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“What is your favourite rose,” people ask. “Today…” I begin. They are, of course, all favourites or I wouldn’t keep them, but some I await more eagerly than others: ‘Alain Blanchard’ for its dapple of deep purple and crimson; ‘La Ville de Bruxelles’ for the precision with which its pink petals overlay each other; ‘Ispahan’ for its scent and wealth of bloom; ‘Sombreuil’ for its rich tea fragrance. Among the ramblers, there’s ‘Goldfinch’, one of the few yellows among these old varieties, ‘Veilchenblau’ with clusters of violet-blue flowers and a scent of green apples, thorny ’Albertine with large dishevelled blooms of coppery pink, and ’Francis E. Lester’ whose delicate pink and white flowers float above its foliage. Graceful ‘Félicité Perpétue’ magically produces pure-white rosettes from hot-pink buds, while its sister rose, ’Adelaide d’Orleans’, trails delicate garlands of soft-pink buds and fragrant, milk-white flowers. In bloom, massive Rosa mulliganii is a feast for both eyes and nose, and another vigorous species, Rosa brunonii has the most beautiful foliage—twilight colours of sage and plum—to complement its small, slightly crumpled white flowers, whose petals have a satin sheen as if touched by moonlight. My favourite small rambler, ‘Ghislaine de Féligonde’ climbs a mere 3.5 m (12 ft.) over the terrace to mingle with a purple grapevine. Though lacking scent, it has fresh, fern-like foliage and effervescent clusters of flowers aging from egg-yolk orange through peach to cream. It is the only rambler I know to flower continuously and is often bravely sporting frosted buds in November. —Christine Allen
