be observed that the majority of these baronial mansions are situated
on, or near, the bank of some navigable river, for the purpose of
defending some important pass or fortress, by means of which the
carriage of stone is attended with comparatively little expense or
trouble; but in the present instance, there is no navigable river nearer
than the Wye, from which the Castle is distant at Monmouth ten, and at
Chepstow twelve miles.[239] And what is very remarkable, there is no
quarry in the neighbourhood from which the stone employed in building
the Castle could have been procured. It is of a light grey colour, and
very hard; but the name of the quarter from which it was taken is still
a matter of vague conjecture. No such stone as that used for the
chimney-pieces of Raglan is now to be found in Monmouthshire. Such is
the neatness and exactness with which the facing stones are laid, that
they exhibit the same perfect appearance as if the artist had but just
left the scaffold. “The bricks which compose the south wall are
extremely well baked, and of a quality not less durable than that of the
stone.”
In the present day, we can form but a very imperfect notion of the
extent to which the original outworks were carried. When the demesnes of
ancient families are let out as farms, the tenant soon brings about a
revolution of ancient purposes. He adapts the whole to modern uses--to
whatever will best enable him to pay his rent. He calculates how many
bushels of potatoes will grow on the slope; how much the lawn will yield
to the plough, how much to pasturage; and how much grass may be annually
shorn from the old Bowling-green.
So has it fared with the renowned fortress of Raglan.[240] With little
interest in its history, little reverence for its ancient lords, every
successive tenant, during a long series of years, has only studied how
to turn it to the best advantage. Its ancient gardens have been
obliterated; its lawns converted into pasture; its fountains, streams,
and fish-ponds have been dried up; its materials carted away to erect
some farmer’s homestead; its walls, that so stoutly resisted the enemy’s
shot, and returned it with interest, seem to feel their degradation, and
strive to hide it under a mantle of ivy.[241] Now, however, the grounds
are kept in good order; while every feature and fragment of the
venerable ruin are preserved with exemplary care by the resident warden,
who happily possesses a taste for archæology.
The accompanying <g>ground-plan</g> will enable the reader to trace the various
apartments of the <g>Castle</g> in the same order in which they are described,
and to follow with more interest the details of the <g>Siege</g>, upon which we
are now to enter.
[Illustration:
1 Keep, or Yellow Tower.
2 Chambers destroyed in the Siege.
3 Great Hall.
4 Parlour, or small Dining-Room.
5 Kitchen.
6 Gateway and Staircase.
7 Galleries and State-Rooms.
8 Chapel.
9 Gateway leading to the Bowling-Green.
10 Spot formerly crossed by a bridge.
11 Breach made during the Siege.
12 On the upper story is King <g>Charles’</g> window.
13 Moat surrounding the <g>Keep</g>.
]
“Our Donjon-tower is stout and tall,
Each rampart mann’d and steady;
And loyal hearts, from every wall,
Shout--‘_Roundheads!_ we are ready!’
Then here’s a health to <g>Charles</g> our King;
And eke to noble <g>Worcester</g>!
To each, to-morrow’s fight shall bring
New loyalty and lustre!
Then hoist the Royal Standard high!
And crown our <g>Chief</g> with laurels!
And where’s the man that would not die
In combating for <g>Charles</g>?” &c. &c.
We have next to take a brief survey of that portion of the Revolutionary
movements, with which the history of <g>Raglan</g> and its loyal garrison are
so closely associated.
“The Parliament had now,” says Lord Clarendon, “such footing in
Pembrokeshire, that many of the principal gentlemen had declared for
them; and the harbour of Milford Haven gave their fleet opportunity to
give them all supplies and relief.” This being the state of those parts,
<g>The Lord Herbert</g>, eldest son of the Marquess of Worcester, not only
offered but desired to receive that command, and engaged himself “not
only to secure it from the opposition and malignity of the other party;
but before the spring to raise such a strength of horse and foot, and to
provide such an equipage to march with, that might reduce Gloucester,
and then be added to the King’s army when he should be ready to take the
field. And all this so much at his own charge, for his father, the
Marquess, who was well able, would furnish the money--as was pretended
upon the King’s promise to repay him when he should be restored to his
own--that he would receive no part of the King’s revenue, or of such
money as his Majesty could be able to draw for the supply of his own
more immediate occasions.”
This was a very great offer, and such as no man else could so reasonably
make: for “the Marquess of Worcester was generally reputed the greatest
mony’d man in the kingdom; and probably might not think it an unthrifty
thing rather to disburse it for the King--who might be able to repay
it--than to have it taken from him by the other party; which would be
hardly questioned if they prevailed.”[242]
The Lord Herbert himself “was a man of more than ordinary affection for
the King; and one who, he was sure, would not betray him. For his
religion, it might work upon himself, but would not disquiet other men.
For though he were a Papist, he was never like to make others so; and
his reputation and interest were very great with many gentlemen of those
counties, who were not at all friends to his religion. It was to be
hoped that the old grudges and prejudices, which had been rather against
the house of Worcester and the Popish religion professed there, than
against the person of their lord, would have been composed, and declined
by his fair and gentle carriage towards all men--as of truth he was of a
civil and obliging nature--and by the public-heartedness of those who,
for the Cause and conscience’ sake would, it was hoped, sacrifice all
trivial and private contentions to a union that must vindicate the
religion, honour, and justice of the kingdom. Upon these reasons and
these presumptions, the King granted such a commission as is
before-mentioned to the Lord Herbert; who, with more expedition than was
expected by many, or by others believed possible, raised a body of above
fifteen hundred foot, and near five hundred horse, very well and
sufficiently armed, which increased the merit of the service.”[243]
Of the royalist army, raised and paid by the Marquess of Worcester, the
command of the infantry was given to Major-General Lawley; that of the
cavalry to Lord John Somerset, his second son; while Lord Herbert took
the field as Commander-in-chief. Immediately on its being ascertained
that Monmouth had declared for the Parliament, Lord Herbert placed
himself at the head of a body of troops, and, joined by a party of
volunteers from Goodrich, placed them behind a rising ground near the
town. Here, with about forty intrepid followers, he proceeded to
reconnoitre the enemy’s position, and surmounting an earthen mound which
they had thrown up, he passed the ditch, and put the guard to the sword.
They next succeeded in breaking the port chain and forced an entrance
for the cavalry; then, joining their comrades, they entered the town at
full gallop, and, surrounding the main guard, made them prisoners. “The
result of this expedition was the capture of Col. Broughton, four
captains, four lieutenants and ensigns, the republican committee, and
all the private soldiers, with a considerable quantity of arms and
ammunition.”
<g>Raglan Castle</g> by this time had been put into a state of thorough
defence, with a garrison of eight hundred men, many distinguished
officers, and all the necessaries for maintaining a long and vigorous
resistance. The Marquess himself--then on the verge of
fourscore--infused by his presence and conversation an invincible spirit
of loyalty into the garrison; and provisioned as it was, the place might
well be viewed as almost impregnable.
The clashing exploit of Lord Herbert, however, was speedily followed by
a mortifying reverse; for as the <g>King’s</g> army was on its march to
Gloucester, it was met near Coleford by a rabble force of disaffected
peasantry, whose object was to obstruct the Royalists in their passage
through the Forest of Dean; and a scuffle ensuing, Colonel Lawley, the
captain-in-chief, was mortally wounded by a stone.[244] But order being
restored, and Colonel Brett taking the command, the Royalists continued
their march until arriving on the right bank of the Severn, they threw
up defences at the “Vineyard”--the Bishop’s palace--and there fixed
their quarters. But in the meantime, Sir William Waller, who was then
with a regiment of horse on the borders of Worcestershire, put himself
in motion, and by forced marches took up his position in front of the
Royalists. This sudden apparition threw them into a panic; for,
considering themselves in their newly-fortified position quite secure
from all danger of surprise, Lord Herbert had gone to wait upon the <g>King</g>
at Oxford; while his brother, Lord John, who commanded the horse, had
set out with two or three troops on a reconnoitering party; so that no
officer of skill or authority was left to direct or head the forces.
All, therefore, was instant confusion in the camp; for, although their
position was strong, well supplied with cannon, and certainly not to be
stormed by any amount of cavalry that could be brought against them, yet
they abandoned all thoughts of defence, and without striking a blow,
surrendered to the first summons from Waller, on the simple grant of
quarter.
This unexpected disaster was a death-blow to the army of Worcester; “the
raising of which was considered such an effort on the part of the
<g>Marquess</g>, that it could hardly have been accomplished by any other
nobleman in the realm.” That “mushroom army grew up and perished so
soon, that the loss of it was scarce apprehended at Oxford, because the
strength, or rather the numerical force, was not understood. But had the
money,” as Lord Clarendon observes, “that was laid out in raising and
paying a body of men, who never in the least degree advanced the royal
interest, been brought into the King’s receipt at Oxford, and employed
to the most advantage, the war might have been ended the next summer;
for I have heard the Lord Herbert say, that those preparations, and
others which by that defeat were rendered useless, cost above three
score thousand pounds; the greatest part of which”--an enormous sum in
those times--“was advanced by his father, the Marquess of
Worcester.”[245] We now proceed to notice the
<g>Royal Visit to Raglan</g>, which in its loyal devotion remained unshaken by
these reverses; and the following anecdote gives us a favourable idea of
the good humour, combined with courtly magnificence, with which Lord
Worcester entertained the King on his first visit to the Castle. We
relate the anecdote on the authority of the family Chaplain:--
“Sir Thomas Somerset, brother to the Marquess, had a house which they
called Troy--the principal residence of the Duke of Beaufort--within
five miles of Raglan Castle. Sir Thomas Somerset being a neate man, both
within and without his house, as he was a complete gentleman of himself
every way, delighted very much in fine gardens and orchards, and in
replenishing and ordering them with all the varieties of choicest fruits
that could be got, and in defending his new plantations from the
coldness of the climate by the benefit of art. The earth, that was so
much made of, proved so grateful to him, that, at the same time that
the King happened to be at his brother’s house at Raglan, it yielded him
wherewithal to send his brother Worcester such a present, as at that
time of the year and place, was able to make the King and all his lords
believe that the Sovereign of the Planets, with all his prime electors,
had new changed the Poles; and that <g>Wales</g>, the refuse and outcast of the
fair garden of England, had fairer and riper fruit growing upon her
stone rubbish, than England’s levels had in all her beds. This,
presented to the Marquess, he could not suffer to be presented to the
King by any other hands except his own. In comes the Marquess, at the
latter end of supper, led by the arm, having such a goodly presence with
him, that his being led became him, rather like some ceremony of state,
than shew of impotence; and his slow pace, occasioned by his infirmity,
expressed a Spanish gravity, rather than feebleness. Thus, with a silver
dish in each hand filled with rarities, and a little basket upon his
arm, as a supply, in case his Majesty should be over bountiful of his
favours to the ladies that were standers by, he makes his third
obeysance and thus speaks:--
“‘May it please your Majesty, if the four elements could have been rob’d
to have entertained your Majesty, I think I had done my duty; but I must
do as I may. If I had sent to Bristol for some good things to entertain
your Majesty, there had been no wonder at all. If I had procured from
London some goodnesse that might have been acceptable to your Majesty,
that had been no wonder indeed. But here I present your
Majesty’--placing his dishes upon the table--‘with what neither came
from Lincoln that was, nor London that is, nor York that is to be;[246]
but I assure your Majesty that this present came from <g>Troy</g>.’ Whereupon
the King smiled, and answered the Marquess--‘Truly, my lord, I have
heard that corne[247] now growes where Troy town once stood; but I never
thought there had grown any apricocks there before.’ Whereupon the
Marquess replied--‘Anything to please your Majesty.’
“The fruit was very much admired by every one, and it was acknowledged
by all that were in the presence at that time, that they never saw the
King served in greater state in all their lives. There were some about
the King who followed my Lord Marquess when he departed the presence,
and told his lordship that he would make a very good courtier. ‘Aye,’
said the Marquess, ‘I remember I said one thing that may give you some
hopes of me--Anything to please your Majesty.’”
Of the Marquess’s farther proficiency in the art and mystery of a
courtier, during the royal visit, we find this specimen:--
“The Marquess had a mind to tell the King, as handsomely as he could, of
some of his, as he thought, _faults_; and thus he continues his plot:
Against the time that his Majesty was wont to give his lordship a visit,
as commonly he used to do after dinner, his lordship had the book of
John Gower lying before him on the table. The King casting his eye upon
the book, told the Marquess he had never seen it before. ‘Oh!’ said the
Marquis, ‘it is the book of books, which if your Majesty had been well
versed in, it would have made you a king of kings.’ ‘Why so, my Lord?’
said the King. ‘Why,’ said the Marquess, ‘here is set down how Aristotle
brought up and instructed Alexander the Great in all the rudiments and
principles belonging to a prince.’ And under the persons of Alexander
and Aristotle, he read the King such a lesson, that all the standers by
were amazed at his boldness; and the King supposing that he had gone
farther than his text would have given him leave, asked the Marquess,
‘If he said his lesson by _heart_, or whether he spoke out of the book?’
The Marquess replied, ‘Sir, if you could read my heart, it may be you
might find it there; or, if your Majesty please to get it by heart, I
will lend you my book.’ Which latter proffer the King accepted of, and
did borrow it. ‘Nay,’ said the Marquess, ‘I will lend it you upon these
conditions: First, That you read it; secondly, That you make use of it.’
But perceiving how that some of the new-made lords fretted, and bit
their thumbs at certain passages in the Marquess’s discourse, he thought
a little to please his Majesty, though he pleased not them, the men who
were so much displeased already protesting unto his Majesty, that no man
was so much for the absolute power of a king as Aristotle. Desiring the
book out of the King’s hand, he told the King that he would show him one
remarkable passage to that purpose, turning to that place that had this
verse:--
“A king can kill, a king can save,
A king can make a lord a knave,
And of a knave a lord also,” &c.
“Whereupon there were divers new-made lords who slunk out of the roome,
which the King observing, told the Marquess--‘My lord, at this rate, you
will drive away all my Nobility!’
“The Marquess replied--‘I protest unto your Majesty, I am as new a made
lord as any of them all;[248] but I was never called knave and rogue so
much in all my life, as I have been since I received this last honour,
and why should not they bear their shares?’”
But the Marquess, like many of the King’s party, seems to have wanted
that undoubting confidence of success, which not unfrequently secures
it. How different from the determined tone of a Cromwell is this:--“When
the King first entered the gates of Raglan, the Marquess delivered his
Majesty the keys, according to the ordinary custom; the King restoring
of them to the Marquis, the Marquis said, ‘I beseech your Majesty to
keep them, and you please, for they are in a good hand; but I am afraid
that ere it be long, I shall be forced to deliver them into the hands of
those who will spoil the compliment.’” And so it happened.
The plans taken by the King, while residing in Raglan Castle, to
persuade the Marquess of Worcester to farther advances of money, afford
a subject for a humiliating chapter in the royal history. The aged
Marquess had three ruling principles--loyalty to the King, attachment to
the Roman Catholic religion, and fondness for money. His loyalty had
been already extensively drawn upon, and there remained now to be tried
an attempt upon his proselytizing zeal. He had now to be flattered with
the idea that he might possibly persuade the King to profess the tenets
of his ancestors. Charles, indeed, had not made great progress in
Protestant doctrines; and the Marquess, confident in his theological
powers, imagined he would find an easy convert. Here is Dr. Bayly’s
account of the matter:--
“Thus affected was that noble and, indeed, in his way, heavenly
disposed, Henry, late Marquess of Worcester, to play the greatest prize
that ever was played between any two that ever entered within those
lists. Three diadems were to encounter with the tripple crowne, and the
tripple crowne with three sceptres. Opportunity, that lucky gamester,
that hardly loses a game in twenty, was on the Marquess’ side; time and
place directed him how to take points in his own tables; the King at
that time being in the Marquess’s own house at Raglan, and necessitated
to borrow money to buy bread, after so great a loss in battle. The King
being thus put to play the aftergame with the old Marquess, was a little
mistrustful that he had not played the foregame with him so well, as
that he had not thereby prejudiced the latter: for, though the Marquess
and his son were the two ablest and most forward’st shoulderers up of
the declining throne, especially the chip of the old block, whose
disposition expressed itself most noble in not caring who had loved the
King, so that he might be but permitted to love Alexander; whom he
affected not only with the loyal respects of a subject towards his
soveraigne, but also with such passionate ways of expressions and
laboriousnesse in all good offices, as are wont to be predominant in
those in whom simpathy is the only ground of their affections; yet there
were not wanting some kind of men who made the averseness of this
nobleman’s religion an occasion of improving their own envies. Which,
though it could never lose him the least ground in his master’s good
opinion of him--who never would judge no more a saint by his face than a
devil by his feet, but both according to their several ingagements--yet
there were some things which happened, as having relation to this
family, which were not altogether pleasing. However, though his Majesty
came thither ushered by necessity, yet he came neither unwelcomed nor
uninvited; and entertained as if he had been more than a king, by reason
of some late atchievements, rather than otherwise: and though money came
from him like drops of blood, yet he was contented that every drop
within his body should be let out at his command, so that he might
performe so meritorious a piece of worke as, he thought, the being an
instrument of bringing the father of his country to be the son of his
church, would be unto his soul’s health. The Marquess having these
resolutions within himselfe, thought to give them breath at the same
time that his Majesty should make his motion for a further supply of
money, which he daily and hourly expected; but was deceived in his
expectations; for the relation having already reach’d the King’s ear,
how an accident had made me no less fortunate to his lordship, than in
being the means of preserving his lordship’s person, and no
inconsiderable fortune then in the same venture with him; and how that I
preserved both the one and the other, in concealing both, for the space
that the moon useth to be twice in riding of her circuit,[249] (the
particulars hereof, here to insert, would tend rather to much arrogance
than any purpose, wherefore I further forbear,) until such time as the
trust which Providence had reposed in me was crowned by the same hand
with such successe as brought the Marquess safe to his own house in
peace; which I had no sooner brought to passe, but the Marquess drew
from me a solemn engagement never to leave him so long as we both should
live; which I was so careful for to observe, that I neither left him in
life nor death, faire weather nor foule, until such time as he left me,
and I laid him under the ground in Windsor Castle, in the sepulchre of
his fathers.”
The author of the notice of the Marquess of Worcester in “Lodge’s
Portraits,” says, that “the adventure here alluded to by Dr. Bayly is
and must remain unknown.” It is, however, made sufficiently clear in the
“First Apophthegm,” where Bayly tells us that he met the Marquess in the
Welsh mountains, “flying a danger with a softer pace than it made after
him.” Bayly, whose knowledge of the country must necessarily have been
great, had it in his power to conceal the Marquess. This was their first
meeting, and they ever after were inseparable. In nearly the words
already used, Bayly in this passage also says, “From which time
forward, until the time that I laid him in his grave in Windsor Castle,
I never parted from him.”
He continues--“And it was a strange thing, that during the time that I
was thus a bond-servant to his lordship, which was for the space of
twelve monethes thrice told, the difference in religion never wrought
the least difference in his disposals of trusts of the highest nature
upon me; but his speeches often shewed his heart, and his often lending
me his ear, that they were both as much mine as any man’s. Of which, it
seems, his Majesty being informed, I must be the beetle-head that must
drive this wedge into the royall stock; and was also told, that no man
could make a divorce between the Babilonish garment and the wedge of
gold sooner than myself. To be brief--I was ingaged in the business; I
could neither deny the employment, nor well tell how to go about it, I,
not knowing the Marquess’ drift all this while, thought the Marquess had
feared nothing more than what I myself was most afraid of, viz., that I
should be made an instrument to let the same horse bleed, whom the King
himself had found so free, that he was unwilling to give him the least
touch with his spur. Howsoever, I went about it, and thus began to tell
his lordship:--‘My Lord, the thing that I feared is now fallen upon me;
I am made the unwelcome messenger of bad news--the King wants money!’ At
which word the Marquess interrupted me, saying, ‘Hold, sir, that’s no
news; go on with your business.’ ‘My Lord,’ said I, ‘there is one
comfort yet, that as the King is brought low, so are his demands; and,
like his army, are come down from thousands to hundreds: and from paying
the souldiers of his army to buying bread for himself and his followers.
My Lord, it is the King’s own expression, and his desire is but three
hundred pound.’ Whereupon my Lord made a long pause before he gave me
one word of answer. I knew by experience that in such cases it was best
leaving him to himself, and to let that nature, which was so good, worke
itselfe into an act of the highest charity--like the diamond, which is
only pollished with its own dust. At last he called me nearer to him,
and asked me, ‘If the King himself had spoken to me concerning any such
business?’ To which I answered, ‘That the King himself had not; but
others did in the King’s hearing.’ Whereupon he said, ‘Might I but speak
unto him--but I was never thought worthy to be consulted with, though in
matters meerly concerning the affaires of my own country--I would supply
his wants, were they never so great, or whatsoever they were.’ Whereupon
I told his lordship that, ‘If the King knew as much, he might quickly
speak with him.’ Then said the Marquess, ‘The way to have him know so
much is to have somebody to tell him of it.’ I asked his lordship, ‘If
he would give me leave to be the informer.’ He told me, ‘He spake it to
the same purpose.’ I hastened from him, with as much feare of being
called back again, as I did towards the King, with a longing desire of
giving his Majesty so good an account of my so much doubted embassie.
“Half going and half running through the gallerie, I was stopt in my way
by one Lieutenant-Collonel Lyllard, who told me, that if ever I had a
mind to do my Lord Marquess and the garrison any good, now was the time:
for even now one of the King’s ships had run herself on ground under the
town of Chepstow. Calling unto me the captain of her (one Captain Hill),
who related unto me that upon the surrender of Bristol he was forced to
fly into the sanctuary of the King’s quarters, having formerly revolted
from the Parliament, or rather returned to her due obedience. Telling
me, moreover, that she was fraught with store of goods and rich
commodities, as sugar, tobacco, linnen of all sorts, &c., and that the
law in such a case appropriated the King to such a part of her lading;
which I better understood then than I can relate unto you now; and that
she had many fair brass and iron guns in her, with proportionable
ammunition, usefull for the garrison; and that, for a word of speaking,
I might have all this of the King for the use of the garrison. I
(considering that it would be nevertheless the King’s for being
converted to such an use, as also the business I was about) made no
doubt but that I could easily beg all this for the Marquess, in
consideration of the great charges his lordship had been at in
entertaining his Majesty so long. Neither was I deceived, for the King
granted it willingly.
“But as to the matter in hand, I told his Majesty apart, that I had
moved his lordship in matter of money; but found him a little
discouraged, in regard that his Majestie having been twice at Raglan a
moneth at a time, and that at neither of those times he ever vouchsafed
his lordship so much honour as once to call him to councel, though it
was in his own house, and must needs be acknowledged to be one who knew
the countrey, and the constitution of the inhabitants, better than any
other man that was about his Majestie had reason to understand.
Wherefore I told the King, I thought his lordship leant my motion a
deffer ear than he would have done, if his lordship had not been thought
so uselesse a creature; and that I perceived his lordship had a desire
to have some conference with his Majestie; which being obtained, I
believed his Majestie’s request would be easilie granted, and his
expectations answered in a higher measure than it may be his Majestie
did believe. The King said, ‘_With all my hart_: and as to the other
business which so much troubles my lord, in troth I have thought it a
neglect in us heretofore; but the true reason why I did forbear to do so
was, because I thought my Lord of Worcester did not desire it, by reason
of his retiredness, unwieldiness of body, and unwillingness of mind to
stir abroad; and therefore I thought it a contentment to him to be let
alone.’ I told his Majestie, that I did verilie believe that his
Majestie was in the rights in both respects, both of his Majestie’s and
his lordship’s; and that if his Majestie had called him to councel, I do
verilie believe his lordship would have been desired to be excused; but
yet he did expect he should have been called. Whereupon the King said,
‘I pray tell my Lord of Worcester, that I did not forbear that respect
unto him out of any disestimation I had either of his wisedome or
loyaltie; but out of some reasons I had to myself, which indeed
reflected as much upon my lord as they did on me. For had he used to
have come to the councel board, it would have been said that I took no
other councel but what was conveighed to me by Jesuites, by his
lordship’s meanes: and I pray tell him that that was the true cause.’ I
told his Majestie that I would, and that I thought it an easie matter to
cause him to believe no less; but withal I intimated to his Majestie
that I knew the Marquess had an earnest desire to have some private
conference with his Majestie this night; which, if granted, it might
conduce very much to his Majestie’s behoof. The King said, ‘How can that
be?’ I told his Majestie that my lord had contrived it before his coming
to the castle, and told his Majestie of the privacie of the
conveighance. Thereat his Majestie smiled and said, ‘I know my lord’s
drift well enough: either he means to chide me, or else to convert me to
his religion.’ Whereupon I told his Majestie, I doubted not but that his
Majestie was temptation-proof as well as he was correction-free; and
that he might returne the same man he went, having made a profitable
exchange of gold and silver for words and sleep.”[250]
It seems to have been thought necessary to make a great state secret of
this conference; and, in order that the company might not observe any
communication going on between the King and the Marquess, who,
doubtless, knew his guests, he hastily made answer--“I will tell you
what you shall do, so that you shall not need to fear any such thing. Go
unto the yeoman of the wine cellar, and bid him leave the keys of the
wine cellar with you, and all that you find in your way, invite them
down unto the cellar, and shew them the keys, and I warrant you, you
shall sweep the room of them if there were a hundred; and when you have
done leave them there.”[251] This ruse appears to have been so
successful, that after Bayly published his book, some of those who had
been in Raglan denied that ever there had been private conversations
between the King and the Marquess. But Bayly’s good faith seems to have
been unjustly suspected; and he replies to the objectors with humour and
severity in his Preface to the “Apophthegms.”
The Marquis having “lain down, the Chaplain found him asleep when he
went to let him know the time to meet the King was come. He expressed
much annoyance and fear on account of what had been arranged; but after
taking a pipe of tobacco and a little glassful of _aqua mirabilis_, he
recovered his spirits.”
<g>Shortly</g> after the King’s departure from Raglan, an adventure occurred
which placed the venerable Marquess in a novel and rather ludicrous
position. It was this:--
“There was a certain great man in the King’s army,[252] between whom and
the house of Raglan,” says Bayly, “there was at that time animosity. The
Marquess of Worcester had heard that this party should cast a dubious
saying, as the case then stood, viz., ‘That he intended to _take_ Raglan
in his way;’ and was so far as good as his word, as that he marched into
the parke, and there drew up his men, and fac’d the Castle. Whereupon
the line was manned, and command was given that none should be suffered
to come near the line, nor within such a distance; which command was so
observed, that some of the officers of the army approaching within the
place prohibited, the centry bid stand. They did not. The centry called
upon them again to stand. They refused. The Lieutenant called upon the
centry to give fire. The centry, preferring the knowledge of his friends
to his duty to his officer, did not give fire; but swore he would give
fire if they did not stand. Whereupon one of them told him that it was
such a Generall, and wonder’d that the officer would bid the souldier
give fire upon him. The Generall forthwith coming to the drawbridge,
desired to speak with the Lord Charles; whom he no sooner saluted, but
required satisfaction for the affront. He was desired to come into the
Castle, and told that the matter should be examined before him, and if
any affront were given, he should receive satisfaction. Whereupon, being
come within the Castle, the Lieutenant was sent for; who told the
Generall, that though he knew him to be the Generall, yet, as a
souldier, he was not to take any notice of him, until such times as he
had declared himself, which when he did, he respected him accordingly.
Furthermore telling him, that he had been an old souldier, and that he
had in other parts seen rewards given unto souldiers who stood centry,
for firing upon their generall, having the like occasions; but never
knew it a fault before. All this would not serve turn. The Generall said
he was affronted, and must have satisfaction, requiring my lord to call
a councell of warre, and to do him justice; and so took his leave and
went his way. The <g>Marquess</g> of Worcester, sleeping upon his bed all this
while, and not dreaming of any of all this that had happened in the
interim, hearing the whole relation, he asked all his officers, ‘Whether
or no the Lieutenant had offended?’ They all answered, ‘No;’ and
commended him for what he had done. Then said the Marquess, ‘This is but
a pretence--they have a mind to quarrel with us. If ye should call a
councell of warre, and acquit him, that is what they desire, and thence
they would ground their quarrel; and if ye should inflict any punishment
upon him to give them satisfaction, that were basenesse and injustice;
therefore I will have it thus: Send a guard with him to the Generall of
such souldiers as are able to witness the truth; and let him try him at
his councell of warre, and see what law he hath for it, and so we shall
break the neck of the quarrell.’
“‘And so,’ said the Lieutenant, ‘I shall hang by the neck for my
labour!’ Whereat the Marquis replyed, ‘What friends hast thou in the
garrison?’ The Lieutenant made answer, ‘I have a wife and a daughter.’
Then said the Marquis with some vehemence, ‘I protest unto thee, if they
hang thee, I’ll marry thy wife and provide for thy daughter.’ The
Lieutenant replied, ‘I had rather you would marry my daughter, and
provide for me.’ ‘I protest,’ said the Marquess, ‘so I will; I will
marry thy daughter, and I will provide for thee an honourable grave; but
thou shalt be hanged first.’ ‘My Lord,’ said the Lieutenant, ‘shall I
bespeak my grave?’ ‘Thou shalt,’ said the Marquess. ‘Then,’ said the
Lieutenant, ‘I will be laid in the vault in Raglan Church between your
father and your grandfather; and I pray God I may be hanged before I see
you again.’ And so saying he flung out of the roome, leaving my Lord in
the merriest veine that ever I saw him in; who, remembering himself,
sent him five pieces to beare his charges.
“The Lieutenant being brought to the Generall at Monmouth, the Generall
dismissed him of his guard, and sent him to Hereford with an oath at his
heeles, that he would hang him if there were no more men in England.
“Then the Lieutenant cried out, ‘This makes for us, sure enough. I do
but think how finely I shall lie between the two old earles.’... The
particulars hereof being brought to the Marquess, his lordship was not a
little perplext between feare of having his new mistresse and loosing
his old friend; which he had run himself into between jest and earnest.
The time was come that the Marquess was not so much merrier than we
heretofore; but we were as much merrie as he upon the return of this
news. But the greatest sport of all was concerning the hopefull Lady
Marchioness, who was ever and anon enquiring and asking many questions
concerning the Marquess, whom she never saw. What manner of man he was?
How old? Whether he went with a staff, or no? What was the reason he
kept his chamber so much, and did not come abroad sometimes? What
ailments he had? And how long it was since his lady died? With many
other necessary questions to be asked by a young woman in her condition.
“Sport enough there was for both the garrisons of Raglan and Hereford.
Nevertheless, it stood the Marquess upon to be sollicitous in the
business, being sore prest between two strong passions, love and pitty.
Me he sends to solicit the businesse, with instructions; whose telling
me never so often, ‘that it was no laughing matter,’ could not make me
forbear laughing.
“But having taken my leave, his Lordship called me back again, and with
a loud and angry voice said to me, ‘Tell the Generall, that if he hang
my Lieutenant, I’ll hang the centry for not giving fire upon him when he
was bid.’ Whereupon I said unto his Lordship, ‘What doth he care how
many you hang?’ ‘God bless us all,’ said the Marquess; ‘if he neither
cares who he hangs of the King’s party, nor who other folkes hang; for
aught I know he cares not an’ we were all hanged.’
“So taking my second leave of the Marquess, and then my humble leave of
the Lady Elizabeth, who fearing nothing more but that I would prove too
good a sollicitor for her good, I went to Hereford, and made some sport
there; and so brought home the Lieutenant to his wife and daughter, who
ever after was called ‘My Lady Marquess.’”
We now proceed to that part of our subject, in which the desperate
fortunes of the Monarch are connected with his last visit to Raglan.
After the battle of Naseby, nothing prospered with the King. His army,
it was suspected, had not displayed on that day their former valour.
Though not disaffected, they were dispirited; the mass of the infantry
threw down their arms and cried for quarter; and with Cromwell’s horse
thundering in his rear, the King escaped to Leicester, and thence
through Bewdley, in Worcestershire, to Hereford. Only five days before
this ruinous defeat he had written in a letter to the Queen, that since
the rebellion began, “his affairs were never in so fair and hopeful a
way.” On the sixth he was a fugitive. But he had still hopes--strange as
it must appear--of getting together an army in South Wales.[253] At
Hereford, Prince Rupert took leave of the King, and hastened to
Bristol, that he might put it into a condition to resist the victorious
army that was speedily to make its appearance before it; and thence,
says Lord Clarendon, “his Majesty went to Abergavenny to meet the
Commissioners. As they were for the most part persons of the best
quality and the largest fortunes of these counties, so they had
manifested great loyalty and affection from the beginning of the war, by
sending many good regiments to the army; and with their sons and
brothers and nearest kindred--many of whom had lost their lives bravely
in the field. They now made as large professions as ever, and seemed to
believe that they should be able in a very short time to raise a good
army of foot, with which the King might again look upon the enemy, and
accordingly agreed what numbers should be levied upon each of the
counties.” From hence, says the historian, “his Majesty went for the
last time to <g>Raglan Castle</g>, the noble house of the Marquess of
Worcester, which was well fortified and garrisoned by him who remained
then in it.” There the King “resolved to stay till he saw the effect of
the Commissioners’ mighty promises. But in a short time he found that,
either by the continued successes of the Parliament armies, the
particular information whereof was every day brought to them by
intelligence from their friends, or the triumphs of their enemies in
Monmouth or Gloucester, there was little probability of their raising an
army in those parts, where all men grew less affected, or more frighted:
which produced one and the same effect.”
In his progress--for it was more like a “progress” than a
retreat--through Monmouthshire to Raglan, the King was greeted with
every expression of loyal sympathy by his Welsh subjects. In the “_Iter
Carolinum_,” printed amongst the “Somers’ Tracts,” it is recorded, “that
King Charles slept at Tredegar, the seat of Sir William Morgan, in this
county, on the seventeenth of July, 1645; and that he arrived at Sir
Philip Morgan’s,[254] Ruperra, in Glamorganshire, on the twenty-fifth,
and there remained till the twenty-ninth of the same month.” This must
have been immediately before his return to Raglan Castle, in August.
Entering upon a melancholy progress from house to house, among the
staunch royalists of South Wales, he had thus sought relief from the
gloomy reflections by which his mind was oppressed after the total
defeat at Naseby.
At Raglan, however, says the historian, “the King, as on his former
visit, passed days and weeks in sports and ceremonies, in hunting and
audience-giving;” for every effort was employed by those around him to
obliterate all recollections of the past by promises and predictions of
a brilliant future. When his Majesty re-entered the gates of
Raglan--which was indeed a harbour of refuge in his distress--the loyal
Marquess, kneeling down, kissed his <g>Liege’s</g> hand; and then rising up
saluted him with this compliment--“_Domine! non sum dignus_.” To which
the King replied--“My Lord, I may very well answer you again: _I have
not found so great faith, no not in Israel_. No man would trust me with
so much money as you have done.” To which the Marquess replied--“I hope
your Majesty will prove _a defender of the Faith_.”
[Illustration]
By this time Lord Herbert (Earl of Glamorgan) had sailed for Ireland to
raise, if possible, new forces for the King’s service, and the renewal
of the war. Pleased with his zeal and loyalty, his Majesty had thus
written to him from Hereford:--
“Glamorgan--I am glad to hear that you are gone to Irland, and
asseure you that as myselfe is nowais disheartned by our late
misfortune, so nether this country; for I could not have expected
more from them then they have now freely undertaken, though I had
come hither absolute victorious; which makes me hope well of the
neighbouring sheers; so that, by the grace of God, I hope shortly
to recover my late losse, with advantage, if such succours come to
me from that Kingdome which I have reason to expect; but the
circumstance of tyme is that of the greatest consequence, being
that wᶜ now is cheefliest and earnestliest recomended to you by
your most asseured, reall, constant frend,
“<g>Charles R.</g>”[255]
Among the numerous and more humble examples of loyal affection, by which
the fallen Monarch was soothed during his retirement in Raglan Castle,
the following is well deserving of notice:--The reverend individual,
whom his own act has immortalized, was Thomas Swift,[256] incumbent of
the neighbouring parish of Goodrich. Fully aware of the King’s pecuniary
distress, he mortgaged his estate; and with the money thus raised he
proceeded to Raglan Castle. The Governor, with whom he was personally
acquainted, asked the object of his visit, and whether he could serve
him; for he was equally esteemed as a zealous pastor, and a staunch
royalist. “I am only come,” said he, “to give his Majesty my coat;” and,
in taking it off, the Marquess pleasantly observed: “Thy coat, I fear
me, is of little worth.” “Why then,” said Swift, “take my waistcoat
also.” And here was the hidden treasure, for, on being ripped up, it was
found to contain three hundred broad gold pieces. “And the King,” says
Lord Clarendon, “received no relief that was more seasonable and
acceptable than this during the war.” Mr. Swift’s zeal and activity in
the royal cause exposed him to much danger and many sufferings. “He was
plundered,” says Heath, “more than _thirty times_ by the Parliament’s
army, and ejected from his church living. His estate was sequestered,
and he himself thrown into prison.”
At Raglan the King “stayed until news came that Fairfax, after taking
Leicester, had marched into the west, and defeated Goring’s troops at
Lamport; at the same time that the Scottish army, on its march, had
taken a small garrison between Hereford and Worcester by storm, and put
all within it to the sword;” while Prince Rupert sent for all those
foot, which were levied towards a new army to supply the garrison. But
the expectations, which had been industriously fostered in the King’s
mind of a more propitious fortune, became every day more faint. Of all
the schemes that had been set afoot for retrieving his past errors, and
regaining the hearts of his alienated subjects, not one was permitted to
prosper. And as a fatal climax to his unhappy fortunes, “it was at
Raglan Castle,” says Lord Clarendon, “that the King received the
terrible information of the surrender of Bristol (September 11, 1645),
which he so little apprehended, that if the evidence thereof had not
been unquestionable, it could not have been believed. With what
indignation and dejection of mind the King received this advertisement,
needs no other description and enlargement than the setting down in the
very words of it the letter which the King writ thereupon to Prince
<g>Rupert</g>; which, considering the unspeakable indulgence his Majesty had
ever shewed towards that Prince, is sufficient evidence how highly he
was incensed by that act, which yet he took some time sadly to think of
and consider, before he would allow himself to abate so much of his
natural candour towards him. As soon as he received that surprising
intelligence, the King removed from <g>Raglan Castle</g>.”
[Illustration: _The Gateway Towers._