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suffering from ague, for the purpose of transferring to them their
malady: this they did by pegging a lock of their hair into one of
the trees, and then, by a sudden wrench, transferring the lock from
their heads to the Oak, and with the lock the ague.
In Germany, there still exists a custom of creeping through an
Oak clbft to cure hernia and other disorders. There was, near
Wittstock, in Altmark, a bushy Oak, the branches of which had
grown together again at some distance from the stem, leaving open
spaces between them. Whoever crept through these spaces was
freed from his malady, whatever it might be, and many crutches
lay about, which had been thrown away by visitors to the tree
whose ailments had been cured. In Russia, a similar custom is
extant, the favourite tree there being the Quercus Ilex.
A belief that Oak-trees were the homes of Dryads, Hamadryads,
spirits, elves, and fairies has existed since the days of
the ancient Greeks. Pindar speaks of a Hamadryad as “ doomed
to a term of existence coeval with the Oak.” Callimachus represents
Melia “ deeply sighing for her coeval Oak,” and tells us that
“ The Dryads laugh when vernal showers return ;
O’er Autumn’s fading leaves the Dryads mourn.”
Preston, in his translation of Apollonius, makes a Hamadryad
plead in vain for her existence, threatened by the destrucition of
the Oak in which she dwelt:—
“ As in the mountain, with repeated stroke,
The churlish fellow felled the stubborn Oak;
Impious, he scorned the Hamadryad’s prayer,
And smote the tree coeval with the fair.
With streaming tears she pleads a suppliant strain
To that unfeeling chui l, but pleads in vain.
‘ Oh, rustic, stay, nor wound the hallowed rind.
For ages with that stem I live entwined.’ ”
In Germany, the holes in the trunks of Oaks are thought to
be utilised by the elves inhabiting the trees as means of entry
and e x it; in pur own country, Oaks have always been reputed as
the trees in whose boughs elves delighted to find shelter. The
fairies, too, were fond of dancing around Oaks: thus Tighe, apostrophising
the monarch of the forest, exclaims:—
“ The fairies from their nightly haunt,
In copse, or dell, or round the trunk revered
Of Herne’s moon-silvered Oak, shall chase away
Each fog, each blight, and dedicate to peace
Thy classic shade.”
In these lines allusion is made to a famous tree in Windsor
Forest, one of a long series of celebrated Oaks—“ lusty trees,”
which, as Robert Turner writes, England “ did once so flourish
with, that it was called Druina by some,” One of these, known
as the Cadenham Oak, in the New Forest, is said, like the Glastonbury
Thorn, to mark the birthday of our Lord by budding on
Christmas Day. Another, renowned as the Royal Oak, is reverp
f a n t 1901*©, l9©g©T^/, ari^ Isijricy,
enced as having been the hiding-place of Charles 11., after the
battle of Worcester. In this tree, not far from Boscobel House,
the king, and his companion, Col. Careless, or Carless, resorted
when they thought it no longer safe to remain in the house—the
family giving them victuals on a Nut-hook. From this tree Charles
gathered some Acorns, and set them himself in St. James’s Park:—
“ Blest Charles then to an Oak his safety owes;
The Royal Oak, which now in songs shall live.
Until it reach to heaven with its boughs—
Boughs that for loyalty shall garlands give.”
In many parts of England, Oak-branches are suspended over
doorways, and gilded Oak-leaves and Oak-Apples are worn, on
Royal Oak Day (May 29th), in celebration of King Charles’s restoration,
and his preservation in the Boscobel Oak, which is still
extant.
Seven Oaks have given a name to a village in K en t; and
Dean Stanley has described a row of seven Oaks standing at a particular
spot in Palestine to which the following curious legend is
locally attached :—After Cain had murdered his brother, he was
punished by being compelled to carry the dead body of Abel during
the lengthened period of five hundred years, and then to bury it in
this place. Upon doing so, he planted his staff to mark the grave,
and out of this staff grew up the seven Oak trees.
The aged Oaks of Germany excited the wonder and respedl of
Tacitus, who, speaking of one of the giants of the Hercynian forest,
exclaims : “ Its majestic grandeur surpasses all belief; no axe has
ever touched i t ; contemporary with the creation of the world, it is
a symbol of immortality.” Sacred trees, or pillars formed of living
trunks of trees, many of which were Oaks, were to be found in
ancient Germany, called Irmenseule. The world-tree of Romowe,
the ancient sacred centre of the Prussians, was an evergreen Oak.
The Oak of St. Louis at Vincennes, and the Oak of the Partisans
at St. Ouen, are trees regarded with reverence by the French.
Evelyn considers that the wood used for our Saviour’s cross
was Oak ; founding his belief on the statements made by divers
learned men who had studied the subject, and “ upon accurate
examination of the many fragments pretended to be parcels of it.”
The same author speaks of “ the fatal praeadmonition of Oaks
bearing strange leaves ” ; and tells us that sleeping under Oak-
trees will cure paralysis, and recover those whom the malign
influence of the Walnut-tree has smitten. Paulus, a Danish
physician, averred that one or two handfuls of small Oak-buttons
mingled with Oats given to black horses will change them in a few
days to a fine dapple-grey. Bacon says that there is an old tradition
that if boughs of Oak be put into the earth, they will bring
forth wild V in e s; he also remarks that in his day country people,
had “ a kind of prediction that if the Oake-apple, broken, be full
of wormes, it is a signe of a pestilent yeare.” It is said that when.
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