The Natural History of Pliny, Volume 3 (of 6)

by the Elder Pliny

We have described the trees which grow spontaneously on land and in the sea,[2802] and it now remains for us to speak of those which owe their formation, properly speaking, rather than birth, to art and the inventive genius of man.[2803] Here, however, I cannot but express my surprise, that after the state of penury in which man lived, as already described,[2804] in primitive times, holding the trees of the forest in common with the wild beasts, and disputing with them the possession of the fruits that fell, and with the fowls of the air that of the fruits as they hung on the tree, luxury has now attached to them prices so enormous.

The most famous instance, in my opinion, of this excess, was that displayed by L. Crassus and Cneius Domitius Ahenobarbus. Crassus was one of the most celebrated of the Roman orators; his house was remarkable for its magnificence, though in some measure surpassed even by that of Q. Catulus,[2805] also upon the Palatine Hill; the same Catulus, who, in conjunction with C. Marius, defeated the Cimbri. But by far the finest house of all that period, it was universally acknowledged, was that of C. Aquilius, a Roman of Equestrian rank, situate upon the Viminal Hill; a house, indeed, that conferred a greater degree of celebrity upon him than even his acquaintance with the civil law. This, however, did not prevent Crassus being reproached with the magnificence of his. Crassus and Domitius, members, both of them, of the most illustrious families, after holding the consulship,[2806] were appointed jointly to the censorship, in the year from the building of the City 662, a period of office that was fruitful in strife, the natural result of their dissimilarity of character. On one occasion, Cneius Domitius, naturally a man of hasty temper, and inflamed besides by a hatred that rivalry only tends to stimulate, gravely rebuked Crassus for living, and he a Censor too, in a style of such magnificence, and in a house for which, as he said, he himself would be ready to pay down ten millions of sesterces. Crassus, a man who united to singular presence of mind great readiness of wit, made answer that, deducting six trees only, he would accept the offer; upon which Domitius replied, that upon those terms he would not give so much as a single denarius for the purchase. “Well then, Domitius,” was the rejoinder of Crassus, “which of the two is it that sets a bad example, and deserves the reproof of the censorship; I, who live like a plain man in a house that has come to me by inheritance, or you, who estimate six trees at a value of ten millions of sesterces?”[2807] These trees were of the lotus[2808] kind, and by the exuberance of their branches afforded a most delightful shade. Cæcina Largus, one of the grandees of Rome, and the owner of the house, used often to point them out to me in my younger days; and, as I have already made mention[2809] of the remarkable longevity of trees, I would here add, that they were in existence down to the period when the Emperor Nero set fire to the City, one hundred and eighty years after the time of Crassus; being still green and with all the freshness of youth upon them, had not that prince thought fit to hasten the death of the very trees even.

Let no one, however, imagine that the house of Crassus was of no value in other respects, or that, from the rebuke of Domitius, there was nothing about it worthy of remark with the exception of these trees. There were to be seen erected in the atrium four columns of marble from Mount Hymettus,[2809] which in his ædileship he had ordered to be brought over for the decoration of the stage;[2810] and this at a time, too, when no public buildings even as yet possessed any pillars made of that material. Of such recent date is the luxury and opulence which we now enjoy, and so much greater was the value which in those days trees were supposed to confer upon a property! A pretty good proof of which, was the fact that Domitius even, with all his enmity, would not keep to the offer he had made, if the trees were not to be included in the bargain.

The trees have furnished surnames also to the ancients,[2811] such, for instance, as that of Fronditius to the warrior who swam across the Volturnus with a wreath of leaves on his head, and distinguished himself by his famous exploits in the war against Hannibal; and that of Stolo[2812] to the Licinian family, such being the name given by us to the useless suckers that shoot from trees; the best method of clearing away these shoots was discovered by the first Stolo, and hence his name. The ancient laws also took the trees under their protection; and by the Twelve Tables it was enacted, that he who should wrongfully cut down trees belonging to another person, should pay twenty-five asses for each. Is it possible then to imagine that they, who estimated the fruit-trees at so low a rate as this, could ever have supposed that so exorbitant a value would be put upon the lotus as that which I have just mentioned? And no less marvellous, too, are the changes that have taken place in the value of fruit; for at the present day we find the fruit alone of many of the trees in the suburbs valued at no less a sum than two thousand sesterces; the profits derived from a single tree thus being more than those of a whole estate in former times. It was from motives of gain that the grafting of trees and the propagation thereby of a spurious offspring was first devised, so that the growth of the fruits even might be a thing interdicted to the poor. We shall, therefore, now proceed to state in what way it is that such vast revenues are derived from these trees, and with that object shall set forth the true and most approved methods of cultivation; not taking any notice of the more common methods, or those which we find generally adopted, but considering only those points of doubt and uncertainty, in relation to which practical men are most apt to find themselves at a loss: while, at the same time, to affect any scrupulous exactness in cases where there is no necessity for it, will be no part of our purpose. In the first place, however, we will consider in a general point of view, those influences of soil as well as weather which are exercised upon all the trees in common.

CHAP. 2. (2.)—THE INFLUENCE OF WEATHER UPON THE TREES: WHAT IS THE PROPER SITUATION FOR THE VINE.

Trees are fond of a site more particularly that faces the north-east;[2813] the breezes rendering their foliage more thick and exuberant, and imparting additional solidity to the wood. This is a point, however, upon which most people are very greatly deceived; thus in vineyards, for instance, the props ought not to be placed in such a position as to shelter the stems from the wind in that quarter, it being only against the northern blasts that this precaution should be taken. Nay, even more than this—if the cold weather only comes on in due season, it contributes very materially to the strengthening of the trees, and promotes the process of germination; while, on the other hand, if at that period the southern[2814] breezes should caress them, they will grow weak and languid, and more particularly so, if the blossom is just coming on. If rainy weather, too, should happen to follow close upon blossoming, the total destruction of the fruit is the necessary result: indeed, if the weather should be only cloudy, or south winds happen to prevail, it is quite sufficient to ensure the loss of the fruit in the almond and the pear.[2815] Rains, if prevalent about the rising of the Vergiliæ,[2816] are most injurious to the vine and the olive,[2817] as it is at that season that germination[2818] is commencing with them; indeed, this is a most critical four days for the olive, being the period at which the south wind, as we have already[2819] stated, brings on its dark and lowering clouds. The cereals, too, ripen more unfavourably when south winds prevail, though at the same time it proceeds with greater rapidity. All cold, too, is injurious to vegetation, which comes with the northern winds, or out of the proper season. It is most advantageous to all plants for north-east winds[2820] to prevail throughout the winter.

In this season, too, showers are very necessary, and the reason is self-evident—the trees, being exhausted by the fruit they have borne, and weakened by the loss of their leaves, are, of course, famished and hungry; and it is the showers that constitute their aliment. Experience has led us to believe that there is nothing more detrimental than a warm winter; for it allows the trees, the moment they have parted with their fruits, to conceive again, or, in other words, to germinate, and then exhaust themselves by blossoming afresh. And what is even worse than this, should there be several years of such weather in succession, even the trees themselves will die; for there can be little doubt that the effort must of necessity be injurious, when they put forth their strength, and are at the same time deprived of their natural sustenance. The poet[2821] then, who has said that serene winters are to be desired, certainly did not express those wishes in favour of the trees. And no more does rain, if prevalent at the summer-solstice, conduce to the benefit[2822] of the vine: while, at the same time, to say that a dusty winter produces a luxuriant harvest, is certainly the mistake of a too fertile imagination. It is a thing greatly to be wished, too, both in behalf of the trees as well as the cereals, that the snows should lie for a considerable time upon the ground; the reason being that they check the escape of the spirit of the earth by evaporation, and tend to throw it back again upon the roots of the plants, adding greatly to their strength thereby; and not only this, but they afford a gradual supply of moisture as well, that is both pure and of remarkable lightness, from the fact that snow is only the foam of the waters of heaven. Hence it is that the moisture of snow does not drench and engulph everything all at once, but gradually trickles downwards, in proportion to the thirst of the plant, nurturing it as though from the breast, instead of producing an inundation. The earth, too, ferments under this influence, and becomes filled with her own emanations: not exhausted by the seeds in her bosom, swollen as they are with milk,[2823] she smiles in the warm and balmy hours, when the time comes for opening it. It is in this way, more particularly, that corn fattens apace, except, indeed, in those climates in which the atmosphere is always warm, Egypt for example; for there the continuance of the same temperature and the force of habit are productive of the same effects as the modifications of temperature in other countries.

At the same time it is equally necessary in every climate that there should be no noxious influence in existence. Thus, for instance, in the greater part of the world, that precocious germination which has been encouraged by the indulgent temperature of the weather, is sure to be nipped by the intense colds that ensue. Hence it is that late winters are so injurious, and such they prove to the trees of the forest even; indeed, these last are more particularly exposed to the ill effects of a late winter, oppressed as they are by the density of their foliage, and human agency being unable to succour them; for it would be quite impossible to cover[2824] the more tender forest trees with wisps of straw. Rains, then, are favourable to vegetation—first of all, during the winter season, and next, just previously to germination; the third period for them being that of the formation of the fruit, though not immediately, and only, in fact, when the produce of the tree shows itself strong and healthy.

Those trees which are the slowest in bringing their fruits to maturity, and require a more prolonged supply of nutriment, receive benefit also from late rains, such as the vine, the olive, and the pomegranate, for instance. These rains, however, are required at different seasons by the different trees, some of them coming to maturity at one period and some at another; hence it is that we see the very same rain productive of injury to some trees and beneficial to others, even when they are of the very same species, as in the pear for instance: for the winter pear stands in need of rain at one period, and the early pear at another, though at the same time they, all of them, require it in an equal degree. Winter precedes the period of germination, and it is this fact that makes the north-east wind more beneficial than the south, and renders the parts that lie in the interior preferable to those near the coast,—the former being generally the coldest,—mountainous districts better than level ones, and rain at night better than showers in the day. Vegetation, too, receives a greater degree of benefit from the water when the sun does not immediately soak it up.