About two miles from Abergavenny is WERNDEE, a poor patched-up house:
though once a mansion of no less magnificence than antiquity, it is now
only interesting as being considered to have been the spot where the
prolific Herbert race was first implanted in Britain. Henry de Herbert,
chamberlain to king Henry the First, is supposed to have been their great
ancestor. Of the vast possessions that formerly supported the grandeur
of the Herberts, the inheritance of Mr. Proger, the last lineal
descendant from the elder branch of this family, who died about twenty
years since, had dwindled to less than two hundred a year. Mr. Coxe
relates an anecdote of this gentleman's pride of ancestry, which may be
compared with the remarks on Perthir; {313} at the same time, it conveys
a brief outline of the family's genealogy.
Mr. Proger accidentally met a stranger near his house, who made various
enquiries respecting the prospects and local objects of the situation;
and at length demanded, "Pray, whose is this antique mansion before
us?"--"That, Sir, is Werndee: a very ancient house; for _out_ of it
_came_ the earls of Pembroke of the first line, and the earls of Pembroke
the second line; the lords Herbert of Cherbury, the Herberts of
Coldbrook, Rumney, Cardiff, and York; the Morgans of Acton; the earl of
Hunsdon; the Jones's of Treowen and Lanarth, and all the Powells. _Out_
of this house also, by the female line, _came_ the dukes of
Beaufort."--"And pray, Sir, who lives there now?"--"I do, Sir."--"Then
pardon me, Sir--do not lose sight of all these prudent examples; but
_come out_ of it yourself; or 'twill tumble and crush you."
A principal excursion from Abergavenny is that which leads northward to
Lanthony abbey, a majestic ruin seated in a deep recess of the Black
mountains, at the very extremity of the county. The first part of the
route lies through a romantic pass between the Skyridd and Sugar-loaf
mountains, upon the Hereford turnpike. Proceeding about two miles, the
church of Landeilo Bertholly appears on the right; and not far from it an
antique mansion called the White-house, a residence of the Floyers.
Another ancient house occurs at the village of Llanvihangel Crickhornell,
seen through groves of firs, lately a seat of the Arnolds, but now
occupied as a farm-house. From this spot a ditch-like road, almost
impracticable for carriages, strikes off among the mountains,
"Through tangled forests, and through dang'rous ways,"
carried upon precipices impendent over the brawling torrent of the Hondy.
Sometimes the road opens to scenes of the most romantic description,
where, at an immense depth beneath, the torrent is seen raging in a bed
of rocks, and mountains of the most imposing aspect rise from the
valley,--
"The nodding horrors of whose shady brows
Threat the forlorn and wand'ring traveller."
Immediately to the left of the road rises the Gaer, a huge rocky hill
crowned with an ancient encampment. On the opposite side of the river,
fearfully hanging on a steep cliff, and beneath a menacing hill bristled
with innumerable craigs, is the romantic village of CWMJOY. Landscapes
of the boldest composition would be continual, but that the road, formed
into a deep hollow, and overtopped by hedge-row elms, excludes the
traveller from almost every view but that of his embowered track. The
pedestrian, however, is at liberty, while ranging among heaths and fields
above the road, to enjoy the wild grandeur of the country, which will
hardly fail to repay him for his additional toil.
In the deep gloomy vale of Ewias, encircled by the barren summits of the
Black mountains, but enjoying some degree of local cultivation, and
enlivened by the crystalline Hondy, is situated the ruin of LANTHONY
ABBEY.
[Picture: Lanthony Abbey]
Venerable and grand, but wholly devoid of ornament, it partakes of the
character of the surrounding scenery. Not a single tendril of ivy
decorates the massive walls of the structure, and but a sprinkling of
shrubs and light branchy trees fringe the high parapets, or shade the
broken fragments beneath.
"Where rev'rend shrines in Gothic grandeur stood,
The nettle or the noxious night-shade spreads;
And ashlings, wafted from the neighbouring wood,
Through the worn turrets wave their trembling heads."
The area of the church is not very extensive; the length is 212 feet; the
breadth 50; and it measures 100 across the transepts. The roof has long
since fallen in, and a great part of the south wall is now a prostrate
ruin; but the view afforded of the interior, in consequence, is extremely
grand and picturesque. A double row of pointed arches, reposing on
massive piers, separate the side ailes from the nave; above which,
divided from the Gothic form by a strait band of fascia, is a series of
small circular arches: an intermixture and arrangement of the two forms
that characterize the earliest use of Gothic architecture. Two lofty
arches, rising from the middle of the church, still sustain a massive
portion of the tower, whose doubtfully poised and ponderous bulk
seriously menaces the adventurous explorer of the ruin. The grandeur of
the western front cannot be passed unnoticed; nor, looking over the
fragments of the choir, the fine view of the inside ruin, seen through
the great eastern arch of the tower; neither is a small chapel adjoining
the south transept, with a well-formed engrained roof, to be neglected:
the transept is remarkable for a large Norman archway that led into the
south aile of the choir.
Many portions of building appear in detached heaps near the abbey church,
particularly a bold arch in a neighbouring barn, which seems to have
formed the principal entrance to the abbey. Among these the natives
point out a low subterraneous passage, faced with hewn stone, which they
suppose to have had a connexion with Old Castle, about three miles
distant.
St. David, the uncle of king Arthur (say ancient legends), was so struck
with this sequestered recess, then almost unconscious of a human
footstep, that he built a chapel on the spot, and passed many years in it
as a hermit. William, a retainer of the earl of Hereford's in the reign
of William Rufus, being led into the valley in pursuit of a deer, espied
the hermitage. The deep solitude of the place, and the mysterious
appearance of the building, conspired to fill him with
religious-enthusiasm; and he instantly disclaimed all worldly enjoyments
for a life of prayer and mortification.
In a curious account of the abbey, written by one of its monks, which is
preserved in Dugdale's Monasticon, and translated into English by Atkyns,
in his History of Gloucestershire, it is recorded, that "He laid aside
his belt and girded himself with a rope; instead of fine linen, he
covered himself with hair-cloth; and instead of his soldier's robe, he
loaded himself with weighty irons. The suit of armour, which before
defended him from the darts of his enemies, he still wore as a garment to
harden him against the soft temptations of his old enemy Satan; that, as
the outward man was afflicted by austerity, the inner-man might be
secured for the service of God. That his zeal might not cool, he thus
crucified himself, and continued this hard armour on his body until it
was worn out with rust and age."
His austerity of life, and sanctity, not only drew to him a colleague
(Ernesi, chaplain to Maud wife of Henry the First), but excited the
reverence of many high characters, and induced Hugh de Laci, earl of
Hereford, to found a priory of regular canons of the order of St. Austin
on the site of the Hermitage. The institution adopted William's
mortifying system, and its reputation occasioned numerous donations to be
offered; but they were constantly refused, and the acquisition of wealth
deprecated as a dreadful misfortune. William was determined "to dwell
poor in the house of God." The monk of Lanthony comically relates, that
"Queen Maud, not sufficiently acquainted with the sanctity and
disinterestedness of William, once desired permission to put her hand
into his bosom; and when he with great modesty submitted to her
importunity, she conveyed a large purse of gold between his coarse shirt
and iron boddice; and thus by a pleasant and innocent subtlety
administered some comfortable relief to him. But oh the wonderful
contempt of the world! He displayed a rare example, that the truest
happiness consists in possessing little or nothing! He complied, indeed,
but unwillingly, and only with a view that the queen might employ her
devout liberality in adorning the church." His scruples thus overcome, a
new church on a more magnificent plan was erected (that which now
appears); it soon displayed the usual pomp of the craft, and in less than
thirty years the monks came to one opinion, that "the outward man"
deserved consideration; that the "place was unfit for a reasonable
creature, much less for religious persons:" nay some said, that "they
wished every stone of the foundation, "a stout hare;" others, still more
wicked, "that every stone was at the bottom of the sea." Hence, in the
year 1136, we find a new Lanthony abbey built and consecrated near
Gloucester, which, although at first only a cell to our abbey, soon
assumed a priority over the parent foundation. The treasures, library,
rich vestments, and even bells, were removed to the new house: the old
Lanthony then came to be considered as a prison by the fat monks of the
Severn, who sent thither only "their old and useless members."
In doleful mood the monk complains, "We are made the scum and outcast of
the brethren."--"They permitted the monastery to be reduced to such
poverty, that the friars were without surplices, and compelled to perform
the duties of the church against the customs and rules of the order.
Sometimes they had no breeches, and could not attend divine service."
Thus it appears, that eventually the condition of the monks, though sore
against their wills, reverted to the intention of their founder. The
monastery continued in this unthriving state till the dissolution of
those concerns; when, according to Dugdale, the abbey near Gloucester was
valued at 648_l._ 19_s._ 11_d._ and this in Monmouthshire at 71_l._ 3_s._
2_d._
OLDCASTLE, a little village on the eastern slope of the Black mountains
which skirt the vale of Ewias on the right, is supposed by Gale and
Stukeley to have been the ancient Blestium, but upon grounds that are
very inconclusive: true it is, however, that several encampments near the
spot wear a Roman character, and they were in the habit of raising such
camps near their station. But the place is more noticed as having been
the residence of Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, the companion of Henry
the Fifth, and afterwards chief of the Lollards, and martyr to their
religious views. His ancient mansion, called the court-house, was taken
down about thirty years ago; so that nothing now remains to satisfy the
antiquary.
But the picturesque traveller will hardly fail of a lively interest,
while, traversing the superior heights of the neighbouring mountains, he
views the grand extent of the Monmouthshire wilds, and traces the
different combinations of its majestic hills, which in some parts range
into the most sinuous forms, in others extend for many miles into direct
longitudinal ridges; or, when, withdrawing from the sterile dignity of
the high lands, his eye gratefully reposes on the gentle vallies that
sweep beneath their brows, enlivened by glistening streams, and rich in
all the luxuriance of high cultivation.