Hill, was cultivated about a century ago. The native growth here, and in
all the surrounding region, was wholly oak, chestnut, etc. As the field
belonged to my grandfather, I had the best opportunity of learning its
history. It contained about five acres, in the form of an irregular
parallelogram. As the savages rendered the cultivation dangerous, it was
given up. On this ground there sprang up a grove of white pines covering
the field and retaining its figure exactly. So far as I remember, there
was not in it a single oak or chestnut tree ... There was not a single
pine whose seeds were, or, probably, had for ages been, sufficiently
near to have been planted on this spot. The fact that these white pines
covered this field exactly, go as to preserve both its extent and its
figure, and that there were none in the neighborhood, are decisive
proofs that cultivation brought up the seeds of a former forest within
the limits of vegetation, and gave them an opportunity to germinate."
See, on the Succession of the Forest, Thoreau, Excursions, p. l35 et
seqq.]
Although, therefore, the destruction of a wood and the reclaiming of the
soil to agricultural uses suppose the death of its smaller dependent
flora, these revolutions do not exclude the possibility of its
resurrection. In a practical view of the subject, however, we must admit
that when the woodman fells a tree he sacrifices the colony of humbler
growths which had vegetated under its protection. Some wood-plants are
known to possess valuable medicinal properties, and experiment may show
that the number of these is greater than we now suppose. Few of them,
however, have any other economical value than that of furnishing a
slender pasturage to cattle allowed to roam in the woods; and even this
small advantage is far more than compensated by the mischief done to the
young trees by browsing animals. Upon the whole, the importance of this
class of vegetables, as physic or as food, is not such as to furnish a
very telling popular argument for the conservation of the forest as a
necessary means of their perpetuation. More potent remedial agents may
supply their place in the materia medica, and an acre of grass-land
yields more nutriment for cattle than a range of a hundred acres of
forest. But he whose sympathies with nature have taught him to feel that
there is a fellowship between all God's creatures; to love the brilliant
ore better than the dull ingot, iodic silver and crystallized red copper
better than the shillings and the pennies forged from them by the
coiner's cunning; a venerable oak-tree than the brandy-cask whose staves
are split out from its heart-wood; a bed of anemones, hepaticas, or wood
violets than the leeks and onions which he may grow on the soil they
have enriched and in the air they made fragrant--he who has enjoyed that
special training of the heart and intellect which can be acquired only
in the unviolated sanctuaries of nature, "where man is distant, but God is
near"--will not rashly assert his right to extirpate a tribe of harmless
vegetables, barely because their products neither tickle his palate nor
fill his pocket; and his regret at the dwindling area of the forest
solitude will be augmented by the reflection that the nurselings of the
woodland perish with the pines, the oaks, and the beeches that sheltered
them. [Footnote: Quaint old Valvasor had observed the subduing influence
of nature's solitudes. In describing the lonely Canker-Thal, which,
though rocky, was in his time well wooded with "fir, larches, beeches
and other trees," he says:
"Gladsomeness and beauty, which dwell in many valleys, may not be looked
for there. The journey through it is cheerless, melancholy, wearisome,
and serveth to temper and mortify orer-joyousness of thought ... In sum
it is a very desert, wherein the wildness of human pride doth grow
tame."--Ehre der Crain, i., p. 186, b.]
Although, as I have said in a former chapter, birds do not frequent the
deeper recesses of the wood, yet a very large proportion of them build
their nests in trees, and find in their foliage and branches a secure
retreat from the inclemencies of the seasons and the pursuit of the
reptiles and quadrupeds which prey upon them. The borders of the forests
are vocal with song; and when the gray and dewy morning calls the
creeping things of the earth out of their night-cells, it summons from
the neighboring wood legions of their winged enemies, which swoop down
upon the fields to save man's harvests by devouring the destroying worm,
and surprising the lagging beetle in his tardy retreat to the dark cover
where he lurks through the hours of daylight.
The insects most injurious to the rural industry of the garden and the
ploughland do not multiply in or near the woods. The locust, which
ravages the East with its voracious armies, is bred in vast open plains
which admit the full heat of the sun to hasten the hatching of the eggs,
gather no moisture to destroy them, and harbor no bird to feed upon
thelarvae. [Footnote: Smela, in the government of Kiew, has, for some
years, not suffered at all from the locusts, which formerly came every
year in vast swarms, and the curculio, so injurious to the turnip crops,
is less destructive there than in other parts of the province. This
improvement is owing partly to the more thorough cultivation of the
soil, partly to the groves which are interspersed among the ploughlands.
... When in the midst of the plains woods shall be planted and filled
with insectivorous birds, the locusts will cease to be a plague and a
terror to the farmer.--Rentzsch, Der Wald, pp. 45, 46.] It is only since
the felling of the forests of Asia Minor and Cyrene that the locust has
become so fearfully destructive in those countries; and the grasshopper,
which now threatens to be almost as great a pest to the agriculture of
some North American soils, breeds in seriously injurious numbers only
where a wide extent of surface is bare of woods.
General Functions of Forests.
In the preceding pages we have seen that the electrical and chemical
action of the forest, though obscure, exercises probably a beneficial,
certainly not an injurious, influence on the composition and condition
of the atmosphere; that it serves as a protection against the diffusion
of miasmatic exhalations and malarious poisons; that it performs a most
important function as a mechanical shelter from blasting winds to
grounds and crops in the lee of it; that, as a conductor of heat, it
tends to equalize the temperature of the earth and the air; that its
dead products form a mantle over the surface, which protects the earth
from excessive heat and cold; that the evaporation from the leaves of
living trees, while it cools the air around them, diffuses through the
atmosphere a medium which resists the escape of warmth from the earth by
radiation, and hence that its general effect is to equilibrate caloric
influences and moderate extremes of temperature.
We have seen, further, that the forest is equally useful as a regulator
of terrestrial and of atmospheric humidity, preventing by its shade the
drying up of the surface by parching winds and the scorching rays of the
sun, intercepting a part of the precipitation, and pouring out a vast
quantity of aqueous vapor into the atmosphere; that if it does not
increase the amount of rain, it tends to equalize its distribution both
in time and in place; that it preserves a hygrometric equilibrium in the
superior strata of the earth's surface; that it maintains and regulates
the flow of springs and rivulets; that it checks the superficial
discharge of the waters of precipitation and consequently tends to
prevent the sudden rise of rivers, the violence of floods, the formation
of destructive torrents, and the abrasion of the surface by the action
of running water; that it impedes the fall of avalanches and of rocks,
and destructive slides of the superficial strata of mountains; that it
is a safeguard against the breeding of locusts, and finally that it
furnishes nutriment and shelter to many tribes of animal and of
vegetable life which, if not necessary to man's existence, are conducive
to his rational enjoyment. In fine, in well-wooded regions, and in
inhabited countries where a due proportion of soil is devoted to the
growth of judiciously distributed forests, natural destructive
tendencies of all sorts are arrested or compensated, and man, bird,
beast, fish, and vegetable alike find a constant uniformity of condition
most favorable to the regular and harmonious coexistence of them all.
General Consequences of the Destruction of the Forest.
With the extirpation of the forest, all is changed. At one season, the
earth parts with its warmth by radiation to an open sky--receives, at
another, an immoderate heat from the unobstructed rays of the sun. Hence
the climate becomes excessive, and the soil is alternately parched by
the fervors of summer, and seared by the rigors of winter. Bleak winds
sweep unresisted over its surface, drift away the snow that sheltered it
from the frost, and dry up its scanty moisture. The precipitation
becomes as irregular as the temperature; the melting snows and vernal
rains, no longer absorbed by a loose and bibulous vegetable mould, rush
over the frozen surface, and pour down the valleys seawards, instead of
filling a retentive bed of absorbent earth, and storing up a supply of
moisture to feed perennial springs. The soil is bared of its covering of
leaves, broken and loosened by the plough, deprived of the fibrous
rootlets which held it together, dried and pulverized by sun and wind,
and at last exhausted by new combinations. The face of the earth is no
longer a sponge, but a dust-heap, and the floods which the waters of the
sky pour over it hurry swiftly along its slopes, carrying in suspension
vast quantities of earthy particles which increase the abrading power
and mechanical force of the current, and, augmented by the sand and
gravel of falling banks, fill the beds of the streams, divert them into
new channels, and obstruct their outlets. The rivulets, wanting their
former regularity of supply and deprived of the protecting shade of the
woods, are heated, evaporated, and thus reduced in their summer
currents, but swollen to raging torrents in autumn and in spring. From
these causes, there is a constant degradation of the uplands, and a
consequent elevation of the beds of water-courses and of lakes by the
deposition of the mineral and vegetable matter carried down by the
waters. The channels of great rivers become unnavigable, their estuaries
are choked up, and harbors which once sheltered large navies are shoaled
by dangerous sand-bars. The earth, stripped of its vegetable glebe,
grows less and less productive, and, consequently, less able to protect
itself by weaving a new network of roots to bind its particles together,
a new carpeting of turf to shield it from wind and sun and scouring
rain. Gradually it becomes altogether barren. The washing of the soil
from the mountains leaves bare ridges of sterile rock, and the rich
organic mould which covered them, now swept down into the dank low
grounds, promotes a luxuriance of aquatic vegetation, that breeds fever,
and more insidious forms of mortal disease, by its decay, and thus the
earth is rendered no longer fit for the habitation of man. [Footnote:
Almost every narrative of travel in those countries which were the
earliest seats of civilization, contains evidence of the truth of these
general statements, and this evidence is presented with more or less
detail in most of the special works on the forest which I have occasion
to cite. I may refer particularly to Hohenstein, Der Wald, 1860, as
full of important facts on this subject. See also Caimi, Cenni sulla
Importanza dei Boschi, for some statistics, not readily found elsewhere,
on this and other topics connected with the forest.]
To the general truth of this sad picture there are many exceptions, even
in countries of excessive climates. Some of these are due to favorable
conditions of surface, of geological structure, and of the distribution
of rain; in many others, the evil consequences of man's improvidence
have not yet been experienced, only because a sufficient time has not
elapsed, since the felling of the forest, to allow them to develop
themselves. But the vengeance of nature for the violation of her
harmonies, though slow, is sure, and the gradual deterioration of soil
and climate in such exceptional regions is as certain to result from the
destruction of the woods as is any natural effect to follow its cause.
Due Proportion of Woodland.
The proportion of woodland that ought to be permanently maintained for
its geographical and atmospheric influences varies according to the
character of soil, surface, and climate. In countries with a humid sky,
or moderately undulating surface and an equable temperature, a small
extent of forest, enough to serve as a mechanical screen against the
action of the wind in localities where such protection is needed,
suffices. But most of the territory occupied by civilized man is
exposed, by the character of its surface and its climate, to a physical
degradation which cannot be averted except by devoting a large amount of
soil to the growth of the woods.
From an economical point of view, the question of the due proportion of
forest is not less complicated or less important than in its purely
physical aspects. Of all the raw materials which nature supplies for
elaboration by human art, wood is undoubtedly the most useful, and at
the same time the most indispensable to social progress. [Footnote: In
an imaginary dialogue in the Recepte Veritable, the author, Palissy,
having expressed his indignation at the folly of men in destroying the
woods, his interlocutor defends the policy of felling them, by citing
the example of "divers bishops, cardinals, priors, abbots, monkeries and
chapters, which, by cutting their woods, have made three profits, "the
sale of the timber, the rent of the ground, and the "good portion" they
received of the grain grown by the peasants upon it. To this argument
Palissy replies: "I cannot enough detest this thing, and I call it not
an error, but a curse and a calamity to all France; for when forests
shall be cut, all arts shall cease, and they which practise them shall
be driven out to eat grass with Nebuchadnezzar and the beasts of the
field. I have divers times thought to set down in writing the arts which
shall perish when there shall be no more wood; but when I had written
down a great number, I did perceive that there could be no end of my
writing, and having diligently considered, I found there was not any
which could be followed without wood." ... "And truly I could well
allege to thee a thousand reasons, but 'tis so cheap a philosophy, that
the very chamber-wenches, it they do but think, may see that without
wood, it is not possible to exercise any manner of human art or
cunning."--Oeuvres de Bernard Pallisy . Paris, 1844, p. 89.]
The demand for wood, and of course the quantity of forest required to
furnish it, depend upon the supply of fuel from other sources, such as
peat and coal, upon the extent to which stone, brick, or metal can
advantageously be substituted for wood in building, upon the development
of arts and industries employing wood and other forest products as
materials, and upon the cost of obtaining them from other countries, or
upon their commercial value as articles of export.
Upon the whole, taking civilized Europe and America together, it is
probable that from twenty to twenty-five per cent. of well-wooded
surface is indispensable for the maintenance of normal physical
conditions, and for the supply of materials so essential to every branch
of human industry and every form of social life as those which compose
the harvest of the woods.
There is probably no country--there are few large farms even--where at
least one-fourth of the soil is not either unfit for agricultural use,
or so unproductive that, as pasture or as ploughland, it yields less
pecuniary return than a thrifty wood. Every prairie has its sloughs
where willows and poplars would find a fitting soil, every Eastern farm
its rocky nooks and its barren hillsides suited to the growth of some
species from our rich forest flora, and everywhere belts of trees might
advantageously be planted along the roadsides and the boundaries and
dividing fences. In most cases, it will be found that trees may be made
to grow well where cultivated crops will not repay the outlay of
tillage, and it is a very plain dictate of sound economy that if trees
produce a better profit than the same ground would return if devoted to
grass or grain, the wood should be substituted for the field.
Woodland in European Countries.
In 1862, Rentzsch calculated the proportions of woodland in different
European countries as follows: [Footnote: Der Wald, pp. 123, 124.]
Norway.................................. 66 per cent.
Sweden.................................. 60 "
Russia.................................. 30.00 "
Germany................................. 26.58 "
Belgium................................. 18.52 "
France.................................. 16.79 "
Switzerland............................. 15 "
Sardinia................................. 12.29
Neapolitan States........................ 9.43 "
Holland.................................. 7.10 "
Spain.................................... 5.52 "
Denmark.................................. 5.50 "
Great Britain............................ 5 "
Portugal................................. 4.40 "
The large proportion of woodland in Norway and Sweden is in a great
measure to be ascribed to the mountainous character of the surface,
which renders the construction of roads difficult and expensive, and
hence the forests are comparatively inaccessible, and transportation is
too costly to tempt the inhabitants to sacrifice their woods for the
sake of supplying distant markets.
The industries which employ wood as a material have only lately been
much developed in these countries, and though the climate requires the
consumption of much wood as a fuel, the population is not numerous
enough to create, for this purpose, a demand exceeding the annually
produced supply, or to need any great extension of cleared ground for
agricultural purposes. Besides this, in many places peat is generally
employed as domestic fuel. Hence, though Norway has long exported a
considerable quantity of lumber, [Footnote: Railway-ties, or, as they
are called in England, sleepers, are largely exported from Norway to
India, and sold at Calcutta at a lower price than timber of equal
quality can be obtained from the native woods.--Reports on Forest
Conservancy, vol. i., pt. ii., p. 1533.
From 1861 to 1870 Norway exported annually, on the average, more than
60,000,000 cubic feet of lumber.--Wulfsberg, Norges Velstandskilder.
Christiania, 1872.] and the iron and copper works of Sweden consume
charcoal very largely, the forests have not diminished rapidly enough to
produce very sensible climatic or even economic evils.
At the opposite end of the scale we find Holland, Denmark, Great
Britain, Spain, and Portugal. In the three first-named countries a cold
and humid climate renders the almost constant maintenance of domestic
fires a necessity, while in Great Britain especially the demand of the
various industries which depend on wood as a material, or on mechanical
power derived from heat, are very great. Coal and peat serve as a
combustible instead of wood in them all, and England imports an immense
quantity of timber from her foreign possessions. Fortunately, the
character of soil, surface, and climate renders the forest of less
importance as a geographical agent in these northern regions than in
Spain and Portugal, where all physical conditions concur to make a large
extent of forest an almost indispensable means of industrial progress
and social advancement.
Rentzsch, in fact, ascribes the political decadence of Spain almost
wholly to the destruction of the forest. "Spain," observes he, "seemed
destined by her position to hold dominion over the world, and this in
fact she once possessed. But she has lost her political ascendancy,
because, during the feeble administration of the successors of Philip
II., her exhausted treasury could not furnish the means of creating new
fleets, the destruction of the woods having raised the price of timber
above the means of the state." [Footnote: Der Wald, p. 63. Antonio Ponz
(Viage de Espana, i., prologo, p. lxiii.), says: "Nor would this be so
great an evil, were not some of them declaimers against TREES, thereby
proclaiming themselves, in some sort, enemies of the works of God, who
gave us the leafy abode of Paradise to dwell in, where we should be even
now sojourning, but for the first sin, which expelled us from it."
I do not know at what period the two Castiles were bared of their woods,
but the Spaniard's proverbial "hatred of a tree" is of long standing.
Herrera combats this foolish prejudice; and Ponz, in the prologue to the
ninth volume of his journey, says that many carried it so far as
wantonly to destroy the shade and ornamental trees planted by the
municipal authorities. "Trees," they contended, and still believe,
"breed birds, and birds eat up the grain." Our author argues against the
supposition of the "breeding of birds by trees," which, he says, is as
absurd as to believe that an elm-tree can yield pears; and he charitably
suggests that the expression is, perhaps, a maniere de dire, a popular
phrase, signifying simply that trees harbor birds.] On the other hand,
the same writer argues that the wealth and prosperity of modern England
are in great part due to the supply of lumber, as well as of other
material for ship-building, which she imports from her colonies and
other countries with which she maintains commercial relations.
Forests of Great Britain.
The proportion of forest is very small in Great Britain, where, as I
have said, on the one hand, a prodigious industrial activity requires a
vast supply of ligneous material, but where, on the other, the abundance
of coal, which furnishes a sufficiency of fuel, the facility of
importation of timber from abroad, and the conditions of climate and
surface combine to reduce the necessary quantity of woodland to its
lowest expression.
With the exception of Russia, Denmark, and parts of Germany, no European
countries can so well dispense with the forests, in their capacity of
conservative influences, as England and Ireland. Their insular position
and latitude secure an abundance of atmospheric moisture; the general
inclination of surface is not such as to expose it to special injury
from torrents, and it is probable that the most important climatic
action exercised by the forest in these portions of the British empire,
is in its character of a mechanical screen against the effects of wind.
The due proportion of woodland in England and Ireland is, therefore, a
question not of geographical, but almost purely of economical,
expediency, to be decided by the comparative direct pecuniary return
from forest-growth, pasturage, and ploughland.
Contrivances for economizing fuel came later into use in the British
Islands than on the Continent. Before the introduction of a system of
drainage, the soil, like the sky, was, in general, charged with
humidity; its natural condition was unfavorable for the construction and
maintenance of substantial common roads, and the transportation of so
heavy a material as coal, by land, from the remote counties where alone
it was mined in the Middle Ages, was costly and difficult. For all these
reasons, the consumption of wood was large, and apprehensions of the
exhaustion of the forests were excited at an early period. Legislation
there, as elsewhere, proved ineffectual to protect them, and many
authors of the sixteenth century express fears of serious evils from the
wasteful economy of the people in this respect. Harrison, in his curious
chapter "Of Woods and Marishes" in Holinshed's compilation, complains of
the rapid decrease of the forests, and adds: "Howbeit thus much I dare
affirme, that if woods go so fast to decaie in the next hundred yeere of
Grace, as they haue doone and are like to doo in this, . . . it is to be
feared that the fennie bote, broome, turfe, gall, heath, firze, brakes,
whinnes, ling, dies, hassacks, flags, straw, sedge, reed, rush, and also
seacole, will be good merchandize euen in the citie of London, whereunto
some of them euen now haue gotten readie passage, and taken up their
innes in the greatest merchants' parlours . . . . I would wish that I
might liue no longer than to see foure things in this land reformed,
that is: the want of discipline in the church: the couetous dealing of
most of our merchants in the preferment of the commodities of other
countries, and hinderance of their owne: the holding of faires and
markets vpon the sundaie to be abolished and referred to the
wednesdaies: and that euerie man, in whatsoeuer part of the champaine
soile enioieth fortie acres of land, and vpwards, after that rate,
either by free deed, copie hold, or fee farme, might plant one acre of
wood, or sowe the same with oke mast, hasell, beech, and sufficient
prouision be made that it may be cherished and kept. But I feare me that
I should then liue too long, and so long, that I should either be wearie
of the world, or the world of me." [Footnote: Holinshed, reprint of
1807, i., pp. 357, 358. It is evident from this passage, and from
another on page 397 of the same volume, that, though seacoal was largely
exported to the Continent, it had not yet come into general use in
England. It is a question of much interest, when mineral coal was first
employed in England for fuel. I can find no evidence that it was used as
a combustible until more than a century after the Norman conquest. It
has been said that it was known to the Anglo-Saxon population, but I am
acquainted with no passage in the literature of that people which proves
this. The dictionaries explain the Anglo-Saxon word grofa by sea-coal. I
have met with this word in no Anglo-Saxon work, except in the Chronicle,
A.D. 852, from a manuscript certainly not older than the 12th century,
and in two citations from Anglo-Saxon charters, one published by Kemble
in Codex Diplomaticus, the other by Thorpe in Diplomatarium Anglicum, in
all which passages it more probably means peat than mineral coal.
According to Way, Promptorium Parrulorum, p. 506, note, the Catholicon
Anglicanum has "A turfe grafte, turbarium." Grafte is here evidently the
same word as the A.-S. grafa, and the Danish Torvegraf, a turf-pit,
confirms this opinion. Coal is not mentioned in King Alfred's Bede, in
Neckam, in Glanville or in Robert of Gloucester, though the two latter
writers speak of the allied mineral, jet, and are very full in their
enumeration of the mineral productions of the island. In a Latin poem
ascribed to Giraldus Cambrensis, who died after the year 1220, but found
also in the manuesripts of Walter Mapes (see Camden Society edition, pp.
131 and 350), and introduced into Higden's Polychronicon (London, 1865,
pp. 398, 399), carbo sub terra cortice, which can mean nothing but
pit-coal, is enumerated among the natural commodities of England. Some
of the translations of the 13th and 14th century render carbo by cool or
col, some by gold, and some omit this line, as well as others
unintelligible to the translators. Hence, although Giraldus was
acquainted with coal, it certainly was not generally known to English
writers until at least a century after the time of that author.
The earliest mediaeval notice of mineral coal I have met with is in a
passage cited by Ducange from a document of the year 1198, and it is an
etymological observation of some interest, that carbones ferrei, as
sea-coal is called in the document, are said by Ducange to have been
known in France by the popular name of hulla, a word evidently identical
with the modern French houille and the Cornish Huel, which in the form
wheal is an element in the name of many mining localities.
England was anciently remarkable for its forests, but Caesar says it
wanted the fagus and the abies. There can be no doubt that fagus means
the beech, which, as the remains in the Danish peat-mosses show, is a
tree of late introduction into Denmark, where it succeeded the fir, a
tree not now native to that country. The succession of forest crops
seems to have been the same in England; for Harrison, p. 359, speaks of
the "great store of firre" found lying "at their whole lengths" in the
"fens and marises" of Lancashire and other counties, where not even
bushes grew in his time. We cannot be sure what species of evergreen
Caesar intended by abies. The popular designations of spike-leaved trees
are always more vague and uncertain in their application than those of
broad-leaved trees. PINUS, PINE, has been very loosely employed even in
botanical nomenclature, and KIEFER, FICHTE, and TANNE are often
confounded in German.--Rossmassler, Der Wald, pp. 256, 289, 324. A
similar confusion in the names of this family of trees exists in India.
Dr. Cleghorn, Inspector-General of the Indian Forests, informs us in his
official Circular No. 2, that the name of deodar is applied in some
provinces to a cypress, in some to a cedar, and in others to a juniper.
If it were certain that the abies of Caesar was the fir formerly and
still found in peat-mosses, and that he was right in denying the
existence of the beech in England in his time, the observation would be
very important, because it would fix a date at which the fir had become
extinct, and the beech had not yet appeared in the island.
The English oak, though strong and durable, was not considered generally
suitable for finer work in the sixteenth century. There were, however,
exceptions. "Of all in Essex," observes Harrison, Holinshed, i., p.
357, "that growing in Bardfield parke is the finest for ioiners craft;
for oftentimes haue I seene of their workes made of that oke so fine and
faire, as most of the wainescot that is brought hither out of Danske
[Danzig]; for our wainescot is not made in England. Yet diuerse haue
assaied to deale with our okes to that end, but not with so good
successe as they haue hoped, bicause the ab or iuice will not so soone
be removed and cleane drawne out, which some attribute to want of time
in the salt water." This passage is also of interest as showing that
soaking in salt-water, as a mode of seasoning, was practised in
Harrison's time.
But the importation of wainscot, or boards for ceiling, panelling, and
otherwise finishing rooms, which was generally of oak, commenced at
least three centuries before the time of Harrison. On page 204 of the
Liber Albus mention is made of "squared oak timber," brought in from the
country by carts, and of course of domestic growth, as free of city duty
or octroi, and of "planks of oak" coming in in the same way as paying
one plank a cart-load. But in the chapter on the "Customs of
Billyngesgate," pp. 208, 209, relating to goods imported from foreign
countries, an import duty of one halfpenny is imposed on every hundred
of boards called "weynscotte"--a term formerly applied only to oak--and
of one penny on every hundred of boards called "Rygholt." The editor
explains "Rygholt" as "wood of Riga." This was doubtless pine or fir.
The year in which these provisions were made does not appear, but they
belong to the reign of Henry III.]
Evelyn's "Silva," the first edition of which appeared in 1664, rendered
an extremely important service to the cause of the woods, and there is
no doubt that the ornamental plantations in which England far surpasses
all other countries, are, in some measure, the fruit of Evelyn's
enthusiasm. In England, however, arboriculture, the planting and nursing
of single trees, has, until comparatively recent times, been better
understood than sylviculture, the sowing and training of the forest. But
this latter branch of rural improvement now receives great attention
from private individuals, though, so far as I know, not from the
National Government, except in the East Indian provinces, where the
forestal department has assumed great importance. [Footnote: The
improvidence of the population under the native and early foreign
governments has produced great devastations in the forests of the
British East Indian provinces, and the demands of the railways for fuel
and timber have greatly augmented the consumption of lumber, and of
course contributed to the destruction of the woods. The forests of
British India are now, and for several years have been, under the
control of an efficient governmental organization, with great advantage
both to the government and to the general private interests of the
people.
The official Reports on Forest Conservancy from May, 1862, to August,
1871, in 4 vols. folio, contain much statistical and practical
information on all subjects connected with the administration of the
forest.]
In fact, England is, I believe, the only European country where private
enterprise has pursued sylviculture on a really great scale, though
admirable examples have been set in many others. In England the law of
primogeniture, and other institutions and national customs which tend to
keep large estates long undivided and in the same line of inheritance,
the wealth of the landholders, the special adaptation of the climate to
the growth of forest-trees, and the difficulty of finding safe and
profitable investments of capital, combine to afford encouragements for
the plantation of forests, which scarcely exist elsewhere in the same
degree.
In Scotland, where the country is for the most part broken and
mountainous, the general destruction of the forests has been attended
with very serious evils, and it is in Scotland that many of the most
extensive British forest plantations have now been formed. But although
the inclination of surface in Scotland is rapid, the geological
constitution of the soil is not of a character to promote such
destructive degradation by running water as in Southern France, and it
has not to contend with the parching droughts by which the devastations
of the torrents are rendered more injurious in those provinces.
It is difficult to understand how either law or public opinion, in a
country occupied by a dense and intelligent population, and,
comparatively speaking, with an infertile soil, can tolerate the
continued withdrawal of a great portion of the territory from the
cultivation of trees and from other kinds of rural economy, merely to
allow wealthy individuals to amuse themselves with field-sports. In
Scotland, 2,000,000 acres, as well suited to the growth of forests and
for pasture as is the soil generally, are withheld from agriculture,
that they may be given up to herds of deer protected by the game laws. A
single nobleman, for example, thus appropriates for his own pleasures
not less than 100,000 acres. [Footnote: Robertson, Our Deer Forests.
London, 1867.] In this way one-tenth of all the land of Scotland is
rendered valueless in an economical point of view--for the returns from
the sale of the venison and other game scarcely suffice to pay the
game-keepers and other incidental expenses--and in these so-called
FORESTS there grows neither building timber nor fire-wood worth the
cutting, as the animals destroy the young shoots.
Forests of France.
The preservation of the woods was one of the wise measures recommended
to France by Sully, in the time of Henry IV., but the advice was little
heeded, and the destruction of the forests went on with such alarming
rapidity, that, two generations later, Colbert uttered the prediction:
"France will perish for want of wood." Still, the extent of wooded soil
was very great, and the evils attending its diminution were not so
sensibly felt, that either the government or public opinion saw the
necessity of authoritative interference, and in 1750 Mirabeau estimated
the remaining forests of the kingdom at seventeen millions of hectares
[42,000,000 acres]. In 1860 they were reduced to eight millions
[19,769,000 acres], or at the rate of 82,000 hectares [202,600 acres]
per year. Troy, from whose valuable pamphlet, Etude sur le Reboisement
des Montagnes, I take these statistical details, supposes that
Mirabeau's statement may have been an extravagant one, but it still
remains certain that the waste has been enormous; for it is known that,
in some departments, that of Ariege, for instance, clearing has gone on
during the last half-century at the rate of three thousand acres a year,
and in all parts of the empire trees have been felled faster than they
have grown. [Footnote: Among the indirect proofs of the comparatively
recent existence of extensive forests in France, may be mentioned the
fact that wolves were abundant, not very long since, in parts of the
empire where there are now neither wolves nor woods to shelter them.
Arthur Young more than once speaks of the "innumerable multitudes" of
these animals which infested France in 1789, and George Sand states, in
the Histoire de ma Vie, that some years after the restoration of the
Bourbons, they chased travellers on horseback in the southern provinces,
and literally knocked at the doors of her father-in-law's country seat.
Eugenie de Guerin, writing from Rayssac in Languedoc in 1831 speaks of
hearing the wolves fighting with dogs in the night under her very
windows. Lettres, 2d ed., p. 6.
There seems to have been a tendency to excessive clearing in Central and
Western, earlier than in South-eastern, France. Bernard Palissy, in the
Recepte Veritable, first printed in 1563, thus complains: "When I
consider the value of the least clump of trees, or even of thorns, I
much marvel at the great ignorance of men, who, as it seemeth, do
nowadays study only to break down, fell, and waste the fair forests
which their forefathers did guard so choicely. I would think no evil of
them for cutting down the woods, did they but replant again some part of
them; but they care nought for the time to come, neither reck they of
the great damage they do to their children which shall come after
them."--Oeuvres Completes de Bernard Pallisy, 1844, p. 88.] The total
area of France in Mirabeau's time, excluding Savoy, but including Alsace
and Lorraine, was about one hundred and thirty-one millions of acres.
The extent of forest supposed by Mirabeau would be about thirty-two per
cent. of the whole territory. In a country and a climate where the
conservative influences of the forest are so necessary as in France,
trees must cover a large surface and be grouped in large masses, in
order to discharge to the best advantage the various functions assigned
to them by nature. The consumption of wood is rapidly increasing in that
empire, and a large part of its territory is mountainous, sterile, and
otherwise such in character or situation that it can be more profitably
devoted to the growth of wood than to any agricultural use. Hence it is
evident that the proportion of forest in 1750, taking even Mirabeau's
large estimate, was not very much too great for permanent maintenance,
though doubtless the distribution was so unequal that it would have been
sound policy to fell the woods and clear land in some provinces, while
large forests should have been planted in others. [Footnote: The view I
have taken of this point is confirmed by the careful investigation of
Rentzsch, who estimates the proper proportion of woodland to entire
surface at twenty-three per cent. for the interior of Germany, and
supposes that near the coast, where the air is supplied with humidity by
evaporation from the sea, it might safely be reduced to twenty per cent.
See Rentzsch's very valuable prize essay, Der Wald im Haushalt der Natur
und der Volkswirthschaft. cap. viii.
The due proportion in France would considerably exceed that for the
German States, because France has relatively more surface unfit for any
growth but that of wood, because the form and geological character of
her mountains expose her territory to much greater injury from torrents,
and beause at least her southern provinces are more frequently visited
both by extreme droughts and by deluging rains.] During the period in
question France neither exported manufactured wood or rough timber, nor
derived important collateral advantages of any sort from the destruction
of her forests. She is consequently impoverished and crippled to the
extent of the difference between what she actually possesses of wooded
surface and what she ought to have retained. [Footnote: In 1863, France
imported lumber to the value of twenty-five and a half millions of
dollars, and exported to the amount of six and a half millions of
dollars. The annual consumption of France was estimated in 1866 at
212,000,000 cubic feet for building and manufacturing, and 1,588,300,000
for firewood and charcoal. The annual product of the forest-soil of
France does not exceed 70,000,000 cubic feet of wood fit for industrial
use, and 1,300,000,000 cubic feet consumed as fuel. This estimate does
not include the product of scattered trees on private grounds, but the
consumption is estimated to exceed the production of the forests by the
amount of about twenty millions of dollars. It is worth noticing that
the timber for building and manufacturing produced in France comes
almost wholly from the forests of the state or of the communes.--Jules
Clave, in Revue des Deux Mondes for March 1, 1866, p. 207.]
The force of the various considerations which have been suggested in
regard to the importance of the forest has been generally felt in
France, and the subject has been amply debated special treatises, in
scientific journals, and by the public press, as well as in the
legislative body of that country. Perhaps no one point has been more
prominent in the discussions than the influence of the forest in
equalizing and regulating the flow of the water of precipitation.
Opinion is still somewhat divided on this subject, but the value of the
woods as a safeguard against the ravages of torrents is universally
acknowledged, and it is hardly disputed that the rise of river-floods
is, even if as great, at least less sudden in streams having their
sources in well-wooded territory.
Upon the whole, the conservative action of the woods in regard to
torrents and to inundations has ben generally recognized by the public
of France as a matter of prime importance, and the Government of the
empire has made this principle the basis of a special system of
legislation for the protection of existing forests, and for the
formation of new. The clearing of woodland, and the organization and
functions of a police for its protection, are regulated by a law bearing
date June 18th, 1859, and provision was made for promoting the
restoration of private woods by a statute adopted on the 28th of July,
1860. The former of these laws passed the legislative body by a vote of
246 against 4, the latter with but a single negative voice. The
influence of the Government, in a country where the throne is as potent
as in France, would account for a large majority, but when it is
considered that both laws, the former especially, interfere very
materially with the rights of private domain, the almost entire
unanimity with which they were adopted is proof of a very general
popular conviction, that the protection and extension of the forests is
a measure more likely than any other to arrest the devastations of the
torrents and check the violence, if not to prevent the recurrence, of
destructive river inundations. The law of July 28th, 1860, appropriated
10,000,000 francs, to be expended, at the rate of 1,000,000 francs per
year, in executing or aiding the replanting of woods. It is computed
that this appropriation--which, considering the vast importance of the
subject, does not seem extravagant for a nation rich enough to be able
to expend annually six hundred times that sum in the maintenance of its
military establishments in times of peace--will secure the creation of
new forest to the extent of about 200,000 acres, or one fourteenth part
of the soil, where the restoration of the woods is thought feasible,
and, at the same time, specially important as a security against the
evils ascribed, in a great measure, to its destruction. [Footnote: In
1848 the Government of the so-called French Republic sold to the Bank of
France 187,000 acres of public forests, and notwithstanding the zeal
with which the Imperial Government had pressed the protective
Iegislation of 1860, it introduced, into the Legislative Assembly in
1865 a bill for the sale, and consequently destruction, of the forests
of the state to the amount of one hundred million francs. The question
was much debated in the Assembly, and public opinion manifested itself
so energetically against the measure that the ministry felt itself
compelled to withdraw it. See the discussions in D'Alienation des Forets
de l'Etat. Paris, 1865. The late Imperial Government sold about 170,000
acres of woodland between 1852 and 1866, both inclusive. The other
Governments, since the restoration of the Bourbons in 1814, alienated
more than 700,000 acres of the public forests, exclusive of sales
between 1836 and 1857, which are not reported.--Annuaire des Eaux et
Forets, 1872, p. 9.]
In 1865 the Legislative Assembly passed a bill amendatory of the law of
1860, providing, among other things, for securing the soil in exposed
localities by grading, and by promoting the growth of grass and the
formation of greensward over the surface. This has proved a most
beneficial measure, and its adoption under corresponding conditions in
the United States is most highly to be recommended. The leading features
of the system are:
1. Marking out and securing from pasturage and all other encroachments a
zone along the banks and around the head of ravines.
2. Turfing this zone, which in France accomplishes itself, if not
spontaneously, at least with little aid from art.
3. Consolidation of the scarps of the ravines by grading and wattling
and establishing barriers, sometimes of solid masonry, but generally of
fascines or any other simple materials at hand, across the bed of the
stream.
4. Cutting banquettes or narrow terraces along the scarps, and planting
rows of small deciduous trees and arborescent shrubs upon them,
alternating with belts of grass obtained by turfing with sods or sowing
grass-seeds. Planting the banquettes and slopes with bushes, and sowing
any other vegetables with tenacious roots, is also earnestly
recommended. [Footnote: See a description of similar processes
recommended and adopted by Mengotti, in his Idraulica, vol. ii., chap.
xvii.]
Remedies against Torrents.
The rural population, which in France is generally hostile to all forest
laws, soon acquiesced in the adoption of this system, and its success
has far surpassed all expectation. At the end of the year 1868 about
190,000 acres had been planted with trees, [Footnote: Travellers
spending the winter at Nice may have a good opportunity of studying the
methods of forming and conducting the rewooding of mountain slopes,
under the most unfavorable conditions, by visiting Mont Boron, in the
immediate vicinity of that city, and other coast plantations in that
province, where great difficulties have been completely overcome by the
skill and perseverance of French foresters. See Les Forets des Maures,
Revue des Eaux et Forets, January, 1869.] and nearly 7,000 acres well
turfed over in the Department of the Hautes Alpes. Many hundred ravines,
several of which had been the channels of formidable torrents, had been
secured by barriers, grading and planting, and according to official
reports the aspect of the mountains in the Department, wherever these
methods were employed, had rapidly changed. The soil had acquired such
stability that the violent rains of 1868, so destructive elsewhere,
produced no damage in the districts which had been subjected to these
operations, and numerous growing torrents which threatened irreparable
mischief had been completely extinguished, or at least rendered
altogether harmless. [Footnote: For ample details of processes and
results, see the second volume of Surrell, Etudes sur les Torrents,
Paris, 1872, and a Report by De La Grye, in the Revue des Eaux et Forets
for January, 1869.]
Besides the processes directed by the Government of France, various
subsidiary measures of an easily and economically practicable character
have been suggested. Among them is one which has long been favorably
known in our Southern States under the name of circling, and the
adoption of which in hilly regions in other States is to be strongly
recommended.
It is simply a method of preventing the wash of surface by rains, and at
the same time of providing a substitute for irrigation of steep
pasture-grounds, consisting in little more than in running horizontal
furrows along the hillsides, thus converting the scarp of the hills into
a succession of small terraces which, when once turfed over, are very
permanent. Experience is said to have demonstrated that this simple
process at least partially checks the too rapid flow of surface-water
into the valleys, and, consequently, in a great measure obviates one of
the most prominent causes of inundations, and that it suffices to retain
the water of rains, of snows, and of small springs, long enough for the
irrigation of the soil, thus increasing its product of herbage in a
fivefold proportion. [Footnote: Troy, Etude sur le Reboisement des
Montagnes, sections 6, 7, 21.]
As a further recommendation, it may be observed that this process is an
admirable preparation of the ground for forest plantations, as young
trees planted on the terraces would derive a useful protection from the
form of the surface and the coating of turf, and would also find a soil
moist enough to secure their growth.
Forests of Italy.
According to the most recent statistics, Italy has 17.64 per cent. of
woodland, [Footnote: Siemoni, Manuale d'Arte Forestale, 2 ediz.,
Firenze, 1872, p. 542.] a proportion which, considering the character of
climate and surface, the great amount of soil which is fit for no other
purpose than the growth of trees, and the fact that much of the land
classed as forest is either very imperfectly wooded, or covered with
groves badly administered, and not in a state of progressive
improvement, might advantageously be doubled. Taking Italy as a whole,
we may say that she is eminently fitted by climate, soil, and
superficial formation, to the growth of a varied and luxuriant arboreal
vegetation, and that in the interests of self-protection, the promotion
of forestal industry is among the first duties of her people. There are
in Western Piedmont valleys where the felling of the woods has produced
consequences geographically and economically as disastrous as in
South-eastern France, and there are many other districts in the Alps and
the Apennines where human improvidence has been almost equally
destructive. Some of these regions must be abandoned to absolute
desolation, and for others the opportunity of physical restoration is
rapidly passing away. But there are still millions of square miles which
might profitably be planted with forest-trees, and thousands of acres of
parched and barren hillside, within sight of almost every Italian
provincial capital, which might easily and shortly be reclothed with
verdant woods. [Footnote: To one accustomed to the slow vegetation of
less favored climes, the rapidity of growth in young plantations in
Italy seems almost magical. The trees planted along the new drives and
avenues in Florence have attained in three or four years a development
which would require at least ten in our Northern States. This, it is
true, is a special case, for the trees have been planted and tended with
a skill and care which cannot be bestowed upon a forest; but the growth
of trees little cared for is still very rapid in Italy. According to
Toscanelli, Economia rurale nella Provincia di Pisa, p. 8, note--one of
the most complete, curious, and instructive pictures of rural life which
exists in any literature--the white poplar, Populus alba, attains in the
valley of the Serchio a great height, with a mean diameter of two feet,
in twenty years. Solmi states in his Miasma Palustre, p. 115, that the
linden reaches a diameter of sixteen inches in the same period. The
growth of foreign trees is sometimes extremely luxuriant in Italy. Two
Atlas cedars, at the well-known villa of Careggi, near Florence, grown
from seed sown in 1850, measure twenty inches in diameter, above the
swell of the roots, with an estimated height of sixty feet.]
The denudation of the Central and Southern Apennines and of the Italian
declivity of the Western Alps began at a period of unknown antiquity,
but it does not seem to have been carried to a very dangerous length
until the foreign conquests and extended commerce of Rome created a
greatly increased demand for wood for the construction of ships and for
military material. [Footnote: An interesting example of the collateral
effects of the destruction of the forests in ancient Italy may be found
in old Roman architecture. In the oldest brick constructions of Rome the
bricks are very thin, very thoroughly burnt, and laid with a thick
stratum of mortar between the courses. A few centuries later the bricks
were thicker and less well burnt, and the layers of mortar were thinner.
In the Imperial period the bricks were still thicker, generally
soft-burnt, and with little mortar between the courses. This fact, I
think, is due to the abundance and cheapness of fuel in earlier, and its
growing scarceness and dearness in later, ages. When wood cost little,
constructors could afford to burn their brick thoroughly, and to burn
and use a great quantity of lime. As the price of fire-wood advanced,
they were able to consume less fuel in brick- and lime-kilns, and the
quality and quantity of brick and lime used in building were gradually
reversed in proportion.
The multitude of geographical designations in Italy which indicate the
former existence of forests show that even in the Middle Ages there were
woods where no forest-trees are now to be found. There are hundreds of
names of mediaeval towns derived from abete, acero, carpino, castagno,
faggio, frassino, pino, quercia, and other names of trees.] The Eastern
Alps, the Western Apennines, and the Maritime Alps retained their
forests much later; but even here the want of wood, and the injury to
the plains and the nagivation of the rivers by sediment brought down by
the torrents, led to legislation for the protection of the forests, by
the Republic of Venice, at various periods between the fifteenth and the
nineteenth centuries, [Footnote: See A. de Bereuger's valuable Saggio
Storico della Legislazione Veneta Forestale. Venezia, 1863.
We do not find in the Venetian forestal legislation much evidence that
geographical arguments were taken into account by the lawgivers, who
seem to have had an eye only to economical considerations.
According to Hummel, the desolation of the Karst, the high plateau lying
north of Trieste, now one of the most parched and barren districts in
Europe, is owing to the felling of the woods, centuries ago, to build
the navies of Venice. "Where the miserable peasant of the Karst now sees
nothing but bare rock swept and scoured by the raging Bora, the fury of
this wind was once subdued by mighty firs, which Venice recklessly cut
down to build her fleets."--Physische Geographie, p. 32.] by that of
Genoa as early at least as the seventeenth; and both these Governments,
as well as several others, passed laws requiring the proprietors of
mountain-lands to replant the woods. These, however, seem to have been
little observed, and it is generally true that the present condition of
the forest in Italy is much less due to the want of wise legislation for
its protection than to the laxity of the Governments in enforcing their
laws.
It is very common in Italy to ascribe to the French occupation under the
first Empire all the improvements and all the abuses of recent times,
according to the political sympathies of the individual; and the French
are often said to have prostrated every forest which has disappeared
within this century. But, however this may be, no energetic system of
repression or restoration was adopted by any of the Italian States after
the downfall of the Empire, and the taxes on forest property in some of
them were so burdensome that rural municipalities sometimes proposed to
cede their common woods to the Government, without any other
compensation than the remission of the taxes imposed on forest-lands.
[Footnote: See the Politecnico for the month of May, 1862, p. 234.]
Under such circumstances, woodlands would soon become disafforested, and
where facilities of transportation and a good demand for timber have
increased the inducements to fell it, as upon the borders of the
Mediterranean, the destruction of the forest and all the evils which
attend it have gone on at a seriously alarming rate.
Gallenga gives a striking account of the wanton destruction of the
forests in Northern Italy within his personal recollection, [Footnote:
"Far away in the darkest recesses of the mountains a kind of universal
conspiracy seems to have been got up among these Alpine people,--a
destructive mania to hew and sweep down everything that stands on
roots."--Country Life in Piedmont, p. 134.
"There are huge pyramids of mountains now bare and bleak from base to
summit, which men still living and still young remember seeing richly
mantled with all but primeval forests."--Ibid., p. 135.] and there are
few Italians past middle life whose own memory will not supply similar
reminiscences. The clearing of the mountain valleys of the provinces of
Bergamo and of Bescia is recent, and Lombardini informs us the felling
of the woods in the Valtelline commenced little more than forty years
ago.
Although no country has produced more able writers on the value of the
forest and the general consequences of its destruction than Italy, yet
the specific geographical importance of the woods, except as a
protection against inundations, has not been so clearly recognized in
that country as in the States bordering it on the north and west. It is
true that the face of nature has been as completely revolutionized by
man, and that the action of torrents has created almost as wide and as
hopeless devastation in Italy as in France; but in the French Empire the
recent desolation produced by clearing the forests is more extensive,
has been more suddenly effected, has occurred in less remote and obscure
localities, and therefore, excites a livelier and more general interest
than in Italy, where public opinion does not so readily connect the
effect with its true cause. Italy, too, from ancient habit, employs
little wood in architectural construction; for generations she has
maintained no military or commercial marine large enough to require
exhaustive quantities of timber, [Footnote: The great naval and
commercial marines of Venice and of Genoa must have occasioned an
immense consumption of lumber in the Middle Ages, and the centuries
immediately succeeding those commonly embraced in that designation. The
marine construction of that period employed larger timbers than the
modern naval architecture of most commercial countries, but apparently
without a proportional increase of strength. The old modes of
ship-building have been, to a considerable extent, handed down to very
recent times in the Mediterranean, and though better models and modes of
construction are now employed in Italian shipyards, an American or an
Englishman looks with astonishment at the huge beams and thick planks so
often employed in the construction of very small vessels navigating that
sea, and not yet old enough to be broken up as unseaworthy.] and the
mildness of her climate makes small demands on the woods for fuel.
Besides these circumstances, it must be remembered that the sciences of
observation did not become knowledges of practical application till
after the mischief was already mainly done and even forgotten in Alpine
Italy, while its evils were just beginning to be sensibly felt in France
when the claims of natural philosophy as a liberal study were first
acknowledged in modern Europe. The former political condition of the
Italian Peninsula would have effectually prevented the adoption of a
general system of forest economy, however clearly the importance of a
wise administration of this great public interest might have been
understood. The woods which controlled and regulated the flow of the
river-sources were very often in one jurisdiction, the plains to be
irrigated, or to be inundated by floods and desolated by torrents, in
another. Concert of action, on such a subject, between a multitude of
jealous petty sovereignties, was obviously impossible, and nothing but
the permanent union of all the Italian States under a single government
can render practicable the establishment of such arrangements for the
conservation and restoration of the forests, and the regulation of the
flow of the waters, as are necessary for the full development of the yet
unexhausted resources of that fairest of lands, and even for the
maintenance of the present condition of its physical geography.
The Forests of Germany.
Germany, including a considerable part of the Austrian Empire, from
character of surface and climate, and from the attention which has long
been paid in all the German States to sylviculture, is in a far better
condition in this respect than its more southern neighbors; and though
in the Alpine provinces of Bavaria and Austria the corresponding
districts of Switzerland, Italy, and France, has produced effects hardly
less disastrous, [Footnote: As an instance of the scarcity of fuel in
some parts of the territory of Bavaria, where, not long since, wood
abounded, I may mention the fact that the water of salt-springs is, in
some instances, conveyed to the distance of sixty miles, in iron pipes,
to reach a supply of fuel for boiling it down.
In France, the juice of the sugar-beet is sometimes carried three or
four miles in pipes for the same reason.
Many of my readers may remember that it was not long ago proposed to
manufacture the gas for the supply of London at the mouths of the coal-
mines, and convey it to the city in pipes, thus saving the
transportation of the coal; but as the coke and mineral tar would still
have remained to be disposed of, the operation would probably not have
proved advantageous.
Great economy in the production of petroleum has resulted from the
application of cast-iron tubes to the wells instead of barrels; the oil
is thus carried over the various inequalities of surface for three or
four miles to the tanks on the railroads, and forced into them by
steam-engines. The price of transport is thus reduced one-fifth.] yet,
as a whole, the German States, as Siemoni well observes, must be
considered as in this respect the model countries of Europe. Not only is
the forest area in general maintained without diminution, but new woods
are planted where they are specially needed, [Footnote: The Austrian
Government is making energetic efforts for the propagation of forests on
the desolate waste of the Karst. The difficulties from drought and from
the violence of the winds, which might prove fatal to young and even to
somewhat advanced plantations, are very serious, but in 1866 upwards of
400,000 trees had been planted and great quantities of seeds sown. Thus
far, the results of this important experiment are said to be
encouraging. See the Chronique Forestiere in the Revue des Eaux et
Forets, Feb. 1870.] and, though the slow growth of forest-trees in those
climates reduces the direct pecuniary returns of woodlands to a minimum,
the governments wisely persevere in encouraging this industry. The
exportation of sawn lumber from Trieste is large, and in fact the
Turkish and Egyptian markets are in great part supplied from this
source. [Footnote: For information respecting the forests of Germany, as
well as other European countries, see, besides the works already cited,
the very valuable Manuale d'Arts Forestale of Siemoni, 2de edizione,
Firenze, 1872.]
Forests of Russia.
Russia, which we habitually consider as substantially a forest
country--which has in fact a large proportion of woodland--is beginning
to suffer seriously for want of wood. Jourdier observes: "Instead of a
vast territory with immense forests, which we expect to meet, one sees
only scattered groves thinned by the wind or by the axe of the moujik,
grounds cut over and more or less recently cleared for cultivation.
There is probably not a single district in Russia which has not to
deplore the ravages of man or of fire, those two great enemies of
Muscovite sylviculture. This is so true, that clear-sighted men already
foresee a crisis which will become terrible, unless the discovery of
great deposits of some new combustible, as pit-coal or anthracite, shall
diminish its evils." [Footnote: Clave, Etudes sur l'Economie Forestiere,
p. 261. Clave adds (p. 262): "The Russian forests are very unequally
distributed through the territory of this vast empire. In the north they
form immense masses, and cover whole provinces, while in the south they
are so completely wanting that the inhabitants have no other fuel than
straw, dung, rushes, and heath." ... "At Moscow, firewood costs thirty
per cent. more than at Paris, while, at the distance of a few leagues,
it sells for a tenth of that price."
This state of things is partly due to the want of facilities of
transportation, and some parts of the United States are in a similar
condition. During a severe winter, ten or twelve years ago, the sudden
freezing of the canals and rivers, before a large American town had
received its usual supply of fuel, occasioned an enormous rise in the
price of wood and coal, and the poor suffered severely for want of it.
Within a few hours of the city were large forests and an abundant stock
of firewood felled and prepared for burning.
This might easily have been carried to town by the railroads which
passed through the woods; but the managers of the roads refused to
receive it as freight, because a rival market for wood might raise the
price of the fuel they employed for their locomotives. Truly, our
railways "want a master."
Hohenstein, who was long professionally employed as a forester in
Russia, describes the consequences of the general war upon the woods in
that country as already most disastrous, and as threatening still more
ruinous evils. The river Volga, the life artery of Russian internal
commerce, is drying up from this cause, and the great Muscovite plains
are fast advancing to a desolation like that of Persia.--Der Wald, p.
223.
The level of the Caspian Sea is eighty-three feet lower than that of the
Sea of Azoff, and the surface of Lake Aral is fast sinking. Von Baer
maintains that the depression of the Caspian was produced by a sudden
subsidence, from ecological causes, and not gradually by excess of
evaporation over supply. See Kaspische Studien, p. 25. But this
subsidence diminished the area and consequently the evaporation of that
sea, and the rivers which once maintained its ancient equilibrium ought
to have raised it to its former level, if their own flow had not been
diminished. It is, indeed, not proved that the laying bare of a wooded
country diminishes the total annual precipitation upon it; but it is
certain that the summer delivery of water from the surface of a
champaign region, like that through which the Volga, its tributaries,
and the feeders of Lake Aral, flow, is lessened by the removal of its
woods. Hence, though as much rain may still fall in the valleys of those
rivers as when their whole surface was covered with forests, more
moisture may be carried off by evaporation, and a less quantity of water
be discharged by the rivers since their basins were cleared, and
therefore the present condition of the inland waters in question may be
due to the removal of the forests in their valleys and the adjacent
plains.]
Forests of United States.
I greatly doubt whether any one of the American States, except, perhaps,
Oregon, has, at this moment, more woodland than it ought permanently to
preserve, though, no doubt, a different distribution of the forests in
all of them might be highly advantageous. It is, perhaps, a misfortune
to the American Union that the State Governments have so generally
disposed of their original domain to private citizens. It is true that
public property is not sufficiently respected in the United States; and
within the memory of almost every man of mature age, timber was of so
little value in the northernmost States that the owners of private
woodlands submitted, almost without complaint, to what would be regarded
elsewhere as very aggravated trespasses upon them. [Footnote: According
to the maxims of English jurisprudence, the common law consists of
general customs so long established that "the memory of man runneth not
to the contrary." In other words, long custom makes law. In new
countries, the change of circumstances creates new customs, and, in
time, new law, without the aid of legislation. Had the American
colonists observed a more sparing economy in the treatment of their
woods, a new code of customary forest-law would have sprung up and
acquired the force of a statute. Popular habit was fast elaborating the
fundamental principles of such a code, when the rapid increase in the
value of timber, in consequence of the reckless devastation of the
woodlands, made it the interest of the proprietors to interfere with
this incipient system of forest jurisprudence, and appeal to the rules
of English law for the protection of their woods. The courts have
sustained these appeals, and forest property is now legally as
inviolable as any other, though common opinion still combats the course
of judicial decision on such questions.] Persons in want of timber
helped themselves to it wherever they could find it, and a claim for
damages, for so insignificant a wrong as cutting down and carrying off a
few pine or oak trees, was regarded as a mean-spirited act in a
proprietor. The habits formed at this period are not altogether
obsolete, and even now the notion of a common right of property in the
woods still lingers, if not as an opinion at least as a sentiment. Under
such circumstances it has been difficult to protect the forest, whether
it belong to the State or to individuals. Property of this kind is
subject to plunder, as well as to frequent damage by fire. The
destruction from these causes would, indeed, considerably lessen, but
would by no means wholly annihilate the climatic and geographical
influences of the forest, or ruinously diminish its value as a regular
source of supply of fuel and timber.
It is evidently a matter of the utmost importance that the public, and
especially land-owners, be roused to a sense of the dangers to which the
indiscriminate clearing of the woods may expose not only future
generations, but the very soil itself. Some of the American States, as
well as the Governments of many European colonies, still retain the
ownership of great tracts of primitive woodland. The State of New York,
for example, has, in its north-eastern counties, a vast extent of
territory in which the lumberman has only here and there established his
camp, and where the forest, though interspersed with permanent
settlements, robbed of some of its finest pine groves, and often ravaged
by devastating fires, still covers far the largest proportion of the
surface. Through this territory the soil is generally poor, and even the
new clearings have little of the luxuriance of harvest which
distinguishes them elsewhere. The value of the land for agricultural
uses is therefore very small, and few purchases are made for any other
purpose than to strip the soil of its timber. It has been often proposed
that the State should declare the remaining forest the inalienable
property of the commonwealth, but I believe the motive of the suggestion
has originated rather in poetical than in economical views of the
subject. Both these classes of considerations have a real worth. It is
desirable that some large and easily accessible region of American soil
should remain, as far as possible, in its primitive condition, at once a
museum for the instruction of the student, a garden for the recreation
of the lover of nature, and an asylum where indigenous tree, and humble
plant that loves the shade, and fish and fowl and four-footed beast, may
dwell and perpetuate their kind, in the enjoyment of such imperfect
protection as the laws of a people jealous of restraint can afford them.
The immediate loss to the public treasury from the adoption of this
policy would be inconsiderable, for these lands are sold at low rates.
The forest alone, economically managed, would, without injury, and even
with benefit to its permanence and growth, soon yield a regular income
larger than the present value of the fee.
The collateral advantages of the preservation of these forests would be
far greater. Nature threw up those mountains and clothed them with lofty
woods, that they might serve as a reservoir to supply with perennial
waters the thousand rivers and rills that are fed by the rains and snows
of the Adirondacks, and as a screen for the fertile plains of the
central counties against the chilling blasts of the north wind, which
meet no other barrier in their sweep from the Arctic pole. The climate
of Northern New York even now presents greater extremes of temperature
than that of Southern France. The long-continued cold of winter is more
intense, the short heats of summer even fiercer than in Provence, and
hence the preservation of every influence that tends to maintain an
equilibrium of temperature and humidity is of cardinal importance. The
felling of the Adirondack woods would ultimately involve for Northern
and Central New York consequences similar to those which have resulted
from the laying bare of the southern and western declivities of the
French Alps and the spurs, ridges, and detached peaks in front of them.
It is true that the evils to be apprehended from the clearing of the
mountains of New York may be less in degree than those which a similar
cause has produced in Southern France, where the intensity of its action
has been increased by the inclination of the mountain declivities, and
by the peculiar geological constitution of the earth. The degradation of
the soil is, perhaps, not equally promoted by a combination of the same
circumstances, in any of the American Atlantic States, but still they
have rapid slopes and loose and friable soils enough to render
widespread desolation certain, if the further destruction of the woods
is not soon arrested. The effects of clearing are already perceptible in
the comparatively unviolated region of which I am speaking. The rivers
which rise in it flow with diminished currents in dry seasons, and with
augmented volumes of water after heavy rains. They bring down larger
quantities of sediment, and the increasing obstructions to the
navigation of the Hudson, which are extending themselves down the
channel in proportion as the fields are encroaching upon the forest,
give good grounds for the fear of irreparable injury to the commerce of
the important towns on the upper waters of that river, unless measures
are taken to prevent the expansion of "improvements" which have already
been carried beyond the demands of a wise economy.
In the Eastern United States the general character of the climate, soil,
and surface is such, that for the formation of very destructive torrents
a much longer time is required than would be necessary in the
mountainous provinces of Italy or of France. But the work of desolation
has begun even there, and wherever a rapid mountain-slope has been
stripped of wood, incipient ravines already plough the surface, and
collect the precipitation in channels which threaten serious mischief in
the future. There is a peculiar action of this sort on the sandy surface
of pine-forests and in other soils that unite readily with water, which
has excited the attention of geographers and geologists. Soils of the
first kind are found in all the Eastern States; those of the second are
more frequent in the exhausted counties of Maryland, where tobacco is
cultivated, and in the more southern territories of Georgia and Alabama.
In these localities the ravines which appear after the cutting of the
forest, through some accidental disturbance of the surface, or, in some
formations, through the cracking of the soil in consequence of great
drought or heat, enlarge and extend themselves with fearful rapidity.
In Georgia and in Alabama, Lyell saw "the beginning of the formation of
hundreds of valleys in places where the primitive forest had been
recently cut down." One of these, in Georgia, in a soil composed of clay
and sand produced by the decomposition in situ of hornblendic gneiss
with layers and veins of quartz, "and which did not exist before the
felling of the forest twenty years previous," he describes as more than
55 feet in depth, 300 yards in length, and from 20 to 180 feet in
breadth. Our author refers to other cases in the same States, "where the
cutting down of the trees, which had prevented the rain from collecting
into torrents and running off in sudden land-floods, has given rise to
ravines from 70 to 80 feet deep." [Footnote: Lyell, Principles of
Geology, 10th ed., vol i., 345-6.] Similar results often follow in the
North-eastern States from cutting the timber on the "pine plains," where
the soil is usually of a sandy composition and loose texture.
American Forest-Trees.
The remaining forests of the Northern States and of Canada no longer
boast the mighty pines which almost rivalled the gigantic sequoia and
redwood of California; and the growth of the larger forest-trees is so
slow, after they have attained to a certain size, that if every pine and
oak were spared for two centuries, the largest now standing would not
reach the stature of hundreds recorded to have been cut within two or
three generations. [Footnote: The growth of the white pine, on good soil
and in open ground, is rather rapid until it reaches the diameter of a
couple of feet, after which it is much slower. The favorite habitat of
this tree is light, sandy earth. On this soil, and in a dense wood, it
requires a century to attain the diameter of a yard. Emerson (Trees of
Massachusetts, p. 65), says that a pine of this species, near Paris,
"thirty years planted, is eighty feet high, with a diameter of three
feet." He also states that ten white pines planted at Cambridge,
Massachusetts in 1809 or 1810, exhibited, in the winter of 1841 and
1842, an average of twenty inches diameter at the ground, the two
largest measuring, at the height of three feet, four feet eight inches
in circumference; and he mentions another pine growing in a rocky swamp,
which at the age of thirty-two years, "gave seven feet in circumference
at the but, with a height of sixty-two feet six inches." This latter I
suppose to be a seedling, the others TRANSPLANTED trees, which might
have been some years old when placed where they finally grew.
The following case came under my own observation: In 1824 a pine-tree,
so small that a young lady, with the help of a lad, took it up from the
ground and carried it a quarter of a mile, was planted near a house in a
town in Vermont. It was occasionally watered, but received no other
special treatment. I measured this tree in 1860, and found it, at four
feet from the ground, and entirely above the spread of the roots, two
feet and four inches in diameter. A new measurement in 1871 gave a
diameter of two feet eight inches, being an increase of four inches in
eleven years, a slower rate than that of preceding years. It could not
have been more than three inches through when transplanted, and up to
1860 must have increased its diameter at the rate of about seven-tenths
of an inch per year, almost double its later growth. In 1871 the crown
had a diameter of 63 feet.
In the same neighborhood, elms transplanted in 1803, when they were not
above three or four inches through, had attained, in 1871, a diameter of
from four feet to four feet two inches, with a spread of crown of from
90 to 112 feet. Sugar-maples, transplanted in 1822, at about the same
size, measured two feet three inches through. This growth undoubtedly
considerably exceeds that of trees of the same species in the natural
forest, though the transplanted trees had received no other fertilizing
application than an unlimited supply of light and air.] Dr. Williams,
who wrote about sixty years ago, states the following as the dimensions
of "such trees as are esteemed large ones of their kind in that part of
America" [Vermont], qualifying his account with the remark that his
measurements "do not denote the greatest which nature has produced of
their particular species, but the greatest which are to be found in most
of our towns."
Diameter. Height.
Pine.......... 6 feet, 247 feet.
Maple......... 5 " 9 inches \
Buttonwood.... 5 " 6 " |
Elm........... 5 " |
Hemlock....... 4 " 9 " |
Oak........... 4 " > From 100 to 200 feet.
Basswood...... 4 " |
Ash........... 4 " |
Birch......... 4 " /
He adds a note saying that a white pine was cut in Dunstable, New
Hampshire, in the year 1736, the diameter of which was seven feet and
eight inches. Dr. Dwight says that a fallen pine in Connecticut was
found to measure two hundred and forty-seven feet in height, and adds:
"A few years since, such trees were in great numbers along the northern
parts of Connecticut River." In another letter, he speaks of the white
pine as "frequently six feet in diameter, and two hundred and fifty feet
in height," and states that a pine had been cut in Lancaster, New
Hampshire, which measured two hundred and sixty-four feet, Emerson wrote
in 1846: "Fifty years ago, several trees growing on rather dry land in
Blandford, Massachusetts, measured, after they were felled, two hundred
and twenty-three feet." All these trees are surpassed by a pine felled
at Hanover, New Hampshire, about a hundred years ago, and described as
measuring two hundred and seventy-four feet. [Footnote: Williams,
History of Vermont, ii., p. 53. Dwight s Travels, iv., p. 21, and iii,
p. 36. Emerson, Trees of Massachusetts, p. 61. Parish, Life of
President Wheelock, p. 56.] These descriptions, it will be noticed,
apply to trees cut from seventy to one hundred and forty years since.
Persons, whom observation has rendered familiar with the present
character of the American forest, will be struck with the smallness of
the diameter which Dr. Williams and Dr. Dwight ascribe to trees of such
extraordinary height. Individuals of the several species mentioned in
Dr. Williams's table are now hardly to be found in the same climate,
exceeding one-half or at most two-thirds of the height which he assigns
to them; but, except in the case of the oak and the pine, the diameter
stated by him would not be thought very extraordinary in trees of far
less height, now standing. Even in the species I have excepted, those
diameters, with half the heights of Dr. Williams, might perhaps be
paralleled at the present time; and many elms, transplanted, at a
diameter of six inches, within the memory of persons still living,
measure four and sometimes even five feet through. For this change in
the growth of forest-trees there are two reasons: the one is, that the
great commercial value of the pine and the oak have caused the
destruction of all the best--that is, the tallest and straightest--
specimens of both; the other, that the thinning of the woods by the axe
of the lumberman has allowed the access of light and heat and air to
trees of humbler worth and lower stature, which have survived their more
towering brethren. These, consequently, have been able to expand their
crowns and swell their stems to a degree not possible so long as they
were overshadowed and stifled by the lordly oak and pine. While,
therefore, the New England forester must search long before he finds a
pine fit to be the mast Of some great ammiral, beeches and elms and
birches, as sturdy as the mightiest of their progenitors, are still no
rarity.
[Footnote: The forest-trees of the Northern States do not attain to
extreme longevity in the dense woods. Dr. Williams found that none of
the huge pines, the age of which he ascertained, exceeded three hundred
and fifty or four hundred years, though he quotes a friend who thought
he had noticed trees considerably older. The oak lives longer than the
pine, and the hemlock-spruce is perhaps equally long lived. A tree of
this latter species, cut within my knowledge in a thick wood, counted
four hundred and eighty-six, or, according to another observer, five
hundred annual circles. Great luxuriance of animal and vegetable
production is not commonly accompanied by long duration of the
individual. The oldest men are not found in the crowded city; and in the
tropics, where life is prolific and precocious, it is also short. The
most ancient forest-trees of which we have accounts have not been those
growing in thick woods, but isolated specimens, with no taller neighbor
to intercept the light and heat and air, and no rival to share the
nutriment afforded by the soil. The more rapid growth and greater
dimensions of trees standing near the boundary of the forest, are
matters of familiar observation. "Long experience has shown that trees
growing on the confines of the wood may be cut at sixty years of age as
advantageously as others of the same species, reared in the depth of the
forest, at a hundred and twenty. We have often remarked, in our Alps,
that the trunk of trees upon the border of a grove is most developed or
enlarged upon the outer or open side, where the branches extend
themselves farthest, while the concentric circles of growth are most
uniform in those entirely surrounded by other trees, or standing
entirely alone."--A. and G. Villa, Necessita dei Boschi pp. 17, 18.]
California fortunately still preserves her magnificent sequoias, which
rise to the height of three hundred feet, and sometimes, as we are
assured, even to three hundred and sixty and four hundred feet, and she
has also pines and cedars of scarcely inferior dimensions. The public
being now convinced of the importance of preserving these colossal
trees, it is very probable that the fear of their total destruction may
prove groundless, and we may still hope that some of them may survive
even till that distant future when the skill of the forester shall have
raised from their seeds a progeny as lofty and as majestic as those
which now exist. [Footnote: California must surrender to Australia the
glory of possessing the tallest trees. According to Dr. Mueller,
Director of the Government Botanic Garden at Melbourne, a Eucalyptus,
near Healesville, measured 480 feet in height. Later accounts speak of
trees of the same species fully 500 feet in height. See Schleiden, Fur
Baum und Wald, p. 21.
If we may credit late reports, the growth of the eucalyptus is so rapid
in California, that the child is perhaps now born who will see the
tallest sequoia overtopped by this new vegetable emigrant from
Australia.]
European and American Trees compared.
The woods of North America are strikingly distinguished from those of
Europe by the vastly greater variety of species they contain. According
to Clave, there are in "France and in most parts of Europe only about
twenty forest-trees, five or six of which are spike-leaved and resinous,
the remainder broad-leaved." [Footnote: Etudes Forestieres, p. 7.] Our
author, however, doubtless means genera, though he uses the word
especes. Rossmassler enumerates fifty-seven species of forest-trees as
found in Germany, but some of these are mere shrubs, some are fruit and
properly garden trees, and some others are only varieties of familiar
species. The valuable manual of Parade describes about the same number,
including, however, two of American origin--the locust, Robinia
pseudacacia, and the Weymouth or white pine, Pinus Strobus--and the
cedar of Lebanon from Asia, which, or at least a very closely allied
species, is indigenous in Algeria also. We may then safely say that
Europe does not possess above forty or fifty native trees of such
economical value as to be worth the special care of the forester, while
the oak alone numbers more than thirty species in the United
States, [Footnote: For full catalogues of American forest-trees, and
remarks on their geographical distribution, consult papers on the
subject by Dr. J. G. Cooper, in the Report of the Smithsonian
Institution for 1858, and the Report of the United States Patent Office,
Agricultural Division, for 1860.] and some other North American genera
are almost equally diversified. [Footnote: Although Spenser's catalogue
of trees occurs in the first canto of the first book of the "Faery
Queene"--the only canto of that exquisite poem actually read by most
students of English literature--it is not so generally familiar as to
make the quotation of it altogether superfluous:
VII.
Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand,
A shadic grove not farr away they spide,
That promist ayde the tempest to withstand;
Whose loftie trees, yclad with sommers pride,
Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide,
Not perceable with power of any starr:
And all within were pathes and alleies wide,
With footing worne, and leading inward farr;
Faire harbour that them seems; so in they entered ar.
VIII.
And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led,
Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony.
Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred,
Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky.
Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy,
The sayling pine; the cedar stout and tall;
The vine-propp elm; the poplar never dry;
The builder oake, sole king of forrests all;
The aspine good for staves; the cypresse funerall;
IX.
The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours
And poets sage; the firre that weepeth still;
The willow, worne of forlorn paramours;
The eugh, obedient to the benders will;
The birch for shaftes; the sallow for the mill;
The mirrhe sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound;
The warlike beech; the ash for nothing ill;
The fruitfull olive; and the platane round;
The carver holme; the maple seeldom inward sound.
Although the number of SPECIES of American forest-trees is much larger
than of European, yet the distinguishable VARIETIES are relatively more
numerous in the Old World, even in the case of trees not generally
receiving special care. This multiplication of varieties is no doubt a
result, though not a foreseen or intended one, of human action; for the
ordinary operations of European forest economy expose young trees to
different conditions from those presented by nature, and new conditions
produce new forms. All European woods, except in the remote North, even
if not technically artificial forests, acquire a more or less artificial
character from the governing hand of man, and the effect of this
interference is seen in the constant deviation of trees from the
original type. The holly, for example, even when growing as absolutely
wild as any tree can ever grow in countries long occupied by man,
produces numerous varieties, and twenty or thirty such, not to mention
intermediate shades, are described and named as recognizably different,
in treatises on the forest-trees of Europe.]
While the American forest flora has made large contributions to that of
Europe, comparatively few European trees have been naturalized in the
United States, and as a general rule the indigenous trees of Europe do
not succeed well in our climate. The European mountain-ash--which in
beauty, dimensions, and healthfulness of growth is superior to our own
[Footnote: In the Northern Tyrol mountain-ashes fifteen inches in
diameter are not uncommon. The berries are distilled with grain to
flavor the spirit.]--the horse-chestnut, and the abele, or silver
poplar, are valuable additions to the ornamental trees of North America.
The Swiss arve or zirbelkiefer, Pinus cembra, which yields a
well-flavored edible seed and furnishes excellent wood for carving, the
umbrella-pine, [Footnote: The mountain ranges of our extreme West
produce a pine closely resembling the European umbrella-pine.] which
also bears a seed agreeable to the taste, and which, from the color of
its foliage and the beautiful form of its dome-like crown, is among the
most elegant of trees, the white birch of Central Europe, with its
pendulous branches almost rivalling those of the weeping willow in
length, flexibility, and gracefulness of fall, and, especially, the
"cypresse funerall," might be introduced into the United States with
great advantage to the landscape. The European beech and chestnut
furnish timber of far better quality than that of their American
congeners. The fruit of the European chestnut, though inferior to the
American in sweetness and flavor, is larger, and is an important article
of diet among the French and Italian peasantry. The walnut of Europe,
though not equal to some of the American species in beauty of growth or
of wood, or to others in strength and elasticity of fibre, is valuable
for its timber and its oil. [Footnote: The walnut is a more valuable
tree than is generally supposed. It yields one-third of the oil produced
in France, and in this respect occupies an intermediate position between
the olive of the south and the oleaginous seeds of the north. A hectare
(about two and a half acres) will produce nuts to the value of five
hundred francs a year, which cost nothing but the gathering.
Unfortunately, its maturity must be long waited for, and more nut-trees
are felled than planted. The demand for its wood in cabinet-work is the
principal cause of its destruction. See Lavergne, Economie Rurale de la
France, p. 253.
According to Cosimo Ridolfi (Lezioni Orali, ii., p. 424), France obtains
three times as much oil from the walnut as from the olive, and nearly as
much as from all oleaginous seeds together. He states that the walnut
bears nuts at the age of twenty years, and yields its maximum product at
seventy, and that a hectare of ground, with thirty trees, or twelve to
the acre, is equal to a capital of twenty-five hundred francs.
The nut of this tree is known in the United States as the "English
walnut." The fruit and the wood much resemble those of the American
black walnut, Juglans nigra, but for cabinet-work the American is the
more beautiful material, especially when the large knots are employed.
The timber or the European species, when straight-grained, and clear, or
free from knots, is, for ordinary purposes, better than that of the
American black walnut, but bears no comparison with the wood of the
hickory, when strength combined with elasticity is required, and its nut
is very inferior in taste to that of the shagbark, as well as to the
butternut, which it somewhat resembles.
"The chestnut is more valuable still, for it produces on a sterile soil,
which, without it, would yield only ferns and heaths, an abundant
nutriment for man."--Lavergne, Economie Rurale de la France, p. 253.
I believe the varieties developed by cultivation are less numerous in
the walnut than is the chestnut, which latter tree is often grafted in
Southern Europe.
The chestnut crop of France was estimated in 1848 at 3,478,000
hectolitres, or 9,877,520 Winchester bushels, and valued at 13,528,000
francs, or more than two million and a half dollars. In Tuscany the
annual yield is computed at about 550,000 bushels.
The Tuscan peasants think the flour of the dried chestnut not less
nutritious than Indian cornmeal, and it sells at the same price, or
about three cents per English pound, in the mountains, and four cents in
the towns.] The maritime pine, which has proved of such immense use in
fixing drifting sands in France, may perhaps be better adapted to this
purpose than any of the pines of the New World, and it is of great
importance for its turpentine, resin, and tar. The epicea, or common
fir, Abies picea, Abies excelsa, Picea excelsa, abundant in the
mountains of France and the contiguous country, is known for its
product, Burgundy pitch, and, as it flourishes in a greater variety of
soil and climate than almost any other spike-leaved tree, it might be
well worth transplantation. [Footnote: This fir is remarkable for its
tendency to cicatrize or heal over its stumps, a property which it
possesses in common with some other firs, the maritime pine, and the
European larch. When these trees grow in thick clumps, their roots are
apt to unite by a species of natural grafting, and if one of them be
felled, although its own proper rootlets die, the stump may continue,
sometimes for a century, to receive nourishment from the radicles of the
surrounding trees, and a dome of wood and bark of considerable thickness
be formed over it. The healing is, however, only apparent, for the
entire stump, except the outside ring of annual growth, soon dies, and
even decays within its covering, without sending out new shoots. See
Monthly Report, Department of Agriculture, for October, 1872.] The cork
oak has been introduced into California and some other parts of the
United States, I believe, and would undoubtedly thrive in the Southern
section of the Union. [Footnote: At the age of twelve or fifteen years,
the cork-tree is stripped of its outer bark for the first time. This
first yield is of inferior quality, and it employed for floats for nets
and buoys, or burnt for lampblack. After this, a new layer of cork, an
inch or an inch and a quarter in thickness, is formed about one in ten
years, and is removed in large sheets without injury to the tree, which
lives a hundred and fifty years or more. According to Clave (p. 252),
the annual product of a forest of cork oaks is calculated at about 660
kilogrammes, worth 150 frances, to the hectare, which, deducting
expenses, leaves a profit of 100 francs. This is about equal to 250
pound weight, and eight dollars profit to the acre. The cork oaks of the
national domain in Algeria cover about 500,000 acres, and are let to
individuals at rates which are expected, when the whole is rented, to
yield to the state revenue of about $2,000,000.
George Sand, in the Histoire de ma Vie, speaks of the cork-forests in
Southern France as among the most profitable of rural possessions, and
states, what I do not remember to have seen noticed elsewhere, that
Russia is the best customer for cork. The large sheets taken from the
trees are slit into thin plates, and used to line the walls of
apartments in that cold climate. On the cultivation and management of
the cork oak, see Des Incendies et de la culture du Chene-liege, in
Revue das Eaux et Forets for February, 1869.] the walnut, the chestnut,
the cork oak, the mulberry, the olive, the orange, the lemon, the fig,
and the multitude of other trees which, by their fruit, or by other
products, yield an annual revenue, nature has provided Southern Europe
with a partial compensation for the loss of the native forest. It is
true that these trees, planted as most of them are at such distances as
to admit of cultivation, or of the growth of grass among them, are but
an inadequate substitute for the thick and shady wood; but they perform
to a certain extent the same offices of absorption and transpiration,
they shade the surface of the ground, they serve to break the force of
the wind, and on many a steep declivity, many a bleak and barren
hillside, the chestnut binds the soil together with its roots, and
prevents tons of earth and gravel from washing down upon the fields and
the gardens. Fruit-trees are not wanting, certainly, north of the Alps.
The apple, the pear, and the prune are important in the economy both of
man and of nature, but they are far less numerous in Switzerland and
Northern France than are the trees I have mentioned in Southern Europe,
both because they are in general less remunerative, and because the
climate, in higher latitudes, does not permit the free introduction of
shade trees into grounds occupied for agricultural purposes. [Footnote:
The walnut, the chestnut, the apple, and the pear are common to the
border between the countries I have mentioned, but the range of the
other trees is bounded by the Alps, and by a well-defined and sharply
drawn line to the west of those mountains. From some peculiarity in the
sky of Europe, cultivated plants will thrive, in Northern Italy, in
Southern France, and even in Switzerland, under a depth of shade where
no crop, not even grass, worth harvesting, would grow in the United
States with an equally high summer temperature. Hence the cultivation of
all these trees is practicable in Europe to a greater extent than would
be supposed reconcilable with the interests of agriculture. Some idea of
the importance of the olive orchards may be formed from the fact that
Sicily alone, an island scarcely exceeding 10,000 square miles in area,
of which one-third at least is absolutely barren, has exported to the
single port of Marseilles more than 2,000,000 pounds weight olive-oil
per year, for the last thirty years.
According to Cosimo Ridolfi, Lezioni Orali, vol. ii., p. 340, in a
favorable soil and climate the average yield of oil from poorly manured
trees, which compose the great majority, is six English pounds, while
with the best cultivation it rises to twenty-three pounds. The annual
production of olive-oil in the whole of Italy is estimated at upwards of
850,000,000 pounds, and if we allow twelve pounds to the tree, we have
something more than 70,000,000 trees. The real number of trees is,
however, much greater than this estimate, for in Tuscany and many other
parts of Italy the average yield of oil per tree does not exceed two
pounds, and there are many millions of young trees not yet in bearing.
Probably we shall not exaggerate if we estimate the olive trees of Italy
at 100,000,000, and as there are about a hundred trees to the acre, the
quantity of land devoted to the cultivation of the olive may be taken at
a million acres. Although olive-oil is much used in cookery in Italy,
lard is preferred as more nutritious. Much American lard is exported to
South-eastern Italy, and olive-oil is imported in return.] The
multitude of species, intermixed as they are in their spontaneous
growth, gives the American forest landscape a variety of aspect not
often seen in the woods of Europe, and the gorgeous tints, which nature
repeats from the dying dolphin to paint the falling leaf of the American
maples, oaks, and ash trees, clothe the hillsides and fringe the
water-courses with a rainbow splendor of foliage, unsurpassed by the
brightest groupings of the tropical flora. It must be confessed,
however, that both the northern and the southern declivities of the Alps
exhibit a nearer approximation to this rich and multifarious coloring of
autumnal vegetation than most American travellers in Europe are willing
to allow; and, besides, the small deciduous shrubs which often carpet
the forest-glades of these mountains are dyed with a ruddy and orange
glow, which, in the distant landscape, is no mean substitute for the
scarlet and crimson and gold and amber of the transatlantic woodland.
[Footnote: The most gorgeous autumnal coloring I have observed in the
vegetation of Europe has been in the valleys of the Durance and its
tributaries in Dauphiny. I must admit that neither in variety nor in
purity and brilliancy of tint, does this coloring fall much, if at all,
short of that of the New England woods. But there is this difference: in
Dauphiny, it is only in small shrubs that this rich painting is seen,
while in North America the foliage of large trees is dyed in full
splendor. Hence the American woodland has fewer broken lights and more
of what painters call breadth of coloring. Besides this, the arrangement
of the leafage in large globular or conical masses, affords a wider
scale of light and shade, thus aiding now the gradation now the contrast
of tints, and gives the American October landscape a softer and more
harmonious tone than marks the humble shrubbery of the forest hillsides
of Dauphiny.
Thoreau--who was not, like some very celebrated landscape critics of the
present day, an outside spectator of the action and products of natural
forces, but, in the old religious sense, an OBSERVER of organic nature,
living, more than almost any other descriptive writer, among and with
her children--had a very eloquent paper on the "Autumnal Tints" of the
New England landscape.--See his Excursions, pp. 215 et seqq.
Few men have personally noticed so many facts in natural history
accessible to unscientific observation as Thoreau, and yet he had never
seen that very common and striking spectacle, the phosphorescence of
decaying wood, until, in the latter years of his life, it caught his
attention in a bivouac in the forests of Maine. He seems to have been
more excited by this phenomenon than by any other described in his
works. It must be a capacious eye that takes in all the visible facts in
the history of the most familiar natural object.--The Maine Woods, p.
184.]
I admit, though not without reluctance, that the forest-trees of Central
and Southern Europe have a great advantage over our own in the
corresponding latitudes, in density of foliage as well as in depth of
color and persistence of the leaves in deciduous species. An American,
who, after a long absence from the United States, returns in the full
height of summer, is painfully surprised at the thinness and poverty of
the leafage even of the trees which he had habitually regarded as
specially umbrageous, and he must wait for the autumnal frosts before he
can recover his partiality for the glories of his native woods.
None of our north-eastern evergreens resemble the umbrella pine
sufficiently to be a fair object of comparison with it. A cedar, very
common above the Highlands on the Hudson, and elsewhere, is extremely
like the cypress, straight, slender, with erect, compressed
ramification, and feathered to the ground, but its foliage is neither so
dark nor so dense, the tree does not attain the majestic height of the
cypress, nor has it the lithe flexibility of that tree. [Footnote: The
cold winter, or rather spring, of 1872 proved fatal to many cypresses as
well as olive trees in the Val d'Arno. The cypress, therefore, could be
introduced only into California and our Southern States.] In mere shape,
the Lombardy poplar nearly resembles this latter, but it is almost a
profanation to compare the two, especially when they are agitated by the
wind; for under such circumstances, the one is the most majestic, the
other the most ungraceful, or--if I may apply such an expression to
anything but human affectation of movement--the most awkward of trees.
The poplar trembles before the blast, flutters, struggles wildly,
dishevels its foliage, gropes around with its feeble branches, and
hisses as in impotent passion. The cypress gathers its limbs still more
closely to its stem, bows a gracious salute rather than an humble
obeisance to the tempest, bends to the wind with an elasticity that
assures you of its prompt return to its regal attitude, and sends from
its thick leaflets a murmur like the roar of the far-off ocean.
The cypress and the umbrella-pine are not merely conventional types of
the Italian landscape. They are essential elements in a field of rural
beauty which can be seen in perfection only in the basin of the
Mediterranean, and they are as characteristic of this class of scenery
as is the date-palm of the oases of the Eastern desert. There is
however, this difference: a single cypress or pine is often enough to
shed beauty over a wide area; the palm is a social tree, and its beauty
is not so much that of the individual as of the group. [Footnote:
European poets, whose knowledge of the date-palm is not founded on
personal observation, often describe its trunk as not only slender, but
particularly STRAIGHT. Nothing can be farther from the truth. When the
Orientals compare the form of a beautiful girl to the stem of the palm,
they do not represent it as rigidly straight, but on the contrary as
made up of graceful curves, which seem less like permanent outlines than
like flowing motion. In a palm grove, the trunks, so far from standing
planted upright like the candles of a chandelier, bend in a vast variety
of curves, now leaning towards, now diverging from, now crossing, each
other, and among a hundred you will hardly see two whose axes are
parallel.] The frequency of the cypress and the pine--combined with the
fact that the other trees of Southern Europe which most interest a
stranger from the north, the orange and the lemon, the cork oak, the
ilex, the myrtle, and the laurel, are evergreens--goes far to explain
the beauty of the winter scenery of Italy. Indeed, it is only in the
winter that a tourist who confines himself to wheel-carriages and high
roads can acquire any notion of the face of the earth, and form any
proper geographical image of that country. At other seasons, not high
walls only, but equally impervious hedges, and now, unhappily, acacias
thickly planted along the railway routes, confine the view so
completely, that the arch of a tunnel, or a night-cap over the
traveller's eyes, is scarcely a more effectual obstacle to the
gratification of his curiosity. [Footnote: Besides this, in a country so
diversified in surface as Italy, with the exception of the champaign
region drained by the Po, every new field of view requires either an
extraordinary coup d'oeil in the spectator, or a long study, in order to
master its relief, its plans, its salient and retreating angles. In
summer, except of course in the bare mountains, the universal greenery
confounds light and shade, distance and foreground; and though the
impression upon a traveller, who journeys for the sake of "sensations,"
may be strengthened by the mysterious annihilation of all standards for
the measurement of space, yet the superior intelligibility of the winter
scenery of Italy is more profitable to those who see with a view to
analyze.]
The Forest does not furnish Food for Man.
In a region absolutely covered with trees, human life could not long be
sustained, for want of animal and vegetable food. The depths of the
forest seldom furnish either bulb or fruit suited to the nourishment of
man; and the fowls and beasts on which he feeds are scarcely seen except
upon the margin of the wood, for here only grow the shrubs and grasses,
and here only are found the seeds and insects, which form the sustenance
of the non-carnivorous birds and quadrupeds. [Footnote: Clave, as well as
many earlier writers, supposes that primitive man derived his nutriment
from the spontaneous productions of the wood. "It is to the forests,"
says he, "that man was first indebted for the means of subsistence.
Exposed alone, without defence, to the rigor of the seasons, as well as
to the attacks of animals stronger and swifter than himself, he found in
them his first shelter, drew from them his first weapons. In the first
period of humanity, they provided for all his wants: they furnished him
wood for warmth, fruits for food, garments to cover his nakedness, arms
for his defence."--Etudes sur l'Economie Forestiere, p. 13.
But the history of savage life, as far as it is known to us, presents
man in that condition as inhabiting only the borders of the forest and
the open grounds that skirt the waters and the woods, and as finding
only there the aliments which make up his daily bread. The villages of
the North American Indians were upon the shores of rivers and lakes, and
their weapons and other relics are found only in the narrow open grounds
which they had burned over and cultivated, or in the margin of the woods
around their hamlets.
Except upon the banks of rivers or of lakes, the woods of the interior
of North America, far from the habitations of man, are almost destitute
of animal life. Dr. Newberry, describing the vast forests of the yellow
pine of the West, Pinus ponderosa, remarks: "In the arid and desert
regions of the interior basin, we made whole days' marches in forests of
yellow pine, of which neither the monotony was broken by other forms of
vegetation, nor its stillness by the flutter of a bird or the hum of an
insect."--Pacific Railroad Report, vol. vi., 1857. Dr. Newberry's Report
on Botany, p. 37.
Cheadle and Milton's North-west Passage confirms these statements.
Valvasor says, in a paragraph already quoted, "In my many journeys
through this valley, I did never have sight of so much as a single
bird."
The wild fruit and nut trees, the Canada plum, the cherries, the many
species of walnut, the butternut, the hazel, yield very little,
frequently nothing, so long as they grow in the woods; and it is only
when the trees around them are cut down, or when they grow in pastures,
that they become productive. The berries, too--the strawberry, the
blackberry, the raspberry, the whortleberry, scarcely bear fruit at all
except in cleared ground.
The rank forests of the tropics are as unproductive of human aliment as
the less luxuriant woods of the temperate zone. In Strain's unfortunate
expedition across the great American isthmus, where the journey lay
principally through thick woods, several of the party died of
starvation, and for many days the survivors were forced to subsist on
the scantiest supplies of unnutritious vegetables perhaps never before
employed for food by man. See the interesting account of that expedition
in Harper's Magazine for March, April, and May, 1855.]
First Removal of the Forest.
When multiplying man had filled the open grounds along the margin of the
rivers, the lakes, and the sea, and sufficiently peopled the natural
meadows and savannas of the interior, where such existed, he could find
room for expansion and further growth only by the removal of a portion
of the forest that hemmed him in. The destruction of the woods, then,
was man's first geographical conquest, his first violation of the
harmonies of inanimate nature.
Primitive man had little occasion to fell trees for fuel, or for the
construction of dwellings, boats, and the implements of his rude
agriculture and handicrafts. Windfalls would furnish a thin population
with a sufficient supply of such material, and if occasionally a growing
tree was cut, the injury to the forest would be too insignificant to be
at all appreciable.