FRUIT OF YEW (Taxus baccata)
Anyone who has stood on a summer noon within one or other of the two remarkable yew woods on Lord Radnor's property near Salisbury cannot fail to recognise the truth of this picture in every detail. The sense of gloom and envious shade in those "swarthy groves" must oppress him who enters it. They are known respectively as "the Great Yews"and "the Little Yews," the former being of the greater extent—about 80 acres—but the largest trees are growing in the Little Yews. Although these two woods are almost certainly of natural origin, traces of replanting may be recognised here and there by the regular lines in which some of the great trees are disposed, telling of a time when the timber was in request for bow-making.
Tennyson came to realise that the yew really responds in its own fashion to the summons of spring as briskly as any rose or lily, and that a sparrow cannot alight upon it in April without disturbing a puff of pollen:
Old warder of these buried bones,And answering now my random strokeWith fruitful cloud and living smoke,Dark yew, that graspest at the stonesAnd dippest toward the dreamless head,To thee, too, comes the golden hourWhen flower is feeling after flower.
Surely there is nothing more delightful in English verse than the delicate phrase in which Tennyson touches upon some of the less obvious workings of nature.
Evelyn observes regretfully in the seventeenth century: "Since the use of bows is laid aside amongst us, the propagation of the eugh is likewise quite forborn; but the neglect of it is to be deplored." Howbeit, on the whole, one cannot regret that this sombre tree is less often planted than it was when the Kings of England were striving desperately to retain theirrich lands in France. The yew requires two or three centuries to acquire dignity. Such venerable ruins as the great yew in the churchyard of Leeds, in Kent, measuring 32 feet in girth at 3½ feet from the ground, command admiration akin to awe from creatures whose span is but three-score years and ten. So do the yews on Merrow Down, near Guildford, reputed to have marked the Pilgrims' Way to Canterbury; and the yews of Borrodale and Inch Lonaig, on Loch Lomond, we cherish as traces of the primæval forest. But for decorative work, for sheltering hedges in garden and pleasure ground, let us take some more lightsome evergreen from the wealth of choice that the enterprise of collectors has furnished us withal. The Lawson cypress, the giant thuja, the so-called Albert spruce, and many others, are of far nobler growth than the yew and equally patient of the shears, if clipped they have to be. True, they are foreigners, but so are the Spanish and horse-chestnuts, the silver fir, the sycamore, the English elm, and many other growths which have become integral parts of our home landscape; assuredly our forbears would not have hesitated to plant better things than yews if they had been given the chance. That they did plant what they had may be seen from the note made by Giraldus Cambrensis when he visited Ireland in the year 1184:
"Here the yew with its bitter sap is far more abundant than in all the other countries where we have been, but chiefly in old graveyards; and of these trees you may see plenty planted of old in these sacred places by the hands of holy men who did what they could to honour and adorn them."
"Here the yew with its bitter sap is far more abundant than in all the other countries where we have been, but chiefly in old graveyards; and of these trees you may see plenty planted of old in these sacred places by the hands of holy men who did what they could to honour and adorn them."
THE EARL OF RADNOR IN HIS YEW GROVE NEAR DOWNTON, WILTS
Given elbow room, the yew takes liberal advantage of it, and is apt to spread to a breadth equal to or greater than its height. A singular departure from this habit was made by a seedling found in 1767 on the hills near Florence Court, in County Fermanagh, which grew in a strictly fastigiate or columnar form, and became the progenitor (by cuttings) of what is now known in all temperate parts of the globe as the Irish yew.
Geologically the yew is of immense antiquity in this island; indeed, it grew in what is now the island of Britain before that was severed from the Continent, as is proved by its remains in the forest bed underlying the glacial drift on the coast of Norfolk, where its fruits, identical with those of the present time, have been recognised lying among the bones of elephant, rhinoceros, and four species of bear. A closely kindred form of yew, with somewhat smaller seeds, has been found in the German coal-fields, showing that the type has existed from an incalculably distant period, before the formation of the chalk. Botanically, therefore, the yew must be regarded as contemporary with such archaic types of vegetation as the Gingko, the Umbrella pine (Sciadopytis), the Cycads, and the Horsetails.
Of the age of individual trees exaggerated estimates have been formed and statements devoid of evidence made. Thus a fine yew at Yew Park, Clontarf, near Dublin, is confidently shown to visitors as that under which Brian Boruimh, King of Ireland, died on Good Friday,A.D.1014. Very likely hebreathed his last under a yew tree growing on that spot; but it is incredible that this should be the identical tree, for although it has a wide spread of branches, the trunk only measures 12 feet in girth. Compare this with the recorded increase of a yew at Ankerwyke, near Staines, which in 1822 girthed 27 feet 8 inches, and in 1877 had increased to 30 feet 5 inches, and it is clear that the Clontarf tradition cannot be seriously entertained.
It would grievously wound the feelings of a townman of Chichester to express any lack of confidence in the tradition which affirms that the yews in Kinglye Bottom, near that town, were growing there when the Norsemen landed among them a thousand years ago; but listen to Dr. Lowe's chilly analysis of the grounds for that belief. "Had it been said that yews were there, the statement would have been accurate; but that 'the yews,' meaning those still existing, were then in being, is too large a demand on our credulity, as there is no tree at that place which exceeds 15.4 feet in girth, or possibly about five hundred years in age."[23]In like manner the belief that Montrose rested under the fine yew at Abercairney, in Perthshire, must be dismissed, for it only girths 10 feet 7 inches, indicating an age of about 200 years; whereas to have afforded effective shelter in the year 1640 it ought by this time to be at least 370 years old.
The usual indication of age by annual rings ofgrowth cannot be trusted in the case of the yew, owing to a peculiarity in its habit of growth. Injury to a main branch often causes all that part of the stem with which it is connected to die under the bark right down to the ground, the injury being repaired by a rush of young shoots from the living bark; and these, if they get head room, grow vigorously and ultimately become welded together. This process vitiates the record of annual rings, and although it is a means of rejuvenescence which no doubt prolongs the life of the tree, it would not be safe to assume that there is any yew in the British Isles more than five hundred years old. Dr. John Lowe was at great pains to collect evidence on this matter, and failed to obtaindocumentaryproof of any yew exceeding 250 years of age.
The practice of planting yews in churchyards helps to account for the extravagant statements about the age of certain trees. Generation after generation has become familiar with seeing a yew beside the parish church; the date of the building of the church being accurately known, it comes to be assumed that church and tree are coeval. Dr. Lowe gives a case in point of two churches in contiguous parishes in Kent, each of which has a large yew in the churchyard reckoned to be the same age as the church. One of these yews measures 16 feet in girth, the other 17 feet; but as one of the churches dates back to the eleventh century, and the other only to the fourteenth, the tradition about the trees would have one yew to be three hundred years older thanthe other, although only differing in girth by one foot.[24]
The poisonous properties of the yew are pretty generally known; in fact, Pliny says that the adjectivetoxicus, poisonous, was once writtentaxicusfromtaxus, the yew. But in theEnglish Encyclopædiais the mischievous statement—"It is now well known that the fruit of the yew may be eaten with impunity." It is quite true that the pulp surrounding the seed, with its sweet but sickly taste, does not possess the poisonous properties of the foliage and young bark; but the seed itself is deadly, numerous fatal cases having been recorded as the result of swallowing it. On the whole, therefore, it is best to give children nice chocolates on condition that they leave the pretty yew berries alone.
A yew bearing yellow berries originated at Glasnevin about 100 years ago and has been pretty extensively propagated in Ireland, but I have never happened to see it in fruit, though I have a clear recollection of the weird yew avenue at Glasnevin.
The Irish or Florence Court yew, described above, found high favour with garden designers seventy or eighty years ago, owing to its fastigiate habit; but, at best, it is a funereal object, and a more cheerful effect may be obtained by planting Incense Cedar (Libocedrus decurrens), Lawson Cypress or Pencil Cedar (Juniperus virginiana).
Dr. Prior, in his excellent work on thePopular Names of British Plants(1879), argued confidentlythat the names "yew" and "ivy" were but different forms of the same word; but the late Professor Skeat declined to admit that there was any connection between them. It is an elusive element in English place-names; Yeovil in Somerset being assigned to a totally different origin. Yeoford, in Devon, has been variously written Uford and Yewford, and may possibly be named from a yew tree, and so may Uffculme in the same county. The Gaeliciubhar(pronounced "yure") is more easily recognised in the suffix -ure or -nure to many Irish and Scottish place-names. For instance, Gortinure, near Londonderry, is writtenGort-an-iubhairin theAnnals of the Four Masters; Glenure in Argyll and Palnure in Galloway are respectively the glen and stream (pol) of the yews. The word is more closely disguised in Newry, County Down; but that name is explained in the aforesaidAnnalsas derived from a yew planted by St. Patrick himself, whence the monastery founded there was calledIubhar-cinn-trachta, the yew near high tide-mark. The name was shortened into an-Iubharach, whence the transition was easy to Newry. In Galloway, Palnure is the stream of the yews, and in Ayrshire Dunure is the fort of the yew-tree.
Among all the green things that clothe this wonderful globe—that globe which man strives so desperately to unclothe that he may pile upon it leagues of bricks and mortar, defile it with the smoke of myriad furnaces, burrow in it in pursuit of pelf to pay for still more bricks, mortar and furnaces—among these green things, I say, no group bears the badge of clanship more openly than the Cypresses (Cupressineæ), a branch of the great order of Conifers. It contains but a single species indigenous to the British Isles, namely, the common juniper (Juniperus communis), which cannot aspire to rank among forest trees. Agriculture and mineral industry have extirpated it in many districts where it once abounded; but it is still a characteristic feature in the landscape on some of the English chalk downs, in East Anglia, the Scottish Highlands, western Ireland, and other places where it has been allowed to survive. Near Capenoch, in Dumfriesshire, there remains a broad hillside thickly covered with juniper, which seems to have been the chief growth there from immemorial time.
MONTEREY CYPRESS (Cupressus macrocarpa)At Wakehurst Place
Tenderly as we should regard the juniper as a legacy from a bygone age, reminiscent of a scenery now no more, it has no qualities to recommend it for planting where it does not naturally grow, but the cypress group to which it belongs contains many foreign species which are capable of being turned to great advantage by British foresters. Although this group has been classified by botanists under a number of distinct genera, whereof the nomenclature has been repeatedly changed in a manner perplexing to ordinary persons, one valuable quality distinguishes all of them, namely, the durability of the timber they produce. It is recorded that the doors of the original basilica of St. Peter at Rome, erected in the fourth century, were of Mediterranean cypress (C. sempervirens), and that they were perfectly sound when that building was destroyed to make way for the present church in the sixteenth century.
It is not possible to trace to its source the association of this tree with human mortality. That it was so associated in Pagan civilisation may be seen from Horace's pathetic poem:
Neque harum quas colis arborumTe præter invisas cupressusUlla brevem dominum sequetur.[25]
The Mediterranean cypress is only hardy in the mildest parts of the United Kingdom, and is thereforenot suitable for general planting;[26]but it has many relatives worthy of earnest attention from our foresters. About forty years ago the late Mr. Peter Lawson, of the Goldenacre Nurseries, Edinburgh, told me he expected that the AmericanThuja lobbi(as it was then called) was destined to surpass all other conifers for British planting. The name of this tree has been repeatedly changed; perhaps it is most commonly known asThuja gigantea; but the Kew authorities have decreed of late that its right name isT. plicata. In British Columbia, Oregon, and Washington, where it is of more commercial importance than any other tree, except the Douglas fir, it is known as Red Cedar; which does not help much towards identification, as it is quite distinct from any true cedar. In its native forests it soars to a stature of 200 feet; and, although not brought to this country until 1853, has already reached a height of 100 feet in some places. The most striking example known to me of its behaviour under forest treatment in this country is at Benmore, on the Holy Loch, where about 2,000 acres were planted in successive seasons, 1871-78, and consist now chiefly of this Thuja and Douglas Fir. It is a tree most easily raised from seed, which it produces freely in this country, and it is most easily handled in the nursery. About twelve years ago I raised about 70,000 from15s. worth of seed; but the bulk of these, having been planted on low-lying, damp ground, succumbed to severe spring frost; while the remainder, planted on higher dry ground, now average 20 feet high. Of the timber, Professor Sargent, the leading authority on North American forestry, reports: "The wood is very valuable; it is light, soft, easily worked, and so durable in contact with the ground or when exposed to the elements, that no one has ever known it long enough to see it decay." Mr. Elwes has given a remarkable photograph of a western hemlock spruce (Tsuga mertensiana) at least one hundred years old, growing astride of an enormous trunk of Thuja, which is still quite hard and sound (Trees of Great Britain, vol. i., plate 59). I feel convinced that when the fine qualities of this tree are better known, it will largely replace European larch in our woodlands.
DECIDUOUS CYPRESS (Taxodium distichum)At Syon
Of the true cypresses there are four North American species likely to prove of high value in the United Kingdom; but in regard to them, it is of the highest importance to use only plants raised from seed. Unluckily, they all strike readily from cuttings, and many of us have formed a poor opinion of these trees from being supplied with plants propagated in that manner, which never can develop their true character, but grow into unwieldy, branchy bushes. Lawson's cypress (Cupressus lawsoniana) has specially suffered in esteem from this cause; but when reared from seed, which is an easy process, it makes fine forest stock, provided attention is paid to removing superfluous leaders till the young trees are 7 or 8 feet high.
Sargent states that this cypress (which is named after Mr. Peter Lawson, who first raised it from seed in this country in 1854) often reaches a height of 200 feet, with a girth of 36 feet. It agrees thoroughly with British conditions of soil and climate; there are many in various parts of the United Kingdom from 60 to 70 feet high. The timber is of finer quality than that ofThuja, and equally durable; but in Professor Sargent's opinion the Nootka Sound cypress (C. nootkatensis) is a more valuable tree, though slower in growth and inferior in bulk to the Lawson. While the Lawson cypress agrees with a considerable amount of moisture in the soil, provided the drainage is good, the Nootka cypress seems to do best on soil too poor and dry for the other. Both species are impatient of overhead shade and extreme wind exposure, but both are perfectly hardy and very beautiful when grown in reasonable shelter from storms.
Most rapid in growth of all the cypress tribe is the Monterey cypress (C. macrocarpa), but it can only be recommended for mild districts near the sea. It will not stand the frost in most inland districts, but those which I have growing within a mile or two of the coast came unhurt through the long and terrible frost of January and February, 1895, when the mercury fell below zero. This tree is remarkable by reason of its being found native only in two places, both in California, at Monterey, and on the island of Guadalupe. In neither place does it extend much beyond an area of three square miles. In maritimedistricts of the United Kingdom it grows most vigorously, and ripens seed freely, forming a splendid shelter for other trees. But its branch growth is so luxuriant as to be apt to outstrip the root system; wherefore, to prevent young plants getting swung by sea winds, it is well to shorten the branches till the trees are well established.
The Monterey cypress is of a beautiful bright green, and forms a lovely hedge, for which purpose it may be propagated to any extent by cuttings; but for forest purposes seedlings should invariably be used. Mr. Elwes pronounces the timber "to be so coarse and knotty as compared with that of other cypresses, that it is not likely to be of any economic value"; but that is owing to the manner in which it is usually grown in this country, as isolated specimens, which encourages a rampant growth of side branches. Reared in close canopy, it develops fine clean boles, and Proffessor Sargent reports the timber as being "heavy, hard, strong, very durable, close grained." It is indeed surprising how wood of that weight and quality can be so rapidly produced. In its own country, exposed to the full blast of Pacific gales, it appears never to exceed 60 or 70 feet in height; but there are already in the United Kingdom many taller than that, though the seeds were not brought to this country till 1838. Probably the largest Monterey cypress in England is one at Lamorran in Cornwall, which in 1905 gave a height of 86 feet, and a girth of 12½ feet.
No notice of theCupressineæ, however succinct,would be complete without mention of what is called in North America the incense cedar (Libocedrus decurrens), though it is of small account as a timber producer. Of all the group it lends itself most conspicuously to landscape effect, retaining its close, columnar figure quite independently of shears or side shade and distinguished by its rich, velvety, dark green foliage. It was not brought to Britain till 1853, yet there are with us many specimens over 60 feet high. Again let me warn those desiring to see the true character of this fine tree to have nothing to do with plants reared from cuttings.
The same applies to an Asiatic member of this group, namely, the Hinoki cypress (C. obtusa), so highly prized by the Japanese for its beautiful, satiny timber. It grows to a height of 100 feet in Japan, where it is much planted, being indigenous in the central and southern parts of the main island. It was brought to England in 1861. I have raised a quantity from seed, and it has proved quite hardy; but its growth is not nearly so free as that of the above-named American species, and it cannot be said that it is likely to be a profitable forest growth with us. It is, however, a very pretty tree in its youth.
In the vegetable world stature and bulk afford no index to longevity. The lofty pine may be but a stripling in years compared with the lowly lichen that clings like paint to the rock at its foot. One may be able to calculate pretty nearly the age of yonder massive oak; yet before the acorn whence it sprang had ripened, the primrose in its shade may have brightened many springtides with its blossoms.
Howbeit there are certain forest growths that go on adding indefinitely to their bulk during such vast spaces of time as almost to stagger the imagination. The man who can contemplate unmoved a tree, still growing vigorously, which was flourishing when Aaron's rod budded before Pharaoh must be of sterner stuff than most of us; yet such trees may be seen, if the German botanist Mayr's estimate be correct of the age of the largest Wellingtonia which he measured. This giant at 13 feet above the ground was 99 feet in circumference, 11 yards in diameter, and showed4250 rings of annual growth. Even if Sir Joseph Hooker's cautious view be adopted that this species of tree may make two rings of growth in each year, that carries one back to a time centuries before our country became a province of the Roman Empire.
When seeds of this giant tree were first brought to England by Mr. J. D. Matthew in 1853, we Britons named itWellingtoniain pious memory of the Iron Duke, who had breathed his last in the previous year, and that is still the name it goes by popularly with us. Americans, not less patriotically, called itWashingtonia; but we are now bidden by botanists to speak of it asSequoia, a genus of conifers composed of only two species.Sequoia gigantea, then, is the mightiest of evergreens, for although the other species, the Redwood (S. sempervirens), may exceed it in stature, ranging to a height of 340 feet, it does not build up such an enormous trunk. The largest Redwood measured by Dr. Mayr in 1885 was 308 feet high, but not more than 46 feet in girth at 6½ feet from the ground. Its bole was clear of branches to a height of 230 feet. It may enable readers to realise these vast dimensions if they bear in mind that Messrs. Elwes and Henry have not found a tree of any kind in the British Isles 150 feet high, except the great black Italian poplar at Albury Park, and here and there a larch and spruce reaching to that stature.
Sixty years' experience has proved to British planters that, given suitably generous soil and adequate shelter, the Wellingtonia can be grown in theseislands as successfully as in its native district, to wit, the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada of California between the altitudes of 5,000 and 8,500 feet. Indeed, there is no reason to doubt that, in sheltered glens and river valleys, it is capable of attaining in the Old World dimensions as great as those it has reached in the New. Owing to the ease with which they can be raised from seed, Wellingtonias have been very widely distributed through British and Irish counties, and there are already many of 100 feet and upwards in height—an astonishing growth for less than half a century. Thus a Wellingtonia at Fonthill, which is known to have been raised from seed in 1861, was 102 feet high in 1906, with a girth of 17 feet, being then only 45 years old. This tree stands in a favourably sheltered hollow, and so does one of the tallest I have seen in this country, namely, one at Albury Park, which stands on the brink of the lucid Tillingbourne. This tree, planted in 1857, was 54 feet high in 1879, and 97 feet in 1913.
It is obvious that, under ordinary conditions, the Wellingtonia in this country must outstrip all surrounding trees of other sorts, and suffer from wind exposure, unless planted in close forest of its own kind. It must be confessed that he would be ill-advised who should devote good land to such a crop, for the timber of Wellingtonia, though very durable, is weak, coarse, and quite unsaleable in the European market. Unhappily, the inferiority of the timber has not protected the trees from the reckless destruction of the beautiful forest by lumberers. Huge treeshave been felled which, in falling, have smashed many others; fires have been frequent, and it is not unlikely that this, the mightiest of all green things of the earth, would have been exterminated ere this, but for protective State legislation. "Big Tree wood," says Professor Jepson, "has extraordinary durability, fallen logs in the forest having remained sound for several centuries. It is used for posts, farm-buildings, shingles, raisin-trays, and for stakes in vineyards. It seems unfortunate that timber of such magnificent proportions cannot be applied to larger purposes than grape-vine stakes."[27]Professor Jepson undertook a census of the remaining forest; from the list published in hisSilva of Californiait appears that there are still scattered groves over an area of some 38,000 acres, although in one of these groves there are only six trees left, while some others contain no more than from 30 to 150. In twenty-two groves, however, the trees were so numerous that they were not counted.
Seeing that British planters must not look for any profit from the timber which is so liberally produced by the Wellingtonia, there remain only its decorative qualities to recommend it. These are considerable, provided right advantage be taken of them. Isolated specimens in sheltered places grow into majestic objects with broadly buttressed trunks and dense green curtains of leafage; but perhaps the most impressive effects are obtained by setting Wellingtonia in formal avenues. Such an avenuewas planted by the late Mr. Walter of Bearwood at Wellington College in 1869. This avenue is 1,200 yards long and 25 yards broad; the trees were planted 54 feet apart, and as they now average 80 feet high, and are clothed with verdure from the ground to the summit, the effect is very stately and impressive.
Turning now to the other species in this genus—the Redwood (Sequoia sempervirens), we have a tree equalling, or even excelling, the Wellingtonia in height, and greatly its superior both in beauty and economic value. Originally this splendid tree occupied a far more extensive area in California and Oregon than the Wellingtonia; but lumberers have swept away great tracts of forest. In one respect the Redwood resists extermination better than any other of its kin, being almost, if not quite, unique among conifers (the yew being no longer classed as a conifer) in sending up suckers profusely, which secures natural regeneration after the parent trees have been felled.
The Redwood Park in California is a tract of forest 3,800 acres in extent which the State Legislature secured at a price of 250,000 dollars in order to preserve the forest in perpetuity.
"It is," says Mr. Elwes inThe Trees of Great Britain, "the most impressive of all forests, being remarkable not only for the immense size of the trees, but also for their extraordinary density on the ground. A single acre has yielded 100,000 cubic feet of merchantable timber.[28]... I saw a stand close to Smith River where the trees were of enormous size and of incredible density on the ground. One tree measured 51 feet in girth."
"It is," says Mr. Elwes inThe Trees of Great Britain, "the most impressive of all forests, being remarkable not only for the immense size of the trees, but also for their extraordinary density on the ground. A single acre has yielded 100,000 cubic feet of merchantable timber.[28]... I saw a stand close to Smith River where the trees were of enormous size and of incredible density on the ground. One tree measured 51 feet in girth."
The Redwood was first introduced to Great Britain about 1847, and has proved fairly hardy if protected from frost in the seedling stage. It is, however, impatient of wind exposure, and seldom displays its best qualities unless planted in close forest. In suitable environment this tree develops into one of the most beautiful trees imaginable, owing to its stately habit, deeply fissured bark of a rich russet hue, and luxuriant, glossy foliage.
Three Redwoods were planted in a glen at Cuffnells, near Lyndhurst, in 1855; these measured in 1906 from 98 to 105 feet high, with girths from 10 to 15 feet. This shows an average annual increase of height of 2 feet over a period of fifty years, which is far in excess of any other tree grown in the British Isles, not excepting the Wellingtonia. The consequence is that, as the Redwood has nowhere been planted in extensive masses, the leaders are peculiarly liable to be destroyed by high cold winds. Moreover, the quality of the timber produced in Great Britain cannot be rightly estimated until the trees shall have been subjected to close forest treatment, for in isolated specimens the texture of the wood is spoilt by excessive width between the annual rings.
Having regard to the value of Redwood timber exported from America, and the rapidity with which it is developed, this species is well worth attention from any person or corporation planting on a large scale in a sufficiently humid climate, for it is to be noted that it is very impatient of drought. The Redwood Belt, extending from Sonoma County toDel Norte County, enjoys an average annual rainfall of 50 inches. Much less than that will serve the tree in the British Isles, owing to the sun being far less powerful over here than it is in California. Propagation is done from suckers, for, as is the case with some other trees—the English elm, for instance—the production of fertile seed is diminished or disappears with the acquirement of the suckering habit.
It has been claimed for the Redwood that it is the tallest growth in the world; but Australians dispute its title to that distinction on behalf ofEucalyptus amygdalina. The data for a verdict are as follows: In 1896 Professor Sargent measured a Redwood felled on the Eel River, and found it to be 340 feet high and 31 feet 3 inches in girth at 6½ feet from the ground. The rings of annual growth numbered 662. On the other hand, the height of two fallen eucalyptus have been recorded as 420 and 471 feet (the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral is 404 feet high); but Mr. Malden, Director of Sydney Botanic Garden, has declined to receive these measurements as trustworthy. It is very much to be desired that the truth should be ascertained before it be too late.
Not far in kin from the Redwood is the Western Hemlock (Tsuga albertiana), not to be confused (as it often has been by nurserymen and planters) with the Canadian Hemlock (T. canadensis), which is a tree of very inferior beauty and merit to the other. The Western Hemlock forms splendid forests in British Columbia, Washington and Oregon, attaining its greatest dimensions near the sea-coast, whereProfessor Sargent has recorded specimens 200 feet high and 20 or 30 feet in girth. Introduced to Great Britain by Jeffrey in 1851, it has proved itself contented with our climate, and is certainly one of the loveliest of exotic conifers. There are now many specimens in the United Kingdom measuring from 70 to 100 feet high. It is frost-hardy; but, to develop its true grace, must have shelter from wind exposure. Sargent reports very favourably of the timber, which is said to be disliked by rats and mice; but it does not seem to have been imported into Europe. Seed is plentifully produced, wherefore there is no excuse for the nefarious trick of reproduction by cuttings.
GINGKO BILOBAAt the Grove, Watford
The Gingko or Maidenhair-tree (Gingko biloba) is among the most interesting of trees, owing to its being, like the Araucaria, a survival of the vegetation prevailing when the aspect of our globe was very different from that which it bears now. Both Gingko and Araucaria were classed as conifers by the older botanists; but certain archaic features in each have been recognised as justifying their rearrangement in two separate natural orders.
The gingko has not been found anywhere in a wild state, and owes its preservation from an extremely remote past to the care which the Chinese have always shown to preserve part of the natural forest round their temples. It is in such situations that it is now found in China, Corea, and Japan; but Dr. Henry suggests that it may not improbably exist in the unexplored forests of central China.
The true affinity of this strange tree is with the ferns and cycads, dominant orders in the Mesozoic world. It is, however, a true phanerogam or flowering plant, the male and female flowers being born on separate trees. The fruit and leaves found in theLias clay at Ardtun, in the Isle of Mull, have been pronounced indistinguishable from those of the existing species.[29]What a vast chasm of time divides us from the summers when these fruit and leaves were produced! Since they fell our land has been ploughed and scarred by the land ice of successive glacial periods, each enduring for unnumbered thousands of years; yet these fragile relics, drifting into clefts and crannies and overlaid by the clay which the ice ground out of the rocks, have survived the rocks themselves. And now the climate of these islands has been tempered again, so that the gingko finds a congenial home in our pleasure grounds.
It is a very beautiful tree, provided it is raised from seed, or, at least, propagated by layers. Unluckily, planters are very apt to be supplied with young trees reared from cuttings, which never turn out well, for seed is seldom produced in this country, owing to the different sexes not being planted together, and the rapidity with which imported seeds lose their vitality. The foliage is unlike that of any other tree grown in Great Britain, the leathery, light green, fan-shaped leaves suggesting the design of a gigantic maidenhair fern, whence it used to be known botanicallyasSalisburia adiantifolia. The foliage turns a beautiful clear yellow in autumn.
The first European botanist to mention the gingko was Kæmpfer, who found it in Japan in 1690, but it was not introduced to England until more than sixty years later. In Scotland it does not seem to have been often planted, though it is quite hardy in the milder districts. The only considerable specimen I have seen north of the Tweed was one 40 or 50 feet high on the banks of the Ayr at Auchincruive. This was blown down some years ago, but when I saw it last it was growing vigorously from the stool.
There are many fine gingkos in England. The finest known to me are at The Grove, near Watford, 68 feet high, with a girth of 8 feet 5 inches in 1904 (see plate atpage 228). One at Panshanger, in the same county, of which I did not measure the height, was reported to be 70 feet, and I found the girth to be 8 feet. Both of these are most graceful, vigorous trees, but they must yield in stature to one at Melbury House, near Dorchester, which has reached a height of more than 80 feet. No tree-lover who has seen such fine examples as these can fail to regret that more frequent use has not been made of the gingko in ornamental planting. That is its proper function with us, for the timber is of no more than mediocre quality.
Many fine gingkos may be seen in the Loire valley, at Geneva, and in northern Italy; but nowhere have I been so much impressed with their decorative qualities as in the beautiful city of Washington,where they have been planted in a long avenue along one of the principal streets. True, they have not yet attained a great stature—from 30 to 40 feet are the tallest—but their verdure is most refreshing in that sun-baked capital, and it is easy to imagine what they may become at their present free rate of growth.
The gingko is particularly well suited for a town atmosphere. In the most malodorous part of evil-smelling Brentford, close to a brewery and opposite a huge gaswork, stands the wreck of a fine one. Jammed in between grimy buildings, it has lost its top, but each spring it still hangs out its fairy leafage over the dingy thoroughfare.
AVENUE OF ARAUCARIA IMBRICATAAt Castle Kennedy, Wigtownshire
Very different in habit and appearance from the lightsome gingko is the araucaria or puzzle monkey, but, like the former, it is a survival of the vegetation that flourished in the carboniferous era, when it had to compete with giant ferns, cycads, and horse-tails, and attained its utmost development in the Jurassic landscape. Of the ten known species of araucaria, all indigenous only in the southern hemisphere, only one is hardy in Great Britain—A. imbricata—which forms forests on the mountains of southern Chile.
This tree was first brought to England in 1795 by Archibald Menzies, who, visiting Chile with Captain Vancouver, sowed some araucaria nuts on board ship and brought home six live seedlings. It was not till 1844, however, that any fresh supply of seeds reached this country, when William Lobb, collecting for the firm of Veitch, secured a large quantity. The quaint character of the tree, the readiness with which the seeds germinated, and its thorough adaptation to British soil and climate soon caused it to be widely distributed, so that at this day there isno tree with which people are more familiar than the puzzle monkey. At the same time, there is no tree which has suffered so much from injudicious planting among inappropriate surroundings. It is a creature demanding broad light and free, pure air; and I know of no more dismal object in the world of plants than an araucaria stuck down in front of a suburban villa, stifled with smoky deposit, retaining a despairing grip of life, whereof the only visible sign is the green tips of its poor blackened branches. It is treatment such as this which has caused the araucaria to lose favour with British planters. To realise what this tree is capable of in our hands, one has but to visit the Earl of Stair's grounds at Castle-Kennedy and stroll down a wide grassy avenue, two hundred yards in length, bordered on either side by araucarias over 50 feet high (see plate atpage 232).
Effective in a different fashion must be the araucaria grove at Beauport, Sussex, which I have not seen. Here a number of these trees were planted about fifty years ago, and allowed to grow in forest canopy, the inner ones clearing their boles naturally. The largest of these, measured by Dr. Henry in 1904, was 74 feet high, with a girth of 7 feet 9 inches.
ARAUCARIA IMBRICATAMale Flower
ARAUCARIA IMBRICATAFemale Flower
Again another effect. On the west shore of Loch Fyne, united to the mainland by a narrow neck of shingle, is Barmore Island, a grassy, rocky pile, treeless save for a solitary araucaria which some freakish hand has planted many years ago high on the northern slope. The impression received from this lonely foreigner is very enduring. (Let me not be misunderstood.I do not mean the physical impression, which would be distinctly disagreeable; but the mental one, which is most pleasing.)
Araucaria timber is said to be like good deal, but smoother and heavier. Like most primitive types of vegetation, the trees are of separate sexes, though exceptionally a tree may be found bearing male and female flowers. The male inflorescence is like a large, brown, pendant catkin, 4 or 5 inches long; the huge female cones take two years to ripen, when they open, and each discharges 200 or 300 large seeds, 1 to 1½ inch long. These seeds are freely produced in nearly all parts of Britain; self-sown seedlings spring up where the undergrowth permits them; and as an article of food the kernels are not to be despised when cooked as chestnuts.
The araucaria is one of many South Chilian plants which relish the climate of western Britain and Ireland. The character of climate in these widely-separated regions is curiously similar, though from diametrically opposite causes. In Chile abundant moisture arises from the afflux of a cold ocean current upon a warm coast; in the British Isles a warm ocean current flows upon the colder land.