This rose is mentioned in "Harlequin House" by Margery Sharp, published in 1939:

Mr. Partridge strolled across the grass and approached one of the star-shaped parterres. From its margin sprouted three notice boards. Two were municipal, bearing the injunctions "Please do not pick," "Please keep off the beds"; on the third, donated by the Dormouth Bay Rose-Growers Association, it said, "A rose any other name would smell as sweet. Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II, l. 43. D.B.R.-G.A." Mr. Partridge read all three, took out his penknife, and stepped between the bushes to cut a button-hole. In the centre of the bed he paused indeed, but it was a memory, not conscience, that suspended his hand on Scarlet Glory. He had just remembered that it was the tenth anniversary of his wife's death Regretfully but firmly Mr. Partridge spared the bud and selected a white Frau Karl Druschki instead.

There is a striking photo of the The People in Bertram Park's "The World of the Rose".

Redwood Empire is beginning to behave like a climber for me. It's a little hard to see in this photo, but it's now about six feet tall grow alongside a Begonia luxurians.

This rose is mentioned in "Death of His Uncle" (1939) by CHB Kitchin:

"I confess that when I met Cousin Bill, I found him as uninteresting as the dinner, which, by the way, was eatable, but little more. I can’t remember his saying anything at all, except once, when the conversation came round to roses. Then he described, in a dull, deep voice, how his father—also a nursery gardener, I gathered—had tried to produce a really good white rose, with the pure white of Frau Karl Druschki, the perfect form of, say, Mabel Morse, and the vigorous but neat habit of Shot Silk. He went through the newer white roses one by one, pointing out the faults in each of them. His chief complaint was that most of them weren’t really white. And the few that were really white had other defects. It was a not uninteresting lecture, but Uncle Hamilton, who, perhaps, had heard the story before, listened impatiently, and finally cut Cousin Bill short by saying: ‘Well, I bet it cost your father a lot of money. And he didn’t produce anything to beat Clarice Goodacre. You stick to the commercial side of your business, and leave the fancy stuff alone. Now what about some coffee outside, before we start bridge?’"