After passing the branch railway, and about half a mile short of
Lymington, is a fine circular prehistoric entrenchment called Buckland
Rings. The road now drops to the one-time parliamentary borough and
ancient port of Lymington, now only known to the majority as the point
of departure by the "short sea route" to the Isle of Wight, and those
who make the passage when the tide is out do not usually regret the
shortness of their stay on this particular bit of coast. But their
self-congratulation is wasted, Lymington itself is a very pleasant and
clean town, even if its shore is a dreary stretch of salt marsh, grey
and depressing on the sunniest day. There are some fine old houses in
the picturesque High Street, though none of them remember the day in
1154 when Henry II landed on the way to his coronation. The much
restored church will be best appreciated for the picture it makes from
the other end of High Street.

Though a fashionable resort in those days when any seaside town was a
possible future Brighton, Lymington is never likely to become crowded
with visitors again, but artists find many good studies on the river
and in the town and even on the "soppy" flats themselves, and there are
salt baths at high tide for those unconventional holiday-makers who
favour the place.

To resume the main route through the forest from Lyndhurst the western
road must be taken. It presently turns sharply towards the south and
penetrates the fastnesses of the woods lining the Highland Water. Here
we find the celebrated Knightwood Oak and the grand beeches of Mark
Ash, nearly two miles away in the depths to the right, but worth the
trouble of finding. In less than six miles from Lyndhurst the traveller
reaches the cross-roads at Wilverley Post on the top of Markway Hill,
and in another long mile Holmsley station on the Brokenhurst-Ringwood