'Dorothy Perkins,' A Landscape Fixture

When late spring comes around, it is rose season-- and my eyes are peeled for those distinctive leaves and rounded flowers, anticipating the discovery of another lovely plant. One encounters some more frequently than others-- some ad nauseam-- but the wichurana rambler 'Dorothy Perkins' is one I never tire of. In Tennessee, I've seen it scrambling along roadsides, through fencerow thickets, and against derelict outbuildings. Sometimes it's unexpected appearances are rather puzzling-- a testament to its resilience and popularity with gardeners of the not-too-distant past.

Introduced in 1901, 'Dorothy Perkins' is a cross between R. wichurana and a hybrid perpetual (HMF). In my estimation, it is exactly what one would look for in that cross: the vigor of wichurana is slightly reined in, and instead of the small white flowers of the species, we enjoy larger, double pink ones. No scent-- but you can't please everyone.

'Dorothy Perkins,' growing in a Middle Tennessee fencerow.

R. wichurana 'Poteriifolia'-- this is a relatively dwarf form of wichurana, but as you can see that hasn't stopped it from staking out a substantial claim at the Atlanta Botanical Garden.

Rosa wichurana. All photos with the HMF copyright notice in the corner are my own.

The namesake Dorothy was the granddaughter Mr. Perkins, the founder of noted rose-growing firm Jackson and Perkins (Botanica's Roses). 'Dorothy' is charming, with exuberant small clusters of blooms appearing once per season in a magnificent flush. But there's no perfect rose, and 'Dorothy Perkins' has its foibles; foremost is a tendency to display powdery mildew on the buds and growing tips (you can see some mildew-whitened buds in the above picture). Many of my sitings of this variety had a spot of mildew; although this does nothing to hamper the long-term health of the plant, it can disfigure some of the leaves in severe cases. 

Being a child of R. wichurana, 'Dorothy Perkins' has domineering tendencies. Wichurana itself cannot suppress its imperial ambitions and will conquer as much space as is allowed to it, arching its canes over the ground and rooting at regular intervals. Although 'Dorothy' will sometimes be found growing this way, it makes fewer, stronger canes, and can be used as a true climber-- unlike wichurana, which is content to be a wiry creeper.

I get most of my pleasure out of this variety by remembering its associations with rural TN communities, where it grows in a semi-naturalized state wherever it was once planted, even if the original gardener is long gone. It is one of the foremost classic "passalong plants:" it's easy to root, untroubled by disease, and will grow with a minimum of human care. Instead of begin known to its growers as 'Dorothy Perkins,' it was likely propagated and exchanged informally under such names as "the hedgerow rose."

You can buy 'Dorothy Perkins' at a specialty nursery-- but hopefully you won't have to. Look around in late spring for one of these plants blooming by the roadside, and try a few cuttings (of course, complying with "rose rustling" etiquette). 

And now, as to the once-blooming nature of 'Dorothy Perkins': repeat-blooming roses are great, but it is also fitting to enjoy older varieties that bloom but once per season. Graham Stuart Thomas (I think) said it best, by inquiring of readers if such garden staples as forsythia, flowering cherry, etc. are spurned simply because they bloom once, in their respective season. Additionally, there's that schmaltzy metaphysical argument that goes thus: certain roses' habit of flowering once forces us to treasure and appreciate their blooms all the more. 

'Dorothy Perkins' is a breath of fresh air, bringing to gardens and waysides a seasonal burst of ephemeral beauty; what a contrast to the garish and synthetic ornaments modern life bombards us with.