THE WOODLAND IN EPPING FOREST. 235
for their descendants, and they tell a story of mighty hurricanes and
snowstorms which we should miss if it had been possible to remove
them. Such features are the characteristics of all virgin woodlands.
Our forest is also a document of nature with its tale to tell. Its
failures, its ruins, should be preserved. It should not be trimmed
and garnished.
(3.) REMOVAL OF THE ARTIFICIAL. The most
important and wide-spread interference with the natural aspect of
the Forest in the past has been the practice of pollarding. The
result, in many parts, is an extremely monotonous condition extend-
ing over wide areas. In Loughton Manor, as I have already said,
every tree has been thus disfigured. By letting in light and air here
and there we are giving a chance to young trees of recent growth,
which will quickly break the smooth outline. I must not be under-
stood to desire a complete removal of all the pollards. Many of
them are curious and picturesque, besides which they have a
history, and tell of a system of forest "management" which has had
an important place in the centuries past.
To give you another instance of the formalities which have been
introduced into the Forest, I may mention the hard outlines which
form the edges of old enclosures now thrown open, or of straight
rides injudiciously cut through the Forest. It is possible to the
experienced forester, who uses his axe as the artist wields his
brush, to substitute a perfectly natural and soft outline. I may
cite what we did on the "Clay Road," near Baldwin's Hill, two
years ago—an operation much criticised at the time —but I venture
to think that our action was justified, and that the criticism was
made with imperfect knowledge of our intention.
(4.) REPRODUCTION. Personally I am opposed to plant-
ing on the Forest, except for the purpose of hiding unsightly
objects. In the thicket, at any rate, nature is well able to sow her
seeds in the most favourable manner, and adequately to protect the
saplings. A grove thus produced is infinitely more picturesque and
diversified than a planted wood, because the trees are of all stages
and ages of growth, and the fittest survive, perhaps after some
struggles, of which they bear the signs. An artificial plantation is, at
all stages, even after hundreds of years, distinguishable from the
natural, chiefly from the reason that the trees are all of the same
age and height, and, being grown with nurses, are perfectly straight.
Some assistance may be given to the self-sown plantations by a