Hands up if you’ve ever bought a plant simply because of its name…….not just us then!
This week we’re owning up to being seduced into plant purchases based largely on what’s written on their label. Expect a proliferation of Greek goddesses and literary national treasures from Elaine, some eclectic offerings from Laura. Caroline? No doubt you’ll get plant names that provide giggle-value but little else I’m afraid.
Ever since I was the proud owner of a tender euphorbia whose common name was the ‘fish-stunning spurge’, I have known that the connotations raised by an arresting name can lift the affection you feel for a plant to another level.
So when I found out on a visit to The World Garden in Kent that plant-hunter Tom Hart-Dyke had named his newly discovered salvia cultivar ‘Dad’s Brown Trousers’ as the flowers aged to this hue, and the label actually showed his late father sitting in a deckchair wearing a pair of pinky-buff khaki trousers – then of course I had to have one.
It was the same at Abriachan Nurseries in Scotland this summer when I was admiring a beautiful sultry apricot -coloured rose at its entrance. When Nursery owner David Donaldson told me it was a David Austin rose by the name of ‘Fighting Temeraire’ after the Turner painting of this brave little ship being towed to its final berth at sunset, then it was obvious that I was going to buy one.
Other plants I have fallen for based on their names, and where I have come across them, include the Sisyrinchium ‘Quaint and Queer’ in the fascinating Victorian detached garden complex of Hill Close in the historic town of Warwick. And almost every single one of the Suffolk-raised Benton irises with their gentle, timeless names reminiscent of a by-gone era.
Conversely I have to steel myself to override the dull choices made by some plant breeders. I’m sure that Nora Barlow and Nelly Moser were lovely people but both the aquilegia and the clematis of which they are namesakes sound as though they would be most comfortable on set of ‘Last of the Summer Wine’.
I am a Classicist by profession, and the Latin names for plants have always held a sort of poetry for me – Melianthus major (trans. ‘big honey flower’), Verbena hastata (tr. ‘holy plant shaped like a spear) Acanthus spinosus (tr. ‘jagged, thorny plant’) ……. They are not all as musical-sounding, of course, and the silly schoolgirl in me always has a giggle when I see the genus name of the milk thistle – Silybum.
I deeply appreciate the variety names that tell me exactly what to expect – Anthemis ‘Sauce Hollandaise’, Gladiolus ‘Plum Tart’, Heuchera ‘Marmalade’, Daphne ‘Pink Fragrance’ – yup, I know just what they’re going to do.
Clearly less helpful are the fanciful ones – Salvia ‘Amistad’, Rose ‘Fellowship’, Pansy ‘Beaconsfield’, etc. No inkling from the name of what those are about. My beloved Agapanthus ‘Poppin’ Purple’ at least points you to the right colour, as does my rather pathetically-named Clematis ‘Success Lavender’. Such a lame title for what is in fact a spectacularly long-flowering and attractive climber.
They were giving imaginative names to plants a long time ago – the gorgeous alba rose ‘Cuisse de Nymphe Emue (‘thigh of an emotional nymph’!) was so-named before 1400! We now rather more prosaically know it as ‘Great Maiden’s Blush’. One of my favourite rose-names from recent years is the charmingly picturesque name of ‘Tottering-by-Gently’ – it’s a cracker of a plant too.
And then there are all the ones named after people! I’ve got (Rosa) ‘Sally Holmes’ jostling for border position with (Crocosmia) ‘Emily Mackenzie’, (tree peony) ‘Joseph Rock’ muscling into territory reserved for (Hydrangea) ‘Annabelle’ …. it’s CROWDED out there! There must be so many stories behind them. Not to mention all the plants named after royals. On that subject, I decided that it would be prudent to keep Clematis ‘Prince Charles’ well away from Clematis ‘Meghan’……..just in case…..
‘Louise Bonne of Jersey’ – gave her grand-sounding name to a juicy pear (note the spelling carefully, please! 🤣) whose skin is flushed with red and whose flesh is sweet and melting…….oooh errr. Quite a gal, possibly.
I admit I have in the past chosen plants simply in delicious anticipation of appalling my sisters. As well as frequently shuddering at my ‘below stairs’ plant choices (so things like Bergenia and Begonia, trigger pursed lips before we even get to the variety name), my excitement about plants such as Hydrangea ‘Pinky Winky’, Helenium ‘Magic Roundabout’, or my Japanese anemone ‘Frilly Knickers’ will trigger a full eye-roll.
As you’ll have discovered, they are both horti-snobs. Elaine sighing over anything involving Latin/literary heroes and Laura charmed only by quirky, obscure names for little-known plants. By confirming my status of ‘lightweight’ in almost every aspect of gardening, we are all reassured that nothing changes.
But I will uncharacteristically admit to a little failing of my own. As one gets older, in addition to haemorrhoids and reading glasses, comes nostalgia and sentiment, and all of a sudden any plant related to war heroes or the royal family, starts to have an appeal. Scoff not, it’s coming to you too.
My pocket guide to this phase goes as follows: Clematis ‘Princess Kate’ – ✔️ (very pretty); Sweet Pea ‘Winston Churchill’ – ❌ (disappointing campaign last year); Rose ‘Princess Anne’ – ✔️ (no-nonsense pink); Rose ‘Dame Judi Dench’ – ✔️ (well she’s pretty much royalty isn’t she?).
I note there was a rose developed in the 1950s called Rose ‘Atom Bomb’. Funnily enough it didn’t take off (sic), even though it was a lovely red rose. So plant names do matter apparently. Shakespeare might have claimed: ‘That which we call a rose by any other name, would smell as sweet’…. but we might not necessarily buy it!
We hope you’ve enjoyed our quick romp through the extraordinary world of plant-names. Have you got some favourites of your own? We’d love to hear about them!
Meanwhile a winter stroll around her garden with a friend led Louise to her Great Plant this Month .
Thinking about visiting Scotland this year? Here Caroline talks through some gardens worth visiting when you do.
Bag a bargain! New for 2025, we’ve been working with plant suppliers, to find you some great discount codes, helping you to cut the cost of your gardening year. Have a look at the plant offers here
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27 replies on “Ever fallen for a plant’s name?”
Having known of the Nelly Moser clematis for a long while your article made me go in search of the origin of the name:
Nelly Moser was not a person. The ‘Nelly Moser’ clematis was bred by Marcel Moser in France in 1897. The Moser family was known for being among the most successful plant breeders in Europe at the time. This clematis variety is one of the most popular of all time and was one of the first to be bred with contrasting colored bars on its petals
Hi Diane, Elaine here. Thank you for writing in – yes, it’s fascinating to look into the background of some of these plant names, isn’t it. I was doing much the same during this week while researching for our article, and found out a lot about William Paul, a horticulturalist and writer who died in 1905, and after whom one of my most beloved of rambler roses was named ‘Paul’s Himalayan Musk’. You are absolutely right about ‘Nelly Moser’ being bred by Marcel Moser in Versailles, but she was definitely a person – she was his wife! We hope that you have a brilliant gardening year in 2025.
Many thanks for the additional information, I searched far and wide to identify Nelly but all I found beyond the paragraph in my original post was adverts for the clematis!
Every year I vow no more mail order plants regardless of temptations, not half way through January and my resolution is already broken! Failed to resist an alstroemeria called “Diana” this morning 😐. Couldn’t justify postal costs for just one plant so also ordered some double flowered lily of the valley and an orange Canna. Have never grown Canna before but they were everywhere when I lived in France and I loved seeing them. Very much hoping that 1 bulb might cope with North Yorkshire’s less clement climate.
Many thanks for your weekly blog posts, always enjoy reading them.
That’s the spirit, Diana! You couldn’t justify the P and P for one plant, so you bought two others as well! Glad you like our posts – we have such fun writing them, as you can probably tell🤣. All the best, Elaine
Interesting! Thanks for this!
You’re welcome Glenys!
I too bought the Fighting Temeraire for it’s name, but it was a little disappointing and I left it behind in my old garden without too many regrets.
Now I have The Lark Ascending, also bought for it’s name in memory of a music-loving cousin, but doing much better.
Thanks for this observation Elizabeth, I did wonder why Fighting Temeraire was not better known and I think you’ve just given me the reason! The Lark Ascending is another lovely, evocative name, and must be doubly meaningful if you can attribute it to a family member. Our gardens bring so much sentiment don’t they. Best wishes Laura
I confess to buying Ballota pseudodictamnus just so I could show off by telling all its wonderful name! I then fell for its beautiful felted foliage and it grew happily in my garden for over 20 years!
It was the same with me with Molopospermum peloponnesiacum Celia! Just a wonderful name to trot out to visitors to start with and then I grew to love the plant as well. I’m going to investigate the Ballota now on your recommendation….. thanks for writing in and best wishes Laura
Then there’s Salvia “Hot Lips” named, I imagine, after Nurse Houlihan from ‘Mash’ (if you’re old enough to remember that wonderful TV series!)
Oh Janie – we definitely are! Our mum also loved it so the living room was packed when it came on (no iplayer then). I think we all had a crush on ‘Hawkeye’! Hot Lips Houlihan was a terrific character and well worth having this very popular salvia named after her, if it is. Thank you for this very happy memory ❤️
Absolutely! Just love those crazy French rose names that sound like spells, or curses: ‘Ghislaine de Feligonde’, ‘Cardinal de Richelieu’! But the plants have to be lovely to be given a place, all the same.
You are so right, Cicely – having a beautiful name is only part of the story with plants (and of course, people!) and they must live up to it or lose their spot in the garden. I grow a few of those French roses, including a fantastically beautiful one called ‘Fantin-Latour after the famous painter but as you say, it does sound a bit like a magic spell! Thank you for writing in, all the best, Elaine
Good afternoon Ladies
When working at Dobbies, a woman came in and asked if we had a plant by its cultivar name. Knowing what she meant, I asked her if she could rephrase the sentence as she said “Do you have ‘Hot Lips’?” “Come here and we shall see.” I knew she meant the Salvia.
On a botanical subject. Would you expect Paeonia lactiflora to be white or Campanula lactiflora? It was the white form which was described and named first. Buddleja nivea is purple. It was collected by a local plant hunter who in his native language said to the botanist that it was growing high up the mountain ‘in the snow’ hence nivea meaning white.
I once saw Arab women in Israel harvesting wild Silybum marianum to feed to their goats.
Despite the dire warnings of the weather forecasters as if we have never had a hard winter before, and clicking up another birthday, we are surviving in Edinburgh.
Kind regards
Bill
Hello Bill, lovely to hear from you and as ever you have entertained and educated us with horticultural stories and reminiscences from your long career. The buddleja naming shows just how easy it is for confusion to arise in the complex world of plant nomenclature. With very best wishes Laura
My OH never took Latin in school. So whenever he sees the latin word superbum. (e.g. anthurium superbum), he giggles as says “Super Bum” like a 5 year old. Yeah. He also giggles when he sees “Frilly Knickers” on my want list. Ooh, err.
Oh yes, I’d forgotten about Super Bum! Elaine here, and it’s ridiculous really isn’t it how juvenile we can sometimes be! So much about gardening is very po-faced though, don’t you think, so it’s good to have some fun with it sometimes. Thank you for writing in – getting comments from our readers makes it feel so much more like we are all in a ‘gang’ together!
Sorry, I’m with Elaine! I love the sound of Veronica beccabunga and sonchifolia ( I’ve forgotten the first part! And I’ve even used it as a password!). I used to have the former blue wild flower in my pond. The latter seeds around the garden with not very significant pink flowers on 12inch stems, but I let it grow!
It’s Francoa sonchifolia. I remembered!
Hello Glenys, yes some plant names are just a delight aren’t they! I grow Franchoa sonchifolia too, having first seen it in the walled Jura House garden on the Hebridean island of the same name. As you say its flowers are a bit mundane but it makes a very satisfactory clump of evergreen foliage with pretty scalloped edges which sometimes takes on lovely red hues in the winter and the plant seems happy even in quite deep shade, so like you I let it gently seed around. Best wishes Laura
I am still waiting for some frilly knickers…and the Head Gardener is hoping for Dads Brown Trousers……I am lucky enough to have Hot 👄…but lost my super-bum many years back!
We are both Tottering by Gently…. but still enjoy the odd crème de Cassis (dahlia) followed by Rhubarb and Custard (dahlia)..
Just a bit of fun!!
Oooh, we’ve had a laugh about your comment, Angela! Some of these variety names really are a hoot, aren’t they. And I definitely think that the rose Tottering by Gently has become extremely popular because so many of us older gardeners identify with the name….! Let’s keep the fun going in gardening to counteract all the hard slog. All the best, Elaine (and the other two)
There’s an interesting little book called ‘Who does your garden grow?’. It was written by Alex Pankhurst, a gardening journalist and member of the Hardy Plant Society, and published in 1992. Tiem for an update, I think.
I got my copy from the excellent second hand book stall at Nymans Garden – I can never resist buying something when I’m there!
Yes, Cathy, I think I have heard of that book, but I don’t actually have it on my (already embarrassingly extensive!) garden bookshelves – it sounds like you might have quite a few too 🤣. It sounds a fascinating read. The history behind so many of the plants we grow are really interesting – I went to an incredible talk recently about the tale of the rose ‘Peace’ – what a story THAT is! All the best for a great gardening 2025, Elaine (+L and C)
I find that day lilies come with the weirdest of names, think ‘Occupy her Panties’, ‘Black Stockings’, ‘Colonel Mustard’, ‘American Revolution’ etc. I bought Hemerocallis ‘Bela Lugosi’ last year in a sale, very timely given the ole Dracula remake currently showing at a cinema near you. There is even one called ‘Nosferatu’! Hope Bela will climb out of the coffin this year and show me it’s true colours.
Catherine, this has taken some time to assimilate. It’s Caroline here and without doubt my Rose ‘Atom Bomb’ pales into insignificance compared to your hemerocallis revelations. Black stockings are one thing but panties are quite another. I note the latter cultivar was bred in America – may we be permitted a small 🙄 at this discovery. In fact your comment prompted Laura to find this – a list of hemerocallis names to make your hair stand on end! https://cottageinthemeadow.plantfans.com/BlogPosts/DAYLILY_NAMES Thank you so much, we’ve so enjoyed responding to this! Very best wishes