Chaps. 48-61.

Chap. 48.—The Mode in Which Trees Bear.

Some among the fruit-trees [This statement, which is drawn from Theophrastus, is rather fanciful than rigorously true.] bear on both the sides of the branches and the summit, the pear, for instance, the fig-tree, and the myrtle. In other respects the trees are pretty nearly of a similar nature to the cereals, for in them we find the ear growing from the summit, while in the leguminous varieties the pod grows from the sides. The palm, as we have already [B. xiii. c..] stated, is the only one that has fruit hanging down in bunches enclosed in capsules.

Chap. 49.—Trees in Which the Fruit Appears Before the Leaves.

The other trees, again, bear their fruit beneath the leaves, for the purpose of protection, with the exception of the fig, the leaf of which is very large, and gives a great abundance of shade; hence it is that we find the fruit placed above it; in addition to which, the leaf makes its appearance after the fruit. There is said to be a remarkable peculiarity connected with one species of fig that is found in Cilicia, Cyprus, and Hellas; the fruit grows beneath the leaves, while at the same time the green abortive fruit, that never reaches maturity, is seen growing on the top of them. There is also a tree that produces an early fig, known to the Athenians by the name of “prodromos.” [Or “forerunner.” The Spaniards call a similar fig “brevas,” the “ready ripener.”] In the Laconian varieties of this fruit more particularly, we find trees that bear two crops [See B. xv. c..] in the year.

Chap. 50. (27.)—Trees That Bear Two Crops in a Year. Trees That Bear Three Crops.

In the island of Cea there are wild figs that bear three times in one year. By the first crop the one that succeeds is summoned forth, and by that the third. It is by the agency of this last crop that caprification [See B. xv. c..] is performed. In the wild fig, too, the fruit grows on the opposite side of the leaves. There are some pears and apples, too, that bear two crops in the year, while there are some early varieties also. The wild apple bears twice [This does not happen in the northern climates; though sometimes it is the case that a fruit-tree blossoms again towards the end of summer, and if the autumn is fine and prolonged, these late fruits will ripen. Such a phenomenon, however, is of very rare occurrence.] in the year, its second crop coming on after the rising of Arcturus, [See B. xviii. c. 74.] in sunny localities more particularly. There are vines, too, that will even bear three times in the year, a circumstance that has procured for them the name of “frantic” [“Insanæ.” There are some varieties of the vine which blossom more than once, and bear green grapes and fully ripe ones at the same moment.] vines. On these we see grapes just ripening, others beginning to swell, and others, again, in blossom, all at the same moment.

M. Varro [De Re Rust. c. 7.] informs us, that there was formerly at Smyrna, near [The suggested reading, “apud matrem magnam,” seems preferable to “apud mare,” and receives support from what is said relative to Smyrna in B. xiv. c..] the Temple of the Mother of the Gods, a vine that bore two crops in the year, as also an apple-tree of a similar nature in the territory of Consentia. This, however, is constantly to be witnessed in the territory of Tacapa, [See B. v. c. 3.] in Africa, of which we shall have to speak more fully on another occasion, [B. xviii. c. 51.] so remarkable is the fertility of the soil. The cypress also bears three times in the year, for its berries are gathered in the months of January, May, and September, being all three of different size.

There are also certain peculiarities observed in the different modes in which the trees bear their fruit, the arbutus and the quercus being most fruitful in the upper part, the walnut and the marisca [B. xv. c..] fig in the lower. All trees, the older they grow, the more early they bear, and this more particularly in sunny spots and where the soil is not over-rich. All the forest-trees are slower in bringing their fruit to maturity; and indeed, in some of them the fruit never becomes fully ripe. [This is not the fact: the fruits of all trees have their proper time for ripening.] Those trees, too, about the roots of which the earth is ploughed or broken and loosened, bring their fruit to maturity more speedily than those in which this has been neglected; by this process they are also rendered more fruitful.

Chap. 51.—Which Trees Become Old with the Greatest Rapidity, and Which Most Slowly.

There are great differences also in trees in respect to age. The almond and the pear [He speaks here in too general terms; the pear, for instance, is not more fruitful when old than when young.] are the most fruitful when old, which is the case also with the glandiferous trees and a certain species of fig. Others, again, are most prolific when young, though the fruit is later in coming to maturity, a thing particularly to be observed in the vine; for in those that are old the wine is of better quality, while the produce of the younger trees is given in greater abundance. The apple-tree becomes old very early, and the fruit which it produces when old is of inferior quality, being of smaller size and very liable to be attacked by maggots: indeed, these insects will breed in the tree itself. The fig is the only one of all the fruit-trees that is submitted to any process with the view of expediting the ripening of the fruit, [He speaks of the process of caprification. See B. xv. c..] a marvellous thing, indeed, that a greater value should be set upon produce that comes out of its proper season! All trees which bear their fruit before the proper time become prematurely [So our proverb, “Soon ripe, soon rotten;” applicable to mankind as well as trees. See B. xxiii. c. 23.] old; indeed, some of them wither and die all of a sudden, being utterly exhausted by the too favourable influence of the weather, a thing that happens to the vine more particularly.

(28.) On the other hand, the mulberry becomes aged [See B. xv. c.. The mulberry tree will live for several centuries.] but very slowly, and is never exhausted by its crops. Those trees, too, the wood of which is variegated, arrive at old age but slowly,—the palm, the maple, and the poplar, for instance.

(29.) Trees grow old more rapidly when the earth is ploughed and loosened about the [This stimulates the sap, and adds to its activity: but the tree grows old all the sooner, being the more speedily exhausted.] roots; forest trees at a later period. Speaking in general terms, we may say that care employed in the culture of trees seems to promote their fertility, while increased fertility accelerates old age. Hence it is that the carefully tended trees are the first to blossom, and the first to bud; in a word, are the most precocious in every respect: but all natural productions which are in any way weakened are more susceptible of atmospheric influences.

Chap. 52.—Trees Which Bear Various Products. Cratægum.

Many trees bear more than one production, a fact which we have already mentioned [In cc. of the present Book.] when speaking of the glandiferous trees. In the number of these there is the laurel, which bears its own peculiar kind of grape, and more particularly the barren laurel, [This passage is quite unintelligible; and it is with good reason that Fée questions whether Pliny really understood the author that he copied from.] which bears nothing else; for which reason it is looked upon by some persons as the male tree. The filbert, too, bears catkins, which are hard and compact, but of no use [Fée remarks, that Pliny does not seem to know that the catkin is an assemblage of flowers, and that without it the tree would be totally barren.] whatever.

(30.) But it is the box-tree that supplies us with the greatest number of products, not only its seed, but a berry also, known by the name of cratægum; [Pliny blunders sadly here, in copying from Theophrastus, B. iii. c. 16. He mixes up a description of the box and the cratægus, or holm-oak, making the latter to be a seed of the former: and he then attributes a mistletoe to the box, which Theophrastus speaks of as growing on the cratægus.] while on the north side it produces mistletoe, and on the south hyphear; two products of which I shall shortly have to speak more [See c., where he enlarges on the varieties of the mistletoe.] at length. Sometimes, indeed, this tree has all four of these products growing upon it at the same moment.

Chap. 53.—Differences in Trees in Respect of the Trunks and Branches.

Some trees are of a simple form, and have but a single trunk rising from the root, together with numerous branches; such as the olive, for instance, the fig, and the vine; others again are of a shrubby nature, such as the paliurus, [See B. xxiv. c. 71.] the myrtle, and the filbert; which last, indeed, is all the better, and the more abundant its fruit, the more numerous its branches. In some trees, again, there is no trunk at all, as is the case with one species of box, [He means the garden or border-box, mentioned in c. of this Book.] and the lotus [See B. xiii. c.: the African lotus, probably; the Zizyphus lotus of Desfontaines.] of the parts beyond sea. Some trees are bifurcated, while there are some that branch out into as many as five parts. Others, again, divide in the trunk but have no branches, as in the case of the elder; while others have no division in the trunk but throw out branches, such as the pitch-tree, for instance.

In some trees the branches are symmetrically arranged, the pitch-tree and the fir, for example; while with others they are dispersed without any order or regularity, as in the robur, the apple, and the pear. In the fir the branches are thrown out from the trunk straight upwards, pointing to the sky, and not drooping downwards from the sides of the trunk. It is a singular thing, [This statement is entirely incorrect. If a tree loses the terminal bud, it will grow no higher; but it will not die if the extremities of the branches are cut. Such, in fact, is much more likely to happen when they are all cut off, from the extreme loss of juices which must naturally ensue at the several cicatrices united.] but this tree will die if the ends of its branches are cut, though, if taken off altogether, no bad effect is produced. If it is cut, too, below the place where the branches were, the part of the tree which is left will continue to live; but if, on the other hand, the top only of the tree is removed, the whole of it will die.

Some trees, again, throw out branches from the roots, the elm for example; while others are branchy at the top, the pine for instance, and the lotus [The Celtis australis of Linnæus. Pliny is in error in calling this tree the “Grecian bean.” In B. xiii. c., he erroneously calls the African lotus by the name of “celtis,” which only belongs to the lotus of Italy; that of Africa being altogether different.] or Grecian bean, the fruit of which, though wild, resembles the cherry very closely, and is called the lotus at Rome, on account of its sweetness. For sheltering houses these trees are more particularly esteemed, as they throw out their branches to a considerable distance, from a short trunk, thus affording a very extensive shade, and very frequently encroaching upon the neighbouring mansions. There is no tree, however, the shade afforded by which is less long-lived than this, and when it loses its leaves in winter, it affords no shelter from the sun. No tree has a more sightly bark, or one which has greater attractions for the eye; or branches which are longer, stouter, or more numerous; indeed, one might almost look upon them as forming so many trees. The bark [The bark, which is astringent, is still used in preparing skins, and a black colouring matter extracted from the root is employed in dyeing wool.] of it is used for dyeing skins, and the root for colouring wool.

The branches of the apple-tree have a peculiar conformation; knots are formed which resemble the muzzles [Quite an accidental resemblance, if, indeed, it ever existed.] of wild beasts, several smaller ones being united to a larger.

Chap. 54.—The Branches of Trees.

Some of the branches are barren, and do not germinate; this takes place either from a natural deficiency of strength, or else some injury received in consequence of having been cut, and the cicatrix impeding the natural functions. The same that the branch is in the trees that spread out, is the eye [“Oculus”—the bud on the trunk.] in the vine, and the joint in the reed. All trees are naturally the thickest in the parts that are nearest the ground. The fir, the larch, the palm, the cypress, and the elm, and, indeed, every tree that has but a single trunk, develope themselves in their remarkable height. Among the branchy trees the cherry is sometimes [This must be either a mistake or an exaggeration; the cherry never being a very large tree.] found to yield a beam forty cubits in length by two in thickness throughout. Some trees divide into branches from the very ground, as in the apple-tree, for example.

Chap. 55. (31.)—The Bark of Trees.

In some trees the bark [It is evident that he is speaking of the epidermis only, and not the cortical layers and the liber.] is thin, as in the laurel and the lime; in others, again, it is thick, as in the robur; in some it is smooth, as in the apple and the fig, while in the robur and the palm it is rough: in all kinds it becomes more wrinkled when the tree is old. In some trees the bark bursts spontaneously, as in the vine for instance, while in others it falls off even, as we see in the apple and the arbutus. In the cork-tree and the poplar, the bark is substantial and fleshy; in the vine and the reed it is membraneous. In the cherry it is similar to the coats of the papyrus, while in the vine, the lime, and the fir, it is composed of numerous layers. In others, again, it is single, the fig and the reed for instance.

Chap. 56.—The Roots of Trees.

There are great differences, too, in the roots of trees. In the fig, the robur, and the plane, they are numerous; in the apple they are short and thin, while in the fir and the larch they are single; and by this single root is the tree supported, although we find some small fibres thrown out from it laterally. They are thick and unequal in the laurel and the olive, in which last they are branchy also; while in the robur they are solid and fleshy. [The roots of trees being ligneous, “carnosæ,” Fée remarks, is an inappropriate term.] The robur, too, throws its roots downwards to a very considerable depth. Indeed, if we are to believe Virgil, [Georg. ii. 291.] the æsculus has a root that descends as deep into the earth as the height to which the trunk ascends in the air. The roots of the olive, the apple, and the cypress, creep almost upon the very surface: in some trees they run straight and horizontally, as in the laurel and the olive; while in others they have a sinuous course—the fig for example. In some trees the roots are bristling with small filaments, as in the fir, and many of the forest trees; the mountaineers cut off these fine filaments, and weave with them very handsome flasks, [“Lagenas.” Fée takes this to mean here vessels to hold liquids, and remarks that the workers in wicker cannot attain this degree of perfection at the present day.] and various other articles.

Some writers say that the roots of trees do not descend below the level to which the sun’s heat is able to penetrate; which, of course, depends upon the nature of the soil, whether it happens to be thin or dense. This, however, I look upon [Pliny is in error in rejecting this notion.] as a mistake: and, in fact, we find it stated by some authors that a fir was transplanted, the roots of which had penetrated eight cubits in depth, and even then the whole of it was not dug up, it being torn asunder. [See B. xii. c., and B. xiii. c.. What Pliny states of the fir, or Abies pectinata, Theophrastus relates of the πεύκη, or Abies excelsa of Decandolles. There is little doubt that in either case the statement is incorrect.] The citrus has a root that goes the very deepest of all, and is of great extent; next after it come the plane, the robur, and the various glandiferous trees. In some trees, the laurel for instance, the roots are more tenacious of life the nearer they are to the surface: hence, when the trunk withers, it is cut down, and the tree shoots again with redoubled vigour. Some think that the shorter the roots are, the more rapidly the tree decays; a supposition which is plainly contradicted by the fig, the root of which is among the very largest, while the tree becomes aged at a remarkably early period. I regard also as incorrect what some authors have stated, as to the roots of trees diminishing [On the contrary, the roots of trees increase in size till the period of their death.] when they are old; for I once saw an ancient oak, uprooted by a storm, the roots of which covered a jugerum of ground.

Chap. 57.—Trees Which Have Grown Spontaneously from the Ground.

It is a not uncommon thing for trees when uprooted to receive new strength when replanted, the earth about their roots forming a sort of cicatrix [By preventing the action of the air from drying the roots, and so killing the tree.] there. This is particularly the case with the plane, which, from the density of its branches, presents a remarkably broad surface to the wind: when this happens, the branches are cut off, and the tree, thus lightened, is replaced in its furrow: this, too, has also been done before now with the walnut, the olive, and many others.

(32.) We have many instances cited also of trees falling to the ground without there being any storm or other perceptible cause, but merely by way of portentous omen, and then rising again of themselves. A prodigy of this nature happened to the citizens of Rome during their wars with the Cimbri: at Nuceria, in the grove consecrated to Juno, an elm inclined to such a degree, even after the top had been cut off, as to overhang the altar there, but it afterwards recovered itself to such an extent as to blossom immediately: it was from that very moment, too, that the majesty of the Roman people began to flourish once again after it had been laid low by disaster and defeat. A similar circumstance is said to have taken place also at Philippi, where a willow, which had fallen down, and the top of which had been taken off, rose again; and at Stagira, in the Museum [A grove, probably, consecrated to the Muses.] there, where the same thing occurred to a white poplar; all which events were looked upon as favourable omens. But what is most wonderful of all, is the fact that a plane, at Antandros, resumed its original position even after its sides had been rough-hewn all round with the adze, [These stories must be regarded as either fables or impostures; though it is very possible for a tree to survive after the epidermis has been removed with the adze.] and took root again: it was a tree fifteen cubits long, and four ulnæ in thickness.

Chap. 58.—How Trees Grow Spontaneously—Diversities in Their Nature, the Same Trees Not Growing Everywhere.

The trees which we owe to Nature are produced in three different ways; spontaneously, by seed sown, or by a slip which throws out a root. Art has multiplied the methods of reproduction, as we shall have occasion to state in its own appropriate Book: [See B. xvii. c..] at present our sole subject is the operations of Nature, and the manifold and marvellous methods she adopts. The trees, as we have already stated, [In c. of this Book.] do not all of them grow in every locality, nor will they live, many of them, [It is not improbable that he has in view here the passage in Virgil’s Georgics, B. ii. l. 109, et seq.] when transplanted: this happens sometimes through a natural antipathy on the part of the tree, sometimes through an innate stubbornness, but more frequently through the weakness of the variety so transplanted, either the climate being unfavourable, or the soil repulsive to it.

Chap. 59.—Plants That Will Not Grow in Certain Places.

Balsamum [Or balm of Gilead. See B. xii. c.. Bruce assures us that it is indigenous to Abyssinia; if so, it has been transplanted in Arabia. It is no more to be found in Judæa.] will grow nowhere but [in [This is inserted, as it is evident that the text without it is imperfect. Fée says that even in Judæa it was transplanted from Arabia.] Judæa]: and the citron of Assyria refuses to bear fruit in any other country. The palm, too, will not grow everywhere, and even if it does grow in some places, it will not bear: sometimes, indeed, it may make a show and promise of bearing, but even then its fruit comes to nothing, it seeming to have borne them thus far in spite of itself. The cinnamon [As to the identification of the cinnamomum of Pliny, see B. xii. cc. and, and the Notes.] shrub has not sufficient strength to acclimatize itself in the countries that lie in the vicinity of Syria. Amomum, [As to the question of the identity of the amomum, see B. xii. c..] too, and nard, [See B. xii. c..] those most delicate of perfumes, will not endure the carriage from India to Arabia, nor yet conveyance by sea; indeed, King Seleucus did make the attempt, but in vain. But what is more particularly wonderful, is the fact that most of the trees by care may be prevailed upon to live when transplanted; for sometimes the soil may be so managed as to nourish the foreigner and give support to the stranger plant; climate, however, can never be changed. The pepper-tree [This cannot be the ordinary Piper nigrum, or black pepper, which does not deserve the title “arbor.” It is, no doubt, the pepper of Italy, which he mentions in B. xii. c..] will live in Italy, and cassia [The Cassia Italica, probably, of B. xii. c.. The cassia of the East could not possibly survive in Italy. The fact is, no doubt, that the Romans gave the names of cassia, piper, and amomum, to certain indigenous plants, and then persuaded themselves that they had the genuine plants of the East.] in the northern climates even, while the incense-tree [See B. xii. c..] has been known to live in Lydia: but how are we to impart to these productions the requisite warmth of the sun, in order to make all the crude juices go off by evaporation, and ripen the resins that distil from them?

Nearly as great a marvel, too, is the fact that the nature of the tree may be modified by circumstances, and yet the tree itself be none the less vigorous in its growth. Nature originally gave the cedar [Under the name of Cedrus, no doubt, several of the junipers have been included. See B. xiii. c..] to localities of burning heat, and yet we find it growing in the mountains of Lycia and Phrygia. She made the laurel, too, averse to cold, and yet there is no tree that grows in greater abundance on Mount Olympus. At the city of Panticapæum, in the vicinity of the Cimmerian Bosporus, King Mithridates and the inhabitants of the place used every possible endeavour, with a view to certain religious ceremonies, to cultivate the myrtle [Fée is inclined to doubt this statement. The myrtle has been known to stand the winters of Lower Brittany.] and the laurel: they could not succeed, however, although trees abound there which require a hot climate, such as the pomegranate and the fig, as well as apples and pears of the most approved quality. In the same country, too, the trees that belong to the colder climates, such as the pine, the fir, and the pitch-tree, refuse to grow. But why go search for instances in Pontus? In the vicinity of Rome itself it is only with the greatest difficulty [Owing, no doubt, as Fée says, solely to bad methods of cultivation. The same, too, with the grafted peach and the Greek nut or almond.] that the cherry and the chesnut will grow, and the peach-tree, too, at Tusculum: the Greek nut, too, is grown there from grafts only at a cost of considerable labour, while Tarracina abounds with whole woods of it.

Chap. 60. (33.)—The Cypress.

The cypress [The Cupressus sempervirens of Linnæus, the Cupressus fastigiata of Decandolle.] is an exotic, and has been reckoned one of the trees that are naturalized with the greatest difficulty; so much so, indeed, that Cato [De Re Rust. cc. 48, 151.] has expatiated upon it at greater length and more frequently than any of the others. This tree is naturally of a stubborn [“Morosa;” meaning that it reaches maturity but very slowly.] disposition, bears a fruit that is utterly useless, a berry that causes a wry [Tristis tentantum sensu torquebit amaror.—Virg. Georg. ii. 247.] face when tasted, and a leaf that is bitter: it also gives out a disagreeable pungent smell, [This statement is exaggerated.] and its shade is far from agreeable. The wood that it furnishes is but scanty, so much so indeed, that it may be almost regarded as little more than a shrub. This tree is sacred to Pluto, and hence it is used as a sign of mourning [It is still to be seen very frequently in the cemeteries of Greece and Constantinople.] placed at the entrance of a house: the female [The cypress is in reality monœcious, the structure of the same plant being both male and female.] tree is for a long time barren. The pyramidal appearance that it presents has caused it not to be rejected, but for a long time it was only used for marking the intervals between rows of pines: at the present day, however, it is clipped and trained to form hedge-rows, or else is thinned and lengthened out in the various designs [This was formerly done with the cypress, in England, to a considerable extent. Such absurdities are now but rare.] employed in ornamental gardening, and which represent scenes of hunting, fleets, and various other objects: these it covers with a thin small leaf, which is always green.

There are two varieties of the cypress; the one [The Cupressus fastigiata of Decandolle: and a variety of the Cupressus sempervirens of Linnæus.] tapering and pyramidal, and which is known as the female; while the male tree [The Cupressus horizontalis of Miller; the variety B of the C. sempervirens of Linnæus.] throws its branches straight out from the body, and is often pruned and employed as a rest for the vine. Both the male and the female are permitted to throw out their branches, which are cut and employed for poles and props, being worth, after thirteen years’ growth, a denarius a-piece. In respect of income, a plantation of cypress is remarkably profitable, so much so, indeed, that it was a saying in old times that a cypress-wood is a dowry for a daughter. [The present name given to this tree in the island of Crete, is the “daughter’s dowry.”] The native country of this tree is the island of Crete, although Cato [De Re Rust. c. 151.] calls it Tarentine, Tarentum being the first place, I suppose, in which it was naturalized: in the island of Ænaria, [B. iii. c. 12.] also, if the cypress is cut down, it will grow again [This, Fée says, is the case with none of the coniferous trees.] from the root. But, in the Isle of Crete, in whatever place the earth is moved, this tree will shoot up [Of course this spontaneous creation of the cypress is fabulous; and, indeed, the whole account, which is borrowed from Theophrastus, is greatly exaggerated.] of its own natural vigour, and immediately appear above the soil; indeed, in that island there is no occasion even to solicit the soil, for it grows spontaneously there, on the mountains of Ida more particularly, and those known as the White Mountains. On the very summit of these elevations, from which the snows never depart, we find the cypress growing in great abundance; a thing that is truly marvellous—seeing that, in other countries, it will only grow in warm localities; from which it would appear to have a great dislike to its native climate.

Chap. 61.—That the Earth Often Bears Productions Which It Has Never Borne Before.

It is not only the quality of the soil and the unchanging influences of the climate that affect the nature of trees, but wet and showery weather also, temporarily at least. Indeed, the torrents very often bring down with them seeds, and sometimes we find those of unknown kinds even floating along. This took place in the territory of Cyrenaica, at the period when laser was first grown there, as we shall have occasion to mention when we speak of the nature of the various herbs. [B. xix. c. 15.] A forest, too, sprang [This story, which is borrowed from Theophrastus, is evidently fabulous.] up in the vicinity of the city of Cyrene, just after a shower of rain, of a dense, pitchy nature, about the year of the City of Rome 430.