Fuchsia: Beautiful Child of a Tropical Sun

   My birthday was yesterday, and my family gave me the most beautiful gift...a Fuchsia plant in full bloom! I have been admiring this elegant flower, (which is also called Lady's Eardrops) for a long time and am thrilled that I can finally enjoy it up close! Botanically speaking, I found it to be a wonderful example of a colored calyx, (the corolla being the purple petals within). When I first read about this in my botany studies, I was quite surprised and not a little confused, though I have learned since that it is really quite common!

   This lovely plant has a fascinating and romantic history. The first plants (Fuchsia triphylla) were discovered on the island of Hispaniola about the end of the 17th century by the French monk and botanist, Charles Plumier (1646-1704), and he named the new genus after the celebrated German botanist, Leonhardt Fuchs (1501–1566). It does not seem to have been introduced into gardens until somewhat later, however. According to Aiton's Hortus Kewensis, the first Fuchsia species to be cultivated at Kew Gardens was F. coccinea, a native of Brazil (although he mistakenly says it is from Chile), which was given to Kew Gardens in 1788 by a Captain Firth. But no one seems to know just who this Captain Firth was, and there is yet another story of how it came to be introduced. This was originally published in 1831 in The Lincoln Herald and is attributed to John Shepherd, first curator of the Botanic Gardens at Liverpool...

Leonhardt Fuchs

   "Old Mr. Lee, a nurseryman and gardener near London, well known fifty or sixty years ago, was one day showing his variegated treasures to a friend, who suddenly turned round and exclaimed, 'Well, you have not in your collection a prettier flower than I saw this morning at Wapping.' 'Indeed? and pray what was this phoenix like?' was the rejoinder. 'Why, the plant was elegant, and the flowers hung in rows like tassels from the pendant branches, their colour the richest crimson, and in the centre a fold of deep purple.' Obtaining minute direction of the spot, Mr. Lee posted off to Wapping, and on discovering the abode, he at once perceived that the plant was new in this part of the world. Entering the house, which was tenanted by a sailor's wife, he said, 'My good woman, this is a nice plant; I should like to buy it.' 'Ah, sir! I could not part with it for any money: my husband brought it from the West Indies for me, and I promised when he went to sea again to keep it for his sake.' 'But I must have it!' 'No, sir.' 'Here—(emptying his pocket)—here are gold, silver, copper.' (His stock was something more than eight guineas.) 'Well-a-day! but this is a power of money, sure and sure!' ''Tis yours, and the plant is mine; and, my good dame, you shall have one of the first young ones I rear, to keep for your husband's sake.' 'Alack you'll promise me?' 'You shall, by Jove you shall!' A coach was called, in which was safely deposited our florist and his purchase. His first work on reaching home was to pull off and utterly destroy every vestige of blossom and blossom bud; it was divided into cuttings, which were forced in hotbeds and bark-beds, were re-divided and sub-divided. Every effort was used to multiply the plant, and by the commencement of the next flowering season Mr. Lee was the delighted possessor of three hundred fuchsia plants, all giving promise of blossom. The two which opened first were removed into his show-house. A lady came. “Why, Mr. Lee—my dear Mr. Lee where did you get this charming flower?' 'Hem ’tis a new thing, my lady: pretty, is it not?' 'Pretty? 'tis lovely . Its price?' 'A guinea. Thank you, my lady.' And one of the two plants was at once carried off to her ladyship's boudoir. Scarcely had the flower reached its new domicile than a visitor arrived, saw, and admired the new floral acquisition; and learning that there was another left, ordered her carriage off at once to Mr. Lee's. A third flowering plant stood on the spot whence the first had been taken. The second guinea was paid, and the second fuchsia found its way to the residence of her second ladyship. The scene was repeated as new-comers came, saw, and were conquered by the beauty of the plant. New chariots flew to the gates of old Lee's nursery-ground. Two fuchsias, young, graceful, and bursting into healthy flower, were constantly seen on the same spot in his repository.

   He neglected not to gladden the sailor's wife by the promised gift; but ere the flower season closed, three hundred golden guineas chinked in his purse, the produce of the single shrub of the good-wife of Wapping; the reward of the taste, decision, skill, and perseverance of old Mr. Lee."

   This story now has several variations, in which the woman who sold the plant to Lee was the sailor's mother or sweetheart. True or not, it's an interesting story! 

   There are over 110 species in this genus, most of them native to South America, but a few range as far north as Mexico and there are also several species native to New Zealand and Tahiti. After its introduction, new species were collected by explorers and introduced almost every season, and cultivators worked tirelessly to produce new varieties. The high price at first confined it to the gardens of the wealthy, but by 1844 it was said to "rival the Rose in its frequency". And no wonder! 

There is a beautiful poem written about this flower which I just had to share...

Beautiful child of a tropic sun,

How hast thou been from thy far home won,

To bloom in our chilly northern air,

Where the frost may blight, or the wind may tear?

Dost thou not pine for thine own dear land,

For its cloudless skies—for its zephyrs bland,

For its graceful flowers of matchless hues,

Bright as the dreams of an Eastern muse?

Dost thou not pine for the perfumed air,

For the gorgeous birds that are hovering there;

For the starry skies, and the silver moon,

And the grasshopper's shrill and unchanging tune?

Doth thy modest head as meekly bend

In thine own bright clime, or doth exile lend

To thy fragile stalk its drooping grace,

Like the downcast look of a lovely face ?

No thou would'st murmur, were language thine,

It is not for these I appear to pine;

Nor for glorious flowers, nor cloudless skies,

Nor yet for the plumage of rainbow dyes.

The kindly care I have met with here—

The dew that is soft as affection’s tear,

Would have soothed, if sorrow had bent my head,

And life and vigor around me shed,

But I do not pine, and I do not grieve;

Why should I mourn for the things I leave?

I feel the sun and the gladsome air,

And all places are joyous if they be there.

And thus in the world we may happy be,

Not in climate, nor valley, nor islet free;

But wherever the tenderest love in our breast

May have objects around it on which it can rest.

Hopefully, mine will be just as content in my care! 😊