pride, perfuming the air with their half-narcissus, half-gardenia fragrance. N. j. simplex is usually single but sometimes has two or three flowers on a stem, while N. j. campernelle and N. j. gracillis have three or four per stem. N. j. gracillis comes at the end of the season; it bloomed this year in our garden until the first of June.
The first members of the tulip family to appear are also miniatures. The first is the many-flowered, starry white T. turkestanica; then yellow-centered T. tarda (T. dasystemon), its white petals green-striped; and finally the pink-andwhite “candy tulip,” T. clusiana, and lemon yellow T. sylvestris (florentina odorata) the most fragrant of all. These tulips, especially T. sylvestris, will stay and increase if they are happy where they are planted.
Any of these plants needs proper care to do its best. Sometimes it is a question of too much moisture or too little; too much sun or not enough. Soil is important. too. To be right for most miniature bulbs, even a light, loamy soil needs a great deal of coal ash added. Ash from a motor stoker is perfect; ordinary coal ash must be sifted.
There is no use in planting the trout erythronium, at all if not in a real woods soil, or one mixed to resemble it. We have found a mixture of woods soil, compost, sand and peatmoss successful. Our labors seem well repaid when we see the delicate lavender, rose and yellow flowers, with their glossy, bronzed foliage, blooming happily under the dogwood trees.
The Delightful Bloodroot
Another delightful small garden member, the bloodroot, Sanguinaria canadensis, belongs to the poppy family. The leaf appears first, early in spring. protectively curled around the flower bud like a curved shield. It is said the leaves spread open to a width of 12 incites nit in our garden they have never reached that size. The flowers are usually white, although some may have a pink tinge. The variety multiplex is a double form. Of extra interest is the red juice or sap which may be seen whenever the plant is nicked.
You will not want to be without a bed of spring star-flowers; either the blue or the white form is delightful. In northern New Jersey star-flower sends up foliage in early December and blooms after snowy or dry winters.
Star-Flower Names
According to the January 1950 issue of The National Horticultural Magazine, the spring star-flower now holds the botanical name given to it in 1837, Ipheion uniflorum, although it has had eight altogether. You may know it as Triteleia uniflora, which was the name it first had in 1830, or Millsuniflora, named for a gardener at the Spanish court, or Brodiaea uniflora, named after a Scotch cipher expert. Its other names include Leucocoryne uniflora, Hookera uniflora, Nothoscordum unillorum and Beauverdia uniflora.
If you are uncertain about the proper location for a new plant. try it in two or even three different places; then change any groups that didn’t do well to a spot near the ones that prospered. Once the right place is found for a plant such as the bell-shaped fritillaria, leave it alone, especially the very early yellow F. pudica and the sulphur yellow F. pallidiflora. with its purpIe-spotted heart. F. meleagris. the checkered lily, and F. nt. alba can more easily he moved if it is absolutely necessary.
Don’t be discouraged if some of your miniature bulbs don’t give a lot of bloom the first year. It may take them more than one year to get established; then they should start increasing. Ornithogalums do increase, so be careful where you plant them. But who would want to he without the Star of Bethlehem. 0. umbellatum, gleaming in a shady corner, or nodding 0. nutans? Borne seven to nine on a stem, its wide-open, starry flowers arc apple green, outlined in white and as shimmering as taffeta.
Other Small Treasures
Perhaps beside them, even Scilla hispanica. (S. campanulata), with its lovely rose. blue and white forms, may pale. Yet the white, green-touched bells of Leucojuin aestivum, dainty as the snowflake for which it is named, can hold their own against all challengers. L. vernuin is earlier, larger flowered but shorter; it does not bloom as long or increase as rapidly. Nor does Allium moly, with its clusters of yellow stars, need fear competition. And last hut not least, do noi pass by the true hyacinth. H. amethystinus. Its tiny blue-and-white bells are like those, of lily-of-the-valley.
by M Rowley – 62928
