It isn’t easy to imagine a more varied, more interesting, or pleasing lot of plants than is embraced in the genus Fritillaria aka Chess flower. The books tell us there are more than 70 distinct species, and some of these, like the checkered Lily flower and the Crown Imperial, are further divided into several named varieties.
In this diversified group, there is a plant for almost every well-drained situation in the garden. And in assembling a representative lot, there is sure to be many an exciting adventure.
To make that task easier and more certain to succeed, we share personal experiences and a little knowledge garnered in the gardens of two friends who have made fritillarias their hobby.
Guinea Hen Flower Description
One of the first plants in the rock garden was Fritillaria pudica. After fifteen years or more, and without regard to the coming and going of numerous less permanent subjects, this plant continues to delight each succeeding spring with nodding flowers of golden yellow on 5″-inch stems. It is a plant for well-drained, light moist soil in full sun, and there it should be an abiding fixture in any garden.
Perhaps the loveliest of sun-loving natives is Fritillaria pluriflora of California, where most of America’s contributions to the genus come. It is truly a beautiful plant, with many rosy-purple open bells on 8″-inch stems.
Scarcely less lovely, though, is the white fritillary, Fritillaria liliacea, from the Coast Range south of San Francisco, with its green-veined waxy white flowers on stems of the same height or perhaps a little less. One known as Fritillaria glauca, much like Fritillaria pluriflora, with greenish-yellow marks on purple bells and glaucous leaves, is also to be reckoned with in any appraisal of native fritillaries.
When it is recorded that “stink bells” (Fritillaria agrestis) earn their name by its unpleasant odor, the plant may stand condemned in the eyes, or rather noses, of gardeners. I hope not, though, because it does not deserve such treatment. There are two different forms of this species: a low growing plant of 4″ inches and the other, the one described by Greene, far more stately, often reaching 15″ inches. The flowers, greenish-yellow bells, are much alike and are not as bad as the common name would indicate.
The fritillarias mentioned so far are easy to grow and permanent, and they offer a type of growth and flower not generally available in other garden plants. To the preceding sun-lovers should be added Fritillaria purdyi, though I cannot speak with authority on its reaction to extreme cold, for I have not grown it in my present garden. However, it did well in an old garden in Ohio, behaving like a smaller Fritillaria pluriflora with reddish-tinged white flowers.
Planting The Native Checkered Lilies
For natural beauty in native fritillarias, however, one has to go to Fritillaria recurva. And like many beauties, this species is rather inconstant. I may have been unfortunate in getting recalcitrant stock. Still, nothing in my experience so far tells me that this orange-scarlet beauty will ever be a permanent fixture in my garden.
It is a woodland plant, they who know it in its native California haunts say, delighting in a leafy, well-drained soil. Under such conditions, it should send up stems to a height of 2′ feet or more, with leaves in whorls and terminating in a graceful raceme of brilliant red, strongly recurred bells. But it seldom does more than once for me. Then, after that, it passes on to keep company with those that have preceded it.
I do not know how the Rice-root Lily or Mission Bells, Fritillaria lanceolata, behaves under natural conditions. Still, here it almost invariably dies after flowering, though its bulblets may be used to keep the plant going.
Fritillaria Are Highly Variable Species
It is a highly variable species, for I have had them running from 18″ inches to 3′ feet tall and from green and brown mottled flower color to almost black. Another variable species, though not so much so as time preceding, is the widely-distributed Fritillaria atropurpurea.
It seldom gets over a foot tall, at least in material that I have had. But the bells vary from a brown-spotted yellowish hue to yellow with a greenish cast and maroon spots.
The woodland lovers just mentioned are not permanent under any conditions that I have contrived for them, and no doubt they will behave similarly in other sections of the East. But they are worthy of repeated trials, and the button-shaped bulb is so reasonably priced in the West that the fritillary lover can afford to make yearly purchases of stock.
Moreover, they have done best for me in a deep-well-drained leafy soil in partial shade.
The previous fritillarias are usually easy to find in the catalogs of western dealers. However, it is quite different when one commences looking for European and Asiatic kinds, except the Crown Imperial and the Checkered Lily (Fritillaria meleagris).
During the years, many European and Asian fritillaries have passed through my trial gardens. Some I should like to have again; others were briefly mourned, but I should not go to the trouble of getting them again.
It would indeed take a lot of pains to get them together, as will be apparent to any collector. But, unfortunately, not many are available in this country, and seeds are rarely listed.
Crown Imperial (Fritillaria imperialis) The Best Known
Of all fritillarias, the Crown Imperial (Fritillaria imperialis) is perhaps the best known and loved. Of course, its long association with gardeners has had no little part in that; but a combination of intriguing characters has no doubt had more.
The earliest writers on the subject recognized these signs, as will be noted in Gerard’s description, where he wrote that “The leaves grow confusedly about the stalks like those of the white Lily, but narrower. The flowers grow at the top of the stalk, encompassing it round, in the form of an Imperial Crown (hence the name) hanging their heads down as it were bells.”
Since Gerard’s time, other colors have been introduced from the wild and gardens. These include the reddish-orange of Aurora or Kaiser Crown, the brownish-orange of Orange Brilliant, Rubra Maxima, with large red bells, the sulfur-yellow of Sulpherus, and many others.
The yellows appear the least vigorous of the lot in light soil, needing the best soil and the choicest situations for satisfactory performance. The orange-colored ones, on the other hand, do splendidly in a sunny or lightly shaded spot thoroughly enriched to a depth of 15″ inches deep with old rotted manure.
Light Soil For More Bulbs
Light soil seems to induce rapid multiplication of the bulbs. Consequently, contrary to the usual recommendation to leave them undisturbed for years, I find it quite necessary to lift them at least every third year. They are replanting the large bulbs in their bed and growing the small ones in nursery rows until they are ready to blossom.
A situation sheltered from strong winds is recommended because of their stately growth (3′ feet or more in the most robust kinds) and the likelihood of the brittle stems snapping off in high winds.
Lifting is perhaps best done as soon as the foliage dies down after flowering. At best, though, their behavior is quite eccentric, and one will never know how they will react until trial.
One can approach the Checkered Lily with the assurance that it will give freely over the years for every attention given it. It is undoubtedly best in a rather’ dampish spot in a reasonably rich loam notwithstanding catalog directions – which advise giving it a dry soil.
That, at least, has been my experience, but when one has no damp spot, it usually settles down to its pleasant ways in a lightly shaded corner in a soil full of humus.
In such a spot, you can expect an increase from year to year of its little round bulbs from which will spring foot-tall stems, sparingly clothed in long narrow grayish leaves, to a height of a foot or so, each stem usually hearing two quaintly checkered bells.
In the natural species, these are garnet on a paler ground, giving the general appearance of bronzy-purple. It all makes a quaint flower, not showy, though a large colony is decidedly attractive – something which the gardener, having known, would not willingly do without.
The variety Alba is a wholly delightful thing with checkerings of greenish-yellow on the nearly-white ground, each segment surrounded by green. This is a plant of infinite charm, vigorous and gracious.
But for strength and beauty in whites, one has to go with the variety Aphrodite. My favorite of all Meleagris forms is the one known as Artemia, a thrifty thing, growing to 14″ inches under good treatment, with large bells of two tones of a wine color, producing an effect of gray-purple, always with ridges of the segments green. That may not sound exciting, but the flower itself is most pleasing.
NOTE: Some Fritillaria varieties listed may no longer be available.
FGR-1147 – by CW Wood