The occupiers of land within the liberty have long been accustomed to compound for the toll by an annual payment of one shilling. The toll has sometimes been refused, but has always been recovered with the attendant expenses. It realised about 20_l._ a year before the opening of the Buckinghamshire Railway; but now, owing to Welsh and Irish cattle being sent by trains, it does not amount to above 4_l._, and is let by the present lord of the manor for only 1_l._ 5_s._ a year. The existence of this toll may be traced to remote antiquity, but nothing is known of its origin except from local tradition, which, however, in this case has been so remarkably confirmed, that it may safely be credited. The parish of Chetwode, as its name implies, was formerly thickly wooded; indeed it formed a part of an ancient forest called Rookwoode, which is supposed to have been conterminous with the present liberty of Chetwode. At a very early period, says our tradition, this forest was infested with an enormous wild boar which became the terror of the surrounding country. The inhabitants were never safe from his attacks, and strangers who heard of his ferocity were afraid to visit or pass through the district, so that traffic and friendly intercourse were seriously impeded, as well us much injury done to property by this savage monster. The lord of Chetwode, like a valiant knight, determined to rid his neighbourhood from this pest, or to die in the attempt. Bent on this generous purpose, he sallied forth into the forest, and, as the old song has it,-- “Then he blowed a blast full north, south, east, and west-- Wind well thy horn, good hunter; And the wild boar then heard him full in his den, As he was a jovial hunter. Then he made the best of his speed unto him-- Wind well thy horn, good hunter; Swift flew the boar, with his tusks smeared with gore, To Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter. Then the wild boar, being so stout and so strong-- Wind well thy horn, good hunter; Thrashed down the trees as he ramped him along To Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter. Then they fought four hours in a long summer day-- Wind well thy horn, good hunter; Till the wild boar fain would have got him away From Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter. Then Sir Ryalas he drawed his broad-sword with might-- Wind well thy horn, good hunter; And he fairly cut the boar’s head off quite, For he was a jovial hunter.”