July 20, 1892.] 



Garden and Forest. 



339 



disfigurement. In the first plnce, Copper Beeches are trees to 

 be used singly and with the utmost cruition. At jjest, they are 

 a discord in a green landscape, which can only be made en- 

 durable by a proper resolution into harmony, and even then 

 the best authorities think we shoukl do better without them, 

 as they represent a doubtliul note. One tree of this complexion 

 edging a deep green wood is sometimes pleasing as well as 

 curious, but a stiff row of them, parallel with a row of Elms, is 

 as undesirable a feature as could well be introduced into a 

 landscape-garden. 



Some of the memorable trees of Wellesley seem also to be 

 set out in the most unfortunate positions. I was shown a tree 

 planted by Queen Emma, of the Sandwich Islands, which is so 

 near a wood tliat in two or three years it will be completely 

 overshadowed by the branches of the larger trees, and the 

 class-tree of this year is also put where it will never have a 

 chance to develop properly. It seems to me that the college 

 authorities should take the advice of some competent land- 

 scape-gardener as to what needs to be done to preserve the 

 beauty of these grounds. A cultivated and well-trained eye 

 should decide where class-trees can be planted with impunity, 

 and dictate what sorts of trees should be employed for the pur- 

 pose, and how much space should be left between them, if 

 they are to grow into handsome single specimens, and also 

 where groups can be placed with advantage so as not to inter- 

 fere with the general effect. 



The opportunities here are very great, but it is not desirable 

 to transform these park-like grounds into a meaningless mass 

 of ill-assorted trees, which do not compose well with each 

 other or create a pleasing picture. I recognize all the charm 

 of these academic shades, and realize how dear this lovely spot 

 must be to the hearts of its " sweet girl graduates," Ijut all the 

 more, it seems to me, that its future should not be left to irre- 

 sponsible planters, but that careful provision should be made 

 to preserve and enhance its beauty. As years roll on some of 

 the older trees will die ; these should be succeeded by others. 

 A careful system of forestry should prevail, by which the best 

 of the closely planted trees should be protected, and provision 

 made for proper successors to those which must in time be 

 removed. 



Above all, more open space should be preserved, as a wide 

 grassy stretch, with a view of the lake, serves to bring out the 

 groups of trees with good effect, and to increase their value in 

 the composition. A careful study of Mr. H. H. Hunnewell's 

 place, on the opposite side of this sheet of water, shows the 

 worth of knowledge of effect and a settled plan in planting. 

 There the lake is utilized to increase the beauty of the scene, 

 with enchanting results. 



From the house there are unobstructed views of its silvery 

 surface, the trees being kept when they do not interfere with 

 a satisfying sight of its broad expanse, which combines delight- 

 fully with the smooth lawns, the quaint terraces, or the rustic 

 wildnessof certain portions of the beautifid grounds. Relieved 

 against it the stately natural evergreens gain a richer majesty, 

 and it combines with the formal surfaces of the clipped Hem- 

 locks and Beeches and Pines in the topiary garden, in a way 

 that recalls memories of ancient villas of renown upon the 

 lakes of Italy, while, contrasted with its blue, the white pillars 

 of the balustrades seem of Attic value. 



Those whom its generous proprietor so freely permits to see 

 these gardens may well be grateful for a chance to know in 

 our own land some of the charm that haunts the classic 

 grounds of the old pleasure-grounds of the Colonna and the 

 Serbelloni. Whether such a sight comports with a New Eng- 

 land garden is of little moment. Are not our skies as blue, our 

 hills as softly swelling, our summer suns as hot, as those of 

 Italy? Why not, then, capture this Old World charm, this 

 strange fascination that lingers in a sight of the subduing of 

 nature to art, that suggests the pride of princes who would 

 rule all. 



I have sat for hours in the deserted gardens of Rome, where 

 once the haughty old Colonnas trod, and sought to find the se- 

 cret of the way they move one. Why do these straight ter- 

 races of clipped Yew, these formal masses of Ilex and Cypress 

 and Holly, these headless statues, and moss-grown fountains, 

 with their trickling streams and vine-wreathed lions, hold so 

 dear a charm that when one comes in New England upon 

 their semblance he must needs be thankful for this reminder 

 of a never-to-be-forgotten past ? 



I doubt if it is only the mere strangeness of this formal gar- 

 dening which so appeals to the untraveled multitude that they 

 regard it with interest and wonder ; there is something deeper 

 than that, which, I take it, is the mastery of man over nature, 

 his all-compelling hand that forces the stubborn Pines to do 

 his bidding, the wayward Hemlock to bend to his eccentric 



will. It is the humanity in it which attracts— which thrills us 

 with an odd satisfaction. This violation of law, this enslave- 

 ment of wild beauty has a relish for our perverted souls, for is 

 it not our fellow-man who has accomplished this audacity, 

 joined issue with the Creator, defied the eternal forces ? Sen- 

 sation is a complex joy ; it cannot always be resolved into its 

 elements, and it is hard to say why, on the shore of a IVIassa- 

 chusetts pond, a series of terraces planted with extraordinary 

 pyramids and umbrellas, and broad hedges and columns of 

 foliage, should be as interesting and delightful as they are 

 upon the Lakes of Como and Maggiore, where they are the 

 survival of the fashion of a by-gone day. 



Stone staircases lead one down from one level to another; 

 at the base a carriage-drive is separated from the water by one 

 of those white balustrades so familiar in Italy, upon wliich a 

 peacock ought always to be sitting and pluming his exquisite 

 feathers. Across the water the red walls of the college build- 

 ings are picturesquely gleaming through the trees, with little 

 boats moored upon the shore and their feet. Along the edge 

 of the lake winds the carriage-drive, separated from it by a 

 fringe of trees. Strolling on foot along the terraces, even as 

 one does at Isola Bella, of a sudden you find yourself in a rus- 

 tic garden, stony and wild, where small flowers bloom and Ferns 

 run over the rocks ; a winding path leads down a declivity to 

 a pavilion on the edge of the water, where you can sit and 

 look back upon the Italian garden with its strange forms of 

 Pines, clipped to imitate a series of toadstools or umbrellas 

 one above the other, of Junipers personating a pyramid, of 

 Cedars mascjuerading as gate-posts with round balls atop, of 

 rosy Beeches in square masses as unlike a tree as possible, of 

 a great wall of feathery Hemlocks with a steeple of green 

 at regular intervals along it. For forty years this quaint gar- 

 den has been planted and maintained for the delight of three 

 generations, and still affords, perhaps, the only specimen of an 

 Italian garden in this country. 



The whole of this fine estate of six hundred acres gains inter- 

 est from the fact that its present proprietor has made it what it 

 is, since 1852, from an uninteresting, flat, sandy arid plain, 

 with nothing upon it originally worth retaining except one 

 large Oak-tree, which has now attained magnificent size. The 

 skill, the patience, the unending labor necessary to evolve all 

 this beauty from such unpromising material, are forever 

 worthy of admiration. Years ago we read the account of the 

 foundation of these gardens in Mr. Henry Winthrop Sargent's 

 supplement to the sixth edition of Mr. Downing's book on 

 landscape-gardening, and were greatly heartened and cheered 

 thereby in our own feeble efforts. 



It is hard to realize that even forty years can do so much 

 for a desert, but when, seven years after its beginning, Mr. 

 Sargent wrote his account of it, the place was already note- 

 worthy and interesting. Therefore, who may not take courage 

 to persevere in humble efforts to beautify some barren spot 

 that it may be his fortune to possess ? Energy, industry and 

 delight in the work will accomplish wonders, and if any feel 

 discouraged let them come here and look about upon these 

 lofty evergreens in the Pinetum, raised from seed, these stately 

 Oaks and Magnolias and Maples that have grown beneath 

 their planter's eye to their present proud proportions, and then 

 sow his seed, and set out his tree with undaunted faith that 

 he shall live to reap the fruit of his labors and sit beneath the 

 shadow of his plantation while he is yet hale and vigorous. 



Not all of us can give to our nurslings the assiduous care 

 and generous treatment that Mr. Hunnewell accords (o his, but 

 we may well bestow upon one tree the attention that he has 

 awarded to thousands, and from that one win a proportional 

 satisfaction. Enjoyment, luckily, can be elicited from one 

 acre as well as from a thousand ; possibly a concentration of 

 interest upon a limited field may bring in an increased return 

 of satisfaction. So far as my experience goes, the small 

 planter has the same joys and sorrows as the large one ; it is 

 merely a difference of scale. In his one Water-lily in a mud- 

 hole, the former may have the same emotions as the latter in 

 a Victoria regia brought to blossom in an elaborate tank with 

 infinite care and pains. The reward, after all, is success in the 

 undertaking, be it great or small. This lesson learned, happi- 

 ness is within our grasp. Seek the attainable, and no man 

 need be unhappy. If you have room for one Oak, plant your 

 acorn and watch its growth — it is the epitome of a park. Plant 

 your little wood-lot with Pines or Nuts, and cherish the seed- 

 lings, you master the lesson of the forest. Work with shrubs 

 if you have no room for trees, with flowers if the space be too 

 limited for shrubs, and from the results achieved will come 

 delight in mastering difficulties, new knowledge, fresh desires, 

 a hearty homely interest in the world about you, a link of sym- 

 pathy with every son of Adam, who, from the lucky fall of that 



