On our approach to the town of Hay, we pass its small church, situated
on a high and clayey bank of the river, from whence the town and
adjoining objects, afford little worthy the attention of the artist. To
preface this section, I have therefore selected a general view of the
town and surrounding country, from a spot about a mile below the bridge,
which presents a scene highly enriched by an assemblage of woods,
meadows, and corn fields, at once extensive, and in a peculiar degree
interesting.
The town is happily situated on the declivity of a hill, on which the
houses rising gradually, convey the idea of a place of infinitely more
consequence than really it possesses, and in no small degree gives the
general outline of an Italian landscape. The face of this scenery and
bridge is fully illustrative of the position laid down in the last
section, of the superior beauty of flat bridges over those that are
elevated. This bridge is formed of seven arches and in the year 1795,
met with a similar fate to the preceding one, and which were thrown
across the torrents that pour themselves along the vallies of this
mountainous country.
The purple hue of the distance called the black mountains, affords a
good background to this scenery, which is heightened by the rich glow of
a noon-tide sun, darting at the instant, and giving force and relief to
every object. These mountains extend fourteen or fifteen miles towards a
place called Monmouth Cap, about eight miles from Abergavenny. The head
of water in the fore ground of the view, is formed from a small river
called Boonewayne Brook, which supplies the neighbouring mill with
water; the goat who stood browsing on a high bank of the river before
us, was an object we were not accustomed to meet with even in Wales, as
I do not remember to have seen more than three, in the course of a long
tour through this country.
The town of Hay was formerly called Hain, it derives its name from the
British word Tregelhi, which, says Camden “may be rendered Hasely, or
Hasleton; it appears to have been well known to the Romans, some remains
of their walls being still visible, and many of their coins having been
found here.” He likewise says “the ancient town was consumed by fire by
the profligate rebel, Owen Glyndwr or Glendower, in his marches through
this country.” Our divine bard has put the following lines into the
mouth of Glendower, when speaking of his antagonist.
“Three times hath _Henry Bolingbroke_ made head
“Against my pow’r, thrice from the banks of _Wye_,
“And sandy-bottom’d _Severn_, have I sent
“Him bootless home, and weather-beaten back.”
This place anciently belonged to William de Brus, Lord of Brecknock, and
was nearly destroyed by Lewis, Dauphin of France, in 1216, who had been
invited into England by the Barons disaffected to King John.
The town of Hay is situated on the extreme angle of Brecknockshire, and
on the borders of Herefordshire. Near the church, on the highest land on
the brink of the river, there anciently stood a castle built by the
Normans, of which little more now remains than a mound of earth, and the
entrenchments that surround it. The present castle stands nearly in the
centre of the town. Its Gothic entrance, and the Ivy over-growing the
remains of the ancient tower, produce a striking effect on the approach
to this venerable ruin.
A large house adjoining, is the property of Richard Wellington, Esq.; It
is erected on the site of the old castle, and appears to have been the
work of the age of James I. Within a few years, it has been modernized,
by which it has in some degree been stripped of that small share of the
picturesque, that in some instances is to be found even in that
barbarous age of architecture. As the castle is not generally noticed by
the traveller, nor has any print that I can learn, ever yet been given
of it, the annexed view may not prove unacceptable to the curious
enquirer. On quitting Hay, the Wye receives a considerable body of water
from the river Dulas, across which is a stone bridge of one arch. Thus
assisted, our river becomes a copious stream, and has been long rendered
navigable in the winter seasons. For this purpose two statutes were
passed in parliament, the one in the fourteenth of Charles II. the other
in the seventh of William III.
About two miles below the town, the ruin of the once famous Clifford
castle presents itself; it stands on a considerable eminence on the bank
of the Wye, is well situated for defence, and forms a boundary to the
western part of the county of Hereford. Its walls are not sufficiently
high, nor are the parts so broken and irregular as to afford a complete
picturesque object, but it has yet considerable attractions to merit the
notice of the speculative and inquisitive traveller. Camden says, that
it is recorded in doom’s-day book, to have been built by William
Fitzosborn, Earl of Hereford. It came afterwards to Walter, the son of
Richard de Ponts, a Norman, who came into England with William the
Conqueror. Walter took his name of De Clifford from this castle, and
from him descended the illustrious family of the earls of Cumberland. We
shall not enter into a detail of the warlike exploits performed in this
place, but confine ourselves to the well known story of fair Rosamond,
daughter of an earl of Clifford, who was born in this castle. The story,
whether fabulous or true, has been deemed not unworthy the attention,
both of the poet and historian. Master Hollinshead in his usual
quaintness of style, thus speaks of King Henry the second’s
incontinence, and of his particular attachment to the fair Rosamond,
“for not contented with the use of his wife, he kept many concubines,
but namely he delighted most in the companie of a pleasant damosell,
whome he ’cleped the rose of the world, the common people named hir
_Rosamond_, for hir passing beautie, propernesse of person, and pleasant
wit, with other amyable qualities, being verily a rare and peerelesse
peece in those days. He made for hir an house at Woodstocke in
Oxfordshire, like to a laberinth, that is to meane, wrought like a knot
in a garden, called a maze, with such turnings and windings in and out,
that no creature might finde her nor come to hir, except he were
instructed by the king, or such as were secrete with him in that matter.
But the common report of the people is, that the queene finally found
her out by a silke thread, whiche the king had drawne forth of hir
chamber with his foote, and dealte with hir in such sharpe and cruell
wise, that she lived not long after. She was buried in the Nunrie of
Godstow beside Oxforde, with these verses upon hir tumbe.”
“Hic jacet in tumulo, Rosamundi non Rosamunda,
“Non redolet sed olet, quæ redolere solet.”
We cannot quit this subject, the family of the De Cliffords, without
adverting to another of its noble descendants, George Clifford, the
third earl of Cumberland, who in 1525, was advanced to the dignity of an
earl. The seats of this adventurous and renowned warrior, are
transmitted to us by various historians, and though to many persons they
may be well known, yet some mention of him in this place, may not be
thought irrelevant to our subject. This nobleman was one of the peers
who sat in judgment on Mary Queen of Scots, and became afterwards a
great favourite of her cousin Elizabeth. He signalized himself highly at
sea in various engagements against the Spaniards, and behaved with much
intrepidity during the memorable encounter with the invincible Armada.
In consequence of his gallantry the Queen created him an Admiral, and a
few years after, a Knight of the Garter; he was likewise one of the
lords sent out with the forces to reduce the Earl of Essex. He died in
London at the Savoy, at the age of forty seven, in the year 1605.
We cannot pass over a striking instance of gallantry, in this
extraordinary hero, as recorded by Mr. Pennant, which appears fully to
keep pace with his bravery as a naval commander. “At an audience, which
the earl had after one of his expeditions, Queen Elizabeth, perhaps
designedly, dropped one of her gloves. His lordship took it up, and
presented it to her; upon which she graciously desired him to keep it as
a mark of her esteem. He adorned the glove with diamonds, and wore it in
the front of his high crowned hat on days of tournament.” This
circumstance is recorded in a very curious and rare print of the earl,
engraved by Robert White, in which the glove appears. Another instance
of the queen’s favor to this earl of Cumberland, was, her appointing him
her champion in her tilting matches, in which exercise he excelled all
the nobility of his time. His magnificent armour worn in this age of
chivalry, was adorned with roses and fleur de lis, and is now preserved
at Appleby Castle in Westmoreland. He married Margaret, third daughter
of Francis earl of Bedford, by whom he had three children, two sons who
died young, and a daughter named Anne, who was successively married to
Richard earl of Dorset, and to Philip earl of Pembroke and Montgomery.
This lady appears by the following letter to have inherited with the
family estates, all the bravery and spirit of her great ancestors. Sir
Joseph Williamson, when secretary of state to Charles the II. wrote to
the Countess, wishing to name a candidate to her for the borough of
Appleby, to which she returned the following spirited answer “I have
been bullied by an usurper, I have been neglected by a court, but I will
not be dictated to by a subject. Your man shan’t stand.”
“ANNE, DORSET;
“Pembroke and Montgomery.”
Dr. Campbell, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, highly commends the
expression of this letter, he says, “an ordinary spirit would have
employed as many pages to express the same thing, as there are
affirmations in this short letter.” Of this extraordinary lady, Dr.
Donne remarked, “that in her younger years, she knew well how to
discourse of all things, from predestination, to slea-silk.”
From this digression, which we hope will not prove uninteresting, we
return again to the main subject of our enquiry.
The winding and mazy course of the Wye in about two miles, brings us to
Whitney, where, in 1794, the piers and part of the arches of a new stone
bridge were in great forwardness, but in the succeeding spring, the
whole was swept away by that hidden thaw and torrent, whose devastations
we have more than once had occasion to notice. In this unfinished state,
the busy scenery of the various artificers at work, a ferry boat
perpetually in motion, and the distant village church, peeping above the
hills in the back ground, produced altogether a subject well worthy the
pencil; but from the confined nature of this work, and the abundant
rich, and luxuriant scenery, we have yet to display, we feel it
impossible to insert every object in picture, however highly it may
merit our notice in description. Passing several beautiful villages, we
reach Willersley, in the vicinity of which, the extensive range of
Merbidge Hills afforded us, from their summit, a grand and extensive
view of the surrounding country. Another noble object presents itself in
this neighbourhood, which bears the name of Brobery’s Scar: its
principal attractions are the bold and majestic roughnesses of its form,
that contrast beautifully with the views, more immediately upon the eye,
on the bank of our river. Hence, amidst a profusion of rich and
beautiful scenery, at a place called Rhydspence, the river quits
Radnorshire, and glides its easy course towards Bradwardin. This town
stands on an easy ascent on the bank of the Wye, and presents itself in
a happy point of view above the bridge, the northern bank of the river
rises to a considerable height, and is richly cloathed with shrubbery.
In the annexed view we have aimed at a representation of this beautiful
and romantic scene. The river here acquires a considerable width, and
though in a dry season, has a proportionable depth of water. In this
vicinity there was formerly a castle, of which very little remains. This
place gave birth, and name to the famous Thomas Bradwardin, Archbishop
of Canterbury, who, from his variety of knowledge and proficiency in the
abstruse branches of learning, obtained his title of Doctor Profundus.
Below this village we glided down this deep and majestic stream, amidst
a rich and fertile country, till we reached Mocca’s Court, the seat of
Sir George Cornwall, Bart. It is pleasantly situated on an eminence, on
the southern bank of the Wye, within a spacious park, and commands a
full and extensive view of the beautiful meanderings of the river.
This place was anciently called Moches, and formed a part of the
possessions of St. Guthlach, in the City of Hereford. The ancient house
stood below the site of the present, which is a modern structure, and
was in part built from the ruin of Bradwardin Castle. In descending
towards Hereford we passed a variety of elegant villas, rich in
situation, and very happily selected as summer residences; amongst these
Belmont, the seat of Dr. Matthews, is peculiarly worthy of attention.
The views from hence, in each direction of the river, are highly
attractive, and art and nature under the guidance of taste, are happily
combined to produce a rich and beautiful effect.