370 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
October  24,  1901. 
whenever  the  chroniclers  speak  of  times  of  dearth,  Apples 
are  almost  always  mentioned  as  articles  causing  distress  by 
their  scarcity  ;  and  in  the  Remembrance  Otiice  a  MS.  exists 
in  Henry  VII. ’s  (1485 — 1509)  own  handwriting,  in  which 
he  records  that  on  one  occasion  Apples  were  from  Is.  to  2s. 
each,  a  red  one  fetching  the  highest  price. 
When  our  agricultural  and  horticultural  literature  com¬ 
mences,  we  find  that  Fitzherbert,  in  his  “  Book  of  Hus¬ 
bandry,”  published  in  1598,  has  many,  and  in  most  in¬ 
stances,  good  directions  for  the  culture  of  the  Apple.  They 
are,  unlike  the  works  of  his  contemporaries  and  immediate 
successors,  the  evident  results  of  experience,  and  not  mere 
translations  from  the  classic  Geoponic  writers.  Thus,  on 
grafting  the  Apple,  he  says,  “  Graft  that  which  is  not  of  an 
old  Apple  tree  first,  for  that  will  bud  before  the  graft  got 
on  a  young  Apple  tree  late  grafted  in.  For  all  manner  of 
Apples  a  Crab  tree  stock  is  good,  but  the  Apple  tree  stock  is 
much  better.”  The  varieties  of  the  Apple  had  now  much 
increased,  for  Dodoens,  writing  in  1583,  says  they  were  so 
numerous  “  that  it  is  not  possible,  neither  necessary,  to 
number  all  the  kinds.”  Gerarde,  writing  of  this  fruit  in  his 
Herball,”  during  1597,  also  speaks  of  the  infinite  varieties 
of  the  Apple,  but  seems  to  attribute  the  variation  much  “  to 
the  soil  and  climate.”  “  Kent,”  he  goes  on  to  say,  “  doth 
abound  in  Apples  of  most  sorts.  But  I  have  seen  in  the 
pastures  and  bedegrows  about  the  grounds  of  a  worshipful 
gentleman  dwelling  two  miles  from  Hereford,  called  Mr. 
Roger  Bodnome,  so  many  trees  of  all  sorts,  that  the  servants 
for  the  most  part  drink  no  other  drink  but  that  which  is 
made  of  the  Apples.  The  quantity  is  such  that  the  parson 
hath  for  tithe  mary  hogsheads  of  cider.  The  hogs  are 
fed  with  the  fallings,  which  are  so  many  that  they  will  not 
taste  of  any  but  the  best.”  Though  the  varieties  were  so 
numerous,  Gerarde  gives  drawings  of  but  six,  which  we 
may  presume  wTere  the  most  in  favour,  and  were  the  Pome- 
water,  Baker’s-ditch,  King  Apple,  Queening  or  Queen 
Apple,  Summer  Pearmain,  and  Winter  Pearmain.  Heres- 
bach,  who  wrote  a  little  earlier  (1570)  says  the  “  cheefe  in 
price  ”  were  the  Pippin,  the  Romet,  the  Pome-royal,  and  the 
Marligold.  Sir  T.  Hammer,  writing  about  the  year  1660,  says 
the  principal  Apples  were  “  Summer  Pepin,  Holland  Pepin, 
Russet  Pepin,  Kentish  Pepin,  the  best  supposed  in  England, 
Russeting,  Gilliflower,  Muscadine  Queen,  John  Apple,  King 
A^nle,  Golden  Reinette,  the  Royal,  Hollow-crowned,  and 
Common  Pearmains,  Old  Wife,  Nonesuch,  Figg  Apple  ;  all 
these  are  sold  at  8d.  the  tree,  except  the  Figg  Apple,  which 
is  5s.” 
We  quite  agree  with  Mr.  Knight,  Hr.  Martyn,  and  other 
vegetable  physiologists,  in  thinking  that  no  kind  of  Apple 
now  cultivated  appears  to  have  existed  more  than  two  or 
three  hundred  years  ;  and  this  term  does  not  at  all  exceed 
the  duration  of  a  healthy  tree,  or  of  an  orchard  when  grafted 
on  Crab  stocks,  and  planted  in  a  strong,  tenacious  soil. 
From  the  description  Parkinson,  who  wrote  in  1629,  has 
given  of  the  Apples  cultivated  in  his  time,  it  is  evident  that 
those  now  known  by  the  same  names  are  different,  and  pro¬ 
bably  now  varieties  ;  and  though  many  of  those  me  ntioned 
by  Evelyn,  who  wrote  between  thirty  and  forty  years  later, 
still  remain,  they  appear  no  longer  to  deserve  the  attention 
of  the  planter.  The  Moil,  and  its  successful  rival  the  Red- 
streak,  with  the  Musts  and  Golden  Pippin,,  are  in  the  last 
stage  of  decay,  and  the  Stire  and  Foxwhelp  are  hastening 
lapidly  after  them. — (“  Knight  on  the  Apple,”  6.) 
Except  bjr  some  overwhelming  convulsion — such  as  the 
Deluge — we  believe  that  no  species  ever  becomes  extinct, 
but  it  is  quite  otherwise  with  varieties  and  hybrids.  These, 
like  all  other  devices  of  man,  have  their  limited  period  of 
existence,  which  by  no  human  ingenuity  can  be  pro¬ 
tracted.  Some  authorities  assert  that  grafting  is  a  mode  of 
thus  protracting  vegetable  life,  but  from  these  we  totally 
differ.  It  is,  happily,  quite  true  that  grafting  upon  a  young 
and  vigorous  stock  imparts  to  the  scion  a  supply  of  sap  of 
which  the  parent  stem  is  incapable,  yet  this  failure  is  only 
premonitory  of  the  departure  of  power  which  will,  after  a 
transient  increase  of  strength,  occur  to  its  removed  member. 
Every  subsequent  scion,  however  frequently,  and  whilst  in 
apparent  health,  removed  to  another  youthful  stock,  will  be 
found  to  have  a  period  of  renewed  vigour  and  productive¬ 
ness  of  shorter  duration  than  its  predecessor.  The  Golden 
Pippin  is  occasionally  quoted  as  a  contrary  proof,  but  this 
<  xample  has  no  such  weight  ;  for,  supposing  that  this  fruit 
yet  exists,  still  it  has  not  passed  the  age  beyond  which  the 
period  of  unproductiveness  and  death  in  the  Apple  tree  may 
be  delayed  by  grafting,  for  we  have  no  mention  of  this  fruit 
that  at  all  justifies  the  conclusion  that  the  Golden  Pippin 
existed  much  more  than  three  centuries  ago.  A  Pearmain 
Apple  is  mentioned  in  records  as  old  as  King  John  (1205), 
but  the  Pippin  is  not  noticed  by  any  authority  earlier  than 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  (1509). 
The  Falling  of  Leaves. 
October  may  be  said  to  mark  the  end  of  the  “  phenological 
year,”  and  the  time  has  come  when  Nature  curls  within  herself, 
to  coin  a  phrase,  and  remains  outwardly  quiescent  for  some 
months.  The  dying,  drooping,  and  dropping  of  many  of  the 
vegetative  organisms  around  us  is  an  outward  symbol  of  this 
truth  ;  the  whole  of  it  is  only  understood  by  the  botanist  and 
Nature-student.  Take  the  case  of  the  beautiful  leaves  of  de¬ 
ciduous  trees,  which  are  now  falling  thickly.  Throughout  the- 
warm  summer  the  leaves  have  been  briskly  active  in  building  up 
structure  and  in  accumulating  supplies  of  reserve  matter.  The 
condition  of  the  elements  was  favourable  to  increase  and  internal 
transmutations.  But  by-and-by  the  days  became  heavier,  duller 
and  colder.  The  longest  day  had  gone,  and  each  one  now  was 
shorter.  The  expenditure  account  which  all  Nature  maintains 
along  with  the  income  register  began  to  gain  upon  the  latter. 
The  decrease  of  sunlight  and  warmth  lessens  the  whole  energy 
of  the  tree ;  the  drying-up  process,  if  I  may  so  term  it,  carried 
on  by  the  oxygen  as  it  passes  in  and  out  through  the  pores 
(stomata)  of  the  leaf,  causes  such  changes  in  the  chemical  con¬ 
stituents  of  the  latter  that  the  work  which  was  previously  carried 
on  is  now  no  longer  possible.  The  semblance  of  the  life  of  a 
leaf  and  the  life  of  man  correspond  very  closely,  and  is  well 
proven  in  the  weird  old  song  beginning,  “  What’s  the  life  of 
man  more  than  a  leaf  ?” 
The  fall  of  the  leaf  implies  that  the  internal  constituents  are 
not  in  a  condition  to  survive  the  winter.  The  leaves  of  “ever¬ 
greens,”  on  the  other  hand,  are  not  shed,  for  within  them  there 
is  a  certain  amount  of  gummy  and  resinous  matter  which  saves 
them  in  a  measure,  and  they  are  adapted  for  formulating  their 
internal  matters  so  as  to  survive  the  winter  vicissitudes.  Just 
before  the  autumn  ripening  of  the  leaves  the  “  food  ”  stored  in 
them — the  leaf-albumen  and  carbohydrates — is  withdrawn. 
Nature  is  curling  within  herself.  Were  these  matters  which  are 
contracted  from  the  leaf  to  be  lost  to  the  tree,  the  effect  would 
prove  itself  by  a  more  or  less  decrepit  growth  in  the  springtime. 
Even  much  of  the  chlorophyll,  i.e.,  the  granules  that  give  leaves 
their  green  colour,  is  withdrawn  before  the  fall  of  the  leaf.  The 
green  granules  disappear,  and  are  stored  in  the  twigs  and 
branches,  but  they  leave  smaller  and  nearly  yellow  coloured 
granules  still  in  the  cells  of  the  leaf.  Anthocyanin  is  another 
substance  left  behind,  and  this,  in  combination  with  the  yellow 
granules,  produces  the  yellow,  orange,  red,  and  other  similar 
colours  which  we  see  in  the  “  autumn  .tints.”  What  is  left  ulti¬ 
mately  in  the  worn-out  leaf  structure  is  inert  mineral  matter, 
with  a  minimum  of  organic  constituents.  Calcium  oxalate  is 
among  the  chief  of  these  mineral  combinations,  and  this,  with 
the  other  like  substances,  are  brought  to  earth  with  the  fall  of  the 
leaf,  and  there  they  are  of  the  utmost  value  in  furnishing  fresh 
sustenance  to  the  roots. 
The  casting  of  the  leaves  is  no  real  loss  to  the  tree.  Indeed, 
it  is  a  gain.  All  that  is  useless  is  thus  taken  away  from  the  tree, 
leaving  the  branches  free  to  be  washed  and  cleansed  by  the  rains 
and  snows  of  winter ;  and  the  young  leaves  in  springtime  have 
every  freedom  for  their  development.  Just  before  the  actual 
separation  of  the  leaves  from  the  tree,  a  divisional  layer  of  young 
cells  grows  between  the  stalk  and  its  point  of  union  with  the 
twig.  These  cells  are  weak,  and  so  it  happens  that  by  the  shaking 
backwards  and  forwards,  and  up  and  down  by  the  wind,  the  new 
cells  snap  from  their  insecure  grip  with  the  older  cells,  and  down 
the  leaf  comes.  After  frost,  this  fact  is  made  clearer,  and  may 
be  accounted  for  by  saying  that  the  new  cells  become  ruptured, 
and  then  collapse  with  the  thaw  which  follows.  After  the  separa¬ 
tion,  a  layer  of  cork  tissue  forms  over  the  wound. 
Trees  have  a  systematic  order  in  the  shedding  of  their  leaves ; 
but  the  order  of  shedding  is  not  dependent  upon  the  order  of 
leafing.  Ash  and  Beech  trees  begin  to  shed  their  leaves  at  the 
top,  while  Poplars  and  Willows  cast  theirs  from  below  upwards. 
Limes,  Acers,  and  Planes  are  observed  to  shed  their  leaves  pretty 
evenly.  Trees  in  tropical  forests  only  shed  their  branches  or 
leaves  when  the  dry  season  is  prolonged  and  severe.  It  is  rather 
a  significant  fact  that  the  evergreen  trees  of  Arctic  regions,  where 
frost  and  snowstorms  are  frequent,  have  generally  needle-like 
leaves,  viz.,  Pines,  &c.  Had  they  broad  foliage,  like  the 
deciduous  trees,  the  result  would  be  that  they  would  break  down, 
under  the  loads  they  would  sometimes  have  to  carry. — J.  H.  D. 
