Part 14

The keep stands somewhat in the same manner as those of Porchester, Pevensey, and Castleton, close to the outward wall of the castle; and, like them, it has no window on the outside next the country. It had evidently three rooms or floors, one above the other; all of them, however, were very small, being only fourteen feet and a half square; and the room on the first floor had no sort of internal communication with the dungeon beneath--which had not even a single loophole for light and air, but was connected by a very narrow passage to a still smaller dungeon, strongly secured under the platform belonging to the steps of the entrance, and having a very small air-hole on the same side. “The original windows are Saxon; that in the middle of the upper story seems to have remained just as it was from the very first, without any alteration; and the manner in which the two large side columns stand, somewhat _within_ the arch, is consistent with the fashion adopted by the Saxons, and continued even to the time of Edward the Confessor. The large zigzag ornament on each side, between the columns, is in the rude form in which it was generally used by the early Saxons; and so also is that of the zigzag moulding, or band, that is carried by way of ornament quite across the tower, just under the window; and it is very remarkable, that the middle projecting buttress is carried no higher than this ornament.”[190]--See the preceding wood-cut.

The window in the apartment beneath is similar in its general construction; but the columns which support the arch are somewhat higher, and a semicircular moulding of zigzag is carried beneath the arch; the middle part of the window, however, has been altered--a stone frame for glass having been inserted, of the style and age of Henry the Sixth, and probably in the time of the celebrated Earl Talbot, whom tradition represents as having his own chamber in this tower. In the second apartment is a fire-hearth, and, in an angle of the wall, a circular staircase leads to the upper story. “To this staircase is a most remarkable doorway; it has one large transom stone, as if to aid the arch to support the wall above, and in this respect it resembles several other Saxon structures, in which this singular fashion seems to have been uniformly adopted, until it became gradually altered by the introduction of a flattish _under-arch_, substituted in the room of the transom stone.”[191]

The principal entrance was by a flight of steps on one side, distinct from the main building, and ascending to a platform before the doorway leading to the second chamber. The entrance to the dungeon, or lower apartment, was under “a very remarkable sort of pointed arch, formed of flat sides, which seems, from the appearance of the wall around it, and from its peculiar style, to have been inserted many ages after the tower was built, and in the time of Edward III.; a suspicion that appears to be most strongly confirmed, by the circumstance, that about the twenty-second year of Edward the Third, Richard Talbot, its then lord, obtained the royal license[192] for having in his castle a prison for male-factors, having also the cognizance of pleas of the crown, &c., within his lordship of Irchinfield. The bottom of the keep-tower would undoubtedly, as usual, be the place where such a prison would be established; and on that occasion it should seem that this new and strong door-frame was first constructed, whilst the very annexation of the lordship of Irchinfield, or Urchenfield, to the possession of this keep-tower, both of which his lordship appears to have been possessed of before this license was granted, shows the exceedingly high antiquity of this castle, since Urchenfield was, indeed, the very place where St. Dubricius founded his college of Religious, about A.D. 512, to live, like the original Eastern recluses, by the work of their own hands.”[193] The body of the keep is an exact square of twenty-nine feet.

In describing the additions made to this fortress in the Norman times, and during the successive reigns to the time of Henry the Sixth, we shall follow Mr. King, and begin with the strongly-fortified entrance , which, commencing between two semicircular towers of equal dimensions, near the east angle, was continued under a dark vaulted passage, to an extent of fifty feet. “Immediately before the entrance, and within the space enclosed by the fosse, was a very deep pit, hewn out of the solid rock, formerly crossed by a drawbridge, which is now gone, but which evidently appears to have exactly fitted, and to have closed, when drawn up, the whole front of the gateway between the towers. About eleven feet within the passage was a massive gate, the strong iron hinges of which still remain: this gate and the drawbridge were defended on each side by loopholes, and overhead by rows of machicolations in the vaulting. Six feet and a half beyond this was a portcullis, and about seven feet further a second portcullis; the space between these was again protected by loopholes and machicolations. About two feet more inward was another strong gate, and five feet and a half beyond this, on the right, a small door leading to a long narrow gallery, only three feet wide, formed in the thickness of the wall, and which was the means of access to the loopholes in the eastern tower, as well as to some others that commanded the brow of the steep precipice towards the north-east.” These works appear to have been thought sufficient for general defence; but a resource was ingeniously contrived for greater security, in case they had all been forced: “for a little further on are many stone projections in the wall on each side, like pilasters, manifestly designed for inserting great beams of timber within them, like bars, from one side of the passage, which was about nine feet ten inches wide, to the other, so as to form a strong barricade, with earth or stones between the rows of timber, which would in a short time, and with rapidity, form a strong massy wall.” Beyond these the passage opened into the great inner court of the Castle.

Chapel. --The ruins of the chapel run parallel with the entrance on the left; the style of the broken ornaments, and particularly of those about its great window, show this to have been repaired and adorned even so late as the reign of Henry the Seventh. In one part is a very remarkable niche, and near it a smaller one, for holy water. On the opposite side is also another niche for the same purpose. Beneath the chapel was a deep vault, and over it a chamber, with a fireplace, which still appears projecting from the wall. Adjoining the chapel, and near the entrance, is a small octagonal watch-tower, which rises above the other buildings, and commands a fine view over the surrounding country.

The buildings between the chapel and the south or garrison tower, to the upper part of which a passage, or covered-way, led along the top of the outer wall, are mostly in ruins. Here appear to have been the stables. The garrison tower adjoins the entrance to the keep; its foundation is a square of about thirty-six feet; but the three outward angles diminish as they ascend, and form triangular buttresses, so that the upper part of the tower is circular. The walls are at least eight feet in thickness. The entrances to this tower were so continued, that there was access to it from every part of the walls. It contained three floors, and in each of them a fire-hearth. The interior forms an irregular octagon, about twenty feet in diameter from the angles, and about seventeen from side to side.

Great Tower. --The wall that extended between the keep and the west tower is in ruins. This tower, which is also greatly dilapidated, appears of more modern construction than the former, and is probably of the time of the Edwards. Its outward form is circular; but the interior is somewhat of an octangular figure, but very irregular, its general dimensions being thirty-three feet long, and twenty-five feet broad. In this appears to have been the great kitchen ; the fireplace is still distinguishable, with a recess and loophole on each side. Here was a small doorway, or sally-port, communicating with a sort of outer _ballium_, which runs on the north-west side, and was enclosed by an outer wall. On this side also, and ranging between the west tower and the north or Ladies’ tower, were the state apartments.

The Hall was a magnificent room of the time of Edward the First, as clearly appears from the style and architecture of its remains, and particularly from its long, slender, and narrow windows. This apartment was sixty-five feet long, and twenty-eight feet broad. Some years ago it contained a single beam of oak, “without knot or knarle,” sixty-six feet long, and nearly two feet square throughout its whole length. On the north-west side is the great fireplace; and behind it, projecting into the outer ballium , a vast mass of solid stonework, or buttress, which, in its upper part, appears to have had some little apartment, or guard-chamber. The hall communicated towards the north with a kind of withdrawing or retiring room, about twenty-nine feet by seventeen and a half, in which appears to have been a window looking into the hall. From this second apartment, a passage led into what seems to have been the great

State-room , which was fifty-five feet and a half long by twenty broad. At the upper end, or towards the north, are two beautiful pointed arches, springing from a well-wrought octagon pillar in the middle of the apartment, and resting on corbels at the sides. Here seem to have been two large windows; but the walls are so much broken, or closely mantled with ivy, that this cannot with certainty be affirmed. The architecture of this part of the building is of the time of Henry the Fifth or Sixth. At the north angle of this room is an opening leading into the north or Ladies’ tower , which is so situated on the brow of a high and steep precipice, as to be the most defensible part of the castle. From the apartment within, which is a neat octagon, about fifteen feet in diameter, is a most beautiful view over the adjacent country. From the common appellation of this tower, there can be little doubt of its having been appropriated as a “Ladies’ bower.” Beyond the state-room, in the north-east wall, is a square recess and loophole, supposed to have been formed for the lodging and seat of the warden.

Such was the original construction of Goodrich Castle; but almost every part has yielded to the iron tooth of age, and to the more speedy demolition of war. The ruins, however, are extremely grand; the massive towers are finely mantled with ivy; and even the great moat is embellished with the luxuriant foliage of tall forest-trees. From the adjoining woods the crumbling turrets have a very striking and interesting effect; and seen from the water, the view has been truly characterized as “one of the grandest upon the Wye.”

Whoever was the original founder of this Castle, “whether Godricus Dux, who witnessed King Canute’s charters, or any chieftain prior to him,” it is certain that the earliest authenticated record yet discovered, is of A.D. 1204, when it was given by “King John to William Strigul, Earl Marshall , to hold by the service of two knights’ fees.” His son Walter, Earl of Pembroke--as noticed in a former page of this volume--died here in December, 1245. It was afterwards conveyed by a female to William de Valentia , Earl of Pembroke, whose third son, Aymer de Valence, became his heir, and was murdered in France in 1323. From him it passed to the Talbots, by the marriage of Elizabeth Comyn, daughter of Joan, his second sister, with Sir Richard, afterwards Lord Talbot, who procured the license from Edward the Third to have a prison here. This Richard was a renowned soldier and statesman; and is thought to have expended a considerable part of the ransoms, obtained from his prisoners taken in the French wars, on the reparation and improvement of Goodrich Castle. His descendant, John Talbot, the great Earl of Shrewsbury, who was killed at the battle of Castillon, in the year 1453, was first buried at Rouen; and in enumeration of his titles on the monument raised to his memory, he is styled “Lord of Goderich and Orchenfield.” His successors were equally distinguished for bravery, and were frequently employed in offices of great trust. George,[194] the sixth earl, had the custody of Mary, Queen of Scots, committed to his charge. That these places were really alienated is improbable, as Gilbert, seventh Earl of Shrewsbury, was in possession of this castle and manor at the period of his death in the 14th of James the First. Elizabeth, his second daughter and co-heiress, conveyed them in marriage to Henry de Grey, Earl of Kent, in whose family they continued till the year 1740, when, on the death of Henry, Duke of Kent, they were sold to Admiral Griffin.

In the civil wars between Charles I. and his Parliament, Goodrich Castle was alternately possessed by both parties. It was first seized by the Parliamentary army; but afterwards fell into the hands of the Royalists, who sustained a siege of nearly six weeks against Colonel Birch. The colonel began the siege on the 22nd of June, 1646. On the third of August, as appears from Whitelocke, “Colonel Birch entered some of the works of Gotherich Castle, whereupon the garrison hung out a white flag for parley, which Birch refused, and went on storming, until they all submitted to mercy. In the castle, besides the governor, were 50 gentlemen and 120 soldiers, with arms, ammunition, and provisions.” On the twenty-fifth the Parliament gave orders that the Countess of Kent should be informed that there was a _necessity_ for demolishing the castle; and that “on the demolishing thereof, satisfaction should be made to her. On the first of March following, they finally resolved that the castle should be totally disgarrisoned, and _slighted_. The breaches of the Ladies’ tower, which is the most effectually ruined, were said to have been chiefly occasioned by the battering of the cannon during the siege.”[195]

RAGLAN CASTLE,

Monmouthshire.

“ Stranger ! ponder here awhile; Pause in Raglan’s ruined pile; All that wealth and power, combined, With skill to plan, and taste refined, To rear a structure fit to be The home of England’s Chivalry , Was lavished here!--where, met in hall, Mailed Barons kept their festival; The night in lordly wassail spent-- The day in tilt and tournament: Yet still, when England’s woes began, Were first to arm and lead the van; To shield the Monarch in his need, In Freedom’s glorious cause to bleed; To Loyalty surrendering all-- Then, with their falling King to fall!”

The Castle of Raglan is one of the most picturesque ruins in the kingdom, and closely associated with a momentous period of our national annals. Though roofless, tenantless, and dismantled, it still presents a majestic and venerable aspect. No visitor of taste or sensibility will ever traverse its spacious but long-deserted halls, without feeling a deep interest in its eventful history.

It was on a bright autumnal evening that we quitted the comfortable little inn, the “Beaufort Arms,” at Raglan, to make our first survey of this baronial stronghold; and at that hour, and season of the year, it was seen through its embowering trees in all its glory. Ascending the gentle eminence on which it stands, we came to the outer gate, or barbican, portions of which still remain, and crossing the _ballium_, now covered with rich verdant pasture, we were received by the intelligent Warden, who conducted us to the majestic gateway, and pointed out to us, as we proceeded, the more imposing features of the Castle, as they alternately met and receded from the eye.

The vista through the Gateway, taking in the Great Court--once adorned with statues and fountains, but now, like everything around it, abandoned to the weather, is very striking; while the absolute silence which pervades the scene, contrasts forcibly with its ancient stir and splendour, and compels us, while fancy is peopling it with troops of chivalry and their retainers, to exclaim, “Where are they?” A long wooden table with benches, the last symbols of that hospitality for which its noble owners were once conspicuous, stood on the grassy floor. But these were no relics of the ancient banquet-hall, but of a modern festive meeting, when the tenants upon the estates had met to express their attachment to the noble Marquess and his family. The manner in which the kitchen had been refitted for their entertainment, showed that it must have been ‘got up’ in a style not unworthy of its feudal renown; and, “as for the venison,”--

“Finer or fatter Ne’er ranged in a forest, or smoked on a platter.”

We arrived, however, too late for the feast, though another, a much simpler, and palatable treat awaited us--that which Nature, luxuriating amidst the ruins of Art, had lavishly spread before us. Such piles of masonry, such masses of ivy, were never before brought together! Here and there, indeed, the sturdy ramparts looked through their leafy screen with a sort of ghastly whiteness, like Hobbes’ spectre from behind the yew-tree, or the bones of some enormous skeleton, upon which the kindly hand of Nature had suspended her own green mantle. Nothing could be more strikingly novel and picturesque. Along the vast framework of the castle, on which the wealth and taste of centuries had been employed, until its strength and beauty could receive no farther additions from the hand of man, a straggling forest of vegetation expanded its mingling branches. Under the same leafy covert, from the timid wren to the ill-omened raven, birds of every feather had found a congenial roost. From the sepulchral yew the moping owl looked out upon everything around her as her own domain and cherished inheritance. Over our heads bats performed their swift circles in the still twilight sky; while daws chattered from the ancient keep, as if they had never heard a musket-shot, nor felt the slightest apprehension of being disturbed in their possession. On a lofty spray that overtopped every other tree, a loving thrush serenaded his mate in the fragrant thicket below. Numerous smaller birds, that seemed puzzled from the very abundance of the accommodation where to fix their roost, kept up a constant fluttering amongst the branches; while here and there was heard a bickering of wings and twittering of bills, as if contending for possession of some favourite branch for the night. Surely, we thought, there is room enough here for all; and yet even there--among those spacious green arbours, place and position were as eagerly sought and coveted by the feathered tribes, as by the equally volatile and jealous retainers of a court.

At length all was seemingly adjusted; the stillness of night pervaded the scene; the last shadows of twilight had faded into one common pall; and night, attended by a host of sparkling satellites, took quiet possession of the long line of courts that once swarmed with life and enjoyment.

And now, between the western sky--that still retained some warm lingering traces of sunset--and the donjon tower, mousing owls were seen enjoying their solemn pastime, here swimming lazily through the arched court, then along the battlements, or the margin of the clear glassy moat; then soaring aloft, and settling for a minute or two among the dark ivy; but still returning to make another circle and finding no wings abroad but their own.

The contemplation of this Castle, at any period of the day, is calculated to make a lasting impression; but when the rising moon shot her mellow light through its old shattered casements, and the breeze seemed to waken at the same instant and set all the ivy in motion, the scene became still more impressive. Among the deep shadows that invested the spacious courts, every prominent object was now brought suddenly into view; and, with a little aid from fancy, the waving of plumes, and the flashing of steel armour, seemed distinctly visible on the battlements; while the fragments of crumbling masonry that lay scattered below, as if struck by an enchanter’s wand, presented the semblance of animated groups, that waited only the word of command to start into life and motion. The stillness, too, which but half an hour before had pervaded every court and tower, was succeeded by a soft rustling among the leaves, that now flickered like quicksilver as the moonlight fell upon them, and then lost itself in their massive branches; whilst the shrubs and flowers that grew wild and vigorous in every court, or clambered up the walls and archways, seemed to give forth their mingled odours to the night wind, as it passed wooingly through their leaves, and filled the air with incense.

“We seemed to tread on faëry land; For, in every thing around us, We felt the touch of a viewless hand, And we heard the notes of a seraph band, Whose magic spell had bound us; While bright yclad, as in days of yore, The Knight of Raglan strode before.”

The Pitched-court; the hall of state, with its magnificent bay-window; the chapel; the fountain-court, with the grand staircase on the south side opening upon it; then the elegant portal leading to the grand terrace that overlooks Raglan church , were all traversed in succession, with nothing to distract attention, or disturb the solitude, but the whistle of a night-hawk, or the sound of our own footsteps on the grassy carpet, that now forms the universal ‘pavement’ of these once sumptuous apartments. For over the once tesselated floor, and the tapestried walls, weeds have thrown an oblivious mantle, while--

“Ha, ha!” laughs the Ivy, “old Time to me Hath given the glory and mastery! So poets may sing, if it like them well, From early matins till vesper bell; And others may list to their minstrelsie-- I’ve a song of my own--so what care I? Your castles , though stately, and strong, and tall, _I_ conquer them all--_I conquer them all_!”

But as the faint outline here sketched will be filled up when we take the architectural features of the Castle in detail, we pass on to a few preliminary remarks.

Grose , in his ‘Antiquities,’ observes that this castle is of no great antiquity, having been founded, as he conjectures, about the close of the fifteenth century, although many important additions were subsequently added. In the time of Henry VIII., as Leland informs us, Raglan, “yn Middle Venceland [Wentland], was a fair and pleasant castel, with to goodlye parkes adjacent;” and “the laste Lord Herbertes,” as Morgan told him, “builded all the best coffes of the Castle of Raglan.” Camden, in his account of the Silures, or Monmouthshire, notices it very briefly, as “a fair house of the Earl of Worcester’s, built castel-like.”[197]