There is nothing new about roses having multiple names.
It all started centuries ago when names were not that important. "Tall red rose," "white rambling rose" were not uncommon on early lists. Many experts have pored over these lists, trying to attach "correct" names to individual entries.
Dr. Wernt Grimm and his wife Hedi discovered the rose paintings of Salomon Pinhas (1759-1837) in a castle in Kassel, Germany, which were labeled in such a manner. By lengthy research they were able to identify most.
Pinhas' more famous contemporary Redoute has become a prime source for the name and appearance of old roses – even though some still remain mysteries.

The rose that comes to mind with the most names is normally called 'Fortune's Double Yellow', a beautiful climber or bush. It has been known as 'Beauty of Glazenwood', 'Gold of Ophir', 'San Rafael Rose', and Rosa x odorata pseudindica.

Although the American Rose Society is the official international registrar of roses, it would be impossible for them to control what nurseries, societies, writers, or individuals call their roses.

However, there comes a time when evidence appears that indicates that the true name of the rose can be established. In this case it is a hybrid of R. gigantea, the world's tallest rose. As I have grown this hybrid for over twenty years, I feel I must change its label.

'Follette' , aka 'La Follette', 'Senateur Follette', 'Senateur Lafollete', and variations on all those, grows much like its parent – rampantly. As I write this, there must be well over 100 big, open blossoms in my garden with many buds as well. As you can see from photographs, it starts with one of the most beautiful buds – long, elegant, pointed with red showing between the sepals. The next day, as it unfolds slowly, the center is light pink (the red has disappeared) with the back of the petals a rose pink. The third or fourth day the outer petals are reflexing and the rest are relaxing in all directions. Just before the petals drop, only the word "blowsy' fits.

There is a faint tea perfume. I drink a lot of tea, and there is no doubt to my nose that this is a tea fragrance. The leaves are exactly like R.gigantea: light green, somewhat narrow and pointed, bigger on the older canes. There are small prickles.There is an excellent, large photograph of the blooms in Gwen Fagan's book Roses at the Cape of Good Hope.

At the other end of the garden, climbing 20 feet up a coastal oak, is 'Belle of Portugal', a close relative of 'Follette', as can be easily seen. M. Henri Cayeux at the Lisbon Botanical Garden produced it when he crossed R. gigantea with a climbing Tea, 'Reine Marie-Henriette' This has been a popular rose in California for nearly a hundred years. Easy to grow, its color is lighter in all stages of its blooming. It keeps its petals forever, so it is best to grow it away from close view.

We do not know what the cross for 'Follette' was. Busby (no first name is recorded), the head gardener at Chateau Eleonore, a beautiful chateau on the French Riviera, kept it to himself. When asked what it was, he merely smiled.

 

In all of the early documents, 'Follette' appears with the single name. In the 1925 March-April issue of the journal Les Amis des Roses an article on the Chateau Eleonore, 'Follette' is mentioned several times, once in a description of a terrace 'en arceaux de l'espece Gigantea "Follette' et 'Eleonore". We know from correspondence of Captain George Warre, who lived on the Riviera, that he obtained the rose from Busby. I have been unable to find any earlier printed reference. The rose was not yet in commerce anywhere at this time.

In the 1932 May-June issue of Les amis des Roses Jean Muraour, the author, lists the roses created by Busby: Follette, rose eglantine. Eleonore, blanc rose. Kobe, chair clair.

In the 1933 May-April issue of Les Amis des Roses, in a description of the three roses listed above, the names are still single.

There is no evidence anywhere that the rose was named for the Wisconsin senator, Robert LaFollette (1855-1925), though he was alive at the time of the rose's appearance. He did not travel to the Riviera, and he opposed President Wilson's request to declare war against Germany in WWI. That would be a vote against the French, who were part of the Allies. One would hardly name a rose for a man who voted that way.

There is another gigantea hybrid that I have grown, 'Senateur Amic', originating at the nursery of the Nabonnand sons in 1924. Unable to track down the senator, I often wonder if the first name slipped off that label and joined 'Follette'?

Back to 'Follette'. What does the name mean? The French dictionaries offer two possibilities: 'scatterbrained' and 'the wanton one'. We are such romantics when it comes to roses, I hold with the latter suggestion.