.
 

 
 WOODLAND GLEANINGS.
 
 " Attractive is the Woodland scene, 
 Diversified with trees of every growth- 
 Alike yet various 
 
 No tree in all the grove hut has its charms."
 
 Groves were planted to console at noon 
 The pensive wanderer in their shades. At eve 
 The moonbeam sliding softly in between 
 The sleeping leaves, is all the light he wants 
 For meditation. 
 
 p. 54.
 
 WOODLAND GLEANINGS. 
 
 WITH SIXTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 VKW UUITION REVISED AND CORRKCTKD. 
 
 LONDON : 
 DEAN & SON, 11, LUDGATE HILL.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 To those who live in the country, or repair to it from 
 our cities and towns for recreation or recruitment of 
 health, we trust this will be an acceptable book, especi- 
 ally if they are unacquainted with Forest-trees. Our 
 aim has been to produce a volume that will convey 
 general and particular information respecting the tim- 
 ber-trees chiefly cultivated in the United Kingdom, to 
 induce further inquiry respecting them, and to impart a 
 new interest to the "Woodland. To effect this we have 
 briefly given their history and description, together with 
 their botanical characters, remarks from our best authors 
 on their habits and ornamental properties, on the usual 
 mode of their cultivation, and on the value or utility of 
 their timber. "We have also introduced accounts of such 
 remarkable trees as we considered of sufficient note to 
 interest the general reader. 
 
 It has been objected that a few species, not recognised 
 as Forest trees, have been included in this work ; such 
 as the Hawthorn, Holly, Mountain Ash, and Wild 
 Cherry. But as these have been likewise admitted into 
 a subsequent work of greater pretensions, the reason 
 
 2091064
 
 VI ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 there given by its author will be here equally sufficient : 
 " That though aware of the secondary rank of these trees 
 in point of dimensions, when compared with the greater 
 denizens of the Forest, he felt that the prominent station 
 they occupy in the ornamental and picturesque depart- 
 ments of our native Sylvia, was sufficient to compensate 
 for this defect, and to entitle them to the situation in 
 which they have been placed." 
 
 That the thirty-two species particularly described 
 may be the more readily identified, and their botanical 
 characters more easily understood, there has been given 
 a well executed wood-cut representation of the usual 
 growth and representation of each tree, and another of 
 the leaves, flowers, and fruit. 
 
 . July 1, 1853.
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 FA6R 
 
 1. ALDER 41 
 
 2. Leaves and Catkins 43 
 
 3. ASH 47 
 
 4. Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit .... 51 
 
 5. BEECH 55 
 
 6. Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit .... 59 
 
 7. BIRCH 63 
 
 8. Leaves and Catkins 65 
 
 9. CEDAR OF LEBANON 69 
 
 10. Foliage, Cone, &c 73 
 
 11. CHESTNUT 77 
 
 12. Leaves, Catkins, &c 79 
 
 13. ELM 82 
 
 14. Leaves and Flowers 85 
 
 15. HAWTHORN 92 
 
 16. Leaves, Blossom, and Fruit .... 95 
 
 17. HAZEL 98 
 
 18. Leaves, Catkins, and Nuts .... 100 
 
 19. HOLLY 103 
 
 20. Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit .... 105 
 
 21. HORNBEAM 109 
 
 22. Leaves, Catkins, and Fruit .... Ill 
 
 23. HORSE-CHESTNUT 114 
 
 24. Leaves, Flowers, &c 117 
 
 25. LARCH 122 
 
 26. Foliage, Catkins, &c 125 
 
 27. LIME, or LINDEN 132 
 
 28. Leaves and Flowers 135 
 
 29. MAPLE 139 
 
 30. Leaves, Flowers, and Seeds .... 141 
 
 31. MOUNTAIN ASH 145 
 
 32. Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit .... 147
 
 Vlll LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PACK 
 
 33. MULBEBBY 152 
 
 34. Leaves and Fruits 155 
 
 35. OAK 158 
 
 36. Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit .... 161 
 
 37. OBIENTAL PLANE 189 
 
 38. Leaves, and Globes of Flowers ... 191 
 
 39. OCCIDENTAL PLANE 196 
 
 40. Leaves and Flowers 199 
 
 41. POPLAB 201 
 
 42. (White) Leaves, Flowers, and Catkins . 203 
 
 43. SCOTCH FIB or PINE 207 
 
 44. Foliage, Catkins, Cones, &c. . . . 209 
 
 45. SiLVEBFm 217 
 
 46. Foliage and Cones 219 
 
 47. SPBUCE FIB 222 
 
 48. Foliage and Cones . ... 225 
 
 49. SYCAMOBE 227 
 
 50. Leaves, Flowers, and Samarse . . . 229 
 
 51. WALNUT 233 
 
 52. Leaves, Catkins, and Nuts .... 235 
 
 53. WEYMOUTH PINE . . . . . . . .239 
 
 54. Foliage, Cones, &c 241 
 
 55. WHITEBEAM 243 
 
 56. Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit .... 245 
 
 57. WILD BLACK CHEBBY 247 
 
 58. Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit .... 249 
 
 59. WILD SEBVICE 253 
 
 60. Leaves and Flowers 255 
 
 61. WILLOW 257 
 
 62. (Crack) Leaves and Catkins of S. fragilis . 263 
 
 63. YEW 269 
 
 64. Foliage, Leaves, and Fruit . . . . 271
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The forest teems 
 
 With forms of majesty and beauty ; some, 
 As the light poplar, wave with every sigh 
 Of zephyr, and some scarcely bend their heads 
 For very mightiness, when wintry storms 
 Are maddening the sea ! 
 
 CARRINGTON. 
 
 DELIGHTFUL Edlington! how we love to saunter up 
 and down the broad and verdant pathway that 
 traverses thy wild domain. There, amid the deep 
 imbosomed thickets, we feel that we are in "the 
 haunts of meditation " we feel that these are, 
 indeed, 
 
 The scenes where ancient bards th' inspiring breath 
 Ecstatic felt ; 
 
 And wish that the kind muses that them inspired 
 would cast their united mantles over us, and aid 
 us to sing the beauties of the woodland. But no 
 friendly spirit deigns to tune our lyre ; we are con- 
 demned to dull prose, and are permitted only 
 here and there to call in some bard of old to aid 
 our feeble efforts. Woodland ! yea, the very name 
 seems to revive recollections of delightful solitude 
 of calm and holy feelings, when the world has 
 been, for the time, completely banished from its
 
 10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 throne the throne of the human heart, which, 
 alas ! it too commonly occupies. 0, how agreeable 
 and pleasant is the woodland, when the trees are 
 half clad with their green attire ! How refreshing 
 is the appearance of the tender leaf-bud, emerging 
 from its sheath, just visible upon the dingy gray 
 branches, those of one tree being generally a little 
 in advance of others ! We have never yet met 
 with that insensate being whose heart is not elated 
 at the sight. And to look, at this time, upon the 
 vast assemblage of giant trees, whose skeleton, 
 character, and figure may now be plainly traced. 
 The dense foliage does not obscure them now, but 
 they are beheld in all their majesty. "If the 
 contrast of gray and mossy branches, "says Howitt, 
 "and of the delicate richness of young leaves 
 gushing out of them in a thousand places be in- 
 expressibly delightful to behold, that of one tree 
 with another is not the less so. One is nearly 
 full clothed ; another is mottled with gray and 
 green, struggling, as it were, which should have 
 the predominance, and another is still perfectly 
 naked. The pines look dim dusky amid the lively 
 hues of spring. The abeles are covered with their 
 clusters of alliescent and powdery leayes and 
 withering catkins ; and beneath them the pale 
 spathes of the arum, fully expanded and display- 
 ing their crimson clubs, presenting a sylvan and 
 unique air." 
 
 In Sweden, the budding and leafing of the 
 birch-tree is considered as a directory for sowing 
 barley ; and as there is something extremely sub-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 lime and harmonious in the idea, we flatter our- 
 selves an account of it here will be acceptable. 
 
 Mr. Harold Barck, in his ingenious dissertation 
 upon the foliation of trees, informs us, that Lin- 
 nseus had, in the most earnest manner, exhorted 
 his countrymen to observe, with all care and 
 diligence, at what time each tree expanded its 
 buds and unfolded its leaves ; imagining, and not 
 without reason, that his country would, some time 
 or other, reap some new and perhaps unexpected 
 benefit from observations of this kind made in 
 ditTerent places. 
 
 As one of the apparent advantages, he advises the 
 prudent husbandman to watch, with the greatest 
 care, the proper time for sowing ; because this, 
 with the Divine assistance, produces plenty of 
 provision, and lays the foundation of the public 
 welfare of the state, and of the private happiness 
 of the people. The ignorant farmer, tenacious of 
 the ways and customs of his ancestors, fixes his 
 sowing season generally to a month, and sometimes 
 to a particular week, without considering whether 
 the earth be in a proper state to receive the seed ; 
 from whence it frequently happens, that what the 
 sower sowed with sweat, the reaper reaps with 
 sorrow. The wise economist should therefore 
 endeavour to fix upon certain signs, whereby to 
 judge of the proper time for sowing. We see trees 
 open their buds and expand their leaves, from 
 whence we conclude that spring approaches, and 
 experience supports us in the conclusion ; but 
 nobody has as yet been able to show us what trees
 
 12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Providence has intended should be our calendar, 
 so that we might know on what day the country- 
 man ought to sow his grain. No one can deny 
 but that the same power which brings forth the 
 leaves of trees, will also make the grain vegetate ; 
 nor can any one assert that a premature sowing 
 will always, and in every place, accelerate a ripe 
 harvest. Perhaps, therefore, we cannot promise 
 ourselves a happy success by any means so likely, 
 as by taking our rule for sowing from the leafing 
 of trees. We must for that end observe in what 
 order every tree puts forth its leaves according to 
 its species, the heat of the atmosphere, and the 
 quality of the soil. Afterwards, by comparing 
 together the observations of the several years, it 
 will not be difficult to determine from the foliation 
 of the trees, if not certainly, at least probably, the 
 time when annual plants ought to be sown. It 
 will be necessary, likewise, to remark what sowings 
 made in different parts of the spring produce the 
 best crops, in order that, by comparing these with 
 the leafing of trees, it may appear which is the 
 most proper time for sowing. 
 
 The temperature of the season, with respect to 
 heat and cold, drought and wet, differing in every 
 year, experiments made one year cannot, with 
 certainty, determine for the following. They may 
 assist, but cannot be conclusive. The hints of 
 Linnseus, however, constitute a universal rule, as 
 trees and shrubs, bud, leaf, and flower, shed their 
 leaves in every country, according to the difference 
 of the seasons.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 13 
 
 Mr. Stillingfleet is the only person that has 
 made correct observations upon the foliation of 
 the trees and shrubs of this kingdom. The fol- 
 lowing is his calendar, which was made in Norfolk, 
 in 1765: 
 
 1 Honeysuckle . 
 2 Gooseberry. . . 
 
 . January 15 
 . . . March 11 
 
 19 Marsh Elder 
 20 Wych Elm 
 
 .April 11 
 12 
 
 3 Currant 
 
 11 
 
 21 Mountain Ash . . 
 22 Hornbeam . . 
 
 . 13 
 13 
 
 4 Elder 
 
 ... 11 
 
 5 Birch 
 
 .. Anril 1 
 
 23 Apple-tree 
 
 14 
 
 6 Weeping Willow . 1 
 
 24 Abele 
 
 16 
 
 25 Chestnut . 
 
 16 
 
 8 Bramble 
 
 .... 3 
 
 26 Willow . 
 
 17 
 
 9 Briar 
 
 .... , 4 
 
 27 Oak 
 
 18 
 
 10 Plum 
 
 , 6 
 
 28 Lime. 
 
 18 
 
 11 Apricot 
 
 .... , 6 
 
 29 Maple 
 
 19 
 
 12 Peach 
 
 6 
 
 30 Walnut 
 
 , 21 
 
 13 Filbert 
 
 , 7 
 
 31 Plane 
 
 , 21 
 
 14 Sallow 
 
 , 7 
 
 32 Black Poplar... 
 33 Beech 
 
 . 21 
 i 21 
 
 15 Alder 
 
 , 7 
 
 16 Sycamore .... 
 
 .... , 9 
 
 34 Acacia Robinia . 
 35 Ash 
 
 21 
 . 22 
 
 17 Elm 
 
 10 
 
 18 Quince . . . 
 
 10 
 
 36 Carolina Poplar 
 
 , 22 
 
 In different years, and in different soils and ex- 
 positions, these trees and shrubs vary as to their 
 leafing ; but they are invariable as to their suc- 
 cession, being bound down to it by nature herself. 
 A farmer, therefore, who would use this sublime 
 idea of Linnseus, should diligently mark the time 
 of budding, leafing, and flowering of different 
 plants. He should also put down the days on 
 which his respective grains were sown ; and, by 
 comparing these two tables for a number of years, 
 he will be enabled to form an exact calendar for 
 his spring corn. An attention to the discolouring
 
 14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and falling of the leaves of plants, will assist him 
 in sowing his winter grain, and teach him how to 
 guess at the approach of winter. Towards the 
 end of September, which is the best season for 
 sowing wheat, he will find the leaves of various 
 trees as follows : 
 
 Plane-tree, tawny. 
 Oak, yellowish green. 
 Hazel, yellow. 
 Sycamore, dirty brown. 
 Maple, pale yellow. 
 
 Ash, fine lemon. 
 Elm, orange. 
 Hawthorn, tawny yellow. 
 Cherry, red. 
 Hornbeam, bright yellow. 
 
 There is a certain kind of genial warmth which 
 the earth should enjoy at the time the seed is 
 sown. The budding, leafing, and flowering of 
 plants, seem to indicate this happy temperature 
 of the earth. Appearances of this sublime nature 
 may be compared to the writing upon the wall, 
 which was seen by many, but understood by few. 
 They seem to constitute a kind of harmonious 
 intercourse between God and man, and are the 
 silent language of the Deity. 
 
 Welcome, ye shades ! ye bowery thickets, hail ! 
 Ye lofty pines ! ye venerable oaks ! 
 Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep ! 
 Delicious is your shelter to the soul ! 
 
 Yes, indeed, the woodland is an ever- pleasant 
 place. There we may couch ourselves upon the 
 mossy bank, and listen to the murmuring "brook 
 that bubbles by," or to the sweet sounds that 
 issue from 
 
 Every warbling throat 
 Heard in the tuneful woodlands.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 Yea, truly, 
 
 There, plunged amid the shadows brown, 
 Imagination lays him down, 
 Attentive, in his airy mood, 
 To every murmur of the wood ; 
 The bee in yonder flowery nook, 
 The chidings of the headlong brook, 
 The green leaf shivering in the gale, 
 The warbling hills, the lowing vale, 
 The distant woodman's echoing stroke, 
 The thunder of the falling oak. 
 
 Carlos Wilcox sings so sweetly of vernal melody 
 in the forest, that we shall favour our readers with 
 his song : 
 
 With sonorous notes 
 Of every tone, mixed in confusion sweet, 
 All chanted in the fulness of delight, 
 The forest rings. Where, far around enclosed 
 With bushy sides, and covered high above 
 With foliage thick, supported by bare trunks, 
 Like pillars rising to support a roof, 
 It seems a temple vast, the space within 
 Rings loud and clear with thrilling melody. 
 Apart, but near the choir, with voice distinct, 
 The merry mocking-bird together links 
 In one continued song their different notes, 
 Adding new life and sweetness to them all : 
 Hid under shrubs, the squirrel, that in fields 
 Frequents the stony wall, and briery fence, 
 Here chirps so shrill that human feet approach 
 Unheard till just upon him, when, with cries, 
 Sudden and sharp, he darts to his retreat, 
 Beneath the mossy hillock or aged tree ; 
 But oft, a moment after, re-appears, 
 First peeping out, then starting forth at once 
 With a courageous air, yet in his pranks 
 Keeping a watchful eye, nor venturing far 
 Till left unheeded. 
 
 As the summer advances, forest-trees assume a
 
 16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 beautiful variety. The Oak has "spread its amber 
 leaves out in the sunny sheen ; " the ash, the 
 maple, the beech, and the sycamore are each clad 
 in delicate vestures of green ; and the dark 
 perennial firs are enlivened and enriched by the 
 young shoots and the cones of lighter hue. 
 
 "In the middle of summer," observes Howitt, 
 "it is the very carnival of Nature, and she is 
 prodigal of her luxuries. It is luxury to walk 
 abroad, indulging every sense with sweetness, 
 loveliness, and harmony. It is luxury to stand 
 beneath the forest side, when all is still and 
 basking, at noon ; and to see the landscape sud- 
 denly darken, the black and tumultuous clouds 
 assemble as at a signal ; to hear the awful thunder 
 crash upon the listening ear ; and then, to mark 
 the glorious bow rise on the lurid rear of the 
 tempest, the sun laugh jocundly abroad, and every 
 bathed leaf and blossom fair, 
 
 Pour out its soul to the delicious air. 
 
 But of the seasons autumn is the most pleasant 
 for a woodland ramble. The depth of gloom, the 
 silence, the wild cries that are heard flitting to 
 and fro ; the falling leaves already rustling to the 
 tread, and strewing the forest walk, render it 
 particularly pleasant. " And then those breaks ; 
 those openings ; those sudden emergings from 
 shadow and silence to light and liberty; those 
 unexpected comings out to the skirts of the forest, 
 or to some wild and heathy tract in the very depth 
 of the woodlands ! How pleasant is the thought
 
 INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 of it ! " The appearance of woods in autumn is 
 indeed more picturesque, and more replete with 
 incidental beauty than at any season of the year. 
 So evident is this, that painters have universally 
 chosen it as the season of landscape. The leafy 
 surface of the forest is then so varied, and the 
 masses of foliage are yet so full, that they allow 
 the artist great latitude in 'producing his tints, 
 without injuring the breadth of his lights. 
 
 The fading, many-coloured woods, 
 Shade deepening over- shade, the country round 
 Imbrown ; a varied umbrage, dusk and dun, 
 Of every hue, from wan declining green 
 To sooty dark. 
 
 Of all the hues of autumn, those of the oak are 
 commonly the most harmonious. In an oaken 
 wood, you see every variety of green and brown, 
 owing either to the different exposure of the tree, 
 the difference of the soil, or its own nature. In 
 the beechen grove, this variety is not to be found. 
 In early autumn, when the extremities of the trees 
 are slightly tinged with orange, it may be partially 
 produced ; but late the eye is usually fatigued with 
 one deep monotonous shade of orange, though 
 perhaps it is the most beautiful among all the 
 hues of autumn. And this uniformity prevails 
 wherever the ash and elm abound, though of a 
 different hue; and, indeed, no fading foliage ex- 
 cepting that of the oak, produces harmony of 
 colouring. 
 
 Even when the beauty of the landscape has 
 departed, the charms of autumn may remain.
 
 18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 When the raging heat of summer is abated, and 
 ere the rigours of winter are set in, there are 
 frequent days of such heavenly temperature, that 
 every mind must feel their effect. Thomson thus 
 describes a day of this kind : 
 
 The morning shines 
 Serene, in all its dewy beauties bright, 
 Unfolding fair the last autumnal day, 
 O'er all the soul its sacred influence breathes ; 
 Inflames imagination, through the breast 
 Infuses every tenderness, and far 
 Beyond dim earth exalts the swelling thought. 
 
 We now proceed to give a detailed notice of some 
 of the component parts of the woodland scenery, 
 beginning with the single tree. 
 
 We feel no hesitation in calling a tree the grandest 
 and most beautiful of all the various productions 
 of the earth. In respect to its grandeur, nothing 
 can compete with it ; for the everlasting rocks and 
 lofty mountains are parts of the earth itself. And 
 though we find great beauty beauty at once per- 
 ceptible and ever-varying, and consequently more 
 universally felt and appreciated among plants of 
 an inferior order among shrubs and flowers, yet 
 these latter may be considered beautiful rather as 
 individuals, for as they are not adapted to form 
 the arrangement of composition in landscape, nor 
 to receive the effect of light and shade, they must 
 give place in point of beauty of picturesque 
 beauty at least to the form, and foliage, and 
 ramification of the tree. 
 
 The tree, however, we do not place in competition 
 with animal life. " The shape, the different coloured
 
 INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 furs, the varied and spirited attitudes, the cha- 
 racter and motion, which strike us in the animal 
 creation, are unquestionably beyond still life in 
 its most pleasing appearance." With regard to 
 trees, nature has been more liberal to them in 
 point of variety, than even to its living forms. 
 " Though every animal is distinguished from its 
 fellow, by some little variation of colour, character, 
 or shape ; yet in all the larger parts, in the body 
 and limbs, the resemblance is generally exact. In 
 trees, it is just the reverse : the smaller parts, the 
 spray, the leaves, the blossom, and the seed, are 
 the same in all trees of the same kind ; while the 
 larger parts, from which the most beautiful varieties 
 result, are wholly different." For instance, you 
 never see two oaks with the same number of limbs, 
 the same kind of head, and twisted in the same 
 form. 
 
 When young, trees, like striplings, shoot into 
 taper forms. There is a lightness and an airiness 
 about them, which is pleasing; but they do not 
 spread and receive their just proportions, until 
 they have attained their full growth. 
 
 There is as much difference, too, in trees that 
 is, in trees of the same kind in point of beauty, 
 as there is in human figures. The limbs of some 
 are set on awkwardly, their trunks are dispropor- 
 tioned, and their whole form is unpleasing. The 
 same rules, which establish elegance in other 
 objects, establish it in these. There must be the 
 same harmony of parts, the same sweeping line, 
 the same contrast, the same ease and freedom. A
 
 20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 bough, indeed, may issue from the trunk at right 
 angles, and yet elegantly, as it frequently does in 
 the oak ; but it must immediately form some con- 
 trasting sweep, or the junction will be awkward. 
 
 Generally speaking, trees when lapped and 
 trimmed into fastidious shapes, become ugly and 
 displeasing. Thus clipped yews, lime hedges, and 
 pollards, being rendered unnatural in form, are 
 disagreeable ; though sometimes a pollard produces 
 a good effect, when Nature has been suffered, after 
 some years, to bring it again into shape. 
 
 Lightness is a characteristic of beauty in a tree ; 
 for though there are beautiful trees of a heavy, as 
 well as of a light form, yet their extremities must 
 in some parts be separated, and hang with a degree 
 of looseness from the fulness of the foliage, which 
 occupies the middle of the tree, or the whole will 
 only be a large bush. From position, indeed, and 
 contrast, heaviness, though in itself a deformity, 
 may be of singular use in the composition both of 
 natural and of artificial landscape. 
 
 A tree must be well balanced to be beautiful, 
 for it may have form and lightness, and yet lose 
 its effect from not being properly poised ; though 
 occasionally beauty may be found in an unbalanced 
 tree, yet this must be caused by some peculiarity 
 in its situation. For instance, when hanging over 
 a rock, if altogether unpoised, it may be beautiful; 
 or bending over a road, its effect may be good. 
 
 We have often admired the massy trunk of an 
 aged forest oak ; and Gilpin says he frequently 
 examined the varied tints which enriched its fur-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 rowed stem. The genuine bark of an oak is ash 
 coloured, though it is not easy to distinguish this, 
 from the quantity of moss which overspreads it ; 
 for we suppose every oak has more or less of these 
 picturesque appendages. About the roots there is 
 a green velvet moss, which is found in a greater 
 degree to occupy the bole of the beech, though its 
 beauty and brilliancy lose much when in decay. 
 As the trunk rises, you see the brimstone colour 
 taking possession in patches. Of this there are 
 two principal kinds : a smooth sort, which spreads 
 like a scurf over the bark, and a rougher sort, 
 which hangs in little rich knots and fringes. This 
 sometimes inclines to an olive hue, and occasionally 
 to a light green. Intermixed with these mosses is 
 frequently found a species perfectly white. Here 
 and there, a touch of it gives lustre to the trunk, 
 and has its effect ; yet, on the whole, it is a nuis- 
 ance, for as it generally begins to thrive when the 
 other mosses begin to wither, it is rarely accom- 
 panied with any of the more beautiful species of 
 its kind. This is a sure sign that the vigour of 
 the tree is declining. There is another species of 
 a dark-brown colour, inclining to black ; another 
 of an ashy colour ; and another of a dingy yellow. 
 Touches of red are also observable, and occasion- 
 ally, though rarely, a bright yellow, which is like 
 a gleam of sunshine. These add a great richness 
 to the trees, and when blended harmoniously, as 
 they commonly are, the rough and furrowed trunk 
 of an oak, thus adorned, is an object which will 
 long detain the picturesque eye.
 
 22 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 These and other incidental appendages to a tree 
 are greatly subservient to the uses of the pencil, 
 and the poet will now and then deign to deck his 
 trees with these ornaments. He sometimes calls 
 into being some mighty agent, as guardian of the 
 woods, who cries out, 
 
 From Jove I am the Power 
 Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower. 
 I nurse my saplings tall ; and cleanse their rind 
 From vegetating filth of every kind ; 
 And all my plants I save from nightly ill 
 Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill. 
 
 The blasted tree adds much to effect, both in arti- 
 ficial and natural landscape. In some scenes it is 
 nearly essential. When the dreary heath is spread 
 before the eye, and ideas of wildness and desolation 
 are required, what more suitable accompaniment 
 can be imagined, than the blasted oak, ragged, 
 scathed, and leafless, shooting its peeled white 
 branches athwart the gathering blackness of some 
 rising storm ? 
 
 As when heaven's fire 
 
 Hath scathed the forest oak, or mountain pine, 
 With singed top its stately growth, though bare, 
 Stands on the blasted heath. 
 
 beneath that oak, 
 
 Whose shattered majesty hath felt the stroke 
 Of Heaven's own thunder yet it proudly heaves 
 A giant sceptre wreathed with blasted leaves 
 As though it dared the elements. 
 
 NEALE. 
 
 Ivy also gives great richness to an old trunk, 
 both by its stem, which often winds round it in 
 thick, hairy, irregular volumes ; and by its leaf,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 which either decks the furrowed bark, or creeps 
 among the branches, or carelessly hangs from 
 them. It unites with the mosses, and other furni- 
 ture of the trees, in adorning and enriching it. 
 
 The tribes of mosses, lichens, and liver-worts, 
 are all parasitical ; it is doubted whether the ivy 
 is or not. The former, however, are absolute re- 
 tainers. The character of the ivy, too, has been 
 misrepresented, if his feelers have not some other 
 purpose than that of enabling him to show his 
 attachment to his patient supporter. Shakspeare 
 asserts that he makes a property of him : 
 
 He was 
 
 The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, 
 And sucked my verdure out. 
 
 Besides these there are others which are sustained 
 entirely by their own means. Among them we 
 may distinguish the black and white briony. The 
 berries of many of these little plants are variously 
 coloured in the different stages of their growth 
 yellow, red, and orange. All these produce their 
 effect. The feathered seeds of the traveller's joy 
 are also ornamental. The wild honeysuckle comes 
 within this class ; and it fully compensates for any 
 injury it may do by the compression of the young 
 branches, by its winding spiral coils, and by the 
 beauty and fragrance of its flowers : 
 
 With clasping tendrils it invests the branch, 
 Else unadorned, with many a gay festoon, 
 And fragrant chaplet ; recompensing well 
 The strength it borrows with the grace it lends. 
 
 In warm climates, where vines are the spontaneous
 
 24: INTRODUCTION. 
 
 offspring of nature, nothing can have a more pleas- 
 ing effect than the forest-tree adorned with their 
 twisting branches, hanging in rich festoons from 
 bough to bough, and laden with fruit, 
 
 the clusters clear 
 Half through the foliage seen. 
 
 In England, the hop we consider the most beauti- 
 ful appendage of the hanging kind. In its rude 
 natural state, indeed, twisting carelessly round the 
 branches of trees, it has as good an effect as the 
 vine. Its leaf is similar ; and though its bunches 
 are not so beautiful as the clusters of the vine, it 
 is more accommodating, hangs more loosely, and 
 is less extravagant in its growth. 
 
 The motion of trees is one source of considerable 
 beauty. The waving heads of some, and the undu- 
 lation of others, give a continual variety to their 
 forms. In nature this is certainly a circumstance 
 of great beauty : 
 
 Things in motion sooner catch the eye 
 Than what stirs not ; 
 
 and this also affords the chequered shade, formed 
 under it by the dancing of the sunbeams among 
 its playing leaves. This circumstance is of a very 
 amusing nature, and is capable of being beautifully 
 wrought up in poetry : 
 
 The chequered earth seems restless as a flood 
 Brushed by the winds. So sportive is the light, 
 Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance, 
 Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick, 
 And darkening and enlightening (as the leaves 
 Play wanton) every part.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 The clump of trees next occupies our attention. 
 The term, says Gilpin, has rather a relative mean- 
 ing, as no rule of art hath yet prescribed what 
 number of trees form a clump. Near the eye we 
 should call three or four trees a clump, and at the 
 same time, in distant or extensive scenery, we 
 should apply the same term to any smaller detached 
 portion of wood, though it may be formed of hun- 
 dreds of trees. But though the term admits not 
 of exact definition, we will endeavour to make the 
 ideas contained under it as distinct as possible. 
 
 We distinguish, then, two kinds of clumps, the 
 smaller and the larger ; confining the former chiefly 
 to the foreground, and considering the latter as a 
 distant ornament. 
 
 With respect to the former, we apprehend its 
 chief beauty arises from contrast in the parts. We 
 shall attempt to enumerate some of the sources 
 whence the beauty of contrast is produced. Three 
 trees, or more, standing in a line, are formal, but 
 in the natural wood this formality is rarely found. 
 And yet even three trees in a line will be greatly 
 assisted by the lines of the several trunks taking 
 different directions; and by the various forms, 
 distances, and growth of the trees. 
 
 If three trees do not stand in a line, they must 
 of course stand in a triangle, which produces a 
 great variety of pleasing forms. And if a fourth 
 tree be added, it stands beautifully near the middle 
 of the triangle, of whatever form the triangle may 
 be. If the clump consist of more trees than four, 
 a still greater variety among the stems will of
 
 26 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 course take place; double triangles, and other 
 pleasing shapes, all of which may be seen exempli- 
 fied in every wood of natural growth. 
 
 The branches are not less the source of contrast 
 than the stem. To be picturesque, they must in- 
 termingle with each other without heaviness ; they 
 must hang loosely, but yet with varied looseness 
 on every side ; and if there be one head or top of 
 the tree above another, there may be two or three 
 subordinate, according to the size of the clump. 
 
 Different kinds of trees, in the same clump, often 
 occasion a beautiful contrast. There are few trees 
 which will not harmonize with trees of another 
 kind ; though it may be that contrasts the most 
 simple and beautiful are produced by the various 
 modes of growth in the same species. Two or 
 three oaks, intermingling their branches together, 
 have often a very pleasing effect. The beech, 
 when fully grown, is commonly (in a luxuriant soil 
 at least), so heavy, that it seldom blends happily, 
 either with its own kind or any other. The silver 
 fir, too, is a very unaccommodating tree, as also 
 all the other firs, and indeed every kind of tree 
 that tapers to a point. The pine race, however, 
 being clump-headed, unite well in composition. 
 With these also the Scotch fir leagues, from little 
 knots of which we often see beautiful contrasts 
 arise. When they are young and luxuriant, espe- 
 cially if any number of them above four or five 
 are planted together, they generally form a heavy 
 murky spot, but as they acquire age this heaviness 
 goes off, the inner branches decay, the outer
 
 INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 branches hang loosely and negligently, and the 
 whole has frequently a good effect, unless they 
 have been planted too closely. It may be doubted 
 how far deciduous trees mingle well in a clump 
 with evergreens ; and yet, occasionally, from the 
 darkness of the fir contrasting agreeably with the 
 sprightly green of a deciduous tree just coming 
 into leaf, a natural good effect of light and shade 
 is produced. 
 
 Contrasts arise, again, from the mixture of trees 
 of unequal growth, from a young tree united with 
 an old one, a stunted tree with a luxuriant one, 
 and sometimes from two or three trees, which in 
 themselves are ill-shaped, but when combined are 
 pleasing. Inequalities of all these kinds are what 
 chiefly give nature's planting a superiority over art. 
 
 The form of the foliage is another source of con- 
 trast. In one part, where the branches intermingle, 
 the foliage will be interwoven and close ; in another, 
 where the boughs of each tree hang separately, the 
 appearance will be light and easy. 
 
 But whatever beauty these contrasts exhibit, the 
 effect is altogether lost if the clump be not well 
 balanced. If no side preponderate so as to offend 
 the eye, it is enough, and unless the clump have 
 sustained some external injury, it is seldom defi- 
 cient in point of balance. Nature generally con- 
 ducts the stems and branches in such easy forms, 
 wherever there is an opening, and fills up all with 
 such nice contrivance, and with so much pic- 
 turesque irregularity, that we rarely wish for an 
 amendment in her works. So true is this, that
 
 28 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 you may not take away a tree from a clump with- 
 out infallibly destroying the balance which can 
 never again be restored. 
 
 When the clump grows larger, it becomes quali- 
 fied only as a remote object, combining with vast 
 woods, and forming a part of some extensive scene, 
 either as a first, a second, or a third distance. 
 
 The great use of the larger clump is to lighten 
 the heaviness of a continued distant wood, and 
 connect it gently with the plain, that the transition 
 may not be too abrupt. All we wish to find in a 
 clump of this kind is proportion and general form. 
 
 With respect to proportion, the detached clump 
 must not encroach too much on the dignity of the 
 wood it aids, but must observe a proper subordina- 
 tion. A large tract of country covered with wood, 
 will admit several of these auxiliary clumps, of 
 different dimensions. But if the wood be of a 
 smaller size, the clumps must also be smaller and 
 fewer. 
 
 As the clump becomes larger and recedes in the 
 landscape, all the pleasing contrasts we expected 
 in the smaller clumps are lost, and we are satisfied 
 with a general form. No regular form is pleasing. 
 A clump on the side of a hill, or in any situation 
 where the eye can more easily investigate its 
 shape, must be circumscribed by an irregular line ; 
 in which the undulations, both at the base and 
 summit of the clump, should be strongly marked, 
 as the eye has probably a distinct view of both. 
 But if seen only on the top of a hill, or along the 
 distant horizon, a little variation in the line which
 
 INTRODUCTION. 29 
 
 forms the summit, so as to break any disagreeable 
 regularity there, will be sufficient. 
 
 As a large tract of wood requires a few large 
 clumps to connect it gently with the plain, so these 
 large clumps themselves require the same service 
 from a single tree, or a few trees, according to their 
 size. 
 
 The Copse, the Glen, and the open Grove next 
 demand our notice. 
 
 The Copse is a species of scenery composed gene- 
 rally of forest-trees, intermixed with brushwood, 
 which latter is periodically cut down in twelve, 
 thirteen, or fourteen years. In its dismantled 
 state, nothing can be more forlorn. The area is 
 covered with bare roots and knobs, from which the 
 brushwood has been cut ; while the forest-trees, 
 intermingled among them, present their ragged 
 stems, despoiled of all their lateral branches, which 
 the luxuriance of the surrounding thickets had 
 choked. The copse, however, soon repairs the in- 
 jury it has thus suffered. One winter only sees 
 its disgrace. The following summer produces 
 luxuriant shoots ; and two summers more restore 
 it almost to perfect beauty. 
 
 It is of little moment what species of wood com- 
 poses the copse ; for we do not expect from it scenes 
 of picturesque beauty, but are satisfied if it yields 
 us a shady sequestered path, which it generally 
 furnishes in great perfection. It is among the 
 luxuries of nature, to retreat into the cool recesses 
 of the full-grown copse from the severity of a meri- 
 dian sun, and to be serenaded by the humming
 
 30 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 insects of the shade, whose continuous song has a 
 more refreshing sound than the buzzing vagrant 
 fly, which wantons in the glare of day, and, as 
 Milton expresses it, 
 
 winds her sultry horn. 
 
 In distant landscape the copse hath seldom any 
 effect. The beauty of a wood in a distant view 
 arises in some degree from its tuftings which break 
 and enrich the lights, but chiefly from its contrast 
 with the plain, and from the grand shapes and 
 forms, occasioned by the retiring and advancing 
 parts of the forest, which produce vast masses of 
 light and shade, and give effect to the whole. 
 
 These beauties appear rarely in the copse. In- 
 stead of that rich and tufted bed of foliage, which 
 the distant forest exhibits, the copse presents a 
 meagre and unaccommodating surface. It is age 
 which gives the tree its tufted form, and the forest 
 its effect. A nursery of saplings produces it not, and 
 the copse is little more, nor does the intermixture 
 of full-grown trees assist the appearance. Their 
 clumpy heads blend ill with the spiry tops of the 
 juniors. Neither have they any connection with 
 each other. The woodman's judgment is shown 
 in leaving the timber-trees at proper intervals, 
 that they may neither hinder each other's growth, 
 nor the growth of the underwood. But the wood- 
 man does not pretend to manage his trees with a 
 view to picturesque beauty ; and from his manage- 
 ment, it is impossible they should produce a mass 
 of light and shade. Besides, the copse forms no
 
 INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 contrast with the plain, nor presents those beauti- 
 ful projections and recesses -which the skirts of the 
 forest exhibit. A copse is a plot of ground, pro- 
 portioned off for the purpose of nurturing wood. 
 Of course it must be fenced from cattle ; and these 
 fences, which are in themselves disgusting, gene- 
 rally form the copse into a square, or some other 
 regular figure ; so that we have not only a defor- 
 mity, but a want also of a connecting tie between 
 the wood and the plain. Instead of a softened 
 undulating line, we have a harsh fence. 
 
 The best effect which the copse produces, is on 
 the lofty banks of the river ; this may be seen par- 
 ticularly on the Wye. In navigating such a river, 
 the deficiencies of this mode of scenery, as you view 
 it upwards from a boat, are lost; and in almost 
 every state it has a good effect. While it enriches 
 the bank, its uncouth shape, unless the fence is too 
 much in view, and all its other unpleasant appear- 
 ances, are concealed. 
 
 When a winding walk is carried through a copse, 
 which must necessarily in a few years, even in 
 point of picturesque beauty, be given to the axe, 
 shall the whole be cut down together ? Or shall 
 a border be left, as is sometimes done, on each side 
 of the walk ? 
 
 This is a difficult question ; but Gilpin thinks it 
 should all go together. Unless the border you 
 leave be very broad, it will have no effect, even at 
 present. You will see through it ; it will appear 
 meagre, and will never unite happily with the 
 neighbouring parts when they begin to grow ; at
 
 32 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 least, it ought not to stand longer than two years. 
 The rest of the copse will then be growing beauti- 
 ful, and the border may be dispensed with till it is 
 replaced. But the way, decidedly, is to cut down 
 all together. In a little time it will recover its 
 beauty. 
 
 We now proceed to the Glen. A wide and open 
 space between hills, is called a vale. If it be of 
 smaller dimensions, we call it a valley. But when 
 this space is contracted to a chasm, it becomes a 
 glen. 
 
 A glen, therefore, is commonly the offspring of 
 a mountainous country; though sometimes found 
 elsewhere, with its usual accompaniments of woody 
 banks, and a rivulet at the bottom. The glen may 
 be more or less contracted. It may form one single 
 sweep, or its deviations may be irregular. The 
 wood may consist of full-grown trees, or of under- 
 wood, or of a mixture of both. The path winding 
 through it may run along the upper or the lower 
 part. Or the rivulet may foam among rocks, or 
 murmur among pebbles ; it may form transparent 
 pools, overhung with wood ; or, which is frequently 
 the case, it may be invisible, and an object only of 
 the ear. All these circumstances are capable of 
 an infinite variety. 
 
 The beauties of the internal parts of the glen 
 consist chiefly in the glades, or openings, which 
 are found in it. If the whole were a thicket, little 
 beauty would result. Unlike the copse, its fur- 
 niture is commonly of a fortuitous growth, and 
 escapes those periodical defalcations to which the
 
 INTRODUCTION. 33 
 
 copse is subject, and generally exhibits more beau- 
 tiful scenery. It abounds with frequent openings. 
 The eye is carried down, from the higher grounds, 
 to a sweep of the river or to a little gushing cas- 
 cade or to the face of a fractured rock, garnished 
 with hanging wood or perhaps to a cottage, with 
 its scanty area of lawn falling to the river on one 
 side, and sheltered by a clump of oaks on the 
 other ; while the smoke, wreathing behind the 
 trees, disperses and loses itself as it gains the 
 summit of the glen. Or, still more beautifully, 
 the eye breaks out at some opening, perhaps into 
 the country, enriched with all the varieties of dis- 
 tant landscape plains and woods melting together 
 a winding river blue mountains or perhaps 
 some bay of the sea, with a little harbour and 
 shipping. 
 
 As an object of distance also, the woody glen 
 has often a good effect climbing the sides of 
 mountains, breaking their lines, and giving variety 
 to their bleak and barren sides. 
 
 From the glen we hasten to the open Grove, 
 which is composed of trees arising from a smooth 
 area, and consisting either of pines or of the deci- 
 duous race. Beautiful groves of both may be seen. 
 That of the pine will always be dry, as it is the 
 peculiar quality of its leaves to imbibe moisture : 
 but in lightness, variety, and general beauty, that 
 of deciduous trees excels. If, however, you wish 
 your grove to be in the gloomy style, the pine race 
 will serve your purpose best. 
 
 The open grove rarely makes a picturesque
 
 34 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 appearance. It may, indeed, have the effect of 
 other woods in distant scenery ; for the trees of 
 which it is formed need not be separated from each 
 other, as in the copse, but, being well massed toge- 
 ther, may receive beautiful effects of light. When 
 we enter its recesses, it is not so well calculated to 
 please. There it wants variety, and that not only 
 from the smoothness of the surface, but from the 
 uniformity of the furniture at least if it be an 
 artificial scene, in which the trees, having been 
 planted in a nursery, grow all alike, with upright 
 stems. And yet a walk, upon a velvet turf, wind- 
 ing at pleasure among these natural columns, 
 whose twisting branches at least admit some 
 variety, with a spreading canopy of foliage over 
 the head, is pleasing, and in hot weather refresh- 
 ing. Sometimes we find the open grove of natural 
 growth ; it is then more various and irregular, and 
 becomes, of course, a more pleasing scene. And 
 yet, when woods of this kind continue, as they 
 sometimes do, in unpeopled countries, through 
 half a province, they become tiresome, and prove 
 that it is not wood, but variety of landscape, that 
 delights the eye. The pleasing tranquillity of 
 groves hath ever been in high repute among the 
 innocent and refined part of mankind : 
 
 Groves were planted to console at noon 
 The pensive wanderer in their shades. At eve 
 The moonbeam sliding softly in between 
 The sleeping leaves, is all the light he wants 
 For meditation. 
 
 Indeed, no species of landscape is so fitted for
 
 INTRODUCTION. 35 
 
 meditation. The forest attracts the attention by 
 its grandeur, and the park scene by its beauty ; 
 while the paths through copses, dells, and thickets, 
 are too close, devious, interrupted, and often too 
 beautiful to allow the mind to be at perfect ease. 
 But the uniform sameness of the grove leaves the 
 eye disengaged ; and the feet wandering at plea- 
 sure, where they are confined by no path, want 
 little direction. The mind, therefore, undisturbed, 
 has only to retire within itself. Hence the philo- 
 sopher, the devotee, the poet, all retreated to these 
 quiet recesses ; and, 
 
 from the world retired, 
 Conversed with angels and immortal forms. 
 
 In classic times, the grove was the haunt of gods ; 
 and in the days of Nature, before art had intro- 
 duced a kind of combination against her, men had 
 no idea of worshipping God in a temple made with 
 hands. The templum nemorale was the only temple 
 he knew. 
 
 In the resounding wood, 
 All vocal beings hymned their equal God. 
 
 And to this idea, indeed, one of the earliest forms 
 of the artificial temple seems to have been in- 
 debted. Many learned men have thought the 
 Gothic arch of our cathedral churches was an 
 imitation of the natural grove. It arises from a 
 lofty stem, or from two or three stems, if they be 
 slender ; which being bound together, and spread- 
 ing in every direction, cover the whole roof with 
 their ramifications. In the close recesses of the
 
 36 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 beech en grove, we find this idea the most complete. 
 The lofty, narrow aisle the pointed arch the 
 clustered pillar, whose parts separating without 
 violence, diverge gradually to form the fretted 
 roof find there perhaps their earliest archetype. 
 Bryant has wrought out this idea in a beautiful 
 fragment, entitled " God's First Temples :" 
 
 The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
 And spread the roof above them, ere he framed 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
 The sound of anthems, in the darkling wood, 
 Amidst the cool and silence he knelt down, 
 And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
 And supplication. For his simple heart 
 Might not resist the sacred influences, 
 That, from the stilly twilight of the place, 
 And from the gray old trunks, that, high in heaven, 
 Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
 Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 
 All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 
 His spirit with the thought of boundless Power 
 And inaccessible Majesty. Ah, why 
 Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
 God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 
 Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
 That our frail hands have raised ! Let me, at least, 
 Here in the shadow of this aged wood, 
 Offer one hymn thrice happy, if it find 
 Acceptance in his ear. 
 
 Father, thy hand 
 
 Hath reared these venerable columns ; thou 
 Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
 Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 
 All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, 
 Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 
 And shot towards heaven. The century-living crow, 
 Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
 Among their branches, till at last they stood,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 37 
 
 As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, 
 
 Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold 
 
 Communion with his Maker. Here are seen 
 
 No traces of man's pomp or pride ; no silks 
 
 Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes 
 
 Encounter ; no fantastic carvings show 
 
 The boast of our vain race to change the form 
 
 Of thy fair works. But thou art here thou fill'st 
 
 The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds 
 
 That run along the summits of these trees 
 
 In music ; thou art in the cooler breath, 
 
 That, from the inmost darkness of the place, 
 
 Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, 
 
 The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with thee. 
 
 Here is continual worship ; nature, here, 
 
 In the tranquillity that thou dost love, 
 
 Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, 
 
 From perch to perch, the solitary bird 
 
 Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, 'midst its herbs, 
 
 Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots 
 
 Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 
 
 Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left 
 
 Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 
 
 Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, 
 
 Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak 
 
 By whose immovable stem I stand, and seem 
 
 Almost annihilated not a prince, 
 
 In all the proud old world beyond the deep, 
 
 E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 
 
 Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
 
 Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 
 
 Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 
 
 Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, 
 
 With scented breath, and look so like a smile, 
 
 Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
 
 An emanation of the indwelling Life, 
 
 A visible token of the upholding Love, 
 
 That are the soul of this wide universe. 
 
 My heart is awed within me, when I think 
 Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
 In silence, round me the perpetual work 
 Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed
 
 38 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 For ever. Written on thy works, I read 
 The lesson of thy own eternity. 
 Lo ! all grow old and die : but see, again, 
 How, on the faltering footsteps of decay, 
 Youth presses ever gay and beautiful youth, 
 In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
 "Wave not less proudly than their ancestors 
 Moulder beneath them. O, there is not lost 
 One of earth's charms : upon her bosom yet, 
 After the flight of untold centuries, 
 The freshness of her far beginning lies, 
 And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate 
 Of his arch-enemy Death yea, seats himself 
 Upon the sepulchre, and blooms and smiles, 
 And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe 
 Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth 
 From thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 
 
 There have been holy men, who hid themselves 
 Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 
 Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived 
 The generation born with them, nor seemed 
 Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
 Around them ; and there have been holy men, 
 "Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. 
 But let me often to these solitudes 
 Retire, and, in thy presence, reassure 
 My feeble virtue. Here its enemies, 
 The passions, at thy plainer footsteps shrink, 
 And tremble, and are still. O God ! when thou 
 Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire 
 The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, 
 With all the waters of the firmament, 
 The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods, 
 And drowns the villages ; when, at thy call, 
 Uprises the great Deep, and throws himself 
 Upon the continent, and overwhelms 
 Its cities ; who forgets not, at the sight 
 Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, 
 His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ? 
 O, from these sterner aspects of thy face, 
 Spare me and mine ; nor let us need the wrath 
 Of the mad, unchained elements to teach
 
 INTRODUCTION. 39 
 
 Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
 In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, 
 And, to the beautiful order of thy works, 
 Learn to conform the order of our lives. 
 
 We will conclude this Introduction by recom- 
 mending the reader, in the words of the poet, to 
 enjoy the sweet calmness of the "Woodland retreat : 
 
 If thou art worn and hard beset 
 
 With sorrows that thou would'st forget 
 If thou would'st read a lesson that will keep 
 Thy heart from fainting, and thy soul from sleep, 
 
 Go to the woods and hills ! no tears 
 
 Dim the sweet look that nature wears.
 
 STRANGER, if thou hast learnt a truth, which needs 
 
 Experience more than reason, that the world 
 
 Is full of guilt and misery, and hast known 
 
 Enough of all its sorrows, crimes and cares, 
 
 To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood, 
 
 And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade 
 
 Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze. 
 
 That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm 
 
 To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here 
 
 Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men, 
 
 And made thee loathe thy life. The primal curse 
 
 Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, 
 
 But not in vengeance. Misery is wed 
 
 To guilt. And hence these shades are still the abodes 
 
 Of undissembled gladness : the thick roof 
 
 Of green and stirring branches is alive 
 
 And musical with birds, that sing and sport 
 
 In wantonness of spirit ; while, below, 
 
 The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect, 
 
 Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the glade 
 
 Try their thin wings, and dance in the warm beam 
 
 That waked them into life. Even the green trees 
 
 Partake the deep contentment : as they bend 
 
 To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky 
 
 Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. 
 
 Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy 
 
 Existence, than the winged plunderer 
 
 That sucks its sweets. The massy rocks themselves, 
 
 The old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees, 
 
 That lead from knoll to knoll, a causey rude, 
 
 Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots, 
 
 With all their earth upon them ; twisting high 
 
 Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet 
 
 Sends forth glad sounds, and, tripping o'er its bed 
 
 Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, 
 
 Seems with continuous laughter to rejoice 
 
 In its own being. Softly tread the marge, 
 
 Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren 
 
 That dips her bill in water. The cool wind, 
 
 That stirs the stream in play shall come to thee, 
 
 Like one that loves thee, nor will let thee pass 
 
 Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace. 
 
 BRYANT.
 
 THE ALDER-TREE. 
 
 [Alnus.* Nat. Ord. Ament iferce ; Linn. Moncec. Tetra.] 
 
 THE Common Alder (A. glutinosa), is the most 
 aquatic of European trees. It grows to the height 
 of fifty or sixty feet, in favourable situations by 
 the sides of streams, and is a somewhat picturesque 
 tree in its ramification as well as its foliage. It 
 
 * Generic characters. Scales of the barren catkins, 3-lobed, 
 ;J-flo\vered. Perianth 4-cleft. Scales of the fertile catkin ovate, 
 2-flowered, coriaceous, persistent. Styles 2, parallel, setiform, 
 deciduous ; stigma simple. Fruit a nut, ovate, 2-celled. Kernel 
 solitary, ovate, acute. Name, Celtic, from al, and Ian, a river 
 bank. 
 
 D
 
 42 ALDER. 
 
 is nearly related, in nature rather than in form, 
 to the willow tribe ; it is more picturesque than 
 the latter, and perhaps the most so of any of the 
 aquatic species, except the weeping willow. Gilpin 
 says, that if we would see the Alder in perfection, 
 we must follow the banks of the Mole, in Surrey, 
 through the sweet vales of Dorking and Mickleham, 
 into the groves of Esher. The Mole, indeed, is far 
 from being a beautiful river ; it is a silent and slug- 
 gish stream : but what beauty it has it owes greatly 
 to the Alder, which everywhere fringes its meadows, 
 and in many places forms very pleasing scenes ; 
 especially in the vale between Box Hill and the 
 high grounds of Norbury Park. Spenser probably 
 once reposed under the shade of these trees, as he 
 mentions them in his "Colin Clout's come home 
 again." 
 
 One day, quoth he, I sate, as was my trade, 
 Under the foot of Mole, that mountain hore, 
 Keeping my sheep among the cooly shade 
 Of the green Alders on the Mulla shore. 
 
 Some of the largest Alders in England grow in 
 the Bishop of Durham's park, at Bishop Auckland. 
 In speaking of these, Gilpin remarks, that "the 
 generality of trees acquire picturesque beauty by 
 age ; but it is not often that they are suffered to 
 attain this picturesque period. Some use is com- 
 monly found for them long before that time. The 
 oak falls for the greater purposes of man, and the 
 Alder is ready to supply a variety of his smaller 
 wants. An old tree, therefore, of any kind is a 
 curiosity ; and even an Alder, such as those at
 
 ALDER. 
 
 43 
 
 Bishop Auckland, when dignified by age, makes a 
 respectable figure." 
 
 The Alder grows naturally in Europe from Lap- 
 
 Specijic character of A. glutinosa. Common Alder. Leaves 
 roundish, cuneate, waved, serrate, glutinous, downy at the branch- 
 ing of the veins beneath. A moderately sized tree, with rugged 
 bark, and crooked, spreading, smooth branches : barren catkins 
 long, pendulous ; fertile ones short, oval. Flowers in March.
 
 44 ALDER. 
 
 land to Gibraltar, in Asia from the White Sea to 
 Mount Caucasus, and in the north of Africa, as 
 well as being indigenous in England. The flowers 
 bloom in March and April ; they have no gay tints 
 or beauty to recommend them, and consequently 
 afford pleasure only to the botanist or the curious 
 observer of nature. The leaves begin to open 
 about the 7th of April, and when fully expanded 
 are of a deep dull green. The bark being smooth 
 and of a purplish hue, the tree has an agreeable 
 effect among others in all kinds of plantations of 
 the watery tribe. 
 
 The Alder must have grown to a great size in 
 days of yore ; for Virgil speaks of vessels made of 
 this material : 
 
 When hollow Alders first the waters tried. 
 
 And again : 
 
 And down the rapid Po light Alders glide. 
 
 Ovid also tells us that 
 
 Trees rudely hollowed did the waves sustain, 
 Ere ships in triumph ploughed the watery main. 
 
 Abroad this tree is raised from seed, which is 
 decidedly the best mode, and secures the finest 
 specimens ; though in this country they are gene- 
 rally propagated by layers or truncheons. The 
 best time for planting the latter, is in February or 
 March ; the truncheons being sharpened at the 
 end, the ground should be loosened by thrusting an 
 iron crow into it, to prevent the bark from being
 
 ALDER. 45 
 
 torn off ; and they should be planted at the least 
 two feet deep. When cultivated by layers, the 
 planting should take place in October, and they will 
 then be ready to transplant in twelve months' time. 
 The Alder is usually planted as coppice wood, to 
 be cut down every five or six years, for conversion 
 into charcoal, which is preferred in making gun- 
 powder. The bark on the young wood is powerfully 
 astringent, and is employed by tanners ; and the 
 young shoots are used for dyeing red, brown, and 
 yellow ; and in combination with copperas, to dye 
 black. It is greatly cultivated in Flanders and 
 Holland for piles, for which purpose it is invalu- 
 able, as when constantly under water, or in moist 
 and boggy situations, it becomes hardened, black 
 as ebony, and will last for ages. On this account 
 it is also very serviceable in strengthening the 
 embankments of rivers or canals ; and while the 
 roots and trunks are preventing the encroachment 
 of the stream, they throw out branches which may 
 be cut for poles every fifth or sixth year, especially 
 if pruned of superfluous shoots in the spring. 
 
 As Alders in the spring, their boles extend, 
 And heave so fiercely that the bark they rend. 
 
 VIRGIL, eel. x. 
 
 Vitruvius informs us, that the morasses about 
 Ravenna were piled with this timber to build upon ; 
 and Evelyn says that it was used in the foundations 
 of Ponte Rialto, over the Grand Canal at Venice. 
 The wood is also valuable for various domestic 
 purposes.
 
 46 ALDER. 
 
 Besides the common Alder there are introduced 
 at least six other species : 
 
 1. A. Glutinosa, already described. 
 
 2. Emarginata, leaves nearly round, wedge- 
 shaped, and edged with green. 
 
 3. Laciniata, leaves oblong and pinnatifid, with 
 the lobes acute. 
 
 4. Quercifolia, leaves sinuated, with the lobes 
 obtuse. 
 
 5. Oxyacanthcefolia, leaves sinuated and lobed ; 
 smaller than those of the preceding variety, and 
 somewhat resembling the common hawthorn. 
 
 6. Macrocarpa, leaves and fruit larger than those 
 of the species. 
 
 7. Foliis variegatis, leaves variegated.
 
 THE ASH-TREE. 
 
 [Fraxinus* Nat. Ord. Oleacece ; Linn. Dian. Monog.] 
 
 THE Common Ash (F. excelsior], is one of the noblest 
 of our forest-trees, and generally carries its prin- 
 cipal stem higher than the oak, rising in an easy 
 flowing line. Its chief beauty, however, consists 
 
 * Generic characters. Calyx none, or deeply 4-cleft. Corolla 
 none, or of 4 petals. Perianth single, or none. Fruit a 2-celled, 
 2-seeded capsule, flattened and foliaceous at the extremity (a 
 samara). Name from ???/, separation, on account of the ease 
 with which the wood may be split.
 
 48 ASH. 
 
 in the lightness of its whole appearance. Its 
 branches at first keep close to the trunk, and form 
 acute angles with it; but as they begin to lengthen, 
 they commonly take an easy sweep ; and the loose- 
 ness of the leaves corresponding with the lightness 
 of the spray, the whole forms an elegant depending 
 foliage. Nothing can have a better effect than an 
 old Ash hanging from the corner of a wood, and 
 bringing off the heaviness of the other foliage with 
 its loose pendent branches. And yet in some soils, 
 the Ash loses much of its beauty in the decline of 
 age. The foliage becomes rare and meagre ; and 
 its branches, instead of hanging loosely, start away 
 in disagreeable forms ; thus the Ash often loses that 
 grandeur and beauty in old age, which the gene- 
 rality of trees, and particularly the oak, preserve 
 till a late period of their existence. 
 
 The Ash also falls under the displeasure of the 
 picturesque eye on another account, that is, from 
 its leaf being much tenderer than that of the oak, 
 it sooner receives impressions from the winds and 
 frosts. Instead, therefore, of contributing its tint 
 in the wane of the year among the many-coloured 
 offspring of the woods, it shrinks from the blast, 
 drops its leaf, and in each scene where it predo- 
 minates, leaves wide blanks of desolated boughs, 
 amidst foliage yet fresh and verdant. Before its 
 decay, we sometimes see its leaf tinged with a fine 
 yellow, well contrasted with the neighbouring 
 greens. But this is one of Nature's casual beau- 
 ties. Much oftener its leaf decays in a dark, 
 muddy, unpleasing tint. And yet, sometimes,
 
 ASH. 49 
 
 notwithstanding this early loss of its foliage, we 
 see the Ash, in a sheltered situation, when the 
 rains have been abundant and the season mild, 
 retain its light pleasant green, when the oak and 
 the elm, in its neighbourhood, have put on their 
 autumnal attire. The leaves of the common Ash 
 were used as fodder for cattle by the Romans, who 
 esteemed them better for that purpose than those 
 of any other tree : and in this country, in various 
 districts, they were used in the same manner. 
 
 The common Ash is indigenous to northern and 
 central Europe, to the north of Africa, and to 
 Japan. The Romans, it is said, named it Frax- 
 inus, quia facile frangitur, to express the fragile 
 nature of the wood, as the boughs of it are easily 
 broken. It is supposed that the name of Ash has 
 been given to this tree, because the bark of the 
 trunk and branches is of the colour of wood ashes. 
 Some, however, affirm that the word is derived 
 from the Saxon ^Ksc, a pike. 
 
 It is recorded in the fables of the ancients, that 
 Love first made his arrows of this wood. The dis- 
 ciples of Mars used ashen poles for lances : 
 
 A lance of tough ground- Ash the Trojan threw, 
 Rough in the rind and knotted as it grew. 
 
 Virgil says that the spears of the Amazons were 
 formed of this wood, and Homer sings the mighty 
 ashen spear of Achilles : 
 
 The noble Ash rewards the planter's toil ; 
 
 Noble, since great Achilles from her side 
 
 Took the dire spear by which brave Hector died. 
 
 RAPIN.
 
 50 ASH. 
 
 It is said, in the Edda, that the Ash was held in 
 high veneration, and that man was formed from its 
 wood. Hesiod, in like manner, deduces his brazen 
 race of men from the Ash. 
 
 The warlike Ash, that reeks with human blood. 
 
 There are many remarkable Ash-trees in various 
 parts of the country. One at Woburn Abbey mea- 
 sures at the ground twenty-three feet in circumfer- 
 ence ; at twelve inches from the ground, it is twenty 
 feet ; and fifteen feet three inches at three feet from 
 the ground. It is ninety feet high, and the ground 
 overshadowed by its branches is one hundred and 
 thirteen feet in diameter. The trunk of another, 
 near Kennety Church, in King's County, is twenty- 
 one feet ten inches in circumference, and seventeen 
 feet high, before the branches break out, which are 
 of enormous bulk. There formerly stood in the 
 churchyard of Kilmalie, in Lochaber, an Ash that 
 was considered the largest and most remarkable 
 tree in the Highlands. Lochiel and his numerous 
 kindred and clan held it in great veneration for 
 generations, which is supposed to have hastened 
 its destruction ; it being burnt to the ground by 
 the brutal soldiery in 1746. In one direction its 
 diameter was seventeen feet three inches, and the 
 cross diameter twenty-one feet ; its circumference 
 at the ground was fifty-eight feet ! 
 
 Trees raised from the keys of the Ash are deci- 
 dedly the best. The " keys," or tongues, should be 
 gathered from a young thriving tree when they 
 begin to fall (which is about the end of October),
 
 ASH. 
 
 51 
 
 Specific characters of F. excelsior. Common Ash. Leaves 
 pinnate, with lanceolate, serrated leaflets: flowers destitute of 
 calyx and corolla. In old trees, the lower branches, after bend- 
 ing downwards, curve upwards at their extremities. Flowers, 
 in loose panicles : anthers large, purple : capsules with a flat leaf- 
 like termination, generally of two cells, each containing a flat 
 oblong seed. This beautiful tree assumes its foliage later than 
 any of our trees, and loses it early. A variety occurs with simple 
 leaves, and another with pendulous branches. Flowers in April 
 and May ; grows in natural woods in many parts of Scotland.
 
 52 ASH. 
 
 laid to dry, and then sown any time betwixt that 
 and Christmas. They will remain a full year in 
 the ground before they appear ; it is therefore 
 necessary to fence them in, and wait patiently. 
 The Ash will grow exceedingly well upon almost 
 any soil, and indeed is frequently met with in 
 ruined walls and rocks, insinuating its roots into 
 the crevices of decaying buildings, covering the 
 surface with verdure, while it is instrumental in 
 destroying that which yields it support. Its 
 winged capsules are supposed to be deposited in 
 those places by the wind. 
 
 The Ash asks not a depth of fruitful mould, 
 
 But, like frugality, on little means 
 
 It thrives, and high o'er creviced ruins spreads 
 
 Its ample shade, or in the naked rock, 
 
 That nods in air, with graceful limbs depends. 
 
 BIDLAKI:. 
 
 Southey, in Don Roderick, speaks of the Ash : 
 
 amid the brook, 
 
 Gray as the stone to which it clung, half root, 
 Half trunk, the young Ash rises from the rock, 
 And there its parent lifts its lofty head, 
 And spreads its graceful boughs ; the passing wind 
 With twinkling motion lifts the silent leaves, 
 And shakes its rattling tufts. 
 
 The roots of the Ash are remarkably beautiful, 
 and often finely veined, and will take a good polish. 
 There are also certain knotty excrescences in the 
 Ash, called the brusca, and mollusca, which, when 
 cut and polished, are very beautiful. Dr. Plot, in 
 his History of Oxfordshire mentions a dining-table
 
 ASH. 53 
 
 made of them, which represented the exact figure 
 of a fish. 
 
 With the exception of that of the oak, the timber 
 of the Ash serves for the greatest variety of uses of 
 any tree in the forest. It is excellent for ploughs. 
 
 Tough, bending Ash, 
 
 Gives to the humble swain his useful plough, 
 And for the peer his prouder chariot builds. 
 
 DODSLEY. 
 
 It is also used for axle-trees, wheel-rings, harrows; 
 and also makes good oars, blocks for pulleys, &c. 
 It is of the utmost value to the husbandman for 
 carts, ladders, &c., and the branches are very ser- 
 viceable for fuel, either fresh or dry. The most 
 profitable age for felling the Ash, appears to be 
 from eighty to one hundred years. It will con- 
 tinue pushing from stools or from pollards, for 
 above one hundred years. 
 
 Though a handsome tree, it ought by no means 
 to be planted for ornament in places designed to 
 be kept neat, because the leaves fall off, with their 
 long stalks, very early in the autumn, and by their 
 litter destroy the beauty of such places ; yet, how- 
 ever unfit for planting near gravel-walks, or plea- 
 sure-grounds, it is very suitable for woods, to form 
 clumps in large parks, or to be set out as standards. 
 It should never be planted on tillage land, as the 
 dripping of the leaves injures the corn, and the 
 roots tend to draw away all nourishment from the 
 ground. Neither should it be planted near pasture 
 ground ; for if the kine eat the leaves or shoots, 
 the butter will become rank, and of little value.
 
 54 ASH. 
 
 There are many varieties of the common Ash, 
 but that with pendulous branches is probably the 
 best known : it is called the Weeping Ash, and is 
 of a heavy and somewhat unnatural appearance, 
 yet it is very generally admired. 
 
 The foliage of the Ash-tree becomes of a brown 
 colour in October. 
 
 Like leaves on trees the race of man is found 
 
 Now green in youth, now withering on the ground ; 
 
 Another race the following spring supplies, 
 
 They fall successive, and successive rise : 
 
 So generations in their course decay, 
 
 So flourish these, when those are past away. 
 
 POPE. 
 
 There are numerous species of the Ash, but 
 these are so rarely to be met with in this country, 
 that it is not necessary to particularize any of 
 them.
 
 THE BEECH-TREE. 
 
 [Fagus.* Nat. Ord. Amentiferee ; Linn. Moncec. Poly.} 
 
 THE Common Beech (F. sylvatica), is supposed to 
 be indigenous to England, but not to Scotland or 
 Ireland. According to Evelyn, it is a beautiful 
 as well as valuable tree, growing generally to 
 a greater stature than the Ash : though Gilpin 
 observes, that it does not deserve to be ranked 
 
 * Generic characters. 'Barren flowers in a roundish catkin. 
 Perianth campanulate, divided into 5 or 6 segments. Stamens 
 8 to 15. Fertile dowers, 2 together, within a 4-lobed prickly 
 involucre. Stigma 3. Ovaries 3-cornered and 3-celled. Nut 
 by abortion 1 or 2-seeded. Named from fatfa, to eat.
 
 56 BEECH. 
 
 among timber-trees ; its wood being of a soft, 
 spongy nature, sappy, and alluring to the worm. 
 Neither will Gilpin allow that, in point of pic- 
 turesque beauty, it should rank much higher than 
 in point of utility. Its skeleton, compared with 
 that of the oak, the ash, or the elm, he says, is 
 very deficient ; yet its trunk is often highly pic- 
 turesque, being frequently studded with bold knobs 
 and projections, and having sometimes a sort of 
 irregular fluting about it, which is very character- 
 istic. It has another peculiarity, also, which is 
 somewhat pleasing that of a number of stems 
 arising from the root. The bark, too, wears often 
 a pleasant hue. It is naturally of a dingy olive ; 
 but it is always overspread, in patches, with a 
 variety of mosses and lichens, which are commonly 
 of a lighter tint in the upper parts, and of a deep 
 velvet green towards the root. Its smoothness, 
 also, contrasts agreeably with these rougher ap- 
 pendages. No bark tempts the lover so much to 
 make it the depository of his mistress's name. In 
 days of yore, it seems to have commonly served as 
 the lover's tablet. In Dryden's translation of 
 Virgil's Eclogues, we find the following : 
 
 Or shall I rather the sad verse repeat, 
 Which on the Beech's bark I lately writ 
 I writ, and sang betwixt. 
 
 There seems to have been connected with this cus- 
 tom the curious idea, that as the tree increased in 
 growth, so would the words, and also the hopes 
 expressed thereon : 
 
 The rind of every plant her name shall know, 
 And as the rind extends the love shall grow.
 
 BEECH. 57 
 
 Our own Thomson, too, narrates that Musidora 
 carved, on the soft bark of a Beech-tree, the con- 
 fession of her attachment to Damon : 
 
 At length, a tender calm, 
 Hushed, by degrees, the tumult of her soul ; 
 And on the spreading Beech, that o'er the stream 
 Incumbent hung, she, with the sylvan pen 
 Of rural lovers, this confession carved, 
 Which soon her Damon kissed with weeping joy. 
 
 The branches of the Beech are fantastically 
 wreathed and disproportioned, twining awkwardly 
 among one another, and running often into long 
 unvaried lines, without any of that strength and 
 firmness which we admire in the oak, or of that 
 easy simplicity which pleases in the ash : in short, 
 we rarely see a Beech well ramified. In full leaf, 
 it is unequally pleasing ; it has the appearance of 
 an overgrown bush. Virgil, indeed, was right in 
 choosing the Beech for its shade. No tree forms 
 so complete a roof. If you wish either for shade 
 or shelter, you will find it best 
 
 Beneath the shade which Beechen boughs diffuse. 
 
 Its bushiness imparts a great heaviness to the tree, 
 which is always a deformity : 
 
 A gloomy grove of Beech. 
 
 Sometimes a light branch issues from a heavy mass ; 
 and though these are often beautiful in themselves, 
 they are seldom in harmony with the tree. They 
 distinguish, however, its character, which will be 
 best seen by comparing it with the elm. The latter
 
 58 BEECH. 
 
 has a rounder, the former a more pointed foliage ; 
 but the elm is always in harmony with itself. 
 Gilpin can see few beauties in the Beech ; but, in 
 conclusion, he admits that it sometimes has its 
 beauty, and often its use. In distance, it preserves 
 the depth of the forest, and, even on the spot, in 
 contrast, it is frequently a choice accompaniment. 
 In the corner of a landscape, too, when a thick 
 heavy tree is wanted, or a part of one, at least, 
 which is often necessary, nothing answers the pur- 
 pose like the Beech. 
 
 If we would really appreciate the beauty of this 
 tree, we should walk in a wood of them. In its 
 juvenility, contrary to the generality of trees, the 
 Beech is decidedly the most pleasing, not having 
 acquired that heaviness which Gilpin so loudly 
 complains of. A light, airy young Beech, with its 
 spiry branches hanging in easy forms, is generally 
 beautiful. And, occasionally, the forest Beech, in 
 a dry hungry soil, preserves the lightness of youth 
 in the maturity of age. 
 
 We must, however, mention its autumnal hues, 
 which are often beautiful. Sometimes it is dressed 
 in modest brown, but commonly in glowing orange ; 
 and in both dresses its harmony with the grove is 
 pleasing. About the end of September, when the 
 leaf begins to change, it makes a happy contrast 
 with the oak, whose foliage is yet verdant. Some 
 of the finest oppositions of tint which, perhaps, 
 the forest can furnish, arise from the union of oak 
 and Beech. We often see a wonderful effect from 
 this combination ; and yet, accommodating as its
 
 BEECH. 
 
 59 
 
 leaf is in landscape, on handling, it feels as if it 
 were fabricated with metallic rigour. 
 
 The leaves are of a pleasant green, and many 
 
 Specific character. F. sykdtica. Common Beech. Leaves 
 ovate, indistinctly serrate, smooth, ciliate. A large tree, varying 
 from 60 to 100 feet in height, with smooth bark and spreading 
 branches. Flowers in April and May; grows in woods, par- 
 ticularly on calcareous soils.
 
 60 BEECH. 
 
 of them remain on the branches during winter. 
 In France and Switzerland, when dried, they are 
 very commonly used for beds, or, instead of straw, 
 for mattresses. Its fruit consists of "two nuts 
 joined at the base, and covered with an almost 
 globular involucre, which has soft spines on the 
 outside, but within is delicately smooth and silky." 
 Beech mast, as it is called, was formerly used for 
 fattening swine and deer. It affords also a sweet 
 oil, which the poor in France are said to eat most 
 willingly. 
 
 The Beech, of oily nuts 
 Prolific. 
 
 The Beech abounds especially along the great 
 ridge of chalk-hills which passes from Dorsetshire 
 through Wiltshire, Hampshire, Surrey, Sussex, 
 and Kent ; trenching out into Berkshire, Bucking- 
 hamshire, and Hertfordshire ; and it is also found 
 on the Stroudwater and Cotswold hills in Glouces- 
 tershire, and on the banks of the Wye in Here- 
 fordshire and Monmouthshire. It is particularly 
 abundant in Buckinghamshire, where it forms 
 extensive forests of great magnificence and beauty. 
 It is seldom found mixed with other trees, even 
 when they are coeval with it in point of age. It 
 is rarely found in soil that is not more or less cal- 
 careous ; and it most commonly abounds on chalk. 
 The finest trees in England are said to grow in 
 Hampshire ; and there is a curious legend respect- 
 ing those in the forest of St. Leonard, in that 
 county. This forest, which was the abode of St. 
 Leonard, abounds in noble Beech-trees ; and the
 
 BEECH. 61 
 
 saint was particularly fond of reposing under their 
 shade ; but, when he did so, he was annoyed during 
 the day by vipers, and at night by the singing of 
 the nightingale. Accordingly, he prayed that they 
 might be removed ; and such was the efficacy of 
 his prayers, that since his time, in this forest, 
 
 " The viper has ne'er been known to sting, 
 Or the nightingale e'er heard to sing." 
 
 The wood of this tree, from its softness, is easy 
 of being worked, and is consequently a favourite 
 with the turner. Beechen bowls, curiously carved, 
 were highly prized by the ancient shepherds. In- 
 deed, we learn that their use was almost universal : 
 
 Hence, in the world's best years, the humble shed 
 Was happily and fully furnished : 
 
 Beech made their chests, their beds, and the joined stools ; 
 Beech made the board, the platters, and the bowls. 
 
 And it is still used for dishes, trays, trenchers, &c. 
 And Dodsley informs us that it was used for the 
 sounding-boards of musical instruments. 
 
 The soft Beech 
 
 And close-grained box employ the turner's wheel ; 
 And with a thousand implements supply 
 Mechanic skill. 
 
 We cannot willingly conclude this article without 
 introducing Wordsworth's beautiful description of 
 a solitary Beech-tree, which stood within "a stately 
 fir-grove," where he was not loth 
 
 To sympathize with vulgar coppice birds, 
 That, for protection from the nipping blast,
 
 62 BEECH. 
 
 Thither repaired. A single Beech-tree grew 
 Within this grove of firs, and in the fork 
 Of that one Beech appeared a thrush's nest : 
 A last year's nest, conspicuously built 
 At such small elevation from the ground, 
 As gave sure sign that they who in that house 
 Of nature and of love had made their home, 
 Amid the fir-trees all the summer long, 
 Dwelt in a tranquil spot. 
 
 The principal varieties of the Beech are : 
 
 1. Purpurea, the purple Beech, which has the 
 buds and young shoots of a rose colour ; the leaves, 
 when half developed, of a cherry red, and of so 
 dark a purple, when fully matured, as to appear 
 almost black. 
 
 2. Foliis variegatis, having the leaves variegated 
 with white and yellow, interspersed with some 
 streaks of red and purple. 
 
 3. Pendulata, the weeping Beech, having the 
 branches beautifully pendent.
 
 THE BIRCH-TREE. 
 
 [Betula.* Nat. Ord. Amentiferce ; Linn. Moncec. Poly.] 
 
 most beautiful 
 Of forest trees, the lady of the woods. 
 
 COLERIDGE. 
 
 THE common Birch (B. alba) is a native of the 
 colder regions of Europe and Asia, being found 
 from Iceland to Mount Etna ; in Siberia, as far as 
 
 * Generic characters. Barren flowers in a cylindrical catkin 
 with ternate scales. Perianth none. Stamens 10 or 12. Fertile 
 flowers in an oblong catkin, with 3-lobed, 3-flowered scales. 
 Perianth none. Styles 2, filiform. Fruit an oblong nut, deci- 
 duous, winged, 1-celled. Kernel solitary.
 
 64 BIRCH. 
 
 the Altaic mountains ; and also in the Himalayas ; 
 but not in Africa. It is known, at first sight, by 
 the silvery whiteness of its bark, the comparative 
 smallness of its leaves, and the lightness and airi- 
 ness of its whole appearance. It is admirably cal- 
 culated to diversify the scene, forming a pleasing 
 variety among other trees, either in summer or 
 winter. In summer it is covered over with beau- 
 tiful small leaves, and the stem being generally 
 marked with brown, yellow, and silvery touches 
 of a peculiarly picturesque character, as they are 
 characteristic objects of imitation for the pencil, 
 forms an agreeable contrast with the dark-green 
 hue of the foliage, as it is waved to and fro by 
 every breath of air. Only the stem and larger 
 branches, however, have this varied colouring : 
 the spray is of a deep brown, which is the colour, 
 too, of the larger branches, where the external 
 rind is peeled off. As the tree grows old, its bark 
 becomes rough and furrowed ; it loses all its varied 
 tints, and assumes a uniform ferruginous hue. 
 
 The Birch is altogether raised from roots or 
 suckers, which, being planted at intervals of four 
 or five feet, in small twigs, will speedily rise to 
 trees, provided the soil suit them, and this can- 
 not well be too barren or spongy ; for it will thrive 
 in dry and wet, sandy or stony places, in marshes 
 or bogs. 
 
 In ancient times, the Birch, whose timber is 
 almost worthless, according to Evelyn, afforded 
 the Old English warriors arrows, bolts, and shafts ; 
 and in modern times, its charcoal forms a principal
 
 BIRCH. 
 
 65 
 
 Specific characters of B. alba. Leaves ovate, deltoid, acute, 
 unequally serrate, nearly smooth. A moderately-sized tree, 
 seldom exceeding fifty feet in height, with a trunk of from twelve 
 to eighteen inches in diameter, with a white outer bark, peeling 
 transversely, the twigs very slender, and more or less drooping. 
 Flowers in April and May ; grows abundantly in extensive natural 
 woods in various parts of the country, particularly in the High- 
 lands of Scotland.
 
 66 BIRCH. 
 
 ingredient in the manufacture of gunpowder. In 
 spring, the Birch abounds in juices, and from 
 these the rustic housewife makes an agreeable and 
 wholesome wine : as Warton sings : 
 
 And though she boasts no charm divine, 
 Yet she can carve, and make Birch wine. 
 
 Pomona's bard says, also, that 
 
 Even afflictive Birch, 
 Cursed by unlettered idle youth, distils 
 A limpid current from her wounded bark, 
 Profuse of nursing sap. 
 
 We are informed that a Birch-tree has been 
 known to yield, in the course of the season, a 
 quantity of sap equal to its own weight. It is 
 obtained by inserting, in the early part of spring, 
 a fosset made of an elder stick, with the pith taken 
 out ; and setting vessels, or hanging bladders, to 
 receive the liquor. The sooner it is boiled the 
 better ; so that, in order to procure a sufficient 
 quantity in a short time, a number of trees should 
 be bored on the same day, and two or three fossets 
 inserted in each of the larger trees. Sugar is now 
 commonly used to sweeten it, in the proportion of 
 from two to four pounds to each gallon of liquor. 
 This is allowed to simmer so long as any scum 
 rises, which must be cleared as fast as it appears. 
 It is then poured into a tub to cool, after which it 
 is tunned into a cask, and bunged up when it has 
 done working ; and is ready to be drunk when a 
 year old. 
 
 As before remarked, the timber of the Birch is
 
 BIRCH. 67 
 
 of little value ; though in the Highlands, where 
 pine is not to be had, it is used for all purposes. 
 Its stems form the rafters of cabins ; " wattles of 
 the boughs are the walls and the door ; and even 
 the chests and boxes are of this rude basket-work." 
 Light and strong canoes were formerly made of 
 this timber in Britain, and also in other parts of 
 Europe ; and are even now in the northern parts 
 of America. It also makes good fuel; and in 
 Lancashire great quantities of besoms are made 
 for exportation from the slender twigs. The bark 
 is used in Russia and Poland for the covering of 
 houses, instead of slates or tiles ; and anciently 
 the inner white cuticle and silken bark were used 
 for writing-paper. Coleridge describes 
 
 A curious picture, with a master's haste 
 Sketched on a strip of pinky-silver skin 
 Peeled from the Birchen bark. 
 
 There is no part of this tree, however, that is 
 not useful for some purpose or other. Even its 
 leaves are used by the Finland women, in forming 
 a soft elastic couch for the cradle of infancy. 
 
 Gilpin particularly notes a beautiful variety of 
 the White Birch, B. peiidula, sometimes called the 
 Lady Birch, or the Weeping Birch. Its spray being 
 slenderer and^longer than the common sort, forms 
 an elegant pensile foliage, like the weeping willow, 
 and, like it, is put in motion by the smallest breeze. 
 When agitated, it is well adapted to characterize 
 a storm, or to perform any office in landscape 
 which is expected from the weeping willow. This 
 is agreeably described in Wilson's Isle of Palms :
 
 68 BIRCH. 
 
 on the green slope 
 Of a romantic glade we sate us down, 
 Amid the fragrance of the yellow broom, 
 While o'er our heads the Weeping Birch-tree streamed 
 Its branches, arching like a fountain shower. 
 
 " A Weeping Birch, at Balloghie, in the parish 
 of Birse, in Aberdeenshire, in 1792, measured five 
 feet in circumference ; but it carried nearly this 
 degree of thickness, with a clear stem, up to the 
 height of about fifty feet, and it was judged to be 
 about one hundred feet high."
 
 THE CEDAR OF LEBANON. 
 
 [Cedrus Libani. Nat. Ord. Coniferce; Linn. Pinus C. Moncec. 
 Monand.] 
 
 On high the Cedar 
 
 Stoops, like a monarch to his people bending, 
 And casts his sweets around him. 
 
 BAEEY CORNWALL. 
 
 THE Cedar of Lebanon is a majestic evergreen 
 tree, generally from fifty to eighty feet in height, 
 extending wide its boughs and branches ; and its 
 sturdy arms grow in time so weighty, as frequently 
 to bend the very stem and main shaft. Phillips 
 observes, that " this noble tree has a dignity and 
 a general striking character of growth so peculiar 
 to itself, that no other tree can possibly be mis-
 
 70 CEDAR. 
 
 taken for it. It is instantly recognized by its wide- 
 extending branches, that incline their extremities 
 downwards, exhibiting a most beautiful upper sur- 
 face, like so many verdant banks, which, when 
 agitated by the wind, play in the most graceful 
 manner, forming one of the most elegant, as well 
 as one of the most noble, objects of the vegetable 
 kingdom." 
 
 The Cedar of Lebanon was formerly supposed 
 to grow nowhere but on that mountain ; but it was 
 discovered, in 1832, on several mountains of the 
 same group, and the probability is, that it extends 
 over the whole of the Tauri mountains. It has 
 also been discovered on the Atlas range of northern 
 Africa. 
 
 It is generally spoken of as a lofty tree. Milton, 
 in speaking of it, says, 
 
 Insuperable height of loftiest shade. 
 
 And Rowe, in his Lucan, alludes to the "tall 
 Cedar's head ;" and Spenser speaks of the " Cedar 
 tall;" and Churchill sings, 
 
 The Cedar, whose top mates the highest cloud. 
 
 Notwithstanding these poetical authorities for the 
 loftiness of the Cedar, we are assured by Evelyn, 
 and others, that it is not lofty, but is rather re- 
 markable for its wide-spreading branches. In 
 Prior's Solomon, we read of 
 
 The spreading Cedar that an age had stood, 
 Supreme of trees, and mistress of the wood, 
 Cut down and carved, my shining roof adorns, 
 And Lebanon his ruined honour mourns.
 
 CEDAR. 71 
 
 Mason describes it as far-spreading : 
 
 Cedars here, 
 
 Coeval with the sky-crowned mountain's self, 
 Spread wide their giant arms. 
 
 The prophet Ezekiel has given us the fullest 
 description of the Cedar : " Behold the Assyrian 
 was a Cedar in Lebanon, with fair branches, and 
 with a shadowing shroud, and of a high stature ; 
 and his top was among the thick boughs. His 
 boughs were multiplied, and his branches became 
 long. The fir-trees were not like his boughs, nor 
 the chestnut-trees like his branches, nor any tree 
 in the garden of God like unto him in beauty." 
 
 In this description, two of the principal charac- 
 teristics of the Cedar are marked. 
 
 The first is, the multiplicity and length of his 
 branches. Few trees divide so many fair branches 
 from the main stem, or spread over so large a com- 
 pass of ground. His boughs are multiplied, as 
 Ezekiel says, and his branches become long, which 
 David calls spreading abroad. 
 
 The second characteristic is his shadowing shroud. 
 No tree in the. forest is more remarkable than the 
 Cedar for its close-woven leafy canopy. Ezekiel's 
 Cedar is marked as a tree of full and perfect 
 growth, from the circumstance of its top being 
 among the thick boughs. Almost every young 
 tree, and particularly every young Cedar, has 
 what is called a leading branch or two, which con- 
 tinue spiring above the rest till the tree has attained 
 its full size ; then the tree becomes, in the language
 
 72 CEDAR. 
 
 of the nurseryman, clump-beaded: but, in the lan- 
 guage of eastern sublimity its top is among the 
 thick boughs ; that is, no distinction of any spiry 
 head, or leading branch, appears; the head and 
 the branches are all mixed together. This is 
 generally, in all trees, the state in which they are 
 most perfect and most beautiful. Such is the 
 grandeur and form of the Cedar of Lebanon. Its 
 mantling foliage, or shadowing shroud, as Ezekiel 
 calls it, is its greatest beauty, which arises from 
 the horizontal growth of its branches forming a 
 kind of sweeping, irregular penthouse. And when 
 to the idea of beauty that of strength is added, by 
 the pyramidal form of the stem, and the robustness 
 of the limbs, the tree is complete in all its beauty 
 and majesty. In these climates, indeed, we cannot 
 expect to see the Cedar in such perfection. The 
 forest of Lebanon is, perhaps, the only part of the 
 world where its growth is perfect ; yet we may, in 
 some degree, conceive its beauty and majesty, 
 from the paltry resemblances of it at this distance 
 from its native soil. In its youth, it is often with 
 us a vigorous thriving plant; and if the leading 
 branch is not bound to a pole (as many people 
 deform their Cedars), but left to take its natural 
 course, and guide the stem after it in some irre- 
 gular waving line, it is often an object of great 
 beauty. But, in its maturer age, the beauty of 
 the English Cedar is generally gone ; it becomes 
 shrivelled, deformed, and stunted ; its body in- 
 creases, but its limbs shrink and wither. Thus it 
 never gives us its two leading qualities together.
 
 CEDAR. 
 
 73 
 
 In its youth, we have some idea of its beauty, with- 
 out its strength ; and in its advanced age, we have 
 
 some idea of its strength, without its beauty. The 
 imagination, therefore, by joining together the two 
 different periods of its age in this climate, may 
 form some conception of the grandeur of the Cedar
 
 74 CEDAR. 
 
 in its own climate, where its strength and beauty 
 are united. 
 
 The following particular botanical description 
 of this celebrated tree, is given bj Loudon in his 
 Arboretum : 
 
 " The leaves are generally of a dark grass green, straight, about 
 one inch long, slender, nearly cylindrical, tapering to a point, and 
 are on foot-stalks. The leaves, which remain two years on the 
 branches, are at first produced in tufts ; the buds from which 
 they spring haying the appearance of abortive shoots, which, 
 instead of becoming branches, only produce a tuft of leaves 
 pressed closely together in a whorl. These buds continue, for 
 several years in succession, to produce every spring a new tuft 
 of leaves, placed above those of the preceding year; and thus 
 each bud may be said to make a slight growth annually, but so 
 slowly, that it can scarcely be perceived to have advanced a line 
 in length ; hence, many of these buds may be found on old trees, 
 which have eight or ten rings, each ring being the growth of one 
 year ; and sometimes they ramify a little. At length, sooner or 
 later, they produce the male and female flowers. The male cat- 
 kins are simple, solitary, of a reddish hue, about two inches long, 
 terminal, and turning upwards. They are composed of a great 
 number of sessile, imbricated stamens, on a common axis. Each 
 stamen is furnished with an anther with two cells, which open 
 lengthwise by their lower part ; and each terminates in a sort of 
 crest, pointing upwards. The pollen is yellowish, and is pro- 
 duced in great abundance. The female catkins are short, erect, 
 roundish, and rather oval ; they change, after fecundation, into 
 ovate oblong cones, which become, at maturity, from two and a 
 half to i.ve inches long. The cones are of a grayish brown, witli 
 a plum -coloured or pinkish bloom when young, which they lose 
 as they approach maturity; they are composed of a series of 
 coriaceous imbricated scales, laid flat, and firmly pressed against 
 each other in an oblique spiral direction. The scales are very 
 broad, obtuse, and truncated at the summit ; very thin, and 
 slightly denticulated at the edge ; and reddish and shining on the 
 flat part. Each scale contains two seeds, each surmounted by a 
 very thin membranous wing, of which the upper part is very 
 broad, and the lower narrow, enveloping the greater part of the
 
 CEDAR. 75 
 
 seed. The cones are very firmly attached to the branches ; they 
 neither open nor fall off, as in the other Abietinae ; but, when 
 ripe, the scales become loose, and drop gradually, leaving the 
 axis of the cone still fixed on the branch. The seeds are of an 
 irregular, but somewhat triangular form, nearly one and a half 
 inch long, of a lightish brown colour. Every part of the cone 
 abounds with resin, which sometimes exudes from between the 
 scales. The female catkins are produced in October, but the 
 cones do not appear till the end of the second year ; and, if not 
 gathered, they will remain attached to the tree for several years. 
 The Cedar of Lebanon does not begin to produce cones till it is 
 twenty-five or thirty years old ; and, even then, the seeds in such 
 cones are generally imperfect ; and it is not till after several years 
 of bearing, that seeds from the cones of young trees can be de- 
 pended upon. Some Cedars produce only male catkins, and 
 these in immense abundance ; others, only female catkins ; and 
 some both. There are trees of vigorous growth at various places, 
 which, though upwards of one hundred years old, have scarcely 
 ever produced either male or female catkins. The duration of 
 the Cedar is supposed to extend to several centuries." 
 
 The Cedar is cultivated from seeds and berries. 
 Any climate suits it, provided it meet with a 
 sandy soil ; though it grows better in cold than in 
 warm climates, as its cultivation is more successful 
 in Scotland than in England. 
 
 The peculiar property of its timber is extremely 
 remarkable, being declared proof against all putre- 
 faction of human or other bodies, serving better 
 than all other ingredients or compositions for em- 
 balming ; thus, by a singular contradiction, giving 
 life as it were to the dead, and destroying the worms 
 which are living, as it does, where any goods are 
 kept in chests and presses of the wood except 
 woollen cloths and furs, which, it is observed, they 
 destroy. Its preservative power is attributed to 
 the bitterness of its resinous juices. The ancients,
 
 76 CEDAR. 
 
 in praising any literary work, would say, "It is 
 worthy of being cased in Cedar." It is also very 
 durable, it being on record that in the Temple of 
 Apollo, at Utica, there was found timber of near 
 two thousand years old. 
 
 The most remarkable existing Cedars in this 
 country are at Chelsea, at Enfield, at Chiswick 
 House, at Sion House, at Strathfieldsaye, at Char- 
 ley Wood near Rickmansworth, at Wilton, near 
 Salisbury and at Osgood Hanbury's near Cogges- 
 hall. The largest of these, at Strathfieldsaye, is 
 one hundred and eight feet in height ; diameter of 
 the trunk, three feet, and diameter of the head, 
 seventy-four feet.
 
 THE SWEET CHESTNUT-TREE. 
 
 [Castanea vulgaris. Nat. Ord. Amentiferee ; Linn. Moruzc. 
 Poly.} 
 
 THE Sweet Chestnut, so called with reference to 
 the fruit, in contradistinction to that of the Horse- 
 Chestnut, which is bitter, is also called the Spanish 
 Chestnut, because the best chestnuts for the table 
 are imported from Spain. In favourable situations, 
 it becomes a magnificent tree, though it never 
 attains a height, or diameter of head, equal to that 
 of the oak. The trunk generally rises erect, form- 
 ing, in all cases, a massy column of wood, in pro- 
 portion to the expansion of the head, or the height
 
 78 SWEET CHESTNUT. 
 
 of the tree. The branches form nearly the same 
 angle with the trunk as those of the oak ; though in 
 thriving trees the angle is somewhat more acute. 
 If planted in woods, by the road-side, and left un- 
 trimmed, as they should be, they will be feathered 
 to the bottom, and will in summer, in addition to 
 their beautiful appearance, hide the naked stems 
 of other trees which are considered disagreeable 
 objects ; while in autumn, the golden hue of the 
 leaves will heighten the mellow and pleasing effect 
 produced in the woodlands by the variety of hues 
 in the foliage of different trees, which contrast and 
 blend together in one harmonious and pictorial 
 aspect. 
 
 The Chestnut has been considered indigenous ; 
 but this is the more doubtful, that the tree rarely 
 ripens its fruit, except in a climate that will ripen 
 the grape in the open air. On old trees, the leaves 
 are from four to six inches long ; but on young and 
 vigorous shoots, they are often nearly twelve inches 
 in length, and from three to four inches in breadth. 
 They are of a rich shining green above, and paler 
 beneath. The flowers are produced on the wood 
 of the current year, and are ranged along the 
 common stalk, in lateral sessile tufts. The rate 
 of growth of young trees, in the neighbourhood of 
 London, averages from two to three feet for the 
 first ten or twelve years. The tree will attain the 
 height of from sixty to eighty feet in about sixty 
 years ; but the tree will live for several centuries 
 afterwards, and produce abundance of fruit. The 
 finest trees in England are said to stand on the
 
 SWEET CHESTNUT. 
 
 79 
 
 * Generic characters of the Castanets. Barren flowers in a 
 long cylindrical spike. Perianth 6-cleft. Stamens 8 to 20. 
 Fertile flowers, 3 within a 4-lobed muricated involucre. Stig- 
 mas 3 to 8. Ovary 5 to 8-celled. Nuts 1 or 2, within the 
 enlarged prickly involucre. 
 
 Specific characters of C. vulgaris. Leaves lanceolate, acutely 
 serrate, smooth beneath; prickles compound and entangled;
 
 80 SWEET CHESTNUT. 
 
 banks of the Tamer, in Cornwall ; and at Beech- 
 worth Castle, in Surrey, there are seventy or eighty 
 Chestnuts, measuring from twelve to eighteen or 
 twenty feet in girth, and some of them very pic- 
 turesque in form. One, on Earl Durie's estate of 
 Tortworth, in Gloucestershire, is proved to have 
 stood ever since 1150, and to have been then re- 
 markable for its age and size. 
 
 The Chestnut is cultivated best by sowing and 
 setting : the nuts must, however, be left to sweat, 
 and then be covered with sand ; after having been 
 thus heated for a month, plunge the nuts in water, 
 and reject the swimmers ; then dry them for thirty 
 days, and repeat the process. In November, set 
 them as you would beans, taking care to do it in 
 their husks. This tree will thrive in almost all 
 soils and situations, though it succeeds best in 
 rich loamy land. Nothing will thrive beneath its 
 shade. Among mast-bearing trees this is said to 
 be the most valuable ; since the nuts, when ripened 
 in southern climates, are considered delicacies for 
 princes. In this country, however, where they 
 rarely come to maturity, they fall to the lot of 
 hogs and squirrels. The trees cultivated for fruit 
 are generally grafted; and, in several parts of 
 South Europe, the peasantry are mainly supported 
 by bread made of the nut-flour. In Italy, in 
 Virgil's time, they ate them with milk and cheese : 
 
 Chestnuts, and curds and cream shall be our fare. 
 
 And again, in his second Pastoral, thus translated 
 by Dryden :
 
 SWEET CHESTNUT. 81 
 
 Myself will search our planted grounds at home, 
 For downy peaches and the glossy plum ; 
 And thrash the Chestnuts in the neighbouring grove, 
 Such as my Amaryllis used to love. 
 
 The timber of the Chestnut is strong and very 
 durable ; but it is often found decayed at the core, 
 and, in working, is very brittle. The wood is pre- 
 ferred for the manufacture of liquor tubs and 
 vessels, as it does not shrink after being once 
 seasoned. This tree is now, however, chiefly grown 
 for hop-poles, which are the straightest, tallest, 
 and most durable. Though cut at an early age 
 for this purpose, the trees are frequently orna- 
 ments of our parks and pleasure-grounds.
 
 THE ELM-TREE. 
 
 [Ulmus.* Nat. Ord. Ulmacece; Linn. Pentand. Digy.] 
 
 There stood tlie Elme, whose shade, so mildly dim, 
 Doth nourish all that groweth under him. 
 
 W. BROWNE. 
 
 THE Common Elm (U, campestris), after having 
 assumed the dignity and hoary roughness of age, 
 is not excelled in grandeur and beauty by any of 
 its brethren. In this latter stage, it partakes so 
 much of the character of the oak, that it is easily 
 
 * Generic characters of the Ulmi. Calyx campanulate, infe- 
 rior, 4 to 5-cleft, persistent. Corolla none. Fruit a membran- 
 ous, compressed, winged capsule (a samara), 1-seeded.
 
 ELM. 83 
 
 mistaken for it ; though the oak such an oak as 
 is strongly marked with its peculiar character can 
 never be mistaken for the Elm. " This defect, 
 however," says Gilpin, " appears chiefly in the 
 skeleton of the Elm. In full foliage, its character 
 is better marked. No tree is better adapted to 
 receive grand masses of light. In this respect, it is 
 superior both to the oak and the ash. Nor is its 
 foliage, shadowing as it is, of the heavy kind. Its 
 leaves are small, and this gives it a natural light- 
 ness ; it commonly hangs loosely, and is in general 
 very picturesque." 
 
 The Elm is not frequently met with in woods or 
 forests, but is more commonly planted in avenues 
 or other artificial situations. Cowper very accu- 
 rately sketches the variety of form in the Elm, 
 and alludes to the different sites where they are to 
 be found. In the Task, he first introduces them 
 rearing their lofty heads by the river's brink : 
 
 There, fast rooted in his bank, 
 Stand, never overlooked, our favourite Elms, 
 That screen the herdsman's solitary hut. 
 
 Then he gives us an enchanting scene, where a 
 lowly cot is surrounded by them : 
 
 'Tis perched upon the green hill-top, but close 
 Environed with a ring of branching Elms, 
 That overhang the thatch. 
 
 He then introduces us to a grove of Elms : 
 
 The grove receives us next ; 
 Between the upright shafts of whose tall Elms 
 We may discern the thrasher at his task.
 
 84 ELM. 
 
 The Elm is frequently referred to by the poets. 
 Wordsworth thus speaks of a grove of them : 
 
 Upon that open level stood a grove, 
 The wished-for port to which my course was bound. 
 Thither I came, and there, amid the gloom 
 Spread by a brotherhood of lofty Elms, 
 Appeared a roofless hut. 
 
 In The Church Yard among the Mountains, he 
 introduces one that seems to be the pride of the 
 village : 
 
 A wide-spread Elm 
 
 Stands in our valley, named the JOYFUL TKEE ; 
 From dateless usage which our peasants hold 
 Of giving welcome to the first of May, 
 By dances round its trunk. 
 
 And again : 
 
 The JOYFUL ET M, 
 
 Around whose trunk the maidens dance in May. 
 
 Dr. Hunter supposes that the Elm is a native of 
 England. Philips, however, does not agree with 
 this ; but, admitting that the tree was known in 
 England as early as the Saxon times, observes, 
 that this does not prove the Elm to be indigenous 
 to the soil, confuted as it is by Nature, which 
 rarely allows it to propagate its species in this 
 country according to her common rules ; while in 
 other countries, where the seed falls, young plants 
 spring up as commonly as the oaks in Britain. 
 
 In favourable situations, the common Elm be- 
 comes a large timber tree, of considerable beauty 
 and utility, naturally growing upright. It is the 
 first tree to put forth its light and cheerful green
 
 ELM. 
 
 in spring, a tint which contrasts agreeably with 
 the foliage of the oak, whose leaf has generally, 
 
 Specific characters of U. campestris. Leaves rhomboid-ovate, 
 acuminate, wedge-shaped, and oblique at the base, always scabrous 
 above, doubly and irregularly serrated, downy beneath ; serratures 
 incurved. Branches wiry, slightly corky ; when young, bright 
 brown, pubescent. Fruit oblong, deeply cloven, naked.
 
 86 ELM. 
 
 in its early state, more of an olive cast. We see 
 them often in fine harmony together about the end 
 of April and the beginning of May. The Elm is 
 also frequently found planted with the Scotch fir. 
 In spring, its light green is very discordant with 
 the gloomy hue of its companion ; but as the year 
 advances, the Elm leaf takes a darker tint, and 
 unites in harmony with the fir. In autumn also, 
 the yellow leaf of the Elm mixes as kindly with 
 the orange of the beech, the ochre of the oak, and 
 many of the other fading hues of the wood. 
 
 The Elm was considered by the ancients of 
 Eastern nations as a funereal tree, as well as the 
 cypress. It is celebrated in the Iliad, for having 
 formed a hasty bridge, by which Achilles escaped 
 the Xauthus, when that river, by its overflowing, 
 placed him in danger of being carried away. It 
 has been suggested that the Romans probably in- 
 troduced it, and planted it on the graves of their 
 departed heroes. It was well known among the 
 Latins. Virgil says, that the husbandmen bent 
 the young Elm, whilst growing, into the proper 
 shape, for their buris or plough-tail : 
 
 Young Elms with early force in copses bow, 
 Fit for the figure of the crooked plough. 
 
 DKYDEN. 
 
 The Romans esteemed the Elm to be the na- 
 tural support and friend of the vine ; and the feel- 
 ing that a strong sympathy subsisted between 
 plants, led them never to plant one without the 
 other. The gravest of Latin authors speak of the
 
 ELM. 87 
 
 Elm as husband of the vine ; and Pliny tells us, 
 that that Elm is a poor spouse that does not sup- 
 port three vines. This mode of marrying the vine 
 to the Elm gave rise to the elegant insinuation of 
 Vertumnus to Pomona, whose story may be found 
 in Ovid : 
 
 " If that fair Elm," he cried, " alone should stand, 
 No grapes would glow with gold, and tempt the hand : 
 Or, if that vine without her Elm should grow, 
 'T would creep a poor neglected shrub below." 
 
 This union of the vine and the Elm is constantly 
 alluded to by the poets. Tasso, as translated by 
 Fairfax, says, 
 
 The married Elm fell with his fruitful Tine. 
 
 The lofty Elm with creeping vines o'erspread. 
 
 OVID. 
 
 Milton, narrating the occupations of Adam and 
 Eve before the fall, sings, 
 
 They led the vine 
 
 To wed her Elm ; she, spoused, about him twines 
 Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
 Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn 
 His barren leaves. 
 
 And Beaumont says, 
 
 The amorous vine 
 Did with the fan* and straight-limbed Elm entwine. 
 
 And Wordsworth, in that beautiful reflection, the 
 Pillar of Trajan, speaks of it : 
 
 So, pleased with purple clusters to entwine 
 Some lofty Elm-tree, mounts the daring vine.
 
 CO ELM. 
 
 There is a beautiful group of Elms at Monge- 
 well, Oxon, which are in full vigour. The princi- 
 pal one is seventy-nine feet high, fourteen feet in 
 girth at three feet from the ground, sixty-five in 
 extent of boughs, and contains two hundred and 
 fifty-six feet of solid timber. Strutt informs us, 
 that, in 1830, Dr. Barrington, the venerable Bishop 
 of Durham, when in his ninetieth year, erected an 
 urn in the midst of their shade, to the memory of 
 two of his friends ; inscribing thereon the following 
 classical fragment : 
 
 In this once-favoured walk, beneath these Elms, 
 
 Where thickened foliage, to the solar ray 
 
 Impervious, sheds a venerable gloom, 
 
 Oft in instructive converse we beguiled 
 
 The fervid time, which each returning year 
 
 To friendship's call devoted. Such things were ; 
 
 But are, alas ! no more. 
 
 The Chipstead Elm, in Kent, which is an Eng- 
 lish tree, is a fine specimen ; and is of an immense 
 size. It is beautiful as to form, and its trunk is 
 richly mantled with ivy. In Henry V. 's time, the 
 high road from Rye to London passed close by it, 
 and a fair was held annually under its branches. 
 
 At Sprotborough, Yorkshire, stands what is 
 justly regarded as the pride of the grounds a 
 magnificent English Elm. This noble tree is about 
 fifteen feet in circumference in the bole, and still 
 thicker at the height of four feet from the ground, 
 where it divides into five enormous boughs, each 
 of the size of a large tree, and gracefully descend- 
 ing to the ground ; the whole forming a splendid
 
 ELM. 89 
 
 mass of foliage, having a diameter of about forty 
 yards from bough to bough end. 
 
 The Elm is generally raised by means of suckers, 
 rarely from seeds. It delights in a rich, loamy 
 soil, thriving best in an open situation, and bears 
 transplantation well. It may also be planted in 
 good pasture grounds, as it does not injure the 
 grass beneath ; and its leaves are agreeable to 
 cattle, which iu some countries are chiefly sup- 
 ported by them. They will eat them before oats, 
 and thrive well upon them. Evelyn says, that in 
 Herefordshire the inhabitants gathered them in 
 sacks for their swine and other cattle. 
 
 Fruitful in leaves the Elm. 
 
 So prolific is this tree in leaves, that it affords a 
 constant shade during the summer months, and for 
 this reason it has been planted in most of the pub- 
 lic and royal gardens in Europe. It is also of quick 
 growth, as it will yield a load of timber in little 
 more than forty years : it does not, however, cease 
 growing if planted in a favourable situation 
 neither too dry nor too moist till it is one hundred 
 or one hundred and fifty years old ; and it will live 
 several centuries. 
 
 The wood of the Elm is hard and tough, and is 
 greatly esteemed for pipes that are constantly un- 
 der ground. In London, before iron pipes were 
 used, the consumption of this timber for water- 
 pipes was enormous. It is also valuable for keels, 
 and planking beneath the water-line of ships, and 
 for mill-wheels and water-works. When long bows
 
 90 ELM. 
 
 were in fashion it was used in their manufacture, 
 and the Statutes recommend it for that purpose. 
 
 Besides U. campestris there are six other varieties 
 which have been long naturalized in this country, 
 the botanical descriptions of which are : 
 
 2. U. suberosa. Ehr. Leaves nearly orbicular, acute, obliquely 
 cordate at the base, sharply, regularly, and doubly serrate ; always 
 scabrous above, pubescent below, chiefly hairy in the axillae. 
 Branches spreading, bright brown, winged with corky excrescen- 
 ces; when young, very hairy. Fruit nearly round, deeply cloven, 
 naked. Grows in hedges, and flowers in March. 
 
 3. U. major. Smith. Leaves" ovato-acuminate, very oblique at 
 the base, sharply, doubly, and regularly serrate ; always scabrous 
 above, pubescent below, with dense tufts of white hairs in the 
 axillae. Branches spreading, bright brown, winged with corky 
 excrescences ; when young, nearly smooth. Fruit obovate, slightly 
 cloven, naked. U. . hollandica. Miller. Grows in hedges, and 
 flowers in March. 
 
 4. U. carpinifolia. Lindl. Leaves ovato-acuminate, coriace- 
 ous, strongly veined, simply crenate, serrate, slightly oblique and 
 cordate at the base, shining, but rather scabrous above, smooth 
 beneath. Branches bright-brown, nearly smooth. Grows four 
 miles from Stratford-on-Avon, on the road to Alcester. 
 
 5. U. glabra. Miller. Leaves ovato-lanceolate, acuminate, 
 doubly and evenly crenate-serrate, cuneate and oblique at the 
 base, becoming quite smooth above, smooth or glandular beneath, 
 with a few hairs in the axillae. Branches bright-brown, smooth, 
 wiry, weeping. Fruit obovate, naked, deeply cloven. 0. glan- 
 dulosa. Leaves very glandular beneath, y. latifolia. Leaves 
 oblong, acute, very broad. Grows in woods and hedges ; p. near 
 Ludlow; y. at West Hatch, in Essex. Flowers in March. N.B. 
 To this species the Downton Elm and Scampston Elm of the 
 nurseries probably belong. 
 
 6. U. stricta. Lindl. Cornish Elm. Leaves obovate, cuspi- 
 date, cuneate at the base, evenly and nearly doubly crenate-ser- 
 rate, strongly veined, coriaceous, very smooth and shining above, 
 smooth beneath, with hairy axillae. Branches bright-brown, 
 smooth, rigid, erect, very compact. ft. paroifolia. Leaves much 
 smaller, less oblique at the base, finely and regularly crenate,
 
 ELM. 91 
 
 acuminate rather than cuspidate. Grows in Cornwall and North 
 Devon ; /3. the less common. 
 
 7. U. montana. Bauh. Witch Elm. Leaves obovate, cuspi- 
 date, doubly and coarsely serrate, cuneate and nearly equal at 
 the base, always exceedingly scabrous above, evenly downy 
 beneath. Branches not corky, cinereous, smooth. Fruit rhomboid, 
 oblong, scarcely cloven, naked. U.campestris. "Willd. U.effusa. 
 Sibth., not of others. U. nuda. Chr. U. glabra, Hudson, ac- 
 cording to Smith. N. B. Of this, the Giant Elm and the Chi- 
 fhester Elm of the nurseries are varieties.
 
 THE HAWTHORN-TREE. 
 
 [Cratcegus.* Nat. Ord. Rosacece; Linn. Icosand. Pentag.] 
 
 The Hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, 
 For talking age and whispering lovers made, 
 
 HIGH as we admit Gilpin's taste for the picturesque 
 to be, we are compelled to differ from him in his 
 opinion of the Hawthorn. He observes that it has 
 little claim to picturesque beauty ; he complains 
 that its shape is bad, that it does not taper and 
 point like the holly, but is a matted, round, and 
 
 * Crat(B<jus. Calyx superior, monosepalous, 5-cleft. Petals 5. 
 Styles 2 to 5. Fruit a small pome, oval or round, concealing the 
 upper end of the bony carpels. Flowers in cymes. Leaves lobed .
 
 HAWTHORN. 93 
 
 heavy bush. We are glad to find, however, that 
 Sir T. Lauder thinks differently : he remarks, that 
 " even in a picturesque point of view, it is not only 
 an interesting object by itself, but produces an in- 
 teresting combination, or contrast, as things may 
 be, when grouped with other trees. We have seen 
 it," he adds, "hanging over rocks, with deep 
 shadows over its foliage, or shooting from their 
 sides in the most fantastic forms, as if to gaze at 
 its image in the deep pool below. We have seen 
 it contrasting its tender green and its delicate 
 leaves with the brighter and deeper masses of the 
 holly and the alder. We have seen it growing 
 under the shelter, though not under the shade, of 
 some stately oak, embodying the idea of beauty 
 protected by strength. Our eyes have often caught 
 the motion of the busy mill-wheel, over which its 
 blossoms were clustering. We have seen it grow- 
 ing grandly on the green of the village school, the 
 great object of general attraction to the young 
 urchins, who played in idle groups about its roots, 
 and perhaps the only thing remaining to be recog- 
 nised when the schoolboy returns as the man. We 
 have seen its aged boughs overshadowing one half 
 of some peaceful woodland cottage, its foliage half- 
 concealing the window, whence the sounds of happy 
 content and cheerful mirth came forth. We know 
 that lively season 
 
 When the milkmaid singeth blithe, 
 And the mower whets his scythe, 
 And every shepherd tells his tale 
 Under the hawthorn in the dale.
 
 94 HAWTHORN. 
 
 And with these, and a thousand such associations 
 as these, we cannot but feel emotions of no ordi- 
 nary nature when we behold this beautiful tree." 
 And Gilpin admits, in another part of his Forest 
 Scenery, that the Hawthorn, when entangled with 
 an. oak, or mixing with other trees, may be beautiful. 
 Loudon describes " the Hawthorn, C. oasyacantha, 
 in its wild state, as a shrub, or small tree, with a 
 smooth, blackish bark, and very hard wood. The 
 branches are numerous and slender, furnished with 
 sharp, awl-shaped spines. The leaves are of a deep 
 smooth green, more or less deeply three-lobed, 
 or five-lobed, cut and serrated, wedge-shaped, or 
 rounded. The flowers have white petals, frequently 
 pink, or almost scarlet, and sweet-scented." Its 
 fragrance indeed is great, and its bloom is spread 
 over it in profusion. 
 
 Marke the faire blooming of the Hawthorne tree, 
 "Who, finely cloathed in a robe of white, 
 Fills full the wanton eye with May's delight. 
 
 CHAUCER. 
 
 While "in autumn," says Gilpin, "the Hawthorn 
 makes its best appearance. Its glowing berries 
 produce a rich tint, which often adds great beauty 
 to the corner of a wood, or the side of some crowded 
 clump." 
 
 There are many remarkable trees of this kind, 
 but the only one we shall here particularly mention 
 is Queen Mary's Thorn, which is thus described in 
 that splendid work, the Arboretum Britannicum : 
 " The parent tree is in a garden near Edinburgh,
 
 HAWTHORN. 
 
 95 
 
 which once belonged to the Regent Murray, and 
 is now, 1836, in the possession of Mr. Cowan, 
 a paper manufacturer. It is very old, and its 
 branches have somewhat of a drooping character ; 
 but whether sufficiently so to constitute a variety 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Berries of C. oxyacantha.
 
 96 HAWTHORN. 
 
 worth propagating as a distinct kind, appears to 
 us very doubtful. It may be interesting, however, 
 to some, to continue, by extension, the individual 
 tree under which the unfortunate Queen is sup- 
 posed to have spent many hours. The fruit of this 
 variety is rather above the middle size, long, fleshy, 
 of a deep red, and good to eat. The height of the 
 parent tree is thirty-three feet, and the diameter 
 of the head thirty-six feet ; the trunk divides into 
 two limbs, at fifteen inches from the ground, one 
 of which is one foot four inches in diameter, and 
 the other one foot. The tree is healthy and vi- 
 gorous, though, if it be true that Queen Mary sat 
 under its shade, it must be nearly three hundred 
 years old." 
 
 The Hawthorn is found in most parts of Europe, 
 and appears to have been of use in England from 
 a very early period, as in all old works on hus- 
 bandry ample directions are given for the planting 
 and cultivation of the Thorn. In Tusser's Five 
 Hundred Points in Good Husbandry we find the 
 following directions : 
 
 Go plough or delve up, advised with skill, 
 The breadth of a ridge, and in length as you will ; 
 Where speedy quickset for a fence you will draw, 
 To sow in the seed of the bramble and Haw. 
 
 If intended for seed, the haws should not be 
 gathered until the end of October, when they be- 
 come blackish ; and even then they rarely vegetate 
 before the second year. The proper mode of pre- 
 paring them is as follows : If you do not sow them 
 immediately, as soon as they are gathered, spread
 
 HAWTHORN. 97 
 
 them on an airy floor for five or six weeks, till the 
 seeds are dry and firm ; then plunge them into 
 water, and divest them wholly of their pulp by 
 rubbing them between your hands with a little 
 sand ; spread them again on the loft three or four 
 days, till quite dry ; mix them with fine loose sandy 
 mould, in quantity not less than the bulk of the 
 seeds, and lay them in a heap against a south wall, 
 covering them over, three or four inches deep, with 
 soil of the same quality as that with which they are 
 mixed. If you do not sow them in the spring, in 
 this situation let them remain till the second spring, 
 as the seeds, if sown, will not appear the first year. 
 That the berries may be as equally mixed with the 
 soil as possible, turn over the heaps once in two 
 months, blending the covering with the seeds, and, 
 at every turning, give them a fresh covering in the 
 winter months. They should be sown the first dry 
 weather in February, or the beginning of March. 
 Separate them from the loose soil in which they 
 were mixed, with a wire sieve. The ground should 
 be good, dry, fresh land, well prepared, and the 
 seeds beat down with the back of a spade, and then 
 covered about half an inch thick with mould ; or 
 they may be dropped in drills about eight inches 
 apart. 
 
 The utility of the Hawthorn is chiefly for fences. 
 The wood is hard, and the root of an old Thorn is 
 an excellent material for boxes and combs, and is 
 curiously and naturally wrought. It is white, but 
 of a somewhat yellow hue, and is capable of a very 
 high polish.
 
 THE HAZEL-TREE. 
 
 [Corylus.* Nat. Ord. Amentiferce ; Linn. Monoec. Polyan.] 
 
 THE common Hazel, C. avellana, is a native of all 
 the temperate climates of Europe and Asia, and 
 grows wild in almost every part of Britain, from 
 Cornwall to Caithness. Although never arriving 
 at the bulk of a timber tree, it yet claims our 
 notice, among the natives of the forest, on various 
 accounts. Its flowers are among the first to make 
 their appearance, which is generally so early as 
 
 * Corylus. Barren catkin long, pendulous, cylindrical. Scales 
 3-lobed, middle lobe covering the 2 lateral lobes. Stamens 8. 
 Anther 1-celled. Perianth none. Fertile flowers, several sur- 
 rounded by a scaly involucre. Styles 2. Nut 1-seeded, inclosed 
 in the enlarged coriaceous laciniated involucre.
 
 HAZEL. 99 
 
 the end of January, and in a month's time they are 
 in full bloom ; these are small, and of a beautiful 
 red colour. Its fruit-bearing buds make a splendid 
 show in March, when they burst and disclose the 
 bright crimson of their shafts. 
 
 The common Hazel is known at once by its 
 bushy habit ; by its roundish-cordate taper-pointed, 
 deeply serrated, light-green, downy leaves ; by its 
 rough light-coloured bark ; and by its broad leafy 
 husks, much lacerated and spreading at the point. 
 The nuts are a very agreeable fruit, abounding in a 
 mild oil, which is expressed and used by artists for 
 mixing with their colours. We must, however, cau- 
 tion persons against eating too freely of this fruit, 
 as it is difficult of digestion, and often proves hurt- 
 ful when eaten in large quantities. They are ripe 
 about harvest, and we ourselves have frequently 
 enjoyed the pleasures of a nutting party, and can 
 fully enter into the spirit of the sketch in Autumn, 
 by our admired bard, Thomson : 
 
 Ye swains, now hasten to the Hazel bank, 
 "Where, down yon dale, the wildly-winding brook 
 Falls hoarse from steep to steep. In close array, 
 Fit for the thickets and the tangling shrub, 
 Ye virgins come. For you their latest song 
 The woodlands raise ; the clustering nuts for you 
 The lover finds amid the secret shade ; 
 And, where they burnish on the topmost bough, 
 "With active vigour crushes down the tree, 
 Or shakes them ripe from the resigning husk. 
 
 We must also give here a description of the 
 pleasures of nutting, from our favourite poet the 
 poet of nature Wordsworth :
 
 100 
 
 HAZEL. 
 
 It seems a day 
 
 (I speak of one from many singled out) 
 One of those heavenly days which cannot die ; 
 When in the eagerness of boyish hope, 
 I left our cottage-threshold, sallying forth 
 With a huge wallet o'er my shoulders slung, 
 
 Leaves, Catkins, and Nuts of C. avellana.
 
 .HAZEL. 101 
 
 A nutting-crook in hand, and turned my steps 
 Toward the distant woods. * * * 
 
 * * * * Among the woods 
 And o'er the pathless rocks I forced my way, 
 Until at length I came to one dear nook 
 TJnvisited, where not a broken bough 
 Drooped with its withered leaves, ungracious sign 
 Of devastation ! but the Hazels rose 
 
 Tall and erect, with milk-white clusters hung, 
 A virgin scene ! A little while I stood, 
 Breathing with such suppression of the heart 
 As joy delights in ; and with wise restraint, 
 Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed 
 The banquet, or beneath the trees I sate 
 Among the flowers, and with the flowers I played. 
 
 * * * * Then up I rose, 
 
 And dragged on earth each branch and bough with crash 
 
 And merciless ravage, and the shady nook 
 
 Of Hazels, and the green and massy bower 
 
 Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up 
 
 Their quiet being; and unless I now 
 
 Confound my present feelings with the past, 
 
 Even then, when from the bower I turned away 
 
 Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings, 
 
 I felt a sense of pain when I beheld 
 
 The silent trees, and the intruding sky. 
 
 The nut is a favourite food of the squirrels, which 
 hoard them up for winter store, being careful al- 
 ways to select the best. It is commonly remarked, 
 that a plentiful year for nuts is the same for wheat. 
 
 In order to raise the Hazel, the nuts must be 
 gathered in autumn. These must be carefully 
 preserved until February in a moist place ; then, 
 having the ground well ploughed and harrowed, 
 sow them in drills drawn at one yard distance. 
 When the young plants appear they must be kept
 
 102 HAZEL. 
 
 clear from weeds, and remain under this careful 
 cultivation till the weeds are no longer to be feared. 
 As they grow they should not be permitted to stand 
 too thick, but be kept thinned, until the plants are 
 left a yard asunder each way. Virgil says, 
 
 Hazels, from set and suckers, take. 
 
 From these they thrive very well, the shoots 
 being of the scantling of small wands and switches, 
 or somewhat larger, and such as have divers hairy 
 twigs, which are not to be disbranched, any more 
 than their roots, unless by a very discreet hand. 
 Thus, a copse of Hazels being planted about au- 
 tumn, may be cut the next spring within three 
 or four inches of the ground, when new shoots 
 will soon grow up in clusters, and in tufts of fair 
 poles of twenty, or sometimes thirty feet long. 
 Evelyn, however, recommends that these offsets 
 should be allowed to grow two or three years, until 
 they have taken strong hold, when they may be 
 cut close to the very earth, the feeble ones espe- 
 cially. The rate of growth, under favourable cir- 
 cumstances, is from one to two feet for the first 
 two or three years after planting ; after which, if 
 trained to a single stem, the tree grows slower, 
 attaining the height of about twelve feet in ten 
 years, and never growing much higher, unless 
 drawn up by other trees. It is seldom, however, 
 allowed to grow to maturity, being usually cut 
 down before that period.
 
 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 [Ilex. * Nat. Ord. Aquifoliacece ; Linn. Tetram. Tetrag.] 
 
 ABOVE all the evergreens which enrich our land- 
 scapes, there is none to be compared to the com- 
 mon Holly, /. aquifolium. This was a favourite 
 plant with Evelyn. It grew spontaneously and 
 luxuriantly near his own residence in Surrey, in a 
 vale anciently called Holmes' Dale, and famous 
 for the flight of the Danes ; he expresses his won- 
 der that Britons seek so eagerly after foreign 
 
 *IJ.ex. Calyx inferior, 4 or 5-toothed, persistent. Corolla 
 rotate, 4 or 5-cleft. Stigmas 4, sessile, or nearly so ; distinct or 
 united. Fruit a sperical berry, 4-celled, each cell 1-seeded. 
 Flowers sometimes polygamous.
 
 104 HOLLY. 
 
 plants, and at a vast expense, while they neglect 
 the culture of this incomparable tree, whether it 
 be cultivated for utility or ornament. He speaks 
 in raptures of it : "Is there under heaven a more 
 glorious and refreshing object of the kind, than an 
 impenetrable hedge, of about four hundred feet in 
 length, nine feet high, and five in diameter, which 
 I can show in my gardens at Say's Court, Deptford, 
 at any time of the year, glittering with its armed 
 and varnished leaves ; the taller standards at or- 
 derly distances, blushing with their natural coral." 
 
 The leaves of the common Holly are ovate, 
 acute, spinous, wavy, thorny, and shining; the 
 lower leaves being very spinous, while the upper 
 ones, especially on old trees, are entire. The 
 flowers are white, appearing in May, and the 
 berries, which are red, ripen in September, and 
 remain on the tree all the winter. 
 
 Gilpin remarks that the Holly can hardly be 
 called a tree, though it is a large shrub, and a 
 plant of singular beauty ; but he cannot accord 
 -with the learned naturalist (Evelyn) in the whole 
 of his rapturous encomium on his hedge at Say's 
 Court. He recommends it, not as a hedge, but to 
 be planted in a forest, where, mixed with oak, or 
 ash, or other trees of the wood, it contributes to 
 form the most beautiful scenes ; blending itself 
 with the trunks and skeletons of the winter, or 
 with the varied greens of summer. And as far as 
 an individual bush can be beautiful, the Holly is 
 extremely so. It has, besides, to recommend it, 
 that it is among the hardiest and stoutest plants
 
 HOLLY. 
 
 105 
 
 of English growth. It thrives in all soils, and in 
 all situations. At Dungeness, in Kent, it flourishes 
 even among the pebbles of the beach. It abounds, 
 more or less, in the remains of all aboriginal forests, 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Berries of /. aquifolium.
 
 106 HOLLY. 
 
 and perhaps, at present, it prevails nowhere to a 
 greater extent than in the remains of Needwood 
 Forest, in Staffordshire ; there are likewise many 
 fine trees in the New Forest, in Hampshire. It is 
 also abundant on the banks of the river Findhoru, 
 in Aberdeenshire ; but it is not very common in 
 Ireland, except about the lakes of Killarney, where 
 it attains a large size. 
 
 Why Gilpin should hesitate about considering 
 the Holly a tree, we are at a loss to conceive, as 
 it grows to the height of thirty feet, and, under 
 cultivation, to sixty feet or upwards, and yields 
 timber of considerable value. Being the whitest 
 of all hard woods, it is useful for inlaying, espe- 
 cially under thin plates of ivory, rendering the 
 latter more conspicuous ; and also for veneering. 
 It is much used by the turner and mathematical 
 instrument maker, and for handles for the best 
 riding-rods, &c. 
 
 The Holly is a very valuable plant for fences ; 
 it is seldom attacked by insects, and, if shorn, 
 becomes so impenetrable that birds cannot obtain 
 access thereto to build their nests. On these ac- 
 counts it is particularly valuable to the farmer for 
 hedges ; the chief objection to it for this purpose 
 is, the slowness of its growth while young, and the 
 difficulty of transplanting the plants when grown 
 to a moderate size. Mr. Sang says, that Holly 
 hedges are the best for making durable fences, and 
 afford the greatest degree of shelter, especially 
 during the winter months ; no plant endures the 
 shears better than the Holly ; a hedge of it may
 
 HOLLY. 107 
 
 be carried to a great height, and consequently it 
 is well fitted for situations where strength and 
 shelter are required ; it luxuriates most in a rich 
 sandy loam, although there are few soils in which 
 it will not grow. After planting, the Holly makes 
 but indifferent progress for a few years ; but after 
 it becomes established in the ground, or about the 
 third or fourth year after planting, no fence what- 
 ever will outgrow the Holly. " I hare seen hedges," 
 says Evelyn, " or stout walls, of Holly, twenty feet 
 high, kept upright, and the gilded sort budded 
 low; and in two or three places one above another, 
 shorn and fashioned into columns and pilasters, 
 architecturally shaped, and at due distance ; than 
 which nothing can possibly be more pleasant, the 
 berry adorning the intercolumniations with scarlet 
 festoons and encarpa." The employment of the 
 Holly at Christmas for ornamenting churches and 
 dwelling-houses, is believed to have come down to 
 us from the Druids, who made use of it in their 
 religious ceremonies. The name Holly is supposed 
 to be a corruption of the word holy, as Dr. Turner, 
 one of the earliest English writers on plants, calls 
 it !)0lj>, and t)fll trff, which appellation was pro- 
 bably given to it on account of its use in holy places; 
 the German name, Christdorn, the Danish name, 
 Christorn, and the Swedish name, Christtorn, seem 
 to justify this conjecture. It is also styled Holy 
 in a carol written in its praise in the time of 
 Henry VI., preserved in the Harleian MSS., No. 
 5396, and printed in London's Arboretum :
 
 108 HOLLY. 
 
 Nay, Ivy, nay, it shall not be I wys ; 
 
 Let Holy hafe the maystry, as the maner ys, 
 
 Holy stond in the halle, fayre to behold ; 
 
 Ivy stond without the dore; she is full sore a cold. 
 
 Holy and hys mery men they dansyn and they syng, 
 Ivy and hur maydenys they wepyn and they wryng. 
 Ivy hath a lybe ; she laghtit with the cold, 
 So mot they all hafe that wyth Ivy hold. 
 
 Holy hath berys as red as any rose, 
 
 They foster the hunter, kepe him from the doo. 
 
 Ivy hath berys as black as any slo ; 
 
 Ther com the oule and etc hym as she goo. 
 
 Holy hath byrdys, aful fayre flok, 
 
 The nyghtyngale, the poppyngy, the gayntyl laverok, 
 
 Good Ivy ! what byrdys ast thou ! 
 
 Non but the Howlet that "How! How!" 
 
 The disciples of Zoroaster believe that the sun 
 never shadows the Holly tree ; and there are still 
 some followers of this king in Persia, who throw 
 water which has been in the bark of the Holly in 
 the face of new-born children. Southey, in a very 
 elegant poem, which is printed in the Sentiment of 
 Flowers, in the article entitled Foresight, of which 
 quality the Holly is considered emblematical, has 
 noticed the circumstance of the lower leaves of 
 large plants being spinous, while the upper are 
 entire.
 
 THE HORNBEAM. 
 [Carpinus.* Nat. Ord. Ameniiferce ; Linn. Moncec. Polyan.] 
 
 THE Common Hornbeam, C. betulus, is a native of 
 England and Ireland, and of the south of Scotland, 
 and is also indigenous throughout the greater part 
 of Europe and western Asia, but not in Africa. 
 Picturesquely considered, the Hornbeam is very 
 nearly allied to the beech. When suffered to grow 
 it will be like it, and attain to a great height, with 
 
 * Carpinus. Barren catkin long, cylindrical. Scales roundish. 
 Stamens 5 to 14. Anther 1-celled. Fertile flower in a lax cat- 
 kin. Scales large, leaf-like, 3-lobed, 2-ttowered. Styles 2. Nut 
 ovate, 1-seeded.
 
 110 HORNBEAM. 
 
 a fine straight trunk ; it is very common in many 
 parts of England, but is rarely allowed to become 
 a timber tree, being generally pollarded by the 
 country people. It is, therefore, usually seen only 
 in clipped hedges, where it is very obedient to the 
 knife, and, with a little care, will never presume to 
 appear out of form. It is excellent for forming 
 tall hedges, or screens, in nursery grounds or or- 
 namental gardens. That admirable espaliere hedge 
 in the long middle walk of Luxemburg garden at 
 Paris (than which there is nothing more graceful), 
 is planted of this tree ; and so is that cradle, or 
 close walk, with that perplexed canopy which 
 covers the seat in her Majesty's garden at Hamp- 
 ton Court ; these hedges are tonsile, but where 
 they are maintained to fifteen or twenty feet in 
 height (which is very frequent in the places before 
 mentioned), they are to be cut and kept in order 
 with a scythe of four feet long, and very little fal- 
 cated ; this is fixed on a long sneed, or straight 
 handle, and does wonderfully expedite the trim- 
 ming of these and the like hedges. 
 
 The leaves of the Hornbeam somewhat resemble 
 those of the elm, but are smoother; they are cordate, 
 doubly serrate, pointed, plaited when young, and 
 have numerous parallel, transverse, hairy ribs ; 
 their colour is a darkish green, changing to a rus- 
 set brown in autumn, and they remain on the tree, 
 like those of the beech, till spring. The buds are 
 rather long and pointed. The flowers appear at 
 the same time as the leaves. The male catkins 
 are loose, scaly, of a yellowish colour, and about
 
 HORNBEAM. 
 
 Ill 
 
 two or three inches long ; the female catkins are 
 much smaller, and, when young, are covered with 
 close brownish scales, which gradually increase, 
 and form unequally three-lobed, sharply serrated, 
 veiny, dry, pale-green bracts, each enveloping an 
 
 Leaves and Flowers of C. betulus.
 
 112 HORNBEAM. 
 
 angular nut, scarcely bigger than a grain of barley. 
 These nuts ripen in October, and fall with the cap- 
 sules. The bark of the Hornbeam is light-gray 
 and smooth, and the wood very white, tough, and 
 strong. It is used for yokes, handles for tools, 
 and cogs for mill-wheels ; it is also much valued 
 by the turner. It is very inflammable, and will burn 
 like a candle, for which purpose it was formerly 
 employed. The inner bark is much used in the 
 north of Europe for dyeing yellow. 
 
 When raised from seed, the common Hornbeam 
 acquires the usual magnitude of the beech, to 
 which, as before stated, it is similar in its ap- 
 pearance. In the neighbourhood of London the 
 rate of growth may be considered from twelve to 
 eighteen inches a-year for the first ten years, and 
 the tree will attain its full size in between fifty and 
 sixty years ; its longevity may be considered as 
 equal to that of the beech. Hanbury says that 
 this tree is peculiarly grateful to hares and rabbits ; 
 and if so, the planting of it among other trees and 
 shrubs might be the means of saving them from 
 being injured by these creatures. The Hornbeam 
 preserves itself from the butting of the deer, by its 
 mode of throwing out its branches ; on this account 
 it should be cultivated in parks, as well as for its 
 beauty and shelter. The regular growth of the 
 Hornbeam is referred to by Fawkes, in his Bramham 
 Park : 
 
 Here spiry firs extend their lengthened ranks, 
 There violets blossom on the sunny banks ; 
 Here Hornbeam hedges regularly grow, 
 There hawthorn whitens and wild roses blow.
 
 HORNBEAM. 113 
 
 The Hornbeam is recommended to be planted 
 on cold, barren hills, as in such situations it will 
 flourish where few other trees will grow ; it also 
 resists the winds much better than the generality 
 of trees, and, at the same time, it is not slow of 
 growth. In such situations, Dr. Hunter observes 
 that he noticed some specimens nearly seventy 
 feet high, having large, noble stems, perfectly 
 straight and sound. 
 
 There was a fine specimen of this tree at Bar- 
 goly, in Galloway, which measured, in 1780, six 
 feet two inches in circumference. It had twenty 
 feet of clear trunk, and was seventy feet high.
 
 THE HORSE-CHESTNUT TREE. 
 
 [JEsculus. Nat. Ord. JEsculacece; Linn. Heptan. Monog.] 
 
 THE Common Horse-chestnut, JE. hippocastanum, is 
 supposed to be a native of the north of India, and 
 appears to have been introduced into England 
 about the year 1575. It is a tree of the largest 
 size, with an erect trunk and a pyramidal head. 
 It forms its foliage generally in a round mass, with 
 little appearance of those breaks which are so 
 much to be admired, and which contribute to give 
 an airiness and lightness, at least a richness and 
 variety, to the whole mass of foliage. This tree is,
 
 HORSE-CHESTNUT. 115 
 
 however, chiefly admired for its flower, which in 
 itself is beautiful ; but the whole tree together in 
 flower is a glaring object, totally unharmonious 
 and unpicturesque. In some situations, indeed, 
 and amidst a profusion of other wood, a single 
 Horse-chestnut or two in bloom may be beautiful. 
 As it forms an admirable shade, it may be of use, 
 too, in thickening distant scenery, or in screening 
 an object at hand ; for there is no species of foli- 
 age, however heavy, nor any species of bloom, 
 however glaring, which may not be brought, by 
 some proper contrast, to produce a good effect. It 
 is generally, however, considered one of the most 
 ornamental trees in our plantations. Evelyn styles 
 it a tree of singular beauty and use ; and Miss 
 Twamley, in her elegant volume, the Romance of 
 Nature, breaks into raptures in speaking of it. 
 "Few trees," she says, "are so magnificent in 
 foliage as the Horse-chestnut, with its large fan- 
 like leaves, far more resembling those of some 
 tropical plant than the garb of a forest tree in 
 climes like ours ; but when these are crowned with 
 its pyramids of flowers, so splendid in their distant 
 effect, and so exquisitely modelled and pencilled 
 when we gather and examine their fair forms is 
 it not then the pride of the landscape ? If the 
 Oak the true British Oak be the forest king, 
 let us give him at least a partner in his majesty ; 
 and let the Chestnut, whose noble head is crowned 
 by the hand of spring with a regal diadem, gemmed 
 with myriads of pearly, and golden, and ruby 
 flowers, let her be queen of the woods in bonny
 
 116 HORSE-CHESTNUT. 
 
 England ; and while we listen to the musical hum 
 of bees, as they load themselves with her wealth of 
 honey, we will fancy they are congratulating their 
 noble and generous friend on her new honours." 
 
 The leaves of the Horse-chestnut are large, of a 
 deep green colour, fine, and palmated, and appear 
 very early in the spring ; it is naturally uniform in 
 its growth. In the spring it produces long spikes, 
 with beautiful flowers white and variegated, gene- 
 rally in such number as to cover the whole tree, 
 and to give it the appearance of one gigantic 
 bouquet. No flowering shrub is rendered more gay 
 by its blossoms than this tall tree ; thus it combines 
 beauty with grandeur, in a degree superior to any 
 other vegetable of these climates. In Howitt's Forest 
 Minstrel, we find the following poetical allusion : 
 
 For in its honour prodigal nature weaves 
 A princely vestment, and profusely showers, 
 O'er its green masses of broad palmy leaves, 
 Ten thousand waxen pyramidal flowers ; 
 And gay and gracefully its head it heaves 
 Into the air, and monarch-like it towers. 
 
 The buds of this tree, before they shoot out 
 leaves, become turgid and large, so that they have 
 a good effect to the eye long before the leaves ap- 
 pear ; and it is peculiar to the Horse-chestnut, that 
 as soon as the leading shoot is come out of the 
 bud, it continues to grow so fast as to be able to 
 form its whole summer's shoot in about three 
 weeks' or a month's time: after this it grows little 
 or nothing more in length, but thickens, and be- 
 comes strong and woody, and forms the buds for
 
 HORSE-CHESTNUT. 
 
 117 
 
 the next year's shoot ; the leaves are blunt, spear- 
 shaped, and serrated, growing by sevens on one 
 
 stalk, the middle one longest. The flowers are in 
 full blossom about May, and, on fine trees, make
 
 118 HORSE-CHESTNUT. 
 
 a pleasing appearance ; they continue in bloom for 
 a month or more. 
 
 In June that Chestnut shot its blossomed spires 
 
 Of silver upward 'mid the foliage dark ; 
 
 As if some sylvan deity had hung 
 
 Its dim umbrageousness with votive wreaths. 
 
 Thus, Mr. Moir's Horse-chestnut put forth its 
 bloom in June. The fruit ripens about the end of 
 September or the beginning of October. 
 
 We quote the following singular fact from the 
 Magazine of Natural History: " The downy interior 
 of the Horse-chestnut buds are protected from the 
 wet by a covering of a gummy substance. Miss Kent 
 says, ' that we cannot have a better specimen of 
 the early formation of plants in their bud than in 
 that of the Horse-chestnut.' A celebrated Ger- 
 man naturalist detached from this tree, in the 
 winter season, a flower bud not larger than a pea, 
 and first took off the external covering, which he 
 found consisted of seventeen scales ; having re- 
 moved these scales, and the down which formed 
 the internal covering of the bud, he discovered-four 
 branch leaves surrounding a spike of flowers, the 
 latter. of which was so distinctly visible, that, with 
 the aid of a microscope, he not only counted sixty- 
 eight flowers, but could discei'n the pollen of the 
 stamens, and perceive that some were opaque and 
 some transparent. This experiment may be tried 
 by any one, as the flowers may be perceived with 
 a common magnifying glass ; but as detaching the 
 scales requires care, it would be advisable for an
 
 HORSE-CHESTNUT. 119 
 
 unpractised student to gather the bud in early 
 spring, when the sun is just beginning to melt 
 away the gum with which the scales are sealed 
 together." 
 
 The Horse-chestnut is extremely well adapted to 
 parks, not only because it grows to a large size 
 and forms a beautiful regular head, thereby be- 
 coming a pleasing object at a distance, but also on 
 account of the quantity of nuts it yields, which are 
 excellent food for deer, so that where great num- 
 bers of deer are kept, the planting of these trees in 
 abundance is to be recommended. It is also very 
 suitable for avenues, or walks, though it has been 
 objected that its leaves fall early in the autumn. 
 This must be admitted ; yet we think it fully 
 compensates for the loss by the exhibition of its 
 light-brown nuts, some on the ground, some ready 
 to fall, and others just peeping out of their cells. 
 The finest avenue of these trees in England is that 
 at Bushy Park. 
 
 There are many fine specimens of this tree in 
 various parts of the country. In Suffolk, at Fin- 
 borough Hall, one, eighty years planted, is one 
 hundred feet high ; the diameter of its trunk, at 
 one foot from the ground, is five feet. In the 
 church-yard at Bolton-on-Dearne, in Yorkshire, 
 there are some fine specimens ; one sixty-six feet 
 high, and two feet eight inches in diameter at the 
 ground ; and another sixty-eight feet high, and two 
 feet six inches in diameter. But the largest in 
 Britain is said to be at Trocton, in Lincolnshire, 
 fifty-nine feet high. Loudon says this is a most
 
 120 HORSE-CHESTNUT. 
 
 magnificent tree, with immense branches extend- 
 ing over the space of three hundred and five feet 
 in circumference ; and the branches are so large 
 as to require props, so that at a little distance it 
 looks like an Indian banyan tree. 
 
 The Horse-chestnut is propagated from the nut, 
 of which a sufficient quantity should be gathered 
 as they fall from the trees, and soon afterwards 
 either sown or mixed up with earth, until the 
 spring ; because, if exposed to the atmosphere, 
 they will lose their germinating power in a month. 
 After being transplanted into the nursery, and 
 having there attained a sufficient size, the young 
 trees must be taken out with care, the great side 
 shoots and bruised parts of the roots lopped off, 
 and then planted in large holes, level with the sur- 
 face of the ground at the top of their roots, the 
 fibres being all spread and lapped in the fine mould, 
 and the turf also worked to the bottom : October 
 is the best season for this work. Like most other 
 trees, this delights in good fat land, but it will grow 
 exceedingly well on clayey and marly grounds ; 
 large trees have been known to look luxuriant and 
 healthy in very cold barren earth. It will attain 
 a very large size in a few years. 
 
 The timber of this tree is not very valuable, 
 especially where great strength is required, nor 
 will it bear exposure to the air. It is, however, of 
 some use to the turner, and also serviceable for 
 flooring, linings to carts, &c. Du Hamel recom- 
 mends it as suitable for water-pipes, which are kept 
 constantly underground. The fruit is of a farina-
 
 HORSE-CHESTNUT. 121 
 
 ceous quality, but so bitter as to be useless for 
 food. Goats, sheep, and deer are said to be very 
 fond of them ; the bark has considerable astrin- 
 gency, and may be used for tanning leather. A 
 decoction of the rind will dye the hair of a golden 
 hue.
 
 THE LARCH-TREE. 
 [Abies Larix* Nat. Ord. Coniferce ; Linn. Monccc. Monand. \ 
 
 THE Larch claims the Alps and Apennines for 
 its native country, where it thrives in higher re- 
 gions of the air than any known tree of its large 
 bulk, hanging over rocks and precipices which 
 have never been trod by human feet. It is often 
 felled by the Alpine peasant, to fall athwart some 
 yawning chasm, where it affords an awful passage 
 from cliff to cliff, while the roaring cataract below, 
 is only seen in surges of vapour. 
 
 * Abies Larix. Lind. Pinnis L. Linn. L. Europaea. Loud,
 
 LARCH. 123 
 
 The Larch is first mentioned as growing in Eng- 
 land in 1629, but it did not become plentiful in 
 nurseries until 1759. It is stated, in the Transac- 
 tions of the Highland Society (vol. xi. p. 169), that 
 it was first planted as a forest tree at Goodwood, 
 the seat of the Duke of Richmond, near Chiches- 
 ter ; but it was not until after 1784, on the Society 
 of Arts offering gold medals and premiums for its 
 cultivation, that it became generally planted. The 
 following are some of the largest numbers of trees 
 planted about that time by the respective parties : 
 The Bishop of Llandaff, 48,500, on the high 
 grounds near Ambleside, in Westmoreland ; W. 
 Mellish, Esq. of Blythe, 47,500 ; George Wright, 
 Esq. of Gildingwells, 11,573 ; and the late Earl of 
 Fife, 181,813, in the county of Moray, in Scotland. 
 The same spirit for planting this tree has continued 
 to the present time, wherever the land has not been 
 thought more valuable for other purposes. In 
 1820 the Society for promoting Arts, &c., presented 
 his Grace the Duke of Devonshire with the gold 
 medal, for planting 1,981,065 forest trees, 980,128 
 of which were Larch. 
 
 Of the introduction of the Larch into Scotland, 
 it is stated by Headrick, in his Survey of Forfar- 
 shire: "It is generally supposed that Larches 
 were brought into Scotland by one of the Dukes 
 of Athol ; but I saw three Larches of extraordinary 
 size and age, in the garden near the mansion-house 
 of Lockhart of Lee, on the northern banks of the 
 Clyde, a few miles below Lanark. The stems and 
 branches were so much covered with lichens, that
 
 124 LARCH. 
 
 they hardly exhibited any signs of life or vegeta- 
 tion. The account I heard of them was, that 
 they were brought there by the celebrated Lock- 
 hart of Lee (who had been ambassador from Crom- 
 well to France), soon after the restoration of 
 Charles II. (about 1660). After Cromwell's death, 
 thinking himself unsafe on account of having 
 served the usurper, he retired for some time into 
 the territories of Venice ; he there observed the 
 great use the Venetians made of Larches in ship- 
 building, in piles for buildings, in the construction 
 of their houses, and for other purposes ; and when 
 he returned home, he .brought a great number of 
 large plants, in pots, in order to try if they could be 
 gradually made to endure the climate of Scotland. 
 He nursed his plants in hot-houses, and in a green- 
 house, sheltered from the cold, until they all died 
 except the three alluded to. These, in despera- 
 tion, he planted in the warmest and best sheltered 
 part of his garden, where they attained an extra- 
 ordinary height and growth." 
 
 The Common Larch, A. Larix, may be de- 
 scribed as " a tree, rising in favourable situations 
 on the Alps, and also in Britain, from eighty to 
 one hundred feet in height, with a trunk from three 
 to four feet in diameter, and having a conical head. 
 Branches subverticillate, and spreading horizontally 
 from the straight trunk ; occasionally, however, 
 rather pendulous, particularly when old. Branch- 
 lets more or less pendulous. Leaves linear, soft, 
 blunt, or rounded at the points, of an agreeable 
 light green colour ; single or fasciculated ; in the
 
 LARCK. 
 
 125 
 
 latter case many together round a central bud ; 
 spreading, and slightly recurved. Male catkins 
 without foot-stalks, globular, or slightly oblong, of 
 a light yellow colour; and, together with the 
 female catkins, or young cones, appearing in April 
 
 Foliage, Catkins ; immature and perfect Cones ; and Scale opened 
 showing the Seeds of L. Europaea.
 
 1 26 LARCH, 
 
 and the beginning of May ; the latter varying from 
 a whitish to a bright red colour. Cones of an ob- 
 long, ovate shape, erect, full one inch in length, 
 and of a brownish colour when ripe. Scales per- 
 sistent, roundish, striated, and generally slightly 
 waved, but not distinctly notched on the margin. 
 Bracts generally longer than the scales, particularly 
 towards the base of the cones. Seeds of an irregu- 
 lar or ovate form, fully one-eighth of an inch long, 
 and more than half-surrounded by the smooth, 
 shining, persistent pericarp. Cotyledons five to 
 seven." LawsorCs Manual. 
 
 In the Memoirs of the Royal Society of Agriculture 
 at Paris, for the year 1787, there is an Essay by 
 M. le President de la Tour d'Aigues, on the culture 
 of the Larch, in which it is celebrated as one of the 
 most useful of all timber trees. He tells us that 
 in his own garden he has rails which were put up 
 in the year 1743, partly of oak and partly of Larch. 
 The former, he says, have yielded to time, but the 
 latter are still sound. And in his Castle of Tour 
 d'Aigues he has Larchen beams of twenty inches 
 square, which are sound, though above two hun- 
 dred years old. The finest trees he knows of this 
 kind, grew in some parts of Dauphiny, and in 
 the forest of Baye, in Provence, where there are 
 Larches, he tells us, which two men cannot encom- 
 pass. 
 
 The timber is valuable for many purposes. It 
 is said, that old dry Larch will take such a polish 
 as to become almost transparent, and that, in this 
 state, it may be wrought into very beautiful wains-
 
 LARCH. 127 
 
 cot. In our encomium of the Larch, we must not 
 omit that the old painters used it, more than any 
 other wood, to paint on, before the use of canvas 
 became general. Many of Raphael's pictures are 
 painted on boards of Larch. It is also used by 
 the Italians for picture-frames, because no other 
 wood gives gilding such force and brilliancy. We 
 are told that this is the reason why their gilding 
 on wood is so much superior to ours. 
 
 In Switzerland they cover the roofs of their 
 houses with shingles made of Larch. These are 
 usually cut about one foot square and half an inch 
 in thickness, which they nail to the rafters. At 
 first the roof appears white, but in the course of 
 two or three years it becomes as black as coal, and 
 all the joints are stopped by the resin which the 
 sun extracts from the pores of the wood. This 
 shining varnish renders the roof impenetrable to 
 wind or rain : this is the chief covering, and, some 
 say, an incombustible one. From the Larch, too, is 
 extracted what is commonly called Venice turpen- 
 tine. This substance, or natural balsam, flows at 
 first without incision ; when it has done dropping 
 the poor people make incisions, at about two or 
 three feet from the ground, into the trunk of the 
 trees, and into these they fix narrow troughs, about 
 twenty inches long ; the end of these troughs is 
 hollow, like a ladle, and in the middle is a small 
 hole bored for the turpentine to run into a receiver 
 which is placed below it. The people who gather 
 it, visit the tree, morning and evening, from the 
 end of. May to September, to collect the turpen-
 
 1#0 LARCH. 
 
 tine out of the receivers. When it flows out of 
 the tree the turpentine is clear like water, and 
 of a yellowish white ; but as it becomes older it 
 thickens, and changes to a citron colour. It is 
 procured in great abundance in the neighbourhood 
 of Lyons, and in the valley of St. Martin, near 
 Lucerne, Switzerland. It is only after the tree 
 has attained the thickness of ten or twelve inches 
 in diameter, that it is thought worth while to col- 
 lect the turpentine ; and if the tree remain in 
 vigorous growth, it will continue, for forty or fifty 
 years, to yield annually seven or eight pounds of 
 turpentine. 
 
 The cones of the Larch, intended for seed, ought 
 to be gathered towards the latter end of Novem- 
 ber, and then kept in a dry place till the following 
 spring, when, being spread on a cloth and exposed 
 to the sun, or laid before the fire, the scales will 
 open and shed their seed. These should be sown 
 on a border exposed to the east, where they will 
 be affected by the morning sun only, as the plants 
 do not prosper so well where the sun lies much on 
 them. In autumn the young plants may be pricked 
 out into other beds, as soon as they have shed their 
 leaves, at the distance of six inches each way. In 
 two years the young trees will be ready to plant 
 where they are intended to stand ; then they need 
 not be more than eight or ten feet apart from each 
 other, but at less distance on exposed situations. 
 It is now well known, that the Larch will grow in 
 wild and barren situations better than in a luxu- 
 riant soil ; and this tree is even apt to grow top-
 
 LARCH. 129 
 
 heavy in too much shelter and nourishment. No 
 tree has been introduced into Britain with such 
 remarkable success as the Larch. Phillips says, 
 " The face of our country has, within the last thirty 
 years, been completely changed by the numerous 
 plantations of Larch that have sprung up on every 
 barren spot of these kingdoms, from the southern 
 shores to the extremity of the north, aud from the 
 Laud's End to the mouth of the Thames. So great 
 has been the demand for young trees of this species 
 of pine, that one nurseryman in Edinburgh raised 
 above five million of these trees in the year 17U6. 
 We have introduced no exotic tree that has so 
 greatly embellished the country in general. Its 
 pale and delicate green, so cheerfully enlivening 
 the dark hue of the fir and the pine, and its ele- 
 gant spiral shape, contrasting with the broad 
 spreading oak, is a no less happy contrast ; whilst 
 its stars of fasciculate foliage are displayed to 
 additional advantage, when neighbouring with the 
 broad-leaved sesculus, the glossy holly, the droop- 
 ing birch, or the tremulous aspen." 
 
 Sir T. D. Lauder considers that "The Larch is 
 unquestionably by much the most enduring tim- 
 ber we have. It is remarkable, that whilst red 
 wood or heart wood is not formed at all in the 
 other resinous trees till they have lived for many 
 years, the larch, on the other hand, begins to make 
 it soon after it is planted ; and whilst you may fell a 
 Scotch fir of thirty years old, and find no red wood 
 in it, you can hardly cut down a young Larch 
 large enough to be a walking-stick, without find-
 
 130 LARCH. 
 
 ing just such a proportion of red wood, compared 
 to its diameter as a tree, as you will find in the 
 largest Larch in the forest, when compared to its 
 diameter. To prove the value of the Larch as a 
 timber tree, we believe, at the suggestion of the 
 then Duke of Athol, posts of equal thickness and 
 strength, some of Larch and others of oak, were 
 driven down facing the river-wall, where they were 
 alternately covered with water by the effect of the 
 tide, and left dry by its fall. This species of alter- 
 nation is the most trying of all circumstances for 
 the endurance of timber, and accordingly the 
 oaken posts decayed, and were twice renewed in 
 the course of a very few years, whilst those which 
 were made of Larch remained altogether un- 
 changed." Of the Larch, Mr. Sang remarks that 
 it " bears the ascendency over the Scotch pine in 
 the following important circumstances : that it 
 brings double the price, at least per measurable 
 foot ; that it will arrive at a useful timber size in 
 one half, or a third part, of the time in general 
 which the fir requires ; and, above all, that the 
 timber of the Larch, at thirty or forty years old, 
 when planted in a soil and climate adapted to the 
 production of perfect timber, is, in every respect, 
 superior in quality to that of the fir at a hundred 
 years old." On experimental observation, the 
 Larch has been found, in Scotland, to increase 
 annually, at six feet from the ground, about one 
 inch and a half in circumference, on the trunks of 
 trees from ten to fifty years of age. In the course 
 of fifty years the tree will attain the height of
 
 LARCH. 131 
 
 eighty feet or upwards ; and, in its native habi- 
 tats, according to Willdenow, "it lives from one 
 hundred and fifty to two hundred years." 
 
 " Though we should least expect to find such 
 a quality in a resinous tree like the Larch, it has 
 been proved to make a beautiful hedge, and to sub- 
 mit with wonderful patience to the shears. We 
 once saw a very pretty fence of this description in a 
 gentleman's pleasure grounds near Loch Lomond. 
 The trees were planted at equal distances from each 
 other, and being clipped, were half cut through 
 towards the top, and bent down over each other, 
 and, in many instances, the top shoot of one had 
 insinuated itself into that adjacent to it, so as to 
 have become corporeally united to it ; and, strange 
 as it may seem, we actually found one top that 
 had so inserted itself, which, having been rather 
 deeply cut originally by the hedge-bill, had actu- 
 ally detached itself from its parent stock, and was 
 now growing, grafted on the other, with the lower 
 part of it pointing upwards into the air!" Sir 
 T. D. Lander. 
 
 There are ten or more varieties of the Larch in 
 cultivation, but as these are probably only different 
 forms of the same species, it is unnecessary to 
 enumerate them.
 
 THE LIME, OR LINDEN TREE. 
 
 [Tilia. * Europcea. Nat. Ord. Tiliacece; Linn. Poly and. 
 Monog.] 
 
 THE Common Lime-tree grows naturally straight 
 and taper, with a smooth erect trunk, and a fine 
 spreading head, inclining to a conical form. In 
 a good soil it arrives at a great height and size, 
 
 * Generic characters. Sepals 5, deciduous. Petals 5, with or 
 without a scale at the base. Stamens indefinite, free, or poly- 
 adelphous. Ovary 5 -celled, cells 2-seeded. Style 1. Fruit 1- 
 eelled, with 1 or 2 seeds.
 
 LIME. 133 
 
 arid becomes a majestic object. Thus we rea 
 that 
 
 The stately Lime, smooth, gentle, straight, and fair, 
 With which no other dryad may compare, 
 With verdant locks and fragrant blossoms decked, 
 Does a large, even, odorate shade project. 
 
 This beautiful tree is a native of the middle and 
 north of Europe, and is said to have been highly 
 esteemed among the Romans for its shade. Evelyn 
 praises the Lime as being the most proper and 
 beautiful for walks ; as producing an upright 
 body, smooth and even bark, ample leaves, sweet 
 blossom, and a goodly shade, at the distance of 
 eighteen or twenty feet. Those growing in St. 
 James's Park, London, are said to have been 
 planted at his suggestion. There are now many 
 avenues of Limes in various parts of the country. 
 At the termination of one at Colerton, Leicester- 
 shire, there is placed an urn with the following 
 tribute to the memory of Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 written by Wordsworth at the request of the pro- 
 prietor, Sir George Beaumont, Bart. : 
 
 Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed urn, 
 
 Shoot forth with lively power at spring's return ; 
 
 And be not slow a stately growth to rear 
 
 Of pillars, branching off from year to year, 
 
 Till they have learned to frame a darksome aisle, 
 
 That may recal to mind that awful pile 
 
 Where Reynolds, 'mid our country's noblest dead, 
 
 In the last sanctity of fame is laid. 
 
 There, though by right the excelling painter sleep, 
 
 Where death and glory a joint Sabbath keep ; 
 
 Yet not the less his spirit would hold dear 
 
 Self-hidden praise, and friendship's private tear ;
 
 134 LIME. 
 
 Hence, on my patrimonial grounds, have I 
 Raised this frail tribute to his memory ; 
 Prom youth a zealous follower of the art 
 That he professed, attached to him in heart ; 
 Admiring, loving, and with grief and pride, 
 Feeling what England lost when Reynolds died. 
 
 Loudon speaks of two ancient Lime-trees at 
 Zoffingen, on the branches of which is placed a 
 plank, in such a manner as to enable any one to 
 walk from the one to the other ; and thus people 
 may not only walk, but even dance, upon the foli- 
 age of the tree. In the village of Villars en Morig, 
 near Fribourg, there is a large Lime which existed 
 there long before the battle of Morat (1476), and 
 which is now of extraordinary dimensions ; it 
 was, in 1831, seventy feet high, and thirty-six feet 
 in circumference at four feet from the ground, 
 where it divided into large and perfectly sound 
 branches. It must be nearly a thousand years 
 old. And at Fribourg, in the public square, there 
 is a large Lime, the branches of which are sup- 
 ported by pieces of wood. This tree was planted 
 on the day when the victory was proclaimed of the 
 Swiss over the Duke of Burgundy, Charles the 
 Bold, in the year 1476 ; and it is a monument 
 admirably accordant with the then feebleness of 
 the Swiss republics, and the extreme simplicity 
 of their manners. In 1831 the trunk of this 
 tree measured thirteen feet nine inches in cir- 
 cumference. 
 
 Botanically considered, the Common Lime is a 
 large and handsome tree with spreading branches, 
 thicklv clothed with leaves twice the length of their
 
 LIME. 
 
 135 
 
 petioles, cordate at the base, serrate, pointed, 
 smooth except a woolly tuft at the origin of each 
 nerve beneath unequal and entire at the base ; 
 stipules oval, smooth, in pairs at the base of each 
 
 Leaves and Flowers of T. Europsea
 
 136 LIME. 
 
 foot-stalk ; flower-stalks axillar, cymose, each bear- 
 ing an oblong, pale, smooth bract, united, for half 
 its length, with the stalk; flowers of a greenish 
 colour, growing in clusters of four or five together, 
 and highly fragrant, especially at night. This 
 renders them very attractive to the bees, which is 
 referred to by Virgil, in his beautiful description 
 of the industrious Corycian, thus translated by 
 Marty n : "He therefore was the first to abound 
 with pregnant bees, and plentiful swarms, and to 
 squeeze the frothing honey from the combs. He 
 had Limes, and plenty of pines ; and as many fruits 
 as showed themselves in early blossom, so many 
 did he gather ripe in early autumn." Geo. iv. 127. 
 The seeds of the Linden-tree rarely ripen in 
 Britain ; this tree is, therefore, properly propa- 
 gated by layers, which must be made in the nur- 
 sery in autumn ; in one year they become rooted 
 so as to allow of being removed. It will grow well 
 in any soil or situation, but if planted in a rich 
 loamy earth, the rapidity of its growth will be 
 almost incredible. The timber of the Lime-tree 
 is very serviceable, and much preferable to that of 
 the willow, being stronger yet lighter. Because of 
 its colour, which is of a pale yellow or white, and 
 its easy working, and not being liable to split, 
 architects form with it their models for buildings. 
 The most elegant use to which it is applied is for 
 carving, not only for small figures, but large 
 statues in basso and alto relievo, as that of the 
 Stoning of St. Stephen, with the structures and 
 elevations about it; the trophies, festoons, fruitages,
 
 LIME. 137 
 
 friezes, capitals, pedestals, and other ornaments 
 and decorations about the choir of St. Paul's, 
 executed by Gibbons, and other carvings by the 
 same artist at Chatsworth, the seat of the Duke of 
 Devonshire, and in Trinity College Library at 
 Cambridge. It is even supposed by some that the 
 blocks employed by Holbein, for wood engravings, 
 were of this tree. Dodsley says 
 
 Smooth Linden best obeys 
 The carver's chisel ; best his curious work 
 Displays, in all its nicest touches. 
 
 It is used by piano-forte makers for sounding- 
 boards, and by cabinet-makers for a variety of 
 purposes. The wood is also said to make excellent 
 charcoal for gunpowder, even better than alder, 
 and nearly as good as hazel, while baskets arid 
 cradles are made with the twigs of the Lime ; and 
 of the smoother side of the bark, tablets for writing ; 
 for^the ancient Philyra is but our Tilia, of which 
 Hunting affirms he saw a book, made of the inner 
 bark, written about 1000 years ago ; such another 
 was brought to the Count of St. Amant, governor 
 of Arras, 1662, for which there were given 8000 
 ducats by the Emperor. It contains a work of 
 Cicero, De ordinanda Republica et de Inveniendis 
 Orationum Exordils, which is still unprinted, and 
 is now in the imperial library of Vienna, after 
 having been the greatest rarity in that of the 
 celebrated Cardinal Mazarin, who died in 1661.
 
 138 LIME. 
 
 The smoothness of the Lime-tree is thus alluded 
 to by Cowper in the Task : 
 
 Here the gray smooth trunks 
 Of ash, or Lime, or beech, distinctly shine 
 "Within the twilight of their distant shades, 
 There lost behind a rising ground, the wood 
 Seems sunk and shortened to its topmost boughs. 
 
 This peculiarity of the bark has also been noticed 
 by Leigh Hunt, in the story of Rimini : 
 
 Places of nestling green for poets made, 
 Where, when the sunshine struck a yellow shade, 
 The slender trunks to inward peeping sight, 
 Thronged, in dark pillars, up the gold-green light. 
 
 The leaves of the Lime-tree are also useful, and 
 were esteemed so in common with those of the elm 
 and poplar, both in a dried and green state for 
 feeding cattle, by the Romans. 
 
 The other two indigenous or naturalized species 
 of Lime are 
 
 2. The broad-leaved, T. grandifolia. Ehrli. Flowers without 
 nectaries ; leaves roundish, cordate, pointed, serrate, downy, espe- 
 cially beneath, with hairy tufts at the origin of the veins ; capsule 
 
 turbinate, with prominent angles, downy. Flowers in August : 
 
 found in woods and hedges. 
 
 3. The small-leaved, T. parvifolia. Ehrh. Flowers without 
 nectaries ; leaves scarcely longer than then 1 petioles, roundish, 
 cordate, serrate, pointed, glaucous beneath, with hairy tufts at the 
 origin of the veins, and scattered hairy blotches ; capsule roundish, 
 
 with slender ribs, thin, brittle, nearly smooth. A handsome 
 
 tree, distinguished from the former by its much smaller leaves and 
 flowers: germen densely woolly: flowers in August: grows in 
 woods in Essex, Sussex, &c.: frequent.
 
 THE MAPLE-TREE. 
 
 [Acer.* Nat. Ord. Aceracece; Linn. Octan. Monoy.] 
 
 THE Common Maple (A.campestre) is found through- 
 out the middle states of Europe, and in the north 
 of Asia. It is common in hedges and thickets in 
 the middle and south of England, but is rare in 
 the northern counties and in Scotland, and is not 
 indigenous in Ireland. It is a rather small tree, of 
 no great figure, so that it is seldom seen employed 
 in any nobler service than in filling up a part in a 
 
 * Generic characters. Calyx inferior, 5-cleft. Petals 5, obo- 
 vate. Fruit consisting of 2 capsules, united at the base, indehis- 
 cent and winged (a samara). Trees, with simple leaves and 
 flowers, often polygamous, in axillary corymbs or racemes.
 
 140 MAPLE. 
 
 hedge, in company with thorns and briers. In a 
 few instances, where it is met with in a state of 
 maturity, its form appears picturesque. It is not 
 much unlike the oak, only it is more bushy, and its 
 branches are closer and more compact. Although 
 it seldom attains a height of more than twenty feet, 
 yet in favourable situations it rises to forty feet, 
 as may be seen in Eastwell Park, Kent, and in 
 Caversham Park, near Reading. The Rev. William 
 Gilpin, from whose Remarks on Forest Scenery we 
 have derived much interesting matter, is buried 
 under the shade of a very large Maple in the church- 
 yard of Boldre, in the New Forest, Hampshire. 
 
 The botanical characters of A. campestre are : 
 Leaves about one and a half inch in width, downy 
 while young, as are their foot-stalks, obtusely five- 
 lobed, here and there notched, sometimes quite 
 entire. Flowers green, in clusters that terminate 
 the young shoots, hairy, erect, short, and somewhat 
 corymbose. Anthers hairy between the lobes. Cap- 
 sules downy, spreading horizontally, with smooth, 
 oblong, reddish wings. Bark corky, and full of 
 fissures ; that of the branches smooth. Flowers 
 in May and June. 
 
 The ancients held this tree in great repute. 
 Ovid compares it to the Lime : 
 
 The Maple not unlike the lime-tree grows, 
 Like her, her spreading arms abroad she throws, 
 Well clothed with leaves, but that the Maple's bole 
 Is clad by nature with a ruder stole. 
 
 Pliny speaks as highly of its knobs and its excres- 
 cences, called the brusca and mollusca, as Dr. Plot
 
 MAPLE. 
 
 141 
 
 does of those of the ash. The veins of these ex- 
 crescences in the Maple, Pliny tells us, were so 
 variegated that they exceeded the beauty of any 
 other wood, even of the citron ; though the citron 
 was in such repute at Rome, that Cicero, who was 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit of A. campestre.
 
 142 MAPLE. 
 
 neither rich nor expensive, was tempted to give 
 10,000 sesterces for a citron table. The brusca 
 and mollusca, Pliny adds, were rarely of a size 
 sufficient for the larger species of furniture, but in 
 all smaller cabinet-work they were inestimable. 
 Indeed, the whole tree was esteemed by the an- 
 cients on account of its variegated wood, especially 
 the white, which is singularly beautiful. This is 
 called the French Maple, and grows in northern 
 Italy, between the Po and the Alps ; the other has 
 a curled grain, so curiously spotted, that it was 
 called, from a near resemblance, the peacock's 
 tail. So mad were people formerly in searching 
 for the representations of birds, beasts, and other 
 objects in the bruscum of this tree, that they 
 spared no expense in procuring it. 
 
 The timber is used for musical instruments, in- 
 laying, <fec., and is reckoned superior to most woods 
 for turnery ware. Our poets generally place a 
 Maple dish in every hermitage they speak of. 
 
 Methinks that to some vacant hermitage 
 My feet would rather turn, to some dry nook 
 Scooped out of living rock, and near a brook 
 Hurled down a mountain-cave, from stage to stage, 
 Yet tempering, for my sight, its bustling rage 
 In the soft haven of a translucent pool ; 
 Thence creeping under forest arches cool, 
 Fit haunt of shapes whose glorious equipage 
 Would elevate my dreams. A beechen bowl, 
 A Maple dish, my furniture should be ; 
 Crisp, yellow leaves my bed ; the hooting owl 
 My night-watch ; nor should e'er the crested fowl 
 From thorp or vil his matins sound for me, 
 Tired of the world and all its industry. 
 
 WORDSWORTH, Eccl. Sk., 22.
 
 MAPLE. 143 
 
 Wilson and Cowper also furnish the hermit's cell 
 with a Maple dish, while Mason notes one that 
 lacked this article, deemed so requisite for such a 
 habitation : 
 
 Many a visitant 
 Had sat within his hospitable cave ; 
 From his Maple bowl, the unpolluted spring 
 Drunk fearless, and with him partook the bread 
 That his pale lips most reverently had blessed, 
 With words becoming such a holy man. 
 
 His dwelling a recess im some rude rock, 
 Books, beads, and Maple dish his meagre stock. 
 
 It seemed a hermit's cell, 
 Yet void of hour-glass, skull, and Maple dish. 
 
 There is an American species of the Maple, A. 
 saccharinum, which yields a considerable quantity 
 of sap, from which the Canadians make sugar of 
 an average quality. The season for tapping the 
 trees is in February, March, and April. From a 
 pint to five gallons of syrup may be obtained from 
 one tree in a day ; though, when a frosty night is 
 succeeded by a dry and brilliant day, the rush of 
 sap is much greater. The yearly product of sugar 
 from each tree is about three pounds. Trees which 
 grow in lone and moist places, afford a greater 
 quantity of sap than those which occupy rising 
 ground ; but it is less rich in the saccharine prin- 
 ciple. That of insulated trees, left standing in 
 the middle of fields, or by the side of fences, is the 
 best. It is also remarked, that in districts which 
 have been cleared of other trees, and even of the 
 less vigorous sugar maples, the product of the
 
 144 MAPLE. 
 
 remainder is proportionally greater. The sap is 
 converted into sugar by boiling, till reduced to the 
 proper consistency for being poured into moulds. 
 
 There are now cultivated in England more 
 than twenty species of Maple, brought from every 
 quarter of the globe, several of which are likely to 
 prove hardy. They are among the most orna- 
 mental trees of artificial plantations, on account 
 of the great beauty and variety of their foliage, 
 which changes to a fine scarlet, or rich yellow, in 
 autumn. The larger growing species are often 
 many years before they come to flower, and, after 
 they do so, they sometimes flower several years 
 before they mature seeds.
 
 THE MOUNTAIN-ASH, OR ROWAN-TREE. 
 
 [Pyrus. * Nat. Ord. Rosacece; Linn. Icosan. Pentag.] 
 
 THE Mountain-Ash (P. aucuparia) is a native of 
 most parts of Europe, and western Asia. It is also 
 found in Japan, and in the most northern parts of 
 North America. In Britain it is common in woods 
 and hedges in mountainous, but rather moist situ- 
 ations, in every part of the island, and also in 
 Ireland. It forms an erect-stemmed tree, with an 
 
 * Generic characters. Calyx superior, monosepalous, 5-cleft. 
 Petals 5. Styles 2 to 5. Fruit a pome, 5-celled, each cell 2- 
 seeded, cartilaginous.
 
 146 MOONTAIN-ASH. 
 
 orbicular head. When fully grown, like every 
 other description of Pyrus, it assumes a somewhat 
 formal character, but in a young state its branches 
 are disposed in a more loose and graceful manner. 
 In the Scottish Highlands, according to Lauder, 
 " it becomes a considerable tree. There, on some 
 rocky mountain covered with dark pines and waving 
 birch, which cast a solemn gloom over the. lake 
 below, a few Mountain-Ashes, joining in a clump, 
 and mixing with them, have a fine effect. In sum- 
 mer the light green tint of their foliage, and in 
 autumn the glowing berries which hang clus- 
 tering upon them, contrast beautifully with the 
 deeper green of the pines ; and if they are happily 
 blended, and not in too large a proportion, they 
 add some of the most picturesque furniture with 
 which the sides of those rugged mountains are 
 invested." 
 
 The stems of the Mountain- Ash are covered with 
 a smooth gray bark, and the branches, while young, 
 have a smooth purplish bark. The leaves are pin- 
 nate, downy beneath, serrated ; panicle corymbose, 
 with downy stalks ; flowers numerous, white ; fruit 
 globose, scarlet, acid, and austere. Flowers in 
 May and June. 
 
 The Mountain- Ash is almost always raised from 
 seed, which may be sown any time from November 
 to February. The tree grows rapidly for the first 
 three or four years, attaining, in five years, the 
 height of from eight to nine feet ; after which it 
 begins to form a head, and, in ten years, will at- 
 tain the height of twenty feet. As it grows rapidly,
 
 MOUNTAIN-ASH. 
 
 147 
 
 even in the most exposed situations, it forms an 
 admirable nurse-tree to the oak, and other slow- 
 growing species ; the more so as it is incapable of 
 being drawn up by culture above a certain height, 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit of P. aucuparia.
 
 148 MOUNTAIN-ASH. 
 
 thereafter quietly submitting to be over-topped 
 and destroyed, by the shade and drip of those which 
 it was planted to shelter and protect. It is fre- 
 quently planted for coppice-wood, the shoots being 
 well adapted for poles, and for hoops, and the 
 bark being in demand by tanners. The wood is 
 fine-grained, hard, capable of being stained any 
 colour, and of taking a high polish. It is much 
 used for the husbandman's tools, goads, &c., and 
 the wheelwright values it on account of its being 
 homogeneous, or all heart. If the tree be large and 
 fully grown, it will yield planks, boards, and tim- 
 ber. Next to the yew it was useful for bows a cir- 
 cumstance we ought not to omit recording, if it 
 were only to perpetuate th celebrity of our once 
 English ancestors. It is named, in a statute of 
 Henry VIII. as being serviceable for this pur- 
 pose. It makes excellent fuel ; though Evelyn 
 says he never observed any use, except that the 
 blossoms are of an agreeable scent, and the berries 
 offer such temptation to the thrushes, that, as long 
 as they last, you may be sure of their company. 
 Ale and beer brewed with these berries, being ripe, 
 is esteemed an incomparable drink. In Wales, 
 this tree is reputed so sacred, that there is scarcely 
 a churchyard without one of them growing there- 
 in. And formerly and, we believe, in some parts 
 even now on a certain day in the year many 
 persons religiously wore a cross made of the 
 wood. 
 
 Keats, in his early poems, notices the loftiness 
 of this tree, and its waving head :
 
 MOUNTAIN-ASH. 149 
 
 He was withal 
 
 A man of elegance and stature tall ; 
 So that the waving of his plumes would be 
 High as the berries of a wild Ash-tree, 
 Or the winged cap of Mercury. 
 
 In former days, when superstition prevailed, the 
 Mountain- Ash was considered an object of great 
 veneration. Often at this day a stump of it is 
 found in some old burying-place, or near the circle 
 of a Druid temple, whose rites it formerly invested 
 with its sacred shade. It was supposed to be, and 
 in some places still is esteemed to be, possessed of 
 the property of driving away witches and evil 
 spirits, and this property is recorded in one of the 
 stanzas of a very ancient song, called the Laidley 
 Worm of Spindleston HeugJis : 
 
 Their spells were vain, the hags return'd 
 To the queen, in sorrowful mood, 
 Crying that witches have no pow'r 
 Where there is roan-tree wood. 
 
 That the superstition respecting the virtues of 
 this tree does exist in Yorkshire at the present 
 day, we know, and of the truth of the following 
 anecdote, related by Waterton, the author of the 
 celebrated Wanderings, we have not the slightest 
 doubt ; it is printed in one of his communications 
 to the Magazine of Natural History : " In the 
 village of Walton," says Mr. Waterton, "I have 
 two small tenants ; the name of one is James 
 Simpson, and that of the other Sally Holloway ; 
 and Sally's stands a little before the house of 
 Simpson. Some three months ago I overtook
 
 150 MOUNTAIN- ASH. 
 
 Simpson on the turnpike road, and I asked him if 
 his cow was getting better, for his son had told me 
 that she had fallen sick. ' She's coming on sur- 
 prisingly, Sir,' quoth he; 'the last time the cow- 
 doctor came to see her, " Jem," said he to me, 
 looking earnestly at Old Sally's house; "Jem," 
 said he, " mind and keep your cowhouse door shut 
 before the sun goes down, otherwise I won't answer 
 for what may happen to the cow." " Ay, ay, my 
 lad," said I, "I understand your meaning; but I 
 am up to the old slut, and I defy her to do me any 
 harm now!" 'And what has Old Sally been 
 doing to you, James ?' said I. ' Why, Sir,' replied 
 he, ' we all know too well what she can do. She 
 has long owed me a grudge ; and my cow, which 
 was in very good health, fell sick immediately after 
 Sally had been seen to look in at the door of the 
 'cowhouse, just as night was coming on. The cow 
 grew worse, and so I went and cut a bit of wiggin 
 (Mountain- Ash), and I nailed the branches all up 
 and down the cowhouse ; and, Sir, you may see 
 them there if you will take the trouble to step in. 
 I am a match for Old Sally now, and she can't do 
 me any more harm, so long as the wiggin branches 
 hang in the place where I have nailed them. My 
 poor cow will get better in spite of her.' Alas ! 
 thought I to myself, as the deluded man was finish- 
 ing his story, how much there is yet to be done in 
 our own country by the schoolmaster of the nine- 
 teenth century !" 
 
 The Mountain-Ash, so esteemed among our 
 northern neighbours as a protection against the
 
 MOUNTAIN-ASH. 151 
 
 evil designs of wizards and witches, is propagated 
 by the Parisians for a very different purpose. It 
 is used as one of the principal charms for en- 
 ticing the French belles into the public gardens, 
 where they are permitted to use all the spells and 
 witcheries of which they are mistresses ; and cer- 
 tainly this tree, ornamented by its brilliant scarlet 
 fruit, has a most enchanting appearance when 
 lighted up with lamps, in the months of August 
 and September. 
 
 The varieties of the Mountain- Ash are : 
 
 2. P. fructu luteo, with yellow berries. 3. P. foliis variegatis, 
 with variegated leaves. 4. P. fastigiata, with the branches 
 upright and rigid, 5. P. pinnatifida, with deeply pinnatified 
 leaves.
 
 THE BLACK-FRUITED MULBERRY. 
 
 [Morus nigra.* Nat. Ord. Urticacea: ; Linn. Monoe. Tetra.~\ 
 
 THE Black-fruited, or Common Mulberry, is gene- 
 rally supposed to be a native of Persia, where there 
 are still masses of it found in a wild state. It was 
 first brought to England in 1548, when some trees 
 
 * Morus. Flowers unisexual; barren flowers disposed in a 
 drooping, peduncled, axillary spike; fertile flowers in ovate, 
 erect spikes. Calyx of 4 equal sepals, imbricate in estivation, 
 expanded in flowering. Stamens 4. Ovary 2-celled, one includ- 
 ing one pendulous ovate, the other devoid of any. Stigmas 2, 
 long. Seed pendulous.
 
 MULBERRY. 153 
 
 were planted at Sion, near London, one of which 
 still survives. About 1608 James I. recommended 
 by royal edict, and by letter in his own writ- 
 ing to the lord-lieutenant of every county, the 
 planting of Mulberry-trees and the rearing of silk- 
 worms, which are fed upon the leaves ; also offer- 
 ing plants at three farthings each, and packets of 
 Mulberry seeds to all who would sow them. Al- 
 though the king failed to naturalize the production 
 of silk in this country, he rendered the tree so 
 fashionable, that there is scarcely an old garden 
 or gentleman's seat throughout the country, which 
 can be traced back to the seventeenth century, in 
 which a Mulberry tree is not to be found. It was 
 at this time that Shakspeare planted the one in his 
 garden at Stratford-on-Avon, which was known as 
 " Shakspeare's Mulberry- Tree," until it was felled 
 in 1756 ; and that it was a black Mulberry we 
 learn from Mr. Drake, a native of Stratford, who 
 frequently in his youth ate of its fruit, some 
 branches of which hung over the wall which 
 bounded his father's garden. Drake's Shakspeare, 
 vol. ii., p. 584. 
 
 In this country the Black-fruited Mulberry al- 
 ways assumes something of a dwarf or stunted 
 character, spreading into thick arms or branches 
 near the ground, and forming a very large head. 
 The bark is rough and thick, and^the leaves cor- 
 date, unequally serrated, and very rough. The 
 fruit is large, of a dark purple, very wholesome, 
 and agreeable to the palate. This tree is re- 
 markable for the slowness of its growth, and for
 
 1 54 MULBERRY. 
 
 being one of the last trees to develope its leaves, 
 though it is one of the first to ripen its fruit. It 
 is also wonderfully tenacious of life: "the roots 
 of one which had lain dormant in the ground for 
 twenty-four years, being said, after the expiration 
 of that time, to have sent up shoots." 
 
 The Black-fruited Mulberry will grow in almost 
 any soil or situation that is moderately dry, and in 
 any climate not much colder than that of London. 
 North of York it requires a wall, except in very 
 favourable situations. It is very easily propagated 
 by truncheons, or pieces of branches, eight or nine 
 feet in length, planted half their depth in tolerably 
 good soil, when they will bear fruit the following 
 year. It is now rarely propagated by seeds, which 
 seldom ripen in this country. No tree, perhaps, 
 receives more benefit from the spade and the dung- 
 hill than the Mulberry ; it ought, therefore, to be 
 frequently dug about the roots, and occasionally 
 assisted with manure. The fruit is very much 
 improved by the tree being trained as an espalier, 
 within the reflection of a south wall. As a standard 
 tree, whether for ornament or the production of 
 well-sized fruit, the Mulberry requires very little 
 pruning, or attention of any kind. 
 
 The Black-fruited Mulberry has been known 
 from the earliest records of antiquity ; it is men- 
 tioned four times in the Bible, 2 Sam. v. 23, 24 ; 
 1 Chron. xiv. 14, 15. It was dedicated by the 
 Greeks to Minerva, probably because it was con- 
 sidered as the wisest of trees ; and Jupiter the 
 Protector was called Mored. Ovid has celebrated
 
 MULBERRY. 
 
 155 
 
 the Black Mulberry in the story of Pyramus and 
 Thisbe ; in which he relates that its fruit was snow- 
 white until the commingled blood of the unfor- 
 tunate lovers, who killed themselves under its 
 shade, was absorbed by its roots, when 
 
 Dark in the rising tide the berries grew, 
 And white no longer, took a sable hue ; 
 
 Leaves and Fruits of M. nigra.
 
 156 MULBERRY. 
 
 But brighter crimson springing from the root, 
 Shot through the black, and purpled all the fruit. 
 
 Cowley, in the fifth book of his poem on plants, 
 has given a very plain and accurate description of 
 the apparently cautious habits of this tree. He 
 also thus alludes to the above fable : 
 
 But cautiously the Mulberry did move, 
 And first the temper of the skies would prove ; 
 "What sign the sun was in, and if she might 
 Give credit yet to winter's seeming flight : 
 She dares not venture on his first retreat, 
 Nor trust her fruit or leaves to doubtful heat ; 
 Her ready sap within her bark confines, 
 Till she of settled warmth has certain signs ! 
 Then, making rich amends for the delay, 
 "With sudden haste she dons her green array ; 
 In two short months her purple fruit appears, 
 And of two lovers slain the tincture wears. 
 Her fruit is rich, but she doth leaves produce 
 Of far surpassing worth, and noble use. 
 ***** 
 
 * * * They supply 
 
 The ornaments of royal luxury : 
 
 The beautiful they make more beauteous seem, 
 
 The charming sex owe half their charms to them ; 
 
 To them effeminate men their vestments owe ; 
 
 How vain the pride which insect worms bestow ! 
 
 Besides the Black-fruited Mulberry, there are 
 four other species sufficiently hardy to bear our 
 climate without protection ; but it will be here 
 sufficient to give a short account of the White- 
 fruited (M. alba) as the next best known, and as 
 the species whose leaves are used in feeding silk- 
 worms. M. alba, is only found truly wild in the 
 Chinese province of Seres, or Serica. It was
 
 MULBERRY. 157 
 
 brought to Constantinople about the beginning of 
 the sixth century, and was introduced into England 
 in 1596, where it is still not very common. In the 
 south of Europe it is grown in plantations by itself, 
 like willows and fruit trees ; also in hedge-rows, and 
 as hedges, as far north as Frankfort-on-the-Oder. 
 When allowed to arrive at maturity, this tree is 
 not less beautiful than the fairest elm, often reach- 
 ing thirty or forty feet in height. When cultivated 
 to furnish food for the silk-worms, the trees are 
 never allowed to grow higher than three or four feet 
 being cut down to the ground every year in the same 
 manner as a raspberry plantation. In France and 
 Italy the leaves are gathered only once a-year ; 
 and when the trees are then wholly stripped, no 
 injury arises from the operation ; but if any leaves 
 are left on the trees, they generally receive a severe 
 shock. 
 
 The specific characters of the White-fruited Mul- 
 berry are Leaves with a deep scallop at the base, 
 and either cordate or ovate, undivided or lobed, 
 serrated with unequal teeth, glossy or smoothish, 
 the projecting portions on the two sides of the basal 
 sinus unequal. The fruit is seldom good for hu- 
 man food, but is excellent for poultry. It is a tree 
 of rapid growth, attaining the height of twenty feet 
 in five or six years, and plants cut down producing 
 shoots four or five feet long in one season.
 
 THE BRITISH OAK. 
 
 [Quercus. * Nat. Ord. Amentiferas ; Linn. Moncec. Polya.~\ 
 
 The Oak, when living, monarch of the wood; 
 
 The English Oak, when dead, commands the flood. 
 
 CUUKCHILL. 
 
 ON our entrance into the Woodland, the eye first 
 greets the majestic Oak, which is represented as 
 holding the same rank among the plants of the 
 temperate regions throughout the world, that the 
 lion does among quadrupeds, and the eagle among 
 birds ; that is to say, it is the emblem of grandeur, 
 
 * Generic characters. Barren flowers arranged in a loose, 
 pendulous catkin, the perianth single, the stamens 5-10. Fertile 
 flower in a cupulate, scaly involucrum, with 3 stigmas. Fruit 
 an acorn, 1-celled, 1-seeded, seated in the cupulate, scaly involu- 
 erum.
 
 OAK. 159 
 
 strength, and duration ; of force that resists, as 
 the lion is of force that acts. In short, its bulk, 
 its longevity, and the extraordinary strength and 
 durability of its timber, constitute it the King of 
 Forest trees. These and other characteristics of 
 the Oak are graphically expressed by the Roman 
 poet : 
 
 Jove's own tree, 
 
 That holds the woods in awful sovereignty, 
 Requires a depth of loading in the ground, 
 And next the lower skies a bed profound ; 
 High as his topmast boughs to heaven ascend, 
 So low his roots to hell's dominions tend. 
 Therefore, nor winds, nor winter's rage o'erthrows 
 His bulky body, but unmoved he grows. 
 For length of ages lasts his happy reign, 
 And lives of mortal men contend in vain. 
 Full in the midst of his own strength he stands, 
 Stretching his brawny arms and leafy hands ; 
 His shade protects the plains, his head the hills commands. 
 
 Virgil's Georgics, u. 
 
 " The Oak grows naturally in the middle and 
 south of Europe ; in the north of Africa ; and, in 
 Asia, in Natolia, the Himalayas, Cochin-China, 
 and Japan, In America it abounds throughout 
 the greater part of the northern continent, more 
 especially in the United States. In Europe, the 
 Oak has been, and is, more particularly abundant 
 in Britain, France, Spain, and Italy. In Britain 
 two species only are indigenous ; in France there 
 are four or five sorts ; and in Spain, Italy, and 
 Greece, six or seven sorts. The number of sorts 
 described by botanists as species, and as natives of 
 Europe, exceed 30 ; and as natives of North Ame-
 
 160 OAK. 
 
 rica, 40. The latter are all comprised between 20 
 and 48 N. lat. In Europe, Asia, and Africa, Oaks 
 are found from 60 to 18 N. lat., and even in the 
 Torrid Zone, in situations rendered temperate by 
 their elevation." 
 
 In Britain, the Oak is everywhere indigenous, 
 the two species being generally found growing to- 
 gether in a wild state. It, however, requires a soil 
 more or less alluvial or loamy to attain its full size, 
 and to bring its timber to perfection ; these being 
 seldom attained in the Highlands of Scotland, where 
 it is still abundant in an indigenous state. The two 
 species, Q. robur, or pedunculata, and Q. sessili- 
 flora, are readily distinguished from each other by 
 the first having the leaves on short stalks, and the 
 acorns on long stalks, the other by the leaves being 
 long -stalked, and the acorns short-stalked. In 
 full-grown trees of the two species there is little or 
 no difference either in magnitude and general ap- 
 pearance, or in quality of timber. Q. robur being 
 the most abundant, is called the Common Oak. 
 Its twigs are smooth and grayish-brown: leaves 
 deciduous, sessile, of a thin texture, obovate-oblong, 
 serrated, with the lobes entire, and nearly blunt, 
 diminishing towards the base ; a little blistered, 
 and scarcely glossy, with some down occasionally 
 on the under side: acorns oblong, obtuse, much 
 longer than the hemispherical scaly cup, placed on 
 long peduncles. The distinguishing characters or 
 the less common species, Q. sessiliflora, the sessile- 
 fruited oak, are, leaves on longish foot-stalks, 
 deciduous, smooth, and oblong, the sinuses oppo-
 
 OAK. 
 
 161 
 
 site, and rather acute, the fruit sessile, oblong. In 
 other respects it so closely resembles the other 
 species, that of the numerous trees recorded for 
 their enormous dimensions, age, and other pecu- 
 liarities, the species is seldom particularized. 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit of Q. robur.
 
 162 OAK. 
 
 Loudon believed that no important or constant 
 difference exists between the mode of growth of the 
 two kinds, individuals of both being found equally 
 pyramidal, fastigiate, or orbicular. He considered, 
 however, that Q. sessiliflora could "readily be dis- 
 tinguished even at a distance, by the less tufted 
 appearance, and generally palish green of its 
 foliage in summer, and in winter by its less tor- 
 tuous spray and branches, by its light coloured 
 bark, by its large buds, and by its frequently re- 
 taining its leaves after they had withered, till the 
 following spring." 
 
 The Oak, says Mr. Gilpin, is confessedly the most 
 picturesque tree in itself, and the most, accommo- 
 dating in composition. It refuses no subject, either 
 in natural or artificial landscape ; it is suited to the 
 grandest, and may with propriety be introduced 
 into the most pastoral. It adds new dignity to the 
 ruined tower and Gothic arch ; it throws its arms 
 with propriety over the mantling pool, and may be 
 happily introduced into the humblest scene. 
 
 Imperial Oak, a cottage in thy shade 
 Finds safety, or a monarch in thy arms : 
 Respectful generations see thee spread, 
 Careless of centuries, even in decay 
 Majestic : thy far-shadowing boughs contend 
 With time : the obsequious winds shall visit thee, 
 To scatter round the children of thy age, 
 And eternize thy latest benefits. 
 
 W. TlQHE. 
 
 The longevity of the Oak is supposed to extend 
 beyond that of any other tree. It is through age
 
 OAK. 163 
 
 that the Oak acquires its greatest beauty, which 
 often continues increasing, even into decay, if 
 any proportion exists between the stem and the 
 branches. When the branches rot away, and the 
 trunk is left alone, the tree is in its decrepitude, 
 the last stage of life, and all the beauty is gone. 
 
 Spenser has given us a good picture of an Oak 
 just verging towards its last stage of decay : 
 
 A huge Oak, dry and dead, 
 Still clad with reliques of its trophies old, 
 Lifting to heaven its aged, hoary head, 
 "Whose foot on earth hath got but feeble hold, 
 And, half disbowelled, stands above the ground 
 With wreathed roots, and naked arms, 
 And trunk all rotten and unsound. 
 
 He also compares a gray-headed old man to an aged 
 Oak-tree, covered with frost : 
 
 There they do find that goodly aged sire, 
 With snowy locks adown his shoulders shed ; 
 As hoary frost with spangles doth attire 
 The mossy branches of an Oak half dead. 
 
 Montgomery, too, does not forget to observe the 
 longevity of the sturdy Oak : 
 
 As some triumphal Oak, whose boughs hare spread 
 Their changing foliage through a thousand years, 
 Bows to the rushing wind its glorious head. 
 
 As we before noted, the beauty of almost every 
 species of tree increases after its prime ; but unless 
 it hath the good fortune to stand in some place of 
 difficult access, or under the protection of some
 
 164 OAK. 
 
 patron whose mansion it adorns, we rarely see it in 
 that grandeur and dignity which it would acquire 
 by age. Some of the noblest Oaks in England 
 were, at least formerly, found in Sussex. They re- 
 quired sometimes a score of oxen to draw them, 
 and were carried on a sort of wain, which in that 
 deep country is expressly called a tugg. It was not 
 uncommon for it to spend two or three years in 
 performing its journey to the Royal dock-yard at 
 Chatham. One tugg carried the load only a little 
 way, and left it for another tugg to take up. If 
 the rains set in, it stirred no more that year ; and 
 frequently no part of the next summer was dry 
 enough for the tugg to proceed : so that the timber 
 was generally pretty well seasoned before it arrived 
 at its destination. 
 
 In this fallen state alone, it is true, the tree be- 
 comes the basis of England's glory, though we re- 
 gret its fall. Therefore, we must not repine, but 
 address the children of the wood as the gallant 
 Oak, on his removal from the forest, is said to have 
 addressed the scion by his side : 
 
 Where thy great grandsire spread his awful shade, 
 A holy Druid mystic circles made ; 
 Myself a sapling when thy grandsire bore 
 Intrepid Edward to the Gallic shore. 
 Me, now my country calls : adieu, my son I 
 And, as the circling years in order run, 
 May'st thou renew the forest's boast and pride, 
 Victorious in some future contest ride. 
 
 We are sure that all who can appreciate beauti-
 
 OAK. 165 
 
 ful poetry -will be gratified by the following pathetic 
 lamentation of the elegant Vanier : 
 
 No greater beauty can adorn 
 The hamlet, than a grove of ancient Oak. 
 
 Ah ! how unlike their sires of elder times 
 The sons of Gallia now ! They, in each tree 
 Dreading some unknown power, dared not to lift 
 An axe. Though scant of soil, they rather sought 
 For distant herbage, than molest their groves. 
 
 Now all is spoil and violence. "Where now 
 Exists an Oak, whose venerable stem 
 Has seen three centuries ? unless some steep, 
 To human footstep inaccessible, 
 Defend a favour'd plant. Now, if some sire 
 Leave to his heir a forest scene, that heir, 
 With graceless hands, hews down each awful trunk, 
 Worthy of Druid reverence. There he rears 
 A paltry copse, destined, each twentieth year, 
 To blaze inglorious on the hearth. Hence woods, 
 Which shelter'd once the stag and grisly boar, 
 Scarce to the timorous hare sure refuge lend. 
 Farewell each rural virtue, with the love 
 Of rural scenes ! Sage Contemplation wings 
 Her flight ; no more from burning suns she seeks 
 A cool retreat. No more the poet sings, 
 Amid re-echoing groves, his moral lay. 
 
 As it is thus a general complaint that noble trees 
 are rarely to be found, we must seek them where 
 we can, and consider them, when found, as matters 
 of curiosity, and pay them a due respect. And 
 yet, we should suppose, they are not so frequently 
 found here in a state of nature as in more un- 
 cultivated countries. In the forests of America, 
 and other scenes, they have filled the plains from 
 the beginning of time ; and where they grow so 
 close, and cover the ground with so impervious a
 
 166 
 
 OAK. 
 
 shade that even a weed can scarce rise beneath 
 them, the single tree is lost. Unless it stand on 
 the outskirt of the wood, it is circumscribed, and 
 has not room to expand its vast limbs as nature 
 directs. When we wish, therefore, to find the most 
 sublime sylvan character, the Oak, the elm, or the 
 ash, in perfection, we must not look for it in close, 
 thick woods, but standing single, independent of all 
 connections, as we sometimes find it in our own 
 forests, though oftener in better protected places, 
 shooting its head wildly into the clouds, spreading 
 its arms towards every wind of heaven : 
 
 The Oak 
 
 Thrives by the rude concussion of the storm. 
 He seems indignant, and to feel 
 The impression of the blast with proud disdain ; 
 But, deeply earth'd, the unconscious monarch owes 
 His firm stability to what he scorns : 
 More fix'd below, the more disturb'd above. 
 
 Again, we are told that the foliage of the Oak is 
 
 Tenacious of the stem, and firm against the wind. 
 
 The shade of the Oak-tree has been a favourite 
 theme with British poets. Thomson, speaking of 
 Hagley Park, the seat of his friend Littleton, calls 
 it the British Tempe, and describes him as court- 
 ing the muse beneath the shade of solemn Oaks : 
 
 There, along the dale 
 
 With woods o'erhung, and shagged with mossy rocks, 
 Whence on each hand the gushing waters play, 
 And down the rough cascade white dashing fall, 
 Or gleam in lengthened vista through the trees, 
 You silent steal ; or sit beneath the shade 
 Of solemn Oaks, that tuft the swelling mounts,
 
 OAK. 167 
 
 Thrown graceful round by Nature's careless hand, 
 And pensive listens to the various voice 
 Of rural peace : the herds, the flocks, the birds, 
 The hollow whispering breeze, the plaint of rills, 
 That, purling down amid the twisted roots 
 "Which creep around, their dewy murmurs shake 
 On the soothed ear. 
 
 Wordsworth also mentions the fine broad shade of 
 the spreading Oak : 
 
 Beneath that large old Oak, which near their door 
 Stood, and, from its enormous breadth of shade, 
 Chosen for the shearer's covert from the sun, 
 Thence, in our rustic dialect, was called 
 The clipping tree : a name which yet it bears. 
 
 The Oaks of Chaucer are particularly celebrated, 
 as the trees under which 
 
 The laughing sage 
 Caroll'd his moral song. 
 
 They grew in the park at Donnington Castle, near 
 Newbury, where Chaucer spent his latter life in 
 studious retirement. The largest of these trees 
 was the King's Oak, and carried an erect stem of 
 fifty feet before it broke into branches, and was cut 
 into a beam five feet square. The next in size was 
 called the Queen's Oak, and survived the calami- 
 ties of the civil wars in King Charles's time, though 
 Donnington Castle and the country around it were 
 so often the scenes of action and desolation. Its 
 branches were very curious : they pushed out from 
 the stem in several uncommon directions, imitating 
 the horns of a ram, rather than the branches of an 
 Oak. When it was felled, it yielded a beam forty 
 feet long, without knot or blemish, perfectly straight,
 
 168 OAK. 
 
 four feet square at the butt end, and near a yard 
 at the top. The third of these Oaks was called 
 Chaucer's, of which we have no particulars ; in 
 general only we are told, that it was a noble tree, 
 though inferior to either of the others. Not one 
 of them, we should suppose, from this account, to 
 be a tree of picturesque beauty. A straight stem, 
 of forty or fifty feet, let its head be what it will, 
 can hardly produce a picturesque form. 
 
 Close by the gate of the water-walk at Magdalen 
 College, Oxford, grew an Oak, which, perhaps, 
 stood there a sapling when Alfred the Great 
 founded the University. This period only includes 
 a space of nine hundred years, which is no great 
 age for an Oak. It is a difficult matter indeed, to 
 ascertain the age of a tree. The age of a castle, 
 or abbey, is an object of history : even a common 
 house is recorded by the family that built it. All 
 these objects arrive at maturity in their youth, if 
 we may so speak ; but the tree, gradually com- 
 pleting its growth, is not worth recording in the 
 early part of its existence. It is then only a com- 
 mon tree ; and afterwards, when it becomes remark- 
 able for its age, all memory of its youth is lost. 
 This tree, however, can almost produce historical evi- 
 dence for the age assigned to it. About five hun- 
 dred years after the time of Alfred, William of 
 Wainfleet, Dr. Stukely tells us, expressly ordered 
 his college to be founded near the Great Oak ; and 
 an Oak could not, we think, be less than five hun- 
 dred years of age to merit that title, together with 
 the honour of fixing the site of a college. When
 
 OAK. 169 
 
 the magnificence of Cardinal Wolsey erected that 
 handsome tower which is so ornamental to the 
 whole building, this tree might probably be in the 
 meridian of its glory, or rather, perhaps, it had 
 attained a green old age. But it must have been 
 manifestly in its decline at that memorable period 
 when the tyranny of James gave the Fellows of 
 Magdalen so noble an opportunity of withstand- 
 ing bigotry and superstition. It was afterwards 
 much injured in Charles II. 's time, when the 
 present walks were laid out. The roots were dis- 
 turbed, and from that period it rapidly declined, and 
 became reduced by degrees to b'ttle more than a 
 mere trunk. The faithful records of history have 
 handed down its ancient dimensions. Through a 
 space of sixteen yards on every side from its trunk, 
 it once flung its boughs ; and then its magnificent 
 pavilion could have sheltered with ease three thou- 
 sand men ; though, in its decayed state, it could 
 for many years do little more than shelter some 
 luckless individual, whom the drenching shower 
 had overtaken in his evening walk. In the sum- 
 mer of the year 1788, this magnificent ruin fell to 
 the ground, alarming the College with its rushing 
 sound. It then appeared how precariously it had 
 stood for many years. Its grand tap-root was de- 
 cayed, and it had hold of the earth only by two .or 
 three roots, of which none was more than a couple 
 of inches in diameter. From a part of its ruin a 
 chair has been made for the President of the Col- 
 lege, which will long continue its memory. 
 
 Near Worksop grew an Oak, which, in respect
 
 170 OAK. 
 
 both to its own dignity and the dignity of its situa- 
 tion, deserves honourable mention. In point of 
 grandeur, few trees equalled it. It overspread a 
 space of ninety feet from the extremities of its 
 opposite boughs. These dimensions will produce 
 an area capable, on mathematical calculation, of 
 covering a squadron of two hundred and thirty-five 
 horse. The dignity of its station was equal to the 
 dignity of the tree itself. It stood on a point where 
 Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire, and Derbyshire unite, 
 and spread its shade over a portion of each. From 
 the honourable station of thus fixing the boundaries 
 of three large counties, it was equally respected 
 through the domains of them all, and was known 
 far and wide by the honourable distinction of the 
 Shire-Oak, by which appellation it was marked 
 among cities, towns, and rivers, in all the larger 
 maps of England. 
 
 Gilpin gives us a singular account of an Oak 
 tree that formerly stood in the New Forest, Hamp- 
 shire, against which, according to tradition, the 
 arrow of Sir Walter Tyrrell glanced which killed 
 William Rufus. According to Leland, and Cam- 
 den from him, this tree stood at a place called 
 Througham, where a chapel was erected to the 
 king's memory. But there is now not any place of 
 that name in the New Forest, nor the remains or 
 remembrance of any chapel. It is, however, con- 
 jectured that Througham might be what is at pre- 
 sent called Fritham, where the tradition of the 
 country seems to have fixed the spot with more 
 credibility than the tree. It is probable that the
 
 OAK. 171 
 
 chapel was only some little temporary oratory, 
 which, having never been endowed, might very 
 soon fall into decay : but the tree, we may suppose, 
 would be noticed at the time by everybody who 
 lived near it, and by strangers who came to see it; 
 and it is as likely that it never could be forgotten 
 afterwards. Those who regard a tree as an in- 
 sufficient record of an event so many centuries 
 back, may be reminded that seven hundred years 
 (and it is little more than that since the death of 
 Rufus) is no extraordinary period in the existence 
 of an Oak. About one hundred years ago, how- 
 ever, this tree had become so decayed and mutilated, 
 that it is probable the spot would have been com- 
 pletely forgotten if some other memorial had not 
 been raised. Before the stump, therefore, was 
 eradicated, Lord Delaware, who occupied one of the 
 neighbouring lodges, caused a triangular stone to 
 be erected, on the three sides of which the follow- 
 ing inscriptions are engraved : 
 
 I. 
 
 Here stood the Oak-tree, on which an arrow, shot by Sir 
 Walter Tyrrel at a stag, glanced, and struck King "William II. , 
 surnamed Rufus, in the breast, of which stroke he instantly 
 died, on the 2d of August, 1100. 
 
 II. 
 
 King William II., being thus slain, was laid on a cart belong- 
 ing to one Purkess, and drawn from hence to Winchester, and 
 buried in the Cathedral Church of that city. 
 
 III. 
 
 That the spot where an event so memorable happened, might 
 not hereafter be unknown, this stone was set up by John Lord 
 Delaware, who has seen the tree growing in this place.
 
 172 OAK. 
 
 Lord Delaware here asserts plainly that he had 
 seen the Oak-tree ; and as he resided much near 
 the place, there is reason to believe that he had 
 other grounds for the assertion besides the mere 
 tradition of the country. That matter, however, 
 rests on his authority. 
 
 Gilpin likewise gives us the following account of 
 the Cadenham Oak, in the New Forest, which was 
 remarkable for putting forth its buds in the depth 
 of winter. Cadenham is a village about three miles 
 from Lyndhurst, on the road to Salisbury : 
 
 " Having often heard of this Oak, I took a ride 
 to see it on December 29, 1781. It was pointed 
 out to me among several other Oaks, surrounded 
 by a little forest stream, winding round a knoll on 
 which they stood. It is a tall straight plant, of no 
 great age, and apparently vigorous, except that its 
 top has been injured, from which several branches 
 issue in the form of pollard shoots. It was entirely 
 bare of leaves, as far as I could discern, when I saw 
 it, and undistinguishable from the other Oaks in its 
 neighbourhood, except that its bark seemed rather 
 smoother, occasioned, I apprehended, only by fre- 
 quent climbing. 
 
 " Having had the account of its early budding 
 confirmed on the spot, I engaged one Michael 
 Lawrence, who kept the White Hart, a small ale- 
 house in the neighbourhood, to send me some of 
 the leaves to Vicar's Hill, as soon as they should 
 appear. The man, who had not the least doubt 
 about the matter, kept his word, and sent me seve- 
 ral twigs on the morning of January 5, 1782, a few
 
 OAK. 173 
 
 hours after they had been gathered. The leaves 
 were fairly expanded, and about an inch in length. 
 From some of the buds two leaves had unsheathed 
 themselves, but in general only one. 
 
 " Through what power in nature this strange 
 premature vegetation is occasioned, I believe no 
 naturalist can explain. I sent some of the leaves 
 to one of the ablest botanists we have, Mr. Light- 
 foot, author of the Flora, Scotica, and was in hopes 
 of hearing something satisfactory on the subject. 
 But he is one of those philosophers who are not 
 ashamed of ignorance where attempts at knowledge 
 are mere conjecture. He assured me he neither 
 could account for it in any way, nor did he know 
 of any other instance of premature vegetation, 
 except the Glastonbury thorn. The philosophers 
 of the forest, in the meantime, account for the 
 thing at once, through the influence of old Christ- 
 mas day, universally believing that the Oak buds 
 on that day, and that only. The same opinion 
 is held with regard to the Glastonbury thorn, 
 by the common people of the west of England. 
 But, without doubt, the vegetation there is gra- 
 dual, and forwarded or retarded by the mild- 
 ness or severity of the weather. One of its pro- 
 geny, which grew in the gardens of the Duchess 
 Dowager of Portland, at Bulstrode, had its flower- 
 buds perfectly formed so early as December 21, 
 1781, which is fifteen days earlier than it ought to 
 flower, according to the vulgar prejudice. 
 
 " This early spring, however, of the Cadenham 
 Oak, is of very short duration. The buds, after
 
 174 OAK. 
 
 unfolding themselves, make no farther progress, but 
 immediately shrink from the season and die. The 
 tree continues torpid, like other deciduous trees, 
 during the remainder of the winter, and vegetates 
 again in the spring, at the usual season. I have 
 seen it in full leaf in the middle of summer, when 
 it appeared, both in its form and foliage, exactly 
 like other Oaks. 
 
 "I have been informed that another tree, with 
 the same property of early vegetation, has lately 
 been found near the spot where Rufus's monument 
 stands. If this be the case, it seems in some de- 
 gree to authenticate the account which Camden 
 gives us of the scene of that prince's death ; for he 
 speaks of the premature vegetation of that very tree 
 on which the arrow of Tyrrel glanced, and the tree 
 I now speak of, if it really exist, though I have no 
 sufficient authority for it, might have been a de- 
 scendant of the old Oak, and hence inherited its 
 virtues. 
 
 "It is very probable, however, there may be 
 other Oaks in the forest which may likewise have 
 the property of early vegetation. I have heard 
 it often suspected, that people gather buds from 
 other trees and carry them, on old Christmas day, 
 to the Oak at Cadenham, from whence they pre- 
 tend to pluck them ; for that tree is in such 
 repute, and resorted to annually by so many visi- 
 tants, that I think it could not easily supply all its 
 votaries without some foreign contributions. Some 
 have accounted for this phenomenon by supposing 
 that leaves have been preserved over the year by
 
 OAK. 175 
 
 being steeped in vinegar. But I am well satisfied 
 this is not the case. Mr. Lightfoot, to whom I 
 sent the leaves, had no such suspicion." 
 
 In the Salisbury Journal, January 10, 1781, the 
 following paragraph appeared : 
 
 " In consequence of a report that has prevailed 
 in this country for upwards of two centuries, and 
 which by many has been almost considered as a 
 matter of faith, that the Oak at Cadenham, in the 
 New Forest, shoots forth leaves on every old Christ- 
 mas day, and that no leaf is ever to be seen on it, 
 either before or after that day, during the winter ; 
 a lady, who is now on a visit in this city, and who 
 is attentively curious in every thing relative to art 
 or nature, made a journey to Cadenham on Mon- 
 day, the 3d instant, purposely to inquire, on the 
 spot, about the production of this famous tree. On 
 her arrival near it, the usual guide was ready to 
 attend her ; but on his being desired to climb the 
 Oak, and to search whether there were any leaves 
 then on it, he said it would be to no purpose, but 
 that if she would come on the Wednesday follow- 
 ing (Christmas day), she might certainly see thou- 
 sands. However, he was prevailed on to ascend, 
 and on the first branch which he gathered appeared 
 several fair new leaves, fresh sprouted from the 
 buds, and nearly an inch and a half in length. It 
 may be imagined that the guide was more amazed 
 at this premature production than the lady ; for so 
 strong was his belief in the truth of the whole 
 tradition, that he would have pledged his life that
 
 176 OAK. 
 
 not a leaf was to have been discovered on any part 
 of the tree before the usual hour. 
 
 " But though the superstitious part of this an- 
 cient legend is hence confuted, yet it must be al- 
 lowed there is something very uncommon and 
 curious in an Oak constantly shooting forth leaves 
 at this unseasonable time of the year, and that the 
 cause of it well deserves the philosophical attention 
 of the botanist. In some years there is no doubt 
 that this Oak may show its first leaves on the 
 Christmas morning, as probably as on a few days 
 before ; and this perhaps was the case in the last 
 year, when a gentleman of this neighbourhood, a 
 nice and critical observer, strictly examined the 
 branches, not only on the Christmas morn, but 
 also on the day prior to it. On the first day not 
 a leaf was to be found, but on the following every 
 branch had its complement, though they were then 
 but just shooting from the buds, none of them 
 being more than a quarter of an inch long. The 
 latter part of the story may easily be credited 
 that no leaves are to be seen on it after Christmas 
 day as large parties yearly assemble about the 
 Oak on that morning, and regularly strip every 
 appearance of a leaf from it." 
 
 At Elderslie, near Paisley, upon a little knoll, 
 there stood, near the end of the last century, the 
 ruins of an Oak, which was supposed to be the 
 largest tree that ever grew in Scotland. The 
 trunk was then wholly decayed and hollow, but it 
 was evident, from what remained, that its diameter 
 could not have been less than eleven or twelve feet.
 
 OAK. 177 
 
 As to its age, we can only conjecture, from some 
 circumstances, that it is most likely a tree of great 
 antiquity. The little knoll whereon it stands is 
 surrounded by a swamp, over which a causeway 
 leads to the tree, or rather to a circle which seems 
 to have run round it. The vestiges of this circle, 
 as well as the causeway, bear a plain resemblance 
 to those works which are commonly attributed to 
 the Druids, so that this tree was probably a scene 
 of worship consecrated by these heathen priests. 
 But the credit of it does not depend on the dubious 
 vestiges of Druid antiquity. In a latter scene 
 of greater importance (if tradition ever be the 
 vehicle of truth) it bore a large share. When the 
 illustrious and renowned hero, William Wallace, 
 roused the spirit of the Scotch nation to oppose the 
 tyranny of Edward, he frequently chose the soli- 
 tude of Torwood as a place of rendezvous for his 
 army. There he concealed his numbers and his 
 designs, sallying out suddenly on the enemy's gar- 
 risons, and retreating as suddenly when he feared 
 to be overpowered. While his army lay in those 
 woods, the Oak which we are now commemorating 
 was commonly his head-quarters. There the hero 
 generally slept, its hollow trunk being sufficiently 
 capacious, not only to afford shelter to himself, but 
 also to many of his followers. This tree has ever 
 since been known by the name of Wallace tree. 
 
 In the enclosure known as the Little Park, in 
 Windsor Forest, there is still standing the sup- 
 posed Oak immortalized by Shakspeare as the 
 scene of Hern the hunter's exploits :
 
 178 OAK. 
 
 An old tale goes, that Hern the hunter, 
 Sometime a keeper here in "Windsor Forest, 
 Doth all the winter time, at still of midnight, 
 Walk round about this Oak, with ragged horns ; 
 And then he blasts the trees, destroys the cattle, 
 Makes the milch cow yield blood, and shakes a chain 
 In hideous, dreadful manner. 
 
 Merry Wives, iv. 3. 
 
 This tree measures about twenty-four feet in cir- 
 cumference, and is yet vigorous, which somewhat 
 injures its historical credit. For though it is evi- 
 dently a tree advanced in years, and might well 
 have existed in the time of Elizabeth, it seems too 
 strong and vigorous to have been a proper tree, in 
 that age, for Hern the hunter to have danced round. 
 Fairies, elves, and that generation of people, are 
 universally supposed to select the most ancient and 
 venerable trees to gambol under ; and the poet 
 who should describe them dancing under a sapling, 
 would show very little acquaintance with his sub- 
 ject. That this tree could not be called a vener- 
 able tree two centuries ago is evident, because it 
 can scarcely assume that character even now. And 
 yet an Oak, in a soil it likes, will continue so many 
 years in a vigorous state, that we must not lay 
 more stress on this argument than it will fairly 
 bear. It may be added, however, in its favour, 
 that a pit, or ditch, is still shown near the tree, as 
 Shakspeare describes it, which may have been 
 preserved with the same veneration as the tree 
 itself. 
 
 There is an Oak in the grounds of Sir Gerrard 
 Van Neck, at Heveningham, in Suffolk, which car-
 
 OAK. 179 
 
 ries us likewise into the times of Elizabeth. But 
 this tree brings its evidence with it evidence 
 which, if necessary, might carry it into the Saxon 
 times. It is now falling fast into the decline of 
 years, and every year robs it more of its honours. 
 But its trunk, which is thirty-five feet in circum- 
 ference, still retains its grandeur, though the or- 
 naments of its boughs and foliage are much 
 reduced. But the grandeur of the trunk consists 
 only in appearance ; it is a mere shell. In Queen 
 Elizabeth's time it was hollow, and from this cir- 
 cumstance the tree derives the honour of being 
 handed down to posterity. That princess, who 
 from her earliest years loved masculine amuse- 
 ments, used often, it is said, in her youth, to take 
 her stand in this tree and shoot the deer as they 
 passed. From that time it has been known by the 
 name of Queen Elizabeth's Oak. 
 
 The Swilcar Oak, in the Forest of Needwood, in 
 Staffordshire, was measured about 1771, and found 
 to be nineteen feet in girth at six feet from the 
 ground ; and when measured in 1825 it was twenty- 
 one feet four inches and a half in circumference at 
 the same height from the ground. This proves 
 that the tree is slowly increasing, having gained 
 two feet four inches in fifty-four years, and yet it 
 is known, by historical documents, to be six hun- 
 dred years old. Though in decay it is still a fine, 
 shapely, characteristic tree. It stands in an open 
 lawn, surrounded by extensive woods. In a poem 
 entitled Needwood Forest the author thus addresses 
 it:
 
 180 OAK. 
 
 Hail ! stately Oak, whose wrinkled trunk hath stood, 
 Age after age, the sovereign of the wood : 
 You, who have seen a thousand springs unfold 
 Their ravelled buds, and dip their flowers in gold 
 Ten thousand times yon moon relight her horn, 
 And that bright eye of evening gild the morn, 
 ********* 
 
 Yes, stately Oak, thy leaf-wrapped head sublime 
 Ere long must perish in the wrecks of time ; 
 Should, o'er thy brow, the thunders harmless break, 
 And thy firm roots in vain the whirlwinds shake, 
 Yet must thou fall. Thy withering glories sunk, 
 Arm after arm shall leave thy mouldering trunk. 
 
 The Cowthorpe, or Coltsthorpe Oak, near We- 
 therby, in Yorkshire, had its principal branch rent 
 off by a storm in the year 1718, when it was accu- 
 rately measured, and found to contain more than 
 five tons of timber. Previous to this mutilation, 
 its branches are said to have extended over half an 
 acre of ground. At three feet from the ground, 
 this most gigantic of all trees is sixteen yards, or 
 forty-eight feet, and close to the root it is twenty - 
 six yards, or seventy-eight feet, in girth ! Its 
 principal limb projects forty-eight feet from the 
 trunk. It is still in wonderful preservation, though 
 its foliage is thin. It has been called the King of 
 the British Sylva, and, indeed, it deserves the title, 
 and proud we may be of such a king. 
 
 There were two trees in Yardley Forest, called 
 Gog and Magog, which demand our notice on ac- 
 count of one of them having been celebrated by the 
 muse of Cowper. The scenery in which they stood 
 is hallowed by his shade. He was fond of indul- 
 ging his melancholy minstrel musings among the
 
 OAK. 181 
 
 woodland scenery there. Gog, the larger of these 
 two Oaks, measured thirty-eight feet round at the 
 roots, and was twenty-eight feet in circumference 
 at three feet from the ground. It was fifty-eight 
 feet high, and contained one thousand six hundred 
 and sixty-eight feet seven inches of solid timber. 
 Magog was only forty-nine feet in height ; but its 
 circumference was fifty-four feet four inches at the 
 ground, and thirty-one feet three at three feet high. 
 These two trees were near each other, and although 
 a good deal bared at the top by age, they were 
 very picturesque. We shall quote here the whole 
 of Cowper's Address to the " Yardley Oak" ; from 
 which it would appear that only one of them then 
 remained : 
 
 Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all 
 That once lived here, thy brethren, at my birth 
 (Since which I number threescore winters pass'd) 
 A shatter'd veteran, hollow-trunk'd perhaps, 
 As now, and with excoriate forks deform, 
 Relics of ages ! Could a mind, imbued 
 "With truth from Heaven, created thing adore, 
 I might with reverence kneel, and worship thee. 
 
 It seems idolatry with some excuse, 
 When our forefather Druids in their Oaks 
 Imagined sanctity. The conscience, yet 
 Unpurified by an authentic act 
 Of amnesty, the meed of blood Divine, 
 Loved not the light ; but, gloomy, into gloom 
 Of thickest shades, like Adam after taste 
 Of fruit proscribed, as to a refuge, fled. 
 
 Thou wast a bauble once; a cup and ball, 
 Which babes might play with ; and the thievish jay, 
 Seeking her food, with ease might have purloin'd 
 The auburn nut that held thee, swallowing down 
 Thy yet close-folded latitude of boughs,
 
 182 
 
 OAK. 
 
 And all thine embryo vastness at a gulp. 
 But Fate thy growth decreed ; autumnal rains 
 Beneath thy parent tree mellow'd the soil 
 Design'd thy cradle ; and a skipping deer, 
 With pointed hoof dibbling the glebe, prepared 
 The soft receptacle, in which, secure, 
 Thy rudiments should sleep the winter through. 
 
 So Fancy dreams. Disprove it, if ye can, 
 Ye reasoners broad awake, whose busy search 
 Of argument, employ'd too oft amiss, 
 Sifts half the pleasure of sweet life away ! 
 
 Thou fell'st mature ; and in the loamy clod, 
 Swelling with vegetative force instinct, 
 Didst burst thine egg, as theirs the fabled Twins, 
 Now stars ; two lobes, protruding, pair'd exact ; 
 A leaf succeeded, and another leaf ; 
 And, all the elements thy puny growth 
 Fostering propitious, thou becamest a twig. 
 
 Who lived, when thou wast such ? O, couldst thou speak, 
 As in Dodona once thy kindred trees 
 Oracular, I would not curious ask 
 The future, best unknown, but at thy mouth 
 Inquisitive, the less ambiguous past. 
 
 By thee I might correct, erroneous oft, 
 The clock of history, facts and events 
 Timing more punctual, unrecorded facts 
 Recovering, and misstated setting right 
 Desperate attempt, till trees shall speak again ! 
 
 Time made thee what thou wast, king of the woods ; 
 And Time hath made thee what thou art a cave 
 For owls to roost in. Once thy spreading boughs 
 O'erhung the champaign ; and the numerous flocks 
 That grazed it, stood beneath that ample cope 
 Uncrowded, yet safe-sheltered from the storm. 
 No flock frequents thee now. Thou hast outlived 
 Thy popularity, and art become 
 (Unless verse rescue thee awhile) a thing 
 Forgotten, as the foliage of thy youth. 
 
 While thus through all the stages thou hast push'd 
 Of treeship first a seedling hid in grass ; 
 Then twig ; then sapling ; and, as century roll'd 
 Slow after century, a giant bulk
 
 OAK. 183 
 
 Of girth enormous, with moss-cushioned root 
 . Upheaved above the soil, and sides emboss'd 
 "With prominent wens globose till at the last 
 The rottenness, which time is charged to inflict 
 On other mighty ones, found also thee. 
 
 "What exhibitions various hath the world 
 "Witness'd of mutability in all 
 That we account most durable below ! 
 Change is the diet on which all subsist, 
 Created changeable, and change at last 
 Destroys them. Skies uncertain now the heat 
 Transmitting cloudless, and the solar beam 
 Now quenching in a boundless sea of clouds 
 Calm and alternate storm, moisture and drought, 
 Invigorate by turns the springs of life 
 In all that live plant, animal, and man 
 And in conclusion mar them. Nature's threads, 
 Fine passing thought, ev'n in her coarsest works, 
 Delight in agitation, yet sustain 
 The force that agitates, not unimpair'd ; 
 But, worn by frequent impulse, to the cause 
 Of then* best tone their dissolution owe. 
 
 Thought cannot spend itself, comparing still 
 The great and little of thy lot, thy growth 
 From almost nullity into a state 
 Of matchless grandeur, and declension thence, 
 Slow, into such magnificent decay. 
 Tune was, when, settling on thy leaf, a fly 
 Could shake thee to the root and time has been 
 "When tempests could not. At thy firmest age 
 Thou hadst within thy bole solid contents, 
 That might have ribb'd the sides and plank'd the deck 
 Of some flagg'd admiral ; and tortuous arms, 
 The shipwright's darling treasure, didst present 
 To the four-quarter'd winds, robust and bold, 
 "Warp'd into tough knee-timber,* many a load ! 
 But the axe spared thee. In those thriftier days 
 Oaks fell not, hewn by thousands, to supply 
 
 * Knee- timber is found in the crooked' arms of Oak, which, by reason 
 of their distortion, are easily adjusted to the angle formed where the deck 
 and tbe ship's sides meet.
 
 184 OAK. 
 
 The bottomless demands of contest, waged 
 For senatorial honours. Thus to Time 
 The task was left to whittle thee away 
 With his sly scythe, whose ever-nibbling edge, 
 Noiseless, an atom, and an atom more, 
 Disjoining from the rest, has, unobserved, 
 Achieved a labour, which had far and wide, 
 By man perform'd, made all the forest ring. 
 
 EmbowelTd now, and of thy ancient self 
 Possessing naught but the scoop'd rind, that seems 
 A huge throat, calling to the clouds for drink, 
 Which it would give in rivulets to thy root 
 Thou temptest none, but rather much forbidst 
 The feller's toil, which thou couldst ill requite. 
 Yet is thy root sincere, sound as the rock, 
 A quarry of stout spurs and knotted fangs, 
 Which, crook'd into a thousand whimsies, clasp 
 The stubborn soil, and hold thee still erect. 
 
 So stands a kingdom, whose foundation yet 
 Fails not, in virtue and in wisdom laid ; 
 Though all the superstructure, by the tooth 
 Pulverised of venality, a shell 
 Stands now, and semblance only of itself ! 
 
 Thine arms have left thee. Winds have rent them off 
 Long since, and rovers of the forest wild 
 With bow and shaft have burn'd them. Some have left 
 A splinter'd stump, bleach'd to a snowy white ; 
 And some, memorial none where once they grew. 
 Yet life still lingers in thee, and puts forth 
 Proof not contemptible of what she can, 
 Even where death predominates. The spring 
 Finds thee not less alive to her sweet force, 
 Than yonder upstarts of the neighbouring wood, 
 So much thy juniors, who their birth received 
 Half a millennium since the date of thine. 
 
 But since, although well qualified by age 
 To teach, no spirit dwells in thee, nor voice 
 M-ay be expected from thee, seated here 
 On thy distorted root, with hearers none, 
 Or prompter, save the scene I will perform, 
 Myself the oracle, and will discourse 
 In my own ear such matter as I may.
 
 OAK. 185 
 
 One man alone, the father of us all, 
 Drew not his life from woman ; never gazed, 
 With mute unconsciousness of what he saw, 
 On all around him ; learn'd not by degrees, 
 Nor owed articulation to his ear ; 
 But, moulded by his Maker into man 
 At once, upstood intelligent, survey'd 
 All creatures, with precision understood 
 Their purport, uses, properties, assign'd 
 To each his name significant, and, fill'd 
 "With love and wisdom, render'd back to Heaven, 
 In praise harmonious, the first air he drew. 
 He was excused the penalties of dull 
 Minority. No tutor charged his hand 
 "With the thought-tracing quill, or task'd his mind 
 With problems. History, not wanted yet, 
 Lean'd on her elbow, watching Time, whose course 
 Eventful should supply her with a theme. 
 
 Montgomery inscribed the following lines under 
 a drawing of the Yardley Oak, celebrated in the 
 preceding quotation from Cowper : 
 
 The sole survivor of a race 
 Of giant Oaks, where once the wood 
 Rang with the battle or the chase, 
 In stern and lonely grandeur stood. 
 
 From age to age it slowly spread 
 Its gradual boughs to sun and wind ; 
 Prom age to age its noble head 
 As slowly wither'd and declined. 
 
 A thousand years are like a day, 
 When fled ; no longer known than seen ; 
 This tree was doom'd to pass away, 
 And be as if it ne'er had been ; 
 
 But mournful Cowper, wandering nigh, 
 For rest beneath its shadow came, 
 When, lo ! the voice of days gone by 
 Ascended from its hollow frame.
 
 186 OAK. 
 
 O that the Poet had reveal'd 
 The words of those prophetic strains, 
 Ere death the eternal mystery seal'd 
 Yet in his song the Oak remains. 
 
 And fresh in undecaying prime, 
 There may it live, beyond the power 
 Of storm and earthquake, Man and Time, 
 Till Nature's conflagration-hour. 
 
 There are various opinions as to the best mode 
 of rearing Oak-trees ; we shall here state that which 
 Evelyn considered the best. In raising Oak-trees 
 from acorns sown in the seminary, a proper situa- 
 tion should be prepared by the time the seeds are 
 ripe. The soil should be loamy, fresh, and in good 
 heart. This should be well prepared by digging, 
 breaking the clods, clearing it of weeds, stones, &c. 
 The acorns should be collected from the best trees ; 
 and if allowed to remain until they fall off, they 
 will germinate the better. Sow the acorns in beds 
 about three inches asunder, press them down gently 
 with the spade, and rake the earth over the acorns 
 until it is raised about two inches above them. 
 The plants will not appear in less than two months ; 
 and here they may be allowed to remain for two 
 years at least, without any further care than keep- 
 ing them free from weeds, and occasionally refresh- 
 ing them with water in dry weather. 
 
 When the plants are two years old they will be 
 of a proper size for planting out, and the best way 
 to do this is by trenching or ploughing as deeply 
 as the soil will allow. The sets should be planted 
 about the end of October. This operation should 
 be commenced by striking the plants carefully out
 
 OAK. 187 
 
 of the seed-bed, shortening the tap-root, and top- 
 ping off part of the side shoots, that there may be 
 an equal degree of strength in the stem and the 
 root. After planting they should be well protected 
 from cattle, and, if possible, from hares and rab- 
 bits. They must also be kept clear from weeds. 
 
 Mr. Evelyn was of opinion, that Oaks thus raised 
 will yield the best timber. And Dr. Hunter re- 
 marks, that the extensive plantations which were 
 made towards the end of the last century, were 
 made more with a view to shade and ornament 
 than to the propagation of good timber ; and with 
 this object the owners planted their trees generally 
 too old, so that many of the woods, when they come 
 to be felled, will greatly disappoint the expectations 
 of the purchaser. 
 
 Oaks are about eighteen years old before they 
 yield any fruit, a peculiarity which seems to indi- 
 cate the great longevity of the tree ; for " soon ripe 
 and soon rotten," is an adage that holds generally 
 throughout the organic world. The Oak requires 
 sixty or seventy years to attain a considerable 
 size; but it will go on increasing and knowing no 
 decay for centuries, and live for more than 1000 
 years. 
 
 In reference to the durability of Oak timber when 
 used in ship-building, the following statement has 
 been elicited by a Select Committee appointed to 
 inquire into the cause of the increased number of 
 shipwrecks. The Sub-Committee addressed a 
 letter to the Lords of the Admiralty, who consulted 
 the officers of the principal dock-yards, and returned
 
 188 
 
 OAK. 
 
 the following abstract account of the officers of the 
 yards' opinion on the durability of Oak timber : 
 
 OAK 
 TIMBER. 
 
 "When used for Floors 
 and Lower Futtocks 
 only. 
 
 When used 
 for plank- 
 ing above 
 light 
 watermark 
 
 When used 
 for the 
 Upper 
 Timbers. 
 
 In Mid- 
 ships. 
 
 Afore and 
 Abaft. 
 
 English. 
 
 FromlOOto 
 24 years. 
 Average of 
 yards 42 
 
 From 20 to 
 
 12 years. 
 
 - 15 - 
 
 From 20 to 
 12 years. 
 
 - 16 - 
 
 From 30 to 
 15 years. 
 
 - 20 - 
 
 Of the growth 
 of the North 
 of Europe. 
 
 From 30 to 
 9 years. 
 Average of 
 yards 18 
 
 From 15 to 
 8 years. 
 
 - 10 - 
 
 From 12 to 
 4 years. 
 
 - 9 - 
 
 From 15 to 
 4 years. 
 
 - 10 - 
 
 Of the growth of 
 the British North 
 American Colo- 
 nies, generally 
 known as Que- 
 bec white Oak. 
 
 From 30 to 
 5 years. 
 Average of 
 yards 17 
 
 From 15 to 
 3 years. 
 
 - 9 - 
 
 From 12 to 
 2 years. 
 
 - 9 - 
 
 From 16 to 
 2 years. 
 
 - 11 -
 
 THE ORIENTAL PLANE. 
 
 [Platanus* orientalis. Nat. Ord. Plat anacece ; Linn. Monce. 
 Polya.} 
 
 THE Oriental Plane is a native of Greece, and of 
 other parts of the Levant ; it is found in Asia 
 Minor, Persia, and eastward to Cashmere; and 
 likewise in Barbary, in the south of Italy, and in 
 Sicily, although probably not indigenous in these 
 
 * Platanus. Flowers unisexual, the barren and fertile upon 
 one plant, disposed many together, and densely, in globular cat- 
 kins. Pistils numerous, approximately pairs. Ovary 1-celled, 
 including 1-2 pendulous ovules. Stigmas 2, long, filiform, 
 glandular in the upper part. Fruit autricle, densely covered with 
 articulated hairs, including one pendulous, oblong, exalbuminous 
 seed.
 
 190 ORIENTAL PLANE. 
 
 countries. It appears to have been introduced into 
 England about the middle of the sixteenth century ; 
 but seems not to have been propagated to the 
 extent it deserves, even as an ornamental tree ; 
 and the specimens now in existence are neither 
 very numerous, nor are they distinguished for their 
 dimensions. 
 
 In the East, the Oriental Plane grows to the 
 height of seventy feet and upwards, with widely 
 spreading branches and a massive trunk ; forming 
 altogether a majestic tree. The trunk is covered 
 with a smooth bark, which scales off every year in 
 large irregular patches, often producing a pleasing 
 variety of tint. The bark of the younger branches 
 is of a dark brown, inclined to a purple colour. 
 The leaves are alternate, about seven inches long 
 and eight broad, deeply cut into five segments, and 
 the two outer ones slightly cut into two more. 
 These segments are acutely indented on their bor- 
 ders, each having a strong midrib, with numerous 
 lateral veins. The upper side of the leaves is a 
 deep green, the under side pale. The petioles are 
 rather long, with an enlargement at the base 
 which covers the nascent buds. The catkins which 
 contain the seed are of a globular form, and from 
 two to five in number, on axillary peduncles ; they 
 vary greatly in size, and are found from four inches 
 to scarcely one in circumference. The flowers are 
 very minute. The balls, which are about the size 
 of walnuts, and fastened together often in pairs 
 like chain-shot, appear before the leaves in spring, 
 and the seed ripens late in autumn ; these are
 
 ORIENTAL PLANE. 
 
 191 
 
 small, not unlike the seed of the lettuce, and are 
 surrounded or enveloped in a bristly down. 
 
 Of the Oriental Plane London remarks, "As an 
 ornamental tree, no one which attains so large a 
 size has a finer appearance, standing singly, or in 
 
 Leaves and Globes of Flowers of P. orientalis.
 
 192 ORIENTAL PLANE. 
 
 small groups, upon a lawn, where there is room to 
 allow its lower branches, which stretch themselves 
 horizontally to a considerable distance, gracefully 
 to bend toward the ground, and turn up at their 
 extremities. The peculiar characteristics of the 
 tree, indeed, is the combination which it presents 
 of majesty and gracefulness ; an expression which 
 is produced by the massive, and yet open and 
 varied character, of its head, the bending of its 
 branches, and their feathering to the ground. In 
 this respect it is greatly superior to the lime-tree, 
 which comes nearest to it in the general character 
 of the head ; but which forms a much more com- 
 pact and lumpish mass of foliage in summer, and, 
 in winter, is so crowded with branches and spray, 
 as to prevent, in a great measure, the sun from 
 penetrating through them. The head of the 
 Oriental Plane, during sunshine, often abounds in 
 what painters call flickering lights ; the conse- 
 quence of the branches of the head separating 
 themselves into what may be called horizontal 
 undulating strata or, as it is called in artistic 
 phraseology, tufting easily put in motion by the 
 wind, and through openings in which the rays of 
 the sun penetrate, and strike on the foliage below. 
 The tree is by no means so suitable, as most others, 
 for an extensive park, or for imitations of forest 
 scenery ; but, from its mild and gentle expression, 
 its usefulness for shade in summer, and for admit- 
 ting the sun in winter, it is peculiarly adapted for 
 pleasure grounds, and, where there is room, for 
 planting near houses and buildings. For the
 
 ORIENTAL PLANE. 193 
 
 latter purpose, it is particularly well adapted even 
 in winter, for the colour of the bark of the trunk, 
 which has a grayish white tint, is not unlike the 
 colour of some kinds of freestone. The colour of 
 the foliage, in dry soil, is also of a dull grayish 
 green ; which, receiving the light in numerous 
 horizontal tuftings, readily harmonizes with the 
 colour of stone walls. It appears, also, not to be 
 much injured by smoke, since there are trees of it 
 of considerable size in the very heart of London." 
 The Oriental Plane thrives best on a light free 
 soil, moist, but not wet at bottom ; and the situa- 
 tion should be sheltered, but not shaded or crowded 
 by other trees. It will scarcely grow in strong 
 clays and on elevated exposed places ; nor will it 
 thrive in places where the lime-tree does not pros- 
 per. It may be propagated by seeds, layers, or 
 cuttings. The general practice is to sow the seeds 
 in autumn, covering them over as lightly as those 
 of the birch and alder, or beating them in with 
 the back of the spade, and not covering them at 
 all, and protecting the beds with litter to exclude 
 the frost. The plants will come up the follow- 
 ing year, and will be fit, after two years' growth, 
 to run into nursery lines ; from whence they may 
 be planted into their permanent stations in two 
 or three years, according to the size considered 
 necessary. The growth of this tree is very rapid, 
 attaining in the climate of London, under favour- 
 able circumstances, the height of thirty feet in 
 ten years, and arriving at the height of sixty or 
 seventy feet in thirty years. The longevity of
 
 194 ORIENTAL PLANE. 
 
 this tree was supposed, by the ancients, to be con- 
 siderable ; and there are few old trees in this 
 country. One, still existing at Lee Court, in Kent, 
 was celebrated in 1683 for its age and magnitude. 
 Some of the largest trees in the neighbourhood of 
 London are at Mount Grove, Hampstead, where 
 they are between seventy and eighty feet in height ; 
 and in the grounds of Lambeth Palace, there is 
 one ninety feet high, with a trunk of four and a 
 half feet in diameter. 
 
 The Oriental Plane was held by the Greeks 
 sacred to Helen; and the virgins of Sparta are 
 represented by Theocritus as claiming homage for 
 it, saying, " Reverence me ! I am the tree of 
 Helen." It was so admired by Xerxes, that ^Elian 
 and other authors inform us, he halted his prodi- 
 gious army near one of them an entire day, during 
 its march for the invasion of Greece ; and, on 
 leaving, covered it with gold, gems, necklaces, 
 scarfs, and bracelets, and an infinity of riches. He 
 likewise caused its figure to be stamped on a medal 
 of gold, which he afterwards wore continually 
 about him. 
 
 Among many remarkable Plane-trees recorded 
 by Pliny, he mentions one in Lycia, which had a 
 cave or hollow in the trunk that measured eighty- 
 one feet in circumference. In this hollow were 
 stone seats, covered with moss ; and there, during 
 the time of his consulship, Licinius Mutianus, with 
 eighteen of his friends, was accustomed to dine 
 and sup ! Its branches spread to such an amazing 
 extent, that this single tree appeared like a grove ;
 
 ORIENTAL PLANE. 195 
 
 and this consul, says Pliny, chose rather to sleep 
 in the hollow cavity of this tree, than to repose in 
 his marble chamber, where his bed was richly 
 wrought with curious needlework, and o'ercanopied 
 with beaten gold. Pausanias, also, who lived 
 about the middle of the second century, records a 
 Plane-tree of remarkable size and beauty in 
 Arcadia, which was then supposed to have been 
 planted by the hands of Menelaus, the husband of 
 Helen, which would make the age of the tree 
 about thirteen hundred years. 
 
 At a later period magnificent examples of this 
 umbrageous tree continued to flourish in Greece, 
 and many of these are still existing. One of the 
 most celebrated is at Buyukdere (or the Great 
 Valley), about thirty miles from Constantinople, 
 which M. de Candolle conjectured to be more than 
 two thousand years old ; when measured, in 1831, 
 by Dr. Walsh, it was found to be one hundred and 
 fifty-one feet in circumference at the base, and the 
 diameter of its head covered a space of one hun- 
 dred and thirty feet. Some doubt, however, seems 
 to exist as to whether it should be considered as a 
 single tree, or as a number of individuals which 
 have sprung from a decayed stock, and become 
 united at the base. The hollow contained within 
 the stem of this enormous tree, we are told, affords 
 a magnificent tent to the Seraskier and his officers, 
 when the Turks encamp in this valley. 
 
 Among the Turks, the Planes are preserved 
 with a devoted and religious tenderness.
 
 THE OCCIDENTAL OR AMERICAN PLANE. 
 
 [Platanus occidentalis. Nat. Ord. Platanacece; Linn. Mona. 
 Polya.} 
 
 THE American or Western Plane is found over an 
 immense area in North America, comprising the 
 Atlantic and western states, and extending beyond 
 the Mississippi. In the Atlantic states, this tree 
 is commonly known by the name of button-wood ; 
 and sometimes, in Virginia, by that of water-beech, 
 from its preferring moist localities, "where the
 
 OCCIDENTAL PLANE. 197 
 
 soil is loose, deep, and fertile." On the banks of 
 the Ohio, and in the states of Kentucky and Ten- 
 nessee, it is commonly called sycamore, and some- 
 times plane-tree. The button-tree is, however, the 
 name by which this tree is most generally known 
 in America. 
 
 The Western Plane was first introduced into 
 England about 1630, and was afterwards so gene- 
 rally planted, in consequence of its easy propagation 
 by cuttings and rapid growth, that it soon became 
 more common than P. orientalis. This tree is now, 
 however, rare in this country, from the greater 
 number having been killed by a severe frost in 
 May 1809, and by the severe winter of 1813-4. 
 
 The American Plane, in magnitude and general 
 appearance, closely resembles the oriental plane. 
 The one species, however, can always be dis- 
 tinguished from the other by the following charac- 
 ters : In the Oriental Plane, the leaves are smaller 
 and much more deeply lobed than in the Western 
 tree, and the petioles of the leaves, which in the 
 Oriental species are green, in the American tree 
 are purplish-red ; the fruit, or ball-shaped catkins, 
 also, of the Western Plane, are considerably 
 larger, and not so rough externally as those of 
 the other. The bark is said to scale off in larger 
 pieces, and the wood to be more curiously veined. 
 In all other respects, the descriptive particulars 
 of both trees are the same. According to 
 Michang, the Western Plane is " the loftiest and 
 largest tree of the United States." In 1802, he 
 saw one growing on the banks of the Ohio, whose
 
 198 OCCIDENTAL PLANE. 
 
 girth at four feet from the ground, was 47 feet, or 
 nearly 16 feet in diameter. This tree, which 
 showed no symptoms of decay, but on the contrary 
 exhibited a rich foliage and vigorous vegetation, 
 began to ramify at about 20 feet from the ground, 
 a stem of no mean length, but short in compari- 
 son to many large trees of this species that he 
 met with, whose boles towered to a height of 60 
 or 70 feet without a single branch. Even in 
 England, specimens of the Western Plane, of no 
 great age, are to be met with .100 feet in height. 
 The rate of growth of P. occidentalis, when placed 
 near water, is so rapid, that in ten years it will at- 
 tain the height of forty feet ; and a tree in the 
 Palace Garden at Lambeth, near a pond, in twenty 
 years had attained the height of eighty feet, with 
 a trunk eight feet in circumference at three feet 
 from the ground, and the diameter of the head 
 forty-eight feet. This was in 1817. (See Neill's 
 Hort. Tour, p. 9.) 
 
 As a picturesque tree, Gilpin places the Occi- 
 dental Plane after the oak, the ash, the elm, the 
 beech, and the hornbeam, which he considers as 
 deciduous trees of the first rank ; saying of both 
 species of Platanus, that, though neither so beauti- 
 ful nor so characteristic as the first-named trees, 
 they are yet worth the notice of the eye of the 
 admirer of the picturesque. 
 
 " The Occidental Plane has a very picturesque 
 stem. It is smooth, and of a light ash colour, and 
 has the property of throwing off its bark in scales ; 
 thus naturally cleansing itself, at least its larger
 
 OCCIDENTAL PLANE. 
 
 199 
 
 boughs, from moss, and other parasitical encum- 
 brances. This would be no recommendation of it 
 in a picturesque light, if the removal of these encum- 
 brances did not substitute as great a beauty in 
 their room. These scales are very irregular, falling 
 off sometimes in one part, and sometimes in another ; 
 
 Leaves and Flowers of P. occidentalis.
 
 200 OCCIDENTAL PLANE. 
 
 and, as the under bark is, immediately after its 
 excoriation, of a lighter hue than the upper, it 
 offers to the pencil those smart touches which have 
 so much effect in painting. These flakes, however, 
 would be more beautiful if they fell off in a circular 
 form, instead of a perpendicular one : they would 
 correspond and unite better with the round form 
 of the bole. " No tree forms a more pleasing shade 
 than the Occidental Plane. It is full-leafed, and its 
 leaf is large, smooth, of a fine texture, and seldom 
 injured by insects. Its lower branches shooting 
 horizontally, soon take a direction to the ground, 
 and the spray seems more sedulous than that of any 
 tree we have, by twisting about in various forms, to 
 fill up every little vacuity with shade. At the same 
 time, it must be owned that the twisting of its 
 branches is a disadvantage to this tree, as it is to 
 the beech. When it is stripped of its leaves, and 
 reduced to a skeleton, it has not the natural appear- 
 ance which the spray of the oak, and that of many 
 other trees, discovers in winter ; nor, indeed, does 
 its foliage, from the largeness of the leaf and the 
 mode of its growth, make the most picturesque 
 appearance in summer. One of the finest Occi- 
 dental Planes I am acquainted with stands in my 
 own garden at Vicar's Hill; where its boughs, 
 feathering to the ground, form a canopy of above 
 fifty feet in diameter." 
 
 The Occidental Plane is propagated by cuttings, 
 which will hardly fail to succeed if they are taken 
 from strong young wood, and are planted early in 
 the autumn in a moist good mould.
 
 THE POPLAR TREE. 
 
 [Popitlus. * Nat. Ord. Amentiferae; Linn. Dioec. Octa.] 
 
 THE Poplars are deciduous trees, mostly growing 
 to a large size ; natives of Europe, North America, 
 some parts of Asia, and the north of Africa. They 
 are all of rapid growth, some of them extremely so; 
 
 * Generic characters. Flowers of both kinds in cylindrical 
 catkins. Barren flowers consisting of numerous stamens, arising 
 out of a small, oblique, cup-like perianth. Fertile flowers con- 
 sisting of 4 or 8 stigmas, arising out of a cup-like perianth ; 
 fruit a follicle, 2-valved, almost 2-celled by the rolling in of the 
 margins of the valves.
 
 202 POPLAR. 
 
 and they are all remarkable for a tremulous motion 
 in their leaves, when agitated by the least breath 
 of wind. The species delight in a rich, moist soil, 
 in the neighbourhood of running water, but they 
 do not thrive in marshes or soils saturated with 
 stagnant moisture. Their wood is light, of a white 
 or pale yellowish colour, very durable when kept 
 dry, not liable to warp or twist when sawn up, and 
 yields, from its elasticity, without splitting or crack- 
 ing when struck with violence ; that of some species 
 is also very slow in taking fire, and burns, when 
 ignited, in a smouldering manner, without flame, on 
 which account it is valuable, and extensively used 
 for the flooring of manufactories and other build- 
 ings. Of the fifteen species of Poplar described 
 in London's Arboretum, three are believed to be 
 natives of this country P. canescens, P. tremula, 
 and P. nigra. 
 
 P. canescens, the Gray or Common White Poplar, 
 and its different varieties, form trees of from eighty 
 to one hundred feet high and upwards, with silvery 
 smooth bark, upright and compact branches, and a 
 clear trunk, to a considerable height, and a spread- 
 ing head, usually in full-grown trees, but thinly 
 clothed with foliage. The leaves are roundish, deeply 
 waved, lobed, and toothed ; downy beneath, chiefly 
 grayish; leaves of young shoots cordate-ovate, un- 
 divided : fertile catkins cylindrical. Stigmas 8. 
 
 The White Poplar is commonly propagated by 
 layers, which ought to be transplanted into nursery 
 lines for at least one year before removal to their 
 final situation. The tree is admirably adapted for
 
 FOPLAR. 
 
 203 
 
 thickening or filling up blanks in woods and plan- 
 tations ; and, for this purpose, truncheons may be 
 planted from three to four inches in diameter, and 
 from ten to twelve feet high. These truncheons 
 have the great advantage of not being overshadowed 
 by the adjoining trees, which is almost always the 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Catkins of P. canescens.
 
 204 POPLAR, 
 
 case when young plants are used for filling up 
 vacancies among old trees. In a moderately good 
 and moist soil, the White Poplar will attain in ten 
 years, the height of thirty feet or upwards, with a 
 trunk from six to nine inches in diameter. 
 
 As an ornamental tree, the White Poplar is not 
 unworthy of a place in extensive parks and grounds, 
 particularly when planted in lone situations, or 
 near to water ; it ought, however, to be grouped 
 and massed with trees of equally rapid growth, else 
 it soon becomes disproportionate, and out of keep- 
 ing with those whose progress is comparatively 
 slow. It is well adapted in our climate for a way- 
 side tree, as it has no side branches to prevent the 
 admission of light and free circulation of air ; and 
 also to form avenues, when an effect is wished to 
 be produced in the shortest possible time. 
 
 The Aspen or Trembling Poplar, P. tremula, is 
 inferior to few of its tribe, presenting the appear- 
 ance of a tall, and, in proportion to its height, 
 rather a slender tree, with a clean straight trunk ; 
 the head ample, and formed of horizontal growing 
 branches, not crowded together, which assume, to- 
 wards the extremities, a drooping or pendulous 
 direction. The leaves are nearly orbicular, sinuate, 
 or toothed, smooth on both sides ; foot-stalks com- 
 pressed ; young branches hairy ; stigmas 4, crested 
 and eared at the base. The foliage is of a fine rich 
 green ; and the upper surface 'of the leaves being 
 somewhat darker than the under, a sparkling and 
 peculiar effect is produced by the almost constant 
 tremulous motion with which they are affected by
 
 POPLAR. 205 
 
 the slightest breath of air, and which is produced 
 bj the peculiar form of the foot-stalks, which in 
 this species is flattened, or vertically compressed 
 in relation to the plane of the leaf, causing a quiver- 
 ing or double lateral motion, instead of the usual 
 waving motion, where the foot-stalk is round, or 
 else compressed horizontally. 
 
 The Black Poplar, P. nigra, is a tree of the 
 largest size, with an ample head, composed of nu- 
 merous branches and terminal shoots. The bark 
 is ash-coloured, and becomes rough and deeply fur- 
 rowed with age. The catkins are bipartite, cylin- 
 drical ; the barren appear in March or April, long 
 before the expansion of the leaves, and, being large 
 and of a deep red colour, produce a rich effect at 
 that early period of the year. The capsules or seed- 
 vessels of the fertile catkin are round, and contain 
 a pure white cottony down, in which the seeds are 
 enveloped. The leaves appear about the middle 
 of May, and, when they first expand, their colour 
 is a mixture of red and yellow; afterwards they 
 are of a pale light green, with yellowish foot-stalks; 
 remarkably triangular, acuminate, serrate, smooth 
 on both sides ; stigmas 4. 
 
 There is a Black Poplar at Alloa House, in 
 Clackmannanshire, which, in 1782, at the height 
 of between three and four feet from the ground, 
 measured thirteen' feet and a half in circumference. 
 There is also a very graceful and beautiful tree of 
 the same species at Bury St. Edmunds, ninety feet 
 in height, and which measures, at the distance of 
 three feet from the ground, fifteen feet in girth.
 
 206 POPLAR. 
 
 The trunk rises forty-five feet before it divides, 
 when it throws out a vast profusion of branches. 
 
 The Poplar was dedicated by the Romans to Her- 
 cules, in honour of his having destroyed the monster 
 Cacus in a cavern near to the Aventine Mount, 
 where the Poplar formerly flourished in abundance. 
 In Pitt's translation of Virgil, the following refer- 
 ence is made to the rite of crowning with the 
 Poplar : 
 
 From that blest hour th' Arcadian tribe bestowed 
 Those solemn honours on their guardian god. 
 Potitius first, his gratitude to prove, 
 Adored Alcides* in the shady grove ; 
 And with the old Pinarian sacred line 
 These altars raised, and paid the rites divine, 
 Rites, which our sons for ever shall maintain ; 
 And ever sacred shall the grove remain. 
 Come, then, with us to great Alcides pray, 
 And crown your heads, and solemnize the day. 
 Invoke our common god with hymns divine, 
 And from the goblet pour the generous wine. 
 He said, and with the Poplar's sacred boughs, 
 Like great Alcides, binds his hoary brows. 
 
 * The Greek name of Hercules.
 
 THE SCOTCH FIR, OR PINE. 
 
 \Pinus* sylvestris. Xat. Ord. Coniferce; Linn. Moncec. Mon.] 
 
 THE Scotch Fir or Pine, and its varieties, are indi- 
 genous throughout the greater part of Europe. It 
 also extends into the north, east, and west of Asia ; 
 and is found at Nootka Sound in Vancouver's 
 Island, on the north-west coast of North America. 
 
 * Generic characters. Flowers monoecious. Cones woody, 
 with numerous 2-seeded scales, thickened and angular at the end. 
 Seeds with a crustaceous coat, winged. Leaves acerose, in clus- 
 ters of from 2 to 5, surrounded by scarious scales at the base.
 
 208 SCOTCH FIB. 
 
 In the south of Europe it grows at an elevation 
 of from 1000 to 1500 feet ; in the Highlands of 
 Scotland, at 2700 feet ; and in Norway and Lap- 
 land, at 700 feet. Widely dispersed, however, as 
 the species is throughout the mountainous regions 
 of Europe, it is only found in profusion between 
 52 and 65 N. lat. It occurs in immense forests 
 in Poland and Russia, as well as in northern Ger- 
 many, Sweden, Norway, and Lapland, up to the 
 70 of N. lat. The indigenous forests of Scotland, 
 which formerly occupied so large a portion of its 
 surface, have been greatly reduced within the last 
 sixty years, chiefly on account of the pecuniary 
 embarrassments of their proprietors. 
 
 The Scotch Fir, in favourable situations, attains 
 the height of from eighty to one hundred feet, with 
 a trunk from two to four feet in diameter, and a 
 head somewhat conical or rounded, but generally 
 narrow in proportion to its height, as compared 
 with the heads of other broad-leafed trees. The 
 bark is of a reddish tinge, comparatively smooth, 
 scaling off in some varieties, and rough and fur- 
 rowed in others. The branches are disposed in 
 whorls from two to four together, and sometimes 
 five or six ; they are at first slightly turned up- 
 wards, but finally become somewhat pendant, with 
 the exception of those branches which form the 
 summit of the tree. The leaves are in sheaths, 
 spirally disposed on the branches ; they are distin- 
 guished at first sight from all other pines in which 
 the leaves are in pairs, by being much more glau- 
 cous, more especially when in a young state, and
 
 SCOTCH FIR. 
 
 209 
 
 straighter. The general length of the leaves, in 
 vigorous young trees, is from two to three inches ; 
 but in old trees they are much shorter ; they are 
 smooth on both surfaces, stiff, obtuse at the extremi- 
 ties, with a small point, and minutely serrated ; 
 
 Foliage, Flowers, Cones ; Cone opened, showing the Seeds.
 
 210 SCOTCH FIR. 
 
 dark green on the upper side, and glaucous and 
 striated on the under side. The leaves remain 
 green on the tree during four years, and generally 
 drop off at the commencement of the fifth year. 
 Long before this time, generally at the beginning 
 of the second year, they have entirely lost their light 
 glaucous hue, and have become of the dark sombre 
 appearance which is characteristic of this tree at 
 every season except that of summer, when the 
 young glaucous shoots of the year give it a lighter 
 hue. The flowers appear commonly in May and 
 June. The barren flowers are from half an inch 
 to upwards of an inch long, are placed in whorls 
 at the base of the young shoots of the current year, 
 and contain two or more stamens with large yellow 
 anthers, which discharge a sulphur-coloured pollen 
 in great abundance. The fertile flowers, or embryo 
 cones, appear on the summits of the shoots of the 
 current year, generally two on the point of a shoot, 
 but sometimes from four to six. The colour of 
 these embryo cones is generally purple and green ; 
 but they are sometimes yellowish or red. It re- 
 quires eighteen months to mature the cones ; and 
 in a state of nature it is two years before the seeds 
 are in a condition to germinate. The cone, which 
 is stalked, and, when mature, begins to open at the 
 narrow extremity, is perfectly conical while closed, 
 rounded at the base, from one to two inches in 
 length, and about an inch across in the broadest 
 part ; as it ripens, the colour changes from green 
 to reddish brown. The scales of the cone are ob- 
 long, and terminate externally in a kind of depressed
 
 SCOTCH FIR. 211 
 
 pyramid, which varies in shape and height. At 
 the base of each scale, and close to the axis of the 
 cone, two oval-winged seeds or nuts are lodged. 
 From these nuts the young plant appears in the 
 shape of a slender stem, with from five to six linear 
 leaves or cotyledons. In ten years, in the climate 
 of London, plants will attain the height of from 
 twenty-five to thirty feet ; and in twenty years, 
 from forty to fifty feet. 
 
 The great contempt in which the Scotch Fir is 
 commonly held, says Gilpin, " arises, I believe, 
 from two causes its dark murky hue is unpleasing, 
 and we rarely see it in a picturesque state. In 
 perfection it is a very picturesque tree, though 
 we have little idea of its beauty. It is a hardy 
 plant, and is therefore put to every servile office. 
 If you wish to screen your house from the south- 
 west wind, plant Scotch Firs ; and plant them 
 close and thick. If you want to shelter a nursery 
 of young trees, plant Scotch Firs ; and the phrase 
 is, you may afterwards weed them out as you please. 
 I admire its foliage, both for the colour of the leaf, 
 and its mode of growth. Its ramification, too, is 
 irregular and beautiful, and not unlike that of the 
 stone pine ; which it resembles also in the easy 
 sweep of its stem, and likewise in the colour of 
 the bark, which is commonly, as it attains age, of 
 a rich reddish brown. The Scotch Fir, indeed, in 
 its stripling state, is less an object of beauty. Its 
 pointed and spiry shoots, during the first years of 
 its growth, are formal ; and yet I have sometimes 
 seen a good contrast produced between its spiry
 
 212 SCOTCH FIR. 
 
 points and the round-headed oaks and elms in its 
 neighbourhood. When I speak, however, of the 
 Scotch Fir as a beautiful individual, I conceive it 
 when it has outgrown all the improprieties of its 
 youth ; when it has completed its full age, and when, 
 like Ezekiel's cedar, it has formed its head high 
 among the thick branches. I may be singular in 
 my attachment to the Scotch Fir. I know it has 
 many enemies; but my opinion will weigh only 
 with the reasons I have given." Sir Thomas Dick 
 Lauder, in his commentary on this passage, says, 
 " We agree with Gilpin to the fullest extent in his 
 approbation of the Scotch Fir as a picturesque tree. 
 We, for our part, confess, that we have seen it 
 towering in full majesty, in the midst of some 
 appropriate Highland scene, and sending its limbs 
 abroad with all the unconstrained freedom of a 
 hardy mountaineer, as if it claimed dominion over 
 the savage regions around it ; we have then looked 
 upon it as a very sublime object. People who 
 have not seen it in its native climate and soil, and 
 who judge of it from the wretched abortions which 
 are swaddled and suffocated in English plantations, 
 in deep, heavy, and eternally wet clays, may well 
 call it a wretched tree ; but, when its foot is among 
 its own Highland heather, and when it stands freely 
 on its native knoll of dry gravel, or thinly covered 
 rock, over which its roots wander afar in the wild- 
 est reticulation, whilst its tall, furrowed, and often 
 gracefully sweeping red and gray trunk, of enor- 
 mous circumference, rears aloft its high umbrageous 
 canopy, then would the greatest sceptic on this
 
 SCOTCH FIB. Zio 
 
 point be compelled to prostrate his mind before it 
 with a veneration which, perhaps, was never before 
 excited in him by any other tree. " 
 
 Some of the most picturesque trees of this kind, 
 perhaps, in England, adorn Mr. Lenthall's mansion, 
 of Basilsleigh, in Berkshire. The soil is a deep 
 rich sand, which seems to be well adapted to them. 
 As they are here at perfect liberty, they not only 
 become large and noble trees, but they expand 
 themselves likewise in all the careless forms of 
 nature. 
 
 There is a remarkably fine specimen of the 
 Scotch Fir at Castle Huntly, in Perthshire. In 
 1796, it measured thirteen feet six inches in girth, 
 at three feet from the ground ; and close to the 
 ground, it measured nineteen feet, and is thought 
 not unlikely to be the largest planted Fir in the 
 country. The word planted is very properly used 
 here, as many examples of larger natural Firs have 
 been produced. Professor Walker observes, that 
 few Fir-trees were planted before the beginning of 
 the present century ; and that as the Fir is a tree 
 which, from the number of rings found in it, will 
 probably grow four hundred years, it is impossible 
 that the planted Firs can have arrived at perfec- 
 tion. "This," says Sir T. Lauder, " may be all 
 true ; but as the reasoning proceeds upon the fact 
 of a natural Swedish tree, perfectly sound, having 
 three hundred and sixty circles in it, it by no 
 means follows that a planted Fir will not rot in a 
 premature state of disease, and die before it has 
 sixty circles."
 
 214 SCOTCH FIR. 
 
 The acerose or needle leaf of the Pine seems 
 necessary to protect the tree from injury ; for if 
 their leaves wei'e of a broader form, the branches 
 would be borne down, in winter, by the weight of 
 snow in the northern latitudes, and they would be 
 more liable to be uprooted by the mighty hurricane. 
 It is, however, enabled thus to evade both ; as the 
 snow falls through, and the winds penetrate be- 
 tween, the interstices of its filiform leaf. Strug- 
 gling through the branches, the wind comes in con- 
 tact with such an innumerable quantity of points 
 and edges, as, even when gentle, to produce a deep 
 murmur, or sighing ; but when the breeze is strong, 
 or the storm is raging abroad, it produces sounds 
 like the murmuring of the ocean, or the beating 
 of the surge and billows among the rocks : 
 
 The loud wind through the forest wakes 
 
 With sounds like ocean roaring, wild and deep, 
 
 And in yon gloomy Pines strange music makes, 
 
 Like symphonies unearthly heard in sleep ; 
 
 The sobbing waters wash their waves and weep : 
 
 "Where moans the blast its dreary path along, 
 
 The bending Firs a mournful cadence keep, 
 
 And mountain rocks re-echo to the song, 
 
 As fitful raves the wind the hills and woods among. 
 
 DBUMMOND. 
 
 Wordsworth, also, thus speaks of Pine-trees moved 
 by a gentle breeze : 
 
 An idle voice the Sabbath region fills 
 
 Of deep that calls to deep across the hills, 
 
 Broke only by the melancholy sound 
 
 Of drowsy bells for ever tinkling round ; 
 
 Faint wail of eagle melting into blue 
 
 Beneath the cliffs, and Pine-wood's steady sugh.
 
 SCOTCH FIR. 215 
 
 The quality of the timber of the Scotch Fir, 
 according to some, is altogether dependent on soil, 
 climate, and slowness of growth ; but, according 
 to others, it depends jointly on these circumstances, 
 and on the kind of variety cultivated. It is ac- 
 knowledged that the timber of the Scotch Fir, 
 grown on rocky surfaces, or where the soil is dry 
 and sandy, is generally more resinous and red- 
 der in colour, than that of such as grow on soils 
 of a clayey nature, boggy, or on chalk. At what 
 time the sap wood is transformed into durable or 
 red wood, has not yet beeii determined by vegetable 
 physiologists. The durability of the red timber of 
 this tree was supposed by Brindley, the celebrated 
 engineer, to be as great as that of the oak ; and 
 some of it, grown in the north Highlands, is re- 
 ported to have been as fresh and full of resin after 
 having been three hundred years in the roof of an 
 old castle, as newly-imported timber from Memel. 
 
 The red wood timber of the Scottish forests, 
 similar, in every respect, to the best Baltic Pine, 
 is the produce of trees that have numbered from 
 one to two or more centuries. In Norway, it is 
 not considered full-grown timber till it has reached 
 from one hundred and thirty to two hundred years. 
 It seems, then, rather preposterous, that any one 
 should expect that plantation Fir timber, cut down 
 when, perhaps, not more than thirty years old, and 
 consisting entirely of sap wood, should be adapted 
 to all those purposes which require the best full- 
 grown and matured timber ; and yet such seems 
 very generally to have been the case, and to the
 
 216 SCOTCH FIR. 
 
 disappointment at not finding those expectations 
 realized, may be attributed a large portion of that 
 prejudice and dislike so generally entertained to- 
 wards this tree. 
 
 On Hampstead Heath, near London, there are a 
 number of Pines which are said to have been raised 
 from seed brought from Ravenna. If so, the cones 
 are very different from those of the Ravenna Pine 
 described by Leigh Hunt : 
 
 Various the trees and passing foliage there, 
 
 Wild pear, and oak, and dusky juniper, 
 
 With bryony between in trails of white, 
 
 And ivy, and the suckle's streaky light, 
 
 And moss warm gleaming with a sudden mark, 
 
 Like flings of sunshine left upon the bark ; 
 
 And still the Pine long-haired, and dark, and tall, 
 
 In lordly right, predominant o'er all. 
 
 Much they admire that old religious tree, 
 With shaft above the rest up-shooting free, 
 And shaking, when its dark locks feel the wind, 
 Its wealthy fruit with rough Mosaic rind.
 
 THE SILVER FIK. 
 
 [Abies * picea. Nat. Ord Coniferce; Linn. Monoec. Man.] 
 
 THE Silver Fir is indigenous to the mountains of 
 Central Europe, and to the west and north of Asia, 
 rising to the commencement of the zone of the 
 Scotch fir. It is found in France, on the Pyrenees, 
 the Alps, and the Vosges ; in Italy, Spain, Greece, 
 and the south of Germany ; also in Russia and 
 Siberia ; but it is not found indigenous in Britain 
 or Ireland. On the Carpathian mountains it is 
 
 * For the generic characters, see p. 221. 
 p
 
 218 SILVER FIB. 
 
 found to the height of 3200 feet ; and on the Alps, 
 to the height of from 3000 to 4000 feet. Wherever 
 it is found of a large size, as in the neighbourhood 
 of Strasburg, and in the Vosges, where it has 
 attained the height of one hundred and fifty feet, 
 it invariably grows in good soil, and in a situation 
 sheltered rather than exposed. It appears to have 
 been introduced into England about the commence- 
 ment of the seventeenth century ; as we learn from 
 Evelyn, that in 1663 there were two Silver Firs 
 growing at Harefield, Middlesex, which were there 
 planted sixty years before, at two years' growth 
 from the seed, the larger of which had risen to 
 the height of 81 feet, and was 13 feet in girth 
 below; and it was calculated that it contained 146 
 feet of good timber. 
 
 In full-grown trees, the trunk of the Silver Fir 
 is from six to eight feet in diameter, covered, till 
 its fortieth or fiftieth year, with a whitish-gray 
 bark, tolerably smooth ; but, as it increases in 
 age, it becomes cracked and chapped. At a still 
 greater age, the bark begins to scale off in large 
 pieces, leaving the trunk of a dark brown colour 
 beneath. The branches stand out horizontally, 
 as do the branchlets and spray, with reference to 
 the main stem of the branch. The leaves on 
 young trees are distinctly two-rowed, and the 
 general surface of the rows is flat; but, as the 
 tree advances in age, and especially on cone-bear- 
 ing shoots, the disposition of the leaves is less per- 
 fect. In every stage of growth they are turned 
 up at the points ; but more especially so on old
 
 SILVER FIR. 
 
 219 
 
 trees, and on cone-bearing branches. The leaves 
 are shorter and broader, and are set much thicker 
 on the spray, than those of other firs and pines. 
 The upper surface of the leaves is also of a darker 
 and brighter green, while underneath they have 
 
 Foliage and Cones of A. picea, or Picea.
 
 220 SILVER FIR. 
 
 two white silvery lines running lengthwise on each 
 side of the midrib, which make a conspicuous ap- 
 pearance on the partially turned up leaves ; whence 
 its name. The cones of the Silver Fir are large 
 and cylindrical, being from six to eight inches 
 long, erect, and bluntly pointed at both ends. 
 When young they are green, but, as they advance 
 to maturity, the scales acquire a rich purplish 
 colour, and when quite ripe are deep brown ; they 
 remain upwards of a year upon the tree, as they 
 first appear in May, when they blossom, and do 
 not ripen the seed till October of the following 
 year. The scales are large, with a long dorsal 
 bract, and fall from the axillar spindle of the cone 
 in the spring of the second year. The seeds are 
 irregular and angular, with a large membranaceous 
 wing. Cones with fertile seeds are seldom pro- 
 duced before the tree has attained its fortieth year; 
 though without, seeds often appear before half that 
 period has elapsed. 
 
 Gilpin remarks that " the Silver Fir has very 
 little to boast in point of picturesque beauty. It 
 has all the regularity of the spruce, but without 
 its floating foliage. There is a sort of harsh, stiff, 
 unbending formality in the stem, the branches, 
 and the whole economy of the tree, which makes 
 it disagreeable. We rarely see it, even in its 
 happiest state, assume a picturesque shape." In 
 this opinion Sir T. D. Lauder does not entirely 
 coincide, for, in his remarks upon Gilpin's text, he 
 says, " As to the picturesque effect of this tree, we 
 have seen many of them throw out branches from
 
 SILVER FIR. 221 
 
 near the very root, that twined and swept away 
 from them in so bold a manner, as to give them, 
 in a very great degree, that character which is 
 most capable of engaging the interest of the artist." 
 The rate of growth of the Silver Fir is slow 
 when young, but rapid after it has attained the 
 age of ten or twelve years. In England, under 
 advantageous circumstances, it attains a magni- 
 ficent size, some recorded trees being from 100 
 to 130 feet in height, with trunks varying in 
 diameter from three to six feet, and containing 
 from two hundred to upwards of three hundred 
 feet of timber. In Scotland, also, it has reached 
 dimensions equally great. At Roseneath Castle, 
 Argyleshire, there are two Silver Firs which 
 Sir T. D. Lauder considered the finest speci- 
 mens he had ever seen. When measured in 1817, 
 he says, "the circumference of one of them, at 
 five feet from the ground, was fifteen feet nine 
 inches ; at three feet from the ground, it was seven- 
 teen feet six inches ; and just above the roots, it 
 was nineteen feet eight inches. The second tree 
 was sixteen feet two inches in girth at five feet from 
 the ground ; seventeen feet eleven inches at three 
 feet from the ground ; and nineteen feet ten inches 
 when measured immediately above the roots." 
 The Silver Fir likewise grows to a large size in 
 Ireland, much more rapidly than any other tree. 
 Some planted in a wet clay, on a rock, have 
 measured twelve feet in girth at the base, and 
 seven feet six inches at five feet high, after a 
 growth of forty years.
 
 THE NORWAY SPRUCE FIR. 
 
 [Abies* exceka. Nat. Ord. Conifera; lArm.Monmc. MonJ] 
 
 THOUGH a native of the mountains of Europe and 
 Asia in similar parallels of latitude, the Spruce 
 Fir is not considered indigenous to Britain. It 
 must, however, have been introduced at an early 
 period, as it is mentioned bj our oldest writers on 
 arboriculture. It is most common in Lapland, 
 Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and throughout the 
 
 * Generic characters. Flowers monoecious. Barren catkins 
 crowded, racemose. Scales of the cone thinned away to the edge, 
 and usually membranous or coriaceous. Leaves never fascicled.
 
 SPRUCE FIR. 223 
 
 north of Germany. It grows in the south of 
 Norway at an elevation of 3000 feet above the 
 level of the sea, and in the north on mountains 
 in 70 N. lat. at 750 feet. In the valleys of the 
 Swiss Alps, the Spruce is frequently found above 
 one hundred and fifty feet in height, with trunks 
 from four to five feet in diameter. This tree 
 requires a soft moist soil. Among dry rocks and 
 stones, where the Scotch fir would flourish, the 
 Spruce Fir will scarcely grow. 
 
 The Norway Spruce Fir is the loftiest of Euro- 
 pean trees, attaining, in favourable situations, the 
 enormous height of one hundred and eighty feet ; 
 with a very straight upright trunk, from two to six 
 feet in diameter, and widely extending branches, 
 which spread out regularly on every side, so as to 
 form a cone-like or pyramidal shape, terminating 
 in a straight arrow-like leading shoot. In young 
 trees, the branches are disposed in regular whorls 
 from the base to the summit ; but in old trees the 
 lower branches drop off. The trunk is covered 
 with a thin bark, of a reddish colour and scaly sur- 
 face, with occasional warts or small excrescences 
 distributed over its surface. The leaves are soli- 
 tary, of a dark grassy green, generally under one 
 inch in length, straight, stiff, and sharp-pointed, 
 disposed around the shoots, and more crowded 
 together laterally than on the upper and under 
 sides of the branchlets. The barren flowers, 
 about one inch long, are cylindrical, on long cat- 
 kins, curved, of a yellowish colour, with red tips, 
 and discharging, when expanded, a profusion of
 
 224 SPRUCE FIR. 
 
 yellow pollen. The fertile flowers are produced at 
 the ends of the branches, first appearing as small 
 pointed purplish red catkins ; they afterwards 
 gradually assume the cone-like form, and become 
 pendant, changing first into a green and latterly 
 into a reddish brown, acquiring a length of from 
 five to seven inches, and a breadth of above two 
 inches. The scales are rhomboidal, slightly in- 
 curved, and rugged or toothed at the tip, with two 
 seeds in each scale. The seeds, which are very 
 small, and furnished with large membranous wings, 
 are not shed till the spring of the second year. 
 
 As an ornamental tree, all admirers of regu- 
 larity and symmetry are generally partial to the 
 Spruce. Gilpin was, however, no great admirer 
 of the tree ; but still he allows it to have had its 
 peculiar beauties. " The Spruce Fir," he says, " is 
 generally esteemed a more elegant tree than the 
 Scotch pine ; and the reason, I suppose, is because 
 it often feathers to the ground, and grows in a 
 more exact and regular shape : but this is a prin- 
 cipal objection to it. It often wants both form 
 and beauty. We admire its floating foliage, in 
 which it sometimes exceeds all other trees; but 
 it is rather disagreeable to see a repetition of these 
 feathery strata, beautiful as they are, reared tier 
 above tier, in regular order, from the bottom of a 
 tree to the top. Its perpendicular stem, also, 
 which has seldom any lineal variety, makes the 
 appearance of the tree still more formal. It is 
 not always, however, that the Spruce Fir grows 
 with so much regularity. Sometimes a lateral
 
 SPRUCE FIR. 
 
 225 
 
 branch, here and there taking the lead beyond the 
 rest, breaks somewhat through the order commonly 
 observed, and forms a few chasms, which have a 
 good effect. When this is the case, the Spruce 
 Fir ranks among picturesque trees. Sometimes it 
 
 Folkge and Cones of A. excelsa.
 
 226 SPRUCE FIR. 
 
 has as good an effect, and in many circumstances 
 a better, when the contrast appears still stronger ; 
 when the tree is shattered by some accident, has 
 lost many of its branches, and is scathed and ragged. 
 A feathery branch, here and there, among broken 
 stems, has often an admirable effect; but it must 
 arise from some particular situation. In all cir- 
 cumstances, however, the Spruce Fir appears best 
 either as a single tree, or unmixed with any of its 
 fellows ; for neither it, nor any of the spear-headed 
 race, will ever form a beautiful clump without the 
 assistance of other trees." 
 
 The Spruce Fir is raised from seed, which should 
 be chosen from healthy vigorous trees. The young 
 plant appears with from seven to nine cotyledons, 
 but makes little progress till after the third year, 
 when it begins to put out lateral branches. Its 
 progress from this time, till its fifth or sixth year, 
 is at the annual rate of about six inches, after 
 which age its annual growth, in favourable soils, 
 is very rapid, the leading shoot being frequently 
 from two to three feet in length, and this increase 
 it continues to support with undiminished vigour 
 for forty or fifty years, many trees within that 
 period attaining a height of from sixty to eighty 
 feet. Its growth after this period is slower, and 
 the duration of the tree, in its native habitats, is 
 considered to range between one hundred and one 
 hundred and fifty years.
 
 THE SYCAMORE, OR GREATER MAPLE. 
 
 [Acer* pseudo-platanus. Nat. Ord. Aceracece ; Linn. Polyg. 
 Moncec.] 
 
 TURNER, who wrote in 1551, considered the Syca- 
 more as a stranger, or tree that had been intro- 
 duced. On the Continent it is spread over the 
 mountains of middle Europe ; and is found in 
 Switzerland, where it particularly abounds, grow- 
 ing at an elevation of from 2000 to 3000 feet 
 above the level of the sea, where the soil is dry 
 and of a good quality. 
 
 The Sycamore is "certainly a noble tree," vieing, 
 
 * For the generic characters, see p. 139.
 
 228 SYCAMORE. 
 
 in point of magnitude, with the oak, the ash, and 
 other trees of the first rank. It presents a grand 
 unbroken mass of foliage, contrasting well, in ap- 
 propriate situations, with trees of a lighter and 
 more airy character. It has round spreading 
 branches, and a smooth ash-coloured bark, fre- 
 quently broken into patches of different hues, by 
 peeling off in large flakes, like the planes. The 
 leaves have long foot-stalks, are four or five inches 
 broad, palmate, with five acute, unequally serrated 
 lobes ; the middle one largest, pale or shining 
 beneath. The flowers are green, the size of a 
 currant blossom, disposed into axillary, pendulous, 
 compound clusters ; stamens of the barren flower 
 twice as long as the corolla. Ovary downy, 
 with broad-spreading wings. Selby observes that 
 " from the strength of its spray, and the nature of 
 its growth, which is stiff and angular, the Sycamore 
 is especially calculated to act as a shelter or break- 
 wind in exposed situations, whether it be upon the 
 coast where it braves the cutting eastern blasts, 
 or upon bleak and elevated tracts, subject to long 
 continued and powerful winds ; for even in such 
 localities, provided the soil be dry, and of tolerable 
 quality, it attains a respectable size, and shows an 
 upright form, unconquered by the blast. It is, 
 probably, for these peculiar and enduring qualities 
 that we see it so frequently in the north of England 
 and in Scotland planted by itself, or sometimes 
 in company with the ash, around farm houses and 
 cottages, in high and exposed situations." This 
 custom is evidently alluded to by the Westmoreland
 
 SYCAMORE. 229 
 
 poet, in his description of the landscape on the 
 banks of the Wye : 
 
 Once again 
 
 Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, 
 That on a wild secluded scene impress 
 Thoughts of more deep seclusion ; and connect 
 
 Leaves, Bunch of Flowers, and Samarse of A. pseudo-platanus.
 
 230 SYCAMORE. 
 
 The landscape with the quiet of the sky. 
 The day is come when I again repose 
 Here, under the dark Sycamore, and view 
 These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard tufts, 
 "Which at this season, with their unripe fruits, 
 Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves 
 Among the woods and copses, nor disturb 
 The wild green landscape. Once again I see 
 These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines 
 Of sportive wood run wild : these pastoral farms 
 Green to the very door ; and wreaths of smoke, 
 Sent up, in silence, from among the trees ! 
 With some uncertain notice, as might seem 
 Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods, 
 Or of some hermit's cave, where by his fire 
 The hermit sits alone. 
 
 These beauteous forms, 
 
 Through a long absence, have not been to me 
 As is a landscape to a blind man's eye : 
 But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din 
 Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, 
 In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, 
 Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; 
 And passing even into my purer mind, 
 With tranquil restoration : feelings, too, 
 Of unremembered pleasure : such, perhaps, 
 As have no slight or trivial influence 
 On that best portion of a good man's life, 
 His little, nameless, unremembered acts 
 Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust, 
 To them I may have owed another gift, 
 Of aspect more sublime : that blessed mood, 
 In which the burthen of the mystery 
 In which the heavy and the weary weight 
 Of all this unintelligible world 
 Is lightened : that serene and blessed mood, 
 In which the affections gently lead us on, 
 Until the breath of this corporeal frame, 
 And even the motion of our human blood, 
 Almost suspended, we are laid asleep 
 In body, and become a living soul : 
 While with an eye made quiet by the power
 
 STCAMORE. 231 
 
 Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, 
 We see into the Me of things. 
 
 If this 
 
 Be but a vain belief, yet, O ! how oft, 
 In darkness, and amid the many shapes 
 Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir 
 Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, 
 Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, 
 How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, 
 O sylvan Wye ! Thou wanderer thro' the woods, 
 How often has my spirit turned to thee ! 
 
 WOBDSWORTH. 
 
 The Sycamore is not unfrequently planted in 
 streets and before houses, on account of its spread- 
 ing branches and thick shade, for which it bears 
 a high reputation. Of this tree Sir T. D. Lauder 
 says, " the spring tints are rich, tender, glowing, 
 and harmonious. In summer, its deep green hue 
 accords well with its grand and massy form ; and 
 the browns and dingy reds of its autumnal tints 
 harmonize well^with the other colours of the mixed 
 grove, to which they give a depth of tone. It is a 
 favourite Scotch tree, having been much planted 
 about old aristocratic residences in Scotland." 
 
 The Sycamore, in the language of flowers, signi- 
 fies curiosity, because it was supposed to be the 
 " tree on which Zaccheus climbed to see Christ 
 pass on his way to Jerusalem, when the people 
 strewed leaves and branches of palm and other 
 trees in his way, exclaiming, ' Hosanna to the Son 
 of David ! ' The tree which is frequently called 
 the Sycamore in the Bible, was not the species 
 under description, A. pseudo-platanus, but a species 
 of fig, Ficus sycomorus, a native of Egypt, where
 
 232 SYCAMORE. 
 
 it is a timber-tree exceeding the middle size, and 
 bearing edible fruit." 
 
 The common Sycamore is generally propagated 
 by seed ; and its varieties by layers, or by budding 
 or grafting. It will also propagate freely by cut- 
 tings of the roots. It is a tree of rapid growth, 
 frequently attaining a diameter of from four to five 
 inches in twenty years. It arrives at its full growth 
 in fifty or sixty years ; but it requires to be eighty 
 or one hundred years old before its wood arrives 
 at perfection. It produces fertile seeds at the age 
 of twenty years, but flowers several years sooner. 
 The longevity of the tree is from one hundred and 
 forty to two hundred years, though it has been 
 known of a much greater age. There are many 
 fine Sycamores in different parts of the kingdom ; 
 the largest of which, one at Bishopton in Renfrew- 
 shire, is sixty feet in height and twenty feet in 
 girth. This tree is known to have been planted 
 before the Reformation, and is therefore more than 
 three hundred years old, yet it has the appear- 
 ance of being perfectly sound.
 
 -'- <V 
 
 --~ 
 
 THE COMMON WALNUT TREE. 
 
 [Juglans* regia. 
 
 Nat. Ord. Juglandacece ; Linn. Moncec. 
 Polya.] 
 
 THE Walnut tree is a native of Persia, and is found 
 growing wild in the North of China. It was known 
 to the Greeks and Romans, and was probably intro- 
 duced into this country by the latter. It is now 
 to be met with in every part of Europe, as far north 
 as Warsaw ; but it is nowhere so far naturalized 
 as to produce itself spontaneously from seed. It 
 
 * Generic characters. Flowers monoecious. Stamens 18 to 
 24.. Drupe with a 2-valved deciduous sarcocarp, or rind ; and 
 a deeply-wrinkled putamen or shell. 
 
 Q
 
 234 WALNUT. 
 
 ripens its fruit, in fine seasons, in the neighbour- 
 hood of Edinburgh, as a standard ; and it lives 
 against a wall as far north as Dunrobin Castle, in 
 Sutherlandshire. 
 
 The Walnut forms a large and lofty tree, with 
 strong spreading branches, attaining even in this 
 country to the height of ninety feet. The leaves 
 have three or four pairs of oval leaflets, terminated 
 by an odd one, which is longer than the rest. The 
 barren catkins are pendulous, and are produced 
 near the points of the shoots. The bark is thick 
 and deeply furrowed on the trunk; but on the 
 upper branches it is gray and smooth. The fruit 
 is green and oval ; and, in the wild species, contains 
 a small hard nut. In the most esteemed cultivated 
 varieties, the fruit is of a roundish oval, and is 
 strongly odoriferous ; nearly two inches long, and 
 one and a half broad. The nut occupies two-thirds 
 of the volume of the fruit. Towards autumn the 
 husk softens, and, decaying from about the nut, 
 allows it to fall out. 
 
 The nuts are used in different ways, and at 
 various stages of their growth; when young and 
 green, and before the shells become indurated, they 
 make an excellent and well-known pickle, as well 
 as a savoury kind of ketchup, and a liqueur is also 
 made from them in this state. Previous to their 
 becoming fully ripe, and while the kernel is yet 
 soft, they are eaten in France with a seasoning of 
 salt, pepper, vinegar, and shallots. When fully ripe, 
 they are both wholesome and easy of digestion, so 
 long as they remain fresh, and part freely from
 
 WALNUT. 
 
 235 
 
 the pellicle, or skin, which envelopes the kernel. 
 An oil is expressed from the nuts, which is of great 
 service to the artist in whites, and other colours, 
 and also for gold size and varnish. 
 
 When Walnuts are plentiful, it has been observed 
 
 __ Leaves, Catkins, and Nuts of J. regia.
 
 236 WALNUT. 
 
 that there is also a plentiful harvest. Virgil men- 
 tions this observation in the first of his Georgics, 
 which is thus translated by Martyn: "Observe 
 also when the Walnut tree shall put on its bloom 
 plentifully in the woods, and bend down its strong, 
 swelling branches : if it abounds in fruit, you will 
 have a like quantity of corn, and a great threshing 
 with much heat. But if it abounds with a luxuriant 
 shade of leaves, in vain shall your floor thresh the 
 corn, which abounds with nothing but chaff." 
 
 The Walnut is far from being an unpicturesque 
 tree, and planted at some distance from each other 
 they form shady and graceful avenues, and prosper 
 well in hedgerows. The Bergstras (which extends 
 from Heidelberg to Darmstadt) is planted entirely 
 with this tree ; for by an ancient law, the Border- 
 ers were compelled to plant and train them up, 
 chiefly on account of their ornament and shade, 
 so that a man might ride for miles about that 
 country, under a continued arbour or close walk 
 the traveller as well refreshed by its fruit as by its 
 shade. Amid other trees whose foliage may be of 
 a vivid green, its warm, russet-hued leaves present 
 a pleasing variety about the end of May ; and in 
 summer that variety is still preserved by the con- 
 trast of its yellowish hues with the darker tints of 
 other trees. It puts forth its leaves at such an 
 advanced period of the year, and sheds them so 
 early, that it is never long in harmony with the 
 grove. It, therefore, stands best alone, as the 
 premature loss of its foliage is then of less conse- 
 quence.
 
 WALNUT. 237 
 
 The Walnut tree is found abundantly in Bur- 
 gundy, where it stands in the midst of their corn 
 fields, at distances of sixty and a hundred feet, 
 and is said to be a preserver of the crops by keep- 
 ing the ground warm. Whenever a tree is felled, 
 which is only when old and decayed, a young one 
 is planted near it ; and in Evelyn's time, between 
 Hanau and Frankfort, in Germany, no young far- 
 mer was permitted to marry a wife, until he had 
 brought proof that he had planted a stated number 
 of these trees. M. Sorbiere mentions the Dutch 
 plantations of Walnut trees in terms of praise, re- 
 marking, that even in the very roads and common 
 highways, they are better preserved and maintained 
 than those about the houses and gardens belonging 
 to the nobility and gentry of most other countries. 
 
 The Walnut was formerly in great request as a 
 timber tree; its place is generally now supplied by 
 foreign woods, which excel that of our own growth. 
 It was much used by cabinet-makers for bedsteads, 
 and bureaus, for which purposes it is one of the 
 most durable woods of English growth. It is also 
 used for gun-stocks. Near the root of the tree the 
 wood is finely veined suitable for inlaying and 
 other ornamental works. 
 
 The sweet-leafed Walnut's undulated grain, 
 Polished with care, adds to the workman's art 
 Its varying beauties. 
 
 DODSLEY. 
 
 The Walnut is propagated by the nut ; which is 
 best sown where it is finally to remain, on account 
 of the tap root, which will thus have its full influ- 
 ence on the vigour of the tree. The plant is some-
 
 238 WALNUT. 
 
 what tender when young, and apt to be injured by 
 spring frosts : it, however, grows vigorously, and 
 attains in the climate of London the height of 
 twenty feet in ten years, beginning about that time 
 to bear fruit. 
 
 The Walnut sometimes attains a prodigious size 
 and a great age. Scamozzi, a celebrated Italian 
 architect, who died in 1616, mentions his having 
 seen at St. Nicholas, in Lorraine, a single plank of 
 the wood of this tree twenty-five feet wide, upon 
 which the Emperor Frederick III. had given a 
 sumptuous feast 
 
 There is a remarkable specimen of this tree at 
 Kinross House, in Kinross-shire, which measured 
 nine feet six inches in girth, in September, 1796, 
 and is supposed to have been planted about 1684. 
 Sir T. Dick Lauder says it is probably the oldest 
 Walnut tree in Scotland, and is evidently decaying, 
 though whether from accident or age is uncertain. 
 
 Collinson tells us of another, in his History of 
 Somersetshire, which he says grew in the Abbey 
 Church-yard, on the north side of St. Joseph's 
 Chapel. This was a miraculous Walnut tree, which 
 never budded forth before the feast of St. Barnabas 
 (that is, the llth June), and on that very day shot 
 forth leaves and flourished like its usual species. It 
 is strange to say how much this tree was sought 
 after by the credulous, and though not an uncom- 
 mon Walnut, Queen Anne, King James, and many 
 of the nobility, even when the times of monkish 
 superstition had ceased, gave large sums of money 
 for small cuttings from the original.
 
 THE WEYMOUTH PINE, 
 
 [Pinus* strobus. Nat. Ord. Conifers; Linn. Moncec. Marian.] 
 
 THIS Pine is a native of North America, growing 
 in fertile soils, on the sides of hills, from Canada to 
 Virginia. It was introduced about 1705, and was 
 soon after planted in great quantities at Longleat, 
 in Wiltshire, the seat of Lord Weymouth, where the 
 trees prospered amazingly, and whence the species 
 received the name of the Weymouth Pine. 
 
 In America, in the state of Vermont, and near 
 
 * For the generic characters, see p. 207.
 
 240 WEYMOUTH PINE. 
 
 the commencement of the river St. Lawrence, this 
 tree is found one hundred and eighty feet in height, 
 with a straight trunk, from about four to seven 
 feet in diameter. The trunk is generally free from 
 branches for two-thirds or three-fourths of its height; 
 the branches are short, and in whorls, or disposed 
 in tiers one above another, nearly to the top, which 
 consists of three or four upright branches, forming 
 a small conical head. The bark, on young trees, 
 is smooth, and even polished ; but as the tree 
 advances in age, it splits, and becomes rugged and 
 gray, but does not fall off in scales like that of 
 other Pines. The leaves are from three to four 
 inches long, straight, upright, slender, soft, trique- 
 trous, of a fine light bluish green, marked with sil- 
 very longitudinal channels ; scabrous and incon- 
 spicuously serrated on the margin ; spreading in 
 summer, but in winter contracted, and lying close 
 to the branches. The barren catkins are short, 
 elliptic, racemose, pale purple, mixed with yellow, 
 and turning red before they fall. The fertile cat- 
 kins are ovate-cylindrical ; erect, on short pedun- 
 cles when young, but when full-grown pendulous, 
 and from four to six inches long, slightly curved, 
 and composed of thin smooth scales, rounded at 
 the base, and partly covered with white resin, par- 
 ticularly on the tips of the scales ; apex of the 
 scales thick, and seeds oval, of a dull gray. The 
 cones open to shed the seeds in October of the 
 second year. 
 
 Gilpin is very severe upon this tree, and says 
 that it has very little picturesque beauty to recom-
 
 WEYMOUTH PINE. 
 
 241 
 
 mend it. On the contrary, this tree seems to be a 
 great addition to a landscape ; the meagreness of 
 foliage, which Gilpin considers one of its principal 
 defects, giving to it, in our opinion, an elegant 
 
 Foliage, Cones: Scale opened, with two winged Seeds of 
 P. strobus. 
 
 I
 
 242 WEYMODTH PINE. 
 
 appearance. He says that it is admired for its 
 polished bark; but he adds, the painter's eye pays 
 little attention to so trivial a circumstance, even 
 when the tree is considered as a single object. Its 
 stem rises with perpendicular exactness ; it rarely 
 varies, and its branches issue with equal formality 
 from its sides. Opposed to the wildness of other 
 trees, the regularity of the Weymouth Pine has 
 sometimes its beauty. A few of its branches hang- 
 ing from a mass of heavier foliage, may appear 
 light and feathery, while its spiry head may often 
 form an agreeable apex to a clump. 
 
 The Weymouth Pine is propagated from seed, 
 which come up the first year, and may be treated 
 like those of the Scotch fir. The rate of growth, 
 except in good soil and in very favourable situa- 
 tions, is slower than that of most European Pines. 
 Nevertheless, in the climate of London, it will 
 attain the height of twelve feet in ten years from 
 the seed. The wood is white or very palish yellow, 
 of a fine grain, soft, light, free from knots, and 
 easily wrought ; it is also durable, and not very 
 liable to split when exposed to the sun : but it has 
 little strength, gives a feeble hold to nails, and 
 sometimes swells from the humidity of the atmo- 
 sphere ; while, from the very great diminution of 
 the trunk from the base to the summit, it is diffi- 
 cult to procure planks of any great length and 
 uniform diameter. The largest Weymouth Pine 
 in this country is at Kingston, in Somersetshire. 
 In 1837 this tree was ninety-five feet in height, 
 with a trunk of three feet in diameter.
 
 THE WHITEBEAM TREE. 
 [Pyrus aria.* Nat. Ord. Rosacece; Linn. Icosa. Penta.~\ 
 
 THE Whitebeam tree is a native of most parts of 
 Europe, from Norway to the Mediterranean Sea ; 
 and also of Siberia and Western Asia. It is to be 
 met with in every part of Britain, varying greatly 
 in magnitude, according to soil and situation. It 
 seems to prefer chalky soils, or limestone rocks ; 
 
 * Generic characters. Calyx superior, monosepalous, 5-cleft. 
 Petals 5. Styles 2 to 5. Fruit a pome, 5-celled, each cell 2- 
 s ceded, cartilaginous.
 
 244 WHITEBEAM. 
 
 and also, according to Withering, loves dry hills 
 and open exposures, and flourishes either on gravel 
 or clay. The Whitebeam rises to the height of 
 forty or fifty feet, with a straight, erect, smooth 
 trunk, and numerous branches, which for the most 
 part tend upwards, and form a round or oval head. 
 The young shoots have a brown bark, covered with 
 a mealy down. The leaves are between two and 
 three inches long, and one and a half broad in the 
 middle, oval, light green above, and very white 
 and downy beneath. The flowers, which appear 
 in May, are terminal, in large corymbs, two inches 
 or more in diameter, and they are succeeded by 
 scarlet fruit. 
 
 Mr. Loudon says that, " as an ornamental tree, 
 the Whitebeam has some valuable properties. It 
 is of a moderate size, and of a definite shape ; and 
 thus, bearing a character of art, it is adapted for 
 particular situations, near works of art, where the 
 violent contrast exhibited by trees of picturesque 
 forms would be inharmonious. In summer, when 
 clothed with leaves, it forms a compact green 
 mass, till it is ruffled by the wind, when it sud- 
 denly assumes a mealy whiteness. In the winter 
 season, the tree is attractive from its smooth 
 branches and its large green buds ; which, from 
 their size and colour, seem already prepared for 
 spring, and remind us of the approach of that de- 
 lightful season. When the tree is covered with its 
 fruit, it is exceedingly ornamental." 
 
 The Whitebeam may be raised from seed, which 
 should be sown as soon as the fruit is ripe ; other-
 
 WHITEBEAM. 
 
 245 
 
 wise, if kept till spring, and then sown, they will 
 not come up till the spring following. The varieties 
 may be propagated by cuttings, or by layering; 
 but they root, by both modes, with great difficulty. 
 Layers require to be made of the young wood, and 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit of P. avium.
 
 246 WHITEBEAM. 
 
 to remain attached to the stool for two years. The 
 rate of growth, when the tree is young, and in a 
 good soil, is from eighteen to twenty-four inches 
 a year : after it has attained the height of fifteen or 
 twenty feet it grows much slower ; but it is a tree 
 of great duration. The roots descend very deep, 
 and spread very wide ; and the head of the tree is 
 less affected by prevailing winds than almost any 
 other. In the most exposed situations, on the 
 Highland mountains, this tree is seldom seen above 
 ten or fifteen feet high ; but it is always stiff and 
 erect. It bears lopping, and permits the grass to 
 grow under it. 
 
 The wood is hard and tough, and of a very close 
 grain, and will take a very high polish. It is much 
 used for knife handles, wooden spoons, axle-trees, 
 walking sticks, and tool-handles. Its principal 
 use, however, is for cogs for wheels in machinery.
 
 THE WILD BLACK CHERRY OR GEAN. 
 
 [Prunus Avium* Nat. Ord. Rosacece ; Linn. Icosa. Monogy J\ 
 
 THE Cherry, in a wild state, is indigenous in Cen- 
 tral Europe, and is also found in Russia up to 
 56 N. lat. In England, it is met with in woods 
 and hedges ; and is found apparently wild in Scot- 
 land and Ireland. 
 
 The Wild Cherry has grown in this country 
 from fifty to eighty-five feet in height. In cultiva- 
 tion, whether in woods or gardens, it may, in point 
 
 * Generic characters. Calyx inferior, 5-cleft. Petals 5. 
 Drupe roundish, covered with bloom ; the stone furrowed at its 
 inner edge.
 
 248 WILD BLACK CHERRY. 
 
 of general appearance, be included in these forms: 
 Large trees with stout branches, and shoots pro- 
 ceeding from the main stem, nearly horizontally ; 
 fastigiate trees, or with the branches appressed to 
 the stem, of a smaller size ; and small trees with 
 weak wood, and branches divergent and drooping. 
 The leaves vary so much in the cultivated varie- 
 ties, that it is impossible to characterise the sorts 
 by them ; but, in general, those of the large trees 
 are largest, and the lightest in colour, and those 
 of the slender-branched trees the smallest, and the 
 darkest in colour; the flowers are also largest on 
 the large trees. The specific characters of the 
 Wild Black Cherry may be thus stated : Leaves 
 drooping, oblong, obovate, pointed, serrated, some- 
 what pendant, slightly pubescent on the under side, 
 furnished with two glands at the base, and downy 
 beneath. Flowers white, in nearly sessile umbels, 
 not numerous. The colour of the fruit is a very 
 deep, dark red, or black ; the flesh is of the same 
 colour, small in quantity, austere and bitter before 
 it comes to maturity, and insipid when the fruit is 
 perfectly ripe. The nut is oval or ovate, like the 
 fruit, firmly adhering to the flesh, and very large 
 in proportion to the fruit. The juice is mostly 
 coloured : and the skin does not separate from the 
 flesh. 
 
 As a tree, the Wild Cherry is not only valuable 
 for its timber, but for the food which it supplies 
 to birds, by increasing the number of which, the 
 insects which attack trees of every kind are mate- 
 rially kept down. This is one reason why Cherry
 
 WELD BLACK CHERRY. 
 
 249 
 
 trees are generally encouraged in the forests of 
 France and Belgium: an additional reason, in 
 Britain, is the nourishment which they afford to 
 singing birds, particularly to the blackbird and 
 thrush, and while any are to be found on the trees, 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit of P. Avium. 
 K
 
 250 WILD BLACK CHERRY. 
 
 they may be said to convert them into musical 
 bowers. As an ornamental tree it is also worth 
 cultivating, as it produces a profusion of flowers 
 from an early age, and at an early period of the 
 year; these from their snowy whiteness, contrast 
 well with the blossom of the almond and the 
 scarlet thorn. Its foliage is also handsome, though 
 rather too uniform and unbroken to produce pic- 
 turesque effect; in the autumn, when it assumes 
 a deep purplish red -colour, it gives a great richness 
 to the landscape, and contrasts well with the yel- 
 lows and browns which. predominate at that season. 
 The Wild Cherry is also recommended for the 
 copse, because it produces a strong shoot, and will 
 shoot forth from the roots as the elm, especially 
 if you fell lusty trees. In light ground it will in- 
 crease to a goodly tall tree, of which some have 
 been known to attain the height of more than 
 eighty-five feet. Sir T. D. Lauder says, "It may 
 very well be called a forest tree, seeing that in 
 many parts of Scotland it is almost as numerous, 
 and propagates itself as fast as the birch ; it grows, 
 moreover, to be a very handsome timber-tree, and 
 the wood of it makes very pretty furniture. In 
 form, it is oftener graceful than grand; and its 
 foliage is rather too sparse to produce that tufty 
 effect which gives breadtli of light and depth of 
 shadow enough to please the painter's eye. But 
 on the cliffs of romantic rivers, such as the Find- 
 horn, and other Scottish streams of the same cha- 
 racter, where it is stinted of soil, it often shoots from 
 the crevices of the rocks in very picturesque forms ;
 
 WILD BLACK CHERRY. 251 
 
 and the scarlet of its autumnal tint, when not in 
 excess, sometimes produces very brilliant touches 
 in the landscape, when the neighbouring trees 
 happen to be in harmony with it;" and if "merely 
 considered as a natural object, nothing can be 
 more splendid than its appearance when covered 
 with a full blow of flowers in spring, or more gor- 
 geous than the hue of its autumnal livery." 
 
 " The Cherry has always been a favourite tree 
 with poets ; the brilliant red of the fruit, the 
 whiteness and profusion of the blossoms, and the 
 vigorous growth of the tree, affording abundant 
 similies. At Ely, in Cambridgeshire, when the 
 cherries are ripe, numbers of people repair, on 
 what they call Cherry Sunday, to the cherry or- 
 chards in the neighbourhood ; where, on the pay- 
 ment of 6d. each, they are allowed to eat as many 
 cherries as they choose. A similar fete is held at 
 Montmorency, in France. A festival is also cele- 
 brated annually at Hamburg, called the Feast of 
 the Cherries, during which troops of children 
 parade the streets with green boughs, ornamented 
 with cherries. The original of this fete is said to 
 be as follows : In 1432, when the city of Ham- 
 burg was besieged by the Hussites, one of the 
 citizens, named Wolf, proposed that all the chil- 
 dren in the city, between seven and fourteen 
 years of age, should be clad in mourning, and 
 sent as suppliants to the enemy. Procopius Nasus, 
 chief of the Hussites, was so much moved by this 
 spectacle, that he not only promised to spare the 
 city, but regaled the young suppliants with cher-
 
 252 WILD BLACK CHERRY. 
 
 ries and other fruits ; and the children returned 
 crowned with leaves, shouting ' Victory ! ' and hold- 
 ing boughs laden with cherries in their hands." 
 London. 
 
 The Common Wild Cherry is almost always 
 raised from seed; but, as the roots throw up 
 suckers in great abundance, these suckers might 
 be employed for the same purpose. When plants 
 are to be raised from seed, the cherries should be 
 gathered when fully ripe and sown immediately 
 with the flesh on, and covered with about an inch 
 of light mould. The strongest plants, at the end 
 of the next season, will be about eighteen inches 
 in height ; these may be drawn out from among 
 the smaller plants, and transplanted into nursery 
 rows, from whence they will, in another season, 
 be fit to be transferred to the plantations, or to be 
 grafted or budded. It will grow in any soil or 
 situation, neither too wet nor entirely a strong 
 clay. It stands less in need of shelter than any 
 other fruit-bearing tree whatever, and for surround- 
 ing kitchen gardens, to form a screen against high 
 winds. Dr. Withering observes that it thrives 
 best when unmixed with other trees ; that it bears 
 pruning, and suffers the grass to grow under it.
 
 THE WILD SERVICE-TREE. 
 
 [Pyrus* torminalis. Nat. Ord. Rosacea; Linn. Icos. Pentag.~\ 
 
 THE Common Wild Service-tree is a native of 
 various parts of Europe, from Germany to the 
 Mediterranean, and of the south of Russia, and 
 Western Asia. It is found in woods and hedges in 
 the middle and south of England, but not in Scot- 
 land or Ireland. It generally grows in strong 
 clayey soils. 
 
 This tree grows to the height of forty or fifty 
 feet, spreading at the top into many branches, 
 and forming a large head. The branches are well 
 
 * For the generic characters, see p. 243.
 
 254 WILD SERVICE. 
 
 clad with leaves, and are covered when young with 
 a purplish bark, with white spots. The leaves are 
 on pretty long foot-stalks, and are nearly four 
 inches in length and three in breadth in the 
 middle, simple, somewhat cordate, serrate, seven- 
 lobed, bright green on the upper side, and woolly 
 underneath. The flowers are white, in large, ter- 
 minal, downy panicles ; they appear in May, and 
 are succeeded by roundish compressed fruit, simi- 
 lar in appearance to large haws, and ripen late 
 in autumn, when they are brown. If kept till 
 they are soft, in the same way as medlars, they 
 have an agreeable acid flavour. 
 
 The Service-tree gives the husbandman an early 
 presage of the approaching spring, by putting forth 
 its adorned buds ; and it ventures to peep out even 
 in the severest seasons. As an ornamental tree, 
 its large green buds strongly recommend it in the 
 winter and spring ; as its fine large-lobed leaves do 
 in summer, and its large and numerous clusters of 
 rich brown fruit do in autumn. 
 
 The best mode of propagating the Service-tree 
 is by suckers. Of these it puts forth a goodly 
 number : and it may also be budded with great 
 improvement. It prospers best in good stiff ground, 
 of a nature rather cold than hot ; for where the 
 soil is too dry, it will not yield well. This tree 
 may either be grafted on itself, or on the white 
 thorn and quince. To this may be added the 
 Mespilus, or medlar, being a very hard wood, and 
 of which very beautiful walking-sticks are some- 
 times made. The timber of the Service-tree is
 
 WILD SERVICE. 
 
 255 
 
 useful for the joiner, and it has occasionally been 
 used for wainscoting rooms. It is also used for 
 bows, pulleys, screws, mill and other spindles ; for 
 goads to drive oxen with ; for pistol and gun stocks ; 
 and for most of the purposes for which the wild 
 pear-tree is serviceable. It is valued by the turner 
 
 Leaves, Flowers, and Fruit of P. iorminalis.
 
 256 WILD SERVICE. 
 
 in the manufacture of various curiosities, having a 
 very delicate grain, which makes a showy appear- 
 ance ; and it is very durable. When rubbed over 
 with well -boiled linseed oil, it is an admirable 
 imitation of ebony, or almost any Indian wood. 
 
 One of the finest specimens of the Service-tree 
 in England is said to be at Arley Hall, near 
 Bewdley. This tree is fifty-four feet six inches 
 high ; the diameter of the trunk, at a foot from 
 the ground, is three feet six inches ; and that of 
 the head is fifty-eight feet eight inches.
 
 THE WILLOW-TREE. 
 
 [Salix* Nat. Ord. Amentiferce ; Linn. Dioec. Diand.~\ 
 
 The willow tribes that ever weep, 
 
 Hang drooping o'er the glassy-bosom'd wave. 
 
 BID LAKE. 
 
 THE Willows are chiefly natives of the colder parts 
 of the temperate regions of the northern hemi- 
 sphere. More than two hundred species of this 
 
 * Generic characters. Catkins oblong, imbricated all round, 
 with oblong scales. Perianth none. Stamens 1-5. Fruit a 1- 
 celled follicle with 1-2 glands at its base.
 
 258 WILLOW. 
 
 genus have been described by botanists, of which 
 sixty-six are considered indigenous in this country. 
 These are subdivided into scientific and economic 
 groups. The economic groups are: for growing 
 as timber-trees, for coppice wood, for hoops, for 
 basket-rods, for hedges, and for ornamental trees 
 or shrubs. 
 
 The Babylonian or Weeping Willow, 8. Bdbylonica, 
 the portrait of which heads this article, is the most 
 picturesque and beautiful tree of this genus. It 
 is a native of Asia, on the banks of the Euphrates, 
 near Babylon, whence its name ; and also of China, 
 and other parts of Asia ; and of Egypt, and other 
 parts of the north of Africa. It is said to have 
 been introduced into England by the poet Pope, 
 who planted it in his garden at Twickenham, where 
 it was known until about 1800 as "Pope's Willow ;" 
 but it was more probably brought to Europe by 
 the botanist Tournefort, before 1700. Of the 
 Weeping Willow, Miller says, " It grows to a con- 
 siderable size. I have one in my view whilst I am 
 writing, which is four and a half feet in circumfer- 
 ence at three feet above the ground, and is at least 
 thirty feet in height ; the age is thirty-four years. 
 This tree is remarkable, and generally esteemed for 
 its long slender pendulous branches, which give it 
 a peculiar character, and render it a beautiful ob- 
 ject on the margin of streams or pools. The leaves 
 are minutely and sharply serrate, smooth on both 
 sides, glaucous underneath, with the midrib whit- 
 ish ; on short petioles. Stipules, when present, 
 roundish or semilunar, and very small ; but more
 
 WILLOW. 259 
 
 frequently wanting, and then in their stead a glan- 
 dular dot on each side. Catkins axillary, small, 
 oblong ; in the barren the filaments longer than the 
 scale, with two ovate erect glands fastened to the 
 base ; the fertile on two-leafed peduncles, scarcely 
 longer than half an inch." 
 
 The light airy spray of the Weeping Willow is 
 pendent. The shape of its leaf is conformable to 
 the pensile character of the tree ; and its spray, 
 which is lighter than that of the poplar, is more 
 easily put into motion by a breath of air. The 
 Weeping Willow, however, is not adapted to sub- 
 lime subjects ; but the associations which are 
 awakened in conjunction with it, by that very 
 beautiful psalm, " By the waters of Babylon we 
 sat down and wept, when we remembered thee, 
 Sion ! as for our harps, we hanged them up upon 
 the Willows," are of themselves sufficient to im- 
 part to it an interest in every human breast touched 
 by the sublime strains of the Psalmist. 
 
 On the Willow thy harp is suspended, 
 
 O Salem ! its sound shall be free ; 
 
 And the hour when thy glories were ended, 
 
 But left me that token of thee. 
 
 And ne'er shall its soft notes be blended, 
 
 With the voice of the spoiler by me. 
 
 BTBON. 
 
 Gilpin says we do not employ the Willow to screen 
 the broken buttresses and Gothic windows of an 
 abbey, nor to overshadow the battlements .of a 
 ruined castle. These offices it resigns to the oak, 
 whose dignity can support them. The Weeping 
 Willow seeks a humbler scene some romantic foot-
 
 260 WILLOW. 
 
 path bridge, which it half conceals, or some glassy 
 pool, over which it hangs its streaming foliage, 
 
 and dips 
 Its pendent boughs, stooping, as if to drink. 
 
 In these situations it appears in character, and to 
 advantage. 
 
 No poet ever mentions the Weeping Willow but 
 in connection with sad and melancholy thoughts. 
 Burns, in his "Braes of Yarrow," thus sings : 
 
 Take off, take off these bridal weeds, 
 And crown my careful head with Willow. 
 
 Prior alludes to the afflicted daughters of Israel : 
 
 Afflicted Israel shall sit weeping down, 
 
 Their harps upon the neighbouring Willows hung. 
 
 And Dr. Booker refers to the same pathetic scene: 
 
 Silent their harps (each cord unstrung) 
 On pendent Willow branches hung. 
 
 The Willow is generally found growing on the 
 borders of small streams or rivers. The Sacred 
 writers almost constantly refer to this natural 
 habit. Thus in Job we read : 
 
 The shady trees cover him with their shadows ; the Willows 
 of the brook compass him about (xl. 22). 
 
 And again, Isaiah, in two places, speaks of its con. 
 nection with the brook : 
 
 That which they have laid up, shall they carry away to the 
 brook of the Willows (xv. 7). 
 
 They shall spring up as among the grass, as Willows by the 
 water-courses (xliv. 4).
 
 WILLOW. 261 
 
 And Ezekiel refers to this habit of the Willow : 
 
 He took also of the seed of the land, and placed it by great 
 waters, and set it as a Willow-tree (xvii. 5). 
 
 And in referring to profane authors, we find Mil- 
 ton speaking of 
 
 the rushy-fringed bank 
 Where grows the Willow. 
 
 An anonymous writer, too, mentions 
 
 The thirsty Salix bending o'er the stream, 
 Its boughs as banners waving to the breeze. 
 
 The pastoral poet Rowe places his despairing Shep- 
 herd under Silken Willows. Thus he sings (we 
 will give the chorus in the first verse, and not re- 
 peat it, as it would occupy too much space) : 
 
 To the brook and the Willow that heard him complain, 
 
 Ah, Willow, Willow; 
 Poor Colin sat weeping, and told them his pain ; 
 
 Ah, Willow, Willow; ah, Willow, Willow. 
 
 Sweet stream, he cry'd sadly, 111 teach thee to flow, 
 And the waters shall rise to the brink with my woe. 
 
 All restless and painful poor Amoret lies, 
 And counts the sad moments of time as it flies. 
 
 To the nymph my heart loves, ye soft slumbers repair, 
 Spread your downy wings o'er her, and make her your care. 
 
 Dear brook, were thy chance near her pillow to creep, 
 Perhaps thy soft murmurs might lull her to sleep. 
 
 Let me be kept waking, my eyes never close, 
 
 So the sleep that I lose brings my fair one repose. 
 
 But if I am doom'd to be wretched indeed ; 
 If the loss of my dear-one, my love is decreed ;
 
 262 WILLOW. 
 
 If no more my sad heart by those eyes shall be cheered ; 
 If the voice of my warbler no more shall be heard ; 
 
 Believe me, thou fair-one ; thou dear-one believe, 
 Few sighs to thy loss, and few tears will I give. 
 
 One fate to thy Colin and thee shall be ty'd, 
 And soon lay thy shepherd close by thy cold side. 
 
 Then run, gentle brook ; and to lose thyself, haste ; 
 Fade thou, too, my Willow; this verse is my last. 
 
 Chatterton, in one of his songs, has the following 
 lines : 
 
 Mie love ys dedde, 
 Gon to ys deathe-bedde, 
 Al under the Wyllowe-tree. 
 
 In Ovid we read of 
 
 A hollow vale, where watery torrents gush, 
 Sinks in the plain ; the osier, and the rush, 
 The marshy sedge and bending "Willow nod 
 Their trailing foliage o'er its oozy sod. 
 
 And Churchill speaks of 
 
 The Willow weeping o'er the fatal wave, 
 Where many a lover finds a watery grave. 
 
 Shakspeare introduces it in Hamlet, where he de- 
 scribes the place of Ophelia's death : 
 
 There is a Willow grows ascant the brook, 
 
 That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream ; 
 
 There with fantastic garlands did she make, 
 
 Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, 
 
 That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, 
 
 But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them : 
 
 There on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds 
 
 Clambering to hang, an envious silver broke ; 
 
 When down her weedy trophies and herself 
 
 Fell in the weeping brook.
 
 "WILLOW. 
 
 263 
 
 The Willows that attain the size of trees of the 
 first and second rank, and that produce valuable 
 timber, are the four following : The Crack Willow, 
 the Russell Willow, the Huntingdon Willow, and 
 the Goat Willow. 
 
 The Crack or Red- wood Willow, 8. fragilis, is a 
 
 Leaves and Catkins of 5. fragilis.
 
 264 WILLOW. 
 
 tall bushy tree, sometimes growing from eighty to 
 ninety feet in height, with the branches set on 
 obliquely, somewhat crossing each other, not con- 
 tinued in a straight line outwards from the trunk ; 
 by which character it may be readily distinguished 
 even in winter. The branches are round, very 
 smooth, " and so brittle at the base, in spring, that 
 with the slightest blow they start from the trunk," 
 whence the name of Crack Willow. Its leaves 
 are ovate-lanceolate, pointed, serrated throughout, 
 very glabrous. Foot-stalks glandular, ovary ovate, 
 abrupt, nearly sessile, glabrous. Bracts oblong, 
 about equal to the stamens and pistils. Stigmas 
 cloven, longer than the style. 
 
 The Russell or Bedford Willow, S. Russelliana, 
 is frequently found from eighty to ninety feet in 
 height. It is more handsome than S. fragilis in its 
 mode of growth, as well as altogether of a lighter 
 or brighter hue. The branches are long, straight, 
 and slender, not angular in their insertion, like 
 those of S. fragilis. The leaves are lanceolate, 
 tapering at each end, serrated throughout, and very 
 glabrous. Foot-stalks, glandular or leafy. Ovary 
 tapering ; stalked, longer than the bracts. Style 
 as long as the stigma. Dr. Johnson's favourite 
 Willow, at Lichfield, was of this species. In 1781, 
 the trunk of this tree rose to the height of nearly 
 nine feet, and then divided into fifteen large ascend- 
 ing branches, which, in any numerous and crowded 
 subdivisions, spread at the top in a circular form, 
 not unlike the appearance of a shady oak, inclining 
 a little towards the east. The circumference of the
 
 WILLOW. 265 
 
 trunk at the bottom was nearly sixteen feet ; in the 
 middle about twelve feet ; and thirteen feet at the 
 top, immediately below the branches. The entire 
 height of the tree was forty-nine feet ; and the 
 circumference of the branches, at their extremities, 
 upwards of two hundred feet, overshadowing a plane 
 not far short of four thousand feet. This species 
 was first brought into notice for its valuable pro- 
 perties ^,s a timber- tree, by the late Duke of Bed- 
 ford ; whence its name. 
 
 The Huntingdon, or Common White Willow, 
 S. alba, grows rapidly, attaining the height of 
 thirty feet in twelve years, and rising to sixty feet 
 in height, or upwards, even in inferior soils ; while, 
 in favourable situations, it will reach the height 
 of eighty feet, or upwards. " The bark is thick 
 and full of cracks. The branches are numerous, 
 spreading widely, silky when young. The leaves 
 are all alternate, on shortish foot-stalks, lanceolate, 
 broadest a little above the middle, pointed, tapering 
 towards each end, regularly and acutely serrated, 
 the lowest serrature most glandular ; both sides of 
 a grayish, somewhat glaucous, green, beautifully 
 silky, with close-pressed silvery hairs, very dense 
 and brilliant on the uppermost, or youngest leaves ; 
 the lowermost on each branch, like the bracts, are 
 smaller, more obtuse, and greener. Stipules vari- 
 able, either roundish or oblong, small, often want- 
 ing. Catkins on short stalks, with three or four 
 spreading bracts, for the most part coming from 
 the leaves, but a few more often appear after mid- 
 summer ; they are all cylindrical, rather slender,
 
 266 WILLOW. 
 
 obtuse, near one and a half inch long. Scales 
 fringed, rounded at the end ; those of the barren 
 catkins narrower towards the base ; of the fertile, 
 dilated and convolute in that part. Two obtuse 
 glands, one before, the other behind the stamens. 
 Filaments hairy in their lower part. Anthers 
 roundish, yellow. Ovary very nearly sessile, green, 
 smooth, ovate, lanceolate, bluntish, longer than 
 the scale. Style short. Stigmas short, thickish, 
 cloven. Capsule ovate, brown, smooth, rather small." 
 The Goat Willow, Large-leafed Sallow, or Saugh, 
 JS. caprea, is distinguished from all the other Wil- 
 lows by its large ovate, or sometimes orbicular 
 ovate leaves, which are pointed, serrated, and 
 waved on the margin ; beneath they are of a pale 
 glaucous colour, and clothed with down, but dark 
 green above ; varying in length from two to three 
 inches. Foot-stalks stout, downy. Stipules cres- 
 cent-shaped. Capsules lanceolate, swelling. Style 
 very short. Buds glabrous. Catkins very thick, 
 oval, numerous, nearly sessile, expanding much 
 earlier than the foliage. The ovary is stalked, 
 silky, and ovate in form ; the stigmas are undivided, 
 and nearly sessile. In favourable situations this 
 tree attains a height of from thirty to forty feet, 
 with a trunk from one to two feet in diameter. It 
 seldom, however, possesses any considerable length 
 of clean stem, as the branches which form the 
 head generally begin to divide at a moderate 
 height, and diverging in different directions, give 
 it the bearing and appearance of a compact, round- 
 headed tree. It grows in almost all soils and situa-
 
 WILLOW. 267 
 
 tions, but prefers dry loams, and in such attains 
 its greatest size. 
 
 There are very few existing Willow-trees re- 
 markable for age or size. The one most worthy 
 of note is the Abbot's Willow, at Bury St. Edmunds. 
 It grows on the banks of the Lark, a small river 
 running through the park of John Benjafield, Esq. 
 It is seventy-five feet in height, and the stem is 
 eighteen feet and a half in girth ; it then divides 
 in a very picturesque manner into two large limbs, 
 one fifteen and the other twelve feet in girth. It 
 shadows an area of ground two hundred and four 
 feet in diameter, and the tree contains four hun- 
 dred and forty feet of solid timber. 
 
 The uses of the Willow are perhaps equal to 
 those of any other species of our native trees ; it is 
 remarked that it supports the banks of rivers, dries 
 marshy soil, supplies bands or withies, feeds a great 
 variety of insects, rejoices bees, yields abundance 
 of fine wood, affords nourishment to cattle with its 
 leaves, and yields a substitute for Jesuit's bark ; to 
 which Evelyn adds, all kinds of basket work, pill- 
 boxes, cart saddle-trees, gun-stocks, and half-pikes, 
 harrows, shoemakers' lasts, forks, rakes, ladders, 
 poles for hop vines, small casks and vessels, espe- 
 cially to preserve verjuice in. To which may be 
 added cricket-bats, and numerous other articles 
 where lightness and toughness of wood are desir- 
 able. The wood of the Willow has also the pro- 
 perty of whetting knives like a whetstone ; there- 
 fore all knife-boards should be made of this tree in 
 preference to any other.
 
 268 -WILLOW. 
 
 From the earliest times, the various species of 
 Willow have been made use of by man for forming 
 articles of utility ; but as an account of our prin- 
 cipal forest trees is the object of this work, it would 
 be out of place to describe those species which 
 are cultivated for coppice wood, hoops, basket- 
 rods, or hedges. We may, however, remark that 
 the shields of the ancients were made of wicker 
 work, covered with ox-hides ; that the ancient 
 Britons served up their meats in osier baskets or 
 dishes, and that these articles were greatly admired 
 by the Romans. 
 
 A basket I by painted Britons wrought, 
 And now to Rome's imperial city brought. 
 
 And for want of proper tools for sawing trees into 
 planks, the Britons and other savages made boats 
 of osiers covered with skins, in which they braved 
 the ocean in quest of plunder : 
 
 The bending Willow into barks they twined, 
 
 Then lined the work with spoils of slaughtered kind ; 
 
 Such are the floats Venetian fishers know, 
 
 Where in dull marshes stands the settling Po, 
 
 On such to neighbouring Gaul, allured by gain, 
 
 The bolder Briton crossed the swelling main. 
 
 ROWE'S Lucan.
 
 THE YEW-TREE. 
 [Taxus* baccata. Nat. Ord. Taxacece; Linn. Dicec. Monad.~\ 
 
 THE Berried or Common Yew is indigenous to 
 most parts of Europe, from 58 N. lat. to the 
 Mediterranean Sea ; also to the east and west of 
 Asia ; and of North America. It is found in 
 every part of Britain, and also in Ireland : on 
 limestone cliffs, and in mountainous woods, in the 
 south of England ; on schistose, basaltic, and 
 
 * Generic characters. 'Barren flowers in oval catkins, with 
 crowded, peltate scales, bearing 3 to 8 anther-cells. Stamens 
 numerous. Style 1. Anthers peltate, with several lobes. Fertile 
 flowers scaly below. Ovule surrounded at the base by a ring, 
 which becomes a fleshy cup-shaped disk surrounding the seed.
 
 270 TEW. 
 
 other rocks, in the north of England : and in 
 Scotland, it is particularly abundant on the north 
 side of the mountains near Loch Lomond. In 
 Ireland, it grows in the crevices of rocks, at an 
 elevation of 1200 feet above the level of the sea ; 
 but at that height it assumes the appearance of a 
 low shrub. The Yew is rather a solitary than a 
 social tree ; being generally found either alone or 
 with trees of a different species. 
 
 The Yew-tree rises from the ground with a 
 short but straight trunk, which sends out, at the 
 height of three or four feet, numerous branches, 
 spreading out nearly horizontally, and forms a 
 head of dense foliage. When full grown it attains 
 the height of from thirty to fifty feet. The trunk 
 and bark are channelled longitudinally, and are 
 generally rough, from the protruding remains of 
 shoots which have decayed and dropped off. The 
 bark is smooth, thin, of a brown colour, and scales 
 off like the pine. The branches are thickly clad 
 with leaves, which are two-rowed, crowded, naked, 
 linear, entire, very slightly revolute, and about 
 one inch long ; very dark green, smooth, and 
 shining above ; paler, with a prominent midrib, 
 beneath ; terminating in a point. The flowers, 
 which appear in May, are solitary, proceeding 
 from a scaly axillary bud ; those of the barren 
 plant are pale brown, and discharge a very abun- 
 dant yellowish white pollen. The fertile flowers 
 are green, and in form not unlike a young acorn. 
 Fruit drooping, consisting of a sweet, internally 
 glutinous, scarlet berry, open at the top, inclosing
 
 YEW. 271 
 
 a brown oval nut, unconnected with the fleshy 
 part. The kernels of these nuts are not deleteri- 
 ous, as supposed by many, but may be eaten, and 
 they possess a sweet and agreeable nutty flavour. 
 Of all trees the Yew is the most tonsile. Hence 
 
 Foliage, Leaves, and Fruit of T. baccata.
 
 272 YEW. 
 
 all the indignities it formerly suffered. Everywhere 
 it was cut and metamorphosed into such a variety 
 of deformities, that we could hardly conceive that 
 it had any natural shape, or the power which other 
 trees possess, of hanging carelessly and negligently. 
 Yet it has this power in a very eminent degree ; 
 and in a state of nature, except in exposed situa- 
 tions, is perhaps one of the most beautiful ever- 
 greens we have. It is now, however, seldom found 
 in a state of perfection. Not ranking among tim- 
 ber-trees, it is thus in a degree unprivileged, and 
 unprotected by forest laws, and has often been 
 made booty of by those who durst not lay violent 
 hands on the oak or the ash. But still, in many 
 parts of the New Forest, some noble specimens of 
 it are left. There is one which was esteemed by 
 Gilpin to be a tree of peculiar beauty. It imme- 
 diately divides into several massy limbs, each of 
 which, hanging in grand loose foliage, spreads 
 over a large compass of ground, and yet the whole 
 tree forms a close compact body; that is, its boughs 
 are not so separated as to break into distinct parts. 
 It is not equal in size to the Yew at Fotheringal, 
 near Taymouth, in Scotland, which measures fifty- 
 six and a half feet in circumference, nor to many 
 others on record ; but is of sufficient size for all 
 the purposes of landscape, and is in point of pic- 
 turesque beauty probably equal to any of them. 
 It stands near the left bank of Lymington river, 
 as you look towards the sea, between Roydon 
 Farm and Boldre Church. 
 
 So long as the taste prevailed for metamorphos-
 
 YEW. 273 
 
 ing the Yew into obelisks, pyramids, birds, and 
 beasts, it was very commonly planted near houses. 
 Now it is nearly banished from the precincts of 
 our residences and pleasure grounds ; not, it would 
 appear, from any real objection that can be urged 
 either against its form or the effect it produces, 
 but from now considering it as a funereal tree, and 
 associating it with scenes of melancholy and the 
 grave, a feeling doubtless arising from many of our 
 most venerable and celebrated specimens growing 
 in ancient church-yards. The origin of these 
 locations is now considered to have arisen from 
 churches having been erected on the sites of 
 Druidical places of worship in Yew groves, or near 
 old Yew-trees. Hence the planting of Yews in 
 church-yards is a custom of heathen origin, which 
 was ingrafted on Christianity on its introduction 
 into Britain. 
 
 The sepulchral character of the Yew is thus re- 
 ferred to by Sir Walter Scott, in Rokeby : 
 
 But here 'twixt rock and river grew 
 
 A dismal grove of sable Yew. 
 
 With whose sad tints were mingled seen 
 
 The blighted fir's sepulchral green. 
 
 Seemed that the trees their shadows cast, 
 
 The earth that nourished them to blast ; 
 
 For never knew that swathy grove 
 
 The verdant hue that fairies love, 
 
 Nor wilding green, nor woodland flower, 
 
 Arose within its baleful bower. 
 
 The dank and sable earth receives 
 
 Its only carpet from the leaves, 
 
 That, from the withering branches cast, 
 
 Bestrewed the ground with every blast.
 
 274 YEW. 
 
 And Kirke White, in a fragment written in Wil- 
 ford church-yard, near Nottingham, on occasion of 
 his recovering from sickness, thus introduces it: 
 
 Here would I wish to sleep. This is the spot 
 "Which I have long marked out to lay my bones in ; 
 Tired out and wearied with the riotous world, 
 Beneath this Yew I would be sepulchred. 
 
 While in that beautiful and pathetic Elegy of Gray's, 
 which is familiar to every mind in Britain, we 
 read : 
 
 Beneath that Yew-tree's shade, 
 
 Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, 
 
 Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, 
 The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 
 
 Poor Carrington has the following lines on the 
 Yew-tree, in a poem entitled My Native Village. 
 The author is buried in the little quiet church-yard 
 of Combehay, a sequestered village at a short dis- 
 tance from Bath. It is situated in a deep and 
 unfrequented valley, where some of the finest and 
 most luxuriant scenery in the west of England 
 may be found. It was chosen, his son tells us, 
 because it is a spot which, when living, he would 
 have loved full well : 
 
 Tree of the days of old time-honour'd Yew ! 
 Pride of my boyhood manhood age, Adieu! 
 Broad was thy shadow, mighty one, but now 
 Sits desolation on thy leafless bough ! 
 That huge and far-fam'd trunk, scoop'd out by age, 
 Will break, full soon, beneath the tempest's rage : 
 Few are the leaves lone sprinkled o'er thy breast, 
 There's bleakness, blackness on thy shiver'd crest !
 
 YEW. 275 
 
 When Spring shall vivify again the earth, 
 
 And yon blest vale shall ring with woodland mirth, 
 
 Morning, noon, eve, no bird with wanton glee 
 
 Shall pour anew his poetry from thee ; 
 
 For thou hast lost thy greenness, and he loves 
 
 The verdure and companionship of groves 
 
 Sings where the song is loudest, and the spray, 
 
 Fresh, fair, and youthful, dances in the ray ! 
 
 Nor shall returning Spring, o'er storms and strife 
 
 Victorious, e'er recal thee into life ! 
 
 Yet stand thou there majestic to the last, 
 
 And stoop with grandeur to the conquering blast. 
 
 Aye, stand thou there for great in thy decay, 
 
 Thou wondrous remnant of a far-gone day, 
 
 Thy name, thy might, shall wake in rural song, 
 
 Bless'd by the old respected by the young ; 
 
 "While all unknown, uncar'd for, oak on oak 
 
 Of yon tall grove shall feel the woodman's stroke ; 
 
 One common, early fate awaits them all, 
 
 No sympathizing eye shall mark then- fall ; 
 
 And beautiful in ruin as they lie, 
 
 For them shall not be heard one rustic sigh ! 
 
 Since the use of the bow has been superseded 
 by more deadly instruments of warfare, the cultiva- 
 tion of the Yew is now less common. This, says 
 Evelyn, is to be deplored ; for the barrenest ground 
 and coldest of our mountains might be profitably 
 replenished with them. However, in winter, we 
 may still see some of the higher hills in Surrey 
 clad with entire woods of Yew and cypress, for 
 miles around, as we stand on Box Hill ; and might, 
 without any violence to the ordinary powers of 
 imagination, fancy ourselves transported into a 
 new or enchanted country. Indeed, Evelyn re- 
 marked, in his day, that if in any spot in England, 
 
 'tis here 
 Eternal spring and summer all the year.
 
 276 YEW. 
 
 Our venerable author records a Yew tree, ten yards 
 in girth, which grew in the church-yard of Crow- 
 hurst, in the county of Surrey. And another stand- 
 ing in Braburne church-yard, near Scot's Hall, 
 Kent ; which being fifty-eight feet eleven inches 
 in circumference, would be near 20 feet in diameter. 
 
 There are several remarkable existing church- 
 yard Yews in this country. The tallest, which is 
 at Harlington, near Hounslow, is fifty -six feet 
 in height; another at Martley, Worcestershire, is 
 about twelve yards in circumference; and at Ashill, 
 Somersetshire, there are two very large trees 
 one fifteen feet round, extending its branches 
 north and south fifty-six feet; the other dividing 
 into three large trunks a little above the ground, 
 but having many of its branches decayed. There are 
 also eleven Yew-trees in the church-yard of Aberyst- 
 with, the largest being twenty-four feet, and the 
 smallest eleven feet six inches, in circumference. 
 
 There is also a group of Yews at Fountain's 
 Abbey worthy of remark on their own account, 
 and they are also interesting in a historical view. 
 Burton gives the following notice of them : " At 
 Christmas the Archbishop, being at Ripon (anno 
 1132), assigned to the monks some lands in the 
 patrimony of St. Peter, about three miles west of 
 that place, for the erecting of a monastery. The 
 spot of ground had never been inhabited, unless 
 by wild beasts, being overgrown with wood and 
 brambles, lying between two steep hills and rocks, 
 covered with wood on all sides, more proper for a 
 retreat for wild beasts than the human species.
 
 YEW. 277 
 
 This was called Skeldale, or the vale of the Skell, 
 a rivulet running through it from the west to the 
 eastward part of it. The Archbishop also gave to 
 them a neighbouring village, called Sutton Richard. 
 The prior of St. Mary's, at York, was chosen abbot 
 by the monks, being the first of this monastery of 
 Fountain's, with whom they withdrew into this un- 
 couth desert, without any house to shelter them in 
 the winter season, or provisions to subsist on ; but 
 entirely depending on Divine Providence. There 
 stood a large elm in the midst of the vale, on which 
 they put some thatch or straw, and under that they 
 lay, eat, and prayed, the bishop for a time supply- 
 ing them with bread, and the rivulet with drink. 
 Part of the day some spent in making wattles, to 
 erect a little oratory, whilst others cleared some 
 ground, to make a little garden. But it is sup- 
 posed that they soon changed the shelter of the elm 
 for that of seven Yew-trees, growing on the decli- 
 vity of the hill, on the south side of the Abbey, all 
 standing at this present time, except the largest, 
 which was blown down about the middle of the last 
 century. They are of extraordinary size; the 
 trunk of one of them is twenty-six feet six inches 
 in circumference, at the height of three feet from 
 the ground ; and they stand so near each other, as 
 to form a cover almost equal to a thatched roof. 
 Under these trees, we are told by tradition, the 
 monks resided till they built the monastery, which 
 seems to be very probable, when we consider how 
 little a Yew-tree increases in a year, and to what 
 a bulk these are grown. And as the hill-side was
 
 278 YEW. 
 
 covered with wood, which is now cut down, except 
 these trees, it seems as if they were left standing 
 to perpetuate the memory of the monks' habitation 
 there, during the first winter of their residence." 
 
 Wordsworth gives us the following animated de- 
 scription of a noted Yew in Lorton Vale ; and also 
 of four others the "fraternal four," growing in 
 Borrowdale : 
 
 There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, 
 
 Which to this day stands single, in the midst 
 
 Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore, 
 
 Nor loth to furnish weapons for the bands 
 
 Of Omfraville or Percy, ere they marched 
 
 To Scotland's heath ; or those that crossed the sea, 
 
 And drew their sounding bows at Agincourt, 
 
 Perhaps at earlier Crecy, or Poictiers. 
 
 Of vast circumference and gloom profound 
 
 This solitary tree ! a living thing 
 
 Produced too slowly ever to decay ; 
 
 Of form and aspect too magnificent 
 
 To be destroyed. But worthier still of note 
 
 Are these fraternal four of Borrowdale, 
 
 Joined in one solemn and capacious grove ; 
 
 Huge trunks 1 and each particular trunk a growth 
 
 Of intertwisted fibres serpentine 
 
 Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved, 
 
 Nor uninformed with phantasy, and looks 
 
 That threaten the profane ; a pillared shade 
 
 Upon whose grassless floor of red-brown hue, 
 
 By sheddings from the pining umbrage tinged 
 
 Perennially beneath whose sable roof 
 
 Of boughs, as if for festal purpose, decked 
 
 With unrejoicing berries, ghostly shapes 
 
 May meet at moontide Fear and trembling Hope, 
 
 Silence and Foresight Death the Skeleton, 
 
 And Tune the Shadow, there to celebrate, 
 
 As in a natural temple scattered o'er 
 
 With altars undisturbed of mossy stone; 
 
 United worship ; or in mute repose
 
 YEW. 279 
 
 To lie, and listen to the mountain flood 
 Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves. 
 
 The Yew is easily propagated by sowing the 
 berries as soon as they are ripe (without clearing 
 them from the surrounding pulp), upon a shady 
 bed of fresh soil, covering them over about half an 
 inch with the same earth. Many plants will 
 appear in spring, while others will remain in the 
 ground until autumn, or the spring following. 
 When the plants come up, they should be kept 
 free from weeds, or they will be choked and fre- 
 quently destroyed. The plants may remain in the 
 original bed two years, and then be removed early in 
 October into beds four or five feet wide, each plant 
 a foot apart from the next, and the same distance 
 in the rows ; taking care to lay a little muck over 
 the ground about their roots, and to water them in 
 dry weather. There the plants may remain two or 
 three years, according to their growth, when they 
 should be transplanted into nursery rows at three 
 feet distance, and eighteen inches asunder. This 
 operation must be performed in autumn. After re- 
 maining three or four years in the nursery, they 
 may be planted where they are to remain, observing 
 to remove them in autumn where the ground is 
 very dry, and in spring where it is cold and moist. 
 Whether as an evergreen undergrowth or as a 
 timber-tree, the Yew deserves to be more exten- 
 sively cultivated than heretofore. As an under- 
 wood, it is scarcely inferior to the holly, and only 
 so in failing to produce those sparkling effects of 
 light which distinguish the larger and more highly
 
 280 YEW. 
 
 glazed dark green foliage of that tree: in hardi- 
 hood it is its equal, and it bears, with the same 
 comparative impunity, the drip and shade of many 
 of our loftier deciduous trees, a quality of great im- 
 portance where an evergreen wood is desired. The 
 great value and durable properties of its wood 
 ought also to favour its introduction into our mixed 
 plantations, even where profit is the chief object in 
 view, the value of the wood well compensating for 
 the slowness of its growth. Besides, when fostered 
 by the shelter of surrounding trees, it would be 
 drawn up and grow much more rapidly, and with 
 a cleaner stem. 
 
 The Yew is not only celebrated for its toughness 
 and elasticity it is a common saying among the 
 inhabitants of the New Forest, that a post of Yew 
 will outlast a post of iron. The veins of its timber 
 exceed in beauty those of most other trees, and its 
 roots are not surpassed by the ancient citron. The 
 artists in box most gladly employ it ; and for the 
 cogs of mill wheels and axletrees, there is no wood 
 to be compared to it. 
 
 We extract the following table from the ancient 
 laws of Wales, showing the comparative worth of 
 a Yew with other trees : 
 
 A consecrated Yew, its value is a pound. 
 
 An oak, its value is six score pence. 
 
 A mistletoe branch, its value is three score pence. 
 
 Thirty pence is the value of every principal branch in the oak. 
 
 Three score pence is the value of every sweet apple -tree. 
 
 Thirty pence is the value of a sour apple-tree. 
 
 Fifteen pence is the value of a good Yew-tree. 
 
 Seven pence halfpenny is the value of a thorn-tree.
 
 FOEESTS AND WOODLANDS 
 
 GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND. 
 
 THE British isles, like other countries of Europe, were in former 
 times abundantly covered with forests. The first general attack 
 made upon these in England was in 1536, when Henry VIII. 
 confiscated the church lands, and distributed them, together with 
 their woods, among numerous grantees. But it was not until 
 between the civil war which broke out in 1642 and the restora- 
 tion in 1660, that the royal forests, as well as the woods of the 
 nobility and gentry, were materially diminished. During these 
 few years, however, many extensive forests so completely disap- 
 peared, that hardly any memorial was left of them but their 
 name. These two great territorial changes were followed by 
 increased social and national prosperity. Though we have now 
 hardly any forests or woodlands of considerable extent, there are 
 perhaps few countries over which timber is more equably distri- 
 buted, that is, in those counties where the soil and aspect are 
 favourable to its growth. Woods of small extent, coppices, 
 clumps, and clusters of trees are very generally distributed over 
 the face of the country, which, together with the timber scattered 
 in the hedge-rows, constitute a mass of wood of no inconsiderable 
 importance. 
 
 In Herefordshire, Warwickshire, Northamptonshire, and Staf- 
 fordshire is abundance of fine oak and elm woods. In Buck- 
 inghamshire there is much birch and oak, and also fine beech. 
 Sussex, once celebrated for the extent and quality of its oak 
 forests, has yet some good timber; at present its woodlands, 
 including coppice -wood, occupy 175,000 acres. Essex, with 
 50,000 acres of woodland, has some elms and oaks. Surrey, 
 Hertfordshire, and Derbyshire abound in coppice-woods. In 
 Worcestershire is abundance of oak and elm. In Oxfordshire 
 there are the forests of Wychwood and Stokenchurch, chiefly of 
 beech, with some oak, ash, birch, and aspen. Berkshire con- 
 x
 
 282 FORESTS AND WOODLANDS. 
 
 tains a part of Windsor forest ; and Gloucestershire, the Forest 
 of Dean ; so that these three last counties are extensively wooded 
 and with noble trees. Cheshire has few woods of any extent, 
 but the hedge-row timber and coppices are in such abundance as 
 to give the whole country, especially when seen from an eleva- 
 tion, the appearance of a vast forest. Of the remaining counties 
 some have very little wood, and a few are altogether without it ; 
 but the want and value of timber have given rise to a great many 
 flourishing plantations. In Wales particularly, there is a rage 
 for planting. In South Wales alone six millions of trees, it is 
 said, are annually planted ; if that is the case, nine-tenths of the 
 number must come to nothing, or the whole country would be 
 one entire forest. 
 
 Scotland has few forests of large timber, if we except the 
 woods of Inverness-shire and Aberdeenshire. In the former of 
 these counties the natural pine-woods exceed the quantity of this 
 wood growing naturally in all the rest of Britain. In Strathspey 
 alone, there are 15,000 acres of natural firs ; and in other parts, 
 the woods are reckoned by miles, not by acres ; there are also 
 oak woods and extensive tracts of birch. In Aberdeenshire, in 
 the higher divisions of Mar, there are 100 square miles of wood 
 and plantations. The pines of Braemar are magnificent in size, 
 and are of the finest quality. Argyleshire, Dumbartonshire, and 
 Stirlingshire have many thousands of acres of coppice-wood, and, 
 with a very few exceptions, the remaining counties have many, 
 and some very extensive plantations. 
 
 Ireland has every appearance of having been once covered 
 with wood, but at the present day, timber is exceedingly scarce 
 in that country, there being no woods, if we except a portion 
 along the sea-coast of Wicklow, the borders of the Lake Gilly, in 
 Sligo, some remains of an ancient forest in Galway, and some 
 small woods round Lough Lene, in the county of Kerry. The 
 lakes of Westmeath have also some wooded islands. There are 
 extensive plantations in Waterford, and a few natural woods, of 
 small extent, in Cavan and Down ; but Fermanagh is the best- 
 wooded part of Ireland. The want of wood, however, in this 
 country, as far as it is employed for fuel, is little felt, in conse- 
 quence of its extensive bogs, which furnish an almost inexhaus- 
 tible quantity of peat. 
 
 Upon the whole then, though Great Britain and Ireland do 
 not now possess any extensive forests, still there is a considerable 
 quantity of timber, and the extent of new plantations seems to 
 promise that we shall never be wholly destitute of so essential an 
 article as wood. According to M'Culloch, there is annually cut 
 down in Great Britain and Ireland, timber to the amount of 
 2,000,000.
 
 FORESTS AND WOODLANDS. 283 
 
 In this country, even in the time of the Saxons, the forests or 
 tracts, more or less covered with wood, were generally public or 
 crown lands, in which the king was accustomed to take the diver- 
 sion of hunting, and that hunting from which all other persons were 
 prohibited. This distinctly appears from the laws of king Ca- 
 nute, enacted in 1016. But the prohibition against hunting in 
 these, was merely a protection thrown around the property of 
 the crown of the same kind with that afforded to all other landed 
 estates, in regard to which, universally, the law was, that every 
 proprietor might hunt in his own woods or fields, but that no 
 other person might do so without his leave. On the establish- 
 ment, however, of the Norman government, it has' generally been 
 supposed that the property of all the animals of chase throughout 
 the kingdom was held to be vested in the crown, and no person, 
 without the express licence of the crown, was allowed to hunt 
 even upon his own estate. But this, after all, is rather a con- 
 jecture ; and, perhaps, all that we are absolutely entitled to affirm, 
 from the evidence we possess on the subject, is, that after the 
 Norman conquest the royal forests were guarded with much 
 greater strictness than before ; that possibly in some cases their 
 bounds were enlarged ; that trespasses upon them were punished 
 with much greater severity ; and, finally, that there was established 
 a new system of laws and of courts for their administration. 
 
 In the language of the law, forests and chases differ from parks 
 in not being enclosed by walls or palings, but only encompassed 
 by metes and bounds ; and a chase differs from a forest, both in 
 being of much smaller extent (so that there are some chases 
 within forests) and in its capability of being held by a subject, 
 whereas a forest can only be in the hands of the Crown. But 
 the material distinction is, or rather was, that forests alone were 
 subject to the forest laws so long as they subsisted. Every 
 forest, however, was also a chase. A forest is defined by Man- 
 wood, the great authority on the forest laws, as being " a certain 
 territory or circuit of woody grounds and pastures, known in its 
 bounds, and privileged, for the peaceable being and abiding of 
 wild beasts, and fowls of forest, chase, and warren, to be under 
 the king's protection for his princely delight ; replenished with 
 beasts of venery or chase, and great coverts of vert for succour 
 of the said beasts ; for preservation whereof there are particular 
 laws, privileges, and officers belonging thereunto." The beasts 
 of park or chase, according to Coke, are properly the buck, the 
 doe, the fox, the marten, and the roe ; but the term, in a wider 
 sense, comprehends all the beasts of the forest. Beasts of warren 
 are such as hares, conies, and roes ; fowls of warren, such as the 
 partridge, quail, rail, pheasant, woodcock, mallard, heron, &c. 
 
 The national woodlands of England, for many centuries, con- 
 sisted of 49 forests, 13 chases, and 781 parks; some of them
 
 284 
 
 FORESTS AND WOODLANDS. 
 
 being of great extent, as the New Forest in Hampshire, which 
 still contains about 66,291 acres, and extends over a district of 
 20 miles from north-east to south-west, and about 15 miles from 
 east to west. Recent parliamentary inquiry has so fully estab- 
 lished long-continued mismanagement, embezzlement of timber, 
 and encroachments upon the national forests and parks, that a 
 considerable portion of what remains will probably be shortly 
 sold or leased for general cultivation. The principal remaining 
 national forests and parks are : 
 
 1. New Forest, Hampshire. 
 
 2. Dean Forest, Gloucestershire. 
 8. High Meadow Woods, do. 
 
 4. Alice Holt, Hampshire. 
 
 5. Woolmer Forest, do. 
 
 6. Parkhurst Forest, do. 
 
 7. Bere Forest, do. 
 
 8. Whittlebury Forest, Notts. 
 
 9. Salcey Forest, do. 
 
 10. Delamere Forest, Cheshire. 
 
 11. Wychwood Forest, Oxfordshire. 
 
 12. Waltham Forest, Essex. 
 
 13. Chopwell Woods, Durham. 
 
 14. The London Parks. 
 
 15. Greenwich Park. 
 
 16. Richmond Park. 
 
 17. Hampton and Bushy Parks. 
 
 18. Windsor Forest and Parks.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS INDEX. 
 
 The Names of the Trees described are given at page vii and viii. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Alder timber valuable for piles 45 
 
 Amazons, spears of the 49 
 
 Aspen described 204 
 
 Autumn, the Season of Landscape 16 
 
 Bees, their fondness for the Linden flower . . . 136 
 
 Birch wine 66 
 
 Blasted tree, its effect 22 
 
 Bryony berries, ornamental, in their various stages . 23 
 
 Cadenham Oak 172 
 
 Clump of trees 25 
 
 Consecrated Yew-trees, ancient value of . . . . 280 
 
 Copse, its use 29 
 
 Cowper's Address to the Yardley Oak . . . .181 
 
 Cowthorpe Oak, near Wetherby 180 
 
 Edlington 9 
 
 Elm-tree, anciently considered as a funeral tree . . 86 
 
 Ezekiel's (the Prophet) description of the Cedar-tree . 71 
 
 Forests and woodlands in the United Kingdom . . 281 
 
 Gilpin, grave of the Rev. W. 140 
 
 Glen, its character 32 
 
 God's First Temples, Bryant's 36 
 
 Gog and Magog 181 
 
 Grove, its character 33 
 
 Harefield Park in 1663, Silver Firs at .... 218 
 
 Hawthorn, Queen Mary's 94 
 
 Hern's Oak, Windsor Forest 177
 
 286 MISCELLANEOUS INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Holly-tree, supposed origin of the name .... 107 
 
 Persian tradition and custom connected with the 108 
 
 Honeysuckle, wild, its ornamental effect ... 23 
 
 Hop, its effect when supported by a tree .... 24 
 
 Hornbeam Maze, at Hampton Court .... 110 
 
 Horse-chestnuts, finest at Bushy Park .... 119 
 
 Inscription for the entrance into a wood, Bryant's . 40 
 
 Ivy on Trees 22 
 
 Larch-tree, durability of its timber .... 130 
 
 Leafing of Trees 13 
 
 Leonard, Legend of St 60 
 
 Lightness a characteristic of beauty in Trees ... 19 
 
 Lime-tree avenues 133 
 
 Lover's Tablet, the 56 
 
 Magdalen College, Oxford, founded near " the great Oak" 168 
 
 Maple-tree crusca and mollusca 142 
 
 the Sugar 143 
 
 Mole, the 42 
 
 Moss, its picturesque effect on the trunk of an aged Oak 21 
 
 Motion, a source of picturesque beauty .... 24 
 
 Mountain Ash, Supersititions connected with the . . 149 
 
 Mulberry- tree, Shakspere's 153 
 
 Norway Spruce Fir, the loftiest of European trees . . 223 
 
 Nutting, pleasures of 99 
 
 Oak-tree, the emblem of grandeur, strength, and duration 158 
 
 Ornamental appendages to Trees 22 
 
 Pine timber, character and value of .... 215 
 
 Poplar dedicated to Hercules 206 
 
 Pyramns and Thisbe, Fable of 155 
 
 Queen Mary's Thorn 94 
 
 Ravenna Pines at Hampstead, near London . . . 216 
 
 Reynolds, Tribute to Sir J 133 
 
 Rufus, tradition respecting the place of his death . . 170 
 
 Scotch Fir or Pine, durability of its timber . . . 215 
 
 Shire Oak, near Worksop 170 
 
 Swilcar Oak, in Needwood Forest 179
 
 MISCELLANEOUS INDEX. 287 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Sycamore, Wordsworth's allusion to the . . . 229 
 
 Tamer, the finest Chestnut trees on the . ... 80 
 
 Traveller's joy ornamental 23 
 
 Tree as a single object 18 
 
 Venice Turpentine, how obtained 127 
 
 Vernal Melody in the Forest 15 
 
 Vine-clad branches of Trees 23 
 
 Wallace's Oak ......... 176 
 
 "Walnut-tree, a miraculous 238 
 
 Water-pipes, Elm 89 
 
 Willow bark, a substitute for Jesuit's bark . . . 267 
 
 Woodlands and forests in the United Kingdom . . . 281 
 
 Yardley Oak 180 
 
 Yew-tree, Wordsworth's description of a noted . . . 278 
 
 Zoroaster, the Holly and the disciples of ... 108 
 
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