The New Forest: its history and its scenery/Chapter 14

by John Richard de Capel Wise

 

CHAPTER XIV.

THE OLD SOUTH-WESTERN SEA-COAST—SOMERFORD, CHEWTON GLEN, MILFORD, HURST CASTLE, LYMINGTON.

Little has been seen of the sea, except from Calshot Castle to Leap. Though, too, the sea-coast here, as there, is no longer in the Forest, yet if we miss this walk we shall lose some of the most beautiful scenery in the district.

As we leave Christchurch by the Lymington Road, Mudeford lies on the right, and Burton, with its Staple Cross, on the left. Few things are more touching than these old grey relics of the past, standing solitary in our cross-roads, the dial united with the Cross, to show both how short was man's life, and where lay his only salvation. But we now profane them, and turn them, as here, into direction posts, or break them up, as at Burgate, to mend the road.

Both villages will some day be more sought after than at present, for at Burton lived Southey, with his friend Charles Lloyd, and sang the praises of the valley in better verse than usual. At Mudeford, Stewart Rose, the author of The Red King, built Gundimore, where, in 1807, Scott stayed, writing Marmion, and riding over the Forest exploring the barrows. In the same village Coleridge lodged during the winter of 1816.^[1]

A little way along the main road lies Somerford, once one of the Granges of Christchurch Priory. Its barns and stables are partly built from the prior's lodgings, whose site may here and there be faintly traced; and the chapel, which in Grose's time was still standing, with the initials of the last prior, John Draper, cut on the window labels.^[2]

The best plan, however, is not to go along the road, but the shore as far as Chewton Glen, and there climb up the cliff. The sands are white and hard, strewed with fragments of iron-stone, and large septaria, from which cement is made, and for which, farther on, a fleet of sloops are dredging a little way from the shore. In the far distance gleam the white and black and orange-coloured bands of sand and clay scoring the Barton cliffs.^[3]

The glen, or "bunny," as it is locally called, runs right down into the sea; the high tide rushing up it, and driving back its Forest stream. Down to the very edge it is fringed with low oak copses, covered in the spring, as far as high-tide mark,

with blue bells, and strewed with yellow tufts of primroses. In the summer, too, the ground is as deep a green with ferns as the oak leaves above; whilst the stream flows between banks bordered with blue skullcap and purple helleborine.^[4]

Then, as you climb up to the down, on the opposite side, stretches a view, hard to be matched in England either for extent or beauty. On one side rolls the English Channel, indenting the shore with its deep bay as far as the land-locked harbour of Christchurch, shut in by Hengistbury Head and the white Swanage rocks; and, on the other, it sweeps away by the long beach of Hurst and its round gray castle. Opposite, glitter the coloured sands and chalk cliffs of Alum Bay, and the white Needle Rocks running wedge-shaped into the sea. Farther eastward, rise the treeless downs, and the breach opens across the Island to Freshwater Gate, and the two batteries, built into the cliff, one by one appear: the long scene ended at last by the houses of Yarmouth—the Solent still winding onward, like some great river.

An uninterrupted path runs, for some three or four miles, along the top of the cliff—the scene constantly changing in its beauty. Below hangs a broken under-cliff, shelving down to the sea, strewed here and there with blocks of gravel, the grass and furze growing on them just as they fell. On the shore stretch long reaches of yellow sand, separated by narrow strips of pebbles, and patches of dark green Barton clay, embossed with shells, and studded with sharks' teeth.

Passing the Coastguard Station and the Gangway, we reach Becton Bunny—very different to Chewton, but equally lovely, with its bare wide gorge, and its beds of furze and heath fringing the edge of the cliff.^[5] Very beautiful, too, are the summer sunsets seen from this point—the sun sinking far down the channel, lighting up the coloured sands of Alum Bay purple and gold, tinting the white chalk cliffs with rose and vermilion, the crimson of the sky floating on the waves as they break along the shore.

Still following the path along the top of the cliff, we pass the grave-yard, where stood the old cruciform church of Hordle—once in the middle of the village, but now only a hundred yards from the sea. Nothing of it remains except some blocks of Grey Wethers, used for its foundation, and too large to be removed. Very interesting are these stones, brought up from the shore, where, now and then, one or two may be seen at low tide, tumbled from the drift above—the same stones as those at Stonehenge, left on the top of the chalk. Gone, too, are its mill and its six salterns, mentioned in Domesday, and the village itself removed inland. The sailors, however, dredging for cement-stone or for fish, sometimes draw up great logs of wood, locally known as "mootes," which may perhaps tell of the salterns, or the time when the Forest stretched to the sea. The salterns of the Normans and the Old-English have suffered very different fates. In Normandy the sea no longer reaches to their sites,^[6] whilst here it has long since rolled over them.

Beyond this again is Mineway, reminding us, by its name, of the time when the iron-stone was collected on the shore and taken to the Sowley furnaces to be smelted.^[7] Farther on, down in the valley made by the stream, which turns the village mill, mentioned in Domesday, lies Milford. The church spire rises up prettily amongst its trees, and the church itself is a good example of our village churches, built in three or four different styles. The tower is Early-English, surmounted by a string-course of Norman heads. In the north side stands a curious inserted doorway, with trefoil heading, whilst two Norman arches remain in the nave joined by Early-English, springing from black Purbeck marble shafts.

To the south stretches the long Hurst beach, formed, in much the same way as the more famous Chesil Bank, of the rolled pebbles brought up from the Barton Cliffs by the strong tides aided with the westerly gales, making a breakwater to the whole of the Solent. Now and then close to it appear the floating islands, known as the Shingles, sometimes rising for only a few hours above the sea, and at others remaining long enough to become green with bladderwort and samphire.

Across to the Isle of Wight, at the narrowest point, it is only a mile; and so fast does the Solent tide,^[8] when once the ebb is felt, pour itself along the narrow gorge, that it fills up Christchurch Bay, higher than at the flood, thus making, in fact, a double high-water. At the extreme end stands Hurst Castle, built by Henry VIII., from the ruins of Beaulieu Abbey. Whatever opinion we may have of Henry's private character, there can be but one as to his foresight and energy in defending the country. Much for this may be forgiven. Hall wrote in no exaggerated strain when he said:—"The King's highness never ceases to study and take pains both for the advancement of the commonwealth of this his realm of England, and for the defence of the same. . . . . Wherefore, his Majesty in his own personne took very laborious and painful journeys towards the sea-coasts. Also, he sent dyvers of his nobles and counsellors to view and search all the portes and dangers in the coastes, . . . . and in all soche doubtful places his Highness caused dyvers and many bulwarks and fortifications to be made."^[9] And of them, Hurst Castle, like Calshot, which we have seen, was one, and still stands, additionally fortified by guns, and guarded by the far better defences of lighthouses, and beacons, and telegraph stations.^[10]

Here it was, on the 1st December, 1642, Charles I. was brought, after holding his mock court at Newport, by Colonel Cobbit, who had seized him in the name of the army. Here, too, he still showed all the foolish childishness which Laud had taught him, putting faith in the omen of his candle burning brightly or dimly,^[11] which detracts so much from any interest we might otherwise feel for him in his days of care and sorrow. A closet is shown where he is said to have been confined, and where his Golden Rules are said to have hung; but from Herbert's memoirs, evidently neither the room where he lived or slept.^[12] Herbert's account of Hurst is so graphic that I give it nearly in full:—"The wind and tide favouring, the King and his attendants crossed the narrow sea in three hours,^[13] and landed at Hurst Castle, or Block House rather, erected by order of King Henry VIII., upon a spot of earth a good way into the sea, and joined to the firm land by a narrow neck of sand, which is covered over with small loose stones and pebbles; and upon both sides the sea beats, so as at spring tides and stormy weather the land passage is formidable and hazardous. The castle has very thick stone walls, and the platforms are regular, and both have several culverines and sakers mounted. . . . The captain of this wretched place was not unsuitable; for, at the King's going ashore, he stood ready to receive him with small observance. His look was stern. His hair and large beard were black and bushy. He held a partizan in his hand; and, Switz-like, had a great basket-hilt sword on his side. Hardly could one see a man of more grim aspect, and no less robust and rude was his behaviour."^[14] The account is very life-like, though some allowance must be made for Herbert's prejudices against this gaunt Puritan captain, who, we learn, by-and-by became more civil. Colonel Cobbit, in whose charge the King was, seems to have treated him with uniform respect and kindness. Charles stayed here six-and-twenty days, walking along the beach, watching the ships passing up and down the Solent, and receiving the cavaliers of Hampshire, who came for the last time to pay their respects. Then, at last, he was suddenly taken away to show at Whitehall a better courage and wisdom in death than in life.

About three miles from Milford, on the mouth of the Boldre Water, lies the port of Lymington, the Mark of the Limingas, as the neighbouring hamlet of Pennington is that of the Penningas.^[15] Its manor, like that of Christchurch, once belonged to Isabella de Fortibus, and was given, with some other possessions, by Edward I., to her rightful heir, the Earl of Devon, whose arms are still quartered with those of the Corporation. It is another of those towns, which, like Christchurch, though in a very different way, is associated with the past. It has no monastic buildings, no ruins of any kind, no church worth even a glance. Yet, too, it can tell of departed greatness.

From the coins which have been dug up in the town, and the camp at Buckland Rings,^[16] it was evidently well known to the Romans. In Domesday, the famous Roger de Yvery held one hyde here; but its woods were thrown into the Forest, and for this reason the manor was only rated at one half. No mention is made of its salt-works, though we know, from a grant of Richard de Redvers, in 1147, confirming his father's bequest of the tithe of them to Quarr Abbey, that they were then probably in existence.^[17] Larger than Portsmouth, in 1345, it contributed nearly double the number of ships and men to Edward III.'s fleet for the invasion of France. We must not, however, conclude that it has decreased.^[18] Larger now than ever, like so many other old towns, it has not increased in a relative proportion with younger rivals favoured by the accidents of position or commerce. Like, too, all other similar ports, it has its tales to tell of French invasions, and, like similar boroughs, of the Civil War; but they are merely traditional, and, therefore, vague and unsatisfactory. Loyal from first to last, it is said to have at its own cost supplied with provisions the ships of Prince Charles, when he lay in the Yarmouth Roads, hoping to rescue his father from Carisbrook. In still later times, carried away by Protestant sympathies, it espoused the cause of the imbecile Monmouth, the mayor raising some hundred men to join his standard.^[19]

Most of the places round Lymington, Buckland Rings, Boldre Church, Sway Common, with its barrows, we have already seen. A little, though, to the eastward, at Baddesley, near Sowley Pond, formerly stood a Preceptory of the Knights Templar, and afterwards of those of St. John of Jerusalem. At the Dissolution it was granted to Sir Thomas Seymour, and again by Edward VI. to Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, but subsequently, under Mary, restored to the Hospitallers. Nothing of it is now left.^[20]

Here, then, at Lymington, we have been the whole circumference of the Forest. I do not know that I have omitted anything of real interest. Mere idle gossip, vague stories, I have left to those who care to write, and those who like to read such things. The geology, and botany, and folk-lore of the district, to which it was impossible to do more than to make general references, will be found in the succeeding chapters. As was before said, in the wild commons and woods themselves I have myself taken the greatest interest, and wished to impress their beauty on the reader, feeling that a love for Nature is the mainspring of all that is noble in life, and all that is precious in Art. I do not know either that I have anywhere exaggerated. On the contrary, no words can paint, much more exaggerate, the loveliness of the woods. And of all walks in the district, this over the Hordle and Barton Cliffs is by no means the least beautiful, though no longer in the Forest.

Footnotes

1. Scott used to admire the Red King; but I suspect, judging from quotations, his praise was rather the result of friendship than of unbiassed criticism. The following lines, from Rose's MS. poem of "Gundimore" (quoted in Lockhart's Life of Scott, p. 145, foot-note), are interesting from their subject, and at the conclusion, though the idea is borrowed, are really fine:—

   "Here Walter Scott has wooed the Northern Muse,
   Here he with me has joyed to walk or cruize;
   And hence has pricked through Ytene's holt, where we
   Have called to mind how under greenwood tree,
   Pierced by the partner of his 'woodland craft,'
   King Rufus fell by Tiril's random shaft.
   Hence have we ranged by Keltic camps and barrows,
   Or climbed the expectant bark, to thread the Narrows
   Of Hurst, bound westward to the gloomy bower
   Where Charles was prisoned in yon island tower.
   
   

   Here, witched from summer sea and softer reign,
   Foscolo courted Muse of milder strain.
   On these ribbed sands was Coleridge pleased to pace
   Whilst ebbing seas have hummed a rolling base
   To his rapt talk."

2. Antiquities, vol. ii., where there is a sketch of the Grange as it was in 1777.
3. For the geology of High Cliff, Barton, and Hordle Cliffs, see chapter xx. There are not many fossils in either the grey sand or the green clay before you reach the "bunny." Plenty, however, may be found in the top part of the bed immediately above, known as the "High Cliff Beds," and which rise from the shore about a quarter of a mile to the east of the stream.
4. Chewton is not mentioned in Domesday. Beckley (Beceslei), which is close by, where there was a mill which paid thirty pence, had a quarter of its land taken into the Forest; whilst Baishley (Bichelei) suffered in the same proportion. Fernhill lost two-thirds of its worst land, and Milton (Middeltune) its woods, which fed forty hogs, by which its assessment was reduced to one-half.
5. At this point the Marine Beds end, and the Brackish-Water series crop up; and then, lastly, the true Fresh-Water shells commence—the Paludinæ and Limnææ, with scales of fish, and plates of chelonians, and bones of palæotheres, and teeth of dichodons. See, further, chapter xx.
6. See Lappenberg's England under the Anglo-Norman Kings. Ed. Thorpe, p. 89.
7. Yarranton, in that strange but clever work, England's Improvement by Land and Sea (Ed. 1677, pp. 43-63), dwells at length on the quantity of iron-stone along the coast, and the advantage of the New Forest for making charcoal to smelt the metal. He proposed to build two forges and two furnaces for casting guns, near Ringwood, where the ore was to be brought up the Avon.

8. "That narrow sea, which we the Solent term,
   Where those rough ireful tides, as in her straights they meet,
   With boisterous shocks and roars each other rudely greet;
   Which fiercely when they charge, and sadly when they make retreat,
   Upon the bulwark forts of Hurst and Calshot beat,
   Then to Southampton run.
   — Polyolbion, book ii.

9. Hall's Union of the Families of Leicester and York, xxxi. year of King Henry VIII., ff. 234, 235; London, 1548.
10. From Peck (Desiderata Curiosa, vol. i., b. ii., part iv., p. 66) we find that in Elizabeth's reign the captain received 1s. 8d. a day; the officer under him, 1s.; and the master-gunner and porter, and eleven gunners and ten soldiers, 6d. each, which in Grose's time had been increased to 1s. (Grose's Antiquities, vol. ii., where a sketch is given of the castle). Hurst, on account of its strength, was to have been betrayed, in the Dudley conspiracy, to the French, by Uvedale, Captain of the Isle of Wight. (Uvedale's Confession, Domestic MSS., vol. vii., quoted in Froude's History of England, vol. vi. p. 438.) Ludlow mentions the great importance of Hurst being secured to the Commonwealth, as both commanding the Isle of Wight and stopping communication with the mainland (Memoirs, p. 323). Hammond, in a letter from Carisbrook Castle, June 25th, 1648, says it is "of very great importance to the island. It is a place of as great strength as any I know in England" (Peck's Desiderata Curiosa, vol. ii., b. ix., p. 383).
11. Sir Thomas Herbert's Memoirs of the two last Years of the Reign of King Charles I., Ed. 1702, pp. 87, 88.
12. Warwick calls the King's rooms "dog lodgings" (Memoirs, p. 334); but it is evident from Herbert (Memoirs, p. 94) that both Charles and his attendants were well treated, which we know from Whitelock (Memorials of English Affairs, p. 359; London, 1732) was the wish of the army, as also from the letter of Colonel Hammond's deputies given in Rushworth (vol. ii., part iv., p., 1351). Of Colonel Hammond's own treatment of the King we learn from Charles himself, who, besides speaking of him as a man of honour and feeling, said "that he thought himself as safe in Hammond's hands as in the custody of his own son" (Whitelock, p. 321).
13. Evidently a misprint for three-quarters of an hour.
14. Herbert's Memoirs, pp. 85-86.
15. A Keltic derivation for both places has been proposed, but it is not on critical grounds satisfactory.
16. Gough possessed a brass coin inscribed Tetricus Sen. rev. Lætitia Augg., found here; and adds that in 1744 nearly 2 cwt. of coins of the Lower Empire were discovered in two urns. Camden's Britannia, Ed. Gough, vol. i. p. 132.
17. The grant is given in the Appendix to Warner's South-West Parts of Hampshire, vol. ii., p. i., No. 1.
18. Like those of Christchurch, the Corporation books of Lymington are full of interest, though they do not commence till after 1545, the previous records being generally supposed to have been burnt by D'Annebault in one of his raids on the south coast. Du Bellay, however, who, in his Mémoires, has so circumstantially narrated the French movements, says nothing of Lymington having suffered, nor can I find it mentioned in any of the State papers of the time. Take, for instance, the following entries from the Chamberlain's books:—

    "1643.	Quartering 20 soldiers one daie and night, going westward for the Parliam' service	xvi.s. ij.d.
    1646.	For bringinge the toune cheste from Hurst Castell	ij.s.
    1646.	Watche when the allarme was out of Wareham	iiij.s
    1646.	For the sending a messenger to the Lord Hopton, when he lay att Winton with his army, with the toune's consent	xiiij.s.
    1648.	For keeping a horse for the Lord General's man	iij.s. x.d.
    1650.	Paid to Sir Thomas Fairfax his souldiers going for the isle of Wight with their general's passe	xij.s."

    Such entries to an historian of the period would be invaluable, as showing not only the state of the country but of the town, when the town-chest had to be sent four miles for safety; and proving, too, that here (notice the fourth entry), as elsewhere, there were two nearly equally balanced factions—one for the King, the other for the Commonwealth. I may add that a little book has been privately printed, of extracts from the Lymington Corporation books, from which the foregoing have been taken. It would be a very good plan if those who have the leisure would render some such similar service in other boroughs.

19. Warner's Hampshire, vol. i., sect, ii., p. 6; London, 1795. See, too, previously, ch. xi., p. 122, foot-note.
20. See Dugdale's Monasticon Anglicanum, vol. vi., part ii., p. 800. Tanner's Notitia Monastica. Ed. Nasmyth, 1787. Hampshire. No. iv.