Most clematis are 'gross feeders' and love a bucket of well rotted manure mixed into the planting hole, advises Jane Powers
I don't grow enough clematis. And since my over-enthusiastic secateurs put an unexpected end to an enormous tumble of the yellow Clematis tangutica, my collection is now down to single figures. "It's called drastic pruning," I explained loftily to my friend who watched horrified as I butchered the plant. "Don't worry, you'll see little green shoots appearing from those bumps on the wood in just a couple weeks," I assured her. Now, after a year-and-a-half of weeks, the bumps have failed to give birth, and my plant is, rather obviously, dead as a dodo.
Being a late-flowering variety (from mid summer to mid autumn), it blooms (when it's not dead) on shoots made earlier in the year. With this kind of clematis, it is perfectly in order to give it a hard prune in early spring, which is what I did. Its demise, I suspect, was owing to the fact that I neglected it after surgery - when I should have given it a lovely long drink of water, a boost of fertiliser, and a comforting mulch of well-rotted manure. Instead, I left it to fend for itself in the dry old soil while some other matter claimed my attention.
This particular clematis was doubly valuable as its pendant canary-yellow flowers were followed by long-lasting, fluffy seed heads - which made amusing embellishments for Christmas garlands. But never mind, its death has opened up an opportunity to plant another clematis, after I entomb the reproachful skeleton in the compost heap.
It's worth mentioning here that if a clematis succumbs to that dreadful, fast-moving fungal disease, wilt (Phoma clematidina), you must not replant another in the same space, unless you replace the soil. Otherwise, lingering spores may infect the new resident. But when you've quite simply killed a clematis through neglect or error, then it's fine to plant away again. Most clematis are "gross feeders" (I love that term), and appreciate a bucket of well-rotted manure mixed into the planting hole.
Wilt, incidentally, first appeared in the 1880s, about 20 years into a clematis breeding frenzy that saw the creation of hundreds of new hybrids. I've just been reading about this in a new Royal Horticultural Society book, Clematis, by Charles Chesshire.
The disease can be dramatic (and must have been shocking to those early clematis lovers): a healthy plant suddenly appears to be suffering from drought, but water fails to revive it, and in a matter of days it may collapse entirely. The combination of wilt and the onset of the first World War put many clematis nurseries out of business.
Chesshire's book, with its gorgeously seductive photographs by Andrew Lawson, has whetted my appetite not just for a replacement for my slain plant, but for further reinforcements throughout the garden. After all, as the author points out, the preferred dimension of clematis is upwards, so they're easy to accommodate in even the smallest space. Indeed, he mentions a British gardener who grows over 200 varieties in a 15 by 10 metre space - along with lawn, terrace and sundry shrubs. (But with nearly 300 species and 1,000 hybrids, it must be difficult for ardent clematarians to restrain themselves.)
Chesshire's book starts off with a potted history of the genus, full of interesting titbits. Clematis tangutica, for instance, was first discovered in 1898 in Tibet in the province of Tangut - which gave it its name. And C. armandii, the Chinese, white-flowered, evergreen stalwart for clothing a large, sheltered wall was introduced in 1900. So, these two popular clematis species are relatively recent arrivals from the east.
In the 1950s, a new generation of clematis raisers emerged, making up a truly global network stretching across four continents. Breeding has progressed apace, and fine new plants are continually issuing from Japan, Canada, USA, New Zealand, Estonia, Poland, the Ukraine and Sweden.
Clematis is known as "the queen of climbers" - and how she does climb! See how our native traveller's joy (C. vitalba) and the Chinese C. montana fling themselves up electricity poles and trees to show off their proud crowns of blossom many metres in the sky. She climbs not with tendrils, but with leaf stalks (or petioles to be pedantic) that opportunistically twist around anything suitable in their path. The petioles aren't long enough to embrace heavy trellis or other bulky supports, but a layer of chicken wire will provide purchase - or you can tie the shoots in regularly (which requires vigilance).
The queen of climbers lacks the twining petioles in some species of "herbaceous clematis", when she becomes the queen of leaners - slinking up through other plants in a border, or lounging against a framework of bamboo or twigs. Two of the best-known leaners are C. integrifolia with its nodding, slightly twisted flowers, and C. recta, which has small, starry white flowers. According to Charles Chesshire, they are not used to over-fertile soil in their native habitats, so keep their diet simple - rather than royal.
Clematis, by Charles Chesshire, is published by Quadrille (£20 in UK).
www.helpmefind.com/clematis... catalogue of 1000 species and cultivars.
www.buttercupsonline.com... home of the international Ranunculaceae Society, founded in Ireland last November. A expanding resource on members of this plant family, including clematis.
"Our own" international clematis expert, Mary Toomey, has designed a special, wide-bottomed terracotta pot for growing a clematis and a rose together. This is available from Kiltrea Bridge Pottery, Enniscorthy, Co Wexford, 054-35107, costing €80.