is thus mentioned as creditor “out of pockets, 5s. 1d.”  In 1777 however, though the vestry paid “Didums 1 badger’s head, 1 polecat’s head; Hary Bell for 2 marten cats, and spares innumerable, and the clarck warges, £1. 5s., there was £1. 3s. in hand.”  The polecats and marten cats were soon exterminated, but foxes, hedgehogs, and sparrows continue to appear, though in improved spelling, till April 24th, 1832, when this entry appears:—“At a meeting called to elect new Churchwardens, present the Rev. R. Shuckburgh, curate, and only one other person present, the meeting is adjourned.  Mr. Shuckburgh protests most strongly against the disgraceful custom of appropriating money collected for Church rates towards destroying vermin on the farms.”  And this put an end to the custom.  However, there were more rightful expenses.  Before Easter there is paid “for washan the surples” 4s.  It would seem that the Holy Communion was celebrated four times a year, and that the Elements were paid for every time at 3s. 7d.  In 1784, when there was a great improvement in spelling, there were some repairs done—“Paid for Communion cloth, 10 pence, and for washing and marking it, 6p.”  In 1786 there was a new church bell, costing £5. 5s. 10d.  Aaron Chalk, whom some of the elder inhabitants may remember, a very feeble old man walking with two sticks, was in that year one of the foremost traders in sparrow heads.  It gives a curious sense of the lapse of time to think of those tottering limbs active in bird catching.

May 2, in 1783, we find the entry “paid for the caraidge of the old

bell and the new one downe from London, 11s. 10d.  May 22—Paid William Branding bill for hanging the new bell, £1. 13s.”  Altogether, at the end of the year, it is recorded “the book in debt” £1. 11s., but “the disburstments,” as they are spelt, righted themselves in 1784, when we find “paid for musick for the use of the Church, £1. 1s.  To George Neal for whitewashing Church, £1. 1s., George Neale, two days’ work, 5s. 3d., for work in the gallery, 19s. 4d., bill for tiles, 3s. 4d.”

The only connection Otterbourne has with any historical person is not a pleasant one.  The family of Smythe, Roman Catholics, long held Brambridge, and they endowed a little Roman Catholic Chapel at Highbridge.  At one time, a number of their tenants and servants were of the same communion, and there is a note in the parish register by the curate to say that there were several families at Allbrook and Highbridge whose children he had not christened, though he believed they had been baptized by the Roman Catholic priest.  One of the daughters of the Smythe family was the beautiful Mrs. Fitz-Herbert, whom the Prince of Wales, afterwards George IV, was well known to have privately married.  He never openly avowed this, because by the law made in the time of William III, a marriage with a Roman Catholic disqualifies for the succession to the crown; besides which, under George III, members of the royal family had been prohibited from marrying without the King’s consent, and such marriages were declared null and void.  The story is mentioned here because an idea has gone abroad that the wedding took place in the chapel at Highbridge, but this is quite untrue.  The ceremony was performed at Brighton, and it is curious that the story of it having happened here only began to get afloat after the death of Mr. Newton, the last of the old servants who had known Mrs. Fitz-Herbert.  Walter Smythe, her brother, was one of the détenus whom Napoleon I kept prisoners, though only English travellers, on the rupture of the Peace of Amiens.  His brother, Charles, while taking care of the estate, had all the lime trees in the avenue pollarded, and sold the tops to make stocks for muskets.

In those days there was only a foot bridge across the Itchen at Brambridge.  Carts and carriages had to ford the river, not straight across, but making a slight curve downwards; this led to awkward accidents.  There was a gentleman dining with Mr. Walter Smythe, who was pressed to sleep at Brambridge, but declined, saying that he liked to have all his little comforts about him.  When daylight came, the poor man was found seated on the top of his chaise, the water flowing through the windows below; for the post boy had taken a wrong turn, and, being afraid to move, had been forced to remain in the river till the morning.  A far worse disaster befel the Newton family on their way to a funeral.  It is described by one of the bearers: “When the cart turned over, the corpse was on the foot bridge.  It was a very wet day, and the wind was blowing furiously at the time.  It had a great effect on the cart, as it was a narrow cart with a tilt on, and there was a long wood sill at the side of the river.  That dropping of the sill caused the accident.  I think there were five females in the cart and the driver.  The water was as much as 4ft. deep and running very sharp, so myself and others went into the water to fetch them out, and when we got to the cart they were all on the top of the other, with their heads just out of the water.  They could not go on to church with the corpse, and we had a very hard job to save the horse from being drowned, as his head was but just out of the water.”

All through the time of the long war with France there was here, as well as everywhere else around the coast, fear of a landing of the French.  The flat-bottomed boats to bring the French over were actually ready at Boulogne, and the troops mustered to come across in them.  On our side, volunteers were in training in case of need, and preparations were made for sending off the women and children inland on the first news of the enemy landing.  Not very many years ago there were still to be seen in a barn at Hursley the planks prepared to fit as seats into the waggons that were to carry them away.  And a family living here are said to have kept everything packed up, even the fireirons, and to have stirred up the fire with a stick during a

whole winter.  However, by God’s blessing and our fleets and armies, the danger was kept from our doors.

With the activity that followed upon the peace came a great deal of road-making.  The present high road between Winchester and Southampton was then made, and the way cut through the hills—Otterbourne Hill and Compton Hill on either side.  This led to the main part of the inhabitants settling in the village street, instead of round the old Church as before.  Another great road was made at the same time—that which crosses Golden Common and leads ultimately to Portsmouth.  It used to be called Cobbett’s Road, because William Cobbett, a clever, self-taught man, had much to do with laying it out.  Cobbett had a good many theories which he tried to put into practice, some sensible, others mistaken.  The principal traces we see of him now are in the trees that he planted, chiefly introduced from America.  He thought the robinia, or false acacia, would make good hedges, because of its long thorns and power of throwing up suckers, and many people planted them, but they proved too brittle to be of much use, though some are still growing.  He was a friend of Mr. Harley, who then owned Otterbourne House, and planted many curious trees there, of which two long remained—a hickory nut and a large tree in the drive.  There was also an oak with enormous