'Royal Family Crimson' Sweet Pea |
Mixed varieties of Sweet Peas. |
The ancestors to the modern fragrant sweet pea varieties arrived in England in 1699, sent with or sent by a Sicilian monk named Cupani. Directed breeding started in the 1880's by a Scotsman named Eckford. They became very successful commercially, especially with the discovery of the large-flowered Spencer types, so named because they occurred as a natural mutation in the gardens of the Earl of Spencer. They were all the rage in the early 20th century when whole flower shows were commonly devoted exclusively to sweet peas, but in the past few decades the number of gardeners who grow them seems to have faded away. As soon as I discovered them, however, they became one of Mrs. ProfessorRoush's favorite flowers (and mine as well).
Here in Kansas, sweet peas are simple to grow and are planted in the early spring, just a little earlier then eating peas are planted. I'm told that gardeners in milder climates should plant them in October for spring bloom, but I can testify that the seed and seedlings won't survive a Kansas winter. I've found that mine germinate better if they are soaked for a full day before planting. They love a spot in the sun that drains well but is constantly moist, and appreciate a little compost and extra fertilizer. Most varieties grow as vines about 6 feet tall (although dwarf bush types are available), and so they must be provided with a trellis or fence to climb. Mine do well with a steel cattle panel placed next to the seed line as they emerge, and I grow them in the vegetable garden currently, although in times past I have planted them beneath the shrub roses and let them climb among the branches. If you want to keep the fragrant flowers blooming longer, dead-heading has to be done as each bloom fades. The heirloom varieties all come true to seed if planted separately, and I keep the best varieties from year to year whenever I remember to save the seed.
I'm fairly sensitive to the strong fragrances of some plants. I don't like, for instance, to eat in a room with even a single cloying blossom of an Oriental Lily. But fragrant sweet peas, just as strong but not as intrusive, slip slowly into your awareness like a warm wife coming to bed late on a cold winter night. And they are every bit as enjoyable as the latter. Well almost, anyway. Try a few sweet peas, wherever you can obtain them, and I promise that your sweetie will make you grow them evermore.