The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1881-08-10
Letter from England.

Letter from England.
WINCHESTER, ENGLAND, July 22d.
Few spots in England are more worthy
OF a visit than that portion of Hampshire
known by the general name of
The New Forest.
To the lover of scenery it presents al
formations of wild and woodland, upon
which there is no trace of the hand of
man, with interspersions of exquisite re-
treats and highly cultivated patches here
and there. forming contrast delightful
as can be well imagined True the oaks
rise not into lofty stems. imbless for for
ty feet as in our American forests-but
they have unique character neverthe-
less, striking out branches that would de-
light the soul of the shipbuilder in search
of knees and elbows, and twisting them
selves into the most fantastic and pictur-
esque forms. The New Forest looks like
vast area of giant trees thrown into
convulsions, suddenly transfxed and for
ever rooted in an agony of contortions.
Gustave Dore must have made pilgrim
age to it before he illustrated Dante In
ferno.
In the depths of its sixty-four thousand
acres it is not difficult matter to lose
oneself, and with the natural gloom of
its solitudes it is not strange that popu-
lar superstition has long peopled its dark
glades with horrid spectres. Here the
fiend himself was said and believed to
have appeared to the Normans announc-
ing the punishments in reserve for the
Red King and his wicked counsellors.-
Many fearful accident happened in the
chase, which the kings of those days bar
barously obtained by driving out the in
habltants and afforestine their lands.-
Richard, son of Duke Robert, was killed
while hunting. William II, surnamed
Rufus, on the August following, came to
his hunting seat in the forest with
goodly train of knights.
The Red King lies in Malwood keep
To drive the deer DER lawn and steep,
He's bound him with the morn.
His steeds are swift, his hounds are good,
The like IN covert or high. wood
Were never cheered with horn"
The night before the hunt the king was
disturbed by frightful vision. On the
morrow, when the king and his followers
were mounting for the chase, all bolster
ously gay, messenger arrived from Ser
len, the Norman Abbott of Gloucester,
to inform the king that one of his monks
had dreamed dream foreboding sud-
den and awful death to him. The king
laughed the omen to scorn and mounted
crying, "Give the monk an hundred
pence and bid him dream OF better for
tune to our person. Do they think l am
to give up my pleasure because an old
woman happens to dream or sneeze. To
horse
Death of King William
During the chase the King drew bow
on deer, but the string broke. Unpro-
vlded with second how he shouted to
Walter de Polk, Ttrahe, trahe arcua,a er
Porte dio6oh"f Shoot, Walter shoot, in
the devils name. 1t was fell incanta-
ton. Tyrrel drew his bow and the ar
row turned aside in the flight by an in
tervenlng tree, struck William on the
lett breast which was exposed by reason
OF the King having lifted his hand to
shade his eyes from the glare of the sun.
The accidental assassin remounted his
horse, and, without informing any one of
the catastrophe, galloped to the sea-coast
and embarked for sanctuary in the do
mlnlons of the French monarch.
Such is the historical explanation of the
triangular stone marking the spot on
which the tree stood against which the
fatal arrow glanced. The monument
bears the following inscription: Here
stood the oak tree on which an arrow.
shot by Sir Walter Tyrrel, at stag,
glanced and struck King William II on on
the breast; of which stroke he instantly
died on the I'd Of August, 11OO 1t was
not necessary that such accident as this
should occur in order to develop in the
popular mind bad opinion of the Forest.
Some landscapes are essentially villain
Gus. They suggest naturally supersti-
tious thoughts, if not worse. They de-
velop an obscure intelligence and dimly
lighted conscience. In the presence Of
such landscapes that engender optical il
luslons and unexplained terrors one is
tempted to excuse man and condemn ma
ture.
Standing in the midst Of New Forest.
with the gloomy mist brooding upon it..
with its piteous chirp of the twile-the
appropriate bird of desolation-with its
constant shadows-we felt that if the
truth were told these stories Of accidents
OF the olden time were in reality stories
,f