Sometimes the name will commemorate someone special, such as a close friend or relative, although it is not unusual to name a fuchsia after a personality.

In those respects things haven’t changed very much during the last 180 years or so but if we look a little closer at the names that were used in the very early days of fuchsia hybridisation there are a few avenues that are not used so much nowadays.

Early hybridisers tended to follow the examples of botanists when they named their plants. Botanists often used a Latinised form of mini description to describe a species. A quick look at Plumier’s name for the fuchsia he discovered shows that his choice of name was also its description: i.e. fuchsia (commemorating Fuchs) triphylla (three leafed) flore (flower) coccineo (scarlet)—or more simply, a plant with a scarlet flower, three leaves and named in honour of Fuchs.

As subsequent species were discovered the relevant taxonomist might have chosen to name it after an aspect of its growing habit as in F. excorticata, (excoriation meaning stripped of bark) or it might refer to a plant’s manner of having serrated leaves as in F. serratifolia. Small leaves gave F. microphylla its name and F. apetala simply confirmed that this was a plant without petals.

Sometimes the location where the plant was found provided the name as in F. boliviana, (after Bolivia) or F. magellanica, discovered in the vicinity of the Strait of Magellan.

The first hybrids tended to continue this practice, as in Bunney’s hybrid F. globosa, introduced in 1832, was so called because the flower was globose in shape. A year or so later a fulgens hybrid was introduced. It was called Fuchsia Stylosa Conspicua (with a prominent, easy-to-be-seen style.)

The use of personal names is popular nowadays so President George Bartlett and President Leo Boullemier were called simply by those names when fuchsias were named after them.

That would have been a bit too familiar for the hybridists of the 1830s and early 40s. The nurseryman John Standish introduced a hybrid named after himself but called it Standishii, so following the botanists’ usage of Latin.

Suffixes such as ‘ii’ or ‘iana’ were often added on to a name when applied to a flower. It was also an ideal way for Mr. Standish, the nurseryman, to promote his own name in the quest for new business.

One of the most popular themes for names in the 1840s appeared to coincide with the growth to Queen Victoria’s family after her accession in 1837. ‘Prince Albert’. ‘Princess Royal’ and ‘Alice Maud Mary’ were all commemorated in this way.

Queen Victoria herself attracted no fewer than four other hybrids called Queen Victoria over a period of ten years and three more were to be introduced before the end of the century. That pattern is not quite as popular nowadays although Arthur Tickner introduced Queen Elizabeth 2nd a couple years ago.

It is difficult to imagine that the choice of a name could be anything more than a personal preference, although hybridists might tell you that a name has always been important if you want to catch the imagination of the public.

Many a flower has fallen by the wayside, not because it was any less attractive than the next fuchsia but because, somehow, the name didn’t quite appeal to the buyer. How often have you bought a fuchsia because of the appeal of its name?

There are a few little tales to go with the naming of fuchsias. Carol Gubler, who runs a successful fuchsia nursery in the UK has a fuchsia named after her. It is called ‘Taddle’—because that is the way she used to pronounce her name as a youngster.

‘Ben Jammin’, a hybrid by Howard Carless, was created because Benjamin had already been used and Howard was keen to commemorate his dog.

‘Cambridge Louie’, a popular show plant some years ago was named for a blind lady who had a remarkable ability to detect a scent in fuchsia flowers. Her name was Louie and she lived in the Cambridge area of eastern England.

Back in the 1840s a firebrand horticultural writer by the name of George Glenny wrote a long article on the naming of plants. He remarked, “…we frequently judge of a man’s taste by very trifling acts, and sometimes fancy we can take the measure of his capacity by the names he gives his plants.”

There might have been some truth in that statement of course and Mr. Glenny certainly appeared to have very strong views on subjects that were taboo. Woe betide any hybridist who felt that he was at liberty to go to the Bible for his flower names.
George Glenny had very strong views on the subject. “It is a wanton attack on the many scruples of many pious Christians; a perversion of sacred things.” While such protests are unlikely to bother many of today’s hybridisers, the choice of a suitable name for a new fuchsia is still worthy of some forethought