THERE is a long history of naming things after monarchs. The present Queen, who has been unfailingly in post since before even I was born, is thus blessed with an inordinately long list of ships, buildings, mountain ranges, islands, horse races, railway engines, national parks and, of course, plants bearing her name (page 194). It must be difficult to look equally pleased at each of these offerings, but you can be sure that friendly politeness will never have failed on such an occasion.
In case it springs to your mind to add to this list, you should know that you can't simply stick Her Majesty's name on something and be done. There is, as one would expect, an established procedure by which a committee of worthies vets each application to make sure nothing unsuitable slips through the net. I know of only one rogue incident, in which the Filipino former world boxing champion Manny Pacquiao named his daughter Queen Elizabeth without permission. I feel sure his error was made in a spontaneous burst of royal enthusiasm, so I doubt if the committee will take too dim a view of his action.
The tradition of naming plants after monarchs has brought us many familiar favourites. Queen Victoria reigned over us for 63 years and is recalled by the rhubarb cultivar 'Victoria', bred by Joseph Myatt in 1837, the year of her accession. It still flourishes today. You will be pleased to learn that the enterprising Myatt presented another rhubarb called 'Prince Albert' to the public as quickly as 1840. It, too, is still widely available. Probably the best-known flower to bear the old Queen's name is the red-flowered perennial Lobelia 'Queen Victoria', remarkably vigorous for such a long-established plant.
Esta historia es de la edición May 25, 2022 de Country Life UK.
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