FAMOUS TREES

Manawatu Standard, Volume LV, Issue 245, 13 September 1935, Page 14

FAMOUS TREES

AFFINITY WITH MANKIND. Trees are like people, glad in the spring time, putting on bright and fine garments; and sad when arrive the melancholy days of autumn; shivering together at the first blasts of winter 'writes Francis Dickie in the Sydney Morning Herald). But the affinity goes much beyond this; it is as old as that time when primitive man got much of his food from trees, clothed himself in bark and leaves, and at times found safety in the high branches from fierce monsters that walked the earth. Most of us have some trees of memory ; the immense wide-armed one that shaded the old swimming hole, or some majestic guardian of school ground or home yard. To many of us, some single tree, or clump, or forest patch, marks a landmark in our lives. To view them once again, or merely call them to mind brings flooding back years we loved, or would gladly forget. They play so tremendous a part in our existence that even Freud has attached to them great significance. Tims it is from a wide variety of emotional reactions in man that a certain tree or trees, in every town and city are known to all the people, are cherished, protected, given the honour of special names. There is no city in the world, I think, where this fact is so emphasised as in Paris. In the French capital the number of trees which have “personalities” are many in number. Remarkable homage has been paid to them. and their beginnings, growth and histories are closely linked with some of the greatest people of the land.

Since the time when Emperor Julian, who adored his dear Lutotia (Paris), sang its perfection in “Misopognon,” that Montparnasse section has been noted for its trees. From early days until now the fig trees have grown here. Under one of these, in the old St. Paul Cemetery, Rabelais was buried. TREES OF LIBERTY. Trees have been planted in France from time immemorial as a sign of public rejoicing. But during the revolution of 1789, the custom took on a deeper significance. To consecrate the symbol of Liberty, a tree was planted at ono of the most frequented spots. The poplar was chiefly employed, because its name, “peuplier,” recalled the world “peuple” (people). And the planting was always the occasion of a solemn public festival. Many of those trees were torn up or destroyed when the Bourbons returned to the throne. But one of tho first trees of other kinds to be planted at this period was an oak near Civray (Vienne), the ceremony taking place in May, 1790. 11l front of the Town Hall, of Montparnasse, protected by an iron railing, is tho only Liberty tree left in Paris. It was planted in 1792. From that time on more than 200 trees of Liberty were planted in Paris. In 1807 the law allowed prisoners to gather twice a day around one tree in the courtyard of tlieir prison, and to sing hymns to the glorification of the goddess Liberty.

When Napoleon 111. came into power he had the unfortunate idea to have all the trees cut down. It was by an unknown miracle that the tree of the Town Hall of Montparnasse escaped. In May, 1870, . the Montparnasse tree of Liberty was damaged by the cannons of the Germans besiegTng Paris. Its wounds were healed, however, and it soon regained its health and vigour. That year it escaped again miraculously with its life. This was during the bitter cold days oPTJie winter of 1870-71, when even the benches in the parks and along tlie boulevards were chopped down to procure fuel for millions of freezing and besieged Parisians. In 1789 the cutting through of what was going to be later the Boulevard Raspail, one of the most beautiful thoroughfares of Paris, which is bordered by a quarduple row of plane trees, was decided by the city fathers of the time. It took, however, nearly 124 years to complete the gigantic task. Wars and revolutions, and many times the. lack of funds, interrupted tlie work.? It was finally inaugurated in 1913. At wlmt is now number 229

of this boulevard, Victor Hugo once liyed in a quiet little villa, for in his day Montparnasse was in the country. In front of his home Hugo planted an acacia sapling. When the boulevard was cut through, the land leaped in value. Tlie little country house disappeared, giving place to the magnificent line of many-storeyed apartments of to-day. Due to this change there occurred what is undoubtedly one of the most remarkable examples in history of what man will do to save a tree. Tho purchaser of the property once owned by Victor Hugo was a great admirer of tho writer. So when it came time to erect a huge apartment block upon the spot, he forbade cutting the tree planted by such illustrious hands, although the ground was worth thousands of francs an inch. Then he called into consultation his architect, who drew special plans. The facade of the immense apartment block was indented at great extra cost, and this oddly shaped front rose around the tree. Even more romantic is tlie story of the gigantic cedar of Lebanon, which stands in the Jardin des Plantes. It is the largest tree of its species in Europe, and was planted personally by Bernard de Jussieu, the mail who organised the first .bontanical garden in France at Versailles, and was in charge of the Jardin des Plantes for many years. According to the story, Jussieu made a journey to Syria. When starting the return trip, he had a number of precious plants carefully packed to bring to France. Among them was a tiny shoot of cedar tree a few inches high. While crossing the desert his caravan suffered a shortage of water. Jussieu was forced to make a selection of his plants. He chose the cedar, and in order to save it he gave his share of drinking water to the sapling. Though he suffered intolerably from thirst, the sprig was brought to France in a flourishing condition. He planted it at the foot of. the hill of the Labyrinth in 1734. To-day, 201 years later, tho tree towers, and bulks beyond all others. Upon its trunk a placard tells of its planting by Jussieu. . THE CEDAR OF MARENGO. Another tree planted as a sapling to mark a historic victory stands near the Malmaison Museum, which houses the greatest collection in the world of relics relating to Napoleon Bonaparte, and where Bonaparte and Josephine lived during the first Consulate. This is known as the cedar of Marengo. It grows near the ancient Imperial Palace, and a magnificent gathering of oak, horse chestnut, elms, and planes. In autumn its sombre hue stands out in vivid contrast to the varying shades of the turning leaves of the others. Towering commandingly in front of the Melml Avenue gate, it tells of an ancient victory, and stands emblem of tragic people who left so deep a mark upon tlie history of tlie world. On June 14, 1800, galloped up to the gates of Malmaison the last of a relay of horsemen. He brought to Josephine Napoleon’s mesage of the victory of the battle of Marengo. In honour of the occasion, Josephine selected a tiny cedar sapling and planted it in tlie commanding position where it towers so majestically to-day.

Interest in tile care of trees is increasing every year. One of the 'most important new celebrations in honour of trees in France will be held annually in future on Armistice Day. Tlie choice of November 11 for the tree festival was made in agreement with the Government, which has understood how this initiative may increase the traditional character of the Peace Festival. The association has appealed to the mayors, pointing out that if every commune plants 1000 saplings on Armistice Day more than 22,000 hectares will he added to France’s woodlands yearly. In addition, an appropriation of more than 1,000,000 francs has been made for the purchase of trees to be planted along several main thoroughfares of Paris. The terrible Hoods which devastated the Midi in the spring of 1930 may be prevented, it is contended by forestry experts, by a tree-planting programme which contemplates reforesting four million hectares of land.

In England at the present moment tlie largest programme of reforestation ever embarked upon has been mapped out. It will consist in the

planting of 33,000 acres a year for five years. This campaign is to replace the loss during the war, when about onesixth of the country resources, or 450,000 acres of woodland, were used up. Since the Armistice there had been planted 150,000 acres by the State, 50.000 acres by public bodies and private persons, with public assistance, and 50,000 by private persons without assistance.

The affinity of man and trees reaches back to the dawn of time. In this mechanical and noise-driven age, men still seek in forest depths rest and inspiration.