THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE CULTIVATED TREES.
CHAP. 1. (1.)—TREES WHICH HAVE BEEN SOLD AT ENORMOUS PRICES.
We have described the trees which grow spontaneously on land and in
the sea,[2802] and it now remains for us to speak of those which owe
their formation, properly speaking, rather than birth, to art and the
inventive genius of man.[2803] Here, however, I cannot but express my
surprise, that after the state of penury in which man lived, as already
described,[2804] in primitive times, holding the trees of the forest in
common with the wild beasts, and disputing with them the possession of
the fruits that fell, and with the fowls of the air that of the fruits
as they hung on the tree, luxury has now attached to them prices so
enormous.
The most famous instance, in my opinion, of this excess, was that
displayed by L. Crassus and Cneius Domitius Ahenobarbus. Crassus
was one of the most celebrated of the Roman orators; his house was
remarkable for its magnificence, though in some measure surpassed even
by that of Q. Catulus,[2805] also upon the Palatine Hill; the same
Catulus, who, in conjunction with C. Marius, defeated the Cimbri.
But by far the finest house of all that period, it was universally
acknowledged, was that of C. Aquilius, a Roman of Equestrian rank,
situate upon the Viminal Hill; a house, indeed, that conferred a
greater degree of celebrity upon him than even his acquaintance
with the civil law. This, however, did not prevent Crassus being
reproached with the magnificence of his. Crassus and Domitius, members,
both of them, of the most illustrious families, after holding the
consulship,[2806] were appointed jointly to the censorship, in the year
from the building of the City 662, a period of office that was fruitful
in strife, the natural result of their dissimilarity of character. On
one occasion, Cneius Domitius, naturally a man of hasty temper, and
inflamed besides by a hatred that rivalry only tends to stimulate,
gravely rebuked Crassus for living, and he a Censor too, in a style of
such magnificence, and in a house for which, as he said, he himself
would be ready to pay down ten millions of sesterces. Crassus, a man
who united to singular presence of mind great readiness of wit, made
answer that, deducting six trees only, he would accept the offer; upon
which Domitius replied, that upon those terms he would not give so much
as a single denarius for the purchase. “Well then, Domitius,” was the
rejoinder of Crassus, “which of the two is it that sets a bad example,
and deserves the reproof of the censorship; I, who live like a plain
man in a house that has come to me by inheritance, or you, who estimate
six trees at a value of ten millions of sesterces?”[2807] These trees
were of the lotus[2808] kind, and by the exuberance of their branches
afforded a most delightful shade. Cæcina Largus, one of the grandees
of Rome, and the owner of the house, used often to point them out to
me in my younger days; and, as I have already made mention[2809] of
the remarkable longevity of trees, I would here add, that they were
in existence down to the period when the Emperor Nero set fire to the
City, one hundred and eighty years after the time of Crassus; being
still green and with all the freshness of youth upon them, had not that
prince thought fit to hasten the death of the very trees even.
Let no one, however, imagine that the house of Crassus was of no value
in other respects, or that, from the rebuke of Domitius, there was
nothing about it worthy of remark with the exception of these trees.
There were to be seen erected in the atrium four columns of marble
from Mount Hymettus,[2809] which in his ædileship he had ordered to be
brought over for the decoration of the stage;[2810] and this at a time,
too, when no public buildings even as yet possessed any pillars made
of that material. Of such recent date is the luxury and opulence which
we now enjoy, and so much greater was the value which in those days
trees were supposed to confer upon a property! A pretty good proof of
which, was the fact that Domitius even, with all his enmity, would not
keep to the offer he had made, if the trees were not to be included in
the bargain.
The trees have furnished surnames also to the ancients,[2811] such,
for instance, as that of Fronditius to the warrior who swam across
the Volturnus with a wreath of leaves on his head, and distinguished
himself by his famous exploits in the war against Hannibal; and that
of Stolo[2812] to the Licinian family, such being the name given by
us to the useless suckers that shoot from trees; the best method of
clearing away these shoots was discovered by the first Stolo, and hence
his name. The ancient laws also took the trees under their protection;
and by the Twelve Tables it was enacted, that he who should wrongfully
cut down trees belonging to another person, should pay twenty-five
asses for each. Is it possible then to imagine that they, who estimated
the fruit-trees at so low a rate as this, could ever have supposed
that so exorbitant a value would be put upon the lotus as that which
I have just mentioned? And no less marvellous, too, are the changes
that have taken place in the value of fruit; for at the present day
we find the fruit alone of many of the trees in the suburbs valued at
no less a sum than two thousand sesterces; the profits derived from
a single tree thus being more than those of a whole estate in former
times. It was from motives of gain that the grafting of trees and the
propagation thereby of a spurious offspring was first devised, so that
the growth of the fruits even might be a thing interdicted to the poor.
We shall, therefore, now proceed to state in what way it is that such
vast revenues are derived from these trees, and with that object shall
set forth the true and most approved methods of cultivation; not taking
any notice of the more common methods, or those which we find generally
adopted, but considering only those points of doubt and uncertainty,
in relation to which practical men are most apt to find themselves at
a loss: while, at the same time, to affect any scrupulous exactness
in cases where there is no necessity for it, will be no part of our
purpose. In the first place, however, we will consider in a general
point of view, those influences of soil as well as weather which are
exercised upon all the trees in common.
CHAP. 2. (2.)—THE INFLUENCE OF WEATHER UPON THE TREES: WHAT IS THE
PROPER SITUATION FOR THE VINE.
Trees are fond of a site more particularly that faces the
north-east;[2813] the breezes rendering their foliage more thick and
exuberant, and imparting additional solidity to the wood. This is a
point, however, upon which most people are very greatly deceived; thus
in vineyards, for instance, the props ought not to be placed in such
a position as to shelter the stems from the wind in that quarter, it
being only against the northern blasts that this precaution should
be taken. Nay, even more than this—if the cold weather only comes on
in due season, it contributes very materially to the strengthening
of the trees, and promotes the process of germination; while, on the
other hand, if at that period the southern[2814] breezes should caress
them, they will grow weak and languid, and more particularly so, if
the blossom is just coming on. If rainy weather, too, should happen to
follow close upon blossoming, the total destruction of the fruit is
the necessary result: indeed, if the weather should be only cloudy, or
south winds happen to prevail, it is quite sufficient to ensure the
loss of the fruit in the almond and the pear.[2815] Rains, if prevalent
about the rising of the Vergiliæ,[2816] are most injurious to the vine
and the olive,[2817] as it is at that season that germination[2818]
is commencing with them; indeed, this is a most critical four days
for the olive, being the period at which the south wind, as we have
already[2819] stated, brings on its dark and lowering clouds. The
cereals, too, ripen more unfavourably when south winds prevail, though
at the same time it proceeds with greater rapidity. All cold, too, is
injurious to vegetation, which comes with the northern winds, or out of
the proper season. It is most advantageous to all plants for north-east
winds[2820] to prevail throughout the winter.
In this season, too, showers are very necessary, and the reason is
self-evident—the trees, being exhausted by the fruit they have borne,
and weakened by the loss of their leaves, are, of course, famished and
hungry; and it is the showers that constitute their aliment. Experience
has led us to believe that there is nothing more detrimental than a
warm winter; for it allows the trees, the moment they have parted with
their fruits, to conceive again, or, in other words, to germinate, and
then exhaust themselves by blossoming afresh. And what is even worse
than this, should there be several years of such weather in succession,
even the trees themselves will die; for there can be little doubt
that the effort must of necessity be injurious, when they put forth
their strength, and are at the same time deprived of their natural
sustenance. The poet[2821] then, who has said that serene winters are
to be desired, certainly did not express those wishes in favour of the
trees. And no more does rain, if prevalent at the summer-solstice,
conduce to the benefit[2822] of the vine: while, at the same time, to
say that a dusty winter produces a luxuriant harvest, is certainly
the mistake of a too fertile imagination. It is a thing greatly to
be wished, too, both in behalf of the trees as well as the cereals,
that the snows should lie for a considerable time upon the ground; the
reason being that they check the escape of the spirit of the earth by
evaporation, and tend to throw it back again upon the roots of the
plants, adding greatly to their strength thereby; and not only this,
but they afford a gradual supply of moisture as well, that is both pure
and of remarkable lightness, from the fact that snow is only the foam
of the waters of heaven. Hence it is that the moisture of snow does
not drench and engulph everything all at once, but gradually trickles
downwards, in proportion to the thirst of the plant, nurturing it as
though from the breast, instead of producing an inundation. The earth,
too, ferments under this influence, and becomes filled with her own
emanations: not exhausted by the seeds in her bosom, swollen as they
are with milk,[2823] she smiles in the warm and balmy hours, when the
time comes for opening it. It is in this way, more particularly, that
corn fattens apace, except, indeed, in those climates in which the
atmosphere is always warm, Egypt for example; for there the continuance
of the same temperature and the force of habit are productive of the
same effects as the modifications of temperature in other countries.
At the same time it is equally necessary in every climate that there
should be no noxious influence in existence. Thus, for instance, in the
greater part of the world, that precocious germination which has been
encouraged by the indulgent temperature of the weather, is sure to be
nipped by the intense colds that ensue. Hence it is that late winters
are so injurious, and such they prove to the trees of the forest even;
indeed, these last are more particularly exposed to the ill effects of
a late winter, oppressed as they are by the density of their foliage,
and human agency being unable to succour them; for it would be quite
impossible to cover[2824] the more tender forest trees with wisps of
straw. Rains, then, are favourable to vegetation—first of all, during
the winter season, and next, just previously to germination; the third
period for them being that of the formation of the fruit, though not
immediately, and only, in fact, when the produce of the tree shows
itself strong and healthy.
Those trees which are the slowest in bringing their fruits to
maturity, and require a more prolonged supply of nutriment, receive
benefit also from late rains, such as the vine, the olive, and the
pomegranate, for instance. These rains, however, are required at
different seasons by the different trees, some of them coming to
maturity at one period and some at another; hence it is that we see
the very same rain productive of injury to some trees and beneficial
to others, even when they are of the very same species, as in the
pear for instance: for the winter pear stands in need of rain at one
period, and the early pear at another, though at the same time they,
all of them, require it in an equal degree. Winter precedes the period
of germination, and it is this fact that makes the north-east wind
more beneficial than the south, and renders the parts that lie in the
interior preferable to those near the coast,—the former being generally
the coldest,—mountainous districts better than level ones, and rain
at night better than showers in the day. Vegetation, too, receives
a greater degree of benefit from the water when the sun does not
immediately soak it up.
Connected, too, with this subject is the question of the best
situation for planting vines, and the trees which support them.
Virgil[2825] condemns a western aspect, while there are some persons,
again, who prefer it to an easterly one: I find, however, that most
authors approve of the south, though I do not think that any abstract
precepts[2826] can be given in relation to the point. The most careful
attention on the part of the cultivator ought to be paid to the
nature of the soil, the character of the locality, and the respective
influences of climate. The method of giving to the vine a southern
aspect, as practised in Africa and * * * * is injurious to the tree, as
well as unhealthy for the cultivator, from the very circumstance that
the country itself lies under a southern meridian: hence it is, that
he who selects for his plants there a western or a northerly aspect,
will combine on the most advantageous terms the benefits of soil with
those of climate. When Virgil condemns a western aspect, there can be
no doubt that he includes in his censure a northern aspect as well: and
yet, in Cisalpine Italy, where most of the vineyards have an aspect to
the north, it has been found by experience that there are none that are
more prolific.
The winds are also a very important consideration. In the provinces
of Gallia Narbonensis, and in Liguria and part of Etruria, it is
considered a proof of great want of skill to plant the vine on a site
that lies in the teeth of the wind Circius,[2827] while, on the other
hand, it is a mark of prudence to catch its breezes in an oblique
direction; it is this wind, in fact, that modifies the heat in those
countries, though at the same time it is usually so violent, as to
sweep away the roofs of the houses.
(3.) There are some persons who employ a method of making the question
of weather dependent upon the nature of the soil; thus in the case of
a vineyard, for instance, in a dry locality, they give it an eastern
or a northern aspect; but where it is planted on a humid site, it is
made to face the south. From the varieties of the vine also, they
borrow various modifications in reference to site; taking care to plant
the early vine in a cold locality, in order that the fruit may ripen
before the frosts come on; while such fruit trees and vines as have
an antipathy to dews are exposed to the east, that the sun may carry
off their humidity at the earliest moment. On the other hand, such
as manifest a partiality to dews are planted with a western or even
a northern aspect, to give them an opportunity of enjoying them all
the longer. Others, again, borrowing their notions pretty nearly from
Nature, have recommended that vines and trees should be planted facing
the north-east; indeed Democritus is of opinion, that by so doing the
fruit will be all the more odoriferous.
(4.) We have already spoken, in the Second Book,[2828] of the points
of the north-east and other winds, and shall have occasion in the
succeeding one to make mention of several more of the heavenly
phænomena. In the mean time, however, we may observe that it would
appear to be a manifest proof of the salubrity of a north-east site,
that the leaves are always the first to fall in the trees that have
an aspect towards the south.[2829] A similar reason exists, too, in
the maritime districts; in certain localities the sea breezes are
detrimental, though in most they are nutritious. For some plants,
again, it is pleasant to behold the sea at a distance, while at the
same time they will gain nothing by approaching closer to its saline
exhalations. The same, too, is the influence exercised by rivers and
lakes; they will either scorch the vegetation by the fogs they emit,
or else modify by their coolness the excess of heat. We have already
mentioned[2830] the plants that thrive in the shade, and in the cold
even; but in all these matters experience will be found the best of
guides.
CHAP. 3.—WHAT SOILS ARE TO BE CONSIDERED THE BEST.
Next after the influences of the heavens, we have to treat of those of
the earth, a task that is in no way more easy than the previous one.
It is but rarely that the same soil is found suited to trees as well
as corn: indeed, the black[2831] earth which prevails in Campania is
not everywhere found suited to the vine, nor yet that which emits light
exhalations, or the red[2832] soil that has been so highly praised
by many. The cretaceous earth that is found in the territory of Alba
Pompeia, and an argillaceous soil, are preferred to all others for
the vine, although, too, they are remarkably rich, a quality that is
generally looked upon as not suited to that plant. On the other hand,
again, the white sand of the district of Ticinum, the black sand of
many other places, and the red sand as well, even though mixed with a
rich earth, will prove unproductive.
The very signs, also, from which we form our judgment are often very
deceptive; a soil that is adorned with tall and graceful trees is not
always a favourable one, except, of course, for those trees. What tree,
in fact, is there that is taller than the fir? and yet what other plant
could possibly exist in the same spot? Nor ought we always to look upon
verdant pastures as so many proofs of richness of soil; for what is
there that enjoys a greater renown than the pastures of Germany? and
yet they consist of nothing but a very thin layer of turf, with sand
immediately beneath. Nor yet is the soil which produces herbage[2833]
of large growth always to be looked upon as humid; no, by Hercules!
no more than a soil is to be looked upon as unctuous and rich, which
adheres to the fingers—a thing that is proved in the case of the
argillaceous earths.[2834] The earth when thrown back into the hole
from which it has just been dug will never[2835] fill it, so that it is
quite impossible by that method to form any opinion as to its density
or thinness. It is the fact, too, that every[2836] soil, without
exception, will cover iron with rust. Nor yet can we determine[2837]
the heaviness or lightness of soils in relation to any fixed and
ascertained weight: for what are we to understand as the standard
weight of earth? A soil, too, that is formed from the alluvion[2838] of
rivers is not always to be recommended, for there are some crops that
decay all the sooner in a watery soil; indeed, those soils even of this
description which are highly esteemed, are never found to be long good
for any kind of vegetation but the willow.
Among other proofs of the goodness of soil, is the comparative
thickness of the stem in corn. In Laborium, a famous champaign country
of Campania, the stalk is of such remarkable thickness, that it may be
used even to supply the place of wood:[2839] and yet this very soil,
from the difficulty that is everywhere experienced in cultivating it,
and the labour required in working it, may be almost said to give the
husbandman more trouble by its good qualities than it could possibly
have done by reason of any defects. The soil, too, that is generally
known as charcoal earth, appears susceptible of being improved by being
planted with a poor meagre vine: and tufa,[2840] which is naturally
rough and friable, we find recommended by some authors. Virgil,[2841]
too, does not condemn for the vine a soil which produces fern:[2842]
while a salted earth[2843] is thought to be much better entrusted with
the growth of vegetation than any other, from the fact of its being
comparatively safe from noxious insects breeding there. Declivities,
too, are far from unproductive, if a person only knows how to dig
them properly; and it is not all[2844] champaign spots that are less
accessible to the sun and wind than is necessary for their benefit. We
have already[2845] alluded to the fact, that there are certain vines
which find nutriment in hoar frosts and fogs.
In every subject there are certain deep and recondite secrets, which
it is left to the intelligence of each to penetrate. Do we not,
for instance, find it the fact, that soils which have long offered
opportunities for a sound judgment being formed on their qualities
have become totally altered? In the vicinity of Larissa, in Thessaly,
a lake was drained;[2846] and the consequence was, that the district
became much colder, and the olive-trees which had formerly borne
fruit now ceased to bear. When a channel was cut for the Hebrus, near
the town of Ænos, the place was sensible of its nearer approach, in
finding its vines frost-bitten, a thing that had never happened before;
in the vicinity, too, of Philippi, the country having been drained
for cultivation, the nature of the climate became entirely altered.
In the territory of Syracuse, a husbandman, who was a stranger to
the place, cleared the soil of all the stones, and the consequence
was, that he lost his crops from the accumulation of mud; so that at
last he was obliged to carry the stones back again. In Syria again,
the plough-share which they use is narrow, and the furrows are but
very superficial, there being a rock beneath the soil that in summer
scorches up the seeds.
Then, too, the effects of excessive cold and heat in various places
are similar; thus, for instance, Thrace is fruitful in corn, by reason
of the cold, while Africa and Egypt are so in consequence of the heat
that prevails there. At Chalcia,[2847] an island belonging to the
Rhodians, there is a certain place which is so remarkably fertile,
that after reaping the barley that has been sown at the ordinary time,
and gathering it in, they immediately sow a fresh crop, and reap it at
the same time as the other corn. A gravelly soil is found best suited
for the olive in the district of Venafrum,[2848] while one of extreme
richness is required for it in Bætica. The wines of Pucinum[2849] are
ripened upon a rock, and the vines of Cæcubum[2850] are moistened by
the waters of the Pomptine[2851] marshes; so great are the differences
that have been detected by human experience in the various soils. Cæsar
Vopiscus, when pleading a cause before the Censors, said that the
fields of Rosia[2852] are the very marrow[2853] of Italy, and that a
stake, left in the ground there one day, would be found covered by the
grass the next:[2854] the soil, however, is only esteemed there for the
purposes of pasturage. Still, however, Nature has willed that we should
not remain uninstructed, and has made full admission as to existing
defects in soil, even in cases where she has failed to give us equal
information as to its good qualities: we shall begin, therefore, by
speaking of the defects that are found in various soils.
(5.) If it is the wish of a person to test whether a soil is bitter,
or whether it is thin and meagre, the fact may be easily ascertained
from the presence of black and undergrown herbs. If, again, the herbage
shoots up dry and stunted, it shows that the soil is cold, and if sad
and languid, that it is moist and slimy. The eye, too, is able to judge
whether it is a red earth or whether it is argillaceous, both of them
extremely difficult to work, and apt to load the harrow or ploughshare
with enormous clods; though at the same time it should be borne in
mind that the soil which entails the greatest amount of labour is not
always productive of the smallest amount of profit. So, too, on the
other hand, the eye can distinguish a soil that is mixed with ashes or
with white sand, while earth that is sterile and dense may be easily
detected by its peculiar hardness, at even a single stroke of the
mattock.
Cato,[2855] briefly and in his peculiar manner, characterizes the
defects that exist in the various soils. “Take care,” he says, “where
the earth is rotten not to shake it either with carts or by driving
cattle over it.” Now what are we to suppose that this term “rotten”
means, as applied to a soil, about which he is so vastly apprehensive
as to almost forbid our setting foot upon it? Let us only form a
comparison by thinking what it is that constitutes rottenness in
wood, and we shall find that the faults which are held by him in such
aversion are the being arid, full of holes, rough, white, mouldy,
worm-eaten, in fact, just like pumice-stone; and thus has Cato said
more in a single word than we could have possibly found means to
express in a description, however long. Indeed, if we could find means
of expressing the various defects that exist in soils, we should
find that there are some of them that are old, not with age (for age
cannot[2856] be concerned in relation to the earth), but of their own
nature, and are hence unfruitful and powerless for every purpose from
the first. The same writer,[2857] too, considers that as the very best
of soils, which, situate at the foot of a declivity, runs out into a
champaign country, taking a southward direction; such, in fact, being
the aspect of the whole of Italy:[2858] he says[2859] also, that the
earth generally known as black[2860] earth is of a tender nature,
and is consequently the most easily worked and the best for cereals.
If we only appreciate with due care the signification of this word
“tender,”[2861] we shall find that it expresses its intended meaning
remarkably well, and that in this word is comprised every quality that
is desirable for the purposes of cultivation. In a tender soil we
shall find fertility combined with moderation, a softness and a pliancy
easily adapted to cultivation, and an equal absence of humidity and of
dryness. Earth of this nature will shine again after the plough-share
has passed through it, just as Homer,[2862] that great fountain-head of
all genius, has described it sculptured by the Divinity[2863] upon the
arms [of Achilles], adding, too, a thing that is truly marvellous, that
it was of a blackish hue, though gold was the material in which it was
wrought. This, too, is that kind of earth, which, when newly turned up,
attracts the ravenous birds that follow the plough-share, the ravens
even going so far as to peck at the heels of the ploughman.
We may in this place appropriately make mention of an opinion that has
been pronounced by an Italian writer also with reference to a matter of
luxury. Cicero,[2864] that other luminary of literature, has made the
following remark: “Those unguents which have a taste of earth[2865] are
better,” says he, “than those which smack of saffron;” it seeming to
him more to the purpose to express himself by the word “taste”[2866]
than “smell.” And such is the fact, no doubt; that soil is the best
which has the flavour of a perfume.[2867] If the question should be put
to us, what is this odour of the earth that is held in such estimation,
our answer is, that it is the same that is often to be recognized at
the moment of sunset, without the necessity even of turning up the
ground, at the spots where the extremities of the rainbow[2868] have
been observed to meet the earth; as also when, after long-continued
drought, the rain has soaked the ground. Then it is that the earth
exhales this divine odour, that is so peculiarly its own, and to which,
imparted to it by the sun, there is no perfume, however sweet, that can
possibly be compared. It is this odour that the earth, when turned up,
ought to emit, and which, when once found, can never deceive a person;
and this will be found the best criterion for judging of the quality of
the soil. Such, too, is the odour that is usually perceived on land
newly cleared,[2869] when an ancient forest has been just cut down; its
excellence is a thing that is universally admitted.
For the culture of the cereals, too, the same land is generally looked
upon as the more improved the oftener it has been allowed to rest[2870]
from cultivation, a thing that is not the case with vineyards; for
which reason all the greater care is required in the selection of
their site, if we would not have the opinions of those to appear well
founded who entertain the notion that the soil of Italy is already
worn out.[2871] In other kinds of soil the work of cultivation depends
entirely upon the weather; as, for instance, in those which cannot
be ploughed just after rain, because the natural exuberance of the
earth renders it viscous and cloggy. On the other hand, in Byzacium, a
district of Africa, and a champaign country of such singular fertility
as to render grain one hundred and fifty fold,[2872] the soil is such,
that in time of drought, not even bulls are able to plough it; while,
on another occasion, just after a shower of rain, one poor ass, with
an old woman to guide it, is quite sufficient,[2873] as ourselves we
have witnessed, to do the ploughing. But as to amending one soil by
the agency of another, as some persons recommend, by throwing rich
earth over one that is poor and thin, or by laying a soaking light
soil over one that is humid and unctuous, it is a labour of perfect
madness.[2874] What can a man possibly hope for who cultivates such a
soil as this?
CHAP. 4. (6.)—THE EIGHT KINDS OF EARTH BOASTED OF BY THE GAULS AND
GREEKS.
There is another method, which has been invented both in Gaul and
Britain, of enriching earth by the agency of itself, being * * * * and
that kind known as marl.[2875] This soil is looked upon as containing a
greater amount of fecundating principles, and acts as a fat in relation
to the earth, just as we find glands existing in the body, which are
formed by a condensation of the fatty particles into so many kernels.
(7.) This mode of proceeding, too, has not been overlooked by the
Greeks; indeed, what subject is there that they have not touched upon?
They call by the name of leucargillon[2876] a white argillaceous earth
which is used in the territory of Megara, but only where the soil is of
a moist, cold nature.
It is only right that I should employ some degree of care and
exactness in treating of this marl, which tends so greatly to enrich
the soil of the Gallic provinces and the British islands. There were
formerly but two varieties known, but more recently, with the progress
of agricultural knowledge, several[2877] others have begun to be
employed; there being, in fact, the white, the red, the columbine, the
argillaceous, the tufaceous, and the sandy marls. It has also one of
these two peculiarities, it is either rough or greasy to the touch; the
proper mode of testing it being by the hand. Its uses, too, are of a
twofold nature—it is employed for the production of the cereals only,
or else for the enrichment of pasture land as well. The tufaceous[2878]
kind is nutrimental to grain, and so is the white; if found in the
vicinity of springs, it is fertile to an immeasurable extent; but if it
is rough to the touch, when laid upon the land in too large a quantity,
it is apt to burn up the soil. The next kind is the red marl, known
as acaunumarga,[2879] consisting of stones mingled with a thin sandy
earth. These stones are broken upon the land itself, and it is with
considerable difficulty during the earlier years that the stalk of the
corn is cut, in consequence of the presence of these stones; however,
as it is remarkably light, it only costs for carriage one-half of the
outlay required in using the other varieties. It is laid but very
thinly on the surface, and it is generally thought that it is mixed
with salt. Both of these varieties, when once laid on the land, will
fertilize it for fifty[2880] years, whether for grain or for hay.
(8.) Of the marls that are found to be of an unctuous nature, the best
is the white. There are several varieties of it: the most pungent
and biting being the one already mentioned. Another kind, is the
white chalk that is used for cleaning[2881] silver; it is taken from
a considerable depth in the ground, the pits being sunk, in most
instances, as much as one hundred feet. These pits are narrow at the
mouth, but the shafts enlarge very considerably in the interior, as is
the case in mines; it is in Britain more particularly that this chalk
is employed. The good effects of it are found to last full eighty
years; and there is no instance known of an agriculturist laying it
twice on the same land during his life.[2882] A third variety of white
marl is known as glisomarga;[2883] it consists of fullers’ chalk[2884]
mixed with an unctuous earth, and is better for promoting the growth
of hay than grain; so much so, in fact, that between harvest and the
ensuing seed-time there is cut a most abundant crop of grass. While the
corn is growing, however, it will allow no other plant to grow there.
Its effects will last so long as thirty years; but if laid too thickly
on the ground, it is apt to choke up the soil, just as if it had been
covered with Signine[2885] cement. The Gauls give to the columbine marl
in their language the name of eglecopala;[2886] it is taken up in
solid blocks like stone, after which it is so loosened by the action of
the sun and frost, as to split into laminæ of extreme thinness; this
kind is equally beneficial for grass and grain. The sandy[2887] marl is
employed if there is no other at hand, and on moist slimy soils, even
when other kinds can be procured.
The Ubii are the only people that we know of, who, having an extremely
fertile soil to cultivate, employ methods of enriching it; wherever
the land may happen to be, they dig to a depth of three feet, and,
taking up the earth, cover the soil with it in other places a foot
in thickness; this method, however, to be beneficial, requires to
be renewed at the end of every ten years. The Ædui and the Pictones
have rendered their lands remarkably fertile by the aid of limestone,
which is also found to be particularly beneficial to the olive and
the vine.[2888] Every marl, however, requires to be laid on the land
immediately after ploughing, in order that the soil may at once imbibe
its properties; while at the same time, it requires a little manure as
well, as it is apt, at first, to be of too acrid a nature, at least
where it is not pasture land that it is laid upon; in addition to
which, by its very freshness it may possibly injure the soil, whatever
the nature of it may be; so much so, indeed, that the land is never
fertile the first year after it has been employed. It is a matter of
consideration also for what kind of soil the marl is required; if the
soil is moist, a dry marl is best suited for it; and if dry, a rich
unctuous marl. If, on the other hand, the land is of a medium quality,
chalk or columbine[2889] marl is the best suited for it.
CHAP. 5. (9.)—THE EMPLOYMENT OF ASHES.
The agriculturists of the parts of Italy beyond the river Padus, are
such admirers of ashes[2890] for this purpose, that they even prefer
it as a manure to the dung of beasts of burden; indeed, they are in
the habit of burning dung for this purpose, on account of its superior
lightness. They do not, however, use them indiscriminately upon the
same soil, nor do they employ ashes for promoting the growth of shrubs,
nor, in fact, of some of the cereals, as we shall have occasion[2891]
to mention hereafter. There are some persons who are of opinion also
that dust[2892] imparts nutriment to grapes, and cover them with it
while they are growing, taking care to throw it also upon the roots
of the vines and other trees. It is well known that this is done in
the province of Gallia Narbonensis, and it is a fact even better
ascertained that the grape ripens all the sooner for it; indeed, the
dust there contributes more to its ripeness than the heat of the sun.
CHAP. 6.—MANURE.
There are various kinds of manure, the use of which is of very ancient
date. In the times of Homer[2893] even, the aged king is represented
as thus enriching the land by the labour of his own hands. Tradition
reports that King Augeas was the first in Greece to make use of it, and
that Hercules introduced the practice into Italy; which country has,
however, immortalized the name of its king, Stercutus,[2894] the son
of Faunus, as claiming the honour of this invention. M. Varro[2895]
assigns the first rank for excellence to the dung of thrushes kept in
aviaries, and lauds it as being not only good for land, but excellent
food for oxen and swine as well; indeed, he goes so far as to assert
that there is no food that they will grow fat upon more speedily. We
really have some reason to augur well of the manners of the present
day, if it is true that in the days of our ancestors there were
aviaries of such vast extent as to be able to furnish manure for the
fields.
Columella[2896] gives the second rank to pigeon manure,[2897] and the
next to that of the poultry-yard; but he condemns that of the aquatic
birds. Some authors, again, are agreed in regarding the residue of the
human food[2898] as the very best of all manures; while others would
only employ the superfluous portion of our drink,[2899] mixing with it
the hair that is to be found in the curriers’ workshops. Some, however,
are for employing this liquid by itself, though they would mix water
with it once more, and in larger quantities even than when originally
mixed with the wine at our repasts; there being a double share of
noxious qualities to correct, not only those originally belonging to
the wine,[2900] but those imparted to it by the human body as well.
Such are the various methods by which we vie with each other in
imparting nutriment to the earth even.
Next to the manures above mentioned, the dung of swine is highly
esteemed, Columella being the only writer that condemns it. Some,
again, speak highly of the dung of all quadrupeds that have been fed
on cytisus, while there are others who prefer that of pigeons. Next
to these is the dung of goats, and then of sheep; after which comes
that of oxen, and, last of all, of the beasts of burden. Such were
the distinctions that were established between the various manures
among the ancients, such the precepts that they have left us, and
these I have here set forth as being not the mere subtle inventions
of genius, but because their utility has been proved in the course of
a long series of years. In some of the provinces, too, which abound
more particularly in cattle, by reason of their prolific soil, we
have seen the manure passed through a sieve like so much flour, and
perfectly devoid, through lapse of time,[2901] of all bad smell or
repulsive look, being changed in its appearance to something rather
agreeable than otherwise. In more recent times it has been found that
the olive thrives more particularly in soil that has been manured with
the ashes[2902] of the lime-kiln. To the ancient rules Varro[2903] has
added, that corn land should be manured with horse-dung, that being
the lightest manure of all, while meadow land, he says, thrives better
with a manure of a more heavy nature, and supplied by beasts that have
been fed upon barley; this last tending more particularly to the better
growth of grass.[2904] Some persons, indeed, prefer the dung of the
beasts of burden to that of oxen even, the manure of the sheep to that
of the goat, and the manure of the ass to all others, the reason being
that that animal masticates the most slowly of them all. Experience,
however, has pronounced against these dicta of Varro and Columella;
but it is universally agreed by all writers that there is nothing more
beneficial than to turn[2905] up a crop of lupines, before they have
podded, with either the plough or the fork, or else to cut them and
bury them in heaps at the roots of trees and vines. It is thought,
also, that in places where no cattle are kept, it is advantageous to
manure the earth with stubble or even fern. “You can make manure,”
Cato[2906] says, “of litter, or else of lupines, straw, beanstalks, or
the leaves of the holm-oak and quercus. Pull up the wallwort from among
the crops of corn, as also the hemlock that grows there, together with
the thick grass and sedge that you find growing about the willow-plots;
of all this, mixed with rotten leaves,[2907] you may make a litter for
sheep and oxen. If a vine should happen to be but poor and meagre,
prune[2908] the shoots of it, and plough them in round about it.” The
same author says, also,[2909] “When you are going to sow corn in a
field, fold your sheep[2910] there first.”
CHAP. 7.—CROPS WHICH TEND TO IMPROVE THE LAND: CROPS WHICH EXHAUST IT.
Cato[2911] says, also, that there are some crops which tend to nourish
the earth: thus, for instance, corn land is manured by the lupine, the
bean, and the vetch; while, on the other hand, the chick-pea exercises
a contrary influence, both because it is pulled up by the roots and is
of a salt nature; the same is the case, too, with barley, fenugreek,
and fitches, all of which have a tendency to burn up[2912] corn land,
as, in fact, do all those plants which are pulled up by the roots. Take
care, too, not to plant stone-fruits on corn land. Virgil[2913] is of
opinion, also, that corn land is scorched by flax, oats, and poppies.
CHAP. 8.—THE PROPER MODE OF USING MANURE.
It is recommended,[2914] also, that the dung-heap should be kept in the
open air, in a spot deep sunk and well adapted to receive the moisture:
it should be covered, too, with straw, that it may not dry up with
the sun, care being taken to drive a stake of robur into the ground,
to prevent serpents from breeding[2915] there. It is of the greatest
consequence that the manure should be laid upon the land while[2916]
the west winds prevail, and during a dry moon. Most persons, however,
misunderstand this precept, and think this should be done when the west
winds are just beginning to blow, and in the month of February only;
it being really the fact that most crops require manuring in other
months as well. At whatever period, however, it may be thought proper
to manure the land, the greatest care should be taken that the wind is
blowing due west at the time, and that the moon is on the wane, and
quite dry. Such precautions as these will increase in a most surprising
degree the fertilizing effects of manure.
CHAP. 9. (10.)—THE MODES IN WHICH TREES BEAR.
Having now treated at sufficient length of the requisite conditions
of the weather and the soil, we shall proceed to speak of those trees
which are the result of the care and inventive skill of man. Indeed,
the varieties of them are hardly less numerous than of those which are
produced by Nature,[2917] so abundantly have we testified our gratitude
in return for her numerous bounties. For these trees, we find, are
reared either from seed, or else by transplanting, by layers, by slips
torn from the stock, by cuttings, by grafting, or by cutting into the
trunk of the tree. But as to the story that the leaves of the palm
are planted by the Babylonians, and so give birth[2918] to a tree, I
am really surprised that Trogus should have ever believed it. Some of
the trees are reproduced by several of the methods above enumerated,
others, again, by all of them.
CHAP. 10.—PLANTS WHICH ARE PROPAGATED BY SEED.
It is Nature herself that has taught us most of these methods, and more
particularly that of sowing seed, as it was very soon evident how the
seed on falling to the ground revived again in germination. Indeed,
there are some trees that are capable of being propagated in no other
way, the chesnut[2919] and the walnut, for instance; with the sole
exception, of course, of such as are employed for coppice wood. By this
method, too, as well as the others, some trees are propagated, though
from a seed of a different nature, such, for instance, as the vine, the
apple, and the pear;[2920] the seed being in all these cases in the
shape of a pip, and not the fruit itself, as in that of the chesnut
and the walnut. The medlar, too, can also be propagated by the agency
of seed. All trees, however, that are grown by this method are very
slow in coming to maturity,[2921] degenerate[2922] very rapidly, and
must often be renewed by grafting: indeed, the chesnut even sometimes
requires to be grafted.
CHAP. 11.—TREES WHICH NEVER DEGENERATE.
On the other hand, there are some trees which have the property of
never degenerating, in whatever manner they are reproduced, the
cypress, palm, and laurel,[2923] for instance: for we find that the
laurel is capable of being propagated in several ways. We have already
made mention[2924] of the various kinds of laurel; those known as the
Augustan, the baccalis, and the tinus[2925] are all reproduced in a
similar manner. The berries are gathered in the month of January,
after they have been dried by the north-east winds which then prevail;
they are then kept[2926] separate and exposed to the action of the
air, being liable to ferment if left in a heap. After this, they are
first seasoned with smoke, and then steeped in urine, preparatory to
sowing.[2927] Some persons put them in baskets of osier, and tread
them down with the feet in running water, until the outer skin is
removed, as it is found that the moisture[2928] which they contain is
detrimental to them, and prevents them from germinating. A trench is
then dug, about a palm in depth, and somewhere about twenty of the
berries are then put into it, being laid in a heap: this is usually
done in the month of March. These kinds of laurel admit of being
propagated from layers also; but the triumphal[2929] laurel can be
reproduced from cuttings only.
All the varieties of the myrtle[2930] are produced in Campania from the
berry only, but at Rome from layers. Democritus, however, says that the
Tarentine myrtle may be re-produced another way.[2931] They take the
largest berries and pound them lightly so as not to crush the pips:
with the paste that is thus made a rope is covered, and put lengthwise
in the ground; the result of which is that a hedge is formed as thick
as a wall, with plenty of slips for transplanting. In the same way,
too, they plant brambles to make a hedge, by first covering a rope of
rushes with a paste made of bramble-berries. In case of necessity, it
is possible at the end of three years to transplant the suckers of the
laurel and the myrtle that have been thus re-produced.
With reference to the plants that are propagated from seed, Mago treats
at considerable length of the nut-trees—he says that the almond[2932]
should be sown in a soft argillaceous earth, upon a spot that looks
towards the south—that it thrives also in a hard, warm soil, but
that in a soil which is either unctuous or moist, it is sure to die,
or else to bear no fruit. He recommends also for sowing those more
particularly which are of a curved shape like a sickle, and the produce
of a young tree, and he says that they should be steeped for three
days in diluted manure, or else the day before they are sown in honey
and water.[2933] He says, also, that they should be put in the ground
with the point downwards, and the sharp edge towards the north-east;
and that they should be sown in threes and placed triangularly, at the
distance of a palm from each other, care being taken to water them for
ten days, until such time as they have germinated.
Walnuts when sown are placed lengthwise,[2934] lying upon the sides
where the shells are joined; and pine nuts are mostly put, in sevens,
into perforated pots, or else sown in the same way as the berries are
in the laurels which are re-produced by seed. The citron[2935] is
propagated from pips as well as layers, and the sorb from seed, by
sucker, or by slip: the citron, however, requires a warm site, the sorb
a cold and moist one.
CHAP. 12.—PROPAGATION BY SUCKERS.
Nature, too,[2936] has taught us the art of forming nurseries; when
from the roots of many of the trees we see shooting up a dense forest
of suckers, an offspring that is destined to be killed by the mother
that has borne them. For by the shade of the tree these suckers are
indiscriminately stifled, as we often see the case in the laurel, the
pomegranate, the plane, the cherry, and the plum. There are some few
trees, the elm and the palm for instance, in which the branches spare
the suckers; however, they never make their appearance in any of the
trees except those in which the roots, from their fondness for the sun
and rain, keep close, as they range, to the surface of the ground. It
is usual not to place all these suckers at once in the ground upon the
spot which they are finally to occupy, but first to entrust them to
the nursery, and to allow them to grow in seed-plots, after which they
are finally transplanted. This transplanting softens down, in a most
remarkable manner, those trees even which grow wild; whether it is that
trees, like men, are naturally fond of novelty and change of scene, or
that, on leaving the spots of their original growth, or to which they
have been transplanted, they lay aside their bad qualities and become
tame, like the wild animals, the moment they are separated from the
parent stock.
CHAP. 13.—PROPAGATION BY SLIPS AND CUTTINGS.
Nature has also discovered another method, which is very similar to
the last—for slips torn away from the tree will live. In adopting
this plan, care should be taken to pull out the haunch[2937] of the
slip where it adheres to the stock, and so remove with it a portion
of the fibrous body of the parent tree. It is in this way that the
pomegranate, the hazel, the apple, the sorb, the medlar, the ash,
the fig, and more particularly the vine, are propagated. The quince,
however, if planted in this way will degenerate,[2938] and it has
been consequently found a better plan to cut slips and plant them: a
method which was at first adopted for making hedges, with the elder,
the quince, and the bramble, but came afterwards to be applied to
cultivated trees, such as the poplar, the alder, and the willow, which
last will grow if even the slip is planted upside down.[2939] In the
case of cuttings, they are planted at once in the spot which it is
intended they should occupy: but before we pass on to the other methods
of propagation, it seems as well to mention the care that should be
expended upon making seed-plots.[2940]
CHAP. 14.—SEED-PLOTS.
In laying out a seed-plot it is necessary that a soil of the very
highest quality should be selected; for it is very often requisite
that a nurse should be provided for the young plants, who is more
ready to humour them than their parent soil. The ground should
therefore be both dry and nutritious, well turned up with the mattock,
replete with hospitality to the stranger plants, and as nearly as
possible resembling the soil to which it is intended they should be
transplanted. But, a thing that is of primary importance, the stones
must be carefully gathered from off the ground, and it should be
walled in, to ensure its protection from the depredations of poultry;
the soil, too, should have as few chinks and crannies as possible, so
that the sun may not be enabled to penetrate and burn up the roots.
The young trees should be planted at distances[2941] of a foot and
a-half, for if they happen to touch one another, in addition to other
inconveniences, they are apt to breed worms; for which reason it is
that they should be hoed as often as possible, and all weeds pulled up,
the young plants themselves being carefully pruned, and so accustomed
to the knife.
Cato[2942] recommends, too, that hurdles should be set up upon forks,
the height of a man, for the purpose of intercepting the rays of
the sun, and that they should be covered with straw to keep off the
cold.[2943] He says that it is in this way that the seeds of the apple
and the pear are reared, the pine-nut also, and the cypress,[2944]
which is propagated from seed as well. In this last, the seed is
remarkably[2945] small, so much so, in fact, as to be scarcely
perceptible. It is a marvellous fact, and one which ought not to be
overlooked, that a tree should be produced from sources so minute,
while the grains of wheat and of barley are so very much larger, not
to mention the bean. What proportion, too, is there between the apple
and the pear tree, and the seeds from which they take their rise? It
is from such beginnings, too, as these that springs the timber that is
proof against the blows of the hatchet, presses[2946] that weights of
enormous size even are unable to bend, masts that support the sails
of ships, and battering-rams that are able to shake even towers and
walls! Such is the might, such is the power that is displayed by
Nature. But, a marvel that transcends all the rest, is the fact of a
vegetable receiving its birth from a tear-like drop, as we shall have
occasion to mention[2947] in the appropriate place.
To resume, however: the tiny balls which contain the seed are collected
from the female cypress—for the male, as I have already[2948] stated,
is barren. This is done in the months which I have previously[2949]
mentioned, and they are then dried in the sun, upon which they soon
burst, and the seed drops out, a substance of which the ants are
remarkably fond; this fact, too, only serves to enhance the marvel,
when we reflect that an insect so minute is able to destroy the first
germ of a tree of such gigantic dimensions. The seed is sown in the
month of April, the ground being first levelled with rollers, or else
by means of rammers;[2950] after which the seed is thickly sown, and
earth is spread upon it with a sieve, about a thumb deep. If laid
beneath a considerable weight, the seed is unable to spring up, and
is consequently thrown back again into the earth; for which reason
it is often trodden only into the ground. It is then lightly watered
after sunset every three days, that it may gradually imbibe the
moisture until such time as it appears above ground. The young trees
are transplanted at the end of a year, when about three-quarters of
a foot in length, due care being taken to watch for a clear day with
no wind, such being the best suited for the process of transplanting.
It is a singular thing, but still it is a fact, that if, on the day
of transplanting, and only that day, there is the slightest drop of
rain or the least breeze stirring, it is attended with danger[2951]
to the young trees; while for the future they are quite safe from
peril, though at the same time they have a great aversion to all
humidity.[2952] The jujube-tree[2953] is propagated from seed sown in
the month of April. As to the tuber,[2954] it is the best plan to graft
it upon the wild plum, the quince, and the calabrix,[2955] this last
being the name that is given to a wild thorn. Every kind of thorn, too,
will receive grafts remarkably well from the myxa plum,[2956] as well
as from the sorb.
(11.) As to recommending transferring the young plants from the
seed-plot to another spot before finally planting them out, I look
upon it as advice that would only lead to so much unnecessary trouble,
although it is most confidently urged that by this process the leaves
are sure to be considerably larger than they otherwise would.
CHAP. 15.—THE MODE OF PROPAGATING THE ELM.
The elm seed is collected about the calends of March,[2957] before the
tree is covered with leaves, but is just beginning to have a yellow
tint. It is then left to dry two days in the shade, after which it is
thickly sown in a broken soil, earth that has been riddled through
a fine sieve being thrown upon it, to the same thickness as in the
case of the cypress.[2958] If there should happen to be no rain, it
is necessary to water the seed. From the nursery the young plants are
carried at the end of a year to the elm-plots, where they are planted
at intervals of a foot each way. It is better to plant elms in autumn
that are to support the vine, as they are destitute[2959] of seed and
are only propagated from plants. In the vicinity of the City, the
young elms are transplanted into the vineyard at five years old, or,
according to the plan adopted by some, when they are twenty feet in
height. A furrow is first drawn for the purpose, the name given to
which is “novenarius,”[2960] being three feet in depth, and the same
in breadth or even more; into this the young tree is put, and the
earth is moulded up around it to the height of three feet every way.
These mounds are known by the name of “arula”[2961] in Campania. The
intervals are arranged according to the nature of the spot; but where
the country is level, it is requisite that the trees should be planted
wider apart. Poplars and ashes, too, as they germinate with greater
rapidity, ought to be planted out at an earlier period, or, in other
words, immediately after the ides of February.[2962] In arranging trees
and shrubs for the support of the vine, the form of the quincunx[2963]
is the one that is generally adopted, and, indeed, is absolutely
necessary: it not only facilitates the action of the wind, but presents
also a very pleasing appearance, for whichever way you look at the
plantation, the trees will always present themselves in a straight
line. The same method is employed in propagating the poplar from seed
as the elm, and the mode of transplanting it from the seed-plot is the
same as that adopted in transplanting it from the forests.
CHAP. 16.—THE HOLES FOR TRANSPLANTING.
But it is more particularly necessary in transplanting, that the
trees should always be removed to a soil that is similar, or else
superior,[2964] to the one in which they grew before. If taken from
warm or early ripening localities, they ought not to be removed to cold
or backward sites, nor yet, on the other hand, from these last to the
former. If the thing can possibly be done, the holes for transplanting
should be dug sufficiently long before to admit of their being covered
throughout with a thick coat of grass. Mago recommends that they should
be dug a whole year beforehand, in order that they may absorb the heat
of the sun and the moisture of the showers; or, if circumstances do not
admit of this, that fires should be made in the middle of them some two
months before transplanting, that being only done just after rain has
fallen. He says, too, that in an argillaceous[2965] or a hard soil, the
proper measurement is three cubits every way, and on declivitous spots
one palm more, care being taken in every case to make the hole like the
chimney of a furnace, narrower at the orifice than at the bottom. Where
the earth is black, the depth should be two cubits and a palm, and the
hole dug in a quadrangular form.
The Greek writers agree in pointing out much the same proportions, and
are of opinion that the holes ought not to be more than two feet and a
half in depth, or more than two feet wide: at the same time, too, they
should never be less than a foot and a half in depth, even though the
soil should be wet, and the vicinity of water preclude the possibility
of the soil going any deeper. “If the soil is watery,” says Cato,[2966]
“the hole should be three feet in width at the orifice, and one palm
and a foot at the bottom, and the depth four feet. It should be paved,
too, with stones,[2967] or, if they are not at hand, with stakes of
green willow, or, if these cannot be procured, with a layer of twigs;
the depth of the layer so made being a foot and a half.”
It appears to me that I ought here to add, after what has been said
with reference to the nature of trees, that the holes should be sunk
deeper for those which have a tendency to run near the surface of the
earth, such as the ash and the olive, for instance. These trees, in
fact, and others of a similar nature, should be planted at a depth of
four feet, while for the others three feet will be quite sufficient.
“Cut down that stump,” said Papirius Cursor, the general,[2968] when to
the great terror of the prætor of Præneste, he had ordered the lictors
to draw[2969] their axes. And, indeed, there is no harm in cutting away
those portions [of the root] which have become exposed. Some persons
recommend that a bed should be formed at the bottom, of potsherds or
round pebbles,[2970] which both allow the moisture to pass and retain
as much as is wanted; while at the same time they are of opinion that
flat stones are of no use in such a case, and only prevent the root
from penetrating[2971] the earth. To line the bottom with a layer of
gravel would be to follow a middle course between the two opinions.
Some persons recommend that a tree should not be transplanted before
it is two years old, nor yet after three, while others, again, are of
opinion that if it is one year old it is quite sufficient; Cato[2972]
thinks that it ought to be more than five fingers in thickness at the
time. The same author, too, would not have omitted, if it had been of
any importance, to recommend that a mark[2973] should be made on the
bark for the purpose of pointing out the southern aspect of the tree;
so that, when transplanted, it may occupy exactly the same position
that it has previously done; from an apprehension that the north side
of the tree, on finding itself opposite to a southern sun, might split,
and the south side be nipped by the north-eastern blasts. Indeed, there
are some persons who follow a directly opposite practice even in the
vine and the fig,[2974] by placing the north side of the tree, when
transplanted, towards the south, and vice versâ; being of opinion that
by adopting this plan the foliage becomes all the thicker[2975] and
the better able to protect the fruit, which is less liable to fall
off in consequence, and that the tree is rendered all the better for
climbing. Most people, however, take the greatest care to turn to the
south that part of the tree from which the branches have been lopped
at the top, little thinking that they expose it thereby to a chance
of splitting[2976] from the excessive heat. For my own part, I should
prefer that this part of the tree should face that point of the heavens
which is occupied by the sun at the fifth[2977] or even the eighth
hour of the day. People are also equally unaware that they ought not,
through neglect, to let the roots be exposed to the air long enough to
get dry; and that the ground should not be worked about the roots of
trees while the wind is blowing from the north, or, indeed, from any
point of the heavens that lies between north and south-east; or, at
all events, that the roots should not be left to lie exposed to these
winds; the result of such modes of proceeding being, that the trees
die, the grower being all the while in total ignorance of the cause.
Cato[2978] disapproves, too, of all wind and rain whenever the work of
transplanting is going on. When this is the case, it will be beneficial
to let as much adhere to the roots as possible of the earth in which
the tree has grown, and to cover them all round with clods[2979] of
earth: it is for this reason that Cato[2980] recommends that the
young trees should be conveyed in baskets, a very desirable method,
no doubt. The same writer, too, approves of the earth that has been
taken from the surface being laid at the bottom of the hole. Some
persons say,[2981] that if a layer of stones is placed beneath the root
of the pomegranate, the fruit will not split while upon the tree. In
transplanting, it is the best plan to give the roots a bent position,
but it is absolutely necessary that the tree should be placed in such
a manner as to occupy exactly the centre of the hole. The fig-tree, if
the slip when planted is stuck in a squill[2982]—such being the name
of a species of bulb—is said to bear with remarkable rapidity, while
the fruit is exempt from all attacks of the worm: the same precaution,
too, in planting, will preserve the fruit of all other trees in a
similar manner. Who is there, too, that can entertain a doubt that the
very greatest care ought to be taken of the roots of the fig-tree when
transplanted?—indeed, it ought to bear every mark of being taken, and
not torn, from out of the earth. Upon this subject I omit various other
practical precepts, such, for instance, as the necessity of moulding
up the roots with a rammer, a thing that Cato[2983] looks upon as of
primary importance; while, at the same time, he recommends that the
wound made in the stock should be first covered with dung, and then
bound with a layer of leaves.[2984]
CHAP. 17. (12.)—THE INTERVALS TO BE LEFT BETWEEN TREES.
The present seems to me to be the proper occasion for making some
mention of the intervals[2985] that ought to be left between the trees.
Some persons have recommended that pomegranates, myrtles, and laurels
should be planted closer together than the other trees, leaving,
however, a space of nine feet between them. Apple-trees, they say,
should be planted a little wider apart, and pear-trees, almonds, and
figs even still more so. The best rule, however, is to consult the
length of the branches, and the nature of the spot, as well as the
shade that is formed by the tree; for it is of great importance to take
this last into consideration. The shadow thrown by the large trees even
is but of small dimensions, when the branches are disposed around the
body of the tree in a spherical form, as in the apple and the pear, for
instance. In the cherry, on the other hand, and the laurel, the shadow
projected is of enormous extent.
CHAP. 18.—THE NATURE OF THE SHADOW THROWN BY TREES.
The shadows of trees are possessed of certain properties. That of the
walnut is baneful[2986] and injurious to man, in whom it is productive
of head-ache, and it is equally noxious to everything that grows in its
vicinity. The shadow, too, of the pine has the effect of killing[2987]
the grass beneath it; but in both of these trees the foliage presents
an effectual resistance to the winds, while, at the same time, the
vine is destitute of such protection.[2988] The drops of water that
fall from the pine, the quercus, and the holm-oak are extremely heavy,
but from the cypress none fall; the shadow, too, thrown by this last
tree is extremely small, its foliage being densely packed.[2989] The
shadow of the fig, although widely spread, is but light, for which
reason it is allowed to be planted among vines. The shadow of the
elm is refreshing and even nutrimental to whatever it may happen to
cover; though, in the opinion of Atticus, this tree is one of the most
injurious of them all; and, indeed, I have no doubt that such may be
the case when the branches are allowed to become too long; but at the
same time I am of opinion that when they are kept short it can be
productive of no possible harm. The plane also gives a very pleasant
shade,[2990] though somewhat dense: but in this case we must look more
to the luxuriant softness of the grass beneath it than the warmth of
the sun; for there is no tree that forms a more verdant couch on which
to recline.
The poplar[2991] gives no shade whatever, in consequence of the
incessant quivering of its leaves: while that of the alder is very
dense, but remarkably nutritive to plants. The vine affords sufficient
shade for its wants, the leaf being always in motion, and from its
repeated movement tempering the heat of the sun with the shadow that
it affords; at the same time too it serves as an effectual protection
against heavy rains. In nearly all trees the shade is thin, where the
footstalks of the leaves are long.
This branch of knowledge is one by no means to be despised or deserving
to be placed in the lowest rank, for in the case of every variety of
plant the shade is found to act either as a kind nurse or a harsh
step-mother. There is no doubt that the shadow of the walnut, the pine,
the pitch-tree, and the fir is poisonous to everything it may chance to
light upon.
CHAP. 19.—THE DROPPINGS OF WATER FROM THE LEAVES.
A very few words will suffice for the water that drops from the
leaves of trees. In all those which are protected by a foliage so
dense that the rain will not pass through, the drops are of a noxious
nature.[2992] In our enquiries, therefore, into this subject it will be
of the greatest consequence what will be the nature developed by each
tree in the soil in which we are intending to plant it. Declivities,
taken by themselves, require smaller[2993] intervals between the trees,
and in localities that are exposed to the wind it is beneficial to
plant them closer together. However, it is the olive that requires
the largest intervals to be left, and on this point it is the opinion
of Cato,[2994] with reference to Italy, that the very smallest
interval ought to be twenty-five feet, and the largest thirty: this,
however, varies according to the nature of the site. The olive is the
largest[2995] of all the trees in Bætica: and in Africa—if, indeed,
we may believe the authors who say so—there are many olive-trees that
are known by the name of milliariæ,[2996] being so called from the
weight of oil that they produce each year. Hence it is that Mago has
prescribed an interval between these trees of no less than seventy-five
feet every way, or of forty-five at the very lowest, when the soil
happens to be meagre, hard, and exposed to the winds. There is no
doubt, however, that Bætica reaps the most prolific harvests from
between her olives.
It will be generally agreed that it is a most disgraceful piece of
ignorance to lop away the branches more than is absolutely necessary in
trees of vigorous growth, and so precipitate old age; as also, on the
other hand, what is generally tantamount to an avowal of unskilfulness
on the part of those who have planted them, to have to cut them down
altogether. Nothing can reflect greater disgrace upon agriculturists
than to have to undo what they have done, and it is therefore much the
best to commit an error in leaving a superfluity of room.
CHAP. 20. (13.)—TREES WHICH GROW BUT SLOWLY: THOSE WHICH GROW WITH
RAPIDITY.
Some trees are naturally slow in their growth; and those in particular
which grow solely from seed[2997] and are long-lived. On the other
hand, those that are short-lived grow with great rapidity, such as the
fig, pomegranate, plum, apple, pear, myrtle, and willow, for instance;
and yet these are the very first to display their productions, for they
begin to bear at three years old, and make some show of it even before
that period. The pear is the slowest in bearing of all the trees above
enumerated. The cypirus,[2998] however, and the shrub known as the
pseudo-cypirus[2999] are the earliest in coming to maturity, for they
flower almost immediately, and then produce their seed. All trees will
come to maturity more rapidly when the suckers are removed, and the
nutrimental juices are thrown into the stock only.
CHAP. 21.—TREES PROPAGATED FROM LAYERS.
Nature, too, has taught us the art of reproduction from layers. The
bramble, by reason of its thinness and the excessive length to which
it grows, bends downwards, and throws the extremities of its branches
into the earth; these immediately take root again, and would fill
every place far and wide, were it not that the arts of cultivation put
a check to it; so much so, indeed, that it would almost appear that
men are born for nothing else but to take care of the earth. Hence it
is, that a thing that is in itself most noxious and most baneful, has
taught us the art of reproduction by layers and quicksets. The ivy,
too, has a similar property.
Cato[3000] says, that in addition to the vine, the fig, as well as the
olive, the pomegranate, every variety of the apple, the laurel, the
plum, the myrtle, the filbert, the nut of Præneste, and the plane, are
capable of being propagated by layers.
Layers[3001] are of two kinds; in the one, a branch, while still
adhering to the tree, is pressed downwards into a hole that measures
four feet every way: at the end of two years it is cut at the part
where it curves, and is then transplanted at the expiration of three
years more. If it is intended to carry the plant to any distance, it
is the best plan to place the layer, directly it is taken up, either
in an osier basket or any earthen vessel, for its better security
when carried. The other[3002] mode of reproduction by layers is a
more costly one, and is effected by summoning forth a root from the
trunk of the tree even. For this purpose, earthen vessels or baskets
are provided, and are then well packed with earth; through these
the extremities of the branches are passed, and by this mode of
encouragement a root is obtained growing amid the fruit itself, and at
the very summit of the tree; for it is at the summit that this method
is generally adopted. In this way has a bold and daring inventiveness
produced a new tree aloft and far away from the ground. At the end of
two years, in the manner already stated, the layer is cut asunder, and
then planted in the ground, basket and all.
The herb savin[3003] is reproduced by layers, as also by slips; it is
said, too, that lees of wine or pounded wall-bricks make it thrive
wonderfully well. Rosemary[3004] also is reproduced in a similar
manner, as also from cuttings of the branches; neither savin nor
rosemary having any seed. The rhododendrum[3005] is propagated by
layers and from seed.
CHAP. 22. (14.)—GRAFTING: THE FIRST DISCOVERY OF IT.
Nature has also taught us the art of grafting by means of seed. We
see a seed swallowed whole by a famished bird; when softened by the
natural heat of the crop, it is voided, with the fecundating juices of
the dung, upon some soft couch formed by a tree; or else, as is often
the case, is carried by the winds to some cleft in the bark of a tree.
Hence[3006] it is that we see the cherry growing upon the willow,
the plane upon the laurel, the laurel upon the cherry, and fruits of
various tints and hues all springing from the same tree at once. It
is said, too, that the jack-daw, from its concealment of the seeds
of plants in holes which serve as its store-houses, gives rise to a
similar result.
CHAP. 23.—INOCULATION OR BUDDING.
In this, too, the art of inoculating[3007] took its rise. By the aid of
an instrument similar to a shoe-maker’s paring-knife an eye is opened
in a tree by paring away the bark, and another bud is then enclosed
in it, that has been previously removed with the same instrument from
another tree. This was the ancient mode of inoculation with the fig and
the apple. That again, described by Virgil,[3008] requires a slight
fissure to be made in the knot of a bud which has burst through the
bark, and in this is enclosed a bud taken from another tree. Thus far
has Nature been our instructor in these matters.
CHAP. 24.—THE VARIOUS KINDS OF GRAFTING.
A different mode of engrafting, however, has been taught us by chance,
another great instructor, and one from whom, perhaps, we have learnt
a still greater number of lessons. A careful husbandman,[3009] being
desirous, for its better protection, to surround his cottage with a
palisade, thrust the stakes into growing ivy, in order to prevent them
from rotting. Seized by the tenacious grasp of the still living ivy,
the stakes borrowed life from the life of another wood, and it was
found that the stock of a tree acted in place of earth.
For this method of grafting the surface is made level with a saw, and
the stock carefully smoothed with the pruning-knife. This done, there
are two modes of proceeding, the first of which consists in grafting
between the bark and the wood. The ancients were fearful at first of
cutting into the wood, but afterwards they ventured to pierce it to
the very middle, and inserted the graft in the pith, taking care to
enclose but one, because the pith, they thought, was unable to receive
more. An improved method has, however, in more recent times, allowed
of as many as six grafts being inserted, it being considered desirable
by additional numbers to make a provision for the contingency of some
of them not surviving. With this view, an incision is carefully made
in the middle of the stock, a thin wedge being inserted to prevent the
sides from closing, until the graft, the end of which is first cut to
a point, has been let into the fissure. In doing this many precautions
are necessary, and more particularly every care should be taken that
the stock is that of a tree suitable for the purpose, and that the
graft is taken from one that is proper for grafting. The sap,[3010]
too, is variously distributed in the several trees, and does not occupy
the same place in all. In the vine and the fig[3011] the middle of the
tree is the driest, and it is in the summit that the generative power
resides; hence it is, that from the top the grafts are selected. In the
olive, again, the sap lies in the middle of the tree, and the grafts
are accordingly taken from thence: the upper part being comparatively
dry. The graft takes most easily in a tree, the bark of which is of a
similar[3012] nature to its own, and which, blossoming at the same time
as itself, has an affinity with it in the development of the natural
juices. On the other hand, the process of uniting is but slow where the
dry is brought in contact with the moist, and the hard bark with the
soft.
The other points to be observed are the following: the incision must
not be made in a knot, as such an inhospitable rigidity will certainly
repel the stranger plant; the incision should be made, too, in the part
which is most compact, and it must not be much more than three fingers
in length, not in a slanting direction, nor yet such as to pierce the
tree from side to side. Virgil[3013] is of opinion, that the grafts
should not be taken from the top, and it is universally agreed that
it is best to select them from the shoulders of the tree which look
towards the north-east;[3014] from a tree, too, that is a good bearer,
and from a young shoot,[3015] unless, indeed, the graft is intended
for an old tree, in which case it should be of a more robust growth.
In addition to this, the graft ought to be in a state of impregnation,
that is to say, swelling[3016] with buds, and giving every promise of
bearing the same year; it ought, too, to be two years old, and not
thinner than the little finger. The graft is inserted at the smaller
end, when it is the object of the grower that it should not grow to
any considerable length, but spread out on either side. But it is more
particularly necessary that the buds upon the graft should be smooth
and regular, and there must be nothing upon it at all scabbed or
shrivelled. Success may be fully reckoned on if the pith of the graft
is brought in contact with the wood and bark of the stock; that being
a much better plan than merely uniting them bark to bark. In pointing
the graft, the pith ought not to be laid bare; still, however, it
should be pared with a small knife, so that the point may assume the
form of a fine wedge, not more than three fingers in length, a thing
that may be very easily effected by first steeping it in water and then
scraping it. The graft, however, must not be pointed while the wind is
blowing, and care must be taken that the bark is not rubbed off from
either graft or stock. The graft must be thrust into the stock up to
the point where the bark begins; care, too, must be taken not to wrench
off the bark during the process of insertion, nor must it be thrust
back so as to form any folds or wrinkles. It is for this reason that
a graft should not be used that is too full of sap, no, by Hercules!
no more than one that is dry and parched; for by doing so, in the
former case, from the excess of moisture, the bark becomes detached,
and in the latter, from want of vitality, it yields no secretions, and
consequently will not incorporate with the stock.
It is a point most religiously[3017] observed, to insert the graft
during the moon’s increase, and to be careful to push it down with both
hands; indeed, it is really the fact, that in this operation, the two
hands, acting at the same moment, are of necessity productive of a more
modified and better regulated effort. Grafts that have been inserted
with a vigorous effort are later in bearing, but last all the longer;
when inserted more tenderly, the contrary is the result. The incision
in the stock should not be too open or too large; nor ought it to be
too small, for in such case it would either force out the graft or else
kill it by compression. But the most necessary precaution of all is to
see that the graft is fairly inserted, and that it occupies exactly the
middle of the fissure in the stock.
Some[3018] persons are in the habit of making the place for the
fissure in the stock with the knife, keeping the edges of the incision
together with bands of osier bound tightly round the stock; they then
drive in the wedges, the bands keeping the stock from opening too
wide. There are some trees that are grafted in the seed-plot and then
transplanted the very same day. If the stock used for grafting is of
very considerable thickness, it is the best plan to insert the graft
between the bark and the wood; for which purpose a wedge made of bone
is best, for fear lest when the bark is loosened the wood should be
bruised. In the cherry, the bark is removed before the incision in the
stock is made; this, too, is the only tree that is grafted after the
winter solstice. When the bark is removed, this tree presents a sort of
downy substance, which, if it happens to adhere to the graft, will very
speedily destroy it. When once the graft is safely lodged by the aid
of the wedge, it is of advantage to drive it home. It is an excellent
plan, too, to graft as near the ground as possible, if the conformation
of the trunk and knots will admit of it. The graft should not project
from the stock more than six fingers in length.
Cato[3019] recommends a mixture of argil[3020] or powdered chalk, and
cow-dung, to be stirred together till it is of a viscous consistency,
and then inserted in the fissure and rubbed all round it. From his
writings on the subject it is very evident that at that period it was
the practice to engraft only between the wood and the bark, and in no
other way; and that the graft was never inserted beyond a couple of
fingers in depth.[3021] He recommends, too, that the pear and the apple
should be grafted in spring, as also during fifty days at the time
of the summer solstice, and during the time of vintage; but that the
olive and the fig should be grafted in spring only, in a thirsting, or
in other words, a dry moon: he says also, that it should be done in
the afternoon, and not while a south wind is blowing. It is a singular
thing, that, not content with protecting the graft in the manner
already mentioned, and with sheltering it from showers and frosts by
means of turfs and supple bands of split osiers, he recommends that
it should be covered with bugloss[3022] as well—a kind of herb so
called—which is to be tied over it and then covered up with straw. At
the present day, however, it is thought sufficient to cover the bark
with a mixture of mud and chaff, allowing the graft to protrude a
couple of fingers in length.
Those who wait for spring to carry on these operations, will find
themselves pressed for time; for the buds are then just bursting,
except, indeed, in the case of the olive, the buds of which are
remarkably long in developing themselves, the tree itself having
extremely little sap beneath the bark; this, too, is apt, when in too
large quantities, to injure the grafts. As to the pomegranate, too,
the fig, and the rest of the trees that are of a dry nature, it is far
from beneficial to them to put off the process of grafting till a late
period. The pear may be grafted even when in blossom, so that with it
the operation may be safely delayed to the month of May even. If grafts
of fruit trees have to be carried to any distance, it is considered the
best plan, with the view of preserving the juices, to insert them in a
turnip; they may also be kept alive by placing them near a stream or a
pond, between two hollow tiles covered up at each end with earth. (15.)
The grafts of vines, however, are kept in dry holes, in which they are
covered over with straw, and then with earth, care being taken to let
the tops protrude.[3023]
CHAP. 25.—GRAFTING THE VINE.
Cato[3024] speaks of three[3025] methods of grafting the vine. The
first consists in piercing the stock to the pith, and then inserting
the grafts, sharpened at the end, in manner already mentioned, care
being taken to bring the pith of the two in contact. The second is
adopted in case the two vines are near one another, the sides of them
both being cut in a slanting direction where they face each other;
after which the pith of the two trees is united by tying them together.
In employing the third method, the vine is pierced obliquely to the
pith, and grafts are inserted a couple of feet in length; they are then
tied down and covered over with prepared earth, care being taken to
keep them in an upright position. In our time, however, this method
has been greatly improved by making use of the Gallic auger,[3026]
which pierces the tree without scorching it; it being the fact, that
everything that burns the tree weakens its powers. Care, too, is taken
to select a graft that is just beginning to germinate, and not to leave
more than a couple of the buds protruding from the stock. The vine,
too, should be carefully bound with withes of elm, incisions being made
in it on either side, in order that the slimy juices may exude through
them in preference, which are so particularly injurious to the vine.
After this, when the graft has grown a couple of feet, the withe by
which it is fastened should be cut, and the graft left to increase of
its own natural vigour.
The proper time[3027] for grafting the vine has been fixed as from the
autumnal equinox to the beginning of the budding season. The cultivated
plants are generally grafted on the roots of wild ones, where these
last are of a drier nature. But if a cultivated tree should be grafted
on a wild one, it will very soon degenerate and become wild.[3028]
The rest depends entirely on the weather. Dry weather is the best
suited for grafting; an excellent remedy for any evil effects that may
possibly be caused by the drought, being a few pots of earth placed
near the stock and filled with ashes; through which a little water is
slowly filtered. Light dews are extremely favourable to grafting by
inoculation.
CHAP. 26. (16)—GRAFTING BY SCUTCHEONS.[3029]
Grafting by scutcheons would appear to owe its origin to that by
inoculation; but it is suited more particularly to a thick bark,
such as that of the fig-tree for instance. For this purpose, all the
branches are cut off, in order that they may not divert the sap,
after which the smoothest part is selected in the stock, and a
scutcheon[3030] of the bark removed, due care being taken that the
knife does not go below it. A similar piece of bark from another tree,
with a protuberant bud upon it, is then inserted in its place, care
being taken that the union is so exact that there is no room left for
a cicatrix to form, and the juncture so perfect as to leave no access
to either damp or air: still, however, it is always the best plan to
protect the scutcheon by means of a plaster of clay and a band. Those
who favour the modern fashions pretend that this method has been only
discovered in recent times; but the fact is, that we find it employed
by the ancient Greeks, and described by Cato,[3031] who recommends it
for the olive and the fig; and he goes so far as to determine the very
dimensions even, in accordance with his usual exactness. The scutcheon,
he says, when taken off with the knife should be four[3032] fingers
in length, and three in breadth. It is then fitted to the spot which
it is to occupy, and anointed with the mixture of his which has been
previously described.[3033] This method, too, he recommends for the
apple.
Some persons have adopted another plan with the vine, which consists
partly of that of grafting by scutcheon, and partly by fissure; they
first remove a square piece of bark from the stock, and then insert a
slip in the place that is thus laid bare. I once saw at Thuliæ,[3034]
near Tibur, a tree that had been grafted[3035] upon all these various
ways, and loaded with fruit of every kind. Upon one branch there
were nuts to be seen, upon another berries, upon another grapes,
upon another pears, upon another figs, and upon others pomegranates,
and several varieties of the apple; the tree, however, was but very
short-lived. But, with all our experiments, we find it quite impossible
to rival Nature; for there are some plants that can be reproduced in
no other manner than spontaneously, and then only in wild and desert
spots. The plane[3036] is generally considered the best adapted to
receive every kind of graft, and next to it the robur; both of them,
however, are very apt to spoil the flavour of the fruit. Some trees
admit of grafting upon them in any fashion, the fig and the pomegranate
for instance; the vine, however, cannot be grafted upon by scutcheon,
nor, indeed, any other of the trees which has a bark that is thin,
weak, or cracked. So, too, those trees which are dry, or which contain
but little moisture, will not admit of grafting by inoculation. This
last method is the most prolific of them all, and next to it that by
scutcheon, but neither of them can be depended upon, and this last more
particularly; for when the adherence of the bark is the only point
of union the scutcheon is liable to be immediately displaced by the
slightest gust of wind. Grafting by insertion is the most reliable
method, and the tree so produced will bear more fruit than one that is
merely planted.
(17.) We must not here omit one very singular circumstance. Corellius,
a member of the Equestrian order at Rome, and a native of Ateste,
grafted a chesnut, in the territory of Neapolis, with a slip taken
from the same tree, and from this was produced the chesnut which is so
highly esteemed, and from him has derived its name. At a later period
again, Etereius, his freedman, grafted the Corellian[3037] chesnut
afresh. There is this difference between the two; the Corellian is more
prolific, but the Etereian is of superior quality.
CHAP. 27.—PLANTS WHICH GROW FROM A BRANCH.
It is accident that has the credit of devising the other methods of
reproduction, and has taught us how to break off a branch of a tree
and plant it in the earth, from seeing stakes, when driven in the
earth, take root, and grow. It is in this way that many of the trees
are reproduced, and the fig more particularly; which may be propagated
also by all the methods previously stated, with the exception, indeed,
of that by cuttings. The best plan, however, is to take a pretty
large branch, and, after sharpening it like a stake,[3038] to drive
it to a considerable depth in the earth, taking care to leave only a
small portion above ground, and then to cover it over with sand. The
pomegranate, too, may be planted in a similar manner, the hole being
first widened with a stake; the same, too, with the myrtle. For all
trees of this nature a branch is required three feet in length, and not
quite the thickness of the arm, care being taken to keep the bark on,
and to sharpen the branch to a point at the lower end.
CHAP. 28.—TREES WHICH GROW FROM CUTTINGS; THE MODE OF PLANTING THEM.
The myrtle, too, may be propagated from cuttings, and the mulberry
is grown no other way, the religious observances relative to
lightning[3039] forbidding it to be grafted on the elm;[3040] hence it
would appear that the present is a fitting opportunity for speaking of
reproduction from cuttings. Care should be taken more particularly to
select the slips from fruitful trees, and it should be seen that they
are neither bent, scabbed, nor bifurcated. The cuttings, too, should
be thick enough to fill the hand, and not less than a foot in length:
the bark, too, should be uninjured, and the end which is cut and lies
nearest the root should always be the one inserted in the earth. While
the work of germination is going on, the slip should be kept well
moulded up, until such time as it has fully taken root.
CHAP. 29. (18.)—THE CULTIVATION OF THE OLIVE.
Cato[3041] has treated so well of the precautions that are necessary
in cultivating the olive, that we cannot do better than employ his
own words on the subject. “Let the slips of olive,” says he, “which
you are about to plant in the hole, be three feet long, and be very
careful in your treatment of them, so as not to injure the bark when
you are smoothing or cutting them. Those that you are going to plant
in the nursery, should be a foot in length; and you should plant them
the following way: let the spot be turned up with the mattock, and the
soil be well loosened. When you put the cutting in the ground, press
it down with the foot only. If there is any difficulty in making it
descend, drive it down with a mallet or the handle of the dibble, but
be careful not to break the bark in doing so. Take care, too, not to
make a hole first with the dibble, for the slip will have the better
chance of surviving the other way. When the slip is three years old,
due care must be taken to observe the direction in which each side of
the bark is situate. If you are planting in holes or furrows, you must
put in the cuttings by threes, but be careful to keep them separate.
Above ground, however, they should not be more than four fingers
distant from one another, and each of them must have a bud or eye above
ground. In taking up the olive for transplanting, you must use the
greatest caution, and see that there is as much earth left about the
roots as possible. When you have covered the roots well up, tread down
the earth with the foot, so that nothing may injure the plant.”
CHAP. 30.—TRANSPLANTING OPERATIONS AS DISTRIBUTED THROUGHOUT THE
VARIOUS SEASONS OF THE YEAR.
If the enquiry is made what is the proper season for planting the
olive, my answer will be, “where the soil is dry, at seed-time; where
it is rich, in spring.” The following is the advice given by Cato[3042]
on the subject: “Begin pruning your olive-yard fifteen days before the
vernal equinox; from that period for forty days will be a good time for
doing so. In pruning, adopt the following rules: when the ground is
extremely productive, remove all the dry branches or such as may have
been broken by the wind; where it is not so prolific, you must cut away
still more, then tie them well up, and remove all tangled branches, so
as to lighten the roots. In autumn clear away the roots of the olive,
and then manure them. The man who labours most assiduously and most
earnestly will remove the very smallest fibres that are attached to the
roots. If, however, he hoes negligently, the roots will soon appear
again above ground, and become thicker than ever; the consequence of
which will be, that the vigour of the tree will be expended in the
roots.”
We have already stated, when speaking on the subject of oil,[3043]
what are the different varieties of the olive, in what kind of soil it
ought to be planted, and what is the proper aspect for the olive-yard.
Mago recommends that the olive should be planted on declivities and
in dry spots, in an argillaceous soil, and between autumn and the
winter equinox. If, on the other hand, the soil is thick, humid, or
somewhat damp even, it ought to be planted between harvest and the
winter solstice; advice, however, it should be remembered, applicable
to Africa more particularly. At the present day, it is mostly the
custom in Italy to plant the olive in spring, but if it is thought
desirable to do so in the autumn as well, there are only four days in
the forty between the equinox and the setting of the Vergiliæ that
are unfavourable for planting it.[3044] It is a practice peculiar to
Africa, to engraft the olive on the wild olive only, a tree which is
made to be everlasting, as it were; for when it becomes old the best
of the suckers are carefully trained for adoption by grafting, and in
this way in another tree it grows young again; an operation which may
be repeated continuously as often as needed; so much so, indeed, that
the same olive-yard will last for ages.[3045] The wild olive also is
propagated both by insertion and inoculation.
It is not advisable to plant the olive in a site where the quercus
has been lately rooted up; for the earth-worms, known as “raucæ,”
which breed in the root of the quercus, are apt to get into that of
the olive. It has been found, from practical experience, that it is
not advisable to bury the cuttings in the ground nor yet to dry them
before they are planted out. Experience has also taught us that it is
the best plan to clean an old olive-yard every other year, between the
vernal equinox and the rising of the Vergiliæ, and to lay moss about
the roots; to dig holes also round the trees every year, just after the
summer solstice, two cubits wide by a foot in depth, and to manure them
every third year.
Mago, too, recommends that the almond should be planted between the
setting of Arcturus[3046] and the winter solstice. All the varieties,
however, of the pear, he says, should not be planted at the same time,
as they do not all blossom together. Those with oblong or round fruit
should be planted between the setting of the Vergiliæ and the winter
solstice, and the other kinds in the middle of the winter, after the
setting of the constellation of the Arrow,[3047] on a site that looks
towards the east or north. The laurel should be planted between the
setting of the Eagle and that of the Arrow; for we find that the
proper time for planting is equally connected with the aspect of the
heavenly bodies. For the most part it has been recommended that this
should be done in spring and autumn; but there is another appropriate
period also, though known to but few, about the rising of the Dog-star,
namely; it is not, however, equally advantageous in all localities.
Still, I ought not to omit making mention of it, as I am not setting
forth the peculiar advantages of any one country in particular, but am
enquiring into the operations of Nature taken as a whole.
In the region of Cyrenaica, the planting is generally done while the
Etesian[3048] winds prevail, and the same is the case in Greece, and
with the olive more particularly in Laconia. At this period, also, the
vine is planted in the island of Cos; and in the rest of Greece they
do not neglect to inoculate and graft, though they do not[3049] plant,
their trees just then. The natural qualities, too, of the respective
localities, exercise a very considerable influence in this respect; for
in Egypt they plant in any month, as also in all other countries where
summer rains do not prevail, India and Æthiopia, for instance. When
trees are not planted in the spring they must be planted in autumn, as
a matter of course.
There are three stated periods, then, for germination;[3050] spring,
the rising of the Dog-star, and that of Arcturus. And, indeed, it is
not the animated beings only that are ardent for the propagation of
their species, for this desire is manifested in even a greater degree
by the earth and all its vegetable productions; to employ this tendency
at the proper moment is the most advantageous method of ensuring an
abundant increase. These moments, too, are of peculiar importance
in relation to the process of grafting, as it is then that the two
productions manifest a mutual desire of uniting. Those who prefer the
spring for grafting commence operations immediately after the vernal
equinox, reckoning on the fact that then the buds are just coming out,
a thing that greatly facilitates the union of the barks. On the other
hand, those who prefer the autumn graft immediately after the rising
of Arcturus, because then the graft at once takes root in some degree,
and becomes seasoned for spring, so as not to exhaust its strength all
at once in the process of germination. However, there are certain fixed
periods of the year, in all cases, for certain trees; thus, the cherry,
for instance, and the almond, are either planted or grafted about the
winter solstice. For many trees the nature of the locality will be the
best guide; thus, where the soil is cold and moist it is best to plant
in spring, and where it is dry and hot, in autumn.
Taking Italy in general, the proper periods for these operations may be
thus distributed:—The mulberry is planted at any time between the ides
of February[3051] and the vernal equinox; the pear, in the autumn, but
not beyond the fifteenth day before the winter solstice; the summer
apples, the quince, the sorb, and the plum, between mid-winter and the
ides of February; the Greek carob[3052] and the peach, at any time
in autumn before the winter solstice; the various nuts, such as the
walnut, pine, filbert, almond, and chesnut, between the calends of
March[3053] and the ides of that month;[3054] the willow and the broom
about the calends of March. The broom is grown from seed, and in a dry
soil, the willow from plants, in a damp locality, as already stated on
former occasions.[3055]
(19.) That I may omit nothing to my knowledge of the facts that I have
anywhere been able to ascertain, I shall here add a new method of
grafting, which has been discovered by Columella,[3056] as he asserts,
by the aid of which trees even of a heterogeneous or dissociable nature
may be made to unite; such, for instance, as the fig and the olive.
In accordance with this plan, he recommends that a fig-tree should be
planted near an olive, at a distance sufficiently near to admit of the
fig being touched by a branch of the olive when extended to its full
length; as supple and pliant a one as possible being selected for the
purpose, and due care being taken all the time to render it seasoned
by keeping it constantly on the stretch. After this, when the fig has
gained sufficient vigour, a thing that generally happens at the end
of three or five years at most, the top of it is cut off, the end
of the olive branch being also cut to a point in the manner already
stated.[3057] This point is then to be inserted in the trunk of the
fig, and made secure with cords, lest, being bent, it should happen
to rebound: in this way we find the method of propagating by layers
combined with that of grafting. This union between the two parent trees
is allowed to continue for three years, and then in the fourth the
branch is cut away and left entirely upon the tree that has so adopted
it. This method, however, is not at present universally known, at all
events, so far as I have been able to ascertain.
CHAP. 31.—CLEANING AND BARING THE ROOTS, AND MOULDING THEM.
In addition to these particulars, the same considerations that I have
already[3058] mentioned in reference to warm or cold, moist or dry
soils, have also taught us the necessity of trenching around the roots.
These trenches, however, in a moist, watery soil, should be neither
wide nor deep; while the contrary is the case where the ground is hot
and dry; it being the object, in the latter instance, to let them
receive and retain as much water as possible. This rule is applicable
to the culture of old trees as well; for in very hot places the roots
are well moulded in summer, and carefully covered up, to prevent the
heat of the sun from parching them. In other places, again, the ground
is cleared away from the roots, in order to give free access to the
air, while in winter they are carefully moulded to protect them from
the frost. The contrary is the case, however, in hot climates, for
there they bare the roots in winter for the purpose of ensuring a
supply of moisture to the parched fibres.
In all places the rule is to make a circular trench three feet in width
at the foot of the tree; this, however, it is not possible to do in
meadows, where the roots, in their fondness for the sun and showers,
range near the surface far and wide. Such, then, are the general
observations that we have to make in reference to the planting and
grafting of trees that we value for their fruits.
CHAP. 32. (20.)—WILLOW-BEDS.
It now remains to give an account of those trees which are planted for
the sake of others—the vine[3059] more particularly—and the wood of
which is cut from time to time. Holding the very first rank among these
we find the willow, a tree that is always planted in a moist soil. The
hole, however, should be two feet and a half in depth, and the slip a
foot and a half only in length. Willow stakes are also used for the
same purpose, and the stouter they are the better: the distance left
between these last should be six feet. When they are three years old
their growth is checked by cutting them down within a couple of feet
from the ground, the object being to make them spread out, so that by
the aid of their branches they may be cleared without the necessity
of using a ladder; for the willow is the more productive the nearer
its branches are to the ground. It is generally recommended to trench
round the willow every year, in the month of April. Such is the mode of
cultivation employed for the osier willow.[3060]
The stake willow[3061] is reproduced both from suckers and cuttings,
in a trench of the same dimensions. Stakes may be cut from it at the
end of about three years mostly. These stakes are also used to supply
the place of the trees as they grow old, being fixed in the ground as
layers, and cut away from the trunk at the end of a year. A single
jugerum of osier willows will supply osiers[3062] sufficient for
twenty-five jugera of vines. It is for a similar purpose that the white
poplar[3063] is grown; the trenches being two feet deep and the cutting
a foot and a half in length. It is left to dry for a couple of days
before it is planted, and a space is left between the plants a foot and
a palm in width, after which they are covered with earth to the depth
of a couple of cubits.
CHAP. 33.—REED-BEDS.
The reed[3064] requires a soil still moister even than that employed
for the willow. It is planted by placing the bulb of the root, that
part which some people call the “eye,”[3065] in a trench three quarters
of a foot in depth, at intervals of two feet and a half. A reed-bed
will renew itself spontaneously after the old one has been rooted up, a
circumstance which it has been found more beneficial to take advantage
of than merely to thin them, as was formerly the practice; the roots
being in the habit of creeping and becoming interlaced, a thing that
ends eventually in the destruction of the bed. The proper time for
planting reeds is before the eyes begin to swell, or, in other words,
before the calends of March.[3066] The reed continues to increase until
the winter solstice, but ceases to do so when it begins to grow hard, a
sign that it is fit for cutting. It is generally thought, too, that the
reed requires to be trenched round as often as the vine.
The reed also is planted in a horizontal position,[3067] and then
covered with earth to a very great depth; by this method as many plants
spring up as there are eyes. It is propagated, also, by planting out in
trenches a foot in depth, care being taken to cover up two of the eyes,
while a third knot is left just on a level with the ground; the head,
too, is bent downwards, that it may not become charged with dew. The
reed is usually cut when the moon is on the wane.[3068] When required
for the vineyard, it is better dried for a year than used in a green
state.
CHAP. 34.—OTHER PLANTS THAT ARE CUT FOR POLES AND STAKES.
The chesnut is found to produce better stays[3069] for the vine than
any other tree, both from the facility with which they are worked,
their extremely lasting qualities, and the circumstance that, when
cut, the tree will bud again more speedily than the willow[3070] even.
It requires a soil that is light without being gravelly, a moist,
sandy one more particularly, or else a charcoal earth,[3071] or a fine
tufa[3072] even; while at the same time a northern aspect, however cold
and shady, and if upon a declivity even, greatly promotes its growth.
It refuses to grow, however, in a gravelly soil, or in red earth,
chalk, or, indeed, any kind of fertilizing ground. We have already
stated,[3073] that it is reproduced from the nut, but it will only grow
from those of the largest size, and then only when they are sown in
heaps of five together. The ground above the nuts should be kept broken
from the month of November to February, as it is at that period that
the nuts lose their hold and fall of themselves from the tree, and then
take root. There ought to be intervals of a foot in width left between
them,[3074] and the hole in which they are planted should be nine
inches every way. At the end of two years or more they are transplanted
from this seed plot into another, where they are laid out at intervals
of a couple of feet.
Layers are also employed for the reproduction of this tree, and there
is none to which they are better[3075] adapted: the root of the plant
is left exposed, and the layer is placed in the trench at full length,
with the summit also protruding from the earth; the result being,
that it shoots from the top as well as the root. When transplanted,
however, it is very hard to be reconciled, as it stands in dread of all
change. Hence it is, that it is nearly two years before it will begin
to shoot upward; from which circumstance it is generally preferred
to rear the slips in the nursery from the nut itself, to obtaining
them from quicksets. The mode of cultivation does not differ from
that employed with the plants already mentioned.[3076] It is trenched
around, and carefully lopped for two successive years; after which it
is able to take care of itself, the shade it gives sufficing to stifle
all superfluous suckers: before the end of the sixth year it is fit for
cutting.
A single jugerum of chesnuts will provide stays for twenty jugera of
vineyard, and the branches that are taken from near the roots afford a
supply of two-forked uprights; they will last, too, till after the next
cutting of the tree.
The æsculus,[3077] too, is grown in a similar manner, the time for
cutting being three years at the latest. Being less difficult, too, to
propagate, it may be planted in any kind of earth, the acorn—and it is
only with the æsculus that this is done—being sown in spring, in a hole
nine inches in depth, with intervals between the plants of two feet
in width. This tree is lightly hoed, four times a year. This kind of
stay is the least likely to rot of them all; and the more the tree is
cut, the more abundantly it shoots. In addition to the above, they also
grow other trees for cutting that we have already mentioned—the ash for
instance, the laurel, the peach, the hazel, and the apple; but then
they are of slower growth, and the stays made from them, when fixed in
the ground, are hardly able to withstand the action of the earth, and
much less any moisture. The elder, on the other hand, which affords
stakes of the very stoutest quality, is grown from cuttings, like the
poplar. As to the cypress, we have already spoken of it at sufficient
length.[3078]
CHAP. 35. (21.)—THE CULTURE OF THE VINE AND THE VARIOUS SHRUBS WHICH
SUPPORT IT.
Having now described what we may call the armoury[3079] of the vine,
it remains for us to treat with a particular degree of care of the
nature of the vine itself.
The shoots of the vine, as also of certain other trees, the interior of
which is naturally of a spongy quality, have certain knots or joints
upon the stem that intercept the pith. The intervals between these
joints in the branches are short, and more particularly so towards the
extremities. The pith, in itself the vivifying spirit of the tree,
is always taking an onward direction, so long as the knot, by being
open in the centre, allows it a free passage. If, however, the knot
should become solidified and deny it a passage, the pith is then thrown
downward upon the knot that lies next below it, and making its escape,
issues forth there in the shape of a bud, these buds always making
their appearance on each side alternately, as already mentioned in the
case of the reed and the giant-fennel;[3080] in other words, where one
bud makes its appearance at the bottom of a knot to the right, the next
one takes its place on the left, and so on alternately. In the vine
this bud is known as the “gem,”[3081] as soon as the pith has formed
there a small round knob; but before it has done this, the concavity
that is left upon the surface is merely called the “eye:”[3082] when
situate at the extremity of the shoot, it is known as the “germ.”[3083]
It is in the same way, too, that the stock branches, suckers, grapes,
leaves, and tendrils of the vine are developed: and it is a very
surprising fact, that all that grows on the right[3084] side of the
tree is stronger and stouter than on the left.
Hence it is, that when slips of this tree are planted, it is necessary
to cut these knots in the middle, in order to prevent the pith from
making its escape. In the same way, too, when planting the fig, suckers
are taken, nine inches in length, and after the ground is opened they
are planted with the part downwards that grew nearest to the tree, and
with a couple of eyes protruding from the earth—in slips of trees, that
part is properly called the eye which is to give birth to the future
bud. It is for this reason that, in the seed-plots even the slips that
are thus planted sometimes bear the same year the fruit that they would
have borne if they had remained upon the tree: this takes place when
they have been planted in good seasons and are replete with fecundity,
for then they bring to maturity the fruits the conception of which was
commenced in another spot. Fig-trees that are thus planted may very
easily be transplanted in the third year. As some compensation for the
rapidity with which this tree becomes[3085] old, it has thus received
the privilege of coming to maturity[3086] at a very early period.
The vine throws out a great number of shoots. In the first place,
however, none of them are ever used for planting, except those which
are useless, and would have been cut away as mere brushwood; while,
on the other hand, every part is pruned off that has borne fruit the
previous year. In former times, it was the custom to plant the slip
with a head at the extremity, consisting of a piece of the hard wood on
each side of it, the same, in fact, that is called a mallet shoot[3087]
at the present day. In more recent times, however, the practice has
been adopted of pulling it off merely with a heel attached to it, as
in the fig;[3088] and there is no kind of slip that takes with greater
certainty. A third method, again, has been added to the former ones,
and a more simple one as well, that of taking the slip without any
heel at all. These slips are known by the name of arrow-[3089]shoots,
when they are twisted before planting; and the same, when they are
neither cut short nor twisted, are called three-budded[3090] slips.
The same sucker very often furnishes several slips of this kind. To
plant a stock-shoot[3091] of the vine is unproductive, and, indeed,
no shoots will bear unless they are taken from a part that has borne
fruit already. A slip that has but few knots upon it, is looked upon
as likely not to bear; while a great number of buds is considered an
indication of fruitfulness. Some persons say that no suckers ought to
be planted, but those which have already blossomed. It is far from
advantageous[3092] to plant arrow-slips, for after being twisted,
they are apt to break in transplanting. The slips when planted should
be a foot in length,[3093] and not less, and they ought to have five
or six knots upon them; with the dimensions above stated, they cannot,
however, possibly have less than three buds. It is considered the most
advantageous plan to plant them out the same day that they are cut; but
if it is found necessary to plant them some time after, they should be
kept in the way that we have already mentioned;[3094] particular care
being taken not to let them protrude from the earth, lest they should
become dried by the action of the sun, or nipped by the wind or frost.
When they have been kept too long in a dry place, they must be put in
water for several days, for the purpose of restoring their verdancy and
freshness.
The spot selected, whether for nursery or vineyard, ought to be
exposed to the sun, and of as great extent as possible; the soil being
turned up to a depth of three feet with a two-pronged fork. The earth,
on being thrown up with the mattock,[3095] swells naturally,[3096]
and ridges are formed with it four feet in height, intersected by
trenches a couple[3097] of feet in depth. The earth in the trenches
is carefully cleansed and raked out,[3098] so that none of it may be
left unbroken, care being taken also to keep it exactly level; if the
ridges are unequal, it shows that the ground has been badly dug. At
the same time the breadth should be measured of each ridge that lies
between the trenches. The slips are planted either in holes or else in
elongated furrows, and then covered with very fine earth; but where it
is a light soil, the grower will lose his pains should he neglect to
place a layer of richer mould beneath. Not less than a couple of slips
should be planted together, keeping them exactly on a level with the
adjoining earth, which should be pressed down and made compact with the
dibble. In the seed-plot there should be intervals left between each
two settings a foot and a half in breadth and half a foot in length:
when thus planted, it is usual, at the end of two years, to cut the
mallet-shoots at the knot nearest the ground, unless there is some
good reason for sparing them. When this is done, they throw out eyes,
and with these upon them at the end of three years the quicksets are
transplanted.
There is another method, also, of planting[3099] the vine, which
a luxurious refinement in these matters has introduced. Four
mallet-shoots are tightly fastened together with a cord in the greenest
part, and when thus arranged are passed through the shank-bone of an
ox or else a tube of baked earth, after which they are planted in the
ground, care being taken to leave a couple of buds protruding: in this
way they become impregnated with moisture, and, immediately on being
cut, throw out fresh wood. The tube is then broken, upon which the
root, thus set at liberty, assumes fresh vigour, and the clusters[3100]
ultimately bear upon them grapes belonging to the four kinds thus
planted together.
In consequence of a more recent discovery, another method has been
adopted. A mallet-shoot is split down the middle and the pith
extracted, after which the two portions are fastened together, every
care being taken not to injure the buds. The mallet-shoot is then
planted in a mixture of earth and manure, and when it begins to throw
out branches it is cut, the ground being repeatedly dug about it.
Columella[3101] assures us that the grapes of this plant will have no
stones, but it is a more surprising thing that the slip itself should
survive when thus deprived of the pith.[3102] Still, however, I think I
ought not to omit the fact that there are some slips that grow without
the ordinary articulations of trees upon them; thus, for instance, five
or six very small sprigs of box,[3103] if tied together and put in the
ground, will take root. It was formerly made a point to take these
sprigs from a box-tree that had not been lopped, as it was fancied that
in the last case they would not live; experience, however, has since
put an end to that notion.
The culture of the vineyard naturally follows the training of the
nursery. There are five[3104] different kinds of vine: that with
the branches running[3105] along the ground, the vine that stands
without support,[3106] the vine that is propped and requires
no cross-piece,[3107] the vine that is propped and requires a
single cross-piece, and the vine that requires a trellis of four
compartments.[3108] The mode of cultivation requisite for the propped
vine may be understood as equally adapted to the one that stands by
itself and requires no support, for this last method is only employed
where there is a scarcity of wood for stays. The stay with the single
cross-piece in a straight line is known by the name of “canterius.” It
is the best of all for the wine, for then the tree throws no shadow,
and the grape is ripened continuously by the sun, while, at the same
time, it derives more advantage from the action of the wind, and
disengages the dew with greater facility: the superfluous leaves and
shoots, too, are more easily removed, and the breaking up of the earth
and other operations about the tree are effected with greater facility.
But, above all, by the adoption of this method, the tree sheds its
blossoms more beneficially than under any other circumstances. This
cross-piece is generally made of a stake, or a reed, or else of a rope
of hair or hemp, as is usually the case in Spain and at Brundisium.
When the trellis is employed, wine is produced in greater quantities;
this method has its name of “compluviata” from the “compluvium” or
square opening in the roofs of our houses; the trellis is divided into
four compartments by as many cross-pieces. This mode of planting the
vine will now be treated of, and it will be found equally applicable to
every kind, with the only difference that under this last method the
operation is somewhat more complicated.
The vine is planted three different ways; in a soil that has been
turned up with the spade—the best of the three; in furrows, which is
the next best; and in holes, the least advisable method of all: of the
way in which ground is prepared by digging, we have made sufficient
mention already. (22.) In preparing the furrows[3109] for the vine it
will be quite sufficient if they are a spade in breadth; but if holes
are employed for the purpose, they should be three feet every way.
The depth required for every kind of vine is three feet; it should,
therefore, be made a point not to transplant any vine that is less than
three feet in length, allowing then two buds to be above the ground. It
will be necessary, too, to soften the earth by working little furrows
at the bottom of the hole, and mixing it up with manure. Where the
ground is declivitous, it is requisite that the hole should be deeper,
in addition to which it should be artificially elevated on the edge of
the lower side. Holes of this nature, which are made a little longer,
to receive two vines, are known as “alvei,” or beds. The root of the
vine should occupy the middle of the hole, and when firmly fixed in
the ground it should incline at the top due east; its first support it
ought to receive from a reed.[3110] The vineyard should be bounded by a
decuman[3111] path eighteen feet in width, sufficiently wide, in fact,
to allow two carts to pass each other; others, again, should run at
right angles to it, ten feet in width, and passing through the middle
of each jugerum; or else, if the vineyard is of very considerable
extent, cardinal[3112] paths may be formed instead of them, of the same
breadth as the decuman path. At the end, too, of every five of the
stays a path should be made to run, or, in other words, there should be
one continuous cross-piece to every five stays; each space that is thus
included from one end to the other forming a bed.[3113]
Where the soil is dense and hard it must be turned up only with the
spade, and nothing but quicksets should be planted there; but where,
on the other hand, it is thin and loose, mallet-shoots even may be
set either in hole or furrow. Where the ground is declivitous it is a
better plan to draw furrows across than to turn up all the soil with
the spade, so that the falling away of the earth may be counteracted by
the position of the cross-pieces.[3114] It will be best, too, where the
weather is wet or the soil naturally dry, to plant the mallet-shoots
in autumn, unless, indeed, there is anything in the nature of the
locality to counteract it; for while a dry, hot soil makes it necessary
to plant in autumn, in a moist, cold one it may be necessary to defer
it until the end of spring even. In a parched soil, too, it would be
quite in vain to plant quicksets, and it is far from advantageous to
set mallet-shoots in a dry ground, except just after a fall of rain.
On the other hand, in moist localities, a vine in leaf even may be
transplanted and thrive very well, and that, too, even as late as the
summer solstice, in Spain, for example. It is of very considerable
advantage that there should be no wind stirring on the day of planting,
and, though many persons are desirous that there should be a south wind
blowing at the time, Cato[3115] is of quite a different way of thinking.
In a soil of medium quality, it is best to leave an interval of
five[3116] feet between every two vines; where it is very fertile the
distance should be five feet at least, and where it is poor and thin
eight at the very most. The Umbri and the Marsi leave intervals between
their vines of as much as twenty feet in length, for the purpose of
ploughing between them; such a plot of ground as this they call by the
name of “porculetum.” In a rainy, foggy locality, the plants ought to
be set wider apart, but in dry spots nearer to one another. Careful
observation has discovered various methods of economizing space; thus,
for instance, when a vineyard is planted in shaded ground, a seed-plot
is formed there as well; or, in other words, at the same time that the
quickset is planted in the place which it is finally to occupy, the
mallet-shoot intended for transplanting is set between the vines, as
well as between the rows. By adopting this method, each jugerum will
produce about sixteen thousand quicksets; and the result is, that two
years’ fruit is gained thereby, a cutting planted being two years later
in bearing than a quickset transplanted. Quicksets, when growing in
a vineyard, are cut down at the end of a year, leaving only a single
eye above ground; some manure is then placed upon the spot, and a
stay driven in close to the plant. In the same manner it is again cut
down at the end[3117] of the second year, and from this it acquires
additional strength, and receives nutriment to enable it to endure the
onerous task of reproduction. If this is neglected, in its over-haste
to bear it will shoot up slim and meagre, like a bulrush, and from not
being subjected to such a training, will grow to nothing but wood.
In fact, there is no tree that grows with greater eagerness than the
vine, and if its strength is not carefully husbanded for the bearing of
fruit, it will be sure to grow to nothing but wood.
The best props for supporting the vine are those which we have already
mentioned,[3118] or else stays made of the robur and the olive; if
these cannot be procured, then props of juniper, cypress, laburnum,
or elder,[3119] must be employed. If any other wood is used for the
purpose, the stakes should be cut at the end each year: reeds tied
together in bundles make excellent cross-rails for the vine, and will
last as long as five years. Sometimes the shorter stock-branches of the
vines are brought together and tied with vine-cuttings, like so many
cords: by this method an arcade is formed, known to us by the name of
“funetum.”
The vine, by the end of the third year, throws out strong and vigorous
stock-branches with the greatest rapidity, and these in due time form
the tree; after this, it begins to mount the cross-piece. Some persons
are in the habit of “blinding” the vine at this period, by removing the
eyes with the end of the pruning-knife turned upwards, their object
being to increase the length of the branches—a most injurious practice,
however; for it is far better to let the tree become habituated to
grow of itself, and to prune away the tendrils every now and then when
they have reached the cross-rail, so long as it may be deemed proper
to add to its strength. There are some persons who forbid the vine
to be touched for a whole year after it has been transplanted, and
who say that the pruning-knife ought never to be used before it is
five years old; and then at that period they are for cutting it down
so completely as to leave three buds only. Others, again, cut down
the vine within a year even after it has been transplanted, but then
they take care to let the stem increase every year by three or four
joints, bringing it on a level with the cross-piece by the fourth.
These two methods, however, both of them, retard the fruit and render
the tree stunted and knotty, as we see the case in all dwarf trees.
The best plan is to make the parent stem as robust and vigorous as
possible, and then the wood will be sure to be strong and hardy. It
is far from safe, too, to take slips from a cicatrized stem; such a
practice is erroneous, and only the result of ignorance. All cuttings
of this nature are sure to be the offspring of acts of violence, and
not in reality of the tree itself. The vine, while growing, should
be possessed of all its natural strength; and we find that when left
entirely to itself, it will throw out wood in every part; for there is
no portion of it that Nature does not act upon. When the stem has grown
sufficiently strong for the purpose, it should at once be trained to
the cross-piece; if, however, it is but weak, it should be cut down so
as to lie below the hospitable shelter of the cross-piece. Indeed, it
is the strength of the stem, and not its age, that ought to decide the
matter. It is not advisable[3120] to attempt to train a vine before the
stem has attained the thickness of the thumb; but in the year after it
has reached the frame, one or two stock-branches should be preserved,
according to the strength developed by the parent tree. The same, too,
must be done the succeeding year, if the weakness of the stem demands
it; and in the next, two more should be added. Still, however, there
should never be more than four branches allowed to grow; in one word,
there must be no indulgence shown, and every exuberance in the tree
must in all cases be most carefully repressed; for such is the nature
of the vine, that it is more eager to bear than it is to live. It
should be remembered, too, that all that is subtracted from the wood
is so much added to the fruit. The vine, in fact, would much rather
produce shoots and tendrils than fruit, because[3121] its fruit, after
all, is but a transitory possession: hence it is that it luxuriates to
its own undoing, and instead of really gaining ground, exhausts itself.
The nature, too, of the soil will afford some very useful suggestions.
Where it is thin and hungry, even though the vine should display
considerable vigour, it should be pruned down below the cross-piece
and kept there, so that all the shoots may be put forth below it. The
interval, however, between the top of the vine and the cross-piece
ought to be but very small; so much so, indeed, as to leave it hopes,
as it were, of reaching it, which, however, it must never be suffered
to do; for it should never be allowed to recline thereon and spread
and run on at its ease. This mode of culture ought, in fact, to be so
nicely managed, that the vine should show an inclination rather to grow
in body than to run to wood.
The main branch should have two or three buds left below the
cross-piece that give promise of bearing wood, and it should be
carefully trained along the rail, and drawn close to it in such a
manner as to be supported by it, and not merely hang loosely from it.
When this is done, it should be tightly fastened also with a binding
three buds off, a method which will greatly contribute to check the too
abundant growth of the wood, while stouter shoots will be thrown out
below the ligature: it is absolutely forbidden, however, to tie the
extremity of the main branch. When all this is done, Nature operates
in the following way—the parts that are allowed to fall downward, or
those which are held fast by the ligature, give out fruit, those at the
bend of the branch more particularly. On the other hand, the portion
that lies below the ligature throws out wood; by reason, I suppose, of
the interception of the vital spirit and the marrow or pith, previously
mentioned:[3122] the wood, too, that is grown under these circumstances
will bear fruit in the following year. In this way there are two kinds
of stock branches: the first of which, issuing from the solid stock,
gives promise of wood only for this year, and is known as the leaf
stock-branch;[3123] while that which grows beyond the mark made by
the ligature is a fruit stock-branch.[3124] There are other kinds,
again, that shoot from the stock-branches when they are a year old,
and these are in all cases fruit stock-branches. There is left, also,
beneath the cross-piece a shoot that is known as the reserve[3125]
shoot, being always a young stock-branch, with not more than three buds
upon it. This is intended to give out wood the next year, in case the
vine by over-luxuriance should happen to exhaust itself. Close to it
there is another bud left, no bigger than a wart; this is known as the
“furunculus,”[3126] and is kept in readiness in case the reserve shoot
should fail.
The vine, if enticed to bear fruit before the seventh year from its
being planted as a slip, will pine[3127] away, become as slim as a
bulrush, and die. It is thought equally undesirable, too, to let an
old stock-branch range far and wide, and extend as far as the fourth
stay from the stem; to such a branch the name of dragon[3128]-branch
is given by some, and of juniculus by others; if these are allowed to
spread, they will run to wood only, and make male vines, as they are
called. When a vine has become quite hard, it is an extremely bad plan
to use it for reproduction by layers. When the vine is five years old
the stock-branches are twisted, but each is allowed to throw out some
new wood; and so from one to another, care being taken to prune away
the old wood. It is always the best plan, however, to leave a reserve
shoot; but this should always be very near the main stem of the vine,
not at a greater distance, in fact, than that already mentioned.[3129]
If, too, the stock branches should throw out too luxuriantly, they must
be twisted, the object being that the vine may put forth no more than
four secondary branches, or even two only, if it happens to be a single
cross-railed vine.
If the vine is to be trained to grow without any stay at all, still it
will stand in need, at first, of some support or other, until it has
learnt to support itself: in all other respects the mode of proceeding
will be the same at first. When pruning, it will be necessary that the
thumb-branches[3130] should be arranged in equal numbers on either
side, in order that the fruit may not overload one side of the tree;
and we may here remark by the way, that the fruit by its weight is
apt to bear down the tree and counteract any tendency to increase in
height. The vine, unsupported, when more than three feet in height,
begins to bend, but the others do not, until they are five feet
high at the least; care should be taken, however, never to let them
exceed the height of a man of moderate stature. Growers are in the
habit of surrounding the vines that creep along the ground with a low
fence[3131] for them to lean upon; and round this fence they dig a
trench by way of precaution, for fear lest the branches in their range
should meet one another and so come into collision. The greater part
of the world, in fact, gather grapes at their vintage, grown in this
fashion, and lying upon the ground—at all events, it is so in Africa,
Egypt, and Syria; throughout the whole of Asia, too, and in many parts
of Europe as well, this method prevails. In such cases the vine ought
to be kept down close to the ground, and the root should be nurtured at
the same time and in just the same way as in the case of the vine that
grows on the cross-piece. Care, too, should be taken to leave only the
young thumb-shoots, together with three buds, where it is a prolific
soil, two where it is poor and thin: it is better, too, that the shoots
should be numerous than individually long. The influences of soil, of
which we have made mention already, will make themselves felt all the
more powerfully the nearer the grapes grow to the ground.
It is a very advantageous plan to separate[3132] the various species
of vines and to set them in different compartments—for the mixture of
different varieties is apt to deteriorate the flavour not only of the
must, but the wine even as well. If, again, for some reason or other,
the different kinds must be intermingled, it will be requisite to keep
all those together which ripen at exactly the same period. The more
fertile and the more level the soil, the higher the cross-pieces must
be placed.[3133] High cross-pieces, too, are best suited to localities
that are subject to heavy dews and fogs, but not to those that are
exposed to high winds; on the other hand, where the soil is thin,
parched, and arid, or exposed to the wind, the cross-pieces should
be set lower. The cross-piece should be fastened to the stay with
cords tied as tight as possible, while the bindings used for tying
the vine should be thin. As to the various species of vines, and the
soils and climates requisite for the growth of each, we have already
treated[3134] of them, when enumerating the several varieties of the
vine and the wines which they produce.
With reference to other points connected with the culture of the vine,
there are very considerable doubts. Many persons recommend that the
vineyard should be turned up with the spade after every dew that falls
in the summer. Others, again, forbid this practice when the vine is in
bud; for the clothes, they say, of the people coming and going to and
fro are apt to catch the buds, and either knock or rub them off; it
is for this reason, too, that they are so careful to keep all animals
away from the vines, those with long wool in particular, as it is very
apt to pull off the buds. Raking, too, they say, is very injurious to
the vine while the grape is forming; and it will be quite sufficient,
they assure us, if the ground is turned up three times in the year,
after the vernal equinox—first, at the rising of the Vergiliæ,[3135]
the second at the rising of the Dog-star, and the third time just as
the grape is turning black. Some persons make it a rule that an old
vineyard shall have one turning up between the time of vintage and
the winter solstice, though others, again, are of opinion that it is
quite sufficient to bare the roots and manure them. They turn up the
ground again after the ides of April,[3136] but before the time for
germination, or, in other words, the sixth of the ides of May;[3137]
then again before the tree begins to blossom, after it has shed its
blossom, and, last of all, when the grape is just on the turn. The
most skilful growers say that if the ground is dug up oftener than
necessary, the grapes will become so remarkably thin-skinned as to
burst. When the ground is turned up, care should be taken to do it
before the hot hours of the day; a clayey soil, too, should never be
ploughed or dug. The dust that is raised in digging is beneficial[3138]
to the vine, it is said, by protecting it from the heat of the sun and
the injurious effects of fogs.
The spring clearing ought to be done, it is universally admitted,
within ten days after the ides of May,[3139] and before the
blossoming begins; in addition to which, it should always be done
below the cross-piece. As to the second clearing, opinions differ
very considerably. Some think it ought to be done when the blossoming
is over, others, again, when the grapes are nearly at maturity. This
point, however, may be decided by following the advice of Cato on the
subject; for we must now pass on to a description of the proper mode of
pruning the vine.
Immediately after[3140] the vintage, and while the weather is still
warm, the work of pruning[3141] begins; this, however, ought never to
be done, for certain physical reasons,[3142] before the rising of the
Eagle, as we shall have occasion to explain in the following Book. Nor
should it be done either when the west winds begin to prevail, for
even then there is great doubt whether a fault may not be committed by
being in too great haste to commence the work. If any return of wintry
weather should chance to nip the vines, while still labouring under the
wounds recently inflicted on them in pruning, there is little doubt
that their buds will become quite benumbed with cold, the wounds will
open again, and the eyes, moistened by the juices that distil from the
tree, will become frost-bitten by the rigour of the weather. For who
is there,[3142] in fact, that does not know that the buds are rendered
brittle by frost? All this, however, depends upon accurate calculations
in the management of large grounds, and the blame of precipitation
cannot with any justice be laid upon Nature. The earlier the vine is
pruned, in suitable weather, the greater is the quantity of wood, while
the later the pruning, the more abundant is the fruit. Hence it is that
it is most advisable to prune the poor meagre vines first, and to defer
pruning the more thriving ones to the very last. In pruning, due care
should always be taken to cut in a slanting direction, in order[3143]
that the rain may run off with all the greater facility. The wounds,
too, should look downwards towards the ground, and should be made as
lightly as possible, the edge of the knife being well-sharpened for the
purpose, so as to make a clean cut each time. Care should be taken,
too, to cut always between two buds, and that the eyes are not injured
in the operation. It is generally thought that wherever the vine is
black, all those parts may be cut off, the healthy parts not being
touched; as no useful shoots can be put forth by wood that is bad in
itself. If a meagre vine has not good stock-shoots, the best plan is to
cut it down to the ground, and then to train new ones. In clearing away
the leaves, too, those leaves should not be removed which accompany the
clusters, for by so doing the grapes are made to fall off, except where
the vine happens to be young. Those leaves are regarded as useless
which grow on the sides of the trunk and not from an eye; and so, too,
are the bunches which shoot from the hard, strong wood, and are only to
be removed by the aid of the knife.
Some persons are of opinion that it is a better plan to fix the stay
midway between two vines; and, indeed, by the adoption of this method
the roots are cleared with greater facility. It is best, however, where
the vine needs but a single cross-rail, due care being taken that the
rail is a strong one, and the locality not exposed to high winds. In
the case of those vines which require trellissed cross-rails, the stay
should be placed as near as possible to the burden it has to support;
in order, however, that there may be no impediment thrown in the way of
clearing the roots, it may be placed at the distance of one cubit from
the stock, but not more. It is generally recommended to clear the roots
before the pruning[3144] is commenced.
Cato[3145] gives the following general precepts in relation to the
culture of the vine:—“Let the vine grow as high as possible, and fasten
it firmly, but not too tight. You should treat it in the following
manner. Clean the roots of the vine at seed-time, and after pruning
it dig about it, and then begin to labour at the ground, by tracing
with the plough continuous furrows every way. Plant the young vines in
layers as early as possible, and then break up the ground about them.
If the vine is old, take care and prune it as little as possible. In
preference, bend the vine into the ground for layers, if necessary,
and cut it at the end of two years. The proper time for cutting the
young vine, is when it has gained sufficient strength. If the vineyard
is bald of vines, then draw furrows between them, and plant quicksets
there: but let no shadow be thrown on the furrows, and take care and
dig them often. If the vineyard is old, sow ocinum[3146] there, in
case the trees are meagre: but take care and sow there nothing that
bears seed. Put manure, chaff, and grape-husks about the roots, or,
indeed, anything of a similar nature that will give the tree additional
strength. As soon as the vine begins to throw out leaves, set about
clearing them. Fasten the young trees in more places than one, so that
the stem may not break. As soon as it begins to run along the stay,
fasten down the young branches lightly, and extend them, in order that
they may gain the right position. When the grape begins to be mottled,
then tie down the vine. The first season for grafting the vine is the
spring, the other when the grape is in blossom; the last period is the
best. If it is your wish to transplant an old vine, you will only be
able to do so in case it is no thicker than the arm: first, however,
you must prune it, taking care not to have more than two buds upon
the stem. Then dig it well up by the roots, being careful to trace
them, and using every possible precaution not to injure them. Place it
in the hole or furrow exactly in the position in which it has stood
before, then cover it with earth, which should be well trodden down.
You must then prop it up, fasten it, and turn it in the same direction
as before; after which, dig about it repeatedly.” The ocinum that Cato
here recommends to be sown in the vineyards, is a fodder known by that
name by the ancients; it thrives in the shade remarkably well, and
received its name[3147] from the rapidity with which it grows.
(23.) We come now to speak of the method of growing vines upon
trees,[3148] a mode that has been condemned[3149] in the strongest
terms by the Saserna’s, both father and son, and up-held by Scrofa,
these being our most ancient writers on agriculture next to Cato, and
men of remarkable skill. Indeed, Scrofa himself will not admit that
it is beneficial anywhere except in Italy. The experience of ages,
however, has sufficiently proved that the wines of the highest quality
are only grown upon vines attached to trees, and that even then the
choicest wines are produced by the upper part of the tree, the produce
of the lower part being more abundant; such being the beneficial
results of elevating the vine. It is with a view to this that the trees
employed for this purpose are selected. In the first rank of all stands
the elm,[3150] with the exception of the Atinian variety, which is
covered with too many leaves; and next comes the black poplar, which is
valued for a similar reason, being not so densely covered with leaves.
Most people, too, by no means hold the ash and the fig in disesteem,
as also the olive, if it is not overshadowed with branches. We have
treated at sufficient length already of the planting and culture of
these several trees.
They must not be touched with the knife before the end of three years;
and then the branches are preserved, on each side in its turn, the
pruning being done in alternate years. In the sixth year the vine is
united to the tree. In Italy beyond the Padus, in addition to the
trees already mentioned, they plant for their vines the cornel, the
opulus, the linden, the maple, the ash, the yoke-elm, and the quercus;
while in Venetia they grow willows for the purpose, on account of the
humidity[3151] of the soil. The top of the elm is lopped away, and
the branches of the middle are regularly arranged in stages; no tree
in general being allowed to exceed twenty feet in height. The stories
begin to spread out in the tree at eight feet from the ground, in
the hilly districts and upon dry soils, and at twelve in champaign
and moist localities. The hands[3152] of the trunk ought to have a
southern aspect, and the branches that project from them should be
stiff and rigid like so many fingers; at the same time due care should
be taken to lop off the thin beardlike twigs, in order to check the
growth of all shade. The interval best suited for the trees, if it is
the grower’s intention to keep the soil turned up with the plough, is
forty feet back and front, and twenty at the side; if it is not to be
turned up, then twenty feet[3153] every way will do. A single tree is
often made to support as many as ten vines, and the grower is greatly
censured who attaches less than three. It is worse than useless to
attach the vine before the tree has gained its full strength, as in
such case its rapidity of growth would only tend to kill the tree. It
is necessary to plant the vine in a trench three feet in depth, leaving
an interval of one foot between it and the tree. In this case there
is no necessity for using mallet shoots, or for going to any expense
in spading or digging; for this method of training on trees has this
advantage in particular, that it is beneficial even to the vine that
corn should be sown in the same soil; in addition to which, from its
height, it is quite able to protect itself, and does not call for the
necessity, as in the case of an ordinary vineyard, of enclosing it with
walls and hedges or ditches, made at a considerable expense, to protect
it from injury by animals.
In the method of training upon trees, reproduction from quicksets
or from layers is the only mode employed of all those that have
been previously described; the growing by layers being effected two
different ways, as already mentioned. The plan, however, of growing
from layers in baskets set upon the stages[3154] of the tree is the
most approved one, as it ensures an efficient protection from the
ravages of cattle; while, according to another method, a vine or else
a stock-branch is bent into the ground near the tree it has previously
occupied, or else the nearest one that may be at liberty. It is
recommended that all parts of the parent tree that appear above ground
should then be scraped, so that it may not throw out wood; while at the
same time there are never less than four buds on the part that is put
into the ground for the purpose of taking root; there are also two buds
left above ground at the head. The vine intended for training on a tree
is planted in a furrow four feet long, three broad, and two and a half
in depth. At the end of a year the layer is cut to the pith, to enable
it to strengthen gradually at the root; after which, the end of the
branch is pruned down to within two buds from the ground. At the end of
two years the layer is completely separated from the stock, and buried
deeper in the ground, that it may not shoot at the place where it has
been cut. As to the quicksets, they ought to be removed directly after
the vintage.
In more recent times, a plan has been discovered of planting a dragon
branch near the tree—that being the name given to an old stock-branch
that has become hard and tough in the course of years. For this
purpose, it is cut as long as possible, and the bark is taken off
from three-fourths of its length, that being the portion which is
to be buried in the ground; hence it is, too, that it is called a
“barked”[3155] plant. It is then laid at full length in the furrow,
the remaining part protruding from the ground and reclining against
the tree. This method is the most speedy one that can be adopted for
growing the vine. If the vine is meagre or the soil impoverished, it
is usual to keep it cut down as near to the ground as possible, until
such time as the root is strengthened. Care, too, should be taken not
to plant it covered with dew,[3156] nor yet while the wind is blowing
from the north. The vine itself ought to look towards the north-east,
but the young stock-shoots should have a southern aspect.
There should not be too great haste[3157] in pruning a young vine, but
a beginning should be made by giving the wood and foliage a circular
form, care being taken not to prune it until it has become quite
strong; it should be remembered, too, that the vine, when trained upon
a tree, is generally a year later in bearing fruit than when grown on
the cross-piece. There are some persons, again, who altogether forbid
that a vine should be pruned until such time as it equals the tree in
height. At the first pruning it may be cut to within six feet from the
ground, below which a shoot must be left, and encouraged to run out by
bending the young wood. Upon this shoot, when pruned, there should not
be more than three buds left. The branches that take their rise from
these buds should be trained in the following year upon the lowermost
stages of the tree, and so in each successive year taught to climb to
the higher ones. Care, too, should always be taken to leave one hard,
woody branch at each stage, as well as one breeding shoot, at liberty
to mount as high as it pleases. In addition to these precautions, in
all pruning, those shoots should be cut off which have borne fruit the
last year, and after the tendrils[3158] have been cut away on every
side fresh branches should be trained to run along the stages. In Italy
the pruning is so managed that the shoots and tendrils of the vines
are arranged so as to cover the branches of the tree, while the shoots
of the vine in their turn are surrounded with clusters of grapes. In
Gallia, on the other hand, the vine is trained to pass from tree to
tree. On the Æmilian Way, again, the vine is seen embracing the trunks
of the Atinian elms that line the road, while at the same time it
carefully avoids their foliage.[3159]