January 5 , 1895. 
THE GARDENING WORLD 
299 
EPPING FOREST IN 
WINTER. 
The advantages of such a recreation ground as 
Epping Forest to London cannot be over estimated ; 
but seeing that the nearest end of it is ten or eleven 
miles distant, the poorer classes can seldom avail 
themselves of it, and least of all in winter when 
everything is cold, damp and cheerless, except the 
strong of limb and those who know how to enjoy 
wild nature at any season. When London comes to 
Epping all this will be altered, but it will be 
unfortunate for the forest, for then it will be 
despoiled of its native simplicity, and have to wear 
a cultivated appearance. When King James I. 
came to London nearly 300 years ago and engaged 
in hunting with his nobles and citizens of the 
Metropolis, the fauna of the forest must have been 
very different from what it is now, and the area 
must have been larger. Happily the encroachments 
have been stopped, and a playground secured, as far 
as we can see, for all time coming. The big game 
is gone, but riders on horseback still range the forest 
in all directions on certain occasions. 
One of the most conspicuous features of many 
portions of the forest at this season of the year is 
the Holly, which maintains itself, we may imagine, 
as it did of old when the surrounding population 
was more thinly scattered. It exists in the form of 
low trees and dense bushes frequently well set with 
its bright red berries. Seedlings are also plentiful 
in various stages of growth, from those still bearing 
the seed leaves to those of various ages and size. 
In 1578 Dodoens spoke of it as Holme, Holly, or 
Hulver, and said that “ Holme groweth much in 
this country in rough, stony, barraine and untoyled 
places, alongst the wayes and in woodes.” The 
woods, that is, the native ones, have been almost 
obliterated, but the ways remain. The same author, 
in speaking of the uses of Holly, says that “they 
use the smal branches and leaves of Holme to 
dense and sweepe chimneys, as they used to do in 
Burgundie and other places, with Kneeholme or 
Butcher’s Broome. Other than this we dare not 
affirme of Holme, because it serveth not in physicke.’’ 
The Butcher’s Broom still grows in Epping Forest, 
though sparingly. The Hornbeam, though leafless, 
still carries its brown winged fruits; but large 
bushes of the Dog Rose here and there enliven the 
open spaces with their scarlet heps. The stony 
Haw is also conspicuous by the more subdued, 
crimson-red fruits with which it is covered. The 
common Furze is already flowering plentifully ; in 
fact it is doubtful when it was fairly out of bloom. 
The White Birch is really beautiful even in its 
winter nudity, the white and papery trunks showing 
well up against the masses of drooping purple 
spray. When seen at a distance on the sides of 
some glen or hollow the effect is charming. The 
trees are only of moderate growth, and seem to 
have reared their heads and straight stems since the 
iniquitous laws of pollarding were abolished. 
In sheltered places the Beech is still clothed with 
its rich russet foliage ; and the Hornbeam sometimes 
behaves in the same way, though its colour is paler. 
A good road, though often rather muddy in winter 
and dusty in summer, leads through the heart of the 
forest from end to end, but at either season more 
than half the enjoyment is lost unless the pedestrian 
can plunge into the wildest retreats it affords. The 
heaps of granite macadam by the waysides seem too 
foreign to the soil to give the visitor the impression 
of a forest primeval. A feature of the olden times 
may still be witnessed, occasionally at least, in great 
flocks of many hundreds of wood-pigeons circling 
about with a wheeling flight before alighting, while 
stray individuals will start off alone to a greater or 
less distance as if sent on some important mission. 
The rustling of the Beech, Oak, and Hornbeam 
leaves, and the crackling of the Beech mast beneath 
the feet lend an additional air of reality to the 
whole ; and the pale red Bracken is equally sugges¬ 
tive of pathless woods. 
Frequently it may be observed that the forks and 
hollow stems of the pollarded Oaks furnish support 
to other kinds of vegetation than their own. In one 
case I noticed a Holly of considerable size thriving 
in the decayed centre of the trunk at a considerable 
height from the ground; the Woodbine and 
Brambles were more frequent in similar situations, 
and their long supple stems hung down, in many 
cases sweeping the ground. Vines, our American 
cousins would call them, for every climber or trailer 
they speak of as Vines. In some instances the foliage 
of the Brambles is still green. Now and again one 
comes across a natural growth of a peculiar kind, 
such as a Witch’s Broom, consisting of a dense mass 
of slender drooping twigs on the Hawthorn, and 
which had concealed a bird’s nest in summer. 
Ferns are not particularly plentiful, but I noted the 
Common Polypody and the Broad Buckler Shield 
Fern upon trees, the latter indeed growing out of a 
hole at the side of an Oak, similarly to the artificial 
tree trunks occasionally seen iu ferneries. The Royal 
Fern is said to grow in the neighbourhood of Ching- 
ford and of the ancient village of Woodside on the 
margin of the forest; but the record is probably 
antiquated and behind date. A healthy Crab Apple 
tree turns up now and again rough in its primeval 
garniture of short, stubby, almost spiny-looking 
spurs, and striking by contrast with other native 
trees. The missel and other thrushes may occasion¬ 
ally be seen darting away in a hurried manner from 
the approach of an intruder ; but all are silent save 
the robin, which has betaken himself to the margins 
and to the attraction of human habPations. There 
are several ponds containing small fishes attracting 
here and there a solitary disciple of old Isaac Walton, 
and the stickleback or the banstickle of northern 
boys, the Gasterosteus of the ichthyologist disports 
itself as lively as at midsummer. The spiny fins are 
very curious, and all save the pectoral ones and the 
tail have a lurking and uncanny suspicion about 
them. 
The Ivy climbs to the tops of many trees and then 
develops its flowering branches, now in fruit. More 
than 300 years ago Dodoens wrote as follows :— 
“ There be three kinds of Ivye as Dioscorides 
writeth. The first hath a white fruit and is unknown 
to us. The second beareth black or yellowish fruite, 
and of this kind there groweth great plentie in this 
countrie. The third kinde is small and creepeth 
along upon the ground, and this kinde bringeth no 
fruite. The third kinde is not much unlike the Ivye 
abovesayde, but that his branches are both smaller 
and tenderer, not lifting or bearing itself upwarde (as 
the other kinde), but creepeth alongst by the grounde. 
The leaves are most commonly three-square, of a 
blackish-green, and at the end of summer, about 
autumne, they are betwixt browne and red upon one 
side, this Ivye hath neither flowers nor fruit.” The 
description of the latter is unmistakable, and shows 
that it is merely the creeping form of the common 
Ivy that grows in hedges, on banks, and similar 
places. The second kind is the flowering form of 
the common Ivy, or might have been intended for 
the Irish Ivy, with large leaves. Another form 
known in gardens as Cuspidata major may be found 
upon trees, fruiting as freely as the ordinary form. 
The above-mentioned author relates how the Ivy 
was named Cissos, in the ancient Greek tongue, after 
a maiden at a banquet, who “ so daunced before 
Bacchus, and kissed him often, making such mirth 
and joy, that being overcome with the same fell to 
the ground and killed herself.” All that we can 
gather from this story is that the new woman of 
those ancient times was not strictly temperate. 
About a mile or so from the old-fashioned village 
of Epping is the remains of what would appear to 
be a Roman encampment with a vallum and fosse ; 
but the circular area inside is overgrown by tall 
Beech trees. The history of it I have not traced. 
Here and there are circular areas fenced round with 
wire to keep out the cows with their tinkling bells at 
large in the forest. Most of the old trees and other 
vegetation have been removed with the view (as I 
suppose) to see what will grow up. It is doubtless a 
Darwinian idea. Loughton has a more modern look 
about it than Epping, and is larger. Many of its 
inhabitants consist of an overflow from London come 
down to the forest to rear their princely villas and 
plant more trees round the outskirts of their gardens 
than there is room for, necessitating that hideous 
lopping so familiar to us. The nude-flowered yellow 
Jasmine is, however, beautiful upon the walls.— 
Rambler. 
-—- 
A Generous Gift.—Earl Cowper, chairman of the 
Hertfordshire County Council, has generously 
offered to place a farm of nearly 300 acres, with 
residence and buildings, at the disposal of the 
Council, rent free, for the purpose of providing 
practical instruction in agriculture, on condition that 
the County Council stock the farm and work it. 
His lordship will also erect a laboratory and the 
necessary dormitories. 
PATHS AND ROADS. 
The general appearance and keep of a place, either 
large or small, is largely governed by the way in 
which its paths and roads have been designed and 
laid out in the first instance, and in the second place 
on the way in which they are afterwards maintained. 
It was once said by a celebrity that the curve is the 
true line of beauty, and it would seem that many 
who claim to be landscape gardeners, acting, it may 
be, on that idea, produce work which anyone with a 
true artistic taste must view with utter abhorrence. 
The paths of many a suburban garden would seem 
to have been modelled from a corkscrew, and it may 
often be seen where this atrocity is perpetrated that 
a slight gentle curve would have produced a really 
pleasing effect. No abrupt deviation should be per¬ 
mitted in pleasure grounds, without the reason why 
they are made is very apparent. At all points where 
the direct line is departed from, a bank of shrubs, 
clump of trees, or other object should be placed, 
showing that the detour made is a necessity. 
In this as in all questions relating to taste there is 
room for wide differences of opinion, and in dealing 
with the formation ot pleasure grounds the dis¬ 
position of the walks should be studied with a view 
to make them appear as extensive as circumstances 
will permit of without unduly encroaching upon the 
space at command by needlessly extending the path¬ 
ways or roads. At the same time, care should be 
taken that any object of interest, either within the 
domain or which can be viewed from it, is brought 
into sight from some one or more positions on some 
of the walks or roads meandering through it. The 
formation of walks and roads will always be 
governed to some extent by local circumstances, 
such as the nature of the soil and the material 
available for their construction. 
For the top casing nothing excels good binding 
yellow gravel, but this differs widely in quality 
from different pits, some having an excess of clay, 
rendering the paths made from it very sticky at 
times, especially when a sudden thaw takes place 
after a prolonged frost. Others, again, are too 
shingly and will not bind properly unless mixed with 
clay, or another gravel of a more binding character. 
All gravel paths should be well drained by a sub¬ 
stratum of rubble to allow the water which soaks 
through the surface to pass rapidly away. Where 
chalk is plentiful this is frequently largely used for 
the purpose, and if w e never had severe frosts it is 
quite possible that no better material could be found ; 
but as this is not the case its use for the purpose is 
most objectionable, because when a thaw takes place 
the frost having penetrated the chalk breaks it up 
into small pieces, many of which come to the sur¬ 
face, and, becoming intermixed with the gravel, 
spoils its appearance. For this reason any other dry 
rubble is preferable, 
Here again the kind of soil on which the path or 
road is to be made will largely influence the amount 
and character of the material required. On firm, 
sandy and light loamy ground, less drainage will be 
required than on spongy or wet clay lands. For 
garden paths on firm, sandy soil through which rain 
will readily penetrate, a thin coat of fine gravel rest¬ 
ing on 2 in. or 3 in. of rubble, broken into pieces not 
larger than a walnut, will be found much better than 
one with fine gravel 6 in. in depth. True, it will not 
admit of being turned, and in these days when weed 
destroyers can be so cheaply bought, this may well 
be discarded as an expensive and obsolete procedure, 
and a walk made in this way will often be in a fit 
condition for walking upon when those of greater 
depth are well nigh impassable. 
If we were about to form paths or roads on clay 
lands, we should adopt a plan which possibly has 
never been put into practice and could only be effec¬ 
tively carried out during dry weather, or rather it 
should be said that dry weather is a necessity for 
the proper carrying out of special portions of the 
work. The method of proceeding is as follows: 
Excavate the path or road to the required depth, leav¬ 
ing it convex at the bottom, and allow it, after 
being brought to an even convex surface to become tho¬ 
roughly hardy and dry. Many clays when in this con¬ 
dition will bear carting on with heavy weights. When 
this has been accomplished, put 2 in. of tar asphalte 
over it, and let this remain till quite firm, then proceed 
to the formation of the walk, as advised, for sandy soils. 
In this instance, drains to take off the surface water 
will be a prime necessity, and must be made on each 
