A show of snowdrops in the English gardens of Devon

A show of snowdrops

As winter ends, a carpet of galanthus snowdrops covers the English gardens at Devon's Buckland Monachonim, much to the joy of enthusiasts from near and far

A show of snowdrops in the English gardens of Devon

"I hope your elbows are sharp," chuckles a gardener of my acquaintance, as I tell her with some excitement that I am going to my first snowdrop day. When I take my place among the aficionados at The Garden House at Buckland Monachorum in Devon, it's hard to imagine a more genteel crowd. They sit in orderly rows in a conference room, swooning gently over slides of desirable snowdrops as they listen to Matt Bishop, revered co-author of the diminutive bloom's bible, Snowdrops: A Monograph of Cultivated Galanthus.

The sheer variety of forms is bewildering - single and double, chaste bells, exotic pagodas, delicate moth-like fringes or flouncy crinolines. 'Emerald Arrow' elegantly matches its description, while 'Walrus1 does not look
remotely like its namesake but has elongated horizontal petals that might at a stretch resemble tusks. A white whirligig with shaggy outer petals is introduced as Galanthus nivalis 'Narwhal'.

This passion for snowdrops, or galanlhophilia (from the plant's Latin name Galanthus), requires quite exceptional powers of visual discernment (the differences between cultivars can be microscopic), bionic joints (snowdrops are best appreciated on hands and knees) and a steely imperviousness to wind, cold, snow and disappointment. Two German galanthophiles, looking forward to a week of visits to English
gardens, have found everyone of them deep in snow, and guest expert Joerg Lebsa is fretting about his collection at home in Germany. He protects them from the worst of the frost with a phalanx of church candles, which will burn for four days. But what if they blowout?

A show of snowdrops in the English gardens of Devon

While the guests of the English garden sit down to lunch, Matt scuttles round the garden, digging up handfuls
of snowdrops that have been frozen in for a week. Many are identified only by numbers - some because they are new and unnamed, but mainly to guard against pilfering. Matt prices them at £20 or £30 each, but bulbs sell on eBay for ten times as much, and seedsmen Thompson & Morgan last year paid £725 for a bulb of
Galanthus woronowii' Elizabeth Harrison'. As in all things, there are fads and fashions in flowers and, right now, the yellows, especially with markings on the outer segments, are the snowdrop equivalent of a Prada handbag.

It "s hard to say what makes a typical galanthophile. Many are clearly old friends, meeting year after year at a round of snowdrop lunches and galas, which attract visitors from as far a field as America and Japan. "We're just trainspotters with trowels," laughs nurseryman Alan Street from specialist growers Avon Bulbs.

Matt reappears to lead his devotees round the English garden - luminous on a winter's day with the silky bark of birch Betula ermanii 'Grayswood Hill' golden tufts of witch hazel and drifts of winter bulbs. He was formerly head gardener here, and much of his snowdrop collection remains at The Garden House, provoking
murmurs of delight among the cognoscenti.

Meanwhile, a dozen or so growers are setting out their wares in preparation for the high ligh of the day - the snowdrop sale. Here are bulbs so rare and special, they will never appear in any nursery catalogue (though the rarest of all are never sold, but exchanged between an inner segment' of collectors).

Snowdrops in the English gardens

There are just three plants of 'Madelaine' - a vigorous new yellow that drew sighs of rapture in the lecture hall, while Alan has brought half a dozen of his new, softly green-striped 'Sprite' - at an eye-watering £60 per plant.

No one knows in advance what will be here. "It's like a treasure hunt," explains collector Mike Martin. "That's half the fun of it." Mike has been collecting for over 30 years. It seems a strange hobby for a man who is six-and-a- half-feet tall. Wouldn't something bigger - say, hollyhocks - have been a tad easier for him? "I can't deny it's comical to see such a large man fussing over a small flower, but snowdrops are my life. I am," he says, cheerily, "a true anorak."

Already, a queue is building up at the gate. Some have forgone their pudding in order to be first in line, and have been standing for over an hour in the cold. Margaret MacLenan and her husband David have formulated a plan of attack - they will split up, heading for opposite ends of the sale tables. It is determination such as this that has enabled Margaret to build up a national collection, with more than 700 varieties, in just three years. Others with more limited resources have specific prizes in mind.

Helen Brown from Devon and her friend Jill from Leicestershire are both after 'Trumps'. Emma Thick is hunting for anything with an insectivorous name like 'wasp', 'moth' or 'hornet'. On the stroke of three, the gate is thrown open, releasing what can only be described as a stampede into the polytunnel where the snowdrops are laid out. There is a moment of hesitation as each locates a favourite seller, then it's headlong into the scrum - all shoving and barging, weaving and snatching, then emerging red-faced and triumphant, clutching a tiny, white stalk. Margaret, clearly a veteran of many a Harvey Nichols sale, is filling up a crate, while Helen and Jill emerge flushed and delighted - each has secured a pot of'Trumps'. "We paid more than we meant to," Helen confesses, "but we always bring a fixed amount in cash, so we don't get carried away."

As for Mike, he is beaming, holding aloft not only the treasured golden 'Madelaine', but also Alan's 'Sprite'.
"What makes a man pay £60 for a single snowdrop?" I wonder. "What makes a woman pay £100 for a pair of shoes?" he retorts. Within 30 minutes, every table is bare and the collectors revert to their former decorous and cheerful selves. "People get excited about the latest thing, just because it's new," Matt says.

"But it's important to remember there are many beautiful old varieties that have never been surpassed - like G. 'Atkinsii' or G. 'S. Arnott', which you can buy for pence." Alan agrees. "Twenty years ago, I planted a bulb of G. Atkinsii' in a Cotswold Englsih garden. Today there are rugs of it, carpets. Now that's what I call good value." A Matt Bishop has now left The Garden House to set up his own website,  attbishopsnowdrops.co.uk.

Snowdrops: A Monograph of Cultivated Galanthus (Griffin Press, £50) is available from abebooksxo.uk. Most of the snowdrop collection will remain at Buckland Monachorum - check
thegardenhouse.org.uk for future events.

A show of snowdrops in the English gardens of Devon

FIVE VARIETIES TO START A COLLECTION OF SNOWDROPS

1 G. 'S. Arnott' - large, with a distinctive sweet scent: tough and quick to increase.
2 G. 'Atkinsii'-tall, graceful and easy to grow; flowers two to three weeks before the common snowdrop.
3 G. Bertram Anderson' - a robust, rounded form that makes a handsome clump.
4 G. 'Desdemona' - elegant and striking, this is the largest flowered of the beautiful Greatorex doubles.
5 G. 'Straffan'-very vigorous, often producing two large flowers per bulb. One of the last varieties to flower.


WORDS BY AMBRA EDWARDS I PHOTOGRAPHS BY RACHEL WARNE