CHAPTER VII.

DRAPERY FOR TREES AND BUSHES.

[Illustration]

The numerous hardy climbers which we possess are very rarely seen to

advantage, owing to their being stiffly trained against walls. Indeed,

the greater number of hardy climbers have gone out of cultivation

mainly for this reason. One of the happiest of all ways of using them

is that of training them in a free manner over trees; in this way

many beautiful effects may be secured. Established trees have usually

exhausted the ground near their base, which may, however, afford

nutriment to a hardy climbing shrub. In some low trees the graceful

companion may garland their heads; in tall ones the stem only may at

first be adorned. But some vigorous climbers could in time ascend the

tallest trees, and there can be nothing more beautiful than a veil of

such a one as Clematis montana suspended from the branch of a tall

tree. A whole host of lovely plants may be seen to great advantage in

this way, apart from the well–known and popular climbing plants. There

are, for example, many species of Clematis which have never come into

cultivation, but which are quite as beautiful as any climbers. The same

may be said of the Honeysuckles, wild Vines, and various other families

of which the names may be found in catalogues. Much of the northern

tree and shrub world is garlanded with creepers, which may be grown in

similar ways, as, for example, on banks and in hedgerows. The trees in

our pleasure–grounds, however, have the first claim on our attention

in planting garlands. There would seldom be need to fear injury to

established trees.

[Illustration: Large White Clematis on Yew tree at Great Tew. (C.

montana grandiflora.)]

Some time ago I saw a Weeping Willow, on the margin of a lake, that had

its trunk clothed with Virginian Creeper, and the effect in autumn,

when the sun shone through the drooping branches of the Willow—whose

leaves were just becoming tinged with gold—upon the crimson of the

creeper–covered trunk was very fine. The Hop is a very effective plant

for draping a thin specimen Arbor–vitæ, or Yew tree, but the shoots

should be thinned out in spring, and not more than three or four

allowed to climb up to the tree. When the leader emerges from the top

of the bush, and throws its long, graceful wreaths of Hops over the

dark green foliage, the contrast is most effective. The Wistaria, if

planted before its support has become old, will combine with excellent

effect with any single specimen of not too dense a habit.

[Illustration: The way the climbing plants of the world are crucified

in gardens—winter effect (_a faithful sketch_).]

A correspondent, who has added largely to the charms of a place in

Suffolk by means of the wild garden, writes as follows:—“Some time ago

I discovered and had removed from the woods to the pleasure–grounds a

robust round–headed Holly tree, which had been taken entire possession

of by a wild Honeysuckle, which, originating at the root of the tree,

had scrambled up through the branches to the top, and there, extending

itself in all directions, had formed a large head and hung in festoons

all round—a highly ornamental object indeed. The Holly had endured the

subjection for many years, and still seemed to put forth sufficient

shoots and leaves annually to ensure a steady support to its climbing

companion. The birds also had discovered that the dense and tangled

thicket created by the Honeysuckle was a suitable home for their

young, for inside of it was a regular settlement of nests of various

kinds; and, since the tree has been moved it has been taken complete

possession of again by the bird tribe.” The Honeysuckle in question is

an example of what might be done with such handsome and free growing

climbers and scrambling Roses. What could be more effective, for

instance, than a lofty tree–like mass of the purple and white Clematis

mixed, or either of these alone, or, better still, a gigantic head of

Roses? I throw out these hints for those who choose to act upon them.

Draped trees, such as I have described, may soon be had. I do not know

that a better tree than the Holly could be selected for a support.

Where the trees are not in the place in which they are wanted, they

should be moved about the end of August to the desired situation, and

if some good rich soil—loam and decayed manure—is furnished to the

roots at the same time, it will be in proper condition for climbers in

spring. The latter should be planted pretty closely to the stem of the

tree, and a start should be made with good vigorous plants, whether of

Honeysuckle, Roses, or Clematis. The Roses and other things will want a

little leading off at first till they get hold of their supporters, but

afterwards no pruning or interference should be attempted.

[Illustration: Climbing shrub (Celastrus), isolated on the grass; way

of growing woody Climbers away from walls or other supports.]

Mr. Hovey, in a letter from Boston, Mass., wrote as follows, on certain

interesting aspects of tree drapery:— Some ten or fifteen years ago we

had occasion to plant three or four rows of popular climbers in nursery

rows, about 100 feet long; these consisted of the Virginian creeper,

the Moonseed (Menispermum), Periploca græca, and Celastrus scandens;

subsequently, it happened accidentally that four rows of rather large

Tartarian (so–called) Arbor–vitæs were planted on one side, and about

the same number of rows of Smoke trees, Philadelphus, and Cornus

florida, on the other. For three or four years many of these climbers

were taken up annually until rather too old to remove, and year by

year the Arbor–vitæs and shrubs were thinned out until what were too

large to safely transplant remained. But the land was not wanted then,

and the few scattered trees and climbers grew on while cultivation was

partially neglected, a large specimen being occasionally taken out

until the climbers had fairly taken possession of the trees, and are

now too beautiful to disturb. It forms the most unique specimen of tree

drapery I have ever seen. Some of the Arbor–vitæs are entirely overrun

with the Moonseed (Menispermum), whose large, slightly–scalloped leaves

overlap one another from the ground to the top like slates on a roof.

Over others, the gloomy leaves of the Periploca scramble, and also the

Celastrus, and on still others the deep green leaves of the Ampelopsis

completely festoon the tree; of some trees all four and other climbers

have taken possession; and from among the tops of the Sumach the

feathery tendrils of the Ampelopsis, and, just now, its deep blue

berries hold full sway. And these are not all. The Apios tuberosa is

indigenous, and springs up everywhere as soon as our land is neglected.

This has also overrun several trees, and coils up and wreaths each

outstretching branch with its little bunches of fragrant brownish

coloured flowers. It is the Arbor–vitæs which give the peculiar beauty

of this description of tree drapery. On the deciduous trees the new

growth lengthens rapidly, and the branches soon get far apart; but with

Arbor–vitæs, which always present a round compact head, the effect is

entirely different; they are covered so densely that it is impossible,

in some instances, to say what the tree is that supports the climbers.

One Hemlock Spruce (Abies canadensis) has every branch loaded with

the Apios and profuse with blossoms; but this one sees happen with

other trees. The Smoke tree looks interesting just now, while its

flowers are fresh, but soon they will fade, and the dry tops will be a

disadvantage; but the Arbor–vitæ will remain clothed with the foliage,

flowers, and berries too, of the Celastrus until the autumn frosts have

shorn them of their beauty, and no falling leaves are scattered around.

The Arbor–vitæ is the tree I would recommend when it is desirable to

produce such effects as I have described. When such strong–growing

climbers as Begonias and Wistarias take possession of a shrub they

generally injure it; but the very slender stems of Menispermum and

Apios die entirely to the ground after the first sharp frost, and the

slender stems of the others do not appear to arrest the growth of the

Arbor–vitæs, which are restored when the climbers are down, and, after

full eight months’ rest, are again ready to aid in sustaining their

more dependent companions. The Honeysuckle, the Clematis, and similar

plants might, no doubt, be added to the list, and give more variety,

as well as fragrance and beauty, but I have only detailed the effects

of what has been done, leaving what might be effected for some future

trial.

[Illustration: A Liane in the North. Aristolochia and Deciduous

Cypress.]

But the noblest kind of climbers forming drapery for trees are not

so often seen as some of the general favourites mentioned above. A

neglected group are the wild Vines, plants of the highest beauty, and

which, if allowed to spring through the tall trees, which they would

quickly do, would soon charm by their bold grace. Some of them are

fine in colour of foliage in autumn. With these might be associated,

though not so fine in form, certain free–growing species of Ampelopsis,

grown in some nurseries. The Wistaria is also well worth growing on

trees, in districts where it flowers freely away from walls. In

visiting the garden of MM. Van Eden, at Haarlem, I was surprised to

see a Liane, in the shape of the well–known Aristolochia or Dutchman’s

Pipe, which had clambered high into a fine old deciduous Cypress. Being

much interested in this long–established companionship, I was able to

procure, through the kindness of Messrs. Van Eden, photographs of the

tree and its Liane, from which this illustration was engraved. When I

saw it early in spring the leaves had not appeared on either the tree

or its companion, and the effect of the old rope–like stems was very

picturesque. The Aristolochia ascends to a height of 35 ft. 6 in. on

the tree.

The tree was a superb specimen, and was not in the least injured

by the growth of the climber. What a beautiful effect a graceful

flowering climber would afford in a similar case! Imagine one of the

white–flowered Clematis (which may be seen as many as over forty feet

in height under suitable conditions) garlanding such a tree, or any

tree, with wreaths of fragrant blossoms. Strange and lovely aspects of

vegetation may be created in our pleasure–grounds by the judicious use

of these climbers, varying according to the trees and their position,

and also as to their being evergreen or summer–leafing. Even where one

might fear to injure a valuable tree by a vigorous climber, trees may

easily be found of little value, and much may be done even with the old

or dead trees.

[Illustration: A beautiful accident.—A colony of Myrrhis odorata,

established in shrubbery, with white Harebells here and there. (See p.

60.)]

The Wild Garden Or Our Groves and Gardens Made Beautiful by the Naturalisation of Hardy Exotic Plants; Being One Way Onwards from the Dark Ages · 第 7 / 15 章