UG 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER, 
August  16,  1900. 
Outside  the  Arena. 
Foe  the  last  few  weeks  the  queen  of  flowers  has  held  undisputed 
sway.  The  Journal  dedicated  a  special  number  to  her  honour.  Eose 
champions  entered  the  lists  at  the  Crystal  Palace  in  friendly  contest, 
none  the  less  keen  on  account  of  its  friendliness,  and  at  various  centres 
in  the  country  the  annual  war  of  the  Roses  has  been  pursued  with 
its  accustomed  vigour.  But  the  campaign  is  over,  boxes  and  stands 
must  be  put  aside  for  another  year,  and  warrior.s  of  the  Rose  war 
will  have  ample  time  to  ruminate  over  the  disappointments  and 
successes,  of  which  most  exhibitors  get  their  share.  It  has  not  been 
an  ideal  season  from  an  exhibitor’s  point  of  view,  and  better  National 
shows  have  been  held,  but  we  have  had  to  take  it  as  it  was,  and  in 
spite  of  some  unfavourable  climatic  conditions,  flowers  as  near  perfec¬ 
tion  as  we  can  hope  to  get  them  have  been  seen. 
The  Fascination  of  the  Rose. 
In  this  respect  I  think  the  Rose  has  a  mystic  fascination  which 
few  other  flowers  possess.  Its  possibilities  are  great,  and  its  surprises 
numerous.  You  may  grow  a  Chrysanthemum,  for  instance,  and 
know  that  all  depends  on  culture,  and  unless  a  certain  line  of  treatment 
is  followed  you  cannot  hope  to  obtain  any  results  above  the  common¬ 
place.  But  the  Rcse  is  not  bound  down  by  any  such  laws.  It  has  a 
way  of  its  own  of  producing  perfect  blossoms  in  the  most  unlocked 
for  places,  and  Roses  good  enough  to  win  a  medal  may  often  be 
seen  in  the  miniature  collections  of  amateurs  who  never  have  the 
slightest  pretensions  to  appear  as  exhibitoi  8.  This  brings  me  to  the 
gist  of  my  remarks.  I  have  no  intention  of  writing  a  revievr'of  the 
Rose  season,  abler  pecs  than  mine  will  do  that,  but  I  would  like  to 
call  attention  to  the  vast  number  of  Rose  growers  and  Rose  lovers  who 
never  exhibited  a  flower  in  their  lives,  and  so  far  as  the  show  board 
is  concerned  they  are  distinctly  outside  the  arena. 
The  Planets  and  the  Stars. 
Exhibiting  undoubtedly  brings  fame  to  the  rosarian,  and  every 
year  when  the  report  of  the  N.R.S.  Show  appears  in  these  columns 
well-known  names  come  belore  us,  and  we  feel  a  sort  of  familiarity 
with  the  amateurs  and  trade  growers  whose  names  are  household 
words  in  the  world  of  Roses.  These  are  the  planets  as  it  were,  and 
round  them  the  stars  are  studded  in  the  persons  of  growers  of  all 
sorts,  some  with  hundreds  of  plants,  others  with  only  half  a  dozen. 
Eosarians  they  are,  though  the  world  knows  them  not;  they  aspire  to 
no  fame  in  the  show  arena,  but  are  content  to  plod  on,  growing  Roses 
for  the  sake  of  the  flower  alone,  and  being  repaid  by  the  pleasure 
derived  from  the  occupation.  This  is  the  sort  of  hold  that  the  queen 
of  fldwers  has  on  a  great  community,  and  to  fully  realise  it  one  has 
only  to  leave  the  highways  and  linger  in  the  byewaysof  Rose  gardens, 
where  the  flowers  are  grown  without  a  thought  to  prizes  or  awards. 
A  Rosarian  In  Corduroy. 
I  could  point  to  scores  of  typical  cases,  but  for  the  present  one 
will  suffice.  It  was  the  home  of  a  labourer  which  I  had  occasion  to 
visit  recently,  and  the  old  rambling  cottage  standing  back  from  ti  e 
road  seemed  to  be  nestling  in  a  bower  of  Roses.  A  fine  old  Mar^chal 
Niel  rambled  round  the  window,  a  Gloire  de  Dijon  wandered  over  the 
porch,  and  on  the  end  wall  was  a  William  Alien  Richardson  covered 
with  bloom.  Could  any  Rose  expert  get  anything  better  ?  1 
wondered,  and  just  then,  in  tbe  pink  of  condition,  there  w^ete  rnanv 
flowers  up  to  medal  form.  And  the  rosarian — what  of  him  ?  Well, 
he  appeared  shortly  afterwards — an  individual  in  corduroy’  trousers  and 
shirt  sleeves,  fresh  from  his  -work  on  the  farm  close  by.  The  mention 
of  Roses  broke  down  all  reserve,  and  there  was  no  need  for  me  to  talk. 
Along  either  side  of  the  garden  path  was  a  row  of  standards  repre¬ 
senting  many  first-class  varieties.  Each  Brier  had  been  dug  from  the 
hedgerow  and  budded  with  his  own  hands.  And  the  varieties? 
Well,  the  man  confessed  that  he  had  been  lucky  there,  for  the  parson 
was  a  Eose  grower,  and  bad  supplied  him  with  buds  of  his  best  soits. 
On  the  far  side  of  the  garden,  sheltered  by  the  protection  of  the 
dividing  hedge,  was  a  row  of  standards  for  budding.  The  man  eyed 
them  critically,  and  thought  they  would  soon  be  ready,  and  the 
parson  had  promised  him  a  few  buds  of  sorts  he  did  not  possess. 
When  I  asked  him  why  he  grew  so  many  Roses  he  did  not  seem  to 
know.  He  supposed  it  was  because  he  was  fond  of  the  flower,  and  he 
liked  to  think  that  every  plarit  he  had  was  of  his  own  raising.  He 
had  never  been  to  a  Eose  show  in  his  life,  one  reason  being  that  they’ 
always  came  at  his  busy  time,  and  all  that  he  had  ever  done  in  the 
way  of  exhibiting  was  at  the  village  flower  show.  Distinctly  outside 
the  arena  is  this  man,  but  a  rosarian  nevertheless,  though  his  lame  ia- 
purely  local,  and  all  that  the  world  sees  of  his  work  among  his- 
favourite  flowers  is  by  the  glimpse  taken  over  the  garden  hedge. 
Budding  by  Cottagers. 
It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  many  Rose  budders  there  are  in 
the  country,  and  the  work  seems  to  hold  out  a  fascination  for  cottage 
growers.  I  could  not  say  with  any  certainty  how  many  cottage 
gardens  I  have  been  in  where  the  pathways  have  been  bordered  with 
standard  Roses,  worked  by  the  occupier  of  the  unpretentious  establish¬ 
ment.  I  have  watched  heavy-booted  labourers  striding  home  with 
bundles  of  Briers  on  their  shoulders,  obtained  from  the  hedgerows,  and 
to  be  transplanted  to  the  garden  ready  for  budding,  and  without  ever 
having  read  a  line  on  the  subject  or  receiving  a  lesson  beyond  wbat 
they  picked  up  by  watching  others.  Many  of  these  amateur  Eose 
budders  are  highly  successful.  I  think  the  finest  standard  Gloire  de 
Dijon  Rose  I  have  ever  seen  stands  in  front  of  a  cottage  window.  Ifc 
was  budded  some  years  ago  by  the  present  owner,  and  has  done  so 
well  that  when  in  full  bloom  it  is  an  object  of  admiration  for  all  who 
see  it. 
The  Roses  of  our  Forbears. 
So  much  for  the  florists’  Rose,  as  it  is  treated  at  the  hands  of 
obscure  growers,  but  in  the  wayside  gardens  you  also  see  the  Roses  of 
a  past  decade,  growing  and  blooming  in  profusion,  unknown  by  any’ 
distinctive  name,  but  just  Roses,  bushes  that  the  grandmothers  picked 
bouquets  from  in  their  girlhood,  and  to  all  appearances  like  Tennyson’s 
brook,  destined  “  to  go  on  for  ever.”  There  is  the  old  York  and' 
Lancaster,  which  never  fails  to  bloom,  the  big  red  Cabbage  Ro.se,  the- 
white,  which  is  not  much  when  opened,  but  delightful  in  the  bud,  the 
Moss  Rose  of  ancient  type,  and  the  Sweetbrier,  which  scents  the 
garden  after  a  shower  of  rain.  What  have  they  to  do  with  shows, 
these  old  world  flowers  ?  Nothing  ;  they  are  outside  the  arena  entirely, 
but  they  bloomed  and  flourished  long  before  many  of  the  gems  of  the 
H.P.  and  Tea  sections  existed  at  all,  and  their  fame,  if  ever  they 
possessed  any,  belongs  to  a  past  decade  before  Rose  shows  were  thought: 
of,  and  when  the  creations  of  the  hybridist  were  unknown. 
Non-exhibiting  Worshippers  of  the  Rose. 
A  Crystal  Palace  show  is  a  fine  illustration  of  the  Rose  grower’s: 
skill  and  the  raiser’s  art.  It  is  the  meeting  place  of  enthusiasts  of 
the  first  order,  the  battle  ground  of  strivers  after  cups  and  honours,  and' 
no  one  after  visiting  it  would  question  the  popularity  of  the  queenly 
Rose  ;  but  as  I  have  endeavoured  to  point  out,  there  is  a  power  of 
rosarians  outside  the  show  arena,  comprised  of  rich  and  poor,  who, 
though  they  never  compete  for  a  prize,  give  place  to  none  in  their 
affection  for  the  Rose ;  and  supposing  that  competition  ceased  to  exist, 
and  exhibitions  became  a  thing  of  the  past,  there  is  an  army  of  Rose 
gro Avers  now  outside  the  arena  numerous  and  enthusiastic  enough  to 
uphold  the  popularity  of  the  queen  of  flowers. — G.  H.  H. 
- ■  - - 
Ilore  Parsley. 
Hoav  often  this  request  from  the  kitchen  department  strikes  a  sort 
of  terror  into  the  heait  of  the  gardener  when,  as  it  often  happens  from- 
a  variety  of  causes,  in  the  winter  season  particularly,  his  stock  of 
Parsley  is  low  and  weak.  Then,  curiously  enough,  the  order  will  come 
not  seldom  more  imperiously,  more  insistently,  and  the  poor  gardener 
is  at  his  wit’s  end  to  keep  up  the  daily  supply.  He  dare  not  let  it  be 
known  to  the  culinary  department  that  his  stock  is  low,  because,  such 
is  the  contrariness  of  domestic  affairs,  that,  as  every  gardener  knows, - 
once  it  is  found  out  that  he  is  running  short  of  any  one  crop,  even 
though  he  may  have  had  abundance  previously  aud  they  have  tired  of 
it,  so  sure  will  the  demand  for  that  particular  vegetable  become  more 
and  more  urgent  until  the  man  is  well  nigh  driven  to  distraction. 
It  would  be  amusing  it  it  was  not  so  irritating,  because  of  the 
bold  front  the  gardener  has  to  put  on  occasionally  to  throw  his  masters 
off  the  scent,  and  declare  that — “Oh  yes,  there’s  plenty  of  that!”' 
He  has  to  “assume  a  virtue  if  he  has  it  not,”  and  so  get  out  of  the 
difficulty  by  a  little  innocent  finesse.  Of  course,  every  thoughtful 
and  onward-looking  gardener  adopts  all  sorts  of  plans  to  circumvent 
the  wiles  of  the  culinary  chiefs,  and  to  have  something  of  everything 
coming  on  at  its  season,  and  according  to  demand  all  the  year  round 
and  to  the  credit  of  our  profession,  so  skilfully  does  the  gardener  adapt 
himself  to  his  surroundings  that  he  very  seldom  fails  in  producing  in 
his  department  all  that  is  required  of  him.  S  ill,  “  the  best  laid 
schemes  of  mice  and  men  a(t  gang  agley,”  and  that  leads  me  to  say  that 
with  me  one  of  the  ways  I  have  adopted  to  secure  a  good  supply  ofi 
