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, from this circumstance,

than the accommodations the inn offers. 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: {288} 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 {289}

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 Yatch 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. {290}

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 Yatch, will take the boat round the circuit of five miles, and

meet them at New Wier, 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 Yatch, 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 Wier 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 council, 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.

Below the New Weir a continuation of the same rich scenery still arrested

our attention, and rocks and wood seemed to contend which should be most

conspicuous; till the winding of the river round Doward’s Rock, on which

was formerly a Roman station, brought us under the house of Mr. Hatley,

which commands a view of the river as far as Monmouth, when it is

terminated by the town, and bridge of six arches. As we drew near