In Great Britain, according to Loudon, “one of the earliest notices of the Rose occurs in Chaucer, who wrote early in the 13th century; and in the beginning of the 15th century, there is evidence of the Rose having been cultivated for commercial purposes, and of the water distilled from it being used to give a flavor to a variety of dishes, and to wash the hands at meals—a custom still preserved in some of the colleges, and also in many of the public halls within the city of London.”

In 1402, Sir William Clopton granted to Thomas Smyth a piece of ground called Dokmedwe, in Haustede, for the annual payment of a rose to Sir William and his heirs, in lieu of all services. The demand for roses formerly was so great, that bushels of them were frequently paid by vassals to their lords, both in England and France. The single rose, paid as an acknowledgment, was the diminutive representation of a bushel of roses—as a single peppercorn, which is still a reserved rent, represents a pound of peppercorns—a payment originally of some worth, but descending by degrees to a mere formality. Among the new-year gifts presented to Queen Mary in 1556, was a bottle of rose-water; and in 1570 we find, among the items in the account of a dinner of Lord Leicester, when he was Chancellor of the University of Oxford, three ounces of rose-water. In an account of a grant of a great part of Ely House, Holborne, by the Bishop of Ely, to Christopher Hatton, for twenty-one years, the tenant covenants to pay, on midsummer-day, a red rose for the gate-house and garden, and for the ground (fourteen acres) ten loads of hay and £10 per annum; the Bishop reserving to himself and successors free access through the gate-house, for walking in the gardens and gathering twenty bushels of roses yearly. In 1597, we find Gerard speaking of the Damask rose of Damascus and the Cinnamon rose as common in English gardens. Hakluyt says that the rose of Damascus was brought to England by De Linaker, physician to Henry IX.; and his successor, Sir Richard Weston, who wrote in 1645, says, “We have red roses from France.” In the reign of James I., the keeper of the robes and jewels at Whitehall, among a variety of other offices, had separate salaries allowed him, “for fire to air the hot-houses, 40s. by the year;” and, “for digging and setting of roses, in the spring gardens, 40s. by the year.”

It would seem, by these incidents, that previous to the seventeenth century, roses were far from being abundant, and indeed were so rare, that a bottle of distilled water was a fit present for Royalty, and a few roses an amply sufficient rent for house and land.

In the times of chivalry, the Rose was often an emblem that knights were fond of placing in their helmet or shield, implying that sweetness should always be the companion of courage, and that beauty was the only prize worthy of valor. It was not, however, always taken for such emblems, nor did it always bring to mind pleasant and agreeable images, but was often the signal for bloodshed in a desolating civil war which raged in England for more than thirty years.

The rival factions of the White and the Red Rose arose in 1452, during the reign of Henry VI., between the houses of Lancaster and of York. The Duke of York, a descendant of Edward III., claimed that his house possessed a nearer title to the crown than the reigning branch. He adopted a white rose on his shield, for his device, and the reigning monarch, Henry VI., of the house of Lancaster, carried the red rose. After several furious civil wars, after having flooded the whole kingdom with blood, and after the tragical death of three kings, Henry VII., of the house of Lancaster, re-united, in 1486, the two families by marrying Elizabeth, the heiress of the house of York.

The adoption of the red rose, by the house of Lancaster, was at a period far prior to these civil wars. About 1277, the Count of Egmont, son of the King of England, and who had taken the title of Count of Champagne, was sent by the King of France to Provence, with some troops, to avenge the murder of William PentecÔte, mayor of the city, who had been killed in an insurrection.

When this prince returned into England, after executing his orders, he took for his device the red rose, that Thibaut, Count of Brie and of Champagne, had brought from Syria, on his return from the crusade some years before.—That Count of Egmont was the head of the house of Lancaster, who preserved the red rose on their arms, while the house of York, on the other hand, adopted the white rose as their device.

An anecdote is told of the Prince of Bearne, afterwards Henry IV. of France, who was not 15 years of age when Charles IX. came to Nerac, in 1566, to visit the court of Navarre.

The fifteen days that he spent there were marked by sports and fÊtes, of which the young Henry was already the chief ornament. Charles IX. loved to practice archery; in providing for him that amusement, they thought that none of his courtiers, not even the Duke of Guise, who excelled at this sport, would venture to prove himself more adroit than the monarch. The young Henry, however, advanced, and at the first shot, carried off the orange, which served for a mark. According to the rules of the sport, be wished, as victor, to shoot first in the next trial; the King opposed it, and repulsed him with warmth; Henry stepped back a little, drew his bow, and directed the arrow against the breast of his adversary; the monarch quickly took shelter behind the largest of his courtiers, and requested them to take away “that dangerous little cousin.” Peace being made, the same sport was continued on the following day; Charles found an excuse for not coming. This time the Duke of Guise carried away the orange, which he split in two, and no other could be found for a mark.

The young prince perceived a Rose in the bosom of a young girl among the spectators, and seizing it, quickly placed it on the mark. The Duke shot first, and missed; Henry succeeding him, placed his arrow in the middle of the flower, and returned it to the pretty villager with the victorious arrow which had pierced it.

At Salency, a village of France, the Rose is the reward of excellent traits of character; they attribute the origin of the fÊte of La RosiÈre, in that country, to Medard, bishop of Noyon, who lived at the end of the fifteenth, and beginning of the sixteenth century, during the reign of Clovis. That bishop, who was also Lord of Salency, had established a fund, giving a sum of twenty-five livres (five dollars), and a crown or hat of roses, to the young girl on his estate who enjoyed the greatest reputation for amiability and excellence of character. Tradition states that the prelate himself gave this desired prize to one of his sisters, whom the public voice had named to be RosiÈre. Before the revolution of 1789, there could be seen, beneath the altar of the chapel of St. Medard, at Salency, a tablet, where that bishop was represented in pontifical dress, and placing a crown of roses on the head of his sister, who was on her knees, with her hair dressed.

The bishop had set aside, on a part of his domain, since called the “Manor of the Rose,” an annual rent of twenty-five livres, at that time a considerable sum, for paying all the expenses of this ceremony. It is stated that Louis XIII., being at the chateau of Varennes, near Salency, about the time of this ceremony, was desirous of adding to its Éclat by his personal presence; but finding himself indisposed, he sent to La RosiÈre, by a marquis of rank and first captain of his guards, a ring and his blue ribbon. “Go,” said he to the marquis, “and present this riband to her who shall be crowned. It has been long the prize of honor; it shall now become the reward of virtue.” Since that time La RosiÈre has received a ring, and she and her companions have worn the blue ribbon.

The Lord of Salency at one time enjoyed the right of choosing La RosiÈre from three of the village girls, who were presented by the inhabitants. But in 1773 a new lord, who purchased the estate of Salency, wished to take away the right enjoyed by the inhabitants, of naming and presenting to him the three candidates for the Rose. He assumed the nomination of La RosiÈre, without any assembling, election, or presentation, and suppressed entirely the pomp and ceremonies which until that time had always been observed. On the complaint of the inhabitants of Salency, the Court of Chancery at once set aside the pretensions of their lord; but he, not wishing to yield them, instituted a civil process before the Parliament of Paris, which gave a decree in favor of the inhabitants of the place, by which it confirmed to them all the ancient customs of the fÊte of La RosiÈre, of which the Lord of Salency was ordered to pay all the expenses.

The ceremony of La RosiÈre was suppressed during the excesses of the Revolution, but was reËstablished when the times had become more quiet. The celebration takes place in June, and would be well worthy the attendance of foreign travelers.

We have mentioned this custom very much in detail, as it is one of the few ceremonies still existing, in which the Rose occupies a prominent position, and is made alone the reward of merit. Other festivals of the Rose, similar to those of Salency, were established in several other villages of France and the neighboring countries. When Louis XVIII. was staying at Blakenbourg, in Germany, during the years of his exile, he was invited to assist at a festival of La RosiÈre. When he had placed the crown on the head of the young girl who was designated as the most virtuous, she said to him, ingenuously, “My Prince, may your crown be restored you.”

There exists a touching custom in the valley of Engadine, in Switzerland. If a man accused of a crime is able to justify himself the same day on which he is liberated from prison, a young and beautiful girl offers him a white rose, called the Rose of Innocence.

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 Phoenix, 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.

If the sight of roses, or their delicate fragrance, has been generally delightful and pleasing, there have also been those who could not endure them. Anne of Austria, wife of Louis XIII., of France, although otherwise very fond of perfumes, had such an antipathy to the rose, that she could not bear the sight of one even in a painting. The Duke of Guise had a still stronger dislike, for he always made his escape at the sight of a rose. Dr. Ladelius mentions a man who was obliged to become a recluse, and dared not leave his house, during the season of roses; because, if he happened to imbibe their fragrance, he was immediately seized with a violent cold in his head.

The odor of the rose, like that of many other flowers, has often occasioned serious injury, particularly in closed apartments; and persons to whose sensitive organizations the odor is disagreeable should not sleep with them in the chamber. Some authors of credibility mention instances of death caused by a large quantity of roses being left during the night in a sleeping apartment.