Here the first, and always the most dramatic flush of roses is over, and what a glorious sight it has been. The front fascade of the house was dripping with flowers - Maréchal Niel, a rather biscuity yellow, Duchesse d'Auerstadt, a much clearer yellow which retains its colour even on a south-facing wall, and Westerland. The latter's colour is still a bit of a worry for me and indeed for Quest-Ritson who in the RHS rose encyclopedia remarks that its "glowing mixture of vermilion,crimson,orange,pink,yellow, and amber" is 'difficult to handle in a small garden". Happily our garden is not too small, and I justify its presence not only on account of it 'wow factor', but because given that it is in full sun for most of the day, a strong colour is needed to make any impact at all. Moreover I am not sure that with our crépi anything pink, or indeed white goes very well. On what we call the 'Great Wall, also much of the time in full sun, Ena Harkness, Lady Hillingdon and the wonderfully named Vicomtesse Pierre de Fou, this in fact a pink, but a strong one, did the business. The latter was obtained from La Roseraie du Desert, but in my excitement at the discovery of all their China and Tea roses I had perhaps rather forgotten how wonderful my old favourites, the Hybrid Musks are. Moonlight has never looked better, as indeed its parent, Trier, now at least two metres in circumference. But there is hardly a dud Hybrid Musk. Along with Moonlight, we grow in alphabetical order Buff Beauty, Cornelia, Kathleen, Nur Mahal, Penelope, and Vanity. Perhaps the only slight disappointment so far is Nur Mahal, a semi-double purplish-crimson. Quest-Ritson writes that it is easy to grow,but that is not the case with ours, perhaps only because it has been planted in a most unfriendly spot on top of a south-facing bank.
I have also been reminded how striking the best of the antirrhinums are. By the best I mean the 'Giants', quite a different animal from the miserable antirrhinums that one buys in godets in the markets chain stores such as Gamm Vert. These are real snapdragons, three feet tall. I buy ours from Chiltern seeds, particularly liking the fiery crimson red of Defiance, but I am told that the white Snowflake is very good as well. I plant mine in the Spring and get quite a good flowering by the end of the summer. But the real glory comes now from those that have survived the winter, which seems to be the majority. But some will struggle on for a third season, but it is hardly worth it, but I find that they are well worth the trouble.
Meanwhile I have been much annoyed by an article by Anne Wareham in an April edition of the The Spectator attacking the National Gardens Scheme with its famous Yellow Book in which gardens opened to the public under this scheme are listed. Having once been involved in such a garden I can only report what fun it gave me and its owners, even when someone was heard to remark when leaving: that he very much regretted having travelled all this way just to see "bloody Cow parsley", the cow parsley in our eyes being one of the great glories of the garden at that season, but everybody is entitled to their point of view. Wareham seems to be especially annoyed not by the cow parsley but by "the fashionable lemon drizzle cake', which according to her is too often served on these open days, but I suppose her more serious point is that the scheme is a terrible force for conservatism in gardening and of a lack of quality control.
I rather doubt that she is right about this. In fact there is a very strict control of these gardens by the organisers, perhaps too strict, and perhaps this control can be seen as force for conservatism. But the fact is that during the eighty-five years of the scheme fashions in gardening have changed quite happily, the changes perhaps being speeded up by the visits, so one can just as well argue that the Scheme has been a force for change. Moreover within the fashion there is almost unlimited opportunity for variations. We none of us garden in the exactly the same way, and of course one of the great opportunities provided by the Scheme is a chance to see these variations, which we can adapt to our own tastes. Furthermore just to see other plants in situ is a great eye-opener, much more informative than any illustration can be.
Of course the article does raise the question of why most of us garden at all. In my last blog I suggested that 'ocupational therapy' was a prime ingredient, but there are all sorts of other reasons, including in the past an excuse for getting out of the clutches of the wife. What I guess most of us will not be concerned about is whether we are making garden history. As in other walks of life there will always be the very rare innovators and thank the Lord for them. But most of us are very happy to go along with the crowd, and we do not need Anne Wareham to spoil our pleasure. Moreover if she lived France where no National Garden Scheme exists she might begin to realise what a not only pleasurable but instructive activity garden visiting can be.
