Friday, 21 January 2011

the mysterious death of 'Paul's Scarlet'

I have finally  finished removing the stump of the dead Crataegus laevigata 'Paul's Scarlet'.  It took all of this afternoon and half of yesterday, and was one of those unappealing jobs I should have done last year, when it died.  I am gently baffled that even after exhuming the remains I can't really say what it died of.

It was planted in February 2001, after I'd spent several years admiring specimens at The Chelsea Flower Show.  Hilliers and Notcutts both used to be very keen on them.  The flowers are red, and double so you don't get any fruit.  Our tastes sometimes change in gardening, and if I were choosing a tree now it wouldn't be that one, so I should be grateful that mine has saved me from my previous error of judgement by quitting the scene.  It was planted as a relatively young thing, only about 1.2m high, and until last year grew vigorously.  It did turn out not to be at all root-firm, and leant out into the drive where I park my car, and required a prop, and once tempted a dreadful man who was supposed to be looking after the house while we were on holiday to prune it hideously, but apart from that it did very well.  I have read that 'Paul's Scarlet is often not root-firm when young.  Last summer, in the space of a few days, the leaves began to curl inwards, then went brown at the edges, then brown all over and remained on the tree, which is generally a bad sign.  We cut the top growth off leaving a bit at the base to act as a lever for getting the stump out.

I should have got the stump out at once, especially as honey fungus had to be considered as a possible cause of death.  When an established woody plant dies that suddenly catastrophic root failure is highly likely to be involved.  The garden doesn't show any definite signs of virulent honey fungus infestation, but you never know.  I didn't tackle it at once, because it was very dry at the time and the ground was too hard, and then I had lots of other urgent things to do, and it is human nature to postpone your least favourite tasks, and I wasn't convinced it was honey fungus.  It was growing close (too close) to a Mahonia x media, a Chaenomeles and a cut-leafed elder which all looked absolutely fine.  A colleague suggested that maybe the graft had failed.

Growing close to so many neighbours and next to the oil tank meant that swinging the axe and the pickaxe at the remains wasn't an option.  I dug round the stump, sawed through the roots, traced each back as far as possible and wrenched it out, and by heaving the stump back and forth (this is why you must not cut the trunk off at ground level) eventually got that out too.  Sawing at roots in the bottom of a hole is hard on the back, and the cats had been using the bed as a handy latrine (maybe 'Paul's Scarlet' died of cat crap poisoning?).  Even Pollyanna could not have convinced herself that it was a fun gardening job.

The smaller roots had all vanished, so something bad had gone on down there.  There was some white mycelium between bark and wood on the remaining roots, which the RHS would say was conclusive proof of honey fungus, though it wasn't as thick as a mushroom skin.  I didn't find any bootlaces, or any mycelium on the trunk.  But honey fungus varies a lot in its ability to kill.  Some strains are virulently pathogenic, some only attack dead or dying plants.  I still don't know whether what I found was the cause of death, or arrived after something else had delivered the coup de grace.  I've found it in the past sometimes, but only on things that I was fairly sure had died of other causes, either drought or cold.  I could send some roots for analysis to the RHS, but I think I'll just take them to the tip.  I'm not sure I want the garden to be screened for something for which there is no cure.  Better to go on in ignorance and hope.

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