for its fruit from immemorial time, has developed a great number of
varieties, producing large or thin-shelled nuts, which cannot be
trusted for the production of fine timber. Where that is the purpose, it
is important to plant the wild type, for which the demand is not such as
to encourage nurserymen to stock it. John Evelyn, nearly two hundred and
fifty years ago, urged his fellow-countrymen to give more attention to
the walnut, but he urged in vain.
"How would such publick plantations improve the glory and wealth of
a nation! but where shall we find the spirits among our countrymen?
Yes, I will adventure to instance in those plantations of Sir
Richard Bidolph upon the downs near Letherhead in Surry; Sir Robert
Clayton at Morden near Godstone, and so about Cassaulton
[Casehorton], where many thousands of these trees do celebrate the
industry of the owners, and will certainly reward it with infinite
improvement, as I am assured they do in part already, and that very
considerably; besides the ornament which they afford to those
pleasant tracts."
It is curious to find Evelyn, who infused a fair proportion of
scientific scepticism into his practical treatise, lending credence to
some of the mythical virtues of the walnut. Thus he gravely writes that
"the distillation of the leaves with honey and urine makes hair spring
on bald heads."
In raising this tree from seed the walnuts offered for sale as food
should be avoided, for these generally have been kiln-dried, and their
vitality, as well as their flavour, thereby impaired or destroyed. Nuts
should be selected from large trees of the best habit, laid in sand
during the winter and sown in February. They are rather ticklish plants
to handle in the nursery, owing to the long bare tap-root which they
send down, and which should be shortened when the seedlings are
transplanted, as they should be at a year old. If fine timber be the
object, the young trees when planted out should be stimulated to upward
growth by the presence of other trees as nurses. A very slight spring
frost suffices to destroy the young growth; but the walnut generally
escapes that risk by being the latest of all our woodland trees, except
the ash, to put forth leaves. I do not remember to have seen the young
leaves appear so early as they did in the remarkable spring of 1914,
when they were put forth before the end of April; the ash continuing
bare that year till the very end of May.
Of the many fine walnut trees scattered over the midland and southern
English counties, I have seen none equal in size to one figured in Elwes
and Henry's great work (vol. ii., plate 74), a truly noble specimen
growing at Barrington Park, Oxfordshire. In 1903 it was between 80 and
85 feet high, with a girth of 17 feet. The bole and branches are covered
with burrs, indicating that the timber would make beautiful panelling
and veneers.
The only notable walnuts which I can remember to have seen in Scotland
are one at Gordon Castle, another at Cawdor, and a third at
Blairdrummond. The first of these would have been a magnificent tree had
it been subjected to forest discipline in youth, and so expended its
vigour in height rather than breadth. It is only 60 feet high, with a
girth of 10 feet, but it covers with its huge branches a space nearly 80
feet in diameter. The tree at Cawdor is about 65 feet high, with a girth
of 15 feet 7 inches; and that at Blairdrummond is the tallest of the
three, with a girth of 13 feet. Such dimensions cannot compare with
those which the walnut attains in Southern Europe. A writer in the
_Gardeners' Chronicle_ described one in the Baidar Valley, near
Balaclava, which yields from 80,000 to 100,000 nuts annually, and
belongs to five Tartar families, who divide the produce between them.
Still, there are so many fine examples of what this tree may become in
Great Britain that one may well ask why the production of its timber has
been so utterly neglected. Mahogany and other foreign woods have usurped
its place in the cabinet trade; but we still import large supplies of
walnut, not only for panelling, but for the stocks of army and sporting
small arms. For that purpose it has no equal, owing to its lightness,
strength, the nicety with which it can be cut to fit gunlocks, and
because it never warps nor swells when exposed to wet. "During the last
war," says Selby in 1842, "when most of the continental ports were shut
against us, walnut timber rose to an enormous price, as we may collect
from the fact of a single tree having been sold for £600; and as such
prices offered temptation that few proprietors were able to resist, a
great number of the finest walnuts growing in England were sacrificed at
that period to supply the trade.[14] Some years ago the War Office
authorities sought to extend their sources of supply by substituting one
of the superb kinds of timber grown in our colonies; but although
twenty different woods were submitted and tested, none was found
suitable except the American black walnut.
This (_Juglans nigra_) is a larger tree than the European species,
growing to a height of 150 feet with a girth of 15 to 20 feet in the
middle States of North America. It has now become very scarce, owing to
reckless destruction of the forests; but there are some specimens in
England already approaching the dimensions of those in Ohio, Indiana,
and Kentucky. For instance, there is one at the Mote, near Maidstone,
over 100 feet high, with a girth of 12 feet 6 inches in 1905, and
another in the public park at Twickenham, 98 feet high in the same year,
with a girth of 14 feet 3 inches. Besides some lofty black walnuts of
the ordinary type at Albury Park, Surrey, there is one very handsome
tree on the terrace, near the house, distinguished as a variety under
the title _J. nigra alburyensis_.
I do not know of any in Scotland, except a few hundreds which I raised
from seed about ten years ago, and which are now planted out in mixture
with the Japanese _Cercidiphyllum_. The only fault I find with them is
that, while the young growth is as tender as that of the common walnut,
it is earlier in starting, and therefore more liable to injury from
spring frosts.
The timber of the black walnut is quite equal in quality and superior in
beauty to that of the European species. The tree is sometimes confused
with the kindred genus hickory (_Carya_), whereof there are many fine
specimens in Great Britain; but the two genera may be readily
distinguished from each other by cutting across a twig. The pith of all
species of walnut is neatly chambered, that of the hickories is solid.
[Illustration: BLACK WALNUT (_Juglans nigra_ var. _alburyensis_)
AT ALBURY PARK, SURREY
Height 75 ft., girth 9 ft. 6 in.]
The Holly
"Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly."
It is rather curious that, dearly as Shakespeare loved the woodland and
ready as he ever was to enrich his verse with references to trees and
flowers, he never mentions the holly except in this song from _As You
Like It_. This is the more remarkable because holly is more widely
distributed over Britain than most other forest growths, and must have
been far more abundant in the sixteenth century before the land was
infested by rabbits to the extent it is now; for these accursed rodents
make a clean sweep of holly seedlings and also destroy large trees by
barking them.
It may be thought that the holly should be ranked as a shrub rather than
as a forest tree; but when well grown it is fairly entitled to the
superior rank, for there are many fine specimens in these islands
upwards of 50 feet high. Dr. Henry measured one in 1909 near Ampthill,
in Bedfordshire, 60 feet high and ll½ feet in girth. But this tree
has no single bole, for it divides into seven large stems at about 18
inches from the ground. A far more shapely specimen is one which Lord
Kesteven measured at Doddington Hall, Lincoln, and found in 1907 to be
about 50 feet high, with a girth of 9½ feet at breast height. Being
very patient of shade, the holly is sometimes drawn up to still greater
height than this; Mr. Elwes having found some at Russells, near Watford,
crowded among beech trees and rising to 70 and 75 feet.
The most remarkable holly grove known to me is in the park of Gordon
Castle, covering a steep bank overlooking what used to be the Bog o'
Gicht, but now a fertile holm. It is not known whether these hollies are
of natural growth or planted, but they are evidently of great age;
indeed, they are mentioned as remarkable in a description of Gordon
Castle written in 1760--154 years ago. There are about five hundred
trees in the grove, irregularly scattered along the bank, fifty-four of
them being crowded into the space of about a quarter of an acre. But
alas! one may look in vain for seedlings which might ensure the
perpetuation of this ancient grove; all that may spring up are greedily
devoured by rabbits.
Talking of seedlings, the propagation of hollies from seed requires to
be set about in light of the fact that the seed requires a year of
repose before germinating. The readiest way, therefore, is to lay the
berries in moist sand for twelve months, after which the seeds may be
sown in a nursery bed, where they will soon show signs of life.
The largest, though not the loftiest, holly I have ever seen is the
remarkable tree at Fullarton House, near Ayr. It stands upon a shaven
lawn, which is greatly to the detriment of its nourishment, and it has
lost much of its height through decay of the upper branches. But it has
a single hole of 8 feet, measuring at the narrowest part, 3 feet from
the ground, 11 feet 3 inches in girth. The spread of branches is 189
feet in circumference.
Having been cultivated for centuries as a hedge and shrubbery plant, the
holly has sported into a great variety of forms and colours, none of
them, to my taste, the match of the wild type for beauty, and some of
them mere ugly caricatures thereof. The best variegated forms are of
ancient descent--namely Golden Queen and Silver Queen, which are quite
as vigorous and bear fruit as freely as the type. These are both very
beautiful; as to the other varieties, the world would be no loser if
they were all extirpated, unless the quaint little hedgehog holly,
described by Parkinson in 1640, were retained as a curiosity. To this
doom, however, I certainly would not consign the yellow-berried holly,
which gives a fine contrast with the common scarlet-berried kind, and is
stated by Cole (writing in 1657) to have been found in a wild state near
Wardour Castle. John Evelyn wrote in 1664 of a variety with white
berries; Loudon also referred to this, and also to one with black
berries; but I have neither seen these varieties nor met with anyone who
had. It is doubtful whether both writers have not been misled by
hearsay.
Evelyn employed all the resources of typography to express his
enthusiasm for this fine evergreen:--
"Above all the natural _Greens_ which inrich our _home-born_ store,
there is non certainly to be compared to the _Holly_, insomuch as I
have often wonder'd at our _curiosity_ after foreign Plants and
expensive _difficulties_, to the neglect of the _culture_ of this
_vulgar_ but _incomparable tree...._ Is there under _Heaven_ a more
glorious and refreshing object of the kind than an impregnable
_Hedge_ of _near three hundred foot in length, nine foot high_, and
_five in diameter_; which I can show in my poor _Gardens_ at any
time of the year, glitt'ring with its arm'd and vernish'd _leaves_?
The taller _Standards_ at orderly distances, blushing with their
natural _Coral_. It mocks at the rudest assaults of the _Weather_,
_Beasts_, or _Hedge-breakers_."
This hedge grew, not at Wotton, but at Sayes Court, Evelyn's other place
near Deptford, which he leased to the Czar Peter the Great in 1697, and
had occasion to repent having done so, for that eccentric monarch, in
the intervals of his work at the dockyard, amused himself by causing his
courtiers to trundle each other in wheelbarrows down a steep descent
into the said hedge, which was seriously damaged thereby.
No tree is better adapted than the holly for making a hedge; but it does
not always get the treatment necessary to produce the finest effect. I
have never seen any to equal the holly hedges at Colinton House, in
Mid-Lothian, which were planted between 1670 and 1680, and are now from
35 to 40 feet high, tapering upwards from a basal diameter of about 20
feet. The lower branches have rooted themselves freely, so that it would
be difficult to create a more effective barrier of vegetation. The
total length of these hedges is 1,120 feet, having been formed
originally with about 4,500 plants. Colonel Trotter's gardener, Mr. John
Bruce, takes a just pride in tending them, clipping them annually at the
end of March, so as to ensure a close young growth maturing before the
winter frosts.
The proper season for planting hollies is May, after growth has started.
If the operation is delayed till autumn, they make no new roots, and
suffer so much from frost and cold winds that many of them never get
established. This is one of those secrets which one has to find out for
oneself, at the cost of many wasted seasons. _Haud ignarus loquor._
Although in generous soil the holly will make long annual shoots, it is
very slow in forming wood, which may account for our neglect of it as a
timber tree. But the wood is of very fine quality, being hard and white,
excellent for turnery and for making mathematical instruments.
"We presume," says Phillips in _Sylva Florifera_ (1823), "that many
noble trees of holly would be seen in this country, but for the practice
of cutting all the finest young plants to make coachmen's whips, thus
leaving only the crooked branches or suckers to form shrubs." The demand
for this purpose must have diminished with the spread of automobilism;
but the ravages wrought on holly trees for Christmas decoration are
deplorable, raiders finding a ready sale for their plunder in all the
big towns. It is a gentle custom to "weave the holly round the Christmas
hearth"; but it is desirable that the weavers should observe some
distinction between _meum_ and _tuum_--pronouns which they seem to
regard as synonymous when applied to holly.
Pliny repeats, without comment, the statement by Pythagoras that the
flowers of holly turn water into ice, and, further, that if a man throws
a staff of holly at a beast, and misses it, the staff will return to his
hand. Here we seem to have a report of the use of the boomerang; but
Parkinson, writing in the seventeenth century, expresses lofty disdain
for such fables. "This," says he, "I here relate that you may understand
the fond and vain conceit of those times, which I would to God we were
not in these days tainted withal." The Scottish clans of Drummond and
Maxwell of old bore the holly as their badge.
In Lowland Scots the word "hollen" preserves the original English form,
which in Ancren Riwle (about 1230) is written "holin," being direct from
the Anglo-Saxon "holen, holegn." Chaucer writes it "holm," a form which
occurs in such place-names as Holmwood and Holmesdale in Surrey. It is
also preserved in the name holm-oak, _i.e._ the ilex or evergreen oak,
whereof the young leaves bear holly-like spines. It is an interesting
feature in both these trees, as well as in the holly-leaved _Osmanthus_,
that the leaves produced above the level of browsing animals are
spineless, such defence being needless for the upper branches. This
characteristic has been called in question by persons founding their
observation upon cultivated varieties of the holly, some of which bear
none but spineless leaves, others none but spined ones. It will,
however, be found to be the normal habit in wild hollies.
It is a hazardous thing for a Saisneach to dabble in Celtic etymology,
yet will I venture to mention that the Gaelic for holly is _cuileann_,
and may be recognised in such place-names as Cullen in Banffshire and
Lanarkshire and (aspirated) Barhullion in Wigtownshire. Far seen Slieve
Gullion, a cone of the Mountains of Mourne, in Armagh (1,893 feet), is
popularly connected with the name of Cuileann, a worker in metals in the
reign of Conchobar Mac-Nessa, King of Ulster; but it is written Sliebhe
Cuilinn in the Irish Annals, which indicates Holly Mountain as the true
meaning. From the same source we are able to interpret Cullen, Cullion,
and Cullenach, the names of many Irish townlands, as derived from
vanished hollies; and Cuileanntrach Castle, in Meath, destroyed by one
Rory in 1155, was so called because of the hollies on the shore.
Pea-flowered Trees
The enormous natural order of _Leguminosæ_ or pea-flowered plants
contains many of the loveliest flowering plants in the world, but among
them there are but three which, attaining the stature of trees,
contribute importantly to the beauty of British woodlands--namely, the
common laburnum, the alpine laburnum, and the false acacia or locust
tree.
[Illustration: PAGODA TREE (_Sophora japonica_)
IN THE BOTANIC GARDEN, OXFORD]
Every country child knows the laburnum, but it is not every planter who
recognises that there are two distinct species, bearing a general
resemblance to each other, but differing in the time of flowering and in
other important respects. The species most usually planted is the common
laburnum (_L. vulgare_), and of a truth it would be difficult to name
any tree more delectable with its "dropping wells of fire." It is
uncertain how early it was brought from Central Europe to Great Britain;
Tradescant had it growing in 1596; but if "awburne," mentioned in an
Irish Act of Edward IV. (cap. iv., 1464) among the four woods prescribed
for the bow with which every Englishman in Ireland was to provide
himself, means "laburnum," it follows that this tree must have been
in cultivation from very early times. Indeed, the botanist Matthiolus
mentions it as being better even than the yew for bow-making; and we may
recognise the word "awburne" in the old Lowland Scots name for the
laburnum, "hoburn saugh," both being from the alternative Latin form,
_alburnus_. Gerard called it the bean-trefoil.
There is but one precaution to be observed in planting
laburnums--namely, that they should not be within reach of horses or
cattle, for the seeds contain a powerful poison called cytisine. Some
years ago, wishing to do wayfarers a service by enlivening a stretch of
high road, I caused a row of laburnums to be planted on either side. The
trees had attained some stature, when a Clydesdale mare belonging to the
tenant of a field bordering the road suddenly died, her death being
attributed to eating laburnum seeds, so the trees had to be uprooted.
Neither leaves nor bark appear to contain the poison, judging from the
avidity shown by rabbits in devouring them. No tree is so vulnerable _at
all ages_ by those detestable creatures as are the laburnum and the
holly. The largest stems are liable to be barked by them in hard
weather. Some writers have copied Pliny in stating that bees will not
visit the flowers of laburnum; but Pliny cannot have been writing from
personal observation, for modern bees, at least, show no aversion to the
yellow blossoms.
The common laburnum seldom exceeds 30 feet in height. The largest I have
seen stands in the laundry yard of Alnwick Castle, over 40 feet high,
wide-spreading, with a double stem measuring over 11 feet in girth near
the ground. When Loudon measured it in 1835 the girth was only 6 feet 11
inches. It is a magnificent sight when in bloom. The timber of laburnum,
though now greatly neglected in favour of foreign woods, is of admirable
quality for cabinet work, being of a dark olive tint, and taking a fine
polish. Seeing that the laburnum is perfectly hardy in our climate and
grows rapidly in any well-drained soil, it seems a pity that the fine
material it produces is not more commonly used.
[Illustration: FLOWER OF LABURNUM]
The alpine laburnum (_L. alpinum_) goes by the name of Scottish laburnum
in the nursery trade. Like the common laburnum, it is a native of
Central Europe, being, probably, merely the mountain form of the other,
to which it bears a strong general resemblance. The readiest means of
distinguishing between the two species consists in the foliage and young
shoots. In the common laburnum the leaf stalks, young shoots, and under
sides of the leaves are thickly clothed with a smooth, silky pubescence,
whereas in the alpine species these parts are quite bare, which causes
the tree when in leaf to appear of a deeper green than the other. But
the important difference for planters is that the alpine laburnum
blossoms a fortnight or so later than the common laburnum, thereby
prolonging the display of these charming trees. Elwes describes the
flowers of the alpine laburnum as being paler in colour than those of
the other species; but according to my own observation they are of the
richer gold. There are some fine specimens in the Edinburgh Botanic
Garden, verging upon 100 years old, about 40 feet high, and now past
their prime. The timber is of the same fine quality as that of the
common laburnum.
Some beautiful hybrids have been reared between these two species, and
planters cannot be too strongly recommended to use them. The variety
known as _L. watereri_ bears flower-tassels 15 to 18 inches long. As it
is propagated by grafting on the common species, care should be taken
not to allow the stock to overcome the scion, root suckers and stem
spray being rigidly suppressed.
Another curious hybrid is _L. adami_, which originated nearly a hundred
years ago in a French nursery through engrafting _Cytisus purpureus_ on
a laburnum stem, with the result that this graft-hybrid produces yellow
flowers on some branches and violet ones on others.
Mr. Gerald Loder has secured a charming effect at Wakehurst Place,
Sussex, by planting wistaria to grow with laburnum, the flower racemes
being similar in size and shape, but respectively of the complementary
colours, yellow and violet.
In writing of a beautiful tree as the false Acacia, no reflection upon
its integrity is implied in the epithet. The Robinia is so called
because Englishmen have chosen to call it an acacia, which it is not,
any more than it is a locust tree, as the Americans speak of it. Its
scientific title is _Robinia pseudacacia_, commemorating Jean Robin, who
first reared it in France in 1601 from seeds sent to him from North
America, where it is very widely spread and much valued for the
durability of its timber.
William Cobbett (1762-1835) conceived an extravagant idea of its merits,
and predicted that it would supersede all British trees, including the
oak; but this expectation has fallen far short of fulfilment. Among many
other landowners who were induced to act on the faith of it, Lord
Folkestone, a fellow-Radical of Cobbett's, planted 13,000 or 14,000
locusts at Coleshill Park, Berkshire, in 1824; but of these only very
few remain now, none of them over 60 feet high. The fact is, the
_Robinia_ loves more sun than it gets in most parts of our islands and a
hotter soil. This renders it unsuitable for planting in Scotland,
especially in the humid west. There are, indeed, a few large specimens
north of the Tweed, such as one at Cordale House, Dumbartonshire, 64
feet high by 7 feet in girth; another at Mauldslie Castle, Lanarkshire,
60 feet high by 8 feet 7 inches in girth; and, most northerly of all,
one at Gordon Castle, which in 1904 measured 56 feet high by 9 feet in
girth. But, as a rule, it is only to be found in good form in the
sunnier shires; besides, notwithstanding the strength of its timber when
felled, the growing boughs are exceedingly brittle, which makes the tree
unsuitable for exposure to high winds.
[Illustration: ROBINIA PSEUDACACIA
AT WINCHESTER]