out alteration, in the hope that he might return from Greece and
revisit the halls of his fathers. Had Fate so willed, he would have
found how kindly and faithfully his early friend had associated him with
Newstead, and preserved every memorial of past history connected with
the place. Yet thoughts of bitterness would even then have mingled with
these familiar scenes, for it was not the heir of the Byrons who had
restored Newstead Abbey to beauty and order.

Quitting the Abbey, and passing into the gardens, we followed the
gardener through the deepening gloom to the wood, where, in former days,
an ancestor of the Byrons set up leaden statues of satyrs, which the
country-people called "the old lord's devils"; and very much like demons
they looked. The tree was pointed out upon which Byron cut the names of
"Augusta" and "Byron," with the date, during a last walk the brother and
sister took together at Newstead. It is a double tree, springing from
one root, which he chose as emblematical of themselves. The dim light
barely enabled us to discern letters deeply carved, but growing less
visible with the expanding bark. One of the trees has withered under
that spell which seems to have blasted all connected with the name, and
is cut off just above the inscription. The oak planted by Byron in his
youth in a different part of the grounds was also shown to us. It is yet
strong and vigorous. We picked up a yellow leaf, which the wind bore to
our feet, as a fitting memorial of the place and the hour.

Passing again through the old Abbey church, the chill of the evening met
us, cold and damp,--fit atmosphere for the place. The rooks were all
asleep in their high nests; silence, darkness, and mist were fast
casting their mantle over old Newstead; and the only cheerful sign came
from the distant window of the Colonel's library, whence shot out a
generous gleam of household fire,--emblem of that warm heart which had
shed light upon the once desolate abode of its early friend.

Since our visit to Newstead, (seven years ago,) the Abbey has passed
into other hands, and even a royal owner is now reported to possess the
poet's ancestral home. We shall ever deem ourselves fortunate that our
destiny led us to make this pilgrimage during the lifetime of Colonel
Wildman and while the place was under his enlightened and generous
ownership.

A few miles from Newstead Abbey is Hucknall, a poor, desolate-looking
village, at the end of whose stre