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Elisabeth C. Miller Library

Archives: Plant Answer Line Q & A

Plant Answer Line questions and answers.

comparing Carl English and Elisabeth Miller

Do you have any materials written by Elisabeth Miller? I work at the Carl S. English, Jr. Botanical Garden at the Ballard Locks, and I’m interested in comparing her approach to gardening with Carl English’s. Carl did not write much about his work, and I’m curious if I can learn more about him from other people’s work.

I want to learn more about Carl’s guiding ideas about horticulture so in the future we can continue to cultivate a garden that he could still recognize. I’m trying to pin down some concrete guidelines on what and how we add to the botanical collection here in the garden. The more information I have about and from Carl, the better I hope to answer this question.

It’s also interesting to juxtapose Betty and Carl’s careers and outputs. It helps me place his actions in the context of what was going on horticulturally during their working careers.

On the face of it, the two plant-lovers had very different approaches to gardening and life.

Betty (1914-1994) was an activist and advocate for public gardens and green space in the city, but her primary garden was and remains inside a gated community. As far as I know she never ran a business of any kind, although she worked with local nonprofit groups and believed in horticultural education. She was active in the Garden Club of America and the American Horticultural Society. One of her proud accomplishments was raising $40,000 for a comprehensive approach to planting the Lake Washington Ship Canal, a project that brought her into collaboration with the Army Corps of Engineers.

We have in our archives here several things Betty Miller wrote for publication:

  • V. 53 issue 2, 1974, American Horticulturist article “Why Green Turns Brown.”
  • Winter 1978 Arboretum Bulletin article “Challenge to Maintain the Green Scene.”
  • 10/1979,  American Forests magazine issue with article “Seattle’s Freeway Park” by Betty Miller.
  • Summer 1982, “The Roots of the N.O.H.S,” by Betty Miller, reprinted from Horticulture Northwest.
  • 1982 Puget Soundings article “There is Always a Garden.”
  • Her chapter from Rosemary Verey’s 1984 book, The American Woman’s Garden, where she writes about her garden.

There is also an interesting list of biographical data on Betty Miller that I would guess she wrote herself in the late 80s or early 90s.

This 1996 article by David Laskin in the Seattle Weekly gets into more detail about Betty’s personality:

So does Ted Marston’s remembrance of her from the Autumn 1994 Garden Notes (a Northwest Horticultural Society publication). He spoke with Mareen Kruckeberg, Dick Brown, Steve Lorton, Michael Lynn and others about their memories of Betty.

Carl (1904-1976) moonlighted with his nursery business, and of course the gardens named for him at the Locks are a beloved public institution. He participated in plant exchanges with arboreta around the world and joined plant societies worldwide, including the American Horticultural Society, the Scottish Rock Garden Club, the Alpine Garden Society of England, and others. Native plants of this region were also of interest to him and his wife Edith; they botanized and contributed specimens to herbaria. On a personal level, he was said to be outdoorsy, friendly, and a valued member of groups. He gave lectures and led field trips to the mountains.

In our archives, you can read this article by Carl English:

  • Summer 1972, “The Garden at the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks in Seattle,” American Horticulturist, 3 pp.

This promotional text he likely wrote as well:

  • 4/1962, Locks brochure with cover photo of welcome sign and building (see “Seven Acres of Gardens” on the back, which Carl may have written himself.)
  • 1969 “Green Palms” brochure.

Here is a piece about him written before he died in 1976:

  • 9/1957, “Plantsmen in Profile, Carl S. English Jr.” by William J. Dress, rpt. from “Baileya,” 6 pp. (reprinted in Horticulture Northwest, vol. 11, no. 4, 1984 with a different picture of Carl)

We also have obituaries and remembrances of him.

HistoryLink has a couple of articles that may interest you. This is their perspective on Carl S. English, Jr. They also host this article, where Art and Mareen Kruckeberg count both Betty and Carl among their friends.

 

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moving Eremurus

For a couple of years, someone has been eating the flowering stalk of one of our foxtail lilies. I thought these bulbs were resistant to critters because of their bitter taste, and I can only speculate that it’s an intrepid squirrel climbing the rose that overhangs the stalk, and nibbling the developing flower like corn-on-the-cob. I’d like to save it from being eaten every spring. Can the plant be moved, and when would be the best time to do it?

You are correct that Eremurus is generally considered unappetizing to deer, rabbits, and other creatures. If you have acrobatic squirrels, then placing the foxtail lily in a more open spot (with nothing overhanging it) that also has excellent drainage and ample sun might help. However, these bulbs are sensitive to transplanting and their shallow but widely spreading roots are fragile. It is best to wait until the leaves have died back and the plant is entering dormancy (late summer to early fall). Have a new planting hole ready to accommodate the roots, which are octopus- or starfish-shaped. According to Chicago Botanic Garden, the hole should be about 15 inches wide and six inches deep with a shallow mound in the middle over which you can drape the roots.

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identifying Shortia

Jennifer Rose

I saw this unusual flower in a Portland park. What is it?

This is Shortia galacifolia, also called Oconee Bells, a spring-blooming low-growing evergreen perennial native to Georgia, the Carolinas, and parts of Tennessee and Virginia (in southeastern woodlands within the boundaries of Cherokee lands). It is rare in the wild. It was first ‘discovered’ by plant explorer André Michaux in 1788 (with help from Cherokee guides) and not ‘found’ again for almost a century (by Asa Gray). It was known to the Cherokee long before Michaux and Gray became fascinated by it. Its Cherokee name is ‘shee-show,’ two-colored plant of the gods. Because it grows near the water’s edge, it is said to be a harbinger of spring rain. The common name Oconee is derived from Cherokee, Ae-quo-nee, meaning ‘land beside water.’

You can learn more about it from garden writer Charles Elliott’s two-part essay, The Long Trail of Shortia, linked here and here. There is also an essay about its discovery and rediscovery on the Harvard University Herbaria & Libraries website. It is clear from Michaux’s own documentation that Indigenous people knew a great deal about this plant (“I came back to the camp with my guide at the head of the Keowee and gathered a large quantity of the low woody plants with the saw-toothed leaves that I found the day I arrived. I did not see it on any other mountain. The Indians of the place told me that the leaves had a good taste when chewed and the odor was agreeable when they were crushed, which I found to be the case”), but Michaux and Gray, like so many non-Indigenous plant explorers, did not question the decidedly Eurocentric bias behind the idea of plant discovery and classification.

 

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making biochar at home

I am interested in making biochar in my small urban garden, and using it to amend my soil. Do you have resources on how to go about this?

We have a few books on this topic. Biochar for Environmental Management is for large-scale landscapes, and Gardening with Biochar (Jeff Cox, Storey Publishing, 2019) is a how-to for home gardeners. I recommend that you first read WSU professor Linda Chalker-Scott’s fact sheet, Biochar: A Home Gardener’s Primer. Cox’s book offers directions for making a TLUD (Top Lift Up-Draft) stove for pyrolysis (combustion of organic matter with restricted air flow). If created properly, biochar is a good way of sequestering carbon instead of releasing it. However, Chalker-Scott says “proper pyrolysis is impossible to achieve at home since oxygen is present and temperatures are too low. Improper cooking also generates carbon dioxide and other pollutants. You are better off using pruning debris and other home-garden wastes in your compost pile or on top of your soil as a natural and sustainable organic mulch layer. Ideally, biochar can be made commercially from excess crop residues, invasive plant species, such as kudzu and English ivy, and other organic materials that might otherwise end up in landfills.” Biochar is available for sale from some nurseries, much as you might purchase compost.

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what is the Tree of the Sad Night?

The Miller Library has Augustine Henry’s own copy of the seven-volume The Trees of Great Britain and Ireland (co-written with Henry John Elwes, 1909-1913) , and we discovered his handwritten note referring to the tree of the Noche Triste (Sad Night) in Mexico, citing an 1896 article describing the Tree of the Sad Night as Cupressus mexicana. We wanted to know what a note about Cupressus was doing in among the Taxodium pages (instead of in volume 5, with Cupressus species, including C. mexicana).

The placement of that note turns out to be meaningful, because the classification of C. mexicana has fluctuated over the years and in 1906, Henry himself was responsible for naming Taxodium distichum var. mucronatum, which was at one time called Cuprespinnata mexicana, with common names such as Mexican cypress or Montezuma cypress. The scientific name is still contested: “Most authorities continue to call the ahuehuete Taxodium mucronatum, although there is also widespread support for the name T. distichum var. mexicanum due to molecular studies showing an extremely close similarity between all taxa of Taxodium.” The tree’s name in Nahuatl is ahuehuete, meaning old man of the water, and there are some specimens of impressive vintage in Mexico. The reference to water reflects the ability of this tree to thrive in swampy conditions.

The night in the tree’s name is June 30, 1520, when the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés failed to overcome the Mexica warriors, and was said to have sat down and wept by this tree in Popotla. It is worth noting that conflicts are often complex: Cortés had allies among the indigenous Tlaxala, who were captured or killed along with the Spaniards. The tree was renamed Árbol de la Noche Victoriosa in 2021, marking the 500th anniversary of victory over the Spanish. The preserved remnants of the tree may or may not belong to the tree of legend, but it continues to be an important symbol of Mexican identity.

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are russet apples part pear?

Photo: USDA, Deborah Griscom Passmore

Is there such a thing as an apple-pear hybrid? I have seen some apples with russeted skin referred to as ‘pear apples.’

No, the russeting associated with particular heirloom varieties of apple is neither a disorder nor a sign that the apples are part pear. As with pears, apples come in many shapes, colors, and sizes, and some have smooth skin while others have rougher russeted skin. Examples of russet varieties of apple include Ashmead’s Kernel, Egremont Russet, Golden Russet, Roxbury Russet, and Esopus Spitzenburg. Some russet apples bear a superficial resemblance to Asian pears.

According to fruit expert Orin Martin, “While not all russets taste alike, they do share some taste characteristics. They usually start out sugary, followed by balancing acidity. Volatile aromatic oils usually factor in. The russet experience can make the eater feel they have taken a temperate zone, deciduous fruit and sailed off to subtropical latitudes where the evergreen fruits rule supreme: citrus (especially lemon), guava, banana, pineapple, etc. At the same time (in sequence) you are experiencing the sugar, texture and cell grit of a pear. The latter sensation is most pronounced with Hudson’s Golden Gem.”

Russet apples have a long history. The Brown Russet, also known as Royal Russet, goes back as far as the 1500s in England. In Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 2, Act V, Scene 3, they are referred to as leather-coats:

Shallow (to Falstaff): “Nay you shall see mine orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year’s pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth. [….]”

Davey: “There’s a dish of leather-coats for you.”

flowers and fruit on Arbutus unedo

My Strawberry tree (Arbutus unedo) is 8 years old, and very lovely, but the hummingbirds and bees don’t seem to find it. The tree has had some blossoms over the years, but only 1 “strawberry.” Now it has many blossoms. Can I help it by hand-pollinating?

I first saw Arbutus unedo growing in Greece while on a Christmas holiday hiking trip. So I returned home with the dream of a real live tree, self- decorated with red, yellow and orange baubles! My tree is lovely and green as I look out the window, but I may need to hang the decorations. Should I be out there now with a paintbrush and hope for strawberries next Christmas?

There are several factors that affect the fruiting of Arbutus unedo. You don’t mention a cultivar name, so I’m assuming that your plant is the species, Arbutus unedo, which is usually propagated from seeds. Seedling plants are variable, unlike cultivars, which are grown from cuttings (hence, genetic clones). It’s likely that some seed-grown plants do not fruit reliably. An Australian article notes that “vegetatively propagated plants will fruit faster and more predictably than seedlings.”

Another factor is that the flowers and ripened fruits appear on the plant at the same time. Your plant has flowered sparsely until this year, so it’s possible that fruit will form in the next several months, ripening next fall.

The University of Washington Botanic Gardens blog has an entry about this plant: “The flowers are in clusters of tiny white bells (similar to its related genera Arctostaphylos, Pieris, and Enkianthus) and are present October to December while the 1” round fruits of the previous year’s pollination are ripening on the tree.  The fruits take 10-12 months to ripen; from green in the spring they begin to turn yellow then orange through summer then ripen to a bright red from October to December at which time they are edible.”

Local non-profit Great Plant Picks indicates that a protected location is also a factor: “Foliage and flowers may be damaged in unusually cold winters, but it will recover in the spring. Plants in protected locations are more reliable fruit producers.”  Other sources stress the need for a warm, relatively sunny location. Unfortunately, strawberry tree doesn’t transplant well, so if yours is planted in a shady location, transplanting it is probably not an option.

Even though Arbutus unedo is self-fertile, fruiting is greatly improved by planting more than one tree. On my own walks in Seattle parks, I’ve noticed that strawberry trees planted in groups of two or more seem to fruit prolifically.

Strawberry tree is attractive to many forms of wildlife but is pollinated by bees. If your garden lacks other plants that attract bees, I recommend adding bee-pollinated shrubs, perennials and/or annuals that flower earlier in the year to increase the chances that bees will remain there in fall.

Finally, does your site have what Arbutus unedo needs to grow well, remain healthy, and develop fruit? “This versatile shrub tolerates a wide variety of soil conditions including sand and clay, but it must have a well-drained location.” (Great Plant Picks).  It’s drought tolerant when established but may be damaged if not given supplemental water during the very hot and dry conditions the Pacific Northwest has experienced, especially in the last several years. Even using a high nitrogen fertilizer will affect fruiting, promoting leaf and stem growth instead of flowers and fruit.

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Baptisia from seed

I saved seedpods from my Baptisia this fall, and wonder about the best way to grow this plant from seed—when to sow, etc.

According to The Gardener’s A-Z Guide to Growing Flowers from Seed to Bloom (Eileen Powell, Storey Publishing, 2004), you can sow directly outdoors in late autumn or early spring at a depth of ¼ inch.

You can also start seed indoors six to eight weeks before the last frost. Germination time varies from 5 to 36 days. Powell recommends soaking the seeds in warm water for 24 hours, and then chipping them with a knife. Keep at 70-75 degrees F once sown. Transplant after the last spring frost, or in early autumn. Baptisia likes full sun to light shade, and well-drained soil. Plants grown from seed may take a couple of years to settle into the garden.

Miriam Goldberger, author of Taming Wildflowers (2014) and proprietor of Wildflower Farm, has additional advice, including an alternate outdoor method of putting sown seeds in potting medium out in late fall to winter to allow natural cold stratification (this applies only if your winters are cold enough!). “The seed will germinate in the pots in spring as the weather warms up. Be sure to water the pots regularly in spring and once the plants are 5 cm (2 inches) tall, transplant them into your garden.”

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aromatic Devil’s club

I came across a reference to the aromatic scent of Devil’s club, and wondered which part of the plant is fragrant, and how it is used.

Despite its daunting common name and repellent species name, the wood of Oplopanax horridus, particularly the inner bark, is said to be sweetly aromatic. According to an article, “Devil’s Club (Oplopanax horridus): An Ethnobotanical Review” from HerbalGram (Spring 2014, Issue 62), the Makah tribe has used an unspecified part of the plant much as one would use talcum powder for infants. This is elaborated upon by Erna Gunther’s Ethnobotany of Western Washington (1973), which says that Green River peoples dry the bark and pulverize it for use as a deodorant.

Other tribes have used an infusion of the bark as a skin wash. Nancy J. Turner’s Ancient Pathways, Ancestral Knowledge (2014), mentions that “bathing in a solution of devil’s club is said to make one strong,” and so the plant might be used prior to contests of strength or hunting.

[By coincidence, there is a common perfume ingredient with a very similar name, opopanax, but it is derived neither from Opopanax (in the Apiaceae) nor Oplopanax (in the Araliaceae). Some say its source is the resin of Commiphora guidottii (a plant in the Apiaceae that is native to Ethiopia and Somalia), and goes by the names scented myrrh, bissabol, and habak hadi. Others say it is derived from the flowers of sweet acacia, Vachellia farnesiana (Fabaceae).]

 

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the plant source of fragrant oud

I am reading a book set in India, and the word ‘oud’ is used to describe a substance used for fragrance inside a house. Is it from a plant? Is it related to the musical instrument?

Oud is one name for a fragrance derived from an evergreen tree called Aquilaria, also known as aloeswood, aloes, eaglewood, or the Wood of the Gods. There are a number of species, and several are listed as threatened or endangered (primarily because of overharvesting to meet high demand). The tree is called agar in Hindi (agarbati, the word for incense, means ‘lighted aloeswood’). Small chips of the wood are burned to release the resinous aroma, and have the added benefit of repelling mosquitos. The resin can also be processed into an essential oil. The fragrance has been used (in ritual and as a sign of status) since as far back in time as 1400 B.C.E., in Egypt, Mesopotamia, Greece, Rome, China, and India. It is mentioned in the Hebrew Song of Songs and Psalms, in ancient Indian Vedas, in the Materia Medica of Dioscorides (65 C.E.), and Buddhist and Islamic texts.

Stress or damage to the tree is the reason the wood is so aromatic. According to Elise Pearlstine’s Scent: A Natural History of Perfume (Yale University, 2022), “they are not important timber trees […] but sometimes a tiny invading fungus, a small injury, or perhaps a boring insect sets in motion a mysterious protective process that produces a dark and aromatic resinous feathered pattern within the living wood.”

The word ‘oud literally means wood, and it is also the source of the name of the wooden stringed instrument. In fact, the English word lute and its European variants are also derived from ‘oud, by combining the Arabic definite article al with ‘oud.

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