CHAPTER VIII.

Welsh pedigree of queen Victoria--A poet's flattery--Castles of

Monmouthshire--Geoffrey of Monmouth--Henry of Monmouth--The

Kymin--Subsidiary tour--Sir David Gam--White Castle--Scenfrith--The

Castle spectres--Grosmont--Lanthony Abbey.

"Monmouthshire," as has been well observed, "though now an English

county, may be justly considered the connecting link between England and

Wales, as it unites the scenery, manners, and language of both." In

ancient times, it was a debatable land of another kind, when Romans,

Saxons, and Normans, strove by turns against the aboriginal Britons.

During the Roman invasion it was a part of the territory of the Silures,

who inhabited the eastern division of South Wales, and were one of the

three great Welsh tribes; but in the conflict of the Saxons, Gwent (its

British name) played the most distinguished part of all, under its

sovereign Utha Pendragon and the renowned king Arthur. To Gwent,

moreover, if chronicles say true, we are indebted for our present

sovereign lady, who is descended collaterally from its princes. Merrich,

the son of Ithel, king or prince of Gwent, died without issue male,

leaving one daughter, Morvyth, who espoused Gwno, great grandson to Rees

ap Theodore, prince of South Wales, and lineal ancestor of Sir Owen

Tudor, grandfather of Henry VII. "So that it appears," say the Secret

Memoirs of Monmouthshire, "that the kings of Scotland and England are

originally descended from Morvyth, this Gwentonian prince's daughter, and

heir to Meyrick, last king of Gwent, who, according to several authentic

British pedigrees, was lineally descended from Cadwalladar, the last king

of Britain, and as our historians do testify, did prognosticate, fifteen

hundred years past, that the heirs descended of his loins should be

restored again to the kingdom of Britain, which was partly accomplished

in king Henry VII., and more by the accession of James I. to the British

throne, but wholly fulfilled in the happy union of all Britain by the

glorious queen Anne; whom God long preserved of his great goodness, and

the succession of the Protestant line."

We know not what value may be attached to this illustrious ancestry by

Queen Victoria; but her predecessor, Queen Elizabeth, was fond of tracing

her descent from the ancient kings of her country--a predilection which

the courtly Spenser does not omit to flatter in his Faerie Queene.

"Thy name, O soveraine Queene, thy realme and race,

From this renowned prince derived arre,

Who mightily upheld that royal mace

Which thou now bear'st, to thee descended farre

From mighty kings and couquerors in warre,

Thy fathers and thy grandfathers of old,

Whose noble deeds above the northern starre,

Immortall fame for ever hath enrold;

As in that _old man's booke_ they were in order told."

The _old man_ have referred to is Geoffrey of Monmouth, of whom more

anon.

It is to the Norman invasion that Monmouthshire owes its castles; for the

great barons were not employed by the state, as had been the case with

the Saxons, to conquer the territory, but were invited to enter upon

adventures at their own cost, and for their own gain. The lands they

subdued became their own; they were created lords-barons over them; and

castles speedily bristled up all over the territory to maintain the

authority so acquired. Pennant states the number for Wales at a hundred

and forty-three, of which Monmouthshire, as the frontier region between

the belligerents, had of course the greatest proportion, amounting, it is

said, to at least twenty-five. In these baronial lands, the writs of

ordinary justices of the royal courts were not current. The barons

marchers, as they were called, had recourse to their feudal lord the king

in person; and the same abuses and confusion were the result which we

have noticed in Herefordshire, till Henry VIII. abolished this anomalous

government, divided Wales into twelve shires, and withdrew Monmouthshire

into the list of the English counties. It is interesting to trace the

chain of fortresses thus destined to become, still earlier than in the

natural course of time, a series of ruins. They extend, in this county,

along the banks of the Monnow, the Wye, and the Severn, and from

Grosmont, diagonally, to the banks of the Rumney; while castellated

mansions, such as Raglan, which we shall notice presently (at first only

a rude fortress), arose in all quarters to keep the natives in due

respect.

King Arthur, mentioned above as prince of Gwent, did not reign at

Monmouth, but at Caerleon; although he is closely associated with the

former place, inasmuch as the gothic room in the priory which we have

pointed out, on the authority of tradition, as the study of Geoffrey of

Monmouth, was in all probability the birthplace of his most heroic

achievements. Geoffrey, in fact, for it is needless to attempt to

conceal the fact from our readers, was an historical romancer rather than

an historian. The groundwork of his celebrated performance was Brut y

Breninodd, or the Chronicle of the Kings of Britain, written by Tyssilio,

or St. Telian, bishop of St. Asaph, in the seventh century; but Geoffrey

owns himself, that he made various additions to his original,

particularly of Merlin's prophecies. After all, however, if we may

venture to express our private opinion on so recondite a subject, it

seems to us that a monkish history, of the seventh century, must have

been reasonably fertile in itself in wonderful incidents and legendary

tales, and that in all probability Geoffrey of Monmouth deserves less

credit as a romancer than he has received from one party, as well as less

credit as an historian than he has received from the other.

However this may be, the work has served as a valuable storehouse for our

poets and romancers. It has even supplied the story of King Lear to

Shakspeare, who deepened the pathos by making Cordelia die before her

father; whereas, in the original story, Lear is restored to his kingdom,

and Cordelia to life. Milton drew from it his fiction of Sabrina in the

Mask of Comus; and in early life he had formed the design of writing an

epic poem on the subject taken up from Geoffrey by Spenser, in the second

book of the Faerie Queene--

"A chronicle of Briton kings,

From Brute to Arthur's reign."

Dryden, also, intended to produce an epic poem on the subject of king

Arthur, but he contented himself with an opera, in which he has sublimely

described the British worthy

"in battle brave,

But still serene in all the stormy war,

Like heaven above the clouds; and after fight

As merciful and kind to vanquished foe

As a forgiving God."

Pope followed, in like manner, with plentiful materials for the pavement

of a certain place--good intentions; but after all, our national history

has been left to the muse of Blackmore. {106}

Geoffrey was born in Monmouth, and is supposed to have been educated in

the monastery, although the room pointed out as his study is evidently of

a more modern date. He became archdeacon of his native town, and in 1152

was consecrated bishop of St. Asaph. This is all that is known of his

history; and his works, with the exception of his great romance adverted

to above, are confined to a treatise on the Holy Sacraments, and some

verses on the enchanter Merlin.

Perhaps a word may not be amiss on the other worthy connected by birth

with the fame and the ruins of Monmouth. Henry V. passed some of his

earliest years in this county; but in his youth was transferred to

Oxford, where he studied under his uncle Cardinal Beaufort, then

chancellor of the university, and where, as Stowe relates, he "delighted

in songs, meeters, and musical instruments." He is thus described by the

chronicler, on the authority of John of Elmham:

"This prince exceeded the meane stature of men, he was beautiful of

visage, his necke long, body long and leane, and his bones small;

neverthelesse he was of great marvellous strength, and passing swift

in running, insomuch that he with two other of his lords, without

hounds, bow, or other engine, would take a wild buck or doe in a

large parke."

Henry is usually treated as a mere warrior; and it is the custom to sneer

at him as such, by those who are unable to judge of the minds of men by

the spirit of the age in which they live. He was remarkable, however,

for more than his military prowess, and exhibited many traits of a truly

great character. Some of these are very agreeably detailed by Mr. Coxe,

who relates also, from Speed, that "every day after dinner, for the space

of an hour, his custom was to lean on a cushion set by his cupboard, and

there he himselfe received petitions of the oppressed, which with great

equitie he did redresse." His sudden change from the wild licentiousness

of his youth is described by his contemporary, Thomas de Elmham, as

having taken place at the bedside of his dying father; and we need not

remark that in that age, the religious feeling he exhibited on the

occasion was not inconsistent with the ferocity of the hero.

"The courses of his youth promis'd it not;

The breath no sooner left his father's body,

But that his wildness, mortified in him,

Seem'd to die too: yea, at that very moment,

Consideration like an angel came,

And whipped the offending Adam out of him;

Leaving his body as a paradise,

To envellop, and contain celestial spirits.

Never was such a sudden scholar made;

Never came reformation in a flood,

With such a heady current, scouring faults;

Nor ever hydra-headed wilfulness,

So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,

As in this king."

Monmouth, as the half-way station between Ross and Chepstow for the

tourists of the Wye, usually claims a large portion of their attention;

and, independently of its historical associations, the delightful walks

in the neighbourhood abundantly repay it. The views from numerous points

are very beautiful; and one more especially, independently of the nearer

parts of the picture, commands on all sides an expanse of country which

seems absolutely unlimited.

"If among these views," says the historical tourist, "one can be selected

surpassing the rest, it is perhaps that from the summit of the Kymin,

which rises from the left bank of the Wye, and is situated partly in

Monmouthshire, and partly in Gloucestershire. On the centre of this

eminence overhanging the river and town, a pavilion has been lately

erected by subscription, to which is carried a walk, gently winding up

the acclivity. . . .

"I shall not attempt to describe the unbounded expanse of country around

and beneath, which embraces an extent of nearly three hundred miles. The

eye, satiated with the distant prospect, reposes at length on the near

views, dwells on the country immediately beneath and around, is attracted

with the pleasing position of Monmouth, here seen to singular advantage,

admires the elegant bend and silvery current of the Monnow, glistening

through meads, in its way to the Wye, and the junction of the two rivers,

which forms an assemblage of beautiful objects.

"The level summit of the Kymin is crowned with a beautiful wood, called

Beaulieu Grove, through which walks are made, terminating in seats,

placed at the edge of abrupt declivities, and presenting in perspective,

through openings in the trees, portions of the unbounded expanse seen

from the pavilion. There are six of these openings, three of which

comprehend perspective views of Monmouth, stretching between the Wye and

the Monnow, in different positions. At one of these seats, placed on a

ledge of impending rocks, I looked down on a hanging wood, clothing the

sides of the declivities, and sloping gradually to the Wye, which sweeps

in a beautiful curve, from Dixon Church to the mouth of the Monnow; the

town appears seated on its banks, and beyond the luxuriant and undulating

swells of Monmouthshire, terminated by the Great and Little Skyrrid, the

Black Mountains, and the Sugar Loaf, in all the variety of sublime and

contrasted forms."

It is not our intention to notice any of the numerous seats and mansions

with which this delightful region abounds; but, leaving the tourist to

make such easy discoveries for himself, we would hint to him that, while

at Monmouth, he has an opportunity, without great expense of time or

labour, of making himself acquainted with many interesting objects which

ought to be considered as adjuncts of the tour of the Wye. Between this

place and the Hay the river describes an irregular semicircle, of which

the Monnow, for about half way, may be said to be the cord; and this

latter stream, as the most important and beautiful tributary of the Wye,

has a claim upon the pilgrim which should not be set aside.

This minor excursion, however, will not be complete without diverging a

little to the left at the outset for the purpose of visiting White

Castle; for this ruin is inseparably associated with the other reliques

of baronial power presented by the route. It is within a short distance

of Landeilo Cresseney on the Abergavenny road, where a farm will be

pointed out to the traveller, called the Park, belonging to the duke of

Beaufort, as the site of Old Court, formerly the residence of the valiant

Sir David Gam, who, before the battle of Agincourt, reported to Henry V.

that there were "enough of the enemy to be killed, enough to run away,

and enough to be taken prisoners." It is said that the children of this

Welsh worthy were so numerous as to form a line extending from his house

to the church. From Gladys, one of these children, the dukes of Beaufort

and earls of Pembroke are descended. The farm alluded to was formerly

the red deer park of Raglan Castle.

White Castle must have been constructed in the earliest period of the

Norman era, if not before the conquest; and the massive ruins that still

remain attest that it must have kept the country side in awe, as the

abode of one of those fierce barons who were the prototypes of the giants

and dragons of the romancers. This fortress, with those of Scenfrith and

Grosmont on the banks of the Monnow, belonged to Brien Fitz Count, the

Norman conqueror of the tract called Overwent, stretching from the Wye to

Abergavenny; and they were afterwards seized by Henry III., and given by

him to the celebrated Herbert de Burgh. Herbert resigned them anew to

the crown, after being imprisoned and almost famished to death. Henry

granted them to his son Edward Crouchback, and they afterwards fell to

John of Gaunt, in the way we have related of Monmouth Castle, and became

parcel of the duchy of Lancaster.

The ruins stand on the ridge of an eminence, surrounded by a moat. The

walls, which are very massive, describe nearly an oval, and are defended

by six round towers, not dividing the courtine in the usual way, but

altogether extramural, and capable, therefore, of acting as independent

fortresses, even after the inner court had been taken. The principal

entrance was protected by a portcullis and drawbridge, and by an immense

barbican, greatly disproportioned to the size of the castle, on the

opposite site of the moat. The name of the place was Castell Gwyn, White

Castle, or Castell Blanch, all which mean the same thing in British,

Saxon, and Norman.

In the time of James I., it is presented as "ruinous and in decay time

out of mind," and yet, during the reign of his immediate predecessor

Elizabeth, it is described in the Worthines of Wales as "a loftie

princely place."

"Three castles fayre are in a goodly ground,

Grosmont is one, on hill it builded was;

Skenfrith the next, in valley it is found,

The soyle about for pleasure there doth passe;

Whit Castle is the third of worthy fame,

The county there doth bear Whit Castle's name,

A stately seate, a loftie princely place,

Whose beauties give the simple soyle some grace."

Scenfrith is not more than five miles from White Castle, but the access

to it is only fit for pedestrians. The ruin stands on a secluded spot in

the midst of hills, and overlooks the placid Monnow, the passage of which

it was no doubt its duty to guard. It is a small fortress severely

simple, and exhibiting all the marks of high antiquity. There are no

traces of outworks; but the walls are flanked by five circular towers.

About the middle of the area is a round tower, which was the keep or

citadel. Scenfrith seems to have no history peculiarly its own; it was

one of "the three castles," changing hands with them apparently as a

matter of course, and that was enough for its ambition.

The road from Scenfrith to Grosmont leads through Newcastle; but the

remains of the fortress, from which this place derived its name, are

barely discernible, and its history has for ever perished. In the

absence of human associations, however, it is well provided with those of

another kind. The mount, or barrow, under which its fragments are

hidden, is the haunt of spirits; and an oak tree in the neighbourhood is

so completely protected by such means, that an attempt even to lop a

branch is sure to be punished by supernatural power.

The ruins of Grosmont Castle stand on an eminence near the Monnow,

surrounded by a dry moat, with barbican and other outworks. Its pointed

arches declare it by far the youngest of the three sisters. The remains

now left enclose only a small area; but walls and foundations may be

traced, which show that its original size was really considerable, and

this is confirmed by the presence of a spacious apartment, which no doubt

formed the great baronial hall. In the reign of Henry III. it was

invested by Llewellin, and the siege raised by the king; and, on another

occasion, Henry retreated to Grosmont, where his troops were surprised by

the Welsh as they slept in the trenches, and lost five hundred horses,

besides baggage and treasure. The banks of the Monnow, from which the

ruins rise, are precipitous, and tufted with oaks, and the whole scene is

singularly picturesque. The hero of the village tradition is here John

of Kent, or Guent, who built a bridge over the Monnow in a single night,

by means of one of his familiar spirits. Many other stories as wonderful

are related of him by the inhabitants; some say he was a monk, versed in

the black art; others that he was a disciple of Owen Glendowr; and others

that he was the great magician himself.

At Grosmont the line of the Monnow turns away to the west, towards its

source among the Black Mountains; but the traveller who eschews more

fatigue than is necessary will take the route by Craig-gate and

Crickhowell, and so get into a road which will lead him along the Honddy,

a tributary of the Monnow, to the magnificent ruins of Lanthony Abbey,

the furthest object we propose to him in this subsidiary tour.

"Here it was, stranger, that the patron saint

Of Cambria passed his age of penitence--

A solitary man; and here he made

His hermitage; the roots his food, his drink

Of Honddy's mountain-stream. Perchance thy youth

Has read with eager wonder how the knight

Of Wales, in Ormandine's enchanted bowers,

Slept the long sleep: and if that in thy veins

Flows the pure blood of Britain, sure that blood

Has flowed with quicker impulse at the tale

Of Dafydd's deeds, when through the press of war

His gallant comrades followed his green crest

To conquests. Stranger! Hatterel's mountain heights,

And this fair vale of Cwias, and the stream

Of Honddy, to thine after thoughts will rise

More grateful, thus associate with the name

Of Dafydd and the deeds of other days."

"After catching a transient view of the Honddy," says archdeacon Coxe,

"winding through a deep glen, at the foot of hills overspread with wood

and sprinkled with white cottages, we proceeded along a hollow way, which

deepened as we advanced, and was scarcely broad enough to admit the

carriage. In this road, which, with more propriety might be termed a

ditch, we heard the roar of the torrent beneath, but seldom enjoyed a

view of the circumjacent scenery. We passed under a bridge thrown across

the chasm, to preserve the communication with the fields on each side:

this bridge was framed of the trunks of trees, and secured with side

rails, to prevent the tottering passenger from falling in the abyss

beneath. It brought to my recollection several bridges of similar

construction, which I observed in Norway, which are likewise occasionally

used as aqueducts, for the purposes of irrigation. Emerging from this

gloomy way, we were struck with the romantic village of Cwnyoy, on the

opposite bank of the Honddy, hanging on the sides of the abrupt cliff,

under a perpendicular rock, broken into enormous fissures. We continued

for some way between the torrent and the Gaer, and again plunged into a

hollow road, where we were enclosed, and saw nothing but the overhanging

hedgerows. . . . The abbey was built like a cathedral, in the shape of

Roman crosses, and though of small dimensions, was well proportioned.

The length, from the western door to the eastern extremity, is 210 feet;

and the breadth, including two aisles, 50; the length of the transept,

from north to south, 100. It was constructed soon after the introduction

of the Gothic architecture, and before the disuse of the Norman, and is a

regular composition of both styles. The whole roof, excepting a small

fragment of the north aisle, is fallen down, and the building is

extremely dilapidated. The nave alone exhibits a complete specimen of

the original plan, and is separated on each side by the two aisles, by

eight pointed arches, resting on piers of the simplest construction,

which are divided from the upper tier of Norman arches by a straight band

of _fascia_. From the small fragment in the northern aisle, the roofs

seem to have been vaulted and engroined, and the springing columns, by

which it was supported, are still visible on the wall. Four bold arches,

in the centre of the church, supported a square tower, two sides of which

only remain. The ornamental arch in the eastern window, which appears in

the engraving of Mr. Wyndham's Tour, and in that published by Hearne, has

now fallen. The only vestiges of the choir are a part of the south wall,

with a Norman door, that led into the side aisle, and the east end of the

south wall; a bold Norman arch, leading from the transept into the

southern aisle of the choir, still exists. The walls of the southern

aisle are wholly dilapidated; and the side view of the two ranges of

Gothic arches, stretching along the nave, is singularly picturesque; the

outside wall of the northern aisle is entire, excepting a small portion

of the western extremity; the windows of this part are wholly Norman, and

make a grand appearance. In a word, the western side is most elegant;

the northern side is most entire; the southern the most picturesque; the

eastern the most magnificent."

The abbey originated in a small chapel, built here as a hermitage by St.

David, the titular saint of Wales; but for the account of its foundation

and history, we must refer the reader to Mr. Coxe's Tour, Dugdale's

Monasticon, or the History of Gloucestershire.

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