Through the Woods

“A wood should never be vast. The best woods are small, a few acres in extent, not much more than copses” (p. 82). H. E. Bates’s book is as paean of praise to these small woodlands in England. As the title suggests, the book takes the reader through the seasons, April to April. Bates describes changes in plants, animals, but also air and atmosphere.

“Children are never frightened in fields . . . But they are often frightened in woods, by the very mystery and seclusion of the place, by the sudden soft hushings of leaves, by the magnified echoes of feet, by the leaping up of rabbits, by the savage sudden screeching of unknown birds” (p. 42). Bates’s sentences are marvelous.

The few interruptions to the admiring descriptions of woodlands relate to people who misuse them. A favorite target is the keeper, the man (if there were any women, they were not mentioned) hired to prevent damage, especially poaching, to the pheasants needed for those riding to the hunt. Keepers suspect anyone walking in the woods of poaching, and this book centers on walking in woods. Unpleasant encounters ensue. Bates writes in 1936; I wonder if many keepers remain in 2024.

Particularly charming, the next-to-last chapter, “The Darling Buds of March,” describes with wonderful detail changes that occur in tree buds as spring is about to arrive. For example: “The first buds of elm are little fluffy French knots of dark pink wood securely sewn on the jagged branches. The gray-black buds of ash are like arrow heads of iron” (p. 137).

Agnes Miller Parker’s wood engravings, like the book’s prose, convey the feeling as well as the physical components of the woods. Presented without captions in the text, each is titled in the contents section in the front. They elegantly supplement the words to make a very worthy whole.

Reviewed by Priscilla Grundy in The Leaflet, Volume 11, Issue 3, March 2024.