The New Forest: Its History and Its Scenery

by John R. Wise

As far as mere written testimony goes, we have nothing to set against their evidence, except Domesday, and the negative proof of The Chronicle. Not one word does The Chronicler, who, be it remembered, personally knew the Conqueror[21]—who has related each minute event of his reign, exposed each shortcoming, and branded each crime—say of the cruelty of the afforestation. Evidence like this, coming from such an authority, is in the highest degree important. The silence is most suggestive. It is impossible to believe, that so faithful an historian, had it been committed, should never have hinted at the devastation of so much property, and the double crime of cruelty and profanity in destroying alike the inhabitants and their churches.

But the briefest analysis of Domesday, and a comparison of its contents with those of the survey made in Edward the Confessor’s reign, will more clearly show the nature and extent of the afforestation than any of the Chroniclers. From it we find that about two-thirds of the district, including some thirty manors, was entirely afforested. But it by no means carries out the account that the villages were destroyed and the inhabitants banished, or, according to others, murdered. In some cases, as on Eling manor, it is noted that the houses are still standing and the inmates living in the King’s Forest. Further, we find that some of the manors, as at Hordle and Bashley, though considerably lessened, kept up their value. Others, as at Efford, actually doubled their former assessments. Still more remarkable, some again, as at Brockenhurst, Sway, and Eling, though reduced in size, increased one-third and two-thirds in value. One explanation can alone be given to such facts—that only the waste lands were enclosed, and the cultivated spared.

That this was the case we know for certain, for it is expressly stated that, in some instances, as at Walhampton, Lymington, and Rockford; only the woods are afforested, that in many more the pastures are exempted, as at Wootton, Batramsley, Oxley, Ossumley, Pilley, Boldreford, Vicar’s Hill, Yaldhurst, Boldre, and numerous other places.[22] The manor of Totton, though close to the Forest, was not touched, although all the neighbouring estates were in various degrees afforested, simply because it consisted of only pasture and plough-land, whose value had increased no less than one-fourth. Nothing, therefore, can be more conclusive than that the Conqueror did not mercilessly make a total wilderness of the district, but, not without some consideration, chose and took only those parts which were suitable for the purposes of the chase.

In the woods which were afforested people were allowed to live;[23] though, probably, they voluntarily left them, as labour could not there be so well obtained as in the unafforested parts.[24] In all other respects there seems to have been no disarrangement. Both on the outskirts and in the heart of the Forest, the villains and borderers still worked as before, carrying on their former occupations.[25] The mills at Bashley, and Milford, and Burgate, all in the Forest, went on the same. The fisheries at Holdenhurst and Dibden were undisturbed. The salterns at Eling and Hordle still continued at work, showing that the people still, as before, sowed and reaped their corn, and pastured and killed their cattle.

Again, in other ways, Domesday still more clearly contradicts the Chroniclers, as to the inhabitants being driven out of their homes. Canterton was held by Chenna of Edward, and still in Domesday, in part, remains in his possession. Ulviet, the huntsman, who had rented Ripley manor under Edward, still rents the unafforested portion. His son, Cola, also a huntsman, holds, as his sub-tenant, land at Langley, which he had rented of Edward; whilst his other son, Alwin, holds land at Marchwood, which, also, he had rented. Saulf, a West-Saxon thane, who had held land at Durley of Edward, now holds it at Batramsley, and his wife at Hubborn, which he had also rented of Edward.[26]

Ulgar, a West-Saxon, holds the fourth of a hyde at Milford, just as he had held it of Edward; with this difference, that it was now assessed at three-fourths of a rood, on account of the loss sustained by the woods being taken into the Forest. The sons of Godric Malf, another West-Saxon thane, hold the same lands which their father had held of Edward, at Ashley and Crow, as also the manors of Bisterne and Minstead, these last being rated considerably less than their real values, on account of the afforestations, and what we should now call severance. The West-Saxon Aluric rents property at Oxley, Efford, and Brockenhurst, which his father and uncle rented under Edward, and not only receives lands at Milford in exchange for some taken into the Forest, but actually buys estates at Whitefields from other West-Saxons.[27]

Such facts must be stronger than any mere history compiled by writers who were not only not near the spot, but the majority of whom lived a long time after the events they venture so minutely to describe.

But we have not yet exhausted the valuable evidence of Domesday. The land in the Forest district is rented at much less than in other parts of Hampshire, showing that it was therefore poorer, and not only the land, but the mills. Further—and this is of great importance, as so thoroughly overthrowing the common account—we find in that portion of the survey which comes under the title, “In Novâ Forestâ et circa eam,” only two churches mentioned, one at Milford, and another at Brockenhurst, in the very heart of the Forest. Both stand to this hour, and prove plainly by their Norman work that William allowed them to remain.

Such is the evidence which The Chronicle and the short examination of Domesday yield. The country itself, however, still more plainly proves the bias of the Chroniclers. The slightest acquaintance with geology will show that the Forest was never fertile, as it must have been to have maintained the population which filled so many churches.[28] Nearly the whole of it is covered with sand, or capped with a thick bed of drift, with a surface-soil only a few inches deep, capable of naturally bearing little, except in a few places, besides heath and furze. On a geological map we can pretty accurately trace the limits of the Forest by the formation. Of course, in so large a space, there will be some spots, and some valleys, where the streams have left a richer glebe and a deeper tilth.[29]

But the Chroniclers, by their very exaggeration, have defeated their own purpose. There is in their narration an inconsistency, which, as we dwell upon it, becomes more apparent. We would simply ask, where are the ruins of any of the thirty or fifty churches, and the towns of the people who filled them? Why, too, did not the Chroniclers mention them specifically? Why, further, if William pulled down all the churches, are the only two, at Brockenhurst and Milford, recorded in Domesday,[30] still standing with their contemporary workmanship? Why, too, is Fawley church, with its Norman doorway, and pillars, and arches, formerly, as we know from another portion of Domesday, in the Forest, remaining, if all were destroyed? And why, last of all, if the inhabitants were exterminated, was a church built at Boldre, in the very wildest part of the Forest, immediately after the afforestation, and another at Hordle?[31]