In the court of Norton farm-house, a manor farm to the northwest of the
village, on the White Malms, stood within these twenty years a
broad-leaved elm, or wych hazel, _ulmus folio latissimo scabro_, of Ray,
which, though it had lost a considerable leading bough in the great
storm in the year 1703, equal to a moderate tree, yet, when felled,
contained eight loads of timber; and, being too bulky for a carriage,
was sawn off at seven feet above the butt, where it measured near eight
feet in diameter. This elm I mention to show to what a bulk planted elms
may attain, as this tree must certainly have been such from its
situation.
In the center of the village, and near the church, is a square piece of
ground, surrounded by houses, and commonly called the Plestor. Sir Adam
Gurdon, in conjunction with his wife Constantia, in the year 1271,
granted to the prior and convent of Selborne all his right and claim to
a certain place, _placea_, called _La Pleystow_, in the village
aforesaid, “_in liberam, puram, et perpetuam elimosinam_.” This
Pleystow, _locus ludorum_, or play-place, is a level area, near the
church, of about forty-four yards by thirty-six, and is known now by the
name of the Plestor. It continues still—as it was in old times—to be the
scene of recreation for the youths and children of the neighborhood, and
impresses an idea on the mind that this village, even in Saxon times,
could not be the most abject of places, when the inhabitants thought
proper to assign so spacious a spot for the sports and amusements of its
young people. In the midst of this spot stood in old times a vast oak,
with a short, squat body, and huge horizontal arms extending almost to
the extremity of the area. This venerable tree, surrounded with stone
steps, and seats above them, was the delight of old and young, and a
place of much resort in summer evenings, where the former sat in grave
debate, while the latter frolicked and danced before them. Long might it
have stood had not the amazing tempest in 1703 overturned it at once, to
the infinite regret
of the inhabitants and the vicar, who bestowed several pounds in setting
it in its place again; but all his care could not avail; the tree
sprouted for a time, then withered and died. This oak I mention to show
to what a bulk planted oaks also may arrive; and planted this tree must
certainly have been, as appears from what is known concerning the
antiquities of the village.
On the Blackmoor estate there is a small wood, called Losel’s, of a few
acres, that was lately furnished with a set of oaks of a peculiar growth
and great value; they were tall and taper like firs, but, standing near
together, had very small heads—only a little brush, without any large
limbs. About twenty years ago the bridge at the Toy, near Hampton Court,
being much decayed, some trees were wanted for the repairs that were
fifty feet long without a bough, and would measure twelve inches
diameter at the little end. Twenty such trees did a purveyor find in
this little wood, with this advantage, that many of them answered the
description at fifty feet. These trees were sold for £20 a piece.
In the center of this grove there stood an oak, which, though shapely
and tall on the whole, bulged out into a large excrescence about the
middle of the stem. On this a pair of ravens had fixed their residence
for such a series of years, that the oak was distinguished by the title
of the Raven-tree! Many were the attempts of the neighboring youths to
get at this eyry; the difficulty whetted their inclinations, and each
was ambitious of surmounting the arduous task; but when they arrived at
the swelling, it jutted out so in their way, and was so far beyond their
grasp, that the most daring lads were awed, and acknowledged the
undertaking to be too hazardous. So the ravens built on, nest upon nest,
in perfect security, till the fatal day arrived in which the wood was to
be leveled. It was in the month of February, when these birds usually
sit. The saw was applied to the butt; the wedges were inserted into the
opening; the woods echoed to the heavy blows of the beetle or mallet;
the tree nodded to the fall; but still the dam sat on. At last, when it
gave way, the bird was flung from her nest; and though her parental
affection deserved a better fate, was whipped down by the twigs, which
brought her dead to the ground.