APPENDICES.

Common Buzzard’s Nest.

Honey-Buzzard’s Nest.

The accompanying vignette will, I trust, although the nests are so exactly alike, be of some interest. Whilst the artist was sketching the honey-buzzard’s nest, the old bird, the first which I had noticed in 1862, made its appearance and circled round the tree, uttering its peculiar short shrill squeak. This nest, which had been repaired in the previous year, the dead beech-leaves still hanging on to the twigs, was between forty and fifty feet from the ground; whilst that of the common buzzard, who, whilst sitting, had, a month before, been killed, was upwards of seventy feet, and placed on the very topmost boughs of a beech, on which tree was also the other.

But more important than even the nesting of the honey-buzzardis that of the merlin (Falco æsalon), which fact has never yet been, so far as I know, noticed as occurring in the New Forest. In the winter this little hawk is sometimes seen hunting, as it does in Ireland, the snipe, although but few specimens find their way to the bird-stuffer. It lingers on, however, to the summer, but the opportunities then of watching its habits are more rare, as the foliage of the woods is so thick. In 1859 and 1861 Mr. Farren received two nests with three eggs, taken in old pollard hollies growing in the open heath, which in every way corresponded with those of the merlin, being considerably smaller than those of kestrels. Unfortunately, however, he could not procure the parent birds, and the fact of the merlin’s nesting remained doubtful. In 1862 he was at last successful, and on May 22nd discovered a nest, placed in the hole of a yew, also containing, like the others, three eggs, from which the male bird was shot. Both the bird and eggs are now in my collection, the latter being somewhat richer and darker in colour than those which I have received from the Orkney and Shetland islands. The important fact, however, to be noticed is that, as Temminck remarks, the birds in a woody country build in trees, whilst in the north of Britain, where there is no timber, they adapt themselves to the country, and lay on the ground.[286]

The marsh and hen-harriers, too, frequent the moors and heaths of the Forest, especially the latter, locally known as the “blue hawks.” Some few pairs of these breed here, and in 1859 a nest containing three young birds was found near Picket Post by a woodman, and another in 1862, with three eggs, on Beaulieu Heath. One of the Forest keepers described the fern for some distance round a nest, which he discovered, as completely trodden down by the young birds, and so littered with feathers and dirt that, to use his words, the place had exactly the appearance of a goose-pen. A woodman, too, who in 1860 was set to watch a pair near Ocknell, gave me an interesting account of his seeing the old birds breaking off the young tops of the fern to form their nest. I have nevermyself been fortunate enough in the Forest to find their nest, but I have often watched a pair on Black Knoll and Beaulieu Heath skimming over the ground, pausing to hover just above the furze, then flying forward for some ten or twenty yards, turning themselves suddenly sideways; and then again, for a minute, poising, kestrel-like, beating each bush, and every now and then going up a little higher in the air, but quickly coming down close over the cover.

Passing from the falcons, let us look at the owls, of which the Forest possesses four, if not more, varieties. The commonest is the tawny (Strix aluco), whose hooting fills the woods all through the winter. At Stoney Cross I have repeatedly heard, on a still November night, a pair of them calling to one another at least two miles apart. It not only breeds in holes of trees, but in old crows’-nests, and will often, when its eggs are taken, lay again within a week. The barn owl, strange to say, is not much more abundant than the long-eared (Strix otus), which breeds in the old holly-bushes, generally taking some magpie’s nest, where it lays three eggs. Rarer still is the short-eared (Strix brachyotus), which visits the Forest in November, staying through the winter, and in the day-time rising out of the dry heath and withered fern.[287]

Leaving the owls, let us notice some of the other birds. Many a time, in the cold days of March, have I seen the woodcocks, in the new oak plantations of Wootton, carrying their young under their wing, clutching them up in their large claws. Here, on the ground, they lay their eggs, which are of the same colour as the withered oak-leaves—a dull ochre, spottedand clouded with brown, and are thus easily overlooked. About the same time, or even earlier—in February—the raven will build, or rather used to, in the old woods round Burley. In 1858 the two last nests were taken, the eggs being somewhat smaller than those which I have received from the Orkneys. Another of its breeding stations was in Puckpits, where, however, it has not built for the last four seasons. Formerly the bird was common enough, as the different Ravensnest Woods still show; and old men in the Forest have told me, in direct opposition, however, to what Yarrell says,[288]that when, as boys, taking its eggs, they were obliged to arm themselves with stones and sticks to drive off the parent birds, who fiercely defended their nests with their claws and bills. Now it is nearly extinct, though a pair may sometimes be seen wherever there is a dead horse or cow in the district.

Then, when the summer comes, and the woods are green and dark, the honey-buzzard skims round the tops of the trees; and the snipe, whose young have not yet left the swamps, goes circling high up in the air, “bleating,” as the common people here call the noise of its wings, each time it descends in its waving, wandering flight; whilst out on the open spaces the whinchat, known throughout the Forest, from its cry, as the “furze hacker,” jerks itself from one furze branch to another; and flitting along with it fly a pair of Dartford warblers.

And as, too, evening draws down, from the young green fern the goatsucker, the “night-crow” and the “night-hawk” of the district, springs up under your feet, and settles a few yards off, and then flies a little way farther, hoping to lead you from its white marble-veined eggs on the bare ground.

Such scenes can the Forest show to the ornithologist in spring and summer, nor is it less interesting to him in the winter. Here, as he wanders across some moor, flocks of fieldfares and missel-thrushes start out of the hollies, and the ring-ousel skulks off from the yew. A bittern, its neck encircled with a brown frill of feathers, is, perhaps, wading by the stream; and hark! from out of the sky comes the clanging of a wedge-shaped flock of grey-lag geese.

Instead of a chapter a volume might be written upon the ornithology of the New Forest, especially about the winter visitants—the flocks of pochards, and teal, and tufted-ducks, which darken the Avon, and the swans and geese which whiten the Solent. I have stood for hours on the beach at Calshot, and watched the faint cloud in the horizon gradually change into a mass of wings beating with one stroke, or marked string after string of wigeon come splashing down in the mid-channel. Little flocks of ring-dotterels and dunlins flit overhead, their white breasts flashing in the winter sun every time they wheeled round. The shag flies heavily along, close to the water, with his long outstretched neck, melancholy and slow, and the cry of the kittiwake sounds from the mud-flats.

To leave, however, the winter birds, and to pass on to more general observations, let me notice a curious fact about the tree-creeper (Certhia familiaris) in the southern parts of the Forest. Here there are large plantations of firs, and consequently but few holes in the trees. To make up for this deficiency, I have twice found the creeper’s nest placed inside a squirrel’s “cage,” showing the same adaptability to circumstances which is met with in the whole animal creation. Here, too, in these thick firs build great numbers of jays; and I have, when climbing up to their nests, more than once seena squirrel coming out with an egg in its claw or mouth. I should have been inclined to have doubted the fact had I not seen it. The sucked eggs which are so often found must, therefore, be attributed quite as much to the squirrel as the magpie or the jay, who have so long borne the guilt. Of course, too, from the great extent of wood we should expect to find the woodpeckers very plentiful. The common woodpecker, known as the “yaffingale” and “woodnacker,” is to be seen darting down every glade. The greater-spotted (Picus major) is not unfrequent, and the lesser-spotted (Picus minor) in the spring comes out of the woods and frequents the orchards of Burley and Alum Green, boring its hole in the dead boughs.

And here let me notice the tenacity with which the greater-spotted woodpecker, whose nesting habits are not elsewhere in England so well observable, clings to its breeding-place; for I have known it, when its eggs have been taken, to lay again in the same hole, the eggs being, however, smaller. Mr. Farren tells me that he has observed the same fact, which is curious, as its ally, the green woodpecker, is so easily driven away, by even a common starling.

The presence of the great black woodpecker (Picus martius) has long been suspected, especially since a specimen has been killed in the Isle of Wight, and a pair have been seen near Christchurch.[289]Mr. Farren, in 1862, was fortunate enough not only to see the bird, but to discover its nest. On the ninth of June, whilst in Pignel Wood, near Brockenhurst, he observed the hen bird fly out of a hole placed about six feet high in a small oak, from which he had earlier in the season taken a green woodpecker’s nest. Hiding himself in the bushwood,he saw, after waiting about half an hour, the hen return, and had no doubts as to its identity. An endeavour, however, to secure her in the hole, with the butterfly-net which he had with him, was unsuccessful. He was afraid to leave the eggs, as some woodmen were working close by, and so lost any other opportunity of making the capture. The eggs, now in my collection, were four in number, one being slightly addled, and are the only specimens ever taken in England. They were laid on the bare rotten wood, the bird finding the hole sufficiently large, as Mr. Farren had widened it when taking the previous eggs. It is, however, remarkable that such a shy bird should have built in such a scattered and thin wood as Pignel, close to a public thoroughfare, and where the woodmen had for some time past been constantly felling timber.

But what gives the Forest so much of its character is the number of herons who have lately established themselves in various parts. You can scarcely go along a stream-side without surprising some one or two, which, as you approach, flap their large slate-coloured wings, and fly off with a rolling, heavy motion, circling in the air as they go. Down at Exbury, at the mouth of the Beaulieu river, they may be seen in companies of threes and fours, wading in the shallows, probing their long bills into the mud and sand; and then, as the tide comes up, making off to the freshwater ponds. They are, however, I am afraid, rather persecuted, as they never long here remain at one breeding station. They first took up their abode in Old Burley Wood, and then removed to Wood Fidley, and subsequently to Denney, and finally to Vinney Ridge. In 1861, fifty pairs, at least, must have built in its tall beeches. On a fine early spring morning, a long grey line of them would perch on the neighbouring green of Dame Slough,picking up the twigs of heather and flying off with them to line their great platforms of nests; and then sailing down to the Blackwater stream, in the “bottom” close by, to fish. In the morning and evening, and, in fact, all through the day, one incessant clamour was going on, and under the trees lay great eels, which had fallen from their nests.

Last year the numbers were greatly decreased, the birds having been, perhaps, driven away by the woodcutters and charcoal-burners employed to cut down the surrounding timber. The sketch which stands at the head of this chapter was taken in June—too late in the year to show any of the nests, but several young birds were still hovering round who had not even then quite quitted. A small colony has, too, established itself at Boldrewood, where I trust it will be protected; for few birds possess so much character, and give so much beauty to the landscape.

Before we conclude, let us glance at some other peculiarities of the Forest district, and its effects on its birds. It is not too far westward for the east winds to bring the hoopoe, so common in Sussex. Throughout the summer of 1861, a pair were constantly flying about and hopping on the “Lawn” near Wilverley Forest Lodge. The black redstart (Sylvia tithys) and the fire-crest (Regulus ignicapillus) just skim its borders in their westerly winter migrations. Small flocks of dotterel make it their halting spot for a few days in spring, on their way to their northern breeding-places. In the winter, its mildness brings numbers of siskins, some few bramblings, and the common and even the parrot crossbill, escaping from the frosts of the north.

Other things may be mentioned. The hawfinches do not stay all the year round, as might be expected, or, at least, onlyone or two pairs, simply because there are no hornbeams in the Forest, nor gardens to tempt them with their fruits. The chough, too, is seldom seen, its eggs and young being plundered in the Isle of Wight cliffs and the Lulworth rocks. It is now extinct in Sussex, and will soon be in the New Forest. Yet these birds were once so numerous in England, not only damaging the crops, but unthatching the barns and houses, that a special Act of Parliament was passed against them.[290]Twopence for a dozen heads were given. People were, under various penalties, bound to destroy them, and parishes were ordered to keep chough and crow nets in repair.

There is, unfortunately, no other forest in England by which we can make comparisons with the ornithology of the New Forest. In Churchill Babington’s excellent synopsis of the birds of Charnwood Forest, we find only one hundred and twenty-five species, but little more than one-half of those in the New Forest. Out of the three hundred and fifty-four British birds the New Forest possesses seventy-two residents, whilst it has had no less than two hundred and thirty killed or observed within its boundaries.[291]With this we must end. I am afraid it is too late to protest against the slaughter of our few remaining birds of prey. The eagle and kite are, to all purpose, extinct, in England, and the peregrine and honey-buzzard will soon share their fate. The sight of a large bird now calls out all the raffish gunsof a country-side. Ornithologists have, however, themselves to thank. With some honourable exceptions, I know no one so greedy as a true ornithologist. The botanist does not uproot every new flower which he discovers, but—for he loves them too well—carefully spares some plants to grow and increase; whilst few ornithologists rest content till they see the specimen safe in their cabinets. This, I suppose, must be, from the nature of the study, the case. Still, however, the love for Nature, and the enthusiasm which it gives, must be regarded as a far greater offset. And here let me, for the last time, say that I feel sure that nobody knows anything of the true charms of the country who is ignorant of natural history. With the slightest love and knowledge of it, then every leaf is full of meaning, every pebble a history, every torn branch, gilded with lichens, and silvered with mosses, has its wonders to tell; and you will find life in the dust, and beauty in the commonest weed.

View in Buckhill Wood.

MAP OF THE NEW FOREST.High-resolution Map

I could easily have expanded the following glossary to three times its size, but my object is to give only some specimens of those words which have not yet found their way into, or have not been fully explained in Mr. Halliwell’s or Mr. Wright’s dictionaries of provincialisms. The following collection is, I believe, the first ever made of the New Forest, or even, with the exception of the scanty list in Warner,[292]of Hampshire provincialisms, which of course to a certain extent it represents,—more especially those of the western part of the county. A separate work, however, would be needed to give the whole collection, and the following examples must here suffice.

Of course I do not say that all these words are to be found only in the New Forest. Many of them will doubtless be elsewhere discovered, though they hitherto, as here, have escaped notice. The time, however, for assigning the limits of our various provincialisms and provincial dialects has not yet arrived.

The use of the personal pronoun “he,” as, throughout the West of England, applied to things alike animate and inanimate, and the substitution of “thee” for you, when the speaker is angry, or wishes to be emphatic, may be here noticed. In the Forest, too, as in parts of Berkshire, a woman when employed upon out-door work is sometimes spoken of in the masculine gender, as the Hungarians are falsely said to have done of their queen on a certain memorable occasion. The confusion of cases which has been noticed by philologists is here, as in other parts of England, rather the result of ignorance than a peculiar character of the dialect.

Adder’s-Fern.The common polypody (Polypodium vulgare), so called from its rows of bright spores. The hard-fern (Blechnum boreale) is known as the “snake-fern.”

Allow, To. To think, suppose, consider. This word exactly corresponds to the American “guess” (which, by the way, is no Americanism, but used by Wiclif in his Bible: see Luke, ch. vii. v. 43), and is employed as often and as indefinitely in the New Forest. If you ask a peasant how far it is to any place, his answer nearly invariably is, “I allow it to be so far.” “Suppose,” in Sussex, is used in much the same way.

Bell-heath.SeeRed-heath.

Bed-furze.The dwarf furze (Ulex nanus), which is very common throughout the Forest.

Black-heath.SeeRed-heath.

Black-heart, The. The bilberry (Vaccinium Myrtillus), the “whimberry” of the northern counties, which grows very plentifully throughout the Forest. It is so called, by a singular corruption, the original word being hartberry, the Old-Englishheorot-berg, to which the qualifying adjective has been added, whilst the terminal substantive has been lost, and the first totally misapprehended. To go “hearting” is a very common phrase. (SeeProceedings of the Philological Society, vol. iii. pp. 154, 155.)

Brize.To press. “Brize it down,” means, press it down. Is this only another form of the old word prize, preese, to press, crowd?

Boughy.A tree, which instead of running up straight is full of boughs, is said to be “boughy.” It is also used generally of thick woods. Akin to it is the old word buhsomenesse, boughsomeness, written, as Mr. Wedgwood notices (Dictionary of English Etymology, p. 285), buxomeness by Chaucer.

Bower-Stone, A. A boundary-stone. Called a “mere-stone” in some of the Midland Counties. Perhaps from the Kelticbwr, an inclosure, intrenchment; just as manor is said to be frommaenawr, a district with a stone bound.

Bound-Oak.SeeOak, Mark-.

Brownies, The. The bees.Seechap. xvi.,p. 185.

Brow.Mr. Halliwell and Mr. Wright give this as a Wiltshire word, in the sense of brittle. In the New Forest it is applied only to short, snappy, splintering timber of bad quality.

Buck, The. The stag-beetle, so called from its strong horn-likeantennæ. The children, when catching it, sing this snatch—

“High buck,Low buck,Buck, come down.”

“High buck,

Low buck,

Buck, come down.”

It is also called pinch-buck. The female is known as the doe.See“Bryanston Buck,” in Mr. Barnes’sGlossary of theDorsetshire Dialect, appended to hisPoems of Rural Life.

Bunch, A. A blow, or the effects of a blow; and then a blotch, burn, scald, pimple, in which latter senses “bladder” is also often used. The verb “to bunch,” to strike, is sometimes heard.SeeWedgwood (vol. i. p. 269, and vol. ii. p. 263) on its allied forms. Used by Pope,Iliad, bk. ii. 328.

Cammock, The. (From the Old-Englishcammec,cammoc,cammuc.) The various species of St. John’s-wort, so plentiful in the neighbourhood of the New Forest; then, any yellow flower, as the fleabane (Pulica dysenterica) and ragwort (Senecto Jacobæa). In Dorsetshire, according to Mr. Barnes, it only means the rest-harrow (Ononis arvensis).

Cass, A. A spar used in thatching, called in the Midland and North-Western Counties a “buckler.” Before it is made into a cass, it is called a “spargad.”

Cattan, A. A sort of noose or hinge, which unites the “hand-stick” to the flail. It is made in two parts. The joint which joins the “hand-stick” is formed of ash or elm, whilst that which fits the flail is made of leather, as it is required to be more flexible near the part which strikes the floor. Mr. Wright and Mr. Halliwell give as a North-country word the verb “catton,” to beat, with which there is evidently some connection.

Childag, A. A chilblain. Often called simply a “dag,” and “chilbladder.”

Cleet, A. More generally used in the plural, as “cleets.” Iron tips on a shoe. Hence we have the expression, “to cleet oxen,” that is, to shoe them when they work.

Close.Hard, sharp. “It hits close,” means it hits hard.

Cothe.(From the Old-English “coða, coðe.”) A “cothe sheep,” means a sheep diseased in its liver. The springs in the New Forest are said “to cothe” the sheep—that is, to disease their livers. Hence we have such places as “Cothy Mead,” and “Cothy Copse.” Mr. Barnes (as before) gives the form “acothed,” as used in Dorsetshire.

Crink-crank.“Crink-crank words” are long words—verba sesquipedalia—not properly understood. (SeeProceedings of Philological Society, vol. v. pp. 143-148.)

Crow-peck, The. The Shepherd’s needle (Scandix-pecten Veneris); called also “old woman’s needle.” There is a common saying in the New Forest, that “Two crow-pecks are as good as an oat for a horse;” to which the reply is, “That a crow-peck and a barley-corn may be.”

Crutch, A. (From the Friesickroek, connected with the Old-Englishcrocca, our crock). A dish, or earthenware pipkin. We daily in the New Forest and the neighbourhood hear of lard and butter crutches. The word “shard,” too, by the way, is still used in the Forest for a cup, and housewives still speak of a “shard of tea.”

Cuttran, A. A wren; more commonly called a “cutty;” which last word Mr. Barnes gives in hisGlossary of the Dorsetshire Dialect, p. 331, but which is common throughout the West of England. As Mr. Barnes, p. 354, observes, the word is nothing more than cutty wren;—the little wren. (See“Kittywitch,”Transactions of Philological Society, 1855, p. 33.)

Decker, orDicker, To. One of the old forms of to deck; literally, to cover; from the Old-English “þeccan;” in German,decken. It now, however, only signifies to ornament or spangle. A lady’s fingers are said to be deckered with rings, or the sky with stars.

Deer’s-Milk.Wood-spurge (Euphorbia amygdaloides). So called from the white viscous juice which exudes from its stalks when gathered.

Dount, To. To dint, or imprint. Formed, as Mr. Wedgwood remarks, of the kindred words, dint, dent, dunt, by an onomatopoëtic process. We find the word in an old song still sung in the New Forest, “A Time to remember the Poor:”—

“Here’s the poor harmless hare from the woods that is tracked,And her footsteps deep dounted in snow.”

“Here’s the poor harmless hare from the woods that is tracked,

And her footsteps deep dounted in snow.”

Dray, A. A prison; “the cage” of the Midland districts. Curiously enough the old poet William Browne, as also Wither, speaks of a squirrel’s nest as a “dray”—still used, by-the-by, in some counties—which in the New Forest is always called a “cage.” In this last sense Mr. Lower adds it to the glossary of Sussex provincialisms (Sussex Archæological Collections, vol. xiii., p. 215). I may further note that at Christmas in the Forest, as in other wooded parts of England, squirrel-feasts are held. Two parties of boys and young men go into the woods armed with “scales” and “snogs” (see chap. xvi.p. 182), to see who will kill the most squirrels. Sometimes as many as a hundred or more are brought home, when they are baked in a pie. Their fur, too, is sought after for its glossiness.

Drum, Ivy-, An. The stem of an ivy tree or bush, which grows round the hole of another tree.

Drunch, To. To draw up, press, squeeze. We find the substantive “drunge,” with which it is evidently connected, given in Wright as a Wiltshire pronunciation for pressure, or crowd. Mr. Barnes also, in hisGlossary of the Dorsetshire Dialect, p. 235, gives the forms “dringe” or “drunge,” to squeeze or push.

Elam, An. An handful of thatch. Common both in the New Forest and Wiltshire. In the former three elams make a bundle, and twenty bundles one score, and four scores a ton. In the latter the measurement is somewhat different, five elams forming a bundle.

Fessey.(From the Old-Englishfús, ready, prompt, quick). Proud, upstart. In the glossaries of Wright and Halliwell we find “fess” given as the commoner form.

Fetch, To. Used with reference to churning butter. “To fetch the butter,” means, to raise the cream into a certain consistency.

Fire-bladder.A pimple, or eruption on the face.See“bunch.”

Flisky.Small, minute. Used especially of misty rain.

Flitch, or quite as oftenFritch. (From the Old-Englishflit, orgeflit). Not only as explained in the glossary of Wiltshire, impertinent, busy, but, by someboustrophêdonprocess, good-humoured. “You are very flitch to-day,” that is, good-natured.

Fluders.Worms, which on certain land get into the livers of sheep, when the animal is said to be “cothed.” Called also “flukes,” and “flounders.”Seethe word “cothe.”

Gait, A. A crotchet, or, as the vulgar expression is, a maggot. Used always in a deprecatory sense. When a person has done anything foolish he says, “this is a gait I have got.” Doubtless, identical with “get” in Wedgwood, vol. ii. p. 144.

Gettet.Sprung, or slightly cracked. Used throughout the West of England.

Giggle, To. To stand awry or crooked. Said especially of small things, which do not stand upright.

Glutch, To. (From the French en-gloutir). Not simply, to swallow or gulp, as explained in the glossaries, but more especially to stifle a sob.

Gold-heath, The. The bog-moss, (Sphagnum squarrosum), which is used in the New Forest to make fine brooms.

Gold-withey, The. The bog-myrtle, or English mock-myrtle (MyricaGale), mentioned in Mr. Kingsley’s New Forest ballad,—

“They wrestled up, they wrestled down,They wrestled still and sore;Beneath their feet, the myrtle sweet,Was stamped in mud and gore.”

“They wrestled up, they wrestled down,

They wrestled still and sore;

Beneath their feet, the myrtle sweet,

Was stamped in mud and gore.”

It grows in all the wet places in the Forest, and is excessively sweet, the fruit being furnished with resinous glands. It is said to be extensively used in drugging the beer in the district.

Graff, or grampher.SeeWosset.

Gross.Often used in a good sense for luxuriant, and applied to the young green crops, just as “proud,” and “rank,” or rather “ronk,” as it is pronounced, are in the Midland Counties.

Gunney.To look “gunney” means, to look archly or cunning. There is also the verb “to gunney.” “He gunneyed at me,” signifies, he looked straight at me. From the Frenchguigner.

Hacker, furze-, The. The whinchat, so called from its note, which it utters on the sprays of the furze.

Hame.There is a curious phrase, “all to hame,” signifying, broken to pieces, used both here and in Wiltshire. Thus the glass, when broken, is said to be “all to hame,” that is, “all to bits.” The metaphor has been taken from “spindly” wheat on bad ground running to halm, from the Old-Englishhealm, now the West-Saxon peasant’s “hame.” “All to,” I may add, is used adverbially in its old sense of entirely, quite, as we find it in Judges ix. 53.

Harl, The. The hock of a sheep.

Harvest-Lice.The seeds of the common agrimony (Agrimonia eupatoria) and “heriff” (Galium Aparine).SeeClivers, chap. xv.p. 166.

Hell.A dark place in the woods.Seechap. x.p. 110.

Herder.A sieve.Seechap. xvi.p. 185, foot-note.

Hill-trot, The. The wild carrot (Daucus Carota), used also in Wiltshire. Most probably a corruption of eltrot, eldrot, oldroot, and so from the Old-English. These last forms are given in Mr. Barnes’Glossary of the Dorset dialect, p. 336.

Hoar-withey.The whitebeam (Sorbus Aria), which, with its white leaves, is very conspicuous in the Forest. We find the word used in the perambulation of the Forest in the twenty-second year of Charles I.,—“by the road called Holloway, and from thence to Hore-withey, in the place whereof (decayed) a post standed in the ground.” It is exactly the same as the “har wiðig” of the Old-English. It is called also, but more rarely, the “white rice.”Seechap. xvi.p. 183.

Hoo, To. To simmer, boil; evidently formed, like so many other words, by an onomatopoëtic process (Seechap. xvi.p. 186). There is also the phrase, “the kettle is on the hoo,” that is, to use a vulgarism, on the simmer, or boil.

Hoop, To go a. To go where you like. “He is going a hoop,” means, he is going to the bad.

Hum-water.A cordial which is made from the common horse-mint (Mentha aquatica). Does “hum” here mean strong, as it is used in some counties with reference to beer?Seechap. xv.p. 166.

Joseph’s Walking-stick.The Joseph’s-ladder of the Midland Counties, common in all the cottage gardens round the Forest. It is curious to notice, amongst our peasantry, the religious element in the names of both the wild and cultivated flowers derived from Catholic times. Thus we have ladies’ cushions, and ladies’ tresses, and St. Peter’s-wort, and St. John’s-wort, besides the more common plants, such as marygolds and ladysmocks, which every one can remember.

Kittering.Weak. The more North-country word “tuly” is also heard in the same sense.

Lance, To. To jump, leap, or bound. Used especially of the Forest deer, whichin dry weather are said “to lance” over the turf.

Lark’s Lees, orLease, A. A piece of poor land fit only for larks, or, as the peasantry of the Midland Counties would say, only “fit to bear peewits.” Mr. Halliwell gives the form “lark leers,” as a Somersetshire phrase; but the above expression may be daily heard in the New Forest.

Louster.Noise, disturbance. “What a louster you are making,” signifies, what a confusion you are causing.

Lug-stick.SeeRug-stick.

Mallace, The. The common mallow (Malvus sylvestris). Formed like bullace, and other similar words.

Margon.Corn chamomile (Anthemis arvensis). Called “mathan,” throughout the Anglian districts.

Mark-oak,SeeOak.

Mokin, or more generally in the plural,Mokins. Coarse gaiters for defending the legs from the furze.Seechap. xv.p. 162.

Muddle, To. To fondle, caress, to rear by the hand. Hence we obtain the expression “a mud lamb,” that is, a lamb whose mother is dead, which has been brought up by hand, equivalent to the “tiddlin lamb” of the Wiltshire shepherds.SeeWosset.

Oak, Mark-, A. The same as a “bound-oak,” or boundary oak or ash, as the case may be, so called from the ancient cross, or mark, cut on the rind. As Kemble notices (The Saxons in England, vol. i., appendix A. p. 480), we find in Cod. Dipl. No. 393, “on ðán merkeden ók,” to the marked oak, showing how old is the name. I have never met in the New Forest with an instance of a “crouch oak” (fromcrois), such as occurs at Addlestone in Surrey, and which is said to have been the “bound-oak” of Windsor Forest (SeeThe Saxons in England, as before, vol. i. chap. ii. p. 53, foot-note). The “bound-oak,” marked in the Ordnance Map near Dibden, has fallen, but we find the name preserved in the fine old wood of Mark Ash, near Lyndhurst. In the perambulation of the Forest in the 29th year of Edward I. we read of the Merkingstak of Scanperisgh. The various eagle-oaks in the Forest are comparatively modern, and must not be confounded with the eagle-oak mentioned by Kemble (as above, vol. i. p. 480).

Omary Cheese.An inferior sort of cheese, made of skim-milk, called in most parts of England “skim Dick.”See, further on, the wordRammel, and also Vinney, chap. xvi. p. 190.

Once.Sometime. “I will pay you once this week,” does not mean in contradistinction to twice, but I will pay you sometime during the week.

Overrunner, An. A shrew mouse, which is supposed to portend ill-luck if it runs over a person’s foot. In Dorsetshire it is called a “shrocop,” where the same superstition is believed.SeeBarnes’Glossary of the Dorset Dialect, p. 382.

Panshard, orPonshard, A. Rage, anger. “You have no need to get in a panshard,” is a most common saying.See“peel,” further on.

Patchy.Testy. Said of people who proverbially “blow hot and cold.”

Peel, A. A disturbance, noise. “To be in a peel,” means, to be in a passion. Used in much the same sense as the word “pelt,” which is rightly explained in the glossaries as anger, noise, rage, though it is, perhaps, more spoken of animals than “peel.” “What a pelt the dog is making,” that is, barking, would be said rather than “peel.”

Picked.Sharp, pointed. “A picked piece,” means a field with one or more sharp angular corners.

Pity.Love. “Pity is akin to love,” says Shakspeare, but in the West of England it is often the same.

Plash, A. A mill-head. Winkton is locally called Winkton Plash, this exactly corresponding to the Weringetone ofDomesday, with its two mills “ad aulam.”

Puck, To. To put up sheaves, especially of barley and oats, which are called “pucks.” Used throughout the West of England in contradistinction to “hiling,” applied only to wheat, which is placed in “hiles.” In Dorsetshire, however, this last operation is called “stitching.”Seethe word “stitch” in Mr. Barnes’Glossary of the Dorsetshire Dialect, p. 391.

Quar, A. The udder of a cow or sheep, when hard after calving or lambing. Beer also is said to be “quarred,” when it drinks hard or rough.

Quat-vessel, The. The meadow-thistle (Carduus pratensis), which is common in the New Forest.

RammelCheese.The best sort of cheese, made of cream and new milk, in contradistinction to Omary, or Arnary, cheese, and Hasskin cheese.

Rammucky.Dissolute, wanton. “A rammucky man,” means a depraved character.

Ramward, or rather, ramhard. To the right. A corruption of framward, or fromward. So “toard,” or “toward,” means to the left, that is, towards you. Both words are used throughout the West of England, and are good examples of what Professor Müller would call “phonetic decay.” With them may be compared the sailor’s terms “starboard” and “larboard,” on whichseeWedgwood,Dict. of English Etymology, vol. ii., p. 310.See, too, Miss Gurney on the word “woash,” which in the Eastern Counties is equivalent to “ramward.”Glossary of Norfolk Words.Transactions of the Philological Society, 1855, p. 38.

Rantipole, The. The wild carrot (Daucus carota), so called from its bunch of leaves. Used also in Wiltshire.SeeHill-trot.

Red Heath.The three heaths which grow in the New Forest—Erica tetralix,Erica cinerea, andCalluna vulgaris,—are respectively known as the bell, black, and red heaths.

Reiaves.The boards or rails put round waggons, so as to enable them to take a greater load. Used throughout the West of England.SeeMr. Barnes’ Glossary under the word Riaves, p. 375.

Rick-rack.This is only used of the weather, as “rick-rack weather,” that is, stormy, boisterous weather, and far stronger in meaning than the more common phrase, “cazalty weather.” It is evidently from the Old-Englishréc, vapoury, cloudy weather, and well serves to explain the meaning of Shakspeare’s “rack,” a cloud, in the well-known passage in theTempest(Act iv. sc. 1), which has given rise to so much controversy. Miss Gurney (Transactions of the Philological Society, 1855, p. 35), notices that “rack” is used in Norfolk for mist driven by the wind.

Ronge, To. To kick, or play, said of horses.

Rubble, To. To remove the gravel, which is deposited throughout the Forest in a thick layer over the beds of clay or marl. The gravel itself is called “the rubblin.”

Rue.A row, or hedgerow.Seechap. v.p. 56. In the Forest some of the embankments, near which perhaps the Kelts and West-Saxons lived, are called Rew- and Row-ditch. I have, too, heard of attics being called “lanes,” possibly having reference to the “ruelle” by which the space between the curtains was formerly called.

Rug-stick, also called aLug-stick. A bar in the chimney, on which “the cotterel,” or “iron scale,” or “crane,” as it is also called, to which the kettle or pot is fastened, hangs. We find the word still used in America as the “ridge-pole” of the house, which helps us at once to the derivation.

Scale, or squoyle.Seechap. xvi.p. 182.

Scull, A.(From the Old-Englishscylan, and so, literally, a division). A drove, or herd, or pack of low people, always used in an opprobrious sense. Itis properly applied to fish, especially the grey mullet which visits the coast in the autumn, and so metaphorically to beggars who go in companies. Milton uses the word

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