_Iris versicolor_
_Flowers_--Several, 2 to 3 in. long, violet-blue variegated with yellow,
green, or white, and purple veined. Six divisions of the perianth: 3
outer ones spreading, recurved; 1 of them bearded, much longer and wider
than the 3 erect inner divisions; all united into a short tube. Three
stamens under 3 overhanging petal-like divisions of the style, notched
at end; under each notch is a thin plate, smooth on one side, rough and
moist (stigma) on side turned away from anther. _Stem:_ 2 to 3 ft. high,
stout, straight, almost circular, sometimes branching above. _Leaves:_
Erect, sword-shaped, shorter than stem, somewhat hoary, from 1/2 to 1
in. wide, folded, and in a compact flat cluster at base; bracts usually
longer than stem of flower. _Fruit:_ Oblong capsule, not prominently
3-lobed, and with 2 rows of round, flat seeds closely packed in each
cell. _Rootstock:_ Creeping, horizontal, fleshy.
_Preferred Habitat_--Marshes, wet meadows.
_Flowering Season_--May-July.
_Distribution_--Newfoundland and Manitoba to Arkansas and Florida.
This gorgeous flower is thought by scientists to be all that it is for
the bees’ benefit, which, of course, is its own also. Abundant moisture,
from which to manufacture nectar--a prime necessity with most
irises--certainly is for our blue flag. The large, showy blossom cannot
but attract the passing bee, whose favorite color (according to Sir John
Lubbock) it waves. The bee alights on the convenient, spreading
platform, and, guided by the dark veining and golden lines leading to
the nectar, sips the delectable fluid shortly to be changed to honey.
Now, as he raises his head and withdraws it from the nectary, he must
rub it against the pollen-laden anther above, and some of the pollen
necessarily falls on the visitor. As the sticky side of the plate
(stigma), just under the petal-like division of the style, faces away
from the anther, which is below it in any case, the flower is
marvellously guarded against fertilization from its own pollen. The bee,
flying off to another iris, must first brush past the projecting lip of
the overarching style, and leave on the stigmatic outer surface of the
plate some of the pollen brought from the first flower, before reaching
the nectary. Thus cross-fertilization is effected; and Darwin has shown
how necessary this is to insure the most vigorous and beautiful
offspring. Without this wonderful adaptation of the flower to the
requirements of its insect friends, and of the insect to the needs of
the flower, both must perish; the former from hunger, the latter because
unable to perpetuate its race. And yet man has greedily appropriated all
the beauties of the floral kingdom as designed for his sole delight!
“The fleur-de-lys, which is the flower of chivalry,” says Ruskin, “has a
sword for its leaf and a lily for its heart.” When that young and pious
Crusader, Louis VII, adopted it for the emblem of his house, spelling
was scarcely an exact science, and the _fleur-de-Louis_ soon became
corrupted into its present form. Doubtless the royal flower was the
white iris, and as _li_ is the Celtic for white, there is room for
another theory as to the origin of the name. It is our far more regal
looking, but truly democratic blossom, jostling its fellows in the
marshes, that is indeed “born in the purple.”
The name iris, meaning a deified rainbow, which was given this
group of plants by the ancients, shows a fine appreciation of their
superb coloring, their ethereal texture, and the evanescent beauty
of the blossom.