August 17, 1892.] 



Garden and Forest. 



387 



pencil of the artist ; as a whole tliey admirably illustrate the 

 variant types of the species. 



"Southward of the kame the photographer finds a marvelous 

 theme in a shallow pool beset with Asters and tall grasses. At 

 the water's edge, an inverted Oak, the solitary Swamp White 

 Oak (O. Ijicolor) of the group, stretches downward to an in- 

 verted sky. Five feet from the ground it measures twelve 

 (eet six inches in circumference ; its height is sixty-five feet. 

 Although this Oak, as well as its neighbors, fruits freely, there 

 are no middle-aged or young trees. Were their successors 

 ready to take the place of the failing veterans a part of the fine 

 impressiveness of the scene would be lost. . . . 



" It has always been a source of wonder how these trees es- 

 caped the ship-builders of Medford, to whom the big Oaks in 

 their vicinity, one after another, fell victims, at a time, too, 

 when the Middlesex Canal was transporting ship-timber that 

 had been floated down the Merrimac from the remote wilds of 

 New Hampshire. It is thought that a dispute with regard to 

 ownership, the details of which are not definitely known, had 

 something to do with their preservation at tliis critical period. 



" The age of these trees, some of them apparently in tliefull 

 vigor of their maturity, otliers lightly touched liy tinie, some 

 failing into decrepitude, who shall tell .' The trees from time 

 to time prostrated by the wind have been found to be hollow. 

 Agassiz, it is said, roughly estimated the age of one of these 

 at a thousand years. If the rings are to be taken in evidence, 

 a more conclusive judgment is attainable. Some forty-five 

 years ago one of the smaller Oaks was cut down, probably to 

 assert ownership, and the rings, which were counted by Mr. 

 Lowell, numbered over 750. In the light of this revelation 

 Agassiz's estimate comes quite within the range of probability. 

 The largest, and presumably the oldest, of the group may well 

 have sheltered Leif Ericsson beneath its branches, and must 

 have been at its best when Columbus rediscovered America. 

 It stands upon the northern slope of the kame, is about fifty 

 feet high, and measures, five feet from the ground, eighteen 

 feet seven and a half inches in circumference, enlarging to 

 some twenty-eight feet over the swell of the roots. It throws 

 out at broad angles huge irregular branches ; one enormous 

 limb, the strength of whose mortising is the architects' won- 

 der, pushes northward more than fifty feet. It was once much 

 longer, perhaps twenty feet, when the mighty trunk, working 

 to its full capacity, sent the life-giving sap to the remotest twigs. 



" A huge stump marks the site of a whilom neighbor of this 

 Oak, a great Buttonwood, admired by our fathers. Its pros- 

 trate forks still lie along the stream. Tlieold Elm, conspicuous 

 from the highway, is now a picturesque ruin, while the Oak, 

 which has already outlived three or four generations of But- 

 tonwoods and Elms, has in it the promise of decades of life." 



These Waverley Oaks have long had a place strong in the 

 aflections of the people here, and are a favorite resort for 

 many lovers of nature. The poet Lowell, in particular, was 

 strongly attached to them. The proposition to secure their 

 preservation for public enjoyment dates something like twenty 

 years back. Some of the painters connected with the Boston 

 Art Club then urged their purchase by that institution as a 

 sketching-ground for Boston artists, as Fontainebleau serves 

 for Paris. Fontainebleau, however, is not comparable with 

 the Waverley Oaks in any of the elements of landscape-beauty. 



An effort was recently made to secure the place for the Trus- 

 tees of Public Reservations. The reason assigned by Mr. 

 Dame as probably the one why the Oaks escaped the axe of 

 the Medford ship-builders — a dispute in regard to title — ap- 

 pears to be the true one, since the same reason, fortunate in 

 the first instance, has, unfortunately, prevented their pur- 

 chase, it having been found that a clear title could not be 

 given to the property. The only hope now appears to lie in 

 exercising the right of eminent domain, and therefore it is felt 

 that in case the iVIetropolitan Park Commission report a scheme 

 that meets with legislative approval the taking of the Waverley 

 Oaks with certain adjacent features of the landscape should 

 form one of the main elements thereof. 



Both in natural features and situation the place is peculiarly 

 well adapted for a public pleasure-ground. It possesses the 

 attractions of remarkable and varied landscape-beauty, scien- 

 tific interest, both geological and botanical, and the charm of 

 personal association with the memory of a great and noble 

 poet. The population in the neighborhood is increasing rap- 

 idly ; it lies within the limits of the important factory city of 

 Waltham ; Boston and Cambridge are near by, and the two 

 railways running past could, by the establishment of a station, 

 take and leave passengers upon the grounds. 



The grand old Oaks, whose frequent dead and naked limbs 

 betray the neglect they are suffering, might, by treatment simi- 

 lar to that which has rejuvenated so many decrepit old trees at 



the Arnold Arboretum, be restored to perfect healtii and as- 

 sured a vigorous life for centuries to come. The lantlscape- 

 features of the region are ideal for the creation of a pleasure- 

 ground of rare beauty. Tht' surface contours are beautifully 

 molded, from the meadow coursed by the meandering brooic 

 to the fine proportions of the kame, which somehow recalls 

 the modeling of a great sculptor. 



Beyond the road to Waltliam, which passes above, there 

 rises the stalwartly rounded slope of Helmet Hill, a clean-edged 

 mantle of woodland Hung across it beyond, and giving to the 

 grassy portion the effect of a fair shoulder. It would be well 

 to include a portion of this hill, at least, in the park for the 

 sake of the view, which is beautiful and extensive, and, by 

 all means, the land on the other side of Partelo Road, embrac- 

 ing the course of Beaver Brook, as far as, and including, the 

 mill-pond and cascade. This should be done both for the sake 

 of Lowell's memory and for the unsurpassed combination of 

 sylvan and pastoral scenery that would thereby be obtained. 



I hatl never before visited the cascade and did not know ex- 

 actly where to find it, though aware that it could not be a great 

 distance away. So we determined to follow the course ot the 

 brook. This proved no easy task, for the ravine is well 

 wooded, and, besides being rough with granite boulders, moss- 

 grown and slippery in the deep shade, it has a thick under- 

 growth of the Spice-bush — Snapwood they call it on Cape 

 Cod, because of its very brittle twigs. I remember the copious 

 draughts of "Snapwood-tea" whicli were given me as a child 

 when I had the measles, for the shrub is deemed an excellent 

 febrifuge, says (iray. As we passed through the thicket the 

 warm, moist air was filled with a very agreeable aromatic 

 odor from the bruised leaves and broken branches. 



The musical splashing of falling waters rose above the plaint 

 of the rippling brook as we pressed onward. Soon we found 

 ourselves looking up at the cascade ; not a mill-dam, as we 

 expected, but a natural water-fall, the brook tumbling in 

 sturdy, irregular bounds over the same granite ledge that has 

 for ages broken it into a mass of lace-like foam. The mill of 

 Lowell's poem has vanished, with the wheel that tossed "arm- 

 fuls of diamond and of pearl," and we no longer behold this 

 portion of the picture : 



Beneath a bony Buttonwood 



Tlie mill's red door lets forth the din ; 



The whitened miller, dust-imbued, 

 Flits past the square of dark within. 



Swift slips Undine along the race 



Unheard, and then, with flashing bound, 



Floods the dull wheel with light and grace, 

 And, laughing, hunts the loath drudge round. 



The " busy, never-ceasing burr" has at last ceased for ever. 

 "Sweet Beaver, child of foreststill, heaps its small pitcher to the 

 ear," but now it no more "gently waits the miller's will." Hardly 

 a vesfige of the mill is now left. For the rest, the place remains 

 as when Lowell described it : 



Climbing the loose-piled wall that hems 

 The road along the mill-pond's brink, 



From 'neath the arching Barberry-stems, 

 My footstep scares the sly chewink. 



The high dam itself, as one looks up to it from the cascade, 

 appears a " loose-piled wall," and the comparison of the 

 pretty little pond, placidly snuggling in the woodland, to " a 

 small pitcher " is an apt one. 



We found Mill Street running close by, and had we known 

 this fact it would have saved us the toilsome scramble through 

 the thicket. Those readers wdio wish to visit the place will do 

 well to remember this, and leave the road just after passing a 

 rather modern and prosperous-looking cottage on the left. 



The cascade is one of the few in the neighborhood of Bos- 

 ton, and the facility with which it may be included in a glorious 

 park, exceptionally rich in natural features of striking beauty, 

 makes it particularly desirable that the opportunity should be 

 seized. The two portions of the park separated by Partelo 

 Road, including the Oaks and the cascade respectively, could 

 be easily united by raising the road so as to span the brook by 

 a graceful arch, through which a footway might be carried 

 beside the stream and bordering it through the glen to the foot 

 of the cascade. 

 Boston. Sylvester Baxter. 



"Petty sinuosities and all sharp turns in the course of roads 

 or walks are undesirable ; and it should be possible to go from 

 any point in a park to another distant point without excessive 

 indirectness of course ; certainly, without so doubling on a 

 course as to produce an impression of a return to the starling- 

 point." 



