supply of suitable wood for the making of the dreaded English long-bow,
that the culture of the Yew was made the subject of a number of royal
ordinances, which, of course, were allowed to drop out of observance
when the bow was displaced by the firearm. And now when men plant Yews
they are mostly the ornamental varieties, such as the Irish or Florence
Court Yew, which originated as a wild sport on the mountains of
Fermanagh about a hundred and forty years ago. Evelyn, it is true,
revived the interest in the Yew as an ornamental tree, and it is with
regret we add that at his suggestion it was first put to the base use
called topiary work, which had hitherto been restricted to Box and
Juniper. Evelyn showed how much more closely and continuously the Yew
could be clipped without affecting its vitality, and the fashion he thus
set--and regarded as a "merit"--was very generally followed during the
next century. Many of the atrocities of those days are still with us,
but only as survivals; and we can so often agree with Evelyn that we may
forgive him for having led our ancestors astray in this matter. Evelyn
was by no means blind to the good points of the tree in its natural
condition, as witness this quotation, which is as true to-day as when it
was written:--
"He that in winter should behold some of our highest hills in Surry clad
with whole woods of these two last sorts of trees [Box and Yew], for
divers miles in circuit (as in those delicious groves of them, belonging
to the Honourable, my Noble Friend, the late Sir Adam Brown, of
Bechworth Castle), from Box Hill, might, without the least violence to
his imagination, easily fancy himself transported into some new or
enchanted country; for if in any spot in England,
'tis here
Eternal spring and summer all the year."
Along the chalk range of which the celebrated Box Hill forms part will
be found many fine examples of the Yew, as at Cherkley Court, near
Leatherhead, where there is an actual Yew forest. There was a monstrous
Yew at Brabourne in Kent, in Evelyn's time, for he tells us he measured
it, and found its girth to be only one inch short of fifty-nine feet.
There are numerous giants of the species still living in quiet country
churchyards, where they have probably served--as tradition states of
those at Fountains Abbey--as a shelter for the builders of the ancient
church during its erection. It is reputed to be the longest-lived of all
trees, and it is to be hoped that no hindrance will be put in the way of
these connections of the present with the far past living to their full
natural limit, whatever it may be. It is naturally a tree of the uplands
and lower hills, and shows a distinct preference for soils that contain
plenty of lime.
The Irish Yew (var. _fastigiata_), to which passing reference was made,
differs from the type in having all its branches growing erectly, after
the manner of a Lombardy Poplar, and in the leaves being scattered
promiscuously over the branchlets instead of being in two regular rows.
It attains a height of twenty to twenty-five feet.
[Illustration: _Pl. 75._ Juniper.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 76._ Fruits of Yew.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 77._ Fruits of Juniper.]
The Juniper (_Juniperus communis_) is seldom more than a shrub a few
feet in height, though it occasionally develops into a small tree from
ten to twenty feet high, and with a girth of five feet. It has a fibrous
red bark, which flakes off like that of the Yew. The leaves are shaped
like a cobbler's awl, rigid, and end in sharp points. They have
thickened margins, the concave upper sides are glaucous, and they are
arranged round the branches in whorls of three. The male and female
flowers are on separate trees. The male catkin may be known in May by
its numerous anthers and pale yellow pollen. The female catkins will be
found in the axils of the leaves, and resemble buds. The scales are
fleshy, and after fertilization the upper ones slowly develop into the
form of a berry, which has a few undeveloped scales at its base. They do
not ripen until the following year, when they are blue-black, covered
with a fine glaucous bloom. They have a pungent flavour, which is
utilized in concocting gin, which indeed owes its name to this fact--the
word being merely a contraction of _gen['e]vrier_, the French form of
Juniper. The "berries" have long been known as a kidney stimulant--a
fact which has been fully utilized as the justification of every
gin-drinker. A beautiful little moth--_Hypsilophus marginellus_--may
often be taken about the Juniper, upon which its caterpillar feeds.
To appreciate the variety of forms assumed by the Juniper according to
the elevation at which it grows, it should be seen on slopes like those
of the North Downs in Surrey--one portion of the range at Mickleham is
named Juniper Hill. In the valleys it may be found as a small shapely
tree, higher up the slopes as a pyramidal shrub, and as we reach higher
and more exposed positions, the Juniper gradually dwindles to a low,
shapeless bush. This, however, must not be confounded with a distinct
variety to which the name _nana_ has been applied; it differs from the
type in having shorter and broader overlapping leaves, with curved tips.
Var. _nana_ is confined to the mountains of the north of our islands,
and ascends to 2700 feet, which is 300 feet higher than is recorded of
the type.
[Illustration: Juniper in fruit. A, flowers.]
The Virginian Juniper (_Juniperus virginiana_), or "Red Cedar," as it is
called on the American continent, is a much larger plant, which is
frequently planted in our parks and gardens. It varies in habit, and may
be low and spreading, bush-like, or tall and tapering, thirty to forty
feet high. Its leaves are in threes, like those of our native species,
but the three are united by their bases. It is with the red heart-wood
of this tree that our "cedar" pencils are covered, large quantities of
the timber of _J. virginiana_, and formerly of _J. bermudiana_, being
imported for the purpose. The Virginian Juniper has been with us for
many years. It is mentioned by Evelyn in his "Sylva" (1664), and is
believed to have been introduced by him from North America.
[Illustration: _Pl. 78._ Scots Pine.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 79._ Bole of Scots Pine.]
The Scots Pine (_Pinus sylvestris_), commonly but incorrectly styled
Scotch Fir, is the typical Pine-tree of Northern Europe, where
(especially in Russia and Northern Germany) it constitutes huge forests.
It is even said to cover far wider tracts of country than any other
forest tree. Although there is evidence that in ancient days it was
pretty widely distributed over Britain, to-day all those Pine-woods of
Southern England are the results of planting, and it is only in a few
places between Yorkshire and Sutherland, and in Ireland, that it can be
regarded as truly wild and indigenous. Mr. John Nisbet points out that
the term "pine-forest" is a bit of tautology, for the old German word
_forst_ was derived from _foraha_--now represented by _f[:o]hre_, a fire or
pine--so that "pine-forest" is equivalent to "pine-pine." However, the
etymologists will probably allow us to speak of Pine-woods, and we will
try to remember that when we use the word forest it must always indicate
an assemblage of Pine-trees.
In favourable soil, at a moderate elevation, the Scots Pine is a fine
tree a hundred feet high, with a rough-barked trunk, whose girth is
twelve feet. Under such conditions it develops a strong tap-root, which
goes deep; but where the soil is shallow or otherwise unfavourable the
tap-root is not developed. At great elevations the upward growth is
checked early, and it becomes a mere evergreen bush. The branches are
short and spreading, those on the lower portions of the trunk dying
early, so that the tree soon gets that gaunt weather-beaten look that is
so characteristic of it. Then, after the growth of the leading shoot has
become feeble, the upper branches continue to lengthen, and so bring
about that flat-topped condition. Its growth is rapid, and in twenty
years it will attain a height of forty or fifty feet.
The leaves, which are in bundles of two, are from two to three inches
long, very slender, grooved above and convex beneath. They remain on the
tree for over two years, and in their first season are of a glaucous
hue, but in the second year this changes to dark deep-green. Both male
and female flowers are borne by the same tree. The male catkins are
individually small (1/4 inch), but are combined in spikes; this and the
abundant pale yellow pollen makes them conspicuous. The female cones are
somewhat egg-shaped, tapering to a point, which is often curved. They
are usually in clusters of three, and grow to a length of two or three
inches. The scales are comparatively few, and their ends are thickened
into an irregular four-sided boss, at first ending in a little point.
The seeds are winged, and contained beneath the scales. They take about
eighteen months to ripen, when the scales separate in dry windy weather,
and allow the breeze to pick out the seeds and send them flying through
the air to a great distance. The pollen, too, it should be noted, is of
a form specially fitted for aerial transport, each particle of pollen
forming two connected spheres. It is quite a common experience in May to
find little heaps of this pollen collected in hollows and at the margins
of ponds in the neighbourhood of Pine-woods; but, so difficult is it to
get people to understand the common facts of nature, that it is
generally regarded as evidence of a shower of brimstone having fallen.
It is not only the ignorant rustic who falls into this error; judging
from letters sent to the press by country parsons, even the universities
fail to prepare their alumni to deal with such phenomena. After the
eruptions of La Soufriere, several wrote to say that quantities of
powdered sulphur from St. Vincent had descended in their Surrey and
Hampshire parishes! their notion being that the commercial "flowers of
sulphur" are the direct produce of volcanoes.
[Illustration: Scots Pine.]
Although the wood produced by the Scots Pine in this country is not
considered of the highest quality, the species is certainly of equal
value as a timber-producer with any other tree. Owing to our mild
winters and long periods of seasonal growth, the Pine-wood produced in
Britain is coarse-grained and not very durable. In the colder parts of
Northern Europe, where summers are short and the long winters are
severe, the texture of the timber is more solid and the grain closer.
And so enormous quantities of Pine-wood come to us from the Baltic ports
every year. In addition to the timber, other valuable substances known
to commerce are products of the Scots Pine--pitch and tar, resin and
turpentine, for example. The Pine is an accommodating tree, for though
it likes a deep soil in which to strike its tap-root, it will grow upon
rocky ground, where the roots have to become horizontal and near the
surface; or it will form forests on poor sandy soils, even on the loose
hot sands near the seashore. This is a valuable power, because the fall
of its needles gradually forms a humus, and so provides food for other
plants which could not exist on raw sand.
Other coniferous trees that have become more or less familiar in our
plantations and parks will be found in the second division of this book.
[Illustration: _Pl. 80._ Male Flowers of Scots Pine.]
The Holly (_Ilex aquifolium_).
The Holly must be regarded as one of our small trees, although many
specimens attain a height of forty or fifty feet, with a girth of ten or
twelve feet. It is well distributed throughout our islands, ascending to
a thousand feet, and it is probable that no other tree is so well known,
by its foliage at least, as the Holly, or Holm, to give it its ancient
name. The word Holm was incorporated by some of our ancestors far back
in the name Holmsdale, which still attaches to the stretch of country at
the southern foot of the chalk hills in Surrey, and whose proud motto
is, "Never wonne, ne never shall." At the western end of the
Holmsdale is Holmwood, and still a little further west Holmbury. In
these places the Holly still grows bravely, not far from the old home of
John Evelyn, who must be thought of whenever we talk of Hollies, though
the recollection has to do with Sayes Court, his Thames-side house,
where the barbarian Peter wrought such havoc with his cherished
Holly-hedge. How Evelyn must have lamented that outrage is indicated in
this extract from the "Sylva":--
"Is there under heaven a more glorious and refreshing object of the
kind, than an impregnable hedge of about four hundred feet in length,
nine feet high, and five in diameter, which I can show in my now ruined
gardens at Say's Court (thanks to the Czar of Moscovy) at any time of
the year, glittering with its armed and varnished leaves? The taller
standards at orderly distance, blushing with their natural coral. It
mocks the rudest assaults of the weather, beasts, or hedge-breakers, _et
illum nemo impun[e'] lacessit_."
[Illustration: _Pl. 81._ Holly.]
[Illustration: Holly.]
The bark of the Holly is smooth and pale-grey in colour. Time out of
mind it has been used in the preparation of a viscid substance known as
birdlime, which, spread on twigs, holds the feet of small birds.
Respecting the foliage of the Holly, there is little need to say
anything, but for uniformity's sake we may note that the leaves are oval
in shape, of a leathery consistence, with a firmer margin, running out
into long sharp spines. It is a fact worthy of note that when the Holly
has attained to a height of ten feet or so, it frequently clothes its
upper branches in leaves that have no spines--a circumstance that Robert
Southey sought to explain in his poem "The Holly-tree," on teleological
grounds. His second verse, however, contains sufficient explanation of
the fact it describes:--
"Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen
Wrinkled and keen;
No grazing cattle through their prickly round
Can reach to wound;
But, as they grow where nothing is to fear,
Smooth and unarm'd the pointless leaves appear."
In some places the young shoots are gathered by the peasants, dried,
bruised, and used as a winter cattle-food. No doubt, in the early
history of the Holly, cattle found out its good qualities for
themselves, and browsed upon the then-unarmed foliage. In self-defence
the tree developed spines upon its leaves, and so kept its enemies at a
respectful distance. Above the reach of these marauders the production
of spines would be a useless waste of material.
[Illustration: _Pl. 82._ Flowers of Holly.]
The flowers of the Holly, though small, are conspicuous by their great
number and white colour. They are about a quarter of an inch
across, with four petals and four stamens or stigmas. Sometimes flowers
with stamens are produced by the same tree that bears flowers with
stigmas; but often the male and the female flowers are borne by separate
trees, so that the possessor of a Holly that is solely male is sometimes
puzzled by the fact that his tree, though covered with blossom, never
produces a berry. The fruit is analogous in structure to that of the
Plum and Cherry, and is technically termed a _drupe_; but instead of the
single stone of these fruits, in the Holly-berry there are four bony
little stones, each with its contained seed. The berries ripen about
September, and are then scarlet and glossy, though here and there one
finds a tree whose fruit never gets beyond the yellow stage of
coloration.
[Illustration: _Pl. 83._ Fruits of Holly.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 84._ Bole of Holly.]
Most parts of the tree have had their uses in medicine; the leaves, for
example, being said to have value as a febrifuge, and the berries as a
purgative, or in large doses (6 to 8) as an emetic. The smooth bark of
large Hollies is often attacked by one of the most striking of our
native lichens--_Graphis elegans_--whose black fruiting portions look
like a raised cuneiform inscription. The Holly is not greatly subject to
the attacks of insects, but many of its leaves will be found to have
been tunnelled between the upper and lower skins by the larva of a
minute moth, one of the Leaf-miners. It also provides the pabulum for
the caterpillar of the Holly-blue butterfly (_Lycaena argiolus_). The
dead leaves may be examined for the minute Prickly Snail (_Helix
aculeata_).
The wood of the Holly has an exceedingly fine grain, due to its slow
growth, and it is very hard and white. These qualities make it valuable
for many purposes, often as a substitute for Box-wood, and, when dyed
black, in lieu of Ebony.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Pl. 85._ Spindle--winter.]
The Spindle-tree (_Euonymus europaeus_).
The Spindle is right on the borderland between trees and shrubs, for
though it will grow into a tree twenty feet high, yet our hedgerow
specimens are usually bushlike, and only ten or twelve feet high. Until
the autumn the Spindle, we fear, is rarely recognized as such, but gets
confused with Buckthorn and Dogwood. In October, however, its quaint
fruits have changed to a pale crimson hue, which renders them the most
conspicuous feature of a hedgerow--even of one plentifully decorated
with scarlet hips and haws and bryony-berries. The unusual tint of the
Spindle, and the fact that it swings on a slender stalk, at once mark it
out from the rigid-stalked hips and haws.
The trunk of the Spindle is clothed in smooth grey bark. The twigs,
which are in pairs, starting from opposite sides of a branch, are
four-angled. The shining leaves vary from egg-shaped to lance-shaped,
with finely-toothed edges. They are arranged in pairs, and in autumn
they change to yellow and red. When bruised they give off a f[oe]tid
odour, the juice is acrid, and said to be poisonous--a charge which is
laid against the bark, flowers, and seed as well. The small
greenish-white flowers are borne in loose clusters, of the type known as
cymes, from the axils of the leaves, and appear in May and June. Some
contain both stamens and pistil, but others are either stamenate _or_
pistillate. The calyx is cut into four or six parts, the petals and
stamens agree with these parts in number, but the lobes of the stigma
only range from three to five, corresponding with the cells of the
ovary. The fruit is deeply lobed, and marked with grooves, indicating
the lines of future division, when the lobes open and disclose the
seeds, at first covered with their orange jackets, or _arils_, after the
manner of the mace that encloses the nutmeg.
[Illustration: _Pl. 86._ Flowers of Spindle.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 87._ Fruits of Spindle-tree.]
[Illustration: Spindle-tree. A, flowers.]
The hardness and toughness of Spindle-wood has long been esteemed in the
fashioning of small wares where these qualities are essential, and the
common name is a survival of the days when spinning was the occupation
of every woman. Then spindles were in demand for winding the spun thread
upon, and no wood was more suitable than that of Euonymus for making
them. It shares with the Cornel (_Cornus sanguinea_) the name Dogwood;
it is also Skewerwood, Prickwood, and Pegwood, all suggestive of uses to
which it is or was applied. The young shoots make a very fine charcoal
for artists' use.
The Spindle is indigenous throughout our islands, but cannot be said to
be generally common; it is rarer in Scotland and Ireland than in
England.
Among the exotic species cultivated in our parks and gardens are the
handsome variegated forms of the Evergreen Spindle (_Euonymus
japonicus_) of China and Japan, and the Broad-leaved Spindle (_E.
latifolius_) from Europe.
The Buckthorns (_Rhamnus_).
Our two native species of Buckthorn are shrubs of from five to ten feet
in height. In this one respect they agree; in almost all others they
differ. Both are Buckthorns in name, but the Breaking Buckthorn
(_Rhamnus frangula_) is quite unarmed, whilst many of the branchlets of
the Purging Buckthorn (_Rhamnus catharticus_) are hardened into spines.
The Purging Buckthorn is distinguished by its stiff habit, and by some
of the leaves being gathered into bundles at the ends of the shoots. The
leaves are egg-shaped, with toothed edges, and of a yellowish-green
tint, with short leaf-stalks. The yellowish-green flowers are very
small, and will be found both singly and in clusters from the
leaf-axils. There are a four-cleft calyx, four petals, four stamens, or
four stigmas, for the sexes are usually on separate plants. The fruit is
black, round, and about a quarter of an inch across, containing four
stones. These so-called "berries" are ripe in September. Formerly they
were much used as a purging medicine, but of so violent a character that
their use has come to be discouraged, and the safer syrup of Buckthorn
is prescribed instead. The juice of these berries is the raw material
from which the artist's sap-green is prepared. It may be found in woods,
thick hedgerows, and bushy places on commons southward of Westmoreland,
showing a decided preference for chalky soils. In Ireland it only occurs
rarely.
[Illustration: _Pl. 88._ Breaking Buckthorn.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 89._ Fruits of Purging Buckthorn.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 90._ Fruits of Breaking Buckthorn.]
[Illustration: Purging Buckthorn. A, flowers.]
The Breaking Buckthorn (_Rhamnus frangula_) is also known as the
Berry-bearing Alder, its leaves, with their lateral veins, presenting
something of the appearance of the Alder. Its more slender stems are
purplish-brown in hue, and _all_ the leaves are arranged alternately up
the stems. The leaves further differ from those of _R. catharticus_ in
having plain, un-toothed edges, and their veins parallel one to another.
The flowers are similar in size to those of the other species, but are
whiter, less yellow, fewer in number, and on longer stalks. The parts of
the flower, too, are in fives instead of fours; and the "berry," though
similar to the previous species, is much larger (half-inch diameter). In
an unripe condition these fruits yield a good green dye, much used by
calico printers and others. The wood made into charcoal is said to be
the best for the purposes of the gunpowder makers, who know it by the
name of Black Dogwood. The straight shoots of both species are used for
forming walking and umbrella sticks, and those of longer growth for pea
and bean sticks.
The Brimstone butterfly (_Gonepteryx rhamni_) lays its eggs on the
leaves of _R. frangula_, upon which the larva feeds. The name Buckthorn
appears to be due to an ancient misunderstanding of the German name
Buxdorn, which should have been translated Box-thorn.
Wild Plums (_Prunus communis_).
With the single exception of the Hazel, all our native fruit-trees are
members of the extensive and beautiful Rose family. Before Roman
invasions brought improved and cultivated varieties, our "rude
forefathers" must have been glad to eat the Sloes, Crabs, and Wild
Cherries that are now regarded as too terribly crude and austere, in an
uncooked condition, for any stomach but that of the natural boy, which
appears capable of surviving any ill-treatment. Some authors have
regarded the Wild Plum and the Bullace as being specifically distinct
from the Sloe and from each other; but the modern view is that their
differences only entitle them to rank as sub-species of the Sloe, and as
such they will be regarded here.
[Illustration: _Pl. 91._ Flowers of Wild Plum.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 92._ Sloes.]
[Illustration: _Pl. 93._ Blackthorn--spring.]
[Illustration: Blackthorn. A, flowers.]