THE SHELTON AND ELIZABETH OAKS. 47 may be, it is at least certain that the tree may well have been a remarkable object even at the period assigned to it by tradition, namely, in the beginning of the fourteenth century; and if so, this tree must be at least seven hundred years old. Its branches are said to have once covered a Scotch acre of ground; but its historical interest has rendered it a prey to the curiosity of the stranger, and its limbs have gradually disappeared, till but little remains except its trunk. 66 Suckling, in his History of Suffolk, mentions the following anecdote : During the civil wars a brave cavalier, Sir John Rous, was preserved when a party of Roundheads came down to Henham with a warrant for his arrest, by his lady concealing him in the hollow trunk of a venerable tree, known by the name of the 'Henham Hill Oak.' This tree, being used by the family as a summer-house, was luckily provided with a door faced with bark, and which closed so artificially that strangers not aware of the circumstance would never suspect that the tree was otherwise than sound. The Roundheads used threatening language to the lady to make her declare her husband's retreat, but she courageously withstood all their menaces. They remained at the hall for two or three days; during which time she, not daring to trust any one with the secret, stole softly out at night to supply her lord with food, and to assure herself of his safety." An oak, called the "Shelton Oak," growing near Shrewsbury, was celebrated for Owen Glyndwr having mounted on it to observe the battle of Shrewsbury, fought on the 21st of June, 1403, between Henry IV. and Harry Percy. The battle had commenced before Glyndwr had arrived, and he ascended the tree to see how the day was likely to go; finding that Hotspur was beaten, and the force of the king was overpowering, he retired with his 12,000 men to Oswestry. 66 Queen Elizabeth's Oak," in Hatfield Park, is said to be the tree under which Elizabeth was sitting when the news of her sister's death was brought to her. A great portion of the trunk has been protected by a lead covering, and it is enclosed by a low fence. Queen Victoria, when she visited Hatfield House in 1846, was much interested with the memorial, and, as a memento of her visit, had a small branch lopped from the trunk. The "Greendale Oak" is another celebrated monarch of the forest. It adorns Welbeck Park. In 1724 a roadway was cut through its venerable trunk, higher than the entrance to Westminster Abbey, and sufficiently capacious to permit a carriage and four horses to pass through it. About 1646 this oak was 88 feet high, with a trunk girthing 33 feet 1 inch; the diameter of the head, 81 feet. In 1779, Major Rooke gave the dimensions thus: "Circumference of the trunk above the arch 35 feet 3 inches; height of the arch, 10 feet 3 inches; width of the arch, about the middle, 6 feet 3 inches; height to the top branch, 54 feet." The major considered it to be above seven hundred years old. Viewing this venerable relic, we are reminded of the following noble lines: 66 "Than a tree a grander child earth bears not. To forests of immeasurable extent, Which time confirms, which centuries waste not? The consecrating touch of time. Time watch'd Of goat and deer, the schoolboy's knife, and sprang Time gave it seasons, and Time gave it years; Time knew the sapling when gay summer's breath The "Sidney Oak," at Penshurst Park, is a handsome tree, and would be noticeable apart from its associations. It stands alone in a bottom, close by Lancup Well, a fine sheet of water. The oak is a very large one, and has yet abundant leaves, though the trunk has long been quite hollow. At three feet from the ground the trunk measures 26 feet in girth; a century ago it measured 22 feet. To commemorate the birth of Sir Philip Sidney, "whose spirit was too high for the court, and his integrity too stubborn for the cabinet," this tree is said to have been planted. In his description of Penshurst, Ben Jonson thus refers to this tree: "That taller tree, which of a nut was set At his great birth where all the Muses met." Waller tried to impress his love to "Saccharissa" upon it: "Go, boy, and carve this passion on the bark Of yonder tree, which stands the sacred mark Of noble Sidney's birth." We need only allude to the doubt which has been expressed respecting the identity of the tree. Gifford says the tree was cut down by mistake in 1768; but it hardly seems possible that Sidney's Oak could have been destroyed by mistake; at any rate, there is no doubt at Penshurst that it is yet standing, and the tree so named agrees well with the accounts published previously to 1768 of the Sidney Oak. Southey was of opinion that it had been destroyed: Upon a verdant plot of ground, opposite the "Green Man," on the road to Barnet, is a venerable relic, still standing, in the last stage of decay, called "Turpin's Oak." According to tradition, it has weathered some centuries. The notorious Dick Turpin was in his time accustomed to take up his station behind this tree when he was intent upon a freebooting errand in this part of the country; in other words, this tree was his ambush. Its closeness to the high-road rendered it a very desirable spot for Dick, as well as for highwaymen generally, who, about a century and a quarter ago, were continually robbing the mails, TURPIN'S AND CHARLES'S OAKS. 51 as well as commercial travellers (bag-men), proceeding to and fro between London and the north of England. From time to time there have been extracted from the bark of this oak pistol-balls, which had been discharged at the trunk to deter highwaymen, should any have been at hand, from attacking travelling parties. The late Mr. R. Nuthall, solicitor to the East India Company, was upon one occasion stopped in his carriage by two highwaymen, who came upon him from behind this oak, as he was proceeding to his country-house at Monken Hadley, when the above gentleman, being armed with pistols, wounded one of the thieves so severely, that he afterwards died of the effects. This tree still goes in the neighbourhood under the name of "Turpin's Oak." Imagination can scarcely conceive adventures more romantic, or distresses more severe, than those which attended Prince Charles's escape from the fatal battle of Worcester. One of the adventures consisted in his taking refuge in an oak in Boscobel Wood. "At the house of John Penderell they learned that the gallant Colonel William Carlos was concealing himself in the vicinity: Charles instantly sent for him, and the meeting was an affectionate one. From the number of soldiers who were scouring the neighbourhood, it was evident that either to remain in the cottage or in the wood would be alike attended with imminent danger. It was proposed, therefore, that they should conceal themselves among the branches of the thickest oak they could find. In this position the Prince passed the third day of his wanderings. It was the most critical situation in which he had yet found himself. From his insecure hiding-place he could perceive the redcoated gentry searching in all directions for him, while some of them approached so closely as to enable him to overhear the maledictions they were pleased to heap upon his head for the trouble he gave them in seeking him out. Overcome, however, by his recent fatigues, a portion of these agonising hours was passed in a disturbed sleep. With Charles's head resting on his lap, Colonel Carlos watched over the slumbers of his young master, and prevented the possibility of his fall." Dr. Stukeley, the celebrated antiquary, about a century ago, mentions that the "Royal Oak" was standing in his time. "A bow-shot from Boscobel House, just by a horse-track passing through the wood, stands the royal oak, into which the king and his companion climbed by means of the hen-roost ladder, when they judged it no longer safe to stay in the house, the family reaching them victuals with the nuthook. The tree is now enclosed with a brick-wall, the inside whereof D |