Bradgate Park
Gnarled oaks, herds of deer and friendly vibes
Gnarled oaks, herds of deer and friendly vibes
The ruins of Bradgate Hall are close by. The place was set on fire, tradition says, by a former countess, who found the country dull, and wished to return to more animated scenes.
Overshadowed by grand old trees, and by memories that are grander and lovelier still - memories of the Lady Jane whose noble life among these hills and woods came to untimely ruin - the broken towers have a wonderous charm about them, of beauty, and sadness, and solitude.
[Bradgate Park] is one of those select spots, still left in England, which can boast that never in its history has a ploughshare been known to pass over its surface. Far back in the distant prehistoric ages, the researches of science tell us, the country for miles around was the scene of continued volcanic eruptions, which accounts for the immense quantity of granite crags scattered over the face of the ground. Besides, therefore, affording study for the historian, the geologist has here a rare field in which to labour. The huge boulders have seemingly been thrown about haphazard by mighty giants at play, and in some places bald patches of sunken rocks are visible, which at present the grass refuses to hide. From this it will be easily seen that the surface of the ground, by the strange peculiarity of its wild beauty, cannot fail to command the interest of even the most casual observer.