The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [359]
‘The smallholders and tenants in the Forest, Colonel, are not a very settled population are they? I mean to say, you could hardly call them solid farmers or yeomen, could you?’
He might have guessed that was coming. Sooner or later, whenever you talked to outsiders, it always did. The landed classes have always had clear views about peasants. Good peasants lived on open lands and touched their forelock to you. Once you got into hilly country, watch out. And as for the dark forest, outlaws lived there; poachers; charcoal burners and tinkers. Who knew what sort of people these New Forest commoners descended from? Should the legitimate interests of the Crown really be held up for a population of shiftless vagabonds?
And now Albion smiled. ‘I suggest that Your Lordship judge for yourself,’ he replied amiably. ‘For the next person you are to interview is one of them. My tenant, Mr Pride.’
Outwardly the Colonel smiled; inwardly he said a prayer. Now he’d find out if he’d been right to take the risk. Just so long as he didn’t become abusive and weaken their case. God knows he’d spoken to him about it frankly enough, and Pride had promised to be circumspect.
The other problem was young George, Pride’s son.
Personally, Albion didn’t blame George Pride for taking a job with the Office of Woods. Others had done the same. A job was a job. George had a young family to think of. But Pride senior had felt otherwise. There had been a furious row. He’d vowed never to forgive him; and since George had started working for Cumberbatch, his father had not spoken to him. Family loyalty was close in the Forest and this rupture was a sad and serious matter.
Whether Cumberbatch understood all this was another issue. As far as the Deputy Surveyor was concerned, the father of one of his employees was coming to testify against him, and he wouldn’t be best pleased. He couldn’t actually dismiss George because of it, but the young man would be under suspicion. Albion was sorry about that but if necessary, he had decided, he must sacrifice George Pride to the greater good. If Pride senior kept his head he was a powerful witness.
Would he?
They looked at Pride with interest as he stood, and was then gently induced to sit down before them. He sat bolt upright. Even the young peer couldn’t help noticing that Mr Pride looked very respectable. The Chairman addressed him kindly. ‘Whereabouts do you live?’
‘At Oakley.’
‘How long have you lived there?’
‘Always.’
‘Always?’ The Chairman smiled. ‘You cannot always have been there, Mr Pride, but I take it you mean all your life?’
‘I meant my family was always there, Your Lordship. I mean,’ he frowned, ‘not always, but before King William.’
‘You mean King William IV, before our present queen, or King William III, perhaps?’
‘No, Sir. I meant King William the Conqueror, that made the Forest.’
The Chairman looked somewhat astonished, glanced at Colonel Albion, who smiled and nodded.
‘You have a smallholding of how many acres?’
‘It was eight. Now I have twelve. The eight rented are off the Colonel, the four I bought freehold.’
‘You have a family?’
‘Twelve children, Sir. Praise God.’
‘You can support a family of twelve on these few acres?’
‘In the Forest, Sir, we usually reckon twelve acres a good size. It can be worked without the expense of hiring extra hands. I make a profit, depending on the year, of forty or fifty pounds.’ This was no fortune, but a decent living for a small farmer.
‘How do you go about it?’
‘The greatest part of my holding is pasture, on which I make hay. Then I have a strip where I grow cabbages, vegetables, roots …’
‘Turnips?’
‘Yes. Also oats.’
‘What livestock have you?’
‘I have five milking cows, two heifers, two yearlings. The milk and butter we sell at Lymington. As to pigs, I keep three brood sows. They produce two or three times a year. Then we have several ponies. The brood mares are run all year upon the Forest.’
‘The New Forest cow,