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old church, dating, it is said, from Saxon times, with a spire that 
forms a landmark in the country around. In the churchyard is a 
grand old yew; and several ancient oaks are near by, of great size 
but now fallen into decay. Three miles to the southward, at Boldre, 
stands another of those curious old New Forest churches, surrounded 
by fine old oaks, and the square tower of which forms a conspicuous 
landmark. In Boldre churchyard lies buried the Rev. William 
Gilpin, the author of Forest Scenery, who was vicar of the parish, 
and died in 1804. Tradition says that the body of the Duke of 
Monmouth was secretly brought here after his execution on Tower 
Hill, London, in 1685, and buried in the churchyard; but Gilpin 
doubts this, and adds, “‘ Unless he were buried, as might possibly 
be the case, under a fictitious name.” 
BEAULIEU TO LYNDHURST. 
Time would not allow of us making the detour by Brokenhurst, 
and we therefore took the direct route by Beaulieu Road Station 
for Lyndhurst. Leaving Beaulieu, the drive was delightful for a 
mile or more along the valley, with the river on our right 
winding through fresh green meadows beneath umbrageous 
banks. Anon we leave the Manor lands and again enter the 
Forest, at Pennerley Gate; and passing through Tantany Wood, 
the first bit of real forest we have seen, we much enjoy the 
grateful shade of the tall leafy trees which closely o’erhang 
the road and break the fierce rays of the noontide sun. Soon, 
however, we are again out on the wide heath-clad common, with 
wild nature around us in all its peculiarly attractive features. 
It was a lovely day, the sun shone brightly, the air was clear 
though oppressively hot, and the forest scenery, looking its best, 
was correspondingly enjoyed. As the horses toiled along the 
yellow, gravelly roads, there was ample opportunity for surveying 
the scene. From the gorse-fringed road along which we were 
driving the eye wandered over great plains covered with heather in 
richest bloom, with here and there a few scrubby trees or ancient 
tumuli with their rounded outlines, breaking the flatness of the 
surface. Then the carriages would dive into a tree-clad hollow, 
and emerge again into the open to disclose the same familiar 
aspects of scenery. Habitations were few, even in sheltered 
hollows, and the rough aspect of the sparse population seemed to 
correspond with their wild surroundings. Herds of cattle and of 
