Four years ago I planted a little Carolina silverbell tree—Halesia Carolina, sometimes known as Halesia tetraptera–in front of my house. It wasn’t much of a tree then. Rescued from potential oblivion after failing to sell at a charity plant sale, it was only about four feet tall. I had a space that needed a tree and since all I had to invest was the time and exertion required to plant it; the silverbell looked like a good deal. It had leaves, took up water readily and responded to my tender ministrations by putting out some new growth.
The silverbell’s first winter was harrowing. Besieged by heavy snowfall from the day after Christmas through March, the sapling spent most of the winter encased in an iceberg created over the many weeks when successive layers of snow were thrown up by the town plows. I was convinced that it was doomed. By the time spring finally arrived, I had resigned myself to that fact. The silverbell was less resigned, however, and sprouted a few dangling, bell-like white flowers in a triumphant demonstration of horticultural resurrection. After that, there was no turning back, despite two years of horrendous October storms, including Hurricane Sandy. Now the tree is about eight feet tall with a good, strong central trunk. This spring it produced so many silver bells that even the local dog walkers gave it high praise. It has the potential to grow between twenty-five and forty feet tall, but will probably finish on the shorter end of that range because of its streetside location.
Like many inhabitants of the New York metropolitan area, the silverbell is not
native to these parts. It grows wild in the southeastern quarter of the country, including the state referenced in its common and Latin names. English botanist, Martyn Rix, writing in his wonderful book, The Botanical Garden, describes Carolina silverbell and its relatives with faint praise, saying only, “The American species are hardy and attractive small garden trees.” The same might be said of the common redbud—Cercis canadensis—which is much more widely planted. The Carolina silverbell obviously needs a better publicist.
There are only five Halesia species in existence, one of which is native to Asia. Mountain silverbell—Halesia monticola—is the closest in appearance to the Carolina species. Both bear the distinctive drooping “bells,” each composed of four petals fused at the base. The mountain species grows a bit taller and is somewhat more tolerant of hot climates, but would work in most of the same landscape situations as its Carolina cousin.
Carolina silverbell, which is also available in a pink-flowered form, makes an excellent specimen tree, but begs to be included in gardens. It would be lovely underplanted with spring bulbs, including little species tulips. One of the tree’s alternate common names is “lily-of-the-valley tree,” and it would be equally appropriate to surround the tree with true lilies-of-the-valley—Convallaria majalis–to underscore the theme. The lily-of-the-valley would also provide fragrance, something the silverbell blooms lack. For fragrance later in the season, plant some August lilies—Hosta plantaginea—nearby. They are my favorite among the millions of hosta species and varieties because their flowers are large, white and intensely scented.
I have always wanted to have an estate-type driveway with rows of trees planted on either side, forming a European-style allée. Silverbell would be perfect for this and the fallen flower petals would form a romantic snowy carpet in the spring. Of course, in order to make this particular landscaping dream come true, I have to acquire the estate first. I will close my eyes and think of silverbells every time I buy Power Ball lottery tickets.
As you go through the upcoming rounds of graduation parties, wedding receptions and other late spring and early summer social frolics, spread the word about the Carolina silverbell. The trees deserve to be better known and planted far and wide.
Rush out now and order your silverbell—listed under its newest taxonomic moniker, Halesia tetraptera, from ForestFarm, PO Box 1, Wiliams, OR 97544, (541) 846-7269, www.forestfarm.com. Free print catalog.