It always puzzled me that there are no ancient mulberries to be found in my neighbourhood of Spitalfields, the centre of London’s silk industry from the 17th century. So I was delighted when I was taken to visit the Bethnal Green mulberry, a gnarly old specimen which, in local lore, is understood to be more than 400 years old and is believed to be the oldest tree in the East End of London.

The battle-scarred trunk credit: The Gentle Author

I found it a poignant spectacle to view this venerable black mulberry. Damaged by a bomb in the Second World War, it has charring still visible upon its trunk which has split to resemble a Barbara Hepworth sculpture. Yet, in spite of its scars and the props that are required to support its tottering structure, the elderly tree produces a luxuriant covering of green leaves each spring and bears a reliably generous crop of succulent fruit every summer.

Little did I know that this encounter with such a remarkable mulberry would lead me all over London to visit its fellows in a quest to understand the significance of these ancient trees. Or that it would bring me back again to the East End to confront the controversy that has arisen over the Bethnal Green mulberry which could result in it being uprooted from the earth.

London’s ancient mulberries

Before long, I was contacted by several local people who invited me to view their ancient mulberry trees, sequestered in private gardens and yards, often predating the buildings which surround them today. Yet I also discovered mulberries are often to be found adorning many of the capital’s historic sites, such as the Charterhouse, the Tower of London, Charlton House, Middle Temple and King’s Bench Walk. In time, my growing fascination led me to meet Peter Coles who is currently undertaking a survey, Morus Londinium, inviting members of the public to contribute to a an online database.

Mulberry at the Tower of London credit: The Gentle Author

Peter shares my curiosity about these ancient mulberries. Traditionally, they are associated with the silk industry which is why I expected to find them in Spitalfields. Yet silk worms eat the leaves of the white mulberry (Morus alba), whereas almost all of the mulberries in this country are black (Morus nigra). James I imported around 100,000 black mulberry saplings in his abortive attempt to encourage the native silk industry. But his choice of black mulberry remains a mystery.

Nicholas Gesse’s The Perfect Use of Silk-wormes of 1607 (a translation of D’Olivier de Serres’ definitive On Silk & Mulberries) and William Stallenge’s Instructions for the Increasing of Mulberrie Trees of 1609, both confirm that, while both black and white mulberries may be used to feed silkworms, the white mulberry is the preferable choice. Perhaps, in the little ice age which occurred at the beginning of the 16th century, they chose the black form because it is a hardier strain?

The Syon House mulberry lies on its side credit: The Gentle Author

At Syon Park in West London, one of the gardeners took me into the water meadow beyond the cultivated garden, where what is believed to be the oldest mulberry in this country lies supine among the buttercups, stretching out its limbs like a weary old man relaxing in the long grass. Botanist, Chaplain & Physician to the Duke of Somerset, Dr William Turner planted black mulberries, of which this is the last survivor, and laid out physic gardens here, publishing his Names of Herbes at Syon in 1548.

“The fruit of the Mulberry tree looseth the belly and it is good for the stomach, but it is easily corrupt or rotten. The juice of Mulberries doth the same. If it be sodden in a brazen vessel and set out in the sun, it is good for the flowing of the humours, for eating sores, and for inflammation of the kernels under the chin, with a little honey.”

East End mulberry wars

Yet, learning of a controversy surrounding a misguided proposal to dig up the Bethnal Green Mulberry this year, I have discovered that it possesses a story of comparable longevity in East London. Growing in the grounds of the former London Chest Hospital, built by Victorian philanthropy next to Victoria Park, the Bethnal Green mulberry stands today in the middle of a development site for luxury flats. Four hundred years ago, these were the gardens of Bishop Bonner’s Palace and it is he who is credited with planting the mulberry tree.

Mulberry fruit credit: David Bishop/Getty

Astonishingly, it seemed that this history and a Tree Protection Order were insufficient to protect the venerable mulberry. Developer Crest Nicholson obtained a waiver from Tower Hamlets Senior Arboricultural Officer, Edward Buckton, permitting them to prune it, dig it up and move it to clear the way for their proposed development, which has not yet even been submitted to the council for approval.

The decision was made under delegated powers by Buckton on the basis of a report commissioned by the developer from planning consultants ‘Tree: Fabrik’ who conveniently dismissed any notion that this mulberry is a veteran specimen, suggesting instead that it is a more recent planting which might easily survive having its roots and branches pruned, and being moved out of the way in spring.

The first that was known publicly of this decision was when an announcement was posted on a lamppost in Bethnal Green, precluding the possibility of any consultation.

Enter Tom Ridge, former geography teacher and veteran local heritage campaigner, who issued Judicial Review proceedings, claiming that the council had acted unlawfully in granting permission to dig up the tree; the Council agreed that its decision should be quashed, so Mr Ridge has for the moment obtained a stay of execution for the ancient mulberry.

As expert witness, Ridge employed Chartered Arboriculturist Julian Forbes-Laird who was the technical editor of the British Standard for tree protection. Forbes-Laird’s report as submitted to the High Court makes compelling reading. “I identify the Mulberry as a veteran tree,” he wrote, “ I cannot understand how any reasonable arboriculturist could conclude otherwise.” He quotes Gascoigne’s map of 1703 confirming the location of the Bishops Hall and even refers to a woodcut in Foxe’s Book of Martyrs published in 1563 that illustrates the Bishop flogging a martyr in his garden beneath the branches of a young tree which he suggests is the mulberry in question.

He describes the commemorative inkwell kept at the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel, dating from 1915, with a brass plate explaining it was made from a branch of the mulberry beneath which Bishop Bonner sat while deciding which heretics to execute.

These scraps of evidence confirm a long-standing cultural history attached to the Bethnal Green mulberry, which was already considered to be ancient more than a century ago. A feeble claim by the developer that concrete found among the roots confirms the recent origin of the tree receives short shrift from Forbes-Laird, who points out that the Romans used concrete to build the Pantheon. He confirms, “there is no evidence that the Mulberry stands upon modern made ground, meaning that it could, indeed, be as old as is believed.”

Most sobering is Forbes-Laird’s conclusion, “Overall, I consider that the intended tree works offer very little chance of the tree’s survival.” Thankfully, Tom Ridge won the Judicial Review and, in a Consent Order sealed by the High Court in July, the council’s decision was quashed.

Even now the Bethnal Green mulberry is not saved. In their current proposals, Crest Nicholson have placed a block of luxury flats exactly where the tree grows, which means that Tower Hamlets planning committee may be confronted with a choice between the mulberry or the building when the application is considered.

Yet it would be a simple matter to move the proposed building within the ample grounds of the former London Chest Hospital to allow the mulberry sufficient space to flourish. With a little imagination, the flats could even be named Mulberry Court.

The Gentle Author writes daily about the culture of London and the East End at spitalfieldslife.com