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HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

GRAY  HERBARIUM 


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in  2017  with  funding  from 
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JUH  1 2 1996 


gray  herbarium 


amddia 

Volume  56  Number  1 1996 

Arnoldia  (ISBN  004-2633;  USPS  866-100)  is 
published  quarterly  by  the  Arnold  Arboretum  of 
Harvard  University.  Second-class  postage  paid  at 
Boston,  Massachusetts. 

Subscriptions  are  $20.00  per  calendar  year  domestic, 
$25.00  foreign,  payable  in  advance.  Single  copies  of 
this  issue  are  $10.00;  copies  of  earlier  issues  are 
$5.00.  All  remittances  must  be  in  U.S.  dollars,  by 
check  drawn  on  a U.S.  bank,  or  by  international 
money  order.  Send  orders,  remittances,  change-of- 
address  notices,  and  all  other  subscription-related 
communications  to:  Circulation  Manager,  Arnoldia, 
The  Arnold  Arboretum,  125  Arborway,  Jamaica  Plain, 
MA  02130-3519.  Telephone  617/524-1718 

Postmaster:  Send  address  changes  to 
Arnoldia 

The  Arnold  Arboretum 
125  Arborway 

Jamaica  Plain,  MA  02130-3519 

Karen  Madsen,  Editor 

Editorial  Committee 
Phyllis  Andersen 
Robert  E.  Cook 
Peter  Del  Tredici 
Gary  Roller 
Richard  Schulhof 
Stephen  A.  Spongberg 

Arnoldia  is  set  in  Trump  Mediaeval  typeface. 

Copyright  © 1996.  The  President  and  Fellows  of 
Harvard  College 


Page 

2 Cornelian  Cherry:  From  the  Shores  of 
Ancient  Greece 
Lee  Reich 

8 Science  and  Serendipity:  The  Lady's 
Slipper  Project 
Richard  Primack 

15  When  the  Roots  Go  Round  and  Round 
Gary  W.  Watson  and  Sandra  Clark 

22  Nature's  Relentless  Onslaught,  Redux 
Todd  Forrest 

25  Would  a Lilac  by  Any  Other  Name  Smell 
So  Sweet?  A Search  for  Fragrance 
John  Alexander  III 

29  Art  and  Nature  in  a Garden:  Book  Review 
Phyllis  Andersen 

Front  cover:  The  Beauty  of  Moscow  lilac,  Syringa 
vulgaris  'Krasavitska  Moskova',  in  May  flower  on 
Bussey  Hill  Road.  Photograph  hy  Peter  Del  Tredici. 

Inside  front  cover:  The  flower  of  the  pink  lady's 
slipper  orchid,  Cypripedium  acaule.  Photograph  by 
Mark  Primack. 

Inside  back  cover:  The  Cottonwood  Vista  (Populus 
monilifera)  in  the  "wild  garden"  at  Gwinn,  on  Lake 
Erie  near  Cleveland,  ca.  1930.  Photograph  courtesy  of 
Gwinn  Archives. 

Back  cover:  Visitors  to  the  lilac  display,  spring  1908. 
Photograph  by  T.  E.  Marr. 


Cornelian  Cherry 

From  the  Shores  of  Ancient  Greece 


Lee  Reich 


In  late  March  at  the 
Arnold  Arboretum  the 
signs  of  spring  are  few 
and  subtle.  Cornus  mas 
is  one  of  the  first  woody 
plants  to  bring  color 
back  to  the  landscape. 

A first-class  ornamental, 
it  offers  a graceful  habit, 
attractively  mottled  bark, 
soft  yellow  flowers, 
and — not  least — fruits. 

One  summer  day  as  I happened 
upon  and  ate  cornelian 
cherries  from  a tree  in  New 
York  City's  Central  Park, 

I had  to  assure  a concerned 
passerby  that  I was  not  experi- 
menting with  a possibly  poi- 
sonous new  food.  Instead,  I was 
partaking  of  a fruit  that  has 
been  enjoyed  by  humankind  for 
the  past  seven  thousand  years. 
At  a site  in  northern  Greece, 
early  Neolithic  peoples  left 
remains  of  meals  that  included 
cornelian  cherry  along  with 
einkorn  wheat,  barley,  lentils, 
and  peas. 

Cornelian  cherry  (Cornus 
mas)  was  well  known  to  the 
ancient  Greeks  and  Romans, 
and  references  to  the  plant 
abound  in  their  literature. 
Speaking  of  the  Golden  Age  in 


Cornus  mas  in  fruit,  drawn  by  V.  Arlein. 


Cornelian  Cherry  3 


Metamorphosis,  Ovid  wrote: 

And  Earth,  untroubled, 

Unharried  by  hoe  or  plowshare,  brought  forth  all 
That  men  had  need  for,  and  those  men  were  happy 
Gathering  berries  from  the  mountain  sides. 

Cornel  cherries,  or  blackcaps,  and  edible  acorns. 

The  plant  was  grown  in  monastery  gardens 
of  continental  Europe  through  the  Middle 
Ages  and  was  introduced  to  Britain  about  the 
sixteenth  century.  The  great  herbalist  Gerard 
wrote  in  1597  that  "there  be  sundry  trees  of  the 
cornel  in  the  gardens  of  such  as  love  rare  and 
dainty  plants,  whereof  I have  a tree  or  two  in  my 
garden."  By  the  eighteenth  century,  the  plant 
was  common  in  English  gardens,  where  it  was 
grown  for  its  fruits,  sometimes  called  cornel 
plums. 

The  fruit  was  familar  enough  to  be  found  in 
European  markets  even  up  to  the  end  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Cornelian  cherries  were  es- 
pecially popular  in  France  and  in  Germany,  and 
the  fruit  was  reputedly  a favorite  with  children. 

Cornelian  cherry  is  native  to  regions  of  east- 
ern Europe  and  western  Asia,  and  in  certain 
parts  of  these  regions  it  is  appreciated  for  its 
fruit  even  today.  Baskets  of  kizilcik,  as  the 
Turks  call  the  fruit,  are  found  in  markets  in 
Istanbul.  Cornelian  cherry  is  a backyard  tree  in 
Moldavia,  Caucasia,  Crimea,  and  the  Ukraine. 
Although  it  is  not  native  to  the  Ukraine,  the 
plant  reached  that  region  about  nine  centuries 
ago  and  became  established  in  monastery  gar- 
dens. A former  monastery  garden  (now  a botani- 
cal garden)  near  Kiev  has  trees  150  to  200  years 
old  that  still  bear  regular  crops  of  fruit.  In  spite 
of  the  long  history  of  use  in  some  regions  of  the 
world,  and  the  recognition  of  superior  fruiting 
types,  just  about  all  cornelian  cherry  plants  that 
are  cultivated  are  from  seedlings  rather  than 
from  more  reliable  clones. 

Over  most  of  Europe  and  North  America  to- 
day, cornelian  cherry  is  admired  solely  (for  no 
apparent  reason)  as  an  ornamental  plant.  Even 
so,  the  bright  fruits  do  not  go  unnoticed  as  they 
festoon  the  tree  in  summer.  Fruits  generally  are 


cherry-like  in  size  and  appearance:  oval,  fire- 
engine  red,  with  a single,  elongated  stone.  Even 
the  flavor  is  akin  to  that  of  a cherry,  a tart 
cherry,  somewhat  austere  when  the  fruit  first 
colors,  but  developing  sweetness  and  aroma 
with  full  ripeness. 

Botanically,  cornelian  cherry  is  a species  of 
dogwood,  unrelated  to  grocers'  cherries.  The 
word  "cornelian"  refers  to  the  similarity  in 
color  of  the  fruit  to  cornelian  (or  carnelian) 
quartz,  which  has  a waxy  lustre  and  a deep  red, 
reddish-white,  or  flesh  red  color.  [Carnis  is  Eatin 
for  flesh.) 

Plant  Description 

Cornelian  cherry  grows  to  a maximum  height  of 
about  twenty-five  feet,  becoming  a large  shrub 
or  an  oval-headed  tree,  usually  branching  near 
the  ground.  In  full  sun  the  branches  are  largely 
upright,  whereas  in  shade  the  branches  spread 
wide,  as  if  to  embrace  the  limited  light  avail- 
able. Though  the  cornelian  cherry  never  grows 
large,  it  is  a long-lived  plant  that  produces  bush- 
els of  fruit  on  into  old  age.  In  Arboretum  and 
Fruticetum,  John  Claudius  Eoudon  wrote  that 
during  travels  in  Germany  in  1828,  his  party: 

stopped  at  the  gardens  of  the  ancient  Chateau  of 
Maskirch;  and  in  a small  enclosure  close  to  the 
chateau,  we  found  a labyrinth,  the  hedge  of 
which  consisted  entirely  of  Cornus  mas,  with 
standard  trees  of  the  same  species  at  regular  dis- 
tances, which  were  at  that  time  bearing  ripe 
fruit,  which  we  tasted,  and  found  of  very  good 
flavour.  Later  in  the  same  year,  we  were  shown, 
in  the  grounds  of  the  Castle  of  Heidelberg,  the 
famous  cornelian  cherry  trees  which  were 
planted  there  in  1650. 

Cornelian  cherry  has  the  pattern  of  leaf  at- 
tachment and  leaf  venation  characteristic  of 
other  members  of  the  dogwood  genus.  Leaves 
oppose  each  other  at  each  node,  in  contrast  to 
most  other  trees,  on  which  leaves  alternate 
along  the  stem.  The  major  veins  of  a dogwood 
leaf  trace  out  almost  to  the  leaf  margin,  then 
join  together  and  parallel  the  margin  to  the  leaf's 
apex.  The  leaves  are  satiny  green  in  summer, 
often  turning  mahogany  red  in  the  fall.  (Fall  leaf 
color  is  not  wholly  reliable,  however,  for  with 


RACZ  DEBHECZY 


Cornus  mas  'Flava'  can  he  seen  in  its  mature  form  at  the  Arnold  Arboretum  near  Meadow  Road.  This 
multistemmed  specimen  stands  twenty  feet  high  with  a spread  of  equal  dimensions. 


some  clones  and  in  some  climates — probably 
warmer  parts  of  the  plant's  range — leaves  even- 
tually drop  to  the  ground  while  still  green.) 

In  winter,  the  plant  is  notable  from  a distance 
for  its  rounded  form.  Step  a bit  closer  to  appre- 
ciate the  bark,  flaking  off  in  muted  shades  of  tan 
and  gray.  And  get  right  up  to  the  plant  to  see  the 
distinctive  flower  huds,  perched  atop  short 


stalks  at  the  nodes  of  branches  that  grew  the 
previous  season,  and  on  spurs  of  older  wood. 

Flowers  appear  on  leafless  branches  early  in 
the  season,  blooming  with  the  "first  breath  of 
west  wind"  (in  Italy,  at  least,  according  to  Pliny, 
writing  in  the  first  century  A.D.)  or  just  before 
forsythia.  Individual  flowers  are  tiny,  but  are 
born  in  such  profusion  that  the  hare  branches 


Cornelian  Cherry  5 


appear  swathed  in  a yellow  veil. 

The  effect  is  all  the  more  strik- 
ing against  a backdrop  of  a dark 
wall  or  evergreen  plant.  Despite 
the  early  bloom,  fruit  production 
rarely  suffers  since  the  blooms 
have  an  extended  flowering 
period  and  an  inherent  tolerance 
for  some  frost.  The  flowers  may 
not  be  completely  self-fertilizing, 
because  cross-pollination  some- 
times increases  fruit  production. 

The  names  of  the  few  cultivars 
of  cornelian  cherry  that  have 
been  available  from  nurseries 
reflect  the  plant's  use  as  an 
ornamental  rather  than  as  a 
comestible.  'Golden  Glory'  is  an 
upright,  columnar  plant  with  es- 
pecially dark  green  leaves,  and 
'Nana'  is  a cultivar  diminutive 
in  stature  and  leaf  size.  The  var- 
iegated leaves  of  'Elegantissima' 
and  'Variegata'  make  for  brighter 
looking  plants  throughout  the 
summer.  Occasional  leaves  of 
'Elegantissima'  are  completely 
yellow  or  tinged  with  pink.  The 
leaves  of  'Variegata'  have  irregu- 
lar, creamy  white  margins. 

As  mentioned  previously,  cornelian  cherry 
fruit  has  always  been  considered  ornamental. 
'Macrocarpa'  is  notable  for  its  large  fruit  and 
'Alba'  for  its  white  fruit.  The  fruit  of  'Flava'  is 
large  and  yellow,  and  a whit  sweeter  than  those 
of  most  other  cultivars.  Ripening  occurs  from 
summer  to  fall  depending  on  the  clone. 

If  you  were  to  wander  into  a Macedonian  or 
Bulgarian  forest,  the  wild  cornelian  cherry  trees 
there  would  not  all  be  bearing  fruits  resembling 
the  common  cherry.  Within  the  wild  population 
are  plants  bearing  fruits  that  are  barrel-shaped  or 
pear-shaped  and  some  with  fruits  over  an  inch 
long.  In  fruit  color,  the  spectrum  runs  from 
cream  to  yellow,  orange,  and  fire-engine  red  to  a 
dark  red-violet,  and  almost  black.  Were  you  to 
taste  fruits  from  a number  of  trees,  you  would 
find  similar  variations  in  flavor.  The  sugar  con- 
tent of  fruits  ranges  from  four  to  twelve  percent. 


The  developing  fruit  of  Cornus  mas  ‘Flava’  ripens  and  turns  yellow  at 
the  Arnold  Arboretum  in  fall. 


and  acidity  ranges  from  one  to  four  percent. 
Vitamin  C concentration  in  cornelian  cherries 
commonly  averages  twice  that  of  oranges. 

If  qualities  such  as  large-size  fruit  and  a con- 
genial blend  of  sweetness  and  acidity  could 
be  bred  into  a single  plant,  the  result  would  be 
a highly  ornamental  plant  bearing  especially 
delectable  fruit.  The  average  seedling  produces 
acceptable  fruits,  and  for  over  two  decades 
Russians  have  been  selecting  clones  with  supe- 
rior fruits.  Since  the  recent  breakup  of  the 
Soviet  Union,  some  of  the  cornelian  cherry 
varieties  that  were  selected  there  for  their 
fruits  have  become  available  here.  These 
include  'Helen',  'Pioneer',  'Red  Star',  and 
'Elegant',  all  bred  by  Svetlana  Klimenko  at  the 
Botanic  Garden  in  Kiev  and  available  in  this 
country  through  the  nursery  One  Green  World 
(telephone  503/651-3005). 


6 Arnoldia  1 996  Spring 


Cultivation 

Cornelian  cherry  transplants  easily  and  once 
established  grows  at  a moderate  rate.  Cal- 
cereous  soils  are  particularly  suitable,  though 
the  plant  in  fact  is  not  choosy  about  soil,  toler- 
ating even  those  that  are  somewhat  dry.  For  best 
fruiting,  plants  need  full  sun,  or  almost  so.  Cor- 
nelian cherry  will  survive  in  shade  but  will  not 
yield  well. 

Grow  cornelian  cherry  as  a specimen  tree  or 
shrub,  or  even  as  a large,  sheared  hedge.  Space 
specimen  plants  twenty  to  twenty-five  feet  from 
other  trees  or  shrubs.  Space  plants  twelve  feet 
apart  for  a hedge. 

Cornelian  cherry  will  grow  in  USDA  hardi- 
ness zones  4 through  8,  but  languishes  some- 
what in  the  southern  part  of  this  range.  At  its 
extreme  northern  limit,  fruiting  is  uncertain, 
since  the  flower  buds  are  hardy  only  to  the 
colder  portions  of  zone  5. 

Cornelian  cherry  is  a plant  from  which  you 
can  expect  annual  harvests  with  little  or  no 
pruning  or  spraying.  It  is  rarely  subiect  to  in- 
sects or  disease,  but  do  expect  some  competi- 
tion from  birds  and  squirrels  for  the  fruit. 

Propagation 

Cornelian  cherries  are  usually  propagated  from 
seed.  This  is  unfortunate  because  seedlings  pro- 
duce fruit  of  variable  quality  and  must  be  at 
least  a half-dozen  years  old — sometimes  into 
their  teens — before  commencing  to  bear  fruit. 
Seed  germination  is  usually  delayed  until  the 
second  season,  though  this  defect  can  be  over- 
come by  artificially  subjecting  the  seeds  to 
warmth  and  moisture  for  four  months  prior  to  a 
one-  to  four-month  period  of  cool,  moist  strati- 
fication. Nicking  the  seed  coat  should  suffice  in 
lieu  of  the  four-month,  warm,  moist  treatment. 

Do  not  be  disappointed  if  no  fruits  set  when 
seedlings  finally  do  begin  to  flower.  Ancient 
writers  referred  to  the  cornelian  cherry  as  the 
"male  cornel"  because  those  first  flowers  are 
male.  This  characteristic  is  the  source  of  the 
specific  epithet  mas,  meaning  male  in  Latin. 
(The  "female  cornel"  of  the  ancients  was  C. 
sanguined,  a shrubby,  precocious  species  whose 
fruit  is  neither  prominent  nor  palatable.)  With 


time,  cornelian  cherry  seedlings  will  produce 
perfect  flowers. 

If  only  cornelian  cherry  cuttings  rooted  as 
easily  in  reality  as  in  legend.  Plutarch  (in  Life  of 
Romulus]  wrote  that 

Romulus  once  to  try  his  strength  threw  a dart 
from  the  Aventine  Mount,  the  staff  of  which 
was  made  of  cornel,  which  struck  so  deep  into 
the  ground,  that  no  one  of  many  that  tried 
could  pluck  it  out,  and  the  soil  being  fertile,  gave 
nourishment  to  the  wood,  which  sent  forth 
branches,  and  produced  a cornel  stock  of  consid- 
erable bigness. 

Ovid's  version  (in  Metamorphosis]  is  even 
more  fantastic:  "No  less  amazed  was  Romulus 
when  he  saw  the  spear  he  planted  suddenly  put 
forth  leaves."  With  optimum  conditions  fifty 
percent  of  softwood  cuttings  might  take  root. 

The  best  time  to  take  softwood  cuttings  is  in 
late  July  or  early  August.  Make  each  cutting 
about  ten  inches  long  with  all  but  the  top  two 
leaves  removed,  and  maintain  partial  shade  and 
high  humidity,  preferably  with  mist.  Rooting 
hormones  (a  modern  horticultural  aid  unavail- 
able to  Romulus)  greatly  facilitate  rooting  of 
both  hardwood  and  softwood  cornelian  cherry 
cuttings.  Use  IBA  in  talc,  at  concentrations  in 
the  range  of  0.3  to  0.8  percent.  The  percentage  of 
cuttings  that  root  varies  from  clone  to  clone — 
softwood  cuttings  of  the  cultivar  'Flava'  rooted 
one-hundred  percent  under  ideal  conditions. 

Opinions  differ  as  to  the  ease  with  which  cor- 
nelian cherry  propagates  by  root  cuttings  and 
layering,  but  no  matter,  for  the  easiest  method 
to  propagate  a superior  clone  is  by  any  common 
method  of  grafting.  Use  seedlings  as  rootstocks 
and  graft  low.  Because  cornelian  cherry 
branches  low  to  the  ground,  take  care  that  all 
branches  on  a grafted  plant  arise  from  the  scion 
rather  than  the  rootstock. 

Harvest  and  Use 

Cornelian  cherries  ripen  from  summer  through 
fall,  the  time  varying  from  clone  to  clone.  Aver- 
age yield  from  a single  tree  typically  lies  in  the 
range  of  thirty  to  seventy  pounds  of  fruit, 
though  there  are  trees  that  bear  over  two  hun- 
dred pounds  of  fruit. 


Cornelian  Cherry  1 


Fruits  from  a single  tree  ripen  over  an 
extended  harvest  period.  The  simplest  way  to 
harvest  in  quantity  is  to  periodically  give  the 
branches  a gentle  shake  once  the  fruit  has  col- 
ored, then  collect  fallen  fruit  from  the  ground. 
Ripe  fruits  hang  well  on  the  tree,  becoming  with 
time  more  concentrated  in  flavor  and  sweet- 
ness. Some  people  prefer  to  allow  harvested  fruit 
to  sit  at  room  temperature  for  a day  or  more,  in 
which  case  the  flavor  becomes  sweeter,  but 
more  sedate. 

A century  or  more  ago,  when  the  fruit  was 
popular  in  Britain,  it  was  rarely  eaten  out  of 
hand,  probably  because  better-tasting  clones 
were  unknown  there.  The  fruits  were  held  in 
high  esteem  for  the  delicious  tarts  they  made, 
and  shops  commonly  sold  rob  de  cornis,  a thick- 
ened, sweet  syrup  of  cornelian  cherry  fruits.  The 
juice  also  added  pizzazz  to  cider  and  perry. 

In  other  parts  of  Europe  where  cornelian 
cherry  is  still  eaten,  the  fruit  finds  a variety  of 
uses.  Since  ancient  times,  the  unripe  fruits  have 
been  pickled  as  olive  substitutes. 

Cornel-berries,  which  we  use  instead  of  olives  . . . 
should  be  picked  while  they  are  still  hard  and 
not  very  ripe;  they  must  not,  however,  be  too 
unripe.  They  should  then  be  dried  for  a day  in  the 
shade;  then  vinegar  and  must  boiled  down  to  half 
or  one-third  of  its  original  volume  should  be 
mixed  and  poured  in,  but  it  will  be  necessary  to 
add  some  salt,  so  that  no  worms  or  other  form  of 
animal  life  can  be  engendered  in  them,  but  the 
better  method  of  preservation  is  when  two  parts 
of  must  boiled  down  to  half  its  original  volume 
are  mixed  with  one  part  of  vinegar.  (Columella, 
On  Agriculture,  1st  century  A.D.) 

Cornelian  cherry  is  a favored  ingredient  of 
Turkish  serbert,  a fruit  drink  sold  in  stores  and 
from  portable  containers  carried  like  knapsacks 
on  the  backs  of  street  vendors.  (Another  com- 
mon English  name  for  cornelian  cherry  is 
"sorbet,"  though  it  is  not  the  only  fruit  ever 
used  for  the  Turkish  serbert.)  In  the  Ukraine, 
cornelian  cherries  are  juiced,  then  bottled  com- 
mercially as  soft  drinks.  There,  the  fruits  are 
also  made  into  conserves,  fermented  into  wine, 
distilled  into  a liqueur,  and  dried. 


The  generic  epithet  Cornus  is  derived  from 
the  Latin  word  for  "horn,"  alluding  to  the  hard- 
ness of  the  wood.  Pliny  wrote  that  cornelian 
cherry  wood  was  used  for  making  "spokes  of 
wheels,  or  else  for  making  wedges  for  splitting 
wood,  and  pins  or  bolts,  which  have  all  the 
hardness  of  those  of  iron."  The  wood's  hardness 
was  also  put  to  more  menacing  use,  in  spears. 
From  the  many  gory  passages  relating  this  use 
by  ancient  writers,  the  following  lines  from 
Virgil's  Aeneid  serve  as  example: 

Winging  through  the  soft  air  the  Italian 

Cornel  shaft  sank  in,  deep  in  the  chest 

Stuck  there,  and  the  black  wound's  open  chasm 

Yielded  a foaming  wave  of  blood. 

Returning  to  beneficent  uses  of  cornelian 
cherry,  we  find  many  parts  of  the  cornelian 
cherry  plant  applied  in  folk  medicine.  The  fruit 
allegedly  is  beneficial  in  the  treatment  of  gout, 
anemia,  skin  diseases,  painful  joints,  and  dis- 
rupted metabolism.  Fruit,  leaves,  or  bark  have 
been  employed  for  gastrointestinal  disorders 
and  tuberculosis.  Used  in  a kind  of  contempo- 
rary folk  medicine,  Russians  report  that  the 
fruit  contains  components  that  leach  radioactiv- 
ity from  the  body. 

But  I digress — our  primary  interest  here  is 
with  the  gustatory  pleasure  afforded  by  the 
fruits,  especially  fresh  fruits  of  a superior  clone 
carried  straight  from  the  tree  to  the  mouth.  The 
fruit  is  as  worth  cultivating  today  as  it  was  three 
centuries  ago  when  John  Parkinson  wrote  of  the 
cornelian  cherry  (in  Paradisi  in  Sole],  that  "by 
reason  of  the  pleasantnesse  in  them  when  they 
are  ripe,  they  are  much  desired  . . . also  preferued 
[sic]  and  eaten,  both  for  rarity  and  delight  . . . 


Lee  Reich,  Ph.D.,  is  a horticultural  consultant  and  writer 
in  New  Paltz,  New  York.  While  working  as  a fruit 
researcher  for  the  USDA,  and  then  Cornell  University, 
he  became  interested  in  lesser  known  fruits,  an  interest 
that  resulted  in  his  1991  book,  Uncommon  Fruits 
Worthy  of  Attention:  A Gardener's  Guide,  from  which 
this  article  is  drawn. 


Science  and  Serendipity 
The  Pink  Lady's  Slipper  Project 

Richard  Primack 

What  is  the  cost  of  reproduction? 
An  important  hypothesis  is  put  to  the  test. 


Pink  Lady’s  Slipper  9 


The  study  of  plants  can  sometimes  lead  to  dis- 
coveries of  an  unexpected  nature.  For  over  a 
decade  now,  I have  been  investigating  the  repro- 
ductive biology  of  the  pink  lady's  slipper  orchid 
(Cypripedium  acaule).  When  I was  growing  up 
in  Boston  in  the  1950s  and  1960s,  my  mother 
would  point  out  the  occasional  pink  lady's  slip- 
per as  a special,  rare  plant  to  be  held  in  respect, 
and  I remember  feeling  almost  reverential 
toward  the  exquisite  flowers  when  I discovered 
them  on  hikes  as  a teenager.  Hikers  in  the  east- 
ern United  States  still  react  with  excitement 
when  they  encounter  the  plant  during  a late 
spring  excursion,  but  although  the  flowers  are 
beautiful  and  well  worth  seeking  out,  certainly 
they  are  no  longer  rare. 

The  idea  that  the  pink  lady's  slipper  is  endan- 
gered stems  from  events  earlier  in  this  century 
when  the  species  was  indeed  rare.  At  that  time 
gardeners  often  dug  up  wild  plants  to  transplant 
in  their  own  yards,  and  this  was  perceived  as  a 
primary  threat  to  the  species'  survival.  Media 
campaigns  to  protect  wildflowers  targeted  the 
pink  lady's  slipper,  and  the  campaigns  appear  to 
have  left  a lasting  impression  on  the  public. 

During  the  last  few  decades,  however,  the 
plant  has  achieved  a tremendous  increase  in 
numbers  in  New  England.  Woodland  areas  that 
once  had  a few  scattered  plants  now  boast  doz- 
ens, hundreds,  or  even  thousands.  In  some  areas 
of  Boston,  pink  lady's  slippers  have  become  the 
most  common  woodland  herb,  forming  dense 
populations.  Although  it  is  tempting  to  see  a 
simple  cause-and-effect  relationship  between 
the  preservation  campaign  and  the  new  abun- 
dance of  the  species,  the  truth  is  much  more 
complicated.  The  success  of  the  pink  lady's  slip- 
per might  also  be  explained  by  the  recovery  of 
its  previously  disturbed  habitat.  Much  of  the 
eastern  United  States  was  cleared  for  agriculture 
during  the  early  history  of  our  nation,  and  the 
landscape  has  only  gradually  returned  to  forest 
in  the  last  century.  It  may  be  that  the  specific 
growing  conditions  it  requires  were  not  present 
earlier  in  the  young  forest. 

One  of  the  missing  requirements  may  have 
been  the  species  of  soil  fungi  with  which  the 
orchid  has  a peculiar  obligate  relationship. 


These  fungi  form  extensive  networks  of  fila- 
ments in  the  soil  that  absorb  water  and  nutri- 
ents. When  an  orchid  seed  germinates,  the 
seedling  is  tended  by  the  fungus  filaments, 
which  provide  all  the  water,  minerals,  and 
carbohydrates  the  seedling  needs  to  survive.  In 
this  early  stage,  the  orchid  seedling  is  just  a 
small  blob  of  white  tissue  below  ground.  Only 
after  five  years  or  so  does  the  orchid  begin  to 
produce  its  first  green  leaves  above  ground.  As 
the  orchid  increases  in  size  over  subsequent 
years,  it  finally  becomes  photosynthetically 
self-sufficient.  At  this  point,  the  orchid  begins 
to  supply  the  fungi  with  excess  carbohydrates 
in  exchange  for  a continued  supply  of  water  and 
mineral  nutrients.  If  the  fungi  had  been  extir- 
pated from  the  soil  after  centuries  of  farming, 
then  the  orchid  would  not  be  present  until 
the  forest — and  the  fungi — had  become  firmly 
reestablished. 

Yet  another  unusual  characteristic  may  have 
limited  the  lady's  slipper's  ability  to  increase:  Its 
flowers  rarely  become  fruits.  The  reason  for  this 
peculiarity  is  that  the  flowers  contain  no  nectar 
to  attract  pollinators.  In  fact,  the  flowers  are 
mimic  flowers  that  depend  on  the  naivete  of 
bumblebees  and  other  large  insects  searching  for 
new  nectar  sources.  If  bees  visit  several  flowers 
in  a row  in  their  search  for  nectar,  they  may 
transfer  pollen  from  one  plant  to  the  stigma  of 
another  plant  in  the  process.  Once  this  happens, 
the  petals  droop  to  prevent  further  bee  visits, 
the  ovary  swells,  and  over  the  next  four  months 
a grape-sized  capsule  containing  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  seeds  develops.  In  the  fall,  the  tiny 
seeds  filter  out  of  slits  in  the  capsule  and  are 
carried  away  by  the  seasonal  breezes.  Unfortu- 
nately for  the  pink  lady's  slipper,  there  are  not 
enough  naive  bees  in  the  forests  of  New  Eng- 
land. As  a result,  most  orchid  flowers  remain 
unvisited,  even  in  large  populations.  In  a typical 
population,  only  one  or  two  percent  of  the  flow- 
ers develop  fruits.  Yet  because  of  the  large 
number  of  seeds  per  fruit,  the  populations 
can  increase  over  time  even  with  low  rates  of 
fruiting. 

Under  different  circumstances,  however,  the 
orchid  has  the  potential  for  prolific  reproduc- 


Cypripedium  acaule  (pink  lady’s  slipper  orchid)  rendered  in  pen  and  ink  by  Blanche  Ames  Ames  (1878-1969). 


RICHARD  PRIMACK 


10  Arnoldia  1996  Spring 


The  young  orchid  fruit  expands  rapidly  following 
pollination.  The  grape-sized  capsule  contains  tens  of 
thousands  of  seeds. 


tion.  When  flowers  are  artificially  pollinated  by 
researchers  and  volunteers,  the  rate  of  fruit  set 
can  easily  increase  to  ninety  percent.  In  1984,  1 
realized  that  this  property  made  the  pink  lady's 
slipper  orchid  an  ideal  subject  for  testing  an 
important  but  unproven  hypothesis:  namely, 
that  reproduction  exacts  a cost  from  plants  and 
animals.  Most  biologists  accept  the  idea  that 
each  organism  has  a finite  supply  of  resources 
available  for  use  in  growth,  survival,  and  repro- 
duction. Thus,  any  individual  organism  that 
devotes  a large  portion  of  its  resources  to  repro- 
duction will  have  a slower  growth  rate  and  a 
reduced  probability  of  survival  and  subsequent 
reproduction.  These  reductions  are  collectively 
termed  the  cost  of  reproduction.  The  hypothesis 
is  supported  by  observations  that  trees  grow 
slowly  in  years  when  they  fruit  heavily,  and  that 
pregnant  animals  lose  weight  and  suffer  higher 
mortality.  However,  a crucial  missing  element 
was  experimental  evidence:  if  individuals  were 


manipulated  to  increase  or  decrease  their  levels 
of  reproduction,  how  would  the  change  affect 
the  rate  of  growth  and  survival  in  a particular 
species? 

Because  the  orchid  readily  makes  fruits  when 
artificially  pollinated,  I decided  to  test  the 
hypothesis  using  large  natural  populations  in 
Massachusetts — at  the  Hammond  Woods  in 
Newton  and  the  Case  Estates  in  Weston.  With 
the  help  of  volunteers,  experimental  plants  at 
these  two  Boston-area  sites  were  hand  polli- 
nated, while  other  plants  in  the  populations 
were  left  untouched  as  controls.  Hand  pollina- 
tion of  the  pink  lady's  slipper  orchid  involves 
gently  spreading  open  and  bending  back  the 
petal  pouch  with  one  hand,  then  inserting  the 
index  finger  of  the  other  hand  into  the  resulting 
gap  between  the  pouch  and  stigmatic  column 
until  the  finger  contacts  the  sticky  yellow  pol- 
len mass.  If  one  does  this  just  right,  the  entire 
pollen  mass  sticks  to  the  finger  in  one  grainy 
clump.  At  the  next  flower,  the  process  is  begun 
in  the  same  way,  but  this  time  one  must  bend 
the  petal  pouch  back  further  to  expose  the 
stigma  surface.  The  pollen  mass  on  the  index 
finger  can  then  be  rubbed  onto  the  glistening 
green  stigma.  If  the  pollen  and  the  stigma  are  at 
the  right  stage  of  stickiness,  the  entire  stigma 
surface  will  be  coated  with  a covering  of  pollen. 

By  the  spring  of  1985  I was  eagerly  awaiting 
the  flowering  season  to  see  the  results  of  my 
experiment  of  the  previous  year.  To  my  surprise, 
I found  no  difference  between  the  control  and 
the  experimental  plants  at  the  Hammond 
Woods  site,  either  in  the  number  of  plants  flow- 
ering or  in  the  average  size  of  the  plants.  At  the 
Case  Estates  a few  more  control  plants  than 
experimental  plants  were  flowering  and  the 
experimental  plants  seemed  smaller,  but  the 
difference  was  not  substantial.  At  this  point  I 
had  a real  dilemma:  should  I write  up  the  results 
right  away,  boldly  announcing  that  there  was 
no  cost  of  reproduction  in  the  pink  lady's  slipper 
orchid?  Or  should  I continue  the  experiment  to 
see  if  the  cost  showed  up  after  a second  repro- 
ductive episode? 

Because  the  two  populations  seemed  to  be 
showing  somewhat  different  patterns,  I decided 
to  continue  the  experiment  using  a "press" 


Pink  Lady’s  Slipper  1 1 


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Hand  pollinating  required  physical  contortions  of  the  volunteers,  but  nonetheless  it  proved  to  be  one  of  the 
most  popular  aspects  of  the  proiect. 


design.  That  is,  every  experimental  plant  hand- 
pollinated  in  1984  was  pollinated  for  a second 
time  in  1985  and  was  thus  given  a chance  to 
make  a second  fruit.  The  hand  pollinations  were 
successful,  with  most  experimental  plants  mak- 
ing a second  fruit  hy  the  fall.  As  in  the  previous 
year,  the  control  plants  did  not  make  fruit.  By 
the  spring  of  1986,  the  results  proved  worth  the 
wait.  A tremendous  difference  in  plant  size 
appeared  between  the  experimental  plants  and 
the  control  plants,  particularly  at  the  Case 
Estates,  where  the  experimental  plants  had  lost 
twenty-five  percent  of  their  size  in  comparison 
with  the  control  plants  and  far  fewer  of  the 
experimental  plants  were  in  flower. 

The  results  were  striking,  but  I decided  to  put 
off  writing  up  the  results  for  publication  in  favor 
of  conducting  the  experimental  pollinations  one 
more  time.  By  1987,  after  the  experiment  had 
been  repeated  three  times  on  individual  plants, 
the  cost  of  reproduction  was  clearly  evident  at 


both  sites.  The  results  were  slightly  different, 
however,  due  in  part  to  a contrast  in  plant 
health  at  the  two  localities.  At  Hammond 
Woods,  the  control  plants  grew  larger  over  the 
course  of  the  study,  while  the  experimental 
plants  stayed  the  same  average  size.  At  the  Case 
Estates,  however,  a disease  turned  the  leaves 
black  every  summer  and  probably  killed  many 
plants  outright.  The  average  size  of  control 
plants  at  this  site  declined  over  the  years,  but 
the  experimental  plants  declined  in  size  more 
precipitously.  Clearly,  the  extra  cost  of  produc- 
ing fruits  added  to  the  stress  of  disease  had 
major  effects  on  the  plants. 

The  experiment  allowed  us  to  test  a related 
hypothesis  as  well.  Scientists  have  speculated 
that  plants  may  partially  offset  the  cost  of  pro- 
ducing fruit  by  increasing  their  photosynthetic 
rate,  thereby  capturing  more  light  energy.  In  this 
scenario,  perhaps  the  chlorophyll  might  process 
light  energy  more  rapidly,  or  the  stomates 


1 2 Arnoldia  1 996  Spring 


The  pollen  mass  sticking  to  the  index  finger  of  a 
young  volunteer  is  about  to  be  rubbed  onto  the 
stigma.  Hand  pollination  results  in  almost  every 
flower  becoming  a fruit. 


chamber  and  then  measuring  how  rapidly  the 
leaf  absorbs  carbon  dioxide  from  the  enclosed 
volume  of  air.  The  experiments  showed,  how- 
ever, that  the  rate  of  photosynthesis  did  not 
depend  on  physiological  changes  to  the  plant, 
such  as  fruiting  or  removal  of  one  of  its  two 
leaves,  but  did  vary  according  to  microenviron- 
mental differences.  Plants  in  full  sun,  whether 
control  or  experimental  plants,  have  higher  rates 
of  photosynthesis  than  plants  in  shady  areas. 

Four  years  into  the  fieldwork  I had  a good  story 
to  write  for  publication,  so  I enlisted  another  of 
my  graduate  students,  Pamela  Hall,  to  perform 
all  the  elaborate  statistical  calculations  needed 
to  demonstrate  the  exact  cost  of  reproduction. 
In  the  meantime,  we  continued  the  experiment, 
repeating  the  pollination  and  adding  a third  site 
at  Broadmoor  Audubon  Sanctuary  in  Natick, 
which  had  much  larger  and  apparently  older 
plants  than  the  other  sites.  Though  we  pub- 
lished our  initial  findings  in  1990,  I decided  to 
continue  the  study,  and  by  1994,  after  further 
analysis  by  a third  graduate  student,  Elizabeth 
Stacy,  we  had  found  several  intriguing  patterns. 
Of  the  control  plants,  which  had  never  been 
hand  pollinated,  73  percent  had  not  produced 
even  a single  fruit  over  the  entire  duration  of  the 


on  the  leaf  surface  might 
stay  open  wider  or  longer 
to  absorb  more  carbon 
dioxide.  Some  limited  labo- 
ratory evidence  supports 
this  idea,  but  we  decided — 
given  our  success  thus 
far — to  test  it  in  the  field. 
With  the  aid  of  an  infrared 
gas  analyzer,  my  former 
student  Miao  Shili  and  I 
examined  the  experimental 
and  control  plants  to  dis- 
cover if  the  experimental 
plants  were  absorbing  more 
carbon  dioxide  than  the 
control  plants — a sure  indi- 
cator of  higher  rates  of  pho- 
tosynthesis. The  analyzer 
works  by  enclosing  a living 
leaf  inside  a transparent 


To  measure  the  rate  of  carbon  dioxide  absorption,  a living  leaf  is  enclosed 
inside  the  transparent  chamber  of  an  infrared  gas  analyzer. 


RICHARD  PRIMACK 


Pink  Lady’s  slipper  13 


The  larger  plant,  on  the  left,  is  an  experimental  plant  that  never  made  fruits.  The  smaller  plant  is  an 
experimental  plant  that  has  made  many  fruits  and  has  become  exhausted. 


study,  whereas  every  experimental  plant  had 
produced  at  least  one  fruit.  At  the  Hammond 
Woods  and  Broadmoor,  50  percent  of  the  plants 
had  produced  five  or  more  fruits  over  the  years 
of  the  study.  At  the  Broadmoor  site,  three  of  the 
largest  experimental  plants  had  produced  thir- 
teen, fifteen,  and  seventeen  fruits  over  ten  years 
in  contrast  to  control  plants  with  no  fruit  at  all. 
At  each  site,  the  effects  of  fruit  production  were 
seen  in  the  lower  prohahility  of  flowering  and 
much  smaller  leaf  area  in  subsequent  years. 
However,  these  effects  peaked  three  to  seven 
years  after  the  start  of  the  experiment.  After  sev- 
eral successive  years  of  fruiting,  the  experimen- 
tal plants  seemed  exhausted  to  the  point  where 
many  were  very  small  and  unahle  to  flower.  The 
inability  to  flower,  however,  gave  the  plants  a 
rest,  which  after  a few  years  allowed  them  to 
recover  and  flower  again. 

By  the  summer  of  1995,  I felt  it  was  time  to 
wrap  up  this  project,  as  we  had  clearly  estab- 


lished the  cost  of  reproduction.  Through  the 
years,  I had  come  to  know  the  characteristics  of 
individual  plants,  almost  regarding  them  as  spe- 
cial summer  friends.  After  eleven  field  seasons, 
I leave  this  project  with  a great  sense  of  satisfac- 
tion: my  initial  love  for  and  curiosity  about  this 
beautiful  and  unique  wildflower  species  had 
blossomed  into  a full-scale  scientific  investiga- 
tion yielding  new  insights  into  the  natural  his- 
tory of  the  species. 

Select  Bibliography 

Primack,  R.,  and  P.  Hall.  1990.  Costs  of  reproduction  in 
the  pink  lady's  slipper  orchid:  a four-year 
experimental  study.  American  Naturalist  136: 
638-656. 

Primack,  R.,  M.  Shili,  and  K.  Becker.  1994.  Costs  of 
reproduction  in  the  pink  lady's  slipper  orchid 
(Cypripedium  acaule):  Defoliation,  increased 
fruit  production,  and  fire.  American  lournal  of 
Botany  83:  1083-1090. 


RICHARP  PRIMACK 


14  Ainoldia  1996  Spring 


Synge,  H.,  ed.  1981.  The  Biological  Aspects  of  Rare  Plant 
Conservation.  NY:  Wiley. 

Wells,  T.  C.  E.,  and  [.  H.  Willems,  eds.  1991.  Population 
Ecology  of  Terrestrial  Orchids.  The  Hague:  SPB 
Academic  Publishing. 

Whigham,  D.  F.  1990.  The  effect  of  experimental 
defoliation  on  the  growth  and  reproduction 
of  a woodland  orchid,  Tipularia  discolor. 
Canadian  fournal  of  Botany  68:  1812-1816. 

Acknowledgments 

The  manuscript  benefited  from  the  comments  of 

Elizabeth  Platt,  Margaret  Primack,  Renee  Delatizky, 


Dennis  Whigham,  Doug  Gill,  and  Bill  Brumback. 
Permission  to  the  field  sites  was  granted  by  the  Arnold 
Arboretum  of  Harvard  University,  Broadmoor  Audubon 
Sanctuary,  and  the  Newton  Conservation  Commission. 


Richard  Primack  is  a professor  of  plant  ecology  at 
Boston  University  and  is  the  author  of  three  recent 
books:  Essentials  of  Conservation  Biology  (Sinauer 
Associates,  1993),  A Primer  of  Conservation  Biology 
(Sinauer  Associates,  1995),  and  Ecology.  Conservation 
and  Management  of  Southeast  Asian  Rainforests 
(Yale  University  Press,  1995,  co-edited  with  Thomas 
Loveioy). 


Along  the  Way 


Many  unusual  incidents  occurred  over  the 
course  of  the  lady's  slipper  project,  hut  prob- 
ably the  strangest  was  the  appearance  of  care- 
fully arranged  rock  gardens  at  the  Hammond 
Woods  field  site  beginning  in  1987.  Groups  of 
ten  to  twenty  stones  arranged  in  concentric 
circles,  often  planted  with  native  wildflowers 
and  carefully  tended  by  unknown  gardeners, 
simply  appeared  from  time  to  time.  The  gar- 
dens varied  in  size  from  one  only  three  feet 
across  to  a miniature  Stonehenge  six  feet 
across  made  of  elongated  stones  set  upright 
in  the  ground.  Curiously  enough,  none  of  the 
gardens  interfered  with  my  research  plants. 

Over  the  years,  I occasionally  noticed  cut 
flowers,  bowls  of  rice  and  incense,  and  red- 
painted  Sanskrit  letters  on  the  garden  rocks. 

Though  I still  didn't  know  who  had  made  the 
gardens  in  the  midst  of  my  study  population 
or  why  they  had  done  so,  I began  to  appreci- 
ate them  for  their  beauty  and  even  tended 
them  from  time  to  time,  removing  dead 
leaves  and  fallen  branches.  Finally,  in  the 
spring  of  1990  I observed  an  elderly  man 
standing  quietly  behind  a tree.  I introduced 
myself  and  asked  if  he  knew  anything  about 
the  rock  gardens.  He  told  me  that  he  had  built  them  with  a community  of  Buddhists  and  that 
they  often  came  here  to  worship.  Knowing  from  my  wire  tags  next  to  the  plants  that  some- 
one was  studying  the  orchids,  he  had  not  disturbed  the  plants  and  had  even  helped  to  keep 
them  free  of  fallen  branches,  just  as  I had  cleared  his  rock  gardens.  After  that  one  meeting  I 
never  saw  him  again,  and  the  gardens  have  gradually  fallen  into  disrepair. 


A Buddhist  shrine  reminiscent  of  a miniature 
Stonehenge  at  the  Hammond  Woods  site. 


when  the  Roots  Go  Round  and  Round 


Gary  W.  Watson  and  Sandra  Clark 


Investigations  of  girdling  root  formation  in  landscape  trees  shed  light 
on  life  in  the  tree  pit. 

Several  decades  ago,  Amer- 
ican elms  dominated  our 
urban  landscapes.  When 
large  numbers  of  them  suc- 
cumbed to  Dutch  elm  dis- 
ease, they  were  replaced  by 
new  plantings  that  were 
somewhat  less  homogenous, 
but  still  limited  in  most 
cases  to  a handful  of  species. 

Maples,  especially  Norway 
maples,  were  commonly 
included  in  these  replace- 
ment plantings  in  the  Mid- 
west and  elsewhere.  Norway 
maples  were  considered  well 
suited  to  urban  landscapes 
because  of  their  attractive 
form  and  foliage.  Moreover, 
they  are  easy  to  propagate 
and  transplant,  as  well  as 
tolerant  of  a wide  variety  of 
soil  conditions. 

A few  decades  later,  as 
some  of  these  Norway 
maples  approached  matu- 
rity, many  started  to  decline 
unexplainably,  raising  new 
fears  of  devastating  tree 
losses.  Typical  canopy  symp- 
toms included  reduced 
growth,  abnormal  color, 
early  fall  coloration,  and  die- 
back.  There  was  no  evidence 
of  diseases,  pest  infestation, 
or  any  other  aboveground 
problem.  However,  invest!-  The  canopy  of  a Norway  maple  in  Mt.  Pleasant,  Illinois,  shows  symptoms 
gations  below  the  ground  of  girdling  roots:  reduced  growth,  abnormal  color,  and  dieback. 


GARY  W WATSON 


16  Ainoldia  1996  Spring 


Excavation  of  the  root  crown  reveals  a typical  girdling  root  formation  in  an  older  Norway  maple. 


began  to  reveal  that  a high  percentage  of  these 
trees  had  girdling  roots.'  A girdling  root  has 
been  defined  as  "a  root  that  grows  around 
another  root  or  stem,  thus  tending  to  strangle 
the  plant. Where  the  girdling  root  contacts  the 
trunk,  radial  growth  of  both  the  trunk  and  root 
is  distorted  and  reduced.  Normal  movement  of 
water  and  nutrients  from  the  roots  to  the 
canopy  is  greatly  decreased,  leading  to  stress  and 
then  to  decline. 

How  and  why  these  girdling  roots  form  on 
field-grown  trees  is  unknown.  When  plants  are 
grown  in  containers,  of  course,  roots  often  circle 
around  the  interior  of  the  pot.  If  not  cut  or  re- 
moved when  the  plant  is  moved  into  the  land- 
scape, these  "circling  roots"  can  also  strangle 
the  tree  as  it  grows  larger.  In  the  case  of  field- 
grown  stock  that  has  never  been  in  a pot,  how- 
ever, some  other  mechanism  must  he  involved. 

Girdling  roots  on  Norway  maples  are  recog- 
nized all  over  the  country  as  a major  problem. 


and  the  Chicago  area  is  no  exception.  As  an 
example,  in  the  suburb  of  Mt.  Prospect,  where 
they  represent  seventeen  percent  of  all  street 
trees,  some  of  the  Norway  maples  were  reaching 
mature  size  by  1987,  and  some  were  declining 
because  of  girdling  roots.  At  that  time,  we  initi- 
ated a study  to  learn  what  caused  girdling  roots 
and  how  they  might  be  corrected  or  prevented. 
Because  girdling  roots  had  been  reported  on 
sugar  maple  (Acer  saccharum)  and  red  maple 
(A.  rubrum)  as  well  as  Norway  maple  (A. 
platanoides),  all  three  of  these  species  were 
included  in  the  study.^ 

The  first  phase  of  the  work,  involving  excava- 
tion of  the  roots  of  large  Norway  maples  (over 
twelve  inches  in  diameter),  showed  that  girdling 
roots  can  wrap  around  the  entire  trunk  circum- 
ference before  crown  symptoms  develop.  In  fact, 
by  the  time  canopy  decline  becomes  evident, 
the  girdling  is  often  at  an  advanced  stage,  with 
the  roots  so  intertwined  that  little  can  be  done 


Tne  Arnold  ArLoretum 


N G NEWS 


At  the  April  meeting  of  the  Arboretum’s  Visiting  Committee,  Putnam 
Fellow  Kim  Tripp  (right)  signed  copies  of  her  book,  The  Year  in  Trees, 
for  Professor  Hardy  Eshbaugh  of  Miami  University  of  Ohio  (left)  and  Bob 
Bartlett  of  Bartlett  Tree  Company.  Bob  Cook  stands  to  Kim’s  right.  Also 
in  the  photo,  on  the  library  table,  is  one  of  the  plants  of  Heptacodium 
miconioides  that  were  given  to  committee  members. 


A New  Board  and 
Council 

Robert  E.  Cook,  Director 

Over  the  past  winter  some 
friends  of  ours  gathered  together 
on  several  occasions  to  discuss  the 
creation  of  a new  organization  of 
volunteers  to  support  the  work  of 
the  institution.  These  meetings 
grew  out  of  a recognition  that 
most  museums  and  cultural  orga- 
nizations like  the  Arboretum 
enjoy  the  active  involvement  of  a 
board  of  trustees.  Such  groups 
have  proven  immensely  helpful 
in  promoting  knowledge  of  the 
institution’s  programs  and  in  rais- 
ing funds  for  annual  operations 
and  capital  improvements. 

No  such  group  exists  for  the 
Arboretum. 

By  tradition,  the  Director 
has  reported  to  the  Dean  of  the 
Faculty  of  Arts  and  Science  at 
Harvard.  Since  1989  my  boss  has 
been  Sally  Zeckhauser,  Vice  Presi- 
dent for  Administration,  who  in 
turn  reports  to  the  President. 

Also  by  tradition,  the  Arboretum 
has  had  a Visiting  Committee 
appointed  by  Harvard’s  Board  of 
Overseers  to  review  the  programs 
and  progress  of  the  organization 
and  report  back  findings  to  the 
Overseers  every  three  to  five  years. 
Basically,  the  Visiting  Committee 
performs  the  vital  role  of  commu- 
nications with  the  administration 
of  the  University. 

The  new  creation  will  begin 
regular  meetings  next  fall  and  will 


be  called  the  Director's  Advisory 
Board.  A group  of  fifteen  to 
twenty-five  individuals  will  meet 
through  the  year  to  provide  coun- 
sel to  the  Director,  recruit  new 
volunteers,  and  develop  strategies 
for  raising  funds  for  annual  sup- 
port and  future  programs.  The 
Advisory  Board  will  have  several 
standing  committees  (executive, 
campaign,  nominating),  as  well 
as  commitees  focused  on  specific 
programs. 

Our  friends  have  also  recom- 
mended the  creation  of  a second, 
larger  body  called  the  Arboretum 
Council.  This  group  will  meet 
once  or  twice  each  year  and  will 


consist  of  three  kinds  of  members; 
individuals  new  to  the  Arboretum 
who  would  like  to  learn  more 
about  its  programs  before  volun- 
teering the  greater  commitment 
required  by  the  Board;  individuals 
with  limited  time  but  great  inter- 
est in  the  Arboretum;  and  former 
members  of  the  Board  and  the 
Visiting  Committee. 

If  you  would  like  to  become 
more  involved  in  supporting  the 
Arboretum  and  its  programs, 
perhaps  as  a volunteer  tor  one  of 
these  two  new  groups,  drop  me  a 
note  or  an  E-mail.  I would  enjoy 
talking  with  you  about  tlie  possi- 
bilities. 


* _j Ll 


Karen  Madsen 


Kim  Tripp 


"New"  Plants  From  a New  Program  at  the  Arnold  Arboretum 

Kim  Tripp,  Putnam  Fellow,  and  Peter  Del  Tredici,  Director  of  Living  Collections 


Abies  borisii-regis,  King  Boris  fir,  develops  a uniformly  dense  habit  as  a 
young  tree  and  keeps  good  winter  color  with  no  bronzing  or  dieback. 


The  Arnold  Arboretum  is  home  to 
278  acres  of  woody  plants,  many 
of  which  have  proven  to  be  beauti- 
ful, stress  tolerant,  free  of  serious 
pests  and  diseases,  unusual,  and 
yet  adaptable  to  modern  nursery 
production  and  landscape  use.  In 
order  to  make  plants  with  excel- 
lent ornamental  potential  more 
widely  available  to  nurseries  and, 
eventually,  to  the  gardening  pub- 
lic, we  have  instituted  a new 
Arnold  Arboretum  plant  intro- 
duction, promotion,  and  distribu- 
tion program.  Our  goal  is  to  get 
exceptional  woody  plants  now 
in  the  collections  of  the  Arnold 
Arboretum  into  the  hands  ol 
progressive  nurseries  and  other 
botanical  institutions.  To  achieve 
this  goal,  we  will  be  selecting 
woody  ornamentals  with  good 
landscape  potential  from  the  col- 
lections for  increased  promotion 
and  direct  distribution. 

Each  year  the  Living  Collec- 
tions staff  will  select  plants  of  par- 
ticular merit  and  distribute  small 


The  very  ornamental  bark  of 
Primus  cyclamina,  cyclamen 
cherry. 


quantities  of  scions  and  cuttings 
to  professionals  who  can  then  prop- 
agate plants  for  trial  and  eventual 
sale  to  the  gardening  public.  The 
excellent  collections  records  at  the 
Arboretum  has  enabled  the  staff  to 
evaluate  performance  of  these 
plants  over  a period  of  decades. 
Extensive  records  of  propagation 
trials,  in  combination  with  ongo- 
ing propagation  work  at  the  Dana 
Greenhouses,  also  enable  us  to 
offer  sound  propagation  recom- 
mendations. 

Professional  horticultural  orga- 
nizations and  commercial  nurser- 
ies are  invited  to  subscribe  to  the 
Arnold  Arboretum  Plant  Intro- 
duction, Promotion,  and  Distribu- 
tion Program  on  an  annual  basis. 
Subscribers  will  be  offered: 

• Direct  delivery  of  scions, 
cuttings,  or  seed  of  exceptional 
plants  in  the  collections 

• Written  reports  and  plant 
profiles  including:  descriptions, 
propagation  and  cultural  recom- 
mendations, and  landscape  per- 


formance history  at  the  Arnold 
Arboretum 

• An  invitation  to  an  annual 
Subscribers’  Propagation  Work- 
shop, which  will  include  guided 
opportunities  to  collect  from 
much  of  the  Living  Collections. 

Our  1996  selections  are 
Abies  borisii-regis,  King  Boris  fir 
(USDA  zone  5),  Magnolia  grandi- 
flora  ‘Tulsa’,  a clone  of  bull  bay 
magnolia  selected  by  Lester  Case 
of  Winchester,  Massachusetts 
(USDA  zone  6),  and  Primus 
cyclamina.  cyclamen  cherry,  a 
highly  ornamental  species  with 
unusual  reliability  (USDA  zone  6, 
possibly  5).  Funding  generously 
provided  from  the  Stanley  Smith 
Horticultural  Trust  and  the 
Willowwood  Foundation  has 
made  it  possible  for  us  to  initiate 
this  new  program. 

If  you  are  a nursery  professional 
or  professional  horticulturist  inter- 
ested in  learning  how  to  participate 
in  the  program,  please  contact  Kim 
Tripp  by  fax  at  617/524-6413. 


2 


SPRING  1996 


Kim  Tripp 


Peter  Del  Tredici 


Spring  Planting  1996 

Peter  Del  ’I  redh  i,  Director  of  Living  Collections 

The  one  thing  that  can  be  said  tor  certain  about  this 
spring’s  weather  is  that  it  has  been  good  tor  tlie  plants. 
Unlike  the  past  tew  springs  with  their  below-average 
precipitation,  this  one  provided  subtantial  moisture  at 
intervals  that  seemed  to  occur  every  other  day.  In  addi- 
tion, the  cool  temperatures  in  May  held  the  plants  back 
enough  to  allow  the  entire  list  of  spring  plantings  to  be 
dug  in  before  leafing  out.  Were  it  not  for  a surprise 
snowstorm  late  in  April,  1996  might  qualify  as  a per- 
fect spring  for  transplanting. 

Among  the  highlights  of  the  planting  season  was  the 
completion  of  the  replanting  of  the  Chinese  Path  area, 
where  we  added  more  Corylopsis  species,  four  specimens 
of  Lindera  obtusiloba.  a young  plant  of  Chionanthi/s  retnsns 
(the  Chinese  fringe  tree),  and  the  relocation  of  a twenty- 
foot-tall  specimen  of  Acer  triflorum.  The  addition  of 
these  plants,  together  with  containerized  plants  to  come 
later  this  spring,  will  conclude  the  renovation  of  the 
area,  making  it  not  only  more  beautiful,  but  also  much 
more  accessible  to  pedestrians. 

It  was  a particular  pleasure  to  see  the  new  plantings 
on  Peters  Hill,  which  featured  numerous  accessions 
of  cherries,  pears,  hawthorns,  and  crabapples,  thereby 
insuring  the  beauty  of  that  area  for  future  generations 
of  Arboretum  visitors.  Over  the  course  of  the  last  three 
years,  the  Peters  Hill  area  has  undergone  a nearly  com- 


Grounds  superintendent  Patrick  Willoughby  next 
to  Magnolia  stellata,  in  the  jaws  of  a tree  spade  that 
has  uprooted  it  for  replanting  near  the  Hunnewell 
Building. 

plete  transformation  that  will  be 
capped  with  a redesign  of  the 
summit  sometime  in  1997. 

In  addition  to  these  two  areas, 
the  rest  of  the  Arboretum  was  lib- 
erally sprinkled  with  a variety  of 
new  plants,  including  maples, 
alders,  birches,  the  new  Cornns 
florida  x konsa  hybrids  from 
Rutgers  University,  oaks,  redbuds, 
ashes,  and  the  disease-resistant 
cultivar  of  the  American  elm, 
Princeton'.  Perhaps  tlie  most 
unusual  specimen  planted  this 
year  was  a hackberry  from  China, 
Celtis  vandervoetiana.  wliich  is  per- 
haps the  only  one  of  its  kind  in 
North  America.  We  hope  this  new 
generation  of  trees  will  in  some 
measure  compensate  for  the 
weather-related  losses  of  the  past 
two  years. 


This  specimen  of  LJlmus  americana  ‘Princeton’  has  been  growing  on 
Bussey  Hill  since  1935.  Scions  of  this  disease-resistant  cultivar  were  among 
the  new  spring  plantings. 


ARNOLD  ARBORITUM  NEWS 


3 


Karen  Madsen 


The  Arboretum  Becomes  a New  Stop  on  the  Information 
Superhighway 

Chris  Strand,  Outreach  Horticulturist 


: C=> 

Netscape  - [Arnold  Arboretum  Home  Page] 

▼ 1 

▲ 

File  Edit  View 

Go  Bookmarks  Options  Directory  Window  Help 

Location:  http:  ,'/www.  arboretum,  harvard,  edu.'' 

What's  New!  ] What's  Cool!  | Handbook  j Net  Search 

Net  Directory  ' 

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Tile  Arnold  Afboretiun  is  a collection  of  hat'dy  trees,  slirubs,  and  vines  located  on 
265  acres  m Boston,  Massachusetts.  Tlie  grounds  were  planned  and  designed  by 
the  Arboretimi's  fii'st  du'ector,  Charles  Sprague  Sargent,  m collaboration  vwth  the 
landscape  arcliitect,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted.  Begun  m 1872  and  named  for  its 
benefactor  James  Arnold,  the  Arboretum  continues  to  collect  woody  plants  from 
around  the  world  and  offer  horticultural  education  ui  accordance  with  its  mission. 


-r/>al  Document:  Done 


0-? 


The  first  page  ot  the  Arboretum’s  World  Wide  Web  site  as  seen  on  the  computer  screen. 


On  April  1,  the  Arnold  Arbore- 
tum became  part  of  the  growing 
community  of  botanical  gardens 
offering  information  over  the 
World  Wide  Web.  The  web,  as 
it  is  often  abbreviated,  is  a global 
computer  network  that  allows 
users  to  view  images,  send  elec- 
tronic mail,  read  articles,  and 
query  databases — all  from  a per- 
sonal computer. 

The  Arboretum's  new  home 
page  is  organized  by  five  basic 
areas  of  content:  living  collections, 
library  and  archives,  membership, 
public  programs,  and  visitor  infor- 
mation. Some  of  the  page’s  high- 
lights include  a library  catalog,  a 


detailed  bloom  schedule  for  the 
Boston  area,  an  inventory  of  our 
living  collections,  course  listings 
for  spring  and  summer  educa- 
tional programs,  and  articles  on 
woody  plants  and  landscape 
design. 

The  World  Wide  Web  is  a 
convenient  and  potentially  power- 
ful way  to  communicate  with  new 
audiences.  As  of  1995  nearly  10 
million  users  had  accessed  the  web 
for  information,  and  it  is  pre- 
dicted that  over  15  million  will 
access  the  web  in  1996.  Most 
classrooms  have  or  are  acquiring 
connections  to  the  World  Wide 
Web,  and  our  own  children’s 


education  program  has  begun  a 
project  called  the  Community  Sci- 
ence Connection  that  will  link  six- 
teen schools  to  the  Arboretum  and 
one  another  through  the  World 
Wide  Web. 

To  some  of  our  members, 
this  emphasis  on  technology  may 
seem  somewhat  uncharacteristic. 
Although  it  is  true  that  our  web 
site  was  unveiled  on  April  Fool’s 
Day,  we  are  serious  in  our  com- 
mitment to  find  new  ways  to  share 
the  Arboretum  with  the  public. 
After  all,  we  are  not  proposing  to 
create  a virtual  Arboretum — there 
remains  no  silicon  subsritute  for 
walking  beneath  trees. 


SPRING  1 996 


AmyC.  Wilson 


Annual  Fall  Plant  Sale 

Lisa  Hastings,  Development  Officer 

Planning  is  well  underway  for  the  Arboretum’s  Annual  Fall  Plant  Sale,  which  will  take  place  this  year  on 
Sunday,  September  15,  from  9:00  am— 1:00  pm  at  the  Case  Estates  in  Weston.  One  of  the  premier  horticul- 
tural events  of  the  fall  season,  the  plant  sale  offers  distinctive  and  unusual  trees,  shrubs,  and  perennials,  many 
propagated  from  the  Living  Collections  at  the  Arboretum.  Our  largest  member  event  of  the  year,  members 
receive  a free  plant  dividend,  discounts  on  all  purchases,  and  early  entrance  to  the  sale. 

A sampling  of  the  plants  to  be  offered  this  year  include:  Cornus  florida  ’Xanthocarpa’,  Pistacia  chinensis, 
Aheliophyllum  distichum  ‘Roseum’,  Eitonymus  carnosus,  Hypericum  buckleyi,  Ilex  verticillata  'Winter  Gold’,  Neillia 
thihetica,  Prinsepia  sinensis,  Clematis  serratifoUa,  Tsnga  diversifolia,  and  Spigelia  marilandica.  A complete  plant  sale 
catalog,  including  plants  in  the  Collector’s  Choice  category,  will  be  mailed  to  all  members  in  early  August. 

This  year’s  plant  sale  will  also  feature  the  return  of  the  Silent  Auction,  to  take  place  from  9:00  to  11:15 
am,  and  the  Rare  Plant  Auction  at  1 1:30  am.  The  auctions,  proceeds  of  which  benefit  the  curation  and  m.ain- 
tenance  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum’s  Living  Collections,  will  feature  rare  and  unusual  plants  donated  by  nurser- 
ies located  throughout  the  United  States.  Finally,  plant  societies  from  around  New  England  will  participate  in 
Society  Row,  located  in  the  field  and  open  from  9:00  am— 1:00  pm. 

If  you  have  question  about  the  plant  sale  or  are  interested  in  volunteering,  please  contact  Chris  Strand, 
617/524—1718  x 125,  or  Kara  Stepanian,  x 129-  Mark  your  calendar  and  plan  to  join  us! 


In  April,  a young  cork  tree 
(Phellodendron  amurensis) 
was  planted  near  Meadow 
Road  in  the  former  shade  of 
the  121-year-old  veteran 
that  fell  under  the  weight 
of  twenty-two  sixth-graders 
last  fall.  The  five-year-old 
was  welcomed  with  great 
ceremony,  and  Winsor 
School  students  presented 
Director  Bob  Cook  with  a 
S30()  check  to  help  ensure  a 
long  and  happy  life  for  the 
newcomer. 


Wanted!  Needed!  Help! 

The  Arnold  Arboretum  is  currently  working  on  a permanent 
exhibit  for  the  Hunnewell  Building  that  will  be  unveiled  in 
October.  We  are  searching  for  two  items  that  are  intrinsic  to  our 
“story”:  a 195()s-era  wheelbarrow  in  relatively  good  condition 
and  two  or  three  empty  burlap  bags — preferably  with  no  marks 
on  one  side. 

If  you  can  donate  these  items,  you  will  receive  a special  invi- 
tation to  the  opening  along  with  our  heartfelt  thanks.  Please 
contact  Chris  Strand  at  617/524-1718  x 125. 


ARNOLD  ARBORETUM  NEWS 


5 


Karen  Madsen 


Gone  West 


We  regret  to  announce  that  after  this  issue  a 
name  will  disappear  from  the  roster  of  our  Edi- 
torial Committee.  Richard  Schulhot,  Director 


of  Education  and  Public  Programs  since  1992,  has  left 
the  Arboretum  to  undertake  the  directorship  of  Descanso 
Gardens,  La  Canada  Flinrridge,  in  his  native  southern 
California.  Descanso  boasts  the  world’s  largest  collection 
of  camellias  as  well  as  an  outstanding  rose  collection,  but 
even  more  interesting  botanically  is  its  native  vegetation. 
This  includes  an  extensive  area  of  chapparal  and  a pristine 
woodland  of  coastal  live  oak,  Quercns  agrifolia,  one  of  the 
few  that  are  publicly  accessible  in  southern  California. 
Descanso  can  be  visited  via  the  World  Wide  Web  at  http, 
//www.  mobot.org/aabga/member.pages/descanso.html/. 

Richard  came  to  the  Arboretum  in  1989  as  a Putnam 
Fellow  and  quickly  took  the  role  of  coordinator  of  the  mas- 
ter planning  project.  He  was  instrumental  in  interpreting 
both  the  cultural  and  scientific  missions  of  the  Arboretum, 
and  to  him  goes  credit  for  the  National  Endowment  for  the 
Humanities  grants  for  the  development  of  a permanent 
exhibit  to  be  unveiled  this  autumn.  Richard  has  been  a 
much  valued  colleague;  we  wish  him  all  the  best. 


New  Staff 


The  Development  Department  at  the  Arboretum 
announces  the  addition  of  two  new  staff  members.  Kelly 
Harvey  replaces  David  Sieks  as  the  Membership  Assistant. 
In  this  newly  expanded  role,  Kelly  manages  all  activities 
related  to  the  Friends  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum,  including 
new  member  acquisition,  special  membership  events,  and 
the  membership  database.  She  joins  us  from  the  Harvard 
Graduate  School  of  Design,  where  as  office  manager  she 
coordinated  the  school's  computer  helpdesk.  She  also 
brings  prior  experience  in  public  relations  and  fundraising 
from  previous  work  as  circulation  assistant  of  the  Harvard 
University  Gazette  and  as  membership  assistant  for 
Harvard’s  Sports  Alumni  Friends  groups. 


Kara  Stepanian  joins  the  Arboretum  in  the 
newly  created  position  of  Development  Assis- 
tant. Kara’s  activities  will  focus  on  our  fund- 
raising initiatives  including  the  live  and  silent 
auctions  at  the  annual  fall  plant  sale,  creating 
and  managing  a development  database,  donor 
research,  and  special  events.  Kara  comes  to  us 
from  Harvard’s  Graduate  School  of  Arts  and 
Sciences  Alumni  Association  where  she  worked 
with  the  alumni  advisory  council,  planned 
events,  and  wrote  for  the  alumni  publication. 
Prior  to  that,  she  worked  in  development  for 
the  Seattle  Symphony  in  Washington  State. 


6 


SPRING  1996 


Karen  Madsen 


PROGRAM  S ^ EVENTS 


The  Arboretum's  Education  Department  offers  a wide  variety  of  courses,  programs,  and  lectures  in  horticul- 
ture, botany,  and  landscape  design.  A selection  of  summer  courses  is  shown  here.  For  a complete  catalogue  of 
programs  and  events  at  the  Arboretum,  call  617/524—1718  x 162.  Please  note  that  fees  shown  in  boldface  are 
for  members  of  the  Arboretum.  For  information  about  becoming  a member,  call  617/524—1718  x 165. 


HOR  338  Basic  Care  for  Trees  and  Shrubs 
Joseph  J.  Camilliere  III,  Consulting  Arborist 
Trees  and  shrubs  are  key  structural  elements  in  the 
landscape.  Learn  the  basic  techniques  used  to  care 
for  and  enhance  woody  ornamental  trees  and  shrubs, 
from  identifying  stresses  to  pruning  and  feeding. 

Session  1:  Basic  Anatomy  and  Physiology 
Understanding  tree  growth  and  function 

Session  2:  Evaluating  Trees  and  Shrubs 
Recognizing  the  signs  and  symptoms  of  insects, 
diseases,  and  environmental  stresses;  applying 
basic  treatment  tactics 

Session  3:  Proper  Care  for  Maximum  Health 
Pruning,  maintaining  shrubs  at  desired  sizes, 
fertilizing — what  to  use  and  when,  mulching 
and  root  care,  preventing  mechanical  injury, 
when  to  call  a professional  arborist 
Fee:  $45,  54 

3 Mondays,  July  8,  15,  22/  6:30-8:30  pm  (CE) 

HOR  393  Planning  the  Drought-Tolerant 
Garden 

Gary  Koller,  Senior  Horticulturist,  Arnold  Arboretum 

The  drought  of  1995  took  its  toll  on  the  gardens 
of  New  England  and  left  many  gardeners  wondering 
how  to  proceed.  This  class  will  focus  on  design  con- 
cepts of  xeriscaping,  or  planning  the  garden  for 
greater  drought  tolerance  and  less  dependence  on 
supplemental  irrigation.  Participants  will  look  at 
the  concepts  of  water  conservation  in  the  garden, 
designs  that  group  plants  based  on  watering  needs, 
and  plant  selections  that  are  both  drought  tolerant 
and  efficient  in  water  usage.  Sessions  will  include 
discussion,  practical  planting  layouts,  and  plant 
lists,  as  well  as  a walk  to  look  at  drought-tolerant 
} plants  growing  in  the  Arnold  Arboretum 

collections. 

Fee:  $58,  $70 

3 Wednesdays,  July  10,  17,  24/  4:00—6:00  pm 
(DG) 


BOT  1 19  The  August  Landscape:  Trees, 

Shrubs,  and  Vines 

Richard  Stomberg,  Manager,  Harvard  University 
Herbaria  Glasshouses 

The  ornamental  potential  of  plants  in  August  can 
be  overlooked  when  heat-dazzled  Bostonians  con- 
centrate their  attention  on  beaches  and  vacations. 
Sophora  japonica,  Evodia  daniellii,  and  Clerodendrurn 
trichotomum  will  be  among  the  plants  explored  on 
this  warm-weather  walk  through  the  Arboretum. 
Fee:  $12, $15 

Saturday,  August  17/  10:00— noon  (DG) 

HOR  136  Ornamental  Grasses 

Darrell  Probst,  Horticultural  Consultant  and  Landscape 

Designer 

In  the  diverse  world  of  ornamental  grasses  exist 
plants  suitable  for  gardens  of  every  size  and  for 
sunny,  shady,  wet,  and  dry  locations.  Some  grasses 
are  so  large  and  dramatic  that  they  can  be  used  as 
shrubs  or  specimen  plantings;  others  are  miniatures, 
at  home  in  the  small-scale  landscape.  Their  colors 
form  a rainbow  of  greens,  pinks,  creams,  blues, 
golds,  and  whites.  This  introduction  to  decorative 
grasses  will  focus  on  these  versatile  perennials. 

Fee:  $16,  $19 

Tuesday,  August  20/  6:30—8:30  pm  (CE) 


ARNOLD  ARBORETUM  NEWS  • 


Photographs  by  Karen  Madsen 


8 


SPRING  1 996 


Girdling  Roots  17 


to  correct  the  problem.  In  these  cases,  the  advis- 
ability of  removing  girdling  roots  is  uncertain 
even  where  the  individual  roots  are  distinct 
enough  to  make  removal  practicable:  if  a large 
root  constricting  the  trunk  is  removed,  a sub- 
stantial portion  of  the  root  system  may  be  lost 
with  it.  Root  loss  can  also  cause  stress,  decline, 
and  even  death  of  the  tree. 

After  these  disappointing  initial  excavations, 
the  Mt.  Prospect  study  focused  on  younger  park- 
way trees  that  had  been  in  place  for  only  three 
to  ten  years.  Trees  of  this  age  are  well  enough 
established  so  that  the  stress  from  root  crown 
excavation  is  minimal,  but  young  enough  so 
that  severe  girdling  has  not  yet  developed.  In 
this  second  phase  of  the  study,  a total  of  120  root 
crowns  were  excavated  over  a two-year  period. 
The  number  of  girdling  roots  was  recorded,  and 
these  girdling  roots  were  removed  when  this 


could  be  done  without  substantially  reducing 
the  total  root  system.  The  approximate  age  of 
each  root  removed  was  determined  by  smooth- 
ing a cross  section  and  counting  the  number  of 
annual  rings. 

Tree  roots  can  be  classified  as  (1)  primary 
roots,  which  radiate  out  from  the  base  of  the 
tree-like  spokes  of  a wheel;  (2)  secondary  roots, 
which  are  lateral  branches  of  primary  roots  that 
grow  almost  perpendicular  to  them;  and  (3)  ter- 
tiary roots,  which  are  lateral  branches  of  second- 
ary roots.  Almost  all  the  girdling  roots  found 
were  secondary  or  tertiary  roots.  This  is  not  sur- 
prising since  the  nearly  perpendicular  branches 
of  the  spoke-like  primary  roots  are  more  likely 
to  wrap  around  the  base  of  the  trunk  or  cross 
other  roots. 

A strong  relationship  between  transplanting 
and  girdling  root  formation  became  apparent  in 


Age  Relative  to  Transplanting  Date  (years) 

This  chart  relates  the  age  of  the  girdling  roots  of  Norway,  red,  and  sugar  maples  to  the  number  of  years 
since  transplantation. 


18  Ainoldia  1996  Spring 


These  drawings  describe  the  probable  mechanism  involved 
in  girdling  root  formation:  (a)  The  major  roots  of  a tree 
normally  radiate  out  from  the  trunk.  These  roots  and  some 
of  their  lateral  roots  are  severed  during  transplanting, 
(b)  After  transplanting,  new  roots  that  are  initiated  from  the 
cut  ends  follow  the  same  direction  as  the  original.  Growth 
in  existing  and  new  lateral  roots  is  stimulated  and  these  can 
become  girdling  roots,  as  indicated  by  the  arrows. 


all  three  maple  species,  with  the  majority 
of  the  girdling  roots  being  initiated  within 
one  year  of  transplanting.  This  fact,  to- 
gether with  the  finding  that  most  girdling 
roots  are  secondary  or  tertiary  roots,  en- 
abled us  to  construct  a hypothesis  of  the 
way  girdling  roots  may  be  formed  on  field- 
grown  transplanted  trees.  Normally,  sec- 
ondary roots  grow  slowly  and  remain  quite 
small  as  long  as  the  primary  root  is  intact. 
When  the  tree  is  dug  in  the  nursery  and 
the  large  radiating  primary  roots  are  sev- 
ered, however,  the  secondary  roots  often 
begin  to  grow  more  rapidly.  In  addition, 
new  secondary  roots  may  form  some  dis- 
tance behind  the  cut  end  of  the  primary 
root.  All  these  vigorously  growing  second- 
ary roots  are  located  close  to  the  base  of 
the  trunk  and  are  well  positioned  to  be- 
come girdling  roots  as  both  the  roots  and 
the  trunk  grow  larger.  If  severing  the  pri- 
mary roots  during  transplanting  is  indeed 
the  stimulus  for  girdling  root  formation,  it 
is  easy  to  understand  why  girdling  roots  do 
not  generally  occur  in  forests. 

The  Mt.  Prospect  study  found  that 
young  Norway  maples  and  sugar  maples 
had  an  average  of  four  girdling  roots  per 
tree.  Red  maples  had  even  more — nearly 
twice  as  many.  Why  is  it,  then,  that  only 
the  Norways  show  canopy  decline  when 
they  mature?  Excavation  of  root  crowns 
of  sugar  and  red  maples  twenty-one  to 
twenty-eight  years  after  transplanting 
revealed  very  few  girdling  roots.  Those 
that  were  present  were  relatively  small, 
and  all  were  less  than  twelve  years  old.  By 
contrast,  girdling  roots  of  Norway  maples 
of  similar  age  were  much  more  numerous 
and  ranged  in  age  up  to  twenty-four  years. 
For  unknown  reasons,  it  seems  that  the 
girdling  roots  that  develop  on  red  and 
sugar  maples  as  a result  of  transplanting 
are  short-lived,  unlike  the  case  of  Norway 
maples. 

How  can  we  prevent  or  correct  girdling 
roots?  Numerous  girdling  roots  were 
removed  during  the  first  phase  of  the  Mt. 
Prospect  study  in  hopes  of  preventing 


PHOTOS  BY  GARY  W,  WATSON 


Girdling  Roots  19 


These  photos  show  the  girdling  roots  of  a Norway  maple  (a) 
before  and  (b)  after  corrective  treatment,  and  then  again  (c) 
four  years  later.  The  arrows  indicate  the  same  location  in  all 
photos. 


canopy  decline  in  the  future;  the  process  of 
excavation  and  root  removal  is  time  con- 
suming hut  would  be  worth  the  effort  if  it 
were  effective.  To  determine  whether  this 
was  the  case,  one  quarter  of  the  same  Nor- 
way maple  trees  were  excavated  again  in 
1992  and  their  roots  compared  to  photos 
taken  at  the  time  of  the  1987  excavation. 
It  soon  became  clear  that  one  or  more 
roots  had  consistently  regenerated  from 
each  root  removal  site.  The  new  roots,  just 
like  the  old  ones,  were  usually  nearly  per- 
pendicular to  the  radially  oriented  primary 
roots  and  well  positioned  to  become  gir- 
dling roots. 

This  finding  was  discouraging,  but  there 
may  still  be  hope.  It  was  encouraging  to 
learn  that  the  root  systems  of  Norway 
maples  have  diverse  growth  habits.  Those 
with  many  large  girdling  roots  at  the  time 
of  the  first  excavation  showed  many  large 
regenerated  girdling  roots  four  years  later. 
Likewise,  root  systems  that  initially  had 
fewer  and  smaller  girdling  roots  showed 
fewer  and  smaller  regenerated  roots.  And 
of  the  sixty  older  Norway  maples  exam- 
ined in  the  first  phase  of  the  study,  girdling 
and  potentially  girdling  roots  were  com- 
pletely absent  on  two  trees.  Theoretically, 
this  genetic  diversity  may  allow  root  stock 
to  be  selected  and  propagated  so  as  to  re- 
duce or  eliminate  girdling  roots  altogether. 

Until  better  root  stocks  are  developed, 
communities  should  avoid  overplanting 
Norway  maples  (or  any  other  single  spe- 
cies) and  be  prepared  to  accept  substantial 
losses  from  girdling  roots  as  the  trees  reach 
maturity.  What  these  losses  may  amount 
to  can  be  estimated  only  imprecisely  at 
between  ten  and  forty  percent.'*  We  don't 
know  exactly  how  long  Norway  maples 
would  survive  if  they  didn't  develop  gir- 
dling roots.  The  average  life  span  for  all 
urban  trees  is  only  thirty-seven  years, 
however,  so  it  is  possible  that  on  average 
girdling  roots  shorten  the  life  of  Norway 
maples  by  only  a few  years. ^ 

It  would  be  easy  to  say  that  we  shouldn't 
plant  Norway  maples  because  of  the  gir- 
dling root  problem,  but  then  we  might  also 


20  Arnoldia  1996  Spring 


These  photos  show  examples  of  the  diverse  character  of  Norway  maple  root  development.  Selection  of  root 
stock  like  that  seen  on  the  right  in  the  lower  photo  may  be  the  best  way  to  eliminate  most  girdling 
root  problems  in  the  future. 


Girdling  Roots  21 


have  to  stop  planting  redbuds  (Cercis 
canadensis)  because  they  can  get  verticillium 
wilt,  green  ashes  (Fraxinus  pennsylvanica) 
because  they  can  get  borers,  and  red  oaks 
(Quercus  rubrum)  because  they  are  susceptible 
to  oak  wilt.  There  is  an  appropriate  place  for 
every  tree.  For  reasons  of  historical  significance, 
American  elms  are  still  planted  on  the  National 
Mall  in  Washington,  DC,  even  though  they  may 
eventually  die  from  Dutch  elm  disease,  and  in 
fact,  they  may  survive  the  harsh  site  conditions 
as  well  as  or  better  than  any  other  tree.  You 


might  not  want  to  plant  a Norway  maple  in  a 
location  where  survival  for  many  decades  is 
important,  but  if  a life  span  of  thirty  years  is 
acceptable,  there  is  no  reason  not  to  plant  one. 
The  Village  of  Mt.  Prospect  continues  to  plant 
Norway  maples,  but  tries  to  use  them  in  mixed 
species  plantings  so  that  no  single  problem  can 
wipe  out  all  the  trees  in  an  area. 


Gary  Watson  is  Root  System  Biologist  at  The  Morton 
Arboretum  in  Lisle,  Illinois.  Sandra  Clark  is  Super- 
intendent of  Forestry,  Village  of  Mt.  Prospect,  Illinois. 


Frequency  of  girdling  roots  in  relation  to  planting  depth  for  all  maple  species 


It  is  often  contended  that  trees 
planted  too  deeply  have  more  girdling 
roots,  but  the  matter  has  never  been 
formally  studied.  The  Mt.  Prospect 
study  found  no  relationship  between 
planting  depth  and  girdling  roots. 
However,  the  data  do  show  how  often 
trees  are  planted  too  deeply  in  the 
landscape.  Over  half  the  trees  studied 
had  been  planted  two  to  eight  inches 
too  deep,  even  though  all  were 
planted  by  reputable  commercial 
landscape  companies.  Planting  too 
deep  is  one  of  the  major  causes  of 
death  of  trees  of  all  species  planted  in 
the  landscape.  No  soil  should  cover 
the  top  of  the  root  ball  when  the 
planting  job  is  complete. 


Root  flare  relative 
to  grade  [inches  (cm)]* 

Number  of 
trees 

Average  number  of 
girdling  roots /tree 

+ 1 (2.5) 

1 

4 

at  grade 

21 

5 

-1  (2.5) 

2 

3 

-2  (5.0) 

13 

5 

-3(7.5) 

2 

9 

-4  (10.0) 

7 

5 

-5  (12.5) 

1 

4 

-6  (15.0) 

4 

5 

-7(17.5) 

1 

1 

-8  (20.0) 

2 

2 

as  within  one  inch  of  the 

soil  surface. 

Endnotes 

' Robert  L.  Tate,  Bole  cbaracteristics  associated  with  girdled  Norway  maple  trees.  Journal  of  Arboriculture  (1981) 
7(10);  308. 

^ A Technical  Glossary  of  Horticultural  and  Landscape  Terminology.  Washington,  DC:  Horticultural  Research 
Institute,  1971. 

^ Three  other  species,  green  ash  (Fraxinus  pennsylvanica),  honeylocust  (Gleditsia  triacanthos),  and  littleleaf  linden 
(Tilia  cordataj  were  also  studied  but  were  found  to  have  less  than  half  as  many  girdling  roots  as  any  of  the  maples. 
Girdling  roots  were  especially  infrequent  in  lindens.  The  authors'  documentation  of  these  findings  can  be  found  in 
Journal  of  Arboriculture  16(8):  197-202  and  19(5):  278-280. 

These  percentages  are  based  on  R.  L.  Tate's  number  of  girdling  roots  and  percent  of  encirclement  as  well  as  on  data 
and  experience  from  our  own  work. 

^ This  figure  for  average  life  span  is  taken  from  B.  Skiera  and  G.  Moll,  Trees  in  the  Red,  Urban  Forests  12(1):  9-1 1. 


Nature's  Relentless  Onslaught,  Redux 


Todd  Forrest 


If  watching  woody  plants  endure  extreme  weather  is  your  interest,  then  1996 
looks  no  less  promising  than  1995. 


Ambivalence,  not  indignation,  is 
the  healthier  attitude  to  have 
towards  the  weather.  It's  not  that 
the  weather  doesn't  provide  ample 
cause  for  complaint — it  does — but 
any  protest  about  the  heat,  or  the 
rain,  or  the  cold,  or  the  snow  is  an 
invitation  to  compounded  frustra- 
tion. This  spring  was  a case  in 
point.  Last  year's  drought  made 
Arboretum  horticulturists  anxious 
for  early  spring  precipitation,  and 
even  after  the  winter's  record- 
breaking  snowfall  we  were  still 
tense  when  the  end  of  March  and 
first  week  of  April  turned  out  to  he 
abnormally  dry.  The  possibility  of 
another  seven-month  drought  was 
enough  to  give  us  nightmares  about 
our  favorite  plants  withering  away 
on  the  grounds.  Nervously  watch- 
ing long-term  forecasts,  we  con- 
sulted our  almanacs,  looked  for 
solace  from  meteorologists,  and 
prayed  for  rain. 

Then  it  snowed.  On  Monday, 
April  8,  four  inches  of  snow  fell, 
most  of  which  melted  by  that  after- 
noon. Two  days  later  it  snowed 
for  real,  dumping  eleven-point-five 
inches  of  wet  and  heavy  snow 
across  New  England,  covering  cor- 
nelian cherries  and  magnolias  and 
daffodils  with  nature's  version  of 
wet  cement.  Our  much-needed  pre- 
cipitation did  even  more  structural 
damage  to  the  Arboretum's  plants 
than  the  ice  storm  of  March  1995. 


The  weak  crotch  between  the  two  main  leaders  of  this  ninety-year- 
old  red  oak  couldn’t  stand  the  combination  of  wind  and  wet,  heavy 
snow  brought  by  the  snowstorm  on  April  10.  The  tree  split  in  half, 
crushing  a little  cherry,  mangling  an  osage  orange,  and  stripping  the 
lower  branches  from  the  Metasequoia  in  the  background. 


Nature's  Onslaught  23 


All  that  was  left  of  the  red  oak  after  the  storm. 


About  one-hundred  plants  were  recorded  by  the 
grounds  crew  as  needing  some  sort  of  pruning, 
and  roughly  thirty  of  those  had  to  be  removed 
entirely.  Some  of  the  destruction  was  spectacu- 
lar, like  the  ninety-year-old  oak  growing  on  the 
southeast  flank  of  Peters  Hill  that  split  in  half, 
crushing  a small  Prunus  and  peeling  all  of  the 
lower  limhs  from  a forty-eight-year-old  Metase- 
quoia. The  Metasequoia  still  stands  but  it  looks 
like  a fish  skeleton  that's  been  stripped  of  two- 
thirds  of  its  ribs.  Three  mature  beeches  dropped 
thousand-pound  limbs,  and  the  snow  knocked 
off  most  of  the  recently  opened  Acer  rubrum 
and  A.  saccharinum  flowers,  creating  a scarlet 
carpet  at  the  bases  of  the  larger  trees.  Our  oldest 
specimen  of  Magnolia  zenii  (Arnold  Arboretum 
accession  1485-80-B),  the  Arboretum's  official 
harbinger  of  spring  since  it  first  flowered  on  3 1 
March  1988,  lost  many  buds  and  didn't  fully 
open  until  15  April,  two  weeks  later  than  usual. 

But  like  most  things  that  happen  in  a garden, 
the  storm  also  provided  us  with  new  informa- 


tion about  the  collections.  After  spending  more 
than  a week  finding  and  removing  seriously  in- 
jured trees,  arborists  John  Del  Rosso  and  fobn 
Olmsted  began  to  see  a pattern  in  the  broken 
and  fallen  limbs.  "Most  of  the  serious  damage 
we  found  could  be  traced  to  a pre-existing  con- 
dition in  the  tree,"  observed  Olmsted.  "Weak 
crotches  [where  two  limbs  or  leaders  meet  and 
form  a narrow,  V-shaped  intersection]  and  old 
cracks  formed  by  prior  storms  or  badly  healed 
pruning  cuts  caused  most  of  the  big  breaks,"  Del 
Rosso  added.  According  to  Olmsted  and  Del 
Rosso,  there  were  a lot  of  minor  cracks  and 
stress  damage  from  last  year's  ice  storm  and 
these  grew  during  the  subsequent  drought  as  the 
wood  dried  and  contracted.  Eventually,  those 
cracks  got  big  enough  to  undermine  the  tree's 
ability  to  endure  the  combination  of  wind  and 
snow  that  came  with  the  spring  storm. 

A few  arborists  claim  that  some  species  are 
more  prone  than  others  to  breaking  up  in  heavy 
winds,  rain,  or  snow.  Olmsted  and  Del  Rosso 


24  Arnoldia  1 996  Spring 


found  little  evidence  to  substantiate  this  theory: 
instead,  they  found  that  a tree's  location  is  the 
primary  determination  of  whether  it  withstands 
or  succumbs  to  severe  weather.  Large  trees 
planted  along  roads  or  on  hillsides  exposed  to 
the  wind  were  more  likely  to  lose  major  limhs 
while  trees  protected  by  buildings  or  planted 
amidst  other  plants  tended  to  fare  better.  Coni- 
fers, shaped  by  evolution  to  allow  snow  to  slide 
off  their  branches,  showed  their  inbred  capacity 
to  weather  such  an  unexpected  spring  storm: 
very  few  of  our  large  pines,  firs,  or  spruces  lost 
limhs  and  none  had  to  be  removed.  On  the  other 
hand,  many  of  the  small  ornamental  cherries 
and  apples,  planted  in  the  open  to  maximize  the 
effect  of  their  flowers,  lost  many  large  branches 
and  about  a dozen  had  to  be  removed. 

This  spring  snowstorm  added  to  the  list 
of  things  that  need  to  he  done  this  season  to 
restore  and  rejuvenate  plants  in  the  Arnold 
Arboretum.  Members  of  the  staff  are  still  look- 
ing for  the  inconspicuous  cracks  and  breaks 


that,  if  left  untended,  will  cause  spectacular 
damage  in  the  future.  Unfortunately,  with  over 
twelve  thousand  accessioned  trees  and  tens  of 
thousands  of  spontaneous  plants  growing  on  the 
grounds,  we  will  never  quite  catch  up.  But  even 
if  we  don't  find  all  the  damage  now,  we  can 
count  on  future  storms  to  show  us  exactly  what 
we  missed. 

Acknowledgments 

Thanks  to  arborists  John  Olmsted  and  John  Del  Rosso  for 
taking  time  out  of  one  of  their  long  days  of  pruning  to 
discuss  what  they  observed  on  the  grounds  after  the 
latest  snowstorm.  This  has  been  a busy  spring  for  John 
and  John — the  responsibility  for  all  of  the  major  pruning 
and  removals  at  the  Arboretum  falls  onto  their 
shoulders,  and  all  of  our  recent  severe  weather  has  left 
them  with  a considerably  increased  workload. 


Todd  Forrest  is  the  plant  recorder  at  the  Arnold 
Arboretum,  at  least  until  August,  when  he  will  begin 
studies  at  the  Yale  Graduate  School  of  Forestry. 


Corrigendum:  In  the  report  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum  Weather  Station  Data — 1995,  which  appeared 
in  Volume  55:4,  the  length  of  the  growing  season  was  incorrect.  It  should  have  read  187  days. 


Would  a Lilac  by  Any  Other  Name  Smell  So  Sweet? 
A Search  for  Fragrance 

John  H.  Alexander  III 


The  quest  for  all-encompassing  knowledge  of  his  favorite  genus  has  taken  the 
Arboretum's  plant  propagator  down  many  byways.  This  one  required  a cadre  of 
volunteers  and  a high-speed  computer. 


The  perfect  lilac  should  have  flowers  at  eye  and 
nose  level;  the  new  growth  should  not  obscure 
the  flowers;  it  should  sucker  enough  to  replace 
old  stems;  it  should  not  suffer  from  powdery 
mildew  or  leafroll  necrosis;  it  should  be  avail- 
able in  your  favorite  color,  single-  or  double- 
flowered;  and  it  should  be  fragrant!  For  years 
I've  sought  those  perfect  lilacs  and  the  prospec- 
tive parents  of  new  perfect  lilacs.  I've  made 
many  notes  on  flowers  and  collected  years  of 
data  on  the  susceptibility  of  different  cultivars 
to  foliar  diseases,  but  inevitably  the  question 
arises.  Is  it  fragrant? 

It's  a question  I often  hear  when  I'm  recom- 
mending a lilac.  My  usual  response  is,  "I'll  show 
you  the  plant  and  you  can  tell  me."  The  prob- 
lem is  that  I am  not  very  sensitive  to  fragrances. 
I can  usually  detect  them,  but  it  seems  that  my 
olfactories  are  quickly  overwhelmed  by  strong 
fragrances,  and  I am  then  unable  to  differentiate 
or  even  notice  them. 

Wanting  to  fill  out  my  knowledge  of  potential 
lilac  breeding  stocks,  I enlisted  volunteers  to 
sniff  in  my  stead.  It  would  be  a simple,  informal 
survey.  I would  act  as  clerk;  all  these  self- 
proclaimed  "fragrance-oriented"  people  need  do 
was  to  sniff  and  assign  a grade.  We  undertook 
this  task  in  1982  and  again  in  1983.  During 
peak  lilac  bloom,  two  testers  and  I worked  our 
way  through  the  Arnold  Arboretum's  collec- 
tions in  Jamaica  Plain  and,  in  1983,  at  the  Case 
Estates. 

We  began  by  sniffing  a few  lilacs,  including 
Syhnga  pubescens,  which  is  widely  considered 
to  be  one  of  the  most  fragrant,  although  spicier 


than  the  traditional  lilac  fragrance.  We  then 
moved  from  plant  to  plant.  They  sniffed  and 
independently  (without  discussion)  decided  on  a 
rating  from  0 to  3 with  0 having  no  fragrance 
and  3 being  the  maximum.  At  first  I doubted  the 
ability  of  the  testers  and  so  I tested  them,  steer- 
ing them  to  different  plants  of  the  same  cultivar 


26  Arnoldia  1996  Spring 


and  even,  once  or  twice,  repeating  the  very 
same  plant.  Their  ratings  convinced  me  that 
they  could  detect  and  grade  with  consistency. 

The  Results 

The  mean  fragrance  level  of  all  456  samples  was 
1.08.  Of  these,  195  plants  were  sampled  in  1982 
and  261  in  1983.  The  overall  mean  for  1982  was 
0.78  whereas  it  was  1.3  for  1983.  Of  these,  112 
plants  were  sampled  both  years;  the  mean  fra- 
grance level  for  these  was  0.84  for  1982  and 
almost  twice  as  high  in  1983  at  1.48.  Why  the 
difference?  Conjectures  are  many,  but  perhaps 
the  most  plausible  is  that  like  the  taste  of  wines, 
the  fragrance  of  lilacs  is  just  better  some  years. 
Certainly,  few  samples  were  taken  for  most 
cultivars,  and  with  more  years  of  sampling  the 
results  would  be  more  accurate.  1 am  less 
confident  of  the  negative  results  than  the  posi- 
tive; I am  reluctant  to  say  that  lilacs  sampled 
once  or  twice  and  found  not  to  be  fragrant  are 
never  fragrant.  Therefore,  for  the  following 
tables  1 have  selected  lilac  cultivars  that  either 
were  sampled  more  than  once  or  received  higher 
fragrance  scores.  The  latter  are  included  on  the 
conviction  that  a lilac  with  a grading  higher 
than  the  overall  mean  average  can  confidently 
be  considered  fragrant. 


When  complaints  are  made  that  fragrance  has 
been  bred  out  of  lilacs,  it  is  generally  cultivars  of 
Syringa  vulgaris  that  are  targeted.  In  view  of 
that  assertion,  I included  in  our  1982  sampling 
two  specimens  of  S.  vulgaris  that  were  collected 
in  the  wild  in  the  Balkans.  The  testers  gave 
them  grades  of  1 and  0.5  (on  the  scale  of  0 to  3), 
which  combines  to  give  a mean  of  0.75,  a num- 
ber very  close  to  the  overall  mean  for  all  plants 
tested  that  year  (0.84).  Certainly  it's  fair  to  say 
that  the  fragrance  of  these  two  specimens  was 
only  average.  Some  of  the  cultivars  sampled  pos- 
sessed more  fragrance,  just  as  some  had  less. 
Undoubtedly,  the  same  would  be  true  of  indi- 
vidual plants  in  the  wild. 

The  first  table  below  lists  selected  cultivars 
of  the  species  Syringa  vulgaris  and  S.  x 
hyacinthiflora,  which  is  a hybrid  of  S.  vulgaris 
and  the  earlier  blooming  S.  oblata.  Cultivars 
of  S.  vulgaris  and  S.  x hyacinthiflora  look  and 
smell  much  the  same,  the  most  obvious  differ- 
ence being  that  S.  x hyacinthiflora  bloom  earlier 
than  S.  vulgaris,  as  much  as  ten  days  earlier. 

The  fragrances  of  the  species,  hybrids,  and 
cultivars  listed  in  the  second  table,  while 
generally  thought  pleasant,  differ  from  the  hall- 
mark lilac  fragrance.  Instead,  they  are  often 
described  as  spicier  and  more  pungent. 


Table  1 


The  asterisks  mark  cultivars  of  the  hybrid  Syringa  x hyacinthiflora,  which  is  a hybrid  of 

S.  vulgaris  and  the  earlier  blooming  S.  oblata.  All  others  are  cultivars  of  S.  vulgaris. 

A"  X 

Adelaide  Dunbar 

D 

VII 

2 

1 

Boussingault 

D 

V 

1 

2 

Alba  Grandiflora 

S 

I 

2 

0.25 

Buffon* 

S 

V 

2 

1-75 

Alba  Virginalis 

S 

I 

3 

0.5 

C.  B.  VAN  Nes 

S 

VII 

2 

1.25 

Aline  Mocqueris 

s 

VII 

I 

2 

Capitaine  Baltet 

S 

VI 

3 

0.83 

Alphonse  Lavallee 

D 

IV 

3 

1 

Carmen 

D 

V 

2 

0.5 

Assessippi* 

S 

IV 

5 

1.6 

Carmine 

S 

VI 

2 

1-5 

Azurea  Plena 

D 

III 

2 

0.5 

Catinat* 

S 

V 

6 

1-33 

Belle  de  Nancy 

D 

V 

2 

1.25 

Charles  Ioly 

D 

VII 

3 

1.67 

Beranger 

S 

VI 

I 

2 

Charlotte  Morgan 

D 

VI 

2 

1.25 

Berryer* 

D 

V 

2 

1-75 

Christophe  Colomb 

S 

IV 

2 

0.75 

Bleuatre 

S 

III 

2 

1.25 

City  of  Longview 

D 

V 

2 

0.75 

Bountiful 

S 

V 

2 

I 

Claude  de  Lorrain 

S 

V 

2 

0.75 

Lilacs  27 


\0^ 

Cc 

.o'' 

# 

Colbert 

D 

VI 

3 

0.83 

Lamartine* 

S 

V 

4 

1.87 

Comte  Horace 

D 

V 

2 

I 

Laurentian* 

S 

III 

2 

1-75 

DE  Choiseul 

Leon  Simon 

D 

IV 

I 

2 

CONDORCET 

D 

VI 

2 

I 

Linne 

D 

VI 

3 

I 

Congo 

S 

VI 

2 

1-5 

Louis  Henry 

D 

VI 

2 

0.75 

Croix  de  Brahy 

S 

V 

2 

1-75 

Louvois* 

S 

II 

3 

0.83 

Dame  Blanche 

D 

I 

2 

0.5 

Lucie  Baltet 

S 

V 

2 

0.25 

De  Louvain 

S 

V 

2 

I 

Macrostachya 

S 

V 

5 

1.6 

Desfontaines 

D 

VI 

I 

2 

Marechal 

D 

VI 

3 

0.83 

Deuil  d'Emile  Galle 

D 

V 

2 

1.25 

DE  BaSSOMPIERRE 

Diderot 

S 

VII 

2 

0.5 

Marie  Legraye 

S 

I 

3 

0.67 

Diplomate 

S 

III 

4 

0.87 

Marlyensis 

S 

IV 

4 

1-5 

Doyen  Keteleer 

D 

IV 

3 

I 

Marlyensis  Pallida 

S 

IV 

2 

1-33 

Dr.  von  Regel 

S 

V 

3 

I 

Maud  Notcutt 

S 

I 

2 

0.75 

Due  DE  Massa 

D 

III 

2 

I 

Maurice  de  Vilmorin 

D 

IV 

I 

2 

Edouard  Andre 

D 

V 

2 

1.25 

Mechta 

S 

VI 

I 

2 

Ekenholm 

S 

IV 

2 

0.75 

Miss  Ellen  Willmott 

D 

I 

3 

0 

Emil  Liebig 

D 

III 

2 

I 

Mme.  Antoine 

D 

V 

2 

I 

Emile  Gentil 

D 

III 

2 

0.5 

Buchner 

Emile  Lemoine 

D 

IV 

I 

2 

Mme.  Briot 

S 

VI 

2 

0.75 

Esther  Staley* 

S 

VI 

2 

1.25 

Mme.  Gasimir  Perier 

D 

I 

2 

0.75 

Evangeline* 

D 

VI 

5 

2.2 

Mme.  Gatherine 

D 

I 

2 

0.75 

Excel* 

S 

IV 

2 

2 

Bruchet 

Galina  Ulanova 

S 

I 

I 

2 

Mme.  F.  Morel 

S 

VI 

4 

1.25 

General  Sherman 

s 

V 

2 

1.25 

Mme.  Fallieres 

S 

IV 

5 

0.8 

Gigantea 

s 

V 

3 

0.83 

Mme.  Felix 

S 

I 

2 

0.5 

Gloire  de  Moulins 

s 

V 

3 

1-33 

Mme.  Lemoine 

D 

I 

4 

0.25 

Grand-Duc 

D 

III 

2 

I 

Mme.  Leon  Simon 

D 

IV 

I 

1-5 

Constantin 

Monge 

S 

VII 

5 

0.4 

Guizot 

D 

IV 

2 

1.25 

Mons.  Maxime  Gornu 

D 

V 

2 

1.25 

Henri  Martin 

D 

IV 

2 

2.25 

Necker* 

S 

V 

2 

1-5 

Herman  Eilers 

S 

V 

3 

0.83 

Nokomis* 

S 

IV 

2 

I 

Hippolyte  Maringer 

D 

IV 

2 

0.25 

Pascal 

S 

IV 

2 

2-5 

Hugo  Koster 

S 

IV 

2 

0.75 

Paul  Hariot 

D 

VII 

2 

0.75 

Jean  Bart 

D 

V 

2 

1.25 

Philemon 

S 

VII 

2 

0.75 

Jean  Mace 

D 

V 

4 

1.25 

Pink  Gloud* 

S 

VI 

2 

1-75 

Jules  Simon 

D 

III 

I 

2 

Pink  Mist 

S 

V 

2 

I 

JUSTII 

S 

III 

2 

1-5 

Pocahontas* 

s 

VII 

3 

I 

Kapriz 

D 

IV 

I 

1-5 

President  Garnot 

D 

IV 

I 

2 

Katherine  Havemeyer 

D 

V 

4 

1.25 

President  Grevy 

D 

III 

3 

1-33 

key:  flower  type — D:  double;  S:  single 

color — 1:  white;  II:  violet;  III:  blue;  IV:  lilac;  V:  pink;  VI:  magenta;  VII:  purple 


28  Ainoldia  1 996  Spring 


\d^ 

(V 

■0^ 

\0^ 

<L 

0 

President  Lambeau 

s 

V 

I 

2 

Serene 

s 

V 

1 

3 

President  Lincoln 

s 

III 

4 

0.87 

Souvenir  De  Simone 

D 

I 

2 

0.5 

President  Poincare 

D 

VI 

2 

1-75 

Stadtgartner 

D 

VII 

2 

0.75 

President  Roosevelt 

S 

VII 

2 

1-75 

Rothpletz 

Prince  Imperial 

s 

VI 

2 

0.75 

Stefan  Makowiecki 

S 

VI 

3 

0.5 

Prince  Notger 

s 

III 

2 

0.5 

SUMIERKI 

s 

VII 

1 

1-5 

Princesse  Marie 

s 

V 

2 

1.25 

Summer  Skies* 

s 

VI 

1 

2 

Prodige 

s 

VII 

2 

I 

Sunset* 

D 

VI 

2 

I 

Professor  E.  H. 

D 

I 

2 

0.5 

Sweetheart 

D 

VI 

I 

1-5 

Wilson 

Tankman 

D 

V 

2 

0.75 

Pyramidal 

D 

IV 

3 

1.67 

Thunberg 

D 

IV 

2 

1-75 

Pyramidalis  Alba 

s 

I 

2 

0.5 

Triomphe  de  Moulins 

S 

IV 

3 

i 

Reine  Elisabeth 

s 

I 

2 

0.5 

Turgot* 

S 

V 

3 

0.5 

Roi Albert 

s 

VI 

3 

1-33 

Vauban* 

D 

V 

6 

2 

Ronsard 

s 

III 

2 

1.25 

Vestale 

S 

I 

4 

0.75 

Rouge  de  Trianon 

s 

VI 

2 

1.25 

Viviand-Morel 

D 

IV 

I 

2 

Rubella  Plena 

D 

VI 

2 

0.5 

Waldeck-Rousseau 

D 

V 

4 

0.75 

Ruhm  von 

S 

VI 

3 

2 

William  C.  Barry 

S 

IV 

2 

I 

Horstenstein 

William  Robinson 

D 

IV 

2 

0.75 

Senateur  Volland 

D 

VI 

2 

1-5 

Table  2 

X CHINENSIS 

S 

IV 

I 

2 

OBLATA  SUBSP.  OBLATA 

S 

V 

i 

3 

— Bicolor 

s 

I 

I 

2 

— SUBSP.  DILATATA 

s 

V 

3 

0.5 

— Metensis 

s 

I 

2 

2.25 

PUBESCENS  SUBSP. 

s 

IV 

4 

3 

— President  Hayes 

s 

VI 

2 

1-5 

PUBESCENS 

— Red  Rothomagensis 

s 

VI 

2 

2 

— SUBSP.  JULIANAE 

s 

V 

i 

3 

— Saugeana 

s 

VI 

4 

2.25 

— SUBSP.  MICROPHYLLA 

s 

V 

2 

0.5 

MEYERI 

s 

IV 

I 

1-5 

SUPERBA 

For  Further  Information  on  Lilacs 

lohn  H.  Alexander,  III.  1989.  The  Quest  for  the  Perfect  Lilac.  Aznoldia  49(2):  2-7.  This  article  includes  a list  of  the 
fifty  best  lilacs  for  the  gardens  of  New  England  plus  an  additional  ten  favorite  uncommon  lilacs. 

. 1978.  The  Uncommon  Lilacs — Something  Old,  Something  New.  Ainoldia  38(3):  65-81.  This  article  discusses 

some  of  the  less  common  lilacs. 

Acknowledgments 

Thanks  to  testers  Ellen  McFarland,  Molly  Mason,  Michele  Krahmer,  and  Pat  Penfield,  and  to  computer  aides,  the  late 
Leslie  Oliver  and  Richard  Dwight. 


The  fascination  that  lilacs  exert  on  the  Plant  Propagator  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum  appears  to  have  a genetic  compo- 
nent. His  great-grandfather.  The  Dahlia  King  of  East  Bridgewater,  Massachusetts,  raised  lilacs  in  his  commercial 
nursery.  A generation  later,  his  son,  Jack's  grandfather,  proprietor  of  Dahliatown  in  Middleborough,  had  made  lilacs  a 
specialty  of  his  nursery.  Jack  himself  has  long  been  active  in  many  capacities  in  the  International  Lilac  Society,  which 
has  in  turn  bestowed  on  him  their  Director's  Award  and  Award  of  Merit. 


Art  and  Nature  in  a Garden:  Book  Review 


Phyllis  Andersen 


The  Muses  of  Gwinn:  Art  and 
Nature  in  a Garden  Designed  by 
Warren  H.  Manning,  Charles  A. 
Platt  and  Ellen  Biddle  Shipman. 
Robin  Karson.  Sagapress  in 
association  with  The  Library  of 
American  Landscape  History, 
1995.  204  pages.  Hardcover. 
$39.95 


A view  through  the  lilac  arch.  From  The  Muses  of  Gwinn. 


Gwinn,  five  miles  east  of  Cleve- 
land, on  a amphitheatre-like 
bluff  overlooking  the  shores  of 
Lake  Erie,  is  the  result  of  a 
unique  collaboration:  a house 
and  garden  that  involved  the 
design  talents  of  three  of  the 
leading  lights  of  the  American 
country  place  era,  the  architect 
Charles  Platt  (1861-1933)  and 
the  landscape  architects  Warren 
Manning  (1860-1938)  and  Ellen 
Shipman  (1869-1951).  Robin 
Karson,  author  of  Fletcher 
Steele,  Landscape  Architect,  has 
structured  her  book  on  Gwinn 
not  only  to  describe  the  evolu- 
tion of  a beautiful  and  evocative 
landscape  but  to  reveal  the  cre- 
ative process  that  wove  three 
very  different  points  of  view  into 
a coherent  whole. 

Manning,  Platt,  and  Shipman 
— the  Muses  of  Gwinn — would 
have  been  a rather  unruly  lot  without  the  disci- 
plined hand  of  the  client,  William  Mather 
f (1857-1951).  Mather,  whose  fortune  was  based 
on  Great  Lakes  shipping,  had  a consistent  vision 
of  his  country  place  and  like  a true  patron  gave 
his  designers  the  opportunity  to  work  out  their 
ideas  within  a disciplined  framework.  Inspired 
by  travel  and  by  his  indulgence  in  the  collecting 
impulse  that  seems  to  affect  most  estate  build- 


ers, Mather  continued  to  refine  his  view  of 
Gwinn  over  forty  years  and,  to  his  credit,  kept 
his  designers  personally  engaged  with  the  qual- 
ity of  its  effect.  Like  that  of  many  other  found- 
ing families  of  Cleveland,  the  original  Mather 
family  home  was  built  on  Euclid  Avenue.  (In 
1868  Samuel  Clemens  called  it  one  of  the  finest 
streets  in  America!)  In  1905,  at  the  age  of  48, 
Mather  felt  the  need  to  leave  the  city  for  a 


CAROL  BETSCH 


30  Ainoldia  1996  Spring 


Estate  plan  of  Gwinn  showing  home  grounds  and  wild  garden,  9 May  1914. 


■■  G W 1 M M ■■ 

CSTATC"'-  WlLLlAMGMAThEe 
Pc&TcntnL—  Ohio 

PLA/i  rto/An  Gpou/nd5.Wii.dGabdcm 
r’ACM‘'’^‘-‘»®'"‘^!>r:5VICr.Al2EA0’“  h gdalto/^ 


country  house  and  garden  suitable  for  the 
expansive  life  and  entertainments  that  a matur- 
ing fortune  allow^ed.  Role  models  included  John 
D.  Rockefeller  and  his  Cleveland  estate,  Forest 
Hill,  and  the  Cyrus  McCormicks  and  their 
country  home,  Walden,  in  Lake  Forest,  Illinois. 
Mather,  aided  by  his  wife,  Elizabeth  Ireland, 
guided  the  ongoing  design  and  refinement  of 
Gwinn  with  the  firm,  gentlemanly  deportment 
that  characterized  his  business  dealings  and 
philanthropic  endeavors. 

Karson  relates  the  story  of  Gwinn  using  the 
extensive  correspondence  between  Mather  and 
the  designers  (none  were  based  in  Gleveland), 
the  many  extant  historic  plant  lists  and  photo- 


graphs, and  the  extensive  coverage  Gwinn 
received  in  architectural  and  garden  design  pub- 
lications in  the  second  and  third  decades  of  this 
century.  The  subtle  tensions  between  the  for- 
mal and  naturalistic  elements  at  Gwinn  added 
greatly  to  the  quality  of  its  design.  In  her  intro- 
ductory essay,  Karson  reveals  the  artificial 
nature  of  the  intense  polemic  that  pitted  formal 
against  informal  and  permeated  the  writing 
about  architecture  and  garden  design  of  that 
period.  Gurrent  renderings  of  garden  history  can 
also  be  faulted  for  relying  too  strictly  on  this 
dichotomy  (a  legacy  of  art  historical  determin- 
ism) to  categorize  designs.  In  detailing  its  his- 
toric roots,  Karson  notes  that  the  argument 


COURTESY  OF  GWINN  ARCHIVES 


Book  Review  31 


gained  momentum  in  the  late  nineteenth  cen- 
tury when  the  work  and  ideas  of  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted,  who  extolled  the  cultural  and  environ- 
mental superiority  of  the  pastoral  landscape, 
were  pitted  against  the  theories  of  beaux-arts 
trained  designers  who  were  committed  to  a 
deliberate  symmetry  that  tightly  controlled  the 
house  and  garden  spaces.  The  Olmsted  legacy 
was  championed  well  into  the  twentieth  cen- 
tury by  Manning,  Jens  Jensen,  Wilhelm  Miller, 
and,  most  visibly,  by  the  writings  of  Mariana 
Van  Rensselaer  and  J.  Horace  McFarland.  The 
formalist  camp  was  filled  with  architects: 
McKim,  Mead  and  White,  William  Welles 
Bosworth  (the  architect  of  the  M.I.T  campus), 
Charles  Platt.  One  of  the  most  influential 
among  the  latter  was  Guy  Lowell,  the  architect 
and  son-in-law  of  Charles  Sprague  Sargent. 
Lowell's  book,  American  Gardens  (1902),  traced 
the  history  of  the  formal  garden  and  highlighted 
such  showplaces  as  the  Platt-designed  Faulkner 
Farm  in  Brookline,  Massachusetts.  Gwinn 
was  clearly  admired  for  its  blend  of  the  two 
approaches  by  designers  who  chose  not  to 
take  sides. 

Karson  then  gives  brief  biographical  studies  of 
the  three  designers.  Here  she  draws  on  a recent 
confluence  of  biographical  work  already  com- 
pleted by  other  scholars,  confining  her  descrip- 
tions to  facts  relevant  to  their  work  at  Gwinn. 
Charles  Platt,  whose  career  has  been  docu- 
mented by  Keith  Morgan  in  Charles  A.  Platt: 
the  Artist  as  Architect,  1985,  is  described 
through  his  country  house  work.  Ellen 
Shipman,  whose  work  is  soon  to  be  available 
in  a forthcoming  book  by  Judith  Tankard  (The 
Gardens  of  Ellen  Biddle  Shipman),  is  given 
credit  for  her  extensive  residential  work  both  in 
concert  with  architects  and  as  an  independent 
designer.  Warren  Manning  produced  a signifi- 
cant body  of  work  that  spanned  two  generations 
of  landscape  architectural  practice.  He  is  the 
the  only  figure  in  this  group  still  lacking  a full 
biographical  treatment.* 

From  his  early  association  with  the  office  of 
Frederick  Law  Olmsted  to  his  estate  design 
work  in  New  England  and  the  Midwest  and 


on  to  his  innovative  work  in  environmental 
planning,  which  predated  Ian  McHarg's  design- 
with-nature  methodology  by  some  sixty  years. 
Manning  was  a important  figure  who  connected 
the  worlds  of  ornamental  horticulture,  planting 
design,  and  town  planning.  Like  Olmsted's,  the 
Manning  office  operated  an  apprentice  program 
that  nurtured  the  careers  of  many  young  land- 
scape architects.  Some,  like  Fletcher  Steele  and 
Dan  Kiley,  would  go  on  to  form  the  core  of  a 
modernist  approach  to  landscape  design. 

The  Gwinn  complex  centered  on  the  house 
designed  by  Charles  Platt  in  the  Italian  villa  for- 
mat he  adapted  so  well  for  American  clients.  He 
tied  the  house  to  the  dramatic  site  by  a series  of 
terraces  and  stairs  and  by  a long  curving  seawall. 
Platt  was  also  responsible  for  the  structure  of 
the  formal  garden,  for  its  geometric  relation- 
ships, its  ornaments,  and  its  controlled  views. 
Manning,  who  was  brought  into  the  process 
early  to  consult  on  site  selection  and  later 
returned  to  consult  on  planting  design,  became, 
in  fact,  a full  partner.  He  and  Platt  agreed  on  the 
selection  of  the  site,  a sheltered  cove  with  a 
spectacular  view  of  Lake  Erie.  Manning  evalu- 
ated the  existing  vegetation,  a not  very  promis- 
ing community  of  elm,  beech,  and  maples  on 
poor  clay  soil.  He  worked  with  Platt  on  the 
planting  of  the  formal  garden.  Through  what 
Karson  calls  "dialogues,"  Manning  and  Platt 
proved  that  planting  design  is  not  incidental  to 
architecture  but  integral  to  forming  the  charac- 
ter of  a garden.  The  correspondence  to  the  client 
from  Platt,  the  refined  New  York-based  archi- 
tect with  European  training  ("Platt  is  all  taste"), 
and  from  Manning,  the  nurseryman's  son  from 
Reading,  Massachusetts,  who  trained  through 
apprenticeship,  is  very  revealing  of  their  back- 
grounds and  training.  Mather's  responses  in 
mediating  a solution  between  two  slightly 
diverging  views  is  a lesson  for  all  clients  of  large 
projects.  Karson  suggests  that  the  creative  ten- 
sion between  the  two  designers  resulted  in  some 
of  the  most  refined  parts  of  the  landscape,  espe- 
cially in  the  transition  zones  between  formal 
and  natural — in  the  main  drive  with  its  double 
row  of  American  elms  underplanted  with  a 


* For  the  best  treatment  of  Manning's  life  and  work,  see  Lance  Neckar,  "Developing  Landscape  Architecture  for 
the  Twentieth  Century:  The  Career  of  Warren  Manning,"  Landscape  Journal  8 (Fall  1989):  78-91. 


32  Arnoldia  1996  Spring 


continuous  mass  of  Viburnum  dentatum  and  in 
the  lilac  arch  that  created  a boundary  between 
the  formal  garden  and  the  lawn. 

Manning's  great  contribution  to  Gwinn  were 
the  wild  gardens,  the  first  a small  bosque  adja- 
cent to  the  formal  garden  and  the  second  created 
out  of  twenty-one  additional  acres  across  Lake 
Shore  Boulevard  purchased  by  Mather  in  1912 
with  a view  to  developing  it  as  "a  species  of  wild 
garden."  The  irony,  of  course,  is  that  the  wild 
gardens  were  not  wild  at  all,  but  plantings  care- 
fully manipulated  by  Manning,  whose  knowl- 
edge of  plant  communities  can  be  dated  to  his 
youthful  botanizing  and  to  his  work  on  the 
Flora  of  Middlesex  County  (1888).  The  dense 
plantings,  replaced  and  realigned  over  the  years, 
featured  masses  of  rhododendrons,  wildflowers, 
and  ferns.  Mather  used  his  Great  Lakes  steam- 
ers to  transport  crates  and  crates  of  wildflowers 
from  the  upper  peninsula  of  Michigan  to  Cleve- 
land (iron  ore  and  violets  as  Karson  puts  it). 

Ellen  Shipman  was  brought  in  as  a planting 
consultant  for  the  formal  garden  in  1914  and 
again  in  the  1930s  and  1940s.  She  produced  her 
characteristic  lush  and  dramatic  planting  plans, 
captured  here  in  period  photographs.  Like  much 
of  Shipman's  work  with  herbaceous  plants 
(which  are  so  vulnerable  to  change),  her 
plantings  at  Gwinn  are  no  longer  extant.  How- 
ever, her  extensive  plant  lists  and  nursery  orders 
are  in  the  Gwinn  archive,  making  restoration 
possible.  To  Karson's  great  credit  she  not  only 
documents  the  work  of  the  designers  but  that  of 
the  gardeners  as  well.  Gwinn's  first  superinten- 
dent, George  facques,  born  and  trained  in 
England,  played  an  important  part  in  the 


gardenmaking  process.  When  facques  died  in 
1923,  Lillie  Jacques,  George's  daughter,  was 
hired  on  Mannings'  recommendation  and 
became  the  only  woman  garden  superintendent 
in  the  world  and  the  only  female  member  of 
the  American  Gardeners'  Association.  She 
continued  her  work  on  the  estate  until  the 
mid- 1930s. 

As  someone  who  grew  up  in  Cleveland  (albeit 
on  the  banks  of  the  Cuyahoga  River  rather  than 
the  shores  of  Lake  Erie),  I have  a distinct  picture 
of  Gwinn  in  my  mind's  eye  despite  never  having 
been  there.  The  famous  fountain  terrace  was 
photographed  so  often  by  the  local  press  as 
the  site  of  social  and  cultural  events  that 
Clevelanders  came  to  identify  the  term  "garden 
party"  with  Gwinn.  Mather  died  at  Gwinn  in 
1951  at  the  age  of  ninety-three.  His  widow, 
Elizabeth,  died  in  1957.  Before  her  death  she 
made  arrangements  for  Gwinn  to  become  a 
small  conference  center  for  nonprofit  activities. 
Hence  Gwinn  made  the  transition  from  private 
to  semipublic  use  almost  forty  years  ago.  The 
integrity  of  the  garden  has  been  preserved 
although  some  of  the  more  labor  intensive  parts 
are  no  longer  in  their  original  form.  Karson 
began  this  work  as  a case  study  to  guide  the 
present  staff  through  their  preservation  activi- 
ties. As  a case  study  the  book  is  a great  success, 
but  it  is  more  than  this:  because  of  the  vividness 
with  which  the  story  is  told,  Karson  renders 
Gwinn  as  a living  entity — not  just  another  icon 
in  the  history  of  American  gardenmaking. 


Phyllis  Andersen  is  Landscape  Historian  at  the  Arnold 
Arhoretum. 


The  Cottonwood  Vista  (Populus  monilifera)  in  the  “wild  garden"  at  Gwinn,  on  Lake  Erie  near  Cleveland, 

ca.  1930.  Photograph  courtesy  of  Gwinn  Archives. 


M,S, 

HI. 8 


SEP  1 9 1996 


GRAY  HERBARIUM 


amoldia 

Volume  56  Number  2 1996 

Amoldia  (ISBN  004-2633;  USPS  866-100)  is 
published  quarterly  by  the  Arnold  Arboretum  of 
Harvard  University.  Second-class  postage  paid  at 
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Phyllis  Andersen 
Robert  E.  Cook 
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Stephen  A.  Spongherg 

Amoldia  is  set  in  Trump  Mediaeval  typeface. 

Copyright  © 1996.  The  President  and  Fellows  of 
Harvard  College 


Page 

2 Fairsted;  A Landscape  as  Olmsted's 
Looking  Glass 
Mac  Griswold 

21  Plan  for  a Small  Homestead  (1888) 
Frederick  Law  Olmsted 

26  Notes  on  Restoring  the  Woody  Plants 
at  Fairsted 
Lauren  Meier 

32  'Rose  Lantern':  A New 

Cultivar  of  Koelreuteria  paniculata, 
the  Golden-Rain  Tree 
Frank  S.  Santamour,  Jr.,  and 
Stephen  A.  Spongherg 

38  Dugout  Canoes,  Arrow  Poisons,  and  the 
Cure  for  Cancer:  Book  Review 
Todd  Forrest 

Front  cover:  The  tranquil,  vine-covered  face  of 
Fairsted,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted's  Brookline  home 
and  office  from  1883  to  his  retirement  in  1895,  is 
shaded  today  by  the  same  American  elm  as  when  he 
purchased  the  property.  Photograph  by  John  Furlong. 

Inside  front  cover:  The  papery,  rosy-red  seed  capsules 
of  Koelreuteria  paniculata  'Rose  Lantern'  are  produced 
in  great  numbers  in  the  tree's  large  infructescences. 
These  three-parted  capsules  develop  quickly  once 
flowering  has  come  to  an  end  toward  the  middle  of 
September.  Photograph  by  Peter  Del  Tredici. 

Inside  back  cover:  This  recent  photograph  looking 
out  the  circular  drive  to  Fairsted's  entry  arch  captures 
some  of  the  diversity,  lushness,  even  mystery  of 
plants  as  Olmsted  used  them.  Photograph  by  John 
Furlong. 

Back  cover:  The  mixture  of  vines — Wisteria, 
Parthenocissus,  and,  possibly,  Hedera  helix,  have 
completely  enveloped  the  southeastern  side  of 
Fairsted,  with  only  the  shutters  avoiding  obliteration. 
Photograph  by  Theodora  Kimball,  c.  1904.  Courtesy 
of  the  National  Park  Service,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted 
National  Historic  Site. 


COURTESY  OF  THE  NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE,  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE 


Fairsted 

A Landscape  as  Olmsted's 
Looking  Glass 

Mac  Griswold 


Fairsted,  in  Brookline,  Massachusetts,  was 
Frederick  Law  Olmsted's  home  and  office  from 
the  peak  of  his  career  in  1883  to  his  retirement 
in  1895.  Olmsted  is  often  called  "the  father  of 
American  landscape  architecture,"  and  Fairsted 
is  the  place  where,  for  the  first  time,  he  was  able 
to  create  a permanent  family  residence  and 
office  for  himself  in  surroundings  he  found 
ideal:  an  old  farmhouse  in  a small  rural  (or  rural- 
seeming)  community.  The  grounds  he  laid  out 
were  divided  between  office  and  home  use,  with 
business  on  the  north  and  east,  and  residential 
to  the  south  and  west. 

As  an  example  of  a residential  office  in  the 
profession  of  landscape  architecture,  Fairsted 
stands  alone,  a unique  survivor.  Olmsted  Broth- 
ers, the  successor  firm,  headed  by  Olmsted's 
two  sons,  was  the  largest  and  most  important 
one  in  the  nation  for  the  first  half  of  the  twenti- 
eth century.  Consequently,  even  the  minor 
changes  that  were  made  in  the  office  side  of  the 
landscape  shed  light  on  stylistic  changes  within 
the  firm  throughout  its  most  important  years 
(1900-1939),  as  well  as  changes  in  the  status  of 
the  profession. 

On  the  other  hand,  because  much  of  the  resi- 
dential landscape  has  been  altered  only  by 
growth  and  neglect,  Fairsted  still  reveals  much 
of  Olmsted's  character  and  lyrical  talent  in  its 
design  and  plantings.  Fairsted  is  also  deeply 


Light  and  air — among  Olmsted’s  chief  requirements 
for  healthy,  happy  homes — were  abundant  at 
Fairsted.  Shutters  and  vines  insulate  effectively 
against  summer  heat  while  awnings  protect  the 
conservatory  and  side  door.  To  the  left  is  the 
domestic  end  of  the  house,  with  a laundry  yard 
screened  by  shrubs.  The  1904  photograph’s  lush  but 
low  foreground  plantings  actually  screen  a stone 
wall  that  separates  the  Olmsted  lawn  from  the 
neighbor’s  bucolic  pasture. 


4 Arnoldia  1996  Summer 


interesting  because  it  embodies  many  of  his 
most  cherished  residential  landscape  ideas. 

Olmsted  always  held  that  the  contemplation 
of  quiet  pastoral  scenery — a passive,  non- 
authoritarian, and  beautiful  presence — was 
therapeutic.  It  encouraged  people  to  become 
civilized,  to  develop  that  "combination  of  quali- 
ties which  fit  [a  man]  to  serve  others  and  to  be 
served  by  others  in  the  most  intimate,  complete 
and  extend[ed]  degree  imaginable."^  Even 
the  most  modest  home  landscape  could  induce 
"a  quiescent  and  cheerfully  musing  state  of 
mind"  where  "the  eye  is  not  drawn  to  dwell 
upon,  nor  the  mind  to  be  occupied  with, 
details."^  Fairsted's  modest  but  considered 
"rurality"  (Olmsted's  word  for  abundant  nature 
held  serenely  and  productively  in  check  by 
man)  conveys  this  mid-nineteenth-century 
suburban  ideal. 

By  the  time  Olmsted  moved  permanently  to 
Brookline  in  1881  (where  at  first  the  family 
rented  a house),  he  was  both  a wide-ranging 
intellectual  and  a truly  effective  activist.  His 
urban  parks,  the  works  for  which  he  is  best 
known,  gave  reality  to  what  has  been  called  a 
utilitarian  transcendentalism.  They  were  to 
be  restorative,  both  for  the  individual  and  the 
crowd,  especially  through  the  power  of  "uncon- 
scious recreation."^  He  also  intended  them  to  be 
democratic,  bringing  different  classes  together 
harmoniously.  This  concept,  which  resonates 
with  Emersonian  thought,  was  set  apart  by 
Olmsted  as  the  highest  value  scenery  could 
afford.  His  suburban  planning,  though  intended 
only  for  an  upper  middle-class  elite,  was  also 
intended  to  offer  restorative  powers  but  in  a 
residential  setting. 

Finding  Brookline 

Olmsted  had  moved  to  Brookline  because  he 
found  work  in  the  Boston  area  which  interested 
him,  and  he  had  a wide  circle  of  congenial 
friends  and  colleagues  there.  Chief  among  them 
was  the  architect  Henry  Hobson  Richardson. 
Richardson,  who  lived  in  Brookline  himself, 
urged  Olmsted  to  settle  there  when  he  began  his 
large-scale  work  on  the  Arnold  Arboretum,  the 
first  portion  of  Boston's  park  system,  which  he 
designed  in  the  late  1870s.  The  deciding  factor 
for  Olmsted  was  the  rural  yet  progressive  atmo- 


sphere that  he  found  so  civilized,  an  atmosphere 
fostered  by  the  same  intellectual  ideas  he  had 
found  compelling  as  a young  man.  It  seemed 
very  different  from  the  corrupt  and  money- 
grubbing  New  York  City  Olmsted  was  leaving 
with  relief;  a city  which,  as  he  saw  it,  was  inca- 
pable of  wholehearted  civic  effort. 

The  Brookline  that  Olmsted  observed  was  a 
template  for  the  suburbs  he  wished  to  create. 
The  town  had  transformed  itself  from  conserva- 
tive agricultural  village  to  liberal  suburb  with- 
out losing  its  character  or  intimacy.''  For  him, 
it  stood  as  proof  positive  that  well-planned  sub- 
urban communities  could  accommodate  change 
and  stress,  could  benefit  the  cities  of  which  they 
were  a vital  part.  If  the  great  nineteenth-century 
moral  and  social  question  of  how  to  reconcile 
idealism  and  materialism,  family  and  commu- 
nity, rural  and  urban  values,  could  thus  be 
answered  in  Brookline,  why  could  it  not  be 
answered  in  every  planned  community  in 
America? 

Brookline's  transformation  had  been  speeded 
by  the  mass  arrival  of  Boston's  rich  merchants 
as  summer  residents  beginning  in  the  1820s — an 
odd  variation  on  Brookline's  settlement  history 
as  a summer  pasture  for  livestock!  Over  the 
next  fifty  years,  many  of  these  summer  resi- 
dences became  elaborate  gentlemen's  farms, 
supported  by  their  owners'  large  city  incomes. 
By  comparison,  life  at  Fairsted  was  modest  and 
some  of  its  immediate  surroundings  were  redo- 
lent of  an  older,  simpler  order.  At  the  nearby 
corner  of  Walnut  and  Warren  Streets,  a triangu- 
lar green  marked  the  earliest  center  of  the  town, 
which  once  held  a schoolhouse  (1713),  Congre- 
gational meetinghouse  (1715),  and  cemetery 
(1717).  But  the  population  center  shifted  when 
Brookline  Avenue  opened  in  1821,  and  by  the 
1880s  the  Walnut  and  Warren  neighborhood 
was  largely  residential — only  the  green,  and  a 
new,  fashionable  Unitarian  church  on  the  site, 
remained  to  mark  the  spot's  older  civic  history. 

Olmsted  bought  a "farmstead"  of  two  acres: 
like  many  Brookline  "farms,"  it  produced  only 
orchard  fruit,  firewood,  and  a little  summer 
grass  for  cattle.  Nineteenth-century  atlases 
show  the  hundred-and-more  acre  properties  of 
Boston  Brahmin  families  cheek  by  jowl  with 
residences  the  size  of  Fairsted  or  smaller.® 


Fairsted  5 


Unflattering  family  pictures  can  shed  light  on  family  dynamics.  Here,  Mary  Perkins  Olmsted,  in  checks, 
dominates  a fuly  1885  gathering  at  Fairsted.  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  Sr.,  looks  attentively  out  from  behind 
her.  At  left  stands  John  Charles,  Mary's  oldest  child  and  Olmsted’s  partner  and  righthand  man,  caught  in  a 
blink  that  unwittingly  illustrates  his  retiring  character.  Marion,  the  spinster  daughter  who  never  left  home,  is 
at  far  right,  while  two  unidentified  women  complete  the  group.  Missing  is  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  Jr.,  then 
fifteen  years  old  and  known  as  “Rick.  ” 


Though  many  were  tenant  houses  belonging 
to  the  larger  neighbors,  such  a wide  range  of 
adjoining  property  sizes  also  reflected  a hierar- 
chy of  income  that  must  have  seemed  attrac- 
tively democratic  to  Olmsted. 

The  Olmsted  Family 

Olmsted  arrived  with  his  wife  of  twenty-four 
years,  the  tiny,  doughty,  acid-tongued,  compe- 
tent Mary,  who  would  live  to  be  ninety-one,  and 
with  three  of  their  seven  children.  John  Charles, 
aged  thirty-one,  and  Marion,  aged  twenty-two, 
were  both  Olmsted's  stepchildren,-  Frederick, 
thirteen  years  old,  was  Olmsted's  only  biologi- 
cal son  and  the  apple  of  his  father's  eye.  Marion 
would  live  at  home  all  her  life,  a victim  of 
Victorian  spinsterhood  and  her  own  nervous 
temperament.^  Frederick  would  become  his 


father's  most  trusted  colleague  and  confidant  in 
the  years  just  before  Olmsted's  retirement  in 
1895,  when  failing  mental  abilities  hastened 
Olmsted's  retirement.  Frederick  would  inherit 
Fairsted  on  his  mother's  death  in  1921. 

John  Charles  was  already  the  firm's  office 
manager  and  a partner  (1884)  in  the  earliest 
Fairsted  years.  In  photographs  he  is  short, 
delicate-featured,  bespectacled,  serious,  and 
reticent-seeming  to  the  point  of  remoteness. 
Because  Olmsted  Sr.  traveled  on  business  so 
extensively  during  the  1880s,  it  is  John  Charles 
who  is  credited  with  actually  transforming  the 
threadbare  sketch  of  a farm  into  a place  that 
looked  like  an  illustration  from  the  most  influ- 
ential treatise  on  picturesque  home  landscape  in 
the  nineteenth  century,  A.  J.  Downing's  Theory 
and  Practice  of  Landscape  Gardening.'^  How- 


THE  JOHN  CHARLES  OLMSTED  COLLECTION,  FRANCES  LOEB  LIBRARY, 
GRADUATE  SCHOOL  OF  DESIGN,  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY. 


NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE,  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE. 


6 Ainoldia  1 996  Summer 


The  1904  survey  by  White  eD  Wetherbee,  Civil  Engineers,  accurately  indicates  the  final  footprint  of  both  home  and 
office,  as  well  as  the  location  of  the  different  landscape  features. 


A.  Hollow 

B.  East  office  entrance 

C.  Front  door 

D.  Entrance  arch  St  circular  drive 

E.  Cucumber  magnolia 

F.  Rock  garden 

G.  Conservatory 


H.  American  elm 

I.  South  lawn 

J.  West  slope 

K.  Garden;  after  1926,  parking  lot 

L.  Office  courtyard 

M.  Laundry  yard 

N.  1880s  cutting  garden  St  coldframes 


Fairsted  7 


ever,  because  John  Charles 
lived  at  home  there  are  few 
written  records  about  the  malc- 
ing  of  Fairsted's  landscape,  as 
he  and  his  stepfather  quite 
naturally  talked  it  over  instead. 

From  what  Olmsted  wrote 
about  the  physical  and  emo- 
tional benefits  of  well-designed 
landscapes,  both  public  and  pri- 
vate, and  from  the  lists  of  out- 
door practices  that  nineteenth- 
century  women's  household 
management  and  gardening 
books  prescribe,  one  can  begin 
to  reconstruct  how  this  family 
and  their  servants  used  their 
tiny  green  haven.  We  can  as- 
sume that  residential  Fairsted 
was  intended  for  quiet  pas- 
times, not  sports,  and  for  the 
kinds  of  outdoor  household 
work  and  garden  production 
common  at  the  time. 

We  can  also  assume  that  the 
south  and  west,  or  residential, 
sides  were  used  mostly  by 
the  women  of  the  family,  since 
their  lives  were  so  much 
more  homebound  than  those 
of  Olmsted  or  his  sons  and 
employees.  Sitting  for  contem- 
plation or  for  reading  aloud  to 
children,  walking  for  health, 
light  gardening,  with  a male 
gardener  to  help  with  the 
heavy  tasks,  painting  to  elevate 
the  mind,  all  were  some  of 
the  outdoor  activities  recom- 
mended for  women  by  educator 
Catherine  Beecher  and  garden 
writer  Jane  Loudon.  (The  works 
of  both  women  were  widely  cir- 
culated, both  in  serial  and  in 
hook  form.)* 

Where  would  such  activities 
have  taken  place?  Although  no 
actual  description  exists,  there 
are  some  clues  in  planting  as 
well  as  design.  A friendly,  flow- 


By  1885,  when  the  sixty-yeai-old  Olmsted  stood  in  the  winteiy 
landscape  of  Faiisted,  he  had  completed  projects  such  as  Central  Park 
and  Riverside  in  Chicago  that  became  national  models.  In  his  remaining 
years  in  Brookline  his  office  would  carry  out  hundreds  of  projects,  among 
which  the  most  influential  were  the  Boston  park  system  (begun  1878), 
Stanford  University  campus  (1886-1891),  and  the  World’s  Columbian 
Exhibition  (1888-1893). 

His  nephew,  stepson,  and  partner,  fohn  Charles  Olmsted, 
photographed  him  in  the  Hollow,  Fairsted’s  sunken  garden,  against  a 
rugged  outcrop  of  Brookline’s  characteristic  sedimentary  rock,  Roxbury 
puddingstone.  The  ledge  defines  the  shape  of  the  little  garden  as  well 
as  the  local  context. 


THE  JOHN  CHARLES  OLMSTED  COLLECTION,  FRANCES  LOEB  LIBRARY,  GRADUATE  SCHOOL  OF  DESIGN,  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 


NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE,  FREDERICK  1 AW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE 


8 Arnoldia  1996  Summer 


John  Charles’  1900  winter  view  from  the  second  story  of  the  house  surveys  Fairsted’s  entrance  gate  and  drive 
turnaround.  Wild-looking  plantings,  which  screen  out  Warren  Street  and  yet  harmonize  with  the  natural 
growth  on  the  rocky  ridge  beyond,  carry  out  Olmsted’s  residential  ideal:  to  offer  both  domestic  privacy  and 
unity  with  the  larger  landscape  and  the  community. 


ery  little  area  lay  just  around  the  corner  to  the 
west  of  the  conservatory  on  the  south  front.  It 
was  tucked  into  the  sunny  angle  between  the 
laundry  yard  lattice  fence  and  the  path  that  led 
to  the  production  area  of  Fairsted;  the  original 
flower  garden  and  cold  frames  (west  of  the  barn 


and  parallel  to  it),  and  the  vegetable  garden.  (The 
locations  of  both  the  flower  garden  and  the  veg- 
etable garden  were  changed  at  least  once;  they 
eventually  were  merged  together  in  the  enclo- 
sure which  in  1926  became  the  firm's  parking 
lot.)  This  little  area,  close  to  but  not  part  of  the 


Fairsted  9 


service  end  of  the  house,  was  planted  with 
shrubs  such  as  deutzia,  weigela,  rose  of  sharon, 
lilac — all  familiar  creatures  of  the  New  England 
dooryard  garden,  the  traditional  domain  of 
women.  These  plants,  with  the  exception  of 
lilac,  are  not  seen  elsewhere  at  Fairsted  in  the 
early  years. 

This  end  of  the  lawn,  bright,  protected  from 
the  wind  by  the  bulk  of  the  house  and  from 
intrusion  by  its  distance  from  the  street,  would 
have  had  a particularly  domestic  and  private 
atmosphere.  It  combined  the  old-fashioned 
floweriness  so  often  associated  with  women 
with  proximity  to  the  household  end  of  the 
building.  The  conservatory,  which  is  located 
towards  the  west  end  of  the  house  and  whose 
large  glass  panes  command  a view  of  almost  the 
entire  south  landscape,  would  have  been  the 
closest  position  for  overseeing  the  kitchen  areas 
and  the  working  gardens  to  the  west — the 
household  "engine,"  and  traditionally  the 
"business  side"  of  the  house  for  women.  Simi- 
larly, the  presence  of  a door  to  the  drafting 
rooms  and  the  use  of  the  house  front  door  to 
enter  the  partners'  office  might  be  said  to  mark 
the  east  entrance  front  as  the  "men's  side." 

Together  with  the  continuous  stretch  of  lawn 
which  curled  around  the  south  front  and  gave 
onto  the  entrance  drive  circle,  the  rock  garden 
was  the  landscape  attraction  that  linked  the 
south  and  east  exposures.  Where  the  lawn  is 
expansive,  a place  to  walk  companionably  or  to 
pull  out  chairs  to  sit  in  the  fresh  air,  the  rock 
garden  seems  intended  for  more  solitary  pur- 
poses. Its  paths  are  narrow  for  two  abreast  and 
were  originally  screened  from  the  lawn  by 
plantings,  many  of  them  evergreen.  One  can 
imagine  this  was  a place  for  private,  contempla- 
tive strolls,  both  for  the  family  and  members  of 
the  office  staff.  Here  the  eye  could  rest  absent- 
mindedly  on  an  embroidery  of  groundcovers, 
and  on  the  details  of  lichen-  and  moss-covered 
rock,  patterns  as  abstract  as  thought  itself. 

The  Office 

Olmsted's  first  office  improvement  to  the  exist- 
ing structures  was  very  simple:  in  1884,  at  the 
same  time  that  other  changes  were  made  to  his 
new  dwelling,  he  added  about  ten  feet  to  the 
north  parlor  of  the  farmhouse  to  accommodate 


a long  drafting  table.  Later  office  enlargements 
slowly  extended  the  north  end  of  the  house  even 
farther  toward  Dudley  Street,  in  workmanlike 
angular  increments  that  fit  in  nicely  with  an  old 
barn  that  had  been  joined  to  the  rear  of  the 
house  sometime  in  the  eighties.  By  1904  the 
final  footprint  was  complete. 

For  more  than  fifteen  years  (until  Harvard 
founded  the  first  formal  training  program  in 
1900),  the  home  office  at  Fairsted  was  effec- 
tively the  only  school  of  landscape  design  in 
America,  providing  practical  experience  in 
design  and  execution,  urban  planning,  and  hor- 
ticulture. Every  landscape  vignette  at  Fairsted 
can  be  seen  as  a miniature  version  of  some 
larger  idea  of  Olmsted's:  for  instance,  the  rock 
garden  is  reminiscent  of  Central  Park's  Ramble. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  trace  exactly  how  these 
surroundings  influenced  the  work  of  firm  mem- 
bers, but  all  of  them  doubtless  absorbed  some- 
thing of  Fairsted's  essence,  whether  they  stayed 
with  the  firm  or  set  up  independent  practice. 
Echoes  of  Fairsted's  quiet,  shaggy,  green  imagery 
resonate  in  many  of  their  works.  Warren 
Manning's  quarry  garden  at  Stan  Hywet,  in 
Akron,  Ohio,  and  Percival  Gallagher's  ravine 
garden  at  what  is  now  the  Indianapolis  Museum 
of  Fine  Art  both  seem  like  variations  on  the 
Hollow,  the  signature  sunken  wild  garden  at 
the  Fairsted  front  entrance  turnaround.  Besides 
enjoying  the  best  design  apprenticeship,  young 
staff  members  also  found  themselves  in  one  of 
the  horticultural  and  botanical  centers  of  the 
nation.  Less  than  five  minutes'  walk  up  Warren 
Street  lay  Holm  Lea,  Charles  Sprague  Sargent's 
estate  filled  with  botanical  introductions  from 
afar.  The  Arnold  Arboretum,  directed  by 
Sargent,  was  located  in  neighboring  Jamaica 
Plain,  and  not  much  farther  away  were  the 
Cambridge  Botanic  Garden  of  Harvard  Univer- 
sity, Mount  Auburn  Cemetery,  and  the  Boston 
Public  Garden,  all  rich  with  horticultural  col- 
lections. Reports  of  what  was  in  bloom  on  a 
single  day  at  any  one  of  these  places  sometimes 
ran  to  fifty  plants.^ 

Olmsted's  Ideals  Embodied  at  Fairsted 

Olmsted's  career  was  fueled  by  an  optimism 
about  human  progress,  but  a guarded  optimism. 
He  looked  to  what  were  then  progressive  ideas: 


10  Ainoldia  1996  Summer 


fresh  air,  sanitation,  new  transportation  meth- 
ods, and  contact  with  what  he  called  "Nature," 
to  preserve  or  restore  the  values  of  an  older,  van- 
ishing society  in  a larger,  more  urban,  more 
complex  world.  He  looked  back  in  time  to  the 
small  town,  in  memory  a golden  Hartford,  Con- 
necticut, where  he  had  grown  up  in  the  first  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  in  what  was  then  the 
new  republic,  before  the  Civil  War  and  the  tur- 
moil that  accompanied  industrialization.  The 
"communitiveness,"  as  he  called  it,  of  that 
tight-webbed  life  of  shared  values  and  efforts, 
which  at  the  same  time  respected  the  indi- 
vidual, was  his  ideal. For  him,  social  engineer- 
ing to  create  on  a larger  scale  that  healthy, 
thoughtful,  neighborly  state  of  mind  began  with 
the  wise  design  of  public  space,  which  in  turn 
was  rooted  in  the  design  of  the  home  and  its  sur- 
roundings. Air,  light,  orderliness,  beauty,  and 
easy  access  to  the  outdoors  were  all  part  of  his 
program  for  domestic  life. 

Olmsted's  often-repeated  desire  to  blend  resi- 
dential design  into  the  larger  surrounding  while 
still  preserving  privacy  emerges  at  Fairsted.  It 
was  to  be  a part  of  the  town  in  its  apparent  open- 
ness, but  also  a family  retreat.  Two  design 
elements  ensured  that  this  double  purpose  was 
served.  The  choice  of  a spruce  pole  fence  to 
encircle  the  property  was  one  such  element. 
Sinuous,  malleable,  cut  to  fit  over  every  root 
and  rock  it  traversed,  and  made  of  the  rustic, 
natural  materials  Olmsted  preferred,  the  fence 
is  airy,  a screen  rather  than  a wall,  because  the 
poles  don't  fit  together  tightly.  The  front 
entrance  creates  the  impression  of  openness 
while  actually  preventing  the  passerby  from  see- 
ing in.  The  arching  driveway  gate  piled  with 
vines  is  welcoming,  but  the  little  turnaround 
mound  directly  within,  topped  with  a tree 
whose  root  crevices  still  sprout  jack-in-the- 
pulpits  in  spring,  hides  the  front  door  almost 
until  the  visitor  arrives. 

Interpreting  Design 

The  design  of  residential  landscape  changed  dra- 
matically between  the  time  that  Olmsted  cre- 
ated the  Fairsted  landscape — the  1880s — and  the 
period  to  which  it  is  now  being  restored — the 
late  1920s.  The  shift  can  be  measured  by  com- 
paring Fairsted  with  the  landscapes  made  during 


the  teens  and  twenties  by  the  firm,  as  well  as 
by  other  contemporary  practitioners,  such  as 
Charles  Platt,  Albert  Davis  Taylor,  or  Ellen 
Shipman.  In  those  fifty  years,  the  American  eco- 
nomic climate  changed  enormously,  and  with  it 
the  taste  of  the  firm's  residential  clientele,  who 
were  the  rich  and  influential,  many  of  them 
newly  rich.  They  traveled  frequently  to  Europe, 
and  they  read  magazines  such  as  House  &)  Gar- 
den (first  published  in  1901)  and  House  Beauti- 
ful (1896),  whose  only  subject  was  the  life  they 
could  enjoy  with  their  wealth.  Photographs  in 
these  mass  magazines  promoted  the  use  of  his- 
torical architectural  detail  and  gave  to  designed 
space  a visual  meaning  that  had  never  before 
been  available  to  laymen  unable  to  read  a plan. 
A new  professional  class,  landscape  architects, 
stood  ready  to  create  such  space.  From  the  late 
1890s  up  to  the  1929  crash,  lavish  architectonic 
formality  seemed  imperative  and  there  was 
money,  talent,  and  labor  available  to  achieve  it. 
Even  in  Brookline,  where  the  hilly  topography 
of  ledges  and  bogs  is  better  suited  to  naturalis- 
tic treatments  like  that  at  Fairsted,  great  formal 
gardens  were  carved  out,  such  as  Charles  Platt's 
designs  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  F.  Sprague's 
Faulkner  Farm  (1897)  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Larz 
Anderson's  Weld  (1901).“ 

Fairsted  had  almost  none  of  the  garden  fea- 
tures that  from  the  turn  of  the  century  onward 
became  standard  in  the  designs  of  the  Olmsted 
firm  for  this  new  clientele,  on  small  properties 
as  well  as  large.  At  Fairsted  there  was  neither 
rose  garden  nor  herb  garden,-  neither  Japanese 
garden,  nor  water  garden.  No  extensive  support- 
ing facilities  existed,  such  as  a greenhouse  or  a 
hot  bed.  There  was  a vegetable  garden,  a cut 
flower  garden,  and  at  various  times  in  different 
locations  cuttings  were  grown  on,  plants  heeled 
in,  and  bulbs  and  annuals  tested.  But  a visitor 
did  not  find  a walled  court,  a collection  of  box- 
woods, an  allee,  or  a formal  vista.  Garden  seats, 
Chinese  ornaments,  stone  or  turf  terraces  with 
flights  of  steps  and  balustrades,  mossy  statues, 
clipped  hedges — none.  There  was  no  summer 
house  or  pergola  or  shingled  child's  playhouse, 
no  sundial,  nor  any  trace  of  historically  accu- 
rate— or  even  inaccurate — "period  style" — no 
Colonial  Revival,  French,  or  English  architec- 
tural details.  There  was  no  tall  stone  wall,  no 


DIVISION  OF  RARE  AND  MANUSCRIPT  COLLECTIONS,  CORNELL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 


Fair  Sled  1 1 


f 


wrought-iron  entrance  gate  with 
urn-topped  posts,  no  landscape 
program  that  progressed  from 
symmetry  near  the  house  to  pas- 
toral informality  at  the  edges  of 
the  property.'^ 

The  difference  between  Olmsted 
Sr.'s  work  and  the  later  work  of 
the  firm  is  not  just  a change  in 
taste;  it  reflects  differing  ideas  as 
to  how  best  to  achieve  social  and 
political  ends  through  landscape 
architecture.  Olmsted  Sr.,  whose 
landscape  philosophy  was  progres- 
sive and  socialist,  had  always  been 
reluctant  to  undertake  private 
residential  work  for  the  very  rich. 


Above,  Mrs.  Henry  V.  Greenough's 
formal  garden,  an  Ellen  Shipman 
project  of  1926,  exemplifies  the 
trend  towards  compartmented  design 
on  smaller  properties  in  Brookline 
and  other  suburbs.  Brick  walls,  a 
controlling  axis  that  ties  the  garden 
to  the  house,  sculptural  ornament, 
and  richly  planted  perennial  beds 
are  typical  of  Shipman’s  work.  Such 
features  can  also  be  found  in  many 
private  gardens  laid  out  nationwide 
by  Olmsted  Brothers  in  that  same 
decade. 

Below,  the  landscape  plan, 
unlike  Fairsted’s,  would  not  be  a 
surprise  today.  The  walled  garden 
has  a well-equipped  vegetable-and- 
cutting  garden  tucked  compactly 
behind  it;  steps  lead  down  to  a 
pool  whose  oval  shape  is  echoed  by 
the  lawn.  A winding  path  invisible 
from  lawn  or  house  circles  the 
tree-screened  property.  Two  pocket 
gardens  fill  the  lot  corners:  a hank  of 
naturalistic  plantings  and  a wild 
pond.  It’s  a brilliant  solution  for  the 
owner  of  a small  suburban  property 
who  wants  it  all:  privacy,  formal  and 
natural  beauty,  changes  in  level,  the 
use  of  water,  and  home  produce. 
Compactness,  symmetry,  formality, 
and  an  absence  of  connection  with 
the  landscape  beyond  are  what 
chiefly  differentiate  it  from  a home 
landscape  of  Fairsted’s  date.^^ 


12  Ainoldia  1996  Summer 


He  did  so  ambivalently,  and  generally  only 
when  some  aspect  of  it  served  a purpose  beyond 
the  client's  personal  satisfaction.  For  instance, 
he  embarked  on  George  Vanderbilt's  Biltmore, 
in  North  Carolina,  because  he  felt  an  arboretum 
and  privately  managed  forest  would  exemplify 
national  goals  for  conservation  and  arbor- 
iculture. While  the  Olmsted  brothers  certainly 
did  not  neglect  the  public  sphere,  they  clearly 
felt  no  such  ambivalence  about  expensive  pri- 
vate display  designed  for  its  own  sake,  if  one  is 
to  judge  from  the  large  body  of  elaborate  estate 
work  they  executed. 

At  Fairsted,  among  the  most  striking  original 
features  (all  of  which  still  survive)  are  a great 
elm  standing  in  an  irregular  pool  of  lawn,  and 
the  "borrowed  scenery,"  a view  over  the 
meadow  and  groves  of  the  adjoining  property. 
But  most  significant  of  the  original  survivors 
is  "the  Hollow,"  a rugged  little  garden  that 
lies  next  to  and  helow  the  house  entrance,  a 
deep  dimple  in  an  outcropping  of  Roxbury 
puddingstone.  Any  "improver"  except  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted  would  have  filled  it  in  when  grad- 
ing the  grounds.  He  kept  it — the  kind  of  geologi- 
cal reminder  of  place  that  appears  everywhere  in 
his  work. 

If  the  Hollow  stands  as  an  emblem  of 
Olmsted's  respect  for  wild  nature,  then  the  con- 
tinuity of  the  1.74-acre  landscape,  which  flows 
without  breaks  like  a Japanese  screen  painting, 
illustrates  how  he  viewed  the  relationship  be- 
tween interior  and  exterior — or  between  man 
and  his  manmade  surrounding.  The  sense  of 
unbroken  flow  persists  even  as  one  walks 
slowly  through  the  former  living  quarters  of  the 
house,  where  the  rock  garden,  lawn,  borrowed 
pasture  view,  and  shrub  bank  melt  into  one 
another  through  the  old  wavy  window  panes.  It 
is  Olmsted's  ideal  landscape,  tamed  and  in 
miniature:  a continuous  whole,  an  ideal  he 
expressed  again  and  again  in  writing  about  both 
natural  and  designed  landscape.  Describing 
Yosemite  in  1864  he  said  "...  not  in  one  feature 
or  another,  not  in  one  part  or  one  scene  or 
another,  not  any  landscape  that  can  be  framed 
by  itself,  but  all  around  and  wherever  the  visitor 
goes,  constitutes  the  Yo  Semite  the  greatest 
glory  of  nature."*'^ 

The  landscape  at  Fairsted  is  indeed  "all 
around,"  unlike  the  firm's  later,  more  architec- 


tonic projects.  When  the  Beaux-Arts  concept  of 
extending  the  axes  and  lines  of  the  house  out- 
doors took  hold  shortly  after  the  turn  of  the  cen- 
tury, compartment,  or  "room,"  gardening  was 
the  consequence.  Each  indoor  room  has  its  out- 
door counterpart.  This  sequenced  architectural 
feeling  (one  that  still  usefully  rules  in  the  small 
spaces  of  today)  is  very  different  from  that  of 
Fairsted's  integrated,  organic  design. 

Interpreting  the  Plantings 

Fairsted's  original  plantings,  so  different  from 
those  found  in  large  estate  gardens  of  the  early 
twentieth  century,  shaped  the  design  as  much  as 
did  the  requirements  of  use,  or  any  idea  of  ideal 
landscape  form.  By  the  twenties,  hybridizers 
were  producing  compact  forms  of  shrubs  and 
dwarf  or  fastigiate  forms  of  trees  to  suit  smaller 
properties.  By  contrast,  Fairsted's  shrub 
plantings  were  species,  or  older  cultivars,  with 
wide-sprawling  branches.  Just  a look  at 
Fairsted's  roses  is  telling.  There  is  not  a tea  rose 
to  be  found.  Instead  there  are  big  hardy  shrub 
roses:  American  native  Rosa  lucida  (now  R. 
virginiana]  with  its  clear  yellow  fall  foliage; 
beautiful  but  dangerously  invasive  Rosa  multi- 
flora, with  its  staggering  fragrance  and  huge 
bouquets  of  translucent  single  white  flowers; 
Rosa  spinosissima,  the  old  "Scotch  Briar,"  with 
its  creamy  flowers  and  ferny  foliage.  Native 
American  shrubs — such  as  staghorn  sumac 
(Rhus  typhinaj,  inkberry  (Ilex  glabra),  and 
summersweet  (Clethra  alnifolia) — show  up  on 
the  plan  of  1904.  Both  these  plants  and  the 
species  roses  were  used  by  Olmsted  in  the 
Boston  parks,  perhaps  indicating  their  presence 
at  Fairsted  in  the  1880s  as  well.  Generally, 
the  landscape  depended  on  contrasting  plant 
forms  and  foliage  textures  for  its  effect,  rather 
than  on  blossom. 

In  its  use  of  large  species  forms  and  American 
natives  for  even  the  smallest  suburban  land- 
scape, Olmsted's  original  planting  aesthetic  was 
indeed  different  from  that  of  the  1920s.  It  had 
been  equally  distinct  from  that  of  his  contempo- 
raries. His  taste  as  a young  man  had  been 
formed  at  the  same  time  that  a taste  for  the  pic- 
turesque in  a domestic  setting  finally  became 
popular  in  America,  fifty  years  or  so  after  its 
vogue  in  England.  But  Olmsted's  version  of  the 
picturesque  at  Fairsted  was  even  wilder,  less 


Fairsted  13 


f 


In  summer,  perhaps  as  early  as  the  twenties  and  certainly  hy  1935,  the  date  of  this  photograph,  a chair  and 
table  had  appeared  in  the  shade  of  the  Hollow.  The  narrow  foreground  path  circles  a central  bed  and  the  ledge 
of  Roxbury  puddingstone  looms  beyond.  The  reconstruction  of  the  wooden  entrance  arch  can  be  seen  at  the 
upper  left. 


manicured  than  the  American  norm  of  its  time. 
Vines  grew  everywhere.  Photographs  taken  at 
the  turn  of  the  century  show  house  walls  and 
fences  dripping  with  climbers,  many  of  them 
fast  growers  to  thirty  feet  or  so:  Dutchman's 
pipe  (Aristolochia  macrophylla,  formerly  A. 
durior),  Japanese  winter-creeper  (Euonymus 
fortune!  var.  radicans),  hower  actinidia 
(Actinidia  arguta),  the  American  shruhhy 
bittersweet  (Celastius  scandens),  Virginia 
creeper  (Parthenocissus  quinquefolia),  and  Bos- 
ton ivy  {P.  tiicuspidata,  formerly  Ampelopsis 
tricuspidata],  wisteria  (probably  Wisteria 
sinensis),  and  English  ivy  (Hedera  helix). 

What  such  a display  of  almost  tropical  inten- 
sity meant  to  Olmsted  is  expressed  in  an  1863 


letter  to  Ignaz  Pilat,  the  Austrian  horticulturist 
of  Central  Park.  Writing  from  Panama,  Olmsted 
describes  the  "jungled  variety  and  density  and 
intricate  abundance"  of  the  isthmus,  saying  it 
"excited  a wholly  different  emotion  from  that 
produced  by  any  of  our  temperate-zone  scenery 
. . . excited  it  instantly,  instinctively  and 
directly.  If  my  retrospective  analysis  of  this 
emotion  is  correct,  it  rests  upon  a sense  of 
the  superabundant  creative  power,  infinite 
resource,  and  liberality  of  Nature — the  childish 
playfulness  and  profuse  careless  utterance  of 
Nature."*^  How  to  duplicate  this  in  the  Ramble 
in  Central  Park,  Olmsted  asks  himself.  He  cites 
the  Virginia  creeper,  so  much  in  evidence  at 
Fairsted,  as  perhaps  the  best  temperate-zone 


Overleaf:  Plan  #33,  the  1920s  reworking  of  the  Hollow,  refreshed  the  green  framework  and  groundcovers  and 
saw  the  judicious  removal  of  shrubs  that  had  outgrown  their  original  locations.  The  small  garden  was  groomed 
as  a display  garden  and,  besides  the  plants  listed  here,  quantities  of  other  corms  and  bulbs  were  added  for  a 
continuous  succession  of  bloom  from  early  April  through  August. 


NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE,  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE 


14  Ainoldia  1996  Summer 


OLMSTED  BROTHERS 
(F.  L.  Olmsted  Estate) 
Brookline,  Massachusetts 


PLANTING  FOR  "HOLLOW" 
TO  ACCOMPANY  PLAN  NO.  33 
File  No.  673 


Olmsted  Brothers 
Landscape  Architects 


Brookline.  Mass. 
October  5th,  1923. 


1.  Cotoneaster  horizontalis , 14  plants 

2.  Juniperus  communis.  6 plants 

3.  Hosta  sieboldiana,  2'  apart.  30  plants 

4.  Taxus  cuspidata,  10  plants 

5.  Taxus  cuspidata  capitata,  7 plants 

6.  Taxus  repandens , 4'  apart,  36  plants 

7.  Pachysandra  terminalis.  9"  apart.  1859  plants 

8.  Taxus  repandens,  small  size.  25  plants 

9.  Epimedium  macranthum,  9"  apart.  756  plants 


(or  other  kinds) 


10.  Juniperus  japonica,  11  plants  ^rvot 

11.  Juniperus  chinensis  pfitzeriana.  5 plants 


105  plants 


14.  Phlox  subulata  Vivid,  9"  apart,  125  plants 

15.  Phlox  subulata  G.  F.  Wilson,  9"  apart,  70  plants 

16.  Saxifraga  cordifolia,  large-leaved  variety,  30  plants 

17.  Dryopteris  marginalis,  1'  apart,  50  plants 

18.  Dennstedtia  punctilobula , 1'  apart,  125  plants 

19.  Salix  tristis.  1 1/2'  apart,  170  plants 

20.  Diervilla  trifida,  2'  apart,  45  plants 

21.  Euonymus  radicans  acutus , 1 1/2'  apart,  75  plants 

22.  Iris  Prince  Victor,  1 1/2'  apart,  5 plants 

23.  Iris  Ingeborg,  1 1/2'  apart,  10  plants 

24.  Taxus  canadensis.  3'  apart,  50  plants 

25.  Hosta  lancifolia,  1 1/2'  apart,  80  plants 

The  list  also  included  another  38  varieties  of  iris,  a total  of  639  corms.  For  instant  effect,  they  were  closely 
planted:  for  example.  Iris  cristata  on  9-inch  centers. 

A.  Add  a few  rocks. 

B.  The  existing  gap  to  be  filled  in  with  shrubs  from  place,  preferably 

rhodotypos . 

C.  All  of  the  rhododendrons  to  be  taken  out  of  here  and  used  somewhere 

along  southerly  boundary  of  grounds.  (Next  Mrs.  Gardner's) 

D.  Practically  all  of  the  existing  shrubs  on  this  slope  to  be  eliminated, 

and  perhaps  used  elsewhere  on  the  grounds.  The  box,  a crataegus, 
probably  a pyrus  are  to  be  left:  decisions  will  have  to  be  made  at 
the  time  of  carrying  out  the  work. 

E.  The  vines  growing  up  from  the  base  of  this  rock  probably  to  be 

eliminated.  This  is  to  be  considered  on  the  ground  again. 

F.  It  is  worth  considering  rebuilding  these  steps. 

G.  It  is  worth  considering  rebuilding  this  walk  and  the  platform  with 

more  artistic - looking  material. 

H.  Leave  Crataegus  pyracantha. 


Fairsted  15 


LILIES  Planted  Fall  1924 

Superbum  — bright  reddish  orange,  spotted. 

Canadense  - funnel  shaped  flowers:  varying  from  yellow  to  orange: 
spotted  inside. 

Croceum  - Bright  orange  flowers. 

Henryi  - flowers  a rich  deep  orange  - yellow . Fine  foliage. 

Regale  - flowers,  white,  shaded  pink:  canary-yellow  center. 

Speciosum  album  - large  pure  white  fragrant  flowers. 

Speciosum  melpomene  - pink  spotted  flowers:  last  3 weeks  or  longer. 
Testaceum  - dull  apricot,  orange  anthers. 

Pardalinum  Californicum  - deep  orange,  maroon  spotted:  tips  of  petals, 
intense  scarlet. 

Parryi  - flowers  of  soft  yellow  : conspicuous  brown  anthers. 

Batemanni  - clear  glowing  apricot  f lower s - Brown 

Browni  - large  trumpet:  inside,  pure  white:  outside  shaded  chocolate- 
brown  . 

Monadelphum  Szovitzianum  - pale  citron-yellow  to  deep  yellow. 


Circles  indicate  only  approximate  locations,  not  areas  occupied,  and  the  numbers  in 
circles  indicate  the  number  of  bulbs  planted. 

A group  of  tall,  pure  white  Lilium  speciosum  ‘Album’ (see  arrow)  greets  the 
visitor  descending  the  steps  and  is  then  silhouetted  against  the  Hollow’s  steep  south 
wall  of  greenery  and  stone  when  seen  from  the  far  end  of  the  central  path. 


NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE,  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE, 


16  Ainoldia  1996  Summer 


substitute.  Years  later,  visiting  England  in 
1892,  he  wrote  to  John  Charles  that  the  best 
ornamental  grounds  he  saw  were  those  in 
which  the  vines  and  creepers  were  outwitting 
the  gardener. 

Fortunately,  in  refurbishing  this  landscape 
after  the  turn  of  the  century,  the  firm  largely 
followed  Olmsted's  example  hy  using  common 
hardy  plants  like  Virginia  creeper  or  English  ivy, 
all  in  great  quantity.  They  grew  well,  quickly 
providing  nature's  "childish  playfulness  and 
profuse  careless  utterance."  Quantities  some- 
times ran  very  large  indeed:  a memo  of  August 
6,  1924,  specifies  ninety  (!)  sheep  laurel  (Kalmia 
latifolia),  one  to  one-and-one-half-foot-tall,  for 
"planting  about  path  in  southeast  corner  of 
lawn."  One  wonders  what  thinning  procedures 
were  used;  perhaps  the  nineteenth-century 
practice,  "Plant  thick  and  thin  quick,"  which 
Olmsted  Sr.  used  in  his  parks,  was  used  here 
as  well.  Similarly,  for  ferns  in  the  same  corner, 
the  hardiest,  easiest-to-grow  ferns  are  specified, 
such  as  hay-scented  fern  [Dennstaedtia  punc- 
tilobula,  formerly  Dicksonia  puiictilobula], 
which  is  exceptionally  drought-resistant. 

Planting  Changes  after  Olmsted  Sr. 

The  only  areas  where  planting  schemes  did 
change  in  the  forty  years  between  the  1880s  and 
the  1920s  were  in  the  Hollow  and  the  rear  court- 
yard. Both  of  these  areas,  which  are  on  the  office 
side  of  the  grounds,  were  planted  more  elabo- 
rately. The  additions  were  predominantly 
notable  for  the  bloom  and  seasonal  appeal  pro- 
vided by  bulbs  and  annuals,  rather  than  for  their 
year-round  form. 

The  man  with  the  most  direct  responsibility 
for  the  horticultural  development  of  the 
grounds  from  1910  through  1930  was  Hans  J. 
Koehler,  who  worked  for  the  firm  for  forty  years. 
Not  a landscape  architect,  Koehler  was  a horti- 
cultural specialist  who  made  most  of  the  plans 
and  plant  lists  for  the  Hollow  and  the  rear  court- 
yard. (Another  longterm  presence  was  Green- 
wood Kitt,  the  gardener,  who  worked  on  the 
place  from  about  1897  through  1922  and  prob- 
ably helped  shape  its  horticultural  character.) 
Koehler's  great  familiarity  with  garden  plants 
introduced  wider  horticultural  variety  at 
Fairsted  during  the  years  of  his  employment. 
This  change  was  also  impelled  by  the  firm's 


desire  to  have  a showplace  for  clients,  and  its 
need  to  experiment  with  plants  that  could  pro- 
duce an  unbroken  sequence  of  bulb  and  peren- 
nial bloom  in  clients'  gardens — a new  concept 
of  planting  that  became  the  rule  at  the  turn  of 
the  century. 

By  1930  the  Hollow  was  still  the  "mass  of 
shrubs  and  flowers"  reached  by  "rough  rock 
steps"  that  the  budding  landscape  gardener 
Beatrix  Jones  (Farrand)  described  in  1894.  But 
there  had  been  changes  in  garden  architecture, 
use,  and  planting.  The  alteration  of  the  steps 
is  a metaphor  for  the  changes  in  general:  at 
Koehler's  suggestion,  they  were  rebuilt  in  1924 
for  an  easier  descent  so  that,  although  their 
location  and  rustic  nature  were  retained,  their 
roughhewn  appearance  was  reduced  by  regular- 
izing the  height  and  variety  of  the  risers.  The 
increased  ease  of  access,  and  the  use  of  a table 
and  chairs  for  staff  members  at  lunchtime, 
domesticated  the  Hollow  in  a way  not  envi- 
sioned before:  it  became  a garden  room  instead 
of  a remnant  of  nature  that  one  glanced  into  or 
walked  through  for  spiritual  refreshment.  By 
1930  as  many  as  forty-one  different  iris  culti- 
vars,  twenty-three  kinds  of  tulips  (species, 
single  early,  cottage,  and  Darwin  types  are  all 
represented),  and  thirteen  lilies  had  been  indi- 
cated for  the  Hollow.  No  planting  list  exists 
from  the  1880s,  but  it  seems  doubtful  that 
Olmsted  Sr.  would  have  included  so  many  cul- 
tivated varieties  of  bulbs  in  this  wild-looking 
place,  given  his  expressed  preference  for  keeping 
flowers  in  the  garden  and  out  of  the  landscape. 
Given  his  taste  for  subtle,  overall  effects  would 
he  have  planted  pure  white,  one-and-a-half- 
meter-tall  Lilium  speciosum  'Album'  in  the 
center  of  this  diminutive  wild  garden  as  was 
done  in  1924?  Would  he  have  proposed,  as 
Koehler  did  in  a 1911  memorandum  to  F.  L. 
Olmsted,  Jr.,  that  "the  coarse  blackberry  vines 
and  some  other  coarse  things  on  slope  to  the 
west  of  the  rhododendron  group  under  the 
Cornus  florida  are  to  be  eliminated"?  Cut  back, 
perhaps;  eliminated,  no.  Olmsted  Sr.  himself  had 
written  to  John  Charles  in  1884  while  the  origi- 
nal landscape  was  being  created,  that  he  didn't 
"object  to  the  cutting  away  of  certain  bramble 
patches  if  brambles  are  to  take  their  place.  . . ." 

The  reorganization  of  the  employees'  rear 
courtyard  was  even  more  radical  in  planting 


Fairsted  17 


f 


changes  and  design  intent. 

Koehler  did  the  final  1925  plan, 
hut  undoubtedly  it  was  approved 
hy  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  Jr., 
then  the  firm's  deciding  voice  on 
Fairsted  matters.  The  yard  was 
transformed  from  an  unceremoni- 
ous hack  areaway  into  a pleasant, 
modest  entrance  garden.  Vines 
grew  on  the  high  walls  of  the  new 
hrick  plan  vault,  and  flowers 
bloomed  in  beds  lining  the  sides  of 
the  courtyard  and  in  a single  bed 
set  in  a stone  dust  cement  aggre- 
gate floor  (presumably  poured  for 
practicality,  before  a garden  was 
envisioned).  Within  the  context  of 
the  firm's  work,  the  new  court- 
yard design  and  plantings  were 
neither  original  nor  beautiful. 

Nonetheless,  they  are  interesting 
historically  because  they  mirror 
changed  attitudes  towards  the 
workplace  and  the  profession  of 
landscape  architecture.  Further, 
they  demonstrate  the  emergence 
of  certain  design  conventions, 
such  as  symmetry,  not  seen  before 
at  Fairsted. 

These  improvements  to  the 
courtyard  certainly  indicate  a 
change  in  the  status  of  the  firm's 
employees.  Their  growing  num- 
bers and  the  recognition  of  land- 
scape architecture  as  a respected 
profession  endowed  clerks  and 
other  support  staff  (both  men  and 
women  by  the  1920s)  with  enough 
importance  to  assure  them  of 
more  than  a naked  "back  door." 

Then  too,  the  1926  automobile 
parking  lot  on  the  site  of  the 
former  vegetable  garden  brought 
more  people  through  this  rear 
entrance. 

By  comparison  with  the  Fiol- 
low,  such  a landscape  comes 
across  as  less  sophisticated,  less  considered  and 
permanent  in  its  plantings,-  it  had  less  to  do  with 
the  natural  site  and  more  to  do  with  human  use. 
Unlike  the  Hollow,  which  was  essentially  the 


What  in  the  earliest  years  of  the  firm  was  an  unceremonious  back 
door  used  hy  the  staff  had  become  a cheerful  though  modest  office 
garden  by  the  late  1920s.  The  pyramidal  yews  at  either  side  of  the 
path  mark  not  only  an  entrance  but  also  the  use  of  symmetry  not  seen 
before  at  Fairsted. 

older  "front  entrance  garden"  to  the  same  office 
space,  the  courtyard  did  not  have  a stone  path 
and  steps,  nor  a refined  array  of  shrubs  for  year- 
round  structure,  nor  a choice  selection  of  small 


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NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE,  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE. 


18  Ainoldia  1996  Summer 


Staff  hoiticultmist  Hans  f.  Koehler's  planting  study  for  the  rear  office 
courtyard  makes  the  best  of  an  unpromising  space  with  an  abundance 
of  perennial  border  plants  that  are  a hallmark  of  the  firm’s  later  style: 
iris,  peonies,  and  a rambler  rose,  along  with  annuals  such  as  sweet 
alyssum  and  tuberous  begonias.  In  winter,  yews  and  pachysandra  make 
a sketchy  evergreen  framework. 


bulbs  and  lilies.  Instead,  many  of  the  courtyard 
plants  were  annual  flowers,  which  provided 
the  immediate  appeal  of  summer  color  and 
fragrance  for  people  hurrying  in  to  work.  Sym- 
metry (more  or  less),  tight  pyramidal  yews,  the 
popular  pink  rose  'Dorothy  Perkins'  (introduced 
in  1902),  and  an  edging  of  sweet  alyssum 
marked  it  as  a modest  early  twentieth-century 
suburban  "cottage"  garden  whose  planting 
aesthetic  was  very  different  from  that  of  an 
earlier  Fairsted. 

John  Charles  Olmsted  died  in  1920,  and  the 
death  of  his  mother  followed  in  1 92 1 . The  house 
was  rented  in  that  same  year,  and  Frederick 
Olmsted,  Jr.,  moved  to  California  with  his  fam- 


ily for  most  of  the  1920s.  Thus 
the  early  twenties  became  a 
turning  point  when  the  focus  of 
Fairsted  tipped  away  from  the 
home  and  towards  the  needs  of 
the  firm.  The  emphasis  turned 
now  to  the  design  elements 
that  could  illustrate  possibili- 
ties for  visiting  clients.  In  the 
previous  forty  years,  between 
1883  and  the  early  twenties, 
the  Olmsted  family's  need  for  a 
soothing  and  private  landscape 
had  been  equally  important;  it 
had  served  as  a multiple-use, 
domestic  fabric  whose  spatial 
patterns  shaped  and  were 
shaped  by  daily  life. 

The  National  Park  Service 
Restoration 

The  present  restoration  will 
return  the  design  to  its  compo- 
sition in  the  late  1920s.  Those 
were  the  years  when  the  firm's 
business  was  at  its  height  but 
before  the  mechanical  lawn- 
mower  had  erased  many  of  the 
subtle  curves  where  green- 
sward meets  shrub  border.  Nor 
had  the  growth  of  seedling 
invaders  and  the  death  of  many 
mature  trees  changed  the 
composition  of  the  family  side. 
In  choosing  the  landscape  of 
this  period,  the  restoration  intends  to  reestab- 
lish the  delicate  balance  that  still  existed  in  the 
1920s  between  the  old  residential  landscape 
and  that  of  the  office,  at  the  same  time  that  it 
brings  back  the  lush,  profligate  look  so  emblem- 
atic of  Olmsted's  original  design  and  landscape 
philosophy. 

Endnotes 

This  article  is  adapted  from  a longer  essay  written  as  part 
of  a cultural  landscape  report  prepared  by  the  Olmsted 
Center  for  Landscape  Preservation  for  the  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted  National  Historic  Site  of  the  National  Park 
Service.  It  will  be  published  in  its  entirety  in  1997. 

^ Frederick  Law  Olmsted  (hereafter  FLO)  gives  his 
definition  of  civilization  most  completely  in  "Notes 


Fairsted  1 9 


The  Dudley  Street  entrance  area  reflects  Fairsted’s  changing  usage:  first  a vegetable  garden  for  a family,  then 
briefly  considered  as  an  experimental  annual  plot  for  the  firm,  it  finally  became  in  1926  a parking  lot  for  the 
expanded  staff.  The  spruce  pole  fence,  equally  flexible  in  its  own  way,  has  been  cut  to  fit  the  root  flare  of  an 
Acer  pseudoplatanus,  at  left. 


on  the  Pioneer  Condition,  Section  2,  Defining 
Civilization,"  in  Ranney,  659. 

^ FLO  expressed  his  ideal  of  the  domestic  landscape  in 
"Plan  for  a Small  Homestead,"  Garden  and  Forest 
(May  2,  1888)1:  111. 

^ FLO,  "Trees  in  Streets  and  in  Parks,  The  Sanitarian 
(September  1882)  X)114):  517. 

Alisa  Belinkoff  Katz,  "From  Puritan  Village  to  Yankee 
Township:  A Social  History  of  Politics  in  Brookline, 
1705-1875"  in  Brookline,  the  Social  History  of  a Sub- 


urban Town  1705-1850,  ed.  David  Hackett  Fischer 
(Waltham,  MA:  Brandeis  University,  1986),  264. 

Atlas  of  the  Town  of  Brookline  (Philadelphia:  G.  M. 
Hopkins,  1884),  plate  15,  and  Town  of  Brookline 
Special  Committee,  Report  of  Committee  on 
Municipal  Policy  of  the  Town  of  Brookline, 
Massachusetts  (Brookline,  MA:  Riverdale  Press, 
1925),  3-13. 

For  a discussion  of  women's  psychological  illness  in 
the  19th  century,  see  Barbara  Ehrenreich  and  Deirdre 


NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE.  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE 


20  Arnoldia  1996  Summer 


English,  For  Her  Own  Good:  150  Years  of  the  Experts’ 
Advice  to  Women  (Garden  City,  NY:  Anchor  Books/ 
Doubleday,  1978),  102-140. 

^ Downing's  book,  which  first  appeared  in  1841,  was 
reissued  in  eight  editions  throughout  the  century. 

* Catharine  E.  Beecher  and  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe, 
American  Woman’s  Home  (NY:  J.  B.  Ford,  1869; 
Hartford,  CT:  Stowe-Day  Foundation,  1975),  117, 
294-296,  379-402;  also  see  fane  Loudon,  Gardening 
for  Ladies  (1840),  The  Ladies’  Companion  to  the 
Flower-Garden  (1841),  The  Ladies’  Flower-Garden 
(1839-48),  Amateur  Gardener’s  Companion  (1847), 
The  Lady’s  Country  Companion  (1850). 

® Hans  1.  Koehler,  Blooming  Date  Notebook,  March  6, 
1910,  to  November  16,  1910,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted 
National  Historic  Site  Plant  File. 

For  "communitiveness,"  see  "Notes  on  the  Pioneer 
Condition,  Section  2,  Defining  Civilization,"  in 
Ranney,  659. 

Keith  N.  Morgan,  Charles  Platt:  The  Artist  as 
Architect  (NY:  Architectural  History  Foundation, 
1985),  48-53,  56-58. 

Mac  Griswold  and  Eleanor  Weller,  The  Golden  Age  of 
American  Gardens:  Proud  Owners,  Private  Estates. 
1890-1940.  (NY:  Harry  N.  Abrams,  1991)  13-15, 
45-48. 

Ellen  Shipman,  "Variety  of  Form  and  Abundance  of 
Bloom  Within  a Small  Area,  The  Garden  of  Mrs. 
Henry  V.  Greenough,  Brookline,  Massachusetts," 
House  Beautiful  (March,  1931),  259-262. 

FLO,  "The  Yosemite  Valley  and  the  Mariposa  Big 
Trees:  A Preliminary  Report  (1865),"  in  Ranney,  500. 

FLO  to  Ignaz  A.  Pilat,  September  26,  1863,  in  Ranney, 
85. 

Select  Bibliography 

Beveridge,  Charles  E.,  and  Paul  Rocheleau.  1995. 

Erederick  Law  Olmsted:  Designing  the 
American  Landscape.  NY:  Rizzoli  Inter- 
national. 

Kalfus,  Melvin.  1990.  Frederick  Law  Olmsted:  The 
Passion  of  a Public  Artist.  NY:  New  York 
University  Press. 


Ranney,  Victoria  Post,  Gerard  ].  Rauluk,  and  Carolyn 
F.  Hoffman.  1990.  The  Papers  of  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted.  Vol.  V,  The  California 
Frontier,  1863-1865.  Baltimore:  fohns  Hopkins 
University  Press. 

Roper,  Laura  Wood.  1973.  FLO.  A Biography  of  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted.  Baltimore:  Johns  Hopkins 
University  Press. 

Tishler,  William  H.,  ed.  1989.  American  Landscape 
Architecture:  Designers  and  Places. 

Washington,  DC:  Preservation  Press. 

Zaitzevsky,  Cynthia.  In  press.  Cultural  Landscape 
Report  for  the  Frederick  Law  Olmsted 
National  Historic  Site,  “Fairsted.  ” Vol.  I:  Site 
History,  with  an  afterword  by  Mac  Griswold. 
Brookline,  MA:  National  Park  Service, 
Frederick  Law  Olmsted  National  Historic  Site. 

. 1982.  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  and  the  Boston 

Park  System.  Cambridge,  MA:  Harvard 
University  Press. 

Acknowledgments 

For  all  the  assistance  offered  in  so  many  ways  with  this 
article,  1 would  like  to  thank  Robert  Cook  and  Phyllis 
Andersen  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum,-  Lauren  Meier  and 
Joyce  Connolly  of  the  National  Park  Service,  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted  National  Historic  Site;  Cynthia 
Zaitzevsky,  Karen  Madsen,  Robin  Karson,  Arleyn  Levee, 
Keith  Morgan,  Victoria  Ranney,  Judith  Tankard,  and  the 
staffs  of  the  Brookline  Public  Library  and  the  Brookline 
Preservation  Commission. 


Mac  Griswold's  most  recent  book  is  The  Golden  Age  of 
American  Gardens  (1991),  an  illustrated  history  of  turn- 
of-the-century  plutocratic  gardening  in  the  U.S.,  written 
with  Eleanor  Weller.  She  is  also  the  author  of  "A  History 
of  Gardening  in  the  United  States,"  in  The  New  Royal 
Horticultural  Society  Dictionary  of  Gardening  (1992), 
edited  by  Sir  Aldous  Huxley.  Her  articles  and  book 
reviews  have  appeared  in  The  New  York  Times,  Vogue, 
House  &>  Garden.  Hortus,  The  Magazine  Antiques, 
Landscape  Architecture  Magazine,  Gardens  Illustrated, 
and  Garden  Design,  where  she  is  a contributing  editor. 


Tne  Arnola  Arnoretum 


SUMMER 


NEWS 


1 872-1 997:  Celebrating  1 25  Years  at  the  Arnold  Arboretum 


A 


Haying  near  Center  Street,  1931. 


The  meadow  in  flood,  March  12,  1936. 


Robert  E.  Cook,  Director 

Nineteen  ninety-seven  will  mark 
the  125th  anniversary  of  the 
founding  of  the  Arnold  Arbore- 
tum. On  March  29,  1872,  the 
President  and  Fellows  of  Harvard 
College  accepted  from  the  trustees 
of  the  estate  of  James  Arnold  the 
gift  of  the  Arnold  Endowment  to 
establish  a scientific  collection  of 
shrubs  and  trees.  It  seems  like  an 
occasion  for  a year-long  party. 

The  anniversary  celebration 
will  be  launched  this  October 
18rh  with  the  opening  of  our  new 
permanent  exhibit,  “Science  in  the 
Pleasure  Ground.”  Funded  by 
grants  from  the  National  Endow- 
ment for  the  Humanities,  the 
exhibit  will  feature  four  themes 
that  mark  the  cultural  history  of 
the  Arboretum:  the  design  of  the 
landscape;  plant  collecting  around 
the  world;  American  horticulture; 
and  the  conservation  of  forests  at 
home  and  abroad.  The  exhibit  will 
be  anchored  by  an  eight-by-six- 
teen-foot  scale  model  of  the  Arbo- 
retum, complete  with  detailed 
vignettes  depicting  the  history  of 
the  land  and  people,  funded  by  a 
generous  gift  from  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Louis  J.  Appell,  Jr. 

In  spring,  1997,  we  will  further 
mark  the  anniversary  with  the  re- 
lease of  our  new  lilac  introduction, 
Syringa  x chinensis  ‘Lilac  Sunday’, 
to  be  made  available,  appropri- 
ately enough,  on  Lilac  Sunday, 

May  18,  1997.  A large  garden 
party  to  formally  honor  125  years 
of  achievement  in  science  and  edu- 


cation will  follow  later  in  spring. 
Other  celebratory  events  will  in- 
clude a special  exhibit  at  the  New 
England  Spring  Flower  Show, 
publication  of  a special  edition  of 
Arnoldia,  summer  tours  of  extraor- 
dinary gardens,  and  creation  of  an 
anniversary  T-shirt  and  poster. 

The  celebration  will  continue 
into  the  fall  with  our  traditional 


Fall  Plant  Sale  and  Auction  on 
September  21,  and  a scientific 
symposium  will  wrap  up  the  anni- 
versary year  in  November. 

While  acknowledging  our 
notable  past,  the  125th  anniver- 
sary will  also  provide  a wonderful 
opportunity  to  enjoy  the  promise 
of  the  future.  We  hope  you  will 
join  us. 


Donald  Wyman  Ernest  J.  Palmer 


Meyer  Gift  to  Support  Children's  Education 


Henry  and  Nod  Meyer,  longtime 
friends  ot  the  Arnold  Arboretum, 
recently  established  the  Nature 
Study  Fund  for  City  Children 
with  a generous  gift  that  reflects 
the  Meyers’  interests  in  horticul- 
ture and  children’s  environmental 
education. 

In  1994,  the  Meyers  initiated 
and  funded  a project  to  enable 
schoolchildren  from  Chelsea, 
Massachusetts,  to  participate  in 
the  Field  Studies  Program  at  the 
Arboretum.  The  Field  Studies 


Program  introduces  primary 
schoolchildren  to  science  through 
a series  of  field  trips  to  the  Arbo- 
retum. “I  firmly  believe  that  the 
Arboretum  is  an  ideal  location  for 
young  people  to  learn  firsthand 
their  responsibility  in  preserving 
their  and  our  environment,”  says 
Henry  Meyer.  "My  primary  inter- 
est is  in  helping  the  younger  stu- 
dents while  their  minds  are  still 
open  to  positive  inputs.”  The 
Meyers’  gift  to  the  endowment 
will  support  ongoing  programs  in 


children's  education  with  prefer- 
ence given  to  primary  schoolchil- 
dren from  Chelsea. 

Nod  Meyer  has  been  actively 
involved  with  the  Arboretum  for 
over  20  years.  An  avid  horticultur- 
ist, she  has  collected  plant  mate- 
rial from  around  the  world  and  is 
best  known  at  the  Arboretum  for 
her  ongoing  volunteer  work  at  the 
Dana  Greenhouses.  Nod  is  cur- 
rently a member  of  the  Visiting 
Committee  and  the  Fall  Plant  Sale 
Committee. 


Wherever  You  Go,  There  You  Are: 

The  New  Orientation  System 

The  qualities  that  make  the  Arboretum  so  beautiful  can  also 
make  it  hard  to  navigate.  First-time  visitors  can  be  quickly 
confounded  by  the  sinuous  road  and  path  system,  the  changes 
in  topography  ranging  from  a low-lying  marsh  to  one  of  the 
highest  points  in  Boston,  and  the  collection  of  15,000  curated 
trees  and  shrubs  interspersed  with  native  woodland.  'With  this 
in  mind,  the  Arboretum’s  Orientation  Committee  hired 
Clifford  Seibert  Design  of  Cambridge  to  design  a wayfinding 
system  that  will  meet  the  needs  of  both  new  and  experienced 
visitors  to  the  grounds.  It  will  be  in  place  this  fall. 

Early  in  the  design  process,  director  Bob  Cook  challenged 
the  design  team  to  create  an  orientation  system  that  would 
minimize  the  intrusion  of  signs  into  the  landscape.  To  para- 
phrase him,  “you  shouldn’t  see  the  signs  until  you  need 
them.”  This  aesthetic  consideration  resulted  in  a dual  orienta- 
tion system  that  uses  “you  are  here  ” maps  combined  with 
markers  at  intervals  of  one-eighth  mile.  The  maps  will  be 
located  at  each  entrance  gate  and  will  show  visitors  where  they 
are,  what  they  can  see,  and  how  they  can  use  the  orientation 
system.  Within  the  Arboretum,  milestone  markers  will  be 
embedded  at  ground  level  along  the  main  road  from  the  start 
at  the  Hunnewell  Building  to  its  end  at  Peters  Hill.  Each 
marker  gives  the  distance  to  these  two  destinations. 

This  system  has  a real  advantage  for  the  visitor:  you  can 
leave  the  road  to  explore  for  plants,  return  to  a marker  at  the 
road,  and  know  exactly  where  you  are  relative  to  the 
Hunnewell  Building  or  Peters  Hill.  At  the  same  time,  this 
new  system  preserves  the  visual  serenity  and  naturalness  that 
makes  the  Arboretum  landscape  an  island  of  calm  in  a visually 
chaotic  city. 


2 


SUMMER  1 996 


Kim  Tripp  Goes  to  Smith  College 

Peter  Del  T redid,  Director  of  Living  Collections 


“It  is  that  mind-boggling  wealth 
of  plants  that  brings  someone  like 
myself  to  the  Arnold  Arboretum.” 
With  these  words,  written  in  Feb- 
ruary 1994,  Kim  Tripp  announced 
her  arrival.  And  now,  exactly  two- 
and-a-half  years  and  countless 
memories  later,  Kim  is  leaving  us 
for  the  greener  pastures  of  the 
Connecticut  River  valley.  Dr. 
Tripp  has  recently  begun  work  as 
Director  of  the  Smith  College 
Botanic  Garden  in  Northampton, 
Massachusetts,  where  she  will 
oversee  the  operations  of  the 
botanic  garden,  teach  a year-long 
horticulture  course  to  undergradu- 
ates, and  conduct  and  supervise 
research  as  a faculty  member  in 
the  Department  of  Biological 
Sciences. 

As  a Putnam  Research  Fellow 
at  the  Arnold  Arboretum,  Kim 
has  been  a whirlwind  of  activity; 
taking  photographs,  leading  tours, 
rooting  cuttings,  measuring  seed- 


lings, evaluating  plants,  teaching 
courses,  giving  lectures,  and  writ- 
ing articles  for  Arnoldia — all  the 
while  maintaining  an  active 
research  program  on  the  subjects 
of  resource  allocation  in  woody 
plants  as  it  affects  their  perfor- 
mance in  landscape  situations; 
plant  propagation;  and  woody 
plant  evaluation. 

The  silver  lining  to  her  leaving 
is  that  she  has  become  so  inti- 
mately entwined  with  the  Arnold 
Arboretum  that  she  cannot  really 
leave.  In  a special  agreement 
worked  out  with  Smith  College, 
Kim  will  continue  her  collabora- 
tion with  us  as  a research  fellow. 
For  this  purpose,  the  Dana  Green- 
houses will  serve  as  the  base  of  op- 
erations for  her  ongoing  research 
on  propagation  and  resource  allo- 
cation. With  this  arrangement  in 
place,  we  can  say  that  Kim  isn’t 
really  leaving,  she’s  just  making  a 
slightly  longer  commute. 


Pam  Thompson: 
Harvard  Hero 

In  June  the  staff  at  the  Arboretum 
congratulated  Pam  Thompson,  co- 
ordinator of  adult  education  pro- 
grams, for  her  designation  as  a 
Harvard  Hero  in  recognition  of 
her  exemplary  service  to  Harvard. 
Two  years  ago  Harvard’s  Vice 
President  for  Administration, 

Sally  Zeckhauser,  to  whom  the 
director  of  the  Arboretum  reports, 
created  an  employee  recognition 
program  that  has  informally  come 
to  be  known  as  Harvard  Heroes, 
after  the  theme  song  played  at  the 
first  annual  ceremony.  The  pro- 
gram allows  each  of  the  units 
managed  by  Mrs.  Zeckhauser  to 
recognize  individuals  whose  ser- 
vice has  demonstrated  exceptional 
quality  and  commitment.  In  a cel- 
ebration that  included  family  and 
friends,  Pam  was  cited  for  manag- 
ing the  program’s  day-to-day 
operations  with  unusual  skill  and 
creativity — as  well  as  with  her 
usual  good  cheer. 


Living  Collections  Memorial  Fund 

In  response  to  a growing  number  of  inquiries  about  plant- 
ing memorial  trees  on  the  grounds,  the  Arboretum  recently 
established  the  Living  Collections  Memorial  Fund.  Gifts  to 
the  Living  Collections  Memorial  Fund  in  memory  of  family 
and  friends  support  the  ongoing  maintenance  and  curation 
of  our  magnificent  landscape  and  unique  collections  of 
trees,  shrubs,  and  vines. 

While  memorializing  specific  trees  is  incompatible  with 
the  scientific  mission  of  the  Arboretum,  gifts  made  to  this 
fund  support  the  annual  spring  planting  of  trees  that  repre- 
sent new  additions  to  the  collections  or  repropagations  of 
rare  plants  or  of  plants  in  decline.  Gifts  to  this  fund  support 
not  only  the  scientific  mission  of  the  Arboretum,  but  also 
the  goal  of  maintaining  an  urban  landscape  open  to  the 
public,  free  of  charge. 

For  information  about  memorial  gifts  and  the  Living 
Collections  Memorial  Fund,  contact  Lisa  M.  Hastings, 
Senior  Development  Officer,  at  617/524—1718  x 145. 


Cedrtis  libani  stenacoma  at  the  Arboretum. 


ARNOLD  ARBORETUM  NEWS 


3 


Kim  Tripp 


Summer  Interns  of  1996 

This  year’s  interns  worked  in  four 
areas — science  education,  greenhouse 
and  nursery,  mapping  and  labeling,  and 
grounds  maintenance.  Major  tasks 
included  digging  plants  in  the  nursery 
and  planting  them  on  the  grounds. 
Interns  also  helped  prune  post-drought 
deadwood  and  clean  up  the  rockery. 
Kneeling  at  left  is  Justin  Grigg; 
counterclockwise  from  center  left  are 
Stacy  Senflug,  Nicole  Sullivan,  Ann 
Cook,  Lauren  Buckland,  Kenneth  Bray, 
Seth  Cain,  Chris  McFadden,  Dana  Doyle, 
Jill  Horton,  Leslie  Marty,  Kyle  Port, 
Jeffrey  Rowan,  Kristin  McDonnell. 


PIPD  Workshop 

Tom  Ward,  greenhouse  manager, 
standing  third  from  right,  led 
participants  of  the  first  annual 
Subscribers'  Propagation 
Workshop  on  an  early-summer 
tour  of  the  Arboretum’s  shrubs. 
The  workshop  is  part  of  the 
Arboretum’s  new  Plant 
Introduction,  Promotion,  and 
Distribution  Program  for 
professional  and  commercial 
horticulturists.  The  robust  plant 
behind  them  is  Viburnum  sargentii 
‘Flavum’,  an  1872  introduction, 
that  survived  last  year’s  drought 
very  well. 


Arboretum  Cleanup 

Luis  Colon  and  Bruce  Munch  of 
the  Arboretum  grounds  staff 
worked  with  200  energetic  City 
Year  corps  members  who  gave  a 
day’s  service  this  past  June  to  clean 
up  the  newly  acquired  Stony 
Brook  Marsh.  Thanks  are  due  to 
them  and  to  the  Arnold 
Arboretum  Committee  for 
coordinating  the  effort. 


SUMMER  1 996 


Karen  Madsen  Karen  Madsen 


“Manifestations  of  refined  domestic  life’’  ranked  high  on  Frederick  Law  Olmsted’s  scale  of 
values.  He  called  them  “unquestionably  the  ripest  and  best  fruits  of  civilization.  ’’  In  1888  he 
published  his  plan  for  a residence  in  East  Greenwich,  Rhode  Island,  in  Garden  and  Forest, 
Charles  Sargent’s  journal  of  horticulture,  landscape  art,  and  forestry.  Within  this  small  site 
Olmsted  accommodated  many  modes  of  outdoor  living — a vine-canopied  garden  room,  a 
tiny  pleasure  garden  to  be  considered  a part  of  the  house,  a “retired  seat’’  for  quiet  pursuits — 
and  with  an  artful  planting  design,  connected  the  homestead  to  the  larger  landscape,  achiev- 
ing the  sense  of  Nature’s  infinitude  that  the  owner  desired.  Olmsted  never  put  into  writing 
his  intentions  for  his  own  home  in  Brookline,  but  we  can  assume  that  the  Rhode  Island 
design  exemplifies  his  ideal,  combining  “the  enjoyment,  the  comfort,  the  tranquillity,  the 
morality  and  the  permanent  furnishings,  interior  and  exterior,  of  a home.  ” 


Plan  for  a Small  Homestead 

Frederick  Law  Olmsted 

Conditions  and  Requirements. — The  site  is  upon 
the  south  face  of  a bluff,  the  surface  of  which  is  so 
steep  that  the  rectangular  street  system  of  the  city,  to 
the  east  and  south,  had  not  been  extended  over  it.  The 
diagonal  streets,  M and  N,  have  been  lately  introduced 
and  building  lots  laid  off  on  them,  as  shown  in  Figure 
1.  The  triangular  space  between  L and  M Streets  is  a 
public  property  containing  the  graves  of  some  of  the 
first  settlers  of  the  region.  Its  northern  and  western 
parts  are  rock  and  partly  covered  by  a growth  of  native 
Thorns  and  Junipers,  east  of  which  there  are  Willows 
and  other  planted  trees.  At  A there  is  a meeting-house 
and  parsonage.  Arabic  figures  show  elevations  above 
city  datum. 

The  lot  to  be  improved  is  that  marked  IX.  The  usual 
conveniences  of  a suburban  cottage  home  are  required, 
and  it  is  desired  that  it  should  be  made  more  than 
usually  easy  and  convenient  for  members  of  the  house- 
hold, one  of  whom  is  a chronic  invalid,  to  sit  much  and 
be  cheerfully  occupied  in  out-of-door  air  and  sunlight. 
A small  fruit  and  vegetable  garden  is  wanted  and  a 
stable  for  a single  horse  and  a cow,  with  carriage  room 
and  lodgings  for  a man.  Water  for  the  house,  garden 
and  stable  is  to  be  supplied  by  pipes.  There  is  a sewer 
in  M Street. 

The  problem  is  to  meet  the  requirements  thus  stated 
so  snugly  that  the  labor  of  one  man  will  be  sufficient, 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  to  keep  the  place  in 


good  order  and  provide  such  gratification  of  taste  as 
with  good  gardening  management  the  circumstances 
will  allow. 

The  north-west  corner  of  the  lot  is  21  feet  higher 
than  the  south-east  corner,  the  slope  being  steeper  in 
the  upper  and  lower  parts  than  in  the  middle.  There  is 
a small  outcrop  of  a ledge  of  limestone  about  30  feet 
from  the  south  end,  and  the  ground  near  it  is  rugged  and 
somewhat  gullied.  M Street,  which  has  a rapid  descent 
to  the  eastward,  opposite  the  lot,  was  brought  to  its 
grade  by  an  excavation  on  the  north  side  and  by  bank- 


22  Arnoldia  1996  Summer 


ing  out  on  its  south  side,  the  hank  being  supported  by  a 
retaining  wall.  The  excavation  has  left  a raw  bank  two 
to  five  feet  high  on  the  street  face  of  the  lot. 

Looking  from  the  middle  part  of  the  lot  over  the  roof 
of  the  parsonage  a glimpse  is  had  of  a river,  beyond 
which,  in  low  bottom  land,  there  is  a body  of  timber, 
chiefly  Cottonwood,  over  which,  miles  away,  low,  pas- 
tured hills  appear  in  pleasing  undulations. 

The  narrower  frontage  of  lot  IX,  its  irregular  out- 
lines, its  steepness,  its  crumpled  surface,  the  raw,  cav- 
ing bank  of  its  street  face  and  its  apparent  rockiness  and 
barrenness,  had  made  it  slower  of  sale  than  any  other 
on  the  hill  streets,  and  it  was,  accordingly,  bought  at  so 
low  a price  by  its  present  owner  that  he  is  not  unwill- 
ing to  pay  liberally  for  improvements  that  will  give  him 
such  accommodations  upon  it  as  he  calls  for.  From  the 
adjoining  lots  and  those  higher 
up  the  hill  to  the  north  the 
view  which  has  been  referred 
to,  over  the  roof  of  the  parson- 
age, is  liable  to  be  curtained  off 
by  trees  to  grow,  or  houses  to  be 
built,  on  the  south  side  of  them. 

Either  this  liability  has  been 
overlooked  or  the  view  has 
been  considered  of  little  value 
by  those  who  have  bought 
them.  "Most  people,"  says  the 
owner  of  lot  IX,  "find  their  love 
of  Nature  most  gratified  when 
they  have  a trim  lawn  and  a display  of  flowers  and  deli- 
cacies of  vegetation  upon  it  in  front  of  their  houses.  I 
find  Nature  touches  me  most  when  I see  it  in  a large 
way;  in  a way  that  gives  me  a sense  of  its  infinitude.  I 
like  to  see  a natural  horizon  against  the  sky,  and  I think 
that  the  advantage  we  shall  have  here  in  that  respect 
will  fully  compensate  us  for  the  want  of  a fine  lawn- 
like front,  provided  the  place  can  be  made  reasonably 
convenient."  Fortunately  his  wife  is  essentially  like- 
minded.  "I  am  a Western  woman,"  she  says,  "and  would 
not  like  to  live  in  a place  that  I could  not  see  out  of 
without  looking  into  the  windows  of  my  neighbors." 

Controlling  Landscape  Considerations. — The  only 
valuable  landscape  resource  of  the  property  lies  in  the 
distant  view  eastward  from  it.  Looking  at  this  from  the 
house  place,  it  can  evidently  be  improved  by  placing  in 
its  foreground  a body  of  vigorous,  dark  foliage,  in  con- 
trast with  which  the  light  gray  and  yellowish  greens  of 
the  woods  of  the  river  bottom  will  appear  of  a more 
delicate  and  tender  quality,  and  the  grassy  hills  beyond 
more  mysteriously  indistinct,  far  away,  unsubstantial 


and  dreamy.  Such  a foreground  can  be  formed  within 
the  limits  of  lot  IX,  and,  strictly  speaking,  the  forming 
of  it  will  be  the  only  landscape  improvement  that  can 
be  made  on  the  place.  It  is,  however,  to  be  considered, 
that  when  the  middle  of  the  lot  is  occupied  by  a house 
but  small  and  detached  spaces  will  remain  to  be  fur- 
nished with  verdure  or  foliage,  and  that  anything  to  be 
put  upon  these  spaces  will  come  under  direct  and  close 
scrutiny.  FFence  nothing  should  be  planted  in  them  that 
during  a severe  drought  or  an  intense  winter  or  in  any 
other  probable  contingency  is  likely  to  become  more 
than  momentarily  shabby.  Further,  it  is  to  be  consid- 
ered, that  when  the  eye  is  withdrawn  from  a scene  the 
charm  of  which  lies  in  its  extent  and  the  softness  and 
indefiniteness,  through  distance,  of  its  detail,  the  natu- 
ral beauty  in  which  the  most  pleasure  is  likely  to  be 
taken  will  be  of  a somewhat 
complementary  or  antithetical 
character.  But  to  secure  such 
beauty  it  is  not  necessary  to 
provide  a series  of  objects  the 
interest  of  which  will  lie  in  fea- 
tures and  details  to  be  seen 
separately,  and  which  would  be 
most  enjoyed  if  each  was  placed 
on  a separate  pedestal,  with 
others  near  it  of  contrasting 
qualities  of  detail,  each  on  its 
own  separate  pedestal.  It  may 
be  accomplished  by  so  bringing 
together  materials  of  varied  graceful  forms  and  pleasing 
tints  that  they  will  intimately  mingle,  and  this  with 
such  intricate  play  of  light  and  shade,  that,  though  the 
whole  body  of  them  is  under  close  observation,  the  eye 
is  not  drawn  to  dwell  upon,  nor  the  mind  to  be  occupied 
with,  details.  In  a small  place  much  cut  up,  as  this  must 
be,  a comparative  subordination,  even  to  obscurity,  of 
details,  occurring  as  thus  proposed,  and  not  as  an  effect 
of  distance,  is  much  more  conducive  to  a quiescent  and 
cheerfully  musing  state  of  mind  than  the  presentation 
of  objects  of  specific  admiration. 

Anatomical  Plan. — The  important  common  rooms 
of  the  family  and  the  best  chambers  are  to  be  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  house,  in  order  that  the  view  over 
the  river,  the  south-western  breeze  and  the  western 
twilight,  may  be  enjoyed  from  their  windows.  (See 
figure  2.)  It  follows  that  the  kitchen  and  the  main 
entrance  door  to  the  house  are  to  be  on  its  north  and 
east  side.  Were  it  not  for  excessive  steepness,  the  best 
approach  to  the  house  would  be  on  a nearly  straight 
course  between  its  east  side  and  the  nearest  point  on  M 


the  distant  view . . . can  evidently 
be  improved  by  placing  in  its 
foreground  a body  of  vigorous,  dark 
foliage,  in  contrast  with  which  the 
light  gray  and  yellowish  greens  of  the 
woods  of  the  river  bottom  will  appear 
of  a more  delicate  and  tender  quality, 
and  the  grassy  hills  beyond  more 
mysteriously  indistinct,  far  away, 
unsubstantial  and  dreamy. 


Plan  for  a Small  Homestead  23 


SCALE 


Street — i.e.,  the  south-east  corner  of  the  lot;  this  partly 
because  it  would  be  least  costly  and  most  convenient, 
and  partly  because  it  would  make  the  smallest  distur- 
bance of  the  space  immediately  before  the  more  impor- 
tant windows  of  the  house.  But  to  get  an  approach  of 
the  least  practicable  steepness  the  place  will  be  entered 
at  the  highest  point  on  M Street — i.e.,  the  south-west 
corner;  then  a quick  turn  will  be  taken  to  the  right,  in 
order  to  avoid  the  ledge,  then,  after  passing  the  ledge, 
another  to  the  left.  On  this  course  a grade  of  one  in 
twelve  and  a half  can  be  had.  (The  grade  on  the  shortest 
course  would  be  one  in  seven.)  Opposite  the  entrance 
to  the  house  there  is  to  be  a nearly  level  space  where 
carriages  can  rest. 

The  caving  bank  made  by  the  cut  for  grade  of  M 
Street  requires  a retaining  wall  four  feet  high  along  the 
front  of  the  lot.  This  will  allow  a low  ridge,  nearly  level 
along  the  top,  to  be  formed  between  the  wheelway  and 
the  street,  making  the  wheelway  safer  and  a less  rela- 
tively important  circumstance  to  the  eye. 

Even  in  the  part  of  the  lot  chosen,  as  being  the  least 
steep,  for  the  house,  a suitable  plateau  for  it  to  stand 
upon  can  only  be  obtained  by  an  embankment  on  the 
south  and  an  excavation  on  the  north.  The  embank- 
ment is  to  be  kept  from  sliding  down  hill  by  a wall  ten 


feet  in  front  of  the  wall  of  the  house.  This 
retaining  wall  is  to  be  built  of  stained  and 
crannied,  refuse  blocks  of  limestone  which 
have  been  formerly  thrown  out  from  the  sur- 
face in  opening  quarries  on  the  back  of  the 
bluff.  They  are  to  be  laid  without  mortar  and 
with  a spreading  base  and  irregular  batter. 
Where  the  ledge  can  be  exposed  they  will  rest 
upon  it,  and  the  undressed  rock  will  form  a 
part  of  the  face  of  the  wall.  A railing  two  and 
a half  feet  high  is  to  be  carried  on  the  top  of 
the  retaining  wall,  and  the  space  (b)  between 
this  and  the  wall  of  the  house  will  be  an  open 
terrace  upon  which  will  open  half-glazed 
French  windows  on  the  south  of  the  library, 
parlor  and  dining-room.  At  c (figure  2)  there  is 
to  be  a little  room  for  plants  in  winter,  the 
sashes  of  which  are  to  be  removed  in  sum- 
mer, when  the  space  is  to  be  shaded  by  a slid- 
ing awning.  At  d a roof  covers  a space  large 
enough  for  a tea  table  or  work  table,  with  a 
circle  of  chairs  about  it,  out  of  the  house 
proper,  forming  a garden  room.  This  roof  is  to 
be  sustained  by  slender  columns  and  lattice- 
work,  and  lattice-work  is  to  be  carried  over  it 
and  the  whole  to  be  overgrown  with  vines 
(Honeysuckle  on  one  side.  Wistaria  on  the  other,  the 
two  mingling  above).  The  space  ee  is  reserved  for  a tiny 
pleasure  garden,  to  be  entered  from  the  house  and  to  be 
considered  much  as  if,  in  summer,  it  were  a part  of  it 
carpeted  with  turf  and  embellished  with  foliage  and 
flowers.  At  / there  is  to  be  a retired  seat  for  reading  and 
intimate  conversation,  and  east  of  this  an  entrance  to 
the  service  gardens,  to  be  described  later.  The  laundry 
yard,  h,  and  the  kitchen  yard,  i,  are  to  be  screened 
by  high  lattices  covered  by  Virginia  Creeper 
[Parthenocissus  quinquefolia].  The  court  yard,  //,  is  to 
be  smoothly  paved  with  asphalt  blocks  or  fire  brick, 
which  it  will  be  easy  to  thoroughly  hose  and  swab 
every  day.  In  one  corner  of  it  is  a brick  ash  house,  k;  in 
another  a dog  house,  m.  The  stable  and  carriage  house 
are  entered  from  the  court  yard,  but  hay  will  be  taken 
into  the  loft  from  a wagon  standing  in  the  passage  to 
the  back  lane.  At  n is  the  stable  yard. 

Landscape  Gardening. — The  soil  to  be  stripped  from 
the  sites  of  the  house,  terrace,  stable,  road  and  walks, 
will  be  sufficient,  when  added  to  that  on  the  ground 
elsewhere,  to  give  full  two  feet  of  soil  wherever  needed 
for  turf  or  planting. 

Trenches,  nowhere  less  than  two  feet  deep,  are  to  be 
made  on  each  side  of  the  approach  road  south  of  the 


24  Ainoldia  1996  Summer 


terrace  and  to  be  filled  with  highly  enriched  soil,  the 
surface  of  which  is  to  slope  upward  with  a slight  con- 
cavity as  it  recedes  from  the  approach.  The  base  of  the 
wall  is  to  merge  irregularly  into  this  slope.  The  space 
between  the  terrace  and  the  street  is  so  divided  by  the 
approach,  and,  in  the  main,  is  so  steep  and  dry,  that  no 
part  of  it  can  be  well  kept  in  turf,  nor  can  trees  be 
planted  in  it,  because  they  would  soon  grow  to  obstruct 
the  southward  view  from  the  house  and  terrace.  The 
steep  dry  ground  and  the  rock  and  rough  wall  of  this 
space  are  to  be  veiled  with  vines  rooting  in  the 
trenches.  The  best  vine  for  this  purpose  is  the  common 
old  clear  green  Japan  Honeysuckle  (Loniceia  Halliana 
/now  L.  japonica  'Halliana'/J.  In  this  sheltered  situation 
it  will  be  verdant  most,  if  not  all,  of  the  winter,  and 
blooming,  not  too  flauntingly,  all 
of  the  summer.  It  can  be  trained 
not  only  over  the  rough,  sloping 
wall  of  the  terrace,  but  also  over 
the  railing  above  it,  and  here  to 
be  kept  closely  trimmed,  so  as  to 
appear  almost  hedgelike.  Also  it 
may  be  trained  up  the  columns  of 
the  shelter  and  along  its  roof;  the 
odor  from  its  bloom  will  be  pleas- 
ing on  the  terrace,  and  will  be  per- 
ceptible, not  oppressively,  at  the 
windows  of  the  second  story. 

Other  vegetation  is  to  be  intro- 
duced sparingly  to  mingle  with  it, 
the  wild  Rose  and  Clematis  of  the 
neighborhood;  the  Akebia  vine 
[Akebia  quinata],  double  flower- 
ing Brambles  [Rubus  ulmifolius  'Bellidiflorus'?],  and, 
in  crevices  of  the  wall,  Rhus  aiomatica,  dwarf 
Brambles,  Cotoneaster  microphylla,  Indian  Fig  [Opun- 
tia  sp.].  Aster,  and  Golden  Rod,  but  none  of  these  in 
conspicuous  bodies,  for  the  space  is  not  too  large  to  be 
occupied  predominatingly  by  a mass  of  foliage  of  a 
nearly  uniform  character.  Near  the  southwest  corner  of 
the  pleasure  garden,  Foisythia  suspensa  is  to  fall  over 
the  wall,  and,  also,  as  a drapery  in  the  extreme  corner 
{because  the  odor  to  those  near  the  bloom  of  it  is  not 
pleasant).  Matrimony  vine  (Lycium  vulgaie  /now  L. 
baibarum]).  Upon  the  walls  of  the  house  east  of  the 
terrace,  Japanese  Ivy  (Ampelopsis  Veitchii  /now 
Parthenocissus  tricuspidata  'Veitchii'/j  is  to  be  grown, 
and  before  it  a bush  of  the  fiery  Thorn  (Cratsegus  Pyra- 
cantha,  /now  Pyiacantha  coccinea]).  For  the  ground  on 
the  street  side  of  the  approach,  pp,  smooth-leaved  shrub 
evergreens  would  be  chosen  were  they  likely  to  thrive. 


But  both  the  limestone  soil  and  the  situation  is  unfa- 
vorable to  them.  Next,  a dark  compact  mass  of  round- 
headed  Conifers  would  best  serve  the  purpose  of  a 
foreground  to  the  distant  view,  but  there  are  none  that 
can  be  depended  on  to  thrive  long  in  the  situation  that 
could  be  kept  within  the  required  bounds  except  by  giv- 
ing them  a stubbed  and  clumsy  form  by  the  use  of  the 
knife.  The  best  available  material  for  a strong,  low 
mass,  with  such  deep  shadows  on  the  side  toward  the 
terrace  as  it  is  desirable  to  secure,  and  which  is  most 
sure  to  thrive  permanently  in  the  rather  dry  and  hot 
situation,  will  be  found  in  the  more  horizontally 
branching  of  the  Thorn  trees  (Ciatxgus),  which  grow 
naturally  in  several  varieties  on  other  parts  of  the  hill. 
Their  heads  may  be  easily  kept  low  enough,  especially 
in  the  case  of  the  Cockspur  (C. 
Crus-galli),  to  leave  the  view  open 
from  the  terrace  without  taking 
lumpy  forms.  But  as  a thicket  of 
these  spreading  thorn  bushes,  fifty 
feet  long,  so  near  the  eye,  might  be 
a little  stiff  and  monotonous,  a few 
shrubs  are  to  be  blended  with 
them,  some  of  which  will  send 
straggling  sprays  above  the  mass 
and  others  give  delicacy,  grace  and 
liveliness,  both  of  color  and  tex- 
ture, to  its  face.  Common  Privet 
[Ligustium  vulgare],  red-twigged 
Dogwood  [Cornus  seiiceaj,  com- 
mon and  purple  Barberry  [Berberis 
vulgaris],  Deutzia  scabra,  Spice- 
bush  [Lindera  benzoin]  and 
Snowberry  ]Symphoricarpos  albus]  may  be  used  for 
the  purpose.  American  Elms  have  already  been  planted 
on  the  lot  adjoining  on  the  east.  The  Wahoo  Elm 
(Ulmus  alata)  and  the  Nettle  tree  (Celtis  occidentalis) 
are  to  be  planted  in  the  space  between  the  approach 
and  the  boundary.  They  will  grow  broodingly  over  the 
road,  not  too  high,  and  mass  homogeneously  with  the 
larger  growing  Elms  beyond.  Near  the  stable  two 
Pecans  (Cary a olivxformis  /now  C.  illinoensis])  are  to 
be  planted.  The  three  trees  last  named  all  grow  in  the 
neighboring  country  and  are  particularly  neat  and 
free  from  insect  pests.  A loose  hedge  of  common  Privet 
having  the  effect  of  a natural  thicket  is  to  grow  along 
the  boundary.  No  other  shrub  grows  as  well  here 
under  trees. 

As  the  pleasure  garden  is  to  be  very  small,  to  be 
closely  associated  with  the  best  rooms,  and  to  be  not 
only  looked  at  but  used,  it  must  be  so  prepared  that  no 


the  natural  beauty  in  which 
the  most  pleasure  is  likely  to  be 
taken  . . . may  be  accomplished 
by  so  bringing  together  materials 
of  varied  graceful  forms  and 
pleasing  tints  that  they  will 
intimately  mingle,  and  this  with 
such  intricate  play  of  light  and 
shade,  that,  though  the  whole 
body  of  them  is  under  close 
observation,  the  eye  is  not  drawn 
to  dwell  upon,  nor  the  mind  to  be 
occupied  with,  details. 


Plan  for  a Small  Homestead  25 


excessive  labor  will  be  needed  (as  in  watering,  mowing, 
sweeping  and  rolling),  to  keep  it  in  superlatively  neat, 
fresh  and  inviting  condition.  No  large  trees  are  to  be 
grown  upon  or  near  it  by  which  it  would  he  overshad- 
owed and  its  moisture  and  fertility  drawn  upon  to  the 
injury  of  the  finer  plantings.  It  must  be  easy  of  use  by 
ladies  when  they  are  shod  and  dressed  for  the  house  and 
not  for  the  street.  Its  surface  is  to  he  studiously  mod- 
eled with  undulations  such  as 
might  be  formed  where  a 
strong  stream  is  turned  aside 
abruptly  into  a deep  and  nar- 
row passage  with  considerable 
descent.  It  will  he  hollowing 
near  the  house  and  the  walk, 
and  will  curl  and  swell,  like 
heavy  canvas  slightly  lifted  hy 
the  wind,  in  the  outer  parts. 

Wherever  it  is  to  be  left  in  turf 
the  undulations  are  to  be  so 
gentle  that  close  mowing, 
rolling  and  sweeping  will  be  easily  practicable.  The 
upper  and  outer  parts  are  to  he  occupied  hy  bushy  foli- 
age compassing  about  all  the  turf;  high  growing  shrubs 
next  the  fences  and  walls;  lower  shrubs  before  them; 
trailers  and  low  herbaceous  plants  before  all.  But  there 
must  be  exceptions  enough  to  this  order  to  avoid  for- 
mality, a few  choice  plants  of  each  class  standing  out 
singly.  The  bushes  are  to  be  planted  thickly,  not  simply 
to  obtain  a good  early  effect,  but  because  they  will  grow 
better  and  with  a more  suitable  character  in  tolerably 
close  companionship.  As  the  good  sense  of  the  lady 
who  is  to  be  mistress  of  this  garden  ranges  more  widely 
than  is  common  beyond  matters  of  taste,  it  may  be 
hoped  that  due  thinnings  will  be  made  from  year  to 
year  and  that  the  usual  mutilation  of  bushes  under  the 
name  of  pruning  will  be  prevented. 

The  following  little  trees  and  bushes  may  be  used  for 
the  higher  range:  The  common,  trustworthy  sorts  of 
Lilac  [Syringa  vulgaris].  Bush-honeysuckle  [Diervilla 
sessifoliaj,  Mock-orange  [Philadelphus],  Forsythia, 
Weigelia,  the  Buffalo-berry  (Shepardia),  common  Bar- 
berry, the  Cornelian  Cherry  [Cornus  mas]  and  the  red 
twigged  Dogwood.  In  the  second  tier,  Missouri  Currant 
[Ribes  odoratum],  Clethra  [C.  alnifolia],  Calycanthus 
[C.  floridus],  Jersey  Tea  fCeanothus  americanus],  Japa- 


nese Quince  [Chaenomeles  japonica],  Japanese  Maho- 
nia  [M.  japonica],  Spiraeas,  and  the  Mezereon  Daphne 
[D.  mezereum]. 

In  the  third  tier,  Deutzia  gracilis,  Oregon  Grape 
[Mahonia  aquifolium],  flowering  Almond  (white  and 
red)  [Prunus  triloba].  Spiraea  Thunbergii  and  S. 
Japonica,  Waxberry  [Myrica  pensylvanicai].  Daphne 
Cneorum,  small-leaved  Cotoneaster,  and  the 
Goatsbeard  Spiraea  [Aruncus 
dioicus].  The  Virginia  Creeper 
is  to  be  planted  against  the 
walls  of  the  house,  Chinese 
Wistarias  near  the  garden 
room.  Oleanders,  Rhododen- 
drons, Figs,  Azaleas  and  Bam- 
boos, grown  in  tubs,  are  to  be 
set  upon  the  terrace  in  sum- 
mer. They  are  to  be  kept  in  a 
cold  pit  during  the  winter. 

The  service  garden  [gg.  Fig. 
2)  will  have  a slope  of  one  to 
five  inclining  to  the  south.  It  is  intended  only  for  such 
supplies  to  the  house  as  cannot  always  be  obtained  in 
the  public  market  in  the  fresh  condition  desirable,  and 
is  divided  as  follows: 

g 1.  Roses  and  other  plants  to  provide  cut  flowers 
and  foliage  for  interior  house  decoration; 
g 2.  Small  fruits; 

g 3.  Radishes,  salad  plants.  Asparagus,  Peas,  etc.; 
g 4.  Mint,  Parsley,  Sage,  and  other  flavoring  and 
garnishing  plants  for  the  kitchen, 
g 5.  Cold-frame,  wintering-pit,  hot-beds,  compost- 
bin,  manure-tank,  garden-shed  and  tool-closet. 

Brookline,  Mass.,  14th  April,  1888 

"Plan  for  a Small  Homestead"  was  published  in  Volume  I of 
Garden  and  Forest  (May  2,  1888),  pages  1 1 1-1 13.  The  first 
two  quotations  in  the  editor's  introduction  are  from  "Report 
Upon  a Projected  Improvement  of  the  Estate  of  the  College 
of  California,  at  Berkeley,  Near  Oakland,"  June  19,  1866,  in 
The  Papers  of  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  Volume  V,  The 
California  Frontier,  1863-1865,  edited  by  Victoria  Post 
Ranney,  Gerard  J.  Rauluk,  and  Carolyn  F.  Hoffman 
(Baltimore:  Johns  Hopkins  University  Press,  1990),  548.  The 
last  quotation  is  from  a letter  of  April  28,  1864,  to  Henry 
Whitney  Bellows,  ibid.,  226. 


the  pleasure  garden[’s]  . . . surface  is  to 
be  studiously  modeled  with  undulations 
such  as  might  be  formed  where  a strong 
stream  is  turned  aside  abruptly  into  a 
deep  and  narrow  passage  with  consider- 
able descent.  It  will  be  hollowing  near 
the  house  and  the  walk,  and  will  curl 
and  swell,  like  heavy  canvas  slightly 
lifted  by  the  wind,  in  the  outer  parts. 


ELIOT  FOULDS,  NPS,  OI  MSTED  CENTER  FOR  LANDSCAPE  PRESERVATION 


Notes  on  Restoring  the  Woody  Plants  of  Fairsted 

Lauren  Meier 


The  restoration  of  the  Olmsted  landscape  at  Fairsted  is  a complex  undertaking, 
requiring  extensive  historical  research  and  documentation,  landscape  analysis 
and  planning,  and  finally,  implementation  and  maintenance.  In  this  article,  the 
project  manager  reviews  the  part  of  the  process  that  deals  with  woody  plants. 


In  1991  the  National  Park  Service  began  restor- 
ing the  1.74-acre  landscape  of  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted's  home  and  office  in  Brookline,  Massa- 
chusetts, with  a view  to  creating  a living  exhibit 
of  his  design  process  and  principles.  This  project 
has  enabled  us  to  study  in  a very  detailed  way 
Olmsted's  use  of  woody  plants  in  a small-scale 
residential  landscape.  The  project  has  also 
served  as  a testing  ground  for  methods  and  tech- 


niques of  vegetation  management  that  may  be 
applied  at  historic  sites  around  the  United 
States. 

Olmsted  incorporated  many  plants  already 
on  the  site  into  his  design,  most  notably  a mag- 
nificent American  elm,  as  well  as  a broad  range 
of  other  woody  plants,  both  natives  and  non- 
natives. The  final  design — a diverse  landscape 
of  undulating  lawn  (the  south  lawn),  a rustic 


Volunteer  trees — predominantly  Norway  maples  (Acer  platanoides)  with  some  Japanese  maples  (A.  palmatum) 
and  sweet  birch  (Betula  lenta) — on  the  west  slope  of  Fairsted  as  they  appeared  in  the  spring  of  1994. 


ELIOT  FOULDS,  NPS,  OLMSTED  CENTER  FOR  LANDSCAPE  PRESERVATION 


Restoring  Woody  Plants  11 


dell  (called  the  Hollow),  a rocky  outcropping 
(the  rock  garden),  a bank  of  trees  and  shrubs 
(the  west  slope),  a circular  drive,  and  service 
areas — illustrates  in  miniature  his  own  domes- 
tic landscape  ideals.  (For  a plan  of  the  property, 
see  page  6.) 

Rich  documentation  exists  for  both  the  origi- 
nal design  of  the  landscape  at  the  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted  National  Historic  Site  and  for  changes 


that  occurred  over  time.  Plans,  photographs,  and 
planting  lists,  when  combined  with  the  results 
of  tree  coring  and  archeology,  reveal  the  history 
of  most  plants  on  the  site.  This  wealth  of  docu- 
mentation has  been  compiled  into  a two- 
volume  cultural  landscape  report  by  landscape 
historian  Cynthia  Zaitzevsky  and  the  staff  of 
the  National  Park  Service  with  technical  assis- 
tance from  the  Arnold  Arboretum.  It  is  on  the 
basis  of  this  documentation 
that  the  National  Park  Service 
is  restoring  the  landscape  to 
its  appearance  at  the  end  of 
the  1920s,  when  the  Olmsted 
Brothers  firm  was  at  the  height 
of  its  activity  and  the  landscape 
still  retained  the  overall  organi- 
zation and  design  created  by 
Olmsted  Sr.  before  his  death  in 
1903. 

The  documentation  shows 
that  the  landscape  changed 
after  1930  in  ways  that  ob- 
scured some  of  its  original 
qualities.  Most  notable  was  the 
reduction  in  diversity  and  num- 
bers of  shrubs.  Volunteer  trees, 
primarily  Norway  and  Japanese 
maples  (Acer  platanoides  and 
A.  palmatum),  altered  the 
canopy  and  the  site's  spatial 
organization,  while  growth  in 
all  trees  and  shrubs  altered 
sun  and  shade  conditions  and 
reduced  available  growing 
space.  Where  seven  vines  had 
been  growing  on  the  building 
walls  and  spruce  pole  fence  in 
1930,  only  two  (Wisteria 
sinensis  and  Actinidia  arguta) 
remained  in  1991.  Later  addi- 
tions, such  as  the  1960s 
plantings  of  rhododendrons, 
hemlock,  and  yew,  had  also 
altered  the  original  design. 

At  the  start  of  the  renovation 
in  1994,  all  trees  and  shrubs 
not  present  in  1930 — some 
two  hundred  plants — were 
removed,  and  many  of  the 


Restoration  of  the  west  slope  began  in  October,  1994.  On  the  property 
overall,  some  two  hundred  trees  and  shrubs  not  present  in  1930  were 
removed. 


28  Ainoldia  1 996  Summer 


remaining  plants  were  pruned  to  greatly  in- 
crease sunlight  penetration.  Organic  compost 
was  added  to  the  soil  to  overcome  years  of 
nutrient  depletion  in  a landscape  dominated 
hy  exposed  bedrock.  An  above-ground,  seasonal 
irrigation  system — a field  pipe  buried  a few 
inches  under  leaf  mulch  with  spigots  at  every 
fifty  feet — was  installed  around  the  site  periph- 
ery for  watering  new  plantings. 

Olmsted's  planting  designs  were  typically 
lush  and  diverse  in  species.  The  task  now  under- 
way is  to  reestablish  the  plants  present  in  the 
late  1920s  but  since  lost.  Rich  though  the  docu- 
mentation is,  it  is  not  definitive,  and  gaps  have 
had  to  he  filled  by  informed  assumptions.  Nor 
has  it  been  possible  to  carry  out  an  entirely  pure 
restoration:  alterations  in  planting  designs  have 
been  required — especially  in  quantities  of 
plants — to  allow  for  plant  growth  and  to  create 
a sustainable  design.  Following  is  an  overview 
of  some  of  the  types  of  problems  confronted  by 
the  restoration  team. 

Scale 

Many  of  Fairsted's  woody  plants  have  grown 
dramatically  since  the  landscape  was  developed 
between  1883  and  1930.  Some  of  these  plants, 
such  as  the  cucumber  magnolia  (Magnolia 
acuminata),  blend  gracefully  into  the  landscape, 
while  others,  especially  certain  shrubs,  have 
outgrown  their  location.  In  the  Hollow,  which 
was  both  heavily  planted  and  limited  in  space, 
this  problem  was  especially  acute  at  the  start 
of  the  restoration.  One  solution  was  to  lightly 
prune  the  rosebay  rhododendrons  (Rhododen- 
dron maximum)  to  encourage  new,  vigorous 
growth  and  to  make  space  for  other  shrubs 
included  in  the  original  plans  but  now  absent. 

The  existing  yews  proved  more  challenging, 
especially  along  the  Dudley  Street  bank.  The 
English  yews  (Taxus  baccata)  were  heavily 
pruned  to  make  way  for  rejuvenated  growth 
within  a much  smaller  area.  The  upright  form 
of  the  Japanese  yew  (T.  cuspidata),  on  the  other 
hand,  adapts  less  well  to  hard  pruning.  An  espe- 
cially large  specimen  (18-foot  canopy)  was 
removed  and  will  be  replaced  with  a smaller 
one.  In  the  rock  garden,  where  space  is  less 
constrained,  another  large  Japanese  yew  was 
successfully  pruned  to  make  room  for 
underplanting  without  sacrificing  its  pictur- 
esque form. 


Competition  Between  Old  and  New  Plants 

Over  the  years,  root  space  had  also  become  lim- 
ited, and  the  numbers  of  plants  to  be  reintro- 
duced is  so  voluminous  (66  trees,  632  shrubs, 
129  vines,  and  2,875  herbaceous  plants),  that 
careful  analysis  of  available  space  and  sunlight 
was  required.  In  some  instances,  the  restoration 
required  either  pruning  or  removing  existing 
shrubs,  such  as  the  Japanese  yew.  In  other  loca- 
tions, the  design's  intended  effect  was  achieved 
by  reducing  the  numbers  of  plants  from  that 
indicated  on  historic  plans.  This  was  the  case 
with  certain  shrub  massings,  such  as  a group 
of  English  weeping  yew  (Taxus  baccata 
'Repandens'J  in  the  Hollow  and  a large  col- 
lection of  drooping  leucothoe  (Leucothoe 
fontanesiana)  and  mountain  andromeda  (Pieris 
floribunda)  along  the  south  lawn. 

Availability  of  Original  Plants 

The  woody  plant  species  at  Eairsted  include 
those  native  to  the  Northeast  as  well  as  exotic 
species  in  cultivation  between  1883  and  1930. 
In  any  restoration  project,  locating  the  exact  his- 
toric species  or  cultivar  is  a difficult  task.  Eor 
example,  Salix  tristis  was  identified  on  a 1923 
plan  and  on  the  planting  order  for  the  Hollow, 
but  the  plants  seen  in  historical  photographs 
were  not  consistent  with  specimens  currently 
available  in  commercial  nurseries.  Since  willow 
species  hybridize  freely  and  are  typically  vari- 
able, it  is  possible  that  the  Salix  tristis  of  the 
mid-1920s  was  renamed.  Consultation  with 
staff  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum  and  research  in 
published  floras  of  the  northeastern  United 
States  confirmed  that  it  is  now  known  as  Salix 
humilis  or  S.  humilis  var.  tristis,  a shrub  willow 
native  to  coastal  shores  in  northern  New 
England.  However,  it  has  not  yet  been  located  in 
commercial  cultivation,  so  custom  propagation 
of  plants  from  the  wild  or  from  a botanic  garden 
may  be  required. 

Susceptibility  of  Old  Plants  to  Disease  or 
Other  Problems 

The  goal  of  the  restoration  of  the  Olmsted 
National  Historic  Site  is  to  reestablish  an 
example  of  Olmsted's  rich  planting  design  with 
a high  degree  of  historical  accuracy.  Especially 
important  are  certain  individual  trees  and  shrubs 
that  are  crucial  to  the  overall  design.  For  this 
reason — and  because  the  level  of  maintenance 


Restoring  Woody  Plants  29 


f 


Frederick  Law 

OLMSTED 

National  Historic  Site 
"Fairsted" 


Warren  Street 


($> 


The  planting  plan  for  the  restoration  of  the  Hollow  and  part  of  the  front  drive  at  Fairsted  is  based  on  many 
historic  plans,  planting  lists,  and  photographs,  as  well  as  surviving  plants.  Plants  and  their  quantities  are: 


Common  boxwood  (Buxus  sempervirens)  1 
Native  barberry  (Berberis  vulgaris)  1 
Rock  cotoneaster  (Cotoneaster  horizontalis)  14 
Common  quince  (Cydonia  oblonga)  4 
Downy  hawthorn  (Crataegus  mollis)  1 
Dwarf  bush  honeysuckle  (Diervilla  lonicera)  26 
Bush  honeysuckle  (Diervilla  sessifolia)  5 
Winged  euonymus  (Euonymus  alata)  6 
Wintercreeper  euonymus  (Euonymus  fortune! 
var.  radicans)  74 

Chinese  juniper  (funiperus  chinensis)  4 
Common  juniper  (funiperus  communis)  5 
Mountain  laurel  (Kalmia  latifolia)  5 
Tulip  tree  (Liriodendron  tulipifera)  1 
Cucumber  magnolia  (Magnolia  acuminata)  1 


Scarlet  firethorn  (Pyracantha  coccinea)  1 
Red  oak  (Quercus  rubra)  1 

Rosebay  rhododendron  (Rhododendron  maximum)  1 
Schlippenbach  rhododendron  (Rhododendron 
schlippenbachii)  2 
Shrub  willow  (Salix  tristis)  39 
Common  lilac  (Syringa  vulgaris)  2 
English  yew  (Taxus  baccata)  5 
English  weeping  yew  (Taxus  baccata  'Repandens'j 
11 

Canadian  yew  (Taxus  canadensis)  16 
Japanese  yew  'Capitata'  (Taxus  cuspidata 
'Capitata'j  3 

Japanese  yew  'Nana'  (Taxus  cuspidata  'Nana'j  7 
Yellowroot  (Xanthorhiza  simplicissima)  25 


DRAWN  BY  CATHERINE  MORRIS,  Nl’S,  OLMSTED  CENTER  FOR  LANDSCAPE  PRESERVATION 


JOHN  FURLONG 


The  Hollow  in  its  present  state  of  restoration.  Plants  not  present  in  1 930  have  been  removed  and  some  of  the 
missing  ones  have  been  replaced.  The  planting  in  this  small  garden  was  enhanced  in  the  mid-1920s  to  create, 
as  Hans  Koehler  wrote  to  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  fr.,  “a  place  that  we  should  be  proud  to  take  clients  into, 
and  a place  of  interest  to  and  for  study  by  the  men  in  the  office.  ” 


will  be  very  high — the  restoration  will  include 
species  with  higher  susceptibility  to  pests  and 
diseases  than  would  he  acceptable  where  the 
historical  integrity  of  the  woody  plants  is  less 
important.  For  example,  to  ensure  consistency 
with  the  original  landscape,  the  American  elm 
missing  from  the  northern  edge  of  the  circular 
drive  will  he  replaced  with  another  American 
elm  in  spite  of  its  susceptibility  to  Dutch  elm 
disease.  Similarly,  the  white  ash  (Fraxinus 
ameiicana)  that  was  originally  located  east  of 
the  rock  garden  will  be  replaced  in  kind  despite 
the  species'  vulnerability  to  rust,  horers,  and 
ash  yellows.  Like  the  American  elm,  this  tree 
will  be  carefully  monitored;  if  the  replacements 
do  not  prove  viable,  the  decision  to  replace 
these  individuals  with  the  original  species  will 
be  reevaluated. 

Landscape  vs  Architecture 

Vines  presented  one  of  the  most  challenging 
aspects  of  the  restoration.  Olmsted  covered  all 
structures  with  a profusion  of  climbing  plant 
material.  This  constitutes  an  essential  feature  of 
the  site's  historic  character,  but  it  also  damages 


the  clapboard  building  walls,  which  must  be 
preserved  as  well.  The  solution  is  a trellis  sys- 
tem constructed  of  spiraled  steel  strapping  that 
provides  a substrate  for  the  twining  vines  (Wist- 
eria and  Actinidia).  Snap  hooks  allow  for  the 
vines  to  be  lifted  away  from  the  house  when 
repair  work  or  painting  is  required.  The  trellis 
thus  provides  sufficient  distance  between  the 
wood  facade  and  plant  material  to  allow  for  air 
circulation,  thereby  minimizing  moisture  dam- 
age. Other  vines  that  will  be  replaced  on  the 
arch  and  fence  as  well  as  the  buildings  are 
wintercreeper  euonymus  (Euonymus  fortuneii 
var.  radicans),  Dutchman's  pipe  (Aristolochia 
macrophylla),  Boston  ivy  (Parthenocissus 
tricuspidata),  Virginia  creeper  (Parthenocissus 
quinquefolia),  and  English  ivy  (Hedera  helix). 

Planning  for  the  Replacement  of 
Significant  Plants 

Several  of  the  plants  at  Fairsted  are  character- 
defining features  of  great  historical  significance. 
First  and  foremost,  because  of  its  association 
with  Olmsted  as  well  as  its  great  age,  is  the 
American  elm  on  the  south  lawn.  Already  a 


COURTESY  OF  THE  NATIONAL  PARK  SERVICE,  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED  NATIONAL  HISTORIC  SITE 


Restoring  Woody  Plants  31 


large  tree  when  Olmsted  acquired  the  property, 
he  planned  the  entire  landscape  around  it.  Other 
plants  on  the  site  are  significant  for  their  horti- 
cultural characteristics.  Plants  such  as  these 
that  are  in  decline  or  potentially  unavailable  for 
replacement  are  being  vegetatively  propagated 
at  the  Arnold  Arboretum.  Cuttings  or  grafts 
were  propagated  at  the  Dana  Greenhouses  and 
are  kept  in  a special  nursery  to  grow  until  a 
replacement  is  needed. 


that  would  be  difficult  to  duplicate  in  most  res- 
toration projects.  An  important  byproduct  will 
be  the  reports  published  by  the  Olmsted  Center 
for  Landscape  Preservation  on  the  methods  and 
techniques  that  have  been  developed  for  this 
project.  But  in  the  end,  perhaps  the  most  valu- 
able result — for  both  interested  professionals 
and  casual  visitors  alike — will  be  the  reestab- 
lishment of  a living  example  of  Olmsted's  prin- 
ciples of  planting  design. 


Restoring  Fairsted's  landscape  with  an  exacti- 
tude that  can  communicate  the  design  prin- 
ciples of  the  Olmsted  firms  has  required  the 
combined  efforts  of  historians,  landscape  archi- 
tects, taxonomists,  horticulturists,  and  grounds 
staff.  A wealth  of  historical  documentation 
together  with  a very  high  level  of  technical 
expertise  has  permitted  an  attention  to  detail 


Lauren  Meier  is  a historical  landscape  architect  with  the 
Olmsted  Center  for  Landscape  Preservation  of  the 
National  Park  Service,  which  is  based  at  Fairsted.  This 
article  is  adapted  from  her  contribution  to  A Forum  on 
Vegetation  Management  for  Historic  Sites,  to  be 
published  in  1997  by  the  Arnold  Arboretum  and  the 
Olmsted  Center  for  Landscape  Preservation  of  the 
National  Park  Service. 


The  drawing  and  photograph  illustrate  the  trellis  system  that  was  developed  at  Fairsted  to  support  the  twining 
vines  Wisteria  sinensis  and  Actinidia  arguta.  Constructed  of  spiraled  steel  strapping,  snap  hooks  permit  the 
vines  to  be  lifted  away  from  the  house  for  maintenance. 


JOHN  FURLONG 


'Rose  Lantern':  A New  Cultivar  of  Koelreuteria 
paniculata,  the  Golden-Rain  Tree 

Frank  S.  Santamour,  Jr.,  and  Stephen  A.  Spongberg 


Modern  techniques  of  molecular  biology  can  be  a valuable  tool  in  unravelling 
the  confusion  that  occasionally  surrounds  important  horticultural  plants. 


The  discovery  of  a new  cultivar  sometimes 
involves  a degree  of  serendipity,  particularly 
when  one  has  known  the  plant  in  question  for 
many  years  and  has  assumed  that  it  was  cor- 
rectly identified  when  it  was  received.  These 
circumstances  certainly  apply  to  the  situation 
recounted  here,  and  we  hope  that  this  article 
will  help  to  resolve  any  confusion  that  may 
have  arisen  surrounding  two  very  prominent 
trees  growing  in  the  collections  of  the  Arnold 
Arboretum. 

On  October  7,  1994,  the  senior  author  (FSS, 
Jr.)  was  visiting  the  Arnold  Arboretum,  and  the 
junior  author  (SAS)  was  pleased  to  be  able  to 
accompany  his  colleague  from  the  United  States 
National  Arboretum  through  the  Arboretum's 
collections  and  to  help  locate  plants  of  particu- 
lar interest.  Two  accessions  of  Koelreuteria 
paniculata  Laxmann  were  pointed  out,  along 
with  plants  of  the  same  species  of  a somewhat 
smaller  stature  that  had  been  grown  from  seed 
collected  in  Korea  in  1977  by  Spongberg  and 
Richard  E.  Weaver,  Jr.  (Spongberg,  1978).  While 
the  plants  of  Korean  provenance  were  of  interest 
because  of  their  habit,  the  senior  author  was 
truly  astonished  by  the  two  older  accessions 
(AA  577-66  and  771-68),  which  were  labeled  as 
the  cultivar  'September'.  Knowing  this  cultivar 
only  from  the  Arboretum  accessions,  the  junior 
author  was  likewise  surprised  to  hear  that  the 
Arboretum  plants  differed  from  the  true  'Sep- 
tember' by  virtue  of  their  rosy-red  capsules.  He 
wondered  how  this  could  possibly  be,  particu- 
larly since  the  older  accession  had  been  received 
from  the  National  Arboretum,  the  institution 
that  had  helped  to  make  'September'  widely 
available  in  the  mid-1960s.  The  explanation 
requires  that  we  start  at  the  beginning  and  trace 


the  history  of  Koelreuteria  paniculata  'Septem- 
ber' as  well  as  the  "discovery"  of  'Rose  Lantern', 
the  cultivar  name  we  have  chosen  for  the  two 
Arnold  Arboretum  trees. 

Between  August  25th  and  27th  of  1958,  the 
late  Joseph  C.  McDaniel  of  the  University  of 
Illinois'  Department  of  Horticulture,  attended  a 
meeting  of  the  American  Institute  of  Biological 
Sciences  on  the  campus  of  Indiana  University 
in  Bloomington.  While  there,  he  was  surprised 
to  see  two  mature  trees  of  Koelreuteria  in 
full  flower  so  late  in  the  growing  season:  most 
golden-rain  trees  flower  in  late  June  and 
early  July,  and  the  capsules  on  their  large 
infructescences  have  already  developed  by 
mid-August.  McDaniel  continued  to  observe 
these  trees  for  several  years  and  found  that  they 
consistently  flowered  from  late  August  into 
early  September. 

Seeds  from  these  trees  were  subsequently 
distributed  to  several  attendees  at  the  1960 
meeting  of  the  International  Plant  Propagators 
Society,  Eastern  Region.  In  addition,  on  Decem- 
ber 5,  1960,  seeds  of  the  more  floriferous  of  the 
two  trees  were  supplied  to  Sylvester  G.  March  at 
the  National  Arboretum,  where  the  seed  lot  was 
given  the  accession  number  NA  16548.  Several 
seedlings  of  this  accession  were  planted  in  a 
nursery  at  the  National  Arboretum  in  1961.  The 
first  of  these  plants  flowered  and  fruited  in  1965, 
and  all  of  the  them  flowered  in  1966;  in  both 
years  none  flowered  earlier  than  August  20.  In 
1966,  according  to  National  Arboretum  records, 
six  seed-grown  plants  of  this  accession  were 
growing  in  the  nursery,  ranging  between  nine 
and  eleven  feet  in  height.  The  records  show  that 
the  plants  varied  in  the  size  of  their  capsules, 
but  no  other  attributes  were  recorded,  and  none 


Rose  Lantern  33 


The  large  inflorescences  of  the  golden-rain  tree  produce  hundreds  of  bright  yellow  flowers  and  enliven  any  landscape  in 
which  the  tree  is  planted.  Normally,  the  trees  flower  in  late  June  and  July,  but  the  cultivars  ‘September’  and  ‘Rose  Lantern’ 
postpone  their  floral  display  until  late  August  and  early  September  when  few  other  trees  are  in  flower. 


has  ever  been  given  a cultivar  name. 

In  a letter  to  March  dated  January  28,  1966, 
Professor  McDaniel  suggested  that  these  trees, 
as  well  as  the  parent  trees  at  the  University 
of  Indiana,  might  conform  to  Koelreuteria 
apiculata  Rehder  &.  Wilson.  In  his  response  that 
September,  March  noted  that  Frederick  G. 
Meyer  of  the  National  Arboretum  staff  believed 
that  the  trees  were  merely  late-flowering  vari- 
ants of  K.  paniculata.  Indeed,  in  his  subsequent 
monograph  of  the  genus,  Meyer  (1976)  placed 
both  the  specific  and  varietal  designations  of 
apiculata  in  the  synonymy  of  K.  paniculata. 

The  late  Donald  Wyman,  then  Horticulturist 
at  the  Arnold  Arboretum,  had  received  a carbon 
copy  of  McDaniel's  1966  letter  to  March,  and 
in  February  of  that  year  he  wrote  to  March 
requesting  seeds  or  seedlings  from  the  National 
Arboretum  trees  for  the  Arnold  Arboretum  col- 


lections. Since  neither  seeds  nor  seedlings  were 
available,  March  offered  root  cuttings  for  propa- 
gation. In  his  typical  fashion,  Wyman  penned 
his  response  to  this  offer  on  the  original  letter 
and  returned  it  to  March,  commenting,  "We  can 
certainly  try  root  cuttings,  if  you  can  spare 
them,  but  don't  hurt  the  tree."  Sixteen  root 
pieces  from  one  or  more  of  the  six  seed-grown 
plants  at  the  National  Arboretum  (NA  16548) 
were  subsequently  sent  to  Wyman  on  March  21 . 
At  the  Arnold  Arboretum  these  materials  were 
accessioned  as  "K.  paniculata — Special,"  and 
given  accession  number  AA  577-66. 

In  1967  McDaniel  and  March  described  and 
proposed  the  cultivar  name  'September'  for  the 
most  floriferous  of  the  two  late-flowering  trees 
growing  at  the  University  of  Indiana,  which  by 
that  time  was  being  propagated  by  softwood  cut- 
tings. This  cultivar  name  was  duly  registered 


34  Ainoldia  1996  Summer 


with  the  Arnold  Arboretum  (which  at  that  time 
served  as  International  Registration  Authority 
for  cultivar  names  of  otherwise  unassigned 
woody  genera),  and  a fruiting  specimen  col- 
lected from  the  Indiana  tree  on  September  28, 
1966,  was  deposited  in  the  Arboretum's  famaica 
Plain  herbarium  to  document  the  plant  to 
which  this  cultivar  name  was  applied.  It  was  not 
until  November,  1968,  that  the  National  Arbo- 
retum received  a plant  of  'September'  vegeta- 
tively  propagated  from  the  University  of  Indiana 
original.  The  four-inch-tall  rooted  cutting  that 
Professor  McDaniel  sent  was  accessioned  as  NA 
31132.  Four  additional  individuals  of  'Septem- 
ber' were  subsequently  incorporated  into  the 
National  Arboretum's  collections,  but  accession 
records  for  these  plants  are  missing. 

Meanwhile,  only  a single  plant  resulted  at 
the  Arnold  Arboretum  from  the  sixteen  root 
pieces  that  had  been  received  from  the  National 
Arboretum  and  accessioned  under  number  AA 
577-66.  And  once  McDaniel  and  March  had 
published  the  cultivar  name  'September',  the 
assumption  was  made  that  the  Arnold 
Arboretum's  solitary  plant  represented  this 
clone.  Consequently,  its  name  in  the 
Arboretum's  records  was  changed  from  "Spe- 
cial" to  'September'  in  1969,  and  the  sole  repre- 
sentative was  planted  adjacent  to  other 
golden-rain  trees  in  a prominent  position  along 
Meadow  Road,  across  from  the  Cotinus  and 
Acer  collections.  One  additional  plant,  propa- 
gated in  1968  as  a rooted  softwood  cutting  from 
AA  577-66  and  given  accession  number  AA  771- 
68,  was  incorporated  into  the  Arboretum's  col- 
lections in  another  prominent  location,  on  the 
edge  of  Bussey  Hill  Road  where  the  birch  and 
cherry  collections  merge.  Both  of  these  trees 
begin  flowering  during  the  last  weeks  of  August 
and  continue  to  please  visitors  to  the  Arbore- 
tum with  their  bright  yellow  floral  display  into 
the  month  of  September,  followed  by  their 
equally  handsome  display  of  reddish  pink 
capsules  into  October  and  November.  (The  cap- 
sules can  be  seen  on  the  inside  front  cover.) 

The  next  sequence  of  events  began  in  1984, 
when  the  senior  author,  along  with  his  col- 
league at  the  National  Arboretum,  Alice  J. 
McArdle,  attempted  to  hybridize  Koelreuteria 
paniculata  and  K.  bipinnata  Franchet.  The  lat- 


ter species  is  native  to  areas  south  of  the  30th 
parallel  in  China  and  is  not  as  cold  hardy  as  K. 
paniculata.  In  1984  the  National  Arboretum 
collections  included  two  thirty-foot  trees  of  K. 
bipinnata  (NA  34048)  as  well  as  four  smaller 
specimens  (NA  44305).  Both  of  these  accessions 
had  been  received  from  the  Los  Angeles  State 
and  County  Arboretum  in  Arcadia,  California, 
in  1972  and  1980,  respectively,  and  the  trees  of 
the  older  accession  were  vigorous  plants  with 
upright  crowns.  Meyer  (1976)  had  described  the 
color  of  the  capsules  of  K.  bipinnata  as  "rose- 
purple  while  young,"  and  in  some  years  the 
fruiting  display  on  the  National  Arboretum 
trees  was  truly  spectacular. 

The  goal  of  the  interspecific  hybridization 
program  was  to  combine  the  upright  growth 
habit  and  reddish  capsule  color  of  Koelreuteria 
bipinnata  with  the  cold  hardiness  of  K. 
paniculata.  Because  K.  bipinnata  normally 
flowers  in  late  August  and  early  September,  K. 
paniculata  'September' — in  flower  during  the 
same  period — was  the  obvious  choice  for  the 
paniculata  parent  in  the  hybridization  experi- 
ments. Hybrids  between  the  two  species  were 
indeed  obtained,  and  McArdle  and  Santamour 
(1987)  were  able  to  verify  the  hybrid  status  of 
the  seedlings  using  a process  known  as  gel  elec- 
trophoresis on  isoperoxidase  enzymes  extracted 
from  tissue  at  the  base  of  leaf  petioles.  This  pro- 
cess is  similar  to  the  DNA  analysis  of  human 
tissue  that  is  increasingly  used  in  today's  foren- 
sic laboratories.  The  researchers  analyzed  hun- 
dreds of  hybrid  plants  and  found  only  three 
major  anodal  peroxidase  bands — "A,"  "B,"  and 
"C."  The  enzyme  profile  of  'September'  proved 
to  be  "AC,"  while  that  of  all  six  plants  of  K. 
bipinnata  used  in  the  hybridization  program 
was  "B." 

Twelve  of  the  progeny  from  crossing  'Septem- 
ber' as  the  seed  parent  with  K.  bipinnata  as  the 
pollen  parent  were  identified  as  "true"  hybrids 
inasmuch  as  they  exhibited  enzyme  patterns  of 
either  "AB"  or  "BC,"  with  the  "B"  band  inher- 
ited from  K.  bipinnata  and  either  the  "A"  or 
"C"  band  coming  from  K.  paniculata.  Further 
confirmation  came  from  later  studies  of 
isoperoxidases  in  cambial  tissue  (Santamour, 
unpublished),  which  yielded  enzyme  banding 
patterns  identical  with  those  obtained  earlier 
from  petiolar  tissue.  The  interspecific  hybrids. 


Rose  Lantern  35 


The  oldest  plant  of  Koelreuteria  paniculata  ‘Rose  Lantern’  in  the  Arnold  Arboretum  grows  along  Meadow  Road  across 
from  the  Cotinus  and  Acer  collections.  As  can  he  seen  in  this  photograph,  it  has  a rounded  habit.  It  measured  34  feet  in 
height  with  a crown  spread  of  40  feet  in  July  of  1996.  Note  that  the  K.  paniculata  on  the  left  is  in  fruit  while  ‘Rose  Lantern' 
is  in  flower. 


planted  at  the  United  States  Department  of 
Agriculture  Station  at  Glenn  Dale,  Maryland,  in 
1986,  have  exhibited  hybrid  vigor  in  their 
growth  rate  (they  were  twice  as  tall  as  equal- 
age  seedlings  of  the  parent  species  in  1994),  yet 
unfortunately,  the  hoped-for  capsule  color  had 
not  been  captured. 

It  was  because  of  the  senior  author's  failed 
attempts  to  produce  a hardy,  red-fruited  plant  of 
the  golden-rain  tree  through  hybridization  of 
the  normally  red-fruited  Koelreuteria  bipinnata 
with  K.  paniculata  that  he  was  literally  dumb- 
founded when  he  visited  the  Arnold  Arboretum 
in  the  fall  of  1994.  For  there,  growing  along 
Meadow  and  Bussey  Hill  Roads,  were  two 
golden-rain  trees  with  rosy-red  capsules  glowing 
like  Japanese  or  Chinese  lanterns  in  the  October 
sunshine — the  very  plants  he  had  hoped  to  syn- 


thesize through  hybridization,  except  that  the 
Arnold  Arboretum  trees  exhibit  a rounded 
rather  than  an  upright  growth  habit.  And  both  of 
these  trees,  as  explained  above,  were  labeled  as 
representing  the  cultivar  'September'.  Not 
convinced  of  their  identity,  the  senior  author 
collected  material  from  the  younger  tree  (AA 
771-68)  for  enzyme  analysis.  There  was  the  out- 
side possibility  that  these  Arnold  Arboretum 
trees  did  indeed  represent  'September',  and  that 
geographic  location  and  climatic  differences 
between  Boston  and  Washington,  DC,  were 
responsible  for  the  development  of  their  rosy- 
red  capsules,  which  are  most  highly  colored 
on  the  surfaces  exposed  to  the  sun.  (This  phe- 
nomenon is  a typical  response  to  sunlight  of 
anthocyanin  pigments,  which  are  frequently 
responsible  for  imparting  a red  coloration  in 
plant  tissues  and  structures.) 


PETER  DEL  TREDICI 


36  Arnoldia  1996  Summer 


Since  electrophoretic  analyses  of  cambial  tis- 
sue confirmed  that  the  oldest  National  Arbore- 
tum specimen  of  'September'  (NA  31132) 
carried  the  enzyme  phenotype  "AC,"  as  did  the 
other  four  trees  known  as  'September'  at  the 
National  Arboretum,  the  question  became:  Did 
the  Arnold  Arboretum  tree  have  the  same 
enzyme  profile?  No!  It  produced  only  one 
enzyme  band  in  electrophoretic  analysis,  the 
"A"  band.  The  six  unnamed  seed-grown  plants 
at  the  National  Arboretum  accessioned  as  NA 
16548 — the  plants  from  which  the  root  pieces 
sent  to  the  Arnold  Arboretum  originated — 
showed  three  enzymatic  profiles:  two  plants 
with  "A,"  two  plants  with  "C,"  and  two  plants 
with  "AC."  Further  analysis  of  stem  cambium 
of  Arnold  Arboretum  accession  AA  577-66  and 
root  cambium  of  both  AA  577-66  and  AA  771-68 
confirmed  the  "A"  enzyme  phenotype  for  both 
Arnold  Arboretum  trees.  It  seems  reasonable  to 
assume  that  the  root  pieces  of  NA  16548  sent  to 
the  Arnold  Arboretum  in  1966  were  taken  from 
tree  number  6,  at  the  end  of  the  National 
Arboretum's  nursery  row,  since  it  has  the  same 
enzyme  profile  ("A")  as  the  Arnold  Arboretum 


trees  and  would  have  been  the  easiest  tree  from 
which  to  collect  root  pieces.  Flowever,  tree 
number  6,  like  all  the  others,  produces  green 
immature  capsules. 

The  one  likely  explanation  for  the  rosy-red 
capsules  on  the  Arnold  Arboretum  trees  is  that 
a rare  somatic  mutation — a genetic  change,  in 
this  instance  affecting  capsule  color — occurred 
during  the  process  of  bud  initiation  on  the  root 
piece  that  developed  into  the  original  Arnold 
Arboretum  tree.  This  seems  quite  possible  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  shoot  meristems  produced 
by  roots  normally  have  a different  structure 
from  those  produced  by  stems  (Peterson,  1975). 

The  distinctive  coloration  of  the  Arnold 
Arboretum's  trees  is  the  attribute  on  which  we 
base  the  naming  of  this  genotype  as  a distinct 
cultivar.  The  name  'Rose  Lantern' — given 
because  the  papery  rosy-red  capsules  look  like 
miniature  fapanese  lanterns — has  been  submit- 
ted to  the  Brooklyn  Botanic  Garden,  which 
now  serves  as  the  International  Registration 
Authority  for  otherwise  unassigned  woody  gen- 
era, and  specimens  from  both  trees  have  been 
deposited  in  the  Arboretum's  Jamaica  Plain 


Size  and  Shape 

The  cultivar  'September'  is  not  a well-formed  or  robust  plant,  its  only  special  virtue  being  its  late 
flowering  period.  In  October  of  1994,  measurements  were  made  of  all  the  specimens  at  the 
National  Arboretum  that  had  been  derived  from  the  University  of  Indiana  original.  By  then,  the 
tree  labelled  'September',  received  in  1968  as  a propagated  plant  (NA  31 132),  was  26  years  old.  It 
measured  16.7  feet  in  height,  with  a crown  spread  of  approximately  20  feet,  and  its  trunk  was  7 
inches  in  diameter  at  one  foot  above  ground  level.  According  to  the  Royal  Horticultural  Society's 
color  chart,  its  immature  fruit  capsules  are  a yellow-green,  ranging  from  RHS  145-B  to  150-C.  At 
the  same  time,  the  six  trees  grown  from  seeds  of  the  original  Indiana  tree — received  at  the 
National  Arboretum  in  1960  (NA  16548) — ranged  in  height  from  34  to  39  feet,  with  trunk  diam- 
eters measuring  from  .5  to  14.6  inches.  Since  these  trees  are  growing  in  a short  nursery  row, 
crown  spread  was  difficult  to  measure,  but  the  trees  at  either  end  averaged  a 39-foot  spread.  The 
color  of  the  immature  capsules  was  similar  to  that  of  'September'. 

The  two  Arnold  Arboretum  trees,  now  christened  'Rose  Lantern',  are  also  of  rounded  habit. 
The  older  of  the  two  trees  (AA  577-66)  has  a single  trunk  with  a diameter  of  1 foot  7 inches  at 
one  foot  above  ground  level,  but  at  2 feet  6 inches  the  trunk  diverges  into  three  main  limbs.  Its 
crown  spread  measures  40  feet,  and  the  tree  is  34  feet  in  height  at  thirty  years  of  age.  The  younger 
tree  (AA  771-68)  is  28  feet  in  height  with  a crown  spread  of  35  feet.  It  has  three  trunks  growing 
from  the  base,  with  diameters  at  one  foot  above  ground  level  of  5.5,  10,  and  11  inches.  Both  of 
these  individuals,  like  Koelreuteria  paniculata  'September',  flower  at  the  end  of  August  and  into 
the  first  weeks  of  September,  but  their  immature  capsules  are  a decided  rosy-red  (RHS  180-A). 


Rose  Lantern  37 


herbarium.  On  a cautionary  note,  however,  it 
should  be  kept  in  mind  that  the  plant  we  are 
now  calling  'Rose  Lantern'  has  been  growing  on 
the  grounds  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum  under  the 
name  'September'  since  1969,  and  that  propaga- 
tion material  has  been  shared  with  growers 
under  that  name.  Depending  on  the  source  of 
propagation  material,  then,  some  of  the  plants 
being  sold  as  'September'  could,  in  fact,  be  the 
newly  named  cultivar  'Rose  Lantern'.  The 
pink  immature  fruit  capsules  would  be  the 
telltale  trait. 

The  next  question  that  arises  concerns  the  most 
efficient  and  effective  way  to  propagate  the  two 
Arnold  Arboretum  trees  to  ensure  that  their 
flowering  and  fruiting  attributes  are  maintained 
in  subsequent  progeny.  More  than  likely,  a high 
percentage  of  the  seedlings  arising  from  self- 
pollination  of  the  two  trees  would  produce  rosy- 
red  capsules.  We  can  assume  for  simplicity's 
sake  that  there  is  one  gene  (with  two  alleles)  for 
fruit  color.  Any  mutation  would  likely  occur  in 
only  one  allele,  and  even  though  that  mutation 
might  be  dominant — as  the  red  pigmentation 
appears  to  be — the  plant  would  be  heterozygous 
at  that  locus  (that  is,  with  both  the  dominant 
and  recessive  alleles  present).  Self-pollination 
would  then  result  in  a seedling  population  that 
is  25  percent  homozygous  red  (two  dominant 
alleles),  50  percent  heterozygous  red,  and  25  per- 
cent homozygous  green  (two  recessive  alleles). 
Seedling  populations  from  the  Arnold  Arbore- 
tum's trees  should  obviously  be  grown  to  sexual 
maturity  to  test  this  hypothesis.  Such  a trial 
would  also  provide  the  opportunity  for  further 
selection  of  outstanding  plants  from  within 
these  populations  and  their  naming  and  intro- 
duction into  the  horticultural  trade.  However, 
because  of  the  possibilities  outlined  above,  seed 
propagation  of  'Rose  Lantern'  would  not  neces- 
sarily guarantee  late-flowering  and  rosy-red 
fruited  trees. 

Ideally,  Koelreuteria  paniculata  'Rose  Lan- 
tern' would  be  vegetatively  propagated  by  root- 
ing stem  cuttings.  However,  this  has  proved  to 
be  a difficult  procedure,  typically  successful 


only  in  low  percentages.  To  date,  commercial 
production  of  the  cultivar  'September',  or  'Rose 
Lantern',  is  done  mainly  by  midsummer  bud- 
ding on  seedlings  of  K.  paniculata. 

Currently,  propagation  trials  of  Koelreuteria 
paniculata  'Rose  Lantern'  are  underway  at  the 
Arnold  Arboretum's  Dana  Greenhouses  using 
both  root  and  softwood  cuttings.  In  the  mean- 
time, budwood  and  scions  of  'Rose  Lantern'  are 
scheduled  for  distribution  to  commercial  nurs- 
erymen and  sister  institutions  via  "PIPD,"  the 
Arboretum's  Plant  Introduction,  Promotion, 
and  Distribution  Program  (Tripp,  1995).  We 
hope  that  this  late-flowering,  rosy-red  fruited 
variant  of  the  golden-rain  tree  will  gain  the 
popularity  in  the  horticultural  marketplace  we 
feel  it  deserves,  and  that  those  now  growing 
'Rose  Lantern'  under  the  misapprehension  that 
it  is  'September'  will  note  the  distinction 
between  the  two  late-flowering  cultivars. 

Literature  Cited 

McArdle,  A.  J.,  and  F.  S.  Santamour,  Jr.  1987.  Isozyme 
verification  of  fiybrids  in  Koelreuteria. 
HortScience  22:  649-650. 

McDaniel,  J.  C.,  and  S.  G.  March.  1967.  Koelreuteria 
paniculata  'September' — a new  cultivar. 
American  Horticultural  Magazine  46:  95,  96. 

Meyer,  F.  G.  1976.  A revision  of  the  genus  Koelreuteria 
(Sapindaceae).  Journal  of  the  Arnold  Arbo- 
retum 57:  129-166. 

Peterson,  R.  L.  1975.  The  initiation  and  development  of 
root  buds.  The  development  and  function  of 
roots.  Ed.  J.  G.  Torrey  and  D.  T.  Clarkson. 
London:  Academic  Press,  125-161. 

Royal  Horticultural  Society.  1966.  R.  H.  S.  Colour  Chart. 
London. 

Spongberg,  S.  A.  1978.  Korean  Adventure.  Arnoldia  38: 
132-152. 

Tripp,  K.  1995.  Arnold  Arboretum  introduces  new 
distribution  program.  American  Nurseryman 
182(12):  14. 


Frank  S.  Santamour,  Jr.,  is  Research  Geneticist  at  the 
U.S.  National  Arboretum;  Stephen  A.  Spongberg  is 
Horticultural  Taxonomist  at  the  Arnold  Arboretum. 


Dugout  Canoes,  Arrow  Poisons,  and  the  Cure  for 
Cancer:  Book  Review 

Todd  Forrest 


Ethnobotany:  Evolution  of  a Discipline.  Edited 
by  Richard  Evans  Schultes  St  Siri  von  Reis. 
Dioscorides  Press/Timber  Press,  1995.  Hard- 
cover, 414  pages,  $49.95 

Plants,  People,  and  Culture:  The  Science  of  Eth- 
nobotany. Michael  J.  Balick  St  Paul  Alan  Cox. 
Scientific  American  Press,  1996.  Hardcover,  228 
pages,  $32.95 

Since  I occasionally  give  tours  of  the  Arboretum 
to  friends  and  relatives  w^ho  are  not  entirely  con- 
vinced that  plants  are  either  interesting  or  rel- 
evant, I have  developed  a two-part  strategy  for 
persuading  them  of  the  joys  of  hotany.  The  first 
part  of  the  strategy  is  an  appeal  at  the  visceral 
level.  I have  my  guests  inhale  the  fragrance  of  a 
Magnolia  tripetala  flower,  lick  the  inner  bark  of 
a Betula  lenta,  sniff  a root  from  a Sassafras  albi- 
dum  sucker,  or  eat  the  fruits  from  Amelan- 
chier  laevis,  Actinidia  arguta,  or  Vaccinium 
corymbosum.  If  these  gastronomic  and  olfac- 
tory treats  fail  to  pique  their  interest,  I switch  to 
a topic  that  seems  to  hold  universal  appeal:  the 
human  uses,  both  traditional  and  modern,  of 
the  plants  we  grow.  This  part  of  the  strategy  is 
almost  always  successful — I've  had  visitors 
shrug  impatiently  at  a Cornus  florida  in  full 
bloom  only  to  light  up  with  intense  curiosity 
when  I explain  that  the  wood  of  this  species  was 
once  used  to  make  wheels  for  roller  skates  and 
shuttles  for  industrial  looms. 

The  anthropocentrism  that  guarantees  my 
suecess  on  Arboretum  tours  might  account  for 
the  recent  rise  in  the  mainstream  popularity  of 
ethnohotany,  a science  that  focuses  on  the  role 
of  plants  in  human  societies.  Ethnobotanists 
employ  the  observational  techniques  of  anthro- 
pology and  the  analytical  tools  of  botany  and 
chemistry  with  the  broad  aim  of  understanding 
both  the  people  and  plants  they  study.  $ince 


most  unknown  plants  and  little-studied  cul- 
tures are  found  in  the  nonindustrialized  regions 
of  the  world,  ethnobotany  often  entails  travel  to 
exotic  destinations  far  away  from  the  world's 
largest  cities,  creating  an  aura  of  adventurous 
romance  that  appeals  to  those  of  us  who  missed 
out  on  the  Age  of  Discovery.  This  romantic 
view  of  the  science  inspired  a movie  about  an 
ethnobotanist  working  in  the  field  [Medicine 
Man,  starring  8ean  Connery),  but  it  is  not  just 
desire  to  experience  the  exotic  or  nostalgia  for  a 
simpler  way  of  life  that  motivates  real  ethno- 
hotanists  in  their  work.  In  addition  to  expanding 
our  knowledge  of  people  and  plants,  the  infor- 
mation they  accumulate  might  eventually  pro- 
vide solutions  to  some  of  the  world's  most 
vexing  health  problems  and  aid  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  rapidly  disappearing  traditions. 

Plants,  People,  and  Culture:  The  Science 
of  Ethnobotany,  written  by  Michael  ].  Balick 
and  Paul  Alan  Cox,  and  Ethnobotany:  The 
Evolution  of  a Discipline,  edited  by  Richard 
Evans  5chultes  and  5iri  von  Reis,  discuss 
ethnobotany's  growth  and  change  from  the 
simple  cataloging  of  useful  plants  to  a complex, 
multidisciplinary  science.  In  their  well- 
illustrated  and  clearly  written  text,  Balick  and 
Cox  illuminate  a general  introduction  to  ethno- 
botany with  examples  of  their  own  fieldwork 
and  some  classic  stories  of  plant  research  and 
discovery.  5chultes  and  von  Reis  have  edited  a 
collection  of  somewhat  technical  essays  by 
leading  ethnobotanists  and  professionals  from 
the  many  fields  that  overlap  within  the  science, 
ranging  from  chemist  Albert  Hoffman  to  classi- 
cist Carl  Ruck.  On  their  own,  each  of  these 
books  presents  a different  image  of  ethno- 
botany; together  they  give  a thorough  and 
engaging  view  of  this  fascinating  and  continu- 
ally evolving  science. 


Book  Review  39 


As  a person  who  is  deeply  interested  in  plants 
but  often  impatient  with  stolid  academic  prose, 
I was  pleasantly  surprised  by  the  readability  of 
Plants,  People,  and  Culture.  Balick  and  Cox 
have  written  their  text  for  a broad  audience 
without  presupposing  much  knowledge  of 
either  botany  or  anthropology.  The  result  is  a 
lucid,  beautifully  illustrated  tour  of  historical 
and  current  ethnobotanical  research.  Instead  of 
simply  describing  the  science,  the  authors  let 
plants  and  people  tell  the  story.  Each  chapter 
focuses  on  a different  way  people  use  plants  (as 
medicines,  building  materials,  food,  spiritual 
aids)  and  gives  examples  of  these  uses  from  all 
over  the  world.  Balick  and  Cox  describe  the 
manufacture  of  arrow  poison,  the  use  of  plant- 
based  hallucinogens,  the  domestication  of  some 
of  our  most  important  food  crops,  the  construc- 
tion of  boats,  and  many  other  interesting  and 
unusual  uses  of  plants.  These  detailed  descrip- 
tions are  infused  with  the  authors'  obvious 
enthusiasm  for  their  field,  making  reading 
the  book  seem  like  participating  in  an  ethnobo- 
tanical expedition. 

While  Plants,  People,  and  Culture  is  informa- 
tive and  entertaining,  it  is  also  something  of  a 
polemic.  Balick  and  Cox  argue  that  the  issues 
ethnobotanists  tackle  are  relevant  to  all  of  us. 
Using  the  stories  of  the  discovery  of  reserpine, 
digitoxin,  quinine,  and  vinblastine — drugs 
developed  from  plants  using  clues  obtained 
from  ethnobotanical  research — they  show  that 
even  in  these  days  of  gene-splicing  and  chemical 
engineering,  plants  still  have  the  potential  to 
provide  us  with  new  cures.  The  authors  claim 
that  because  of  their  botanical  training,  their 
complete  immersion  in  the  cultures  they  study, 
and  their  respect  for  indigenous  peoples'  knowl- 
edge, ethnobotanists  are  singularly  qualified  to 
find  these  cures. 

But  if  ethnobotanists  are  going  to  find  "new" 
medicines,  foods,  or  building  materials,  they're 
going  to  have  to  do  it  quickly.  Balick  and  Cox 
point  out  that  many  of  the  cultures  described  in 
their  book  exist  in  places  where  the  environ- 
ment and  therefore  the  cultures  themselves  are 
endangered  by  development.  In  some  cases,  the 
threat  is  so  immediate  that  ethnobotanists  drop 
the  role  of  impartial  observer  and  act  to  preserve 
both  plants  and  traditional  knowledge.  Two 


examples  of  such  efforts  come  directly  from  the 
authors'  own  research.  Residents  of  the  Fijian 
island  of  Kabara  were  known  throughout  the 
Pacific  for  their  shipbuilding  skills,  but  as  Euro- 
pean colonists  brought  their  own  ships  and 
technology  to  the  island  these  skills  started  to 
vanish.  Ethnobotanists,  fearing  the  complete 
disappearance  of  this  knowledge,  commissioned 
one  of  the  last  skilled  boat  builders  among  the 
Kabara  islanders  to  build  a traditional  ship, 
employing  dozens  of  islanders  and  keeping 
the  ancient  industry  alive.  When  people  in 
Falealupo,  a village  on  Savaii  Island  in  Samoa, 
were  faced  with  selling  logging  rights  to  their 
forest  to  pay  for  a new  school,  Paul  Cox  and 
some  colleagues,  recognizing  the  cultural  and 
biological  importance  of  the  forest,  raised 
money  to  help  pay  for  the  school,  saving  the 
land  from  development.  The  book  ends  with  the 
caveat  that  in  order  to  achieve  their  goals,  eth- 
nobotanists must  respect  and  work  closely  with 
the  people  they  study. 

If  Plants,  People,  and  Culture  is  an  engaging 
overview  of  ethnobotany,  then  Ethnobotany: 
The  Evolution  of  a Discipline  is  an  in-depth 
analysis  of  its  raisons  d'etre.  More  academic 
than  entertaining,  Ethnobotany  is  divided  into 
sections,  each  of  which  includes  essays  concern- 
ing different  aspects  of  ethnobotany  written  by 
a variety  of  social  and  natural  scientists.  There 
are  sections  on  such  diverse  topics  as  the  history 
of  ethnobotany,  the  relevance  of  ethnobotany  to 
anthropology,  the  contributions  ethnobotany 
has  made  to  medicine  and  agriculture,  and  the 
role  of  ethnobotany  in  conservation.  Since  the 
book  is  a collaborative  effort,  each  essay  is  writ- 
ten in  a different  style,  from  Janis  Alcorn's 
pedantic  analysis  of  the  philosophy  of  ethno- 
botany to  Edward  Anderson's  lively  discussion 
of  the  role  of  the  liberal  arts  in  the  field.  As  a 
result,  Ethnobotany  is  an  informative,  if  some- 
what arrhythmic,  read. 

It  wasn't  until  1895  that  the  term  ethno- 
botany was  coined  by  University  of  Pennsylva- 
nia botanist  John  Harshberger,  but  the  true 
beginnings  of  the  science  extend  much  further 
into  the  past.  According  to  E.  Wade  Davis,  in  its 
early  days  ethnobotany  was  indistinguishable 
from  general  botany,  involving  no  more  than  the 
description  and  classification  of  useful  plants. 


40  Ainoldia  1 996  Summer 


Herbals  such  as  De  Materia  Medica  by 
Dioscorides,  the  Codex  Badianus  of  the  Aztecs, 
or  the  Chinese  herbal  Sheng  Nong  Ben  Cao 
Chien  can  be  viewed  as  ethnobotanical  texts 
because  they  are  compilations  of  traditional 
knowledge  of  plant  uses.  As  Europeans  started 
exploring  Asia,  Africa,  and  the  Americas,  ethno- 
botany  became  a means  of  identifying  new  com- 
modities for  import  into  the  West.  The  spread 
of  corn,  tomatoes,  tobacco,  peppers,  and  other 
important  plant  products  was  a direct  result  of 
this  early  version  of  the  science.  Although  they 
are  still  concerned  with  discovering  new  and 
useful  plants,  contemporary  ethnobotanists 
interpret  their  observations  of  plant  use  from  a 
broader  perspective  that  involves  not  only  sys- 
tematic botany  but  linguistics,  anthropology, 
and  chemistry  as  well.  Weston  La  Barre,  for 
example,  argues  that  ethnobotanical  data  have 
given  anthropologists  insight  into  the  way  cul- 
tures obtain  and  structure  their  knowledge  of 
the  surrounding  world.  Ethnobotany  is  no 
longer  simply  the  description  of  useful  plants  or 
a means  of  exploiting  of  the  world's  resources:  it 
has  become  a tool  for  general  cultural  interpre- 
tation with  the  goal  of  recording  disappearing 
ways  of  life. 

Articles  by  Mark  Plotkin,  Ghillean  Prance, 
and  C.  Earle  Smith  discuss  how  ethnobotanists 
can  aid  conservation  efforts  by  creating  lists  of 
species  to  target  for  protection.  Due  to  the  over- 
whelming diversity  of  flowering  plants,  the 
hope  of  protecting  all  plant  species  from  extinc- 
tion is  probably  unrealistic.  Ethnobotanists  can 
help  narrow  the  field  by  determining  which 
wild  species  have  the  most  cultural  importance 
in  areas  threatened  by  development.  Some  of 
these  plants  are  generally  unknown  in  the  West, 
others  are  wild  populations  of  important  food 
crops  such  as  sweet  potato,  corn,  and  rice  that 
may  represent  new  sources  of  genes  for  disease 
and  pest  resistance.  And,  just  as  Balick  and  Cox 
argue  in  their  book,  it  is  clear  that  in  preserving 
useful  plants  we  aid  in  the  preservation  of  the 
cultures  that  depend  on  them. 

Ethnobotany  is  not  written  primarily. for  the 
layperson  with  a passing  interest  in  the  field, 
though  many  of  the  essays  would  be  of  interest 


to  the  general  reader.  I particularly  enjoyed  the 
sections  titled  "Historical  Ethnobotany"  and 
"Ethnobotany  and  Geography,"  but  in  many 
cases  the  book  gave  me  the  sense  of  listening  to 
a panel  of  experts  called  in  to  defend  the  legiti- 
macy of  ethnobotany  against  skeptical  "hard" 
scientists.  Part  of  this  effort  involves  coming  up 
with  an  unambiguous  definition  of  the  science 
(and  dispelling  the  notion  that  ethnobotany  is 
simply  a newer  form  of  romantic  exploration), 
but  because  of  the  complexity  of  the  issues  eth- 
nobotanists address,  this  task  is  more  difficult 
than  it  might  seem.  Most  of  the  definitions 
given  are  some  variation  of  "the  description  of 
the  various  methods  by  which  local  peoples  uti- 
lize plants"'  or  "the  study  of  plants  in  relation 
to  people."^  In  spite  of  this  somewhat  defensive 
tone,  the  essays  in  Ethnobotany  taken  together 
paint  a comprehensive  picture  of  both  the  long 
history  and  broad  scope  of  field. 

As  the  ethnobotanists  in  both  of  these  books 
tell  us  about  plant  use  in  indigenous  cultures, 
they  also  remind  us  of  the  debt  our  society  owes 
to  the  observational  and  experimental  skills  of 
these  cultures.  Imagine  our  society  without  qui- 
nine, morphine,  rubber,  corn,  or  chocolate — all 
in  use  long  before  they  were  "discovered"  by 
Europeans.  Knowledge  of  the  origins  of  these 
essential  plant  products  should  convince  the 
reader  of  the  importance  of  continuing  ethnobo- 
tanical research.  Plants,  People,  and  Culture 
and  Ethnobotany  explain  the  methodology  of 
and  ideas  behind  this  research  and  should  appeal 
to  anybody  with  an  interest  in  plants  or  anthro- 
pology, or  even  in  the  history  of  science. 

Endnotes 

' J.  O.  Kokwaro,  "Ethnobotany  in  Africa,"  Ethno- 
botany: The  Evolution  of  a Discipline,  1995,  page 
216. 

^ C.  B.  Heiser,  "The  Ethnobotany  of  Domesticated 
Plants,"  Ethnobotany:  The  Evolution  of  a Discipline, 
1995,  page  200. 


Todd  Forrest,  former  plant  recorder  at  the  Arnold 
Arboretum,  is  a student  at  the  Yale  Graduate  School 
of  Forestry. 


gray  herbarium 


Li  .S. 

JAN  0 3 1997 


amoldia 


Volume  56  Number  3 1996 

Amoldia  (ISBN  004-2633;  USPS  866-100)  is 
published  quarterly  by  the  Arnold  Arboretum  of 
Harvard  University.  Second-class  postage  paid  at 
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Phyllis  Andersen 
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Copyright  © 1996.  The  President  and  Fellows  of 
Harvard  College 


Page 

2 Bulldozers  and  Bacteria:  The  Ecology 
of  Sweet  Fern 
Peter  Del  Tredici 

12  A Park  and  Garden  in  Vermont:  Olmsted 
and  the  Webbs  at  Shelburne  Farms 
Alan  Emmet 

21  Itea  'Beppu':  The  Return  of  the  Native 
Peter  M.  Mazzeo  and  Donald  H.  Voss 

26  Lives  of  New  England  Gardens: 

Book  Review 
Phyllis  Andersen 

Front  cover:  After  the  flood,  October  1996. 
Photograph  by  Peter  Del  Tredici. 

Inside  front  cover:  The  centerpiece  of  the 
Arhoretum's  new  exhibit  is  a striking  8-by- 10-foot 
scale  model  of  the  landscape  that  replicates  more 
than  4,000  trees  in  40-to-l  scale.  Photograph  by 
Jim  Harrison. 

Inside  back  cover:  Observatory  and  swing  on  the 
grounds  of  J.  S.  Potter,  Arlington,  Massachusetts, 
1866.  From  Alan  Emmet's  So  Fine  a Prospect: 
Historic  New  England  Gardens.  Courtesy  of  the 
Boston  Athenaeum. 

Back  cover:  The  five-millionth  specimen  of 
the  Harvard  University  Herbaria.  Photograph  hy 
David  Boufford. 


2 Arnoldia  1 996  Fall 


(>  I . 


Bulldozers  and  Bacteria:  The  Ecology  of  Sweet  Fern 


Peter  Del  Tredici 


Comptonia  peregrina,  a common  roadside  plant  in  eastern  North  America, 
provides  a case  study  both  of  how  nature  copes  with  disturbance  to  the  land 
and  of  just  how  convoluted  the  study  of  this  process  can  be. 


Sweet  fern,  Comptonia  peregrina,  is  a shrubby 
member  of  the  Myricaceae,  or  bayberry  family. 
Its  common  name  is  derived  from  the  pleasing 
fragrance  that  its  tiny,  resin-filled,  glandular 
hairs  give  off  when  crushed  or  rubbed,  and  from 
its  coarsely  lobed,  somewhat  fern-like  leaves. 
Comptonia,  a distinctly  unprepossessing  plant, 
has  a natural  range  that  covers  a large  portion  of 
eastern  North  America.  Forming  a rough  tri- 
angle, the  eastern  flank  of  this  range  extends 
from  Prince  Edward  Island  and  Nova  Scotia 
south  into  the  mountains  of  north  Georgia;  the 
western  edge  reaches  from  the  southern  Appala- 
chians north  through  Tennessee  and  Minnesota 
all  the  way  to  central  Manitoba,-  and  the  north- 
ern edge  runs  from  the  Canadian  plains  through 
central  Ontario  and  Quebec  to  the  Atlantic 
(Elias  1971).  Sweet  fern  typically  grows  to  three 
or  four  feet  in  height  and,  over  time,  forms 
extensive  colonies — up  to  twenty  feet  across — 
from  suckers  produced  by  its  roots. 

As  to  habitat,  sweet  fern  shows  a strong  pref- 
erence for  dry,  sandy  soils  with  full  exposure  to 
the  sun.  These  sites,  which  include  dry,  piney 
woods,  exposed  mountain  slopes,  abandoned 
pastures,  pine  barrens,  highway  bankings,  gravel 
pits,  weathered  mine  tailings,  and  cut-over 
forested  land,  have  typically  experienced  some 
form  of  disturbance  in  either  the  recent  or  dis- 
tant past  (Schramm  1966;  Schwintzer  1989). 

Two  attributes  equip  Comptonia  for  the 
pioneering  role  of  a colonizer  of  disturbed 


soils.  The  first  is  its  use  of  nitrogen  gas  from 
the  atmosphere  to  produce  nitrates — a feat  it 
accomplishes  by  forming  root  nodules  in  symbi- 
otic association  with  nitrogen-fixing  bacteria. 
The  second  is  an  ability  to  propagate  itself  veg- 
etatively  by  means  of  long,  thick  roots  that  run 
an  inch  or  so  beneath  the  soil  surface.  These 
shallow  roots  form  numerous  buds  in  the  fall 
that  grow  into  shoots  the  following  spring. 
Under  the  right  conditions,  Comptonia  behaves 
as  a shrubby  groundcover,  spreading  over  large 
areas  by  means  of  these  root  suckers. 

Historical  Considerations 

Sweet  fern's  distinctive  form  and  pungent  odor 
made  a strong  impression  on  the  early  European 
settlers  of  North  America.  Nowhere  is  this 
more  apparent  than  in  a passage  from  a book 
written  in  1654  by  one  Edward  fohnson.  Won- 
derworking Providence  of  Sion’s  Saviour  in 
New  England.  Johnson  was  presenting  a second- 
hand account  of  the  arduous  journey  made  in 
1636  by  the  first  English  settlers  of  Concord, 
Massachusetts,  led  by  Captain  Simon  Willard. 
Starting  from  Boston,  they  traveled  by  boat  as 
far  as  Watertown  and  then  made  their  way  over- 
land, more  or  less  following  the  meandering 
Charles  River.  Johnson  describes  (and  undoubt- 
edly embellishes)  a scene  in  which  the  wearied 
pilgrims  confront  "a  scorching  plaine,  yet  not  so 
plaine,  but  that  the  ragged  bushes  scratch  their 
legs  fouly,  even  to  wearing  their  stockings  to 


The  characteristics  that  inspired  the  common  name  sweet  fern — tiny,  resin-filled  hairs  and  fern-like  leaves — 
can  be  seen  in  this  plate  from  Franz  Schmidt’s  Osterreichs  Allgemeine  Baumzucht  (Vienna,  1792).  The  plant 
we  know  as  Comptonia  peregrina  is  labelled  under  a hybrid  of  the  two  names  given  it  by  Carolus  Linnaeus  in 
his  Species  Plantarum.  It  was  Charles  L’Heritier  who  demonstrated  that  the  plant  did  not  belong  in  either  of 
the  genera  suggested  by  Linnaeus. 


4 Ainoldia  1 996  Fall 


their  bare  skin  in  two  or  three  hours."  Those 
without  "bootes  or  bushings  . . . have  had  the 
bloud  trickle  downe  at  every  step."  And  injury 
was  compounded  when  "the  sun  casts  such  a 
reflecting  heate  from  the  sweet  feme,  whose 
scent  is  very  strong,  that  some  herewith  have 
beene  very  nere  fainting,  although  very  able 
bodies  to  undergoe  much  travel." 

John  Josselyn's  reference  to  sweet  fern  in  his 
classic  work  New-Englands  Rarities  Discov- 
ered, written  in  1672,  is  considerably  more 
benign:  "Sweet  Fern,  the  Roots  run  one  within 
another  like  a Net,  being  very  long  and  spread- 
ing abroad  under  the  upper  crust  of  the  Earth, 
sweet  in  taste,  but  withal  astringent,  much 
hunted  after  by  our  Swine:  The  Scotch-men  that 
are  in  New-England  have  told  me  that  it  grows 
in  Scotland."  fosselyn  was  an  astute  observer,  as 
his  description  of  the  spreading  roots  of  the 
plant  clearly  indicates.  His  Scottish  informants, 
however,  were  dead  wrong;  sweet  fern  is  native 
only  to  eastern  North  America. 

It  was  Carolus  Linnaeus  who  assigned  the 
first  modern  scientific  name  to  sweet  fern, 
which  he  did  in  Species  Plantarum,  published  in 
1753.  Unfortunately,  he  confused  the  situation 
by  accidentally  giving  the  plant  two  names,  Liq- 
uidambar  peregrina  on  page  999  and  Myrica 
asplenifolia  on  page  1024.  Subsequent  authors 
were  left  to  choose  which  name  to  use.  The 
currently  accepted  name  of  sweet  fern's 
genus,  Comptonia,  was  established  in  1789  by 
the  French  botanist  Charles  L'Heritier,  who 
demonstrated  that  the  plant  did  not  belong  in 
either  of  the  genera  suggested  by  Linnaeus. 
L'Heritier's  name  commemorates  Henry 
Compton  (1632-1713),  Bishop  of  London,  a 
lover  of  trees  and  an  early  supporter  of  botanical 
research  and  exploration. 

Linnaeus'  student  Peter  Kalm,  who  may 
well  have  collected  the  specimens  on  which 
Linnaeus'  original  description  was  based,  pro- 
vided a particularly  interesting  reference  to 
sweet  fern  in  his  book.  Travels  into  North 
America,  written  in  1770.  In  this  work,  a report 
of  his  travels  between  1747  and  1750,  Kalm 
noted  the  medicinal  use  of  sweet  fern  by  indig- 
enous people:  "Among  the  Iroquois,  or  Five 
Nations,  on  the  Mohawk  River,  I saw  a young 
Indian  woman,  who  by  frequent  drinking  of  tea 


had  gotten  a violent  toothache.  To  cure  it  she 
boiled  the  Myrica  aspleniifolia,  and  tied  it,  as 
hot  as  she  could  bear  it,  on  the  whole  cheek. 
She  said  that  remedy  had  often  cured  the  tooth- 
ache before."  The  medicinal  use  of  sweet  fern 
must  have  been  widespread,  given  that  later 
authors  and  travelers  make  frequent  reference 
to  its  use  not  only  by  various  tribes  of  Native 
Americans,  but  also  by  European  settlers 
(Erichsen-Brown  1979). 

William  Bartram  mentions  sweet  fern  only 
once  in  his  Travels,  but  more  significantly,  he 
offered  it  for  sale  in  his  famous  Catalogue  of 
American  Trees,  Shrubs,  and  Herbaceous 
Plants,  published  in  1783  (Fry  1996).  In  this 
broadside,  Bartram  listed  sweet  fern  under  a 
hybrid  of  the  two  Linnaean  names,  Liquidam- 
bar  Aspleni  Folia,  noting  that  it  grew  on  "Light 
dry  sandy  Ridges."  Two  years  later,  Humphrey 
Marshall  produced  the  first  detailed  description 
of  the  sweet  fern  in  his  book,  Arbustrum 
Americanum,  also  using  Bartram's  hybrid 
name,  Liquidambar  asplenifolia.  Marshall's 
publication,  which  is  considered  the  first  book 
by  an  American  about  American  trees  and 
shrubs,  brings  to  a close  the  early  history  of 
Comptonia.  Later  botanical  authors  continued 
tinkering  with  the  name,  but  added  little  origi- 
nal information  to  the  basic  understanding  of 
the  plant  itself. 

Desperately  Seeking  Sweet  Fern 

My  own  involvement  with  sweet  fern  began  in 
1971  when  I started  working  for  the  late  Dr. 
lohn  Torrey  at  the  Harvard  Forest  in  Petersham, 
Massachusetts,  just  after  he  had  shifted  the 
focus  of  his  research  from  root  physiology  to 
nitrogen  fixation.  He  selected  Comptonia  as  his 
experimental  subject  and  hired  me  to  grow  it  in 
the  laboratory.  At  that  time,  the  symbiosis  of 
legumes  with  the  nitrogen-fixing  Rhizobium 
bacteria  was  well  understood,  but  almost  noth- 
ing was  known  about  nitrogen  fixation  by  the 
so-called  nonlegumes  that  form  a symbiotic 
association  with  a totally  different  type  of  bac- 
terium in  the  genus  Frankia.  When  Dr.  Torrey's 
project  started,  no  one,  despite  seventy  years  of 
trying,  had  succeeded  in  isolating  the  causative 
bacterium  from  a nonleguminous  root  nodule 
or  in  culturing  it  independent  of  its  host.  This 


Sweet  Fern  5 


'J 

5 

on 

(- 


Sweet  fern  is  seen  with  quaking  aspen  growing  along  Route  2 in  Concord,  Massachusetts. 


failure  was  the  block  that  held  up  progress  in 
researching  the  subject. 

With  an  overabundance  of  enthusiasm  and  a 
dearth  of  experience,  I was  hired  to  bring  sweet 
fern  into  the  greenhouse — domesticate  it,  if 
you  will — so  that  we  could  study  the  nitrogen- 
fixation  process  in  a controlled  environment.  To 
cultivate  Comptonia  under  laboratory  condi- 
tions, we  couldn't  just  dig  up  plants  from  the 
field  because  the  roots  were  always  contami- 
nated with  fungi  and  bacteria  other  than  the  one 
we  wanted  to  study.  No,  Dr.  Torrey  insisted,  we 
had  to  grow  the  plant  from  seed  in  sterile  sand. 
In  central  Massachusetts,  sweet  fern's  seeds, 
technically  considered  to  be  fruits,  ripen  around 
the  fourth  of  July.  They  are  light  brown  in  color, 
four-to-five  millimeters  long,  and,  as  they 
mature,  they  become  enveloped  in  a burrlike 
structure  that  is  covered  with  long,  green  bracts. 
The  burrs  are  soft  to  the  touch  and  give  off  a 
delicious,  almost  spicy  scent  when  one  rubs 


them  between  the  thumb  and  the  forefinger  to 
extract  the  seeds. 

Once  we  had  managed  to  collect  enough  seeds 
to  work  with,  the  next  hurdle  was  to  get  them 
to  germinate.  We  tried  all  the  standard  tech- 
niques for  stimulating  seed  germination  in 
woody  plants  and  all  of  them  failed.  Subsequent 
research  with  excised  embryos  grown  in  a 
sterile  culture  demonstrated  that  the  failure 
resulted  from  the  presence  of  chemical  inhibi- 
tors located  in  the  innermost  seed  coat.  These 
inhibitors  are  not  unique  to  Comptonia.  In  most 
temperate  plants,  however,  chilling  effectively 
counteracts  the  inhibitors — not  the  case  with 
sweet  fern  seeds.  It  was  only  when  Dr.  Torrey 
suggested  treating  the  seeds  with  gibberellic 
acid,  a naturally  occurring  plant  growth  regula- 
tor, that  we  were  able  to  get  any  of  them  to 
sprout.  Eventually  we  learned  that  soaking 
scarified  seeds  in  a dilute  solution  of  gibberellic 
acid  for  twenty-four  hours  would  produce  up  to 


6 Ainoldia  1 996  Fall 


80  percent  germination  (Del  Tredici  and  Torrey 
1976).  While  these  results  were  satisfying  in 
that  they  allowed  the  research  program  to  move 
forward,  they  were  also  frustrating  because  we 
could  not  relate  the  gibberellic  acid  treatment  to 
the  way  the  seeds  behaved  in  nature. 

The  problem  stumped  me  for  some  time.  In 
four  years  of  studying  Comptonia  I had  exam- 
ined thousands  of  plants  all  across  New  England 
but  had  never  found  a wild  seedling.  Invariably, 
every  small  plant  I found  was  attached  to  a root 
that  emanated  from  an  established  plant.  For 
whatever  reason,  I never  found  Comptonia  seed- 
lings under  an  existing  clump  of  sweet  fern.  In 
frustration,  I stopped  thinking  about  the  prob- 
lem of  seed  germination  in  nature  until  one  day 
in  the  spring  of  1976,  on  a walk  in  the  woods  in 
northwest  Connecticut,  I came  upon  a site 
where  hundred-year-old  white  pines  (Finns 
strobus)  had  been  clearcut  and  then  bulldozed 
the  autumn  before.  Among  all  the  weeds  and 
whatnot  that  were  emerging,  I was  amazed  to 
see  seedlings  of  sweet  fern  growing,  their  coty- 
ledons still  attached.  There  were  no  adult  plants 
to  be  found,  just  seedlings.  In  all,  I counted 
194  of  them  in  an  area  of  less  than  an  acre  (Del 
Tredici  1977). 

According  to  my  reasoning,  these  seedlings 
must  have  arisen  either  from  dormant  seeds 
buried  in  the  soil  (the  so-called  seedbank)  or 
from  seeds  brought  in  by  some  dispersal  agent. 
Given  the  relatively  large  size  of  the  sweet  fern 
seed  and  its  lack  of  any  specialized  dispersal 
structures,  transport  by  rain  or  wind  could  be 
ruled  out;  and  its  inconspicuous  appearance  and 
lack  of  fleshy  coverings  make  dispersal  by  ani- 
mals extremely  limited.  Indeed,  the  only  animal 
ever  reported  to  eat  the  sweet  fern  seeds  is  the 
yellow-shafted  flicker  (Colaptes  amatus),  a 
ground-feeding  member  of  the  woodpecker  fam- 
ily. One  F.  E.  Beal  examined  684  flicker  stom- 
achs in  1911  and  found  an  undisclosed  number 
of  Comptonia  seeds  in  one  of  them.  FFowever,  in 
order  to  explain  by  animal  dispersal  the  194 
seedlings  that  appeared  just  one  year  after 
clearcutting,  one  would  need  to  postulate  a size- 
able flock  of  flickers  roaming  the  countryside, 
eating  sweet  fern  and  defecating  exclusively  on 
this  one  acre  in  the  woods. 


The  lack  of  any  obvious  dispersal  mechanism 
left  buried  seeds  as  the  only  likely  explanation 
for  the  seedlings  in  the  Connecticut  clearcut. 

The  question  was,  how  did  they  get  there?  In 
nature,  most  Comptonia  seeds  come  to  rest 
within  a half  meter  of  the  parent  that  produced 
them  and  are  soon  buried  in  the  leaf  litter  that 
collects  beneath  the  plant.  As  I see  it,  deep 
chemical  inhibition  prevents  germination  for 
several  years,  by  which  time  the  seeds  are  well 
covered.  The  litter  contributes  to  delayed  germi- 
nation either  indirectly,  by  excluding  light,  or 
directly,  by  giving  off  specific  chemicals  that 
suppress  germination.  In  either  case,  a buried 
seed  will  not  sprout  unless  brought  to  the  sur- 
face after  its  own  internal  dormant  state  has 
been  neutralized.  In  the  Connecticut  woods 
where  I found  my  sweet  fern  seedlings,  this  res- 
urrection was  facilitated,  albeit  inadvertently, 
by  the  state  forester  who  upon  completion  of 
the  logging  operation  had  the  whole  area  bull- 
dozed to  encourage  the  "natural"  regeneration 
of  white  pine  seedlings. 

Clearly  bulldozing  was  just  what  the  sweet 
fern  seeds  needed.  They  had  been  deposited  in 
the  soil  before  the  pines  grew  up,  while  the  land 
was  in  pasture,  and  then  germinated  after  the 
logging  operation  brought  them  to  the  surface. 

On  the  basis  of  ring  counts  of  the  cut  pine  trees, 

I estimated  that  the  canopy  of  pines  had  closed 
about  seventy  years  before  I came  on  the  scene, 
the  point  when  sweet  fern  would  have  disap- 
peared from  the  site  because  of  insufficient 
sunlight.  Seventy  years,  then,  is  a minimum 
estimate  of  the  time  the  seeds  could  survive  in 
the  soil.  I have  no  idea  what  the  maximum  is. 

It  is  clear,  however,  that  soil  disturbance  is  an 
absolute  requirement  for  the  germination  of 
Comptonia  seeds.  Henry  David  Thoreau  made 
essentially  the  same  observation  in  his  journal 
on  October  22,  1860;  "I  notice  that  the  first 
shrubs  and  trees  to  spring  up  in  the  sand  on  rail- 
road cuts  in  the  woods  are  sweet-fern,  birches, 
willows,  and  aspens,  and  pines,  white  and  pitch;  ^ 
but  all  but  the  last  two  chiefly  disappear  in  the 
thick  wood  that  follows."  All  of  the  above 
species,  save  Comptonia,  have  wind-dispersed 
seeds  that  exhibit  no  capacity  for  long-term  sur- 
vival in  the  soil.  Clearly  sweet  fern's  buried  seed 


PETER  DEL  TREDICI 


Sweet  Fern  7 


Sweet  fern  in  fruit  at  the  height  of  summer. 

strategy,  which  evolved  in  response  to  natural 
disturbance  such  as  fire  and  erosion,  had 
adapted  well  to  the  human-induced  changes  of 
the  twentieth  century.  Sweet  fern,  as  a pioneer 
species,  can  play  an  important  role  in  revitaliz- 
ing land  that  has  been  traumatically  stripped  of 
its  plant  cover. 

Nitrogen  Fixation 

Eventually,  after  seven  years  of  work.  Dr. 
Torrey's  research  team  succeeded  in  isolating 
the  bacterium  that  is  responsible  for  nitrogen 


fixation  in  Comptonia.  Using 
gibberellic  acid  to  stimulate 
germination,  we  were  able 
to  produce  abundant  nodule 
growth  on  vigorous  seedlings 
that  were  grown  with  their 
roots  dangling  in  a nutrient 
mist  (aeroponics).  This  system, 
unlike  water  culture  (hydro- 
ponics), allowed  the  plant  roots 
to  develop  the  hairs  through 
which  the  bacteria  penetrated 
the  root  itself  (Zobel  et  al. 
1974).  By  repeatedly  subcultur- 
ing the  nodules  from  one  mist 
box  to  the  next,  we  eventually 
were  able  to  produce  "clean" 
nodules  that  were  relatively 
free  of  other  microbial  con- 
taminants (Callaham  and 
Torrey  1977;  Bowes  et  al.  1977). 
These  nodules  were  then 
surface-sterilized,  macerated 
together  with  special  digestive 
enzymes,  and  incubated  on  an 
elaborately  formulated  nutri- 
ent agar.  After  three  weeks 
of  culture.  Dale  Callaham, 
who  did  the  isolation  work, 
observed  several  small  colonies 
of  bacteria  with  filamentous 
growth.  While  the  unusual 
morphology  of  this  organism 
clearly  resembled  that  of  an 
actinobacterium,  it  was  unlike 
any  that  had  been  previously 
described.  It  was  not  until  we 
had  obtained  a second  generation  of  functional 
nodules  by  re-innoculating  fresh  Comptonia 
seedlings  with  a culture  of  the  isolated  bacte- 
rium that  we  knew  we  had  the  real  thing. 

This  conclusion  was  corroborated  when  we 
isolated  the  filamentous  bacteria  from  the  sec- 
ond-generation nodules  and  found  them  to  be 
identical  to  those  of  the  first  generation.  It  was 
only  by  following  this  elaborate  procedure — 
referred  to  as  fulfilling  Koch's  postulates — that 
we  could  prove  that  we  had  the  causative  organ- 
ism in  hand.  These  successful  results,  published 


8 Arnoldia  1 996  Fall 


A miciogiaph  of  the  Frankia  bacteria  showing  its  long,  branching  filaments 
under  Nomarski  phase  interference  optics  at  a magnification  of  ISOOx. 


in  1978,  marked  the  conclusion 
of  nearly  seventy  years  of  frus- 
trated attempts  to  isolate  a 
Frankia  bacterium  from  its 
host  plant. 

This  breakthrough  opened 
wide  the  floodgates  of  research 
on  actinorhizal  plants,  whose 
important  role  in  colonizing 
bare,  nutrient-poor  ground  was 
just  starting  to  be  appreciated. 

Most  of  the  nitrogen  fixed  by 
these  plants  enters  the  nutrient 
cycle  slowly  through  the  de- 
composition of  fallen  leaves, 
twigs,  branches,  and  fine  roots, 
but  over  time  the  contribution 
of  actinorhizal  plants  to  the 
total  ecosystem  nitrogen  bud- 
get can  be  substantial.  Research 
on  red  alder  (Alnus  rubra)  in 
the  Pacific  Northwest,  for 
example,  has  shown  that  pure 
stands  of  the  tree  can  add  up  to  280  pounds  of 
nitrogen  per  acre  per  year  to  the  forest 
(Schwintzer  and  Tjepkema  1990).  It  is  important 
to  keep  in  mind,  however,  that  nitrogen-fixing 
plants  can  typically  hold  their  own  against  com- 
petition only  when  soil  conditions  are  poor.  On 
fertile  ground  they  seem  to  lose  some  of  their 
competitive  advantage  to  other  trees  and 
shrubs.  In  a very  real  sense,  nitrogen-fixing 
plants  sow  the  seeds  of  their  own  replacement 
by  elevating  the  nitrogen  content  of  the  soil. 

Propagation  and  Cultivation 

Sweet  fern's  ability  to  propagate  itself  from  root 
suckers  is  another  important  component  of  its 
colonization  strategy.  Once  the  plant  gets  a foot- 
hold in  a location  to  its  liking,  it  comes  to  domi- 
nate the  area  by  sending  up  numerous  root 
suckers.  The  ever-observant  Henry  Thoreau 
made  note  of  this  on  March  18,  1860;  "The 
sweet  fern  grows  in  large,  dense,  more  or  less 
rounded  or  oval  patches  in  dry  land.  You  will  see 
three  or  four  such  patches  in  a single  old  field.  It 
is  now  quite  perfect  in  my  old  bean-field." 

William  Bartram's  1783  offering  of  sweet  fern 
notwithstanding,  the  plant  has  never  made 
much  of  an  impression  in  the  nursery  industry. 


There  are  several  reasons  for  this,  not  least  the 
plant's  reputation  for  being  difficult  to  propa- 
gate. Germination  from  seed,  as  shown  above,  is 
virtually  impossible,  and  digging  the  plant  up 
from  the  wild  is  seldom  successful,  given  the 
ropy  nature  of  its  root  system.  It  wasn't  until  the 
early  1970s  that  a research  team  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Massachusetts,  Amherst,  developed  tech- 
niques that  allowed  for  the  plant's  commercial 
production  (Hyde  et  al.  1972). 

The  authors  of  that  study  were  seeking  to 
identify  plants  that  would  rapidly  cover  high- 
way bankings,  and  sweet  fern  was  one  of  the 
plants  that  interested  them.  They  designed  an 
experiment  to  determine  both  the  best  time  of 
year  to  take  root  cuttings  as  well  as  their  opti- 
mal size.  Two  different-sized  cuttings  were  col- 
lected twice  a month  for  a period  of  one  year: 
three  inches  long  by  one-quarter-inch  diameter 
and  three  inches  long  by  one-eighth-inch  diam- 
eter. Forty-five  days  after  the  cuttings  had  been 
stuck  in  individual  pots,  they  were  checked  to 
see  whether  they  had  produced  leafy  shoots. 

No  significant  difference  was  found  in  the 
number  of  shoots  produced  by  the  two  different 
cutting  sizes  over  the  course  of  the  year,  but  the 
time  of  cutting  was  highly  influential.  At  least 


^1 


Sweet  Fern  9 


80  percent  of  the  root  cuttings  taken  between 
February  24  and  May  1 produced  shoots,  while 
those  taken  between  May  15  and  August  1 pro- 
duced few  or  no  shoots.  Cuttings  taken  between 
August  15  and  December  10  produced  good-to- 
poor  percentages  of  shoots,  depending  on  the 
date  the  cuttings  were  made.  (No  cuttings  were 
taken  between  December  10  and  February  24 
because  the  ground  was  frozen.)  Based  on  these 
results,  the  authors  recommended  that  root  cut- 
tings be  taken  before  the  parent  plant  started  to 
leaf  out,  around  May  in  the  Boston  area.  Root 
cuttings  made  after  the  stock  plant's  leaves 
emerged  produced  shoots  in  very  low  percent- 
ages. Their  observations  clearly  suggest  the 
existence  of  an  inhibitory  hormone  produced  by 
the  leaves  that  suppressed  the  development  of 
the  root  buds  into  shoots. 

Landscape  Uses:  A Community  Approach 

Frank  Egler,  working  with  researchers  at  the 
Connecticut  College  Arboretum  in  New  Lon- 
don, was  among  the  first  to  recognize  the  poten- 
tial role  that  sweet  fern,  as  well  as  other 
suckering  shrubs,  could  play  in  the  formation  of 
low-maintenance,  naturalistic  plantings  along 
highway  bankings  and  power  company  rights- 
of-way  (Kenfield  1966;  Niering  and  Goodwin 
1974).  In  the  course  of  their  studies  of  old-field 
succession  in  the  Northeast,  the  authors  devel- 
oped techniques — specifically  the  use  of  herbi- 
cides to  selectively  kill  trees — to  "arrest"  the 
successional  process  at  the  shrub  stage  of  devel- 
opment. Their  goal  was  to  manage  existing 
vegetation  to  form  a distinctively  beautiful, 
low-growing  landscape  that  would  not  interfere 
with  power  lines  or  highway  sightlines.  In  New 
England,  these  low-maintenance  associations 
commonly  include,  along  with  sweet  fern,  the 
following  woody  plants:  pitch  pine  (Pinus 
rigida),  red  cedar  (Juniperus  virginianaj,  gray 
birch  (Betula  populifolia),  meadowsweet  [Spiiea 
sp.),  bayberry  (Myrica  pensylvanica),  sumacs 
{Rhus  sp.),  low  and  highbush  blueberries 
(Vaccinium  angustifolium  and  corybosum),  and 
quaking  aspen  (Populus  tremuloides). 

The  University  of  Massachusetts  group  took 
the  Connecticut  College  concept  further  by 
working  out  specialized  techniques  for  actually 
planting — as  opposed  to  simply  managing — the 


shrub  cover  on  fresh  roadcuts  and  bankings.  The 
authors  found  that  root  pieces  of  sweet  fern 
could  be  stuck  directly  into  a bare  bank  in  early 
spring.  According  to  recommended  procedure, 
root  cuttings  of  Comptonia,  which  can  be  any- 
where from  one-sixteenth  to  one-quarter  of  an 
inch  in  diameter  and  four  to  six  inches  long, 
should  be  planted  an  inch  deep  and  six  inches 
apart  and  mulched  with  two  to  three  inches  of 
wood  chips.  If  this  "direct  stick"  procedure  is 
followed,  sweet  fern  will  produce  a closed, 
weed-resistant  canopy  within  three  to  six  years. 

A Pathological  Problem 

The  final  chapter  in  the  Comptonia  story  pits 
one  plant  against  another  in  a battle  to  the 
death.  It  concerns  a disease  that  I became  aware 
of  only  after  publishing  an  article  advocating 
sweet  fern  for  landscape  use.  To  my  surprise, 
several  plant  pathologists  wrote  to  chide  me  for 
my  recommendation.  Sweet  fern,  it  turns  out, 
is  the  alternate  host  of  a fungus,  Cionartium 
comptoniae,  that  causes  sweet  fern  blister  rust 
on  hard  pines  with  needles  in  bundles  of  two 
or  three.  In  the  Northeast,  jack  pine  (Pinus 
banksiana)  and  pitch  pine  (P.  rigida)  can  be 
infected,  as  well  as  other  introduced  hard  pines. 
In  the  South,  shortleaf  pine  (P.  echinata)  and 
loblolly  pine  (P.  taeda)  can  be  seriously  infected. 

During  the  course  of  its  life  cycle  the  blister 
rust  has  two  hosts,  the  susceptible  pine  species 
and  either  sweet  fern  or  its  swamp-dwelling 
relative,  sweet  gale  (Myrica  gale).  The  fungus 
lives  one  stage  of  its  life  on  the  leaves  of  the 
sweet  fern  and  the  second  inside  the  stem  of  the 
pine  tree.  Although  Comptonia  is  only  slightly 
affected  by  the  fungus,  the  susceptible  pine  can 
be  seriously  damaged  or  even  killed. 

Control  of  the  disease  is  difficult,  given  sweet 
fern's  wide  natural  range,  but  the  forestry  litera- 
ture makes  a few  simple  recommendations, 
including  taking  care  not  to  plant  infected  pine 
trees  and  clearing  out  sweet  fern  colonies 
within  a quarter  mile  of  any  commercial  hard 
pine  plantation.  In  a report  on  the  susceptibility 
of  loblolly  pine  to  sweet  fern  blister  rust,  J.  D. 
Artman  and  T.  N.  Reeder  (1977)  observed  that 
sweet  fern  "may  become  a major  ground  cover 
when  dry  sites  are  intensively  prepared  for 
planting."  What  the  authors  mean  by  intensive 


PETER  DEL  TREDICI 


10  Arnoldia  1996  Fall 


A few  last  leaves  cling  to  the  stems  of  Comptonia  peregrina  even  through  the  snows  of  winter. 


site  preparation  is,  of  course,  bulldozing  before 
planting  trees.  This  observation,  buried  deep 
within  a technical  report,  confirmed  once  again 
the  intimate  relationship  between  Comptonia 
and  catastrophic  disturbance. 

Conclusion 

No  discussion  of  Comptonia  would  be  complete 
without  saying  something  about  its  effect 
on  the  human  senses.  As  the  first  settlers  of 
Concord  learned  all  too  well,  the  scent  of 
Comptonia  on  a warm  summer's  day  can  he 
overwhelming — a thick,  resinous  pungency  that 
borders  on  the  unpleasant.  More  spicy  than 
sweet,  the  warm  scent  conjures  up  the  fullness 
of  summer,  which  no  doubt  explains  why 
Comptonia  foliage  is  often  dried  for  use  in 
sachets  and  potpourris.  I suspect,  too,  that  the 
use  of  Comptonia  as  tea  hy  Native  Americans 
and  Europeans  may  have  had  as  much  to  do 


with  its  pleasing  fragrance  as  with  its  supposed 
medicinal  attributes. 

A second  trait  of  sweet  fern,  one  that  catches 
the  eye  rather  than  the  nose,  is  its  tendency  to 
hold  onto  its  leaves  late  into  the  growing  sea- 
son. Even  in  the  middle  of  winter  one  can  find  a 
few  leaves  clinging  to  the  stems  of  the  plant. 
Thoreau  described  this  feature  in  his  journal 
entry  for  January  14,  1860,  along  with  his 
response  to  it:  "Those  little  groves  of  sweet-fern 
still  thickly  leafed,  whose  tops  now  rise  above 
the  snow,  are  an  interesting  warm  hrown-red 
now,  like  the  reddest  oak  leaves.  Even  this  is  an 
agreeable  sight  to  the  walker  over  snowy  fields 
and  hillsides.  It  had  a wild  and  jagged  leaf,  alter- 
nately serrated.  A warm  reddish  color  revealed 
by  the  snow."  And  finally,  in  a passage  that 
moves  from  mundane  detail  into  emotional 
description,  Thoreau  writes  of  the  sweet  fern 
stem,  densely  covered  with  fine  hairs:  "As 


Sweet  Fern  1 1 


nature  generally,  on  the  advent  of  frost,  puts 
on  a russet  and  tawny  dress,  so  is  not  man 
clad  more  in  harmony  with  nature  in  the  fall  in 
a tawny  suit  or  the  different  hues  of  Vermont 
gray?  I would  fain  see  him  glitter  like  a sweet- 
fern  twig  between  me  and  the  sun"  (October  16, 
1859). 

References 

Artman,  ].  D.,  and  T.  N.  Reeder,  Jr.  1977.  Sweetfern 
blister  rust  found  in  young  loblolly  pine 
plantations  in  Maryland  and  Delaware.  Journal 
of  Forestry  75:  136-138. 

Beal,  F.  E.  1911.  Food  of  woodpeckers  of  the  United 
States.  USD  A Biological  Survey  Bulletin  37. 

Bowes,  B.,  D.  Callaham,  and  f.  G.  Torrey.  1977.  Time- 
lapse  photographic  observations  of  mor- 
phogenesis in  root  nodules  of  Comptonia 
peregrina,  the  sweet  fern.  Botanical  Gazette 
137:  262-268. 

Callaham,  D.,  and  J.  G.  Torrey.  1977.  Prenodule 
formation  and  primary  nodule  development  in 
roots  of  Comptonia  |Myricaceae).  Canadian 
Journal  of  Botany  55:  2306-2318. 

Callaham,  D.,  P.  Del  Tredici,  and  J.  G.  Torrey.  1978. 

Isolation  and  cultivation  in  vitro  of  the 
actinomycete  causing  root  nodulation  in 
Comptonia.  Science  199:  899-902. 

Del  Tredici,  P.  1977.  The  buried  seeds  of  Comptonia 
peregrina,  the  sweet  fern.  Bulletin  of  the 
Torrey  Botanical  Club  104:  270-275. 

Del  Tredici,  P.,  and  J.  G.  Torrey.  1976.  On  the 
germination  of  seeds  of  Comptonia  peregrina, 
the  sweet  fern.  Botanical  Gazette  137:  262- 
268. 

Elias,  T.  S.  1971.  The  genera  of  Myricaceae  in  the 
southeastern  United  States.  Journal  of  the 
Arnold  Arboretum  52:  305-318. 

Erichsen-Brown,  C.  1979.  Medicinal  and  other  uses  of 
North  American  plants.  Toronto:  General 
Publ.  Co. 

Fry,  J.  T.  1996.  Bartram's  garden  catalogue  of  North 
American  plants.  Journal  of  Garden  History 
16(1):  1-66. 

Goforth,  P.  L.,  and  J.  G.  Torrey.  1977.  The  development 
of  isolated  roots  of  Comptonia  peregrina 


(Myricaceae)  in  culture.  American  Journal  of 
Botany  64:  476-482. 

Hyde,  L.  C.,  J.  Troll,  and  J.  M.  Zak.  1972.  Growing 
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Johnson,  E.  1654.  Wonderworking  Providence  of  Sion’s 
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Josselyn,  J.  (1672)  1972.  New-Englands  Rarities 
Discovered.  Boston:  Massachusetts  Historical 
Society. 

Kalm,  P.  (1770)  1987.  Travels  into  North  America,  ed.  A. 
B.  Benson.  NY:  Dover. 

Kenfield,  W.  G.  1966.  The  Wild  Gardener  in  the  Wild 
Landscape.  NY:  Hafner. 

Linnaeus,  C.  (1753)  1957.  Species  Plantarum.  Facsimile 
ed.,  2 vols.  London:  Ray  Society. 

Marshall,  H.  1785.  Arbustrum  Americanum,  the 
American  Grove.  Philadelphia:  Hafner. 

Niering,  W.  A.,  and  R.  H.  Goodwin.  1974.  Creation  of 
relatively  stable  shrublands  with  herbicides: 
arresting  "succession"  on  rights-of-way  and 
pastureland.  Ecology  55:  784-795. 

Schramm,  J.  R.  1966.  Plant  colonization  studies  on 
black  wastes  from  anthracite  mining  in 
Pennsylvania.  Transactions  of  the  American 
Philosophical  Society  56{l]:  1-194. 

Schwintzer,  C.  1989.  All  field-collected  actinorhizae 
examined  on  Comptonia  peregrina  and  Myrica 
pensylvanica  in  Maine  are  spore  negative. 
Canadian  Journal  of  Botany  67:  1460-1464. 

and  J.  D.  Tjepkema.  1990.  The  Biology  of  Frankia 

and  Actinorhizal  Plants.  San  Diego:  Academic 
Press. 

Thoreau,  H.  D.  1962.  The  Journal  of  Henry  D.  Thoreau, 
1837-1861,  ed.  B.  Torrey  and  F.  H.  Allen.  N.Y.: 
Dover  Publ.,  reprint  of  the  1906  edition. 

Zobel,  R.  W.,  P.  Del  Tredici,  and  J.  G.  Torrey.  1976. 

Method  for  growing  plants  aeroponically.  Plant 
Physiology  57:  344-346. 


Peter  Del  Tredici  is  Director  of  Living  Collections  at  the 
Arnold  Arboretum. 


A Park  and  Garden  in  Vermont: 
Olmsted  and  the  Webbs  at  Shelburne  Farms 

Alan  Emmet 


With  the  Adirondacks  as  a backdrop  across  Lake  Champlain,  the  W.  S.  Webbs, 
with  guidance  from  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  entirely  transformed  their  property 
to  accord  with  their  own  vision.  Owing  to  a continuity  of  ownership  and 
planning,  the  landscape  of  the  Webbs  has  lasted  now  for  over  a century. 


Anyone  who  walks  through  the  woods  in  New 
England  can  hardly  miss  the  stone  fences. 
Lichen-covered,  often  half-huried  in  pine 
needles,  they  thread  their  way  up  hill  and  down, 
now  and  then  meeting  each  other  at  odd  sharp 
angles.  These  fences  are  such  an  obvious  sign  of 
a drastically  altered  land  use  that  you  begin  to 
wonder  how  the  land  once  looked.  And  then  you 
marvel  at  the  sheer  strength  and  determination 
of  the  region's  first  farmers. 

The  terrain  at  Shelburne  Farms  is  different. 
Here,  beside  Lake  Champlain  in  northern  Ver- 
mont, you  could  walk  through  a thousand  acres 
of  woods  and  pastureland  without  encountering 
even  a remnant  of  the  typical  old  stone  fences. 
The  landscape  is  idyllically  pastoral,  with 
Brown  Swiss  cows  browsing  in  verdant  rolling 
meadows.  This  bucolic  setting,  unique  now  in 
the  rapidly  developing  periphery  of  Burlington, 
Vermont's  largest  city,  has  long  been  an 
anomaly.  The  truth  is  that  Shelburne  Farms  was 
deliberately  made  to  look  different  from  the 
surrounding  countryside.  The  boundary  walls 
of  the  old  agricultural  order  were  removed, 
stone  by  stone,  in  the  1880s,  and  the  terrain  was 
reshaped  on  a new  and  grand  scale. 

William  Seward  Webb  (1851-1926)  had  grown 
up  in  New  York  City,  where  his  father  was  the 
"pugnacious"  editor  of  a New  York  paper. ‘ 
Seward  Webb  studied  medicine  in  Europe  and  at 
Columbia.  He  practiced  for  only  three  or  four 
years  before  turning  to  finance  on  Wall  Street, 
where  he  established  his  own  brokerage  house. 
Before  long  he  became  involved  in  railroad  busi- 


ness with  William  Henry  Vanderbilt,  oldest 
son  and  chief  heir  of  "Commodore"  Cornelius 
Vanderbilt.^ 

Dr.  Webb  travelled  to  Vermont  in  1880  to 
look  at  the  Rutland  railroad  with  an  eye  to 
annexing  it  to  the  Vanderbilt  empire.  Although 
he  did  not  favor  acquisition  of  the  railroad, 
he  liked  what  he  saw  of  Burlington  and 
the  Champlain  Valley.  He  also  liked  the 
Vanderbilts.  In  1881,  Seward  Webb  married  Lila 
Vanderbilt,  the  next-youngest  of  William 
Henry's  eight  children.  Not  long  after  his  mar- 
riage, Dr.  Webb  was  named  president  of  the 
Wagner  Palace  Car  Company,  suppliers  of  sleep- 
ing cars  to  the  Vanderbilt-controlled  New  York 
Central  Railroad. 

For  a wedding  present,  Lila's  father  gave  her 
a house  on  Fifth  Avenue  at  54th  Street,  just  a 
block  from  his  own  mansion  and  those  of  other 
family  members.  Their  Fifth  Avenue  house  was 
to  be  the  Webbs'  primary  residence  for  thirty 
years.  As  the  location  for  their  requisite  country 
house,  they  promptly  settled  upon  the  remote 
and  unfashionable  part  of  Vermont  that  had 
appealed  to  Dr.  Webb. 

On  the  shores  of  Lake  Champlain  at 
Burlington,  the  Webbs  built  a rustic  summer 
cottage  called  Oakledge.^  This  was  all  very  well 
for  a young  couple,  but  the  Webbs  had  some- 
thing grander  in  mind.  Scouting  out  the  area, 
Seward  Webb  decided  the  most  desirable  land 
lay  along  the  lake  in  Shelburne.  The  farms  there 
may  have  been  worn  out,  but  the  topography 
and  the  scenery  were  special.  The  shoreline  was 
irregular,  with  rocky  promontories  and  curving 


Shelburne  Farms  13 


Steamer  off  Shelburne  Point,  oil  by  Charles  Lewis  Hyde.  This  midcentury  painting  illustrates  the  view  that 
Olmsted  admired  in  1845.  The  typical  agrarian  Vermont  landscape  in  the  foreground  later  became  part  of 
William  S.  Webb’s  Shelburne  Farms  and  was  subjected  to  a grand  reordering. 


bays.  From  any  point  along  that  stretch  of  shore, 
one  had  the  extraordinary  view  of  the  blue 
Adirondack  mountains,  rising  tier  on  tier,  on 
the  far  side  of  the  lake.  From  Lone  Tree  Flill  in 
Shelburne,  three  hundred  feet  above  the  water, 
the  view  to  the  west  was  even  more  impressive. 

Webb  began  negotiating  in  1885  to  buy  up 
parcels  of  land  in  Shelburne.  In  December  of 
that  year,  his  father-in-law  William  Henry 
Vanderbilt  died,  having  doubled  the  fortune  that 
his  father,  Cornelius,  had  bequeathed  to  him  a 
mere  eight  years  earlier.'*  Lila's  inheritance  was 
only  a small  fraction  of  her  father's  $200-million 
estate,  but  added  to  Seward  Webb's  own  rapidly 
growing  fortune,  the  couple's  means  seemed 
limitless.  The  Webbs  could  have  almost  any- 
thing they  wanted.  Dr.  Webb  enlarged  the  scope 
of  his  plans  for  Shelburne  and  accelerated  the 
pace  of  his  land  purchases.  Through  an  agent,  he 
negotiated  with  local  farmers,  many  of  them 
impoverished,  but  not  all  of  whom  were  pleased 
to  learn  that  they  had  granted  sales  options  to 
the  same  mysterious  buyer.'’  By  1891,  Webb  had 
purchased  all  or  portions  of  twenty-nine  farms, 
covering  2,800  acres.  The  prices  Webb  paid 
varied  widely,  but  the  average  was  less  than 
$150  per  acre  over  a six-year  period.  Existing 


farm  buildings  added  little  if  any  value,-  Webb 
was  interested  only  in  land.**  Still  he  continued 
to  buy.  Eventually  he  owned  almost  4,000  con- 
tiguous acres. 

Dr.  Webb  intended  all  along  to  reshape  the  sepa- 
rate farms  he  was  buying  into  one  great  unified 
whole.  His  first  move  was  to  hire  an  architect  to 
design  a suitable  house  and  major  farm  build- 
ings. His  choice  of  R.  H.  Robertson  was  a happy 
one  for  both  men.  Robertson  was  known  to 
Webb  as  a designer  of  railroad  stations  and  as 
architect  of  the  Gothic  Revival  Church  of  Saint 
James  in  Manhattan.  He  worked  for  Webb  for 
years.  With  Webb  as  his  patron,  Robertson's 
major  work  was  done  at  Shelburne. 

One  of  Dr.  Webb's  first  directives  to 
Robertson  was  to  ask  Frederick  Law  Olmsted, 
then  the  nation's  preeminent  landscape  archi- 
tect, to  come  as  soon  as  possible  to  Shelburne  to 
confer  in  regard  to  the  "landscape  department."^ 
In  his  June  1886  letter  to  Olmsted  conveying 
Webb's  invitation,  Robertson  wrote  that  he  had 
been  retained  to  design  "a  most  important 
Country  house,  stock  barns — stables  etc."  for 
the  1,700  acres  that  Webb  had  by  that  time 
purchased  along  the  lake.  To  make  sure  that 


SHELBURNE  FARMS 


1 4 Ainoldia  1 996  Fall 


Preliminary  Study  for  Part  of  Plan  for  Laying  Out  the  Shelburne  Farms 
Estate  for  Dr.  W.  S.  Webb,  by  F.  L.  and  /.  C.  Olmsted,  1887.  The  lake 
shore  is  at  the  lower  edge  of  this  plan;  the  house,  shown  at  the  center, 
with  its  “home  grounds”  and  “home  stables”  on  top  of  Lone  Tree  Hill, 
was  actually  built  close  to  the  lake,  contrary  to  Olmsted’s  advice.  The 
plan  indicates  Olmsted’s  division  of  the  estate  into  separate  areas  of 
farm,  park,  and  forest. 


Olmsted  realized  the  significance  of  the  project, 
Robertson  wrote  that  "if  justice  is  done  to  the 
situation  and  conditions  it  will  without  doubt 
he  one  of  the  most  important  and  beautiful 
country  places  in  America  and  in  view  of  this 
fact  I hope  you  can  undertake  the  problem.” 
Olmsted  wrote  to  Dr.  Webb  immediately, 
arranging  to  make  an  inspection  trip  to 
Shelburne  the  very  next  week,  adding  that  his 
charge  for  a preliminary  visit  would  be  $100  and 
traveling  expenses.®  Within  a month  after  his 
first  visit,  Olmsted  had  formulated  the  basis  for 
his  proposal,  which,  as  he  outlined  it  to  his  col- 
league, Charles  Eliot,  was  to  be  "a  perfectly 
simple  park,  or  pasture-field,  a mile  long  on  the 
lake,  half  a mile  deep,  the  house  looking  down 
over  it."^ 

Olmsted  was  at  the  peak  of  his  career  when 
he  agreed  to  advise  Dr.  Webb.  Ten  years  earlier, 
having  completed  his  work  on  the  New  York 
City  parks,  he  had  moved  his  office  to 
Brookline,  Massachusetts.  Since  then,  his  prac- 


tice had  taken  him  all  over  the  coun- 
try. He  continued  to  design  public 
parks  for  cities,  including  Boston, 
Detroit,  and  Washington,  DC.  He 
advised  on  campus  plans,  ranging  from 
Groton  School  to  Stanford  University. 

He  collaborated  with  prominent  archi- 
tects such  as  H.  H.  Richardson  on 
designs  for  private  estates.  At  about 
the  same  time  that  he  took  on  Dr. 
Webb  as  a client,  he  was  working 
for  other  members  of  the  extended 
Vanderbilt  family  in  Newport,  Lenox, 
and  Bar  Harbor.  Biltmore,  by  far  his 
largest  undertaking  for  a private 
client,  was  still  ahead.  Olmsted's 
connection  with  the  Vanderbilts  had 
even  included  laying  out  the  grounds 
for  the  family  mausoleum  on  Staten 
Island. 

Staten  Island,  as  it  happened,  had 
been  the  site  of  Olmsted's  first  contact 
with  the  Vanderbilts.  In  1848,  aged 
twenty-six  and  unsure  of  his  life  work, 
Olmsted  had  attempted  to  run  a farm 
bought  for  him  by  his  father.  He  lasted 
only  two  years  on  Staten  Island  but 
did  get  to  know  a neighboring  farmer, 
William  Henry  Vanderbilt  (the  father,  much 
later,  of  Lila  Webb)."  Vanderbilt  was  exactly 
the  same  age  as  Olmsted.  He  had  been  rusti- 
cated to  farming  by  his  father,  Cornelius,  who 
at  the  time  considered  him  "an  improvident 
dolt.""  Dolt  or  not,  Vanderbilt's  farm,  unlike 
Olmsted's,  was  quite  prosperous. 

Throughout  his  career  as  a landscape  archi- 
tect, one  of  Olmsted's  primary  goals  was  to 
improve  the  environment  of  the  burgeoning 
cities  where  more  and  more  people  spent  their 
lives.  At  the  same  time,  he  perceived  the  impor- 
tance of  planning  to  preserve  wilderness  areas 
and  places  of  particular  natural  beauty.  Olmsted 
worked  to  protect  Yosemite  and  Niagara  Falls, 
places  he  deemed  to  be  national  treasures,  the  ^ 
birthright  of  all  Americans.  His  work  for  rich 
private  clients  was  just  as  firmly  grounded  in 
his  belief  in  the  necessity  for  conserving  natural 
resources. 

Wherever  he  worked,  Olmsted  was  keenly 
aware  of  the  character  and  scenery  of  the  locale. 


Janet  Stearns 


Tne  Arnola  ArLoretum 


NEWS 


New  Exhibit  Opens:  Science  in  the  Pleasure  Ground 


For  125  years,  the  Arnold  Arbore- 
tum, the  country’s  oldest  arbore- 
tum, has  been  a source  of 
enjoyment  and  education  in  and 
beyond  its  265  acres  in  Jamaica 
Plain.  In  October,  as  the  first 
event  in  a milestone  anniversary 
celebration,  the  Arboretum 
unveiled  a new,  permanent  exhibit 
in  the  Hunnewell  Visitor’s  Center. 
Titled  “Science  in  the  Pleasure 
Ground,  ” the  exhibit  looks  back 
at  the  Arboretum’s  history  and 
reflects  on  the  value  of  its  land- 


scape as  a resource  for  exploring 
both  cultural  and  natural  history. 
It  illustrates  a range  of  topics  that 
include  the  Arboretum’s  role  in 
plant  conservation,  exploration, 
and  research  as  well  as  in  the  evo- 
lution of  landscapes,  both  private 
and  public. 

An  8-by- 16-foot  model  of  the 
Arboretum  takes  center  stage  in 
the  exhibit.  In  40-to-l  scale,  more 
than  4,000  miniature  trees  repli- 
cate the  living  collections.  The 
model  also  features  historical 


vignettes  of  various  periods, 
forming  a “mosaic  of  time.”  For 
instance,  one  vignette  portrays  the 
mansion  and  landscape  plantings 
of  the  mid- 19th-century  merchant 
and  gentleman  farmer  Benjamin 
Bussey,  whose  estate  later  became 
the  Arnold  Arboretum.  Another 
vignette  depicts  the  archeological 
dig  that  confirmed  the  existence 
of  prehistoric  habitation  on  the 
grounds  many  thousands  of  years 
ago.  A rail  around  the  perimeter 
of  the  model  accomodates  further 


In  the  Arboretum’s  new  8-by-l6-foot  model,  a vignette  of  the  devastation  wreaked  by  the  hurricane  of  1938 
can  be  seen  on  the  slopes  of  Hemlock  Hill.  High  winds  knocked  down  1,500  trees.  Across  the  road  is  a replica 
of  the  sawmill  known  to  have  stood  on  Bussey  (then  Sawmill)  Brook  in  1654. 


interpretation  of  the  landscape’s  evolution. 

Surrounding  the  model,  five  exhibits  illustrate 
other  aspects  of  the  Arboretum’s  history:  the  design 
of  the  landscape;  plant-collecting  explorations;  forest 
conservation  here  and  abroad;  American  horticulture; 
and  the  various  uses  of  wood.  The  exhibit’s  combina- 
tion of  historic  photographs,  plans,  and  drawings  as 
well  as  physical  artifacts,  video  clips,  and  interactive 
features  is  designed  to  appeal  to  viewers  of  varying 
interest  levels.  In  the  plant  exploration  exhibit,  visi- 
tors can  test  their  knowledge  of  the  origin  of  trees  in 
the  “plant-matching  game,"  which  provides  clues 
about  some  of  America’s  most  popular  plants. 
Another  exhibit  tells  the  story  of  the  design  collabo- 
ration between  Charles  Sprague  Sargent,  the 
Arboretum’s  fitst  director,  and  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted,  America’s  preeminent  landscape  architect 
and  designer  of  Boston’s  Emerald  Necklace  park 
system.  Features  in  this  part  of  the  exhibit  include  a 
replica  of  Olmsted’s  drafting  table,  original  land- 
scape drawings  dating  to  1872,  and  then-and-now 
photos  of  the  landscape. 

Funded  by  the  National  Endowment  for  the 
Flumanities  and  by  private  donations,  the  exhibit 
grew  out  of  an  earlier  NEH-funded  book  trilogy 
about  the  Arboretum  published  between  1991  and 
1995:  A Reunion  of  Trees  by  Stephen  A.  Spongberg, 
New  England  Natives  by  Sheila  Connor,  and  Science  in 
the  Pleasure  Ground  by  Ida  Hay.  It  is  from  the  wealth 


of  information  generated  by  this  trilogy  that  the 
"Science  in  the  Pleasure  Ground”  exhibit,  in  addition 
to  a program  of  tours,  signage,  and  children’s  field 
study,  developed. 


The  participation  of  Living  Collections  staff  ensured 
that  all  4,00()-plus  miniature  trees  were  planted  in 
their  proper  places  on  the  new  model.  Just  before 
completion,  Stephen  Spongberg  organized  a tree- 
planting opportunity  for  all  staff  members.  Seen  here 
from  left  are  Sheila  Baskin,  Perry  Rivera,  Stephen 
Spongberg,  Kyle  Port,  and  John  Del  Rosso. 


Surrounding  the  new  model  are  five 
exhibits  that  illustrate  the  history  of 
the  Arboretum  in  images,  artifacts, 
video  clips,  and  interactive  features. 

Above  is  Gilbert  Stuart’s  1809  likeness 
of  Benjamin  Bussey,  a Boston 
businessman  who  pursued  scientific 
farming  and  experiments  in 
reforestation  at  “Woodland  Hill,”  one 
of  Boston’s  grand  country  estates. 

“Bussey’s  Woods,”  seen  at  right  in  an  1892  etching,  was  a popular  destination  for  Bostonians  seeking 
fresh  air  and  natural  scenery.  When  Bussey  died  in  1842,  he  bequeathed  his  Jamaica  Plain  farm  to  Harvard 

University  for  purposes  of  agricultural  research. 


2 


FALL  1996 


Karen  Madsen 


Janet  Stearns 


Above  is  E.  H.  Wilson,  one  of  the  Arboretum’s  most 
famous  plant  explorers,  seen  in  1907  on  one  of  his 
collecting  expeditions  to  China.  On  trips  to  Japan,  Korea, 
and  Formosa  (Taiwan)  as  well  as  China,  he  collected  more 
than  two  thousand  plants  that  were  new  to  Western 
gardens.  Above  at  right  is  a travel  permit  issued  to 
Wilson  in  western  China. 

Over  the  years  the  Arboretum  has  sponsored 
many  expeditions  to  Asia  and  continues  to  do  so.  The 
herbarium  specimen  at  right  documents  a plant  collected 
in  Sarawak,  Borneo,  by  John  Burley,  Arboretum  Research 
Director,  in  1987.  National  Cancer  Institute  researchers, 
in  a test  designed  to  identify  properties  that  inhibit  the 
AIDS  virus,  discovered  that  under  laboratory  conditions 
an  extract  of  the  plant,  Calophyllum  lanigerum  var. 
austrocoriaceum,  “essentially  halted  HIV-1  replication.” 


Amy  L.  C.  Wilson  Karen  Madsen 


Professor  Xue  Ji-ru  Visits  Arboretum 

Stephen  A.  Spongberg,  Horticultural  Taxonomist 


Stephen  Spongberg,  Professor  Xue,  and  Peter  Del 
Tredici  in  the  shadows  of  the  Arboretum’s  original 
Metaseqnoia  glyptostrohoides. 


On  the  afternoon  of  October  1 1 , the  stall  of  the 
Arnold  Arboretum  was  honored  by  a visit  from  Pro- 
fessor Xue  Ji-ru  from  Kunming  in  Yunnan  Province, 
China.  Professor  Xue  (who  has  published  many 
botanical  studies  under  the  name  Hsueh  Chi  Ju)  was 
the  Chinese  forester  who  in  1946  visited  the  remote 
hamlet  ol  Modaoqi  in  Hubei  Province  and  collected 
the  type  specimens  on  which  the  Chinese  botanists 
H.  H.  Hu  and  W.  C.  Cheng  based  their  1948 
description  oi  Metaseqnoia  glyptostrohoides.  In  January 
of  that  year  E.  D.  Merrill,  then  director  of  the  Arnold 
Arboretum,  received  the  first  shipment  of  Metasequoia 
seeds  from  China.  Merrill  was  largely  responsible 
lor  distributing  the  seeds  ol  this  “living  fossil,"  fre- 
quently known  as  the  dawn  redwood,  to  sister  insti- 
tutions and  interested  individuals  around  the  world. 

While  Professor  Xue  has  devoted  his  long  and 
fruitful  career  to  the  study  ol  Chinese  bamboos,  he 
was  particularly  interested  to  examine  the  many 
dawn  redwoods  growing  in  various  locations  in  the 
Arboretum.  Earlier  in  the  day  he  visited  the 
Arboretum's  collections  in  the  Harvard  University 
Herbaria  in  Cambridge  where  he  saw  one  of  the 
specimens  of  Metasequoia  he  had  collected  fifty  years 
earlier.  At  a small  reception  held  in  his  honor  in  the 
late  afternoon,  Professor  Xue  met  many  Arboretum 
staff  members  and  reminisced  about  his  plant 
discoveries  in  China. 


Open  House 

The  highlight  of  the 
1996  Fall  Open  House 
was  the  opening  of  the 
new  Arboretum  exhibit, 
but  the  event  also  featured 
tours  of  grounds  and 
greenhouses,  a bucket 
truck  and  backhoe 
demonstration,  and 
refreshments.  Once  again 
this  year,  children’s 
program  staff  and 
volunteers  guided  a maple- 
tree  treasure  hunt  for 
families.  Despite  brisk 
winds  and  threatening 
skies,  it  was  very  well 
attended. 


FALL  1996 


Harvard  University  Herbaria  Incorporate  5,000,000th  Specimen 


The  Harvard  University  Herbaria 
celebrated  a major  milestone  in 
October — the  addition  of  the 
5,000,000th  specimen  to  their 
collections  of  dried  plant  and 
fungal  material.  The  Herbaria — 
which  include  those  of  the  Arnold 
Arboretum,  the  Gray  Herbarium, 
the  Farlow  Herbarium,  the 
Botanical  Museum,  and  the  New 
England  Botanical  Club — now 
form  the  eighth  largest  such  plant 
collection  worldwide,  with  the 
largest  collection  of  Asian  plants 
in  the  United  States,  the  second 
largest  orchid  collection  in  the 
world,  and  more  than  150,000 
type  specimens.  In  each  of  the  past 
five  years,  the  Harvard  Herbaria 
have  acquired  approximately 
20,000  specimens  and  have  sent 
out  an  additional  7,500  specimens 
in  exchanges  with  other  herbaria. 

The  Herbaria  also  make  over  300 
loans  (25,000  to  30,000  speci- 
mens) annually  to  researchers  at 
other  institutions  throughout 
the  world. 

Harvard’s  rich  and  varied 
botanical  collections  can  be  traced 
back  to  Asa  Gray  who,  after  com- 
ing to  Harvard  in  1842,  described  and  catalogued 
the  wealth  of  plant  samples  that  were  being  col- 
lected in  the  American  West  and  in  the  Old 
World.  Many  of  these  plants  were  new  to  science, 
and  Gray’s  activities  led  to  the  founding  of  the 
herbarium  that  bears  his  name. 

Charles  Sprague  Sargent,  first  director  of  the 
Arnold  Arboretum,  was  one  of  several  of  Gray’s 
students  and  associates  who  also  developed  sepa- 
rate botanical  institutions  at  Harvard.  A system- 
atic collection  was  founded  at  the  Arboretum 
soon  after  its  establishment  in  1872.  This  her- 
barium now  contains  approximately  1,307,000 
specimens;  those  of  cultivated  origin  are  housed 
in  the  Hunnewell  Building  in  Jamaica  Plain, 
those  of  wild-collected  origin  are  in  Cambridge. 
The  Arboretum  collections  are  especially  strong 


in  material  from  Indo-Malesia  (India  to  the 
Philippines  and  Papuasia),  China,  and  eastern  and 
southeastern  Asia  in  general.  The  Chinese  and 
Philippine  collections  are  probably  as  comprehen- 
sive as  any  in  the  world.  The  collections  are  rich 
in  type  specimens  largely  due  to  the  work  of  staff 
members  such  as  Richard  A.  Howard,  E.  D. 
Merrill,  E.  J.  Palmer,  A.  Rehder,  C.  S.  Sargent, 
and  E.  H.  Wilson.  Several  special  collections 
reflect  the  interests  of  former  staff  members. 
Among  them  are  the  Susan  McKelvey  Agave  and 
Yucca  spirit  collection  and  the  Shaw  collection  of 
the  genus  Pinus.  The  herbarium  of  cultivated 
plants  in  Jamaica  Plain  contains  approximately 
160,000  specimens  and,  as  might  be  guessed,  is 
especially  strong  in  woody  plants  cultivated  in 
temperate  regions. 


ARNOLD  ARBORETUM  NEWS 


5 


New  Plant  Inventory  Available 

The  1996  edition  of  the  Arnold  Arboretum’s 
Inventory  of  Living  Collections  has  just  been  published 
This  172-page,  bound  volume  lists  all  the  names 
and  locations  of  the  more  than  four  thousand 
different  plant  taxa  found  in  the  Arboretum’s 
living  collections.  In  addition,  this  new  edition 
of  the  inventory  contains  over  fifty  full-page 
illustrations  of  many  Arboretum  plants. 

Copies  of  the  inventory  can  be  obtained  by 
sending  a check  made  out  to  the  Arnold  Arbo- 
retum in  the  amount  of  S20.00  to: 

Arnold  Arboretum  Inventory,  The  Arnold  Arboretum 
125  Arborway,  Jamaica  Plain,  MA  02130-3519 


Arnold  Arboretum  Tot  Trot 


Chris  Strand, 

Outreach  Horticulturist 

More  than  a hundred  runners  with 
strollers  lined  up  in  front  of  the 
Hunnewell  Building  on  Sunday, 
September  8,  for  the  start  of  the 
Tot  Trot,  a race  to  benefit  the 
Italian  Home  for  Children  and  the 
New  England  Home  for  Little 
Wanderers.  When  Boston  mayor 
Thomas  Menino  punched  the 
starter’s  horn,  the  runners  surged 
forward  like  a scene  out  of  Chariots 
of  Fire  crossed  with  /Mr.  /Mo?«. 
Fathers,  mothers,  and  grandpar- 
ents pushed  their  tiny  passengers 
over  a 3-mile  course  that  wound 
its  way  through  the  Arboretum. 

Prizes  were  awarded  for  fastest 
single,  double,  and  triple  stroller 
as  well  as  to  runners  in  different 
age  categories.  No  one  walked 
away  emptyhanded:  raffle  prizes 
and  chrysanthemums  were  given 
to  those  who  didn't  finish  at  the 
top  of  their  class.  All  were  happy 
to  be  supporting  two  worthwhile 
charities. 

The  race  was  organized  by  Liza 
Draper  with  the  help  of  dozens  of 
volunteers.  They  plus  several 


sponsors,  including  the  City  of 
Boston  and  the  Baby  Jogger  Com- 
pany, were  responsible  for  the 


race’s  success.  More  than  $3,000 
was  raised  for  the  two  charities  for 
their  work  with  at-risk  children. 


6 


FALL  1996 


Jim  Gorman 


Field  Study  Experiences 

Tried-and-True  Arboretum  Visits  for  Elementary  Schoolchildren 

Diane  Syterson,  Manager  of  School  Programs 

Describing  the  Arboretum's  field 
study  program  for  schoolchildren 
has  never  been  simple.  To  call 
them  field  trips  minimizes  the 
rich  contribution  these  visits  can 
make  to  a classroom’s  science  cur- 
riculum. Consider,  for  example, 
the  experience  of  Ann  Click,  a 
teacher  at  Dorchester's  Ellis 
Mendell  School.  Last  year,  Ms. 

Click  brought  her  fourth-  and 
fifth-graders  for  three  field  study 
experiences,  outdoor  investiga- 
tions used  in  tandem  with  her 
classroom  science  units.  In  the  fall 
her  students  concluded  several 
weeks  of  seed  study  with  the 
Arboretum's  "Plants  in  Autumn” 
program.  Back  at  school,  they  de- 
veloped a seed-dispersal  classifica- 
tion system  using  ideas  and  seeds 
gathered  during  the  Arboretum 
visit.  Ms.  Click  is  especially 
pleased  that  the  field  study  activi- 
ties build  on  the  children’s  knowl- 
edge, validating  their  opinions 
and  experience. 

The  program  schedule  fills 


early  each  year,  and  many  teachers 
return  annually.  The  approxi- 
mately 3,000  participants  are  ac- 
companied by  more  than  300 
teachers,  teacher  aides,  and  par- 
ents. Field  study  programs  are 


"Plants  in  Autumn,”  “Seeds  and 
Leaves,”  “Hemlock  Hill, " 
“Around  the  World  with  Trees,” 
and  “Flowers.”  New  this  year  are 
“Native  Plants,  Native  People  ” 
and  “Landscape  Explorers.” 


Lauren  Mofford,  Field  Study  Coordinator,  joined  the  staff  this  spring  to 
replace  California-bound  Annette  Huddle.  Lauren’s  work  experience 
includes  both  classroom  teaching  and  volunteer  coordination.  Thus  she 
comes  well  prepared  both  to  teach  elementary  school  groups  and  to  work 
with  a staff  of  forty-two  volunteers.  Lauren  holds  degrees  from  Simon’s 
Rock  of  Bard  College  and  Lesley  College,  the  latter  a B.S.  in 
environmental  studies. 


New  Staff  in  Living  Collections 


Kyle  Port,  a recent  graduate  in  environmental  horticulture  from 
Washington  State  University  in  Pullman,  Washington,  joined  the  staff 
in  July  of  this  year  as  Curatorial  Assistant  for  Plant  Records.  He  replaces 
Todd  Forrest,  who  began  graduate  studies  this  fall  at  the  Yale  Univer- 
sity Forestry  School. 

In  his  new  position,  Kyle  is  responsible  for  the  computerized  data- 
base, BG-BASE,  that  records  and  monitors  each  accession  (and  indi- 
vidual plant)  throughout  its  life  at  the  Arboretum.  Kyle  also  assists 
Susan  Kelley  with  the  computerized  mapping  of  the  collections  and 
Stephen  Spongberg  and  Peter  Del  Tredici  with  the  day-to-day  curation 
and  development  of  the  collections.  He  is  also  expected  to  play  a major 
role  in  implementing  the  Institute  of  Museum  Services  grant  recently 
awarded  for  a yearlong,  in-depth  survey  of  the  Arboretum's  current 
holdings  of  shrubs  and  woody  climbers  that  will  begin  in  1997.  Kyle 
was  a horticultural  intern  in  grounds  maintenance  this  past  summer. 


ARNOLD  ARBORETUM  NEWS 


Karen  Madsen  Karen  Madsen 


1 996  Fall  Plant  Sale  A Great  Success 

Lisa  Hastings,  Senior  Development  Officer 


Metaseqnoia  glyptostrohoides  and,  from  left,  Diana  Parker,  Henry  Meyer, 
Jr.,  Sheila  Magullion  at  the  1996  Fall  Plant  Sale. 


Take  one  beautiful  fall  day,  add 
thousands  of  choice  plants,  and 
the  result  is  a festive,  busy,  and 
very  successful  Fall  Plant  Sale. 

The  line  of  members  waiting  to 
enter  the  barn  wound  behind  the 
schoolhouse,  up  the  hill,  and 
through  the  auction  tents;  by  end 
of  day,  not  a plant  remained. 

Over  1,300  plants  were  given 
to  the  800  members  who  came  to 
collect  their  plant  dividend(s). 
They  also  took  the  opportunity  to 
purchase  Arboretum  plants  at 
member  discounts.  The  plant  sale 
preview  permitted  early  entrance 
to  the  barn  to  150  upper-level 
members.  Overall  attendance  was 
up  45%  over  our  rainy  day  last 
year  and  20%  over  1994. 

The  sale  raised  $30,000  to 
benefit  the  Living  Collections  at 
the  Arboretum,  a 16%  increase 
over  last  year.  A variety  of  factors 
account  for  the  increase,  not  least 
the  return  of  the  silent  auction 


and  a larger  straight  sales  area. 
Over  100  nurseries,  plant  organi- 
zations, and  individuals  supported 
the  event  with  donations  of  plants. 

The  Annual  Fall  Plant  Sale 
remains  the  Arboretum’s  largest 


member  event,  and  our  primary 
vehicle  for  providing  members 
with  access  to  unusual  plants. 
Mark  your  calendar  for  the 
1997  sale  scheduled  for  Sunday, 
September  21,  1997. 


Grow  with  us ... 

When  you  give  cash,  stock,  or  other  property  to  a 
life  income  plan  supporting  the  Arnold  Arboretum, 
you  will; 

• receive  income  for  life 

• realize  an  income  tax  deduction 

• avoid  capital  gains  tax 

• save  on  gift  and  estate  taxes 

• benefit  from  Harvard’s  professional 
investment  management  at  no  cost  to  you 

• invest  in  the  future  of  the  Arboretum 

There  are  several  plans  in  which  you  can  participate. 
For  more  information,  please  contact: 


Lisa  M.  Hastings,  Development  Officer  Anne  D.  McClintock,  Director 

Arnold  Arboretum  or  Planned  Giving  Office,  Harvard  University 

617/524-1718  ext.  145  800/446-1277  or  617/495-4647 


8 


FALL  1996 


Karen  Madsen 


Shelburne  Farms  15 


This,  to  him,  was  what  the  word  "landscape" 
meant.  He  realized  that  this  concern  set  him 
apart  from  others  in  his  field.  Most  designers,  he 
observed,  were  unfortunately  attuned  only  to 
elements,  incidents,  and  features,  rather  than 
the  landscape  itself.  This  he  held  to  be  the  direct 
result  of  their  training  as  gardeners.  "A  training 
which  is  innocently  assumed  to  be  a training  in 
landscape  gardening  is  a training  in  fact  away 
from  it."'^ 

At  a time  when  there  were  no  academic 
programs  in  landscape  design  and  planning, 
Olmsted's  own  education  had  depended  on  his 
remarkable  powers  of  observation.  Even  as  a 
young  man,  he  had  been  keenly  aware  of  scen- 
ery and  well  able  to  describe  what  he  saw.  In 
an  1845  letter  to  his  father,  he  had  by  chance 
described  the  actual  setting  of  what,  forty  years 
later,  was  to  become  Shelburne  Farms.  Explor- 
ing that  part  of  Vermont  on  a horse,  he  had 
observed  the  marginal  state  of  the  region's  agri- 
culture. He  rode  past  burnt  stumps,  patches  of 
mullein,  and  so  little  grass  that  "1  should  think 
the  poor  sheep  would  find  it  hard  work  enough 
to  live,  without  troubling  themselves  with 
growing  wool."  South  of  Burlington,  standing 
probably  on  Lone  Tree  Hill,  the  highest  point  at 
Shelburne  Farms,  Olmsted  encountered  one  of 
the  finest  views  he  had  ever  seen.  He  admired 
Lake  Champlain  with  its  bays  and  islands,  but 
the  "chief  charm"  was  the  mountain  backdrop 
across  the  lake. 

I never  saw  mountains  rise  more  beautifully  one 
above  another  the  larger  ones  seeming  to  cluster 
round  and  protect  the  smaller,  nor  did  the  sum- 
mer veil  of  haze  ever  sit  on  them  more  sweetly. 
Back  of  all  rose  some  magnificent  thunderheads 
and  they  rose  fast  too,  compelling  me  at  5 
o'clock  to  take  refuge  and  toast  and  eggs  in  a 
little  road-side  inn.''* 

The  setting  was  certainly  no  less  impressive 
in  1886,  when  Olmsted  responded  to  Dr.  Webb's 
summons. 

Relations  between  Webb  and  Olmsted  were 
unfailingly  polite,  but  not  entirely  harmonious. 
Both  were  men  of  strong  character,  with  firmly 
held  convictions.  Despite  disagreements,  how- 
ever, their  respect  for  each  other  never  wavered. 
Dr.  Webb,  the  client,  always  sought  and  de- 


manded the  best  of  everything.  He  employed 
Olmsted  because  Olmsted  was  unquestionably 
the  foremost  landscape  architect  in  the  country. 
Olmsted,  in  turn,  was  impressed  by  the  breadth 
of  Webb's  vision,  the  grand  scope  of  his  scheme, 
and,  doubtless,  the  apparently  unlimited  extent 
of  Webb's  resources  for  carrying  out  an  idea. 
When  he  first  embarked  on  the  project  for  Webb, 
Olmsted,  like  Robertson,  was  convinced  that, 
when  completed,  the  design  of  Shelburne  Farms 
"would  be  the  most  interesting  and  publicly 
valuable  private  work  of  the  time  on  the  Ameri- 
can continent."'-^ 

One  of  Olmsted's  proposals  for  Shelburne 
farms,  the  one  that  he  most  ardently  promoted, 
was  that  the  estate  include  an  arboretum  of  all 
the  trees  and  shrubs  native  to  Vermont.  The 
arboretum  was  to  accord  with  the  guidelines 
established  by  Harvard  professor  Charles 
Sprague  Sargent  in  planning  the  Arnold  Arbore- 
tum. To  stock  this  "Arboretum  Vermontii," 
Olmsted  urged  Webb  to  take  advantage  of  the 
distinguished  nursery  of  Pringle  and  Horsford, 
located  just  six  miles  south  of  Shelburne.'^ 
After  discussing  the  idea  with  his  superinten- 
dent, Arthur  Taylor,  who  would  be  responsible 
for  planting  and  care,  Webb  agreed  to  proceed 
with  the  arboretum.'^ 

As  envisioned  by  Olmsted,  the  arboretum 
was  to  follow  the  curving  roadways  he  had  laid 
out,  being  set  back  from  the  road  on  both  sides. 
Such  a scheme  meant  that  the  arboretum  would 
be  an  integral  and  very  visible  part  of  Shelburne 
Farms,  which  was  exactly  Olmsted's  intent.  He 
placed  orders  with  nurseries  all  across  the  coun- 
try for  species  that  Pringle  and  Horsford  were 
unable  to  supply  in  sufficient  quantity.  Thou- 
sands of  trees  and  shrubs  were  planted  under 
Taylor's  supervision,  beginning  in  1887.  For  the 
sake  of  economy,  a vast  number  were  grown  to 
planting-out  size  in  an  extensive  nursery  estab- 
lished on  the  Shelburne  property. 

As  was  his  custom,  Olmsted  had  recom- 
mended native  and  hardy  plants,  based  on  his 
analysis  of  the  site.  His  plant  lists  included 
most  of  the  northeastern  native  trees;  ashes, 
basswood,  birches,  elms,  hickories,  oaks,  and 
willows,  as  well  as  the  American  chestnut  and 
the  American  elm.'®  Balsam  fir,  hemlock,  and 
various  native  pines  were  ordered  in  quantity. 


16  Ainoldia  1996  Fall 


Olmsted  expected  Pringle  and  Horsford  to  col- 
lect many  shrub  species  by  the  hundred  from 
the  wild:  alders,  swamp  azalea,  blueberry,  but- 
tonbush,  elderberry,  pussy  willows,  black  and 
red  raspberries,  wild  roses,  viburnums,  witch 
hazel,  and  others.  He  also  ordered  native  vines, 
including  bittersweet,  clematis,  and  wild  grape. 
Olmsted  asked  for  wildflowers,  such  as  twin- 
flower  (Linnea  borealis)  and  trailing  arbutus 
(Epigaea  repens).  The  plants  ordered  for 
Shelburne  Farms  were  certainly  far  different 
from  the  typical  ornamentals  with  which  gar- 
deners and  estate  managers  were  decorating 
most  other  country  places  at  the  time. 
Olmsted's  ultimate  aim  seemed  to  be  to  repro- 
duce the  plant  diversity  that  the  region  might 
have  supported  a century  or  two  earlier,  before 
the  land  was  cleared  for  farming.  The  only  alien 
plants  he  ordered  were  western  evergreens 
from  P.  Douglass  &.  Sons:  Colorado  spruce 
(Picea  pungens)  and  Douglas-fir  (Pseudotsuga 
menziesii). 

Webb's  ideas  for  planting  began  to  diverge 
from  Olmsted's  as  soon  as  he  fully  undertood 
what  Olmsted  was  proposing.  Webb  wanted  to 
include  ornamental  varieties;  the  greenery 
indigenous  to  Vermont  seemed  too  stark  for 
the  Shelburne  Farms  he  envisioned.  He  began  to 
request  tender  and  exotic  species,  such  as  rhodo- 
dendrons, weeping  willows,  tea  roses,  and  garde- 
nias. Olmsted  pointed  out  that  these  would  not 
survive  at  Shelburne  and  would  be  entirely  out 
of  character  with  the  landscape.  He  refused  to 
involve  himself  with  the  growing  of  tropical 
flowers  under  glass,  if  that  were  Webb's  desire. 

A great  deal  of  planting  was  done  according  to 
Olmsted's  recommendation,  but  the  Vermont 
Arboretum  was  never  completed.  This  may 
have  been  Olmsted's  greatest  frustration  at 
Shelburne.  He  had  believed  strongly  that 
Shelburne  Farms,  although  privately  owned, 
would  have  a public  purpose.  As  he  wrote  when 
he  submitted  his  preliminary  plan  to  Webb  in 
July,  1887, 

I have  satisfied  myself  by  personal  examination 
of  the  feasibility  of  such  an  arrangement  and  that 
a beautiful,  interesting,  instructive  and  publicly 
important  arboretum  can  be  so  obtained,  the 
present  natural  woods  forming  an  appropriate 
and  harmonious  background  for  it  and  adding 
directly  to  its  scientific  value.“ 


Olmsted  lost  his  enthusiasm  for  Shelburne 
Farms  when  he  realized  that  Webb  did  not  share 
his  belief  in  the  educational  and  scientific 
importance  to  the  public  of  the  work  they  might 
have  accomplished  there  together.  After  the 
summer  of  1888,  Olmsted's  sons  and  associates 
attended  to  the  work  at  Shelburne.  The  senior 
Olmsted,  meanwhile,  was  becoming  deeply 
involved  with  an  even  larger  private  project,  and 
a much  more  sympathetic  patron.  At  Biltmore 
in  the  North  Carolina  mountains,  George 
W.  Vanderbilt,  Lila  Webb's  brother,  granted 
Olmsted  the  trust  and  the  latitude  that  he  had 
not  received  from  the  Webbs. 

Much  of  Olmsted's  preliminary  plan  was  imple- 
mented, as  were  his  carefully  articulated  prin- 
ciples of  design  and  the  separation  of  conflicting 
uses.  Olmsted  divided  the  property  into  three 
areas:  "1st  Tillage  and  pasture  lands  in  rotation; 
2nd  Park  or  permanent  pasture  lands,-  3rd  Forest 
Arboretum  Vermontii."^*  He  insisted  that  cattle 
should  be  kept  from  the  home  grounds,  the 
main  roads,  and  the  forest,  but  without  the  con- 
tinual nuisance  of  gates.  To  this  end,  Olmsted 
proposed  the  use  of  sunk  fences  with  retaining 
walls,  like  the  unobtrusive  ha-has  of  the  English 
landscape  school,  to  confine  the  livestock. 
Fences,  particularly  near  the  house,  were  to  be 
as  inconspicuous  as  possible.  Even  the  main 
entrance  gates  to  the  estate  could  generally  be 
left  open,  under  Olmsted's  plan.  The  existing 
"straight  and  graceless"  roads  were  to  be 
changed  in  course  and  character  to  suit  the 
terrain  and  the  lush  farmland  through  which 
they  would  run. 

The  new  trees  and  shrubs  were  to  be  set  back 
from  the  roads,  with  here  and  there  a grouping 
brought  forward  in  an  apparently  random  way. 
"Fine  specimen  trees  of  the  old  spontaneous 
growth  are  to  be  preserved,"  Olmsted  wrote. 
Groups  of  trees  and  the  undergrowth  were  to 
look  as  natural  as  possible. 

Olmsted  emphasized  to  Webb  the  importance 
of  having  a definite  plan  before  proceeding. 
Ongoing  land  purchases  made  this  difficult,  if 
not  impossible.  In  1889  after  purchasing  five 
pasture  farms  to  the  south  of  his  original  tract, 
Webb  finally  agreed  to  plant  the  hilly  northern 
part  of  the  estate  in  trees,  as  Olmsted  had  rec- 
ommended all  along. 


Shelburne  Farms  1 7 


A stretch  of  one  of  the  new  roads,  here  passing  between  old-growth  forest  trees  interspersed  with  recent 
planting.  Photo  by  T.  E.  Marr,  ca.  1900. 


SHELBURNE  FARMS 


18  Arnoldia  1996  Fall 


The  Webbs’  house  at  Shelburne  Farms,  designed  by  R.  FI.  Robertson,  photo  by  T.  E.  Marr,  Boston,  ca.  1900. 
The  rooms  on  this  western  side  face  Lake  Champlain  and  the  Adirondack  Mountains. 


The  English  parks  that  Olmsted  had  so 
admired  on  his  first  trip  abroad  as  a young  man 
in  1850  were  the  chief  source  of  his  inspiration 
throughout  his  long  career.  The  design  prin- 
ciples on  which  he  based  his  public  and  private 
work  came  from  his  interpretation  of  English 
landscape  styles.  The  idyllic  pastoral  landscape 
of  Shelburne  Farms  is  typically  Olmstedian. 
The  main  road  rolls  through  broad  meadowland, 
then  up  a gentle  rise  into  a stretch  of  deep 
woods.  Upon  emerging  again  into  the  open,  one 
glimpses  at  a distance  the  lake,  or,  at  another 
point,  the  great  house.  Then  the  road  bends 
away,  and  the  distant  vision  is  hidden  once 
again.  The  views  that  seem  so  accidental  were 
arranged  with  care.  Transitions  from  forest  to 
pasture  to  lawn  and  flower  garden  are  smooth 
and  gradual.  There  is  a sense  of  fitness  and 
inevitability  about  this  landscape. 

Webb  devoted  much  attention  to  agriculture 
at  Shelburne  Farms,  using  the  latest  scientific 
techniques,  which  he  hoped  would  set  an  ex- 
ample for  Vermont  farmers.  Close  to  the  manor 
house,  the  Webbs  had  an  ornamental  flower  gar- 
den. There  is  no  indication  that  the  Olmsted 
office  was  involved  in  its  design.  The  earliest 


garden  was  laid  out  in  geometrically  patterned 
beds,  reportedly  modelled  after  the  garden  at 
Hampton  Court. The  beds  were  planted  each 
year  with  massed  annuals  that  had  been  raised 
in  the  estate's  greenhouses.  By  1911,  Lila  Webb 
was  taking  more  interest  in  the  garden.  She  was 
dissatisfied  with  what  she  had.  Apparently,  she 
herself  planned  the  Italianate  garden  on  which 
work  began  in  1912.^^  The  new  garden  ran  the 
entire  length  of  the  house,  between  it  and  the 
lake.  Long,  low  brick  walls  divided  the  gentle 
declivity  into  shallow  terraces.  At  one  end  of 
the  upper  level,  a pergola  curved  around  an  oval 
basin.  On  the  lowest  terrace,  between  the  arms 
of  a balustraded  double  stairway,  was  a lily  pool. 
The  garden  ended  at  a parapet,  bowed  out  above 
the  cliff  at  the  lake's  edge.  Each  season,  tubbed 
bay  trees  were  put  out  along  the  balustrade.  The 
scene  looked  for  all  the  world  like  Isola  Bella  at 
Lake  Maggiore  or  like  the  Italian-inspired 
garden  of  1850  at  Bantry  House  in  Ireland  that 
overlooked  a bay  of  the  sea,  with  mountains  all 
around.  In  northern  Vermont  such  a garden  was 
definitely  unusual. 

A garden  of  this  style  and  magnitude  was  not 
uncommon,  however,  on  the  estates  of  the  rich 
in  pre-World  War  I America,  when  formality 


Shelburne  Farms  1 9 


From  the  flower  garden,  steps  descended  to  a lily  pool  and  a curved  parapet 
overlooking  Lake  Champlain.  Bay  trees  in  Italian  pots  were  set  out  each 
summer  along  the  balustrade.  Photo  by  A.  A.  McAllister,  1916. 


was  fashionable  and  European 
prototypes  were  valued.  The 
Webbs,  on  their  frequent  trips 
abroad,  had  statuary  and  a sun- 
dial shipped  home.  Stanford 
White  allegedly  brought  them 
an  antique  fountain  sculpture 
from  Italy.^®  The  Webbs  had  a 
mason  who  worked  full-time  to 
maintain  the  walls  and  stone- 
work while  a troop  of  gardeners 
managed  the  flower  beds.  There 
were  peony  beds,  a rose  garden, 
and  deep  perennial  borders 
backed  by  majestic  spires  of 
delphiniums  that  echoed  the 
shades  of  blue  in  the  mountains 
across  the  lake. 

Lila  Webb  amassed  a compre- 
hensive garden  library  as  her 
interest  grew.  Her  1847  copy  of 
(Samuel  B.)  Parsons  on  the  Rose 
is  inscribed  "Lila  from  Seward, 

1912."  She  had  English  books, 
already  classics,  by  John 
Sedding  and  Gertrude  Jekyll,  as 
well  as  the  recent  works  of 
Helena  Rutherfurd  Ely,  Louise 
Beebe  Wilder,  and  Mrs.  Francis 
King,  among  others.  Her  books 
included  at  least  three  on  Ital- 
ian gardens,  those  by  Charles 
Platt,  Edith  Wharton,  and 
George  S.  Elgood.  A tiny  1914 
diary  by  Lila  Webb  reads  as  if  it 
were  intended  to  be  a calendar 
of  practical  hints  to  other  gar- 
deners. If  she  had  filled  it  with 
authoritative  "dos  and  don'ts" 
for  each  month  or  week  of  the 
year,  her  book  could  have  fol- 
lowed a time-honored  tradi- 
tion: "Plant  Sweet  Peas  as  soon 
as  the  frost  is  out  of  the 
ground."  Unfortunately,  Lila  Webb's  literary 
efforts  petered  out  not  long  after  the  frost  would 
have  been  out  of  the  Shelburne  ground  that  year. 

Seward  Webb  died  at  Shelburne  Farms  in  1926. 
The  following  year,  by  act  of  God  or  as  an  indi- 


The  Webb  family 
grandchildren  in 
perennial  borders 
McAllister. 


in  the  flower  garden,  ca.  1916.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Webb  flank  their 
the  front  row.  The  delphinium  display  was  a feature  of  the 
. In  the  background  is  a long,  curved  pergola.  Photo  by  A.  A. 

cator  of  the  insidious  onset  of  neglect,  all  the 
potted  bay  trees  along  the  parapet  were  killed 
by  an  early  frost. The  glory  days  were  over. 
Shelburne  Farms  had  been  built  up  very  quickly. 

In  typically  American  fashion,  it  flourished  as 
long  as  did  its  creator.  Its  decline  was  precipi- 


20  Arnoldia  1 996  Fall 


tous — to  a point.  The  survival  and  rebirth  of 
Shelburne  Farms  could  be  a case  study  in  pres- 
ervation. Dr.  Webb's  descendants  have  shown  as 
much  determination,  and  as  much  devotion  to 
Shelburne  Farms,  as  their  progenitor. 

Endnotes 

' Seward  Webb  Dead  in  Vermont,"  New  York  Times,  30 
Oct.  1926. 

^ Wayne  Andrews,  The  Vanderbilt  Legend  (NY: 
Harcourt  Brace,  1941),  147. 

^ Joe  Sherman,  The  House  at  Shelburne  Farms 
(Middlebury,  VT:  Paul  S.  Eriksson,  1986),  9-11. 

John  Tebbel,  The  Inheritors:  A Study  of  America’s 
Great  Fortunes  and  What  Happened  to  Them  (NY;  G. 
P.  Putnam's  Sons,  1962),  30. 

^ Sherman,  The  House  at  Shelburne  Farms,  16. 

^ Land  records  of  the  Town  of  Shelburne,-  William  C. 
Lipke,  ed.,  Shelburne  Farms:  The  History  of  an 
Agricultural  Estate  (Burlington,  VT;  Robert  Hull 
Fleming  Museum,  University  of  Vermont,  1974),  16. 

^ R.  H.  Robertson  to  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  17  June 
1886,  Job  File  1031,  Box  B-74,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted 
Papers,  Manuscript  Division,  Library  of  Congress. 

® Frederick  Law  Olmsted  to  William  Seward  Webb,  18 
June  1886,  Olmsted  Papers. 

® Frederick  Law  Olmsted  to  Charles  Eliot,  20  July  1886, 
quoted  by  loan  Wiecek,  "Shelburne  Farms,"  Master's 
Degree  Project,  Dept,  of  Landscape  Architecture, 
University  of  Massachusetts,  1984,  21. 

Albert  Fein,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  and  the 
American  Environmental  Tradition  (NY:  Braziller, 
1972),  166-69. 

Laura  Wood  Roper,  FLO:  A Biography  of  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted  (Baltimore:  Johns  Hopkins  University 
Press,  1973),  55-66. 

Andrews,  Vanderbilt  Legend.  25. 

Quoted  in  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  Jr.,  &.  Theodora 
Kimball,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  Landscape 
Architect.  1822-1903  (NY:  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons, 
1922),  128. 


i'*  Ibid.,  64-65. 

Frederick  Law  Olmsted  to  William  Seward  Webb,  1 1 
April  1888,  Olmsted  Papers. 

Frederick  Law  Olmsted  to  William  Seward  Webb,  17 
March  1887,  Reel  Al:68,  Olmsted  Papers. 

William  Seward  Webb  to  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  26 
March  1887,  Olmsted  Papers. 

The  Olmsted  firm  placed  orders  with  Pringle  & 
Horsford  and  nine  other  nurseries  in  the  spring  of 
1887.  See  Olmsted  Papers  and  "List  of  Trees  and 
Shrubs  Proposed  to  be  ordered  for  Dr.  W.  S.  Webb,"  22 
April  1887,  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  National  Historic 
Site,  Brookline,  MA. 

F.  L.  Olmsted  &.  J.  C.  Olmsted  to  William  Seward 
Webb,  24  fan.  1889,  Reel  A3:140;  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted  to  William  Seward  Webb,  7 March  1888, 
Reel  A2;249,  Olmsted  Papers. 

Frederick  Law  Olmsted  to  William  Seward  Webb,  12 
July  1887,  Reel  Al:887,  Olmsted  Papers. 

Frederick  Law  Olmsted  to  William  Seward  Webb,  12 
July  1887,  Olmsted  Papers. 

Ibid. 

William  Seward  Webb  to  Frederick  Law  Olmsted,  20 
Feb.  1889,  Olmsted  Papers. 

Wiecek,  "Shelburne  Farms,"  44. 

Susan  Cady  Hayward,  "Gardens  of  a Gilded  Age," 
Vermont  Life  42  (Summer  1988):  6. 

Isabell  H.  Hardie,  "The  Garden  of  Mrs.  W.  Seward 
Webb,"  Country  Life  in  America  32  (Oct.  1917):62- 
63;  "The  Garden  at  Shelburne  Farms,"  Arts  and 
Decoration  11  (June  1919):66-67. 

Sherman,  The  House  at  Shelburne  Farms,  76. 


This  article  is  excerpted  from  the  chapter  on  Shelburne 
Farms  in  Alan  Emmet's  So  Fine  a Prospect:  Historic  New 
England  Gardens,  newly  published  by  the  University 
Press  of  New  England.  Her  article  on  the  Boott  family's 
garden  in  Boston,  a subject  she  returned  to  in  her  new 
book,  appeared  in  Arnoldia  47(4).  The  author  is  a 
consultant  in  garden  history  as  well  as  a writer.  Her  book 
is  reviewed  on  page  26. 


Itea  'Beppu':  The  Return  of  the  Native 


Peter  M.  Mazzeo  and  Donald  H.  Voss 

A "garden  variety"  observation  suggests  a taxonomic  puzzle. 
The  authors  sort  it  out. 


In  a 1980  article  in  Arnoldia,  Arnold  Arboretum 
horticulturist  Gary  Roller  gave  a cultivar 
name — 'Beppu' — to  a deciduous  Itea  growing  on 
top  of  a stone  wall  below  the  Dana  Greenhouses 
in  dry,  acid  soil  and  full  sun.  Having  grown  in 
that  location  for  six  years,  the  Arboretum's 
three  plants  were  then  about  0.7  to  0.9  meters 
(two-and-a-half  to  three  feet)  tall.  In  addition  to 
their  compact  hahit.  Roller  noted  their  vigor, 
graceful  summer  flowers,  and  the  wine-red  to 
reddish  purple  color  of  their  autumn  foliage. 
These  features,  he  thought,  added  up  to  an  Itea 
better  for  gardens  in  the  Northeast  than  any 
other  then  available. 

The  plants,  accessioned  as  AA  144-74,  came 
to  the  Arnold  Arboretum  from  the  U.S.  Depart- 
ment of  Agriculture's  Regional  Plant  Introduc- 
tion Station  at  Experiment,  Georgia,  identified 
as  Itea  japonica  Oliv.  and  "Ryushu  226131."  In 
1955  USDA  plant  explorer  John  Creech,  later 
director  of  the  National  Arboretum,  had  col- 
lected six  specimens  of  a compact  form  of  Itea 
japonica  growing  outdoors  at  Hot  Springs  Utili- 
zation Station,  Beppu,  Ryushu,  Japan.  These 
were  subsequently  designated  as  USDA  Plant 
Introduction  226131  and  given  the  notation 
"dwarf."  Eventually  they  were  propagated  and 
distributed  to  a number  of  testing  locations, 
including  the  Arnold  Arboretum.  Thus,  the 
complete  name  of  the  cultivar  designated  by 
Roller  was  I.  japonica  'Beppu'. 

However,  observation  of  the  habit  and  flowers 
of  two  plants  of  Itea,  each  nearly  1.8  meters  (six 


feet)  tall,  growing  side  by  side  in  a private  garden 
in  northern  Virginia  led  us  to  question  the 
species  identification  of  I.  'Beppu'.  One  is 
I.  'Beppu',  the  other  an  unnamed  selection  of 
I.  viiginica  that  was  received  in  a 1980  Arnold 
Arboretum  distribution  of  plants  propagated 
from  a specimen  found  near  Sharpsburg,  Geor- 
gia. These  plants  are  so  similar  in  foliage, 
flower,  fruit,  and  autumn  color  as  to  support 
the  hypothesis  that  they  are  members  of  the 
same  species,  namely  the  North  American 
I.  viiginica,  not  /.  japonica. 

The  generic  name,  Itea  (the  Greek  word  for  wil- 
low) derives  from  a resemblance  of  the  leaves  of 
I.  viiginica  to  those  of  willows.  A member  of  the 
saxifrage  family,  its  common  name  is  sweet- 
spire,  or  Virginia  willow.  Itea  includes  about  ten 
species  of  evergreen  or  deciduous  shrubs  and 
trees  ranging  in  the  wild  from  the  Himalaya 
through  Ghina  to  Japan,  the  Philippines,  and 
western  Malesia,  plus  one  species  in  the  eastern 
United  States  (Mabberley  1989;  Ohwi  1965). 
Valued  for  their  evergreen,  holly-like  leaves,  as 
well  as  for  long,  pendulous  flowers  in  summer, 
the  Ghinese  /.  ilicifolia  and  I.  yunnanensis  are 
cultivated  in  warm  temperate  climates.  The 
only  deciduous  Itea  widely  cultivated  in  North 
America  is  I.  viiginica,  which  includes  the  cul- 
tivars  'Beppu'  and  'Henry's  Garnet'. 

The  native  ranges  of  Itea  species  are  warm- 
temperate  to  tropical;  hence  cold-hardiness 
limits  their  use  as  ornamental  plants  in  the 


Oveileaf:  This  illustration  of  Itea  virginica  from  Curtis's  Botanical  Magazine  (50[1823]:  t.2409)  includes  an 
atypical  trilobed  leaf  and,  on  opened  flowers,  the  “starry”  petal  orientation  sometimes  found  in  the  southern 
United  States.  More  generally,  petal  orientation  is  nearly  erect,  giving  the  inflorescences  a “hottlebiush” 
appearance.  The  branches  bearing  inflorescences  are  usually  arching,  not  upright,  as  depicted  in  this  plate. 


22  Arnoldia  1996  Fall 


K2d:0S 


Itea  23 


northern  United  States.  In  the  wild,  I.  virginica 
thrives  in  moist  soils  on  the  coastal  plain  from 
southern  New  Jersey  to  Florida,  along  the  Gulf 
Coast  to  east  Texas,  and  up  the  Mississippi  val- 
ley to  southern  Illinois.  The  plant  will  survive 
in  the  Boston  area  but  not  without  winterkill 
of  branches.  The  native  habitats  of  1.  japonica 
reach  from  the  southern  part  of  Japan's  Kinki 


district  (including  Mie,  Nara,  and  Wakayama 
prefectures)  on  Flonshu  southwestward  to 
Shikoku  and  Kyushu  (Ohwi  1965).  Thomas 
Everett  (1981)  comments  that  I.  japonica  is 
"probably  hardy  in  sheltered  locations  in  the 
vicinity  of  New  York  City"  but  that  the  ever- 
green I.  ilicifolia  is  not  hardy  north  of  the  Wash- 
ington, DC,  area. 


To  test  our  hypothesis  regarding  the  identification  of  'Beppu',  we  compared  herbarium  specimens  of 
it  with  specimens  of  Itea  japonica  and  I.  virginica  collected  in  the  wild.  The  typical  herbarium  speci- 
men consisted  of  the  terminal  20  to  30  centimeters  (eight  to  twelve  inches)  of  a flowering  branch. 
Because  leaf  size  varies  greatly  on  individual  plants  of  Itea,  we  averaged  the  petiole  (leaf  stalk)  length 
and  the  length  and  width  of  the  lamina  (leaf  blade)  from  the  four  or  five  largest  leaves  on  each  her- 
barium sheet.  Measurements  of  floral  parts  were  also  averaged.  The  tabulation  below  summarizes 
the  typical  sizes  and  shapes  of  the  structures  measured;  the  lower  and  upper  ranges  of  measurements 
have  been  placed  in  parentheses. 


Itea  japonica 

Itea 

virginica 

'Beppu' 

Other 

Leaves 

Petiole  length 

(5-)  7 (-lO)mm 

3 (-7)mm 

3 (-7)mm 

Lamina  length 

(71-)  83  (-95)mm 

(33-)  52  (-65)mm 

(44-)  59  (-81)mm 

Lamina  width 

(31-)  37  (-50)mm 

(13-)  21  (-27)mm 

(13-)  23  (-29)mm 

Lamina  shape 

broadly  lanceolate  to 
elliptic  to  ovate 

elliptic  to 
slightly  obovate 

elliptic  to 
slightly  obovate 

Lamina  apex 

acuminate  to 
long-acuminate 

acute  to 

short-acuminate 

acute  to 

short-acuminate 

Lamina  base 

broadly  cuneate  to 
rounded 

cuneate 

cuneate 

Flowers 

Raceme  width 

(8-)  10mm 

(11-)  14mm 

(13-)  14  (-16)mm 

Calyx  length 

1.2  - 1.4mm 

2.5  - 3.0mm 

2.2  - 3.3mm 

Petal  length 

1.8  - 2.4mm 

(3.5-)  4.2  (-4.8)mm 

(4.3-)  5.2  (-6.2)mm 

Note:  25.4  millimeters  equals  1 inch. 


24  Arnoldia  1996  Fall 


When  English  botanist  Daniel  Oliver 
described /tetJ  japonica  in  1867,  he  indi- 
cated that  smaller  flower  size  distin- 
guishes the  species  I.  japonica:  "The 
petals,  stamens,  and  styles  are  much 
shorter  than  in  1.  virginica.  ” German 
botanist  Camillo  Schneider  later  noted 
that  the  flowers  of  I.  japonica  are 
scarcely  half  as  large  as  those  of  I. 
virginica.  Also  distinguishing  the  spe- 
cies is  the  amount  of  leaf  serration:  the 
leaves  of  I.  japonica  average  five  to 
seven  per  centimeter  while  those  of  I. 
virginica  average  eight  to  ten  near  the 
widest  part  of  the  lamina. 


(1)  Itea  virginica’Beppu’  [labelledl.  japonica  'Beppu’/fS.  Elsik  eF 
L.  Makepeace,  1260,  20  June  1984,  at  map  location  42A-b, 
Arnold  Arboretum,  Jamaica  Plain,  MA  [A] I 


Roller  especially  admired  the  compact- 
ness of  'Beppu'.  The  plant's  siting — in 
dry,  acid  soil  in  full  sun — may  have 
had  something  to  do  with  its  stature. 
Moreover,  this  dryish  moisture  regime 
occurs  in  an  area  well  north  of  the 
climatic  range  native  to  either  Itea 
japonica  or  I.  virginica.  Dr.  Stephen 
Spongberg,  horticultural  taxonomist  at 
the  Arnold  Arboretum,  tells  us  that  I. 
japonica  'Beppu'  "is  only  marginally 
hardy  here  at  the  Arboretum,  and  conse- 
quently it  dies  to  the  ground  each  win- 
ter. However,  each  growing  season  our 
plants  put  on  new  growth  to  about  three 
feet  in  height,  and  they  have  formed  a 
clump  about  four  feet  in  diameter." 

In  contrast,  plants  of  this  clone 
observed  growing  in  the  Washington, 
DC,  area  approach  a height  of  1.8 
meters,  indicating  that  Itea  'Beppu'  is 
hardly  "dwarf."  Nor  do  they  die  back  to 
the  ground  in  winter,  and  unlike  the 
plant  in  famaica  Plain  they  receive  at 
least  some  artificial  watering.  These 
factors  undoubtedly  contribute  to  their 
greater  height. 

On  the  matter  of  autumn  color,  we 
suggest  that  it  undoubtedly  develops 
more  reliably  in  the  Boston  area  than  in 
Washington,  DC,  where  warm  weather 
sometimes  results  in  persistence  of 
green  color  and  leaf  retention  into  early 
winter.  And  that  leaves  us  with  one  last 


(2)  Itea  virginica  (R.  W.  Tyndall  eP  K.  McCarthy,  Maryland 
Natural  Heritage  Program,  87261,  7 June  1987,  Carolina  Bay 
within  5 km  of  Goldsboro,  MD  [NAjj 


(3)  Itea  japonica  (Y.  Tateishi  eP  J.  Murata,  4217,  4 June  1978, 
Japan:  Honshu,  Nara  Prefecture  [NA]) 


DONALD  H VOSS 


Itea  25 


piece  of  the  puzzle:  was  I.  virginica 
growing  in  Japan  in  1955?  Had  it  been 
introduced  prior  to  Dr.  Creech's  collect- 
ing trip?  The  answer  is  yes.  One  of  the 
herbarium  specimens  we  examined  was 
dated  1929,  attesting  to  the  presence  of 
I.  virginica  in  Japan  well  before  the 
introduction  into  the  United  States  of 
USDA  P.I.  226131.  Judging  by  the 
printed  heading  ("Flora  Japonica")  on 
the  label  of  yet  another  herbarium 
specimen,  this  one  dated  1910,  it  too 
was  presumably  collected  in  Japan. 
Indeed,  Dr.  Yotaro  Tsukamoto,  Profes- 
sor Emeritus  of  Kyoto  University, 
believes  that  I.  virginica  may  have  been 
in  Japan  as  early  as  1887. 

That  said,  we  feel  confident  in  con- 
cluding that  USDA  Plant  Introduction 
226131  from  Beppu,  Japan,  is  indeed 
Itea  virginica,  not  I.  japonica,  and  that 
the  Arnold  Arboretum's  'Beppu'  is,  in 
truth,  a clone  of  I.  virginica.  But  we 
note  that,  independent  of  species  asso- 
ciation, this  returned  native  remains 
the  same  attractive  landscape  plant 
with  interesting  flowers,  good  foliage, 
and  fall  color  that  caught  the  attention 
of  both  Dr.  Creech  and  Gary  Koller. 

References 


The  pendent  racemes  of  Itea  virginica  appear  in  midsummer. 


Everett,  Thomas  H.  1981.  The  New  York  Botanical 
Garden  Illustrated  Encyclopedia  of  Horti- 
culture, vol.  6.  NY;  Garland  Publishing. 

Koller,  Gary.  1980.  Itea:  Summer  Flowers  and  Autumn 
Color.  Arnoldia  40(1);  23-29. 

Mabberley,  D.  ].  1989.  The  plant  book,  reprinted  with 
corrections.  NY;  Cambridge  University  Press. 

Ohwi,  fisaburo.  1965.  Flora  of  Japan  (in  English).  Eds.  F. 

G.  Meyer  and  E.  H.  Walker.  Washington,  DC; 
Smithsonian  Institution. 

Oliver,  Daniel.  1867.  [Protologue  for  Itea  japonica  Oliv., 
sp.  nov.]  Journal  of  the  Linnean  Society  IX; 
164. 

Schneider,  C.  1905.  Illustriertes  Handbuch  der 
Laubholzkunde,  vol.  I.  fena;  Gustav  Fischer, 
396-397. 


U.S.  Department  of  Agriculture.  1964.  Plant  inventory 
no.  163;  Plant  material  introduced  fanuary  1 to 
December  31,  1955  (Nos.  222846  to  230876). 
Washington,  DC. 

Acknowledgments 

The  authors  gratefully  acknowledge  Dr.  Frederick 
G.  Meyer's  suggestions  for  emendation  of  the  original 
draft.  They  also  thank  Dr.  S.  A.  Spongberg,  who  read  the 
draft  and  checked  acquisition  records  at  the  Arnold 
Arboretum.  They  are  also  grateful  to  the  curators 
of  herbaria  at  the  Arnold  Arboretum,  Missouri  Botan- 
ical Garden,  and  Smithsonian  Institution  for  their 
cooperation  in  supplying  specimens  used  in  this 
investigation. 


Peter  Mazzeo  is  a botanist,  now  retired  from  the  U.S. 
National  Arboretum  and  residing  in  Winter  Haven, 
Florida.  Donald  Voss  is  a horticulturist  and  a volunteer 
in  the  herbarium  of  the  National  Arboretum. 


R E WEAVER,  )R 


Lives  of  New  England  Gardens:  Book  Review 

"The  Kingdom  of  England  don't  afford  so  Fine  a Prospect  as  I have." 

— Thomas  Hancock  (1702-1764) 


Phyllis  Andersen 


So  Fine  a Prospect:  Historic  New  England  Gar- 
dens. Alan  Emmet.  University  Press  of  New 
England,  1996.  Hardcover,  238  pages,  $45.00 

Regionalism,  as  defined  by  Marc  Treib  in  a 
recent  Dumbarton  Oaks  publication,  is  based 
on  the  interaction  of  geographical,  biological, 
environmental,  and  cultural  factors.  Regional- 
ism in  Treib's  definition  is  a dynamic  entity 
constantly  evolving  and  modifying  garden  form. 
Building  a case  for  regional  identity  on  too 
sweeping  or  static  a construct  can  lead  to  peril- 
ous scholarship.  Alan  Emmet  avoids  this  pitfall 
in  her  admirable  new  book  on  historic  New 
England  gardens  by  her  very  careful  rendering  of 
the  physical  character  of  site  and  the  personal 
visions  of  the  garden  creators.  Certainly  there 
are  themes  in  New  England  gardenmaking: 
Anglophilic  models,  the  need  for  a country  seat 
to  balance  lives  based  in  commerce,  the  valuing 
of  horticultural  pursuits  in  a region  with  a 
rich  nursery  tradition.  In  her  elegant  style 
Emmet  renders  the  life  of  over  fourteen  gar- 
dens— some  our  grand  masterworks:  Wellesley, 
the  Hunnewell  estate,-  Shelburne  Farms,  the 
Webb  family  country  home,  Edith  Wharton's 
The  Mount.  Others,  small,  eccentric:  Potter's 
Grove  in  Arlington,  Massachusetts,-  Roseland 
in  Woodstock,  Connecticut;  Celia  Thaxter's 
garden  on  Appledore  Island.  Of  the  gardens  cov- 
ered, four  are  lost  and  recreated  through  docu- 
mentation, most  are  extant  and  open  to  the 
public  in  some  form  of  preserved  condition,  still 
others  remain  in  private  use. 

Emmet  reflects  on  the  definition  of  "garden" 
and  establishes  her  own:  "The  best  gardens 
convey  this  sense  of  their  own  separateness,  a 
feeling  of  seclusion  and  sanctuary  from  the 
workaday  world.  . . . their  appearance  owes  as 
much  to  what  they  exclude  as  to  what  they  con- 


tain." Like  Olmsted,  Emmet  values  the  garden 
as  prospect  as  well  as  refuge,  albeit  a prospect 
that  is  controlled  and  exclusive.  She  is  precise  in 
her  selection  criteria:  the  garden  must  typify  a 
particular  period  or  exemplify  an  innovation 
and  must  have  a sufficient  written  record.  She 
begins  with  the  gardens  of  the  early  republic  in 
Boston  and  in  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire, 
and  ends  with  Eolia,  the  Harkness  estate  in 
Connecticut,  completed  just  before  World  War  I. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  early  gardens  is 
that  of  the  Boott  family  in  Boston.  In  a chapter 
aptly  titled  "Radishes  and  Orchids,"  Emmet 
describes  the  fascinating  and  sometimes  sad 
saga  of  a family  of  amateur  horticulturists  with 
ties  to  England.  The  Boott  garden  was  located  in 
Bowdoin  Square  on  the  site  of  what  is  now  the 
twenty-two  story  state  office  building  on  Cam- 
bridge Street  in  downtown  Boston.  Kirk  Boott, 
the  founding  father,  marked  his  success  as  an 
importer  of  English  goods  with  a substantial 
mansion  and  attached  greenhouse.  With  an 
amateur's  zeal  he  grew  tender  flowers  and  fruit. 
His  sons  added  orchids  to  the  family  collection. 
Emmet  captures  the  spirit  of  horticultural  com- 
petition that  affected  the  Boott  family  and  that 
was  supported  by  such  role  models  as  Theodore 
Lyman  and  his  estate,  the  Vale,  in  Waltham  and 
Gardiner  Greene  and  his  exquisite  terrace  gar- 
den at  the  foot  of  Beacon  Hill. 

Emmet's  rendering  of  the  "lost  gardens"  is 
poignant  because  their  loss  had  as  much  to  do 
with  the  fickleness  of  the  second  generation  as 
it  had  with  failing  fortunes  and  the  imposition 
of  the  personal  income  tax.  The  ghostly  garden 
traces  of  Vaucluse,  the  classically  inspired  land- 
scape built  by  the  Elam  family  near  Newport, 
Rhode  Island,  owes  much  to  Rousseau's  roman- 
tic, melancholy  retreat  at  Ermenonville.  Several 
families  were  associated  with  Vaucluse,  none 


Geometric  topiary  in  the  Hunnewells’  Italian  garden,  Wellesley,  Massachusetts,  ca.  1870. 


capable  of  sustaining  its  beauty.  Sadder  yet  is 
the  story  of  the  spectacular  "Bellmont,"  the 
117-acre  Cushing  estate  garden  in  Watertown, 
Massachusetts.  Downing  described  it  as  a "resi- 
dence of  more  note  than  any  other  near  Boston" 
on  account  of  its  extensive  range  of  glasshouses 
and  the  "high  culture  of  the  gardens."  The  man- 
sion and  glasshouses  were  designed  hy  Asher 
Benjamin,  but  the  garden  was  designed  for  the 
most  part  hy  its  owner,  John  Cushing,  whose 
fortune  was  made  in  the  opium  trade  in  China. 


Using  a vaguely  Reptonian  model,  Cushing 
focused  on  display:  fruit  trees,  rose  and  flower 
gardens,  fountains.  His  interest  in  technical 
innovation  was  as  strong  as  his  desire  for  plants 
of  rare  and  exotic  origin.  Cushing's  fortune  and 
social  and  business  connections  made  his  gar- 
den the  setting  for  extravagant  entertainments 
for  prestigious  visitors.  Four  years  after 
Cushing's  death  his  sons  sold  the  property  for 
$100,000,  not  because  they  needed  the  money 
but  because  their  interests  were  elsewhere. 


28  Arnoldia  1996  Fall 


Emmet  notes  that  even  today  enormous  trees 
loom  up  in  unexpected  places  in  this  corner  of 
Watertown,  evidence  of  Cushing's  lost  garden. 

In  addition  to  high-style  gardens,  Emmet 
includes  several  that  could  only  he  called  per- 
sonal, highly  individual  to  their  owners/cre- 
ators. Roseland,  the  Gothic  Revival  cottage  and 
garden  of  Henry  Bowen  in  Woodstock,  Con- 
necticut, is  pictured  with  its  resplendent  flower 
parterres  that  were  planted  to  be  at  peak  bloom 
when  Bowen  hosted  a Fourth-of-July  party  of 
huge  proportions.  Roseland,  now  owned  by  the 
Society  for  the  Preservation  of  New  England 
Antiquities,  was  evidence  of  personal  patrio- 
tism and  love  of  small  town  civic  life.  Potter's 
Grove  in  Arlington,  Massachusetts,  was  a three- 
acre  parcel  just  off  the  main  street.  Joseph  Pot- 
ter, an  individual  whose  career  in  commerce 
and  politics  was  as  eclectic  as  his  garden  tastes, 
developed  this  parcel  of  land  as  a private  indul- 
gence in  a personal  rendition  of  the  picturesque. 
The  quirky  assemblage  of  viewing  tower,  classi- 
cal urns,  mini-cascade,  and  a pair  of  dozing  lions 
quickly  attracted  the  public's  interest.  Potter 
encouraged  public  visitation,  especially  photog- 
raphers,- hence  Potter's  Grove,  now  long  gone,  is 
memorialized  through  stereopticon  views. 


Emphatically  in  this  category  of  personal 
creation  is  the  garden  of  Celia  Thaxter  on 
Appledore  Island  in  the  Isles  of  Shoals  off  the 
coast  of  Maine.  This  garden,  well  known  in  its 
day  to  a coterie  of  writers  and  artists  who  gath- 
ered in  cultish  form  around  Thaxter,  is  equally 
popular  today  through  the  reissue  of  her  book. 
An  Island  Garden,  and  its  Childe  Hassam 
watercolor  illustrations. 

Leon  Edel,  the  noted  biographer  of  Henry 
James,  has  noted  that  "no  lives  are  led  outside 
history  or  society."  Emmet  has  produced  a 
series  of  garden  biographies  that  are  as  enlight- 
ening in  their  rendering  of  ideas  about  garden 
design  and  social  history  as  they  are  in  their 
revelations  about  personal  character.  Garden 
creation  is  a messy  business.  Books  are  read, 
friends  give  advice,  travel  inspires  new  ideas, 
plants  die.  Emmet  has  breathed  life  into  archi- 
val documentation  to  produce  a work  of  schol- 
arship that  will  inform  our  garden  visits  as  well 
as  broaden  our  knowledge  of  this  important  seg- 
ment of  New  England  culture. 


Phyllis  Andersen  is  Landscape  Historian  at  the  Arnold 
Arboretum. 


U.S.  POSTAL  SERVICE  STATEMENT  OF  OWNERSHIP,  MANAGEMENT,  AND  CIRCULATION 

(Required  by  39  U.S.C.  3685) 

1.  Publication  Title:  Arnoldia.  2.  Publication  No:  0004-2633.  3.  Filing  Date:  21  November  1996.  4.  Issue  Frequency:  Quarterly.  5.  No  of  Issues 
Published  Annually:  4.  6.  Annual  Subscription  Price:  $20.00  domestic;  $25.00  foreign.  7.  Complete  Mailing  Address  of  Kno-wn  Office  of  Publi- 
cation: Arnold  Arboretum,  125  Arborway,  lamaica  Plain,  Suffolk  County,  MA  02130-3519.  8.  Complete  Mailing  Address  of  Headquarters  of 
General  Business  Office  of  Publisher:  Arnold  Arboretum,  125  Arborway,  Jamaica  Plain,  Suffolk  County,  MA  02130-3519.  9.  Full  Names  and 
Complete  Mailing  Address  of  Publisher,  Editor,  and  Managing  Editor:  Arnold  Arboretum,  125  Arborway,  Jamaica  Plain,  Suffolk  County,  MA 
02130-3519,  publisher;  Karen  Madsen,  Arnold  Arboretum,  125  Arborway,  Jamaica  Plain,  MA  02130-3519,  editor.  10.  Owner:  The  Arnold  Arbo- 
retum of  Harvard  University,  125  Arborway,  Jamaica  Plain,  Suffolk  County,  MA  02130-3519.  11.  Known  Bondholders,  Mortgagees,  and  Other 
Security  Holders  Owning  or  Holding  1 Percent  or  More  of  Total  Amount  of  Bonds,  Mortgages,  or  Other  Securities:  none.  12.  The  purpose,  func- 
tion, and  nonprofit  status  of  this  organization  and  the  exempt  status  for  federal  income  tax  purposes  have  not  changed  during  the  preceding  12 
months.  13.  Publication  Name:  Arnoldia.  14.  Issue  Date  for  Circulation  Data  Below:  Summer  1996.  15.  Extent  and  Nature  of  Circulation,  a. 
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Filing  Date:  4,500.  b.  Paid  and/or  Requested  Circulation.  (1)  Sales  Through  Dealers  and  Carriers,  Street  Vendors,  and  Counter  Sales.  Average 
No.  Copies  Each  Issue  During  Preceding  12  Months:  none.  Actual  No.  Copies  of  Single  Issue  Published  Nearest  to  Piling  Date:  none.  (2|  Paid 
and/or  Requested  Mail  Subscriptions.  Average  No.  Copies  Each  Issue  During  Preceding  12  Months:  3,087.  Actual  No.  Copies  of  Single  Issue 
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Nearest  to  Piling  Date:  394.  g.  Total  Distribution:  Average  No.  Copies  Each  Issue  During  Preceding  12  Months:  3,451.  Actual  No.  Copies  of 
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Total.  Average  No.  Copies  Each  Issue  During  Preceding  12  Months:  4,313.  Actual  No.  Copies  of  Single  Issue  Published  Nearest  to  Piling  Date: 
4,500.  Percent  Paid  and/or  Requested  Circulation.  Average  No.  Copies  Each  Issue  During  Preceding  12  Months:  89%.  Actual  No.  Copies  of  Single 
Issue  Published  Nearest  to  Filing  Date:  89%.  I certify  that  all  information  furnished  on  this  form  is  true  and  complete.  Karen  Madsen,  Editor. 


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PLANTS  OF  CHINA 


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Qinchai  Province.  Nangqcn  Xian;  ca.  ^0  km  oi  in«. 
Nanaqcn  along  the  Xiao-Qu  River  in  Xiao-Long  Gou; 
5-»o]’5-21"N;  96®IR’35”E-  I'levation  4100-4200  m.  Na 
oorge  ihrough  sleep,  limcslone  clifTs.  In  moisl.  overgn 
Terraces  beside  stream.  Growing  with  Pnmula  /imvr. 
CarJamme  miU:ropMla.  Lamiophhmis  and  Uficca  Hi 
Tepals  bright  yellow,  tinged  reddish  abmiially;  anthers 
conspicuous  ncctaric-s:  plants  locally  abundant. 


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HARVARD  UNIVERSITY  HERBARIA 


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amoldh 

Volume  56  Number  4 1996-1997 

Ainoldia  (ISBN  004-2633;  USPS  866-100)  is 
published  quarterly  by  the  Arnold  Arboretum  of 
Harvard  University.  Second-class  postage  paid  at 
Boston,  Massachusetts. 

Subscriptions  are  $20.00  per  calendar  year  domestic, 
$25.00  foreign,  payable  in  advance.  Single  copies  are 
$5.00.  All  remittances  must  be  made  in  U.S.  dollars, 
by  check  drawn  on  a U.S.  bank,  or  by  international 
money  order.  Send  orders,  remittances,  change-of- 
address  notices,  and  all  other  subscription-related 
communications  to:  Circulation  Manager,  Ainoldia, 
The  Arnold  Arboretum,  125  Arborway,  Jamaica  Plain, 
MA  02130-3519.  Telephone  617/524-1718 

Postmaster:  Send  address  changes  to 
Ainoldia  Circulation  Manager 
The  Arnold  Arboretum 
125  Arborway 

Jamaica  Plain,  MA  02130-3519 

Karen  Madsen,  Editoi 

Editoiial  Committee 
Phyllis  Andersen 
Robert  E.  Cook 
Peter  Del  Tredici 
Gary  Roller 
Stephen  A.  Spongberg 

Ainoldia  is  set  in  Trump  Mediaeval  typeface. 

Copyright  © 1996.  The  President  and  Fellows  of 
Harvard  College 


Page 

2 Tree  Rings  and  Ancient  Forest  Relics 
David  W.  Stable 

1 1 Tree  Transplanting  and  Establishment 
Gary  W.  Watson 

17  A Kind  of  Botanic  Mania 
Joan  W.  Goodwin 

25  A Multitude  of  Botanies;  Book  Essay 
Peter  Stevens 

28  Arnold  Arboretum  Weather  Station 
Data — 1996 

29  Index  to  Ainoldia,  Volume  56 

Front  cover:  An  irregular  pattern  in  a radial  section 
of  weathered  wood  from  an  ancient  bristlecone  pine, 
caused  by  the  juncture  of  a large  branch  with  the 
trunk.  Photograph  by  Peter  Del  Tredici 

Back  cover:  Annual  growth  rings — 100  per  inch — in 
the  naturally  weathered  wood  of  an  ancient  specimen 
of  Finns  aiistata,  growing  at  9,000  feet  on  a 
mountaintop  outside  Denver,  Colorado.  There  are 
about  250  growth  rings  in  this  radial  section. 
Photograph  by  Peter  Del  Tredici 

Inside  front  cover:  An  ancient  savanna  at  Yegua 
Creek,  Texas.  These  post  oaks  (Queicus  stellataj  are 
250  to  300  years  old.  Photograph  by  David  W.  Stable 

Inside  back  cover:  Taxodium  distichum  (baldcypress) 
in  the  400-to-600-year  age  class  are  protected  at 
Wakulla  Springs  State  Park,  Florida.  Photograph  by 
David  W.  Stable 


Tree  Rings  and  Ancient  Forest  Relics 


David  W.  Stable 


Centuries-old  trees  persist  in  thousands  of  forest  remnants  across  the 
United  States.  Small  and  weathered,  they  preserve,  in  a fragmentary  pattern, 
one  stratum  of  our  presettlement  forest  ecology  and  biodiversity. 


It  is  widely  believed  that  the  ancient  forests  of 
the  eastern  United  States  have  been  completely 
destroyed  by  successive  waves  of  European 
settlement,  commercial  logging,  agricultural 
development,  and  urban  sprawl.  However,  the 
search  for  presettlement  forests  in  North 
America  by  specialists  in  tree-ring  analysis  has 
produced  surprising  findings.  Tree-ring  research 
suggests  that  literally  thousands  of  ancient 
forests  survive  throughout  the  United  States. 
These  forest  relics  are  often  small  and  unim- 
pressive but  nevertheless  preserve  centuries- 
old  trees. 

Forest  distribution  and  produc- 
tivity in  presettlement  North 
America  was  dictated  by  climate, 
topography,  and  soil  fertility,  and 
included  marginal  stands  as  well 
as  the  majestic.  Marion  Clawson 
has  estimated  that  the  contiguous 
United  States  were  covered  with 
some  950  million  acres  of  forest 
just  prior  to  European  settlement, 
but  that  this  total  included  an 
estimated  100  million  acres  of 
noncommercial  forests.  Dendro- 
chronologists  have  dated  thou- 
sands of  trees  in  more  than 
four-hundred  ancient  forest  sites 
located  in  all  forty-eight  contigu- 
ous states  except  Delaware  and 
Rhode  Island  (Cook  et  al.  1996). 

These  records  of  tree  growth 
extend  hundreds  to  thousands  of 
years  into  prehistory  and  are 
particularly  useful  for  estimating 
past  climate  change.  These  relics 


emphasize  that  the  disturbance  waves  unleashed 
following  European  settlement  were  largely 
driven  by  economic  motives,  and  the  commer- 
cially valuable  stands  of  ancient  timber  were 
indeed  decimated.  For  the  few  surviving 
examples  of  magnificent  marketable  timber,  we 
owe  a debt  of  gratitude  to  individual  landowners 
and  to  the  early  state  and  federal  preserves  such 
as  Adirondack  State  Park  and  Great  Smoky 
Mountains  National  Park.  But  forest  distur- 
bance often  bypassed  stands  of  remarkably  old 
trees  found  on  noncommercial  sites.  These  for- 


This  map  locates  most  of  the  tree-ring  chronologies  developed  from 
ancient  forest  sites  in  the  United  States.  Undisturbed  or  relatively 
undisturbed  ancient  forests  with  trees  dating  from  at  least  A.D.  1 700 
to  1979  were  present  at  most  of  these  locations  at  the  time  of 
sampling  (mainly  from  the  1970s  through  the  1990s),  but  the  size  of 
these  forests  varies  tremendously  from  less  than  one  acre  to 
thousands  of  acres.  The  true  distribution  of  surviving  ancient  forests 
in  the  United  States  is  of  course  much  greater  because  only  a small 
fraction  of  the  ancient  forests  actually  known  have  been  sampled  for 
tree-ring  analysis. 


Tree  Rings  3 


ests,  sometimes  described  as 
"decrepit"  and  "overmature," 
do  not  fit  the  stereotype  of  "the 
forest  primeval"  as  cathedral 
forest  and  have  largely  failed 
to  interest  forest  scientists, 
managers,  or  advocates.  None- 
theless these  are  authentic 
examples  of  one  part  of  the 
primeval  forest  mosaic  and 
deserve  to  endure. 


Tree-Ring  Study  of  Ancient 
American  Forests 


The  exact  age  of  trees  can  be  readily  and  harmlessly  determined  by  using  a 
Swedish  increment  borer  to  extract  a small-diameter  core  from  bark  to  pith 
and  then  carefully  polishing  the  core  to  reveal  the  minute  anatomy  of  the 
annual  growth  rings.  The  author  is  seen  here  coring  a 300-year-old  eastern  red 
cedar  ([uniperus  virginiana)  in  Elk  River,  Kansas.  In  most  cases,  tree-ring  data 
provide  the  best  information  on  the  maximum  longevity  for  tree  species. 


For  nearly  a century,  tree-ring 
experts  have  specialized  in  the 
location  of  ancient  forests  and 
in  the  biological  and  ecological 
processes  that  drive  their 
growth,  longevity,  and  sensitiv- 
ity to  climatic  variations. 

American  work  began  with 
Andrew  E.  Douglass  in  the 
semiarid  Southwest.  Douglass 
discovered  that  the  width  of 
annual  growth  rings  in  living 
Ponderosa  pines  (Pinus  ponder- 
osa)  could  be  synchronized  for 
centuries  across  the  entire 
Colorado  Plateau.  Douglass 
developed  the  technique  of 
crossdating,  the  fundamental 
tool  for  tree-ring  dating.  In 
many  species,  annual  ring 
series  form  unique,  nonre- 
petitive  patterns  of  wide  and 
narrow  rings  that  can  be  com- 
pared and  synchronized  among 
hundreds  of  trees  in  a given 
region.  Using  the  outermost 
ring  in  living  trees  as  the 
known  datum  in  time,  exact 
calendar  years  can  be  assigned 
to  every  cross-synchronized 
growth  ring,  whether  in  living 
or  long-dead  trees. 

Douglass  also  demonstrated  that  climatic 
fluctuations  were  responsible  for  most  of  the 
interannual  variations  in  tree  growth  quantified 
in  these  tree-ring  chronologies.  Today,  tree-ring 


analysis  is  widely  used  to  date  the  construction 
of  ancient  buildings,  prehistoric  volcanic  erup- 
tions and  earthquakes,  to  document  the 
presettlement  fire  ecology  of  forests,  to  recon- 


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4 Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


This  canopy  of  a pondcypiess  (Taxodium  distichum  var.  nutans)  at  Topsail  Hills,  Florida,  typifies  the  flat- 
topped  crowns  reduced  to  a few  heavy,  craggy  limbs  often  found  in  cypress  trees  of  great  age. 


struct  past  climate  fluctuations,  and  to  study 
the  carbon  budget  of  the  earth.  With  a remark- 
able degree  of  precision,  it  can  test  theories  of 
anthropogenic  climate  change. 

It  was  A.  E.  Douglass'  longtime  colleague 
Edmund  Schulman  who  suggested  the  concept 
of  "longevity  under  adversity,"  used  by  dendro- 
chronologists  to  locate  ancient  trees  worldwide. 
He  had  found  that  the  oldest  conifers  tend  to 
grow  under  the  most  adverse  ecological  condi- 
tions, such  as  the  arid  lower  forest  border  in  the 
western  United  States  or  the  cold  windswept 
forests  at  the  subalpine  treeline.  For  instance, 
the  oldest  known  continuously  living  organ- 
isms on  earth,  the  bristlecone  pine  (Finns 
longaeva)  of  California's  Inyo  National  Forest, 
are  found  at  9,000  feet  above  Death  Valley  in  the 
rainshadow  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  one  of  the 
most  hyperarid  forest  sites  on  earth.  The  steep 
dolomite  slopes  receive  an  average  of  only  five 
to  ten  inches  of  precipitation  annually.  Bristle- 
cone  growth  can  be  as  slow  as  one  radial  inch 


per  century  and  individuals  as  old  as  5,000  years 
have  been  identified. 

External  Attributes  of  Ancient  Trees 

Based  on  analysis  of  thousands  of  ancient  trees 
throughout  the  world,  dendrochronologists 
have  described  a suite  of  external  physical 
attributes  often  associated  with  ancient  conifers 
and  hardwoods  (Schulman  1956,  Stable  and 
Hehr  1984,  Swetnam  and  Brown  1992).  Experi- 
enced dendrochronologists  can  often  identify 
ancient  trees  visually  and  can  readily  segregate 
individuals  into  approximate  age  categories. 
These  external  attributes  are  not  precise  or 
infallible,  of  course,  and  microscopic  analysis 
of  the  annual  growth  rings  is  the  only  way  to 
obtain  certain  age  evidence. 

Perhaps  the  most  reliable  attribute  associated 
with  great  age  in  trees  is  a pronounced  longitu- 
dinal twist  to  the  stem,  which  is  also  evident  as 
spiral  grain  in  the  wood  of  ancient  trees.  Other 
attributes  include  crown  dieback  (also  referred 


Tree  Rings  5 


to  as  a spike  top,  stag  top,  or 
dead  top);  a reduced  canopy 
often  restricted  to  a few  heavy, 
craggy  limbs;  branch  stubs  and 
other  bark-covered  knobs  on 
the  stem;  hollow  voids  or  heart 
rot;  partial  exposure  of  massive 
roots  and  root  collar;  leaning 
stems;  heavy  lichen  and  moss 
growth  on  stems;  thin  and 
patchy  bark;  strip  bark  in  coni- 
fers; wind-sculpted  bark  or 
exposed  wood;  flat-topped 
crowns;  fire  or  lightning  scars; 
and  size — not  absolute  size,  but 
size  relative  to  other  trees  of 
the  same  species  growing  on 
similar  sites. 


The  Network  of  Long 
Tree-Ring  Chronologies  in 
the  United  States 


Tree-ring  analysis  demonstrates  that  this  post  oak  near  Keystone  Lake, 
Oklahoma,  began  growth  well  before  1610  and  is  the  oldest  post  oak 
known.  However,  there  are  literally  thousands  of  acres  of  ancient  post 
oak  throughout  the  Cross  Timbers  and  elsewhere  in  the  oak-hickory 
forest,  and  older  individuals  no  doubt  survive. 


On  my  first  collecting  trip  in 
northwest  Arkansas,  I was  sur- 
prised at  how  easily  ancient 
forest  remnants  could  be 
located  in  the  heavily  cutover 
eastern  United  States.  We 
found  250-to-300-year-old  post 
oak  (Quercus  stellata)  domi- 
nating a narrow,  but  largely 
undisturbed  corridor  of  forest 
winding  around  the  dry  upper 
slopes  of  Wedington  Mountain. 

At  first  I believed  that  this  was 
just  a lucky  find,  but  the  hun- 
dreds of  ancient  post  oak  dis- 
coveries we  have  made  since  in 
Arkansas,  Missouri,  southeast- 
ern Kansas,  Oklahoma,  and 
Texas  clearly  demonstrate  that  this  particular 
forest  type  has  often  been  left  uncut. 

Ancient  hardwood  stands  have  been  found  on 
steep  and  dry  upland  sites  throughout  the  east- 
ern deciduous  forest,  among  them  chestnut  oak 
(Quercus  piinusj  along  the  Blue  Ridge  Parkway 
and  white  oak  (Q.  alba)  on  ravine  slopes  near 
the  western  limit  of  upland  deciduous  forests  in 
Illinois  and  Iowa.  A variety  of  ancient  conifers 
have  also  been  found,  including  northern  white 


cedar  (Thuja  occidentalis)  over  1,000  years  old 
on  the  Niagara  Escarpment  and  pitch  pine 
(Pinus  rigida)  up  to  450  years  old  in  the 
Schawangunk  Mountains  only  sixty-five  miles 
from  Manhattan. 

Noncommercial  stands  are  not  restricted  to 
dry  upland  sites;  they  include  an  interesting 
variety  of  bottomland  and  swamp  forests.  Rela- 
tively undisturbed  old-growth  timber  in  the 
East  includes  the  pine  pocosins  of  the  Carolinas, 


DAVID  W STAHLE 


6 Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


This  Pinus  rigida  near  Mohonk  Lake,  New  York,  is  in  the  450-yeai  age 
range  and  is  the  oldest  pitch  pine  yet  discovered. 

the  pitch  pine  hogs  of  New  Jersey,  and  a few 
scattered  northern  white  cedar  hogs  and  wet- 
lands. None  of  these  wetland  forests  support 
particularly  large  trees,  but  some  are  surpris- 
ingly old  and  undisturbed  in  spite  of  their  unim- 
pressive size. 

The  many  baldcypress  (Taxodium  distichum) 
swamps  with  trees  from  500  to  over  1,500  years 


old  are  certainly  among  the 
most  notable  ancient  forests 
left  in  eastern  North  America. 
The  natural  range  of  bald- 
cypress  was  restricted  to  exces- 
sively wet  forests  and  swamps 
in  the  southeastern  United 
States.  This  habitat  contrasts 
vividly  with  the  adverse  upland 
sites  usually  associated  with 
longevity  in  trees,  but  the  spe- 
cific environmental  stresses 
responsible  for  slow  growth  and 
longevity  can  vary  dramatically 
among  species  and  forest  types. 
For  baldcypress  and  other  wet- 
site  species,  these  environmen- 
tal stresses  include  excessive 
moisture  and  acidic,  nutrient- 
poor  swamp  waters. 

Bottomland  hardwood  for- 
ests along  many  southern 
streams  have  also  been  heavily 
exploited  for  timber  and  cleared 
for  farmland,  but  again  not 
all  bottomland  hardwood  spe- 
cies produce  quality  lumber 
and  some  species  tend  to  be 
restricted  to  the  lowest  and 
wettest  positions,  which  are 
poorly  suited  for  agriculture. 
The  best  example  might  be 
overcup  oak  (Quercus  lyrata), 
which  can  achieve  impressive 
size,  but  its  lumber  is  often 
twisted,  defective,  and  prone  to 
rot.  We  have  occasionally  found  200-to-350- 
year-old  overcup  oak  growing  on  slightly  higher 
positions  in  or  adjacent  to  ancient  cypress 
swamps.  Small  tracts  of  marketable  timber  of  a 
variety  of  species  have  also  survived  in  a few 
areas  surrounded  by  noncommercial  forests  or 
rough,  inaccessible  terrain.* 

(continued  on  page  10) 


‘These  can  include  beech  (Fagus  grandifolia),  post  oak,  white  oak,  chestnut  oak,  chinkapin  oak  (Quercus 
muehlenbergii).  blackjack  oak  (Q.  marilandica),  Texas  live  oak  (Q.  virginiana  var.  fusiformis),  shin  oak  (Q. 
mohriana),  overcup  oak,  swamp  chestnut  oak  (Q.  michauxii),  black  gum  (Nyssa  sylvaticaj,  tupelo  gum  (N. 
aquatica),  ashe  juniper  (Juniperus  ashei),  eastern  red  cedar  (J.  virginiana),  pitch  pine  (Pinus  rigida),  table  moun- 
tain pine  (P.  pungens),  jack  pine  (P.  banksiana),  yellow  poplar  (Liriodendron  tulipifera),  eastern  hemlock  (Tsuga 
canadensis),  baldcypress,  and  pondcypress  (Taxodium  distichum  var.  nutans). 


Tree  Rings  7 


A Portfolio  of  Ancient  Trees 


An  ancient  Quercus  stellata  forest  of  the  Ozark  Plateau  drawn  by  Richard  P.  Guyette,  an  accomplished 
artist  and  dendrochronologist.  This  drawing  illustrates  many  of  the  external  attributes  typical  of  ancient 
hardwoods  and  gives  some  impression  of  the  aesthetic  qualities  that  distinguish  these  authentic 
presettlement  forest  survivors.  Richard  has  illustrated  the  details  of  a post  oak-dominated  forest  on  the 
Ozark  Plateau,  including  twisted  stems,  dead  tops  and  branches,  exposed  root  collar,  hollow  voids,  and 
canopies  restricted  to  a few  heavy  muscular  limbs.  Leaning  trees,  branch  stubs,  irregular  bark  texture, 
fire  and  lightning  scars,  and  fallen  logs  in  various  stages  of  decay  are  also  evident. 

These  weathered  relics  are  found  on  steep  slopes  and  poor  soils  broken  by  small  glades  and  picturesque 
blufflines.  Post  oak  tends  to  dominate  these  dry  infertile  positions  in  the  Ozarks,  but  blackjack  oak,  black 
oak,  northern  red  oak,  white  oak,  winged  elm,  white  ash,  bitternut  and  mockernut  hickory,  serviceberry, 
dogwood,  dryland  blueberry,  little  bluestem,  and  a variety  of  mosses  and  lichens  are  variously  present  in 
these  forest  remnants.  Although  stunted  by  the  adverse  environment,  these  noble  post  oak  trees  often 
exceed  300  years  in  age. 


8 Arnoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


Ancient  spike-top  and  strip-bark 
Junipeius  viiginiana  on  a bluffline  in 
the  Missouri  Ozarks  drawn  by  R.  P. 

Guyette.  The  old-growth  attributes 
illustrated  here  are  typical  of  ancient 
Junipeius  trees  worldwide.  The  classic 
spike  top  of  these  red  cedars,  particu- 
larly the  massive  twisted  spike  top  at 
right,  are  virtually  a universal  indicator 
of  old-growth  conifers  and  can  often  he 
identified  from  a considerable  distance. 

Notice  that  this  spike  top  is  free  of  deli- 
cate branching,  which  was  broken  off 
after  years  of  exposure  to  wind,  ice 
storms,  perching  birds,  and  climbing 
animals.  The  mildly  intoxicating  fra- 
grance of  cedarene  can  permeate  these 
bluff-edge  red  cedar,  making  the  collec- 
tion of  tree-ring  samples  from  these 
high  blufflines  a precarious  experience. 

In  strip-bark  trees  only  thin  filaments  of  living  cambium  connect  the  canopy  and  root  systems.  Strip- 
bark  growth  is  a hallmark  of  the  ancient  bristlecone  pine  forest  along  Methuselah  Walk  in  California's 
Inyo  National  Forest  and  is  common  in  many  other  high-elevation  and  drought-stressed  conifers.  How- 
ever, strip-bark  growth  is  not  common  in  old  pines  of  the  eastern  or  southern  United  States 

The  oldest  red  cedars  on  the  Ozark  Plateau  are  often  found  growing  on  rocky  pinnacles  detached  from 
the  main  cliff  escarpment,  where  they  may  have  enjoyed  a measure  of  protection  from  the  occasional 
ground  fires  that  swept  the  hardwood  forest  floor.  The  oldest  red  cedars  are  600  to  over  900  years  old  and 
have  been  found  by  Richard  Guyette  on  dolomite-derived  soils  along  the  Jack's  Fork  and  other  scenic 
streams  in  Missouri.  In  fact,  a number  of  the  oldest  known  trees  of  several  species  have  been  discovered 
on  dolomite  or  gypsum-derived  soils.  Other  very  ancient  dolomite-  or  gypsum-grown  trees  include  bristle- 
cone  pine  at  Methuselah  Walk,  California  (up  to  5,000  years  old);  ancient  Rocky  Mountain  Douglas  fir  at 
Eagle,  Colorado  (up  to  900  years  old);  and  northern  white  cedar  on  the  Niagara  Escarpment,  Ontario  (up 
to  1,000  years  old). 


Tree  Rings  9 


Ancient  Taxodium  distichum  typical  of  blackwater  streams  in  the  Carolinas,  Georgia,  and  Florida,  drawn 
by  R.  R Guyette.  Note  the  blunt  and  bent  silhouette  on  the  stout  cypress  in  the  foreground,  which  would 
be  in  the  800-year  age  class.  The  mature  tree  in  the  middle  distance  on  the  right  would  be  in  the  400-year 
age  class,  and  the  stunted  and  twisted  tree  at  the  right  margin  resembles  a specific  tree  at  Black  River 
that  is  over  1,500  years  old. 

These  nutrient-limited  hlackwater  swamps  are  frequently  dominated  by  slow-growing  baldcypress  in 
an  open  canopy  and  by  Carolina  ash  in  the  understory,  often  to  the  near  exclusion  of  other  species  of  trees 
and  shrubs.  The  canopy  cypress  are  rarely  over  60  feet  tall  or  over  36  inches  in  diameter  above  the 
buttress;  we  have  measured  radial  growth  in  some  ancient  blackwater  cypress  at  less  than  one  inch  per 
century.  The  frequently  broken  main  stem,  flat-topped  crowns,  and  recently  sprouted  fine  branches  on 
the  stem  and  broken  branches  seen  in  the  foreground  all  bear  mute  testimony  to  the  pruning  effects  of 
past  hurricanes  in  these  near-coastal  cypress  swamps. 


10  Arnoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


(continued  from  page  6) 

Ancient  noncommercial  forest  remnants  are 
sometimes  discounted  in  the  debate  over  east- 
ern old  growth  because  they  do  not  answer  our 
desire  for  large  as  well  as  old  trees.  These  relics 
are  not  our  lost  cathedral  forests,  but  they  are 
the  authentic  remains  of  our  oldest  forests;  they 
represent  an  important  part  of  the  presettlement 
forest  mosaic  that  once  graced  eastern  North 
America.  Their  growth  rings  faithfully  record  a 
natural  history  of  the  virgin  forest  and  may  hold 
the  answers  to  questions  of  environmental 
change  we  have  yet  to  pose. 

References  and  Further  Reading 

Clawson,  M.  1979.  Forests  in  the  Long  Sweep  of 
American  History.  Science  204:  1168-1174 

Cook,  E.  R.,  D.  M.  Meko,  D.  W.  Stable,  and  M.  K. 

Cleaveland.  1996.  Tree-Ring  Reconstructions 
of  Past  Drought  Across  the  Coterminus  United 
States:  Tests  of  a Regression  Method  and 
Calibration/Verification  Results.  In  Tree  Rings, 
Environment  and  Humanity:  Proceedings  of 
the  International  Conference  (1994),  ed.  J.  S. 
Dean,  D.  M.  Meko,  T.  W.  Swetnam.  Tucson: 
Radiocarbon.  Dept,  of  Geosciences,  University 
of  Arizona,  155-170. 

Douglass,  A.  E.  1920.  Evidence  of  Climatic  Effects  in  the 
Annual  Rings  of  Trees.  Ecology  1:  24-32. 

Douglass,  A.  E.  1935.  Dating  Pueblo  Bonito  and  Other 
Ruins  of  the  Southwest.  National  Geographic 
Society,  Contributed  Technical  Papers,  Pueblo 
Bonito  Series  1 . 

Douglass,  A.  E.  1941.  Crossdating  in  Dendrochronology. 
Journal  of  Porestry  39:  825-83 1 . 

Schulman,  E.  1954a.  Longevity  Under  Adversity  in 
Conifers.  Science  119:  396-399. 

Schulman,  E.  1954b.  Tree-Rings  and  History  in  the 
Western  United  States.  Economic  Botany  8: 
234-250. 


Schulman,  E.  1956.  Dendroclimatic  Changes  in 
Semiarid  America.  Tucson:  University  of 
Arizona  Press. 

Schulman,  E.  1958.  Bristlecone  Pine  (Pinus  aristata), 
Oldest  Known  Living  Thing.  National 
Geographic  113:  355-372. 

Stable,  D.  W.,  and  J.  G.  Hehr.  1984.  Dendroclimatic 
Relationships  of  Post  Oak  Across  a 
Precipitation  Gradient  in  the  Southcentral 
United  States.  Annals  of  the  Association  of 
American  Geographers  74:  561-573. 

Stable,  D.  W.,  and  M.  K.  Gleaveland.  1992.  Recon- 
struction and  Analysis  of  Spring  Rainfall  Over 
the  Southeastern  U.S.  for  the  Past  1000  Years. 
Bulletin  of  the  American  Meteorological 
Society  73:  1947-1961. 

Stable,  D.  W.,  and  P.  L.  Ghaney.  1994.  A Predictive  Model 
for  the  Location  of  Ancient  Forests.  Natural 
Areas  Journal  14:  151-158. 

Swetnam,  T.  W.,  and  P.  M.  Brown.  1992.  Oldest  Known 
Gonifers  in  the  Southwestern  United  States: 
Temporal  and  Spatial  Patterns  of  Maximum 
Age.  In  Proceedings  of  a Workshop,  Old- 
Growth  Forests  in  the  Southwest  and  Rocky 
Mountain  Regions  (M.  Kaufmann,  W.  Moir, 
and  R.  L.  Bassett,  technical  coordinators).  Ft. 
Gollins,  GO.:  USDA  Forest  Service,  General 
Technical  Report  RM-213,  24-38 

Therrell,  M.  D.  1996.  A Predictive  Model  for  Locating 
Ancient  Forests  in  the  Gross  Timbers  of 
Osage  County,  Oklahoma.  Master's  thesis. 
University  of  Arkansas. 


David  W.  Stable  is  associate  professor  of  geography  and 
director  of  the  Tree-Ring  Laboratory  at  the  University  of 
Arkansas.  He  documented  the  oldest  known  trees  in 
eastern  North  America,  the  baldcypress  at  Black  River, 
North  Carolina,  which  are  over  1,600  years  old. 
Currently  he  is  conducting  tree-ring  research  in  the 
United  States,  Mexico,  and  Africa. 


Tree  Transplanting  and  Establishment 

Gary  W.  Watson 


Both  experience  and  research  make  it  clear  that  almost  any  size  tree  of  any 
species  can  be  transplanted.  Success  depends  on  the  reestablishment  of  a 
normal  spreading  root  system.  An  understanding  of  how  roots  grow  and  take 
up  water  can  aid  the  process,  even  on  difficult  sites. 


Many  aspects  of  transplanting 
change  over  time.  Modern  equip- 
ment has  made  it  possible  to 
transplant  larger  trees  with  "soil 
balls"  more  affordably.  Container- 
ized production  has  grown  in 
popularity  for  many  reasons, 
including  the  ability  to  plant  in 
any  season.  One  thing  remains 
the  same — plants  must  quickly 
establish  or  reestablish  a normal, 
spreading  root  system  on  the  new 
site  to  minimize  susceptibility  to 
stress  and  assure  survival. 

Stress  after  transplanting,  often 
called  transplanting  shock,  is 
caused  primarily  by  drought 
stress.  Field-grown  trees  can  lose 
up  to  95  percent  of  their  roots 
when  they  are  dug  from  the  field. 
This  small  portion  of  the  root 
system  has  difficulty  absorbing 
enough  water  to  meet  the  needs  of 
the  tree.  Plants  grown  in  contain- 
ers are  also  subjected  to  drought 
stress  after  planting,  not  because 
of  root  loss,  but  because  water 
drains  out  of  the  light  soilless  con- 
tainer media  much  faster  after  it  is 
planted  in  the  ground  than  when 
it  was  in  the  pot.  To  compound 
the  problem,  irrigation  is  typically 
less  frequent  than  it  was  in  the 
container  nursery.  All  newly 
planted  trees  will  be  subjected  to 
stress  until  a normal  spreading 
root  system  has  developed. 


When  the  root  ball  is  planted  high  to  improve  drainage,  the  soil 
should  slope  from  the  existing  grade  to  the  top  of  the  root  ball. 


Z 

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12  Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


Planting  Site  Preparation 

Not  every  site  requires  extensive  preparation 
before  planting.  The  soil  in  undisturbed  sites 
and  landscapes  in  older  neighborhoods  is  often 
of  very  good  quality.  Site  preparation  must  be 
more  intensive  on  disturbed  sites  or  sites  with 
naturally  poor  quality  soils.  Soil  conditions  on 
urban  planting  sites  can  be  very  difficult  for  root 
growth. 

Planting  site  preparation  can  provide  an  opti- 
mum environment  for  root  growth  for  only  a 
limited  time.  Considering  that  the  roots  of  a 
tree  can  normally  spread  two  to  three  times  as 
far  as  the  branches,  the  long-term  needs  of  even 
a small  tree  cannot  be  completely  provided  for 
at  planting  time.  Long-term  survival  will 
depend  more  on  selecting  a species  that  will  be 
able  to  survive,  and  thrive,  under  the  existing 
site  conditions. 

Planting  site  preparations  should  focus  on 
providing  the  highest  quality  environment  pos- 
sible for  initial  root  growth  during  the  first  year 
or  two  after  transplanting — possibly  longer  for 
trees  over  4 inches  (10  cm)  in  caliper.  Even  in 
cool  northern  climates,  tree  roots  with  average 
growth  rates  may  extend  3 feet  (1  m)  or  more 
from  the  root  hall  after  two  years.  Though  it 
would  be  desirable  to  prepare  a larger  area,  in 
most  cases  it  would  be  impractical. 

Planting  Hole  Size  and  Shape 
Trees  are  expensive.  Planting  the  tree  properly 
and  maintaining  it  until  it  is  established  will 
protect  the  substantial  investment  in  the  tree. 
To  emphasize  the  need  for  adequate  site  prepa- 
ration, gardeners  often  advocate  preparing  a 
five-dollar  planting  hole  for  every  fifty-cent  tree. 

The  primary  objective  of  planting  site  prepa- 
ration is  to  provide  a quantity  of  backfill  soil 
that  promotes  rapid  initial  root  development 
and  does  not  restrict  root  spread  heyond  the 
planting  hole.  Ideally,  these  objectives  should  be 
achieved  with  a minimum  of  cost  and  effort.  To 
prevent  settling,  the  root  ball  must  be  supported 
by  undisturbed  soil.  Since  most  new  roots  will 
grow  horizontally  from  the  sides  of  the  root  ball, 
compacted  soil  at  the  bottom  will  not  substan- 
tially affect  overall  root  growth. 

When  a deeper  planting  hole  is  not  an  option, 
widening  the  planting  hole  is  the  only  way  to 


increase  its  size.  Most  tree  roots  are  concen- 
trated within  the  top  foot  of  soil.  Since  the  most 
vigorous  root  growth  is  likely  to  occur  near  the 
surface,  efforts  should  be  concentrated  there.  In 
many  compacted  urban  soils,  root  growth  from 
the  bottom  half  of  a 12-to-18-inch  (30-45  cm) 
deep  root  ball  will  be  inhibited  by  inadequate 
drainage  and  aeration.  In  these  soil  conditions, 
a wide  hole  for  the  entire  depth  of  the  root  ball 
may  not  be  as  useful  or  efficient  as  a hole  with 
sloped,  or  stepped,  sides.  With  this  configura- 
tion, the  majority  of  the  effort  is  directed 
towards  surface  soils  where  the  new  roots  will 
grow  most  vigorously.  A hole  with  sloped  sides 
will  not  restrict  root  spread.  Deeper  roots  will 
grow  towards  the  surface  soils  and  continue  to 
spread  if  they  are  unable  to  grow  into  the  com- 
pacted subsoil  (Figure  1). 

A planting  hole  that  is  two  to  three  times  the 
width  of  the  root  ball  at  the  surface,  with  sides 
sloping  towards  the  base  of  the  root  ball,  is  opti- 
mum for  most  situations.  The  root  ball  can  hold 
less  than  5 percent  of  the  original  root  system. 
A hole  only  25  percent  greater  in  diameter  than 
the  root  ball  will  allow  the  root  system  to  reach 
less  than  10  percent  of  its  original  size  before 
poor-quality  site  soils  slow  root  growth.  A hole 
three  times  the  width  of  the  root  ball  with 
sloped  sides  will  allow  the  root  system  to  grow 
rapidly  to  25  percent  of  its  original  size  before 
being  slowed  by  the  poorer  quality  site  soil.  The 
well-aerated  surface  soil  is  increased  up  to  ten- 
fold by  the  wide,  shallow  configuration.  This 
increased  volume  of  high  quality  backfill  soil 
promotes  rapid  root  growth  and  will  make  the 
tree  less  subject  to  severe  drought  stress  than 
the  tree  in  a smaller  hole.  Trees  transplanted 
with  a tree  spade  also  benefit  from  a larger 
planting  hole.  The  tree  spade's  metal  blades  dig 
cone-shaped  holes  whether  extracting  a tree  or 
creating  its  new  home.  In  this  situation,  cultiva- 
tion around  the  root  ball  after  planting  may  be 
the  only  practical  method. 

Backfill  Soil  Modifications 
The  change  in  soil  type  at  the  interface  between 
backfill  soil  and  the  surrounding  undisturbed 
soil  is  often  blamed  for  poor  root  development 
in  the  undisturbed  soil,  but  this  stems  from  a 
confusion  between  inability  of  roots  to  cross  the 


Transplanting  13 


To  Stabilize 
Root  Ball 

, lA'if 

Compacted — 
Subsoil  Pi 


3 Times  Root  Ball  Diameter 


Figure  1.  Where  roots  have  difficulty  penetrating  compacted  site  soils,  sloped  sides  allow  roots  to  continue  to 
grow  vigorously  towards  the  better  soils  near  the  surface.  Roots  that  do  penetrate  the  site  soil  along  the  sloping 
interface  will  probably  grow  more  slowly. 


1/3  Root  Ball 
Above  Grade 

To  Stabilize 
Root  Ball 

Compacted 

Subsoil 


3 Times  Root  Ball  Diameter 


Figure  2.  Planting  the  root  ball  so  that  approximately  one-third  of  it  is  above  grade  can  help  to  provide  better 
drainage  and  aeration  for  roots. 


interface  and  inability  of  roots  to  grow  vigor- 
ously in  the  soil  material  on  the  other  side. 
While  the  interface  can  have  a major  effect  on 
soil  water  movement,  it  usually  does  not  affect 
roots.  If  the  backfill  soil  has  been  amended,  the 
abrupt  change  in  soil  texture  can  affect  soil 
properties  such  as  water  movement  but  prob- 
ably not  root  growth. 

When  three  types  of  backfill  soils  were  used 
on  a compacted  urban  planting  site,  including 
unamended  soil,  there  was  no  difference  in  root 
development  in  any  of  the  backfills.  (Note  that 
unamended  soil  is  not  the  same  as  unaltered 
soil.)  Root  development  in  the  soils  outside  of 
the  planting  hole  was  lower  than  in  any  of  the 
backfill  soils,  but  this  appeared  to  be  due  to 
the  overall  reduced  root  growth  in  the  com- 
pacted clay  site  soil,  rather  than  an  inability  of 
the  roots  to  grow  across  the  interface  between 
the  soils. 

On  moderate  sites,  amending  the  soil  may  be 
unnecessary,  but  not  harmful.  On  extremely 


poor  quality  sites,  soil  amendments  may  be 
more  important,  but  still  probably  not  as  impor- 
tant as  digging  a large  planting  hole. 

Drainage 

Adequate  drainage  from  the  bottom  of  the  plant- 
ing hole  is  very  important  for  root  regeneration. 
Gravel  in  the  bottom  of  the  planting  hole  can 
make  drainage  worse.  Water  will  not  move  from 
the  finer  textured  soil  above  to  the  layer  of 
coarse  gravel  below  until  the  fine-textured  soil 
is  completely  saturated.  This  results  in  water- 
logged soil  above  the  gravel. 

Drainage  tubing  may  be  used  to  drain  water 
from  the  bottom  of  the  planting  hole  if  the 
water  can  be  discharged  at  a lower  level  nearby. 
Planting  with  the  top  of  the  root  ball  slightly 
above  grade  can  also  increase  survival  on  poorly 
drained  sites.  No  more  than  one-third  of  the 
root  ball  should  be  above  grade,  and  the  soil 
should  be  gradually  sloped  between  the  top  of 
the  root  ball  and  the  original  grade  (Figure  2). 


14  Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


Establishment  After  Transplanting 

The  establishment  period  can  be  defined  as 
the  period  required  for  a plant  to  grow  a normal 
root  system.  During  this  period  the  plant  is  sus- 
ceptible to  extreme  stress.  The  length  of  the 
establishment  period  is  affected  by  many  envi- 
ronmental and  cultural  factors.  Growth  rate 
also  provides  an  indication  of  stress  (Figure  3). 
Growth  will  slow  immediately  after  transplant- 
ing and  recover  to  pre-transplanting  levels  as  the 
root  system  regenerates  and  stress  is  reduced. 

Plant  growth  is  always  limited  by  some- 
thing— temperature,  light,  nutrients,  genetics — 
but  after  transplanting,  water  is  usually  the 
most  limiting  factor.  Transplanted  trees  rely 
heavily  on  moisture  in  the  root  ball  through- 
out the  first  growing  season.  For  balled-and- 
burlapped  trees,  the  moisture  contained  within 
the  root  ball  represents  only  a small  fraction  of 
the  water  that  was  available  to  the  tree  before 
transplanting,  and  it  is  small  relative  to  the 
transpiration  demands  of  the  tree.  Root  ball  soil 
moisture  can  be  depleted  very  quickly,  even 
while  backfill  soil  just  outside  the  root  ball 


stays  very  moist,  because  there  are  few  roots  to 
absorb  the  water  there.  The  water  from  the 
backfill  soils  is  not  able  to  move  into  the  root 
ball  quickly  enough  to  effectively  replace  what 
is  being  removed  by  the  tree.  Just  two  days  after 
watering,  the  root  ball  soil  can  become  dry 
enough  to  stop  new  root  growth  and  to  reduce 
the  capacity  of  the  existing  root  tips  to  absorb 
water.  (In  experiments  with  trees  of  two-inch 
caliper  transplanted  into  backfill  soil,  it  took 
four  to  five  months  to  develop  roots  just  outside 
the  root  ball  that  were  sufficiently  dense  to 
allow  significant  amounts  of  soil  moisture.)  It 
may  take  several  days  for  growth  to  resume 
after  watering.  With  frequent,  repeated  soil  dry- 
ing, root  growth  may  be  halted  for  long  periods. 

Galculating  the  amount  of  water  held  in  the 
root  zone  in  relation  to  usage  by  the  plant  is 
another  way  to  estimate  the  water  needs  of  new 
plantings.  The  supply  of  soil  moisture  available 
to  the  expanding  root  system  of  a recently 
planted  shrub  increases  more  rapidly  than  does 
water  use  by  the  slower  growing  crown. 
Twenty-one  weeks  after  planting,  the  soil  water 


Years  After  Transplanting 


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0 

0 

Q. 

> 

DJ 

ZJ 

3 

CO 

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T3 

0) 

D 

H 

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(Q 

(Q 

J3 

Q 

0) 

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Figure  3.  Root  loss  as  a result  of  transplanting  causes  a corresponding  decrease  in  twig  growth.  Recovery  of 
twig  growth  rate  is  closely  related  to  regeneration  of  the  root  system. 


Transplanting  15 


Figure  4.  Trunk  sections  of  transplanted  spruces  (Picea  sp.)  show  that  growth  of  the  larger  transplanted  tree 
(size  at  the  time  of  transplanting  is  shown  by  the  circle)  is  slowed  for  several  years,  while  normal  growth  of 
the  smaller  tree  resumes  more  quickly.  By  the  time  both  of  the  trees  are  established,  the  relative  size  of  the 
two  trees  may  be  equal  or  reversed. 


supply  of  small  shrubs  was  only  eleven  days. 
Two-inch  caliper  trees  may  require  two  growing 
seasons  before  attaining  a large  enough  root  sys- 
tem for  a similar  soil  water  supply. 

Duration  of  Transplanting  Stress 

To  be  considered  fully  established  after  trans- 
planting, the  tree  must  develop  a full  root  sys- 
tem on  the  new  site.  The  partial  root  system  in 
the  root  ball,  or  the  confined  root  system  of  the 
container,  must  develop  into  a normal  spreading 
root  system  that  can  utilize  soil  moisture  and 
nutrient  resources  from  a large  soil  volume. 
This  will  take  several  years. 

Root  establishment  takes  longer  for  large 
trees  than  for  small  trees.  When  standard  speci- 
fications are  followed,  the  size  of  the  root  ball  or 
container  is  proportional  to  the  size  of  the  plant. 
Regardless  of  size,  the  root  ball  holds  only  this 
same  small  percentage  (4  to  18)  of  the  root  sys- 
tem. The  root  system  in  container  plants  is  like- 


wise confined  to  a proportionately  small  soil 
volume.  Moreover,  root  growth  rates  are  similar 
for  large  and  small  trees.  What  is  very  different 
is  the  distance  that  roots  must  grow  to  develop 
the  full  spreading  root  system  necessary  for 
complete  establishment.  A smaller  tree  requires 
fewer  increments  in  annual  root  growth  after 
transplanting  than  a large  tree  in  order  to 
replace  the  original  root  system.  Since  the 
smaller  tree  recovers  vigor  faster,  it  may  one  day 
be  nearly  the  same  size  as  a larger  tree  trans- 
planted at  the  same  time  (Figure  4). 

Soil  temperature  also  affects  root  growth  after 
transplanting.  In  climates  where  the  soils  are 
warm  year  round,  roots  will  grow  faster  and 
plants  will  become  established  sooner.  In 
the  north  temperate  climate  of  the  upper 
midwestern  United  States,  twig  growth  of  a 
four-inch  caliper  tree  is  reduced  for  four  years 
after  transplanting.  In  other  words,  the  estab- 
lishment period  is  approximately  one  year  per 


16  Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


caliper  inch.  In  the  subtropical  climate  of  north- 
ern Florida,  where  roots  grow  much  faster,  trees 
reestablish  at  a rate  of  approximately  three 
months  per  caliper  inch. 

During  the  second  half  of  the  establishment 
period,  stress  may  not  be  as  apparent.  Neverthe- 
less, the  reduction  in  growth  can  be  measured. 
At  this  time,  monitoring  should  be  continued, 
but  it  may  be  possible  to  limit  supplemental 
watering  to  periods  of  drought. 

Comparisons  Among  Growing  Methods 
Researchers  have  compared  the  establishment 
of  traditional  field-grown  trees  with  conven- 
tional root  balls  to  that  of  container-grown  trees 
and  of  trees  grown  in  in-ground  fabric  bags. 
Based  on  data  on  water  stress,  trees  that  were 
transplanted  from  field  soil  or  from  fabric  bags 
establish  more  quickly  than  trees  planted  from 
plastic  containers.  Container  plants  were 
smaller  and  sustained  very  little  root  loss  at 
transplanting  and  yet  took  longer  to  establish. 
Although  measurable,  the  differences  were  not 
great  enough  to  warrant  avoiding  container- 
grown  plants.  Adequate  irrigation  will  easily 
overcome  the  difference,  and  container  plants 
have  many  other  advantages.  The  need  for  regu- 
lar watering  of  all  trees  cannot  be  overempha- 
sized. As  long  as  the  roots  stay  primarily 
confined  to  the  root  ball  soil,  they  will  be  sus- 
ceptible to  rapid  drying  when  irrigation  or  rain- 
fall is  absent  for  even  a short  period. 

Both  periodic  and  chronic  stress  can  reduce 
growth  in  any  plant.  If  a high  level  of  care  and  a 
consistent  environment  is  maintained  above 
and  below  ground,  the  plant  will  establish 
faster.  Water  stress  reduces  photosynthesis  and 
root  growth  and  also  increases  susceptibility  to 
certain  disease  and  insect  problems.  Adequate 
site  preparation  and  judicious  watering  through- 
out the  growing  season  will  do  more  to  assure 


survival  and  maximize  vigor  than  anything  else, 
with  the  possible  exception  of  high-quality,  site- 
appropriate  plant  material. 

The  successful  establishment  of  transplanted 
trees  is  dependent  primarily  on  the  reestablish- 
ment of  a normal  spreading  root  system  on  the 
new  site.  This  process  can  be  slowed  by  inad- 
equate site  preparation  and  difficult  sites.  Root 
growth  is  naturally  slower  in  colder  climates. 
Larger  trees  have  larger  root  systems  and  take 
longer  to  regenerate  after  transplanting.  Both 
experience  and  research  make  it  clear  that 
almost  any  size  tree  of  any  species  can  be  trans- 
planted. Large  and  small  trees  transplanted  at 
the  same  time  may  eventually  be  similar  in  size. 
The  choice  may  depend  on  size  of  budget  and 
willingness  to  wait  for  a small  tree  to  grow. 

For  Further  Reading 

Barnett,  D.  1986.  Root  growth  and  water  use  by  newly 
transplanted  woody  landscape  plants.  Public 
Garden  1;  23-25. 

Beeson,  R.  C.,  and  E.  F.  Gilman.  1992.  Diurnal  water 
stress  during  landscape  establishment  of  slash 
pine  differs  among  three  production  methods. 
Journal  of  Arboriculture  18;  281-287. 

Watson,  G.  W,  and  G.  Kupkowski.  1991.  Soil  moisture 
uptake  by  green  ash  trees  after  transplanting. 
Journal  of  Environmental  Horticulture  9:  226- 
227. 

Watson,  G.  W.,  G.  Kupkowski,  and  K.  G.  von  der 
Heide-Spravka.  1992.  The  effect  of  backfill 
soil  texture  and  planting  hole  shape  on 
root  regeneration  of  transplanted  green  ash. 
Journal  of  Arboriculture  18:  130-135. 


Gary  Watson  is  Root  System  Biologist  at  The  Morton 
Arboretum  in  Lisle,  Illinois.  His  book  Transplanting 
Trees  will  be  published  later  this  year  by  the 
International  Society  of  Arboriculture. 


Karen  Madsen 


Tne  Arnold  Arnoretum 


E R 


NEWS 


1 9 9 6 - 1 9 9 7 


Spongberg  Is  Awarded  the  RHS  Gold  Veitch  Memorial  Medal 

Sheila  Connor,  Horticultural  Research  Archivist 


Stephen  A.  Spongberg,  Arbore- 
tum horticultural  taxonomist, 
recently  traveled  to  London  to 
receive  the  Gold  Veitch  Memorial 
Medal,  one  of  the  foremost  honors 
of  the  horticultural  world.  Recipi- 
ents of  the  medal  are  selected  by 
England’s  Royal  Horticultural 
Society  for  their  outstanding  con- 
tributions to  the  field  and  are 
deemed  “persons  who  have  helped 
the  advancement  of  the  science 
and  practice  of  horticulture.” 
Presented  annually  since  1873, 
the  medal  commemorates  James 
Veitch  (1792—1869)  of  the  famous 
and  influential  family  of  British 
nurserymen. 

By  all  accounts,  the  man  who 
inspired  the  award  was  not  only  a 
skilled  plantsman  and  accom- 
plished cultivator  but  a generous 
supporter  of  horticultural  chari- 
ties. In  fact,  a medal  was  selected 
• continued  on  page  2 


Celebrating  125  Years  of  Discovery 

Mark  these  events  on  your  calendar  and  join  Arboretum  staff  and 
friends  for  our  125th  anniversary  celebration. 

Yesterday,  Today,  and  Tomorrow 
Bonsai  at  the  Arnold  Arboretum 
An  artistic  display  of  three  eras  of  Arboretum  bonsai  at 
the  New  England  Spring  Flower  Show 
March  8 through  16,  1997 — Bayside  Exposition  Center,  Boston 

Harvard  University  Herbaria  Open  House 
A rare  behind-the-scenes  view  of  the  work  of  Herbaria  staff  in 
the  areas  of  plant  collection,  scientific  research,  and  biodiversity 
conservation,  highlighting  the  historic  and  current  significance 
of  the  University’s  botanical  collections 
Thursday,  May  8,  1997 — Harvard  University  Herbaria,  Cambridge 

Lilac  Sunday 

An  Arboretum  tradition  celebrating  one  of  North  America’s 
premier  lilac  collections 

Sunday,  May  18,  1997 — Arnold  Arboretum,  Jamaica  Plain 

Annual  Fall  Plant  Sale 

Our  most  popular  evenr  for  members,  this  year  featuring  a new 
plant  introduction — Syringa  x chinensis  ‘Lilac  Sunday’ 
Sunday,  September  21,  1997 — Case  Estates,  Weston 

Arboretum  Open  House  & Lecture 
Tour  the  Hunnewell  Building,  view  our  new  exhibit,  meet  the 
staff,  and  join  us  for  a lecture  by  renowned  British  plant  hunter, 
horticulturist,  and  author  Roy  Lancaster 
Friday,  October  17,  1997 — Arnold  Arboretum,  J amaica  P lain 


Karea  Madsen 


• from  page  1 

as  a suitable  memorial  to  Veitch 
only  after  the  Society’s  subscribers 
had  considered — and  subsequently 
rejected — the  establishment  of  a 
club,  an  almshouse,  and  pensions 
for  either  disabled  plant  collectors 
or  for  aged  gardeners.  However, 
James  Veitch  was  also  an  astute 
and  venturesome  businessman. 
Fiercely  competitive  in  the  arena 
of  plant  introduction,  under  his 
aegis  the  nursery  of  Messrs.  James 
Veitch  & Sons  rose  to  prominence 
by  being  one  of  the  first  commer- 
cial enterprises  to  compete  with 
royalty  and  learned  societies  in 
the  sponsorship  of  far-off  plant- 
hunting expeditions. 

While  the  Veitch  medal  is  the 
highest  accolade  that  the  Royal 
Horticultural  Society  bestows  on  a 
foreign  national,  half  a century 
would  elapse  after  its  inception 
before  the  medal  would  first  cross 
the  Atlantic.  With  Steve’s  recent 
honor  he  has  joined  a very  exclu- 
sive group — to  date  only  fifteen 
medals  have  gone  to  North 
Americans  with  Steve  being  the 
fourth  member  of  the  Arboretum 
staff  to  be  so  honored. 

In  1926,  the  Arboretum's 
himous  plant  explorer  Ernest 
Henry  "Chinese”  Wilson,  then  a 
British  subject,  received  the 
Veitch  medal  inscribed  for  "his 


introductions  to  gardens  and  his 
books.”  On  that  occasion,  newspa- 
per accounts  exclaimed,  “British 
Award  Won  by  Boston  Horticul- 
turist . . . This  medal  has  never 
before  been  given  to  any  person  in 
America!”  Almost  twenty  years 
later,  when  the  second  Arboretum 
recipient  William  H.  Judd,  born 
in  England  but  a naturalized 
American  citizen,  received  the 
medal  for  “exceptional  work  in 
propagation,”  he  wrote  in  his  jour- 
nal, “I  believe  that  this  is  the  first 
time  by  any  man  other  than 
English  to  receive  it.”  Donald 
Wyman,  horticulturist 
extraordinaire,  but  with  no  obvi- 
ous British  ties,  accepted  the  cov- 
eted award  “for  his  contribution 
to  the  science,  to  the  practice,  and 
to  the  literature  of  horticulture” 
upon  his  retirement  from  the 
Arboretum  in  1969. 

While  Steve  has  won  the  medal 
for  his  “major  contribution  to  hor- 
ticultural taxonomy  at  an  interna- 
tional level,”  he  could  have  easily 
been  recognized,  like  Wilson,  for 
his  plant  exploration  in  China. 
Steve  has  participated  in  several 
plant-collecting  expeditions  to 
eastern  Asia  and  was  a member  of 
the  U.S.  team  of  botanists  who 
took  part  in  the  1980  Sino-Ameri- 
can  Botanical  Expedition  to  west- 
ern Hubei  Province  in  the 


People’s  Republic  of  China,  the 
first  cooperative  venture  between 
Chinese  and  American  scientists 
after  China  opened  its  doors  to  the 
West  in  the  late  1970s.  The  Arbo- 
retum’s collections  and  American 
gardens  have  been  made  richer 
through  the  introduction  of  Mag- 
nolia zenii,  Heptacodium  miconioides, 
and  Sorbus  yiiana,  among  other 
new  plants  collected  during  the 
1980  expedition.  Or  like  Wilson 
and  Wyman,  Steve  might  have 
been  recognized  for  his  contribu- 
tions to  the  field  of  horticultural 
and  botanical  literature.  He  has 
written  many  articles  both  popular 
and  scientific  on  north  temperate 
woody  plants,  and  his  acclaimed 
book  on  the  introduction  of  orna- 
mental plants  into  North  Ameri- 
can and  European  landscapes,  A 
Reunion  of  Trees,  has  become  the 
standard  on  the  history  of  plant 
exploration.  On  a more  personal 
level,  Steve  is  valued  by  his  col- 
leagues here  at  the  Arboretum  for 
the  scholarship,  dedication,  and 
love  he  brings  to  the  herbarium, 
library,  and  living  collections.  We 
join  in  congratulations  with  Roy 
Lancaster  who  has  written  to 
Steve,  “Welcome  to  the  club,  one 
of  the  horticultural  world’s  most 
exclusive.  I’m  sure  E.  H.  Wilson 
and  all  those  other  luminaries  will 
be  smiling  up  there.” 


Living  Collections  Apprentice  Arrives 


Alistair  Yeomans  has  joined  the 
staff  as  Arboretum  apprentice.  A 
native  of  western  Scotland  with  a 
bachelor’s  degree  in  horticulture 
from  Strathclyde  University, 
Alistair  specializes  in  pathology. 
In  research  on  Botrytis  cinerea,  a 
corrimon  mold  that  is  destructive 
to  plants,  he  tested  the  effective- 
ness of  Dichlofluanid,  an  ingredi- 
ent in  various  commercial 


treatments  for  the  disease. 

Alistair  will  be  working  with 
all  the  units  of  the  living  collec- 
tions department  for  a well- 
rounded  view  of  the  maintenance 
of  a scientific  collection  of  woody 
plants.  During  his  year  here  he’ll 
study  the  broad  range  of  host- 
pathogen  interactions  that  a 
collection  like  the  Arboretum’s 
can  provide. 


2 


WINTER  1996-1997 


Karen  Madsen 


IMLS  Conservation  Grant  for  Shrub  and  Vine  Review 


With  the  recent  award  of  an 
Institute  of  Museum  and  Library 
Services  conservation  grant,  the 
Arboretum  began  the  first  step  in 
a long-range  plan  to  develop  a 
special,  synoptic  shrub  and  vine 
collection  to  be  located  near  the 
Dana  Greenhouses.  The  IMLS,  a 
federal  agency  that  strengthens 
museums  to  benefit  the  public, 
has  provided  funding  for  a com- 
plete curatorial  review  of  the 
Arboretum’s  shrub  and  woody 
vine  collections  over  the  course  of 
calendar  year  1997.  Under  the 
supervision  of  horticultural  tax- 
onomist Stephen  Spongberg,  each 
shrub  and  woody  vine  accession  in 


the  Arboretum’s  living  collections 
will  be  individually  inspected  and 
evaluated,  and  observations  will  be 
recorded  in  the  Arboretum’s  living 
collections  database  (BG-BASE). 

For  verification  of  each 
accession’s  identity,  existing 
voucher  specimens  will  be  located 
in  the  herbarium  and,  if  necessary, 
added  to  the  curatorial  database; 
missing  herbarium  specimens  will 
be  made  as  required.  Lists  of  spe- 
cies needed  for  the  collections  will 
also  be  developed,  map  locations 
verified  for  accuracy,  and  candi- 
dates for  repropagation  identified. 
In  the  long  term,  the  results  of 
this  survey  will  ensure  that  the 


Arboretum’s  collections  of  shrubs 
and  woody  climbers  will  both  be 
accurately  identified  and  compre- 
hensive and  that  attention  will  be 
given  to  the  cultural  requirements 
of  these  accessions. 

Joining  Steve  Spongberg  in 
this  team  effort  are  Andrew  C. 
Bell,  curatorial  associate;  Susan 
Kelley,  curatorial  associate  for 
mapping  and  labeling;  Kyle  Port, 
curatorial  assistant  for  plant 
records;  and  Patrick  Willoughby, 
grounds  superintendent.  Addi- 
tional support  will  be  provided  by 
volunteers  Sheila  Magullion  and 
Robert  Reynolds  and  this 
summer’s  horticultural  interns. 


Curatorial  Associate  Rejoins  Staff 

Andrew  C.  Bell  has  returned  to 
the  Arnold  Arboretum  for  a third 
time  to  join  the  curatorial  staff  in 
its  IMLS-supported  survey  of  the 
shrub  and  vine  collections.  Andy 
served  his  first  stint  as  a horticul- 
tural intern  in  1994,  helping  with 
mapping  and  labeling  in  the  cura- 
torial office.  Following  graduation 
with  a bachelor’s  degree  in  orna- 
mental horticulture  and  botany 
from  the  University  of  Tennessee 
in  1995,  he  returned  for  another 
summer,  as  a Putnam  Fellow 


assisting  Stephen  Spongberg  in 
his  taxonomic  research. 

This  time  Andy  returns 
after  having  completed  a one-year 
program  for  the  master’s  degree 
in  science  at  the  University  of 
Edinburgh  and  the  Royal  Botanic 
Garden,  Edinburgh.  While  his 
plans  for  the  future  after  this  year 
at  the  Arboretum  are  yet  to  be 
finalized,  they  do  focus  on  plants 
(particularly  woody  plants)  and 
either  further  graduate  study  or 
work  at  a botanical  institution. 


Arboretum  Collaborations 


Peter  Del  Tredici,  director  of  the 
living  collections,  recently  pre- 
sented a program  at  the  Boston 
Museum  of  Science  on  Leonardo 
Da  Vinci’s  contributions  to 
botany.  His  lecture  was  part  of  a 
series  presented  to  the  docents 
who  will  be  interpreting  the 
museum’s  new  exhibit  on 
Leonardo  Da  Vinci  to  visitors. 
Peter  pointed  out  that  Leonardo 


was  interested  in  more  than  just 
the  accurate  depiction  of  nature — 
he  was  concerned  with  how  struc- 
ture and  function  were 
interrelated,  and  he  was  a master 
of  deducing  function  from  careful 
observation  of  structure. 

The  Arboretum  was  a co-sponsor 
of  this  year’s  New  England 
Grows,  the  Northeast’s  largest 


green  industry  trade  show,  which 
brings  together  thousands  of  par- 
ticipants from  the  nursery,  land- 
scape, and  garden  design 
professions.  Staff  members  Peter 
Del  Tredici  and  Tom  Ward, 
greenhouse  manager,  presented 
programs  on  plant  collecting  in 
China  and  viburnums,  respec- 
tively. During  the  course  of  the 

• • continued  on  page  4 


ARNOLD  ARBORETUM  NEWS  • 3 


• • from  page  3 

show  the  Arboretum  distributed 
more  than  1,000  complimentary 
back  issues  of  Arnoldia  and 
answered  numerous  questions 
about  Arboretum  projects  and 
programs. 

Stephen  Spongberg,  Arboretum 
horticultural  taxonomist,  hosted  a 
mini-symposium  on  taxonomic 
problems  in  the  Maloideae,  a sub- 
family of  the  Rosaceae.  It  was  held 
at  the  Harvard  University  Her- 
baria in  conjunction  with  the 
Flora  of  China  translation  project, 
which  operates  out  of  the  Mis- 
souri Botanical  Garden.  HUH 
houses  one  of  the  Flora’s  editorial 
centers,  which  is  coordinated  by 
David  E.  Boufford,  assistant  direc- 
tor for  herbaria  collections.  The 
project  will  publish  the  first  mod- 
ern English-language  account  of 
the  vascular  plants  of  China,  based 
on  the  Chinese  language  Flora 
Repnblicae  Popularis  Sinicae. 

Eor  a more  complete  account, 
visit  HUH’s  Flora  of  China  web  site 
(http://flora.harvard.edu/china/). 


1997  American  Landscape  Lecture  Series 


READING  THE  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 

Lectures  in  memory  of  John  Brinckerhoff J ackson 


This  fifth  year  of  the  American  Landscape  Lecture  Series  is  dedicated 
to  the  memory  of  the  late  John  Brinckerhoff  Jackson,  pioneer  in  the  cul- 
tural interpretation  of  landscapes.  Each  speaker  will  offer  a unique  read- 
ing of  the  American  landscape.  The  series  is  a collaboration  among  the 
Arnold  Arboretum,  Olmsted  National  Historic  Site,  the  Harvard 
Graduate  School  of  Design,  and  other  landscape-oriented  sponsors.  We 
thank  the  Massachusetts  Foundation  for  the  Humanities  for  its  support. 

All  lectures  are  free  and  begin  at  6:30  pm  at  the  Harvard  Graduate 
School  of  Design,  48  Quincy  Street,  Cambridge.  For  information,  call 
the  National  Park  Service  at  6l'7/566— 1689  x 220. 

Thursday,  February  13:  Social  Connections  as  Clues  to  Cultural 
Landscape  Health 

Paul  Groth,  Associate  Professor  of  Architecture  and  Geography, 

U niversity  of  California,  Berkeley 

Thursday,  February  27:  Prospects  Aplenty:  Scale,  Identity,  and 
Change  in  Regional  Landscapes  of  America 
Michael  P.  Conzen.  Professor  of  Geography,  University  of  Chicago 
Thursday,  March  13:  The  Midwest:  America’s  Homegrown  Utopia 
Peirce  Lewis,  Professor  Emeritus  of  Geography,  Pennsylvania  State 
U niversity 

Thursday,  April  3:  Reinventing  Eden:  Landscape  as  Narrative 
Carolyn  Aierchant,  Professor  of  Environmental  History,  Philosophy  and 
Ethics,  University  of  California,  Berkeley 


PROGRAMScg'  EVENTS 


The  Arboretum's  Education  Department  offers  a wide  variety  of  courses,  programs,  and  lectures  in  horticulture, 
botany,  and  landscape  design.  A selection  of  spring  courses  is  shown  here.  For  a complete  catalogue  of  programs 
and  events  at  the  Arboretum,  please  call  6 1 '7/5 24- 17 18  x 162.  Note  that  fees  shown  in  boldface  are  for  Arbo- 
retum members.  For  information  about  becoming  a member,  call  617/524-1718  x 165. 


ART  120  Botanical  Perceptions: 

Drawing  from  Plants 

Jan  Arahas,  Artist  and  Art  Instructor 

What  do  the  artists  Leonardo  DaVinci,  Claude 
Monet,  and  Georgia  O’Keeffe  have  in  common? 

They  all  turned  to  the  botanical  realm  for  instruction 
and  inspiration.  In  this  course  we  will  emulate  these 
artists  and  observe  plants  carefully,  working  toward 
good  technical  skills  in  a variety  of  art  media, 
aiming  to  draw  clearly  what  we  see,  and  to  learn 
about  plant  structure  in  so  doing. 

Fee:  S93,  $112 

6 Mondays,  April  7,  14,  21,  28,  May  5,  12/  10:00- 
noon  (DG) 


BOT  343  Reading  the  Forested  Landscape: 
Making  Sense  of  Place 

Tom  Wessels,  Director,  Environmental  Biology  Program, 
Antioch  New  England  Graduate  School 
You  may  know  how  to  identify  your  neighborhood 
trees  but  not  know  why  pines  are  dominant  in  one 
place  and  maples  in  another.  You  may  notice  fungus 
growing  on  a beech  trunk  but  not  know  the  devas- 
tating impact  of  the  blights  on  our  forests  over  the 
centuries.  Unlock  the  mysteries  of  the  forest  in  this 
slide-illustrated  lecture  by  the  author  of  Reading  the 
Forested  Landscape:  A Natural  History  of  New  England. 
Fee:  S12,  $15 

Tuesday,  April  29/  7:00-8:30  pm  (WCC) 


1 


WINTER  1996-1997 


A Kind  of  Botanic  Mania 


Joan  W.  Goodwin 


The  simplicity  of  Linnaeus'  classification  system  opened  the  field  of  botany  to 
amateurs  and  its  study  was  soon  seen  as  "peculiarly  adapted  to  females." 


"I  have  this  summer  paid  some  attention  to 
Botany,"  wrote  seventeen-year-old  Sarah  Alden 
Bradford  (1793-1867)  to  fourteen-year-old 
Abigail  Bradford  Allyn  (1796-1860).  "It  is  not  a 
very  useful  study,  although  a very  pleasing  one," 
she  continued.  "It  is  however  an  innocent 
amusement,  and  enables  us  to  discover  Divine 
Wisdom,  even  in  the  construction  of  the  small- 
est flower."  Anticipating  her  family's  move 
later  that  year  of  1810  from  Boston  to  Duxbury, 
where  her  third  cousin  Abigail  lived,  Sarah 
added  her  intention  "to  try  to  persuade  you  to 
join  with  me,  in  examining  plants,  and  arrang- 
ing them  under  their  respective  classes."^ 
Apparently  she  succeeded.  Soon  Sarah's  father 
was  writing  to  her  brother  at  Harvard  that 
"Sarah  & Abba  are  studying  Botany  and  one 
would  think  they  hold  converse  only  with  the 
flowers  for  they  in  a manner  seclude  themselves 
from  human  observation  & from  communica- 
tion with  animal  nature.  I dont  know  what 
flower  they  affect  to  emulate  but  I dare  say  they 
are  known  to  each  other  under  some  order  or 
class  of  the  Lin[na]ean  system."  If  the  Harvard 
student  should  write  to  his  sister,  Bradford 
advised  him  to  "talk  about  calyx,  corolla, 
petals  & I will  engage  you  will  be  read."^ 
Without  realizing  it,  Sarah  and  Abba  were 
part  of  a fashionable  trend  that  was  drawing 
many  young  women  into  the  study  of  botany. 
The  simplicity  of  the  new  binomial  system 
of  classification  devised  by  Swedish  botanist 
Carolus  Linnaeus  (1707-1778) — which  catego- 
rized plants  according  to  the  number  and  posi- 
tion of  the  stamens  and  pistils  of  their  flowers — 
opened  the  field  of  botany  to  amateurs,  many  of 
whom  made  major  contributions  in  describing 
and  classifying  plants.  Wives  and  daughters 
were  introduced  to  the  study  as  helpers  of  bota- 


nist husbands  and  fathers.  Linnaeus's  daughter 
Elizabeth  Christina  saw  her  report  on  phospho- 
rescence in  nasturtiums  published  in  the  Trans- 
actions of  the  Royal  Swedish  Academy  of 
Sciences  in  1762.^  In  this  country,  fane  Colden 
(1724-1766)  was  introduced  to  botany  by  her 
father,  Cadwallader  Colden,  who  wrote  the  first 
local  flora  of  New  York  based  on  the  Linnaean 
system.  Jane  corresponded  with  experts  in  the 
field  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  was  widely 
praised  for  her  botanical  drawings,  and  was 
commended  to  Linnaeus  himself. 

From  the  mid-eighteenth  century  on  into  the 
nineteenth,  the  study  of  botany  was  considered 
especially  appropriate  for  young  women  who,  it 
was  assumed,  liked  flowers,  were  nurturing  by 
virtue  of  their  gender,  and  would  benefit  from 
healthful  but  not  strenuous  outdoor  exercise.  As 
Almira  Phelps  wrote  in  her  Familiar  Lectures 
on  Botany  (1829),  "the  study  of  Botany  seems 
peculiarly  adapted  to  females;  the  objects  of  its 
investigation  are  beautiful  and  delicate;  its  pur- 
suits, leading  to  exercise  in  the  open  air,  are  con- 
ducive to  health  and  cheerfulness."^  However, 
there  was  some  concern  that  since  the  Linnaean 
system  was  based  on  the  sexual  characteristics 
of  plants,  it  might  offend  delicate  sensibilities. 
In  Britain,  "desexualized"  texts  were  created  for 
female  audiences,  and  in  France  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau  omitted  the  Linnaean  system  in  his 
1771  Lettres  elementaires  sur  la  botanique, 
written  for  a mother  to  use  with  her  daughter. 
Thomas  Martyn's  English  translation.  Letters 
on  the  Elements  of  Botany,  addressed  to  a lady, 
on  the  other  hand,  suggested  that  the  Linnaean 
system  be  used  for  classification.^ 

Though  much  has  been  written  about  botany 
as  "the  female  science,"  the  letters  of  Sarah 
Alden  Bradford  provide  a rare  record  of  the 


18  Arnoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


This  portrait  of  Sarah  Alden  Bradford  Ripley  at  fifty-three,  drawn  by  Cheney 
in  1846,  now  hangs  in  the  Old  Manse  in  Concord,  Massachusetts. 

observations  of  a particular  young  woman 
caught  up  in  the  general  excitement  during 
those  years.  Sarah  read  French  as  well  as 
English,  and  Gamaliel  Bradford,  her  broad- 
minded sea  captain  father,  had  even  permitted 
her  to  learn  Latin  along  with  her  brothers.  When 
Sarah  and  Ahha  were  not  botanizing,  their  heads 
would  be  close  together  over  the  Aeneid,  for 
John  Allyn,  Ahba's  father  and  Duxbury's  minis- 
ter and  schoolteacher,  also  believed  in  educating 
daughters  as  well  as  sons.  Sarah  found  another 
mentor  in  Judge  John  Davis,  a Boston  neighbor 
whose  avocation  was  naturaJ  history.  He  weJ- 
comed  Sarah  to  his  library  and  his  extensive 


natural  history  collections.  It 
may  well  have  been  Judge 
Davis  who  first  interested  her 
in  botany.  Martyn's  version  of 
Rousseau  was  available  to 
Sarah  in  Judge  Davis's  library, 
along  with  Linnaeus's  own 
Genera  Plantarum  (1754), 
Philosophia  Botanica  (1790), 
and  Flora  Lapponica  (edited  by 
J.  E.  Smith,  1792),  and  James 
Lee's  popular  exposition  of  the 
Linnaean  system.  Introduction 
to  Botany  (Edinburgh,  1797).^ 
Back  in  Boston  after  a happy 
year  in  Duxhury,  Sarah  contin- 
ued her  literary  and  botan- 
ical correspondence  with  Ahba. 
Erom  Judge  Davis  she  bor- 
rowed The  Botanic  Garden 
(1789-1791),  in  which  Charles 
Darwin's  grandfather  Erasmus 
Darwin  combined  mythic  and 
scientific  elements  in  verse. 
The  first  part,  "The  Economy 
of  Vegetation,"  depicts  the  god- 
dess Flora  and  numerous  spirits 
as  directing  the  vegetable  king- 
dom. The  second  part,  "The 
Loves  of  Plants,"  dealt  with  the 
Linnaean  system  in  metaphors 
of  courtship  and  marriage. 
Sarah  described  the  first  part 
to  Abba  as  "very  beautiful" 
though  "highly  figurative"  and 
"splendid  perhaps  even  to  a 
fault."  She  did  not  expect  to  like  the  second 
part  so  well  because  "[i]t  is  founded  on  the 
sexual  system  of  Linnaeus,  that  the  dust  of  the 
anthers  is  absorbed  by  the  pistil,  and  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  the  production  of  perfect 
seed,  which  system  has  since  been  exploded, 
and  proved  to  have  been  but  a fanciful  idea  of 
that  great  botanist."* 

She  praised  Linnaeus  for  "making  the  number 
and  situation  of  the  stamens  and  pistils  the 
ground  of  distinction  between  the  classes, 
orders,  Stc"  and  for  reducing  the  number  of 
classes,  "which  were  before  very  numerous 
depending  on  differences  in  the  leaves  Stc  of 


Botanic  Mania  19 


vegetables."  However,  she  thought  that  "[t]he 
idea  of  sexual  distinction  in  plants,  forming  so 
striking  an  analogy  between  the  animal  and  veg- 
etable kingdoms,  giving  so  important  a part  in 
the  economy  of  vegetation,  to  the  dust  of  the 
anthers,  which  otherwise  appears  entirely  use- 
less to  the  plant,  so  caught  the  imagination  of 
Linnaeus,  that  he  overlooked  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  his  favorite  system,  which  have  since 
been  proved  conclusive  arguments  against  it."^ 

Indeed,  the  Scottish  professor  Charles  Alston, 
among  others,  disputed  Linnaeus's  claim  that 
the  "dust  of  the  anthers"  was  essential  to  repro- 
duction in  plants  and  instead  likened  pollen  to 
excrement,  thrown  off  by  the  plant  as  superflu- 
ous.^*’ Sarah  would  soon  learn,  however,  that 
Linnaeus's  system  had  not  been  "exploded." 
In  this  instance  and  in  others  that  follow,  it 
is  interesting  to  see  the  scientific  controversies 
of  the  time  from  the  viewpoint  of  this  young 
devotee. 

In  1813,  though  longing  to  return  to  the 
woods  and  fields  of  Duxbury,  Sarah  was  recon- 
ciled to  spending  the  summer  in  Boston  by  her 
father's  offer  to  take  her  to  a series  of  botanical 
lectures  by  William  Dandridge  Peck.  "[T]hey 
commence  next  week,"  she  wrote  excitedly 
to  Ahha,  "and  we  are  besides  to  have  the  privi- 
lege of  visiting  the  Botanic  garden  as  often  as 
we  please."'* 

Professor  Peck,  appointed  to  Harvard's  newly 
created  chair  in  natural  history,  was  also  direc- 
tor of  the  Botanic  Garden,  bounded  by  the 
present  Linnaean,  Garden,  and  Raymond  Streets 
and  augmented  hy  a gift  of  land  from  the  adjoin- 
ing Andrew  Craigie  estate.'^  According  to  Peck, 
the  garden  was  "intended  for  the  cultivation  of 
plants  from  various  parts  of  the  world,  to  facili- 
tate the  acquisition  of  botanical  knowledge.  It 
was  also  intended  to  receive  all  such  indigenous 
trees,  shruhs,  and  herbaceous  plants,  as  are  wor- 
thy of  attention,  as  being  useful  in  domestic 
economy,  in  the  arts,  or  in  medicine."  Begun 
with  contributions  from  nearby  greenhouses,  it 
was  gradually  enlarged  by  travelers  to  the  East 
and  West  Indies  and  Africa.'^ 

Soon  Abba  was  treated  to  a secondhand  ver- 
sion of  the  Peck  lectures.  In  fact,  Sarah's  letters 
over  the  next  few  years  offer  a striking  parallel 
to  contemporary  botanical  texts  written  for 


young  people  in  epistolary  form.  The  British 
author  Priscilla  Wakefield,  for  example,  used 
the  device  of  letters  between  two  teenage  sis- 
ters, Felicia  and  Constance,  one  of  whom  is 
learning  botany  and  explaining  her  lessons  to 
the  other. Whether  or  not  Sarah  had  read  the 
American  edition  of  Wakefield  (1811),  she  was 
as  eager  as  the  young  woman  in  the  book  to 
share  her  discoveries. 

"I  warn  you  before  you  begin  you  will  hear 
nothing  except  de  classe  et  ordine  et  genere,  for 
there  prevaileth  hereabouts  a kind  of  Botanic 
mania,"  Sarah  wrote.  She  had  obtained  "our 
great  desideratum  a work  almost  wholly  con- 
fined to  Genera  and  species,  so  that  if  I find  a 
flower  whose  name  is  unknown  to  me,  I have 
only  to  turn  to  the  page  where  its  particular 
class  and  order  (whatever  they  may  be)  are  writ- 
ten above  after  the  manner  of  a dictionary,  and 
compare  it  with  the  descriptions  of  the  several 
Genera  under  that  class,  which  are  so  exact  that 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  mistake  them,  and 
when  I find  one  agreeing  with  it  exactly,  I have 
its  Generic  name,  I then  turn  to  that  Genus  in 
another  volume  on  species  and  find  its  common 
or  trivial  name  as  botanists  say,  its  properties, 
the  places  where  it  usually  grows  Stc."'^ 

Sarah  shared  her  new  knowledge  of  willow 
trees  ("which  you  know  are  of  the  class 
Dioecia"),  giving  a meticulous  description  of 
the  blossoms,  including  "a  nectarium  scarcely 
discernable  to  the  naked  eye  but  very  plainly 
seen  with  the  help  of  that  microscope  we  had 
last  summer."  She  urged  Abba  to  examine  the 
willows  in  Duxbury  and  instructed  her  further 
about  the  nectarium  "which  varies  very  much 
in  different  flowers  and  in  some  makes  almost 
their  whole  bulk,  as  in  the  Columbine,  which 
you  will  find  in  the  swamp  at  the  back  of  your 
house,  those  four  hollow  tubes  resembling 
horns  are  the  nectaria  which  I know  by  experi- 
ence for  I have  sucked  the  honey  out  of  them 
many  a time."'® 

She  also  learned  about  Cryptogamia  when 
"Mr.  Peck,  our  lecturer  gave  us  a curious  plant 
called  Equisetum  or  horsetail,  it  bears  its  fructi- 
fications in  a spike,  which  is  composed  of  little 
plates  in  the  form  of  shields  supported  on  short 
foot  stalks,  their  edges  hung  round  with  bags 
which  when  viewed  with  the  microscope 


20  Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


resemble  the  fingers  of  a glove,  when  they  are 
ripe  they  burst  open  and  drop  out  balls  which 
are  supposed  to  be  the  seeds,  to  which  are 
affixed  four  strings  resembling  and  supposed  to 
be  antherae."^^ 

Another  friend  of  Sarah's  to  receive  accounts 
of  the  lectures  was  Mary  Moody  Emerson,  one 
of  whose  young  nephews  would  later  become 
famous.  "We  have  been  attending  a course  of 
Botanical  lectures,  and  have  found  them  numer- 
ously frequented  by  the  beau-monde,"  Sarah 
informed  Mary,  adding  archly  that  "we  are 
pleased  to  see  so  rational  an  amusement  in  fash- 
ion; by  exciting  a taste  for  nature  it  may  perhaps 
render  the  country  supportable  to  some  of  our 
fine  ladies."  "Linnaeus  was  the  lady's  man,"  she 
observed  later,  "and  the  ladies  have  just  found 
it  out."'* 

For  Mary,  Sarah  described  henbane;  "Its  lurid 
and  disagreeable  aspect  and  foetid  smell  would 
repel  all  but  the  botanist.  The  whole  plant  is 
covered  with  a fine  kind  of  glutinous  hair.  The 
colour  of  its  blossom  is  a dirty  yellow  striped 
with  dark  purple.  It  is  a most  deadly  poison,  but 
as  is  generally  the  case  with  plants  of  its  affin- 
ity has  been  discovered  to  possess  great  medici- 
nal virtue."  Knowing  that  Mary  was  more 
interested  in  the  state  of  her  soul  than  in  her 
newly  acquired  knowledge,  Sarah  added  a reli- 
gious note.  "Instances  like  these  daily  multi- 
plied are  unspeakably  delightful,"  she  wrote. 
"They  vindicate  the  ways  of  God  to  man.  What 
a world  of  wonders  the  vegetable  creation 
unfolds  to  the  enquiring  eye!  If  the  grand,  mag- 
nificent, stupendous  frame  of  some  parts  of  the 
Divine  scheme  have  oft  compelled  the  exclama- 
tion 'what  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him' 
how  instantly  is  the  doubt  relieved  when  we 
behold  the  admirable  and  complicated  provision 
for  the  preservation,  multiplication,  and 
disperson  of  the  most  minute  and  to  limited 
human  knowledge  apparently  most  useless  spe- 
cies of  vegetation!"  She  went  on  with  a poetic 
description  of  the  variety  of  seed  dispersal: 
"those  furnished  with  silken  wings  soar  aloft 
wafted  by  some  propitious  breeze  to  their  des- 
tined spot.  Those  armed  with  hooks  avail  them- 
selves of  passing  travellers'  aid  for  conveyance. 
Some  confined  in  an  elastic  case,  when  ripe 
burst  their  prison,  and  are  propelled  abroad  with 


amazing  force,-  others  borne  as  it  were  in  a light 
balloon  cut  the  liquid  air,  or  skim  the  surface  of 
the  wave!"'’ 

As  the  lectures  came  to  an  end,  Sarah  was 
bursting  with  things  to  tell  Abba.  She  was  par- 
ticularly struck  with  Professor  Peck's  account  of 
Linnaeus's  discovery  of  the  sleep  of  plants.  "He 
[Linnaeus]  was  presented  with  some  unknown 
plants  in  blossom,  and  not  having  time  to  exam- 
ine them,  he  ordered  the  gardener  to  set  them 
out,  and  take  particular  care  of  the  blossom.  At 
evening  being  at  leisure  he  visited  them  and  to 
his  chagrin  and  disappointment  the  flowers 
were  not  to  be  found.  The  gardener  was  repri- 
manded and  promised  to  be  more  careful  in 
future.  The  next  morning  they  were  visible  and 
Linnaeus  engaged  again  deferred  visiting  them 
till  evening  when  the  flowers  had  disappeared 
as  before.  This  was  done  thrice,  and  at  length 
examining  them  more  closely,  he  found  the  flo- 
ral leaves  at  the  base  of  the  blossoms  had  risen 
and  completely  enveloped  them.  Struck  with 
the  idea  that  some  such  change  might  take  place 
in  all  plants,  at  midnight  with  a lantern  he  vis- 
its his  greenhouse,  and  there  sure  enough  he 
finds  his  dear  family  all  sound  [asleep].  The  sol- 
emn hour  of  night  combined  with  the  silence 
and  novelty  of  the  scene  affected  Linnaeus  even 
to  tears.  They  were  the  tears  of  admiration  and 
gratitude  we  may  suppose  a parent  might  shed 
at  the  development  of  some  new  faculty  in  a 
beloved  offspring."  As  a demonstration  to  his 
class,  "Mr  Peck  brought  a plant  asleep  one 
morning,  which  was  very  carefully  wrapped 
up  in  cotton  wool  to  keep  it  from  the  light; 
the  leaves  were  curiously  folded  together,  but 
by  exposing  it  to  the  influence  of  the  sun's 
rays,  before  lecture  was  over  it  had  begun  to 
recover. 

When  Professor  Peck  lectured  on  Linnaeus's 
experiment  with  the  fig  tree,  Sarah  was  con- 
vinced, if  she  had  not  been  before,  of  the  sexual 
function  of  flowers.  She  described  for  Abba  "an 
exhibition  with  the  solar  microscope  of  the 
flowers  of  the  fig  tree  which  grow  within  the 
fruit,  and  are  curious  also  as  being  an  example  of 
the  23  class.  The  fig  was  quoted  and  termed 
fructussine  flore  in  contradiction  to  an  assertion 
of  Linnaeus  that  flowers  were  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  the  production  of  fruit.  [However, 


Botanic  Mania  21 


Linnaeus]  discovered  the  hiding 
place  of  the  blossoms  and  taught 
his  opponents  that  in  many  cases, 
in  order  to  form  an  accurate  judg- 
ment it  is  necessary  to  look  beyond 
the  surface."^' 

The  following  summer  found  Sarah 
still  enthusiastic  about  botany.  She 
encouraged  Abba  to  visit  her,  writ- 
ing, "Craigie's  swamp  will  be  full  of 
flowers,  Smith's  botany  will  be  pub- 
lished, and  we  will  enjoy  ourselves 
finely  together.  In  1814,  Jacob 
Bigelow,  founder  and  president  of 
Boston's  Linnean  Society,  brought 
out  the  American  edition  of  James 
Edward  Smith's  popular  English 
botany  text,  trusting  that  "the 
present  edition  will  not  be  unac- 
ceptable to  the  public,  particularly 
to  students  attending  the  botanical 
lectures  in  this  place,  for  whose  use 
it  was  originally  undertaken.  He 
added  notes  on  American  plants 
and  an  expanded  glossary  of  botani- 
cal terms.  In  Smith  Sarah  could 
read  the  full  account  of  the  "lumi- 
nous experiment"  in  which 
Linnaeus  removed  the  anthers  from 
a flower,  destroying  the  rest  of  the 
day's  blossoms,  and  another  day 
repeating  the  process  but  sprinkling 
pollen  from  another  flower  on  the 
stigma  of  one  from  which  he  had 
removed  the  anthers.  When  the 
first  flower  produced  no  fruit  while 
the  second  produced  perfect  seed, 

Linnaeus  had  proved  his  point,  according  to 
Smith. 

In  Smith's  eyes,  the  facts  of  plant  life  did  not 
detract  from  the  delight  of  botanical  study.  "The 
natural  history  of  animals,  in  many  respects 
even  more  interesting  to  man  as  an  animated 
being,  and  more  striking  in  some  of  the  phe- 
nomena which  it  displays,  is  in  other  points  less 
pleasing  to  a tender  and  delicate  mind,"  he 
wrote  in  his  preface,  while  "[ijn  botany  all  is 
elegance  and  delight.  No  painful,  disgusting, 
unhealthy  experiments  or  inquiries  are  to  be 


made.  Its  pleasures  spring  up  under  our  feet, 
and,  as  we  pursue  them,  reward  us  with  health 
and  serene  satisfaction.  . . . The  more  we  study 
the  works  of  the  Creator,  the  more  wisdom, 
beauty  and  harmony  become  manifest,  even 
to  our  limited  apprehensions,-  and  while  we 
admire,  it  is  impossible  not  to  adore. 

As  we  have  seen,  Sarah,  with  her  Unitarian 
upbringing,  had  already  found  botany  to  be  a 
religiously  illuminating  experience.  "If  you 
have  never  examined  a dandelion  flower,"  she 
wrote  Abba,  "you  will  find  it  very  curious,  the 


William  Dandiidge  Peck,  professor  of  natural  history  and  founding 
director  of  the  Harvard  Botanic  Garden  in  Cambridge  (1805-1822), 
credited  his  interest  in  natural  history  to  an  “imperfect”  copy  of 
Linnaeus’s  Systema  Naturae  that  he  retrieved  from  a ship  wrecked 
near  his  home  in  Newbury,  Massachusetts.  Almost  immediately  on 
being  named  director  of  the  yet-to-be-created  Harvard  Botanic 
Garden  in  1805,  William  Peck  set  sail  for  Europe,  where  for  three 
years  he  visited  the  great  gardens,  collecting  seeds,  plants,  books, 
and  ideas. 


GRAY  HERBARIUJVl  ARCHIVES  OF  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 


22  Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


A Plan  for  the  Botanic  Garden  at  Cambridge 


The  idea  for  "a  large  well-sheltered  garden  and  orchard  for  students  addicted  to  planting"  was  broached 
at  Harvard  as  early  as  1672,  and  in  1784  the  King  of  France  offered  "to  furnish  such  [botanic]  garden  with 
every  species  of  seeds  and  plants  which  may  be  requested  from  his  royal  garden,  at  his  own  expense." 
Finally,  in  1805,  a collaboration  between  the  College  and  the  Massachusetts  Society  for  Promoting  Agri- 
culture provided  for  a professorship  of  natural  history;  among  the  duties  of  the  professor  was  the  forma- 
tion of  a "Botanic  Garden  on  the  grounds  that  shall  be  provided  for  that  purpose."*  William  Dandridge 
Peck  promptly  set  sail  for  a lengthy  tour  of 
western  Europe. 

At  Uppsala  Peck  acquired  seeds  of  150 
species  of  plants  and  500  herbarium  speci- 
mens that  "are  such  as  are  rare  and  valuable, 
especially  as  they  are  from  persons  of  the 
most  correct  information."  He  was  told 
there  "that  the  arrangement  of  plants  in  a 
garden  according  to  Classes  and  orders  in  the 
[Linnaean]  System  is  both  difficult  and 
inconvenient;  but  the  disposition  of  them 
according  to  their  natural  orders  in  concen- 
tric circles  is  much  more  commodious." 

In  1808  he  sent  a plan  (top  right)  from 
Paris  that  grew  out  of  several  conversations 
at  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  with  M.  Thouin,  "a 
gentleman  of  eminence  in  the  profession  of 
ornamental  gardening."  It  provided  for  vari- 
ous trees  and  flowering  shrubs;  small  lawns 
with  flowers  and  shrubs;  hothouse,  green- 
houses, cold  frames,  and  hotbeds.  The  "gar- 
den of  Arrangement  or  Botanic  School" 
forms  the  large  central  oval  (D).  From  Kew 
Peck  had  written,  "A  reservoir  of  water  fed 
and  kept  sweet  by  a small  spring  is  the  best 
situation  for  aquatic  plants."  Accordingly, 

"Bason  or  reserves  with  running  and  stag- 
nant waters"  are  designated  at  center  (C). 

Peck  had  seen  the  Garden's  site  only 
briefly  before  his  European  trip,  and 
although  he  remembered  the  wetland,  he 
did  not  recall  the  shape  of  the  grounds.  In 
the  1888  plan  (bottom  right)  some  of  the 
elements  of  the  1808  scheme  can  be  seen, 
including  a pool  for  aquatic  plants  at  the  cen- 
ter of  the  concentric  planting  beds.  Native 
and  exotic  trees  and  shrubs  were  planted  at 
once,  and  later  came  a conservatory;  native 
herbs  around  a spring  in  the  southwest  cor- 
ner; seedplots,  cold  frames,  and  hotbeds 
screened  by  a hedge  of  European  beech;  a 
gardener's  cottage. 


* Goodale,  George  L.  1991.  The  Botanic  Garden 
at  Cambridge.  Harvard  Register,  Vol.  3 (Jan.). 


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Botanic  Mania  23 


downy  wings  of  the  seeds  by  which  they  are 
scattered  far  and  wide.  The  perfect  uniformity 
of  the  little  flowers,  each  with  its  pistil  and  five 
stamens  united  by  the  anthers,  the  filaments 
separate,  almost  too  small  to  be  distinguished 
with  the  naked  eye.  The  same  order,  regularity 
and  beauty  are  as  visible  in  the  least  as  in 
the  greatest  of  the  works  of  creation.  Do  you 
think  a dandelion  could  have  been  the  work  of 
chance?  Surely  that  study  cannot  be  entirely 
useless  which  can  make  even  this  most  despised 
of  flowers  a source  of  admiration  and  enter- 
tainment, a demonstration  of  the  hand  of  a 
Creator. 

Two  years  after  the  lecture  series,  Sarah  won- 
dered if  Abba  was  reading  Smith  and  recom- 
mended the  sixteenth  chapter  on  the  functions 
of  leaves.  "It  is  amusing,"  she  wrote,  "to  trace 
the  striking  analogies  between  the  animal  and 
vegetable  kingdoms  in  respiration,  secretion  St 
all  the  similar  and  diversified  effects  of  the  vital 
principle  in  each.  Theories  which  pretend  to 
explain  these  effects  in  vegetation  on  chemical 
or  mechanical  principles  are  unsatisfactory." 
Smith  had  mentioned  heat  and  wind  as  possible 
causes  for  the  flow  of  sap  from  root  to  branch. 

It  seemed  to  Sarah  that  "[t]he  attraction  of  cohe- 
sion may  account  for  the  ascent  of  fluids  to 
small  heights,  but  not  for  the  propulsion  of  the 
sap  from  the  spreading  roots  of  the  oak  through- 
out the  unnumbered  ramifications  of  its  tower- 
ing limbs;  that  this  most  important  function 
should  depend  on  the  agitation  of  the  inconstant 
breeze  is  equally  inconceivable;  if  you  ascribe  it 
to  the  vital  energy  and  suppose  some  action  of 
the  spiral  coated  sap  vessells  similar  to  the  pul- 
sation of  the  arteries,  a distinction  sufficiently 
broad  is  marked  between  organic  and  inorganic 
bodies,  and  the  operations  of  animal  and  veg- 
etable organs  analogous  in  their  curious  struc- 
ture and.  combinations,  are  explained  from 
similar  causes.  How  regular  the  gradation  too 
from  species  to  species  in  the  long  series  of 
organized  existance!"^® 

Continuing  her  line  of  thought,  she  con- 
fronted Abba  with  a botanical  extension  of  the 
popular  philosophical  idea  of  the  Great  Chain  of 
Being  supposed  to  link  deity  and  the  hierarchy 
of  heavenly  spirits  with  humans  and  the  lower 
animals.  "I  suppose  your  ladyship  would  not 


feel  her  dignity  mueh  impaired  by  kindred  with 
the  majestic  elm  or  delicate  sensitive  plant," 
she  wrote,  "but  how  would  you  receive  the  hand 
of  fraternity  extended  by  a potato  or  toadstool? 
Distinctions  which  appear  so  striking  and 
marked  when  extremes  are  compared  blend 
insensibly  into  each  other  as  we  descend,  and 
genus  is  linked  with  genus  in  a chain  which  the 
delighted  philosopher  cannot  nor  does  not  wish 
to  dissolve.  Nature  never  disturbs  us  with 
abrupt  transitions  in  any  of  her  operations; 
broad  day  softens  into  twilight,  twilight  deepens 
into  the  shades  of  evening;  the  process  of  vegeta- 
tion, from  the  first  swelling  of  the  seed  till  the 
perfect  plant  appears  in  all  the  luxuriancy  of 
foliage  and  beauty  of  fructification,  is  so  imper- 
ceptible that  we  are  affected  with  no  wonder  or 
admiration  at  the  secret  agency  of  Divine  power 
in  the  successive  stages  of  its  progress  and  are 
astonished  only  when  we  compare  what  it  is 
with  what  it  was."^^ 

Sarah  continued  botanical  study  throughout  her 
life.  Three  years  after  she  wrote  the  letter  just 
quoted,  she  married  the  Rev.  Samuel  Ripley,  the 
Unitarian  minister  in  Waltham  who  also  kept  a 
boarding  school  to  prepare  boys  for  Harvard.  In 
addition  to  teaching  Latin,  Greek,  and  math- 
ematics in  the  school,  Sarah  raised  her  own 
seven  children  and  an  adopted  niece  and  man- 
aged the  large  household  with  only  sporadic 
help.  Collecting  excursions  to  Prospect  Hill  and 
visits  from  an  expert  amateur  botanist,  the  Rev. 
John  Russell,  provided  much-needed  recreation 
during  those  busy  years. 

When  Asa  Gray  was  appointed  Fisher  Profes- 
sor of  Natural  History  at  Harvard  in  1842,  he 
was  told  about  "a  learned  lady  in  these  parts, 
who  assists  her  husband  in  his  school,  and 
who  hears  the  boys'  recitations  in  Greek  and 
geometry  at  the  ironing-board,  while  she  is 
smoothing  their  shirts  and  jackets!  . . . reads 
German  authors  while  she  is  stirring  her  pud- 
ding, and  has  a Hebrew  book  before  her,  when 
knitting. . . . Even  my  own  occupation  may  soon 
be  gone;  for  I am  told  that  Mrs.  Ripley  (the 
learned  lady  aforesaid)  is  the  best  botanist  in 
the  country  round. 

Soon  Gray  was  sharing  his  books  with  this 
learned  lady.  One,  "a  beautiful  edition  of  a 


24  Arnoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


french  work  on  botany,"  gave  Sarah  "great  plea- 
sure in  getting  at  the  mind  of  a man  of  genius 
through  his  scientific  method."  She  found  it 
"much  more  satisfactory  to  begin  from  the  root 
and  study  upwards,  than  to  pick  open  a flower, 
count  the  stamens  refer  it  to  a class  and  give  it  a 
name."^'  When  a book  on  European  mosses 
came  to  the  botanical  library.  Gray  promised 
to  loan  it  to  her  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  with 
it  himself.^^ 

Sarah  spent  her  last  years  in  retirement  at  the 
Old  Manse  in  Concord,  Massachusetts,  where 
some  of  her  mounted  specimens  may  be  seen. 
In  her  seventies,  she  was  still  teaching  botany, 
writing  to  a young  grandson,  "I  long  to  have  the 
bright  days  of  summer  come  for  you  and  dear 
little  Ezra  to  gather  flowers  of  all  kinds.  . . . And 
poor  old  GrandMa  will  tell  him  all  she  knows, 
and  put  them  in  a book  that  has  pretty  flowers, 
which  have  been  pressed  and  kept  a great  while, 
and  are  still  bright  and  beautiful. 

Endnotes 

^ SAB  to  ABA,  n.d.  (1810?),  Sarah  Alden  Bradford 
Ripley  Papers,  MC  180,  Schlesinger  Library,  Radcliffe 
College,  hereafter  cited  as  SABR. 

^ Gamaliel  Bradford  to  Gamaliel  Bradford,  Jr., 
"Thursday"  (1810?),  Bradford  Papers,  bMS  Am 
1183.32,  by  permission  of  the  Houghton  Library, 
Harvard  University. 

^ Ann  B.  Shteir,  "Linnaeus's  Daughters:  Women  and 
British  Botany,"  in  Barbara  J.  Harris  and  Jo  Ann  K. 
McNamara,  eds..  Women  and  the  Structure  of 
Society  (Durham,  NC:  Duke  University  Press,  1984), 
69. 

* See  Mary  Harrison,  "Jane  Golden:  Colonial  American 
Botanist,"  Arnoldia  (Summer,  1995)  55(2):  19-26. 

^ Quoted  in  Vera  Norwood,  Made  From  This  Earth: 
American  Women  and  Nature  (Chapel  Hill: 
University  of  North  Carolina  Press,  1993). 

® Ann  B.  Shteir,  Cultivating  Women,  Cultivating 
Science:  Flora’s  Daughters  and  Botany  in  England, 
1760-1860  (Baltimore:  Johns  Hopkins  University 
Press,  1996),  19-20,  23. 

^ Catalogue  of  the  Private  Library  of  the  Late  fudge 
Davis  (Boston:  Alfred  Mudge,  1847),  17,  20,  43. 

8 SAB  to  ABA,  Nov.  3 (1812?),  SABR. 

^ Ibid. 

Shteir,  Cultivating  Women,  Cultivating  Science, 
17.  James  Edward  Smith,  An  Introduction  to 
Physiological  and  Systematical  Botany,  First 
American,  from  the  Second  English  Edition,  with 


notes  by  Jacob  Bigelow,  M.D.  (Boston:  Bradford  &. 
Read,  1814),  253.  Smith  names  Tournefort  and 
Pontedera  as  being  of  the  same  opinion. 

" SAB  to  ABA,  n.d.  (1813),  SABR. 

Jeannette  E.  Graustein,  Harvard's  Only  Massa- 
chusetts Professor  of  Natural  History,  Harvard 
Alumni  Bulletin  (December  13,  1958),  243. 

William  Dandridge  Peck,  A Catalogue  of  American 
and  Foreign  Plants  Cultivated  in  the  Botanic 
Garden.  Cambridge.  Massachusetts  (Cambridge: 
University  Press,  1818). 

Priscilla  Wakefield,  An  Introduction  to  Botany,  in  a 
Series  of  Familiar  Letters  (1st  British  ed.,  1796;  6th 
ed.,  Philadelphia:  Kimber  &.  Conrad,  1811). 

SAB  to  ABA,  n.d.  (1813),  SABR.  Sarah  offers  no 
authors  or  titles  for  the  books  she  was  using  prior  to 
the  publication  of  the  American  edition  of  Smith. 

Ibid. 

Ibid. 

SAB  to  MME,  n.d.  (1813);  Sept.  5 (1817?),  SABR. 

19  SAB  to  MME,  n.d.  (1813),  SABR. 

SAB  to  ABA,  n.d.  (1813),  SABR. 

^1  Ibid. 

SAB  to  ABA,  n.d.  (1814),  SABR. 

^8  Jacob  Bigelow,  "Advertisement  to  the  American 
Edition,"  Smith,  v. 

Smith,  253. 

25  Ibid.,  18-20. 

25  SAB  to  ABA,  n.d.  (1812?),  SABR. 

22  Smith,  54-55. 

28  SAB  to  ABA,  Sept.  30  (1815),  SABR. 

29  Ibid. 

8°  Jane  Loring  Gray,  ed..  Letters  of  Asa  Gray  (Boston: 
Houghton,  Mifflin,  1893),  I:  289. 

81  SAR  to  George  F.  Simmons,  June  26,  1844,  SABR. 
Unfortunately,  Sarah  failed  to  mention  the  name  of 
this  "man  of  genius"  or  the  title  of  his  book. 

82  Ibid.,  Dec.  12,  1844. 

88  SAR  to  William  Sydney  Thayer,  n.d.  (winter,  spring, 
1867?),  MS  Storage  296  (#51),  by  permission  of  the 
Houghton  Library,  Harvard  University. 

Acknowledgments 

The  author  wishes  to  thank  Peter  Stevens  of  the  Harvard 
University  Botany  Department  and  Mary  Harrison, 
Arnold  Arboretum  volunteer,  as  well  as  Arnoldia  editor 
Karen  Madsen  for  their  helpful  comments. 


Joan  W.  Goodwin,  who  lives  in  Brookline,  Massa- 
chusetts, is  an  independent  scholar  now  completing  a 
biography  of  Sarah  Alden  Bradford  Ripley. 


A Multitude  of  Botanies:  Book  Essay 


Petei  Stevens 


Cultivating  Women,  Cultivating  Science: 
Flora’s  Daughters  and  Botany  in  England  1760 
to  1860.  Anne  B.  Shteir.  Baltimore:  Johns 
Hopkins  University  Press,  1996.  Hardcover,  312 
pages 

What  does  the  word  botany  bring  to  mind?  A 
nosegay  held  hy  a young  girl?  Field  studies  by 
amateurs  that  result  in  finds  of  new  plants  sub- 
sequently reported  in  the  proceedings  of  botani- 
cal clubs  using  sesquipedalian  words  with  Latin 
and  Greek  roots?  Classificatory  studies  carried 
out  in  the  cavernous  halls  of  a large  herbarium? 
Physiological  and  ecological  studies  of  a prairie 
grass?  In  the  nineteenth  century  these  were  seen 
by  many  as  being  competing  ideas,  and  what  we 
call  botany  in  the  twentieth  century — and  dif- 
ferent people  still  define  it  in  different  ways — 
owes  much  to  debates  in  the  late  eighteenth  and 
nineteenth  centuries.  These  were  between  pro- 
fessional botanists  promoting  very  different 
visions  of  their  discipline,  and  between  what 
we  might  call  amateurs  and  professionals,  both 
men  and  women,  as  they,  too,  strove  to  shape 
public  interest  in  a particular  area  of  botany,  or 
simply  responded  to  what  they  saw  as  a market 
for  particular  kinds  of  botanical  works. 

Shteir's  Cultivating  Women,  Cultivating 
Science — clearly  written  and  well-illustrated — 
helps  us  understand  the  issues  involved.  Her 
subject  is  women  in  both  popular  and  more  sci- 
entific cultures  of  botany  in  the  period  1760- 
1860,  and  she  summarizes  some  of  the  topics 
that  will  engage  her  as  she  outlines  how 
Linnaeus's  classification,  all  the  rage  in  the 
1760s,  came  to  be  perceived  at  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century:  "Teachers  continued 
to  explicate  Linnaean  botany  for  students,  but 
increasingly  it  was  seen  as  the  gateway,  or  the 
lower  rung  of  the  ladder  of  botanical  knowledge, 
associated  with  children,  beginners,  and 


women.  During  the  1790s  commentators  began 
distinguishing  between  the  'botanist'  and 
'botanophile',  between  the  scientist  and  enthu- 
siast . . . the  botanist  was  male  and  masculine 
and  the  botanophile  usually  female  and  femi- 
nine. As  a result,  during  the  1820s  some  bota- 
nists began  to  generate  strategies  to  'defeminize' 
the  public  image  of  the  science."' 

Botany  proper,  these  male  botanists  thought, 
was  not  simply  the  Linnaean  system,-  botany 
was  not  a subject  that  interested  women  alone,- 
botany  was  an  exciting  science  worthy  of  atten- 
tion by  men.  Much  ink  was  to  be  used  in  defin- 
ing what  botany  was  all  about,  yet  the  same 
arguments  were  being  made  at  the  end  of  the 
century,  as  we  will  see. 

Shteir  first  summarizes  how  Linnaean  botany — 
the  identification  and  naming  of  plants  using 
Linnaeus's  system — became  part  of  the  social 
culture  of  women  by  the  early  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. This  was  despite  criticism  by  those  who 
found  the  Linnaean  sexual  system  offensive, 
and  by  some  Romantic  poets  who  felt  that  the 
rigidity  of  Linnaeus's  approach  was  antithetical 
to  their  artistic  concerns.  Shteir  then  focuses  on 
two  groups  of  women  writers  responsible  for  the 
integration  of  Linnaean  botany  with  popular 
middle-  and  upper-class  culture.  A group  of 
these  women  wrote  botanical  books  that  spe- 
cifically addressed  mothers  and  governesses  of 
children,  especially  girls.  Such  books  were 
much  in  demand,  judging  by  the  numbers  of 
times  many  of  them  were  reprinted. 

She  then  discusses  the  work  of  three  women, 
Maria  Jacson,  Agnes  Ibbotson,  and  Elizabeth 
Kent,  who  made  careers  in  botanical  writing, 
whether  or  not  they  made  a living  by  their  work. 
Agnes  Ibbotson,  who  died  in  1823,  is  particu- 
larly interesting.  Her  interests  were  in  more 
"philosophical"  botany,  that  is,  botany  that 


26  Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


A. 

JOURNAL 

or 

NATURAL  PHILOSOPHY,  CHEMISTRY, 

AND 

THE  ARTS. 


SEPTEMBER,  1310. 


ARTICLE  1. 

On  the  Structure  and  GrovctU  of  Seeds.  Jn  a Letter  from 
Mrs.  Agnks  Ibbetson. 

To  Mr.  NICHOLSON. 

SIR. 

J^AVING  been  requested  by  a gentleioan,  highly  es- ThciuthorT 

teemed  in  the  botaoical  world  for  the  knowledge  he  has  dis- 
, j L • 1 /•  wfue  on  ihc 

played  in  that  science,  to  review  the  formation  ot  seeds  in  subject 

general ; to  give  a clear  and  concise  picture  of  the  growth 
of  the  embryo  plant,  from  the  first  of  its  appearance  in  the 
seed  ve^el,  to  its  shooting  a perfect  plant  from  the  earth  ; 
to  endeavour  to  prove  the  mistakes  the  variety  of  appella- 
tions have  caused,  as  well  as  the  misconeepiions  its  extreme 
minuteness  naturally  occasions;  and  to  sl.v  also  in  what 
order  the  several  parts  appear,  as  physiologists  have  dif- 
fered much  ill  thik  respect:  honouied  by  such  a recjuest,  1 
shall  venture  to  begin  my  task,  trusting  in  the  great  mag- 
nifying powers  of  the  various  eitcelleiit  invtrument<i  we  no'v 
possess,  and  apologizing  for  venturing  to  contradict  authors 
(o  much  superior  to  me  in  science,  as  in  thi»  matter  the 

VoL,XaCVII.  No.  121— Sept.  UiO.  B eyes 


included  physiology,  anatomy,  and  work  with 
microscope,  and  they  engrossed  her  energies  for 
over  twenty  years  at  her  home  near  Exeter,  in 
the  southwest  of  England.  Largely  without  con- 
tact with  metropolitan  botanical  colleagues,  she 
nevertheless  contributed  to  periodicals  such  as 
The  Philosophical  Magazine  and  Annals  of 
Philosophy.  However,  when  she  sent  a sum- 
mary of  her  life's  work  to  the  doyen  of  British 
botanists.  Sir  J.  E.  Smith,  president  of  the  Lin- 
nean  Society  and  owner  of  Linnaeus's  collec- 
tions, she  received  no  encouragement.  I would 
love  to  know  more  about  Ibbotson's  work  and  to 
see  some  of  the  illustrations  she  drew  and  to 
find  out  about  Smith's  own  ideas  about  philo- 
sophical botany.  (Staunch  upholder  of  the  Lin- 
naean  system  though  Smith  was,  Shteir  notes 
he  wrote  An  Introduction  to  Physiological 
[philosophical]  and  Systematical  Botuny.)  With- 
out such  information,  it  seems  premature  to 


suggest  that  Smith  felt  challenged  by 
Ibbotson's  work,  or  to  compare  her  work 
with  that  of  the  Nobel  Prize  winner 
Barbara  McClintock. 

John  Bindley  is  the  next  to  figure  in 
Shteir's  narrative.  More  than  any  other 
botanist  in  Britain  in  the  first  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  Bindley  linked  what 
might  be  called  professional  botany, 
polite  middle-  and  upper-class  amateur 
botany,  and  gardeners  and  horticultur- 
ists. He  is  still  remembered  for  his  work 
on  orchids  (the  recently  founded  orchid 
lournal,  Lindleyana,  attests  to  this),  and 
he  was  closely  associated  with  the 
Horticultural  Society  for  almost  his 
entire  working  life.  However,  his  activi- 
ties seem  almost  contradictory.  Shteir 
notes  both  that  Bindley  attempted  to  res- 
cue professional  botany  from  women  yet 
at  the  same  time  in  his  copious  writings, 
perhaps  most  notably  his  Ladies’ 
Botany,  or  a Familiar  Introduction 
to  the  Study  of  the  Natural  System 
in  Botany  of  1834-1837,  he  introduced 
the  natural  system  to  popular  audiences 
in  general  and  women  in  particular. 
Furthermore,  David  Mabberley,  in  his 
recent  biography  of  the  great  botanist 
Robert  Brown,  tends  to  dismiss  Findley's 
efforts,  suggesting  that  Bindley  "tamed"  botany, 
making  it  palatable  to  Victorian  England — 
"Floras  had  to  be  written.  Science  left  by  the 
back  door."^  Robert  Brown  had  taken  the  lead  in 
the  introduction  of  a classification  system  that 
reflected  ideas  of  nature  to  British  professional 
circles  barely  a generation  before  Bindley  wrote 
his  book,  and  Brown's  achievements  inform 
Mabberley's  judgment.  But  in  an  anecdote 
recounted  by  Shteir,  we  find  Bindley,  holed  up 
in  his  summer  house  on  a rainy  day  with  family 
and  visitors,  forced  to  play  indoor  games,  and 
indisposed  to  start  botanical  conversations  with 
the  botanical  author  Mary  Kirby.  The  author  of 
Ladies’  Botany  is  here  not  even  a popularizer  of 
botany,  although  the  conditions  for  any  sort 
of  botanical  tete-a-tete  on  that  occasion  would 
seem  hardly  ideal. 

The  place  of  women  in  society  was  not  static, 
and  Jane  Loudon  changed  the  title  of  Botany  for 


Book  Essay  11 


Ladies  (1842)  to  Modern  Botany  (1851).  Shteir 
suggests  that  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth 
century  "women's  spaces  disappeared  as  the  site 
of  [hotanical]  science"  with  the  disappearance  of 
books  written  specifically  for  them.  Shteir  links 
this  change  to  changing  ideas  of  education — 
women's  and  men's  education  should  not  differ. 
However,  even  by  Shteir's  own  telling,  women 
had  never  been  more  than  marginal  contributors 
to  the  masculine,  professional  world  of  botani- 
cal science,  however  defined;  they  did  contrib- 
ute to  a broader  science  culture,  but  very  little 
to  then-current  classification  systems.  And  in 
the  last  two  chapters  we  find  women  later  in  the 
nineteenth  century  still  very  active  in  botany,  as 
illustrators,  collectors,  and  writers,  but  mostly 
of  juvenile  or  general  popular  literature. 

Shteir  shows  clearly  that  there  were  several 
groups  of  people  interested  in  botany  in  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century.  (She  also 
mentions  the  work  of  Anne  Secord  on  British 
artisan  botanists — another  semi-independent 
community  of  botanical  devotees  with  their 
own  particular  interests  and  customs.)  We  can 
relate  these  groups  to  the  equally  diverse  ways 
in  which  zoology,  natural  history,  and  in  par- 
ticular, botany  were  perceived.  Bindley  wasn't 
jumping  into  a field  dominated  by  women,-  pro- 
fessional botany,  which  at  that  time  in  England 
was  largely  synonymous  with  systematic  stud- 
ies, was  dominated  by  men.  But  there  is  guilt 
by  association — women  and  plants,  especially 
flowers,  were  connected  in  the  public  mind^ — 
and  thus  he  wanted  to  disassociate  women  from 
the  philosophical  botany  that  he  considered 
most  exciting.  Yet  philosophical  botany  itself 
was  not  botany  toute  courte,  as  Sir  J.  E.  Smith 
himself  acknowledged  in  his  opening  address  to 
the  fledgling  Linnean  Society  in  1798  and  as 
Smith's  and  Lindley's  contemporaries  such  as 
Lamarck  and  the  great  Swiss  botanist  Alphonse 
de  Candolle  also  made  clear.  Similarly,  the 
Victorians  for  whom  Bindley  "tamed"  botany 
were  a rather  different  group  of  people  from 
those  for  whom  Brown  wrote  earlier  in  the  cen- 
tury, and  both  are  different  from  Secord's  artisan 
botanists.  Some  of  the  contradictions  noted 
above  disappear. 

Indeed,  throughout  the  century,  botany  as  a 
science  remained  almost  synonymous  with 


classification  studies,  and  botany  in  the  eyes  of 
the  public  remained  associated  with  women  and 
flowers.  In  1895  John  Merle  Coulter,  a major 
figure  in  the  introduction  of  Lindley's  philo- 
sophical botany  (in  its  late  nineteenth-century 
garb)  into  the  United  States  wrote,  "recom- 
mended especially  to  ladies  as  a harmless  pas- 
time ...  it  [botany]  was  an  emasculated  science, 
which  regarded  merely  the  cut  of  the  clothes 
rather  than  the  man  beneath.  In  spite  of  the  sub- 
sequent revelation  of  the  botanical  man,  the 
capacity  of  plants  for  usefulness  in  the  domain 
of  aestheticism  still  brands  botany  in  certain 
quarters  as  an  emotion  rather  than  a study  . . . 
But  the  botanical  man  has  been  liberated,  and 
his  virile  strength  is  becoming  daily  more 
evident.'"* 

Coulter  may  have  thought  the  virility  of 
botany  (and  he  did  not  mean  classificatory 
botany)  was  self-evident;  he  certainly  acknowl- 
edged, albeit  unwittingly,  "the  pervasive  factor 
of  gender  in  shaping  the  scientist,  science 
education,  and  science  writing,"  to  quote  Ann 
Shteir  in  the  Epilogue. 

If  in  this  review  I have  taken  a rather  nar- 
rower view  of  botany-as-science,  and  of  botany 
itself,  than  Shteir  does  in  her  admirable  hook, 
it  is  because  I find  this  the  easiest  way  to  work 
towards  the  much-needed  "broader  conversa- 
tion about  the  culture  of  botany" — again 
quoting  the  Epilogue — by  emphasizing  its  sub- 
cultures. Both  views  are  essential  if  we  are  to 
understand  where  botany  stands  at  the  end  of 
the  twentieth  century. 

Endnotes 

' Shteir,  30-31. 

^ D.  Mabberley,  Jupiter  botanicus:  Robert  Brown  of 
the  British  Musuem  (Braunschweig;  J.  Cramer, 
1985),  399. 

^ Jack  Goody's  recent  The  Culture  of  Flowers 
(Cambridge:  Cambridge  University  Press,  1993) 
discusses  this. 

* The  Botanical  Outlook  (Lincoln:  University  of 
Nebraska  Press),  4. 


Peter  Stevens  is  professor  of  botany  at  Harvard 
University  and  author  of  The  Development  of  Biological 
Systematics:  Antoine-Laurent  de  fussieu.  Nature,  and 
the  Natural  System,  published  by  Columbia  University 
Press  in  1994. 


28  Ainoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


Arnold  Arboretum  Weather  Station  Data  — 1996 


Avg. 

Max. 

Temp. 

(°F) 

Avg. 

Min. 

Temp. 

(°F) 

Avg. 

Temp. 

(°F) 

Max. 

Temp. 

(°F) 

Min. 

Temp. 

(°F) 

Precipi- 

tation 

(in.) 

Snow- 

fall 

(in.) 

JAN 

35 

18 

27 

58 

-2 

7.51 

39.6 

FEB 

37 

20 

29 

58 

-6 

3.05 

17.3 

MAR 

44 

24 

34 

63 

4 

3.78 

20 

APRIL 

57 

38 

48 

83 

29 

5.93 

8 

MAY 

69 

46 

58 

93 

31 

3.96 

0 

JUNE 

81 

58 

70 

92 

45 

1.87 

0 

JULY 

83 

61 

72 

93 

54 

5.45 

0 

AUG 

83 

62 

73 

97 

56 

2.17 

0 

SEPT 

72 

54 

63 

90 

41 

9.05 

0 

OCT 

64 

40 

52 

77 

29 

13.18 

0 

NOV 

47 

30 

39 

71 

16 

2.68 

2.3 

DEC 

45 

30 

38 

61 

17 

4.35 

2.7 

Average  Maximum  Temperature 

60° 

Average  Minimum  Temperature 

40° 

Average  Temperature 

50° 

Total  Precipitation 

62.98  inches 

Total  Snowfall 

89.9  inches 

Warmest  Temperature 

97°  on  August  7 

Coldest  Temperature 

-6°  on  February  5 

Date  of  Last  Spring  Frost 

31°  on  May  13 

Date  of  First  Fall  Frost 

32°  on  October  5 

Growing  Season 

144  days 

Note:  According  to  state  climatologist  R.  Lautzenheiser,  1996  was  an  extremely  wet  year  with  temperatures 
slightly  below  normal  and  sunshine  well  below  normal.  This  was  the  ninth  wettest  year  on  record.  January,  July, 
and  September  were  double  the  norm  for  precipitation,  while  October  was  triple  the  norm.  The  9.99  inches  that 
accumulated  in  October  from  the  19th  to  the  22nd  was  the  second  greatest  rainfall  on  record  and  is  considered  a 
hundred-year  storm. 

The  snowfall  totaled  89.9  inches,  which  is  more  than  double  the  past  average  for  the  year.  This  was  due  to  the 
glut  of  snow  that  fell  early  in  the  year.  At  year's  end,  the  new  snow  season  had  brought  less  than  normal  snow. 
January  broke  the  snow  record  for  that  month,  and  it  was  the  second  snowiest  month  recorded  in  106  years.  Only 
fifty  percent  of  possible  sunshine  was  measured,  down  four  percentage  points  from  the  average. 


Index  to  Volume  56  (1996) 

Numbers  in  parentheses  refer  to  issues,  those  in  boldface  to  illustrations  of  the  entries. 


Acer  palmatum  (2):  17 

— platanoides  (1):  16;  (2):  27 

— pseudoplatanus  (2):  19 

— rubrum  (1);  16 

— saccharum  {\]:  16 
Actinidia,  bower  (2):  13 
Actinidia  (2):  30 

— arguta  (2):  13,  17,  31 
Akebia  quinata  (2):  24 
Alder  (3):  16 

— red  (3):  8 

Alexander,  John  111,  "Would  a Lilac 
by  Any  Other  Name  Smell  So 
Sweet?  A Search  for  Fragrance" 

(1):  25-28 
Allee  (2):  10 

Allyn,  Abigail  Bradford  (4):  17-21, 

23 

Almond,  flowering  (2):  25 
Alnus  rubra  (3):  8 
Alston,  Charles  (4):  19 
Alyssum,  sweet  (2):  18 
Ames,  Blanche  Ames,  drawing  by 
(1):9 

Ancient  forests  (4);  2-3,  4-9 
Andersen,  Phyllis,  "Art  and  Nature 
in  a Garden:  Book  Review"  (1): 
29-32;  "Lives  of  New  England 
Gardens:  Book  Review"  (3):  26-28 
Andromeda,  mountain  (2):  28 
Arbutus,  trailing  (3):  16 
Aristolochia  macrophylla  (2):  13,  30 
Arnold  Arboretum  (1):  2,  4,  22-23, 
25;  (2):  4,  9,  28,  31,  32-37;  (3]:  15, 
21,  25 

lilac  display  (1):  back  cover 

scale  model  (3):  inside  front 

cover 

Arnold  Arboretum  Weather  Station 
Data— 1996  (4):  28 
"Art  and  Nature  in  a Garden:  Book 
Review,"  Phyllis  Andersen  (1): 
29-32 

Aruncus  dioicus  (2):  25 
Ash  (3):  15 

— green  (1):  21 

— white  (2):  30 
Aspen,  quaking  (3|:  9 
Aster  (2):  24 
Azalea  (2):  25 

— swamp  (3):  16 

Balick,  Michael  J.  (2):  38-39 
Bamboos  (2):  25 
Barberry,  common  (2):  24,  25 
Bartram,  William  (3):  4,  8 


Basswood  (3):  15 
Bayberry  (3):  9 
Beal,  F.  E.  (3):  6 
Beecher,  Catherine  (2|:  7 
Begonias,  tuberous  (2):  18 
Berberis  vulgaris  (2):  24 
Betula  populifolia  (3):  9 
Biltmore,  NC  (2):  12 
Birch  (3):  15 

— gray  (3):  9 
Bittersweet  (3):  16 

— American  (2):  13 
Blackberry  vines  (2):  16 
Blueberry  (3):  9,  16 
Borers  (1):  21 

Boston  ivy  (2):  13,  30 
Boston  park  system  (2):  4,  7,  12 
Botanic  Garden,  Kiev  ( 1 ):  5 
Boxwood  (2):  10 

Bradford  [Ripley],  Sarah  Alden  (4): 

17,  18-21,  23-24 
Bradford,  Gamaliel  (4):  18 
Brambles,  double  flowering  (2):  24 

— dwarf  (2):  24 

Broadmoor  Audubon  Sanctuary, 
Natick,  MA  (1):  12-13 
Brookline,  MA  |2):  3-4,  21,  26 
Buddhist  shrine  (1):  14 
Buffalo-herry  (2):  25 
"Bulldozers  and  Bacteria:  The 
Ecology  of  Sweet  Fern,"  Peter  Del 
Tredici  (3):  2-1 1 
Buttonbush  (3):  16 

Callaham,  Dale  (3):  7 
Calycanthus  floridus  (2):  25 
Cambridge  Botanic  Garden,  Harvard 
University  (2):  9 
Canopy  decline  (1):  16,  18-19 
Carya  illinoensis  (2):  24 
Case  Estates,  Weston,  MA  (1):  10- 
11,  25 

Ceanothus  americanus  (2):  25 
Cedar,  northern  white  (4):  5,  7 

— red  (3):  9;  (4):  3,  8 
Celtis  occidentalis  (2):  24 
Central  Park  [NY]  (2):  7,  9,  13 
Cercis  canadensis  (1):  21 
Chaenomeles  japonica  (2):  25 
Chestnut,  American  (3):  15 
Clark,  Sandra,  "When  the  Roots  Go 

Round  and  Round"  with  Gary  W. 
Watson  (1):  15-21 
Celastrus  scandens  (2):  13 
Clematis  (2):  24;  (3):  16 
Clethra  alnifolia  (2):  12,  25 


Colaptes  auratus  (3):  6 
Colden,  Jane  (4):  1 7 
Columella  ( 1 ):  7 

Comptonia  peregrina  (3):  2-11,  5,  7, 

8,  10 

Concord,  MA  (3):  3,  5,  10;  (4):  24 
Connecticut  College  Arboretum 
(3):  9 

Cornelian  cherry  (1):  2-7,  4,  5;  (2): 

25 

cultivars  ( 1 ):  5 

cultivation  (1):  6 

harvest  and  use  ( 1 ):  6 

propagation  ( 1 ):  6 

"Cornelian  Cherry:  From  the  Shores 
of  Ancient  Greece,"  Lee  Reich  jl): 
2-7 

Cornus  florida  (2):  16 

— mas  (1):  2-7;  (2):  25 
'Flava'  (1):  4,  5,  6 

— sanguinea  (1):  6 

— sericea  (2):  24 
Cotoneaster,  small-leaved  (2):  25 
Cotoneaster  microphylla  (2):  24 
Cottonwood  (2):  22 
Cottonwood  Vista,  Gwinn  [OH]  (1): 

inside  back  cover 
Cox,  Paul  Alan  (2):  38-39 
Crataegus  (2):  24 

— crus-galli  (2):  24 
Creech,  John  (3):  21,  25 
Cronartium  comptoniae  (3):  9 
Crossdating  (4|:  4 

Crown  dieback  (4|:  4 
Currant,  Missouri  (2):  25 
Cypress,  bald  (4):  inside  back  cover, 
6,  7 

— pond  (4):  4 

Cypripedium  acaule  (1):  inside  front 
cover,  8,  9,  10-13 

Dana  Greenhouses  (2|:  31,  37 
Daphne,  Mezereon  (2):  25 
Daphne  cneorum  (2):  25 

— mezereum  (2):  25 
Darwin,  Erasmus  (4|:  18 
Del  Rosso,  John  (1):  23 

Del  Tredici,  Peter,  photos  hy  (1): 
front  cover;  (2):  inside  front  cover; 
"Bulldozers  and  Bacteria:  The 
Ecology  of  Sweet  Fern";  (3)  2-11; 
photos  by  front  cover;  (4)  front 
and  back  covers 
Dendrochronology  (4):  2,  4,  7 
Dennstaedtia  punctilobula  (2):  16 
Deutzia  (2):  9 


30  Arnoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


Deutzia  gracilis  (2):  25 

— scabia  (2):  24 
Diervilla  sessilifolia  (2):  25 
Dogwood  ( 1 1:  3 

— red-twigged  (2):  24,  25 
Douglass,  Andrew  E.  (4);  3-4 
Downing,  A.  J.  (2):  5 
Drainage  (4):  13 

Drought  stress  (4):  11-12 
"Dugout  Canoes,  Arrow  Poisons, 
and  the  Cure  for  Cancer:  Book 
Review,"  Todd  Forrest  (2):  38-40 
Dutch  elm  disease  (1):  15,  21;  (2):  30 
Dutchman's  pipe  (2|:  13,  30 
Duxbury  [MA]  (4):  17-19 

Egler,  Frank  (3):  9 
Elm  (3):  15 

— American  (1):  15,  21,  31;  (2):  front 
cover,  6,  24,  26,  30;  (3):  15 

— Wahoo  (2):  24 

Emmet,  Alan,  "A  Park  and  Garden 
in  Vermont:  Olmsted  and  the 
Wehhs  at  Shelburne  Farms  (3):  12- 
20 

Epigaea  repens  (3):  16 
Establishment  after  transplanting 
(4):  14-16 

Ethnohotany  (2):  38-40 
Euonymus  fortune!  var.  radicans  (2): 
13,  30 

Fairsted,  Brookline  |MA]  (2):  front 
cover,  inside  back  cover,  back 
cover,  2-20,  8,  13,  17,  19;  26-31, 

27,  30 

— Hollow  (2):  6,  7,  9,  12-13; 
planting  plan,  14-15,  16,  17;  27- 

28,  29 

— plan  (2):  6 

— rock  garden  (2):  6,  9,  12,  27 
"Fairsted:  A Landscape  as  Olmsted's 

Looking  Glass,"  Mac  Griswold 
(2):  2-20 

Fern,  hay-scented  (2):  16 
Fig  (2):  25 

— Indian  (2):  24 
Fir,  balsam  (3):  15 

— Douglas  (3):  16;  (4):  8 
Flicker,  yellow-shafted  (3):  6 
Folk  medicine  (1):  7 
Forests,  ancient  (4):  2-3,  4-9 
Forrest,  Todd,  "Nature's  Relentless 

Onslaught,  Redux"  (1):  22-24; 
"Dugout  Canoes,  Arrow  Poisons, 
and  the  Cure  for  Cancer:  Book 
Review"  (2):  38-40 
Forsythia  (2):  25 
Forsythia  suspensa  (2):  24 
Fragrance  [lilacs]  (1):  25-28 
Frankia  (3):  4,  8 
Fraxinus  americana  (2|:  30 


— pennsylvanica  (1):  21 
Fungi,  soil  ( 1 ):  9 

Furlong,  John,  photos  by  (2):  front 
cover,  inside  back  cover 

Gallagher,  Percival  (2):  9 
Garden  and  Forest  (2):  21 
Gardenia  (3|:  16 

Gardens,  New  England  (3):  26-28 

Gerard  [John]  ( 1 ):  3 

Girdling  root  formation  (1):  15-17, 

18 

Goatsbeard  spirea  (2):  25 
Golden-rain  tree  (2):  32-37 
Goldenrod  (2):  24 
Goodwin,  Joan  W.,  "A  Kind  of 
Botanic  Mania"  (4|:  17-24 
Grape,  wild  (3):  16 
Gray,  Asa  (4):  23 

Greenough,  Mrs.  Henry  V.,  garden 
(2):  11 

Griswold,  Mac,  "Fairsted:  A 
Landscape  as  Olmsted's  Looking 
Glass"  (2):  2-20 
Growth  rings  (4):  3-4,  10 
Guyette,  Richard  R,  drawings  by  (4): 
7-9 

Gwinn  [OH]  (1):  inside  back  cover, 

29-32 

— plan  of  ( 1 ):  30 

Hall,  Pamela  (1):  12 
Hammond  Woods,  Newton,  MA  (1): 
10-11,  13-14 

Hand  pollination  (1):  10,  11,  12 
Harrison,  Jim,  photo  by  (3):  inside 
front  cover 

Harvard  Botanic  Garden  (4):  19,  22, 
23 

plans  for  (4):  22 

Harvard  Forest  (3|:  4 
Harvard  [College]  (4):  17,  22 
Harvard,  school  of  landcape  design 

(2) :  9 

Hedera  helix  (2):  back  cover,  13,  30 
Heidelberg,  Castle  of  [Germany] 
(1):3 

Hemlock  (2):  27;  (3):  15 
Hickory  (3):  15 
Honeysuckle  (2):  23 

— bush  (2):  25 

— Japan  |2):  24 

Hunnewell  garden,  Wellesley,  MA 

(3) :  27 

Ibbotson,  Agnes  (4):  25-26 
Ilex  glabra  (2):  12 
Inkberry  (2):  12 

Inyo  National  Forest,  CA  (4):  4,  7 
Iris  (2):  16,  18 

"Itea  'Beppu':  The  Return  of  the 
Native,"  Peter  M.  Mazzeo  and 


Donald  H.  Voss  (3):  21-25 
Itea  ilicifolia  (3):  21 

— japonica  (3):  21,  24,  25 

— virginica  (3):  21,  22-23,  24-25 

'Beppu'  (3):  21,  23-24,  25 

'Henry's  Garnet'  (3):  21 

— yunnanensis  (3):  21 
Ivy,  English  (2):  13,  16,  30 

— Japanese  (2):  24 

Jacques,  George  (1):  32 
Jacques,  Lillie  (1):  32 
Jardins  des  Plantes  (4):  22 
Johnson,  Edward  (3):  3 
Josselyn,  John  (3):  4 
Juniper  (2):  21 

Juniperus  virginiana  (3):  9;  (4):  3,  8 

Kahn,  Peter  (3):  4 
Kalinia  latifolia  (2):  16 
Karson,  Robin  (1):  29-32 
Kimball,  Theodora,  photo  by  (2): 
back  cover 

"Kind  of  Botanic  Mania,"  Joan  W. 

Goodwin  (4):  17-24 
Kitt,  Greenwood  (2):  16 
Klimenko,  Svetlana  (1):  5 
Koehler,  Hans  J.  (2):  16,  17,  18 
Koelreuteria  bipinnata  (2):  34-35 

— paniculata  (2|:  33,  35 

'Rose  Lantern'  (2):  inside  front 

cover,  32-37,  35 

'September'  (2):  32-37 

Roller,  Gary  (3):  21,  25 

Lake  Champlain  (3):  12-13,  15,  18 
Landscape  architecture,  profession 
of  (2):  17 

Laurel,  sheep  (2):  16 
Leucothoe,  drooping  (2):  28 
Leucothoe  fontanesiana  (2):  28 
Ligustrum  vulgare  (2):  24 
Lilac  (1):  25-28;  (2):  9,  25 

— arch  1 1 ):  32 

— Beauty  of  Moscow  (1):  front  cover 

— display  [Arnold  Arboretum]  (1): 
back  cover 

Lilies  |2|:  15,  16 
Lilium  CVS.  (2):  15 

— speciosum  'Album'  (2):  15,  16 
Lindera  benzoin  (2):  24 
Lindley,  John  (4):  26-27 
Linnaean  classification  system  (4): 

17-18 

Linnaeus,  Carolus  (3):  3-4;  (4):  17- 
22 

Linnaeus,  Elizabeth  Christina  (4):  17 
Linnea  borealis  (3):  16 
"Lives  of  New  England  Gardens: 
Book  Review,"  Phyllis  Andersen 
(3):  26-28 

Lonicera  iaponica  'Halliana'  (2):  24 


Index  31 


Loudon,  Jane  (2|:  7;  (4): 

Loudon,  Jolin  Claudius  (1):  3 
Lycium  barb  arum  (2):  24 

Magnolia,  cucumber  (2):  6,  28 
Magnolia  acuminata  (2):  28 

— zenii  (1):  23 
Mahonia,  Japanese  (2):  25 
Mahonia  aquifolium  (2):  25 

— japonica  (2):  25 
Manning,  Warren  (1):  29,  31-32; 

(2):  9 

Maple,  Japanese  (2):  27 

— Norway  (1|:  15,  16-19,  20,  21;  (2); 
27 

— red(l);  16,  18 

— sugar  (1):  16,  18 

Marcli,  Sylvester  G.  (2):  32-34 
Marr,  T.  E.,  photos  by  (1):  back 
cover;  (3|:  17,  18 
Marshall,  Humphrey  (3):  4 
Martyn,  Thomas  (4):  17 
Maskirch,  Chateau  of  [Germany] 

(1) ;3 

Massachusetts  Society  for  Promot- 
ing Agriculture  (4):  22 
Mather,  Elizabeth  Ireland  (1):  30,  32 
Mather,  William  (1):  29-30,  32 
Matrimony  vine  (2):  24 
Mazzeo,  Peter  M.,  "Itea  'Beppu': 
The  Return  of  the  Native"  with 
Donald  H.  Voss  (3):  21-25 
McAllister,  A.  A.,  photos  by  (3):  19 
McArdle,  Alice  J.  (2):  34 
McDaniel,  Joseph  C.  (2):  32-34 
Meadowsweet  (3):  9 
Meier,  Lauren,  "Notes  on  Restoring 
the  Woody  Plants  at  Fairsted"  (2): 
26-31 

Metasequoia  (1):  22-23 
Meyer,  Frederick  G.  (2):  33-34 
Mockorange  (2):  25 
Mount  Auburn  Cemetery  (2):  9 
Mt.  Prospect,  IL  (1]:  15-18,  21 
"Multitude  of  Botanies:  Book 
Essay,"  Peter  Stevens  (4):  25-27 
Myrica  pensylvanica  (2):  25;  (3):  9 

National  Arboretum  (2):  32-36;  (3): 
21 

National  Park  Service  (2):  18,  16-17 
"Nature's  Relentless  Onslaught, 
Redux,"  Todd  Forrest  (1):  22-24 
Nettle  tree  (2):  24 
Nitrogen  fixation  (3):  4-5,  7-8 
Nitrogen-fixing  bacteria  (3):  3 
"Notes  on  Restoring  the  Woody 
Plants  at  Fairsted,"  Lauren  Meier 

(2) :  26-31 

Oak  (3):  15 

— chestnut  (4):  5 


— ovcrcup  (4):  6 

— post  (4|:  inside  front  cover,  5 

— red(l):21;  22-23 

— white  (4):  5 

— wilt  ( 1 ):  21 
Oleander  (2):  25 
Oliver,  Daniel  (3):  24 

Olmsted  Brothers  (2):  3,  1 1-12,  27 
Olmsted  Center  for  Landscape 
Preservation  (2):  31 
Olmsted,  Frederick  Law  (1):  31;  (2): 
2-20,  5,  7;  "Plan  for  a Small 
Homestead  (1888),"  21-25;  26-31; 

(3):  12-16,  17 

Olmsted,  Frederick  Law,  National 
Historic  Site  (2):  27-29 
Olmsted,  John  (1);  23;  (2):  5,  7; 

photos  by,  7,  8,  16,  18;  (3|:  14 
Olmsted,  Jr.,  Frederick  Law  (2):  5, 

17,  18 

Olmsted,  Marion  (2):  5 
Olmsted,  Mary  Perkins  (2):  5,  18 
Opuntia  (2):  24 
Orchid,  pink  lady's  slipper  (1): 

inside  front  cover,  8,  9,  10-13 
Oregon  grape  (2):  25 
Ovid  (1):  3 

Pachysandra  (2):  18 
"Park  and  Garden  in  Vermont: 
Olmsted  and  the  Webbs  at 
Shelburne  Farms,"  Alan  Emmet 

(3):  12-20 

Parkinson,  John  (1):  7 
Parthenocissus  (2):  back  cover 

— quinquefolia  (2):  12,  23,  30 

— tiicuspidata  (2):  13,  30 

'Veitchii'  (2):  24 

Pecan  (2):  24 

Peck,  William  Dandridge  (4):  19-21, 
22 

Peony  (2):  18 
Phelps,  Almira  (4):  17 
Philadelphus  (2):  25 
Picea,  trunk  sections  (4):  15 

— pungens  (3):  16 
Pieris  floribunda  (2):  28 
Pilat,  Ignaz  (2):  13 
Pine  (3):  15 

— bristlecone  (4):  4,  7 

radial  section  (4):  front  and 

back  covers 

— jack  (3):  9 

— lohlolly  (3):  9 

— pitch  (3):  9;  (4):  5-6 

— Ponderosa  (4):  3 

— shortleaf  (3):  9 

— white  (3):  6 

Pinus  aristata,  radial  section  (4): 
front  and  back  covers 

— banksiana  (3):  9 

— echinata  (3):  9 


— longaeva  (4):  4,  7 

— ponderosa  (4):  3 

— rigida  (3):  9;  (4):  5-6 

— strobus  (3):  6 

— taeda  (3):  9 

"Plan  for  a Small  Homestead 
(1888),"  Frederick  Law  Olmsted 

(2) :  21-25 

Planting  site  preparation  (4):  12-13, 
16 

Platt,  Charles  (1):  29,  31;  (2):  10 
Pliny  (1):  4 
PlutarcJi  (1):  6 

Populus  monilifera  (1):  inside  back 
cover 

— tremuloides  (3):  9 

Potter,  J.  S.,  grounds,  Arlington,  MA 

(3) :  inside  back  cover,  28 
Primack,  Mark,  photo  by  (1):  inside 

front  cover 

Primack,  Richard,  "Science  and 
Serendipity:  The  Lady's  Slipper 
Project"  (1):  8-14 
Pringle  and  Horsford,  nursery  (3): 
15-16 

Privet,  common  (2):  24 
Prunus  triloba  (2):  25 
Pseudotsuga  menziesii  (3):  16 
Pyracantha  coccinea  (2):  24 

Quercus  alba  (4):  5 

— lyrata  (4):  6 

— prinus  (4):  5 

— rubrum  ( 1 ):  21 

— stellata  (4):  inside  front  cover,  5,  7 
Quince,  Japanese  (2):  25 

Raspberry,  hlack  and  red  (3):  16 
Redbud  (1):  21 

Reich,  Lee,  "Cornelian  Cherry: 

From  the  Shores  of  Ancient 
Greece"  (1):  2-7 
Rhizobium  (3):  4 
Rhododendron  maximum  (2):  28 
Rhododendron  (2):  16,  25,  27;  (3):  16 

— roselray  (2):  28 
Rhus  (3):  9 

— aromatica  (2):  24 

— typhina  (2):  12 
Ribes  odoratum  (2):  25 
Robertson,  R.  H.  (3):  13-15,  18 
Romero,  Gustavo,  photo  by  (3):  back 

cover 

Root  crowns  (1):  17-18 

— flare  (1):  21 

— growth  (4):  12-16 

— loss  as  a result  of  transplanting 

(4) :  14,  16 

— system  (4):  11-12,  14-15 
Roots,  girdling  (1):  15-19,  20-21 
frequency  of  in  relation  to 

planting  depth  (1):  21 


32  Arnoldia  1996-1997  Winter 


— primary  (1):  17-19 

— secondary  (1):  17-18 

— tertiary  (1):  17-18 
Rosa  multifloia  (2):  12 

— spinosissima  (2):  12 

— vuginiana  (2):  12 
Rose  (2):  24,  25 

— rambler  |2):  18 

— Scotch  Briar  (2):  12 

— shrub  (2):  12 

— tea  (3):  16 

— wild  (3):  16 

"'Rose  Lantern':  A New  Cultivar  of 
Koeheuteiia  paniculata,  the 
Golden-Rain  Tree,"  Frank  S. 
Santamour,  Jr.,  and  Stephen  A. 
Spongberg  (2):  32-37 
Rose  of  Sharon  (2):  9 
Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques  (4):  17 
Rubus  ulmifolius  'Bellidiflorus'  (2): 
24 

Salix  humilis  var.  tristis  (2):  28 
Santamour,  Jr.,  Frank  S.,  "'Rose 
Lantern':  A New  Cultivar  of 
Koeheuteiia  paniculata,  the 
Golden-Rain  Tree"  with  Stephen 
A.  Spongberg  (2):  32-37 
Sargent,  Charles  Sprague  (2):  9,  21; 
(3):  15 

Schmidt,  Franz,  illustration  by  (3):  3 
Schneider,  Camillo  (3]:  24 
Schulman,  Edmund  (4):  4 
Schultes,  Richard  Evans  (2):  38 
"Science  and  Serendipity:  The 
Lady's  Slipper  Project,"  Richard 
Primack  (1):  8-14 

Shelburne  harms  (3):  12-20,  13,  17, 
18,  19 

plan  of  (3):  14 

Shepaidia  (2):  25 

Shipman,  Ellen  (1):  29,  31-32;  (2): 

10,  11 

Smith,  James  Edward  (4):  21,  23,  26 
Snowberry  (2):  24 
Soil  modifications  (4):  12-13 
Specimen,  five-millionth,  FFarvard 
University  Herbaria  (3):  back  cover 
Spicebush  (2):  24 
Spiraea  (3):  9 

— japonica  (2):  25 

— thunbergii  (2):  25 
Spirea  (2):  25 

Spongberg,  Stephen  A.,  "'Rose 
Lantern':  A New  Cultivar  of 
Koeheuteiia  paniculata,  the 
Golden-Rain  Tree"  with  Frank  S. 
Santamour,  Jr.  (2):  32-37;  (3):  24 
Spruce,  trunk  sections  (4):  15 

— Colorado  (3):  16 


Stacy,  Elizabeth  (1):  12 
Stable,  David  W.,  "Tree  Rings  and 
Ancient  Forest  Relics"  (4):  photos 
by,  inside  front  and  back  covers, 
2-10 

Stan  Hywet,  Akron  [OH]  (2):  9 
Stevens,  Peter,  "A  Multitude  of 
Botanies:  Book  Essay"  (4):  25-27 
Sumac  (3):  9 

— staghorn  (2):  12 
Summersweet  (2):  12 
Sweet  fern  (3):  2-1 1,  5,  7,  10 

blister  rust  (3):  9 

Sweetspire  (3):  21 
Symphoricarpos  albus  (2|:  24 

— meyeri  (1):  28 

— oblata  (1):  26 
subspp.  (1|:  28 

— pubescens  (1):  25 
subspp.  |1  j:  28 

— vulgaris  (2):  25 

'Krasavitska  Moskova'  (1): 

front  cover 
CVS.  ( 1 ):  26-28 

— X chinensis  cvs.  (1):  28 

— X hyacinthiflora  cvs.  (1):  26-28 

Taxodium  distichum  (4):  inside 
back  cover,  6,  7 

var.  nutans  (4):  4 

Taxus  baccata  (2):  28 
'Repandens'  (2):  28 

— cuspidata  (2):  28 
Taylor,  Arthur  (3):  15 
Tea,  Jersey  (2):  25 

Thoreau,  Henry  David  (3):  6,  8,  10 
Thorn,  cockspur  (2):  24 

— fiery  (2):  24 
Thorns  (2):  21 

Thuja  occidentalis  (4):  5 
Torrey,  John  (3):  4-5,  7 
Transplanting  (4):  11-16,  17 

— shock  (4):  1 1 

— stress  (4):  15-16 

"Tree  Rings  and  Ancient  Forest 
Relics,"  David  W.  Stable  (4):  2-10 
"Tree  Transplanting  and  Establish- 
ment," Gary  W.  Watson  (4):  1 1-16 
Tree-ring  chronology  (4):  2,  5 

— dating  (4):  3 
Tsukamoto,  Yotaro  (3):  25 
Tulips  (2):  16 
Twinflower  (3):  16 

Ulmus  alata  (2):  24 
United  States  Department  of 
Agriculture  Station,  Glenn  Dale, 
MD  (2):  35 

United  States  National  Arboretum 
(2):  32-36;  (3):  21 


Vaccinium  angustifolium  (3):  9 

— corybosum  (3):  9 
Vanderbilt,  William  Henry  (3):  12- 

14 

Verticillium  wilt  (1):  21 
Viburnum  (3):  16 
Viburnum  dentatum  (1):  32 
Virgil  (1):  7 

Virginia  creeper  (2|:  13,  16,  23,  25, 

30 

Virginia  willow  (3|:  21 
Von  Reis,  Siri  (2):  38 
Voss,  Donald  H.,  ‘Ttea  'Beppu':  The 
Return  of  the  Native"  with  Peter 
M.  Mazzeo  (3):  21-25 

Wakefield,  Priscilla  (4):  19 
Watson,  Gary  W.,  "When  the  Roots 
Go  Round  and  Round"  with 
Sandra  Clark  (1):  15-21;  "Tree 
Transplanting  and  Establishment" 
(4):  11-16 
Waxberry  (2):  25 
Weather  (1):  22-24 
Weaver,  Jr.,  Richard  E.  (2):  32 
Webb,  Lila  Vanderbilt  (3):  12-14,  16,  • 
18-19 

Webb,  William  Seward  (3):  12-16, 
18-19 

Weigela  (2):  9,  25 
Weld  [Brookline,  MA]  (2):  10 
"When  the  Roots  Go  Round  and 
Round,"  Gary  W.  Watson  and 
Sandra  Clark  (1):  15-21 
Willow  (2):  21;  (3):  15 

— pussy  (3|:  16 

— shrub  (2):  28 

— weeping  (3):  16 
Winter-creeper,  Japanese  (2):  13 

— euonymus  (2):  30 
Wisteria  (2):  13,  23 

— Chinese  (2):  25 
Wisteria  (2):  back  cover,  30 

— sinensis  (2):  13,  17,  31 
Witch  hazel  (3):  16 

"Would  a Lilac  by  Any  Other  Name 
Smell  So  Sweet?  A Search  for 
Eragrance,"  John  Alexander  Jll  jl): 
25-28 

Wyman,  Donald  (2):  33 

Yew  (2):  18,  27 

— English  (2):  28 

— English  weeping  (2):  28 

— Japanese  (2|:  28 
Yosemite  (2):  12 

Zaitzevsky,  Cynthia  (2):  27