Part 17

“Not to be too tedious, the man--what with bounty, and what with that which was as free to every man, as was their purses unto him, which was good wine--the man was not himself when he should have gone to bed. Which being related to my lord, his lordship took occasion to tell the company the story of the beggar, who was made believe he did but dreame of the happiness which really happened; and, thereupon, the marquess was desirous to make experiment whether it could be related in the person of old Thomas. In order whereto, he gave command that my friend Thomas should be disrobed of his neat wedding garment, the rest of his fine clothes taken from him, and himself carried unto his old lodging in the porter’s lodge; and his wife to respite the solemnisation of the marriage, until his comportment should deserve so faire an admission--the which was done accordingly.

“The next morning made the experiment to answer the height of all their expectations; for news was brought unto the Marquess--all the rest of the lords and ladies standing by--that Tom took all yesterday’s work but for a dream; or, at least, seemed to do so to humour the fancy.... But I should be endlesse,” says Bayly, “if I should relate unto you the sport that this fellow made.

“To conclude: The Marquess called them both before him, and delivered unto them the money, with many good exhortations to them both, thus moralizing upon the premises”--in a strain very characteristic of that day:--

“‘That which was first in intention, is oftentimes, both with God and man, the last in execution. As, for example, God had, before all worlds, determined to show his love for mankind, by wedding his onely Sonne to his Church; so

that thus much we have gained already, viz., that the marriage that was made in paradise between Adam and Eve, though it was the first in time, yet it was but secondary to the first intention; and he that said, “Before Abraham was, I am,” was also before Adam was; and though the first marriage was but a type of the second, yet the second, according to the aforesaid intention, was an antecedent to the first. God, who having an intention to wed his Sonne to his beloved spouse, the Church, gave way to this type, or figure, or--to bring the similitude a little homer--mock-wedding, which was between Adam and Eve, whom to make appear more worthy and glorious in the eyes of his beloved, and all other creatures, he arrayed with full majesty, and the robe of righteousness. His mercy--the lady and empress of all the glorious attributes of God--arrais this type and figure of his Church with the robe of innocence, and gives them both a large proportion of his grace. These blessings, Adam, by tasting the forbidden fruit, lost with his paradise, and slept in death. Gentlemen,’ concluded the Marquess, ‘I will not make any application hereof, lest I may seeme to mistrust your wisdomes; but I have nothing to say to the woman.’”[231]

The preceding is certainly a very curious passage in the history of

A potent, grave, and reverend signior.

It reminds one of some parts of Don Quixote and of Rabelais--all but the sermon at the close--which may have been imitated from one of the old “Mysteries” then in vogue. But to these “Apophthegms” and Dr. Bayly, the “martial chaplain” of the household, we may return in a subsequent portion of the work. In the meantime, we shall take a survey of Raglan Castle, as it now appears, and then proceed to a narrative of the Royal Visits.

Architectural Details. --Of the strength, beauty, and attractions of this stronghold--which we are now to examine with some degree of minuteness--a quaint old poet[232] has thus recorded his admiration:--

A famous Castle fine That Raglan hight, stands moated almost round; Made of free-stone, upreight, as straight as line, Whose workmanship in beauty doth abound, With curious knots, wrought all with edged tool: The stately Tower that looks o’er pond and poole; The fountaine trim, that runs both day and night, Doth yeald in shew a rare and noble sight.

This description, of course, applies to times long before the guns of Fairfax had made a breach in the Yellow Tower; and while the Castle, with all its regal appendages, was the cherished abode of its illustrious owner--a repertorium of the fine arts, and the seat of unbounded hospitality. At no period of its history, however--not even while it was inhabited by worth and beauty, enriched with the precious works of art, and seemed to enclose within its walls an earthly paradise--at no period did it ever present so many features to fascinate the mind and eye of Taste as at this moment.

And “Why is it”--inquires one of the ablest writers of the day--“Why is it that we feel so poetical a sympathy with the great men of ages long past? Why do castles please most when they are dismantled, and palaces when they are in ruins? Why is an old battle-field rather improved than otherwise by a crop of standing corn? Because we can _imagine_ nobler things than we can _see_. Because the heroic deed, not vile flesh and blood, is the impersonation of the hero. We should be rather displeased at meeting the Iron Duke walking to a pedometer on the field of Waterloo. We would doubt whether on the plain of Marathon we could be reconciled even to the ghost of Miltiades. Greatness shines more brightly when it is abstracted from the man.”

We will now, as proposed, take the building in detail, beginning with the grand entrance, and proceeding onward, until we have completed the circuit of the walls, the inner apartments, battlements, terraces, and outworks. On these prominent features we shall dilate with more or less minuteness according to the interest of the subject--but always directing the reader’s attention more especially to those portions which have been chosen as subjects of illustration.

Grand Entrance. --Here a magnificent and imposing spectacle bursts upon the eye--three pentagonal towers, crowned with battlements, and bearing on their mutilated outline marks of the cannon-shot directed against it by the besiegers. These, however, are less defaced than any other portions of the ruin, and are now invested with a luxuriant mantle of ivy, lichen, and parasitical plants, as if Nature interposed to protect the venerable edifice from further outrage and decay. In the gateway are grooves for two portcullises. The two pentagonal towers on the right and left were appropriated to the inferior offices of the castle. Immediately behind these were rooms occupied by the garrison, or household troops. Adjoining these on the right, was the third pentagonal tower, called the Closet Tower; and on the left again were the officers’ apartments, which were demolished during the operations of the siege.

Gateway. --Between the two foremost of the pentagonal towers, above-named, the great portal--a work of imposing strength and fine gothic proportions--opens into the second court. Halting under the archway, the curious visitor will examine, with mingled pleasure and surprise, the fine architectural details; the groined ceiling; its lofty span; its fine proportions, in which grace, strength, and beauty are eminently combined: while the deep grooves, worn smooth by the working of the double portcullis, show how readily this hospitable gateway could be transformed, when occasion required, into an impenetrable barrier, and employed as a destructive engine of war. The old apartments in the gateway tower are correctly represented in the following woodcut--

In a vaulted room in the east tower there is a remarkable echo; and thither musical parties frequently resort during the fine season to spread their pic-nic, and exercise their vocal powers. This apartment is considered to have been the prison to which captives, or hostages of distinction, were formerly consigned;[233] and certainly no place in the Castle presents an air of more “hopeless security.” In the court below--as represented in a former woodcut--several pieces of ancient armour, and some heavy cannon shot, are shown to the visitor, as illustrative of the times to which they belong. The next compartment is

The Paved Court. --All the buildings on the right of this court, particularly the Closet Tower--the third pentagonal tower at the entrance--suffered greatly from the enemy’s cannon during the siege; and here, on the north-east side of the wall, the breach was effected that hastened the capitulation. The Pitched, or Paved Court, the area of which was once the parade ground, thronged with armed men, as they joined in some military fête, or entered on some warlike preparation for the siege, is now surrounded by only crumbling walls, and as verdant as a bowling-green. The towering battlements are all richly festooned with ivy. Every crevice sends forth its trees and shrubs, that seem to luxuriate in the old mortar; and under the same canopy of leaves, as already noticed, birds of song and birds of ill omen congregate together. At the extremity of the Paved Court, on the right, as we proceed westward, and from the point marked by a seat under a shady ash-tree, the visitor obtains an imposing view of the architecture on the south side, which, with all its dilapidations, is eminently picturesque. “Its boundary is there hung with the richest tapestry that Nature can weave--a mantling vestment of evergreen--through which appears, in grand proportions, the majestic window of the Hall of State.” This is a prominent feature in the steel engraving.

The Kitchen. --At the extremity of the court, and opposite to the portal, is an archway leading to the kitchen, which occupies the area of a pentagonal tower, projecting beyond the walls northward, and of narrow compass, but great solidity and strength. In an office adjoining is an extensive fireplace, the arch of which, thirteen feet in the span, is formed by two massive stones. The wide capacious chimney is worthy of notice. Beneath the kitchen is a room in perfect preservation, called the Wet Larder, which may be easily reached by a subterranean passage. From the kitchen a passage leads southward across the lower end of the Pitched Court to the Buttery, and this again to the common

Dining-Hall , or Parlour.--This apartment measures forty-nine feet in length by twenty-one in breadth, with an opening at the east end into a narrow cross passage, which also communicates, by three openings or doors, with the great Hall, which lies between the Pitched Court and the Chapel, and occupies nearly the whole space between this dining-hall and the Officers’ Tower, at the great entrance. Adjoining these is the

Baronial Hall. --This stately apartment, running parallel with the ancient chapel, occupies the interval between the two inner courts, and measures sixty-six feet in length by twenty-eight in breadth. The chief indications of its original grandeur consist in the majestic proportions--all of elegant design and masterly execution. The great bay-window is a feature that cannot fail to excite admiration; and were no other left entire, it would serve to convey a very distinct picture of that feudal magnificence which was in character with the splendour of its architecture. The fireplace, ten feet wide by eight feet high, is well adapted to the size of the apartment, and to those times when, instead of pit-coal, the branches or bole of a tree blazed on the winter hearth.

Arms. --The arms of the Marquisate of Worcester, cut in stone, but much obliterated, adorn the eastern wall; for the noble badge was an offensive object to the republicans; and, on their taking possession of the castle, it was probably

used as a target,[234] and thus wantonly defaced. Over the fire-place, as shown in the engraving, is the letter W. worked in brick.

Roof. --The geometrical roof, which once covered this noble hall, is allowed by all writers on the subject to have been of admirable construction. It was of Irish oak of the best quality, nicely adjusted, elaborately carved, and so ingeniously framed and fastened together, that the whole appeared as firm as if it had been chiselled out of a solid block; yet withal so lofty, so light and airy in appearance, that it seemed rather to be suspended from the sky above, than to rest upon the corbel heads and walls which it covered and adorned. In the centre was a gothic louvre adorned with painted glass, through which the descending light streamed upon the assembled guests--their arms, dresses, and accoutrements, in all the colours of the rainbow.

At the lower end of the hall is the Buttery, an apartment, thirty-two feet long by eighteen broad; and attached to this is another of equal dimensions, called the Pantry.

Officers’ Barracks. --Opposite the door of the great Hall, on the south, was a range of apartments, used as lodgings for the superior officers of the garrison. During the siege these were razed to the ground by the enemy’s artillery; so that the area on which they stood is now confounded with that of the Fountain Court. The latter apartments are distinct from those already described.

The Chapel. --The Baronial Chapel stands in the rear of the apartments named. It is a long narrow structure, running parallel with the great Hall, and forming the north side of the Fountain Court; but the vestiges that remain convey no distinct notion of its architectural style and decorations; which were, no doubt, in harmony with other sacred buildings of that age and its character of a baronial chapel. If, however, we may form any opinion from two rudely carved stone effigies[235] projecting from the wall on the north side, and nearly covered with ivy, we should form but a very unfavourable estimate of its ornamental sculpture: unless, indeed, the deformity they exhibit be the result of wilful violence; and as they are at a good height, and not approachable in the ordinary way, we had no means of ascertaining the fact by close inspection. But the corbel heads, from which the arches sprung, do not appear to justify a more favourable opinion; for the workmanship exhibits neither skill in the design, nor spirit in the execution. The Chapel, therefore, was of a date perhaps much anterior to the surrounding buildings, and coeval with that of the Keep, or “Tower of Gwent,” a work of the eleventh century.

The Fountain Court. --This court was formerly adorned with an equestrian statue, mounted on a lofty pedestal, and embellished with a fountain--the water for which was brought at great expense from the neighbouring hills--and, after being thrown up in jets-d’eau, was conveyed into the fish-ponds adjoining, so as to combine in its progress the useful with the ornamental. But the pedestal, the marble basin, and the statue, with every other fragment of the structure, have disappeared. The pipes that conveyed the water have been ploughed up in the fields adjoining the castle; but the classic beauty of the fountain lives in the history and traditions of the place: and from a laughable incident related in the “Apophthegms,” and which will be found in another portion of this work, we may infer that the Marquess of Worcester took great pleasure in this kind of embellishments.[236]

South-west Tower. --Ascending the flight of steps commencing at the grand entrance, on the south side of the court, we were conducted through the desolate apartments, known traditionally as those occupied by Charles the First, after his flight from Naseby. This tower, and the whole range of apartments connected with it, are in a state of complete dilapidation; and were it not for the wooden scaffolding that secures and facilitates the visitor’s progress, a tour of the ramparts would be impracticable. A lady, we were told, who happened to be near this spot during a rather high wind, was blown over the wall; but an umbrella, which she had fortunately open in her hand, acted like a parachute, and broke her fall; and thus she alighted among the shrubs beneath without sustaining any material injury.

In these royal apartments, we were shown a tunnel, like a chimney, in the wall of the king’s chamber, communicating with the outer rampart, by means of which, in case of surprise or danger, the royal fugitive could have been lowered in a basket, and enabled to make his escape beyond the walls. Had a similar contrivance existed at Carisbrook, it would have served his purpose better. But there he was indeed a prisoner. Here he had the lives and services of a whole garrison at his command; with Worcester himself, the most devoted friend the king ever possessed, to provide against every danger, and supply every want.

A light and elegant stone window is here pointed out as that to which the king often resorted, on account of the richly variegated and extensive view which it commands of hill and dale, wood and water; trees, hamlets, and farmhouses, covering a rich and well-cultivated tract of land. These natural beauties are as fresh as ever; while the splendid building, from which he then

contemplated the scene, is reduced to a lonely ruin--thus apostrophized by the muse of Bloomfield:--

“Majestic Raglan! harvests wave Where thundering hosts their watchword gave; When cavaliers, with downcast eye, Struck the last flag of loyalty!”

The Cellars. --These subterranean receptacles are of vast extent; and, in massive strength and proportions--like a crypt under a cathedral--are worthy of the noble edifice that covers them. In times of danger, and particularly during the siege, they appear to have served the manifold purposes of cellars, storehouses, larders, magazines, and muniments of war, with provisions for a numerous garrison and household.

At the north-eastern part of the court, the buildings were nearly all mutilated, or thrown down by the enemy’s batteries, which, from a rising ground in the line of his approach, played with destructive force upon this portion of the walls. Fragments, however, still remain to show the predominant features of the Castle--its strength and beauty. From this point, we are told, communication with the citadel was secured by means of a sumptuous arched bridge, with a gate to correspond. But of these no distinct vestiges are left. The “sumptuous bridge” is replaced by a rustic structure of wood; the moat it spans is half filled with decayed vegetables and debris; and the water, that formerly enclosed the Keep like a wall of crystal, is now covered with a sluggish green surface, that exhibits a very different kind of life.

In other parts of the moat, however, it is deep and transparent, mostly so at the south corner, where masses of verdure--with a particularly old and very picturesque tree, as shown in the illustration--are reflected as if in a mirror. This is probably the most interesting point of view in the whole Castle. Of a still summer evening, about sunset, the outline of the gray towers and battlements, with all their contrasted features of light and shade, beauty and decay--here fringed with wood, and there displaying honourable scars--sleeps on the face of the water like an inverted picture. The scene, with all its singular accompaniments, has then a dreaminess of romance about it, similar to that which the Fata Morgana conjures up on the Straits of Messina--but with this important difference, that the scenery here, however romantic, is real and substantial; that all we behold is the work of Art, over which Nature has only thrown her splendid illusion of cloud, sunshine, and exuberant vegetation.

Tower of Gwent. --This tall and massive structure, built as if to defy the united force of time and violence, forms the Citadel or Donjon-Tower of the fortress; and points very expressively to those remote times, when the peace of a great man’s household depended on the strength of his walls, and the number and courage of his retainers. In a direct line with this Castle were three gates; the first of brick, from which, at the distance of one hundred and eighty feet, and with an ascent of many steps, was the White Gate, built of square stone. At some distance on the left stands the Melin y Gwent , or Yellow Tower of Gwent, which for strength, height, and workmanship, surpassed most other towers, if not every other, in England or Wales. It had six sides, each thirty-two feet wide, and ten feet thick, built of square stone, and in height five stories. Its battlements, never meant to resist cannon shot, are only eight inches thick; but so symmetrical and compactly set, that they appear as if cut out of a solid block. During the siege--hereafter to be described--this portion was soon demolished by the batteries directed against it by Fairfax; but his heaviest guns, eighteen and twenty pounders, took no more effect on the body of the tower, than if they had opened upon a solid rock.[237] Our ancestors appear to have been particularly well skilled in the composition of their cement, which in Raglan is now nearly as hard as the stones it holds together. When the Goths and Vandals of the country--the blind instruments of Fairfax--were summoned to demolish with their pickaxes what the besiegers’ cannon had spared, their republican zeal was attended with little success; for “after battering of the top,” they were obliged, as we shall see, to desist from that method as fruitless, and adopt other means for its destruction.[238]

This Tower communicated with the Castle by means of an elegant arched bridge encircled by an outer wall, with six arched and embattled turrets, all of square stone. Adjoining this was a deep moat, thirty feet broad, and supplied by a clear running stream, from which the water-works, so much the fashion in those days, threw up columns of water as high as the Castle battlements. Along the edge of the moat, was a commodious sunken walk, embellished with grotto-work, statues of the Twelve Cæsars, and otherwise ornamented with the choicest productions of Nature and Art. This was the walk to which the family could resort at all seasons, whether for exercise or meditation. Within the walls and the green adjoining--then the bowling-green, and twelve feet higher than the walk--was a garden plat, the size of which was proportioned to the tower. Next to this plat--as shown in the accompanying ground-plan--stood the Barn.

In casting the eye over the whole circuit of these buildings, the mind is astonished at the immense labour which must have been exerted to collect together such a quantity of materials of various descriptions. And here it may