On a recent trip abroad, I was privileged to see hundreds of rhododendrons and azaleas, most of which are unknown to the gardens of New England. These are species from the oriental hinterlands, and hybrids have been produced from there.
Grown in England, Scotland, and Wales, they are mostly too tender for our cold climate, except on the West Coast or other favored spots.
They cover an immense range of types, from dwarf table-top alpines to the tree-rhododendrons of the tropical rainforests of Burma. Flowers come in all sizes and various colors. These include a few vivid reds, a few yellows, and some as blue as a very blue lilac. There are also a few oddities among them, some being unique.
Cult of Hybridists
People talk and write glibly about these novelties among enthusiasts in regions where these can be grown. A cult of hybridists has arisen who will tolerate nothing but fancier’s sorts (which even in Britain cannot be produced except under favorable circumstances).
It has become fashionable, in some circles, to speak disparagingly of the reliable old hardy rhododendrons and azaleas with which we are familiar in the northeastern United States.
This might discourage a person in New England who can presently grow but few novelties. There are indeed a few excellent species among these outstanding, which is true for several new hybrids.
However, it may come as a consolation to many of us in colder places to know that many of these new exotics, the great bulk of species, in my opinion, are not outstanding. They may be no better nor even as good as our present hardy American material.
Let me say at once that my notes on literally dozens of these foreign species, taken from specimens I examined last spring in the shows and gardens of Britain, contain statements like the following:
“Not as good as the best forms of Rhododendron maximum.”
“No better than Rhododendron catawbiense.”
“Perhaps as good as Rhododendron carolinianum.”
“Good in color, but with a wretched, gangling habit.
“Our azaleas are better.”
There were quite a few I thought unworthy of horticultural introduction, and I predict I will disappear after the craze for novelties has ceased.
Dexter Hybrid Rhododendron
In some instances, I felt that overzealous introducers had run away with the judgment of committeemen who placed merit stars on material that was undeserving of any distinction whatsoever. Then, too, fanciers’ hybrids were overrated and could seldom be expected to become good commercial sorts.
This does not mean that all foreign species and hybrids are inferior. Some of them arc truly grand and exceed anything that we in the American northeast can ever hope to attain. But these are the leaders, and all the rest are not as good as some of our less-advertised representatives.
A relatively higher rating should be placed upon some of our familiar things. For instance, while in Scotland with a party of horticulturists, primarily British, we came upon a beautiful azalea that most the Britons had never encountered before.
They were simply enchanted by its beauty, raved about it, and called it one of the finest rhododendrons they had ever seen. It was a typical plant of our pink shell azalea (Rhododendron vaseyi) from North Carolina.
At the 1955 Chelsea Show, Britons also got a good look at our northern rose-shell or mayflower azalea (Rhododendrons roseum). It was given an Award of Merit by the Royal Horticultural Society. Rhododendrons kaempferi, familiar in Massachusetts, was given a First Class Certificate.
It is unfortunate that Rhododendrons carolinianum and some of our other treasures do poorly in England and so have been deprived of honors they deserve here. And there are different American sorts of hardy hybrids that will hold their own in any critical comparison with other “honored” types.
Let’s Develop Our Own
So let us not develop an inferiority complex about the rhododendrons and azaleas, which we can and do raise over here where the winter temperatures go below zero. The summer temperatures approach those of Rome. Instead, let us develop our plants and good ones to fit our conditions.
Forget about exotics except as they may be used to improve our stock through hybridization or as they may be enhanced in hardiness by selecting hardier strains. Both these possibilities are definitely in our future pattern. Already, the Dexter hybrids will lead their field.
Meanwhile, we might do better with what we have. Instead of accepting the run-of-the-mill collected plants of Rhododendrons maximum and Rhododendrons catawbiense, let us propagate vegetatively the very superior individuals that occasionally occur within these species. I know of beautiful pure white forms of these wild species, highly specialized to the usual kinds.
There is considerable variation among seedlings, and once in a while, a plant appears among them which is conspicuously better than its brethren. The same thing can happen among plants that are growing wild. When such an individual is discovered, it may be propagated vegetatively, given a cultivar name, and sent out as a clone or “named variety.” This is just as true of our azaleas as of rhododendrons.
Perhaps some of our suitable native species arc without due honor in their own country is because we see them growing wild under conditions of competition in which they cannot develop their best character.
Then, too, a cult of gardeners seem to feel it their duty to copy nature in both design and culture. There were years when most growers felt that rhododendrons and azaleas needed no more fertilizer than a leafy mulch could provide.
This notion, plus inadequate light and water, naturally result in the same sort of scrawny specimens that one finds in the wild. We now know that these and many other wild plants can well utilize food, light, water, and good horticultural treatment. The slim azalea of the woodland can sometimes be made to be a lush dooryard shrub.
Wild Azaleas Superb
This suggests that design, too, has something to do with our ability to see the hidden virtues in some of our wild species. When planted in the manner of wildlings, we may fail to recognize them as exquisite garden flowers.
In addition to the instances cited above concerning azaleas and rhododendrons, I can especially mention the use of the common staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina) in the formal gardens at Warwick Castle. Imagine my delight at encountering in a shady but honored place in Windsor Great Park, a little-used shrub that occurs wild in the woods on my farm in Broome County, New York — the hobble-bush (Viburnum alnifolium).
The British have discovered what only a few of us have known. This nice-flowering bush will endure full shade. Again, an American gets a new experience from familiar plant materials when he sees solid plantings of goldenrod in formal beds in the British parks, at the Peace Palace in Holland, and reposing in florists’ windows in Paris.
In all of our horticulture, we can utilize all sorts of foreign plants to our immense advantage. But along with these, let us not lose sight of the enduring horticultural values of our ordinary and hardy things.
44659 by Dr. Clement G. Bowers