The "Fun' of Collecting Anemones, II.— By wilhelm Mill 



THE "GARDEN WINDFLOWERS," WHICH GLORIFY THE FORTNIGHT BETWEEN SPRING 

 AND SUMMER AND ARE PARTICULARLY FAMOUS FOR THEIR GORGEOUS REDS AND BLUES 



~«. New 

 CI, York 



(Editor's Note — The " Fun of Collecting " series is designed especially for beginners who would like to become experts, 

 collecting, instead of airing botanical pedantry.) 



It explains the pleasures and methods of 



T^OR the love of Heaven," writes a 

 *■ Chicago enthusiast, "tell us how 

 to grow garden anemones! Ever since 

 I saw them growing wild by the million 

 in the Riviera I have bought the tubers 

 every fall, but they are the meanest roots 

 I ever saw. I can never tell which side 

 is right side up. But surely no one can 

 possibly get them all upside down! Why, 

 then, do I never get a flower?" 



This is one of the most fascinating 

 problems that any lover of gardening can 

 take up, for the garden anemones are 

 probably the most gorgeous flowers that 

 come between the tulips and the poppies, 

 and although they are very much admired 

 in England they are practically unknown 

 in America. Indeed, I must confess that 

 I have never seen a good bed of them in 

 the United States. They grow about a 

 foot high, and have saucer-shaped or starry 

 flowers, about two inches across, in every 

 important color save yellow. The flowers 

 are set off by delicately cut foliage, and 

 they are particularly beautiful when stirred 

 by the wind. No tulip or poppy has a 

 purer or more vivid scarlet. No larkspur 

 or aster has a richer blue. And, to cap 

 the interest, they are probably the originals 

 of the "rose of Sharon." 



Thousands of Americans who have taken 

 the winter cruise to the Mediterranean 

 have been enchanted with these flaming 

 wild flowers in the Holy Land, where they 

 completely carpet the Plain of Sharon. 

 The prevailing color there is a deep red, 

 and there is another famous flower so 

 much like it that tourists dp not distin- 

 guish it, and it is doubtful whether the 

 Bible does. This other flower is the 

 Asiatic buttercup (Ranunculus Asiaticus) , 

 which has given rise to the Persian and 

 turban ranunculuses, equally celebrated 

 in European gardens and unknown in 

 America. In the gardens they are dif- 

 ferent enough because the Anemone never 

 has a good yellow and the Ranunculus 

 never has a good blue. But if you go to 

 Palestine next March you will find the 

 wild originals nearly the same shade of 

 red, and you can distinguish them by the 

 involucre which is present in Ranunculus 

 but absent in Anemone. The best account 

 of these wild flowers that I know of was 

 written to the Gardeners' 1 Chronicle for 

 April 28, 1906, by Mr. Arthur W. Sutton, 

 who says that "the apparently endless 

 variety of flowers present a spectacle 

 which I suppose cannot be surpassed 

 elsewhere in the world." He also states 

 that on Mt. Carmel the anemones are 

 often four inches across. 



The mystery of countless failures in 



America with these two famous flowers is 

 easily explained by climate. In the Holy 

 Land they bloom in March and April 

 after a dry winter. It is the spring rains 

 and spring heat that make the desert 

 blossom like the rose. Then comes the 

 hot summer sun and the flowers vanish. 

 Under such conditions flowers are gen- 

 erally bulbous. But in America we have 

 rain both in winter and summer, which is 

 very distracting to a poor bulb or tuber 

 that has settled itself for a long winter's 

 nap. 



In California and the Southwest the 

 anemones ought to do well, but east 

 of that they are betrayed by November 

 rains, or winter warm spells, into making 

 a premature growth, which is infallibly 

 nipped by the next hard freeze. And 

 in the summer, when they ought to be 

 ripening their tubers, this all-important 

 process is delayed or partially thwarted 

 by summer rains. It is too bad the 

 climates do not gibe, for these anemones 

 can never become universal favorites here, 

 as they are in Europe. And, as luck 

 will have it, the great buttercup family 

 reaches its climax, from the garden point 

 of view, in these highly bred descendants 

 of the rose of Sharon. 



But what discourages the beginner is 

 a joyous challenge to the lover of garden- 

 ing who has had some experience. The 

 problem is essentially the same as with 

 the cushion and bearded irises from the 

 Holy Land. Millions of words have been 

 written on it, but it all boils down to this 

 — how to keep the roots dry in summer 

 and winter, but let them grow in spring. 

 No ideal solution has been invented. 

 The standard way out of the difficulty 

 is to grow them in coldframes, and after 

 blooming time lift the bulbs, dry them 

 in a shady place, and replant them in the 

 autumn. 



Unfortunately, flowers in coldframes 

 look like prisoners, and those who have 

 the finest taste in pictorial effects put 

 portable frames over their beds of 

 cushion irises so that they may bloom 

 right in the garden when the time comes. 

 This trick is highly successful with ixias, 

 and I should like to see it tried with a bed 

 of scarlet or blue anemones. Any one 

 who wants to have something unique 

 in America, and set all the garden 

 lovers in this country to wagging their 

 tongues, ought to try this, and if he 

 succeeds he ought to have a color pho- 

 tograph made as permanent record of his 

 success. 



The best directions for cultivating these 

 flowers are given in "The English Flower 



294 



Garden." Plant the tubers in October 

 or November, setting them two or three 

 inches deep and six or eight inches apart. 

 The soil must be light, rich, warm, and 

 well drained, as the roots perish over 

 winter in heavy clay or in any soil where 

 water is stagnant. Select a spot that is 

 protected from cutting winds, as the 

 foliage is easily ruined in early spring. 

 Cover with a mound of ashes to shed the 

 rain, and over the ashes put enough long 

 manure or litter to keep out frost. Manage 

 the covering so as to get a late and hardy 

 growth. During the growing season never 

 let the plants get dry or they will not flower 

 that year. Shade them during the hottest 

 part of the day. After blooming, lift the 

 tubers, ripen them thoroughly, and store 

 in dry sand until fall. 



The most artistic way to use anemones 

 is to have a rectangular bed of blue, an- 

 other of scarlet, another of white, etc. 

 In England they can be grown in hardy 

 borders, either singly or in clumps, but 

 I dare not recommend this practice here. 

 Another pretty scheme is to use them for 

 edgings, especially of rose beds. In rock 

 gardens they are said to look well, and there, 

 if anywhere, the tubers might be left in 

 the ground permanently. For spring bed- 

 ding they are as unsuitable as the English 

 irises, because they bloom so late as 

 to interfere with summer bedding. Mr. 

 Sydenham thinks that the colors are 

 "infinitely better mixed," but the general 

 opinion is that a bed should be only one 

 color, and the common practice is to put 

 each color in a bed by itself. Gardeners 

 take a good deal of pains to select and 

 keep true only the best forms, largest 

 flowers, and brightest colors. 



But it is as a cut flower that the anemone 

 is most famous. Before the winter bloom- 

 ing carnation came, the anemone and ran- 

 unculus were florists' flowers of high 

 standing. To appreciate this the student 

 should see dozens of colored plates pub- 

 lished in The Florist (London, 1840 to 

 1884 ) during the first two decades of 

 which the standards of perfection in such 

 flowers were the most exacting the world 

 has ever known. Anemones were then 

 in demand practically the year round. 

 To this day they are occasionally forced 

 for March bloom, and the English people 

 can have these flowers outdoors from 

 spring to fall without a break. The 

 winters are so mild that they can usually 

 plant the tubers every month from Sep- 

 tember to April. By spring, however, 

 the vitality of the tubers is considerably 

 reduced. Experts declare they can raise 

 anemones from seed as easily as annuals, 



