The Month for Roses

Rosa Fru Dagmar Hastrup in the front garden

My father became a gardener late in life and was deeply in love with his roses,  in particular a hybrid tea called Ena Harkness, about whose deep red, beautifully formed,, scented flowers he wrote poems.

Climbing Papa Meilland

In June my roses are probably at their best and I would like to pay tribute to my equivalent of Dad's Ena, which is Papa Meilland, another hybrid tea that has the largest (talk about cabbage roses), fullest, most scented flowers of any I can think of. It will remain blooming in a vase for a long time.  But what makes mine even better is that it is not just Papa Meilland, but Climbing Papa Meilland. It  grows up to 9ft tall and is able to nod its huge heads to me over the top of the yew hedge.

Papa Meilland from behind the yew hedge 

Apart from its fantastic scent, shape and colour it is superbly healthy and carries on flowering all summer. The climbing form is not easy to find these days which gives it an extra charm.

Papa Meilland peering  over the yew 

 Papa Meilland was raised by the Meilland family in France. Their most famous rose is Peace, one of the most popular roses in the world, but I infinitely prefer my Climbing Papa M. This rose was already in the garden when I took it over and is one of several existing plants I am grateful to have inherited. 

Mme Alfred Carrière against a blue sky

There are, of course, other roses that I am more than fond of. Going round the garden in sequence starting on the left by the house there is Mme Alfred Carrière, a climbing noisette which should have been pruned and tied back but which is sportingly carrying on as though I'd done all that. Hardly any thorns, very healthy, small white flowers all summer - a lovely rose. Move on to Tickled Pink, a well-behaved rose in all respects,  a rather uniform pink, perfect flower formation, healthy, tall, only slightly scented but good for picking (lasts well in a vase). Then we come to the rugosa rose Blanc Double de Coubert, double white in a sturdy bush, again very healthy and supposed to be 'recurrent'  flowering, but mine only throws out the occasional flower after June.

Buff Beauty

Behind the shed is the hybrid musk Buff Beauty, again inherited from the gardeners before me. It can be trained but I let it branch out and flop around so I can reach its bunches of little buff-yellow flowers. 

Abraham Darby

Back down the path on the other side of the garden is Abraham Darby, one of David Austin's English roses, large, many shades of coppery apricot, strong growing and you'd think perfect, but it has one fault, the flowers are too heavy for its stems so it hangs its head which is a pity. 

Is this American Pillar? I think it might be -  with pale Fru Dagmar Hastrup underneath

I mustn't forget the two roses in the front garden. Both were here when I arrived. One I think is American Pillar, - very bright pink, amazingly floriferous and spectacular as you walk past in the street. Its companion  Fru Dagmar Hastrup is a rugosa whose  delicate pink flowers don't seem daunted by its shouty neighbour. 

I have two wild roses: R. rubiginosa or eglantine, mentioned by Shakespeare, whose leaves, when crushed smell of apples, and R. glauca a blue-green leaved version of the eglantine (no smell of apples there though).There are others, but that's nearly enough for today.

Felicia growing up the trellis

My most recent rose is Felicia, another hybrid musk with generously produced silvery pink flowers, darker in the middle, strong musky fragrance and plenty of foliage. 

My roses don't get much attention. I don't water them but encourage them to put down their roots far enough to find water even in a drought. I mulch them in spring with my own compost and give them one rose feed only at the beginning of the season. I cut them back quite forcefully when I think they need it to encourage new growth. Oh, and I dead head, of course, that's essential. But for such spectacular plants, they are remarkably self sufficient. And just now they are all in flower.