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by Michael Weishan
Late summer is the ideal season to take a close, critical look
at your lower border. By now, the sections of the bed that succeeded
are in lorious bloom, amply rewarding your time and effort. As
for those that didn t do too well, it s time to think about adding
new plants to enhance your garden, many of which can be started
now from seed for bloom next year. Here are ten of my favorites
for the period border. See Sources for keyed information on nurseries.
Foxglove
Introduced to America in the mid-18th century, the Purple or Common
Foxglove, Digitalis purpurea, had been a favorite in European
gardens since the Middle Ages. Precisely where the plant s name
originated is a bit of a mystery. One theory is that foxglove
derives from the Anglo Saxon foxes-gleow, a type of musical instrument
with bells, which foxglove flowers were said to resemble. The
derivation of the plant s Latin name is slightly clearer: digitalis,
meaning of or belonging to the finger, is a fine way to describe
the plant s small thimble-like flowers. With its tall, graceful
stalks and cascading bell-shaped flowers, the plant was always
a popular ornamental, and doubled as a medicinal plant for healing
bruises, and as a heart stimulant. In the 19th and early 20th
centuries, several cultivars were derived from the popular purpurea,
which added considerably to the available color palate. The white
Alba appeared as early as 1838 in Breck s seed catalog; the spotted,
large-flowered Giant Shirley was introduced by the Reverend Henry
Wilkes in the late 1800s in white, crimson and dark rose; and
the stunning Apricot appeared in the early 1900s.
Once established, foxgloves will generally self-sow at least that
s what the catalogs always say. My own experience, until recently,
had been entirely different. Year after year, I laboriously planted
them in my garden, and after just one bloom they would disappear
forever. As foxgloves are shade plants, I had always assumed they
liked damp soil. Shade equals damp, right? Nothing could be further
from the truth. Foxgloves, it appears, despise moisture around
their base, and will quickly rot in overly-damp conditions: my
experience exactly. Fortunately, this problem is easily solved
by lightening the soil with sand to ensure proper drainage, or
by planting the seedlings on a slope.
Foxgloves can be started from seed in spring or late summer, but
I prefer to sow them in September and hold the little plants over
in a cold frame. Then, early in the following season, I plant
out the seedlings, which will often bloom profusely that very
year. Technically, foxgloves are biennials, blooming, then dying
in their second year, though occasionally they last a few years
longer. That s why either replanting or reseeding for two successive
years is required for continual future bloom. Zone 4. See Sources:
1,3,4,5,6,8.
Elecampane
Elecampane (Inula helenium), also known as Wild Sunflower or Elfwort,
arrived on our shore with the first settlers and became widely
naturalized throughout the East Coast. The plant s history goes
back to Roman times, when its roots, which contain a sweet starch
 called
inulin, were cultivated and used to make a popular candy. Helen
of Troy was said to have been collecting elecampane when she was
abducted, hence the origin of its Latin name. Pliny notes that
the Empress Julia Augusta let no day pass without eating some
of the roots candied, to help the digestion and to cause mirth.
Throughout the Middle Ages, apothecaries sold elecampane root
as an ingredient for making sugary cakes said to relieve asthma
and indigestion. Culpeper, in his herbal of 1649, notes that it
was one of the most beneficial roots nature affords for the help
of the consumptive. For those of you troubled by flower-stealing
neighbors, Stephen Blake suggested another use in his 1664 work
The Complete Gardener's Practice: Sprinkle dry, powdered elecampane
over a bouquet of flowers and present it to the offending party.
Just one sniff will cause them to sneeze until tears run down
their thighs.
Not having the need to punish any horticulturally-larcenous neighbors,
I was unaware of this plant until several years ago, when I first
saw it at Plimoth Plantation. I was immediately impressed by its
large mass towering over my head in a raised bed, bright-yellow
flowers waving in the breeze. Elecampane makes a striking addition
to any border with full sun and a moist and fertile soil. Hardy
to Zone 3 to 9, it can be sown from seed in the spring, or divided
from an existing plant in the fall. Yellow flowers appear in early
summer. Sources: 9
Alchemilla
The first time I read the etymology and history of alchemilla,
I knew I had to have one in my garden. The name comes from the
Arabic meaning little magical one, due both to the herb s reputation
as a healing agent for women s reproductive problems and to the
ability of its leaves to catch the morning dew, while every other
leaf around it remains completely dry. So inexplicable was this
trait, that in the Middle Ages the water collected from  alchemilla
leaves was believed to have magical properties. Alchemilla water
was one of the crucial ingredients in the efforts to turn base
metals into gold, lending its name to the entire process: alchemy.
Given alchemilla s widespread magical reputation, its medicinal
uses for women, and a healthy dose of the if you can t beat them,
join them philosophy, the plant s name was eventually Christianized,
hence its common name: lady s mantle. Precisely when alchemilla
arrived in America is not known, but it was almost undoubtedly
before 1800. Considering its widespread reputation, my guess is
that it was probably much earlier. There are numerous named varieties
of alchemilla, though only three are commonly found in cultivation:
vulgaris, mollis and alpina. The oldest is probably vulgaris,
though mollis is perhaps equally old. Alpina seems to date in
cultivation to about 1850.
The reason for all these probablys and maybes is that alchemilla
can reproduce by apomixis the ability to produce fertile seed
without pollination (yet another bit of alchemilla s magic). This
means that in any given location, the mother plant and any resulting
generations are all genetically identical. Any regional differences
may, over time, result in a slightly altered plant population,
thus making the whole problem of classification rather difficult
and unreliable. No wonder the nomenclature in nurseries is so
often confused. I have seen identical plants labeled one way in
one place and entirely differently in another. In general, mollis
and vulgaris are pretty similar: gray-green plants about 1 1/2
feet in height, which send up delightful sprays of chartreuse
flowers in early summer. Alpina is slightly shorter, rising to
only 1 foot, with smaller leaves. All the species, particularly
the vulgaris, make a lovely gray-green ground cover. Though not
fussy about soil, alchemillas do like a bit of moisture and will
tolerate partial shade, especially in hot climates. They are hardy
from Zones 3-9. Sources: 1,2,3,5,6.
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