ROSA MUNDI
All winter I have been having a crisis of conscience about the enormous stand of miscanthus grass that presides over an area on the south side of my house. Now, just as the light has returned to the landscape after winter’s darkness, I have seen the future of the miscanthus, and it lies in a different part of the garden. As I have said before, the miscanthus is a beautiful specimen, thriving in the sunny spot created when we cut down an ailing maple tree several years ago. It would be a sin to destroy it, but its space was made for roses and roses are my first love. The miscanthus will go in the area in front of my living room window and roses will go where the miscanthus used to be.
The space has room for two or three bushes. I have already chosen one of them, and it was because of that rose that I decided it was time for my personal miscanthus relocation program. The plant is known officially as Rosa gallica versicolor. Over the years its friends and admirers have called it by many names, but the one that has stuck is Rosa mundi. Lovers of Latin know that this means “rose of the world”.
Rosa mundi is part of a group of roses classified by rosarians as Gallicas. Despite the French name, these plants originated in southern and central Europe and Turkey. Renowned for both beauty and fragrance, they have been in cultivation since at least Roman times. One variety, Rosa gallica officinalis, is also known as the “apothecary’s rose” because it has been used for centuries in medicine and perfume. The Gallica roses range in color from palest pink to dark, red-purple and often produce spontaneous genetic mutations or “sports” with striped petals. Rosa mundi is one of those sports, with semi-double flowers composed of pale pink petals striped with darker rose. Like other Gallicas, Rosa mundi is comparatively short, growing to only three or four-feet tall. It also has the advantage of relatively few prickles. The compact stature and prickle-free nature should make Rosa gallica in general and Rosa gallica versicolor in particular perfect for modern gardens, except for one thing–Gallicas only bloom once a year. These days, most gardeners, even rose lovers, want repeat blooms, no matter how beautiful the older varieties may be. Still, I am so besotted by Rosa mundi that I will accept the fact that the striped roses will be a short-lived pleasure.
People who love roses tend to be sentimental, and sometimes it seems as if about ninety percent of all roses are permanently tethered to romantic tales. In fact the absence of a romantic story is probably part of the reason why I find the indestructible and insanely popular Knockout roses so prosaic. However, if they stay around long enough, I am sure that even the Knockouts will get their own legends. The legend surrounding Rosa mundi is a great one, featuring an all-star cast of historical celebrities–King Henry II of England, his amazing wife, Eleanor of Acquitaine, and his beautiful mistress, Rosamunde Clifford.
Henry II (1133-1189) was noted for his intelligence, intransigence and difficulties in family relations. His marriage to the equally intelligent Eleanor of Acquitaine was tempestuous and, after she and her sons conspired against him, he had her placed under house arrest for fifteen years. Anyone who has seen the play or movie The Lion in Winter by James Goldman, has seen a version of this part of Henry’s life. Presumably Henry found some solace with his best known mistress, Rosamunde Clifford, daughter of one of Henry’s nobles. Rosamunde, known for her beauty, may have been poisoned by the vengeful Eleanor. She may also have died of disease. Whatever the cause of her death, some legends say that the striped sport of Rosa gallica officinalis was named for her. Over time the name “Rosamunde” became corrupted to “Rosa mundi”.
While I probably would have rooted for Queen Eleanor in the Henry/Eleanor/Rosamond triangle, I am rooting for the fragrant Rosa mundi in my garden.
When my daughter was little, she developed an affection for striped roses. As the result, we already have ‘Scentimental’, a modern reblooming striped variety. Now I am thinking of making the miscanthus area into a garden of stripes. In addition to Rosa mundi, I will install a more modern striped rose, Variegata di Bologna, which was introduced by the Italian breeder Bonfiglioli in 1909. ‘Variegata di Bologna’ features a cream background and stripes that are nearly purple. Unlike Rosa mundi, it reblooms. I may also install ‘Camaieux’, another Gallica, which has purplish stripes on a pale pink background. Like Rosa mundi, ‘Camaieux’ is known for its fragrance. I would love to underplant my striped beauties with lavender, but since the soil in that part of the garden is rather heavy, I may have to substitute catmint, which is less finicky about drainage.
Though the intellectual part of the miscanthus crisis is now over, I will be moving on to the physical portion in the next few weeks. Miscanthus grass is as tenacious as Eleanor of Acquitaine. I may gain some sympathy for Henry II when I try to get rid of it.
You can purchase Rosa mundi, ‘Variegata di Bologna’ and ‘Scentimental’ from Heirloom Roses, 24062 Riverside Drive NE, St. Paul, Oregon 97137; (800) 820-0465; www.heirloomroses.com. Catalog $5.00. Camaieux is available from Rogue Valley Roses; (541) 535-1307; www.roguevalleyroses.com.