One of the first of my antiquarian rambles was on
horseback, in company with Colonel Wildman and his lady, who undertook
to guide me to Borne of the moldering monuments of the forest. One of
these stands in front of the very gate of Newstead Park, and is known
throughout the country by the name of "The Pilgrim Oak." It is a
venerable tree, of great size, overshadowing a wide arena of the road.
Under its shade the rustics of the neighborhood have been accustomed to
assemble on certain holidays, and celebrate their rural festivals. This
custom had been handed down from father to son for several generations,
until the oak had acquired a kind of sacred character.
The "old Lord Byron," however, in whose eyes nothing was sacred, when
he laid his desolating hand on the groves and forests of Newstead,
doomed likewise this traditional tree to the axe. Fortunately the good
people of Nottingham heard of the danger of their favorite oak, and
hastened to ransom it from destruction. They afterward made a present
of it to the poet, when he came to the estate, and the Pilgrim Oak is
likely to continue a rural gathering place for many coming generations.
From this magnificent and time-honored tree we continued on our sylvan
research, in quest of another oak, of more ancient date and less
flourishing condition.
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