Chaps. 24-33.

Chap. 24. (22.)—Nine Varieties of the Nut.

The walnut, [The Juglans regia of Linnæus.] which would almost claim precedence of the sorb in size, yields the palm to it in reference to the esteem [Tastes have probably altered since this was written.] in which they are respectively held; and this, although it is so favourite an accompaniment of the Fescennine [These were rude and sometimes obscene songs sung at festivals, and more particularly marriages. While these songs were being sung at the door of the nuptial chamber, it was the custom for the husband to scramble walnuts among the young people assembled there. The walnut is the nut mentioned in Solomon’s Song, vi. 11.] songs at nuptials. This nut, taken as a whole, is very considerably smaller than the pine nut, but the kernel is larger in proportion. Nature, too, has conferred upon it a peculiar honour, in protecting it with a two-fold covering, the first of which forms a hollowed cushion for it to rest upon, and the second is a woody shell. It is for this reason that this fruit has been looked upon as a symbol consecrated to marriage, [Or, more probably, from the union of the two portions of the inner shell.] its offspring being thus protected in such manifold ways: an explanation which bears a much greater air of probability than that which would derive it from the rattling which it makes when it bounds from the floor. [“Tripudium sonivium;” implying that it was considered sacred to marriage, from the use made of it by the friends of the bridegroom when thrown violently against the nuptial chamber, with the view of drowning the cries of the bride. A very absurd notion, to all appearance.] The Greek names that have been given to this fruit fully prove that it, like many others, has been originally introduced from Persis; the best kinds being known in that language by the names of “Persicum,” [The “Persian” nut.] and “basilicon;” [The “king’s” nut. The walnut-tree still abounds in Persia, and is found wild on the slopes of the Himalaya.] these, in fact, being the names by which they were first known to us. It is generally agreed, too, that one peculiar variety has derived its name of “caryon,” [Implying that it comes from the Greek κάρη, “the head.” Some etymologists think that it is from the Celto-Scythian carw, a boat; such being the shape of the two parts of the inner shell.] from the headache which it is apt to produce by the pungency [It is still a common notion, Fée says, that it is highly injurious to sleep beneath a walnut-tree.] of its smell.

The green shell of the walnut is used for dyeing [It is still used for this purpose.] wool, and the nuts, while still small and just developing themselves, are employed for giving a red hue to the hair: [Red hair was admired by the Romans. The Roman females used this juice also for dyeing their hair when grey.] a discovery owing to the stains which they leave upon the hands. When old, the nut becomes more oleaginous. The only difference in the several varieties consists in the relative hardness or brittleness of the shell, it being thin or thick, full of compartments or smooth and uniform. This is the only fruit that Nature has enclosed in a covering formed of pieces soldered together; the shell, in fact, forming a couple of boats, while the kernel is divided into four separate compartments [They are not entirely separate.] by the intervention of a ligneous membrane.

In all the other kinds, the fruit and the shell respectively are of one solid piece, as we find the case with the hazel-nut, [The Corylus avellana maxima of Willdenow.] and another variety of the nut formerly known as “Abellina,” [The filbert, the Corylus tubulosa of Willdenow.] from the name [Abellinum, in Campania. See B. iii. c. 9.] of the district in which it was first produced: it was first introduced into Asia and Greece from Pontus, whence the name that is sometimes given to it—the “Pontic nut.” This nut, too, is protected by a soft beard, [The down on the nut is more apparent when it is young; but it is easily rubbed off. The outer coat is probably meant.] but both the shell and the kernel are round, and formed of a single piece: these nuts are sometimes roasted. [Hazel nuts are sometimes roasted in some parts of Europe, but not with us.] In the middle of the kernel we find a germen or navel.

A third class of nuts is the almond, [The Amygdalus communis of Linnæus.] which has an outer covering, similar to that of the walnut, but thinner, with a second coat in the shape of a shell. The kernel, however, is unlike that of the walnut, in respect of its broad, flat shape, its firmness, and the superior tastiness of its flavour. It is a matter of doubt whether this tree was in existence in Italy in the time of Cato; we find him speaking of Greek nuts, [De Re Rust. c. 8. Some think that this was the bitter almond; and the word “acriore,” used by Pliny, would almost seem to imply that such is the case.] but there are some persons who think that these belong to the walnut class. He makes mention, also, of the hazel-nut, the calva, [Apparently the “smooth” or “bald” nut. May not a variety something like the hickory nut of America be meant?] and the Prænestine [Festus says that a kind of nut was so called, because the Prænestines, when besieged by Hannibal at Casilinum, subsisted upon them. See Livy, B. xxiii. Fée considers it only another name for the common hazel nut.] nut, which last he praises beyond all others, and says [De Re Rust. c. 145.] that, put in pots, they may be kept fresh and green by burying them in the earth.

At the present day, the almonds of Thasos and those of Alba are held in the highest esteem, as also two kinds that are grown at Tarentum, one with a thin, [The soft-shelled almond, or princess almond of the French; the Amygdalus communis fragilis of naturalists.] brittle shell, and the other with a harder [This last variety does not seem to have been identified: the hard-shell almonds do not appear to be larger than the others.] one: these last are remarkably large, and of an oblong shape. There is the almond known as the “mollusca,” [Or “soft” almond, a variety only of the Amygdalus fragilis.] also, which breaks the shell of itself. There are some who would concede a highly honourable interpretation to the name given to the walnut, and say that “juglans” means the “glans,” or “acorn of Jove.” It is only very lately that I heard a man of consular rank declare, that he then had in his possession walnut-trees that bore two [There is little doubt that Fée is right in his assertion, that this great personage imposed on our author; as no trees of this family are known to bear two crops.] crops in the year.

Of the pistachio, which belongs also to the nut class, we have already spoken [B. xiii. c..] in its appropriate place: Vitellius introduced this tree into Italy at the same time as the others that we mentioned; [In c.. of this Book.] and Flaccus Pompeius, a Roman of Equestrian rank, who served with him, introduced it at the same period into Spain.

Chap. 25. (23.)—Eighteen Varieties of the Chesnut.

We give the name of nut, too, to the chesnut, [The tree is the Fagus castanea of Linnæus.] although it would seem more properly to belong to the acorn tribe. The chesnut has its armour of defence in a shell bristling with prickles like the hedge-hog, an envelope which in the acorn is only partially developed. It is really surprising, however, that Nature should have taken such pains thus to conceal an object of so little value. We sometimes find as many as three nuts beneath a single outer shell. The skin [Cortex.] of the nut is limp and flexible: there is a membrane, too, which lies next to the body of the fruit, and which, both in this and in the walnut, spoils the flavour if not taken off. Chesnuts are the most pleasant eating when roasted: [The common mode of eating it at the present day. The Italians also take off the skin and dry the nut; thus keeping it from year to year. When required for eating, it is softened by the steam of boiling water.] they are sometimes ground also, and are eaten by women when fasting for religious scruples, [Not improbably said in allusion to the fasts introduced by the Jews, who had become very numerous in Rome.] as bearing some resemblance to bread. It is from Sardes [It was said to have come from Castana, a city of Pontus, whence its name “Castanea.” It is probably indigenous to Europe.] that the chesnut was first introduced, and hence it is that the Greeks have given it the name of the “Sardian acorn;” for the name “Dios balanon” [The Greek for “Jove’s acorn.”] was given at a later period, after it had been considerably improved by cultivation.

At the present day there are numerous varieties of the chesnut. Those of Tarentum are a light food, and by no means difficult of digestion; they are of a flat shape. There is a rounder variety, known as the “balanitis;” [Or “acorn chesnut.” The same variety, Fée says, that is found in the vicinity of Perigueux, small, nearly round, and without any particular flavour.] it is very easily peeled, and springs clean out of the shell, so to say, of its own accord. The Salarian [The Ganebelone chesnut of Perigueux, Fée says, answers to this description.] chesnut has a smooth outer shell, while that of Tarentum is not so easily handled. [On account of the prickles on the outer shell.] The Corellian is more highly esteemed, as is the Etereian, which is an offshoot from it produced by a method upon which we shall have to enlarge when we come to speak of grafting. [B. xvii. c..] This last has a red skin, [Fée says that the royal white chesnut of the vicinity of Perigueux answers to this.] which causes it to be preferred to the three-cornered chesnut and our black common sorts, which are known as “coctivæ.” [“Boiling” chesnuts.] Tarentum and Neapolis in Campania are the most esteemed localities for the chesnut: other kinds, again, are grown to feed pigs upon, [He alludes to wild or horse chesnuts, probably.] the skin of which is rough and folded inwards, so as to penetrate to the heart of the kernel.

Chap. 26. (24.)—The Carob.

The carob, [See B. xiii. c.] a fruit of remarkable sweetness, does not appear to be so very dissimilar to the chesnut, except that the skin [This skin is not eatable. It is fibrous and astringent.] is eaten as well as the inside. It is just the length of a finger, and about the thickness of the thumb, being sometimes of a curved shape, like a sickle. The acorn cannot be reckoned in the number of the fruits; we shall, therefore, speak of it along with the trees of that class. [In B. xvi. c..]

Chap. 27.—The Fleshy Fruits. The Mulberry.

The other fruits belong to the fleshy kind, and differ both in the shape and the flesh. The flesh of the various berries, [“Acinis.” The grape, ivy-berry, elder-berry, and others.] of the mulberry, and of the arbute, are quite different from one another—and then what a difference, too, between the grape, which is only skin and juice, [“Inter cutem succumque.”] the myxa plum, and the flesh of some berries, [Baccis. Some confusion is created by the non-existence of English words to denote the difference between “acinus” and “bacca.” The latter is properly the “berry;” the grape being the type of the “acinus.”] such as the olive, for instance! In the flesh of the mulberry there is a juice of a vinous flavour, and the fruit assumes three different colours, being at first white, then red, and ripe when black. The mulberry blossoms one of the very last, [See B. xvi. c.. The mulberry is the Morus nigra of modern naturalists. It is generally thought that this was the only variety known to the ancients; but Fée queries, from the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, which represents the mulberry as changing from white to blood colour, that the white mulberry was not unknown to them; but through some cause, now unknown, was gradually lost sight of.] and yet is among the first to ripen: the juice of the fruit, when ripe, will stain the hands, but that of the unripe fruit will remove the marks. It is in this tree that human ingenuity has effected the least improvement [This is still the case with the mulberry.] of all; there are no varieties here, no modifications effected by grafting, nor, in fact, any other improvement except that the size of the fruit, by careful management, has been increased. At Rome, there is a distinction made between the mulberries of Ostia and those of Tusculum. A variety grows also on brambles, but the flesh of the fruit is of a very different nature. [See B. xvi. c., and B. xxiv. c. 73. He alludes to the blackberry.]

Chap. 28.—The Fruit of the Arbutus.

The flesh of the ground-strawberry [The common strawberry, the Fragaria vesca of Linnæus. See B. xxi. c. 50. A native of the Alps and the forests of Gaul, it was unknown to the Greeks.] is very different to that of the arbute-tree, [The Arbutus unedo of Linnæus. It is one of the ericaceous trees, and its fruit bears a considerable resemblance to the strawberry—otherwise there is not the slightest affinity between them. The taste of the arbute is poor indeed, compared to that of the strawberry.] which is of a kindred kind: indeed, this is the only instance in which we find a similar fruit growing upon a tree and on the ground. The tree is tufted and bushy; the fruit takes a year to ripen, the blossoms of the young fruit flowering while that of the preceding year is arriving at maturity. Whether it is the male tree or the female that is unproductive, authors are not generally agreed.

This is a fruit held in no esteem, in proof of which it has gained its name of “unedo,” [He suggests that it is so called from “unum edo,” “I eat but one;” a rather fanciful etymology, it would seem.] people being generally content with eating but one. The Greeks, however, have found for it two names—“comaron” and “memecylon,” from which it would appear [This supposition is not warranted, from merely the fact of there being two names.] that there are two varieties. It has also with us another name besides that of “unedo,” being known also as the “arbutus.” Juba states that in Arabia this tree attains the height of fifty cubits.

Chap. 29.—The Relative Natures of Berry Fruits.

There is a great difference also among the various acinus fruits. First of all, among the grapes, we find considerable difference in respect to their firmness, the thinness or thickness of the skin, and the stone inside the fruit, which in some varieties is remarkably small, and in others even double in number: these last producing but very little juice. Very different, again, are the berries of the ivy [See B. xvi. c..] and the elder; [See B. xxiv. c. 35.] as also those in the pomegranate, [See B. xiii. c..] these being the only ones that are of an angular shape. These last, also, have not a membrane for each individual grain, but one to cover them all in common, and of a pale colour. All these fruits consist, too, of juice and flesh, and those more particularly which have but small seeds inside.

There are great varieties, too, among the berry [“Baccis.” Berries, properly so called.] fruits; the berry of the olive being quite different from that of the laurel, the berry of the lotus [The Celtis Australis of Linnæus.] from that of the cornel, and that of the myrtle from the berry of the lentisk. The berry, however, of the aquifolium [Supposed by some to be the holly. See B. xxv. c. 72.] and the thorn [He alludes to a variety of the cratægus.] is quite destitute of juice.

The cherry [The Cerasus vulgaris of modern botanists. It is said to have obtained its name from Cerasus, in Asia Minor, where Lucullus found it.] occupies a middle place between the berry and the acinus fruit: it is white at first, which is the case also with nearly all the berries. From white, some of the berries pass to green, the olive and the laurel, for instance; while in the mulberry, the cherry, and the cornel, the change is to red; and then in some to black, as with the mulberry, the cherry, and the olive, for instance.

Chap. 30. (25.)—Nine Varieties of the Cherry.

The cherry did not exist in Italy before the period of the victory gained over Mithridates by L. Lucullus, in the year of the City 680. He was the first to introduce this tree from Pontus, and now, in the course of one hundred and twenty years, it has travelled beyond the Ocean, and arrived in Britannia even. The cherry, as we have already stated, [He must allude to what he has stated in B. xii. c., for he has nowhere said that the cherry will not grow in Egypt. It is said that the cherry is not to be found in Egypt at the present day.] in spite of every care, it has been found impossible to rear in Egypt. Of this fruit, that known as the “Apronian” [The griotte cherry of the French, the mazzard of the English.] is the reddest variety, the Lutatian [A variety of the mazzard, Fée thinks.] being the blackest, and the Cæcilian [Some take this for the Cerasus Juliana, the guignier of the French, our white heart; others, again, for the merisier, our morello.] perfectly round. The Junian [It is most generally thought that this is the Cerasus avium of botanists, our morello, which is a very tender cherry.] cherry has an agreeable flavour, but only, so to say, when eaten beneath the tree, as they are so remarkably delicate that they will not bear carrying. The highest rank, however, has been awarded to the duracinus [Or “hard berry,” the Prunus bigarella of Linnæus, the red bigaroon.] variety, known in Campania as the “Plinian” [Fée queries whether it may not have received its name of “Pliniana” in compliment to our author, or one of his family.] cherry, and in Belgica to the Lusitanian [Hardouin thinks that this Portuguese cherry is the griotte, or mazzard.] cherry, as also to one that grows on the banks of the Rhenus. This last kind has a third colour, being a mixture [No such cherry is known at the present day.] of black, red, and green, and has always the appearance of being just on the turn to ripening. It is less than five years since the kind known as the “laurel-cherry” was introduced, of a bitter but not unpleasant flavour, the produce of a graft [Such a graft is impossible; the laurel-cherry must have had some other origin.] upon the laurel. The Macedonian cherry grows on a tree that is very small, [Fée suggests that this may be the early dwarf cherry.] and rarely exceeds three cubits in height; while the chamæcerasus [Or “ground-cherry;” a dwarf variety, if, indeed, it was a cherry-tree at all, of which Fée expresses some doubt.] is still smaller, being but a mere shrub. The cherry is one of the first trees to recompense the cultivator with its yearly growth; it loves cold localities and a site exposed to the north. [This explains, Fée says, why it will not grow in Egypt.] The fruit are sometimes dried in the sun, and preserved, like olives, in casks.

Chap. 31. (26.)—The Cornel. The Lentisk.

The same degree of care is expended also on the cultivation of the cornel [The Cornus mas of Linnæus. The fruit of the cornel has a tart flavour, but is not eaten in modern Europe, except by school-boys.] and the lentisk; [That produces mastich. See B. xii. c..] that it may not be thought, forsooth, that there is anything that was not made for the craving appetite of man! Various flavours are blended together, and one is compelled to please our palates by the aid of another—hence it is that the produce of different lands and various climates are so often mingled with one another. For one kind of food it is India that we summon to our aid, and then for another we lay Egypt under contribution, or else Crete, or Cyrene, every country, in fact: no, nor does man stick at poisons [He alludes more especially, perhaps, to the use of cicuta or hemlock by drunkards, who looked upon it as an antidote to the effects of wine. See B. xiv. c..] even, if he can only gratify his longing to devour everything: a thing that will be still more evident when we come to treat of the nature of herbs.

Chap. 32. (27.)—Thirteen Different Flavours of Juices.

While upon this subject, it may be as well to state that there are no less than thirteen different flavours [Fée remarks, that in this enumeration there is no method. Linnæus enumerates eleven principal flavours in the vegetable kingdom—dry or insipid, aqueous, viscous, salt, acrid, styptic, sweet, fat, bitter, acid, and nauseous; these terms, however seem, some of them, to be very indefinite.] belonging in common to the fruits and the various juices: the sweet, the luscious, the unctuous, the bitter, the rough, the acrid, [It requires considerable discernment to appropriate nicely its English synonym to these four varieties of tastes, “acer, acutus, acerbus, and acidus,” more especially when we find that the “bitter” and the “rough” are occupied already by the “amarus” and the “austerus.”] the pungent, the sharp, the sour, and the salt; in addition to which, there are three other kinds of flavours of a nature that is truly singular. The first of these last kinds is that flavour in which several other flavours are united, as in wine, for instance; for in it we are sensible of the rough, the pungent, [In allusion, probably, to the pungency of the aroma or bouquet.] and the luscious, all at the same moment, and all of them flavours that belong to other substances. The second of these flavours is that in which we are sensible at the same instant of a flavour that belongs to another substance, and yet of one that is peculiar to the individual object of which we are tasting, such as that of milk, for instance: indeed, in milk we cannot correctly say that there is any pronounced flavour that is either sweet, or unctuous, or luscious, a sort of smooth taste [Lenitate.] in the mouth being predominant, which holds the place of a more decided flavour. The third instance is that of water, which has no flavour whatever, nor, indeed, any flavouring principle; [This seems to be the meaning of “succus.”] but still, this very absence of flavour is considered as constituting one of them, and forming a peculiar class [The “insipid.”] of itself; so much so, indeed, that if in water any taste or flavouring principle is detected, it is looked upon as impure.

In the perception of all these various flavours the smell plays a very considerable [This is so much the case, that the most nauseous medicine may be taken almost with impunity—so far as taste is concerned—by tightly pressing the nostrils while taking it.] part, there being a very great affinity between them. Water, however, is properly quite inodorous: and if the least smell is to be perceived, it is not pure water. It is a singular thing that three of the principal elements [Fée remarks that this is true of fire, and of distilled or perfectly pure water; but that physiologists are universally agreed that the air has its own peculiar smell.] of Nature—water, air, and fire—should have neither taste nor smell, nor, indeed, any flavouring principle whatever.

Chap. 33. (28.)—The Colour and Smell of Juices.

Among the juices, those of a vinous [All fruits that are rich in sugar and amidine, Fée says, either have, or acquire in time, a vinous flavour, by the development of a certain quantity of alcohol.] flavour belong to the pear, the mulberry, and the myrtle, and not to the grape, a very singular fact. An unctuous taste is detected in the olive, [In the fruit with a fixed oil, this principle succeeds, when they are ripe, to the mucilaginous.] the laurel, the walnut, and the almond; sweetness exists in the grape, the fig, and the date; while in the plum class we find a watery [He must mean a thinner juice, though still sweet.] juice. There is a considerable difference, too, in the colours assumed by the various juices. That of the mulberry, the cherry, the cornel, and the black grape resembles the colour of blood, while in the white grape the juice is white. The humour found in the summit of the fig [About the peduncle or stalk of the fig. The juice here, Fée says, is a real sugar, of the same nature as that which circulates throughout the whole fruit: the juice in the interior of which is produced by another order of vessels.] is of a milky nature, but not so with the juice found in the body of the fruit. In the apple it is the colour of foam, [The juice is only foamy when the vinous fermentation is established. It has that appearance, however, when the fruit is bitten with the teeth.] while in the peach it is perfectly colourless, and this is the case, too, with the duracinus, [The “hard-berry,” or nectarine.] which abounds in juice; for who can say that he has ever detected any colour in it?

Smell, too, presents its own peculiar marvels; in the apple it is pungent, [In the sense of aromatic, or penetrating.] and it is weak in the peach, while in the sweet [He probably means those of a luscious or sirupy nature, without any acidity whatever.] fruits we perceive none at all: so, too, the sweet wines are inodorous, while the thinner ones have more aroma, and are much sooner fit for use than those of a thicker nature. [He seems to mean that the thick, luscious wines require longer keeping, before they will gain any aroma at all. This would be done, probably, at the expense of their sweetness.] The odoriferous fruits are not pleasing to the palate in the same degree, seeing that the flavour [Or he may mean, that a fine flavour and a fine smell cannot co-exist.] of them does not come up to their smell: hence it is that in the citron we find the smell so extremely penetrating, [The reading here should be “acutissimus,” probably, instead of “acerrimus.” The odour exists in the rind of the citron and in the outer coat of the quince; if these are removed, the fruit becomes inodorous.] and the taste sour in the highest degree. Sometimes the smell is of a more delicate [“Tenuis.” He may possibly mean “faint.”] nature, as in the quince, for instance; while the fig has no odour whatever.