Subterranean forests

Subterranean forests

Subterranean forests have been found throughout the country and around the world but when this subterranean forest in the Fens was first written about only the local inhabitants were aware of the wealth of raw material just below the surface of the land they ploughed.

“SUBTERRANEAN FOREST.–An immense subterranean forest, of which even tradition preserves no account, lies buried under a part of the fens between Lincoln and Boston ; although its existence is almost unknown, except to the thinly scattered population of the district. The soil consists mainly of rotted wood, mixed with a sort of earthy deposit, evidently left by the subsidence of a large body of water. On passing a lately ploughed piece, a stranger is surprised by observing heaps of wood, many loads to the acre, piled up over its surface, as if a crop of huge black logs had succeeded to the previous one of corn. These have been torn up by the plough ; and it is singular that after forty years of tillage, the yield of these logs in many places continues as great as ever. The occupiers ascribe the phenomenon to the gradual rising of the forest, which lies prostrated a foot or two under ground, though it is probably caused by the sinking of the top soil into a boggy substratum, which is called the sock. The trees force themselves up entire, announcing their approach to the surface by the decay of all verdure above them. When a farmer observes this indication, he digs down and removes the tree from its bed of centuries, and is frequently well rewarded for his trouble. The trees are all oak, and frequently of dimensions which would almost stagger belief. Some years ago the writer of this article saw one taken up which contained no less that 1440 cubic feet of timber ; and, so recently as the winter of 1836, he removed another, the bole alone of which contained nearly 1000 feet. The wood of these gigantic monarchs of the forest, when first bared, is sodden with moisture and apparently rotten ; but, after a short exposure to the air, becomes so hard that none but the best-tempered tools will touch it. It is nevertheless worked into rails and fencing, because the grain is so straight that it rends like a reed. Many gentlemen in the neighbourhood, have a few plain articles of furniture manufactured out of it, as matters of curiosity, as in time it becomes not only as hard, but as black as ebony, and is capable of the highest polish. Every tree is either plucked up from its roots, or snapped short about three feet from them ; and all appear to have fallen pretty much in the same way. It is probable that at some distant date an irruption of the sea may have done the havoc, aided, perhaps, by one of those tornadoes which even now, in a milder degree, are occasionally experienced thereabouts.”

Stamford Mercury, 20th April, 1838.