Chaps. 72-79.

Chap. 72. (38.)—The Juices of Trees.

There is a juice in the bark of trees, which must be looked upon as their blood, though it is not of a similar nature in all. In the fig it is of a milky consistency, and has the peculiar property of curdling milk, and so forming cheese. [Though the acid it contains would curdle milk, still its natural acridity would disqualify it from being used for making cheese.] In the cherry-tree this juice is gummy, in the elm clammy, in the apple viscous and fatty, while in the vine and the pear it is watery. The more viscous this humour is, the more long-lived the tree. In a word, we find in the bodies of trees—as with all other beings that are animated—skin, blood, flesh, sinews, veins, bones, and marrow; the bark serving them in place of skin. It is a singular fact connected with the mulberry-tree, that when the medical men wish to extract its juice, if the incision is lightly made, by a blow with a stone, and at the second hour of the day in spring, the juice will flow: but if, on the other hand, a wound is inflicted to any depth, it has all the appearance of being dried up.

Immediately beneath the bark in most trees there is a fatty substance, which, from its colour, has obtained the name of alburnum: [The white sap or inner bark; the aubier of the French. Fée remarks, that its supposed analogy with fat is incorrect.] it is soft, and is the very worst part of the wood, and in the robur even will very easily rot, being particularly liable to wood-worm, for which reason it is invariably removed. Beneath this fat lies the flesh [He means the outer ligneous layers of the wood. They differ only in their relative hardness.] of the tree, and then under that, its bones, or, in other words, the choicest part of the wood. Those trees which have a dry wood, the olive, for instance, bear fruit every other year only: this is more the case with them than with those the wood of which is of a fleshy nature, such as the cherry, for instance. It is not all trees, too, that have this fat and flesh in any abundance, the same as we find to be the case among the more active animals. The box, the cornel, and the olive have none at all, nor yet any marrow, and a very small proportion, too, of blood. In the same way, too, the service-tree has no bones, and the elder no flesh, while both of them have marrow in the greatest abundance. Reeds, too, have hardly any flesh.

Chap. 73.—The Veins and Fibres of Trees.

In the flesh of some trees we find both fibres [“Pulpæ.” The ligneous fibres which form the tissue of the bark.] and veins: they are easily distinguished. The veins [“Venæ.” By this term he probably means the nutritive vessels and the ligneous fibres united. It was anciently the general belief that the fibres acted their part in the nutriment of the tree.] are larger, while the fibres are of whiter material, and are to be found in those woods more particularly which are easily split. Hence it is that if the ear is applied to the extremity of a beam of wood, however long, a tap with a graver [“Graphium.” Properly a stylus or iron pen.] even upon the other end may be distinctly heard, the sound penetrating by the passages which run straight through it: by these means it is that we ascertain whether timber runs awry, or is interrupted by knots. The tuberosities which we find on trees resemble the kernels [“Glandia.” This analogy, Fée remarks, does not hold good.] that are formed in flesh: they contain neither veins nor fibres, but only a kind of tough, solid flesh, rolled up in a sort of ball: it is these tuberosities that are the most esteemed parts [See B. xiii. c., and c. of this Book.] in the citrus and the maple. As to the other kinds of wood which are employed for making tables, the trees are split into planks lengthwise, and the parts are then selected along which the fibres run, and properly rounded; for the wood would be too brittle to use if it were cut in segments crosswise. [And at an angle with the grain or fibre of the wood.] In the beech, the grain of the fibrous part runs crosswise; [And at right angles. In the Dicotyledons, the disposition of the fibres is longitudinal and transversal.] hence it is that the ancients held in such high esteem all vessels made with the wood of it. Manius Curius made oath, on one occasion, that he had not touched an article of all the spoil except a single oil cruet [Guttum.] of beech, to use for sacrificing. Wood is always put lengthwise into the water to season, as that part which was nearest the root will sink to a greater [For the simple reason, because the part near the root is of greater diameter.] depth than the other. In some wood there is fibre, without veins, and merely consisting of filaments slightly knit together: wood of this nature is remarkably fissile. Other wood, again, is more easily broken across than split, such as the wood of those trees that have no fibre, the olive and the vine, for instance: on the other hand, in the fig-tree, the whole of the body consists of flesh. [Soft ligneous layers.] The holm-oak, the cornel, the robur, the cytisus, the mulberry, the ebony, the lotus, and the other trees which we have mentioned [In c. of this Book.] as being destitute of marrow, consist entirely of bone. [Hard wood—such as we know generally as “heart;” “heart of oak” for instance.] All these woods are of a blackish colour, with the exception of the cornel, of which glossy yellow hunting-spears are made, marked with incisions for their further embellishment. In the cedar, the juniper, and the larch, the wood is red.

(39.) In Greece the female larch furnishes a wood [Probably that of the ligneous layers near the pith or sap.] which is known as ægis, and is just the colour of honey. This wood has been found to be proof against decay, and forms the pannels used by painters, being never known to gape or split; the portion thus employed is that which lies nearest to the pith. In the fir-tree this part is called “leuson” by the Greeks. In the cedar, too, the hardest part is the wood that lies nearest to the sap: after the slimy [“Limo:” the alburnum previously mentioned.] pith has been carefully removed, it has a similar degree of hardness to the bones in the bodies of animals. It is said, too, that in Greece the inner part of the elder is remarkably firm: indeed, those whose business it is to make hunting spears, prefer this material to all others, it being a wood composed wholly of skin and bone.

Chap. 74.—The Felling of Trees.

The proper time for felling trees that are wanted for barking, the round, tapering trees, for instance, that are employed in temples and for other purposes, is at the period of germination: [This practice was formerly forbidden by the forest laws of France.] for at other times it is quite impossible to detach the bark from the rotten wood that adheres to it, while the wood itself assumes a blackish hue. Squared logs, and wood from which the bark has been lopped, are generally cut in the period that intervenes between the winter solstice and the prevalence of the west winds; or else, if it is necessary to anticipate that period, at the setting of Arcturus and before that of the Lyre, the very earliest period being the summer solstice: the days of these respective constellations will be mentioned in the appropriate place. [In B. xviii.]

In general it is looked upon as quite sufficient to use all due precaution that a tree is not rough-hewn before it has borne its yearly crop. The robur, if cut in spring, is subject to the attacks of wood-worm, but if cut in winter, will neither rot nor warp: otherwise it is very liable to bend and become awry, as well as to crack; the same is the case, too, with the cork-tree, even if cut down at the proper time. The state of the moon, [Pliny borrows this superstition from Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. vi. c. 1.] too, is of infinite importance, and it is generally recommended that trees should be cut only between the twentieth and the thirtieth days of the month. It is generally agreed, however, by all, that it is the very best time for felling timber, when the moon is in conjunction with the sun, a day which is called by some persons the interlunium, and by others the moon’s silence. At all events, it was under these circumstances that Tiberius Cæsar gave orders for the larches to be cut in Rhætia, that were required for the purpose of rebuilding the bridge of the Naumachia [This was the name of mimic sea-fights, exhibited at Rome in the Circus or amphitheatres, or else in lakes dug expressly for the purpose. Hardouin says, there were five Naumachiæ at Rome, in the 14th region of the City.] after it had been destroyed by fire. Some persons say that the moon ought not only to be in conjunction, but below the horizon as well, a thing that can only happen in the night. If the conjunction should chance to fall on the very day of the winter solstice, the timber, they say, that is then felled will be of everlasting duration; the next best being the timber that is cut when the conjunction coincides with the constellations previously mentioned. There are some, too, who add the rising of the Dog-star as a favourable time, and say that it was at this period that the timber was cut which was employed in building the Forum of Augustus.

Wood which is intended for timber ought to be cut neither when too young nor too old. Some persons, too—and the practice is by no means without its utility—cut round [This practice is no longer followed.] the tree as far as the pith, and then leave the timber standing, so that all the juices may be enabled to escape. Going back to ancient times, it is a remarkable fact, that in the first Punic War the fleet commanded by Duillius was on the water within sixty days from the time the timber was cut: and, what is still more so, Piso relates that King Hiero had two hundred and twenty ships wholly constructed in forty-five days: in the second Punic War, too, the fleet of Scipio was at sea the fortieth day after the axe had been put to the tree. Such is the energy and dispatch that can be displayed on occasions of emergency.

Chap. 75.—The Opinion of Cato on the Felling of Timber.

Cato, [De Re Rust. c. 31; also cc. 17 and 37.] a man of consummate authority in all practical matters, expresses himself in relation to timber to the following effect:—“For making presses, employ the wood of the sappinus in preference. When you root up the elm, the pine, the nut-tree, or, indeed, any other kind of tree, mind and do so when the moon is on the wane, after midday, and when there is no south wind blowing. The proper time for cutting a tree is when the seed [This practice is observed in modern times.] is ripe, but be careful not to draw it away or plane it while the dew is falling.” He then proceeds to say [C..] —“Never touch the timber, except when the moon is on the change, or else at the end of the second quarter: at those periods you may either root up the tree, or fell it as it stands. The next seven days after the full moon are the best of all for grubbing up a tree. Be particularly careful, too, not to rough-hew timber, or, indeed, to cut or touch it, unless it is perfectly dry; and by no means while it is covered with frost or dew.”

The Emperor Tiberius used also to observe the changes of the moon for cutting his hair. [Pliny, no doubt, observes an analogy between the hair of the human head, and trees as forming the hair of the earth. The superstition here mentioned, Fée says, was, till very recently, observed in France to a considerable extent.] M. Varro [De Re Rust. 1, 37.] has recommended that the hair should be cut at full moon only, if we would avoid baldness.

Chap. 76.—The Size of Trees: The Nature of Wood: The Sappinus.

From the larch, and still more the fir, after it has been cut, a liquid [Terebinthine or turpentine.] flows for a considerable period: these are the loftiest and straightest of all the trees. The fir is preferred for making the masts and sailyards of ships, on account of its comparative lightness. It is a common feature with these trees, in common with the pine, to have four rows of veins running along the wood, or else two, or sometimes only one. The heart [“Ad fabrorum intestina opera medulla sectilis.” This passage is probably corrupt.] of these trees is peculiarly well adapted for joiners’ work, and the best wood of all is that which has four layers of veins, it being softer than the rest: men of experience in these matters can instantly form a judgment of the quality from the bark. That part in the fir which is nearest to the ground is free from knots: when soaked in river water in the way we have already mentioned, [In c..] and then barked, the wood of this part is known [With reference to the fir, namely.] as sappinus; while that of the upper part, which is harder and knotty, goes by the name of “fusterna.” In trees, the side which looks towards the north-east is the most robust, and it is universally the case, that those which grow in moist and damp localities are of inferior quality, while in those which grow in warm and sunny spots, the wood is more compact and durable; hence it is, that at Rome the fir is preferred that grows on the shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea to that of the shores of the Adriatic.

There are also considerable differences in the qualities of these trees according to the country of their growth: the most esteemed are those of the Alps and the Apennines; in Gaul, those of Jura [B. iii. c. 5.] and Mount Vogesus; those also of Corsica, Bithynia, Pontus, and Macedonia; while the firs of Ænea [B. iv. c. 3.] and Arcadia are of inferior quality. Those, however, of Parnassus and Eubœa are the worst of all, the trees being branchy and knotted, and the wood very apt to rot. As for the cedar, those of Crete, Africa, and Syria are the most esteemed. Wood, if well rubbed with oil of cedar, is proof against wood-worm and decay. The juniper, too, has the same [An additional proof, perhaps, that the cedar of the ancients is only one of the junipers, and that, as Fée says, they were not acquainted with the real cedar.] virtues as the cedar; in Spain it grows to a very considerable size, in the territory of the Vaccæi [B. iii. c. 4.] more particularly: the heart of this tree, too, is universally more firm and solid than cedar even. A general fault in all wood is that known as cross-grain, which is formed by contortions of the knots and veins. [“Spiras.” It seems to have been the opinion of the ancients that the internal knots of the wood are formed spirally. Such is not the fact, as they consist of independent layers.] In the wood of some trees there are to be found knurs, [Centra.] like those in marble; these knurs are remarkably hard, and offer a resistance like that of a nail, to the great injury of the saw: in some cases, also, they are formed accidentally, from either a stone, or the branch of another tree lodging there, and being absorbed in the body of the tree.

In the Forum at Megara there long stood a wild olive upon which warriors who had distinguished themselves by their martial powers had been in the habit of suspending their arms. In the lapse of time the bark of this tree had closed, and quite concealed these arms from view. Upon it, however, depended the fate of the city; for it had been announced by an oracle, that when a tree there should bring forth arms, the fall of the city would be close at hand: and such, in fact, was the result, when the tree was cut down and greaves and helmets were found within the wood. [He takes this account from Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. v. c. 3.] It is said that stones found under these circumstances have the property of preventing abortion.

(40.) It is generally thought that the largest [The greatest height, Fée says, of any tree known, is that of the palm, known as ceroxylon; it sometimes attains a height of 250 feet. Adanson speaks of the baobab as being 90 feet in circumference.] tree that has ever been seen, was the one that was exhibited at Rome, by Tiberius Cæsar, as an object of curiosity, upon the bridge of the Naumachia previously mentioned. [In c..] It had been brought thither along with other timber, and was preserved till the construction of the amphitheatre of the Emperor Nero: [See B. xix. c. 6.] it was a log of larch, one hundred and twenty feet long, and of an uniform thickness of a couple of feet. From this fact we can form an estimate of the original height of the tree; indeed, measured from top to bottom it must have been originally of a length that is almost incredible. In our own time, too, in the porticos of the Septa, [A spot enclosed in the Campus Martius, for the resort of the people during the Comitia, and when giving their votes.] there was a log which had been left there by M. Agrippa, as being equally an object of curiosity, having been found too large to be used in the building of the vote office [“Diribitorium.” This was the place, probably, where the diribitores distributed to the citizens the tabellæ, with which they voted in the Comitia, or else, as Wunder thinks, divided the votes, acting as “tellers,” in the modern phrase.] there: it was twenty feet shorter than the one previously mentioned, and a foot-and-a-half in thickness. There was a fir, too, that was particularly admired, when it formed the mast of the ship, which brought from Egypt, by order of the Emperor Caius, [Caligula.] the obelisk [B. xxxvi. c. 14.] that was erected in the Vaticanian Circus, with the four blocks of stone intended for its base. It is beyond all doubt that there has been seen nothing on the sea more wonderful than this ship: one hundred and twenty thousand modii of lentils formed its ballast; and the length of it took up the greater part of the left side of the harbour at Ostia. It was sunk at that spot by order of the Emperor Claudius, three moles, each as high as a tower, being built upon it; they were constructed with cement [See B. xxxvi. c. 14. This was a mortar made of volcanic ashes, which hardened under water. It is now known as Pozzuolane.] which the same vessel had conveyed from Puteoli. It took the arms of four men to span the girth of this tree, and we not unfrequently hear of the price of masts for such purposes, as being eighty thousand sesterces or more: rafts, too, of this wood are sometimes put together, the value of which is forty thousand. In Egypt and Syria, it is said, the kings, for want of fir, used to employ cedar [The Pinus cedrus of Linnæus.] for building their ships: the largest cedar that we find mentioned is said to have come from Cyprus, where it was cut to form the mast of a galley of eleven tiers of oars that belonged to Demetrius: it was one hundred and thirty feet in length, and took three men to span its girth. The pirates of Germany navigate their seas in vessels formed of a single tree hollowed [The canoes were formed probably of the fir.] out: some of these will hold as many as thirty men.

Of all woods, the most compact, and consequently the heaviest, are the ebony and the box, both of them of a slender make. Neither of these woods will float in water, nor, indeed, will that of the cork tree, if the bark is removed; the same is the case, too, with the wood of the larch. Of the other woods, the driest is that of the tree known at Rome as the lotus, [The Celtis australis of Linnæus.] and next, that of the robur, when the white sap has been removed. The wood of the robur is dark, and that of the cytisus [See B. xiii. c..] still more so, approaching, in fact, the nearest of all to the colour of ebony; though there are not wanting writers who assert that the wood of the Syrian terebinth is darker. [This, Fée says, is not the case, if the Syrian terebinth is the same as the Pistacia terebinthus of Linnæus.] An artist of the name of Thericles is highly spoken of for his skill in turning goblets from the wood of the terebinth: and, indeed, that fact is a proof of the goodness of the wood. Terebinth is the only wood that requires to be rubbed with oil, and is improved thereby. Its colour is imitated remarkably well with the walnut and the wild pear, which have its peculiar tint imparted to them by being boiled in colouring liquid. The wood of all the trees of which we have here made mention is firm and compact. Next after them comes the cornel, although it can hardly be looked upon as timber, in consequence of its remarkable slimness; the wood of it, in fact, is used for hardly any other purpose than the spokes of wheels, or else for making wedges for splitting wood, and pins or bolts, which have all the hardness of those of iron. Besides these, there are the holm-oak, the wild and the cultivated olive, the chesnut, the yoke-elm, and the poplar. This last is mottled similarly to the maple, and would be used for joiners’ work if wood could be good for anything when the branches are so often lopped: that acting upon the tree as a sort of castration, and depriving it of its strength. In addition to these facts, most of these trees, but the robur more particularly, are so extremely hard, that it is quite impossible to bore the wood till it has been soaked in water; and even then, a nail once driven home cannot be drawn out again. On the other hand, a nail has no [This is not the case; a nail has a firm hold in all resinous woods.] hold in cedar. The wood of the lime is the softest of all, and, as it would appear, the hottest by nature; a proof of this, they say, is the fact that it will turn the edge of the adze sooner than any other wood. [This is evidently a puerile absurdity: but it is borrowed from Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. v. c. 4.] In the number, also, of the trees that are hot by nature, are the mulberry, the laurel, the ivy, and all those woods from which fire is kindled by attrition.

Chap. 77.—Methods of Obtaining Fire from Wood.

This is a method [The savages of North America, and, indeed, of all parts of the globe, seem to have been acquainted with this method of kindling fire from the very earliest times.] which has been employed by the outposts of armies, and by shepherds, on occasions when there has not been a stone at hand to strike fire with. Two pieces of wood are rubbed briskly together, and the friction soon sets them on fire; which is caught on dry and inflammable substances, funguses and leaves being found to ignite the most readily. There is nothing superior to the wood of the ivy for rubbing against, or to that of the laurel for rubbing with. A species of wild vine, [See B. xxiv. c. 49. The Viticella, belonging to the genus clematis.] too—not the same as the labrusca—which climbs up other trees like the ivy, is highly approved of. The coldest [This unfounded notion is borrowed from Theophrastus, B. v. c. 4.] woods of all are those of the aquatic trees; but they are the most flexible also, and for that reason the best adapted for the construction of bucklers. On an incision being made in them, they will contract immediately, and so close up their wounds, at the same time rendering it more difficult for the iron to penetrate: in the number of these woods are the fig, the willow, the lime, the birch, the elder, and both varieties of the poplar.

The lightest of all these woods, and consequently the most useful, are the fig and the willow. They are all of them employed, however, in the manufacture of baskets and other utensils of wicker-work; while, at the same time, they possess a degree of whiteness and hardness which render them very well adapted for carving. The plane has considerable flexibility, but it is moist and slimy like the alder. The elm, too, the ash, the mulberry, and the cherry, are flexible, but of a drier nature; the wood, however, is more weighty. The elm is the best of all for retaining its natural toughness, and hence it is more particularly employed for socket beams for hinges, and cases for the pannelling of doors, being proof against warping. It is requisite, however, that the beam to receive the hinge should be inverted when set up, the top of the tree answering to the lower hinge, the root to the upper. The wood of the palm and the cork-tree is soft, while that of the apple and the pear is compact. Such, however, is not the case with the maple, its wood being brittle, as, in fact, all veined woods are. In every kind of tree, the varieties in the wood are still more augmented by the wild trees and the males. The wood, too, of the barren tree is more solid than that of the fruit-bearing ones, except in those species in which the male trees [In the modern botanical sense of the word, the male trees do not bear at all.] bear fruit, the cypress and the cornel, for instance.

Chap. 78.—Trees Which Are Proof Against Decay: Trees Which Never Split.

The following trees are proof against decay and the otherwise injurious effects of age—the cypress, the cedar, the ebony, the lotus, the box, the yew, the juniper, and both the wild and cultivated olive. Among the others, the larch, the robur, the cork-tree, the chesnut, and the walnut are also remarkably durable. The cedar, cypress, olive, and box are never known to split or crack spontaneously.

Chap. 79.—Historical Facts Connected with the Durability of Wood.

Of all the woods, the ebony, the cypress, and the cedar are considered to be the most durable, a good proof of which is to be seen in the timber of which the Temple of Diana at Ephesus is built: it being now four hundred years since it was erected, at the joint expense of the whole of Asia; [Asia Minor, namely. See B. xxxv. c. 21.] and, what is a well-known fact, the roof is wholly constructed of planks of cedar. As to the statue of the goddess, there is some doubt of what wood it is made; all the writers say that it is ebony, with the exception of Mucianus, who was three times consul, one of the very latest among the writers that have seen it; he declares that it is made of the wood of the vine, and that it has never been changed all the seven times that the temple has been rebuilt. He says, too, that it was Endæus who made choice of this wood, and even goes so far as to mention the artist’s name, a thing that really surprises me very much, seeing that he attributes to it an antiquity that dates before the times of Father Liber, and of Minerva even. He states, also, that, by the aid of numerous apertures, it is soaked with nard, in order that the moist nature of that drug may preserve the wood and keep the seams [The junctures where the pieces of wood are united by glue. This is to be observed very easily in the greater part of the oaken statuary that is so plentiful in the churches of Belgium.] close together: I am rather surprised, however, that there should be any seams in the statue, considering the very moderate size it is. He informs us, also, that the doors are made of cypress, and that the wood, which has now lasted very nearly four hundred years, has all the appearance of new. [Cypress is perhaps the most lasting of all woods.] It is worthy of remark, too, that the wood of these doors, after the pieces had been glued together, was left to season four years before they were put up: cypress was made choice of from the circumstance that it is the only kind of wood that maintains its polish to all future time.

And have we not the statue of Vejovis, [One of the earliest appellations, probably, of Jupiter among the Romans. See Ovid’s Fasti, B. iii. l. 445, et seq.] also, made of cypress, still preserved in the Capitol, where it was consecrated in the year of the City 661? The Temple of Apollo, too, at Utica, is equally celebrated: there we may see beams of cedar still in existence, and in just the same condition in which they were when erected at the first building of that city, eleven hundred and seventy-eight years ago. At Saguntum, too, in Spain, there is a temple of Diana, which was brought thither by the original founders of the place, from the island of Zacynthus, in the year 200 before the taking of Troy, Bocchus says—It is preserved beneath the town, they say. Hannibal, being induced thereto by feelings of religious veneration, spared this temple, and its beams, made of juniper, are still in existence at this very day. But the most memorable instance of all is that of the temple which was dedicated to the same goddess at Aulis, several ages before the Trojan War: of what wood, however, it was originally built is a fact that has been long lost in oblivion. Speaking in general terms, we may say that those woods are of the greatest durability which are the most odoriferous. [This is correct. Their resin defends them from the action of the air, from damp, and the attacks of noxious insects.]

Next to those woods of which we have just spoken, that of the mulberry is held in the highest degree of esteem, and it will even turn black when old. There are some trees, again, that are more durable than others, when employed for certain purposes. The wood of the elm lasts the best in the open air, that of the robur when buried in the ground, and that of the quercus when exposed to the action of water: indeed, the wood of this last, if employed in works above ground, is apt to split and warp. The wood of the larch thrives best in the midst of moisture; the same is the case, too, with that of the black alder. The wood of the robur spoils by exposure to the action of sea-water. The beech and the walnut are far from disapproved of for constructions under water, and, in fact, these are the principal woods, too, that are used for works under ground: the same is the case, also, with the juniper; which is equally serviceable when exposed to the atmosphere. The woods of the beech and the cerrus [A variety of the oak. See c. of this Book.] very quickly deteriorate, and that of the æsculus will not withstand the action of water. On the other hand, the alder, when driven into the ground in marshy localities, is of everlasting duration, and able to support the very heaviest weights. The wood of the cherry is strong, while those of the elm and the ash are pliable, though apt to warp: these last will still retain their flexibility, and be less liable to warp, if the wood is left to stand and dry upon the trunk after the pith has been cut around. [As mentioned at the end of c..] It is said that the larch, when used for sea-going ships, is liable to the attacks [See B. xi. c..] of the teredo, as, in fact, all the woods are, with the exception of the wild and cultivated olive. It is a fact, too, that there are some woods that are more liable to spoil in the sea, and others in the ground.