<g>Pembrokeshire</g>.
<g>Manober</g> turribus et propugnaculis erat eximium, ab occidente portum
extensum a Circio et Barea, sub ipsis muralibus vivarium habens
egregium tam sua venustate, quam aquarum profunditate
conspicuum.”--_Gyrald._
<g>MANORBEER</g>, another of those feudal strongholds with which the
Principality abounds, possesses an additional interest as the
birth-place of Giraldus Cambrensis, a sketch of whose life will be found
in these pages.
The Castle, says Leland, “stands between two little hillettes”--the
rocky bases of which repel the fury of a boisterous sea--and is very
imposing as we come upon it, through an antiquated village of
Flemish-looking houses, with singular chimneys--old as the Castle
itself. It is called Manorbeer, or Maenor Byrr, from its being the manor
of the Lords, or the mansion or manor of Byrr. It occupies the crest of
a hill, which commands an extensive prospect of land and sea--the latter
expanding its waves, until they are enclosed by the distant promontory
of St. Gowan’s Head, and presenting at times a scene of great animation
by the numerous vessels that glide along the coast. With its sheltered
green park on one hand, a bare hill, with the slender tower of the old
Norman church, on the other, and the whole mass as if suspended over the
sea-beach that takes its angle and curve from the protruding rocks, the
scene presents a combination of features that never fail to impress the
stranger with mingled sentiments of picturesque beauty, solitude, and
desolation.
<g>The Castle</g> of Manorbeer is a capacious Norman edifice of the first
class, with massive towers, ponderous and lofty gates, high embattled
walls with loopholes, but no windows in the exterior. It presents the
characteristic features of a stronghold, whose chief, at once hated and
feared, retained possession of his conquered manor by no better security
than that of armed retainers--vassals and mercenaries, whose rights and
sense of justice were measured by their swords.
<g>The Gateway</g> forms a grand and imposing feature; and through this, the
principal entrance, we reach the interior Court, upon which the windows
of the quadrangle open, and discover the apartments once occupied by the
Baron and his family--who were thus barred in from the fair face of
nature, and condemned to consider security and seclusion ample
compensation for the sacrifice of other advantages. Here the justice was
retributive; for he who plotted against the rights and liberties of his
fellow-creatures, was little better than a prisoner in his own Castle;
and, even among his sworn retainers, had often cause to suspect an
assassin, and to be the reluctant slave of those fears which no doubling
of his “tried sentinels” could exclude.
<g>The Outworks</g> of the Castle are extensive, and worthy appendages to what
is considered “a perfect model of a Norman Baron’s residence,” the
general characteristics of which were the following:--The simple rude
tower of the Anglo-Saxon was enlarged and improved into what, taking its
name from the builder, was called a Gundulph Keep, the entrance to which
was at a great height. It was approached by a grand staircase, which
went partly round two of the outside fronts of the Castle, and ended in
a grand portal, before which was a drawbridge. The entrance was
indispensably gradual. The first step in advance was the drawbridge,
with a gate about the middle of the staircase, to arrive at the portal.
Secondly, upon arriving at this point, you found it merely the entrance
to a small annexed tower, the whole of which might be demolished without
injury to the body of the Castle. This tower was for the use of the
guard or sentinel. Within this tower was a sort of vestibule, and from
thence was a second entrance--the real entrance to the Keep--through a
second portal, placed in the thickness of the walls. Both the first and
second portals were defended by a portcullis and double gates; so that
there were three strong gates to be forced, and two portcullises to be
destroyed, before even this entrance could be gained. In the thickness
of the wall were two niches, in addition to the second portal, for
wardours or sentinels. Besides this, there was the sally-port, another
small entrance--ascended only by a movable ladder--which had no
communication with the floor above, except by a “small winding
staircase, that, from its narrowness and form, could easily be defended
by one man, and to which additional security was provided by strong
doors. On the
<g>Ground floor</g>--as already observed in this Castle--there were no windows,
very few loopholes, and those so constructed that no missile thrown in
could reach farther than the bottom of the arch. In the first floor
there were no windows, but only loopholes within the tower itself. In
the second floor the windows were so high that no weapon discharged into
them could take effect, as it struck the arch of the window, and
dropped harmless on the floor. On the side near the principal entrance
there were no windows nor lights whatever--not even loopholes on the
same side as the entrance and top of the staircase, because, if so
placed, they would have been exposed to an enemy who, having once gained
the steps, was attempting to force the portal. In
<g>The Vestibule</g> were large windows, because--as the author of the
“Monumenta” supposes--that place was of no importance in a siege: but
this opinion is considered by others to be untenable. A full command of
view was here indispensable; and that this was the object may be
inferred from the loopholes and windows being in an inverted order to
what they are in the great one, and from the vestibule being immediately
over the dungeon, so that, on any attempt at attack, escape or rescue
would be detected. On the
<g>Third story</g>, which contained the state apartments, there was a gallery
within the walls for the conveyance of orders. Mr. King, in his
description of fortified buildings, has noticed a stone arch and false
portals, a round angular tower, and an _affected_ appearance of weakness
in the small square tower and vestibule, as deceptions to mislead the
enemy. But this, as observed by Fosbroke, is questionable; for such
expedients do not occur in all castles of this era--and, had they been
usual, must have been too well known to mislead the enemy. The lower
apartments of these strongholds were reserved as storerooms for the use
of the household and retainers.
<g>The Dungeon</g>, for the security of prisoners, was beneath the ground floor
of the Keep, with which it communicated by a steep, dark, and narrow
staircase. It had, of course, no windows nor loopholes; and the only
aperture for the admission of air was a trap-door in the vestibule. A
gutter carried off water from the floor, which, for this purpose, was
made sloping towards it.
<g>In the centre</g> of the main walls were square wells, opening at bottom
into arches, for the removal and distribution of stores to the upper
apartments; and through the solid walls, also, flues were perforated for
the conveyance of information by the voice. And these contrivances, with
considerable improvements, continue in our own times to facilitate
domestic intercourse in large establishments. In the centre of the
partition wall--as seen at Rochester[394]--was a well for water--like
the shaft of a coal pit--going from the bottom of the tower up to the
very leads; and over every successive floor were small arches in the
wall, forming a communication between the pipe of the well and the
several apartments, so that, by means of a pulley, water could be
distributed to every part of the Castle. The fireplaces in general were
semicircular arches--as already shown and described in this work. The
chimneys were in the form of a sloping cone, and terminated in
loopholes. In some instances, as at Chepstow, they were covered
internally with a hard glazing of cement, so as to prevent the
accumulation and lodgment, and facilitate the removal, of fuliginous
matter on the surface. The great chimney of Raglan Castle is a fine
specimen of its kind, and so capacious as to appear like the
perpendicular shaft of a deep well. The sinks are similar cones, but
ending sideways, obliquely, to prevent the introduction of weapons. The
great state apartments of the Castle consisted of three rooms: of these,
the two principal ones were separated only by large arches, open at the
top, so that there might be a free circulation of air; but under the
arch was a partition wall, in later times of oak-panelling, for hanging
the arras.
Such are a few of the characteristic features of a Norman fortress of
the twelfth and thirteenth centuries--the model upon which the great
castles of Wales were constructed by Edward the First--of which various
particulars have been already given, and others will be found
interspersed in subsequent portions of this work.
While wandering over the ruins of these dilapidated strongholds, of
whose founders it may here be truly said--_stat nominis umbra_, we are
humbled into a sense of the vain and fragile tenor by which all earthly
possessions are held. “There the thistle shakes its lonely head; the
moss whistles to the winds; the fox looks out from the windows, the rank
grass of the wall waves round his head. Desolate is the dwelling of
Moina; silence is in the house of her fathers.”
“Thrice happier he who tends his sheep
Where yonder lowly cot appears;
Than Baron in his iron Keep,
Encircled by his glittering spears.”
<g>The Church</g> of Manorbeer stands upon a high slope, fronting the south
side of the Castle, and forms an interesting feature in the landscape.
It is of Norman architecture, consisting of a tall square tower,
chancel, and nave, divided by a row of massive and rudely-fashioned
pillars. In the north side of the chancel is the monument of a
Crusader--one of those enthusiastic knights, perhaps, who, having heard
the preaching of Archbishop Baldwin, obeyed the summons and followed his
lion-hearted Sovereign to the Holy Land. The effigy, reposing under a
plain canopy, represents a warrior in ring and plate armour, the legs
croisés, and the shield charged with the <g>Barri</g> arms. An effigy is also
pointed out on the same side as that of Giraldus Cambrensis, or Barri,
whose life and literary merits we have so often had occasion to notice.
On the south side of the church are the remains of a “Chantry or
Collegiate building,” erected probably by one of the Barri family, who,
in 1092, joined Fitz-Hamon in his marauding enterprise against a native
prince of the country, and afterwards, as we have seen, divided the
conquered land, in <g>Seigneuries</g>, among his twelve knights and retainers.
<g>The Founder</g> of Manorbeer, so far as we have ascertained, does not make
any distinct figure in history. He was one of the mass of Norman
warriors, who, by their collective strength, personal courage, and
vaulting ambition, made themselves alternately the dread and the support
of Royalty; and who--each in his feudal demesne, within the gates of his
own castle--were absolute sovereigns. And yet few will deny, that out of
the accumulated evils, that like clouds collected and darkened for a
time the apparent destiny of Wales, permanent good was elicited. In the
words of a great poet:--
“Still the ramparted ground
With a vision my fancy inspires,
And I hear the trump sound,
As it marshalled our Chivalry’s sires.
On each turf of that mead,
Stood the captors of England’s domains,
That ennobled her breed,
And high mettled the blood in her veins!
O’er hauberk and helm--
As the sun’s setting splendour was thrown--
Thence they look’d o’er a realm,
And the morrow beheld it their own!”
Wherever they were victorious in battle, there they built a stronghold.
What was gained by violence, was to be held by the same means: while
superior knowledge--superior tactics--the confidence of men accustomed
to victory--of plausible designs and refined policy--were more than a
match for mere “abettors in a good cause,” who could oppose nothing to
the practised arms of the invader but the brute force of undisciplined
hordes, whose indomitable love of home and freedom furnished them with
courage to vindicate their country; and where that failed, with
resolution to perish in the attempt. But we need not here enlarge upon
the merits of a struggle which was protracted for centuries; and if at
last the Norman made good his footing within the Welsh border, it was
only after numerous checks and discomfitures, at a cost which no other
nation could have incurred, and by a system of warfare in which success
was often the result of accident, and where the laws of humanity were
too often trampled under foot.
<g>Giraldus Cambrensis</g> was born at Manorbeer about the year 1146. He was
sent on three different occasions to France, for the sake of
improvement; and prosecuted his studies with so much diligence and
success, as to give him an honourable position among the learned men of
that early period. He obtained great reputation in rhetoric, which soon
brought him into notice; and he was successively promoted, to a canonry
in the cathedral of Hereford, and to the archdeaconry of Brecon. In the
thirtieth year of his age he was elected, by the Chapter of <g>St. David’s</g>,
bishop of that see; but the King’s approbation being withheld, he
resolved to make another journey into France, and resume his studies in
the University of Paris. On his return home, a few years afterwards, he
found the whole country in a state of violent excitement, the canons and
archdeacon of Menevia having joined with the inhabitants in driving out
the bishop of that see, the administration of which was committed to
Barri by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Under this authority he governed
the see of <g>St. David’s</g> for three or four years, and made many
reformations in it.
The next event in his life was the King’s command, in 1185, to attend
the young Prince <g>John</g> into Ireland. Two years afterwards he returned to
Wales, and employed most of his time in writing and revising his
<g>Topographia</g>, to which, after putting the last hand, he proceeded to
Oxford, and read it in a public audience of the University.[395] But the
incident in his life which more particularly entitles him to a notice in
this place, is the fact of his having accompanied Archbishop Baldwin in
his progress through Wales, and with him, also, visited and described
the principal features of the country.
The object of this progress--as above noticed--was to preach a crusade
for the recovery of the Holy Land, for which the lion-hearted <g>Richard</g>,
accompanied by the flower of his nobility, had already set out.
Giraldus, smit with the same enthusiasm which he endeavoured to kindle
in others, took up the <g>Cross</g>. On his departure for the Holy Land, the
King left the chief government of the realm in the hands of William
Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and appointed Giraldus to act with him in the
commission; but this could not be valid until he obtained a dispensation
from the Pope’s legate for discontinuing the voyage.
In 1190, the Bishop of Ely and the Pope’s legate offered him the see of
Bangor; and again, the following year, Prince John offered him the
bishopric of Llandaff; both of which he declined, in hopes that the see
of St. David’s, on which he had set his heart, might one day fall to his
lot. The following year Girald retired from court; and, removing to
Lincoln, wrote several works which bear his name. Here he continued
until the death of Peter, Bishop of St. David’s, in 1198, when he was
nominated to the vacant see, but rejected by Herbert, Archbishop of
Canterbury, who sent a mandate to the Canons to elect and admit
<g>Geoffrey</g>, Prior of <g>Llanthony</g>, for their bishop. Girald appealed to the
Pope and the Canons by letter, entreating his Holiness to consecrate
him. He took a journey to Rome, and there presented the letter in
person. The Prior of Llanthony, furnished with letters from the
Archbishop, did the same; and the Pope, seeing no likelihood of the
cause being speedily determined, appointed Giraldus administrator, both
in spiritualities and temporalities of the bishopric of St. David’s, and
sent him home.
But in November, 1202, Giraldus was induced to make a third visit to
Rome, where he continued until the 15th of April following; on which day
the Pope gave a definitive sentence in the cause, and vacated the claims
of both candidates. In the month of August, Giraldus returned home to
solicit a new election; but in spite of the opposition, Geoffrey of
Llanthony was elected by the Canons. Giraldus finding it useless to
oppose the Archbishop, resigned all further pretensions to the see of
St. David’s; and shortly after resigned the archdeaconry of Brecon to
his nephew. The remainder of his life seems to have been spent in
retirement, where he composed many works. But there is no evidence of
his having taken an active part in any public affairs, political or
ecclesiastical; and as he was subsequently offered the bishopric of St.
David’s [in 1215], it was on conditions which compelled him to reject
the very see to which he had so ardently aspired. The year of his death
is not mentioned: but in 1220, as we ascertain from contemporary
documents, he was still living.
With a very excusable partiality for his native place, he has
transmitted to posterity the following description of its beauties,
natural and artificial:--
“<g>Maenorpyrr</g> is distant about three miles from Penbroch. The Castle is
excellently well defended by turrets and bulwarks. On the right hand a
rivulet[396] of never-failing water flows through a valley, rendered
sandy by the violence of the winds.”... “The country is well supplied
with corn, seafish, and imported wines, and is tempered by a salubrious
air. <g>Demetia</g>--or territory of St. David’s, with its seven cantreds--is
the most beautiful as well as the most powerful district of Wales:
Penbroch is the finest province of Demetia, and the place I have now
described is the most delightful part of Penbroch. It is evident,
therefore, that Maenorpyrr is the <g>Paradise</g> of all Wales.”