BOOK XVII. - The Natural History of Pliny, Volume 3 (of 6)

THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE CULTIVATED TREES.

CHAP. 1. (1.)—TREES WHICH HAVE BEEN SOLD AT ENORMOUS PRICES.

We have described the trees which grow spontaneously on land and in

the sea,[2802] and it now remains for us to speak of those which owe

their formation, properly speaking, rather than birth, to art and the

inventive genius of man.[2803] Here, however, I cannot but express my

surprise, that after the state of penury in which man lived, as already

described,[2804] in primitive times, holding the trees of the forest in

common with the wild beasts, and disputing with them the possession of

the fruits that fell, and with the fowls of the air that of the fruits

as they hung on the tree, luxury has now attached to them prices so

enormous.

The most famous instance, in my opinion, of this excess, was that

displayed by L. Crassus and Cneius Domitius Ahenobarbus. Crassus

was one of the most celebrated of the Roman orators; his house was

remarkable for its magnificence, though in some measure surpassed even

by that of Q. Catulus,[2805] also upon the Palatine Hill; the same

Catulus, who, in conjunction with C. Marius, defeated the Cimbri.

But by far the finest house of all that period, it was universally

acknowledged, was that of C. Aquilius, a Roman of Equestrian rank,

situate upon the Viminal Hill; a house, indeed, that conferred a

greater degree of celebrity upon him than even his acquaintance

with the civil law. This, however, did not prevent Crassus being

reproached with the magnificence of his. Crassus and Domitius, members,

both of them, of the most illustrious families, after holding the

consulship,[2806] were appointed jointly to the censorship, in the year

from the building of the City 662, a period of office that was fruitful

in strife, the natural result of their dissimilarity of character. On

one occasion, Cneius Domitius, naturally a man of hasty temper, and

inflamed besides by a hatred that rivalry only tends to stimulate,

gravely rebuked Crassus for living, and he a Censor too, in a style of

such magnificence, and in a house for which, as he said, he himself

would be ready to pay down ten millions of sesterces. Crassus, a man

who united to singular presence of mind great readiness of wit, made

answer that, deducting six trees only, he would accept the offer; upon

which Domitius replied, that upon those terms he would not give so much

as a single denarius for the purchase. “Well then, Domitius,” was the

rejoinder of Crassus, “which of the two is it that sets a bad example,

and deserves the reproof of the censorship; I, who live like a plain

man in a house that has come to me by inheritance, or you, who estimate

six trees at a value of ten millions of sesterces?”[2807] These trees

were of the lotus[2808] kind, and by the exuberance of their branches

afforded a most delightful shade. Cæcina Largus, one of the grandees

of Rome, and the owner of the house, used often to point them out to

me in my younger days; and, as I have already made mention[2809] of

the remarkable longevity of trees, I would here add, that they were

in existence down to the period when the Emperor Nero set fire to the

City, one hundred and eighty years after the time of Crassus; being

still green and with all the freshness of youth upon them, had not that

prince thought fit to hasten the death of the very trees even.

Let no one, however, imagine that the house of Crassus was of no value

in other respects, or that, from the rebuke of Domitius, there was

nothing about it worthy of remark with the exception of these trees.

There were to be seen erected in the atrium four columns of marble

from Mount Hymettus,[2809] which in his ædileship he had ordered to be

brought over for the decoration of the stage;[2810] and this at a time,

too, when no public buildings even as yet possessed any pillars made

of that material. Of such recent date is the luxury and opulence which

we now enjoy, and so much greater was the value which in those days

trees were supposed to confer upon a property! A pretty good proof of

which, was the fact that Domitius even, with all his enmity, would not

keep to the offer he had made, if the trees were not to be included in

the bargain.

The trees have furnished surnames also to the ancients,[2811] such,

for instance, as that of Fronditius to the warrior who swam across

the Volturnus with a wreath of leaves on his head, and distinguished

himself by his famous exploits in the war against Hannibal; and that

of Stolo[2812] to the Licinian family, such being the name given by

us to the useless suckers that shoot from trees; the best method of

clearing away these shoots was discovered by the first Stolo, and hence

his name. The ancient laws also took the trees under their protection;

and by the Twelve Tables it was enacted, that he who should wrongfully

cut down trees belonging to another person, should pay twenty-five

asses for each. Is it possible then to imagine that they, who estimated

the fruit-trees at so low a rate as this, could ever have supposed

that so exorbitant a value would be put upon the lotus as that which

I have just mentioned? And no less marvellous, too, are the changes

that have taken place in the value of fruit; for at the present day

we find the fruit alone of many of the trees in the suburbs valued at

no less a sum than two thousand sesterces; the profits derived from

a single tree thus being more than those of a whole estate in former

times. It was from motives of gain that the grafting of trees and the

propagation thereby of a spurious offspring was first devised, so that

the growth of the fruits even might be a thing interdicted to the poor.

We shall, therefore, now proceed to state in what way it is that such

vast revenues are derived from these trees, and with that object shall

set forth the true and most approved methods of cultivation; not taking

any notice of the more common methods, or those which we find generally

adopted, but considering only those points of doubt and uncertainty,

in relation to which practical men are most apt to find themselves at

a loss: while, at the same time, to affect any scrupulous exactness

in cases where there is no necessity for it, will be no part of our

purpose. In the first place, however, we will consider in a general

point of view, those influences of soil as well as weather which are

exercised upon all the trees in common.

CHAP. 2. (2.)—THE INFLUENCE OF WEATHER UPON THE TREES: WHAT IS THE

PROPER SITUATION FOR THE VINE.

Trees are fond of a site more particularly that faces the

north-east;[2813] the breezes rendering their foliage more thick and

exuberant, and imparting additional solidity to the wood. This is a

point, however, upon which most people are very greatly deceived; thus

in vineyards, for instance, the props ought not to be placed in such

a position as to shelter the stems from the wind in that quarter, it

being only against the northern blasts that this precaution should

be taken. Nay, even more than this—if the cold weather only comes on

in due season, it contributes very materially to the strengthening

of the trees, and promotes the process of germination; while, on the

other hand, if at that period the southern[2814] breezes should caress

them, they will grow weak and languid, and more particularly so, if

the blossom is just coming on. If rainy weather, too, should happen to

follow close upon blossoming, the total destruction of the fruit is

the necessary result: indeed, if the weather should be only cloudy, or

south winds happen to prevail, it is quite sufficient to ensure the

loss of the fruit in the almond and the pear.[2815] Rains, if prevalent

about the rising of the Vergiliæ,[2816] are most injurious to the vine

and the olive,[2817] as it is at that season that germination[2818]

is commencing with them; indeed, this is a most critical four days

for the olive, being the period at which the south wind, as we have

already[2819] stated, brings on its dark and lowering clouds. The

cereals, too, ripen more unfavourably when south winds prevail, though

at the same time it proceeds with greater rapidity. All cold, too, is

injurious to vegetation, which comes with the northern winds, or out of

the proper season. It is most advantageous to all plants for north-east

winds[2820] to prevail throughout the winter.

In this season, too, showers are very necessary, and the reason is

self-evident—the trees, being exhausted by the fruit they have borne,

and weakened by the loss of their leaves, are, of course, famished and

hungry; and it is the showers that constitute their aliment. Experience

has led us to believe that there is nothing more detrimental than a

warm winter; for it allows the trees, the moment they have parted with

their fruits, to conceive again, or, in other words, to germinate, and

then exhaust themselves by blossoming afresh. And what is even worse

than this, should there be several years of such weather in succession,

even the trees themselves will die; for there can be little doubt

that the effort must of necessity be injurious, when they put forth

their strength, and are at the same time deprived of their natural

sustenance. The poet[2821] then, who has said that serene winters are

to be desired, certainly did not express those wishes in favour of the

trees. And no more does rain, if prevalent at the summer-solstice,

conduce to the benefit[2822] of the vine: while, at the same time, to

say that a dusty winter produces a luxuriant harvest, is certainly

the mistake of a too fertile imagination. It is a thing greatly to

be wished, too, both in behalf of the trees as well as the cereals,

that the snows should lie for a considerable time upon the ground; the

reason being that they check the escape of the spirit of the earth by

evaporation, and tend to throw it back again upon the roots of the

plants, adding greatly to their strength thereby; and not only this,

but they afford a gradual supply of moisture as well, that is both pure

and of remarkable lightness, from the fact that snow is only the foam

of the waters of heaven. Hence it is that the moisture of snow does

not drench and engulph everything all at once, but gradually trickles

downwards, in proportion to the thirst of the plant, nurturing it as

though from the breast, instead of producing an inundation. The earth,

too, ferments under this influence, and becomes filled with her own

emanations: not exhausted by the seeds in her bosom, swollen as they

are with milk,[2823] she smiles in the warm and balmy hours, when the

time comes for opening it. It is in this way, more particularly, that

corn fattens apace, except, indeed, in those climates in which the

atmosphere is always warm, Egypt for example; for there the continuance

of the same temperature and the force of habit are productive of the

same effects as the modifications of temperature in other countries.

At the same time it is equally necessary in every climate that there

should be no noxious influence in existence. Thus, for instance, in the

greater part of the world, that precocious germination which has been

encouraged by the indulgent temperature of the weather, is sure to be

nipped by the intense colds that ensue. Hence it is that late winters

are so injurious, and such they prove to the trees of the forest even;

indeed, these last are more particularly exposed to the ill effects of

a late winter, oppressed as they are by the density of their foliage,

and human agency being unable to succour them; for it would be quite

impossible to cover[2824] the more tender forest trees with wisps of

straw. Rains, then, are favourable to vegetation—first of all, during

the winter season, and next, just previously to germination; the third

period for them being that of the formation of the fruit, though not

immediately, and only, in fact, when the produce of the tree shows

itself strong and healthy.

Those trees which are the slowest in bringing their fruits to

maturity, and require a more prolonged supply of nutriment, receive

benefit also from late rains, such as the vine, the olive, and the

pomegranate, for instance. These rains, however, are required at

different seasons by the different trees, some of them coming to

maturity at one period and some at another; hence it is that we see

the very same rain productive of injury to some trees and beneficial

to others, even when they are of the very same species, as in the

pear for instance: for the winter pear stands in need of rain at one

period, and the early pear at another, though at the same time they,

all of them, require it in an equal degree. Winter precedes the period

of germination, and it is this fact that makes the north-east wind

more beneficial than the south, and renders the parts that lie in the

interior preferable to those near the coast,—the former being generally

the coldest,—mountainous districts better than level ones, and rain

at night better than showers in the day. Vegetation, too, receives

a greater degree of benefit from the water when the sun does not

immediately soak it up.

Connected, too, with this subject is the question of the best

situation for planting vines, and the trees which support them.

Virgil[2825] condemns a western aspect, while there are some persons,

again, who prefer it to an easterly one: I find, however, that most

authors approve of the south, though I do not think that any abstract

precepts[2826] can be given in relation to the point. The most careful

attention on the part of the cultivator ought to be paid to the

nature of the soil, the character of the locality, and the respective

influences of climate. The method of giving to the vine a southern

aspect, as practised in Africa and * * * * is injurious to the tree, as

well as unhealthy for the cultivator, from the very circumstance that

the country itself lies under a southern meridian: hence it is, that

he who selects for his plants there a western or a northerly aspect,

will combine on the most advantageous terms the benefits of soil with

those of climate. When Virgil condemns a western aspect, there can be

no doubt that he includes in his censure a northern aspect as well: and

yet, in Cisalpine Italy, where most of the vineyards have an aspect to

the north, it has been found by experience that there are none that are

more prolific.

The winds are also a very important consideration. In the provinces

of Gallia Narbonensis, and in Liguria and part of Etruria, it is

considered a proof of great want of skill to plant the vine on a site

that lies in the teeth of the wind Circius,[2827] while, on the other

hand, it is a mark of prudence to catch its breezes in an oblique

direction; it is this wind, in fact, that modifies the heat in those

countries, though at the same time it is usually so violent, as to

sweep away the roofs of the houses.

(3.) There are some persons who employ a method of making the question

of weather dependent upon the nature of the soil; thus in the case of

a vineyard, for instance, in a dry locality, they give it an eastern

or a northern aspect; but where it is planted on a humid site, it is

made to face the south. From the varieties of the vine also, they

borrow various modifications in reference to site; taking care to plant

the early vine in a cold locality, in order that the fruit may ripen

before the frosts come on; while such fruit trees and vines as have

an antipathy to dews are exposed to the east, that the sun may carry

off their humidity at the earliest moment. On the other hand, such

as manifest a partiality to dews are planted with a western or even

a northern aspect, to give them an opportunity of enjoying them all

the longer. Others, again, borrowing their notions pretty nearly from

Nature, have recommended that vines and trees should be planted facing

the north-east; indeed Democritus is of opinion, that by so doing the

fruit will be all the more odoriferous.

(4.) We have already spoken, in the Second Book,[2828] of the points

of the north-east and other winds, and shall have occasion in the

succeeding one to make mention of several more of the heavenly

phænomena. In the mean time, however, we may observe that it would

appear to be a manifest proof of the salubrity of a north-east site,

that the leaves are always the first to fall in the trees that have

an aspect towards the south.[2829] A similar reason exists, too, in

the maritime districts; in certain localities the sea breezes are

detrimental, though in most they are nutritious. For some plants,

again, it is pleasant to behold the sea at a distance, while at the

same time they will gain nothing by approaching closer to its saline

exhalations. The same, too, is the influence exercised by rivers and

lakes; they will either scorch the vegetation by the fogs they emit,

or else modify by their coolness the excess of heat. We have already

mentioned[2830] the plants that thrive in the shade, and in the cold

even; but in all these matters experience will be found the best of

guides.

CHAP. 3.—WHAT SOILS ARE TO BE CONSIDERED THE BEST.

Next after the influences of the heavens, we have to treat of those of

the earth, a task that is in no way more easy than the previous one.

It is but rarely that the same soil is found suited to trees as well

as corn: indeed, the black[2831] earth which prevails in Campania is

not everywhere found suited to the vine, nor yet that which emits light

exhalations, or the red[2832] soil that has been so highly praised

by many. The cretaceous earth that is found in the territory of Alba

Pompeia, and an argillaceous soil, are preferred to all others for

the vine, although, too, they are remarkably rich, a quality that is

generally looked upon as not suited to that plant. On the other hand,

again, the white sand of the district of Ticinum, the black sand of

many other places, and the red sand as well, even though mixed with a

rich earth, will prove unproductive.

The very signs, also, from which we form our judgment are often very

deceptive; a soil that is adorned with tall and graceful trees is not

always a favourable one, except, of course, for those trees. What tree,

in fact, is there that is taller than the fir? and yet what other plant

could possibly exist in the same spot? Nor ought we always to look upon

verdant pastures as so many proofs of richness of soil; for what is

there that enjoys a greater renown than the pastures of Germany? and

yet they consist of nothing but a very thin layer of turf, with sand

immediately beneath. Nor yet is the soil which produces herbage[2833]

of large growth always to be looked upon as humid; no, by Hercules!

no more than a soil is to be looked upon as unctuous and rich, which

adheres to the fingers—a thing that is proved in the case of the

argillaceous earths.[2834] The earth when thrown back into the hole

from which it has just been dug will never[2835] fill it, so that it is

quite impossible by that method to form any opinion as to its density

or thinness. It is the fact, too, that every[2836] soil, without

exception, will cover iron with rust. Nor yet can we determine[2837]

the heaviness or lightness of soils in relation to any fixed and

ascertained weight: for what are we to understand as the standard

weight of earth? A soil, too, that is formed from the alluvion[2838] of

rivers is not always to be recommended, for there are some crops that

decay all the sooner in a watery soil; indeed, those soils even of this

description which are highly esteemed, are never found to be long good

for any kind of vegetation but the willow.

Among other proofs of the goodness of soil, is the comparative

thickness of the stem in corn. In Laborium, a famous champaign country

of Campania, the stalk is of such remarkable thickness, that it may be

used even to supply the place of wood:[2839] and yet this very soil,

from the difficulty that is everywhere experienced in cultivating it,

and the labour required in working it, may be almost said to give the

husbandman more trouble by its good qualities than it could possibly

have done by reason of any defects. The soil, too, that is generally

known as charcoal earth, appears susceptible of being improved by being

planted with a poor meagre vine: and tufa,[2840] which is naturally

rough and friable, we find recommended by some authors. Virgil,[2841]

too, does not condemn for the vine a soil which produces fern:[2842]

while a salted earth[2843] is thought to be much better entrusted with

the growth of vegetation than any other, from the fact of its being

comparatively safe from noxious insects breeding there. Declivities,

too, are far from unproductive, if a person only knows how to dig

them properly; and it is not all[2844] champaign spots that are less

accessible to the sun and wind than is necessary for their benefit. We

have already[2845] alluded to the fact, that there are certain vines

which find nutriment in hoar frosts and fogs.

In every subject there are certain deep and recondite secrets, which

it is left to the intelligence of each to penetrate. Do we not,

for instance, find it the fact, that soils which have long offered

opportunities for a sound judgment being formed on their qualities

have become totally altered? In the vicinity of Larissa, in Thessaly,

a lake was drained;[2846] and the consequence was, that the district

became much colder, and the olive-trees which had formerly borne

fruit now ceased to bear. When a channel was cut for the Hebrus, near

the town of Ænos, the place was sensible of its nearer approach, in

finding its vines frost-bitten, a thing that had never happened before;

in the vicinity, too, of Philippi, the country having been drained

for cultivation, the nature of the climate became entirely altered.

In the territory of Syracuse, a husbandman, who was a stranger to

the place, cleared the soil of all the stones, and the consequence

was, that he lost his crops from the accumulation of mud; so that at

last he was obliged to carry the stones back again. In Syria again,

the plough-share which they use is narrow, and the furrows are but

very superficial, there being a rock beneath the soil that in summer

scorches up the seeds.

Then, too, the effects of excessive cold and heat in various places

are similar; thus, for instance, Thrace is fruitful in corn, by reason

of the cold, while Africa and Egypt are so in consequence of the heat

that prevails there. At Chalcia,[2847] an island belonging to the

Rhodians, there is a certain place which is so remarkably fertile,

that after reaping the barley that has been sown at the ordinary time,

and gathering it in, they immediately sow a fresh crop, and reap it at

the same time as the other corn. A gravelly soil is found best suited

for the olive in the district of Venafrum,[2848] while one of extreme

richness is required for it in Bætica. The wines of Pucinum[2849] are

ripened upon a rock, and the vines of Cæcubum[2850] are moistened by

the waters of the Pomptine[2851] marshes; so great are the differences

that have been detected by human experience in the various soils. Cæsar

Vopiscus, when pleading a cause before the Censors, said that the

fields of Rosia[2852] are the very marrow[2853] of Italy, and that a

stake, left in the ground there one day, would be found covered by the

grass the next:[2854] the soil, however, is only esteemed there for the

purposes of pasturage. Still, however, Nature has willed that we should

not remain uninstructed, and has made full admission as to existing

defects in soil, even in cases where she has failed to give us equal

information as to its good qualities: we shall begin, therefore, by

speaking of the defects that are found in various soils.

(5.) If it is the wish of a person to test whether a soil is bitter,

or whether it is thin and meagre, the fact may be easily ascertained

from the presence of black and undergrown herbs. If, again, the herbage

shoots up dry and stunted, it shows that the soil is cold, and if sad

and languid, that it is moist and slimy. The eye, too, is able to judge

whether it is a red earth or whether it is argillaceous, both of them

extremely difficult to work, and apt to load the harrow or ploughshare

with enormous clods; though at the same time it should be borne in

mind that the soil which entails the greatest amount of labour is not

always productive of the smallest amount of profit. So, too, on the

other hand, the eye can distinguish a soil that is mixed with ashes or

with white sand, while earth that is sterile and dense may be easily

detected by its peculiar hardness, at even a single stroke of the

mattock.

Cato,[2855] briefly and in his peculiar manner, characterizes the

defects that exist in the various soils. “Take care,” he says, “where

the earth is rotten not to shake it either with carts or by driving

cattle over it.” Now what are we to suppose that this term “rotten”

means, as applied to a soil, about which he is so vastly apprehensive

as to almost forbid our setting foot upon it? Let us only form a

comparison by thinking what it is that constitutes rottenness in

wood, and we shall find that the faults which are held by him in such

aversion are the being arid, full of holes, rough, white, mouldy,

worm-eaten, in fact, just like pumice-stone; and thus has Cato said

more in a single word than we could have possibly found means to

express in a description, however long. Indeed, if we could find means

of expressing the various defects that exist in soils, we should

find that there are some of them that are old, not with age (for age

cannot[2856] be concerned in relation to the earth), but of their own

nature, and are hence unfruitful and powerless for every purpose from

the first. The same writer,[2857] too, considers that as the very best

of soils, which, situate at the foot of a declivity, runs out into a

champaign country, taking a southward direction; such, in fact, being

the aspect of the whole of Italy:[2858] he says[2859] also, that the

earth generally known as black[2860] earth is of a tender nature,

and is consequently the most easily worked and the best for cereals.

If we only appreciate with due care the signification of this word

“tender,”[2861] we shall find that it expresses its intended meaning

remarkably well, and that in this word is comprised every quality that

is desirable for the purposes of cultivation. In a tender soil we

shall find fertility combined with moderation, a softness and a pliancy

easily adapted to cultivation, and an equal absence of humidity and of

dryness. Earth of this nature will shine again after the plough-share

has passed through it, just as Homer,[2862] that great fountain-head of

all genius, has described it sculptured by the Divinity[2863] upon the

arms [of Achilles], adding, too, a thing that is truly marvellous, that

it was of a blackish hue, though gold was the material in which it was

wrought. This, too, is that kind of earth, which, when newly turned up,

attracts the ravenous birds that follow the plough-share, the ravens

even going so far as to peck at the heels of the ploughman.

We may in this place appropriately make mention of an opinion that has

been pronounced by an Italian writer also with reference to a matter of

luxury. Cicero,[2864] that other luminary of literature, has made the

following remark: “Those unguents which have a taste of earth[2865] are

better,” says he, “than those which smack of saffron;” it seeming to

him more to the purpose to express himself by the word “taste”[2866]

than “smell.” And such is the fact, no doubt; that soil is the best

which has the flavour of a perfume.[2867] If the question should be put

to us, what is this odour of the earth that is held in such estimation,

our answer is, that it is the same that is often to be recognized at

the moment of sunset, without the necessity even of turning up the

ground, at the spots where the extremities of the rainbow[2868] have

been observed to meet the earth; as also when, after long-continued

drought, the rain has soaked the ground. Then it is that the earth

exhales this divine odour, that is so peculiarly its own, and to which,

imparted to it by the sun, there is no perfume, however sweet, that can

possibly be compared. It is this odour that the earth, when turned up,

ought to emit, and which, when once found, can never deceive a person;

and this will be found the best criterion for judging of the quality of

the soil. Such, too, is the odour that is usually perceived on land

newly cleared,[2869] when an ancient forest has been just cut down; its

excellence is a thing that is universally admitted.

For the culture of the cereals, too, the same land is generally looked

upon as the more improved the oftener it has been allowed to rest[2870]

from cultivation, a thing that is not the case with vineyards; for

which reason all the greater care is required in the selection of

their site, if we would not have the opinions of those to appear well

founded who entertain the notion that the soil of Italy is already

worn out.[2871] In other kinds of soil the work of cultivation depends

entirely upon the weather; as, for instance, in those which cannot

be ploughed just after rain, because the natural exuberance of the

earth renders it viscous and cloggy. On the other hand, in Byzacium, a

district of Africa, and a champaign country of such singular fertility

as to render grain one hundred and fifty fold,[2872] the soil is such,

that in time of drought, not even bulls are able to plough it; while,

on another occasion, just after a shower of rain, one poor ass, with

an old woman to guide it, is quite sufficient,[2873] as ourselves we

have witnessed, to do the ploughing. But as to amending one soil by

the agency of another, as some persons recommend, by throwing rich

earth over one that is poor and thin, or by laying a soaking light

soil over one that is humid and unctuous, it is a labour of perfect

madness.[2874] What can a man possibly hope for who cultivates such a

soil as this?

CHAP. 4. (6.)—THE EIGHT KINDS OF EARTH BOASTED OF BY THE GAULS AND

GREEKS.

There is another method, which has been invented both in Gaul and

Britain, of enriching earth by the agency of itself, being * * * * and

that kind known as marl.[2875] This soil is looked upon as containing a

greater amount of fecundating principles, and acts as a fat in relation

to the earth, just as we find glands existing in the body, which are

formed by a condensation of the fatty particles into so many kernels.

(7.) This mode of proceeding, too, has not been overlooked by the

Greeks; indeed, what subject is there that they have not touched upon?

They call by the name of leucargillon[2876] a white argillaceous earth

which is used in the territory of Megara, but only where the soil is of

a moist, cold nature.

It is only right that I should employ some degree of care and

exactness in treating of this marl, which tends so greatly to enrich

the soil of the Gallic provinces and the British islands. There were

formerly but two varieties known, but more recently, with the progress

of agricultural knowledge, several[2877] others have begun to be

employed; there being, in fact, the white, the red, the columbine, the

argillaceous, the tufaceous, and the sandy marls. It has also one of

these two peculiarities, it is either rough or greasy to the touch; the

proper mode of testing it being by the hand. Its uses, too, are of a

twofold nature—it is employed for the production of the cereals only,

or else for the enrichment of pasture land as well. The tufaceous[2878]

kind is nutrimental to grain, and so is the white; if found in the

vicinity of springs, it is fertile to an immeasurable extent; but if it

is rough to the touch, when laid upon the land in too large a quantity,

it is apt to burn up the soil. The next kind is the red marl, known

as acaunumarga,[2879] consisting of stones mingled with a thin sandy

earth. These stones are broken upon the land itself, and it is with

considerable difficulty during the earlier years that the stalk of the

corn is cut, in consequence of the presence of these stones; however,

as it is remarkably light, it only costs for carriage one-half of the

outlay required in using the other varieties. It is laid but very

thinly on the surface, and it is generally thought that it is mixed

with salt. Both of these varieties, when once laid on the land, will

fertilize it for fifty[2880] years, whether for grain or for hay.

(8.) Of the marls that are found to be of an unctuous nature, the best

is the white. There are several varieties of it: the most pungent

and biting being the one already mentioned. Another kind, is the

white chalk that is used for cleaning[2881] silver; it is taken from

a considerable depth in the ground, the pits being sunk, in most

instances, as much as one hundred feet. These pits are narrow at the

mouth, but the shafts enlarge very considerably in the interior, as is

the case in mines; it is in Britain more particularly that this chalk

is employed. The good effects of it are found to last full eighty

years; and there is no instance known of an agriculturist laying it

twice on the same land during his life.[2882] A third variety of white

marl is known as glisomarga;[2883] it consists of fullers’ chalk[2884]

mixed with an unctuous earth, and is better for promoting the growth

of hay than grain; so much so, in fact, that between harvest and the

ensuing seed-time there is cut a most abundant crop of grass. While the

corn is growing, however, it will allow no other plant to grow there.

Its effects will last so long as thirty years; but if laid too thickly

on the ground, it is apt to choke up the soil, just as if it had been

covered with Signine[2885] cement. The Gauls give to the columbine marl

in their language the name of eglecopala;[2886] it is taken up in

solid blocks like stone, after which it is so loosened by the action of

the sun and frost, as to split into laminæ of extreme thinness; this

kind is equally beneficial for grass and grain. The sandy[2887] marl is

employed if there is no other at hand, and on moist slimy soils, even

when other kinds can be procured.

The Ubii are the only people that we know of, who, having an extremely

fertile soil to cultivate, employ methods of enriching it; wherever

the land may happen to be, they dig to a depth of three feet, and,

taking up the earth, cover the soil with it in other places a foot

in thickness; this method, however, to be beneficial, requires to

be renewed at the end of every ten years. The Ædui and the Pictones

have rendered their lands remarkably fertile by the aid of limestone,

which is also found to be particularly beneficial to the olive and

the vine.[2888] Every marl, however, requires to be laid on the land

immediately after ploughing, in order that the soil may at once imbibe

its properties; while at the same time, it requires a little manure as

well, as it is apt, at first, to be of too acrid a nature, at least

where it is not pasture land that it is laid upon; in addition to

which, by its very freshness it may possibly injure the soil, whatever

the nature of it may be; so much so, indeed, that the land is never

fertile the first year after it has been employed. It is a matter of

consideration also for what kind of soil the marl is required; if the

soil is moist, a dry marl is best suited for it; and if dry, a rich

unctuous marl. If, on the other hand, the land is of a medium quality,

chalk or columbine[2889] marl is the best suited for it.

CHAP. 5. (9.)—THE EMPLOYMENT OF ASHES.

The agriculturists of the parts of Italy beyond the river Padus, are

such admirers of ashes[2890] for this purpose, that they even prefer

it as a manure to the dung of beasts of burden; indeed, they are in

the habit of burning dung for this purpose, on account of its superior

lightness. They do not, however, use them indiscriminately upon the

same soil, nor do they employ ashes for promoting the growth of shrubs,

nor, in fact, of some of the cereals, as we shall have occasion[2891]

to mention hereafter. There are some persons who are of opinion also

that dust[2892] imparts nutriment to grapes, and cover them with it

while they are growing, taking care to throw it also upon the roots

of the vines and other trees. It is well known that this is done in

the province of Gallia Narbonensis, and it is a fact even better

ascertained that the grape ripens all the sooner for it; indeed, the

dust there contributes more to its ripeness than the heat of the sun.

CHAP. 6.—MANURE.

There are various kinds of manure, the use of which is of very ancient

date. In the times of Homer[2893] even, the aged king is represented

as thus enriching the land by the labour of his own hands. Tradition

reports that King Augeas was the first in Greece to make use of it, and

that Hercules introduced the practice into Italy; which country has,

however, immortalized the name of its king, Stercutus,[2894] the son

of Faunus, as claiming the honour of this invention. M. Varro[2895]

assigns the first rank for excellence to the dung of thrushes kept in

aviaries, and lauds it as being not only good for land, but excellent

food for oxen and swine as well; indeed, he goes so far as to assert

that there is no food that they will grow fat upon more speedily. We

really have some reason to augur well of the manners of the present

day, if it is true that in the days of our ancestors there were

aviaries of such vast extent as to be able to furnish manure for the

fields.

Columella[2896] gives the second rank to pigeon manure,[2897] and the

next to that of the poultry-yard; but he condemns that of the aquatic

birds. Some authors, again, are agreed in regarding the residue of the

human food[2898] as the very best of all manures; while others would

only employ the superfluous portion of our drink,[2899] mixing with it

the hair that is to be found in the curriers’ workshops. Some, however,

are for employing this liquid by itself, though they would mix water

with it once more, and in larger quantities even than when originally

mixed with the wine at our repasts; there being a double share of

noxious qualities to correct, not only those originally belonging to

the wine,[2900] but those imparted to it by the human body as well.

Such are the various methods by which we vie with each other in

imparting nutriment to the earth even.

Next to the manures above mentioned, the dung of swine is highly

esteemed, Columella being the only writer that condemns it. Some,

again, speak highly of the dung of all quadrupeds that have been fed

on cytisus, while there are others who prefer that of pigeons. Next

to these is the dung of goats, and then of sheep; after which comes

that of oxen, and, last of all, of the beasts of burden. Such were

the distinctions that were established between the various manures

among the ancients, such the precepts that they have left us, and

these I have here set forth as being not the mere subtle inventions

of genius, but because their utility has been proved in the course of

a long series of years. In some of the provinces, too, which abound

more particularly in cattle, by reason of their prolific soil, we

have seen the manure passed through a sieve like so much flour, and

perfectly devoid, through lapse of time,[2901] of all bad smell or

repulsive look, being changed in its appearance to something rather

agreeable than otherwise. In more recent times it has been found that

the olive thrives more particularly in soil that has been manured with

the ashes[2902] of the lime-kiln. To the ancient rules Varro[2903] has

added, that corn land should be manured with horse-dung, that being

the lightest manure of all, while meadow land, he says, thrives better

with a manure of a more heavy nature, and supplied by beasts that have

been fed upon barley; this last tending more particularly to the better

growth of grass.[2904] Some persons, indeed, prefer the dung of the

beasts of burden to that of oxen even, the manure of the sheep to that

of the goat, and the manure of the ass to all others, the reason being

that that animal masticates the most slowly of them all. Experience,

however, has pronounced against these dicta of Varro and Columella;

but it is universally agreed by all writers that there is nothing more

beneficial than to turn[2905] up a crop of lupines, before they have

podded, with either the plough or the fork, or else to cut them and

bury them in heaps at the roots of trees and vines. It is thought,

also, that in places where no cattle are kept, it is advantageous to

manure the earth with stubble or even fern. “You can make manure,”

Cato[2906] says, “of litter, or else of lupines, straw, beanstalks, or

the leaves of the holm-oak and quercus. Pull up the wallwort from among

the crops of corn, as also the hemlock that grows there, together with

the thick grass and sedge that you find growing about the willow-plots;

of all this, mixed with rotten leaves,[2907] you may make a litter for

sheep and oxen. If a vine should happen to be but poor and meagre,

prune[2908] the shoots of it, and plough them in round about it.” The

same author says, also,[2909] “When you are going to sow corn in a

field, fold your sheep[2910] there first.”

CHAP. 7.—CROPS WHICH TEND TO IMPROVE THE LAND: CROPS WHICH EXHAUST IT.

Cato[2911] says, also, that there are some crops which tend to nourish

the earth: thus, for instance, corn land is manured by the lupine, the

bean, and the vetch; while, on the other hand, the chick-pea exercises

a contrary influence, both because it is pulled up by the roots and is

of a salt nature; the same is the case, too, with barley, fenugreek,

and fitches, all of which have a tendency to burn up[2912] corn land,

as, in fact, do all those plants which are pulled up by the roots. Take

care, too, not to plant stone-fruits on corn land. Virgil[2913] is of

opinion, also, that corn land is scorched by flax, oats, and poppies.

CHAP. 8.—THE PROPER MODE OF USING MANURE.

It is recommended,[2914] also, that the dung-heap should be kept in the

open air, in a spot deep sunk and well adapted to receive the moisture:

it should be covered, too, with straw, that it may not dry up with

the sun, care being taken to drive a stake of robur into the ground,

to prevent serpents from breeding[2915] there. It is of the greatest

consequence that the manure should be laid upon the land while[2916]

the west winds prevail, and during a dry moon. Most persons, however,

misunderstand this precept, and think this should be done when the west

winds are just beginning to blow, and in the month of February only;

it being really the fact that most crops require manuring in other

months as well. At whatever period, however, it may be thought proper

to manure the land, the greatest care should be taken that the wind is

blowing due west at the time, and that the moon is on the wane, and

quite dry. Such precautions as these will increase in a most surprising

degree the fertilizing effects of manure.

CHAP. 9. (10.)—THE MODES IN WHICH TREES BEAR.

Having now treated at sufficient length of the requisite conditions

of the weather and the soil, we shall proceed to speak of those trees

which are the result of the care and inventive skill of man. Indeed,

the varieties of them are hardly less numerous than of those which are

produced by Nature,[2917] so abundantly have we testified our gratitude

in return for her numerous bounties. For these trees, we find, are

reared either from seed, or else by transplanting, by layers, by slips

torn from the stock, by cuttings, by grafting, or by cutting into the

trunk of the tree. But as to the story that the leaves of the palm

are planted by the Babylonians, and so give birth[2918] to a tree, I

am really surprised that Trogus should have ever believed it. Some of

the trees are reproduced by several of the methods above enumerated,

others, again, by all of them.

CHAP. 10.—PLANTS WHICH ARE PROPAGATED BY SEED.

It is Nature herself that has taught us most of these methods, and more

particularly that of sowing seed, as it was very soon evident how the

seed on falling to the ground revived again in germination. Indeed,

there are some trees that are capable of being propagated in no other

way, the chesnut[2919] and the walnut, for instance; with the sole

exception, of course, of such as are employed for coppice wood. By this

method, too, as well as the others, some trees are propagated, though

from a seed of a different nature, such, for instance, as the vine, the

apple, and the pear;[2920] the seed being in all these cases in the

shape of a pip, and not the fruit itself, as in that of the chesnut

and the walnut. The medlar, too, can also be propagated by the agency

of seed. All trees, however, that are grown by this method are very

slow in coming to maturity,[2921] degenerate[2922] very rapidly, and

must often be renewed by grafting: indeed, the chesnut even sometimes

requires to be grafted.

CHAP. 11.—TREES WHICH NEVER DEGENERATE.

On the other hand, there are some trees which have the property of

never degenerating, in whatever manner they are reproduced, the

cypress, palm, and laurel,[2923] for instance: for we find that the

laurel is capable of being propagated in several ways. We have already

made mention[2924] of the various kinds of laurel; those known as the

Augustan, the baccalis, and the tinus[2925] are all reproduced in a

similar manner. The berries are gathered in the month of January,

after they have been dried by the north-east winds which then prevail;

they are then kept[2926] separate and exposed to the action of the

air, being liable to ferment if left in a heap. After this, they are

first seasoned with smoke, and then steeped in urine, preparatory to

sowing.[2927] Some persons put them in baskets of osier, and tread

them down with the feet in running water, until the outer skin is

removed, as it is found that the moisture[2928] which they contain is

detrimental to them, and prevents them from germinating. A trench is

then dug, about a palm in depth, and somewhere about twenty of the

berries are then put into it, being laid in a heap: this is usually

done in the month of March. These kinds of laurel admit of being

propagated from layers also; but the triumphal[2929] laurel can be

reproduced from cuttings only.

All the varieties of the myrtle[2930] are produced in Campania from the

berry only, but at Rome from layers. Democritus, however, says that the

Tarentine myrtle may be re-produced another way.[2931] They take the

largest berries and pound them lightly so as not to crush the pips:

with the paste that is thus made a rope is covered, and put lengthwise

in the ground; the result of which is that a hedge is formed as thick

as a wall, with plenty of slips for transplanting. In the same way,

too, they plant brambles to make a hedge, by first covering a rope of

rushes with a paste made of bramble-berries. In case of necessity, it

is possible at the end of three years to transplant the suckers of the

laurel and the myrtle that have been thus re-produced.

With reference to the plants that are propagated from seed, Mago treats

at considerable length of the nut-trees—he says that the almond[2932]

should be sown in a soft argillaceous earth, upon a spot that looks

towards the south—that it thrives also in a hard, warm soil, but

that in a soil which is either unctuous or moist, it is sure to die,

or else to bear no fruit. He recommends also for sowing those more

particularly which are of a curved shape like a sickle, and the produce

of a young tree, and he says that they should be steeped for three

days in diluted manure, or else the day before they are sown in honey

and water.[2933] He says, also, that they should be put in the ground

with the point downwards, and the sharp edge towards the north-east;

and that they should be sown in threes and placed triangularly, at the

distance of a palm from each other, care being taken to water them for

ten days, until such time as they have germinated.

Walnuts when sown are placed lengthwise,[2934] lying upon the sides

where the shells are joined; and pine nuts are mostly put, in sevens,

into perforated pots, or else sown in the same way as the berries are

in the laurels which are re-produced by seed. The citron[2935] is

propagated from pips as well as layers, and the sorb from seed, by

sucker, or by slip: the citron, however, requires a warm site, the sorb

a cold and moist one.

CHAP. 12.—PROPAGATION BY SUCKERS.

Nature, too,[2936] has taught us the art of forming nurseries; when

from the roots of many of the trees we see shooting up a dense forest

of suckers, an offspring that is destined to be killed by the mother

that has borne them. For by the shade of the tree these suckers are

indiscriminately stifled, as we often see the case in the laurel, the

pomegranate, the plane, the cherry, and the plum. There are some few

trees, the elm and the palm for instance, in which the branches spare

the suckers; however, they never make their appearance in any of the

trees except those in which the roots, from their fondness for the sun

and rain, keep close, as they range, to the surface of the ground. It

is usual not to place all these suckers at once in the ground upon the

spot which they are finally to occupy, but first to entrust them to

the nursery, and to allow them to grow in seed-plots, after which they

are finally transplanted. This transplanting softens down, in a most

remarkable manner, those trees even which grow wild; whether it is that

trees, like men, are naturally fond of novelty and change of scene, or

that, on leaving the spots of their original growth, or to which they

have been transplanted, they lay aside their bad qualities and become

tame, like the wild animals, the moment they are separated from the

parent stock.

CHAP. 13.—PROPAGATION BY SLIPS AND CUTTINGS.

Nature has also discovered another method, which is very similar to

the last—for slips torn away from the tree will live. In adopting

this plan, care should be taken to pull out the haunch[2937] of the

slip where it adheres to the stock, and so remove with it a portion

of the fibrous body of the parent tree. It is in this way that the

pomegranate, the hazel, the apple, the sorb, the medlar, the ash,

the fig, and more particularly the vine, are propagated. The quince,

however, if planted in this way will degenerate,[2938] and it has

been consequently found a better plan to cut slips and plant them: a

method which was at first adopted for making hedges, with the elder,

the quince, and the bramble, but came afterwards to be applied to

cultivated trees, such as the poplar, the alder, and the willow, which

last will grow if even the slip is planted upside down.[2939] In the

case of cuttings, they are planted at once in the spot which it is

intended they should occupy: but before we pass on to the other methods

of propagation, it seems as well to mention the care that should be

expended upon making seed-plots.[2940]

CHAP. 14.—SEED-PLOTS.

In laying out a seed-plot it is necessary that a soil of the very

highest quality should be selected; for it is very often requisite

that a nurse should be provided for the young plants, who is more

ready to humour them than their parent soil. The ground should

therefore be both dry and nutritious, well turned up with the mattock,

replete with hospitality to the stranger plants, and as nearly as

possible resembling the soil to which it is intended they should be

transplanted. But, a thing that is of primary importance, the stones

must be carefully gathered from off the ground, and it should be

walled in, to ensure its protection from the depredations of poultry;

the soil, too, should have as few chinks and crannies as possible, so

that the sun may not be enabled to penetrate and burn up the roots.

The young trees should be planted at distances[2941] of a foot and

a-half, for if they happen to touch one another, in addition to other

inconveniences, they are apt to breed worms; for which reason it is

that they should be hoed as often as possible, and all weeds pulled up,

the young plants themselves being carefully pruned, and so accustomed

to the knife.

Cato[2942] recommends, too, that hurdles should be set up upon forks,

the height of a man, for the purpose of intercepting the rays of

the sun, and that they should be covered with straw to keep off the

cold.[2943] He says that it is in this way that the seeds of the apple

and the pear are reared, the pine-nut also, and the cypress,[2944]

which is propagated from seed as well. In this last, the seed is

remarkably[2945] small, so much so, in fact, as to be scarcely

perceptible. It is a marvellous fact, and one which ought not to be

overlooked, that a tree should be produced from sources so minute,

while the grains of wheat and of barley are so very much larger, not

to mention the bean. What proportion, too, is there between the apple

and the pear tree, and the seeds from which they take their rise? It

is from such beginnings, too, as these that springs the timber that is

proof against the blows of the hatchet, presses[2946] that weights of

enormous size even are unable to bend, masts that support the sails

of ships, and battering-rams that are able to shake even towers and

walls! Such is the might, such is the power that is displayed by

Nature. But, a marvel that transcends all the rest, is the fact of a

vegetable receiving its birth from a tear-like drop, as we shall have

occasion to mention[2947] in the appropriate place.

To resume, however: the tiny balls which contain the seed are collected

from the female cypress—for the male, as I have already[2948] stated,

is barren. This is done in the months which I have previously[2949]

mentioned, and they are then dried in the sun, upon which they soon

burst, and the seed drops out, a substance of which the ants are

remarkably fond; this fact, too, only serves to enhance the marvel,

when we reflect that an insect so minute is able to destroy the first

germ of a tree of such gigantic dimensions. The seed is sown in the

month of April, the ground being first levelled with rollers, or else

by means of rammers;[2950] after which the seed is thickly sown, and

earth is spread upon it with a sieve, about a thumb deep. If laid

beneath a considerable weight, the seed is unable to spring up, and

is consequently thrown back again into the earth; for which reason

it is often trodden only into the ground. It is then lightly watered

after sunset every three days, that it may gradually imbibe the

moisture until such time as it appears above ground. The young trees

are transplanted at the end of a year, when about three-quarters of

a foot in length, due care being taken to watch for a clear day with

no wind, such being the best suited for the process of transplanting.

It is a singular thing, but still it is a fact, that if, on the day

of transplanting, and only that day, there is the slightest drop of

rain or the least breeze stirring, it is attended with danger[2951]

to the young trees; while for the future they are quite safe from

peril, though at the same time they have a great aversion to all

humidity.[2952] The jujube-tree[2953] is propagated from seed sown in

the month of April. As to the tuber,[2954] it is the best plan to graft

it upon the wild plum, the quince, and the calabrix,[2955] this last

being the name that is given to a wild thorn. Every kind of thorn, too,

will receive grafts remarkably well from the myxa plum,[2956] as well

as from the sorb.

(11.) As to recommending transferring the young plants from the

seed-plot to another spot before finally planting them out, I look

upon it as advice that would only lead to so much unnecessary trouble,

although it is most confidently urged that by this process the leaves

are sure to be considerably larger than they otherwise would.

CHAP. 15.—THE MODE OF PROPAGATING THE ELM.

The elm seed is collected about the calends of March,[2957] before the

tree is covered with leaves, but is just beginning to have a yellow

tint. It is then left to dry two days in the shade, after which it is

thickly sown in a broken soil, earth that has been riddled through

a fine sieve being thrown upon it, to the same thickness as in the

case of the cypress.[2958] If there should happen to be no rain, it

is necessary to water the seed. From the nursery the young plants are

carried at the end of a year to the elm-plots, where they are planted

at intervals of a foot each way. It is better to plant elms in autumn

that are to support the vine, as they are destitute[2959] of seed and

are only propagated from plants. In the vicinity of the City, the

young elms are transplanted into the vineyard at five years old, or,

according to the plan adopted by some, when they are twenty feet in

height. A furrow is first drawn for the purpose, the name given to

which is “novenarius,”[2960] being three feet in depth, and the same

in breadth or even more; into this the young tree is put, and the

earth is moulded up around it to the height of three feet every way.

These mounds are known by the name of “arula”[2961] in Campania. The

intervals are arranged according to the nature of the spot; but where

the country is level, it is requisite that the trees should be planted

wider apart. Poplars and ashes, too, as they germinate with greater

rapidity, ought to be planted out at an earlier period, or, in other

words, immediately after the ides of February.[2962] In arranging trees

and shrubs for the support of the vine, the form of the quincunx[2963]

is the one that is generally adopted, and, indeed, is absolutely

necessary: it not only facilitates the action of the wind, but presents

also a very pleasing appearance, for whichever way you look at the

plantation, the trees will always present themselves in a straight

line. The same method is employed in propagating the poplar from seed

as the elm, and the mode of transplanting it from the seed-plot is the

same as that adopted in transplanting it from the forests.

CHAP. 16.—THE HOLES FOR TRANSPLANTING.

But it is more particularly necessary in transplanting, that the

trees should always be removed to a soil that is similar, or else

superior,[2964] to the one in which they grew before. If taken from

warm or early ripening localities, they ought not to be removed to cold

or backward sites, nor yet, on the other hand, from these last to the

former. If the thing can possibly be done, the holes for transplanting

should be dug sufficiently long before to admit of their being covered

throughout with a thick coat of grass. Mago recommends that they should

be dug a whole year beforehand, in order that they may absorb the heat

of the sun and the moisture of the showers; or, if circumstances do not

admit of this, that fires should be made in the middle of them some two

months before transplanting, that being only done just after rain has

fallen. He says, too, that in an argillaceous[2965] or a hard soil, the

proper measurement is three cubits every way, and on declivitous spots

one palm more, care being taken in every case to make the hole like the

chimney of a furnace, narrower at the orifice than at the bottom. Where

the earth is black, the depth should be two cubits and a palm, and the

hole dug in a quadrangular form.

The Greek writers agree in pointing out much the same proportions, and

are of opinion that the holes ought not to be more than two feet and a

half in depth, or more than two feet wide: at the same time, too, they

should never be less than a foot and a half in depth, even though the

soil should be wet, and the vicinity of water preclude the possibility

of the soil going any deeper. “If the soil is watery,” says Cato,[2966]

“the hole should be three feet in width at the orifice, and one palm

and a foot at the bottom, and the depth four feet. It should be paved,

too, with stones,[2967] or, if they are not at hand, with stakes of

green willow, or, if these cannot be procured, with a layer of twigs;

the depth of the layer so made being a foot and a half.”

It appears to me that I ought here to add, after what has been said

with reference to the nature of trees, that the holes should be sunk

deeper for those which have a tendency to run near the surface of the

earth, such as the ash and the olive, for instance. These trees, in

fact, and others of a similar nature, should be planted at a depth of

four feet, while for the others three feet will be quite sufficient.

“Cut down that stump,” said Papirius Cursor, the general,[2968] when to

the great terror of the prætor of Præneste, he had ordered the lictors

to draw[2969] their axes. And, indeed, there is no harm in cutting away

those portions [of the root] which have become exposed. Some persons

recommend that a bed should be formed at the bottom, of potsherds or

round pebbles,[2970] which both allow the moisture to pass and retain

as much as is wanted; while at the same time they are of opinion that

flat stones are of no use in such a case, and only prevent the root

from penetrating[2971] the earth. To line the bottom with a layer of

gravel would be to follow a middle course between the two opinions.

Some persons recommend that a tree should not be transplanted before

it is two years old, nor yet after three, while others, again, are of

opinion that if it is one year old it is quite sufficient; Cato[2972]

thinks that it ought to be more than five fingers in thickness at the

time. The same author, too, would not have omitted, if it had been of

any importance, to recommend that a mark[2973] should be made on the

bark for the purpose of pointing out the southern aspect of the tree;

so that, when transplanted, it may occupy exactly the same position

that it has previously done; from an apprehension that the north side

of the tree, on finding itself opposite to a southern sun, might split,

and the south side be nipped by the north-eastern blasts. Indeed, there

are some persons who follow a directly opposite practice even in the

vine and the fig,[2974] by placing the north side of the tree, when

transplanted, towards the south, and vice versâ; being of opinion that

by adopting this plan the foliage becomes all the thicker[2975] and

the better able to protect the fruit, which is less liable to fall

off in consequence, and that the tree is rendered all the better for

climbing. Most people, however, take the greatest care to turn to the

south that part of the tree from which the branches have been lopped

at the top, little thinking that they expose it thereby to a chance

of splitting[2976] from the excessive heat. For my own part, I should

prefer that this part of the tree should face that point of the heavens

which is occupied by the sun at the fifth[2977] or even the eighth

hour of the day. People are also equally unaware that they ought not,

through neglect, to let the roots be exposed to the air long enough to

get dry; and that the ground should not be worked about the roots of

trees while the wind is blowing from the north, or, indeed, from any

point of the heavens that lies between north and south-east; or, at

all events, that the roots should not be left to lie exposed to these

winds; the result of such modes of proceeding being, that the trees

die, the grower being all the while in total ignorance of the cause.

Cato[2978] disapproves, too, of all wind and rain whenever the work of

transplanting is going on. When this is the case, it will be beneficial

to let as much adhere to the roots as possible of the earth in which

the tree has grown, and to cover them all round with clods[2979] of

earth: it is for this reason that Cato[2980] recommends that the

young trees should be conveyed in baskets, a very desirable method,

no doubt. The same writer, too, approves of the earth that has been

taken from the surface being laid at the bottom of the hole. Some

persons say,[2981] that if a layer of stones is placed beneath the root

of the pomegranate, the fruit will not split while upon the tree. In

transplanting, it is the best plan to give the roots a bent position,

but it is absolutely necessary that the tree should be placed in such

a manner as to occupy exactly the centre of the hole. The fig-tree, if

the slip when planted is stuck in a squill[2982]—such being the name

of a species of bulb—is said to bear with remarkable rapidity, while

the fruit is exempt from all attacks of the worm: the same precaution,

too, in planting, will preserve the fruit of all other trees in a

similar manner. Who is there, too, that can entertain a doubt that the

very greatest care ought to be taken of the roots of the fig-tree when

transplanted?—indeed, it ought to bear every mark of being taken, and

not torn, from out of the earth. Upon this subject I omit various other

practical precepts, such, for instance, as the necessity of moulding

up the roots with a rammer, a thing that Cato[2983] looks upon as of

primary importance; while, at the same time, he recommends that the

wound made in the stock should be first covered with dung, and then

bound with a layer of leaves.[2984]

CHAP. 17. (12.)—THE INTERVALS TO BE LEFT BETWEEN TREES.

The present seems to me to be the proper occasion for making some

mention of the intervals[2985] that ought to be left between the trees.

Some persons have recommended that pomegranates, myrtles, and laurels

should be planted closer together than the other trees, leaving,

however, a space of nine feet between them. Apple-trees, they say,

should be planted a little wider apart, and pear-trees, almonds, and

figs even still more so. The best rule, however, is to consult the

length of the branches, and the nature of the spot, as well as the

shade that is formed by the tree; for it is of great importance to take

this last into consideration. The shadow thrown by the large trees even

is but of small dimensions, when the branches are disposed around the

body of the tree in a spherical form, as in the apple and the pear, for

instance. In the cherry, on the other hand, and the laurel, the shadow

projected is of enormous extent.

CHAP. 18.—THE NATURE OF THE SHADOW THROWN BY TREES.

The shadows of trees are possessed of certain properties. That of the

walnut is baneful[2986] and injurious to man, in whom it is productive

of head-ache, and it is equally noxious to everything that grows in its

vicinity. The shadow, too, of the pine has the effect of killing[2987]

the grass beneath it; but in both of these trees the foliage presents

an effectual resistance to the winds, while, at the same time, the

vine is destitute of such protection.[2988] The drops of water that

fall from the pine, the quercus, and the holm-oak are extremely heavy,

but from the cypress none fall; the shadow, too, thrown by this last

tree is extremely small, its foliage being densely packed.[2989] The

shadow of the fig, although widely spread, is but light, for which

reason it is allowed to be planted among vines. The shadow of the

elm is refreshing and even nutrimental to whatever it may happen to

cover; though, in the opinion of Atticus, this tree is one of the most

injurious of them all; and, indeed, I have no doubt that such may be

the case when the branches are allowed to become too long; but at the

same time I am of opinion that when they are kept short it can be

productive of no possible harm. The plane also gives a very pleasant

shade,[2990] though somewhat dense: but in this case we must look more

to the luxuriant softness of the grass beneath it than the warmth of

the sun; for there is no tree that forms a more verdant couch on which

to recline.

The poplar[2991] gives no shade whatever, in consequence of the

incessant quivering of its leaves: while that of the alder is very

dense, but remarkably nutritive to plants. The vine affords sufficient

shade for its wants, the leaf being always in motion, and from its

repeated movement tempering the heat of the sun with the shadow that

it affords; at the same time too it serves as an effectual protection

against heavy rains. In nearly all trees the shade is thin, where the

footstalks of the leaves are long.

This branch of knowledge is one by no means to be despised or deserving

to be placed in the lowest rank, for in the case of every variety of

plant the shade is found to act either as a kind nurse or a harsh

step-mother. There is no doubt that the shadow of the walnut, the pine,

the pitch-tree, and the fir is poisonous to everything it may chance to

light upon.

CHAP. 19.—THE DROPPINGS OF WATER FROM THE LEAVES.

A very few words will suffice for the water that drops from the

leaves of trees. In all those which are protected by a foliage so

dense that the rain will not pass through, the drops are of a noxious

nature.[2992] In our enquiries, therefore, into this subject it will be

of the greatest consequence what will be the nature developed by each

tree in the soil in which we are intending to plant it. Declivities,

taken by themselves, require smaller[2993] intervals between the trees,

and in localities that are exposed to the wind it is beneficial to

plant them closer together. However, it is the olive that requires

the largest intervals to be left, and on this point it is the opinion

of Cato,[2994] with reference to Italy, that the very smallest

interval ought to be twenty-five feet, and the largest thirty: this,

however, varies according to the nature of the site. The olive is the

largest[2995] of all the trees in Bætica: and in Africa—if, indeed,

we may believe the authors who say so—there are many olive-trees that

are known by the name of milliariæ,[2996] being so called from the

weight of oil that they produce each year. Hence it is that Mago has

prescribed an interval between these trees of no less than seventy-five

feet every way, or of forty-five at the very lowest, when the soil

happens to be meagre, hard, and exposed to the winds. There is no

doubt, however, that Bætica reaps the most prolific harvests from

between her olives.

It will be generally agreed that it is a most disgraceful piece of

ignorance to lop away the branches more than is absolutely necessary in

trees of vigorous growth, and so precipitate old age; as also, on the

other hand, what is generally tantamount to an avowal of unskilfulness

on the part of those who have planted them, to have to cut them down

altogether. Nothing can reflect greater disgrace upon agriculturists

than to have to undo what they have done, and it is therefore much the

best to commit an error in leaving a superfluity of room.

CHAP. 20. (13.)—TREES WHICH GROW BUT SLOWLY: THOSE WHICH GROW WITH

RAPIDITY.

Some trees are naturally slow in their growth; and those in particular

which grow solely from seed[2997] and are long-lived. On the other

hand, those that are short-lived grow with great rapidity, such as the

fig, pomegranate, plum, apple, pear, myrtle, and willow, for instance;

and yet these are the very first to display their productions, for they

begin to bear at three years old, and make some show of it even before

that period. The pear is the slowest in bearing of all the trees above

enumerated. The cypirus,[2998] however, and the shrub known as the

pseudo-cypirus[2999] are the earliest in coming to maturity, for they

flower almost immediately, and then produce their seed. All trees will

come to maturity more rapidly when the suckers are removed, and the

nutrimental juices are thrown into the stock only.

CHAP. 21.—TREES PROPAGATED FROM LAYERS.

Nature, too, has taught us the art of reproduction from layers. The

bramble, by reason of its thinness and the excessive length to which

it grows, bends downwards, and throws the extremities of its branches

into the earth; these immediately take root again, and would fill

every place far and wide, were it not that the arts of cultivation put

a check to it; so much so, indeed, that it would almost appear that

men are born for nothing else but to take care of the earth. Hence it

is, that a thing that is in itself most noxious and most baneful, has

taught us the art of reproduction by layers and quicksets. The ivy,

too, has a similar property.

Cato[3000] says, that in addition to the vine, the fig, as well as the

olive, the pomegranate, every variety of the apple, the laurel, the

plum, the myrtle, the filbert, the nut of Præneste, and the plane, are

capable of being propagated by layers.

Layers[3001] are of two kinds; in the one, a branch, while still

adhering to the tree, is pressed downwards into a hole that measures

four feet every way: at the end of two years it is cut at the part

where it curves, and is then transplanted at the expiration of three

years more. If it is intended to carry the plant to any distance, it

is the best plan to place the layer, directly it is taken up, either

in an osier basket or any earthen vessel, for its better security

when carried. The other[3002] mode of reproduction by layers is a

more costly one, and is effected by summoning forth a root from the

trunk of the tree even. For this purpose, earthen vessels or baskets

are provided, and are then well packed with earth; through these

the extremities of the branches are passed, and by this mode of

encouragement a root is obtained growing amid the fruit itself, and at

the very summit of the tree; for it is at the summit that this method

is generally adopted. In this way has a bold and daring inventiveness

produced a new tree aloft and far away from the ground. At the end of

two years, in the manner already stated, the layer is cut asunder, and

then planted in the ground, basket and all.

The herb savin[3003] is reproduced by layers, as also by slips; it is

said, too, that lees of wine or pounded wall-bricks make it thrive

wonderfully well. Rosemary[3004] also is reproduced in a similar

manner, as also from cuttings of the branches; neither savin nor

rosemary having any seed. The rhododendrum[3005] is propagated by

layers and from seed.

CHAP. 22. (14.)—GRAFTING: THE FIRST DISCOVERY OF IT.

Nature has also taught us the art of grafting by means of seed. We

see a seed swallowed whole by a famished bird; when softened by the

natural heat of the crop, it is voided, with the fecundating juices of

the dung, upon some soft couch formed by a tree; or else, as is often

the case, is carried by the winds to some cleft in the bark of a tree.

Hence[3006] it is that we see the cherry growing upon the willow,

the plane upon the laurel, the laurel upon the cherry, and fruits of

various tints and hues all springing from the same tree at once. It

is said, too, that the jack-daw, from its concealment of the seeds

of plants in holes which serve as its store-houses, gives rise to a