Luscious pink roses

Flower & Garden Magazine, Feb-March, 1993 by Molly Dean

At the word "rose," an image comes to my mind of a luscious pink rose blooming in a distant, dreamlike garden.

OUR ANCESTORS PROBABLY would have shaken their heads in disbelief at the sight of many of our modern roses. Recently breeders have created an array of hues that provide a rich and varied feast for the eye; yet, one wonders if the traditional rose colors, the pinks and whites, can ever really be surpassed in beauty.

At the word "rose," an image comes to my mind of a luscious pink rose blooming in a distant, dreamlike garden. Perhaps it is the garden of my grandmother's childhood home in a small country town - a garden I have heard about all my life but have never actually seen. This garden was the place where paths meandered among stately, sweet-scented rose bushes and where my

grandmother made bouquets of the ruffly pink rose 'Paul Neyron.' Her favorite color was always pink, and she later brought to her own garden many of the classic pink roses of her childhood. There is a particularly compelling and nostalgic quality to a pink rose, and, to this day, I always seek them out.

Of course, the number of varieties of pink roses is staggering, but some well-loved favorites have emerged, not only for me but for people the world over. Some of the most beautiful are among the "old" or "classic" roses.

The eglantine rose (Rosa eglanteria), also known as the wild sweetbriar, has been found for centuries rambling over the fields of Europe. This simple, single rose of a deep, clear pink, used by Shakespeare as one of the flowers decorating Titania's bower, gives off a light scent. Yet it is the distinctive apple scent of its leaves that one remembers best. On a windy or rainy day, it will permeate a whole garden. The delicate flowers of late spring or early summer are followed by a mass of decorative red hips.

The thorny eglantine is easily grown in most gardens. In cold climates, it is used as a shrub, but with the warm summers in my Georgia garden, the eglantine has a tendency to climb.

There are many beautiful pink moss roses that emerged from the centifolia rose sometime before the mid-18th century. 'Gloire des Mousseux' (introduced in 1852) is a good example. Each rose bud has a fine, mossy emerald-green covering that folds back as the flower opens. It then sets forth a display of large, luxuriant blooms with close-set soft pink petals.

'Celsiana' (prior to 1750), one of the damask roses that were traditionally used in the making of perfume, was one of the first roses I planted in my country garden. Through the years, it has remained one of my favorites for its delightful fragrance and romantic-looking flowers - crinkled blossoms of a tender shade of pink. Borne in clusters, each bloom displays tall golden anthers; they fade to a pinkish white in the bright sun of summer.

I was not surprised to learn 'Celsiana' is the subject of one of the most beautiful rose portraits painted by the French painter Redoute during the Napoleonic Era. I was surprised, however, at the ease of cultivation of this rose and how unobtrusively its soft gray-green leaves blend into the garden while the plant is not in bloom.

Equally subtle are the blossoms of the well-loved bourbon rose, 'La Reine Victoria' (1872). Described variously as rich lilac pink, rose pink or dusty pink, the flowers of this rose open in a smooth cuplike shape that later relaxes into ruffles and frills. The bush itself has soft green leaves and, although fairly slender in profile, may grow to an erect 6 feet. The blossoms, which appear all summer, tend to be long-lasting and stand up well to very hot weather.

As a result of the hybridization of the bourbons with assorted other roses, a large collection appeared during the last half of the 18th century that became known as the hybrid perpetuals. Included among these is 'Paul Neyron' (1869), the rose so loved by my grandmother. This rose also forms cup-shaped blossoms, but of enormous size and of a rich, warm shade of pink. My grandmother always said that its scent had a faint lemony tinge. Another superior example of the hybrid perpetuals is 'Mrs. John Laing' (1887). Again, its size is noteworthy. The double blossoms are very large and of a delicate silvery pink hue. Both of these roses are vigorous growers and are winter hardy just about anywhere.

Yet another hybrid perpetual, 'Heinrich Munch' (1911) has proved itself in my garden to be everything one could want in a luscious pink rose. It has quartered, exceptionally full blossoms up to 7 inches across, a gorgeous fragrance and a profusion of bloom. Last spring, I counted over 60 plump pink buds bursting with life.

Profusion of bloom is a quality shared with the rambler rose, 'Dr. W. Van Fleet' (1910). Rambling roses are climbers that put out a regular supply of new flowering shoots from close to ground level yearly. They bloom mostly on old wood and are ideal for pillars or arches. My mother so admired a 'Dr. W. Van Fleet' rose at a friend's home that she took a cutting and planted it against a fence in her Atlanta garden. Today, more than five years later, she has an enormous twenty-foot plant completely covering the fence. In late spring it produces hundreds of soft blush pink, tea-scented roses, beautifully set off by the dark glossy foliage. These blossoms are truly exquisite from shapely buds to full-blown double flowers. The light pink ages gradually to white.