Chapter 28

All the time the energetic Earl of Surrey was marshalling the English hosts, and, marching with twenty-six thousand men northward through Durham, received there the sacred banner of St. Cuthbert. On September 4th. Surrey challenged James to battle, which the king accepted against the advice of his best councillors. The Scots had become restive under the king's do-nothing policy, and many of them left the camp and returned home with the booty already acquired. James selected a strong position on Flodden Hill, with both flanks protected and having the deep and sluggish waters of the Till flowing in front. Surrey advanced and reconnoitred, and then sent the king a herald requesting him to descend into the plain, as he acted ungallantly in thus practically shutting himself up in a fortress. The king would not admit the herald. Surrey then attempted a stratagem. Crossing the Till on the 8th, he encamped at Barmoor Wood, about two miles from the Scottish position, concealing his movement from the enemy. On the 9th he marched down the Till to near its confluence with the Tweed, and recrossed to the eastern bank. This, too, was uninterrupted by the Scots, who remained strangely inactive, though it is recorded that the chief Scottish nobles implored the king to attack the English. The aged Earl Angus begged him either to assault the English or retreat. "If you are afraid, Angus," replied the king, "you can go home." The master of artillery implored the king to allow him to bring his guns to bear upon the English, but James returned the reply that he would meet his antagonist on equal terms in a fair field, and scorned to take an advantage. Then Surrey drew up his line between James and the Border, and advanced up the valley of the Till towards the Scots. The king set fire to the temporary huts on the hillside where he had been encamped, and descended to the valley, the smoke concealing the movements of each army from the other; but Surrey's stratagem was thus successful in drawing him from his strong position. The English van was led by Lord Thomas Howard, Surrey commanding the main body, Sir Edward Stanley the rear, and Lord Dacre the reserves. The Scottish advance was led by the Earls of Home and Huntley, the king leading the centre, the Earls of Lennox and Argyle the rear, and the reserves, consisting of the flower of the Lothians, were under the Earl of Bothwell. The battle began at four in the afternoon, when the Scottish advance charged upon the right wing of the English advance and routed it. Dacre promptly galloped forward with his reserves, and restored the fortunes of the day for the English right. The main bodies in the mean time became engaged in a desperate contest. The Scottish king in his ardor forgot that the duties of a commander were distinct from the indiscriminate valor of a knight, and placed himself in front of his spearmen, surrounded by his nobles, who, while they deplored the gallant weakness of such conduct, disdained to leave their sovereign unprotected. Dacre and Howard, having defeated the Scottish wing in front of them, at this time turned their full strength against the flank of the Scottish centre. It was a terrific combat, the Scots fighting desperately in an unbroken ring around their king. The battle lasted till night, and almost annihilated the Scottish forces. Of all the splendid host, embracing the flower of the nobility and chivalry of the kingdom, only a few haggard and wounded stragglers returned to tell the tale. The English victors lost five thousand slain, and the Scots more than twice that number, and among them the greatest men of the land. They left on the field their king, two bishops, two mitred abbots, twenty-seven peers and their sons, and there was scarcely a family of any position in Scotland that did not lose a relative there. The young Earl of Caithness and his entire band of three hundred followers perished on the field. The body of the dead king, afterwards found by Dacre, was taken to Berwick and presented to his commander, who had it embalmed and conveyed to the monastery of Sheyne in Surrey. The poetic instincts of the Scots were deeply moved by the woes of the fatal field of Flodden, and innumerable poems and ballads record the sad story, the crowning work of all being Scott's _Marmion_.

BAMBOROUGH AND GRACE DARLING.

North of Flodden Field, and not far distant, is the Scottish Border, which in this part is made by the river Tweed, with Berwick at its mouth. The two kingdoms, so long in hot quarrel, are now united by a magnificent railway-bridge, elevated one hundred and twenty-five feet above the river and costing $600,000. For miles along the coast the railway runs almost upon the edge of the ocean, elevated on the cliffs high above the sea, while off the coast are Holy Isle and Lindisfarne. Here St. Cuthbert was the bishop, and its abbey is a splendid ruin, while on the rocky islet of Farne he lived a hermit, encompassing his cell with a mound so high that he could see nothing but the heavens. Two miles from Farne, on the mainland, was the royal city of Bebban Burgh, now Bamborough, the castle standing upon an almost perpendicular rock rising one hundred and fifty feet and overlooking the sea. This was King Ida's castle, a Border stronghold in ancient times whose massive keep yet stands. It is now a charity-school, a lighthouse, and a life-saving station. Thirty beds are kept in the restored castle for shipwrecked sailors, and Bamborough is to the mariner on that perilous coast what the convent of St. Bernard is to the traveller in the Alps. Here, at this Border haven, we will close this descriptive tour by recalling Bamborough's most pleasant memory--that of Grace Darling. She was a native of the place, and was lodged, clothed, and educated at the school in Bamborough Castle. Her remains lie in Bamborough churchyard under an altar-tomb bearing her recumbent figure and surmounted by a Gothic canopy. She is represented lying on a plaited straw mattrass and holding an oar. All this coast is beset with perils and wrecks have been frequent. The islet of Farne and a cluster of other rocks off shore add to the dangers, and on some of them there are lighthouses. One of these rocks--Longstone Island--Grace Darling rendered memorable by her intrepidity in perilling her life during the storm of September, 1838. Her father was the keeper of Longstone Light, and on the night of September 6 the Forfarshire steamer, proceeding from Hull to Dundee, was wrecked there. Of fifty-three persons on board, thirty-eight perished, and on the morning of the 7th, Grace, then about twenty-three years of age, discovered the survivors clinging to the rocks and remnants of the steamer, in imminent danger of being washed off by the returning tide. With her parents' assistance, but against their remonstrance, Grace launched a boat, and with her father succeeded in rescuing nine of them, while six escaped by other means. Presents and demonstrations of admiration were showered upon her from all parts of the kingdom, and a public subscription of $3500 was raised for her benefit. Poor Grace died four years later of consumption. A monument to her has been placed in St. Cuthbert's Chapel on Longstone Island, and upon it is this inscription, from Wordsworth:

"Pious and pure, modest, and yet so brave, Though young, so wise--though meek, so resolute.

"Oh that winds and waves could speak Of things which their united power called forth From the pure depths of her humanity! A maiden gentle, yet at duty's call Firm and unflinching as the lighthouse reared On the island-rock, her lonely dwelling-place; Or, like the invincible rock itself, that braves, Age after age, the hostile elements, As when it guarded holy Cuthbert's cell.

"All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused, When, as day broke, the maid, through misty air, Espies far off a wreck amid the surf, Beating on one of those disastrous isles-- Half of a vessel, half--no more; the rest Had vanished!"

VI.

LONDON, WESTWARD TO MILFORD HAVEN.

The Cotswolds--The River Severn--Gloucester--Berkeley Castle--New Inn--Gloucester Cathedral--Lampreys--Tewkesbury; its Mustard, Abbey, and Battle--Wercester; its Battle--Charles II.'s Escape--Worcester Cathedral--The Malvern Hills--Worcestershire Beacon--Herefordshire Beacon--Great Malvern--St. Anne's Well--The River Wye--Clifford Castle--Hereford--Old Butcher's Row--Nell Gwynne's Birthplace--Ross--The Man of Ross--Ross Church and its Trees--Walton Castle--Goodrich Castle--Forest of Dean--Coldwell--Symond's Yat--The Dowards--Monmouth--Kymin Hill--Raglan Castle--Redbrook--St. Briard Castle--Tintern Abbey--The Wyncliff--Wyntour's Leap--Chepstow Castle--The River Monnow--The Golden Valley--The Black Mountains--Pontrilas Court--Ewias Harold--Abbey Dore--The Scyrrid Vawr--Wormridge--Kilpeck--Oldcastle--Kentchurch--Grosmont--The Vale of Usk--Abergavenny--Llanthony Priory--Walter Savage Landor--Capel-y-Ffyn--Newport--Penarth Roads--Cardiff--The Rocking-Stone--Llandaff--Caerphilly Castle and its Leaning Tower--Swansea--The Mumbles--Oystermouth Castle--Neath Abbey--Caermarthen--Tenby--Manorbeer Castle--Golden Grove--Pembroke--Milford--Haverfordwest--Milford Haven--Pictou Castle--Carew Castle.

GLOUCESTER.

Journeying westward from the metropolis and beyond the sources of the Thames, let us mount to the tops of the Cotswold Hills, in which they take their rise, and look down upon the valley of the noble Severn River beyond. We have already seen the Severn at Shrewsbury, Wenlock, and Bridgenorth, and, uniting with the classic Avon, it drains the western slopes of the Cotswolds, and, flowing through a deep valley between them and the Malvern Hills, finally debouches through a broad estuary into the British Channel. There is much of interest to the tourist along the banks and in neighborhood of this well-known river. As we stand upon the elevations of the Cotswolds and look over "Sabrina fair," the lower part of its valley is seen as a broad and fertile plain, and the Severn's "glassy, cool, translucent wave," as the poet has it, flows through a land of meadows, orchards, and cornfields, with the hills of the Forest of Dean rising on the western horizon. Alongside the river is the cathedral city of Gloucester, the dépôt for a rich agricultural region and for the mining wealth of Dean Forest, the Berkeley Canal leading from its docks for sixteen miles down the Severn until the deep water of the estuary is reached. The Romans early saw the importance of this place as a military post, and founded Glevum here, upon their Ermine Street road, as an outpost fortress upon the border-land of the Silures. Fragments of tessellated pavements, coins, and other relics from time to time exhumed attest the extent of the Roman settlement. When the Britons succeeded the Romans, this settlement became gradually transformed into Gleawecesore, forming part of the kingdom of Mercia, and in the seventh century Æthelred bestowed it upon Osric, who founded a monastery here. Athelstan died here in 941, and a few years afterwards the Danes, who overrun and devastated almost the whole of England, burned the town and monastery. The history of Gloucester, however, was without stirring incidents, excepting an occasional destructive fire, until the siege took place in the Civil War, its people devoting themselves more to commerce than to politics, and in the early part of the seventeenth century engaging extensively in the manufacture of pins. Gloucester, however, gave the title to several earls and dukes, generally men not much envied; as, for instance, Richard Crookback, who sent from Gloucester the order for the murder of his nephews, the young princes, in the Tower. But the town never took kindly to him, and warmly welcomed Richmond on his avenging march to Bosworth Field. The siege of Gloucester was made by King Charles's troops, the citizens having warmly espoused the cause of the Parliament and strongly fortified their city, mounting guns for its defence which they got from London. A polygonal line of fortifications surrounded Gloucester, which was then much smaller than now, and the bastions came down to the river, with outlying works to defend a small suburb on the opposite bank. The Cavaliers were in great strength in Western England, and the malignity of the Gloucester pin-makers seriously embarrassed them. On August 10, 1643, the siege began with a summons to surrender, which the authorities refused. Parts of the suburbs were then burned, and next morning a bombardment began, red-hot balls and heavy stones being plentifully thrown into the place, knocking the houses into sad havoc, but in no wise damping the sturdy courage of the defenders. They replied bravely with their cannon and made repeated sorties, which inflicted serious damage upon the besiegers. After over three weeks of this sport, the Royalists shot an arrow into the town, September 3, with a message in these words: "These are to let you understand your god Waller hath forsaken you and hath retired himself to the Tower of London; Essex is beaten like a dog: yield to the king's mercy in time; otherwise, if we enter perforce, no quarter for such obstinate traitorly rogues.--From a Well-wisher." This conciliatory message was defiantly answered in a prompt reply signed "Nicholas Cudgelyouwell;" and two days later, Prince Rupert having suffered a defeat elsewhere, the Cavaliers abandoned the siege. Charles II., upon his restoration, took care to have himself proclaimed with great pomp at Gloucester, and also took the precaution to destroy its fortifications. The castle, which had stood since the days of the Norman Conquest, then disappeared. The west gate, the last remains of the walls, was removed, with the old bridge across the Severn, in 1809, to make room for a fine new bridge. This structure is chiefly known through a humorous connection that Thackeray has given it with King George III. That monarch made a royal visit to Gloucester, and in his lectures on the "Four Georges" Thackeray says: "One morning, before anybody else was up, the king walked about Gloucester town, pushed over Molly the housemaid with her pail, who was scrubbing the doorsteps, ran up stairs and woke all the equerries in their bedrooms, and then trotted down to the bridge, where by this time a dozen of louts were assembled. 'What! is this Gloucester new bridge?' asked our gracious monarch; and the people answered him, 'Yes, Your Majesty.'--'Why, then, my boys, let's have a hurray!' After giving them which intellectual gratification he went home to breakfast."

The town is quaint and picturesque, but the buildings generally are modern, most of them dating from the days of good Queen Anne, but they exhibit great variety in design. The most noted of the older Gloucester houses is the "New Inn," on Northgate Street. After the murder of Edward II. at Berkeley Castle, not far from Gloucester, where he had been imprisoned in a dungeon in the keep, in 1327, his remains were brought to the abbey church at Gloucester for interment, a shrine being raised over them by the monks. The king was murdered with fiendish cruelty. Lord Berkeley at the castle would willingly have protected him, but he fell sick; and one dark September night Edward was given over to two villains named Gurney and Ogle. The ancient chronicler says that the "screams and shrieks of anguish were heard even so far as the town, so that many, being awakened therewith from their sleep, as they themselves confessed, prayed heartily to God to receive his soul, for they understood by those cries what the matter meant." The king's shrine in Gloucester naturally attracted many pilgrims, and the New Inn was built about 1450 for their accommodation. It is a brick-and-timber house, with corridors leading to the chambers running along the sides of the inner court and reached by outside stairways, as was the common construction of houses of public entertainment three or four centuries ago. The inn remains almost as it was then, having been but slightly modernized. Most of the pilgrims to the shrine brought offerings with them, and hence the pains taken for their accommodation. The usual tale is told about a subterranean passage connecting this inn with the cathedral. New Inn is enormously strong and massive, and covers a broad surface, being constructed around two courtyards.

Gloucester has many churches in proportion to its size--in fact, so many that "as sure as God is in Gloucester" used to be a proverb. Oliver Cromwell, though the city had stood sturdily by him, differed with this, however, for a saying of his is still quoted, that "there be more churches than godliness in Gloucester." In later days the first Sunday-school in England was opened here, and just outside the city are the fragmentary remains of the branch of Llanthony Priory to which the monks migrated from the Welsh Border. The chief attraction of Gloucester, however, is the cathedral, and the ruins of the Benedictine monastery to which it was formerly attached. The cathedral is of considerable size, being four hundred and twenty feet long, and is surmounted by a much-admired central tower. The light and graceful tracery of its parapets and pinnacles gives especial character to the exterior of Gloucester Cathedral, and when the open-work tracery is projected against the red glow of sunset an unrivalled effect is produced. This tower is two hundred and twenty-five feet high, and forms an admirable centre to the masses of buildings clustered around it. The monastery, founded by Osric in the seventh century, stood on this site, but after the Danes burned it a convent was built, which passed into the hands of the Benedictines in 1022. One of these monks was the "Robert of Gloucester" who in 1272 wrote in rhyme a chronicle of English history from the siege of Troy to the death of Henry II. Their church was repeatedly burned and rebuilt, but it was not until the shrine of Edward II. was placed in it that the religious establishment throve. The rich harvest brought by the pilgrims to this shrine led to the reconstruction of the older church, by encasing the shell with Perpendicular work in the lower part and completely rebuilding the upper portion. This was in the fourteenth century, and by the close of the next century the cathedral appeared as it is now seen. Entering the fine southern porch, we are ushered into the splendid Norman nave bordered by exceptionally high piers, rising thirty feet, and surmounted by a low triforium and clerestory. The design is rather dwarfed by thus impoverishing the upper stories. The choir has an enormous east window, made wider than the choir itself by an ingenious arrangement of the walls; and this retains most of the old stained glass. The choir has recently been restored, and in the old woodwork the seat of the mayor is retained opposite the throne of the bishop. On the floor an oblong setting of tiles marks the grave of William the Conqueror's son Robert, who died at Cardiff, and whose monument stands in an adjoining chapel. The Lady Chapel is east of the choir, and has a "whispering gallery" over its entrance. Beneath the choir is the crypt, antedating the Norman Conquest, and one of the remains of the original church of the Benedictines. On the south side of the choir is the monument to Edward II., standing in an archway. The effigy is of alabaster, and is surmounted by a beautiful sculptured canopy. The cloisters north of the nave are most attractive, the roof being vaulted in fan-patterns of great richness. There can still be seen along the north walk of these cloisters the lavatories for the monks, with the troughs into which the water flowed and the recesses in the wall above to contain the towels. Beyond the cloisters are the other remains of the monastery, now generally incorporated into houses. Gloucester has been a bishop's see since the reign of Henry VIII., and one of its bishops was the zealous Reformer who was martyred in sight of his own cathedral--John Hooper: his statue stands in St. Mary's Square, where Queen Mary had him burned as a heretic. Gloucester also has its Spa, a chalybeate spring recently discovered in the south-eastern suburbs, but the town is chiefly known to fame abroad by its salmon and lampreys. The lamprey is caught in the Severn and potted for export, having been considered a dainty by the epicures of remote as well as modern times. It was in great request in the time of King John, when we are told "the men of Gloucester gave forty marks to that king to have his good will, because they regarded him not as they ought in the matter of their lampreys." This was the favorite dish of Henry I. (Beauclerc), and over-indulgence in lampreys finally killed him. It was the custom until 1836 for the corporation of Gloucester to send every Christmas to the sovereign "a lamprey pie with a raised crust."

TEWKESBURY.

Let us ascend the valley of the Severn, and in the centre of its broad plain, at the confluence of the Avon, find another great religious house in the smaller but equally noted town of Tewkesbury. All around are rich meadows, and here, away from the hills, was the ideal site for a monastery according to the ancient notion, where the languor of the gentle air prevented the blood flowing with too quick pulse. The Avon, spanned by an old arched bridge, washes one side of the town; the massive abbey-tower rises above a fringe of foliage and orchards, while on the one hand the horizon is bounded by the steep Cotswolds, and on the other by the broken masses of the Malverns. Close to the town, on its western verge, flows the Severn, crossed by a fine modern iron bridge. Tewkesbury is known to fame by its mustard, its abbey, and its battle. The renown of the Tewkesbury mustard goes back for at least three centuries: as "thick as Tewkesbury mustard" was a proverb of Falstaff's. That old-time historian Fuller says of it, "The best in England (to take no larger compass) is made at Tewkesbury. It is very wholesome for the clearing of the head, moderately taken." But, unfortunately, the reputation of Tewkesbury for this commodity has declined in modern times.