Part 7
As summer passes, the seed-vessels, which have had stamen dust scattered over them, become small green berries (5), and these berries turn yellow and then change into a deep red, the colour of coral or sealing-wax. The berries cluster round the green stalk, and most beautiful they are among the glossy dark leaves. Inside each berry there are four little fruit stones containing seeds, and the birds love to eat these red berries, which are full of mealy pulp; but remember that children must never eat the Holly berries, as they are poisonous except for the birds.
You will find that if the Holly tree has a good crop of berries this winter there will not be many the following year; the tree seems to require a year’s rest before it can produce a second large crop.
There are some Holly trees with leaves which are shaded with pale yellow or white--variegated Hollies, we call them. These are greatly prized for planting in gardens, where the bushes with different-coloured leaves lend much beauty when all the trees are bare in winter.
The wood of the Holly is too small to be of much use. It is white and very hard, and when stained black it is largely used instead of ebony, which is scarce and expensive. The black handles of many of our silver teapots are made of stained Holly wood. A sticky lime, which is used for snaring birds, is made from the young green shoots and twigs, and the slender branches are good for making walking-sticks and coachmen’s whips.
PLATE XXIV
THE WILD CHERRY OR GEAN
There are now more than forty varieties of Cherry in Britain, and they all are descended from the Gean or Wild Cherry tree. This favourite tree belongs to the great Rose family, and is related to the Apple, and Pear, and Plum. It grows freely all over Britain except in the very north of Scotland; and we read that six hundred years ago the county of Kent was famous for its Cherry orchards.
In Germany the Cherry is planted for many miles by the roadsides, so that all passers-by may eat the fruit and enjoy the shade cast by the tall trees. And if there should be any particular tree whose fruit the owner does not wish taken, he ties a wisp of straw round that tree, and the people understand the sign and do not touch these Cherries.
In France the Wild Cherry fruit, along with a little bread and butter, is often the only food of the poor charcoal-burners and wood-cutters, who stay in the forest during the cold winter months.
Song birds, especially the blackbirds, love to eat cherries, and as we are very grateful to the birds for eating the many grubs and insects which destroy our fruit and corn, we must not grudge them a feast from our Cherry trees. It is probably the birds who have carried the seeds to the many different places where we find Cherry trees springing up.
The Wild Cherry (1) is a tall tree with wide-spreading branches. It has a smooth grey bark, from which you will often see oozing large drops of clear gum. This gum is very sticky, it will not melt in cold water, and it is very difficult to remove from your fingers. The Wild Cherry leaves (2) appear in spring, long oval leaves ending in a point, and with sharp teeth along the edge. These leaves are very soft, and they droop from the twigs. At first the leaf is folded lengthways, with the two edges meeting, and it is a dull brown colour; but this colour soon changes in the sunshine to a soft green, and when autumn comes you find leaves of every shade of pink and red and crimson.
The large white Cherry blossoms (2) come almost at the same time as the leaves, and they grow in loose clusters, in which the flowers hang from the end of long, drooping stalks. There are always many small leaf-like scales where these flower stalks join the twig. Each blossom has a pear-shaped calyx at the end of the flower stalk, and this calyx is edged with five green points. These points fold back against the stalk after the flower is withered.
There are five large snowy petals which make the flower clusters look very lovely in the spring sunshine, but the petals fall very quickly and strew the ground with their snowy flakes.
Within the petal circle there are many slender stamens, and you can see a long red-tipped point rising from the seed-vessel, which lies concealed in the pear-shaped calyx which stands beneath the petals and sepals.
The Wild Cherry fruit (3) is black, and sometimes dark red. It is rather sour, and the cherries we buy in the shops are usually cherries which have been cultivated in an orchard, and have been grown in a warmer country.
In Cambridgeshire there is a festival called Cherry Sunday, when every one goes to the Cherry orchard, and on paying sixpence may eat as many cherries as he pleases.
For some unknown reason the cuckoo has always been associated with the Cherry tree. There is an old proverb which says, “The cuckoo never sings till he has thrice eaten his fill of cherries”; and country children play a delightful game in which he has a part. They join hands and dance round a Cherry tree, singing--
“Cuckoo, Cherry tree, Come down and tell to me, How many years I have to live.”
Then each child shakes one of the Cherry tree branches, and the number of cherries that fall tell him how many years he will live. If five cherries fall he has five years to live, and if twelve cherries fall he will live twelve years, and so on.
There is a cunning little bird called the woodpecker which very often visits the Cherry tree. He eats the insects that live on its bark; and you can hear his bill peck, pecking at the trunk as he picks up his food.
The wood of the Cherry tree is hard, yet easily worked. It is much in demand by furniture makers, and is a rich red colour which can be highly polished.
PLATE XXV
THE WHITEBEAM
In the old Saxon language, which was once the language spoken by most of the people in England, the word beam means a tree, so we must be careful not to speak of the Whitebeam tree, as that would be just the same as to say the White tree tree.
The Whitebeam (1) is not nearly so common as the Oak, or the Ash or Beech, and yet it has been known in this country for many hundred years. It is found growing stiff and tall on bleak chalky pastures as well as in beautiful parks and plantations. The trunk is covered with a rough brown bark, and there are great deep roots which spread widely and keep the tree firmly attached to the soil.
It is easy to see why this tree is called the Whitebeam. Look at the fat buds which have been on the tree all winter, making you think that spring was close at hand. In April these buds burst open, and you see that the young leaves inside are covered with a thick coating of woolly down. They are the woolliest buds which grow in this country, and the leaves (2), when they first come out, are as white as if they had been sprinkled with flour. They are pretty leaves, broad and oval, with large teeth cut all round the edge and with clearly-marked veins. At first each leaf is white above as well as below, but as it gets older the woolly down disappears from the upper side, and the leaf becomes a dark, glossy green. But watch the tree some day when the wind is stirring, and at every gust the dark green leaves blow upwards and sideways, and you will see that the back of each leaf is silvery white--the woolly lining has remained. You remember that the white Poplar or Abele tree had leaves which were white-lined too.
The flowers of the Whitebeam (2) resemble those of the Rowan, but they are larger and are not so closely clustered together on their short stalks. Each flower has five pointed green sepals standing out like the rays of a star beneath the circle of five white petals. There is a ring of delicate stamens with yellow heads within the petal circle, and the seeds are concealed in the pear-shaped swelling which supports the flower at the end of the flower stalk. There are often dark spots on the main flower stem from which all the smaller ones branch.
After the white petals and the stamens have fallen off, the swollen flower stalk enlarges and becomes an oval berry (3), considerably larger than that of the Rowan. At first the berries are covered with white down, but soon that wears off, and you see that the berries are smooth and are a rich red colour. They are not good to eat, these attractive-looking berries, though people say they are pleasant when over-ripe and ready to decay. But the birds love them, and so do hedgehogs and squirrels.
In France the people plant a great many Whitebeams. This is because the small birds require the berries for food in the winter, when there are no longer grubs and insects to be found. These grubs and insects destroy the vines and corn when they are young and tender in early spring, and the small birds are needed because they eat these pests, and so save the young plants.
The wood of the Whitebeam is not much used, though small objects, such as wooden spoons, knife handles, and combs, are made of it. It is very hard, and will take a high polish.
PLATE XXVI
THE ROWAN OR MOUNTAIN ASH
“Their spells were vain, the boy returned To the Queen in sorrowful mood, Crying that witches have no power Where there is Roan tree wood.”
--Old Song.
The Rowan tree is closely related to the roses, and is a cousin of the Hawthorn, the Apple, and the Pear. It is not related in any way to the Ash, but the leaves have some resemblance, because, like the Ash tree leaves, they are made up of many pairs of small leaflets growing opposite each other on each side of a centre stalk, and with an odd leaflet at the end. But the leaflets of the Ash tree have each a stalk; those in the Rowan have none, and in the Ash tree each large feathery leaf is planted exactly opposite its neighbour, while in the Rowan the leaves grow alternately. The name Mountain Ash is a mistake.
The Rowan tree (1) is seen at its best among the wild glens and mountains of the north and west of Scotland. It requires air and light, and will flourish in almost any kind of soil, and many are the tales which are woven round the life of this beautiful tree. It is called the Roan, or whispering tree, because it has secrets to tell to those who will listen. No witches or evil spirits can cross a door over which a branch of Rowan is nailed, and no harm will happen to him who has a sprig of Rowan pinned to his coat. In every churchyard in Wales a Rowan tree is planted to scare away demons who might disturb the sleep of the dead; and on lonely farms high up on the mountain sides, the Witchin, or Wiggin tree, as it used to be called, is placed close beside the dwelling-house.
The Rowan is not a large tree; it grows easily and requires no pruning, as its branches rarely die, and the tree never loses its graceful shape. The branches are wiry and slender, and they all point upward. The bark is a dark purple colour and is glossy and smooth; across it there are many curious deep gashes, as if the tree had been scored with a knife.
The Rowan is often planted in new coppices to shield the young trees, but as soon as these grow up and throw out many branches, they stifle their kind nurse, which cannot grow without plenty of light and air.
Early in spring the Rowan buds appear, fat woolly buds covered with grey cottony down. The young leaves (3) are carefully packed inside among plenty of cotton wool, and very downy they look when they first come out. Each leaflet is toothed round the edge, and is dark glossy green above and much paler green underneath. These leaves remain on the tree till late in autumn, then when the frost touches them with its icy fingers they change to wonderful shades of gold and scarlet and pink, and they fall with the October winds.
The Rowan tree flowers (2) blossom in May, and they grow in dense dusters, each flower at the end of a small stalk. There are many small stalks, all about the same height, and they branch again and again from the main stem, forming a thick cluster. The flowers are very delightful, though they lack the snowy beauty and have none of the delicate scent of the Hawthorn. Each Rowan flower has five green sepals and five creamy white petals. These are placed round the end of the flower stalk, which is slightly swollen, and inside this swelling lies hidden the seed-vessel; you can see three sticky threads rising from it in the centre of the ring of petals. There is a circle of yellow-headed stamens within the petal ring.
By the end of June the Rowan flowers have faded and the creamy petals strew the ground. But the tree does not only depend for its beauty on the creamy flowers or on the changing leaves.
The swollen flower stalks have been growing all summer, and now the end of each stalk has become a small round berry (3), and a dense cluster of these berries hangs in a bunch from the main stem. In autumn these berries turn a rich yellow red, and very brilliant they look among the dark green leaves. Song birds love these Rowan berries, and so long as any remain on the tree the blackbird and thrush will be its constant visitors.
When corn was scarce in the hard winters of long ago these Rowan berries were dried and made into flour. Many people to-day make them into jelly, which is a rich golden colour, but has rather a bitter taste.
The wood of the Rowan tree is very tough, and is principally used for making poles.
PLATE XXVII
THE HAWTHORN
“Mark the fair blooming of the Hawthorn tree, Who, finely clothed in a robe of white, Fills full the wanton eye with May’s delight.”
--Chaucer.
We cannot think of the Hawthorn as one of our noble forest trees, like the Oak and the Beech; it is dear to us as a village tree, a friendly, bushy tree which has grown in our garden, or in the fields and meadows close to our country cottages. We remember the long sunny May days when we gathered armfuls of its lovely blossoms, and the frosty autumn mornings when its berries shone like rubies on the bare, wind-stripped branches. It has always been in close touch with our lives, and it has left many pictures graven deep in our memory.
The Hawthorn (1), or May, or White-thorn, as it is often called from the colour of its flowers, has been known to us since very long ago. When the hero Ulysses came home from his weary wanderings, he found his old father alone; all the servants had gone to the woods to get young Hawthorn trees to make a hedge, and the old man was busy digging trenches in which to plant them.
Even in that far-off time people had discovered that nothing makes so good a hedge as young thorn trees. They grow very quickly and send out many side-shoots and small branches. Each branch bears sharp thorns, and so closely do these thorny branches grow together that it is impossible to push your hand through the hedge without being badly scratched. Young cattle and horses love to feed on the Hawthorn leaves, and one wonders how they can eat them without getting many scratches.
Long after the time of Ulysses we find that bunches of flowering Hawthorn were carried in wedding processions as an emblem of hope, and torches made of its wood were burned. There is a strange old legend which tells how Joseph of Arimathea landed on the island of Avalon at Christmas-tide. He was very weary, and lay down to rest, but first he planted his staff of Hawthorn firmly in the ground beside him. And in the morning he found that the staff had put out roots and was covered with Hawthorn blossoms. By this he knew it was meant that he should stay in Avalon, and he built a monastery for himself and his brethren and remained there till he died.
Until not so long ago the country people in England used to hold gay sports in the village in the month of May. A tall mast, or Maypole, was planted in the ground, and the men and maidens decorated it with wreaths of Hawthorn blossoms. Then they danced, and sang, and held merry games around the Maypole in honour of summer’s return.
In early spring the Hawthorn tree, if you find one growing singly in a field or meadow, is most easily recognised by its bushy appearance. The tree trunk is dark grey and very rough; often it is twisted like a rope, but it is rarely a thick trunk, as you seldom find a large Hawthorn. Even when very old-about two hundred and fifty years some are said to live--the Hawthorn is always a small tree.
In April the young leaf buds appear; pale green knobs, or little bundles, bursting from every branch. Each leaf (2) is cut up into blunt fingers, and soon it loses its paleness and becomes dark green and glossy. In autumn these leaves change to gold and dark red and brown; but the frosty nights and cold winds soon strip them from the branches.
May is the month when the flowers (2) begin to bloom--clusters of tiny snow-white balls, each at the end of a slender green stalk. In England it was the custom to give a basin of cream for breakfast to the person who first brought home a branch of Hawthorn in blossom on the first of May.
When the flower balls or buds unclose, you find that they have five snow-white petals, which are set in the throat of the calyx cup. Within this ring of petals, round the mouth of the cup, grow many slender stamens, each with a bright pink head. And if you look at the back of the flower, you will see five green points which stand out like the rays of a star behind the white petals. These are the sepals.
Below this green star the stalk looks slightly swollen: this swelling contains the seed, and by the time autumn comes it will have grown into a small green berry. After the white petals and the pink-headed stamens have fallen, you will find clusters of these berries, which are called haws, each with the withered remains of the sepals clinging to the top, as you find them in the Rose and in the Apple. The berries (3) become crimson when the frost comes, and birds eat them greedily.
We have few trees which flower so beautifully as the Hawthorn. In May and June the hedgerows are laden with its masses of snowy blossoms. Sometimes you will find Hawthorns on which the flowers are a vivid crimson, and these are so transparently beautiful they look as if the light shone through them. And in autumn no tree is more attractive than the Hawthorn, with its gleaming berries and many-coloured leaves.
The wood of the Hawthorn is not very serviceable. It is hard and may be highly polished, but the trees are too small for the timber to be useful.
The branches, like those of the Ash and the Whin, burn readily, even when green, and in Scotland the bark was used in olden days to dye wool black.
PLATE XXVIII
THE BOX
Many of us only know Box as the name given to the small bushy plant which is placed along the edges of our garden borders to keep the earth from falling out on the gravel path. And we are surprised to learn that this plant is only the Dwarf Box, and that the true Box is a tree, a fair-sized tree, which may be seen any day in Oxford growing to a height of over twenty feet. We must learn to recognise the Box tree, for in the South of England there are still many districts where it grows freely.
It has been known in this country for hundreds of years, but its fame has come down to us in a curious way. In old books we read that the Box was chiefly prized as the tree which would stand more clipping than any other. People in those days had a strange fancy for cutting trees and bushes into quaint shapes. They had Box trees which looked like peacocks, and Box trees shaped like beehives. There were arm-chairs, and tubs, and even statues made of growing Box, cut and trimmed by the gardener’s clever shears.
The best gardener then was the one who clipped best, and a very difficult art it was, to clip the tree into a certain shape and yet not to kill it. Nowadays these quaint Box tree curiosities are scarcely ever made, but a Box tree hedge is often planted, and its masses of closely-crowded evergreen leaves afford good protection to young plants in a windy garden.
The Box tree (1) has a dark grey-green bark, and the young shoots are four-sided. It grows very slowly--only a few inches each year--and because of this the wood is very hard and fine, as fine as ebony.
The leaves (2) are placed opposite each other, and are small and egg-shaped, with smooth edges. Above they are dark green and very glossy, but underneath the colour is paler. They are very poisonous these Box leaves, and fowls are known to have died from eating them.
The poet Wordsworth tells us that at country funerals it was usual to have a basin filled with sprays of Box standing at the door, and every friend who came to the funeral took a spray, which he carried to the churchyard and laid on the new grave. Rosemary or Yew sprays were often used in the same way.
The flowers are very tiny; you will scarcely be able to see how they are shaped without a magnifying-glass. They grow in crowded yellow clusters at the foot of the leaves, where they join the stem. In each cluster there is usually one seed flower (3) with a tiny green pea in the centre, from which rise three curved horns. All the other flowers will be stamen flowers, which shed plenty of pollen dust over this single green pea. The fruit (4) is a green berry, enclosing a tiny black seed, which you cannot see.
Box-wood is very valuable and is scarce in this country. Most of what we use comes from other lands. In France there is a large Box-wood forest near the village of St. Claude, and all the people in that village spend their days making the Box-wood into small articles, such as forks and spoons, and rosaries and snuff-boxes, for which they get a good deal of money. The wood is pale yellow, and may be cut into the finest pattern without breaking. For many years Box-wood has been used by engravers for making the blocks from which pictures and patterns are printed; the wood is so hard that these blocks can be used many, many times without the edges becoming worn.
Near London there grew a famous wood called Boxhill, and when the trees in that wood were cut down they were sold for ten thousand pounds.
PLATE XXIX
THE WALNUT
The Walnut tree (1) comes to us from sunny Italy and France, where it has grown for many centuries and is greatly prized. Its Latin name, _Juglans_, means the nut of Jove, and the Romans called it so because they thought the fruit was worthy to be set before their chief god Jove. It was brought to this country about five hundred years ago, and seems to have been grown in many districts until the beginning of last century, when there came a great demand for its wood. As much as six hundred pounds was given for a single Walnut tree, and at once all the people who had Walnut trees cut them down and sold them. This greatly reduced the number.
It is a large, handsome tree, which grows to a considerable height, and has a very thick trunk covered with grey bark. This trunk is smooth when the tree is young, but turns rugged as it grows older. The Walnut branches are large and spreading; they are sometimes twisted, but the tips of each branch always turn to the sky. For long it was thought to be dangerous to sleep beneath the shade of a Walnut tree, but for what reason I have not been able to discover.