The wanderings of a pen and pencil . r on foot, and twowood-wai-ds, and so on, for the limitation of boundaries and the preservationof law. The chief keeper was bound to have a page bearing his bow, whoseduty it was to collect chiminage (or the tolls). Little remains of thesekeepings but Berkland and Bilhagh. We passed through the Berkland. Itis a noble relict of the old forest. The new generation of trees stand fairlyin due order to the sight; but like neglected parents, the struggling old oaksassert their venerable claims, and in romantic grouping attract the bestremembrances and feelings of
The wanderings of a pen and pencil . r on foot, and twowood-wai-ds, and so on, for the limitation of boundaries and the preservationof law. The chief keeper was bound to have a page bearing his bow, whoseduty it was to collect chiminage (or the tolls). Little remains of thesekeepings but Berkland and Bilhagh. We passed through the Berkland. Itis a noble relict of the old forest. The new generation of trees stand fairlyin due order to the sight; but like neglected parents, the struggling old oaksassert their venerable claims, and in romantic grouping attract the bestremembrances and feelings of the summer wanderer. Here, says a pleasantanchor, who is a forester of Sherwood, he who loves the awful, as well asthe beautiful, may gratify his feelings in every gradation from one to theother, or even in the blending of both at once. Ferns in endless profusionform a ground-work, as far as the eye can pierce through the light openings,where young birches shake their sunlit locks, as in a wild and happy dance, SHERWOOD FOREST. 355. The Berklands. around which, in natural yet almost regular circles, other birches, of matronlygrace and growth, bend their silvery forms, and pensively smile, in remem-brance of their own bright days of youthful frolic, here revived before them ;while huge conservative oaks, of different ages, and in all attitudes, from thewildly fantastic to the majestic and terrible, contemplate the orgie fromvarious distances, as though it were a contemptible intrusion upon their ownancient prerogative of awful tranquillity. And who can forget, who admiresthe sterling description of William Howitt, those words of his which por-tray the Bilhagh of Old Sherwood Forest? A thousand years, ten thousandtempests, lightnings, winds, and wintry violence have all flung their utmostforce on these trees; and there they stand, trunk after trunk, scathed, hollow,grey, gnarled, stretching out their bare sturdy arms, or their mingled foliage,and ruin — a life in death. All is
Size: 1738px × 1438px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bo, bookauthorcrowquillalfredill, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840
