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“I’ll
have an Iris that shall find thee out.”
—
Shakespeare.
WHEN one sees the rainbow banners of the Iris unfurling along the borders in the sunshine it seems highly probable that the mantle of their namesake has fallen upon them, and that they are indeed messengers of the gods, and it seems well to incline one’s ear and open wide one’s eyes lest we miss some smallest shade of meaning in this rarely illuminated message brought to us by these brave couriers across the wintry wastes.
The
period covered by the blossoming of the Iris is full of enjoyment to me. Since
the days when all my knowledge of this great and varied family was vested in the
common purple Iris of old gardens and the gay Flag-flowers, which lie in June
upon our moist meadows, “like the silent shadow of a cloud,” their spell has
been upon me, and it was a discovery of much delight that these two were but
lowly members of a great company that would gladly bloom in my garden; would
fill it from April through July with a lovely, unexacting throng demanding
little attention and no special conditions, and from whose ranks I might draw
subjects for every sort of situation.
I
do not speak of the rare and difficult species and varieties belonging to the
Oncocyclus, Juno, and Regalia groups, for these unfold their flowers only for
those able and willing to provide them with very special conditions, but of the
many fine Irises that may be found under the heads, Pogoniris and Apogon, two at
least of the Evansias and some of the bulbous species, which will bloom
cheerfully under ordinary conditions in the open garden.
There
are so many species in this great genus, and the intermarriages have been so
numerous and so confusing, that classification has become difficult; yet very
little of this genealogy is necessary to us who simply wish to realize in our
gardens the highest decorative possibilities of this splendid flower.
For
the purposes of the open garden the genus Iris may be divided into four
sections: Pogoniris or Bearded, Apogon or Beardless, Evansia or Crested, and
Bulbous. The “beard” is a “collection of closely set hairs” on the
“falls” or drooping petals of the Iris flower. Irises without this
decoration are called beardless. The “crest” is an “elevated line or
ridges on the segment of an Iris.”

"When one sees the rainbow banners of the iris unfurling
along
the borders in the sunshine it seems highly probable that the
mantle of their namesake has fallen upon them, and it seems well
to incline one's ear and open wide one's eyes lest we miss some
smallest shade of meaning in this rarely illuminated message."
The
bearded section contains the best known and most easily grown of the Irises.
They possess a thick, fleshy rootstock, creeping along the surface of the earth,
and delight in the sunniest situations in the garden. Among them may be found
plants from four inches in height to three and one-half feet, all bearing large,
conspicuous flowers above the erect, sword-like foliage, the strong vertical
lines of which are so valuable in the borders where so much is uncertain or
spreading.
Most
important in the Pogoniris group are those known as German Irises which include,
not only I. germanica, the type, a May-flowering species with few varieties, but
many closely allied forms blooming in June; as pallida, squalens, amoena,
aphylla, florentina and others, each of which has numerous garden hybrids. The
familiar blue-purple Flag of old gardens is typical of these German Irises
— hardy and
patient-blooming with prodigal generosity under the most untoward conditions.
How often we see it holding high its splendid head close to the dusty roadside
whence it has found its way through the broken palings of a neglected dooryard,
or keeping guard in great spreading patches with the enduring Lilacs over the
crumbling ruins of what was once a home.
Some
of the other varieties of I. germanica are much finer than the Old Purple,
though none are more willing and few are better for mass planting, as:
I. Kochii,
deep
claret-purple, twenty-three inches.
Amas, amethyst standards and violet falls, thirty-two inches.
Crimson King, splendid red-purple, twenty-one inches.
Kharput, strong violet-purple, large flowers, thirty-three inches.
Ingeborg, standards white, falls tender gray, orange beard,
seventeen inches.
Other
tall-growing, May-flowering Irises are I.
florentina, albicans, Billioti,
Cengialti, benacensis, and flavescens. Florentina, from the root of which is made the fragrant
orris powder, is only less familiar as a charming inhabitant of old gardens than
the Purple Flag. It is one of the loveliest of Irises, and its French-gray crępe
flowers are invaluable to us in creating May pictures. It is fine with the
Dicentras and tall pink Tulips of the Cottage and Darwin types; with the yellow
Doronicums and the pretty lavender-flowered Phlox divaricata, and is splendid in spreading groups near
pink-flowered Crabapple trees. Albicans and its variety Princess of Wales are
forms of florentina blooming a little later and with flowers very nearly a pure
white.
Iris Billioti is a tall plant bearing very fragrant red-purple blossoms
late in May, and I. benacensis, in two
shades of purple, grows only eighteen inches tall and blooms in the early part
of the month.
I. Cengialti, which Miss Jekyll mentions as the nearest to a blue Iris,
is a slender plant —
not so firmly erect as many of its kind, but very pretty. Its two
varieties Loppio and Zephyr, the latter more lilac in colour, are well worth
possessing. Flavescens, bearing large, soft yellow flowers, very sweetly
scented, is one of the best of the May-flowering sorts. It grows about two and a
half feet high.
Besides these tall, early-flowering Irises there are a number of dwarfs, some of which bloom in April. The different species and their varieties are rather badly confused in catalogues, and I don’t know that it makes a great deal of difference as they are much alike, save that it is interesting to know the true names of one’s plants. Lurida, with its beautiful coppery-bronze flowers, is too distinct to be easily confused with other sorts. With me this plant blooms twice, first in early May and again in late October, but as I have not seen this generous behaviour ascribed to it I do not know if it be its regular habit.
Varieties
of I.
Chamaeiris and pumila are
constantly sent out misnamed — that is, the former is nearly always sent where
the latter is ordered, and this is irritating since pumila is both dwarfer and
prettier than Chamaeiris and may be easily distinguished by the fact that it has
no stem, while the taller sort has very distinctly an inch or two.
The loveliest variety of pumila is caerulea, a four-inch mite, very nearly
sky-blue in colour, and there is also a pretty sky-blue sort called Attraction.
Chamaeiris has a number of good sorts — red-purple, blue-purple, citron, pale
yellow, and I believe white. I.
gracilis bears a charming silver-gray flower shot with mauve and sweetly
scented. I. lutescens is pure yellow of a very fine warm tone. There are
also the Hybrid
Crimean Irises in large variety, varying from six inches to a foot in
height.
All
these Dwarf Irises bloom in April and May, and are very charming in spreading
patches along the edges of the borders between the mounds of Arabis, Aubrietia,
Iberis, and Alyssum, backed by ranks of early Tulips and Daffodils. They spread
quickly and blossom so freely as to produce sheets of solid colour.
A
good and representative collection of the tall June-flowering German Irises
which are among the most valuable of hardy plants is the following:
AMOENA SECTION.
L’Innocence, ivory-white with gold beard, twenty-six inches.
Mrs. H. Darwin, blue and white, orange beard,
twenty-eight inches.
Thorbeck, rich purple with white markings, thirty-six inches.
NEGLECTA SECTION.
Black Prince, standards lavender, falls blackish-purple, two and
one-half feet.
Cordelia, two shades of rosy-lilac, two feet.
Willie Barr, standards French-gray, falls white traced violet,
eighteen inches.
PALLIDA SECTION.
Dalmatica, splendid large clear lilac flowers, broad, strong
foliage, forty inches.
Celeste, silvery-lavender, three feet.
Her Majesty, standards soft rose, falls deeper in colour, two and
one-half feet.
Madame Pacquitte, shades of claret, two and
one-half feet.
Queen of May, rose-lilac, almost pink, thirty-two inches.
PLICATA SECTION (SYN. APHYLLA).
Bridesmaid, white and silvery-lilac, twenty-seven inches.
Madame Chereau, white frilled lavender,
thirty-eight inches.
Sappho, fine white flower with lilac edges, two feet.
VARIEGATA SECTION.
Innocenza, pure white, gold crest.
Darius, primrose-yellow and lilac.
Maori King, golden-yellow and maroon.
SQUALENS SECTION.
Jacquiniana, copper colour and claret, two and one half feet.
Dr.
Bernice, bronze and maroon, two feet.
Exquisite, clouded yellow and rose-lilac, twenty-six inches.
June
borders made up of groups of these German Irises intermingled with tall blue and
white Lupines, Lemon Lilies, Foxgloves, and Peach-leaved Campanulas, with a
background of Persian Lilacs and such free-growing Roses as Stanwell’s
Perpetual, Madame Plantier, and the yellow Briers — Harisoni and the Persian
— and edged with double white Pinks and Nepeta
Mussini, are a joy indeed, if one has sufficient room to give up a whole
border to a single month. Often such a border as this may be made in some
inconspicuous part of the grounds where it need be visited only when in festal
array.
All
these Bearded Irises with fleshy, creeping rhizomes or roots should be planted
with the rhizome partly above the surface of the ground, for the health of the
plant requires that this should be well ripened by the sun, and the best time to
set them out is just after they have flowered. To increase one’s stock pieces
of the thick root may be broken from the parent clump, the foliage cut back to
an inch or so, and the ‘root set firmly, but only part way in the earth. These
plants should be large enough to bloom the following year.
The
Evansea or crested group is a small one and but two of its members known to me
are suitable for the open garden. A jagged “crest” replaces the “beard”
of the Pogoniris and the rhizome is thick and creeps along the surface of the
ground very much as do the roots of the latter.
I. tectorum, the Japanese Roof Iris, from the roots of which the
ladies of Japan make a famed cosmetic, is to me one of the most beautiful of the
family. The reflexed leaves are slightly glaucous; the flower stalk about
eighteen inches high, bears several very large flat blue-purple flowers
curiously clouded with a deeper colour and further embellished by an ivory
crest. There is a rare white variety which is surpassed in elegance and
distinction by few flowers known to me. Though tectorum is often spoken of as
not very amenable, it grows here with great freedom in a slightly raised sunny
border protected on the north and east by the garden wall, and bears its
esthetic flowers in satisfying profusion. I have raised many plants of tectorum
from seed gathered from my own plants many of which have bloomed the second
year.
Wee
Iris cristata, a native American found
in parts of Maryland and Virginia, has the appearance of some thing rare and
costly, but grows like any weed in the borders and makes a charming edging. The
plants grow only about four inches high, and the large spreading lavender
blossoms made brilliant by a conspicuous gold crest are so profusely borne as to
quite hide the foliage. They flower in May, and I like to plant them in front ol
the orange-scarlet Geums or between mounds of deep. purple Aubrietia.
Many
delightful plants are to be found in the Apogon or Beardless section of the
rhizomatous Irises, and most of these, while as easy to grow and as showy as the
German Irises, are, save for the Japanese sort, rare in gardens. Perhaps this is
because they are looked upon as water lovers, and while this is true of a large
majority of them I have not found any that will not grow and flower contentedly
in rich, deeply dug garden soil. The blossoms of this type of Iris are more
delicately modelled than those of the Bearded group and seem poised like gay
butterflies above the slender grass-like foliage, and instead of the fleshy root
there is a bunch of slender rootlets.
Of
the Beardless Irises preferring the dryer parts of the garden, I. missouriensis, a native, is the best. It is an early bloomer
producing its yellow-blotched lavender blossoms very freely. I.
foetidissima, growing wild in Great Britain, is unique among its kind, for,
while the blossoms are dull and not lovely, the orange-scarlet seeds, which
cling all winter to the flaring pods, are pretty and decorative, and are useful
at a season when colour in the garden is at a premium. This Iris is also one of
the few which does not abhor shade, but it has a drawback in the disagreeable
odour which emanates from its handsome foliage when bruised. A low-growing and
very pretty Iris for near the front of the border is I.
graminea. Its gay, reddish-purple blossoms are almost hidden among its
narrow, grass-like leaves. It is easily grown in any sunny border and has an
agreeable fragrance. I. fulva, which I
have not yet been able to flower, is described as bearing handsome terra-cotta
flowers on stems two feet tall. Mr. W. R. Dykes speaks of it as “difficult”
and says it demands “a hot and dry position if it is to produce its remarkable
blossoms in any profusion.”
Preeminent
among the moisture lovers is the great Japanese Iris, I. laevigata or Kaempferi, which
is one of the finest hardy plants we have but which does not do as well as some
of the others of its class in the dry borders of the garden. Indeed in its
chosen place by the water-side it is so truly magnificent it seems a pity to be
satisfied with it grown under any other conditions. In very deep, rich soil,
freely watered especially while the buds are forming, one may realize much
beauty but may not command the same luxuriance of growth and splendid spread of
blossom that one is graciously vouchsafed in a naturally moist situation. The
huge blossoms of the Japanese Iris frequently measure six inches across and are
most wonderful in colour and texture. Mr. Irwin Lynch in his valuable “Book of
the Iris” gives the following as good varieties:
Alexander von Humboldt, pure
white.
Chyia,
lilac and white.
Her Majesty, violet, speckled white.
Keiko, blush suffused and speckled rose.
Lady Scott Monorief, white with rose halo.
Netta, white, edged rose-pink.
Ozaka, pale sky-blue passing to white with golden blotch.
The
length of their blossoming period may be quite appreciably lengthened by
planting some in partial shade. They are easily raised from seed, the young
plants usually blooming the second or third year.
The
next most important group of these beardless moisture lovers is the slender I.
sibirica and its varieties —
symmetrical plants with lightly made fairy blossoms poised delicately
above the narrow, reflexing foliage. Particularly pure and lovely is the white
sort, I. sibirica var. alba;
and there are good blue, lavender, and purple forms. These Siberians are
most effective planted in rather large groups, as a single plant is not strong
enough to create any great effect, and as the frail character of their beauty
suffers in comparison with their more robust German cousins they are best kept
out of each other’s company.
A
close relative of sibirica is I. orientalis, which is not to be confounded with that orientalis whose more familiar
name is I. ochroleuca. Two varieties
of the Siberian orientalis, Blue King and
Snow Queen, are among the most
conspicuous and valuable of garden Irises. The one bears intense blue-purple
blossoms with reddish spathes and the other pure white in such profusion as to
almost hide the foliage. The ripened seed pods are so numerous that they give
the plant a very untidy appearance after flowering, so it is best to cut them
off. All the Siberians are easily raised from seed, and the plants when once
established should be left alone to perfect their beauty. They do as well in the
rich borders of the garden as in the moist situations which their hollow stems
tell us that they enjoy.
I. longipetala
is the only tractable member
of the beautiful and desirable California group. It bears a lovely sprightly
flower with deep-toned veinings on the lavender ground of its standards and
tender silvery falls. It is said that this plant should be moved only when in
full growth. I. spuria and its various
forms are well worth planting, though I believe they vary much in desirability.
Mrs. A. W. Tate, the only form I have here, is a good plant with fine foliage
and a strong stein carrying several deep-lavender flowers.
Closely
related to this is I. guildenstaedtiana
— a formidable name and a none too attractive species. The purple form is
better than the dingy yellow, but neither need be included in any but a large
collection.
Three
fine yellow Irises for the border or waterside are I.
aurea, Monnieri, and ochroleuca. The
first bears a finely modelled butter-yellow flower with slightly crimped petals
poised well above the foliage; Monnieri sends
its lemon-coloured blossoms aloft on stems four feet tall, and has a noble
relative, Monaurea, deeper in colour,
which is said to grow six feet tall in moist situations. There is also another
relative, Monspur, with striking blue
and yellow flowers that is too good a thing to be omitted from a collection of
any size. Ochroleuca, the Gold Banded
Iris, is said to reach a height of six feet when well established in a moist
situation, but it has not done this for me. The great thick-skinned
ivory-coloured blossoms, deepening to pure gold at the base, are wonderfully
beautiful, and one wishes that they might be borne with greater generosity. We
have used these yellow Irises with the addition of Monspur and Snow Queen to
encircle a little ever-overflowing pool in the walled garden. They bloom late
— in late June and early July — but in May the little bed is gay with Forget-me-nots,
Violas, and double Poet’s Narcissus.
Our
pretty native, I. versicolor, which
Thoreau said is too gay “like some women’s bonnets,” and the yellow Water
Flag (I. pseudacorus) , are a bit too free with their progeny to make
garden life quite the thing for them. Far and wide the quickly germinating seeds
are scattered, and before one knows it there are cunning baby Irises coming up
all over the garden which in a surprisingly short time have grown into stout
clumps, and choicer, less pervasive things are crowded out. But in the wilder
parts of the place, the meadows, or along the stream or pond, these two may
increase at will, and one is only grateful for their fruitfulness.
With
the Bulbous Irises I have had no great experience though the few that are known
to me have made me anxious to extend my acquaintance among them. Nothing could
be more lovely than those belonging to the reticulata
group. I have grown only three of these Irises including the type, but
Professor Bailey gives quite a number as hardy in the vicinity of New York City.
These Irises have curiously “netted” bulbs, hence the name, and the type and
its variety Krelagei are characterized
by peculiar four-sided leaves with a horny tip. The type is the most beautiful
of all. I never cease to be quite overwhelmed at the appearance of these
brilliant purple and gold flowers so early in the year, shining through their
stiff, narrow leaves. Last spring they flashed forth while the snow still lay
upon the ground, and in spite of the discouraging cold their delicious violet
fragrance was discernible several feet away. I.
Krelagei bears a duller flower, and neither this nor the variety histrioides
has, save in a slight degree, the violet perfume. Histrioides blooms a
little before the others and bears larger flowers which often expand before the
leaves are well out of the ground. If taken into a warm room both this and
Krelagei will give out more perfume, but the type seems quite undaunted in its
determination to make sweet the cold March garden.
All
the reticulata Irises are prone to a deadly disease which shows on the netted
surface of the bulb in ink-like spots, and soon proves fatal. Professor Michael
Foster recommends lifting and replanting the bulbs frequently, discarding those
which show the blight, and another authority advocates soaking them for an hour
or so in a-solution of formaline of the strength of one in three hundred parts.
My reticulatas have done fairly well in a raised border against a wall facing
south, where they are kept dry in winter. The soil is a mixture of sand and
rather heavy loam, but I believe an admixture of clay is more desirable for
these bulbs.
The
so-called Spanish and English Irises are quite indispensable if we have a spot
to suit them. The stem of the Spanish Iris (I.
Xiphium) rises stiffly to a height of about eighteen inches and carries two
flowers quite conventional in their chaste formality of line. They are so
inexpensive that the bulbs may be bought by the thousand, and I know of no
investment which insures a greater return in beauty. They are best planted in
August that they may send up their narrow, onion-like growth, which seems a sort
of guarantee of good faith, before frost. Any dry, sunny border suits them well,
but they do not like to be pressed upon by strong growing perennials or robbed
by greedy annuals, but after the foliage has gone they do not object to a carpet
of such lightly rooting annuals as Sedum
coeruleum, Ionopsidium acaule, or Gypsophila
muralis. When the bulbs become overcrowded it is well to lift and replant
them comfortably.
These
flowers have been called the “poor man’s Orchid,” but rich and poor and
all the middle-sized folk between will make no mistake in planting Spanish
Irises generously both in a cutting garden, for they are lovely for indoor
decoration, and all about the garden in nooks and corners as we like to plant
the Daffodils. The white varieties are exquisite, and the great bronze
Thunderbolt very striking. Leander is pure yellow and sweetly scented, and there
are any number of delightful others running through many shades of cream,
bronze, amethyst, lavender, blue, and yellow. These are among the few plants
which may with safety be bought “mixed” —
inharmony seems impossible to them.
The
English Iris (I. xiphioides) requires
more moisture than is usually to be had in our dry American gardens, and in my
own garden, even with faithful watering, it has not been happy. it is very
handsome with large spreading flowers in shades of blue, purple, and white which
appear with the Spanish Irises in July.
These
with other bulbous Irises should be planted in the autumn, and may be found in
the catalogues of “Dutch Bulbs.” Another year I hope to add to my collection
I. tuberosa, “the Widow,” I.
persica, and two of the Juno group said to be the least crotchety — I. orchioides
and caucasica.
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