THE ELIOT OAK
When John Eliot had become a power among the Indians, with far-reaching sagacity he judged it best to separate his converts from the whites, and accordingly, after much inquiry and toilsome search, gathered them into a community at Natick—an old Indian name formerly interpreted as "a place of hills," but now generally admitted to mean simply "my land." Anticipating the policy which many believe must eventually be adopted with regard to the entire Indian question, Eliot made his settlers land-owners, conferred upon them the right to vote and hold office, impressed upon them the duties and responsibilities of citizenship, and taught them the rudiments of agriculture and the mechanic arts.
In the summer of 1651, the Indians built a framed edifice, which answered, as is the case to-day in many small country towns, the double purpose of a schoolroom on week-days, and a sanctuary on the Sabbath. Professor C.E. Stowe once called that building the first known theological seminary of New England, and said that for real usefulness it was on a level with, if not above, any other in the known world.
It is assumed that two oaks, one of the red, and the other of the white, species, of which the present Eliot Oak is the survivor, were standing near this first Indian church. The early records of Eliot's labors make no mention of these trees. Adams, in his Life of Eliot, says: "It would be interesting if we could identify some of the favorite places of the Indians in this vicinity," but fails to find sufficient data. Bigelow (or Biglow, according to ancient spelling), in his History of Natick, 1830, states: "There are two oaks near the South Meeting-house, which have undoubtedly stood there since the days of Eliot." It is greatly to be regretted that the writer did not state the evidence upon which his conclusion was based.
Bacon, in his History of Natick, 1856, remarks: "The oak standing a few rods to the east of the South Meeting-house bears every evidence of an age greater than that of the town, and was probably a witness of Eliot's first visit to the 'place of hills.'" It would be quite possible to subscribe to this conclusion, while dissenting entirely from the premises. It will be noticed that Bacon relies upon the appearance of the tree as a proof of its age. His own measurement, fourteen and a half feet circumference at two feet from the ground, is not necessarily indicative of more than a century's growth.
The writer upon Natick, in Drake's Historic Middlesex, avoids expressing an opinion. "Tradition links these trees with the Indian Missionary." For very long flights of time, tradition—as far as the age of trees is concerned—cannot at all be relied upon; within the narrow limits involved in the present case, it may be received with caution.
The Red Oak which stood nearly in front of the old Newell Tavern, was the original Eliot Oak. Mr. Austin Bacon, who is familiar with the early history and legends of Natick, states that "Mr. Samuel Perry, a man who could look back to 1749, often said that Mr. Peabody, the successor to Eliot, used to hitch his horse by that tree every Sabbath, because Eliot used to hitch his there."
This oak was originally very tall; the top was probably broken off in the tremendous September gale of 1815; as it was reported to be in a mutilated condition in 1820. Time, however, partially concealed the disaster by means of a vigorous growth of the remaining branches. In 1830, it measured seventeen feet in circumference two feet from the ground. It had now become a tree of note, and would probably have monopolized the honors to the exclusion of the present Eliot Oak, had it not met with an untimely end. The keeper of the tavern in front of which it stood had the tree cut down in May, 1842. This act occasioned great indignation, and gave rise to a lawsuit at Framingham, "which was settled by the offenders against public opinion paying the costs and planting trees in the public green." A cartload of the wood was carried to the trial, and much of it was taken home by the spectators to make into canes and other relics,
"The King is dead, long live the King!"
Upon the demise of the old monarch, the title naturally passed to the White Oak, its neighbor, another of the race of Titans, standing conveniently near, of whose early history very little is positively known beyond the fact that it is an old tree; and with the title passed the traditions and reverence that gather about crowned heads.