The Mail on Sunday

SPRING’S crowning glory

Fancy a dramatic flourish to kick off 2017? Here’s the bulb that’ll make it happen...

- MARTYN COX

ON A recent trip to a DIY superstore, I was distracted from the mundane chore of buying some screws the moment I stepped through the automatic doors. A temporary display of spring-flowering bulbs had been set up close to the entrance, and my eye was instantly drawn towards boxes containing crown imperials.

As far as I’m concerned, Fritillari­a imperialis is the first bulb to add a sense of drama to the garden in spring, thanks to its 3ft stems topped with bell-shaped flowers.

I couldn’t resist snapping up three packets of bulbs before heading to the hardware section to complete my mission.

This stately flower, which can even be found in the foothills of the Himalayas, arrived in Britain in the 16th Century, and the first variety with different-coloured blooms was introduced in 1665.

Dubbed Fritillari­a imperialis ‘Lutea’, it’s still one of the best around, thanks to its bright yellow flowers. ‘William Rex’ has bronze-red blooms, and ‘Red’ is taller than the rest. Most varieties have green foliage, but ‘Aureomargi­nata’ and ‘Argenteova­riegata’ have variegated leaves.

The stunning flowers usually appear between April and May and last for about three weeks before they fade. All stems are topped by a tuft of green, spear-shaped bracts that vaguely resemble a crown, which has given rise to the plant’s nickname.

Despite its glamorous looks, Fritillari­a imperialis does have a personal hygiene problem. Bulbs, flowers and foliage emit a strong scent that is best described as ‘foxy’ or ‘sweaty’. The pungent odour doesn’t bother me in the slightest, but some gardeners absolutely hate it.

Crown imperials prefer well-drained soil and a sunny, sheltered position. Show them off against a wall or fence, or to add height and early colour to a traditiona­l border.

Their extravagan­t flowers make them ideal for growing among exotics, and I’ve just planted mine underneath a Trachycarp­us fortunei palm.

As these bulbs bruise easily, it’s important to handle them carefully to ensure they remain in good health. Dig an 8in-deep hole and put a little sand at the bottom to improve drainage. Plant the bulbs on their sides, so the hollow part on the top is horizontal. If you don’t do this, water can fill the void and lead to rotting.

When it comes to razzle-dazzle, crown imperials are in a league of their own, yet they’re not the only type of fritillari­a that will brighten up the garden in spring. There are scores of different varieties suitable for everything from raising in borders to growing in pots, and from planting in rock gardens to naturalisi­ng in grass.

Discovered in 1884, Fritillari­a eduardii looks like a shorter version of a crown imperial. Native to Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, its blooms appear on 20in stems in mid-March, usually a good two weeks before the taller varieties. There’s a noticeable absence of any sharp odour, too.

Fritillari­a eduardii ‘ Castor’ has large, yellow-orange flowers, and those of F. eduardii ‘Pollux’ are nearred. The inner petals of F. eduardii ‘Gala Crown’ are lighter than its vivid orange-red outer petals – this variety is fairly rare, so expect to pay about £20 for a single bulb.

The Persian lily, or Fritillari­a persica, produces 3ft spikes clothed with 30 or more bell-shaped flowers that are a dusky shade of purple. This species is rarely offered for sale, so you are more likely to find the variety ‘Adiyaman’, which has even taller stems and near-black flowers during April and May. It looks great with grasses or silver-leaved shrubs.

Don’t let its difficult name put you off growing Fritillari­a michailovs­kyi, a gorgeous species from the mountains of north-east Turkey. Perfect in rockeries or with other bulbs in containers, its two-tone mahoganyan­d-yellow flowers appear on 6 in stems from May into June.

Perhaps the best loved of all are Fritillari­a meleagris, a compact beauty native to many parts of Europe, with nodding, lantern-like flowers chequered with pink, purple and white markings. This distinctiv­e patterning has given rise to a number of descriptiv­e common names, such as snakeshead fritillary and chess flower.

FOR hundreds of years, these flowers carpeted British meadows. Sadly, they are a much rarer sight in our countrysid­e these days as many colonies were lost when fields were ploughed for food production during the Second World War.

Given its background, it is understand­able why many think snakeshead fritillary is native to our shores. However, it was first recorded growing in the wild back in 1736, and is believed to have naturalise­d after ‘escaping’ from gardens some time during the 16th or 17th Centuries.

For my money, the flowers are best seen rising up through grass. Naturalisi­ng them in the lawn is easy. Scatter bulbs over the surface, planting 3in deep and 4in apart.

Choose a patch where grass can be left to grow longer, as mowing should be put off until late June, giving flowers the chance to set seed.

Fritillari­es are a member of the lily family, so are vulnerable to attack by lily beetles. These shiny scarlet pests can defoliate plants, giving them a tatty appearance.

Check plants daily and squash any that you find, along with their red eggs and larvae, which are encased in a black, jelly-like substance.

For a range of fritillari­as, try Pottertons Nursery (pottertons. co.uk), Crocus (crocus.co.uk) and De Jager (dejager.co.uk).

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STATELY: Fritillari­a imperialis planted with tulips. Far left: The yellow blooms of the Lutea variety

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