5-cleft, persistent. Corolla none. Fruit a membranous, compressed,
winged capsule (a _samara_), 1-seeded.
There stood the 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 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 lightness; 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
accurately 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.
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 TREE;
From dateless usage which our peasants hold
Of giving welcome to the first of May,
By dances round its trunk.
And again:
--The Joyful Elm,
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.
[Illustration: _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.]
In favourable situations, the common Elm becomes 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 in spring, a tint
which contrasts agreeably with the foliage of the oak, whose leaf has
generally, 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 Xanthus,
when that river, by its overflowing, placed him in danger of being
carried away. It has been suggested that the Romans probably introduced
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.
Dryden.
The Romans esteemed the Elm to be the natural support and friend of the
vine; and the feeling 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 as husband of the vine; and Pliny tells us,
that that Elm is a poor spouse that does not support 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,
'Twould 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 vine.
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 fair 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.
There is a beautiful group of Elms at Mongewell, Oxon, which are in full
vigour. The principal 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 English 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 descending to
the ground; the whole forming a splendid 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 in some countries are chiefly supported 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 public 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 under 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 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_. Ebr. Leaves nearly orbicular, acute, obliquely
cordate at the base, sharply, regularly, and doubly serrate; always
scabrous above, pubescent below, chiefly hairy in the axillæ.
Branches spreading, bright-brown, winged with corky excrescences;
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
axillæ. 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, coriaceous,
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 axillæ. Branches bright-brown, smooth, wiry,
weeping. Fruit obovate, naked, deeply cloven. [Greek: Beta].
_glandulosa_. Leaves very glandular beneath, [Greek: gamma].
_latifolia_. Leaves oblong, acute, very broad. Grows in woods and
hedges; [Greek: Beta]. near Ludlow; [Greek: gamma]. 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, cuspidate,
cuneate at the base, evenly and nearly doubly crenate-serrate,
strongly veined, coriaceous, very smooth and shining above, smooth
beneath, with hairy axillæ. Branches bright-brown, smooth, rigid,
erect, very compact. [Greek: Beta] _parvifolia_. Leaves much
smaller, less oblique at the base, finely and regularly crenate,
acuminate rather than cuspidate. Grows in Cornwall and North Devon;
[Greek: Beta] the less common.
7. _U. montana_. Bauh. _Witch Elm_. Leaves obovate, cuspidate,
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, according to Smith. N.
B. Of this, the Giant Elm and the Chichester Elm of the nurseries
are varieties.
[Illustration: THE HAWTHORN-TREE.]
THE HAWTHORN-TREE.
[_Cratægus_.[F] Nat. Ord.--_Rosaceæ_; Linn.--_Icosand. Pentag._]
[F] _Cratægus_. 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.
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 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 interesting 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 growing 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 recognised 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.
And with these, and a thousand such associations as these, we cannot but
feel emotions of no ordinary 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. oxyacantha_, 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."
[Illustration: Leaves, Flowers, and Berries of _C. oxyacantha._]
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, 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 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 supposed 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 vigorous, 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
husbandry 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 become blackish; and even then they rarely vegetate
before the second year. The proper mode of preparing them is as
follows:--If you do not sow them immediately, as soon as they are
gathered, spread 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.
[Illustration: THE HAZEL-TREE.]
THE HAZEL-TREE.
[_Corylus_.[G] Nat. Ord.--_Amentiferæ_; Linn.--_Monoec. Polyan._]
[G] _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 surrounded by a scaly
involucre. Styles 2. Nut 1-seeded, inclosed in the enlarged coriaceous
laciniated involucre.
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 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, caution persons against
eating too freely of this fruit, as it is difficult of digestion, and
often proves hurtful 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.
[Illustration: Leaves, Catkins, and Nuts of _C. avellana_.]
We must also give here a description of the pleasures of nutting, from
our favourite poet--the poet of nature--Wordsworth:
--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,
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
Unvisited, 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 always 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
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.