Chapter 10 OTHER TREES

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Heartnut

The heartnut is a sport of the Japanese walnut (Juglans sieboldiana). Since its nut is heart-shaped, it has the name of "cordiformis" added to its species name. There are many of these sports, some of which have been propagated under the varietal names of Faust, Lancaster, Fodermaier, Wright, Walters, Canoka, Okay and Gellatly.

I think this is the most ornamental of all nut trees. In shape, it is similar to an apple tree, spreading out rather than growing tall, but its long, compound leaves give it a tropical appearance. During the autumn these leaves do not color any more than do those of the black walnut. The tree produces long racemes of red blossoms and its staminate blooms are catkins eight to ten inches long, which, when fully ripened, swish in the wind and release clouds of yellow pollen. The heartnut tree holds the interest of its owner closely during that time when the nuts resulting from the racemes of blossoms are steadily increasing in size. I have seen as many as sixteen nuts on one stem and doubtless, there sometimes are more. The owner of such a tree, at least if he is at all like me, will proudly exhibit it to all comers during the spring and summer seasons. And then, at harvest time, after the nuts have gradually changed from green to the dull yellow that indicates their maturity, he will have the satisfaction of shaking them down for drying and storage.

The heartnut kernel tastes much like that of the butternut and its internal structure is almost the same but the outside shell is smooth. Cultivated varieties usually crack easily and in such a way that the kernel is released in halves. From all this, it is easy to see that the heartnut is not only a beautiful tree but is definitely useful.

In my own work with heartnuts I have found that, although they are to be classed only as semi-hardy, there are a few varieties which are hardy enough for northern temperatures. Only testing will determine which ones can endure severe climates. In the spring of 1921, I planted a Lancaster heartnut grafted on a black walnut, but the weather was cold that season and it was killed down to the graft joint, where it threw out a sprout. This was weak and succulent by fall and the graft was entirely killed back that winter. I bought twelve more Lancaster heartnuts a year later. They were interspersed in the orchard among some black walnuts. Although a few survived the first winter, none ever lived to come into bearing. From time to time, I also experimented with seedlings sent to me by Professor James A. Neilson of Vineland, Ontario, who was interested in having them tested in this latitude. These, too, were always unsuccessful.

I had my first success with several unnamed varieties of heartnuts I purchased in 1933 from J. U. Gellatly of British Columbia. These were grafted on black walnut stocks of considerable size. To insure their surviving the first winter, I built wooden shelters which completely enclosed them, filling these shelters with forest leaves and protecting them against mice with screen covers. No doubt this was a decided help; at least all of these heartnuts lived for many years until the invasion of the butternut curculio and the damage done by the yellow bellied sap sucker bird caused me the loss of all except one variety, the Gellatly. This variety I have perpetuated by re-grafting on other black walnut stocks and by spraying and covering the limbs with screen to prevent the sap sucker from working on it, still have it in the nursery and at my home in St. Paul where a young tree on the boulevard bears each year.

I have found that heartnuts are difficult to propagate, the number of successful grafts I have made being far below that of black walnuts on black walnut stocks. The reason for this is not well understood any more than is the fact, in my experience, that the Stabler walnut will graft readily and the Ten Eyck persistently refuses to. A good feature that these grafted trees do have, however, is their early productiveness. I have seen them set nuts the second year after grafting and this has also occurred in trees I have sold to others.

When a nut of J. sieboldiana cordiformis is planted, it does not reliably reproduce itself in true type, sometimes reverting to that of the ordinary Japanese walnut, which looks more like a butternut and has a rather rough shell as distinguished from the smooth shell of the heartnut. In hulling my heartnut crop for 1940, I noticed many deformed nuts.

The season had been a prolific one for nut production of all kinds, and I knew there had been a mixture of pollen in the air at the time these nutlets were receptive (a mixture made up largely of pollen from black walnuts, butternuts, with some English walnuts). Since irregularities in size and shape indicate hybridity frequently and since heartnuts are easily hybridized I have assumed that these were pollinized by the mixture. I have planted these odd-shaped nuts and I expect them to result in many new crosses of J. sieboldiana cordiformis, some five to eight years from now.

Beautiful tropical looking Japanese Walnut (Juglans sieboldiana cordiformis). Variety Gellatly, from Westbank, B. C., Canada. Photo by C. Weschcke.

To show how nature reacts to much interference I will follow through on these nearly 100 small trees that resulted from this pollination. They were transplanted into an orchard on a side hill and well taken care of for several years, but during that time one after another was killed, apparently by winter conditions or perhaps the site was too exposed or the soil may have been uncongenial. Today there remains but three trees, none of which have borne but all indicate that they are true heartnuts from the shape of the leaves and color of the bark and general formation. In order to hasten their bearing, scions have been taken from these small trees and will be grafted on large black walnut stocks to bring them into fruitfulness much earlier than if they were left to their own slow growth. This system of testing out seedlings long before they have reached a size sufficient to bear on their own roots is applicable to all of the species of nut trees and is one way that the plant breeder can hurry up his testing for varieties after making crosses and obtaining young plants.

Natural size Heartnut. Photo 10/26/38 by C. Weschcke. Gellatly variety.

Beechnut

The beechnut, Fagus ferruginea, belonging to the oak family, is one of the giants of the forest, growing to great size and age. Even very old beech trees have smooth bark and this, in earlier and more rustic days, was much used for the romantic carving of lovers' names, as scars still visible on such ancient trees testify. The wood itself is dense and hard, even more so than hard maple, and is considered good lumber. Beechnut is one of the few nut trees with a more shallow and ramified root system as contrasted with that of most, which, as in the oak, walnut and hickory, is a tap root system. This fact suggests that in those localities where beeches grow wild, grafts made on such trees, and transplanted, would survive and grow well.

Perhaps one of the reasons why very little propagation is done with beeches is that no outstanding variety has ever been discovered. Although the nut shell is thin and the meat sweet and oily, the kernel is so small that one must crack dozens of them to get a satisfying sample of their flavor. This, of course, prevents their having any commercial value as a nut. There is also the fact that the beechnut is the slowest growing of all the common nut trees, requiring from twenty to thirty years to come into bearing as a seedling. Of course this could be shortened, just as it is in propagating hickories and pecans, by making grafts on root systems which are ten or more years old, as explained in the chapter on heartnuts. However, I know of no nursery in which beechnuts are propagated in this way.

My attempts to grow beechnut trees in Wisconsin have met with little success. About the year 1922, I obtained 150 trees from the Sturgeon Bay Nurseries. I planted these on level ground which had clay near the surface with limestone about a foot under it. Although all of these trees seemed to start satisfactorily, some even growing about a foot, within two or three years they had all died. I decided they were not hardy but I now realize that the character of the soil was responsible for their gradual death; they should be planted in a limestone or calcareous soil, preferably of the fine sandy type, the main requisite being plenty of moisture because of their shallow root system. Since then, I have purchased beechnut seeds several times from various seedsmen, but none of these seeds has ever sprouted. I think this is because beechnuts, like chestnuts, must be handled with great care to retain their viability.

In 1938, I ordered 100 beechnut trees from the Hershey Nurseries of Downingtown, Pennsylvania. Although these trees were set in sandy soil, there are now only about five of them alive, and of these, only four are growing well enough to suggest that they will some day become big trees.

Beechnuts must be protected against mice and rabbits as these species of rodents are very fond of bark and young growth of these trees and I have every reason to believe that deer are in the same category.

Oaks

Although the acorns produced by the red oak are very bitter and consistently wormy, those from the white oak are more edible. In my own exploring, I have found one tree, apparently a hybrid between the red and white oaks, which bears good acorns. The nuts, which are long and thin, are generally infested with weevils. If there were a demand for such a nut tree, I'm sure that it could easily be grafted on oak roots. During favorable seasons, when these edible nuts were of good size and free from worms, I have carried them in my pocket and enjoyed munching on them. I found that their flavor, like that of chestnuts, was improved by roasting.

Acorns are a balanced food and contain enough starch to make them readily assimilated, except for their bitterness. They are a good food for farm animals and chickens. I have kept a flock of goats in good condition by feeding them acorns during the winter. It isn't necessary to grind them for such use. I have read that Indians at one time prepared acorns for their own use by storing them in bags submerged in cold running water. This not only extracted the bitterness but also it probably discouraged the development of weevil eggs.

Oak trees are generally prolific and are regular bearers, but of course, what they are widely known and loved for is the beauty of their leaves in the autumn. No one doubts their esthetic value, which will keep them forever popular whether they come into demand as a grafted nut tree or not.

Chestnuts

Another of our ornamental nut trees is the chestnut, also of the oak family, classified under the genus Castanea, which grows into a large, beautiful tree with wide-spread branches. Chestnuts do not grow well on limestone soil and always fail in the heavy blue clay so common on farm lands in this part of the country. It is best for their growth that the soil be gravelly and slightly acid.

The chestnut has always been a good timber tree. Its wood, although not as hard as the red oak, resembles it in grain. The beams of many old pioneer homes are found to be chestnut. It is said that this is one of few woods to give a warning groan under too heavy a burden before it cracks or breaks. Chestnut wood is very durable in contact with the soil, outlasting all others except possibly black walnut and cedar. It contains so much siliceous matter in its pores that it quickly dulls chisels and saws used in working it.

The chestnut trees at my nursery were grown from mixed hybrid seeds which I obtained from Miss Amelia Riehl of Godfrey, Illinois. Almost all of the seeds she first sent me, in 1926, spoiled while they were stored during the winter. But Miss Riehl sent me more the following spring, many of which proved hardy. In 1937, the oldest of these trees produced staminate bloom for the first time. I naturally expected a crop of nuts from it that year, but none developed. The same thing happened in 1938. I then wrote to Miss Riehl about it, also asking her where to look for the pistillate blossoms. Her reply was a very encouraging one in which she wrote that the pistillate blossoms appear at the base of the catkins or staminate blooms, but that it is quite a common thing for chestnut trees to carry the latter for several years before producing pistillate blossoms. She also explained that it was very unlikely that the tree would fertilize its own blooms, so that I should not expect one tree to bear until other nearby chestnuts were also shedding pollen. This occurred the next year and another chestnut close to the first one set a few nuts. It was not until 1940 that the tree which had blossomed first, actually bore nuts.

In 1940, I crossed the pistillate blossoms of this tree with pollen from a Chinese variety called Carr, resulting in half a dozen nuts which I planted.

Since the chestnuts in these parts do not bloom usually until early July we can expect chestnuts to be a more reliable crop than butternuts, for instance, which bloom very early in the spring about May 1 to 15th.

Having had this reward for my efforts I took much more interest in chestnut growing and ordered trees of the Chinese varieties, Castanea mollissma from J. Russell Smith, H. F. Stoke, and John Hershey. Some of these were seedlings and some were grafted trees, not over a dozen of them alive today and none have produced mature nuts. Seemingly they have not been hardy although they have grown large enough to produce both staminate and pistillate blooms; they have never winter killed back to the ground, however.

Also, I have been planting nuts from all sources from which I could obtain them, mostly of the Chinese chestnut type. Some of these nuts were results of crosses, and showed their hybridity in the young seedlings that resulted there from. Today I have perhaps 150 of such young seedlings which I am pampering with the hope of getting something worthwhile from them. One of the big thrills of chestnut growing was the result of a chestnut that I picked up from a plant that was no higher than 2 feet, growing at Beltsville, Maryland in the government testing ground there, in 1937. My records show that this plant began to bear nuts in 1943 and have subsequently borne several crops in between the times that it was frozen to the ground and grew up again, which happened at least three times. Like most chestnuts this one has to be pollinated by taking the staminate bloom from a dwarfed chestnut nearby whose bloom coincides with the blossoming of the female flowers of this Chinese hybrid. Chestnuts rarely set any nuts that produce mature seed from their own pollen but depend on cross-pollination. The nut from this hybrid is also the largest of any that I have grown and to my taste is a palatable one. It may not rank among the best ones of known varieties today, but for our climate I would consider it unusually large and good. Experimentally, I have been able to produce new plants from this tree by layering young shoots coming from the roots. This generally requires two years to make a well-rooted plant before they are cut off and transplanted. This alternative of propagating by grafting or budding is considered a better method if it can be practiced, as it gives a plant on its own roots instead of the roots of some unknown seedling stock.

Hybrid Chestnut; natural size, one of the two survivors of several dozen trees sent by the U. S. Dept. of Agriculture for testing this far north. Fair size nut and it resembles the American Sweet Chestnut. Photo by C. Weschcke.

Another tree that surprised me when it came into bearing proved to bear one nut in a burr which led me to believe that it was a chinquapin hybrid. Later on, the habit of this tree changed somewhat and some of the burrs had more than one nut. I have found this to be the experience of others who have observed so-called chinquapin trees of a hybrid nature. It is my belief that the kind of pollen with which these blossoms are fertilized directly influences the number of nuts in a burr and sometimes the size of the nuts, again showing the importance of the cross-pollinating varieties when setting out an orchard of trees. This particular chinquapin type chestnut has upright growing habits different from a tree bearing similar nuts but having a very dwarfed habit. All of the nuts of the latter after six years of bearing can be picked off this tree by standing on the ground. There are several other trees bearing chestnuts, some large and some small nuts, all of which are interesting to me and may be important in the future of the chestnuts this far north since they indicate without doubt that the chestnut can accommodate itself to our climate, providing it has the right type of soil to grow in. In 1952 I acquired a 20-acre adjoining piece of land which has a much better chestnut growing site, being deep sandy soil, well drained, and yet not ever being dry. New varieties will be tested on this piece and should give much better results than the old trees which already were good enough to indicate success in chestnuts.

A hybrid chestnut presumed to be a cross between European Chestnut (Castanea Sativa) and its American cousin (Castanea Americana). Actual size. Photo by C. Weschcke.

Chinquapin hybrids from a tall growing tree. Nuts grow in racemes of burrs with as many as 10 burrs on one stem. Photo by C. Weschcke.

Apricot

If it were not that an apricot is a nut as well as a fruit, I should hesitate to include a description of my work with it. But the apricot seed has a rich kernel which, in many countries, for example, China, is used as a substitute for the almond to which it is closely related.

It was in 1933 that my aunt, Margaret Weschcke, told me of an apricot tree growing in a yard on the Mississippi River bluff in St. Paul and said to be bearing fruit. I was quite skeptical until I saw the tree and also saw fruit from it which had been preserved by the woman who owned it. Convinced of the hardiness of the tree, I was anxious to obtain scionwood but it was not until late that winter that I received permission to do so. It happened that a truck had broken off a large branch from the tree while delivering coal, and the owner very reasonably decided that taking a few twigs from it would not hurt it any more. I not only took the small branches that she was willing to sacrifice from her tree but also as many as possible from the branch which had been torn off, as its terminals were still in a fresh condition.

I grafted these scions on hybrid plum trees where they took hold readily, and in 1938, they began to bear prolifically. The apricots, which I have named Harriet, in honor of my mother, are a fine-flavored fruit, medium in size. Their cheeks are a mottled red with raised surfaces. Their pits are well-formed and fairly edible. Although the parent tree died the winter I took scions from it, my grafts have proved quite hardy, having received no injury when temperatures as low as 47° below zero have occurred. Since the parent tree died because its roots were severely frozen, it would seem that the top of the tree, in this case, was more hardy than the root system. This does occur sometimes, although it is unusual.

In developing the factor of hardiness further in this apricot variety, I have taken advantage of something I had observed about other fruit trees. When one combines parts of two trees by grafting, it is a simple thing to select a hardy root stock from the available plants, just as I selected hardy plum stock on which to graft my apricot scions. This is not always possible in choosing scionwood, however, since scionwood is usually selected for such reasons as the quality of its fruit. It may happen that the top part of a tree is limited in its climatic scope because of its inability to withstand precipitate or otherwise unfavorable temperatures. Having observed that certain grafted varieties of fruit trees, such as the Wealthy apple, for instance, have gradually come to be planted much farther north than they originally were, I reasoned that this was because only the hardiest of them survived and these hardy ones therefore became the mother blocks for future grafting. This was an inescapable procedure which acted as a method of bud selection. I therefore assumed that by a careful choice of the hardiest among surviving twigs of the most recent graft of the Harriet apricot, when particularly severe winter weather had caused some injury, I could induce extra-hardiness in future grafts.

I also believe that I have added to the hardiness factor of the apricot by making frequent grafts. It is my theory that the root stock is able to exert some influence over the top other than mere maintenance of life. By frequently uniting a hardy stock with a less hardy top, I think that the individuality of the top part may be somewhat broken down and the extra characteristic of hardiness added to it. After the fifth re-graft of this apricot made in eight years, I am convinced by its appearance and behavior that it is capable of becoming a reliable apricot for the region around St. Paul. Today the apricot still exists grafted on plum at my nursery at River Falls, Wisconsin, and the weakness of the tree seems to be in the union between the top and the plum stock. If this union were not so corky and large and succulent it might be less injured by our winters; therefore it is quite apparent that the plum is not a congenial stock for an apricot, at least it does not produce a satisfactory union. I am now making tests with this same variety by grafting it on more hardy apricot seedling stock such as the Prof. N. E. Hansen of Brookings, South Dakota, introduces.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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