Six miles north-east of Birmingham, and one from Castle Bromwich chapel,
is a spacious moat, with one trench, which, for many centuries guarded
_Park-hall_. This is another of those desolate islands, from which every
creature is fled, and every sound, except that of the winds; nay, even
the very clouds seem to lament the desolation with tears.
This was possessed by none but the Ardens, being part of their vast
estate long before the conquest, and five hundred years after. A
delightful situation on the banks of the Tame; to which we are led
through a dirty road.
We may consider this island, the treasury into which forty-six lordships
paid their tribute. The riches of the country were drawn to this center,
and commands were issued from it. The growth of these manors supplied
that spot, which now grows for another. The lordships are in forty-six
hands; the country is in silence; the island ploughed up, and the family
distressed--At the remembrance of their name, the smile quits the face
of history; she records their sad tale with a sigh; while their arms
are yet displayed in some of the old halls in the neighbourhood.