I shall conclude this account of the officers of the forest with the
singular character of one of them who lived in the times of James I. and
Charles I. * * *
The name of this memorable sportsman—for in that character alone was he
conspicuous—was Henry Hastings. He was second son to the Earl of
Huntingdon, and inherited a good estate in Dorsetshire from his mother.
He was one of the keepers of New Forest, and resided in his lodge there
during a part of every hunting-season. But his principal residence was
at Woodlands, in Dorsetshire, where he had a capital mansion. One of his
nearest neighbors was Anthony Cooper, afterward Earl of Shaftesbury. Two
men could not be more opposite in their dispositions and pursuits. They
seldom saw each other, and their occasional meetings were still more
disagreeable to both, from their opposite sentiments in politics. Lord
Shaftesbury, who was the younger man, was the survivor; and the
following account of Mr. Hastings, which I have somewhat abridged, is
said to have been the production of his pen. If Mr. Hastings had been
the survivor, and had lived to have seen Lord Shaftesbury one of the
infamous ministers of Charles II., he might, with interest, have
returned the compliment.
Mr. Hastings was low of stature, but strong and active; of a ruddy
complexion, with flaxen hair. His clothes were always of green cloth.
His house was of the old fashion, in the midst of a large park, well
stocked with deer, rabbits, and fish-ponds. He had a long, narrow
bowling-green in it, and used to play with round sand-bowls. Here, too,
he had a banqueting-room built, like a stand, in a large tree. He kept
all sorts of hounds that ran buck, fox, hare, otter, and badger; and had
hawks of all kinds, both long and short winged. His great hall was
commonly strewed with marrow-bones, and full of hawk-perches, hounds,
spaniels, and terriers; the upper end of it was hung with fox-skins of
this and the last year’s killing. Here and there a polecat was
intermixed, and hunters’ poles in great abundance. The parlor was a
large room, completely furnished in the same style. On a broad hearth,
paved with brick, lay some of the choicest terriers, hounds, and
spaniels. One or two of the great chairs had litters of cats in them,
which were not to be disturbed. Of these, three or four always attended
him at dinner, and a little white wand lay by his trencher to defend it
if they were too troublesome. In the windows—which were very large—lay
his arrows, cross-bows, and other accoutrements. The corners of the room
were filled with his best hunting and hawking poles. His oyster-table
stood at the lower end of the room, which was in constant use twice a
day, all the year round, for he never failed to eat oysters, both
at dinner and supper, with which the neighboring town of Pool supplied
him. At the upper end of the room stood a small table with a double
desk, one side of which held a church Bible, the other the Book of
Martyrs. On different tables in the room lay hawk’s-hoods; bells; old
hats, with their crowns thrust in, full of pheasant eggs; tables; dice;
cards; and a store of tobacco-pipes. At one end of this room was a door
which opened into a closet, where stood bottles of strong beer and wine,
which never came out but in single glasses, which was the rule of the
house; for he never exceeded himself, nor permitted others to exceed.
Answering to this closet was a door into an old chapel—which had been
long disused—for devotion: but in the pulpit, at the safest place, was
always to be found a cold shin of beef, a venison pasty, a gammon of
bacon, or a great apple-pie, with thick crust, well baked. His table
cost him not much, though it was good to eat at. His sports supplied all
but beef and mutton, except on Fridays, when he had the best of fish. He
never wanted a London pudding; and he always sang it in with “My part
lies therein—a—.” He drank a glass or two of wine at meals, put syrup of
gilliflowers into his sack, and had always a tun-glass of small beer
standing by him, which he often stirred about with rosemary. He lived to
be an hundred, and never lost his eyesight, nor used spectacles. He got
on horseback without help, and rode to the death of the stag till past
fourscore.