read Scotch Briar.

ROSES AND ROSE GROWING

CHAPTER I

Happy is the rosarian who is free to choose the spot in which to make his rose garden—to choose the ideal position, with ideal soil, in an ideal climate. Such fortuitous combinations are possible. But though they do not fall to the lot of one rose-lover in a hundred, it is still easy to find a bit of ground in which roses will flourish; for, with proper care, there are few localities—in England at all events—where they cannot be made to grow. At the same time, in choosing the position of our rose garden, certain dangers must be guarded against, as far as possible.

Position.—First of all I would say, avoid a draughty spot; for nothing is so bad for roses as a draught. Even an exposed garden, if it is quite flat and open, is preferable to a draughty one, however picturesquely shaded it may be. The perfect position should be sheltered from the north and east: but not closely surrounded by trees. For roses are lovers of light and sun; and while they enjoy a little shade for a few hours in the day, they will not flourish in stuffy, closely shadowed places, where they cannot get enough light and air.

Shelter.—If some sort of shelter is absolutely imperative, there are various ways of producing it without putting up an unsightly paling, or building a costly wall in the garden. One of the best is a low hedge kept closely clipped, of yew, holly, privet, or beech—the first is, of course, slow in growth. Care, however, must be taken to plant the hedge at such a distance from the rose beds that its roots shall not suck all the nourishment from them. But nothing is more charming or suitable than to give the choice and more tender roses a shelter of roses—planting the strong-growing Wichuraianas, Ramblers and other vigorous kinds along a screen of wooden lattice-work. This not only makes a quite sufficient break to the wind, but forms a delightful background to the beds of dwarf roses.

If possible, the ground should slope very gently to south and west. Flat ground is preferable to any slope steeper than one in fifty. But some slight fall is extremely advantageous, as it helps drainage.

Drainage.—This is another most important point to be considered. For whether the soil be light or heavy, it is absolutely essential that a rose garden should be well drained; as roses so deeply resent wet about the roots, that they promptly show their displeasure by dying. If, therefore, on low-lying land—and unfortunately we cannot always avoid this—there is any suspicion of water within three feet of the surface, broken crocks, clinkers, wood ashes, and such-like materials, must be placed at the bottom of the beds to keep the subsoil free in times of heavy rain and floods; and a good drain of ordinary field pipes must be run from the beds into the nearest ditch. For let it be remembered that if we intend to grow good roses, we must be prepared to do our very best for them, and to spend a little time, a little money, and a good deal of thought, on preparing the ground they are to grow in, before we dream of planting them. Far better to begin our garden with a dozen roses well planted in properly prepared ground, than with a hundred put in anywhere and anyhow.

This brings us to the next point—

The Soil,—which is far more important than even the position of our garden. If we are so lucky as to be able to choose the soil as well as the position, then let us choose a rich brown loam; for that is the soil roses revel in and need but little else to nourish them. Such a soil as this we find in the famous rose-gardens of Essex, Hertfordshire, Oxfordshire, and Kent. I have even seen roses growing superbly, without manure of any kind, in an open field of this rich loam on one of the most exposed ridges of Warwickshire. But if such natural soil cannot be had, we must make it, as I know to my cost; for in my own garden the ground is so poor that every rose-bed has to be made three feet deep. And nothing in this case produces such excellent results as the top spit of an old pasture. To get this, the turf should be pared off carefully, and then the first nine inches of brown fibrous loam beneath taken out. If the space thus left is filled up with other common soil, the turf can be relaid, and no harm is done to the meadow. If, on the other hand, the turf is not needed in the same spot, it may be stacked in a heap—grass downward—and kept for a couple of years till it has rotted down completely; when, mixed with manure, it makes perfect potting soil, or the finest possible dressing for our rose beds. In the neighbourhood of towns and villages, where building is going on, this turfy loam is often to be had when new roads are cut out and houses run up. And it is well worth the rosarian's while to be on the watch for such opportunities, and secure a few loads of the top spit from the builder, to stack in the garden against the time it is needed.

Having provided the requisite soil, we are now ready to begin work by making the beds. The general arrangement of the garden, the shape and size of the beds has to be determined. And here, of course, the rosarian must be guided by his own taste. A few hints, however, from personal experience may be helpful. As to shape, that is purely a matter of taste. But whether they be round or square, straight or curved, in size they should not be too large or too wide to allow of our getting easily at their precious contents. For at all times of the year roses need constant and watchful care; and the amateur—especially if a woman, hampered with tiresome petticoats—must have space in which to move, in order to pick off caterpillars, cut the flowers whether alive or dead, and see to all the various needs of the plants, such as weeding, watering, manuring and pruning. As to width, I find five feet ample in a small garden; as that allows of three rows of dwarf plants eighteen inches to two feet apart; and enables me to reach those in the centre row without injuring the others.

Making the Beds.—Let us therefore suppose we are about to make a straight bed five feet wide and twelve long, in hitherto unbroken ground, to contain seventeen roses. The first thing to do is to pare off the turf. The top spit of some eight or nine inches below it, is sure to be fairly good soil from the fibrous roots of the grass and clover. We therefore dig it off a space three feet long and the whole width of the bed, and wheel it down to the further end. The second spit in such land as my own garden is much poorer, with a good deal of sandy marl in it. This is taken right out and heaped at the side of the bed, to be taken away later on. The third spit, which is now exposed, is a cold, sandy marl, with many stones.

We have therefore a hole five feet wide, a yard in length, and two feet deep. If the marl at the bottom does not show any sign of water, it may be broken up with the fork, mixing in a little manure at the same time, and we can leave it as it is. If, on the other hand, it is full of water, some of it must be carted away, and crocks, stones, clinkers, wood ashes, and even bits of turf, grass downwards, put in below to drain it, as I have already said.

Bastard