August  6,  1897. 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTlf'RE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
119 
Medea  and  Maeechal  Niel. 
I  HAVE  just  received  the  following  communication  from  one  of  the 
greatest  of  British  rosarians,  who  gives  me  permission  to  use  it  in  any 
way  I  please  : — 
"  I  do  not  know  whether  you  will  think  well  to  answer  the  commu¬ 
nication  which  appears  on  page  100  of  the  Journal  of  Horticulture,  but 
it  certainly  seems  to  me  that  the  correspondent  has  overstated  the  case 
as  regards  the  fitness  of  Mar6chal  Niel  for  outdoor  culture.  Such  an 
instance  as  ‘W.  K.  Eaillem  ’  quotes  must  be  quite  exceptional,  and  in 
ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  the  most  intelligent  pruning  can  do 
no  more  than  get  a  single  crop  of  flowers,  and  these  almost  invariably 
become  damaged  by  the  weather  before  attaining  perfection  unless 
growing  against  a  wall.  No  amount  of  writing  can  truthfully  represent 
Mai4chal  Niel  as  a  satisfactory  garden  Bose,  whereas  Medea  is  one  of 
the  best  outdoor  Boses  of  its  class  and  colour,  as  witness  the  splendid 
flowers  of  it  that  have  been  continually  shown  this  summer  by  Mr. 
Orpen  of  Colchester  and  others.” 
I  hope  to  find  other  rosarians  giving  their  opinion  upon  this  inter¬ 
esting  subject. — David  B.  Williamson. 
“The  Queen,” 
I  WISH  to  propose  a  toast,  my  friends,  if  a  lady  may.  Pull  of  days 
and  crowned  with  honour,  bless^  by  her  people  and  made  a  blessing  to 
them,  it  is  not  of  her  Gracious  Majesty  Victoria  of  whom  I  would  descant, 
but  of  a  frailer  sovereign  who  comes  to  us  in  radiant  beauty  each  summer, 
and  only  leaves  us  with  the  first  frosts  of  winter.  Bosa  regina,  of  her  I 
would  sing,  had  I  the  gift  of  the  poet.  Bosa  regina,  in  all  her  moods, 
in  all  her  protean  forms  of  loveliness.  She  condescends  to  expand  her 
beauties  alike  in  the  cottage  garden  as  in  the  wide  domains  of  a  ducal 
owner. 
Yon  may  think  you  know  the  Bose  intimately,  but  you  must  have 
spent  every  summer  of  a  long  life  in  her  company  to  say  jso  with  any 
degree  of  truth;  Of  course  a  nurseryman’s  knowledge  is  unique,  but 
personally  1  think  the  best  way  to  acquire  an  “at  homeness”  with  her 
majesty  is  to  be  the  owner  of  a  fa’r-sized  garden  where  the  Bose  is  made 
a  special  feature.  In  a  nursery  everything  is  too  neat  and  trim— is., 
rows  upon  rows  of  each  variety  with  no  break  or  tangle  of  other  flowers 
to  serve  as  a  background  or  contrast.  A  smooth-shaven  lawn  makes  the 
fairest  setting  and  walls  of  greenery.  Yew  for  choice.  What  makes  up 
the  charm  of  so  many  gardens  seen  in  the  Academy  ?  Masses  of  red, 
white,  and  blue,  varying  In  height  anl  toned  down  by  vistas  of  grey 
green. 
Very  few  people,  except  her  own  particular  worshippers,  see  Bosa 
regina  at  her  best.  She  is  not  a  flower  for  midday  exhibition — her 
beauty  is  too  rare,  too  delicate  for  a  full  blaze  of  sunshine.  It  is  said 
that  only  a  perfect  style  of  loveliness  can  hear  the  light  of  the  early 
morning  sun,  so  if  you  will  rise  with  me  betimes  I  will  show  yon  such  a 
picture  as  will  make  your  heart  sing  for  joy.  The  sun  has  just  left  his 
bed,  and  the  shadows  from  the  old  grey  house  fall  athwart  the  western 
lawns  ;  the  birds  are  awake — the  day  is  never  too  long  for  them — but 
little  else  is  stirring.  Dew  everywhere  ;  the  poor  flowers,  full  blown  by 
yesterday’s  sun,  have  drawn  in  and  stiffened  their  drooping  petals,  and 
for  an  hour  or  two  will  flaunt  it  again  with  their  young  fresh  sisters 
The  cool  air  and  the  bath  can  do  so  much  to  re-invigorate  the  failing, 
and  what  must  the  effect  be  on  the  newly  opening  flowers  ?  Strong 
shoots  uninjured  by  the  mild  winter  have  been  tied  in  one  to  another, 
and  form  a  succession  of  rosy  festoons,  the  wealth  of  Boses,  so  heavy  as 
to  fairly  cause  the  arches  to  reel  and  fall  forward.  What  shall  we  lo,  k 
at  first  ? 
The  hedges  of  F41icite  Perpetu4,  Ayrshire  Buga,  and  Crimson 
Bambler — F41icit4  with  her  clusters  each  a  perfect  posy,  the  central,  or 
mother  Bose,  of  the  purest  white,  and  compact  in  form,  with  her 
attendant  mass  of  pink  children  in  various  stages  of  development.  Her 
leaves  are  of  a  glossy  green,  and  her  sprays  of  this  year’s  growth  of 
fairy-like  elegance.  “  Buga  ”  is  a  modest  flower,  bends  her  pink-tinte  1 
face,  and  sheds  a  sweet  perfume  around.  Here  is  the  sturdy  Bambler — 
of  such  a  crimson  1  and  lifting  his  handsome  face  to  catch  every  beam 
of  light.  A  heavier  climber  you  see  in  Cheehunt  Hybrid,  big  flowers, 
big  leaves,  for  about  two  days  unsurpassed  in  colour — then,  alas  I  fadin  ' 
to  a  dingy  magenta.  Here  is  an  old  pink  Monthly,  and  by  her  side 
Mrs.  Bosanquet  with  fair  and  delicate  bicnims.  Here  is  a  flower, 
upright  as  a  dart,  firm  and  strong,  in  the  middle  of  a  setting  of  perfect 
green,  cup-like,  and  of  a  lovely  pink,  but,  alas  1  scentless — our  old 
favourite  the  Baroness,  and  in  close  proximity  what  might  be  her  sister 
in  white — Merveille  de  Lyon.  A  pretty  Tea,  often  the  best  in  a  box  of 
exhibition  Boses,  is  found  in  Catherine  Mermet,  and  near  her,  with 
creamy  pink,  is  Marie  Van  Houtte — a  soft  primrosy  yellow  at  her  zenith, 
she  blushes  rosy  red  as  she  gently  passes  away.  Here  is  some  size  and 
vigour  too,  with  perfect  shape.  Look  over  the  plants — not  a  single  failure. 
Mrs.  John  Laing  does  credit  to  her  raiser,  and  her  fair  pink  is  set  off  to 
perfection  by  the  richer  hues  of  her  German  neighbour,  Ulrich  Brunner. 
Go  to  that  tree  when  you  will,  there  will  always  be  a  flower,  the  best  of 
its  kind.  Where  is  there  such  a  rich  red  as  marks  the  Queen’s  second 
son— he  of  Edinburgh,  or  so  dark  a  crimson  as  Prince  Camille  de  Bohan 
— alas  I  a  hot  sun  fairly  brawns  and  burns  his  deep  petals  ;  be  is 
eminently  a  Bose  for  bad  weather. 
A  year  or  two  back,  in  all  shows,  Madame  Gabriel  Luizet  took  first 
place  as  a  pink.  She  seems  to  have  been  relegated  to  an  inferior  posi¬ 
tion,  but  grown  as  she  has  grown  this  summer  she  is  bad  to  beat.  Do 
you  want  anything  fragile  ?  Sweet  Madame  Cusin,  with  her  pinky  rose 
petals,  like  a  butterfly’s  wing,  or  the  fair  white  flowers  of  Alba  rosea. 
Ask  for  a  deeper  shade  of  salmon  pink,  and  I  give  yon  Madame  de 
Watteville,  a  full  blown  Bose  on  every  stem.  It  hardly  pays  to  grow  a 
Bose  that  only  flowers  to  perfection,  say,  once  in  nine  years ;  but  Etoile 
de  Lyon,  with  her  daffodil  yellow  and  red-green  foliage,  is  worth  grow- 
ing,  even  on  those  terms.  For  an  exhibitor  of  Teas,  there  is  Cleopatra, 
as  enchanting  as  her  Egyptian  namesake,  with  her  big  long-pointed  bud, 
and  Souvenir  d’Elise,  so  strong  in  petal  that  she  may  and  has  been 
carried  to  three  successive  shows  (hot  tents  and  the  toils  of  travel),  and 
taken  first  in  each  instance.  For  richness  of  fragrance,  beauty  of  shape, 
with  her  petals  turned  back,  nothing  has  been  found  yet  to  touch  old  La 
France,  and  she  too  is  constant  in  season  and  out.  Bunning  her  close 
for  scent  is  Boule  de  Neige,  a  curiously  shaped  Bose  of  the  purest  white, 
and  with  dark  foliage.  Among  the  other  pinks,  but  differing  as  so  many 
stars,  are  Marie  Finger,  Captain  Christy,  Bgeria,  and  Lady  Mary 
Fitzwilliam. 
Do  yon  know  the  warm  flesh  tint  of  a  young  baby’s  skin  ?  Look 
at  this  loose  petalled  Viscountess  Folkestone  and  see  the  close  resem¬ 
blance.  There  is  another  Bose,  equally  delicate  in  tint,  but  more  cup¬ 
shaped  and  closer  in  habit,  the  pretty  Cannes  la  Coquette,  and  Violette 
Bonyer  would  come  in  a  good  third.  Of  dark  Boses  their  name  is 
legion.  In  a  decently  managed  rosery  do  you  ever  see  a  really  bad 
Marie  Baumann  ?  I  never  do,  and  Charles  Lefebvre  is  ever  an  old 
favourite.  Fortune’s  Yellow,  with  her  masses  of  golden  bloom,  alas  1 
like  fortune,  is  often  fickle  ;  but  when  she  does  bestow  her  favours,  it  is 
with  a  lavish  hand.  I  wonder  if  Victor  Hugo  was  ever  so  sweet  and 
lovely  as  his  namesake,  and  a  W.  A.  Bichardson  in  the  flesh  would  need 
treatment  for  a  sharp  attack  of  jaundice. 
No  garden  is  complete  without  a  Sweetbriar  or  two,  and  Lord 
Penzance,  now  that  he  rests  from  his  legal  labours,  has  done  much  for 
their  improvement.  I  have  still  a  lurking  tenderness  for  the  sticky 
Moss  Bose  of  my  childhood.  Do  yon  know  its  sharp  pungent  odour  ? 
The  little  Scotch  yellows,  the  first  to  bloom  of  all  this  vast  family,  are 
perfect  in  their  way,  and  make  such  glorious  masses  of  colour  in  the 
garden  at  a  time  when  colour  is  so  wanting. 
I  cannot  catalogue  like  a  nurseryman,  nor  have  I  the  ready  and 
trained  pen  of  a  “  D.,  Deal,"  a  “  W.  B.  Baillem,”  or  a  witty  Dean  of 
Bochester  ;  but  I  do  love  my  sweet  flowers,  and  it  is  out  of  the  abundance 
of  the  heart  that  one  must  speak.  Never  have  they  been  so  lovely  or  so 
abundant  as  in  this  glorious  year  of  Jubilee,  and  it  is  but  a  fitting  tribute 
that  the  greatest  queen  that  ever  lived  should  have  her  path  strewn  with 
wreaths  and  garlands  in  lavish  profusion  woven  out  of  this  regal  flower. 
— The  Missus. 
Comments.— The  Norwich  Show. 
As  a  national  society,  the  committee  which  manages  its  affairs  is 
bound  to  make  arrangements  for  exhibitions  to  suit  its  members  in  all 
parts  of  the  country,  and  it  falls  to  its  lot  to  make  geographical 
distinctions  which  are  sometimes  called  in  question.  Why,  it  was  asked 
three  years  ago,  was  Gloucester  fixed  on  for  a  Southern  show,  and  only 
this  year  Norfolk  for  a  Northern  one  ?  Someone  (I  suppose  waggishly) 
said,  “Oh  I  of  course,  as  the  first  three  letters  of  Norfolk  evidently 
designate  something  northern.”  Bast  Anglia  had,  however,  for  a  long 
time  called  out  that  it  was  neglected  in  our  arrangements  ;  so  after  com¬ 
munication  with  the  Norfolk  and  Norwich  Horticultural  Association  it 
was  determined  that  the  Northern  show  for  the  present  year  should  be 
held  there  under  its  auspices,  which  has  for  many  years  been  aflSliated 
with  the  National,  and  is  evidently  well  officered  and  managed.  In  one 
respect  local  exhibitors  had  cause  for  complaint.  Their  own  show  is 
held  in  the  first  week  of  July,  and  to  put  it  off  for  a  fortnight  was,  of 
course,  a  great  tax  upon  them  and  their  Boses  ;  moreover,  from  many 
parts  of  England  Norwich  is  not  easy  of  access.  Of  course,  the  Southern 
amateurs  did  not  expect  to  be  present ;  the  show  by  its  date  was 
intended  for  northerners,  while  the  Bast  Anglian  contingent  was  in 
great  force. 
The  exhibition  was  held  in  the  delightful  grounds  of  Carrow  Priory, 
the  seat  of  J.  J.  Colman,  Esq.  It  was  an  extensive  one,  and  was  con¬ 
tained  in  five  tents,  but  the  one  with  which  we  have  to  do  was  a  large 
and  airy  one,  in  which  were  staged  all  the  exhibits  intended  for  com¬ 
petition  in  the  National  Bose  Society’s  schedule.  The  weather  of  the 
preceding  week  had  b^en  extremely  hot  and  trying  for  the  Boses  ;  this 
told,  naturally,  more  upon  the  H  P.’s,  especially  upon  the  dark  flowers, 
than  on  the  Teas  or  Noisettes,  although  there  were  some  fine  flowers  in 
all  classes  that  were  exhibited.  There  were,  of  course,  few  exhibitors 
from  the  South  of  the  Thames,  and  Essex  and  Herts  carried  off  the 
lion’s  share.  Neither  the  North  nor  the  northern  Midlands  took  a  very 
prominent  place,  and  it  was  curious  to  see  how  in  both  nurserymen  and 
amateurs  the  leading  prizes  went  to  one  exhibitor  in  each  division.  Thus 
in  the  nurserymen’s  class  the  old  veteran,  Mr.  B.  E.  Cant,  carried  off 
the  Jubilee  trophy,  with  all  the  principal  prizes  which  he  could  compete 
for,  and  I  think  we  may  fairly  say  that  to  his  son,  Mr.  Cecil  Cant,  is  due 
a  great  deal  of  the  honour.  He  evidently  inherits  the  taste  of  his 
father,  than  whom  no  one  understands  better  the  way  of  setting  up  a 
box  of  Boses. 
