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A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

   

3 . ‘ WHAT IS umnn mum A Ross? \ .
' - . 'er xs‘ swat-rm? , ‘ ‘ ~-
Gcorzr Herbert. -. \,

    

 

 

       

 

 

 

A RUSH ARCH.

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‘70 FIFTH AVENUE

 

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BY

5. REYNOLDS flOLE

DEAN OF ROCHESTER, AUTHOR OF ‘A BOOK ABOUT THE GARDEN,‘ ETC.

       
 
 

With Illustrations

    

FIFTEENTH EDITION: REVISED

      

EDWARD ARNOLD

LONDON NEW YORK
37 BEDFORD STREET ’ 70 FIFTH AVENUE

1896

   
       
    
 
 

All rfigfits reserved

 
 

 

 

I DEDICATE MY BOOK TO

MY W I F E
BECAUSE

THERE ’S A ROSE LOOKING IN AT THE WINDOW
IN EVERY CONDITION OF LIFE-—

IN DAYS OF CONTENT AND ENJOYMENT,
IN HOURS WITH BITTERNESS RIFE.

VVHERE’ER THERE ’5 THE SMILE OF A TRUE WIFE,
As BRIGHT AS A BEAM FROM ABOVE,
’TIS THE ROSE LOOKING IN AT THE WINDOW,
AND FILLING THE DWELLING WITH LOVE.
From Poemx by 1’. M fumes.

 

PREFACE

I AM thankful to know, in my old age, that I have
been privileged to promote that love of a garden
which never fails to make our lives more happy;
and I have earnestly endeavoured to attest my
gratitude by such amendments and additions to
my little Book on the Rose as will, I hope, increase
its persuasive and instructive influence.

The most important of these additions—being a
help of transcendent value to the amateur—is A
List of the best Exhibition and Garden Roses, com—
piled by the most accomplished Rosarians of our
day, and included in this volume by the kind per-
mission of the National Rose Society. The names
of Roses, which have been proved to be worthy

of insertion in this catalogue, since its publication

viii PREFACE
in 1893, have been added by my friend Mr. Ben-
jamin Cant, of Colchester, the most successful of
our Exhibitors.

A charming pen-and—ink sketch sent to me by
John Leech, in a letter written at the time of the

First National Rose Show, will be admired by all.

S. REYNOLDS HOLE.

THE DEANERY,
ROCHESTER, 1896.

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE
I. CAUSES OF FAILURE, . . . . . I
II. CAUSES OF SUCCESS, . . . . . 12

III. OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY, . . . . 34
Iv. POSITION, . . . . . . 53
v. SOILS, . . . . . . . 65
v1. MANURES, . . . . . . 82

VII. ARRANGEMENT, . . . . . . 103

VIII. SELECTION, . . . . . . IzI
Ix. SELECTION (continued), . . . . . 144
X. GARDEN ROSES, . . . . . . 157
XI. GARDEN ROSES (continued), . . . . I74
XII. CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS, . . . . 185
XIII. ROSES FOR EXHIBITION, . . . . 207
XIV. HOW To SHOW THE ROSE, . . . . 225
xv. AT A ROSE-SHOW, . . . . . 248
xvx. MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTHS, . . . 268

APPENDIX: A SELECT LIST OF EXHIBITION AND
GARDEN ROSES, . . . . . 283

INDEX, . . . . . . 297

 

       

\

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

      
     
      
     
     
     
    
    

A ROSE ARCH, . ; . . . . Frontirpiew

THE CHALLENGE 0F VENUS T0 FLORA (Sketch by john

Leech), . . . . . Toface page I
A BOWER 0F ROSES, . . .' . ,, ,, - 18

_ ROSE HEDGE IN THE DEANERY GARDENS, ROCHESTER, ,, ,, 58

MARECHAL NIEL AT THE VILLA ZIRIO, SAN REMO, ,, ,, [[2
AYRSHIRE ROSES AT KEW, . . . ,, ,, I38
THERE’S A ROSE LOOKING IN AT THE WINDOW, ,, ,, 178
A CLIMBING ROSE, . . . . ,, ,, 190

TEA ROSES AT FRASCATE, .

 

 

 

THE CHALLENGE 0F VENUS TO FLORA

A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

CHAPTER I
CAUSES OF FAILURE

HE who would have beautiful Roses in his garden
must have beautiful Roses in his heart He must
love them well and always. To win, he must woo,
as Jacob wooed Laban’s daughter, though drought
and frost consume. He must have not only the
glowing admiration, the enthusiasm, and the passion,
but the tenderness, the thoughtfulness, the reverence,
the watchfulness of love. With no ephemeral caprice,
like the fair young knight’s, who loves and who rides
away when his sudden fire is gone from the cold
white ashes, the cavalier of the Rose has smzperfia’elz's
upon his crest and shield. He is loyal and devoted
ever, in storm—fraught or in sunny days; not only
the first upon a summer’s morning to gaze admir-
ingly on glowing charms, but the first, when leaves
fall and winds are chill, to protect against cruel

frost. As with smitten bachelor or steadfast mate
A

 

2 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

the lady of his love is lovely ever, so to the true
Rose-grower must the Rose—tree be always a thing
of beauty. To others, when its flowers have faded,
it may be worthless as a hedgerow thorn: to him,
in every phase, it is precious. I am no more the
Rose, it says, but cherish me, for we have dwelt
together; and the glory which has been, and the
glory which shall be, never fade from 112': Ilean‘.

Is it rare or frequent, this fond and complete
affection? Go to one of our great exhibitions, and
you must surely bring the conviction home, that
true love, seen seldom in the outer world, may be
always found ‘among the Roses.’ From all grades
and epochs of life, what vows of constancy, what
fervid words! ‘Sir Thomas and I are positively
going to ruin ourselves with a new Rosarium.’ ‘As
soon as I get home,’ says a country rector, ‘I shall
plant an acre of my globe with Roses.’ There you
may see a Royal Duchess so surprised out of her
normal calmness, that she raises two pale pink
gloves in an ecstasy of surprise, and murmurs, ‘Oh,
how lovely!’ over Maréchal Niel. There a Cabinet
Minister stands tiptoe to catch a glimpse of his
brother senator, Vaz‘sse, and wishes he had a neck
as long as Cicero's. Obstructing his view with her
ample form and bountiful bonnet, our old friend
Mrs. Brown, who has just had ‘one drop of the

CAUSES OF FAILURE 3

least as is,’ informs the public that she ‘knows for
facts that Mr. Turner of Slough has a dead horse
under every Rose—tree, and Pauls & Sons has hun-
dreds of young men with gig—umbrellas standing
over their Roses when it rains heavy.’ Mrs. Brown
is delighted, like all around, and ‘means to tell
Brown, as soon as ever she sets down in her own
parlour, that Marshal Need all over the house, and
Catherine Mermaid and Merry Bowman1 round the
back door, grow she must and will. But goodness
me!’ she suddenly exclaims, ‘what a mess 0’ them
reporters!’ No, my dear madam, they are not
reporters—only spectators, putting down in their
note—books the names of Roses, with an expression
of eager interest which says, I must have that
flower or die.

Every year this enthusiasm increases. It is not
easy to collect reliable statistics: some who might
furnish them, if they would, shut their mouths
closely; some open them so widely as to justify the
amusing sarcasm of a reverend and roseate brother,
‘ When they count their trees, they include the aphis.’
Suffice it to say, that where Roses were grown twenty
years ago by the dozen they are grown by the thou-
sand, and where by the thousand now by the acre.

But now comes a most important question,——Have

1 Catherine Mermct and Marie Baumann.

 

4 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

we beautiful Roses in proportion to this great
multiplication of Rose—trees? The printer will
oblige me by selecting a brace of his biggest and
blackest capitals, with which I may reply emphati-
cally, NO! It is indeed, at first sight, a marvel
and perplexity, that while the love of Roses is
professed so generally—~while the demand for Rose-
trees has increased so extensively, and the flower
itself has every year disclosed some new and pro-
gressive charm—Roses should be so rarely seen in
their full and perfect beauty. Queen Rosa, in
common with other potentates, has greatly enlarged
her armies, but her most illustrious heroes are, with
few exceptions, veterans, or the sons of veterans,
and names, which were famous when, in 1858, we
commenced the second series of the ‘Wars of
the Roses,’ such as Rivers and Paul, Cant, Turner,
Prince, and Veitch, are still familiar in our mouths
as household words. Though some of her greatest
generals have left us, as full of years as honours,
including my Past—Master,1 Mr. Rivers of Sawbridge-
worth, who did more than any other man to evoke
and to educate a love of the Rose, Mr. Charles

Turner of Slough, and Mr. Prince of Oxford, in all

1 I have a copy of the last edition of his ‘Rose Amateurs’ Guide,’
in which he wrote, ‘ Once your master, now your pupil ;’ but he had
forgotten more than I ever knew.

 

CAUSES OF FAILURE 5

these cases there has been an entail and inheritance
of talent and success. And though the same can-
not be said of those amateur exhibitors, of those
victorious knights, who tilt no more in our tourna—
ments, such as Hedge and Pochin, Baker and Hall,
that they are succeeded by their heirs and assigns,
some of those who were coeval with them still
compete, and it is long since the conquerors in this
brigade of the Royal Army first won their spurs.
Nevertheless there has been no declension, but rather
an annual development, owing to the introduction of
new varieties, in the beauty of our exhibitions; and
we must pass from the public Rose—show to the
private Rose-garden to see in its saddest phase the
difference between what is and what ought to be—-—
the feeble harvest of good Roses from the broad
acres of good Rose-trees. These collections remind
us of Martial’s description of his works, ‘Sunt bona,
sunt quxdam mediocria, sunt mala plura.’ We can
hardly say of them, as an Edinburgh Reviewer (was
it Sydney Smith?) of a volume of sermons, criticised
in the first number of that work, ‘Their character-
istic is decent debility.’ As a rule, the amateur
Rosarian has made about as much progress as
George III. with his fiddle. After two years’
tuition, the King asked his tutor, Viotti, what he
thought of his pupil: ‘Sire,’ replied the professor,

6 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

‘there are three classes of violinists; those who
cannot play at all, those who play badly, and those
who play well. Your Majesty is now commencing to
enter upon the second of these classes.’ There is
not a garden nowadays of any pretension, which has
not its collection of Roses, and yet there is not one
garden in twenty where the flower is realised in its
beauty. I have scarcely known at times whether
to laugh or weep, when I have been conducted with I
a triumphal air by the proprietor to one of those
dismal slaughter-houses which he calls his Rosary.
The collection is surrounded by a few miserable
climbers, justly gibbeted on poles or hung in rusty
chains, and consists of lanky standards, all legs
and no head, after the manner of giants, or of
stunted ‘dwarfs,’ admirably named, and ugly as
Quilp; the only sign of health and vigour being
the abundant growth of the Manetti stock, which
has smothered years ago the small baby committed
to its care, but is still supposed to be the child
itself, and is carefully pruned year after year
in expectation of a glow of beauty. There is
no beauty, and there never will be, for the florist;
but to the entomologist what a happy, peaceful
home! There can be no museum in all the
world so exquisitely complete in caterpillars, or so

rich with all manner of flies. What cosy chambers

 

CAUSES OF FAILURE 7

they make for themselves, What spacious nurseries
for their delightful offspring, in the cracks and the
cankers, the broken bark, the moss, and the lichen, of
those ancient standard trees! For me there is no
solace in these charms. I stand sorrowful and silent,
like Marius among the ruins, until my companion
wishes to know whether I can tell him why that
wretched Charles Lefebvre behaves so disgrace-
fully in his garden? On reflection, perhaps I
can. Charles Lefebvre is placed, like Tityrus, ‘sub
tegmine fagi,’ under the drip and shadow of a noble
beech—tree, whose boughs above and roots beneath
effectually keep all nourishment from him. And do
I know why Charles Lawson, Blairii 2, and Persian
Yellow never have a flower upon them? Simply
because they are pruned always, as no man with
seeing eyes could prune them twice, so closely that
they make nothing but wood. The single standards,
again, are grassed up to the very Brier, except where
a circular space is left for ‘just a few bedding-out
things ’—leeches draining the life-blood of the Rose.

It is Mrs. Hemans, I think, who sings,—

‘ Around the red Rose the convolvulus climbing ;’

and it sounds sweetly pretty, and would be the
loveliest arrangement possible, only that, unfortu-
nately, it is death to the Rose—death to that queen

 

8 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

who brooks no rival near, much less upon, her throne.
Look, too, at those vagabond suckers clustering like
Jewish money-lenders or Christian bookmakers round
a young nobleman, and stealing the sap away. Well
may that miserable specimen be called a ‘Souvenir
de Comte Cavour,’ for it is dying from depletion, like
its illustrious namesake. The earth is set and
sodden ; no spade nor hoe has been there. As for
. manure, a feeling of profound melancholy comes over
us, as over Mr. Richard Swiveller when he discovered
that the Marchioness had passed her youthful days in
ignorance of the taste of beer. \Ve know that they
have never seen it, and yet they are expected to
bloom profusely; and when they are covered, not
with Roses, but grubs, the nurseryman, or the
gardener, or the soil is blamed. Then there is dole
in Astolat, and a wailing cry over dead Adonis. ‘ Is
it not sad that we cannot grow Roses? \Ve have
spared no trouble, no expense, and we do so dote
on them!’

The last time I heard a howl of this kind I felt
myself insulted as a lover of the Rose and of truth;
~ and instead of yelping in concert, as I was expected
to do, I snarled surlily, ‘You have taken no trouble
which deserves the name ; and as to expense, permit
me to observe that your fifty Rose-trees did not cost

you a fifth of the sum which you paid for your

 

,_ ...- /Aq.‘rnr:'-;er,.n-rr r . A .

 

CAUSES OF FAILURE 9

sealskin jacket. You don’t deserve beautiful Roses,
and you won’t have any until you love them more.’
If I am accused of discourtesy to the fair sex (she
was not very fair, my reader), I can only plead that I
have been far more explicit with the male specimen
of pseudo—Rosist. ‘I say, old fellow,’ remarked to
me a friend as we rode together in the Row, and
with a tone which, though it pretended a cheery
indifference, was fraught with rebuke and anger,
‘those Rose—trees, which you recommended me to
get, turned out a regular do. Cost a hatful of money
——precious near a tamer, if not all out——and, by Jove,
sir! our curate at the county flower—show came and
licked them all into fits!’ ‘Robert,’ I responded (I
was too indignant to address him with Bob, as usual),
‘I never in my life recommended a person of your
profound ignorance to have anything to do with
Roses. You asked me to give you a list of the best,
and I did so reluctantly, knowing that you had
neither the taste nor the energy to do them justice.
As to the outlay, the animal on which you have
recklessly placed yourself, and whose hocks are a
disgrace to this park, cost you, I know, more than
eighty guineas; and for a tithe of that sum, without
further supervision or effort, you expect a beautiful
Rose-garden. I rejoice to hear that the curate beat

you, just as that Eton boy on his nimble pony is

10 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

out-trotting at this moment your expensive but
tardy steed.’

Not a 5024199072 of sympathy can I ever feel for the
discomfiture of those Rose-growers who trust in
riches. They see lovely blooms at the Rose shows—
selected, probably, from fifty thousand trees, and the
results of excellent culture, untiring vigilance, and
care——and they say, \Ve will have these Roses for our
own forthwith, and in abundance. They have only
to put down the names, give an order, and sign a
cheque, to buy as they buy chairs and tables. They
go home and tell their gardener that they have
ordered a most splendid collection of Rose-trees, and
that they quite expect him next summer to have the
best display in the county. From my heart I pity
that gardener. They might as well have brought
him Bob’s hack, and told him that if he could not
win the Derby and the St. Leger with him, they
really must find somebody who could. He is not
even allowed to choose a situation. The tall ones
are to be planted on each side of the broad walk, and
the little ones opposite the boudoir window. The
broad walk may be as bleak as a common, or, under
the shade of melancholy boughs, as dank as a
mausoleum; and the dear little bed opposite the
boudoir never sees the sun until mid-day, when it is

grilled for three mortal hours, and then given back to

 

 

CAUSES OF FAILURE II

gloom. So there the poor Rose-trees stand—through
the winter, ludz'érz'um ventz's, or without any air at all,
and in the spring a rz'alz‘o, rendezvous, common-room,
and tap for all the riff-raff of the insect world—an
infirmary for all the diseases which the neglected
Rose is heir to. Some few, perhaps, may brave all
and bloom ; but they no more resemble the glorious
flowers which my lady saw at the Crystal Palace
than my little boy’s toy railway train resembles the
Scotch express.

In my next chapter I will tell what may be done
in a very small garden, by a very poor man who

really loves the Rose.

 

CHAPTER II
CAUSES or SUCCESS

FROM the lukewarm to the earnest, from sloth to
zeal, from failure to success. Some years ago, one
cold, slate-coloured morning towards the end of
March (‘hunch—weather,’ as I have heard it termed
in Lincolnshire, because, I suppose, a sense of starva-
tion has a tendency to set one’s back up), I received
a note from a Nottinghamvmechanic, inviting me to
assist in a judicial capacity at an exhibition of Roses,
which was to be given by working—men, and held on
Easter Monday. Not having at the time a Rose in
my possession, although, to my shame be it spoken,
I had ample room and appliances, and knowing,
moreover, that all the conservatories of the neigh-
bourhood were in a like destitute and disgraceful
condition, it never occurred to me that the tiny glass
houses, which I had seen so often on the hills near
Nottingham, could be more honourably utilised or
worthily occupied, and I threw down the letter on

my first impulse as a 1hoax, and a very poor one.

 

 

. ,4.um..w.- _._ .I ._.g

CAUSES OF SUCCESS I3

Hoaxes, I have observed, are not what they used to
be when I took an active part in them; and, more-
over, the proximity of the Ist of April made me
more than ordinarily suSpicious. Nevertheless, upon
a second inspection, I was so impressed by a look and
tone of genuine reality that I wrote ultimately to
the address indicated, asking somewhat sarcastically
and incredulously, as being a shrewd, superior person
not to be sold at any figure, what sorts of Roses were
so kind as to bloom during the month of April at
Nottingham, and nowhere else. By return of post I
was informed, with much more courtesy than I had
any claim to, that the Roses in question were grown
under glass—where and lzow, the growers would be
delighted to show me, if I would oblige them by my
company.

On Easter Monday, in due course, upon a raw
and gusty day, when spring and winter, sleet and
sunshine, were fighting round after round, like Spring
and Langan,1 for victory,——winter now retreating,
sobbing and puffing, to his corner, and now coming
on in force, black with rage, resistless, hitting out
hard and straight, until the sun’s eye had a sickly

1 I witnessed their great fight for the championship, in a show of
mechanical figures at Newark, at that early period of childhood when
such things seem to us realities; and I was astounded at the courage
and condition of Langan, who was knocked into the air about four
feet from the ground at the end of every round, and invariably came
down on his head I

14 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

glare, and the cold world trembled in his cruel hug
and grip,—I went to Nottingham. Again, as the
hail beat upon the window of the rail conveyance,
and I sat a’z't/h'rz'ng in the eastern wind, which whistled
its contempt of my rug and foot-warmer, a horrible
dread of imposition vexed my unquiet soul. Nor
were my silly suspicions expelled until my hansom
from the station stopped before the General Cathcart
Inn, and the landlord met me, with a smile on his
face and with a Senateur Vaisse in his coat, which
glowed amid the gloom like the red light on a
midnight train, and (in my eyes, at any rate) made
summer of that dark, ungenial day. \Vithin his
portals I found a crowd of other exhibitors, some
with Roses in their coats like himself, and some
without, for the valid reason that they were there in
their shirt—sleeves, with no coats at all, just as you
would see them at their daily work, and some of
them only spared from it to cut and stage their
flowers. These welcomed me with outstretched hands,
and seemed amused when, on their apologising for
their soiled appearance, I assured them of my Vivid
affection for all kinds of floricultural dirt, and that
I counted no man worthy of the name of gardener
whose skin was always white and clean. No: a rich,
glowing, gipsy brown is that one touch from Nature’s

paint-brush which makes the whole world of florists

 

: ‘Axwaémw a L I

.1 , um. “mum,

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 15

kin, which is seen. beneath the battered billycock and
the hat of shining silk, and which, whether the wearer
gets his garments from Poole or pawnbroker, whether
he be clad in double-milled or fustian, whether he

own a castle or rent an attic, unites all of us, heart

and hand.

‘ Who shall judge a man from manners?
Who shall know him from his dress?
Paupers may be fit for princes,
Princes fit for something less.
Crumpled shirt and dirty jacket
May beclothe the golden ore
Of the humblest thoughts and feelings—
What can satin vest do more?’

‘The Roses were ready: would I go up-stairs?’
And up-stairs accordingly, with my co-censor, a
nurseryman and skilled Rosarian of the neighbour-
hood, I mounted, and entered one of those long,
narrow rooms in which market—ordinaries are wont
to be held, wherein the Oddfellows, the Foresters,
and the Druids meet in mysterious conclave, and
where, during the race week and the pleasure-fair,
there is a sound of the Viol and the mazy dance.
What a contrast now! The chamber, whose normal
purpose was clamour and chorus from crowded men,
we found empty, hushed, and still; the air, on other
public occasions hot with cooked meats and steaming

tumblers, heavy with the smoke and smell of tobacco,

16 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

was cool and perfumed; and the table—you could
not see its homely surface of plain deal, stained with
spilt drinks, scorched by the expiring cigar, dinted
by knife-handles and by nut-crackers, when oration
or ballad ceased ; for it was covered from end to end
with beautiful and fragrant Roses! There was nothing
to remind of coarser pleasures or of the tavern here,
except, by the way, the bottles, which, once filled with
the creamy stout and with the fizzing beer of ginger,
now, like converted drunkards, were teetotally devoted
to pure water, and in that water stood the Rose.

A prettier sight, a more complete surprise of
beauty, could not have presented itself on that cold
and cloudy morning; and in no royal palace, no
museum of rarities, no mart of gems, was there that
day in all the world a table so fairly dight. As if to
heighten our enjoyment of the scene, and just as we
came upon it, the day darkened without, and the
sleet beat against the windows as though enraged by
this sudden invasion of Flora, and determined to fire
a volley on her ranks; but her soldiers only smiled
more brightly at the idle, harmless cannonade, just as
the brave general on his sign outside cared no more
for the rattling hail than, in the flesh, a few years
before, he had cared for Crimean snow.

Nor was our first enjoyment diminished, when,
from a general survey of this charming contrast, we

 

3
If
1
r

CAUSES OF SUCCESS I7

proceeded in our judicial office to a minute and
careful scrutiny. I have never seen better specimens
of cut Roses, grown under glass, than those which
were exhibited by these working—men. Their Tea-
Roses—Adam, Devoniensis, Madame Willermorz,
and Souvenir d’un Ami especially—were shown in
their most exquisite beauty; and I do not hesitate to
say that the best Maréchal Niel which I have ever
seen was shown in a jug at Nottingham! Many of
the Hybrid Perpetual varieties appeared in their
integrity—a difficult achievement when days are
short and dull. Of course, in an exhibition of this
kind, with difficulties to oppose which few dare to
encounter and very few overcome, these poor florists
must include among their masterpieces many speci-
mens of medium merit, and some failures. Among
the latter I cannot forget a small and sickly exposi-
tion of Paul Ricaut, who, by some happy coincidence,
which warmed my whole body with laughter, was
appropriately placed in a large medicine-bottle, with
a label requesting that the wretched invalid might be
well rubbed every night and morning. Poor Paul I a
gentle touch would have sent him to pot-pound!
When the prizes were awarded we left the show-
room, grave and important as two examiners coming
out of the schools at Oxford; and when the under-

graduates—I mean the stockingers—had rushed to
B

18 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

see who had taken honours and who were film/red, I
went with some of them to inspect their gardens.
These are tiny allotments on sunny slopes, just out
of the town of Nottingham,1 separated by hedges
or boards, in size about three to the rood—such an
extent as a country squire in Lilliput might be
expected to devote to horticulture. And yet it was
delightful to see how much might be, and was, done
in one of these pleasant plots. There was something

for every season :—
‘ The daughters of the year,
One after one, through that still garden pass,

Each garlanded with her peculiar flower.’
There, to cheer the ungcnial days of winter, were
the Christmas Rose, the Aconite, the Laurestinus,
the Golden Holly, the C/m'monmzt/zus fragrafls on
its snug bit of southern wall, with the large yellow
Jasmine near, and the winter Violets beneath. There,
to follow in the spring, the Mezereon, the Erica,
the Berberis, the Snowdrop, Hepatica, Polyanthus,
Crocus, and Tulip; after these the Lilac, Syringa,
Laburnum, Ribes, VVistaria, and then the Royal

1 No town in England displays the gardening spirit more manifestly
than ‘old Nottingham.’ Independently of gardens attached to
residences, there are, it is said, nearly 10,000 allotments within a
short distance of the town; and as many of these are divided, and in
some cases subdivided, it is not too much to affirm that from 20,000 to
30,000 of the inhabitants, or nearly one-half, take an active interest in
the garden. And where will you see such Roses as are produced upon
the Hunger Hills by these amateurs—~sucli cabbage and lettuce,
rhubarb and celery?

 

 

 

A BUWER OF Rows.

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 19

Rose. The straight standards, cleanly and closely
pruned, firmly staked and liberally mulched (blessed
be the boy with donkey and cart, who goes to a-
cheap market, and sells accordingly D; the Manetti
Dwarfs, full of vigorous wood—not the stock, but
the scion this time; the climbers tastefully trained
over ‘the bower of Roses by,’ dare I say, ‘ Bendigo’s
stream,’ seeing that the ex-champion was oft an
angler in the waters of the Trent, hard by ?—a11
these acknowledge the royal supremacy and the
loyal love of our second Queen. And think what
a refreshment for these working-men on a summer’s
eve, when their hot work is done, or on silent
Sabbaths, when there is no work to do, ‘to sit
’mong the Roses and hear the birds sing ’—~songs
of praise, and comfort, and hope!

Meanwhile they have a foretaste of this gladness
in the glass-houses which I went to see. Houses!
why, a full-sized giant would have taken them up
like a hand—glass; and even I, but a small office-

boy in connection with that great business,1 was

1 One of the first of many delicious stories which it was my
privilege to hear Mr. Thackeray tell, was, that once upon a time he
and Mr. Higgins (‘Jacob Omnium ’) went to see a Giant, and that the
man at the door inquired whether they were in the business, because,
if so, no charge would be made for admission. Mr. Thackeray
was 6 feet 4 inches, and Mr. Higgins not less than 6 feet 6 inches
in height. As the Eton boy, describing Windsor fair, remarked in
his Latin verse—

‘ Gigantesque duo, super honore meo.’

20 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

unable in most of them to stand upright, and into
some to enter at all. That ‘bit 0’ glass’ had been,
nevertheless, as much a dream, and hope, and happi-
ness to its owner as the Crystal Palace to Paxton.
How often the very thought and expectation of it
had soothed and relieved his weariness as he worked
at his stocking—frame 1 How the reality had refreshed,
refined him, in his brief, bright holiday hours! There
is a timber-yard on the left as you leave Nottingham,
travelling upon the Derby road, and therein the
framework of a neat miniature greenhouse, thus

described upon a board affixed to it :—

 

B. WHEELER’S
FIVE—GUINEA GREENHOUSE,
GLAZED, PAINTED, AND FIXED,

COMPLETE.

 

I grieve, when I pass, to think how many a true
but poor florist has stopped to read, and sigh. I
rejoice, when I pass, to believe. that many a poor
but brave florist has stopped to read, and has

has come, and seen, and

 

gone home to save
conquered.
A few of the structures, which I was invited to

inspect, were of fair dimensions; here a carpenter,

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 21

and here a bricklayer, and there a glazier, had made
his handicraft subserve his amusement; but the
accommodation, as a rule, was meagre, and I could
hardly believe that the grand Roses Which we had
just left could have come, like some village beauty
out of her cottage dwelling, from such mean and
lowly homes. But there were the plants, and there
were the proprietors, showing me proudly the stems
from which such and such favourites were cut, and
pointing to various healthy and handsome rose-buds,
which, though belonging to junior branches of the
family, gave promise of equal beauty.

How was it done? De Z’aéondame a’u azur—
from a true love of the Rose. ‘ It’s more nor a mile
from my house to my garden,’ said one of these
enthusiasts to me, ‘but I’ve been here for weeks,
in the winter months, every morning before I went
to my work, and every evening when I came from
it, and not seldom at noon as well, here and back,
and my dinner to get, between twelve and one
o’clock.’ ‘How do you afford,’ I inquired from
another, ‘ to buy these new and expensive varieties?’
and I would that every employer, that every one
who cares for the labouring poor, would remember
the answer, reflect, and act on it. ‘I’ll tell you,’
he said, ‘how I managed to buy ’em—by keeping
away from the hers/zaps ! ’

22 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

From a lady who lives near Nottingham, and
goes much among the poorer classes, I heard a far
more striking instance of this floral devotion than
from the florists themselves. While conversing with
the wife of a mechanic during the coldest period
of a recent winter, she observed that the parental
bed appeared to be scantily and insufficiently
clothed, and she inquired if there were no more

blankets in the house. ‘ Yes, ma’am, we’ve another,’

 

replied the housewife; ‘ but and here she
paused.

‘ But what?’ said the lady.

‘ It is not at home, ma’am.’

‘ Surely, surely it’s not in pawn?’

‘Oh dear no, ma’am; Tom has only just took it

—just took it

 

‘ Well, Bessie, took it where?’

‘Plcase, ma’am, he took it—took it—took it to
keep the frost out of the greenhouse; and please,
ma’am, we don't want it, and we’re quite hot in
bed.’

They ought to be presented with a golden
warming-pan, set with brilliants, and filled with
fifty-pound Bank of England notes.

I took my leave of the brotherhood at last,
delighted with their gardens and delighted with
them, but not much delighted with myself. I

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 23

seemed to have been presiding as Lord Chief-
Justice in a court, wherein, had merit regulated the
appointments, I should most probably have dis-
charged the duties of usher. I had been enthroned
as Grand Master of a Rosicrucian Lodge, when
I ought to have been standing at the door as
tyler; and as I carried away a glorious bouquet
of Roses, with their ‘best respects to the Missusf
I felt ashamed to think how little I had done, and
how much more such men would do, with my
larger leisure and more abundant means. But when
I reached the station and entered my carriage, I
was roused from my reverie by a loud and prolonged
‘OH!’ which greeted me from five of my acquaint—
ances, as though I had been an asteroid rocket
which had just burst, and the Roses were my
coruscant stars: and I was beginning to regain my
self-complacency, and to find solace in the remark
of one of my neighbours, who, I knew, had glass
by the acre, and gardeners in troops, that “they
were the first Roses he had seen this year,’ when

I was again discomfited by the insolent behaviour

 

of the company on this wise. To an inquiry from
what garden the Roses came, I responded, in all
truthfulness, ‘Chiefly from a bricklayer’s.’ VVhere-
upon an expressive sneer of unbelief disfigured each

stolid countenance; and a solemn silence ensued,

24 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

which said, nevertheless, as plainly as though it
were shouted, ‘We don’t see any wit in lies.’ I
collapsed at once into my corner, sulking behind
my big bouquet, and looking, I fear, very like the
Beast when he first showed himself among the
Roses to Beauty; nor did I quite regain my
equanimity until, reaching home, I had written
and posted an order for an assortment of Roses
in pots.

These Nottingham florists are equally successful
in the outdoor culture of the Rose. On several
occasions I have attended, as one of the judges, the
annual exhibition of ‘ The St. Ann’s Amateur Floral
and Horticultural Society,’ at Nottingham. The
Society consists of artisans, occupying garden allot-
ments in the suburbs of Nottingham, and justly
prides itself on having developed a taste for garden-
ing among the working-classes. Nearly eighty
prizes for Roses alone, varying in value from two
guineas to two shillings, are offered, and closely
fought for. The Roses are excellent, the interest
and excitement of the exhibitors intense. The
winners (so I was told by their president, Mr.
Knight, well chosen to preside over working-men,
for he is ever untiring and ubiquitous) are twist-
hands, shoemaker-s, tailors, mechanics, etc. He told

me, am aware, of their devotion to their gardens

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 25

and their glass: how they carry their bags of coal
through the deep snow, and how, early in the
morning and late at eventide, they rob themselves
of rest for the Rose.

I rejoice to see and hear. I have always believed
that the happiness of mankind may be increased
by encouraging that love of a garden, that love of
the beautiful, which is innate in us all. Get a man
out of the dram and beer shops into the fresh pure
air, interest him in the marvellous works of his
God, instead of in the deformities of vice, give him
an occupation which will add to his health and
the comforts of his family, instead of destroying
both, then build Revealed upon Natural Religion,
and hope to see him a Christian.

In one of the most genial and gratifying notices
with which this book has been favoured, the Satur-
day Reviewer gladdencd my heart, confirmed my
belief, and stimulated my endeavours, by endorsing
these my views on the subject. From this love of
flowers, he writes, ‘may be learned the road, diffi-
cult to find in these days, to the inner heart of the
lower classes—the key to tastes, dearer to them
than beer-swilling—the secret, which, if rightly
applied by those who bear spiritual rule over the
working-man, may do much directly to civilise, and

indirectly to Christianise him.’

26 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

There are difficulties, of course, in this as in all
good works. There are difficulties with regard to
cottage-gardening, even in those villages where
priest and squire co-operate heartily, and these
difficulties are multiplied where men are thick upon
the ground, and where at present little interest is
taken in the matter, either by the clergy or the
rich. These difficulties come from the temptations
incidental to the annual show; and the annual
show is, according to my experience, a necessity.
Emulation is the stimulus, with which we cannot
dispense. My lord won’t ride his best hunter over
a nasty brook, when nobody is there to see; and
Bill Smith won't dig and delve after work-hours,
if no one is to admire his big potatoes. Large
and lovely is the rhubarb of Jones, but never so
large, never so lovely, as when it rests beside the
rhubarb of Robinson, having won the premier prize.
,Alasl to win premier prizes men are tempted to
be dishonest, and they fall. ‘If you please, sir,
Bob Filch went a-cadging miles and miles for them
cut flowers as won last show.’ ‘Lor’ bless your
reverence, I knows for a fact that Jim A gave Jack
B one-and-nine for that Senateur Vaisse in his six.’
And his reverence, moreover, knows for fact, that
Roses have not only been begged and bought, but

stolen, just before a show. His reverence could name

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 27

some of his Nottingham friends who have slept in
their greenhouses, fearing a raid, for nights before
the. contest came. This very Society of St. Ann
has a sub—committee to inspect the gardens of
exhibitors, and to prevent imposture. Discouraging
facts! But so it is discouraging to note certain
infirmities of slothfulness, selfishness, and ignorance
in our daily life; and when we have made ourselves
just such Christian gentlemen as we ought to be,
let us be severe with our fellow—men. In the interim,
suppose we try the experiment of winning them by
kindness and love. Suppose we try to convince
them that a public-house is not the only place for
a flower-show, that tents and schoolrooms are avail-
able for the purpose, and that it is possible to spend
a happy day without degradation at night, and sick—
ness to follow in the morning.

It is high time, however, to leave this digression,
and to repeat, that whatever may be the infirmities
of these poor florists, they are eminently successful
in the culture of flowers; and indeed it would be
easy to multiply proofs that in Rose—growing, as
in everything else, earnestness and industry, born
of love,

‘ Di tutte 1e arti maestro é amore,’
must achieve success. At a flower—show which took
place annually at Oundle, and at which I frequently

28 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

acted as one of the judges,1 a chief hero of former
days was a Northamptonshire butcher, Thorneycroft
of Floore. He told me that by rising early, some-
times at 3 A.M., and by working late, he not only
carried on an extensive trade, but found time to put
up three glass-houses of his own handiwork; and
that, in addition to his plants, fruits, and vegetables,
he had in cultivation several thousand Rose-trees,
most of which he had budded, and all of which he had
pruned and cared for likewise with his own hands.
From his houses he showed beautiful seedling
Gloxinias, which won first prizes and special com-
mendations; obtained prizes for specimen plants of
recent introduction, as well as for those of a more
ordinary kind; while from his Rose-garden he
brought collections which often took first and
second honours, and were always meritorious.
Ascending some rungs of the social scald, passing
from the bluecoat school of Rosists to the black,
we floral ecclesiastics may congratulate ourselves,
thankfully and happily, upon our status in the world
of Roses. And here again, 110w often will the poor

curate, with something more than a good gardener’s

1 On one of these occasions some very pretty collections were shown,
not only of wild-flowers, but of wild ferns and grasses. In three of
the latter, exhibited by children of one family, 1 observed asparagus;
and upon my saying to the exhibitors that this was not contemplated by
the schedule, my ignorance was at once cnlightcned,-—‘l’lease, sir, it
says ferns and grasses, and this is sparrow grass.’

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 29

wages, and something less than a good gardener’s
house, show what earnest love can do! Whenever
I see at an exhibition a white tie behind a box of
Roses, I know (although I may in days of youth-
ful exuberance have irreverently exclaimed to my
clerical friends, ‘Hollo, Butler! are you bringing
breakfast?’)—I know that, almost as a rule, bright
gems shine within that case. And who but he can
tell the refreshment, the rest, the peace, which he
finds in his little garden, coming home from the
sick and the sorrowful, and here reminded that for
them and him there is an Eden, more beautiful
than the first, a garden where summer shall never
cease!

Here I would ask permission to digress briefly,
that I may confirm a very interesting statement.
which was made after a florist dinner at Leicester1
by the editor of The Gardener, and received with
hearty acclamations. He had been told, he said,
by a Scotch clergyman, that in his visitations from
house to house he had never met with an ungenial
reception where he had seen a plant in the window.
It was a promise of welcome; it was a sign that
there dwelt within a love and yearning for the
beautiful; it was an invitation for the sower to

sow. What tender memories, solaces, and hopes

1 During the Provincial Show of the Royal Horticultural Society.

30 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

may be brought into darkened homes by the
brightness and the sweetness of flowers!

‘ The weary woman stays her task,
That perfume to inhale;
The pale-faced children pause to ask
What breath is on the gale.

‘ And none that breathe that sweetened air,
But have a gentle thought;
A gleam of something good and fair
Across the spirit brought.’
Would that these inmates of alley and court, would
that these weary men and women, with their pale—
faced children, might breathe that sweetened air,
and see that gleam more oft!1
All honour to the owners of park and pleasaunce
who admit them therein, and to employers who
give them holidays to go! Well does our great

poet plead,—
‘ \Vhy should not these great Sirs
Give up their parks a dozen times a year,
To let the people breathe?’

Why should there not be great public gardens, and
great public flower-shows, in or near all our towns?
When the Council of the Manchester Botanical
Society, advised by their clever, energetic curator,

1 A friend of mine, a lady, who is much among the poor in the
east of London, took a bunch of primroses lo a miserable attic, and
placed it on the tahle. The woman, who occupied the room, gazed
for a moment at the flowers, and then, overpowered by the memory
of happier, purer days, she burst into tears !

 

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 31

Mr. Bruce Findlay, offered £1000 in prizes at their
June Show, men shook empty heads, and murmured
‘Madness.’ What was the result? The receipts
one Whitsuntide exceeded sixteen hundred pounds;
and of Mir, Eleven Hundred was paid by 1/26 war/zing-
classes in shillings !

And all honour to such men as George Peabody,
the American merchant, who ‘with more than
princely munificence’ (as the Queen of England
wrote), ‘bestowed more than a million and a half
of money to promote education and to relieve
poverty, including, for the latter purpose, eighteen
groups of commodious and healthful homes for
the working—classes in various parts of the city of
London. I was present at an exhibition of window
plants, held in Dean’s Yard, Westminster, and I
noticed that a large proportion of the prizes were
won by the tenants of ‘Peabody’s Buildings.’ Life,
vegetable or human, dwindles and collapses in
polluted air; and as the plant is defiled by dirt
and devoured by vermin, so is the man enfeebled
by disease and degraded by vice. How can you
expect (asked Lord Derby, known as ‘the Rupert of
Debate’) those who live in an atmosphere which
would kill an oak, to abstain from stimulants. And
therefore there can be no truer philanthropists, no

wiser statesmen, than those who would recover

32 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

and maintain for the poor those precious gifts of
pure air, pure light, and pure water, which God
designs for us all.

It is gratifying to notice an increase of practical
effort in this benevolent endeavour, in the building
of better homes, in the increase of allotments near
to our cities and towns, and in the encouragement of
cottage-gardening.

I may mention here, that for some years I tried
satisfactorily to promote among the children of my
parish that love of flowers which we find in them
all, not only by giving prizes for their collections
of wild—flowers at our annual show, but by taking
them walks on Sunday evenings, and helping them
to collect and arrange their posies, teaching them
names, habits, and uses, and showing them the
coloured likenesses and the histories, which are
provided in a cheap form by the Society for Pro-
moting Christian Knowledge, and in other illustrated
manuals.

A happy result of these wanderings by the brook-
side, in the valleys, and the woods, gladdened my
heart and my eyes, when waiting for a train at
one of our great Northern Stations, I met among
those employed therein one of my old village pupils,
and he invited me to visit his home. \Ve came

to the end of a long street, in which every dwelling

   

 

 

CAUSES OF SUCCESS 33

was of an uniform size and shape. ‘Now, sir,’
asked my companion, ‘can you tell which is my
house?’ ‘Oh, yes, Joe,’ I replied, ‘that with the
creeper, at the other end of the row.’ ‘All right,’
he said, ‘I have always been fond of flowers since
you took us boys among the primroses, and violets,
and cowslips, the honeysuckles, and the roses, in

Caunton lanes and fields.’

(‘1

CHAPTER III
OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY

HAVING proved, as I hope, that there is no royal
road, no golden key, to an excellent Rose-garden,
but that a poor man, on the contrary, who loves
the flower, may walk about in March with a Rose
in his coat—while Dives, who only likes, may be
Roseless under all his vitreous domes,——I will pro-
ceed now to instruct those who, having this love,
desire instruction, in the lessons which a long and
happy experience has taught to me.

And yet, before I commence my lecture, I would
fain enlarge the number of disciples: I would
multiply the competitors by exhibiting the prizes,
and would so extol the charms of our Queen of
Beauty, that all brave knights, gallantly armed,
should leap upon their steeds for the lists. In
more homely and modern metaphor, I would exhibit
to him whom I propose to make a fisherman, his
fish. I would take him, as it were, to the broad

rivers, from which silvery salmon leap, or peep
34

 

 

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 35

with him stealthily through brookside bushes at
the dark, still, 34b. trout. Then, when his eyes
glisten and his fingers itch for a rod, I would teach
him how to throw and spin; and would say to
him, as old Izaak said, ‘ I am like to have a towardly
scholar of you. I now see that with advice and
practice you will make an angler in a short time.
Have but a love of ii, and I’ll warrant you.’

I will essay, therefore, while I enumerate and
extol the special charms of the Rose, to convince
all florists wily, before I proceed to demonstrate
lzow, they should admire and honour pre—eminently
the Queen of Flowers.

First of all, because she is Queen. There is no
Fenian, no Nihilist, in her realm, but her monarchy
is the most absolute, and her throne the most ancient
and the most secure of all, because founded in her
people’s heart. Her supremacy has been acknow—
ledged, like Truth itself, semper, unique, (:5 omnibus—
always, everywhere, by all.

I. Sempen—When, in sacred history, a chief
prophet of the Older Covenant foretold the grace
and glory which were to be revealed by the New
—when Isaiah would select, and was inspired to
select, the most beautiful image by which to tell
mankind of their exodus from the Law to the

Gospel, slavery to freedom, fear to love—these were

36 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

the words which came to him from heaven, ‘The
wilderness shall blossom as a Rose.’ In the Song
of Songs the Church compares herself unto ‘the
Rose Of Sharon’; and in the apocryphal scriptures
the son of Sirach likens wisdom to a Rose-plant
in Jericho, and holiness to a Rose growing by the
brook of the field. And the Rose still blooms on
that sacred soil, even in that garden of Gethsemane,
where HE, who gives joy and life to all, was sorrowful
unto death.1 In our own, as in the Older time, it
is associated with religion, with acts and thoughts
Of holiness which should be fair and pure and
fragrant as itself; and at the Orphanage of Beyrout,
the authoress of ‘Cradle Lands’ saw two hundred
and fifty maidens receive their first communion with
wreaths Of white Roses on their heads.2

Passing from sacred to secular records, shall I
take down my Greek Lexicons, my Scott and
Liddell, Donnegan the fat and Hederic the slim,
my Dictionaries, Indices, and Gradus ad Parnassum?
Shall I look out poBov and row, collect a few quota-
tions, dress up a few incidents, and then try to
convince my readers that I know every word which

classic authors have written anent the Rose? Shall

I ‘The Old man, a Franciscan monk, gave me a Rose as a
memorial of the garden.’—-—Bartlett’s ‘Jerusalem Revisited,’ p. 129.

2 Syria, according to some writers, took its name from Suri, a
species of Rese indigenous to it.

 

_: “ha"

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 37

I, having just discovered some sentence bearing on
my theme, and having hardly translated it (lame
and broken-winded is the Pegasus now, which once
cantered in Oxford riding—schools and jumped with
a mighty effort, and a wily tutor Whipping behind,
the statutory bars)——-shall I proudly display my
electro-plate, and commence magniloquent passages
with—‘ the educated reader will of course remember,’
and ‘every schoolboy knows’?———No; I promised
to write sans e’tude, and much more sans humbug
also; and it will suffice to say, without dictionaries
or high-falutenation, that the classical writers, from
Homer to Horace, extol above all other flowers
the Rose. To the fairest of their goddesses, to
Venus, they dedicated this the fairest of their
flowers; and the highest praise which they could
offer to beauty, was to assert its resemblance to the
Rose. Aurora had rosy fingers; I always thought
of her at school, and envied her as of one who
had been among the strawberries: and beautiful
Helen, with whom the world was in love (there
must generally have been between forty and fifty
distinguished princes, with Ulysses, who ought to
have known better, at their head, loafing about the
mansion of Papa Tyndarus)—Helen, fair and frail,
row mzma’z' 72072 rosa muna’a, had, we are told,

cheeks like a Rose, though not perhaps a blush

38 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

one. Other belles of the past had—so Anacreon,
Theocritus, and the poets generally inform us—
rosy arms, rosy necks, rosy feet, and—delicacy
forbids me to translate 0030K0M'0s and p0507rv709-
‘Burning Sappho’—it would have been more
gentlemanly, I think, if Byron had called her
gushing—crowned the Rose, Queen of Flowers,
being herself, according to Meleager, the Rose of
Poesy; and her readers crowned themselves with
the Rose (one can’t help wondering whether the
nimble earwig ever ran down their Grecian noses),
and vied with each other, at their banquets, E’WMTWEW
'Tovs Bpom'ovs, to astonish the Browns, with Roses.
There was a flower-market at Athens, as in Covent
Garden now, where the young swells bought for
the Honourable Miss Rhodanthe and for the Lady
Rhodopis bouquets of the blushing Rose; and then,
as now, he who would not or could not speak
boldly to the maid of Athens,

Zdn} ,uofi, ads dyamfi,
declared his love by these—

‘ Token flowers that tell ‘

What words can never speak so well.
Rome, succeeding Greece in greatness, copying its
customs, and lighting her Roman candles from Greek

'fire, showed an equal fondness for the Rose. Romans

 

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 39

of wealth and Romans of taste were as anxious as
Horace,

‘ Neu desint epulis rosa ;’1

and when the Rose-trees of Paestum had finished
their autumnal bloom, they were succeeded by
flowers artificially produced by means of hot water.
Cleopatra, according to Athenaeus, had the floor
covered with them a foot and a half in thickness;
and Nero is said to have expended at one feast
nearly :6 30,000 in Roses—a nice little order for his
nurseryman. In their joys and in their sorrows the
Rose was their favourite flower, and the Corona con-
vz'vz'alz's, the Corona nuptialz's , and the Corona fzmeorz's,
were wreathed alike from the Rose. They made wine
from Roses, conserves from Roses, perfumes,2 oil, and
medicine from Roses. The Rosa cam'aa took its
name, it is said, like the va0p08ou of a the Greeks,
from its supposed .power to cure hydrophobia;
and they used it, finally, in the embalming of

1 Sir Walter Scott, in one of his notes to ‘ Guy Mannering,’ states
that the metaphysical and philosophical Scotch judge, Lord Monboddo,
in his enthusiasm for classical habits, used to give entertainments in St
John’s Street, Canongate, at which there was a circulation of excellent
Bourdeaux in flasks, garlanded with roses, which were also strewed on
the table after the manner of Horace.

2 The historians of perfumery tell us that the Rose was the first
flower from which perfume was made, and that Avicenna, an illustrious
Arabian doctor, who discovered the art of extracting the perfume of
flowers by distillation, made his first experiment upon Rosa centz'folz'a,
and so invented Rose-water

40 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

their dead, and in adorning the tombs of their
heroes, then, as now, associated with human

sorrow and joy.

‘ How much of memory dwells amidst thy bloom,
Rose ! ever wearing beauty for thy dower !
The bridal day, the festival, the tomb,
Thou hast thy part in each, thou stateliest flower ! ’

Such are my slender memories of classical allusion
to the Rose; but I do not lament this scantiness,
because ‘I have no opinion,’ as Mr Lillyvick re-
marked concerning the French language, of Greek
or Roman floriculture. It was the only art in which
these nations did not excel. We know'nothing of
Greek gardening, and that which we know of Roman
is a disappointment. The arrangement was formal
and monotonous. They had ‘come to build stately,
but not to garden finely’: and upon terraces and
under colonnades, around bathrooms and statue
groups, they placed horrible mutilations of evergreen
shrubs, hacked by a diabolical process, which they
called the Ar: 'lh/v'arz'a, into figures of fishes and
beasts and fowls, such as our own forefathers once
rejoiced in, under the system of gardening surnamed
the Dutch. The Roman gardener was actually called
Topzizrz'zts; and this terrible tree-barber went proudly
round his arboric menagerie with the trenchant shears,

pointing snouts, docking tails, and gaily disfiguring

 

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 41

the face of nature, with the pleased demeanour of
some cheerful savage cleverly tattooing his dearest
friend. And history, repeating itself, tells us, through
Mr Pope in lee Guardian, how an eminent cook
beautified his country-seat with a coronation dinner
done in evergreens, the Champion flourishing in
hornbeam at one end of the table, and the Queen in
perpetual yew at the other. ‘But I, for my part,’
writes Lord Bacon, ‘do not like to see images cut'
out in junipers and other garden stuff: they be for
children.’ 1

It is, however, enough to have shown that although
the floral light of these Greeks and Romans was dim
and feeble, it revealed to them the supreme beauty of
the Rose; and we shall find, as we pass down the
highways of history from their times to our own, that
against this Royal supremacy no voice has been ever
raised. It has been reverently acknowledged always;
but its great champions and laureates have been
found, of course, among the poets—among those who
love beauty most, and in whose hearts a love of the
beautiful rings the ‘manifold soft chimes’ of song.
In all lands and languages they have sung the Rose,

and in none with sweeter service than our own.

1 The Japanese are experts in the training of Pines, and we have in
Mr James Herbert Veitch’s charming book, “A Traveller’s Notes,”
the photograph of a marvellous specimen of their art—a tree represent-
ing a sailing junk, of which the hull is 35 feet in length !

42 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

From Spenser to Tennyson there is no great English
chorister who has not loved and lauded her. I have
pages of extracts in my commonplace—book, but they
are, I doubt not, familiar to most of my readers, and
the assertion which I have made asks no further
proof.

The excellent beauty of the Rose has not only
been appreciated in all times (567121767), but in all
climes.

2. sz‘gue.‘—-Born in the East, it has been diffused,
like the sunlight, over all the world. A flower, writes
Pliny, known to all nations equally with wine, myrtle,
and oil. It is found in every quarter of the globe-
on glaciers, in deserts, on mountains, in marshes, in
forests, in valleys, on plains, and on the sands of the
sea. The Esquimaux, as Boitard tells us in his
interesting ‘Monographie de la Rose,’ adorn their
hair and their raiment of deer and seal skin with the

beautiful blossoms of the Rom 7zz'z‘z'a’a, which grows

1 I cannot write this word without recording an anecdote, which has
not, I believe, been published, but which well deserves to be. It was
told to me by an artillery officer, that a gentleman, dining at the mess,
\Voolwieh, mistook the Latin trisyllahle Uhique on the regimental
plate for a French dissyllable, and delighted the company by exclaim—
ing, ‘Uhique! Where’s Ubique‘?—never heard of that battle!’ A
very similar question was put to myself, showing to a young friend,
among some old curiosities, a medal which had been given to my
grandfather at school, and on which were engraved his initials, the
(late, and the word ‘rllcrc'IIL/z"—‘ Mercnti !’ he exclaimed, ‘how one
forgets history !’ (he might have said grammar also), ‘ 701101 was that .9 ’

 

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 43

abundantly under their stunted shrubs. The creoles
of Georgia twine the white flowers of Rosa [wt/gram
among their sable locks, plucking them from the
lower branches of climbing plants, which attach
themselves to the garden trees of the forest, and
bloom profusely on their holes and boughs. The
parched shores of the Gulf of Bengal are covered
during the spring with a beautiful white Rose, found
also in_China and Nepaul; while in vast thickets of
the beautiful Rosa semperw'rms (a native also of
China) the tigers of Bengal and the crocodiles of the
Ganges are known to lie in wait for their prey. The
north—west of Asia, which has been called the father-
land of the Rose, introduces to our notice the Rom
ceizlgfolz'a, the most esteemed and renowned of all,
with which the fair Georgians and Circassians
enhance their fairness. And yet in the coldest
regions—for nature is ever bountiful as beautiful,
and that merciful power which makes the wheat to
grow everywhere for our food, sends also for our
delectation things pleasant to the eye—in Iceland
(1 wish to confess honourably that I am still filching
from Boitard), so sterile in vegetation that in some
parts the natives are compelled to feed their horses,
sheep, and oxen on dried fish, we find the Rom
7'itbzgz'7z05a, with its pale, solitary, cup-shaped flowers;

and in Lapland, blooming almost under the snows of

44 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

that severe climate, the natives, seeking mosses and
lichens for their reindeer, find the Rom 1/uy'alz's and R.
ruéclla, the former of which, brilliant in colour and of
a sweet perfume, enlivens the dreariness of Norway,
Denmark, and Sweden.

And I come home now, eagerly as a carrier-
pigeon to his native dovecot, to our own Rose-
gardens——eagerba because hem; and here onba can
our Queen be found in the full splendour of her royal
beauty. The Roses of all lands are here, but so
changed,so shengthened by chnufie,dkfi,and care
so refined by intermarriage with other noble families,
that they would no more be recognised by their
ldnsflflk at honurthan (findenflklzu the ban by
her sisters. The fairy, Cultivation, has touched
them with her wand, and the pale puny kitchen-
girl steps out of her dingy gingham a princess, in
velvet and precious paint, like some glowing
butterfly from his drab cocoon; or as when, at
the (Hrcus ‘Paddy fronl Cork’ drops suddenbr
hn; broken hat lus sht coat coarse breeks and
brogues, and 10! he is ‘\Vinged Mercury.’ They
cannq as zunbassadors to the queens court
savages ‘uufli noflnng (n1 but then‘inufityf then
luggage a peacock’s plume, and now they move
with a majestic dignity in gorgeous yet graceful

robes.

 

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 4;

Will you accompany me, my reader, to one of
Queen Rosa’s levees? They differ in some points
from Queen Victoria’s—as, for example, in these:
that the best time to attend them is at sunrise;
that you may go to them with dressing-gown and
slippers, or with shooting—coat and short pipe; that
the whole court will smile upon you according to
your loyalty, not according to your looks or your
income; and that all the beauty which you see will
be real—no false foliage, no somebody-else’s ringlets,
no rouge, no pastes, no powders, no perfumes but
their own.

Enter, then, the Rose-garden when the first sun-
shine sparkles in the dew, and enjoy with thankful
happiness one of the loveliest scenes of earth.
What a diversity, and yet what a harmony, of
colour! There are White Roses, Striped Roses,
Blush Roses, Pink Roses, Rose Roses, Carmine
Roses, Crimson Roses, Scarlet Roses, Vermilion
Roses, Maroon Roses, Purple Roses, Roses almost
Black, and Roses of a glowing Gold. What a
diversity, and yet what a harmony, of outline!
Dwarf Roses and climbing Roses, Roses closely
carpeting the ground, Roses that droop in snowy
foam like fountains, and Roses that stretch out
their branches upwards as though they would kiss
the sun; Roses ‘in shape no bigger than an agate-

46 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

stone on the fore-finger of an alderman,’ and Roses
five inches across; Roses in clusters, and Roses
blooming singly; Roses in bud, in their glory,
decline, and fall. And yet all these glowing
tints not only combine, but educe and enhance
each the other’s beauty. All these variations of
individual form and general outline blend with
a mutual grace. And over all this perfect unity
what a freshness, fragrance, purity, splendour!
They blush, they gleam amid their glossy

leaves, and

‘ Never sure, since high in Paradise,
By the four rivers, the first Roses blew,’

hath eye seen fairer sight. Linnaeus wept when
he came suddenly upon a wide expanse of golden
furze; and he is no true florist who has never felt
the springs of his heart troubled, surging, over-
flowing, as he looked on such a scene of beauty as
that which I so feebly describe. Such visions
seem at first too bright, too dazzling, for our
weakly sight: we are awed, and we shrink to feel
ourselves in a Divine presence; the spirit is
oppressed by a happiness which it is unworthy,
unable to apprehend, and it finds relief in tears.
It is such a feeling as one has, hearing for the

first time the Hallelujah Chorus sung by a thou-

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 47

sand voices, or seeing from ‘clear placid Leman’
the sunlight on Mont Blanc. ‘It is too wonderful
and excellent for me,’ we say; ‘it is more like
heaven than earth.’ Or, with Milton, we ask in

reverent wonder,—

‘What if earth
Be but the shadow of heaven, and things herein
Each to each other like, more than on earth is thought?’

and our prayers go up, as the incense from the
Rose, for purer eyes and hearts.

We have nothing in the whole range of floriculture
so completely charming as a Rosary in ‘the time
of Roses.’ A grower of most flowers, and a lover
of all, I know of none which can compete with
the Rose for colour, form, and fragrance, jointly,
whether en masse or in single blooms. ‘Orchids,’
do I hear? Well, I have stood before Lwlz'a
pmyfiumm and Cailleya [Wendelz' in an ecstasy of
admiration, until, the flower-show being crowded,
the police have requested me to move on. Not
long ago I lost half my dinner because my eyes
would wander from my plate to a Dendrobe (I
forget its title) some distance up the table; and
I appreciate generally with a fond delight the
delicacy, the refinement, the brilliancy of this
lovely class. It is the aristocracy, but not 2716

queen of the flowers. Regarding the two collectively,

43 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

there is never to be found in the orchid-house the
simultaneous splendour of the Rosary in July—
the abundant glistening foliage, the sweet perfume;
and comparing the individual flowers, which would
a lover take to his beloved—which would his darling,
herself

‘ A Rosebud set with little wilful thorns,
And sweet as English air can make her,’

osculate and pet the most?

And the stove, truly, is a gladncss and refreshment
——gay, when all without is bleak and dismal, with
the golden Allamanda, the rosy Dipladenia, so
truthfully termed amalzz'lz's, the bridal Stephanotis,
the brilliant Anthurium, the gorgeous Amaryllis,
the Bougainvillea, Eucharis, Franciscea, Gardenia,
Gloxinia, and many more; but what will you find
there like the Rose? Place Maréchal Niel by the
Allamanda, La France by the Dipladenia, a truss
of Madame Bravy by the Stephanotis, Charles
Lefebvre by the Amaryllis, and, like fair maids of
honour and beautiful ladies in waiting, these inmates
of the hothouse must bow before their Queen.

It is the same in the conservatory. The Camellia
is of faultless form, but it has not the grace, the
ease, the expression of the Rose. It is like a face
whereof every feature is perfect, but which lacks

the changing charms of feeling and intellect. It is

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 49

as the figure cast in a mould compared with that
which has been chiselled by the sculptor. Neither
has it the colours nor the scent. So with all other
greenhouse favourites; they are lovely—Azaleas,
Begonias, Pelargoniums, Ericas—«but not so lovely
as the Rose.

It is the same out of doors as under glass. The
gardens of Bagshot, where nightingales sing, and
Rhododendrons, Azaleas, and Kalmias bloom, are
sights to make an old man young; but they show
not to our eyes the brightness, the diversity of the
Rose’s hues, and for our noses they have com-
paratively nothing—though I do not forget the
fragrance of some of the more tender Rhododendrons,
nor the delicious spicy fragrance of the sweet little
Bap/me meorum.

Glorious, too, are the Dahlias of Slough, of every
hue, and in symmetry almost too severely perfect;
and yet, though the Dahlia may be ‘Queen of
Autumn,’ the Rose is the Queen of Flowers.

The tall, proud, stately, handsome Hollyhocks
must bow their high heads to the Rose; and the
Lilies, the lovely Lilies, from Japan and elsewhere,
which have come as beautiful strangers into our
gardens, to beautify them henceforth for ever—
for most of them are hardy, having due attention—

and to see them, amid our evergreens, holding up
D

50 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

their golden and jewelled cups to catch the soft
showers of June, is an ecstasy,—-these may stand
near, but may not mount, the throne. No, not even
in combination and alliance can all the flowers of
the garden compete with the Garden of Roses——
not the flowers of spring on Belvoir’s sunny slopes
(though there is no vision of beauty so beautiful
in all England at the time of their efflorescence),
not the summer splendours of Drumlanrig or beau-
tiful Hardwicke. Let the artistic ‘ bedder-out’ select
his colours from all the tribes and families of plants;
his blacks and bronzes and dark deep reds from
the Coleus, the Oxalis, Amaranthus, Iresine, and
Beet; his yellows from the Calceolaria, Marigold,
and Viola; his scarlets from the Pelargonium; his
purples, blues, and greys from the Verbena, the
Lobelia, and Ageratum; his whites from the
Cerastium, Centaurea, Santolina, Alyssum; let him
have all that flower and foliage, arranged by con~
summate taste, can do, he can never produce a
scene so fair, because he can never produce a scene
so natural, as he may have in a garden of Roses.
It may be more brilliant, more imposing, but there
will not be that perfect, graceful unity, of which
the eye wearies never. It is like a triumphant
march of organs, trumpets, and shawms, but the

ear cannot listen to it so long, so happily, as to

OUR QUEEN OF BEAUTY 51

some plaintive horn in the calm eventide, some
mellow ouzel fluting in the elm, or some sweet
simple song. The gorgeous dame of fashion, the
loud undaunted woman of the world, prismatic

’

brilliant, flaunting, glowing with a colour which,
though decidedly ‘fast,’ will no more endure soft
water than certain of our brightest ‘bedders’ will
endure a drenching rain—she, I say, may bewilder
the dazzled eye, and captivate the weaker brain;
but to the fresh, pure, gentle girl, whose blushes
cannot be bought in Bond Street—to her be given
St. Medard’s wreath, for she only wins the wise
man’s heart.

And the Rose, as it is admired, so may it be
grown by all.

3. A6 madam—Loved by all grades and ages,
from the little village child who wreathes it from
the hedgerow in his sister’s hair, to the princess
who holds it in her gemmed bozzguelz'er, so it may
be alike enjoyed in the labourer’s garden or in the
conservatory of the peer. Wherever it is loved,
there will it display its beauty; and the best Cloth—
of—Gold I ever saw was on a cottager’s wall. It
is adapted for every position, and for every pocket
too. The poorest may get his own Briers, and beg
a few buds from the rich; and men of moderate

means may make or maintain a Rosary at a very

52 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

moderate expense. There is nothing in floriculture
to be purchased and perpetuated so cheaply as a
garden of Roses. You may lay the foundationv
for a £5 note; and then, by budding and by
striking cuttings from your own trees, and by an
annual selection of a few additional and valuable
varieties, may in two or three seasons possess a
beautiful Rosarium.

I will now endeavour to tell, practically and

minutely, how this may be done.

CHAPTER IV
POSITION

WHERE, is now our question, shall the Rosary be?
In what part of our garden shall we find the best
situation, the most worthy site for a royal throne?
Some, indeed, have treated our Queen more as a
menial than as a monarch; they have sent Her
Majesty by lobbies and back—stairs into dismal
chambers which look down on bottle-racks, and to
attics where, through clattering casement, the wintry
winds blow chill. And this when they should have
uncovered their drawing-room damask and thoroughly
aired their best bed.

Some, having heard that a free circulation of air
and abundance of sunshine are essential elements
of success, select a spot which would be excellent
for a windmill, observatory, beacon, or Martello
tower; and there the poor Rose-trees stand, or,
more accurately speaking, wobble, with their leaves,
like King Lear’s silver locks, rudely blown and

drenched by the ‘to-and-fro contending wind and
53

54 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

rain. I have seen a garden of Roses—I mean a
collection of Roseless trees—in front of a ‘noble
mansion proudly placed upon a commanding‘emin-
ence,’ where, if you called upon a gusty day, the
wind blew the powder from the footman’s hair as
soon as he had opened the front door, and other
doors within volleycd and thundered a fan a’e joz'e
in honour of the coming guest.

Others, who had been told that the Rose loves
shelter, peace, repose, have found ‘such a dear snug
little spot,’ not only surrounded by dense evergreen
shrubs, but overshadowed by giant trees. Repose is
there, assuredly—rest for the Rose when its harassed
life is past, when it has nothing more for disease to
prey upon, no buds for the caterpillar, no foliage
for the aphis—the rest of a mausoleum ! You might
as well expect a canary to sing in a hat-box as a
Rose to blossom in this dreary dell. I was taken
not long ago to a cemetery of this description,
which had been recently laid out; and there was
such a confident expectation of praise in the pretty
face of the lady who took me, that I was sorely
puzzled how to express my feelings. I wished to
be kind, I wished to be truthful; and the result
was some such a dubious compliment as the Sultan
paid to the French pianist. The Frenchman, you

may remember, was a muscular arlz'sz‘ more remark-

POSITION 55

able for power than pathos; and he went at the
instrument, and shook and worried it as a terrier
goes in at rats. His exertions were sudorific; and
when he finished the struggle, with beads on his
brow, the Sultan told him, ‘that although he had
heard the most renowned performers of the age,
he had never met one who—perspired so freely!’
Nor could I, with my heart as full of charity’s milk
as a Cheshire dairy of the cow’s, think of any higher
praise of the plot before me than that it was an
admirable place for ferns; and therefore, when my
commentary was received with an expressive smile
of genteel disgust, as though I had suggested that
the allotment in question was 2713 site of all others
for a jail, or had said, as Carlyle said of the Royal
Garden at Potsdam, that ‘it was one of the finest
Fog-preserves in Europe,’ then, without further pre-
varications, I told the truth. And the truth is, that
this boundless contiguity of shade is fatal, and every
overhanging tree is fatal as an upas~tree to the
Rose. As Ireland has been said to be too near
a great country ever to achieve greatness for itself
(I do not myself attribute its humidity or its in-
dolence, its famines or its Fenianism, to the vicinity
of {'England), so the Rose, in close proximity to a
forest-tree, can never hope to thrive. In a twofold

sense it [takes umbrage; robbed above and robbed

56 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

below, robbed by branches of its sunshine, and by
roots of its soil, it sickens, droops, and dies. A
Rose under trees can no more flourish than a deer
can get a good ‘head’ who never leaves the forest
for the moor.

These regicides were none the less correctly told
——both those who kill by suffocation, and those who
starve our Queen to death—that the Rose must have
a free circulation of air, and likewise repose and rest.
The directions may seem to be incongruous, but
they can be, and must be, followed. The Rosarium
must be both exposed and sheltered; a place both
of sunshine and of shade. The centre must be clear
and open, around it the protecting screen. It must
be a fold wherein the sun shines warmly on the
sheep, and the wind is tempered to the shorn lamb;
a haven in which the soft breeze flutters the sail,
but over which the tempest roars, and against whose
piers the billow hurls itself, in vain.

And this may, I think, be taken consequently as
a golden rule in the formation of a Rose-garden:
so arrange it that a large proportion of your trees
may have the sunshine on them from its rise to the
meridian, and after that time be in shadow and in
repose. To effect this, the garden must extend in
longitude from north to south rather than from east

to west—the form being oblong or semicircular.

 

POSITION 57

The western wall or fence should be high, from
8 to 10 feet; the northern tall and dense, but not
necessarily so high as the western; the eastern such
as will keep out cold, cutting winds, but not one
ray of sunshine—say 5 feet. To the south the
Rosary may be open; but even here, so hurtful is
a rough wind which occasionally blows from this
quarter, that I prefer some slight protective screen,
such as a low bank or bed.

Of what material should we make the higher
boundary fences? This is a question of time and
of outlay. Walls are built at once, and are soon
beautifully covered with climbing Roses, such as
Gloire de Dijon and her daughters Madame Berard,
Réve d’Or, Reine Marie Henriette, and with William
Allen Richardson, L’Idéal, Blairii 2, Charles Lawson,
Ulrich Brunner, Duke of Edinburgh, Fortune’s
Yellow, the Banksian (the latter two on a west or
south aspect), and the Sempervirens and Ayrshire
Rose; but evergreen hedges of Yew, Holly, American
Arborvitae, Berberis, Privet, and Hornbeam, are an
admirable contrast to the glowing colours of the
Rose, and introduce the air, like respirators, subdued
and softened, into the Rosarium. But why not
' hedges of the Rose itself, such as we see in France?
Might we not have hedges of the common Brier,
and bud them with our choicest varieties? Might

58 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

we not make hedges of the Ayrshire, Sempervirens,
Boursault, Japanese, and Sweetbricr Rose? ‘1 have
had a hedge of Rosa w'llosa these twenty years,’
writes Mr. Robertson, :1 nurseryman at Kilkenny,
in 1834, ‘about 8 or 10 feet high, which is a sheet
of bloom every May, and throughout the rest of the
season flowers with the Boursault, Noisette, Hybrid
China, and other Roses which are budded on it.’
‘At the Isle of Bourbon,’ writes Mr. Rivers, quoting
Monsieur Breon, in the ‘Rose Amateurs’ Guide,’
‘the inhabitants generally enclose their land with
hedges made of two rows of Roses—one row of the
Common China Rose, the other of the Red Four
Seasons.’ And in the Gardclzcrs’ Chronicle of June
I9, 1869, we have the description of a hedge of
Roses, grown at Digswell, Hertfordshire, 280 feet
in length.

Catullus, in one beautiful line, describes the benign
and gracious influences which we should seek to

obtain for the Rose. He writes of a flower,
‘ Quem mulcent aura‘, firmat sol, educat imber,’

to which the air nimbly and sweetly recommends
itself, bringing the complexion of beauty, but not
visiting the cheek too roughly, which the sun
strengthens but does not scorch, which the shower

refreshes but the tempest spares. Such a genial

 

 

ROSE Hmmx: IN Tm: DEANERY GARDEN, ROCHESTER.

€
‘ t
“h
r
c
2.

514.9“,

 

POSITION 59

home we must find, or make, for our Roses, wherein
we may see them in a serene and placid loveliness,
what time their unprotected sisters are withering
beneath burning suns, and may admire their ample
and glossy foliage when, in exposed and unfenced
ground, the furious wind seems almost to blow out
the very sap from the shimmering, shivering leaves.
Transitory, almost ephemeral, is ‘a Rose’s brief life
of joy,’
76 [306011 dkpdi’a fiatéu xpéuou,—

and there comes a broiling day towards the end of
June, when the Rose, unshaded, is burnt to tinder,
and the petals of that magnificent Charles Lefebvre,
which was intended for next day’s show, crumble as
we touch, and are as the parsley which accompanies
the hot rzirsole. Or there comes a gusty day, and lo !
that lovely bloom which was perfect just now in tint
and symmetry, is chafed, discoloured, deformed, for
want of a guardian screen. I know that in the one
case something may be done by the use of those
florumbras and metallic hats of which I shall have
more to say when I speak of Roses for exhibition
—-and that in the other, strong stakes, secure tying,
and low stature will do much to save; but in both
instances a natural shelter and a natural shade are far
more reliable aids—far more conducive to the beauty

and endurance of the Rose.

60 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

‘Cease firing,’ I hear it said; ‘you are shooting
over your target, and wasting powder and ball. You
are talking of walls and hedges and banks—of
crescents and parallelograms, as though all your
.readers had the wealth and the acres of Lord
Carabbas. You are sermonising above your con-
gregation—at all events, enjoining precepts which
they are unable to perform. You are writing for
the few, and not, as you promised, for the many.’
But this, I must plead, is as unjust an accusation
of exclusiveness as was brought against a clerical
neighbour and friend of mine, a good and gentle
pastor, by one of his flock, on this wise. He had
been preaching, he told me, a simple discourse on
the duties and privileges of a Churchman, and he
was leaving the porch after his people, when an
old man, not aware of his proximity, turned to
another veteran, as they hobbled out of the church
together, and said, ‘Well, Tommy, my lad, thou sees
there’s no salvation for nobbody but him and a few
partickler friends!’ He had preached, nevertheless,
as I would fain write, without respecting persons, the
truth for all. If I have any special sympathy, it is
certainly with the poorer portion of our brotherhood ;
and as I have passed through all the grades of Rose-
growing, commencing with a dozen only (nay, I well

remember t/ze Rose which first won my allegiance,

POSITION 61

D’Aguesseau Gallica, as a man remembers the first
love-smile of his heart’s queen), and gradually in—
creased to my maximum of 5000 (maximum, do I
say? trap n’esz‘ fa: assez; and if I had N ottingham-
shire full of Roses, I should desire Derbyshire for a
budding ground), I can identify myself with Rose-
growers of all denominations, and with Rose-gardens
of every shape and size.

And the directions which I have offered apply
equally to the small as to the larger Rosary—*expose
to the morning’s sunshine, protect from cutting wind.
Give the best place in your garden to the flower
which deserves it most. In the smallest plot, you
may make, if you do not find, such a site as I have
described. You will make. it, if you are in earnest.
I have seen old boards, old staves (reminding one of
the time when the Bordeaux casks made fences
commonly in English gardens), old sacking, torn
old tarpaulins—yes, once an old black serge petti-
coat—set up by the poor to protect the Rose; and
there I have ever seen her smiling upon Love,
however mean its offering, and rewarding its un-
tiring service.

For the flirt, for the faint-hearted, for the coxcomb,
who thinks that upon his first sentimental sigh she
will rush into his arms and weep, she has nothing

but sublime disdain.

62 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Of this, and before I speak upon Soil, let me
submit an illustration.

Not many summers since, three individuals, of
whom I was one, were conversing in a country home.
One of my companions was about to succeed the
other as tenant of the house in which we were met,
and was making anxious inquiry about the garden
in general, and concerning Roses in particular.
‘Oh!’ said our host, ‘the place is much too
exposed for Roses. No man in the world is fonder
of them than I am, and I have tried all means, and
spared no expense; but it is simply hopeless.’
‘jllust [awe Rosa‘s,’ was the quiet commentary of
the newcomer; and two years afterwards I met
him at the local flower-show, the winner of a first
prize for twelve. ‘My predecessor,’ he said, ‘was
no more the enthusiast which he professed to be
about Roses, than that Quaker was an enthusiastic
almsgiver who had felt so much for his afflicted
friend but had not felt in his pocket. The pleasure-
grounds, it is true, are too bleak for prize blooms, but
in the large, half-cultivated kitchen-garden, I found
the most delightful corner, with an eastern aspect;
put in one hundred Briers; budded them last summer;
manured them abundantly this ; and am now, between
ourselves, and m!) 70:13, in such a bumptious con-
dition, that you’d think I’d made the Roses myself.’

POSITION - 63

There is, alas! one locality, beneath that dark
canopy of smoke which hangs over and around
our large cities and manufacturing towns, wherein
it is not possible to grow the Rose in its glory;
and many a time as I have stood in the pure air
and sunshine among my own beautiful flowers, I
have felt a most true and sorrowful sympathy for
those who, loving the Rose as fondly as I do, are
unable to realise its perfect beauty. Well, no man
can have his earthly happiness just in the way he
wills; but every man, as a rule, has his equal share,
and these men, I doubt not, have other successes as
solace and compensation. Nay, are not their Roses,
which we, more favoured, should regard as disappoint-
ments, successes to them, great and gratifying? If
Mr. Shirley Hibberd, once the champion and teacher
of urban and oppidan amateurs, could grow good
Roses within four miles of the General Post-Office
—and I have seen the proofs of his skill and per—
severance at one of the great London Rose-shows,
to my high surprise and delectation—it is quite
certain that he would have been mtl/z' secuna’us with
the full advantage of situation and soil. Nor do I
hesitate to say that the collection to which I refer,
necessarily less perfect than those around it in
colour and in size, seemed to me the most honour—
able of all.

64 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

What can I offer besides the hand of friendship
and the praise of an old Rosarian to these brave
brethren of the Rose? The most robust varieties
must be planted in the best place, and in the best
soil available, avoiding drip and roots. They must
be manured in the winter and mulched in the spring.
In the summer months let them be well watered
below and well syringcd allow two or three times a
week. Let grubs and aphides be removed, and
sulphur, or soot, or soap-and-water, applied as soon
as mildew shows itself. I am now resident close
by the main street of the city of Rochester, in
proximity to countless chimneys, long and short,
polluting the atmosphere, discolouring the flowers,
and accompanied from time to time by an offensive
odour of cement. The soil of my garden is a light
loam, distant from one to three feet from a stratum
of chalk. Nevertheless, by a selection of the fittest,
such as lVIrs John Laing, Ulrich, Brunner, and Gloire
de Dijon, by watchful observation, careful pruning,
protection from frost, and a generous supply of
manure, I succeed in producing an abundance of
beautiful Roses though, I need hardly say, ‘not for

exhibition.’

CHAPTER V
SOILS

‘WHAT a constitution must that air and soil of
Herefordshire give the Rose!’ So wrote Dr.
Lindley, praising the beautiful blooms which Mr.
Cranston brought from the King’s Acre, by Hereford
city, to the first grand National Rose Show. And
we aliens read with envy. Rivers, and the Pauls,
and Lane, and Francis, gazed sorrowfully a while
on the t in Hertfordshire; from Sussex, so it seemed
to Messrs. Wood and Mitchell, all success had fled;
‘ So much for Buckingham,’ sighed Mr. Turner, from
the slough of his deep deSpair; in Wiltshire, even
Keynes, the stout-hearted, looked ruefully for a
moment on his fair garden as though it had been
Salisbury Plain; in Essex, Mr. Cant of Colchester
was mute as one of its Oysters; and as these great
leaders of Queen Rosa’s armies were seized with a
brief despair, we privates and non-commissioned
officers were not what we should have been with

regard to knees, and felt a sudden conviction that
65 E

66 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

the time had come when we ought to retire from the
service. That gust, which caused the light to flicker
in our grand chandeliers and lamps, all but blew out
for ever our rush-lights and farthing dips.

It was but a gust and a surprise. ‘It was a
moment’s fantasy, and as such it has passed.’ Those
generals, whose eyes blinked for a second as they
read of the superior powers of Hereford, have since
won glorious victories, each for his shire.

There are no duties upon sunshine, there are no
monopolies in air; and there are thousands of acres,
both sides the Border, as genial for the Rose as the
King’s by Hereford—nurseries and gardens in every
part of Victoria’s realm, from which Mr. Cranston, or
any other man, with his fondness for the flower and
persevering skill in its culture, may grow it in all its
glory.

But idleness and ignorance will not believe it.
Dwelling in a land of Roses, in a land where the
woods and lanes and hedges are clothed at summer-
tide with Roses, they prefer the stolid conviction
that the stars in their courses fight against them,
that meteorology and geology are their bitter foes.
Look over your garden wall with a beautiful Rose
in your coat, and your neighbour, loitering with his
hands in his pockets, knee-deep in groundsel, amid

his beds undrained, undug, will sigh from the depths

 

SOILS 67

of his divine despair, ‘What a soil yours is for the
Rose!’ Some of my own friends talk to me regularly
as the summer comes, not as though I had any
special fondness or took any special pains, but as if
my garden would grow excellent Roses, whether I
liked it or no. At first, and as a neophyte, I used
to feel a little irritation when all the glory was given
to the ground; and I remember upon one occasion
that Icould not refrain from informing a gentleman
(who bored me with the old unchanging commentary)
that wild Rose-trees, transplanted from the hedgerow
to my garden in the autumn, grew flowers large
enough for exhibition the next summer but one. It
was the simple fact concerning budded Briers, but
he took away the inference, which I blush to own
was meant for him, that the transformation was
effected by the soil solely; and he was very angry,
I heard afterwards, when his views on the subject
were not universally accepted by a large dinner-party
in his own house.

How often has it been said to me, ‘Oh, what a
garden is yours for Roses! We have a few nice
flowers, but of course we can’t compete with you.
Old Mr. Drone, our gardener, tells us that he never
saw such a good soil as yours, nor so bad a soil as
ours, for Roses.’ And herein is a fact in horticulture

—Mr. Drone always has a bad soil. An inferior

68 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

gardener, whether his inferiority is caused by want
of knowledge or want of industry (the latter as a
rule), is always snarling at his soil. Whatever fails
—flowers, fruits, or vegetables, shrubs or trees—the
fault rests ever with the soil. Hearing some of these
malcontents declaim, you would almost conclude that
a tree, planted over—night, would be discovered next
morning prostrate upon its back, ejected by the soil
in disgust. Only by superhuman efforts, they will
assure you, combined with extraordinary talent, can
anything be induced to grow but weeds. The place

might be, like Hood’s Haunted House,

‘ Under some prodigious ban
Of excommunication ’——~

a place from which Jupiter had warned Phoebus and
Zephyrus and Pomona and Flora, on pain of hot
thunderbolts. They come there, of course, from a

spirit of disobedience, but only on the sly, and

 

seldom. The old, old story the muff, coming from
his wicket with his second cipher, and blaming the
uneven ground, the ball which ‘broke in’ with a
wild defiance of every natural law, and baffled all
that science knew; the bad shot, whose ‘beast of a
gun’ is always on half-cock when the rare woodcock
comes, and on whose eyes the sun sheds ever his

extra-dazzling rays; the bad rider, who ‘never gets

 

 

SOILS 69

a start’ (nor wants one), and whose fractious horse
‘wouldn’t go near the brook’ at the very crisis of
the run.

The good gardener, on the contrary, the man
whose heart is in his work, makes the most of his
means, instead of wasting his time in useless lamenta—
tions. He knows that this world is no longer Eden,
and that only by sweat of brow and brain can he
bring flower or fruit to perfection. ‘Let me dig
about it and dung it,’ he says of the sterile tree,
knowing as it was known when the words were
spoken, more than eighteen hundred years ago,
that to prune, and to feed the roots, is to reclaim
and to restore, wherever there is hope of restora—
tion.1

No long time ago, and while the judges at a
flower-show were making their awards, I strolled
with two other exhibitors, gardeners, into a small
nursery—ground not far distant. My companions
were strangers to me, but still more strange to each
other, for they seemed to differ in all points, as much
as two men having the same vocation could. The
one was of a cheerful countenance and conversation,

ruddy with health, lithe and elastic as a hunter in

1 The occasional lifting and tap-root pruning of Standard Rose-
trees is beneficial, as a rule; but exceptions should be made, when
the growth of stock, scion, and flower is vigorous, upon the excellent
principle of letting well alone.

70 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

condition; the other ponderous, morose, flabby—
complexion, gamboge and green. Not knowing their
real appellations, I named them in my own mind
Doleful and Gaylad, after two foxhounds of my
acquaintance. Doleful soon found the fox he
wanted—something to decry and depreciate; and
he gave tongue with a deep melancholy howl, which
might have been the last sad wail of poor Gelert.
Gaylad simultaneously, but in an opposite direction,
went away with /zz's fox—something to admire and
praise; but his tone was full of mirth and music, and
he seemed thoroughly to enjoy the sport. Doleful
had just growled to me in confidence that he
‘wouldn’t have the place as a gift,’ when Gaylad
pronounced it ‘a jolly little spot,’ and told the
occupier, who was hard at work, that this nursery
did him credit. I found out, as we returned, that
these two men were competitors in the same class;
and I found, as I anticipated, on entering the show
that Gaylad was first, and Doleful nowhere. Sub—
sequently, at the dinner, and as I again expected,
Mr. Doleful informed us that his defeat was to be
attributed entirely to the wretched nature of his soil ;
a remark which was received with a graceful silence
by the company in general, and by Mr. Gaylad in
particular with a festive wink.

Some soils, we all know, are naturally more

SOILS 71

beneficent than others, but gardening is an art; its
primary business
‘ To study culture, and with artful toil
To meliorate and tame the stubborn soil ;’

and its success certain, wherever this cum colelza’z' is
undertaken by working heads and hands. I know of
only one soil in which the attempt to grow grand
Roses would he hopeless—a case of ‘ Patience sitting
by the Pool of Despondency and angling for impossi-
bilities,’ with never a nibble—and that is the light
barren sand called ‘drift’ and ‘blowaway,’ of which
the clay farmer said derisively that it might be
ploughed with a Dorking cock and a carving-knife!
Mud, we are told in Mortimer’s ‘Husbandry,’ makes
an extraordinary manure for land that is sandy, but
this gritty rubbish demoralises whatever comes. You
may expel Nature with a muck-fork on Monday, but
on Tuesday morning she will be back, and grinning.

This exception, however, only proves the rule, that
difficulties must yield to cultivation, and to free-trade
in soil. This is, no doubt, a matter of Radical
Reform (Radix, genitive radz'czlr, a root), but the
Conservatories have taken a decided lead in it. The
growers of stove and greenhouse plants collect their
material from all quarters: from India, the fibres of
the cocoa—nut; their sand from Reigate ; their peat

from Bagshot; their leaf-mould, their Sphagnum,

72 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

and other mosses, from forest and bog; their top-
spits from the rich old pasture; their manures,
natural and artificial, from Peru to the farmyard.
They stand in their potting-sheds surrounded by
these varied articles of home and foreign produce,
even as the men of Gunter among the rich ingredients
of the matrimonial cake. Regard, too, the perfect
drainage provided for these plants; no chronic
saturation, dangerous to life, as all dropsies are; no
perpetual conflict between air and water, but each
exercising its function in peace. And yet many a
man who knows all this and practises it wit/12'}: doors
stands helpless and hopeless on the soil wit/tout. I
have walked out of houses where Orchids and stove—
plants, and even those hard—wooded inmates of the
greenhouse which so thoroughly test the plantsman’s
skill—those Ericas, for example, which come indeed
from the Cape of Good Hope, but too often bring
dark despair—were all in admirable condition, and
have been told, as I stood upon soil the facsimile of
my own, and better, ‘We can't grow Roses.’ There

‘ You won’t.’

 

is only one reply,

Because I know that Roses may be grown to
perfection in the ordinary garden soil, if they have
such a position as I have described in the preceding
chapter, and if that soil is cl'llz‘z‘zuztai—I don’t mean

occasionally scratched with a rake and tickled with a

 

SOILS 73

hoe, or sprinkled with manure from a pepper-box,
but thoroughly drained, and dug, and dunged. I am
not theorising, nor playing the game of speculation
with my readers—not writing from a fertile soil,
regardless of the difficulties of others, like the Irish
absentee who, dating from his cosy club in London,
thus addressed his agent in a dangerous, disaffected
district :———‘ Don’t let them think that, by shooting you,
they will at all intimidate me;’ but I have proved
that which I preach in practice. Upon two soils as
different from each other as soils can be, though only
separated by a narrow stream, I have grown Roses
which have won the premier prizes at our chief ‘All
England’ shows. On one side of the brook the
ground is naturally a strong, red, tenacious clay; on
the other, a very light, weak, porous loam, with a
soft, marly subsoil.

The first thing to do with a cold adhesive clay is
to drain it, and to drain it well. When water stag—
nates around the roots of a plant, they cannot receive
the air or the warmth which are alike essential to
their health—nay, life. Cut your drains with a good
fall, straight, and four feet deep; and do not forget,
when you have made them, to look from time to
time, in seasons of wet, whether or no they are doing
their duty. Use tile, not fagots, which soon, in most

cases, become non-conductors.

74 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Having provided channels of escape for the super-
abundant moisture, make it as easy as may be, in the
next place, for the moisture to reach them. Trench
your ground, and by exposing it to atmospheric
influence, make it as porous and friable as you can.
Then consider what additions you may introduce
to its improvement. ‘Anything,’ writes Morton in
his work upon the ‘Nature and Property of Soils,’
‘which will produce permanent friability in clay soils
—such as sand, cinders, lime, soot, burnt clay, loose
light vegetable matter, or long unfermented manure
—-—will alter its texture and improve its quality.’ Of
these, having tried them fairly, I have found that
which is happily the closest to our hand (like a
thousand other privileges and blessings, had we but
eyes to see them) to be the most advantageous—I
mean burnt clay. Some of our modern writers and
lecturers speak of it as of a recent discovery ; but the
Romans knew it, and used incinerated soils two
thousand years before Sir Humphry Davy wrote—
‘The process of burning renders the soil less compact,
less tenacious and retentive of moisture; and properly
applied, may convert matter that was stiff, damp, and
in consequence cold, into one powdery, dry, and
warm, and much more proper as a bed for vegetable
life.’ Let those Rosarians, therefore, who have heavy

tenacious soils, having first tapped their dropsical

 

SOILS 75

patients by drain and trench, promote their con-
valescence by a combination of ancient and modern,
external and internal, pharmacy; let them unite the
old custom of cautery, as they burn their clay, with
the new precepts of homoeopathy, sz'mz'lz'a simz'lz'bus
curantur. And with this object let them save every-
thing, as we are wont to do in our school-days when
the festival of Fawkes drew nigh for a bonfire. Keep
the prunings of your Rosary, that new Roses, like the
Phoenix, may spring from the funeral-pyre; preserve
all other prunings, decayed vegetables, haulm, roots,
refuse, rubbish, weeds—

‘ Since nought so vile, that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth some special good doth give.’

and when you have a goodly omm'um gat/zemm, make
ready your furnace. Arrange your thorns and more
inflammable material as a base, then an admixture of
more solid fuel from your stores, likening and con-
densing alternately, and in the centre disposing some
large pz'éces de rész'stame, such as old tree stumps, use—
less pieces of rotting timber, and the like, which, once
fairly on fire, will go smouldering on for a fortnight.
On this heap, well kindled, and around it, place your
clay, renewing it continually as the fire breaks
through. The pile must be watched so that the
flames may be thus constantly suppressed, the clay
burnt gradually, and not charred to brickdust. ‘The

76 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

ashes of burnt soil are said to be best,’ writes Morton,
‘when they are blackest ; black ashes are produced
by slow combustion, and red ashes by a strong fire.’
Blend these ashes with the parent soil, intermixing
lime, rammel, or sand (if you can get them), and then
there remains, so far as the soil is concerned, but
one addition to be made, and of this we will treat
presently.

First crossing, if you please, the little bridge
which divides my Rose—gardens, and passing over
the narrow streamlet, from a cold clay soil, fertilised
by cultivation, to a light, porous, feeble loam, best
described by a labourer digging it when he said, ‘It
had no more natur' in it than work’us soup.’ Nor
was it ever my intention to try Roses in this meagre
material, until a friend happened one day to say of
it, ‘No man in England could grow Roses t/zcn‘.’
Then, fired by a noble ambition, or pig—headed
perverseness, whichever you please, I resolved to
make the experiment. I took a spade as soon as
he was gone, for a happy thought had struck me
that this soil might resemble that boy-beloved
confection Trifle, which, thin, frothy, and tasteless
in the upper stratum, has below a delicious subsoil
of tipsy-cake and jam. So I found out in my garden,
not far from the surface, a dark, fat, greasy marl,

rich as the nuptial almond-paste, and looking as

SOILS 77

though the rain had washed into it all the goodness
of the upper ground. The lean and the fat, the
froth and the preserves, were soon mixed for me by
the spade aforesaid; and in this soil, trenched and
exposed to the air for a few weeks afterwards, I
planted my Briers. Then followed the manure, of
which I have yet to speak, and in due course the
Roses. These in their first summer, 1865 (I do not
chronicle my success from egotism, but as facts for
the encouragement of others), won the two first prizes
at Birmingham, and two seconds at the Crystal
Palace, with very little assistance from their allies
over the water; and in 1868, from ‘maiden’ stocks
—z°.e., from Briers budded in 1867—1 won fourteen
first prizes out of sixteen collections shown, includ-
ing that which was then considered the champion
prize of all, the first awarded to amateurs at the
Grand National Show of the Royal Horticultural
Society.

In this case, as with the heavy clay, the remedy
lay close to the disease; and in very many similar
cases it will be found that, by intermixing the
stronger and more tenacious subsoil with the surface,
fertility may be secured. If not in actual proximity,
the element required for a defective soil—clay, for
example, when sand predominates—may be procured

generally at no great distance, and may be fetched

78 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

in a waggon or a wheelbarrow,1 in accordance with
ways and means. Let Horticulture in this matter
learn a lesson from her younger sister; and let the
gardener who is whimpering over his rood of un-
kindly soil remember what the farmer has done and
is doing, the wide world over, amid the forest and
the fen. And such pusillanimity is specially comic
in the case of a Scotsman or Englishman who is
surrounded by a thousand proofs of triumphant
cultural skill; who may walk, from dawn to dusk,
among golden corn, where once the antlered monarch
spent his life, unscared by hound or arrow; among
flocks and herds, knee-deep in herbage, where fifty
years ago the blackcock crowed amid the purple
heather, where

‘ The coot was swimming in the reedy pond,

Beside the water-hen, so soon affrighted ;

And where, by whispering sedge, the heron, fond

Of solitude, alighted.’

‘Richard ’——thus I spoke to the indolent and obese
proprietor of a small freehold in my neighbourhood,
who was complaining to me that his garden, about
as highly cultivated as Mariaua’s at the Moated
Grange, was viciously and desperately incapable of

1 A gardener remarked to a friend of mine, who had won a first
prize for Roses at Newark, ‘ I believe, sir, that you have got the only

garden in all Lincolnshire which could grow such blooms.’ ‘And
1 brought it there,’ my friend responded, ‘ in a ullreeliiarrow.’

SOILS 79

producing anything but ‘docks’——‘Richard, your
forefathers have helped to reclaim the greater part
of Sherwood Forest, while their neighbours were
draining the Lincoln fens; and I should almost
have hoped, taking into account the discoveries of
modern science, that you might, in a favourable
season, have educed a few potatoes even from the
depraved material before us.’ But he didn’t seem
to see it.

Wherefore I would ask to narrate, in antithesis,
and to take away, as it were, a nauseous flavour—-
like the fig which followed the castor-oil of our
youth—another small incident. The ‘navvy’ is not
commonly a man of floral proclivities, but I met
with a grand exception a few years ago in the leader
of a gang then working upon one of our midland
lines. When the work was done, and the band
dispersed, he applied for and obtained a gatehouse
on the rail, and to that tenement was attached the
meanest apology for a garden which I ever saw in
my life. Knowing his love of flowers, I condoled
with him at the beginning of his tenancy; but he
only responded with a significant grunt, and a look
at the garden, as though it were a football and he
was going to kick it over the railway. It seemed
to me a gravel-bed, and nothing more. Twelve

months after I came near the place again—was it

80 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

a mirage which I saw on the sandy desert? There
were vegetables, fruit-bushes, and fruit-trees, all in
vigorous health; there were flowers, and the flower-
queen in her beauty. ‘Why, Will,’ I exclaimed,
‘what have you done to the gravel-bed?’ ‘Lor’
bless yer,’ he replied, grinning, ‘I hadn’t been here
a fortnight afore I swapped it for a pond ! ’ He had,
as a further explanation informed me, and after an
agreement with a neighbouring farmer, removed with
pick and barrow his sandy stratum to the depth of
three feet, wheeled it to the banks of an old pond,
or rather to the margin of a cavity where a pond
once was, but which had been gradually filled up
with leaves and silt; and this rich productive mould
he had brought home a distance of 200 yards,
replacing it with the gravel, and levelling as per
contract. Some other neighbour had given him a
cart—load of clay, and the children had ‘scratted
together a nicst bit 0’ muck, and he meant stirring
up them cottagers at next show with Roses, and
“ kidneys ” too.’

It occurred to me, as I rode home reflecting, that
there was a striking similarity in this case, as in
many others, between the gardener and his ground;
for Will had been at one time a drinking, poaching,
quarrelsome ‘shack,’ and was now a good husband,

a good father, and, I believe, a good Christian ;—-

 

SOILS 81

the gravel had been converted into loam. And is
there not much resemblance between ourselves and
our soils—the soil without, and that soil within, which
the Psalmist calls ‘the ground of the heart’? No
two characters, and no two gardens, exactly alike,
but all with the same natural propensity to send up
wild oats and weeds ; all requiring continuous culture,
training, and watchful care ; all dependent, when man
has done his best, upon the sunshine and rains of
heaven. ‘Soils,’ writes Loudon, ‘not kept friable by
cultivation, soon become hardened ; ’ and so do lzearts.
But from ourselves, as from our soils, we may eject
the evil, introducing the good in its place; we may
grow Roses instead of weeds, if we will. ‘Upon the
same man,’ writes Richter, who was a florist as well
as a philosopher, and seldom appeared in the streets
of Bayreuth without a flower in his coat, ‘as upon a
vine-planted mount, there grow more kinds of wine
than one: on the south side something little worse
than nectar, on the north side something little better
than vinegar.’ But we may level the hill by humbling
our pride, and so lay open the whole vineyard before
the summer sun.

I pass now to the consideration of a subject which
is one of the most important of all to those who desire

to grow Roses in perfection.

CHAPTER VI
MANURES

I OPENED noiselessly the other morning, that I
might enjoy a father’s gladness, the door of a room
in which my little boy, ‘six ofij’ was at his play.
Under the table, walled round by every available
chair, with a fire-screen for the front door, and a
music-stool, inverted atop to represent the main stack
of chimneys, he was evidently entertaining a beloved
and honoured guest. The banquet had just com-
menced, and the courteous host was recommending
to his distinguished visitor (a very large and hand—
some black retriever, by name ‘ Colonel ’) the viands
before him. These viands, upon a cursory glance
through the chair-legs, did not strike me as of an
appetising or digestible character—the two piece: (219
resistance consisting of a leg-rest and a small coal-
scuttle, and the side dishes being specimens of the
first Atlantic Telegraph Cable, presented to me by
Sir Charles Bright, with a selection of exploded

cartridges, sea-shells, ninepins, buttons, marbles, and
82

 

MANURES 83

keys. In the vivid imagination of childhood, not-
withstanding, they represented all the luxuries dearest
to the palate of youth; and if the Colonel, who, by
the bye, was in full uniform, made from the supple—
ment of the Times newspaper, and was a’e’core’ with
the Order of the String and Penwiper, had partaken
of a tithe of the delicacies pressed on him, and
according to the order in which they were served,
there must have been inevitably speedy promotion in
his regiment. The menu, orally announced by the
host, opened with cheese, and passed on to hasty-
pudding, which were followed in rapid succession by
peaches, beef, roley-poley, hare, more hasty-pudding,
honey, apricots, and boiled rabbits, the liquids being
cowslip-wine and beer. ‘And now, Colonel, dear,’
were the last words I heard, ‘you shall have some
pigeon—pie and custard, and then we’ll smoke a
cigar.’1

In like manner does the wee, golden-haired lassie
delight to do homage to the queen of her little world,
her doll, watching her tenderly, and singing a lullaby

1 I cannot resist an impulse to record another small incident which
occurred to ‘Colonel’ soon after the publication of this book. Late
one winter’s night, Joe, my footman, heard him growling angrily
outside the stable-yard, and found him standing over the prostrate
form of a man, or rather beast, so drunk that he was muttering
responses to the dog, evidently under the impression that he was being
severely reprimanded by some indignant person in authority. ‘ IVE/l,
.rir’ (Joe heard him plead), ‘ g'fl did say so, I’m sure I didn’t mam it.”

84 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

which, regarding the condition of those two immense
blue eyes, appears to be quite hopeless; then decking
her with every bit of finery which she can beg from
mammy or nurse, and waiting upon her with a fond,
untiring service.

And even so did I, in the childhood of that life,
which is always young—do not our hearts foreknow,
my brothers, the happy truth, which old men certify,
that the love of flowers is of those few earthly plea-

sures which age cannot wither P—even so did I, in

‘ My szlllet days,
\Vhen I was green in judgment,’

essay, with an enthusiastic, though ofttimes mistaken,
zeal, to propitiate and to serve the Rose. And
specially, as with my little toy and his large idol, in
the matter of food, I tried to please her with a great
diversity of diet. I made anxious experiment of a
multiplicity of manures —organic and inorganic,
animal and vegetable, cheap and costly, home and
foreign. I laboured to discover her favourite dish as
earnestly as the alchemist to realise the Philosopher’s
Stone; but I differed from the alchemist, the
Rosarian from the Rosicrucian, in one essential point
—[fou;za’ it!

Where? Not down among the bones. I tried

bones of all denominations—bones in their integrity,

MANURES 85

bones crushed, bones powdered, bones dissolved with
sulphuric and muriatic acid, as Liebig bade; and I
have a very high admiration of the bone as a most
sure and fertilising manure. For agricultural pur-
poses, for turnips, for grass recently laid down, or for
a starved, exhausted pasture, whereupon you may
write your name with it; and in horticulture, for the
lighter soils, for the vine-border, for plants (the
Pelargonium especially), it is excellent; but in the
Rosary, although a magnum (I feel in writing the
pun like the little boy who chalked ‘ No Popery ’ on
Dr Wiseman’s door, half ashamed of the deed, and
desirous to run), it is not the summum 507mm of
manures.

Nor up the chimney—though, for Roses on the
Manetti stock, and for Tea—Roses, soot is good
manure, and useful as a surface-dressing for hot
dry soils. Nor among the autumn leaves, although
these also, decayed to mould and mixed with the
soil, are very advantageous; and sure and great is
the reviving power, which gives back to the ground,
according to the gracious law of Providence, the
strength which was borrowed from it ; when

‘The world of matter, in its various forms,
All dies into new life—life out of death.’

Nor, crossing the seas, among those bird-islands of

Peru, Bolivia, Patagonia, in which—barren, rainless,

86 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

and, as they seem to man, useless—the fish-fed fowls
of the ocean were accumulating for centuries a
treasure-heap more precious than gold—millions
upon millions of tons of rich manure, which has
multiplied the food of nations throughout the civilised
world, and still remains in immense abundance for
us and generations after us. Guano, nevertheless, is
not the manure for Roses. Its influence is quickly
and prominently acknowledged by additional size
and brightness of foliage,1 but the efflorescence, so
far as my experiments have shown, derives no advan-
tage as to vigour or beauty; and even on the leaf
the effect is transitory.

Nor in the guano of animal zmp/ume—not in the
soil called ‘ night.’ The Romans reverenced Cloacina,
the goddess of the sewers, and the statue which they
found of her in the great drains of Tarquinius was
beautiful as Venus’ self; but they honoured her,
doubtless, only as a wise sanatory commissioner who
removed their impurities, and, so doing, brought
health to their heroes and loveliness to their maidens.
They only knew half her merits; but in Olympus, we
may readily believe, there was fuller justice done.
Although weaker goddesses may have been unkind

1The Rev. W. F. Radelylle strongly recommends saltpetre and

nitrophosphate (blood) manure, as imparting a deeper, richer green to

foliage.

MANURES 87

——may have averted their divine noses when Cloacina
passed, and made ostentatious use of scent-bottle and
pocket-handkerchief—Flora, and Pomona, and Ceres
would ever admire her virtues, and beseech her benign
influence upon the garden, the orchard, and the farm.
But the terrestrials never thought that fan: urbz's
might be lax orbis, and they polluted their rivers, as
we ours, with that which should have fertilised their
lands. And we blame the Romans very much indeed ;
and we blame everybody else very much indeed; and
we do [lope the time will soon be here when such a
sinful waste will no longer disgrace an enlightened
age; but beyond the contribution of this occasional
homily, it is, of course, no affair of ours. Each man
assures his neighbour that the process of dessication
is quite easy, and the art of deodorising almost nice ;
but nobody ‘ goes in.’ The reader, I have no doubt,
has with me had large experience of this perversity
in neighbours, and ofttimes has been perplexed and
pained by their dogged, strange reluctance to follow
the very best advice. There was at Cambridge, some
thirty years ago, an insolent, foul—mouthed, pugnacious
sweep, who escaped for two terms the sublime licking
which he ‘ annexed’ finally, because no one liked to
tackle the soot. There were scores of undergraduates,
to whom pugilism was a thing of beauty and a joy for

ever, who had the power and the desire to punish his

88 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

impudence, but they thought of the close wrestle,—
they reflected on the ‘hug,’ and left him. To drop
metaphor, there is no more valuable manure; but it
is, from circumstances which require no explana-
tion, more suitable for the farm than the garden,
especially as we have a substitute, quite as effica-
cious, and far more convenient and agreeable in
use.

No, not ‘burnt earth.’ I spoke as earnestly as I
could of the value of that application in my last
chapter, because it is impossible in many cases to
exaggerate its worth ; but I alluded at the same time
to another indispensable addition which must be
made to the soil of a Rose-garden, and now I will
tell you what it is: I will tell you where I found the
Philosopher’s Stone in the words of that fable by
Alsop, which is, I think, the first of the series, and
which was first taught to me in the French language,
—‘ U72 cog, grattmzt sur 2m fzmzz'cr, trozwaz'tpar hazard

)

zme pz'erre prc’cz'euse; or, as it is written in our English
version, ‘ a brisk young cock, in company with two or
three pullets, his mistresses, raking upon a dunghill
for something to entertain them with, happened to
scratch up a jewel.’ The little allegory is complete:
I was the brisk young cock, my favourite pullet was
the Rose, and in a heap of farmyard manure I found

the treasure.

MANURES 89

Yes, here is the mine of gold and silver, gold medals
and silver cups for the grower of prize Roses ; and to
all who love them, the best diet for their health and
beauty, the most strengthening tonic for their weak-
ness, and the surest medicine for disease. ‘Dear
me l ’ exclaims some fastidious reader, ‘ what a nasty
brute the man is! He seems quite to revel in refuse,
and to dance on his dunghill with delight!’ The
man owns to the soft impeachment. If the man had
been a Roman emperor he would have erected the
most magnificent temple in honour of Sterculus,
the son of Faunus, that Rome ever saw. Because
Sterculus, the son of Faunus—so Pliny tells—dis-
covered the art and advantage of spreading dung
upon the land; and he should have appeared in the
edifice dedicated to him, graven larger than life in
pure gold, riding proudly in his family chariot, the
currus Stercorosus (Aug/ice, muck-cart), with the
agricultural trident in his hand. As it is, I always
think of him with honour when I meet the vehicle in
which he loved to drive—have ever a smile of extra
sweetness for the wide-mouthed waddling charioteer,
and am pained at heart to find the precious com—
modity fallen, or, as they say in Lancashire, ‘ slattered,’
on the road. Ah! but once that fastidious reader will
be pleased to hear, the man brought himself to sore

shame and confusion by this wild, passionate affec-

90 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

tion. Returning on a summer’s afternoon from a
parochial walk,I inferred from wheel-tracks on my
carriage-drive that callers had been and gone. I
expected to find cards in the hall, and I saw that the
horses had kindly left theirs on the gravel. At that
moment one of those

‘ Grim spirits in the air,
Who grin to see us mortals grieve,
And dance at our despair,’

fiendishly suggested to my mind an economical
desire to utilise the souvenir before me. I looked
around and listened ; no sight, no sound of humanity.
I fetched the largest fire-shovel I could find, and
was carrying it bountifully laden through an arch—
way cut in a high hedge of yews, and towards a
favourite tree of ‘ Charles Lefebvre,’ when I suddenly
confronted three ladies, ‘who had sent round the
carriage, hearing that I should soon be at home,
and were admiring my beautiful Roses.’ It may be
said, with the strictest regard to veracity, that they
saw nothing that day which they admired, in the
primary meaning of the word, so much as myself
and fire-shovel; and I am equally sure that no Rose
in my garden had a redder complexion than my
own.

And now, to be practical, what do I mean by

MANURES 91

farmyard manure—when and how should it be
used ?

By farmyard manure I mean all the manures of
the straw-yard, solid and fluid, horse, cow, pig,
poultry, in conjunction. Let a heap be made near
the Rosarium, not suppressing the fumes of a
natural fermentation by an external covering, but
forming underneath a central drain, having lateral
feeders, and at the lower end an external tank,
after the fashion of those huge dinner-dishes whose
channels carry to the ‘well’ the dark gravies of the
baron and the haunch (here that fastidious reader
collapses, and is removed in a state of syncope), so
that the rich extract, full of carbonate of ammonia,
and precious as attar, may not be wasted, but may
be used either as a liquid manure in the Rosary,1
or pumped back again to (Basie z‘lze beef.

How long should it remain in the heap before
it is fit for application to the soil? The degree of
decomposition to which farmyard dung should arrive

1 The happy Rosarian who has a farmyard of his own, will, of
course, have a large covered tank therein, for the reception and
preservation of liquid manure. At all times, of drought especially,
this will be more precious as a restorative and tonic to his Roses
than the waters of Kissingen, Vichy, or Harrogate, to his invalid
fellow-men. Only let him remember this rule of application—weak
and oft, rather than strong and seldom. I bought my own experience
by destroying with too potent potations, forgetting that infants don’t

drink brandy mat, the delicate, fibrous rootlets of some beautiful
Rose-trees on the Manetti stock.

92 , A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

before it can be deemed a profitable manure, must
depend on the texture of the soil, the nature of
the plants, and the time of its application.1 In
general, clayey soils, more tenacious of moisture,
and more benefited by being rendered incohesive
and porous, may receive manure less decomposed
than more pulverised soils required. Again, the
season when manure is applied is also a material
circumstance.

I have made many experiments, but I have come
back to the plan which I adopted first of all, and
I believe it to be the best—namely, to give the
Rose-trees a liberal stratum of farmyard manure in
November, leaving it as a protection as well as a
fertiliser through the winter months, and digging
it in in March. For some years I manured the
plants heavily in the spring, after hoeing or digging,
and let the manure remain through the summer.
This system succeeds in a very hot, dry season, but
makes the ground sodden when the weather is wet,
and at all times is an obstruction to the sunlight and
the air. I therefore prefer the course which I have
named, to be supplemented by liquid manure,
or some slight surface-dressing of guano (that

which comes from the dove-cot is still almost as

1 See the article on Agriculture, ‘ Encylopxdia Britannica,’ ii. 300.

MANURES 93

precious as it was in the siege of Samaria) or bone-
dust, when the buds are swelling into bloom; so
that, as the lanky schoolboy is placed upon a
regimen of boiled eggs and roast-beef, Allsopp,
Guinness, and Bass—so the Rose-trees (those
nursing-mothers of such beautiful babes) may have
good ‘support’ when they want it most. ‘It is
believed,’ writes Morton, ‘by observers of nature,
that plants do no injury to the soil while they are
producing their stems and leaves, and that it is
only when the blossom and the seed require
nourishment that they begin to exhaust it.’

A very effective surface-dressing was communi-
cated to me many years ago by Mr. Rivers, who
afterwards published it, as followsz—‘The most
forcing stimulant that can be given to Roses is a
compost formed of horse—droppings from the roads
or stable’ (he says nothing about a fire-shovel),
‘and malt or kiln dust, to be obtained from any
malt-kiln, equal quantities. This, well mixed,
should then be spread out in a bed one foot thick,
and thoroughly saturated with strong liquid manure,
pouring it over the compost gently for, say, two
days—so that it is gradually absorbed. The com-
post is then fit for a summer surface-dressing,
either for Roses in pots, in beds, or standard Roses.

It should be applied, say, in April, and again in

94 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

May and June, about an inch thick, in a circle
round the tree, from 12 to 18 inches in diameter.
This compost is not adapted for mixing with the
soil that is placed among the roots, but is for a
summer surface-dressing only; and care must be
lal’en l/mt 2'! is not placed 271 a heap or ridge afler
z't lads [Jew 1Izzlrea’,for t/zerz firmem‘az‘z’on is so violent
t/zaz,‘ Z/ze smell becomes z'm‘olerable.’

So powerful is this confection, that I have found
one application quite sufficient; and this I apply,
when the Rosebuds are formed and swelling, towards
the end of May, or, in a late season, the beginning
of June. I wait for the indications of rain, that
the fertilising matter may be at once washed down
to the roots; and it never fails to act as quinine
to the weakly, and as generous wine to the strong.
During the extraordinary drought of the summer
in 1868, I watched day after day—nay, week after
week—with a patience worthy of that deaf old
gentleman who listened for three months to catch
the ticking of a sun-dial, or of him who undertook
the tedious task of teaching a weather-cock to
crow; and at last, feeling sure of my shower,
wheeled barrow after barrow with my own hands,
not seeming to have time to call for help, over the
little bridge, and spread it over the parched soil.
Soon the big rain came dancing to the earth, and

MANURES 95

when it had passed, and I smoked my evening
weed among the Rose-trees, I fancied that already
the tonic had told. At all events, it is written in
the chronicles of the Rose-shows how those Roses
sped.

Again, Mr. Rivers, whom I have just quoted, and
to whom we must still give precedence, remembering
what he has done in the Rosarium, writes: ‘I have
found night-soil, mixed with the drainings of the
dunghill, or even with common ditch or pond water,
so as to make a thick liquid, the best possible
manure for Roses, poured on the surface of the
soil twice in winter, from I to 2 gallons to each
tree: December and January are the best months:
the soil need not be stirred till spring, and then
merely loosened 2 or 3 inches deep with the prongs
of a fork. For poor soils, and on lawns, previously
removing the turf, this will be found more efficacious.
Brewers’ grains also form an excellent surface-
dressing: they should be laid in a heap for two
or three weeks to ferment, and one or two large
shovelfuls placed round each plant, with some peat-
charcoal to deodorise them, as the smell is not
agreeable.’

I will quote in alphabetical sequence the other
distinguished public Rosarians who have expressed

their opinions, or proved their skill at all events,

96 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

in the matter. These are Mr. Cant of Colchester;
Mr. Cranston of Hereford; Mr. Francis of Hert—
ford; Mr. Keynes of Salisbury; Mr. Lane of Berk-
hampstead; Mr. Mitchell of I’iltsdown; Mr. George
Paul, the representative of Messrs. Paul & Son,
Cheshunt; Mr. William Paul, Waltham Cross;
Mr. Prince of Oxford; Mr. Turner of Slough, and
Messrs. Wood of Maresfield. There is, of course,
a very large number of other nurserymen, who
grow Roses most extensively and in their fullest per-
fection~such as Bunyard at Maidstone, Dicksons
at Chester, Dickson at Newtownards, Harkness at
Bedale, Mack at Catterick, Merryweather at South—
well, Mount at Canterbury, Smith at Worcester,
Walters at Exeter, but I may not extend my
quotations.

Mr. Benjamin Cant, who, from his rich soil at
Colchester, has produced a larger number of pre-
eminent Roses than any other exhibitor, recommends
that in planting Roses, a hole should be made about
18 inches deep, and large enough to contain half a
wheelbarrowful of compost; two-thirds of this should
be strong turfy loam, and one-third well-decomposed
animal manure. These should be thoroughly mixed
together.

Mr. Cranston writes in his ‘ Cultural Directions for

the Rose,’ which may be followed by amateurs with

MANURES 97

a sure confidence: ‘I have found, after repeated
trials for some years, that pig-dung is the best of
all manures for Roses; next night-soil, cow-dung,
and horse-dung. These should stand in a heap from
one to three months, but not sufficiently long to
become exhausted of their ammonia and salts.
Pig-dung should be put on the ground during
winter or early spring, and forked in at once. In
using night-soil, mix with burnt earth, sand, charcoal-
dust, or other dry substance. Apply a small portion
of the mixture to each plant or bed during winter,
and let it be forked in at once. Soot is a good
manure, especially for the Tea-scented and other
Roses on their own roots; so are wood—ashes and
charcoal. Bone—dust or half-inch bones forms an
excellent and most lasting manure. Guano and
superphosphate of lime are both good manure for
Roses, but require to be used cautiously.’

Mr. Keynes of Salisbury recommended ‘a good
wheelbarrowful of compost—two-thirds good turfy
loam, and one-third well-decomposed animal manure.’
He adds—and the words of one whose Roses, in a
favourable season, could not be surpassed in size
or colour, should be remembered practically—‘ It is
difficult to give the Rose too good a soil.’

Mr. Lane of Berkhampstead writes thus: ‘The

best method of manuring beds is to dig in a good
G

98 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

dressing of stable or other similar manure, this being
the most safe from injuring vegetation in any soil,
and it never does more good to Roses than when
it is used as a surface—dressing. When placed, about
two inches deep, over the surface in March, the
ground seldom suffers from drought; but this is,
perhaps, by some considered unsightly.’

Mr. George Paul, ‘the hero of a hundred fights,’
advises that ‘in planting the ground should be
deeply trenched, and well-rotted manure be plenti-
fully added. If the soil be old garden—soil, add
good loam, rich and yellow; choose a dry day for
the operation, and leave the surface loose. Stake all
standards, and mulch with litter, to protect the roots
from frost.’

Mr. William Paul, in his interesting work, ‘The
Rose—Garden,’ gives, in the Introduction, the results
of his experiments with manure. ‘In the summer
of I842,’ he writes, ‘six beds of Tea-scented Roses
were manured with the following substances: (1) bone—
dust, (2) burnt earth, (3) nitrate of soda, (4) guano;
(5) pigeon-dung, (6) stable manure, thoroughly de—
composed. The soil in which they grew was an
alluvial loam. The guano produced the earliest
visible effects, causing a vigorous growth, which
continued till late in the season; the foliage was

large and of the darkest green, but the flowers on

MANURES 99

this bed were not very abundant. The shoots did
not ripen well, and were consequently much injured
by frost during the succeeding winter. The bed
manured with burnt earth next forced itself into
notice; the plants kept up a steadier rate of growth,
producing an abundance of clear, well-formed
blossoms; the wood ripened well, and sustained
little or no injury from the winter’s frost. The
results attendant on the use of the other manures
were not remarkable: they had acted as gentle
stimulants, the nitrate of soda and bones least
visibly so, although they were applied in the
quantities usually recommended by the vendors.
. I think burnt and charred earth the best
manure that can be applied to wet or adhesive soils.’
Mr. Prince says: ‘My plants on the cultivated
Seedling Brier do not require so much manuring
as other forms of stocks. I do not recommend
any manure at time of planting, unless the ground
has been greatly impoverished by trees and shrubs
or Roses, in which case a portion of the soil should
be removed, and a fresh supply given, which should
consist of the top-spit from a meadow of heavy
loam, well decayed; but it should not be forgotten
that after the Roses have been planted for two
years, and are well established, they will require a
liberal supply of manure. I have found that the

100 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

worst attack of mildew first made its appearance
on young plants in land which had been manured
at the time of planting.’

Mr. Turner of Slough does not show his cards,
but when he comes to play them on the green
cloth or baize of the exhibition—table, no man
deals more fairly, knows the game more thoroughly,
holds more trumps, or scores the honours more
frequently.

Messrs. Wood of Maresfield, at one time the
largest growers of the Rose in the world, commend
a mixture of well—seasoned animal manure, with
the top-spit of an old pasture, deep trenching,
thorough draining, and a free use of the pruning-
knife the first year after planting.

Concluding this long chapter, I would earnestly
assure the novice in Rose-growing that there is
only one exception (and that in Egypt) to the
rule, Ex 71272270 7127227 fit. If he really means to
make the Rose his hobby, and to enjoy the ride,
he must feed him liberally and regularly with old
oats and beans. The Rose cannot be grown in its
glory withOut frequent and rich manure; and again,
I recommend that the best farmyard dung be applied
towards the end of November, when the ground is
dry and dug in in March, and that the surface-

dressing prescribed by Mr. Rivers, or some other

MANURES . 101

stimulant, be administered at the beginning of June.
And if neighbours, who are not true lovers of the
Rose, expostulate, and condemn the waste, quote
for their edification those true words of Victor
Hugo, in ‘Les Misérables,’ ‘t/ze beautzful is as
useful as #26 useful, per/zaps more so.’

Nevertheless, I must warn the young Rosarian
that he may be too lavish in his application of
manures. The enthusiastic tyro has been known
to plant his Rose-trees in a composition, made
up half and half, of raw reeking manure and soil.
The results have been disastrous; and when an
explanation of the debility outside has been sought
within the soil, it has been sadly seen that the
little tender rootlets have been sore let and hindered
by their rank unsavoury surroundings, and have made
but a feeble growth.

Nor must the amateur keep the sunshine and
the rain from the soil by covering it continuously
with solid manures. One liberal application from
the farmyard, laid on late in November or early in
December (when the first frost makes a hard road
for the wheelbarrow), and dug in about the middle
of March, is ample, with the addition of some
fertilising liquid, when the buds expand for efflor-
escence, and some slight thin mulching in times

of excessive drought.

I02 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

The novice must not expect that his Roses will
always maintain their integrity even in the kindliest
of soils, and with a most anxious and clever cultiva-
tion. Sooner or later they will deteriorate, and
must be replaced by a younger and stronger
growth from the nurseries or the budding-ground.

Nay, the time must come, when the soil itself
will give manifest intimations that in horticulture
as in agriculture it is expedient to change our
crops; and he who would maintain his supremacy
as a Rosarian must seek ‘fields fresh and pastures
new.’

I exhausted three Rose-gardens of considerable
extent, and should have joyfully continued the
process of exhaustion, had I not reached my
boundaries, satisfied my ambition as an exhibitor,
and become more and more inclined to distribute
my admirations among the manifold beauties of
the garden, rather than to concentrate all my devo-
tions upon the Rose. Of course, she was to remain
for ever my Sovereign Lady, the Queen.

We have found our situation, we have prepared
our soil; we will speak now of the arrangement
of the Rosarium, and then of the Rose itself.

CHAPTER VH
ARRANGEMENT

EVERY gardener must be an infidel—I am, and
I glory in the fact—on the subject of infidelity.
The proofs and the precepts of natural and revealed
religion are brought so frequently and impressively
before him, that he cannot believe in unbelief. He
takes a seed, a bulb, a cutting (who made them P);
he places them in the soil which is most congenial
(who made it?); the seed germinates, the bulb
spindles, the cutting strikes (whence the motive
power P); he tends and waters (but who sends the
former and the’latter rain P); and the flower comes
forth in glory. Does he say, with the proud
Assyrian, ‘By the strength of my hand I have done
it, and by my wisdom’? Does he not stand the
rather, with a reverent wonder, to consider the
Lilies (the Auratum, it may be, the glowing
Amaryllid, the Pancratium, the Arum, or the
lovely Eucharis, in robes pure and white as a

mart rr’s until the ver soul within him rises heaven-
} , y 103

104 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

ward, and Mamas Tux fecerzmt is his psalm of
praise?

And the truths of Revelation, the histories and
the prophecies of the Older Testament, the miracles
and parables of the New, are taught as constantly
and as clearly to the gardener in his daily life. In
our gardens always

‘ There is a book, who runs may read,

Which heavenly truth imparts ’—
ever reminding us of that Eden wherein were all
things pleasant to the eye and good for food; of
Gethsemane, and of that garden where our crucified
Lord was laid. What is our love of flowers, our
calm happiness in our gardens, but a dim recollection
of our first home in paradise, and a yearning for the
Land of Promise! Here in the wilderness we love
to reclaim these green spots from the brier and
thorn; to fence and to cleanse; to plant and sow;
to sit at eventide, when work is done, every man
under his vine and under his fig-tree, with thank—
fulness and hope.

With hope, because these our gardens—scenes
though they be of brightest beauty to our eyes, and
sources of our purest joys—do not satisfy, are not
meant to satisfy, our heart’s desire. Perishable as
we ourselves, for the grass withereth, the flower

fadeth, they are, moreover, like all our handiwork,

ARRANGEMENT 105

deformed by fault and flaw. Did you ever meet
a gardener who, however fair his ground, was
absolutely content and pleased? Did you never
hear ‘O Si angulus ille!’ from the lord of many
fields? Is there not always a tree to be felled or
a bed to be turfed? Does not somebody’s chimney,
or somebody’s ploughed field, persist in obtruding
its ugliness? Is there not ever some grand mistake
to be remedied next summer? Alas! the florist
never is, but always to be blessed with a perfect
garden: and to him, as to all mankind, perfect
happiness is that ‘gay to-morrow of the mind, which
never comes.’

These imperfections and mistakes, of course, arise
in our gardens mainly from our own ignorance or
indolence; and as sterility, feebleness, and premature
decay are caused not by tree, plant, weather, soil,
but by wrong treatment, position, neglect; so all
unsightly combinations—poverty or excess of objects
brought together, rigidity, monotony, ungracefulness
—originate not from the materials at our disposal,
but from the manner in which we dispose them.
And in this matter of arrangement we are at the
present day conspicuously weak. Never was the
gardener so rich in resources. Our collectors, hazard-
ing their lives, and losing them, in their work of

love, have gained us treasures from every clime.

106 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Sadly, like some cemetery tree, does the beautiful
Douglas Pine remind us of him whose name it bears,
who sent it to adorn our homes, and who, searching
for fresh prizes, perished miserably, falling into a
pit dug by the Sandwich Islanders for the capture
of wild bulls, and gored to death by one of them.
The lovely Lycaste speaks to us sorrowfully of
George Ure Skinner; and the most striking of the
Marantas (Veitc/zz'z'), the velvety Begonia Pearcei,
with its golden flowers, the exquisite Gymnostachium,
and splendid Sanchezia, of Richard Pearce—both
of whom died in their harness. These and others
have amplified our shining stores; while our florists
at home, by selection, culture, cross-breeding, and
hybridising, have made admirable improvements and
large additions in every department of their art.
The gardener, nevertheless, with all this wealth and
skill, fails signally, in my eyes, as to the laying out
of his garden. He fails, because he has to a great
extent abandoned the English or natural system
for the Italian and Geometrical, because he must
have a sensational garden in spring, summer, and
winter. His ancestors—poor floral fogiesl-looked
upon their gardens as quiet resting—places, fair scenes
of refreshment and of health; and, wandering amid
these ‘haunts of ancient peace,’ they loved the cool

grot for contemplation made, or the sunny walk

ARRANGEMENT 107

through the glossy evergreens in which the throstle
sang. They welcomed their flowers as He sent them
who ‘hath made everything beautiful in His time’:
they did not upbraid Nature, nor essay to wake her
when she slept her winter sleep; they forgave her
deciduous trees. They followed her in all things
as their teacher. They copied her lines, which were
rarely straight, rarely angular; and her surfaces,
which were rarely flat. Said to me a house—painter,
whom I watched and praised as he was cleverly
graining one of my doors in imitation of oak, ‘ Well,
sir, I must say I do think myself, that I’m following
up Natur’ close,’ and he ran his thumb-nail up a
panel swiftly, as though he would catch her by the
heel. So did they reproduce her graceful features.
‘It is the peculiar happiness of the age’ (this was
written in I 7 55) ‘to see just and noble ideas brought
into practice, peculiarities banished, prospects opened,
the country called in, Nature rescued and improved,
and Art decently concealing itself under her own
productions.’ ‘I am now,’ wrote the Czarina to
Voltaire in the year I 772, ‘wildly in love with the
English system of gardening, its waving lines and
gentle declivities;’ and so was all the gardening
world. Sixty years later, in my own childhood,
there were in the garden, before me as I write,——-and

now little more than one subdivided flower-bed,—

108 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

those bowers and meandering walks, many a pleasant
nook, where the aged might rest, young men and
maidens sigh their love, and happy children play.
Ah, what delicious facilities for ‘I spy’ and for
‘hide-and-seek,’ where now there is but scant con-
cealment for the furtive hungry eat! What lookings
into eyes, what approximations of lips, where now
it would be ‘bragian’ boldness to squeeze a body’s
hand! I look through the window, and I see the
place where, under drooping branches, we children
were enthroned as kings and queens; where we
entertained ambassadors with surreptitious food;
where in my ninth year I was crowned with laurel
(the only bit of reality) as the great poet of my day;
and where, for brilliant service, I was knighted scores
of times, on my return from India, with the handle
of our garden-rake! I see the place—it was hidden
behind the yew—trees then—-where we were so often
shipwrecked upon ‘Desert Island,’ and where my
youngest sister would never be induced to have her
face adequately grimed for the performance of man
Friday! Ilook—but I can see no more! ‘A flood
of thoughts comes o’er me, and fills mine eyes with
tears.’ The playmates of my youth—where are
they? O doleful memories! 0 blissful h0pes! O
dreadful earthly darkness! 0 dazzling heavenly

light! The morning cometh, as also the night.

ARRANGEMENT 109

But what do I see, as the mist clears? A
garden which, like a thousand others, has obeyed
the command of imperious Fashion,—Away with
your borders, your mounds, and your clumps!
Away with walks and with grottoes, nooks, corners,
and light and shade! Down with your timber! To
the rubbish—heap with your lilacs and almonds, your
laburnums and blossoming trees! Stub, lay bare,
level and turf; then cover the whole by line and
measure with a geometrical design.1 Do you require
examples? Copy your carpet, or the ornaments on
your pork-pie. Then purchase or provide—for the
spring, Bulbs by the sack; for the summer, Pelar-
goniums by the million; for the winter, baby Ever-
greens and infant Conifers—brought prematurely
from the nursery into public life, like too many
of our precocious children—by the waggon-load ;
introducing among the latter, narrow little walks of
pounded cockle-shells, broken glass, gypsum, brick-
dust, sheep’s trotters, etc., etc.

I am well aware that the geometrical system,
especially when it is combined with terraces, stair-
cases, balustrades, and edgings of stones, is very

I With wise instructions from the best (in my opinion) of our
landscape gardeners, Mr. Marnock, and with very kindly help from
my friends Mr. \Villiam Robinson and Mr. Ingram of Belvoir, I

restored and reclothed the plot of ground about my home, which was,
and is once more again—-a garden.

no A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

efi'ective and appropriate around our palaces, castles,
and other stately homes. For these it forms a
beautiful floor and fringe. It prevents too sudden
a transition from architecture to horticulture.1 With
the pleasure-grounds around opening upon the park,
and with the general landscape in the distance
beyond, the amalgamation of art and nature is
excellent. Nor do I deny for a moment that in
all gardens, if introduced in modest and due pro-
portion, it is the most becoming framework for our
summer flowers ; but my complaint is, that this giant
Geometry has taken possession of our small gardens
not as an ally, but as an autocrat—ejecting old
tenants and dismissing old servants like some heart—
less conceited heir, extruding them disdainfully, as
the usurping cuckoo thrusts the eggs from a
sparrow’s nest. Just as that sensational system of
gardening which goes by the name of ‘Bedding-
Out,’ has expelled in so many instances our beautiful
herbaceous plants and our lovely flowering shrubs,

so the geometrical style has destroyed too frequently

1 ‘ His' (Sir C. Barry’s) ‘idea was, that the detinite artificial lines
of a building should not be contrasted, but harmonised, with the free
and careless grace of natural beauty. This could only he effected by
a scheme of architectural gardens, graduated, as it were, from regular
formality in the immediate neighbourhood ol the building itself,
through shrubberies and plantations, less and less artificial, till they
seemed to melt away in the unstudicd simplicity of the park or wood
without.’—‘ Memoir of Sir C. Barry,’ by his Son, p. lt3.

ARRANGEMENT III

a more natural grace, wearying the eye instead of
refreshing it. Some may like to see the hair pulled
back from a winsome face, or twisted in fantastic
forms : give me ripples of light in the wavelike braid,
and reliefs of shade in the glossy clustering curls.

True art hides itself, and every man in laying out
a garden should remember the precept, Arr est celare
artem. He should, moreover, cause to be painted on
his case of mathematical instruments, and printed
largely on the cover of his sketch-book, those two
lines, written by a true gardener and poet (must not
every true gardener be a poet, though it may be of
songs without words P)—

‘ He wins all points, who pleasingly confounds,
Surprises, varies, and conceals the bounds.’1

But what, it may be asked, has all this to do with
the Rosary? And I answer, Everything; because
nowhere is the formal, monotonous, artificial system
of arrangement more conspicuously rampant. It
almost seems, in some cases, as though the owners
had copied the methodical Frenchman, who, having
received an assortment of Rose-trees of various
heights from the nursery—standards, half—standards,
and dwarfs—planted them all at the same distance

1 I recommend to those of my readers who are interested in this

subject, "The English Flower-Garden: its Style, Position, and
Arrangement.’ By W. Robinson, and others. London: J. Murray.

112 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

above the ground, that he might preserve the unities
of an even surface. Does not a dead level, bearing
the old pattern of stars and garters, generally encircle
the Rose-temple, over which the disgusted right—
minded Rose-trees always object to grow? It looks
like a dismal aviary from which the birds have flown ;
but with a little bright paint and gilding externally,
and a loud barrel-organ within, it might form a
brilliant lucrative centre-piece for a merry-go-round
at a fair.

When the Rose is grown for exhibition exclusively,
the geometrical system in its simplest form, and
minus the temple, is desirable, as being most con-
venient to him who purposely sacrifices beauty of
arrangement as regards the general appearance, the
tout ensemble, of his Rose-garden, that he may attain
perfection as to size and colour in the individual
flowers. He cannot afford space for numerous
varieties, which, lovely, distinct, and indispensable
in the general collection, are not suitable for the
exhibition stage. He admires them earnestly, but
has only room for them in his heart or with his
herbaceous plants in ‘the borders.’ He must have
all his trees so disposed that they may be readily
surveyed, approached, and handled. Specimens of
the same variety must be planted together, that he

may quickly compare and select. Time is most

 

 

 

 

MAmccuAL NIEL AT THE \‘xuhx ZIRIO, SAN Rmm.

 

ARRANGEMENT I 13

precious on the morning of a show; and returning
to the boxes with a bloom in each hand and a
couple between one’s teeth, it is a sore hindrance to
remember another tree at the farthest point of the
Rosary, which possibly carries the best bloom of all.
Taste in arrangement consists with the exhibitor in
the harmonious grouping of his cut Roses, not in
the gracefulness of his ground or of his trees. He
appeals not to the general public, but to the con-
noisseur; not to the court,1 but to the judge.

In a Rose-garden not subject to any such restraint
-—not the drill—ground of our Queen’s Body-guard,
but the holiday assemblage of Her people—mo
formalism, no flatness, no monotonous repetition
should prevail. There should the Rose be seen in
all her multiform phases of beauty. There should
be beds of Roses, banks of Roses, bowers of Roses,
hedges of Roses, edgings of Roses, pillars of Roses,
arches of Roses, fountains of Roses, baskets of Roses,
vistas and alleys of the Rose. Now overhead and
now at our feet, there they should creep and climb.
New tints, new forms, new perfumes, should meet us

at every turn. Here we come upon a bed of seed-

1 A Lancashire witness hearing words ascribed to him by a con-
ceited young barrister (with a new wig and a turned-up nose) which
he had not spoken, jumped up and wrathfully protested, ‘Why,
yer powder-yedded monkey, I never said note 0’ th’ sort—I appeal
to th’ company! ’

II

114 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

lings so full of interest and of hope. Here is the
sunny spot where we gather, like Virgil’s shepherd,

the first Rose of spring, or

‘ Rosa quo locorum
Sera moretur,’

the last of autumn. Art is here as the meek admir-
ing handmaid of Nature, gently smoothing her
beautiful hair, checking only such growth as would
weaken her flowing ringlets, but never daring to
disfigure with Shams and chignons—with pagodas,
I mean, and such like tea—garden trumpery. Art is
here to obey, but not to dictate—~40 work as one
who counts such service its own reward and honour.
If before the Fall, before the earth brought forth
brier or thorn, man was put into a garden to dress
it and to keep it, with his will and with his might
must he labour now in that plot of ground where he
fain would realise his fond idea of Eden. He must
work hard, but only as one who copies some great
masterpiece—not as one who designs, but restores.
He must keep order, but only as replacing an
arrangement which he has himself disturbed. Thus
and thus only he may hope to make himself a

garden

‘ Where order in variety we see,
And where, though all things differ, all‘ agree.’

ARRANGEMENT 115

Were it my privilege to lay out an extensive Rose-
garden, I should desire a piece of broken natural
ground, surrounded on all sides but the south with
sloping banks, ‘green and of mild declivity,’ on which
evergreen shrubs should screen and beautify by
contrast the Roses blooming beneath; and in the
centre I should have, at irregular intervals, Rose-clad
mounds high enough to obstruct the View even of
Arba, great among the Anakims, which would enable
me to surprise, to vary, and to conceal, according to
the golden rule which I have before quoted. On the
level from which these mounds arose would be the
beds and single specimens ; at the corners my bowers
and nooks. All the interior space not occupied by
Roses should be turf—‘ nothing,’ writes Lord Bacon,
‘is more pleasant to the eye than green grass kept
finely shorn’——and this always broad enough for the
easy operations of the mowing-machine, and for the
ample robes (although the Queen of Flowers is
graciously pleased to dispense with trains, when
ladies attend her receptions) of those bright visitors,
the only beings upon earth more beautiful than the
Rose itself.

And who can be jealous? Who can grudge them
the universal homage which, even in the queenly
presence, they always claim and win? More than

once, I must confess, has a remonstrance risen to my

116 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

lips which I have not dared to utter. I remember
sitting on a summer’s eve contemplating my Roses in
the soft light of the setting sun, and in the society
of a sentimental friend, more than ever sentimental
because a daughter of the gods, divinely fair, had
just left us for the house. We sat still and pensive,
until at last I broke a long silence with the
involuntary exclamation, ‘Aren’t they lovely?’
‘Lovely!’ he replied; ‘I lzaz‘e ’em. She called that
Duc de Rohan a duck, and that Senna Tea Vaisse,
or whatever his name is’ (he knew it as well as I did),
‘a darling. I tell you what, old fellow, if either of
these worthies could appear in the flesh, there is
nothing in the world I should like so much as a té'te-
d—z‘éz‘e with him in a 24-foot ring. I flatter myself
that I could favour him with a facer which he couldn’t
obtain in France. As for that General Jacqueminot,
shouldn’t I like to meet him in action ’—here he
pulled his moustache fiercely—‘ and to roll him over
on Rupert?’ (his charger). I bade him light a weed
and hope; but he didn’t seem to relish hoping.
Towards the end of the next summer he came to
see me again, with the daughter of the gods in his
brougharn, and, on the opposite side, in the lap of its
nurse, a new ‘duck,’ far dearer to his bride than any
rosebud on earth.

The inner walks should be grass, but there must

ARRANGEMENT 117

be an outer promenade of gravel, smooth and dry for
the thinnest boots, when the turf is damp with rain
or dew.

I would have the approaches to a Rosary made
purposely obscure and narrow, that the visitor may
come with a sudden gladness and wonder upon the
glowing scene, as the traveller by rail emerges from
the dark tunnel into the brightness of day and a fair
landscape; or, as some dejected whist-player finds, at
the extremity of wretched cards, the ace, king, and
queen of trumps! I should like to conduct the
visitors to my Rosarium between walls of rock-work,
thickly set with those unassuming but exquisite
Alpine plants, of which my friend, Mr Robinson, to
whose book on Arrangement I just now referred, has
given us such a complete and charming history,1
or through high fern-covered banks; and, by a
sudden turn at the end of our avenue, to dazzle him
into an ecstasy. He should feel as Kane the
explorer did, when after an Arctic winter he saw the
sun shine once more, and ‘felt as though he were
bathing in perfumed waters.’

Although water offered itself in a fair running
stream for introduction into the Rose-garden, I should

hesitate timidly as to its admission. Charming as it

1 ‘Alpine Flowers.’ London: Murray.

II8 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

would be to see the Roses reflected, like Narcissus, in
such a mirror—to muse upon beauty, like Plato
beneath the planes which grew by the waters of
Ilissus—we should simultaneously strengthen the
cruel power of our fiercest enemy, frost. Let us
content ourselves with cisterns for soft water, with
pumps, syringes, and guttapercha tubes.

I must not finish my harangue on arrangement
until I have answered a question often asked, ‘Where
the space devoted to Roses is too limited for the
diversity of forms in which the Rose may be grown,
w/zat form do you consider t/ze best?’ There can be
no debate nor doubt in replying, ‘ The most attractive,
abundant, and abiding system upon which you can
grow Roses, is to plant them in beds (remembering
all I have said about soil and situation), upon their
own roots, or budded upon dwarf stocks (1 will tell
you which is best by and by), and then to treat them
thus :—Plant in November, and, in the following
summer, promote all possible growth. In the ensuing
spring, the long, strong shoots, only shortened 4 or 5
inches (all weakly produce being excised), must be
very gently and gradually bent down to earth, and
secured with thick wooden hooks, cut from the trees
and hedgerows, two or three to each lateral branch.
These branches will not only flower early and late,

but, if well treated, will make robust wood in the

ARRANGEMENT I 19

summer and autumn, which (the older branches being
removed) will be pegged down in the following
spring; and so we shall have annually a continuous
renovation. It is difficult to deflect some of sturdy
growth, such as the Baroness Rothschild; but he
will touch tenderly who loves truly, and his unhappy
fractures will be few. In two years these beds
will be densely covered with flowers and foliage;
and the contrasted beauty of La France and
Lefebvre, Marie Finger and Marie Beauman, Mer-
veille de Lyons and Louis Van Houtte, Mrs.
Marguerite Dickson and Xavier Olibo, Duke of
Wellington and Madame Gabriel Luizet, will dazzle
the eye and bewilder the brain of the fondest of all
lovers—of him who loves the Rose.

This method of growing Roses might be amplified
to any extent by those who had the desire and the
means, beds being planted not only with mixed
varieties for contrast, but with a dozen or score plants
of the same Rose. Were these tastefully arranged
and carefully tended, we should have a Rose-garden
as attractive to the general visitor as it would be
interesting to the student, and convenient to the
exhibitor of Roses; but this process is tedious, requir-
ing a constant supervision; and, where there is not
time for a watchful and frequent manipulation, it will

be wiser to abstain from the system of pegging, and

120 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

to grow dwarf roses in beds of mixed, or the same,
varieties, placing those of most robust habit in the
centre, and pruning accordingly}

Let us now consider, collectively and individually,
the various families of this our royal flower, that we
may invite those members whom we may esteem

most worthy to be guests at our feast of Roses.

1 I have seen dwarf Rosetrees efl’eelively trained on wires stretched
over the beds, but it seems disloyal to bind our Queen in chains, and

her nobles in links of iron.

CHAPTER VIII
SELECTION

TAKE a hot schoolboy into a fruiterer’s shop, where
the cheeks of the peach and the Quarrenden pippin
are glowing like his own, where the bloom still
lingers upon grape and plum, and where the ‘Good
Christian’ pear of Williams (would that all who
assure us of their sanctity were as free from sourness,
as fruitful and refreshing!) yields to his inquiring
thumb. Bid him survey the scene, a pomological
Selkirk, and then proceed to fruition. Or take young
Philippos, a few years older, to some great mart of
horses. Introduce him to the proprietor, with his
pleasant smiling face, ruddy (from early rising, doubt-
less), his cheek and chin close—shaven (few men
nowadays shave so closely), hair clipped like his
horses’, fox galloping over bird’s-eye neckerchief,
cut-away coat with gilt buttons, and drab adhesive
pants. Let him hear how this generous, guileless
man has collected, without regard to toil or money,

the best horses in all Europe, solely for the pleasure
121

122 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

of distributing them at nominal prices among his
favourites and friends. Oh, ecstasy! ‘the young
gentleman’ is permitted to know that he is himself a
member of that blissful band—a Knight of Arthur’s
Table, The good dealer has ‘just such another
young un of his own,’ and will forthwith exhibit
to his counterpart a splendid series of steeds, on
which his lad has won the principal steeplechases,
and led the clippingest runs of the season. How
their coats shine as the neat clothing glides smoothly
from their glossy quarters! How they snort as they
leave their stalls! How proudly they elevate (I
disdain that puny monosyllable, cock) their trim—cut,
well-combed tails ; and how genially the good dealer
whispers to the young gentleman, with a kindly
nudge and wink, ‘That’s about all you’ll let the field
see of him, if you buys him, and gets a start!’ And
suppose at this juncture you also whisper in the other
car, ‘Try them, and take your choice.’

Or go with his pretty sister to some jeweller’s
glittering store. Let him display to eyes far brighter
than his diamonds, and with a tender grace of
manipulation which tells how costly is his ware,
casket after casket of lustrous gems. Then invite
her to select her mile. Or take her to some gay
emporium, repository, lounge, bazaar, or mart—woe

to the man who shall cry ‘shop’ therein, for fifty

SELECTION 123

pairs of angry scissors would find swift way to his
heart l—where, behind acres of plate-glass, and upon
miles of counter, the rich thick silk stands up in
pyramids, and the delicate aristocratic satin gleams
like an opal. Ask the shopman (I beg pardon, the
employés, or the az'des-dc—camp, or whatever may be
their modern title 1) to educe their newest, most
rec/zercké robes, and beseech of Venus to choose.

Will there not be in these cases a delicious
perplexity, an ecstasy of amazement, an embarrass-
ment of riches? Imagine to yourself this happy
hesitation, and you will know something of my
present sweet-uncertainty. How am I to begin my
selection of Roses P It seems as though, gazing upon
an illuminated city, I was asked to point out the
brightest candles ; as though, where fireflies gleamed
by the million, and humming-birds glowed by the
thousand, I was ordered to transfix with the entomo-
logical pin the brightest specimens of the one, and
to adjust upon the ornithological wires the most
exquisite examples of the other.

As to any scientific arrangement, ethnological,
genealogical, or physiological classification, I am

helplessly, hopelessly incapable. I have as ‘poor

1 A lady, calling to rectify a mistake at one of our great magasz'm [es
modes, was asked, ‘ Was it a. tall gentleman with a dark moustache
who was with you?" and replied, ‘No; it was a stout nobleman,
about five feet high, with a squint.’

124 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

brains’ for these studies as Cassio for strong drinks.
The very words make my head ache, and I long to
break them up, as one breaks up, in wintry days,
some big black coal with a poker. ‘I am no
botanist,’ as the young Oxonian pleaded to the
farmer who reproved him for riding over wheat. I
confess that I failed miserably in an attempt to
understand the rudiments of his science, as set forth
in Dr. Lindley’s ‘School Botany.’ I honour him, but
I do not envy, because, strange as it may seem, he is
very rarely an enthusiastic gardener; because I never
remember to have seen a scientific botanist and a
successful practical florist under the same hat.
Wherefore I am content, when I put on my own, to
confess meekly that it covers a skull void and empty
of scientific treasures, but the property, I trust, of a
true gardener.

But how am I to begin with the Roses? I fancy
that I hear a hiss or two, a shuffling of impatient
shoes, as when too much preliminary fiddling goes on
before the play. And here, positively, in the very
crisis and nick of time, my doubt is dissolved; the
knot is cut €er Suptp rvxns, upon the razor-edge of good
luck, and by an incident which sounds like a miracle.
T 126 Rose ma/ces answerfiu' z'z‘sc/f Yes, biting my
quill, and beginning to think that the more I bite the

nearer I draw to the stupidity of the bird which grew

SELECTION 125

it, I hear an intermittent tapping on the panes of
a window near. I am not startled, because this
identical tapping has been going on for a good many
years, whenever winds are high: but as I look up
and see the cause, it seems to bring new sounds to
my ears-——a spirit raps distinctly on the glass, ‘Begz'n
wit/z us, the
CLIMBING ROSEs.’

I obey at once the legate of my Queen. I lose no
time in stating that the best Climbing Rose with
which I am acquainted is that which has just
announced itself, Gloire de Dijon, commonly classed
with the Tea—scented China Roses, but more closely
resembling the Noisette family in its robust growth
and hardy constitution. Planted against a wall
having a southern or eastern aspect, it grows, when
once fairly established, with a wonderful luxuriance.
I have just measured a lateral on one of my trees,
and of the last year’s growth, and found it to be 19
feet in length, and the bole of another tree at the
base to be nearly 10 inches in circumference. The
latter grows on the chancel-wall of my church, and
has often had three hundred flowers upon it in full
and simultaneous bloom; nor will the reader desire
to arraign me for superstitious practices before a
judicial committee when he hears that to this Rose

I make daily obeisance, because in passing into my

126 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

church I must duck to preserve my eyesight.1 The
two trees alluded to are on their own roots, but the
Rose thrives stoutly on the Brier and the Manetti,
budded and grafted, wherever Roses grow. Its
flowers are the earliest and latest; it has symmetry,
size, endurance, colour (five tints are given to it
in the Rose catalogues—buff, yellow, orange, fawn,
salmon, and it has them all), and perfume. It is
what cricketers call an ‘all-rounder,’ good in every
point for wall, arcade, pillar, standard, dwarf, en
masse, or as a single tree. It is easy to cultivate out
of doors and in. It forces admirably, and you may
have it, almost in its summer beauty, when Christmas
snows are on the ground. With half-a-dozen pots of
it carefully treated, and half-a-dozen trees in your
garden, you may enjoy it all the year round; and if
ever, for some heinous crime, I were miserably
sentenced, for the rest of my life, to possess but a
single Rose-tree, I should desire to be supplied, on
leaving the dock, with a strong plant of Gloire de
Dijon.

1 This tree passed through a severe ordeal, during the restora‘
tion of my church. As it was necessary to rebuild the greater part
of the wall on which it grew, I dared not hope its preservation;
but the architect, Mr. Christian, was an admirer of Roses, and the
clerk of the works, Mr. Dick, was an admirer of Roses, and under

their auspices the dear old favourite was carefully removed from the

stonework, protected by a temporary wooden case, and finally replaced
in safety.

SELECTION 127

As to treatment, although this Rose, like some
thoroughbred horse, will do its work with little
grooming and scanty fare, it well repays that
generous diet which I have previously prescribed.
In pruning, take away all weakly wood, and you
may then deal with the strong as you please. If
you want to increase the height of your tree, ‘cut
boldly,’ as said the Augur, and low. If you desire .
short flowering laterals, you may have them, a
dozen on a shoot, or from as many ‘eyes’ as you
like to leave on it.

There are two Roses, I am well aware—two
sisters of this same ‘most divinely tall’ family—
more beautiful, if you compare the individual flowers,
than that which I have preferred before them. When
we held our third National Rose Show in the Crystal
Palace at Sydenham—the first of those exhibitions
which have since been so popular in that grand
creation of a gardener’s genius—I remember that
some of us were made almost angry by the excessive
share of admiration received by one of these Roses.
An anxious eager crowd jumped and jostled to get
a View of it, reckless of each other’s corns. I heard
a remark from one visitor to another, a short man
behind him, who seemed, I must say, about to
clamber up the speaker’s back,——‘ Pardon me, sir,

but may I remind you that we are not playing

128 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

at leap—frog?’ What were they all struggling to
see? There were long lines of lovely Rosesuwhy
this pressure always at this special spot? It was
just as when, in our Royal Academy, and on the
first days of exhibition, the visitors all make for
one particular corner, because there hangs, so the
Times has told them, the picture of the year; or as
when, so eye—witnesses say, the ladies at a Drawing-
Room, apprehensive that Her Majesty is about to
appoint a Royal Deputy, press towards the Throne
Room, with a vigorous zeal, which, while it suggests
great physical power and rnental purpose in their
descendants, is hardly consistent with the graceful
dignity, the unselfish courtesy and forbearance
which we assOciate with noble and gentle birth.
There is a manifestation of obtrusive vigour, which
would quickly evoke in an ordinary crowd the angry
protest, ‘Now, 7122195113, w/zcre be you a-s/zow'ng? ’
And what was flat Rose? It was Cloth—of—Gold
Noisette—a box of it, sent by Mr. \V. Cant, from
the neighbourhood of Colchcster. \Vell, the most
jealous could not dispute its supreme beauty. It
was certainly the belle of the ball. In its integrity,
it is, I believe, the most glorious of all Roses. No
true Rosarian ever forgets the first perfect bloom
he sees of it. ‘ Even at this distance of time,’ writes
Mr. Rivers in 1867, ‘I have not forgotten the delight

SELECTION 129

I felt on seeing this Rose in full bloom at Angers
in 1843. Its flowers were like large golden bells.’
So I saw it in May 1880, growing in all its abundant
beauty in the gardens of the ‘ Riviera; one plant,
for example, which, having climbed to the top of
a high chestnut tree, was flowering here, there,
and everywhere, amid the branches, in the grounds
of the Villa Cessoles, near Nice. Why, then, have
I not given it precedence? Simply because, were
such a compliment offered, the Rose would scarcely
ever be there to receive it. Because in this climate
it is so rarely realised, that I do not remember to
have seen it, in perfection, more than three or four
times in my life. Puny personifications, and dread-
ful imbecilities arrogating the name, I have met
with frequently; but the grand gold goblet, to hold
nectar for the gods, is seen but on state occasions
—a chalice for the coronation of kings. It is a
‘shy bloomer,’ ‘wants a warm wall,’ ‘good for the
conservatory,’ they tell us who know it best. And
yet (so capricious is beauty) I once saw noble
specimens of this flower upon the walls of a cottage
five miles from my home; and the gentleman to
whom the cottage belonged was never, I believe,
more happy than when he came to dine with me,
wearing in his coat a huge bud which he had

begged from his tenant, and which resembled in
I

130 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

size the egg of a turkey, or rather, in my eyes,
of a roc.

Alas! this tree perished years ago. Its fate was
the common lot of its race—t0 be cut down by cruel
frosts. And yet I would advise amateurs to do as
I do, persevere in growing it. One year’s harvest
Will be recompense enough for the ploughing and
sowing of a decade. If other Roses boast of their
fecundity, this may answer, as the queen of beasts
to the fox, ‘My children are few, but they are Zions.’
Try it on a south wall; try it on verandah and
arcade (1 have seen it flowering freely on the latter) ;
try it budded on the Céline Hybrid Bourbon, which
is also most congenial for Climbing Devoniensis;
try it on the Banksian and Manetti stocks; try it
on its own roots, protecting it during the winter
months with some good thick surface-dressing. I
do not recommend matting, or other material, which
keeps light and air from the plant. A sickly un-
natural growth is often caused thereby, which renders
the plant more powerless than ever to resist its
enemies—insects and vernal frost.

Rose No. 2 is Maréchal Niel. Since the time
when, a baby in fioriculture, I first began to ‘take
notice’ of Roses, more than thirty years ago, three
new stars of special brightness have glittered in our

firmament—Gloire de Dijon, Charles Lefebvre, and

SELECTION I31

Maréchal Niel. The latter is, I think, the greatest
acquisition, because we had, previous to its intro-
duction, no hardy Yellow Rose, realising, as this
does—in the wonderful beauty of its pendant flowers,
which should be seen from below, their size, shape,
colour, fragrance, longevity, abundance, in the ampli-
tude of its glossy leaves and the general habit of
the plant—our every desire and hope. We possessed
some approximation to Gloire de Dijon in our Tea
and Noisette Roses. Charles Lefebvre was a de-
velopment of General Jacqueminot, even as the
General had been an improvement on' Géant des
Batailles; but of a hardy Golden Rose, more precious
and more welcome a thousand times than those
Golden Roses which popes have sent to favoured
kings, we saw no harbinger. The beautiful old
Yellow Provence was all but extinct. I have never
seen it, except in the gardens of Burleigh—‘ Burleigh
House by Stamford town.’ The few splendid petals
of the Persian Yellow only increased our sacra
fame: auri—the egg-cup made us long for the
tankard of gold. Solfaterre had not depth of colour,
and its flowers were faulty in shape; Cloth-of-Gold
was not meant to be worn out of doors, and was
quickly tarnished by rough weather; and even the
Maréchal’s own mother, Isabella Gray, had dis-
played such feeble charms that no one mourned

I32 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

her sterility. Suddenly, unexpectedly she produced
a paragon.

Thus I wrote in the former editions of my book,
and then gave as my reason for not awarding to
the Maréchal precedence over all other Climbing
Roses, the fact that he had not as yet passed the
ordeal of one of our severest winters. In common
with many other Rosarians, I thought that he was
perfectly hardy; but I resolved to abide by the
invariable rule, which I have ever observed in writing
about Roses, to make no statements on hearsay or
at hazard, but those only which I had proved to be
true. A sorrowful experience has since confirmed
the prudence of that resolution. In the spring—tide
of the year 1871, I gazed, a sadder and a wiser man,
upon the black branches of my best alfresco speci-
mens, and Maréchal Niel was as lifeless as Maréchal
Ney. And in the summer of 1877 I found, upon
some thirty trees, but few perfect specimens, all being
more or less injured by the frosts of early spring.

What Rose, do you think, shall I plant in his
place? The nearest resemblance to his living self
on which I can lay my hands. ‘And the grounds,’
you ask sarcastically, ‘of this love for corpses?’
The grounds, stern censor, are these: The trees
which were injured had not sufficient protection;

and though my hope is gone of pronouncing this

SELECTION I33

glorious Rose to be peifectly hardy, I feel sure that
if the roots are well covered by manure during the
winter, and if the weather be very severe the upper
growth be screened by a few branches of fir or fronds
of the common bracken, we may preserve it always
from fatal injury, and almost always from any injury
whatever. If it dies after all, even then I should
say, "Tis better to have loved and lost, than never
to have loved at all.’

As to the best method of growing this variety,
there seemed to be at first some hesitation among
our Rose—merchants as to the propriety of a union
between such delicate beauty and that rough, wild
vagabond, the jolly Dog-Rose; and it was ‘sent out ’
generally budded or grafted upon the Manetti, or
recently struck on its own roots, about the size of a
toothpick. We have since discovered that, as fair
damsels love stalwart knights, this Rose grows and
blooms most vigorously when budded or grafted (in
either case so low that the Rose itself may ultimately
be covered by the soil and root in it) upon the Brier.1
This is the best stock for it, so far as my experience
goes; but there is another with which it mates most
happily, and of this I had last season a somewhat

1 It is, nevertheless, a melancholy fact that when Maréchal Niel is
budded on the standard Brier, and thrives upon it, the Rose will
ultimately outgrow the stock, a large excrescence will be formed at
the point of juncture, and here a fatal decay will begin.

134 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

curious proof. Be it known, then, and apropos of
mates, that the lady whom, on an interesting occa-
sion, I endowed with all my worldly goods, does
not avail herself of my matrimonial munificence
with regard to my show Roses, but contents herself
during the exhibition season with the produce of
certain trees exclusively appropriated to her. One
morning toward the end of May, I listened with
amused incredulity to her announcement that she
‘had just cut a beautiful bloom of the Maréchal’;
and being perfectly sure that there was no tree of
that variety in her collection, and no expanded
flower on my own, I ventured to ask, with affec-
tionate sarcasm,\vhich of her plants had distinguished
itself for life by this grand supernatural victory?
The prompt answer was—-‘Gloire de Dijon: go to
my room and look!’ I went, expecting to see
some abnormal specimen of the flower, and I found
in all its loveliness Maréchal Niel! Thence to the
branch from which it came, and then the mystery
was explained. I had mentioned to my gardener,
in the preceding summer, some remarks which I had
read from Mr. Rivers, the younger, recommending
the Gloire as a stock for the Maréchal. He had
tried the recipe, as I now advise my readers to try
it, and had first perplexed and then pleased me with

the prompt success of his enterprise.

SELECTION 135

The Banksian Rose is also a most genial stock
for the Maréchal ; and if any of my readers are the
happy proprietors of the former, under glass, I advise
them by all means to bud the latter upon it. La
Belle Lyonnaise, Madame Berard, Reine Marie
Henriette, and Réve d’Or, daughters of Gloire de
Dijon, but with distinctive charms, are attractive
Climbing Roses; and Lamarque, the parent of
Cloth—of-Gold, well deserves a place on some sunny
wall, growing very rapidly, and being one of the
earliest Roses to charm us with its refined and
graceful flowers. These are large and full, the outer
petals of a soft pure white, the inner of a pale straw-
colour.

The Roses which I haVe just described are as
capable of climbing as Jack’s Beanstalk; indeed, it
may be said that Roses generaléy may be induced to
elimé, if planted in rich soil against a wall, facing
south or east. In such a sunny site, the develop-
ment of the tree, once thoroughly established and
settled down to its work, is marvellous. Not so
rapid, of course, nor so extensive in longitude or
latitude, as with the more nomad and wandering
tribes, but such as to astonish those Rosarians who
have only seen a less favoured growth, and to satisfy
in time almost any requirements as to the space

which has to be covered. In half-a-dozen summers

I36 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

many of the Hybrid Bourbon, Hybrid China, and
Gallican Roses will reach the eaves of an ordinary
dwelling, as I have proved with Charles Lawson
and with Coupe d’Hébé; and in a decade the side
of a good-sized house might be decorated with such
a grower as Blairii 2. The bloom is early, ample,
and magnificent; but as it is brief, and there is no
aftermath, I would only advise these Roses to be
introduced where mural space is superabundant.

Climbing Victor Verdier, introduced by Mr. Paul
of Cheshunt, has mounted the wall of my gardener’s
house to the height of 12 feet, and blooms beauti-
fully.1 Many others of the Hybrid Perpetuals
would also, I am assured, by the experiments which
I have made, attain grand proportions if‘ugrown
upon walls; but the best of all red Climbing Roses
is ,Cheshunt Hybrid, with its large, glossy foliage,
and its glowing, well—formed flowers. Souvenir de
la Malmaison, Bourbon, also spreads itself high and
wide upon a southern wall. In all these cases I
should prefer to plant Rose-trees upon their own
roots, if I could have them strong and clean: in the
last case, Souvenir de la Malmaison, this condition
is inseparable from a successful issue.

1 Climbing Captain Christy, N iphetos, and Perle des Jardins are also

great acquisitions, but I find that in several instances these ‘sports ’
are inclined, so far as growth is concerned, to ‘revert to type.’

SELECTION 137

Even the varieties of those Tea-scented Roses
which have been thought too delicate for .outdoor
culture, will in many instances follow the example
of William Allen Richardson and l’Ide’al, and will
make robust growth when placed against a warm
wall and mulched in winter. I had a plant of
Souvenir d’un Ami, 7 feet in height, in which a
thrush built her nest and safely reared her young.

It must, however, be. borne in mind, that in the
majority of cases there is neither the place nor the
patience for these specimens. Climbing Roses-are
required, as a rule, to do their work quickly; and
we will therefore proceed to consider those varieties
which have been selected by the Rose—merchants,
and p \posed to us in their catalogues, for this
purpose—the Ayrshire, the Evergreen, the Banksian,
the Boursault, and others.

The Ayrshire and Evergreen Roses—it should be
Evergreen, 2f t/ze weat/zer permit—have many claims
upon our grateful admiration. If we have an ugly,
red-faced, staring wall, which seems to glory in its
ugliness, they will 'hide its deformities more quickly
than any other Rose or any other creeper (unless
it be the Amphilopsis, and this is deciduous) with
which I have acquaintance. Only give them a good
start, as you give an Irishman ‘jist a hint’ of whisky

before you send him on an errand; and, however

I38 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

adverse the position or the aspect, off they go like
lamp-lighters. With their shining leaves, and their
pretty clusters of white, pink—tinted flowers, they will
flourish where no others can grow—in the waste
places of the earth, in damp, dismal corners, under
trees, and up them, if you wish. Upon the blank
wall of two new rooms, having a western aspect,
I planted ‘Rampant,’ scmpcrw'rezzs. Owing to the
proximity of another wall and of intermediate
shrubs, he was only gladdened occasionally with
a few kindly smiles from the setting sun; and
though I gave him plentifully good soil and good
manure, I left him hoping against hope. The first
year he did little. I thought he was dying in his
dreary dungeon, but he was only planning his escape;
and out he bolted the next summer, making shoots
like salmon-rods, some more than 20 feet long.
‘Rampant’ must have had adult baptism, and was
well named by his sponsors, always reminding one
of a Lancashire anecdote, how a poor client waited
upon one Lawyer Cheek of Manchester, with a long
bill in his hand, and sighed, as he put down the
brass on the table, ‘They dunna call thee Cheek for
nought.’

Other members of these two families are alike
successful in surmounting hardships—6.3:, among

the Ayrshires, Dundee Rambler, Queen of Belgians,

 

 

Amsmmc Rosus ;\'l‘ KICW.

   

 

SELECTION I39

Ruga (with‘ its faint odour of the ancestral Tea,
which intermarried, it is said, with the Roses of
Ayr), and Thoresbyana—raised, a few miles from
my home, at Thoresby ; and among the Evergreens,
Adelaide d’Orleans, F élicité Perpetuelle (who would
not desire to have a Rose so named upon his house P),
Myrianthes, and Longfield Rambler.

These Roses are alsomost appropriate for covering
bowers in the Rosarium, or arched entrances leading
to it. They are very effective upon the banks and
slopes which I have recommended at page 113,
flooding them, as it were, with a white cascade of
Roses; and budded upon tall standards of the Brier,
they may be soon trained into Weeping Roses—into
fountains of leaves and flowers.

Would that Burns had gazed and written upon the
lovely little Banksian Rose! He would not have
esteemed the wee modest daisy one iota the less—he
was too true a florist for that; but he would have
painted for us in musical words a charming portrait
of this pocket, or rather button-hole, Venus—this
petite wig/1072726, which, singly, would make a glorious
bouquet for Queen Mab’s coachman, or, 672 groupe, a
charming wreath for a doll’s wedding, such as I
remember to have attended once in my childhood,
when, lzorrz'bz'le dz'ctu ! the bride upon her way to the

altar fell prone from our rocking-horse (a nuptial

140 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

grey), and broke her bridal nose. The Banksian
Rose is, indeed,

‘A miniature of loveliness, all grace
Summed up and closed in little ;’

and both the yellow and white varieties—the latter
having a sweet perfume, as though it had just
returned from avisit to the violet—should be in
every collection of mural Roses. The plants should
be on their own roots, and those roots should be well
protected during the winter months. It cannot be
warranted perfectly hardy, but will; amfzzl nude/zing
there is scarcely one frost in a lifetime which will kill
it. It may be injured even to the ground, but it will
come up again with wondrous rapidity.

Under favourable circumstances, the growth of this
Rose is most luxuriant. A French writer on Roses
tells us of a tree at Toulon which covered a wall 75
feet in breadth and I 5 to 18 in height, and which had
fifty thousand flowers in simultaneous bloom; and
there are specimens in our own gardens and con-
servatories which repress any unbelief in those who
have not seen the lovely luxuriance with which it
grows in sunnier climes. There is neither height nor
width of masonry which it cannot surmount and
cover; and when you see it, as I have seen it, inter-
mixed with Bozzgaz'zwz'llm spectabz'lz‘s, and with the

branches of the Judas-tree, and blending its golden

SELECTION I41

glories with their crimson and roseate sheen, you get
some idea what the writer means who talks about
being ‘drunk with beauty.’ The trees should be
pruned when they have flowered in summer, so that
a fresh growth of laterals may be well ripened before
winter, and bloom in the ensuing spring.1

Rather more than twenty years ago, Mr. Fortune
sent over a batch of Climbing Roses from China,
and from one of them, named Fortune’s Yellow, great
expectations rose. It was described by a Rosarian
at Seven Oaks as being ‘nearly as rampant as the
old Ayrshire, quite hardy, covered from the middle
of May with large loose flowers of every shade—~—
between a rich reddish-buff and a full coppery pink
—and rambling over a low wall, covering it on both
sides, about 20 feet wide, and 5 feet high.’ Mr.
Fortune himself described it as most striking in its
own country, with flowers ‘yellowish-salmon, and

)

bronze-like; but it has not as yet received in
England the attention which it deserves, as one of
the most attractive and abundant of Roses. They
who have seen it as it is grown at Blenheim and
elsewhere, will not be happy until they have planted
it on a southern wall. With this aspect, and with
a surface protection from the frost, it is hardy in the

1 Upon the Banksian Rose, once established, other Roses, of the
Tea and Noisette families, may be successfully budded.

142 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Midland Counties, and has been flourishing for many
years on my house at Caunton.

The Boursault Rose is called, from its habitat,
Rosa A/pz'na, and, when once established in con-
genial site and soil, has an agility in climbing which
entitles to membership in the Alpine Club. The
old crimson Amadis is very beautiful when the
evening sun is low, and the soft light rests upon
its glowing flowers, and the blush variety is large and
lovely (albeit the floral cottager was right who told
me that he ‘considered them Roses flat/1677’); but
Ichabod is soon written on flower and leaf, and the
habit of growth is anything but graceful, ‘Gracilis’
itself forming no exception. They may be trained
both to climb and droop. But there are better
Roses, and therefore they are disappearing from My
list: (as fair ladies do when no combatant wears
their glove in his helmet); and I sigh to count the
happy, happy years which are gone since I laid
‘the Garland,’ as an Immortelle, upon the tomb
of ‘Madame D’Arblay.’

Most beautiful of the mural Roses are some of
those varieties which are classified as Hybrid Bourbon
and Hybrid China, such as Blairii 2, Charles Lawson,
Coupe d’Hébé, Paul Perras, and Paul Ricaut, de-
scribed in the succeeding Chapter. Their longitude
and latitude, their abundant and lovely blooms, their

SELECTION 143

large and glossy leaves, suppress our regrets that
these Roses have not the symmetry or the endurance
which is required for exhibition, and that their
efflorescence is as brief as it is beautiful.

The more recent and distinct additions to our
Climbing Roses, which have been welcomed with our
grateful admiration, are William Allen Richardson,
classified as a Noisette, of vigorous habit (though it is
wise to mulch the ground over its roots in Winter),
and producing an abundance of lovely Roses, the
central petals being in colour a deep orange or
apricot yellow, and the outer white (‘ Oh, mama,’
said a child as she saw them, ‘look at the poached
eggsl’); and the other is a Japanese Rose intro-
duced by Mr. Turner of Slough, named ‘Crimson
Rambler,’ a most vigorous grower, making shoots I 5
feet in length; and these producing a profusion of
rich crimson flowers in clusters, with glossy foliage,
to be ordered by all Rosarians.

L’Idéal is a most attractive Rose, with its novel
and distinct hues of yellow and red, but I and others
have found this ideal very difficult to realise, and

‘ If she be not fair for me,
What care I how fair she be?’

CHAPTER IX
SELECTION——(colztz'1mcd)

DESCENDING now from roscate heights, and ere
we reach the perfumed plains below, we must

halt to gaze upon our
PILLAR ROSES,

some rising singly here and there, like the proud
standards of victorious troops; some meeting in
graceful conjunction, saluting each other like our
forefathers and foremothers in the stately minuet
—bowing themselves like tall and supple cavaliers,
into arches of courtesy, with keystones of cocked
hats. In both phases these Pillar Roses are beautiful
additions to the Rosarium, enabling us, like the
Rose-mounds previously commended, to enliven,
with a pleasing diversity, that level which is
described as dead. But with reference to the first,
I must offer to amateurs a respectful caution—that
to grow single specimens in isolated positions,

where they will invite, and ought to satisfy, special
144

SELECTION I45

criticism, knowledge of habit, and experience in
pruning, will be indispensable. Melancholy results
must inevitably ensue from ignorance or inatten-
tion; and I have shuddered to see examples of
both in long lanky trees, without any lateral
shoots, flowerless and leafless for three-fourths of
their height, reminding one of those shorn disgusting
poodles, profanely termed by their proprietors
‘lions,’ as they stand upon their execrable hind
legs to beg. But not upon them—not upon the
helpless object—but on the barbarous owner, we
must expend our noble rage; upon those who have
brought innocent loveliness to the whipping-post,
or rather the pillory, and compelled her to look
the words which St. Simeon Stylites moaned—

‘ Patient on this tall pillar I have borne
Rain, wind, frost, heat, hail, damp, and sleet, and snow.’

The best plan of growing these Roses, which a
long experience has taught me, is this: To prepare
and enrich your soil as I have advised in Chapters
VI. and VII., and then to fix firmly therein the
pillar which is to support the trees. Of what
material is this pillar to be ?—wood or iron? The
former commends itself to the eye (and the pocket)
at once; and I well remember the satisfaction with

which I surveyed an early experiment with larch
K

146 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

poles, the lower part well charred and tarred, and
driven deep into the ground, and looking from the
first so very rustic and natural. The Rose-trees
grew luxuriantly, and for three or four summers I
esteemed myself invincible in the game of pyramids.
Then one night there came heavy rain, attended
by a hurricane, and when I went out next morning,
two of my best trees were lying flat upon the ground,
with their roots exposed (the poles, having decayed
near the surface, had snapped suddenly) ; and several
others were leaning like the tower at Pisa or the
spire of Chesterfield Church, some hopelessly dis-
placed, and others deformed and broken. Fallen,
and about to fall, they looked as though their
liquid manure had been mixed too strong for them,
and had made them superlatively drunk. Shortly
afterwards I had another disaster, caused by a
similar decay—the top of a pole, in which two
iron arches met each other, giving way to a
boisterous wind, and so causing a divorcement
between Brennus and Adelaide d’Orleans, long and
lovingly united. I would therefore advise, not
dwelling upon other disadvantages resulting from
the use of wood—such as the production of fungi,
and the open house which it provides for insects—-
that the supports for Pillar Roses be of iron.
Neatly made and painted, tastefully and sparingly

SELECTION I47

posed, they are never unsightly; and, enduring as
long as the trees themselves, they will in the end
repay that first outlay which makes them, for some
time, an expensive luxury.

The height and thickness of these single rods
will be determined by the position to be occupied,
from 5 to 8 feet above the ground being the most
common altitudes, and the circumference varying
from 1% to 3 inches. Below the surface, their tripod
prongs must be deeply and securely fixed from
I foot to 18 inches in the soil, so as to bear any
weight of flowers and foliage, and defy all the
royal artillery of onlus. For arches, the rods may
be 7 or 8 feet from the ground, and 8 or 9 feet
apart.

The ground and supports being prepared, a
selection may be made from the list subjoined of
varieties, vigorous and beautiful (as the recruiting—
sergeant picks out for the Guards the more robust
examples of humanity); and these, whether on
their own roots or worked upon Brier or Manetti
stocks, according to their habit and the character
of the soil, should be planted in November, and
safely tied to their rods. Tarred twine is the best
material for the latter purpose, being cheap, durable,
and to be had in different thicknesses, according
to the strength required. Prune closely in the

I48 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

following March, removing three-fourths of your
wood, so as to insure a grand growth in the
summer, which, moderately shortened in the suc-
ceeding spring, should furnish your pillar, from
soil to summit, with flowering lateral shoots. By
the time your tree has attained the dimensions
required, your observation will have taught you
how, for the future, to prune it so that you may
be sure of an annual bloom, cutting away all
weakly wood, and regulating the general growth
with an eye both to form and florescence. As
with a vine, if you only put a strong cane into a
rich border, and use the knife courageously, you
may be sure of grapes.

As single specimens of Pillar Roses, the following
may be tried with confidence :—

Amza Alcxz'rfil free in growth, in foliage, and flowers—the
latter of a fresh pure rose-colour, which makes the tree
very distinct and charming.

Barmme Prat/032‘, another of the few old favourites still claiming
a place in the Rosary. The flowers are very large, fragrant,
and of a true rose-colour.

Belle Lyolzzzaz'se, a daughter of Gloire de Dijon, smaller, paler,
and less bountiful than her mother, but a very pretty Rose
——referred to, p. I 35.

Blaz'rz'z' 2, a perplexing title (transposed to ‘Bleary Eye’ by a
cottager of my acquaintance), until we receive the explana-
tion that the Rose was one of two seedlings raised by

1 All the Roses in this list, except Gloire de Bourdeaux, Gloire de
Dijon, and Jaune Desprez, are of the Hybrid Perpetual family.

SELECTION 149

Mr. Blair of Stamford Hill, near London. No. I, though
once eulogised (see Sweet’s ‘British Flower-Garden,’ vol. iv.
p. 405) as ‘this splendid Rose,’ is worthless; but No. 2,
with its large globular flowers, the petals deepening from
a most delicate flesh-colour without to a deep rosy blush
within, is a gem of purest ray serene. A bloom of it, cut
from the tree before it was fully expanded, in the inter-
mediate state between a bud and a Rose, and tastefully
placed with a frond of Adiantum (Cuneatum, Sanctae
Catherinae, Farleyense, or Tenerum) in her back hair—
I beg pardon, her back snakes—would make even a Fury
good-looking. It belongs to the Hybrid China family,
as does

Brennm, far more happy as a Climbing Rose than when,
scaling with his Gauls the Tarpeian rock, he woke up
the geese who woke up the Romans to repel him head-
long, and to save their capital. It is a most free-growing,
free-blooming variety, with large deep carmine flowers.

Charles Lawson, a hybrid from the Isle de Bourbon Rose,
makes a noble specimen, producing magnificent blooms
of a bright glowing pink abundantly in all seasons. This
glorious Rose well deserves all those adjectives expressive
of beauty which, I begin to fear, my readers will regard
as wearisome and vain repetitions. I can only plead
that the epithets are true, and cry ‘Excuse tautology !’
as I once heard a parrot scream for the best part of a
summer’s day.

C/ze’m’dole', Hybrid China, is a very attractive garden Rose.
Not ‘an article which will bear the closest inspection’ of
anatomical eyes, but adding greatly to the general effect of
the Rosarium with its vivid crimson flowers.

Coupe zl’He’ée’, Hybrid Bourbon, is perhaps a size smaller than
we should have expected Hebe’s cup to be, considering
the requirements of such inflammatory personages as
Jupiter, Mars, and Bacchus. Probably, when the gods

150 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

set up a butler, as they did on the dismissal of Hebe,
and in the person of Ganymede, they may have enlarged
their goblets ; but it was a fashion of the ancients, including
our own grandfathers, to take their wine from egg-cups
and extinguishers of glass. Be this as it may, Coupe
d’Hébé is undoubtedly one of our most graceful and
refined Roses, exquisite in form and in colour, the latter
a silvery blush. Referring to a list of the Roses which
I grew in 1851, I find that, of 434 varieties, 410 have been
disannulled to make way for their betters! Of the two
dozen which are in office still, three-fourths are climbing or
decorative Roses, and six only of sufficient merit to pass
the ordeal of exhibition—namely, Blairii 2, Cloth-of-Gold,
Devoniensis, La Reine, Souvenir de Malmaison, and Coupe
d’Hébé.

C/zes/zum‘ [10/5712], CHI/wing Caflz‘az'zz C/zn'sty, I’M/v (I’m jardz'm,
Victor Verdz'er, and [Madame Brram’ must be also included
among the Climbing Roses.

Edouard Alarm); is very effective for the purpose under con-
sideration, being of robust growth, and liberally producing
its large, symmetrical, rose-carmz'm’s flowers.

General jacguemz'noz‘, for so many summers [/16 Rose of our
gardens, is still a glory and grace, its petals, soft and
smooth as velvet, glowing with vivid crimson, and its
growth being free and healthful. I well remember the
time when we welcomed this conquering hero, in his
brilliant uniform, as being invincible; but development
in Roses is no theory, as in certain schools of theology,
but a sure reality, and the General must now pale his
ineffectual fire in the presence of such Roses as Alfred
Colomb, Charles Lefebvre, and Marie Beauman. As a

. Pillar Rose, notwithstanding, he is not surpassed.

G/oz're dc Dijon, described among the Climbers, but excellent
in every phase. Like Phyllis, ‘it never fails to please;’
unlike Phyllis, it is never ‘ coy.’

SELECTION ‘ 151

[dune Desprez, Noisette.—Phoebus, what a name! Little
thought poor Monsieur Desprez, when he sent out his
seedling in the pride of his heart, that it would associate
his name throughout the Rose-loving world with jaundice
and bilious fever. Yellow Desprez, moreover, is not yellow,
but buff or fawn colour, deliciously fragrant, of beautiful
foliage, blooms freely in autumn, and makes, with careful
culture, a pretty Pillar Rose.

jmzo, H.C., a Rose which, like the goddess, may justly complain
of neglect, appearing in few gardens, and well deserving
a place in all. I must allow that Juno is sometimes
‘inconstant’; nor does the sorrowful fact surprise us,
foreknowing the provocations of her husband Jupiter ; but
she is, generally, all that a good Rose ought to be, and
then most divinely fair. We have so few Roses of her
pale delicate complexion, that, until we are favoured with
more perpetuals of the Caroline de Sansales style, Juno is
a most valuable Rose, large and full, and, in her best
phase, an effective flower for exhibition.

fllrs. joknLaz'ng—not only in vigour, constancy, and abundance,
but ‘in form and features “Beauty’s Queen ” ’—a Rose
which never disappoints.

jules JWargottz'n bears the honoured name of one who has
enriched our Rose-gardens with many a precious treasure
-——Mons. Margottin of Bourg-la-Reine, near Paris; and
no column could declare his praises so suitably, or per-
petuate his fame so surely, as a pillar of this lovely Rose.
I would rather that a pyramid of its sweet bright flowers
bloomed above my grave, than have the fairest monument
which art could raise. But ‘ there’s time enough for that,’
as the young lady observed to her poetical lover, when he
promised her a first-class epitaph.

flladamc C/CIIZEIZCC joigncaz/waVere I asked to point out a
Rose-tree which I considered a specimen of healthful
habit and good constitution, I know of none which I

152 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

should prefer before M. C. J., with its long, strong, sapful
shoots, its broad, clear, shining leaves, and its grand
cupped carmine flowers.

Maria/2a! Vail/ant well merits his baton for distinguished
conduct in the garden; and, in his bright crimson
uniform, is never absent from his post, nor ever fails to
distinguish himself when the wars of the Roses are fought
in the tented field.

Paul Nero” is admirably suited for this method of cultivation,
with his ample foliage, his huge yet handsome flowers—in
colour bright rose, and as to size supreme.

Paul Perms, H.B., is another valuable Rose in this section, of
robust growth, and producing plentifully its well-shaped
blooms, of a light rose-colour.

Longworz‘h Rmnélcr—introduced by Liahaud—is effective as a
Pillar Rose, of rapid growth, and abundantly productive
of its vivid crimson flowers.

Paul Rz'cauz‘, H.B., was once the swell of the period, the
D’Orsay in our écau morale of Roses; and though no
longer a leader of fashion, he is still a very attractive
member of society. Upon the tree, its large, closely-
petalled, rich crimson flowers are most beautiful; but it
is not reliable as a show Rose, expanding rapidly, and
too often displaying a large ‘eye,’ on his arrival at the
exhibition, as though astonished by the splendour of the
scene.

Ulric/z Brmzlzcr, said to be Paul’s son or seedling, of robust
habit, like his father, but of a more ruddy complexion,
and more compact in form.

Arches and arcades are graceful, because natural,
forms, qua: Naz‘um sud, spam? sztggcrz't, as we read

in our Oxford Logic, in which to grow varieties of

SELECTION 153

the Rose having long, lissom, drooping branches.
All the Climbing Roses selected in the preceding
chapter, except the Banksian, which must have a
wall, are admirable for the purpose—the Ayrshire
and Sempervirens being the first to fulfil their
mission, covering the framework in two or three
summers with their white clustering Roses and
deep-green glossy leaves ; and all the summer Roses
which I have selected for pillars, omitting Paul
Ricaut, are equally to be commended for arches
also, and soon meet each other upon them when
generously and judiciously treated.

These arches and arcades might be introduced
with a pleasing effect in other places away from the
Rosarium—in those plantation walks, for example,
which are attached to many of our country residences;
and these Climbing Roses might be planted by
landlords of generosity and taste, so as to make
unsightly buildings ornamental, and to render many
a plain cottage more cheerful and homelike. I
should like to see them more frequently at our
railway stations—and why not upon our railway
bridges and embankments? How striking and
beautiful thereon would be such a torrent of white
Roses as I have seen at Sawbridgeworth, covering
the bank between the road and the home of my

dear friend Thomas Rivers. Almost everywhere

154 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

there is a great waste of mural space on which
flowers or fruits might be grown.

Coming down from the Climbers to the

TALL STANDARDS,

I take leave to say that, although, where windows
and walls are otherwise inaccessible, a long spider-
broom in the hands of an efficient housemaid
deserves the admiration with which we watched it
in our youth, few persons would think of cutting
it in twain, and of setting the upper half in a garden
of Roses. Yet have I seen objects suggestive of
such an operation in some of these remarkably tall
standards which are still extant, but which, were I
Czar and Autocrat of all the Roses, would soon
find themselves, like other wretched Poles, in exile.
Their appearance is dismal; there is no congruity
between stock and scion, no union between horse
and rider—an exposition, on the contrary, of mutual
discomfort, as though the monkey were to mount
the giraffe. The proprietors, it would seem, have
been misled by an impression that the vigour of the
Brier would be imparted to the Rose, whereas the
superabundance of sap has been fatal. Food, con—
tinuous and compulsory, which it could not assimilate
or digest, has induced a sickly surfeit; and the

wretched Rose is stupefied, and looks so, with a

SELECTION 155

determination of blood to the head. Granting a
success, which I have never seen but once (in a
glorious tree of the old Hybrid China Fulgem), the
process of fruition would be laborious. Only from a
balloon, a balcony, a bedroom window, could we
supervise and fully appreciate such sublimities! Are
we then to discard entirely those standard trees de-
scribed to us in the catalogue as ‘extra tall’? Is
Briareus the giant to be again buried beneath Mount
Etna—21a, the rubbish heap? Certainly not. He
may do us good service, kindly treated, and be made
to look most imposing in our gardens holding a fair
bouquet of Roses in each of his hundred hands. I
mean that the vigorous Briers, from 6 to 8 feet in

height, may be converted into
WEEPING ROSE TREES,

which, properly trained, are very beautiful. Buds
of the Ayrshire and Evergreen Roses, of Amadis
and Gracilis, Boursaults, or of Blairii 2, Hybrid
China, should be inserted, in three or four laterals,
at the top of such standards as have been selected
for their health as well as their height. Closely
pruned the following spring, they may be trans—
planted from the nursery, or from the private
budding-ground, in the autumn, and the removal

must be effected with every possible care and

156 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

attention. I would advise that these tall specimens
be moved somewhat earlier than the usual time for
transplanting, so that, when firmly secured in their
place, and freely watered, they may be induced to
make roots, and gain some hold of the ground before
the winter begins. A strong iron stake, set side by
side with the stem, and surrounding it just below
the junction of the buds with a semi-globular frame-
work, the whole apparatus resembling a parasol with
a quadruple allowance of stick, will be the best
support for the tree (fixed deeply in the ground, of
course, as directed for the Pillar Roses), and will
enable the amateur to dispose the branches at regular
intervals, so that they will finally form a fair dome of
Roses—such a floral fountain as may have played in

the fancy of our Laureate when he wrote——
‘ The white Rose weeps, she is late.’

And now we have passed through the Rose-clad
walls—through the Rose-wreathed colonnades and
courts of the outer palace—into the anteroom of that
presence-chamber where we shall see, in brilliant
assemblage, the beauty and the chivalry of the

Queen of Flowers.

 

CHAPTER X
GARDEN ROSES

JUST out of Interlachen, the tourist on his way to
Lauterbrunnen was invited, when I was there, by his
courier or his coachman to leave the main road, and,
walking up the higher ground on the right, to survey
from the garden of a small residence, used as a pension
or boarding-house, one of the most lovely views in
Switzerland—the two lakes of Thun and Brienz. So
would I now invite the amateur to survey and to
consider the Roses in two divisions. I would
describe those, in the first place, which are desirable
additions to the Rosarium, either as enhancing the
general effect from the abundance or colour of their
flowers, or as having some distinctive merit of their
own, and which, not being suitable for exhibition, I
designate as Garden Roses; and I would then make
a selection of the varieties which produce the most
symmetrical and perfect blooms—that is to say, of
Roses for exhibition.

And I advise the amateur, beginning to form a
157

158 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

collection, to appropriate unto himself a good pro-
portion of those Roses from the first division, which,
being of a more robust growth than many of the
show varieties, are more likely to satisfy and to
enlarge his ambition. I hardly think that I should
have been a Rosarian had not the wise nurseryman
who supplied the first Roses which I remember, sent
strong and free-blooming sorts; and I have known
many a young florist to be discouraged by weakly
specimens, supplied by inferior or short-sighted pur-
veyors, and doomed to destruction, as the gladiators,
who said to the emperor, ‘flforz'turz te salulam‘.’
Wherefore, writing with the hope that I may promote
in others that love of the Rose, from which I have
derived so much happiness, I exhort novice and
nurseryman alike, as ever they would build a goodly
edifice, to lay a deep and sure foundation. Let the
one select, and the other send, strong specimens of
such roses, 6.53., Ulrich Brunner and Mrs. John Laing,
as never disappoint us. Such a course will induce
further investments; and as increase of appetite doth
grow with that it feeds on (I began with 12 and went
on to 5000!), the amateur will have to decide for
himself as to the future selection of his Roses.
Should he prefer the perfection of individual Roses
to the general effect of his Rosary—should he find

more pleasure in a single bloom, tare: atque rotunda,

GARDEN ROSES 159

than in a tree luxuriantly laden with flowers, Whose
petals are less symmetrically disposed—if, like young
Norval, he has heard of battles and longs to win his
spurs—then must these latter lusty, trusty, valiant
pioneers make way for the vanguard of his fighting
troops. Let him not disband them hastily. If,
surveying the Roses of these two divisions, and
having grown them all, I were asked whether I
should prefer a Rose-garden laid out and planted
for its general beauty—for its inclusiveness of all
varieties of special interest—or a collection brought
together and disposed solely for the production of
prize flowers—whether I would live by Brienz or by
Thun,—I hardly know what would be my answer.
Let the amateur begin with a selection from both,
and then let him make his choice. A choice, if
he is worthy of that name, he will have to make,
as increase of appetite grows with that it feeds on,
and demands new ground to be broken up for
its sustenance. To have both a beautiful Rose—
garden and a garden of beautiful Roses, requires

the K7)7TL(1 onv‘rov, the
Magnos Senecae praedivitis hortos,

the ground and the gold, which few can spare. They
who can—who have both the desire and the means,
the enthusiasm and the exchequer— should have

160 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

some such a Rosary as I have suggested in the
chapter on Arrangement, together with a large
budding-ground annually devoted, fresh Briers or
Manetti on fresh soil, to the production of show
Roses. As a rule, the amateur who becomes a keen
exhibitor will eliminate the varieties which he cannot
show; and the amateur who studies [out 67256711516—
the completeness of the scene, diversity, abundance—
will rest satisfied with his exhibition at home. He
will grow, of course, the more perfect Roses, enume-
rated hereafter as Roses suitable for exhibition ; but
not requiring them in quantity, he will have ample
room to combine with them those varieties which,
though their individual flowers are not sufficiently
symmetrical for the show, have their own special
grace and beauty—~the garden Roses, which I now
propose to discuss.

He must not omit the blushing, fresh, fragrant
Provence. It was to many of us {/16 Rose of our
childhood, and its delicious perfume passes through
the outer sense into our hearts, gladdening them with
bright and happy dreams, saddening them with lone
and chill awakings. It brings more to us than the
fairness and sweet smell of a Rose. \Ve paused in
our play to gaze on it, with the touch of a vanished
hand in ours, with a father’s blessing on our heads,

and a mother’s prayer that we might never lose our

GARDEN ROSES 161

love of the pure and beautiful. Happy they who
retain or regain that love: and thankful am I that,
with regard to Roses, the child was father to the
man. Yes, I was a Rosarian at. mew“ IV, never to
be so happy again in this world as when the fingers,
which are writing now, plucked from the brook-side,
from the sunny bank, from the meadow and the
hedgerow and the wood, the violet, the primrose, the
cowslip, the orchis, and Me Rose. Nay, about my
seventh summer I oft presided at a ‘ flower—show’——
for thus we designated a few petals of this Provence
Rose, or of some other flower placed behind a piece
of broken glass, furtively appropriated when the
glazier was at dinner, and cutting, not seldom, our
small fingers (retribution swift upon the track of
crime), which we backed with newspaper turned over
the front as a frame or edging, and fastened from the
resources of our natural gums.

And now, can any of my readers appease indigna-
tion and satisfy curiosity by informing me who first
called the Provence Rose ‘ Old Cabbage,’ and why.pl
For myself, ‘ I should as soon have thought of calling
an earthquake genteel,’ as Dr. Maitland remarked,

when an old lady near to him during an oratorio

1 I am, sub 705d, well aware that (as Miller writes in his Dictionary)
the Cabbage Rose is so called ‘ because its petals are closely folded
over each other like cabbages.’

L

I62 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

declared the Hallelujah Chorus to be ‘very pretty.’
It must have been a tailor who substituted the name
of his beloved esculent for a word so full-fraught with
sweetness, so suggestive of the brave and the beautiful,
of romance and poesy, sweet minstrelsy and trumpet—
tones. The origin of the title Provence is, I am aware,
somewhat obscure. Mr. Rivers thinks that it cannot
have been given because the Rose was indigenous to
Provence in France, or our French brethren would
have proudly claimed it, instead of knowing it only
by its specific name, Rosa d ceutfim'Z/cs; but we may
have received it, nevertheless, from Provence, just as
Provence, when Provincia, received it—Rosa avztzfolz’a
—-from her Roman masters, and may have named it
accordingly; or we may have had it direct from
Italy, as stated in Hadyn’s ‘Dictionary of Dates.’
Be this as it may, we have all the r/zymr‘, and enough
of the reason, to justify our preference for the more
euphonious term, and to vote ‘ Old Cabbage’ to
the pigs.

The Rosarian should devote a small bed of rich
soil, well manured, to the cultivation of this charming
flower, growing it on its own roots, and pruning closely.

The Double Yellow Provence Rose, of a rich,
glowing, buttercup yellow as to complexion, and
prettily cupped as to form, full of petal, but of
medium size, has almost disappeared from our

GARDEN ROSES 163

gardens, and I have only seen it in Lord Exeter’s
gardens at

‘ Burleigh House, by Stamford town.’

It was reported to have been brought there by a
French cook. The gardener, Mr. Gilbert, kindly gave
me plants and buds; but like the Bride of Burleigh,
of whom Tennyson wrote,

‘ Faint they grew and ever fainter,
And they droop’d and droop’d before me,
Fading slowly from my side.’

Although common at one time in this country, they
seem never to have been happy or acclimatised.
‘How am I to burst the yellow Rose?’ was a
question often sent to the horticultural editor. All
sorts of manoeuvres, and all sorts of manures, were
tried. Mrs. Lawrence writes that a tree of this Rose
was planted against an east wall at Broughton Hall
in Buckinghamshire, with a dead fox placed at its
roots, by her father. She adds, fortunately, that he
‘ was a great sportsman,’ or posterity would certainly
have suspected papa of being what posterity calls a
vulpicide. ‘In many seasons,’ writes the Rev. Mr.
Hanbury, in his elaborate work upon Gardening,
published more than a century ago, ‘ these Roses do
not blow fair. Sometimes they appear as if the
sides had been eaten by a worm when in bud;

164 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

at other times the petals are all withered before they
expand themselves, and form the flower. For this
purpose, many have recommended to plant them
against north walls, and in the coldest and moistest
part of the garden, because, as the contexture of their
petals is so delicate, they will be then in less danger
of suffering by the heats of the sun, which seem to
wither and burn them as often as they expand them-
selves. But I could not observe without wonder
what I never saw before—z.e., in the parching and
dry summer of I762, all my Double Yellow Roses,
both in the nursery lines and elsewhere, in the
hottest of the most southern exposures and dry
banks, everywhere all over my whole plantation,
flowered clear and fair.’ Here, in my opinion, the
latter paragraph contradicts and disproves the former,
showing us that, so far from the Yellow Provence
Rose being burned and withered by the sun, we
have only now and then, in an exceptional season,
sunshine suflicient to bring it to perfection. I
have given it my best sites and soils, but, with
all my anxious supervision, I have never succeeded
in persuading this tender emigrant to stay.

More kindly and gracious is the Miniature or
Pompon Provence, always bringing us an early
but too transient supply of those lovely little
flowers which were the ‘baby Roses’ and the ‘pony

GARDEN ROSES I65

Roses’ of our childhood. They may be grown
on their own roots in clumps among other Roses,
or as edgings to beds, De Meaux and Spong
being the best varieties. There are many other
Lilliputian treasures, the Banksian Rose, commended
when we discussed the Climbers; the charming
Scotch Roses, red, yellow, and white, growing in
great bushes, such as a giantess might bear as a
bouquet; and I remember some dear little darlings
which forty years ago were classified as Hybrid
Perpetuals— Ernestine de Barcule, Clementine
Duval, Coquette. de Montmorency, and Pauline
Buonaparte; but we had no Rose more fascinat-
ing than the Polyantha now in our gardens,
such as Perle d’Or, Little Dot, Mignonette, and
others.

A few varieties from the Hybrid Provence section
are valuable in the general collection, having those
lighter tints which are still infrequent, being of a
healthful habit, and growing well either as dwarfs
or standards. Blanchefleur is a very pretty Rose,
of the colour commonly termed French white—
216., English white with a slight suffusion of pink;
Comte Plater and Comtesse de Ségur are of a
soft buff or cream colour, the latter a well-shaped
Rose; Princess Clementine is a ram avz's in terrz's,

but not a bit like unto a black swan, being one

166 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

of our best white Roses; and Rose Devigne is
large and beautiful and blushing. These Roses,
having long and vigorous shoots, should not be
severely cut, or they will resent the insult by
‘running to wood ’—excessive lignification, as I
once heard it termed by a magniloquent pedant,
and burst out laughing, to the' intense disgust of
the speaker.

And now I am not entirely exempt from the
fear, that with some such similar derision the reader
may receive a fact which I propose to submit to
him. It is, nevertheless, as true an incident in my
history as it may be a strange statement in his
ears, that, once upon a time, hard on fifty
summers since, I was driven out of London by a
Rose! And thus it came to pass: Early in June,
that period of the year which tries, I think, more
than any other, the patience of the Rosarian,
waiting in his garden like some lover for his Maud,
and vexing his fond heart with idle fears, I was
glad to have a valid excuse for spending a few
days in town. To town I went, transacted my
business, saw the pictures, heard an opera, wept
my annual tear at a tragedy (whereupon a swell in
the contiguous stall looked at me as though I were
going to drown him), visited the Nurseries, rode in
the Park, met old friends, and was beginning to

GARDEN ROSES 167

think that life in the country was not so very much
‘more sweet than that of I painted pomp,’ when,
engaged to a dinner-party, on the third day of my
visit, and to enliven my scenery, I bought a Rose.
Only a common Rose, one from a hundred which
a ragged girl was hawking in the streets,1 and
which the swell I spoke of would have considered
offal—a Moss-Rosebud, with a bit of fern attached.
Only a twopenny Rose; but as I carried it in my
coat, and gazed on it, and specially when, waking
next morning,I saw it in my water-jug—saw it as
I lay in my dingy bedroom, and heard the distant
roar of Piccadilly instead of the thrush’s song—
saw it, and thought of my own Roses—it seemed
as though they had sent to me a messenger, whom
they knew I loved, to bid me ‘come home, come
home.’ Then I thought of our dinner-party over-
night, and how my neighbour thereat, a young
gentleman who had nearly finished a fine fortune
and a strong constitution, had spoken to me of a
mutual friend, one of the best and cheeriest fellows
alive, as ‘ an awful duffer,’ ‘ moped to death,’ ‘buried

alive in some dreadful hole’ (dreadful hole being

1 ‘ Poor Peggy hawks nosegays from street to street,
T ill—think of that, who find life so sweet——
She hates the smell of Roses !’

—-Hoor).

168 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

a charming place in the country), because he has
no taste for robbing or being robbed at races, can’t
see the wit of swearing, and has an insuperable
partiality for his own wife. And I arose, reflecting;
and though I had taken my lodgings and arranged
my plans for three more days in London, I went
home that morning with the Rosebud in my coat,
and wandering in my garden at eventide, armed
with a cigar in case I met an aphis, I exulted in
my liberation from smuts and smells, and in all
the restful peace, and the fragrant beauty, which
glowed around me, until the time came all too

soon,
‘ When in the crimson cloud of even
The lingering light decays,
And Hesper on the front of heaven,
His glittering gem displays.’

Ah, my brothers! of the many blessings which
our gardens bring, there is none more precious
than the contentment with our lot, the deeper love
of home, which makes us ever so loath to leave
them, so glad to return once more. And I would
that some kindly author who knew history and
loved gardens too, would collect for us in one
book (a large one) the testimony of great and
good men to the power of this sweet and peaceful

influence—of such witnesses as Bacon and Newton,

GARDEN ROSES I69

Evelyn and Cowley, Temple, Pope, Addison, and
Scott. Writing two of these names, I am reminded
of words particularly pertinent to the incident
which led me to quote them, and which will be
welcome, I do not doubt, even to those gardeners
who know them best.

‘If great delights,’ writes Cowley, ‘be joined
with so much innocence, I think it is ill done of
men not to take them here, where they are so
tame and ready at hand, rather than to hunt for
them in courts and cities, where they are so wild,
and the chase so troublesome and dangerous. We
are here among the vast and noble scenes of nature,
we are there among the pitiful shifts of policy; we
work here in the light and open ways of the divine
bounty, we grope there in the dark and confused
labyrinths of human malice; our senses here are
feasted with the clear and genuine taste of their
objects, which are all sophisticated there, and for
the most part overwhelmed with their contraries.
Here is harmless and cheap plenty; their guilty
and expensive luxury.’

And Sir William Temple, after a. long experience
of all the gratifications which honour and wealth
could bring, writes thus from his fair home and
beautiful garden at Moor Park: ‘The sweetness

of air, the pleasantness of smells, the verdure of

170 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

plants, the cleanness and lightness of food, the
exercises of working or walking, but above all the
exemption from cares and solicitude, seem equally
to favour and improve both contemplation and
health, the enjoyment of sense and imagination,
and thereby the quiet and ease both of the body
and mind.’ And again he speaks of ‘the sweet-
ness and satisfaction of this retreat, where, since
my resolution taken of never entering again into
any public employments, I have passed five years
without ever going once to town, though I am
almost in sight of it, and have a house there ready
to receive me.’

Even so to his garden may every true gardener
say, as Martial to his wife Marcella-—

‘ Romam tu mihi sola facis,’

‘You make me callous to all meaner charms.’

‘ Let others seek the giddy throng
Of mirth and revelry ;
The simpler joys which nature yields
Are dearer far to me.’

And let there be, by all means, among those joys
included a bed of the Common Moss—Rosefia ‘well-
aired’ bed of dry subsoil, for damp is fatal—in
which, planted on its own roots, well manured,

closely pruned, and pegged down, it will yield its

GARDEN ROSES I7I

flowers in abundance, most lovely, like American
girls, in the bud, but long retaining the charms of
their prelizz'ére jemzesse before they arrive at rose-
hood. When the soil is heavy, the Moss-Rose will
grow upon the Brier; and I have had beautiful
standards of Baron de Wassenae‘r, a pretty cupped
Rose, but wanting in substance; of Comtesse de
Murinais, a very robust Rose as to wood, but by
no means so generous of its white petals; of the
charming Cristata or Crested, a most distinct and
attractive Rose, first found, it is said, on the walls
of a convent near Fribourg or Berne, which all
Rosarians should grow, having buds thickly fringed
with moss, and these changing in due season to
large and well-shaped flowers of a clear pink colour ;
of Gloire des Mousseuses, the largest member of
the family, and one of the most beautiful pale
Roses; of Laneii, for which, on its introduction
by Mons. Laffay in 1846, I gave half-a-guinea,
and which repaid me well with some of the best
Moss-Roses I have grown, of a brilliant colour
(bright rose), of a symmetrical shape, and of fine
foliage, free from blight and mildew, those cruel
foes of the Rose in general and the Moss—Rose
in particular; of Luxembourg, one of the darker
varieties, more remarkable for vigour than virtue;

of Marie de Blois, a Rose of luxuriant growth, large

172 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

in flower, and rich in Moss; of Moussue Presque
Partout, a singular variety, curiously mossed upon
its leaves and shoots; and of Princess Alice, nearly
white, free-flowering, and much like Comtesse de
Murinais. But, as a rule, they soon deteriorate on
the Standard, and will grow more permanently
budded low on the seedling Brier.1 Celina and
White Bath I have not included in the preced-
ing list, never having grown them as standards;
but they deserve attention—the first for its
exquisite crimson buds, the second as being our
only really white Moss-Rose, but of very delicate
habit.

Of the Moss-Roses called Perpetual, and deserving
the name as autumnal bloomers, Madame Edouard
Dry and Salet are the only specimens which I
have grown successfully in my own garden, or
admired elsewhere. The former is of a carmine,
the latter of a light rose, tint. ‘Little Gem,’ a
miniature Moss-Rose, and a ‘gem of purest ray
serene,’ a ruby set with emeralds, having crimson
flowers surrounded by Moss, gleams brightly amid
the crown jewels of Her Majesty, the Queen of

Flowers.

1 Mr. Prince of Oxford exhibited some vigorous examples of Baron
de Wassenaéir and Eugene Guinnoisseau at the Rose-Show of the
National Society held in the Crystal Palace, 3rd July 1880.

GARDEN ROSES I73

All the Roses which I have selected in this chapter
are desirable in an extensive Rose-garden. To
amateurs of less ample range or resources I would
commend, as the most interesting, the Common
and Miniature Provence, with the Common and
the Crested Moss.

CHAPTER XI
GARDEN ROSES—(continued)

I COMMENCED my selection of garden Roses—that is,
of Roses which are beautiful upon the tree, but not the
most suitable for exhibition—with the Provence and
the Moss, because these were the Roses which I loved
the first. They had but few contemporaries alike
precious to our eyes and noses in the garden of my
childhood—namely, the York and Lancaster, and
some other Damask Roses, the Alba,I China, Gallica,
and Sweet Brier.

To the York and Lancaster—thus called because it
bears in impartial stripes the colours, red and white,
of those royal rivals who fought the Wars of the

Roses, recalling Shakspere’s lines—

‘And here I prophesy. This brawl to-day,
Grown to this faction, in the Temple Garden,
Shall send between the red Rose and the white
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.’

‘ ‘ Albion insula sic dicta ab albis rupibus quas mare alluit, vel ob
rams albas quibus abundat.’——P/z'ny, Hist. Nat, iv. 16.
I74

GARDEN ROSES 175

the Rosarian should add (Eillet Parfait, so truly
named, that a skilful florist, seeing a cut bloom
of it for the first time, would only be convinced by
a close inspection that it was not a Carnation but a
Rose. With a clear and constant variegation of White
and crimson stripes, it is marvellously like some beau-
tiful Bizarre; and Perle des Panachées, another gay
deceiver, white and rose colour, is almost as effective.
There is another striped Rose, of the Gallica family,
sometimes misnamed York and Lancaster, but more
correctly designated as Rosa Mundi, a flower for poor
Rosamund’s grave.
‘ Hic jacet in tumbfi

Rosa mundi, non rosa munda ;

Non redolet, sed olet,

Quae redolere solet.’

The Alba and Gallica Roses have almost vanished
from our gardens, nor do I plead for their restoration,
because, beautiful as they were, we have gained from
the development of selection and culture more charm—
ing Roses in their place.

Not so with the Sweet-Brier. N 0 true Rosarian
can lightly esteem this simple but gracious gift. ‘ You
are a magnificent swell,’ said a dingy little brown bird,
by name Philomela, to a cock pheasant strutting and
crowing in the woods, ‘but your music is an awful
failure.’ So may the Sweet-Brier, with no flowers to

176 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

speak of, remind many a gaudy neighbour that fine
feathers do not constitute a perfect bird, and that men
have other senses as well as that of sight to please. Not
even among the Roses shall we find a more delicious
perfume. The Thurifer wears a sombre cassock, but
no sweeter incense rises heavenward.1

In one of our midland gardens there is a circular
space hedged in, and filled exclusively with sweet-
scented leaves and flowers. There grow the Eglan-
tine and the Honeysuckle, the Gilliflower, the Clove
and Stock, Sweet—Peas and Musk, Jasmine and Ger—
anium, Verbena and Heliotrope; but the Eglantine
to me, when I passed through ‘The Sweet Garden,’
as it is called, just after a soft, May shower, had the
sweetest scent of them all. It is an idea very grace-
fully imagined and happily realised, but suggested
by, and still suggesting, sorrowful sympathies, for the
owner of that garden is blind.2

The Austrian Brier is a Sweet—Brier also; and
though not so fragrant in its foliage as our own old
favourite, it brings us, in the variety called Persian
Yellow, a satisfactory recompense, namely, flowers of
deepest, brightest yellow, prettily shaped, but small.

1 Lord Penzance has produced by hybridization some charming
varieties of this family. See Appendix, p. 291.

‘3 The blind Squire of Osberton has been long dead, but I retain this

description of his Sweet Garden, hoping that the idea may be realised
elsewhere, for the comfort and refreshment of others similarly affected.

GARDEN ROSES 177

This Rose is almost the earliest to tell us that summer
is at hand, first by unfolding its sweet leaves, of a
most vivid, refreshing green, and then by its golden
blooms. It grows well on the Brier, but is preferable,
when size is an object, on its own roots, from which it
soon sends vigorous suckers, and so forms a large
bush. In pruning, the amateur will do well to re-
member the warning—

‘ Ah me ! what perils do environ
The man who meddles with cold iron,’

seeing that if he is too vivacious with his knife, he
will inevitably destroy all hopes of bloom. Let him
remove weakly wood altogether, and then only shorten
by a few inches the more vigorous shoots. The red
or copper—coloured Austrian is a most striking and
beautiful Rose, and should be in every garden.

We will pass now from Garden Roses, which bloom
but once, to those which are called Perpetual, which,

‘ Ere one flowery season fades and dies,
Design the blooming wonders of the next.’

\Vhat a change in my garden since, forty years ago,
the ‘old Monthly’ and another member of the same
family, but of a deep crimson complexion (Fabvier,
most probably), were the only Roses of continuous
bloom! and now, among 5000 trees, not more than

twenty are ‘ summer’ Roses. All the rest Perpetuals,
M

0

178 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

or, rather, called Perpetuals by courtesy, seeing that
many of them score 0 in their second innings, and
but few resume their former glory in autumn. They
are, nevertheless, as superior for the most part in
endurance as in quality to the summer Roses, and
they supply an abundance of the most beautiful varie-
ties both for the purpose now under consideration, the
general ornamentation of the Rosary, and for public
exhibition.

Before we skim their cream as garden Roses, let us
remember with admiration the ancestral cow. For
who shall despise those old China Roses, which have
brightened, more than any other flower, our English
homes, smiling through our cold and sunless days like
the brother born for adversity, and winning from the
foreigner, as much perhaps as any of our graces, this
frequent praise, ‘Your land is the garden of the
world’! The Frenchman, for example, as I can
remember him in my boyhood, who had been travel-
ling on the straight, flat, hedgeless, turfless roads of
France, in a torpid, torrid, dusty diligence, was in an
ecstasy as he sat upon the Dover Mail, and went
smoothly and cheerily, ten miles per hour, through
the meadows and the orchards, the hop—yards and the
gardens of Kent. But nothing pleased him more
than the prettiness of the wayside cottage, clothed
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GARDEN ROSES 179

Rose, and fragrant with Sweet- Brier, Wallflower,
Clove, and Stock.

I may not urge the reappearance of this village
beauty to the modern Rose-garden, but in the mixed
garden and in the shrubbery the constant, brave ‘ old
Monthly,’ the last to yield in winter, the first to bloom
in spring, is still deserving of a place. He, at all
events, is no more a Rosarian who sees no beauty in
this Rose than he is a florist who does not love the
meanest flower which grows. Nor must he neglect
some other old favourites in this family, such as
Cramoisie Superieure, honestly named, glowing and
brilliant as any of our crimson Roses,I and forming
a charming bed, or edging of a bed, especially in the
autumn; and Mrs. Bosanquet, always fair, and good
as beautiful—the same, like a true lady, in an exalted
or a low estate, on a standard or on the ground, alone
or in group, composed, graceful, not having one of
its pale pink, delicate petals out of place. Both of
these Roses thrive well in pots, but they are most
attractive, I think, on their own roots out of doors,
in a bed of rich, light, mellow loam, pruned according
to vigour of growth, and pegged down when their
shoots are supple, so as to present a uniform surface.

When speaking of the Moss-Rose generally, I anti—

‘With this exception, perhaps, of Bardon Job, sent to us by
Nabonnand in 1887.

180 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

cipated the little which I had to say of the Moss
Perpetual (p. 172), and, passing on to the Damask
Perpetual, have but two Roses to commend, and these
only where space is unlimited and the love of Roses
voracious. A tender sadness comes to me thus speak-
ing of them, a melancholy regret, as when one meets
in mid-life some goddess of our early youth, and, out
upon Time! she has no more figure than a lighthouse,
and almost as much crimson in her glowing counte-
nance as there is in its revolving light; and we are as
surprised and disappointed as was Charles Kirkpatrick
Sharpe when he met Mrs. Siddons at Abbotsford, and
‘ she ate boiled beef, and swilled porter and took snuff,
and laughed till she made the whole room shake
again.’ I do not mean that these Perpetual Damasks
are too robust and ruddy, but that they charm us no
more, as when Mr. Lee of Hammersmith introduced
Rose du Roi to a delighted public, and the Comte,
who presided over the gardens in which the Rose was
raised at St. Cloud, resigned his office in disgust
because the flower was not named after himself,
Lelz'cur, a most ungracious act, seeing that it was by
the King’s (Louis XVIII.) desire that the Rose had
its royal title, and that the honour of originating the
variety was due (no uncommon case) to Suchet, the
foreman, and not to Lelieur. the c/zef. Mogador,
which was subsequently raised from Rose du Roi, was

GARDEN ROSES 181

a decided improvement, and is still very effective in a
bed, from its vivid crimson tints; but very few of
those amateurs who may pay me the compliment of
furnishing their Rosaries with the varieties which I
commend the most, will,I think, have room, when I
have completed my catalogue, for the Damask Per-
petual Rose.

It can vie no more with that section, the most
perfect and extensive of all, which we will next con—
sider, so far as its garden Roses are concerned, viz.,
the Hybrid Perpetual, a family so numerous and so
beautiful withal, that two of our most fastidious Ros-
arians, ejecting from a select list every flower which
has not some special excellence, give us the names of
120 varieties as being sans reprocke. ‘ I have inserted
in this list,’ says Mr. Rivers, ‘ Roses only, whether new
or old, that are distinct, good, and, above all, free and
healthy in their growth; the flowers are all of full
size, and perfection in colour; in short, any variety
selected from it, even at random, will prove good and
well worthy of cultivation.’ ‘ Roses suitable for Exhi-
bition,’ is the heading of Mr. George Paul’s list; and,
as an exhibitor, he has proved oft and convinc-
ingly a knowledge of what to show, and how to show
it. But I am anticipating this part of my subject,
and, returning to our garden Roses, recommend, as

the most robust in growth and prolific in flower, the

182 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

following selectionz—Abel Grand, Anna Alexiefl‘,
Anna de Diesbach, Annie Wood, Baronne de Bon-
stetten, Baronne Prevost, Boule de Neige, Caroline de
Sansales, Comte de Nanteuil, Duke of Edinburgh,
Dupuy Jamain, Edouard Morren, General Jacque-
minot, John Hopper, Jules Margottin, Lyonnaise, La
France, Madame Boll, Madame Clemence Joigneaux,
Maréchal Vaillant, Marquise de Castellane, Miss
Hassard, Paul Neron, and Senateur Vaisse.

Of the Bourbons, although two only now attain 1
public honours, there are several which are valuable
additions to a general collection of Roses. Acidalie is
extremely pretty, nearly white, and blooming bounti-
fully in a genial season, when other Roses are scarce,
that is, in the later autumn. Although it grows vigor-
ously both upon stocks and, per se, when the soil and
the summer are propitious, it is but a fine—weather
sailor, and, ‘like that love which has nothing but
beauty to keep it in good health, is short-lived, and
apt to have ague-fits.’ I advise the amateur, conse-
quently, to remember Acidalie in the budding season,
so that he may always have a duplicate in reserve.
Armosa is a charming little Rose, neat in form, and
bright pink in complexion. Bouquet de Flore, an old
favourite, still claims a place for its carmine flowers;
and Catherine Guillot, with Louise Odier, having both
the beauty and the family likeness of Lawrence’s

GARDEN ROSES 183

‘lovely sisters,’ are as two Winsome maids of honour
in waiting upon the Bourbon Queen—dethroned, it is
true, by more potent rivals, but still asking our loyal
love for its sweet, abundant, fawn-coloured flowers.
The Rev. H. D’Ombrain, in the flesh, is a true
Rosarian, a trusty, genial writer, an accomplished
florist, as all florists know; and in the flower he is
one of our best Bourbon Roses. Not so beautiful, of
course, as his daughter Marguerite D’Ombrain, H.P.
(of whom more anon), but an early, reliable, vigorous,
bright carmine Rose. Were the Roses sentient, as I
sometimes think they are, this one would have their
special regard and honour. Mr. D’Ombrain has not
only been, as it were, the consul for French Roses in
England, making known the merits of the new-
comers, and so insuring for them a kindly welcome,
and the faithful friend of French Rosarians also, in
soliciting help for those who, residing near Paris,
suffered severely during the siege ; but more recently
at home he has established a fresh claim upon the
gratitude of all Rosarians, by suggesting and organis-
ing a National Rose Society, and by reviving the
National Rose Show.

All the Tea-Roses may with care be grown out of
doors in a congenial site and with protection from
frost, and may be strictly included as hardy Roses for
the general garden ; the most vigorous being those of

[84 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

the Gloire de Dijon family, such as L. Belle Lyon-
naise, Madame Berard, Réve d’Or, etc., and Annie
Ollivier, Bouquet d’Or, Caroline Kuster, Edith Gifford,
Homére, Madame Lambard, Marie Van Houtte, and
Souvenir d’un ami; and of the Noisettes, Celine
Forestier, Jaune Desprez, Lamarque, Maréchal Niel
(wall), Réve d’Or, Solfaterre, Triomphe de Rennes,
and William Allen Richardson.

And now, my reader, as when eating our straw—
berries in early youth, boys by their mothers’, girls by
their fathers’ sides, we reserved the largest to the last;
or as when, in later years, we loved something more
dearly even than strawberries—making with the
Yorkshire rustic our tender confession,‘ I loikes poi,
Mary; but 0, Mary, I loikes you better nor poi! ’—
we, meeting in mixed company, reserved for our
beloved the final fond farewell—or meeting, not in
mixed company, found find the sweetest which was,
alas! the parting kiss; even so have I reserved for
my conclusive chapters the Roses which I love the
best—those Roses which are chosen for their more
perfect beauty, like the fairest maidens at some public
fife, to represent the sisterhood before a wondering

world.

CHAPTER XII
CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS

WHEN that delightful young officer of Her Majesty’s
Guards, having paid a guinea, some years ago in
London, to the great Spiritualist, medium, or what-
ever the arch—humbug called himself, of the season,
inquired, with a solemn countenance, whether he
could receive communications from his mother, and,
being assured that this could be arranged, com-
menced a long conversation with his parent, who
preferred, after the manner of spirits, to express her
sentiments by tapping —— and when, finally, he
announced his inability to prolong the interesting dis-
course because ‘the lady in question was waiting for
him at that moment (in robust health and in Belgrave
Square), that they might refresh themselves with
luncheon,’—he completely demolished the baseless
fabric of my little dream, how charming it would be
to have an hour’s table-talk with some of our old
Rosarians.

I am with them, nevertheless, and without humbug,
185

186 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

in spirit many a time, honouring their memories, and
always regarding them with a thankful, filial love. I
like to think of them among their Roses, as I wander
among my own, mindful how much of my happiness
I owe, humanly speaking, to their skill and enter-
prise; remembering them as we Rosarians of to-day
would fain be remembered hereafter, when our
children’s children shall pluck their snow-white Marie

Beauman,‘

‘ Pure
As sunshine glancing on a white dove’s wings,’

and shall wish we were there to see. I like to think
of Lee of Hammersmith complacently surveying those
standard Rose-trees which he introduced from France
in the year 1818, which were the first ever seen in
England, and which he sold readily (it was reported
at the time that the Duke of Clarence gave him a
right royal order for 1000 trees) at one guinea apiece.
I like to imagine the elder Rivers looking on a few
years later, half pleased and half perplexed, as Rivers
the younger budded his first batch of Briers, and the
old foreman who had served three generations boldly
protested,—‘ Master Tom, you’ll ruin the place if you

‘This prophecy, made more than 30 years ago, if not fulfilled, is
very nigh unto fulfilment, in the lovely rose, which bears the title
of the Marchioness of Londonderry. ‘

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 187

keep on planting them rubbishy brambles instead of
standard apples!’ I fancy the pleasant smile on
Master Tom’s handsome face, knowing as he did
that instead of the Brier would come up the Rose,
that his ugly duckling would grow into a noble swan,
and that there were other trees besides Golden
Pippins which were productive of golden fruit. Then
I wonder what those other heroes of the past, Wood
of Maresfield, Paul of Cheshunt, and Lane of Berk—
hampstead, would Say to their sons and grandsons,
could they see the development of the work which
they began—the Roses not only grown by the acre
instead of by the hundred, but in shape and in size
and in colour, beautiful beyond their hope and dream.
I picture to myself Adam Paul’s delight at the ‘72
cut Roses, distinct,’ which George, his grandson, has
just arranged for ‘ the National’; and the admiration
which would reproduce ‘Brown’s Superb Blush’ on
his countenance, after whom that Rose was named,
could he behold those matchless specimens in pots,
with which Charles Turner, his successor, still main-
tains against all comers the ancient glories of Slough.

Of the old Rosarians, Mr. Lee of Hammersmith
was the first who obtained the medals of the Royal
Horticultural Society for Roses exhibited at Chis-
wick, and at the monthly meetings in Regent Street.
These Roses were shown singly upon the bright

188 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

surface of japanned tin cases, in which bottles filled
with water were inserted, the dimensions of the case
being 3o__inches by 18. In 1834, Mr. Rivers won the
two gold medals for Roses shown at Chiswick, in-
troducing a new and a more effective arrangement, by
placing the flowers in fresh green moss—a simple,
graceful, natural combination, unanimously accepted
by the exhibitors of Roses from that day to this.
These prize blooms from Sawbridgeworth, the
advance—guard of a victorious army, were shown in
clusters or bouquets of five, six, and seven Roses, and
were the best specimens which skill and care could
grow of the varieties which then reigned supreme——
Brennus, George IV., Triomphe d’Angers, Triomphe
de Guerin, etc. \Vhat a royal progress, what a revela-
tion of beauty, has Queen Rosa made since then! In
that same year Mr. Rivers published his first, and
1116 first, Descrzfz‘z've Catalogue of Roses. It enumerates
by name 478 varieties. How many of them, think
you, are to be found in our recent lists? Eleven !—
eight of them Climbing Roses, two Moss, one China
—but none of them available for exhibition. \Vill it
be so with our Roses, when fifty more years have

passed? I believe, I hope 30.1

‘ \Ve ought to have every year a large accession to our list of beautiful
Roses. Mr. Bennett has proved by bestowing upon us such admirable

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 189

Mr. Wood of Maresfield, who had learnt the art of
Rose-growing in sunny France, was the next valiant
knight who made his bow to the Queen of Beauty,
and won high honour in her lists. Then followed Mr.
Adam Paul of Cheshunt, and then Mr. Lane of Berk-
hampstead. These were the heroes of my youth;
and when I joined the service, a raw recruit, in 1846,
the four last named—Rivers, Wood, Paul, Lane—-
were its most distinguished chiefs. But our warfare
in those days was mere skirmishing. We were only
a contingent of Flora’s army—the Rose was but an
item of the general flower-show. We were never
called to the front; we were placed in no van, save
that which took us to the show. And yet, then as
now, whatever might be its position, the Rose was the
favourite flower; then as now, the visitor, oppressed
by the size and by the splendour of gigantic specimen
plants, would turn to it and sigh, ‘There is nothing,
after all, like the Rose.’

results of his skill in hybridizing, as Her Majesty, Mrs. John Laing,
Grace Darling, Lady Mary Fitzwilliam, and Viscountess F olkestone,
not to enumerate other raisers, that we are not dependent upon warmer
climates for our more perfect Roses. Why should not others follow his
example? My friend Mr. Hill Gray of Beaulieu, near Bath, a devoted
and accomplished Rosarian, has given a great encouragement to such an
enterprise by offering a ,6 5 prize for the best essay on the Art of
Hybridizing, and such a fascinating pursuit would soon be its own
reward.

 

190 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Year by year my enthusiasm increased. I was like

Andrew Marvel’s fawn, when

‘All its chief delight was still
On Roses thus itself to fill’ ;

and my roses multiplied from a dozen to a score,
from a score to a hundred, from a hundred to a
thousand, from one to five thousand trees. They
came into my garden a very small band of settlers,
and speedily, after the example of other colonists, they
civilised all the former inhabitants from off the face of
the earth. As it was said of the pious Pilgrim Fathers,
they first fell, when they landed, on their own knees
and then on the Aborigines. Nor were they content
with the absolute occupation of that portion of my
grounds in which they were first planted. The
Climbing Roses peeped over the wall on one side, and
the tall Standards looked over the yew hedge on the
other, and strongly urged upon their crowded brethren
beneath (as high and prosperous ones had urged before
upon their poorer kinsfolk, pressing them too closely)
an exodus to other diggings, to ‘fields fresh and pastures
new.’ So there was a congress of the great military
chiefs, Brennus (Hybrid China), Scipio (Gallica),
Maréchal Bugeaud (Tea), Duke of Cambridge
(Damask), Tippoo Saib (Gallica), Generals Allard,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A CLIMBING ROSE.

 

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 191

Jacqueminot, Kleber, and Washington (all Hybrid
Chinas), Colonel Coombes, Captain Sisolet, etc. ; and
their counsel, like Moloch’s, was for open war.
They said it was expedient to readjust their
boundaries; and we know pretty well by this time
that this means an immediate raid upon the property
which adjoins their own. They discovered that they
had been for years grossly insulted by their neigh-
bours (Aimee Vibert was almost sure that a young
potato had winked his eye at her), and the time for
revenge was come. No, not revenge, but for en-
lightenment and amelioration; seeing that these bless-
ings must inevitably attend their intercourse with any
other nation, and that, consequently, an invasion,
with a touch of fire and sword, was beyond a doubt
the most delightful thing that could happen to the
barbarians over the way. Géant des Batailles
(Hybid Perpetual) waved the standard of Marengo
(ditto), and they sallied forth at once. They routed
the rhubarb, they carried the asparagus with resist-
less force, they cut down the raspberries to a cane.
They annexed that vegetable kingdom, and they
retain it still.

Yes, everything was made to subserve the Rose.
My good old father, whose delight was in agriculture,

calmly watched not only the transformation of his

192 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

garden, but the robbery of his farm, merely remark-
ing, with a quaint gravity and kindly satire, that,
‘ not doubting for a moment the lucrative wisdom of
applying the best manure in unlimited quantities to
the common hedgerow brier, he ventured, neverthe-
less, to express his hope that I would leave a little
for the wheat.’

Simultaneously with this love of the Rose, there
deepened in my heart an indignant conviction that
the flower of flowers did not receive its due share of
public honours. I noticed that the lovers of the
Carnation had exhibitions of Carnations only, and
that the worshippers of the Tulip and the Auricula
ignored all other idols. I saw that the Queen of
Autumn, the Dahlia, refused the alliance of each
foreign pgotentate, when she led out her fighting
troops in crimson and gold, gorgeous. The Chry-
santhemum, alone in her glory, made the halls of
Stoke Newington gay. Even the vulgar hairy
Gooseberry maintained an exhibition of its own ; and
I knew a cottager whose kitchen was hung round
with copper kettles, the prizes which he had won with
his Roaring Lions, his Londons, Thumpers, and
Crown—Bobs. was the Queen of Summer, forsooth,
to be degraded into a lady—in-waiting? Was the
royal supremacy to be lost? No—like

 

1—.“

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 193

‘ Lars Porsenna of Clusium,
When by his gods he swore,
That the great house of Tarquin,
Should suffer wrong no more ’-—

I vowed that her Majesty should have her own
again, and in a court of unparalleled and unassisted
splendour should declare herself monarch of the
floral world.

Carrying out this loyal resolution, I forthwith sug-
gested in the pages of T lze Florist (April 18 5 7), to all
Rose-growers, amateur and professional, ‘that we
should hold near some central station a GRAND
NATIONAL ROSE-SHOW—a feast of Roses, at which
the whole brotherhood might meet in love and unity,
to drink, out of cups of silver, success to the Queen of
Flowers.’ And I must confess that, when I had
made this proposal to the world, I rather purred
internally with self-approbation. I felt confident
that the world would be pleased. Would the world
send me a deputation? Should I be chaired at the
London flower—shows. Perhaps I should be made
a baronet. For some days after the publication
of the magazine I waited anxiously at home. I
opened my letters nervously, but the public made no
Sign. Had it gone wild with joy? or were its
emotions too deep for words? Weeks passed and it

still was mute. Iwas disappointed. I had thought
N

:94 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

better of mankind ; but I was disappointed, even as
that dog of Thomson’s, whose sad story is told in these
parts as a warning to the over-sanguine. He heard one
morning the sound of familiar footsteps approaching at
the hour of food. He said to himself, ‘What jolly
dogs are we !’ He rushed towards the door, jumping
and frisking, for he t/zoug/zt they were bringing him his
breakfast; and . . . file}! 100/: In)” out and flanged lzz'm.

The suspense in both cases was extremely dis-
agreeable; but I had this advantage, that mine was
too brief to be fatal. I had power to cut the knot,
and I exercised it by writing to our chief Rosarians
the simple question, ‘Will you help me in establishing
a National Rose-Show?’ Then were all my doubts
and disappointments dispelled, and the winter of my
discontent made glorious summer; for the answers
which I received, as soon as mails could bring them,
might be summed up in one word, ‘ Heartily.’ The
three men, the triumviri, whose sympathy and aid I
most desired—Mr. Rivers, king Of Rosists, Mr.
Charles Turner, prince of florists, and Mr. William
Paul, who was not only a successful writer upon the
Rose, but at that time presided, practically, over
the glorious Rose-fields of Cheslmntflpromised to
work with me; and the rest to whom I wrote (not
many at first, because too many captains spoil the

field-day, and too many huntsmen lose the fox)

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 195

assented readily to all I asked from them. I was
quite happy, quite certain of success, when I had read
these letters ; and I remember that in the exuberance
of my joy I attempted foolishly a perilous experiment,
which quickly ended in bloodshed —I began to
whistle in the act of shaving.

Shortly afterwards we met in London as members
of her Majesty Queen Rose’s Council. The council-
chamber (Webb’s Hotel, Piccadilly)I was hardly so
spacious, or so perfectly exempt from noise, as became
such an august assembly, but our eyes and our ears
were with the Rose. We commenced with a pro—
ceeding most deeply interesting to every British heart
—we unanimously ordered dinner. Then we went
to work. We resolved that there should be a Grand
National Rose-Show, and that we would raise the
necessary funds by subscribing £ 5 each as a com—
mencement, and by soliciting subscriptions. That
the first show should be held in London about the
Ist day of July 1858. That the prizes, silver cups,
should be awarded to three classes of exhibitors—
namely, to growers for sale, to amateurs regularly
employing a gardener, and to amateurs not regularly,
etc. We then discussed minor details, and having
agreed to reassemble, when our financial prospects
were more clearly developed, we parted.

‘ Removed years ago to make room for the Criterion Theatre.

196 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

And I thought, as I went rushing down the
Northern Line, what a joyous, genial day it had
been. Personally unknown to my coadjutors, we
had been from the moment our hands met as the
friends of many years. So it is ever with men who
love flowers at heart. Assimilated by the same
pursuits and interests, hopes and fears, successes
and disappointments—above all, by the same thank—
ful, trustful recognition of His majesty and mercy
Who placed man in a garden to dress it»—these
men need no formal introductions, no study of
character to make them friends. They have a
thousand subjects in common, on which they re-
joice to compare their mutual experiences and to
conjoin their praise. Were it my deplorable destiny
to keep a toll—bar on some bleak, melancholy waste,
and were I permitted to choose in alleviation a com-
panion of whom I was to know only that he had
one special enthusiasm, I should certainly select a
florist. Authors would be too clever for me. Artists
would have nothing to paint. Sportsmen I have
always loved; but that brook, which they will jump
so often at dessert or in the smoke—room, does get
such an amazing breadth —— that stone wall such a
fearful height—that rocketing pheasant so invisible
——that salmon (in Norway) such a raging, gigantic

beast,—-that, being fond of facts, my interest would

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 197

flag. No ; give me a thorough florist, fond of all
flowers, in gardens, under glass, by the brook, in the
field. We should never be weary of talking about
our favourities; and, you may depend upon it, we
should grow something.

In all sobriety, I often wish that we, who, in these
locomotive days, frequently find ourselves in our great
cities, especially when our exhibitions are open, might
have better opportunities from time to time of grati-
fying our gregarious inclinations. Why, for example,
should not the Horticultural Club in London have
a permanent building like other clubs, of course on
a scale proportioned to its income, where we might
write our letters, read our newspapers, and (dare I
mention it?) smoke our cigars, with every probability
that we should meet some genial friend? Not only
in London, but in Edinburgh, in Dublin, in Paris, I
would have a horticultural club, where gardeners (a
title which every man is proud of, if he feels that he
has a right to claim it) might assemble in a fraternal
spirit, as brethren of that Grand Lodge whose first
master wore an apron of leaves, and whose best
members were never yet ashamed if their own were
of purple baize.I As time went on we might have
a library of horticultural, botanical, geological, and

' Since this was written, the ‘Horticultural Club’ has been success-
fully established, and has pleasant meetings at the Hotel \Vindsor, in
\Vestminster.

198 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

chemical books. We might have pictures, after the
manner of our dear old ‘Garrick’ in King Street,
of some famous chiefs who had conferred real benefits
upon the gardening world. How glad we should be,
for instance, to see a good likeness of ‘the Doctor,’
and of quaint old Donald Beaton, with replicas from
the pictures, in the Council—room of the Royal Horti-
cultural Society at Kensington and elsewhere, of
Rivers, Veitch, Marnock, and many more!

‘My dear fellow,’ said to me a young person,
whom, after going through his admirable gardens
and houses, and hearing his professions of interest,
I had mistaken for a florist, and to whom I had
incautiously revealed my club aspirations, ‘ you surely
don’t suppose I should meet my gardener!’ And he
wore an expression of horror, as though I had asked
him to join a select party of lepers and ticket-of-
leavers. ‘ Calm yourself,’ I made answer; ‘there is
no fear of collision. You would not be elected, I
assure you.’ Fancy a fellow pretending to be fond
of art, and wincing at the idea of meeting an artist!
More than this, he who knows and reverences the
gardener’s art (and I would admit no other to our
club) must be a gentleman. He may not, in some
few instances, be aware that to leave out the I: in
horse-radish, or to sound the same in honour, is

an offence less pardonable than profane swearing;

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 199

there may even be an isolated case of ignorance,
that to eat peas with a knife is one of the deadly
sins ;—but, nevertheless, if he loves his flowers, he
must be in heart a gentleman. But we have lost our
way to the Rose-show.

We went back to our homes. We appealed for
subscriptions to the lovers of the Rose, and they
responded, as I knew they would. They responded
until our sum total nearly reached £200. We pub-
lished our schedule of prizes, amounting to 75 I 56.
We engaged St. James’s Hall, an expensive luxury,
at 30 guineas for the day, but just then in the first
freshness of its beauty, and therefore an attraction in
itself. We secured the services of the Coldstream
band—a mistake, because their admirable music was
too loud for indoor enjoyment. We advertised freely.
We placarded the walls of London with gorgeous
and gigantic posters. And then the great day came.

The late Mr. John Edwards, who gave us from the
first most important help, and who was the best man
I ever saw in the practical arrangements of a flower-
show, appeared, soon after daybreak, on the scene.
He found the Hall crowded with chairs and benches,
just as it was left after a concert the night before.
Early as it was, he had his staff with him—carpenters
and others ; and when I arrived with my Roses, after
a journey of 120 miles, at 5.30 A.M., the long tables

200 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

were almost ready for the baize. Then came the
covered vans which had travelled through the summer
night from the grand gardens of Hertfordshire, and
the ‘ four-wheelers’ with green boxes piled upon their
roofs, from all the railway stations. And then the
usual confusion which attends the operation of ‘stag-
ing’ — exhibitors preferring their ‘own selection’
to the places duly assigned to them, running against
each other, or pressing round Mr Edwards with their
boxes, as though they had something to sell—vocif-
erating like the porters at Boulogne, who, having
seized your portmanteau, insist on taking your body
to their hotel. He, however, was quite master of the
situation, and upon his directions, clearly and firmly
given, there followed order and peace.

And there followed a scene, beautiful exceedingly.
I feel no shame in confessing that when the Hall was
cleared, and I looked from the gallery upon the three
long tables, and the platform beneath the great organ,
glowing with the choicest Roses of the world, the

cisterns of my heart overflowed—-

‘The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
The waters from me, which I would have stopped,
But I had not so much of man in me,
And all my mother came into mine eyes,
And gave me up to tears.’

‘ Half the nurseries of England,’ as Dr. Lindley wrote,

 

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 201

‘ poured their treasures into St. James’s Hall.’ There
were twenty boxes from Sawbridgeworth alone. There
were glorious collections, large and lovely, from Ches-
hunt and Colchester, Hertfordshire and Hereford,
Exeter and Slough. ButI had brief time, as secre-
tary and supervisor, that day for ‘idle tears ’ or other
private emotions. Had I been editor of Notes and
Queries, the Field, and the Queen conjointly, I could
not have had more questions put to me. Had I
possessed the hundred hands of Briareus, not one
would have been unemployed. Then the censors
reported their verdicts; the prize-cards were placed
by the prize-Roses ; and then came

The momentous question, Would the public endorse
our experiment? Would the public appreciate our
Show ? There was a deficiency of £ 100 in our funds,
for the expenses of the exhibition were ,5 300; and as
a matter both of feeling and finance I stood by the
entrance as the clock struck two, anxiously to watch
the issue.

No long solicitude. More than fifty shillings—I
humbly apologise—more than fifty intelligent and
good-looking individuals were waiting for admission ;
and these were followed by continuous comers, until
the Hall was full. A gentleman, who earnestly asked
my pardon for having placed his foot on mine, seemed
perplexed to hear how much I liked it, and evidently

202 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

thought that my friends were culpable in allowing me
to be at large. Great, indeed, was my gladness in
seeing those visitors—more than 2000 in number——
but far greater in Izearz'ng their hearty words of
surprise and admiration.

‘ No words can describe,’ again to quote Professor
Lindley, writing in the Gardeners’ C/zrom'cle a few
days after the Show, ‘the infinite variety of form,
colour, and odour which belonged to the field of
Roses spread before the visitors. At the sides were
crowds of bunches, daintily set off by beds of moss;
in the middle rose pyramids, baskets, and bouquets.
In one place, solitary blossoms boldly confronted
their clustering rivals; in another, glass screens
guarded some precious gems; and in another, great
groups of unprotected beauties set at defiance the
heated atmosphere of the Hall.’

Yes, they defied this adversary; they defied and
defeated with their delicious perfume the foul smell
which at that time invaded London from the Thames;
but there was one opponent, one only, whom they
could not subdue. They had to fight that day, not
only the wars of the Roses, the civil war for supre-
macy among themselves, but they had to meet a rival,
against whom they concentrated all their powers in
vain.

A few months before the Rose-show, I made the ac—

 

CONCERNING ROSE~SHOVVS 203

quaintance, afterwards the dearest friendship of my life,
of John Leech, the artist ; and in the first of two hun-
dred precious letters which I now possess from his pen,
he sent me the accompanying sketchI of a combat be-
tween Flora and Venus, which subsequently appeared,
more correctly, but less prettily delineated, in Pam/z,
with this explanation, which I wrote on his request :—
‘In the days of the Great Stench of London, the
Naiades ran from the banks of Thamesis, with their
pocket-handkerchiefs to their noses, and made a com—
plaint to the goddess Flora, how exceedingly un-
pleasant the dead dogs were, and that they couldn’t
abide ’em—indeed they couldn’t. And Flora forth—
with, out of her sweet charity, engaged apartments
at the Hall of St. James, and came up with 10,000
Roses to deodorise the river, and to revive the town.
But Venus no sooner heard of her advent than (as if
to illustrate the dictum of the satirist, “ Women do so
hate each other,”) she put on her best bonnet, and
went forth in all her loveliness to suppress “ that con-
ceited flower-girl,” who had dared to flirt at Chiswick,
the Regent’s Park, and the Crystal Palace, with her
own favoured admirer, Mars. So, awful in her
beauty, she came in a revengeful glow, and Flora’s
Roses grew pale before the Roses on the cheeks of
Aphrodite, and the poor goddess went back to her

‘ See illustration facing page I.

204 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

gardens, and the pocket—handkerchiefs went back also
to the noses of the unhappy Naiades.’

Returning to realities—at the close of the exhi-
bition it was my happy privilege to distribute the
thirty—six silver cups which had been specially de-
signed for the occasion, and were. as I need hardly
say, prettily and profusely engraved with Roses. The
winners were—(of nurserymen) Messrs. Paul of Ches-
hunt, Mr. Cranston of Hereford, Mr. Cant of Colches—
ter, Mr. Francis of Hertford, Mr. Turner of Slough, and
Mr. Hollamby of Tunbridge Wells ; and (of amateurs)
Mr. Giles Puller of Youngsbury, Captain Maunsell and
Rev. G. Maunsell, Thorpe Malsor; Mr. R. Fellowes
and Rev. R. Fellowes, Shottesham; Mr. Worthington,
Cavendish Priory; Rev. H. Helyar, Yeovil; Mr.
Mallett, Nottingham; Mr. Sladden, Ash; Mr. Fryer,
Chatteris ; Mr. Walker, Oxford ; Mr. Hewitt, and Mr.
Blake of Ware. Two cups were awarded to my own
Roses, the process of presentation being ‘gratifying,
but embarrassing,’ as Mrs. N ickleby remarked when
her eccentric lover would carve her name on his pew,
and suggesting to a suspicious mind the trustee de-
scribed by Mr. VVilkie Collins, in whose accounts
occurred the frequent entry, ‘Sle—presented testi-
monial, £103

So ended the First National Rose-Show. It was,

as one of its best supporters, and one of our best

CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS 205

Rosarians, the Rev. Mr. Radclyffe, wrote of it, ‘Suc-
cessful beyond all anticipation’; and I went to bed
that night as tired, as happy, and, I hope, as thankful,
as I had so much good cause to be.

The Second National Rose-Show was held in the
- following year, June 23, I8 59, at the Hanover Square
Rooms, the former site not being available; and
again we had the best Roses of England, a goodly
company, and prosperous issues. The general effect,
although the introduction of the pot—Roses broke
gracefully the monotonous surface of the cut flowers,
was inferior to that produced in the more genial
summer of 1858, and in the more ample and ornate
accommodations of St James’s Hall. But it was now
more evident than ever that although we had toned
down our music by substituting strings and reeds for
brass, no room in London was large enough for the
leve’es of the Queen of Flowers. Next year, accord-
ingly, after a correspondence and arrangement with
the directors,

The Third National Rose-Show was held (July 12,
1860) in the Crystal Palace at Sydenham. Here was a
throne—room meet for Her Majesty, and 16,000 of her
liegcs came to do her homage.

The Fourth National Rose—Show was held under the
auspices of the Royal Horticultural Society in their

gardens at South Kensington, July 10, 1861. I was

206 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

very grateful to find such a genial soil and excellent
supervision for a plant which was growing rather too
large for me—that is, to transfer to abler hands a
work which, with all its gratifications, interfered at
times unduly with my other engagements. Moreover,
to tell you all the truth, in the happy springtide of
1861 I had a correspondence which occupied all my
time, upon a subject which occupied all my thought
—a subject more precious, more lovely even than
Roses—I was going to be married in May.

From that date to the year 1877, the National Rose
Show was held at Kensington; and though since the
establishment of the National Rose Society (at the
suggestion, and under the admirable administration,
of the Rev. H. H. D’Ombrain), it has held its exhi-
bitions, two and three annually, in various parts of
the country, so that all who show Roses might have
an opportunity of winning its prizes, and all who love
Roses might come and see, it has kept its chief
festival for some years in the Palace of Crystal, and
never fails to attract a large, appreciative crowd.

Have I created in thy breast, O amateur, a desire
to win honour at Queen Rosa‘s tournaments? Have
you an ambition to see upon your sideboard cups of
silver encircled by the Rose? Listen, and I will now

tell you what Roses to show and how to show them.

CHAPTER XIII
ROSES FOR EXHIBITION

AS he who can ride exchanges his pony for a cob,
and his cob for a hunter, and, having achieved pads
and brushes, where hounds are slow, fences are easy,
and rivals few, longs for a gallop at racing-speed over
the pastures and the ‘ Oxers ’ of High Leicestershire,
or the stone walls of ‘The Heythrop,’ as every man
with a hobby (I never met a mam without one) is
desirous to ride abroad, and witch the world with
noble horsemanship, so the Rosarian, enlarging his
possessions and improving his skill, has yearnings,
which no mother, nor sisters, nor people coming to
call, can satisfy, for sympathy, for knowledge, for
renown. He is tired of charging at the quintain,
which he never fails to hit, in the silent courtyard of
his home; he will break a lance for his ladye in the
crowded lists. And who loves maiden so fair as his?
“7 hat mean these braggart knights, his neighbours,
by praising their Rosas, so pale, so puny, in com-

parison? Their voices to his ear are harsh, irritating ;
207

208 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

they are as disagreeable as the crowings of contigu-
ous cocks to the game bantam ; and he feels it to be
his solemn duty to roll those knights in the dust.

I offer my services as his esquire, and my advice as
a veteran how to invert and pulverise his foes. By .
foes I mean those miserable knights who presume to
grow and to show Roses without a careful study of
these chapters. Not thinking exactly as we do, they
are, of course, heretical and contumacious. They
must be unhorsed. Then, perhaps, lying peacefully
on their backs in the sawdust, they may see the error
of their ways, and come to a better mind. They may
rise up, sorer and wiser men, and, meekly seeking
the nearest reformatory, may gradually amend and
improve, until at last they become diligent readers
of this book, and respectable subjects of the Queen
of Flowers. Be it mine, meanwhile, to teach the
virtuous amateur how to buy a charger, and how to
ride him—what Roses to show, and how to show
them ; first reminding him that he must have a good
stable, good corn, and good equipments in readiness
for his steed—must be armed, before he competes,
with those weapons which I have named as essential
to success, and which I must once more ask leave to
commend. He must have an enthusiastic love of the
Rose—not the tepid attachment which drawls its

faint encomium, ‘She’s a nicish girl, and a fellow

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 209

might do worse,’ but the true devotion, which sighs
from its very soul, ‘ I must, I will win thee, my queen,
my queen!’ He must have a good position, a home
meet for his bride. He must have for his Roses a
free circulation of air, a healthful, breezy situation,
with a surrounding fence, not too high, not too near,
which shall break the force of boisterous winds,
temper their bitterness ere they enter the fold, and give
skelter, but not shade, to his Roses. He must have a
good garden-soil, well drained, well dug, well dunged.
And having these indispensable adjuncts, he may
order his Show-Roses.

‘ Thanks, dear professor!’ here exclaims the enrap-
tured pupil (I am mocking now, with a savage satis-
faction, those dreadful scz'entzfic dialogues which vexed
our little hearts in childhood) ; ‘your instructions are,
indeed, precious—far more so than the richest jam,
than ponies, than cricket, than holidays, or tips; but
may we interrupt you for a moment to ask, What is
your definition of a Show-Rose P ’

‘Most gladly, my dear young friends,’ replies the
kind professor (anxiously wishing his dear young
friends in bed,vthat he might work at his new book
on beetles), ‘Will I inform a curiosity so honourable,
so rare in youth. I propose, therefore—avoiding all
prolixity, repetition, tautology, periphrasis, circumlo-
cution, and superfluous verbosity — to divide the

subject into forty-seven sections,’ etc. etc. etc.
0

210 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Leaving him at it, let us be content to know that a
Show-Rose should possess—

I. Beauty of form—petals abundant and of good
substance, regularly and gracefully disposed within a
circular symmetrical outline.

2. Beauty of colour—brilliancy, purity, endurance.
And

3. That the Rose, having both these qualities, must
be exhibited in the most perfect phase of its beauty,
and in the fullest development to which skill and
care can bring it. 1

Of course I do not presume, reverting to the shape
of a Show-Rose, to propose stereotyped definitions or
uniform models. On the contrary, I am well aware
that whether the surface of a Rose be globular,
cupped, or expanded, and whether its petals be
convex or concave, a perfect gracefulness of form is
attainable.2 My own idea is the globular—the abundant
petals regularly overlapping each other; but I should
never desire to show all my Roses of this form, how-

‘ Engraved illustrations of the five principal types of Exhibition
Roses—I, flat, like Souvenir dc Alalmmron; 2, globular, high centre,
like Alfred Colomb: 3, globular, like Frangaz's i’llzi‘lzc’lotz ; 4, cupped,
like Baroness Rot/2551227117; 5, imbricated, like A. A'. le'llz'ams, are
given in the excellent catalogue published by the Committee of the
National Rose Society, and to be obtained (price 6d.) from the
Secretaries. ‘

2I am glad to see that the National Rose Society, of which I have

the honour to be President, has adopted almost verbatim my definition
of a perfect Rose.

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 2!!

ever varied by colour, size, or foliage, knowing how
much I should lose for lack of contrast and
diversity.

With reference to colour, I would explain that I
mean by endurance a colour which will best bear the
journey to the exhibition, and the heat of the exhibi-
tion hall. I have kept this important consideration
in mind in the selection which follows of Show-
Roses.

After reading rule 3, the novice may ask, How am
I to know the most perfect phase and the fullest
development of a Rose? My answer to this is, Go to
one of our principal Rose—Shows, or to one of our
most extensive Rose-nurseries at the end of June, or
early in July, so that you may see the flower in its
glory. The sooner that the young Rosarian knows
what a Rose may be, and therefore what it ought to
be, the better. Many a man’s handwriting has been
cramped and spoiled by copying bad copies and
using bad pens; and many a man, who might have
been a successful florist, has failed, because he has
not seen flowers in perfection, nor the cultural art in
its perfection, until it was too late. I have known
several instances in which men, brought up, as it
were, among small Roses, have maintained their
superiority to large ones—I mean to larger speci-

mens of the same varieties.

212 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

The names of the Roses which are more specially
adapted for exhibition, from their exquisite propor-
tions and lovely tints, from contour and complexion
too, are given in the Appendix, page 283. It has
been commended by a Committee of the National
Rose Society, and it presents to us the careful and
unanimous verdict of the most successful Rosarians of
our day.

Happy art thou, my young disciple, to have before
thee, for thy worshipful homage and perpetual
delectation, all these lovely Roses! But two or
three of them were in existence when I first began to
cultivate the Royal flower.

‘ Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by his castled Rhine,

\Vhen he called his flowers, all blue and golden,
Stars, which on earth’s firmament do shine.’

But these stars, when I commenced my floral
astronomy, were few and far between, and would
have paled their ineffectual fire before those which
have since been discovered. Monsieur Laffay had
sent us from Paris a few Hybrid l’erpetuals, the best
of which were (of course) Madame Laffay, William
Jesse, etc., and these were so charmingly described by
my first Rosemaster and dear friend, Thomas Rivers,
author of ‘The Rose Amateurs’ Guide,’ that we

_ regarded them as out of the range of rivalry—‘ What

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 213

could mortals wish for more?’ In addition, we had
some beautiful Hybrid China, and Hybrid Bourbon
Roses, which, though they are not adapted for the
Siage, should be found in all large gardens, Blairii
No. 2, Coupe d’Hébé, Charles Lawson, and Paul
Perras; and with these a large number of Gallica
Roses, some of them of gorgeous colouring and
luxurious growth, both as to flowers and foliage, e.g.,
Boula de N anteuil, D’Aguesseau, Ohl, and Shakspere ;
but they were apt to display ‘an eye’ on their
journey to the Show, and this was as offensive to the
exhibitor opening his box as the glass eye of the
French cook gazing on his mistress from the centre
of the tureen when she began to distribute the
soup!

We had not the colour, the contour, the variety,
the contrasts, which are now so abundant. We had
no Alfred K. (K. can only mean King), Williams, as
splendid in its carmine glory as it is symmetrical in
shape; no Charles Lefebvre, a Rose which, as I have
seen it, at his best, 2': fies! ; no La France, in her roseate
silver sheen, such as rests awhile upon the Alpine
snow before the sun goes down ; no Madame Gabriel
Luizet, no Marie Baumann, no Marchioness of
Londonderry, no Mrs. John Laing, no Reynolds Hole
(how little did I think that I should live to be

described as a ‘ splendid maroon dashed with crimson,

2X4 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

large and globular, generally superbl’), no Ulrich
Brunner, and no Xavier Olibo.

We had a few of the lovely Tea—scented Roses,
Boug‘ere, Devoniensis, Madame Willermorz, Safrano;
but we had no Catherine Mermet, no Comtesse de
Nadaillac, no Jean Ducher, no Marie Van Houtte, no
Niphetos, no Souvenir d’Elise. And yet our ignor—
ance was very blissful, even as they who won victories
with bows and arrows were as pleased as though they
had been guns.

In ordering these Rose—trees, I advise the amateur
to ask for dwarfs or for low standards. The height
which I prefer for the latter is about 2 feet from the
ground to the budded Rose, because these lesser trees
escape the fury of the wind, requiring no stakes to
support them after their first year ; because they are
more conveniently manipulated than either dwarfs or
giants; and because their complete beauty presents
itself pleasantly to our eyes, without bringing us down
on our knees, or requiring us to stand a-tiptoe: éut on
fire w/zole [Ii/c6 dwmfs t/ze (zest. They should be planted
in November,I the soil just covering the junction of
the rose with the stalk, and the surface round them
should be dressed with a stratum of manure, both to

‘Hz’m‘r of I’la;1!z'zqg Roses, by a Committee of the National Rose
Society, may be obtained by remitting seven penny stamps to either of
the Secretaries, the Rev. H. H. D’ombrain, Westwell Vicarage,
Ashford, Kent, or E. Mawley, Esq., Rosebank, Birkhampstead, Herts.

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 215

protect and enrich the roots. Should they be sent
from the nurseries with any shoots of great length, or
with taproots, shorten the former, or secure them to a
stake, and remove the latter altogether. Aflix your
permanent tallies (I use smooth slips of deal, smeared
with white paint, written upon with a blacklead
pencil, and secured with thin wire to the trees),
because the labels of the nurseryman, even when
on parchment, become illegible from rain and
snow.

‘And next summer,’ exclaims the ardent disciple,
‘we shall have Roses as large as finger-glasses; we
shall win the Cup; we shall make the Marquis’s
gardener, that bumptious Mr. Peacock at the Castle,
for ever to fold his tail.’ It troubles me to repress
this charming enthusiasm, to demolish a super-
structure as gay, but, alas ! as baseless, as those card-
houses which the child builds, with the kings, queens,
and knaves of the pack, upon the polished mahogany
of his sire. No, my dear amateur, not next summer,
nor in any summer, with those Roses only which will
grow upon the trees just commended to you, are you
to whip creation, and make the family plate-chest
groan. If you tend them carefully, you may achieve
small victories, as encouragements to higher emula-
tions ; but if you would win cups and prizes ‘ open to

all England’ (Anglz'd in certamen provocatd), you

216 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

must regard the selection which I have made for you
only as the foundation on which you are to rear your
Temple of Fame. You must be as anxious as
Norval’s father to increase your stock—or rather
stocks—on which you may éud next summer, and
thus multiply your Rose-trees on the most
economical, and at the same time, most successful
system. Therefore I would advise you, if you have
the ambition to distinguish yourself publicly as a
Rosarian, to plant in November, simultaneously with
your Rose—trees, not less than 500 stocks. But now
comes a most interesting and important consideration
—-—which stocks shall we prefer for the Rose?

[Esop told the gardener of his master, Xanthus,
that ‘the earth was a stepmother to those plants
which were incorporated into her soil, but a mother to
those which are her own free production ; and where-
ever the Dog—Rose flourishes in our hedgerows—now
delighting our eyes with its flowers, and now scratching
them out with its thorns, should we follow the partridge
or the fox too wildly—l/zw‘e Z/ze BI'Z'L’?’ is 1/16 sioc/afor
#56 Rose. I know that, despite the dictum of fEsop,
our soil has been no injusta 7201/67sz to that foreign
Rose, which took the name of Manetti from him who
raised it from seed, and which was sent to Mr. Rivers,
more than fifty years since, by Signor Crivelli, from
Como. I know that the Italian refugee is acclimatised,

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 217

and that in hundreds of our gardens he is a welcome
and honoured guest. I know that the Manetti will
grow luxuriantly where the Brier will not grow at all ;

that in a toward season it will produce some varieties
of the Rose in their most perfect form, those especially

which have the smoother wood; that in many cases
the Rose-trees budded upon it have a more abundant
growth than those which are budded on the Brier;
and that Rose—trees upon the Manetti are more endur—
ing, and therefore more economical, than Standards,—
because the Brier, divested of its laterals, and exposed
to all weathers, is in a less natural position, and
because the Rose, if budded as it ought to be on the
Manetti, that is, below the soil, will establish itself on
roots of its own. I know, in fine, that the importation
of this stock has been a very gracious boon to those
who love the Rose; I know that Mr. Cranston of
Hereford on several occasions surpassed all com-
petitors with Roses grown on this stock; but I am
nevertheless, convinced that by far the greater number
of the most perfect Roses may 5e, are, and will be,
grown and slzown from our z'na’zgenous Brz'tz's/z Brier,
taken from t/ze kedgerows, struck from cuttings, or
raz'sed from seed.

Give your order—and any labourer will soon learn
to bring you what you want—towards the end of

October. I have myself a peculiar but unfailing in-

2x8 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

timation when it is time to get in my Briers—my
Brier-man comes to c/zurc/z. He comes to a morning
service on the Sunday. If I make no sign during the
week, he appears next Sunday at the evening also.
If I remain mute, he comes on week-days. I know
then that the case is urgent, and that we must come
to terms. Were I to fancy the Manetti instead of the
Brier, my impression is that he would go over to
Rome, or enlist in the Salvation Army.

Having made timely arrangements to secure your
supply of stocks before the severities of winter are
likely to prevent you from planting (should sharp frost
surprise you during the process of removal, you must
‘lay in’ your Briers securely, digging a hole for them,
placing them in a bundle therein, covering the roots
well with earth, and throwing an old mat over all),
you must be most vigilant in your selection of the
stocks themselves. Some gardeners display in this
matter a lamentable indifference. Their motto seems
to be Stemmaz‘a quid fizcz'zmt?——wlly should not one
Brier be as good as another? Their budding-ground
might be an asylum for the deformed, the weak, the
aged, instead of the school for healthful youth and
the training-ground for heroes. Let the amateur,
avoiding this fatal error, and remembering as his rule,
Ex quow's lzlgno non fit Illermrz'm, select young,

straight, sapfu1,well-rooted stocks, that the scion may

 

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 219

be vigorous as the sire. Let these be planted as soon
as he receives them—his collector bringing them in
daily, and not keeping them at home, as the manner
of some is, until he gets a quantity—in rows, the
briers I foot, the rows 3 feet apart.

The situation and the soil for your briers must be
just as carefully studied as though the Roses were
already upon them. These stocks are not to be set
in bare and barren places, exposed to ridicule and to
contempt, as though they were the stocks of the
parish; nor are they to be thrust into corners, as I
have seen them many a time. They should occupy
such a position as one sees in the snug ‘quarters’
of a nursery—spaces enclosed by evergreen fences,
which, somewhat higher than the trees within, protect
them from stormy winds.

W'atching their growth in spring, the amateur
should remove the more feeble lateral shoots, leaving
two or three of the upper and stronger. Suckers from
below must also be removed. The latter operation is
most easily and effectually performed when rain has
just softened the soil around; and weeds, which
evince in times of drought such a rooted antipathy
to eviction, may then be readily extracted without
leaving fibre or fang. i

The stocks may be budded in July, and I advise

the amateur who wishes to bud them to learn the art,

220 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

by no means difficult, not from books, but from some
neighbour Budhist, who will quickly teach him as
much of transmigration as he desires to know. If he
learns to make one slit only, so much the better, the
transverse cut being quite unnecessary, and liable to
cause breakage if too deeply made.

Select strong buds from your Rose-trees. It re
quires some little resolution to cut away the cleanest,
most healthful wood, but the recompense is sure and
ample. Do not expose your cuttings to the sun—a
watering-can, with a little damp moss in it, is a good
conveyance—and get them comfortably settled in
their new homes as soon as it can be done. In a
month or so you may remove the cotton—if you use
bast, a natural decay will remove it for you; in
November you may shorten the budded shoot to 5 or
6 inches from the bud; and early in April you may
cut it close to the bud itself. You must now keep a
constant supervision over your budded stock, removing
all superfluous growth, and having your stakes in
position, so that you may secure the growing bud
against those sudden gusts which will force it, if not
safely fastened, ‘clean out’ of the stock. These
stakes must be firmly fixed close by the Briers, and
should rise some 2 feet above them. -To this upper
portion the young shoot of the Rose, which grows in

genial seasons with marvellous rapidity, must be

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 221

secured with bast. Look out now for the Rose-
caterpillar, that murderous ‘worm i’ the bud.’ I
generally employ a little maid from my Village-school,
whose fingers are more nimble and whose eyes are
nearer to their work than mine, who prefers entom-
ology in the fresh air to all other “ologies” in a hot
school, and who takes home to mother her diurnal
ninepence with a supreme and righteous pride.

Towards the end of May apply a'surface-dressing,
one of those recommended in Chapter VL—or if the
ground is dry, a liberal outpour of liquid manure;
and at the same time take off freely the lesser and
numerous Rosebuds which surround the centre calyx.
A painful process this slaughter of the innocents, this
drowning of the puppies of the poor Dog—Rose, but
justified in their eyes who desire to see the royal
flower in its glory, and who prefer one magnificent
Ribston Pippin to a waggon-load 0f Crabs.

The same enrichment and excision must of course
be applied to the parental trees from which the buds
were taken in July. In a genial season, after a frost-
less May, the budded Brier (in some places the
budded Manetti),

‘A simple maiden in her flower,’

will show us the most perfect of all its Roses; but

this vernal prosperity so seldom comes, the budded

222 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Rose-shoots are so generally injured and retarded,
that you must rely principally upon your older
trees—commonly, but not pleasingly, termed ‘cut-
backs.’

Moreover, you should have in your Rose-garden
the advantage of a wall on which to grow the more
tender Roses, those grand Maréchal Niels, Devon-
ienses, Souvenirs d’un Ami, and other Teas, so
distinct from the Hybrid Perpetual varieties, and
such exquisite contrasts among them. Plant these
between your mural fruit-trees, or wherever you can
find a vacant space. Let them be grown upon their
own roots, or ‘ worked ’ so low upon the Brier that
the junction may be under the soil, and protect them
with a thick covering of farmyard manure laid on the
surface during the winter months.

The Brier, grown from seed or from cutting, is by
far the best stock for Tea-Roses; and he who has
been taught to regard these exquisite flowers as too
delicate for outdoor cultivation, will be surprised and
charmed if he can devote a border, backed by a wall,
and aspecting southward, to Rosa indica odorata
budded or grafted low upon the Brier. It must be
thoroughly protected by dense farmyard manure, laid
around in November, from frost—just peeping out of
it, as a Russian from the eyelets of his furs ; and then
such Roses as Adam, Anna Ollivier, Catherine Mer-

 

ROSES FOR EXHIBITION 223

met, Comtesse de Nadaillac, Jean Ducher, Mesdames
Bravy, Falcot, Lambard, Margottin, de Watteville, and
VVillermorz, Marie Van Houtte, Niphetos, Perle des
Jardins, Rubens, and Les Souvenirs d’un Ami, d’Elise,
de Paul Neron, and S. A. Prince will astonish their
admiring lover.

Let us now suppose that in all these departments
your loving and patient care has brought you the
prospect and proximity of such a splendid harvest
that you have entered your name as an exhibitor at
one of our great Rose-shows. Ah, what a crisis of
excitement, to be remembered always in the glad
Rosarian’s life! It is as when the boy, who has
distinguished himself in the playing-fields, goes forth
from the pavilion at Lord’s in the Eton and Harrow
match. It is as when the undergraduate, who has
been working manfully, enters his name on the list
of candidates for honours. What sweet solicitudes!
what hopeful fears! Look—Mr. Mitchell is whisper—
ing to that Eton boy, just going to the wicket with
his bat, wise words anent the Harrow bowling.
Listen; that tutor, with the clever, kindly coun-
tenance, is speaking cheerfully to his pupil, white as
the kerchief round his throat, as he enters those awful
schools. So would I aid and abet my amateur—so
would I bring a stirrup—cup to my young brave
Dunois. Partam‘ pour [a Syria—that is, for the

224 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

National Rose-Show—he wants information as to
boxes and tubes and moss, as to the time of cutting,
the method of arrangement; and he shall receive, in
the succeeding chapter, the best which I have to

give.

CHAPTER XIV
HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE

WHEN I first exhibited Roses, the boxes selected for
the Queen of Flowers were not what royal boxes
ought to be. They were ordinary and heterogeneous ;
they were high and low, wide and narrow, painted
and plain. Disorder prevailed, as at the Floralia of
old ; and Bacchus again appeared upon the scene in
the cases which had contained his wines, and which,
reduced in altitude, and filled with dingy moss, now
held the glowing Roses. These were kept alive,
auspice (Escalapz'o, in old physic-bottles filled with
water, and plunged to the neck in the moss aforesaid ;
but sometimes the succulent potato was used to pre-
serve vitality; and I remember well a large hamper,
with its lid gracefully recumbent, in which six small
Roses uprose from huge specimens of ‘ Farmer’s
Profit ’——the pommes d6 Zerre being inserted, but not
concealed, in a stratum of ancient hay. Sometimes
the flowers were crowded together, sometimes they
were lonely, neighbourless, like the snipes, now in

‘ wisps,’ now solitary; sometimes they appeared
P
225

226 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

without foliage (at one of our provincial shows it
was strictly prohibited, and I asked the committee
what they meant by coming on the ground with
whiskers); and sometimes they peeped out of leafy
b0wers—‘ plenty of covert, but very little game,’ as a
witty Lincolnshire lord remarked to the clergyman,
who asked him, one Christmas morning, what he
thought of the decorations of a church in which the
evergreens were many and the worshippers were few.
At our first National Rose-Show we commenced a
reform of these incongruities, and soon afterwards dis-
annulled them by an act of uniformity as to size and
shape. The amateur must therefore order his boxes,
which any carpenter can make for him from three-
quarter-inch deal, to be of the following dimensions :—
Four inches high in front, and eighteen inches wide.

In length for 24 Roses, not less than 3 ft., nor more than 3

ft. 6 in.
For 12 Roses, not less than I ft. 6 in., nor more than 2 ft.
For 6 Roses, not less than I ft., nor more than I ft. 6 in.

1
l
4

,, 3: /l/ fizz/LL; Vv/Z/Z/a
Z7? 4.!

 

 

 

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 227

The lids must be secured for travelling by stout
leather straps. Within the boxes some exhibitors
have holes pierced at equal distances on a uniform
surface of wood; but as Roses differ in size, it is
more convenient to have the facility of placing them
where we please, and for this purpose it is desirable
to have strong laths (3-4ths of an inch in depth, and
I inch 7-8ths in width) extending the length of the
box. These laths should be six in number, and
should be nailed on two strong pieces of wood,
crossing the box one at each end, 2 inches below the
surface. The upper and lower laths should be fixed
I-8th of an inch within the box, and the four remain-
ing so arranged that there will be six interstices 1}
inch in width—three for the Roses, and three merely
to reduce the weight. There will be a space of 1}
inch between the laths and the upper edge of the
box, to be filled as follows: Cover the laths with

 

228 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

sheets of brown paper, two deep, and cut to fit the
box, and upon these place the best moss you can
obtain. I get mine from trunks of trees in a neigh-
bouring wood ; have it carefully picked over and well
watered a day or two before a show ; and then, using
the coarser portion for a substratum, make my upper
surface as clean and green and level as I can.

It would, I think, repay the Rosarian to grow moss
specially for this purpose, such as would thrive—Sela—
ginella denticulata, for example—in rough boxes and
waste places under stages or in vineries. Some years
ago I placed a lining of zinc, 3 inches deep, at the top
of one of my Rose—boxes, filled it with earth, and soon
obtained from it a charming surface of S. apoda. The
effect of twelve beautiful Roses resting upon this
bright-green moss was lovely; but oh, the weight
when we bore them to the show! no mother in all the
world would care to carry such a bulky babe.

A wee story about moss, and we leave it. I re-
member an exhibitor, of whom it was said that he was
never known to pay a compliment, or to praise any-
thing which did not belong to himself, except upon
one occasion. Having won the first prize for Roses,
he went in the joy of his heart to his chief rival, and
surveying his collection, deliberately and frankly said,
‘Well, John, I must acknowledge you certainly beat

us—-—in moss.’ As well might some victorious jockey

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 229

compliment the rider of a distanced horse upon the
plaiting of that horse’s mane. It was a panegyric as
glorious as that which Artemus Ward paid to his
regiment, composed exclusively of commanders-in-
chief : ‘ What we particly excel in is resting muskits—
we can rest muskits with anybody.’

The Rose, when cut, is at
tached by a thin wire to a
strong but pliable support of
zinc, part of which is so curved

as to enable the exhibitor to

 

raise or depress the flower. On
the upper part of the tube,
before inserting it, write the
name upon a card in the ring,
affixed, in the lower part, filled
with pure rain water, fresh
from the cistern. These im-
portant auxiliaries are de-

lineated herewith in accurate

 

 

similarity, and these tubes not

 

only facilitate the arrangement

 

 

of the flower, but they retain ‘x.../
the water when rough railway porters forget their
gradients. They may be had from the inventor, Mr.
Foster of Ashford, Kent.

The carelessness of porters reminds me to add, that

230 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

exhibitors who cannot accompany their Roses—a
terrible separation to the true lover, and one which I
have never known—will do well to have painted in
white letters upon the dark-green lids of their boxes,
‘ Flowers in water—keep level.’

The amateur must now have the cards in readiness,
on which he has written with his best pen (unless he
has purchased them prepared by the printer) the
names of his show-Roses. These are cut from ordinary
cardboard, and must be of the regulation size—3
inches in length by I in width. They should be kept
in a box, divided into compartments and lettered, so
that they may be quickly found when wanted. They
are placed sometimes on the moss in front of the Rose,
but they have a more neat and uniform appearance if
inserted on sticks about 5 inches long, painted green,
and cleft at the top to receive them, and pointed at
the bottom to penetrate the moss more easily; or still
better on brass wires, having two parallel rings
twisted at the upper end, so that the card may be
inserted between them.

The young knight will not be armed mp-d—pz'e until
he has supplied himself with a couple of helmets. If
the weather is showery, or the sun scorches, just before
a show, many Roses may be advantageously shaded
by having a zinc cap placed over them 8 inches in

diameter, 5 inches in depth, ventilated, and having a

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 231

socket attached, which may be moved up and down a
stake fixed by the Rose-tree, until the cap is secured
in its position by a wooden wedge inserted between
the socket and the
stake. Roses of a
more delicate com-

plexion than others,

 

and some whose
vivid colouring is

quickly tarnished by

 

fiery suns, may be
thus preserved for
exhibition. Fresh "r '

cabbage-leaves, re-

 

 

newed from time to time, may be advantageously
placed on the caps, which, I may add, have a more
pleasing appearance in the Rosarium when painted a
dark-green colour. Cones made from Willesden
water-proof paper are also commended by those who
have used them as protections for the Rose.

These caps should be in readiness, fixed upon their
stakes, in the Rose—beds or near them, so that they
may be quickly placed in position when there is peril
from fire or water—when fierce suns come suddenly
forth, or when those first large drops, which have been
poetically termed ‘tears of the tempest weeping for

the havoc to follow,’ give warning of the storm. Many

232 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

a grand Rose have I saved by promptly acting upon
this admonition, and have come indoors with my
heart rejoicing under its moist merino waistcoat.
Helmet No. 2 resembles No. 1, except that the top
is made of glass and is flat. This is used to accelerate
the opening of Roses, and sometimes with success; but
generally I have found that nature will not be hurried,
and the Rose has been more refractory than the heat.
In using these caps—and their use, be it re—
membered, is exceptional—the amateur must be on
his guard against placing them too near the Rose,
lest, when moved by the wind, the petals should be
injured by trituration. And not only in this instance,
but in all, he must so watch his trees as to prevent all
risk of that contact and chafing which quickly ruins
the Rose. Watching the flower as it sways to and fro
in the summer breeze, he must remove all leaves and
shoots which touching it would mar its beauty.
Watchful ever,our young knight must keep his stricter
vigil upon the battle’s eve. He must know that all is
in readiness, the extent of his resources, and how he is
to apply them. The day before a show, I have not
only the names of my best ROses noted in my pocket-
book, but, ruling upon a sheet of paper 48, 36, 24, 12, or
6 spaces, I place each Rose in the position which it will
probably occupy on the morrow, and set my forces in

battle array. Here is an example, copied [tidy/aft)”:—

69:23

 

 

 

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 233
12 ROSES.
D k f ‘ -
Lefebvre. M. Niel. u e O Edm La France.
burgh.
F. Michelon. Beauman. N iphetos. E. Levet.
L. Van Houtte. Marie Finger. Xav. Olibo. C. Mermet.

 

 

 

 

 

Take any Rose in this collection, and you will find it
in close proximity to others which, from their diversity
of colour, will give and gain beauty by contrast.
Thus Lefeévre has the pink Mic/zelon below and the
golden Niel at its side; the yellow Niel has crimson
Roses on either side and beneath ; the scarlet Du/ee of
Edinburgh has a yellow Rose on his left, a blush Rose
on his right, and a snow-white Rose below him ; and
so throughout.

Your beautiful thoroughbreds may not all come to
the post; they may not run in the order in which
you have placed them—that is, some of your Roses
may be too much expanded when you come to cut
them, or may not be in size or in colour exactly suit-
able for the position assigned to them; but you will
find, notwithstanding, very great assistance from such
a plan as that proposed to you : and when you have
gained by observation a knowledge of the develop—
ment and duration of your Roses, you will meet with

few disappointments in its realisation.

234 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

On the eve of the show you must have all your
boxes surfaced with moss and sprinkled, set out upon
trestles three feet from the ground, ‘ here in cool grot,’
or in some sheltered corner or garden—shed; your
zinc-tubes, in rows upon their miniature bottle-rack,
cheaply made, and having a strong resemblance to
the stands on which ‘Boots’ deposits our fat port-
manteau, heaving a thankful sigh ; and upon a small
table your box, containing plans of arrangement,
Foster’s wire supports, cards with names of Roses
written upon them, sticks to hold them, a pair of
sharp pruning—scissors with which to cut your flowers,
a pair of small, finely-pointed ditto, with which you
may sometimes remove the decayed edge from a petal,
and a piece of narrow ivory rounded at the end, such as
ladies use for a knitting-mesh, and which, very care—
fully and delicately handled, may help you now and
then to assist the opening Rose, or to reduce irregu-
larities of growth to a more natural, and therefore
graceful, combination; add a small hamper of addi-
tional moss, and the dressing—room is ready for the
royal toilet.

W/zen should we cut our Roses? The nurseryman
who exhibits I44 Roses in one collection—that is, 3
specimens of 48 varieties—and sometimes simultane-
ously a collection of 72 distinct blooms, conveying

them great distances, is obliged to cut on the day

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 235

preceding the shows, and having acres of young trees
to select from, can generally find Roses of such calibre
as will ensure to him a continuance of perfect beauty
for the next four—and—twenty hours; but I strongly
advise the amateur, who has no such wealth of
material, and must make the most of his limited
means, to cut his Roses, whenever he has the option
——that is, the time—upon the morning of the show.
If the weather is broken, and the clouds without and
the barometer within warn you of impending rain,
then gather ye Roses while ye may, in the afternoon

and the evening before the show ; but if it is

‘ In the prime of summer time,
An evening calm and cool,’

let your Roses rest after the heat of the day, and cut
them on the morrow, when they awake with the sun,
refreshed with gracious dews. Nevertheless, if these
dews are exceptionally heavy, you must not cut
while—

‘ The plentiful moisture encumbers the flower,
And weighs down its beautiful head,’

but you must bide a wee till the sunshine dries its
tears.

Wherefore, early to your bed, my amateur, your
bed of Roses and of Thorns; for as surely as the

236 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

schoolboy who, having received a cake from home,
takes with him a last slice to his cubicle, awakes in
feverish repletion, turning painfully upon the crusty
crumbs, so shall this night of yours be fraught with
pleasure and with pain. Now shall you taste daintily
the candied peels, and now toss fretfully on piercing
grits. Now you shall sleep, and all shall be serene,
blissful. You are dreaming, so sweetly dreaming, the
happy hours away. The great day has come.
‘A happier smile illumes each brow,

With quicker spread each heart uncloses ;

And all is happiness, for now

The valley holds its feast of Roses.’
Your own are magnificent, larger than those which
bloom in Manchester Chintz above your slumbering
brow—nine inches in diameter. You reach the show ;
you win every prize, laurels enough to make triumphal
arches along all your homeward way. Suddenly a
change, a horrible change, comes o’er the spirit of
your dream. How the van, in which you are travel-
ling with your Roses, jumps and jolts! how dark the
night, and how the thunder rolls ! Ah, font estpem’u !
Crash fall the horses, or rather, the nightmares, down
a steep incline, and you find yourself standing, aghast
and hopeless, knee—deep in pot—17021772, in a country
lane five miles from the show !

Awaking, for the sixteenth time, with a terrible

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 237

impression that you have overslept yourself, and that
the time for cutting Roses is past, you are comforted
in hearing the clock strike two. Another restless
hour, and you are up in the grey dawn. At 3.30
you should be among the Roses, never so lovely as
now, lifting their heads for the first kisses of the sun,
and, alas! for decapitation! See, your gardener is
there, keen as yourself! He fills a score of the tubes
with pure, sweet, rain-water; he places them in one
of your spare boxes, and is ready to follow, when,
having glanced at your programmes, and armed your-
self with the trenchant blades, you lead the way to
glory and the Roses.

Cut, first of all, your grandest blooms, because no
Mede nor Persian ever made law more unalterable
than this. The largest Roses must 5e placed at t/te
bat/e, the smallest in tlze front, and t/ze z'nteriizedz’ate
in tile middle of your boxes. They become by this
arrangement so gradually, beautifully less, that the
disparity of size is imperceptible. Transgress this
rule, and the result will be disastrous, ludicrous, as
when some huge London carriage-horse is put in
harness with the paternal cob, or as when some
small but ambitious dancer runs round and round
the tallest girl at the ball in the gyrations of the
mazy waltz. So Perle des Jardins in your front row

is a beautiful yellow Rose. Placed in juxtaposition

238 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

to Maréchal Niel, its name becomes a cruel joke;
your little gem is lost beside the Koh-i-noor, and
your bright star pales before the rising sun its
ineffectual fire.

You will have another advantage in commencing
with your finest flowers, because of these you will
have (or ought to have) the larger stock, and will
thus be able to lay at the same time and in the
same order the foundation of your different collec-
tions, using the same corner-stone in each (begin
always with some glorious Rose, which must attract
the judicial eye, and make an impression upon the
judicial heart), and assimilating the arrangement, as
long as you possess the material. Much labour,
head—work, and leg-work is saved by this plan of
simultaneous structure.

The amateur must not exhibit these larger Roses
when they have lost their freshness of colour, or when
the petals, opening at the centre, reveal the yellow
‘eye.’ He must not place a Rose in his box because
it [acts éem superlatively beautiful. In the eyes of her
husband, the wife a matron should be lovely as the
wife a bride; but the world never saw her in her
Honiton veil, and respectfully votes her a trifle passe’e.
At the same time, let not the exhibitor be over—timid,
nor discard a Rose which has reached the summit of

perfection, and may descend, he knows not when, but

 

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 239

let him bravely and hopefully set it among its peers.
If it suffers from the journey, it must be replaced, of
course, from 1/1: 60x of spare 610mm w/zz'c/z t/ze ex/zz'bz'lor
must always take with 112372;! but if it holds its own,
if it is really a Rose of superior merit, nothing can .
now happen which will prevent a righteous Rosarian,
such asievery judge ought to be, from recognising its
claims. I once saw, and the recollection makes me
shudder still, a senseless censor thrust the end of a
huge finger into the heart of a magnificent Due de
Rohan, in his anxiety to assure us, his coadjutors,
that the Rose was too fully blown. Oh, how I wished
that the Duc, to whom we voted by a majority the
highest marks, had been armed for the moment with
a ferret’s teeth !

The arrangement of Roses with regard to their
colour has not been studied as it deserves to be.
With some few exceptions, the nurserymen are not
successful in this matter; but it is very difficult for
them to find the time, granting the taste to be there,
for a minute assortment of the large collections which
they are called upon to show ; and knowing that the
awards will be made upon the merits and demerits of
the individual flowers, they are not solicitous about

‘ The Roses taken to replace others should be in a less advanced
stage when cut. In many cases they will develope during the journey,
and so prove most acceptable substitutes for those which, on opening
our boxes, we may find to be 1107: de combat.

240 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

minor details. The amateur, with more leisure than
the man of business for the study of the beautiful,
and for the most effective display of his fewer flowers,
ought to excel, but, as a rule, does not. His Roses
are very rarely made the most of in this respect, but
are frequently marred and spoiled, the colours clash—
ing and contending with each other, instead of com-
bining against their common adversary. It is told of
a highly sensitive dame, whose silly pride was in dress,
that she went into hysterics before a large party
when her great rival in millinery came and sat upon
the ottoman beside her in a grand garment of the
same colour as her own, but of a much more brilliant
and effective dye; and I have seen many a Rose
which would weep, if it could, aromatic rose-water,
subdued by a like despair. Whereas every flower
should be so placed as to enhance its neighbour’s
charms—the fair blonde with her golden locks smiling
upon the brunette with her raven hair, each made
by the contrast lovelier. Once upon a time six pretty
sisters lived at home together always. In looks, in
figure, in voice, gait, and apparel, they exactly re-
sembled each other. Young gentlemen seeing them
apart, fell madly in love, as young gentlemen ought
to do; but on going to the house, and being intro—
duced to the family, they were bewildered by the

exact similitude; didn’t know which they had come

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 241

to see, couldn’t think of proposing at random, made
blunders, apologies, retreats. It seemed as though all
these charming flowers would be left to ‘wither on
the virgin thorn,’ when one of them was permitted
to leave her home upon a visit to a distant friend.
She returned in six weeks éz'enfiame’e, and six months
after was a bride. The rest followed her example.
So it is that six scarlet Roses or six pink Roses in
close proximity perplex the spectator, and depreciate
each other by their monotonous identity ; isolated or
contrasted, we admire them heartily.

The Rosarian will learn much as to the effective
arrangement of Roses for exhibition by keeping one
of his boxes, surfaced with moss and filled with tubes,
in his hall or in some cool place near his Rose-garden,
and by making experiments therein, with a View to
discovering the most pleasing combinations as to
colour, and the most graceful graduations as to size.

Nor let the exhibitor, amateur or professional,
suppose that these matters are of no importance. It
is true that priority is won by the superior merits
of the Roses, carefully examined and compared ; but
in cases where these merits are equal, then the best
arrangement as to form and colour will certainly
influence, and probably determine, the verdict. I can
recall several instances in which, cwlerz's pariéus,

tasteful arrangement has given the victory. The
Q

J
242 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

material for operation has been equally good; the
modus operana’z' has been the point of excellence—
the artistic effort of the more accomplished horseman
has saved him from a dead heat.

Time was when the exhibitor had good excuse for
the introduction of flowers faulty‘in shape and too
much alike in colour. Time was (and I recall it
happily, for we vexed not ourselves about that which
might be, but delighted our hearts in that which we
had) when our dark Roses, such as Boula de Nanteuil,
D’Aguesseau, Ohl, and Shakespeare—our pink Roses,
such as Comtesse Molé and Las Casas~our white
Roses, such as Madame Hardy,—were painfully wide
awake when they reached the show, and our collection
had ‘eyes’ like Argus. We are dismayed now if a
Cyclops shows himself, even in our ‘48.’ A marvel-
lous development and progress has been made both
in the form and complexion of the Rose, and every
season brings us new treasures. See what we have
gained in these latter years—to the darker varieties
we have added such Roses as Alfred Colomb, Alfred
Williams, Charles Lefebvre, Comte Raimbaud, Duch-
esse de Caylus, Duc de Rohan, Duke of Edinburgh,
Exposition de Brie, Horace Vernet, Jean Liabaud,
Louis Van Houtte, Marie Beaumann, Reynolds Hole,
Sultan of Zanzibar, and Xavier Olibo; and to the
lighter Baroness Rothschild, Captain Christy, Duch-

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 243

esse de Vallombrosa, Emilie Hausburg, Francois
Michelon, Her Majesty, La France, Marguerite de
StAmand, Marie Finger, Mrs.]ohn Laing, Marchioness
of Londonderry, Margaret Dickson, Merveille de
Lyon, and many others. Time was when the only
yellow Roses exhibited (Cloth—of—Gold was in exist-
ence, but lived in strict seclusion) were Solfaterre,
with very little yellow and still less shape; Persian
Yellow, in hue golden, glorious, but in size a big
buttercup; and sometimes a bud of Smith’s Yellow,
which no power on earth could induce to open, a
pretty buttonhole flower. Now we have Amazone,
Bouquet d’Or, Celine Forestier, Etoile de Lyon, Jean
Pernet, La Boule d’Or, Perle des Jardins, Perle de
Lyons, Reine de Portugal, and magnificent Maréchal
Niel! Fancy Smith’s Yellow in a modern collection-—
Tom Thumb on parade with the Guards!

The names which I have just written again remind
me how much the Tea and N oisette Roses diversify
and beautify our show collections. That the former
are delicate and difficult to produce when we most
require them, is evident from their sparse appearance
in public; but it is just one of those superable diffi-
culties which separate the sincere from the spurious
Rose-grower, and which only the former overcomes.
The conservatory and the orchard—house (there ought

to be, wherever there is taste and opulence, a Rose-

244 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

house) are undoubtedly the best homes for the Tea
Rose; but in this more genial temperature it blooms
long before the showman’s opening day; and I have
seen houses containing many hundred plants which
have not contributed to the exhibitor a single flower.
I have tried with these Roses many experiments, in
pots and out, alfresco, under glass, under canvas
(movable), on their own roots, on the Manetti, and
on the Brier. Wherever you have a vacant mural
space, or a warm border, I again recommend that
Tea Roses be planted on the Brier from seed or
cutting, as being their best ally and friend. Timid
brethren forewarned me, when I first planted them
alfresco, that the winter would kill them, and timid
brethren tittered merrily when a frost of abnormal
vigour destroyed nearly half of my first adventurers,
which had not been sufficiently mulched. Moreover,
my revered master and teacher, Mr. Rivers, had
written in ‘The Florist’ that Tea-scented Roses
could not be cultivated with success out of doors,
unless in the extreme south or west of England, and
that although in mild seasons they might be protected,
. a real English winter would kill them root and branch.
I persevered, notwithstanding. If one half withstood
. an unusual severity, I might rely in ordinary seasons,
and with wiser precautions, upon complete success.
Defeat, moreover, and the derision of my friends,

evoked a noble rage, a more determined energy. In

 

 

 

I’RAM‘A’I‘I.

TEA Runes .\'[‘

 

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 245

my youth I heard a professor remark at Oxford (he
styled himself professor and teacher of the noble art
of self-defence, but the condition of his nose was more
suggestive to me of one who was taking lessons) that ‘he
never could fight until he’d napped a clinker.’ Then

‘ His grief was but his grandeur in disguise,
And discontent his immortality.’

So felt I, and so fought and conquered ; and I advise
the amateur with a good courage to plant those Tea
Roses which are mentioned on the list for exhibition.
Budded close to the ground on the Brier, and pro-
tected with a thick blanket of farmyard manure
through the winter, they are always safe. They
should not be pruned before April, and then sparingly.

Set up your Roses boldly, with the tubes well
above the moss, and keep a uniform height. Most
of the show varieties will hold themselves erect and
upright, but some are of drooping habit, and their
spinal weakness requires the support of wire or of
wood, or of moss pressed firmly round them after
they have been placed in the tube. Turn your Rose
slowly round before you finally fix it, so that you
may present it in its most attractive phase to the
censor. I have seen Roses looking anywhere but at
the judge, as though they had no hopes of mercy.

Do not be induced to admit a Rose only because

246 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

it is new, or because it has some one point of excellence,
being defective in others—(Lg. a Rose ill formed
because it is brilliant in colour, or a dull coarse bloom
on account of its size. The judge will be down upon
that invalid swiftly and surely, as a fox upon a sick
partridge.

Nor place two Roses together which are both de-
ficient in foliage. Give to each of them the rather
a neighbour whose abundant and flowing curls may
partially conceal their baldness. But add no leaves,
though the temptation be great, because that same
judge is quick as a barber to distinguish between
natural and artificial hair, and there may be ‘wigs
on the green ’—-—z'.e. you may find your surreptitious
foliage lying upon the moss, and a card, with ‘ Dis-
qualified ’ written upon it, staring you in the face.

Step back from time to time, as the artist from his
easel, to criticise your picture, and try to improve it.
And when you have finished it, invite others to give
their opinions freely. Try to ascertain which Roses
they like the least, rather than to feast your ears with
their exclamations of praise. You will obtain help
sometimes where you least expected, and your atten—
tion will be called to defects which you had overlooked
in a kind of parental fondness. Spectators, unpre-
judiced and not akin, can readily point out infirmities

in the families of other folks. They do not pronounce,

HOW TO SHOW THE ROSE 247

as you do, the red hair of your dear little Augustus
a soft chestnut, or a rich auburn; they have been
known, on the contrary, to murmur ‘ Carrots.’ They
do not declare a squint, as Charles Mathews in the
play, to be ‘a pleasing obliquity of the left eye.’

Have the sticks holding the cards which tell the
names of your Roses in their places before you put
on the lids. If you are showing in the larger classes,
it is wise to make this arrangement when you insert
the flowers; otherwise, forgetting names, you may run
a risk of including duplicates. Moreover, you will
find the process of naming your Roses after your
arrival at the show a tedious occupation of time, which
might be much more advantageously employed.

Have your lids on before the sun is high, and be on
the show-ground as early as you can. You will thus
have the advantage of selecting a good place for your
boxes, not exposed to draught or to glare; of re-
placing from your spare blooms those Roses which
have suffered from the voyage ; of setting each flower
and each card in its position ; of filling up the tubes
with fresh water; and of making the best of your
Roses generally, leisurely, and at your ease.

This done, you may put back your lids, just raising
them at the front a couple of inches with wooden
props; and then you may survey (as I propose to
do in my final chapter) the exhibitors, the judges, and
the Rose-show itself.

CHAPTER XV
AT A ROSE-SHOW

AS the young knight in the olden time, having
reached ‘y° place ordayned and appointed to trye
ye bittermoste by stroke of battle,’ became naturally
curious concerning his adversaries, and, after caring
for his horse, and looking to his armour, went forth
to inspect the Flower of Chivalry, and the lists, in
which that flower would shortly form a bed of ‘ Love-
lies-bleeding ’ — so the exhibitor, having finally
arranged his Roses, strolls through the glowing
aisles of the show. Soon experience will teach him
to survey calmly, and to gauge accurately, the forces
of his foe; at first he but glances nervously, fur-
tively, at the scene around him, like a new boy at
some public school. The sight brings him hopes
and fears. Now a hurried sidelong look shows him
flowers inferior to his own, and he is elate, happy.
Now an objectionably large Marie Beaumann obtrudes
itself upon his vision, and his heart fails him. He

steps, as it were, from the warm stove, gay with
248

AT A ROSE-SHOW 249

orchids, into the ice-house of chill despair. He is
much too anxious and excited to form any just con-
clusions ; and therefore, to engage his thoughts more
pleasantly, I will introduce him to his co-exhibitors.
Viewed abstractedly, these co-exhibitors are genial
generous, intelligent—men of refined taste and re-
verent feelings, with the freshness of a garden and the
freedom of the country about their looks and ways.
Viewed early in the morning, as the novice sees them
now, they are a little dingy, without the freshness of
the garden upon them, but with something very like
its soil. Some have not been in bed since yester-
night ; not one has slept his usual sleep. Many have

come from afar :—

‘ They have travelled to our Rose-show
From north, south, east, and west,
By rail, by roads, with precious loads
Of the flower they love the best ;

From dusk to dawn, through night to mom
They’ve dozed ’mid Clank and din,

And woke with cramp in both their legs
And bristles on their chin.’

‘ Palm's et umém sumus ! ’ they sigh—we are all over
dust and shady. They are like Melrose Abbey—
sunlight does not suit them. ‘The gay beams of
lightsome day’ are not becoming to countenances

long estranged from pillow, razor, and tub. They

250 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

have come to meet the Queen of Flowers, as Mephi-
bosheth to meet King David, not having dressed his
feet, or trimmed his beard, or washed his clothes from
the day the king departed. And this reminds me
that we, the clerical contingent, appear upon these
occasions especially dishevelled and dim. Sydney
Smith would undoubtedly say that we ‘seemed to
have a good deal of glebe upon our own hands.’ In
the thick dust upon our black coats you might write
or draw distinctly —— (I once saw traced upon the
back of a thirsty florist, of course a layman—To 5e
kept dry .' t/zz's side up); and our white ties—

‘ ui color albus erat nunc est contrarius albo’———
)

are dismally limp and crumpled. The bearded
brethren remind one of St. Angus, of whom we
read that, perspiring and unwashed, he worked in
his barn until the scattered grain took root and grew
on him.

By—and—by, when the exhibition is open to the
public, we shall be as spruce as our neighbours, and
as bright as soap and water—he is no true gardener who
loves not both—can make us. Meanwhile let me
assure the new comer among us that there are strong
brains and gentle hearts within those swart and
grimy exteriors, and that he will find in the brother-

hood hereafter—so I prophesy from my own experi-

AT A ROSE-SHOW 251

ence—many dear and steadfast friends. For me
floriculture has done so much—quickening good
desires and rebuking evil—that I have ever faith in
those with whom its power prevails. But let us
never forget, while we congratulate and commend
each other as florists, that humility on the score of
our multitudinous weeds is more becoming than
pride in our little dish of sour wizened fruit ; that ‘ we
are the sons of women, Master Page;’ and that the
serpent hides still among our flowers. And now, to
confirm such wholesome memories,I will present to
the young Rosarian one or two specimens of our
weaker brethren, that he may learn to check betimes
in himself those infirmities which are common to us
all, and which, when they gain the mastery, make
men objects of contempt and ridicule. I must add
that although I paint from the life, my pictures are
never portraits of the individual, but always studies
from the group—a group brought together by
memory from diverse parts and periods, but display-
ing in its members such a strong family resemblance
that I must guard myself against a natural
suspicion.

The [rascz'ble Ex/zz'éz'z‘or loses no time in verifying
his presence to our eyes and ears. Talking so
rapidly that ‘ a man ought to be all ear to follow,’ as
Schiller said of Madame de Stael, and so loudly that

252 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

he may be heard in all parts of the show, he is
declaiming to a policeman, a carpenter, and two
under-gardeners, who are nudging each other in the
ribs, against the iniquitous villany of ‘ three thunder-
ing muffs’ who recently awarded him a fourth prize
for the finest lot of Roses he ever cut. He com-
municates to the policeman, who evidently regards
him as being singularly advanced in liquor, consider-
ing the time of day, his firm belief that the censors in
question were brought up from a coal-mine on the
morning of the exhibition, and had never seen a Rose
before. He does hope that, on the present occasion,
somebody will be in office who knows the difference
between that flower and a pumpkin. Here he is
informed that Mr. Trueman,'a most reliable Rosarian,
is to be one of the judges. He is delighted to hear it.
Mr. Trueman is a practical, honourable man; and,
having arranged his Roses with a running accompani-
ment of grunts and snorts, he goes in quest of that
individual, expresses entire confidence in his unerring
judgment, and the happiness which he feels in sub-
mitting his Roses to a man who can appreciate them,
instead of to such a set of old women as were recently
judging at , when they ought to have been in
bed.

Alas for our poor feeble humanity!——two hours

 

later Mr. Irascible, finding no prize—card on his boxes,

AT A ROSE-SHOW 253

denounces Mr. T. as an ignorant humbug, or knows
for a fact that he is in vile collusion with the principal
winners of the day—reminding me, in his swift transi-
tion from praise to condemnation, from love to hate,
of a ludicrous Oxford scene.

Tom Perrin kept livery-stables, and in those
stables the stoutest of wheelers and the liveliest of
leaders for our tandems and fours—in-hand. Unhappily
for Tom, all driving in extenso was strictly forbidden,
and he came, in consequence, to frequent collisions
with our potent, grave, and reverend Dons. Upon
the occasion to which I refer, he had been summoned
to appear before the Vice—Chancellor, Doctor
MacBride, then Principal of Magdalen Hall, now
known as Hertford College; and as the offence was
flagrant, and his previous convictions were numerous,
he was specially anxious to obtain an acquittal. He
presented himself in deep mourning, and wore the
expression of a simple modest citizen, who really
didn’t know what a tandem was. He placed a pile of
ancient tomes by his side (Greek lexicons for the
most part, and Latin dictionaries lent to him by the
undergraduates), and with his brow knit as in anxious
thought, and his finger upon the page (generally
upside down), he consulted them from time to time
during his trial upon difficult points of law. He

bowed to the court at intervals with a most profound

254 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

respect, and he adressed the doctor as ‘My Lord
Judge,’ ‘Your Grace,’ and ‘Venerable Sir.’ But
when the verdict was given, and the defendant
heavily fined, I never saw anything in dissolving
views so marvellous as Tom Perrin. He set his hat
jauntily on the side of his head ; he shut his lexicons
with a bang, and confronting his judge with a look of

scorn and disgust, he said—‘ MacBride, if this be law,

 

hequity, or justice’ I’m ,’ well, let us say, some-
thing which happens to a brook when its waters are
arrested by a temporary barrier constructed across
the stream.

SO does our Irascible Exhibitor now glare around
him with ‘the dragon eyes of angered Eleanor.’ He
would like a revival of those days when ‘a judge was
not sacred from violence. Any one might interrupt
him, might accuse him of iniquity and corruption in
the most reproachful terms, and, throwing down his
guantlet, might challenge him to defend his integrity
in the field; nor could he without infamy refuse to
accept his defiance, or decline to enter the lists
against such an adversary.1 That is to say, he
would like to interrupt, to accuse, to reproach, and
perhaps to challenge, but certainly not to fight, for
these passionate folk are invariably cowards. They

dare not attack with anything but words ; unless they

‘ Robertson’s szlozy of C/zar/cy V., vol. i.

AT A ROSE-SHOW 255

possess an overwhelming power, like that suburban,
pot-house, betting Eleven, who once upon a time per-
suaded Jimmy Dean to act as umpire at one of their
boosy matches, and ran him home six miles across
country with furious execrations and threats to
London, because he gave a decision adverse to their
interest at a critical period of the game.

At one time you will see the Irascible Exhibitor
standing by his Roses, and revealing his wrongs to
any who will hear—occasionally making a deep im-
pression upon elderly ladies, and almost persuading
very young reporters to chronicle his woes in print;
but oftener failing to evoke sympathy, you will find
him with a countenance, like Displeasure in the Fairy
Queen, ‘lompish and full sullein,’ aloof, solitary—like
some morose old pike swimming slowly about in a
back-water, while all the other fishes are leaping in
the sunlit stream. Finally, he discovers some mal-
content like himself—2m so! trozwe toujours 202 plus
soi quz' Z’aa’mz're—and they go off together to the
darkest corner of the most dismal room of their inn,
to enjoy their woes, and to defy their fellow—creatures,
over a succession of ‘ two brandies and cold.’

I know only of one other species of exhibitor dis—
creditable to the genus, T/ze Covetozzs Ex/zz'éz'mr, whose
avarice has slain his honour. His motto is Money.

‘ Si possis recte, si non quocunque modo, Money.’

256 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

He cares nothing for the Rose itself, sees no beauty,
and smells no perfume, only for the prizes it may win.
Tmz'e az'me plus 23mm gm: Rose, and will go through
any amount of dirtiness to get his nose to the swill.
On the eve of a show he will beg or will buy the
Roses of his neighbours. He will show several flowers
of the same Rose, attaching different names. Charles
Lefebvre appears as Marguerite Braisac and Paul
Jamain, Maurice Bernardin as Exposition de Brie
and Ferdinand de Lesseps, 'Baron Bonstetter as Mon-
sieur Boncenne, Adam as President, Madame Bravy
as Alba Rosea, as well as in their own names. He
knows how to conceal an eye, and to fix a petal in
its place by gum. He will add foliage, wherever he
dare. He, too, likes a few words with the judges
before they make their awards. He never saw them
in such wonderful health; in fact, their youthful ap—
pearance is almost comic. They will find the Roses
rough and coarse (which means that his own are too
small); or there is a sad want of size in the blooms
this morning (which means that his are overblown).
In accordance with the old and true proverb, his
dishonesty does not thrive. He steals several paces
in front of his brother archers, but for one arrow
hitting the gold, he misses, breaks, or loses fifty. I
remember some years ago, just as we had commenced

our survey as judges at one of the provincial shows,

AT A ROSE-SHOW 257

an exhibitor reappeared, hot and out of breath, and
‘begged pardon, but he had left a knife among his
Roses.’ He had a magnificent Rose in his coat, and,
‘ from information which I had received,’ I thought
it my duty to watch his movements without appear-
ing to do so. He left the tent with a much smaller
flower in his buttonhole, and I went immediately to
his box. There was the illustrious stranger, resplen-
dent, but with a fatal beauty. The cunning one had
hoist himself with his own petard, for he had for-
gotten another bloom of the same Rose, already in
his 24, and I at once wrote ‘Disqualified for dupli-
cates’ upon his exhibition-card. Keen must have
been the shaft which he had himself feathered from
that borrowed plume, but keener far to feel (for it was
a fact patent to all) that if he had not made the addi-
tion, he must have won the premier prize.

Another failure of empirical knavery, another slip
between the cup of silver and the lip of stratagem,
occurs to my recollection. It was my good fortune
to win a prize goblet, annually given for Roses at one
of our midland shows, so frequently, that my success
became monotonously irksome to the competitors gene-
rally, but specially to one of these covetous exhi-
bitors who grow Roses only for gain. He induced,
as it afterwards transpired, two other growers of the

Rose to combine with him in an attempt ‘to beat the
R

258 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

parson’; and so sure was this clique of success, that
they brought a couple of bottles of wine to the show,
to be quaffed from the cup, which I won easily. In
the afternoon I happened to come upon the con-
spirators drinking their port in a quiet corner of
the grounds, and one of them not only invited me
to partake, but, as from a sudden impulse, and as
though the truth must come out with the wine, in who
verz'tas, to my intense amusement, and to the still
more intense amazement of his friends, revealed all
the history of their little game. He declared that he
was thoroughly ashamed of ‘the job,’ and was heartily
glad they were beat. Truly it was a strange con-
fession, but I believe the penitence was sincere.

T/ze Despondmz‘ Ex/zz'bz'tor is also an exceptional,
but by no means discreditable, variety. He is physi—
cally incapable of festive emotions—‘a sad, gloom-
pampered man,’ but a good Rosarian, and a righteous.
If a cloud crosses the sun, he shuts up like a Gazania
or a Crocus; if a few drops of rain fall, he hangs his
head like Virgil’s Poppies,—

‘ Lassove papavera collo,
Demisere caput, pluvifi quum forte gravantur.

He never has the slightest expectation of a prize. He
has had more caterpillars, aphides, blights, beetles,

and mildews in his garden than ever were seen by

AT A ROSE-SHOW 259

man. So he tells you with a slow and solemn tone,
looking the while as though, like Mozart composing
his own requiem, he listened to some plaintive music.
I used to regard him with a tender pity, as being
unhappy. I used to sigh—

‘ Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees !’

but our further acquaintance has convinced me that
he has a relish for melancholy. I watched him once,
when I knew, but he did not, that he had won a first
prize, to see what effect success would have upon him.
He came slowly to his Roses, and read the announce-
ment with an expression of profound despair, just as
though it had been a telegram informing him that
the bank, in which he had placed his all, proposed a
dividend of fourpence in the pound.

Warned by these rare examples against anger,
avarice, and despond, assured that the horses which
rear, bite, kick, and sulk, are seldom winners of the
race, let the young exhibitor now acquaint himself
with his colleagues generally, and let him learn from
them, as from men who have not lived in vain amid
the beauties and the bounties of a garden, content—
ment, generosity, perseverance, hope. They will tell
him that the lessons of defeat will most certainly

teach him to conquer, if he will only learn them

260 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

patiently, noting his failures, and making every effort
to overcome them. Fighting for the prize, he re-
sembles in one point, and one only, I trust, the prize-
fighter—when judgment, temper, self-mastery are lost,
the battle is lost also. They will tell him not only
how to win his laurels, but how to wear them grace-
fully; in prosperity, as well as in adversity, to pre-
serve the equal mind.

But which will be his lot to-day? The crisis
approaches, and the stern mandate of the peremptory
police is already sounding in his ears, ‘ This tent must
be cleared for i/ze fudges.’

It used to be said at our flower-shows, ‘ Oh, anyone
can judge the Roses’ ; and when, few in quantity and
feeble in quality, they formed but a small item of the
exhibition, they had, of course, no special claims ; but
this indifference, unhappily, prevailed long after the
Rose had become a chief attraction in our summer
shows, and even where it was the only flower exhi-
bited. At our great Rose—shows we have almost
succeeded in eliminating from the halls of justice
incompetent judges; but elsewhere the Rosarian
takes with his Roses a very anxious heart. In the
summer of 1868, one of our most successful com-
petitors, a Leicestershire clergyman, who had just
won two first prizes at the Crystal Palace, took some

Roses equally good to a small provincial show. Facile

AT A ROSE-SHOW 261

prz'nceps, he was not even commended; and on re-
monstrating, was informed by one of the judges that
his Roses, to which precedence had been given at a
national contest, ‘were not t/ze rzg/zt sorts for exiti-
bz'tz'on.’ The fact is, that three varieties of censors
are still appointed at some of our country shows.
There is the man who loves Roses, knows and
grows them well ——his judgments will be right.
There is the man who is a clever florist and grows
Roses partially —— his judgments will be generally
right; but if the collections are large or numerous,
or nearly equal in merit, he will be perplexed to
incapacity. Thirdly, there is the man appointed to
be judge of the Roses because he once won a prize
for cucumbers, or because the mayor knows his
uncle. The latter is either, in his wise silence,
quite useless, or, in his fool’s loquacity, a dreadful
bore—dangerous wherever he has power. To the
second I would say—-

‘ Cassio, I love thee, but never more be officer of mine,’

until you know more about Roses. To the first I
take off my hat, as to a ‘chief-justice among chief—
justices,’ I and wish that he may ever preside in court
when I have a cause to plead.

The arbiter at a Rose-show should be a man who

1 So Fuller designates our great Nottinghamshire judge, Markham.

262 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

not only lives among Roses, but among Roses in their
most perfect phase. He should know the capabilities
of each separate variety, as to symmetry, colour, and
size, that he may estimate and compare accurately the
merits of the flowers before him. He should know
thoroughly their habit of growth, their peculiarities of
leaf and wood, that he may correct misnomers, and
detect additions or duplicates. He should regard his
oflice as a sacred duty, not only because justice and
honour are sacred things, but because there seems to
be a special sanctity in such beautiful handiwork of
God: and to be untruthful and dishonest in such a
presence and purity should be profane in his sight, as
though he lied to an angel. But his duty will be his
delight also, and thus, having his inclination at unity
with his conscience, and his love instructed by his
reason, he cannot fail to fulfil it. Knowing the law
thoroughly, and sifting the evidence minutely, he
must give the sentence of a righteous judge. Never
tiring, when the competition is close, in his keen and
patient scrutiny, estimating every Rose by a fixed
standard, setting down in his note-book, counting,
comparing their respective marks of merits and defect,
bringing the boxes, if distant, into close proximity,
anxiously attentive to the comments of his colleagues,
bestowing the same care upon the ‘cottager’s 6’ as

upon the ‘ nurseryman’s 72,’ he is never satisfied until

AT A ROSE-SHOW 263

all doubts are dispelled, and the award of his lips is
the sure conviction of his heart.

As the judge enters, the exhibitor leaves the show,
first turning to gaze once again upon the exquisite
beauty of the scene, the long avenues of Roses, the
fairest examples which the world can bring of its most
lovely flower. The flat surface of the boxes is pleas-
ingly diversified (or should be) by the stately palm,
the Japanese maple, the graceful fern, the elegant
Humea, by Croton, Caladium, Dracaena, Coleus, and
the like, which not only prevent the uniformity from
becoming monotonous, and the repetition wearisome,
but soften agreeably that blaze of colour which would
be, without such contrast and interruption, too bright
for mortal ken. These are placed at regular intervals
in the centre of the tables, singly, or in groups.
Pretty specimens of the silver-leafed maple (Acer
Negundo varz‘egatum), about 4 feet in height, were thus
freely introduced, and with admirable effect, at one of
the Birmingham Rose-shows.

And now there comes for the young lover who has
just made, as it were, his proposals to the Rose, a
tedious interval, a long suspense, a nervous restless
agitation. The lady has always smiled on him, but
what will papa say—2212. the judge? When next the
suitor sees his sweetheart, will she bring with her the

written approbation of his suit, even as Miss Wilson

264 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

returned from the one Professor, her father, to the
other professor, Aytoun, her lover, having a slip of
paper pinned upon her dress, and upon that paper the
happy words, ‘With the author’s compliments’?
When next the exhibitor sees his Roses, will there be
a prize-card on his box?

He wonders fretfully. He retires to his hotel. He
refreshes the outer and the inner man. What can be
the matter with the coffee-room clock? how slowly it
ticks! how the long hand lags and limps! every
minute marked upon the dial might be a pebble upon
the grass-plat of the future, blunting the scythe of
Time. Will that man with the hay fever never leave
off sneezing? Will that selfish snob in the corner
never put down the newspaper? He will, he does;
the exhibitor seizes it eagerly, and reads it, or rather
gazes vacantly upon it for nearly a minute and a half.
What are money—markets or murders to him P Sixteen
closely printed pages, and not one word about Roses !
He throws down the Times and looks out of the
window. Ah, there is a shop opposite with pictures
and photographs; strolls across; has seen them all
before; is getting rather sick of photographs; strolls
back again; must have been away ten minutes, but
coffee-room clock says three. Selfish snob in corner
writing letters with a coolness and equanimity quite

disgusting; he looks up and is recognised as rival

AT A ROSE~SHOW 265

amateur, proprietor of Marie Baumann; something
about him, exhibitor thinks, not altogether pleasing;
not a nice expression; shouldn’t say he was quite a
gentleman.

At last the malignant timepiece, having tardily an-
nounced the meridian, with a minim-rest between the
notes, as though it were a passing bell tolled in
Lilliput, and having disputed every inch of the suc-
ceeding hour, is compelled to give up its match against
time, and the exhibitor hears the thrilling sound which
proclaims the Rose—show open. He gives his best hat
a final brush; he adjusts for the last time the pretty
Rose in his coat (be still, throbbing heart beneath!) ;
and back he goes to his fate. He presents at the
door his exhibitor’s pass; and then ‘affecting to be
unaffected,’ but nervous as a girl at her first ball, he
wends his anxious way to his Roses.

What shall we find there—defeat or victory? Shall
the music of the band express to his ears the gladness

of his spirit, the triumph of his hope, or shall

. ‘ Sharp violins proclaim
Their jealous pangs and desperation’

in unison with his own? Let him be prepared for
either issue. Let him anticipate defeat, as being but
a recruit and pupil; but let him remember, when

defeated, that more than one great statesman has been

266 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

plucked for ‘Smalls ’—more than one great general
has lost his first battle—more than one Royal
Academician has had his first picture declined by the
hanging-committee. Some faint-hearted candidates
for fame never overcome a first discouragement.
Entering an exhibition of flowers and fruit at Lincoln
some years ago, I met a clerical friend, who informed
me confidentially that if I desired to know what a
melon ought to be he would forthwith gratify the wish.
Beaming with complacent smiles, he led me to the
place of melons; but when we reached it, his coun—
tenance fell. The weather was intensely hot, and the
thirsty judges had obeyed implicitly the directions of
the schedule, that the merits of the fruit were to be
decided by flavour. Half of my friend’s melon had
gone the way of all flesh (fruit), and a card resting

upon the remainder, thus announced the verdict of the

CBHSOI‘S—

FOURTH PRIZE,

IS.

In vain I essayed to mitigate his woe by cheerful, I
may say humorous, remarks as to the melon—cholic
retribution which would surely overtake those un-
righteous men. It was the sort of thing, he informed
me, with which pleasantness had no connection what-

ever, belonging, as it did, to that sphere of incidents

AT A ROSE-SHOW 267

which he described as being ‘ a long way above a joke.’
Then, with a stern but sorrowful expression, which
signified, I thought, that he was going to punish the
universe severely, in the discharge of a very painful
duty, he turned to me and said—‘1 51ml! not ex/zz'éz'l
melons agaz'n.’

Let not the young Rosarian be thus daunted. On
the other hand, if victory comes, let him remember
always that she only sz‘ays with the meek. Where
success brings pride, then, as Lamb writes in a Latin
letter to Cary, Commutandum est lee I lie! he! cum
Izeu! lzeu! [zeal and all men shall laugh at the
braggart’s fall.

Again I say, in prosperity or adversity, let him keep
the equal mind——

‘ Who misses or who wins the prize,
Go, lose or conquer as you can ;
But if you fail, or if you rise,
Be each, pray God, a gentlemani

C H A P T E R X V I
MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTHS

October.

I BEGIN with this month, because both he who desires
to form, and he who desires to maintain, or extend a
Rose-garden, must now make his arrangements for
planting in November. Each must decide what Rose-
trees and what stocks he will require, and must give
his instructions accordingly. The sooner his nursery-
man receives the order, the more satisfactorily will it
be fulfilled ; a timely communication with his collector
of Briers, if he prefers Standards, will enable that
Thessalian hero, who

‘Jumps into the quickset hedge,
To scratch out both his eyes,’

to take a survey of the surrounding fences, and to
place him first upon his list; or if, more wisely, he
desiderates the seedling Brier, or the Brier grown
from cuttings, and does not grow his own, let him

apply at once where his wants may be satisfied. The
268

MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTH 269

ground intended for Rose-trees or stocks must be
thoroughly drained and trenched to receive them.
Commence towards the end of this month the first
pruning of your Rose-trees, shortening by one-fourth
the longest shoots, and thus preventing the noxious
influence of those stormy winds, which would other-
wise loosen the hold which the tree has upon the soil,
and which sometimes decapitate the tree itself. These
cuttings will strike, many of them (just as cuttings
from the Brier will strike), if put in, about 6 inches in
length and closely in some sheltered place—by a wall,
for example—looking north or west, and protected
by a hand-glass; or they will strike, some of them,
without protection overhead, if planted in a like
situation, but deeper in the ground, 7 or 8 inches,

with two or three ‘eyes’ above the soil.

N oveméer

is the best month for transplanting. Ah, how it
cheers the Rosarian’s heart amid those dreary days,
to welcome that package from the nurseries, long and
heavy, so cleanly swathed in the new Russian mat, so
closely sewn with the thick white cord! His eyes
glisten, like the schoolboy’s when the hamper comes
from home, and hardly, though he has read the story
of Waste not, Wam‘ not, can he keep his knife from

the string. Let him plant his Rose-trees as soon as

270 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

may be after their arrival; but if they reach him,
unhappily, during frost or heavy rains, let him ‘lay
them in,’ as it is termed, covering their roots well
with soil and their heads with matting, and so wait
the good time coming. When planted they must not
be set too deeply in the soil—about 4 or 5 inches will
suffice—but must be secured (I am presuming that
the trees are chiefly low standards, according to
advice given) to stakes firmly fixed in the ground
beside them. Some gardeners plant deeply, to save,
I suppose, the trouble of staking; and indolence has
its usual result—debility. Let the Briers also be
planted as soon as received. Weakly trees may now
be carefully taken up, and, planted in fresh soil, will
often make a complete recovery.

The established Rose-trees should, if the ground
be dry and the weather fine, have a good dressing

of farmyard manure. And in

Deceméer

you sliould take advantage of the first hard frost to
wheel in a similar supply for the new-comers, the
freshly planted Rose-trees and stocks. In both cases
the manure must remain upon the ground to protect
and to strengthen too, and need not be dug in until
March. At the beginning of this month, it will be

MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTH 271

wise to give a munificent mulching to Roses of a
delicate constitution, planted out of doors—the little
Banksian, for example, the Noisettes and Tea—scented
Chinas, against our walls. Thus defended, we shall
feel less anxiety for them, when

fanuary
shall bring storm and cruel frost. Though we see
our fair fleet scudding with bare poles in the tem-
pest, we shall know that below deck there is life
and safety. We must make up our minds to some
losses among the old and young, of the worn-out
plants in our Rose-gardens, and of the weakly bud,
perhaps the best we could obtain of some new
variety, or of some delicate Tea, among our Briers;
but, with our ground well drained, and our Rose-
trees well secured and mulched, we need not fear
for the hale and strong. Seldom come such piti-
less winters as those of 1860-61, 1878-79, 1890-91,
1894-95; and though to a few feeble invalids the
white snow may be a winding-sheet, for the rest it
is His shield and covering, who giveth His snow
like wool. Wherefore sweet memories and happy
hopes come to us musing at the fireside upon our
Roses. Nor need those hours be all hours of idle-
ness. We may prepare ‘tallies’ for our trees and
cards for our cut flowers. We may repair and re-

272 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

paint our boxes, sharpen our stakes for the budded
Briers in spring, and sharpen our wits, too, by
studying the chronicles of past Rose-shows, the

manuals and the catalogues of our chief Rosarians.
In

Feérzmry

the cry is ‘All in to begin,’ as it used to be the
showman’s when we went to the fair, for no more
Rose-trees can be planted when this month has
passed. The grafting of Rose-cuttings on the Brier
or Manetti stocks, grown in pots for the purpose,
is now a very interesting process, where there is a
propagating-house, or other means, as in the tan—
bed of a stove, of supplying a regular bottom—heat
to the roots. The art may be learned in a lesson,
and I know of few things more pleasing in the
pleasant life of a Rosarian than to watch the con-
junction of stock and scion, which commences almost
immediately, the re~potting, and the gradual growth
of the Rose-tree. Darwin, in a free translation of

Virgil, has happily described this development :—

‘ On each lopped shoot a foster scion bind,—
Pitli pressed to pith, and rind applied to rind—
So shall the trunk with loftier crest ascend,
Nurse the new bud, admire the leaves unknown,
And blushing, glow with beauty not its own ’

MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTH 273

M are]:

is the month for our final pruning of all save
Noisettes and Teas. I say final, because all the
longer shoots will have been previously shortened
in October. Different varieties will, of course, reouire
different treatment; and the intentions of the oper—
ator, as well as the habit of the tree, will direct
the manipulation of the knife. Some Roses of very
vigorous growth, such as Blairii 2 and Charles Law-
son, Triomphe de Bayeux and Persian Yellow, will
not flower at all if they are closely pruned. They
will need little more excision than that which they
have already received ——- only the removal of any
weak or injured wood. Ten or twelve eyes may be
left upon the healthy shoots. With the Rose—trees
generally the question is, Does the owner wish for
number or size, quantity or quality? If the former,
let him leave five, if the latter, three eyes, on the
strong laterals, of .course cutting out the infirm.
Rose-trees grown on the Manetti stock should not
be so closely pruned as those grown upon the
Brier.

Look over the budded Briers. Rub off incipient
laterals from stems of Standards, and pull up
suckers. Breaks on the budded shoot should be

all removed, save one farthest from the bud, which
S

 

274 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

should be left a while to make the running—2'.e.
draw up the sap.

See to your stakes when the stormy winds do
blow, and toWards the end of the month dig in the
manure left about the newly—planted Rose-trees and
Briers.

A prz’l .

Prune Tea-scented, Noisette, and Bourbon Roses,
observing the previous rule—that is, cutting very
abstemiously when the growth is vigorous, as with
Maréchal Niel, Belle Lyonnaise, Gloire de Dijon,
Climbing Devoniensis, and Souvenir d’un Ami.

Cut in the budded laterals on the Briers close to
the bud, and take away all suckers and fresh growth
upon the Brier itself. Have your stakes firmly driven
into the ground by the side of each stock, and rising
about two feet above it. Watch the growth of the
bud, securing the young, tender shoot with bast to
the stake, so that it may be safe against sudden
gusts, and look out at the same time for the grub.
For now

‘ Read, ye who run, the awful truth,
With which I charge my page,—

A worm is in the bud’

of the Roses, and towards the end of this month

 

MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTH '75

a

the Rose-grub (what an amalgamation of the lovely
and the loathsome!) must be sought for constantly
and closely. The search must be continued during
the early part of

May,

and the pest will be found hidden in the curled leaf,
from which he would presently attack the Rose, as a
burglar conceals himself in the shrubbery before he
breaks into the drawing—room. Of all the months,
this to the Rosarian brings most anxiety. Nothing
so adverse to his Roses as late vernal frosts, cold,
starving nights in May. The sap is checked, the
circulation of Rose-blood is impeded, and weakness
and disease follow inevitably. The trees, which were
growing luxuriantly, suddenly cease to make further
progress. They look well to the eye; the inexperi-
enced apprehends no injury ; but the disease is there,
and the symptoms will soon show themselves. Wisely
did our forefathers fix their Rogation Days at this
most perilous time. Wisely did priest and people
go together round the boundary fields, with earnest
prayer that they might in due time enjoy the kindly
fruits of the earth. Even the heathen kept his days
of Rogation, and besought his gods ‘ul omm'a éene

)

efiorescerml; and shall the Christian call it super-

stition tolinvoke the blessings of Heaven upon corn-

276 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

field and pasture, orchard and garden, fruit and
flower?

Examine the new growth of your established Rose—
trees, and when you think that it is too abundant,
rub off here and there those breaking buds which
might weaken the plant, and prevent a wholesome
circulation of air through the crowded ‘head’ of the
Rose-tree.

A surface application of manure, as previously
recommended, should now be laid on the surface
of the soil, and this liberality may be extended to
the Briers also.

Order your selection of new Roses in pots from
the nursery, re-potting those of which you have the
best hope, and keep them under glass for a time, so
that in

june

you may bud them on some of your most forward
stocks; and then, by turning them out of their pots
into the open ground, and by encouraging them in
every way to make a fresh growth, you may obtain
a second supply of buds in the autumn, when you
will know more as to their merits.

If May has been genial, June will be glorious. If
not, we shall have t/ze ap/zz's, koney-a’ew, mildew, rust,

[arm of saw-fly, swarming like voracious ravens to

MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTH 277

peck at the wounded stag, until the poor Rosarian
is nearly driven out of his wits, as Mons. Vibert was
driven from his nursery near Paris to St. Denis, by
the ver blam- (grub of the cockchafer), which de-
stroyed all before it. Reaumur made a calculation
that, in five generations, an aphis might be the pro-
genitor of 5,904,900,000 descendants ; and a writer in
the Entomological Magazine (No. iii. p. 217) com-
municates the result of much careful observation as
followsz—‘Insects in general come from an egg;
then turn to a caterpillar, which does nothing but
eat; then to a Chrysalis, which does nothing but
sleep ; then to a perfect butterfly, which does nothing
but increase its kind. But the aphis proceeds alto-
gether on another system. The young ones are born
exactly like the old ones, but less. They stick their
beak through the rind, and begin drawing up sap
when only a day old, and go on quietly sucking
away for seven or eight days; and then, without
love, courtship, or matrimony, each individual begins
bringing forth young ones, and continues to do so
for months, at the rate of from twelve to eighteen
daily.

What is the cure? There is none. You may brush,
you may powder, you may syringe, you may dip, you
may mix your tobacco-water—your decoction of
quasia; but where the aphis has once taken pos-

278 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

session, you shall not see the Rose in its integrity.
The injury was done before the aphis came.

But there is something better than cure—there is
prevemfz'on. The aphis finds no food when the Rose-
tree is in perfect health; it will not taste the sap
which is pure and untainted; it is a leech which
sucks bad blood only. If situation, soil, and super-
vision be such as I have suggested, nothing but
weather of unusual severity will bring aphis or
harm to the Rose. Once upon a time a Rosarian
asked me ‘what I did with the green-fiy?’ I told
him truthfully that they never troubled me; and I
suppose I spoke too conceitedly; for soon after-
wards they attacked me in force for the first time
since I understood the art of Rose-growing. But
in that year (1873) the bitterness of May was extra—
ordinary, as the farmer, the fruitist, and the florist
know to their cost; and it was evident, in the dull
look of the leaf, that the trees were frost—bitten, and
that the usual consequences must come.

Early in June, the Roses intended for exhibition
should be disbudded; that is, all buds should be
removed except one or two of the largest and most
central. I believe that the late Mr. Keynes, of
Salisbury, was the first, at the suggestion of Mr. Gill,
his foreman, to try this experiment, and the superior

size of his Roses, soon made the practice general.

MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTH 279

Towards the end of the month, and at the begin-

ning of

July,

we have the Rose-shows, of which I have said my
say; and after these we must bud our Briers with
those varieties which a keen and constant observation
at home and elsewhere, in our gardens and at the
shows, has taught us to admire the most. Ample
instructions, with cleverly drawn illustrations, are
given by writers upon the Rose as to the art of
budding; but an experienced gardener, with a sharp
knife and a hank of thick cotton, somewhat resem-
bling that used for lamps, of bast, China, or Raffia
grass, will teach the amateur far more quickly and
effectively than he can possibly be taught by
books.

Should mildew make its appearance, remove the
leaves most affected, and cover the rest with flower of
sulphur when the tree is wet from shower or syringe,
giving them another good washing next day. Mr.
River recommends soot as a remedy, and kindly sent
me in a letter, some years ago, the result of a
successful experiment. ‘ Have you mildew ?’ he asks
—-—‘Zry 3002’. Some time towards the end of July a
batch of Hybrid Perpetuals, fine plants in pots, were
white with mildew.. Perry’ (his foreman) ‘tried

280 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

sulphur without end, and at last in desperation
smothered them with soot, in the dew of the morning.
This rested on them for four or five days, and was
then washed off. The effect was marvellous: the
mildew disappeared, the leaves turned to a dark
green, the buds opened freely, and the flowers were
brilliant.’

That yellow-bellied abomination, the grub which
produces the saw—fly, in this month attacks the Rose,
sucking the sap from underneath the leaf, and chang—
, ing the colour of the part on which he has fed from
bright green to dirty brown. The process of
‘ scrunching ’ is disagreeable, but it must be done.

During the continuous droughts which frequently
occur in July, it is desirable, of course, to water every
evening, where water and waterers can be had 2'72
aézma’zmce. Everywhere I would advise that the
surface of the beds be loosened from time to time
with the hoe. It will thus retain for a much longer
period the moisture of nocturnal dews. But there is
nothing like a mulching of farmyard manure.

Fading Roses should be removed from the tree,
and preserved for the 1701‘ poztrrz' jar. The other

flowers of the garden perish, but——

‘ Sweet Roses do not so :—
Of their sweet deaths are sweeter odours made.’

MEMORANDA FOR THE MONTH 281

A ugust

is also a propitious month for budding; but if the
weather is hot and the ground parched, it will be
desirable to give the beds a good drenching with
water ‘ when the evening sun is low.’

The cotton may be removed from the Briers budded
in July; it should remain about a month or six
weeks upon the stock.

Cuttings may be taken at the beginning of the
month from the ripened shoots. These must be
removed at the point from which they grow from the
old wood, and a slip of this wood must be cut off
with them, forming ‘a heel’ in gardener’s phraseology.
The cuttings about 3 inches long, should be inserted
to the depth of I inch, round the edge of a pot filled
with a light rich soil of leaf-mould and loam, with an
abundance of silver sand; and being well pressed
round the roots, and well watered through the rose,
should be put in a frame under a north wall until
they have ‘ callused.’ They should then be placed in
bottom-heat under glass, and when rooted should be
dignified with pots of their own, restored for a little
while to heat, and then gradually inured to the air,

grown on, and repotted.

Septem éer

brings us little to do, except to remove suckers and

282 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

weeds, and to enjoy our second harvest of Roses. It
is but the gleaming of the grapes, the echo of the
chorus, the after-glow of the sun; but our happiness
among the autumnal Roses is, I think, more intense
than ever. We can appreciate them more calmly
than when our eyes were dazzled by their over-
powering splendour, our attention distracted by their
infinite number, and our nervous system excited by
the shows. And we cling to them more fondly—so
soon to leave us !

To leave our gardens, but not our hearts. When,
at the end of this month, the chill evenings come, and
curtains are drawn and bright fires glow, who is so
happy as the Rose-grower, with the new catalogues
before him? The likeness so faithfully painted from
the life presents to him the original in all her grace
and beauty; and over his glass of Larose, if he has

one by him, he utters the loyal desire of his heart

‘ FLOREAT REGINA FLORUM !’

APPENDIX

A LIST OF EXHIBITION AND GARDEN ROSES

Compiled by a Select Committee of tlze National Rose Society
in tile year 1893. With Additions (printed in italics)
from that date to tlze present, by MR. BENJAMIN CANT,
of tlze Rose Nurseries, Colclzester.

EXHIBITION ROSES.

HYBRID PERPETUALS.

Wfiere varieties are descrioed as ‘ Good in autumn,’ tlzey flower freely a
second time.

Abel camera. Crimson-maroon with purplish shading. Best of its
colour.

A. K. Williams. Bright carmine-red. Good in autumn; exquisitely
‘ finished.’

Alfred Colomb. Bright carmine-red. Late, fragrant, and always
good.

Alfred Dumesnil. Rosy crimson. Distinct in colour ; fragrant.

Alphonse Soupert. Bright rose. A free-flowering, showy, early Rose.

Annie Wood. Bright red. Good in autumn; very fragrant; best on
‘cutbacks.’

Auguste Rigotard. Light carmine. Good in autumn ; fine foliage.

Baroness Rothschild. Light pink. One of the best light Roses, late
flowering; good in autumn; scentless.

Beauty of Waltham. Rosy crimson. Hardy, free-flowering, and
fragrant.

Camille Bernardin. Light crimson, paler on the edges. A very cer-
tain Rose; fragrant.

Captain Hayward. Bright carmine-crimson. Very bright Rose;
excellent under glass.

Charles Darwin. Brownish-crimson. Good in autumn; distinct in

colour.
283

284. A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

gfiarles Gater. Brownish-crimson. Best on ‘ cutbacks.’
lalxglieiiiigggassacd Purplish-crimson. One of the best Roses
Paul Jamain. grown ; very fragrant.
Clio. Pinkish flesh. Free-flowering and distinct.
Comte de Paris. Crimson, tinted with red. A good useful Rose.
Comte Raimbaud. Clear crimson. A good and reliable Rose.
Comtesse de Choiseul. Brilliant red. A fine hot-season Rose; best
on ‘cutbacks.’
Comtesse de Ludre. Carmine-red. A good and reliable Rose.
Comtesse d’Oxford. Carmine, with violet shade. Fine foliage; .
reliable Rose.
Countess of Rosebery. Cherry carminerose. Handsome foliage.
Crown Prince. Deep purplish-crimson. Very free-flowering.
Devienne Lamy. Dark reddish-crimson. Fine in autumn; of good
form ; requires brier stock.
Dr. Andry. Bright crimson. One of the best and most reliable Roses.
Dr. Sewell. Violet-crimson. Best on maiden plants; early and dis-
tinct in colour.
Duchess of Bedford. Light scarlet-crimson. A beautiful vivid Rose.
Duchesse de Morny. Silvery-rose. Distinct in colour, free-flowering,
and good in autumn.
Duchesse de Vallombrosa. Flesh, changing to white. Good and
free-flowering; impatient of wet.
Duke of Connaught. Bright velvety crimson. A free autumnal
bloomer ; rather small ; very hardy.
Duke of Edinburgh. Scarlet-crimson. One of the most brilliant;
good in autumn.
Duke of Fife. Rich crimson-scarlet. Very good in dull weather.
Duke of Teck. Light crimson-scarlet. Very bright in colour.
Duke of Wellington.
Rosieriste Jacobs.
Dupuy Jamain. Bright cerise. Very reliable, free-flowering and
hardy ; good in autumn.
Earl of Dufi‘erin. Dark crimson, shaded maroon. Late flowering;
fragrant ; drooping habit.
Earl of Pembroke. Brownish-crimson. Distinct in colour and very
good in autumn.
Eclair. Vivid scarlet-crimson. Best on ‘ cutbacks ’; finest in autumn.
Ella. Gordon. Cherry-crimson. A bright form of films. V. Verdz'er;
good in autumn.
Etienne Levet. Carmine—rose. The finest of the shell-petaled Roses.
Eugenie Verdier. 1 Light salmon-rose, deeper centre. Distinct in
Marie Finger. J colour; good in autumn.
Exposition de Brie. Shaded crimson. A good reliable Rose; fragrant.
E. Y. Teas. Bright red. Free-flowering and reliable, but rather small;
fragrant.
Ferdinand de Lesseps. Shaded crimson. A good reliable Rose;
fragrant.
Fisher ‘Holmes. Shaded crimson-scarlet. Very free-flowering, but
rather thin.

}Bright shaded crimson. Medium in size.

APPENDIX 285

Francois Michelon. Deep rose, reverse of petals silvery. Fine, but
almost a summer Rose ; long, slender growth.

Général Jacqueminot. Bright scarlet-crimson. A fine free-flowering
Rose; thin; fragrant.

Grand Mog'ul. Maroon-crimson, shaded. Very rich in colour.

Gustave Piganeau. Shaded carmine. Best on ‘ maidens’; thoroughly
perpetual.

Harrison Weir. Velvety scarlet-crimson. A distinct bright Rose;
fragrant.

Heinrich Schultheis. Pinkish rose. Charming in colour when first
open; fragrant.

Helen Keller. Rosy cerise. Distinct and very good.

Her Majesty. Pale rose. Flowers exceptionally large and of great
substance ; requires brier. Gold Medal N. R.S.

Horace Vernet. Scarlet-crimson, dark shaded. Best on ‘ maidens.’

Je$$:1§:;fl Maroon-crimson, shaded. Very rich in colour.

Jeannie Dickson. Soft silvery-rose. Distinct in colour and free-
flowering.

John Stuart Mill. Bright rosy-crimson. A good late Rose.

Lady Helen Stewart. Very bright scarlet-crimson. Very free-flower-
ing ; rather small.

Lady Shefield. Silvery cerise. Distinct in colour ; rather late.

La Rosiere. Crimson-maroon. The freest—flowering of all the dark
Roses.

Le Havre. Vermilion-red. A good lasting flower of medium size.

Louis Van Houtte. Deep crimson, shaded maroon. A grand dark
Rose.

Mme. Eugene Verdier. Silvery-rose. A fine large-petaled Rose.

Mme. Gabriel Luizet. Light silvery-pink. Most distinct in colour;
not thoroughly perpetual ; fragrant.

Mme. Henri Pereire. Crimson, shaded scarlet. Very free-flowering.

Mme. Lacharme. Nearly white. Good only in dry seasons.

Mme. Victor Verdier. Clear light crimson. One of the freest flower-
ing and best crimson Roses ; good in autumn.

Magna Charta. Bright pink, suffused with carmine. Large and
showy ; almost a summer Rose.

Marchioness of Downshire. Pink, shaded with rose. A good show
Rose.

Marchioness of Dufi‘erin. Pink. Gold medal N. R.S.

Marchioness of Londonderry. Ivory white. A fine addition to white
show Roses.

Margaret Dickson. Ivory whit-3. Gold medal N.R.S.

Marguerite Brassac. Purplish-crimson. One of the best Roses grown;
very fragrant.

Marguerite de St. Amand. Clear rosy-flesh. A good reliable Rose.

Marie Baumann. Soft carmine-red. A grand exhibition Rose;
fragrant.

Marie Cointet. Flesh pink. Best on ‘maidens.’

Marie Finger. Light salmon-rose, deeper centre. Distinct in colour ;
good in autumn.

286 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Marie Rady. Brilliant red. A fine hot-season Rose ; best
Comtesse de Choiseul. on ‘ cutbacks. ’
Marie Verdier. Pure rose. Large and fine-petaled.
Marquise de Casteuane. Clear cherry-rose. Stout, bold, and free-
flowering.
Maurice Bernardin.
Exposition de Brie. Shaded crimson. A good reliable Rose;
Ferdinand de Lesseps. fragrant.
Sir Garnet Wolseley.
Merveille de Lyon. White. One of the best white Roses.
Monsieur Noman. Pale rosy-pink. Best from maiden plants; a fine-
weather Rose ; early.
Mrs. Baker. Bright cherry-rose. A bright rose of the Victor Verdz'er
race ; early.
Mrs. Harlmess. Pinkish blush. Good in cool weather.
Mrs. John Laing. Rosy-pink. A continuous bloomer; few Roses
have so many good qualities. Gold medal N. R.S.
Mrs. R. G. Sharman Crawford. Rosy-pink. A good addition to
show Roses.
Paul Jamain. Purplish-crimson. ()ne of the best Roses grown ; very
fragrant.
Pierre Notting. Deep crimson, shaded violet. Requires fine weather;
very fragrant ; uncertain.
Pride of Reigate. Carmine, with violet shade, striped with white. A
striped Comtcme a” Oxford.
Pride of Waltham. Light salmon-pink, shaded violet. Similar in
growth and foliage to Comtesre d’Oxfora’.
Prince Arthur. Bright crimson. A free-flowering and bright form of
Giue'raljacqugmz'flot.
Prince Camille de Rohan. } Crimson-maroon. The freest-flowering of
La Rosiere. all the dark Roses.
Reynolds Hole. Deep maroon, flushed with scarlet. A good dark
Rose ; requires the brier; late.
Rosieriste Jacobs. Bright shaded crimson. MediLIm in size.
Salamander. Bright crimson. Gold medal N. R.S.
Sénateur Vaisse. Bright crimson. The best of the old crimson Roses;
good in autumn.
Sir Garnet Wolseley. Shaded crimson. A good reliable Rose ;
fragrant.
Sir Rowland Hill. Deep velvety plum. A sport from C/zarle:
que/mre. Gold medal N. R.S.
Star of Waltham. Carmine, shaded violet. Splendid foliage; a. fine-
weather Rose.
Sultan of Zanzibar. Maroon, edged with scarlet. A bright dark
Rose ; requires brier.
Suzanne Marie Rodocanachi. Glowing rose. Retains its colour well
when cut.
Thomas Mills. Bright scarlet carmine. Rather thin for the south,
but fine in the northern counties.
Ulrich Brunner. Cherry-red. A fine-pelaled Rose.
Victor Hugo. Dazzling crimson, shaded. A striking colour.

APPENDIX 287

Victor Verdict. Clear cherry-rose. One of the best of its colour.
Violette Bouyer. Tinted white. A fine light Rose ; early.
Xavier Olibo. Dark velvety crimson. Best on ‘ maidens.’

HYBRID TEAS.

Augustine Guinoisseau. White, tinted blush. A blush sport from
La France ; very free-flowering.

Captain Christy. Delicate flesh, deeper shade in centre. Requires
a. fine season and brier stock ; flowers well in autumn.

Climbing Captain Christy. Delicate flesh, deeper shade in centre.

A climbing variety of the above.

Caroline Testout. Light salmon-pink. Very distinct and free-
flowering.

Charlotte Gillemot. Ivory~white. Distinct and very pretty.

Clara Watson. \Vhite, tinted rosy~peach. Very free-flowering and
distinct.

Danmark. Rosy-pink. More upright in habit than La France.

Duchess of Albany. Dark pink. A deeper-coloured La France.

Grace Darling. Cream, shaded pink. Very distinct, and free-

flowering.

Kaiserin Augusta. Victoria. Cream, shaded lemon. A distinct, light
Rose.

Lady Mary Fitzwilliam. Rosy-flesh. Abundant bloomer and very
early.

La Fraicheur. Carmine-rose. Good flower, but bad doer.

La France. Silvery-rose, with pale lilac shading. One of the most
abundant bloomers ; highly fragrant.

Climbing La France. Silvery-rose. Climbing variety of the old
La France.

Marquise Litta. Rosy-carmine. A good addition to this class.

Mrs. W. J. Grant. Bright pink. A fine show Rose.

Viscountess Folkestone. Creamy-white, shaded flesh. Most distinct ;
a cool season variety; very good in autumn; fragrant and very
free-flowering.

White Lady. Creamy-white. A fine Rose in cool weather.

TEAS AND NOISETTES.

Most of the Teas and Noisettes have smooth wood, and are good in
autumn.

Alba. Rosea. \Vhite, centre flushed with pink. Free-flowering.

Amazone. Golden~yellow. Best in bud.

Anna Ollivier. Pale bufl', flushed. One of the best and most distinct;
variable in colour.

Bridesmaid. Clear bright pink. A very dark-coloured Cat/wring
Mermet.

Caroline Kuster. Lemon-yellow. Hardy and free-flowering.

288 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Catherine Mermet. Light rosy-flesh. At all stages a fine flower;
fragrant.
Cleopatra. Creamy-flesh, shaded rose. Fine long petals.
Climbing Devoniensis. Creamy-white, blush centre. 0f English
origin ; highly fragrant; tender.
Comtesse de Nadaillac. Peach, shaded apricot, base of petals coppery.
Very distinct and beautiful.
Comtesse de Panisse. Flesh, tinted coppery-rose. Requires a warm,
dry season.
Devoniensis. Creamy-white, blush centre. Of English origin; highly
fragrant.
Climbing Devoniensis. Creamy-white, blush centre. A climbing
variety of the above ; tender.
Corinna. Flesh-colour, shaded rose. Very free-flowering.
Elise Pug‘ier. Pale lemon. A new and bold flower.
Ernest Metz. Salmon, tinted rose. A very fine Tea.
Ethel Brownlow. Rosy-flesh, shaded yellow at base. Lasts well when
cut.
Etoile de Lyon. Deep lemon. Best in a hot season.
I-‘rancisca. Kriiger. Coppery-yellow, shaded peach. One of the
hardiest Teas.
Golden Gate. Creamy-white. Distinct and very good.
Hon. Edith Gifl‘ord. White, centre flesh. Very free-flowering and
hard .
Innocent: Pirola. Creamy—white. Very constant and good.
Jean Ducher. Salmon-yellow, shaded peach. Very free-flowering,
hardy, and distinct in colour.
Josephine Malton. White, centre flushed with pink. F ree-flowering.
Jules Finger. Bronzy-rose. Beautiful in autumn.
La. Boule d’Or. Golden-yellow, outer petals paler. Free-flowering,
but diflieult to open.
Mme. Bravy. )
Alba Rosea. , White, centre flushed with pink. Free-flower-
Josephine Malton. ing.
Mme. de Sertot.
Mme. Gusin. Violet-rose, yellow base. F rec-flowering and distinct;
tender ; fragrant.
Mme. de Sertot. \Vhite, centre flushed with pink. F rec-flowering.
Mme. de Watteville. Cream, bordered rose. Very distinct; tender;
fragrant.
Mme. Hippolyte Jamain. White, with coppery-yellow centre. Late
flowering.
Mme. Hoste. Pale lemon-yellow. Distinct and free-flowering.
Mme. Lambard. Salmon, shaded rose. One of the hardiest of the
Teas ; very variable in colour.
Mme. Margottin. Citron-yellow, centre rosy-peach. Diflicult to
open ; very fragrant.
Maman Cochet l’ink shaded, with salmon-yellow. A fine show Rose.
Maréchal Niel (N.). Deep bright golden-yellow. The finest yellow
Rose; highly fragrant.

APPENDIX 289

Marie Van Houtte. Lemon-yellow, petals edged with rose. One of
the most distinct and best of the Teas.
Medea. Lemon colour. Good in dry weather.
Monsieur Furtado. Sulphur-yellow. Rather small ; requires generous
treatment.
Mrs. Pierpont Morgan. Bright cerise. A very high-coloured Aime.
Cusz'n.
Niphetos. White. The whitest of all Tea Roses ; tender.
Climbing Niphetos. White. A climbing variety of the above.
Perle des Jardins. Bright straw-colour. Good in autumn; uncertain
in form.
Climbing Perle des Jardins. Bright straw-colour. A climbing
variety of the above.
Princess of Wales. Rosy-yellow. Very variable in colour.
Rubens. White, shaded with creamy-rose. One of the finest of the
light-coloured Teas ; fragrant ; early.
Souvenir d’filise Vardon. Cream, with rosy tint. An exquisite Rose.
Souvenir de Paul Neyron. Creamy-white, with rosy tint. Very free-

flowering.
Souvenir de s. A. Prince. Pure white. A white sport from Sou-
The Queen. venir d’zm A mi.

Souvenir de Therese Levet. Brownish-crimson. The darkest Tea.

Souvenir d’un Ami. Pale rose. A useful, hardy, rose-coloured Tea.

The Bride. White, tinged lemon. A sport from Cal/wring M'ermet;
fragrant.

The Queen. Pure white. A white sport from Souvenir (l’zm Ami.

BOURBON.

Mme. Isaac Periere. Light carmine. Good in autumn.
Mrs Paul. Blush—white, shaded peach. Best on ‘cutbacks’ and
standards. Gold Medal N. R.S.
Souvenir de la Malmaison. Blush-white, shaded flesh. Best in
autumn ; very free-flowering.
Climbing Souvenir de la Malmaison. Blush white, shaded flesh.
A climbing variety of the above.

GARDEN ROSES.

SUMMER FLOWERING, except those marked *
PROVENCE ROSES (ROSA CENTIFOLIA).

Cabbage or Common. Rosy-pink. Very fragrant ; best on own roots ;
requires close pruning.
Crested or Cristata. Rosy-pink, paler edges. Very fragrant; best
on own roots ; requires close pruning.
White or Unique. Paper-white. Very fragrant; best on own roots;
requires close pruning. ’
'1‘

290 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

MINIATURE PROVENCE 0R POMPON ROSES.

Burgundy. Pale purplish- pink. Very small.

De Meaux or Pompon. Rosy lilac. A sport from Spring.
Spong. Rosy-lilac. A somewhat larger flower than De Alaaux.
White Burgundy. White, slightly tinted.

MOSS ROSES (ROSA CENTIFOLIA MUSCOSA).

Baron de Wassenaér. Light crimson. Flowers in clusters.

Blanche Moreau. I’ure white. The best white moss.

Celina. Crimson, shaded purple. Very free-flowering; a good dark
moss.

Common or Old. Pale rose. Very fragrant.

Comtesse de Murmais. White. Very free.

Crested. Rosy-pink. Well mossed.

Gloire dos Mousseuses. Rosy-blush. One of the largest.

Laneii. Rosy—crimson.

Little Gem. Crimson. Small flowers , \ery pretty.

*Madame Edouard Ory. Rosy-car1nine.A perpetual bloomer.

Muscosa. Japonica. Crimson. Leaves, calyx, and stem mossed.

*Perpetual White, or Quatre Saisons Blanche. Pure white. Bl00m~
ing in clusters.

*Salét. Pale pink. A perpetual bloomer.

White Bath. White. Of English origin, and, like all the Mosses,
only valuable in bud.

MINIATURE MOSS ROSES.

De Meaux. Rosy-pink. Rather delicate constitution.
Little Gem. Crimson. Beautifully mossed.

FRENCH AND DAMASK ROSES (ROSA GALLICA AND Rosa
DAMASCENA).

Commandant Beaurepaire. Bright rose, striped purple, violet and
white.

(Eillet Parfait. Blush, striped white and pink.

Red Damask. Red. Self— red form of Rosa Illundr’.

Rosa Mundi. Red, striped white. Rom Gal/1m I errz'color.

Village Maid. White, with 51 1ty -red coloured stripes.

York and Lancaster. Pale rose or white, sometimes striped. Rosa
ZIImza’i or Village Man! is generally but incorrectly known as
this Rose.

ALBA ROSES (ROSA ALBA).

Celestial. Light blush. Bluish foliage.
I’élicité. Pale blush.
Maiden’s Blush. Flesh, darker centre. In Kew collection in 1797.

APPENDIX 291

HYBRID CHINA, HYBRID BOURBON, AND HYBRID
NOISETTE ROSES (ROSA INDICA HYBRIDA).

Blairii No. 2. Blush, with rose centre. A grand Climbing and Bush
Rose.

Charles Lawson. Vivid rose. A grand Bush Rose.

Chénédolé. Bright red. A good Pillar Rose.

Coupe d’Hébé. Deep pink. A good Pillar Rose.

I-‘ulg‘ens. Bright crimson. A good Pillar Rose.

Madame Plantier. Pure white. Very free-flowering.

AUSTRIAN BRIAR ROSES (ROSA LUTEA).

Austrian Copper. Coppery-red. 2 Grown in England in 1596 by
Austrian Yellow. Yellow. John Gerard.

Harrisonii. Golden-yellow.

Persian Yellow. Deep golden-yellow.

SCOTCH ROSES (ROSA SPINOSISSIMA).
In Various Colours. White, various shades of red, and pale yellow.
Very free and hardy.
PERPETUAL SCOTCH ROSE.

*Stanwell Perpetual. Pale blush. One of the earliest and latest to
flower.

SWEET BRIAR (ROSA RUBIGINOSA).

Common. Pale pink. Foliage deliciously fragrant.
Double Scarlet. Rosy-red.
Double White. Flesh white.

Janet’s Pride. White, shaded and tipped crimson. A distinct break
in this class.

LORD PENZANCE’S HYBRID SWEET-BRIERS.
Anne of Geierstein. Dark crimson. The foliage of all these varieties

Amy Robsart. Deep rose. is very sweetly scented, the
Brenda. Maiden’s blush. plants are hardy and free-
Jeannie Deans. Scarlet-crimson. flowering, and, after bloom—
Lady Penzance. Coppery—yellow. ing, they produce bright scar-
Lord Penzance. Fawny—yellow. let seed-pods which are very
Meg Merrilees. Crimson. pretty in autumn.

AYRSHIRE ROSES (ROSA ARVENIS HYBRIDA).

Bennett’s Seedling or Thoresbyana. White.

Dundee Rambler. White, pink edges.

Queen. Purple.

Ruga. Pale flesh. Sweet-scented; glossy foliage.

Splendens or Myrrh Scented. White-tinted flesh. A Climbing Rose,
blooming in clusters. Like all in this Section.

292 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

BOURSAULT ROSES (ROSA ALPINA).

Amadis or Crimson. Purplish-crimson. -
Gracilis. Bright pink. i GOOd dimbers‘

EVERGREEN ROSES (ROSA SEMPERVIRENS).

I-‘élicgé Perpétué. Creamy-white. A very free and good Climbing
ose.

I-‘lora. Bright rose.

Leopoldine d’Orléans. White, tipped red.

Princess Marie. Pink.

Rampant. Pure white.

BANKSIAN ROSES (ROSA BANKSIA).

Alba or White. White. Violet-scented. Half-hardy and sub~ever-
green.
Lutea. or Yellow. Yellow. Half-hardy and sub-evergreen.

AUTUMN FLOWERING.

HYBRID PERPETUAL 0R IIYBRIDE REMONTANTE ROSES
(ROSA DAMASCENA HYBRIDA).

Abel Grand. Silvery-pink. Early, free-flowering, and fragrant.

Annie Laxton. Clear rose. One of the earliest to bloom.

Boule de Neige. Pure white. A hybrid Noisette, flowering in clusters.

Bruce Findlay. Shaded crimson. Bright and free-flowering.

Centifolia Rosea. Bright light rose. Fragrant.

Charles Lamb. Carmine-red. Good foliage.

Cheshunt Scarlet. Bright crimson-scarlet. A beautiful vivid bud.

Comtesse CéCile de Chabrillant. Pale pink. Perfect in shape, but
somewhat small.

Gloire de Margottin. Very bright red. A very bright red Pillar Rose.

Gloire de Rosoméne. Scarlet-crimson. A showy Pillar Rose.

Glory of Cheshunt. Shaded crimson. A good Bush Rose.

Henri Ledechaux. Clear cherry-red. Back Of petals very bright ;
good in autumn.

John Hopper. Bright rose, reverse of petals pale lilac. Good early
rose.

Jules Margottin. Cherry-red. Free-flowering.

Mme. Bellenden Kerr. \Vhite, flushed pink. Small, but beautiful in
shape and colour.

Mme. Clémence Joig‘neaux. Lilac-rose. Bold and distinct in growth
and foliage.

Maréchal Vaillant. Bright crimson. Also known as chat Dzwz'm'ztr.

Miss Hassard. Rosy-pink. Very hardy, early, and fragrant.

Monsieur Bonqenne. Very dark, shaded crimson. Best in hot
seasons ; also known as Baron de Bunstettm.

APPENDIX 293

Mrs. Harry Turner. Crimson-scarlet. Very telling in colour.

Paul Neyron. Bright rose. The largest Rose grown.

Princess Louise Victoria. Salmon-pink, pale edges. A fine Pillar
Rose.

Princess Mary of Cambridge. Pale silvery-pink. A good early pink
Rose.

White Baroness. Pure white. Good in autumn.

William Warden. Salmon-pink. A beautiful pink sport from Mme.
C. fozjg‘neaux.

HYBRID TEAS (ROSA INDICA ODORATA HYBRIDA).

Bardou Job. Glowing crimson. A hardy and very distinct Rose.

Camoens. Glowing rose, yellow base. Particularly free in autumn.

Cannes 1a Coquette. Pale fawn, shaded flesh. Very free in autumn.

Cheshunt Hybrid. Cherry-carmine, shaded violet. An abundant
bloomer and a good early Rose; distinct.

Gloire Lyonnaise. White, lemon base. The nearest approach to a
yellow Hybrid Tea.

Gustave Regis. Nankeen-yellow. Distinct, and beautiful in bud.

Lady Henry Grosvenor. Blush-white, shaded peach. Very free-
flowering.

Mme. Pennet Ducher. Canary-yellow. Very pretty buttonhole.

Marquess of Salisbury. Bright crimson. A semi-double bedding
Rose.

Reine Marie Henriette. Cherry-carmine. A distinct Climbing Rose.

Souvenir de Wootton. Light crimson. Very free-flowering.

Waltham Climber, No. 3. Crimson. Useful dark Climbing Variety.

The following HYBRID PERPETUALS AND HYBRID
TEAS, included and described in the Catalogue of
Exhibition Roses, are also good Garden Roses.

Alphonse Soupert, Annie Wood, Baroness Rothschild, Camille
Bernardin, Captain Christy, Charles Lefebvre, Comte Raimbaud,
Comtesse d’Oxford, Crown Prince, Dr. Andry, Duke of Connaught,
Duke of Edinburgh, Dupuy Jamain, Earl of Pembroke, Fisher Holmes,
Général Jacqueminot, Grace Darling, Heinrich Schultheis, Jeannie
Dickson, La France, Mme. Gabriel Luizet, Mme. Victor Verdier,
Magna Charta, Marie Finger, Marie Rady, Merveille de Lyon, Mrs.
John Laing, Pride of Waltham, Prince Arthur, Prince Camille de
Rohan (La Rosiére), Senateur Vaisse, Ulrich Brunner, Violette Bouyer,
Viscountess Folkestone.

BOURBON ROSES (ROSA BOURBONIANA).

Accidale. White. A very useful climber.
Armosa. Pink.
Setina. Pink. A climbing variety of Armora.

294 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

The following BOURBONS included and described in the

Catalogue of Exhibition Roses are also good Garden
Roses.

Mme. Isaac Pereire, Mrs. Paul, and Souvenir dc la Malmaison.

CHINA ROSES (ROSA INDICA).

Cramoisie Supérieure. Velvety crimson. Very free, flowering in
clusters.

Ducher. Pure white. Very free, flowering in clusters.

Duke of York. Rosy-pink and white. A distinct and good addition
to this class.
Pabvier. Dazzling crimson with white stripe. The brightest colour
in this class, and like the two preceding, a good bedding Rose.
James Sprunt. Velvety-crimson. A climbing form of Cramoz'sz'e
Supe’rz'eurc.

Laurette Messimy. Rose, with yellow base. A new colour among
the Chinas.

Mrs. Bosanquet. Pale flesh. Very free, flowering in bunches.

01d Blush or Common Monthly. Pale pink. Almost always in
flower.

Old Crimson. Deep velvety-crimson. Very free, flowering in clusters.

Red Pet. Dark crimson. Fine for bedding.

White Pet. Creamy-white. Fine for bedding.

TEA AND NOISETTE ROSES (ROSA INDICA ODORATA).

Aimée Vibert (N.). Pure white. Very free-flowering and almost
evergreen.

Alister Stella Gray. Pale yellow. A good free-flowering miniature
Rose; climber.

Belle Lyonnaise. Deep lemon. A distinct variety of the Clair: dc
Dijon race.

Beauté Inconstante. Coppery-red. Very pretty buttonliole variety.

Céline Forestier (N.). Pale yellow, deeper centre. A good useful
Rose ; distinct in foliage and habit.

Bouquet d’Or. Dark yellow. An improved G/oz'rc (1e Dijon.

Comtesse R128. du Parc. Bronzy-rose. Distinct in colour.

Dr. Grill. Rose, with coppery shading. Distinct and free-flowering.

Emilie Dupuy. Lemon yellow. Very hardy.

Fortune’s Yellow. Carmine-yellow. A good climber in a warm
situation.

Gloire de Dijon. Buff, or salmon yellow. The parent of a distinct,
hardy, and strong-growing race of Teas ; fragrant.

Goubault. Rosy-buff. Remarkably fragrant.

Homere. Rose edge, light base. A pretty Rose in bud.

Isabella Sprunt. Lemon-yellow. Beautiful pointed bud.

APPENDIX 29;

Lamarque (NJ. Pure white, shaded lemon. A fine climber, but only
half-hardy.

L’Idéal (N.). Metallic red, tinted yellow. Distinct and charming in
its variable colour ; hardy.

Luciole. Bright rose, tinted coppery-yellow. Distinct in colour.

Ma Capucine. Bronzy-yellow, shaded red. Distinct and beautiful in
bud.

Mme. Bérard. Fawn yellow. A free-flowering and distinct variety of
the Gloire de Dijon race.

Mme. Charles. Bright apricot. A strong-growing Safrano.

Mme. Chédane Guinoisseau. Clear bright yellow. A fine buttonhole
Rose.

Mme. Falcot. Deep apricot. Very free-flowering.

Mme. P. Ferny. Saffron yellow. Beautiful bud.

Mme. Willermoz. Creamy-white, centre tinted. One of the hardiest
of the Teas.

Marquise de Viuens. Bright carmine-rose. Very pretty bud.

Ophirie (N. ). Nankeen and copper. A thoroughly autumnal climber.

Papa Gautier. Pinkish-rose. Thin, but very handsome.

Princesse de Sagan. Deep cherry-red, shaded maroon. Makes a good
bedding rose.

Réve d’Or. Buff-yellow. A most vigorous and free-flowering climber ;
nearly evergreen.

safrano. Apricot-yellow. Very free-flowering.

Sunset. Apricot, shaded yellow. Good in autumn ; bronzy foliage.

William Allen Richardson (N. ). Deep orange-yellow, white edge.
Most novel in colour and beautiful in bud. '

The following TEAS AND NOISETTES, included and
described in the Catalogue of Exhibition Roses,
are also good Garden Roses.

Anna Ollivier, Caroline Kuster, Climbing Devoniensis, Climbing
Niphetos, Climbing Perle des Jardins, Francisca Kriiger, Mme. Hoste,
Mme. Lambard, Marie Van Houtte, Perle des Jardins, Rubens,
Souvenir de S. A. Prince, Souvenir de Therese Levet, Souvenir d’un
Ami.

HYBRID CLIMBING ROSES (ROSA HYBRIDA SCANDENS).

Long'worth Rambler. Light crimson. A useful evergreen Climbing
Rose.

Mme. Alfred Carriére (H. N.). White, yellowish base. Large, deli-
ciously fragrant, and very perpetual.

Mme. d’Arblay. Flesh, changing to white. Blooming in clusters.

The Garland. Blush, changing to white. Especially free-flowering.

Reine Olga de Wurtenberg (H. N.). Bright light crimson. A fine
climber, with magnificent foliage.

296 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

POLYANTHA ROSES (ROSA MULTIFLORA).

Cécile Brunner. Blush, shaded pale pink.

Clothilde Soupert. White, shaded pink.

Gloire des Polyantha. Deep rosc, white base. . . .
Mme. Anna. Maria. de Montravel. White. Frce'flowermg mmm'
Ma. Paquerette. White. tum Roses'
Mig‘nonette. Rosy-pink.

Perle d’Or. Nankeen-yellow.

CLIMBING POLYANTI‘IA.

Claire Jacquier. Nankeen-yellow. Small flowers; very pretty; a
handsome climber.

Turner’s Crimson Rambler. Bright crimson. A grand hardy
climber for any situation.

JAPANESE ROSES (ROSA FEROX OR RUGOSA).

Alba. White. A fine single Rose.

Mme. Georges Bruant. White. Very free-flowering; a probable
hybrid.

Rubra. Deep rose, shaded violet. A red variety of Aliza.

Hebe’s Lip (Hy/I. Sweet-Brier). White with Picotee edge of purple.
A most distinct and beautiful summer Rose.

Paul's Carmine Pillar. Bright rosy-carmine. A good pillar Rose.

Paul’s Single White. White. A very free-flowering autumnal hybrid
of Noisette.

Rosa. Alpina. Bright rose. Leaves changing colour in autumn.

Rosa. Brunonis Moschata. Pure white. Flowers in large trusses;
fine golden centre.

Rosa. Indica. (Lowe’s variety). Soft red. Ever blooming.

Rosa. Lucida. Bright red. Beautiful reddish foliage.

Rosa Bracteata. White. Requires a south wall.

Rosa. Macrantha. Flesh. A form of Rosa Gallica; large flowers
with golden stamens.

Rosa Moschata Nivea. White, tinted pink. Vigorous climber.

Rosa. Multiflora. Pure white. Known as I’onanI/Ia Simplex.

Rosa Multiflora Grandiflora. Pure white. Known as Polyant/za
Grandi 0m.

Rosa. Pomifera. Blush. Large scarlet tips.

Rosa. Rubrifolia. Soft rose. Stems and foliage of a beautiful red
shade.

Rosa. Setigera. (Prairie Rose). Pink. The ‘ Bramble-leaved Rose.’

HYBRIDS OF SPECIES.

Marie Leonida. White. Glossy, waxy foliage; requires a warm
position.
Rosa. Lucida Plena. Rose. A double variety of Rosa [.mia’a.

Ma": "

INDEX

APHIS, the, 276.

Arrangement of Rose-garden, 103.
Artisans, Roses of, 12.

Austrian Brier, the, 176.
Ayrshire Roses, I37.

BANKSIAN ROSES, 139.
Bones as manure, 84.
Bourbon Roses, 182.
Boursault Roses, 142.
Boxes for exhibition, 226.
Brier, the, as a stock, 216.
Briers, management of, 217.
Budding Roses, 220.

CAPS FOR ROSES, 230.

China Roses, 178.

Classification Of Roses, 157, 174.
Clay soil, management of, 73.
Climbing Roses, 125.

Colours, arrangement of, 239.
Cost of Roses, 51, 214.

DAMASK ROSES, 179.
EXHIBITOR, the Irascible, 251.
~—— the Covetous, 255.

—— the Despondent, 258.

FAILURE, causes of, 6, 53 et seq.

GARDEN ROSES, 157.
Gardens, past and present, 107.

 

Greece, Roses of, 37.
Guano, 86.

HEDGES OF THE Row, 57.
Horticultural Clubs, 195.
Hybrid Perpetual Roses, I81.
Hybridizing, 188.

JUDGING ROSES, 260.

LARVA OF SAW-FLY, 280.
Light soil, management of, 76.

MANETTI ROSE, the, as a stock,
216.

Manures, 82.

when to apply, 92.

Maréchal Niel, culture of, 132.

Memoranda for the months, 268.

Mildew, 279.

Moss for Show-Roses, 228.

Moss-Roses, 17o.

 

NATIONAL ROSE-SHOW, 193.
revival of, 129.
New Roses, 283 et seq.
Nightsoil, 86.

Noisette Roses, 184.

 

 

OLD MONTHLY ROSE, 177.

PILLAR 0R PYRAMIDAL ROSES,

i44-
Planting Briers, 219, 270.

298 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES

Planting Roses, 214, 268.
Preparation for Rose-Show, 233.
Provence Roses, I61.

Pruning, 268, 273.

ROMAN Roses, 38.

Rosarians, the old, 185.
Rose-grub, the, 274.

Roses, best form of training, 118.

 

—— for walls, 283.
for pots, 283.
Rose-Shows, history of, I93.

 

SEEDLING BRIERS, 218.
Show—Rose, definition Of, 210.
Show-Roses, when to cut, 234.
Site for Rose-garden, 53.

 

for exhibition, 207, 212, 282.

 

Soils, 65.

Soot, 85, 279.

Stocks for Roses, 219.
Supremacy of the Rose, 47.
Sweet-Brier, the, 175.

TALL STANDARDS, 154.

Tea Roses, 222.

pruning, 273.
Town gardens, Roses for, 63.
Tubes for exhibition, 229.

 

 

UBIQUITY OF THE ROSE, 42
VARIEGA'I‘ED ROSES, 174.

WALKS, 1 16.
\Veeping Rose-trees, 155.

 

Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty
at the Edinburgh University Press

 

 

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I oo

)

1 Mr. E dward Arnold’s

 

mew~ Movelss.

PAUL MERCER.

@ Q'ai’e of (Repentance among Qpif’i’ions.
By the Hon. and Rev. JAMES ADDERLEY.
Aul/wr of ‘S/cf/zm lx’czzzm-J.’

One vol., crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

JOB HILDRED.

@tfirsf anb Carpenfer.
By Dr. RICHARDS.

Edited by ELLEN F. PINSENT.
Aux/tor o/“jemzy’x Case,’ ‘ No Plan/hr chem‘ame,’ ctr.

One vol., crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

THE KING WITH TWO FACES.

By M. E. COLERIDGE,
AMI/[or of‘ 7715 Seven Sleeps/w (jpr/iesm,’ air.

One vol., crown 8vo., 65.

THE SON OF A PEASANT.

By ED‘VARD LICNULTY,
Auf/zor of ‘ le'JI/I-cr O’A’ycm,’ cir.

One VOL, crown 8vo., 65.

NETHERDYKE.

By R. J. CHARLE'I‘ON,
Ant/Mr of ‘A’rzw‘art/c Tozun,’ c/r.

One vol., crown 8vo., 65.

a o
I at

New Books and Annoumemefi‘ts. 9

 

(the Sportsman’s iLibrarQ.

Edited by the RT. HON. SIR HERBERT MAXWELL, Brian, M.P.,
TWO NEW VOLUMES.

REMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN.

By the HON. GRANTLEY F. BERKELEY.

With a Coloured Frontispiece and the original Illustrations by JOHN
LEECH, and several Coloured Plates and other Illustrations by G. R.
JALLAND.

Large 8vo., handsomely bound, I 5s. Also a Large-Paper Edition,
limited to 200 copies, two guineas net.

These reminiscences, by one well known among sportsmen of his day,
consist of an interesting medley of records of the chase, observations on
men and manners of the time, notes on natural history, and experiences
in shooting and fishing. The author was a bit of a character, and his
peculiarities are faithfully reflected in his pages. As a master of hounds
he forms a curious link with a bygone state of things, when his father
hunted the whole country between Bristol and Kensington Gardens.

THE ART OF DEER—STALKING.

By WILLIAM SCROPE.

With F rontispiece by EDWIN LANDSEER, and 9 Photogravure Plates of .
the original Illustrations.

Large 8vo., handsomely bound, 15s. Also a Large-Paper Edition,
limited to 200 copies, two guineas net.

The author of this book, which has long been in the first rank of
literature of the forest, was an example of the best kind of sportsman.
A highly cultivated scholar and a painter far more accomplished than
most amateurs, Scrope had a keen eye for a great deal more than the
mere pursuit of game. He filled his notebook with traditions and
anecdotes collected among stalkers and gillies in an age before
compulsory education had driven old-world lore out of their heads, and
wove them into his treatise on deer-stalking wth great taste and literary
skill.

10 Mr. Edward Arnold’s

 

(the Eportsman’s itbrarg.
Edited by the RIGHT HON. SIR HERBERT MAXWELL, BART., MP.

A Re-issue, in handsome volumes, of certain rare and entertaining books on
sport, carefully selected by the Editor, and illustrated by the best sporting
artists of the day, and with reproductions of old plates.

Library Edition, 155. a Volume.

Large Paper Edition (limited to 200 copies), 2 guineas a volume.
The EARL OF COVENTRY writes 2 'I think the idea of a " Sportsman's Library" an

excellent one, So many now follow various sports that a library of the old books brought
out again will be very attractive.’

Sir RALPH PAYNE-GALLWEY, Bart, writes: 'Just the class of work to be popular,

1whether in the shelves or lying on the smoking-room table. A pleasure to read, see, and
and e.’

VOLUME 1.
THE LIFE OF A FOX, AND THE DIARY OF A
HUNTSMAN.

By THOMAS SMITH, Master of the Hambledon and Pytchley Hounds.

With Illustrations by the Author, and Coloured Plates by
G. H. JALLAND.

' It will be a classic of fox-hunting till the end of time.’— Yorkshire Post.

VOLUME 11.

A SPORTING TOUR THROUGH THE NORTHERN
PARTS OF ENGLAND AND GREAT PART OF
THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND.

By COLONEL T. THORNTON, of Thornville Royal, in Yorkshire.

With the Original Illustrations by GARRARD, and other Illustrations and
Coloured Plates by G. E. LODGE.

' Sportsmen of all descriptions will gladly welcome the sumptuous new edition issued by
Mr. Edward Arnold of Colonel T. Thornton's “Sporting Tour," which has long been a
scarce book.’-——Daz'[y News.

VOLUME III.

THE SPORTSMAN IN IRELAND.
By a COSMOPOLITE.

With Coloured Plates and Black and White Drawings by P. CHENEVIX
TRENCH, and reproductions of the Original Illustrations drawn by R. ALLEN
and engraved by W. WESTALL, A.R.A.

‘ The book is one to be read and enjoyed.’——Saiurday Review.

4;

New Books and A nnouncements. II

volumes of Eport, (travel anb Hbventure.
RECENTLY PUBLISHED. - '

WILD NORWAY :

With Chapters on the Swedish Highlands, Jutland, and Spitzbergen.
By ABEL CHAPMAN, Author of ‘ Wild Spain,’ etc.

With seventeen full-page Illustrations and numerous smaller ones by the
Author and CHARLES WHYMPER.

Demy 8vo., 165.

‘ There is not a chapter in this book which would not be missed.‘——.S‘pectator.
A very good, very accurate, and deeply interesting book of wild life and natural history.‘—-lllus-

hated Starting and Dramatic News.
‘Will be read with keen interest by the angler, the hunter of wild game, and the student of bird

life.'-——Scotsman.
‘ It will be found not only an invaluable but a delightful companion by the sportsman, the angler,

and the ornithologist.’— Times.

THROUGH UNKNOWN AFRICAN COUNTRIES.

The First Expedition from Somaliland to Lake
Rudolf and Lamu.

A Narrative of Scientific Exploration and Sporting Adventures.
By A. DONALDSON SMITH, M.D., F.R.G.S.

With nearly thirty full-page Plates and numerous smaller Illustrations by
A. D. MCCORMICK, CHARLES WHYMPER, etc., and detailed Maps
of the countries traversed.

Super royal 8vo., One Guinea net.

‘ Will be of the greatest interest to sportsman, traveller, and man of science.’—Pall Mall Gazette.

'Since the publication of Stanley’s “Across the Dark Continent,”there has been no work of
African travel equal, in scientific importance and thrilling interest, to Dr. Donaldson Smith’s book.
As a book of exciting spurt, apart from its ge graphical and ethnological usefulness, it deserves to
stand alongside the best experiences of the toughest Anglo-Indian shikaris.'—Dail)/ Telegra/lt.

'While to the large class of people interested in African exploration this book is indispensable,
sportsmen will find in its pages a wealth of exciting incidents rarely equalled in similar works.'-St.

lames's Gazette.

ON VELDT AND FARM:

In Cape Colony, Bechuanaland, Natal, and the Transvaal.
By FRANCES MCNAB. 2.
gVVith Map. Crown 8vo., 300 pages, 35. 6d.

‘Well worth the study of those interested in the agricultural and general development of South
Africa. '—Saturday Review.

‘ A delightful book, and we can confidently recommend it as far more worth reading than many a
work of infinitely greater pretensions. The whole work is full of interest, and is, moreover, written
in a style that compels the attention of the reader.'~— Globe.

‘ Abounds in interesting and useful informationJ—Daily rans.

v

12 M V. E dward Arnold’s List.

 

SOLDIERING AND SURVEYING IN BRITISH EAST
AFRICA, 1891-1894.

An Account of the Survey for the Uganda Railway, and the various
Campaigns in the British Protectorate during the last few years.

By Major J. R. MACDONALD, R.E.

Illustrated trom Sketches and Photographs by the Author and numerous
Plans and a Map.

Demy 8vo.. 165.

N0 country in the world has had greater need of an impartial historian than Uganda, and, strange
to say, though the bitter feelings engendered by the struggles of the past ten years have not had time
to cool, one has been found among the actors in these stormy scenes—Major Macdonald. . . . No
one who reads this exciting book of adventure can regret that we are spending £3,000,000 on the
railway. Major Macdonald writes with considerable literary and historical skill, and his sketches
and maps are all excellent.’—Pa11 Mall Gazette.

‘The illustrations from photographs and sketches are better than any we have seen of this part of
the Dark Continent, and the maps are distinctly good.‘—-Drzz'l_y Chronicle.

MEMORIES OF THE MONTHS.

Leaves from a Field Naturallst’s Note=book.

By the Right Hon. Sir HERBERT MAXWELL, Bart, M.P.

Crown 8vo., with four Photogravure Illustrations, 65.

‘ It is a very long time since we have read so pleasant a book as this.’—Daily Chronicle.

‘ Most agreeably and freshly written.’—F121¢Z.

‘ Few books will fill the idle moments of a country-loving man more pleasantly.’—Britz'rlz Rcm'y'zv.
‘ The easy style, the graphic descriptions of bird-life, and of the ways of beasts and fishes, the clever

sketches of sport, the happy introductions of plant-lore and of fragments of myth and legend, will
ensure a warm welcome for this delightful volume.‘—l)ai1y News.

FISH TAILS AND SOME TRUE ONES.
By BRADNOCK HALL, Author of ‘ Rough Mischance.’

With an original Etching by the Author, and twelve full-page
Illustrations by T. H. MCLACHLAN.

Crown 8vo., 65.

‘ This is one of the best books of angling reminiscences I have ever come across.’—Fislu'ng Gazelle.
‘ A pleasant companion for an angler's holiday.‘——Glaijtrow Harald.

‘ Witty, in the best taste, and abounding with sympathetic interest to the angler. . . . The illus
trations are exceedingly good. . . . The stones are capital, every one.'—Field.

Books of Travel, Sport, and Adventure. I3

 

tDolumes of (travel, fiport, anb gabventure.

 

Bacon—THE CITY OF BLOOD. (See page 3.)
Balfour—TWELVE HUNDRED MILES IN A WAGGON. A Nar-

rative of a Journey in Cape Colony, the Transvaal, and the Chartered Company's
Territories. By ALICE BLANCHE BALFOUR. With nearly forty original Illustrations
from Sketches by the Author, and a Map. Demy 8vo., cloth, 16s.

Beynon—WITH KELLY T0 CHITRAL. By Lieutenant W. G. L.
BEYNON, D.S.0., 3rd Goorkha Rifles, Staff Officer to Colonel Kelly with the Relief
Force. With Maps, Plans, and Illustrations. Demy 8vo., 7s. 6d.

Bottome—A SUNSHINE TRIP: Glimpses of the Orient.

Extracts from Letters written by MARGARET BOTTOME. With Portrait, elegantly
bound, 4s. 6d.

Bull—THE CRUISE OF THE ‘ANTARCTIC.’ To the South Polar
Regions. By H. J. BULL, a member of the Expedition. With frontispiece by W.
L. WYLLIE, A.R.A., and numerous full-page illustrations by W. G. BURN—MURDOCH.
Demy 8vo., 15$.

Chapman—WILD NORWAY. (See page It.)
COIVile—THE LAND OF THE NILE SPRINGS. By Colonel Sir

HENRY COLVILE, K.C.M.G., C.B., recently British Commissioner in Uganda. With
Photogravure Frontispiece, 16 full-page Illustrations and 2 Maps. Demy 8vo., 165.

Custance— RIDING RECOLLECTIONS AND TURF STORIES. By

HENRY CUS'I‘ANCE, three times winner of the Derby. One vol., crown 8vo., cloth,
as. 6d.

Freshfield — THE EXPLORATION OF THE CAUCASUS. By
DOUGLAS W. FRESHFIELD, lately President of the Alpine Club and Honorary Secretary
of the Royal Geographical Society. With Contributions by H. W. HOLDER, J. G.
COCKIN, H. WOOLLEY, M. DE DECIIY, and Prof. BONNEY, D.Sc., F.R.S. Illustrated
by 3 Panoramas, 74 full-page Photogravures, about 140 Illustrations in the text, chiefly
from Photographs by VITTORIO SELLA, and 4 Original Maps, including the first
authentic map of the Caucasus specially prepared from unpublished sources by Mr.
FRESHFIELD. In two volumes, large 4to., 600 pp., Three Guineas net.

Gordon——PERSIA REVISITED. With Remarks on H.I.M. Mozuffer-
ed-Din Shah, and the Present Situation in Persia (1896). By General Sir T. E.
GORDON, K.C.I.E., C. B., C. S.I. Formerly Military Attaché and Oriental Secretary
to the British Legation at Teheran, Author of ' The Roof of the World,’ etc. Demy
8vo., with full-page illustrations, 105. 6d.

Hall—FISH TAILS AND SOME TRUE ONES. (See page 12.)
Hole—A LITTLE TOUR IN AMERICA. By the Very Rev. S.

REYNOLDS HOLE, Dean of Rochester, Author of ‘The Memories of Dean Hole,’
‘ A Book about Roses,’ etc. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo., 16$.

Hole—A LITTLE TOUR IN IRELAND. By ‘OXONIAN’ (the Very

Rev. S. REYNOLDS HOLE). With nearly forty Illustrations by JOHN LEECH.
Large crown 8vo., 65.

Knight-Bruce—MEMORIES OF MASHONALAND. By the late

Right Rev. Bishop KNIGHT-BRUCE, formerly Bishop of Mashonaland. 8vo., 105. 6d.

Macdonald—SOLDIERING AND SURVEYING IN BRITISH
EAST AFRICA. (See page 12.)

I4 Mr. Edward Arnold’s Lz'st.

McNab—ON VELDT AND FARM. (See fiage II.)
Maxwell—THE SPORTSMAN’S LIBRARY. (Seepage: 9 and to.)
Maxwell—MEMORIES OF THE MONTHS. (See page 12.)
Pike—THROUGH THE SUB-ARCTIC FOREST. A Record of

a Canoe Journey for 4,000 miles, from Fort Wrangel to the Pelly Lakes, and down
the Yukon to the Behring Sea. By WARBURTON PIKE. Author of ‘The Barren
Grounds of Canada.’ With illustrations by CHARLES VVHYMPER, from Photographs
taken by the Author, and a Map. Demy 8vo., 16s.

Pollok—FIFTY YEARS’ REMINISCENCES OF INDIA. By

Lieut.-Colonel POLLOK, author of ‘ Sport in Burmah.’ Illustrated by A. C. CORBOULD.
Demy 8vo., 16$.

Portal—THE BRITISH MISSION TO UGANDA. By the late Sir
GERALD PORTAL, K.C.M.G. Edited by RENNELL RODD, C.M.G. With an Intro-
duction by the Right Honourable LORD CROMER. G.C.M.G. Illustrated from
photos taken during the Expedition by Colonel RHODES. Demy 8vo., 21$.

Portal—MY MISSION TO ABYSSINIA. By the late Sir GERALD

H. PORTAL, C. B. With Map and Illustrations. Demy 8vo., 155.
Slatin—FIRE AND SWORD IN THE SUDAN. (Sccpage 6.)
Smith—THROUGH UNKNOWN AFRICAN COUNTRIES. (See

page I 1.

Stone—IN AND BEYOND THE HIMALAYAS: ARecord of Sport

and Travel. By S. J. STONE, late Deputy Inspector-General of the Punjab Police.
With 16 full-page Illustrations by CHARLES \VHYMPER. Demy 8vo. , 16$.

 

AMERICAN SPORT AND TRAVEL.

T lime 1700,53, selectedfi'om. [Ire Gnu/(agar of MESSRS. RAND MCNALLY & CO., file we!!-
bnown publishers qf Chicago. lmve been flared in MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S hand: under
the impression #111! many Erin's/z Tram/[M's and Sportsmen mayfifin’ {lzem useful tie/ore
starting on expeditions in the United Starts.

Aldrich—ARCTIC ALASKA AND SIBERIA; or, Eight Months

with the Arctic Whalemen. By HERBERT L. ALDRICH. Crown 8vo., cloth, 4s. 6d.

AMERICAN GAME FISHES. Their Habits, Habitat, and Pecu—

liarities; How, When, and Where to Angle for them. By various Writers. Cloth,
105. 6d.

Higgins—NEW GUIDE TO THE PACIFIC COAST. Santa Fé

Route. By C. A. HIGGINS. Crown 8vo., cloth. 4s. 6d.
Lefiingwell—THE ART OF WING - SHOOTING. A Practical

Treatise on the Use of the Shot-gun. By W. B. LEFFINGWELI.. With numerous
Illustrations. Crown 8vo., cloth, 4s. 6d.

Shields—CAMPING AND CAMP OUTFITS. By G. O. SHIELDS

(‘Coquina '). Containing also Chapters on Camp Medicine, Cookery, and How to
Load a Packhorse. Crown 8vo., cloth. 55.

Shields—THE AMERICAN BOOK OF THE DOG. By various

Writers. Edited by G. O. SHIELDS (‘Coquina ’). Cloth, I55.
Thomas—SWEDEN AND THE SWEDES. By WILLIAM WIDGERY

THOMAS, jun, United States Minister to Sweden and Norway. With numerous
Illustrations. Cloth, 165.

Fiction. 15

 

Works of fiction.

RECENTL Y PUBLISHED.

A DEVOTEE :
An Episode in the Life of a Butterfly.

By MARY CHOLMONDELEY, Author of ‘ Diana Tempest,’ ‘The
Danvers Jewels,’ etc.

Crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

‘ The many readers and admirers of that fine novel “ Diana Tempest ” will welcome a new book by
Miss Cholmondeley with interest and high expectation, and it is pleasant to be able to inform them
that they will not be disappointed. A most original and truthful sketch.’—— Westminster Gazette.

‘Another of Miss Cholmondeley’s clever social sketches from the world about her.’—Manch¢:fcr

Guardian.
‘ Miss Cholmondeley's sketches of young men and women belonging to fashionable society are as

clever as ever.’-—A t/zena’um. .
The story is written with Miss Cholmondeley’s usual vigour, brilliancy, and delicacy.’—Guardz'an.

A RELUCTANT EVANGELIST,
AND OTHER STORIES.

By ALICE SPINNER,
Author of ‘ Lucilla,’ ‘ A Study in Colour,’ etc.
Crown 8vo., 65.

‘ Good, too, is Miss Spinner’s budget oi short stories. “' Buckra Tommie" is an exquisitely
pathetic story.'—Palt Mall Gazette.

‘ Vivid and suggestive studies.’—Spectatar.

‘ Remarkably clever studies of life and character.’—Lady.

INTERLUDES.
By MAUD OXENDEN.

Crown 8vo., 65.

‘An admirably written book. The author is to be congratulated on the strength with which she
portrays men and women, and describes the passions of love or of grief that sometimes fill the mmd.’

——Scatsman.

THE BAYONET THAT CAME HOME.
By N. WYNNE WILLIAMS,
Aut/zor (j ‘ Tales of [Modern Greece.’
Crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

‘ Well worth reading.’—Li1/e7poot Mercury. .
‘ Enthrals the reader to the end.’——Jtandzester Couner.

6: M 7. Edward Arnold’s List.

 

Works of fiction.

‘ Adalet ’—HADJIRA : A Turkish Love Story. By ‘ADALET.’ r vol.,

crown 8vo., cloth, 65.

Adderley—STEPHEN REMARK. The Story of a Venture in Ethics.

By the Hon. and Rev. JAMES ADDERLEY, formerly Head of the Oxford House and
Christ Church MiSsion, Bethnal Green. Twenty-Second Thousand. Small 8vo.,
elegantly bound, 35. 6d. Also, in paper cover, [5.

Adderley—PAUL MERCER. (See page 7.)
BIatchford—TOMMY ATKINS. A Tale of the Ranks. By ROBERT

BLATCHFORD, Author of ' A Son of the Forge,‘ ‘ Merrie England,’ etc. New Edition.
Crown 8vo., cloth, 35. 6d.

Charleton—NETHERDYKE. (See page 8.)
Cherbuliez—THE TUTOR’S SECRET. (Le Secret du Précepteur.)

Translated from the French of VICTOR CHERBULIEL One vol., crown 8vo., cloth, 65.
Cholmondeley—A DEVOTEE. By MARY CHOLMONDELEY. (See
page I5-)
Clifford—LOVE-LETTERS OF A WORLDLY WOMAN. By Mrs.

W. K. CLIFFORD, Author of ‘Aunt Anne,’ ‘Mrs. Keith's Crime,‘ etc. One vol.,
crown 8vo., cloth, 25. 6d.

Coleridge—THE KING WITH TWO FACES. (See page 8.)
Collingwood—THE BONDWOMAN. A Story of the Northmen in

Lakeland. By \V. G. COLLINGWOOD, Author of ‘ Thorstein of the Mere,’ ‘ The Life
and Work of Iohn Ruskin,’ etc. Cloth, I6mo., 35. 6d.

Crane—GEORGES MOTHER. By STEPHEN CRANE. Author of
‘ The Red Badge of Courage.’ Cloth, 25.

DuanPe—ORMISDAL. A Novel. By the EARL OF DUNMORE,
F. R.G. 5., Author of ‘The Pamirs.‘ One vol., crown 8vo., cloth, 65.

Ford—0N THE THRESHOLD. By ISABELLA 0. FORD, Author of

‘ Miss Blake of Monkshalton.‘ One vol., crown 8vo., 35. 6d.

Gaunt—DAVE’S SWEETHEART. By MARY GAUNT. One vol.,
8vo., cloth, 35. 6d.

Hall—FISH TAILS AND SOME TRUE ONES. (Scepage 12.)
Hutchinson—THAT FIDDLER FELLOW: A Tale of St. Andrews.

By HORACE G. HUTCHINSON, Author of ‘My Wife's Politics,’ ‘Golf,' ‘Creatures
of Circumstance,‘ etc. Crown 8vo., cloth, 25. 6d.

Fiction and Adventure. I7

 

Knutsford—THE MYSTERY OF THE RUE SOLY. Translated by

Lady KNUTSFORD from the French of H. DE BALZAC. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d.

McNulty—MISTHER O’RYAN. An Incident in the History of

a Nation. By EDWARD MCNULTY. Small 8vo., elegantly bound. 35. 6d.

McNulty—SON OF A PEASANT. (See page a.)
Montrésor—WOR’I‘H WHILE. By F. F. MONTRESOR, Author of

‘ Into the Highways and Hedges.‘ Crown 8vo., cloth, as. 6d.

Oxenden—INTERLUDES. (See page 15.)
Pinsent—JOB HILDRED. (See fage 7).
Prescott—A MASK AND A MARTYR. By E. LIVINGSTON PRES-

COTT, Author of ‘ Scarlet and Steel.’ Cloth, 65.

Spinner—A RELUCTANT EVANGELIS'I‘. (See page 15.)
Williams—THE BAYONET THAT CAME HOME. (Seepage 15.)

(tales of Elbventure for $3095.
CloweS—THE DOUBLE EMPEROR. By W. LAIRD CLOWES, Author

of ‘The Great Peril,’ etc. Illustrated. Crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

Fawcett—SWALLOWED BY AN EARTHQUAKE. By E. D.

FAWCET'I‘. Illustrated. Crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

Fachtt—HARTMANN THE ANARCHIST; or, The Doom of the

Great City. By E. DOUGLAS FAWCETT. With sixteen full-page and numerous
smaller Illustrations by F. T. JANE. Crown 8vo., cloth, 35. 6d.

Fawcett—THE SECRET OF THE DESERT. By E. D. FAWCETT.

With numerous full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d.

Hervey—THE REEF OF GOLD. By MAURICE H. HERVEY. With

numerous full—page Illustrations, handsomely bound. Gilt edges, 55.

Hervey—ERIC THE ARCHER. By MAURICE H. HERVEY. With

numerous full-page Illustrations. Handsomely bound. crown 8vo., 55.

Munroe—THE FUR SEAL’S TOOTH. By KIRK MUNROE. Fully

illustrated. Crown 8vo., cloth, 55.

Munroe—SNOW-SHOES AND SLEDGES. By KIRK MUNROE.

Fully illustrated. Crown 8vo., cloth, 55.

Munroe—RICK DALE. By KIRK MUNROE. Fully illustrated.

Crown 8vo., cloth, 55.

Nash—BAREROCK; or, The Island of Pearls. By HENRY NASH.
With numerous Illustrations by LANCELOT SPEED. Large crown 8vo., handsomely
bound, gilt edges, 55.

18 M 7. Edward Arnold’s List.

works on Science anb philosophy.

RECENTL Y PUBLISHED.

WASTED RECORDS OF DISEASE.

By CHARLES E. PAGET, Lecturer on Public Health in Owens College,
Medical Officer of Health for Salford, etc.

Crown 8vo., 25. 6d.

‘ We welcome Mr. Paget’s attempt to indicate the lines on which efforts at reform may
be successful.'—Briti:/z .llm’iml loumal.

' An admirable common-sense statement of the case.'—Yorles}zire Post.
‘ An interesting summary of what has been done to register diseases.'——Srmz'lmjv Journal.

G‘The importance of disease registration is lucxdly and ably discussed.’-—Pall Mall
aufle.

THE RELIGIONS OF INDIA.

By E. \V. HOPKINS, Ph.D. (Leipzig), Professor of Sanskrit and
Comparative Philology in Bryn Mawr College.

One volume, demy 8vo., 85. 6d. net.

‘ Ought to meet avery distinct want. Professor Hopkins has ample learning. He knows
the sacred books as few men do. He is also an independent student and critic. . . . A
valuable bibliography, with works and articles classified under subjects, and a good index
should be mentioned.'—.l[mzc/ze52‘er Guardian.

A TEXT-BOOK OF NURSING FOR HOME AND
HOSPITAL USE.

By C. \VEEKS SHAW.

Revised and largely re~written by W. RADFORD, House Surgeon at the
Poplar Hospital, under the supervision of Sir DYCE DUCKWORTH, M.D.,
F.R.C.P.

Fully Illustrated, crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

‘ A careful perusal of its pages has convinced us that at present the book has no equal. . . .
May justly be described as a standard work of its kind, and one for which we foresee an
extensive circulation.'—H05piml.

‘ The teaching in the book is modern and thoroughly practical.’—Scottz':h [Medical and
Surgical Jaurnal.

‘ The book is invaluable alike in the home and in the hospital ward.’——Cape Times.

‘ Should be in the hands of every nurse who is anxious to qualify herself in her profes—
sion.'-—Nurses’ journal.

‘ We can recommend the book to nurses and practitioners alike.’—Larzcet.

New Scientific Books. 19

THE CHANCES OF DEATH, AND OTHER STUDIES
IN EVOLUTION.

By KARL PEARSON, F.R.S., Author of ‘The Ethic of Free Thought,’ etc.

 

In two vols., demy 8vo., with Illustrations, 255. net.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.—The Chances of Death—The Scientific Aspect of Monte
Carlo Roulette—Reproductive Selection—Socialism and Natural Selection—Politics
and Science—Reaction—VVoman and Labour—Variation in Man and Woman.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II. ——Woman as Witch—Ashiepattle ; or, Hans seeks his Luck
——Kindred Group Marriage—The German Passion Play—Index.

‘We have pleasure in welcoming a new work of extreme scientific value and of deep
popular interest. ’—Szzturday Review.

‘Worthy of the high reputation which Mr. Pearson has already earned.'—Briti:lz
Review.

‘ All of these essays are well worth reading.’—-Times.

‘ Full of interest as regards their subject, and of animation in point of style.'—Daily
T elegraplz.

‘These brilliant volumes contain the most satisfactory work that Professor Pearson
has yet done.’—Speal:er.

HABIT AND INSTINCT.

@ gfubg in fiercbitg.

By C. LLOYD MORGAN.
Author of ‘ Animal Life and [ntellzgemcf ‘ The Springs ofConduct,’ etc.

Demy 8vo., 165.

‘A valuable book on a fascinating subject.’— Times.
‘ An exceedingly interesting volume.'—Britislz Review.

‘It is a book that no one interested in the larger problem of existence can afford to
neglect. '—A cademy.

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20 Mr. Edward Arnold’s List.

 

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Works of General Literature. 2!

Works in General literature.
RECENTLY PUBLISHED.

A TREASURY OF MINOR BRITISH POETRY.

Selected and Arranged, with Notes, by J. CHURTON
COLLINS, M. A.

Handsomely bound, crown 8vo., 7s. 6d.

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THE TREATMENT OF NATURE IN DANTE’S
‘DIVINA COMMEDIA.’

By L. OSCAR KUHNS.
Professor in \Vesleyan University, Middleton, U.S.A.

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A BOOK ABOUT ROSES.

By the Very Rev. S. REYNOLDS HOLE, Dean of Rochester.
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22 M 7. Edward Arnold’s List.
THE BEGGARS OF PARIS.

Translated from the French of M. LOUIS PAULIAN.
By Lady HERSCHELL.

Crown 8vo., paper boards, 192 pages, IS.

 

 

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9
WAGNER S HEROINES :
BRUNHILDA~SENTA—ISOLDA.
By CONSTANCE MAUI),
Arr/liar Ly” ‘ ”Wagner’s Heroer.’
Illustrated by J. \V. MAUD. Crown 8vo., 5s.

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THE PLANT-LORE AND GARDEN-CRAFT OF
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By HENRY N. ELLACOMBE, M.A,, Vicar of Bitton,

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Works of General Literature. 23

Aglen—OLD TESTAMENT HISTORY. (seepage 5.)
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History and Biography. 25

 

Works of1bi5torg anb Biography.

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Cawston and Keane—THE EARLY CHARTERED COMPANIES.

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Clough—MEMOIRS OF ANNE CLOUGH. (Seepage 3.)
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Gardner—ROME : THE MIDDLE OF THE WORLD. (See page 4.)
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Hole—MORE MEMORIES: Being Thoughts about England Spoken
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Leaky—THE POLITICAL VALUE OF HISTORY. By W. E.
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Le Fanu—SEVENTY YEARS OF IRISH LIFE. By the late W. R.

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Oman—A HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By CHARLES OMAN, Fellow

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Twining—RECOLLECTIONS OF LIFE AND WORK. Being

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mractical 5cicnce manuals.
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Brown—POULTRY-KEEPING AS AN INDUSTRY FOR FARMERS
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Ellacombe—IN A GLOUCESTERSHIRE GARDEN. By the Rev.

H. N. ELLACOMBE. Vicar of Bitten, and Honorary Canon of Bristol. Author of
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Hole—6A BOOK ABOUT ROSES. (See page 21.)
H01t—-FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. By ARDERN HOLT. An

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Kenney - Herbert — FIFTY BREAKFASTS : containing a great

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Kenney - Herbert — FIFTY DINNERS. By Colonel KENNEY-

HERBERT. Small 8vo., cloth, 2s. 6d.

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Shorland—CYCLING FOR HEALTH AND PLEASURE. By L.

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ILLUSTRATED LIST OF BOOKS FOR PRESENTS
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New Books and Announcements.

2:

 

31
311%; to authors.
._.°.__-
PAGE PAGE
ADAMS. —-The Palace on the Moor . . 28 DE VERE.—Recollections . . . 2
ADDERLEY. .—-Steph§£ Remarx . . I: DUNMORE.—Ormisdal . . . 16
Paul ercet . . ELLACOMBE. _ I '

AGLEN. —Old Testament History . . 6 Garden . . n a Gloucestershire 27

ALDR‘CH- "Amtic AlaSka . - - I4 ELLACOMBE. —The Plant Lore of Shake-
AMERICAN GAME FISHES . . . I4 Speare . . . 22
BACON.- City of Blood . 3 FAWCETT. ——Hartmann the Anarchist . 28
BALFOUR.—-—Twelve Hundred Miles in a .. Riddle of the Universe . 20
Waggon . 13 ,, Secret of the Desert . .28
BELL, MRS. —Kleines Haustheater . . 23 .. Swallowed by an Earthquake 28
BELL (REV. CANON). ~The Gospel the FIELD —Master Magnus. . 28
Power of God . . 22 FLEMING —Art of Reading and Speaking 23
.. Sermons . . 23 FORD. —On the Threshold . . 15
.. Diana 5 Looking Glass , , 23 FOWLER. —Echoes of Old County Life . 25

.. Poems Old and New , 23 FRESHFIELD.—Exploration of the Can-
BENSON. —Men of Might. 25 casus . . I3
BERKELEY.— Reminiscences of a Hunts GARDNER.—Friends of Olden Time 28

man . . 9

BEYNON. —With Kelly to C hitral I 3
BLATCHFORD. -Tommy Atkins I6
BOTTOME. —-A Sunshine Trip . I3
BOYLE. —Recollections of the Dean oi”
Salisbury . 25
BROWN. —Works on Poultry Keeping 27
BRYAN. —Mark In Europe . 2O
BULL. —The Cruise of the ‘ Antarctic' I 3
BURBIDGE. —Wild Flowers In Art 27
BURGESS. —Political Science . . 2O
BUTLER. —Select Essays oi Sainte Beuve 23
CAWS’I‘ON.—The Early Chartered Com-
panies . . . 25

CHAPMAN. —Wild Norway . . .
CHARLETON. —Netherdyke . . . 8

CHERBULIEZ.—The Tutor's Secret . 16
CHILDREN'S FAVOURITE SERIES 28
CHILDREN’S HOUR SERIES . 28
CHOLMONDELEY. —A Devotee . . I 5
CLIFFORD. —Love-Letters . 16

CLOUGH. ——Memoir of Anne]. Clough 3

CLOUSTON. —Early English Furniture . 6
CLOWES.——Double Emperor . . . 28
COLERIDGE.—-King with Two Faces . 8
COLLINGWOOD. — Thorstein . 23
The Bondwoman.16

COLLINS. —A Treasury of Minor British
Poetry . 21
COLVILE.-—Land of the Nile Springs I 3
COOK. —S1dney 5 Defense of Poesy 23
,, Shelley’s Defence of Poetry 23
COSMOPOLITE. —Sportsman' In Ireland IO
CRANE. —George’ 5 Mother . 16
CUNNINGHAM. —Draughts Manual. . 27
CUSTANCE. ——-Riding Recollections . 13
DAVIDSON.—Handbook to Dante 23

 

 

Rome: Middle of World . 5

GARNETT. —Selections In English Prose .

L: AUNT. —Dave’ s Sweetheart . .16
GLEICHEN. —\Vith the British Mission to

Menelik . . . . 4

GORDON. ——Persia Revisited

I
GOSCHEN. ——Cultivation and Use of the 3
Imagination . . 23
GOSSIP. ——Chess Pocket Manual . . 27
GREAT PUBLIC SCHOOLS . 23
GUMMERE. -Old English Ballads . 23
HADJIRA . . . . . 16
HALL. —Fish Tails . . . 12
HANS ANDERSEN. —Snow Queen . 28
Tales from . .28
HARE. ——Life and Letters of Maria Edge-
worth . 25
HARRISON. —Early Victorian Literature . 24

HARISHORNE. —Old English Glasses . I

HERSCIIELL.—-Parisian Beggars 22
HERVEY. -—Eric the Archer . . 28
Reef Of Gold. . 28

HIGGINS. — New Guide to the Pacific
Coast . . I4
HOLE. —Addresses to Working Men . 24
,, Book about Roses . . . 21:
,, Book about the Garden . . 27
,, Little Tour in America 13
,, Little Tour in Ireland 13
,, Memories . . . 25
More Memories . . . 25
HOLT. ——Fancy Dresses Described . . 27
HOPKINSON. —Toby’ s Promise 28
HOPKINS. —Religions of India . . r8

HUDSON—Life, Art, and Characters of
Shakespeare
Harvard Shakespeare
HUNT. —What IS Poetry? .

32 Mr. Edward Arnold’s New Books (5' Announcements.

PAGE

HUTCIIINSON.—That Fiddler Fellow . 16
INTERNATIONAL EDUCATION SERIES . 29
JOHNSTON.—- Joel. - a Boy of Galilee . 28
KAY. —Omarah’ s Yaman. . . 25
KENNEY- HERBERT.—Fifty Breakfasts . 27
,, ,, Fifty Dinners . 27

,, ,, Fifty Lunches . 27

,, ,, Fifty Suppers . 5
,, Common-sense

Cookery . 27
KNIGHT-BRUCE. —Memories of Mashona-

land . . . . . I3
KNOX. —Hunters Three . .28

KNUTSFORD. —Mystery of the Rue Soly . I7
KUHNS. —The Treatment of Nature in
Dante . . . . . . 21

LANG—Lambs Adventures of Ulysses . 24
LEADER—Autobiography of Roebuck . 2
LECKY.—Political Value of History. . 25
LE FANU.—Seventy Years of Irish Life . 25
LEFFINGW ELL. —Art of Wing-Shooting. I}
LEGH. —How Dick and Molly went round

the World . 28

LEGH. -—How Dick and Molly saw Eng-
land . . . . 28
LEGH. -——\Iy Dog Plato . . . 28
LOTZE. —- Philosophical Outlines . . 20

MACDONALD —— Memoirs of Sir John
Macdonald . 25

MACDONALD. —Soldiering and Surveying
in British East Africa . . I2
MAUD. —Wagner' 5 Heroes . . . 24
Wagner 5 Heroines . . 22

MAXWELL. —The Sportsman’ 5 Library . IO
Memories of the Months . I2

MCNAB. —On Veldt and Farm . . II
MCNULTY. —-Misther 0' Ryan . . . 17
Son Of a Peasant . . 8

MILNER. —England In Egypt . . . 25
,, Arnold Toynbee . . . 26
MONTRESOR.—W01th While . . . 17
More Beasts for Worse Children . . 7
MORGAN—Animal Life . . . . 2o
,, Habit and Instinct . . 19

,, Psychology for Teachers . 2o
Springs of Conduct . . 2o
MORPHOLOGY, JOURNAL OF . . . 20
MORRISON. —Life' 5 Prescription . . 24
MUNROE.—Fur Seal’ 5 Tooth . . . 28
,, Rick Dale . . 28

,, Snow- shoes and Sledges . 28
NASH.——Barerock . . . . . 28
NATIONAL REVIEW . . . . 30

OMAN. —History of England . . . 26

 

PAGE

OXENDEN. —Interludes . . . 15
PAGE’I‘. —Wasted Records of Disease . I

PEARSON. -—The Chances of Death . . 19
PERRY. —Calculus for Engineers . . 19
PHILOSOPHIrAL REVIEW . . 20

PIKE. ‘Through the Sub- Arctic Forest . I4
PILKINGTON. —-An Eton Playing- -Field . 26
PINSENT— J-ob Hildrcd . 8
POLLOK. —Fifty Years' Reminiscences 0?
India . . .14
POPE. —Memoirs of Sir John Macdonald. 25

PORTAL. ——-British Mission to Uganda . I4
,, My Mission to Abyssinia . I4
PR ACI‘ICAI. SCIENCE MANUALS . . 26
PRIMSCOI‘I —A Mask and a Martyr. . I7
PULI'I‘ZER. -Romanc1 of Prince Eugene. 26
RALEIGH. — RObeIt Louis Stevenson . 26
,_ Style.
RANSOME. —B. lIIlCS of Frederick the Great 2%
RAYMOND —M115hroom Cave. 28
ROCHEFOR T. — I he Adventures of My Life 26
RODD. -—B.1ll3.d5 Of the Fleet . . . 6
RODD. —W0rks by Rennell Rodd . . 24
ROEBUCK. —.=\11tobiography . . . 2
SANI‘LEY. —St11dent and Singer . . 26
SCHELLING. —Elizahethan Lyrics . . 24
Ben jonson s Timber . 24
SCROI’I: .—-Art of Deer-Stalking . 9
SHAW. —A ’Iext Book of Nursing . . 18
SHERARD. —Alphonse Daudet. . 26

SHIELDS. —Camping and Camp Outfits . I4
SHIELDS. —American Book Of the Dog . I4
SHORLAND. — Cycling for Health and
Pleasure . . 27
SICHEL. —The Story of Two Salons. . 24
SIMPSON. — Many Memories ofMany People 4
SLATIN. —-F1re. and Sword In the Sudan . 7

SMITH. —The Li.c ofa Fox . . IO

,,'Ihrou<1h Unknown African

( ountries . . 11
SPINNER. —A Reluctant Evangelist. . I5
S'.r0NE ——In and Beyond the Himalayas . I4
TATIIAM.—Men of Might . . . 25
THAYEIL—Best Elizabethan Plays . . 24
THOMAS—Sweden and the Swedes . . I4
TIIORN'I‘ON.—-A Sporting Tour . . IO
TOLLEMACHE. ——Benjamin Jowett . . 26
TWINING. -— Recollections of Life and

Work . . . . . . 26
WHITE. ——P1easurz tble Bee- Keeping. 27

WILD FLOWERS IN ARI‘ AND NAIURE 27
WILLIAMS. —The Bayonet that came

Home . . . . . . I5
WINCHEerR COLLEGE . . . . 24
YOUNG—General Astronomy . . . 20

 

 

a.