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S Y L V A
_OR A DISCOURSE OF FOREST
TREES_: BY JOHN EVELYN F.R.S.
_WITH AN ESSAY ON THE LIFE
AND WORKS OF THE AUTHOR_
BY JOHN NISBET D.OEc.
A REPRINT OF THE FOURTH
EDITION IN TWO VOLUMES
VOLUME ONE
LONDON: PUBLISHED BY ARTHUR
DOUBLEDAY & COMPANY LIMITED
AT 8 YORK BUILDINGS ADELPHI
CONTENTS.
VOLUME I.
Introduction page ix
Title Page of 4th Edition " lxxiii
To the King " lxxv
To the Reader " lxxvii
Advertisement " xcix
Books published by the Author " ci
Amico carissimo " cii
Nobilissimo Viro " ciii
+EIS TÊN TOU PATROS DENDROLOGIAN+ " cvi
The Garden.--To J. Evelyn, Esq. " cvii
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I. Of the Earth, Soil, Seed, Air, and Water " 1
" II. Of the Seminary and of Transplanting " 12
" III. Of the Oak " 30
" IV. Of the Elm " 62
" V. Of the Beech " 75
" VI. Of the Horn-beam " 81
" VII. Of the Ash " 86
" VIII. Of the Chesnut " 94
" IX. Of the Wallnut " 101
" X. Of the Service, and black cherry-tree " 111
" XI. Of the Maple " 115
" XII. Of the Sycomor " 121
" XIII. Of the Lime-Tree " 122
" XIV. Of the Poplar, Aspen, and Abele " 128
" XV. Of the Quick-Beam " 134
" XVI. Of the Hasel " 136
" XVII. Of the Birch " 140
" XVIII. Of the Alder " 155
" XIX. Of the Withy, Sallow, Ozier, and Willow " 159
" XX. Of Fences, Quick-sets, &c. " 175
BOOK II.
CHAPTER I. Of the Mulberry " 203
" II. Of the Platanus, Lotus, Cornus, Acacia, &c. " 214
" III. Of the Fir, Pine, Pinaster, Pitch-tree,
Larsh, and Subterranean trees " 220
" IV. Of the Cedar, Juniper, Cypress, Savine,
Thuya, &c. " 253
" V. Of the Cork, Ilex, Alaternus, Celastrus,
Ligustrum, Philyrea, Myrtil, Lentiscus,
Olive, Granade, Syring, Jasmine and other
Exoticks " 282
" VI. Of the Arbutus, Box, Yew, Holly, Pyracanth,
Laurel, Bay, &c. " 293
" VII. Of the infirmities of trees, &c. " 314
VOLUME II.
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I. Of Copp'ces page 1
" II. Of Pruning " 8
" III. Of the Age, Stature, and Felling of Trees " 24
" IV. Of Timber, the Seasoning and Uses, and of Fuel " 80
" V. Aphorisms, or certain General Precepts of use
to the foregoing Chapters " 130
" VI. Of the Laws and Statutes for the Preservation
and Improvement of Woods and Forests " 138
" VII. The paraenesis and conclusion, containing
some encouragements and proposals for the
planting and improvement of his Majesty's
forests, and other amunities for shade,
and ornament " 157
BOOK IV.
An historical account of the sacredness and use
of standing groves, &c. " 205
Renati Rapini " 269
INTRODUCTION.
I
_Evelyn & his literary contemporaries Isaac Walton & Samuel Pepys._
Among the prose writers of the second half of the seventeenth century
John Evelyn holds a very distinguished position. The age of the
Restoration and the Revolution is indeed rich in many names that have
won for themselves an enduring place in the history of English
literature. South, Tillotson, and Barrow among theologians, Newton in
mathematical science, Locke and Bentley in philosophy and classical
learning, Clarendon and Burnet in history, L'Estrange, Butler, Marvell
and Dryden in miscellaneous prose, and Temple as an essayist, have all
made their mark by prose writings which will endure for all time. But
the names which stand out most prominently in popular estimation as
authors of great masterpieces in the prose of this period are certainly
those of John Bunyan, John Evelyn, and Izaak Walton. And along with them
Samuel Pepys is also well entitled to be ranked as a great contemporary
writer, though he was at pains to try and ensure his being permitted to
remain free from the publicity of authorship, for such time at least as
the curious might allow his Diary to remain hidden in the cipher he
employed.
With the great though untrained genius of Bunyan none of these other
three celebrated prose authors of this time has anything in common. He
stands apart from them in his fervently religious and romantic
temperament, in his richness of representation and ingenuity of
analogy, and in his forcible quaintness of style, as completely as he
did in social status and in personal surroundings. In complete contrast
to the romantic productions of the self-educated tinker of Bedford, the
works of Walton and Evelyn were at any rate influenced by, though they
can hardly be said to have been moulded upon, the style of the preceding
age of old English prose writers ending with Milton. The influence of
the latter is, indeed, plainly noticeable both in the diction and in the
general sentiment of these two great masters of the pure, nervous
English of their period.
It would serve no good purpose to make any attempt here to trace the
points of resemblance between the works of Walton and Evelyn, and then
to note their differences in style. Each has contributed a masterpiece
towards our national literature, and it would be a mere waste of time to
make comparisons between their chief productions. This much, however,
may be remarked, that the conditions under which each worked were
completely different from those surrounding the other. Izaak Walton, the
author of many singularly interesting biographies, and of the quaint
half-poetical _Compleat Angler or the Contemplative Man's Recreation_,
the great classic "Discourse of Fish and Fishing," was a London
tradesman, while his equally celebrated contemporary John Evelyn, author
of _Sylva, or a Discourse of Forest Trees_, the classic of British
Forestry, was a more highly cultured man, who wrote, in the leisure of
official duties and amid the surroundings of easy refinement, many
useful and tasteful works both in prose and poetry, ranging over a wide
variety of subjects. Judging from the number of editions which appeared
of their principal works, they were both held in great favour by the
reading public, though on the whole the advantage in some respects lay
with Evelyn. But during the present century the taste of the public,
judged by this same rough and ready, practical standard, has undoubtedly
awarded the prize of popularity to Izaac Walton.
So far as the circumstances of their early life were concerned there was
greater similarity between Walton and Pepys, than between either of them
and Evelyn. Born in the lower middle class, the son of a tailor in
London, and himself afterwards a member of the Clothworkers' guild,
Pepys was a true Londoner. His tastes were centred entirely in the town,
and his pleasures were never sought either among woods or green fields,
or by the banks of trout streams and rivers. His thoughts seem often
tainted with the fumes of the wine-bowl and the reek of the tavern; and
even when he swore off drink, as he frequently did, he soon relapsed
into his customary habits. Educated in London and then at Cambridge,
where his love of a too flowing bowl already got him into trouble more
than once, he was imprudent enough to incur the responsibilities of
matrimony at the early age of twenty-three, with a beautiful girl only
fifteen years old. Trouble soon stared this rash and improvident young
couple in the face, but they were spared the pangs of permanent poverty
through the aid and influence of Sir Edward Montagu, afterwards Earl of
Sandwich, who was a distant relative of Pepys. Acting probably as
Montagu's secretary for some time, he was first appointed to a clerkship
in the Army pay office, and then soon afterwards became clerk of the
Acts of the Navy. Later on, like Evelyn, he held various more important
posts under the Crown, as well as being greatly distinguished by
promotion to non-official positions of the highest honour. His official
career was a very brilliant one, and deservedly so from the integrity of
his work, from his application, despite frequent immoderation in
partaking of wine, and from his business-like methods of work. As
Commissioner for the Affairs of Tangier and Treasurer, he visited
Tangier officially. He twice became Secretary to the Admiralty, and was
twice elected to represent Harwich in Parliament, after having
previously sat for Castle Rising. He was also twice chosen as Master of
the Trinity House, and was twice committed to prison, once on a charge
of high treason, and the other time (1690) on the charge of being
affected to King James II., upon whose flight from England Pepys had
laid down his office and withdrawn himself into retirement. Elected a
Fellow of the Royal Society in 1665, he attained the distinction of
being its President in 1684. He was Master of the Clothworkers' Company,
Treasurer and Vice-President of Christ's Hospital, and one of the Barons
of the Cinque Ports. In 1699, four years before he succumbed to a long
and painful disease borne with fortitude under the depression of reduced
circumstances, he received the freedom of the City of London,
principally for his services in connection with Christ's Hospital.
From the hasty sketch drafted in the above outlines, it will be seen
that throughout all Pepys' manhood the circumstances of his daily life
and environment were much more similar to those of Evelyn than to those
of Walton, who may well be ranked as their senior by almost one
generation. Like Evelyn, Izaak Walton was rather the child of the
country than a boy of the town. Born in Stafford in 1593, he only came
to settle in London after he had attained early manhood. Thus, though a
citizen exposing his linen drapery and mens' millinery for sale first in
the Gresham Exchange on the Cornhill, then in Fleet Street, and latterly
in Chancery Lane, the Bond Street of that time, he ever cherished a
longing for more rural surroundings and a desire to exchange life in the
city for residence in a smaller provincial town. On the civil war
breaking out in Charles the Ist's time, he retired from business and
went to live near his birth place, Stafford, where he had previously
bought some land. Here the last forty years of his long life were spent
in ease and recreation. When not angling or visiting friends, mostly
brethren of the angle, he engaged in the light literary work of
compiling biographies and in collecting material for the enrichment of
his _Compleat Angler_. Published in 1653, this ran through five editions
in 23 years, besides a reprint in 1664 of the third edition (1661).
In spite of the many similarities between Evelyn and Pepys as to
university education, official position, political partisanship, and
social and scientific status in London, there are yet such essential
differences between what has been bequeathed to us by these two friends
that comparison between them is almost impossible. They are both
authors: but it was by chance rather than by design that Pepys
ultimately acquired repute as an author, whereas Evelyn at once achieved
the literary fame he desired and wrote for. Neither of the two works
published by Pepys, _The Portugal History_ (1677) and the _Memories of
the Royal Navy_ (1690), procured for him the gratification of revising
them for a second edition, and it is indeed open to question if the
_Diary_ upon which his undying fame rests was ever intended by him to be
published after his death. This is a point that is never likely to be
settled satisfactorily. The fact of its having been written in cipher
looks as if it had been compiled solely for private amusement, and not
with any intention of posthumous publication; and this view is greatly
strengthened by the unblushing and complete manner in which he lays
aside the mask of outward propriety and records his too frequent
quaffing of the wine-cup, his household bickerings, his improprieties
with fair women, and his graver conjugal infidelities. The improprieties
of other persons, and especially those of higher social rank than
himself, might very intelligibly have been written in cipher intended to
have been transcribed and printed after his death; but it would be at
variance with human nature to believe that he could so unreservedly have
reduced to writing all the faults and follies of his life had even
posthumous publication of his _Diary_ been contemplated by him at the
time of writing it. For it is hardly capable of argument that, next to
the instincts of self-preservation and of the maintenance of family
ties, the desire to preserve outward appearances is undoubtedly one of
the strongest of human feelings; and this great natural law, often the
last remnant or the substitute of conscience, character, and
self-respect, is even more fully operative in a highly civilised than in
a savage or a semi-savage state of society. Of a truth, every human
being is more or less of a Pharisee with regard to certain
conventionalities of life. Complete disregard for the maintenance of
some sort of standard of outward appearances is the absolute vanishing
point of self-respect. Till that has been reached by any individual the
hope of his reformation is not lost, though at the same time successful
dissimulation makes the prospect of a turning point in a vicious career
but remote. Still, "it is a long lane that has no turning." It is
therefore most probable that the leaving behind of the key to the cipher
was rather due to inadvertence than to intention and design. And if this
view be correct, then Pepys' charming _Diary_ was the purely natural
outpouring of his mind without ever a thought being bestowed on
authorship and ultimate publication.
With Evelyn's _Diary_, however, it was different. Although it was not
published until 1818, and though it may never have been intended by its
writer to have been given to the world in book form, yet it was very
clearly intended to be an autobiographical legacy to his family. Hence
it is no mere outpouring of the spirit upon pages meant only for the
subsequent perusal of him who thus rendered in indelible characters his
passing thoughts of the moment. And this being the case, comparison
between the two Diaries would be just as unfair as it is unnecessary.
The one is the fruit of unrestrained freedom and a mirthful mind, while
the other is the product of cultured leisure and a refined literary
method. When Evelyn was Commissioner for the maintenance of the Dutch
prisoners (1664-70) he had frequent communications with Pepys, then of
the Navy, and there are special references to him in Evelyn's memoirs.
That an intimate friendship existed there is no doubt, and that they
each held the other in great respect as a man of intellect, as well as
of good business capacity, is equally clear. Thus, in June, 1669, he
encouraged Pepys to be operated on 'when exceedingly afflicted with the
stone;' and on 19 February, 1671, 'This day din'd with me Mr. Surveyor,
Dr. Christopher Wren, and Mr. Pepys, Cleark of the Acts, two
extraordinary ingenious and knowing persons, and other friends. I
carried them to see the piece of carving which I had recommended to the
King.' This was a masterpiece of Grinling Gibbon's work, which Charles
admired but did not purchase; so Gibbon not long after sold it for £80,
though 'well worth £100, without the frame, to Sir George Viner.' Evelyn
at this time got Wren, however, to promise faithfully to employ Gibbon
to do the choir carving in the new St. Paul's Cathedral.
Each of their Diaries teems with reference to the other. Pepys asked
Evelyn to sit to Kneller for his portrait which he desired for 'reasons
I had (founded upon gratitude, affection, and esteeme) to covet that in
effigie which I most truly value in the original.' This refers to the
well-known portrait, now at Wotton, that has been copied and engraved.
It appears to have been begun in October, 1685, but it was not till
July, 1689, that the commission was actually completed. The portrait
exhibits the face of an elderly man distinctly of a high-strung and
nervous temperament, though not quite to the extent of being 'sicklied
oer with the pale caste of thought.' His right hand, too, which grasps
his _Sylva_ is one very characteristic of the nervous disposition. A
bright, shrewd intellect, lofty thoughts, high motives, good resolves,
and--last, tho' by no means least--a serene mind, the _mens conscia
recti_ which Pepys bluntly called 'a little conceitedness,' are all
stamped upon his well-marked and not unshapely features. It is eminently
the face of a philosopher, an enthusiast, a studious scholar, and a
gentleman.
No one can ever know Evelyn so well as Pepys did; and here is his
opinion of John Evelyn, expressed in the secret pages of his cipher
Diary on November, 1665:--'In fine, a most excellent person he is, and
must be allowed a little for a little conceitedness; but he may well be
so, being a man so much above others.' And this just exactly bears out
the rough general impression conveyed by the perusal of Evelyn's Diary
and his other literary works. The long friendship of these two was only
terminated by the death of Pepys on 26th May, 1703, not long before
Evelyn had himself to depart from this life. 'This day died Mr. Sam.
Pepys, a very courtly, industrious and curious person, none in England
exceeding him in knowledge of the navy, in which he had passed through
all the most considerable offices, Clerk of the Acts and Secretary of
the Admiralty, all which he performed with great integrity. When King
James II., went out of England, he laid down his office and would serve
no more..... He was universally belov'd, hospitable, generous, learned
in many things, skilled in music, a very great cherisher of learned men
of whom he had the conversation..... Mr. Pepys had been for near 40
yeares so much my particular friend, that Mr. Jackson sent me compleat
mourning, desiring me to be one to hold up the pall at his magnificient
obsequies, but my indisposition hinder'd me from doing him this last
office.'
II
_Evelyn's Childhood, Early Education, and Youth._
The essential facts of Evelyn's life, as he himself would have us know
them, are set forth at full length in autobiographical form,
chronologically arranged in what is always spoken of as his _Diary_,
although evidently this was (much of it, at any rate) merely a
subsequent personal compilation from an actual diary, kept in imitation
of his father, from the age of 11 years onwards and down even to within
one month of his death in 1706.
The second son and the fourth child of Richard Evelyn of Wotton in
Surrey, and of his wife Eleanor, daughter of John Stansfield 'of an
ancient honorable family (though now extinct) in Shropshire,' he was
born at Wotton on 31st. October, 1620. His father, 'was of a sanguine
complexion, mixed with a dash of choler; his haire inclining to light,
which tho' exceeding thick became hoary by the time he was 30 years of
age; it was somewhat curled towards the extremity; his beard, which he
wore a little picked, as the mode was, of a brownish colour, and so
continued to the last, save that it was somewhat mingled with grey
haires about his cheekes: which, with his countenance, was cleare, and
fresh colour'd, his eyes quick and piercing, an ample forehead, manly
aspect; low of stature, but very strong. He was for his life so exact
and temperate, that I have heard he had never been surprised by excesse,
being ascetic and sparing. His wisdom was greate, and judgment most
acute; of solid discourse, affable, humble and in nothing affected; of a
thriving, neat, silent and methodical genius; discretely severe, yet
liberal on all just occasions to his children, strangers, and servants;
a lover of hospitality; of a singular and Christian moderation in all
his actions; a Justice of the Peace and of the Quorum; he served his
country as High Sheriff for Surrey and Sussex together. He was a
studious decliner of honours and titles, being already in that esteem
with his country that they could have added little to him besides their
burden. He was a person of that rare conversation, that upon frequent
recollection, and calling to mind passages of his life and discourse, I
could never charge him with the least passion or inadvertence. His
estate was esteem'd about £4,000 per ann. well wooded and full of
timber.' As for his mother, 'She was of proper personage; of a brown
complexion; her eyes and haire of a lovely black; of constitution
inclyned to a religious melancholy, or pious sadnesse; of a rare memory
and most exemplary life; for oeconomie and prudence esteemed one of the
most conspicuous in her Country.'
Apparently John Evelyn thought he had made a very judicious choice of
his father and mother when he wrote 'Thus much in brief touching my
parents; nor was it reasonable I should speake lesse to them to whom I
owe so much.'
These passages, occurring in the first two pages of his _Diary_ serve at
once to illustrate a very characteristic feature of Evelyn's mind, and
one that is everywhere discernible in his writings. He was a man with a
highly cultured and a very well balanced mind, but he was somewhat
inclined to exaggerate; and he certainly had the rather enviable gift of
considering everything pertaining to him, or approved or advocated by
him, as very superior indeed. All his eggs had two yolks, and all his
geese were swans. What he liked, he _loved_; and what he did not like,
he _hated_. There was no golden mean with him; he was either very
optimistic or else intensely pessimistic. Hence, naturally, he gave hard
knocks to those who differed from him in opinion, and particularly after
the Restoration; for he was one of the most expressive among King
Charles II's courtiers. Direct evidence of this special temperament was
characteristic of Evelyn throughout all his life, and was of course
particularly noticeable in his writings, as we shall subsequently see.
It is therefore only to be expected that he prized his father's little
estate of Wotton in Surrey as one of the finest in the kingdom. 'Wotton,
the mansion house of my Father, left him by my Grandfather, (now my
eldest Brother's), is situated in the most Southern part of the Shire,
and though in a valley, yet really upon part of Lyth Hill one of the
most eminent in England for the prodigious prospect to be seen from its
summit, tho' of few observed. From it may be discerned 12 or 13
Counties, with part of the Sea on the Coast of Sussex, in a serene day.
The house is large and ancient, suitable to those hospitable times, and
so sweetly environed with those delicious streams and venerable woods,
as in the judgment of Strangers as well as Englishmen it may be compared
to one of the most tempting and pleasant Seats in the Nation, and most
tempting for a great person and a wanton purse to render it conspicuous.
It has rising grounds, meadows, woods, and water in abundance. The
distance from London (is) little more than 20 miles, and yet (it is) so
securely placed as if it were 100; three miles from Dorking, which
serves it abundantly with provisions as well of land as sea; 6 from
Guildford, 12 from Kingston. I will say nothing of the ayre, because the
praeeminence is universally given to Surrey, the soil being dry and
sandy: but I should speak much of the gardens, fountains, and groves
that adorne it, were they not as generally knowne to be amongst the most
natural, and (till this later and universal luxury of the whole nation,
since abounding in such expenses) the most magnificent that England
afforded, and which indeed gave one of the first examples to that
elegancy since so much in vogue, and followed in the managing of their
waters, and other ornaments of that nature. Let me add, the contiguity
of five or six Mannors, the patronage of the livings about it, and, what
is none of the least advantages, a good neighbourhood. All which
conspire to render it fit for the present possessor, my worthy Brother,
and his noble lady, whose constant liberality give them title both to
the place and the affections of all that know them. Thus, with the poet,
Nescio quâ natale solum dulcedine cunctos
Ducit, et im' emores non sinit esse sui!'
This is a very good specimen of Evelyn's style, for it shews the
optimistic quality which, along with refinement and a love of classical
quotations, is ever present in his writings. Lythe Hill, from the summit
of which the 'prodigious prospect' is so eminently belauded, attains a
height of less than a thousand feet above the sea-level.
At the early age of four John Evelyn was initiated into the rudiments
of education by one Frier, who taught children at the church porch of
Wotton; but soon after that he was sent to Lewes in Sussex, to be with
his grandfather Standsfield, while a plague was raging in London. There
he remained, after Standsfield's death in 1627, till 1630, when he was
sent to the free school at Southover near Lewes and kept there until he
went up to Balliol College, Oxford, as a fellow-commoner in 1637, being
then 16 years of age. It was his father's intention to have placed him
at Eton 'but I was so terrefied at the report of the severe discipline
there that I was sent back to Lewes, which perverseness of mine I have
since a thousand times deplored.' In that same year (1637) Evelyn had
the misfortune to lose his mother, then only in the 37th year of her
age. Having been 'extremely remisse' in his studies at school, he made
no great mark during his University career. His application was not
assiduous, while his tutor, Bradshaw, whom he disliked, was negligent;
and he appears to have been subject to frequent attacks of ague,
disposing him to casual recreation rather than to close study. He had
also apparently the desire to acquire a smattering of many different
things rather than to study hard at a few special subjects. 'I began to
look on the rudiments of musick, in which I afterwards arriv'd to some
formal knowledge though to small perfection of hand, because I was so
frequently diverted by inclinations to newer trifles.'
Completing his Oxford studies early in 1639, without taking any degree,
he went into residence at the Middle Temple in April, and soon arrived
at the conclusion that his 'being at the University in regard of these
avocations, was of very small benefit.' Here he and his brother lodged
in 'a very handsome apartment just over against the Halt Court, but four
payre of stayres high, which gave us the advantage of fairer prospect,
but did not much contribute to the love of that unpolish'd study, to
which (I suppose,) my Father had design'd me!' While thus a law student,
on 30th October, he saw 'his Majestie (coming from his Northern
Expedition) ride in pomp, and a kind of ovation, with all the markes of
a happy peace, restor'd to the affections of his people, being
conducted through London with a most splendid cavalcade; and on 3rd
November, following (a day never to be mentioned without a curse) to
that long, ungratefull, foolish, and fatall Parliament, the beginning of
all our sorrows for twenty years after, and the period of the most happy
Monarch in the world: _Quis talia fando!_'
In the closing days of 1640 Evelyn lost his father, when he abandoned
the study of the law and betook himself abroad in preference to being
mixed up in the disorders of the time. His resolutions were 'to absent
myselfe from this ill face of things at home, which gave umbrage to
wiser than myselfe, that the medaill was reversing, and our calamities
but yet in their infancy.' Shortly before that he had 'beheld on Tower
Hill the fatal stroake which sever'd the wisest head in England from the
shoulders of the Earl of Strafford.'
Landing at Flushing in July, 1641, Evelyn passed, accompanied by his
tutor Mr. Caryll, through Midelbrogh, Der Veer, Dort, Rotterdam, and
Delft, to the Hague, where he presented himself to the Queen of
Bohemia's Court. Thence he went on to Leyden, Utrecht, Rynen, and
Nimeguen, to where the Dutch army was encamped about Genep, a strong
fortress on the Wahale river. Here he enrolled himself and served for a
few days as a volunteer in the Queen's army 'according to the
compliment,' being attached to the English company of Captain Apsley:
and in this capacity he 'received many civilities.' Even when thus
playing at soldering, he did not like the roughness of a soldier's life,
'for the sun piercing the canvass of the tent, it was, during the day,
unsufferable, and at night not seldom infested with mists and fogs,
which ascended from the river.' However, during the few days he took his
fair share in the work. 'As the turn came about, I watched on a horne
work neere our quarters, and trailed a pike, being the next morning
relieved by a company of French. This was our continual duty till the
Castle was re-fortified, and all danger of quitting that station
secured.' Retracing his steps to Rotterdam, Delft, the Hague and Leyden,
he also visited Haerlem, Amsterdam, Antwerp, Brussels and various other
towns before returning by way of Ostend, Dunkirk and Dover to Wotton,
where he celebrated his 21st birthday.
Although his _Diary_ does not contain any details on such matters as
Pepys would have been free to record in his cipher, John Evelyn was
probably rather a gay and pleasure-loving youth about this time. A
suspicion of this seems justified by the fact that he 'was elected one
of the Comptrolers of the Middle Temple-revellers, as the fashion of ye
young Students and Gentlemen was, the Christmas being kept this year
(1641) with great solemnity; but being desirous to passe it in the
Country, I got leave to resign my staffe of office, and went with my
brother Richard to Wotton.' From January till March he was back in
London 'studying a little, but dancing and fooling more.'
III
_Evelyn's Early Manhood, Continental Travels and Studies, Voluntary
Exile, and Return to England 1647._
It was hardly possible that anyone situated as Evelyn was could hold
aloof from the party strife when civil war broke out during the course
of this year. And, of course, he was on the Royalist side. But he did
not serve long with the troops. Here is his own record of that military
service,--'Oct. 3rd. To Chichester, and hence the next day to see the
siege of Portsmouth; for now was that bloody difference betweene the
King and Parliament broken out, which ended in the fatal tragedy so many
years after. It was on the day of its being render'd to Sir William
Waller, which gave me an opportunity of taking my leave of Colonel
Goring the Governor, now embarqueing for France. This day was fought
that signal Battaile at Edgehill. Thence I went to Southampton and
Winchester, where I visited the Castle, Schole, Church, and King
Arthur's Round Table, but especially the Church, and its Saxon Kings'
Monuments, which I esteemed a worthy antiquity. 12th. November, was the
Battle of Braineford surprisingly fought, and to the greate
consternation of the Citty had his Majesty (as twas believed he would)
pursu'd his advantage. I came in with my horse and armes just at the
retreate, but was not permitted to stay longer than the 15th. by reason
of the Army's marching to Glocester, which would have left both me and
my brother expos'd to ruine, without any advantage to his Majestie. Dec.
7th. I went from Wotton to London to see the so much celebrated line of
com'unication, and on the 10th. returned to Wotton, nobody knowing of my
having been in his Majestie's Army.'
During the first half of 1643 Evelyn employed himself entirely in rural
occupations, visiting the garden and vineyard of Hatfield and similar
places. From time to time, however, he made many journeys to and from
London. What he sometimes saw there gave him much food for ample
reflection. 'May 2nd. I went from Wotton to London, where I saw the
furious and zelous people demolish that stately Crosse in Cheapside. On
the 4th. I returned with no little regrett for the confusion that
threatened us. Resolving to possess myself in some quiet if it might be,
in a time of so great jealosy, I built by my Brother's permission a
study, made a fishpond, an island, and some other solitudes and
retirements, at Wotton, which gave the first occasion of improving them
to those water-works and gardens which afterwards succeeded them, and
became at that tyme the most famous of England.' But, willy nilly, he
was bound to become dragged into action on the King's behalf. 'July
12th. I sent my black manege horse and furniture with a friend to his
Majestie then at Oxford. 23rd. The Covenant being pressed, I absented
myselfe; but finding it impossible to evade the doing very unhandsome
things, and which had been a greate cause of my perpetual motions
hitherto between Wotton and London, Oct. 2nd. I obtayned a lycence of
his Majestie, dated at Oxford and sign'd by the King, to travell
againe.' Accordingly, on 7th. November, he took boat at the Tower wharf
for Sittingbourne, 'being only a payre of oares, expos'd to a hideous
storm, thence posting to Dover accompanied by an Oxford friend, Mr.
Thicknesse, and crossing the Channel to Calais.'
Proceeding by Boulogne, Monstreuil, Abbeville, Beauvais, Beaumont, and
St. Denys to Paris, of which he gives a very interesting account, he
threw himself into the social life of that gay capital. His first step
was to make his duty to Sir Richard Browne, afterwards his
father-in-law, then in charge of British affairs pending the arrival of
the Earl of Norwich, who came immediately after that as Ambassador
Extraordinary. That Evelyn's purse was fairly well lined the Parisian
passages in his _Diary_ distinctly show. He appears to have taken part
in many gay excursions and junkettings, though he sometimes reckoned the
cost. 'At an inn in this village (St. Germains en Lay) is an host who
treats all the greate persons in princely lodgings for furniture and
plate, but they pay well for it, as I have don. Indeede the
entertainment is very splendid, and not unreasonable, considering the
excellent manner of dressing their meate, and of the service. Here are
many debauches and excessive revellings, as being out of all noise and
observance.' Wherever he visited the royal gardens and villas, or those
of the great nobles and other magnates, he writes rapturously of what he
saw. Sometimes, though, his joyous optimism rather leads one to doubt
the quality of his taste, as when, writing of Richelieu's villa at
Ruell, he says 'This leads to the Citroniere, which is a noble conserve
of all those rarities; and at the end of it is the Arch of Constantine,
painted on a wall in oyle, as large as the real one at Rome, so well don
that even a man skilled in painting may mistake it for stone and
sculpture. The skie and hills which seem to be between the arches are so
naturall that swallows and other birds, thinking to fly through, have
dashed themselves against the wall. I was infinitely taken with this
agreeable cheate.' But he was certainly gradually acquiring the
materials which were afterwards to be so well used by him in his great
works on gardening. After a tour made in Normandy with Sir John Cotton,
a Cambridgeshire knight, he quitted Paris in April, 1644. Marching
across by Chartres and Estamps to Orleans, the party of which he formed
one had an encounter with brigands, 'for no sooner were we entred two or
three leagues into ye Forest of Orleans (which extends itself many
miles), but the company behind us were set on by rogues, who, shooting
from ye hedges and frequent covert, slew fowre upon the spot... I had
greate cause to give God thankes for this escape.' Taking boat, he went
down the Loire to St. Dieu, and thence rode to Blois and on to Tours,
where he stayed till the autumn. 'Here I took a master of the language
and studied the tongue very diligently, recreating myself sometimes at
the maill, and sometymes about the towne.' Here, too, he paid his duty
to the Queen of England, 'having newly arrived, and going for Paris.' In
the latter part of September, still accompanied by his friend
Thicknesse, he left Tours and 'travelled towards the more southerne part
of France, minding now to shape my course so as I might winter in
Italy.' Journeying southward, partly by road and partly by river, he
visited Lyons, Avignon, and Marseilles, whither he wended his way
deliciously 'thro' a country sweetely declining to the South and
Mediterranean coasts, full of vineyards and olive-yards, orange-trees,
myrtils, pomegranads, and the like sweete plantations, to which belong
pleasantly-situated villas ...... as if they were so many heapes of snow
dropp'd out of the clouds amongst these perennial greenes.' Taking mules
to Cannes, he went by sea to Genoa 'having procur'd a bill of health
(without which there is no admission at any towne in Italy).' On
reaching 'Mongus, now cal'd Monaco' on the route, 'we were hastened
away, having no time permitted us by our avaricious master to go up and
see this strong and considerable place.'
On Oct. 16th., after 'much ado and greate perill' he landed on Italian
soil. He was fully prepared to have the most delicious pleasure in this
classical land, having already, even during the stormy weather off the
coast, 'smelt the peculiar joys of Italy in the perfumes of orange,
citron, and jassmine flowers for divers leagues seaward.'
It would be pleasant to ramble through Italy in Evelyn's company, and to
share with him the many enjoyments recorded in his _Diary_: but space
forbids. From Genoa he went to Leghorn and Pisa, from Pisa to Florence,
thence to Sienna, and on to Rome. 'I came to Rome on the 4th November,
1644, about 5 at night, and being perplexed for a convenient lodging,
wandered up and down on horseback, till at last one conducted us to
Monsieur Petits, a Frenchman, near the Piazza Spagnola. Here I alighted,
and having bargained with my host for 20 crownes a moneth, I caused a
good fire to be made in my chamber and went to bed, being so very wet.
The next morning (for I was resolved to spend no time idly here) I got
acquainted with several persons who had long lived at Rome.'
Evelyn's description of the interesting sights he saw in Rome is so good
that it might well be perused in place of modern guide-books by those
visiting the city. There is a delightful attractiveness about it, in
which these up-to-date works are sometimes wanting. But even his
youthful energy began to tire, and his keen appetite to become sated
with continuous sightseeing. After more than six months of it 'we now
determined to desist from visiting any more curiosities, except what
should happen to come in our way, when my companion Mr. Henshaw or
myself should go out to take the aire.' Then, however, as now for some
people, the crowning event of a visit to Rome was to receive the Papal
blessing. This Evelyn desired and obtained, although the event is not
recorded in his diary with any great enthusiasm. 'May, 4th. Having seen
the entrie of ye ambassador of Lucca, I went to the Vatican, where, by
favour of our Cardinal Protector, Frair Barberini, I was admitted into
the consistorie, heard the ambassador make his ovation in Latine to the
Pope, sitting on an elevated state or throne, and changing two
pontifical miters; after which I was presented to kisse his toe, that
is, his embroder'd slipper, two Cardinals holding up his vest and
surplice, and then being sufficiently bless'd with his thumb and two
fingers for that day, I return'd home to dinner.'
He quitted Rome about the middle of May after a sojourn there of seven
months, which had occasioned him so small an outlay that he remarked
thereon in his Diary. 'The bills of exchange I took up from my first
entering Italy till I went from Rome amounted but to 616 _ducanti di
banco_, though I purchas'd many books, pictures, and curiosities.' Going
northwards by Sienna, Leghorn, Lucca, Florence, Bologna, and Ferrara, he
reached Venice early in June. Arriving 'extreamly weary and beaten' with
the journey, he went and enjoyed the new luxury of a Turkish bath. 'This
bath did so open my pores that it cost me one of the greatest colds I
ever had in my life, for want of necessary caution in keeping myselfe
warme for some time after; for coming out, I immediately began to visit
the famous places of the city; and travellers who come in to Italy do
nothing but run up and down to see sights.'
Evelyn had the good fortune to see Venice _en fête_, and in those days
that must have been a sight well worth seeing. He saw the Doge espouse
the Adriatic by casting a gold ring into it on Ascension day with very
great pomp and ceremony. 'It was now Ascension Weeke, and the greate
mart or faire of ye whole yeare was kept, every body at liberty and
jollie. The noblemen stalking with their ladys on _choppines_; these are
high-heel'd shoes, particularly affected by these proude dames, or, as
some say, invented to keepe them at home, it being very difficult to
walke with them; whence one being asked how he liked the Venetian dames,
replied, they were _mezzo carne, mezzo ligno_, half flesh, half wood,
and he would have none of them. The truth is, their garb is very odd, as
seeming always in masquerade; their other habits also totaly different
from all nations.'
In Venice Evelyn made arrangements for visiting the Holy Land and parts
of Syria, Egypt, and Turkey; but they fell through owing to the vessel,
in which he would have sailed, being requisitioned to carry provisions
to Candia, then under attack from the Turks. Forced to abandon this
project, he remained in Venice 'being resolved to spend some moneths
here in study, especially physic and anatomie, of both which there was
now the most famous professors in Europe.' But in the autumn Mr.
Thicknesse, 'my dear friend, and till now my constant fellow traveller,'
was obliged to return to England on private affairs; so Evelyn was left
alone in Venice. Very shortly after that he had an illness which seems
to have at one time threatened a fatal termination. 'Using to drink my
wine cool'd with snow and ice, as the manner here is, I was so afflicted
with the angina and soare-throat, that it had almost cost me my life.
After all the remedies Cavalier Veslingius, cheife professor here, could
apply, old Salvatico (that famous physician) being call'd made me be
cupp'd and scarified in the back in foure places, which began to give me
breath, and consequently life, for I was in ye utmost danger: but God
being mercifull to me, I was after a fortnight abroad againe; when
changing my lodging I went over against Pozzo Pinto, where I bought for
winter provisions 3000 weight of excellent grapes, and pressed my owne
wine, which proved incomparable liquor.' Its goodness, indeed, seems to
have been the death of it. 'Oct. 31st. Being my birth-day, the nuns of
St. Catherine's sent me flowers of silk-work. We were very studious all
this winter till Christmas, when on twelfth day we invited all the
English and Scotts in towne to feast, which sunk our excellent wine
considerably.' In explanation of this passage, it needs to be said that
he had soon again changed his lodging and gone to reside with three
English friends 'neere St. Catherine's over against the monasterie of
nunnes, where we hired the whole house and lived very nobly. Here I
learned to play on ye theorbo, taught by Sig. Dominico Bassano.'
After 'the folly and madnesse of the Carnevall' was over, Evelyn left
Venice for Padua in January, 1646, but went back in March to take leave
of his friends there, and at Easter set out on his return journey to
England in company with the poet Waller, who had been glad to go abroad
after being much worried by the Puritan party. They travelled by way of
Vicenza, Verona, Brescia, Milan, the Lago Maggiore, the Simplon Pass,
Sion, and St. Maurice to Geneva. Here again Evelyn became sick nigh unto
death, from small-pox contracted at Beveretta, the night before reaching
Geneva. 'Being extremely weary and complaining of my head, and finding
little accommodation in the house, I caus'd one of our hostesses
daughters to be removed out of her bed and went immediately into it
whilst it was yet warme, being so heavy with pain and drowsinesse that I
would not stay to have the sheets chang'd; but I shortly after payd
dearly for my impatience, falling sick of the small-pox so soon as I
came to Geneva, for by the smell of frankincense and ye tale of ye good
woman told me of her daughter having had an ague, I afterwards concluded
she had been newly recovered of the small-pox.' Becoming very ill he was
bled of the physician 'a very learned old man..... He afterwards
acknowledg'd that he should not have bled me had he suspected ye
small-pox, which brake out a day after.' As nurse he had a Swiss matron
afflicted with gôitre, 'whose monstrous throat, when I sometimes awak'd
out of unquiet slumbers, would affright me.' But again he was spared for
the work he was destined to do. 'By God's mercy after five weeks keeping
my chamber I went abroad.'
Leaving Geneva on the 5th July 1646, Evelyn's party went by way of
Lyons, La Charite, and Orleans to Paris, arriving 'rejoic'd that after
so many disasters and accidents in a tedious peregrination, I was gotten
so neere home, and here I resolv'd to rest myselfe before I went
further. It was now October, and the onely time that in my whole life I
spent most idly, tempted from my more profitable recesses; but I soon
recover'd my better resolutions and fell to my study, learning the High
Dutch and Spanish tongues, and now and then refreshing my danceing, and
such exercises as I had long omitted, and which are not in much
reputation amongst the sober Italians.'
During the course of the following winter and spring he saw much of 'Sir
Richard Browne, his Majesty's Resident at the Court of France, and with
whose lady and family I had contracted a greate friendship (and
particularly set my affections on a daughter).' To this young girl,
Mary, the only child of Sir Richard Browne by a daughter of Sir John
Pretyman, he was married on 27th June, 1647, by Dr. Earle, chaplain to
the young Charles, then Prince of Wales, who was holding his court at
St. Germains. In October he returned by Rouen, Dieppe, and Calais, and
'got safe to Dover, for which I heartily put up my thanks to God who had
conducted me safe to my owne country, and been mercifull to me through
so many aberrations' during a period extending over four years. He
returned alone, 'leaving my wife, yet very young, under the care of an
excellent lady and prudent mother.' Indeed, she was a mere child, being
then not more than twelve years of age, and her father was only Evelyn's
senior by fifteen years.
IV
_Evelyn's Attitude during the Commonwealth 1647-1660._
Arrived at Wotton, he at once went to kiss his Majesty's hand at Hampton
Court and convey tidings from Paris, King Charles 'being now in the
power of those execrable villains who not long after murder'd him.'
Thence he betook himself to Sayes Court, near Deptford in Kent, the
estate belonging to his father-in-law, where he 'had a lodging and some
bookes.' It was here that he was living when his first literary work was
published, _Of Liberty and Servitude_, a translation from the French of
Le Vayer, in January, 1649, though the dedication of it to his brother
George bears date 25th January, 1647. He was very near getting into
trouble about the preface to this, because in his own copy he noted that
'I was like to be call'd in question by the Rebells for this booke,
being published a few days before his Majesty's decollation.' Although
he took no prominent part in politics at this particular time, yet he
could hardly help playing with the fire. Thus, on 11th December, 'I got
privately into the council of ye rebell army at Whitehall, where I heard
horrid villanies.' Having money in hand, either from savings during the
four years' sojourn abroad, where his expenses (including all purchases
of objects of art and vertu) did not amount to more than £300 a year, or
else from his child-wife's dowry, he dabbled in land speculation with
the fairly satisfactory result that on the whole he does not appear to
have lost much by it.
On 17th January, 1649, he 'heard the rebell Peters incite the rebell
powers met in the Painted Chamber to destroy his Majesty, and saw that
archtraytor Bradshaw, who not long after condemn'd him.' But his loyalty
kept him from being present at the death-scene. 'The villanie of the
rebells proceeding now so far as to trie, condemne and murder our
excellent King on the 30th of this month, struck me with such horror
that I kept the day of his martyrdom a fast, and would not be present at
that execrable wickednesse, receiving the sad account of it from my
Brother George and Mr. Owen, who came to visite me this afternoone, and
recounted all the circumstances.'
While he 'went through a course of chymestrie at Sayes Court,' and
otherwise engaged in study and in the examination of works of art, he
became disquieted about the condition of affairs in Paris.
Communications with his wife appear to have been very few and far
between, although with his father-in-law he 'kept up a political
correspondence' in cipher 'with no small danger of being discovered.' In
April he touched 'suddaine resolutions' of going to France, before he
received the news that Condé's siege of Paris had ended by peace being
concluded. The immediate carrying out of this intention was hindered by
a rush of blood to the brain. 'I fell dangerously ill of my head: was
blistered and let blood behind ye ears and forehead: on the 23rd. began
to have ease by using the fumes of a cammomile on embers applied to my
eares after all the physicians had don their best.' On 17th June,
however, he 'got a passe from the rebell Bradshaw, then in greate
power,' and on 12th July went viâ Gravesend to Dover and Calais,
arriving at Paris on 1st. August. Curiously enough his Diary makes no
mention of the child-wife, from whom he had 'been absent.... about a
yeare and a halfe,' save that on 'Sept. 7th. Went with my Wife and dear
cosin to St. Germains, and kissed the Queene-mother's hand.' He remained
in Paris till the end of June, 1650, when he made a flying visit to
England, and again obtained a pass from Bradshaw to proceed to France.
On 30th August, he was back again in Paris, where he stayed till his
final return to England in February 1652. His life in Paris at this time
was that of a cultured _dilletante_. He studied, or at any rate dabbled
in, chemistry, philosophy, theology, and music; and he found amusement
in examining gardens and collections of all sorts of virtuosities and
antiquities. He had 'much discourse of chymical matters' with Sir Kenelm
Digby; 'but the truth is, Sir Kenelm was an arrant mountebank.' Here,
too, he wrote his second literary composition, _The State of France, as
it stood in the IXth yeer of this present monarch Lewis XIIII_, which
was published in England in 1652. Apart from these occupations, his time
was chiefly spent in the pleasures and amusements common to the court
of France and to the throng of exiles from Britain who formed the Court
of the uncrowned monarch, Charles II.
Evelyn longed for settlement in England, because he saw that the
Royalist cause was hopelessly lost for the time being. His
father-in-law's estate of Sayes Court had been seized and sold by the
rebels, but 'by the advice and endeavour of my friends I was advis'd to
reside in it, and compound with the soldiers. This I was besides
authoriz'd by his Majesty to do, and encourag'd with promise that what
was in lease from the Crowne, if ever it pleased God to restore him, he
would secure to us in fee-ferme.{xxxi:1} I had also addresses and cyfers
to correspond with his Majesty and Ministers abroad: upon all which
inducements I was persuaded to settle henceforth in England, having now
run about the world, most part out of my owne country, neere ten yeares.
I therefore now likewise meditated sending over for my Wife, whom as yet
I had left at Paris.' She arrived on 11th. June with her Mother; and as
small-pox was then raging in and about London they sojourned for some
time at Tunbridge Wells, drinking the waters. About the end of that
month Evelyn went to Sayes Court to prepare for their reception, but was
waylaid by footpads near Bromley and came near meeting his death from
them. Fortunately, however, 'did God deliver me from these villains, and
not onely so, but restor'd what they tooke, as twice before he had
graciously don, both at sea and land;... for which, and many signal
preservations, I am extreamly oblig'd to give thanks to God my Saviour.'
On 24th July, 1652, Mrs. Evelyn presented her husband with their first
child, their son, John, who predeceased his father in 1698. He now
busied himself in acquiring full possession of his father-in-law's and
the rebels' interests in Sayes Court, which he effected at a cost of
£3,500 early in 1653.
Then he began gardening and planting on a large scale, transforming the
almost bare fields around the house into fine specimens of the art of
horticulture, as then practised. Sayes Court was afterwards the
temporary residence of Peter the Great, who committed great havoc in the
gardens and hedges during his rough orgies. Here Evelyn lived quietly
till the time of the Restoration, spending his days in gardening and in
cultivating the acquaintance of men of cultured tastes like his own,
with occasional journeys to different parts of England. Thus he visited
Windsor, Marlborough, Bath, Oxford, Salisbury, Devizes, Gloucester,
Worcester, Warwick, Leicester, Doncaster, York, Cambridge, and many
other places, so that he probably saw a great deal more of England than
the majority of men in his position. Thus, too, he learned much about
the country and about all branches of rural economy. He had not yet
seriously given himself to literature, although his third work was
published in 1656, _An Essay on the First Book of T. Lucretius Cerus de
Rerum Natura. Interpreted and made English Verse_.
In January, 1658, heavy sorrow fell upon Evelyn by the death of his
younger son, an infant prodigy, and a sad and wonderful example of a
young brain being terribly overtaxed. 'After six fits of a quartan ague
with which it pleased God to visite him, died my dear Son Richard, to
our inexpressible grief and affliction, 5 yeares and 3 days old onely,
but at that tender age a prodigy for witt and understanding; for beauty
of body a very angel; for endowment of mind of incredible and rare
hopes. To give onely a little taste of them, and thereby glory to God,
he had learn'd all this catechisme who out of the mouths of babes and
infants does sometimes perfect his praises: at 2 years and a halfe old
he could perfectly read any of ye English, Latine, French, or Gothic
letters, pronouncing the first three languages exactly. He had before
the 5th yeare, or in that yeare, not onely skill to reade most written
hands, but to decline all the nouns, conjugate the verbs regular, and
most of ye irregular; learn'd out "Puerilis," got by heart almost ye
entire vocabularie of Latine and French primitives and words, could make
congruous syntax, turne English into Latine, and _vice versâ_, construe
and prove what he read, and did the government and use of relatives,
verbs, substantives, elipses, and many figures and tropes, and made a
considerable progress in Comenius's Janua; began himselfe to write
legibly, and had a stronge passion for Greeke. The number of verses he
could recite was prodigious, and what he remembered of the parts of
playes, which he would also act; and when seeing a Plautus in one's
hand, he ask'd what booke it was, and being told it was comedy, and too
difficult for him, he wept for sorrow. Strange was his apt and ingenious
application of fables and morals, for he had read Æsop; he had a
wonderful disposition to mathematics, having by heart divers
propositions of Euclid that were read to him in play, and he would make
lines and demonstrate them. As to his piety, astonishing were his
applications of Scripture upon occasion, and thus early, he understood
ye historical part of ye Bible and New Testament to a wonder, how Christ
came to redeeme mankind, and how comprehending these necessarys
himselfe, his godfathers were discharg'd of their promise. These and
like illuminations, far exceeding his age and experience, considering
the prettinesse of his adresse and behaviour, cannot but leave
impressions in me at the memory of him. When one told him how many days
a Quaker had fasted, he replied that was no wonder, for Christ had said
that man should not live by bread alone, but by ye Word of God. He would
of himselfe select ye most pathetic psalms, and chapters out of Job, to
reade to his mayde during his sicknesse, telling her when she pitied
him, that all God's children must suffer affliction. He declaim'd
against ye vanities of the world before he had seene any...... How
thankfully would he receive admonition, how soone be reconciled! how
indifferent, yet continually chereful! He would give grave advice to his
Brother John, beare with his impertinencies, and say he was but a
child!' Even allowing for Evelyn's tendency to exaggeration, this is
surely one of the very saddest stories about a child of tender years,
reared in a wrong manner, that has ever been written in the English
language. This loss was no doubt the occasion of his writing his fourth
work, _The Golden Book of St. John Chrysostom, concerning the Education
of Children. Translated out of the Greek_, which was published in
September, 1658. A further relief from grief was also found in the
translation of _The French Gardiner: instructing how to cultivate all
sorts of Fruit-trees and Herbs for the Garden; together with directions
to dry and conserve them in their natural; six times printed in France
and once in Holland. An accomplished piece, first written by N. de
Bonnefons, and now transplanted into English by Philocepos_.
It must have gratified his royalist feelings when, on 22 Oct. 1658, he
'saw ye superb funerall of ye Protector.' He remarks that 'it was the
joyfullest funerall I ever saw, for there were none that cried but dogs,
which the soldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, drinking and
taking tobacco in the streets as they went.' Not long after this, on 25
April 1659, he notices 'a wonderfull and suddaine change in ye face of
ye publiq: ye new Protector Richard slighted, several pretenders and
parties strive for the government: all anarchy and confusion; Lord have
mercy on us!' For six months things drifted on, till on 11 Oct. 'the
Armie now turn'd out the Parliament. We had now no government in the
nation; all in confusion; no magistrate either own'd or pretended, but
ye soldiers, and they not agreed. God almighty have mercy on and settle
us!'
Evelyn apparently now thought the time ripe for him to venture; hence,
during 1659, he published _A Character of England as it was lately
presented in a Letter to a Noble Man of France_, and also _An Apology
for the Royal Party, written in a Letter to a person of the late Council
of State, by a Lover of Peace and of his Country. With a Touch at the
Pretended "Plea for the Army_." Of the latter he remarks in his Diary:
'Nov. 7th. was publish'd my bold "Apoligie for the King" in this time of
danger, when it was capital to speake or write in favour of him. It was
twice printed, so universaly it took.' Encouraged by the success of this
work, he began to intrigue with Colonel Morley, Lieutenant of the Tower,
and Fay, Governor of Portsmouth, in the interest of the exiled Charles;
but Morley shrank from declaring for the King, and General Monk
returning from Scotland to London, broke down the gates of the city,
'marches to White-hall, dissipates that nest of robbers, and convenes
the old Parliament, the Rump Parliament (so called as retaining some few
rotten members of ye other) being dissolv'd; and for joy whereoff were
many thousands of rumps roasted publiqly in ye streets at the bonfires
this night, with ringing of bells and universal jubilee. This was the
first good omen.'
From the February till the April following thereon Evelyn was confined
to bed with ague and its after effects, but found strength to write and
publish a pamphlet, _The late News from Brussels unmasked, and His
Majesty vindicated from the base calumny and scandal therein fixed on
him_, 'in defence of his Majesty, against a wicked forg'd paper,
pretended to be sent from Bruxells to defame his Majesties person and
vertues, and render him odious, now when everybody was in hope and
expectation of the General and Parliament recalling him, and
establishing ye government on its antient and right basis.' Early in May
came the tidings that the King's application for restoration had been
accepted and acknowledged by the Parliament 'after a most bloudy and
unreasonable rebellion of neare 20 years,' and before the end of the
month Evelyn was an eye-witness of the triumphal entry of the new king
into his capital. '29th. This day his Majestie Charles the Second came
to London after a sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of
the King and Church, being 17 years. This was also his birthday, and
with a triumph of above 20,000 horse and foote, brandishing their swords
and shouting with inexpressible joy; the wayes strew'd with flowers, the
bells ringing, the streets hung with tapissry, fountaines running with
wine; the Maior, Aldermen, and all the Companies in their liveries,
chaines of gold, and banners; Lords and Nobles clad in cloth of silver,
gold, and velvet; the windowes and balconies all set with ladies;
trumpets, music, and myriads of people flocking, even so far as from
Rochester, so as they were seven houres in passing the citty, even from
2 in ye afternoone till 9 at night. I stood in the Strand and beheld it,
and bless'd God. And all this was don without one drop of bloud shed,
and by that very army which rebell'd against him; but it was ye Lord's
doing, for such a restoration was never mention'd in any history antient
or modern, since the returne of the Jews from the Babylonish captivity;
nor so joyfull a day and so bright ever seene in this nation, this
hapning when to expect or effect it was past all human policy.'
Despite his dilettantism and dabbling in science, philosophy and
letters, Evelyn had for years past felt the desirability of having some
sort of fixed employment. Previous to this, during 1659, he had
communicated to the Hon. Robert Boyle, son of the Earl of Cork, a scheme
for founding a philosophic and mathematical college or fraternity, and
had even arranged with his wife that they should live asunder, in two
separate apartments. The Restoration, however, put a stop to this
scheme, which then evolved itself, soon afterwards, into the foundation
of the Royal Society, Boyle and Evelyn being two of the most prominent
original Fellows.
V
_Evelyn's Career after the Restoration. (1660-1685)._
Evelyn was about forty years of age when the Restoration changed the
whole prospects of his still long life. He had been a devoted Royalist,
though it can not be denied that his zeal in this respect was ever
tempered with a vast amount of caution and prudence. In addition to what
interest he had earned by his own actions, he had the far more powerful
influence of his father-in-law who had, like Charles himself, been
exiled for nineteen years. Mrs. Evelyn was promised the appointment of
lady of the jewels to the future Queen, which she never received; and
Evelyn might have had the honour of knighthood of the Bath, but declined
it. He was present at the Coronation in Westminster Abbey on St.
George's Day, 1661, and had prepared and printed a _Panegyric_ poem on
the occasion, a screed of bombastic doggerel in fulsome praise of the
King. He was a frequent visitor at the Court, and loved to sun himself
in the royal presence. One of the finest examples of this feature of
Evelyn's character is his _Fumifugium_, published in 1661, which will be
more particularly referred to later on, a work which marks the real
commencement of his literary career.
In 1661, also, Evelyn wrote a pamphlet entitled _Tyrannus or the Mode_,
an invective against 'our so much affecting the French' in dress, and he
was pleased with the idea that afterwards, in 1666, a change in costume
then adopted by the King and court was due to this cause. He, too,
donned and went to office in 'the vest and surcoat and tunic as 'twas
call'd, after his Majesty had brought the whole Court to it. It was a
comely and manly habit, too good to hold, it being impossible for us in
good earnest to leave ye Monsieurs vanities long.'
At length employment, at first unpaid, in the public service fell to
Evelyn in May, 1662, when along with 'divers gentlemen of quality,' he
was appointed one of the Commissioners 'for reforming the buildings,
wayes, streetes, and incumbrances, and regulating the hackney coaches in
the Citty of London.' About this same time he was also on the Commission
appointed 'about Charitable uses, and particularly to enquire how the
Citty had dispos'd of the revenues of Gressham College,' and in the
original grant of the Charter of the Royal Society he was nominated by
the King to be on its Council. Among the other Commissions upon which he
shortly sat were those on Sewers, and on the regulation of the Mint at
the Tower; but it was not till 27 Oct. 1664 that he received a paid
appointment as one of the four Commissioners for the care of the sick
and wounded prisoners to be made in the war declared against Holland.
For this the remuneration was 'a Salary £1,200 a year amongst us,
besides extraordinaries for our care and attention in time of station,
each of us being appointed to a particular district, mine falling out to
be Kent and Sussex.'
Before this, however, an event had occurred which must have given
intense gratification to Evelyn, when on 30th April, 1663, 'Came his
Majesty to honour my poore villa with his presence, viewing the gardens
and even every roome of the house, and was pleas'd to take a small
refreshment. There were with him the Duke of Richmond, E. of St. Albans,
Lord Lauderdale, and several persons of Quality.'
The year 1664 was a busy one for Evelyn, as he then brought out his two
great masterpieces _Sylva_ and the _Kalendarium Hortense_, of which more
anon, as well as the translation of a French work on Architecture. His
official duties in connection with the maintainance of the Dutch
prisoners also became so heavy that the charges came to £1,000 a week.
The Savoy Hospital was filled with them, and a privy seal grant of
£20,000 was made to carry on the work; but the expenses increasing
reached £7,000 a week, and Evelyn had hard work to get money from the
treasury. Harassed with anxieties of this sort, he frequently went 'to
ye Royal Society to refreshe among ye philosophers' where he found
solace in serving along with Dryden, Waller, and others on a Committee
for the improvement of the English language.
In the following year the dreadful plague broke out, when he and one
other Commissioner were left to deal with the task of providing for the
sick and wounded prisoners. From 1,000 deaths in a week in the middle of
July, the mortality increased to near 10,000 by the beginning of
September, so he sent his wife and family to his brother at Wotton, and
remained at work, 'being resolved to stay at my house myselfe; and to
looke after my charge, trusting in the providence and goodnesse of God.'
Prisoners poured in in larger numbers than he could receive and guard in
fit places, and he was continually forced to importune for money lest
the prisoners should starve. It was then, perhaps, that Evelyn was
thrown most in contact with his intimate friend Pepys, for both of them
remained steadfast when others had fled. And they had their reward in
coming safely through their trial of faithfulness to official duty. 'Now
blessed be God,' he writes on 31 Dec. 1665, 'for his extraordinary
mercies and preservation of me this yeare, when thousands and ten
thousands perish'd and were swept away on each side of me.'
This hard work was a source of loss to Evelyn, as from time to time he
advanced monies of his own to supply provisions for the needy committed
to his care: and subsequent petitions for reinbursement were only
partially successful. But he was rewarded by the sunny warmth of that
royal favour which cost nothing, because when the King returned from
Oxford to Hampton Court and Evelyn went to wait upon his Majesty there
at the end of January, 1666, he duly records how 'he ran towards me, and
in a most gracious manner gave me his hand to kisse, with many thanks
for my care and faithfulnesse in his service in a time of such greate
danger, when every body fled their employments.' Poor Evelyn seems to
have been rather easily duped in this sort of way. 'Then the Duke (of
Albemarle) came towards me and embrac'd me with much kindnesse, telling
me if he had thought my danger would have been so greate, he would not
have suffer'd his Majesty to employ me in that station.' And so on,
'after which I got home, not being very well in health.' It certainly
was such ridiculously insincere treatment that it might well have caused
immediate sickening in one of robust health.
It was, forsooth, only in very minor matters that Evelyn profited by the
royal favour or by his courtiership. In April, 1666, Charles informed
him that he must now be sworn for a Justice of the Peace, ('the office
in the world I had most industriously avoided, in regard of the
perpetual trouble thereoff in these numerous parishes'), and he only
escaped this infliction by humbly desiring to be excused from fresh
duties inconsistent with the other service he was engaged in. So excused
he was, by royal favour, for which he 'rendered his Majesty many
thanks.' And on that same day he declined re-election to the Council of
the Royal Society for the following year on 'earnest suite' of other
affairs; for he had to be consistent in such different matters that
would have engaged a portion of his time.
Besides his work in connection with prisoners and the Mint he was
shortly afterwards nominated one of the Commissioners for regulating the
farming and making of saltpetre and gunpowder throughout Britain, an
appointment which was all the more appropriate from the fact that his
grandfather, George Evelyn of Long Ditton and Wotton (1530-1603), had
been the first to introduce the manufacture of gunpowder into England,
when he established mills on both of his properties. He was also
appointed one of the three Surveyors of the repairs of St. Paul's
Cathedral, 'and to consider of a model for the new building, or, if it
might be, repairing of the steeple, which was most decay'd.'
With hands and head fully occupied with business affairs he found time
for other work of a useful nature, while still having plenty of leisure
for social duties and enjoyments. In this respect he forms a good
example of the well-known truth that it is always the busiest men who
can spare most time for matters lying outside of their special grooves
of work. Thus in September, 1665, he drew up a scheme for erecting an
infirmary at Chatham, in which he was supported by his friend Pepys,
then a high official in the Navy Department and like himself a shrewd
man of business and method, and therefore finding time for other than
purely routine official work; while in August, 1666, he entreated the
Lord Chancellor 'to visite the Hospital of the Savoy, and reduce it
(after ye greate abuse that had been continu'd) to its original
institution for ye benefit of the poore, which he promis'd to do.'
But nothing came from either of these schemes, for on 2nd. Sept. 'this
fatal night about ten, began the deplorable fire neere Fish Streete in
London.' It raged by day and by night,--'(if I may call that night which
was light as day for 10 miles round about, after a dreadful manner).'
Nothing could be done to stay its progress, and the citizens were
awe-stricken and paralyzed by fear. 'The conflagration was so universal,
and the people so astonish'd, that from the beginning, I know not by
what despondency or fate, they hardly stirr'd to quench it, so that
there was nothing heard or seene but crying out and lamentation, running
about like distracted creatures without at all attempting to save even
their goods; such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it
burned both in breadth and length, the churches, publics halls,
Exchange, hospitals, monuments, and ornaments, leaping after a
prodigious manner, from house to house and streete to streete, at great
distances one from ye other; for ye heate with a long set of faire and
warm weather had even ignited the aire and prepar'd the materials to
conceive the fire, which devour'd after an incredible manner houses,
furniture, and every thing. Here we saw the Thames cover'd with goods
floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some had time and
courage to save, as, on ye other, ye carts etc., carrying out to the
fields, which for many miles were strew'd with moveables of all sorts,
and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get
away. Oh the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as happly the
world had not seene since the foundation of it, nor be outdon till the
universal conflagration thereof. All the skie was of a fiery aspect,
like the top of a burning oven, and the light seene above 40 miles round
about for many nights. God grant mine eyes may never behold the like,
who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one flame; the noise and cracking
and thunder of the impetuous flames, ye shreiking of women and children,
the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches, was like
an hideous storme, and the aire all about so hot and inflam'd that at
the last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forc'd to
stand and let ye flames burn on, which they did for neere two miles in
lengh and one in breadh. The clowds also of smoke were dismall and
reach'd upon computation neer 50 miles in length. Thus I left it this
afternoone burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or the last day. It forcibly
call'd to my mind that passage--_non enim hic habemus stabilem
civitatem_: the ruines resembling the picture of Troy. London was, but
is no more! Thus I returned.'
For days the conflagration raged, although the whole situation might
probably have been saved if the advice of seamen, then as now amongst
the bravest and most practical of Britain's sons, had been followed.
When the court suburb of Whitehall began to be threatened,--'but oh, the
confusion there was then at the Court!'--the gentlemen, 'who hitherto
had stood as men intoxicated, with their hands acrosse,.... began to
consider that nothing was likely to put a stop but the blowing up of so
many houses as might make a wider gap than any had yet been made by the
ordinary method of pulling them downe with engines; this some stout
seamen propros'd early enough to have sav'd neere ye whole citty, but
this some tenacious and avaritious men, aldermen, etc., would not
permitt, because their houses must have been of the first.' At length,
however, the fire died out, the houseless citizens finding refuge in
tents and miserable huts and hovels hastily erected about St. George's
fields and Moorfields as far as Highgate. But Evelyn's abode had
remained untouched. From reviewing the now poverty-striken people 'in
this calamitous condition I return'd with a sad heart to my house,
blessing and adoring the distinguishing mercy of God to me and mine, who
in the midst of all this ruine was like Lot, in my little Zoar, safe
and sound.'
The plague and the fire were held to be the visitation of God's anger,
and Evelyn evidently thought the heavy punishment richly merited. 'Oct.
10th. This day was order'd a generall fast thro' the Nation, to humble
us on ye late dreadfull conflagration, added to the plague and warr, the
most dismall judgments that could be inflicted, but whiche indeed we
highly deserv'd for our prodigious ingratitude, burning lusts, dissolute
Court, profane and abominable lives, under such dispensations of God's
continu'd favour in restoring Church, Prince, and People from our late
intestine calamities, of which we were altogether unmindfull, even to
astonishment.'
Like Wren and Hooke, Evelyn submitted a scheme for the rebuilding of
London upon an improved plan, but the new city was formed mainly upon
the old lines.
Meanwhile the Dutch fleet was lying off the mouth of the Thames. Though
England then happily produced all the food she required, yet the city
became 'exceedingly distress'd for want of fuell' because of the traffic
up and down the estuary being interrupted. Hence Evelyn was appointed
one of a Committee to search the environs of London and find if any peat
or turf were fit for use. Experiments were made with _houllies_ or
briquettes of charcoal dust and loam in the Dutch manner, and Evelyn
shewed to many proof of his 'new fuell, which was very glowing and
without smoke or ill smell'. But the process never caught on, and was
abandoned as giving no promise of commercial success.
Evelyn's account against the Treasury now amounted to above £34,000, and
he continued to urge for payment of it, or for the settlement of unpaid
portions of it, as late as 1702, about three years before his death.
Whether this straitened his means or not, he was at any rate eager to
make money by speculation. So in 1667 he joined Sir John Kiviet, a Dutch
Orangeman who had come over to England for protection and had been
knighted by King Charles, in a scheme for making bricks on a large
scale. Perhaps as a sort of advertisement of this commercial enterprise
he subscribed 50,000 bricks towards building a college for the Royal
Society. It was a big scheme, including the embankment of the river from
the Tower to the Temple, and if successful it would have brought much
gain to the partners.
Evelyn says nothing about the ultimate results of his undertaking, but
Pepys furnishes the necessary clue in his diary for September,
1668--'23d. At noon comes Mr Evelyn to me, about some business with the
office, and there in discourse tell me of his loss, to the value of
£500, which he hath met with in a late attempt of making of bricks upon
an adventure with others, by which he presumed to have got a great deal
of money; so that I see the most ingenious man may sometimes be
mistaken'. Kiviet a year or two later on had a fresh scheme for draining
marshy lands 'with the hopes of a rich harvest of hemp and cole seed',
but Evelyn took no share in this new adventure.
In July 1669 his University, Oxford, bestowed upon him the honorary
degree of Doctor of Civil Law, but he had still no permanent official
appointment, his Commissionerships now being completed. Early in May
1670 he went 'to London concerning the office of Latine Secretary to his
Majesty, a place of more honor than dignitie and profit, the revertion
of which he had promised me', though the promise was not fulfilled.
Early in 1669, it had been proposed to Evelyn by Lord Arlington that he
should write a history of the Dutch War, but he declined. Towards the
middle of the following year, however, pressure was brought on him to
undertake the work. 'After dinner Lord (Arlington) communicated to me
his Majesty's desire that I would engage to write the History of our
late War with the Hollanders, which I had hitherto declin'd; this I
found was ill-taken, and that I should disoblige his Majesty, who had
made choice of me to do him this service, and if I would undertake it, I
should have all the assistance the Secretary's office and others could
give me, with other encouragements, which I could not decently refuse'.
This work was never completed, so much as was written by way of
introduction being subsequently published in 1674 as _Navigation and
Commerce, their Original and Progress_.
Evelyn was, however, not to have much longer to wait for regular
official employment, as on 28 February, 1671, 'The Treasurer acquainted
me that his Majesty was graciously pleas'd to nominate me one of the
Council of Forraine Plantations, and give me a salary of £500 per ann.
to encourage me'. He was pleased with his appointment in connection with
our Colonies, 'a considerable honour, the others in the Council being
chiefly Noblemen, and Officers of State'. In the following year the
scope of this department was increased by adding the Council of Trade to
its duties. He at once went to thank the Treasurer and Lord Arlington,
Secretary of State, whose favour he possessed though he 'cultivated
neither of their friendships by any meane submissions'. And he failed
not, of course, to kiss the King's hand on being made one of that newly
established Council. But Royalist though he was, he could not be blind
to the profligacy of the Court and of the King, to whose Majesty his
works were so grandiloquently dedicated.
On one occasion after submitting progress of his History to the King, he
says 'thence walk'd with him thro' St. James's Parke to the garden,
where I both saw and heard a very familiar discourse between... and Mrs.
Nellie as they cal'd an impudent comedian, she looking out of her garden
on a terrace at the top of the wall, and... standing on ye greene walke
under it. I was heartily sorry at the scene. Thence the King walked to
the Dutchess of Cleaveland, another lady of pleasure, and curse of our
nation'. Evelyn is usually so strict about any reference to the
proprieties that it is hard to understand why this particular interview
between King Charles and Nell Gwynne should be mentioned so
circumstantially. As for the Court, when it went abroad, say to
Newmarket, one might have 'found ye jolly blades racing, dauncing,
feasting, and revelling, more resembling a luxurious and abandon'd rout,
than a Christian Court.'
Early in 1672 his father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne, resigned office as
Clerk of the Council, a place which his Majesty had years before
promised to Evelyn; but he was induced to give up this lien on renewal
of the lease of Sayes Court for 99 years, although the King's written
engagement to grant the estate in fee-farme is still extant at Wotton.
In 1673 Browne became Master of the Trinity House, and Evelyn was sworn
in as a younger Brother, having in the previous autumn been chosen
Secretary to the Royal Society: and two months later his son John, now
18 years of age, was also made a younger brother of Trinity House.
Evelyn's life seems now to have glided on very quietly. Much of his time
was taken up with the colonial and commercial work controlled by the
Council of Plantations and Trade, though he still found leisure for
literary work, scientific recreation, and other affairs. His mind
apparently about this time became greatly attracted towards religious
subjects, and it seems more than probable that this may (in part, at any
rate) have been due to a very strong though purely platonic attachment
he now formed to Miss Blagg, one of the Queen's Maids of Honour, who
married Mr. Sydney, afterwards Lord Godolphin, in 1675 and died in
childbed in 1678 at the early age of twenty five. His _Life of Mrs
Godolphin_, never published till 1847, was 'design'd to consecrate her
worthy life to posterity.' In February 1680 his son John, now 23 years
of age and imitating his father's literary beginning as a translator,
was married to Martha Spencer, step-daughter of Sir John Stonehouse.
That Evelyn was now fairly well off is evident from the terms of the
jointure and marriage contracts then made. 'The lady was to bring £5,000
in consideration of a settlement of £500 a yeare present maintainence,
which was likewise to be her jointure, and £500 a yeare after myne and
my Wife's decease. But with God's blessing it will be at the least £1000
a yeare more in a few yeares.' Always of business habits, Evelyn
particularly records how, in the following month, he went 'To London, to
receive £3,000 of my daughter-in-law's portion, which was paid in gold.'
The deeply religious caste of thought above alluded to as now becoming
very noticeable in Evelyn shewed itself strongly in the autumn of 1680.
'I went to London to be private, my birthday being ye next day, and I
now arriv'd at my sixtieth year, on which I began a more solemn survey
of my whole life, in order to the making and confirming my peace with
God, by an accurate scrutinie of all my actions past, as far as I was
able to call them to mind. How difficult and uncertaine, yet how
necessary a work! The Lord be mercifull to me and accept me! Who can
tell how oft he offendeth?... I began and spent the whole weeke in
examining my life, begging pardon for my faults, assistance and blessing
for the future, that I might in some sort be prepar'd for the time that
now drew neere, and not have the greater work to begin when one can
worke no longer. The Lord Jesus help and assist me! I therefore stirr'd
little abroad till the 5 November..... I participated of ye blessed
communion, finishing and confirming my resolutions of giving myselfe up
more intirely to God, to whom I had now most solemnly devoted the rest
of the poore remainder of life in this world; the Lord enabling me, who
am an unprofitable servant, a miserable sinner, yet depending on his
infinite goodnesse and mercy accepting my endeavours.'
It were well if all men, even before attaining 60 years of age, could
bring themselves to such periods of reflection on past and present acts,
and even though all the good resolves may not have been quite rigidly
acted up to. And even in Evelyn's case, at any rate so far as his diary
shews, he appears afterwards to have continued just as much a man of the
world as he was before these solemn resolutions, although the glamour of
being a courtier seems perhaps to have henceforth become less
rose-coloured. A trivial incident happening while he was supping one
night at Lady Arlington's, in June 1683, gave rise to the reflection
that 'By this one may take an estimate of the extream slavery and
subjection that courtiers live in, who have not time to eate and drink
at their pleasure. It put me in mind of Horace's Mouse, and to blesse
God for my owne private condition.' Twenty years previously he would not
have thought or said this.
Evelyn took a leading part in the negociations for the repurchase of
Chelsea College for £1,300 from the Royal Society to whom it had been
recently presented by the King, and for the establishment of a hospital
for old soldiers there at a cost of £20,000 with an endowment of £5,000
a year.
Several violent fits of ague having afflicted him during the winter of
1681-82, to cure which 'recourse was had to bathing my legs in milk up
to ye knees, made as hot as I could endure it', Evelyn made his will
and put all his affairs in order 'that now growing in yeares, I might
have none of the secular things and concerns to distract me when it
should please Almighty God to call me from this transitory life'. In
November 1682 he was asked by many friends to stand for election as
president of the Royal Society, in succession to Sir Christopher Wren,
but pleading 'remote dwelling, and now frequent infirmities' he declined
the proffered honour. Subsequently, in 1690, he had actually, 'been
chosen President of the Royal Society', but desired to decline it 'and
with greate difficulty devolv'd the election on Sir Robert Southwell,
Secretary of State to King William in Ireland.' For a third time, in
November 1693, the honour was again offered--'Much importun'd to take
the office of President of the Royal Society, but I againe declin'd it.'
On 12th February 1683 his father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne, who had
been created a baronet in 1649, and to whose influence he owed much,
died at his house at Sayes Court, leaving Mrs. Evelyn as his sole
heiress. Meanwhile grandchildren had been born to Evelyn, some of whom
soon died in infancy. His appointment on the Council of Plantations and
Trade seems to have lapsed before this time, for no further mention is
made in his diary of Council meetings, and he seems to have resided
chiefly at Sayes Court, gardening and spending his time in scholarly
leisure and recreation. This surmise is borne out by what he says in
1683, 'Oct. 4th. I went to London, on receiving a note from the
Countesse of Arlington, of some considerable charge or advantage I might
obtaine by applying myselfe to his Majesty on this signal conjuncture of
his Majesty entering up judgment against the City charter; the proposal
made me I wholly declin'd, not being well satisfied with these violent
transactions, and not a little sorry that his Majesty was so often put
upon things of this nature against so great a Citty, the consequence
wheroff may be so much to his prejudice; so I return'd home.'
On 6th February 1685 King Charles II. died after an apoplectic fit, and
his brother James, Duke of York, ascended the throne. Evelyn comments
fully on the virtues and vices of the late monarch. 'He would doubtless
have been an excellent Prince had he been less addicted to women, who
made him uneasy, and allways in want to supply their immeasurable
profusion, to ye detriment of many indigent persons who had signaly
serv'd both him and his father..... He was ever kind to me, and very
gracious upon all occasions, and therefore I cannot, without
ingratitude, but deplore his loss, which for many respects, as well as
duty, I do with all my soul.'
VI
_Evelyn's Declining Years_ (1685-1706).
With the accession of James II., Evelyn was again to feel the sunny
warmth of royal favour in the form of an official appointment. But
previous to this he had to suffer a heavy loss by the death from
small-pox of his eldest daughter Mary, in the 19th year of her age, who
had been born at Wotton in the same room as her father had first seen
the light.
In September 1685 Evelyn was informed that on Lord Clarendon, Lord Privy
Seal, going to assume the Lord Lieutenancy of Ireland the King had
nominated him as one of the Commissioners to execute the office of Privy
Seal during such appointment; and early in December he was 'put into the
new Commission of Sewers.' It was nearly Christmas before he kissed
hands on receiving the patent for executing this office and entered on
its duties along with the two other Commissioners. They performed these
till the 10th March 1687, when the King relieved them with compliments
on their 'faithfull and loyal service, with many gracious expressions to
this effect', and bestowed the seal on Lord Arundel of Wardour, a
zealous Roman Catholic.
In the early days of James II's reign the patronage which seemed to be
coming in Evelyn's direction appears to have, not unnaturally perhaps,
somewhat coloured his opinion as to the new monarch's capacity and
disposition. After a journey undertaken with Pepys to Windsor,
Winchester, and Portsmouth in September 1685, whither the King went to
view the state of the fortifications, he recorded that 'what I observ'd
in this journey, is that infinite industry, sedulity, gravity, and
greate understanding and experience of affairs, in his Majesty, that I
cannot but predict much happiness to ye nation, as to its political
government; and if he so persist, there could be nothing more desir'd to
accomplish our prosperity, but that he was of the national church.'
Biassed and prejudiced in the royal favour as he then temporarily was,
this account of King James proved so totally incorrect that it is a
wonder Evelyn retained it in the compilation which he left as his
_Diary_. The only explanation seems to be that he wished to record his
prevision as regards Roman Catholicism proving the main rock upon which
the King might come to grief, as he afterwards did.
Titus Oates' conspiracy and the Duke of Monmouth's invasion and
insurrection went by without affecting Evelyn much. He was in the latter
case called upon to supply a mounted trooper, which he did rather
grudgingly. 'The two horsemen which my son and myselfe sent into the
county troopes, were now come home, after a moneth's being out to our
greate charge.' But what concerned him much more was that matters
frequently came before the Commission of the Privy Seal to which he
could not, on religious grounds principally, give his assent. On such
occasions he would sometimes go to his house in the country, 'refusing
to be present at what was to passe at the Privy Seale the next day',
because any two out of the three Commissioners formed a quorum. At other
times, however, he had to face his responsibility properly, by refusing
to put his seal to the papers in question, while noting his objections
to the course of action proposed. The Papistry which was spreading over
the country under the King's influence seemed to darken the land and to
obscure the future. 'Popish Justices of the Peace establish'd in all
counties, of the meanest of the people; Judges ignorant of the law, and
perverting it--so furiously do the Jesuits drive, and even compel
Princes to violent courses, and destruction of an excellent government
both in Church and State. God of his infinite mercy open our eyes and
turn our hearts, and establish his truth with peace! The Lord Jesus
defend his little flock, and preserve this threaten'd Church and
Nation.'
A staunch Protestant, Evelyn no longer possessed the King's favour, and
henceforth he received no further appointment or token of royal approval
although he still frequented the Court at Whitehall. In August 1688 he
was secretly informed by the Rev. Dr. Tenison, afterwards Bishop of
Lincoln, of the impending invasion of the Prince of Orange, and, while
regularly paying his duty as a courtier, he informed the lately
imprisoned Archbishop and Bishops of the intrigues on which the Jesuits
were hard at work. And subsequently 'My Lord of Canterbury gave me great
thanks for the advertisement I sent him in October, and assured me they
took my counsell in that particular, and that it came very seasonably.'
On 18th December, he 'saw the King take barge to Gravesend at 12
o'clock--a sad sight,' on the very day that the Prince of Orange came to
St. James and filled Whitehall with Dutch guards. All the world at once
went to pay court to the Prince whose star was now in the ascendant:
and, of course, Evelyn went too. A couple of months later he 'saw _the
new Queene_ and _King_ proclaim'd the very next day after her coming to
Whitehall, Wednesday 13 Feb., with greate acclamations and generall good
reception.... It was believ'd that both, especially the Princesse, would
have shew'd some (seeming) reluctance at least, of assuming her father's
Crown, and some apology, testifying her regret that he should by his
mismanagement necessitate the Nation to so extraordinary a proceeding,
which would have shew'd very handsomely to the world, and according to
the character given by her piety; consonant also to her husband's first
decleration, that there was no intention of deposing the King, but of
succouring the Nation; but nothing of all this appear'd; she came into
White-hall laughing and jolly, as to a wedding, so as to seem quite
transported..... This carriage was censured by many.'
After the Restoration Evelyn's life as a courtier was practically at an
end, as he never quite approved the enforced abdication of King James.
So henceforth he spent his time, without further attendance at Court or
seeking after office or appointment, in study, literary work, and
retirement. He did not like the new régime, with its 'Court offices
distributed amongst Parliament men.... Things far from settled as was
expected, by reason of the slothfull, sickly temper of the new King, and
the Parliament's unmindfullness of Ireland, which is likely to prove a
sad omission.' He even seems to have regretted that his son was in March
1692 made 'one of the Commissioners of the Revenue and Treasury of
Ireland, to which employment he had a mind far from my wishes.' This son
contracted serious illness in Ireland, and died 'after a tedious
languishing sickness' early in 1699, aged 44 years, leaving one son,
then a student at Oxford.
Some time before this his elder brother, George, having lost his last
son and heir, had settled the Wotton estate upon John Evelyn. In May
1694, yielding to the request to make Wotton his home, he went to
Wotton, leaving Sayes Court in charge of his daughter Susanna and her
husband William Draper, whose marriage had been celebrated about a year
previously. In 1696 it was let for three years to Admiral Benbow, who
sublet it in 1698 to Peter the Great, then visiting the Deptford
Dockyards for three months as his Majesty's guest. So great was the
destruction done to the gardens, trees, and holly-hedges, that Wren was
asked to report on the compensation suitable, and £162-7-0 were paid to
Evelyn for damage to the house and garden.
Early in 1695 Evelyn accepted the offer of the Treasurership of
Greenwich Hospital, then about to be rebuilt and endowed for the
maintainence of decayed seamen, which was made to him by Lord Godolphin,
who had been the husband of his former friend Miss Blagg. During the
days of Charles II. some such transformation of the Palace had been
under consideration, but it was the 30th June 1696 before Evelyn and Sir
Christopher Wren 'laid the first stone of the intended foundation,
precisely at 5 o'clock in the evening, after we had din'd together.'
This appointment carried with it 'the salary of £200 per ann. of which I
have never yet receiv'd one penny of the tallies assign'd for it, now
two years at Lady-day; my son-in-law Draper is my substitute.' When the
new Commission for Greenwich Hospital was sealed in August 1703 Evelyn
resigned his office of Treasurer in favour of Draper.
His brother George dying in October 1699, Evelyn then became the owner
of Wotton, and looked to his grandson, the Oxford Student, to 'be the
support of the Wotton family.' The lad had a bad attack of small-pox in
the autumn of 1700, a malady that had caused many gaps in the family
circle; but, coming safely through this illness, he was in July 1701, by
the patronage of Lord Godolphin, made one of the Commissioners of the
Prizes, with a salary of £500 a year, while he was still an
undergraduate at Oxford. And in January 1704 the same noble patron
appointed him Treasurer of the Stamp Duties, with a salary of £300 a
year. He afterwards married Ann, daughter of Hugh Boscawen (afterwards
Lord Falmouth), Lord Godolphin's niece, and was created a baronet in
1713. It was through him that the present family of Evelyn of Wotton
directly descend, though the baronetcy lapsed on the death of his
grandson Frederick in 1812.
As he had done twenty years before, so also on now attaining his 80th
birthday on 31st. October 1700 Evelyn rendered thanks for mercies with
his characteristic religious feeling. 'I with my soul render thanks to
God, who of his infinite mercy, not only brought me out of many
troubles, but this yeare restor'd me to health, after an ague and other
infirmities of so greate an age, my sight, hearing and other senses and
faculties tolerable, which I implore him to continue, with the pardon of
my sins past, and grace to acknowledge by my improvement of his
goodnesse the ensuing yeare, if it be his pleasure to protract my life,
that I may be the better prepar'd for my last day, through the infinite
merits of my blessed Saviour, the Lord Jesus, Amen.'
Five times more was he to be privileged to record his thanks and prayers
on successive returns of this anniversary. One of the very last entries
in his memoirs is that on 31st. October 1705 'I am this day arriv'd to
the 85th year of my age. Lord teach me so to number my days to come that
I may apply them to wisdom'. And numbered, indeed, they then were; for
on the 27th of February 1706 he passed quietly and peacefully away,
retaining his faculties to the last. And he was laid at rest in the
Chancel of Wotton Church.
During the course of his long and distinguished life he had seen many
stirring events, had taken part in many important affairs, had achieved
much, and had suffered much. He had outlived four reigns, two of which
were terminated by a natural death, one by public execution, and one by
abdication. He had served many public and other distinguished offices
with zeal, ability, integrity, and success. He had given to English
literature some of the classic works that are among the treasures of our
literature of the Restoration period. He had outlived all of his six
sons, most of whom had died in childhood, as well as his eldest and
favourite daughter. Of all his nine children, the sole survivors were
his daughter Elizabeth, who was soon afterwards married to a son of Sir
John Tippet, and Susanna, wife of William Draper, afterwards of Adscomb
near Croydon. After nearly 60 years of pure domestic wedded life, in
marked contrast to the prevailing dissoluteness of the time, Evelyn was
survived for nearly three years by his widow, who died in 1709, aged 74
years, cherishing to the last her love and affection for him to whom her
destiny had been committed whilst she was still a mere child. 'His care
of my education', she wrote in her last Will and Testament, 'was such as
might become a father, a lover, a friend, and a husband; for
instruction, tenderness, affection and fidelity to the last moment of
his life; which obligation I mention with a gratitude to his memory ever
dear to me; and I must not omit to own the sense I have of my parents'
care and goodness in placing me in such worthy hands.' Surely no husband
ever had a nobler epitaph.
In an age of fierce political and ecclesiastical conflict, Evelyn,
often, no doubt, strongly tempted to partisanship, managed to steer his
course with prudence and great worldly judgment. But for that, his
industry and business talent would probably have brought him more
prominently into office under Charles II. In a corrupt and profligate
age, however, his character stands out as that of one unsullied by
excesses, impurities, or vices. And it is not the least of his merits
that, in an age of bigotry and narrow-mindedness, he was not intolerant
towards those whose religious views happened to differ from his own.
VII
_Evelyn's Literary Works._
Evelyn's earliest publications, some of which have already been referred
to, consisted mostly in translations from the French, Latin, and Greek,
that of the first book of Lucretius' _De Rerum Natura_ being in verse.
Their authorship was usually veiled either under Greek pseudonyms or
else more thinly under the initials 'J.E.' That on _A Character of
England_ (1659), a tract purporting to have been written by a foreigner,
appeared anonymously.
Of all these seven publications appearing before the Restoration, the
only one of any importance was _The French Gardener_, the translation of
a work by N. de Bonnefons, which appeared at the end of 1658 and was
thus referred to in the diary,--'Dec. 6th. Now was publish'd my "French
Gardener," the first and best of the kind that introduc'd ye use of the
Olitorie garden to any purpose.' Subsequent editions of it appeared in
1669, 1672, 1691, bearing Evelyn's name on the titlepage in place of the
_Philocepos_ on its first publication.
With the Restoration, bringing to him greater personal freedom of
thought and speech, came the most active period of Evelyn's literary
production. His loyalty at once found opportunity to answer a libel on
King Charles (entitled _News from Brussels_) in _The late News from
Brussels unmasked_, a long vindication of his Majesty from the calumnies
and scandal therein fixed on him. From a literary and antiquarian point
of view, however, far greater interest attaches to a much shorter
treatise entitled _Fumifugium: or the Inconvenience of the Aer and Smoak
of London Dissipated, together with some Remedies humbly proposed_. As
this is the earliest reference to the great London Smoke Nuisance,
which, like the poor, we have always with us, it is of more than passing
interest to know how large this difficult problem of curing it loomed
about two and a half centuries ago. Moreover, this short work affords a
very typical example of Evelyn's literary style, while at the same time
well exemplyfying his profusely enthusiastic outbursts of devoted and
loyal attachment to the King's person and interests.
In the dull days of autumn and winter, when the heavy, damp air wafted
inwards from the sea shrouds London with a dirty pall of fog thickened
and discoloured with the smoke belched forth skywards from the long
throats of thousands of tall factory chimneys and emitted from hundreds
of thousands of household and workshop fires, the dweller in this vast
overgrown city is tempted to range himself for the moment among the
belauders of better times in the past. Almost groping his way along the
streets in semi-darkness, and half choked with the sulphurous surcharge
in the atmosphere, this latter-day growler may perhaps be astonished to
learn that his complaint is of very old standing, and that long before
the days of his great-great-grandfather, in fact more than seven
generations ago, this poisoning of the atmosphere with the impurities
given off from 'sea-coal' and other combustibles had already come to be
looked on by some as a public nuisance. It will, therefore, interest
Londoners in general, and will delight the hearts of Sir William
Richmond R.A. and the County Council in particular, to know that their
great precursor in this matter of reform nearly 250 years ago considered
the question even then one of urgency, admitting of no delay. How
graphic, and how refreshing, is the pithy point thus neatly scored--
'I propose therefore, that by an _Act_ of this present
_Parliament_, this infernal _Nuisance_ be removed.'
There is no beating about the bush here, and no mincing of phrases. The
matter is at once probed with the needle.
Evelyn was not merely a rather notable person in the London society of
that period. As a man of science he was one of the most prominent
pillars of the then recently founded Royal Society. As an official he
was His Majesty's Commissioner for improving the streets and buildings
of London, in addition to various other particular duties. But
finally,--and, at the same time, first of all, if it be permissible to
emphasise the fact in so paradoxical a manner--he was a courtier; and
that at a time when expressions of loyalty to His Gracious Majesty,
King Charles II., were somewhat too highly coloured, too servile and
sycophantic, to suit our modern taste.
This short work _Fumifugium_, really only a pamphlet, was therefore
dedicated to the King in language of the period extravagant in the
highest degree, though eminently typical of the Royalists during the
early days of the Restoration. The treatise was thus occasioned:-- 'It
was one day, as I was Walking in Your Majesty's Palace at White-Hall
(where I have sometimes the honour to refresh myself with the Sight of
Your Illustrious Presence, which is the Joy of Your Peoples hearts) that
a presumptuous Smoak issuing from one or two tunnels near
_Northumberland House_, and not far from _Scotland-yard_ did so invade
the Court; that all the Rooms, Galleries, and Places about it were
fill'd and infested with it; and that to such a degree, as Men could
hardly discern one another from the Clowd, and none could support,
without manifest Inconveniency. It was not this which did first suggest
to me what I had long since conceived against this pernicious Accident,
upon frequent observation; But it was this alone, and the trouble that
it must needs procure to Your Sacred Majesty, as well as hazzard to Your
Health, which kindled this Indignation of mine against it, and was the
occasion of what it has produc'd in these Papers.
Sir, I prepare in this short Discourse an expedient how this pernicious
_Nuisance_ may be reformed; and offer at another also, by which the
_Aer_ may not only be freed from the present Inconveniency; but (that
remov'd) to render not only Your Majesties Palace, but the whole City
likewise, one of the sweetest, and most delicious Habitations in the
World; and this, with little or no expence; but by improving those
Plantations which Your Majesty so laudably affects, in the moyst,
depressed and marshy grounds about the Town, to the Culture and
production of such things, as upon every gentle emission through the
_Aer_, should so perfume the adjacent places with their breath; as if,
by a certain charm, or innocent _Magick_, they were transferred to that
part of _Arabia_, which is therefore styled the _Happy_, because it is
amongst the Gums and precious spices.'
Objectionable cottages had thus apparently only recently, probably
during the democratic Commonwealth, been erected to the east of
Whitehall, and were surrounded by fields. These fields were to be
divided into blocks of about 20 to 40 acres, and palisades or fences of
shrubs were to enclose belts of 150 feet or more between the various
fields. The fences were to be formed or filled with sweetbriar,
periclymena, woodbine, jessamine, syringa, guelder-rose, musk and other
roses, broom, juniper, lavender, and so on,--'but above all _Rosemary_,
the _Flowers_ whereof are credibly reported to give their sent above
thirty Leagues off at Sea, upon the coasts of Spain. Those who take
notice of the Sent of the _Orange_-flowers from the Rivage of Genöa, and
_St. Pietro dell' Arena_; the Blosomes of _Rosemary_ from the Coasts of
_Spain_ many leagues off at Sea; or the manifest and odoriferous wafts
which flow from _Fontenoy_ and _Vaugirard_, even to _Paris_ in the
season of _Roses_, with the contrary Effects of those less pleasing
smells from other accidents, will easily consent to what I suggest: And,
I am able to enumerate a Catalogue of native _Plants_, and such as are
familiar to our Country and Clime, whose redolent and agreeable
Emissions would even ravish our senses, as well as perfectly improve the
_Aer_ about _London_; and that, without the least prejudice to the
Owners and Proprietors of the Land to be employ'd about it.' Evelyn
further recommended 'That the _Spaces_, or _Area_ between these
_Pallisads_, and _Fences_, be employ'd in Beds and Bordures of _Pinks_,
_Carnations_, _Clove_, _Stock-gilly-flower_, _Primroses_, _Auriculas_,
_Violets_, not forgetting the _White_, which are in flower twice a year,
_April_ and _August_; _Cowslips_, _Lillies_, _Narcissus_,
_Strawberries_, whose very leaves as well as fruit, emit a _Cardiague_,
and most refreshing _Halitus_: also _Parietria Lutea_, _Musk_, _Lemmon_,
and _Mastick_: _Thyme_, _Spike_, _Cammomile_, _Balm_, _Mint_,
_Marjoram_, _Pimpernel_, _Serpillum_, etc., which upon the least
pressure and cutting, breathe out and betray their ravishing Odors.'
Plantations of trees were also to be made and nurseries formed, which
would have the additional advantage, besides mere beauty and ornament,
of providing for the fields--'better Shelter, and Pasture for Sheep and
Cattel then now; that they lie bleak, expos'd and abandon'd to the
winds, which perpetually invade them.' It is said that the planting of
Lime trees in St. James' Park was due to these suggestions. Evelyn's
recommendations concluded with the exhorting that 'the further
exhorbitant encrease of _Tenements_, poor and nasty _Cottages_ near the
City, be prohibited, which disgrace and take off from the sweetness and
amoenity of the Environs of _London_, and are already become a great
_Eye-sore_ in the grounds opposite to _His Majesty's Palace_ of
_White-hall_; which being converted to this use, might yield a diversion
inferior to none that could be imagin'd for _Health_, _Profit_, and
_Beauty_, which are the three _Transcendencies_ that render a place
without all exception. And _this_ is what (in short) I had to offer, for
the _Improvement_ and _Melioration_ of the _Aer_ about _London_, and
with which I shall conclude this discourse.'
Besides dedicating his pamphlet especially to the King, as well as
proposing, on the title-page, the remedy "To His Sacred Majestie, and To
the Parliament now Assembled", Evelyn likewise adresses himself "To the
Reader" by way of a second introduction; and he does so in these plainer
and rather contemptuous terms:-- 'I have little here to add to implore
thy good opinion and approbation, after I have submitted this Essay to
his Sacred Majesty: But as it is of universal benefit that I propound
it; so I expect a civil entertainment and reception....' Confessing
himself 'frequently displeased at the small advance and improvement of
Publick Works in this nation,' he further expresses himself as
'extremely amazed, that where there is so great affluence of all things
which may render the People of this vast City the most happy upon Earth;
the sordid and accursed Avarice of some few Particular Persons should be
suffered to prejudice the health and felicity of so many: That any
Profit (besides what is absolute necessity) should render men
regardlesse of what chiefly imports them, when it may be purchased upon
so easie conditions, and with so great advantages: For it is not
happiness to possesse Gold, but to enjoy the Effects of it and to know
how to live cheerfully and in health, _Non est vivere, sed valere vita_.
That men whose very Being is _Aer_, should not breath it freely when
they may; but (as that _Tyrant_ us'd his Vassals) condemn themselves to
this misery and _Fumo præfocari_, is strange stupidity: yet thus we see
them walk and converse in _London_, pursu'd and haunted by that
infernal Smoake, and the funest accidents which accompany it wheresoever
they retire.'
Surely, if John Evelyn could in spirit revisit the metropolis he loved
so well and was so much at home in, he would, while lamenting the
continuation and the now much more acute form of the "infernal
_Nuisance_", to a certainty find ample cause for rejoicing at the
admirable work of late years carried out in the London Royal Parks and
Pleasure Grounds, and in the Parks and Open Spaces under the
administration of the County Council.
It was in 1664, however, that Evelyn achieved his greatest literary
triumph by the publication of his three masterpieces, _Sylva: or a
Discourse of Forest Trees, and the Propagation of Timber in His
Majestie's Dominions_; _Pomona: or an Appendix concerning Fruit Trees in
relation to Cider, the Making and several ways of Ordering it_; and
_Kalendarium Hortense: or the Gard'ners Almanack, directing what he is
to do Monthly throughout the Year_.'
The manner in which the idea of the _Sylva_ originated is clearly shewn
by what is noted in his Diary on 15th October, 1662.--'I this day
deliver'd my "Discourse concerning Forest Trees" to the Society, upon
occasion of certain queries sent to us by the Commissioners of his
Majesties Navy, being the first booke that was printed by order of the
Society, and by their printer, since it was a Corporation.' This latter
reference evidently anticipates events, as one often had reason to note
in this so-called diary, because Sylva was not actually published until
the beginning of 1664, when along with it were included _Pomona_, and
the _Kalendarium Hortense_. In February, 1664, '16th, I presented my
"Sylva" to the Society; and next day to his Majestie, to whom it was
dedicated; also to the Lord Treasurer and the Lord Chancellor.'
There is no doubt that _Sylva_ was a work of national importance. Then,
as now, England was dependent on her Navy. But the stock of Oak timber
suitable for the requirements of the naval dockyards had become almost
exhausted. From a tonnage of 17,110 tons in 1603, our fleet had risen to
57,463 tons in 1660, and during the 25 years of Charles II's reign it
increased to 103,556 tons. To supply these rapidly expanding
requirements the stock of timber in the country was feared to be
inadequate. From 197,405, loads of timber fit for the Navy in the New
Forest in 1608, the stock sank later to 19,873 in 1707; and in the royal
forests in Gloucestershire a similar state of affairs obtained. At a
meeting of the Council of the Royal Society in November 1662, Evelyn
followed up his recent _Sylva_ by suggesting a discourse 'concerning
planting his Majesty's Forest of Deane with oake, now so much exhausted,
of ye choicest ship-timber in the world.' This was before the days of
steam or even of macadamized roads, when we had to grow our own supplies
of food and Navy timber. True, oak for wainscoting and the like had long
been imported from the Continent; but if we had been anything like
dependent on foreign oak, the Dutch War which shortly afterwards broke
out would probably have cut off the same entirely from reaching our
ports.
It is unnecessary to say much about this charming classic of Forestry,
of whose various excellences the reader can herein judge for himself.
Gracefully written in nervous English and in a cultured style, ornately
embellished according to the then prevailing custom by apt quotations
from the Latin poets, it contains an enormous amount of information in
the shape of legends and of facts ascertained by travel, of observation,
and of experience. No man of his time could possibly have been better
qualified than Evelyn for undertaking the special duty laid upon him;
and he carried out his task in a brilliant manner. _Sylva_ soon ran into
several editions. The fourth edition appeared in the year of his death
(1706) and a fifth in 1729. From 1776 to 1812 other four editions were
published, with notes by Dr. A. Hunter of York, the last of which served
as the text for the celebrated forestry article in the _Quarterly
Review_ for March, 1813. A later issue of Hunter's editions appeared in
1825; but in 1827 ignorant and wanton hands were with much bombastic
language and buffoonry laid on this great classic, when James Mitchell,
an agriculturist, published _Dendrologia; or a Treatise of Forest Trees,
with Evelyn's Silva, revised, corrected, and abridged by a Professional
Planter and Collector of practical Notes forty years_. Since then no
other edition of _Sylva_ has appeared until the present reprint of the
4th edition, making the 12th edition of this classic work.
The publication of _Sylva_ gave an enormous stimulus to planting in
Britain, the benefits from which were subsequently reaped at the end of
the XVIII and the beginning of the XIX century, when during our war with
France the supply of oak timber for shipbuilding almost entirely ran
out. Dr. Hunter's editions did much to revive the ardour for planting,
which was further stimulated by the _Quarterly Review_ article and by
the advice which Sir Walter Scott put into the mouth of the Laird o'
Dumbiedykes to his son: 'Jock, when ye hae naething else to do, ye may
be aye sticking in a tree; it will be growing, Jock, when ye're
sleeping.' To the impetus then given to planting, many of the woods now
growing in different parts of Britain, and especially in Scotland, owe
their origin.
As Evelyn had given the copyright to Allestry, the Royal Society's
printer, _Sylva_ brought no pecuniary profit to its author; and
indirectly it was the cause of disappointment to him. How this came
about may be seen from the following extract from a letter, dated 4th
August 1690, to his friend the Countess of Sunderland, which is further
of interest as giving Evelyn's own account of the origin of
_Sylva_--'when many yeares ago I came from rambling abroad, observ'd a
little time there, and a greate deale more since I came home than gave
me much satisfaction, and (as events have prov'd) scarce worth one's
pursuite, I cast about how I should employ the time which hangs on most
young men's hands, to the best advantage; and when books and severer
studies grew tedious, and other impertinence would be pressing, by which
innocent diversions I might sometime relieve my selfe without complyance
to recreations I took no felicity in, because they did not contribute to
any improvement of the mind. This set me upon planting of trees, and
brought forth my "Sylva," which booke, infinitely beyond my expectation,
is now also calling for a fourth impression, and has been the occasion
of propagating many millions of usefull timber trees thro'out this
nation, as I may justifie (without im'odesty) from ye many letters of
acknowledgement receiv'd from gentlemen of the first quality, and others
altogether strangers to me. His late Majesty Charles the 2nd. was
sometimes graciously pleas'd to take notice of it to me, and that I had
by that booke alone incited a world of planters to repaire their broken
estates and woodes, which the greedy rebells had wasted and made much
havock of. Upon this encouragement I was once speaking to a mighty man,
then in despotic power, to mention the greate inclination I had to serve
his Majesty in a little office then newly vacant (the salary I think
hardly £300) whose province was to inspect the timber trees in his
Majesties Forests, etc., and take care of their culture and improvement;
but this was conferr'd upon another who, I believe, had seldom been out
of the smoake of London, where though there was a greate deale of
timber, there were not many trees. I confesse I had an inclination to
the imployment upon a publique account as well as its being suitable to
my rural genius, borne as I was at Wotton, among the woods.'
A still greater success was achieved by the _Kalendarium Hortense_,
which reached its tenth edition (1706) during Evelyn's lifetime, and of
which two reprints have subsequently been made. This small work was the
forerunner of the more modern books on English gardening, the names of
which are now almost legion.
Previous to this, _Sculptura: or the History and Art of Chalcography and
Engraving in Copper and Mezzo-tinto_, had been published in 1662, being
the first work on this subject that had appeared in England. But it was
a poor production, and ran into no second edition while the author
lived. His chief subsequent literary successes were _Terra: a
Philosophical Discourse of Earth relating to the Culture and Improvement
of it for Vegetation, and for the Propagation of Plants_, (1676), which
was first read before the Royal Society on 29th April 1675, and of which
the third edition was printed in 1706, and _The Compleat Gardiner, or
Directions for cultivating and right ordering of Fruit Gardens and
Kitchen Gardens; with divers Reflections on several parts of Husbandry_,
(1693), which went into five editions by 1710. His History of the Dutch
War, already referred to (page xliii) would have been by far his most
important work in point of length had its completion been allowed, but
only the introductory portion saw the light as _Navigation and Commerce;
their Original and Progress, Containing a succint account of Traffick
in general; etc. etc...... to the beginning of our late differences with
Holland; in which his Majesties title to the Dominion of the Sea is
asserted against the Novel and later Pretenders_. (1674). His own
account of the stoppage of the work is given in the diary for 19th
August 1674,--'His Majesty told me how exceedingly the Dutch were
displeas'd at my treatise of the "Historie of Commerce;" that the
Holland Ambassador had complain'd to him of what I had touch'd of the
Flags and Fishery, etc., and desired the booke might be call'd in;
whilst on the other side he assur'd me he was exceedingly pleas'd with
what I had done, and gave me many thanks. However, it being just upon
conclusion of the treaty of Breda (indeed it was design'd to have been
publish'd some moneths before and when we were at defiance), his Majesty
told me he must recall it formally, but gave order that what copies
should be publiqly seiz'd to pacifie the Ambassador, should immediately
be restor'd to the printer, and that neither he nor the vendor should be
molested. The truth is, that which touch'd the Hollander was much lesse
than what the King himself furnish'd me with, and oblig'd me to publish,
having caus'd it to be read to him before it went to the presse; but the
error was, it should have been publish'd before the peace was
proclaim'd. The noise of this book's suppression made it presently be
bought up, and turn'd much to the stationer's advantage. It was no other
than the Preface prepar'd to be prefix'd to my History of the whole
Warr; which I now pursued no further.' Years afterwards, however, he
wrote somewhat bitterly on this subject to his intimate friend Pepys, in
a letter dated 28th April 1682, in which he says, 'In sum, I had no
thanks for what I had done, and have been accounted since, I suppose, an
useless fop, and fit only to plant coleworts, and I cannot bend to mean
submissions; and this, Sir, is the history of the Historian. I confess
to you, I had once the vanity to hope, had my patron continued in his
station, for some, at least, honorary title that might have animated my
progress, as seeing then some amongst them whose talents I did not envy:
but it was not my fortune to succeed.' This certainly seems as if Evelyn
had been hoping for knighthood from King Charles. If his desire lay this
way, it is difficult to reconcile such private admission with the
definite statement made in the diary of 19th April, 1661, that 'he might
have receiv'd this honour,' of Knighthood of the Bath 'but declined it.'
Evelyn's other publications, works of considerably less importance,
include _Tyrannus or the Mode, in a Discourse of Sumptuary Laws_ (1661);
_A Parallel of the Ancient Architecture with the Modern_ (1664), and _An
Idea of the Perfection of Painting, Demonstrated from the Principles of
Art_ (1668), both translated from the French of Roland Freart; _Another
Part of the Mystery of Jesuitisim_, also from the French (1665);
_Publick Employment, and an Active Life preferr'd to Solitude_ (1667: a
reply to Sir George Mackenzie's Work on Solitude); _The History of three
late famous Imposters_ (Padre Ottomano, Mahomed Bei, and Sabatei Sevi:
1669); _Mundus Muliebris: or the Ladies Dressing-room Unlock'd and her
Toilette spread_ (1690: a burlesque poem, 'A voyage to Marryland,'
cataloguing female follies of the time, by his daughter Mary, who died
in 1685); _Numismata: a Discourse of Medals, Antient and Modern: &c._
(1697); and _Acetaria: a Discourse of Sallets_ (1699), which was merely
a chapter, written many years previously, of an extensive work he
intended writing under the comprehensive title of _Elysium Britannicum_.
There is no doubt that, but for his immersion in public affairs in
middle life, Evelyn would have been a much larger producer of literary
work than he actually was. But it seems very questionable if this would
in any substantial way have added to the enduring reputation he won for
himself by _Sylva_.
In addition to his published works, however, he left numerous
manuscripts, which he had noted as 'Things I would write out faire and
reform if I had leisure,' comprising poems, mathematical papers,
religious meditations, and biographies. The most ambitious of his poems
is _Thyrsander, a Tragy-Comedy_, which is probably one of those referred
to by Pepys in his Diary for 5th Novr. 1665, when, visiting Evelyn at
Sayes Court, he says that 'He read me part of a play or two of his
making, very good, but not as he conceits them, I think, to be.' Some of
these, including _My own Ephemeris or Diarie_, an autobiographical
memoir based on the journal or common-place book kept by him ever since
being eleven years of age, and his correspondence, were published
posthumously as _Memoirs illustrative of the Life and Writings of John
Evelyn Esqre. F.R.S._ in 1818. This has gone through nine editions and
reprints; and it affords, along with Pepys' diary, one of the best views
of the life of those times. Each is the complement of the other, and the
only matter of regret is that the original manuscript of Evelyn's actual
diary has not hitherto been forthcoming, as it would be infinitely
preferable to the compilation he made therefrom, which often refers to
future events. Other of his MSS. appeared as _Miscellaneous Writings of
John Evelyn Esq. F.R.S._ in 1825, _The Life of Mrs. Godolphin_ (see page
xlv) in 1847, and subsequently in five or six editions and reprints, and
_The History of Religion: A Rational Account of the True Religion_ in
1850. Of these the so-called _Diary_ is by far the most interesting and
important, and it is on it and on the _Sylva_ that his literary
reputation rests and has a sure and abiding foundation.
VIII
_Evelyn's Influence on British Arboriculture._
There can be no doubt that John Evelyn, both during his own lifetime and
throughout the two centuries which have elapsed since his death in 1706,
has exerted more individual influence, through his charming _Sylva, or a
Discourse of Forest Trees and the Propagation of Timber in His Majesty's
Dominion_ (first published in 1664) than can be ascribed to any other
individual. The attention drawn to the subject of Arboriculture by Dr.
Hunter towards the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the
nineteenth centuries was in connection with several new editions of that
classic work, while the impulse given to the formation of large
plantations between 1800 and 1830 by Sir Walter Scott and the celebrated
_Quarterly Review_ articles was connected very closely indeed with the
appearance of fresh editions of _Sylva_.
It is easy to understand the success of Evelyn's work and the influence
he exerted on British Arboriculture. First and foremost, he held the
brief in an excellent cause, because the maintenance of adequate
supplies of oak timber for shipbuilding ever remained a question of
very serious national importance right down to the time when this
pressure was removed by the introduction of steam communication and the
use of Indian Teak and subsequently of iron for purposes of
construction. Then again, his position as a courtier and a country
gentleman, and as one of the most prominent members of the recently
established Royal Society, gave him a much higher degree of prominence
than such adventitious aids would ensure in our present far more
democratic days. Finally, he had no small confidence in his own ability
('conceit' his friend Mr. Samuel Pepys calls it in his diary); and this
has been recognised in the numerous editions of _Sylva_ that have from
time to time been found worthy of publication.
Although by far the most celebrated of English writers on Arboriculture,
Evelyn was by no means the first who wrote on this subject. That honour
belongs to Master Fitzherbert, whose _Boke of Husbandrie_ was published
in 1534. But it is a curious fact that the most important previous
contribution towards the propagation of timber--leaving Manwood's
_Treatise of the Forrest Lawes_ (1598) out of consideration--is
apparently never mentioned by Evelyn. This was a small booklet of 34
pages, a mere pamphlet in size, published in 1613 by Arthur Standish and
entitled _New Directions of Experience ... for the Increasing of Timber
and Firewood_. In this, Standish strongly urged sowing and planting on
an extensive scale; and the pamphlet was so highly approved by King
James I., that in 1615 a second edition was issued. This included, among
the prefatory matters, a royal proclamation 'By the King, To all
Noblemen, Gentlemen, and other our loving Subjects, to whom it may
appertaine,' which set forth the 'severall good projects for the
increasing of Woods' and recommended them to 'be willingly received and
put in practise' with a view to restore the decay of timber 'universally
complained of' within the realm.
Although exhortations and royal proclamations had previously been issued
more than once by James I. relative to the 'storing' of timber trees
when falls were being made in copsewoods, and generally to ensure better
effect being given to the intentions of Henry VIII's _Statute of Woods_
of 1543, as amended during Queen Elizabeth's reign (in 1570), yet
Standish's treatise was the first occasion (so far as I have been able
to discover) on which a private subject had endeavoured to stimulate the
progress of British Forestry by means of the publication of his views in
the form of a small book. His aims and objects are thus described on the
title-page of the second or royal edition of 1615:--"NEW DIRECTIONS OF
EXPERIENCE AUTHORIZED BY THE King's most excellent Majesty, as may
appeare, for the increasing of Timber and Fire-wood, with the least
waste and losse of ground. WITH A NEARE ESTIMATION, what millions of
acres the Kingdome doth containe; what acres is waste ground, wherever
little profit for this purpose will arise--which waste being deducted,
the remaine is twenty-five millions; forth of which millions, if two
hundred and forty thousand Acres be planted and preserved according to
the directions following, which is but the hundred part of the
twenty-five millions, there may be as much timber raised, as will
maintaine the Kingdome for all uses for ever. And how as great store of
Fire-wood may be raised, forth of hedges, as may plentifully mainetaine
the Kingdome for all purposes, without losse of ground; so as within
thirty years all Spring-woods{lxvii:1} may be converted to Tillage and
Pasture. By Arthur Standish. Anno Domini MDCXV."
This was the only work of the sort which had been published up to the
time of Evelyn's _Sylva_ appearing about fifty years later, in 1662. It
is curious that he made no reference to this work written with similar
objects to those he himself had in view. Another work, however, he does
mention, evidently that of a practical horticulturist and
arboriculturist, probably belonging to a lower status of society than
himself. Writing of the _New Orchard and Garden_ (1597, 2nd. edit.
1623), he patronises the author by calling him 'our countryman honest
Lawson'; and after giving a long quotation from it with regard to
pruning, he complacently concludes by adding 'Thus far the good man out
of his eight and forty years experience concerning timber-trees.'
Evelyn had the satisfaction of seeing his work bear much fruit during
his own life-time, and this must have occasioned a quite exceptionally
keen pleasure to a man of his disposition. In his preface, dated 5
December 1678, to the fourth edition of _Sylva_, he writes in 'The
Epistle Dedicatory' to the King that 'I need not acquaint your Majesty
how many millions of timber-trees, besides infinite others, have been
propagated and planted throughout your vast dominions, at the
instigation, and by the sole directions of this work; because your
gracious Majesty had been pleased to own it publickly for my
encouragement, who in all that I here pretend to say, deliver only those
precepts which your Majesty has put in practise; as having, like another
Cyrus, by your own royal example, exceeded all your predecessors in the
plantations you have made, beyond, I dare assert it, all the Monarchs of
this nation, since the conquest of it.'
Apart from the planting done in the royal woods and forests, details of
Evelyn's diary shew that he was frequently called upon to give advice
with regard to laying out private plantations,--as well as of ornamental
gardens, on which subject he was also considered one of the leading
authorities of the time.
More than a century after Evelyn's death, during the time of our wars
with France, the demand for timber and the serious outlook with regard
to future supplies once more drew marked attention to the propagation of
timber throughout Britain, and many plantations of oak were then made
which have not yet been entirely cleared to make way for other and now
more profitable crops of wood. A very decided impetus was given in this
direction by the re-publication of the text of the fourth edition of
_Sylva_ (as finally revised by the author in 1678), with copious notes
by Dr. A. Hunter F.R.S. in 1812. A most appreciative and favourable
review of this work is contained in the _Quarterly Review_ for March
1813 (Vol. ix), which was of much assistance in drawing the attention of
our great landowners to the advantages of growing timber. Plantations
could then be made at about one-fourth to one-third (and often less than
that) of what it now costs to make them, while the market for timber and
wood of all sorts was then favourable, with a steady demand likely to
increase as time rolled on and the national commerce and industries
expanded,--because in those days the economic revolution, accomplished
through the subsequent discoveries of the great uses to which steam and
iron are now put, were not then dreamed of.
This _Quarterly Review_ article was an appreciation of Evelyn,--and not
the only one made by that celebrated periodical, as we shall see
presently. It traced the history of the work, showing how Charles II.
'was too sensible a man to think of compelling his subjects to plant, by
fines and forfeitures for the omission. Example he knew would do
something, and he had scope enough for the purpose in his own wasted
forests; but an animated exhortation from the press, in an age when the
nobility and gentry began to read and to reflect, he knew would do more.
A proper person for the purpose therefore was sought and found; a man of
family, fortune, and learning; an experienced planter; a virtuoso, and
not a little of an enthusiast in his own walk. Such was Mr. Evelyn: and
to this occasion we are indebted for the _Sylva_, which has therefore a
title to be regarded as a national work... It sounded the trumpet of
alarm to the nation on the condition of their woods and forests.'
The re-publication of the _Sylva_ by Dr. Hunter, coming at an
appropriate moment, revived the ardour which the work had excited about
60 years previously, and 'while forests were laid prostrate to protect
our shores from the insults of the enemy, the nobility and gentry began
once more to sow the seeds of future navies.'
Previous to 1812, planting on any large scale whether for profit or
ornament seems to have been confined chiefly to great estates, and 'if a
private gentleman, in the century preceding, planted an hedgrow of an
hundred oaks, it was recorded, for the benefit of posterity, in his
diary.' The trade in the supply of plants had previously been in the
hands of a few nurserymen, but on the appearance of Dr. Hunter's new
edition many private nurseries were established. This was more
especially the case in Scotland, where the Scottish nobility took the
lead 'in this national and patriotic work,'--which promised to be very
profitable, owing to the recent introduction of the larch. The
well-deserved eulogy given in the _Quarterly Review_ article to the
rapid growth of fine timber of this valuable forest tree was the direct
cause of larch plantations being largely extended, because it was said
that 'a tree which, if the oak should fail, would build navies, and if
the forests of Livonia or Norway or Canada were exhausted, would build
cities, is an acquisition to this island almost without a parallel.' And
it still is one of the most valuable of our woodland trees, despite the
cankerous fungus-disease which has certainly been (indirectly) due in no
small degree to injudicious planting in pure woods on unsuitable soils
and situations.
This _Quarterly Review_ article of 1813 probably did quite as much to
stimulate planting throughout Great Britain as the _Sylva_ itself had
previously done; but as Evelyn's classic formed the text for the
exhortation, the beneficial effects must of course in great part be
ascribed to his influence.
A few years later, the _Quarterly Review_ in an article on Evelyn's
_Memoirs_ (April, 1818), again sings the well-deserved praise of his
influence on British Arboriculture. 'The greater part of the woods,
which were raised in consequence of Evelyn's writings, have been cut
down: the oaks have borne the British flag to seas and countries which
were undiscovered when they were planted, and generation after
generation has been coffined in the elms. The trees of his age, which
may yet be standing, are verging fast toward their decay and
dissolution: but his name is fresh in the land, and his reputation, like
the trees of an Indian Paradise, exists and will continue to exist in
full strength and beauty, uninjured by the course of time.
Thrones fall and Dynasties are changed:
Empires decay and sink
Beneath their own unwieldy weight;
Dominion passeth like a cloud away.
The imperishable mind
Survives all meaner things.
No change of fashion, no alteration of taste, no revolutions of science
have impaired or can impair his celebrity.'
Another of the celebrated _Quarterly Review_ articles on Forestry is that
_On Planting Waste Lands_ (October, 1827); and even though it was Robert
Monteath's _Foresters Guide and Profitable Planter_ which furnished the
peg for a discourse on this occasion, still the spirit breathing
throughout the exhortion was the revivification of Evelyn's influence. And
the same must also be said about the article on _Loudon's 'Trees and
Shrubs'_ (_Quarterly Review_; October, 1838), which opens with a eulogy of
our great English enthusiast of Arboriculture. 'The good and peaceful John
Evelyn was a great benefactor to England. He was a country gentleman of
independent fortune; he held an office under Government; and was
personally familiar with Charles II. and James II; yet, in spite of the
influence which he then possessed, his example effected little for his
favourite object till the publication of the _Sylva_. Half the charm of
this work lies in his contriving to make us feel interested about his
trees; he gossips about them, he tells us where they came from and what
they are used for, and has a few marvels--not of his own--but told with
such perfect good faith that we can hardly help believing them with him.
This was the secret by which he managed to attract the attention of even
the wits and gallants of 'the gay court;' and thus it was that he gave an
impulse to planting those 'goodly woods and forests,' the absence of
which, in his own time, he so feelingly laments, and which now crown our
hills and enrich our valleys. Mr. Loudon has followed Evelyn's track.
Tradition--history--poetry--anecdote enliven his pages; the reader soon
feels as if his instructor were a good natured and entertaining friend. He
has also not contented himself with merely recalling old favourites to our
memory, but has introduced to us numerous agreeable foreigners whose
acquaintance we ought to rejoice to make, since by their aid we may hope,
in the course of another half century, to see our woods and plantations
presenting the richness and variety of the American autumns, the trees
which produce those 'lovely tints of scarlet and of gold,' of which
travellers tell us, are all to be obtained at moderate cost in every
nursery; and that they will thrive perfectly in this country Fonthill and
White Knights bear ample testimony.'
Hardly anything can well be added to the above testimony regarding
Evelyn's influence on Arboriculture throughout the British Isles.
Economic conditions have changed entirely since his time, but the spirit
living and breathing in _Sylva_ is still that which is found
influencing many of our great landowners. And it is an influence which
cannot be indicated in any mere enumeration of the number of trees
planted or of acres enclosed as woodlands either for purposes of profit
or of ornament.
Far more is, of course, now known with regard to the physiology and the
natural requirements of our forest trees--e.g. with reference to soil
and situation, demand for light and capacity of enduring shade,
etc.,--than was known in Evelyn's time. Many of his arguments could
easily be shown to be wrong, and many of his recommendations could
equally easily be proved to be inefficacious and inexpedient, just as
old works on Agriculture can no longer be accepted as trustworthy
text-books for the teaching of modern farming; because Vegetable
Physiology forms the true and scientific basis of both the arts relating
to the cultivation of the soil, Agriculture and Forestry; and Vegetable
Physiology is a branch of botanical science which is only of
comparatively recent growth.
Many works on Sylviculture or Forestry, on business principles, have
appeared in England and Scotland within the last fifteen years, but this
new edition of _Sylva_ makes no pretence to belong to such an up-to-date
class of works. It is merely a reprint of the last edition that was
revised by Evelyn himself; and no notes of any description have been
added, such as those to be found in the several editions published by
Dr. Hunter. The present reprint is intended for those who love our
forests and woodlands and the old trees surviving in parks and chases as
links with the distant past; and it will also, for its own sake, appeal
no less strongly to those who love to peruse a classic work, written in
the very highly polished and ornate style affected by writers of
distinction in the seventeenth century.
JOHN NISBET.
FOOTNOTES:
{xxxi:1} This promise Charles afterwards failed to keep as, in 1672, he
merely renewed the lease of the pastures for 99 years.
{lxvii:1} Coppices.
S I L V A,
Or a DISCOURSE of
FOREST-TREES,
AND THE
PROPAGATION of TIMBER
In His MAJESTY's DOMINIONS.
As it was Deliver'd in the _ROYAL SOCIETY_ the xv^th of _October_,
MDCLXII upon occasion of certain _Quæries_ propounded to that
_Illustrious Assembly_, by the _Honourable_ the Principal
_Officers_ and _Commissioners_ of the _Navy_.
In TWO BOOKS.
Together with an Historical Account of the _Sacredness_ and _Use_
of Standing _Groves_.
TERRA,
A _Philosophical ESSAY of EARTH_, being a _Lecture_ in Course.
To which is annexed
POMONA:
OR, AN
_Appendix_ concerning _Fruit-Trees_, in relation to _CYDER_;
The _Making_, and several Ways of _Ordering_ it.
Published by Express _Order_ of the ROYAL SOCIETY.
ALSO
ACETARIA:
Or, a DISCOURSE of _SALLETS_.
WITH
_KALENDARIVM HORTENSE_;
OR THE
GARD'NERS ALMANACK;
Directing what he is to do _Monthly_ throughout the _Year_.
* * * * *
All which several _Treatises_ are in this _FOURTH EDITION_ much
_Inlarg'd_ and _Improv'd_,
By the AUTHOR
_JOHN EVELYN_, Esq; Fellow of the _ROYAL SOCIETY_
* * * * *
........_Tibi res antiquae laudis & artis
Ingredior, tantos ausus recludere fontes._ Virg.
* * * * *
_LONDON_:
Printed for _Robert Scott_ in _Little-Britain_; _Richard Chiswell_ in
St. _Paul's_ Churchyard; _George Sawbridge_ in _Little-Britain_; and
_Benj. Tooke_ in _Fleetstreet_. MDCCVI.
TO THE
KING.
For to whom, _Sir_, with so Just and Equal Right should I present the
Fruits of my Labours, as to the _Patron_ of that _SOCIETY_, under whose
_Influence_, as it was produced; so to whose _Auspices_ alone it owes the
Favourable _Acceptance_ which it has receiv'd in the World? To You then
(_Royal Sir_) does this _Third Edition_ continue its Humble Addresses,
_Tanquam MEMORUM VINDICI_; as of old, they paid their Devotions,{lxxv:1}
_HERCULI & SILVANO_; since You are our +Theos hylikos+ _Nemorensis Rex_;
as having once Your _Temple_, and _Court_ too, under that _Sacred Oak_
which You _Consecrated_ with Your _Presence_, and we _Celebrate_, with
Just Acknowledgment to God for Your _Preservation_.
I need not Aquaint Your _Majesty_, how many _Millions_ of _Timber-Trees_
(beside infinite _others_) have been _Propagated_ and _Planted_ throughout
Your vast _Dominions_, at the _Instigation_, and by the sole _Direction_
of this _Work_; because Your _Gracious Majesty_, has been pleas'd to _own_
it _Publickly_, for my _Encouragement_, who, in all that I here pretend to
say, deliver only those _Precepts_ which Your _Majesty_ has put into
_Practice_; as having (like another _Cyrus_) by Your own _Royal Example_,
exceeded all your _Predecessors_ in the _Plantations_ You have made,
beyond (I dare assert it) all the _Monarchs_ of this _Nation_, since the
_Conquest_ of it. And, indeed what more _August_, what more _Worthy_ Your
_Majesty_, or more becoming our _Imitation?_ than whilst You are thus
solicitous for the _Publick Good_, we pursue Your _Majesty's_ Great
_Example_; and by cultivating our decaying _Woods_, contribute to Your
_Power_, as to Your greatest _Wealth_ and _Safety_; since whilst Your
_Majesty_ is furnish'd to send forth those _Argo's_ and _Trojan
Horses_,{lxxvi:1} about this Happy _Island_, we are to fear nothing from
_without it_; and whilst we remain _Obedient_ to Your just _Commands_,
nothing from _within_ it.
'Tis now some _Years_ past that Your _Majesty_ was pleas'd to declare Your
Favourable Acceptance of a _Treatise_ of _Architecture_ which I then
presented to _You_, with many _Gracious Expressions_, and that it was a
most _useful_ Piece. _Sir_, that _Encouragement_ (together with the
_Success_ of the _Book_ it self, and of the former _Editions_ of _this_)
has animated me still to continue my _Oblation_ to Your _Majesty_ of these
_Improvements_: Nor was it certainly without some _Provident_ Conduct,
that we have been thus solicitous to begin, as it were, with _Materials_
for Building, and _Directions_ to _Builders_; if due Reflection be made on
that Deplorable _Calamity_, the _Conflagration_ of Your _Imperial City_;
which nevertheless, by the Blessing of _God_, and Your _Majesty's_
Gracious _Influence_, we have seen _Rise_ again, a _New_, and much more
_Glorious_ PHOENIX.
This TRIBUTE I now once more lay at the _Feet_ of our ROYAL FOUNDER.
May Your _Majesty_ be pleas'd to be Invok'd by that no _Inglorious_ TITLE,
in the profoundest _Submission_ of
Gracious Sir,
Your _Majesty's_
Ever _Loyal_, most _Obedient_ and
_Faithful Subject_ and _Servant_,
J. EVELYN.
_Sayes-Court,
5 Decemb.
1678._
FOOTNOTES:
{lxxv:1} Cato _de R. R. cap. 73._ Aurel. Vict. Class. Phil. apud.
Tranquill. _And so_ Nemestinus Deus Nemorum. _Arnob. l. 4._
{lxxvi:1} Argon, _lib._ 1. That Famous Ship built of the _Dodonaean_
Oak.
TO THE
READER.
After what the _Frontispiece_ and _Porch_ this _Wooden Edifice_ presents
you, I shall need no farther to repeat the _Occasion_ of this following
_Discourse_; I am only to acquaint you, That as it was delivered to the
_Royal Society_ by an unworthy _Member_ thereof, in Obedience to their
_Commands_; by the _same_ it is now _Re-publish'd_ without any farther
Prospect: And the _Reader_ is to know, That if these dry _sticks_ afford
him any _Sap_, it is one of the _least_ and _meanest_ of those _Pieces_
which are every day produc'd by that _Illustrious Assembly_, and which
enrich their _Collections_, as so many _Monuments_ of their accurate
_Experiments_, and publick Endeavours, in order to the production of
_real_ and _useful Theories_, the Propagation and Improvement of
_Natural Science_, and the honour of their _Institution_. If to _this_
there be any thing subjoyned _here_, which may a while bespeak the
Patience of the _Reader_, it is only for the encouragement of an
_Industry_, and worthy _Labour_, much in our days _neglected_, as haply
reputed a _Consideration_ of too sordid and vulgar a nature for _Noble
Persons_, and _Gentlemen_ to busie themselves withal, and who oftner
find out occasions to _Fell-down_, and Destroy their Woods and
_Plantations_, than either to _repair_ or _improve_ them.
But we are not without hopes of taking off these _Prejudices_, and of
reconciling them to a _Subject_ and an _Industry_ which has been
_consecrated_ (as I may say) by as _good_, and as _great_ Persons, as
any the World has produced; and whose Names we find mingl'd amongst
_Kings_ and _Philosophers_, grave _Senators_, and _Patriots_ of their
Country: For such of old were _Solomon_, _Cyrus_, and _Numa_, _Licinius_
surnamed _Stolo_, _Cato_, and _Cincinnatus_; the _Piso's_, _Fabii_,
_Cicero_, the _Plinies_, and thousands more whom I might enumerate, that
disdained not to cultivate these _Rusticities_ even with their own
hands, and to esteem it no small _Accession_, to dignifie their
_Titles_, and adorn their _purple_ with these _Rural Characters_ of
their affections to _Planting_, and love of this part of _Agriculture_,
which has transmitted to us their venerable _Names_ through so many
_Ages_ and _Vicissitudes_ of the World.
That famous _Answer_ alone which the _Persian Monarch_ gave to
_Lysander_, will sufficiently justifie that which I have said; besides
what we might add, out of the _Writings_ and _Examples_ of the rest: But
since _these_ may suffice after due reproofs of the late impolitique
_Wast_, and universal _sloth_ amongst us; we should now turn our
_Indignation_ into _Prayers_, and address our selves to our
better-natur'd _Countrymen_;{lxxviii:1} that such _Woods_ as do yet
remain intire, might be carefully _preserved_, and such as are
_destroy'd_, sedulously _repaired_: It is what all Persons who are
_Owners_ of _Land_ may contribute to, and with infinite _delight_, as
well as _profit_, who are touch'd with that laudable _Ambition_ of
imitating their Illustrious _Ancestors_, and of worthily serving their
_Generation_. To these my earnest and humble _Advice_ should be, That at
their very first coming to their _Estates_, and as soon as they get
_Children_, they would seriously think of _this Work_ of _Propagation_
also: For I observe there is no part of _Husbandry_, which Men commonly
more _fail_ in, _neglect_, and have cause to _repent_ of, than that they
did not begin _Planting betimes_, without which, they can expect neither
_Fruit_, _Ornament_, or _Delight_ from their _Labours_: Men seldom plant
_Trees_ till they begin to be _Wise_, that is, till they grow _Old_,
and find by _Experience_ the _Prudence_ and _Necessity_ of it. When
_Ulysses_, after a ten-years Absence, was return'd from _Troy_, and
coming home, found his aged _Father_ in the Field planting of _Trees_,
He asked him, why (being now so far advanc'd in Years) he would put
himself to the Fatigue and Labour of Planting, _that_ which he was never
likely to enjoy the Fruits of? The good old Man (taking him for a
Stranger) gently reply'd; _I plant_ (says he) _against my Son_ Ulysses
_comes home_. The _Application_ is Obvious and Instructive for both
_Old_ and _Young_. And we have a more modern Instance, almost alike that
of the good old _Laertes_. Here then upon the Complaint of learned
Persons and great Travellers, deploring the loss of many rare and
precious Things, _Trees_ and _Plants_, especially instancing the
_Balsam_-Tree of _Gilead_ (now almost, if not altogether failing, and no
more to be found where it grew in great plenty.) He applys himself to
young _Eperous_, to consider it seriously, and to fall a planting while
time is before them, with this incouraging Exclamation, _Agite, ô
Adolescentes, & antequam canities vobis obrepat, stirpes jam alueritis,
quae vobis cum insigni utilitate, delectationem etiam adferent: Nam
quemadmodum canities temporis successu, vobis insciis, sensim obrepit:
Sic natura vobis inserviens educabit quod telluri vestrae concredetis,
modo prima initia illi dederitis_, &c. Pet. Bellonius _De neglecta
stirpium Cultura_. Problema ix.
My next _Advice_ is, that they do not easily commit themselves to the
_Dictates_ of their ignorant _Hinds_ and _Servants_,{lxxix:1} who are
(generally speaking) more fit to Learn than to Instruct. _Male agitur cum
Domino quem Villicus docet_, was an Observation of old _Cato_'s; and 'twas
_Ischomachus_ who told _Socrates_ (discoursing one day upon a like
subject) _That it was far easier to _Make_, than to _Find_ a good
Husband-man_: I have often prov'd it so in _Gardeners_; and I believe it
will hold in most of our _Country_ Employments: Country People
universally know that all Trees consist of _Roots_, _Stems_, _Boughs_,
_Leaves_, &c. but can give no account of the _Species_, _Virtues_, or
farther Culture, besides the making of a Pit or Hole; casting, and
treading in the Earth, &c. which require a deeper search, than they are
capable of: We are then to exact _Labour_, not _Conduct_ and _Reason_,
from the greatest part of them; and the business of _Planting_ is an _Art_
or _Science_ (for so _Varro_ has solemnly defined it;{lxxx:1}) and that
exceedingly wide of Truth, which (it seems) many in his time accounted of
it; _facillimam esse, nec ullius acuminis Rusticationem_,{lxxx:2} namely
that it was an easie and insipid Study. It was the simple _Culture_ only,
with so much difficulty retrieved from the late confusion of an intestine
and bloody _War_, like that of _Ours_, and now put in _Reputation_ again,
which made the noble _Poet_ write,
........How hard it was
Low Subjects with illustrious words to grace.
........_Verbis ea vincere magnum
Quam sit, & angustis hunc addere rebus honorem._
Georg. 3.
Seeing, as the _Orator_ does himself express it, _Nihil est homine
libero dignius_; there is nothing more becoming and worthy of a
_Gentleman_, no, not the Majesty of a{lxxx:3} _Consul_. In ancient and
best Times, Men were not honour'd and esteem'd for the only Learned, who
were great _Linguists_, profound _Criticks_, Reader and Devourers of
Books: But such whose Studies consisted of the Discourses, Documents and
Observations of their _Fore-Fathers_, ancient and venerable Persons;
who, (as the excellent Author of the _Rites_ of the _Israelites_,
_cap._ xv, &c. acquaints us,) were oblig'd to Instruct, and Inform their
Children of the wonderful Things God had done for their Ancestors;
together with the Precepts of the _Moral Law_, _Feasts_, and Religious
Ceremonies: But taught them likewise all that concern'd _Agriculture_;
joyn'd with Lessons of perpetual practice; in which they were,
doubtless, exceedingly knowing; whilst during so many Ages, they
employ'd themselves almost continually in it: And tho' now adays this
_noble Art_ be for the most part, left to be exercis'd amongst us, by
People of grosser and unthinking Souls; yet there is no _Science_
whatever, which contains a vaster Compass of Knowledge, infinitely more
useful and beneficial to Mankind, than the fruitless and empty Notions
of the greatest part of _Speculatists_; counted to be the only _Eruditi_
and learned Men. An _Israelite_, who from _Tradition_ of his
Fore-fathers, his own _Experience_, and some modern Reading, had
inform'd himself of the _Religion_ and _Laws_ which were to regulate his
Life; and knew how to procure Things necessary: Who perfectly understood
the several qualities of the _Earth_, _Plants_, and _Places_ agreeable
to each sort, and to cultivate, propagate, defend them from Accidents,
and bring them to Maturity: That also was skill'd in the nature of
_Cattel_, their Food, Diseases, Remedies, &c. which those who amongst us
pass for the most learned and accomplish'd _Gentlemen_, and _Scholars_,
are, for the most part, grosly ignorant of, look upon as _base_,
_rustick_, and things below them: is (in this learned Author's Opinion)
infinitely more to be valued, than a Man brought up either in wrangling
at the _Bar_; or the noisie, and ridiculous Disputes of our _Schools_,
&c. To this Sense the learn'd _Modena_. And 'tis remarkable, that after
all that wise _Solomon_ had said, that _All_ was _vanity and vexation of
Spirit_ (among so many _particulars_ he reckons up,) he should be
altogether _silent_, and say nothing concerning _Husbandry_; as,
doubtless, considering it the most useful, innocent and laudable
Employment of our Life, requiring those who cultivate the Ground to live
in the Country, remote from _City_-Luxury, and the temptation to the
Vices he condemns. It was indeed a plain Man{lxxxii:1} (a _Potter_ by
_Trade_) but let no body despise him because a _Potter_ (_Agathocles_,
and a _King_ was of that _Craft_) who in my Opinion has given us the
true reason why _Husbandry_, and particularly _Planting_, is no more
improved in this Age of ours; especially, where Persons are _Lords_ and
Owners of much _Land_. The truth is, says he, when Men have acquired any
considerable _Fortune_ by their _good Husbandry_, and _experience_
(forgetting that the greatest _Patriarchs_, _Princes_, their _Sons_ and
_Daughters_, belonged to the _Plough_, and the _Flock_) they account it
a _shame_ to breed up their _Children_ in the same Calling which they
themselves were educated in, but presently design them _Gentlemen_: They
must forsooth, have a _Coat_ of _Arms_, and live upon their _Estates_;
So as by the time his _Sons_ Beard is grown, he begins to be asham'd of
his _Father_, and would be ready to defie him, that should upon any
occasion mind him of his _honest Extraction_: And if it chance that the
good Man have other _Children_ to provide for; _This_ must be the
Darling, be bred at _School_, and the _University_, whilst the rest must
to _Cart_ and _Plow_ with the _Father_, &c. This is the _Cause_, says my
_Author_, that our _Lands_ are so ill _Cultivated_ and neglected. Every
body will subsist upon their own _Revenue_, and take their _Pleasure_,
whilst they resign their _Estates_ to be manag'd by the most _Ignorant_,
which are the _Children_ whom they leave at home, or the _Hinds_ to whom
they commit them. When as in _truth_, and in _reason_, the more
_Learning_, the better _Philosophers_, and the greater _Abilities_ they
possess, the _more_, and the _better_ are they _qualified_, to
_Cultivate_, and improve their _Estates_: Methinks this is well and
rationally argued.
And now you have in part what I had to produce in extenuation of this
_Adventure_; that _Animated_ with a _Command_, and Assisted by divers
_Worthy Persons_ (whose _Names_ I am prone to _celebrate_ with all just
_Respects_) I have presumed to cast in my _Symbol_; which, with the rest
that are to follow, may (I hope) be in some degree serviceable to _him_
(who ere the happy _Person_ be) that shall oblige the _World_ with that
compleat _Systeme_ of _Agriculture_, which as yet seems a _desideratum_,
and wanting to its full perfection. It is (I assure you) what is one of
the Principal designs of the _ROYAL SOCIETY_, not in this _Particular_
only, but through all the _Liberal_ and more useful _Arts_; and for
which (in the estimation of all equal _Judges_) it will merit the
greatest of _Encouragements_; that so, at last, what the Learned
_Columella_ has wittily reproached, and complained of, as a defect in
that _Age_ of _his_, concerning _Agriculture_ in general, and is
applicable _here_, may attain its desired _Remedy_ and _Consummation_ in
_This_ of _Ours_.
_Sola enim Res Rustica, quae sine dubitatione proxima, & quasi
consanguinea Sapientiae est, tam discentibus eget, quam magistris: Adhuc
enim Scholas Rhetorum, & Geometrarum, Musicorumque, vel quod magis
mirandum est, contemptissimorum vitiorum officinas, gulosius condiendi
cibos, & luxuriosius fercula struendi, capitumque & capillorum
concinnatores, non solum esse audivi, sed & ipse vidi; Agricolationis
neque Doctores qui se profiterentur, neque Discipulos cognovi._{lxxxiii:1}
But this I leave for our _Peruk'd Gallants_ to interpret, and should now
apply my self to the _Directive_ Part, which I am all this while
bespeaking, if after what I have said in the several _Paragraphs_ of the
ensuing _Discourse_ upon the _Argument_ of _Wood_, (and which in this
_Fourth_ Edition coming _Abroad_ with innumerable _Improvements_, and
_Advantages_ (so furnished, as I hope shall neither reproach the _Author_,
or repent the _Reader_) it might not seem superfluous to have _premised_
any thing _here_ for the Encouragement of so becoming an _Industry_. There
are divers _Learned_, and judicious _Men_ who have _preceded_ Me in this
_Argument_; as many, at least, as have undertaken to Write and Compile
vast _Herbals_, and _Theaters_ of _Plants_; of which we have some of our
own _Country-men_, (especially, the most Industrious and Learned Mr.
_Ray_) who have (boldly I dare affirm it) surpass'd _any_, if not all the
_Foreigners_ that are extant: In _those_ it is you meet with the
_Description_ of the several _Plants_, by _Discourses_, _Figures_,
_Names_, _Places_ of _Growth_; time of _Flourishing_, and their _Medicinal
Virtues_; which may supply any _deficiency_ of mine as to those
_Particulars_; if forbearing the _Repetition_, it should by any be imputed
for a _defect_, though it were indeed none of my _design_: I say, these
things are long since performed to our hands: But there is none of these
(that I at least know of, and are come to my perusal) who have taken any
considerable pains how to _Direct_, and _Encourage_ us in the _Culture_ of
_Forest-Trees_ (the grand _defect_ of this _Nation_) besides some small
sprinklings to be met withal in _Gervas Markham_, old _Tusser_, and of
_Foreigners_, the _Country-Farm_ long since translated out of French, and
by no means suitable to our Clime and _Country_: Neither have any of these
proceeded after my _Method_, and particularly, in _Raising_, _Planting_,
_Dressing_, and _Governing_, &c. or so sedulously made it their business,
to _specifie_ the _Mechanical Uses_ of the _several kinds_, as I have
done, which was hitherto a great _desideratum_, and in which the _Reader_
will likewise find some things altogether _New_ and _Instructive_; and
both _Directions_ and _Encouragements_ for the Propagation of some
_Foreign_ Curiosities of _Ornament_ and _Use_, which were hitherto
neglected. If I have upon occasion presumed to say any thing concerning
their _Medicinal_ properties, it has been _Modestly_ and Frugally, and
with chief, if not only respect to the poor _Wood-man_, whom none I
presume will envy, that living far from the _Physician_, he should in case
of _Necessity_, consult the reverend _Druid_, his{lxxxv:1} _Oaks_ and his
_Elm_, _Birch_, or _Elder_, for a short _Breath_, a Green _Wound_, or a
sore _Leg_; Casualties incident to this hard _Labour_. These are the chief
_Particulars_ of this ensuing _Work_, and what it pretends hitherto of
_Singular_, in which let me be permitted to say, There is sufficient for
_Instruction_, and more than is extant in any _Collection_ whatsoever
(_absit verbo invidia_) in this way and upon this _Subject_; abstracting
things _Practicable_, of solid _use_ and _material_, from the
_Ostentation_ and Impertinences of divers _Writers_; who receiving all
that came to hand on trust, to swell their monstrous _Volumes_, have
hitherto impos'd upon the credulous _World_, without _conscience_ or
_honesty_. I will not exasperate the _Adorers_ of our ancient and late
_Naturalists_, by repeating of what our _Verulam_ has justly pronounced
concerning their _Rhapsodies_ (because I likewise honour their painful
_Endeavours_, and am obliged to them for much of that I know,) nor will I
(with some) reproach _Pliny_, _Porta_, _Cardan_, _Mizaldus_, _Cursius_,
and many others of great _Names_ (whose _Writings_ I have diligently
consulted) for the _Knowledge_ they have imparted to me on this Occasion;
but I must deplore the time which is (for the most part) so miserably lost
in pursuit of their _Speculations_, where they treat upon this _Argument_:
But the _World_ is now advis'd, and (blessed be _God_) infinitely redeem'd
from that base and servile submission of our noblest _Faculties_ to their
blind _Traditions_. This you will be apt to say, is a haughty _Period_;
but whilst I affirm it of the _Past_, it _justifies_, and does _honour_
to the _Present_ Industry of our _Age_, and of which there cannot be a
_greater_ and more emulous _Instance_, than the _Passion_ of His _Majesty_
to encourage his _Subjects_, and of the _Royal Society_, (His _Majesty's
Foundation_) who receive and promote His _Dictates_, in all that is
laudable and truly _emolumental_ of this Nature.
It is not therefore that I here presume to instruct _Him_ in the
management of that great and august _Enterprise_ of resolving to _Plant_
and repair His ample _Forests_, and other _Magazines_ of _Timber_, for
the benefit of His _Royal Navy_, and the glory of His _Kingdoms_; but to
present to His _Sacred Majesty_, and to the _World_, what _Advices_ I
have received from _others_, observed my self, and most industriously
_collected_ from a studious Propensity to serve as one of the least
_Intelligences_ in the ampler _Orb_ of our _Illustrious Society_, and in
a _Work_ so necessary and important.
And now since I mention'd the _Society_, give me leave (Worthy Reader)
as a _Member_ of that _Body_, which has been the chief _Promoter_ of
this ensuing _Work_, (and, as I stand oblig'd) to _vindicate_ that
_Assembly_, and consequently, the _Honour_ of his _Majesty_ and the
_Nation_, in a _Particular_ which concerns it, though (in appearance) a
little forreign to the present _Subject_.
I will not say that _all_ which I have written in the several
_Paragraphs_ of this _Treatise_, is _New_; but that there are very many
_New_, and _useful_ things, and _Observations_ (without insisting on the
_Methods_ only) not hitherto deliver'd by any _Author_, and so freely
communicated, I hope will sufficiently appear: It is not therefore in
behalf of any Particular which concerns _my self_, that I have been
induced to enlarge this _Preface_; but, by taking this _Occasion_, to
encounter the unsufferable _Boldness_, or _Ambition_ of some _Persons_
(as well _Strangers_, as others) _arrogating_ to themselves the being
_Inventors_ of divers _New_ and useful _Experiments_, justly
attributable to several _Members_ of the _Royal Society_.{lxxxvii:1}
So far has that _Assembly_ been from affecting _Glory_, that they seem
rather to have declin'd their due; not as asham'd of so numerous and
fair an _Off-spring_; but as abundantly satisfied, that after all the
hard measure, and virulent _Reproaches_ they had sustain'd, for
endeavouring by _united Attempts_, and at their own _Charges_, to
improve _Real Philosophy_; they had from time to time, cultivated that
_Province_ in so many _useful_ and profitable _Instances_, as are
already _published_ to the _World_, and will be easily _asserted_ to
their _Authors_ before all _equitable_ Judges.
This being the sole inducement of publishing this _Apology_; it may not
perhaps seem unseasonable to _disabuse_ some (otherwise) _well-meaning_
People, who _led away_ and _perverted_ by the _Noise_ of a few
_Ignorant_ and _Comical Buffoons_, (whose _Malevolence_, or
_Impertinencies_ intitle them to nothing that is truly _Great_ and
_Venerable_) are with an _Insolence_ suitable to their _Understanding_,
still crying out, and asking, _What have the Society done?_
Now, as nothing less than _Miracles_ (and unless _God_ should every day
_repeat_ them at the _Call_ of these _Extravagants_) will _convince_
some Persons, of the most _Rational_ and _Divine Truths_, (already so
often and extraordinarily establish'd;) so, nor will any thing
_satisfie_ these _unreasonable_ Men, but the production of the
_Philosophers-stone_, and _Great-Elixir_; which yet were they
_Possessors_ of, they would _consume_ upon their _Lux_ and _Vanity_.
It is not therefore to gratifie these _magnificent Fops_, whose
_Talents_ reach but to the adjusting of their _Peruques_, courting a
_Miss_, or at the farthest writing a smutty, or scurrilous _Libel_,
(which they would have to pass for _genuine_ Wit) that I _concern_ my
self in these _papers_; but, as well in _Honour_ of our _Royal Founder_,
as the _Nation_, to _Assert_ what of other _Countries_ has been
surreptitiously _Arrogated_, and by which, they not only value
themselves _abroad_; but (prevailing on the Modesty of that Industrious
_Assembly_) seek the _deference_ of _those_, who whilst it remains still
_silent_, do not so clearly discern this glorious _Plumage_ to be purely
_ascititious_, and not a _Feather_ of their own. --But still, _What have
they done?_
Those who perfectly comprehend the _Scope_, and _End_ of that noble
_Institution_; which is to _improve Natural Knowledge_, and inlarge the
_Empire_ of _Operative Philosophy_; not by an _Abolition_ of the _Old_,
but by the _Real Effects_ of the _Experimental_; _Collecting_,
_Examining_, and _Improving_ their scatter'd _Phænomena_, to establish
even the _Received Methods_ and _Principles_ of the _Schools_ (as far as
were consistent with _Truth_, and _matter_ of _Fact_) thought it long
enough, that the World had been _impos'd_ upon by that _Notional_, and
_Formal_ way of delivering divers _Systems_ and _Bodies_ of
_Philosophie_ (falsely so call'd) beyond which there was no more
_Country_ to discover; which being brought to the _Test_ and _Tryal_,
vapours all away in _Fume_, and empty _Sound_.
This _Structure_ then being thus _Ruinous_ and _Crazy_; 'tis obvious
what they were to do; even the same which skilful _Architects_ do every
day before us; by _pulling down_ the decay'd and sinking Wall to erect a
_better_, and more _substantial_ in its place: They not only take down
the _old_, reject the useless and decay'd; but sever such _Materials_ as
are _solid_, and will serve again; bring _new-ones_ in, prepare and
frame a _Model_ suitable to so _magnificent_ a _Design_: This _Solomon_
did in order to the _Building_ of the _Material Temple_; and _this_ is
here to be pursued in the _Intellectual_: Nay, here was abundance of
_Rubbish_ to be clear'd, that the _Area_ might be free; and then was the
_Foundation_ to be deeply searched, the _Materials_ accurately
_examined_, _squared_, and _adjusted_, before it could be laid: Nor was
this the _Labour_ of a _Few_; less than a much longer time, more Cost
and Encouragement than any which the _Society_ has yet met withal, could
in reason be sufficient effectually to go through so chargeable a Work,
and highly necessary.
A long time it was they had been surveying the _Decays_, of what was
ready now to drop in pieces, whatever shew the out-side made with a
noise of _Elements_ and _Qualities_, _Occult_ and _Evident_; abhorrence
of _Vacuum_, _Sympathies_, _Antipathies_; _Substantial Forms_, and
_Prime matter_ courting _Form_; _Epicycles_, _Ptolemæan Hypotheses_,
magisterial _Definitions_, peremptory _Maximes_, _Speculative_, and
_Positive Doctrines_, and _alti-sonant Phrases_, with a thousand other
_precarious_ and unintelligible _Notions_, &c. all which they have been
turning over, to see if they could find any thing of _sincere_ and
_useful_ among this _Pedantick Rubbish_, but all in _vain_; here was
nothing _material_, nothing of moment _Mathematical_, or _Mechanical_,
and which had not been miserably _sophisticated_, on which to lay the
stress; nothing in a manner whereby any farther _Progress_ could be
made, for the _raising_ and _ennobling_ the _Dignity_ of _Mankind_ in
the _Sublimest Operations_ of the _Rational Faculty_, by _clearing_ the
_Obscurities_, and _healing_ the _Defects_ of most of the _Phisiological
Hypotheses_, repugnant, as they hitherto seemed to be, to the
_Principles_ of real _Knowledge_ and _Experience_.
Now although it neither were their _Hopes_, or in their prospect to
_consummate_ a _Design_ requiring so _mighty Aids_, (inviron'd as they
have been with these Prejudices) yet have they not at all _desisted_
from the _Enterprize_; but rather than so Noble and Illustrious an
_Undertaking_ should not proceed for want of some generous and
industrious _Spirits_ to promote the _Work_; they have _themselves_
submitted to those mean _Imployments_, of _digging_ in the very
_Quarry_; yea even and of making _Brick_ where there was no _Straw_, but
what they gleaned, and lay dispersed up and down: Nor did they think
their Pains yet _ill bestow'd_, if through the assiduous _Labour_, and a
_Train_ of continual _Experiments_, they might at last furnish, and
leave solid and uncorrupt _Materials_ to a _succeeding_, and more
_grateful Age_, for the _building up_ a _Body_ of _real_ and
_substantial Philosophy_, which should never _succumb_ to _Time_, but
with the _Ruines_ of _Nature_, and the _World_ it self.
In order to _this_, how many, and almost _innumerable_ have been their
_Tryals_ and _Experiments_, through the large and ample Field both of
_Art_ and _Nature_? We call our _Journals_, _Registers_,
_Correspondence_, and _Transactions_, to witness; and may with modesty
provoke all our _Systematical Methodists_, _Natural Histories_, and
_Pretenders_ hitherto extant from the _beginning_ of _Letters_, to this
_period_, to shew us so _ample_, so _worthy_ and so _useful_ a
Collection. 'Tis a _Fatality_ and an _Injury_ to be deplored, that those
who give us _hard words_, will not first vouchsafe _impartially_ to
_examine_ these _particulars_; since all _Ingenuous Spirits_ could not
but be abundantly _satisfied_, that this _Illustrious Assembly_ has not
met so many _Years_ purely for _Speculation_ only; though I take even
_that_ to be no ignoble _Culture_ of the _Mind_, or time mispent for
Persons who have so few _Friends_, and slender _Obligations_, to those
who should _Patronize_ and _Encourage_ them: But they have aimed at
_greater things_, and _greater things_ produc'd, namely, by
_Emancipating_, and freeing themselves from the _Tyranny_ of _Opinion_,
_delusory_ and fallacious shews, to receive nothing upon _Trust_, but
bring it to the _Lydian Touch_, make it pass the _Fire_, the _Anvil_ and
the _File_, till it come forth perfectly _repurged_, and of consistence.
They are not hasty in _concluding_ from a _single_, or _incompetent_
number of _Experiments_, to pronounce the _Ecstatic Heureca_, and offer
_Hecatombs_; but, after the most diligent _Scrutiny_, and by degrees,
and wary _Inductions_ _honestly_ and _faithfully_ made, to _record_ the
_Truth_, and event of _Tryals_, and transmit them to _Posterity_. They
resort not immediately to _general Propositions_, upon every _specious
appearance_; but stay for _Light_, and Information from _Particulars_,
and make Report _de Facto_, and as _Sense_ informs them. They reject no
_Sect_ of _Philosophers_, no _Mechanic_ Helps, _except_ no _Persons_ of
Men; but chearfully embracing _all_, cull out of _all_, and alone
_retain_ what abides the _Test_; that from a plentiful and well
furnish'd _Magazine_ of true _Experiments_, they may in time advance to
solemn and established _Axiomes_, _General Rules_ and _Maximes_; and a
_Structure_ may indeed lift up its head, such as may stand the shock of
_Time_, and render a solid accompt of the _Phænomena_, and _Effects_ of
_Nature_, the _Aspectable Works of God_, and their _Combinations_; so as
by _Causes_ and _Effects_, _certain_ and _useful_ Consequences may be
deduced. Therefore they do not fill their _Papers_ with _Transcripts_
out of _Rhapsodists_, _Mountebancs_, and Compilers of _Receipts_ and
_Secrets_, to the loss of Oil and Labour; but as it were, _eviscerating_
Nature, disclosing the _Ressorts_, and Springs of _Motion_, have
_collected_ innumerable _Experiments_, _Histories_ and _Discourses_; and
brought in _Specimens_ for the Improvement of _Astronomy_, _Geography_,
_Navigation_, _Optics_; all the Parts of _Agriculture_, the _Garden_ and
the _Forest_; _Anatomy_ of _Plants_, and _Animals_; _Mines_ and _Ores_;
_Measures_ and _Æquations_ of _Time_ by accurate _Pendulums_, and other
Motions, _Hydro_- and _Hygrostatics_, divers _Engines_, Powers and
_Automata_, with innumerable more _luciferous_ particulars, subservient
to human life, of which Dr. _Glanvil_ has given an ample and ingenious
_Accompt_ in his learned Essay: And _since_ in the _Posthumous_ Works of
Dr. _Hooke_, lately publish'd by the most obliging Mr. _Waller_, already
mention'd.
This is (_Reader_) what they have done; and they are but _part_ of the
_Materials_ which the _Society_ have hitherto _amassed_, and prepared
for this great and _Illustrious Work_; not to pass over an infinity of
_solitary_, and loose _Experiments_ subsidiary to it, gathered at no
small Pains and Cost: For so have they hitherto born the _Burden and
Heat of the day alone_; _Sapping_ and _Mining_ to lay the _Foundation_
deep, and raise a _Superstructure_ to be one day perfected, by the joint
_Endeavours_ of those who shall in a _kinder_ Age have little else to
do, but the _putting_ and _cementing_ of the _Parts_ together, which to
_collect_ and fit, have cost them so much Solicitude and Care. _Solomon_
indeed built the glorious _Temple_; but 'twas _David_ provided the
_Materials_: Did Men in those days insolently ask, _What he had done_,
in all the time of that tedious preparation? I beseech you what
_Obligation_ has the _R. Society_ to render an _Accompt_ of their
Proceedings to _any_ who are not of the _Body_, and that carry on the
_Work_ at their own _expence_ amidst so many Contradictions? It is an
_Evil Spirit_, and an _Evil Age_, which having sadly _debauch'd_ the
_Minds_ of Men; seeks with Industry to blast and undermine all
_Attempts_ and Endeavours that signifie to the Illustration of _Truth_,
the discovery of _Impostors_, and shake their sandy Foundations.
_Those who come (_says the noble _Verulam__) to enquire after _Knowledge_,
with a mind to _scorn_, shall be sure to find matter for their _Humor_;
but none for their _Instruction_: _Would_ Men bring light of _Invention_,
and not fire-brands of _Contradiction_, Knowledge would infinitely
increase._ But these are the _Sanballats_ and _Horonites_ who disturb our
Men upon the Wall{xciii:1}: But, _let us rise up and build_, and be no
more discourag'd. 'Tis impossible to conceive, how so honest, and worthy a
_Design_ should have found so few _Promoters_, and cold a welcome in a
_Nation_ whose _Eyes_ are so wide open: We see how greedily the _French_,
and other _Strangers_ embrace and cultivate the _Design_: What sumptuous
_Buildings_, well furnish'd _Observatories_, ample _Appointments_,
_Salaries_, and _Accommodations_, they have erected to carry on the Work;
whilst we live _precariously_, and spin the _Web_ out of our own _Bowels_.
Indeed we have had the Honour to be the _first_ who led the _way_, given
the _Ferment_, which like a _Train_ has taken _Fire_, and warm'd the
_Regions_ all about us. _This Glory, doubtless, shall none take from us_:
But whilst they flourish so _abroad_, we want the _Spirit_ should diffuse
it here at _home_, and give progress to so hopeful a _beginning_: But as
we said, the _Enemy_ of _Mankind_ has done us this despite; it is his
Interest to impeach (in any sort) what e're opposes his _Dominion_; which
is to lead, and settle Men in _Errors_ as well in _Arts_ and _Natural
Knowledge_, as in _Religion_; and therefore would be glad, the World
should still be _groping_ after _both_. 'Tis _he_ that sets the
_Buffoons_, and empty _Sycophants_, to turn all that's _Great_ and
_Virtuous_ into _Raillery_ and Derision: 'Tis therefore to encounter
_these_, that like those resolute _Builders_,{xciii:2} whilst we employ
one hand in the Work, _we_, with the _other_ are oblig'd to hold our
_Weapon_, till some bold, and _Gallant Genius_ deliver us, and raise the
Siege. How gloriously would such a _Benefactor_ shine! What a
_Constellation_ would he make! How great a _Name_ establish! For mine own
part (_Religiously_ I _profess_ it) were I not a _Person_, who (whilst I
stood expecting when others more worthy, and able than my self, should
have snatch'd the Opportunity of _signalizing_ a Work worthy of
_Immortality_) had long since given _Hostages_ to _Fortune_, and so put my
self out of a Capacity of shewing my _Affection_ to a _Design_ so
glorious; I would not only most chearfully have _contributed_ towards the
freeing it from the _Straits_ it has so long struggl'd under; but
_sacrific'd_ all my _Secular Interests_ in their Service: But, as I said,
this is reserv'd for that Gallant _Hero_ (whoe'er it be) that truly
weighing the noble and universal _Consequence_ of so high an _Enterprize_,
shall at last free it of these _Reproaches_; and either set it above the
reach of _Envy_, or convert it to _Emulation_. This were indeed to consult
an honest _Fame_, and to _embalm_ the _Memory_ of a _Greater Name_ than
any has yet appear'd amongst all the _Benefactors_ of the _Disputing
Sects_: Let it suffice to affirm, that next the _Propagation_ of our most
_Holy Faith_, and its _Appendants_, (nor can His _Majesty_ or the _Nation_
build their _Fame_ on a more _lasting_, a more _Glorious Monument_;) The
Propagation of _Learning_, and _useful Arts_, having always surviv'd the
_Triumphs_ of the proudest _Conquerors_, and Spillers of humane _Blood_;)
_Princes_ have been more _Renown'd_ for their Civility to _Arts_ and
_Letters_, than to all their _Sanguinary Victories_, subduing _Provinces_,
and making those brutish _Desolations_ in the World, to feed a _salvage_
and vile _Ambition_. Witness you _Great Alexander_, and you the
_Ptolemees_, _Cæsars_, _Charemain_, _Francis_ the First; the _Cosimo's_,
_Frederic's_, _Alphonsus's_, and the rest of _Learned Princes_: Since when
all the _Pomp_ and Noise is ended; They are those _little things_ in
_black_ (whom now in scorn they term _Philosophers_ and _Fopps_) to whom
they must be oblig'd, for making their _Names_ outlast the _Pyramids_
whose _Founders_ are as unknown as the Heads of _Nile_; because they
either deserv'd no _Memory_ for their _Vertues_, or had none to transmit
them, or their _Actions_ to _Posterity_.
Is not our R. _Founder_ already _Panegyriz'd_ by all the _Universities_,
_Academists_, _Learned Persons_, divers _Princes_ _Ambassadors_, and
_Illustrious_ Men from _abroad_? Witness besides, the many accurate
_Treatises_ and _Volumes_ of the most _curious_ and _useful_ Subjects,
_Medicinal_, _Mathematical_, and _Mechanical_, dedicated to His
_Majesty_ as _Founder_; to its _President_, and to the _Society_, by the
greatest _Wits_, and most profoundly knowing of the _European_ World,
celebrating their _Institution_ and _Proceedings_: Witness, the daily
Submissions and solemn _Appeals_ of the most learned _Strangers_ to its
_Suffrages_, as to the most able, candid and impartial _Judges_:
Witness, the _Letters_, and _Correspondencies_ from most parts of the
_habitable Earth_, _East_, and _West Indies_, and almost from _Pole to
Pole_; besides what they have receiv'd from the very Mouths of divers
_Professors_, _Publique Ministers_, great _Travellers_, _Noblemen_, and
Persons of highest Quality; who have not only frequented the _Assembly_,
but desir'd to be _Incorporated_ and _ascrib'd_ into their _Number_; so
little has his _Majesty_, or the _Kingdom_ been diminish'd in their
Reputation, by the _Royal Society_, to the reproach of our sordid
_Adversaries_: Never had the _Republique_ of _Letters_ so learned and
universal a _Correspondence_ as has been procur'd and promoted by this
_Society_ alone; as not only the casual _Transactions_ of several Years
(filled with _Instances_ of the most curious and useful _Observations_)
make appear; but (as I said) the many _Nuncupatory Epistles_ to be seen
in the Fronts of so many _learned Volumes_: There it is you will find
CHARLES the II. plac'd among the _Heroes_ and _Demi-Gods_, for his
_Patrociny_ and _Protection_: There you will see the numerous
_Congratulations_ of the most learned _Foreigners_, celebrating the
Happiness of their _Institution_; and that whilst other _Nations_ are
still _benighted_ under the dusky _Cloud_, such a refulgent Beam should
give day to this _blessed Isle_: And certainly, it is not to be supposed
that _all_ these _Learned Persons_, of so many, and divers _Interests_,
as well as _Countries_, should _speak_, and _write_ thus out of
_Flattery_, much less of _Ignorance_; being Men of the most refin'd
_Universal Knowledge_, as well as _Ingenuity_: But I should never _end_,
were I to pursue this fruitful _Topic_. I have but one word more to add,
to conciliate the _Favour_ and Esteem of our own _Universities_, to an
_Assembly_ of _Gentlemen_, who _from them_ acknowledge to have derived
all their _Abilities_ for these laudable Undertakings; and what above
all is most _shining_ in them of most _Christian_, _Moral_, and
otherwise conspicuous, as from the _Source_ and _Fountain_, to which on
all occasions, they are not only ready to pay the _Tribute_ and
_Obsequiousness_ of _humble Servants_, but of _Sons_, and dutiful
_Alumni_. There is nothing verily which they more desire, than a fair
and mutual _Correspondence_ between so near _Relations_, and that they
may be perpetually _Flourishing_ and _Fruitful_ in bringing forth (as
still they do) supplies to _Church_ and _State_ in all its great
Capacities:{xcvi:1} Finally, that they would regard the _Royal Society_
as a _Colony_ of their own _planting_, and _augure_ it _Success_. And if
in these _Labours_, and arduous _Attempts_, several _Inventions_ of
present use and service to _Mankind_ (either detecting _Errors_,
illustrating and asserting _Truths_, or propagating _Knowledge_ in
_natural things_, and the visible _Works_ of _God_) have been
discover'd, as they _envy_ not the _communicating_ them to the _World_;
so should they be _wanting_ to the _Society_, and to the _Honour_ of
divers _Learned_ and _Ingenious Persons_, (who are the _Soul_ and _Body_
of it) not to vindicate them from the ambitious _Plagiary_, the Insults
of _Scoffers_ and injurious Men: Certainly, Persons of right _Noble_ and
subacted _Principles_, that were _Lovers_ of their _Country_, should be
otherwise affected; and rather strive to _encourage_, and promote
Endeavours tending to so _generous_ a _Design_, than decry it;
especially, when it costs them nothing but their _Civility_ to so many
_obliging Persons_, though they should hitherto have entertain'd them
but with some innocent _Diversions_. To conclude, we _envy_ none their
_Dues_; nay we gratefully _acknowledge_ any _Light_ which we receive
either from _Home_, or from _Abroad_: We _celebrate_ and _record_ their
_Names_ amongst our _Benefactors_; recommend them to the _Publique_; and
what we thus _freely give_, we hope as _freely_ to _receive_.
Thus have I endeavour'd to _Vindicate_ the _Royal Society_ from some
_Aspersions_ and _Incroachments_ it hitherto has suffer'd; and shew'd
under what _Weights_ and _Pressure_ this _Palm_ does still emerge: And
if for all this I fall short of my _Attempt_, I shall yet have this
satisfaction, That tho I derive no _Glory_ from my own _Abilities_
(sensible of my great _Defects_) I shall yet _deserve_ their _pardon_
for my _Zeal_ to its _Prosperity_.
_Epictetus_, +kth+.
+Philosophias epithymeis; paraskeuazou autothen+, &c.
Wouldst thou be a _Philosopher_; Prepare thy self for _Scoffs_: What,
you are setting up for a _Virtuoso_ now? Why so proud I pray? Well, be
not thou proud for all this; But so persist in what seems _best_ and
_laudable_; as if _God_ himself had plac'd thee there; and _remember_,
that so long as thou _remain'st_ in that _State_ and _Resolution_, thy
_Reproachers_ will in time _admire_ thee: But if once through
_Inconstancy_ thou _give out_ & _flinch_, +diploun proslêpsê
katagelôta+, Thou _deservest_ to be doubly _laugh'd_ at.
Lord _Verulam_, Instaur. Scient.
Some Men (like _Lucian_ in _Religion_) seek by their _Wit_, to
_traduce_ and _expose useful things_; because to arrive at them, they
converse with _mean Experiments_: But those who _despise_ to be
_employ'd_ in _ordinary_ and _common matters_, never arrive to _solid
Perfection_ in _Experimental Knowledge_.
* * * * *
The changes and _Alterations_ in the several _Chapters_ and Parts
throughout this _Discourse_, with the _Additions_ and _Improvements_,
have often oblig'd me to alter the _Method_, and indeed to make it
almost a _New Work_.
_J. Evelyn._
FOOTNOTES:
{lxxviii:1} See _Petrarch de Remed. utriusque fortunae L. 1. Dial. 57_.
{lxxix:1} _Vide & Curtium_, l. 7. &c.
{lxxx:1} _De R. R._
{lxxx:2} _In agris erant tunc Senatores._ Cic. _de_ Senect.
{lxxx:3} _Silvae sunt Consule dignae. See this of the _Poet_
Interpreted, _Scaliger l. 2. c. 1._ Poet. _P. Nennius, Sueton. Jul._ in
Lipsium. _Tacit, iv. Annal. 27._ concerning the _Quæstor's_ Office._
{lxxxii:1} _Palissy, le Moyen de devenir Riche._
{lxxxiii:1} _Praefat ad P. Silvinum_; which I earnestly recommend to the
serious perusal of our _Gentry_. _Et mihi ad sapientis vitam proximè
videtur accedere._ Cic. _de Senectute_.
{lxxxv:1} _Ne silvae quidem, horridiorque naturae facies medicinis
carent, sacra illa parente rerum omnium, nusquam non remedia disponente
homini ut Medicina, fieret etiam solitudo ipsa, &c. Hinc nata Medicina,
&c. Haec sola naturae placuerat esse remedia parata vulgo, inventu
facilia, ac sine impendio, ex quibus vivimus_, &c. Plin. l. 24. c. 1.
{lxxxvii:1} Consult _Hist. Roy. Soc._ and their _Registers_.
The Laws of _Motion_, and the Geometrical streightning of _Curve Lines_
were first found out by Sir _Christopher Wren_ and Mr. _Thomas Neile_.
The _equated isocrone Motion_ of the weight of a _Circular Pendulum_ in
a _Paraboloid_, for the regulating of _Clocks_; and the improving
_Pocket-Watches_ by _Springs_ applied to the _Ballance_, were first
invented and demonstrated to this Society by Dr. _Hooke_; together with
all those _New_ and useful _Instruments_, _Contrivances_ and
_Experiments_, _Mathematical_ and _Physical_, publish'd in his
_Posthumous Works_ by the most accomplish'd Mr. _Waller_, _Secretary_ to
the _R. Society_. And since those the incomparably learned Sir _Isaac
Newton_, now _President_ of the _Royal Society_; Mr. _Haly_, the Worthy
_Professor_ of _Geometry_ in the _University_ of _Oxford_; Dr. _Grew_,
and several more, whose Works and useful Inventions sufficiently
celebrate their Merits: I did mention the _Barometer_, to which might be
added the prodigious effects of the _Speculum Ustorium_, surpassing what
the _French_ pretend to, as confidently, or rather _audaciously_, they
do, and to other admirable Inventions, injuriously _arrogated_ by
_Strangers_, tho' due of right to _Englishmen_, and Members of this
Society; but 'tis not the business of this Preface to enumerate all,
tho' 'twas necessary to touch on some Instances.
{xciii:1} Neh. 2. 19.
{xciii:2} Neh. 4. 17.
{xcvi:1} _Since this _Epistle_ was first written and publish'd the
_University of Oxford_ have instituted, and erected a _Society_ for the
promoting of _Natural_ and _Experimental Knowledge_, in consort with the
_R. Society_, with which they keep a mutual Correspondence: This
mention, for that some _Malevolents_ had so far endeavour'd to possess
divers Members of the _University_; as if the _Society_ design'd nothing
less than the undermining of that, and other illustrious _Academies_,
and which indeed so far prevail'd, as to breed a real Jealousy for some
considerable time: But as this was never in the Thoughts of the
_Society_ (which had ever the _Universities_ in greatest Veneration) so
the Innocency and Usefulness of its Institution has at length disabus'd
them, vindicated their Proceedings, dissipated all Surmises, and, in
fine, produced an ingenious, friendly and candid Union and
Correspondence between them._
ADVERTISEMENT.
That I have frequently inserted divers _Historical_ and other Passages,
_apposite_, agreeable to the _Subject_ (abstaining from a number more
which I might have added) let it be _remember'd_ that I did not
altogether compile this _Work_ for the sake of our ordinary _Rustics_,
(meer _Foresters_ and _Wood-men_) but for the more _Ingenious_; the
Benefit, and Diversion of _Gentlemen_, and Persons of _Quality_, who
often refresh themselves in these agreeable _Toils_ of _Planting_, and
the _Garden_: For the rest, I may perhaps in some places have made use
of (here and there) a _Word_ not as yet so familiar to every _Reader_;
but _none_, that I know of, which are not sufficiently _explained_ by
the _Context_ and Discourse. That this may yet be no _prejudice_ to the
_meaner Capacities_, let them _read_ for
_Ablaqueation_, laying bare the _Roots_.
_Amputation_, cutting quite off.
_Arborator_, Pruner, or one that has care of the _Trees_.
_Avenue_, the principal _Walk_ to the _Front_ of the _House_ or _Seat_.
_Bulbs_, round or _Onion-shap'd_ Roots.
_Calcine_, burn to Ashes.
_Compost_, Dung.
_Conservatory_, Green-house to keep _choice Plants_, &c. in.
_Contr'espaliere_, a Palisade or _Pole-hedge_.
_Coronary_ Garden, _Flower_-Garden.
_Culinary_, belonging to the _Kitchin_, _Roots_, _Salading_, &c.
_Culture_, Dressing.
_Decorticate_, to strip off the _Bark_.
_Emuscation_, cleansing it of the _Moss_.
_Esculent_, Roots, Salads, &c. fit to eat.
_Espalieres_, Wall-fruit Trees.
_Exotics_, outlandish, rare and choice.
_Fermentation_, working.
_Fibrous_, stringy.
_Frondation_, stripping of _Leaves_, and _Boughs_.
_Heterogeneous_, repugnant.
_Homogeneous_, agreeable.
_Hyemation_, protection in _Winter_.
_Ichnography_, Ground-plot.
_Inoculation_, budding.
_Insition_, Graffing.
_Insolation_, exposing to the _Sun_.
_Interlucation_, thinning and disbranching of a Wood.
_Irrigation_, Watering.
_Laboratory_, Still-house.
_Letation_, Dung.
_Lixivium_, Lee.
_Mural_, belonging to the Wall.
_Olitory_, _Acetary_, _Salads_, &c. belonging to the _Kitchin-Garden_.
_Palisade_, Pole-hedge.
_Parterre_, Flower-Garden, or _Knots_.
_Perennial_, continuing all the year.
_Quincunx_, Trees set like the _Cinque-point_ of a _Dy_.
_Rectifie_, re-distil.
_Seminary_, Nursery.
_Stercoration_, Dunging.
S. S. S. _Stratum super Stratum_, one bed, or layer upon another.
_Tonsile_, that which may be shorn, or clip'd.
_Topiary_-works, the _clipping_, _cutting_ and _forming_ of _Hedges_, &c.
into _Figures_ and Works.
_Vernal_, belonging to the _Spring_, &c. The rest are _obvious_.
BOOKS Published by the _AUTHOR_ of this _Discourse_
1. The _French Gard'ner_, III. _Edition_, _Twelves_, with Mr. _Rose_'s
Vineyard.
2. _Fumi-fugium_: Or, A _Prophetic Invective_ against the _Smoke_ of
_London_. _Quarto._
3. _Silva_: Or, A _Discourse of Forest-Trees_, &c. the IVth _Edition_,
very much _improv'd_. _Folio._
4. _Kalendarium Hortense_, both in _Folio_ and _Octavo_. The Xth
_Edition_, much _augmented_.
5. _Sculptura_: Or, The _History_ of _Chalcography_ and _Engraving_ in
_Copper_, the _Original_ and _Progress_ of that _Art_, &c. _Octavo._
6. The _Parallel_ of _Architecture_, being an Account of _Ten_ famous
_Architects_, with a _Discourse_ of the _Terms_, and a _Treatise_ of
_Statues_. _Folio._ 2d _Edition_.
7. The _Idea_ of the _Perfecting_ of _Painting_. _Octavo._
8. _Navigation_ and _Commerce_, their _Original_ and _Progress_.
_Octavo._
9. _Publick Employment_ and an _Active Life_, prefer'd to _Solitude_ and
its _Appanages_, &c. _Octavo._
10. _Terra_: Or, A _Philosophical_ Discourse of _Earth_, the IIId
_Edition_. _Folio_ and _Octavo_.
11. _Numismata_, a _Discourse_ of _Medals_; to which is added, A
_Digression_ concerning _Physiognomy_. _Folio._
12. _Acetaria_: Or, A Discourse of _Sallets_. 2d _Edition_.
* * * * *
_Naming_ the last Discourse (save one) I take this Opportunity to acquit
my self of some _Omissions_ and _Mistakes_, left out in the _Errata_ of
_Numismata_; but, upon discovery, immediately after, notify'd, and
reform'd in the next _Philosophical Transactions_ of that Month.
Amico carissimo _Johanni Evelyno_,
Armigero,
e Societate Regali Londini, J. Beale, _S.P.D._ _In_ Silvam.
Fare age quid causae est quod tu _Silvestria_ pangis,
Inter _Silvanos_, capripedesque _Deos_?
Inter _Hamadryadas_ laetus, _Dryadasque_ pudicas,
Cum tua _Cyrrhæis_ sit _Chelys_ apta modis!
Scilicet hoc cecinit numerosus _Horatius_ olim,
_Scriptorum Silvam_ quod _Chorus Omnis amat_.
Est locus ille Sacer _Musis, & Apolline_ dignus,
Prima dedit summo _Templa_ sacranda _Jovi_.
Hinc quoque nunc Pontem _Pontus_ non respuit ingens,
Stringitur _Oceanus_, corripiturque Salum.
Hinc novus _Hesperiis_ emersit mundus in oris,{cii:1}
Effuditque auri flumina larga probi.
Hinc exundavit distento _Copia cornu_,
Qualem & _Amalthææ_ non habuere sinus.
_Silva_ tibi curae est, grata & _Pomona_ refundit
Auriferum, roseum, purpureumque _nemus_.
Illa famemque sitimque abigens expirat odores,
Quales nec _Medus_, nec tibi mittit _Arabs_.
Ambrosiam praebent modo cocta _Cydonia_. Tantum
Comprime, Nectareo _Poma_ liquore fluunt.
Progredere, _O Sæcli Cultor_ memorande futuri,
Felix _Horticolam_ sic imitere Deum.
FOOTNOTES:
{cii:1} Gen. 1. _c._ 2.
Nobilissimo Viro _Johanni Evelyno_,
Regalis _Soc. Socio dignissimo_.
Ausus laudato qui quondam reddere versu,
Æternum & tentare melos, conamine magno
_Lucretî_ nomenque suum donaverat aevo:
Ille leves atomos audaci pangere musa
Aggreditur, variis & semina caeca figuris,
Naturaeque vias: non quæ Schola garrula jactat,
Non quae rixanti fert barbara turba _Lyaeo_:
Ingentes animi sensus, & pondera rerum,
Grandior expressit Genius, nec scripta minora
_Ev'linum_ decuisse solent.
Tuque per obscuros (victor _Boylæe_) recessus,
Naturae meditaris opus, qua luce colores{ciii:1}
Percipimus, quali magnus ferit organa motu
_Cartesius_, quali volitant primordia plexu
Ex atomis, _Gassende_, tuis; simulacraque rerum
Diffugiunt tacito vastum per inane meatu:
Mutato varios mentitur lana colores
Lumine; dum tales ardens habet ipse figuras
Purpura, Sidonioque aliae tinxere veneno:
Materiam assiduo variatam, ut _Protea_, motu
Concipis, hinc formae patuit nascentis origo,
Hinc hominum species, & vasti machina caeli:{ciii:2}
Ipse creare deus, solusque ostendere mundum
_Boylæus_ potuit, sed nunc favet aemula virtus,
(Magne _Eveline_) tibi, & generosos excitat ignes:
Pergite, _Scipiadæ duo_, qui vet mille _Marones_
Obruitis, longo & meriti lassatis honore.
Tu vero dilecte nimis! qui stemmate ab alto
Patricios deducis avos, cerasque parentum
_Wottonicæ_{civ:1} de stirpe domus; virtutibus aequas
Nunc generis monumenta tui, post taedia ponti
Innumerasque errore vias, quid _Sequana_ fallax,
Hostilis quae _Rhenus_ agit, quae _Tibris_, & _Ister_,
Nota tibi: triplici quid perfida _Roma_ corona
Gessit, & _Adriaca Venetus_ deliberat arce,
Qualiaque _Odrysias_ vexârunt prælia lunas.
Hic qui naturae interpres & sedulus artis
Cultor, qui mores hominum cognovit, & urbes:
Dum _Phoebo_ comes ire parat, mentemque capacem
Vidit uterque polus, nec _Grajum_ cana vetustas
Hunc latuit; veterum nunc prisca numismata regum
Eruit, & _Latias_ per mystica templa ruinas:
Æstimat ille forum, & vasti fundamina Circi,
Cumque ruinoso _Capitolia_ prisca theatro,
Et dominos colles altaeque palatia _Romæ_:
Regales notat inde domos, ut mole superba
Surgat apex, molles quae tecta imitantur _Ionas_,{civ:2}
Qualia _Romulea_, _Gothica_ quae marmora dextra,
Quicquid _Tuscus_ habet, mira panduntur ab arte.
O famae patriaeque sacer! vel diruta chartis
Vivet _Roma_ tuis; te vindice, laeta _Corinthus_
Stabit adhuc, magno nequiquam invisa _Metello_.
Nunc quoque _ruris_ opes dulcesque ante omnia curas
Pandis ovans; tristes maneat quae cura _Decembres_;
_Pleiades_ haec _Hyadesque_ jubent, haec laeta _Bootes_
Semina mandat humi, atque ardenti haec _Sirius_ agro
Coepit ut aestiva segetes torrere favilla,
Hoc _Maii_ vernantis opus, dum florea serta
Invitant Dominas ruris, dum vere tepenti
Ridet ager, renovatque suos _Narcissus_ amores.
Haud aliter victrix divinam _Æneida_ vates
Lusit opus, simul & gracili modulatus avena,
Fata decent majora tuos, _Eveline_, triumphos,
Æternum renovatur honos, te nulla vetustas
Obruet, atque tua servanda volumina cedro
Durent, & meritam cingat tibi laurea frontem
Qui vitam _Silvis_ donasti & _Floribus ævum_.
R. Bohun.
FOOTNOTES:
{ciii:1} _Libro de coloribus._
{ciii:2} _De origine formarum._
{civ:1} _De Wotton in agro Surriensi._
{civ:2} _Consule librum Auctoris de Architectura._
+EIS TÊN TOU PATROS DENDROLOGIAN.+
+Hymnêsô phronimoio patros meleessin epainous,
hymnêsô epeessin aristeuonta geôrgôn;
ouraniên tanaês aretên dryos autos egrapsen,
kai potapôn geneên dendrôn kata daskion hylên.
athanatôn kydistos eê nephelêgereta Zeus,
eschen dê dendroio philais prapidessin eeldôr,
phyllois t' ambrosiois thaleras dryos estephanôto;
Angliakôn hos aristos eê theoeikelos anêr,
historiên dendrôn telesen phresi kydalimoisi,
hylogenês, kêpouros hypeirochos, hos meg' oneiar
andrasin essomenois kata gaiên poulyboteiran,
nêusi te pontoporoisi barygdoupoio thalassês.+
_Jo. Evelyn_, Fil.
THE GARDEN.
_To _J. Evelyn,_ Esquire._
I never had any other Desire so strong, and so like to Covetousness as
that one which I have had always, That I might be Master at last of a
small House and large Garden, with very moderate Conveniencies joined to
them, and there dedicate the remainder of my Life only to the Culture of
them, and study of Nature,
And there (with no Design beyond my Wall) whole and entire to lie,
In no unactive Ease, and no unglorious Poverty;
Or as _Virgil_ has said, shorter and better for me, that I might there
_Studiis florere ignobilis otî_ (though I could wish that he had rather
said, _Nobilis otii_, when he spoke of his own:) But several accidents
of my ill Fortune have disappointed me hitherto, and do still of that
Felicity; for though I have made the first and hardest step to it, by
abandoning all Ambitions and Hopes in this World, and by retiring from
the noise of all Business and almost Company; yet I stick still in the
Inn of a hired House and Garden, among Weeds and Rubbish; and without
that pleasantest Work of Human Industry, the Improvement of something
which we call (not very properly, but yet we call) our own. I am gone
out from _Sodom_, but I am not yet arrived at my little _Zoar_: _O let
me escape thither, (is it not a little one?) and my Soul shall live._ I
do not look back yet: but I have been forced to stop, and make too many
halts. You may wonder, Sir, (for this seems a little too extravagant and
Pindarical for _Prose_) what I mean by all this Preface; it is to let
you know, That though I have mist, like a Chymist, my great End, yet I
account my Affections and Endeavours well rewarded by something that I
have met with by the bye; which is, that they have procur'd to me some
part in your Kindness and esteem; and thereby the honour of having my
Name so advantagiously recommended to Posterity, by the _Epistle_ you
are pleased to prefix to the _most useful Book_ that has been written in
that kind, and which is to last as long as Months and Years.
Among many other _Arts_ and _Excellencies_ which you enjoy, I am glad to
find this Favourite of mine the most predominant, That you choose this
for your Wife, though you have hundreds of other Arts for your
Concubines; though you know them, and beget Sons upon them all, (to
which you are rich enough to allow great Legacies) yet the issue of this
seems to be design'd by you to the main of the Estate; you have taken
most pleasure in it, and bestow'd most Charges upon its Education; and I
doubt not to see that Book, which you are pleased to promise to the
World, and of which you have given us a large earnest in your Calendar,
as accomplish'd, as any thing can be expected from an _Extraordinary
Application_, and no ordinary Expences, and a long Experience. I know no
body that possesses more private Happiness than you do in your Garden;
and yet no Man who makes his Happiness more publick, by a free
communication of the Art and Knowledge of it to others. All that I my
self am able yet to do, is only to recommend to Mankind the search of
that Felicity, which you instruct them how to find and to enjoy.
1.
Happy art thou whom God does bless
With the full choice of thine own Happiness;
And happier yet, because thou'rt blest
With Prudence how to choose the best:
In Books and Gardens thou hast plac'd aright
(Things well which thou dost understand,
And both dost make with thy laborious hand)
Thy noble innocent delight:
And in thy virtuous Wife, where thou again dost meet
Both Pleasures more refin'd and sweet:
The fairest Garden in her Looks,
And in her Mind the wisest Books.
Oh! who would change these soft, yet solid Joys,
For empty Shows and senseless Noise;
And all which rank Ambition breeds,
Which seem such beauteous Flowers, and are such poisonous Weeds?
2.
When God did Man to his own Likeness make,
As much as Clay, though of the purest kind,
By the great Potters Art refin'd,
Could the Divine Impression take:
He thought it fit to place him, where
A kind of Heav'n too did appear,
As far as Earth could such a likeness bear:
That Man no Happiness might want,
Which Earth to her first Master could afford;
He did a Garden for him plant
By the quick hand of his Omnipotent Word.
As the chief Help and Joy of Humane Life,
He gave him the first Gift; first, ev'n before a Wife.
3.
For God, the universal Architect,
'T had been as easie to erect
A Louvre, or Escurial, or a Tower,
That might with Heav'n communication hold
As _Babel_ vainly thought to do of old:
He wanted not the skill or power,
In the World's Fabrick those were shown,
And the Materials were all his own.
But well he knew what place would best agree
With Innocence, and with Felicity:
And we elsewhere still seek for them in vain,
If any part of either yet remain;
If any part of either we expect,
This may our judgement in the search direct;
God the first Garden made, and the first City, _Cain_.
4.
O blessed Shades! O gentle cool retreat
From all th' immoderate Heat,
In which the frantick World does burn and sweat!
This does the Lion Star, Ambitions rage;
This Avarice, the Dog-Stars Thirst asswage;
Every where else their fatal Power we see,
They make and rule Man's wretched Destiny:
They neither set, nor disappear,
But tyrannize o'er all the Year;
Whil'st we ne'er feel their Flame or Influence here.
The Birds that dance from Bough to Bough,
And sing above in every Tree,
Are not from Fears and Cares more free,
Than we who lie, or walk below,
And should by right be Singers too.
What Princes Quire of Musick can excel
That which within this Shade does dwell?
To which we nothing pay or give,
They like all other Poets live,
Without Reward, or Thanks for their obliging Pains;
'Tis well if they become not Prey:
The Whistling Winds add their less artful Strains,
And a grave Base the murmuring Fountains play;
Nature does all this Harmony bestow,
But to our Plants, Arts, Musick too,
The Pipe, Theorbo, and Guitar we owe;
The Lute it self, which once was Green and Mute:
When _Orpheus_ struck th' inspired Lute,
The Trees danc'd round, and understood
By Sympathy the Voice of Wood.
5.
These are the Spells that to kind Sleep invite,
And nothing does within resistance make,
Which yet we moderately take;
Who wou'd not choose to be awake,
While he's incompass'd round with such delight,
To th' Ear, the Nose, the Touch, the Taste, and Sight?
When _Venus_ wou'd her dear _Ascanius_ keep
A Pris'ner in the downy Bands of Sleep,
She od'rous Herbs and Flowers beneath him spread
As the most soft and sweetest Bed;
Not her own Lap would more have charm'd his Head.
Who, that has Reason, and his Smell,
Would not among Roses and Jasmin dwell,
Rather than all his Spirits choak
With Exhalations of Dirt and Smoak?
And all th' uncleanness which does drown
In pestilential Clouds a pop'lous Town?
The Earth it self breaths better Perfumes here,
Than all the Female Men or Women there,
Not without cause about them bear.
6.
When _Epicurus_ to the World had taught,
That Pleasure was the Chiefest Good,
(And was perhaps i'th' right, if rightly understood)
His Life he to his Doctrine brought,
And in a Gardens Shade that Sovereign Pleasure sought.
Whoever a true Epicure would be,
May there find cheap and virtuous Luxury.
_Vitellius_ his Table, which did hold
As many Creatures as the Ark of old:
That Fiscal Table, to which every day
All Countries did a constant Tribute pay,
Could nothing more delicious afford,
Than Natures Liberality,
Helpt with a little Art and Industry,
Allows the meanest Gard'ners board.
The wanton Taste no Fish or Fowl can choose,
For which the Grape or Melon she would loose,
Though all th' Inhabitants of Sea and Air
Be listed in the Gluttons Bill of Fare;
Yet still the Fruits of Earth we see
Plac'd the third Story high in all her Luxury.
7.
But with no Sense the Garden does comply;
None courts or flatters, as it does the Eye:
When the great _Hebrew_ King did almost strain
The wond'rous Treasures of his Wealth and Brain,
His Royal Southern Guest to entertain;
Though she on Silver Floors did tread,
With bright _Assyrian_ Carpets on them spread,
To hide the Metals Poverty:
Though she look'd up to Roofs of Gold,
And nought around her could behold
But Silk and rich Embroidery,
And _Babylonian_ Tapistry,
And wealthy _Hiram's_ Princely Dy:
Though _Ophirs_ Starry Stones met every where her Eye;
Though she her self and her gay Host were drest
With all the shining Glories of the East;
When lavish Art her costly work had done,
The honour and the Prize of Bravery
Was by the Garden from the Palace won;
And every Rose and Lilly there did stand
Better attir'd by Natures hand:
The case thus judg'd against the King we see,
By one that would not be so Rich, though Wiser far than he.
8.
Nor does this happy place only dispense
Such various Pleasures to the Sense,
Here Health it self does live,
That Salt of Life which does to all a relish give,
Its standing Pleasure, and intrinsick Wealth,
The Bodies Virtue, and the Souls good Fortune, Health.
The Tree of Life, when it in _Eden_ stood,
Did its Immortal Head to Heaven rear;
It lasted a tall Cedar till the Flood;
Now a small thorny Shrub it does appear;
Nor will it thrive too every where:
It always here is freshest seen;
'Tis only here an Ever-green.
If through the strong and beauteous Fence
Of Temperance and Innocence,
And wholesome Labours, and a quiet Mind,
Diseases Passage find,
They must not think here to assail
A Land unarmed, or without a Guard;
They must fight for it, and dispute it hard,
Before they can prevail:
Scarce any Plant is growing here
Which against Death some Weapon does not bear.
Let Cities boast, that they provide
For Life the Ornaments of Pride;
But 'tis the Country and the Field,
That furnish it with Staff and Shield.
9.
Where does the Wisdom and the Power Divine
In a more bright and sweet Reflection shine?
Where do we finer Strokes and Colours see
Of the Creator's real Poetry,
Than when we with attention look
Upon the third days Volume of the Book?
If we could open and intend our Eye,
We all like _Moses_ should espy
Ev'n in a Bush the radiant Deity.
But we despise these his inferior ways,
(Though no less full of Miracle and Praise)
Upon the Flowers of Heaven we gaze;
The Stars of Earth no wonder in us raise,
Though these perhaps do more than they,
The Life of Mankind sway.
Although no part of mighty Nature be
More stor'd with Beauty, Power, and Mystery;
Yet to encourage human Industry,
God has so ordered, that no other Part
Such Space, and such Dominion leaves for Art.
10.
We no where Art do so triumphant see,
As when it Grafts or Buds the Tree;
In other things we count it to excel,
If it a Docile Scholar can appear
To Nature, and but imitate her well;
It over-rules, and is her Master here.
It imitates her Makers Power Divine,
And changes her sometimes, and sometimes does refine:
It does, like Grace, the fallen Tree restore
To its blest State of Paradise before:
Who would not joy to see his conquering hand
O'er all the vegetable World command?
And the wild Giants of the Wood receive
What Law he's pleas'd to give?
He bids th' ill-natur'd Crab produce
The gentle Apples Winy Juice;
The golden Fruit that worthy is
Of _Galetea_'s purple Kiss;
He does the savage Hawthorn teach
To bear the Medlar and the Pear,
He bids the rustick Plumb to rear
A noble Trunk, and be a Peach,
Ev'n _Daphnes_ Coyness he does mock,
And weds the Cherry to her stock,
Though she refus'd _Apollo_'s suit;
Ev'n she, that chast and Virgin-tree
Now wonders at her self, to see
That she's a Mother made, and blushes in her fruit.
11.
Methinks I see Great _Diocletian_ walk
In the _Salonian_ Gardens noble Shade,
Which by his own Imperial hands was made:
I see him smile, methinks, as he does talk
With the Ambassadors, who come in vain
T' entice him to a Throne again:
If I, my Friends (said he) should to you show
All the Delights, which in these Gardens grow;
'Tis likelier much, that you should with me stay,
Than 'tis that you should carry me away:
And trust me not, my Friends, if every day,
I walk not here with more delight,
Than ever after the most happy fight,
In Triumph to the Capitol I rod,
To thank the gods, and to be thought my self almost a god.
_Chertsea, Aug 16, 1666._
_Abraham Cowley._
DENDROLOGIA
THE FIRST BOOK
CHAPTER I.
_Of the Earth, Soil, Seed, Air, and Water._
1. It is not my intention here to speak of earth, as one of the common
reputed elements; of which I have long since publish'd an ample account,
in an express Treatise (annexed to this volume,) which I desire my
reader to peruse; since it might well commute for the total omission of
this chapter, did not method seem to require something briefly to be
said: Which first, as to that of earth, we shall need at present to
penetrate no deeper into her bosom, than after paring of the turfe,
scarrifiying the upper-mould, and digging convenient pits and trenches,
not far from the natural surface, without disturbing the several strata
and remoter layers, whether of clay, chalk, gravel, sand, or other
successive layers, and concrets fossil, (tho' all of them useful
sometimes, and agreeable to our foresters;) tho' few of them what one
would chuse before the under-turfe, black, brown, gray, and light, and
breaking into short clods, and without any disagreeable scent, and with
some mixture of marle or loame, but not clammy; of which I have
particularly spoken in that Treatise.
2. In the mean time, this of the soil, (which I think is a more proper
term for composts) or mould rather, being of greater importance for the
raising, planting, and propagation of trees in general, must at no hand
be neglected, and is therefore on all occasions mentioned in almost
every chapter of our ensuing discourse; I shall therefore not need to
assign it any part, when I have affirm'd in general, that most
timber-trees grow and prosper well in any tolerable land which will
produce corn or rye, and which is not in excess stony; in which
nevertheless there are some trees delight; or altogether clay, which
few, or none do naturally affect; and yet the oak is seen to prosper in
it, for its toughness preferr'd before any other by many workmen, though
of all soils the cow-pasture doth certainly exceed, be it for what
purpose soever of planting wood. Rather therefore we should take notice
how many great wits and ingenious persons, who have leisure and faculty,
are in pain for improvements of their heaths and barren Hills, cold and
starving places, which causes them to be neglected and despair'd of;
whilst they flatter their hopes and vain expectations with fructifying
liquors, chymical menstruums, and such vast conceptions; in the mean
time that one may shew them as heathy and hopeless grounds, and barren
hills as any in England, that do now bear, or lately have born woods,
groves, and copses, which yield the owners more wealth, than the richest
and most opulent wheat-lands: and if it be objected that 'tis so long a
day before these plantations can afford that gain; the Brabant
Nurseries, and divers home-plantations of industrious persons are
sufficient to convince the gain-sayer. And when by this husbandry a few
acorns shall have peopl'd the neighbouring regions with young stocks
and trees; the residue will become groves and copses of infinite delight
and satisfaction to the planters. Besides, we daily see what course
lands will bear these stocks (suppose them oaks, wall-nuts, chess-nuts,
pines, firr, ash, wild-pears, crabs, &c.) and some of them (as for
instance the pear and the firr or pine) strike their roots through the
roughest and most impenetrable rocks and clefts of stone it self; and
others require not any rich or pinguid, but very moderate soil;
especially, if committed to it in seeds, which allies them to their
mother and nurse without renitency or regret: And then considering what
assistances a little care in easing and stirring of the ground about
them for a few years does afford them: What cannot a strong plow, a
winter mellowing, and summer heats, incorporated with the pregnant turf,
or a slight assistance of lime, loam, sand, rotten compost, discreetly
mixed (as the case may require) perform even in the most unnatural and
obstinate soil? And in such places where anciently woods have grown, but
are now unkind to them, the fault is to be reformed by this care; and
chiefly, by a sedulous extirpation of the old remainders of roots, and
latent stumps, which by their mustiness, and other pernicious qualities,
sowre the ground, and poyson the conception; and herewith let me put in
this note, that even an over-rich, and pinguid composition, is by no
means the proper bed either for seminary or nursery, whilst even the
natural soil it self does frequently discover and point best to the
particular species, though some are for all places alike: Nor should the
earth be yet perpetually crop'd with the same, or other seeds, without
due repose, but lie some time fallow to receive the influence of
heaven, according to good husbandry. But I shall say no more of these
particulars at this time, because the rest is sprinkl'd over this whole
work in their due places; wherefore we hasten to the following title;
namely, the choice and ordering of the seeds.
3. Chuse your seed of that which is perfectly mature, ponderous and
sound; commonly that which is easily shaken from the boughs, or gathered
about November, immediately upon its spontaneous fall, or taken from the
tops and summities of the fairest and soundest trees, is best, and does
(for the most part) direct to the proper season of interring, &c.
according to institution.
Nature herself who all created first,
Invented sowing, and the wild plants nurs't:
When mast and berries from the trees did drop,
Succeeded under by a numerous crop.{4:1}
Yet this is to be consider'd, that if the place you sow in be too cold
for an autumnal semination, your acorns, mast, and other seeds may be
prepared for the vernal by being barrel'd, or potted up in moist sand,
or earth stratum s.s. during the winter; at the expiration whereof you
will find them sprouted; and being committed to the earth, with a tender
hand, as apt to take as if they had been sown with the most early; nay,
with great advantage: By this means too, they have escaped the vermine,
(which are prodigious devourers of winter-sowing) and will not be much
concern'd with the increasing heat of the season, as such as being
crude, and unfermented, are newly sown in the beginning of the spring;
especially, in hot and loose grounds; being already in so fair a
progress by this artificial preparation; and which, (if the provision to
be made be very great) may be thus manag'd. Chuse a fit piece of ground,
and with boards (if it have not that position of it self) design it
three foot high; lay the first foot in fine earth, another of seeds,
acorns, mast, keys, nuts, haws, holly-berries, &c. promiscuously, or
separate, with (now and then) a little mould sprinkled amongst them: The
third foot wholly earth: Of these preparatory magazines make as many,
and as much larger ones as will serve your turn, continuing it from time
to time as your store is brought in. The same for ruder handlings, may
you also do by burying your seeds in dry sand, or pulveriz'd earth,
barrelling them (as I said) in tubs, or laid in heaps in some deep
cellar where the rigour of the winter may least prejudice them; and I
have fill'd old hampers, bee-hives, and boxes with them, and found the
like advantage, which is to have them ready for your seminary, as before
hath been shew'd, and exceedingly prevent the season. There be also who
affirm, that the careful cracking and opening of stones which include
the kernels, as soon as ripe, precipitate growth, and gain a years
advance; but this is erroneous. Now if you gather them in moist weather,
lay them a drying, and so keep them till you sow, which may be as soon
as you please after Christmas. If they spire out before you sow them, be
sure to commit them to the earth before the sprout grows dry, or else
expect little from them: And whenever you sow, if you prevent not the
little field mouse, he will be sure to have the better share. See cap.
XVIII.
4. But to pursue this to some farther advantage; as to what concerns the
election of your seed, it is to be consider'd, that there is vast
difference, (what if I should affirm more than an hundred years) in
trees even of the same growth and bed, which I judge to proceed from the
variety and quality of the seed: This, for instance, is evidently seen
in the heart, procerity and stature of timber; and therefore chuse not
your seeds always from the most fruitful-trees, which are commonly the
most aged, and decayed; but from such as are found most solid and fair:
Nor, for this reason, covet the largest acorns, &c. but (as husbandmen
do their wheat) the most weighty, clean and bright: This observation we
deduce from fruit-trees, which we seldom find to bear so kindly and
plentifully from a sound stock, smooth rind, and firm wood, as from a
rough, lax, and untoward tree; which is rather prone to spend itself in
fruit, (the ultimate effort, and final endeavour of its most delicate
sap,) than in solid and close substance to encrease the timber. And this
shall suffice, though some haply might here recommend to us a more
accurate microscopical examen, to interpret their most secret
schematismes, which were an over-nicety for these great plantations.
5. As concerning the medicating and insuccation of seeds, or enforcing
the earth by rich and generous composts, &c. for trees of these kinds, I
am no great favourer of it; not only because the charge would much
discourage the work; but for that we find it unnecessary, and for most
of our forest-trees, noxious; since even where the ground is too
fertile, they thrive not so well; and if a mould be not proper for one
sort, it may be fit for another: Yet I would not (by this) hinder any
from the trial, what advance such experiments will produce: In the mean
time, for the simple imbibition of some seeds and kernels, when they
prove extraordinary dry, as the season may fall out, it might not be
amiss to macerate them in milk or water only, a little impregnated with
cow-dung, &c. during the space of twenty four hours, to give them a
spirit to sprout and chet the sooner; especially if you have been
retarded in your sowing without our former preparation: But concerning
the mould, soiling and preparations of the ground, I refer you to my
late Treatise of Earth, if what you meet with in this do not abundantly
encounter all those difficulties.
6. Being thus provided with seeds of all kinds, I would advise to raise
woods by sowing them apart, in several places destin'd for their growth,
where the mould being prepar'd (as I shall shew hereafter) and so
qualified (if election be made) as best to suit with the nature of the
species, they may be sown promiscuously, which is the most natural and
rural; or in streight and even lines, for hedge-rows, avenues, and
walks, which is the more ornamental: But, because some may chuse rather
to draw them out of nurseries; that the culture is not much different,
nor the hinderance considerable (provided they be early and carefully
removed) I will finish what I have to say concerning these trees in the
seminary, and shew how they are there to be raised, transplanted, and
govern'd till they can shift for themselves.
As to the air and water, they are certainly of almost as great
importance to the life and prosperity of trees and vegetables; and
therefore it is to be wish'd for and sought, where they are defective;
and which commonly follow, or indicate the nature of the soil, or the
soil of them; (taking soil here promiscuously for the mould;) that they
be neither too keen or sharp, too cold or hot; not infected with foggs
and poys'nous vapours, or expos'd to sulphurous exhalations, or
frigiverous winds, reverberating from hills, and other ill-situate
eminencies, pressing down the incumbent particles so tainted, or
convey'd through the inclosed valleys: But such as may gently enter and
pervade the cenabs and vessels destin'd and appointed for their
reception, intromission, respiration, and passage, in almost continual
motion: In a word, such as is most agreeable to the life of man, the
inverted head compared to the root, both vegetables and animals alike
affected with those necessary principles, air and water, soon suffocated
and perishable for the want of either, duly qualified with their proper
mixts, be it nitre, or any other vegetable matter; though we neither
see, nor distinctly taste it: So as all aquatics, how deeply soever
submerg'd, could not subsist without this active element the air.
The same qualification is (as we said) required in water, to which 'tis
of so near alliance, and whose office it is, not only to humectate,
mollify, and prepare both the seeds, and roots of vegetables, to receive
the nutrition, pabulum, and food, of which this of water as well as air,
are the proper vehicles, insinuating what they carry into the numerous
pores, and through the tubes, canales, and other emulgent passages and
percolutions to the several vessels, where (as in a stomach) it is
elaborated, concocted, and digested, for distribution through every
part of the plant; and therefore had need be such as should feed, not
starve, infect or corrupt; which depends upon the nature and quality of
the mix'd, with what other virtue, spirit, mineral, or other particles,
accompanying the purest springs, (to appearance) passing through the
closest strainers. This therefore requires due examination, and
sometimes exposure to the air and sun, and accordingly the crudity, and
other defects taken off and qualified: All which, rain-water, that has
had its natural circulation, is greatly free from, so it meets with no
noxious vapours in the descent, as it must do passing through fuliginous
clouds of smoak and soot, over and about great cities, and other
vulcanos, continually vomiting out their acrimonious, and sometimes
pestiferous fervor, infecting the ambient air, as it perpetually does
about London, and for many adjacent miles, as I have elsewhere{9:1}
shew'd.
In the mean time, whether water alone is the cause of the solid and
bulky part, and consequently of the augmentation of trees and plants,
without any thing more to do with that element (tho' as it serves to
transport some other matter) is very ingenuously discuss'd, and
curiously enquired into by Dr. _Woodward_, in his _History of the
Earth_; fortified with divers nice experiments, too large to be here
inserted: The sum is, that water, be it of rain, or the river (superior
or inferior) carries with it a certain superfine terrestrial matter, not
destitute of vegetative particles; which gives body, substance, and all
other requisites to the growth and perfection of the plant, with the aid
of that due heat which gives life and motion to the vehicles passage
through all the parts of the vegetable, continually ascending, 'till
(having sufficiently saturated them) it transpires the rest of the
liquid at the summity and tops of the branches into the atmosphere, and
leaving some of the less refined matter in a viscid hony-dew, or other
exsudations, (often perceived on the leaves and blossoms,) anon
descending and joining again with what they meet, repeat this course in
perpetual circulation: Add to this, that from hence those regions and
places crowded with numerous and thick standing forest-trees and woods,
(which hinder the necessary evolition of this superfluous moisture, and
intercourse of the air) render those countries and places, more subject
to rain and mists, and consequently unwholsome; as is found in our
American plantations, as formerly nearer us, in Ireland; both since so
much improved by felling and clearing these spacious shades, and letting
in the air and sun, and making the earth fit for tillage, and pasture,
that those gloomy tracts are now become healthy and habitable. It is not
to be imagined how many noble seats and dwellings in this nation of
ours, (to all appearance well situated,) are for all that unhealthful,
by reason of some grove, or hedge-rows of antiquated dotard trees; nay,
sometimes a single tuft only, (especially the falling autumnal leaves
neglected to be taken away) filling the air with musty and noxious
exhalations; which being ventilated, by glades cut through them, for
passage of the stagnant vapours, have been cur'd of this evil, and
recovered their reputation.
But to return to where we left; water in this action, imbib'd with such
matter, applicable to every species of plants and vegetables, does not
as we affirm'd, operate to the full extent and perfection of what it
gives and contributes of necessary and constituent matter, without the
soil and temper of the climate co-operate; which otherwise, retards both
the growth and substance of what the earth produces, sensibly altering
their qualities, if some friendly and genial heat be wanting to exert
the prolifick virtue: This we find, that the hot and warmer regions
produce the tallest and goodliest trees and plants, in stature and other
properties far exceeding those of the same species, born in the cold
north: So as what is a gyant in the one, becomes a pumilo, and in
comparison, but a shrubby dwarf in the other; deficient of that active
spirit, which elevates and spreads its prolifick matter and continual
supplies without check, and is the cause of not only the leaves
deserting the branches, whilst those trees and plants of the more benign
climate, are clad in perennial verdure: And those herbacious plants,
which with us in the hottest seasons hardly perfect their seeds before
Winter, and require to be near their genial beds and nurse, and
sometimes the artificial heat of the hot-bed. Lastly, to all this I
would add that other chearful vehicle, light; which the gloomy and
torpent north is so many months depriv'd of; the too long seclusion
whereof is injurious to our exotics, kept in the conservatories, since
however temper'd with heat, and duly refresh'd; they grow sickly, and
languish without the admission of light as well as air, as I have
frequently found.
FOOTNOTES:
{4:1}
Nam specimen sationis, & infitionis origo
Ipsa fuit rerum primum natura creatrix:
Arboribus quoniam baccæ, glandesque caducæ
Tempestiva dabant pullorum examina subter, &c.
_Lucret._ l. 5.
{9:1} Fumifugium.
CHAPTER II.
_Of the Seminary and of Transplanting._
1. _Qui vineam, vel arbustum constituere volet, seminaria prius facere
debebit_, was the precept of Columella, l. 3. c. 5. speaking of
vineyards and fruit-trees: and doubtless, we cannot pursue a better
course for the propagation of timber-trees: For though it seem but a
trivial design that one should make a nursery of foresters; yet it is
not to be imagin'd, without the experience of it, what prodigious
numbers a very small spot of ground well cultivated, and destin'd for
this purpose, would be able to furnish towards the sending forth of
yearly colonies into all the naked quarters of a lordship, or demesnes;
being with a pleasant industry liberally distributed amongst the
tenants, and dispos'd of about the hedg-rows, and other waste, and
uncultivated places, for timber, shelter, fuel, and ornament, to an
incredible advantage. This being a cheap, and laudable work, of so much
pleasure in the execution, and so certain a profit in the event; to be
but once well done (for, as I affirm'd, a very small _plantarium_ or
nursery will in a few years people a vast extent of ground) hath made me
sometimes in admiration at the universal negligence, as well as rais'd
my admiration, that seeds and plants of such different kinds, should
like so many tender babes and infants suck and thrive at the same
breast: Though there are some indeed will not so well prosper in
company; requiring peculiar juices: But this niceness is more
conspicuous in flowers and the herbacious offspring, than in foresters,
which require only diligent weeding and frequent cleansing, till they
are able to shift for themselves; and as their vessels enlarge and
introsume more copious nourishment, often starve their neighbours. Thus
much for the nursery and _Conseminea Silva_.
2. Having therefore made choice of such seeds as you would sow, by
taking, and gathering them in their just season; that is, when dropping
ripe; and (as has been said) from fair thriving trees; and found out
some fit place of ground, well fenced, respecting the south-east, rather
than the full south, and well protected from the north and west;
He that for wood his field would sow,
Must clear it of the shrubs that grow;
Cut brambles up, and the fern mow.{13:1}
This done, let it be broken up the winter before you sow, to mellow it;
especially if it be a clay, and then the furrow would be made deeper; or
so, at least, as you would prepare it for wheat: Or you may trench it
with the spade, by which means it will the easier be cleansed of
whatsoever may obstruct the putting forth, and insinuating of the tender
roots: Then, having given it a second stirring, immediately before you
sow; cast, and dispose it into rills, or small narrow trenches, of four
or five inches deep, and in even lines, at two foot interval, for the
more commodious runcation, hawing, and dressing the trees: Into these
furrows (about the new or increasing moon) throw your oak, beach, ash,
nuts, all the glandiferous seeds, mast, and key-bearing kinds, so as
they lie not too thick, and then cover them very well with a rake, or
fine-tooth'd harrow, as they do for pease: Or, to be more accurate, you
may set them as they do beans (especially, the nuts and acorns) and that
every species by themselves, for the _Roboraria_, _Glandaria_,
_Ulmaria_, &c., which is the better way: This is to be done at the
latter end of October, for the autumnal sowing; and in the lighter
ground about February for the vernal: For other seminations in general;
some divide the spring in three parts; the beginning, middle, and end;
and the like of the autumn both for sowing and planting, and accordingly
prepare for the work such nursery furniture, as seems most agreeable to
the season.
Then see your hopeful grove with acorns sown,
But e're your seed into the field be thrown,
With crooked plough first let the lusty swain
Break-up, and stubborn clods with harrow plain.
Then, when the stemm appears, to make it bare
And lighten the hard earth with hough, prepare.
Hough in the spring: nor frequent culture fail,
Lest noxious weeds o're the young wood prevail:
To barren ground with toyl large manure add,
Good-husbandry will force a ground that's bad.{14:1}
Note that 6 bushels of acorns will sow or plant an acre, at one foot's
distance. And if you mingle among the acorns the seeds of _Genista
spinosa_, or furs, they will come up without any damage, and for a while
needs no other fence, and will be kill'd by the shade of the young
oaklings before they become able to do them any prejudice.
One rule I must not omit, that you cast no seeds into the earth whilst
it either actually rains, or that it be over sobb'd, till moderately
dry.
To this might something be expected concerning the watring of our
seminaries and new plantations; which indeed require some useful
directions (especially in that you do by hand) that you pour it not with
too great a stream on the stem of the plant, (which washes and drives
away the mould from the roots and fibers) but at such distance as it may
percolate into the earth, and carry its vertue to them, with a shallow
excavation, or circular basin about the stalk; and which may be defended
from being too suddenly exhausted and drunk up by the sun, and taken
away before it grow mouldy. The tender stems and branches should yet be
more gently refreshed, lest the too intense rays of the sun darting on
them, cause them to wither, as we see in our fibrous flower-roots newly
set: In the mean time, for the more ample young plantations of forest
and other trees, I should think the hydrantick engine (call'd the
quench-fire) (described in the _Phil. Transaction_, Num. 128) might be
made very useful, rightly manag'd, and not too violently pointed against
any single trees, but so exalted and directed, as the stream being
spread, the water might fall on the ground like drops of rain; which I
should much prefer before the barrels and tumbral way. Rain, river or
pond-waters reserved in tubs or cisterns simple, or inrich'd, and abroad
in the sun, should be frequently stirred, and kept from stagnation.
4. Your plants beginning now to peep, should be earthed up, and
comforted a little; especially, after breaking of the greater frosts,
and when the swelling mould is apt to spue them forth; but when they are
about an inch above ground, you may in a moist season, draw them up
where they are too thick, and set them immediately in other lines, or
beds prepar'd for them; or you may plant them in double fosses, where
they may abide for good and all, and to remain till they are of a
competent stature to be transplanted; where they should be set at such
distances as their several kinds require; but if you draw them only for
the thinning of your seminary, prick them into some empty beds (or a
_Plantarium_ purposely design'd) at one foot interval, leaving the rest
at two or three.
5. When your seedlings have stood thus till June, bestow a slight
digging upon them, and scatter a little mungy, half-rotten litter, fern,
bean-hame, or old leaves among them, to preserve the roots from
scorching, and to entertain the moisture; and then in March following
(by which time it will be quite consum'd, and very mellow) you shall
chop it all into the earth, and mingle it together: Continue this
process for two or three years successively; for till then, the
substance of the kernel will hardly be spent in the plant, which is of
main import; but then (and that the stature of your young imps invite)
you may plant them forth, carefully taking up their roots, and cutting
the stem within an inch of the ground (if the kind, of which hereafter,
suffer the knife) set them where they are to continue: If thus you
reduce them to the distance of forty foot, the intervals may be planted
with ash, which may be fell'd either for poles, or timber, without the
least prejudice of the oak: Some repeat the cutting we spake of the
second year, and after March (the moon decreasing) re-cut them at half a
foot from the surface; and then meddle with them no more: But this (if
the process be not more severe than needs) must be done with a very
sharp instrument, and with care, lest you violate, and unsettle the
root; which is likewise to be practis'd upon all those which you did not
transplant, unless you find them very thriving trees; and then it shall
suffice to prune off the branches, and spare the tops; for this does not
only greatly establish your plants by diverting the sap to the roots;
but likewise frees them from the injury and concussions of the winds,
and makes them to produce handsome, streight shoots, infinitely
preferable to such as are abandon'd to nature, and accident, without
this discipline: By this means the oak will become excellent timber,
shooting into streight and single stems: The chess-nut, ash, &c.
multiply into poles, which you may reduce to standards at pleasure: To
this I add, that as oft as you make your annual transplanting, out of
the nursery, by drawing forth the choicest stocks, the remainder will be
improved by a due stirring, and turning of the mould about their roots.
But that none be discouraged, who may upon some accident, be desirous,
or forc'd to transplant trees, where the partial, or unequal ground does
not afford sufficient room, or soil to make the pits equally capacious,
(and so apt to nourish and entertain the roots, as where are no
impediments), the worthy Mr. Brotherton (whom we shall have occasion to
mention more than once in this treatise) speaking of the increase and
improvement of roots, tells us of a large pinaster, 2 foot and ½
diameter, and about 60 foot in height, the lowest boughs being 30 foot
above the ground, which did spread and flourish on all sides alike,
though it had no root at all towards three quarters of its situation,
and but one quarter only, into which it expanded its roots so far as to
70 and 80 foot from the body of the tree: The reason was, its being
planted just within the square-angle of the corner of a deep, thick and
strong stone-wall, which was a kind wharfing against a river running by
it, and so could have nourishment but from one quarter. And this I
likewise might confirm of two elms, planted by me about 35 years since;
which being little bigger than walking-staves, and set on the very brink
of a ditch or narrow channel (not always full of water) wharfed with a
wall of a brick and half in thickness, (to keep the bank from falling
in) are since grown to goodly and equally spreading trees of near two
foot diameter, solid timber, and of stature proportionable. The
difference between this, and that of the pine, being their having one
quarter more of mould for the roots to spread in; but which is not at
all discover'd by the exuberence of the branches in either part. But to
return to planting, where are no such obstacles.
6. _Theophrastus_ in his Third Book _de Causis_, c. 7. gives us great
caution in planting, to preserve the roots, and especially the earth
adhering to the smallest fibrills, which should by no means be shaken
off, as most of our gardeners do to trim and quicken them, as they
pretend, which is to cut them shorter; though I forbid not a very small
toping of the stragling threds, which may else hinder the spreading of
the rest, &c. Not at all considering, that those tender hairs are the
very mouths, and vehicles which suck in the nutriment, and transfuse it
into all the parts of the tree, and that these once perishing, the
thicker and larger roots, hard, and less spungy, signifie little but to
establish the stem; as I have frequently experimented in orange-trees,
whose fibers are so very obnoxious to rot, if they take in the least
excess of wet: And therefore _Cato_ advises us to take care that we bind
the mould about them, or transfer the roots in baskets, to preserve it
from forsaking them; as now our nursery-men frequently do; by which they
of late are able to furnish our grounds, avenues and gardens in a moment
with trees and other plants, which would else require many years to
appear in such perfection: For this earth being already applied, and
fitted to the overtures and mouths of the fibers, it will require some
time to bring them in appetite again to a new mould, by which to repair
their loss, furnish their stock, and proceed in their wonted oeconomy
without manifest danger and interruption: nor less ought our care to be
in the making, and dressing of the pits and fosses, into which we design
our transplantation, which should be prepar'd and left some time open to
macerating rains, frosts and sun, that may resolve the compacted salt,
(as some will have it) render the earth friable, mix and qualifie it for
aliment, and to be more easily drawn in, and digested by the roots and
analogous stomach of the trees: This, to some degree may be artificially
done, by burning of straw in the newly opened pits, and drenching the
mould with water; especially in over-dry seasons, and by meliorating
barren-ground with sweet and comminuted loetations: Let therefore this be
received as a maxim, never to plant a fruit or forest-tree where there
has lately been an old decay'd one taken up; till the pit be well
ventilated, and furnish'd with fresh mould.
7. The author of the Natural History, _Pliny_, tells us it was a vulgar
tradition, in his time, that no tree should be removed under two years
old, or above three: _Cato_ would have none transplanted less than five
fingers in diameter; but I have shew'd why we are not to attend so long
for such as we raise of seedlings. In the interim, if these directions
appear too busie, or operose, or that the plantation you intend be very
ample, a more compendious method will be the confused sowing of acorns,
&c. in furrows, two foot asunder, covered at three fingers depth, and so
for three years cleansed, and the first winter cover'd with fern,
without any farther culture, unless you transplant them; but, as I
shewed before, in nurseries, they would be cut an inch from the ground,
and then let stand till March the second year, when it shall be
sufficient to disbranch them to one only shoot, whether you suffer them
to stand, or remove them elsewhere. But to make an essay what seed is
most agreeable to the soil, you may by the thriving of a promiscuous
semination make a judgment of,
What each soil bears, and what it does refuse.{20:1}
transplanting those which you find least agreeing with the place; or
else, by copsing the starvelings in the places where they are newly
sown, cause them sometimes to overtake even their untouch'd
contemporaries.
Something may here be expected about the fittest season for this work of
transplanting; of which having spoken in another{21:1} treatise, annext
to this, (as well as in divers other places throughout this of
Forest-trees) I shall need add little; after I have recommended the
earliest removals, not only of all the sturdy sort in our woods, but
even of some less tender trees in our orchards; pears, apples, vulgar
cherries, &c. whilst we favour the delicate and tender murals, and such
as are pithy; as the wall-nut, and some others. But after all, what says
the plain wood-man, speaking of oaks, beech, elms, haw-thorns, and even
what we call wild and hedge-fruit? Set them, says he, at All-hallowtide,
and command them to prosper; set them at Candlemass, and intreat them to
grow. Nor needs it explanation.
8. But here some may enquire what distances I would generally assign to
transplanted trees? To this somewhat is said in the ensuing periods, and
as occasion offers; though the promiscuous rising of them in
forest-work, wild and natural, is to us, I acknowledge, more pleasing
than all the studied accuracy in ranging of them; unless it be where
they conduct and lead us to avenues, and are planted for _vistas_ (as
the _Italians_ term is) in which case, the proportion of the breadth and
length of the walks, &c. should govern, as well as the nature of the
tree; with this only note; that such trees as are rather apt to spread,
than mount (as the oak, beech, wall-nut, &c.) be dispos'd at wider
intervals, than the other, and such as grow best in consort, as the
elm, ash, limetree, sycamore, firr, pine, &c. Regard is likewise to be
had to the quality of the soil, for this work: v. g. If trees that
affect cold and moist grounds, be planted in hot and dry places, then
set them at closer order; but trees which love dry and thirsty grounds,
at farther distance: The like rule may also guide in situations expos'd
to impetuous winds and other accidents, which may serve for general
rules in this piece of tactics. In the mean time, if you plant for
regular walks, or any single trees, a competent elevation of the earth
in circle, and made a little hollow like a shallow bason (as I already
mention'd) for the reception of water, and refreshing the roots;
sticking thorns about the edges to protect them from cattel, were not
amiss. Fruit-trees thus planted, if beans be set about them, produces a
little crop, and will shade the surface, perhaps, without any detriment:
But this more properly belongs to Pomona. Most shrubs of ever-green and
some trees may be planted very near one another; myrtles, laurel, bays,
Cyprus, yew, ivy, pomegranates, and others, also need little distance,
and indeed whatever is proper to make hedges: But for the oak, elm,
wall-nut, firs, and the taller timber-trees, let the dismal effects of
the late hurricane (never to be forgotten) caution you never to plant
them too near the mansion, (or indeed any other house) that so if such
accident happen, their fall and ruin may not reach them.
9. To leave nothing omitted which may contribute to the stability of our
transplanted trees, something is to be premis'd concerning their
staking, and securing from external injuries, especially from winds and
cattel; against both which, such as are planted in copses, and for
ample woods, are sufficiently defended by the mounds and their closer
order; especially, if they rise of seeds: But where they are expos'd in
single rows, as in walks and avenues, the most effectual course is to
empale them with three good quartet-stakes of competent length, set in
triangle, and made fast to one another by short pieces above and
beneath; in which a few brambles being stuck, secure it abundantly
without that choaking or fretting, to which trees are obnoxious that are
only single staked and bushed, as the vulgar manner is: Nor is the
charge of this so considerable as the great advantage, accounting for
the frequent reparations which the other will require. Where cattel do
not come, I find a good piece of rope, tyed fast about the neck of trees
upon a wisp of straw to preserve it from galling, and the other end
tightly strein'd to a hook or peg in the ground (as the shrouds in ships
are fastened to the masts) sufficiently stablishes my trees against the
western blasts without more trouble; for the winds of other quarters
seldom infest us. But these cords had need be well pitch'd to preserve
them from wet, and so they will last many years. I cannot in the mean
time conceal what a noble person has assur'd me, that in his goodly
plantations of trees in Scotland, where they are continually expos'd to
much greater, and more impetuous winds than we were usually acquainted
with, he never stakes any of his trees; but upon all disasters of this
kind, causes only his servants to redress, and, set them up again as
often as they happen to be overthrown; which he has affirm'd to me,
thrives better with them, than with those which he has staked; and that
at last they strike root so fast, as nothing but the axe is able to
prostrate them. And there is good reason for it in my opinion, whilst
these concussions of the roots loosning the mould, not only make room
for their more easie insinuations, but likewise open and prepare it to
receive and impart the better nourishment. It is in another place I
suggest that transplanted pines and firrs, for want of their penetrating
taproots, are hardly consistent against these gusts after they are grown
high; especially, where they are set close, and in tufts, which betrays
them to the greater disadvantage: And therefore such trees do best in
walks, and at competent distances where they escape tolerably well: Such
therefore as we design for woods of them, should be sow'd, and never
remov'd. In the mean time, many trees are also propagated by cuttings
and layers; the ever-greens about Bartholomewtide; other trees within
two or three months after, when they will have all the sap to assist
them; every body knows the way to do it is by slitting the branch a
little way, when it is a little cut directly in, and then to plunge it
half a foot under good mould, and leaving as much of its extremity above
it, and if it comply not well, to peg it down with an hook or two, and
so when you find it competently rooted, to cut it off beneath, and plant
it forth: Other expedients there are by twisting the part, or baring it
of the rind; and if it be out of reach of the ground, to fasten a tub or
basket of earth near the branch, fill'd with a succulent mould, and kept
as fresh as may be. For cuttings, about the same season, take such as
are about the bigness of your thumb, setting them a foot in the earth,
and near as much out. If it be of soft wood, as willows, poplar, alders,
&c. you may take much larger trunchions, and so tall as cattel may not
reach them; if harder, those which are young, small and more tender; and
if such as produce a knur, or burry swelling, set that part into the
ground, and be sure to make the hole so wide, and point the end of your
cutting so smooth, as that in setting, it violate and strip none of the
bark; the other extream may be slanted, and so treading the earth close,
and keeping it moist, you will seldom fail of success: By the roots also
of a thriving, lusty and sappy tree, more may be propagated; to effect
which, early in spring, dig about its foot, and finding such as you may
with a little cutting bend upwards, raise them above ground three or
four inches, and they will in a short time make shoots, and be fit for
transplantation; or in this work you may quite separate them from the
mother-roots, and cut them off: By baring likewise the bigger roots
discreetly, and hacking them a little, and then covering with fresh
Mould _matres_, and mother-roots; _nepotes_, succors; _traduces_, and
rooted setts, may be raised in abundance; which drawing competent roots
will soon furnish store of plants; and this is practicable in elms
especially, and all such trees as are apt of themselves to put forth
suckers; but of this more upon occasion{25:1} hereafter. And now to
prevent censure on this tedious and prolix Introduction, I cannot but
look on it as the basis and foundation of all the structure, rising from
this work and endeavour of mine; since from station, sowing, continual
culture and care, proceed all we really enjoy in the world: Every thing
must have birth and beginning, and afterwards by diligence and prudent
care, form'd and brought to shape and perfection: Nor is it enough to
cast seeds into the ground, and leave them there, as the Ostrich does
her eggs in the Lybian sands, without minding them more, (because Nature
has depriv'd her of understanding); but great diligence is to be us'd in
governing them; not only till they spring up, but till they are arriv'd
to some stature fit for transplantation, and to be sent broad; after the
same method that our children should be educated, and taken care of from
their birth and cradle; and afterwards, whilst they are under Padagogues
and discipline, (for the forming of their manners and persons) that they
contract no ill habits, and take such plys as are so difficult to
rectifie and smooth again without the greatest industry. For prevention
of this in our seminary, the like care is requisite; whilst the young
imps and seedlings are yet tender and flexible, and require not only
different nourishment and protection from too much cold, heat, and other
injuries; but due and skilful management, in dressing, redressing and
pruning, as they grow capable of being brought into shape, and of
hopeful expectation, when time has rendered them fit for the use and
service requir'd, according to their kinds. He therefore that undertakes
the nursery, should be knowing not only in the choice of the seeds,
where, when, and how to sow them; but to know what time of gestation
they require in the womb of their mother-earth, before parturition; that
so he may not be surprized with her delivering some of them sooner, or
later than he expects them; for some will lye two, nay, three year, e'er
they peep; most others one, and some a quarter, or a month or two;
whilst the tardy and less forward so tire the hopes of the husbandman,
that he many times digs up the platts and beds in which they were sown,
despairing of a crop, sometimes ready to spring and come up, as I have
found by experience to my loss: Those of hard shell and integument will
lie longer buried than others; for so the _libanus_ cedar, and most of
the coniferous firs, pines, &c. shed their seeds late, and sometimes
remain two winters and as many summers, to open their scales glued so
fast together, without some external application of fire or warm water,
which is yet not so natural as when they open of themselves. The same
may be observed of some minuter seeds, even among the olitories; as that
of parsley, which will hardly spring in less than a year; so beet-seed,
part in the second and third, &c. which upon inspecting the skins and
membranes involving them, would be hard to give a reason for. To
accelerate this, they use imbibitions of piercing spirits, salts,
emollients, &c. not only to the seeds, but to the soil, which we seldom
find much signify, but either to produce abortion or monsters; and being
forc'd to hasty birth, become nothing so hardy, healthful and lasting,
as the conception and birth they receive from nature. These observations
premis'd in general, after I have recommended to our industrious
planters the appendix or table of the several sorts of soil and places
that are proper, or at least may seem so; or that are unfit for certain
kinds of trees, (as well foresters and others, annexed to this work) I
should proceed to particulars, and boldly advance into the thickest of
the forest, did not method seem to require something briefly to be
spoken of trees in general, as they are under the name of plants and
vegetables, especially such as we shall have occasion to discourse of
in the following work; tho' we also take in some less vulgarly known and
familiar, of late indenizon'd among us, and some of them very useful.
By trees then is meant, a lignous woody-plant, whose property is for the
most part, to grow up and erect itself with a single stem or trunk, of a
thick and more compacted substance and bulk, branching forth large and
spreading boughs; the whole body and external part, cover'd and invested
with a thick rind or _cortex_, more hard and durable than that of other
parts; which, with expanding roots, penetrate and fixes them in the
earth for stability, (and according to their nature) receive and convey
nourishment to the whole: And these _terræ-filii_, are what we call
timber-trees, the chief subject of our following Discourse.
Trees are likewise distinguish'd into other subordinate species;
_fruticis_, frutages and shrubs; which are also lignous trees, tho' of a
lower and humbler growth, less spreading, and rising up in several
stems, emerging from the same root, yielding plenty of suckers; which
being separated from it, and often carrying with them some small fiber,
are easily propagated and planted out for a numerous store: And this,
(being clad with a more tender bark or fiber) seems to differ _frutex_
from other arborious kinds; since as to the shaft and stems of such as
we account dwarf and pumilo with us, they rise often to tall and stately
trees, in the more genial and benign climes.
_Suffrutrices_ are shrubs lower than the former, lignescent and more
approaching to the stalky herbs, lavender, rue, &c. but not apt to decay
so soon, after they have seeded; whilst both these kinds seem also
little more to differ from one another, than do trees from them; all of
them consisting of the same variety of parts, according to their kinds
and structure, cover'd with some woody, hard membraneous, or tender
rind, suitable to their constitution, and to protect them from outward
injuries; producing likewise buds, leaves, blossoms and flowers,
pregnant with fruit, and yielding saps, liquors and juices, _lachrymæ_,
gums, and other exsudations, tho' diversifying in shape and substance,
tast, odour, and other qualities and operations, according to the nature
of the species; the various structure and contexture of their several
vessels and organs, whose office it is to supply the whole plant with
all that is necessary to its being and perfection, after a stupendious,
tho' natural process; which minutely to describe, and analogically
compare, as they perform their functions, (not altogether so different
from creatures of animal life) would require an anatomical lecture;
which is so learnedly and accurately done to our hands, by Dr. Grew,
_Malphigius_ and other ingenious naturalists.
But besides this general definition, as to what is meant by trees,
frutexes, &c. they are likewise specifically distinguish'd by other
characters, leaves, buds, blossoms, &c. but especially by what they
produce of more importance, by their fruit ye shall know them: v. g.
The _glandiferæ_, oaks and ilex's yield acorns, and other useful
excrescencies: The mast-bearers are the beech, and such as include their
seeds and fruit in rougher husks; as the chessnut-tree, &c. the wallnut,
hazle, avelans, &c. are the _nuciferæ_, &c. to the _coniferæ_,
_resiniferæ_, _squammiferæ_, &c. belong the whole tribe of cedars,
firs, pines, &c. apples, pears, quinces, and several other _edulæ_
fruits; peaches, abricots, plums, &c. are reduc'd to the _pomiferæ_: The
_bacciferæ_, are such as produce kernels, sorbs, cherries, holley, bays,
laurell, yew, juniper, elder, &c. and all the berry-bearers. The
_genistæ_ in general, and such as bear their seeds in cods, come under
the tribe of _siliquosæ_: The _lanuginæ_ are such as bed their seeds in
a cottony-down.
The ash, elm, tilia, poplar, hornbeam, willow, salices, &c. are
distinguish'd by their keys, tongues, _samera_, _pericurpia_, and
_theca_, small, flat and husky skins, including the seeds, as in so many
foliol's, bags and purses, fine membranous cases, catkins, palmes,
julus's, &c. needless to be farther mention'd here, being so
particularly describ'd in the chapters following; as are also the
various ever-greens and exoticks.
FOOTNOTES:
{13:1}
Qui serere ingenuum volet agrum,
Liberat prius arva fruticibus;
Falce rubos, filicemque resecat.
_Boeth. l. 2. Met._
{14:1}
Proinde nemus sparsa cures de glande parandum:
Sed tamen ante tuo mandes quam semina campo;
Ipse tibi duro robustus vomere fossor
Omne solum subigat late, explanetque subactum.
Cumque novus fisso primum de germine ramus
Findit humum, rursus ferro versanda bicorni
Consita vere novo tellus, cultuque frequenti
Exercenda, herbæ circum ne forte nocentes
Proveniant, germenque ipsum radicibus urant.
Nec cultu campum cunctantem urgere frequenti,
Et saturare fimo pudeat, si forte resistat
Culturæ: nam tristis humus superanda colendo est.
_Rapinus, l. 2._
{20:1}
Quid quæque ferat regio, & quid quæque recuset.
{21:1} Pomona.
{25:1} For the transplanting and removing of full-grown forest-trees,
and others. See Cap. III. Sect. 10.
CHAPTER III.
_Of the Oak._
1. _Robur_, the oak; I have sometimes consider'd it very seriously, what
should move _Pliny_ to make a whole chapter of one only line, which is
less than the argument alone of most of the rest in his huge volume: but
the weightiness of the matter does worthily excuse him, who is not wont
to spare his words, or his reader. _Glandiferi maximè generis omnes,
quibus honos apud Romanos perpetuus._ "Mast-bearing-trees were
principally those which the Romans held in chiefest repute," lib. 16.
cap. 3. And in the following where he treats of chaplets, and the
dignity of the civic coronet; it might be compos'd of the leaves or
branches of any oak, provided it were a bearing tree, and had acorns
upon it, and was (as{31:1} _Macrobius_ tells us). Recorded among the
_felices arbores_; but this +phyllinon stephanon+ was interwoven, and
twisted with thorns and briars; and the garland carried to usher the
bride to her husband's house, intimating that happy state was not exempt
from its pungencies and cares. It is then for the esteem which these
wise and glorious people had of this tree above all others, that I will
first begin with the oak; and indeed it carries it from all other timber
whatsoever, for building of ships in general, and in particular being
tough, bending well, strong and not too heavy, nor easily admitting
water.
2. 'Tis pity that the several kinds of oak are so rarely known amongst
us, that whereever they meet with _quercus_, they take it promiscuously
for our common oak; as likewise they do +Drys+, which comprehends all
mast-bearing trees whatsoever, (which I think they have no latin word
for): And in the _Silva Glandifera_ were reckon'd the chessnut, ilix,
_esculus_, _cerris_, _suber_, &c. various species rather than different
trees, white, red, black, &c. among our American plantations,
(especially the long-stalked oak not as yet much taken notice of): we
shall here therefore give an account of four only; two of which are most
frequent with us; for we shall say little of the _cerris_ or _ægilops_,
goodly to look on, but for little else: Some have mistaken it for beech,
whereas indeed it is a kind of oak bearing a small round acorn almost
covered with the cup, which is very rugged, the branches loaded with a
long moss hanging down like dishevell'd hair which much annoys it.
+Phagos+ is indeed doubtless a species of oak; however by the Latins
usually apply'd to the beech, whose leaf exceedingly differs from that
of the oak, as also the mast and bark rugged, and growing among the
hills and mountains; the other in the valleys, and perhaps, but few of
them in Italy. Physicians, naturalists and botanists should therefore be
curious how they describe and place such trees mention'd by
_Theophrastus_ and others, under the same denomination as frequently
they do; being found so very different when accurately examin'd. There
is likewise the _esculus_, which though _Vitruvius_, _Pliny_,
_Dalcampius_ and others take for a smaller kind, _Virgil_ celebrates for
its spreading, and profound root; and this _Dalcampius_ will therefore
have to be the _platyphyllos_ of _Theophrastus_, and as our botanists
think, his _phegos_, as producing the most edible fruit. But to confine
our selves; the _quercus urbana_, which grows more upright, and being
clean and lighter is fittest for timber: And the _robur_, or _quercus
silvestris_, (taking _robur_ for the general name, if at least
contradistinct from the rest); which (as the name imports) is of a vast
robust and inflexible nature, of an hard black grain; bearing a smaller
acorn, and affecting to spread in branches, and to put forth his roots
more above ground; and therefore in the planting, to be allow'd a
greater distance, viz. from twenty five, to forty foot; (nay sometimes
as many yards;) whereas the other shooting up more erect, will be
contented with fifteen. This kind is farther to be distinguished by its
fulness of leaves, which tarnish, and becoming yellow at the fall, do
commonly clothe it all the winter; the roots growing very deep and
stragling. The author of _Britannia Baconica_, speaks of an oak in
Lanhadron-Park in Cornwall, which bears constantly leaves speckled with
white; and of another call'd the painted oak; others have since been
found at Fridwood, near Sittingbourn in Kent; as also sycamore and elms,
in other places mentioned by the learned Dr. Plot in his _Nat. Hist._ of
_Oxfordshire_: Which I only mention here, that the variety may be
compar'd by some ingenious person thereabouts, as well as the truth of
the fatal præ-admonition, of oaks bearing strange leaves: Besides that
famous oak of _New Forest_ in _Hampshire_, which puts forth its buds
about Christmass, but wither'd again before night; and was order'd (by
our late King Charles II.) to be inclos'd with a Pale; (as I find it
mentioned in the last edition of Mr. Camden's _Brit._) And so was
another before this; which his grandfather, King James, went to visit,
and caused benches to be plac'd about it; which giving it reputation,
the people never left hacking of the boughs and bark till they kill'd
the tree: As I am told they have serv'd that famous oak near
_White-Ladys_ which hid and protected our late Monarch from being
discovered and taken by the Rebel-Soldiers, who were sent to find him,
after his almost miraculous escape at the battel of _Worcester_. In the
mean time, as to this extraordinary precosness, the like is reported of
a certain wallnut-tree as well as of the famous white-thorns of
_Glassenbury_, and blackthorns in several places. Some of our common
oaks bear their leaves green all winter; but they are generally
pollards, and such as are shelter'd in warm corners and hedge rows. To
speak then particularly of oaks, and generally of all other trees of
the same kind, (by some infallible characters) notice should be taken of
the manner of their spreading, stature and growth, shape and size of the
acorn, whether single or in clusters, the length or shortness of the
stalks, roundness of the cup, breadth, narrowness, shape, and indentures
of the leaf; and so of the bark, +Trachys+, asperous, or smooth, brown
or bright, &c. Tho' most (if not all of them) may rather be imputed to
the genius and nature of the soil, situation, or goodness of the seed,
than either to the pretended sex or species. And these observations may
serve to discover many accidental varieties in other trees, without
nicer distinctions; such as are fetch'd from profess'd botanists; who
make it not so much their study, to plant and propagate trees, as to
skill in their medicinal virtues, and other uses; always excepting our
learned countryman, Mr. Ray, whose incomparable work omits nothing
useful or desirable on this subject; wanting only the accomplishments of
well-design'd sculps. There is likewise a kind of _hemeris_ or dwarf-oak
(like the _robur_ VII. _clusii_) frequent in New-England; and the white
one of _Virginia_, a most stately tree, which (bearing acorns) might
easily be propagated here, if it were worth the while.
3. I shall not need to repeat what has already been said Cap. 2.
concerning the raising of this tree from the acorn; they will also
endure the laying, but never to advantage of bulk or stature: It is in
the mean time the propagation of these large spreading oaks, which is
especially recommended for the excellency of the timber, and that his
Majesties forests were well and plentifully stor'd with them; because
they require room, and space to amplifie and expand themselves, and
would therefore be planted at more remote distances, and free from all
encumbrances: And this upon consideration how slowly a full-grown oak
mounts upwards, and how speedily they spread, and dilate themselves to
all quarters, by dressing and due culture; so as above forty years
advance is to be gain'd by this only industry: And, if thus his
Majesties forests and chases were stor'd, _viz._ with this spreading
tree at handsom intervals, by which grazing might be improv'd for the
feeding of deer and cattel under them, (for such was the old _Saltus_)
benignly visited with the gleams of the sun, and adorn'd with the
distant land-skips appearing through the glades, and frequent vallies;
(..............................betwixt
Whose rows the azure sky is seen immix'd,
With hillocks, vales, and fields, as now we see
Distinguish'd in a sweet variety;
Such places which wild apple-trees throughout
Adorn, and happy shrubs grow all about,){35:1}
As the poet describes his olive-groves, nothing could be more ravishing;
for so we might also sprinkle fruit-trees amongst them (of which
hereafter) for cyder, and many singular uses, and should find such
goodly plantations the boast of our rangers, and forests infinitely
preferable to any thing we have yet beheld, rude, and neglected as they
are: I say, when his Majesty shall proceed (as he hath design'd) to
animate this laudable pride into fashion, forests and woods (as well as
fields and inclosures) will present us with another face than now they
do. And here I cannot but applaud the worthy industry of old Sir
Harbotle Grimstone, who (I am told) from a very small nursery of acorns,
which he sow'd in the neglected corners of his ground, did draw forth
such numbers of oaks of competent growth; as being planted about his
fields in even, and uniform rows, about one hundred foot from the
hedges; bush'd, and well water'd till they had sufficiently fix'd
themselves, did wonderfully improve both the beauty, and the value of
his demeasnes. But I proceed.
4. Both these kinds would be taken up very young, and transplanted about
October; some yet for these hardy, and late springing trees, defer it
till the winter be well over; but the earth had need be moist; and
though they will grow tolerably in most grounds, yet do they generally
affect the sound, black, deep, and fast mould, rather warm than over-wet
and cold, and a little rising; for this produces the firmest timber;
though my L. Bacon prefers that which grows in the moister grounds for
ship-timber, as the most tough, and less subject to rift. But let us
hear Pliny:
This is a general rule, saith he; "What trees soever they be which
grow tolerably, either on hills, or valleys, arise to greater
stature, and spread more amply in the lower ground: But the timber
is far better, and of a finer grain, which grows upon the
mountains, excepting only apple and pear-trees." And in the 39 cap.
lib. 16. "The timber of those trees which grow in moist and shady
places is not so good as that which comes from a more expos'd
situation, nor is it so close, substantial and durable":
Upon which he much prefers the timber growing in _Tuscany_, before that
towards the _Venetian_ side, and upper part of the _Gulph_: And that
timber so grown, was in greatest esteem long before Pliny, we have the
Spear of _Agamemnon_........... +echôn anemotrephes enchos. Il.
l.+{37:1} from a tree so expos'd; and _Didymus_ gives the reason, +Ta
gar en anemô+ (says he) +pleion gymnazomena deudra oterea+ &c. _For that
being continually weather-beaten, they become hardier and tougher_:
Otherwise, that which is wind-shaken, never comes to good; and
therefore, when we speak of the climate, 'tis to be understood of
valleys rather than hills, and in calm places, than exposed, because
they shoot streight and upright. The result of all is, that upon
occasion of special timber, there is a very great and considerable
difference; so as some oaken-timber proves manifestly weaker, more
spungy, and sooner decaying than other. The like may be affirm'd of ash,
and other kinds; and generally speaking, the close-grain'd is the
stoutest, and most permanent: But of this, let the industrious consult
that whole tenth chapter in the second book of Vitruvius, where he
expresly treats of this argument, _De Abiete supernate & infernate, cum
Apennini descriptione_: Where we note concerning oak, that it neither
prospers in very hot, nor excessive cold countries; and therefore there
is little good of it to be found in _Africa_; or indeed, the lower and
most southern parts of _Italy_ (but the _Venetians_ have excellent
timber) nor in _Denmark_, or _Norway_ comparable to ours; it chiefly
affecting a temperate climate, and where they grow naturally in
abundance, 'tis a promising mark of it. If I were to make choice of the
place, or the tree, it should be such as grows in the best cow-pasture,
or up-land meadow, where the mould is rich, and sweet, (Suffolk affords
an admirable instance) and in such places you may also transplant large
trees with extraordinary success: And therefore it were not amiss to
bore and search the ground where you intend to plant or sow, before you
fall to work; since earth too shallow, or rocky is not so proper for
this timber; the roots fix not kindly, and though for a time they may
seem to flourish, yet they will dwindle: In the mean time, 'tis
wonderful to consider how strangely the oak will penetrate to come to a
marly bottom; so as where we find this tree to prosper, the indication
of a fruitful and excellent soil is certain even by the token of this
natural augury only; so as by the plantation of this tree and some
others, we have the advantage of profit rais'd from the pregnancy,
substance and depth of our land; whilst by the grass and corn, (whose
roots are but a few inches deep), we have the benefit of the crust only.
5. But to discourage none, oaks prosper exceedingly even in gravel and
moist clays, which most other trees abhor; yea, even the coldest
clay-grounds that will hardly graze: But these trees will frequently
make stands, as they encounter variety of footing, and sometimes proceed
again vigorously, as they either penetrate beyond, or out-grow their
obstructions, and meet better earth; which is of that consequence, that
I dare boldly affirm, more than an hundred years advance is clearly
gain'd by soil and husbandry. I have yet read, that there grow oaks,
(some of which have contain'd ten loads apiece) out of the very walls
of _Silcester_ in Hantshire, which seem to strike root in the very
stones; and even in our renowned Forest of Dean itself, some goodly oaks
have been noted to grow upon ground, which has been as it were a rock of
ancient cinders, buried there many ages since. It is indeed obser'd,
that oaks which grow in rough stony grounds, and obstinate clays, are
long before they come to any considerable stature, (for such places, and
all sort of clay, is held but a step-mother to trees) but in time they
afford the most excellent timber, having stood long, and got good
footing. The same may we affirm of the lightest sands, which produces a
smoother-grain'd timber, of all other the most useful for the joyner;
but that which grows in gravel is subject to be frow (as they term it)
and brittle. What improvement the stirring of the ground about the roots
of oaks is to the trees, I have already hinted; and yet in copses where
they stand warm, and so thicken'd with the underwood, as this culture
cannot be practis'd, they prove in time to be goodly trees. I have of
late tried the graffing of oaks, but as yet with slender success:
Ruellius indeed affirms it will take the pear and other fruit; and if we
may credit the poet,
The sturdy oak does golden apples bear.{39:1}
And under elms swine do the mast devour.{39:2}
Which I conceive to be the more probable, for that the sap of the oak
is of an unkind tincture to most trees. But for this improvement, I
would rather advise inoculation, as the ordinary elm upon the
witch-hazel, for those large leaves we shall anon mention, and which are
so familiar in France.
6. That the transplanting of young oaks gains them ten years advance,
some happy persons have affirmed: From this belief, if in a former
impression I have desired to be excused, and produc'd my reasons for it,
I shall not persist against any sober man's experience; and therefore
leave this article to their choice; since (as the butchers phrase is)
change of pasture makes fat calves; and so transplantations of these
hard-wood-trees, when young, may possibly, by an happy hand, in fit
season, and other circumstances of soil, sun, and room for growth, be an
improvement: But as for those who advise us to plant oaks of too great a
stature, they hardly make any considerable progress in an age; and
therefore I cannot encourage it, unless the ground be extraordinarily
qualify'd, or that the oak you would transplant, be not above 6 or 7
foot growth in height: Yet if any be desirous to make tryal of it, let
their stems be of the smoothest and tenderest bark; for that is ever an
indication of youth, as well as the paucity of their circles, which in
disbranching and cutting the head off, at five or six foot height (a
thing, by the way, which the French usually spare when they transplant
this tree) may (before you stir their roots) serve for the more certain
guide; and then plant them immediately, with as much earth as will
adhere to them, in the place destin'd for their station; abating only
the{41:1} tap-root, which is that down-right, and stubby part of the
roots (which all trees rais'd of seeds do universally produce) and
quickning some of the rest with a sharp knife (but sparing the fibrous,
which are the main suckers and mouths of all trees) spread them in the
foss or pit which hath been prepar'd to receive them. I say, in the
foss, unless you will rather trench the whole field, which is
incomparably the best; and infinitely to be preferr'd before narrow pits
and holes (as the manner is) in case you plant any number considerable,
the earth being hereby made loose, easier and penetrable for the roots,
about which you are to cast that mould, which (in opening of the trench)
you took from the surface, and purposely laid apart; because it is
sweet, mellow, and better impregnated: But in this work, be circumspect
never to inter your stem deeper than you found it standing; for profound
burying very frequently destroys a tree, though an error seldom
observed: If therefore the roots be sufficiently covered to keep the
body steady and erect, it is enough; and the not minding of this
trifling circumstance, does very much deceive our ordinary wood-men, as
well as gardiners; for most roots covet the air (though that of the
_Quercus urbano_ least of any); for like the _Esculus_
How much to heaven her towring head ascends,
So much towards hell her piercing root extends.{41:2}
And the perfection of that, does almost as much concern the prosperity
of a tree, as of man himself, since _homo_ is but _arbor inversa_; which
prompts me to this curious, but important advertisement, that the
position be likewise sedulously observed.
7. For, the southern parts being more dilated, and the pores expos'd (as
evidently appears in their horizontal sections) by the constant
excentricity of the hyperbolical circles of all trees, (save just under
Æquator, where the circles concentre, as we find in those hard woods
which grow there) ours, being now on the sudden, and at such a season
converted to the north, does starve and destroy more trees (how careful
soever men have been in ordering the roots, and preparing the ground,)
than any other accident whatsoever (neglect of staking, and defending
from cattle excepted); the importance whereof caused the best of poets,
and most experienc'd in this _Argument_, giving advice concerning this
article, to add.
The card'nal points upon the bark they sign,
And as before it stood, in the same line
Place to warm south, or the obverted pole;
Such force has custom, in each tender soul.{42:1}
Which monition, though Pliny, and some others think good to neglect, or
esteem indifferent, I can confirm from frequent losses of my own, and by
particular tryals; having sometimes transplanted great trees at
mid-summer with success (the earth adhering to the roots) and miscarried
in others, where this circumstance only was omitted.
To observe therefore the coast, and side of the stock (especially of
fruit-trees) is not such a trifle as by some pretended: For if the air
be as much the mother or nurse, as water and earth, (as more than
probable it is) such blossoming plants as court the motion of the
meridian sun, do as 't were evidently point out the advantage they
receive by their position, by the clearness, politure, and comparative
splendor of the southside: And the frequent mossiness of trees on the
opposite side, does sufficiently note the unkindness of that aspect;
most evident in the bark of oaks white and smooth; the trees growing
more kindly on the south side of an hill, than those which are expos'd
to the north, with an hard, dark, rougher and more mossie integument, as
I can now demonstrate in a prodigious coat of it, investing some
pyracanths which I have removed to a northern dripping shade. I have
seen (writes a worthy friend to me on this occasion) whole hedge-rows of
apples and pears that quite perished after that shelter was removed: The
good husbands expected the contrary, and that the fruit should improve,
as freed from the proedations of the hedge; but use and custom made that
shelter necessary; and therefore (saith he) a stock for a time is the
weaker, taken out of a thicket, if it be not well protected from all
sudden and fierce invasions, either of crude air or winds. Nor let any
be deterr'd, if being to remove any trees, he shall esteem it too
consumptive of time; for with a brush dipped in any white colour, or
oaker, a thousand may be marked as they stand, in a moment; and that
once done, the difficulty is over. I have been the larger upon these two
remarks, because I find them so material, and yet so much neglected.
8. There are other rules concerning the situation of trees; the former
author commending the north-east-wind both for the flourishing of the
tree, and advantage of the timber; but to my observation in our
climates, where those sharp winds do rather flanker than blow fully
opposite upon our plantations, they thrive best; and there are as well
other circumstances to be considered, as they respect rivers and marshes
obnoxious to unwholsom and poysonous fogs, hills and seas, which expose
them to the weather; and those _silvifragi venti_, our cruel and tedious
western-winds; all which I leave to observation, because these accidents
do so universally govern, that it is not easie to determine farther than
that the timber is commonly better qualified which hath endur'd the
colder aspects without these prejudices. And hence it is that Seneca
observes, wood most expos'd to the winds to be the most strong and
solid, and that therefore _Chiron_ made _Achilles's_ spear of a
mountain-tree; and of those the best, which grow thin, not much
shelter'd from the north. Again, Theophrastus seems to have special
regard to places; exemplifying in many of Greece, which exceeded others
for good timber, as doubtless do our oaks in the Forest of Dean all
others of England: And much certainly there may reasonably be attributed
to these advantages for the growth of timber, and of almost all other
trees, as we daily see by their general improsperity, where the ground
is a hot gravel, and a loose earth: An oak, or elm in such a place shall
not in an hundred years, overtake one of fifty, planted in its proper
soil; though next to this, and (haply) before it, I prefer the good air.
But thus have they such vast junipers in Spain; and the ash in some
parts of the Levant (as of old near Troy) so excellent, as it was after
mistaken for cedar, so great was the difference; as now the Cantabrian,
or Spanish exceeds any we have elsewhere in Europe. And we shall
sometimes in our own country see woods within a little of each other,
and to all appearance, growing on the same soil, where oaks of twenty
years growth, or forty, will in the same bulk, contain their double in
heart and timber; and that in one, the heart will not be so big as a
man's arm, when the trunk exceeds a man's body: This ought therefore to
be weighed in the first plantation of copses, and a good eye may discern
it in the first shoot; the difference proceeding doubtless from the
variety of the seed, and therefore great care should be had of its
goodness, and that it be gather'd from the best sort of trees, as was
formerly hinted, Chap. 1.
9. _Veterem arborem transplantare_ was said of a difficult enterprize;
yet before we take leave of this paragraph, concerning the transplanting
of great trees, and to shew what is possible to be effected in this
kind, with cost and industry; Count Maurice (the late Governor of Brasil
for the Hollanders) planted a grove near his delicious paradise of
Friburgh, containing six hundred coco-trees of eighty years growth, and
fifty foot high to the nearest bough: These he wafted upon floats and
engines, four long miles; and planted them so luckily, that they bare
abundantly the very first year; as Gasper Barloeus hath related in his
Elegant Description of that Prince's Expedition. Nor hath this only
succeeded in the Indies alone; Monsieur de Fiat (one of the Mareschals
of France) hath with huge oaks done the like at Fiat. Shall I yet bring
you nearer home? A great person in Devon, planted oaks as big as twelve
oxen could draw, to supply some defect in an avenue to one of his
houses; as the Right Honourable the Lord Fitz-Harding, late Treasurer of
His Majesty's Household, assur'd me; who had himself likewise practis'd
the removing of great oaks by a particular address extreamly ingenious,
and worthy the communication.
10. Chuse a tree as big as your thigh, remove the earth from about him;
cut through all the collateral roots, till with a competent strength you
can enforce him down upon one side, so as to come with your ax at the
top-root; cut that off, redress your tree, and so let it stand cover'd
about with the mould you loosen'd from it, till the next year, or longer
if you think good; then take it up at a fit season; it will likely have
drawn new tender roots apt to take, and sufficient for the tree,
wheresoever you shall transplant him. Some are for laying bare the whole
roots, and then dividing it into 4 parts, in form of a cross, to cut
away the interjacent rootlings, leaving only the cross and master-roots,
that were spared to support the tree; and then covering the pit with
fresh mould (as above) after a year or two, when it has put forth, and
furnish'd the interstices you left between the cross-roots, with plenty
of new fibers and tender shoots, you may safely remove the tree itself,
so soon as you have loosened and reduc'd the 4 decusseted roots, and
shortned the top-roots: And this operation is done without stooping or
bending the tree at all: And if in removing it with as much of the clod
about the new roots, as possible, it would be much the better.
Pliny notes it as a common thing, to re-establish huge trees which have
been blown down, part of their roots torn up, and the body prostrate;
and, in particular, of a firr, that when it was to be transplanted, had
a top-root which went no less than eight cubits perpendicular; and to
these I could superadd (by woful experience) where some oaks, and other
old trees of mine, tore up with their fall and ruin, portions of earth
(in which their former spreading roots were ingag'd) little less in bulk
and height than some ordinary cottages and houses, built on the common:
Such havock, was the effect of the late prodigious hurricane. But to
proceed. To facilitate the removal of such monstrous trees, for the
adornment of some particular place, or the rarity of the plant, there is
this farther expedient: A little before the hardest frosts surprise you,
make a square trench about your tree, at such distance from the stem as
you judge sufficient for the root; dig this of competent depth, so as
almost quite to undermine it; by placing blocks and quarters of wood, to
sustain the earth; this done, cast in as much water as may fill the
trench, or at least sufficiently wet it, unless the ground were very
moist before. Thus let it stand, till some very hard frost do bind it
firmly to the roots, and then convey it to the pit prepar'd for its new
station, which you may preserve from freezing, by laying store of warm
litter in it, and so close the mould the better to the stragling fibers,
placing what you take out about your new guest, to preserve it in
temper: But in case the mould about it be so ponderous as not to be
remov'd by an ordinary force; you may then raise it with a crane or
pully, hanging between a triangle (or like machine) which is made of
three strong and tall limbs united at the top, where a pully is fastned,
as the cables are to be under the quarters which bear the earth about
the roots: For by this means you may weigh up, and place the whole
weighty clod upon a trundle, sledge, or other carriage, to be convey'd
and replanted where you please, being let down perpendicularly into the
place by the help of the foresaid engine. And by this address you may
transplant trees of a wonderful stature, without the least disorder; and
many times without topping, or diminution of the head, which is of great
importance, where this is practis'd to supply a defect, or remove a
curiosity.
11. Some advise, that in planting of oaks, &c. four or five be suffer'd
to stand very near to one another, and then to leave the most
prosperous, when they find the rest to disturb his growth; but I
conceive it were better to plant them at such distances, as they may
least incommode one another: For timber-trees, I would have none nearer
than forty foot where they stand closest; especially of the spreading
kind.
12. Lastly, trees of ordinary stature transplanted (being first well
water'd) must be sufficiently staked, and bush'd about with thorns, or
with something better, to protect them from the concussions of the
winds, and from the casual rubbing, and poysonous brutting of cattle and
sheep, the oyliness of whose wooll is also very noxious to them; till
being well grown and fixed (which by seven years will be to some
competent degree) they shall be able to withstand all accidental
invasions, but the axe; for I am now come to their pruning and cutting,
in which work the seasons are of main importance.
13. Therefore, if you would propagate trees for timber, cut not off
their heads at all, nor be too busie with lopping: But if you desire
shade and fuel, or bearing of mast alone, lop off their tops, sear, and
unthriving branches only: If you intend an outright felling, expect till
November; for this proemature cutting down of trees before the sap is
perfectly at rest, will be to your exceeding prejudice, by reason of the
worm, which will certainly breed in timber which is felled before that
period: But in case you cut only for the chimney, you need not be so
punctual as to the time; yet for the benefit of what you let stand,
observe the moon's increase if you please. The reason of these
differences, is; because this is the best season for the growth of the
tree which you do not fell, the other for the durableness of the timber
which you do: Now that which is to be burnt is not so material for
lasting, as the growth of the tree is considerable for the timber: But
of these particulars more at large in cap. 3. book III.
14. The very stumps of oak, especially that part which is dry, and above
ground, being well grubb'd, is many times worth the pains and charge,
for sundry rare and hard works; and where timber is dear. I could name
some who abandoning this to workmen for their pains only, when they
perceiv'd the great advantage, repented of their bargain, and
undertaking it themselves, were gainers above half: I wish only for the
expedition of this knotty work, some effectual engine were devised; such
as I have been told a worthy person of this nation made use of, by which
he was able with one man, to perform more than with twelve oxen; and
surely, there might be much done by fastning of iron-hooks and fangs
about one root, to extract another; the hook chain'd to some portable
screw or winch: I say, such an invention might effect wonders, not only
for the extirpation of roots, but the prostrating of huge trees: That
small engine, which by some is call'd the _german-devil_, reform'd after
this manner, and duly applied, might be very expedient for this purpose,
and therefore we have exhibited the following figure, and submit it to
improvement and tryal.
But this is to be practis'd only where you design a final extirpation;
for some have drawn suckers even from an old stub-root; but they
certainly perish by the moss which invades them, and are very subject to
grow rotten. Pliny speaks of one root, which took up an entire acre of
ground, and Theophrastus describes the _Lycean Platanus_ to have spread
an hundred foot; if so, the argument may hold good for their growth
after the tree is come to its period. They made cups of the roots of
oaks heretofore, and such a curiosity Athenæus tells us was carv'd by
Thericleus himself; and there is a way so to tinge oak after long
burying and soaking in water, (which gives it a wonderful politure) as
that it has frequently been taken for a course ebony: Hence even by
floating, comes the Bohemian oak, Polish, and other northern timber, to
be of such excellent use for some parts of shipping: But the blackness
which we find in oaks, that have long lain under ground, (and may be
call'd subterranean timber) proceeds from some vitriolic juice of the
bed in which they lie, which makes it very weighty; but (as the
excellent naturalist and learned physician Dr. Sloane observes) it
dries, splits, and becomes light, and much impairs.
15. There is not in nature a thing more obnoxious to deceit, than the
buying of trees standing, upon the reputation of their appearance to
the eye, unless the chapman be extraordinarily judicious; so various are
their hidden and conceal'd infirmities, till they be fell'd and sawn
out: So as if to any thing applicable, certainly there is nothing which
does more perfectly confirm it, than the most flourishing out-side of
trees, _fronti nulla fides_. A timber-tree is a merchant-adventurer, you
shall never know what he is worth till he be dead.
16. Oaks are in some places (where the soil is especially qualified)
ready to be cut for cops in fourteen years and sooner; I compute from
the first semination; though it be told as an instance of high
encouragement (and as indeed it merits) that a lady in Northamptonshire
sowed acorns, and liv'd to cut the trees produc'd from them, twice in
two and twenty years; and both as well grown as most are in sixteen or
eighteen. This yet is certain, that acorns set in hedg-rows, have in
thirty years born a stem of a foot diameter. Generally, cops-wood should
be cut close, and at such intervals as the growth requires; which being
seldom constant, depends much on the places and the kinds, the mould and
the air, and for which there are extant particular statutes to direct
us; of all which more at large hereafter. Oak for tan-bark may be fell'd
from April to the last of June, by a Statute in the 1 _Jacobi_. And here
some are for the disbarking of oaks, and so to let them stand, before
they fell.
17. To enumerate now the incomparable uses of this wood, were needless;
but so precious was the esteem of it, that of old there was an express
law amongst the Twelve Tables, concerning the very gathering of the
acorns, though they should be found fallen into another man's ground:
The land and the sea do sufficiently speak for the improvement of this
excellent material; houses and ships, cities and navies are built with
it; and there is a kind of it so tough, and extreamly compact, that our
sharpest tools will hardly enter it, and scarcely the very fire it self,
in which it consumes but slowly, as seeming to partake of a ferruginous
and metallin shining nature, proper for sundry robust uses. It is
doubtless of all timber hitherto known, the most universally useful and
strong; for though some trees be harder, as box, cornus, ebony, and
divers of the Indian woods; yet we find them more fragil, and not so
well qualify'd to support great incumbencies and weights, nor is there
any timber more lasting, which way soever us'd. There has (we know) been
no little stir amongst learned men, of what material the Cross was made,
on which our Blessed Saviour suffer'd: Venerable Bede in _Collectaneis_,
affirms it to have been fram'd of several woods, namely cypress, cedar,
pine, and box; and to confirm it S. Hierom has cited the 6th of _Isaiah_
13. _Gloria libani ad te veniet, & buxus & pinus simul ad ornandum locum
sanctificationis meæ, & locum pedum meorum significabo_; but following
the version of the LXX. he reads _in cupresso, pinu & cedro_, &c. Others
insert the palm, and so compose the gibbet of no less than four
different timbers, according to the old verse:
Nail'd were his feet to cedar, to palm his hands;
Cypress his Body bore, title on olive stands:{52:1}
And for this of the palm, they fetch it from that of 7 _Cant._ 8. where
'tis said, _ascendam in palmam, & apprehendam fructus ejus_, and from
other allegorical and mysterious expressions of the Sacred Text, without
any manner of probability; whilst by Alphonsus Ciacconius, Lipsius,
Angelus Rocca, Falconius, and divers other learned men (writing on this
subject) and upon accurate examination of the many fragments pretended
to be parcels of it, 'tis generally concluded to have been the oak; and
I do verily believe it; since those who have described those countries,
assure us there is no tree more frequent; which (with relation to
several celebrations and mysteries under oaks in the Old Testament) has
been the subject of many fine discourses. Nor is it likely they should
chuse, or assemble so many sorts of woods with that curiosity, to
execute one upon, whom they esteemed a malefactor; besides, we read how
heavy it was, which cypress, cedar and palm are not in comparison with
oak; whilst Gretser denies all this, _lib._ 1. _cap._ 6. and concludes
upon his accurate examination of several fragments yet extant, that 'tis
not discernible of what timber it was fram'd. We might add to these, the
furious zeal of the bloody and malicious Jews (to see our B. Lord
inhumanly executed) could not possibly allow leisure to frame a gibbet
of so many rare and curious materials: Let this therefore pass for an
errant legend.
That which is twin'd and a little wreathed (easily to be discern'd by
the texture of the bark) is best to support burthens for posts, columns,
summers, &c. for all which our English oak is infinitely preferable to
the French, which is nothing so useful, nor comparably so strong;
insomuch as I have frequently admir'd at the sudden failing of most
goodly timber to the eye, which being employ'd to these uses, does many
times most dangerously fly in sunder, as wanting that native spring and
toughness which our English oak is indu'd withal. And here we forget not
the stress which Sir H. Wotton, and other architects put even in the
very position of their growth, their native streightness and loftiness,
for columns, supporters, cross-beams, &c. and 'tis found that the
rough-grain'd body of a stubbed oak, is the fittest timber for the case
of a cyder-mill, and such like engines, as best enduring the unquietness
of a ponderous rolling-stone. For shingles, pales, lathes, coopers ware,
clap-board for wainscot, (the ancient{54:1} _intestina opera_ and works
within doors) and some pannells are curiously vein'd, of much esteem in
former times, till the finer grain'd Spanish and Norway timber came
amongst us, which is likewise of a whiter colour. There is in
New-England a certain red-oak, which being fell'd, they season in some
moist and muddy place, which branches into very curious works. It is
observ'd that oak will not easily glue to other wood; no not very well
with its own kind; and some sorts will never cohere tolerably, as the
box and horn-beam, tho' both hard woods; so nor service with cornell,
&c. Oak is excellent for wheel-spokes, pins and pegs for tyling, &c. Mr.
Blith makes spars and small building-timber of oaks of eleven years
growth, which is a prodigious advance, &c. The smallest and streightest
is best, discover'd by the upright tenor of the bark, as being the most
proper for cleaving: The knottiest for water-works, piles, and the like,
because 'twill drive best, and last longest; the crooked, yet firm, for
knee-timber in shipping, millwheels, &c. In a word, how absolutely
necessary the oak is above all the trees of the forest in
naval-architecture, &c. consult Whitson, lib. 1. cap. 13.
Were planting of these woods more in use, we should banish our hoops of
hazel, &c. for those of good copse-oak, which being made of the younger
shoots, are exceeding tough and strong: One of them being of ground-oak,
will outlast six of the best ash; but this our coopers love not to hear
of, who work by the great for sale, and for others. The smaller
trunchions and spray, make billet, bavine and coals; and the bark is of
price with the tanner and dyer, to whom the very saw-dust is of use, as
are the ashes and lee for bucking linnen; and to cure the roapishness of
wine: And 'tis probable the cups of our acorns would tan leather as well
as the bark, I wonder no body makes the experiment, as it is done in
Turky with the _valonia_, which is a kind of acorn growing on the oaks.
The ground-oak, while young, is us'd for poles, cudgels and
walking-staffs, much come into mode of late, but to the wast of many a
hopeful plant which might have prov'd good timber; and I the rather
declaim against the custom, because I suspect they are such as are for
the most part cut, and stolen by idle persons, and brought up to London
in great bundles, without the knowledge or leave of the owners, who
would never have glean'd their copses for such trifling uses. Here I am
again to give a general notice of the peculiar excellency of the roots
of most trees, for fair, beautiful, chamleted and lasting timber,
applicable to many purposes; such as formerly made hafts for daggers,
hangers, knives, handles for staves, tabacco-boxes, and elegant
joyners-work, and even for some mathematical instruments of the larger
size, to be had either in, or near the roots of many trees; however 'tis
a kindness to premonish stewards and surveyors, that they do not
negligently wast those materials: Nor may we here omit to mention tables
for painters, which heretofore were us'd by the most famous artists,
especially the curious pieces of Raphael, Durer, and Holbin, and before
that of canvass, and much more lasting: To these add the galls,
misletoe, polypod, agaric (us'd in antidotes) uvæ, fungus's to make
tinder, and many other useful excrescencies, to the number of above
twenty, which doubtless discover the variety of transudations,
percolations and contextures of this admirable tree; but of the several
fruits, and animals generated of them, and other trees, Francisco Redi
promises an express Treatise, in his _Esperienze intorno alla
Generatione de gl' Insetti_, already publish'd. Pliny affirms, that the
galls break out all together in one night, about the beginning of June,
and arrive to their full growth in one day; this I should recommend to
the experience of some extraordinary vigilant wood-man, had we any of
our oaks that produc'd them, Italy and Spain being the nearest that do:
Galls are of several kinds, but grow upon a different species of _robur_
from any of ours, which never arrive to any maturity; the white and
imperforated are the best; of all which, and their several species, see
Jasp. Bauhinus, and the excellent Malpighius, in his Discourse _de
Gallis_, and other morbous tumors, raised by, and producing insects,
infecting the leaves, stalks and branches of this tree with a venomous
liquor or froth, wherein they lay and deposite their eggs, which bore
and perforate these excrescences, when the worms are hatch'd, so as we
see them in galls.
What benefit the mast does universally yield (once in two years at
least) for the fatting of hogs and deer, I shall shew upon another
occasion, before the conclusion of this Discourse. A peck of acorns a
day, with a little bran, will make an hog ('tis said) increase a
pound-weight _per diem_ for two months together. They give them also to
oxen mingled with bran, chop'd or broken; otherwise they are apt to
sprout and grow in their bellies. Others say, they should first be
macerated in water, to extract their malignity; cattle many times
perishing without this preparation. Cato advises the husband-man to
reserve 240 bushels of acorns for his oxen, mingled with a like quantity
of beans and lupines, and to drench them well. But in truth they are
more proper for swine, and being so made small, will fatten pidgeons,
peacocks, turkeys, pheasants and poultry; nay 'tis reported, that some
fishes feed on them, especially the tunny, in such places of the coast
where trees hang over arms of the sea. Acorns, _esculus ab esca_ (before
the use of wheat-corn was found out) were heretofore the food of men,
nay of Jupiter himself, (as well as other productions of the earth) till
their luxurious palats were debauched: And even in the Romans time, the
custom was in Spain to make a second service of acorns and mast, (as the
French now do of marrons and chesnuts) which they likewise used to rost
under the embers.
........Fed with the oaken mast
The aged trees themselves in years surpass'd.{57:1}
And men had indeed hearts of oak; I mean, not so hard, but health, and
strength, and liv'd naturally, and with things easily parable and plain.
Blest age o'th' world, just nymph, when man did dwell
Under thy shade, whence his provision fell;
Sallads the meal, wildings were the dissert:
No tree yet learn'd by ill-example, art,
With insititious fruit to symbolize,
As in an emblem, our adulteries.{58:1}
As the sweet poet bespeaks the dryad; and therefore it was not call'd
_Quercus_, (as some etymologists fancy'd) because the Pagans
(_quæribantur responsa_) had their oracles under it, but because they
sought for acorns: But 'tis in another{58:2} place where I shew you what
this acorn was; and even now I am told, that those small young acorns
which we find in the stock-doves craws, are a delicious fare, as well as
those incomparable salads of young herbs taken out of the maws of
partridges at a certain season of the year, which gives them a
preparation far exceeding all the art of cookery. Oaks bear also a knur,
full of a cottony matter, of which they anciently made wick for their
lamps and candles; and among the _Selectiora Remedia_ of Jo. Prævotius,
there is mention of an oil _e querna glande_ chymically extracted, which
he affirms to be of the longest continuance, and least consumptive of
any other whatsoever for such lights, _ita ut uncia singulis mensibus
vix ab sumatur continuo igne_: The ingenious author of the Description
of the Western Islands of Scotland, tells us, that (upon his own
experience) a rod of oak of 4, 5, 6 or 8 inches about, being twisted
like a with, boil'd in wort, well dry'd, and kept in a little bundle of
barley-straw, and then steep'd again in wort, causes it to ferment, and
procures yest: The rod should be cut before mid-May, and is frequently
us'd in this manner to furnish yest, and being preserv'd, will serve,
and produce the same effect many years together; and (as the historian
affirms) that he was shew'd a piece of a thick wyth, which had been kept
for making ale with for above 20 years, &c. In the mean time, the leaves
of oaks abundantly congested on snow, preserve it as well for wine, as a
deep pit, or the most artificial refrigeratory. Nor must we pass by the
sweet mel-dews, so much more copiously found on the leaves of this tree,
than any other; whence the industrious bees gather such abundance of
honey, as that instead of carrying it to their hives, they glut
themselves to death: But from this ill report (hastily taken up by
Euricius Cordus) our learned Mr. Ray has vindicated this temperat and
abstemious useful creature. Varro affirms, they made salt of oak ashes,
with which they sometimes seasoned meat, but more frequently made use of
it to sprinkle among, and fertilize their seed-corn: Which minds me of a
certain oak found buried somewhere in Transilvania, near the Salt-pits,
that was entirely converted into an hard salt, when they came to examine
it by cutting. This experiment (if true) may possibly encourage some
other attempts for the multiplying of salt: Nor less strange is that
which some report of a certain water somewhere in Hungary, which
transmutes the leaves of this tree into brass, and iron into copper. Of
the galls is made trial of spaw-water, and the ground and basis of
several dies, especially sadder colours, and are a great revenue to
those who have quantities of them: Nor must I forget ink, compos'd of
galls {oz}iiij, coppras {oz}ij, gum-arabic {oz}i: Beat the galls
grossly, and put them into a quart of claret, or French-wine, and let
them soak for eight or nine days, setting the vessel (an earthen glaz'd
pitcher is best) in the hot sun, if made in summer; in winter near the
fire, stirring it frequently with a wooden spatula: Then add the coppras
and gum, and after it has stood a day or two, it will be fit to use.
There are a world of receipts more, of which see _Caneparius de
Atramentis_. Of the very moss of the oak, that which is white, composes
the choicest cypress-powder, which is esteemed good for the head; but
impostors familiarly vend other mosses under that name, as they do the
fungi (excellent in hemorages and fluxes) for the true agaric, to the
great scandal of physick. Young red oaken leaves decocted in wine, make
an excellent gargle for a sore mouth; and almost every part of this tree
is soveraign against fluxes in general, and where astringents are
proper. The dew that impearls the leaves in May, insolated, meteorizes
and sends up a liquor, which is of admirable effect in ruptures: The
liquor issuing out between the bark, (which looks like treakle) has many
soveraign vertues; and some affirm, the water stagnate in the hollow
stump of a newly fell'd oak, is as effectual as _lignum sanctum_ in the
foul disease, and also stops a diarrhæa: And a water distill'd from the
acorns is good against the pthisick, stitch in the side, and heals
inward ulcers, breaks the stone, and refrigerates inflammations, being
applied with linnen dipp'd therein: nay, the acorns themselves eaten
fasting, kill the worms, provoke urine, and (some affirm) break even the
stone it self. The coals of oak beaten and mingled with honey, cures the
carbuncle; to say nothing of the viscus's, polypods, and other
excrescences, of which innumerable remedies are composed, noble
antidotes, syrups, &c. Nay, 'tis reported, that the very shade of this
tree is so wholesome, that the sleeping, or lying under it becomes a
present remedy to paralyticks, and recovers those whom the mistaken
malign influence of the walnut-tree has smitten: But what is still more
strange, I read in one Paulus a Physician of Denmark, that an handful or
two of small oak buttons, mingled with oats, given to horses which are
black of colour, will in few days eating alter it to a fine dapple-grey,
which he attributes to the vitriol abounding in this tree. To conclude;
and upon serious meditation of the various uses of this and other trees,
we cannot but take notice of the admirable mechanism of vegetables in
general, as in particular in this species; that by the diversity of
percolations and strainers, and by mixtures, as it were of divine
chymistry, various concoctions, &c. the sap should be so green on the
indented leaves, so lustily esculent for our hardier and rustick
constitutions in the fruit; so flat and pallid in the atramental galls;
and haply, so prognostick in the apple; so suberous in the bark (for
even the cork-tree is but a courser oak) so oozie in the tanners pit;
and in that subduction so wonderfully specifick in corroborating the
entrails, and bladder, reins, loins, back, &c. which are all but the
gifts and qualities, with many more, that these robust sons of the earth
afford us; and that in other specifics, even the most despicable and
vulgar elder imparts to us in its rind, leaves, buds, blossoms, berries,
ears, pith, bark, &c. Which hint may also carry our remarks upon all the
varieties of shape, leaf, seed, fruit, timber, grain, colour, and all
those other forms {62:1} that philosophers have enumerated; but which
were here too many for us to repeat. In a word, so great and universal
is the benefit and use of this poly-crest, that they have prohibited the
transporting it out of Norway, where there grows abundance. Let us end
with the poet:
When ships for bloody combat we prepare,
Oak affords plank, and arms our men of war;
Maintains our fires, makes ploughs to till the ground,
For use no timber like the oak is found.{62:2}
FOOTNOTES:
{31:1} _Saturn._ lib. II. cap. 16.
{35:1}
(Cærula distinguens inter plaga currere posset
Per tumulos, & convalles, camposque profusa:
Ut nunc esse vides vario distincta lepôre
Omnia, que pomis intersita dulcibus ornant
Arbustisque tenent felicibus obsita circum).
_Lucret. l. 5._
{37:1} See what Vossius has written in his Observations on Catullus, p.
204. _Indomitus turbo contorquens flamine_......
{39:1}
.....Aurea duræ
Mala ferant quercus.
_Ecl. 8._
{39:2}
Glandemque sues fregere sub Ulmo.
_Geor._
{41:1} Which yet some, upon good experience will not allow in
transplanting young Oaks; affirming the taking them up without any
abatement, or the least wound, does exceedingly advance the growth of
this tree above such as are depriv'd of it.
{41:2}
.......Quæ quantum vertice ad auras
Æthereas, tantum radice in Tartara tendit.
_Geo._ l. 2.
{42:1}
Quinetiam Coeli regionem in cortice signant,
Ut quo quæque modo steterit, quâ parte calores
Austrinos tulerit, quæ terga obverterit axi,
Restituant: Adeo in teneris consuescere multum est.
_Geor._ li. 1.
{52:1}
Quatuor ex lignis domini crux dicitur esse, &c.
Pes crucis est cedrus, corpus tenet alta cupressus;
Palma manus retinet, titulo lætatur oliva.
{54:1} And therefore were joyners called intestinary. See Leg. 2. _Cod.
Theodos._
{57:1}
.........Et quernâ glande repasta
Æquâsse annosas vivendo corpora Quercus.
{58:1}
Foelix illa ætas mundi, justissima nymphe,
Cùm dabat umbra domum vivam tua, cùm domus ipsa
Deciduâ dominos pascebat fruge quietos,
Soláque præbebant sylvestria poma secundas
Gramineis epulas mensis; nondum arte magistra
Arbor adulteriis præluserat insita nostris, &c.
_Couleii_ Pl. _l._ 6.
{58:2} Cap. I. Book III.
{62:1} Of the ilex and cork (reckon'd among the glandiferus) see Book
II. cap. V. and of the sacred and mysterious Missalto, Book III. cap.
I.; see also more of _quercus_, Mr. Ray's _Hist. Plan._ tom. III. cap.
_De Quercus_, tom. II. p. 1390.
{62:2}
Si quando armandæ naves, & bella paranda,
Det quercus nautis tabulata, det arma furori
Bellantum; det ligna foco, det aratra colono,
Aut aliis alios porro sumatur in usus.
_Rapinus._
CHAPTER IV.
_Of the Elm._
1. _Ulmus_ the elm, there are four or five sorts, and from the
difference of the soil and air divers spurious: Two of these kinds are
most worthy our culture, the vulgar, viz. the mountain elm, which is
taken to be the _oriptelea_ of Theophrastus; being of a less jagged and
smaller leaf; and the _vernacula_ or French elm, whose leaves are
thicker, and more florid, glabrous and smooth, delighting in the lower
and moister grounds, where they will sometimes rise to above an hundred
foot in height, and a prodigious growth, in less than an age; my self
having seen one planted by the hand of a Countess living not long since,
which was near 12 foot in compass, and of an height proportionable;
notwithstanding the numerous progeny which grew under the shade of it,
some whereof were at least a foot in diameter, that for want of being
seasonably transplanted, must needs have hindered the procerity of their
ample and indulgent mother: I am persuaded some of these were
_viviradices_, & _traduces_, produc'd of the falling seeds.
2. For though both these sorts are rais'd of _appendices_, or suckers
(as anon we shall describe) yet this latter comes well from the _samera_
or seeds, and therefore I suppose it to be the ancient _atinia_, for
such an elm they acknowledge to be rais'd of seeds, which being ripe
about the beginning of March (though frequently not till the following
month) will produce them; as we might have seen abundantly in the
gardens of the Thuilleries, and that of Luxembourgh at Paris, where they
usually sow themselves, and come up very thick; and so do they in many
places of our country, tho' so seldom taken notice of, as that it is
esteemed a fable, by the less observant and ignorant vulgar; let it
therefore be tried in season, by turning and raking some fine earth,
often refreshed, under some amply spreading tree, or to raise them of
their seeds (being well dried a day or two before) sprinkled on beds
prepar'd of good loamy fresh earth, and sifting some of the finest
mould thinly over them, and watering them when need requires. Being
risen (which may be within 4 or 5 months) an inch above ground
(refreshed, and preserved from the scraping of birds and poultry)
comfort the tender seedlings by a second sifting of more fine earth, to
establish them; thus keep them clean weeded for the first two years, and
cleansing the side-boughs; or till being of fitting stature to remove
into a nursery at wider intervals, and even rows, you may thin and
transplant them in the same manner as you were directed for young oaks;
only they shall not need above one cutting, where they grow less regular
and hopeful. But because this is an experiment of some curiosity,
obnoxious to many casualties, and that the producing them from the
mother-roots of greater trees is very facile and expeditious (besides
the numbers which are to be found in the hedge-rows and woods, of all
plantable sizes) I rather advise our forester to furnish himself from
those places.
3. The suckers which I speak of, are produced in abundance from the
roots, whence, being dextrously separated, after the earth has been well
loosened, and planted about the end of October, they will grow very
well: Nay, the stubs only, which are left in the ground after a felling
(being fenced in as far as the roots extend) will furnish you with
plenty, which may be transplanted from the first year or two,
successively, by slipping them from the roots, which will continually
supply you for many years, after that the body of the mother-tree has
been cut down: And from hence probably is sprung that (I fear) mistake
of Salmasius and others, where they write of the growing of their chips
(I suppose having some of the bark on) scattered in hewing of their
timber; the error proceeding from this, that after an elm-tree has been
fell'd, the numerous suckers which shoot from the remainders of the
latent roots, seem to be produced from this dispersion of the chips: Let
this yet be more accurately examined; for I pronounce nothing
magisterially, since it is so confidently reported.
4. I have known stakes sharpned at the ends for other purposes, take
root familiarly in moist grounds, and become trees; and divers have
essay'd with extraordinary success the trunchions of the boughs and arms
of elms cut to the scantling of a man's arm, about an ell in length.
These must be chopp'd on each side opposite, and laid into trenches
about half a foot deep, covered about two or three fingers deep with
good mould. The season for this work is towards the exit of January, or
early in February, if the frosts impede not; and after the first year,
you may cut, or saw the trunchions off in as many places as you find
cause, and as the shoots and rooted sprouts will direct you for
transplantation. Another expedient for the propagation of elms is this:
Let trenches be sunk at a good distance (viz. twenty or thirty yards)
from such trees as stand in hedge-rows, and in such order as you desire
your elms should grow; where these gutters are, many young elms will
spring from the small roots of the adjoining trees. Divide (after one
year) the shoots from their mother-roots (which you may dextrously do
with a sharp spade) and these transplanted, will prove good trees
without any damage to their progenitors. Or do thus, lop a young elm,
the lop being about three years growth, do it in the latter end of
March, when the sap begins to creep up into the boughs, and the buds
ready to break out; cut the boughs into lengths of four foot slanting,
leaving the knot where the bud seems to put forth in the middle: Inter
these short pieces in trenches of three or four inches deep, and in good
mould well trodden, and they will infallibly produce you a crop; for
even the smallest suckers of elms will grow, being set when the sap is
newly stirring in them. There is yet a fourth way no less expeditious,
and frequently confirmed with excellent success: Bare some of the
master-roots of a vigorous tree within a foot of the trunk, or there
abouts, and with your axe make several chops, putting a small stone into
every cleft, to hinder their closure, and give access to the wet; then
cover them with three or four inch-thick of earth; and thus they will
send forth suckers in abundance, (I assure you one single elm thus well
ordered, is a fair nursery) which after two or three years, you may
separate and plant in the _Ulmarium_, or place designed for them; and
which if it be in plumps (as they call them) within ten or twelve foot
of each other, or in hedge-rows, it will be the better: For the elm is a
tree of consort, sociable, and so affecting to grow in company, that the
very best which I have ever seen, do almost touch one another: This also
protects them from the winds, and causes them to shoot of an
extraordinary height; so as in little more than forty years, they even
arrive to a load of timber; provided they be sedulously and carefully
cultivated, and the soil propitious. For an elm does not thrive so well
in the forest, as where it may enjoy scope for the roots to dilate and
spread at the sides, as in hedge-rows and avenues, where they have the
air likewise free: Note, that they spring abundantly by layers also.
5. There is besides these sorts we have named, one of a more scabrous
harsh leaf, but very large, which becomes an huge tree, (frequent in the
northern counties) and is distinguished by the name of the witch-hazle
in our Statute Books, as serving formerly to make long bowes of; but the
timber is not so good as the first more vulgar; but the bark at time of
year, will serve to make a course bast-rope with.
6. Of all the trees which grow in our woods, there is none which does
better suffer the transplantation than the elm; for you may remove a
tree of twenty years growth with undoubted success: It is an experiment
I have made in a tree almost as big more as my waste; but then you must
totally disbranch him, leaving only the summit intire; and being careful
to take him up with as much earth as you can, refresh him with abundance
of water. This is an excellent, and expeditious way for great persons to
plant the accesses of their houses with; for being disposed at sixteen
or eighteen foot interval, they will in a few years bear goodly heads,
and thrive to admiration. Some that are very cautious, emplaster the
wounds of such over-grown elms with a mixture of clay and horse-dung,
bound about them with a wisp of hay or fine moss, and I do not reprove
it, provided they take care to temper it well, so as the vermine nestle
not in it. But for more ordinary plantations, younger trees, which have
their bark smooth and tender, clear of wenns and tuberous bunches (for
those of that sort seldom come to be stately trees) about the scantling
of your leg, and their heads trimm'd at five or six foot height, are to
be prefer'd before all other. Cato would have none of these sorts of
trees to be removed till they are five or six fingers in diameter;
others think they cannot take them too young; but experience (the best
mistress) tells us, that you can hardly plant an elm too big. There are
who pare away the root within two fingers of the stem, and quite cut off
the head; but I cannot commend this extream severity, no more than I do
the strewing of oats in the pit; which fermenting with the moisture and
frequent waterings, is believed much to accelerate the putting forth of
the roots; not considering, that for want of air they corrupt and grow
musty, which more frequently suffocates the roots, and endangers the
whole tree.
7. I have affirmed how patient this tree is of transplantation; not only
for that I observe so few of them to grow wild in England, and where it
may not be suspected, but they or their predecessors have been planted
by some industrious hand; but for that those incomparable walks and
vistas of them, both at Aranjuez, Casal del Campo, Madrid, the Escurial,
and other places of delight, belonging to the King and Grandees of
Spain, are planted with such as they report Philip the second caused to
be brought out of England; before which (as that most honourable person
the Earl of Sandwich, when his Majesty's Ambassador Extraordinary at
that Court writ to me) it does not appear there were any of those trees
in all Spain. But of that plantation, see it more particularly describ'd
in the Eighth Chapter, Book III^d of this Discourse, whither I refer my
reader: Whilst (as to my own inclination) I know of no tree amongst all
the foresters, becoming the almost _interminat lontananza_ of walks and
vistas, comparable to this majestick plant: But let us hear it as
sweetly advised as described;
An elm for graceful verdure, bushy bough,
A lofty top, and a firm rind allow.
Plant elm in borders, on the grass-plots list,
Branches of elm into thick arbours twist;
A gallery of elm draw to the end,
That eyes can reach, or a breath'd race extend.{69:1}
8. The elm delights in a sound, sweet, and fertile land, something more
inclined to loamy moisture, and where good pasture is produced; though
it will also prosper in the gravelly, provided there be a competent
depth of mould, and be refreshed with springs; in defect of which, being
planted on the very surface of the ground (the swarth par'd first away,
and the earth stirred a foot deep or more) they will undoubtedly
succeed; but in this trial, let the roots be handsomly spread, and
covered a foot or more in height; and above all, firmly staked. This is
practicable also for other trees, where the soil is over-moist or
unkind: For as the elm does not thrive in too dry, sandy, or hot
grounds, no more will it abide the cold and spungy; but in places that
are competently fertile, or a little elevated from these annoyances; as
we see in the mounds, and casting up of ditches, upon whose banks the
female sort does more naturally delight; though it seems to be so much
more addicted to some places than to others, that I have frequently
doubted, whether it be a pure _indigene_ or _translatitious_; and not
only because I have hardly ever known any considerable woods of them
(besides some few nurseries near Cambridge, planted I suppose for store)
but almost continually in tufts, hedge-rows, and mounds; and that
Shropshire, and several other counties, and rarely any beyond Stamford
to Durham, have any growing in many miles together: Indeed Camden
mentions a place in Yorkshire call'd Elmet; and V. Bede, _Eccl. Hist.
l._ 11. c. 14. (speaking of a fire hap'ning there, and describing of the
harm it did thereabout, _ulmarium_ or _ulmetum_) _evasit autem ignem
altare, quia lapidium erat, & servatur adhuc in monasterio r. abbatis &
presbyteri thrythwuelf, quod in sylva elmete est_; but neither does this
speak it miraculous, (for the altar it seems was stone) or that the elms
grew spontaneously. In the mean time, some affirm they were first
brought out of Lombardy, where indeed I have observ'd very goodly trees
about the rich grounds, with pines among them, _vitelus almi_; for I
hear of none either in Saxony or Denmark, nor in France, (growing wild)
who all came and prey'd upon us after the Romans. But leaving this to
the learned.
9. The elm is by reason of its aspiring and tapering growth, (unless it
be topped to enlarge the branches, and make them spread low) the least
offensive to corn and pasture-grounds; to both which, and the cattel,
they afford a benign shade, defence, and agreeable ornament: But then as
to pastures, the wand'ring roots (apt to infect the fields and grass
with innumerable suckers) the leading mother-root ought to be quite
separated on that part, and the suckers irradicated. The like should be
done where they are placed near walks of turf or gravel.
10. It would be planted as shallow as might be; for, as we noted, deep
interring of roots is amongst the catholick mistakes; and of this, the
greatest to which trees are obnoxious. Let new-planted elms be kept
moist by frequent refreshings upon some half-rotten fern, or litter laid
about the foot of the stem; the earth a little stirred and depressed for
the better reception and retention of the water.
11. Lastly, your plantation must above all things be carefully preserved
from cattel and the concussions of impetuous winds, till they are out of
reach of the one, and sturdy enough to encounter the other.
12. When you lop the side-boughs of an elm (which may be about January
for the fire, and more frequently, if you desire to have them tall; or
that you would form them into hedges, for so they may be kept plashed,
and thickned to the highest twig; affording both a magnificent and
august defence against the winds and sun) I say, when you trim them, be
careful to indulge the tops; for they protect the body of your trees
from the wet, which always invades those parts first, and will in time
perish them to the very heart; so as elms beginning thus to decay, are
not long prosperous. Sir Hugh Plat relates (as from an expert carpenter)
that the boughs and branches of an elm should be left a foot long next
the trunk when they are lopp'd; but this is to my certain observation, a
very great mistake either in the relator, or author; for I have noted
many elms so disbranched, that the remaining stubs grew immediately
hollow, and were as so many conduits or pipes, to hold, and convey the
rain to the very body and heart of the tree.
13. There was a cloyster of the right French elm in the little garden
near to Her Majesty's the Queen-Mother's Chappel at Somerset-House,
which were (I suppose) planted there, by the industry of the F. F.
Capuchines, that would have directed you to the incomparable use of this
noble tree for shade and delight, into whatever figure you will accustom
them. I have my self procured some of them from Paris, but they were so
abused in the transportation, that they all perished save one, which now
flourishes with me: I have also lately graffed elms to a great
improvement of their heads. Virgil tells us they will join in marriage
with the oak, and they would both be tryed; and that with the more
probable success, for such lignous kinds, if you graff under the earth,
upon, or near the very root it self, which is likely to entertain the
cyon better than when more exposed, till it be well fixt, and have made
some considerable progress.
14. When you would fell, let the sap be perfectly in repose; as 'tis
commonly about November or December, even to February, after the frost
hath well nipp'd them: I have already alledged my reason for it; and I
am told, that both oak and elm so cut, the very saplings (whereof
rafters, spars, &c. are made) will continue as long as the very heart of
the tree, without decay. In this work, cut your kerfe near to the
ground; but have a care that it suffer not in the fall, and be ruined
with its own weight: This depends upon your wood-man's judgment in
disbranching, and is a necessary caution to the felling of all other
timber-trees. If any begin to doat, pick out such for the axe, and
rather trust to its successor. And if cutting over-late, by floating
them 2 or 3 months in the water, it prevents the worm, and proves the
best of seasons.
15. Elm is a timber of most singular use; especially where it may lie
continually dry, or wet, in extreams; therefore proper for water-works,
mills, the ladles, and soles of the wheel, pipes, pumps, aquæ-ducts,
pales, ship-planks beneath the water-line; and some that has been found
buried in bogs has turned like the most polish'd and hardest ebony, only
discerned by the grain: Also for wheel-wrights, handles for the single
hand-saw, rails and gates made of elm (thin sawed) is not so apt to rive
as oak: The knotty for naves, hubs; the straight and smooth for
axle-trees, and the very roots for curiously dappled works, scarce has
any superior for kerbs of coppers, featheridge, and weather-boards, (but
it does not without difficulty, admit the nail without boreing)
chopping-blocks, blocks for the hat-maker, trunks, and boxes to be
covered with leather; coffins, for dressers and shovel-board-tables of
great length, and a lustrous colour if rightly seasoned; also for the
carver, by reason of the tenor of the grain, and toughness which fits it
for all those curious works of frutages, foliage, shields, statues, and
most of the ornaments appertaining to the orders of architecture, and
for not being much subject to warping; I find that of old they used it
even for hinges and hooks of doors; but then, that part of the plank
which grew towards the top of the tree, was in work to be always
reversed; and for that it is not so subject to rift; Vitruvius commends
it both for tenons and mortaises: But besides these, and sundry other
employments, it makes also the second sort of charcoal; and finally,
(which I must not omit) the use of the very leaves of this tree,
especially of the female, is not to be despis'd; for being suffered to
dry in the sun upon the branches, and the spray strip'd off about the
decrease in August (as also where the suckers and stolones are
super-numerary, and hinder the thriving of their nurses) they will prove
a great relief to cattel in winter, and scorching summers, when hay and
fodder is dear they will eat them before oats, and thrive exceedingly
well with them; remember only to lay your boughs up in some dry and
sweet corner of your barn: It was for this the poet prais'd them, and
the epithet was advis'd,
fruitful in leaves the elm.{74:1}
In some parts of Herefordshire they gather them in sacks for their
swine, and other cattel, according to this husbandry. But I hear an ill
report of them for bees, that surfeiting of the blooming seeds, they are
obnoxious to the lask, at their first going abroad in spring, which
endangers whole stocks, if remedies be not timely adhibited; therefore
'tis said in great elm countries they do not thrive; but the truth of
which I am yet to learn. The green leaf of the elms contused, heals a
green wound or cut, and boiled with the bark, consolidates fractur'd
bones. All the parts of this tree are abstersive, and therefore
sovereign for the consolidating wounds; and asswage the pains of the
gout: But the bark decocted in common water, to almost the consistence
of a syrup, adding a third part of _aqua vitæ_, is a most admirable
remedy for the _ischiadicæ_ or hip-pain, the place being well rubb'd and
chaf'd by the fire. Other wonderful cures perform'd by the liquor, &c.
of this tree, see Mr. Ray's _History of Plants_, lib. XXV. cap. 1. sect.
5. and for other species of the elm, his Supplement, tom. III. _ad cap.
De Ulmo._ tom. II. p. 1428.
FOOTNOTES:
{69:1}
Ut viror est ulmo lætus, ramique comantes,
Arduus, alta petens & levi cortice truncus.
Ulmum adhibe ordinibus, quoties sudenda per hortum,
Sunt serie spatia ingenti, texendaque totis
Æstivos contra soles umbracula campis:
Una alias inter texendis aptior ulmus
Marginibus spatiorum, exornandoque vireto.
Seque adeo series, plano super æquore, tendat
Ulmorum tractu longo; quantum ipsa tuentum
Lumina, vel gressus valeant lustrare sequentum.
_Rapinus._
{74:1}
.........foecundæ frondibus ulmi.
_Georg. 2._
CHAPTER V.
_Of the Beech._
I. The beech, [_fagus_] (of two or three kinds) and numbred amongst the
glandiferous trees, I rank here before the martial ash, because it
commonly grows to a greater stature. But here I may not omit a note of
the accurate critic Palmerius, upon a passage in Theophrastus,{75:1}
where he animadverts upon his interpreter, and shews that the ancient
+Phêgos+ was by no means the beech, but a kind of oak; for that the
figure of the fruit is so widely unlike it, that being round, this
triangular; and both Theophrastus and Pausanias make it indeed a species
of oak, (as already we have noted in cap. III.) wholly differing in
trunk, as well as fruit and leaf; to which he adds (what determines the
controversie) +xylon tês phêlou ischyrotaton kai asêpesaton+, &c. _that
it is of a firmer timber, not obnoxious to the worm_; neither of which
can so confidently be said of the beech. Yet La Cerda too seems guilty
of the same mistake: But leaving this, there are of our _fagi_, two or
three kinds with us; the mountain (where it most affects to grow) which
is the whitest, and most sought after by the turner; and the campestrial
or wild, which is of a blacker colour, and more durable. They are both
to be rais'd from the mast, and govern'd like the oak (of which amply)
and that is absolutely the best way of furnishing a wood; unless you
will make a nursery, and then you are to treat the mast as you are
instructed in the chapter of ashes, sowing them in autumn, or later,
even after January, or rather nearer the spring, to preserve them from
vermin, which are very great devourers of them. But they are likewise to
be planted of young seedlings, to be drawn out of the places where the
fruitful trees abound. In transplanting them, cut off only the boughs
and bruised parts two inches from the stem, to within a yard of the top,
but be very sparing of the root: This for such as are of pretty stature.
They make spreading trees, and noble shades with their well furnish'd
and glistering leaves, being set at forty foot distance, but they grow
taller, and more upright in the forests, where I have beheld them at
eight and ten foot, shoot into very long poles; but neither so apt for
timber, nor fuel: The shade unpropitious to corn and grass, but sweet,
and of all the rest, most refreshing to the weary shepherd--_lentus in
umbra_, ecchoing Amaryllis with his oten pipe. Mabillon tells us in his
Itinerary, of the old beech at Villambrosa, to be still flourishing,
(and greener than any of the rest) under whose umbrage the famous eremit
Gualbertus had his cell.
This tree planted in pallisade, affords a useful and pleasant skreen to
shelter orange and other tender case-trees from the parching sun, &c.
growing very tall, and little inferior to the horn-beam, or Dutch-elm.
In the valleys (where they stand warm, and in consort) they will grow to
a stupendous procerity, though the soil be stony and very barren: Also
upon the declivities, sides, and tops of high hills, and chalky
mountains especially, for tho' they thrust not down such deep and
numerous roots as the oak; and grow to vast trees, they will strangely
insinuate their roots into the bowels of those seemingly impenetrable
places, not much unlike the fir it self, which with this so common tree,
the great Cæsar denies to be found in Britanny; _Materia cujusque
generis, ut in Gallia, præter fagum & abietem_: But certainly from a
grand mistake, or rather, for that he had not travelled much up into the
countrey: Some will have it _fagus_ instead of _ficus_, but that was
never reckon'd among the timber-trees: Virgil reports it will graff with
the chesnut.
2. The beech serves for various uses of the housewife;
Hence in the world's best years the humble shed,
Was happily, and fully furnished:
Beech made their chests, their beds and the joyn'd-stools,
Beech made the board, the platters, and the bowls.{77:1}
With it the turner makes dishes, trays, rimbs for buckets, and other
utensils, trenchers, dresser-boards, &c. likewise for the wheeler,
joyner, for large screws, and upholster for sellyes, chairs, stools,
bedsteads, &c. for the bellows-maker, and husbandman his shovel and
spade-graffs; floates for fishers nets instead of corks, is made of its
bark; for fuel, billet, bavin and coal, tho' one of the least lasting:
Not to omit even the very shavings for the fining of wines. Peter
Crescentius writes, that the ashes of beech, with proper mixture, is
excellent to make glass with. If the timber lie altogether under water,
'tis little inferior to elm, as I find it practised and asserted by
shipwrights: Of old they made their _vasa vindemiatoria_ and _corbes
messoriæ_ (as we our pots for strawberries) with the rind of this beech,
nay, and vessels to preserve wine in, and that curiously wrought cup
which the shepherd in the Bucolicks wagers withal, was engraven by
Alcimedon upon the bark of this tree: And an happy age it seems:
........No wars did men molest,
When only beechen-bowls were in request.{78:1}
Of the thin _lamina_ or scale of this wood (as our cutlers call it) are
made scabards for swords, and band-boxes, superinduc'd with thin leather
or paper, boxes for writings, hat-cases, and formerly book-covers. I
wonder we cannot split it our selves, but send into other countries for
such trifles. In the cavities of these trees, bees much delight to hive
themselves: Yet for all this, you would not wonder to hear me deplore
the so frequent use of this wood, if you did consider that the industry
of France furnishes that country for all domestick utensils with
excellent wallnut; a material infinitely preferable to the best beech,
which is indeed good only for shade and for the fire, as being brittle,
and exceedingly obnoxious to the worm, where it lies either dry, or wet
and dry, as has been noted; but being put ten days in water, it will
exceedingly resist the worm: To which, as I said, it is so obnoxious,
that I wish the use of it were by a law, prohibited all joyners,
cabinet-makers, and such as furnish tables, chairs, bed-steads, cofers,
screws, &c. They have a way to black and polish it, so as to render it
like ebony, and with a mixture of soot and urine, imitate the wall-nut;
but as the colour does not last, so nor does the wood it self (for I can
hardly call it timber) soon after the worm has seiz'd it, unless one
spunge and imbibe it well with the oyl of spike, where they have made
holes. Ricciolus indeed much commends it for oars; and some say, that
the vast Argo was built of the _fagus_, a good part of it at least, as
we learn out of Apollonius; this will admit of interpretation; the
_fagus_ yet by Claudian is mentioned with the alder,
So he that to export o're sea his wares
A vessel builds, and to expose prepares
His life to storms, first beech and elder cuts,
And measuring them, to various uses puts.{79:1}
But whilst we thus condemn the timber, we must not omit to praise the
mast, which fats our swine and deer, and hath in some families even
supported men with bread: Chios indured a memorable siege by the benefit
of this mast; and in some parts of France they now grind the buck in
mills: It affords a sweet oyl, which the poor people eat most willingly:
But there is yet another benefit which this tree presents us; that its
very leaves (which make a natural and most agreeable canopy all the
summer) being gathered about the fall, and somewhat before they are much
frostbitten, afford the best and easiest mattrasses in the world to lay
under our quilts instead of straw; because, besides their tenderness and
loose lying together, they continue sweet for seven or eight years
long, before which time straw becomes musty and hard; they are thus used
by divers persons of quality in Dauphine; and in Swizzerland I have
sometimes lain on them to my great refreshment; so as of this tree it
may properly be said,
The wood's an house; the leaves a bed.{80:1}
Being pruin'd it heals the scar immediately, and is not apt to put forth
so soon again as other trees.
The stagnant water in the hollow-trees cures the most obstinate tetters,
scabs, and scurfs, in man or beast, fomenting the part with it; and the
leaves chew'd are wholsome for the gums and teeth, for which the very
buds, as they are in winter hardned and dried upon the twigs, make good
tooth-pickers. Swine may be driven to mast about the end of August: But
it is observ'd, that where they feed on't before it be mature, it
intoxicates them for a while; and that generally their fat is not so
good and solid, but drips away too soon. In the mean time, the kernels
of the mast are greedily devour'd by squirels, mice, and above all, the
dormice, who harbouring in the hollow-trees, grow so fat, that in some
countries abroad, they take infinite numbers of them, (I suppose) to
eat; and what relief they give thrushes, black-birds, feldefares and
other birds, every body knows. See Mithiolus in _dioscord._ l. 1. of
what they suffer in Carinthiæ, Carniola, and Itiria. Supplement to this
Tract. _vid._ Ray's tom. III. Lib. XXV. Dendrologia Fago. tom. II. p.
1382.
FOOTNOTES:
{75:1} Theophrast. l. 3. c. 9.
{77:1}
Hinc olim juvenis mundi melioribus annis,
Fortunatarum domuum non magna supellex
Tota petebatur; sellas, armaria, lectos,
Et mensas dabat, & lances & pocula fagus, _&c._
_Couleij Pl._ l. 6.
{78:1}
.........Nec bella fuerunt,
Faginus adstabat dum scyphus ante dapes.
_Tibul._
{79:1}
Sic qui vecturus longinqua per æquora merces
Molitur tellure ratem, vitamque procellis
Objectare parat, fagos metitur, & alnos,
Ad varium rudibus silvis accommodat usum, &c.
{80:1}
..........Silva domus, cubilia frondes.
_Juvenal._
CHAPTER VI.
_Of the Horn-beam._
1. _Ostrys_ the horn-beam, (by some called the horse-beech, from the
resemblance of the leaf) in Latin (ignorantly) the _Carpinus_, is
planted of sets; though it may likewise be rais'd from the _jülas_ and
seeds, which being mature in August, should be sown in October, and will
lie a year in the bed, which must be well and carefully shaded so soon
as they peep: But the more expeditious way is by layers or sets, of
about an inch diameter, and cut within half a foot of the earth: Thus it
will advance to a considerable tree. The places it chiefly desires to
grow in are in cold hills, stiff ground, and in the barren and most
expos'd parts of woods. We have it no where more abounding in the south,
than in the woods of Hartfordshire; very few westward.
2. Amongst other uses which it serves for, as mill-cogs, &c. (for which
it excels either yew or crab) yoak-timber (whence of old, and for that
it was as well flexible as tough, 'twas call'd +zygia+) heads of
beetles, stocks and handles of tools: It is likewise for the turners use
excellent; good fire-wood, where it burns like a candle, and was of old
so employ'd;
_Carpinus tædas fissa facesque dabit._
(For all which purposes its extream toughness and whiteness commends it
to the husbandman.) Being planted in small fosses or trenches, at half a
foot interval, and in the single row, it makes the noblest and the
stateliest hedges for long walks in gardens, or parks, of any tree
whatsoever whose leaves are deciduous, and forsake their branches in
winter; because it grows tall, and so sturdy, as not to be wronged by
the winds: Besides, it will furnish to the very foot of the stem, and
flourishes with a glossie and polish'd verdure, which is exceeding
delightful, of long continuance, and of all other the harder woods, the
speediest grower; maintaining a slender, upright-stem, which does not
come to be bare and sticky in many years; it has yet this (shall I call
it) infirmity, that keeping on its leaf till new ones thrust them off,
'tis clad in russet all the winter long. That admirable _espalier_-hedge
in the long middle walk of Luxemburgh garden at Paris (than which there
is nothing more graceful) is planted of this tree; and so was that
cradle, or close-walk, with that perplext canopy which lately covered
the seat in his Majesty's Garden at Hampton-Court, and as now I hear,
they are planted in perfection at New-park, the delicious villa of the
Noble Earl of Rochester, belonging once to a near kinsman of mine, who
parted with it to K. Charles the First of Blessed Memory. These hedges
are tonsile; but where they are maintain'd to fifteen or twenty foot
height (which is very frequent in the places before mention'd) they are
to be cut, and kept in order with a syth of four foot long, and very
little falcated; this is fix'd on a long sneed or streight handle, and
does wonderfully expedite the trimming of these and the like hedges: An
oblong square, palisado'd with this plant, or the Flemish _ormus_, as is
that I am going to describe, and may be seen in that inexhaustible
magazine at Brompton Park (cultivated by those two industrious
fellow-gardiners, Mr. London, and Mr. Wise) affords such an _umbraculum
frondium_, the most natural, proper station and convenience for the
protection of our orange-trees, myrtles, (and other rare perennials and
exoticks) from the scorching darts of the sun, and heat of summer;
placing the cases, pots, &c. under this shelter, when either at the
first peeping out of the winter concleave, or during the increasing heat
of summer, they so are ranged and disposed, as to adorn a noble area of
a most magnificent paradisian dining-room to the top of hortulan pomp
and bliss, superior to all the artificial furniture of the greatest
prince's court: Here the Indian narcissus, tuberoses, Japan-lillies,
jasmines, jonquills, lalaes, periclymena, roses, carnations, (with all
the pride of the _parter_) intermixt between the tree-cases, flowry
vasas, busts and statues, entertain the eye, and breath their redolent
odors and perfumes to the smell: The golden fruit and apples of
Hesperides, gratifie the taste, with the delicious annanas, affecting
all the sensories; whilst the chearful ditties of _canorus_ birds,
recording their innocent _amours_ to the murmurs of the bubling
fountain, delight the ear, and with the charming accents of the fair and
vertuous sex, (preferable to all the admired composure of the most
skilful musitians) join consort in hymns and hallelujahs to the
bountiful and glorious Creator, who has left none of the senses, which
he has not gratify'd at once, with their most agreeable and proper
objects.
But to return to Brompton: 'Tis not to be imagin'd what a surprizing
scene, such a spacious _salone_, tapistried with the natural verdure of
the glittering foliage, present the spectator, and recompenses the toil
of the ingenious planter; when after a little patience, he finds the
slender plants, set but at five or six foot distance, (nor much more in
height, well prun'd and dress'd) ascend to an altitude sufficient to
shade and defend his paradisian treasure without excluding the milder
gleams of the glorious and radiant planet, with his cherishing
influence, and kindly warmth, to all within the inclosure, refreshed
with the cooling and early dew, pregnant with the sweet exhalations
which the indulgent mother and teeming earth sends up, to nourish and
maintain her numerous and tender off-spring.
But after all, let us not dwell here too long, whilst the inferences to
be derived from those tempting and temporary objects, prompt us to raise
our contemplations a little on objects yet more worthy our noblest
speculations, and all our pains and curiosity, representing that happy
state above, namely, the coelestial paradise: Let us, I say, suspend our
admiration a while, of these terrestrial gayeties, which are of so short
continuance, and raise our thoughts from being too deeply immers'd and
rooted in them, aspiring after those supernal, more lasting and glorious
abodes, namely, a paradise; not like this of ours (with so much pains
and curiosity) made with hands, but eternal in the heavens; where all
the trees are Trees of Life; the flowers all amaranths; all the plants
perennial, ever verdant, ever pregnant; and where those who desire
knowledge, may fully satiate themselves; taste freely of the fruit of
that tree, which cost the first gardiner and posterity so dear; and
where the most voluptuous inclinations to the allurements of the senses,
may take, and eat, and still be innocent; no forbidden fruit; no serpent
to deceive; none to be deceived.
Hail, O hail then, and welcome, you bless'd elyziums, where a new state
of things expects us; where all the pompous and charming delights that
detain us here a while, shall be changed into real and substantial
fruitions, eternal springs, and pleasure intellectual, becoming the
dignity of our nature!
I beg no pardon for the application, but deplore my no better use of it,
and that whilst I am thus upon the wing, I must now descend so soon
again.
Of all the foresters, this preserves it self best from the bruttings of
deer, and therefore to be kindly entertain'd in parks: But the reason
why with us, we rarely find them ample and spreading, is, that our
husbandman suffers too large and grown a lop, before he cuts them off,
which leaves such ghastly wounds, as often proves exitial to the tree,
or causes it to grow deform'd and hollow, and of little worth but for
the fire; whereas, were they oftener taken off, when the lops were
younger, though they did not furnish so great wood, yet the continuance
and flourishing of the tree, would more than recompence it. For this
cause,
3. They very frequently plant a clump of these trees before the entries
of most of the great towns in Germany, to which they apply timber-frames
for convenience, and the people to sit and solace in. _Scamozzi_ the
architect, says, that in his time he found one whose branches extended
seventy foot in breadth; this was at Vuimfen near the Necker, belonging
to the Duke of Wirtemberg: But that which I find planted before the
gates of Strasburgh, is a _platanus_, and a lime-tree growing hard by
one another, in which is erected a _Pergolo_ eight foot from the ground,
of fifty foot wide, having ten arches of twelve foot height, all shaded
with their foliage; and there is besides this, an over-grown oak, which
has an arbour in it of sixty foot diameter: Hear we _Rapinus_ describe
the use of the horn-beam for these and other elegancies.
In walks the horn-beam stands, or in a maze
Through thousand self-entangling labyrinths strays:
So clasp the branches lopp'd on either side,
As though an alley did two walls divide:
This beauty found, order did next adorn
The boughs into a thousand figures shorn,
Which pleasing objects weariness betray'd,
Your feet into a wilderness convey'd.
Nor better leaf on twining arbor spread,
Against the scorching sun to shield your head.{86:1}
Evelyn, _Rapin._
FOOTNOTES:
{86:1}
In tractus longos facilis tibi carpinus ibit,
Mille per errores, indeprehensosque recessus,
Et molles tendens secto ceu pariete ramos,
Præbebit viridem diverso è margine scenam.
Primus honos illi quondam, post additus ordo est,
Attonsæque comæ, & formis quæsita voluptas
Innumeris, furtoque viæ, obliquoque recessu:
In tractus acta est longos & opaca vireta.
Quinetiam egregiæ tendens umbracula frondis
Temperat ardentes ramis ingentibus æstus.
CHAPTER VII.
_Of the Ash._
1. _Fraxinus_ the ash, is with us reputed male and female, the one
affecting the higher grounds; the other the plains, of a whiter wood,
and rising many times to a prodigious stature; so as in forty years from
the key, an ash hath been sold for thirty pounds sterling: And I have
been credibly inform'd, that one person hath planted so much of this one
sort of timber in his life time, as hath been valued worth fifty
thousand pounds to be bought. These are pretty encouragements, for a
small and pleasant industry. That there is a lower, and more knotty
sort, every husbandman can distinguish.
2. The keys or toungs being gathered from a young thriving tree when
they begin to fall (which is about the end of October, and the ensuing
month) are to be laid to dry, and then sowed any time betwixt that and
Christmas; but not altogether so deep as your somer masts: Thus they do
in Spain, from whence it were good to procure some of the keys from
their best trees: A very narrow seminary will be sufficient to store a
whole country: They will lie a full year in the ground before they
appear; therefore you must carefully fence them all that time, and have
patience: But if you would make a considerable wood of them at once,
dig, or plow a parcel of ground, as you would prepare it for corn, and
with the corn, especially oats, (or what other grain you think fittest)
sow also good store of keys, some crab-kernels, &c. amongst them: Take
off your crop of corn, or seed in its season, and the next year
following, it will be cover'd with young ashes, which will be fit either
to stand (which I prefer) or be transplanted for divers years after; and
these you will find to be far better than any you can gather out of the
woods (especially suckers, which are worth nothing) being removed at one
foot stature (the sooner the better); for an ash of two years thus taken
out of the nursery, shall outstrip one of ten, taken out of the hedge;
provided you defend them well from cattel, which are exceedingly
licorish after their tops: The reason of this hasty transplanting, is to
prevent their obstinate and deep rooting; _tantus amor terræ_
............. which makes them hard to be taken up when they grow older,
and that being removed, they take no great hold till the second year,
after which, they come away amain; yet I have planted them of five and
six inches diameter, which have thriven as well as the smaller wands.
You may accelerate their springing by laying the keys in sand, and some
moist fine earth s. s. s. but lay them not too thick, or double, and in
a cover'd, though airy place for a winter, before you sow them; and the
second year they will come away mainly; so you weed, trim and cleanse
them. Cut not his head at all (which being young, is pithy) nor, by any
means the fibrous part of the roots; only that down-right, or taproot
(which gives our husbandmen so much trouble in drawing) is to be totally
abated: But this work ought to be in the increase of October, or
November, and not in the Spring. We are (as I told you) willing to spare
his head rather than the side branches (which whilst young, may be cut
close) because being yet young, it is but of a spungy substance; but
being once well fixed, you may cut him as close to the earth as you
please; it will cause him to shoot prodigiously, so as in a few years to
be fit for pike-staves; whereas if you take him wild out of the forest,
you must of necessity strike off the head, which much impairs it.
Hedgerow ashes may the oftner be decapitated, and shew their heads again
sooner than other trees so us'd. Young ashes are sometimes in winter
frost-burnt, black as coals, and then to use the knife is seasonable,
though they do commonly recover of themselves slowly. In South-Spain,
(where, as we said, are the best) after the first dressing, they let
them grow till they are so big, as being cleft into four parts, each
part is sufficient to make a pike-staff: I am told there is a Flemish
ash planted by the Dutchmen in Lincolnshire, which in six years grows to
be worth twenty shillings the tree; but I am not assur'd whether it be
the ash or abeele; either of them were, upon this account, a worthy
encouragement, if at least the latter can be thought to bear that price,
which I much question: From these low cuttings come our ground-ashes, so
much sought after for arbours, espaliers, and other pole-works: They
will spring in abundance, and may be reduced to one for a standard-tree,
or for timber, if you design it; for thus hydra-like, a ground-cut-ash,
By havock, wounds and blows,
More lively and luxuriant grows.{89:1}
Ash will be propagated from a bough slipt off with some of the old wood,
a little before the bud swells, but with difficulty by layers. Such as
they reserve for spears in Spain, they keep shrip'd up close to the
stem, and plant them in close order, and moister places. These they cut
above the knot (for the least nodosity spoils all) in the decrease of
January, which were of the latest for us: It is reported that the ash
will not only receive its own kind, but graff, or be inoculated with the
pear and apple, but to what improvement I know not.
3. It is by no means convenient to plant ash in plow-lands; for the
roots will be obnoxious to the coulter; and the shade of the tree is
malignant both to corn and grass, when the head and branches over-drip
and emaciate 'em; but in hedge-rows and plumps, they will thrive
exceedingly, where they may be dispos'd at nine or ten foot distance,
and sometimes nearer: But in planting of a whole wood of several kinds
of trees for timber, every third set at least, would be an ash. The best
ash delights in the best land (which it will soon impoverish) yet grows
in any; so it be not over-stiff, wet, and approaching to the marshy,
unless it be first well drain'd: By the banks of sweet, and crystal
rivers and streams, I have observ'd them to thrive infinitely. One may
observe as manifest a difference in the timber of ashes, as of the oak;
much more than is found in any one kind of elm, _coeteris paribus_: For
so the ground-ash (like the oak) much excels a bough, or branch of the
same bulk, for strength and toughness; and in yet farther emulation of
the oak, it has been known to prove as good and lasting timber for
building, nay, preferr'd before it, where there has been plenty of oak;
vast difference there is also in the strength of ground, and quarter'd
ash: 'Tis likewise remarkable that the ash, like the cork-tree, grows
when the bark is as it were quite peel'd off, as has been observ'd in
several forests, where the deer have bared them as far as they could
climb: Some ash is curiously camleted and vein'd, I say, so differently
from other timber, that our skilful cabinet-makers prize it equal with
ebony, and give it the name of green ebony, which the customer pays well
for; and when our wood-men light upon it, they may make what money they
will of it: But to bring it to that curious lustre, so as 'tis hardly
to be distinguished from the most curiously diaper'd olive, they varnish
their work with the china-varnish, (hereafter described) which
infinitely excels linseed-oyl, that Cardan so commends, speaking of this
root. The truth is, the _bruscum_ and _molluscum_ to be frequently found
in this wood, is nothing inferior to that of maple, (of which hereafter)
being altogether as exquisitely diaper'd, and wav'd like the gamahes of
Achates; an eminent example of divers strange figures of fish, men and
beasts, Dr. Plott speaks of to be found in a dining-table made of an old
ash, standing in a gentleman's house somewhere in Oxfordshire: Upon
which is mention'd that of Jacobus Gaffarellus, in his book of
_Unheard-of Curiosities_; namely of a tree found in Holland, which being
cleft, had in the several slivers, the figures of a chalice, a priest's
albe, his stole, and several other pontifical vestments: Of this sort
was the elm growing at Middle-Aston in Oxfordshire, a block of which
wood being cleft, there came out a piece so exactly resembling a
shoulder of veal, that it was worthy to be reckon'd among the
curiosities of this nature.
4. The use of ash is (next to that of the oak it self) one of the most
universal: It serves the soldier ............ & _Fraxinus utilis
hastis_, and heretofore the scholar, who made use of the inner bark to
write on, before the invention of paper, &c. The carpenter,
wheel-wright, cart-wright, for ploughs, axle-trees, wheel-rings,
harrows, bulls, oares, the best blocks for pullies and sheffs, as seamen
name them; for drying herrings, no wood like it, and the bark for the
tanning of nets; and, like the elm, for the same property (of not being
so apt to split and scale) excellent for tenons and mortaises: Also for
the cooper, turner, and thatcher: Nothing like it for our garden
palisade-hedges, hop-yards, poles, and spars, handles, stocks for tools,
spade-trees, &c. In sum, the husbandman cannot be without the ash for
his carts, ladders, and other tackling, from the pike to the plow,
spear, and bow; for of ash were they formerly made, and therefore
reckon'd amongst those woods, which after long tension, has a natural
spring, and recovers its position; so as in peace and war it is a wood
in highest request: In short, so useful and profitable is this tree,
(next to the oak) that every prudent lord of a mannor, should employ one
acre of ground, with ash or acorns, to every 20 acres of other land;
since in as many years, it would be more worth than the land it self.
There is extracted an oyl from the ash, by the process on other woods,
which is excellent to recover the hearing, some drops of it being
distill'd warm into the ears; and for the _caries_ or rot of the bones,
tooth-ach, pains in the kidneys, and spleen, the anointing therewith is
most soveraign. Some have us'd the saw-dust of this wood instead of
_guiacum_, with success. The chymists exceedingly commend the seed of
ash to be an admirable remedy for the stone: But (whether by the power
of magick or nature, I determine not) I have heard it affirm'd with
great confidence, and upon experience, that the rupture to which many
children are obnoxious, is healed, by passing the infant thro' a wide
cleft made in the hole or stem of a growing ash-tree, thro' which the
child is to be made pass; and then carried a second time round the ash,
caused to repass the same aperture again, that the cleft of the tree
suffer'd to close and coalesce, as it will, the rupture of the child,
being carefully bound up, will not only abate, but be perfectly cur'd.
The _manna_ of Calabria is found to exsude out of the leaves and boughs
of this tree, during the hot summer-months. Lastly, the white and rotten
dotard part composes a ground for our gallants sweet-powder, and the
trunchions make the third sort of the most durable coal, and is (of all
other) the sweetest of our forest-fuelling, and the fittest for ladies
chambers, it will burn even whilst it is green, and may be reckoned
amongst the +akapna xyla+. To conclude, the very dead leaves afford
(like those of the elm) relief to our cattle in winter; and there is a
dwarf-sort in France, (if in truth it be not, as I suspect, our
witchen-tree) whose berries feed the poor people in scarce years; but it
bears no keys, like to ours, which being pickled tender, afford a
delicate salading. But the shade of the ash is not to be endur'd,
because the leaves produce a noxious insect; and for displaying
themselves so very late, and falling very early, not to be planted for
umbrage or ornament; especially near the garden, since (besides their
predatious roots) the leaves dropping with so long a stalk, are drawn by
clusters into the worm-holes, which foul the allies with their keys, and
suddenly infect the ground. Note, that the season for felling of this
tree must be when the sap is fully at rest; for if you cut it down too
early, or over-late in the year, it will be so obnoxious to the worm, as
greatly to prejudice the timber; therefore to be sure, fell not till the
three mid-winter months, beginning about November: But in lopping of
pollards, (as of soft woods) Mr. Cook advises it should be towards the
Spring, and that you do not suffer the lops to grow too great: Also,
that so soon as a pollard comes to be considerably hollow at the head,
you suddenly cut it down, the body decaying more than the head is worth:
The same he pronounces of taller ashes, and where the wood-peckers make
holes (who constantly indicate their being faulty) to fell it in the
Winter. I am astonish'd at the universal confidence of some, that a
serpent will rather creep into the fire, than over a twig of ash; this
is an old imposture of{94:1} Pliny's, who either took it up upon trust,
or we mistake the tree. Other species, see _Ray Dendrolog._ t. III. lib.
XXX. p. 95. _De fraxino_, t. II. p. 1704.
FOOTNOTES:
{89:1}
Per damna, per cædes, ab ipso
Ducit opes animúmque ferro.
_Hor._
{94:1} V. _Churasium_, &c. _de viperis_.
CHAPTER VIII.
_Of the Chesnut._
1. The next is the chesnut, [_castanea_] of which Pliny reckons many
kinds, especially about Tarentum and Naples; Janus Cornarius, upon that
of Aetius, (_verbo_ +Drys+) speaks of the Lopimi, as a nobler kind, such
as the _Euboicæ_, which the Italians call _maroni_, _quasi castaneæ
maris_; but we commend those of Portugal or Bayonne, chusing the
largest, brown, and most ponderous for fruit, such as Pliny calls
_coctivæ_, but the lesser ones to raise for timber. They are produc'd
best by sowing and setting; previous to which, let the nuts be first
spread to sweat, then cover them in sand; a month being past, plunge
them in water, reject the swimmers; being dry'd, for thirty days more,
sand them again, and to the water-ordeal as before. Being thus treated
till the beginning of Spring, or in November, set them as you would do
beans; and as some practise it, drench'd for a night or more, in new
milk; but without half this preparation, they need only be put into the
holes with the point upmost, as you plant tulips; Pliny will tell you
they come not up, unless four or five be pil'd together in a hole; but
that is false, if they be good, as you may presume all those to be which
pass this examination; nor will any of them fail: But being come up,
they thrive best unremoved, making a great stand for at least two years
upon every transplanting; yet if needs you must alter their station, let
it be done about November, and that into a light friable ground, or
moist gravel, however they will grow even in clay, sand, and all mixed
soils, upon exposed and bleak places, and the pendent declivities of
hills to the north, in dry airy places, and sometimes (tho' not so well)
near marshes and waters; but they affect no other compost, save what
their own leaves afford them, and are more patient of cold than heat: As
for their sowing in the nursery, treat them as you are taught in the
wall-nut.
2. If you design to set them in Winter, or Autumn, I counsel you to
interr them within their husks, which being every way arm'd, are a good
protection against the mouse, and a providential integument. Pliny l.
15. c. 23. from this natural guard, concludes them to be excellent food,
and doubtless Cæsar thought so, when he transported them from Sardis
first into Italy, whence they were propagated into France, and thence
among us; another encouragement to make such experiments out of foreign
countries. Some sow them confusedly in the furrow like the acorn, and
govern them as the oak; but then would the ground be broken up 'twixt
November and February; and when they spring, be clensed, and thinn'd two
foot asunder, after two years growth: Likewise may copses of chesnuts be
wonderfully increased and thickned, by laying the tender and young
branches; but such as spring from the nuts and marrons, are best of all,
and will thrive exceedingly, if (being let stand without removing) the
ground be stirr'd, and loosened about their roots, for two or three of
the first years, and the superfluous wood prun'd away; and indeed for
good trees, they should be shrip'd up after the first year's removal;
they also shoot into gallant poles from a felled stem: Thus will you
have a copse ready for a felling, within eight years, which (besides
many other uses) will yield you incomparable poles for any work of the
garden, vineyard or hopyard, till the next cutting: And if the tree like
the ground, will in ten or twelve years grow to a kind of timber, and
bear plentiful fruit.
3. I have seen many chesnut-trees transplanted as big as my arm, their
heads cut off at five and six foot height; but they came on at leisure:
In such plantations, and all others for avenues, you may set them from
thirty to ten foot distance, though they will grow much nearer, and
shoot into poles, if (being tender) you cultivate them like the ash, the
nature of whose shade it resembles, since nothing affects much to grow
under it: Some husbands tell me, that the young chesnut-trees should not
be pruned or touched with any knife or edge-tool, for the first three or
four years, but rather cropp'd or broken off, which I leave to farther
experience; however, many forbear to top them, when they transplant.
4. The chesnut being graffed in the wallnut, oak, or beech, (I have
been told) will come exceeding fair, and produce incomparable fruit; for
the wallnut, and chesnut in each other, it is probable; but I have not
as yet made a full attempt; they also speak of inoculating cherries in
the chesnut-stock for a later fruit. In the mean time, I wish we did
more universally propagate the horse-chesnut, which being easily
increas'd from layers, grows into a good standard, and bears a most
glorious flower, even in our cold country: This tree (so call'd, for the
cure of horses broken-winded, and other cattel of coughs) is now all the
mode for the avenues to their countrey palaces in France, as appears by
the late Superintendent's plantation at Vaux. It was first brought from
Constantinople to Vienna, thence into Italy, and so France; but to us
from the Levant more immediately, and flourishes so well, and grows so
goodly a tree in competent time, that by this alone, we might have ample
encouragement to denizen other strangers amongst us. One inconvenience
to which this beautiful tree is obnoxious, is that it does not well
resist impetuous and stormy winds, without damage.
5. The chesnut is (next the oak) one of the most sought after by the
carpenter and joyner: It hath formerly built a good part of our ancient
houses in the city of London, as does yet appear. I had once a very
large barn near the city, fram'd intirely of this timber: And certainly
they grew not far off; probably in some woods near the town: For in that
description of London, written by Fitz-Stephens, in the reign of Hen.
II. he speaks of a very noble and large forest which grew on the Boreal
part of it; _proxime_ (says he) _patet foresta ingens, saltus nemorosi
ferarum, latebræ cervorum, damarum, aprorum, & taurorum silvestrium,
&c._ A very goodly thing it seems, and as well stor'd with all sorts of
good timber, as with venison and all kind of chase; and yet some will
not allow it a free-born of this island; but of that I make little
doubt. The chesnut affords the best stakes and poles for palisades,
pedament for vine-props and hops, as I said before: Also for mill-timber
and water-works, or when it may lie buried; but if water touch the roots
of the growing trees, it spoils both fruit and timber: 'Tis likewise
observed, that this tree is so prevalent against cold, that where they
stand, they defend other plantations from the injuries of the severest
frosts: I am sure being planted in hedge-rows, & _circa agrorum
itinera_, or for avenues to our country-houses, they are a magnificent
and royal ornament. This timber also does well (if kept dry) for
columns, tables, chests, chairs, stools, bedsteads; for tubs, and
wine-casks, which it preserves with the least tincture of the wood of
any whatsoever: If the timber be dipp'd in scalding oyl, and well
pitch'd, it becomes extreamly durable; but otherwise I cannot celebrate
the tree for its sincerity, it being found that (contrary to the oak) it
will make a fair shew outwardly, when 'tis all decay'd, and rotten
within; but this is in some sort recompenc'd, if it be true, that the
beams made of chesnut-tree have this property, that being somewhat
brittle, they give warning, and premonish the danger by a certain
crackling which it makes; so as 'tis said to have frighted those out of
the Baths at Antandro, whose roof was laid with this material; but which
Pliny says, was of hazle, very unlike it. Formerly they made
consultatory staves of this tree; and the variegated rods which Jacob
peel'd to lay in the troughs, and impress a fancy in his
father-in-law's conceiving ewes, were of this material. The coals are
excellent for the smith, being soon kindled, and as soon extinguisht;
but the ashes of chesnut-wood are not convenient to make a lee with,
because it is observ'd to stain the linnen. As for the fruit, 'tis
better to beat it down from the tree, some little time before they fall
off themselves; thus they will the better keep, or else you must
smoke-dry them. But we give that fruit to our swine in England, which is
amongst the delicacies of princes in other countries; and being of the
larger nut, is a lusty and masculine food for rusticks at all times; and
of better nourishment for husbandmen than coal, and rusty bacon; yea, or
beans to boot, instead of which, they boil them in Italy with their
bacon; and in Virgil's time, they eat them with milk and cheese. The
best tables in France and Italy make them a service, eating them with
salt, in wine, or juice of lemmon and sugar; being first roasted in
embers on the chaplet; and doubtless we might propagate their use
amongst our common people, (as of old the +Balanophagoi+) being a food
so cheap, and so lasting. In Italy they also boil them in wine, and then
smoke them a little; these they call _anseri_ or geese, I know not why:
Those of Piemont add fennel, cinnamon and nutmeg to their wine, if in
water, mollify them with the vapour only; but first they peel them.
Others macerate them in rose-water. The bread of the flower is exceeding
nutritive; 'tis a robust food, and makes women well complexion'd, as I
have read in a good author: They also make fritters of chesnut-flower,
which they wet with rose-water, and sprinkle with grated _parmegiano_,
and so fry them in fresh butter, a delicate: How we here use them in
stew'd-meats, and beatille-pies, our French-cooks teach us; and this is
in truth the very best use of their fruit, and very commendable; for it
is found that the eating of them raw, or in bread (as they do much about
Limosin) is apt to swell the belly, though without any other
inconvenience that I can learn, and yet some condemn them as dangerous
for such as are subject to the gravel in the kidneys, and however cook'd
and prepar'd, flatulent, offensive to the head and stomach, and those
who are subject to the cholick. The best way to preserve them, is to
keep them in earthen vessels in a cold place; some lay them in a
smoke-loft, others in dry barly-straw, others in sand, &c. The leaves of
the chesnut-tree make very wholsom mattresses to lie on, and they are
good littier for cattel: But those leafy-beds, for the crackling noise
they make when one turns upon them, the French call _licts de
Parliament_: Lastly, the flower of chesnuts made into an electuary, and
eaten with hony fasting, is an approved remedy against spitting blood,
and the cough; and a decoction of the rind of the tree, tinctures hair
of a golden colour, esteem'd a beauty in some countries: Other species,
v. Ray, _Dendrolog._ T. III, &c.
CHAPTER IX.
_Of the Wallnut._
1. _Juglans, quasi Jovis glans_, the{101:1} wall or welch-nut (though no
where growing of it self, some say, in Europe) is of several sorts;
Monsieur Rencaume (of the French Academy) reckons nine; the soft-shell
and the hard, the whiter and the blacker grain: This black bears the
worst nut, but the timber much to be preferred, and we might propagate
more of them if we were careful to procure them out of Virginia, where
they abound and bear a squarer nut, of all other the most beautiful, and
best worth planting; indeed had we store of these, we should soon
despise the rest; yet those of Grenoble come in the next place, and are
much priz'd by our cabinet-makers: In all events, be sure to plant from
young and thriving trees, bearing full and plump kernels. It is said
that the walnut-kernel wrap'd in its own leaf, being carefully taken out
of its shell, brings a nut without shell, but this is a trifle; the best
way to elevate them, is to set them as you do the chesnut, being planted
of the nut, or set at the distance you would have him stand; for which
they may be prepar'd by beating them off the tree (as was prescribed of
the chesnut) some days before they quit the branches of themselves, and
kept in their husks, or without them, till Spring, or by bedding them
(being dry) in sand, or good earth, till March or earlier, from the time
they fell, or were beaten off the tree: Or if before, they be set with
husk and all upon them; for the extream bitterness thereof is most
exitial and deadly to worms; or it were good to strew some furzes
(broken or chopp'd small) under the ground amongst them, to preserve
them from mice and rats, when their shells begin to wax tender;
especially if, as some, you supple them a little in warm cows milk; but
being treated as before, you will find them already sprouted, and have
need only to be planted where they are to abide; because (as we said
long since) they are most impatient of transplanting: But if there be an
absolute necessity of removing, let your tree never be above four years
old, and then by no means touch the head with your knife, nor cut away
so much as the very top-root, being so old, if you can well dispose of
it, since being of a pithy and hollow substance, the least diminution,
or bruise, will greatly endanger the killing: But see here what we have
said of the chesnut. I have been told, that the very tops, and palish
buds of this tree, when it first sprouts, though as late as April, will
take hold of the ground, and grow to an incredible improvement; but
first they steep them in milk and saffron; but this attempt did not
succeed with us, yet it will be propagated by a branch slipp'd off with
some of the old wood, and set in February: An industrious and very
experienc'd husbandman told me, that if they be transplanted as big as
ones middle, it may be done safer than when younger; I do only report
it: What they hint of putting a tile-shard under the nuts when first
set, to divaricate and spread the roots (which are otherwise apt to
penetrate very deep) I like well enough; 'tis certain they will receive
their own cyons being graffed, and that it does improve their fruit.
The best compost is the strewing of ashes at the foot of the trees, the
salt whereof being washed into the earth, is the best dressing, whilst
the juice of the fallen leaves, though it kill the worm, is noxious to
the root. This tree does not refuse to thrive even among others, and in
great woods, provided you shrip up the collateral arms.
2. The walnut delights in a dry, sound and rich land; especially if it
incline to a feeding chalk, or marle; and where it may be protected from
the cold (though it affect cold rather than extream heat) as in great
pits, valleys and high-way sides; also in stony-grounds, if loamy, and
on hills, especially chalky; likewise in corn-fields: Thus Burgundy
abounds with them, where they stand in the midst of goodly wheat-lands,
at sixty, and an hundred foot distance; and it is so far from hurting
the crop, that they look on them as a great preserver, by keeping the
grounds warm; nor do the roots hinder the plow. Whenever they fell a
tree (which is only the old and decayed) they always plant a young one
near him; and in several places twixt Hanaw and Francfort in Germany, no
young farmer whatsoever is permitted to marry a wife, till he bring
proof that he hath planted, and is a father of such a stated number of
walnut-trees, as the law is inviolably observed to this day, for the
extraordinary benefit which this tree affords the inhabitants: And in
truth, were this timber in greater plenty amongst us, we should have far
better utensils of all sorts for our houses, as chairs, stools,
bedsteads, tables, wainscot, cabinets, &c. instead of the more vulgar
beech, subject to the worm, weak, and unsightly; but which to
counterfeit, and deceive the unwary, they wash over with a decoction
made of the green-husks of walnuts, &c. I say, had we store of this
material, especially of the Virginian, we should find an incredible
improvement in the more stable furniture of our houses, as in the first
frugal and better days of Rome, when
Tables made here at home, those times beheld,
Of our own wood, for that same purpose fell'd,
Old walnut blown down, when the wind set east.{104:1}
Sir R. Stapylton.
For if it had been cut in that season, it would not have prov'd so
sound, as we shew in our chapter of felling. It is certain, that the
_mensæ nucinæ_, were once in price even before the _citrin_, as Strabo
notes; and nothing can be more beautiful than some planks and works
which I have beheld of it, especially that which comes from Grenoble, of
all other the most beautiful and esteemed.
3. They render most graceful avenues to our countrey dwellings, and do
excellently near hedge-rows; but had need be planted, at forty or fifty
foot interval, for they affect to spread both their roots and branches.
The _Bergstras_ (which extends from Heidelberg to Darmstadt) is all
planted with walnuts; for so by another ancient law, the borderers were
obliged to nurse up, and take care of them; and that chiefly, for their
ornament and shade; so as a man may ride for many miles about that
countrey under a continued arbour, or close-walk; the traveller both
refreshed with the fruit and the shade, which some have causelesly
defam'd for its ill effects on the head, for which the fruit is a
specifique and a notable signature; although I deny not, but the scent
of the fallen leaves, when they begin to be damp'd with lying, may emit
somewhat a heady steam, which to some has prov'd noxious; but not whilst
they were fresh, and lively upon the trees. How would such publick
plantations improve the glory and wealth of a nation! But where shall we
find the spirits among our countreymen? Yes, I will adventure to
instance in those plantations of Sir Richard Stidolph, upon the downs
near Lether-head in Surrey; Sir Robert Clayton at Morden near Godstone
(once belonging to Sir John Evelyn) and so about Cassaulton, where many
thousands of these trees do celebrate the industry of the owners, and
will certainly reward it with infinite improvement, as I am assured they
do in part already, and that very considerably; besides the ornament
which they afford to those pleasant tracts, for some miles in
circumference. There was lately (and for ought I know is yet) an avenue
of four leagues in length, and 50 paces breadth, planted with young
oaklings, as strait as a line, from the city of Utrecht to Amersfort,
affording a most goodly prospect; which minds me of what Sorbiere tells
in a sceptical discourse to Monsieur de Martel, speaking of the
readiness of the people in Holland to furnish and maintain whatsoever
may conduce to the publick ornament, as well as convenience; that their
plantations of these and the like trees, even in their very roads and
common highways, are better preserv'd and entertain'd (as I my self have
likewise been often an eye-witness) than those about the houses and
gardens of pleasure belonging to the nobles and gentry of most other
countries: And in effect it is a most ravishing object, to behold their
amenities in this particular: With us, says he (speaking of France) they
make a jest at such political ordinances, by ruining these publick and
useful ornaments, if haply some more prudent magistrate do at any time
introduce them. Thus in the reign of Henry the Fourth, (during the
superintendency of Monsieur de Sulli) there was a resolution of adorning
all the highways of France with elms, &c. but the rude and mischievous
peasants did so hack, steal and destroy what they had begun, that they
were forced to desist from the thorough prosecution of the design; so as
there is nothing more expos'd, wild, and less pleasant than the common
roads of France for want of shade, and the decent limits which these
sweet and divertissant plantations would have afforded. Not to omit that
political use, as my Lord Bacon hints it, where he speaks of the statues
and monuments of brave men, and such as had well deserv'd of the
publick, erected by the Romans even in their highways; since doubtless,
such noble and agreeable objects would exceedingly divert, entertain,
and take off the minds and discourses of melancholy people, and pensive
travellers, who having nothing but the dull and enclosed ways to cast
their eyes on, are but ill conversation to themselves, and others, and
instead of celebrating, censure their superiors. It is by a curious
person, and industrious friend of mine, observ'd, that the sap of this
tree rises and descends with the sun's diurnal course (which it visibly
slackens in the night) and more plentifully at the root on the south
side, though those roots cut on the north were larger, and less distant
from the body of the tree; and not only distill'd from the ends, which
were next the stem, but from those which were cut off and separated,
which was never observ'd to happen in the birch, or other sap-yielding
trees. {107:1} Mr. Oldenburg speaks of one of the present kings in
Europe, who drinks much of the juice of this tree, and finds great
benefit thereby.
4. What universal use the French make of the timber of this sole tree,
for domestic affairs, may be seen in every room both of poor and rich:
It is of singular account with the joyner, for the best grain'd, and
colour'd wainscot; with the gun-smith for stocks, for coach-wheels
excellent, and the bodies of coaches, (they make hoops and bows with it
in New-England, for want of yew:) The drum-maker uses it for rimbs, the
cabinet-maker for inlayings, especially the firm and close timber about
the roots, which is admirable for fleck'd and chambletted works, some
wood especially, as that which we have from Bologne, New-England and
Virginia, (where they are of three or four sorts, differing in their
leaves, fruit and stature) very black of colour, and so admirably
streaked, as to represent natural flowers, landskips, and other fancies:
To render this the better-coloured, joyners put the boards into an oven
after the batch is forth, or lay them in a warm stable, and when they
work it, polish it over with its own oyl very hot, which makes it look
black and sleek, and the older it is, the more esteemable; but then it
should not be put in work till thoroughly seasoned, because it will
shrink beyond expectation. It is only not good to confide in it much for
beams or joysts, because of its brittleness, of which yet, it has been
observ'd to give timely notice, as also the chesnut, by the crackling
before it breaks. Besides the uses of the wood, the fruit with husk and
all, when tender and very young, is for preserves (condited in separate
decoctions, by our curious ladies) also for food and oyl; of
extraordinary use with the painter, in whites, and other delicate
colours, also for gold-size and varnish; and with this they polish
walking-staves, and other works which are wrought in with burning: For
food they fry with it in some places, and eat it instead of butter, in
Berry, where they have little or none good; and therefore they plant
infinite numbers of these trees all over that countrey: The use of it to
burn in lamps, is common there. The younger timber is held to make the
better-coloured work (and so the oak) but the older more firm and close,
is finer chambleted for ornament; and the very husks and leaves being
macerated in warm water, and that liquor poured on the carpet of walks,
and bowling-greens, does infallibly kill the worms, without endangering
the grass: Not to mention the dye which is made of this lixive, to
colour wooll, woods, and hair, as of old they us'd it. The water of the
husks is sovereign against all pestilential infections, and that of the
leaves to mundifie and heal inveterate ulcers. That which is produced of
the thick-shell, becomes best timber, that of the thinner, better fruit.
Columella has sundry excellent rules how to ascertain and accelerate the
growth of this tree, and to improve its qualities; and I am assur'd,
that having been graffed on the ash (though others say no incision
improves it) it thrives exceedingly, becomes a handsome tree, and what
is most estimable, bears its fruit within four years, all which I
recommend to the farther industrious. The green husk dry'd, or the first
peeping red buds and leaves reduced to powder, serves instead of
pepper, to condite meats and sauces. 'Tis thought better to cudgel off
the fruit, when dropping ripe, than to gather it by hand; and that the
husk may open, lay them by in a dry room, sometimes turning them with a
broom, but without washing, for fear of mouldiness. In Italy they arm
the tops of long poles with nails and iron for the purpose, and believe
the beating improves the tree; which I no more believe, than I do that
discipline would reform a perverse shrew: Those nuts which come not
easily out of their husks, should be laid to mellow in heaps, and the
rest expos'd in the sun, till the shells dry, else they will be apt to
perish the kernel: Some again preserve them in their own leaves, or in a
chest made of walnut-tree wood; others in sand, especially if you will
preserve them for a seminary; do this in October, and keep them a little
moist, that they may spear, to be set early in February: Thus after two
years they may be removed at a yard asunder, cutting the top-root, and
side branches, but sparing the head; and being two yards high, bud, or
remove them immediately. Old nuts are not wholsome till macerated in
warm, and almost boiling water; but if you lay them in a leaden pot, and
bury them in the earth, so as no vermin can attaque them, they will keep
marvellously plump the whole year about, and may easily be blanched: In
Spain they use to strew the gratings of old and hard nuts (first peel'd)
into their tarts and other meats. For the oyl, one bushel of nuts will
yield fifteen pounds of peel'd and clear kernels, and that half as much
oyl, which the sooner 'tis drawn, is the more in quantity, though the
dryer the nut, the better in quality; the lees, or marc of the
pressing, is excellent to fatten hogs with. After the nuts are beaten
down, the leaves would be sweep'd into heaps, and carried away, because
their extreme bitterness impairs the ground, and as I am assured,
prejudices the trees: The green husks boiled, make a good colour to dye
a dark yellow, without any mixture; and the distillation of its leaves
with honey and urine, makes hair spring on baldheads: Besides its use in
the famous Salernitan antidote; if the kernel a little masticated, be
applied to the biting of a suspected mad-dog, and when it has lain three
hours, be cast to poultrey, they will die if they eat of it. In Italy,
when a countreyman finds any pain in his side, he drinks a pint of the
fresh oyl of this nut, and finds immediate ease: And more famous is the
wonderful cure, which the _fungus_ substance separating the lobs of the
kernel, pulveriz'd and drank in wine, in a moderate quantity, did
recover the English army in Ireland of a dyssentary, when no other
remedy could prevail: The same also in pleurisies, &c. The juice of the
outward rind of the nut, makes an excellent gargle for a sore-throat:
The kernel being rubb'd upon any crack or chink of a leaking or crazy
vessel, stops it better than either clay, pitch, or wax: In France they
eat them blanch'd and fresh, with wine and salt, having first cut them
out of the shells before they are hardned, with a short broad
brass-knife, because iron rusts, and these they call _cernois_, from
their manner of scooping them out. Lastly, of the _fungus_ emerging from
the trunk of an old tree, (and indeed some others) is made touch-wood,
artificially prepar'd in a _lixivium_ or lye, dried, and beaten flat,
and then boil'd with salt-peter, to render it apter to kindle. The tree
wounded in the Spring, yields a liquor, which makes an artificial wine.
See Birch, cap. XVII. Of other species, see Mr. Ray's _Dendrolog._ Tom.
III. p. 5, 6.
FOOTNOTES:
{101:1} See Servius introduc'd discoursing of this and other nuts,
_Macrob. Saturn._ l. 3. c. 18.
{104:1}
Illa domi natas, nostraque ex arbore mensas
Tempora viderunt: hos lignum stabat in usus,
Annosam si fortè nucem dejecerat Eurus.
_Juv._ l. 4. Sat. 11.
{107:1} _Philosoph. Transact._ vol. III, num. xl, p. 802.
CHAPTER X.
_Of the Service, and black cherry-tree._
1. _Sorbus_, the service-tree (of which there are four sorts) is rais'd
of the chequers, or berries, which being ripe (that is) rotten, about
September (and the pulp rub'd off clean from the stones, in dry sand,
and so kept till after Christmas) may be sown like beech-mast, educated
in the nursery like the chesnut: It is reported that the sower never
sees the fruit of his labour; either for that it bears only being very
old, or that men are commonly so, before they think of planting trees:
But this is an egregious mistake; for these come very soon to be trees,
and being planted young, thrive exceedingly; I have likewise planted
them as big as my arm successfully: The best way is therefore to
propagate them of suckers, of which they put forth enough, as also of
sets, and may be budded with great improvement: They delight in
reasonable good stiff ground, rather inclining to cold, than over-hot;
for in places which are too dry, they never bear kindly. The
_torminalis_ (so called for its effects against gripings of the bowels)
is the kind most frequent with us; for those of the narrower, and less
indented leaf, are not so common in England as in France, bearing a sort
of berry of the pear-shape, and is there call'd the _cormier_; this tree
may be graffed either on it self, or on the white-thorn, and quince. To
this we might add, the _mespilus_ or medlar, being an hard wood, and of
which I have seen very beautiful walking-staves. But there is yet a rare
kind of service-tree, frequent in Germany, which we find not in our
woods, and they speak of another sort, which bears poyson-berries.
2. The timber of the sort is useful for the joyner, and of which I have
seen a room curiously wainscotted: Also for the engraver of wood-cuts,
bows, pullys, skrews, mill-spindles and other; goads to drive oxen with,
&c. pistol and gun-stocks, and for most that the wild-pear-tree, serves;
and being of a very delicate grain for the turner, and divers
curiosities, and looks beautifully, and is almost everlasting, being
rubb'd over with oyl of linseed, well boil'd, it may be made to
counterfeit ebony, or almost any Indian wood, colour'd according to art:
Also it is taken to build with, yielding beams of considerable
substance: The shade is beautiful for walks, and the fruit not
unpleasant, especially the second kind, of which with new wine and
honey, they make a _conditum_ of admirable effect to corroborate the
stomach; and the fruit alone is good in dysentery's and lasks. The water
distill'd from the stalks of the flowers and leaves in M. B. and twice
rectified upon fresh matter, is incomparable for consumptive and tabid
bodies, taking an ounce daily at several times: Likewise it cures the
green-sickness in virgins, and is prevalent in all fluxes; distill'd
warm into the ears it abates the pain: The wood or bark contus'd, and
applied to any green wound, heals it; and the powder thereof drank in
oyl olive, consolidates inward ruptures: Lastly, the salt of the wood
taken in decoction of _althæa_ to three grains, is an incomparable
remedy to break, and expel gravel. The service gives the husbandman an
early presage of the approaching Spring, by extending his adorned buds
for a peculiar entertainment, and dares peep out in the severest
Winters.
3. That I rank this amongst the forest berry-bearing trees, (frequent in
the hedges, and growing wild in Herefordshire, and many places; for I
speak not here of our orchard-cherries, said to have been brought into
Kent out of Flanders by Hen. VIII.) is chiefly from the suffrage of that
industrious planter Mr. Cooke, from whose ingenuity and experience (as
well as out of gratitude for his frequent mentioning of me in his
elaborate and useful work) I acknowledge to have benefited my self, and
this edition; though I have also given no obscure tast of this pretty
tree in Chap. XX.
It is rais'd of the stones of black-cherries very ripe (as they are in
July) endeavouring to procure such as are full, and large; whereof some
he tells us, are little inferior to the black Orleance, without
graffing, and from the very genius of the ground. These gather'd, the
fleshy part is to be taken off, by rolling them under a plank in dry
sand, and when the humidity is off (as it will be in 3 or 4 days)
reserve them in sand again a little moist and hous'd, 'till the
beginning of February, when you may sow them in a light gravelly mould,
keeping them clean for two years, and thence planting them into your
nurseries, to raise other kinds upon, or for woods, copses and
hedge-rows, and for walks and avenues, which if of a dryish soil, mixt
with loam, though the bottom be gravel, will thrive into stately trees,
beautified with blossoms of a surprizing whiteness, greatly relieving
the sedulous bees, and attracting birds.
If you sow them in beds immediately after they are excarnated, they
will appear the following Spring, and then at two years shoot, be fit to
plant out where you please; otherwise, being kept too long e'er you sow
them, they will sleep two Winters: And this is a rule, which he
prescribes for all sorts of stone-fruit.
You may almost at any time remove young cherry-trees, abating the heads
to a single shoot.
He recommends it for the copse, as producing a strong shoot, and as apt
to put forth from the roots, as the elm; especially, if you fell lusty
trees: In light ground it will increase to a goodly tall tree, of which
he mentions one, that held above 85 foot in height: I have my self
planted of them, and imparted to my friends, which have thriv'd
exceedingly; but till now did not insert it among the foresters: The
vertues of the fruit of this cherry-tree against the epilepsy, palsy,
and convulsions, &c. are in the spirits and distill'd waters. Concerning
its other uses, see the chapter and section above-mentioned, to which
add _pomona_, Chap. 8. annexed with this treatise. This tree affords
excellent stocks for the budding and graffing of other cherries on.
And here I might mention the bitter cherry of Canada, (tho' exceedingly
unlike to ours) which would yet be propagated for the incomparable
liquor it is said to yield, preferable to the best limonade, by an
incision of two inches deep in the stem, and sloping to the length of a
foot, without prejudice to the tree. What is said of it, and of the
maple, in the late discovery of the North-America, may be seen in the
late description of those countries. For other exotic species, v. Ray
_Dendrolog._ Tom. III. p. 45, 46.
CHAPTER XI.
_Of the Maple._
1. The maple [_acer minus_] (of which authors (see Salmasius upon
_Solinus_, c. 33.) reckon very many kinds) was of old held in equal
estimation almost with the citron; especially the _bruscum_, the
French-maple and the _pavonaceus_, peacocks-tail maple, which is that
sort so elegantly undulated, and crisped into variety of curles, as
emulates the famous _citria_. It were a most laudable attempt, if some
would enquire out, and try the planting of such sorts as are not
indigenes amongst us; such as is especially the German _Aier_, and that
of Virginia, not yet cultivated here, but an excellent tree: And if this
were extended to other timber, and exotic trees likewise, it would prove
of extraordinary benefit and ornament to the publick, and were worthy
even of the royal care. They are all produced of seeds contain'd in the
folliacles and keys, or birds-tongues (as they are call'd) like the ash,
(after a year's interrment) and like to it, affect a sound, and a dry
mould; growing both in woods and hedge-rows, especially in the latter;
which if rather hilly than low, affords the fairest timber. It is also
propagated by layers and suckers. By shredding up the boughs to a head,
I have caused it to shoot to a wonderful height in a little time; but if
you will lop it for the fire, let it be done in January; and indeed it
is observ'd to be of noxious influence to the subnascent plants of other
kinds, by reason of a clammy dew which it sheds upon them, and therefore
they would not be indulg'd in pollards, or spreading trees, but to
thicken under-woods and copses. The timber is far superior to beech for
all uses of the turner, who seeks it for dishes, cups, trays, trenchers,
&c. as the joyner for tables, inlayings, and for the delicateness of the
grain, when the knurs and nodosities are rarely diapred, which does much
advance its price: Our turners will work it so thin, that it is almost
transparent: Also for the lightness (under the name _Aier_) imploy'd
often by those who make musical instruments: Also that especially, which
grows in Friuli, Carniola, and Saltzburglandt: There is a larger sort,
which we call the sycomor.
2. But the description of this lesser maple, and the ancient value of
it, is worth the citing. _Acer operum elegantiâ, & subtilitate cedro
secundum; plura ejus genera: Album, quod praecipui candoris vocatur
Gallicum: In Transpadana Italia, transque Alpes nascens. Alterum genus,
crispo macularum discursu, qui cum excellentior fuit, à similitudine
caudæ pavonum nomen accepit._
'The maple, (says Pliny) for the elegancy and fineness of the wood,
is next to the very cedar it self. There are several kinds of it,
especially the white, which is wonderfully beautiful; this is
call'd the French-maple, and grows in that part of Italy, that is
on the other side of Po beyond the Alpes: The other has a curl'd
grain, so curiously maculated, that from a near resemblance, it was
usually call'd the Peacock's-tail, &c.'
He goes on to commend that of Istria, and that growing on the mountains
for the best: But in the next chapter; _Pulcherrimum vero est bruscum,
multoque excellentius etiamnum mollusculum, tuber utrumque arboris ejus.
Bruscum intortiùs crispum, molluscum simplicius sparsum; et si
magnitudinem mensarum caperet, haud dubiè præferretur cedro, nunc intra
pugillares, lectorumque silicios aut laminas, &c. è brusco fiunt mensæ
nigrescentes, &c._ Plin. _l._ 16. c. 15, 16.
'The _bruscum_, or Knur is wonderfully fair, but the _molluscum_ is
counted most precious; both of them knobs and swellings out of the
tree. The _bruscum_ is more intricately crisp'd; the _molluscum_
not so much; and had we trees large enough to saw into planks for
tables, 'twould be preferr'd before cedar, (or citron, for so some
copies read it) but now they use it only for small table-books, and
with its thin boards to wainscot bed-testers with, _&c._ The
_bruscum_ is of a blackish kind, with which they make tables.'
Thus far Pliny. And such spotted tables were the famous Tigrin, and
Pantherine curiosities of; not so call'd from being supported with
figures carved like those beasts, as some conceive, and was in use even
in our grand-fathers days, but from its natural spots and maculations,
_hem, quantis facultatibus æstimavere ligneas maculas!_ as Tertullian
crys out, _de Pallio_, c, 5. Such a table was that of Cicero's, which
cost him 10000 _Sesterces_; such another had Asinius Gallus. That of
King Juba was sold for 15000, and another which I read of, valu'd at
140000 H.S. which at about 3d. sterling, arrives to a pretty sum; and
yet that of the Mauritanian Ptoleme, was far richer, containing four
foot and an half diameter, three inches thick, which is reported to have
been sold for its weight in gold: Of that value they were, and so madly
luxurious the age, that when they at any time reproach'd their wives for
their wanton expensiveness in pearl and other rich trifles, they were
wont to retort, and turn the tables upon their husbands. The knot of the
timber was the most esteem'd, and is said to be much resembled by the
female cypress: We have now, I am almost persuaded, as beautiful planks
of some walnut-trees, near the root; and yew, ivy, rose-wood, ash,
thorn, and olive, I have seen incomparable pieces; but the great art was
in the seasoning, and politure; for which last, the rubbing with a man's
hand who came warm out of the bath, was accounted better than any cloth,
as Pliny reports. Some there be who contend, this citern was a part near
the root of the cedar, which, as they describe it, is very oriental and
odoriferous; but most of the learned favour the citron, and that it grew
not far from our Tangier, about the foot of Mount Atlas, whence haply
some industrious person might procure of it from the Moors; and I did
not forget to put his then Excellency my Lord H. Howard (since his Grace
the Duke of Norfolk) in mind of it; who I hoped might have opportunities
of satisfying our curiosity, that by comparing it with those elegant
woods, which both our own countries, and the Indies furnish, we might
pronounce something in the controversie: But his not going so far into
the countrey, and the disorder which happen'd at his being there, quite
frustrated this expectation: Here I think good to add, what honest
Palissy philosophises after his plain manner, about the reason of those
pretty undulations and chamfers, which we so frequently find in divers
woods, which he takes to be the descent, as well as ascent of moisture:
For what else (says he) becomes of that water which we often encounter
in the cavities, when many branches divaricate, and spread themselves at
the tops of great trees (especially pollards) unless (according to its
natural appetite) it sink into the very body of the stem through the
pores? For example, in the walnut, you shall find, when 'tis old, that
the wood is admirably figur'd, and, as it were, marbl'd, and therefore
much more esteem'd by the joyners, cabinet-makers, and _ouvrages de
marqueterie_, in-layers, &c. than the young, which is paler of colour,
and without any notable grain, as they call it. For the rain distilling
along the branches, when many of them break out into clusters from the
stem, sinks in, and is the cause of these marks; since we find it
exceedingly full of pores: Do but plane off a thin chip, or sliver from
one of these old trees, and interposing it 'twixt your eye and the
light, you shall observe it to be full of innumerable holes (much more
perspicuous and ample, by the application of a good{119:1} microscope.)
But above all, notable for these extravagant damaskings and characters,
is the maple; and 'tis notorious, that this tree is very full of
branches from the root to its very summit, by reason that it produces no
considerable fruit: These arms being frequently cut, the head is more
surcharged with them, which spreading like so many rays from a centre,
form that hollowness at the top of the stem whence they shoot, capable
of containing a good quantity of water every time it rains: This sinking
into the pores, as was before hinted, is compell'd to divert its course
as it passes through the body of the tree, where-ever it encounters the
knot of any of those branches which were cut off from the stem; because
their roots not only deeply penetrate towards the heart, but are
likewise of themselves very hard and impervious; and the frequent
obliquity of this course of the subsiding moisture, by reason of these
obstructions, is, as may be conceived, the cause of those curious
works, which we find remarkable in this, and other woods, whose branches
grow thick from the stem: But for these curious contextures, consult
rather the learned Dr. Grew. We have shewed how by culture, and
stripping up, it arrives to a goodly tree; and surely there were some of
them of large bulk, and noble shades, that Virgil should chuse it for
the Court of his Evander (one of his worthiest princes, in his best of
poems) sitting in his maple-throne; and when he brings Æneas into the
royal cottage, he makes him this memorable complement; greater, says
great Cowley, than ever was yet spoken at the Escurial, the Louvre, or
White-hall.
This humble roof, this rustique court, said he,
Receiv'd Alcides crown'd with victory:
Scorn not (great guest) the steps where he has trod,
But contemn wealth, and imitate a God.{120:1}
The savages in Canada, when the sap rises in the maple, by an incision
in the tree, extract the liquor; and having evaporated a reasonable
quantity thereof (as suppose 7 or 8 pound), there will remain one pound,
as sweet and perfect sugar, as that which is gotten out of the cane;
part of which sugar has been for many years constantly sent to Rouen in
Normandy, to be refin'd: There is also made of this sugar an excellent
syrup of maiden-hair and other capillary plants, prevalent against the
_scorbut_; though Mr. Ray thinks otherwise, by reason of the saccharine
substance remaining in the decoction: See _Synops. Stirp._ & Tom. III.
_Dendrolog._ de Acere. p. 93, 94.
FOOTNOTES:
{119:1} Not invented in Palissy's days.
{120:1}
........... Hæc (inquit) limina victor
Alcides............
CHAPTER XII.
_Of the Sycomor._
1. The sycomor, or wild fig-tree, (falsly so called) is, our _album_,
_acer majus_, or broad-leav'd _mas_, one of the maples, and is much more
in reputation for its shade than it deserves; for the honey-dew leaves,
which fall early (like those of the ash) turn to mucilage and noxious
insects, and putrifie with the first moisture of the season; so as they
contaminate and mar our walks; and are therefore by my consent, to be
banish'd from all curious gardens and avenues. 'Tis rais'd of the keys
in the husk (as soon as ripe) they come up the first Spring; also by
roots and layers, in ground moist, not over-wet or stiff, and to be
govern'd as other nursery plants.
2. There is in Germany a better sort of sycomor than ours, (nor are ours
_indiginæ_) wherewith they make saddle-trees, and divers other things of
use; our own is excellent for trenchers, cart, and plow-timber, being
light, tough, and not much inferior to ash it self; and if the trees be
very tall and handsome, are the more tolerable for distant walks
especially where other better trees prosper not so well, or where a
sudden shade is expected: Some commend them to thicken copp'ces,
especially in parks, as least apt to the spoil of deer, and that it is
good fire-wood. This tree being wounded, bleeds a great part of the
year; and the liquor emulating that of the birch, which for hapning to
few of the rest (that is, to bleed Winter and Summer) I therefore
mention: The sap is sweet and wholsome, and in a short time yields
sufficient quantity to brew with; so as with one bushel of malt, is made
as good ale as four bushels with ordinary water, upon Dr. Tongue's
experience, _Transact._ vol. IV. f. 917.
CHAPTER XIII.
_Of the Lime-Tree._
1. _Tilia_ the lime-tree, or [linden] is of two kinds; the male (which
some allow to be but a finer sort of elm) or maple rather, is harder,
fuller of knots, and of a redder colour; but producing neither flower,
nor seed, (so constantly and so mature with us) as does the female,
whose blossom is also very odoriferous, perfuming the air, the leaf
larger; the wood is likewise thicker, of small pith, and not obnoxious
to the worm; so as it seems Theophrastus _de Pl._ l. 3. c. 10. said
true, that though they were of both sexes, +diapherousi de tê morphê tê
holê+, &c. _yet they totally differ'd as to their form_. We send
commonly for this tree into Flanders and Holland, (which indeed grow not
so naturally wild with us) to our excessive cost, whiles our own woods
do in some places spontaneously produce them, and though of somewhat a
smaller leaf, yet altogether as good, apt to be civiliz'd, and made more
florid: From thence I have received many of their berries; so as it is a
shameful negligence, that we are no better provided of nurseries, of a
tree so choice, and universally acceptable: For so they may be rais'd
either of the seeds in October, or (with better success) by the suckers
and plants, which are treated after the same method, and in as great
abundance as the elm, like to which it should be cultivated. You may
know whether the seeds be prolific, by searching the husk; if biting, or
cutting it in sunder it be full and white, and not husky, as sometimes
we find the foreigners: Be sure to collect your seed in dry weather,
airing it in an open room, and reserving it in sand, (as has been
taught) till mid-February, when you may sow it in pretty strong, fresh
and loamy mould, kept shaded, and moist as the season requires, and
clear of weeds, and at the period of two years, plant them out, dress'd
and prun'd as discretion shall advise. But not only by the suckers and
layers, at the roots, but even by branches lopp'd from the head, may
this tree be propagated; and peeling off a little of the bark, at a
competent distance from the stem or arms, and covering it with loam
mingled with rich earth, they will shoot their fibers, and may be
seasonably separated: But to facilitate this and the like attempts, it
is advisable to apply a ligature above the place, when the sap is
ascending, or beneath it, when it (as they say vulgarly) descends. From
June to November you may lay them; the scrubs and less erect, do
excellently to thicken copp'ces, and will yield lusty shoots, and useful
fire-wood.
2. The lime-tree affects a rich feeding loamy soil; in such ground their
growth will be most for speed and spreading. They may be planted as big
as ones leg; their heads topp'd at about six or eight foot bole; thus it
will become (of all other) the most proper, and beautiful for walks, as
producing an upright body, smooth and even bark, ample leaf, sweet
blossom, the delight of bees, and a goodly shade at distance of
eighteen, or twenty five foot. They are also very patient of pruning;
but if it taper over much, some of the collateral boughs would be
spar'd, or cut off, to check the sap, which is best to be done about
Midsummer; and to make it grow upright, take off the prepondering
branches with discretion, and so you may correct any other tree, and
redress its obliquity.
The root in transplanting would not be much lopp'd; and this (says Mr.
Cook) is a good lesson for all young planted trees.
3. The Prince Elector did lately remove very great lime-trees out of one
of his forests, to a steep hill, exceedingly expos'd to the heat of the
sun, at Heidelberg; and that in the midst of summer: They grow behind
that strong tower on the south-west, and most torrid part of the
eminence; being of a dry, reddish barren earth; yet do they prosper
rarely well: But the heads were cut off, and the pits into which they
were transplanted, were (by the industry and direction of _Monsieur_ de
Son, a Frenchman, and admirable mechanician, who himself related it to
me) fill'd with a composition of earth and cow-dung, which was
exceedingly beaten, and so diluted with water, as it became almost a
liquid pap: It was in this, that he plunged the roots, covering the
surface with the turf: A singular example of removing so great trees at
such a season, and therefore by me taken notice of here expresly. Other
perfections of the tree (besides its unparallel'd beauty for walks) are
that it will grow in almost all grounds: That it lasts long; that it
soon heals its scars; that it affects uprightness; that it stoutly
resists a storm; that it seldom becomes hollow.
4. The timber of a well-grown lime is convenient for any use that the
willow is; but much to be preferr'd, as being both stronger, and yet
lighter; whence Virgil calls them _tilias leves_; and therefore fit for
yokes, and to be turn'd into boxes for the apothecaries; and Columella
commends _arculas tiliaceas_. And because of its colour, and easy
working, and that it is not subject to split, architects make with it
models for their designed buildings; and the carvers in wood, not only
for small figures, but large statues and intire histories, in bass, and
high relieve; witness (besides several more) the lapidation of St.
Stephen, with the structures and elevations about it: The trophies,
festoons, frutages, encarpa, and other sculptures in the frontoons,
freezes, capitals, pedestals, and other ornaments and decorations, (of
admirable invention and performance) to be seen about the choir of St.
Paul's and other churches; royal palaces, and noble houses in city and
countrey. All of them, the works and invention of our Lysippus, Mr.
Gibbons; comparable, and for ought appears, equal to any thing of the
antients; having had the honour (for so I account it) to be the first
who recommended this great artist to his Majesty, Charles the II. I
mention it on this occasion, with much satisfaction. With the twigs,
they made baskets and cradles, and of the smoother side of the bark,
tablets for writing; for the antient _Philyra_ is but our _Tilia_; of
which Munting affirms, he saw a book made of the inward bark, written
about 1000 years since. Such another was brought to the Count of St.
Amant, Governor of Arras, 1662, for which there was given 8000 ducats by
the Emperor, and that it contain'd a work of Cicero, _De Ordinanda
Republica, & De Inveniendis Orationum Exordiis_: A piece inestimable,
never publish'd; is now in the library at Vienna, after it had formerly
been the greatest rarity in that of the late Cardinal Mazarine: Other
papyraceous trees are mention'd by West-Indian travellers, especially in
Hispaniola, Java, &c. which not only exceed our largest paper for
breadth and length, and may be written on on both sides, but is
comparable to our best vellum. Bellonius says, that the Grecians made
bottles of the _tilia_, which they finely rozin'd within-side, so
likewise for pumps of ships, also lattices for windows: Shooemakers use
dressers of the plank to cut leather on, as not so hard as to turn the
edges of their knives; and even the coursest membrane, or slivers of the
tree growing 'twixt the bark and the main body, they now twist into
bass-ropes; besides, the truncheons make a far better coal for
gun-powder than that of alder it self; Scriblets for painters first
draughts are also made of its coals; and the extraordinary candor and
lightness, has dignify'd it above all the woods of our forest, in the
hands of the Right Honourable the White-Stave officers of His Majesty's
Imperial Court. Those royal plantations of these trees in the parks of
Hampton-court, and St. James's, will sufficiently instruct any man how
these (and indeed all other trees which stand single) are to be
govern'd, and defended from the injuries of beasts, and sometimes more
unreasonable creatures, till they are able to protect themselves. In
Holland (where the very high-ways are adorn'd with them) they frequently
clap three or four deal-boards (in manner of a close trunk) about them;
but it is not so well; because it keeps out the air, which should have
free access and intercourse to the bole, and by no means be excluded
from flowing freely about them, or indeed any other trees; provided
they are secur'd from cattel, and the violence of impetuous winds, &c.
as His Majesty's are, without those close coffins, in which the
Dutch-men seem rather to bury them alive: In the mean time, is there a
more ravishing or delightful object, than to behold some intire streets,
and whole towns planted with these trees, in even lines before their
doors, so as they seem like cities in a wood? this is extreamly fresh,
of admirable effect against the epilepsie, for which the delicately
scented blossoms are held prevalent, and skreen the houses both from
winds, sun, and dust; than which there can be nothing more desirable
where streets are much frequented. For thus
The stately Lime, smooth, gentle, streight and fair,
(With which no other Dryad may compare)
With verdant locks, and fragrant blossoms deckt,
Does a large, ev'n, odorate shade project.{127:1}
_Diræ_ and curses therefore on those inhuman and ambitious tyrants, who,
not contented with their own dominions, invade their peaceful neighbour,
and send their legions, without distinction, to destroy and level to the
ground such venerable and goodly plantations, and noble avenues,
irreparable marks of their barbarity.
The distance for walks (as we said) may in rich ground, be twenty five
foot, in more ordinary soil, eighteen or twenty. For a most prodigious
tree of this kind, see Chap. 39. sect. 10.
The berries reduc'd to powder, cure the dysentery and stop blood at the
nose: The distill'd-water is good against the epilepsy, apoplexy,
vertigo, trembling of the heart, gravel; Schroder commends a mucilage of
the bark for wounds, _repellens urinam, & menses ciens_, &c. And I am
told, the juice of the leaves fixes colours.
FOOTNOTES:
{127:1}
Stat philyra; haud omnes formosior altera surgit
Inter hamadryades; mollissima, candida, lævis,
Et viridante comâ, & beneolenti flore superba,
Spargit odoratam latè, atque æqualiter umbram.
_Couleii_, l. 6, Pl.
CHAPTER XIV.
_Of the Poplar, Aspen, and Abele._
1. _Populus._ I begin this second class (according to our former
distribution) with the poplar, of which there are several kinds; white,
black, &c. (which in Candy 'tis reported bears seed) besides the aspen.
The white (famous heretofore for yielding its _umbram hospitalem_) is
the most ordinary with us, to be rais'd in abundance by every set or
slip. Fence the ground as far as any old poplar-roots extend, they will
furnish you with suckers innumerable, to be slipp'd from their mothers,
and transplanted the very first year: But if you cut down an old tree,
you shall need no other nursery. When they are young, their leaves are
somewhat broader and rounder (as most other trees are) than when they
grow aged. In moist and boggy places they will flourish wonderfully, so
the ground be not spewing; but especially near the margins and banks of
rivers,
_Populus in fluviis_..........
and in low, sweet, and fertile ground; yea, and in the dryer likewise.
Also trunchions of seven or eight foot long, thrust two foot into the
earth, (a hole being made with a sharp hard stake, fill'd with water,
and then with fine earth pressed in, and close about them) when once
rooted, may be cut at six inches above ground; and thus placed at a yard
distant, they will immediately furnish a kind of copp'ce. But in case
you plant them of rooted trees, or smaller sets, fix them not so deep;
for though we bury the trunchions thus profound, yet is the root which
they strike, commonly but shallow. They will make prodigious shoots in
15, or 16 years; but then the heads must by no means be diminish'd, but
the lower branches may, yet not too far up; the foot would also be
cleansed every second year. This for the white. The black poplar is
frequently pollar'd when as big as one's arm, eight or nine foot from
the ground, as they trim them in Italy, for their vines to serpent and
twist on, and those they poll, or head every second year, sparing the
middle, streight, and thrivingest shoot, and at the third year cut him
also. There be yet that condemn the pruning of this poplar, as hindring
their growth.
2. The shade of this tree is esteemed very wholsome in Summer, but they
do not become walks, or avenues by reason of their suckers, and that
they foul the ground at fall of the leaf; but they would be planted in
barren woods, and to flank places at distance, for their increase, and
the glittering brightness of their foliage: The leaves are good for
cattel, which must be stripp'd from the cut boughs before they are
faggoted. This to be done in the decrease of October, and reserv'd in
bundles for winter-fodder. The wood of white poplar is sought of the
sculptor, and they saw both sorts into boards, which, where they lie
dry, continue a long time. Of this material they also made shields of
defence in sword and buckler-days. Dioscorides writes, that the bark
chopt small, and sow'd in rills, well and richly manur'd and watered,
will produce a plentiful crop of mushrooms; or warm water, in which yest
is dissolv'd, cast upon a new-cut stump: It is to be noted, that those
_fungi_, which spring from the putrid stumps of this tree are not
venenous (as of all, or most other trees they are) being gathered after
the first autumnal rains. There is a poplar of a paler green, and is the
properest for watry ground: 'Twill grow of trunchions from two, or eight
foot long, and bringing a good lop in a short time, is by some preferr'd
to willows.
For the setting of these, Mr. Cook advises the boring of the ground with
a sort of auger, to prevent the stripping of the bark from the stake in
planting: A foot and half deep, or more if great, (for some may be 8 or
9 foot) for pollards, cut sloping, and free of cracks at either end: Two
or three inches diameter, is a competent bigness, and the earth should
be ramm'd close to them.
Another expedient is, by making drains in very moist ground, two spade
deep, and three foot wide, casting up the earth between the drains,
sowing it the first year with oats to mellow the ground, the next Winter
setting it for copp'ce, with these, any, or all the watry sorts of
trees; thus, in four or five years, you will have a handsome fell, and
so successively: It is in the former author, where the charge is exactly
calculated, to whom I refer the reader. I am inform'd, that in Cheshire
there grow many stately and streight black poplars, which they call
_peplurus_, that yield boards and planks of an inch and half thickness;
so fit for floaring of rooms, by some preferr'd to oak, for the
whiteness and lasting, where they lie dry.
3. They have a poplar in Virginia of a very peculiar shap'd leaf, as if
the point of it were cut off, which grows very well with the curious
amongst us to a considerable stature. I conceive it was first brought
over by John Tradescant, under the name of the tulip-tree, (from the
likeness of its flower) but is not, that I find, taken much notice of in
any of our herbals: I wish we had more of them; but they are difficult
to elevate at first.
4. The aspen only (which is that kind of _libyca_ or white poplar,
bearing a smaller, and more tremulous leaf, (by the French call'd _la
tremble_ or quaker) thrusts down a more searching foot, and in this
likewise differs, that he takes it ill to have his head cut off: Pliny
would have short trunchions couched two foot in the ground (but first
two days dried) at one foot and half distance, and then moulded over.
5. There is something a finer sort of white poplar, which the Dutch call
_abele_, and we have of late _abele_ much transported out of Holland:
These are also best propagated of slips from the roots, the least of
which will take, and may in March, at three or four years growth, be
transplanted.
6. In Flanders (not in France, as a late author pretends) they have
large nurseries of them, which first they plant at one foot distance,
the mould light and moist, by no means clayie, in which though they may
shoot up tall, yet for want of root, they never spread; for, as I said,
they must be interr'd pretty deep, not above three inches above ground;
and kept clean, by pruning them to the middle-shoot for the first two
years, and so till the third or fourth. When you transplant, place them
at eight, ten, or twelve foot interval: They will likewise grow of
layers, and even of cuttings in very moist places. In three years, they
will come to an incredible altitude; in twelve, be as big as your
middle; and in eighteen or twenty, arrive to full perfection. A specimen
of this advance we have had of an _abele_-tree at Sion, which being
lopp'd in Febr. 1651, did by the end of October 52, produce branches as
big as a man's wrist, and 17 foot in length; for which celerity we may
recommend them to such late builders, as seat their houses in naked and
unshelter'd places, and that would put a guise of antiquity upon any new
inclosure; since by these, whilst a man is in a voyage of no long
continuance, his house and lands may be so covered, as to be hardly
known at his return. But as they thus increase in bulk, their value (as
the Italian poplar, has taught us) advances likewise; which after the
first seven years, is annually worth twelve pence more: So as the Dutch
look upon a plantation of these trees, as an ample portion for a
daughter, and none of the least effects of their good husbandry; which
truly may very well be allow'd, if that calculation hold, which the late
worthy{132:1} Knight has asserted, (who began his plantation not long
since about Richmond,) that 30 pound being laid out in these plants,
would render at the least ten thousand pounds in eighteen years; every
tree affording thirty plants, and every of them thirty more, after each
seven year's improving twelve pence in growth, till they arrive to their
acme.
7. The black poplar grows rarely with us; it is a stronger and taller
tree than the white, the leaves more dark, and not so ample. Divers
stately ones of these, I remember about the banks of Po in Italy; which
flourishing near the old Eridanus (so celebrated by the poets) in which
the temerarious Phaeton is said to have been precipitated, doubtless
gave argument to that fiction of his sad sister's metamorphosis, and the
amber of their precious tears. It was whiles I was passing down that
river towards Ferrara, that I diverted my self with this story of the
ingenious poet. I am told there is a mountain-poplar much propagated in
Germany about Vienna, and in Bohemia, of which some trees have yielded
planks of a yard in breadth; why do we procure none of them?
8. The best use of the poplar, and _abele_ (which are all of them
hospitable trees, for any thing thrives under their shades) is for walks
and avenues about grounds which are situated low, and near the water,
till coming to be very old, they are apt to grow knurry, and out of
proportion. The timber is incomparable for all sorts of white wooden
vessels, as trays, bowls and other turners ware; and of especial use for
the bellows-maker, because it is almost of the nature of cork, and for
ship-pumps, though not very solid, yet very close, and yet light; so as
it may be us'd for the soles, as well as wooden-heels of shooes, &c.
Vitruvius _l. de Materia Cædenda_, reckons it among the
building-timbers, _quæ maxime in ædificiis sunt idoneæ_. Likewise to
make carts, because it is exceeding light; for vine, and hop-props, and
divers vimineous works. The loppings in January are for the fire; and
therefore such as have proper grounds, may with ease, and in short time,
store themselves for a considerable family, where fuel is dear: but the
truth is, it burns untowardly, and rather moulders away, than maintains
any solid heat. Of the twigs (with the leaves on) are made brooms. The
_brya_, or catkins attract the bees, as do also the leaves (especially
of the black) more tenacious of the meldews than most forest-trees, the
oak excepted.
Of the aspen, our wood-men make hoops, fire-wood, and coals, &c. and of
the bark of young trees, in some countries, it serves for candle or
torch-wood.
The juice of poplar leaves, dropp'd into the ears, asswages the pain;
and the buds contus'd, and mix'd with honey, is a good _collyrium_ for
the eyes; as the unguent to refrigerate and cause sleep.
One thing more is not to be pass'd over, of the white-poplar; that the
seeds of misselto being put into holes bored in the bark of this tree,
have produced the plant: Experiment sufficient to determine that so long
controverted question, concerning spontaneous and æquivocal generations.
vid. D. _Raii_ P. L. Append. p. 1918.
FOOTNOTES:
{132:1} Sir Richard Weston.
CHAPTER XV.
_Of the Quick-Beam._
1. The quick-beam [_ornus_, or as the _pinax_ more peculiarly, _fraxinus
bubula_; others, the wild sorb] or (as some term it) the witchen, is a
species of wild-ash. The Berries which it produced in October, may then
be sown; or rather the sets planted: I have store of them in a warm
grove of mine, and 'tis of singular beauty: It rises to a reasonable
stature, shoots upright, and slender, and consists of a fine smooth
bark. It delights to be both in mountains and woods, and to fix it self
in good light grounds; Virgil affirms, 'twill unite with the pear.
2. Besides the use of it for the husbandman's tools, goads, &c. the
wheelright commends it for being all heart; if the tree be large, and so
well grown as some there are, it will saw into planks, boards and
timber, (vide Chap XXX. Sect. 10.) and our fletchers commend it for bows
next to yew; which we ought not to pass over, for the glory of our once
right English ancestors: In a Statute of HEN. 8. you have it mention'd:
It is excellent fuel; but I have not yet observed any other use, save
that the blossoms are of an agreeable scent, and the berries such a
tempting bait for the thrushes, that as long as they last, you shall be
sure of their company. Some highly commend the juice of the berries,
which (fermenting of it self) if well preserv'd, makes an excellent
drink against the spleen and scurvy: Ale and beer brew'd with these
berries, being ripe, is an incomparable drink, familiar in Wales, where
this tree is reputed so sacred, that as there is not a church-yard
without one of them planted in them (as among us the yew) so on a
certain day in the year, every body religiously wears a cross made of
the wood, and the tree is by some authors call'd _fraxinus
Cambro-Britannica_; reputed to be a preservative against fascinations
and evil-spirits; whence, perhaps, we call it witchen; the boughs being
stuck about the house, or the wood used for walking-staves.
CHAPTER XVI.
_Of the Hasel._
1. _Nux silvestris_, or _corylus_, the hasel, is best rais'd from
the{136:1} nuts, (also by suckers and layers) which you shall sow like
mast, in a pretty deep furrow toward the end of February, or treat them
as you are instructed in the walnut; light ground may immediately be
sown and harrow'd-in very accurately; but in case the mould be clay,
plow it earlier, and let it be sufficiently mellow'd with the frosts;
and then the third year cut your trees near to the ground with a sharp
bill, the moon decreasing.
2. But if you would make a grove for pleasure, plant them in fosses, at
a yard distance, and cut them within half a foot of the earth, dressing
them for three or four Springs and Autumns, by only loosning the mould a
little about their roots. Others there are, who set the nuts by hand at
one foot distance, to be transplanted the third year, at a yard asunder:
But this work is not to be taken in hand so soon as the nuts fall, till
winter be well advanc'd; because they are exceedingly obnoxious to the
frosts; nor will they sprout till the Spring; besides, vermin are great
devourers of them: Preserve them therefore moist, not mouldy; by laying
them in their own dry leaves, or in sand, till January.
Hasels from sets and suckers take.{136:2}
3. From whence they thrive very well, the shoots being of the
scantlings of small wands and switches, or somewhat bigger, and such as
have drawn divers hairy twigs, which are by no means to be disbranch'd,
no more than their roots, unless by a very sparing and discreet hand.
Thus, your _coryletum_, or copp'ce of hasels, being planted about
Autumn, may (as some practise it) be cut within three or four inches of
the ground the Spring following, which the new cyon will suddenly repair
in clusters, and tufts of fair poles of twenty, or sometimes thirty foot
long: But I rather should spare them till two or three years after, when
they shall have taken strong hold, and may be cut close to the very
earth, the improsperous and feeble ones especially. Thus are likewise
filberts to be treated, both of them improved much by transplanting, but
chiefly by graffing, and it would be try'd with filberts, and even with
almonds themselves, for more elegant experiments.
In the mean time, I do not confound the filbert, pontic, or filbord,
distinguish'd by its beard, among our foresters (or bald hasel-nuts)
which doubtless we had from abroad; and bearing the names of _avelan_,
_avelin_, as I find in some ancient records and deeds in my custody,
where my ancestors names were written Avelan, _alias_, Evelin,
generally.
4. For the place, they above all affect cold, barren, dry, and sandy
grounds; also mountains, and even rocky soils produce them; and where
quaries of free-stone lie underneath, as that at Hasulbery in Wilts,
Haseling-field in Cambridge-shire, Haselmeer in Surrey, and other
places; but more plentifully, if the ground be somewhat moist, dankish
and mossie, as in the fresher bottoms, and sides of hills, hoults, and
in hedge-rows. Such as are maintain'd for copp'ces, may after twelve
years be fell'd the first time; the next, at seven or eight, &c. for by
this period, their roots will be compleatly vigorous. You may plant them
from October to January, provided you keep them carefully weeded, till
they have taken fast hold; and there is not among all our store, a more
profitable wood for copp'ces, and therefore good husbands should store
them with it.
5. The use of the hasel is for poles, spars, hoops, forks, angling-rods,
faggots, cudgels, coals, and springs to catch birds; and it makes one of
the best coals, once us'd for gun-powder; being very fine and light,
till they found alder to be more fit: There is no wood which purifies
wine sooner, than the chips of hasel: Also for with's and bands, upon
which, I remember, Pliny thinks it a pretty speculation, that a wood
should be stronger to bind withal, being bruis'd and divided, than when
whole and entire: The coals are us'd by painters, to draw with like
those of Sallow: Lastly, for riding switches, and divinatory rods for
the detecting and finding out of minerals; (at least, if that tradition
be no imposture) is very wonderful; by whatsoever occult virtue, the
forked-stick (so cut, and skilfully held) becomes impregnated with those
invisible steams and exhalations; as by its spontaneous bending from an
horizontal posture, to discover not only mines, and subterraneous
treasure, and springs of water, but criminals, guilty of murther, &c.
made out so solemnly, and the effects thereof, by the attestation of
magistrates, and divers other learned and credibile persons, (who have
critically examined matters of fact) is certainly next to miracle, and
requires a strong faith: Let the curious therefore consult that
philosophical treatise of{139:1} Dr. Vallemont; which will at least
entertain them with a world of surprizing things. But now after all the
most signal honour it was ever employ'd in, and which might deservedly
exalt this humble and common plant above all the trees of the wood, is
that of hurdles, (especially the flexible white: the red and brittle);
not for that it is generally used for the folding of our innocent sheep,
an emblem of the church; but for making the walls of one of the first
Christian Oratories in the world; and particularly in this island, that
venerable and sacred fabrick at Glastenbury, founded by St. Joseph of
Arimathea; which is storied to have been first compos'd but of a few
small hasel-rods interwoven about certain stakes driven into the ground;
and walls of this kind, instead of laths and punchions, superinduc'd
with a course mortar made of loam and straw, do to this day inclose
divers humble cottages, sheads and out-houses in the countrey; and 'tis
strong and lasting for such purposes, whole, or cleft, and I have seen
ample enclosures of courts and gardens so secur'd.
6. There is a compendious expedient for the thickning of copp'ces which
are too transparent, by laying of a sampler or pole of an hasel, ash,
poplar, &c. of twenty or thirty foot in length (the head a little
lopp'd) into the ground, giving it a chop near the foot, to make it
succumb; this fastned to the earth with a hook or two, and cover'd with
some fresh mould at a competent depth (as gardeners lay their
carnations) will produce a world of suckers, thicken and furnish a
copp'ce speedily. I add no more of filberts, a kinder and better sort
of hasel-nut, of larger and longer shape and beard; the kernels also
cover'd with a fine membrane, of which the red is more delicate: They
both are propagated as the hasel, and while more domestick, planted
either asunder, or in palisade, are seldom found in the copp'ces: They
are brought among other fruit, to the best tables for desert, and are
said to fatten, but too much eaten, obnoxious to the asthmatic. In the
mean time, of this I have had experience; that hasel-nuts, but the
filberd specially, being full ripe, and peel'd in warm water, (as they
blanch almonds) make a pudding very little (if at all) inferior to that
our ladies make of almonds. But I am now come to the water-side; let us
next consider the aquatic.
FOOTNOTES:
{136:1} _De nucum generibus_, vide Macrob. Sect. L. II. C. 14.
{136:2}
Plantis & duræ coryli nascuntur....................
_Georg. 2._
{139:1} Vallemont, _Physique occult ou traite de la baguet divinitoire,
&c._ But concerning the exploration, and superstitious original, see Sir
Thomas Brown, _Vulg. Err._ cap. xxiv. sect. 17. and the commentators
upon 4. Hosea. 12.
CHAPTER XVII.
_Of the Birch._
1. The birch [_betula_, in British _bedw_, doubtless a proper indigene
of England, (whence some derive the name of Barkshire) though Pliny
calls it a Gaulish tree] is altogether produc'd of roots or suckers,
(though it sheds a kind of _samera_ about the Spring) which being
planted at four or five foot interval, in small twigs, will suddenly
rise to trees; provided they affect the ground, which cannot well be too
barren, or spongy; for it will thrive both in the dry, and the wet,
sand, and stony, marshes, and bogs; the water-galls, and uliginous parts
of forests that hardly bear any grass, do many times spontaneously
produce it in abundance, whether the place be high, or low, and nothing
comes amiss to it. Plant the small twigs, or suckers having roots, and
after the first year, cut them within an inch of the surface; this will
cause them to sprout in strong and lusty tufts, fit for copp'ce, and
spring-woods; or, by reducing them to one stem, render them in a very
few years fit for the turner. For
2. Though birch be of all other the worst of timber, yet has it its
various uses, as for the husbandman's ox-yoaks; also for hoops, small
screws, paniers, brooms, wands, bavin-bands, and wythes for fagots; and
claims a memory for arrows, bolts, shafts, (our old English artillery;)
also for dishes, bowls, ladles, and other domestic utensils, in the good
old days of more simplicity, yet of better and truer hospitality. In
New-England our Northern Americans make canoos, boxes, buckets, kettles,
dishes, which they sow, and joyn very curiously with thread made of
cedar-roots, and divers other domestical utensils, as baskets, baggs,
with this tree, whereof they have a blacker kind; and out of a certain
excrescence from the bole, a _fungus_, which being boil'd, beaten, and
dry'd in an oven, makes excellent spunck or touch-wood, and balls to
play withal; and being reduc'd to powder, astringent, is an infallible
remedy in the hoemerhoids. They make also not only this small ware, but
even small-craft, pinnaces of birch, ribbing them with white cedar, and
covering them with large flakes of birch-bark, sow them with thread of
spruse-roots, and pitch them, as it seems we did even here in Britain,
as well as the Veneti, making use of the willow, whereof Lucan,
When Sicoris to his own banks restor'd,
Had quit the field, of twigs, and willow-board
They build small craft, cover'd with bullocks-hide,
In which they reach'd the rivers farther side:
So sail the Veneti if Padus flow,
The Britains sail on their rough ocean so.{142:1}
Also for fuel: In many of the mosses in the West-Riding of Yorkshire,
are often dug up birch-trees, that burn and flame like firr and
candle-wood; and I think Pliny says the Gaules extracted a sort of
bitumen out of birch: Great and small coal, are made by the charring of
this wood; (see Book III Chap. 4. of fuel) as of the tops and loppings,
Mr. Howard's new tanne. The inner white cuticle and silken-bark, (which
strips off of it self almost yearly) was anciently us'd for
writing-tables, even before the invention of paper; of which there is a
birch-tree in Canada, whose bark will serve to write on, and may be made
into books, and of the twigs very pretty baskets; with the outward
thicker and courser part of the common birch, are divers houses in
Russia, Poland, and those poor northern tracts cover'd, instead of
slates and tyle: Nay, one who has lately publish'd an account of
Sweden,{142:2} says, that the poor people grind the very bark of
birch-trees, to mingle with their bread-corn. 'Tis affirm'd by Cardan,
that some birch-roots are so very extravagantly vein'd, as to represent
the shapes and images of beasts, birds, trees, and many other pretty
resemblances. Lastly, of the whitest part of the old wood, found
commonly in doating birches, is made the grounds of our effeminate
farin'd gallants sweet powder; and of the quite consum'd and rotten
(such as we find reduc'd to a kind of reddish earth in superannuated
hollow-trees) is gotten the best mould for the raising of divers
seedlings of the rarest plants and flowers; to say nothing here of the
magisterial _fasces_ for which anciently the cudgels were us'd by the
_lictor_, for lighter faults, as now the gentler rods by our tyrannical
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