The New Forest: Its History and Its Scenery

by John R. Wise

The kingly title formerly held by the Stanleys is now in the possession of the Lees. They all still, to a certain extent, keep up their old dignity, and must by no means be confounded with the strolling outcasts and itinerant beggars who also dwell in the Forest. Their marriages, too, are still observed with strictness, and any man or woman who marries out of the caste, as recently in the case of one of the Lees, who wedded a blacksmith, is instantly disowned. The proverb, too, of honour among thieves is also still kept, and formal meetings are every now and then convened to expel any member who is guilty of cheating his kinsman.

Since the deer have been destroyed in the Forest, life is not to them what it was. They are now content to live upon a stray fowl, or hedgehog, or squirrel, baked whole in a coat of clay, and to gain a livelihood by weaving the heather into mats, and brooms, and beehives.

They are, however, mere wanderers, and have nothing to do with the soil. It is with the West-Saxon that we are most concerned. And in the New Forest he will be found just such another man as his forefather in the days of William the Red, putting the same faith in visions and omens which made the King exclaim, on the morning of his death, upon the news of the monk of Gloucester’s dream, “Do you take me for an Englishman?” believing firmly in groaning ash-trees, and oaks which bud on Christmas-eve, and witches who can turn themselves into hares, and that the marl which he digs is still red with the blood of his ancient foes the Danes.[199]

Here, as we have seen in Hampshire, at Calshot, on the borders of the Forest, Cerdic landed. Here he defeated the Britons, and established the kingdom of the West-Saxons. Here the West-Saxon Alfred rallied his countrymen and crowned defeat with victory. Here, too, stood the capital of Wessex, Winchester, in whose cathedral lie the old West-Saxon kings. Here, then, if anywhere, we should expect to find West-Saxon characteristics and a West-Saxon population.

As is well known, after the battle of Hastings, the West-Saxons, with one or two exceptions, succumbed willingly enough to the Conqueror, who lived amongst them; whilst the Northmen across the Humber bid him defiance. Every one must to this day notice the extreme deference, almost amounting to a painful obsequiousness, of the lower classes in the southern, compared with their independent manner in the northern, parts of England. We find, too, mingled, however, with characteristics from other sources, the West-Saxon element not only in the appearance of the long-limbed Forest peasantry, with their narrow head and shoulders, and loose, shambling gait, but also in their slowness of perception. They betray, too, to this hour that worst Teutonic trait of fatalism, observable in all their epitaphs, and in their daily expression, “It was not to be,” applied to anything which does not take place. Notwithstanding, too, their apparent servility, an amount of cunningness and craft peeps out, which in a different age compelled the Conqueror to make special laws against assassination.[200]

Much must be set against these drawbacks. Enslaved to an extent which no modern historian has dared to reveal, and can only be fully conceived by the dreadful story of The Chronicle,—treated as beasts rather than even slaves,—the West-Saxons showed, under the Normans, a spirit of obedience and an adaptability to changed circumstances which are above praise. Let us give the West-Saxon labourer credit for it both then and to this day, that though the most ill-paid and ill-fed in England, he bears his heavy yoke of poverty without a murmur.

Turning to another side of his character, we find him loving the same old sports as in the days of Alfred. He still follows the hounds on foot, and when there were deer in the Forest, naturally killed them. Wrestling and cudgel-playing have been continued till the last few years close to the northern boundaries of the Forest. The old Hock-tide games were till a late period kept up in the northern parts, and “Hock-tide money” was not so very long ago paid as an acknowledgment for certain Forest privileges. Heartiness and roughness still go hand in hand with him as with his forefathers. But a heaviness of intellect is always visible, and, as with all his race, a sadness oppresses his mirth. His dress to this day, too, bespeaks his nationality. He still wears what is locally called the “smicket,” and sometimes the “surplice,” the Old-English smoc, named also the tunece. It is still, too, as formerly, tied round the waist with a leathern band. His legs are still cased, as we see the Old-English in their drawings, with gaiters, known as “vamplets,” or “strogs,” equivalent to the “cockers” of the Midland Counties, which do not reach quite so high as the former, and “mokins,” which are merely made of coarse sacking.

And now let us see how far he has made his presence felt on the district and in the language. But we must beware of overstraining our theory. No portion of our history is, in its details, so difficult as the English Conquest. None, to any statement which may be made, requires so many qualifications. The first faint flow of the Teutonic immigration was felt long prior to Cæsar’s invasion—centuries before the main wave burst over the country. We must, too, carefully bear in mind that in Wessex, more than in any other part, the conquerors and conquered were blended together.[201] They mixed, however, everywhere far more than is commonly allowed. Our language bears testimony to the general fact. The many Keltic household words in daily use are the best evidence.

Here in the New Forest I may mention that the form “plock” is used instead of the common block (bloc), and that we have, as, perhaps, throughout the West of England, “hob,” in the sense of potato-hob—a place where potatoes are covered over, instead of “hog” (hwg), noticed by Mr. Davies in his list of Keltic words in Lancashire. Further, we find the terms “more” (maur), for a root, “mulloch,” for dirt, and “bower-stone,” for a boundary-stone.[202] Here, too, as in other places, the Britons have left the traces of their rule on the broader natural features of the country—on the rivers, as the Exe (y [g] wysg, the current), and Avon (Afon, the river), and Avon Water, near Setthorns, and Boldre (y Byldwr, the full stream), and Stour ([G]wys-dwr, the deep water), and in the district itself, in the now almost forgotten name of Ytene. We find their influence, too, perhaps, in such local names of villages and fields as Penerley, Denny, Fritham, Cocketts, Cammel Green, and Flasket’s Lane. As might be expected, the traces of the Danes are very much less; and I hardly like even to venture on the conjecture that the various “Nashes” along the coast are corruptions of næs. Here, in the Forest, we have no Danish “thorpes” or “bys.” There are no Carlbys, as in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, but plenty of Old-English Charltons, and Charlmoors, and Charlmeads. No Norse “forces” run here, as in the north of England, but only “rides.” No “denes” open out to the sea, as in Durham, but only “chines” and “bunnies.” No Jutish “ings” are dwelt in, as in Kent, but only “tons” and “leys.” Here, in fact, the people of Cerdic have identified themselves with the land, and have left their impress, now unchanged for more than thirteen centuries, on all the towns, and hamlets, and homesteads.

Thus we find on the eastern side of the Forest, formerly in it, Eling, the Mark of the Ealingas, Totton, the Mark of the Totingas; on the south, Lymington and Pennington, the Marks of the Limingas and Penningas; and on the west, Fordingbridge, the Mark of the Fordingas, and Ellingham, that is, Adeling’s Hamlet, Adelingeham, in Domesday, where some of the neighbouring woods are to this hour called Adlem’s Plantations.