Fragrant, Lovely Carolina Allspice

Calycanthus floridus Michael Lindsey in my garden

The first time I smelled a Carolina allspice in bloom was over thirty years ago in the overgrown yard of an abandoned farmstead. The property was near my home in a secluded location, and I often went there on summer walks.

It was an early spring evening. The last of the sun’s rays streamed low through the trees. Unmowed grass lapped at the farmhouse foundations like a weedy ocean, softening its forlorn and empty hulk. Vines climbed through open maws in the stone ruin. It had been decades since anyone had lived there.

Yet the most wonderful scent of ripe strawberry and pineapple filled the air. At first I couldn’t fathom where it was coming from. Apart from a few daffodils there was nothing left of the old garden.

But in the front yard, a suckering shrub shot through with honeysuckle and poison was wildly abloom, covered in brownish-red, rosebud-like flowers. They felt like paper but didn’t have much smell individually. They certainly weren’t much to look at. Could this be the source? Why did the air smell so delicious, yet each flower smell so little?

It was indeed the source. Needless to say I fell in love with that scent and soon figured out it was Carolina Allspice, Calycanthus floridus.

Sometimes called Sweetshrub or Spicebush, this long-lived, hardy shrub is native to the eastern US. Finding one for sale wasn’t easy back then, and finding a fragrant one even harder. (The farmstead was bulldozed before I could take a cutting.) Fragrance can be highly variable even within the same species. It can take years for a shrub to produce enough flowers for the scent to concentrate.

Michael Lindsey my garden

Today this old-fashioned shrub is back in vogue. New introductions offer larger flowers, better color, and more reliable fragrance (for some). While it’s true individual flowers have little scent, taken together, the collective perfume wafting from a mature plant will delight all who pass by. The effect is neither overpowering nor cloying, like some of the spring viburnums, but soft and fruity with undertones of allspice– hence the name.

If the fragrance doesn’t captivate you, now there’s beauty as well. The native species admittedly isn’t very striking to look at. But two new hybrids are simply gorgeous! Let’s take a look at the best choices for scent and beauty.

Best for fragrance

Michael Lindsey – This nativar is relatively slow growing in dappled shade to part sun in my garden. The foliage has a well branched habit; flowers open burgundy and age to mahogany. At five years old, the scent from my specimen is excellent. Horticulture magazine calls Michael Lindsey “hands down the best form for the straight species…the flowers are as fragrant as any other.” Other sources also vouch for its reliably good scent and attractive bushy form.

But do be patient. It took my 1-gallon plant several years to get large enough to generate enough flowers for good fragrance. I would describe the scent as ripe strawberry-allspice. This cultivar will reach 8 X 5 feet but can easily be pruned smaller. Autumn color is a clear butter yellow to rich gold. I highly recommend it.

Michael Lindsey bloom detail

Edith Wilder – Perhaps the oldest and best-known for scent, but hard to find today. Edith gets 8 X 8 feet, suckers freely and won’t win any beauty contests with its brownish flowers. But its lifespan is long, 20+ years; this was probably the cultivar I smelled all those years ago. Perfect for a native or semi-wild planting if you can find it.

Edith Wilder (photo courtesy of Beechwood Gardens)

Athens – Reputed to smell like spicy pineapple; some say it has the fruitiest scent of all. Athens features pale- to yellow-green flowers and gets 9 to 12 feet tall. Strictly for properties with plenty of room.

Best for Beauty

Aphrodite – This recent hybrid has ravishing red flowers with cream-tipped inner tepals and a dark eye. Blossoms are larger and more substantial than most calycanthas but fewer in number. Fragrance is usually described as “light,” but don’t count on it. All the specimens I’ve smelled so far haven’t had any scent at all. The lovely flowers are reason enough to grow this beautiful cultivar. Full size is 8 X 5 feet.

Venus – This variety boasts creamy white blooms which gently repeat all season, even in shade. Venus is a vigorous grower with large shiny leaves. After a flush of modest bloom in May, it continues to throw occasional flowers all summer.

Venus’s fragrance is very light and delicate, smelling vaguely of bananas. (Don’t buy it for fragrance.) It will easily top 5 feet in one season if you let it, ultimately reaching 7 feet high. I keep mine about 4 x 4 by pruning it aggressively several times a summer.

Venus is a must-have for a woodland understory in part sun or dappled light. She’s a great problem solver for shade too. While there is no appreciable autumn color, the magnolia-like starry flowers are simply irresistible in April and May. Very popular, drawing many comments from visitors.

Cultivation

Derived from U.S. native and Chinese stock, calycanthus hybrids are hardy, tough and disease-free. They need no care at all except occasional pruning. Deep loam with a slightly acidic ph is ideal but calycanthas can handle a wide range of soil types. Once established they look after themselves. Of course, annual mulch is appreciated.

Despite all the fuss about scent, no calycanthus is really pollinator friendly. They are best enjoyed in the landscape in spring. Deer usually leave them alone unless the winter is especially severe.

Siting

Put them anywhere– in full sun, dappled light, even moderate shade — and they will thrive. Most grow a bit rangy under shady conditions but will still produce a light show of flowers. For strongest flower production, a few hours of sun is advisable.

Venus opening

A Scent That Stays With You

I still remember that first whiff of strawberry spice like it was yesterday. After that shrub’s demise, it would be decades before I acquired a sweetshrub of my own. Now its scent lives on just as I remember it, whenever my Michael Lindsey is in bloom. It’s very gratifying. Funny how scents are so entwined with our memories.

Next time you’re pondering a landscape addition, think about a Carolina Sweetshrub. Few plants are as easy-care for such simple pleasures as scent and beauty.

A Pennsylvania gardener

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *