Austen Nurseries

Posted on Tuesday, 21 March 2006

Miss E. Bennet walked into Austen Nurseries, looking for that ideal rose for her garden. The owner, a Ms. J. Austen, came up to her as she was perusing the stock, and smiled brightly.

"I love pointing customers out to particular roses. May I describe a few to you?"

"Oh, I was thinking that one looked nice." Miss E. Bennet said, pointing to the Wickham, which was resplendent in a peachy-pink full bloom. It completely overshadowed the Darcy next to it, which was low on leaves and hadn’t a flower on it. Also, its stems were very thorny – Miss E. Bennet had turned the plant, and gotten cut on it. By contrast, the young Wickham was positively delightful.

"Well, let me warn you – it has some less positive attributes. Now, the Darcy next to it, that’s a fine rose, no matter how it looks now."

"I don’t fancy it, somehow. Its picture is highly appealing, but those thorns! I don’t believe it’ll ever reach the heights of the Wickham." Ms. Austen smiled and shook her head. The day was yet young – perhaps one of the young ladies hunting for a rose today might just listen to her and pick the best rose for her the first time round.

Miss E. Bennet decided to withhold judgment until after her trip to Kent, and drove off. A few minutes later, another car pulled up.

It was two girls, this time – the Misses Dashwood.

"Oh, just look at that Willoughby," cried the youngest, rushing over and flinging herself to her knees in front of the rose. "How picturesque! How delicate! What exquisite veining!"

"Are you sure you wouldn’t like the Brandon?" Ms. Austen inquired pointing out an older rose, strongly built and scarred from many years of pruning.

"Nay! It is aged and unworthy – just look at that scarring! I suppose it will die shortly, and who would buy dull old age when youth and beauty is there?" She carted the Willoughby off to the checkout counter, where a short, giggly clerk checked her out, flirting with the loader the while.

"Lydia! Hurry up!" Cried Ms. Austen, impatient with the girl. Truly, she was the most annoying clerk yet. She was working for a week to earn a Wickham – poor taste, but what could you expect? The elder Miss Dashwood took her time.

"I’d like the E. Ferrars, please." She said quietly. At last wise choices from a customer! Sadly, a Miss Steele had already spoken for the E. Ferrars.

"Hmm. I am afraid we only have one of those left in stock, and it is spoken for. Perhaps you could return in a month or two, after the next shipment?"

"It just looks so one of a kind… Perfect. Are you sure the person buying it could not be persuaded to wait for a different plant?"

"I daresay that if one that promised better came along, she’d snap it up in a heartbeat. None of these seemed right for her, but she may yet change her mind. She’s spoken for the E. Ferrars for three years now, and hasn’t taken it home and planted it yet. We’re charging room and board at this point." Ms. Austen said tiredly. Miss Steele was getting on her nerves.

"Well, I suppose I’ll simply have to wait and see. Thanks anyway." She wandered off, looking forlorn. Ms. Austen felt sorry for her. Some girls got so heartbroken when the right rose was unavailable, and the rest – well, they had the worst time choosing the correct one.

A Miss Price came in next, but a Miss Crawford snapped up the rose she wanted under her very eyes. Miss Price left, after considering the H. Crawford. It just didn’t seem quite right to her. Miss Elliot arrived soon after, accompanied by a Lady Russell.

"Would you like to see the roses, miss?" Inquired Ms. Austen. Of course, she already knew the answer.

"Yes, please."

"Well, here’s the Wentworth. It’s a Bingley grafted onto a Knightley rootstock – a bit… ah, lighthearted… on top, but hardy and deeply rooted. I suspect you’ll find it has a lot of surprises up its sleeve – a good rose, but not one for the beginning gardener."

"I am a beginner, but I’ll give it a try."

Just as she was about to pick it up, Lady Russell stopped her.

"My dear Anne, you must see that this rose is entirely unsuitable for a young woman in your position. It has fine prospects, to be sure, but are you positive you should commit so soon?"

"But if I don’t take him now, he might be gone later!" Cried Miss Elliot determinedly.

"Dear, I have been as a mother to you since yours died. Listen to my judgment now, please. All I want is the best for you."

Miss Elliot dejectedly agreed, and walked away without a rose.

She’ll be sad about this later, and I agree with her – the Wentworths don’t stay in stock long. Ms. Austen thought.

Just as Ms. Austen was about to close shop, three more young ladies wandered in.

Miss Woodhouse went home with no rose, after deeply considering the Churchill. She found it a little too flighty for her tastes, and no matter how hard Ms. Austen tried, could not be steered in the direction of the Knightley. Obviously, this one would take some work. Miss Woodhouse seemed to be one of those girls who would only recognize her ideal rose after it seemed like it was out of her reach.

Miss Morland lit on the Tilney right away, but was discouraged by the prickles of the General and some foppish little rose that Ms. Austen forgot the name of – a close relative of the cheap Isabella.

Miss Bennet lit on the Bingley, but vacillated a while before declaring her feelings to Ms. Austen, who smiled.

"Well, take him home then!"

One more girl wandered in as Miss Bennet wandered out with her Bingley.

"Um. I’m Harriet Smith." Ms. Austen pinned her right from the start. The Martin was perfect for her, but she was drawn in turn to the Elton (bad choice, that – grows more thorns and less blossoms as it gets older) and the Knightley. However, if she was thinking about the Knightley and Miss Woodhouse heard about it, Miss Woodhouse might decide to snap it up before Miss Smith could, which would leave the Elton for some person whom deserved it.

A few months later, Miss Bennet returned.

"I have just returned from my trip into Kent, and I am astonished! When I think how I have misjudged the Darcy all this time, while favoring the Wickham… Ugh. I saw a Darcy at Rosings Garden, and it was gorgeous. Absolutely incredible. The ideal rose. And then right beside it – a Wickham. The Head Gardener told me that that was the nature of Wickhams, to collapse suddenly and horrifically, to sink into dissolution… And no second season! And the prickles underneath! What a mistake I nearly made. May I have the Darcy now?"

"But of course! As it happens, that young woman over there," Ms. Austen said, indicating the clerk, "wants the Wickham, so that will do nicely."

"That’s my sister! I had best attempt to stop her before she makes the mistake of her life. I wonder if my father, who is a poor gardener but manages to raise brilliant flowers, could dissuade her?" Off she went Darcy in tow, to enlist the aid of her papa.

Miss Steele came in next, and, seeing the R. Ferrars, exclaimed that that was the rose for her and took off lickety-split, just in time for the Misses Dashwood to see the ‘Sold’ tag coming off the E. Ferrars.

"Oh! He’s available! How wonderful, I could never have imagined such felicity! After all these months of suffering!" Obviously the elder Miss Dashwood still wanted the Ferrars.

"Ms. Austen!" Cried the other dramatically. "I have been deceived by the Willoughby! He is not the young, hardy plant I thought he was – he lacks virtue, fidelity, taste – even his blossoms show none of that strength and fortitude I was wont to believe he had by his youth and brilliance! In short, I have uprooted him in disappointment. May I have the Brandon? Please, I beg of you! His age bespeaks solidity, and his beauty – why, I see now that he is the most marvelous of blooming roses!" The Brandon had bloomed since she had last been there, and really was quite impressive.

Some time later, thanking Ms. Austen profusely, the two girls left with their selections.

The Misses Crawford, Price, Hargrove and Elliot came in next with Lady Russell in tow again. Miss Crawford was returning her Edmund.

"We just didn’t suit quite right." She said. Miss Price’s eyes lit up, and before the girl could blink, the Edmund was torn from her arms and rushed off to the checkout.

Good for her! Ms. Austen thought. She was regretting her wishy-washy behavior on the earlier occasion, evidently. Miss Hargrove considered the Wentworth for a while, but in the end chose the Benwick, as Miss Elliot looked on. Evidently Miss Elliot thought her earlier willingness to be swayed made her unable to simply dash in and grab the rose she wanted. Either that or Lady Russell’s attempt to push the Heir William on her made it difficult to move. In any case, she managed to evade the lady and grab her Wentworth at long last.

Miss Woodhouse, Bennet, Morland and Smith came in a crowd. It was quite a busy day! And so successful! It seemed that all the girls were getting their perfect rose today. Though it’s not that they would’ve believed me if I told them last visit, the proprietress smiled to herself.

Miss Smith had her eye on the Knightley, but Miss Woodhouse felt she had prior claims and laid hands on it first, leaving Miss Smith the Martin, since the Elton had been purchased by an unpleasant young woman from Bath a few weeks ago. Miss Bennet, a tall, blond creature, walked up to Ms. Austen and said,

"Thank you for encouraging me in my choice! We had a strange frost a few days after I bought him, and a Darcy rose attempted to smother him. He looked quite dead, but I didn’t give up hope and look at him now!" She brought out a sketch of a thriving rose.

"Wonderful! I am so glad for you!" Hearing that, Miss Bennet grinned, waved and walked purposefully out of the nursery, no doubt to attend to her Bingley.

The Tilney seemed to have shoved the General and the brother of that cheap Isabella out of the way, no doubt an amusing grouping by one of the staff. Miss Morland, undaunted by thorns, dashed up and plucked her Tilney from the selection, and whisked him off to the checkout.

Smiling, Ms. Austen entered the transactions in her records, and once again thought what good novels some of these plants and buyers would make. In truth it seemed that roses were very much like men… With a little fleshing out, the story of a few months of in the gardening world would be a bestseller.

Darcy = highly prickly, deep roots and a gorgeous, many-petaled, sweetly scented, deep red blossom.

Knightley = some prickles –to make life interesting – large habit, deep roots, very hardy, heavy bloomer, beautiful complex highly scented blossoms. Pale pink.

Bingley = prickle-less, sweetly scented, showy, heavy bloomer, large habit, simple blossoms, climber, hardy but slow to start and easily set back by frost. Hot pink.

Wickham = showy blossoms, heavy, early bloomer, no second season, VERY prickly underneath, prone to sudden death for many reasons, including Japanese beetles and core rot. Peach-gold-pink-cream.

Willoughby = very fragile, requires extremely tender care and ideal conditions to come into full growth, prone to blight, light bloomer, delicate blossoms, shows promise early on but devolves later. Yellow.

Martin = a few prickles, hardy to a fault, grows exceedingly large, simple, scentless blossoms. Bright red.

Crawford = showy blossoms, light early bloomer, no second season, VERY prickly underneath, prone to leaf blight. Orange-red.

Brandon = wide growth, is tolerant of many conditions including shade, hardy and disease resistant, large, complex, highly scented flowers, deep root growth. Dark pink.

Churchill = small growth, pleasant light scent, thorns may be very sharp, grows too fast in Spring occasionally and must be pruned because of potential frost, medium blossom. Lemon yellow.

E. Ferrars = Nicely scented, the E. Ferrars has a wide growth, is tolerant of many conditions including shade and is quite hardy and disease resistant. Smallish blossoms, not particularly complex. Deep root growth. Medium pink.

R. Ferrars = A close relative of the E. Ferrars, the R. variant is a little more finicky, and has larger, simpler blossoms but no scent. Shallow root growth and small habit. White.

Edmund = requires extremely tender care and ideal conditions to come into full growth, prone to blight, medium bloomer, small, delicate blossoms, shows promise and eventually fulfills it. Peach.

Tilney = sturdy, easily introduced into soil, thrives instantly. Hard to uproot. Nicely scented, not too many thorns, small to medium blossoms. Prone to beetles. White with gold flush in petal cup.

Wentworth = A Bingley grafted onto a Knightley rootstock – early on, the graft can die due to unsuitable conditions, but some years later the rootstock comes into its full growth