ROSES FOR THE WILD GARDEN, AND FOR HEDGEROWS, FENCES, AND GROUPS.
The wild Roses of the world, had we no other plants, would alone make
beautiful wild gardens. The unequalled grace of the Wild Rose is as
remarkable as the beauty of bloom for which the Rose is grown in
gardens. The culture is mostly of a kind which tends to conceal or
suppress the grace of shoot and foliage of the Rose. Therefore the wild
garden may do good work in bringing before the many who love gardens,
but have fewer chances of seeing the Roses in their native haunts,
the native grace of the well–loved Rose, which even in its obesity,
and trained into the form of a mop, still charms us. The Rev. H. N.
Ellacombe writes:—
I have here a very large and thick Box bush, in the centre of which
there has been for many years an Ayrshire Rose. The long branches
covered with flowers, and resting on the deep green cushion, have a very
beautiful effect. Other Roses may be used in the same way. The Musk Rose
of Shakespeare and Bacon would be particularly well suited for this, and
would climb up to a great height. Rosa scandens or sempervirens, Rosa
multiflora, and perhaps some others, might be grown in the same way;
and it would be worth while to experiment with other garden forms, such
as Aimée Vibert, purple Boursault, etc. If grown against a tree of thin
foliage, such as a Robinia, they would grow quicker and flower sooner;
but this is not necessary, for even if grown near a thick–foliaged
tree they will soon bring their branches to the outside for the light.
But besides climbing Roses, there is another way in which Roses may be
combined with trees to great advantage, viz. by planting some of the
taller–growing bushes in rough grassy places. These would grow from 6
feet to 10 feet high, and would flower well in such a position. For
such a purpose the old Dutch Apple Rose (Rosa villosa var. pomifera)
would be very suitable, and so would R. cinnamomea, R. fraxinifolia,
R. gallica, R. rubifolia, and the common monthly China. And if growers
would rear the perpetual and other Roses by autumnal cuttings instead of
by budding, they might have hundreds and thousands of fine Roses which
would do well planted in the woods and plantations.
Another correspondent, Mr. Greenwood Pim, writes referring to the
preceding note:—
I have two large exotic Hawthorns—round–headed standards, growing
close together, so that their edges touch, forming, as it were, two
gentle hills with a valley between, and sloping down to within about
6 ft. of the lawn. Of these one is Cratægus Crus–galli; the other C.
tanacetifolia. Behind, and partly through these, climbs a very old
Noisette Rose—all that now remains of an arched trellis—producing a vast
number of bunches of white flowers, six or eight together, and about
1½ in. or 2 in. across. The old gnarled stem of the Rose is scarcely
noticeable amongst those of the Thorns till it reaches the top of them,
whence it descends between the trees in a regular torrent of blossom,
in addition to occupying the topmost boughs of the Cockspur Thorn. The
general effect is almost that of a large patch of snow between two
bright green hills—a combination very common in the higher districts of
Switzerland. A smaller plant of the same Rose has recently been trained
up a large Arbor–vitæ which, from moving, has lost its lower branches
for some 4 ft. or 5 ft., and has its stem clothed with Ivy. It is now
festooned with snowy flowers hanging down from and against the dark
green of the Arbor–vitæ and Ivy, forming a charming contrast. It seems a
great pity that we do not oftener thus wed one tree to another—a stout
and strong to a slender and clinging one, as Virgil in the “Georgics”
talks of wedding the Vine to the Elm, as is, I believe, done to this day
in Italy.
[Illustration: Wild Rose growing on a Pollard Ash in Orchardleigh Park,
Somerset.]
“We have,” says a correspondent, “a pretty extensive collection of
Roses, but one of the most attractive specimens on the place is an old
double white Ayrshire Rose, growing in a group of common Laurel in
the shrubberies. We cannot tell how old the plant may be, but it has
probably been in its present situation for thirty years, struggling the
best way it could to keep its place among the tall–growing Laurels,
sometimes sending out a shoot of white flowers on this side and
sometimes on that side of the clump of bushes, and sometimes scrambling
up to the tops of the tallest limbs and draping them with its blossoms
throughout June and July. Nearly three years ago we had the Laurels
headed down to within six feet of the ground, leaving the straggling
limbs of the Rose which were found amongst them, and since then it
has grown and thriven amazingly, and now fairly threatens to gain the
mastery. We had the curiosity to measure the plant the other day, and
found it rather over seventy feet in circumference. Within this space
the plant forms an irregular undulating mound, nearly in all parts so
densely covered with Roses that not so much as a hand’s breadth is left
vacant anywhere, and the Laurel branches are quite hidden, and in fact
are now dying, smothered by the Rose. A finer example of luxuriant
development we never saw. The plant has been a perfect sheet of bloom
for a month or more, and there are thousands of buds yet to expand,
and hundreds of bunches of buds have been cut just at the opening
stage—when they are neater and whiter than a Gardenia—to send away.
The tree has never received the least attention or assistance with the
exception of the removal of the Laurel tops before mentioned, to let
the light into it. It is growing in a tolerably deep and strong dry
loam, and this, together with head room, seems to be all it requires.
We record this example simply to show of what the Rose is capable
without much cultural assistance. No doubt, in order to produce fine
individual blooms certain restricted culture is necessary; but almost
any variety of Rose will make a good–sized natural bush of itself, and
as for the climbing or pillar Roses, the less they are touched the
better. Of course we are not alluding to the Rosery proper, but of
Roses in their more natural aspect, as when planted to hide fences,
cover rockeries, or as striking objects on lawns. Except against walls,
and in similar situations, there is no occasion to prune climbing
Roses. Left to themselves, they make by far the grandest display, and
to insure this it is only necessary to provide them with a good, deep,
strong soil at the beginning, and to let them have a fair amount of
light on all sides. Whether planting be carried out with the object
above described, or for the purpose of covering naked tree stumps or
limbs, or for draping any unsightly object whatever, liberal treatment
in the first instance is the main thing. A good soil makes all the
difference in time and in the permanent vigour of the tree, and were we
desirous of having a great Rose tree (whether it be a common Ayrshire
or a Gloire de Dijon, that we expected to produce thousands of blooms
in a few years), we should, if the soil were not naturally strong
and deep, provide a well–drained pit and fill it with two or three
good cartloads of sound loam and manure; thus treated, the result is
certain, provided an unrestricted growth be permitted.”
[Illustration: White Climbing Rose scrambling over old Catalpa Tree.]
Roses on grass are a pleasant feature of the wild garden. No matter
what the habit of the rose, provided it be free and hardy, and growing
on its own roots, planting on the grass will suit it well. So treated,
the more vigorous climbers would form thickets of flowers, and graceful
vigorous shoots. They will do on level grass, and be still more
picturesque on banks or slopes.
The following description, by Mr. E. Andre, of Roses in the Riviera is
suggestive of what we may obtain in our own climate later, by using the
free kinds on their own roots, or on stocks equally hardy and not less
vigorous, as in the case of the Banksian Roses mentioned below:—
On my last excursion from Marseilles to Genoa, I was greatly struck, as
any one seeing them for the first time would be, with the magnificence
of the Roses all along the Mediterranean shores. The Rose hedges,
and the espalier Roses, especially, offer an indescribably gorgeous
sight. Under the genial influence of the warm sun of Provence, from
the Corniche to the extremity of the Riviera di Ponente, that is as
far as the Gulf of Genoa, and protected to the north by the mountains,
which gradually slope down to the sea–coast, Roses attain the size of
Pæonies, and develop a depth and brilliancy of colour and fragrance of
unusual intensity. But this is in part due to another cause, or rather
two other causes, which lead to the same result, the main point being
the choice of suitable subjects for stocks to graft upon. These stocks
are, Rosa Banksiæ and Rosa indica major. The Banksian Rose presents
three varieties, namely, White Banksian, producing a profusion of small
white flowers, scarcely so large as those of the double–flowered Cherry,
and of a most delicious fragrance; Yellow Banksian, with still larger
clusters of small nankeen–yellow scentless flowers; Chinese Thorny
Banksian, flowers less numerous and about three times as large as in
the two preceding, and of the most grateful odour. These three forms
attain an unsurpassable vigour in this region. In two years one plant
will cover an immense wall, the gable of a house, or climb to the top
of a tall tree, from which its branches hang like flowery cascades,
embalming the air around with a rich perfume during the months of April
and May. Now, if these be taken for stocks upon which to bud some of the
choicer Teas, Noisettes, and Bourbons, the growth of the latter will
be prodigious. The stock should be two years old, having well ripened,
though still smooth, wood. In this way such varieties as Gloire de
Dijon, Maréchal Niel, Lamarque, Safrano, Chromatella, Aimée Vibert, le
Pactole, and all the Teas, attain such dimensions as to be no longer
recognisable.
Rosa indica major is almost naturalised throughout the whole of this
region. It possesses the additional claim to favour of flowering nearly
all the winter, forming beautiful hedges of dark green shining foliage,
from which thousands of clusters of lovely flowers rise, of a tender
delicate transparent pink, or almost pure white, with a brighter tinge
in the centre and at the tips of the petals. This Rose is an evergreen,
and makes an excellent stock for grafting or budding. It is either
planted in nursery beds, where it quickly throws up a stem suitable
for standards in the same way as we employ the Dog Rose, or in hedges,
and left to its naturally luxuriant growth to produce its own charming
flowers in rich profusion, or rows of cuttings are put in where it
is intended to leave them, and subsequently budded with some of the
varieties of the diverse tribes we have named.
[Illustration: Climbing Rose isolated on grass.]