The Boscobel Oak: How to Keep Your Head in Hard Times

By 1652, Charles II had lost nearly lost it all – including his father and, most recently, the Battle of Worcester – to Oliver Cromwell. Keen on not following in his father’s footsteps and losing his head, too, Charles II needed to make it out of Britain sharpish.

He and his surviving guards rode like mad, choosing an indirect route in hopes he wouldn’t be too easy to catch.

Around about Bishop’s Wood, however, he realised Cromwell’s Roundheads were hot on his trail. Unsure if he could spare the time explaining the situation to any homeowners, Charles II realised his boyhood games were going to pay off. He was going to climb a tree.

A large oak tree stood near by. While it may be fun to climb a tree and survey the land in normal circumstances, this only made Charles sadder when he considered all he’d lost. Tragically short of a treehouse or hammock, all he could do was simply wrap his arms and legs around a branch big enough to hold him, and cling on.

Nothing to do now but wait.

And wait.

And wait!!

Until, finally, when fourteen hours had gone by, Charles realised he might be the only person awake in the whole county. An owl was watching him impatiently; he had the best branch. He knew it was time to risk his luck.

Carefully, he made his way down onto the ground. While it was sorely tempting to stay where he’d landed and finally fall asleep, he still valued his life. So on he trudged to the doors of Boscobel House.

Imagine their surprise when a bedraggled king asked to be let in the middle of the night! They weren’t dressed for company! They hadn’t even got out the good plates!

But Charles was beyond all that, happy enough to be given the little bread and cheese they could spare without waking the servants. The fewer people knew of his presence, the better.

Oh, he needed to hide that much, did he? The Boscobels knew just the place for him. Their priest hole. (And they'd prefer if Charles didn't ask questions about why their ancestors had built one, thank you.)

Charles rather hoped it had a bed. Alas, it did not. However, Lady Boscobel assured him, it was a tight enough squeeze that he could easily fall asleep against the wall and be supported by the other sides.

That sounded like a nightmare more than a good place for a nap, admittedly, but Charles had nothing to do but accept. And after all that time clinging to a tree, he even fell deeply asleep til morning.

When he was woken, he was told now was the best time to move. The Roundheads had carried on with their search and were no longer near enough to find him if he went by another route. Glad to be out of the priest hole, Charles and his guards called to the horses who had been patiently waiting nearby - presumably glad they hadn’t had to climb that tree - and completed the rest of his successful escape to France.

By 1660, however, Charles II’s escape abroad came to an end when the people of England decided that they missed Christmas - and dancing - and happiness - and put an end to the Cromwell protectorate.

Charles II returned to his home and was crowned King. And he couldn't have done it without a very typical oak tree in the very untypical county of Shropshire.