Home Landscape Design Rooted in MYSTERY


Ancient yew trees dusted in snow stand sentinel in many churchyards around the country as worshippers gather for the Christmas service. Richard Mabey celebrates this close but cryptic connection.
Amature yew is a compelling sight whatever its situation. It has the densest, darkest foliage of any evergreen and a buttressed trunk that comes close to the colour of mahogany. Its wood is reputed to outlive iron. A 250,000 - year - old yew - spear found atClacton in Essex is the worlds oldest known wooden artefact. Yet what sets yews most decisively apart from other trees found in Britain is the remarkable and probably unique association that they have with our ancient churches.
At least 500 churchyards in England and Wales alone contain yew trees that arc certainly as old as the building itself, and quite likely a good deal older. Yews of great age are rare outside churchyards, and no other type of ancient tree occurs so frequently inside church grounds. I do not know of any similarly exclusive relationship between places of worship and a single tree species existing anywhere else in the western world.
It is obviously a meaningful association, however cryptic, and when you contemplate yews of extreme age, it is hard not to believe that the meaning is a profound one. Even modest, middle - aged yews can have a powerful presence. The tree that stands on a mound at the southern corner of St Peters church in Berkhamsted is probably no more than 350 years old. It was a local tradition for townspeople to gather under it on New Years Eve, which I can remember persisting until the early 1960s. On windy nights in the heart of winter, the twigs still stream above the High Street like ceremonial bunting.
It is no wonder that ancient yews have been the subject of all manner of theories and myths about their origins, age and meanings. At school we were taught that the mound on which the Berkhamsted tree stands contained our towns plague victims; and yews were certainly once planted over graves to protect and purify the dead. There have also been more mundane explanations for the yews presence in churchyards. They were planted in these protected plots to provide wood for longbows and to keep their poisonous foliage out of the reach of browsing cattle; to provide decoration for the church, or as a memento mori.
The occurrence of old yews in old churchyards is reflected in the trees distribution. Yew is principally a species of well - drained chalk and limestone soils. In ancient woods it grows in the company of beech, maple and ash, and on sheer slopes such as Stoner Hill in Hampshire, it can look dramatic in winter, silhouetted against the white plumes of old mans beard. But yews sticky red berries are popular with birds, and bird - sown seedlings will colonise open chalk downland as well, forming dark thickets under which nothing else can grow.

Rooted in MYSTERY


It is now generally presumed that yews were planted in churchyards, not as emblems of mortality but because of their evergreen foliage, suggestive of immortality and resurrection. Yet there havcbeen difficulties in relating this to a Christian tradition. As more and more ancient yews have been examined by naturalists and antiquarians, the more it has seemed that many arc vastly older than the church alongside them. Evidence in the form of earthworks, local legends and the sheer physical bulk of many of the trees has suggested ages of up to at least 2,000 years.
In the 1940s. Vaughan Cornish surveyed many of the yews in British dioceses and parishes and concluded the oldest were not Christian plantings at all. They were the sacred trees of ancient religions, some Druidic, some Celtic. And like many pagan icons and practices, they were retained and sanctified by the Christian church.
Old yews have an irresistible aura of extreme antiquity, and it is hard not to believe that they antedate their attendant churches. At Hamblcdon in Surrey, there is a tree with a girth of 35 feet and an enormous spread. At Stedham, West Sussex, the yew is slightly thinner, shorter and squatter, and the trunk is held together by wire hawsers. Inside, the shelved surfaces of the dead wood have a lustrous, satiny finish, close to the texture of a wasps nest. In places, they are bleached like driftwood, and patches of colour break through - the orange of living yew - wood, a violet sheen of the kind sometimes seen in mother - of - pearl, small invasions of algae.
A campaign to plant yew cuttings in churchyards for the millennium saw 7,000 yew trees take root, propagated from 43 of the UKs oldest living trees, meanwhile the link between yews and sacred places remains a fascinating unsolved mystery.
Your countryside needs yew CL readers were invited by David Bellamy more than 20 years ago to take part in a yew survey run by The Conservation Foundation. Many country churches still display the certificates that authenticate the age of their tree, signed by the Archbishop of Canterbury and actor Robert Hardy. Now a new campaign - the Conservation Foundation and Ancient Yew Group lobbying for all trees over 300 years old to be protected with a Tree Preservation Order. If you have found, or hope to find an ancient yew, visit the AYG website where yews of size and significance are listed by county. There are instructions on what to look for and record and where to report your information, plus current thinking on yews and churchyards.