Trees: the living link of history
Seona Anderson: November 1st 2023
“whilst you have fed upon my seigniories, disparked my parks and felled my forest woods, from my own windows torn my household coat, rased out my imprese, leaving me no sign, save men’s opinions and my living blood, to show the world I am a gentleman.” (RICHARD II, Act 3, Scene 1: Bolingbroke)
The recent felling of the Sycamore tree on Hadrian’s Wall is a powerful reminder of how important particular trees are in our landscapes, our cultural lives and our personal histories.
In the quote above Henry Bolingbroke, the future Henry IV, lists all of the abuses Richard II and his henchmen has committed against him. The felling of his trees might seem the least of worries when compared with banishment and disinheritance but it is a particularly long lasting form of dishonour.
Most trees have lifespans many times longer than humans, for example an oak can easily live 400 years and in some cases up to a 1000 years. A single oak tree could easily span 16 generations of the same family or potentially 40 generations. A venerable oak of 200 years in the time of Richard II’s reign (1377-1399) would have been a sapling in the time of Richard the Lionheart or King John, and a grandfather oak of 400 years would have been growing in the time of Edward the Confessor or William the Conqueror. An antique oak of 1000 years in Richard II’s reign could have been alive when Britain was still a Roman colony.
Richard II’s decision to destroy Bolingbroke’s parks and forests would have been as shocking an act in the 14th century as the felling of the Sycamore Gap Tree is to us today. It dishonoured both the man and the landscape, leaving it bare and uncertain of the future. There was certainly an economic value to the timber felled from Bolingbroke’s forest but the main aim from Shakespeare’s point of view was the dishonour it cast upon him. The felling of these trees cuts the living link between Bolingbroke’s ancestors and his descendants. None of his children or grandchildren would be able to visit or touch a tree which he or his ancestors had walked under or loved. Richard II wants to obliterate all traces of Bolingbroke, his lineage, his past and his future.
We still celebrate ancient trees and the living link they provide with the past and with particular individuals. A replacement oak for the Elizabeth I oak was planted by Elizabeth II in 1985 at Hatfield House. The Fortingale Yew is believed to be the oldest tree in Britain and may be many times older than 2000 years. The Tolpuddle Sycamore still stands in celebration of the martyrs who stood up for civil rights. Shakespeare’s contemporary, John Gerard, the herbalist and gardener, expressed a similar feeling of wonder and awe at the thought of the Cedars growing in Lebanon in his lifetime – “The Cedar trees grow upon the snowy mountains, as in Syria upon mount Libanus, on which there remain some even to this day, saith Bellonius, planted as is thought by Solomon himself.” (1597)
Shakespeare uses particular named trees as landmarks including the Duke’s Oak where the players meet in Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Herne’s Oak in Windsor Great Park where Falstaff waits in the Merry Wives of Windsor. There have been particular trees identified and celebrated as Herne’s Oak in Windsor in the centuries after the publication of the Merry Wives of Windsor including a 1799 etching by Samual Ireland.
Trees are not only landmarks for Shakespeare they are symbols of longevity, status, family, strength, ageing. Belarius in Cymbeline compares himself to a fruitful tree who was robbed of everything in one night, “Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit. But in one night a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.” Warwick in Henry VI Part 3 faces his own defeat in battle and described himself a noble Cedar felled, “Thus yields the cedar to the axe’s edge, whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, under whose shade the ramping lion slept, whose top branch overpeered Jove’s spreading tree and kept low shrubs from winter’s pow’rful wind.” Antony in Antony and Cleopatra laments his betrayal in Egypt and compares himself to a majestic tree destroyed, “this pine is barked that overtopped them all. Betrayed I am.”
Veneration of particular trees and of particular species of trees is a feature of many cultures around the world. Athena’s olive tree was sacred on the Acropolis of Athens and the oak tree was associated with Zeus, Jupiter and Thor in Greek, Roman and Norse Mythologies. The felling of the Sycamore Gap tree still has the power to shock us and the outcry emphasises how much modern society still values our ancient trees and their living link with the past.
More Information
Ancient Tree Forum Visit Ancient Tree Forum
Woodland Trust Ancient Tree Inventory Visit Ancient Tree Inventory
Shakespeare in the Royal Collection, Herne’s Oak Visit Herne's Oak in Shakespeare in Royal Collection