346 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
April  16,  1896. 
Mr.  Frank  Cant  has  so  happily  designated  them,  as  they  represent  the 
softer  sex,  so  they  demand  more  gentle  handling. 
“  Use  the  woman  tenderly,  tenderly, 
Of  a  crooked  rib  she  was  made  slenderly ; 
Straight  and  strong  besom  did  not  make  her, 
And  if  you  try  to  bend  you’ll  break  her.” 
Teas  must  not  be  treated  quite  as  their  coarser  and  hardier  brethren. 
Then  again  the  whole  race  of  Briars,  Austrian,  Persian  and  Harrisoni, 
and  now  the  Lord  Penzance  Sweet  Briar  series,  these  all  require  dis¬ 
tinctive  treatment.  So  again  climbing  Roses  and  Roses  under  glass. 
Each  class  must  be  considered  and  dealt  with  as  distinct  if  real 
success  is  to  be  arrived  at.  Some  Roses  will  grow  anywhere,  others  will 
grow  nowhere,  except  under  the  most  very  favourable  circumstances, 
careful  culture,  and  study  of  characteristics  alone  will  obtain  full  answer 
to  the  poet’s  entreaty. 
“Queen  of  fragrance,  lovely  Rose, 
The  beauties  of  thy  leaves  disclose  ! 
The  winter’s  past,  the  tempests  fly, 
Soft  gales  breathe  gently  o’er  the  sky, 
Then  haste  thy  beauties  to  disclose, 
Queen  of  fragrance,  lovely  Rose.” 
Preparing  the  Ground. 
This  comes  naturally  as  a  first  consideration.  The  way  this  is  done 
will  depend  on  the  nature  of  the  soil,  according  as  this  is  light 
or  heavy,  or  whether  the  bed  is  intended  for  H.P.’s  or  Teas.  Under 
any  circumstances  I  should  recommend  an  initial  trenching  of  at  least 
two  spits  deep.  If  the  ground  be  stiff  drainage  will  have  also  to  be 
attended  to,  and  cinders  may  be  used  with  advantage  to  lighten  it ;  if  it 
be  gravel  or  shale  a  clean  clear  out  to  the  depth  of  3  feet  at  least  may 
be  desirable.  Dean  Hole  tells  a  story  of  a  cottager  who  swapped  the 
gravel  subsoil  of  his  garden  with  a  neighbouring  farmer  for  a  dried  up 
pond,  and  both  the  road  and  the  garden  turned  out  gainers  ;  it  is 
true  his  gravel  walks  had  to  be  made  of  cinders,  if  you  will  allow  the 
statement,  but  his  crops  in  a  couple  of  years  were  prodigious.  Mr. 
D’Ombrain  thus  describes  the  making  of  a  model  Rose  garden  at  Reigate, 
where  expense  was  no  object.  “  It  is  trenched  to  the  depth  of  3  feet. 
At  the  bottom  is  placed  a  layer  of  clay,  then  a  layer  of  loam,  then  a 
layer  of  manure,  and  so  on,  until  the  bed  is  finished.” 
Fresh  loam,  of  course,  is  the  best  soil  of  all,  but  Roses  are  hearty 
feeders  ;  with  Manettis  and  standard  Briars  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
manure  too  heavily,  so  long  as  the  manure  does  not  come  into  actual 
contact  with  the  roots.  1  remember  Mr.  Keynes  of  Salisbury,  years 
ago,  when  I  was  admiring  his  marvellous  maiden  blooms,  telling  me 
that  with  him  every  Briar  stock  planted  had  always  a  solid  foot  deep 
of  manure  placed  beneath  it,  and  certainly  I  never  saw  more 
magnificent  standards.  If  Roses  have  occupied  the  spot  before,  then 
I  advocate  the  entire  clearing  out  of  the  bed  and  fresh  soil  bringing 
in.  Roses  hate  to  follow  Roses.  After  a  certain  time,  too,  the  soil 
becomes  utterly  sick  of  them  ;  a  moderate  amount  of  change  is  good  for 
us  all.  It  is  very  much  the  case  of  that  Scottish  congregation,  which 
very  generously  made  up  a  purse  and  sent  their  minister  for  a  tour 
on  the  Continent.  Shortly  after  a  neighbour  came  across  one  of  the 
deacons.  “I  have  lately  met  your  minister  in  Switzerland.  He  did 
not  look  as  if  he  needed  a  change.”  “No,”  said  the  other,  “it  was 
na  him  ;  it  was  the  congregation  that  needed  it.”  If  the  plants  do 
not  require  it  the  ground  soon  will. 
When  I  was  growing  for  exhibition  I  used  to  abolish  my  Rose  beds 
about  every  seven  years,  and  let  them  undergo  a  complete  change  of 
crop  for  some  two  or  three  years.  Of  course,  when  not  exhibiting, 
they  can  be  left  some  years  longer.  I  am  told  that  Strawberries  make 
a  very  good  succession  crop.  The  late  Mr.  Bennett  also  tried  Turnips 
with  advantage.  These  suggest  again  the  famous  four  course  of  the 
farmer. 
A  long  time  ago,  about  1810,  in  those  famous  years  for  agriculture, 
when  a  man  could  take  a  load  of  Wheat  to  market  and  sell  it,  and  buy 
£100  worth  of  Consols  with  the  proceeds — rather  a  contrast  to  these 
days  with  Wheat  at  20s.  the  quarter,  and  Consols  up  at  110  ! — in  those 
palmy  days  of  tillage,  and  when  every  available  acre  was  under  the 
plough,  it  is  said  that  a  certain  archdeacon,  inspecting  a  churchyard 
which  had  lately  been  enlarged,  was  shocked  to  find  a  fine  crop  of 
Turnips  growing  in  it.  “Oh,  Mi.  Smith  1”  he  exclaimed,  “this  is  all 
wrong.”  “No,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Archdeacon,”  was  the  reply,  “it  is  all 
in  proper  course  ;  it  will  be  Barley  next  year?”  He  thought  it  was  his 
agricultural  skill  that  was  questioned. 
Situation. — In  respect  of  this  there  is  a  great  variety  of  tastes 
amongst  Roses.  Some  must  have  a  south  wall  and  a  southern  county, 
and  then  very  likely  may  take  offence  at  something.  Others, 
again,  poor  coarse  things  !  as  Dean  Hole  says,  have  “  no  more  pride  than 
a  Dahlia  after  a  sharp  frost  ” — Aimee  Yibert  and  Old  Glory  being  notable 
examples.  Then,  again,  how  not  to  grow  them,  had  also  to  be  alluded 
to.  Mr.  Mawley  wrote  about  this  very  strongly  in  1876  ;  and  I  am  not  sure 
that  even  now  matters  are  very  much  mended  : — “  Not  one  Rose  in  fifty  is 
grown  under  conditions  in  which  it  could  reasonably  be  expected  by 
anyone  who  understood  anything  at  all  about  the  matter,  to  yield  even 
tolerably  representative  blooms.  I  will  say  that  in  every  class  of  garden, 
without  exception,  Roses  are  frequently  to  be  seen  growing  in  one  or 
other  of  the  three  following  positions.  1,  In  the  centre  of  a  small  circle 
cut  out  of  the  lawn,  the  remaining  space  of  which  is  filled  up  with 
either  spring,  bedding,  or  climbing  plants ;  or,  2,  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd 
of  other  flowers  in  a  mixed  or  decorated  border  ;  or  3,  on  a  lawn  without 
any  turf  whatever  cut  away  from  around  them.  This  is  by  far  the  most 
fatal  position  of  all.  Now,  even  as  the  shark  is  the  most  voracious  and 
insatiable  of  fishes,  so  is  the  Rose  its  representative  amongst  flowers. 
How,  then,  can  such  a  beautiful  but  hungry  creature  be  expected  to 
retain  health  and  vigour  when  condemned  to  feed  for  ever  off  the  same 
small  plate  of  food  with  a  lot  of  other  hungry  little  creatures  ?  Everyone 
is  aware  that  the  queen  of  flowers  has  not  pretty  feet,  but  it  may  not  be 
generally  known  that  they  are  of  so  tender  and,  I  may  say,  gouty  con¬ 
stitution,  that  they  cannot  endure  the  pressure  of  even  the  lightest 
flower,  much  less  of  dainty  looking  but  far  heavier  turf.  To  my  mind 
this  dainty  grass  would  much  more  appropriately  cover  her  grave — aye, 
and  often  does  so  cover  it  1  This  deplorable  condition  of  the  kingdom  of 
Roses  is  one  which  I  think  all  true  and  loyal  subjects  of  the  Rose  ought 
to  do  their  utmost  to  rectify,  both  by  precept  and  example,  on  every 
possible  occasion  that  presents  itself.” 
(To  be  continued.) 
RULES  FOR  JUDGING— A  JOKER. 
So  the  new  illuminant  of  the  Journal  of  Horticulture ,  yclept  “  Old 
Provincial  Judge,”  when  he  told  us  he  knew  everything  that  he  found 
in  the  code  did  not  mean  what  be  said  on  page  257,  but  was  only 
poking  a  sort  of  bucolic  fun  at  the  no  doubt,  to  him,  certain  London 
dandies.  “  A.  D.”  evidently  did  not  so  regard  the  peculiar  disquisition, 
but  treated  it  seriously,  and  he  was  certainly  not  the  only  one  who 
failed  to  detect  the  motive  of  the  man  who,  it  would  seem,  was  over¬ 
weighted  with  the  seriousness  of  his  own  native  witticisms. 
When  the  serio-humoursome  old  provincial  writes  again,  it  might 
perhaps  be  well  for  him  to  take  a  lesson  from  one  who  in  his  day  was 
not  less  sprightly — the  late  Artemus  Ward,  and  make  it  clear  when  he 
is  not  serious  by  an  explanatory  heading,  “  This  is  a  goak.”  It  would 
save  trouble.  Still,  the  truth  will  sometimes  shine,  even  through  the 
heaviest  and  cloudiest  of  humour  ;  and  even  this  frolicsome  old  judge 
does  not  appear  able  to  obscure  the  fact  of  his  having  a  very  good 
opinion  of  himself. 
He  really  must  be  a  wonderful  old  specimen  after  all ;  and  if  the 
responsible  officials  of  shows  could  be  equally  impressed  that  his  own 
knowledge  and  ways  are  so  much  better  than  those  of  his  contemporaries, 
they  might  save  their  societies  something  by  letting  him  run  in  single 
harness,  as  linking  him  with  another,  of  necessarily  lesser  knowledge 
and  more  faulty  methods,  must  be  to  him  a  rather  serious  drag,  while 
time  must  be  lost  in  pointing  out  to  his  inferiors  the  errors  of  their 
ways. 
This  “  old  provincial  judge  ”  is,  however,  by  no  means  a  solitary 
specimen  of  his  kind.  He  is  only  one  of  a  large  family  after  all,  whose 
words  fall  trippingly  off  tongue  or  pen,  but  which,  as  in  this  case,  have 
either  no  meaning  or  convey  erroneous  impressions.  These  talented 
individuals  are  no  doubt  proud  of  their  skill  in  accomplishing  such  feats, 
as  well  as  of  their  escape  from  the  consequences  under  the  convenient 
veil  of  irony.  Their  policy  is  to  wait  while  others  work,  in  at  least 
trying  to  do  something  (for  nothing),  and  then  when  the  time  comes  for 
making  a  mark  the  opportunity  is  irresistible,  not  for  useful  criticism 
in  pointing  out  oversights  or  suggesting  amendments,  but  for  “  poking 
fun  ”  at  the  workers  for  their  foolish  pains. 
The  practice  is  not  without  certain  advantages.  For  one  thing  it  is 
easy — so  easy  that  scores  of  London  gamins  are  experts  in  the  art  by 
practice  be  it  noted  (as  even  experts  must  have  experience),  by  adroitly 
placing  the  thumb  in  contact  with  the  olfactory  portion  of  their 
physiognomy  and  gracefully  twirling  their  fingers  in  the  air.  These 
fun-poking  pranks  are  also  amusing — to  the  perpetrators,  and  as  the 
querky  old  judge  tells  us  that  he  is  in  happy  possession  of  risible 
faculties  and  laughs  when  he  is  reading,  it  is  fair  to  suppose  that  it  must 
be  something  of  a  treat  to  see  him  when  he  is  writing. 
Another  sight,  but  of  a  different  nature,  would  be  to  see  one  of  these 
smart  know-it-alls  (when  others  have  shown  the  way)  judging  all  alone 
and  unfettered,  say  the  Orchids  at  the  May  show  of  the  R.H.S.,  the 
premier  class  of  Chrysanthemums  at  the  N.C.S.,  the  trophy  class  of  Roses 
at  the  N.R.S.,  or  even  one  of  the  new  mixed  classes  at  Shrewsbury,  to 
which  something  like  an  unheard  of  condition  is  attached  that  the  points 
must  be  “exposed.”  If,  with  all  his  self-confidence  (on  paper),  this 
celebrated  provincial  should  be  invested  with  such  responsibility  he 
would,  perhaps,  not  find  it  much  of  a  laughing  matter  while  the  world 
was  waiting  for  his  verdict. 
Night  after  night  for  weeks  prior  to  that  working,  not  joking,  ordeal 
we  might  picture  him  pouring  over  the  “  code,”  learning  by  heart  the 
merits  and  defects  of  the  different  products,  while  the  old  lady  called  to 
him  in  vain  to  rest  from  his  labours.  It  would  never  do  for  an 
adjudicator  of  eminence  to  judge  by  open  book.  It  would  be  derogatory 
to  his  dignity,  apart  from  raising  a  suspicion  as  to  his  capacity  not  being 
quite  equal  to  his  own  estimation,  and  that  would  be  no  joke.  The 
“  code  ”  then,  with  all  its  faults,  which  our  particular  judge  has  done 
nothing  to  amend,  may  yet  be  useful,  as  he  cannot  tell  what  he  may  be 
called  upon  to  do. 
But  with  all  his  fau — no,  merits— it  is  well  that  we  should  have  such 
men  among  us,  our  complacently  quizzical,  if  a  little  bumptious,  serio¬ 
comic  old  adjudicators.  They  give  variety  to  life,  and  make  care  weigh 
less  heavily  in  this  world  of  work  to  most  of  us.  They  dance  to  our 
digging,  and  even  carry  their  frolicsomeness  into  the  press  and — enjoy 
it,  happy  in  their  rural  seclusion,  and  not  the  leBS  so  if  they  can  move 
to  something  like  madness,  yet  without  arousing  any  feelings  of  badness 
— One  of  the  Forty-six. 
