Mr Monteath states that Scots fir should not be thinned to greater

distance than 20 feet apart, and larch 15 feet. This shews very little

consideration: the distance apart necessary for these kinds of timber,

and of all other kinds, must be relative to the soil, situation and

climate, and the intentions of the owner, whether he means to bring

them soon to {152} market, or carry them forward to great timber.

When fir trees are intended to be early cut down, or when disease in

larch from unfitness of soil may be apprehended, as it is thence of

small consequence though their future ability to become great timber

be destroyed by closeness, the plants should be retained pretty near

each other from the first, that the timber may be tall, straight, and

clean. On the other hand, when the soil is suitable and great timber

intended, early attention to thinning and great openness from the

first is absolutely necessary, as they (the firs), different from

other trees, can never repair the loss of their lower branches by

throwing out new ones from the naked stem; and double the distance

stated by Mr Monteath at least for larch, which, instead of less, needs

more space than Scots fir, will be required. We believe the decay of

Scots fir, occurring so generally at about 40 years of age, although

also dependent on inferior variety and kiln-drying of cones, arises

principally from want of timely thinning; that is, that the infirm

variety of Scots fir in common use, when supported by numerous feeders,

and not weakened by being drawn up into a tall slender stem, will often

have hardihood to continue growing, and acquire considerable size in

our cold, wet, moorish tills, or even in our moorish {153} sandy

flats. Many casualties will, however, occur among resinous trees[37],

especially in unsuitable soil, even when the plants rise from the seed

naturally sown, and have sufficient room for lateral expansion. The

same cause, viz. closeness or want of thinning, induces early maturity,

old age and decay in larch, although it does not seem to have any

influence, either as inducement to, or prevention of, the rot. We have

heard men,—even men reasonable on other subjects—speak of allowing a

pine wood to thin itself: as well might a farmer speak of allowing his

turnip field to thin itself. When woods are planted of various kinds

of timber, the stronger, larger growing kinds will sometimes acquire

room by overwhelming the smaller: but when the forest is of one kind

of tree, and too close, all suffer nearly alike, and follow each other

fast in decay, as their various strength of constitution gives way;

unless, from some negligence or defect in planting, a portion of the

plants have come away quickly, and the others hung back sickly for

several years, so that {154} the former might master the latter:

or when some strong growing variety overtops its congeners. In the

natural forest of America, when a clearance by any means is effected,

the young seedlings, generally all of one kind, spring up so numerous,

that, choaking each other, they all die together in a few years. This

close springing up and dying is sometimes repeated several times over;

different kinds of trees rising in succession, till the seeds in the

soil be so reduced as to throw up plants so far asunder as to afford

better opportunity for the larger growing varieties to develope their

strength; and, overpowering the less, thus acquire spread of branches

commensurate to the height, and thence strength of constitution

sufficient to bear them forward to large trees.

Mr Monteath, apparently to encourage the destruction of young oak, and

keep his merciless hatchet agoing, asserts that “oak trees, at the age

of 24 or not exceeding 30 years, have as thick a rind or fleshy part

of bark, as when they arrive at 50.” If by this he means to say, that

the useful part of the oak bark of the stem of a tree at 50 years old

is no thicker than that of one of 30, we say he is wrong, widely wrong.

A thriving oak tree of 100 years will still continue to increase the

thickness of the valuable part of the bark on the stem, although part

of the {155} outer layers or cuticle may lose vitality, and become

_corky_. We have taken down a luxuriant growing oak, exceeding three

feet in diameter, the living bark of whose stem was about two inches

in thickness, resembling thick plank, and which was considered by the

tanners much stronger in quality than bark of younger growth. Has Mr

Monteath seen any bark resembling this on 24 years old sproutings? If,

by the above quotation, our author means to say, that the valuable

part of the bark on the branches of a tree 30 years old, is equal in

thickness to that on the same sized branches of a tree at 50, we say he

errs still; that is, provided the older tree be in a healthy thriving

condition, and growing equally open and exposed as the younger. Trees,

as they increase in years, increase also in the thickness of the living

bark, from the root upwards to the smallest twig, provided they have

not begun to get dry and sickly from over maturity. When this period

arrives, the living part of the bark upon the stem and larger branches

becomes very thin, with a great proportion of dead corky substance;

although, on the twigs and smaller branches, it still continues to

thicken. The age at which the external part of the bark begins to lose

vitality, is considerably dependant upon luxuriance of growth, climate,

and exposure; and the {156} period when this loss proceeds faster than

the annual increase within, is altogether dependent on the vigour of

the tree, not on the age, and never takes place till the timber is ripe

for the dock-yard.

We would warn the readers of Mr Monteath’s volume, that his

calculations and statements regarding the worth of coppice and timber

generally, seem more suited to flatter the owner’s wishes than to be

useful to him as a merchant; or to be adjusted to the value of money

during the late war—not to the present value. We also do not very well

comprehend his re-establishment or resuscitation of life in dead trees.

We observe several other slight errors, such as the duration of his

paling,—and the affirmation that the sap-wood will not extend so as to

cover over the section of a pruned branch which contains any red or

matured wood. Most readers will be able to detect such errors as these.

In taking leave of Mr Monteath’s volume, we would offer our

acknowledgment for the attention he has bestowed on the subject of the

seasoning of timber, by steaming with extract of wood (pyroligneous

acid) and by scorching, as prevention of dry rot. The greatest

objection we see to his plan is, that all timber dried quickly is

liable to crack and split, and loses a considerable portion of its

{157} toughness and elasticity; at least, timber when dried slowly is

harder and stronger than when dried quickly, the dryness in both cases

being carried to the same extent. The comparative strength of timber

scorched and timber not scorched, after both are soaked in water, as

in the lower timbers and plank of vessels, should be subjected to

experiment.

Our author’s directions (although the practice is also not new) to

season larch by peeling off the bark one or more years previous to

cutting, in order to prevent it from warping or twisting in framed

housework; and his hints recommending stripping off the bark from

most kinds of timber a season previous to cutting, are also deserving

of notice. We greatly wonder that something efficacious has not been

done in regard to dry rot by our Navy Board, and consider the subject

of such importance, that we think a rot-prevention officer or wood

physician should be appointed to each war vessel from the time her

first timber is laid down, to be made in some shape accountable if

rot to any extent should ever occur; and that this officer should be

regularly bred to his profession at an institution established for the

study of this branch of science at the King’s largest building yard.

Perhaps it might be as well to endow several professors’ chairs at the

universities to follow {158} out and lecture on this science, as being

of far more importance than many which are already endowed. We think

that steeping in fresh water pits for several years, till a kind of

acetous fermentation take place in the timber, or till it become of a

blue colour; or in tan-pits; or for a shorter period in strong brine

pits; or even salting the timber like herrings, after it is blocked

out; or forcing pyroligneous acid, or composition of chlorine, or

other solution, antiseptic or obnoxious to life, into the pores of the

timber when dry, by pressure; or perhaps by charring the timbers after

they are cleaned down on the stocks ready for the plank, by playing on

them a jet of flame from a flexible gas pipe,—might, some of them, be

found preventive of the rot, and at same time not to impair any of the

valuable qualities of the timber.

We are a little shy in committing ourselves, lest we should be

impressed as a dry-rot physician or professor; but if the following

plan for preservation of vessels when unemployed has not already been

tried, we recommend it to the notice of our Navy Board.

Let every part of the vessel be cleared out, and every port-hole or

external opening be made as air-tight as possible.

Let a quantity of recent-burned limestone {159} (lime-shells) be

spread thin over every inside deck or floor, and over the whole bottom

and sides of the vessel, and every door or hatch in the main-deck be

immediately closed down air-tight. A number of rods or shreds of timber

would require to be nailed slightly to the inside skin of the ship

where the slope is considerable, in order that the lime-shells may rest

and not roll down.

As soon as it is found that the lime-shells are completely

slaked—become hydrate of lime—let it be sold to the farmer or

house-builder, or be used in any government erection going forward at

the time; and let another quantity be laid in. We would consider a

sloop of 80 tons load of lime, value, prime cost and freight, about

L.70, would suffice for covering the internal surface of a seventy-four

gun ship. When slaked to powder, the lime might be disposed of at

little loss. It is impossible, without trial, to say how often the

lime would require renewal, but we think twice or thrice a-year would

suffice to preserve the vessel dry and free of any corruption; perhaps

even once might be found effectual. Suppose that the lime was renewed

every four months, and that when slaked it only sold at two-thirds of

the whole cost, the preservation of a line-of-battle ship would be

nearly as follows. The price of the lime {160} and work is correct,

according to the rates in most of the harbours of Scotland.

A quantity of rods or shreds of timber, about three inches

in diameter, for nailing on the sloping sides of the vessel,

material and labour, L.20 0 0

Eighty tons lime-shells = 560 bolls, at 1s. 7d.

per boll, prime cost, 44 6 8

Freight of 560 bolls, at 1s. 28 0 0

The slaked lime is supposed to sell at 2-3ds

of the cost, thence the whole loss on a year

would equal the value of one cargo.

Carrying three lime cargoes of shells aboard,

and spreading them, 30 0 0

We allow here for the greater distance of

carriage, and spreading out of the cargo,

nearly thrice the sum requisite to remove

lime-shells from a vessel into a cart.

Removing the slaked lime of three cargoes, 30 0 0

―――――――――――

Cost first year, L.152 6 8

Deduct rods, 20 0 0

―――――――――――

Cost, second, and each following year, L.132 6 8

The complete efficacy of lime-shells in preventing dry-rot is already

proved—the coasting small craft frequently employed in the carriage

of lime-shells not being liable to it. All that requires to be

ascertained, is the minimum quantity which will effect it; and if

the expense of this quantity will greatly exceed the average loss by

dry-rot in our unemployed {161} shipping. If the quantity necessary be

not greater than what we have supposed—even Mr Hume himself would not

consider the expense extravagant—the preservation of a line-of-battle

ship not exceeding that of one of our numerous army _captains_ while

lying _in ordinary_.

Lime is preventive of dry-rot in several ways,—when uncombined as an

antiseptic, simply by drying, from its attraction for water; by its

causticity, which remains for a number of months after it is slaked,

destroying organic life; and by its absorbing putrescent gases. It is

not easy, without trial, to form a correct estimate of the quantity of

moisture which would enter through the inside planking of a man-of-war;

but were the bottom of the vessel in good condition, the pumps attended

to, and external air excluded, we should consider that the moisture

would not greatly exceed 60 tons of water yearly, which would nearly

be required to convert 240 tons of lime-shells into dry hydrate of

lime. No very great injury or inconvenience would be produced by the

opening of the seams of the ceiling (the inside skin), or of the inner

decks or floors, or by the warping of the plank, resulting from the

contraction of the timber by the dryness; but the caulking of the main

deck would require to be looked to. {162} No danger from fire need be

apprehended, from the sudden slaking of a thin layer of shells, even

though a leak in the main deck should occur. The thickness beyond which

shells could not be suddenly slaked upon dry boards without danger of

fire, might be tried.

It is necessary to mention, that, though lime-shells, or dry hydrate of

lime, when timber is so dry as to be liable to corruption by insects

or by dry rot, is, by destroying life and increasing the dryness,

preventive of this corruption; yet lime, in contact with timber for

a considerable time in very moist air, from its great attraction to

water, draws so much moisture from the air as to become wet mortar or

pulp, which, moistening the timber, promotes its decay by the moist

rot.

{163} II.—NICOL’S PLANTER’S CALENDAR.

This volume, which ought to have been named Sang’s Nurseryman’s

Calendar, is a work of very considerable merit and usefulness, where

the craft of the common nurseryman is plainly and judiciously taught.

The editor, Mr Sang, admits that he was very little indebted to the

notes of his friend (the late Mr Nicol) for the matter of the volume;

and the work itself bears evidence of this, being principally devoted

to the operations of the nursery, the sowing and planting of hard-wood

trees, which are described with a judgment and accuracy attainable

only by long experience in that line, to which we understand Mr Sang

belongs. Every person engaged with the sowing, planting, or rearing of

timber, if he be not too wise or too old to learn, should forthwith

procure this volume.

Mr Sang recommends sowing of forests in preference to planting, which

many before him have done, we believe, more from conjecture that

nature’s own process must be superior to any method of art, than from

any experience of the fact or accurate {164} knowledge of—at least

without giving sufficient explanation of, any cause rendering the

tree of more puny growth in consequence of being transplanted. In

the case of simple herbaceous vegetables, we find, on the contrary,

that transplanting increases the size, protracts the period of full

development, and retards the decay, the individual suffering no lasting

injury from root fracture, or that injury being more than compensated

by change to a new and more recently wrought soil; or even the root

fracture, instead of being of prejudice to the growth, by throwing the

energy of the plant in this direction to repair the injury, not only

may do so, but delaying the superior process towards reproduction[38],

may also give a {165} new vigour to the soft fibrous rootlets,

and greater extension than they otherwise would have attained.

But in regard to some kinds of compound plants of perennial stem,

transplanting, especially when the plant has attained some size, by

fracture, throws the main wide diverging roots into numerous rootlets

and slender matted fibres, none of which has individual strength to

extend as a leader far beyond the shade of the spreading top, thence

forage in a drier, more exhausted soil, and, from consequent want of

supply of moisture, the sap of the tree stagnates into flower, or

merely leaf-buds, instead of flowing out into new wood. The fibrous

softer rooting vegetables sustain no lasting injury from root-fracture

and transplanting; but the harder, more woody, larger growing roots,

losing their leader, never entirely recover their original power of

extention. Yet we think that one or two year old plants, taken from

the seed-bed, would suffer little or no injury from removal, as the

_tap-root_, which is ultimately of no consequence, never constituting

a leader, but eventually {166} disappearing, is the only part which

suffers fracture in the woody state; and the side shoots, which become

the grand root leaders, are in the fibrous state, which easily repairs

small injury. These observations refer only to certain kinds of timber

trees. The willows, poplars, and lindens, succeed better when their

roots are cropped in near the bulb when removed. We planted a piece of

trenched ground, partly with poplar plants, with good roots, from a

nursery, and partly with poplar loppings, about the same size as the

plants, stuck into the ground: the loppings grew more luxuriantly than

the nursery plants. The same occurs with willows—with this difference,

that willow-loppings do better with the top entirely cropped, without

any twigs or external buds; the poplar only pruned a little, with

a terminal bud left on every twig, especially on the top shoot.

The superiority of the growth of those without roots, results from

their having fewer buds and twigs to exhaust the juices before the

formation of new fibrils to draw from the ground, these few buds thence

continuing to push more strongly, and from the roots growing more

vigorously when sprung anew, than when they are a continuation of the

wounded deranged old ones.

New rootlets spring out much sooner and more {167} boldly from the

thick vigorous green stem bark, than from the delicate tender root

bark, and also more vigorously from the bark of the bulb than from

the bark of the remote roots, of those soft-wooded trees; indeed, it

appears to be owing alone to the great strength of the vitality of the

bark of the stem, that those kinds are so capable of continuation by

cuttings. The roots have nearly the same delicacy of those of other

kinds of trees, and show no particular readiness to throw up sprouts

when bared.

Mr Sang, in furtherance of his advocated scheme of raising forests

_in situ_ from the seed, sensible of the general impracticability of

fallowing or working the ground all over previous to sowing, gives

directions for pitting or stirring the earth the previous spring and

summer, in spots about fourteen inches square, and from six to nine

feet separate, burying the turf under the soil, in order that it may be

rotted, and a fine friable mould obtained for reception of the seeds to

be sown the following spring; several seeds are then deposited in each

spot, equidistant; these require to be hand-weeded the first season,

and the resulting plants hoed around for several successive years, till

they have mastered the weeds, after which they are all plucked out but

one (the most promising) in each spot. This is all very well, {168} if

we could have patience and assiduity to proceed thus systematically;

and if the mice, birds, and other enemies, would “let them be;” but

although this plan, when a braird is obtained, and the tufts cleaned,

and seasonably thinned, is probably the best, yet landlords, in general

incapable of exertion, but under the excitement of a fresh thought, are

so infirm of purpose; tenure of life and property are so precarious;

and trusted servants, especially when the procedure has originated

with another, are so liable to be negligent, that our amateurs ought

to gratify their passion for improvement while it lasts, and proceed

at once by purchase of plants, and pitting or slitting, which procures

them a forest immediately palpable to view. There is no doubt, however,

that wooing the soil to kindliness, rearing the infant plant from the

germ, and superintending _a principio_ the entire beautiful process of

vegetable development, will afford a deeper charm to a patient lover

of nature; and that the continued solicitude and attentions required

during this process acting upon man’s parental instinct, will excite an

interest hardly to be felt towards a child of adoption.

A nursery gives such facility to the rearing of the plants, that,

taking into account the greater chance of failure by sowing _in situ_

than by planting, the {169} latter practice will be executed for one

half the expense of the former. Supposing that the progress, after

twenty years’ occupancy of the ground, be equal in both cases,—at

which period, however, we think the transplanted would still have

the advantage,—it would require a considerable ultimate superior

progress in those sown, to outbalance the accumulating value of the

extra expense. It is probable a combination of both practices might be

advantageously followed—sowing the soils and situations most suitable,

and transplanting the thinnings of these into the more exposed

unpropitious places[39]. The matter, however, must, after all, be left

to the test of experiment in a variety of soils and situations.

This volume, being principally a monthly detail of a nursery practice,

which has supported the test of competition, has, on this account, a

very different credit and value from much that has been published of

landlords’ practice, theorists’ conjectures, or adventurers’ quackery.

The burthen of our author’s song, which, from the nature of the work,

falls to be repeated at several of the calendary periods, and which

perhaps cannot be too often repeated, is nearly as follows.

Procure good seed of the best varieties from large healthy trees,

and preserve these in husk in dry {170} well-aired places till

sowing; with the exception of ash keys, haws, holly-berries, roans,

and yew-berries, which require to be put in the rot-heap as soon as

gathered. The rot-heap consists of seed mixed with sandy earth formed

into a layer not exceeding ten inches in thickness; this is turned

several times before midwinter, when it is covered with a layer of

earth about seven inches deep, to exclude the frost. After remaining

in this heap one year—till September, or the following February, these

seeds are sown out.

Sow seeds of trees during the last half of February, March, or April,

on beds of high manured easy soil, in very fine tilth, and clear of

weeds, such as follows hoed green crop, in distance and depth in

proportion to the size of the seed, or rather of the annual stem or

braird. To deposit the seed at an equable depth, the upper friable

mould is pushed (cuffed) off the bed to the interstices between by

the reversed head of a rake, as deep as necessary; the seed is then

deposited by the hand, and rolled over by a very light roller to fix

it, that it may not suffer derangement by the return of the earth which

is then evenly _cuffed_ back from the sides, and no harrowing or raking

given.

Watch most narrowly, and ward off or destroy all {171} kinds of

vermin, mice, snails, birds, till the time when the rising braird has

disencumbered itself of the husk of the seed thrown up by the ascending

stem, and nip out every weed as soon as discernible by the naked eye.

In order to diminish the toil of watching, the different kinds should

be sown as near the same time as their nature renders prudent, and the

seed-beds be situated as near each other as circumstances will admit.

At the end of the first or second season, according to size and

closeness of plants, remove the seedlings from the bed to nursery rows,

at any time when the leaf is off, and the ground sufficiently dry

not to poach; before April for deciduous trees, and during April for

evergreens, placing them in rather open order, either by dibbling or

laying, according to the nature of the root, firming the plants well in

the ground; in case of dibbling, taking good heed to leave no vacuum of

hole under the root, and to work the tool so as to compress the earth

more below than above.

Keep the soil loose and friable on the surface, and clear of weeds

between the transplanted rows by repeated seasonable hoeings, and let

the plants rise with a single leader.

After the plants have stood one or two years in {172} the nursery-row,

remove them to their ultimate destination with as little fracture or

exposure of root as possible,—the larger rooted by pitting, and the

smaller by slitting, or as the nature of the soil may require; paying

most particular attention to plant the dry ground early after the leaf

has dropped, and the moister and more adhesive soils in succession, as

they become so dry in spring as not to adhere to the tools in working,

or poach in treading the plant firm in; removing the evergreens

earlier, or later, in April, according to the dryness or moistness of

the ground; dipping the roots in a clay-puddle, and endeavouring to

seize the opportunity of planting before a shower, should the spring be

far advanced and dry, especially in the more arid situations.

Stout healthy seedlings, one or two years old, may be at once removed

from the seed-bed to their place in the forest, and will often succeed

as well as when nursed in rows, as above.———We have preferred the

pick of the seedlings to the common run of the transplanted, as being

probably stronger growing varieties.

In cases where it is practicable, work over the new plantations for

several years with crops of potatoes, turnips, lettuce, &c., manuring

the ground, if {173} possible; and then sow out with perennial

rye-grass and white clover, if the trees are not become a close cover,

making economical use of the grass as early in the season as it can be

mowed with a short scythe.

For seeds that require to lie a season in the rot-heap, such as ash

keys, haws, &c. September-sowing is preferable to deferring it to the

following spring, as they are liable to chip in the heap. If not sown

in September, they must be got in as soon in February as possible.

Acorns, Spanish and Horse Chestnuts, are best sown when they drop from

the tree; but when the seed is not procured till spring, the sowing

ought not to be deferred beyond February and March. The best soil is a

deep rich loam.

Elm-seed may be sown in June, when it is new from the tree, or

carefully dried and kept over season till next spring; one-half may

then be sown in March, and the other in April, as the March-sown is

sometimes injured by late frosts. The utmost care is required to

prevent this seed from heating when newly gathered.

Beech braird is also liable to be cut off by spring frost; the seed

should therefore be sown partly in March and partly in April, to

diminish the chance {174} of entire failure. The soil requires to be

rich, and is benefited by a dressing of well-made manure previous to

sowing.

Sycamore Plane braird also suffers by late frost, and for greater

security ought also to be sown partly in March and partly in April.

Planes require dry, poor, rather exposed sandy soil, for seed-bed; as,

in rich damp soil, the top of the annual shoot does not ripen: the seed

ought to be thinly sown.

Birch and Alder seeds require to be sown in March, or beginning of

April, on very fine, rich, easy mould, giving them very slight cover,

especially the birch.

The Coniferæ, Scots Fir, Spruce, Silver Fir, &c. should be sown in

April, on very rich easy soil. The greatest care is required to deposit

these different seeds at proper regular depth, from an inch to the

fourth of an inch, in proportion to the size of the seed.

Larch should also be sown in April; it succeeds best on the clean

mellow ground which has produced a crop of seedling Scots fir. It is

worthy of remark, that the larch seedlings and row-plants are liable to

die under a putrescent disease, when much recent manure is employed.—We

remark this accordance with its tendency to putrid disease in after

life. {175}

Acorns, Chestnuts, and other large seeds, may be economically sown

in drill: where the soil contains much annual weed seed, this admits

of expeditious cleaning by the hoe. Ground which has borne a crop of

potatoes the preceding season, is unfit for seed-beds, as the tubers

and seed of the potato give much trouble.

These are the chief of Mr Sang’s directions on raising timber-plants.

With the exception of kiln-drying of cones, and being rather too

prodigal of manure to the seed-beds (perhaps necessary in a sale

nursery), we see nothing in the volume to censure.—A premium should be

offered for a convenient plan of distributing fir-seed suitably in the

seed-bed, without the aid of artificial drying.

It is perhaps unnecessary to state, that, in the culture of trees,

there are thousands of incidental circumstances to which general

directions will not apply, and which demand a discriminating judgment

in the operator: this acts as a school to the mental acumen; and there

is no class of operative men, which has the faculties of attention,

activity, discrimination, and judgment, more developed, than nurserymen

and gardeners,—whose diversified labours, requiring, at the same time,

constant mental and corporeal exertion, keep up a proper balance of the

human powers. {176}

We leave to the judgment of the operator to proportion the thickness

of sowing of the different kinds of seed to the expected size of stem

and leaf, under regulation of soil, season, and quality of seed; and

to determine whether the plants may be continued more than one season

in the seed-bed, or be entirely or partly drawn the first, which

must depend on their luxuriance and closeness; also to notice if all

the seeds have vegetated the first season, or if many of them still

be inert; in the latter case, the seedlings must be picked out; to

facilitate which, the earth may be gently raised by a three-pronged

fork, with as little superficial disturbance as possible.

In nurseries, the great and general error is having the plants too

close together, particularly in the row. Every nursery-row plant should

be of a regular cone figure, with numerous side-branches down near to

the root, and gradually widening in the cone downwards. These would,

indeed, occupy more space of package, and probably not please the

ignorant purchaser, who generally prefers a clean, tall body; but they

would support the hardships of removal to the moor, and be stately

trees; when the comely, straight, slender plants would either have died

altogether, or have become miserable, unsightly skeletons, or stunted

bushes. {177}

In cases where plants are required of considerable size, for hedge-rows

or park-standards, it is matter of doubt, how far frequent removals in

nursery, or cutting of roots, is profitable. This occasions fibrous

matted roots, which tend much to the success of the ultimate removal,

and to the growth of the plant for several years after; but, by

checking the disposition the roots naturally have to extend by several

wide-diverging leaders, probably unfit the plant for becoming a large

tree.

Mr Sang remarks that sycamore planes and birch should not be pruned in

the latter part of the winter, as they bleed greatly at that season: we

have often noticed this as early as midwinter, which also occurs to the

maple tribe. Our author introduces the mountain-ash as a forest tree, a

rank it by no means merits, at least for value as a timber tree. When

exceeding six inches in diameter, it is generally rotted in the heart,

and is only valuable as a copse for affording pliant, tough rods; or

twigs, as a charm or fetiche against witchcraft! It is, however, one of

our most beautiful trees.

Mr Sang gives directions for kiln-drying fir cones previous to

thrashing out, or extracting the seeds. We have before adverted to

this, and would {178} particularly reprehend the practice. It is

difficult to determine how far early fruitfulness and consequent

infirmity of constitution, diminutiveness of size at maturity, and

early decay, may originate from kiln-drying the cones; but, from the

same process of drying in a less degree having been ascertained to

induce early seed-bearing in the case of other seeds, we may infer

almost to certainty, that the coniferæ of this country, not naturally

planted, are very materially injured by this practice.

It is of small consequence, in reference to the tree itself, at what

season deciduous trees are planted, provided they be naked of leaf,

and the ground not too dry, as they are not liable to lose much

by desiccation or evaporation by the bark alone, before the roots

strike anew in spring, and draw freely from the soil; and the skin of

the bulb, although the small rootlets be broken, sucks up moisture

from the damp soil to repair the loss by superior evaporation: but

evergreens—firs, hollies, laurels, yews, sometimes suffer by removal at

a time when the roots do not immediately strike, as in winter, owing

to the torpor from cold. We have often seen their juices exhausted,

and their leaves entirely withered, by a continuation of dry northerly

winds, the manifest cause of which {179} was the great superficial

exposure of the leaves evaporating faster than the fractured torpid

roots afforded supply. Therefore, although winter planting seldom

fails, yet it is perhaps better to seize the exact time in spring,

immediately before the roots commence to strike anew, before there is

any new top-growth, and while the soil and air remain somewhat moist

and cold, that the evaporation may not be too great. In this climate,

April is a good season for removing evergreens to the field, although,

to throw the work from the busy season, it is often practised in the

nursery in September, when their annual growths are completed, and

while there is yet warmth to enable the roots to strike anew; this,

however, is only advisable where the soil for their reception is in

the most favourable state, friable, and inclining to moist, or when

there is great indication of rain, and the air near the dew point. Of

course they require to be planted as soon as extracted. In winter or

spring, when it happens that evergreens must lie in the _shough_, the

most protected situation, where the air is moist and still, ought to

be chosen, and the earth carefully closed to their roots, which is

best done by watering, if rain be not expected; the stems and branches

should also lie as close to the ground as possible. {180}

There is appended to this valuable Planter’s Calendar a treatise on the

Formation and Management of Osier Plantations. As this will not bear

compression well, we refer our reader to the volume itself.

{181} III. BILLINGTON ON PLANTING.

We have perused Billington’s account of the management of the Royal

Forests with much profit; it affords us an excellent series of

experiments, shewing how much conduct and integrity may exist in

Government establishments, even although the strictest watch be _not_

kept over their motions by the nation itself. Words are awanting to

express our admiration of every thing connected with the management of

our misnamed Royal Wastes. We scarcely could have hoped to find such

pervading judgment and skill of calling, as have been displayed by the

Commissioners, and Surveyors General and Particular; but it is true,

the noble salaries attached to these situations must induce men of

the very first ability and knowledge of the subject, to accept of the

office.

Our author, Mr Billington, proceeds with great naiveté to relate how

they sowed and resowed acorns—how they planted and replanted trees,

persevering even to the fifth time, sometimes covering the roots, and

sometimes not, “but all would not avail,” nothing would do; the seeds

did not vegetate, and the {182} plants refused to grow, excepting in

some rare spots, and a few general stragglers. Then how the natural

richness of the soil threw up such a flush of vegetation—of grass,

and herbs, and shrubs, that most of these plants were buried under

this luxuriance; and how the mice and the emmets, and other wayfarers,

hearing, by the _bruit_ of fame, of the wise men who had the governing

of Dean, assembled from the uttermost ends of the island, expecting

a millennium in the forest, and ate up almost every plant which had

survived the smothering. Now, this is well; we rejoice over the natural

justice of the native and legitimate inhabitants of the Royal Domain,

the weeds mastering the invaders the plants, who, year after year, to

the amount of many millions, made hostile entrance into the forest. We

only deplore the cruel doom of the mice, on whose heads a price was

laid, and of the emmets, who, acting as allies of the native powers,

merited a better fate than indiscriminate slaughter.

May we hope that our Government will no longer persist in unprofitable

endeavours to turn cultivator, or to raise its own supply? We laugh at

the Pasha of Egypt becoming cotton-planter and merchant himself, in a

country where the exertions of a man enlightened beyond his subjects,

who has influence {183} to introduce intelligent cultivators,

possessing the knowledge of more favoured nations, may be necessary

to teach and stimulate the ignorant Copt to raise a new production:

And here, where discovery in every branch of knowledge almost exceeds

the progressive—here, where so many public and government _fixtures_

stand out, as if left on purpose to indicate the recent march of

mind, contrasting so strongly with private and individual attainment

in science and art,—with every thing the reverse of what affects the

Egyptian’s conduct; or, at least, with no excuse beyond affording

a cover for a wasteful expenditure of the public money;—will our

Government continue the system, heedless of reason or ridicule? or

will they not at once end these practices, and immediately commence

sales of every acre of ground to which the Crown has claim, excepting

what is necessary for the use of royalty, abolishing Woods and Forest

Generals, Rangers—every one who has taken rank under Jacques’ Greek,

or the devil’s own invocation, and pay off a part of the debt which is

crushing the energies of the first of nations?

Yet it is not of individuals that we complain; perhaps nobody

could have had a stronger _desire_ to do his duty, than the late

Surveyor-General. It is the system that is naught; where, to the lowest

{184} labourer, none have individual interest in the success of their

work; and where the efforts of the really honest, intelligent, and

industrious are, by directions and trammels, rendered unavailing; or

even through misrepresentation by _those_ of a contrary character, (as

would seem in the case of Mr Billington), are the cause of dismissal.

We can only predicate of the future from the past. In spite of all

our Parliamentary acts respecting these forests, and the clamour that

for ages has been made about them, they, with little exception, have

existed only as cover for sinecure expenditure, or for display of tyro

ignorance and incapacity, and subject for pillage, thieving, and frauds

of every description[40]; (_vide_ Parliamentary Reports). We could

easily—by a very simple incantation, requiring a rod neither tipped

with silver nor with gold, but merely a plain cane or sword—bring forth

a sufficient quantity of large growing oaks to meet any emergency.

Our charm would be to give the title of Prince to the Duke who should

possess, and have at the command of Government at a fair price, a

certain {185} number of oaks above a certain size, and a step of

elevation to every titled person, and the title of Baronet to every

private gentleman, who should possess a given number, diminishing the

number requisite to give a step as the title became lower. We should

conceive this law would not render nobility of less estimation. Perhaps

the clause might be added, that one tree raised on waste ground should

count two.

As a treatise on the rearing, or rather prevention of the rearing,

of young planting, Mr Billington’s small volume possesses some real

merit; and simplicity and useful and sagacious remark are so blended

together, as to afford to the reader at once amusement and information.

We are something at a loss to account for this incongruity. Has the

seclusion of a forest life given a cast of the _naturel_ to his mental

product; or has Jaques of Arden really been in Dean with his celebrated

invocation?

Mr Billington’s directions on pruning and training are generally

good; but he distances common sense when on his hobby of shortening

of side branches, in recommending to extend this practice to pines.

His breeding as a gardener, and consequent taste for espalier and

wall-training, where every shoot must be under especial direction, seem

to have {186} unfitted his mind to expand to the comprehension of

nature’s own process of action, and disqualified him from walking hand

in hand with her. We also consider that no good, but rather evil, would

result from continued cutting in, and lopping off the points of the

branches of all kinds of trees, excepting when the plants were stunted,

or much covered with flower-buds. Even a very slight clipping greatly

retards the growth of hedges; and the labour and attention requisite

would be very great: besides, the poor things, the trees, trimmed to

the Billingtonian standard, would, amongst the unrestrained beauties

of the forest, be ready to sink into the earth for very shame of their

_formal deformity_. He errs, too, in recommending not to plant sycamore

plane, as being of little value while young. We have sold young planes,

six or seven inches in diameter, at a higher price per foot than large

oak. They will generally find a good market wherever machinery abounds,

and will probably become every year in greater request.

Mr Billington is particularly solicitous to render his instructions

as plain as possible, in describing the mode of pruning young oaks

in formation of knee timber, as he confesses to bring it down to the

comprehension of gentlemen; but he is not very happy in his figures

of oak trees trained to this use, from {187} want of acquaintance

with the cutting out of naval crooks. He remarks that “larches are

more liable to die in wet ground by their roots being soaked in water

during winter, than oak and some other kinds;” but ground that is at

all pervious to water, ought not to be planted till it be drained in

such a manner that water will soon disappear from shallow holes; and

where, from the plastic closeness of the clay, draining is not quite

effectual, the planting should take place as late in the spring as the

breaking of the buds will permit; and principally by slitting, which,

by not breaking the natural coherence or turfiness of the soil, affords

less opening for water to stagnate around the roots, and does not

occasion the soil to sink down into the mortary consistence consequent

to pitting; there is also less destruction of the vegetables growing

in the soil, hence less putrescent matter to taint the water that may

stagnate round the roots; pure water, or water in motion, not being

detrimental to the roots for a considerable time: also, when the

plants are put in late in spring, there is seldom long stagnation of

water that season, and by next winter the ground has become so firmed

around the roots as to allow very little space for water, and has

also acquired a certain granular arrangement akin to polarization or

crystallization, which {188} allows the water gradually to percolate;

it is also bored by the earth-worm, and other insects, and the plant

itself, after the roots have struck anew and the fractures healed,

possesses a vitality which better enables it to withstand the exclusion

of air from the roots, and chilling by the water the ensuing winter,

and either prevents absorption of the stagnant fluid, or counteracts

its putrid tendency. Planting succeeds best in soil of this description

when the ground has been under grass for some period, at least the

new planted tree, in this case, is less liable to the root-rot; and

trenching or digging previous to planting is of more utility, as the

turfiness prevents the clay from sinking down into impervious mortar,

and allows the water to percolate to the drains.

Mr Billington is very earnest in recommending to drain well at first,

and to keep the drains (open drains) in repair; he also directs, where

the ground is very impervious and wet, to take large square sods, about

18 inches square and 9 inches thick, from the drains while digging in

early winter, and place one of these, the grassy side undermost, in

the site which each plant is to occupy. In the spring, by the time of

planting, the sod has become firmly fixed, and the two swards rotting

afford an excellent nourishment to the plant, which is inserted in

the {189} centre of the sod, with the roots as deep as the original

surface; the drains, being necessarily numerous, afford turf sufficient

for all the plants. This is good. He also gives sensible directions

to beat down, hoe, or cut away all weeds, shrubs, and grass, from the

young plants, and to remove all rough herbage and thickets of shrubs,

that form harbour for the short-tailed mouse, which is exceedingly

destructive, in the case both of planting and sowing; in the former,

by nibbling the bark from the stem, and biting off the twigs of the

young trees, (from which our author may have taken the hint of cutting

in, as mankind took that of pruning from the browsing of the ass), and

gnawing their roots immediately below the surface of the ground; and

in the latter, by devouring the seed in the ground, and cutting down

the seedling annual shoot. He also instructs to keep the tree to one

leader, shortening all straggling large branches; but his assertion,

that plants which had the tops of the straggling branches pinched off

in the first part of summer, grew much larger in consequence, looks

rather absurd; although we have known a part of a hedge, clipped a week

or two after the growth had commenced in spring, grow more luxuriantly

than the part which had been pruned in the same manner before the

growth had {190} commenced. This was owing to the check by the late

clipping, throwing the period of growth into warm moist July; what was

earlier clipped performed its growth in dry June, and was considerably

injured by the manna blight which the latter escaped[41]. The same

cause operates to induce late sown grain and wheat, which has been

thrown late by much injury of spring frost, to acquire a larger, more

luxuriant bulk, than that of earlier growth.

It would appear to us that Mr Billington, from ignorance of the value

of larch, and of the soil proper for maturing it, has done more

injury to the parts of the royal forests where a growth of timber was

obtained, by cutting out the thriving larch, than will be compensated

by his pruning and training of the sickly stunted oak which remained,

as described by him, scarcely visible, when the larches were of size

for country use; but we forget; no blame can attach to him—his orders

were, that every thing should give place to oak. {191}

In parting with our author, it is but just to state, that we consider

many may profit by a perusal of his pages: that notwithstanding the

simplicity to which we have alluded, there is often something sterling

in his remarks and reflections, the result of much experience,

resembling the original freshness of our writers before writing became

so much of a trade. In some places, indeed, his narrative is so

simply, naturally descriptive, and speaks so eloquently, of ignorance

of climate, season, soil, circumstance—of all the unknown dangers and

difficulties incident to _their_ new employment—and of the wonderful

contrivances and inventions hit upon to remedy them—that, when perusing

it, we could scarcely persuade ourselves we were not engaged with

Robinson Crusoe.

{192} IV.—FORSYTH ON FRUIT AND FOREST TREES.

The _surgery of trees_, which this author has the great merit of

almost perfecting, is the only important matter in this volume. His

composition salve, on the merits of which he expatiates so much, and

for the discovery of which he received a premium from the collective

wisdom of the nation assembled in Parliament, is, however, a piece of

mere quackery; and all the virtue of his practice lies in the cutting

out of the dead and diseased parts of the tree, thus effecting for

vegetables by excision, what nature herself performs for animals by

suppuration, exfoliation, and absorption.

Mr Forsyth’s surgery is of slight importance to timber trees in respect

of economy, as with them as with man, it is generally easier to raise

up anew than cure the diseased. Yet it is well that the rationale of

this practice be understood by foresters, more in regard to prevention

than cure; an occasion will however sometimes occur where a tree may

economically be benefited by surgical aid: and in cases where the {193}

Dryades acquire lasting attachment to particular objects, the science

is invaluable, as the object of their love may be thus continued

flourishing to the end of time, or as long as the inamorata chooses to

pay the surgeon.

Mr Forsyth presents us with numerous models of knives, irons, and

gouges, suited to the operation of removing the dead parts of his

patients. Where the gangrene occurs in the outside, he hews and scrapes

away with these till every portion in which the vital principle is

extinct be detached, and the surface all regular and smooth, so

scooped out as to afford no hollow where water may rest. He then

gives a coating of his composition salve to all the space operated

on, wherever the cuticle of the bark has been broken, which prevents

the drought, rain or air, from injuring the bared parts till the bark

spread over it. In cases where the removal of all the dead part at once

would endanger the stability of the tree, he first removes it along

the borders of the decayed part all round, close to the sound bark,

of such a breadth as to give full room for the bark to spread over in

one season, and covers this with his pigment, annually repeating the

cutting out, and painting around the rim or edge of the new-formed

bark, till the whole of the dead part be cleared away. {194} Under

this treatment, the excavation is gradually filled up with the new

wood forming under the spreading bark, and the wound becomes cleanly

cicatrized. Mr Forsyth has effected complete renovation, where the

sound vital part consisted only of a narrow stripe of bark and alburnum

upon one side of the stem, and where two cart loads of the diseased

trunk had been scooped out.

When the heart of the tree is decayed, he makes a section

longitudinally in the side of the tree, as far up and down as the rot

extends, and of sufficient width to admit the working out the diseased

part; and managed as above, the bark and wood gradually extend from

the two sides of the section into the vacuity, and fill it up entirely

with new sound timber. When the tree is of considerable diameter, the

opening formed in the side of the stem must be wide, nearly extending

to half the circumference, otherwise the sides of the section would

meet before the bark extended over all the inside. When the bark from

the two sides approaches to touch in the bottom of the hollow, he pares

off the cuticle from each side where they join, in order that they may

unite thoroughly. Should any of the roots be diseased, he removes the

earth, and pares away the corrupting parts; and if the top be stunted

or {195} sickly, he crops it at the joints where the smaller branches

separate, whence numerous fine strong shoots spring forth, whose new

vigour of vegetation, and absence of drain by seeding for several

years, generally renovate the whole plant, and occasion the filling up

of the wounds (should the trunk be under cure) to proceed rapidly.

Need we mention, that it is only in the cases where the partial death

or decay has resulted from casualty, or something not connected with

the general system of the plant, or with the soil, or other external

circumstances (unless these can be changed), that renovation by

clearing away the decayed or sickly parts is attainable? Where the

plant is sinking from mere old age, a source of decay of which in

some kinds at least we have doubts, or from the soil being improper

or exhausted for the particular kind of plant by long occupancy, or

from any circumstance not admitting of remedy, the attempt to heal up

the wounds caused by cutting out the diseased parts, or to induce new

vigour by cropping the top, must be abortive, or only attended with

partial or temporary success.

Our author, who is a practical man, apparently very little disposed

to throw away time upon inquiring into causes, does not attempt even

to guess at {196} the mode by which his composition performs the

wonders for which he gives it credit. It is impossible, by any salve,

to promote discharge from the bare alburnum, though cut into the

vital part, to form, or assist in the formation, of bark; and the

sum of the resulting advantages consists in preventing the vitality

from becoming extinct far inward from the section (as under the best

management to a certain extent it will become so), by an antiseptic

cover from the drought and moisture, heat and cold; in promoting the

spread of the juices from the edge of the bark over the bared part by

exclusion of drought, and by forming a defence against insects. We

have found a paste of pure clay, wrought up with some fibrous matter,

as chaff or short hay, an excellent cover for tree wounds, applied in

spring or early summer, when dry weather followed the application; but

in autumn or winter, and when moist weather followed, the clay, by

remaining wet, only served to induce corruption. We think this clay

paste (probably benefited by a powdering of charcoal on the inside) the

best application when applied in spring. We have seen a terminal cross

section, of about one inch diameter, of a long branch, covered quite

over in two months with bark when clayed; and a tree of three inches

in diameter, from {197} which a dog had torn off the bark from one

half of the circumference of the stem, entirely renew the lost bark

in one season, when immediately clayed over. Resins, oils, bitumen,

paints and composts without number, have been used with more or less

success, depending upon the period of the year, weather, kind of tree,

individual health, and other circumstances; but these salves should, as

in flesh-wound salves, be considered only as protections, or slightly

auxiliary to the restorative energy of nature, not as cures.

{198} V.—MR WITHERS.

Having by chance glanced over a pamphlet by an Englishman, a Mr

Withers, we find there has been jousting between that gentleman and our

Scottish knights, backed by their squire the Edinburgh Reviewer, in

which the discomfiture of the knights has been wrought by simple hands.

It seems Sir Henry Steuart, forgetful that his own bright fame, which

rivals that of the discoverers of steam-power and gas[42], though of

comparatively quick growth, will endure for ages; and led astray,

probably, by the foolish adage, “soon ripe, soon rotten,” had stated

unqualifiedly, that “fast grown timber will sooner decay, and is of

opener weaker texture than slow grown of the same kind;” and on these

false premises concluded, that all culture or application of manure to

further the growth of timber is improper—winding up with some patriotic

flourish about danger to our war navy, from Mr Withers {199} rendering

the British oak of such exceedingly rapid growth as to be soft and

perishable as mushrooms. Withers completely demolishes his literary

and scientific adversaries, but is, withal, so very imperfectly

acquainted with the subject—himself, and also his junto of experienced

correspondents, that we shall attempt a few lines in elucidation.

* * * * *

We shall first state our facts, accompanied with explanatory remarks.

No. 1. An ash tree of about 18 inches diameter, and 65 years of age.

The first 35 years, the annual growths were of middle size, and the

timber weighty and tough; the following 15 years, very small, light,

porous, and free; the latter 15 of middle size, and of fair quality.

This tree had been growing till about 49 years of age in a grassy

avenue, of dry clay soil, and close by a deep ditch. About sixteen

years back, the ditch had been filled up, and the ground ploughed and

manured regularly till the tree was cut down. After 35 years’ growth,

the scorching roots of the ash had rendered the soil so dry, that the

tree had run entirely to reproduction: _Nearly all the nourishment from

the ground assimilated in the leaves being expended in forming seed, no

extension of the top had taken place, and_ {200} _thence no thickening

of the bole being necessary for support, no wood proper had been

deposited on the trunk save the annual rings of lineal tubes to convey

the sap, which constituted a brittle light wood, of very slight lateral

adhesion_[43]. After the ditch was filled up, and the surrounding

ground ploughed and manured, the increased supply of moisture and

nourishment had induced a considerable new extension of top (which was

quite visible in fine young healthy branches rising from a stunted

base), and consequent necessary thickening of stem by annual layers of

proper dense wood, along with the lineal annual tubes.

No. 2. A beautiful most luxuriant growing oak, in one of the sweetest

sunny spots of the sweetest valley of our Highlands. This tree,

of nearly two hundred solid feet of timber, and 80 years of age,

was growing upon the bare shelf of a sound mica-schist rock. From

underneath this shelf, several feet down in front, a most exuberant

spring welled out, and the roots spread down over {201} the rock to

the mouth of the crystal spring, no doubt tracing inward the course

of the limpid waters into the rocky chambers of the Naiad. We had

much conjecture how this tree came to be growing on the bare shelf,

and finally concluded, that the nymph of the spring, while she sat

there gazing on her beauties, under the varying dimpling reflection

of the living waters, her rosy feet bathed by the glassy flood, had

been surprised by some rude Celt, and to effect escape from his rough

embrace, had been transformed by Diana into a tree. Yet whether of

natural or supernatural origin, it was by the people of the glen held

of miraculous virtue, and the sickly children were brought to be dipped

in the spring after being borne several times round the charm-tree.

When torn from its seat, the tree, though sound, and having a level

fall (we saw it fall), broke across about twenty feet up, where the

stem was about eight feet in circuit; _this was owing to the very

soft tender nature of the wood, which, although consisting of very

large annual growths, was, when sawn out, the most porous insufficient

Scots oak we have ever seen_. As this fact may be ascribed to the

supernatural,—the heart of the nymph beginning to soften towards the

Celt at the time Diana interfered, accounting well for {202} the soft

texture of the heart-wood of the tree, we shall not press it as a proof

on either side of the controversy. Perhaps sober reasoners may think

this all phantasy, and conclude, that the tree, from deficiency of

substantial earthy food, and subsisting principally on _slops_ (being

mainly nourished by drinking of the delicious well), would, like an

animal under similar circumstances, be of soft flabby consistency.

The above fact is opposed to common opinion—a Highlander always

choosing his oaken staff from off a rock, as being most to depend upon;

yet perhaps this preference is owing to some association with the

hardness of the rock itself.

No. 3. We found a sycamore plane (Acer pseudo-platanus) in the same

row with other sycamores, and about the same size, so exceeding hard

that it could scarcely be cut down by mattock and hatchet, whereas

the others adjacent were comparatively of moderate hardness, though

differing considerably in hardness from each other; the soil in this

case was very equable, being of Carse clay. The peculiar hardness of

this tree could only be attributable to a harder variety. Indeed,

the difference of quality in timber depends chiefly on the infinite

varieties existing in what is called Species, though soil and {203}

climate have no doubt considerable influence, both in forming the

variety, and in modifying it while growing. Of varieties, those which

have the thinnest bark, under equal exposure, have the hardest wood.

No. 4. We have cut a number of large old ash trees, and found, with one

or two exceptions, of what is called thunder-struck trees (which we

consider only an obdurate variety), that they were invariably of very

free, weak consistency, more especially the latter formed growths, but

even the earlier growths had become _frush_ from age. This timber soon

went to decay after being cut down:—one piece cut out into planks, and

these being laid down in the order they occupied in the log, was in the

course of some weeks rendered again entire by being agglutinated by

Jew’s ears (a species of fungus.) The workmen were greatly startled at

the fact, thinking the log bewitched. When immediately dissevered by

wedges, the wood was so much decomposed, that its fibre was tenderer

than the Jew’s ears, separating in a new course in most places, in

preference to the saw draught occupied by the ears. We have found very

old oaks have exactly the same friable character, so much so, as render

their safe felling almost impossible; yet this oak timber had not lost

much in weight {204} when compared after being dried with younger oak.

No. 5. We cut a row of ash trees, about 50 years of age, in dry Carse

clay, by the side of a deep ditch, and consequently of slow growth; the

timber was excellent, hard, strong, and weighty, rather most so where

the size was smallest. At one end, where the row approached a brook,

and the soil became richer and moister, several of the trees were of

good size, but rather inferior in quality of timber, excepting one (the

largest, though not the nearest to the brook), which was of very hard,

strong, and reedy fibre, evidently a variety differing much from the

others. It is always easy to discriminate pretty accurately the quality

of the wood, by examination of the saw cross section of the trunk, that

is, provided the same saw be employed, and be kept equally sharp; the

best timber having the glossiest, smoothest section.

No. 6. We have examined Scots fir grown in many different situations;

by far the best quality, of its age, of any we know, stands upon a

very adhesive Carse clay, which, from the proprietor’s neglect, is all

winter and in wet weather soaking with water, and the trees not of very

luxuriant growth. These, till a few years ago, stood in close order,

without the stem being {205} much exposed to parching or evaporation;

this exposure of the stem rendering fir timber much harder and more

resinous. Every body who has touched larch must be convinced that the

slow grown on poor _tills_, especially with long naked stems in exposed

situation, is very much stronger and harder than the quick grown,

though often not so tough: but much depends on the variety in larch,

those having the reddest matured wood being much harder than the paler

coloured.

Memel fir, which is the largest growthed red pine we are acquainted

with, is very strong and durable, probably next to the pitch pine of

North America; yet the very large growthed Memel is generally weakest,

though we frequently find a log of small growthed, mild and inferior in

strength. In old buildings we have often witnessed the beautiful small

growthed red wood pine wormed, when the larger growthed was sound,

but we are sensible that spontaneous decomposition and consumption

by insects are very different; much resin deters insects, whereas,

in moist situations, as in treenails of vessels, it conduces to

spontaneous decay; yet is it preservative when the timber is exposed to

the weather by excluding the rain. {206}

The coniferæ differ much in the internal arrangement of their woody

structure from the hard wood species, having tissue of much larger

cells, and being generally destitute of the large lineal tubes, which

in hard wood constitute the more porous inner part of the annual layer.

When these tubes occur in the pines, they also differ in position,

being in the outer part of the layer. Owing to the resin of the pines

becoming fixed in the cells of the outer part of the annual layers,

inspissated, we think, by the summer’s heat and drought (others say

congealed by the cold), these cells are filled up, and this part of

the growth rendered much denser than the inner part of the layer,

being from solidity semi-transparent. We would attribute the abundance

of resin in the Georgian pitch pine to the heat and long summer of

that country, probably in concert with damp richness of soil, not

only occasioning this deposit under these circumstances, but perhaps

inducing a disposition in this species to the formation of this

product[44]. The absence of the large tubes, {207} and the presence

of oleaginous resin, render pine timber, when old and small growthed,

not so brittle, nor so liable to decay, as that of deciduous trees; but

it becomes very deficient in lateral adhesion. From the same cause we

find the external layers of matured pine timber comparatively superior

to the quality of the inner layers: in hard wood the exterior layers

are generally much inferior to the inner. Boards of sap-wood of fast

grown Scots fir, particularly of the outside layers are much better

suited—stronger and more lasting, for boxes used as carriage packages,

or for machinery or cart lining much exposed to blows and friction;

than boards of the best matured red wood of Memel, Swedish, or Norway

pine. This is principally owing to the fast grown alburnum possessing

much greater lateral adhesion than the matured wood of old pines. To

have these sap-wood boards in greatest perfection, the tree must {208}

not lie in the bark after felling, and the boards must be well dried

soon after being cut out. To expose the tree, peeled, either standing

or felled, to the sun and dry air for some time, will considerably

increase the strength of this alburnum. The wood, while in the state

of sap-wood, of many kinds of timber is as strong and much tougher

than the same wood after being matured, and would be equally valuable

were any process discovered of rendering it equally durable; its

insufficiency often arises from partial decay having occurred while in

the log. The same sap-wood of oak, which, allowed to lie on the grass

after being peeled in spring, will be so much decomposed in autumn that

it may be kicked off with one’s heel; if cut out and dried immediately

on being felled, it will be tougher than the matured, and, kept dry

as cart-spokes, and defended by paint from the worm, will last and

retain its toughness for an age. The tilling up, which to a certain

extent occurs in maturing, is most probably deposited to fill up tubes,

and may thus not greatly strengthen the mass; a hollow cylinder being

stronger than a solid cylinder when extending horizontally over a

considerable stretch, like a joist or beam; the mass may also become

a little more fragile by maturing: besides a filling up is the result

of some chemical change the {209} wood probably becoming slightly

carbonized or approaching to that change which takes place when

vegetables become peat.

It is rather difficult to speak of the strength of timber, as different

kinds of timber, and different parts and qualities of the same kind

of timber, have different kinds of strength. Some kinds are stronger

as beams or joists, other kinds as boarding; while, again, some kinds

are better for enduring a regular pressure, others for supporting a

sudden jerk or blow, either as beams or boards. Some kinds are also

comparatively stronger, moist; others when dry—and some kinds retain

their qualities of strength or toughness longer than others when moist,

and others longer when dry, although no rot appear.

No. 7. Purposely for experiment[45], we selected three ash trees, all

growing in Carse clay, but differing the most in fastness of growth of

any we could discover. We cut these down on the same day; two of them

proved about 36 years planted, and the third 15; this, the youngest

was of fast growth, and had layers of more than double the size of one

of the {210} former, and about six times that of the other. We cut a

number of pieces of exactly equal length and thickness (17 inches long,

and nearly an inch on the side), from each of these, choosing them

of clean straight fibre, at equal distance from the ground, and from

the outside of the tree, and having their growths nearly parallel to

one side, of course free of heart. We proved one of each immediately

on being cut out while full of sap, with their growths on edge in

horizontal position, supported at each end with a weight suspended from

the middle. The smallest growthed, and the largest, weighed at the time

of trial nearly equal; the medium growthed one-thirtieth more. The

smallest growthed supported the weight about six minutes; the medium

and the largest about half that time; the smallest growthed yielded

the least before breaking, and the largest yielded the most. When

completely dried, the weight of the medium growthed still continued

greatest, surpassing the largest one-fourteenth, and the smallest about

one-thirtieth. The smallest and medium supported nearly equal weight,

during equal time, and outbore the largest about one-seventh[46]; when

placed {211} with the growths on edge, they were stronger than when

placed with the growths flat.

After these rather lengthy references to facts, we must allude to a

circumstance which we are astonished has not been attended to by Mr

Withers, and his gentlemen correspondents connected with His Majesty’s

docks,—the not taking into account the place of the tree whence the

portion of wood for experimenting the strength had been taken, and also

how the annual layers stood, whether horizontal or on edge, or around

a centre, when the weight was applied. The experienced and accurately

practical Mr Withers presents two specimens of oak, the one of faster

and the other of slower growth, to Professor Barlow, of Woolwich Royal

Academy, and the strength of these specimens is tested and reported

upon, without once alluding to what we have mentioned above. Now, if

this has not been attended to, the experiment may be considered a test

of something else than of the timber. How much the strength is affected

by the place of the tree, any person may satisfy himself by proving

one piece of timber taken from near the root, another half way up the

tree, and a third near the top: he will find that in a tall tree the

comparative {212} strength will sometimes vary as much as 3, 2, 1;

that is, a beam, say 2 inches square, and 4 feet long, taken from near

the root, when horizontally placed, and resting only at each end, will

support three times as much as a like beam in like position from near

the top of the tree, although both are equally clear of knots or cross

section of grain. This is particularly manifest in large fast-grown

silver fir and old ash, and the difference is always greatest in old

trees. He will also find that the position of the beam, in respect to

the layers being circular round the heart, flat, on edge, or at an

angle, has considerable influence, and, should he inquire farther, will

perhaps notice, that the timber from different sides of the tree is

not always alike strong; that one specimen of timber will be superior

to another, both being moist, and inferior to it when both are dry,

and that also, as in No. 1, the tree at the same height on the same

side, will contain timber differing in strength fully one half, and not

always diminishing in strength from the heart outwards, even in hard

wood. We are well pleased with one gentleman of the Navy Dock-yard, who

naively admits, that he is incompetent to decide on these subjects,

having been altogether devoted to the mathematical, in estimating

the strain and resistance timber suffers under {213} different

combinations. Now we like this division of labour.

But to return to our subject. The facts stated go to prove, that the

quality of timber depends much upon soil, circumstance, and more

especially on variety; and that in the early period of the growth of

trees, before much seeding, and when the soil is not much exhausted of

the particular pabulum necessary for the kind of plant, that rather

slow grown timber is superior in strength to quick grown, especially

when the quickness exceeds a certain degree; when this degree is

exceeded, the timber is not so weighty, and is well known not to be so

durable. However, when timber is required of considerable scantling, it

is only in good soils, where the tree increases moderately fast, that

timber will attain sufficient size for this, at an age young enough

to retain its toughness throughout, or to continue forming firm dense

wood on the exterior. This is particularly so in the case of hard-wood

timber, more especially when oak grows upon a moist soil, where the

matured wood, of brownish-red colour, is often unsound, and where

decay commences at a comparatively early period. In the pine, owing to

the oleaginous undrying nature of the sap (resin), the {214} timber

retains its strength to a great age; and the reedy closeness of slow

growth, for most purposes, outbalances any loss from deficiency of

lateral adhesion.

Moderately fast grown timber is much more requisite for naval purposes

than for other uses; as, besides the greater longitudinal strength

when of large dimension, it has greater adhesion laterally, is far

more pliant, and therefore much better suited for the ribs of vessels,

where cross cutting a portion of the fibre, from the inattention to

training to proper bends, is unavoidable; and whence a disrupting

shock (which is rather to be withstood than fair pressure), makes the

unyielding splintering old wood fly like ice; the rift commencing its

run from the cut fibre. For plank, the lateral adhesion and pliancy

of young moderately fast grown timber is equally valuable, especially

for those which are applied to the curvature of the bow and stern.

Young timber also softens much better by steam, therefore is more

convenient for planking, and for being bent for the compass timbers

of large vessels. The vessel constructed of it will besides, from the

general elasticity of the fibre, be more lively in the water, sail

faster, and, though stronger to resist, will {215} have less strain

to endure[47]. Mr Withers’s corresponding friends, especially those of

his Majesty’s Dock-yards, with the good common sense of practical men,

are well acquainted with all this, although they get a little out of

element when they meddle with nature or causes. Mr Withers is himself

equally out of element when he expatiates on the mighty advantage of

trenching and manuring at planting, and when he talks of our Scottish

holes. The Knight, too, is still more at fault in dreading any great

influence on the quickness of the growth of trees from this gentleman’s

_new inventions_,—and doubly at fault, from conjecturing our navy would

suffer from being constructed of the fastest grown British timber there

is any chance of our shipwrights obtaining. Since we were in our teens,

we have almost every season trenched a portion of ground for planting,

and have manured highly at planting[48], {216} and for several years

afterwards. We have found, when very adhesive subsoil was brought

upward, that the trees throve _well_ while the ground continued under

cultivation; but when the labour ceased, they were soon overtaken by

those planted at the same time without trenching. This comparative

falling off was evidently owing to the surface being rendered more

adhesive by the gluey plastic subsoil being mixed upward with the

original small portion of surface-mould. This new surface melted to a

pulp by the winter rains, when drought set in spring, run together,

became indurated, and parting into divisions, admitted the drought down

to the unstirred ground by numerous deep and wide cracks, which rent

the rootlets of the trees, and rendered it impossible for any plant to

thrive. There are also many kinds of light subsoil, which it would be

folly to bring to the surface, and where little profit would arise from

deep stirring, even though the surface were retained uppermost.

In cases where the plants were very small, we have found deep trenching

of no benefit, but in certain {217} soils rather hurtful, even during

the first years; but with larger plants, such as are often used in

England, it invariably occasioned their roots to strike quickly, by

affording a regular supply of moisture, and from being easily permeated

by the rootlets, expedited the growth, yielding much early luxuriance

when followed by skilful culture, but latterly, seldom to such a degree

as would lead us to suppose much difference would be discernible at 30

years of age, between the trenched and those planted by mere pitting,

slitting, or sowing,—much more depending on proper draining, on young,

thriving, small sturdy plants, of best variety,—on suiting the plant to

the soil and climate, and on timely thinning.

But even were a very superior ultimate progress of growth obtained by

trenching, manuring, and culture of timber, yet as capital and manure

will _probably_ be more advantageously employed in common agriculture,

which gives a comparatively quick return of both, we shall leave to

Mr Withers and his coterie of illuminati the whole advantage of his

discovery. Economic philosophy is the queen of our Scottish plants; she

will not admit any new system of nurture for her subjects without the

{218} strictest scrutiny of its utility as applied to her domains,—she

proceeds thus to weigh Mr Withers’s practice:—

_Extra Cost per Acre._

Twenty loads of putrescent manure, at the average price at

which thousands of tons are annually imported to the valley

of the Tay from _England_, 9s. per load, L. 9 0 0

Carriage expenses of above, at 3s. per load, 3 0 0

Twenty loads calcareous manure, including

carriage (were marl not at hand, lime would

cost thrice as much), 4 0 0

Trenching, 9 0 0

Total first extra cost, L.25 0 0

Accumulation by 28 years’ interest, at 5 per

cent. nearly, L.100 0 0

Would land under timber 28 years planted, with growth accelerated

by Mr Withers’s practice, in two-thirds of the available portion of

Scotland, sell at more than L. 100 per English acre? Suppose that the

thinnings previous to the 28th year would cover the cost of planting,

and subsequent cultivation and attention which is necessary, besides

{219} the cost of the trenching and manuring (in many cases they

would not), the entire value of the land would be lost. It may be said

that the common rules of utility do not apply in this case,—that the

landlords will not be moved to any other improvement than planting,

and that otherwise their income would be dissipated entirely, without

any portion being applied to reproductive uses. We grant all this;

but Scottish landlords have very little taste for the Withers’

system,—to deface their beautiful wastes, by burying all the fine

turf and wildflowers under the red mortar (the common subsoil), or to

scatter manure. Planting by pitting and slitting will prove far more

attractive; besides, the means are entirely awanting to carry on such

expensive proceedings to the necessary extent, and the cultivation of

one acre in this fashion would leave 19 untouched, when the whole 20

might have been wooded, in many cases to equal advantage, by the money

expended on one. We have known planting executed by contract for one

year’s interest of the above stated first extra expenditure, which

we would match against planting raised by Mr Withers’s process, in

the same situation. There is also a very considerable proportion of

Scotland very suitable for {220} timber where the stony nature of the

surface entirely precludes trenching.

Mr Withers, who appears to have no general knowledge of soils and

climates, would hold a different language with regard to Scotland and

Scotsmen, if he saw the beautiful thriving plantations now rising in

that country, planted by mere pitting and slitting, where, owing to

the drought in early summer being less fierce than what occurs in

the central, eastern, and southern counties of England, and to the

herbage being less luxuriant, planting without trenching can always

be depended upon. Mr Withers would also have been sensible had he had

much practice in rural affairs, that twenty loads of putrid manure per

acre at planting, although of very considerable advantage for two or

three seasons to the rising trees, in promoting, along with hoeing and

digging, an early start to luxuriance, would cause little or no lasting

amelioration of the soil; That the vegetable mould naturally occupying

the surface is generally by itself a much better defence against the

summer’s drought, than when incorporated with the subsoil, especially

after cultivation ceases; that lasting fertility of ground for timber,

though sometimes, is often not increased by admixture of soil {221}

and subsoil; and that, generally, the luxuriance of the tree must

ultimately depend on the natural depth and quality of the ground itself.

Mr Withers, with that precise knowledge of the subject, and clear

conception of the nature of things, which generally accompanies

a partial acquaintance with facts, makes a confident and rather

imposing appearance as a wielder of language and a logician. From his

assumed superiority, we especially wonder that he should possibly

have envy of Scotsmen, which, from the tenor of his letter, we are

constrained to believe. Need Caledonia remind her noble sister,

England, of their consanguinity,—that they are sisters whom nature

hath _twinned_ together? Is there another in all the earth, with

quadruple the advantages of Scotland, who can rank with her in science

and literature, arts and arms? And is England not proud of her poorer

sister? Or can they feel aught but mutual love?

* * * * *

Since writing the above, we have looked over some experiments by Messrs

Barlow, Beaufoy, Couch, and others, on the strength of timber. These

show so much discrepancy of result, as leads us to conclude, {222}

that experimenters have not attended sufficiently to the structure and

nature of the timber, the position and quality of the different layers,

&c. Take, for example, the stem of a tall tree, 100 years old: At the

cross section, it is found to consist of a certain number of layers of

matured timber, and of sap timber. These layers having been gradually

formed, the external, after those more internal have partly dried,

and the internal and matured wood being also filled up to more solid

consistency than the external, the stem, on being barked, contracts in

drying much more externally than internally. As soon as the surface

has dried, the outer layers contracting laterally are not sufficient

to surround the undried internal layers, thence split in longitudinal

rifts; and as the drying proceeds inwards, the cracks deepen till they

reach nearly to the heart—these rifts, when the timber is thoroughly

dry, being generally wider in the sap timber than in the matured, more

than in the proportion of the size of the respective circles. This

effect of drying is what every body is acquainted with.

Besides lateral contraction, there is also a disposition to contract

longitudinally by drying, much greater in the external than internal

layers. While the tree is undivided, this greater contraction of the

{223} exterior layers is prevented, by the adhesion to the drier more

filled up central column (which probably had contracted a little during

the formation of the exterior sap-wood layers), the contractile force

of the exterior balancing equally around this central column. Should

this balance be destroyed by the stem being cleft up the middle, the

longitudinal contraction will immediately take place, and the two

halves will bend outward, from the outside layers contracting more than

the inside layers. We have seen an ash tree rend up the middle from the

cross section above the bulb, nearly to the top, on being cut across in

felling, owing to the longitudinal contractile force of the exterior

existing even before drying.

Should the dried stem of a tree, of considerable length, be laid

hollow, supported at each end, the outside layer being stretched

almost to breaking by the longitudinal contraction being greatest

in the outermost part, a very small weight, aided by a slight jerk

or concussion, may be sufficient to burst the outside layer on the

lower side, the outside layers on the upper side not standing out as

a support above, but combining their contractile force with gravity

to rend the lower. As the outer layer gives way, the strain is thrown

concentrated upon the next outermost, which also gives way, and the

beam is broken {224} across in detail. In like manner, when the

direct longitudinal strength is tested, the external circles being

in greater tension than the internal, the tightest parts of the log

will give way in succession, like a rope with strands of different

degrees of tightness; yet the lateral adhesion of the layers will have

considerable effect in strengthening the mass.

The above explains the fallacy of estimating the longitudinal strength

of a thick piece of timber from experiments with small shreds; it

likewise explains how a large unbuilt mast is so easily sprung;

wherefore a beam round as grown will be rendered stronger as a beam by

being formed into a hollow cylinder, by boring out the central part;

and also how a square log will be strengthened as a beam, by cleaving

it up the middle, and placing the two pieces on edge, with their

outside or backs together. In the latter case, the middle, by being

turned outside, and exposed to the air, will contract more than what

it would do shut up and covered by the exterior wood, especially if

resinous pine timber, which continues to contract for many years, owing

to the resin, when exposed to the air, gradually drying or undergoing

some change, by which it is diminished in size, and rendered similar to

amber. {225}

Consideration of the difference of tension of the concentric layers,

from the difference of disposition to contract by drying, modified

by the difference of position in which these layers may stand, when

supporting weights and bearing strain, with the various qualities of

timber of the same kind of tree, from variety, age, soil, climate, or

from being taken from near the outside or heart, or butt or top, will,

we think, account for the contrariety of results which unphilosophical

experiments have afforded.

{226} VI.—STEWARDS PLANTER’S GUIDE, AND SIR WALTER SCOTT’S CRITIQUE.

We have noticed that a sensation has been produced in a certain

quarter, particularly among persons of a certain age, by a publication

of Sir Henry Steuart of Allanton, on removing large trees, eked out by

a very clever article in the London Quarterly, on Landscape Gardening,

ascribed to Sir Walter Scott.

It may seem unnecessary to direct the attention of the public again

either to this volume or its subject, both of which have already

engaged the public attention to a degree greatly beyond their value

and importance; but Sir Henry, with all his foppery and parade of

decorating parks, approaches, and lawns, and all that sort of chateau

millinery, has now and then risen above his subject, and not only given

us several hints useful in rural economy, but has also pretensions to

have brought out some facts hitherto but imperfectly known, and to have

traced them to general principles. {227}

It is curious to remark of how much greater importance the elder part

of society—those upon whom wealth has at length devolved, are generally

held. Any device, however trifling, which can in any way divert the

fancy, pamper the lingering senses, or patch up the body of our second

childhood, is infinitely more useful to the discoverer, and meets with

higher patronage and more eclat, than what is of a thousand times more

consequence to the young. Now, if this were the fruit of filial love,

all would be very well—we would idolize the picture: but when we see

these discoveries only patronized by the old themselves, in the merest

egotism, we blush for our patriarchs, and wonder if time and suffering

will be spent as unprofitably upon ourselves.

We wonder much what fascination can exist to a mind of so much ability

and culture as that of Sir Henry Steuart, in decorating a few dull

unprofitable acres,—causing a few bushes and bush-like trees to change

place from one side of a dull green to the other!—laying digested

plans of action, embracing a great number of years, to accomplish

this very important feat, which most probably the next heir will make

_the business of his life_ to undo, by turning them back to their

old quarters, if he does not, with more wisdom, grub them out {228}

altogether as cumberers of the soil! For ourselves, we would rather

_baa_ with the silly sheep, and nibble the turf, than pass our time in

acting over this most pitiful trifling, or in publishing a memorial

of our shame. We know not how others are affected, but there is no

other place on earth where we have felt such oppression and weariness,

as in the extensive smoothed park and lawns around the country seat.

We sicken under the uniformity of the heavy-looking round-headed

trees,—the dulness of the flat fat pasture, undecorated by a single

weed,—the quiet stupid physiognomy of the cattle,—the officiousness of

the sleek orderly menial. It may be we are very destitute of taste in

this; here every thing is experiencing satiety of sensual enjoyment, is

full to repletion; every thing has been sedulously arranged to please,

and we ought certainly to admire; but we have no sympathy with such a

scene.

The solitariness, the absence of men and of human interest, is not

compensated by any of the wild charms of nature. There is small room

here for the discovery of the _habitat_ and native character of plants,

no chance of meeting with a rare species, every thing is modelled

to art. The land-bailiff is an adept. With his dirty composts and

top-dressings, he smothers the _fog_ and the daisy; the scythe {229}

sweeps down every idle weed, every wild flower which escapes his

large-mouthed oxen. The live smooth bark of the lush fast-growing

trees, affords no footing for the various and beautiful tribes of

mosses and lichens. The fog-bee has lost its dwelling, the humble-bee

its flowers, and they have flown away. Scarce an insect remains, except

the swollen earth-worm, the obscene beetle, and the bloated toad,

crawling among the rank grass. There is a heavy dankness in the air

itself. The nervous fluid stagnates under it,—the muscles relax into

lassitude,—inexpressible depression sinks upon the heart.

It is impossible to describe the relief we feel when we emerge again

into varied nature beyond the ring-fence,—we have the hill and the

furze, the wild-violet and the thyme, and all the sweet diversity of

our subalpine flora. We have the thatched, patched hut, the fine ragged

children, the blooming cottage-girl,—we have the corn-field, where

weeds of every dye, the beautiful centaurea and scabiosa, the elegant

fumaria, the gaudy cock-rose, and the splendid chrysanthemum, are

contending for existence with the cerealeæ. Look at the broken mound,

with its old picturesque trees and tangled bushes; there is the ancient

root where the throstle had its nestlings, which are now at large on

the leafy boughs, and are {230} tuning their yet unformed notes to

melody. Now every twig has raised its new column of foliage to the sun;

and branch, and root, and stone, embellished all over in the richest

variety of cryptogamic beauty, swarm of insect life. This smooth path

has been paved by the lightsome foot; how superior to the gravel-walk

on which the labourer has grudged his useless toil! Even the cart-ruts

possess an interest, which useful labour has worn. After the smooth

monotony of the park; the turf-dykes, the fluting of the ridges, the

different kinds of crops, are most agreeable diversity. The dunghil,

and chanticleer among his dames, the toiled horse, the lean milch-cow,

and the superhumanly-sagacious-looking shepherd-colley,—every thing we

behold commands a sympathy, draws forth a wish of benevolence.

* * * * *

As Sir Walter Scott’s Critique came under our notice prior to Sir

Henry’s Guide, we shall proceed in the same order.

In the first half of this article, Sir Walter gives the history, and

describes the varied character, of Landscape Gardening, in a very

imaginative and felicitous manner, which, as depending on genius and

literature alone, was to be expected; but, in the latter part of the

essay, when he comes to treat of {231} action and facts, and Sir

Henry’s _discoveries_, the deficiency in practical knowledge and

judgment, only forms a contrast to the fancy, elegance, and erudition

of what goes before.

Sir Walter, apparently not quite unconscious of the ridicule attaching

to the subject,—to this mighty scientific and historic parade in

teaching country gentlemen to amuse themselves by transferring grown

trees as they list, from one place to another, without entirely

destroying the life of the transported subject,—makes a curious effort

to sustain its consequence, by pointing out the immense advantages to a

district by the squire’s residing in it; insinuating, that every thing

which may amuse him at home, and thus induce him to stay, although

of itself childish or infamous, becomes of the highest importance,

being ennobled by the end. The following courtly quotation is from Sir

Walter’s proemial observations: “A celebrated politician used to say,

he would willingly bring in a bill to make poaching felony, another

to encourage the breed of foxes, and a third to revive the decayed

amusements of cock-fighting and bull-baiting; that he would make, in

short, any sacrifice to the humours and prejudices of the country

gentlemen, in their most extravagant form, providing only he could

prevail on them to dwell in their {232} own houses, be the patrons of

their own tenantry, and the fathers of their own children.” Sir Walter

does not attempt to describe or analyze the “humours and prejudices”

necessary to render the above lures efficacious. Does he infer that

such dishonourable power over their fellow men, or that the opportunity

of indulging in such low despicable practices, would induce the country

gentlemen to sojourn in their father-land? It is impossible to say

any thing more insultingly cutting. But we are far from imputing to

Sir Walter any intentional offence. Yet we cannot help being angry

with the freakish favouritism of Fortune, although we are sensible it

belongs instinctively to the female character, often a necessary and

very interesting trait; how she dooms one man from his childhood to

toil incessantly for a bare subsistence; how she lavishes her favours

upon another, and surrounds him from the cradle with every delight;

the mind enlightened, the taste cultivated, the body trained to the

most graceful exercises, _even whose very amusements_ are considered

of so great importance as to throw a high interest upon an art of

no earthly utility, but, on the contrary, where the labour of many

workmen is thrown uselessly away. We are aware that Sir Walter and his

Senator only regard these pastimes {233} of the country gentlemen,

thus highly, through a reflected interest, the latter in a political

view; and the Baronet, from the known warm benevolence of his heart (a

feeling generally associated with genius), towards his poor countrymen,

to whom he supposes, in the event of the country gentlemen being by

any means induced to stay at home, a part of the great land revenue so

unjustly wrung from the poor man’s labour would again devolve.

It is amusing to observe with what a flow of imagination Sir Walter

shews off his friend’s inventions—inventions which have been practised

with less or more success, in a manner very similar, by almost every

planter of note, since the time of Nero. We quote again: “The existence

of the wonders,—so we may call them,—which Sir Henry Steuart has

effected, being thus supported by the unexceptionable evidence of

competent judges (_a deputation by the Highland Society_), what lover

of natural beauty can fail to be interested in his own detailed account

of the mode by which he has been able to make wings for time?”—“But

although we have found the system to be at once original, effectual,

and attended with moderate expense, we are not sanguine enough to hope

that it will at once find {234} general introduction. The application

of steam and gas to the important functions which they at present

perform, was slowly and reluctantly adopted, after they had been

opposed for many years by the prejudices of the public,—earlier or

later this beautiful and rational system will be brought into general

action, when it will do more to advance the picturesque beauty of the

country in five years, than the slow methods hitherto adopted will

in fifty. It is now found we possess the art of changing the face of

nature like the scenes in a theatre, and that we can convert, almost

instantaneously, a desert to an Eden.”

Now, this is admirable! Even were it granted, that no planter before

Sir Henry Steuart’s time, or without his instructions, had ever removed

a tree of considerable size successfully (though we believe he has

nearly as much the merit of discovery in this as in the other curious

invention ascribed to him by Sir Walter, “making wings for time,” which

must certainly have been performed by Sir Henry a long while ago, as

we remember time flying very well when we were a truant boy); yet,

nevertheless, Sir Walter, now that his paroxysm of admiration has had

time to moderate, will surely help us to laugh {235} at the absurdity

of his hyperbolic figures of comparison, with steam, and gas, and

scenic transformation, which throw such ridicule upon his excellent

friend.

We believe that Sir Henry Steuart has been as successful as many others

of his countrymen in transplanting grown trees. We have had some little

practice ourselves in this art, but which, had it not been for Sir

Henry’s _discoveries_, we should not have thought of obtruding on the

notice of the public. The house we occupied was covered to the south

and west by part of an old orchard of apple and pear trees, which

excluded the drying south-western breeze, so necessary in a low damp

situation. We transplanted nearly an acre of these, certainly with

more success and economy than could have been effected by Sir Henry’s

practice, the soil being so tenacious, that it was impossible to remove

the earth from the roots without fracturing all the smaller fibres.

The soil, an adhesive brown _Carse_ clay, contained a good deal of

vegetable matter, to the depth of about 15 inches, when the subsoil,

a close hard yellow clay commenced, into which very few of the roots

penetrated. This ground had been long under grass, and the upper soil

was much bound together by the grass and tree roots. Under these

circumstances we adopted the following plan:—{236}

We first had a stout sledge made, about four feet square, of lumber

pieces of wood, the side pieces about five feet long, on which it slid,

had a small bend, and extended nearly a foot behind the cross bottom

sheaths, which were sparred over with three narrow boards. The stout

chain of a roller was affixed to this sledge, when at use, to drag

it by. In the autumn we prepared the site where we intended placing

each tree, by throwing out the earth on two sides about a foot deep,

and eight feet square, and then dug over the bottom of this shallow

pit one spit deep, and sloped the two other sides, to which the earth

had not been thrown, so that horses could walk across it; we then

took the opportunity of a slight shower, when the ground was slippery

above and hard below, so that the sledge could easily be dragged, and

set the labourers to work to dig a narrow trench, two feet deep, and

about three feet distant from the stem (more or less according to the

size of the tree), around those trees we intended to remove, paying no

regard to the roots, but cutting them right down where they interfered

with the trench, and where the roots in the central part (the part

surrounded by the trench) were not immediately at the surface, paring

off the turf till the roots appeared. This being done, we caused them

to {237} under-dig and scrape out the clay all round, nearly a foot

inward below the roots, and then to introduce two large ladders at one

side as levers to upset the tree, the strong end of the ladders being

put into the trench, and as far underneath the roots as to catch hold

firmly, the outer side of the trench being the fulcrum on which they

rested to obtain a purchase, the light end sloping upward about 14

feet high. Two men were then employed upon each ladder; one of them

pulled down by a rope attached to the top, while the other guided the

ladder, and rocked it a little up and down; and, at the same time,

several men hung upon the opposite side of the tree, either by a rope

or the branches, till their united force upset the tree with a large

cake of clay bound together by the roots, five or six feet square, and

perhaps fifteen inches thick, standing up like a wall, similar to what

occurs when spruce or Scots fir are upset by high winds, in shallow

wet-bottomed soil. We then removed the ladders, sloped the outer side

of the trench where they had rested, and pared away the clay from the

upset root, till we thought four horses could drag it, one or two men

in the mean time sitting in the top to prevent the tree righting. After

this we introduced the sledge, pushing it as far back as possible; if

necessary, cutting holes to {238} admit the ends of the side-pieces of

the sledge through the lower edge of the upset root; and if the tree

were large, placing several wet slippery boards under the sides of the

sledge, that it might be more easily drawn up the acclivity of the

hole. The men hanging or sitting on the top, then let go their hold,

and the tree generally righted itself, standing fair upon the sledge as

it grew; if it did not do this of itself, they assisted its rising by

lifting at the top. The root was then secured firmly upon the sledge

with ropes, and the horses were attached, who, by pulling stoutly,

dragged the sledge with its load out of the hole up the slope, and away

to the prepared new situation, one man walking at each side, having

hold of a rope attached to the top of the tree to guide and steady it

when passing a furrow or other inequality of the road. The horses were

led across the new site, and stopped when the sledge and tree were in

the pit, about a foot past the berth; the ropes fixing the stool on the

sledge were then untied, and, by pulling backward upon the ropes fixed

to the top, the tree was upset again upon its side from off the sledge,

and the sledge dragged forward. The tree was then allowed or assisted

to right itself again in its proper berth, and friable earth packed

well around and scattered over the stool, and a little litter spread

over {239} all. The ground was then drained and trenched, excepting

the part around the tree, which had been stirred in the planting. If

thought necessary, a prop or two were placed to steady the tree during

the winter, as it might otherwise work a little back and forward with

the wind while the clay was moist and soft. After the earth had dried

in the spring, the props were removed.

When we look back on the description of this practice, it seems

tedious; but much of the work is done sooner than described. Were it

of sufficient importance, trees might be grown in something like _lazy

beds_, with water always standing in the dividing trenches, about

fifteen inches lower than the surface, which would procure roots very

manageable by this practice. We once had a small nursery of oaks so

situated, and the trees which were removed, when of considerable size,

had roots uncommonly matted and fibrous, and which carried with them a

large mass of soil. These succeeded very well when transplanted, but

we should consider that plants from a drier poorer soil, with roots

equally fibrous, would be preferable, could they be extracted with as

much adhering earth, which, however, could not be accomplished without

preparation and considerable labour. Were it the only consideration to

procure plants which would best {240} support the transplanting when

of considerable size, this, or the practice of cutting the roots, and

encouraging the rooting by manuring and thickening the earth around

the stool, would merit attention; but as we have already stated, we

consider plants with these matted roots not so likely to grow to large

timber as those with several unchecked large diverging root-leaders.

On Naval Timber and Arboriculture With Critical Notes on Authors who have Recently Treated the Subject of Planting · 第 5 / 7 章