What’s blooming in my yard, looking north: Fragrant catalpa, Dr Huey and miniature roses, red hot poker, golden-spur columbine, hartweg, butterfly weed, Mexican hat, chocolate flower, coreopsis, blanket flower, anthemis, black-eyed Susan, Moonshine and Parker’s Gold yarrow; buds on mums.
Looking east: Floribunda roses, California and Shirley poppies, hollyhock, winecup, sidalcea, coral bells, cheddar pinks, bouncing Bess, snow-in-summer, sea pink, Jupiter’s beard, snapdragons, coral beardtongue, Maltese cross, rock rose, pink evening primrose, pink salvia, Mount Atlas daisy; buds on tomatillo.
Looking south: Pasture, blaze, rugosa and rugosa hybrid roses, daylily, sweet pea; buds on zinnias; raspberries edible.
Looking west: Flax, catmint, Rumanian sage, white beardtongue, white spurge, white mullein, perennial four o’clock; buds on Shasta daisy and sea lavender.
Bedding plants: Moss rose, sweet alyssum, tomato.
Inside: South African aptenia and South American bougainvillea.
Animal sightings: Rabbit, hummingbird, large black harvester and small dark ants, cricket in well.
Weather: Clouds dropped little rain during the week, but kept the nights warmer so zinnias grew; last useful rain 6/20/09; 15:56 hours of daylight today.
Weekly update: The Maltese cross blooming outside my porch window is the strongest red in the garden, surpassing even the zinnias of late summer.
The balls of club-footed florets have none of the blue that moderates the red of the roses and hollyhocks, and too little yellow to matter. When I look out in the evening, through the hollyhock stalks dotted with spots of burgundy, they beckon like gems buried in the forest, tease like spots on the wall after pictures have been taken down.
When I see the two-foot high perennial at noon with California poppies, it picks out their golden color without being subsumed. Its color comes entirely from its anthocyanin pigments, not from the light that vitalizes the poppies. Nineteen-century writer Sarah Orne Jewett called them London Pride, and they now grow with yellow heliopsis in her restored garden in South Berwick, Maine.
Such a solid, assured red is rare in nature. The Egyptians knew gold would produce red glass, but it was centuries before Andreas Cassius found a way around 1685 to set the color with tin. Even then the ruby red was a bit blueish.
Iron oxide was more commonly used to produce a dull red, especially in painters’ ochres. When the iron deposit also contained aluminum, the pigment was chemically stable. Otherwise, like many other reds used in house paint and stucco, the color was fugitive and darkened or faded in light as molecules responded to heat.
Madder set with alum was the common British red dye plant imported by the bale through Southampton from Venice or Genoa. Bristol, a port on the west coast of England with a textile industry that dated back to the 1100's, was believed by William Horman to produce the best red fabrics in 1530 because of its water. The river Frome drained the chalk hills of the Cotswolds that would have leached into the water.
It’s ironic that a color so difficult to produce is so disregarded. By the early 1500's, Bristol’s textile trade had been reduced to the cheapest cloths, and Bristol red was worn by the lowest classes. Around 1517, John Skelton described an ales-wife near the royal palace, Nonesuch, wearing a 'kyrtyll' or tunic of 'bristowe read" while a rival poet, Alexander Barclay, distinguished the pleasant, medium Bristol red from London scarlet.
The brilliant red flower apparently reached England sometime after Bristol merchants first tried to exploit the expansion of the Ottoman Empire under Suleiman by ignoring the Italian middlemen in the 1540's. John Gerard is the first Englishman we know who grew Lychnis chalcedonica in 1593. He called the member of the carnation family Bristowe Red, Nonesuch, and Campion of Constantinople.
Many assume the common name, Maltese cross, means the plant was introduced during the Crusades. However, the earliest known reference to the flower, transported from the grassland steppes of Russia, Siberia and Mongolia, was made by Ulisse Aldrovandi who established the botanic garden in Bologna in 1570. It’s hard to believe a color this dramatic would not have appeared in some graphic form, a tapestry, a manuscript, a painting, if it were available before. After all, John Parkinson posed with the "glorius flower" in his dictionary of usable plants in 1621.
More likely the common name comes from the shape of the five petals which are forked like the four-armed cross, but it was the color that mattered to the cottagers who named it Scarlet Lightening, the New Englanders who called it London Pride, and to John Gerard who saw Bristol Red. Only specialists grow something for the shape of the petals; my friends would welcome Big Red.
Notes: References are repeated by multiple sources, a number of whom used the Oxford English Dictionary.
Barclay, Alexander. Fourth Eclogue, written between 1509 and 1514.
Gerard, John. Herball or Generale Historie of Plants, 1597.
Horman, William. Vulgaria, 1530.
Parkinson, John. Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris, 1629.
Skelton, John. "The Tunnynge of Elynoare Rummynge," written around 1517 and posthumously published in 1550.
Wetzel, Nancy Mayer. "London Pride," 2003, Coe College website, on Jewett.
Photograph: Maltese cross with California poppies and pink evening primroses, 21 June 2009.
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