CHAPTER XXXIX
THE WORTHY USE OF ROSES
For a full consideration of the Rose as a garden flower, one must look to such a work as "Roses for English Gardens," but as the Rose is a flowering shrub it cannot be omitted from the present volume.
In these days of horticultural prosperity and rapid progress, when there would appear to be one or more specialists devoting themselves to every worthy flower, we need scarcely say that the Rose has not been forgotten. Indeed, within the memory of many who have watched its culture for the last forty years, the rapid advance is nothing less than astonishing. Our own veteran growers and some of the foreign firms seem to have vied with each other in producing new forms in the Hybrid Perpetuals and in the Teas, but it has been almost within the last decade that growers have not only deepened the interest in the cultivation of the Rose, but have immensely widened it by striking out in new directions.
It is now many years since the late Henry Bennett raised such lovely hybrids as Grace Darling and Mrs. John Laing, but the parents of these were still among the well-known H.P.'s and Teas and Chinas. But of late years hybridists have taken in hand some of the handsomer of the species, and by working them with well-established favourites have produced whole new ranges of fine Roses. Of these the most prominent have been products of R. multiflora, rugosa, rubiginosa, and wichuraiana. The striking success of many of these later hybrids is encouraging in the highest degree, and the field for future work is so immense that the imagination can hardly grasp the extent of the prospect that these earlier successes seem to open out.
There are so many ways in which Roses may be beautiful. Even in the varied form and habit possessed by the types some special kind of beauty is shown and some special garden utility is foreshadowed. And then we think of the future possibilities of the Rose garden! Already—we say it with deliberation and a feeling of honest conviction—the Rose garden has never been developed to anything like its utmost possible beauty. The material already to hand even twenty years ago has never been worthily used.
The Rose garden to be beautiful must be designed and planted and tended, not with money and labour and cultural skill only, but with brains and with love, and with all those best qualities of critical appreciation—the specially-cultured knowledge of what is beautiful, and why it is beautiful—besides the indispensable ability of the practical cultivator.
There are in some places acres of Rose gardens, many of them only costly expositions of how a Rose garden had best not be made. The beautiful Rose garden, that shall be the living presentment of the poet's dream, and shall satisfy the artist's eye, and rejoice the gardener's heart, and give the restful happiness and kindle the reverent wonderment of delight, in such ways as should be the fulfilment of its best purpose, has yet to be made.
It matters not whether it is in the quite free garden where Roses shall be in natural groups and great flowery masses and arching fountains, and where those of rambling growth on its outskirts shall clamber into half-distant surrounding trees and bushes, or whether it is in the garden of ordered formality that befits a palatial building; there are the Roses for all these places, and for all these and many other uses. Indeed, for reducing the hard lines of the most formal gardens and for showing them at their best, for such enjoyment as they may give by the humanising of their rigid lines and the softening of their original intention as a display of pomp and state and the least sympathetic kind of greatness, the beneficent quality of age and accompanying over-growth may be best shown by the wreathing and clambering cluster Roses, whose graceful growth and tender bloom are displayed all the better for their association with the hard lines and rough textures of masonry surfaces.