Part 9

“The chirk of St. Oswalde (says Leland) is a very faire leddid chirch with a great tourrid steple, but it standith without the New Gate; so that no chirch is there within the towne. This chirch was some time a monasterie, caullid the _White Minster_. After turnid to a paroche chirch, and the personage impropriate to the abbey of Shreusbyri. The cloister stoode in hominum memoria ubi monumenta monachorum. The place and streate wer the chirch standithe is caullid Stretllan.”

From this place to

LLANYMYNACH,

a continuation of the rich enclosed country, shewing to advantage the agriculture of these parts, attended us, till we reached the foot of the hill of Llanymynach. From the summit of this we enjoyed a most beautiful and boundless prospect, commanding the whole dome of the sky: all individual dignity was overpowered by the immensity of the whole view, which consisted more particularly of the rivers Virnwy and Tannad, joining their waters with the Severn; the lofty water-fall of Pistyll Rhaiadr—the Breddin hills—and the Ferwyn mountains. The geological observations on Llanymynach hill, by Mr. Aikin, are so accurate, that to attempt any further description would be deemed highly presumptuous in me; I shall therefore avail myself of an account, so ably delineated:

“The hill of Llanymynach, is not only remarkable for the fine prospect from its top, it is still more worthy notice, as containing by far the most extensive _lime-works_ of any in this part of the country. The lime of Llanymynach rock is in high request as a manure, and is sent by land carriage as far as Montgomery, New-town, and even Llanidloes: it sells at the kilns for seven-pence a bushel, and from thirty to thirty-six bushels, are reckoned a waggon-load; the coal with which it is burnt, is brought partly from the neighbourhood of Oswestry, and partly from Sir Watkin Williams Wynne’s pits, near Ruaben. The lime lies in strata, parallel to the horizon, varying in thickness from three inches to five feet; it is of an extraordinary hardness, with but little calcarious spar, and few shells, or other marine exuvial; its colour reddish brown, burning to almost white. Between the strata of lime, we found a very tenacious smooth clay, orange coloured ochre, and green plumose carbonate of copper, or malachite. It was in search of this copper, that the Romans carried on here such extensive works, of which the remains are still very visible: they consist of a range of from twenty to thirty shallow pits, the heaps of rubbish from the mouths of which, abound with small pieces of copper ore, and a cave of considerable dimensions, terminating in an irregular winding passage, of unknown length, connected with which, are two air shafts still remaining open, and the appearances of several others, now filled up: in some of these caverns are found, large and beautiful specimens of stalactite. One of the levels was explored some years ago, and in it was discovered a skeleton, with mining tools, and some Roman copper coins. The whole mass of the hill, seems more or less impregnated with copper: whenever the surface is uncovered, there are evident marks of the presence of this metal, and the stones composing the rampart of Offa’s Dyke, which encompasses two sides of the hill, are in many parts quite covered with _cupreous efflorenscences_. Between the village and the rock, passes a branch of the Ellesmere canal, which, when navigable, will add much to the value of these works, by rendering them more accessible to the surrounding country, and may induce some spirited adventurer, to recommence a search after copper, which, it is evident, was formerly prosecuted with considerable success.”

This description of Llanymynach hill, we pronounce from our own observation, to be so very accurate, that the length of the quotation will be readily excused. Leaving the pretty village of Llanymynach, situated on the banks of the Virnwy, we resumed our journey to Welch Pool; the face of the country was pleasing, and we soon reached the Breddin hills, on whose summit a column is erected to commemorate the victory of Admiral Lord Rodney over the French, in the year 1782. Not far from hence, we passed a handsome aqueduct, admirably constructed over the river Virnwy, of great strength and stability. The vale of the Severn affords much picturesque scenery, and we at length arrived at

WELCH POOL

Quay, about three miles from that place; several vessels were lying here, which carry on a constant traffic with Worcester, and the towns situated on the banks of this noble river. Before our entrè into Pool, Powis Castle appeared on an eminence, immediately rising behind the town, and beautifully backed with a large plantation of trees.

Welch Pool derives its name from a black pool in its neighbourhood; its Welch appellation signifying, a quagmire or pool, and is one of the five boroughs in Montgomeryshire, which jointly send a member to parliament. The town is by no means neat; it stands on a low hill, and consists of one principal street; in which are situated the new county hall, and market-places. The Severn is navigable within three quarters of a mile of this town, and computed not less than two hundred miles from its juncture with the Bristol Channel. It is the great market for the Welch flannel, called _gwart_, or webb, prepared in many parts of Merionethshire, and generally used for soldiers’ clothes. This trade, however, has of late been very inconsiderable.

Powis Castle lies to the right, about one mile from Pool, on the ridge of a rock, retaining a mixture of castle and mansion: it is built of red stone, and originally contained within its walls two castles: the entrance is between two round towers. There are several family portraits in a long gallery, measuring one hundred and seventeen feet by twenty: {161a} it was formerly one hundred and sixty-seven feet long, but an apartment has been taken out of one end. {161b} The gardens still retain that stiff formality, so much in vogue many years ago; but the curious water-works, in imitation of the wretched taste of St. Germain’s en Laye, are now destroyed. The prospect from the castle is very extensive, comprehending a view of Welch Pool, Vale, and Freiddin Hills.

From hence to

MONTGOMERY,

the Ellesmere Canal accompanied us part of the way; and at length, after a fatiguing walk, we reached the Green Dragon, a small and comfortable inn. The scite of Montgomery is very pleasing, on a gentle ascent, and backed by a steep hill, beautifully clothed with the rich plantations belonging to Lord Powis. The town itself is a straggling place, and little to recommend it. The remains of the castle are now too trifling, to interest the passing traveller.

In the year 1094, this castle was gallantly defended by the Normans; but the Welch, at last, finding meant to undermine the walls, took it by storm; and, after putting the garrison to the sword, levelled that fortress to the ground. It was afterwards rebuilt by Henry III. in the year 1221, as a check to the incursions of the Welch; but a second time razed to the ground by Llewellyn the Great, Prince of Wales; it afterwards became the seat of the Lords Herbert of Cherbury, and their ancestors, till reduced to its present ruinous condition by the civil wars.

The road to

BISHOPS CASTLE,

brought us through a very rich country; and on ascending a hill, about five miles from Montgomery, a retrospect of the far distant mountainous country of Wales, to which we were now bidding a last adieu, irresistibly brought on a train of serious reflections. In a retrospect like this, where the subject and the scene must inspire serious thoughts, such traces are not unpleasing; they tend to promote one general effect—the love of contemplation. We enumerated the little incidents which had taken place, indulging reflections on scenes for ever past:—we erected, on the spot which we esteemed most adapted to retirement, the visionary cottage: our schemes were instantly arranged,—fancy fashioned its ornaments, adapted its appendages;—and fancy will ever exceed realities. But all our air-built plans of future happiness soon vanished:—and alas! when

—“fancy scatters roses all around, What blissful visions rise! In prospect bright Awhile they charm the foul: but scarce attain’d, The gay delusion fades. Another comes, The soft enchantment is again renew’d, And youth again enjoys the airy dreams Of fancied good.”—

Bishops Castle is situated in a bottom: we found it a more extensive place than we had any idea of expecting; but being shortly convinced, that there was nothing particular to require a long stay, and having recruited ourselves at the Castle Inn, we hastened to leave the town. The road, for the first seven miles, continually dipped into shallow vallies, well wooded, affording cursory views, with many a substantial farmer’s habitation lurking amongst the trees. At length, a rich and noble vale, with extensive woods, on our right, animated with several gentlemen’s seats, and watered by an overflowing stream, running immediately close to the road, accompanied us to

LUDLOW;

situated on an eminence, in the midst of this most luxuriant country. After the many indifferent Welch towns which we had passed through, since the commencement of our pedestrian excursion, we felt ourselves not a little chagrined at our uncouth appearance, in entering so gay a place. The streets are commodious, and the houses and public buildings extremely neat. The gravel walks round the castle are extensive, and command, at occasional points, distinct prospects of the gentlemen’s seats, in the neighbourhood, with their grounds, and noble plantations. The river Teme gives additional beauty to this fascinating spot; the new bridge, recently erected a little below the castle, forms likewise, from this spot, by no means an uninteresting object; add to this, at suitable distances, the river, by means of dams, is formed into small artificial cascades. At the extremity of the town, is another bridge, separating the counties of Shropshire and Hereford. These walks were laid out in the year 1772, by the Countess of Powis, at a great expence. The overshadowing trees not only afford refreshing shelter from a summer’s sun, but are likewise a protection from the piercing winter’s wind: indeed,

—“I cou’d rove At morn, at noon, at eve, by lunar ray, In each returning season, through your shade, Ye reverend woods; cou’d visit ev’ry dell, Each hill, each breezy lawn, each wand’ring brook, And bid the world admire; each magic spot again Cou’d seek, and tell again of all its charms.”

Towards the North, the mazy course of the Teme.—Oakley Park, the elegant seat of the Dowager Lady Clive.—The Clee Hills.—The celebrated Caer Caradoc, with the other eminences, near Stretton, terminating the view, present a most fascinating landscape. Towards the West, a combination of rock, wood, and water, gratifies the warmest wish of fancy.

The Whitecliffe, opposite to the castle, and Hackluyt’s Close, near the Leominster road, are the two other most favourite walks; but that round the castle is resorted to, as the most fashionable promenade.

The town of Ludlow has been calculated to contain seven hundred and two houses, and nearly three thousand five hundred and sixty-five persons. {166} The public buildings are, the Market-house, the Guildhall, the Prison, called Goalford’s Tower, and the Cross: the rooms over the latter, are dedicated for the instruction of thirty poor boys, and fifteen poor girls; and the former, at a proper age, are apprenticed out. The town enjoys no particular manufactory, but its chief trade consists in the article of gloves.

The castle, the palace of the Prince of Wales, in right of his principality, is now entirely in ruins, except Mortimer’s tower, which was repaired by Sir Henry Sidney, during his presidency: it is now inhabited by an old servant of Lord Powis’s, a very civil and intelligent man, who related, with the utmost concern, the sad vicissitudes this castle had experienced; he insisted on our entering the tower of his habitation, and ascending the crumbling stairs, for a full display of the various beauties in the vicinity of Ludlow, he expatiated much on a valuable diamond ring, which he had discovered _himself_, when attempting to drain a cellar; the inscription of Hebrew characters, round the gold, within the ring, was interpreted by the _larned_, “A good heart;” this, and several coins of silver and gold, which were found at the same time, are now in the possession of Lord Powis: near the same spot, a number of skeletons were likewise dug up. He next conducted us to a small room in this tower, to observe an old stone placed over the fire-place, with a cross; the letters W. S. and the date 1575, engraven on it.

Over the South-east gateway, leading into the interior of the castle, are the arms of Elizabeth, Queen of England, and beneath, those of the Sydney family, with the following inscription:

HOMINIBUS INGRATIS LOQUIMINI LAPIDES—ANN, REGNI REGINÆ ELIZABETHAE 23.—THE 28 YEAR COPLET OF THE RESIDENCE OF SYR HENRY SYDNEY KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, 1581.

This castle, founded by Roger de Montgomery, on a rock, in the North-east angle of the town, supposed to be in the year 1112, was considerably enlarged by Sir Henry Sydney. Its ancient British name, _Dinan Llys Tywysog_, signifies the _Prince’s Palace_. The vicissitudes of war have frequently been exemplified in this castle; it has had its Lords and its Princes; it has been plundered, captured, dismantled, and repaired, in those periods of civil warfare, which this unfortunate country, in former times, continually experienced. Philips, in “ The History and Antiquities of Shrewsbury,” during those melancholy troubles, gives some account of this castle. Some historians affirm, that Edward V. and his brother, were born in Ludlow Castle; but others, not crediting this assertion, attribute their birth to Wigmore: certain, however, it is, that during their minority, they here held their court, under the tuition of Lord Anthony Woodville, and Lord Scales, till they were removed to London, and soon after smothered in the Tower, by the command of their cruel and ambitious uncle, the Duke of Gloucester. Here, likewise, Prince Arthur, the eldest son of Henry VII. celebrated his marriage with the virtuous Catharine of Arragon; and in 1502, he here paid the debt of nature, and was buried in the cathedral church of Worcester.

The account of the representation, at Ludlow, of Milton’s celebrated Mask of Comus, is thus mentioned in the Life of that poet, prefixed to Newton’s edition: “It was in the year 1634, that his Mask was presented at Ludlow Castle. There was formerly a president of Wales, and a sort of a court kept at Ludlow, which has since been abolished; and the president, at that time, was the Earl of Bridgwater, before whom Milton’s Mask was presented, on Michaelmas night; and the principal parts, those of the Two Brothers, were performed by his Lordship’s sons, the Lord Brackly, and Mr. Thomas Egerton; and that of the Lady, by his Lordship’s daughter, the Lady Alice Egerton.”

In the first year of William and Mary, the presidency was dissolved by act of parliament, “being a great grievance to the subject, and a means to introduce an arbitrary power, especially in the late reign, when a new convert family were at the head of it.”

The church next demanded our attention, the only one belonging to this town. The time of the foundation of this ancient and elegant structure cannot now be strictly ascertained: it is situated on an eminence, in the centre of the town. The square tower is lofty, and of very light architecture, but the upper part suffered much, by the all-destroying hand of Oliver Cromwell. The highly-finished statues round the battlements, are much mutilated, and many entirely destroyed. On entering the church, six light Gothic fluted arches on each side, with four similar ones of larger dimensions, supporting the tower, are strikingly grand. Under the organ-loft, we passed into the chancel, now only made use of, for the administration of the sacrament. This is a most elegant building, with thirteen stalls on each side, similar, in stile, to the generality of cathedrals; the seats of the stalls, all of which turn back, exhibit specimens of curious workmanship, with strange devices, and ridiculous conceits. Some of the glass painted windows are still in good preservation; the large one, over the altar-piece, represents the History of St. Lawrence, to whom this church is dedicated, in fifty-four compartments. The other windows of the chancel are much mutilated, collected from different parts of the church, and several panes broken, by the unmeaning idleness of boys;—regardless of these valuable relicks of antiquity.—In the side of the wall, near the altar, are two stone stalls, with a piscina opposite.

In this chancel is a handsome monument, erected to the memory of Robert Townsend, and his wife, with several figures of their sons and daughters carved round the bottom: over them are the arms of their family and connexions: it bears the date of 1581.

A modern monument to Theophilus Solway, Esq.

An ancient one to Ambrosia Sydney, who died at Ludlow Castle. This lady was daughter to Sir Henry Sidney, who attained the important situation of the Presidency of Wales, in the year 1564. He died at Bewdley, 1584, and left this singular injunction to his executors: “that his heart should be buried at Shrewsbury, his bowels at Bewdley, and his body at Ludlow, in the tomb of his favourite daughter Ambrosia:” this order was punctually executed; and the leaden urn, containing his heart, was six inches deep, and five inches in diameter at the top, with this inscription carved three times round it:

HER LITH THE HARTE OF SYR HENRYE SYDNEY L. P. _Anno Domini_, 1586.

For an engraving of this urn, taken from a drawing of Mr. S. Nicholas, see the Gentleman’s Magazine for September, 1794.

Another monument {172a} to Edward Wetson, and his wife, kneeling opposite to each other.

In a small chapel, to the left of the chancel, are three very handsome painted glass-windows, containing the history of the Apostles, in eighteen compartments; there is also a rosary.

In this chapel is an elegant marble tomb, to Sir Thomas Bridgeman, serjeant at law. In this church is likewise buried Sir John Bridgeman, the last president but one of Ludlow Castle. He was extremely rigid in his office: and one Ralph Gittins, who had probably experienced his severity, composed the following epitaph on him:

“Here lies Sir John Bridgeman, clad in his clay; God said to the Devil, sirrah, take him away.” {172b}

A chapel corresponding on the opposite side, contains the royal arms of Charles, and several old iron armoury.

Should the tourist find time to make any stay at Ludlow, several excursions in the neighbourhood, will prove highly gratifying. Oakley Park, the elegant seat of the Dowager Lady Clive, claims the greatest attention; it is situated about two miles from Ludlow, on the banks of the Teme river; just beyond this, is a seat of — Walpole, Esq. About five miles is Downton Castle; the noble mansion, and fine walks of Richard Payne Knight, Esq. one of the representatives in Parliament for the borough of Ludlow. Being necessitated to leave this charming country by a particular day, we had no opportunity of visiting these celebrated, and much admired seats.

With regret we left the fascinating situation of Ludlow, and crossing Lawford’s Bridge, we ascended an eminence, along a fine beautiful terrace, commanding a most charming, and pleasant country to our left, with the fertile county of Hereford, abundant with orchards, which were all bending with the produce of the year. About two miles from Ludlow on the right, we paused to admire the delightful seat of Theophilus Richard Solway, Esq. situated on an eminence, and skirted by a rich plantation of wood, towards the West: it is called the Lodge. Descending into a bottom, a rich country, studded with farm-houses, soon brought us to the town of

LEOMINSTER,

or Lemister, consisting of one long street; the Market-place in the centre, bearing a very old date, and likewise the church, are both deserving of the traveller’s notice. It is situated in a flat, and the country round it not particularly interesting.

From hence, a turnpike-road, shewing to advantage, the rich culture of the country, soon brought us within sight of the venerable cathedral of

HEREFORD,

backed by a sloping eminence just rising behind, and beautifully clothed with wood. Being under a particular engagement to meet a party at Ross, to accompany us down the Wye the following day, time would not allow us to investigate this respectable city, so minutely, as it deserves. Our observations therefore, were so cursory, that “The Hereford Guide,” must supply the deficiences in this part of our journal; this neglect, the tourist must attribute to our delay at the engaging town of Ludlow.

At Hereford, we for some time hesitated respecting the hire of a boat to convey us to Ross; but the exorbitant demand of the boatmen soon determined us to pursue the turnpike-road, and follow, as near as possible, the course of the Wye. The orchards were overcharged with “bending fruit,” and seemed to prognosticate a more favourable cyder season, than has of late been experienced. The retrospect of the city, with its ancient cathedral, formed a most attracting view; and about three miles, a most lovely vale, bounded by the hills of South Wales, arrested our attention. A continuation of the same scenery of orchards, in which Herefordshire so peculiarly abounds, with the road continually dipping into shallow vallies, attended us within five miles of Ross, when, ascending a steep hill, a view of that town, or, rather, of its far conspicuous spire, broke in upon the reposing character of the scene. This presently conducted us to Wilton Bridge, thrown over the Wye, about half a mile from the town; and, leaving the castle of Wilton to the left, ascended the town of

ROSS,

to the inn, so celebrated as the original habitation of Mr. Kyrle; but more generally known by the name of “The Man of Ross.” The landlord seems rather to depend upon the custom of strangers, from this circumstance, than the accommodations the inn offers. On the bridge we paused a short time, to take a view of the meandering Vaga, which here considerably widens; several pleasure-boats, of various construction, were riding at anchor, and united to enliven the watry scene, whilst its smooth tranquil surface, reflected and reverted every object situated on the bank.

The life and character of Mr. Kyrle has too often been insisted on, and too frequently celebrated in verse, to be again repeated, unless to “point its moral to the heart;” teaching us, that self-approbation can confer an inward happiness, superior to all worldly applause; for,

“What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy; The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy, Is virtue’s prize.”—