When a green by-road passes over a wet meadow and crosses a brook under a natural arch formed by overhanging alders fastened together by creeping vines, the shade afforded by this arbor is greatly heightened by a twining canopy of clematis, or virgin’s bower, climbing over the trees and shrubs, always keeping on the outer surface, and supporting itself by tendrils. We often pass through copses of shrubbery completely overspread by this vine, rendered conspicuous when in fruit by multitudes of little silken and feathery tufts, which are far more beautiful than its flowers. There is not much beauty in this plant, and I attribute the interest attached to it chiefly to its poetical name and the romantic history of the European virgin’s bower.
THE CHESTNUT.
Many admirers of trees place the Chestnut before the oak because it is a taller tree with a proportional spread and denser foliage. A remarkable peculiarity in the style of its foliage is its radiated tufts, giving it a similar appearance to that which is so apparent in the horse-chestnut. But we observe an important difference between the two,—while the radiated tufts of the horse-chestnut are distinctly separated by spaces, those of the Chestnut seem to be involved in a general and more indistinct mass of foliage. A notion prevails in some parts of Europe, that this tree should not be planted near dwelling-houses, “because the flowers emit a powerful and disagreeable odor, which is offensive to most people.” I have not observed any such odor from the American Chestnut.
In general form and proportions there seems to be no specific difference between the English and the American chestnuts. On this continent it is a majestic tree, remarkable for the breadth and depth of its shade; but it is seldom cultivated by roadsides. It displays many of the superficial characters of the red oak, so that in winter we cannot readily distinguish them. The foliage bears some resemblance to that of the beech, but displays more variety. The leaves are long, lengthened to a tapering point, and of a bright and nearly pure green. Though arranged alternately, like those of the beech, on the recent branches, they are clustered in stars, containing from five to seven leaves, on the fruitful branches, that grow out from the perfected wood. When the tree is viewed from a moderate distance, the whole mass seems to consist of tufts, each containing several long pointed leaves, drooping divergently from a common centre. From this centre the aments of the male flowers come out in a similar way; and their bright silvery green, glistening upon a mass of darker foliage, always attracts attention at the time of flowering.
The Chestnut is ranked among the largest of our forest trees, sometimes in favorable situations attaining a height of nearly eighty feet. When growing isolated on a plain, its diameter is sometimes equal to its height. The Chestnut has a rather loose ramification, being in this respect inferior to the red oak, which it resembles. Its larger branches are numerous, but the spray is coarse, the terminal branches being fewer and more straggling than those of the oak. This tree is therefore not comparable in beauty with the oak when divested of its leaves. The Chestnut is a classical tree, being mentioned very frequently in the works of the Greek and Roman poets, who were familiar with it.
THE HICKORY.
The Hickory, including several species, is very generally distributed over this continent, but is found in no other part of the world. It is distinguished from the walnut by its foliage and general habit of growth, by the smaller number of leaflets on the leaf-stem, and by their darker color and firmer texture. The aments of the Hickory are in threes, and the outer shell of the fruit opens at four angles when it is ripe; the aments of the walnut are single, and the outer shell of the nut is undivided. The two trees differ also in their general appearance. The Hickory rises to a greater proportional height, with less length and spread of the branches, the lower ones being higher from the root of the tree and smaller than those of the walnut. Many of the trees are flattened at the top, and take a cylindrical form, when they approach to any regularity; but their outlines are more frequently irregular, displaying frequent gaps, and presenting several distinct masses of foliage.
The Hickory, therefore, when full-grown, has seldom much elegance, and little of the beauty of grace and symmetry. Its picturesque qualities are its sturdy habit, its great height, its dense and dark green foliage, its approach to a cylindrical shape, and its general eccentricity of growth. I have never seen a Hickory with long spreading branches like those of the butternut, nor with neat and prim foliage like that of the ash. The different species are so common in all the southern parts of New England as to form a notable arboreal feature of our landscape. In Massachusetts we see them following the lines of the old stone-walls, having come up from nuts planted by squirrels on the strip of land around the borders of the fields. We are indebted to this fortunate circumstance for thousands of beautiful and valuable trees, which, but for this narrow border of neglected land, would not have been allowed to “cumber the ground.” The trees that originated in these borders had ample room to expand, assume their normal shape, and acquire their full dimensions; and as we see them running upwards with but little width, we may consider this to be their natural style of growth.
Hickories are abundant on fertile slopes, near brooksides, and on rocky hills that abound in clay and yellow loam. They do not prosper on light, sandy soils, and are not found in bogs. They are even a better indication of a fertile soil than the oak. The shellbark alone drops its leaves before they are tinted in the autumn. The most remarkable species in New England are the shellbark, the fignut, the white hickory, and the bitternut. These four have nearly the same outward characters. They are, indeed, so much alike that the shellbark alone is readily distinguished by the exfoliation of the outer rind of its bark as soon as it has come to fruit-bearing. The bark of the other three species is channelled or furrowed, like that of the ash. The fruit of the fignut is fig-shaped; and as the epithet ficiformis was very early applied to this species, it is evident that the vulgar name of pignut is a corruption of the true name, which ought to be restored.
Had the old painters been acquainted with the Hickory, they would have admired it beyond most other trees. The peculiarities of its shape are remarkable. The breaks in its foliage cause that variety and irregularity of outline which are generally regarded as picturesque qualities. I see, while I am writing, directly before my window, a tall Hickory, standing on an elevation that makes the sky its only background. It is tall and narrow in its shape, and its head is divided into five distinct masses of foliage, separated by a considerable opening. Two of these masses are on the right, and three on the left, the highest making a flattened top, projecting over the right side, and hanging down in a large flowing mass. Yet this tree is perfectly normal in its proportions, for I can discover no marks of mutilation in any part of it.