Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-06-02

"do III the year 1888 that the
SemInoles, then in Florida went upon
The warpath, and where this rose now
grows killed in horrible fashion q mother
and her nursing babe, and close by the
rather and husband. When found by hun
ters the mother and child lay in a pool of
blood. A year or two later the hunters who
had found the bodies had happened to be in
that vicinity again, and they found on the
spot of the massacre the curiously beauti-
full rose. They took some of it's roots to
another part of the state, but they would
not grow. and no one has ever been able to
get the strange plant to live out of sight of
the tragedy.
Not unlike the story of the Great
Rose Is that Of the superb Jacqueminot
which takes its name from a tragedy in the
life of Napoleon's fayorite general This
man of uncomfortable passion in a fit of
anger killed the lover of his only child, in
Der presence. few months later she, too
died of broken heart. Close beside where
the lovers were sitting when the general
surprised them grew beautiful blush pink
Louis Quinze rose. The blood of the muir
dered lover REDEEMED the roses as it gushed
from the rapier wound over his heart, and
with his own hands Gen. Jacqueminot cut
the blood despatched bushes to the earth
W men June came again the gardener hap
pened 10 enter that portion OF the grounds
which were Stunned because of the awful
tragedy. and a miracle met his gaze He
hurriedly called his master, and with a
dawning horror in his old eyes the general
~NN HtS-AihiiI5 uenant above the
roots of the once blood soaked tree a tender
shoot crowned with two splendid roses. as
red as the hearts blood that had fortified
them, beautiful as the daughter his passion
ate anger had sent to an untimery grave
end fragrant as the memory of her pure
life. 1T IS the flower of their love- he
mCrmured. and from that day the lovers
cwn rose has been the Jacqueminot.
The MareehaI Neil.
One long time favorite had it's birth in
Italy. the Marechal Neil, and the story they
tell of it has to do with galIantry and, per-
haps, love. Love is of SO many kinds and
of so many degrees that it need not be al
ways the grand passion. you know. This is
such pretty story that one would like to
belieVe it, and it is not so far away from
our own time that myths and legends have
got II mixed with their fables, SO L think
we may accept il as true.
1t was in 1889 that Gen. Neil for distin-
eIIshed services at Magenta was created
nIarechal of France by Napoleon Broken
IN health he sought rest i'm Italy and one
day there came 10 him a basket of roses of
which flower he was very fond He kept
mem ul all were faded but one, and he
found that-a pale yellow marsh rose-had
bit of root which was keeping il alive
he sent the tender shoot back to Paris hop
ing TO propagate the fragrant flower in his
own cline The next season il put up four
splendid buds. double as could be. and pale
yellow with a blush in their hearts Just
as these were bursting into full roses
Marechal Nell was summoned to court to
receive the then highest military decoration
IN the world. the Grand Cross of the Legion
OF Honor. He carried with him one of his
precious roses, and when the Empress Eu-
genie. then in the height of her beauty and
power. extended to him the whitest hand In
the world to kiss, he touched Ii with his Inns
laid in the pink palm the perfect rose. and
ted her its history. The empress greatly
this, the handsomest and bravest or
all the marechals France ever had, and
was not a whit behind him in flattery.
Romantic Incident.
Now. marechai. 1 shall chrfsten this rose
for you,' she said, as she flashed upon him
a look such as mary men have died to win
from the women they loved. Monsieur lie
Marechal bowed low before her. and. touch
ing the rose with her lips, she said, 1T is
named the Marechal Neil. for the soldier
sans penr ct sans reproach, as gallant in the
salon as he is brave on the field of battle"
Emboidened by the half-veiled tenderness
ne said eagerly. You will wear it tonight
your majesty, will you not and afterwa rd
give 1t to me to keep. this happy rose?'
His Irish galiantry had overstepped the
bounds, and the empress. blushing beneath
the pleading CLEAN of his eyes, said haurht
lily. Monsieur Marechal"'
I pray your forgiveness" he crayed in
stantly. Il presumed. and you are angry. :"
NO. no. am not as angry as 1 ought to
be; out-but people might hear" and still
holding the precious rose, she turned to
give audience TO the other guests crowding
her salon. A few days later Neil's chief-of-
staff. Lewal, who afterward became minis
ter OF war of the French republic. saw the
marechal take from a newly-opened en-
veloPe faded yellow rose, whose fragrance
was sweet, even in DEATH He brushed II
lightly with his lips-had 1t not been so
touched by the lips of his sovereign ?-and
then he locked 1t away from the eyes of the
curious. That rosebud had been christened
and kissed by an empress, and for one long
evening had rested above her heart-"this
happy rosei'
They are all so sweet. the roses. that one
does not wonder that they are made the
servants of sentiment. from the time the
tiny wave of life starts till 1t breaks at last
on the shores of death. We send roses and
congratulations. roses and coincidence roses
and sympathy, roses and regrets We Law
white roses beside the new born babe. and
when the little hands. like rose leaves
dropped from the rose lie STILL" we pillow
the tiny head on thCrnless white buds The
same white roses fill the hands OF the bride
and Mermets. Marechal Neil and La France
burden the arms of the bridesmaids The
banquet board giows under it's weight of
multi-colored roses, they fill the cathedral
with incense. like odors for the christen-
ing, and they fttfngly mark, from loving
hands. the flight of years. The June rose
daughter of the Congressman will find on
the white card hidden in her Jacqueminots
a bit of verse, original and not unmusical:
Eighteen years of shine and shadow.
Since the early light of morn
Made the sweet June roses redder
In the hour that You were born.
''You have filled our lives with fragrance.
Bud most precious. daughter sweet:
And the fairest of earth's flowers,
See your sisters at your feet
Then. There's rosemary, that's for re-
and the faint, sweet fragrance
of the rose, more often than that of any
flower, comes up to US from the treasure
boxes OF the vanished years:
when love was sweet in the lives we led
As the leaven that lives In the latter
spring
To grow in the flowers. the books that we
read,
The romp and rush of the grapevine
swing.
In words and work, to be filed and fed
On brooks of honey and wasted bread
And sung IN the songs that we used to
sing.
Though the red and white roses have lost
their leaves
In the ashes of summers long ago.
They come. through the mellow and mar
velOus ewes,
with the harvest Of love that we used to
sew, ~
As rich as garlands the sunset weaves
men tired reapers, with fragrant sbeaves
come out of the corn when the sun is low d,
q