Part 20
The prospect is very pleasing. Chirk Castle, Wynnstay Park, {286} and many other seats of respectability, more particularly conspicuous. Great part of the vale, and the meandering course of the Dee, may here be traced; whilst the opposite hills are shelved off in an extraordinary and unusual manner, resembling so many walls or fortifications.
The author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, thus describes his ascent up this mountain. “The sun was shooting its evening rays along the vale, embellishing every thing they touched. It having rained all the morning, the freshness with which spring had clad every object, gave additional impulse to all our feelings. Arrived at the summit, the scene became truly captivating: for nature appeared to have drawn the veil from her bosom, and to glory in her charms. The season of early spring, which, in other countries, serves only to exhibit their poverty, displayed new beauties in this. Nature had thrown off her mantle of snow, and appeared to invite the beholder to take a last look of her beauties, ere she shaded the cottage with woodbine, or screened with leaves the fantastic arms of the oak. The clouds soon began to form over their heads, and a waving column lightly touched their hats. Around was one continued range of mountains, with DINAS rising above the river. Immediately below, lay a beautifully-diversified vale, with the Dee,—Milton’s ‘Wizard Stream,’—combining all the charms of the Arno and the Loire, winding through the middle of it: while on the east side of the mountain several villages seemed to rest in calm repose. This beautiful scene was soon converted into a sublime one. For the clouds assuming a more gloomy character, the tops of all the mountains around became totally enveloped; and our heads were now and then encircled with a heavy vapour. A more perfect union of the beautiful and magnificent it were difficult to conceive. No object was discernible above; but below, how captivating! Their feet were illumined by the sun, their heads, as it were, touching the clouds. Above, all was gloomy and dark; below, the sun, from the west, still illumined the villages and spires, the cottages and woods, the pastures and fields, which lay scattered in every direction; while the Dee, at intervals, swept, in many a graceful curve, along the bottom of the vale. These objects, so variously blended, and so admirably contrasted with the sombre scene above them, called to the imagination the golden thoughts of Ariosto; and inspired such a combination of feelings, that, for a time, they were absorbed in silent meditation. While they were indulging in this repose, the sounds of village bells, in honour of a recent marriage, came floating on the breeze from below. The sounds, softened by the distance, and coming from a region so far beneath, lulled them with a choral symphony, that excited the most delightful sensations. And such must ever be the effect on those whose happiness has not been smothered beneath a load of splendid vacuities; in whom society has not engendered an infinity of wants; in whom ignorance has not awakened pride, arrogance, and vanity; and in whom content has the power of lulling every fever of illegitimate desire.”
Having descended this steep eminence, we continued our route to Valle Crucis Abbey, about two miles distant from Llangollen. It would be advisable for strangers first to visit Valle Crucis, and take Dinas Brân Castle in their way back to their inn. The transmutations of time are frequently ridiculous: the long aisles of this monastery, which were once only responsive to the slow-breathed chant, now repeat the rude dissonance of cows, ducks, and all manner of poultry. Instead of these emblems of rusticity, the mind’s eye is more accustomed to appropriate these antique edifices to the midnight procession of monks issuing from their cells to perform the solemn service. These neglected walls are too deeply shrouded by the melancholy grove of towering ash, contiguously formed, to be seen to advantage. An axe, judiciously used, would be of service to the ruin, as the elegant window of the chapel is completely concealed by the luxuriant vegetation around; still, however, a pleasing melancholy pervades the whole scene. The abbey is beautifully screened on all sides by woody hills, which entirely protect it from the inclemency of the winter.
This ancient Cistertian monastery was founded by Madoc ap Griffith Maelor, in the year 1200, and is sometimes called Llan-Egwiste, or Llanegwast. In this vale was the pillar of Eglwyseg: but the country people appeared quite ignorant of its situation. Returning to Llangollen, we pursued the turnpike road to the neat village of
CHIRK.
For some way we followed the straight and formal course of a canal, near this, communicating with the Pont-y-Cyssyllte; we again paused to survey this wonderful design. The vale, on our left, was indescribably beautiful; and over the whole was diffused the purple glow of the evening. The prospect was composed of the miniature parts of the immense landscape we had viewed from Dinas Brân Hill, each of which we now contemplated separately as a scene. The moon’s chequered gleam besilvered the walls of Chirk Castle, just as we entered the Hand Inn, where, after the fatigues of a long walk, we met with excellent accommodation, when considered as a village.
After breakfast the next morning we endeavoured to obtain admission to see the inside of Chirk Castle, but without success; though now only inhabited by servants, who were peremptorily commanded to admit no strangers. It is situated on an eminence, surrounded by a park and fine plantations, which are very judiciously laid out. This elegant mansion has been in the possession of the Middleton family ever since the year 1614. Having gratified ourselves with a survey of this noble park, we returned to the Oswestry road. Leaving the village of Chirk, we crossed a new bridge of one arch, elegantly constructed. Near it is another aqueduct, of considerable extent, now erecting over this river and valley, which though very inferior to the Pont-y-Cyssyllte, is still a great undertaking; it is several hundred yards in length, and the brick piers rise fifty or sixty feet above the level of the water. Near this is a rich coal mine, lately discovered.
From hence to Oswestry we traversed a rich enclosed country, and enjoyed a scene particularly pleasing: all the inhabitants were collected, to gather in the produce of the ripened field; and
“Through their cheerful band the rural talk, The rural scandal, and the rural jest, Fled harmless.”
To the traveller and the poet such scenes afford an ample field for amusement; but waving corn is ill adapted to the canvass of the painter. About two miles from Oswestry, we passed through the little town of
WHITTINGTON.
At this place was fought the battle between Oswald, the Christian king of the Northumbrians, and Penda, the Pagan king of the Mercians, in which the former lost his life. An easy walk soon brought us to
OSWESTRY.
Its only relics now remaining are the ruins of a chapel, built over a remarkably fine spring of water; to this was formerly attributed the cure of various diseases, incident both to man and beast; and though its miracles have long ceased, yet it still bears the name of the saint. The remains of the castle, supposed to have been built at the time of the Conquest, are now almost too trivial to be noticed. This town was garrisoned by the king, in the beginning of the civil wars, but captured in June, 1644, by the Earl of Denbigh and General Mytton.
In passing through the town of Oswestry we noticed the church, as being a very neat building; but, either from our own neglect, or imagining it not to be ancient, we did not inspect the interior. Oswestry suffered greatly by fire in the year 1542, and likewise in 1567.
“The chirch of St. Oswalde,” says Leland, “is a very faire leddid chirch, with a great tourrid steple, but it standeth without the new gate; so that no chirch is there withyn the towne. This chirch was sum 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 called Stretllan.” From this place to
LLANYMYNACH,
situate on the north bank of the Evyrnwy, a continuation of the rich enclosed country, showing 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 waterfall of Pystyll 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 sevenpence 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 Ruabon. 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 calcareous spar, and few shells, or rather marine exuvial; its colour reddish brown, burning to almost white. Between the strata of lime we found a very tenacious smooth clay, orange-colour 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: wherever 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 covered with cupreus efflorescences. 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 re-commence 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 very accurate, so 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 Welsh 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
WELSH 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 entrée into Pool, Powis Castle appeared on an eminence, immediately rising behind the town, and beautifully backed by a large plantation of trees.
Welsh Pool derives its name from a black pool in its neighbourhood, (its Welsh 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, which is computed at not less than two hundred miles from its junction with the British channel. It is the great market for the Welsh 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 (anciently called Poole Castle) the seat of Lord Clive, lies to the right, about one mile from Pool, on the ridge of a rock, retaining a mixture of castle and mansion. Here Lucien Buonaparte lived several years. 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. 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. Germains-en-Laye, are now destroyed. The prospect from the castle is very extensive, comprehending a view of Welsh Poole, 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 site 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 has 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 Welsh, at last, finding means to undermine the walls, took it by storm; and after putting the garrison to the sword, levelled it to the ground. It was rebuilt by King Henry III., in the year 1221, as a check to the incursions of the Welsh; but a second time razed to the ground by Llewelyn the Great, Prince of Wales. It afterwards became the seat of the ancestors of the Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who was born here, and continued in possession of his descendants, till reduced to its present ruinous condition by the civil wars.
The road to
BISHOP’S 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 soul; 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.”
Bishop’s Castle is situated in a bottom. We found it a more extensive place than we expected; 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 valleys, 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 Welsh towns which we had passed through since the commencement of our pedestrian excursion, we felt ourselves not a little chagrined at our uncouth appearance on 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 expense. 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 could rove At morn, at noon, at eve, by lunar ray, In each returning season, through your shade, Ye rev’rend woods; could visit every dell, Each hill, each breezy lawn, each wand’ring brook, And bid the world admire; each magic spot again Could 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 pleasing landscape. Towards the west, a combination of rock, wood, and water, gratifies the warmest wish of fancy.
The Whitecliff, 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. {299} The public buildings are the market-house, the guildhall, the prison (called Gaolford’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 learned, “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 ELIZABETHÆ 23.—THE 28 YEAR COPLET OF THE RESIDENCE OF SIR 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 King Edward V. and his brother were born in Ludlow Castle; but others, not crediting this assertion, attribute their birth-place 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 King Henry VII., celebrated his marriage with the virtuous Catherine of Arragon; and in the year 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 this 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 Bridgewater, 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.”