The Marechal Niel On The Greenhouse Roof

I am not sure that we see it so often as we used to do, that rampant, strong-caned, glorious Marechal Niel. A good many of the plants have died out through canker, and their places have not been filled. Probably if Rose lovers were asked about the rare old Marechal, with its great golden flowers (they are not really gold-coloured, of course, but "golden" has an impressive sound) and its powerful fragrance, they would say that they loved it as deeply as ever. In the abstract they do, but in the concrete they let it slip away, because their attention is fixed on novelties. Many people undoubtedly lose interest in a plant that is given to dying away abruptly without any apparent reason. See how the Apricot is falling into disfavour. With all the beautiful Roses which have been introduced during the past few years, there is no improved Marshal Niel; it still stands alone; and this being so, there certainly ought not to be any fear of its dropping out of the ranks. It is really more suited for a cool conservatory than a heated greenhouse, as winter warmth pushes it into growth too soon; and this is a point which its lovers should bear in mind. It ought to be dormant till March, then it will bloom in April and May. During those months a really strong plant may give two or three hundred flowers, as it not only bears abundantly but continuously. A deep root run of turfy loam favours strong growth. The cutting back of long canes to the stock after flowering is good, and it is a pity that growers of the Marechal do not take their courage in one hand, and a sharp knife in the other, and hack the plant right back directly it goes out of flower. It is pure butchery, of course. There is no nicely balanced skill or delicate craftsmanship about it. Any pig-sticker could make a neat job of it. And put in this brutally plain way, the operation really does seem disagreeable. You prune, so to say, by the lineal rod. You bare whole yards of roof. You litter the place with a distressing tangle of stems and leaves. When you have done, you feel as guilty as if you had poked your walking-stick through a picture (more than once I have dreamed that I have done this at Burlington House, and that I have been ejected with ignominy). And you tremble lest your wife should come in before you have sneaked into the rear with the spoil, and surreptitiously burnt it. But look ahead a few weeks (you cannot get your wife to do this, because it is against her principles, and so she had better know nothing about it beforehand), and see the magnificent new canes that almost leap out of the gnarled stumps, as gauze-clad figures leap out of tree trunks and huge shells in the pantomimes. A couple of months, and you have new yards of canes, new breadths of foliage. The golden days of late summer partially brown the shoots, and so you get the condition of maturity which the gardener speaks of as "ripe wood." Abundance of fine flowers follow in the ensuing spring.

Fig. 27. - Pruning Marechal Niel Rose.

a. Old branch to be cut out after flowering.

b. The unripe tips of young branches to be cut off in Spring.