2d, Prepare the site a year previous, by trenching and manuring with compost, carefully mixing and blending the whole (the upper and lower earth of the soil and compost), and adding mould when the soil is shallow; attending to thicken and mix clay soil with sandy mould, and sand soil with clayey mould, also guarding against lodgment of water. Recent farm-yard dung, peat-moss, and quick-lime, when well compounded together, make an excellent compost manure.
3d, Commence extricating your trees by opening a deep trench at the extremities of the roots, undermining a little inward, and gradually severing the {251} earth from the rootlets, by stirring, scraping, and shaking with a very light pick, at the same time throwing the separated earth out of the hole, and working inward with the shovel underneath the bared rootlets, till the tree is so far loosened as to be upset by pulling on a rope fixed near the top, the rootlets, as extricated, being bundled up so as to be as much out of the way of injury as possible. Now, throw some earth into the hole; re-elevate the tree upon this earth, and upset it in the contrary direction; continue to throw in earth, elevate and upset in the contrary direction, till the bottom of the root be nearly on a level with the surface of the ground. Procure a large two wheeled wood-drag, and wheel it backward close to the standing tree. Elevate the pole of this drag, and tie it firmly aloft to the stoutest and most convenient part of the top. Make the body of the tree near the root fast to the axle, or to a beam raised a little above the axle, a pad intervening between the axle or beam and body of the tree, to prevent injury to the bark; then by pulling down upon the top of the pole, upset the tree upon the drag, balancing as near as possible upon the axle. All being now in readiness, attach your horses to the reverse end of the drag, where the root is swung, and have your plant pulled {252} backward to its new berth, and deposit it carefully there, without any top-pruning, having its heaviest branches towards the west, that it may the better withstand our prevailing winds, taking great care to divide and comb out all the rootlets, and to pack in the fine prepared mould, so as to separate them nearly in the order they formerly occupied. Then sad down the whole by beating or watering, and mulch over all to exclude the drought.
4th, Water every two or three days in dry weather, during the early part of the first summer, and continue for several years to work over the surface of the ground by repeated hoeing or otherwise, till the tree has forgotten her rough treatment, and has become reconciled to her new quarters.
Now, this is Sir Henry’s practice. What is there here meriting the name of discovery? All the world knew long ago, that trees drawn up tall and delicate, in sheltered situations, were unfit for an open exposure, especially when of considerable size. We have ourselves dug trenches round trees, and picked the earth from the rootlets with pointed instruments, preserving as far as possible every fibre entire. We have often collected fine mould and composts upon the ground previous to planting, and trenched over the soil; we have carefully arranged the {253} rootlets, and packed in our prepared mould; we have noticed that mutilating the top of certain kinds of trees was very pernicious, particularly of the beech and the oak; we have invariably turned round the heaviest branches to the west; we have mulched and watered the first summer, and have hoed around the plants for years afterwards; conveyance by a two-wheeled timber-drag has been long in use (we have employed the axle and wheels of a common cart); many, before Sir Henry, have prepared the roots by previous cutting; what planter of experience is ignorant of all this? We grant Sir Henry has done all this well; much of it must have occurred to himself, as it has done to us, as it will do to any person of ordinary acuteness and observation, but does this merit the name of discovery, or comparison with steam and gas?
We shall now give some little attention to a subject on which we consider Sir Henry’s claim to the rank of philosophic discoverer solely rests, and which he introduces to our notice certainly with sufficient prefatory flourish, under the designation of his “new principle,” “his rational theory,” which he predicts will raise transplanting of trees of considerable size to the rank of a useful art, it being thus founded on fixed principles. In order to bring the matter fairly {254} before the mind of our readers, we are under the necessity of having recourse to a long quotation. We fear our readers will find Sir Henry’s metaphysics not very intelligible; but this may well be forgiven, we are all too guilty of plunging about when we get into deep water, and some of us have not always sense enough to swim with the stream.
We here introduce a quotation of our author:
“But while every organic creation tends to full development, that is, to absolute energy, or perfect life, still we find, that the organs of which it is composed are each reciprocally dependent on every other, for the possibility and degree of their peculiar action. At the same time, as these internal conditions of animated existence are severally dependent on certain external conditions, which, again, are not always fully and equally supplied; so it follows, that the life of every organized being is determined in its amount, and in the direction of its development, by the outward circumstances of its individual situation. For this reason, we see that every animal, and every plant, is dependent for its existence, and also for its perfect existence, on conditions both internal and external.
“From this reasoning it may be conceived, how the several parts of the living whole reciprocally act and react. They are, in fact, cause and effect {255} mutually; and no one can precede another, either in the order of nature, or of time. Thus, in an animal, the digestive, and the absorbent, the sanguineous, the respiratory, and the nervous systems are at once relative and correlative. In like manner, in a plant, the same reciprocal proportion is found to hold between the roots and the stem, the branches and the leaves: Each modifies and determines the existence of all the others, and is equally affected by all in its turn. And as their several parts, by means of their union, constitute the organic whole; and as their functions, by the same means, realize the complement of life, which the plant or animal exhibits; it is evident, that every living individual is a necessary system, in which no one part can be affected, without affecting the other parts, and throughout which there reigns an intimate sympathy, and a complete harmony of perfection and imperfection.
“Further; The external conditions of this internal development of plants and animals, are Food, Air, and Heat; while Light seems to be a peculiar condition, indispensably necessary to plants. Where any one of these conditions is not supplied, the existence of life, whether animal or vegetable, becomes impossible; where it is insufficiently supplied, life is {256} proportionally enfeebled or repressed. But, to limit our consideration to the vegetable kingdom, it may be observed, that where a loose and deep soil affords an abundant supply of food, where a genial climate diffuses warmth in an adequate degree, and where a favourable exposure allows a competent access of light (for air, being fully and universally given, may be thrown out of the case); in these circumstances, a plant, if not mechanically injured, will vigorously exercise its functions, and attain the full development of its parts, thus realizing the absolute complement of life, to which it naturally tends. In the same way, when these conditions are stinted, the luxuriance of the plant is checked, in the ratio of that restraint, and the deficiency of the supply. Where any one of the external conditions is partially or inadequately supplied, the plant appears to make special, and even forced efforts to secure as much of the beneficial influence as it can, and to accommodate itself to the exigency of its situation. Thus, where light is admitted only from a single point, a plant concentrates all its powers, in stretching towards the direction of the light. Where light is shed all around, the plant throws out its branches on every side. In conformity with this principle, we find, that, in the interior of a wood, where the Trees {257} mutually impede the lateral admission of light, the tendency of each is upwards; and the consequence of this tendency is, that the plant is thereby not developed in its natural and perfect proportions, but is elongated, or drawn up to an undue height. It displays its ramification chiefly near the top; while the imperfection of its life is manifested in the whole character of its vegetation. In open exposures, on the other hand, the tree developes its existence, in full health and luxuriance. It reaches a height, such as the soil and situation admit, and sufficient to allow the branches, which are thrown out on every side, to expand their leaves freely to the sun. Not being compelled to concentrate its efforts, in securing a scanty supply of one beneficial influence, all its proportions are absolute and universal, not relative and particular. In such circumstances, therefore, it may be considered as in a full and natural state of perfection.
“Another condition of vegetable life appears to be an adequate degree of Heat. Within a certain range of temperature, vegetation is positively promoted: Below, or above a certain point (the degree differing in different species of plants), vegetation is positively checked. To speak only of the latter case, which is briefly expressed by the term {258} Cold, it is either produced by absolute lowness of temperature, or, in particular circumstances, by the generation of cold, through the effect of wind, and consequent evaporation from a moist surface; for trees, in themselves, have but little self-generated heat, above the surrounding temperature. Some they certainly possess, otherwise they would be killed during severe frosts. Of the above accidents nature can modify the former, by accommodating different species of plants to different latitudes and elevations: Against the latter she adopts the plan of affording suitable protection to the individual. In the interior of woods, where the free current of air is intercepted, where stillness and serenity are maintained, and where each tree affords shelter, more or less, to every other, nature has little need to generate the provisions necessary to mitigate the injurious effects of evaporation. But, in open exposures, and in the case of isolated trees, this effect must be assuaged, and is, in fact, to a certain extent alleviated, by various provisions or properties, bestowed upon the tree itself. In the first place, a thicker and closer ramification of the sides and top is supplied, and a more abundant spray towards the stormy quarter, thereby furnishing a kind of clothing of leaves, in order to protect from cold both the {259} ascending and the descending sap-vessels: And, secondly, a greater induration of the epidermis, and thickness of the cortical layers of the bark are provided; which, forming a bad conductor of heat, act as a still more effectual defence to the stem, by preventing the immediate and powerful application of cold, through the sudden subtraction of caloric, from the proper vessels of the inner bark.
“In this economy, nature only follows the analogy which she displays in modifying the influence of cold upon the animal kingdom. The quadrupeds, which are destined to encounter the severity of an Arctic winter, are provided with thick and shaggy coats, to enable them to withstand the intensity of the cold; and all the richest furs, which man employs to supply his natural, or rather his artificial wants, are always furnished by animals inhabiting the highest latitudes, and killed during the severest frosts. What is still more illustrative of the point under consideration is, that the coats of animals, of which the thin and short hair is familiar to us in the temperate climates, such as the dog, the fox, and the ox, are all remarkable, under the polar regions, for their close, lengthened, and almost impenetrable fibre, as a secure barrier of non-conducting matter, to prevent the escape of their vital heat. {260}
“In like manner, in all the other relations, we see Nature especially accommodating the character of each individual plant, to the exigencies of its particular situation. In the interior of woods, the wind can exert a far less mechanical effect on individual trees; and therefore, while they are positively determined to push upwards towards the light, they are negatively permitted to do so, by the removal of any necessity to thicken their trunks, for the sake of greater strength, and to contract the height of them, in order to afford the blast a shorter lever against the roots. But, with trees in an open situation, all this is widely different. There they are freely exposed to the wind, and the large expansion of their branches, gives every advantage to the violence of the storm. Nature, accordingly, bestows greater proportional thickness, and less proportional elevation on trees, which are isolated, or nearly so; while their system of root, which, by necessity, is correlatively proportional to their system of top, affords likewise heavier ballast, and a stronger anchorage, in order to counteract the greater spread of sail, displayed in the wider expansion of the branches.
“Every individual tree is thus a beautiful system of qualities, specially relative to the place which it holds in creation; of provisions admirably {261} accommodated to the peculiar circumstances of its case. Here every thing is necessary; nothing is redundant. In the words of a great philosopher, who was an accurate observer of nature, ‘Where the necessity is obviated, the remedy, by consequence, is withdrawn.’ If these facts and reasonings be correctly stated, the only rational theory of the removal of large trees consists, in prospectively maintaining the same harmony between the existing provisions of the tree, and the exigencies of its new situation, as had previously subsisted between its relative properties and the circumstances of its former site.”
“In considering the characteristics of trees above mentioned, we should always bear in mind, that every production of nature is an end to itself, and that every part of it is, at once, end and mean. Of trees in open exposures we find, that their peculiar properties contribute, in a remarkable manner, to their health and prosperity. In the first place, their shortness and greater girth of stem, in contradistinction to others in the interior of woods, are obviously intended to give to the former greater strength to resist the winds, and a shorter lever to act upon the roots; Secondly, their larger heads, with spreading branches, in consequence of the free access of light, are formed as plainly for the nourishment, as well as {262} the balancing of so large a trunk, and also for furnishing a cover to shield it from the elements; Thirdly, their superior thickness and induration of bark is, in like manner, bestowed for the protection of the sap-vessels that lie immediately under it, and which, without such defence from cold, could not perform their functions; Fourthly, their greater number and variety of roots are for the double purpose of nourishment and strength; nourishment to support a mass of such magnitude, and strength to contend with the fury of the blast.”
“On the other hand, in the interior of woods, a universal tendency, for the reasons already stated, is observable in trees, to rise to the light, to attain greater altitude, to form far smaller heads, and taller, slenderer, and more elegant stems. Here is found a milder and more genial climate; in which, by means of the calm generated by shelter, vegetation is not checked by cold, and, at the same time, is undisturbed by the external impediment of wind; and nature has no need, as in the case of exposures, to generate provisions necessary to mitigate the effect of evaporation, as has been above observed, or to endue each individual tree with distinct and appropriate means of defence against the elements.”
“That, as the four protecting properties, {263} already delineated, as belonging to trees in open situations, are essential and necessary to the vigorous development of their existence, so they may be set down as indispensable prerequisites for those intended for transplantation, which generally implies increased exposure; and that soil and climate being equal, such subjects will succeed the best as are endued in the greatest degree with those prerequisites or properties.”
“If we adopt this principle, and follow it up with a judicious mode of execution, it seems evident that the necessity of defacing or mutilating the fine tops of trees will be entirely superseded. We shall obtain at once, what the art, as hitherto practised, has not been able to obtain for us, the Immediate and Full effect of Wood, that is, Trees complete and perfect in all their parts, without the loss of the time required to replace the parts so defaced and mutilated.”—“And if such a mode of execution be superinduced upon it, as shall furnish to the tree a competent supply of sap at the critical period of removal, the art probably may be said to be established on fixed principles.”
“Wind being, in a great degree, excluded in unthinned plantation, and evaporation prevented, heat is, by consequence, generated in an undue degree. {264} In the same way, light is nearly shut out from such plantations, except from the top, and a disproportionate elongation of the stem is occasioned by the efforts which each individual makes to gain the light.” P. 191.
Now, what do we gather from all these discoveries which, in continuation, our author turns round and round, and exhibits to us under every combination, with admirable elegance, it must be allowed, like the objects in a kaleidoscope?—that trees grown in sheltered situation are not suited for exposed situation, because their roots are proportionally too small, and the stem too long for stability under the strain of high winds; their exterior bark or epidermis, dead and living, too thin to afford protection to the sap-vessels from cold, the effect of evaporation caused by the wind; their spray and leaves too elevated and open to exclude the cold, or wind generating cold, from the stem and branches. That the reverse coexistent conditions of trees in open situation—short stout stem, thick bark dead and living, strong rooting, close cover of spray and leaves all around, befitting the plant to withstand the tempest, and affording shelter to the sap-vessels of the stem and branches—and these conditions being {265} wanting when redundant in sheltered situation, show the beautiful adaptation of means to end, like warm fur of animals in cold countries: That trees being formed to grow tall in close situation, is a beneficent provision of Providence for accommodating man with straight long clean deal and beams: That trees shoot tall in close situation because they strain hard to reach the light: That trees shoot tall in close situation from warmth: That shelter and exposure is heat and cold: That, “to establish any just analogy between the transplanting of young and of old trees is utterly impossible:” That these conditions of trees being thus explained to mankind, and followed up by judicious execution, the thing is reduced to fixed principles, and raised to the rank of an useful art, and the necessity of defacing, or mutilating, the fine tops of trees, when transplanted, entirely superseded.
We shall now attempt to weigh some of these assertions and conclusions of Sir Henry, and to pursue these inquiries a little farther.
It is known to every forester, that trees growing in close order, and drawn up tall, will not continue healthy on being thinned out to very open arrangement, but will often fall victims to the change of circumstances, even though they withstand the gale. Who, then, would be guilty of the folly of expecting {266} they would bear exposure and the injuries of transplanting at the same time? Sir Henry Steuart mentions some particular facts as causes of this unsuitableness. Perhaps it would have been as well to ascribe it to general inaptitude and delicacy, as there are several other circumstances not easily understood, such as vital stamina, habitude or acclimatizing, and texture and configuration of vessels, which must have influence. We should also think simple evaporation of the fluids of the transplanted tree a much greater cause of its failure than the cold of this or of any other evaporation acting to numb the sap-vessels in the stem and branches. The absorbing mouths of the rootlets, excepting in the case of very large balls, are generally destroyed by the operation of removal; and the development of the leaves to a certain extent taking place before any new process of striking of the roots, owing to the atmosphere and branches getting sooner heated in spring than the ground and roots, the half-developed leaves shrivel up in the arid spring air, from the evaporation of the juices and deficiency of root-suction; and when the air gets moist, showers fall, and the earth becomes warm enough for the striking of the roots, the vital principle is too far spent, or the material substance too much changed, for the {267} recommencement of organic action. We have found that trees which had remained months out of ground, and were planted in March, succeed better than trees removed immediately from their old site to their new, both being planted with equal care in the same ground at the same time. The latter acquired half developed leaves early in April, which withered from deficiency of root-suction; and it was only with attention that we succeeded in causing them to bud forth anew and acquire leaves about midsummer; in several, we stimulated the root-suction by application of heated water, covering up with litter to retain the heat. The former were several weeks more backward in leafing, and when the buds burst, the ground had become warm enough for root-striking, and the vegetation proceeded without check. Sir Henry will say, that the check sustained by those which leafed early, was owing to the numbing effect of the cold spring wind, and of the cold of evaporation on the sap-vessels of the stem; but we had caused several of them to be wrapped round the stem with soft straw-ropes, and this did not prevent the shrivelling of the leaves, although it certainly protected the sap-vessels from the cold. This withering of the leaves of transplanted trees, by which large transplanted trees so {268} frequently perish, is most prevalent in cold damp soils, when the air is dry and the sun powerful, and evidently results from the superior vegetation being in advance of the inferior; torpor of the roots, not torpor of the sap-vessels of the stem from cold. It is also perfectly evident, that trees with long naked stems will suffer most, as their leaves are raised higher, more in the current of the drying wind; their root and top farther asunder, therefore less liable to contemporaneous impulse; the sap-vessels of the stem longer and more attenuated, therefore the streams of fluids from the soil, not only smaller, but also more liable to obstruction, or to flow slowly, from the insufficiency of the vital impulse, or of endosmose in the wounded sickly plant to impel to such a height. Our author’s assertion, that the rough epidermis generally covering the live bark of trees in open situations, is necessary to the health of the tree, in protecting the sap-vessels from cold, is, we think, not quite correct. Some time ago we caused the dead epidermis be hewn down from several trees, in a rather exposed situation. This was done with considerable nicety, and extending up along the branches. We remember of one case, of very thick indurated epidermis, where a carpenter was employed more than a day in laying bare the live bark of one tree. {269} Instead of suffering injury by this exposure of the sap-vessels to cold, the trees rather acquired new vigour from the operation; and the particular tree alluded to, was unusually luxuriant the season following this flaying, which was performed in winter. Now, to apply Sir Henry’s analogy of fur of animals, would an arctic fox have been benefited by exposure to the winter’s cold in like plight? We also think Sir Henry will find the trees of dry climates have a much thicker coating of dead bark than in cold countries, evidently a consequence of desiccation[51], and, if Sir Henry must have animal analogy—similar to the desiccation and cracking of the skin of man in arid air. {270}