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The Best Antique Annuals
by Tovah Martin
Amaranthus caudatus Love-lies-bleeding
Fashions come and go, especially in flowers. And, for a time—in the not-so-distant past—magenta was not permitted in the garden. Garden trendsetter Gertrude Jekyll banished magenta blooms from her garden and others followed her lead, possibly explaining the disappearance of love-lies-bleeding. Native to Peru, Africa, and India, Amaranthus caudatus was introduced before 1665, and was first called the "great purple flower-gentle." Its long, deep magenta catkins, dangling down from three- to four-foot-tall plants, were greatly admired in both Elizabethan and Victorian times. Interestingly, love-lies-bleeding can again be found at garden centers. Perhaps it is making a comeback.
Antirrhinum majus Snapdragon
By Elizabethan times, Antirrhinum majus was already available with flowers in purple, white, pink, red with a yellow throat, and red with yellow veins. Those original snapdragons, so beloved in the 17th century, stood three feet or taller and were scentless. In fact, it wasn't until 1963 that the first scented snapdragon appeared in commerce—a rare situation in horticulture; more often, blossoms lost scent with time. The first dwarf hybrid, 'Tom Thumb', didn't appear on the scene until the 1880s.
Callistephus chinensis China aster
Discovered by a Jesuit missionary in a field near Peking in the 1730s and originally thought to be an aster, the first Callistephus had single flowers with rows of purple ray petals. By 1750, the flower was already available in blue, white, red, and purple on top of ornamental, serrated leaves. Although popular until the mid 20th century, China asters are certainly not as ragingly popular as they once were, but are making a comeback. Although old forms are prone to aster yellows, new resistant forms are now on the market.
Celosia argentea var. cristata Cockscomb
The first cockscomb to come into cultivation was the red, crested Celosia argentea var. cristata that arrived in Europe in 1570; the plumed and feathered types came later. Eighteenth-century gardeners, afraid to let anything that looked so rare mingle in the beds, grew cockscombs as potted plants. Early-20th-century gardeners continued to coddle cockscomb, proudly exhibiting at local fairs specimens with expansive crests.
Clarkia Clarkia
By the 1860s, two clarkias were already in cultivation, named for Captain Clark of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Of those, it was Clarkia unguiculata, with its cup-shaped flowers made up of triangular, lavender-pink petals, that received the most attention and was soon available in a variety of bright colors. Alas, clarkias, native to the Pacific Coast, failed to thrive in the hot summers typical of the rest of the country. They soon slipped out of popularity throughout most of the country, but are still grown as a cut flower on the West Coast and in other cool-summer regions.
Consolida Larkspur
Introduced into Britain from the Mediterranean in the mid-16th century, larkspurs were prevalent in gardens until relatively recently, when they were totally superceded by delphiniums. Nowadays it's difficult to find larkspur, although the slender spires of white-, pink-, or purple-spurred blossoms on top of a three-foot stem of pencil-thin leaves are wonderful for weaving between other plants.
Cosmos Cosmos
Cosmos was introduced into Britain from its native Mexico in 1799. Originally, cosmos was unlikely to set buds until a few weeks before it was smitten by frost throughout most of North America, and so it wasn't a common garden flower. In the early 20th century, though, the brightly colored flowers were bred to bloom earlier in the summer. When that improvement came, cosmos was already available in white, pink, and deep red.
Eschscholzia California poppy
One of the Pacific Coast species that has translated well in gardens throughout the country is the California poppy. First discovered by Spanish explorers sailing along the California coast in 1815, the California poppy varied widely in the wild. Other than the recent introduction of muted shades to tone down the uncompromising oranges typical of the species, it remains basically the same as the plant that 19th-century gardeners knew and loved.
Helianthus annuus Sunflower
The Spanish took the sunflower back to their country from South America in the 16th century, undoubtedly impressed by the big, brightly colored daisy so valued by the Incas. By that time the Native Americans had already selected many versions of Helianthus annuus—sunflowers with lots of branches and smaller flowers, or larger blooms on fewer branches, depending upon the regions in which they were being grown. Hopi Indians bred a purple-seeded variety for dyes and other tribes grew sunflowers for their oil-rich seeds or their meaty flower heads. Today, we are particularly fond of the mammoth version with one big flower balanced on a single stem.
Impatiens Balsam
By 1542, Impatiens balsamina, a recent introduction to Europe, was already widely grown. Before long, it was available in white, cream, pink, lilac, red, and crimson. Bicolored versions were available by 1706, and further innovations such as double, camellia-like balsams and striped types soon followed. All were immensely popular in early gardens, although they're rarely featured today. The current darling, Impatiens walleriana or busy Lizzie, was not commonly grown until the 1950s.
Matthiola Stocks
Grown in English gardens by the 16th century, stocks were available in double form by 1597. Valued for the tiny rose-like blossoms that line the stems, stocks are valuable as spring flowers, but go to seed and refuse to bud when the weather becomes hot. That quirk makes them perfect for British gardens, but not so well suited to most American flowerbeds. However, they remain a popular spring and fall crop and are flown in for use as cut flowers.
Mirabilis Four o'clock
As recently as the 1950s, four o'clocks were a fixture in the average flower garden, their bright yellow and magenta flowers (often sporting both colors in the same flower or different colored flowers on the same stem) could be found everywhere. Nowadays, they're hard to find. Some surmise that it's the bright-colored blooms that sealed their fate. However, it could be that we no longer value flowers that only open for a few hours at the end of the day—although, at one time, their punctual late-afternoon performance was part of their charm. There is hope for a revival of interest.
Nicotiana Flowering tobacco
At one time, fragrance was an important part of the appeal of flowering tobacco, and it's hard to fathom why it was forfeited for a broader color range. With long, felted green leaves and loose stalks of majestic, trumpet-shaped blossoms, Nicotiana opens fully and sends its aroma pouring out after dark. That trait was perfect for early-20th-century ladies who wanted to preserve their peaches-and-cream complexions and yet enjoy a moonlit garden. Introduced in the late 19th century, flowering tobacco arrived just in time to coincide with the craze for moon gardens.
Papaver Poppy
The opium or lettuce poppy, Papaver somnifera, was probably introduced into Britain by the Romans, and there were white, rose, violet, and striped versions quite early. Shirley poppies didn't appear until 1880, when the Vicar of Shirley set to work selecting a strain of Papaver rhoeas that sported a white hem around the edge of each blush-pink petal.
Petunia Petunia
Fragrance was the most interesting trait that the first petunia to be classified could claim. The white Petunia axillaris (formerly Petunia nyctaginiflora), discovered in South America in 1823, had intensely night-scented, muddy white flowers. More interesting was the purple-blossomed Petunia integritolia (formerly Petunia violacea) found in Buenos Aires in 1831. By 1837, petunias were being interbred, resulting in fringed, bicolored, and semi-double flowers. Double forms followed shortly thereafter.
Phlox drummondii Drummond's phlox
During the first half of the 20th century, no garden was complete without Drummond's phlox, introduced from Texas in the 1830s by Thomas Drummond. In the wild, its colors include rose, white, buff, pink, red, and purple. By the 1860s, the color range had expanded further, and by 1874 Drummond's phlox could boast the addition of varying-colored eyes accenting each blossom. How quickly we forget! Although this sun-loving annual has all the attributes of a superstar, it is a rarity in the garden. A revival could be in the offing.
Reseda Mignonette
Another casualty of fashion, mignonette was once an extremely important nosegay flower, especially when the streets were foul smelling and sweetly scented blooms were essential. One of the sweetest flowers grown, mignonette reputedly came to Europe from the Mediterranean before the 1st century. The unique orange and green blossoms have a strange form, resembling the setting for a diamond on a ring when the gem isn't yet installed. However, they dislike hot weather and quickly go out of bloom in the heat.
Tagetes Marigold
By the 16th century, marigolds had arrived in Europe, and they were popular garden plants. But there was little interest in a dwarf variety until the 1950s. Before that, the plants stood 18 inches or taller, with tansy-like, pungently scented leaves topped by daisy-like flowers in pale yellow.
Tropaeolum Nasturtium
The nasturtium that we all know and love, Tropaeolum majus, came into cultivation in the 1600s and became an instant success. Festively colored red-, orange-, and yellow-flowered versions naturally occur in the wild, leaving little necessity for selective breeding.
A variety of heirloom zinnias. Photo: Tovah Martin
Zinnia Zinnia
Hailed as the newest novelty on the current plant scene, Zinnia peruviana was actually the first member of the genus to arrive in Britain, in 1753. Holding small, mustard- or mulberry-colored flowers atop lanky three-foot stems, it didn't compare favorably with Zinnia elegans, which was introduced in 1796. It was Zinnia elegans, with its bright scarlet or crimson rayed, Mexican hat-shaped flowers, that became the parent of the many hybrids we know today. By 1856, there were double forms.
Tovah Martin's interest in heirlooms began with indoor plants at Logee's Greenhouses in Danielson, Connecticut, where she spent more than 20 years caring for the vintage begonia collection. She is the garden editor of Victoria magazine and the Litchfield County Times. Her writing has appeared frequently in the Sunday New York Times, and she is the author of several gardening books, including Tasha Tudor's Garden (Houghton Mifflin Co., 1994). She is the guest editor of two previous BBG handbooks, Greenhouses and Garden Rooms (1989) and A New Look at Houseplants(1995).