Dispel not the dream

The arrival of the everblooming rose in the early 19th century was no small event. In fact, it was huge. Queens, most famously Marie Antoinette of France, posed with this earth-shaking discovery for their portrait. Georgia Torrey Drennan states unequivocally that “nothing in the history of the rose has been of greater importance than the creation of the Tea.” I have come upon her book, written way back in 1912, and I’m enjoying it as I would a bowl of luscious strawberries in the shade on a balmy, late spring day. Her writing style, naturally, is of a bygone era and delightfully transports me to her time and sensibilities. Her title page gives the first indication that today’s reader is taking a step back into a much different time.

EVERBLOOMING ROSES

For the Out-door Garden of the Amateur

THEIR CULTURE, HABITS, DESCRIPTION,
CARE, NATIVITY, PARENTAGE

WITH AUTHENTIC GUIDES TO THE SELECTION
OF EVERBLOOMING VARIETIES OF ROSES

BY

GEORGIA TORREY DRENNAN

"Rose culture may claim to be quite the oldest and the most
highly developed of the many struggles of man with nature."

In particular, right at the first page I was moved by her dedication of the book.

My dear children and grandchildren:-
The loveliest and sweetest of everblooming roses that I am telling you about grow in a garden in the South.
      You will never see the roses nor tread the garden walks. It is a beautiful garden. The roses are always in bloom. The buds never blight and the roses never shatter nor fade. The seasons never change. It is always summer. Daffodils, hyacinths, snowdrops, and tulips - flowers of spring; lilies and pansies, sweet peas and honeysuckles of summer; chrysanthemums and asters of autumn, in one sweet day of summer are blooming with the roses.
      There is a wealth and tangle of bloom. Weeds are crowded out by many kinds of flowers close beside the roses, blooming as flowers only bloom for those who love and tend them with patient care and thought.
      From the near-by orchard, fruity odours blend with the perfume of the roses. Bees are droning over the old pond pasture, white with clover blossoms. There is a vinous tang in the air from the Concord grapes in the little vineyard. The ambient air is sweet with the spicy breath of pinks and the fragrance of violets bordering the beds where the roses grow.
      Children are there at play. The heart of the happy young mother responds to their flute-like voices mingling with the notes of song birds flitting in and out of the roses climbing over the nursery window. - Tread softly. - Close the garden gate. - Dispel not the dream.

Were I to hold that dedication in my heart each day while I am tending my garden (notice I did not say working in my garden), I am convinced that the dream would be much closer to becoming the reality.

'Cracker Rose Pink', a found China rose. There's also a red version. This petite rose can be purchased from Rose Petals Nursery.

'Madame Lombard', a Tea rose bred by François Lacharme (France, 1878).

'Madame Lombard' again

'Souvenir de la Malmaison', a Bourbon of Tea heritage bred by Jean Béluze (France, 1843) and named in remembrance of the garden of Josephine, wife of Napoleon Bonaparte, at Malmaison.

This silly Florida gardener planted tulip bulbs last month after chilling them in the refrigerator for two months. Imagine my excitement upon seeing them bloom. This one is called 'Happy Generation'.

'White Maman Cochet', a Tea discovered by A. Marshall (Australia, before 1896) and by John W. Cook (United States, 1896).

'White Maman Cochet' again, hanging her head as she is wont to do. Yesterday's drizzle guaranteed that her 5" flower would not stand up for sure.

'Madame Antoine Rebe', a Tea bred by Joseph-Marin Laperrière (France, 1900). Known as a red Tea, yesterday she was definitely this fuchsia rose color at least on this blown flower.

'Madame Antoine Rebe' again, showing more red in this slightly opened bud.

'Souvenir de la Malmaison' again. It's early in this flush so she's not covered in blooms, but her habit is to just keep blooming and I don't often see her completely covered. Her flowers in this early spring have been very large though, easily 5" when fully open.

'Rosette Delizy', a Tea bred by Clément Nabonnand (France, 1922).She was only a tiny thing when planted last November, but she has grown impressively and is now covered in buds. So thrilling to have her back in the garden.

I thought this photo conveyed somewhat of a bygone feeling with the climber 'Clotilde Soupert', a poly/Tea, dribbling down over the azaleas. Oh, red and fuchsia are an appropriate combination in Florida...just sayin'.

If you would like to download this public-domain book, Everblooming Roses, go HERE. Google has graciously scanned many old books and makes them available in the EPUB version and in PDF. I do hope you’ll settle in amongst your cushy pillows with a cup of tea or hot cocoa and take this trip to Georgia Drennan’s Mississippi garden. You will surely discover the true meaning of everblooming roses and their impact on your gardening life.

Companion planting run amok

One of the knocks against rose gardening is the unappealing look of ‘soldier’ rows of bushes naked from the knees (or waist) down. I deliberately did not design my garden in rows. For one thing I didn’t have the room, and for another I was afraid my front yard would look stupid. So I wound up with circles and curves. My biggest frustration as a new gardener was all the empty space around the tiny new roses and later the unleafy state of my young bushes. So I made the decision to add companion plants in an effort to reduce the pressure to perform on the roses and on me. I figured with other stuff to look at my ugly roses wouldn’t be so noticeable. So my garden became cottage-y.

My learning curve was pretty steep. Every plant was an experiment. I learned that very few plants when placed in a watered, amended Florida garden do not become gargantuan. Plant after plant was eliminated due to their bulk in my tiny garden and the fact that the roses were filling the empty space on their own. So my cache of companions were few: Salvia farinacea, daylilies, Purple Coneflower, Dianthus chinensis, and this year dahlias. Admittedly, there are some that I haven't tried, but I got gun-shy. There are a few that reseed, returning in winter or early, early spring like nigella ‘Love in a Mist’ and larkspur, but they’re done in by the heat eventually and are gone by June.

Last year I went nuts with Purple Coneflower seeds, and when the seedlings sprouted I was so covetous of them that I barely thinned them, not realizing these babies would grow into beasts 15” in diameter (and more) with a root system even broader and reaching for China. The lovely non-rhizome-spreading Salvia farinacea is a reseeder as well but in the current season. Though easily thinned, it can fill a bed if left alone. The thrill of spring became the wonderment of mid-summer and the terror of fall.

Now, the cottage gardener would love this bed, but upon hearing that there's a 4-1/2 by 6 foot rose bush in there the rose gardener would have heart failure.

When I was taking these 'before' shots back in mid-October after my summer hiatus, I was stunned by the density of the companion plants. The liriope had become huge; the salvia with glorious abandon had spread everywhere even overtaking the Purple Coneflower plants. By the way there are three rose bushes in there.

This is 'White Maman Cochet' no doubt struggling to breathe.

The pulling began shyly at first. The sweet purple flower stalks were so lovely.

Then reality hit home. If there's no light, there's no life, and I found lots of deadwood at the bottom of WMC. The short greenery is weeds. Apparently, they don't need light. The larger leaves on the right are young Purple Coneflower plants, raring to go.

Believe it or not 'Madame Antoine Rebe' is actually blooming under that pile of companions - even the 'Aaron' caladiums gave up the fight.

Here's the opposite angle.

'Souvenir de St. Anne's' was originally planted too close to 'White Maman Cochet' which was bad enough, but then the daylily grew and the coneflowers grew and she is fighting for her space.

My attitude finally became 'take no prisoners', and I think WMC is happier already.

She has a few blooms and buds and a very strong will.

There are a few salvias in the middle that I didn't have the heart to pull. Maybe I'll be able to tuck them in somewhere. Kept under control they are my preferred in-the-ground companion now.

I added more space to the back of the bed, meaning I pulled up the weed cloth, broke up the compacted sand, threw in some Sphagnum peat moss, bagged soil, Milorganite and alfalfa and trusted that liriope isn't as nutritionally demanding as roses) and moved three of the 'Super Blue' liriope along the new back line.

I stuck coneflowers and salvias in between the liriope. I hate to throw away plants.

Don't mean to cause eye strain, but I just had to include this near-dark last shot of the day. The Program setting on the camera made light where there was no light, but the camera just could not focus on what it couldn't see. These are the coneflower plants I salvaged. I think there are six. Several small ones were thrown away. Oh, the pain. My plan for next season is to keep them in pots and scatter them throughout the garden. Requiring a shovel and several deep cuts around the rootball, these are impossible to pull by hand. They have grand root systems. Mother Nature can be very proud. Of course, there will also be the seeds from this year that will be sprouting from now on. Must stay on top of those.

'White Maman Cochet' does have some new growth after last month's feeding but nowhere near what she would have had with more light and less root competition. Poor thing.

Here is 'Madame Antoine Rebe'. She has struggled since her move to this bed in early spring but looks amazingly well considering her environment for the last few months. Unfortunately, she's one-third the size she was back in February.

David Austin's 'Tradescant' will be planted in here soon, and 'Souvenir de St. Anne's' will be moved over.

Overplanting with companions had its negative effects elsewhere in the garden. I believe these are six - no, seven - Penta plants put in on June 28th for fill in the 'Le Vesuve' center bed. My poor 'Le Vesuve' has had a terrible year of dieback to the extent that recently I was giving strong consideration to replacing him with 'Belinda's Dream'.

Gone now are the Pentas. The Purple Coneflowers would have been, too, if I had had my shovel.

This photo says a thousand words to me. Look how far the bush extends past the right edge (rear) of the bed, and look how far away from the front edge he grew - or rather didn't grow. He did try to put on new growth, but most of it died. Those pentas were just sucking up the nutrients and pushing back the rose's toes

Here's a shot from the other side. You can see there's not much bush on the right side, and look at that huge clump of coneflowers. Not thinning seedlings to one individual is a dereliction of a Florida gardener's duty. Companions are lovely, but roses come first.

This photo from directly behind and back near the house shows that 'Le Vesuve' is a very one-sided bush. The left side even extends beyond the photo frame. How sad for him, but at least he survived. Roses really are tough.

And this June 28th photo says it all! 'Le Vesuve' was a balanced bush back then with many more canes than today. However, his decline had already started on the left side due to the coneflower plants, I'm sure. I only added to his problems with the addition of the pentas. Apparently, the salvia on the right is a less intrusive plant and less demanding of nutrients than the coneflowers and the pentas which grew to almost three feet tall. I'll be putting daylilies back along the edges.

I will be much more conservative about my companion planting in the future. Perhaps in other regions/climates where these perennials are not so robust and the soil is richer they would not pose the same threat to roses as they have in my garden. Naturally, even in Florida a larger garden would be effected less, assuming the gardener didn't get greedy (who me?) and plant too far under the roses' canopy. The daylilies do not seem to have this deleterius effect, thankfully. Perhaps I can use the pentas in pots, too, maybe even partially sinking them in the soil - or not. And maybe the restrictions of the pot will limit their size. At any rate this year has been another learning season filled with as much fretting as the previous ones - different year, different problems. I am grateful to the true Master Gardener for these opportunities to learn, and I should pray to become a better student.