Elegy to a 200 year old beech tree

A local landmark is no more.

By historian Andrew Berriman

The beech is such a noble tree, in all seasons. Along with the oak and the ash, it is my favourite tree. And it is by far the pre-eminent tree of the chalky South Downs. Despite its height it can root very shallowly in just a few inches of soil, above the deep chalk. This gives it a great advantage over more deeply-rooted species of tree, but this also explains why so many beech trees fell during the Great Storm of 1987. At about 1.20a.m, just after Hallowe’en Night last year a much-loved beech fell victim to the stormy weather. Half of this magnificent tree split away in the high winds, and fell alongside the City Wall in Market Avenue. The remaining half had to be cut down, with the trunk now little more than a stump.

I must mark its passing, in the form of an elegy. We can’t let it leave us without letting it know just how much pleasure it gave all of us in Chichester, down the years. On my Walls Walks, as Treasurer of the Walls Trust, I always paused at this magnificent beech.

It stood on earth which had originally formed the internal sloping bank of the Roman city Wall. When first planted it was part of the garden boundary of Cawley Priory, which once had been owned by the family whose most famous, or infamous, son was the regicide M.P. William

Cawley. It was he, of course, who had signed King Charles’ death warrant in 1649. In more recent times, this garden became the Cawley Priory car park.

It’s not easy to to date trees accurately, but this tree had stood there for well over 200 years, maybe a good deal longer. Its total girth made it by far the largest of any tree in Chichester. It had been pollarded at an early stage, so this explains its mighty trunk. Pollarded trees have their crown cut off at about six foot above the ground, to encourage new growth above the browse line, so they cannot be eaten by deer. For some years the tree has grown patches of plate fungi, which is a sign of incipient decay. However, during the summer of 2022 with its prolonged drought, its leafy canopy of soft, pale green foliage was simply lovely. Perhaps it was a final burst, a swansong for a tree which may have known that its end was nigh. This does happen with trees.

It is fortunate, though poignant, that a photograph of the tree’s lower branches and trunk appears on page 134 of my recently published book, ‘In Search of Chichester’ (£15), which can be purchased from Kim’s Bookshop in South Street. In chapter 39 I wrote about this tree, as one of my four favourite trees within Chichester’s City Walls. Now it is no more.

A friend, who lives opposite the beech, has collected and planted some of its seeds, so that the tree will not be wholly lost to us. With luck these seeds will take root, and bring pleasure down the years to future generations of Cicestrians yet unborn. Let’s hope so. Shown here are some images of this tree, so atmospheric and poignant. A tree has such beauty.