England, Picturesque and Descriptive Part 30

BRIGHTON.

Westward of Beachy Head is the noted watering-place of this southern coast, Brighton, the favorite resort of the Londoners, it being but fifty-one miles south of the metropolis. This was scarcely known as a fashionable resort until about 1780, when George IV., then the Prince of Wales, became its patron. Taken altogether, its large size, fine buildings, excellent situation, and elaborate decorations make Brighton probably the greatest sea-coast watering-place in Europe. It stretches for over three miles along the Channel upon a rather low sh.o.r.e, though in some places the cliffs rise considerably above the beach. Almost the entire sea-front, especially to the eastward, is protected by a strong sea-wall of an average height of sixty feet and twenty-three feet thick at the base. This wall cost $500,000 to build, and it supports a succession of terraces available for promenade and roadway. In front the surf rolls in upon a rather steep pebbly beach, upon which are the bathing-machines and boats. Along the beach, and behind the sea-wall, Brighton has a grand drive, the Marine Parade, sixty feet wide, extending for three miles along the sh.o.r.e and in front of the buildings, with broad promenades on the sea-side ornamented with lawns and gardens, and on the other side a succession of houses of such grand construction as to resemble rows of palaces, built of the cream-colored Portland stone. The houses of the town extend far back on the hillsides and into the valleys, and the permanent population of 130,000 is largely augmented during the height of the season--October, November, and December. Enormous sums have been expended upon the decoration of this great resort, and its Marine Parade, when fashion goes there in the autumn, presents a grand scene. From this parade two great piers extend out into the water, and are used for promenades, being, like the entire city front, brilliantly illuminated at night. The eastern one is the Chain Pier, built in 1823 at a cost of $150,000, and extending eleven hundred and thirty-six feet into the sea. The West Pier, constructed about fifteen years ago, is somewhat broader, and stretches out eleven hundred and fifteen feet. Each of the piers expands into a wide platform at the outer end, that of the West Pier being one hundred and forty feet wide, and here bands play and there are brilliant illuminations. Both piers are of great strength, and only four cents admission is charged to them. Prince George built at Brighton a royal pavilion in imitation of the paG.o.das of the Indies, embosomed in trees and surrounded by gardens.

This was originally the royal residence, but in 1850 the city bought it for $265,000 as a public a.s.sembly-room. The great attraction of Brighton, however, is the aquarium, the largest in the world, opened in 1872. It is constructed in front of the Parade, and, sunken below its level, stretches some fourteen hundred feet along the sh.o.r.e, and is one hundred feet wide, being surmounted by gardens and footwalks. It is set at this low level to facilitate the movement of the sea-water, and its design is to represent the fishes and marine animals as nearly as possible in their native haunts and habits, to do which, and not startle the fish, the visitors go through darkened pa.s.sages, and are thus concealed from them, all the light coming in by refraction through the water. Their actions are thus natural, and they move about with perfect freedom, some of the tanks being of enormous size. Here swim schools of herring, mackerel, and porpoises as they do out at sea, the octopus gyrates his arms, and almost every fish that is known to the waters of that temperature is exhibited in thoroughly natural action. The tanks have been prepared most elaborately. The porpoises and larger fish have a range of at least one hundred feet, and rocks, savannahs, and everything else they are accustomed to are reproduced. The visitors walk through vaulted pa.s.sages artistically decorated, and there is music to gladden the ear. This aquarium also shows the processes of fish-hatching, and has greatly increased the world's stock of knowledge as to fish-habits. The tanks hold five hundred thousand gallons of fresh and salt water.

Back of Brighton are the famous South Downs, the chalk-hills of Suss.e.x, which stretch over fifty miles parallel to the coast, and have a breadth of four or five miles, while they rise to an average height of five hundred feet, their highest point being Ditchling Beacon, north of Brighton, rising eight hundred and fifty-eight feet. They disclose picturesque scenery, and the railways from London wind through their valleys and dart into the tunnels under their hills, whose tops disclose the gyrating sails of an army of windmills, while over their slopes roam the flocks of well-tended sheep that ultimately become the the much-prized South Down mutton. The chalk-cliffs bordering the Downs slope to the sea, and in front are numerous little towns, for the whole coast is dotted with watering-places. A few miles east of Brighton is the port of New Haven on a much-travelled route across the Channel to Dieppe.

WISTON PARK.

To the westward of Brighton and in the South Downs is the antique village of Steyning, near which is Rev. John Goring's home at Wiston Manor, an Elizabethan mansion of much historical interest and commanding views of extreme beauty. This is one of the most attractive places in the South Downs, a grand park with n.o.ble trees, herds of deer wandering over the gra.s.s, and the great ring of trees on top of Chanctonbury Hill, planted in 1760. Charles Goring, the father of the present owner, planted these trees in his early life, and sixty-eight years afterwards, in 1828, he then being eighty-five years old, addressed these lines to the hill:

"How oft around thy Ring, sweet Hill, a boy I used to play, And form my plans to plant thy top on some auspicious day!

How oft among thy broken turf with what delight I trod!

With what delight I placed those twigs beneath thy maiden sod!

And then an almost hopeless wish would creep within my breast: 'Oh, could I live to see thy top in all its beauty dressed!'

That time's arrived; I've had my wish, and lived to eighty-five; I'll thank my G.o.d, who gave such grace, as long as e'er I live; Still when the morning sun in spring, whilst I enjoy my sight, Shall gild thy new clothed Beech and sides, I'll view thee with delight."

The house originally belonged to Earl G.o.dwine, and has had a strange history. One of its lords was starved to death at Windsor by King John; Llewellyn murdered another at a banquet; a third fell from his horse and was killed. Later, it belonged to the Shirleys, one of whom married a Persian princess; it has been held by the Gorings for a long period.

This interesting old mansion has a venerable church adjoining it, surmounted by an ivy-clad tower. Chanctonbury Hill rises eight hundred and fourteen feet, and its ring of trees, which can be seen for many miles, is planted on a circular mound surrounded by a trench, an ancient fortification. From it there is a grand view over Surrey and Suss.e.x and to the sea beyond--a view stretching from Windsor Castle to Portsmouth, a panorama of rural beauty that cannot be excelled.

ARUNDEL CASTLE.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ARUNDEL CASTLE.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: RUINS OF COWDRAY.]

The little river Arun flows from the South Downs into the sea, and standing upon its banks is Arundel Castle, which gives the t.i.tle of earl to the unfortunate infant son and heir of the Duke of Norfolk, whose blindness shows that even the greatest wealth and highest rank do not command all things in this world. A village of two steep streets mounts up the hill from the river-bank to the castle, which has unusual interest from its striking position and the long line of its n.o.ble owners--the Fitzalans and Howards. The extensive ramparts surround a ponderous keep and there are fine views in all directions. This is a favorite home of the Duke of Norfolk, and is surrounded by an extensive park. The tombs of his ancestors are in the old parish church of St.

Nicholas, built in the fourteenth century, alongside which the duke has recently constructed a magnificent Roman Catholic church in Decorated Gothic at a cost of $500,000. The architect of this church was Mr.

Hansom, who invented for the benefit of London the Hansom cab. Westward of Arundel is Chichester, distinguished for its cathedral and cross, the ancient Regnum of the Romans. The cathedral, recently restored, is peculiar from having five aisles with a long and narrow choir. Here is buried Richard Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel in the fourteenth century. This cathedral has a consistory court over the southern porch, reached by a spiral staircase, from which a sliding door opens into the Lollards'

Dungeon. It has a detached campanile or bell-tower rising on the north-western side, the only example in England of such an attachment to a cathedral. The Chichester market-cross, standing at the intersection of four streets in the centre of the town, is four hundred years old. In front of Chichester, but nine miles away, the low peninsula of Selsey Bill projects into the sea and is the resort of innumerable wild-fowl.

Three miles out of town is Goodwood, where the races are held. Goodwood is the seat of the Duke of Richmond and Gordon, who has a fine park, and a valuable picture-gallery particularly rich in historical portraits. At Bigner, twelve miles from Chichester over the chalk-downs, are the remains of an extensive Roman villa, the buildings and pavements having been exhumed for a s.p.a.ce of six hundred by three hundred and fifty feet.

The Rother, a tributary of the Arun, flows down from Midhurst, where are the ruins of Cowdray, an ancient Tudor stronghold that was burned in 1793, its walls being now finely overgrown with ivy. Dunford House, near Midhurst, was the estate presented to Richard Cobden by the "Anti-Corn Law League."

SELBORNE.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GILBERT WHITE'S HOUSE.]

Crossing from Midhurst over the border into Hampshire, the village of Selborne is reached, one of the smallest but best known places in England from the care and minuteness with which Rev. Gilbert White has described it in his _Natural History of Selborne_. It is a short distance south-east of Alton and about fifty miles south-west of London, while beyond the village the chalk-hills rise to a height of three hundred feet, having a long hanging wood on the brow, known as the Hanger, made up mainly of beech trees. The village is a single straggling street three-quarters of a mile in length, in a sheltered valley and running parallel with the Hanger. At each end of Selborne there rises a small rivulet, the one to the south becoming a branch of the Arun and flowing into the Channel, while the other is a branch of the Wey, which falls into the Thames. This is the pleasant little place, located in a broad parish, that Gilbert White has made famous, writing of everything concerning it, but more especially of its natural history and peculiarities of soil, its trees, fruits, and animal life. He was born at Selborne in 1720, and died there in 1793, in his seventy-third year. He was the father of English natural history, for much of what he wrote was equally applicable to other parts of the kingdom. His modest house, now overgrown with ivy, is one of the most interesting buildings in the village, and in it they still keep his study about as he left it, with the close-fronted bookcase protected by bra.s.s wire-netting, to which hangs his thermometer just where he originally placed it. The house has been little if any altered since he was carried to his last resting-place. He is described by those who knew him as "a little thin, prim, upright man," a quiet, una.s.suming, but very observing country parson, who occupied his time in watching and recording the habits of his parishioners, quadruped as well as feathered. At the end of the garden is still kept his sun-dial, the lawn around which is one of the softest and most perfect gra.s.s carpets in England.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SUN-DIAL IN GILBERT WHITE'S GARDEN.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: SELBORNE CHURCH, FROM THE ALTON ROAD.]

The pleasant little church over which White presided is as modest and almost as attractive as his house. It was dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and measures fifty-four by forty-seven feet, being almost as broad as it is long, consisting of three aisles, and making no pretensions, he says, to antiquity. It was built in Henry VII.'s reign, is perfectly plain and unadorned, and without painted gla.s.s, carved work, sculpture, or tracery. Within it, however, are low, squat, thick pillars supporting the roof, which he thinks are Saxon and upheld the roof of a former church, which, falling into decay, was rebuilt on these ma.s.sive props because their strength had preserved them from the injuries of time.

They support blunt Gothic arches. He writes that he remembers when the beams of the middle aisle were hung with garlands in honor of young women of the parish who died virgins. Within the chancel is his memorial on the wall, and he rests in an una.s.suming grave in the churchyard. The belfry is a square embattled tower forty-five feet high, built at the western end, and he tells pleasantly how the three old bells were cast into four in 1735, and a parishioner added a fifth one at his own expense, marking its arrival by a high festival in the village, "rendered more joyous by an order from the donor that the treble bell should be fixed bottom upward in the ground and filled with punch, of which all present were permitted to partake." The porch of the church to the southward is modern and shelters a fine Gothic doorway, whose folding doors are evidently of ancient construction. The vicarage stands alongside to the westward, an old Elizabethan house.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROCKY LANE LEADING TO ALTON.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WISHING STONE.]

Among the singular things in Selborne to which White calls attention are two rocky hollow lanes, one of which leads to Alton. These roads have, by the traffic of ages and the running of water, been worn down through the first stratum of freestone and partly through the second, so that they look more like water-courses than roads. In many places they have thus been sunken as much as eighteen feet beneath the level of the fields alongside, so that torrents rush along them in rainy weather, with miniature cascades on either hand that are frozen into icicles in winter. These lanes, thus rugged and gloomy, affright the timid, but, gladly writes our author, they "delight the naturalist with their various botany." The old mill at Selborne, with its dilapidated windsails, presents a picturesque appearance, and up on the chalk-hills, where there is a far-away view over the pleasant vale beyond, is the Wishing Stone, erected on a little mound among the trees.

All these things attracted our author's close attention, and as his parish was over thirty miles in circ.u.mference, as may be supposed his investigations covered a good deal of ground. His work is chiefly written in the form of a series of letters to friends, and he occasionally digresses over the border into the neighboring parishes to speak of their peculiarities or attractions. They all had in his day little churches, and the parish church of Greatham, not far from Selborne, is a specimen of the antique construction of the diminutive chapels that his ancestors handed down to their children for places of worship, each surrounded by its setting of ancient gravestones. The _History of Selborne_ shows how the country parson in the olden time, whose flock was small, parish isolated, and visitors few, amused himself; but he has left an enduring monument that grows the more valuable as the years advance. In fact, it is a text-book of natural history; and so complete have been his observations that he not only describes all the plants and animals, birds, rocks, soils, and buildings, but he also has s.p.a.ce to devote to the cats of Selborne, and to tell how they prowl in the roadway and mount the tiled roofs to capture the chimney swallows. How he loved his home is shown in the poem with which his work begins. We quote the opening stanza, and also some other characteristic portions of this ode, which describes the attractions of Selborne in the last century:

"See Selborne spreads her boldest beauties round, The varied valley, and the mountain ground Wildly majestic: what is all the pride Of flats with loads of ornament supplied?

Unpleasing, tasteless, impotent expense, Compared with Nature's rude magnificence.

Oft on some evening, sunny, soft, and still, The Muse shall hand thee to the beech-grown hill, To spend in tea the cool, refreshful hour, Where nods in air the pensile, nest-like bower; Or where the Hermit hangs his straw-clad cell, Emerging gently from the leafy dell: Romantic spot! from whence in prospect lies Whate'er of landscape charms our feasting eyes; The pointed spire, the hall, the pasture-plain, The russet fallow, and the golden grain; The breezy lake that sheds a gleaming light, Till all the fading picture fails the sight....

Now climb the steep, drop now your eye below, Where round the verdurous village orchards blow; There, like a picture, lies my lowly seat, A rural, sheltered, un.o.bserved retreat.

Me far above the rest, Selbornian scenes.

The pendant forest and the mountain-greens, Strike with delight: ... There spreads the distant view That gradual fades, till sunk in misty blue."

[Ill.u.s.tration: GREATHAM CHURCH.]

WINCHESTER.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CARDINAL BEAUFORT'S GATE AND ANCIENT BREWERY.]

About sixteen miles south-west of Selborne is the chief city of Hampshire and one of the great historical cities of the realm--Winchester--built on the side of a chalk-hill rising from the valley of the Itchen, a stream that was Izaak Walton's favorite fishing-ground. This was the Roman Venta Belgarum, and was made an episcopal see in the seventh century. Nothing remains of the earlier cathedral, which was replaced by the present structure, begun in the eleventh century, but not finished until the fifteenth. Winchester Cathedral is five hundred and sixty feet long, and its nave is in the highest degree impressive, being the longest in England, extending two hundred and sixty-five feet. The western front has recently been restored. Within the cathedral are many noted tombs, including that of William Rufus, and above the altar is West's painting of the "Raising of Lazarus." In the presbytery are six mortuary chests containing the remains of kings and bishops of the ancient Saxon kingdom of Wess.e.x. St.

Swithin's shrine was the treasure of Winchester: he was bishop in the ninth century and the especial patron of the city and cathedral.

Originally interred in the churchyard, his remains were removed to the golden shrine given by King Edgar, though tradition says this was delayed by forty days of rain, which is the foundation of the popular belief in the continuance of wet weather after St. Swithin's Day, July 15. In the Lady Chapel, Queen Mary was married to Philip of Spain in 1554, and the chair on which she sat is still preserved there. The cathedral close is extremely picturesque, surrounded by houses of considerable antiquity. Among the prelates of Winchester were William of Wykeham and Cardinal Beaufort: the former founded St. Mary's College there in the fourteenth century--a fine structure, with the picturesque ruins of the old palace of the bishops, Wolvesey Castle, near by; the latter, in the fifteenth century, built Cardinal Beaufort's Tower and Gateway in the southern suburbs, on the Southampton road, when he revived the foundation of St. Cross. This n.o.ble gateway, when approached from the city, is seen through the foliage, with a background of quaint high chimneys, church, and green leaves. The river Itchen flows alongside the road, half hidden among the trees. The St. Cross Hospital, with the thirteen brethren still living there in their black gowns and silver crosses, gives a vivid picture of ancient England. Adjoining the gateway on the left hand is the brewery, formerly known as the "Hundred Men's Hall," because a hundred of the poorest men in Winchester were daily entertained there at dinner, and, as the repast was provided on a bountiful scale, the guests always had ample provisions to carry home to their families. The tower and surrounding buildings are excellent examples of the domestic architecture of the fifteenth century. In this hospital the custom still prevails of giving the wayfarer a horn of ale and dole of bread, the ale being brewed on the premises and of the same kind made there centuries ago. The old West Gate of Winchester, the only survivor of the city's four gates, is a well-preserved specimen of the military architecture of the time of Henry III. Winchester Castle was originally built by William the Norman, and continued a residence of the kings until Henry III., but of it little remains beyond the hall and some subterranean fragments. Here hangs on the wall what is said to be the top of King Arthur's round table. There is a beautiful cross in Winchester, recently restored, and originally erected on the High Street by Cardinal Beaufort, who seems to have spent much of his vast and ill-gotten wealth in splendid architectural works. Shakespeare introduces him in _Henry VI._, and in the scene that closes his career truthfully depicts him:

"If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island.

So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain."

THE NEW FOREST.

The Itchen flows into the estuary of Southampton Water, and from its western sh.o.r.es spreads far away the domain of the New Forest, stretching down into the south-western part of Hampshire. This is a remnant of the forests that once covered the greater part of the island, and is the most extensive left in the English lowlands. It was made a royal forest by William the Norman, and thus continues to the present time, the largest tract of uncultivated land and one of the finest examples of woodland scenery in the kingdom. It covers almost the whole surface between Southampton Water and the Avon, which is the western border of Hampshire, but in recent years its area has been gradually curtailed, though its extent has never been accurately measured. Stretching about fifteen miles from east to west and twenty miles from north-west to south-east, it includes about ninety-one thousand acres, of which twenty-six thousand belong to private landowners, two thousand are the absolute property of the Crown, and the remaining sixty-three thousand acres have common and other rights due to a large number of tenants, though the t.i.tle is in the Crown. About twenty-five thousand acres are covered with timber, but only five thousand acres of this is old timber, the remainder having been planted with trees within the last two hundred years. The surface is gently undulating, becoming hilly in the northern parts; the soil is usually arid, and the scenery discloses wide expanses of heathery moor, often marshy in the lower grounds, with here and there copses that gradually thicken into woodland as the true forest district is approached. The chief trees are oak and beech, which attain to n.o.ble proportions, while there are occasional tufts of holly and undergrowth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEW FOREST, FROM BRAMBLE HILL.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: RUFUS'S STONE.]

Almost in the centre of the forest is the village of Lyndhurst, regarded as the best point of departure for its survey--a hamlet with one long street and houses dotted about on the flanks of a hill, the summit of which is adorned by a newly-built church of red brick with bath-stone dressings. Within this church is Sir Frederick Leighton's fresco of the "Wise and Foolish Virgins." In the ponderous "Queen's House," near the church, lives the chief official of the forest, and here are held the courts. Formerly, this official was always a prince royal and known as the lord warden, but now his powers are vested in the "First Commissioner of Woods and Forests:" here the poacher was in former days severely punished. The New Forest was originally not only a place for the king's pleasure in the chase, but it also furnished timber for the royal navy, though this fell into disuse in the Civil War. Subsequently parts were replanted, and William III. planted by degrees six thousand acres with trees. The great storm of 1703 uprooted four thousand fine trees, and then again there was partial neglect, and it was not until within a half century that a serious effort was made to fully restore the timber. There have now been ten thousand acres planted: a nursery for young trees has been established, and about seven hundred acres are annually planted, the young oaks being set out between Scotch firs, whose more rapid growth protects the saplings from the gales, and when they are able to stand alone the firs are thinned out. About four miles north of Lyndhurst and beyond Minstead is Rufus's Stone. Around Minstead Manor the land has long been enclosed and cultivated, and looks as little like a wild forest as can be imagined, while northward the ground rises to the top of Stony Cross Hill, disclosing one of the finest views in this region, looking down over a wide valley, with cultivated fields on its opposite sides and woodland beyond, gently shelving to Southampton Water, of which occasional glimpses may be had. There is an abundance of woodland everywhere, checquered by green lawns. At our back is the enclosed park, within which some intrenchments mark the site of Castle Malwood, where tradition says that William Rufus pa.s.sed the night previous to his death. The king just before dawn aroused his attendants by a sudden outcry, and rushing into the chamber they found him in such agitation that they remained there until morning. He had dreamed he was being bled, and that the stream from his veins was so copious that it rose to the sky, obscuring the sun. The daylight also brought other omens: a foreign monk at the court had been dreaming, and saw the king enter a church, seize the rood, and rend it with his teeth; the holy image at first submitted to the insult, then struck down the king, who, while prostrate, vomited fire and smoke which masked the stars. The king, whose courage had returned with daylight, made light of the monk's tale, though he did not go to hunt as usual that morning, but after dinner, having taken liberal drafts of wine, rode out with a small party, including Walter Tyril, lord of Pontoise, lately arrived from Normandy. They hunted throughout the afternoon, and near sunset the king and Tyril found themselves alone in a glade below the castle. A stag bounded by, and the king unsuccessfully shot at him; then another ran past, when Tyril shot his arrow, bidden, as tradition says, by the king "in the devil's name." The arrow struck William Rufus full in the chest, and he dropped lifeless. Tyril, putting spurs to his horse, galloped westward to a ford across the Avon into Dorsetshire. Soon after a charcoal-burner named Purkis, whose descendants still live in the New Forest, came past, found the king's body, and, placing it on his cart, bore it, still bleeding, to Winchester. Tyril's arrow had glanced from a tree, which long existed, but, decaying centuries afterward, Rufus's Stone was set up to mark the spot. This became mutilated, and has been enclosed in an iron casing, with copies of the original inscriptions on the outside. It is now a cast-iron pillar about five feet high, with a grating at the top, through which may be seen the stone within. It stands on a gentle slope, not quite at the bottom of the valley, with pretty scenery around. Tyril got his horse shod at the Avon ford, for which offence the blacksmith afterwards paid an annual fine to the Crown. He was not very hotly pursued, however, and made his escape into Normandy, where he st.u.r.dily denied that the arrow was shot by him at all, laying the blame to a conspiracy of the king's enemies, of whom he had many.

Southward from Lyndhurst the road goes over undulating ground and through magnificent oaks and beeches to Brockenhurst, past a heronry at Vinney Ridge. This section contains some of the finest trees in the forest, with plenty of dense holly and an occasional yew. The ground discloses the bracken fern, and gray lichen clings thickly to the trunks and branches of the trees. The woodland views along this road are splendid, and only need the wild animals of a former era to bring back the forest-life of mediaeval times. Off to the eastward, standing on the little river Exe, are the foliage-clad ruins of Beaulieu Abbey, founded by King John, and now held by the Duke of Buccleuch, who has a mansion near by. Here was buried John's mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and here came the widow of Warwick the King-maker, after the battle of Barnet, for sanctuary. Perkin Warbeck when defeated also took refuge at Beaulieu, where he surrendered on promise of mercy. The abbey is a wreck now, for after its dissolution we are told that its stones "went to build Henry VIII.'s martello tower at Hurst, and its lead to repair Calshot" on Southampton Water, while the gate-house serves as the entrance to the modern ducal mansion, and the refectory is the parish church. Here are the tombs of Mary Dore and Mary Do. The former was a noted witch, "who could transform herself into a hare or cat, and afflict or cure all the cattle in the neighborhood." The latter is credited with more celestial attributes in the obituary that survives her than were allotted her unfortunate companion; and the acrostic inscription on her tomb is often quoted:

"Merciless fate (to our greate griefe and woe) A prey hath here made of our deere Moll Do, Rapte up in duste and hid in earthe and claye, Yet live her soule and virtues now and aye; Death is a debt all owe which must be paide Oh that she knew, and of it was not afraide!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: BROCKENHURST CHURCH, WITH THE FAMOUS YEW AND OAK.]

To the westward of Beaulieu is Brockenhurst, a pretty forest village, along whose main street we are told the deer formerly galloped on a winter's night, to the great excitement of all the dogs therein. The forest almost blends with the village-green, and on a low artificial mound stands its church, with traces of almost every style of architecture since the Conquest, and guarded by a famous yew and oak. At Boldre, near Brockenhurst, lived Rev. W. Gilpin, the vicar of the parish, the author of several works on sylvan scenery, and reputed to be the original of the noted _Dr. Syntax_, who made such a humorous "Tour in Search of the Picturesque." He now lies at rest under a maple alongside his church, in which Southey was married. Ringwood is the chief town of the western forest-border upon the level plain that forms the Avon Valley where Tyril escaped across the ford. It is not a very interesting place. A little way up the river, near Horton, "King Monmouth" was captured after Sedgemoor, and from Ringwood he wrote the abject letters begging his life from King James, who turned a deaf ear to all entreaty. Alice Lisle, who was judicially murdered by Judge Jeffreys for sheltering two refugees from that battle, also lived at Moyle Court, near Ringwood. The chief inn is the "White Hart," named in memory of Henry VII.'s hunt in the New Forest, where the game, a white hart, showed fine running throughout the day, and ultimately stood at bay in a meadow near the village, when, at the intercession of the ladies, the hounds were called off, the hart secured, given a gold collar, and taken to Windsor. The inn where the king partook of refreshments that day had its sign changed to the White Hart. It was at Bisterne, below Ringwood, that Madonie of Berkeley Castle slew the dragon, for which feat King Edward IV. knighted him--a tale that the incredulous will find confirmed by the deed still preserved in Berkeley Castle which records the event, confers the knighthood, and gives him permission to wear the dragon as his badge.

CHRISTCHURCH.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE PRIORY, FROM THE QUAY, AND PLACE MILLS, CHRISTCHURCH.]