Editorial for Volume 42 part 4

This last part of Volume 42 again focuses on the Compositae (Asteraceae) growing in the North American Prairie plantings at Wakehurst, introducing a selection of species of horticultural merit. Most are still poorly known in British horticulture and deserve wider planting, having characteristics that make them very suitable for the naturalistic perennial plantings currently popular. As so often, commercial availability is a limiting factor. Three of our subjects are quite the opposite, being well-known and popular garden plants. Liatris pycnostachys is used to great effect in the plantings designed by Tom Stuart-Smith at RHS Garden Bridgewater, and I spotted its distinctive form rising from a roundabout in the Philadelphia suburb of Swarthmore last autumn: I need it in my own gravel garden. Eupatorium maculatum is widely cultivated (usually now as Eutrochium maculatum) and is an outstanding presence in any herbaceous planting, much-visited by insects, as indeed are most of the composites. And then there is Echinacea purpurea, an extremely popular garden plant, but never before featured in this Magazine. But what of William Curtis's Plate 2, from the first issue in February 1787, admired all these years as Echinacea purpurea? It turns out that until now nobody had noticed that it represents the unfamiliar E. laevigata, with droopy ray florets instead of the stiffly spreading ones of E. purpurea, at last accurately portrayed here by Deborah Lambkin. William Curtis didn't do very well in that issue, with even the famous Iris of Plate 1 being misidentified as I. persica: it is now considered to be a form of I. stenophylla (T. Freeth pers. comm. 2025): the transfer of Helleborus hyemalis (Plate 3) to Eranthis is a purely taxonomic issue. Misidentifications are all too common in horticulture, and are sadly seldom addressed by the curatorial staff of even significant botanic gardens, greatly reducing the value of the collections. Two species (Heterotheca camporum and Echinacea simulata) featured in this issue were being cultivated under incorrect names, the identity of both being queried in the course of painting them, highlighting the need for careful verification of cultivated material destined for any scientific purpose. The text for this issue has been written single-handedly by Nicholas Hind, long-standing Compositae expert at Kew, and it continues his series reviewing “comps” cultivated at Kew and Wakehurst: see parts 35(4) (2018); 36(3) (2019); 39(1) 2022); 40(4) (2023, but published in April 2024) for previous examples of his erudition. It concludes with a biography of the very curious Pierre-Joseph Buc'hoz, who was evidently considered harmless enough to survive the French revolution with his head on his shoulders and his state pension intact. It is with great sadness that I must pay tribute here to Seamus O'Brien, who died on 22 December 2025, aged 55. From 2006 he was Head Gardener at National Botanic Gardens, Kilmacurragh, County Wicklow in the Republic of Ireland, passionately making it his own, vastly expanding its collection, extent and reputation through his drive and determination. Widely acknowledged as Ireland's leading horticulturist, he had an international professional presence and friendship network. His plant interests were focused on the temperate regions of the Southern Hemisphere and the Sino-Himalaya, both areas that he had frequently visited. His Himalayan interests led to his book In the footsteps of Joseph Dalton Hooker A Sikkim adventure, published by Kew in 2018, while the Irish botanist Augustine Henry was a lifelong hero covered by In the footsteps of Augustine Henry (2013) and his magnum opus Plantae Henryanae (2025) (reviewed in part 42(3) of this Magazine). Seamus frequently contributed to our pages, typically combining his practical knowledge of a plant in horticulture with a historical perspective and his own observations of it in the wild. A brilliant example of this is his portrait of Rhododendron magnificum (Plate 984, June 2021), found and introduced by Frank Kingdon Ward in the 1930s. He was working on a biography of Kingdon Ward at the time of his death: it is hoped that it can be completed and published. His last contribution to Curtis's Botanical Magazine was a portrait of the rare Pinus armandii var. dabeshanensis (Plate 1067, September 2023): he was extremely proud that the only known specimen in cultivation grows at Kilmacurragh and was always fond of pointing out to me that in New Trees (2009) I had said that all known seedlings were dead. In exchange I might have mentioned that the launch of New Trees provided him with the opportunity for an epic night out in London, the details of which were probably very hazy next day. He will be much missed, and I send heartfelt condolences to his family and very numerous friends around the world.