Until last September 2008, the occurrence of Aloes in La Mortella Gardens was not particularly meaningful. Just like all gardens in the South, there were many clumps of Aloe arborescens growing on the slopes of the hill and self-propagating here and there.  In the course of the years several varieties had been introduced by Lady Walton: Aloe vera, ferox, some A. marlothii, two plicatilis, a bainesii, some princeps, a couple of striata, a few gracilis, and some occasional purchase, such as the three A. polyphylla, religiously grown from micro-propagation plantlets. Altogether, had perhaps a dozen species that delighted us with their bright winter flowers.

Then one day, in September, we received an email in which Carlo Riccardi, an Aloe collector and expert from Lanuvio (Rome), told us that he was forced to find a new home for of his Aloe collection, (about 150 different species and varieties) assembled in more than 20 years of research and passion, as he had to leave the garden he was growing his plants in. Would La Mortella be interested in accepting the collection as a gift?

Of course we accepted with enthusiasm, assuring him that his plants would not only find here a wonderful setting to highlight their beauty, but would also receive constant care and attention, a future, public acknowledgement. And we told him he could come and visit any time he wanted, to check how they were faring.  We agreed a date to organize the delicate operation of transplanting and move the collection. On October 9, 2008,  all Aloes were lifted from the soil, temporarily potted or positioned in various containers, and loaded on a truck. The next day at dawn they were already crossing the bay on a ferry boat and arrived in the island; less then 24 hours after having been removed form their original position, they were resting in trenches or pots, with pumice and volcanic crushed stone to protect their roots.

And then we started planting them in the garden, and we are still doing it. It is a wonderful adventure, and La Mortella will be forever grateful to Carlo Riccardi and his wife Enrica. We know it must have been very hard to let go such a collection of plants, after so many years of love and cares. But their generous and altruistic decision, to donate the plants to our garden, will allow so many people to enjoy the result of their passion. They opened a new horizon to the many  thousand of visitors that come to the garden, and gave their plants the best possible condition to survive in time, opening a new chapter in the story of the collection that we hope to develop in the future. Here is an article written by Carlo and Enrica about the collection, and how they came to donate it to us.

These notes have no  botanical  ambition; you will not read that Aloes belong to the family Asphodelaceae or  find a description of the plants, their shape, roots or seedheads; many authors, more knowledgeable than us, already wrote about this. We would like to tell you how we came to create a place where these plants could grow free and healthy, the way  they do in their country of origin, so distant, fascinating, mysterious: Africa. “Aloe tricolor flore rubro” and “Aloe africana caulescens foliis glaucis caulem amplectentibus”. Thus were labelled the first Aloes ever introduced in Europe, in 1695. They came from the gardens of the  Dutch East India Company in  Cape Town, South Africa; today they are named, thanks to Linneus, “Aloe maculata” and “Aloe arborescens”. Actually, the history of Aloe dates back to much earlier times, thanks to its medical properties. References to this plant (probably  A. vera) are to be found in  Sumeric tables, and in Egyptian temples’ inscription. A papyrus  scroll dating about 1550bC has a list of Aloe-based remedies that appears like a magic ritual formula. This is not the place to deal with this aspect, although interesting; going back to 1695, some time passed before botanical expeditions were carried out  methodically, but by the end of 1800 (up to today) the African continent slowly unveiled its treasures. Baker, Schonland, Pole-Evans, Reynolds  and more recently S. Carter and J. Lavranos, to name but a few, were involved in researching and describing Aloe and unknown succulents.

As said before, we wanted to recreate the best possible growing condition to cultivate our Aloes. All those who are involved in growing succulents (or every plant, indeed) know how important it is to know the exact condition where a variety grows in the wild; such knowledge will allow the grower to grant it the climate and exposition most suited, be it dryish (A. striata, A suzannae) or moist (A.bellatula, A. haemantifolia). Aloes, tipically, grow everywhere in Africa, including the islands (A. aldabrensis from Seychelles, A. macra from Reunion island) and the  arabic peninsula (A. tomentosa, A. fleurentinorum). They are found in the widest possible range of habitats, from Namibia desert (A. pillansii),  to the Mediterranean climate of coastal South Africa (A. mitriformis), or tropical highlands (A tauri, A. zebrina grow at  1800 metres). Moreover there are species that grow on perfectly vertical cliffs  (A. corallina, A. hardyi) , and other that in the winter are covered by snow a (A. polyphylla).

All considered, someone could have suggested to give up our plans, and stick to cultivating them in pots. However, we accepted  the challenge: had it been easier, it wouldn’t have been so fascinating to plan a garden of Aloes. Actually, having grown them for more than ten years, we had  a thorough experience and had exchanged information with other aloe lovers (specially friends from the Latium branch of the Adipa - Association for the cultivation of unusual plants). We knew that this genus of plants could thrive in our climate, wasn’t too fussy about soils, could even stand the cares and tortures that passionate growers like us lavish on our plants – what with experiments, trials, transplants. We had seen a wonderful A. maculata growing in a terrace way up North, in Turin; a gigantic A. vera thriving  in a smallish pot, and a A. striatula in full bloom, outdoors in February, near Rome.

Clearly  our passion for such a versatile genus, so rich in shapes and dimension, from giant A. excelsa and spiky A. ferox, to minimal A. bowiea, could not be confined to a bunch of pots on a balcony: it deserved to develop its potential outdoors, in a field. Fortunately my parents lived in the countryside near Rome, and they offered their garden. So we selected the spot, and installed a  tunnel structure covered with a plastic  film, with open sides. We did not need to prepare any special soil: the garden is in the Castelli Romani, a group of volcanic hills south of  Rome with a very fertile soil, high in potash, with excellent porous grain and high air content. We added, for the sake of zeal, slow releasing fertilizer N:P:K=8:20:24, a multi-purpose insecticide in grains and we tilled the soil to a depth of 30 cm, and manually weeded the whole area. Now we finally had a place to grow our Aloes.

The following Spring we moved our pot-grown plants in their new garden. The bigger ones (A. ferox, A. littoralis) took more time to get accustomed to the new position and  recover, probably because they were slower to rebuild an efficient root system. The weekly irrigations and the mild temperatures (rarely below 0°C in the winter, and hardly above 30°C in the summer; only once we experienced a -6°C in the winter, without major damages) helped starting the new garden. Already the first summer we were rewarded with the first blooms (A. jucunda, A krapoliana v. dumoulinii). In January, in spite of a long drought begun in November and the resulting shrunken look, the Aloes started to bloom in a sequence: the pink flowers of A. microstigma  were followed by the delicate red flowers of  A. pictifolia,  then the typical red blooms of  A. variegata, the pale pink, yellow shaded flowers of  A. prinslooi, the fiercely orange spikes of A. ammophila). The invasive A. maculata (saponaria) produced two imposing flower stalks and begun  to sucker. When we took to watering, in March, every day we found that a new plant was blooming: the garden was by then established, to our satisfaction.

All this was happening in 2003.

The whole process – the selection of  the place, installation of a sheltering coverage, soil preparation, and then transplanting  the plants - had been a fatiguing work, but we were rewarded by the results. After many years of  dreaming about it, a whole garden space completely devoted to Aloes was finally born. Our satisfaction was improved by the positive reaction of the Aloes, that flourished, grew healthy and lush, and produced spectacular, multicolored blooms year round. In the following years, many plants suckered, others fruited and produced plenty of seeds; this allowed us to give pups and seeds to other collectors and aloe lovers. Thus we helped  spreading the knowledge of this wonderful plant genus, a genus that is better known for it s medical virtues than its beauty and garden value.

Unfortunately, like many dreams come true, we were woken up abruptly. In 2008 our situation changed and we were forced to accept the idea that the garden had to be moved in a different place.
For  months we were completely absorbed by a range of proposals and suggestion, looking for  a solution. All possibilities were carefully evaluated, pros and cons weighed, but none seemed to meet our requirements – often, something would happen at the last minute, to prevent a solution to be adopted.

At one point it looked like we were stall and had no ways out of the predicament  we were; but then we understood that we had to change our attitude towards the future of our collection. We should not think about what we wanted for ourselves, we should select the best solution for the plants. From the moment we realized that the priority was the well-being of the plants, we decided to offer the collection to the Gardens La Mortella in Forio d’Ischia: the best place we could hope to find  for our wonderful, fascinating plants. We would like to thank Lady Walton, creator of the garden, Alessandra Vinciguerra, garden director, and  Fondazione William Walton e La Mortella, that manages the gardens, for the constant effort they put in the conservation and protection of all plants grown in this veritable “paradise garden”: they guarantee that our dream will survive.

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Just a brief note about cultivation: the only pests we have found can bother Aloes are mealy bugs: we control them with occasional sprays of systemic insecticide (typically Confidor - Bayer); one has to notice that when grown  in open soil,  roots develop freely  and spread, and therefore they are not susceptible to root pests as they are in pot cultivation. The occasional aphid infestation on flower stalks does not last long, nor harm the plant, so we do not spray for this.

Aloe propagation is easy. Some sucker abundantly, to the verge of being invasive (A. maculata), some produce plenty of branches (A. glauca, A. delaetii, A arborescens, A. brevifolia) that can be made into easily rooted cuttings. Other Aloe that don’t show  the same feature  (A. polyphylla, A. suzannae, A. excelsa), can only be propagated by seeds; reliable seed companies, such as Silverhill Seeds or  Koehres can be contacted. Moreover several specialized nurseries throughout Europe (Audissou, Exotica, Palisano) list Aloes in their catalogues.

AKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to  Priscilla, to Gaetano Palisano for his advice and all the rest, to Jole and  Giampietro who edited the text, to the members of Cactus & Co. of Latium branch, who bear with our “vegetables”: aloe, gasteria, haworthia.