The White Hart 

by Nigel Aves (copyright July 2003/ 2004) 

The sun slowly peaked above the hills to the east to spread it's early light upon the Hamlet of Ringwood. A sleepy little town nestled in the depths of the New Forest. Ringwood had a history of it's own but this was hidden in the depths of time. Some people still called it by its old English name of Rimicwude (Rim of the Forest) but that dated from 955 so most had now swapped over to its new name. It was on the main road from London to the western counties of Dorset, Somerset and Cornwall. Ringwood was well known as a stopping place for weary travelers and offered a number of fine hostelries to rest and eat at. The other thing that made Ringwood one of the main stopping points was that here was one of the few places where the River Avon could be crossed safely most of the year. Though the winter floods did have a tendency to wash out the wooden bridge. When that happened coach travelers had to make a days detour up to Fordingbridge.

Jenny opened her window to allow the fresh air to come into her room and in the distance she could hear the mills hard at work, powered by the fuels collected daily in the forest and the power of flowing river. Jenny had always been interested in the history of her hometown and had once talked to the Earl of Salisbury about it. A very knowledgeable man and one whom when he had drunk a little more than one should had a habit of forgetting his Earldom and actually becoming a little human to the common folks. He had talked to her one dark and gloomy January night in front of a blazing log fire and had mentioned that he had looked up Ringwood in the Doomsday book of 1086 and found that Ringwood by that time had a church and a mill. Jenny was sure that the Earl was considering a little 'rogering' with her but had fallen asleep after one mug of mead to many.

It was a Wednesday and already the market stalls where being set up to show of their wares. She knew that it was the charter of 1226 from Henry III that had allowed Ringwood to grow from a struggling hamlet into such a prosperous town by granting it the right to become a market town. In the distance she could hear the whinnying of the forest ponies being shepherded into their corals for the sales.

Looking at the position of the sun she knew that it was still very early in the morning and there would be time for her to slip out and take a walk before her working day began. Slipping on her work clothes and her shoes, that where in terrible need of replacement she left the inn. Walking quickly up the street towards the church she knew that she had time to take a quick bath in the river and get back to the inn. She knew of a nice secluded spot that very few people in the town knew of. Shielded by a copse of trees she quickly undressed and slipped into the waters of the Avon. Jenny loved the feelings as the cool water washed over her naked skin and through her matted hair. She always made sure that no one was coming to the copse because she did not want to be caught but she knew that the chances of someone else bathing in the River where quite remote. She giggled to herself as some riverweed tickled her on her thigh and left the river. Her body shimmered golden in the sunlight but she quickly dressed again to make the journey back to the inn and another hard days work.

As Jenny re-entered the outskirts of Ringwood and by the church the town crier rushed over to her. 'Hello Tom' she said. 'Jenny, I've just heard that the King is in the Forest hunting and there is a chance that he might come here. As you have the only inn in town I thought that you should know'. Jenny was shocked that King Henry might be visiting their sleepy little hamlet and rushed back to the inn to make preparations just in case.

It was one of those days that she would like to forget, as soon as she re-entered the inn she called her staff together to let them know that today they must clean and shine like they never had before. They all groaned collectively because a market Wednesday was always their busiest time to the week. Jenny still missed her husband on days like this; he was an honest man but was taken from her at the Battle of Bosworth Field, so far away from their home. But King Richard needed to defeat the House of Lancaster by any means possible and that was where he was killed as well. It had been a hard 12 years but she now enjoyed the freedom that owning her public house had given her.

The day progressed with a steady stream of customers ordering food and drink. The new brewery in town was producing excellent beer, so many of her customers left with a slight stumble to their step. Jenny worked hard all day and was pleased. This was turning into a profitable day and she hoped nothing would go wrong to spoil it.

The sun sank into the lands of the west, Cornwall and Somerset, and slowly the market started to unwind and the peddlers of goods lined up in the main square to pay their taxes to the Lord of the Manor. They all looked happy so it must have been a good day for all. Jenny decided it was time to stretch her legs so ambled outside. As she walked she thought that she could hear the sounds of a hunting horn, blaring through the twilight. It seemed to becoming from the area known as 'the castle', not because of a real castle but an outcrop of rock that gave the appearance. She shook her head and started walking back to prepare for the evening guests and then she heard it again, the toot-toot of the horn.

On re-entering she quickly looked around to make sure that everything was in order for the evening. She went back to her room to change her clothes and to take a very short nap. As she settled into her chair to take the well-earned breather she shut her eyes and slowly drifted to sleep. She awoke with a start as she heard the commotion that had erupted below her. Jumping up and checking herself in her prized possession of the mirror she rushed down stairs to see what had happened. The sight that met her eyes stunned her. The entire downstairs was filled with people ordering beer and mead as if they had not drunk in weeks. A slight gap opened in the crowed and she nearly fainted by the sight. Standing at the back of the room was a magnificent White Stage, shaking it's head in all the confusion of the room and standing next to the stage was, no it could not be, but it was, King Henry (VIII) himself. Jenny had to take a deep breath and then she noticed standing alone, was a tall figure dressed in the finery of royalty. She approached him hesitantly and introduced herself. He studied her intensely, his eyes boring into her and introduced himself. 'I am the King's Lord Chancellor, you have a fine hostel here. The Kings hunting party has been riding all day and we are in need to food and drink. You will keep a list of what we have from you and then you will give that list to me and I will pay you for your efforts'. Jenny quickly curtsied to The Chancellor, one false move by her or her staff, one thing to upset these Royal visitors and she could feel the axe removing her head from the rest of her body.

The king jumped to his feet and let out an almighty burp. 'What a day we have had!' he yells. 'Today we chased this magnificent White Hart, what a day he gave us, he dragged us all the way from Swayling to Ringwood! If had not been for that blasted River we would still be going, probably in Devonshire by now!', the silent crowd laughed and as the King raised his jug the rest followed. The King looked at the Hart and lifting his jug took a might swallow. His entourage followed suite. Staggering a little he continued 'I hereby decree, that in honor of the sport this creature gave us, this White Hart will live out its days in Windsor Forest, protected by the crown. Around it's neck a golden necklace and death to any man that should harm this creature!' Looking around he collapsed back into his chair. The room started to relax but once again he jumped up, 'and further more ' he bellowed ' I also decree that in honor of this White Hart this hostel shall from this day forth be known as 'The White Hart'. Once again the most powerful man in the world, outside the Pope, raised his jug, took to gulping his mead as quickly as his gullet would allow it and then collapsed into his chair. He let out a never-ending fart, laughed and fell sound asleep.

The kings followers fell into a gloomy silence, they dare not wake the King but wanted to party on. A tall nobleman approached Jenny and asked her 'dear lady, we shall need to be going back to camp as I know your accommodations will not take us all. I'm sure the Lord Chancellor will stay. Could you fill my water sack with mead for the journey'. 'Certainly Sir' Jenny replied and curtseying quickly she went to one of the Wooden Tonns and filled the empty leather water sack to the brim with the clear nectar of mead. Very soon she was doing a brisk business in mead and the water sacks of many where soon filled to the brim.

One by one the entourage left until the only people left in the room where Jenny, The Lord Chancellor and a snoring King Henry. Fred the ostler appeared after servicing the last coach to arrive from London. 'Fred', Jenny said 'Please take the White Hart outside to the stables and feed it well, it must be looked after as you do your best horse'.

The Lord Chancellor approached Jenny and said 'Young Lass you have done well, here take this for your troubles.' He threw a small leather pouch onto the bar and Jenny could tell by the heavy thunk it made that this was filled with golden coins. Not wanting to seem rude she picked up the bag and slipped it into a pocket of her dress. 'Thank you kind sir, you are very gracious'. 'hummm', he responded 'your not going to check what I have given you'. 'Dear Sir' Jenny stumbled 'A man of your breeding would never cheat a working lass like myself.' . He laughed out loud. 'Please show me to a room for the night'.' But what about the King'' asked Jenny. 'He will be fine where he is, a hangover no doubt but fine. I'll post a guard at the door'.

After all the excitement of the evening Jenny felt like she was ready to sleep forever. She entered her room and sat upon the bed. Hesitantly she opens the leather pouch and 10 golden crowns fell upon her dress. She could not believe her eyes; this was more money than she even dreamed of. Tomorrow she would be able to give all her staff a well-deserved stipend. Standing she takes the money and hides it behind her prized mirror.

She quickly undresses and slips into bed.

Just before daylight she is awakened by the creaking sound of her door opening. 'Oh No' she thinks, 'someone is here to steal my money'. The door creaks open and then she sees the outline of King Henry himself, standing there peering into the room. He walks to her bed and looks down at her prone figure; she is too scared to move. He undresses and gets into bed next to her. To alarmed too say a thing Jenny lays there, the King has his way with her. 

The months slowly pass and soon the incident of the White Hart is forgotten. Forgotten by all except Jenny because she can feel the swelling in her stomach and knew that she was pregnant. She was more than a little scared, she knew who the father was. She also knew that no one must ever know her secret, for that secret exposed would be the death of her and the death of her child. 7 months passed, 8 months passed.

She was sitting gloomily next to the fire when a figure walked in, a hooded cloak covering the head. The stranger walked up to fire and at down. The hood was tossed off the head revealing a stock of hair. Jenny gasped. This was no stranger this was her sister. 'Oh my' Jenny sighed, tears welling up and filling her eyes. Never before was she so glad to see someone. 'I did not know that my letter had reached you, thank you, thank you for coming to me'. Terri sat still, looking at her sister; she quickly looked around to make sure that no one was within ear shoot. 'Look Jenny, no one must know about me. I'll be staying at the Inn until you give birth but under no account must it seem that we know each other. I'll come to you late at night so we can talk'. Jenny sat there, stifling a tear and a small smile upon her face. Terri stood and walked away.

The days blended into each other and soon that day that cannot be forgotten came. Jenny felt the stirring in her as the first contraction started. She hurried upstairs to prepare herself. The contractions came and went and then as if by a pillow of wind from God she knew when it was time to try and push the baby out. The birth was long and hard, but she survived. A baby boy was born. As the sun slowly came up a figure entered the room. No words where spoken, no words where needed. Picking up the newborn the ghostly figure carefully wrapped it with cloth. Jenny and Terri looked at each other, tears in their eyes. Then Terri left, walked from the room with the baby cuddled in her arms and never looking back.

One week passed, during the week her friends questioned her about the birth but she just shrugged her shoulders and said nothing. She looked so week and frail that no one asked her more. As she was working she suddenly heard a voice that she knew she recognized. Turning around she was surprised to see the Lord Chancellor once again standing in the bar of the White Hart. 'Hello Jenny', 'How are you' I would like a room for the night, I am passing through on my way to Somerset'. 'Certainly Sir' Jenny replied and quickly went upstairs to make sure that the best room was ready and clean.

That evening the Lord Chancellor was sitting in the chair that was occupied only 9 months ago by King. He was looking at Jenny with a piercing look but never said a word to her or any of the other revelers in the hostel that night. Before Jenny knew it he had risen and gone to his room. 'Strange man' she thought. The day ended as all other days and tired she went upstairs to bed. She soon drifted into sleep but like that night 9 months ago she was awakened by her door slowly opening. 'Oh no, not again' she thought. She could see who it was by his outline and the Lord Chancellor walked it into the room.

He knelt beside her. 'Jenny' he said 'I have to ask, I have heard that you gave birth to a child a week ago, but no one has seen the child or heard the child. Jenny, where is it, you must tell me'. Jenny lay looking into the dark eyes. 'Sir, it was still born and I took it to the forest and buried it.'. he studied her for a moment then said 'Jenny, I hope that you are not lying to me, that would be the worst thing you could do, but for now I will believe you.'. Jenny breathed a gentle sigh of relief and hardly felt the cold steal blade slip between the ribs and deep into her heart. She never heard his final words to her 'Jenny, I'm sorry but I can not chance the fact that you might talk of that night'. He quickly cleaned his knife and left her room.

And 320 miles to the north a baby that could have been king will never be king, the only surviving male child of Henry VIII that grew to an adult would spend his days as groom to the Earl of Yorkshire never knowing his royal heritage.



Authors Note : - 

And that my friends is why Ringwood has the only public house / hotel in all of the UK called 'The Original White Hart', why all public houses called 'The White Hart' show the beast with a golden necklace (see below why the gold necklace) and why visitors to 'The Original White Hart' sometimes see an apparition walking down the hall to the stairs; holding a candle. It is unknown what the name of the hostel was before this. For this reason I have not used a name. 

The actual origins of Ringwood are unknown but from recently discovered documents it is believed that Ringwood has been at it's crook of the River Avon since at least 955AD. The original name of Ringwood was Rimicwude, which translates to Rim of the Forest (wood). Milling seemed to be the main occupation of the early Ringwood inhabitants as there is mention in the Doomsday book of 1086 that the town had a church and a mill. The town grew slowly until 1226 when King Henry III granted the rights to the Lord of the Manor to allow a market to take place every Wednesday. Even though markets did take place it was not until 1553 that King Edward VI confirmed those rights. (And you thought that government to day drags its feet!) 

The overall concept of this story is all based on fact, Henry VIII did have the hunt, the chase, the capture of the White Hart (trapped by the River Avon) at Ringwood and the Hart did live out it's days in Windsor Forest (now called Windsor Great Park) with a golden necklace. (The necklace was to ensure that it 'was shown to be protected by the Throne' so that poachers did not kill it or accidentally when hunting.) It is unknown if it was actually Henry VIII who declared the name be changed to the White Hart but there is a very good chance that it was. It is known that after the hunting trip the name of the public house was changed. (Anyway, I worked there and like to think that on some nights I was having a pint with the 'old sod' (now in fairness there where some evenings when I thought that I was drinking with Alice Isle and after one Whiskey to many without her head!). 

If you go to Ringwood today you will still find the market in full operation every Wednesday and just behind the church the New Forest Pony sales. I'm also pretty convinced that one of the marketers used to drink with Jenny, but that's another story! 

In closing. The Original White Hart is haunted, but not by Jenny. It's believed to be a 17th century serving girl and has been seen by the many of the staff (me included) and by many of the hotel patrons. Sightings are normally in the morning before the bar opens, just in case you're wondering.

Henry VIII (1509-47 AD)
 
Henry VIII, born in 1491, was the second son of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York. The significance of Henry's reign is, at times, overshadowed by his six marriages: dispensing with these forthwith enables a deeper search into the major themes of the reign. He married Catherine of Aragon (widow of his brother, Arthur) in 1509, divorcing her in 1533; the union produced one daughter, Mary. Henry married the pregnant Anne Boleyn in 1533; she gave him another daughter, Elizabeth, but was executed for infidelity (a treasonous charge in the king's consort) in May 1536. He married Jane Seymour by the end of the same month, who died giving birth to Henry's lone male heir, Edward, in October 1536. Early in 1540, Henry arranged a marriage with Anne of Cleves, after viewing Hans Holbein's beautiful portrait of the German princess. In person, alas, Henry found her homely and the marriage was never consummated. In July 1540, he married the adulterous Catherine Howard - she was executed for infidelity in March 1542. Catherine Parr became his wife in 1543, providing for the needs of both Henry and his children until his death in 1547.