The Natural History of Selborne, Vol. 1 | Page 3

of what is called a white malm, a sort of rotten or
rubble stone, which, when turned up to the frost and rain, moulders to
pieces, and becomes manure to itself.
Still on to the north-east, and a step lower, is a kind of white land,
neither chalk nor clay, neither fit for pasture nor for the plough, yet
kindly for hops, which root deep in the freestone, and have their poles
and wood for charcoal growing just at hand. The white soil produces
the brightest hops.
As the parish still inclines down towards Wolmer Forest, at the juncture
of the clays and sand the soil becomes a wet, sandy loam, remarkable
for timber, and infamous for roads. The oaks of Temple and
Black-moor stand high in the estimation of purveyors, and have
furnished much naval timber; while the trees on the freestone grow
large, but are what workmen call shaky, and so brittle as often to fall to
pieces in sawing. Beyond the sandy loam the soil becomes a hungry,
lean sand, till it mingles with the forest; and will produce little without
the assistance of lime and turnips.

LETTER II.
In the court of Norton farmhouse, a manor farm to the north-west 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 the 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 centre of the village, and near the church, is a square piece of
ground surrounded by houses, and vulgarly called "The Plestor." 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 will appear from what will be said
farther concerning this area, when we enter on the antiquities of
Selborne.
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 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 sixty feet. These trees were sold for twenty pounds
apiece.
In the centre 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 neighbouring 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
levelled. 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