principality, is now entirely in ruins, except Mortimer’s Tower, which
was repaired by Sir Henry Sidney, during his presidency. It is now
inhabited by an old servant of Lord Powis’s, a very civil and intelligent
man, who related with the utmost concern the sad vicissitudes this castle
had experienced: he insisted on our entering the tower of his habitation,
and ascending the crumbling stairs, for a full display of the various
beauties in the vicinity of Ludlow. He expatiated much on a valuable
diamond ring, which he had discovered himself when attempting to drain a
cellar; the inscription of Hebrew characters round the gold within the
ring was interpreted by the learned, “a good heart;” this, and several
coins of silver and gold, which were found at the same time, are now in
the possession of Lord Powis: near the same spot a number of skeletons
were likewise dug up. He next conducted us to a small room in this
tower, to observe an old stone placed over the fire-place, with a cross,
the letters W. S. and the date 1575, engraven on it.
Over the south-east gateway, leading into the interior of the castle, are
the arms of Elizabeth, Queen of England; and beneath, those of the Sydney
family, with the following inscription:
HOMINIBUS INGRATIS LOQUIMINI
LAPIDES.—ANN. REGNI REGINÆ
ELIZABETHÆ 23.—THE 28 YEAR
COPLET OF THE RESIDENCE
OF SIR HENRY SYDNEY KNIGHT
OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE
GARTER, 1581.
This castle, founded by Roger de Montgomery, on a rock, in the north-east
angle of the town, supposed to be in the year 1112, was considerably
enlarged by Sir Henry Sydney. Its ancient British name, Dinan Llys
Tywysog, signifies the Prince’s Palace. The vicissitudes of war have
frequently been exemplified in this castle; it has had its lords and its
princes; it has been plundered, captured, dismantled, and repaired, in
those periods of civil warfare, which this unfortunate country in former
times continually experienced. Philips, in the History and Antiquities
of Shrewsbury, during those melancholy troubles, gives some account of
this castle. Some historians affirm that King Edward V. and his brother
were born in Ludlow Castle; but others, not crediting this assertion,
attribute their birth-place to Wigmore; certain, however, it is, that
during their minority they here held their court, under the tuition of
Lord Anthony Woodville and Lord Scales, till they were removed to London,
and soon after smothered in the Tower by the command of their cruel and
ambitious uncle, the Duke of Gloucester. Here, likewise, Prince Arthur,
the eldest son of King Henry VII., celebrated his marriage with the
virtuous Catherine of Arragon; and in the year 1502 he here paid the debt
of nature, and was buried in the cathedral church of Worcester.
The account of the representation at Ludlow of Milton’s celebrated mask
of Comus, is thus mentioned in the life of that poet, prefixed to
Newton’s edition:—“It was in the year 1634 that this mask was presented
at Ludlow Castle. There was formerly a president of Wales, and a sort of
a court kept at Ludlow, which has since been abolished; and the president
at that time was the Earl of Bridgewater, before whom Milton’s mask was
presented on Michaelmas night; and the principal parts, those of the two
brothers, were performed by his lordship’s sons, the Lord Brackly and Mr.
Thomas Egerton; and that of the lady, by his lordship’s daughter, the
Lady Alice Egerton.”
In the first year of William and Mary the presidency was dissolved by Act
of Parliament, “being a great grievance to the subject, and a means to
introduce an arbitrary power, especially in the late reign, when a new
convert family were at the head of it.”
The church next demanded our attention, the only one belonging to this
town. The time of the foundation of this ancient and elegant structure
cannot now be strictly ascertained: it is situated on an eminence, in the
centre of the town. The square tower is lofty, and of very light
architecture, but the upper part suffered much from the all-destroying
hand of Oliver Cromwell. The highly-finished statues round the
battlements are much mutilated, and many entirely destroyed. On entering
the church, six light Gothic fluted arches on each side, with four
similar ones of larger dimensions, supporting the tower, are strikingly
grand. Under the organ-loft we passed into the chancel, now only made
use of for the administration of the sacrament. This is a most elegant
building, with thirteen stalls on each side, similar, in style, to the
generality of cathedrals. The seats of the stalls, all of which turn
back, exhibit specimens of curious workmanship, with strange devices and
ridiculous conceits. Some of the glass painted windows are still in good
preservation: the large one over the altar-piece represents the history
of St. Lawrence, to whom this church is dedicated, in fifty-four
compartments. The other windows of the chancel are much mutilated,
collected from different parts of the church, and several panes broken by
the unmeaning idleness of boys, regardless of these valuable relics of
antiquity.—In the side of the wall, near the altar, are two stone stalls,
with a piscina opposite.
In this chancel is a handsome monument, erected to the memory of Robert
Townsend and his wife, with several figures of their sons and daughters
carved round the bottom; over them are the arms of their family and
connexions; it bears the date of 1581: a modern monument to Theophilus
Solway, Esq. An ancient one to Ambrosia Sydney, who died at Ludlow
Castle. This lady was daughter to Sir Henry Sydney, who attained the
important situation of the presidency of Wales in the year 1564. He died
at Bewdley in 1584, and left this singular injunction to his executors:
“That his heart should be buried at Shrewsbury, his bowels at Bewdley,
and his body at Ludlow, in the tomb of his favourite daughter Ambrosia.”
This order was punctually executed; and the leaden urn, containing his
heart, was six inches deep, and five inches in diameter at the top, with
this inscription carved three times round it:
“Her lith the Harte of Syr Henrye Sydney, L. P. _anno Domini_, 1586.”
For an engraving of this urn, taken from a drawing of Mr. S. Nicholas,
see the Gentleman’s Magazine for September, 1794. Another monument to
Edward Weston and his wife, kneeling opposite to each other.
In this church is likewise buried Sir John Bridgeman, the last president
but one of Ludlow Castle. He was extremely rigid in his office; and one
Ralph Gittins, who had probably experienced his severity, composed the
following epitaph on him:
“Here lies Sir John Bridgeman, clad in his clay:
God said to the Devil, Sirrah, take him away.”
Should the tourist find time to make any stay at Ludlow, several
excursions in the neighbourhood will prove highly gratifying. Oakley
Park, the elegant seat of the Dowager Lady Clive, claims the greatest
attention; it is situated about two miles from Ludlow, on the banks of
the Teme River: just beyond this, a seat of — Walpole, Esq. About five
miles distant is Downton Castle, the noble mansion and fine walks of
Richard Payne Knight, Esq. one of the representatives in Parliament for
the borough of Ludlow. Being necessitated to leave this charming country
by a particular day, we had no opportunity of visiting these celebrated
and much-admired houses.
With regret we left the delightful situation of Ludlow; and, crossing
Lawford’s bridge, we ascended an eminence along a beautiful terrace,
commanding a most charming and pleasant country to our left, with the
fertile county of Hereford, abounding with orchards, which were all
bending with the produce of the year. About two miles from Ludlow, on
the right, we paused to admire the delightful seat of Theophilus Richard
Solway, Esq. situated on an eminence, and skirted by a rich plantation of
wood towards the west: it is called the Lodge. Descending into a bottom,
a rich country, studded with farm-houses, soon brought us to the town of
LEOMINSTER,
or Leminster, consisting of one long street. The market-place in the
centre, bearing a very old date, and likewise the church, are both
deserving of the traveller’s notice. It is situated in a flat, and the
country round it is not particularly interesting. From hence a turnpike
road, showing to advantage the rich culture of the country, soon brought
us within sight of the venerable cathedral of
HEREFORD,
backed by a sloping eminence just rising behind, and beautifully clothed
with wood. Being under a particular engagement to meet a party at Ross,
to accompany us down the Wye the following day, time would not allow us
to investigate this respectable city so minutely as it deserves. Our
observations, therefore, were so cursory, that the Hereford Guide must
supply the deficiencies in this part of our journal; this neglect the
tourist must attribute to our delay at the engaging town of Ludlow.
At Hereford we for some time hesitated respecting the hire of a boat to
convey us to Ross; but the exorbitant demand of the boatmen soon
determined us to pursue the turnpike road, and follow as near as possible
the course of the Wye. The orchards were overcharged with “bending
fruit,” and seemed to prognosticate a more favourable cider season than
has of late been experienced. The retrospect of the city, with its
ancient cathedral, formed a most attracting view; and about three miles a
most lovely vale, bounded by the hills of South Wales, arrested our
attention. A continuation of the same scenery of orchards, in which
Herefordshire so peculiarly abounds, with the road continually dipping
into shallow valleys, attended us within five miles of Ross; when,
ascending a steep hill, a view of that town, or, rather, of its
far-conspicuous spire, broke in upon the reposing character of the scene.
This presently conducted us to Wilton bridge, thrown over the Wye; and,
leaving the castle to the left, we ascended the town of
ROSS,
to the inn, so celebrated as the original habitation of Mr. Kyrle; more
generally known by the name of the Man of Ross. The landlord seems
rather to depend upon the custom of strangers, and from this circumstance
the inn offers indifferent accommodations. On the bridge we paused a
short time to take a view of the meandering Vaga, which here considerably
widens. Several pleasure-boats, of various constructions, were riding at
anchor, and united to enliven the watery scene; whilst its smooth
tranquil surface reflected and reverted every object situated on the
banks.
The life and character of Mr. Kyrle has too often been insisted on, and
too frequently celebrated in verse, to be again repeated, unless to
“point out its moral to the heart;” teaching us that self-approbation can
confer an inward happiness superior to all worldly applause; for,
“What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy;
The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy,
Is virtue’s prize.”
Such a bustle pervaded the whole town, of parties assembling here for an
aquatic expedition to Monmouth the following day, that with difficulty we
obtained a small room. From this circumstance it would be advisable for
parties to secure themselves accommodations, during the summer months, a
considerable time beforehand; such is the continued assemblage of parties
forming for the Wye. A boat likewise should be hired, and by mentioning
the number of your party, the landlord will be a proper judge respecting
the size. Strangers may pass with pleasure the greatest part of a day in
surveying the views in the vicinity of Ross; views which must gratify the
most superficial observer, but more particularly from the churchyard. A
walk may be preferred through the latter place to the Prospect, so called
from the profuse variety of objects in the beautiful and the sublime,
which are presented from this spot. The sudden bursts of such a
collection of beauties the eye, indeed, cannot contain without
gratification. The river below bends itself in the whimsical and
fantastical shape of a horse-shoe; this singular wind of the river—the
ruins of Wilton Castle—the luxuriant counties of Hereford and Monmouth,
and the beautiful Chase Woods, all combine to promote one peculiarly
grand and striking effect. To enter into a minute description of objects
so various and extensive, is impossible: in fine, to delineate the
beauties of the Vaga, with all its accompaniments, would be enumerating
every object that is interesting in nature. Having sufficiently
contemplated the view from the Prospect, a ramble through the meadows
will next prove highly pleasing.
The situation of Ross, though exceedingly beautiful, has nothing in
itself to detain attention: the streets are narrow, dirty, and
inconvenient. The castle of Wilton, situated on the banks of the Wye,
was founded in the reign of King Henry the First: it was formerly a
nunnery, from whence the Greys de Wilton derive their title.
Early in the morning we congratulated each other on the favourable state
of the weather, and with good spirits provided all the necessaries
requisite for our water expedition; the enjoyment of which depends much
upon the season. The hire of the boat to Monmouth by water is one pound
eleven shillings and sixpence, not including ten shillings for provisions
for the men, who likewise expect an additional small sum, after the
fatigues of the day. The boat, navigated by three men, will contain ten
or twelve people without any inconvenience, and is properly protected by
an awning from the heat of the sun. The distance from Ross to Chepstow,
by water, is more than forty miles, which strangers occasionally
accomplish in one day: but this hurrying method will not allow them an
opportunity of inspecting, with proper attention, the various objects
which deserve to be noticed; and they cannot possibly find time to leave
their boat, and climb the rugged steep banks of the Wye in search of
views, which, though visited by the discerning few, yet merit the regard
of every amateur of nature’s landscapes. And here it may not be improper
to mention, that the boatmen too frequently suffer these most interesting
spots to be passed unnoticed by strangers, merely from laziness, or to
avoid the delay of a few minutes. Gilpin, in his excellent treatise,
Observations on the River Wye, thus analyzes, in the second section, the
beauties of the “echoing Vaga,” and divides its constituent parts
into—the steepness of its banks, its mazy course, the ground, woods, and
rocks, which are its native ornaments, and, lastly, the buildings. To
this he might with propriety have added its echoes, the variety of views
from its banks, the fishing coracles, which are continually on the river;
for all these contribute to form one pleasing and interesting effect.
We embarked on board our boat a little below the town; and the first
object which drew our attention was the ivy-mantled walls of Wilton
Castle. The annual growth of the few trees which encircle it will in
time render it a more picturesque object; it is at present so
sufficiently seen from the water as not to require the stranger to
disembark for farther inspection. A few yards below we passed under
Wilton Bridge, an elegant structure of several arches. From hence, for
four or five miles, the banks are tame and uninteresting, and so high
above the river as to prevent a prospect of the adjacent country; but a
group of cattle, some ruminating on the brink, some browzing on the
ashlings which overhung the stream, and others
—“From their sides,
The troublous insects lashing with their tails,
Returning still,”
formed a “rural confusion.” The velocity of the stream shortly brought
us to that noble scenery, about four miles from Ross, which so eminently
distinguishes and constitutes the beauty of the Wye: before us the noble
remains of Goodrich Castle, cresting a steep eminence, enveloped with
trees, presented themselves; behind, the thick foliage of Chase Woods
closed the picture. The happiest gradation of tints, and the liveliest
blending of colours were here conspicuous. On the right hand we landed
on the shore, in order to make a minute investigation of the castle: it
is certainly a grand ruin, and stands on an eminence, naturally so steep
as to render it in former times capable of some resistance against a
formidable enemy. On our first entrance into the ruin we naturally
indulged reflections on past scenes, contemplated the traces of ancient
splendor; and, connecting what remains with what is destroyed, we
pondered on the vanity of human art and the ravages of time, which
exhibit in this ruin their completest triumph. The warrior who strove to
preserve its original grandeur against the attacks of Cromwell is buried
in Walford Church, situated on the opposite side of the river, and seen
from the castle. The different parts of the building bear evident marks
of its having been erected at various times: from a seat in the
castle-yard is the most advantageous spot for surveying, in one view, the
whole of this ruin: {310} an octagon pillar of light and elegant
workmanship, is seen to great advantage through the gateway, and adds
considerably to the magnificence of this ancient pile: it now belongs to
Dr. Griffin, of Hadnock, the lord of the manor.
To return to our boat, we took a different and more circuitous route, for
the purpose of inspecting the remains of Goodrich Priory, now converted
into a farm. The chapel has experienced the same vicissitude; and those
walls, which formerly re-echoed with the chanting of voices and the
solemn peal, now repeat the continued strokes of the flail. In many
parts of the walls the initials of names of persons who have long since
paid the debt of nature, and left behind no other memorial, are carved
with characteristic rudeness, showing to every passing stranger the
prevalency of that universal passion—the love of fame. The Gothic
windows, and the cross erected on each end of the building, show evident
marks of its former purpose. The boat usually meets the passengers at
another reach of the river; but it is a plan by no means to be
recommended; since by missing a circuit round the castle, its different
tints and variety of attitudes, occasioned by one of the boldest sweeps
of the Wye, are entirely lost. A short time after we had taken our last
retrospect of Goodrich Castle, the spire of Ruredean Church {311}
appeared in front, just peeping from among the woody skirts of the forest
of Dean; a little below Courtfield House, belonging to Mr. Vaughan, was
seen in a very picturesque point of view, with the ruins of the chapel,
forming the back-ground. In Courtfield House, tradition reports, the
warlike King Henry the Fifth was nursed; and in the church of Welsh
Bicknor, situated to the right in a noble amphitheatre enclosed with
rocks, first embraced the Christian religion.
A busy scene of craft loading and unloading, and coals shipping for
various parts from the quay at Lidbrook, presents a picture of cheerful
activity, and forms a pleasing contrast to the quiet, rich, and retired
spots we had left behind us: such spots as were well adapted to form the
mind of Britain’s glory—the virtuous Henry. The banks now became richly
clothed with wood, from the summits of the highest rocks to the water’s
edge; and a hill in front, called Rosemary Topping, from the mellow
luxuriance of its sides, closed the prospect. Almost every sweep
presents a new object to strike the admiration of the spectator; the
transitions are sudden, but never so harsh as to disgust. Even the
contrast between the embellishments of art we had just left, and the wild
rocks which here exhibit nature in her most striking attitudes, gave an
additional impression to each other.
We now reached the fine mass of rocks called Coldwell, one of which,
Symond’s Yacht to the left, it is customary for company to ascend, in
order to view the mazy and circuitous course of the river, and the
extensive prospect around. The forest of Dean, the counties of Monmouth,
Hereford, and Gloucester, were extended before us, studded with villages,
diversified with clusters of half-visible farm-houses; with many a grey
steeple, “embosomed high in tufted trees.” In painting the several views
from this summit the happiest description would fail; the impression can
only be conveyed by the eye. The river here makes a most extraordinary
winding round the promontory; and having completed a circuit of more than
five miles, flows a second time immediately under Symond’s Yatch. {312}
The whole of this mazy course may be traced from this eminence. From
hence we discovered a very remarkable polysyllabical articulate echo, and
we reckoned twelve distinct reverberations from the explosion of a gun
fired on this spot. It is here again customary for the boatmen to impose
on strangers, and if they can prevail on them, during their walk to
Symond’s Yacht, will take the boat round the circuit of five miles, and
meet them at New Weir, in order that no time should be lost; but this
laziness we by no means encouraged; and the whole course of this
extraordinary and romantic sweep proved highly gratifying. Goodrich
Spire, which we again wound round, presented itself: huge fragments of
massy rocks which have rolled down from the precipices opposite Manuck
Farm, here almost choked up the course of the stream. The changing
attitudes and various hues of Symond’s Yacht, lifting its almost spiral
head high above the other rocks, as we receded and drew near it, supplied
a combination of tints surprisingly gay and beautiful; and having
accomplished a sweep of five miles, we reached, within a quarter of a
mile, the spot where we began our ascent to this steep eminence.
The view of New Weir next unfolded itself; but a disagreeable scene here
generally occurs, and interrupts the pleasure of contemplation: a large
assemblage of beggars, men, women, and children, on the banks,
bare-footed and scarcely a rag to cover them, followed our boat,
imploring charity; and several almost throwing themselves into the water,
to catch your money, which every now and then the bigger seize from the
less.
But I have omitted to mention, that before we reached the New Weir, the
spire of Haunton on Wye, cresting a hill at the extremity of a long
reach, and a fantastic barren rock, jutting out from the green foliage
which encircles it, presenting itself bold and conspicuous, formed
prominent and interesting features in the landscape; this is called
Bearcroft, receiving its appellation from the very respectable and
learned counsellor of that name. Several rocks, indeed, particularly in
this part of the river, are named by the counsel, who have long made it a
practice of exploring the rich and bold scenery of the Wye on their
assize circuit. Gilpin, considering New Weir as the second grand scene
on the Wye, thus describes it:
“The river is wider than usual in this part, and takes a sweep round a
towering promontory of rock, which forms the side screen on the left, and
is the grand feature of the view. On the right side of the river the
bank forms a woody amphitheatre, following the course of the stream round
the promontory: its lower skirts are adorned with a hamlet, in the midst
of which volumes of thick smoke thrown up at intervals from an iron
forge, as its fires receive fresh fuel, add double grandeur to the scene.
But what peculiarly marks this view is a circumstance on the water: the
whole river at this place makes a precipitate fall, of no great height,
indeed, but enough to merit the name of a cascade, though to the eye
above the stream it is an object of no consequence. In all the scenes we
had yet passed, the water moving with a slow and solemn pace, the objects
around kept time, as it were, with it; and every steep and every rock
which hung over the river was solemn, tranquil, and majestic. But here
the violence of the stream and the roaring of the waters impressed a new
character on the scene: all was agitation and uproar; and every steep and
every rock stared with wildness and terror.”—The accuracy and elegance of
this description, drawn by so masterly a pen, I hope will amply
compensate for the length of this quotation. The extensive iron works
mentioned in this passage belong to Mr. Partridge.