The Eglantine is the poetical name of one of the most charming species of rose, generally known in this country as the Sweetbrier, noted for its scented foliage and its multitude of thorns. This species seems to occupy a mean between the tree-roses and the climbers. It often mounts to a considerable height, supporting its position by its thorns. I have seen a Sweetbrier growing wild upon a juniper to the height of fifteen feet, and covering the whole tree. The flowers are small and of a pale crimson, having less sweetness than the common rose. The American Sweetbrier has paler flowers and a smaller leaf; the English plant has larger flowers of a deeper color, and more luxuriant foliage. The American species, however, attains the greater height; it is more fragrant, and more abundant in flowers.
THE SWAMP ROSE.
There is not a sweeter or more beautiful plant, in its native fields, than the common Wild Rose of our meadows. It flowers early in June, clustering in all wild pastures and in all neglected fields, forming beautiful spontaneous hedge-rows by the sides of fences, and groups and beds of shrubbery in all wild lands. The Swamp Rose varies in height, according to the quality of the soil it occupies. I have seen it from four to five feet in height on the alluvial borders of streams, while in uplands it seldom exceeds two feet. This shrub has a fine glossy pinnate foliage, and flowers of a deep crimson, somewhat larger than those of the sweetbrier. Occasionally a variety is seen with white flowers. The Wild Rose is very common near footpaths through the fields, forming natural clumps, often extending into the enclosures of some rustic cottage. In winter it is easily recognized by the fine purple hue of its smaller branches.
But this shrub finds no favor except from the lovers of nature. I have seen men employed in “grubbing up” the Wild Rose-bushes that skirted the lanes extending from their enclosures to an adjoining wood. A similar vandalism causes them to whitewash their stone-walls and the trunks of shade-trees, as if beauty consisted in a gloss of art spread over all the works of nature. If we were to carry out the idea of these improvers, we should destroy every wilding in the borders of our fields, and plant florists’ flowers in spots of spaded earth cut out of the turf. It is fashion alone that causes the florists’ roses to be admired more than the wild roses of the fields and brooksides. They are, it is true, more splendid and full. But who would be pleased to find these petted favorites of gardeners in the rustic lane or the solitary wood-path? Let them continue to be admired in the parterre; but let not our admiration of their artificial beauty cause us to neglect or despise the simple denizens of the field and forest.
THE MAPLE.
In New England and the adjoining States, the maples are among the most conspicuous and important families of our indigenous trees. Their wood is used for various purposes in the arts, and their product of sugar is of incalculable value. Two of the European maples are cultivated here, distinguished from the American species by their larger leaves and flowers and their darker verdure. I prefer the latter, because they have a smaller leaf, and consequently a more lively and airy appearance, and because they are more beautiful in autumn.
Besides the three most remarkable species in our native woods, there are several smaller maples in New England, not rising much above the height of shrubs, but distinguished by their elegance and beauty. One of the most common of these is the Striped Maple, sometimes called Moosewood. It is a tree of singular grace and beauty, and in Maine and New Hampshire it is abundant, intermixed with the undergrowth of the forest. It is one of the earliest trees in putting forth its flowers. The leaves are large, broad, not deeply cleft, and finely variegated in their tints in autumn. The protection of the forest seems needful to this tree, for it is seldom found among the border shrubbery of fields and waysides. Mr. Emerson thinks it deserving of cultivation. “I have found it,” he remarks, “growing naturally twenty-five feet high, and nineteen or twenty inches in circumference; and Mr. Brown, of Richmond, tells me he has known it to attain the height of twenty-five feet. It well deserves careful cultivation. The striking, striated appearance of the trunk at all times, the delicate rose-color of the buds and leaves on opening, and the beauty of the ample foliage afterwards, the graceful pendulous racemes of flowers, succeeded by large showy keys not unlike a cluster of insects, will sufficiently recommend it. In France, Michaux says it has been increased to four times its natural size by grafting on the sycamore.”
The Mountain Maple is another small and elegant species of similar habits to those of the Moosewood, being almost entirely confined to the forest, variegated with red and purple tints in autumn. If it is ever seen by the roadside, it is only when the road is bordered by the forest.
THE SUGAR MAPLE.
The Rock Maple is distinguished from the red maple by its larger leaves, which are entire at the margin, and not serrate, having generally three lobes, sometimes five, separated by a smooth sinus instead of a notch. The flowers are greenish, and come out at the same time with the foliage. This tree is larger than any of the other species, it has a more vigorous growth, and affords a denser shade, but it is difficult to distinguish them when divested of their leaves. It is the most abundant species in all the North-eastern States, including the British Provinces, where it serves more than any other tree, except the white pine, to give character to the wood-scenery. It is rare in Eastern Massachusetts, and is not found below this latitude, except among the Alleghanies.