The flowers really do have a remarkable ability to cope with the competition of other plants, being defeated only by anything which grows taller and shades them—even then, they may carry on growing for many years without flowering.
Of the temperate world’s floral spectacles, it is bulbs which provide some of the best: English bluebells and snowdrops; cyclamen and crocus in many places in southern Europe and Turkey; and of course wild daffodils. Truly wild daffodils can be spectacular in France, but perhaps the finest display is in the valley of Khust, in Zakarpats’ka Oblast in Ukraine, where a Poeticus type flowers on the very edge of the range of the species, in vast quantities. Beyond their natural range, a number of bulbous plants have naturalised: species which are introduced to a location with a climate not too dissimilar to that in their native land, and which have a strongly perennial character, and which, crucially, reproduce to form clumps. Snowdrops have taken to woods in the British Isles and in the Netherlands, creeping out from cultivated populations. So have daffodils, as they have also done in some places in the United States. Britain’s two species of “wild” daffodils are almost certainly introductions of great antiquity. There is a population of Narcissus obvallaris around Tenby in south Wales, and a widely scattered number of N. pseudonarcissus. Theories abound regarding the origin and distribution of these. We have seen that there is possibly a link with Medieval monasteries; a Roman introduction has also been suggested.
Daffodils which have “gone feral” tend to form localised colonies—hotspots. Unlike most garden plants, which simply get swamped and die out in the face of more robust and better-adapted native vegetation, daffodils keep on coming back; their ability to grow early in the year gives them an advantage, particularly vis-à-vis grasses. Hybrids, or “unnatural” variants like doubles, seem to survive just as strongly as species, although they do not usually seed. The ability of such “unnatural” garden varieties to survive and slowly spread among native vegetation is almost unique among garden plants; double snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) are one of the few others. Their constantly coming back reminds us annually of long-forgotten gardens and growers.
The sixteenth-century barber/surgeon, herbalist, and writer John Gerard wrote that daffodils grew “almost everywhere through England,” which is often quoted to suggest that the plants have been hugely reduced in numbers over the centuries. No one else mentions their having been common, however, and the evidence of their naming suggests that they were never particularly well known. The colourful pockets of the plant at high density strongly suggest that they are an introduced species; however, like much of the European flora, they were almost certainly native in Britain before the Ice Age.
At Acorn Bank in Cumbria, “wild” Narcissus pseudonarcissus has naturalised alongside daffodil cultivars which were planted in the 1930s. They have cross-bred to produce a range of flower shapes and sizes. It is debatable whether modern daffodil varieties would have the same capacity to similarly hybridise.
Among the populations of garden daffodils which have “gone native,” ‘Telamonius Plenus’ is particularly interesting. An old double variety (pre-1620), it has been reported from nearly sixty different places in old gardens across Britain, in some cases appearing to disappear and then reappear, possibly because repeated mowing early in the year so weakens the bulbs that they stop flowering, and then with leaves which are so similar to grass, they become practically invisible. An example was its flowering for the first time in living memory in 1995 on the National Trust–owned Gibside estate near Newcastle-upon-Tyne in northern England. An early introduction to the United States, it is also known from several old east coast American gardens.
Of all daffodil hotspots, the most mysterious are the populations of daffodils associated with the Cherokee Nation in the United States, specifically in Oklahoma. Areas associated with the Cherokee are rich in Narcissus pseudonarcissus and several old varieties, including ‘Telamonius Plenus’ and ‘Butter and Eggs’ (pre-1777). One well-known site is a cemetery near a late nineteenth-century Cherokee courthouse at Saline in the northeastern part of the state. Another is the Ross Cemetery, near Park Hill, where John Ross is buried; Ross was chief of the Cherokee Nation at the time of the infamous “Trail of Tears,” when ethnic cleansing by the U.S. government drove the Cherokee from their homeland in Georgia and neighbouring states. It is thought possible by some daffodil experts that the Cherokee brought the bulbs with them, as they were well established in the eastern United States by the time of the expulsion.
The most predictable hotspots are of course in places which have always been gardens. Here, however, they can still raise questions. The spectacular drifts at Acorn Bank, a property owned by the National Trust in Cumbria, northern England, encompass both Narcissus pseudonarcissus and a variety of hybrids. Does the N. pseudonarcissus date back to Medieval times, when the area was an outpost of the mysterious Knights Templar order? The mix of hybrids is known to date back to the writer Dorothy Una Ratcliffe (1887–1967), who bought the property in 1934. One theory is that she bought a job-lot of “rejects” from the Backhouse family, in which case many unnamed crosses or stray unidentified bulbs would have ended up being planted here. Heirloom daffodil experts Kate and Duncan Donald, however, think that this is unlikely. They have a term for this kind of mix—“Spanish meadow,” arguing that many wild forms were imported into Britain in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, by dealers such as Barr, and that these have cross-bred with N. pseudonarcissus over the years, and some older varieties, to produce what plant ecologists call a hybrid swarm, a complex mass of continually hybridising individuals, much as is sometimes found naturally in Spain with wild species.
‘Telamonius Plenus’ (also known as ‘Wilmer’s Double Golden Daffodil’ and ‘Double Van Sion’, among several others) is an old English variety, dating back to the early seventeenth century at least. It is capable of surviving and spreading over time through bulb increase (i.e., perennialising, not naturalising, which involves seeding), and there are some colonies which may be centuries old.
Gardens around the homes of well-known breeders from daffodil history are also fascinating places to wander and see a variety of flowers. Nothing is identified, and so it is impossible to tell whether you are looking at a plant that went on to a great future or was used for further breeding or simply thrown out as inadequate but then took root and thrived. The Rev. Engleheart’s old garden at Little Clarendon in Wiltshire in southern England is one such well-known place for daffodil lovers. The small size of the flowers, compared to modern ones, ensures that they fit into the country scene. Daffodil enthusiasts can wander around and look for the varieties for which Engleheart was famous, often not finding them, but instead finding flowers that are almost but not quite the right ones. It is a living illustration of the breeding process, a collection of plants from which winners were chosen, but where the losers did not die on the compost heap as they do with the rejects from most breeding programmes.
The Golden Triangle
THE BIGGEST AND OLDEST DAFFODIL HOTSPOT
THE WILD DAFFODILS of the English Lake District, with their Wordsworth associations, are the most well known. The largest concentration, however, is the area around the town of Newent and the villages of Dymock and Kempley on the Gloucestershire/Herefordshire border, dubbed the “Golden Triangle” early in the twentieth century. Quite why the plant should be here in such huge quantities is impossible to say; at some stage the plant must have appeared and then had better opportunities to survive and spread than elsewhere. One reason must surely be to do with the fact that for much of the post-Medieval period there has been a relatively high proportion of open woodland, its preferred habitat. Where woodland is kept open through selective felling and coppicing—both traditional management practices—conditions are perfect for certain bulbs: wild daffodils, wild garlic (Allium ursinum), and English bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta). The reason is that there is enough shade to suppress grass but enough li
ght early in the year for the bulbs. Grazing, by sheep, cattle, or pigs, also helped reduce the bramble, the greatest enemy of bulbs.
Narcissus pseudonarcissus genuinely naturalises, in that it seeds vigorously, with plants flowering in five years from germination; old churchyards are a favourite place, especially given the recent wildflower-friendly management trend—as here, wild daffodils at Jesus Church, Troutbeck, Windermere, Cumbria 1. Narcissus pseudonarcissus in Farndale in the North York Moors National Park in northern England attracts tens of thousands of visitors every year 2.
The Gloucestershire/Herefordshire border area had long had an association with fruit growing, largely for the production of cider (hard cider to Americans) and perry (an equally alcoholic version made with pears). During the nineteenth century, fruit growing greatly expanded, as now the arrival of railways allowed growers to send their fruit off to the rest of the country, where an increasingly wealthy population was beginning to eat a healthier diet.
By the late nineteenth century a wildflower became an economic resource, as daffodil flowers could now be sent to local markets. Daffodil production became a by-product of fruit-growing—the grass below the trees would be cut in late summer to make it easier to pick windfalls, which ensured that there would be reduced grass competition when the flowers emerged in spring; they would also be easier to pick. After World War I, Toc H, a Christian service organisation, promoted the picking of daffodils to cheer up hospital patients, and also began to sell daffodils at hospitals to raise money. Commercial picking also took off, especially since flowers were usually available for Mothering Sunday (the fourth Sunday of Lent), traditionally the beginning of the gardening season in Britain.
During the late nineteenth century and early twentieth, the income from picking daffodils actually became quite important, as it was the only independent income for agricultural labourers in the area, doubly welcome for it being at a time of year when there were few other sources of income. Others joined in too, especially Gypsies and casual workers from the Midlands. The flowers became an early tourist attraction, with a special Daffodil Line train running between the villages and the nearby town of Newent. Visitors came from the Midlands, and from the conurbations of South Wales and Bristol. However, with the closure of Dymock Station in 1959 and the line being pulled up, interest flagged for several decades.
The 1960s and 1970s were a bad time for the daffodils, as they were for wildlife and wildflowers generally in Britain. Rising populations and rising meat consumption globally drove agricultural intensification. Many orchards were ripped up and converted to arable (largely for grain and potato production), so the daffodils were increasingly being limited to the hedges. This was also a period when local governments started to “tidy up” road verges, cutting the vegetation in May or June, just as the daffodils were about to set seed. The invention of nylon cord brushcutters was more bad news—now country churchwardens could ensure that the unruly grass around gravestones in churchyards was kept tidy, too.
From the 1990s onwards appreciation of the daffodils began to grow again. With more and more walkers crisscrossing the fields around Dymock and Kempley, “daffodil teas,” which had been held for over fifty years by local village churches to raise money, became increasingly popular. The tourism potential of the area at daffodil time has now been fully recognised, with pamphlets showing the best places to see the flowers and a circular walk of 14km (9 miles) along local footpaths around some of the best locations. Now over three thousand people descend on the area over two weekends in late March and early April. Flowering time depends on the weather, so occasionally the events have to be rescheduled.
It is thought the Farndale daffodils originated with the monks of nearby Rievaulx Abbey. Though this photo would suggest their numbers are secure, they are protected, and the public are banned from picking them.
A number of initiatives have focussed on conserving the daffodils, notably the Golden Triangle Wild Daffodil Rehabilitation Project, coordinated by a local garden designer and environmental campaigner Chris Bligh. Since 2003 volunteers have systematically recorded wild daffodil locations, collected seed, and worked with local landowners, such as the Forestry Commission, to improve habitat in woodland owned by them. Since 2010, with funding from the National Grid (an energy infrastructure body), the Golden Triangle Project is working to re-create a mile of daffodil and wildflower habitat along roads and footpaths around the villages at the centre of the area. Seventy-five local people have undertaken to each grow a thousand daffodils in plug trays, so that young plants can then be planted out in selected road verges and community locations such as churchyards, eventually to flower and seed themselves further.
Raising awareness of the flowers and their correct management is also an aim. Churchyards in particular have seen some spectacular recoveries of daffodils and other wildflowers, as the awareness of them as wildlife sanctuaries has grown, and management regimens changed to become more flower-friendly. The bulbs can survive for many years as part of pasture or occasionally mown grass, even if prevented from flowering; so that once a field or churchyard is managed properly, former daffodil fields can recover, and more visitors to the Golden Triangle can appreciate the sight of thousands of pale yellow flowers spattering the spring grass.
Narcissus pseudonarcissus grows in large numbers in a variety of habitats in the area around Newent, Gloucestershire, with open woodland, roadsides, and orchards being particularly favoured places. Highway embankments are now being colonised, too; indeed it is an irony that these places, so inhospitable to us, are now among the best wildflower habitats in Britain.
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Daffodils in the Garden
A great many daffodils are planted thus: 1) dig hole, 2) throw in bulbs, 3) replace soil. They go on to thrive, as did many of those flung into hedges during wartime, when flower producers had to go over to food production. Daffodils are survivors, and their popularity is undoubtedly linked to their being so easy, vigorous, and indestructible.
A little care, however, reaps greater rewards, while a little understanding of the plant’s natural cycle helps us appreciate why certain practices are helpful and others not.
Soil, situation, early growth, and planting
THE IDEAL SOIL for daffodils is a deep well-cultivated fertile loam with plentiful humus, and moisture from autumn until early summer at least. The abundance and health of daffodils in damp west coast climates like Ireland and Cornwall does indicate how much constant moisture is appreciated. Poor drainage is not, however, and can result in a variety of fungal diseases causing decay and death. Those who garden on badly drained land, where water stands for long periods on the soil surface, should consider growing daffodils in raised beds.
Although daffodils appreciate fertility, the level of plant nutrients in most soils is enough for their requirements. On very poor or thin soils, additional phosphorus and potash may be needed, supplied by slow-release fertilisers such as bonemeal. Generous helpings of stable or farmyard manure, as beloved by traditional gardeners, are not necessarily beneficial and might even cause problems, with excessive nitrogen leading to soft, sappy leaf growth. Compost from well-decayed plant waste is a better way of adding humus to soils without high levels of nitrogen.
Daffodils need light but can be grown in the partial shade of deciduous trees, open woodland being the natural habitat of some species. Too deep a shade, and they may start to come up “blind,” i.e., all leaf and no flower. Flowers will turn to face the sun, which is something to be borne in mind when planting.
Unlike bulbs from more continental climates, such as tulips and the tall “drumstick” alliums, daffodils start root growth early, in late summer or autumn. They do, however, need cool conditions to initiate this growth, below 12.7C (55F), and at least six weeks between this temperature and freezing. During this time there is a change in the chemistry of the bulb, which produces chemicals that act as an anti-freezing agent, enabling them to survive soil freezing. In an ideal
world, bulbs would be planted in August, but bulb companies rarely make them available until September. The sooner they can be planted the better, with November being the latest advisable for areas with mild or cool winters, such as northern Europe or the American West Coast; however, in regions with severe winters, where soils freeze to great depth, such as much of the American Midwest or Northeast, planting must be done by mid-October, otherwise the “antifreeze” process will fail, and bulbs may be destroyed by ice crystals forming in them.
When planting, a good rule of thumb is that the depth of soil above the neck of the bulb should be twice the height of the bulb. In situations where frequent soil cultivation is likely, they can be planted deeper. Breaking up the soil at the bottom of the planting hole helps them to root down quickly. Bulbs will eventually find their own depth and those who have got involved with heirloom daffodil projects and start to dig up old clumps will observe how deep the bulbs can be. How far apart? If an instant group effect is wanted, they can be planted 5 to 7cm (2 to 3 inches) apart, but it will be only a few years before their growth will cause crowding. Ten to 15cm (4 to 6 inches) is generally regarded as a sensible compromise between a group effect and giving them plenty of space. If a variety is known to be slow to increase, it can be planted more tightly. As will be discussed, very sparse planting may be appropriate in borders dominated by perennials.
Labelling bulbs is important if there is any desire to know the names of plants when they flower or are lifted and divided in future years. Labels easily get lost, broken, or rendered illegible, and because there is no branch to tie them to, or clump of roots to stick them into, labels get detached from bulbs with great ease. Aluminium or copper labels are the only ones which are truly indestructible and can be written on with simple pencil—on thin metal, the action of writing impresses the text, so making it very long-lived indeed. If the label is attached to a long, thin piece of wire, it is possible to mark clumps of bulbs very securely; this method also allows the label to be held securely close to the soil surface, if the wire is plunged in deeply enough. Those who are especially concerned to avoid identity crises can mark planting positions with plastic rings buried just below the soil surface to surround small clumps—these can easily be made by hacksawing up old plastic flower pots. The cognoscenti plant their bulbs in plastic nets to make absolutely sure that varieties do not get muddled.
The Daffodil Page 11