The Cedar of Lebanon
TREES
PLATE I
THE OAK
OF all our forest trees the Oak is undoubtedly the king. It is our most important tree, the monarch of our woods, full of noble dignity and grandeur in the summer sunshine, strong to endure the buffeting of the wintry gales. It lives to the great age of seven hundred years or more, and is a true father of the forest. We read of the Oak tree in the story books of long ago. There are many Oak trees mentioned in the Bible. In Greece the Oak was believed to be the first tree that God created, and there grew a grove of sacred Oaks which were said to utter prophecies. The wood used for the building of the good ship Argo was cut from this grove, and in times of danger the planks of the ship spoke in warning voices to the sailors.
In Rome a crown of Oak leaves was given to him who should save the life of a citizen, and in this country, in the days of the Druids, there were many strange customs connected with the Oak and its beautiful guest the mistletoe. The burning of the Yule log of Oak is an ancient custom which we trace to Druid times. It was lit by the priests from the sacred altar, then the fires in all the houses were put out, and the people relit them with torches kindled at the sacred log. Even now in remote parts of Yorkshire and Devonshire the Yule log is brought in at Christmas-time and half burned, then it is taken off the fire and carefully laid aside till the following year.
We know that in Saxon times this country was covered with dense forests, many of which were of Oak trees. Huge herds of swine fed on the acorns which lay in abundance under the trees; and a man, when he wished to sell his piece of forest, did not tell the buyer how much money the wood in it was worth, but how many pigs it could fatten. In times of famine the acorns used to be ground, and bread was made of the meal. There have been many famous Oak trees in England: one of these we have all heard of—the huge Oak at Boscobel in which King Charles II. hid with a great many of his men after he was defeated at the battle of Worcester.
I think you will have no difficulty in recognising an Oak tree (1) at any time of the year. Look at its trunk in winter: how dark and rough it is; how wide and spreading at the bottom to give its many roots a broad grip of the earth into which they pierce deeply. Then as the stem rises it becomes narrower, as if the tree had a waist, for it broadens again as it reaches a height where the branches divide from the main trunk. And what huge branches these are—great rough, dark arms with many crooked knots or elbows, which shipbuilders prize for their trade. These Oak-tree arms are so large and heavy that the tree would need to be well rooted in the ground to stand firm when the gale is tossing its branches as if they were willow rods.
The Oak tree does not grow to a great height. It is a broad, sturdy tree, and it grows very slowly, so slowly that after it is grown up it rarely increases more than an inch in a year, and sometimes not even that. But just because the Oak tree lives so leisurely, it outlasts all its companions in the forest except, perhaps, the yew tree, and its beautiful hard, close-grained wood is the most prized of all our timber.
In the end of April or early in May, the Oak leaves (2) appear; very soft and tender they are too at first, and of a pale reddish green colour. But soon they darken in the sunshine and become a dark glossy green. Each leaf is feather-shaped and has a stalk. The margin is deeply waved into blunt lobes or fingers, and there is a strongly-marked vein up the centre of the leaf, with slender veins running from it to the edge.