I planted my Martagon lily bulbs, and they were neither shrivelled nor mouldy after spending a few days in their plastic bags. I can see why the organisers of the lily study day were so keen that we buy bulbs from a specialist supplier. I haven't much experience of growing lilies, not feeling I had the right garden conditions and being cautious about the pollen's toxicity to cats, but compared to the few bulbs I've had from garden centres and DIY stores, these were a revelation.
Lily bulbs are made up of layers of overlapping scales, without a surrounding outer jacket of any kind. Compared to tulips with their tunics, let alone daffodils or hyacinths with their papery outer layers and general air of solidity, lily bulbs are fragile. They are prone to drying out, and to scales being knocked off. The scales of my Martagons were held tightly shut like a globe artichoke head, and out of the whole order of twenty bulbs I managed to break just one scale off one unlucky bulb. Compared to my past experiences of shop bought lilies with their scales gaping apart, sometimes with shavings of sawdust tucked between them, these were different plants. They had roots too, which appeared to be alive and functioning rather than dead and dry appendages.
I marked the position of each bulb with a bamboo cane, which looks mad at the moment, but I will need a reminder of where they are. The planting instructions warned that Martagons hate being moved, and that I might not see any growth in the next season, but that would not mean that they were dead, they could be establishing their new root systems. In fact, the leaflet that came with the lilies said confidently that they would be busy growing roots, but it will be hard to remain entirely optimistic if nothing comes up. So many things could go wrong. The soil might be too acid. Slugs and snails might eat them, or voles. Or muntjac, or rats. It might be too dry. It could be too wet. Or too dark.
Still, the only way to find out whether I can grow them is to try. Fiona Edmond had some fine stands under trees at Green Island Gardens when we visited last year, and I can't believe her soil is materially less acid than mine. I chose my spot carefully, rejecting the upper reaches of the slope where the ground was still dust dry under the top half inch, even though we've had enough rain recently to turn the top lawn squelchy. The area just inside the wood does not have true woodland soil, a legacy of earth being shifted around when the house was built, and I didn't want to put my lilies in dubious subsoil. A little further down the hill the earth suddenly became dark and crumbly, looking much more promising from a lily's point of view.
If they flower, and if they set seed, and if they like it in the end of the wood, they should spread, and I could harvest some seed and help them along. Martagon bulbs take several years to reach flowering size, one reason why they cost what they do, but I'd feel happier about testing the drier edges of the wood with young plants I'd raised myself than bulbs I'd paid up to four pounds each for. Likewise, I thought I'd better try out the growing conditions with the ordinary species before going for any of the beautiful and expensive named varieties.
My supplier in this adventure is HW Hyde and Sons. So far they seem to have been doing their bit beautifully, so it's down to me now.
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