Part 4 (1/2)

Pope followed, in like manner, with plentiful materials for the pavement of a certain place-good intentions; but after all, our national history has been left to the muse of Blackmore. {106}

Geoffrey was born in Monmouth, and is supposed to have been educated in the monastery, although the room pointed out as his study is evidently of a more modern date. He became archdeacon of his native town, and in 1152 was consecrated bishop of St. Asaph. This is all that is known of his history; and his works, with the exception of his great romance adverted to above, are confined to a treatise on the Holy Sacraments, and some verses on the enchanter Merlin.

Perhaps a word may not be amiss on the other worthy connected by birth with the fame and the ruins of Monmouth. Henry V. pa.s.sed some of his earliest years in this county; but in his youth was transferred to Oxford, where he studied under his uncle Cardinal Beaufort, then chancellor of the university, and where, as Stowe relates, he ”delighted in songs, meeters, and musical instruments.” He is thus described by the chronicler, on the authority of John of Elmham:

”This prince exceeded the meane stature of men, he was beautiful of visage, his necke long, body long and leane, and his bones small; neverthelesse he was of great marvellous strength, and pa.s.sing swift in running, insomuch that he with two other of his lords, without hounds, bow, or other engine, would take a wild buck or doe in a large parke.”

Henry is usually treated as a mere warrior; and it is the custom to sneer at him as such, by those who are unable to judge of the minds of men by the spirit of the age in which they live. He was remarkable, however, for more than his military prowess, and exhibited many traits of a truly great character. Some of these are very agreeably detailed by Mr. c.o.xe, who relates also, from Speed, that ”every day after dinner, for the s.p.a.ce of an hour, his custom was to lean on a cus.h.i.+on set by his cupboard, and there he himselfe received pet.i.tions of the oppressed, which with great equitie he did redresse.” His sudden change from the wild licentiousness of his youth is described by his contemporary, Thomas de Elmham, as having taken place at the bedside of his dying father; and we need not remark that in that age, the religious feeling he exhibited on the occasion was not inconsistent with the ferocity of the hero.

”The courses of his youth promis'd it not; The breath no sooner left his father's body, But that his wildness, mortified in him, Seem'd to die too: yea, at that very moment, Consideration like an angel came, And whipped the offending Adam out of him; Leaving his body as a paradise, To envellop, and contain celestial spirits.

Never was such a sudden scholar made; Never came reformation in a flood, With such a heady current, scouring faults; Nor ever hydra-headed wilfulness, So soon did lose his seat, and all at once, As in this king.”

Monmouth, as the half-way station between Ross and Chepstow for the tourists of the Wye, usually claims a large portion of their attention; and, independently of its historical a.s.sociations, the delightful walks in the neighbourhood abundantly repay it. The views from numerous points are very beautiful; and one more especially, independently of the nearer parts of the picture, commands on all sides an expanse of country which seems absolutely unlimited.

”If among these views,” says the historical tourist, ”one can be selected surpa.s.sing the rest, it is perhaps that from the summit of the Kymin, which rises from the left bank of the Wye, and is situated partly in Monmouths.h.i.+re, and partly in Gloucesters.h.i.+re. On the centre of this eminence overhanging the river and town, a pavilion has been lately erected by subscription, to which is carried a walk, gently winding up the acclivity. . . .

”I shall not attempt to describe the unbounded expanse of country around and beneath, which embraces an extent of nearly three hundred miles. The eye, satiated with the distant prospect, reposes at length on the near views, dwells on the country immediately beneath and around, is attracted with the pleasing position of Monmouth, here seen to singular advantage, admires the elegant bend and silvery current of the Monnow, glistening through meads, in its way to the Wye, and the junction of the two rivers, which forms an a.s.semblage of beautiful objects.

”The level summit of the Kymin is crowned with a beautiful wood, called Beaulieu Grove, through which walks are made, terminating in seats, placed at the edge of abrupt declivities, and presenting in perspective, through openings in the trees, portions of the unbounded expanse seen from the pavilion. There are six of these openings, three of which comprehend perspective views of Monmouth, stretching between the Wye and the Monnow, in different positions. At one of these seats, placed on a ledge of impending rocks, I looked down on a hanging wood, clothing the sides of the declivities, and sloping gradually to the Wye, which sweeps in a beautiful curve, from Dixon Church to the mouth of the Monnow; the town appears seated on its banks, and beyond the luxuriant and undulating swells of Monmouths.h.i.+re, terminated by the Great and Little Skyrrid, the Black Mountains, and the Sugar Loaf, in all the variety of sublime and contrasted forms.”

It is not our intention to notice any of the numerous seats and mansions with which this delightful region abounds; but, leaving the tourist to make such easy discoveries for himself, we would hint to him that, while at Monmouth, he has an opportunity, without great expense of time or labour, of making himself acquainted with many interesting objects which ought to be considered as adjuncts of the tour of the Wye. Between this place and the Hay the river describes an irregular semicircle, of which the Monnow, for about half way, may be said to be the cord; and this latter stream, as the most important and beautiful tributary of the Wye, has a claim upon the pilgrim which should not be set aside.

This minor excursion, however, will not be complete without diverging a little to the left at the outset for the purpose of visiting White Castle; for this ruin is inseparably a.s.sociated with the other reliques of baronial power presented by the route. It is within a short distance of Landeilo Cresseney on the Abergavenny road, where a farm will be pointed out to the traveller, called the Park, belonging to the duke of Beaufort, as the site of Old Court, formerly the residence of the valiant Sir David Gam, who, before the battle of Agincourt, reported to Henry V.

that there were ”enough of the enemy to be killed, enough to run away, and enough to be taken prisoners.” It is said that the children of this Welsh worthy were so numerous as to form a line extending from his house to the church. From Gladys, one of these children, the dukes of Beaufort and earls of Pembroke are descended. The farm alluded to was formerly the red deer park of Raglan Castle.

White Castle must have been constructed in the earliest period of the Norman era, if not before the conquest; and the ma.s.sive ruins that still remain attest that it must have kept the country side in awe, as the abode of one of those fierce barons who were the prototypes of the giants and dragons of the romancers. This fortress, with those of Scenfrith and Grosmont on the banks of the Monnow, belonged to Brien Fitz Count, the Norman conqueror of the tract called Overwent, stretching from the Wye to Abergavenny; and they were afterwards seized by Henry III., and given by him to the celebrated Herbert de Burgh. Herbert resigned them anew to the crown, after being imprisoned and almost famished to death. Henry granted them to his son Edward Crouchback, and they afterwards fell to John of Gaunt, in the way we have related of Monmouth Castle, and became parcel of the duchy of Lancaster.

The ruins stand on the ridge of an eminence, surrounded by a moat. The walls, which are very ma.s.sive, describe nearly an oval, and are defended by six round towers, not dividing the courtine in the usual way, but altogether extramural, and capable, therefore, of acting as independent fortresses, even after the inner court had been taken. The princ.i.p.al entrance was protected by a portcullis and drawbridge, and by an immense barbican, greatly disproportioned to the size of the castle, on the opposite site of the moat. The name of the place was Castell Gwyn, White Castle, or Castell Blanch, all which mean the same thing in British, Saxon, and Norman.

In the time of James I., it is presented as ”ruinous and in decay time out of mind,” and yet, during the reign of his immediate predecessor Elizabeth, it is described in the Worthines of Wales as ”a loftie princely place.”

”Three castles fayre are in a goodly ground, Grosmont is one, on hill it builded was; Skenfrith the next, in valley it is found, The soyle about for pleasure there doth pa.s.se; Whit Castle is the third of worthy fame, The county there doth bear Whit Castle's name, A stately seate, a loftie princely place, Whose beauties give the simple soyle some grace.”

Scenfrith is not more than five miles from White Castle, but the access to it is only fit for pedestrians. The ruin stands on a secluded spot in the midst of hills, and overlooks the placid Monnow, the pa.s.sage of which it was no doubt its duty to guard. It is a small fortress severely simple, and exhibiting all the marks of high antiquity. There are no traces of outworks; but the walls are flanked by five circular towers.

About the middle of the area is a round tower, which was the keep or citadel. Scenfrith seems to have no history peculiarly its own; it was one of ”the three castles,” changing hands with them apparently as a matter of course, and that was enough for its ambition.

The road from Scenfrith to Grosmont leads through Newcastle; but the remains of the fortress, from which this place derived its name, are barely discernible, and its history has for ever perished. In the absence of human a.s.sociations, however, it is well provided with those of another kind. The mount, or barrow, under which its fragments are hidden, is the haunt of spirits; and an oak tree in the neighbourhood is so completely protected by such means, that an attempt even to lop a branch is sure to be punished by supernatural power.

The ruins of Grosmont Castle stand on an eminence near the Monnow, surrounded by a dry moat, with barbican and other outworks. Its pointed arches declare it by far the youngest of the three sisters. The remains now left enclose only a small area; but walls and foundations may be traced, which show that its original size was really considerable, and this is confirmed by the presence of a s.p.a.cious apartment, which no doubt formed the great baronial hall. In the reign of Henry III. it was invested by Llewellin, and the siege raised by the king; and, on another occasion, Henry retreated to Grosmont, where his troops were surprised by the Welsh as they slept in the trenches, and lost five hundred horses, besides baggage and treasure. The banks of the Monnow, from which the ruins rise, are precipitous, and tufted with oaks, and the whole scene is singularly picturesque. The hero of the village tradition is here John of Kent, or Guent, who built a bridge over the Monnow in a single night, by means of one of his familiar spirits. Many other stories as wonderful are related of him by the inhabitants; some say he was a monk, versed in the black art; others that he was a disciple of Owen Glendowr; and others that he was the great magician himself.

At Grosmont the line of the Monnow turns away to the west, towards its source among the Black Mountains; but the traveller who eschews more fatigue than is necessary will take the route by Craig-gate and Crickhowell, and so get into a road which will lead him along the Honddy, a tributary of the Monnow, to the magnificent ruins of Lanthony Abbey, the furthest object we propose to him in this subsidiary tour.

”Here it was, stranger, that the patron saint Of Cambria pa.s.sed his age of penitence- A solitary man; and here he made His hermitage; the roots his food, his drink Of Honddy's mountain-stream. Perchance thy youth Has read with eager wonder how the knight Of Wales, in Ormandine's enchanted bowers, Slept the long sleep: and if that in thy veins Flows the pure blood of Britain, sure that blood Has flowed with quicker impulse at the tale Of Dafydd's deeds, when through the press of war His gallant comrades followed his green crest To conquests. Stranger! Hatterel's mountain heights, And this fair vale of Cwias, and the stream Of Honddy, to thine after thoughts will rise More grateful, thus a.s.sociate with the name Of Dafydd and the deeds of other days.”

”After catching a transient view of the Honddy,” says archdeacon c.o.xe, ”winding through a deep glen, at the foot of hills overspread with wood and sprinkled with white cottages, we proceeded along a hollow way, which deepened as we advanced, and was scarcely broad enough to admit the carriage. In this road, which, with more propriety might be termed a ditch, we heard the roar of the torrent beneath, but seldom enjoyed a view of the circ.u.mjacent scenery. We pa.s.sed under a bridge thrown across the chasm, to preserve the communication with the fields on each side: this bridge was framed of the trunks of trees, and secured with side rails, to prevent the tottering pa.s.senger from falling in the abyss beneath. It brought to my recollection several bridges of similar construction, which I observed in Norway, which are likewise occasionally used as aqueducts, for the purposes of irrigation. Emerging from this gloomy way, we were struck with the romantic village of Cwnyoy, on the opposite bank of the Honddy, hanging on the sides of the abrupt cliff, under a perpendicular rock, broken into enormous fissures. We continued for some way between the torrent and the Gaer, and again plunged into a hollow road, where we were enclosed, and saw nothing but the overhanging hedgerows. . . . The abbey was built like a cathedral, in the shape of Roman crosses, and though of small dimensions, was well proportioned.

The length, from the western door to the eastern extremity, is 210 feet; and the breadth, including two aisles, 50; the length of the transept, from north to south, 100. It was constructed soon after the introduction of the Gothic architecture, and before the disuse of the Norman, and is a regular composition of both styles. The whole roof, excepting a small fragment of the north aisle, is fallen down, and the building is extremely dilapidated. The nave alone exhibits a complete specimen of the original plan, and is separated on each side by the two aisles, by eight pointed arches, resting on piers of the simplest construction, which are divided from the upper tier of Norman arches by a straight band of _fascia_. From the small fragment in the northern aisle, the roofs seem to have been vaulted and engroined, and the springing columns, by which it was supported, are still visible on the wall. Four bold arches, in the centre of the church, supported a square tower, two sides of which only remain. The ornamental arch in the eastern window, which appears in the engraving of Mr. Wyndham's Tour, and in that published by Hearne, has now fallen. The only vestiges of the choir are a part of the south wall, with a Norman door, that led into the side aisle, and the east end of the south wall; a bold Norman arch, leading from the transept into the southern aisle of the choir, still exists. The walls of the southern aisle are wholly dilapidated; and the side view of the two ranges of Gothic arches, stretching along the nave, is singularly picturesque; the outside wall of the northern aisle is entire, excepting a small portion of the western extremity; the windows of this part are wholly Norman, and make a grand appearance. In a word, the western side is most elegant; the northern side is most entire; the southern the most picturesque; the eastern the most magnificent.”

The abbey originated in a small chapel, built here as a hermitage by St.