ornament of the garden. Dr. Falconer has ascertained satisfactorily
that it is only seventy-five years old: annual rings, size, etc.,
afford no evidence in such a case, but people were alive a few years
ago who remembered well its site being occupied in 1782 by a Kujoor
(Date-palm), out of whose crown the Banyan sprouted, and beneath
which a Fakir sat. It is a remarkable fact that the banyan hardly
ever vegetates on the ground; but its figs are eaten by birds, and
the seeds deposited in the crowns of palms, where they grow, sending
down roots that embrace and eventually kill the palm, which decays
away. This tree is now eighty feet high, and throws an area 300 feet*
[Had this tree been growing in 1849 over the great palm-stove at Kew,
only thirty feet of each end of that vast structure would have been
uncovered: its increase was proceeding so rapidly, that by this time
it could probably cover the whole. Larger banyans are common in
Bengal; but few are so symmetrical in shape and height. As the tree
gets old, it breaks up into separate masses, the original trunk
decaying, and the props becoming separate trunks of the different
portions.] in diameter into a dark, cool shade. The gigantic limbs
spread out about ten feet above the ground, and from neglect during
Dr. Wallich's absence, there were on Dr. Falconer's arrival no more
than eighty-nine descending roots or props; there are now several
hundreds, and the growth of this grand mass of vegetation is
proportionably stimulated and increased. The props are induced to
sprout by wet clay and moss tied to the branches, beneath which a
little pot of water is hung, and after they have made some progress,
they are inclosed in bamboo tubes, and so coaxed down to the ground.
They are mere slender whip-cords before reaching the earth, where
they root, remaining very lax for several months; but gradually, as
they grow and swell to the size of cables, they tighten, and
eventually become very tense. This is a curious phenomenon, and so