who first raised it from seed in this country in 1854) often reaches a
height of 200 feet, with a girth of 36 feet. It agrees thoroughly with
British conditions of soil and climate; there are many in various parts
of the United Kingdom from 60 to 70 feet high. The timber is of finer
quality than that of _Thuja_, and equally durable; but in Professor
Sargent's opinion the Nootka Sound cypress (_C. nootkatensis_) is a more
valuable tree, though slower in growth and inferior in bulk to the
Lawson. While the Lawson cypress agrees with a considerable amount of
moisture in the soil, provided the drainage is good, the Nootka cypress
seems to do best on soil too poor and dry for the other. Both species
are impatient of overhead shade and extreme wind exposure, but both are
perfectly hardy and very beautiful when grown in reasonable shelter from
storms.
Most rapid in growth of all the cypress tribe is the Monterey cypress
(_C. macrocarpa_), but it can only be recommended for mild districts
near the sea. It will not stand the frost in most inland districts, but
those which I have growing within a mile or two of the coast came unhurt
through the long and terrible frost of January and February, 1895, when
the mercury fell below zero. This tree is remarkable by reason of its
being found native only in two places, both in California, at Monterey,
and on the island of Guadalupe. In neither place does it extend much
beyond an area of three square miles. In maritime districts of the
United Kingdom it grows most vigorously, and ripens seed freely, forming
a splendid shelter for other trees. But its branch growth is so
luxuriant as to be apt to outstrip the root system; wherefore, to
prevent young plants getting swung by sea winds, it is well to shorten
the branches till the trees are well established.
The Monterey cypress is of a beautiful bright green, and forms a lovely
hedge, for which purpose it may be propagated to any extent by cuttings;
but for forest purposes seedlings should invariably be used. Mr. Elwes
pronounces the timber "to be so coarse and knotty as compared with that
of other cypresses, that it is not likely to be of any economic value";
but that is owing to the manner in which it is usually grown in this
country, as isolated specimens, which encourages a rampant growth of
side branches. Reared in close canopy, it develops fine clean boles, and
Proffessor Sargent reports the timber as being "heavy, hard, strong,
very durable, close grained." It is indeed surprising how wood of that
weight and quality can be so rapidly produced. In its own country,
exposed to the full blast of Pacific gales, it appears never to exceed
60 or 70 feet in height; but there are already in the United Kingdom
many taller than that, though the seeds were not brought to this country
till 1838. Probably the largest Monterey cypress in England is one at
Lamorran in Cornwall, which in 1905 gave a height of 86 feet, and a
girth of 12½ feet.
No notice of the _Cupressineæ_, however succinct, would be complete
without mention of what is called in North America the incense cedar
(_Libocedrus decurrens_), though it is of small account as a timber
producer. Of all the group it lends itself most conspicuously to
landscape effect, retaining its close, columnar figure quite
independently of shears or side shade and distinguished by its rich,
velvety, dark green foliage. It was not brought to Britain till 1853,
yet there are with us many specimens over 60 feet high. Again let me
warn those desiring to see the true character of this fine tree to have
nothing to do with plants reared from cuttings.
The same applies to an Asiatic member of this group, namely, the Hinoki
cypress (_C. obtusa_), so highly prized by the Japanese for its
beautiful, satiny timber. It grows to a height of 100 feet in Japan,
where it is much planted, being indigenous in the central and southern
parts of the main island. It was brought to England in 1861. I have
raised a quantity from seed, and it has proved quite hardy; but its
growth is not nearly so free as that of the above-named American
species, and it cannot be said that it is likely to be a profitable
forest growth with us. It is, however, a very pretty tree in its youth.
The Wellingtonia and the Redwood
In the vegetable world stature and bulk afford no index to longevity.
The lofty pine may be but a stripling in years compared with the lowly
lichen that clings like paint to the rock at its foot. One may be able
to calculate pretty nearly the age of yonder massive oak; yet before the
acorn whence it sprang had ripened, the primrose in its shade may have
brightened many springtides with its blossoms.
Howbeit there are certain forest growths that go on adding indefinitely
to their bulk during such vast spaces of time as almost to stagger the
imagination. The man who can contemplate unmoved a tree, still growing
vigorously, which was flourishing when Aaron's rod budded before Pharaoh
must be of sterner stuff than most of us; yet such trees may be seen, if
the German botanist Mayr's estimate be correct of the age of the largest
Wellingtonia which he measured. This giant at 13 feet above the ground
was 99 feet in circumference, 11 yards in diameter, and showed 4250
rings of annual growth. Even if Sir Joseph Hooker's cautious view be
adopted that this species of tree may make two rings of growth in each
year, that carries one back to a time centuries before our country
became a province of the Roman Empire.
When seeds of this giant tree were first brought to England by Mr. J. D.
Matthew in 1853, we Britons named it _Wellingtonia_ in pious memory of
the Iron Duke, who had breathed his last in the previous year, and that
is still the name it goes by popularly with us. Americans, not less
patriotically, called it _Washingtonia_; but we are now bidden by
botanists to speak of it as _Sequoia_, a genus of conifers composed of
only two species. _Sequoia gigantea_, then, is the mightiest of
evergreens, for although the other species, the Redwood (_S.
sempervirens_), may exceed it in stature, ranging to a height of 340
feet, it does not build up such an enormous trunk. The largest Redwood
measured by Dr. Mayr in 1885 was 308 feet high, but not more than 46
feet in girth at 6½ feet from the ground. Its bole was clear of
branches to a height of 230 feet. It may enable readers to realise these
vast dimensions if they bear in mind that Messrs. Elwes and Henry have
not found a tree of any kind in the British Isles 150 feet high, except
the great black Italian poplar at Albury Park, and here and there a
larch and spruce reaching to that stature.
Sixty years' experience has proved to British planters that, given
suitably generous soil and adequate shelter, the Wellingtonia can be
grown in these islands as successfully as in its native district, to
wit, the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada of California between the
altitudes of 5,000 and 8,500 feet. Indeed, there is no reason to doubt
that, in sheltered glens and river valleys, it is capable of attaining
in the Old World dimensions as great as those it has reached in the New.
Owing to the ease with which they can be raised from seed, Wellingtonias
have been very widely distributed through British and Irish counties,
and there are already many of 100 feet and upwards in height--an
astonishing growth for less than half a century. Thus a Wellingtonia at
Fonthill, which is known to have been raised from seed in 1861, was 102
feet high in 1906, with a girth of 17 feet, being then only 45 years
old. This tree stands in a favourably sheltered hollow, and so does one
of the tallest I have seen in this country, namely, one at Albury Park,
which stands on the brink of the lucid Tillingbourne. This tree, planted
in 1857, was 54 feet high in 1879, and 97 feet in 1913.
It is obvious that, under ordinary conditions, the Wellingtonia in this
country must outstrip all surrounding trees of other sorts, and suffer
from wind exposure, unless planted in close forest of its own kind. It
must be confessed that he would be ill-advised who should devote good
land to such a crop, for the timber of Wellingtonia, though very
durable, is weak, coarse, and quite unsaleable in the European market.
Unhappily, the inferiority of the timber has not protected the trees
from the reckless destruction of the beautiful forest by lumberers. Huge
trees have been felled which, in falling, have smashed many others;
fires have been frequent, and it is not unlikely that this, the
mightiest of all green things of the earth, would have been exterminated
ere this, but for protective State legislation. "Big Tree wood," says
Professor Jepson, "has extraordinary durability, fallen logs in the
forest having remained sound for several centuries. It is used for
posts, farm-buildings, shingles, raisin-trays, and for stakes in
vineyards. It seems unfortunate that timber of such magnificent
proportions cannot be applied to larger purposes than grape-vine
stakes."[27] Professor Jepson undertook a census of the remaining
forest; from the list published in his _Silva of California_ it appears
that there are still scattered groves over an area of some 38,000 acres,
although in one of these groves there are only six trees left, while
some others contain no more than from 30 to 150. In twenty-two groves,
however, the trees were so numerous that they were not counted.
Seeing that British planters must not look for any profit from the
timber which is so liberally produced by the Wellingtonia, there remain
only its decorative qualities to recommend it. These are considerable,
provided right advantage be taken of them. Isolated specimens in
sheltered places grow into majestic objects with broadly buttressed
trunks and dense green curtains of leafage; but perhaps the most
impressive effects are obtained by setting Wellingtonia in formal
avenues. Such an avenue was planted by the late Mr. Walter of Bearwood
at Wellington College in 1869. This avenue is 1,200 yards long and 25
yards broad; the trees were planted 54 feet apart, and as they now
average 80 feet high, and are clothed with verdure from the ground to
the summit, the effect is very stately and impressive.
Turning now to the other species in this genus--the Redwood (_Sequoia
sempervirens_), we have a tree equalling, or even excelling, the
Wellingtonia in height, and greatly its superior both in beauty and
economic value. Originally this splendid tree occupied a far more
extensive area in California and Oregon than the Wellingtonia; but
lumberers have swept away great tracts of forest. In one respect the
Redwood resists extermination better than any other of its kin, being
almost, if not quite, unique among conifers (the yew being no longer
classed as a conifer) in sending up suckers profusely, which secures
natural regeneration after the parent trees have been felled.
The Redwood Park in California is a tract of forest 3,800 acres in
extent which the State Legislature secured at a price of 250,000 dollars
in order to preserve the forest in perpetuity.
"It is," says Mr. Elwes in _The Trees of Great Britain_, "the most
impressive of all forests, being remarkable not only for the
immense size of the trees, but also for their extraordinary density
on the ground. A single acre has yielded 100,000 cubic feet of
merchantable timber.[28] ... I saw a stand close to Smith River
where the trees were of enormous size and of incredible density on
the ground. One tree measured 51 feet in girth."
The Redwood was first introduced to Great Britain about 1847, and has
proved fairly hardy if protected from frost in the seedling stage. It
is, however, impatient of wind exposure, and seldom displays its best
qualities unless planted in close forest. In suitable environment this
tree develops into one of the most beautiful trees imaginable, owing to
its stately habit, deeply fissured bark of a rich russet hue, and
luxuriant, glossy foliage.
Three Redwoods were planted in a glen at Cuffnells, near Lyndhurst, in
1855; these measured in 1906 from 98 to 105 feet high, with girths from
10 to 15 feet. This shows an average annual increase of height of 2 feet
over a period of fifty years, which is far in excess of any other tree
grown in the British Isles, not excepting the Wellingtonia. The
consequence is that, as the Redwood has nowhere been planted in
extensive masses, the leaders are peculiarly liable to be destroyed by
high cold winds. Moreover, the quality of the timber produced in Great
Britain cannot be rightly estimated until the trees shall have been
subjected to close forest treatment, for in isolated specimens the
texture of the wood is spoilt by excessive width between the annual
rings.
Having regard to the value of Redwood timber exported from America, and
the rapidity with which it is developed, this species is well worth
attention from any person or corporation planting on a large scale in a
sufficiently humid climate, for it is to be noted that it is very
impatient of drought. The Redwood Belt, extending from Sonoma County to
Del Norte County, enjoys an average annual rainfall of 50 inches. Much
less than that will serve the tree in the British Isles, owing to the
sun being far less powerful over here than it is in California.
Propagation is done from suckers, for, as is the case with some other
trees--the English elm, for instance--the production of fertile seed is
diminished or disappears with the acquirement of the suckering habit.
It has been claimed for the Redwood that it is the tallest growth in the
world; but Australians dispute its title to that distinction on behalf
of _Eucalyptus amygdalina_. The data for a verdict are as follows: In
1896 Professor Sargent measured a Redwood felled on the Eel River, and
found it to be 340 feet high and 31 feet 3 inches in girth at 6½ feet
from the ground. The rings of annual growth numbered 662. On the other
hand, the height of two fallen eucalyptus have been recorded as 420 and
471 feet (the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral is 404 feet high); but Mr.
Malden, Director of Sydney Botanic Garden, has declined to receive these
measurements as trustworthy. It is very much to be desired that the
truth should be ascertained before it be too late.
Not far in kin from the Redwood is the Western Hemlock (_Tsuga
albertiana_), not to be confused (as it often has been by nurserymen and
planters) with the Canadian Hemlock (_T. canadensis_), which is a tree
of very inferior beauty and merit to the other. The Western Hemlock
forms splendid forests in British Columbia, Washington and Oregon,
attaining its greatest dimensions near the sea-coast, where Professor
Sargent has recorded specimens 200 feet high and 20 or 30 feet in girth.
Introduced to Great Britain by Jeffrey in 1851, it has proved itself
contented with our climate, and is certainly one of the loveliest of
exotic conifers. There are now many specimens in the United Kingdom
measuring from 70 to 100 feet high. It is frost-hardy; but, to develop
its true grace, must have shelter from wind exposure. Sargent reports
very favourably of the timber, which is said to be disliked by rats and
mice; but it does not seem to have been imported into Europe. Seed is
plentifully produced, wherefore there is no excuse for the nefarious
trick of reproduction by cuttings.
[Illustration: GINGKO BILOBA
AT THE GROVE, WATFORD]
The Gingko
The Gingko or Maidenhair-tree (_Gingko biloba_) is among the most
interesting of trees, owing to its being, like the Araucaria, a survival
of the vegetation prevailing when the aspect of our globe was very
different from that which it bears now. Both Gingko and Araucaria were
classed as conifers by the older botanists; but certain archaic features
in each have been recognised as justifying their rearrangement in two
separate natural orders.
The gingko has not been found anywhere in a wild state, and owes its
preservation from an extremely remote past to the care which the Chinese
have always shown to preserve part of the natural forest round their
temples. It is in such situations that it is now found in China, Corea,
and Japan; but Dr. Henry suggests that it may not improbably exist in
the unexplored forests of central China.
The true affinity of this strange tree is with the ferns and cycads,
dominant orders in the Mesozoic world. It is, however, a true phanerogam
or flowering plant, the male and female flowers being born on separate
trees. The fruit and leaves found in the Lias clay at Ardtun, in the
Isle of Mull, have been pronounced indistinguishable from those of the
existing species.[29] What a vast chasm of time divides us from the
summers when these fruit and leaves were produced! Since they fell our
land has been ploughed and scarred by the land ice of successive glacial
periods, each enduring for unnumbered thousands of years; yet these
fragile relics, drifting into clefts and crannies and overlaid by the
clay which the ice ground out of the rocks, have survived the rocks
themselves. And now the climate of these islands has been tempered
again, so that the gingko finds a congenial home in our pleasure
grounds.
It is a very beautiful tree, provided it is raised from seed, or, at
least, propagated by layers. Unluckily, planters are very apt to be
supplied with young trees reared from cuttings, which never turn out
well, for seed is seldom produced in this country, owing to the
different sexes not being planted together, and the rapidity with which
imported seeds lose their vitality. The foliage is unlike that of any
other tree grown in Great Britain, the leathery, light green, fan-shaped
leaves suggesting the design of a gigantic maidenhair fern, whence it
used to be known botanically as _Salisburia adiantifolia_. The foliage
turns a beautiful clear yellow in autumn.
The first European botanist to mention the gingko was Kæmpfer, who found
it in Japan in 1690, but it was not introduced to England until more
than sixty years later. In Scotland it does not seem to have been often
planted, though it is quite hardy in the milder districts. The only
considerable specimen I have seen north of the Tweed was one 40 or 50
feet high on the banks of the Ayr at Auchincruive. This was blown down
some years ago, but when I saw it last it was growing vigorously from
the stool.
There are many fine gingkos in England. The finest known to me are at
The Grove, near Watford, 68 feet high, with a girth of 8 feet 5 inches
in 1904 (see plate at page 228). One at Panshanger, in the same county,
of which I did not measure the height, was reported to be 70 feet, and I
found the girth to be 8 feet. Both of these are most graceful, vigorous
trees, but they must yield in stature to one at Melbury House, near
Dorchester, which has reached a height of more than 80 feet. No
tree-lover who has seen such fine examples as these can fail to regret
that more frequent use has not been made of the gingko in ornamental
planting. That is its proper function with us, for the timber is of no
more than mediocre quality.
Many fine gingkos may be seen in the Loire valley, at Geneva, and in
northern Italy; but nowhere have I been so much impressed with their
decorative qualities as in the beautiful city of Washington, where they
have been planted in a long avenue along one of the principal streets.
True, they have not yet attained a great stature--from 30 to 40 feet are
the tallest--but their verdure is most refreshing in that sun-baked
capital, and it is easy to imagine what they may become at their present
free rate of growth.
The gingko is particularly well suited for a town atmosphere. In the
most malodorous part of evil-smelling Brentford, close to a brewery and
opposite a huge gaswork, stands the wreck of a fine one. Jammed in
between grimy buildings, it has lost its top, but each spring it still
hangs out its fairy leafage over the dingy thoroughfare.
[Illustration: AVENUE OF ARAUCARIA IMBRICATA
AT CASTLE KENNEDY, WIGTOWNSHIRE]
The Araucaria
Very different in habit and appearance from the lightsome gingko is the
araucaria or puzzle monkey, but, like the former, it is a survival of
the vegetation that flourished in the carboniferous era, when it had to
compete with giant ferns, cycads, and horse-tails, and attained its
utmost development in the Jurassic landscape. Of the ten known species
of araucaria, all indigenous only in the southern hemisphere, only one
is hardy in Great Britain--_A. imbricata_--which forms forests on the
mountains of southern Chile.
This tree was first brought to England in 1795 by Archibald Menzies,
who, visiting Chile with Captain Vancouver, sowed some araucaria nuts on
board ship and brought home six live seedlings. It was not till 1844,
however, that any fresh supply of seeds reached this country, when
William Lobb, collecting for the firm of Veitch, secured a large
quantity. The quaint character of the tree, the readiness with which the
seeds germinated, and its thorough adaptation to British soil and
climate soon caused it to be widely distributed, so that at this day
there is no tree with which people are more familiar than the puzzle
monkey. At the same time, there is no tree which has suffered so much
from injudicious planting among inappropriate surroundings. It is a
creature demanding broad light and free, pure air; and I know of no more
dismal object in the world of plants than an araucaria stuck down in
front of a suburban villa, stifled with smoky deposit, retaining a
despairing grip of life, whereof the only visible sign is the green tips
of its poor blackened branches. It is treatment such as this which has
caused the araucaria to lose favour with British planters. To realise
what this tree is capable of in our hands, one has but to visit the Earl
of Stair's grounds at Castle-Kennedy and stroll down a wide grassy
avenue, two hundred yards in length, bordered on either side by
araucarias over 50 feet high (see plate at page 232).
Effective in a different fashion must be the araucaria grove at
Beauport, Sussex, which I have not seen. Here a number of these trees
were planted about fifty years ago, and allowed to grow in forest
canopy, the inner ones clearing their boles naturally. The largest of
these, measured by Dr. Henry in 1904, was 74 feet high, with a girth of
7 feet 9 inches.
[Illustration: ARAUCARIA IMBRICATA MALE FLOWER]
[Illustration: ARAUCARIA IMBRICATA FEMALE FLOWER]
Again another effect. On the west shore of Loch Fyne, united to the
mainland by a narrow neck of shingle, is Barmore Island, a grassy, rocky
pile, treeless save for a solitary araucaria which some freakish hand
has planted many years ago high on the northern slope. The impression
received from this lonely foreigner is very enduring. (Let me not be
misunderstood. I do not mean the physical impression, which would be
distinctly disagreeable; but the mental one, which is most pleasing.)
Araucaria timber is said to be like good deal, but smoother and heavier.
Like most primitive types of vegetation, the trees are of separate
sexes, though exceptionally a tree may be found bearing male and female
flowers. The male inflorescence is like a large, brown, pendant catkin,
4 or 5 inches long; the huge female cones take two years to ripen, when
they open, and each discharges 200 or 300 large seeds, 1 to 1½ inch
long. These seeds are freely produced in nearly all parts of Britain;
self-sown seedlings spring up where the undergrowth permits them; and as
an article of food the kernels are not to be despised when cooked as
chestnuts.
The araucaria is one of many South Chilian plants which relish the
climate of western Britain and Ireland. The character of climate in
these widely-separated regions is curiously similar, though from
diametrically opposite causes. In Chile abundant moisture arises from
the afflux of a cold ocean current upon a warm coast; in the British
Isles a warm ocean current flows upon the colder land.
GLASGOW: PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO.
LTD.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _Trees of Great Britain and Ireland_, Introduction, p. xv.
[2] _Trees of Great Britain and Ireland_, ii. 334.
[3] _Trees of Great Britain and Ireland_, ii. 328.
[4] _Sylva_, chap. iii. section 2.
[5] _The Trees of Great Britain and Ireland_, by H. J. Elwes and
Augustine Henry, vol. i. p. 20.
[6] Holly.
[7] Sycamore.
[8] Probably the ash.
[9] The summer of 1914 was noted for a similar abundance of seed on the
wych elm.