The Children of the New Forest by Captain Frederick Marryat (1847)

Finding used-book stores across Singapore was my early plan for learning about this city when we first landed. Occasionally, these stores will have bargain bins or sidewalk sales, and that’s where I found this new-to-me Wordsworth Classic that I really enjoyed reading.

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Quick Summary of The Children of the New Forest

The year is 1647, when the house of the late Colonel Beverley is intentionally burned to the ground. The Roundheads, those murderous culprits and enemies of the crown, sought vengeance against Beverley and all Cavaliers who supported King Charles I, even to the point of murdering the man’s family. Unbeknownst to them all, however, Beverley’s four children (aged 8-13) escaped and were hidden in a forest cabin by the kindly Jacob Armitage, the forest keeper.

As the story unfolds, Armitage educates the highborn children in the ways of labor and forest living, while rebels get comfortable taking over the kingdom and forest. As the months and years pass, the Beverley tragedy is forgotten by almost everyone, though Beverley’s own heroic reputation lives on in the hearts of the Cavaliers and many forced to serve England’s new illegitimate leaders.

Edward, the eldest and the one who best remembers his father and their noble reputation, grows impatient with their situation and craves revenge against the attackers who stole his home, land, father, and life. Still, he also recognizes his responsibility to lead his siblings well. Humphrey, the second son, adapts easily to forest living and proves himself a strong hand at hunting, labor and creative thinking. As he and his sisters, Alice and Edith, grow more accustomed to life in the forest, they seem more reluctant to return to their highborn living.

Through it all, the children meet new people whose loyalties are suspect, and the mystery of how the story will end continues (though with admittedly little suspense).

An Old yet Lively Story

Captain Marryat opens this book for “juvenile readers” with a meaty chapter on English history. My own interest was not immediately piqued, I’ll admit, and I wrote in my notes that my kids would not likely enjoy reading this one. But once that chunk was past, the remainder of the story progressed with plenty of action and character development, resulting in a fully entertaining read. And as 19th-century youth fiction often goes, it also has a number of life lessons to teach.

Some Teachable Passages

One life-lesson passage that jumped out at me was this exchange between Edward and Humphrey about the value of the gypsy boy, Pablo, they caught in a trap and, let’s say, “hired” to work for them.

‘I don’t think he is strong enough to do much hard work, Humphrey, although he appears very ingenious.’

‘No, I agree with you; and if he is to work, depend upon it it must not be by having work set out for him; he would take a disgust to it directly. I have another plan for him.’

‘And what is that, Humphrey?’

‘I shall not set him anything to do, and shall make him believe that I do not think he is able to do anything. That will pique him, and I think by that means I shall get more work out of him than you would think, especially when, after he has done it, I express my wonder and give him praise.’

‘Not a bad idea, that; you will work upon his pride, which is probably stronger than his laziness.’

‘I do not think him lazy, but I think him unused to hard work, and, having lived a life of wandering and idleness, not very easy to be brought to constant and daily work, except by degrees, and by the means which I propose.’ (139)

This isn’t how normal teen siblings converse today, of course, but the lessons about industry and laziness are well taught through dialogue like this. It’s preachy without being too preachy.

Two other lines I highlighted and saved were these:

Depend upon it, you are most happy when your days pass quickest, and that is only the case when you have plenty to do. … We want very few things in this world—that is, we really want very few things, although we wish and sigh for many. (Jacob Armitage, 59)

There is a great difference between the world such as we fancy it when we are pining for it, and the world when we actually are placed within the vortex, and perceive the secret springs of men’s actions. (Edward, 258)

Reminiscent of Other 19th-Century Tales

I love survival stories, and I would say this sort of falls into that camp, though not in the traditional sense. The children do need to learn how to survive and thrive while on their own in the woods, but they also have access to so many resources whenever needed. It’s a story of growth and survival in the Robinson Crusoe (1719) sense, where the threat is less about access to stores and tools and more about the wisdom to know how to use them well.

The plight of the children also reminded me of The Swiss Family Robinson (1812), though I’d call it a believable version of that wildly fantastic “survival” story. These children have the same tenacity as the Robinsons, and the forest has its plenty. The danger and the historical setting, however, are both far more real and plausible in The Children of the New Forest, making this a much better read than Robinson.

At one point in my notes, I wrote out this recipe that makes up The Children of the New Forest:

• One part Swiss Family Robinson
• One part King Arthur
• One part Danny the Champion of the World

I still hold to that.

Conclusion

While 19th-century fiction isn’t my normal fare, I truly enjoyed this novel. It’s so much better than the other classics that get all the press, like Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov (1880), but maybe that’s only because I’m still a juvenile at heart.

Whatever the case may be, if you’re in the mood for some old British literature, The Children of the New Forest would be a fine place to start.

©2026 E.T.

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