The life of this oak was saved in a peculiar way by “a pint of drink,” and the story was told me by the agent of an old lady, the previous owner.  It had been decided to fell the tree, and two professional sawyers, who were also “tree-fallers” (fellers), arrived one morning for the purpose with their axes and cross-cut saw.  They surveyed the prospect and agreeing that it presented a tough job, an adjournment was arranged to the neighbouring “Royal Oak” for a pint of drink before commencing operations.  Coming back, half an hour later, they had just stripped and rolled up their shirt sleeves, when the agent appeared on the road not far off.  “Hullo,” he shouted, “have you made a start?” “Just about to begin,” replied the head man.  “Well then, don’t,” said the agent, “the old lady died last night, and I must wait till the new owners have considered the matter.”  So the tree was saved, and curiously enough by its namesake the “Royal Oak.”  The new owner spared it, and later when it became my property I did likewise, for I should have considered it sacrilege to destroy the finest oak in the neighbourhood.  Some years after I had sold the farm I heard that the tree was blown down in a gale, its enormous head and widespread branches must have offered immense resistance to the wind, and the fall of it must have been great.

The most celebrated, if not the biggest oak in the New Forest is the Knightwood oak, not far from Lyndhurst; it is 17 feet in circumference, which would make it not less than 450 years old by the above rule.  It is strange to think that it may have been an acorn in the year 1469, in the reign of Henry VI., and that 200 years later it could easily have peeped over the heads of its neighbours in 1669, to see Charles II., who probably went riding along the main Christchurch road from Lyndhurst with a team of courtiers and court beauties, in all the pomp of royalty.  We know that in that year with reference to the waste of timber in the Forest during his father’s reign he was especially interested in the planting of young oaks, and enclosed a nursery of 300 acres for their growth.  It is also recorded that he did not forget the maids of honour of his court, upon whom he bestowed the young woods of Brockenhurst.

     “Oak before ash—­only a splash,
     Ash before oak—­a regular soak,”

is a very ancient proverb referring to the relative times of the leaves of these trees appearing in the spring, and is supposed to be prophetic of the weather during the ensuing summer.  I have, however, noticed for many years that the oak is invariably first, so that like some other prognostications, it seems to be unreliable.