Guide to subtle charms of well-bred roses

Press, 28 November 1980, Page 10

Guide to subtle charms of well-bred roses

GARDENER'S DIARY

Derrick Rooney

To get on my short list a rose must have something extra — not just flower power Or lusty good health, but a touch of individuality. I haven’t found this in many modern roses, because on the whole their colours are too garish to fit restfully in the garden scene; some of the most popular, such as the detestable “Whisky,” are downright vulgar. So I mostly fill the odd corners of my garden with the more subtle charms of the roses of the nineteenth century. But I do grow some modern roses, and I particularly like two that are just coming into peak flowering: Harkness’s “Yesterdays” and McCredy’s little “Ko’s Yellow.”

The latter is more peach than yellow, and so far has grown scarcely more than knee high, though some enormously stronglooking shoots are now rising from the base. The foliage is neat and the perfectly shaped yolkyellow buds open to tiny, peach-flushed pompons; I grow them among the gooseberries to break the monotony.

“Yesterdays” came out

in the early 19705, and is a shrub rose. It grows only waist high and carries masses of flowers throughout summer. These are small but carried well above the foliage in dainty trusses. They open mauve and “fade” to pink-purple tones.

Both the behaviour and parentage of “Yesterdays” are interesting. When first flowering it looks not unlike a much reduced version of the multiflora rambler, “Veilchenblau,” but in fact it is more China than anything, and as far as 1 know has not a drop of rambler in it. “Yesterdays” has dense, twiggy growth and delicacy of flowers, inherited from its seed parent, "Ballerina”. and it flowers recurrently throughout summer, thanks to the China blood introduced via its grandparent on the other side .“Phyllis Bide.”

“Ballerina” itself is a very pretty little rose, and “Phyllis Bide” is well worth growing, too, if it can be obtained. When I can get my hands on a plant I shall put the three in a group, because I doubt if any trio of roses, ancient or modern, could be as charming.

“Ballerina” has single flowers. They are usually described as “apple-blos-som pink,” but in my garden, where the bushes are growing on their own roots, are nearer mauve than pink. A white eye and boss of yellow stamens add distinction to each flower. The bush dates from about the midrl93os, and is thus a decade younger than “Phyllis Bide,” which was bred by the French firm, S. Bide and Sons, and released by them in 1923.

The quilled, double flowers are described in the British Royal National Rose Society’s handbook as "carmine pink shaded yellow,” but plants that I saw in full floyer in a Kaiap’oi garden recently were • opening . creamy white and fading to pink. On its own roots this rose makes a big, arching bush, but budded plants are best grown on a wall or pillar. “Yesterdays” is only slightly fragrant; in this respect it takes after Mum, which is sparingly endowed with scent, though classified as a hybrid musk. "Phyllis Bide” is listed by the RNRS as a "hybrid Wichuriana,’-’ and has the characteristic rich, fruity scent of this class; but there is plenty of China in the background, too, introduced via the parent,

“Perle d’Or,” a tea-poly-antha dating from 1883. Actually, the Wichuriana classification is a bit of a mystery to me, because the other parent of “Phyllis Bide” is the great old Noisette rambler, “Gloire de Dijon,” dating from about 1850. The Wichurianas did not come along until later, starting with “Dorothy Perkins” about the turn of the -century. No doubt there is an explanation.

Two other modern roses with charismatic appeal are “Clair Matin” and “Constance Spry.” Both date from the early 19605; the former is recurrent, but “Constance Spry” flowers once only, though oyer a long period. Both have pink flowers. Budded plants of “Clair Matin” are usually treated as climbers, but plants on their own roots, as mine is, will make loose, open bushes. They have better flowers, too. The colour is inclined towards the mauve side of the spectrum, whereas "Constance Spry” is a rosy pink.

Perhaps I should not lump them together like this, because while both are charmers, they are very different, and I

would never plant them together. The flowers of “Clair Matin" are semidouble, and they open widely like saucers. Those of “Constance Spry” are fully double, and cup shaped; the outer petals curve inwards at the rim, so that the flower appears to have been stuffed full of petals then neatly sliced off across the top. Reference books and most catalogues describe “Constance Spry” as a shrub rose, but is is really a pillar rose, and must have something to climb on. A length of sheep netting attached to a couple of poles is ideal. My plant of “Constance Spry” shares its netting with a group of old roses — “Belle de Crecy,” “Charles de Mills,” “York and Lancaster,” and the incompa-

rable white "Madame Hardy” (another “shrub” rose that immediately become more sophisticated and. floriferous when given something to clitnb on). All flower once only, but in succession over a long period, starting with "York and Lancaster” and ending with “Madame Hardy.” All are lax growers. Alongside them is a modern shrub rose that has colour to contribute in each of the 12 months, and is well able to stand up on its own. This: is “Radway. Sunrise,which makes a big, stout bush, 2m high, but can be squeezed •' into' quite a narrow border because its habit is strongly upright; there is hardly any sideways spread. • The leaves are glossy, healthy, and semi-ever- 1 green, and throughout winter and early spring the bush is covered with very large, very orange, ■ and very decorative hips (I finally pruned them off my bush in late September). I

“Radway Sunrise” is exciting throughout the summer, too, when it is covered from tip to toe with successive trusses of large single flowers. These . open fried-egg orange and fade to flame pink. In my garden it is the first, and the last, rose to flower. It is not common, though; for some reason it failed to catch on when it was released in this country a few years ago, and has faded out of most nursery lists. Perhaps the gardening public just don’t like single roses the way I do.