Let us now consider those roses which, although their lovely season of blooming is but short, shed such fragrance and delight on the gardens of rich and poor. Our oldest favourites first—the Cabbage, sweetest of all; the Moss; the Maiden's Blush; the Crimson Damask; the Austrian, Scotch, and Sweet Briars; the tiny Rose de Meaux, so seldom seen now in England that when we find bunches of it on every barrow in the Paris streets, to be had for a few centimes, we fall upon it as on lost treasure.

Then the climbers, the Ayrshires, Banksias, Polyanthas and Evergreen. And when to these we add all the novelties which Japan has bestowed upon us in the Rugosas and the Wichuraianas, and those marvels which the hybridists are deriving from them and introducing every year in such numbers, we may well consider where best to make a place for these lovely roses, so that from April till August we can rejoice in their varied beauty.

Of the climbing roses I treat in a separate chapter. But if with regard to the dwarf or bush roses, some may raise objections to massing them in by themselves, because they are so soon out of flower and leave the beds bare of bloom for the rest of the summer, the objection—a valid one—may be overcome in two ways. First, by planting China roses among them and an edging of the charming Dwarf Polyantha roses round them. Secondly, by planting lilies and late-flowering perennials with them, which will be in bloom as soon as they are over.

But to my mind, the Cabbage, Moss, Provence and Damask roses look most thoroughly in place in the old-fashioned mixed border along the walk in the kitchen garden, where they flower after wallflowers, daffodils and polyanthus, with lilies and pinks, stocks and carnations, and all the delightful and fragrant odds and ends that, somehow, make it the spot in the whole garden to which all footsteps turn instinctively.

The Old Double Yellow Provence, Rosa HemisphÆrica or Sulphurea is somewhat rare now, and only found in one or two modern catalogues or in very old gardens.

Rosa Gallica, however, is easily distinguished from Damascena. Its flowering shoots are upright, with few prickles, and rigid leaves. It seeds very freely; and this accounts for the innumerable varieties which were in vogue fifty or sixty years ago. It is said that one grower near London had two thousand different sorts. It is still largely grown in England for distilling purposes, on account of its delicious perfume; and a field of the "Apothecary's rose" in full flower is a lovely sight in July. But the chief centre of the industry used to be round Provins, the old capital of La Brie, about sixty miles from Paris, on the way to ChÂlons. Here vast fields were grown, the petals being used not only for scent, but for conserves and medicinal purposes.

When well grown, namely well fed and well pruned by cutting out all the weak wood and shortening back the strong shoots to six or seven eyes, Rosa gallica is worthy of a choice place as a decorative rose, whether in the house or on the exhibition bench, when the almost single flowers open and show their brilliant golden stamens. The best sorts grown at present are Œillet Parfait, Perle des PanachÉes, Rosa Mundi, Red Damask (the all-red form of this last), Village Maid, and Tuscany.

This rose was brought from Syria to Europe at the time of the Crusades. The true York and Lancaster is the best example of the old Damask rose, and grows into a vigorous bush when well established. Madame Hardy, a cross with the Cabbage rose, is an excellent pure white variety; and in the last few years some new and admirable Damask roses, Lady Curzon, Lady Sarah Wilson, Lady White, and the Single Crimson Damask, have been raised by Mr. Turner; while Mr. Orpen, of Colchester, introduced the beautiful pink climber, Mrs. O. G. Orpen, in 1906.

These are among the most brilliant of our early summer roses, and are distinguished also by their singular and aromatic scent. But their flowering season is as short as it is vivid.

The single Austrian Briars, mentioned by John Gerard in 1596, both the Yellow, and the Copper known in France as Capucine, should be found, if possible, in every garden. But both are of moderate growth; and the Copper is often troublesome to grow, showing itself as capricious as it is attractive. For instance, I have tried in vain for eight years to make it flourish in my garden, while in a cottage garden by the roadside a quarter of a mile away it flowers so profusely that during its short-lived season of beauty the passers-by stop to gaze at its brilliant single blossoms of satiny-yellow lined with vivid copper red.

The double yellow Harrisonii was raised in America in 1830; and in 1837 Willock introduced the beautiful and fragrant Persian Yellow, which grows so freely wherever it is planted.

All these Austrian briars have been utilized of late by the hybridists with most interesting results. In 1900 the famous house of Pernet-Ducher, of Lyons, succeeded in developing a new race of roses, which they named Rosa Pernetiana, by crossing the Persian Yellow with Antoine Ducher, a hybrid perpetual. The first of these was Soleil d'Or, a large, full, flat flower, varying from gold and orange yellow to reddish gold shaded with nasturtium red. It is perfectly hardy, and perpetual flowering. And in 1907 they added a further seedling, far more amazing in colour, named the Lyon Rose—offspring of a cross between an unnamed seedling of Soleil d'Or and the hybrid Tea Mme. MÉlanie Soupert. This, judging by the reports of those who have seen it, is destined to be a most valuable addition to our gardens.

Another Pernetiana, Les Rosati, has been raised by Gravereaux, from a cross between Persian Yellow and a hybrid Tea. It is hardy, prolific, and when I saw it at the end of September, 1907, in MM. Soupert et Notting's ground, it was covered with brilliant cherry-red flowers on a yellow base—the outside of the petals pale salmon. Godfried Keller, a cross with Austrian Copper, apricot with the outside of the petals dark yellow, semi-double and perpetual, and Parkfeuer, a shining scarlet hybrid briar, are both of the same type.

These invaluable roses, the result of years of careful hybridizing of the common Sweet Briar, R. rubiginosa, with various old-fashioned roses, are amongst the greatest gifts of last century to the rosarian, the amateur, and the cottager.

Lady Penzance, one of the most attractive, though less hardy and vigorous than others, resulted from a cross with the Austrian Copper; Lord Penzance from the Austrian Yellow. This last is extraordinarily fragrant, the scent of the leaves after rain filling the air to a considerable distance. The rather small flowers of both these show their parentage very clearly in colour. But for size of blossom and effect, none of the fourteen varieties equal the bright pink and white Flora McIvor, the crimson Meg Merrilies, and the superb dark crimson Anne of Geirstein. This last is a plant of extraordinary vigour, forming in a few years huge bushes ten feet high and nearly as many through. For a high rose hedge or screen these hybrid sweet briars are invaluable, while they may be also used for pillars and arches. And, with the exception of Lord and Lady Penzance, which are of more moderate growth, they are easy to propagate, growing readily from cuttings, which, if put in early in the autumn are in flower the next summer. The foliage of the common Sweet Briar, however, remains the most fragrant of all, with a clean, wholesome sweetness that is unsurpassed by its more showy children, always excepting Lord Penzance, which, if possible, excels it. Therefore let no one discard the old friend, and let them plant it beside a walk, so that they may give it a friendly pinch as they pass, to be rewarded by its delicious scent.

The Stanwell Perpetual is a Scotch briar, hybridized most probably with the Damask Perpetual or some such rose, flesh-coloured and flowering from May till the autumn.

The varieties in cultivation in those days were alba the single white, introduced in 1784 by Thunberg, a very lovely flower; and rubra, the single pinkish-red (Cels. 1802). The hybridists began work upon these some twenty years ago. Paul and Son brought out America in 1895; and the fine Atropurpurea in 1900, one of the very best singles, deep glowing crimson with brilliant golden stamens when opening at sunrise, and turning purple later in the day. Double hybrids were also raised, the charming white Mme. Georges Bruant, 1888; Blanc double de Coubert, 1892; Belle Poitevin, 1895, rose-coloured and very fragrant; and the handsome Rose À parfum de l'Hay, 1904, carmine cerise and deliciously scented. Fimbriata, 1891, semi-double, white tinted blush, the edge of the petals fringed like a dianthus, is perhaps the prettiest of all, and is specially suited for growing as an isolated bush.

But of all the hybrids none can be compared to the superb Conrad Ferdinand Meyer (MÜller, 1900). This last is said to be crossed with Gloire de Dijon. It certainly possesses just the same rich fragrance as that invaluable rose, while its beautiful colour, a warm tender pink, its large size and perfect form, its more than vigorous growth, and its persistence in blooming—I have it in flower here from the middle of May till December—render it one of the most valuable additions to the rose garden of the new century.

Besides these there are numbers of other varieties, as the continental growers, such as Bruant, Cochet, Gravereaux, Schwartz, etc., have paid considerable attention to these roses of late years. But the future of this race is bound to be a very important one, and so far we have not in the least realized what its effect may be.

These three last are perpetual-flowering, and known as Pernetiana roses.