Here's what Brent Dickerson says: "It was, at some time evidently roughly around the year 1800 or 1810, the custom of the inhabitants of the Indian Ocean island of Reunion, then called the Ile Bourbon, to mark off their land with hedges comprised of, as Monsieur Breon, a botanist of the time, put it, "one row of the Common China Rose [presumably "Old Blush"--that is, 'Parsons' Pink China'], the other of the Red Four-Seasons [presumably the red 'Tous-les-Mois' Damask Perpetual, which was common then]." One Monsieur Edouard Perichon found, when planting one of these hedges, a plant which appeared to be a hybrid of the two, and which was subsequently called, after him, 'Rose Edouard'. Here is a description of 'Rose Edouard' written in 1828, translated from Prevost fils' French: "This was the first one brought to France, and can be considered the Type of the species. Canes long and divergent, armed with much-hooked thorns, which are glandular at their base. Leaflets oval, large, cordiform at their base. Ovary oboid-oblong, glabrous and glaucous at the tip. Corolla medium-sized, hypocrateriform [i.e., "like an antique cup"], double or lightly double, intense and bright deep pink." Evidently in 1819, Monsieur Breon sent to Antoine Jacques, gardener of the Duc d'Orleans at Neuily, near Paris, seed from 'Rose Edouard'. Five of these seeds sprouted in Spring of 1820, and two of these five "bloomed and rebloomed" in 1821. One of these two seedlings was illustrated by Redoute, who, as was his habit, gave it two names, a scholarly-sounding Latinate one ('Burboniana'), and another in the vernacular ('Rosier de l'Isle de Bourbon' [sic]). Here is how Redoute and his collaborator Thory described it in 1824: "Shrub, tall, vigorous, branched, bushy. Prickles large, hooked, wide, reddish. Leaflets 5 or 7, base rounded, acute at the tip, glabrous on both surfaces, simply dentate, glossy green above, paler beneath; petioles villose, with small sessile glands and tiny prickles; stipules decurrent, acute, denticulate. Flowers sweetly scented, many together at the ends of the laterals; pedicels finely glandulose; bracts elongate, ciliate, glandulose; receptacles ovoid, glabrous; sepals pinnatifid with subsetaceous prickles; petals 3-4 seriate, cordately notched, bright pink. Hips somewhat rounded, ovoid, red. According to the Duc d'Orleans, this rose [meaning by "this rose," confusingly, the *parent* of the rose they illustrate, as close reading will show] grows in waste places on Reunion Island. Seeds brought from there some years ago produced the plants in the Neuilly gardens from which our painting was made. It has a good habit, and the abundance of its blooms, sometimes almost single but mostly semi-double, and their fine color and perfume, make it a worthwhile adornment for landscape gardens." Meantime, Breon also sent, in 1821, cuttings of the original 'Rose Edouard' to the gardener in charge of the hothouses at the Jardin des Plantes in Paris--Monsieur Neumann." Supposedly they did have cuttings in 1821. However, Josephine had sent for the tea rose years previously, though she was dead in 1814. Cafres (it's spelled with one f) translates to"African person taken to Reunion Island to be a slave", according to Wikipedia. I got the impression it may be an insult. So the Plaine des Cafres means Plain of Slaves, maybe? Down the road is the Plaine des Palmistes, or Plain of Palms. It's beautiful. Up the road is the volcano. All the pictures I found show what looks like a cow pasture on a hill running down to a valley. I saw one bush that looks like it had red hips, maybe. Leafless. I found another garden in Hellbourg with defoliated hybrid teas with a couple roses on top. Blackspot? Now, If I had a bunch of slaves working a field, I suppose it could occur to me that edging these fields with thorny roses would keep them in. Of course, Parson's Pink China is thornless, and scentless. Its value is the repeat blooming gene. I couldn't tell from what pictures I found what sort of crops grow there, and its hilly edges looked difficult to hedge. Yep, there's a hole in this story you can drive a truck through. You can find the very interesting botanical articles of Jean Jacques Segalen by typing his name and Reunion Island into Google.

I no longer deadhead live buds in fall to induce dormancy. It didn't work for eight years. Either winter would come late and I'd realize that I'd taken off blooms that would be perfectly good (and the plant would put out more buds to replace the ones I'd flipped off) or winter would come early and the rose would (or wouldn't) respond to the drop in temperatures. Now I watch for botrytis and that's my measure of needing to do something, or not. For the articles, you need access to American Periodicals Service. This is a by subscription only source. Most universities have it and most state funded universities have computers for the public (you and me who are their ultimate funding source.) A memory stick is good for use at such public computers. The NYTimes. Washington Post and Atlanta Journal Constitution also have search functions that are subscription limited. I'd guess Chicago may be on line, but not at my local university. Then there's google scholar, google books and agricola (the latter also being subscription.) You have visited the OGR garden at Lanier House in Madisonville IN? Ann

Three cheers for your grandmother and her adventurous sense of color! May we all be bold rather than discreet in our old age. But perhaps we should skip the cheap cologne. I suspect the half bottle was because many people lose their sense of smell as they age and she honestly thought it didn't have much perfume to it. As for rose scents, I love them as rich and as heavy as can be. I love other intense scents, too, jasmine, lilies, honeysuckle. I will say that I prefer most flowers out of doors. Scented cut flowers in the house sometimes give me intense headaches, honeysuckle especially. Lilies are also too strong indoors. Narcissi actually become unpleasant to me in the house, developing a chemical undertone that reminds me of petrochemicals. Roses, though, are wonderful in the house or in the garden. And the same is true of my absolute favorite flower scent, lilacs. Rosefolly

is the first not simply another name for the Souvenir de Malmaison sport Kronprincessin Viktoria von Preussen?