Blow-ins such as 'Lucifer' bring essential colour to the Irish garden
It is one of life's little ironies that two of the quintessential and most-photographed flowers of the west of Ireland are not Irish at all. The first of these, the dangly, pink-belled fuchsia (F. magellanica) is a native of South America, while the second, the fiery montbretia, has a more complicated provenance. The gaudy, orange-flowered coloniser of roadsides and banks (correctly known as Crocosmia x crocosmiiflora) is a hybrid, created in 1879 by the French nurseryman, Victor Lemoine, who crossed two South African species, C. aurea and C. pottsii.
Victorian gardeners must have loved this exuberant plant when it was first introduced. It was easy to grow, particularly in milder gardens, where it effortlessly filled midsummer borders with cheery flickers of orange light. However, it had a tendency to become too much of a good thing, as its clumps increased year by year, and new outposts established when corms became detached from the parent group and set up home. Before long, its pretty, warm flames had turned into a raging tangerine-toned wildfire, gobbling up all around it.
Gardeners, when faced with such overeager invaders, did what gardeners have traditionally done for centuries: they turfed unwanted plants over cliffs, into ditches and onto railway embankments. By the early 1930s, according to Sylvia CP Reynolds in her Catalogue of alien plants in Ireland, naturalised montbretia had become frequent in the wild. In marginal places, it soon gained a toehold, and then a stranglehold - and is now, especially in mild areas with acid soil, a dominant species. It's terribly appealing along roads and streams in the southwest of this country, but I can't help wondering what the landscape would look like without it.
Nonetheless, I'm happy enough to have its obstinate presence in my garden, if only because it is a cheap and cheerful source of summer flowers that can be picked without causing me any pain (the invasive Spanish bluebell serves the same purpose in the spring).
Besides the common montbretia, there are more than 100 crocosmia cultivars that have arisen from the same parentage, but most don't exhibit a similar tendency to run amok. One I like a lot (perhaps because it was the first named montbretia I acquired) is 'Solfatare', also known erroneously as 'Solfaterre'. It is an old and venerable variety, bred by Victor Lemoine, and introduced in 1886. It has dainty apricot-coloured flowers, and foliage that is usually described as "bronze", but which is more a smoky, grey-green with a tinge of copper. It is the parent of several other dark-leaved varieties, bred more recently by British plantswoman Phillipa Browne, including the lovely 'Dusky Maiden', with browny-orange flowers.
The naturalised montbretia, and those above, have relatively small flowers, which - to my eyes - are in proportion to the not very substantial, grassy leaves. But if you're after more bang for your floral buck, then look out for 'Star of the East', which has flat-faced, stellar flowers, up to 10cm across, pale-centred and with warm yellow petals. 'Emily McKenzie' has slightly smaller blooms, but at 7cm across, and with purple-blotched, ice-pop orange petals, they're still impressive. (The two plants above, and several other crocosmia varieties are available from Kilmurry Nursery, Ballymoney, Gorey, Co Wexford; 053-9480223; www.kilmurrynursery.com.)
The larger the flowers on a montbretia, the more tender it is, in general. In most parts of Ireland, this doesn't present a problem, but in very cold areas, especially where there are early freezes, the flowers can be spoiled. Plant the corms at least 10cm deep to protect them from ground frost.
Although the progenitors of our garden montbretias are from southern Africa, they do need plenty of moisture during the growing season (they come from regions where there is high summer rainfall). Crocosmia aurea, one of the parents, is a woodland plant, while the other, C. pottsii, grows in nutrient-rich ground near streams, so their descendants like good soil with plenty of organic matter. They will survive in bright sunlight, but not in dry-as-a-bone soil.
The glowing oranges and yellows of montbretias make them sympathetic companions for the late-summer tawny tones of lightweight ornamental grasses, such as Stipa tenuissima and Oryzopsis miliacea. The occasional, purple, airy thing such as Verbena bonariensis or V. hastata helps to make the coppery and brassy flowers burn all the brighter.
There is a second group of crocosmia, beefier and taller than the montbretia kinds, with distinctive pleated leaves. These are mostly hybrids of C. masoniorum and C. paniculata: species that come from mountainous areas of south Africa, which makes them more frost hardy. Most famous of all is 'Lucifer', raised in the 1960s at Bressingham Nurseries in Norfolk by Alan Bloom - who died two years ago, at 98. Its upward-facing, blood-red flowers are carried along the top of the stems, and these reach out enquiringly from the sheaves of leaves, like long-necked, curious animals. The flowering season is a short, flurry of activity, lasting just a few weeks, but the devilish, deep red blooms, and the strong structure make this an essential for any gardener planning a hot border.
'Lucifer' is one of the tallest crocosmias (120cm) that is readily available. The orange-flowered 'Zeal Giant' (up to 180cm) is reputed to be the loftiest, but it's difficult to find for sale in garden centres. These mammoth individuals are perfect candidates for a subtropical planting, as long as you can give them a little room to breathe (as they don't like being crowded). Team them with American cannas, Japanese bananas (Musa basjoo), the annual castor oil plant from North Africa (Ricinus communis) and other big-leaved plants, for a fantastical, picture-book effect - and a little bit of Irish jungle.