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'Anna Hilzer' rose Reviews & Comments
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See Möllers Deutsche Gärtner-Zeitung, vol. 8, 1893, p. 270, about "Die Neue Rose Fräulein Anna Hilzer und ihre Taufe."
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#1 of 3 posted
27 FEB by
jedmar
Reference and translation added, thank you! According to this, 'Anna Hilzer' would be a sport of 'Grossherzogin Mathilde'. On the other hand, we have a reference from 1898, which informs that 'Grossherzogin Mathilde' has sported back to a pink rose and that Bougère = Anna Hilzer could be its parent.
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A suggestion: I think in this case "Treiben" should perhaps be translated as "forcing" (rather than "activities"); "forcing" makes sense in the context of the sentence/general meaning (that the coloration is more delicate when being forced than when it is grown outside).
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#3 of 3 posted
27 FEB by
jedmar
Certainly, Google translate is not so much into rosarian language. Corrected.
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This is listed under Lord Tarquin but may be relevant here
The Book of the Rose (1910) Page(s) 306. 1910 Reverend A. Foster-Melliar “The Book of the Rose” 4th edition . Niphetos (Bougère, 1844) This rose is a good instance of what is termed “free” growth, i.e. neither long nor stout, but branching and generally growing somewhere. The foliage is good and not much liable to mildew, but the blooms will not stand rain. This old Rose has attained a very great reputation for its free-flowering qualities and its purity of colour. I do not know how many thousand feet run of glasshouses have been maintained for the purpose of growing the Rose which Mons. Bougère, the raiser, appropriately named Niphetos (“snowy”), but I apprehend the figures would very much have astonished him could he have known them when he issued it, and he would perhaps have wished to attach his own name to it instead of to the much less valuable production (Bougère, known in Australia and elsewhere as Lord Tarquin) of twelve years before
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The Cottage Gardener - 1852, p. 99 Donald Beaton "Bougere is the hardiest of them all [Tea-scented China Roses], and as good as any against a wall. On a dry sultry morning, it is as sweet as a fresh opened tea-caddy, but it must have a wall to support its immense blooms; the colour I cannot tell, and I never yet saw it rightly described in any book or catalogue; pale rosy bronze they call it, but, like the countryman, they might as well say that its huge blossoms were as big as a piece of chalk."
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