BOOK XVI.

THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FOREST TREES.

CHAP. 1.—COUNTRIES THAT HAVE NO TREES.

We have given the precedence in this account to the fruit-trees

and others which, by their delicious juices, first taught man to

give a relish to his food and the various aliments requisite for

his sustenance, whether it is that they spontaneously produce these

delightful flavours, or whether we have imparted them by the methods

of adoption and intermarriage,[2191] thus bestowing a favour, as it

were, upon the very beasts and birds. The next thing, then, would be

to speak of the glandiferous trees, the trees which proffered the

earliest nutriment to the appetite of man, and proved themselves his

foster-mothers in his forlorn and savage state—did I not feel myself

constrained on this occasion to make some mention of the surprise which

I have felt on finding by actual experience what is the life of mortals

when they inhabit a country that is without either tree or shrub.

(1.) I have already stated[2192] that in the East many nations that

dwell on the shores of the ocean are placed in this necessitous

state; and I myself have personally witnessed the condition of the

Chauci,[2193] both the Greater and the Lesser, situate in the regions

of the far North. In those climates a vast tract of land, invaded

twice each day and night by the overflowing waves of the ocean, opens

a question that is eternally proposed to us by Nature, whether these

regions are to be looked upon as belonging to the land, or whether as

forming a portion of the sea?

Here a wretched race is found, inhabiting either the more elevated

spots of land, or else eminences artificially constructed, and of a

height to which they know by experience that the highest tides will

never reach. Here they pitch their cabins; and when the waves cover

the surrounding country far and wide, like so many mariners on board

ship are they: when, again, the tide recedes, their condition is that

of so many shipwrecked men, and around their cottages they pursue

the fishes as they make their escape with the receding tide. It is

not their lot, like the adjoining nations, to keep any flocks for

sustenance by their milk, nor even to maintain a warfare with wild

beasts, every shrub, even, being banished afar. With the sedge[2194]

and the rushes of the marsh they make cords, and with these they

weave the nets employed in the capture of the fish; they fashion the

mud,[2195] too, with their hands, and drying it by the help of the

winds more than of the sun, cook their food by its aid, and so warm

their entrails, frozen as they are by the northern blasts; their

only[2196] drink, too, is rain-water, which they collect in holes dug

at the entrance of their abode: and yet these nations, if this very day

they were vanquished by the Roman people, would exclaim against being

reduced[2197] to slavery! Be it so, then—Fortune is most kind to many,

just when she means to punish them.[2198]

CHAP. 2.—WONDERS CONNECTED WITH TREES IN THE NORTHERN REGIONS.

Another marvel, too, connected with the forests! They cover all

the rest of Germany, and by their shade augment the cold. But the

highest of them all are those not far distant from the Chauci already

mentioned, and more particularly in the vicinity of the two lakes[2199]

there. The very shores are lined with oaks,[2200] which manifest an

extraordinary eagerness to attain their growth: undermined by the

waves or uprooted by the blasts, with their entwining roots they carry

vast forests along with them, and, thus balanced, stand upright as

they float along, while they spread afar their huge branches like

the rigging of so many ships. Many is the time that these trees have

struck our fleets with alarm, when the waves have driven them, almost

purposely it would seem, against their prows as they stood at anchor in

the night; and the men, destitute of all remedy and resource, have had

to engage in a naval combat with a forest of trees!

(2.) In the same northern regions, too, is the Hercynian[2201] Forest,

whose gigantic oaks,[2202] uninjured by the lapse of ages, and

contemporary with the creation of the world, by their near approach

to immortality surpass all other marvels known. Not to speak of other

matters that would surpass all belief, it is a well-known fact that

their roots,[2203] as they meet together, upheave vast hills; or, if

the earth happens not to accumulate with them, rise aloft to the very

branches even, and, as they contend for the mastery, form arcades, like

so many portals thrown open, and large enough to admit of the passage

of a squadron of horse.

(3.) All these trees, in general, belong to the glandiferous

class,[2204] and have ever been held in the highest honour by the Roman

people.

CHAP. 3. (4.)—THE ACORN OAK. THE CIVIC CROWN.

It is with the leaves of this class of trees that our civic crown

is made, the most glorious reward that can be bestowed on military

valour, and, for this long time past, the emblem of the imperial[2205]

clemency; since the time, in fact, when, after the impiety of civil

war, it was first deemed a meritorious action not to shed the blood

of a fellow-citizen. Far inferior to this in rank are the mural[2206]

crown, the vallar,[2207] and the golden[2208] one, superior though

they may be in the value of the material: inferior, too, in merit,

is the rostrate[2209] crown, though ennobled, in recent times more

particularly, by two great names, those of M. Varro,[2210] who was

presented with it by Pompeius Magnus, for his great achievements in the

Piratic War, and of M. Agrippa, on whom it was bestowed by Cæsar, at

the end of the Sicilian War, which was also a war against pirates.

In former days the beaks[2211] of vessels, fastened in front of the

tribunal, graced the Forum, and seemed, as it were, a crown placed

upon the head of the Roman people itself. In later times, however,

they began to be polluted and trodden under foot amid the seditious

movements of the tribunes, the public interest was sacrificed to

private advantage, each citizen sought solely his own advancement, and

everything looked upon as holy was abandoned to profanation—still, from

amid all this, the Rostra[2212] emerged once again, and passed from

beneath the feet of the citizens to their heads. Augustus presented

to Agrippa the rostrate crown, while he himself received the civic

crown[2213] at the hands of all mankind.

CHAP. 4.—THE ORIGIN OF THE PRESENTATION OF CROWNS.

In ancient times crowns[2214] were presented to none but a divinity,

hence it is that Homer[2215] awards them only to the gods of heaven

and to the entire army; but never to an individual, however great his

achievements in battle may have been. It is said, too, that Father

Liber was the first of all who placed a crown on his head, and that it

was made of ivy.[2216] In succeeding times, those engaged in sacrifices

in honour of the gods began to wear them, the victims being decked

with wreaths as well. More recently, again, they were employed in the

sacred games;[2217] and at the present day they are bestowed on such

occasions, not upon the victor, indeed, but upon his country, which

receives, it is proclaimed, this crown at his hands.[2218] Hence arose

the usage of conferring wreaths upon warriors when about to enjoy a

triumph, for them to consecrate in the temples: after which it became

the custom to present them at our games. It would be a lengthy matter,

and, indeed, foreign to the purpose of this work, to enter upon a

discussion who was the first Roman that received each kind of crown;

in fact, they were acquainted with none but such as were given as the

reward of military prowess. It is a well-known fact, however, that this

people has more varieties of crowns than those of all other nations put

together.

CHAP. 5.—PERSONS PRESENTED WITH A CROWN OF LEAVES.

Romulus presented Hostus Hostilius[2219] with a crown of leaves, for

being the first to enter Fidenæ. This Hostus was the grandfather of

King Tullus Hostilius. P. Decius the elder, the military tribune, was

presented with a crown of leaves by the army which had been saved by

his valour, under the command of Cornelius Cossus,[2220] the consul,

in the war with the Samnites. This crown was made at first of the

leaves of the holm oak, but afterwards those of the æsculus[2221] were

preferred, as being a tree sacred to Jupiter: this, however, was soon

employed indifferently with the quercus, according as each might

happen to present itself, the honourable distinction given to the acorn

being the only thing observed. Rigorous laws were, however, enacted,

to maintain the lofty glories of this wreath, by which it was placed

upon an equality even with the supreme honours of the wreath that is

given by Greece in presence of Jove[2222] himself, and to receive

which the exulting city of the victor is wont to break[2223] a passage

through its very walls. These laws are to the effect that the life of

a fellow-citizen must be preserved, and an enemy slain; that the spot

where this takes place must have been held by the enemy that same day;

that the person saved shall admit the fact, other witnesses being of no

use at all; and that the person saved shall have been a Roman citizen.

To preserve an ally merely, even though it should be the life of a

king that is so saved, confers no right to this high reward, nor is

the honour at all increased, even if it is the Roman general that has

been thus preserved, it being the intention of the framers of the law

that it should be the status of the citizen that is everything. When a

man has received this wreath, it is his privilege to wear it for the

rest of his life. When he makes his appearance at the celebration of

the games,[2224] it is customary for the Senate even to rise from their

seats, and he has the right of taking his seat next to the senators.

Exemption, too, from all civic duties is conferred upon him as well

as his father and his father’s father. Siccius Dentatus, as we have

already mentioned[2225] on an appropriate occasion, received fourteen

civic crowns, and Manlius Capitolinus[2226] six,[2227] one, among the

rest, for having saved the life of his general, Servilius. Scipio

Africanus declined to accept the civic crown for having saved the life

of his father at the battle of Trebia. Times these, right worthy of

our everlasting admiration, which accorded honour alone as the reward

of exploits so mighty, and which, while other crowns were recommended

by being made of gold, disdained to set a price upon the safety of a

citizen, and loudly proclaimed thereby that it is unrighteous to save

the life of a man for motives of lucre.

CHAP. 6. (5.)—THIRTEEN VARIETIES OF THE ACORN.

It is a well-known fact that acorns[2228] at this very day constitute

the wealth of many nations, and that, too, even amid these times of

peace. Sometimes, also, when there is a scarcity of corn they are dried

and ground, the meal being employed for making a kind of bread. Even

to this very day, in the provinces of Spain,[2229] we find the acorn

introduced at table in the second course: it is thought to be sweeter

when roasted in the ashes. By the law of the Twelve Tables, there is a

provision made that it shall be lawful for a man to gather his acorns

when they have fallen upon the land of another.

The varieties of the glandiferous trees are numerous, and they are

found to differ in fruit, locality, sex, and taste; the acorn of the

beech having one shape, that of the quercus another, and that, again,

of the holm-oak another. The various species also, among themselves,

offer a considerable number of varieties. In addition to this, some

of these trees are of a wild nature, while the fruits of others are

of a less acrid flavour, owing to a more careful cultivation. Then,

too, there is a difference between the varieties which grow on the

mountains and those of the plains; the males differ from the females,

and there are considerable modifications in the flavour of their fruit.

That of the beech[2230] is the sweetest of all; so much so, that,

according to Cornelius Alexander, the people of the city of Chios,

when besieged, supported themselves wholly on mast. The different

varieties cannot possibly be distinguished by their respective names,

which vary according to their several localities. The quercus[2231]

and the robur[2232] we see growing everywhere, but not so with the

æsculus;[2233] while a fourth kind, known as the cerrus,[2234] is

not so much as known throughout the greater part of Italy. We shall

distinguish them, therefore, by their characteristic features, and when

circumstances render it necessary, shall give their Greek names as well.

CHAP. 7. (6.)—THE BEECH.

The acorn of the beech[2235] is similar in appearance to a kernel,

enclosed in a shell of triangular shape. The leaf is thin and one of

the very lightest, is similar in appearance to that of the poplar, and

turns yellow with remarkable rapidity. From the middle of the leaf,

and upon the upper side of it, there mostly shoots a little green

berry, with a pointed top.[2236] The beech is particularly agreeable

to rats and mice; and hence it is, that where this tree abounds, those

creatures are sure to be plentiful also. The leaves are also very

fattening for dormice, and good for thrushes too. Almost all trees bear

an average crop but once in two years; this is the case with the beech

more particularly.

CHAP. 8.—THE OTHER ACORNS—WOOD FOR FUEL.

The other trees that bear acorns, properly so called, are the robur,

the æsculus, the cerrus, the holm-oak,[2237] and the cork-tree:[2238]

it is contained in a rivelled calyx, which embraces more or less of it,

according to the several varieties. The leaves of these trees, those

of the holm-oak excepted, are weighty, pulpy, long, and jagged at the

edges, and they do not turn yellow before they fall, as with the beech:

they are also longer or shorter, as the case may be.

There are two kinds[2239] of holm-oak: one of them, which belongs to

Italy, has a leaf not very unlike that of the olive; some of the Greeks

give it the name of “milax,”[2240] and in our provinces it is known as

the aquifolia. The acorn of these two kinds is shorter and more slender

than in the others: Homer[2241] calls it “acylos,” and by that name

distinguishes it from the ordinary acorn: it is generally said that the

male tree of the holm-oak bears no fruit.

The best acorn, and the very largest, is that which grows upon the

quercus, and the next to it is the fruit of the æsculus: that of the

robur, again, is diminutive, and the fruit of the cerrus has a meagre,

wretched look, being enclosed in a calyx covered with prickles, like

the outer coat of the chesnut. With reference to the acorn of the

quercus, that which grows upon the female tree[2242] is sweeter and

more tender, while that of the male is more solid and compact. The

acorn, however, of the latifolia[2243] is the most esteemed, an oak

so called from the remarkable broadness of its leaves. The acorns

differ also among themselves in size, and the comparative fineness of

the outer shell; as also in the circumstance that some have beneath

the shell a rough coat of a rusty colour, while in others a white

flesh immediately presents itself. Those, too, are more particularly

esteemed, the two extremities of the nut of which, taken lengthwise,

are as hard as a stone: and it is considered preferable that this

peculiarity should present itself rather in the shell than in the

flesh: in either case, however, it only exists in the fruit of the

male tree. In some kinds, again, the acorn is oval, in others round;

while in others it is of a more pointed form. The colour, too, varies

considerably, according as it is blacker or whiter; this last being

held in the highest esteem. The extremities of the acorn are bitter,

but the flesh in the middle of it is sweet;[2244] another difference,

too, consists in the comparative length or shortness of the stalk.

As for the trees themselves, the one that bears the acorn of largest

size is known as the “hemeris;”[2245] a small tree with a thick bushy

foliage all around it, and often hollowed at the place where the

branch is joined to the trunk. The quercus has a stronger wood, and

less susceptible of decay: this also is a very branchy tree, but is

much taller than the last, while the trunk is considerably thicker.

The ægilops,[2246] however, is the highest of them all, and is much

attached to wild, uncultivated spots. Next to this in height is the

latifolia, but its wood is far from being so useful either for building

purposes or for charcoal. When rough-hewn it is very apt to spoil,

hence it is that it is generally used in an unhewn state. As charcoal,

it is considered only economical in smelting copper; for the moment

the workman ceases to blow, the fire dies out, and hence it requires

to be repeatedly rekindled; while at the same time it gives out great

quantities of sparks. The best charcoal is that obtained from the wood

of young trees.[2247] Square billets of wood, newly cut, are piled

compactly together with clay, and built up in the form of a chimney;

the pile is then set fire to, and incisions are made in the coat of

clay as it gradually hardens, by the aid of long poles, for the purpose

of letting the moisture of the wood evaporate.

The worst kind of all, however, both for timber and for making

charcoal, is the oak known as the “haliphlœos,”[2248] the bark of which

is remarkably thick, and the trunk of considerable size, but mostly

hollow and spongy: it is the only one of this species that rots while

the tree is still alive. In addition to this, it is very frequently

struck by lightning, although it is not so remarkably lofty in height:

for this reason it is not considered lawful to employ its wood for

the purposes of sacrifice. It is but rarely that it bears any acorns,

and when it does they are bitter: no animal will touch them, with the

sole exception of swine, and not even they, if they can get any other

food. An additional reason also for its exclusion from all religious

ceremonials, is the circumstance that the fire is very apt to go out in

the middle of the sacrifice when the wood of it is used for fuel.

The acorn of the beech, when given to swine,[2249] makes them brisk and

lively, and renders the flesh tender for cooking, and light and easy

of digestion; while, on the other hand, that of the holm oak has the

effect of making them thin, pallid, meagre, and lumpish. The acorn of

the quercus is of a broad shape, and is the heaviest as well as the

sweetest of them all. According to Nigidius, the acorn of the cerrus

occupies the next rank to this, and, indeed, there is no acorn that

renders the flesh of swine more firm, though at the same time it is

apt to impart a certain degree of hardness. The same author assures us

also, that the acorn of the holm oak is a trying diet for swine, unless

it is given in very small quantities at a time. He says, too, that

this acorn is the last to fall, and that the flesh of swine, if fed

upon the acorns of the æsculus, the robur, or the cork-tree, will be of

a spongy nature.

CHAP. 9.—THE GALL-NUT.

All[2250] the glandiferous trees produce the gall-nut as well: they

only bear acorns, however, in alternate years. The gall-nut of the

hemeris[2251] is considered the choicest of all, and the best adapted

for the preparation of leather: that of the latifolia closely resembles

it, but is somewhat lighter, and not by any means so highly approved.

This last tree produces the black gall-nut also—for there are two

varieties of it—this last being deemed preferable for dyeing wool.

(7.) The gall-nut begins to grow just as the sun is leaving the sign

of Gemini,[2252] and always bursts forth in its entirety in a single

night.[2253] The white variety grows, too, in a single day, but if

the heat happens to overtake it, it shrinks immediately, and never

arrives at its proper size, which is about that of a bean. The black

gall-nut will remain green for a longer period, and sometimes attains

the size of an apple[2254] even. The best kind is that which comes from

Commagene,[2255] and the most inferior are those produced by the robur:

it may easily be tested by means of certain holes in it which admit of

the passage of the light.[2256]

CHAP. 10.—OTHER PRODUCTIONS ON THESE TREES BESIDES THE ACORN.

The robur, in addition to its fruit, has a great number of other

productions: it bears[2257] the two varieties of the gall-nut, and a

production which closely resembles the mulberry,[2258] except that it

differs from it in being dry and hard: for the most part it bears a

resemblance to a bull’s head, and in the inside there is a fruit very

similar to the stone of the olive. Little balls[2259] also are found

growing on the robur, not unlike nuts in appearance, and containing

within them a kind of soft wool, which is used for burning in lamps;

for it will keep burning without oil, which is the case also with the

black gall-nut. It bears another kind, too, of little ball, covered

with hair,[2260] but used for no purpose: in spring, however, this

contains a juice like honey. In the hollows formed by the union of

the trunk and branches of this tree there are found also small round

balls,[2261] which adhere bodily to the bark, and not by means of a

stalk: at the point of junction they are white, but the rest of the

body is spotted all over with black: inside they are of a scarlet

colour, but on opening them they are found to be empty, and are of a

bitter taste.

Sometimes, too, the robur bears a kind of pumice,[2262] as well as

little balls, which are formed of the leaves rolled up; upon the veins

of the leaves, too, there are watery pustules, of a whitish hue, and

transparent while they are soft; in these a kind of gnat[2263] is

produced, and they come to maturity just in the same way that the

ordinary gall-nut does.

CHAP. 11. (8.)—CACHRYS.

The robur bears cachrys,[2264] too; such being the name given to

a small round ball that is employed in medicine for its caustic

properties. It grows on the fir likewise, the larch, the pitch-tree,

the linden, the nut-tree, and the plane, and remains on the tree

throughout the winter, after the leaves have fallen. It contains a

kernel very similar to that of the pine-nut, and increases in size

during the winter. In spring the ball opens throughout, and it finally

drops when the leaves are beginning to grow.

Such is the multiplicity of the products borne by the robur in addition

to its acorns; and not only these, but mushrooms[2265] as well, of

better or worse quality, the most recent stimulants that have been

discovered for the appetite; these last are found growing about its

roots. Those of the quercus are the most highly esteemed, while those

of the robur, the cypress, and the pine are injurious.[2266] The robur

produces mistletoe[2267] also, and, if we may believe Hesiod,[2268]

honey as well: indeed, it is a well-known fact, that a honey-like[2269]

dew falling from heaven, as we have already mentioned,[2270] deposits

itself upon the leaves of this tree in preference to those of any

other. It is also well known that the wood of this tree, when burnt,

produces a nitrous[2271] ash.

CHAP. 12.—THE KERMES BERRY.

The holm oak, however, by its scarlet berry[2272] alone challenges

competition with all these manifold productions. This grain appears at

first sight to be a roughness on the surface of the tree, as it were,

a small kind of the aquifolia[2273] variety of holm oak, known as the

cusculium.[2274] To the poor in Spain it furnishes[2275] the means of

paying one half of their tribute. We have already, when speaking[2276]

of the purple of the murex, mentioned the best methods adopted for

using it. It is produced also in Galatia, Africa, Pisidia, and Cilicia:

the most inferior kind is that of Sardinia.

CHAP. 13.—AGARIC.

It is in the Gallic provinces more particularly that the glandiferous

trees produce agaric;[2277] such being the name given to a white fungus

which has a strong odour, and is very useful as an antidote. It grows

upon the top of the tree, and gives out a brilliant light[2278] at

night: this, indeed, is the sign by which its presence is known, and by

the aid of this light it may be gathered during the night. The ægilops

is the only one among the glandiferous trees that bears a kind of

dry cloth,[2279] covered with a white mossy shag, and this, not only

attached to the bark, but hanging down from the branches as well, a

cubit even in length: this substance has a strong odour, as we have

already[2280] stated, when speaking of the perfumes.

The cork is but a very small tree, and its acorn is of the very

worst[2281] quality, and rarely to be found as well: the bark[2282] is

its only useful product, being remarkably thick, and if removed it will

grow again. When straitened out, it has been known to form planks as

much as ten feet square. This substance is employed more particularly

attached as a buoy to the ropes[2283] of ships’ anchors and the

drag-nets of fishermen. It is employed also for the bungs of casks and

as a material for the winter shoes[2284] of females; for which reason

the Greeks not inappropriately call them[2285] “the bark of a tree.”

There are some writers who speak of it as the female of the holm oak;

and in the countries where the holm does not grow, they substitute for

it the wood of the cork-tree, more particularly in cartwrights’ work,

in the vicinity of Elis and Lacedæmon for instance. The cork-tree does

not grow throughout the whole of Italy, and in no[2286] part whatever

of Gaul.

CHAP. 14. (9.)—TREES OF WHICH THE BARK IS USED.

The bark also of the beech, the lime, the fir, and the pitch-tree is

extensively used by the peasantry. Panniers and baskets are made of

it, as also the large flat hampers which are employed for the carriage

of corn and grapes: roofs of cottages,[2287] too, are made of this

material. When a spy has been sent out he often leaves information for

his general, written upon fresh bark, by cutting letters in the parts

of it that are the most juicy. The bark of the beech is also employed

for religious purposes in certain sacred rites.[2288] This tree,

however, when deprived of its bark, will not survive.

CHAP. 15. (10.)—SHINGLES.

The best shingles are those made of the wood of the robur; the next

best being those furnished by the other glandiferous trees and the

beech. Those most easily made are cut from the wood of the resinous

trees, but they do not last,[2289] with the exception of those made

of pine. Cornelius Nepos informs us, that Rome was roofed solely with

shingles down to the time of the war with Pyrrhus, a period of four

hundred and seventy years. It is well known that it was remarkable for

the fine forests in its vicinity. Even at the present day, the name

of Jupiter Fagutalus points out in what locality there stood a grove

of beeches;[2290] the Querquetulan Gate shows where the quercus once

stood, and the Viminal Hill is the spot where the “vimen”[2291] was

sought in ancient times. In many other parts, too, there were groves to

be found, and sometimes as many as two. Q. Hortensius, the Dictator, on

the secession of the plebeians to the Janiculum, passed a law in the

Æsculetum,[2292] that what the plebeians had enacted should be binding

upon every Roman citizen.[2293]

CHAP. 16.—THE PINE.

In those days they regarded as exotics, because they did not exist in

the vicinity[2294] of the City, the pine and the fir, as well as all

the other varieties that produce pitch; of which we shall now proceed

to speak, in order that the method of seasoning wine, from the very

first, may be fully known. Whereas there are several among the trees

already mentioned in Asia or the East, that produce pitch, in Europe

there are but six varieties of kindred trees that supply it. In this

number there are the pine[2295] and the pinaster,[2296] which have

long thin leaves like hair, and pointed at the end. The pine yields

the least resin of them all: in the pine nut, indeed, of which we have

previously spoken,[2297] it is sometimes to be found, but hardly in

sufficient quantities to warrant us in reckoning the pine among the

resinous trees.

CHAP. 17.—THE PINASTER.

The pinaster is nothing else but a wild pine: it rises to a surprising

height, and throws out branches from the middle, just as the pine does

from the top. This tree yields a more copious supply of resin than

the pine: the mode in which this is done we shall set forth[2298] on

a future occasion. It grows also in flat countries. Many people think

that this is the same tree that grows along the shores of Italy, and

is known as the “tibulus;”[2299] but this last is slender, and more

compact than the pine; it is likewise free from knots, and hence is

used in the construction of light gallies;[2300] they are both almost

entirely destitute of resin.

CHAP. 18.—THE PITCH-TREE: THE FIR.

The pitch-tree[2301] loves the mountain heights and cold localities.

This is a funereal tree, and, as an emblem of death, is placed before

the door of the deceased, and is left to grow in the vicinity of the

funeral pile. Still, however, it is now some time since it was admitted

into our gardens, in consequence of the facility with which it is

clipped into various shapes. It gives out considerable quantities

of resin,[2302] which is intermingled with white granulations like

pearls, and so similar in appearance to frankincense, that when mixed,

it is impossible to distinguish them; hence the adulterations we find

practised in the Seplasia.[2303] All this class of trees have a short

bristly leaf, thick and hard, like that of the cypress. The branches of

the pitch-tree are of moderate size, and extend from almost the very

root of the tree, adhering to the sides like so many arms: the same is

the case with the fir,[2304] the wood of which is held in great esteem

for ship-building.

This tree grows upon the summits of lofty mountains, as though, in

fact, it had an antipathy to the sea, and it does not at all differ

from the pitch-tree in appearance: the wood is also very highly

esteemed for the construction of rafters, and many other appliances of

life. A flow of resin, which in the pitch-tree constitutes its great

merit, is looked upon as a defect in the fir,[2305] though it will

generally exude in some small quantity on exposure of the wood, to the

action of the sun. On the other hand, the wood which in the fir-tree is

remarkably fine, in the pitch-tree is only used for making shingles,

vats, and a few other articles of joiners’ work.

CHAP. 19.—THE LARCH: THE TORCH-TREE.

The fifth kind of resinous tree has the same localities, and is very

similar in appearance; it is known as the larch.[2306] The wood of

this tree is far more valuable, being unimpaired by time, and proof

against all decay; it is of a reddish colour, and of an acrid smell.

Resin[2307] flows from this wood in still greater quantities; it is of

the colour of honey, more viscous than the other varieties, and never

turns hard.

A sixth variety is the torch-tree,[2308] properly so called, which

gives out more resin than any of the others, with the exception of the

pitch-tree; but its resin is more liquid than that of this last. The

wood, too, of this tree is more particularly employed for kindling

fires and giving torch-light in religious ceremonials. Of this tree it

is the male only that bears what is known to the Greeks by the name of

“syce,”[2309] remarkable for its extremely powerful odour. When the

larch[2310] is changed into the torch-tree, it is a proof that it is in

a diseased state.

The wood of all these trees, when set fire to, gives out immoderate

volumes of sooty smoke,[2311] and sputters every now and then with

a sudden crackling noise, while it sends out red-hot charcoal to a

considerable distance—with the sole exception of that of the larch,

which will neither burn[2312] nor char, nor, in fact, suffer any more

from the action of fire than a stone. All these trees are evergreens,

and are not easily[2313] distinguished by the foliage, even by those

who are best acquainted with them, so nearly related are they to one

another. The pitch-tree, however, is not so high as the larch; which,

again, is stouter, and has a smoother bark, with a more velvety leaf,

more unctuous to the touch, thicker, and more soft and flexible.[2314]

The pitch-tree, again, has a leaf more sparsely scattered and drier;

it is thinner also, and of a colder nature, rougher all over in

appearance, and covered with a resinous deposit: the wood of this tree

is most like that of the fir. The larch, when the roots are once

burnt, will not throw out fresh shoots, which the pitch-tree will do,

as was found to be the case in the island of Lesbos, after the Pyrrhæan

grove had been burnt there.

In the same species too, the variety of sex[2315] is found to

constitute a considerable difference: the male is the shorter tree, and

has a harder wood; while the female is taller, and bears a leaf more

unctuous to the feel, smooth and free from all rigidity. The wood of

the male tree is hard and awry, and consequently not so well suited

for carpenters’ work; while that of the female is softer, as may be

very easily perceived on the application of the axe, a test, in fact,

which, in every variety, immediately shows us which trees are males;

the axe in such case meeting with a greater resistance, falling with

a louder noise, and being withdrawn from the wood with considerably

greater difficulty: the wood of the male tree is more parched too, and

the root is of a blacker hue. In the vicinity of Mount Ida, in Troas,

the circumstance whether the tree grows in the mountain districts or

on the sea-shore, makes another considerable difference. In Macedonia

and Arcadia, and in the neighbourhood of Elis, the names of the several

varieties have been totally altered, and it has not been agreed by

authors which name ought to be given to each: we have, therefore,

contented ourselves with employing the Roman denominations solely.

The fir is the largest of them all, the female being the taller of

the two; the wood, too, is softer and more easily worked. This tree

is of a rounder form than the others, and its leaves are closely

packed and feathered, so as not to admit of the passage of rain; the

appearance, too, of the tree is altogether more cheerful. From the

branches of these different varieties, with the sole exception of the

larch,[2316] there hang numbers of scaly nuts of compact shape, like

so many catkins. The nuts found upon the male fir have a kernel in the

fore-part, which is not the case with those on the female tree. In

the pitch-tree, again, these kernels, which are very small and black,

occupy the whole of the catkin, which is smaller and more slender than

in the other varieties; hence it is that the Greeks call this tree by

the name of phthirophoron.[2317] In this tree, too, the nuts on the

male are more compressed, and less moist with resin.

CHAP. 20.—THE YEW.

Not to omit any one of them, the yew[2318] is similar to these other

trees in general appearance. It is of a colour, however, but slightly

approaching to green, and of a slender form; of sombre and ominous

aspect, and quite destitute of juice: it is the only one, too, among

them all, that bears a berry. In the male tree the fruit is injurious;

indeed, in Spain more particularly, the berries contain a deadly

poison.[2319] It is an ascertained fact that travellers’ vessels,[2320]

made in Gaul of this wood, for the purpose of holding wine, have

caused the death of those who used them. Sextius says, that in Greece

this tree is known by the name of “smilax,” and that in Arcadia it is

possessed of so active a poison, that those who sleep beneath it, or

even take food[2321] there, are sure to meet their death from it. There

are authors, also, who assert that the poisons which we call at the

present day “toxica,” and in which arrows are dipped, were formerly

called taxica,[2322] from this tree. It has been discovered, also, that

these poisonous qualities are quite neutralized by driving a copper

nail into the wood of the tree.

CHAP. 21. (11.)—METHODS OF MAKING TAR—HOW CEDRIUM IS MADE.

In Europe, tar is extracted from the torch-tree[2323] by the agency

of fire; it is employed for coating ships and for many other useful

purposes.[2324] The wood of the tree is chopped[2325] into small

billets, and then put into a furnace, which is heated by fires lighted

on every side. The first steam that exudes flows in the form of water

into a reservoir made for its reception: in Syria this substance is

known as “cedrium;”[2326] and it possesses such remarkable strength,

that in Egypt the bodies of the dead, after being steeped in it, are

preserved from all corruption.[2327]

CHAP. 22.—METHODS BY WHICH THICK PITCH IS PREPARED.

The liquid that follows is of a thicker consistency, and constitutes

pitch, properly so called. This liquid, thrown again into a brazen

cauldron, and mixed with vinegar, becomes still[2328] thicker, and when

left to coagulate, receives the name of “Bruttian”[2329] pitch. It is

used, however, only for pitching the insides of dolia[2330] and other

vessels, it differing from the other kinds in being more viscous, of a

redder colour, and more unctuous than is usually the case. All these

varieties of pitch are prepared from the pitch-tree, by putting red-hot

stones, with the resinous wood, in troughs made of strong oak; or if

these troughs are not attainable, by piling up billets of the wood in

the method employed for the manufacture of charcoal.[2331] It is this

pitch that is used for seasoning wine, being first pounded and reduced

to a fine powder: it is of a blacker colour, too, than the other

sort. The same resin, if boiled gently with water, and then strained

off, becomes viscous, and assumes a red colour; it is then known as

“distilled[2332] pitch:” for making this, the refuse portions of the

resin and the bark of the tree are generally selected.

Another method is adopted for the manufacture of that used as

crapula.[2333] Raw flower of resin is taken, direct from the tree, with

a plentiful sprinkling of small, thin chips of the wood. These are then

pounded[2334] down and passed through a sieve, after which they are

steeped in water, which is heated till it comes to a boil. The unctuous

portion that is extracted from this is the best resin: it is but rarely

to be met with, and then only in a few places in Italy, in the vicinity

of the Alps: it is in considerable request for medicinal purposes. For

this, they generally boil a congius of white resin to two congii of

rain-water:[2335] some persons, however, think it better[2336] to boil

it without water for one whole day by a slow fire, taking care to use a

vessel of white copper.[2337] Some, again, are in the habit of boiling

the resin of the terebinth[2338] in a flat pan[2339] placed upon hot

ashes, and prefer it to any other kind. The resin of the mastich[2340]

is held in the next degree of estimation.[2341]

CHAP. 23. (12.)—HOW THE RESIN CALLED ZOPISSA IS PREPARED.

We must not omit, too, that the Greeks call by the name of

zopissa[2342] the pitch mixed with wax which has been scraped from

off the bottoms of sea-going ships;[2343] for there is nothing, in

fact, that has been left untried by mankind. This composition is found

much more efficient for all those purposes in which pitch and resin

are employed, in consequence of the superior hardness which has been

imparted to it by the sea-salt.

The pitch-tree is opened[2344] on the side that faces the sun, not by

means of an incision, but of a wound made by the removal of the bark:

this opening being generally two feet in width and one cubit from the

ground, at the very least. The body of the tree, too, is not spared in

this instance, as in others, for even the very chips from off it are

considered as having their use; those, however, from the lower part

of the tree are looked upon as the best, the wood of the higher parts

giving the resin a bitter[2345] taste. In a short time all the resinous

juices of the entire tree come to a point of confluence in the wound so

inflicted: the same process is adopted also with the torch-tree. When

the liquid ceases to flow, the tree is opened in a similar manner in

some other part, and then, again, elsewhere: after which the whole tree

is cut down, and the pith[2346] of it is used for burning.[2347]

So, too, in Syria they take the bark from off the terebinth; and,

indeed, in those parts they do not spare even the root or branches,

although in general the resin obtained from those parts is held in

disesteem. In Macedonia they subject the whole of the male larch to the

action of fire, but of the female[2348] only the roots. Theopompus

has stated in his writings that in the territory of the Apolloniates

there is found a kind of mineral pitch,[2349] not inferior to that

of Macedonia. The best pitch[2350] everywhere is that obtained from

trees planted on sunny spots with a north-east aspect; while that

which is produced from more shaded localities has a disagreeable

look and a repulsive odour. Pitch, too, that is produced amid the

cold of winter is of inferior quality, being in smaller quantity,

too, and comparatively colourless. Some persons are of opinion that

in mountainous localities this liquid is produced in the greatest

abundance, and that it is of superior colour and of a sweeter taste

and has a finer smell so long as it remains in a state of resin; but

that when, on the other hand, it is subjected to boiling, it yields

a smaller quantity of pitch, because so much of it goes[2351] off in

a serous shape. They say that the resinous trees, too, that grow on

mountains are thinner than those that are found on plains, but that

they are apt, both of them, to be unproductive in clear, dry weather.

Some trees, too, afford a flow of resinous juice the year after the

incision is made, some, again, in the second year, and others in the

third. The wound so made is filled with resin, but not with bark, or by

the cicatrization of the outer coat; for the bark in this tree never

unites. Among these varieties some authors have made the sappium[2352]

to constitute a peculiar kind, because it is produced from the seed

of a kindred variety, as we have already stated when speaking of the

nuts[2353] of trees; and they have given the name of tæda[2354] to

the lower parts of the tree; although in reality this tree is nothing

else but a pitch-tree, which by careful cultivation has lost some

small portion of its wild character. The name “sappinus” is also given

to the timber of these trees when cut, as we shall have occasion to

mention[2355] hereafter.

CHAP. 24. (13.)—TREES THE WOOD OF WHICH IS HIGHLY VALUED. FOUR

VARIETIES OF THE ASH.

It is for the sake of their timber that Nature has created the other

trees, and more particularly the ash,[2356] which yields it in greater

abundance. This is a tall, tapering tree, with a feather-like leaf: it

has been greatly ennobled by the encomiums of Homer, and the fact that

it formed the spear of Achilles:[2357] the wood of it is employed for

numerous purposes. The ash which grows upon Mount Ida, in Troas, is so

extremely like the cedar,[2358] that, when the bark is removed, it will

deceive a purchaser.

The Greeks have distinguished two varieties of this tree, the one long

and without knots, the other short, with a harder wood, of a darker

colour, and a leaf like that of the laurel. In Macedonia they give the

name of “bumelia”[2359] to an ash of remarkably large size, with a

wood of extreme flexibility. Some authors have divided this tree into

several varieties, according to the localities which it inhabits, and

say that the ash of the plains has a spotted wood, while that of the

mountain ash is more compact. Some Greek writers have stated that the

leaf of the ash is poisonous[2360] to beasts of burden, but harmless to

all the animals that ruminate.[2361] The leaves of this tree in Italy,

however, are not injurious to beasts of burden even; so far from it,

in fact, that nothing has been found to act as so good a specific for

the bites of serpents[2362] as to drink the juice extracted from the

leaves, and to apply them to the wounds. So great, too, are the virtues

of this tree, that no serpent will ever lie in the shadow thrown by

it, either in the morning or the evening, be it ever so long; indeed,

they will always keep at the greatest possible distance from it. We

state the fact from ocular demonstration,[2363] that if a serpent and

a lighted fire are placed within a circle formed of the leaves of the

ash, the reptile will rather throw itself into the fire than encounter

the leaves of the tree. By a wonderful provision of Nature, the ash has

been made to blossom before the serpents leave their holes, and the

fall of its leaf does not take place till after they have retired for

the winter.

CHAP. 25. (14.)—TWO VARIETIES OF THE LINDEN-TREE.

In the linden-tree the male[2364] and the female are totally different.

In the male the wood is hard and knotty, of a redder hue, and with

a stronger smell; the bark, too, is thicker, and, when taken off,

has no flexibility. The male bears neither seed nor blossom as the

female does, the trunk of which is thicker, and the wood white and of

excellent quality. It is a singular[2365] thing, but no animal will

touch the fruit of this tree, although the juice of the leaves and the

bark is sweet. Between the bark and the wood there are a number of

thin coats, formed by the union of numerous fine membranes; of these

they make those bands[2366] which are known to us as “tiliæ.” The

finer membranes are called “philyræ,” and are rendered famous by the

honourable mention that the ancients have made of them as ribbons for

wreaths[2367] and garlands. The wood of this tree is proof against the

attacks of worms:[2368] it is of moderate height[2369] only, but of

very considerable utility.

CHAP. 26. (15.)—TEN VARIETIES OF THE MAPLE.

The maple, which is pretty nearly of the same[2370] size as the lime,

is inferior to the citrus[2371] only for the beauty of its wood when

employed for cabinet work, and the exquisite finish it admits of.

There are numerous varieties[2372] of this tree; the light maple,

remarkable for the extreme whiteness of its wood, is known as the

“Gallic”[2373] maple in Italy beyond the Padus, being a native of the

countries beyond the Alps. Another kind is covered with wavy spots

running in all directions. In consequence of its superior beauty it

has received its name,[2374] from its strong resemblance to the marks

which are seen in the tail of the peacock; the finest kinds are those

which grow in Istria and Rhætia. An inferior sort of maple is known as

“crassivenium.”[2375]

The Greeks distinguish the varieties according to their respective

localities. The maple of the plains,[2376] they say, is white, and

not wavy; they give it the name of “glinon.” On the other hand, the

mountain maple,[2377] they say, is of a more variegated appearance,

and harder, the wood of the male tree being more particularly so, and

the best adapted for specimens of elegant workmanship. A third kind,

again, according to the Greeks, is the zygia,[2378] with a red wood,

which is easily split, and a pale, rough bark. Other authors, however,

prefer to make of this last a peculiar species, and give it in Latin

the name of “carpinus.”

CHAP. 27. (16.)—BRUSCUM: MOLLUSCUM; THE STAPHYLODENDRON.

But the most beautiful feature of all in the maple is what is known

as bruscum, and, even more particularly so, the molluscum. These are

both of them tuberosities of this tree, the bruscum presenting veins

more violently contorted, while those of the molluscum are disposed

in a more simple and uniform manner: indeed, if this last were of

sufficiently large size to admit of tables being made of it, there is

no doubt that it would be preferred to the wood of the citrus even. At

the present day, however, we find it but little used except for the

leaves of tablets, or as a veneer for couches.[2379] Tuberosities are

also found on the alder,[2380] but as much inferior to those already

mentioned, as the alder itself is to the maple. In the maple the male

tree[2381] is the first to blossom. The trees that frequent dry spots

are preferred to those that grow in watery localities, which is the

case also with the ash.

There is found in the countries beyond the Alps a tree, the wood of

which is very similar to that of the white maple, and which is known as

the staphylodendron.[2382] This tree bears a pod[2383] in which there

is found a kernel, which has the flavour of the hazel-nut.

CHAP. 28.—THREE VARIETIES OF THE BOX-TREE.

One of the most highly esteemed of all the woods is the box,[2384]

but it is seldom veined, and then only the wood of the root. In

other respects, it is a wood, so to say, of quiet and unpretending

appearance, but highly esteemed for a certain degree of hardness

and its pallid hue: the tree, too, is very extensively employed in

ornamental gardening.[2385] There are three[2386] varieties of it: the

Gallic[2387] box, which is trained to shoot upwards in a pyramidal

form, and attains a very considerable height; the oleaster,[2388] which

is condemned as being utterly worthless, and emits a disagreeable

odour; and a third, known as the “Italian” box,[2389] a wild variety,

in my opinion, which has been improved by cultivation. This last

spreads more than the others, and forms a thick hedge: it is an

evergreen, and is easily clipped.

The box-tree abounds on the Pyrenean[2390] range, the mountains of

Cytorus, and the country about Berecynthus.[2391] The trunk grows to

the largest size in the island of Corsica,[2392] and its blossom is

by no means despicable; it is this that causes the honey there to be

bitter.[2393] The seed of the box is held in aversion by all animals.

That which grows upon Mount Olympus in Macedonia is not more slender

than the other kinds, but the tree is of a more stunted growth. It

loves spots exposed to the cold winds and the sun: in fire, too, it

manifests all the hardness of iron; it gives out no flame, and is of no

use whatever for the manufacture of charcoal.[2394]

CHAP. 29. (17.)—FOUR VARIETIES OF THE ELM.

Midway between the preceding ones and the fruit-trees stands the elm,

partaking of the nature of the former in its wood, and being akin to

the latter in the friendship which it manifests for the vine.[2395]

The Greeks distinguish two varieties of this tree: the mountain[2396]

elm, which is the larger of the two, and that of the plains, which

is more shrubby. Italy gives the name of “Atinia”[2397] to the more

lofty kinds, and gives the preference to those which are of a dry

nature and will not grow in damp localities. Another variety is the

Gallic elm,[2398] and a third, the Italian,[2399] with leaves lying

closer together, and springing in greater numbers from a single

stalk. A fourth kind is the wild elm. The Atinia does not produce any

samara,[2400] that being the name given to the seed of the elm. All

the elms will grow from slips or cuttings, and all of them, with the

exception of the Atinia, may be propagated from seed.

CHAP. 30. (18.)—THE NATURES OF THE VARIOUS TREES ACCORDING TO THEIR

LOCALITIES: THE MOUNTAIN TREES, AND THE TREES OF THE PLAIN.

Having now made mention of the more remarkable trees, it remains for

me to state some general facts connected with them all. The cedar, the

larch, the torch-tree, and the other resinous trees prefer mountainous

localities:[2401] the same is the case also with the aquifolia, the

box, the holm-oak, the juniper, the terebinth, the poplar, the wild

mountain-ash, and the yoke-elm.[2402] On the Apennines there is also

found a shrub known as the “cotinus,”[2403] famous for imparting to

cloth a purple colour like that of the murex. The fir, the robur, the

chesnut, the lime, the holm-oak, and the cornel will grow equally well

on mountain or in valley; while the maple,[2404] the ash, the service,

the linden, and the cherry, more particularly prefer a watery spot on

the slope of a hilly declivity. It is not often that we see the plum,

the pomegranate, the olive, the walnut, the mulberry, or the elder,

growing on an elevated site: the cornel, too, the hazel, the quercus,

the wild ash, the maple, the ash, the beech, and the yoke-elm, descend

to the plains; while the elm, the apple, the pear, the laurel, the

myrtle, the blood-red[2405] shrub, the holm-oak, and the brooms[2406]

that are employed in dyeing cloths, all of them aspire to a more

elevated locality.

The sorb,[2407] and even still more the birch,[2408] are fond of a cold

site; this last is a native of Gaul, of singular whiteness and slender

shape, and rendered terrible as forming the fasces of the magistracy.

From its flexibility it is employed also in making circlets and the

ribs of panniers. In Gaul,[2409] too, they extract a bitumen from it

by boiling. To a cold site, also, belongs the thorn, which affords

the most auspicious torches[2410] of all for the nuptial ceremony;

from the circumstance, as Massurius assures us, that the shepherds, on

the occasion of the rape of the Sabine women, made their torches of

the wood of this tree: at the present day, however, the woods of the

yoke-elm and the hazel are more generally employed for this purpose.

CHAP. 31.—TREES WHICH GROW ON A DRY SOIL: THOSE WHICH ARE FOUND IN WET

LOCALITIES: THOSE WHICH ARE FOUND IN BOTH INDIFFERENTLY.

The cypress, the walnut, the chesnut, and the laburnum,[2411] are

averse to water. This last tree is also a native of the Alps, and

far from generally known: the wood is hard and white,[2412] and the

flowers, which are a cubit[2413] in length, no bee will ever touch. The

shrub, too, known as Jupiter’s beard,[2414] manifests an equal dislike

to water: it is often clipped, and is employed in ornamental gardening,

being of a round, bushy form, with a silvery leaf. The willow, the

alder, the poplar,[2415] the siler,[2416] and the privet,[2417] so

extensively employed for making tallies,[2418] will only grow in damp,

watery places; which is the case also with the vaccinium,[2419] grown

in Italy for drugging our slaves,[2420] and in Gaul for the purpose of

dyeing the garments of slaves a purple colour. All those trees[2421]

which are common to the mountains and the plains, grow to a larger

size, and are of more comely appearance when grown on the plains, while

those found on the mountains have a better wood and more finely veined,

with the exception of the apple and the pear.

CHAP. 32. (19.)—DIVISION OF TREES INTO VARIOUS SPECIES.

In addition to these particulars, some of the trees lose their leaves,

while others, again, are evergreens. Before, however, we treat of this

distinction, it will be necessary first to touch upon another. There

are some trees that are altogether of a wild nature, while there are

others, again, that are more civilized, such being the names[2422] by

which man has thought fit to distinguish the trees. Indeed, these last,

which by their fruits or some other beneficial property, or else by the

shade which they afford, show themselves the benefactors of man, are

not inappropriately called “civilized”[2423] trees.

CHAP. 33. (20.)—TREES WHICH DO NOT LOSE THEIR FOLIAGE. THE

RHODODENDRON. TREES WHICH DO NOT LOSE THE WHOLE OF THEIR FOLIAGE.

PLACES IN WHICH THERE ARE NO TREES.

Belonging to this last class, there are the following trees which do

not lose their leaves: the olive, the laurel, the palm, the myrtle,

the cypress, the pine, the ivy, the rhododendron,[2424] and, although

it may be rather called a herb than a tree, the savin.[2425] The

rhododendron, as its name indicates, comes from Greece. By some it is

known as the nerium,[2426] and by others as the rhododaphne. It is an

evergreen, bearing a strong resemblance to the rose-tree, and throwing

out numerous branches from the stem; to beasts of burden, goats, and

sheep it is poisonous, but for man it is an antidote[2427] against the

venom of serpents.

(21.) The following among the forest-trees do not lose their leaves:

the fir, the larch, the pinaster, the juniper, the cedar, the

terebinth, the box, the holm-oak, the aquifolia, the cork, the yew,

and the tamarisk.[2428] A middle place between the evergreens and

those which are not so, is occupied by the andrachle[2429] in Greece,

and by the arbutus[2430] in all parts of the world; as they lose all

their leaves with the exception of those on the top of the tree. Among

certain of the shrubs, too, the bramble and the calamus, the leaves do

not fall. In the territory of Thurii, where Sybaris formerly stood,

from the city there was a single oak[2431] to be seen that never lost

its leaves, and never used to bud before midsummer: it is a singular

thing that this fact, which has been so often alluded to by the Greek

writers, should have been passed over in silence by our own.[2432]

Indeed, so remarkable are the virtues that we find belonging to some

localities, that about Memphis in Egypt, and at Elephantina in Thebais,

the leaves[2433] fall from none of the trees, not the vine even.

CHAP. 34. (22.)—THE NATURE OF THE LEAVES WHICH WITHER AND FALL.

All the trees, with the exception of those already mentioned—a list

which it would be tedious to enumerate—lose their leaves, and it has

been observed that the leaf does not dry up and wither unless it is

thin, broad, and soft; while, on the other hand, the leaves that do

not fall are those which are fleshy, thick, and narrow.[2434] It is

an erroneous theory that the leaf does not fall in those trees the

juices of which are more unctuous than the rest; for who could make

out that such is the case with the holm-oak, for instance? Timæus, the

mathematician, is of opinion that the leaves fall while the sun is

passing through the sign of Scorpio, being acted upon by the influences

of that luminary, and a certain venom which exists in the atmosphere:

but then we have a right to wonder how it is that, the same reasons

existing, the same influence is not exercised equally on all.

The leaves of most trees fall in autumn, but in some at a later

period, remaining on the tree till the approach of winter, it making

no difference whether they have germinated at an earlier period or a

later, seeing that some that are the very first to bud are among the

last to lose their leaves—the almond, the ash, and the elder, for

instance: the mulberry, on the other hand, buds the last of all, and

loses its leaves among the very first. The soil, too, exercises a very

considerable influence in this respect: the leaves falling sooner where

it is dry and thin, and more particularly when the tree is old: indeed,

there are many trees that lose them before the fruit is ripe, as in

the case of the late fig, for instance, and the winter pear: on the

pomegranate, too, the fruit, when ripe, beholds nothing but the trunk

of the parent tree. And not even upon those trees which always retain

their foliage do the same leaves always remain, for as others shoot up

beneath them, the old leaves gradually wither away: this takes place

about the solstices more particularly.

CHAP. 35.—TREES WHICH HAVE LEAVES OF VARIOUS COLOURS; TREES WITH LEAVES

OF VARIOUS SHAPES. THREE VARIETIES OF THE POPLAR.

The leaves continue the same upon every species of tree, with the

exception of the poplar, the ivy, and the croton, which we have already

mentioned as being called the “cicus.”[2435]

(23.) There are three kinds of poplar; the white,[2436] the

black,[2437] and the one known as the Libyan[2438] poplar, with a very

diminutive leaf, and extremely black; much esteemed also for the fungi

which grow from it. The white poplar has a parti-coloured leaf, white

on the upper side and green beneath. This poplar, as also the black

variety, and the croton, have a rounded leaf when young, as though

it had been described with a pair of compasses, but when it becomes

older the leaf throws out angular projections. On the other hand, the

leaf of the ivy,[2439] which is angular at first, becomes rounder,

the older the tree. From the leaves of the poplar there falls a very

thick down;[2440] upon the white poplar, which, it is said, has a

greater quantity of leaves than the others, this down is quite white,

resembling locks of wool. The leaves of the pomegranate and the almond

are red.

CHAP. 36.—LEAVES WHICH TURN ROUND EVERY YEAR.

We find a most remarkable and, indeed, a marvellous peculiarity[2441]

existing in the elm, the lime, the olive, the white poplar, and the

willow; for immediately after the summer solstice the leaves of these

trees turn completely round; indeed, we have no sign which indicates

with greater certainty that that period has past.

(24.) These trees also present in their leaves the same difference

that is to be observed in those of all the rest: the underside, which

looks towards the ground, is of a green, grassy colour, and has a

smooth surface;[2442] while the veins, the callous skin, and the

articulations, lie upon the upper face, the veins making incisions in

the parts beneath, like those to be seen upon the human hand. The leaf

of the olive is whiter above, and not so smooth; the same is the case,

too, with that of the ivy. The leaves of all trees turn[2443] every day

towards the sun, the object being that the under side may be warmed by

its heat. The upper surface of them all has a down upon it, in however

small quantity it may be; in some countries this down is used as a kind

of wool.[2444]

CHAP. 37.—THE CARE BESTOWED ON THE LEAVES OF THE PALM, AND THE USES TO

WHICH THEY ARE APPLIED.

We have already said[2445] that in the East strong ropes are made of

the leaves of the palm, and that they are improved by lying in the

water. Among ourselves, too, the leaves of the palm are generally

plucked immediately after harvest, the best being those that have no

divisions in them. These leaves are left to dry under cover for four

days, after which they are spread out in the sun, and left out in the

open air all night, till they have become quite white and dry: after

this they are split before they are put to any use.

CHAP. 38.—REMARKABLE FACTS CONNECTED WITH LEAVES.

The broadest leaves are those of the fig, the vine, and the plane;

while those of the myrtle, the pomegranate, and the olive are narrow.

The leaf of the pine and the cedar is fine and resembles hair,

while that of the holly and one variety of the holm oak[2446] is

prickly—indeed, in the juniper, we find a thorn in place of a leaf.

The leaf of the cypress and the tamarisk[2447] is fleshy, and that

of the alder is remarkable for its thickness.[2448] In the reed, the

willow, and the palm,[2449] the leaf is long, and in the latter tree

it is double as well: that of the pear is rounded, and it is pointed

in the apple.[2450] In the ivy the leaf is angular, and in the plane

divided.[2451] In the pitch-tree[2452] and the fir the leaf is indented

like the teeth of a comb; while in the robur it is sinuous on the whole

of the outer margin: in the bramble it has a spiny surface. In some

plants the leaf has the property of stinging, the nettle for instance;

while in the pine,[2453] the pitch-tree, the fir, the larch, the cedar,

and the holly, it is prickly. In the olive and the holm-oak it has a

short stalk, in the vine a long one: in the poplar the stalk of the

leaf is always quivering,[2454] and the leaves of this tree are the

only ones that make a crackling noise[2455] when coming in contact with

another.

In one variety of the apple-tree[2456] we find a small leaf protruding

from the very middle of the fruit, sometimes, indeed, a couple of

them. Then, again, in some trees the leaves are arranged all round

the branches, and in others at the extremities of them, while in the

robur they are found upon the trunk itself. They are sometimes thick

and close, and at others thinly scattered, which is more particularly

the case where the leaf is large and broad. In the myrtle[2457] they

are symmetrically arranged, in the box, concave, and, upon the apple,

scattered without any order or regularity. In the apple and the pear

we find several leaves issuing from the same stalk, and in the elm and

the cytisus[2458] they are covered with ramified veins. To the above

particulars Cato[2459] adds that the leaves of the poplar and the

quercus should not be given to cattle after they have fallen and become

withered, and he recommends the leaves of the fig,[2460] the holm-oak,

and the ivy for oxen: the leaves, too, of the reed and the laurel are

sometimes given them to eat. The leaves of the service-tree fall all at

once, but in the others only by degrees. Thus much in reference to the

leaves.

CHAP. 39. (25.)—THE NATURAL ORDER OF THE PRODUCTION OF PLANTS.

The following is the order in which the operations of Nature take

place throughout the year. The first is fecundation, which takes place

when the west wind begins to prevail, generally about the sixth day

before the ides of February.[2461] By the agency of this wind all the

productions of the earth are impregnated; to such an extent, indeed,

that the mares even in Spain are impregnated by it, as we have already

stated.[2462] This is the generating principle of the universe, and it

receives its name of Favonius, as some think, from our word “fovere,”

which means “to warm and cherish:” it blows from due west at the

opening of the spring. The peasantry call this period of the year the

“time of heat,”[2463] because Nature is then longing to receive the

seeds of her various productions, and is imparting life to everything

that is planted. The vegetables conceive[2464] on various days, each

according to its respective nature: some immediately, as with animals,

others, again, more slowly, carrying with them for a longer period the

produce of their conception, a state which has from that circumstance

obtained the name of “germination.” When the plant flowers, it may be

said to bring forth, and the flower makes its appearance by bursting

its little capsule, which has acted to it as an uterus. The period of

training and education is the growth of the fruit. This, as well as

that of germination, is a laborious process.

CHAP. 40.—TREES WHICH NEVER BLOSSOM. THE JUNIPER.

The appearance of the blossom bespeaks the arrival of the spring and

the birth anew of the year; this blossom is the very pride and delight

of the trees. Then it is that they show themselves quite renewed, and

altogether different from what they really are; then it is that they

quite revel in the contest with each other which shall excel in the

various hues and tints which they display. This merit has, however,

been denied to many of them; for they do not all blossom, and there are

certain sombre trees which do not participate in this joyous season of

the year. The holm-oak, the pitch-tree, the larch, and the pine are

never bedecked with blossoms, and with them there is no particular

forerunner sent forth to announce the yearly birth of their respective

fruits. The same is the case, too, with the cultivated and the wild

fig,[2465] which immediately present their fruit in place of any

blossom. Upon the fig, too, it is remarkable that there are abortive

fruit to be seen which never ripen.

The juniper, also, is destitute[2466] of blossom; some writers,

however, distinguish two varieties of it, one of which blossoms but

bears no fruit,[2467] while the other has no blossom, but presents the

berries immediately, which remain on the tree for so long a period as

two years: this assertion, however, is utterly fallacious, and all the

junipers always present the same sombre appearance. So, too, in life,

the fortunes of many men are ever without their time of blossoming.

CHAP. 41.—THE FECUNDATION OF TREES. GERMINATION: THE APPEARANCE OF THE

FRUIT.

All trees germinate, however,[2468] even those which do not blossom.

In this respect there is a very considerable difference in relation to

the various localities; for in the same species we find that the tree,

when planted in a marshy spot, will germinate earlier than elsewhere;

next to that, the trees that grow on the plains, and last of all those

that are found in the woods: the wild pear, too, is naturally later

in budding than the other pears. At the first breath of the west

wind[2469] the cornel buds, and close upon it the laurel; then, a

little before the equinox, we find the lime and the maple germinating.

Among the earlier trees, too, are the poplar, the elm, the willow, the

alder, and the nut-trees. The plane buds, too, at an early period.

Others, again, germinate at the beginning of spring, the holly, for

instance, the terebinth, the paliurus,[2470] the chesnut, and the

glandiferous trees. On the other hand, the apple is late in budding,

and the cork-tree the very last of all. Some trees germinate twice,

whether it is that this arises from some exuberant fertility of the

soil, or from the inviting temperature of the atmosphere; this takes

place more particularly in the several varieties of the cereals.

Excessive germination, however, has a tendency to weaken and exhaust

the tree.

Besides the spring budding, some trees have naturally another

budding, which depends upon the influence of their own respective

constellations,[2471] a theory which we shall find an opportunity of

more conveniently discussing in the next Book but one.[2472] The winter

budding takes place at the rising of the Eagle, the summer at that of

the Dog-star, and a third budding[2473] again at that of Arcturus.

Some persons think that these two buddings are common to all trees,

but that they are to be remarked more particularly in the fig, the

vine, and the pomegranate; seeing that, when this is the case, the crop

of figs, in Thessaly and Macedonia more particularly, is remarkably

abundant: but it is in Egypt more especially that illustrations of this

vast abundance are to be met with. All the trees in general, when they

have once begun to germinate, proceed continuously with it; the robur,

however, the fir-tree, and the larch germinate intermittently, ceasing

thrice, and as many times[2474] beginning to bud again, and hence it is

that they shed the scales of their bark[2475] three several times; a

thing that takes place with all trees during the period of germination,

the outer coat of the tree bursting while it is budding.

With these last trees the first budding takes place[2476] at the

beginning of spring, and lasts about fifteen days; and they germinate a

second time when the sun is passing through the sign of Gemini: hence

it is that we see the points of the first buds pushed upwards by those

beneath, a joint marking the place where they unite.[2477] The third

germination of these trees takes place at the summer solstice, and

lasts no more than seven days: at this period we may very distinctly

detect the articulations by which the buds are joined to one another

as they grow. The vine is the only tree that buds twice; the first

time when it first puts forth the grape, and the second time when the

grape comes to maturity. In the trees which do not blossom there is

only the budding, and then the gradual ripening of the fruit. Some

trees blossom while they are budding, and pass rapidly through that

period; but the fruit is slow in coming to maturity, as in the vine,

for instance. Other trees, again, blossom and bud but late, while the

fruit comes to maturity with great rapidity, the mulberry,[2478] for

example, which is the very last to bud of all the cultivated trees, and

then only when the cold weather is gone: for this reason it has been

pronounced the wisest among the trees. But in this, the germination,

when it has once begun, bursts forth all over the tree at the very same

moment; so much so, indeed, that it is accomplished in a single night,

and even with a noise that may be audibly heard.[2479]

CHAP. 42.—IN WHAT ORDER THE TREES BLOSSOM.

Of the trees which, as we have already stated,[2480] bud in winter

at the rising of the Eagle, the almond blossoms the first of all, in

the month of January[2481] namely, while by March the fruit is well

developed. Next to it in blossoming is the plum[2482] of Armenia,

and then the tuber and the early peach,[2483] the first two being

exotics, and the latter forced by the agency of cultivation. Among

the forest trees, the first that blossoms in the course of nature is

the elder,[2484] which has the most pith of any, and the male cornel,

which has none[2485] at all. Among the cultivated trees we next have

the apple, and immediately after—so much so, indeed, that it would

almost appear that they blossom simultaneously—the pear, the cherry,

and the plum. Next to these is the laurel, and then the cypress, and

after that the pomegranate and the fig: the vine, too, and the olive

are budding when these last trees are in flower, the period of their

conception[2486] being the rising of the Vergiliæ,[2487] that being

their constellation.[2488] As for the vine, it blossoms at the summer

solstice, and the olive begins to do so a little later. All blossoms

remain on the trees seven days, and never fall sooner; some, indeed,

fall later, but none remain on more than twice seven days. The blossoms

are always off before the eighth day[2489] of the ides of July, the

period of the prevalence of the Etesian[2490] winds.

CHAP. 43. (26.)—AT WHAT PERIOD EACH TREE BEARS FRUIT. THE CORNEL.

Upon some trees the fruit does not follow immediately upon the fall of

the blossom. The cornel[2491] about the summer solstice puts forth a

fruit that is white at first, and after that the colour of blood. The

female[2492] of this tree, after autumn, bears a sour berry, which no

animal will touch; its wood, too, is spongy and quite useless, while,

on the other hand, that of the male tree is one of the very strongest

and hardest[2493] woods known: so great a difference do we find in

trees belonging to the same species. The terebinth, the maple, and the

ash produce their seed at harvest-time, while the nut-trees, the apple,

and the pear, with the exception of the winter or the more early kinds,

bear fruit in autumn. The glandiferous trees bear at a still later

period, the setting of the Vergiliæ,[2494] with the exception of the

æsculus,[2495] which bears in the autumn only; while some kinds of the

apple and the pear, and the cork-tree, bear fruit at the beginning of

winter.

The fir puts forth blossoms of a saffron colour about the summer

solstice, and the seed is ripe just after the setting of the Vergiliæ.

The pine and the pitch-tree germinate about fifteen days before the

fir, but their seed is not ripe till after the setting of the Vergiliæ.

CHAP. 44.—TREES WHICH BEAR THE WHOLE YEAR. TREES WHICH HAVE ON THEM THE

FRUIT OF THREE YEARS.

The citron-tree,[2496] the juniper, and the holm-oak are looked upon as

having fruit on them the whole year through, and upon these trees we

see the new fruit hanging along with that of the preceding year. The

pine, however, is the most remarkable of them all; for it has upon it

at the same moment the fruit that is hastening to maturity, the fruit

that is to come to maturity in the ensuing year, and the fruit that is

to ripen the next year but one.[2497] Indeed, there is no tree that is

more eager to develope its resources; for in the same month in which

a nut is plucked from it, another will ripen in the same place; the

arrangement being such, that there is no month in which the nuts of

this tree are not ripening. Those nuts which split while still upon the

tree, are known by the name of azaniæ;[2498] they are productive of

injury to the others, if not removed.

CHAP. 45.—TREES WHICH BEAR NO FRUIT: TREES LOOKED UPON AS ILL-OMENED.

The only ones among all the trees that bear nothing whatever, not so

much as any seed even, are the tamarisk,[2499] which is used only for

making brooms, the poplar,[2500] the alder, the Atinian elm,[2501] and

the alaternus,[2502] which has a leaf between that of the holm-oak

and the olive. Those trees are regarded as sinister,[2503] and are

considered inauspicious, which are never propagated from seed, and

bear no fruit. Cremutius informs us, that this tree, being the one

upon which Phyllis[2504] hanged herself, is never green. Those trees

which produce a gum open of themselves after germination: the gum never

thickens until after the fruit has been removed.

CHAP. 46.—TREES WHICH LOSE THEIR FRUIT OR FLOWERS MOST READILY.

Young trees are unproductive[2505] so long as they are growing. The

fruits which fall most readily before they come to maturity are the

date, the fig, the almond, the apple, the pear, and the pomegranate,

which last tree is also very apt to lose its blossom through excessive

dews and hoar frosts. For this reason it is, too, that the growers

bend the branches of the pomegranate, lest, from being straight, they

may receive and retain the moisture that is so injurious to them. The

pear and the almond,[2506] even if it should not rain, but a south

wind happen to blow or the weather become cloudy, are apt to lose

their blossoms, and their first fruit as well, if, after the blossom

has fallen, there is a continuance of such weather. But it is the

willow that loses its seed the most speedily of all, long, indeed,

before it is ripe; hence it is that Homer has given it the epithet of

“fruit-losing.”[2507] Succeeding ages, however, have given to this term

an interpretation conformable to their own wicked practices, it being a

well-known fact that the seed of the willow has the effect of producing

barrenness in females.

In this respect, however, Nature has employed her usual foresight,

bestowing but little care upon the seed of a tree which is produced so

easily, and propagated by slips. There is, however, it is said, one

variety of willow,[2508] the seed of which arrives at maturity: it is

found in the Isle of Crete, at the descent from the grotto of Jupiter:

the seed is unsightly and ligneous, and in size about as large as a

chick-pea.

CHAP. 47.—TREES WHICH ARE UNPRODUCTIVE IN CERTAIN PLACES.

Certain trees also become unproductive, owing to some fault in the

locality, such, for instance, as a coppice-wood in the island of

Paros, which produces nothing at all: in the Isle of Rhodes, too, the

peach-trees[2509] never do anything more than blossom. This distinction

may arise also from the sex; and when such is the case, it is the

male[2510] tree that never produces. Some authors, however, making a

transposition, assert that it is the male trees only that are prolific.

Barrenness may also arise from a tree being too thickly covered with

leaves.

CHAP. 48.—THE MODE IN WHICH TREES BEAR.

Some among the fruit-trees[2511] bear on both the sides of the branches

and the summit, the pear, for instance, the fig-tree, and the myrtle.

In other respects the trees are pretty nearly of a similar nature to

the cereals, for in them we find the ear growing from the summit, while

in the leguminous varieties the pod grows from the sides. The palm, as

we have already[2512] stated, is the only one that has fruit hanging

down in bunches enclosed in capsules.

CHAP. 49.—TREES IN WHICH THE FRUIT APPEARS BEFORE THE LEAVES.

The other trees, again, bear their fruit beneath the leaves, for the

purpose of protection, with the exception of the fig, the leaf of

which is very large, and gives a great abundance of shade; hence it is

that we find the fruit placed above it; in addition to which, the leaf

makes its appearance after the fruit. There is said to be a remarkable

peculiarity connected with one species of fig that is found in Cilicia,

Cyprus, and Hellas; the fruit grows beneath the leaves, while at the

same time the green abortive fruit, that never reaches maturity, is

seen growing on the top of them. There is also a tree that produces an

early fig, known to the Athenians by the name of “prodromos.”[2513] In

the Laconian varieties of this fruit more particularly, we find trees

that bear two crops[2514] in the year.

CHAP. 50. (27.)—TREES THAT BEAR TWO CROPS IN A YEAR. TREES THAT BEAR

THREE CROPS.

In the island of Cea there are wild figs that bear three times in

one year. By the first crop the one that succeeds is summoned forth,

and by that the third. It is by the agency of this last crop that

caprification[2515] is performed. In the wild fig, too, the fruit

grows on the opposite side of the leaves. There are some pears and

apples, too, that bear two crops in the year, while there are some

early varieties also. The wild apple bears twice[2516] in the year,

its second crop coming on after the rising of Arcturus,[2517] in sunny

localities more particularly. There are vines, too, that will even bear

three times in the year, a circumstance that has procured for them the

name of “frantic”[2518] vines. On these we see grapes just ripening,

others beginning to swell, and others, again, in blossom, all at the

same moment.

M. Varro[2519] informs us, that there was formerly at Smyrna,

near[2520] the Temple of the Mother of the Gods, a vine that bore two

crops in the year, as also an apple-tree of a similar nature in the

territory of Consentia. This, however, is constantly to be witnessed

in the territory of Tacapa,[2521] in Africa, of which we shall have

to speak more fully on another occasion,[2522] so remarkable is the

fertility of the soil. The cypress also bears three times in the year,

for its berries are gathered in the months of January, May, and

September, being all three of different size.

There are also certain peculiarities observed in the different modes

in which the trees bear their fruit, the arbutus and the quercus being

most fruitful in the upper part, the walnut and the marisca[2523] fig

in the lower. All trees, the older they grow, the more early they bear,

and this more particularly in sunny spots and where the soil is not

over-rich. All the forest-trees are slower in bringing their fruit to

maturity; and indeed, in some of them the fruit never becomes fully

ripe.[2524] Those trees, too, about the roots of which the earth is

ploughed or broken and loosened, bring their fruit to maturity more

speedily than those in which this has been neglected; by this process

they are also rendered more fruitful.

CHAP. 51.—WHICH TREES BECOME OLD WITH THE GREATEST RAPIDITY, AND WHICH

MOST SLOWLY.

There are great differences also in trees in respect to age. The

almond and the pear[2525] are the most fruitful when old, which is

the case also with the glandiferous trees and a certain species of

fig. Others, again, are most prolific when young, though the fruit is

later in coming to maturity, a thing particularly to be observed in

the vine; for in those that are old the wine is of better quality,

while the produce of the younger trees is given in greater abundance.

The apple-tree becomes old very early, and the fruit which it produces

when old is of inferior quality, being of smaller size and very liable

to be attacked by maggots: indeed, these insects will breed in the

tree itself. The fig is the only one of all the fruit-trees that is

submitted to any process with the view of expediting the ripening of

the fruit,[2526] a marvellous thing, indeed, that a greater value

should be set upon produce that comes out of its proper season!

All trees which bear their fruit before the proper time become

prematurely[2527] old; indeed, some of them wither and die all of a

sudden, being utterly exhausted by the too favourable influence of the

weather, a thing that happens to the vine more particularly.

(28.) On the other hand, the mulberry becomes aged[2528] but very

slowly, and is never exhausted by its crops. Those trees, too, the wood

of which is variegated, arrive at old age but slowly,—the palm, the

maple, and the poplar, for instance.

(29.) Trees grow old more rapidly when the earth is ploughed and

loosened about the[2529] roots; forest trees at a later period.

Speaking in general terms, we may say that care employed in the culture

of trees seems to promote their fertility, while increased fertility

accelerates old age. Hence it is that the carefully tended trees are

the first to blossom, and the first to bud; in a word, are the most

precocious in every respect: but all natural productions which are in

any way weakened are more susceptible of atmospheric influences.

CHAP. 52.—TREES WHICH BEAR VARIOUS PRODUCTS. CRATÆGUM.

Many trees bear more than one production, a fact which we have already

mentioned[2530] when speaking of the glandiferous trees. In the number

of these there is the laurel, which bears its own peculiar kind of

grape, and more particularly the barren laurel,[2531] which bears

nothing else; for which reason it is looked upon by some persons as the

male tree. The filbert, too, bears catkins, which are hard and compact,

but of no use[2532] whatever.

(30.) But it is the box-tree that supplies us with the greatest number

of products, not only its seed, but a berry also, known by the name of

cratægum;[2533] while on the north side it produces mistletoe, and on

the south hyphear; two products of which I shall shortly have to speak

more[2534] at length. Sometimes, indeed, this tree has all four of

these products growing upon it at the same moment.

CHAP. 53.—DIFFERENCES IN TREES IN RESPECT OF THE TRUNKS AND BRANCHES.

Some trees are of a simple form, and have but a single trunk rising

from the root, together with numerous branches; such as the olive, for

instance, the fig, and the vine; others again are of a shrubby nature,

such as the paliurus,[2535] the myrtle, and the filbert; which last,

indeed, is all the better, and the more abundant its fruit, the more

numerous its branches. In some trees, again, there is no trunk at all,

as is the case with one species of box,[2536] and the lotus[2537] of

the parts beyond sea. Some trees are bifurcated, while there are some

that branch out into as many as five parts. Others, again, divide in

the trunk but have no branches, as in the case of the elder; while

others have no division in the trunk but throw out branches, such as

the pitch-tree, for instance.

In some trees the branches are symmetrically arranged, the pitch-tree

and the fir, for example; while with others they are dispersed without

any order or regularity, as in the robur, the apple, and the pear. In

the fir the branches are thrown out from the trunk straight upwards,

pointing to the sky, and not drooping downwards from the sides of the

trunk. It is a singular thing,[2538] but this tree will die if the ends

of its branches are cut, though, if taken off altogether, no bad effect

is produced. If it is cut, too, below the place where the branches

were, the part of the tree which is left will continue to live; but if,

on the other hand, the top only of the tree is removed, the whole of it

will die.

Some trees, again, throw out branches from the roots, the elm for

example; while others are branchy at the top, the pine for instance,

and the lotus[2539] or Grecian bean, the fruit of which, though wild,

resembles the cherry very closely, and is called the lotus at Rome,

on account of its sweetness. For sheltering houses these trees are

more particularly esteemed, as they throw out their branches to a

considerable distance, from a short trunk, thus affording a very

extensive shade, and very frequently encroaching upon the neighbouring

mansions. There is no tree, however, the shade afforded by which is

less long-lived than this, and when it loses its leaves in winter, it

affords no shelter from the sun. No tree has a more sightly bark, or

one which has greater attractions for the eye; or branches which are

longer, stouter, or more numerous; indeed, one might almost look upon

them as forming so many trees. The bark[2540] of it is used for dyeing

skins, and the root for colouring wool.

The branches of the apple-tree have a peculiar conformation; knots are

formed which resemble the muzzles[2541] of wild beasts, several smaller

ones being united to a larger.

CHAP. 54.—THE BRANCHES OF TREES.

Some of the branches are barren, and do not germinate; this takes place

either from a natural deficiency of strength, or else some injury

received in consequence of having been cut, and the cicatrix impeding

the natural functions. The same that the branch is in the trees that

spread out, is the eye[2542] in the vine, and the joint in the reed.

All trees are naturally the thickest in the parts that are nearest the

ground. The fir, the larch, the palm, the cypress, and the elm, and,

indeed, every tree that has but a single trunk, develope themselves

in their remarkable height. Among the branchy trees the cherry is

sometimes[2543] found to yield a beam forty cubits in length by two in

thickness throughout. Some trees divide into branches from the very

ground, as in the apple-tree, for example.

CHAP. 55. (31.)—THE BARK OF TREES.

In some trees the bark[2544] is thin, as in the laurel and the lime; in

others, again, it is thick, as in the robur; in some it is smooth, as

in the apple and the fig, while in the robur and the palm it is rough:

in all kinds it becomes more wrinkled when the tree is old. In some

trees the bark bursts spontaneously, as in the vine for instance, while

in others it falls off even, as we see in the apple and the arbutus. In

the cork-tree and the poplar, the bark is substantial and fleshy; in

the vine and the reed it is membraneous. In the cherry it is similar to

the coats of the papyrus, while in the vine, the lime, and the fir, it

is composed of numerous layers. In others, again, it is single, the fig

and the reed for instance.

CHAP. 56.—THE ROOTS OF TREES.

There are great differences, too, in the roots of trees. In the fig,

the robur, and the plane, they are numerous; in the apple they are

short and thin, while in the fir and the larch they are single; and by

this single root is the tree supported, although we find some small

fibres thrown out from it laterally. They are thick and unequal in

the laurel and the olive, in which last they are branchy also; while

in the robur they are solid and fleshy.[2545] The robur, too, throws

its roots downwards to a very considerable depth. Indeed, if we are

to believe Virgil,[2546] the æsculus has a root that descends as deep

into the earth as the height to which the trunk ascends in the air.

The roots of the olive, the apple, and the cypress, creep almost upon

the very surface: in some trees they run straight and horizontally,

as in the laurel and the olive; while in others they have a sinuous

course—the fig for example. In some trees the roots are bristling with

small filaments, as in the fir, and many of the forest trees; the

mountaineers cut off these fine filaments, and weave with them very

handsome flasks,[2547] and various other articles.

Some writers say that the roots of trees do not descend below the level

to which the sun’s heat is able to penetrate; which, of course, depends

upon the nature of the soil, whether it happens to be thin or dense.

This, however, I look upon[2548] as a mistake: and, in fact, we find

it stated by some authors that a fir was transplanted, the roots of

which had penetrated eight cubits in depth, and even then the whole of

it was not dug up, it being torn asunder.[2549] The citrus has a root

that goes the very deepest of all, and is of great extent; next after

it come the plane, the robur, and the various glandiferous trees. In

some trees, the laurel for instance, the roots are more tenacious of

life the nearer they are to the surface: hence, when the trunk withers,

it is cut down, and the tree shoots again with redoubled vigour. Some

think that the shorter the roots are, the more rapidly the tree decays;

a supposition which is plainly contradicted by the fig, the root of

which is among the very largest, while the tree becomes aged at a

remarkably early period. I regard also as incorrect what some authors

have stated, as to the roots of trees diminishing[2550] when they are

old; for I once saw an ancient oak, uprooted by a storm, the roots of

which covered a jugerum of ground.

CHAP. 57.—TREES WHICH HAVE GROWN SPONTANEOUSLY FROM THE GROUND.

It is a not uncommon thing for trees when uprooted to receive new

strength when replanted, the earth about their roots forming a sort of

cicatrix[2551] there. This is particularly the case with the plane,

which, from the density of its branches, presents a remarkably broad

surface to the wind: when this happens, the branches are cut off, and

the tree, thus lightened, is replaced in its furrow: this, too, has

also been done before now with the walnut, the olive, and many others.

(32.) We have many instances cited also of trees falling to the ground

without there being any storm or other perceptible cause, but merely by

way of portentous omen, and then rising again of themselves. A prodigy

of this nature happened to the citizens of Rome during their wars

with the Cimbri: at Nuceria, in the grove consecrated to Juno, an elm

inclined to such a degree, even after the top had been cut off, as to

overhang the altar there, but it afterwards recovered itself to such an

extent as to blossom immediately: it was from that very moment, too,

that the majesty of the Roman people began to flourish once again after

it had been laid low by disaster and defeat. A similar circumstance is

said to have taken place also at Philippi, where a willow, which had

fallen down, and the top of which had been taken off, rose again; and

at Stagira, in the Museum[2552] there, where the same thing occurred

to a white poplar; all which events were looked upon as favourable

omens. But what is most wonderful of all, is the fact that a plane, at

Antandros, resumed its original position even after its sides had been

rough-hewn all round with the adze,[2553] and took root again: it was a

tree fifteen cubits long, and four ulnæ in thickness.

CHAP. 58.—HOW TREES GROW SPONTANEOUSLY—DIVERSITIES IN THEIR NATURE, THE

SAME TREES NOT GROWING EVERYWHERE.

The trees which we owe to Nature are produced in three different ways;

spontaneously, by seed sown, or by a slip which throws out a root. Art

has multiplied the methods of reproduction, as we shall have occasion

to state in its own appropriate Book:[2554] at present our sole subject

is the operations of Nature, and the manifold and marvellous methods

she adopts. The trees, as we have already stated,[2555] do not all of

them grow in every locality, nor will they live, many of them,[2556]

when transplanted: this happens sometimes through a natural antipathy

on the part of the tree, sometimes through an innate stubbornness, but

more frequently through the weakness of the variety so transplanted,

either the climate being unfavourable, or the soil repulsive to it.

CHAP. 59.—PLANTS THAT WILL NOT GROW IN CERTAIN PLACES.

Balsamum[2557] will grow nowhere but [in[2558] Judæa]: and the citron

of Assyria refuses to bear fruit in any other country. The palm, too,

will not grow everywhere, and even if it does grow in some places, it

will not bear: sometimes, indeed, it may make a show and promise of

bearing, but even then its fruit comes to nothing, it seeming to have

borne them thus far in spite of itself. The cinnamon[2559] shrub has

not sufficient strength to acclimatize itself in the countries that

lie in the vicinity of Syria. Amomum,[2560] too, and nard,[2561] those

most delicate of perfumes, will not endure the carriage from India

to Arabia, nor yet conveyance by sea; indeed, King Seleucus did make

the attempt, but in vain. But what is more particularly wonderful,

is the fact that most of the trees by care may be prevailed upon to

live when transplanted; for sometimes the soil may be so managed as

to nourish the foreigner and give support to the stranger plant;

climate, however, can never be changed. The pepper-tree[2562] will

live in Italy, and cassia[2563] in the northern climates even, while

the incense-tree[2564] has been known to live in Lydia: but how are

we to impart to these productions the requisite warmth of the sun, in

order to make all the crude juices go off by evaporation, and ripen the

resins that distil from them?

Nearly as great a marvel, too, is the fact that the nature of the tree

may be modified by circumstances, and yet the tree itself be none the

less vigorous in its growth. Nature originally gave the cedar[2565] to

localities of burning heat, and yet we find it growing in the mountains

of Lycia and Phrygia. She made the laurel, too, averse to cold, and

yet there is no tree that grows in greater abundance on Mount Olympus.

At the city of Panticapæum, in the vicinity of the Cimmerian Bosporus,

King Mithridates and the inhabitants of the place used every possible

endeavour, with a view to certain religious ceremonies, to cultivate

the myrtle[2566] and the laurel: they could not succeed, however,

although trees abound there which require a hot climate, such as the

pomegranate and the fig, as well as apples and pears of the most

approved quality. In the same country, too, the trees that belong to

the colder climates, such as the pine, the fir, and the pitch-tree,

refuse to grow. But why go search for instances in Pontus? In the

vicinity of Rome itself it is only with the greatest difficulty[2567]

that the cherry and the chesnut will grow, and the peach-tree, too, at

Tusculum: the Greek nut, too, is grown there from grafts only at a cost

of considerable labour, while Tarracina abounds with whole woods of it.

CHAP. 60. (33.)—THE CYPRESS.

The cypress[2568] is an exotic, and has been reckoned one of the

trees that are naturalized with the greatest difficulty; so much so,

indeed, that Cato[2569] has expatiated upon it at greater length and

more frequently than any of the others. This tree is naturally of a

stubborn[2570] disposition, bears a fruit that is utterly useless,

a berry that causes a wry[2571] face when tasted, and a leaf that is

bitter: it also gives out a disagreeable pungent smell,[2572] and its

shade is far from agreeable. The wood that it furnishes is but scanty,

so much so indeed, that it may be almost regarded as little more than a

shrub. This tree is sacred to Pluto, and hence it is used as a sign of

mourning[2573] placed at the entrance of a house: the female[2574] tree

is for a long time barren. The pyramidal appearance that it presents

has caused it not to be rejected, but for a long time it was only used

for marking the intervals between rows of pines: at the present day,

however, it is clipped and trained to form hedge-rows, or else is

thinned and lengthened out in the various designs[2575] employed in

ornamental gardening, and which represent scenes of hunting, fleets,

and various other objects: these it covers with a thin small leaf,

which is always green.

There are two varieties of the cypress; the one[2576] tapering and

pyramidal, and which is known as the female; while the male tree[2577]

throws its branches straight out from the body, and is often pruned

and employed as a rest for the vine. Both the male and the female are

permitted to throw out their branches, which are cut and employed for

poles and props, being worth, after thirteen years’ growth, a denarius

a-piece. In respect of income, a plantation of cypress is remarkably

profitable, so much so, indeed, that it was a saying in old times that

a cypress-wood is a dowry for a daughter.[2578] The native country

of this tree is the island of Crete, although Cato[2579] calls it

Tarentine, Tarentum being the first place, I suppose, in which it was

naturalized: in the island of Ænaria,[2580] also, if the cypress is

cut down, it will grow again[2581] from the root. But, in the Isle

of Crete, in whatever place the earth is moved, this tree will shoot

up[2582] of its own natural vigour, and immediately appear above the

soil; indeed, in that island there is no occasion even to solicit

the soil, for it grows spontaneously there, on the mountains of Ida

more particularly, and those known as the White Mountains. On the

very summit of these elevations, from which the snows never depart,

we find the cypress growing in great abundance; a thing that is truly

marvellous—seeing that, in other countries, it will only grow in warm

localities; from which it would appear to have a great dislike to its

native climate.

CHAP. 61.—THAT THE EARTH OFTEN BEARS PRODUCTIONS WHICH IT HAS NEVER

BORNE BEFORE.

It is not only the quality of the soil and the unchanging influences

of the climate that affect the nature of trees, but wet and showery

weather also, temporarily at least. Indeed, the torrents very often

bring down with them seeds, and sometimes we find those of unknown

kinds even floating along. This took place in the territory of

Cyrenaica, at the period when laser was first grown there, as we shall

have occasion to mention when we speak of the nature of the various

herbs.[2583] A forest, too, sprang[2584] up in the vicinity of the city

of Cyrene, just after a shower of rain, of a dense, pitchy nature,

about the year of the City of Rome 430.

CHAP. 62. (34.)—THE IVY.—TWENTY VARIETIES OF IT.

It is said that the ivy now grows in Asia,[2585] though

Theophrastus[2586] has denied that such is the fact, and asserts that

it grows nowhere in India, except upon Mount Meros.[2587] He says, too,

that Harpalus used every possible exertion to naturalize it in Media,

but to no purpose; and that Alexander, in consequence of the rarity of

this plant, had himself crowned[2588] with it, after the example of

Father Liber, when returning victorious with his army from India: and

at the present day even, it is used to decorate the thyrsus of that

god, and the casques and bucklers employed by the nations of Thrace in

their sacred ceremonials. The ivy is injurious[2589] to all trees and

plants, and makes its way through tombs and walls; it forms a haunt

much frequented by serpents, for its refreshing coolness; so that it is

a matter for astonishment that there should have been such remarkable

veneration for this plant.

The two principal kinds in the ivy, as in other plants, are the male

tree and the female.[2590] The male is said to have a larger trunk

than the female, and a leaf that is harder and more unctuous, with a

flower nearly approaching to purple: indeed, the flower of both the

male and female tree strongly resembles the wild[2591]-rose, were it

not destitute of smell. Each of these kinds of ivy is divided into

three other varieties; the white[2592] ivy, the black,[2593] and a

third known as the helix.[2594] These varieties are again subdivided

into others, as there is one in which the fruit only is white, and

another in which it is only the leaf that is so. In those which have

a white fruit, the berry in some cases is closely packed and large,

the clusters, which are known as “corymbi,” being of a spherical form.

So, too, with the selenitium, which has a smaller berry, and fewer

clusters; and the same is the case with the black ivy. One kind has a

black seed, and another a seed of a saffron[2595] colour—it is this

last that poets use for their chaplets,[2596] and the leaves of it

are not so black as in the other kinds: by some it is known as the

ivy of Nysa, by others as that of Bacchus:[2597] it is the one that

among the black varieties has the largest clusters of all. Some of

the Greek writers even distinguish in this last kind two varieties,

according to the colour of the berries, the erythranum[2598] and the

chrysocarpus.[2599]

It is the helix, however, that has the most peculiarities of all,

and in the appearance of the leaf more particularly, which is small,

angular, and of a more elegant shape, the leaf in all the other kinds

being plain and simple. It differs, too, in the distance between the

joints, and in being barren more especially, as it never bears fruit.

Some authors, however, think that this difference exists solely in

respect of age and not of kind, and are of opinion that what is the

helix when young, becomes the ordinary ivy when old. This, however,

is clearly proved to be an error upon their part, for we find more

varieties of the helix than one, and three in particular—that of a

grass-green colour, which is the most abundant of all, the kind with

a white leaf, and a third, which is parti-coloured, and known as

the Thracian helix. In that of a grass-green colour, the leaves are

smaller, more closely packed together, and symmetrically arranged;

while in the other kinds the features are altogether different. In the

parti-coloured kind, also, one variety has a smaller leaf than usual,

similarly arranged, and lying closer together, while in the other none

of these features are observed. The leaves, too, are either greater or

smaller and differ in the disposition of the spots upon them, and in

the white helix some of them are whiter than others: the grass-green

variety, however, is the one that grows to the greatest height.

The white helix is in the habit of killing trees by depriving them of

their juices, and increases to such a degree of density as to be quite

a tree itself. Its characteristics are, a very large, broad, leaf, and

projecting buds, which in all the other kinds are bent inwards; its

clusters, too, stand out erect. Although, too, all the ivies have arms

that throw out a root, those of this variety are particularly branchy

and strong; next to it in strength, are those of the black ivy.

It is a peculiarity of the white ivy to throw out arms from the middle

of the leaves, with which it invariably embraces any object that may be

on either side of it; this is the case, too, with walls, even though it

should not be able to clasp them. If the trunk is cut across in ever so

many places, it will still live and thrive, having as many fresh roots

as it has arms, by means of which it ensures safety and impunity, while

at the same time it sucks and strangles the trees to which it clings.

There are great differences also in the fruit of both the white ivy

and the black; for in some of them the berry is so bitter that birds

will not touch it. There is an ivy also which grows upright,[2600] and

stands without any support; being the only one that does so among all

the varieties, it has thence obtained the distinctive name of “cissos.”

The chamæcissos,[2601] on the other hand, is never found except

creeping upon the ground.

CHAP. 63. (35.)—THE SMILAX.

Very similar to the ivy is a plant which first came from Cilicia,

but is now more commonly found in Greece, and known by the name of

smilax.[2602] It has numerous thick stalks covered with joints, and

thorny branches of a shrub-like form: the leaf resembles that of the

ivy, but is not angular, while from the foot-stalk it throws out

tendrils; the flower is white, and has the smell of the lily. It bears

clusters like those of the wild vine and not the ivy, and of a reddish

colour. The larger berries contain three stones, the smaller but one

only: these berries are black and hard. This plant is looked upon as

ill-omened, and is consequently banished from all sacred rites, and

is allowed to form no part of chaplets; having received this mournful

character from the maiden Smilax, who upon her love being slighted by

the youth Crocus, was transformed into this shrub. The common people,

being mostly ignorant of this, not unfrequently take it for ivy, and

pollute their festivities with its presence; for who, in fact, is

unaware that the ivy is used as a chaplet by poets, as also by Father

Liber and Silenus? Tablets are made[2603] of the wood of the smilax,

and it is a peculiarity of this wood to give out a slight sound,[2604]

if held close to the ear. It is said that ivy is remarkably efficacious

for testing wine, and that a vessel made of this wood will let the wine

pass through it, while the water will remain behind, if there has been

any mixed with it.[2605]

CHAP. 64. (36.)—WATER PLANTS: THE RUSH: TWENTY-EIGHT VARIETIES OF THE

REED.

Among those plants which thrive best in cold localities, it will be

only proper to mention the aquatic shrubs.[2606] In the first rank, we

find the reed, equally indispensable for the emergencies of war and

peace, and used among the appliances[2607] of luxury even. The northern

nations make use of reeds for roofing their houses, and the stout

thatch thus formed will last for centuries even; in other countries,

too, they make light vaulted ceilings with them. Reeds are employed,

too, for writing upon paper, those of Egypt more particularly, which

have a close affinity to the papyrus: the most esteemed, however, are

the reeds of Cnidos, and those which grow in Asia, on the margin of the

Anaitic Lake[2608] there.

The reed of our country is naturally of a more fungous nature, being

formed of a spongy cartilage, which is hollow within, and covered by a

thin, dry, woody coat without; it easily breaks into splinters, which

are remarkably sharp at the edge. In other respects, it is of a thin,

graceful shape, articulated with joints, and tapering gradually towards

the top, which ends in a thick, hairy tuft. This tuft is not without

its uses, as it is employed for filling the beds used in taverns,

in place of feathers; or else, when it has assumed a more ligneous

consistency, it is pounded, as we see done among the Belgæ, and

inserted between the joints of ships, to close the seams, a thing that

it does most effectually, being more tenacious than glue, and adhering

more firmly than pitch.

CHAP. 65.—REEDS USED FOR ARROWS, AND FOR THE PURPOSE OF WRITING.

It is by the aid of the reed[2609] that the nations of the East decide

their wars; fixing in it a barbed point, they inflict a wound from

which the arrow cannot be withdrawn. By the addition of feathers they

accelerate the flight of this instrument of death, and the weapon, if

it breaks in the wound, furnishes the combatants with a weapon afresh.

With these missiles the warriors darken the very rays of the sun.[2610]

It is for this reason more particularly that they desire a clear and

serene sky, and hold in abhorrence all windy and rainy weather, which

has the effect of compelling them, in spite of themselves, to be at

peace with one another.

If a person were carefully to enumerate the peoples of Æthiopia, Egypt,

Arabia, India, Scythia, Bactria, and Sarmatia, together with all the

numerous peoples of the East, and the vast realms of the Parthians, he

would find that fully one-half of mankind throughout the whole world

live under a dominion imposed by the agency of the arrow. It was their

surpassing excellence in this arm that so ennobled the warriors of

Crete, though in this respect, as well as in all others, Italy has

gained the mastery; there being no reed in existence better adapted for

making arrows than that found in the Rhenus, a river of the territory

of Bononia: filled with a greater quantity of pith than any of the

others, it is light, and easily cleaves the air, while at the same

time it has sufficient weight to resist the action of the wind; an

advantage that is not possessed in an equal degree by those employed

among the Belgæ. These advantages, however, are possessed by the most

approved kinds that are found in Crete, although those of India are

preferred; in the opinion of some persons, however, these last are of

a totally different nature, for by adding a point to them, the natives

are able to use them as lances even. Indeed, we find that in India the

reed grows to the thickness of a tree, a fact which is proved by the

specimens which are everywhere to be seen in our temples. The Indians

assure us that in this plant, too, there is the distinction of male and

female; the body of the male being more compact, and that of the female

of a larger size. In addition to this, if we can credit the fact, a

single compartment between the joints is sufficiently large to answer

the purposes of a boat.[2611] These reeds are found more particularly

on the banks of the river Acesines.

In every variety of the reed a single root gives birth to numerous

stems, and if cut down, they will shoot again with increased fecundity.

The root, which is naturally tenacious of life, is also jointed as well

as the stem. The reeds of India are the only ones in which the leaves

are short; but in all the varieties these leaves take their rise at

the joints, and surround the stem with a fine tissue about half way

upwards to the next joint, and then leave the stem and droop downwards.

The reed, as well as the calamus, although rounded, has two sides,

which throw out leaves alternately from above the joints, in such a

way that when one springs from the right side, the next issues from

the joint above it on the left, and so in turns. Branches, too, shoot

occasionally from the stem, being themselves reeds of diminutive growth.

CHAP. 66.—FLUTE REEDS: THE REED OF ORCHOMENUS; REEDS USED FOR FOWLING

AND FISHING.

The varieties of the reed are numerous. Some are more compact than

others, thicker at the joints, and with a shorter interval between

them; while others, again, are less compact, with longer intervals

between the joints, and not so straight. Another kind of reed is quite

hollow; it is known as the “syringia,”[2612] and is particularly useful

for making flutes, having neither pith in it nor any fleshy substance.

The reed of Orchomenus has a passage in it open from one end to the

other, and is known as the auleticon;[2613] this last is best for

making pipes,[2614] the former[2615] for the syrinx. There is another

reed, the wood of which is thicker, and the passage very contracted,

being entirely filled with a spongy kind of pith. One kind, again, is

shorter, and another longer, the one thinner, the other more thick.

That known as the donax, throws out the most shoots, and grows only in

watery localities; indeed, this is a point which constitutes a very

considerable difference, those reeds being greatly preferred which

grow in a dry soil. The archer’s reed forms a peculiar species, as we

have already stated;[2616] but that of Crete[2617] has the longest

intervals between the joints, and when subjected to heat is capable of

being rendered perfectly pliable[2618] at pleasure. The leaves, too,

constitute different varieties, not only by their number, but their

colour also. The reed of Laconia is spotted,[2619] and throws out a

greater number of shoots at the lower extremities; being very similar

in nature, it is thought, to the reeds that we find growing about

stagnant waters, and unlike those of the rivers, in being covered with

leaves of considerable length; which, climbing upwards, embrace the

stem to a considerable distance above the joints. There is also an

obliquely-spreading reed, which does not shoot upwards to any height,

but spreads out like a shrub, keeping close to the earth; this reed

is much sought by animals when young, and is known by some persons as

the elegia.[2620] There is in Italy, too, a substance found in the

marsh-reeds, called by the name of adarca:[2621] it is only to be found

issuing from the outer skin, below the flossy head of the plant, and is

particularly beneficial to the teeth, having, in fact, an equal degree

of pungency with mustard.

The terms of admiration in which they are spoken of by the ancients

compels me to enter into some more minute details relative to the

reed-beds of Lake Orchomenus. Characias[2622] was the name given there

to a reed of stout and compact quality, while a thinner one was known

as the plotias; this last was to be found growing on the floating

islands there, while the former grew upon the banks that were covered

by the waters of the lake. A third kind again, which had the name of

“auleticon,” was the same that is now known as the musical pipe[2623]

reed. This reed used to take nine years to grow, as it was for that

period that the waters of the lake were continually on the increase;

it used to be looked upon as a prodigy of evil omen, if at the end of

its rise its waters remained overflowing so long as a couple of years;

a thing that was observed at the period of the Athenian disasters at

Cheronæa, and on various other occasions. This lake has the name of

Lebaida, at the part where the river Cephisus enters it.

When this inundation has lasted so long as a year, the reed is found

large enough to be available for the purposes of fowling: at this

period it used to be called zeugites.[2624] On the other hand, when

the waters subsided at an earlier period, the reeds were known as

bombyciæ,[2625] being of a more slender form. In this variety, too,

the leaf of the female plant was broader and whiter than that of the

others, while that upon which there was little or no down bore the

name of the eunuch reed. The stem of this last variety was used for

the manufacture of concert[2626] flutes. I must not here pass by in

silence the marvellous care which the ancients lavished upon these

instruments, a thing which will, in some measure, plead as an apology

for the manufacture of them at the present day of silver in preference.

The reed used to be cut, as it was then looked upon as being in the

best condition, at the rising of Arcturus;[2627] an usage which

prevailed down to the time of Antigenides, the musician, and while

flute-playing was of a more simple style. Being thus prepared, the

reeds became fit for use in the course of a few years. At that period

even the reed required considerable seasoning to render it pliable,

and to be instructed, as it were, in the proper modulation of its

sounds; the mouth-piece and stops[2628] being naturally contracted,

and so producing a music better adapted to the theatrical taste of

the day. But in later times, when the music became more varied, and

luxury began to exercise its influence upon the musical taste, it

became the general usage to cut the reeds before the summer solstice,

and to make them fit for use at the end of three months; the stops and

mouth-piece being found, when the reeds were cut at that period, to be

more open and better adapted for the modifications of sound: it is in

this state that the reed is used for similar purposes at the present

day. In those times it was a very general persuasion also, that every

pipe ought to have the tongue of its own mouth-piece cut from the same

reed as itself, and that a section from the part nearest the root

was best adapted to form the left-handed flute,[2629] and from the

part adjoining the top the right-handed one: those reeds, too, were

considered immeasurably superior, which had been washed by the waters

of Cephisus itself.

At the present day the sacrificial pipes used by the Tuscans are

made of box-wood, while those employed at the games are made of the

lotus,[2630] the bones of the ass, or else silver. The fowler’s reeds

of the best quality are those of Panormus,[2631] and the best reeds for

fishing-rods come from Abarita in Africa.[2632]

CHAP. 67.—THE VINE-DRESSERS’ REED.

The reed is employed in Italy more particularly, as a support for

the vine. Cato[2633] recommends that it should be planted in a damp

situation, the soil being first turned up with a double mattock, and a

distance of three feet left between the young[2634] layers; he says,

too, that the wild asparagus[2635] from which the cultivated species is

produced, may be planted together with it, as they agree particularly

well together.

(37.) He says also that the willow may be planted in its vicinity, than

which there is no aquatic plant of more general utility, although the

poplar may be preferred for the training of the vine, and the support

of the Cæcuban grape; although, too, the alder affords a more efficient

protection by the hedges it forms, and, planted in the very water,

makes a rampart along the banks in defence of the adjoining country

against the violence of the rivers when they overflow; when cut down,

too, this last tree is useful for the innumerable suckers which it

throws out.

CHAP. 68.—- THE WILLOW: EIGHT VARIETIES OF IT.

Of the willow, too, there are several varieties. One[2636] of them

throws out its branches to a considerable height; and these, coupled

together, serve as perches for the vine, while the bark around the

tree itself is used for withes.[2637] Others,[2638] again, of a more

pliable nature, supply a flexible twig, which is used for the purpose

of tying; while others throw out osiers of remarkable thinness, adapted

by their suppleness and graceful slenderness for the manufacture of

wicker-work.[2639] Others, again, of a stouter make, are used for

weaving panniers, and many other utensils employed in agriculture;

while from a whiter willow the bark is peeled off, and, being

remarkably tractable, admits of various utensils being made of it,

which require a softer and more pliable material than leather: this

last is also found particularly useful in the construction of those

articles of luxury, reclining chairs. The willow, when cut, continues

to thrive, and, indeed, throws out more thickly from the top, which,

when closely clipped, bears a stronger resemblance to a closed fist

than the top of a stump. It is a tree, which, in my opinion, deserves

to be placed by no means in the lowest rank of trees; for there is none

that will yield a more certain profit, which can be cultivated at less

expense, or which is less liable to be influenced by changes in the

weather.

CHAP. 69.—TREES IN ADDITION TO THE WILLOW, WHICH ARE OF USE IN MAKING

WITHES.

Cato[2640] considers the culture of the willow as deserving to hold the

third rank in estimation, and he gives it precedence to the cultivation

of the olive, tillage for corn, or laying out land for pasture. It is

not, however, because the willow is the only tree that produces withes;

for they may be procured also from the broom, the poplar, the elm,

the blood-red cornel, the birch, and the reed itself when split, or

else the leaves of that plant, as we know to be the case in Liguria.

The vine, also, will furnish them; the bramble, too, with the thorns

removed, as well as the twisted hazel. It is a very singular thing,

that a wood after it has been beaten and pounded should be found all

the stronger for making withes, but such is a striking peculiarity that

exists in the willow. The Greek red[2641] willow is split for this

purpose: while the willow[2642] of Ameria is whiter but more brittle,

for which reason it is used in an uncut state for tying. In Asia there

are three varieties known of the willow; the black[2643] willow, which

is best adapted for making withes, the white willow, employed for

various agricultural purposes, and a third, which is shorter than the

others, and known as the helix.[2644]

With us, also, there is the same number of denominations given to as

many varieties of the willow; one being known as the viminal or purple

willow,[2645] another as the nitelina,[2646] from its resemblance to

the colour of the nitela, thinner in the trunk than the preceding one,

and the third as the Gallic[2647] kind, being the thinnest of them all.

CHAP. 70.—RUSHES: CANDLE-RUSHES: RUSHES FOR THATCHING.

The rush,[2648] so frail in form, and growing in marshy spots, cannot

be reckoned as belonging to the shrubs, nor yet to the brambles or the

stalk plants; nor, indeed, in strict justice, to any of the classes of

plants except one that is peculiarly its own. It is extensively used

for making thatch and matting, and, with the outer coat taken off, for

making candles and funeral torches. In some places, however, the rush

is more hard and firm: thus, for instance, it is employed not only

by the sailors on the Padus for making the sails of boats, but for

the purposes of sea-fishing as well, by the fishermen of Africa, who,

in a most preposterous manner, hang the sails made of it behind the

masts.[2649] The people, too, of Mauritania thatch their cottages[2650]

with rushes; indeed, if we look somewhat closely into the matter, it

will appear that the rush is held in pretty nearly the same degree

of estimation there as the papyrus is in the inner regions of the

world.[2651]

CHAP. 71.—THE ELDER: THE BRAMBLE.

Of a peculiar nature, too, though to be reckoned among the

water[2652]-plants, is the bramble, a shrub-like plant, and the elder,

which is of a spongy nature, though not resembling giant fennel,

from having upon it a greater quantity of wood. It is a belief among

the shepherds that if they cut a horn or trumpet from the wood of

this tree, it will give all the louder sound if cut in a spot where

the shrub has been out of hearing of the crowing of the cock. The

bramble bears mulberries,[2653] and one variety of it, known as the

cynosbatos,[2654] bears a flower similar to the rose. There is a third

variety, known to the Greeks as the Idæan[2655] bramble, from the place

where it grows: it is slighter than the others, with smaller thorns,

and not so hooked. Its flower, mixed with honey, is employed as an

ointment for sore eyes and erysipelas: and an infusion of it in water

is used for diseases of the stomach.[2656]

The elder[2657] bears a small black berry, which contains a viscous

juice, employed more particularly for staining[2658] the hair. The

berries, too, are boiled in water and eaten.[2659]

CHAP. 72. (38.)—THE JUICES OF TREES.

There is a juice in the bark of trees, which must be looked upon as

their blood, though it is not of a similar nature in all. In the fig it

is of a milky consistency, and has the peculiar property of curdling

milk, and so forming cheese.[2660] In the cherry-tree this juice is

gummy, in the elm clammy, in the apple viscous and fatty, while in the

vine and the pear it is watery. The more viscous this humour is, the

more long-lived the tree. In a word, we find in the bodies of trees—as

with all other beings that are animated—skin, blood, flesh, sinews,

veins, bones, and marrow; the bark serving them in place of skin. It is

a singular fact connected with the mulberry-tree, that when the medical

men wish to extract its juice, if the incision is lightly made, by a

blow with a stone, and at the second hour of the day in spring, the

juice will flow: but if, on the other hand, a wound is inflicted to any

depth, it has all the appearance of being dried up.

Immediately beneath the bark in most trees there is a fatty substance,

which, from its colour, has obtained the name of alburnum:[2661] it is

soft, and is the very worst part of the wood, and in the robur even

will very easily rot, being particularly liable to wood-worm, for which

reason it is invariably removed. Beneath this fat lies the flesh[2662]

of the tree, and then under that, its bones, or, in other words, the

choicest part of the wood. Those trees which have a dry wood, the

olive, for instance, bear fruit every other year only: this is more the

case with them than with those the wood of which is of a fleshy nature,

such as the cherry, for instance. It is not all trees, too, that have

this fat and flesh in any abundance, the same as we find to be the

case among the more active animals. The box, the cornel, and the olive

have none at all, nor yet any marrow, and a very small proportion,

too, of blood. In the same way, too, the service-tree has no bones,

and the elder no flesh, while both of them have marrow in the greatest

abundance. Reeds, too, have hardly any flesh.

CHAP. 73.—THE VEINS AND FIBRES OF TREES.

In the flesh of some trees we find both fibres[2663] and veins: they

are easily distinguished. The veins[2664] are larger, while the fibres

are of whiter material, and are to be found in those woods more

particularly which are easily split. Hence it is that if the ear is

applied to the extremity of a beam of wood, however long, a tap with

a graver[2665] even upon the other end may be distinctly heard, the

sound penetrating by the passages which run straight through it: by

these means it is that we ascertain whether timber runs awry, or is

interrupted by knots. The tuberosities which we find on trees resemble

the kernels[2666] that are formed in flesh: they contain neither

veins nor fibres, but only a kind of tough, solid flesh, rolled up in

a sort of ball: it is these tuberosities that are the most esteemed

parts[2667] in the citrus and the maple. As to the other kinds of wood

which are employed for making tables, the trees are split into planks

lengthwise, and the parts are then selected along which the fibres

run, and properly rounded; for the wood would be too brittle to use if

it were cut in segments crosswise.[2668] In the beech, the grain of

the fibrous part runs crosswise;[2669] hence it is that the ancients

held in such high esteem all vessels made with the wood of it. Manius

Curius made oath, on one occasion, that he had not touched an article

of all the spoil except a single oil cruet[2670] of beech, to use for

sacrificing. Wood is always put lengthwise into the water to season,

as that part which was nearest the root will sink to a greater[2671]

depth than the other. In some wood there is fibre, without veins,

and merely consisting of filaments slightly knit together: wood of

this nature is remarkably fissile. Other wood, again, is more easily

broken across than split, such as the wood of those trees that have no

fibre, the olive and the vine, for instance: on the other hand, in the

fig-tree, the whole of the body consists of flesh.[2672] The holm-oak,

the cornel, the robur, the cytisus, the mulberry, the ebony, the lotus,

and the other trees which we have mentioned[2673] as being destitute

of marrow, consist entirely of bone.[2674] All these woods are of a

blackish colour, with the exception of the cornel, of which glossy

yellow hunting-spears are made, marked with incisions for their further

embellishment. In the cedar, the juniper, and the larch, the wood is

red.

(39.) In Greece the female larch furnishes a wood[2675] which is known

as ægis, and is just the colour of honey. This wood has been found to

be proof against decay, and forms the pannels used by painters, being

never known to gape or split; the portion thus employed is that which

lies nearest to the pith. In the fir-tree this part is called “leuson”

by the Greeks. In the cedar, too, the hardest part is the wood that

lies nearest to the sap: after the slimy[2676] pith has been carefully

removed, it has a similar degree of hardness to the bones in the bodies

of animals. It is said, too, that in Greece the inner part of the elder

is remarkably firm: indeed, those whose business it is to make hunting

spears, prefer this material to all others, it being a wood composed

wholly of skin and bone.

CHAP. 74.—THE FELLING OF TREES.

The proper time for felling trees that are wanted for barking, the

round, tapering trees, for instance, that are employed in temples and

for other purposes, is at the period of germination:[2677] for at

other times it is quite impossible to detach the bark from the rotten

wood that adheres to it, while the wood itself assumes a blackish

hue. Squared logs, and wood from which the bark has been lopped, are

generally cut in the period that intervenes between the winter solstice

and the prevalence of the west winds; or else, if it is necessary to

anticipate that period, at the setting of Arcturus and before that of

the Lyre, the very earliest period being the summer solstice: the days

of these respective constellations will be mentioned in the appropriate

place.[2678]

In general it is looked upon as quite sufficient to use all due

precaution that a tree is not rough-hewn before it has borne its

yearly crop. The robur, if cut in spring, is subject to the attacks

of wood-worm, but if cut in winter, will neither rot nor warp:

otherwise it is very liable to bend and become awry, as well as to

crack; the same is the case, too, with the cork-tree, even if cut

down at the proper time. The state of the moon,[2679] too, is of

infinite importance, and it is generally recommended that trees

should be cut only between the twentieth and the thirtieth days of

the month. It is generally agreed, however, by all, that it is the

very best time for felling timber, when the moon is in conjunction

with the sun, a day which is called by some persons the interlunium,

and by others the moon’s silence. At all events, it was under these

circumstances that Tiberius Cæsar gave orders for the larches to be

cut in Rhætia, that were required for the purpose of rebuilding the

bridge of the Naumachia[2680] after it had been destroyed by fire.

Some persons say that the moon ought not only to be in conjunction,

but below the horizon as well, a thing that can only happen in the

night. If the conjunction should chance to fall on the very day of the

winter solstice, the timber, they say, that is then felled will be of

everlasting duration; the next best being the timber that is cut when

the conjunction coincides with the constellations previously mentioned.

There are some, too, who add the rising of the Dog-star as a favourable

time, and say that it was at this period that the timber was cut which

was employed in building the Forum of Augustus.

Wood which is intended for timber ought to be cut neither when too

young nor too old. Some persons, too—and the practice is by no means

without its utility—cut round[2681] the tree as far as the pith, and

then leave the timber standing, so that all the juices may be enabled

to escape. Going back to ancient times, it is a remarkable fact, that

in the first Punic War the fleet commanded by Duillius was on the water

within sixty days from the time the timber was cut: and, what is still

more so, Piso relates that King Hiero had two hundred and twenty ships

wholly constructed in forty-five days: in the second Punic War, too,

the fleet of Scipio was at sea the fortieth day after the axe had been

put to the tree. Such is the energy and dispatch that can be displayed

on occasions of emergency.

CHAP. 75.—THE OPINION OF CATO ON THE FELLING OF TIMBER.

Cato,[2682] a man of consummate authority in all practical matters,

expresses himself in relation to timber to the following effect:—“For

making presses, employ the wood of the sappinus in preference. When

you root up the elm, the pine, the nut-tree, or, indeed, any other

kind of tree, mind and do so when the moon is on the wane, after

midday, and when there is no south wind blowing. The proper time for

cutting a tree is when the seed[2683] is ripe, but be careful not to

draw it away or plane it while the dew is falling.” He then proceeds

to say[2684]—“Never touch the timber, except when the moon is on the

change, or else at the end of the second quarter: at those periods you

may either root up the tree, or fell it as it stands. The next seven

days after the full moon are the best of all for grubbing up a tree. Be

particularly careful, too, not to rough-hew timber, or, indeed, to cut

or touch it, unless it is perfectly dry; and by no means while it is

covered with frost or dew.”

The Emperor Tiberius used also to observe the changes of the moon for

cutting his hair.[2685] M. Varro[2686] has recommended that the hair

should be cut at full moon only, if we would avoid baldness.

CHAP. 76.—THE SIZE OF TREES: THE NATURE OF WOOD: THE SAPPINUS.

From the larch, and still more the fir, after it has been cut, a

liquid[2687] flows for a considerable period: these are the loftiest

and straightest of all the trees. The fir is preferred for making the

masts and sailyards of ships, on account of its comparative lightness.

It is a common feature with these trees, in common with the pine,

to have four rows of veins running along the wood, or else two, or

sometimes only one. The heart[2688] of these trees is peculiarly well

adapted for joiners’ work, and the best wood of all is that which has

four layers of veins, it being softer than the rest: men of experience

in these matters can instantly form a judgment of the quality from

the bark. That part in the fir which is nearest to the ground is free

from knots: when soaked in river water in the way we have already

mentioned,[2689] and then barked, the wood of this part is known[2690]

as sappinus; while that of the upper part, which is harder and knotty,

goes by the name of “fusterna.” In trees, the side which looks towards

the north-east is the most robust, and it is universally the case, that

those which grow in moist and damp localities are of inferior quality,

while in those which grow in warm and sunny spots, the wood is more

compact and durable; hence it is, that at Rome the fir is preferred

that grows on the shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea to that of the shores of

the Adriatic.

There are also considerable differences in the qualities of these trees

according to the country of their growth: the most esteemed are those

of the Alps and the Apennines; in Gaul, those of Jura[2691] and Mount

Vogesus; those also of Corsica, Bithynia, Pontus, and Macedonia; while

the firs of Ænea[2692] and Arcadia are of inferior quality. Those,

however, of Parnassus and Eubœa are the worst of all, the trees being

branchy and knotted, and the wood very apt to rot. As for the cedar,

those of Crete, Africa, and Syria are the most esteemed. Wood, if well

rubbed with oil of cedar, is proof against wood-worm and decay. The

juniper, too, has the same[2693] virtues as the cedar; in Spain it

grows to a very considerable size, in the territory of the Vaccæi[2694]

more particularly: the heart of this tree, too, is universally more

firm and solid than cedar even. A general fault in all wood is that

known as cross-grain, which is formed by contortions of the knots

and veins.[2695] In the wood of some trees there are to be found

knurs,[2696] like those in marble; these knurs are remarkably hard, and

offer a resistance like that of a nail, to the great injury of the saw:

in some cases, also, they are formed accidentally, from either a stone,

or the branch of another tree lodging there, and being absorbed in the

body of the tree.

In the Forum at Megara there long stood a wild olive upon which

warriors who had distinguished themselves by their martial powers

had been in the habit of suspending their arms. In the lapse of time

the bark of this tree had closed, and quite concealed these arms from

view. Upon it, however, depended the fate of the city; for it had been

announced by an oracle, that when a tree there should bring forth arms,

the fall of the city would be close at hand: and such, in fact, was

the result, when the tree was cut down and greaves and helmets were

found within the wood.[2697] It is said that stones found under these

circumstances have the property of preventing abortion.

(40.) It is generally thought that the largest[2698] tree that has ever

been seen, was the one that was exhibited at Rome, by Tiberius Cæsar,

as an object of curiosity, upon the bridge of the Naumachia previously

mentioned.[2699] It had been brought thither along with other timber,

and was preserved till the construction of the amphitheatre of the

Emperor Nero:[2700] it was a log of larch, one hundred and twenty feet

long, and of an uniform thickness of a couple of feet. From this fact

we can form an estimate of the original height of the tree; indeed,

measured from top to bottom it must have been originally of a length

that is almost incredible. In our own time, too, in the porticos of the

Septa,[2701] there was a log which had been left there by M. Agrippa,

as being equally an object of curiosity, having been found too large to

be used in the building of the vote office[2702] there: it was twenty

feet shorter than the one previously mentioned, and a foot-and-a-half

in thickness. There was a fir, too, that was particularly admired, when

it formed the mast of the ship, which brought from Egypt, by order of

the Emperor Caius,[2703] the obelisk[2704] that was erected in the

Vaticanian Circus, with the four blocks of stone intended for its base.

It is beyond all doubt that there has been seen nothing on the sea

more wonderful than this ship: one hundred and twenty thousand modii

of lentils formed its ballast; and the length of it took up the greater

part of the left side of the harbour at Ostia. It was sunk at that spot

by order of the Emperor Claudius, three moles, each as high as a tower,

being built upon it; they were constructed with cement[2705] which the

same vessel had conveyed from Puteoli. It took the arms of four men

to span the girth of this tree, and we not unfrequently hear of the

price of masts for such purposes, as being eighty thousand sesterces or

more: rafts, too, of this wood are sometimes put together, the value

of which is forty thousand. In Egypt and Syria, it is said, the kings,

for want of fir, used to employ cedar[2706] for building their ships:

the largest cedar that we find mentioned is said to have come from

Cyprus, where it was cut to form the mast of a galley of eleven tiers

of oars that belonged to Demetrius: it was one hundred and thirty feet

in length, and took three men to span its girth. The pirates of Germany

navigate their seas in vessels formed of a single tree hollowed[2707]

out: some of these will hold as many as thirty men.

Of all woods, the most compact, and consequently the heaviest, are the

ebony and the box, both of them of a slender make. Neither of these

woods will float in water, nor, indeed, will that of the cork tree,

if the bark is removed; the same is the case, too, with the wood of

the larch. Of the other woods, the driest is that of the tree known at

Rome as the lotus,[2708] and next, that of the robur, when the white

sap has been removed. The wood of the robur is dark, and that of the

cytisus[2709] still more so, approaching, in fact, the nearest of all

to the colour of ebony; though there are not wanting writers who assert

that the wood of the Syrian terebinth is darker.[2710] An artist of the

name of Thericles is highly spoken of for his skill in turning goblets

from the wood of the terebinth: and, indeed, that fact is a proof of

the goodness of the wood. Terebinth is the only wood that requires to

be rubbed with oil, and is improved thereby. Its colour is imitated

remarkably well with the walnut and the wild pear, which have its

peculiar tint imparted to them by being boiled in colouring liquid.

The wood of all the trees of which we have here made mention is firm

and compact. Next after them comes the cornel, although it can hardly

be looked upon as timber, in consequence of its remarkable slimness;

the wood of it, in fact, is used for hardly any other purpose than the

spokes of wheels, or else for making wedges for splitting wood, and

pins or bolts, which have all the hardness of those of iron. Besides

these, there are the holm-oak, the wild and the cultivated olive, the

chesnut, the yoke-elm, and the poplar. This last is mottled similarly

to the maple, and would be used for joiners’ work if wood could be good

for anything when the branches are so often lopped: that acting upon

the tree as a sort of castration, and depriving it of its strength.

In addition to these facts, most of these trees, but the robur more

particularly, are so extremely hard, that it is quite impossible to

bore the wood till it has been soaked in water; and even then, a nail

once driven home cannot be drawn out again. On the other hand, a nail

has no[2711] hold in cedar. The wood of the lime is the softest of all,

and, as it would appear, the hottest by nature; a proof of this, they

say, is the fact that it will turn the edge of the adze sooner than any

other wood.[2712] In the number, also, of the trees that are hot by

nature, are the mulberry, the laurel, the ivy, and all those woods from

which fire is kindled by attrition.

CHAP. 77.—METHODS OF OBTAINING FIRE FROM WOOD.

This is a method[2713] which has been employed by the outposts of

armies, and by shepherds, on occasions when there has not been a stone

at hand to strike fire with. Two pieces of wood are rubbed briskly

together, and the friction soon sets them on fire; which is caught on

dry and inflammable substances, funguses and leaves being found to

ignite the most readily. There is nothing superior to the wood of the

ivy for rubbing against, or to that of the laurel for rubbing with.

A species of wild vine,[2714] too—not the same as the labrusca—which

climbs up other trees like the ivy, is highly approved of. The

coldest[2715] woods of all are those of the aquatic trees; but they are

the most flexible also, and for that reason the best adapted for the

construction of bucklers. On an incision being made in them, they will

contract immediately, and so close up their wounds, at the same time

rendering it more difficult for the iron to penetrate: in the number of

these woods are the fig, the willow, the lime, the birch, the elder,

and both varieties of the poplar.

The lightest of all these woods, and consequently the most useful, are

the fig and the willow. They are all of them employed, however, in the

manufacture of baskets and other utensils of wicker-work; while, at

the same time, they possess a degree of whiteness and hardness which

render them very well adapted for carving. The plane has considerable

flexibility, but it is moist and slimy like the alder. The elm, too,

the ash, the mulberry, and the cherry, are flexible, but of a drier

nature; the wood, however, is more weighty. The elm is the best of all

for retaining its natural toughness, and hence it is more particularly

employed for socket beams for hinges, and cases for the pannelling of

doors, being proof against warping. It is requisite, however, that the

beam to receive the hinge should be inverted when set up, the top of

the tree answering to the lower hinge, the root to the upper. The wood

of the palm and the cork-tree is soft, while that of the apple and the

pear is compact. Such, however, is not the case with the maple, its

wood being brittle, as, in fact, all veined woods are. In every kind

of tree, the varieties in the wood are still more augmented by the

wild trees and the males. The wood, too, of the barren tree is more

solid than that of the fruit-bearing ones, except in those species in

which the male trees[2716] bear fruit, the cypress and the cornel, for

instance.

CHAP. 78.—TREES WHICH ARE PROOF AGAINST DECAY: TREES WHICH NEVER SPLIT.

The following trees are proof against decay and the otherwise

injurious effects of age—the cypress, the cedar, the ebony, the lotus,

the box, the yew, the juniper, and both the wild and cultivated olive.

Among the others, the larch, the robur, the cork-tree, the chesnut, and

the walnut are also remarkably durable. The cedar, cypress, olive, and

box are never known to split or crack spontaneously.

CHAP. 79.—HISTORICAL FACTS CONNECTED WITH THE DURABILITY OF WOOD.

Of all the woods, the ebony, the cypress, and the cedar are considered

to be the most durable, a good proof of which is to be seen in the

timber of which the Temple of Diana at Ephesus is built: it being now

four hundred years since it was erected, at the joint expense of the

whole of Asia;[2717] and, what is a well-known fact, the roof is wholly

constructed of planks of cedar. As to the statue of the goddess, there

is some doubt of what wood it is made; all the writers say that it is

ebony, with the exception of Mucianus, who was three times consul, one

of the very latest among the writers that have seen it; he declares

that it is made of the wood of the vine, and that it has never been

changed all the seven times that the temple has been rebuilt. He says,

too, that it was Endæus who made choice of this wood, and even goes

so far as to mention the artist’s name, a thing that really surprises

me very much, seeing that he attributes to it an antiquity that dates

before the times of Father Liber, and of Minerva even. He states, also,

that, by the aid of numerous apertures, it is soaked with nard, in

order that the moist nature of that drug may preserve the wood and keep

the seams[2718] close together: I am rather surprised, however, that

there should be any seams in the statue, considering the very moderate

size it is. He informs us, also, that the doors are made of cypress,

and that the wood, which has now lasted very nearly four hundred years,

has all the appearance of new.[2719] It is worthy of remark, too, that

the wood of these doors, after the pieces had been glued together, was

left to season four years before they were put up: cypress was made

choice of from the circumstance that it is the only kind of wood that

maintains its polish to all future time.

And have we not the statue of Vejovis,[2720] also, made of cypress,

still preserved in the Capitol, where it was consecrated in the year

of the City 661? The Temple of Apollo, too, at Utica, is equally

celebrated: there we may see beams of cedar still in existence, and in

just the same condition in which they were when erected at the first

building of that city, eleven hundred and seventy-eight years ago. At

Saguntum, too, in Spain, there is a temple of Diana, which was brought

thither by the original founders of the place, from the island of

Zacynthus, in the year 200 before the taking of Troy, Bocchus says—It

is preserved beneath the town, they say. Hannibal, being induced

thereto by feelings of religious veneration, spared this temple, and

its beams, made of juniper, are still in existence at this very day.

But the most memorable instance of all is that of the temple which

was dedicated to the same goddess at Aulis, several ages before the

Trojan War: of what wood, however, it was originally built is a fact

that has been long lost in oblivion. Speaking in general terms, we may

say that those woods are of the greatest durability which are the most

odoriferous.[2721]

Next to those woods of which we have just spoken, that of the mulberry

is held in the highest degree of esteem, and it will even turn black

when old. There are some trees, again, that are more durable than

others, when employed for certain purposes. The wood of the elm lasts

the best in the open air, that of the robur when buried in the ground,

and that of the quercus when exposed to the action of water: indeed,

the wood of this last, if employed in works above ground, is apt to

split and warp. The wood of the larch thrives best in the midst of

moisture; the same is the case, too, with that of the black alder. The

wood of the robur spoils by exposure to the action of sea-water. The

beech and the walnut are far from disapproved of for constructions

under water, and, in fact, these are the principal woods, too, that

are used for works under ground: the same is the case, also, with the

juniper; which is equally serviceable when exposed to the atmosphere.

The woods of the beech and the cerrus[2722] very quickly deteriorate,

and that of the æsculus will not withstand the action of water. On

the other hand, the alder, when driven into the ground in marshy

localities, is of everlasting duration, and able to support the very

heaviest weights. The wood of the cherry is strong, while those of

the elm and the ash are pliable, though apt to warp: these last will

still retain their flexibility, and be less liable to warp, if the wood

is left to stand and dry upon the trunk after the pith has been cut

around.[2723] It is said that the larch, when used for sea-going ships,

is liable to the attacks[2724] of the teredo, as, in fact, all the

woods are, with the exception of the wild and cultivated olive. It is a

fact, too, that there are some woods that are more liable to spoil in

the sea, and others in the ground.

CHAP. 80. (41.)—VARIETIES OF THE TEREDO.

There are four kinds of insects that attack wood. The teredo has a

head remarkably large in proportion to the other part of the body, and

gnaws away the wood with its teeth: its attacks, however, are confined

solely to the sea, and it is generally thought that this is the only

insect that is properly so called. The wood-worm that prevails on the

land is known as the “tinea,” while those which resemble a gnat in

appearance are called “thripes.” The fourth kind of wood-worm belongs

to the maggot class; some of them being engendered by the corruption

of the juices of the wood itself, and others being produced, just

as in the trees, by the worm known as the cerastes.[2725] When this

worm has eaten away enough of the wood to enable it to turn round, it

gives birth to another. The generation of these insects is prevented,

however, by the bitterness that exists in some woods, the cypress, and

the hardness of others, the box, for instance.

It is said, too, that the fir, if barked about the time of budding, and

at the period of the moon already mentioned,[2726] will never spoil in

water. The followers of Alexander the Great have left a statement that,

at Tylos, an island in the Red Sea, there are trees, of which ships

are built, the wood of which has been found uninjured at the end of two

hundred years,[2727] even if it has been under water all that time.

They say, also, that in the same island there is a certain shrub,[2728]

about the thickness of a walking-stick only, and spotted like a tiger’s

skin: it is very heavy, and will break like glass if it happens to fall

upon a hard substance.

CHAP. 81. (42.)—THE WOODS USED IN BUILDING.

We have in Italy some woods that are apt to split of themselves: to

prevent this, architects recommend that they should be first seasoned

in manure[2729] and then dried, in order to render them proof against

the action of the atmosphere. The woods of the fir and larch are well

adapted, even when used transversely, for the support of heavy burdens;

while the robur and the olive are apt to bend and give way under a

weight. The wood of the poplar and the palm are also strong, but this

last will bend, though in a manner different from the others; for,

while in all other instances the wood bends downwards, in the palm it

bends in the contrary direction,[2730] and forms an arch. The woods

of the pine and the cypress are proof against decay and all attacks

of wood-worm. The walnut is easily warped, but we sometimes see beams

even made of it. It gives warning, however, before it breaks, by a loud

cracking noise; such was the case at Antandros, at the public baths

there—the bathers took the alarm upon hearing the beams crack, and made

their escape. The pine, the pitch-tree, and the alder are employed for

making hollow pipes for the conveyance of water, and when buried in the

earth will last for many years. If, however, they are not well covered

over, they will very soon rot; and the resistance they offer to decay

will increase in a most surprising degree if the outer surface as well

is left in contact with the water.

CHAP. 82.—CARPENTERS’ WOODS.

The wood of the fir is strongest in a vertical[2731] position: it is

remarkably well adapted for the pannels of doors, and all kinds of

in-door joiners’ work, whether in the Grecian, the Campanian, or the

Sicilian style. The shavings of this wood when briskly planed, always

curl up in circles like the tendrils of the vine. This wood, too,

unites particularly well with glue: it is used in this state for making

vehicles, and is found to split sooner in the solid parts than in a

place where the pieces have been glued together.

CHAP. 83. (43.)—WOODS UNITED WITH GLUE.

Glue, too, plays one of the principal parts in all veneering and works

of marqueterie. For this purpose, the workmen usually employ wood

with a threaded vein, to which they give the name of “ferulea,” from

its resemblance to the grain of the giant fennel,[2732] this part of

the wood being preferred from its being dotted and wavy. In every

variety there are some woods to be found that will not take the glue,

and which refuse to unite either with wood of the same kind or of any

other; the wood of the robur for example. Indeed, it is mostly the case

that substances will not unite unless they are of a similar nature; a

stone, for instance, cannot be made to adhere to wood. The wood of the

service-tree, the yoke-elm, the box, and, in a less degree, the lime,

have a particular aversion to uniting with the cornel. All the yielding

woods which we have already spoken[2733] of as flexible readily adapt

themselves to every kind of work; and in addition to them, the mulberry

and the wild fig. Those which are moderately moist are easily sawn

and cut, but dry woods are apt to give way beyond the part that is

touched by the saw; while, on the other hand, the green woods, with the

exception of the robur and the box, offer a more obstinate resistance,

filling the intervals between the teeth of the saw with sawdust, and

rendering its edge uniform and inert; it is for this reason that the

teeth are often made to project right and left in turns, a method by

which the saw-dust is discharged. The ash is found the most pliable

wood of all for working; and, indeed, for making[2734] spears it is

better even than the hazel, being lighter than the cornel, and more

pliable than the wood of the service-tree. The Gallic variety is so

supple, that it is employed in the construction of vehicles even. The

elm would rival the trunk of the vine[2735] for some purposes, were it

not that its weight is so much against it.

CHAP. 84.—VENEERING.

The wood, too, of the beech is easily worked, although it is brittle

and soft. Cut into thin layers of veneer, it is very flexible, but is

only used for the construction of boxes and desks. The wood, too, of

the holm-oak is cut into veneers of remarkable thinness, the colour

of which is far from unsightly; but it is more particularly where it

is exposed to friction that this wood is valued, as being one to be

depended upon; in the axle-trees of wheels, for instance; for which the

ash is also employed, on account of its pliancy, the holm-oak for its

hardness, and the elm, for the union in it of both those qualities.

There are also various workman’s tools made of wood, which, though

but small, are still remarkably useful; in this respect, it is said

that the best materials for making auger handles are the wild olive,

the box, the holm-oak, the elm, and the ash. Of the same woods also

mallets are made; the larger ones, however, are made of the pine and

the holm-oak. These woods, too, have a greater degree of strength

and hardness if cut in season than when hewn prematurely; indeed, it

has been known for hinge-jambs, made of olive, a wood of remarkable

hardness, after having remained a considerable time on the spot, to

put out buds[2736] like a growing plant. Cato[2737] recommends levers

to be made of holly, laurel, or elm; and Hyginus speaks highly of the

yoke-elm, the holm-oak, and the cerrus, for the handles of agricultural

implements.

The best woods for cutting into layers, and employing as a veneer for

covering others, are the citrus, the terebinth, the different varieties

of the maple, the box, the palm,[2738] the holly, the holm-oak, the

root of the elder, and the poplar. The alder furnishes also, as already

stated,[2739] a kind of tuberosity, which is cut into layers like those

of the citrus and the maple. In all the other trees the tuberosities

are of no value whatever. It is the central part of trees that is most

variegated, and the nearer we approach to the root the smaller are the

spots and the more wavy. It was in this appearance that originated that

requirement of luxury which displays itself in covering one tree with

another, and bestowing upon the more common woods a bark of higher

price. In order to make a single tree sell many times over, laminæ

of veneer have been devised; but that was not thought sufficient—the

horns of animals must next be stained of different colours, and their

teeth cut into sections, in order to decorate wood with ivory, and, at

a later period, to veneer it all over. Then, after all this, man must

go and seek his materials in the sea as well! For this purpose he has

learned to cut tortoise-shell into sections; and of late, in the reign

of Nero, there was a monstrous invention devised of destroying its

natural appearance by paint, and making it sell at a still higher price

by a successful imitation of wood.

It is in this way that the value of our couches is so greatly enhanced;

it is in this way, too, that they bid the rich lustre of the terebinth

to be outdone, a mock citrus to be made that shall be more valuable

than the real one, and the grain of the maple to be feigned. At one

time luxury was not content with wood; at the present day it sets us on

buying tortoise-shell in the guise of wood.

CHAP. 85. (44.)—THE AGE OF TREES. A TREE THAT WAS PLANTED BY THE FIRST

SCIPIO AFRICANUS. A TREE AT ROME FIVE HUNDRED YEARS OLD.

The life of some trees might really be looked upon as of infinite[2740]

duration, if we only think of the dense wilds and inaccessible forests

in some parts of the world. In relation, however, to those, the date

of which is still within the memory of man, there are some olive-trees

still in existence at Liternum, which were planted by the hand of the

first Scipio Africanus, as also a myrtle there of extraordinary size;

beneath them there is a grotto, in which, it is said, a dragon keeps

watch over that hero’s shade. There is a lotus[2741] tree in the open

space before the Temple of Lucina at Rome, which was built in the year

of the City 379, a year in which the republic had no[2742] magistrates.

How much older the tree is than the temple, is a matter of doubt; but

that it is older is quite certain, for it was from that same grove that

the goddess Lucina[2743] derived her name; the tree in question is now

about four hundred and fifty years old. The lotus tree, which is known

as the Capillata, is still older than this, though it is uncertain what

is its age; it received that name from the circumstance of the Vestal

Virgins suspending locks of their hair[2744] from it.

CHAP. 86.—TREES AS OLD AS THE CITY.

There is another lotus in the Vulcanal,[2745] which Romulus erected

with the tenth part of the spoil taken from the enemy: according to

Massurius, it is generally considered to be as old as the City. The

roots of this tree penetrate as far as the Forum of Cæsar, right across

the meeting-places of the municipalities.[2746] There was a cypress of

equal age growing with it till towards the latter part of Nero’s reign,

when it fell to the ground, and no attempts were made to raise it again.

CHAP. 87.—TREES IN THE SUBURBAN DISTRICTS OLDER THAN THE CITY.

Still older than the City is the holm-oak that stands on the Vaticanian

Hill: there is an inscription in bronze upon it, written in Etruscan

characters, which states that even in those days it was an object of

religious veneration. The foundation of the town of Tibur, too, dates

many years before that of the City of Rome: there are three holm-oaks

there, said to be more ancient than Tiburnus even, who was the

founder of that place; the tradition is that in their vicinity he was

inaugurated. Tradition states also that he was a son of Amphiaraüs, who

died before Thebes, one generation before the period of the Trojan war.

CHAP. 88.—TREES PLANTED BY AGAMEMNON THE FIRST YEAR OF THE TROJAN WAR:

OTHER TREES WHICH DATE FROM THE TIME THAT THE PLACE WAS CALLED ILIUM,

ANTERIOR TO THE TROJAN WAR.

There are some authors, too, who state that a plane-tree at Delphi was

planted by the hand of Agamemnon, as also another at Caphyæ, a sacred

grove in Arcadia. At the present day, facing the city of Ilium, and

close to the Hellespont, there are trees growing over the tomb[2747]

of Protesilaüs there, which, in all ages since that period, as soon as

they have grown of sufficient height to behold Ilium, have withered

away, and then begun to flourish again. Near the city, at the tomb of

Ilus, there are some oaks[2748] which are said to have been planted

there when the place was first known by the name of Ilium.

CHAP. 89.—TREES PLANTED AT ARGOS BY HERCULES: OTHERS PLANTED BY APOLLO.

A TREE MORE ANCIENT THAN ATHENS ITSELF.

At Argos[2749] an olive-tree is said to be still in existence, to

which Argus fastened Io, after she had been changed into a cow. In the

vicinity of Heraclea in Pontus, there are certain altars called after

Jupiter surnamed Stratios; two oaks there were planted by Hercules. In

the same country, too, is the port of Amycus,[2750] rendered famous by

the circumstance that King Bebryx was slain there. Since the day of

his death his tomb has been covered by a laurel, which has obtained

the name of the “frantic laurel,” from the fact that if a portion of

it is plucked and taken on board ship, discord and quarrelling are

the inevitable result, until it has been thrown overboard. We have

already made mention[2751] of Aulocrene, a district through which you

pass in going from Apamia into Phrygia: at this place they show a

plane upon which Marsyas was hanged, after he had been conquered by

Apollo, it having been chosen even in those days for its remarkable

height. At Delos, also, there is a palm[2752] to be seen which dates

from the birth of that divinity, and at Olympia there is a wild olive,

from which Hercules received his first wreath: at the present day it

is preserved with the most scrupulous veneration. At Athens, too, the

olive produced by Minerva, is said still to exist.

CHAP. 90.—TREES WHICH ARE THE MOST SHORT-LIVED.

On the other hand, the pomegranate,[2753] the fig, and the apple are

remarkably short-lived; the precocious trees being still more so than

the later ripeners, and those with sweet fruit than those with sour:

among the pomegranates, too, that variety which bears the sweetest

fruit lives the shortest time. The same is the case, too, with the

vine,[2754] and more particularly the more fruitful varieties. Græcinus

informs us that vines have lasted so long as sixty years. It appears,

also, that the aquatic trees die the soonest. The laurel,[2755] the

apple, and the pomegranate age rapidly, it is true, but then they throw

out fresh shoots at the root. The olive must be looked upon, then, as

being one of the most long-lived, for it is generally agreed among

authors that it will last two hundred years.

CHAP. 91.—TREES THAT HAVE BEEN RENDERED FAMOUS BY REMARKABLE EVENTS.

In the territory about the suburbs of Tusculum, upon a hill known by

the name of Corne, there is a grove which has been consecrated to Diana

by the people of Latium from time immemorial; it is formed of beeches,

the foliage of which has all the appearance of being trimmed by art.

Passienus Crispus, the orator, who in our time was twice consul, and

afterwards became still more famous as having Nero for his step-son, on

marrying his mother Agrippina, was passionately attached to a fine tree

that grew in this grove, and would often kiss and embrace it: not only

would he lie down, too, beneath it, but he would also moisten its roots

with wine.[2756] In the vicinity of this grove there is a holm-oak,

likewise of very considerable celebrity, the trunk of which is no

less[2757] than thirty-four feet in circumference; giving birth to ten

other trees of remarkable size, it forms of itself a whole forest.

CHAP. 92.—PLANTS THAT HAVE NO PECULIAR SPOT FOR THEIR GROWTH: OTHERS

THAT GROW UPON TREES, AND WILL NOT GROW IN THE GROUND. NINE VARIETIES

OF THEM: CADYTAS, POLYPODION, PHAULIAS, HIPPOPHÆSTON.

It is a well-known fact that trees are killed by ivy.[2758] The

mistletoe also has a similar influence, although it is generally

thought that its injurious effects are not so soon perceptible: and,

indeed, this plant, apart from the fruit that it bears, is looked

upon as by no means the least remarkable. There are certain vegetable

productions which cannot be propagated in the ground, and which grow

nowhere but on trees; having no domicile of their own, they live upon

others; such, for instance, is the case with the mistletoe, and a herb

that grows in Syria, and is known as the “cadytas.”[2759] This last

entwines around not only trees, but brambles even; in the neighbourhood

of Tempe, too, in Thessaly, there is found a plant which is called

“polypodion;”[2760] the dolichos[2761] is found also, and wild

thyme.[2762] After the wild olive has been pruned there springs up a

plant that is known as “phaulias;”[2763] while one that grows upon the

fuller’s thistle is called the “hippophæston;”[2764] it has a thin,

hollow stem, a small leaf, and a white root, the juice of which is

considered extremely beneficial as a purgative in epilepsy.

CHAP. 93.—THREE VARIETIES OF MISTLETOE. THE NATURE OF MISTLETOE AND

SIMILAR PLANTS.

There are three varieties of the mistletoe.[2765] That which grows upon

the fir and the larch has the name of[2766] stelis in Eubœa; and there

is the hyphear[2767] of Arcadia. It grows also upon the quercus,[2768]

the robur, the holm-oak, the wild plum, and the terebinth, but upon no

other tree.[2769] It is most plentiful of all upon the quercus, and is

then known as “adasphear.” In all the trees, with the exception of the

holm-oak and the quercus, there is a considerable difference in its

smell and pungency, and the leaf of one kind has a disagreeable odour;

both varieties, however, are sticky and bitter. The hyphear is the

best for fattening[2770] cattle with; it begins, however, by purging

off all defects, after which it fattens all such animals as have been

able to withstand the purging. It is generally said, however, that

those animals which have any radical malady in the intestines cannot

withstand its drastic effects. This method of treatment is generally

adopted in the summer for a period of forty days.

Besides the above, there is yet another difference[2771] in the

mistletoe; that which grows upon the trees which lose their leaves,

loses its leaves as well; while, on the other hand, that which grows

upon evergreens always retains its leaves. In whatever way the seed

may have been sown, it will never come to anything, unless it has been

first swallowed[2772] and then voided by birds, the wood-pigeon more

particularly, and the thrush: such being the nature of the plant, that

it will not come to anything unless the seed is first ripened in the

crop of the bird. It never exceeds a single cubit in height, and is

always green and branchy. The male[2773] plant is fruitful, the female

barren; sometimes, indeed, the male even bears no berry.

CHAP. 94.—THE METHOD OF MAKING BIRDLIME.

Birdlime is made of the berries of the mistletoe, which are gathered

at harvest, and while in an unripe state; for if the rainy season

comes on, though they increase in size, the viscous juice is apt to

lose its virtues. They are then dried,[2774] and when brought to a

state of perfect aridity, are first pounded, and then put in water,

in which they are left to rot for twelve days; this being, in fact,

the only thing that finds improvement in decay. After this, they are

again beaten in running water with a mallet, and after losing the outer

coat there is only the viscous inner pulp remaining. This substance

is birdlime; and after it has been thinned by the addition of walnut

oil, it is found particularly useful for catching birds, it being quite

sufficient if they only touch it with the wings.

CHAP. 95.—HISTORICAL FACTS CONNECTED WITH THE MISTLETOE.

Upon this occasion we must not omit to mention the admiration that is

lavished upon this plant by the Gauls. The Druids—for that is the name

they give to their magicians[2775]—held nothing more sacred than the

mistletoe and the tree that bears it, supposing always that tree to

be the robur.[2776] Of itself the robur is selected by them to form

whole groves, and they perform none of their religious rites without

employing branches of it; so much so, that it is very probable that

the priests themselves may have received their name from the Greek

name[2777] for that tree. In fact, it is the notion with them that

everything that grows on it has been sent immediately from heaven, and

that the mistletoe upon it is a proof that the tree has been selected

by God himself as an object of his especial favour.

The mistletoe, however, is but rarely found upon the robur; and when

found, is gathered with rites replete with religious awe. This is done

more particularly on the fifth day of the moon, the day which is the

beginning of their months and years, as also of their ages, which, with

them, are but thirty years. This day they select because the moon,

though not yet in the middle of her course, has already considerable

power and influence; and they call her by a name which signifies, in

their language, the all-healing.[2778] Having made all due preparation

for the sacrifice and a banquet beneath the trees, they bring thither

two white bulls, the horns of which are bound then for the first

time. Clad in a white robe the priest ascends the tree, and cuts the

mistletoe with a golden sickle, which is received by others in a white

cloak.[2779] They then immolate the victims, offering up their prayers

that God will render this gift of his propitious to those to whom he

has so granted it. It is the belief with them that the mistletoe, taken

in drink, will impart fecundity to all animals that are barren, and

that it is an antidote for all poisons.[2780] Such are the religious

feelings which we find entertained towards trifling objects among

nearly all nations.

SUMMARY.—Remarkable facts, narratives, and observations, one

thousand one hundred and thirty-five.

ROMAN AUTHORS QUOTED.—M. Varro,[2781] Fetialis,[2782] Nigidius,[2783]

Cornelius Nepos,[2784] Hyginus,[2785] Massurius,[2786] Cato,[2787]

Mucianus,[2788] L. Piso,[2789] Trogus,[2790] Calpurnius Bassus,[2791]

Cremutius,[2792] Sextius Niger,[2793] Cornelius Bocchus,[2794]

Vitruvius,[2795] Græcinus.[2796]

FOREIGN AUTHORS QUOTED.—Alexander Polyhistor,[2797] Hesiod,[2798]

Theophrastus,[2799] Democritus,[2800] Homer, Timæus[2801] the

mathematician.