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“Fall’n pile! I ask not what has been thy fate,--
But when the weak winds, wafted from the main,
Through each lone arch, like spirits that complain,
Come hollow to my ear, I meditate
On this world’s passing pageant, and the lot
Of those who once might proudly in their prime
Have stood, with giant port; till, bow’d by time
Or injury, their ancient boast forgot,
They might have sunk, like thee: though thus, forlorn,
They lift their head, with venerable hairs
Besprent, majestic yet, and as in scorn
Of mortal vanities and short-lived cares:
Even so dost thou, lifting thy forehead grey,
Smile at the tempest and Time’s sweeping sway.”
<g>Historical Associations.</g>--The neighbourhood of Netley is interesting in
many points of view to the antiquary. At some distance to the north is
the modern village of Bittern, the site of the Roman town of Clausentum,
of the earth-works of which some traces still remain. On Netley Heath,
which lies between Netley and Bittern, are numerous tumuli, probably
indicating the places of burial of some of the more distinguished of the
Roman inhabitants of this spot. We trace the footsteps of that
extraordinary people almost within the precincts of Netley Abbey; for in
its immediate vicinity, in a field by the shore near West Wood, a few
years ago, a coarse earthen vessel, filled with Roman coins of the Lower
Empire, was dug up by a labourer. The larger portion of these coins was
of the description called small brass, and of the period of the younger
Gallienus.
After Clausentum had been deserted and forgotten, its importance was
transferred to the neighbouring town of Hamton, known in more modern
times by the name of Southampton, to distinguish it from the other
Hamton, now called Northampton. During the period of the Saxons,
Southampton is chiefly known as having been repeatedly plundered by the
Danes, to whose attacks it was exposed by its position. In 980, seven
Danish ships came suddenly and destroyed the town, and slaughtered or
carried away into captivity nearly all its inhabitants.
Although we know little of the history of Southampton during this early
period, we find that the district was afterwards connected with
historical traditions, now long forgotten, which found their way into
the <g>poetry</g> of our forefathers. It was here, in the neighbourhood of
Netley, according to the legendary history of the ancient Britons, that
the Emperor Claudius made his descent upon the shores of our island. The
romances tell us that he was met here by a British king named “Gwyder,”
who defeated the Romans with great slaughter. But Claudius had a
faithful councillor named Ham, or Haimo, who clad himself in the arms
and dress of a Briton, went to the enemy’s camp, and, after a short
period, obtained the favour of the invincible Gwyder. Another desperate
battle between the Britons and Romans followed; when Ham, who kept near
the British king, treacherously drew his sword and slew him, and then
fled to the Romans, supposing that he had secured the victory for his
countrymen. But Arviragus, the brother of Gwyder, took the command of
the Britons; and by his bravery the Romans were again vanquished, and
driven with great loss to their ships. Ham, with a small body of men,
was cut off from the main army, and took shelter in a wood near the
shore; he was there attacked by the Britons, and, retreating to a haven,
was slain on the spot where was afterwards built the town called
(according to the legend) from him, Hampton.
“Ac the luther Haym with ys folk toward the wode hymn drowe:
Arvirag hym sywede, and to grounde ever slowgh.
Atte laste ys tricherie wel lutel he by-lowgh;
He overtok hym at an havene, and slogh hym ryght there:
Lutel harm thei tricherus so alle y-served were.
The havene ther he was y-slawe, after Haymys name y-wys,
Hamptone was y-clepud, as he yet y-clepud ys,
For South-hamptone he is y-clepud, and worth ever mo.”[235]
So sang the quaint old chronicler, Robert of Gloucester. Legends
probably connected with the ravages of the Danes in this neighbourhood,
and the troubles of the latter ages of Anglo-Saxon history, formed the
foundation of another romance of great popularity. In the baronial halls
of Old England, the harp has often resounded to the chivalrous
adventures of <g>Bevis</g> of <g>Hampton</g>. The figure of the hero may still be seen
rudely sculptured on the antique tower at Southampton, called the
Bargate. History gives us no clue to identify the personage who, in
medieval romance, figures as
“Bevis of renoun,
The right heir of Southamptoun.”
But, according to the story, the father of Bevis was a powerful thane,
named Guy, Earl of Hampton, or Southampton. He married a young wife,
who, falling in love with a stranger knight named Doon de Mentz, caused
her husband to be murdered by her paramour, whom she afterwards married.
Young Bevis, by a series of marvellous adventures, escaped from the fate
which had fallen on his father; and, leaving his inheritance to be
enjoyed by the murderer, fled to the east, where he becomes engaged in
no less extraordinary adventures among the infidels. He there falls in
love with a beautiful Saracen maiden, named Josiana, daughter of the
King of Armenie, with whom, after many years’ absence, he returns home.
Bevis and his wife Josiana have a son named Guy. After having recovered
his paternal estates, and punished the murderers of his father, Bevis
becomes involved in a war with his sovereign, the King of England; and,
the king’s son having been killed, he is obliged to fly with Josiana and
his child. On their arrival on the Continent, they seek repose and
shelter in a forest; but, while Bevis is absent in search of food, a
party of pirates arrive and carry away his wife and child. They give
young Guy to a fisherman; and Josiana afterwards escapes unhurt from
their hands. The three are thus separated from each other, and each
passes through a series of adventures in search of the other, which form
a large portion of the romance. Bevis and his wife both arrive at the
court of Armenie, where in her right he succeeds to the crown. But in
the meantime the King of England dies without heirs; and the nobles of
the land decide that Bevis and his son are the next in succession: they
discover the latter at Paris, and offer him the throne. Guy determines
at once to set out in search of his father; and he also arrives at last
in Armenie, where his father is king. When Bevis is thus made acquainted
with the events which had followed his banishment from England, he
resigns the crown of Armenie to his son; and, with his wife Josiana,
returns to his own country, where he is crowned with great ceremony and
splendid festivities. Five years after his accession to the throne of
England, Josiana dies; overcome with chagrin for the loss of his queen,
and tired with the pomp of the world, Bevis leaves his own court, and
retires secretly to a hermitage, where he remains seven years before
the place of his retreat is known. At the end of that period, an angel
discovers it to the King of France, at the moment when Bevis is dying.
Such is the outline of the legend of Bevis of Hampton, than which the
writer of the romance assures us a better was never sung,--
“Plaist-vous oïr, bonne gent honnorée,
Bonne chanson de bien enluminée?
Meilleur de li ne puet estre chantée
Par jongleour, dite, ne devisée,
Comme ceste est qui çi vous est contée.”
At a short distance from the town of Southampton is a large tumulus, or
sepulchral mound, which is known by the name of <g>Bevis’s Mount</g>. Some
antiquaries, probably with little reason, have supposed it to be the
remains of an ancient Danish fort. There is another <g>Bevis’s Mound</g> in the
park of Arundel Castle,[236] which is said to be the hero’s grave. His
sword, six feet long, is still preserved at Arundel. Bevis’s Mount, near
Southampton, is now enclosed in the gardens of a gentleman’s seat.
In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, Southampton and its
neighbourhood was a common landing-place for pirates and French
marauders, who infested the southern coast of England. In 1337 a
considerable part of the town was burnt by the French. We have no
information as to the effect which these hostile incursions had upon the
monks of Netley. In recent times, Netley Heath has been more than once
the rendezvous of troops destined for the invasion of France.
Independent of its historical recollections, the <g>neighbourhood</g> of Netley
Abbey is interesting to the visitor for the beauty of its scenery. The
walk from Southampton is extremely agreeable, lying chiefly along the
beach.
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Itchen Ferry, which we must first pass, is now crossed by means of a
moving bridge, worked by a steam-engine. A pleasant winding lane leads
to the shore of the Southampton Water. The path then lies along the edge
of the water, skirted on the left by wooded eminences. After proceeding
a short distance, we arrive at <g>Weston Beach</g>, whence, by a little lane to
the left, we reach the beautiful hamlet of Weston, thickly embedded in
trees. A modern poetess, Miss Mitford, has celebrated the charms of this
rural spot:--
“Hills which the purple heath-bell shield,
Forest and village, lawn and field,
Ocean and earth, with all they yield
Of glorious or of fair.”
On the beach, a post directs us to the village inn, which is frequented
by fishermen, who form the greater part of the population of the hamlet.
Their boats are frequently seen in considerable numbers at anchor by the
shore.
Pursuing our path along the beach, after a short walk, we arrive at a
lane which conducts us to the entrance of Netley Abbey. Below, on the
water’s edge, lies Netley Castle. The road which we have now entered,
passing in front of the abbey, leads by Netley grange towards Netley
hamlet, and the heaths of Netley and Bursledon. A little farther lie in
succession the picturesque villages of Hound, Bursledon, and Hamble, the
two latter situated on another creek of the sea, larger than the Itchen
water. Leland the antiquary, who visited these parts immediately after
the dissolution of the monasteries, appears to have passed along the
shore in a boat from Portsmouth to Southampton. He gives the following
account of the coast between Hamble and Itchen creek: “Scant a {2} miles
from the mouth of Hamelrise creeke lyithe Letelege, on the shore upward
in the mayne haven. Here a late was a great abbay in building of White
monkes. About a 2 miles upward brekith in a great creeke out of the
mayne haven, and goith into the land by northe. On the lift hand of this
creeke by west a litle from the shore stondith a chapelle of our Lady of
Grace, sumtime hauntid with pilgrimes. Right agayne it is Hichyn, a
smaulle village on the est side, and hereof the _trajectus_ is caullid
Hichin-fery.” The manner in which Leland speaks of Letley, or Netley,
gives strength to the supposition that considerable alterations were
making in the buildings of the abbey at the time of its dissolution, and
accounts probably for some of the traces of modern architecture which
are found in it.
There were several monastic houses situated within a short distance
round Netley Abbey. To the south-east, at a distance of about six miles,
stood the Abbey of Titchfield. Immediately after the dissolution, the
site was granted to Sir Thomas Wriothesley, afterwards created Earl of
Southampton, who erected on the same spot a splendid mansion, which
Leland describes as “a right stately house, embatoled and having a
goodely gate, and a conducte (conduit) castelid in the middle of the
court of it; the very same place where the late monastrie of
Præmonstratenses stoode, caullyd Tichefelde.” The ruins of Titchfield
House are still visible. Besides the religious establishments in the
town of Southampton, at a short distance from the town, to the
north-east of Netley, stood the priory of St. Dionysius. A few miles
beyond Southampton stood the ancient Saxon nunnery of Romsey, the church
of which will repay with interest a visit from the antiquarian wanderer.
Nearly opposite Netley, on the other side of the water, stood the mother
Abbey of Beaulieu, deeply embedded in the wilds of the New Forest.
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<g>Netley Castle</g>, or <g>Fort</g>, is not a building of any considerable antiquity.
The circumstance of its not being mentioned by Leland, proves that it
did not exist before the latter end of the reign of Henry VIII. It is
commonly supposed to have been erected for the purpose of guarding this
part of the shore from invaders. It stands in the midst of a thicket of
trees, on a little hill close to the beach, and forms a striking object
as seen from the water. The tower is a modern addition, built by the
late proprietor, Mr. Chamberlayne, who is said to have taken the idea
from one of Horace Walpole’s letters, who recommended this adjunct to
render the building habitable. The castle itself consists of two small
platforms. Behind the castle stands a neat modern cottage, of an antique
Gothic design, where tea, &c. is prepared for the visitors to the ruins
of Netley Abbey.
One reason of our want of information relating to the early history of
Netley Abbey, is the circumstance that no registers or chronicles of any
monastic houses in this neighbourhood are known to exist. Literature
appears not to have flourished in this part of England. Among the
manuscripts in our great public libraries, but a few can be traced to
any of these monasteries, and we believe none to Netley. Leland mentions
but one book in the library of Netley Abbey, which was a work of Cicero;
but this is far from showing, as it has been supposed, that the library
was ill furnished, because that antiquary only noticed books of a
certain class which he found in the course of his peregrination, and did
not pretend to make an inventory of the contents of the monastic
libraries. Of Romsey Nunnery, the most ancient of the religious houses
we have just enumerated, the history is equally obscure; and the
sisters appear to have been chiefly remarkable for their irregularities.
One of the most remarkable events recorded as connected with this house,
is the circumstance that, in the reign of Henry III., the abbess had to
enforce by law her claim to the privilege of judging and hanging capital
offenders, because, from long disuse, even _her_ gallows had fallen
down. In 1314 or 1315, the Abbess of Romsey was poisoned, and suspicions
appear to have been cast upon the sisterhood. It appears by a
visitation, made in 1506, that the nuns were then accused of immoderate
_drinking_, the lady abbess setting the example by inviting the nuns to
her chamber to participate in her intemperance.
[Illustration: <g>Ground Plan of Netley Abbey.</g>
EXPLANATION OF THE REFERENCES IN THE <g>Plan</g>.--1. The Entrance Gate,
loading into, 2, the Fountain Court; 3, 3. Buildings partly
surrounding this Court, and exhibiting marks of modern alterations;
4. The Church; 5. The Sacristy; 6. The Confessional; 7. The
Chapter-House; 8. The Passage leading to the Inner Court; 9. The
Parlour; 10. The Refectory; 11. The Buttery; 12. The Kitchen; 14.
The Raised Terrace, or Floor of the Cloister, supposed to have
surrounded the Inner Court (13); 15. A Ruined Building, supposed to
have been the Abbot’s Lodgings.
]
AUTHORITIES:--The Monasticon.--Domesday Book.--Bullar’s Netley
Abbey.--Keates’ Elegy on Netley Abbey.--Giraldus Cambrensis, and
the Collections of Monkish Stories.--Leland’s Itinerary and
Collectanea.--Matthew Paris.--Robert of Gloucester.--The Early
Romances, &c.
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