Armitage's Garden Annuals: A Color Encyclopedia Book

Is there anything quite so romantic as "lost roses?" Christopher's search for old or heritage roses takes him from New England to England, Virginia to California, and with a long sojourn in Texas. Old roses, many of which have been "lost" to time and change of fashion, are propagated mainly by cuttings which are re-rooted. Thus, true old roses are part of the same bush, having gone through no genetic change (evidently, rose seeds do not produce identical bushes; the only way to combat disease in old roses is by destroying diseased plants and finding clean ones to propagate).

Roses have long been a favorite flower, particularly in Europe, though many European climates are unsuitable for these plants imported from the Middle East and Asia, particularly China. European immigrants to America regularly brought cuttings from their roses at home, and often enjoyed a much happier bush in Arizona, Texas, or California than the yields of Scotland, Germany, or Wales. Rose history is long, thorny, and hard to trace, complicated by instances of status and colonialism.

Over time, as floral fashions changed, old roses were out in favor of newly propagated roses. Scent, the trait prized by ancient cultures, was bred out in favor of perpetual bloom. Brighter colors and constant bloom cycles and genetic hardiness overtook the market, rooting out old roses. Yet, old roses have survived, in surprising ways.

Christopher relates his search for lost roses by traveling to sites known for their bounty. An old cemetery in Pennsylvania yielded a special crop, because bushes were planted on graves before ease of lawn maintenance overtook sentimentality in graveyards. Eccentric rose growers, generous with cuttings, abound in New England. The Gold Rush, of all things, brought dozens upon dozens of old roses to the welcoming climate of California, and ghost towns abound with old roses that Christopher found, alongside veteran rose rustlers. My favorite portion was Christopher's trip to Texas. German and Czech immigrants brought roses with them, and the plants found the heat and sunshine delectable. Many of the central/southeast Texas towns Christopher visited are where my immigrant ancestors lived, and I have to wonder if anyone in my family history grew roses; unfortunately, no one in the living generations gardens anything but vegetables.

Unfortunately, Christopher betrays the zeitgeist of his own age, and is wholly uncritical of the role that racism and classism played in the history of roses. The opium trade contributed to rose propagation in England, and while Christopher drops a few anti-imperialist lines, he excuses the plunder in favor of the outcome. He refers to the "Old South" in a lost-cause way, which is regrettable. Frankly, a revised edition could clear up a lot of this mess, since most of it occurs in comments. However, there is a brief moment of redemption when he connects old roses to black women of the generation born after the end of American chattel slavery. He was unable to interview anyone--the few living in that generation declined his requests--but he speculates that formerly enslaved people propagated cuttings from plantations. While these women were kept out of garden clubs and flower shows, they grew some of the most valuable and coveted roses in the world in their own gardens. They valued continuity, and took pride in keeping their gardens identical to their original forms. Meanwhile, most Southern gardeners followed changing fashion and eventually lost their old roses. I wonder if there is any good history, oral or written, of these gardeners who chose connection to the past over changing whims.

In Search of Lost Roses was published over forty years ago. At the time, David Austin's project was new and he was looking for an American distributor. (He chose Texas as the American base for his nursery.) Now, Austin is popular among rosarian hopefuls like myself. Thanks to him, we can get the look and scent of old roses without the difficulties of trespassing and propagating cuttings. Of course, growers of old roses frown upon Austin's English roses, which are bred "in the tradition" of old roses but are not actually old roses. Yet, for someone like me, who will likely move a few times and doesn't have infinite space for experimenting with roses, an Austin rose is a safe bet for deeply scented roses growing in my own yard.

The Heritage Rose Foundation, which was brand-new when Christopher wrote this book, is flourishing today. A search for 'Souvenir de la Malmaison,' named after Empress Josephine's home (and extensive rose garden), yields several links for purchase and a Wikipedia-fueled sidebar. Fortunately, the age of information has only helped the old rose community. I thank Christopher for writing this mostly enjoyable introduction to old roses. I doubt I'll ever fully join the fold, but it's a topic with much scope for the imagination that I hope to explore further.

Close to the end, Christopher mentions a rose named 'Félicité et Perpetué,' and David Austin sells these gorgeous blooms, though not Stateside...perhaps one day I can fulfill all my dreams and have roses named after these female martyrs.