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| FRANCE, 1835, Plantier E. A. Bowles |
It is inevitable that we are asked what is our favorite rose. From one who truly loves roses the answer comes not; there is no absolute favorite. Yet inching high up on the list for me is Mme. Plantier. Vita Sackville-West extolled its virtues in her writings, and planted it in the orchard at Sissinghurst Castle to scramble up a very old apple tree to rain down with fragrance. And so in our garden it scrambles up a hundred year old Gravenstein apple, hanging over the front gate which I must open and close each time I come or go. The scent is delicious, of musk and damask rose, greeting me daily in late May and June. It inspired the planting of other things that also waft their scents on the air; Itea illicifolia rich with honey in high summer, the old Chinese Sacred Lily Narcissus that marks the end of each year and the start of the next, and the rare old Hydrangea species, H. scandens, with marbled leaves and white flowers scented of spice and herbs. The front gate is a good place to greet visitors.
Early in my years of gathering rose cuttings from cemeteries I encountered many old relics of Mme. Plantier. In my disappointment over failing to uncover some rarer beauty I nearly lost sight of how special this rose is. Laden with delicate small flowers, it is ever generous and kind, with apple green stems that are nearly thornless. I have often wondered about its origin. The Hybrid Chinas are an old group that marked the first crossings in Europe of once blooming Gallicas and Albas with the garden roses of China, the Teas and Chinas. Was it, as so many speculate, a Noisette seedling, like so many hybrids of the early 19th century? Did an Alba rose contribute the white coloring and smooth stems? I trust that genetic research will some day unravel this mystery.
Early in my years of gathering rose cuttings from cemeteries I encountered many old relics of Mme. Plantier. In my disappointment over failing to uncover some rarer beauty I nearly lost sight of how special this rose is. Laden with delicate small flowers, it is ever generous and kind, with apple green stems that are nearly thornless. I have often wondered about its origin. The Hybrid Chinas are an old group that marked the first crossings in Europe of once blooming Gallicas and Albas with the garden roses of China, the Teas and Chinas. Was it, as so many speculate, a Noisette seedling, like so many hybrids of the early 19th century? Did an Alba rose contribute the white coloring and smooth stems? I trust that genetic research will some day unravel this mystery.
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