“ Here a Clematis, a climbing Rose, a new kind of Ivy, a wild Vine, or a Virginian Creeper, have all they require, a firm support on which they may arrange themselves after their own natural habit, without being mutilated, or without trouble to the planter, and fresh ground free to themselves. What an admirable way, too, of growing the many and varied species of Clematis! as beautiful as varieties with flowers as large as saucers. ”
Clematis
Definition and stakes
Clematis, a genus of flowering vines, has long captivated writers for its adaptability and aesthetic charm. Authors such as W. Robinson praised its natural climbing habits in gardens, while E. V. B. admired its "purple draperies" adorning walls. Mary Austin depicted its elusive growth in wild landscapes, contrasting it with cultivated spaces, and Bertha B.
Cobb imbued the name with narrative depth, linking it to a character’s journey. These varied perspectives highlight Clematis as both a botanical wonder and a symbol of wild beauty, bridging horticultural practice and literary imagination. Its enduring presence in gardens and stories underscores its dual role as a practical plant and a metaphor for resilience.
Quotes about “Clematis”
E. V. B., Days and hours in a garden (1896)
“ Purple draperies of Clematis (Virgin’s Bower) , in many shades, from the deepest violet softening into grey, make the old brick walls beautiful; or the same Clematis droops [Pg 174] from trellises, or clambers up the trees in many parts of the garden. Almost always it so happens that the tender green of Vines mingles with the purple. There is something almost unpleasing in the arrangement of the four petals of Clematis Jackmanni! but much must be forgiven for the sake of such grand colouring. No climbing plant comes near the Vine, perhaps, in perfect grace and beauty of line. ”
Mary Austin, The Land of Little Rain
“ Along with willow and birch and brier, the clematis, that shyest plant of water borders, slips down season by season to within a hundred yards of the village street. Convinced after three years that it would come no nearer, we spent time fruitlessly pulling up roots to plant in the garden. All this while, when no coaxing or care prevailed upon any transplanted slip to grow, one was coming up silently outside the fence near the wicket, coiling so secretly in the rabbit-brush that its presence was never suspected until it flowered delicately along its twining length. ”
