HISTORY OF STAFFORDSHIRE. 55 



which is generally a red, or whitish-grey marly loam, will produce 

 excellent pasturage, or be productive of good beans. 



In the northern extremity of the forest is a singularly romantic 

 valley, called Bertram's Dingle, which, if private property, might 

 be made uncommonly beautiful. Besides the natural beauties of 

 Needwod Forest, it is adorned with four handsome lodges, which 

 have for ages been held under the Crown on a lease of three lives, 

 and transferred from time to time to different owners. 



Byrkley Lodge is situated on an extensive plain on the east side 

 of the forest, and is^ surrounded with a beautiful variety of wood. 

 It is the residence of Edward Sneyd, Esq. who has made many 

 improvements. A stream, called Linbrook, rises here, and runs 

 southward. 



Yoxall Lodge is the residence of a poet and divine, the Rev. 

 Thomas Gisborne. It is built in a delightful situation, in a recluse 

 valley on the banks of Linbrook, and is well adapted to the studious 

 pursuits of the owner. 



Sherholt Park and Lodge, in Barton ward, is the property of Lord 

 Vernon. The views towards Lichfield, &c. are extensive and pic- 

 turesque ; and near this mansion a rivulet runs into a fine sheet of 

 water, called Lush Pool. 



Ealand Lodge is situated on the north-west side of the forest, and 

 is surrounded by woods and lawns. It is the property of Lord 

 Bagot, and was formerly the residence of Francis Noel Clarke 

 Mundy, author of " Needwood Forest," a poem. The poet thus de- 

 scribes his favourite retreat : 



" On this green unambitious brow, 

 Fair mistress of the vale below, 

 With sloping hills enclos'd around, 

 Their heads with oaks and hollies crowu'd. 

 With lucky choice, by happy hands, 

 Plac'd in good hour my dwelling stands ; 

 And draws the distant trav'ler's eye, 

 Enatnour'd of its scenery ; 

 Where all things give, what all expres*, 

 Content and rural happiness. 

 Where far retir'd From life's dull form 

 Comes no intruder but the storm ; 

 The storm, that with contrasted low'r 

 Endears the fair, the silent hour. 

 Thus their wise days our fathers led, 

 Fleet ran their hounds, their arrows sped, 

 And jocund health with rosy smile 

 Look'd on, companion of their toil ; 



