Part 14

In the vicinity of Monmouth is a remarkably high hill, called the KYMIN, which rises from the banks of the Wye, on the Gloucestershire side of the river. A pleasant walk is traced to its summit, from which a wonderful range of prospect extends to a circumference of near three hundred miles. It would be tedious to enumerate the multifarious objects that present themselves in this great prospect: if any one be eminently beautiful, it is the diversified undulating vale of Monmouth, enlivened by its picturesque town and spire, and watered by the Wye, the Monnow, and the Trothy, limpidly meandering through fertile hollows, and at length uniting, in the course of the former river, at the foot of the hill. At the top of the Kymin, a handsome pavilion has been lately erected for the accommodation of parties; its summit is also adorned with a rich wood called Beaulieu grove, which, descending over part of its precipitous sides, forms its proudest ornament. Several walks cut through the wood terminate at the brow of steep declivities, commanding great and enchanting views; and which in the spring, as I am told, from the universality of apple orchards in this district, are as singular as they are beautiful.

There are several antique mansions in the neighbourhood of Monmouth that deserve notice. About a mile from the town, on the left of the road to Raglan, is WONASTOW-HOUSE, formerly a residence of a branch of the Herbert family, {285} which is conjectured to have been built about the reign of Henry the Sixth. Its situation, on a gentle eminence commanding many extensive views, is extremely pleasant; and the surrounding farm-lands still bear traces of its park in several groves of ancient oaks and elms. The edifice, though much diminished in extent and divided into two distinct habitations, is still a venerable relic of the times, and contains several original family portraits. The old chapel belonging to the mansion is now applied to domestic use.

TREOWEN, situated about a mile further westward, to the north of the road to Raglan, was once a splendid mansion, built by Inigo Jones, and which belonged to another scion from the Herbert stock. The position of the house and grounds, now laid out in a farm, is very delightful, watered by the meandering Trothy, and still exhibiting a profusion of rich woods. Though occupied as a farmhouse, and much reduced in dimensions, the mansion continues to shew many marks of its ancient grandeur, in the spacious and decorative style of the apartments, a noble staircase of oak, and its ornamented porch.

TROY-HOUSE, standing within a mile south-east of Monmouth, near the road to Chepstow, was a residence of a further ramification of the prolific Herbert race. {287} Part of the ancient residence is visible in a Gothic gateway; but the house is of a later date, its erection being, as well as the preceding, attributed to Inigo Jones. Neither the house, though extensive, nor its situation, in a hollow near the river Trothy, possess any claim to admiration. Throughout the apartments a large collection of family pictures is arranged, which contains the portraits of many distinguished characters, but very few specimens of fine painting. In the housekeeper's room is a curious oak chimney-piece, brought from Raglan Castle, carved with scriptural subjects; and in a room on the third floor is another ancient chimney-piece inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and curiously ornamented with devices of Love and Plenty.

About three miles further on the road to Chepstow is the village of TRELECH, which is supposed to have derived its name from three druidical stones standing in a field adjoining the road, near the church. They are placed upright, or rather inclining; of different heights, varying between ten and fifteen feet; and the exterior stones are the one fourteen, and the other twenty feet distant from the middle pillar: their substance is a concretion of silicious pebbles in a calcareous bed, commonly called pudding-stone, and of which some neighbouring rocks consist. This monument of antiquity is considered to have been the supporting part of a cromlech; but the stones being so far asunder invalidates the conjecture. Various large masses of the same sort of stone in the vicinity of Trelech seem to indicate the remains of other works of the same kind.

In the village, inclosed by a garden, is an earthen mound four hundred and fifty feet in diameter, encircled by a moat, and connected with extensive entrenchments; which is imagined to have been a Roman work, and afterwards to have been the site of a castle belonging to the Earls of Clare. The village is also remarkable for a chalybeate well that was formerly much attended. Near the church, which deserves to be noticed for the agreeable proportions of its Gothic members and its handsome spire, is a pedestal with a sun-dial, supposed to be of high antiquity: it bears a Latin inscription, commemorating Harold's victory over the Britons. Large quantities of iron scoria, scattered over the fields near the village, are generally allowed to indicate that a Roman bloomery was established near the spot.

From this place the road soon ascends the Devaudon height, traverses a tract of forest called Chepstow Park, and in the course of its progress embraces several superb and extensive views; in which the varieties of the Wye, of hanging woods, wild heathy mountains, and rich inclosures, rise in succession.

We made an excursion from Monmouth, on the road to Hereford, as far as Grosmont. Proceeding through a charming country about three miles, we struck off on the right to visit PERTHIR, a very ancient seat of the Herbert family. Of the castellated mansion, surrounded by a moat and two drawbridges, few vestiges appear in the present diminished and patched-up building; yet some marks of former magnificence meet the observer, in a long vaulted hall, with a music gallery at the end, a large Gothic window with stone compartments, and the massive oak beams of a long passage. The extensive manors that were attached to Perthir, and which, as tradition relates, extended from thence to Ross, now exhibit but a sorry remnant of past opulence.

Mr. Lorimer, the present possessor of the estate, and a descendant of the Herberts by the female line, merrily relates an anecdote rising out of a contest for precedence between the houses of Perthir and Werndee; and which, it has been remarked, was carried on with as much inveteracy as that between the houses of York and Lancaster, and was only perhaps less bloody, as they had not the power of sacrificing the lives of thousands in their foolish quarrel. Mr. Proger, of Werndee, in company with a friend, returning from Monmouth to his home, was suddenly overtaken by a violent storm; and, unable to proceed, groped his way for refuge to his cousin Powell's, at Perthir. The family was retired to rest; but the loud calls of the tempest-beaten travellers soon brought Mr. Powell to a window; and a few words informed him of his relation's predicament; requesting a night's lodging: "What! is it you, cousin Proger? you and your friend shall be instantly admitted;--but upon one condition, that you will never dispute with me hereafter upon my being the head of the family."--"No, sir," returned Mr. Proger, "were it to rain swords and daggers, I would drive this night to Werndee; rather than lower the consequence of my family." Here a string of arguments was brought forward on each side; which however interesting to the parties, would prove very trifling in relation; and which, like all other contests grounded in prejudice and proceeded in with petulance; but served to fix both parties more firmly in their errors. They parted in the bitterest enmity; and the stranger, who had silently waited the issue of the contest, in vain solicited a shelter from the storm; for he was a friend of cousin Proger's!

Leaving Perthir, we soon passed through the little village of Newcastle, which derives its name from a castle that may still be traced in an earthen mound 300 feet in circumference, and some intrenchments, but whose history no tradition reaches. This barrow, and an ancient oak of extraordinary size, are considered by the superstitious neighbourhood to be under the immediate protection of spirits and fairies, and to form the scene of their nocturnal revels. A spring near the village is deemed miraculous in the cure of rheumatic and other disorders.

Within a mile from this place we struck off the turnpike towards SCRENFRITH CASTLE, situated on the banks of the Monnow, in a sequestered spot environed by high hills. This fortress is of the simplest construction; its area, of a trapezium form, is merely surrounded by a curtain wall with circular towers covering each angle, and a demi-turret projecting from the middle of one side. Near the centre of the area is a juliet, or high round tower, upon a mound, which formed the keep, the door and window apertures of which are circularly arched; but the exterior walls of the castle appear to have been originally only furnished with oilets or chinks for shooting arrows through. Encumbered by the lowly habitations of a poor village, it has little claim to picturesque merit from most points of view; but on the opposite side of the Monnow, combined with a Gothic bridge of two arches crossing the stream, it forms a pleasing picture. Screnfrith Castle is allowed to be the oldest in Monmouthshire; it is certainly of British erection, and is probably of as remote antiquity as any in Wales.

Screnfrith, Grosmont, and White Castles, formerly defended the lordship of Overwent; which, extending from the Wye to the Usk, nearly comprised the whole northern portion of Monmouthshire. This tract of country, with its castles, fell into the hands of Brian Fitz Count, Earl of Hereford, who came over with the Conqueror; but soon deviated from his family, and was afterwards seized by Henry the Third, and conferred on his favourite Hubert de Burgh. Upon the disgrace of that virtuous and able minister, the capricious monarch granted the three castles to his son the Earl of Lancaster; and, with Caldecot castle, they still remain annexed to the dutchy.

The continuance of our journey to Grossmont, wandering in an irriguous valley among bye-lanes that were scarcely passable, although it proved very tedious in travelling, afforded us a succession of the most pleasing retired scenes imaginable. On our right a diversity of swells and hollows, variously clad in wild woods or cultivation, extended throughout our ride, where the lively and transparent Monnow, illumined by

"The noon-tide beams Which sparkling dances on the trembling stream,"

serpentized its current in endless variety. Immediately on our left, the Graig, a huge solitary mountain, reared its towering sides from the low lands in uncontended majesty, and accompanied our road to the pleasing little village of GROSMONT.

This place stands at the north-eastern limit of Monmouthshire, in an agreeable undulating valley, diversified with wood and pasture, and beautifully accompanied by the meandering Monnow, here wantoning its most fantastic course. On an eminence near the village, and swelling above the river, is the picturesque ruin of its castle; a pile of no great extent, but well disposed, and profusely decorated with shrubs and ivy. The form of the structure is irregular: large circular towers cover the angles of the ramparts; within which are traces of the baronial hall, and other apartments, and beyond the mount are some remains of the barbican, or redoubt, and several entrenchments. All the door and window arches are pointed Gothic, and of the proportion in use about the thirteenth century; but the foundation of the castle is supposed to be coeval with that of Screnfrith's.--Grosmont church is a large Gothic structure, built in the form of a Roman cross; and, with its octagon tower, and high tapering spire, is a conspicuous ornament to the village.

Though now an insignificant cluster of habitations, Grosmont was formerly a town of some note. Many exterior traces of buildings, and raised causeways, constructed like Roman roads with large blocks of stone, diverging from it, prove its antique extent and importance to have been considerable: nor is the legend of the place deficient in asserting its quondam consequence.

But with still higher interest, with more voluble earnestness, the natives recount the exploits of their reputed necromancer, JOHN OF KENT. Among a thousand other instances of his magical skill, they confidently assure you, that when he was a boy, being ordered to protect some corn from the birds, he conjured all the crows in the neighbourhood into a barn without a roof, and by force of his incantations obliged them to remain there while he visited Grosmont fair. A greater service that he performed for the country was, his building the bridge over the Monnow in one night by the agency of one of his familiars. Long did his strange actions frighten men out of their wits; and at length, dying, he outwitted the devil; for, in consideration of services while living, he agreed to surrender himself to his satanic majesty after his death, whether he was buried in or out of church; but, by ordering his body to be interred under the church wall, he contrived to slip out of the contract. A stone in the church-yard, near the chancel, is said to mark the spot of this interment.

Higher tradition relates, that this extraordinary-personage was a monk, who, possessing a greater knowledge in natural philosophy than could at that time be generally comprehended, was reputed a sorcerer. The family of the Scudamores, at Kentchurch-house, about a mile from Grosmont, where he became domesticated, had a Latin translation of the Bible written by him on vellum, but which is now lost. An ancient painting of him upon wood is, however, preserved in the mansion; and a cellar in the house is described to have been the stable of his horses; steeds of no vulgar pedigree, which carried him through the air with more than the speed of witches.

From a collation of different legends and circumstances, several respectable enquirers are inclined to believe, that this necromancer was no other than the famous Owen Glendower; who, after his defeat, and the dispersion of his army, concealed himself in the disguise of a bard, or wizard. A strong circumstance which favours this conjecture is, that the daughter of Glendower married a Scudamore, who at the time occupied Kentchurch-house. It may also be remarked, that neither the time of the chief's death, nor the place of his sepulture, were ever positively ascertained.

Upon our return to Monmouth from this excursion, we had the good fortune to fall into the company of Mr. Wathen of Hereford, the benefit of whose local information and obliging assiduities has been felt by numerous tourists, as well as ourselves. This gentleman pointed out the most striking beauties of the Wye toward Ross; and of his directions we gladly availed ourselves the following morning, when we bade adieu to Wales and Monmouthshire. But, as it is my object to effect a general delineation of that tract of country, I shall not hesitate to break the thread of my tour, and suspend a description of the Wye's scenery and some further continuance of our route, while I traverse the north-western part of Monmouthshire, and the eastern frontier of South-Wales, which yet remains unexplored. In this part of my work, I must describe things as they appeared to me six years since, when I visited this portion of country in my return from a tour through the North of England and Wales, assisted by the best documents and observations that I have since been able to procure.

CHAP. XIX.

ABBEY OF GRACE-DIEU--SIR DAVID GAM--WHITE CASTLE--ABERGAVENNY HILLS--THE TOWN, CASTLE, AND CHURCH.

Within a short distance southward of the road from Monmouth to Abergavenny, and about three miles from the first-mentioned town, are the small remains of the abbey of GRACE-DIEU, chiefly formed into a barn, situated on a sequestered bank of the Trothy. A farm on the opposite side of the river was the park belonging to the abbey; and hence it is called Parc-gras-dieu farm; the house of which is built on the ruins of the ancient lodge.

LLANDILO CRESSENEY, the seat of Richard Lewis, Esq.; pleasingly situated in a rich undulating country to the south of the road, about half way to Abergavenny, is a modern house built on the site of an ancient mansion of the Powells. The position commands an interesting prospect of the neighbouring country; and in the home view the church of Llandilo, with its high spire, forms a picturesque and leading object. In an adjoining field, belonging to a farm that was formerly the red-deer park of Raglan castle, is the site of Old Court, once the residence of the celebrated Sir David Gam, not less known for his courageous report upon having reconnoitred the enemy before the battle of Agincourt ("An't please you, my liege, there are enough to be kilted, enough to run away, and enough to be taken prisoners") than for his valorous achievements and preservation of the king's life in the encounter, though at the expence of his own. The dukes of Beaufort and the earls of Pembroke are descended from Gladys, one of his numerous progeny, which tradition has by no means curtailed; for it is asserted, that his children formed a line reaching from his house to the church.

The ruins of WHITE CASTLE are very considerable, crowning the summit of a ridgy eminence a mile and a half to the north of Llandilo. Their figure is irregular; flanked by six circular towers, which, with the ramparts, are pierced with oilets. Two advancing massive towers guard the entrance, which was provided with a portcullis and drawbridge, and rendered still more formidable by an uncommonly large outwork beyond the moat, which is remarkably deep. This ruin is from every point of view imposing and grand; but its ponderous unornamented towers, and its lofty battlements, whose dark colour is rendered still more dismal by the broad shadows of impendent foliage, rather conspire to raise an image of baronical haughtiness and oppression, than of its show and hospitality; yet, in the time of Elizabeth, Churchyard describes it to be

"A statelie seate, a loftie princelie place, Whose beautie gives the simple soyle some grace."

From the architecture of this castle I should suppose its antiquity to be at least coeval with the first settlement of the Normans in Gwent, if not even more remote. Its history is common with that of Screnfrith and Grosmont; but over both these it holds a decided superiority in extent, and massiveness of construction.

On approaching ABERGAVENNY, the tourist's attention is involuntarily arrested by the singular beauty and variety of interest which the spot embraces, particularly in its encircling hills. The road skirting the Little Skyridd, a well-formed hill richly laid out in wood and pasture, opens to a fine display of the vale of Usk beneath; on the opposite side of which the continuous ridge of the wild Pontypool hills, which form the western boundary of the county, terminate in the heathy high-swelling Blorenge: a tract of wood sweeps along its base, and mixes with the sylvan knoll of Lanfoist, decorating its northern extremity. Further to the right, the elegant smooth cone of the Sugar-loaf, the highest of the Monmouthshire mountains, presents itself, issuing from among the four tributary eminences of the Pen-y-vale hills. Eastward of this mountain is the Great Skyridd, an object of considerable interest; its bipartite and truly Alpine summit, without being a forced opposition, strikingly contrasts the general undulating line of the neighbouring hills, and rears a distinct and noble character on the scene. The views from this mountain are scarcely inferior to those from the Sugar-loaf; while its craggy form, its asperitous summit, jagged into an immense fissure, and shelving to a ridge apex of fearful narrowness, impress a mixed emotion of awe and admiration on the adventurous climber of the height, that more than compensates for a small inferiority of altitude. There was formerly, at the top of this mountain, a Roman Catholic chapel dedicated to St. Michael, of which no vestiges remain; but a remembrance of the site is preserved in a hollow place formed by the superstitious, who, resorting here on Michaelmas eve, carry away the earth to strew over the sepulchres of their friends. According to the barometrical measurement of General Roy, the height of the Sugar-loaf mountain is 1852 feet perpendicular above the Gavenny rivulet, near its junction with the Usk. The Blorenge is 1720, and the Great Skyridd 1498 feet from the same level.

The expansive bases of these mountains, nearly approximating, descend to a finely-wooded fertile valley; through which the river Usk, rushing from a majestic portal of wood, winds in a bright translucid stream, with all the impetuosity of its mountain character. At the foot of one of the confederated hills sustaining the towering cone of the Sugar-loaf, which gently inclines to the river, ABERGAVENNY is situated; a straggling irregular town, pleasingly interspersed with trees, but deriving its highest attraction from the charms of its position.

Upon an eminence above the river, near the southern extremity of the town, is the ruined castle, which in its present state exhibits very few memorials of former magnificence. The gate-house, or principal entrance, is tolerably entire, and vestiges of two courts may be traced among the broken walls; but of the citadel no traces remain, although an intrenched mound close to the ruins evidently marks its site. The town was also fortified, and many portions of the work remain, particularly Tudor's gate, the western entrance, furnished with two portcullisses, and remarkable for the beautifully composed landscape seen through it. This castle is said to have been built by a giant named Agros: without contending for the accuracy of this tradition, however, it is certain, that the principal part was erected by the Normans upon the site of a British fortress.

In the twelfth century some native forces, headed by Sitfylt ap Dyfnwald, a Welch prince, assailed this castle, and took prisoners the Anglo-Norman garrison, with their chief, William-de-Braose, lord of Brecon. William being, upon an adjustment of differences, reinstated in his possessions, invited Sitfylt, his son Geoffery, and other chieftains of Gwent, to a great feast at Abergavenny Castle, where they were all treacherously murdered: he then surprised Sitfylt's house, and slew his other son, Cadwallader, in the presence of his mother. This barbarity did not escape punishment. William, flying his country, died a wretched wanderer at Paris; and his wife and son were famished in Windsor Castle. The fate of his grandson, Reginald, may also be considered in the light of a retribution: Llewelyn prince of Wales, suspecting him, as Dugdale relates, "of over much familiarity with his wife," subtilly invited him to an eastern feast; and towards the close of the banquet, charging him with the act, threw him into prison, where he suffered a violent death, together with the adultress. In 1273, we find the country of Overwent, including the castle of Abergavenny, in the possession of John de Hastings, a very pink of chivalry. A succession of valorous knights inherited this domain; but Richard Earl of Warwick, who became lord of Abergavenny in the commencement of the fifteenth century, surpassed them all, and even John himself, in military fame, and manners debonnair: he signalized himself in tournaments at most of the courts in Europe, and obtained the honourable appellation of "the father of courtesy."