Readers, be forewarned: "The Tulip" may just start tulipomania all over again. Its author, famed British garden writer, Anna Pavord, laughs good-naturedly at the accusation. "I certainly hope so," she says. "That's exactly what I had in mind."

Pavord, who is speaking at Ladew Topiary Gardens on Tuesday, not only glories in her own obsession with the flower, but also entices the reader along in her new book, "The Tulip: The Story of a Flower That Has Made Men Mad." This is a definitive and wonderfully enjoyable history of the tulip, exploring the sweet malady of tulipomania when and wherever it has occurred, accompanied by exquisite color plates throughout. And, as Pavord makes clear, the tulip is not just any flower.

The tulip has been the subject of historic intrigue, international economic booms -- and busts -- to match anything Wall Street has to offer, even being responsible for the overthrow of an empire. Quite a resume.

Thought to originate in the Tien Shan mountain range of central Asia, the tulip had already entranced the rulers and poets of Persia and the Ottoman Empire for centuries by the time it reached Europe in the 1580s.

For example, by 1726 sultan Ahmed the Third thought nothing of having 50,000 tulip bulbs shipped to him regularly -- at taxpayer expense -- just for his imperial garden. Royal tulip fetes took place on a truly astonishing scale, which, Pavord notes, may have had more than a little to do with Ahmed's being overthrown in 1730.

What caused all this commotion was the historic tulip's mysterious ability to "break" into gorgeous streaks and patterns of red and purple over white, cream and yellow backgrounds, seemingly at will.

Combined with this charming, if unpredictable, variability was the euphoria of the era during which it was introduced to Europe from the East. The age of exploration was in full swing by the early 17th century. Science seemed to be on the verge of offering control of nature, and to gardeners, control of the tulip.

Quaint formulas for stimulating and directing the "breaking" process were exchanged with the exhilaration of hot stock market tips.

In fact, during the famous Dutch tulipomania of the 17th century, tulip "futures" were traded avidly by syndicates, based on the weight of the bulb.

One coveted variety, 'Semper Augustus,' went for 1,800 guilders per bulb at the height of this frenzy in the 1640s, the equivalent of around $120,000 today.

By 1800, things had calmed down a great deal. As it fell out of favored status with the upper classes and gardening styles changed, the tulip became the darling of working class cottage gardeners, especially urban weavers in England. Meticulous breeding and preservation efforts by these dedicated amateurs made possible the tulip as we know it today.

Then, in the early part of the 20th century, the actual cause behind "breaking" was revealed in a modern laboratory. The cause lay in a microscopic virus, not alchemy.

Since its discovery, the virus has been systemically, often ruthlessly, bred out of modern tulips by Dutch bulb growers. The reasoning behind this elimination is that the virus, while producing spectacular blooms, also weakens the bulbs and makes them both more susceptible to other diseases and less productive as a crop.

Pavord laments in her book, "It's a sad thing, because people now think that tulips are boring, rather than exotic and jewel-like."

We have grown too used, she thinks, to seeing great swaths of them used in static bedding schemes reminiscent of the late 19th century, where the satiny blooms lose their individuality and magic. Even the new "Rembrandt" varieties, she believes are but tame imitations of the "broken" blossoms.

In addition to spending six years working on her book, Pavord has traveled extensively in Europe and the Near East in search of her quarry. Her treks have taken her from Christie's auction house in London to Crete, even braving guerrilla warfare in her quest for tulips growing in the wild.

Pavord has planted upward of 2,500 tulips on her own 1 acres in Dorset, England. When asked how many she plans to add, she laughs softly: "I should try and be stronger with myself ... but gardening is to indulge ourselves, or what are we doing it for?

"There are between 5,000 and 6,000 varieties available commercially. My intention is to grow some of each of them." Gardeners will understand that sort of passion.

And for those who still lust after the true, "broken" blossoms, Pavord leaves this hope: "The virus still exists, in old gardens, like Williamsburg perhaps, even under Manhattan skyscrapers. What we need to do is learn to seize on the novelties in our own gardens, to have patience, to see how they turn out. To take care of what we have."

Author to speak

Anna Pavord, author of "The Tulip," will speak at Ladew Topiary Gardens on Tuesday at 10:30 a.m. Cost is $20. A book-signing will follow. Advance reservations are required. Call 410-557-9570.

Varieties to look for

What does Anna Pavord recommend for the tulip lover who seeks an alternative to the more standard flowers? Original, species tulips.

Some varieties she suggests are:

Tulipa clusiana, a long-lasting bicolor of candy-stripe red and pale yellow

T. pulchella, available in a range of cardinal reds, magenta and purplish rose

T. bakeri, a cheerful rosy lilac color with yellow base

T. whittalli, an unusual burnt-caramel color.

Other particular favorites are:

'Gudoshnik,' a unique variety of creamy yellow, spotted with red and flamed rose on the ribs, with a bluish-black interior

'Maxgier,' which starts out white with a purple flush at the edges and slowly turns completely purple by the end of flowering

'Couleur Cardinal,' scarlet red flushed with plum

'Prinses Irene,' soft orange, flushed with purple

'Weber's Parrot,' which she characterizes as "a real fop of a tulip -- like a fancy handkerchief, with each flower very individual." -- Ary Bruno

Pub Date: 03/14/99