At Knole Park, in Kent, advantage has been taken of this spreading habit

to allow the formation of a very remarkable grove. The parent tree was

described by Loudon as covering a quarter of an acre in 1820; the boughs

have drooped so as to root themselves, and have risen again, forming

trees 80 and 90 feet high, which in their turn have repeated the

process, forming a second circle of trees 20 to 40 feet high, and these

again are engaged in forming a third concentric circle, the total

diameter of the grove, all connected with the central stem, being 36

yards. The great lime at Gordon Castle, known as the Duchess's Tree, has

behaved in a similar way; but, as the supplementary growths have not

been trained into trees as at Knole, the whole forms a dense thicket,

impenetrable save where a passage has been kept clear to the interior. A

tree of this description covers almost enough ground, if not for a small

holding, at least for an allotment, for the total circumference of this

mass of branches is 480 feet or 160 yards.

It is as an avenue tree that the lime is seen at its best, disputing

pre-eminence for that purpose with the beech. Moreover, although the

beech must be accounted the more beautiful tree, its rival has advantage

over it in the delicious fragrance of its blossom, which is produced in

great profusion, powerfully attractive to bees. Strange to say, although

the fragrant flowers are of a pale yellowish, greenish white, the honey

extracted from them is deep brown, darker than heather honey, and of

inferior flavour.

Fine avenues of limes are innumerable in Britain, many of them being

over 200 years old. At Newhouse Park, Devon, Mr. Elwes describes a

remarkable one, which was planted about 200 years ago as an approach to

a house which never was built. The rows are only 20 feet apart, and the

trees, which are only 10 feet apart in the rows, have risen to an

immense height, averaging over 120 feet.

Among other notable lime avenues may be noted those at Stratton Park,

Hants (Lord Northbrook's); Cassiobury, Herts (Lord Essex's), said to

have been planted by Le Notre, the designer of the gardens at

Versailles; at Braxted Park, Essex (Mr. Du Cane's), composed of three

rows on each side; at Wollaton Hall, Notts, and Birdsall, Yorks (both

places belonging to Lord Middleton). In all these avenues the trees

range from 120 to 130 feet high; but none can compete in length with an

avenue planted at Clumber by the Duke of Newcastle in 1840, which is

only 200 yards short of two miles long. Unfortunately, these trees were

planted far too wide apart in the rows, 31 feet from tree to tree, and,

having been afterwards neglected in the matter of training, have

squandered their luxuriance in bushy growth. To form a fine avenue

timely pruning is indispensable.

The lime, being more tolerant than the beech of drought, parching heat

and a smoky atmosphere, thrives vigorously in towns of moderate size,

and also in large cities where the chief fuel is not coal. The

well-known thoroughfare, Unter-den-Linden, in Berlin, corresponds to the

Mall in London. I have not identified the species with which it is

planted; certainly of late years they have been planting in Berlin a

natural hybrid known as the smooth-leaved lime (_T. euchlora_), which

has the merit of keeping its glossy foliage later in autumn than the

common lime. The trees in Unter-den-Linden are remarkable neither for

size nor vigour, but they provide grateful shade and verdure in summer.

[Illustration: WEEPING WHITE LIME (_Tilia petiolaris_)

AT WAKEHURST PLACE]

The atmosphere of Berlin is certainly not so hurtful to tree growth as

that of London, where poplars, planes, ailanthus, and acacia (_Robinia_)

are practically the only forest trees that can do battle successfully

with the parching heat and stifling fogs of that city; conditions which

the limes that used to stand in the Mall resented by casting their

foliage in disgust before August was sped. The limes in the Cathedral

close of Winchester afford an example of felicitous association of

foliage with noble architecture. Perhaps there is a remembrance of them

in Tennyson's _Gardeners' Daughter_:--

Over many a range

Of waning lime the gray cathedral towers,

Across a hazy glimmer of the west,

Reveal'd their shining windows.

The smooth white timber of lime was once in much more request than it is

now. Pliny praises it as worm-proof and useful, describing how the inner

bark was woven into ropes, as it now is into bast for the mats with

which gardeners protect their frames from frost. These mats are chiefly

made in and exported from Russia. Lime timber, being less liable to

split than other woods, was the favourite material for wood-carving;

indeed, Evelyn writes of it as being used exclusively in their work:--

"Because of its colour and easy working, and that it is not subject

to split, architects make with it models for their designed

buildings; and the carvers in wood use it, not only for small

figures, but for large statues and entire histories in bass and

high relieve; witness, beside several more, the festoons,

fruitages, and other sculptures of admirable invention and

performance to be seen about the choir of St. Paul's and other

churches, Royal Palaces, and noble houses in city and country; all

of them the works and invention of our Lysippus, Mr. [Grinling]

Gibbons, comparable, and for aught appears equal, to anything of

the antients. Having had the honour (for so I account it) to be the

first who recommended this great artist to His Majesty Charles II.,

I mention it on this occasion with much satisfaction."

It is owing to the neglect of British planters and the consequent

irregularity of the home timber trade that this fine timber has been

ousted from its former pre-eminence by imports of other kinds.

In writing of the common lime, I have used the scientific name, _Tilia

europæa_ as conferred on it by Linnæus, rather than the more recent

title of _T. vulgaris_. There seems a special reason for retaining the

old name, inasmuch as Linnæus considered his own family name was derived

from the linden tree.

[Illustration: ENGLISH ELM (_Ulmus campestris_)]

The Elms

It is a matter of doubtful argument how many species go to compose the

genus Elm--_Ulmus_--owing to the uncertainty of distinguishing true

permanent species from varieties and natural hybrids. Foremost botanists

have differed widely on the question; for whereas Bentham and Hooker

recognised in 1887 only two true species growing naturally in the United

Kingdom, Elwes and Henry describe five native species, besides nine

varieties of the wych elm, as many of the English elm, and no fewer than

thirteen varieties of _Ulmus nitens_, a species hitherto classed as a

form of the English elm.

The distribution of the elm family is somewhat peculiar, extending all

the way from Japan, through Northern China and Europe to North America,

but not crossing to the Western States; nor is any species to be found

south of the temperate zone, except in the mountain ranges of Southern

Mexico. Of all the cities of the New World, Boston reminds the British

traveller more vividly of home scenes than any other, by reason of the

massive English elms which enrich the landscape. Pity it is that we

cannot return the compliment by planting the beautiful white elm

(_Ulmus Americana_), the glory of Washington city, for it does not take

kindly to our island climate.

The elm with which we are most familiar in the North is the wych elm

(_U. montana_), easily to be distinguished from the English elm by the

fact that it throws up no suckers from the root, whereas the English elm

hardly ever ripens seed, and propagates itself entirely by suckers which

it sends out as colonists to an astonishing distance--50 yards and more.

There are exceedingly few authentic records of the English elm ripening

seed in Great Britain; on the other hand, the wych elm sometimes

produces a prodigious crop. In the spring of 1909 this tree presented a

curious appearance. The foregoing summer had been a very warm one,

stimulating the wych elm to such extraordinary efforts at reproduction

that, before the leaves appeared, the trees seemed to be covered with

fresh young foliage, which was really the crowded leaf-like seed

vessels. In June these leaf-like membranes had become dry scales, each

acting as parachute to a single seed, so that, under a hot sun and a

high wind, the air was full of them--so full that they actually choked

the eave-gutters of my house. Each of these little monoplanes carried

the potentiality of a majestic forest tree; given a suitable

resting-place, any one of these minute seeds might develop into an elm

like those at Darnaway, in Morayshire, which in 1882 were 95 feet high,

with clean boles up to 24 feet. So great was the exhaustion following

upon the abnormal seed crop of 1909 that some of my elms were

crippled by it, and two or three died outright.[9]

[Illustration: WYCH ELM (_Ulmus montana_)]

To produce well-shaped wych elms, timely pruning is essential, followed

by close forest treatment, for no other tree spreads more wildly and

wantonly, and unless means are taken to keep a single leader on each,

the result will be very different from those lordly examples which

stood, not many years ago, on the banks of the White Cart at Pollok,

four of which were figured by Strutt in his _Sylva Britannica_ in 1824.

The largest of these measured in that year 85 feet in height and 11 feet

10 inches in girth, and contained 669 cubic feet of timber. Two of this

group were blown down in the great gale of 22nd December, 1894, and the

remaining pair were felled in 1905, being respectively 90 and 96 feet

high. The age of these giants was shown by the annual rings to be about

300 years.

The weeping elms which one sometimes sees in gardens is a variety which

originated in a Perthshire nursery about one hundred years ago. It is

very ornamental, though it never attains much height, being perfectly

flat-topped. As it can only be propagated by grafts, a sharp lookout

must be kept to prevent the stock outgrowing the scion.

The wych elm is indigenous over the whole of the northern part of Great

Britain, the largest recorded being at Studley Royal, in Yorkshire--105

feet high and 23 feet in girth at 5 feet up in 1905. As an element of

the primæval Scottish forest, the wych elm must have been held in high

esteem, judging from the number of Gaelic place-names commemorating it.

The old Gaelic name for it was _leam_, plural _leaman_ (pronounced "lam"

and "lamman"). Ptolemy's _Leamanonius lacus_ is now Loch Lomond, the

lake of elms, out of which flows the Leven, which is the more modern

aspirated form _leamhan_ (pronounced "lavan"); and we find the same

association of names in eastern Scotland, where the Lomond Hills

overlook the town of Leven. The Lennox district was formerly written

Levenax, which is the adjectival form _leamhnach_ (lavnah), an elm wood.

The rivers Lune and Leven in Lancashire (Ptolemy's Alauna), the Leven in

Cumberland, and the Laune at Killarney all seem to indicate the former

existence of elm woods on their banks. In the name Carlaverock is

probably preserved another derivative--_caer leamhraich_, the fort among

the elms.

It was long supposed that the English elm (_U. campestris_) was not

indigenous to England, seeing that it never propagates itself in these

islands by seed. Its presence was explained by the convenient device of

attributing its introduction to the Romans; but there is not a shred of

evidence in support of this conjecture. The elm of Italy is quite a

distinct species, according to Elwes and Henry, a fact with which

Shakespeare, though familiar with "Warwickshire weeds" (as elms are

called near Stratford-on-Avon), may not have been acquainted when he

made Adriana plead with him she believed to be her husband:

Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine;

Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine;

Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state,

Makes me with thy strength to communicate.

The English elm, however, grows luxuriantly in Spain, and ripens seed

abundantly there, the tradition being current that it was introduced

from England to the Royal Park at Aranjuez when Philip II. was laying

out that demesne. Dr. Henry, however, considers it not improbable that

this tree is truly indigenous in Spain, and that it is certainly so in

the southern counties of England, where, as aforesaid, it reproduces

itself only by suckers. Other examples are not wanting of certain plants

yielding to climatic conditions, by resorting to reproduction by suckers

and ceasing to produce seed.

Perhaps the most striking display of the true English elm to be found

anywhere is the magnificent quadruple avenue known as the Long Walk, at

Windsor. Many of these are 120 feet high and 15 feet in girth. The

avenue leads from the Castle gates to the statue in the park, a distance

of two miles and three-quarters. Taller individual elms may be seen

elsewhere, as in the grounds of King's College, Cambridge (130 feet),

Boreham House, in Essex (132 feet), and Northampton Court,

Gloucestershire (150 feet by 20 feet in girth). The last-named tree, by

the way, may no longer be seen, for it was blown down in 1895, but there

can be no doubt about its dimensions, which were accurately ascertained

as it lay on the ground. It was probably the champion of that

particular species in England; but it was inferior in bulk to the great

elm which stood in the grounds of Magdalen College, Oxford, until it was

blown down in April, 1911, pronounced by Mr. Elwes to be "the largest

elm I have ever seen and the largest tree of any kind in Great

Britain."[10] Mr. Elwes carefully measured the fallen giant, finding it

to be 142 feet high, 27 feet in girth, and containing 2787 cubic feet of

timber. He and Dr. Henry pronounce it to have belonged to the variety or

sub-species classed as the smooth-leaved Huntingdon or Chichester elm

(_U. vegeta_, Lindley), although in this case no suckers had been

produced, which the Huntingdon elm usually sends up in profusion.

It is usually stated in forestry manuals that the English elm is not

suited for Scottish conditions. My own experience is directly opposed to

that view, for, having some score or so of these trees now about 110

years old to compare with wych elms planted at the same time, the

English species exceeds the other in height and equals it in bulk. Two

English elms at Loudon Castle, in Ayrshire, were measured in 1908, and

were found respectively to be 107 feet by 15 feet 4 inches and 105 feet

by 16 feet 4 inches.

[Illustration: THE GREAT ELM AT MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD]

I have found, however, that by far the shapeliest and best elm for

Scottish planting is the smooth-leaved elm, formerly, and probably

correctly, considered to be merely a permanent variety of the English

elm (_U. campestris_), but now distinguished as a species under the

title of _Ulmus nitens_. It certainly resists violent winds better

than the English elm, being therefore preferable for sea exposure.

Moreover, its timber is esteemed more highly than that of other elms,

being remarkably tough. Dr. Henry has distinguished a variety of this

elm as _Italica_--the Mediterranean elm--which is the kind used by

Tuscan vine-dressers to train their vines on.

The smooth-leaved elm is of less sprawling habit than the wych elm, but

occasionally it takes advantage of space to spread out of all measure.

Of this there is an example at Sharpham, near Totnes, where a tree of

this species has covered the space of a quarter of an acre, some of its

side branches being 104 feet long. The total height was between 80 and

90 feet in 1906, in which year it was figured in the _Gardeners'

Chronicle_ as a wych elm. Mr. Elwes, however, pronounces it to be of the

smooth-leaved kind. On the other hand, the Cornish elm, which is a

variety of _U. nitens_, is usually of columnar habit.

The Sycamore and other Maples

"Put forth thy leaf, thou lofty plane,

East wind and frost are safely gone;

While zephyr mild and balmy rain

The summer comes serenely on."

A north countryman, reading Clough's beautiful lines, is pretty sure to

apply them to the wrong tree, because, when a Scots forester speaks of a

plane tree, he is understood to mean what in the south is called a

sycamore. But even that is a misnomer, the true sycamore, mentioned in

Holy Writ, being a fig-tree (_Ficus sycamorus_).

[Illustration: SYCAMORE (_Acer pseudo-platanus_)

IN SUMMER]

The sycamore and the plane are quite distinct, belonging to separate

natural orders, the sycamore being a maple (_Aceraceæ_), the largest of

all the maples, and the plane constituting a single group in the order

_Platanaceæ_. The confusion of names has arisen from the success with

which the sycamore masquerades as a plane, imitating its foliage and

aping it in its habit of shedding the bark in thin flakes. Botanists

have given recognition to this peculiarity by the scientific title they

have conferred on the sycamore, viz. _Acer pseudo-platanus_, or the

false plane. But in its flower and fruit the sycamore cannot disguise

its true affinity. Its flowers are arranged in triplets on long hanging

scapes, of a yellowish green, only requiring a dash of brighter hue to

render the sycamore one of the loveliest objects in the spring woodland.

The flowers are followed by fruits which stamp the tree unmistakably as

a maple. The seed-vessels are composed of what in botany are termed

_samaræ_ or keys, each containing a large seed or two. These samaræ

are attached to each other in pairs, and, as each carries a

beautifully-formed membranous wing, the result is a pair of wings to

each pair of seed-vessels, securing wide distribution of the seeds by

autumnal winds. On the other hand, the flowers of the true plane

(_Platanus_) are very minute, and the fruit consists of a mass of thin

seeds set among closely-pressed hairs and bristles, forming a hard,

perfectly round ball nearly an inch in diameter. These balls, from two

to six on each fruiting stalk, hang conspicuously on the branches all

winter, until the dry March winds burst them and allow the seeds to

float away.

Neither sycamore nor plane are natives of the United Kingdom. The plane,

though it excels all other trees for planting in smoky towns like

London, does not take kindly to the cooler atmosphere of Scotland and

northern England. Not so the sycamore, which, although naturally a

product of the mountain ranges of Central and Southern Europe, nowhere

flourishes more freely and sows itself more abundantly than in North

Britain. Indeed, it is a conspicuous instance of the careless

prodigality of Nature how thickly every bare spot in a wood becomes

covered with seedling sycamores, not one in a million of which have the

faintest chance of surviving two or three seasons.

The life period of the sycamore is a long one, probably three times that

of the beech and equal to that of the oak. At Truns, in the Swiss

Oberland, a great sycamore, already in ruin, was destroyed by a storm in

1870. As it was under this tree that the Grey League, originators of the

canton of Grisons, took the oath in 1424, it can scarcely have been less

than 600 years old when it ceased to exist. Mr. Elwes gives the

dimensions of another mighty sycamore in Switzerland, growing at an

elevation of more than 4000 feet in the canton of Unterwalden, which

must be coeval with the tree of the Grey League. It measures 29 feet in

circumference at 5 feet from the ground. We cannot quite equal that in

Scotland, although in that country and northern England there are some

enormous sycamores. Behind the Birnam Hotel stand two very large trees,

an oak and a sycamore. The oak, lesser of the two, is shown to visitors

as the last survivor of that forest whereof it was said

Macbeth shall never vanquished be

Until great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill

Shall come against him.

[Illustration: SYCAMORE

IN WINTER]

The other is a giant sycamore, reported in Hunter's _Woods and Forests

of Perthshire_ (1883) to be one thousand years old, which, of course, is

impossible. I measured the girth of this great tree in 1903, and made

it 19 feet 8 inches at 5 feet from the ground. It was not until long

after that I found that Hunter had given exactly the same measurement

twenty years earlier. This girth is exceeded by one at Castle Menzies,

which, in 1904, gave 20 feet 4 inches. The loftiest sycamore reported in

Scotland is also in Perthshire, at Blair Drummond. This tree Dr. Henry

ascertained to be 108 feet high, with a girth of 10 feet.

At Kippenross, also in Perthshire, there remain fragments of a sycamore

destroyed by lightning in 1860. It was known in the seventeenth century

as "the Muckle Tree o' Kippenross," and was estimated in 1821 to contain

875 cubic feet of timber.

It would be vain to attempt within reasonable limits of space to give a

catalogue of the notable sycamores in Great Britain. Most of the finest

specimens are in Scotland; for no tree can be planted in our northern

land with greater security of success; it fears neither severe frost nor

reasonable wind exposure; but it insists upon well-drained soil. In

damp, low-lying ground it may appear to flourish; but in such a

situation it is sure to prove "boss" (to use a term in Scottish

forestry) or hollow at the heart when ready for the axe. In England

there are many sycamores of 100 feet and upwards; but this tree has

become much more closely identified with the landscape of the northern

counties than with that of the south.

As a forest tree, the sycamore has been treated with unmerited neglect

by British planters; though it is not singular in that respect, so

improvidently have we accustomed ourselves to rely upon foreign

supplies. We ought to bestow more care upon our sycamores, because not

only is it a tree that rapidly re-establishes itself by seed and is

practically immune from disease, but it produces timber which, when of

sufficient size, commands a higher price than any other British-grown

wood. That size is not less than 18 inches quarter girth, representing

sixty to eighty years' growth, and from that size up to any dimensions,

provided that the bole is straight, clean-grown and free of knots. The

main purpose for which such stems are in demand is for making large

rollers used in calico and wallpaper printing, in washing machines and

cotton dyeing. A few years ago I was shown a single sycamore growing at

Makerstoun on Tweedside for which the owner had been offered, and

refused, £50. The wood is also in good request for railway carriage

panelling, furniture, dairy utensils, etc.

[Illustration: FRUIT OF SYCAMORE (_Acer pseudo-platanus_)]

As an ornamental tree it must be owned that the sycamore does not take

high rank, owing to the monotonous tone assumed by its massive foliage

after the flush of spring has passed. Nor does it usually compound for

this by splendour of autumnal colour, as so many of the maple family do.

Indeed, this is one of the qualities of its near kindred which the

sycamore has discarded in order, it would almost seem, to simulate the

plane more perfectly and to justify its appellation of "the false

plane"; for the foliage of the plane falls like that of the sycamore

without any dying brilliancy. It is true, however, that old sycamores,

when sheltered from sea winds, do sometimes assume bright tones of

yellow and orange in autumn. At Keir, in Perthshire, a row of aged trees

of this species surprised me by their brilliancy in November, 1913.

Trees: A Woodland Notebook Containing Observations on Certain British and Exotic Trees · 第 3 / 14 段