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Scents, Various

By EDITH F. M. DRAKE
Reproduced from the 1960 Yearbook
Now that the layering is finished, most of the plants well rooted and. moved into their Winter quarters, the beds made up and ready for whatever the Autumn weather and the snow and frost may do, there is time to sit down and ‘’ talk of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing-wax and cabbages and things,’’ also of a subject that is of interest—or one might say concern—to many growers and nearly all lovers of flowers; it is the loss.’ of scent in so many of our old and tried favourites.
Although the Carnation and Pink families are not so affected as many other flowers by this failing, we should all like to know why and how so many beautiful plants and flowers are losing their perfume, and what, if anything, can be done about it.
Generally speaking, the greenhouse varieties of Carnations are still very fragrant and a good many of the hardy bedding varieties, although scented, have not got the strong clove scent that used to fill the air or the room in which they were, and to cause one to dream of the Spice Islands and scents of Araby and all that kind of thing, and yet not expose one to any of the drawbacks and discomforts that would most likely have to be put up with in reality.
Is this loss of scent caused by the atmosphere and engendered by smoke and the polution of chemicals, or is it the result of intense in-breeding (as in animals) to get a more perfect shape if possible, or more beautiful colouring ? This is doubtful, for most of the moderns seem to have all the required statistics, except one or two that are rather shy and hang their pretty heads (a rare thing these days).
The Carnation has certainly been grown in England for hundreds of years in one way or another, petted and made much of, then forgotten and deemed out of fashion, then ” found ” as they call it, and made much of, but never more beautiful than today.
The Knights of St. John and the Knights of Malta first brought it back with them when they returned from the East and the Holy Land during the years of the Crusades, as they did other plants or seeds. Two plants that are still grown are the Damask Rose and the pale blue or mauve Iris which, I believe, still flourishes in Jerusalem. The Gilliflower of the Elizabethan era, was famed for its spicy odour, the name ” Gilliflower ” being used then to cover both the Carnation and the Pink, though I have read somewhere that after Elizabeth I it was beginning to be known as the Coronation. It may be so, as she is reputed to have liked it.
The almost wild variety of Carnation that grows in the South of France and in Italy is akin to the fragrant Malmaison, beloved by Empress Josephine. It is one of the parents of the modern greenhouse varieties. The expression ” a parent ” is rather misleading, for it has taken many generations to reach the perfection of today.
There is something about Carnations that inspires devotion, one might almost say worship in some people. I am sure one friend of mine used to be lost in some world of his own by the time he had finished looking at and browsing over the exhibits at a big show. Anyway, once you are caught it is for life, and every other flower is only an also-ran !
In these days of the revival of the say-it-with-flowers greetings, there should be an extra call on Carnations, for there are few flowers that pack and travel so well, or look so perfectly fit at the end of a journey. Their grace and beauty must always ensure a hearty welcome in their own right and they certainly adorn any room, large or small.
I seem to have wandered a very long way from the subject I began with, viz., the loss of scent in so many of our favourite flowers. The old-fashioned Musk heads the list, for one can only read about it now. But I believe this plant, which once grew almost wild in many parts of the world, suddenly became scentless everywhere, and no-one had any idea why. Sweet Peas seem to be in danger of going the same way. A few years ago when they had not such a perfection of form that they have today, a clump of them in the garden would scent the air, and a vase full in a room was a pure joy. Now one may go to a big show and not know what there is in the hall, though they may run into hundreds in all their airy beauty. Such a pity !
The Rose seemed destined to go the same way a few years back, but the big growers were wise enough to realise that form was not everything, and they are quickly getting back the scent in many of the new ones. The old cottage favourite, the Sweet William, is not so sweet, nor the Wallflower or Mignonette, which is now a giant, but dumb !
None of this must be allowed to happen to the Carnations or Pinks of the coming generation. Pinks themselves have quite an individual scent,a hint of cedar-wood and nutmeg being noticeable in many of them. Shaggy old Mrs. Sinkins still leads them all, in spite of a split calyx and an untidy habit of growth, and there used to be another strongly-scented mauve, one with dark red markings that was nearly as untidy. These were about all one used to see in the ordinary way before old Mr. Herbert and Mr. Allwood and one or two others gave, us the wonderful selection we have today. There was one that took my fancy a good many years ago—Mr. Allwood’s Susan. We grew it for a long time ; it made a beautiful bed at the foot of the rockery and flourished until it went the way of so many things twenty years ago. Miss Wells grew many other varieties, most successfully, but I still remained true to Susan. These plants are among the most useful in the garden, no matter what size, for they have beauty of colour, form and fragrance.
Going round a show once with a friend, he passed the remark on some scentless flower, ‘’ Well, to me, a flower without scent is like an egg without salt, or a woman without a smile!”
Naturally there are the usual for-and-against arguments regarding a strongly scented flower. What is beautiful and pleasing to one person is an anathema to another. My pet aversion is a Gardenia. Bad taste on my part very likely, but I would much rather have a bunch of Violets out of a hedge or a few Cowslips! It would never do for us all to think alike.