The Lucombe oak at Dyffryn Gardens, Vale of Glamorgan, in January 2015
In May last year I blogged about some magnificent turkey oaks, Quercus cerris, in Llandaff Fields, Cardiff. You can read the post here.
Well if I thought that was a quirky Quercus, I have now seen one that is even more unusual – the so-called Lucombe oak, Quercus x hispanica ‘Lucombeana’. I first spotted it in January at the National Trust’s Dyffryn Gardens in the Vale of Glamorgan.
I thought at the time that you couldn’t really miss it, but when I went back in July I somehow couldn’t find it. Next time I looked at the earlier pictures and made a note that it was next to the rockery. I really didn’t recognise it with its leaves on!
The Lucombe oak at Dyffryn Gardens in January 2015
The same tree in September 2015
How do I know it’s a Lucombe oak? Well, luckily there’s a label…
A helpful label
I had to Google this unusual oak and much of the information in this post comes from London landscape consultant John Medhurst’s website (see here).
Quercus x hispanica is a hybrid between the turkey oak (Quercus cerris) and the cork oak (Quercus suber). The French botanist Jean-Baptiste Lamarck first named the tree and, thinking it came from Gibraltar, called it hispanica, meaning Spanish. Although there is some modern debate about whether Gibraltar is part of Spain!
There are several different offspring from a cross between these two parents but all are big like the turkey oak and have the dark green leaves of the cork oak. The bark also shows a mixture between the characteristics of the two parents.
A turkey oak, Quercus cerris, in Llandaff Fields in spring 2014
While the turkey oak always seems to be tall and statuesque, it strikes me that this Lucombe oak, while long-limbed, looks like a toddler wearing a grown-up’s long-sleeved jumper and waving the arms around.
The Lucombe oak is big but stocky
I am particularly taken by the long twisted branches
This is a cork oak, Quercus suber, on the Monte Catillo nature reserve in Italy – the image is from Wikimedia Commons
The Lucombe oak’s leaves are very similar to those of the cork oak, much darker than those of the turkey oak…
Dark green leaves of the Lucombe oak in Dyffryn Gardens
The leaves look evergreen, but obviously they fell off last winter.
These were colourful turkey oak leaves last autumn, although this year they have not been as wonderful
This is the bark of one of the turkey oaks in Llandaff Fields
This is the bark of the Lucombe oak in Dyffryn Gardens
The Lucombe oak’s bark looks very variable, as if the tree is a chimaera with different parts of it having different DNA…
Some of the Lucombe oak’s bark is corky and some is not
This particular tree has a lot of moss on the smoother sections of bark
The Lucombe oak is shaded in summer – and has a huge bulge at the base of its trunk, like a bustle
Ivy on the trunk
Lichen
Holly at the base of the trunk
But I haven’t told you why it’s called the Lucombe oak!
Apparently the first Lucombe oak was raised in Exeter around 1763 by a nurseryman called William Lucombe. All true Lucombe oaks today are clones of that original tree, grown in some way from grafts or cuttings. Lucombe himself cut down the original tree but kept the planks under his bed, to make his own coffin. But according to Wikipedia he lived to be 102 and by then the wood had rotted so timber from one of his younger Lucombe oak clones was used.
Lucombe oaks have fertile acorns but as it is a cross they don’t grow true to the tree they fall from and show a mixture of traits of the original turkey oak and cork oak grandparents.
Bye Mr Lucombe – I love your twirly bits…
I’m sad I have never seen this tree in autumn, as I do wonder whether the leaves make any kind of spectacle of themselves before they drop. Although I suspect they just go brown and call it a day. I also wonder what the new growth is like in spring, but unless I make a huge effort to follow this Lucombe oak in EVERY season, I suppose I will never know…
The Squirrelbasket 
Love your comparison of the Lucombe oak with a toddler wearing an oversized jumper. Great image!
Thanks! It made me laugh a bit when I thought of it, too. It would be a moss-green jumper, of course…
All the best 🙂
Oh, but of course! 😉
I would never have thought of an Oak being a cross or hybrid.
Do they get cork from the cork oak?
Is the Llandaff you mention where the ‘Bishop’ is named after?
Apparently it is the main source for cork for wine bottles (according to Wikipedia). I hate to admit that I get most of our wine in screw-tops these days as we have had so much spoilt wine from corked bottles in the past. Sorry!
And yes it is the Llandaff as in Bishop of Llandaff. The Llandaff area is a city within the city of Cardiff, as it has a cathedral. It’s also the name of the diocese, which covers most of South Wales. Since you ask, I looked up Bishop of Llandaff and learned a couple of things myself. The Dahlia is named after a particular Bishop, Pritchard Hughes, who died in 1938. And apparently there was once a Bishop of Llandaff called Uhtred in the 1140s – but that name may not ring a bell with you unless you are watching the current BBC drama The Last Kingdom…
All the best 🙂
Very interesting post. I love oaks. Some trivia about oaks:
Oaks hybridize at the drop of a hat. There’s speculation that oaks can migrate through pollen since acorns literally do not fall far from the tree just like the saying. Pollen on the other hand can travel very far on the wind, and fertilize an oak of a different species, and if enough pollen keeps coming and doing this eventually the original gene pool is overwhelmed by the migrating pollen’s gene pool and voila! the first oak species has migrated!
Yes cork comes from cork oaks.
Plants, unlike animals, can have different DNA in different parts of the plant. This is why cuttings from horizontal branches of an otherwise upright tree or shrub may not grow upright, and why roses may throw off canes with different colored flowers. Could be why you’re seeing different bark textures on different parts of the tree.
Could someone explain to this yankee how you pronounce ‘Llandaff’?
Thanks for all that – fascinating about the ease of hyridization.
You mention about different DNA and you may see I use the word chimaera (or chimera) about the bark – although you say animals can’t have different DNA in different parts, there does seem to be a rare phenomenon of animal chimerism, which I find amazing – especially when it affects humans.
I must admit I thought different roses on one plant came from the rose being grafted on to a different rootstock that sometimes does its own thing…
If you would like to pronounce Llandaff, the ending is easy, like “daffodil”. The first bit is halfway between Lan and Clan. Say Lan but breathe around the edge of your tongue at the same time and you may be somewhere near!
Thank you for all your comments.
Best wishes 🙂
Fascinating. I love to hear where things originate Pat and you’re always doing this.
When I first started writing poetry my pen name was ‘Cerris’ which came out of the blue and when I Googled I found Quercus cerris and I quite liked the ‘ornamental’ use. The name stuck for quite a while.
We’ve found that the catkins are thrown down by squirrels – maybe helping in the pollination process I guess.
Thanks – and thank goodness for Wikipedia (I have made a donation)!
I am still not quite sure what “cerris” actually means. I have seen it translated as mossy but that doesn’t seem related to the Latin or Greek words for mossy. And it’s similar to the Latin cereus, meaning waxy, but again not quite right. Who knows?
Nice name, though – although would you say Keris (as in the Welsh girl’s name Cerys) or Seris (like cirrus and circus and cereal)?
As for the squirrels, I doubt if they were trying to be helpful!
All the best 🙂
I used a hard /c/ so as in the Welsh girl’s name Pat. Hahaha. Thanks for the smile 🙂
An interesting post about a tree species I hadn’t heard of before. The cork oak is an old friend, familiar from living in Spain, where they probably outnumber the people and there are holm oaks in lesser numbers, but I didn’t know separate species may hybridise. Your reference as to how it was named intrigued me, so I’m trying to find out why the French botanist thought it came from Gibraltar in the first place. Best wishes
I can imagine them both being hot-sunny-weather trees.
No idea why Lamarck picked Gibraltar. Are there many trees on the rock?
All the best 🙂
Sorry to take so long to reply. There are a surprising number of trees around the town and in gardens, despite general lack of available space. There are native species up on the top in the Nature Reserve and a good number of ‘exotics’ in the Botanical Gardens. Next time I visit I will try to find out about that Lucombe Oak!
No rush, no problem.
All the best 🙂
Hi there,
A very interesting discussion. I am from Exeter in the South West of England and we have quite a few of these fantastic trees around. We also have a fair few Turkey oak but I’ve only spotted the one Cork oak. I am working on a long term project to record and showcase the trees of Exeter throughout the year and the Lucombe oak is one of them. Here is a link to the YouTube channel for this fascinating tree:
Any feedback welcome. Sorry if some of the videos are bit low quality.
Very educational video clips!
I am now following your blog.
I have such a soft spot for Exeter – and of all the English rugby teams the Exeter Chiefs have been my favourites for several years!
All the best 🙂
I have been working on a large drawing of a Lucombe Oak at Widey Woods in Plymouth. By measuring the girth I reckon that it is at least 250 years old. You can see the drawing here
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Lovely! I have also had a chance to look at more of your current tree work now here, plus the section called Fagus sylvatica. I must make a note to mention it the next time I do a tree news round-up.
All the best 🙂