Champlins Red: A Witch Hazel Story
Living life in the remarkable world of plants and horticulture, you should always be prepared for a little adventure, which could become necessary at any given moment. It was just this past October, on a picture-perfect Tuesday afternoon, when I heard adventure calling my name. There were signs around Newport, botanical signs, and time wasn’t to be wasted. I turned to Morgan, sitting innocently at her desk, and without warning, suggested an immediate botanical journey into the unfamiliar Rhode Island countryside. She, knowing the intriguing details and information we had uncovered in recent days, agreed with little hesitation. We jumped into action, quickly gathering up some supplies and double checked the coordinates on the GPS to pinpoint our destination. We both knew this was not going to be an exact science. Then we hit the road, driving off in search of something we weren’t sure we’d be able to find.
Many years prior to that adventurous October afternoon, a man with a deeply rooted connection to the natural world walked along a roadside in rural Rhode Island. It was probably a beautiful October afternoon like the one we had for our journey, with a cool breeze and the sun’s low rays piercing through the thinning canopy, illuminating an understory rich with orange, yellow, red, and brown. It’s possible this traveler may have been alone, but he may have been in the company of another man, an experienced and knowledgeable outdoorsman, who would accompany him for day trip explorations to enjoy and document the natural world. At some point along this peaceful walk, just off the side of the road amongst the brush, something interesting caught the man’s attention. What he saw was something that had been following him all day along his walk, a well-known fall blooming plant with fragrant, spider-like flowers. But this plant was unlike the countless others he’d seen that day, and ever before. A sensation of raw excitement jolted through our traveler. This was something different. This was something special.
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The late Richard Champlin, of Jamestown, Rhode Island, is a local legend of sorts, an inspiration to many both past and present who share his unrequited love for the outdoors. For over 40 years, Richard was employed as a cataloguer and Assistant Librarian at America’s oldest continuous lending library, the Redwood Library and Antenæum of Newport. It should be mentioned that Richard was one of the foremost experts on well-known Newport clock maker William Claggett (1694-1748) and Claggett clocks, writing multiple articles on the subject. When understanding the life of Richard Champlin and his love for nature, it should come as no surprise that the grandeur and diversity of Newport’s historic tree collection piqued his interest. So much so in fact, that Richard wrote a short publication documenting the many interesting tree species and botanical varieties in Newport, and what historic properties housed them. The book, Trees of Newport on the Estates of the Preservation Society of Newport County, published in 1976, is an informative read that provides interesting facts and insights helpful to our work at the Newport Tree Conservancy. With the many glorious trees in Newport and elsewhere in Rhode Island having a lasting impression on Richard, he would go on to develop an extensive inventory of the most impressive specimen trees throughout the state, resulting in an 8-inch stack of handwritten index cards. This would form the basis for the creation of Rhode Island’s Champion Tree registry, managed today by the Rhode Island Tree Council. Due to his vast knowledge of Rhode Island’s biggest trees, Richard would earn the nickname “The Tree Man”.
Early on in Richard’s naturalist career, he would befriend a man named John Hudson, who would introduce him to many great wild locations throughout mainland Rhode Island. They spent many Thursdays (Richard’s day off) exploring beneath the trees and documenting their scientific observations, something that would continue for 40 or so years and long after Hudson’s death. These investigative treks would result in a bounty of field information that would form the basis of Richard’s several published papers and articles on natural subjects, including co-authoring Vascular Flora of Rhode Island. It is likely during one of these investigative treks that Richard would make, in his own opinion, one of his most exciting discoveries. The find was an abundant native shrub, an American or common witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana), with unique flowers that displayed a pinkish red on the lower half of the strap-like petals. Flowers of the species are normally pure yellow, so in the horticultural world, we would call this a “color breakthrough”. I could not determine when exactly the plant was discovered, but there is mention of it in a 1996 feature on Champlin with the Rhode Island Natural History Survey. There may be some dispute to the color breakthrough claim however, as another common witch hazel with similar red flowers, ‘Mohonk Red’, was discovered in the mid 1990s growing wild in upstate New York.
While Richard was an exceptionally knowledgeable plantsman and naturalist, he would need to seek expert help in propagating his plant discovery, thus perpetuating it and introducing it into gardens. He would reach out to a young professor at URI, Dr. Brian Maynard, detailing his revelation of two unique plants in the wilds of Rhode Island, that he thought were worthy of recognition. The other plant discovery - a remarkable red flowered form of spicebush (Lindera benzoin), would be located quickly by Maynard, but would take many years before it was successfully rooted from cuttings. Given general instructions to the witch hazel’s location, Maynard would search the respective roadside every October for several years without any luck in spotting the blooms. Based on biographical writings and quotes from Champlin, it’s possible he may have been hesitant in revealing site specific information, joking that he would never divulge everything at once, “Or else you will lack further use for me’. Getting back in touch with Champlin, Maynard would receive the exact utility poll number nearest to the plant and would find it right away. Equipped with the ability to reproduce the shrub through grafting, Champlin understood giving this information to a renowned plant propagator would be beneficial to the future cultivation of this special Hamamelis.
Maynard would keep an eye on the ortet (mother plant from which all others originate from) for a number of years, grafting it onto seedling rootstock at the University of the Rhode Island. Plants made their way into the nursery blocks at East Farm on Kingston Road, where they could be observed and evaluated. It would be during this time (2002) the plant was given the fitting name, ‘Champlin’s Red’, in the honor of the great man who discovered it. A grafted shrub would eventually make its way into Maynard’s home garden, where it still grows today. ‘Champlin’s Red’ never made it into mainstream nursery production, unlike well-known witch hazel cultivars such as ‘Arnold’s Promise’ and ‘Jelena’, which are widely available today. According to Maynard, the plant was exchanged with witch hazel expert Tim Brotzman of Brotzman Nursery in Madison, Ohio, but was never widely distributed. However, the plant is accessioned in the living collections of a few botanical institutions, including the Chicago Botanical Garden and the Arnold Arboretum.
‘Champlin’s Red’ introduced itself to me in Chris Lane’s Witch Hazels, a highly enjoyable read and the leading resource on the subject of Hamamelis. In the book, the growth characteristics of the plant are described, along with a short history on its discovery and naming. Following this discovery, a quick internet search yielded very limited results. As far as I could tell, potentially only 3 medium quality photos of the plant were available online, via the Dawes Arboretum. In these images, the flower color appears somewhat faint, and it seems likely that the inflorescences are well past their peak showing. Aside from the excerpt in the book and a few online documentations, very little public information is available regarding ‘Champlin’s Red’. I had heard the name Richard Champlin before, from several people who had worked with him or had known of him. I would later make the connection that he was the author of that little old book with cool illustrations that seemed to creep around the office.
The remote location of the original plant, and whether it was still growing along the roadside in a rural Rhode Island town, as Lane’s book describes, was something I would continue to wonder about for some time. At one point, I would bring the plant up during conversation with Dr. Maynard, and he would confirm the information written in Lane’s book. Sometime later, when I decided finding the ortet was potentially very important to both the gardening public and to me personally, Morgan and I reached out again for an exact location. Dr. Maynard would agree, sending along GPS coordinates, that when plugged into google maps, brought up a roadside point in a forested area roughly an hour’s drive from Newport. In honor of what I believe would be Champlin’s wish based on my research, I will not disclose the exact location shared with me.
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What had started off as a sunny afternoon began to cloud over as we navigated the beautiful Rhode Island countryside in search of ‘Champlin’s Red’, which Morgan and I figured would make the plant’s red coloration stand out a little better. As we drove deeper into the woods, we were greeted by thousands of yellow balls of light, blooming witch hazels flowers. This was a reassuring sign, but the anticipation only grew. As we neared our destination, it was almost shocking how rich the diversity of plant life was in this area. We slowed down as we approached the pinned location, staring intently at the tree line, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary as we passed by, so we pulled to the side and parked. We took note of the great number of woody species growing around us; shadbush, viburnum, spicebush, maple, oak, hickory, chokeberry, winterberry, staggerbush, and witch hazel. This area was chock full of plants; it is no surprise Champlin had explored this area! We zoned in on the exact coordinates given to us, but despite seeing some large witch hazels growing along the road, they all had typical yellow flowers. We poked around amongst the brush, navigating brambles and invasive rose, stopping to identify some woody plants in bud. I am sure the cars zooming by were curious about what we were doing. We looked high and low, eyes squinting to peer deeper into the forest, but no sign of a large witch hazel with reddish flowers.
Turning to retreat to our vehicle, we did a final sweep of the area in front of the tree line, the sounds of leaves fluttering in the breeze the only noise to be heard. Then, my stare caught some off-colored flowers. “There it is”! I threw myself over the railing and hustled down the embankment to get a closer look at the shrub. It quickly became apparent that the only thing about Dr. Maynard’s description of the ortet that matched the shrub we were looking at was the flowers, which we photographed while carefully bending down the branch. The lower 2/3 of strap-like petals were infused with dark salmon pink carrying a purple hue, with the ends fading to Sulphur yellow. Dr. Maynard described a 10 foot tall plant that had been cut back repeatedly by maintenance crews, only to grow back and continue to flower true to type, but the shrub we found only had a single stem with a few twigs flowering near the top. It stood around 10 feet tall and was set back more than 20 feet back off the road, leaning close to the trunk of a white oak. As I was getting my last few photographs, Morgan shouts out “There’s another one”! I rush over to find a significantly smaller, more vigorous shrub growing near the railing. The flowers possessed the same infusion of color, but seemed to be more sturdy and vibrant than the first shrub, probably due to better vigor. How could there be two plants? We took some more time photographing the flowers, and inconspicuously marked the smaller shrub in case we happened to return when it was out of bloom. As we drove home, we savored in the glow of a successful adventure, and I celebrated with a cheeseburger from Wendy’s.
Over the next several days, I speculated on why the original plant appears to be gone, yet two very different individuals are found in situ today. The smaller plant (Plant B) near the road had no indication that it had been cut back in anyway. There was no sign of a stump beneath the leaf litter, but it’s possible the stump(s) could have rotted away. Based on its growth habit, plant B appears to be either a seedling or root sucker. The larger plant (Plant A) likely had other stems at some point, but they were lost to competition from other shrubs nearby. Plant A was also set back much further from the road than what was described. Considering the evidence, I’ve developed two theories. The first theory that may explain the multiple plants is that ‘Champlin’s Red’ comes true to type when grown from seed. I don’t know much about flower color inheritance in Hamamelis, but based on detailed accounts of how other cultivars were bred or originated, flower color is passed onto offspring at least partially. The second theory is that ‘Champlin’s Red’ has been around a very long time and has vegetatively propagated itself through root suckers and branch layers, spreading out over a larger area. Operating on this theory, the shrub Champlin discovered on that October day was probably not the original plant, but rather a clonal propagule of the original. Based on its location, the smaller plant (Plant B) we encountered in October would likely be a root sucker from the original, encouraged to grow by the excessive cutting of the mother plant. I tend to side with the latter theory, as you would expect slight variability in the flower color if the plants were seedlings. The flower colors between the two plants appeared to be exact copies, thus cloning must have occurred.
With high-quality photos of ‘Champlin’s Red’ in hand, I compared them to photographs on the Arnold Arboretum’s website of ‘Mohonk Red’ (Acc. 121-96*C) from this year. Interestingly, I found the colors to be almost identical, that same dark pink with a purple hue, covering the same amount of petal. It should be noted the flower color and quality of any given witch hazel may change from year to year, or over the course of a bloom period, based on growing conditions. Regardless, in my humble opinion, ‘Champlin’s Red’ has the potential to be a great garden addition. Both plants we observed in the wild had almost no leaves left on their branches, a valuable characteristic for any witch hazel to have, as the persistent foliage can block the flowers and make enjoying them more of a challenge. The fragrance of ‘Champlin’s Red’ was also strong and quite pleasant, reminding me of the florist cooler in my family’s old shop. We all have to be thankful to Richard Champlin, for without his passion and energy in exploring the wilds of Rhode Island, this important botanical discovery would probably have never been made. With propagation of this plant, his legacy will remain in our gardens and serve as a reminder every fall when ‘Champlin’s Red’ separates itself from its yellow flowered counterparts.
By Joe Verstandig – NTC Living Collections Manager
December 2024
A special thank you to Brian Maynard and Michelle Farias.
This article is dedicated in loving memory of William G. “Billy” Knips. Forever in our hearts.
References
Raithel, Christopher. Richard L. Champlin, 1996 Distinguished Naturalist. Rhode Island Natural History Survey. https://rinhs.org/events/awards/distinguished-naturalist-award/richard-champlin/
Rhode Island Tree Council. Champion Trees. https://ritree.org/champion-tree/
Champlin, Richard. Giant Trees of Rhode Island. Rhode Island Audubon Report March 1979
Dirr, A Michael, 2008. Manual of Woody Landscape Plants. 6th ED. Stipes, Champaign IL
Lane, Chris. 2005 Witch Hazels RHS Plant Collector Guide. Timber Press, Portland OR