Parsons on the Rose / A Treatise on the Propagation, Culture and History of the Rose

by Samuel Browne Parsons

It is somewhat singular that, although the Rose was in these instances employed as the emblem of virtue and innocence, it has been considered, at other times and places, as a sign of disgrace and dishonor.

The synod held at Nismes, about the year 1284, ordered the Jews to wear on their breast a rose, to distinguish them from Christians, in order that they might not receive the same attentions. At one time, in certain German provinces, a crown of red roses was the punishment of immorality.

It appears that, in the Middle Ages, roses were much more abundantly cultivated in certain provinces than they have been since; for the following passage is found in Marchangy’s History of France in the 14th century: “For the ornament of certain festivals, they cultivate, in the vicinity of Rouen, fields of flowers of several rods: and the annual sale of bouquets and wreaths of roses is valued at 50,000 francs. The business of maker of wreaths, and that of rose merchant, is in France very common and very profitable. The above sum will not seem surprising, when we think of the enormous consumption of rose-water at that time. In all family parties, companies, and associations, many bouquets were presented; at table, during festivals, they crowned themselves with flowers, and scattered them on the table-cloth and the floor.”

The Marquis de Chesnel, in his History of the Rose, mentions that, among the old customs of Auvergne, Anjou, Tours, Lodunois, and Maine, there was one in the noble families, that a father who had sons, frequently gave to his daughters, on their marriage, only a wreath of roses. In Normandy, also, the daughters received, for their legitimate portion, a hat adorned with the same flowers. Among the ancient seigneurial rights in France, in the 14th century, was one by which each tenant was obliged to furnish a bushel of roses for the manufacture of rose-water for the lord of the soil. Madame de Genlis mentions, however, that about the same period, every one was not allowed to cultivate these flowers; but permission to do so was granted to privileged persons. Whether it was ever a royal monopoly she does not state; but it would certainly be no more singular than the monopoly of the sale of butter by the King of Naples.

We have already mentioned the wars of the White and Red Rose, which during so long a time deluged England with blood. There is also an instance in French history, where this flower, associated as it is with innocence and pleasant thoughts, served, under the reign of Charles VI., as the rallying sign of the faction of Burgundy against that of Armagnac. The Parisians, urged by the agents of the Duke of Burgundy, established the order of St. André for their partisans, in order to manage them more easily; and the church of St. Eustache was chosen as their rendezvous. Each church member wore a crown of red roses, of which more than seven hundred were made in the space of twelve hours, and the flowers were sufficiently abundant to perfume the whole church.

According to an ancient custom, the dukes and peers of France were formerly obliged to present roses to the Parliament of Paris, at certain periods of its session. The peer who was chosen to do the honors of this ceremony caused all the chambers of Parliament to be scattered with roses, flowers, and fragrant herbs; and entertained at a splendid breakfast the presidents, councilors, and even the notaries and door-keepers of the court. He afterwards went into each chamber, accompanied by a page with a large silver basin, which contained as many bouquets of roses and other flowers as there were public officers, with an equal number of crowns composed of the same flowers. The Parliament also had its cultivator of roses, called the Rosièr de la Cour, from whom the peers could obtain the roses for their presents.

Under the reign of Francis I., in 1541, there was a dispute between the Duc de Montpensier and the Duc de Nevers respecting the presentage of the roses to Parliament. It was decided that the Duc de Montpensier, from his rank as prince of the blood, should be entitled to the first presentage. Among the princes of the royal family who submitted to this ceremony at later periods, are numbered the dukes of Vendome, Beaumont, Angouleme, and several other distinguished names. Henry IV., while only King of Navarre, proved to the procureur-general that neither he nor his predecessors had ever failed to perform that duty.

About the year 1631, there was published a very curious book on the Rose, by a German named Rosenberg. About 250 octavo pages are devoted entirely to the praise of the curative properties of the Rose in almost every known disease, making, in fact, this flower a universal panacea for the many ills to which flesh is heir. The author also claims for it supernatural qualities, particularly for driving away evil spirits. The work closes by asserting, as a positive fact, supported by several authorities which he quotes, the remarkable regeneration or resurrection of the Rose. He gives also the process of this reproduction, which is scarcely worth inserting here, being, like the story of the Phœnix, a fable engendered by superstition upon ignorance. It is somewhat surprising that this fable should have been very gravely reproduced, in a French work on the Rose, published in 1800. The author states that, “notwithstanding the many marvelous things which we already know respecting the improving, forcing, changing, and multiplying of roses, we have yet to describe the most surprising of all—that of its regeneration; or, in other words, the manner of reproducing that flower from its own ashes. This is called the imperial secret, because the Emperor Ferdinand III. purchased it of a foreign chemist, at a very high price.” The conclusion is a rather amusing instance of Munchausenism in the 19th century. “Finally, all this material being placed in a glass vessel, with a certain quantity of pure dew, forms a blue powder, from which, when heat is applied, there springs a stem, leaves, and flowers, and a whole and perfect plant is formed from its own ashes.”

It is difficult to credit the fact that, in any part of this enlightened age, an author could be found who would gravely and in sincerity advance such opinions and state such facts as the above; and it is but an additional proof, if such were wanting, that nothing can be advanced too monstrous or too incredible to be entirely without believers.