Close to his grave is a brick tomb, with an inscription to the memory of his sister, Mrs. Sarah Killick, who died the 22d of August, 1782, in the 93d year of her age. A woman remarkable for the beauty of her person, sweetness of disposition, and the share of health she also enjoyed through life. Till her death she could play at cards, and read and work, without spectacles.
Having thus briefly introduced to the reader, an outline of the character of Mr. Daniel Day, who in the latter part of his life was called “Old Daniel Day,” we will proceed to say a few words of his favourite Oak.—This venerable and stupendous tree stood in Hainault Forest, about 10 miles from London, 3 from Ilford, and 2 from the village of Chigwell, in Essex. The trunk, or main stem, of this giant of the forest measured, about a yard from the ground, 36 feet in circumference! From this issued 11 vast arms, each of the dimensions of a tree of moderate growth. In the meridian of the day, about 60 years ago, it is said that its shadow extended over nearly an acre of ground! This tree was, about the year 1800, fenced round with a close paling, above five feet high, almost all the extremities of its branches sawed off, and Mr. Forsyth’s composition applied to them, to preserve them from decay; and the injury which the trunk of the tree had sustained from the lighting of fires in the cavities, was repaired, as much as possible, by the same composition. At the same time, on one of the branches, was fixed a board, with this inscription: “All good Foresters are requested not to hurt this old Tree, a plaster having been lately applied to its wounds.” The rabble, however, regardless of the respect due to the veteran of the Forest, soon broke down the paling, lighted fires within the trunk, as heretofore, and in consequence, before long, several of the limbs were broken quite off.
On the 25th of June, 1805, this famous Oak was discovered to be on fire, occasioned by a party of sixty persons, who came from London in several carriages during the morning, and amused themselves through the day with playing at cricket and other sports; they had kindled a fire, which had spread very considerably after they left the spot, but it was not discovered for two hours. A number of persons came with water to extinguish the flames, which was not effected until the main branch on the south side, with part of the body, was consumed.
The high winds of February 1820, however, stretched its massy trunk and limbs on that turf which it had for so many ages overshadowed with its verdant foliage; and thus it exhibited a melancholy memento of the irresistable power of time in bringing to an end not only the flower of a season, but also the towering growth of many ages.
The remains of the Fairlop Oak were purchased by Mr. Seabrooke, the builder of St. Pancras Church, and both the magnificent pulpits of that church were formed out of it, and they are certainly the most beautiful of their kind to be met with.
Our friend Mr. Day—for the friend of mankind never dies—had a small estate, whether hereditary, or a purchase, we do not know, near the Fairlop Oak, and thither he annually resorted, about a fortnight after Midsummer, to receive his rents; the congeniality of his temper would not suffer him to receive the good things of this world alone, and it was his custom to invite a few of his neighbours to accompany him, and there he would treat them with a repast of beans and bacon, &c. under the canopy of the Oak, the accomodations being provided from an adjacent small public-house, the Maypole. Mr. Day’s friends were so well pleased with the rural novelty, that they one and all pledged themselves to accompany him on the same occasion every year, on the first Friday in July, during their lives.
In the course of a few years, this amicable meeting greatly increased, and became known to the neighbouring gentry, farmers, and yeomanry; and a vast number of them annually, on the day of Mr. Day’s jubilee, visited the place. Suttling booths were soon found to be necessary for their accommodation, which naturally produced various other booths for sale, arranged around the huge Oak; and about the year 1725, this charming spot began to present every resemblance of a regular fair. It progressively increasing, puppet-shows, wild beasts, fruits, gingerbread, ribbons, and toys, of all descriptions, attended with the usual pastimes of a country wake, soon succeeded, and in a very few years it became one of the most respectable, well-regulated, and harmonious, fairs round the metropolis. This new generation of Mr. Day’s creation became his principal hobby-horse, and he found himself highly flattered by the honest attentions of his numerous visitors.
Suffer me here to digress for a few moments: methinks we see the good old man indulging the graceful sensations resulting from a knowledge of his having founded and promoted a meeting of innocent conviviality, and receiving the smiling congratulations of artless beauty, dancing around him and his venerable Tree, with bosoms light and pure as the atmosphere above them. Say, ye sons and daughters of dissipation, who indulge in midnight revelry, are your pursuits equal to the simple joys of a country fair? Is there no difference between the confined and crowded play-house, or opera, where you are all gasping for a little contaminated effluvia, and the healthful and fragrant breezes of sylvan Fairlop?
See the ruddy glow of rosy health, so fascinatingly contrasted with the lily’s rival, and the natural ringlets flowing with the playful wind! Behold the modest, yet delightful work of nature! Is there no distinction between these simple beauties, and the artful manufactured face, on which the faithless rouge and poisonous white lay waste God’s best of works, and leave not a wreck behind?
But to return: the open and generous heart of Mr. Day expanded with inexpressible delight at being the cause of happiness to others, he thought some little return due to the lads and lasses, who so graciously favoured him with their company; he provided several sacks of beans, and a sufficient quantity of bacon, dressed; the bacon was mixed in slices with the beans, and distributed from the trunk of the Tree to the multitude in pansful. The happy, frolicksome contest for the envied portion, is more easily conceived than described. Unfortunate was he who did not procure a share for his fair-one. Blessings were the donor’s reward, and the air resounded with huzzas; the very leaves of the venerable Tree nodded in silent and majestic gratitude: this custom he continued to his death. How long the chosen companions of this festival lived to accompany the founder, is not known. It is not to be doubted but they individually kept their word. Mr. Day survived them all, about ten in number, several years.