July 9, 1885, ] 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
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COMING EVENTS 
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10 
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Hereford (Roses). Norwich (Roses). 
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National Rose Society’s Show, Manchester. Sidcup. 
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Sixth Sunday after Trinity. 
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Royal Horticultural Society—Committees at 11 A.M.; 
Show of Plants 
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Bedford. Moreton-in-Marsh (Roses). 
[and Flowers. 
ROSES ANCIENT AND MODERN. 
HIRTY-SEVEN years have elapsed since I in¬ 
serted my first Rose bud, and I cannot remem¬ 
ber a time when I felt more proud than when 
told by my great authority, the under gardener, 
a wonderfully clever youth in his way, aged 
seventeen, that my precious bud had “ taken.” 
shall never forget that Rose, though I cannot 
fv j> tell its correct name. It had the darkest, richest, 
and most velvet-like blooms I have ever seen, 
and was known in those days as the Crimson Velvet. It 
opened too much—that was its fault, and often showed a 
golden centre, hut ther9 is not one Rose seen at exhibitions 
to equal it in the texture of its petals and its depth of colour, 
which is not surpassed by the darkest of single Dahlias. I 
fear this distinct old Rose is lost. If I had been half as 
sharp as Mr. Bennett I might have some “ pedigree ” Roses 
now darker than his ; hut it is no use grieving. A favourite 
dark Rose in those days, very double, hut flat, was the 
Standard of Marengo, a famous grower and bloomer. Our 
best “ tree ” of it was worthy of the name, for the stem was 
8 feet high, quite self-supporting, and the head certainly 
12 feet in circumference—a fine object in its season, rising 
above the shrubs. 
The finest light Rose of the period was Souvenir de la 
Malmaison, almost new then, and caused quite a sensation. 
It is still one of the most useful of Roses for garden decora¬ 
tion, as with a little judgment in pruning, and not a little 
liquid manure, it will flower three times a year. It is also 
occasionally seen in exhibition stands, but it is essentially a 
garden Rose, one of the first to flower in the summer, and 
one of the last to cease flowering in the autumn. It is one 
of the best Roses for massing in beds, and associated with 
the dark crimson Queen of the Bedders or General Jacque¬ 
minot the effect is beautiful; it is also equal to any and 
superior to most for growing in gardens near towns, or where 
smoke is prevalent, and one of the best companions for it 
there is the charming old favourite the common Moss Rose, 
of which it is not easy to have too many when there is a 
large family of young swells and fair damsels always wanting 
something for bouquets and buttonholes. 
The most generally admired rose-coloured variety in 
1848 in our collection, and it was considered large in those 
days, was Coupe d’Hebe, and when caught in its prime it is 
questionable if there is a more pleasing Rose of its colour 
now. It was possibly the more valued because it enjoyed 
the reputation of being the Queen’s favourite, but it really 
required no royal patronage to enforce its charms. A favour¬ 
ite white Rose in the garden was Blanchefleur, neat, com¬ 
pact, nearly pure, but delicate ; it is perhaps “ gone.” 
Its rival was Acidalie, which remains one of the best of 
garden Roses still; and so also remain huge bushes of the 
Maiden’s Blush, perhaps the hardiest of all, and will last 
longer and produce more blooms in poor soil than any other 
Rose I know. 
We had also in those days several bushes of the York-and- 
No. 263. —Yol. XI., Third Series. 
Lancaster, not the carnation-flaked Village Maid that has 
often passed for it, but the true old historic Rose, sometimes 
all red, sometimes half red half white, the petals striped 
and marbled. These, with many other good things that would 
now be cherished, were driven away by “improvements.” I 
know where I could get armfuls of the Village Maid that 
is prized as the York-and-Lancaster, this latter, a much less 
free grower and bloomer, being, I suspect, scarce. I know 
where it is, but the stock is limited. 
The yellow Rose most valued was the Double Persian, and 
there is not one to surpass it yet for coat-decoration, the haflf- 
expanded blooms being just of the right size, and the colour 
so soft and pleasing. Larger and brighter was Harrisoni, but 
less free, yet undeniably beautiful. We had also another 
yellow Rose, the brightest of all, and the brightest still, for I 
have never seen a Marechal Niel to equal it in the Crocus¬ 
like yellow of its petals. It had no name, but was just called 
the “ Old Yellow,” and old the tree was, with its gnarled 
stem, wiry shoots, and small leaves, but such rich golden 
blooms that are not commonly seen now, because only a few 
persons own this rare old Rose. The old tree referred to has 
been dead long ago, and some young ones that I reared are 
also “ gone.” I have been since told that the correct name 
of this Rose is Rosa sulphurea, and if it is, all I can say is 
that if such a Rose were introduced or raised now, it would 
not be endowed with such a modest name, for the blooms are 
as bright as a Buttercup, but, the truth must be told, they 
did not always open freely. 
The older a person grows the more he likes to dwell on 
the past. The young look to the future, and rightly; but 
memories of bygone days haunt the minds of all who have 
passed the meridian, like the refrain of a sweet melody that 
often rings so pleasantly in the ears of old and young alike. 
But even the young like to be taken to the days that passed 
before them, and to learn what “ was doing ” then; hence, in 
a chat about Roses at the beginning of my thirty-eighth Rose 
season, I have commenced at the commencement of the love 
that has never waned. There is something encouraging, 
fascinating, satisfying, in the culture of flowers, and the 
“ appetite grows with what it feeds upon ; ” hence I am now 
enjoying, with all the ardency of youth, the floral feast of the 
modern beauties of to-day; but I cannot forget that the 
varieties now nearly obsolete, such as Madame Laffay, Chene- 
dole, Paul Ricaut, Paul Perras, William Jesse, Brennus, and 
a host of others, were as much admired in their time as the 
most famed of the moderns are admired now. 
Just when we were priding ourselves on our great collec 
tion of Roses, which comprised several hundreds of plants, or 
trees, a new clergyman came upon the scene—a gentleman 
every inch of him, rich, generous, good, and withal a bachelor, 
so that, as he said, he could do as he liked, and he liked to 
grow Roses. He was a man of no half measures ; he either 
did a thing thoroughly or let it alone. His Rose beds were 
as good as the best soil and any quantity of it could make 
them, and the best Roses that could be supplied by the late 
Mr. Rivers, and subsequently Mr. Paul, were procured, and 
year after year the new ones were added. This clergyman 
dearly loved Roses, and felt it would be good for others to 
delight in them too. His gardens were open during the Rose 
season; his “ people ” were encouraged to collect Briars, were 
taught to “work” them, and supplied with buds for that 
purpose. In a few years gardens around this great Rose 
centre were full of Roses, and the hedgerows destitute of 
Briars. He is “ gone,” but the interest he excited in the 
Rose remains, for he left many disciples who cherish his 
memory and follow his practice of pruning and disbudding, 
and in rivalling each other in the production of fine blooms. 
This Rose rivalry that begins at home, seldom ends there. 
Some local flower show tempts, and a venture is made with a 
dozen blooms, hoisted perhaps in bottles, or flopped down in 
boxes of moss. It is singular that nearly all beginners in 
showing Roses in stands or boxes stage their flowers too low. 
No. 1919.— Yol. LXXIII., Old Series. 
