The name lupin comes from 'lupus' meaning a wolf or destroyer, and, according to Prof William Stern, in his fascinating Dictionary of Plant Names, stems from the erroneous belief that these plants destroyed the fertility of the soil. They do, indeed, grow in poor soils, but this is because, like peas, they can make their own nitrogen fertiliser with the help of beneficial bacteria that live in their roots. Ancestors of the garden lupin and its relations grow wild in the Andes, Rockies, Mediterranean, African highlands and in South America. The tree lupin was brought over from California in 1793. An excellent choice for coastal gardens, they were planted on the Norfolk coast at Blakeney Point before the Second World War as a shelter for migrant birds. Today, they have expanded into dense yellow, honey scented thickets. Unusual but noteworthy species for the garden include Lupinus albifrons and Lupinus ornatus. Lupinus albifrons is a shrubby plant with short spikes of delicate flowers turning from cream, through lavender, to violet blue. Silky, silvery leaves provide architectural interest until autumn. Lupinus ornatus is a connoisseur's plant lovingly described by the plantsman Graham Stewart Thomas, when covered with spires of blue and white, as 'one of the loveliest sights in the garden'. The lupin that has had most influence on our garden varieties is the North American blue species, Lupinus polyphyllus. Crossed with the tree lupin and a range of annual species it has brought us the familiar hybrid garden lupin.

The beautiful colour range found today started with the dedicated, almost obsessive efforts of one man in the early 1900s: George Russell. Russell, a jobbing gardener, was familiar with the early crosses derived from Lupinus polphyllus, but was not impressed with their weak blue, purple and white colours and gappy flower spikes. In 1911, when in his late 50s, he took it upon himself to breed the perfect lupin. On a modest allotment in York, he grew on seeds and plants sent from around the world and let the bees get to work carrying pollen from one flower spike to another. He planted the resulting seeds and grew them until they flowered. Russell's skill was rogueing: ruthlessly removing all the plants that did not come up to his standard. Over the years his selected flower spikes became denser, larger and more colourful.

His lifetime's work could easily have been buried with him, as he was very secretive, but a nurseryman from Codsell, James Baker, stepped in and saved the day. He accused Russell of being selfish, after which Russell, then in his late 70s, gave him all his stock of thousands of lupins. There were, of course, conditions. His assistant, Sonny, was to be guaranteed a job for the rest of his life, and he himself could rogue the new plants. True to his word, he turned up the next year and pulled out those he considered inferior, leaving only 200 out of thousands. With Russell's ruthlessness, and Baker's skill, many of the results are still with us today.

Russell's work has inspired others, and new generations of lupins are being produced by new generations of enthusiastic gardeners. Johnny Walker, from Birmingham, nearly fell off his bicycle the first time he cycled past Baker's lupin fields, bowled over by the multicoloured patchwork stretching as far as the eye could see. A few years later, on a motorcycle, he returned to fill his sidecar with lupin plants. He befriended Sonny, who taught him the tricks of the trade, and went into breeding his own. Among his many successes are 'Aston Villa', a claret and blue bicolor and 'Canary', a deep yellow.

A few years ago he appeared on television's Channel Four and made a plea for young gardeners to take up the challenge. The letters poured in. One was from a young woman, Sarah Conibear. Sarah had already caught the lupin bug before she saw Johnny, and now, having added his lupin genes to hers, is getting even more impressive results. Like Johnny Walker and Russell she grows masses of lupins and rogues to get the best strains. Russell went for bombastic, closely packed flowers, Johnny Walker is aiming to revive the good blues, and breed some more unusual colours such as near black and green; and Sarah is going for a combination of good colour, strength, and flower size. She has some good strains already, including 'Pink Cadillac', the purple 'Bishop's Tipple', the pink and white 'Dolly Mixture', and is soon to release 30 new varieties.

The only remaining long standing specialist lupin nursery in the country belongs to the Woodfield brothers of Stratford-upon-Avon, from where Johnny and Sarah often buy or exchange plants. This nursery supplies an excellent range called the New Generation Strains derived from the Russell strains. It is worth visiting their stand at the Chelsea Flower Show. Notable varieties include the white 'Deborah Woodfield', the deep red Troop the Colour' and the yellow 'Moonraker'.

The nursery breeds extensively, concentrating on thick flower spikes with good points that are long lived, the flowers at the bottom remaining open when the ones at the tip flower. This year they are releasing 'Nigel Colborn', a white late flowering variety that is resistant to mildew and 'Steward Ogg', the deepest purple yet seen.

Fancy That
The Romans ate the roasted seeds of sweet white lupins, Lupinus albus and made them into coffee and, at the end of the First World War, German officials held a lupin feast to demonstrate the potential of this crop as a source of protein. Invitations were printed on paper made of lupins and the table was covered in a lupin tablecloth. Guests were served lupin soup, lupin cutlets, lupin cheese and even lupin coffee. In Chile, sweet white lupin flour is still used as a base in soups, stews and milk shakes in school meals, and spaghetti made from white lupin flour has been marketed in the United States.

An important word of caution: many lupins, including our garden hybrids, are full of poisonous alkaloids, so don't ever eat them.