SYLVA: OR A DISCOURSE OF FOREST TREES & THE OF TIMBER VOLUME ONE SL. e Xr as S Y L 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.CEc. A REPRINT OF THE FOURTH EDITION IN TWO VOLUMES VOLUME ONE LONDON: PUBLISHED BY ARTHUR DOUBLEDAY fc? COMPANY LIMITED AT 8 YORK BUILDINGS ADELPHI CONTENTS. VOLUME I. Introduction " P a g e i x Title Page of 4th Edition Ixxiii To the King Ixxv To the Reader Ixxvii Advertisement xcix Books published by the Author ci Amico carissimo cii Nobilissimo Viro ciii EIS THN TOY IIATPOS AENAPOAOriAN . . cvi The Garden. To J. Evelyn, Esq cvii BOOK I. CHAPTER I. Of the Earth, Soil, Seed, Air, and Water i II. Of the Seminary and of Trans- planting 12 III. Of the Oak 30 IV. Of the Elm 62 V. Of the Beech 75 VI. Of the Horn-beam 81 222716 vi CONTENTS CHAPTER VII. Of the Ash page 86 VIII. Of the Chesnut 94 IX. Of the Wallnut 101 X. Of the Service, and black cherry- tree in XL 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. OftheHasel 136 XVII. Of the Birch i 4O 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, s?c 214 III. Of the Fir, Pine, Pinaster, Pitch- tree, Larsh, and Subterranean trees '* 22 IV. Of the Cedar, Juniper, Cypress, Savine, Thuya, &c 253 V. Of the Cork, Ilex, Alaternus, Ce- lastrus, Ligustrum, Philyrea, Myrtil, Lentiscus, Olive, Gra- nade, Syring, Jasmine and other Exoticks 282 VI. Of the Arbutus, Box, Yew, Holly, Pyracinth, Laurel, Bay, &C. . 293 VII. Of the infirmities of trees, &C. . 314 CONTENTS vii VOLUME II. BOOK III. CHAPTER I. OfCopp'ces page i 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 Pre- cepts 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, con- taining 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, tfc 205 Renati Rapini 269 INTRODUCTION. Evelyn sf his literary contemporaries Isaac Walton &f Samuel Pepys. Among the prose writers of the second half of the seven- teenth 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 math- amatical science, Locke and Bentley in philosophy and classical learning, Clarendon and Burnet in history, L'Est- range, 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 hid- den 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 fer- vently religious and romantic temperament, in his richness of x INTRODUCTION 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 Mans Recreation, the great classic " Discourse of Fish and Fishing, " was a London tradesman, while his equally celebrated contempor- ary John Evelyn, author of Syha, 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 con- cerned 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 INTRODUCTION xi 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 secret- ary 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 xii INTRODUCTION years before he succumbed to a long and painful disease borne with fortitude under the depression of reduced cir- cumstances, 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 cir- cumstances 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 drap- ery 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 provin- cial 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 Commie at 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 parti- sanship, 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 be- tween them is almost impossible. They are both authors : but it was by chance rather than by design that Pepys ulti- mately 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 INTRODUCTION xiii 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 publish- ed 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 quaff- ing of the wine-cup, his household bickerings, his impro- prieties 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 dis- regard 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 xiv INTRODUCTION 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 mainten- ance 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 c 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. INRTODUCTION xv 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 Admirality, 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. ' xvi INTRODUCTION 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 autobio- graphical 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 1 1 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 3ist. 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 ex- tremity ; 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 fore- head, 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 spar- ing. 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, stran- gers, 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 conver- INTRODUCTION xvii sation, 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 ceconomie 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 reason- able 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 lo^ed ; 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 situat- ed 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 3 xviii INTRODUCTION 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 univer- sal 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 Manners, the patronage of the livings about it, and, what is none of the least advant- ages, 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 qua 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. INTRODUCTION xix At the early age of four John Evelyn was initiated into the rudiments of education by one Frier, who taught child- ren 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 per- verseness 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 applica- tion 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 perfect- ion of hand, because I was so frequently diverted by inclin- ations 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 c 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 3' 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 SmoaJ^ 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 INTRODUCTION Iv 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-dark- ness, 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 par- ticular, 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 Par- liament, this infernal Nuisance be removed.' There is no beating about the bush here, and no min- cing 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 found- ed 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 permis- sible to emphasise the fact in so paradoxical a manner he was a courtier ; and that at a time when expressions of loyalty Ivi INTRODUCTION 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 sup- port, 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, INTRODUCTION Ivii probably during the democratic Commonwealth, been erect- ed 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, pericly- mena, 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-Rowers from the Rivage of GenOa, and St. Pietro deir 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-fiower, Prim- roses, 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, Cammo- mile, 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 8 Iviii INTRODUCTION 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 pro- hibited, 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 imagined 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 improve- ment 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 Majestic, 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 ' fre- quently displeased at the small advance and improvement of Publick Works in this nation, ' he further expresses him- self 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 pry-Luxury, and the temptation to the Vices he condemns. It was indeed a plain Man l (a Totter by Trade] but let no body despise him because a "Potter (Agathodes, 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, Trinces, 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 Tlow 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 im- prove their Estates : Methinksthis is well and rationally argued. 1 Palissy, le Moyen de devenir Riche. TO THE READER Ixxxiii And now you have in part what I had to produce in extenuation of this Adventure ; that Animated with a Com- mand^ and Assisted by divers Worthy Persons (whose Names I am prone to celebrate with all just Respects) I have pre- sumed 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, tarn discentibus eget, quam magistris : Adhuc enim Scholas Rhetorum, s? Geometrarum, Musicorum- que, vel quod magis mirandum est, contemptissimorum vitiorum officinas, gulosius condiendi cibos, &? luxurio sius fercula struendi, capitumque & capillorum concinnatores, non solum esse audivi, sed & ipse vidi ; Agricolationis neque Doctores qui se profiterentur, neque Discipulos cognovi. 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 Improve- 1 Praefat ad P. Silvinum ; which I earnestly recommend to the serious perusal of our Gentry. Et mihi ad sapientis vitam proximd videtur accedere. Cic. de Senectute. Ixxxiv TO THE READER ments, 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 En- couragement 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 for- bearing 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, ^ffc. or so sedulously made it their business, to specific 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 Instruct- ive ; and both Directions and Encouragements for the Propa- gation 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 pro- TO THE READER Ixxxv parties, 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 a Oafy 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 Ostent- ation 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 Endea- vours, and am obliged to them for much of that I know,) nor will I (with some) reproach Tliny, Porta, Cardan, fMizal- dus, Cursius, and many others of great Barnes (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 no- blest Faculties to their blind 'Traditions. This you will be apt to say, is a haughty Period-, but whilst I affirm it of 1 Ne silvae quidcm, horridiorque naturae fades medicinis carent, sacra ilia parente rerum omnium, nusquam non remcdia disponente homini ut Medicina, fieret etiam solitudo ipsa, &c. HincnataMedicina, &c. Haec sola naturae placuerat esse remedia parata vulgo, inventu facilia, ac sine impendio, ex quibus vivimus, &c. Plin. 1. 24. c. I. Ixxxvi TO THE READER the Past y it justifies , and does honour to the Present Indus- try of our Dryadasque pudicas. Cum tua Cyrrhaeis sit Chelys apta modis ! Scilicet hoc cecinit numerosus Horatius olim y Scriptorum Silvam quod Chorus Omnis amat. Est locus ille Sacer Musis, & Apolline dignus^ Prima dedit summo Templa sacranda Jovi. Him quoque nunc Pontem Pontus non respuit ingens,, Stringitur Oceanus, corripiturque Salum. Him no^us Hesperiis emersit mundus in oris, * Effuditque auri flumina larga probi. Him exunda^eit distento Copia cornu, Qualem s? Amalthaeae non habuere sinus. Silva tibi curae est^ grata & Pomona refundit Auriferum^ roseum, purpureumque nemus. Ilia famemque sitimque abigens expirat odores, Quales nee Medus, nee tibi mittit Arabs. Ambrosiam praebent modo cocta Cydonia. Tantum Comprime, Nectareo Poma liquor e fluunt. Progredere^ O Saecli Cultor memorande futuri^ Felix Horticolam sic imitere Deum. 1 Gen. i. c. 2. Nobilissimo Viro yohanni Evelyno, Regalis Soc. Socio dignissimo. Ausus laudato qui quondam reddere versu, SEternum 5? tentare melos, conamine magno Lucreti nomenque suum donaverat aevo : Ilk leves atomos audaci pangere musa Aggreditur, variis & semina caeca figuris, Naturaeque vias : non qu)v. aSavarcov xyScrTOj er) vs^sXrjyspeTa Zewj, ' Ayy\nx.x.u>v o; apicrro; ey Ssos/xsAoj av^p, oj j.g'y' ovenxp . 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 Con- veniencies 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 Jiorere ignobilis oti (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 some- cviii THE GARDEN thing 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 Pin- darical 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 ad- vantagiously 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 THE GARDEN cix 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. i. 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 ex THE GARDEN 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. 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. 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. THE GARDEN cxi 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. 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. cxii THE GARDEN 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. 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, THE GARDEN cxiii And wealthy Hiram & 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 ; 15 cxiv THE GARDEN But 'tis the Country and the Field, That furnish it with Staff and Shield. 6. 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 S9metimes 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 THE GARDEN cxv 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 Ga/etea'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. ii. 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. Abraham Cow ley. DENDROLOGIA THE FIRST BOOK CHAPTER I. Of the Earth^ Soil, Seed, Air, and Water. i. It is not my intention here to speak of earth, as one of the common reputed elements ; of which I have long since publih'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 marie or loame, but not clammy ; of which I have particularly spoken in that Treatise. '2' SYLVA BOOK i 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-plant- ations of industrious persons are sufficient to convince the gain-sayer. And when by this husbandry a few CHAP, i S Y L V A 3 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, Gfc.) 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 com- mitted 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, incor- porated 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 here- with 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 per- petually crop'd with the same, or other seeds, without 4 S Y L V A BOOK i 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, Gfc. according to institution. 1 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. 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 1 Nam specimen sationis, & infitionis origo Ipsa fuit rerum primum natura creatrix : Arboribus quoniam baccae, glandesque caducae Tempestiva dabant pullorum examina subter, &c. Lucret. 1. 5. CHAP, i S Y L V A 5 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 pre- paratory magazines make as many, and as much lar- ger 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 exceeding- ly 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 6 S Y L V A BOOK i 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. xvm. 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, Gfc. 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 micro- scopical examen, to interpret their most secret schema- tismes, 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, Gfc. 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; CHAP, i S Y L V A 7 since even where the ground is too rertile, 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, Gfc. 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 promis- cuously, 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 8 S Y L V A BOOK i 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 promis- cuously 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, respira- tion, 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 vege- tables 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 submerged, 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 CHAP, i S Y L V A 9 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 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, 1 Fumefugium. i o S Y L V A BOOK i continually ascending, 'till (having sufficiently satu- rated 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 conse- quently 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 antiqua- ted 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 CHAP, i S Y L V A ii what it gives and contributes of necessary and con- stituent 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. 12 S YL V A BOOK i CHAPTER II. Of the Seminary and of Transplanting. i . Qui vineam^ ve/ arbustum constituere volet, seminaria prius facers debebit^ was the precept of Columella, i. 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 some- times 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 CHAP, ii S Y L V A 13 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 nourish- ment, often starve their neighbours. Thus much for the nursery and Conseminea Sifoa. 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 ; 1 He that for wood his field would sow, Must clear it of the shrubs that grow ; Cut brambles up, and the fern mow. 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, 1 Qui serere ingenuum volet agrum, Liberat prius arva fruticibus ; Falce rubos, filicemque resecat. Boeth. 1. 2. Met. 14 SYLVA BOOK i 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, Gfc., 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. 1 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. Proinde nemus sparsa cures de glande parandum : Sed tamen ante tuo mandes quatn semina campo ; Ipse tibi duro robustus vomere fossor Orane solum subigat late, explanetque subactum. Cumque novus fisso primum de genuine ramus Findit humum, rursus ferro versanda bicorni Consita vere novo tellus, cultuque frequenti Exercenda, herbae circum ne forte nocentes Proveniant, germenque ipsum radicibus urant. Nee cultu campum cunctantem urgere frequenti, Et saturare fimo pudeat, si forte resistat Culturae : nam tristis humus superanda colendo est. Rafinus, 1. 2. CHAP, ii S Y L V A 15 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 sptnosa, 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 (especi- ally 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. Tran- saction^ 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 16 SYLVA BOOK i 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 CHAP. n S YL V A 17 (if the kind, of which hereafter, suffer the knife) set them where they are to continue : If thus you reduce them o 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, fc. 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 1 8 S Y L V A BOOK i 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 J 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, CHAP, ii SYLVA 19 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 ceconomy 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 20 S Y L V A BOOK i 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, Gf 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. transplanting those which you find least agreeing with the place ; or else, by copsing the starvelings in 1 Quid quaeque ferat regio, & quid quaeque recuset. CHAP, ii SYLVA 21 the places where they are newly sown, cause them sometimes to overtake even their untouch'd contem- poraries. Something may here be expected about the fittest season for this work of transplanting ; of which having spoken in another l 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, be dispos'd at wider intervals, than the other, 1 Pomona. 22 S Y L V A BOOK 1 and such as grow best in consort, as the elm, ash, limetree, sycamore, firr, pine, Gfc. 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, arid 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 detri- ment : 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 contri- bute to the stability of our transplanted trees, some- thing is to be premis'd concerning their staking, and securing from external injuries, especially from winds and cattel ; against both which, such as are CHAP, ii SYLVA 23 planted in copses, and for ample woods, are suffi- ciently 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 affur'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 acquaint- ed 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, 24 S Y L V A BOOK i 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 Bartholo- mewtide ; 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 expe- dients 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 CHAP, ii S Y L V A 25 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 hurry 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 keep- ing 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 transplant- ation ; 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 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 1 For the transplanting and removing of full-grown forest-trees, and others. See Cap. III. Sect. 10. 26 S Y L V A BOOK i 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 understand- ing) ; 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 manage- ment, 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 CHAP, ii S Y L V A 27 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, fife, 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, fife, 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, fife, 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 pre- mis'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 28 S Y L V A BOOK i 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 terrce-filh, are what we call timber-trees, the chief subject of our following Discourse. Trees are likewise distinguish^ into other subor- dinate 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 propa- gated and planted out for a numerous store : And this, (being clad with a more tender bark or fiber) seems to differ thefrutex 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, Gfc. but not apt to decay so soon, after they have seeded ; whilst both these kinds seem also CHAP, ii S Y L V A 29 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, lachrymce, gums, and other exsudations, tho' diversi- fying 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 alto- gether 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 natural- ists. But besides this general definition, as to what is meant by trees, frutexes,