Quitting Monmouth on an excursion to Rhaglan Castle, we ascended a
considerable hill about a mile from the town, that afforded one of the
most luxuriant landscapes we had witnessed in the course of our route.
From this eminence, the rich valley in which Monmouth is situated, and
the beauties of the surrounding country, are highly illustrative of
Gray’s opinion of the charming situation of this place. He rapturously
describes this scene as “the delight of his eyes and the very seat of
pleasure.” We have attempted to give an idea of this much admired spot
in the annexed plate.
The ride to Rhaglan Castle, a distance of about six miles, amply
gratified us for this deviation from our main pursuit.
This magnificent remain of ancient splendor stands on an elevated
situation commonly called Twyn-y-ciros, which signifies in Welch the
cherry hill; and, as we approach it from the village, appears to wear
that solemn and majestic air highly characteristic of the spirit of the
times in which it flourished. The external view here selected, we
flatter ourselves will not only convey the best idea of its extent and
magnificence, but is a point from which we do not remember to have ever
seen it represented. This noble building, which may rather be terminated
a castellated house than a castle, is in many parts, still in good
preservation. It was erected in the reign of Henry VII. and does not
therefore boast of great antiquity; many additions were made to it about
the time of Elizabeth, these constitute, the most elegant parts of this
superb pile, and are to be found in the windows of the grand hall, or
banqueting room; the ornaments of the frieze and cornice are light and
elegant, and in the best taste of that time. To the left of this hall,
was a large court one hundred feet long, and sixty feet broad, well
arched and ornamented, with curious stone work both on the walls and
windows. In the midst of the court was a pleasant marble fountain called
the White Horse: the following remark of Dr. Griffin, relative to the
white horse may not prove uninteresting. “I remember,” says he, “some
years ago, they used to shew here part of the body of a black horse,
which stood in the middle of some water that supplied the castle, and
was a fountain. I was told the parliamentarians poisoned the water
during the siege, and that the stone horse absorbed the poison; it was
very hard, but on being struck, or rubbed with any hard substance,
emitted a very offensive smell. Perhaps I had the legend very
imperfectly, and it should have been added, the poison turned the white
horse into a black one.” The castle is surrounded by a wide fosse thirty
feet broad, wherein was originally placed an artificial water work,
which spouted up water to the height of the castle, and contains within
it two acres, one of which appears to have been encompassed with
domestic offices, such as kitchen, brewhouse, &c. and in which there is
an oven, and fire range of such extraordinary dimensions, as to satisfy
us, that there were times in which they were not wholly occupied in
feats of arms.
In this building every precaution has been used to guard and secure the
approaches to it; and the utmost magnificence is to be observed in every
part of the interior, even in the domestic offices. The staircase and
ascent to the grand apartments are peculiarly noble; and beneath the
areas which are vaulted, are various subterraneous apartments, and
extensive cellars of the most excellent workmanship. The citadel, which
is octagonal, is surrounded by a moat, and stands at a small distance
from the castle: its principal parts are in a perfect state of
preservation. This noble castle is in the possession of the Duke of
Beaufort, whose ancestor, the Marquis of Worcester in the time of
Charles the first, added and fortified many extensive out works, by
which he was enabled to hold it for the king’s use till his imprisonment
at Holmby. It once contained a garrison of eight hundred men, and was
the last castle that surrendered to the parliament forces, then under
the command of Sir Thomas Fairfax. This event happened on the nineteenth
of August 1646, and is reported to have been effected by a female in the
garrison, and by the use of a very ordinary female engine, the mere
waving a handkerchief, as a signal for the introduction of Cromwell’s
party. If this were so, politics were probably by no means the primary
incentives of this lady’s zeal, and there were doubtless secret articles
in this treaty, unknown to the besieging general. The window at which
she appeared is still shewn.
The more probable account is, that from the very long siege it
sustained, the upper part was undermined, and the timbers being burnt a
great part of it fell down. Soon after its surrender, the castle was
demolished and left, in nearly the same state in which it now remains.
The loss to the family is supposed to be upwards of a hundred thousand
pounds, besides the forfeiture of an estate of twenty thousand a year.
Three considerable parks of remarkable fertility, and richly stocked
with deer, once appertained to this castle.
Returning to Monmouth we resumed our passage down the Wye, on a morning,
one of the most beautiful ever beheld. The retrospective view of
Monmouth on passing down, the spire of the church, the town, bridge, and
surrounding scene, though inferior to that above, yet in some respects
exhibited a very picturesque landscape. The hills opposite to Monmouth,
are called the Kemmin Rocks, on the summit of which Mr. Philip Hardwick,
an architect, has erected a stone building for the reception of his
friends, called Philip’s Court. This spot commands a view most extensive
and diversified, and will well repay the labour of climbing up what John
Bunyan would justly call _Hill Difficulty_. To those who visit this spot
it may be worth the trouble of going about a mile further to view,
amongst many others, an immense large rock called the Buck Stone; a name
probably derived from the deer having sheltered themselves under it when
the adjacent country was in the form of a park. Its situation is on the
extreme edge of the hill; and, though of an immense size, it stands on
an angular point, and is so nicely balanced, as to be with a very small
degree of force, set in motion and shaken. Approaching the junction of
the Monnow with the Wye, the side scenes of the river, increase in
richness both of woody, and verdant scenery, and with such agreeable
breaks in the distance as to produce an enchanting effect.
A little below this point, a small river called the Trothe, or Trothey,
unites itself with our Wye, on whose banks they jointly pass, near a
respectable mansion called Troy house, in the possession of the Duke of
Beaufort, to whom it descended from Sir Charles Somerset.
Sir Charles was the third son of Edward Earl of Worcester, and married
the daughter and heiress of Sir William Powell of Troy, by whom he
acquired a considerable estate, and added much influence to the house of
Worcester. The present edifice notwithstanding it was designed by Inigo
Jones, has little that can recommend it to notice. It is used merely as
a lodge, and is occasionally only occupied by the family. A few
portraits decorate its walls, but they are not of consequence sufficient
to take the traveller far out of his way. The cradle wherein Harry of
Monmouth is reported to have been rocked is here exhibited as a great
curiosity, but the freshness of its velvet, its nails and appendages,
bespeak it rather to have been the receptacle of one of the Beaufort
family in the time of Charles the second.
To those however who are fond of cradles (and in their second childhood,
amongst our old lady antiquaries, some such there may be) the annexed
sketch of one, the appearance of which bespeaks it as not unlikely to
have been of that time, and which is in the possession of the Reverend
Mr. Ball of Newlands, a few miles from Monmouth, may not prove an
unacceptable regale.
[Illustration: Black-and-white engraving of a rectangular cradle with
horizontal banding, set between two fluted columns. A bird perches on
top of each column. Four round openings appear along the lower front of
the cradle. The base extends outward on both sides.]
It is made of oak without any covering, and is suspended by two iron
rings, by which it receives motion on the least touch or action of the
child; it is three feet long, one foot four deep, and one foot six wide;
it is ornamented at the top of the supporters, which are octagonal, with
two birds, resembling eagles, but their beaks are broken off. The
following anecdote relative to Troy house, extracted from the “Apothegms
of the Earl of Worcester,” it is presumed will be thought not unworthy a
place in this work.
“Sir Thomas Somerset, brother to the Marquis of Worcester, had a house
which was called Troy, five miles from Rhaglan castle. This Sir Thomas
being a complete gentleman, delighted much in fine gardens and orchards,
where by the benefit of art, the earth was made so grateful to him at
the same time, that the king (Charles the first) happened to be at his
brother’s house, that it yielded him wherewithal to send his brother a
present; and such an one as (the times and the seasons considered) was
able to make the king believe, that the sovereign of the planets had now
changed the poles, and that Wales (the refuse and the outcast of the
fair garden of England) had fairer and riper fruit than England’s bowels
had on all her beds. This present, given to the marquis, he would not
suffer to be presented to the king by any hand but his own. In comes the
marquis then, at the end of the supper, led by the arm, with a slow
pace, expressing much Spanish gravity, with a silver dish in each hand,
filled with rarities; and a little basket on his arm as a reserve, when
making his obeisance he thus speaks: May it please your Majesty, if the
four elements could have been robbed to have entertained your Majesty, I
think I had but done my duty, but I must do as I may. If I had sent to
Bristol for some good things to entertain your Majesty, that would have
been no wonder at all. If I had procured from London, some goodness that
might have been acceptable to your Majesty, that would have been no
wonder. But here I present you, Sir, (placing his dishes upon the table)
with that which came not from Lincoln that was, nor London that is, nor
York that is to be, but from Troy.” Whereupon the king smiled and
answered the marquis; “Truly my Lord, I have heard that corn grows where
Troy town stood; but I never thought there had grown any apricots
before.” Whereupon the marquis replied, “Any thing to please your
Majesty.” When my lord marquis departed the presence, one told him that
he would make a very good courtier; remember well, replied the marquis,
that I said one thing which may give some hopes of me: _Any thing_ to
please your majesty.
Amidst a rich though hilly scenery, beautiful in its forms and happily
diversified by a multitude of small farms, that exhibit evident marks of
improving cultivation in this, yet very improvable, though fertile
country, we reach Redbrook. Here a considerable manufactory of iron and
tin gives a new and pleasing variety to the scenery and bustle on our
river. Some of the iron ore used here comes from Coldford, and other
places in the neighbourhood of the forest of Dean, but the greater part
is brought from Lancashire.
About a mile and a half below Redbrook, the Wye receives a further
supply from a small stream called Whitebrook; about the distance of a
mile from whence stands St. Briaval’s Castle. It is situated on an
eminence, and though so near the river, is from the water too indistinct
an object for the pencil. This is to be regretted, as the woody
declivities on each side of it are beautiful in their forms, and display
a scene uncommonly rich and elegant; but on quitting the boat we found a
nearer view of the castle, well worthy a place in this work, and a
proper ornament of its subject. The annexed sketch exhibits a north east
view of the castle, and the remains of the moat that in part surrounded
it.
The distant Monmouthshire hills form a good termination to the scene,
while the adjoining church and general face of the landscape presents a
view, in its style and character, materially varying from any we have
yet met with. From the remains of this castle it appears to have been a
place of great strength, and of considerable extent; it was built by
Miles, Earl of Hereford, in the reign of King Henry I. whose third son
named Mahel, Camden informs us, was here overtaken by “God’s judgments
for his rapacious ways, inhuman cruelties, and boundless avarice. For
being courteously entertained here by Walter de Clifford, the castle
taking fire, he lost his life by the fall of a stone on his head, from
the highest tower.” The custody of St. Briaval’s, with the Forest of
Dean, was granted to John de Monemouth, in the eighteenth year of King
John. The Earl of Berkeley is the present constable, and the Duke of
Beaufort, under whose direction the castle is kept in a good state of
repair, is lord of the manor. The tower in the west front is now used as
a prison. From hence, the views of the surrounding country are extensive
and beautiful; and here the meandering of the Wye paints the landscape,
as in its general course, and spreads richness and fertility in the
vallies through which it flows. Returning to our boat we passed Big’s
Weir, near which, on the bank of the Wye, is the seat of General Rooke,
whose father captured Gibraltar.
[Illustration:
_S. Ireland del._
_Llandogar._
]
It is situated in the midst of a rich pasturage, and commands a full
view of the river, and that interesting variety of moving objects, which
its busy commerce here presents. Amidst a range of beautiful scenery, we
pass the pleasant village of Llandogar about a mile below. Here the
river forms a smooth and glassy bay, through which the white sailed
vessel is seen constantly gliding, or lying moored on the shore to take
in her freight. The undulating hills, called the Hudnells, form a
beautiful back ground to this charming scene, of which the annexed view
will give a faint idea.
A little below is Cadithil Weir, from whence we dropped pleasantly down
the stream to another village called Brook’s Weir, which is considered a
half way distance from Monmouth to Chepstow. At this place the goods
sent from Monmouth are shipped and conveyed in larger vessels to
Bristol. The river, in an easy meandering course, soon brought us within
view of the most picturesque object on its banks, the splendid and very
elegant ruin of Tintern Abbey,
“These are fair scenes where if art whilom trod,
“Led by the worst of guides fell tyranny,
“And with less superstition, we now trace
“Her footsteps with delight; and pleas’d revere
“What once we should have hated.”
[Illustration:
_S. Ireland del._
_Tintern Abbey._
]
Approaching this sublime and sequestered spot, the enthusiastic lover of
simplicity in art and nature, the admirer of the picturesque and
beautiful, the antiquary and the moralist will feel the effect, as it
were, of enchantment, and become lost almost in a pleasing melancholy.
The steepy hills, the hanging woods, the rolling stream, the nodding
ruin, the surviving monuments of fallen grandeur and beauty in decay;
the constructed space, the stillness and retirement, all conspire to
impress the mind with awe, and for a moment withdraw from its vain
pursuit of wealth and power, and abstract it from the world. On this
remain, a very able writer has remarked, that “were the building ever so
beautiful, encompassed as it is with shabby houses, it could make no
appearance from the river.” In this we essentially differ, and present
the annexed view in support of our opinion. Here every cottage appears
as it really exists on the spot; and the petty, or if you please paltry
accompaniments to which he alludes, appear to us so far from diminishing
the grandeur of the general effect, that they serve rather on the
contrary as a scale, and give magnitude to the principal object.
The ruined windows, pillars, and mouldings are all of them very elegant
specimens of the most perfect style of Gothic architecture. That wreck
and desolation to which the revolution of opinion, the wasteful rapacity
and tyranny of Henry, had subjected this lovely spot, would have
presented only marks of violence, and under the pretence of religion,
the ravaging arm of an unprincipled barbarian. It is to the gentler
tyranny, the silent and progressive ravages, of time, that we owe many
of those delicate touches and features of beauty that embellish this
elegant and interesting ruin. These have contributed to soften down the
sharper edges of the chissel, and, by blending its variegated tufts of
moss, and spreading and overhanging with its loose drapery, and many
tinted greens, the highly wrought ornaments and sculpture of the place,
have given to the whole a richness and mellowness, far beyond the reach
of art.
The small gothic Gate at the entrance from the water, was evidently an
adjunct of the abbey, and the remaining small buildings adjoining,
formed part of its out-offices. The abbey was founded A. D. 1131, by
Walter de Clare, for monks of the Cistercian order; and dedicated to
Saint Mary. About the time of the revolution, here were thirteen
religious houses, whose estates were estimated according to Dugdale at
one hundred and ninety-two pounds, one shilling and four pence per
annum. The site was granted in the twenty-eighth of Henry the VIII. to
Henry Earl of Worcester, from whom it has descended to the present Duke
of Beaufort.
On entering this sublime ruin the mind is struck with a reverential and
religious awe: a sensation which can be no more expressed by words, than
it can in this full extent be excited by all the graces of Grecian
proportions, and all the decencies of orthodox worship. The noble
clustered columns form a beautiful scene in perspective; and, while some
of the rich Gothic ornaments and pointed arches above, present
themselves as if magically suspended, and raise an idea of grandeur,
accompanied, if not with alarm with some degree of surprise, the various
ruinated fragments of capitals and pillars below, which lie scattered
indiscriminately and in part overgrown and buried in beds of wild
flowers and verdant tendrils, create an interesting disorder, and
suggest ideas, though perhaps of a melancholy tinge, yet so far from a
distressing nature as to lull the mind to a repose, congenial to the
general turn of the surrounding scenery.
[Illustration:
_S. Ireland del._
_Interior of Tintern Abbey._
]
The smooth and trim manner in which the ground is here kept, is not,
according to our conception, very much in unison with the assemblage of
objects around, where brokenness and irregularity are the principal and
leading features of the place, the tameness and uniformity produced by
it, are incongruous and out of character.
The western window, although in point of proportion rather too wide for
its height, is yet a curious specimen of the ancient Gothic, and no
contemptible study for one who is smitten with a true passion for the
antique. The roof of the building is entirely fallen in, and with it
some of the pillars are lost, but their bases still remain above the
surface of the ground, so as to enable the antiquary, if he has the
least of the architect about him, very easily to give a ground plot of
the whole.
In the middle of the nave, the lofty arches which once supported the
steeple, rise high above the rest; but though they retain their forms,
they are reduced to a mere ridge of stone.
The neighbouring iron works belonging to Mr. Tanner of Monmouth, will
afford a different scene, and should be visited by every traveller. Here
the quiet and repose of the cottage is happily contrasted by the
activity and bustle of the forge.
In passing along the river side to the iron works, many beautiful
passages in landscape present themselves; they are composed of woody and
diversified hills, similar to those adjoining to the abbey, but
heightened by the busy scenes of the labourer and artificer, constantly
employed in the adjacent manufactory. The iron works are principally
supplied from Furness in Lancashire with ore, which is dissolved by the
blasts of immense bellows that are worked by means of cylinder pumps.
The best qualities of the ore are separated from the dross by a water
wheel and hammers, by which operation considerable quantities of pure
metal are collected, and the powder is sold to the glass houses. Various
forges are here contrived for the purpose of forming the mutilated ore
into proper sizes, from the largest bar of iron, to the smallest wire.