Mistletoe.
The Oak (Quercus robur), while perhaps our best-known indigenous tree, from its wealth of legendary, religious, and historic associations, has also been one of the favourite subjects of the ornamentist, being abundantly found in carving, stencilling, draperies, glass, &c., both in England and on the Continent,
Oak.
throughout the whole range of the Decorated and Perpendicular styles of Gothic, and the corresponding periods in France, Spain, and Germany, and also afterwards in the various modifications of the Renaissance. To refer at any length to the varied associations surrounding it would be foreign to our present purpose, though its sacred character in the Druidical rites of the ancient Britons, the importance of its timber for the purposes of the shipwright and architect, the commercial value of the bark for use in tanning, leading to the felling of thousands of trees every year, its use in medicine, the bark being a powerful astringent, and an infusion from the galls so frequently found upon the oak being an excellent antidote in cases of poisoning by the tartrate of antimony, are all points of interest or utility in connection with it. It has also been one of the favourite trees of the poets—Dryden, Pope, Cowper, Wordsworth, and many others, having referred to it in their writings; while to the artist the rugged majesty and vigour of the branches in winter, the brilliant bronze red of the early spring foliage, the deep mass of dark green leaves in summer-time, or the fiery glow it bears when touched by the frosts of advancing winter, render it at all times a beautiful and striking object in the landscape. The galls so generally met with upon the leaves of the oak are caused by a small insect, the Cynips Quercus-folii, which, by puncturing the leaf and laying an egg in the wound, causes a diseased and abnormal growth of the part: on cutting one of these galls open the grub will generally be found within. The galls chiefly used in medicine and commerce, though similar in their origin, are the work of another little insect on a different and foreign species of oak.
Though the oak is so familiar a tree in our woods and hedgerows, it must at one time, when England was extensively covered by forests, have been still more abundant. We are led to this conclusion from the great number of places whose names, handed down to us from our early history, derive their force and meaning from this abundance: thus Ockham, in Surrey, is literally Ocham, the place of oaks, a title which it still well deserves. Ockley, Acton, Acworth, and many more examples, might be cited. Superstition, too, with its usual fertility of invention, has not failed to detect the strange and marvellous in the oak. Of this, did space permit, and were it not somewhat foreign to our subject, we could quote many curious instances.
In the works of the ornamentist, to the best of our knowledge, the Q. robur form of the oak has been exclusively used. To give an extended list of the places where illustrations of its use in design occur would be to devote far more space to it than is really needful: as an example of its use in stonework, we would instance a small, but good capital at Ely, where one pleasing, natural, and ornamental feature, the empty cup of the acorn contrasting with the other forms, is very well introduced. We see this same attention to natural detail in some flowing foliage in a hollow moulding at Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster: the leaves are so deeply cut into lobes, and so modified in form, that except for the presence of the acorns, we should not recognise the foliage as being that of the oak at all. A very clear and good piece of oak is introduced in some wood-carvings at the ends of the stalls at Wells Cathedral; again, in crockets at Exeter, in the Lady Chapel; in a stone boss, St. Cuthbert’s screen, St. Alban’s Abbey Church; in wooden spandrels at Winchester, and Northfleet Church, Kent; as a diaper in glass quarries at Fulbourne and Waterbeach Churches, in Cambridgeshire; and as a carving at the arch-springing at Southwell Minster, Nottinghamshire. On the Continent, in Burgos Cathedral, we meet with several exceedingly beautiful carvings of the maple, plane, vine, and many other plants—among them a square panel filled with oak, and a very graceful running band of leaves and acorns round the tomb of Don Juan II.; and in Paris, in the Sainte Chapelle, we also find a hollow moulding filled with running oak foliage. In the South Kensington Museum many excellent fragments of wood-carving are preserved, and among these the oak is very often visible; while in the ceramic collection we frequently see the borders of the Majolica dishes and plates entirely composed of interlaced branches of oak. The oak is, in this latter series of examples, of heraldic significance as the badge of the Dukes of Urbino. Representations of the natural growth of the oak may be seen in E. B. 1288; M. B. 126; P. F. 9; S. C. 151; G. O. 95; T. N. O. 127.
Ox-eye Daisy (Chrysanthemum leucanthemum). The impressions we at once derive on seeing the natural plant are—first, the size and brilliant star-like character of the flowers, as we view it growing amidst the long grass; secondly, the beautiful contrast of form, colour, and light and shade between the deep yellow, convex central portion and the brilliant white and concave rays surrounding it; and thirdly, the comparative smallness and insignificance of the leaves: hence it appears to us that in any adaptation of the plant to the purposes of the designer, these are salient points to be observed. We find it growing very freely in meadows, on the sunny side of railway banks, &c., and, where found at all, generally in great profusion. During the past summer, by the side of the river Wey, we came across a plant that had firmly established itself, and was growing and flowering in full health and vigour in the crown of a pollard willow tree, about eight feet from the ground. It is one of the plants regarded by the farmer with dislike, as it generally indicates great dryness of soil, and,
