The south aisle is the oldest part, with its three Norman arches rising from square piers, whilst the north aisle is divided from the nave by a row of Early-English arches springing from plain black Purbeck marble shafts. In the east window of this aisle were once painted the arms of the Dauphin of France—the fleurs de lis—blazoned, as they were formerly, over the whole field, telling us the story of Lewis having been invited to England and crowned king by John’s barons, and whose traditional flight at Leap has been mentioned. Down below, in the valley of the Brockenhurst Water, lies Boldre, the Bovre of _Domesday_, with its meadows and cornfields. It is worth while to pause for a moment, and notice the corruption of Boldre into Bovre by the Norman clerks. The word is from the Keltic, and signifies the full stream (“_y Byldwr_”), and has nothing to do with oxen. We must, too, bear in mind that the various Oxenfords and Oxfords are themselves corruptions, and really come not from oxen at all, but Usk, literally meaning the stream-ford or stream-road, and are in no way connected with the various Old-English Rodfords to be found in different parts of the kingdom. This corruption of language we see daily going on in our own Colonies, but it is well to pause and remember that the same process has taken place in our own country. Passing over the bridge, and up the village, and under the railway arch, we once more reach the Forest at Shirley Holms, coming out on Shirley and Sway Commons. Here again, as on Beaulieu Heath, there is not a single tree, nothing but one vast stretch of heather, which late in the summer covers the ground with its crimson and amethyst. There is only one fault to be found with it, that when its glory is past it leaves so great a blank behind: its grey withered flowers and its grey scanty foliage forming such a contrast with its previous brightness and cheerfulness. But these two commons will at all times be interesting to the archæologist and historian. On the north-east side lies the Roydon, that is, the rough ground, a word which we find in other parts of the Forest; and not far from it is Lichmore or Latchmore Pond—the place of corpses—which is confirmed by the various adjoining barrows.[106] After this point, there is nothing to attract the traveller, unless he is a botanist, to the south. Wootton, and Wilverley, and Setthorns, and Holmsley, are all young plantations, whilst at Wootton the Forest now entirely ceases, though once stretching five miles farther, as far as the sea. So let him make his way to Longslade, or Hinchelsea Bottom, as it is indifferently called, where about the middle of June blossoms the lesser bladderwort (_Utricularia minor_), and about the same time, or rather later, the floating bur-reed (_Sparganeum natans_).