Part 26

Outworks of Raglan. --On this head little remains to be added. The details, given in the first volume of this work, respecting castles of the middle ages, preclude the necessity of our doing more than simply referring the reader to those passages in the description of Rochester and Arundel, which equally apply to Raglan. With respect to the outworks of the latter, a very brief notice may here suffice. By a practical eye the line of fortification may still be traced; and what remains of the original defences thrown up during the siege, shows very clearly that the military engineers employed were men whose skill and science did credit to the age. The vestiges of this lamentable war are mostly observable on the west side of the castle, where a strong bastion, projecting from the exterior wall of the fortification, forms a striking feature of the outworks, and a no less striking contrast with the luxuriant vegetation which now crowns, and almost conceals, these monuments of a barbarous and unnatural war. The point to which we allude, is that represented in the engraving, and entitled the “Avenue,” where the state apartments, unlatticed, roofless, and dilapidated, look down upon the green belt of trees and underwood that surround them with a melancholy aspect--but a melancholy that imparts feelings of thankfulness to the lovers of peace; for it tells very plainly that the devastating storm has long subsided, and that the sunshine of national prosperity and contentment has again visited the scene. The engines of war have disappeared; the ramparts, raised by men for the destruction of their fellow-men, are now razed to the ground. Nature--striving to throw her green mantle of oblivion over a scene from which she was so rudely banished by the violence of war--smiles at her own bloodless triumph, and peoples the over-arching groves with feathered tribes that sing no songs but those of peace and joy--

“Where once the steel-clad warrior trod, Spring renews her verdant wreath; And o’er the once ensanguined sod, Flowers their mingled incense breathe. Where the clang of clarion rose, All is silence and repose; Save where, in yonder halls of state, The blackbird serenades his mate.”

We now proceed to a brief notice of the environs:[306]--

Raglan Church has little to interest the archæological inquirer beyond its antiquity--and its claim to this distinction is fully vindicated by its appearance. It consists of a nave, side aisles, a chancel, and a square embattled tower, which, with a few trees throwing their shadows over the burial-ground, forms a pleasing landmark in the distance. We had the pleasure of uniting in the Morning Service before leaving the village, and were much gratified by the religious demeanour which pervaded the congregation, and edified by the simple but impressive discourse with which the service was terminated.

Every feature seems stamped with the seal of antiquity; at first sight nothing seems to have been renewed, or removed in the sacred edifice, for at least two centuries. The great-great-grandfathers of the present race may have occupied the same pews, knelt at the same altar, and been addressed from the same pulpit; for the materials of which these are composed seem as if framed to survive kingdoms and empires.

Over the Raglan Vault in the chancel, already noticed, some rusty trophies of chivalry are suspended; and beneath repose several of the ancient lords by whom they were worn, or wielded. To the state of the monument itself, we have already alluded;[307] and judging from that of its prostrate or dislocated compartments, the sculpture must have been among the best specimens of its day, and employed on materials worthy to transmit the family names to posterity; for it is of rare and variegated marble, and appears to have been, according to monkish--but in contempt of all classical--taste, elaborately gilded.

It has been regretted by visitors, that a tomb, in which are deposited the remains of a nobleman--to whom the credit of a renowned invention unquestionably belongs--should not be restored, or at least repaired. By others, who regard it merely as an example of the Arts at that early period, it is only a broken link in the chain of sepulchral associations, which the skill and pencil of the artist can readily supply. There might, indeed, be an appearance of inconsistency--a want of harmony--in restoring the old family sepulchre, while the Castle itself is left to destruction. In certain conditions and situations, a fragment is more interesting than the original monument; and such, perhaps, is the only interest which that in question ought to excite. But with regard to the noble dust, we need only say--

“Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven; Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remembered in thy epitaph.”

The family residence, more immediately connected with that of Raglan, and to which, in the course of this article, special attention was directed in our notice of the royal visit to the Marquess of Worcester, is--

Troy House. --This name--which the King was so much pleased to use as a classical synonyme, in his acknowledgment of the fruits which it had furnished for the royal table while at Raglan--is so called from its situation on the river Trothy. The village of Mitchell Troy, about a mile and a half from Monmouth, contains a church dedicated to St. Michael; but the chief object to which the tourist’s eye is directed is the baronial mansion above-named. The house, which was already in high repute at the time of the King’s visit to Raglan, was built by Inigo Jones, who, in the suite of Christian IV. of Denmark, came back to England in 1606. In consequence of the patronage of James the First--and more particularly of his Queen--he was induced to settle in the metropolis; and hence originated the sacred, regal, and aristocratic edifices which bear his name. He was consequently appointed one of the commissioners for repairing St. Paul’s Cathedral; but this was not commenced until the spring of 1623. In the following reign he was much employed in preparing Masques for the entertainment of the court, and in building the Banqueting-house at Whitehall; but while thus engaged, he fell under the displeasure of Ben Jonson, who ridiculed him on the stage, and made him the subject of his epigrammatic muse. Jones realized a handsome fortune; but being a Roman Catholic, and a partisan of royalty, he suffered severely in the Civil War. At length, worn out with sorrow and physical sufferings, he died in July, 1652, leaving behind him many monuments of his genius, of which the subject under notice was not the least considerable.[308]

The fame of Troy House, however, depends less on the fact of its being the work of Inigo Jones, than upon the celebrity of its gardens--the fruits of which are still said to vie with those of tropical growth.[309] The excellence of these fruits, as already noticed, caused the King to remark, “That the Sovereign of the Planets had now changed the poles; and that Wales, the outcast of England’s fine gardens, had fairer and riper fruits than England’s valleys had in all her beds.” Sir Charles Somerset, sixth son of the fourth Earl of Worcester, married Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Sir William Powel of Troy and Llanpylt , and added the influence of a considerable estate to that of the house of Worcester. It was from his gardens that the dessert for the royal table at Raglan was supplied.

In the picture gallery of Troy House is a large and beautiful portrait of the first Marquess of Worcester, by Sir Peter Lely. He is represented in an open field, seated before a tent, with the Marchioness and an infant daughter by her side, and wears a fancy dress, with a scarf over his right shoulder--the ribbon and badge of the Garter. The other portraits are those of the Ducal house of Beaufort, since its creation in 1682.

The situation of this hereditary mansion is too low to produce a striking feature in the landscape; but it commands very agreeable views of the town of Monmouth and its environs--with the rivers Monnow and Wye, whose waters unite and form one channel a short distance below Troy House.

Grosmont , from which the lords of Raglan take the rank of Viscount, is entitled to a brief notice in this place. In old writings it is spelt Grysmond, and contains a population of about eight hundred. The parish church, dedicated to St. Nicholas, is in the patronage of the Prince of Wales. In the churchyard, in the east wall of the chancel, is a monumental slab, said to cover the remains of Kent, or Gwent, a Franciscan monk, whose wonderful achievements in the early part of the fourteenth century[310] afford materials for many local traditions. According to one of these, the inhabitants are indebted to this good neighbourly monk for the bridge over the Monnow, on the road to Kentchurch in Herefordshire. It is called John of Kent’s Bridge , and is said to have been built in one night.

The Castle of Grosmont is a picturesque ruin.[311] It stands on a height commanding the view of a beautiful valley watered by the river Monnow, and bounded by Craig Savenny and the Garway Hill. The remains of this ancient castle occupy the summit of this hill, or rather eminence; its ivied walls, partly impending over the precipitous banks of the river, and towering at intervals through a grove of wide-spreading oaks, render the view extremely picturesque.

“By Grysmond’s ruins, scarred with years, On yonder roofless turret standing, How rich--how beautiful appears The scene beneath my eye expanding! The oak’s green banner clothes the steep, There--herds and harvests bless the Giver; And there, in many a crystal sweep, Descends the Monnow’s classic river! And here--if e’er romance be found To love the vale or haunt the mountain-- Here is her home, with ivy bound, And here her grot, and crystal fountain. And here--to him who seeks repose, By sorrow worn, or passion driven-- Here is a refuge from his woes, And here sweet intercourse with Heaven!” &c.

Monmouth. --Of this ancient town and its Castle , the limits prescribed to the present work will not permit us to indulge in any minute description. But before entering upon the Abbey of Llanthony --the next subject for illustration--the birthplace of Henry the Fifth is entitled to a general notice. The bridge over the Monnow, with its ancient gate-house at the west end, is, perhaps, the most striking feature of the place. Two other bridges, one over the Trothy, and a third over the Wye, contribute in no small degree to heighten the picturesque effect, as the stranger perambulates the scene and recalls the many interesting facts, connected with Monmouth and its vicinity, which to history and romance have given an early and permanent lustre.

The Castle --of which so little remains that its original appearance can only be described by reference to the historical fragments that still mark the spot--is of unquestionable antiquity. It is supposed to have been built--or rather perhaps rebuilt--by John of Monmouth , whose adherence to the Barons cost him his estate, but contributed to the success of the cause in which he had embarked. The King having created his son Earl of Lancaster, this estate was annexed to the earldom. The Castle became a favourite residence of John of Gaunt, to whom it descended by his marriage with Blanche, daughter of Henry of Monmouth, Duke of Lancaster. It was in this Castle that the unfortunate Edward the Second was confined when taken prisoner by his Queen Isabella.[312]

But the glory of the place is its association with Henry V. , son of Henry of Bolingbroke, who was born here,[313] and whose name and renown are so familiar to every reader of our national history and the drama. His dissipated habits while Prince of Wales, and his glorious achievements in the conquest of France, have been so inimitably portrayed by Shakspeare, that he still seems to live in our own age--in the country which his worth and valour adorned--and to be as agreeably associated with our familiar recollections as the most illustrious characters of our own day. His good-humoured dissipation and pleasantry in youth, became the foil to his subsequent greatness; and was probably as much the origin of that strong admiration with which he is still regarded, as his general talents, or the splendour of those victories, to which his personal courage and address so mainly contributed. At the time, as the reader may recollect, when the French realm was torn asunder by the opposing factions of the Dukes of Orleans and Burgundy, Henry took the favourable moment for reviving the claims of his predecessors upon France. Placing himself at the head of his army, he landed at Harfleur, and with only fifteen thousand men, opposed to upwards of fifty thousand, won the battle of Agincourt, and returned to England covered with renown. Apart from the splendour, however, which attended the campaign, it has been justly remarked that his reign was more brilliant than beneficial; for whilst his triumph entailed great misery on France, it “did more harm than good” to the true interests of England.[314] But his life was short--too short for maturing the plans he had in view for consolidating the fruits of a brief but eventful career; and while his greatest projects seemed to be advancing to a successful issue, Henry of Monmouth was suddenly cut off at the age of thirty-four.

The connection of this gallant prince and sovereign with Monmouth, invests it with a lasting claim to veneration on the part of those tourists who judge of the soil by the character of its products. In the words of Fluellen, “All the water in Wye cannot wash your Majesty’s Welsh plood out of your pody;” nor, we may add, weaken a single link of that chain which connects the hero of Agincourt with the history of Monmouth.

The Bridge , of which a cut is here introduced, was erected by Edward the First in 1272. Surmounting the Saxon gateway is a room, used as a guard-room or a magazine; and immediately above the arch are three loopholes, made by the authorities of the place, when, at a very recent period, they apprehended a sudden irruption of Chartists from Newport.

During the civil war, Monmouth was justly considered as a position of vast importance. After the defeat of the King’s army at Marston Moor, Prince Rupert directed his attention to the marches of Wales. He resolved to fortify Beachley, and with troops of horse to secure the isthmus between the rivers Severn and Wye; but in this attempt he was out-manœuvred by Colonel Massey. Lieut.-Colonel Kyrle afterwards negotiated with Massey to deliver up the town of Monmouth, then held for the King. Having revolted from the Parliamentary army on the loss of Bristol, he was willing to purchase reconciliation at the price of Monmouth. He proposed to Colonel Massey to feign a sudden return with his forces from Beachley to Gloucester, when he agreed to make a sortie from Monmouth, as if to fall on his rear, which might then drive him back, and in the pursuit enter the town with him. Massey, accordingly, gave out the necessity of a retreat; and having marched three miles, lodged his troops in the Forest of Dean. This was no sooner reported at Monmouth, than Kyrle drew out his men to follow in the rear of Massey. Accordingly, about a mile from Colford, he was surprised by Massey, and all his horsemen were led towards Monmouth. But the town having been alarmed by an officer who had escaped, the garrison were on the alert; yet, as Kyrle himself advanced to the drawbridge with a hundred horse, and pretended to be returning with many prisoners, the officers and soldiers were thrown off their guard; and with the consent of the governor, Colonel Holtby, the drawbridge was lowered, and the town was entered. “The governor and most of the garrison escaped, some prisoners were made, and the rest were put to the sword.”

The loss of Monmouth, so justly considered the key of South Wales, alarmed the garrison of Raglan Castle. The old Marquess called in the assistance of Prince Rupert’s cavalry, which obtained some advantages over the flying parties of Massey, but could not disturb his possession of Monmouth, in which he was strongly fortified.

Geoffrey of Monmouth, whose name gives additional lustre to the place, was also a native of this town. He is supposed to have been educated in the ancient Benedictine Priory, founded by Wihenoc de Monmouth, in the reign of Henry the First. A small chamber of the ancient monastery has long been shown to inquisitive tourists, as the library of Geoffrey. The apartment bears in the ceiling and windows certain traces of former magnificence; but the art is of a later period than the first Henry’s reign, and probably contemporary with that of Tinterne. Geoffrey, whose fame as the historian of Britain takes precedence of all his contemporaries, was archdeacon of his native town, and subsequently, through the patronage of Robert, Earl of Gloucester, and Alexander, Bishop of Lincoln--both renowned as the friends of learning--promoted to the bishopric of St. Asaph. His history is considered to be a vitiated translation of the “Annals of the British Kings,” written by St. Thalian, Bishop of St. Asaph, who flourished in the seventh century. It is very entertaining, and forms an epoch in the literature of this country, being almost the first production which introduced that species of composition called _Romance_. “Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History,” says Campbell in his elaborate Essay on English Poetry, “was not a forgery, but derived from an Armorican original, and with the pseudo-Turpin’s Life of Charlemagne, was the grand historical magazine of the romancers. Popular songs,” he adds, “about Arthur and Charlemagne--or, as some will have it, Charles Martel--were probably the main sources of Turpin’s forgeries, and of Geoffrey’s Armorican book.”

In Geoffrey will be found the affecting history of Lear,[315] King of Britain, who divided his kingdom between Gonerilla and Regan, his two elder daughters, and disinherited his youngest daughter Cordelia. Hence Shakspeare drew his incomparable tragedy of “King Lear,” but improved the pathos of the story by making the death of Cordelia precede that of Lear; while in the original, the aged father is restored to his kingdom, and Cordelia survives him. Milton also was indebted to Geoffrey of Monmouth for his beautiful fiction of Sabrina in the “Mask of Comus.” But to return to the scene under notice:--

The Priory , of which little remains, was a cell belonging to the Benedictine Monastery of Saumur in Anjou; and in this, as we have said, the renowned Geoffrey is believed to have prosecuted his studies. By some writers he is called a monk of the Dominican order; but, according to Leland, the fact has never been established; nor have we any sure grounds for believing that, as others report, he attained the dignity of Cardinal under the Holy See. He has higher claims to the reverential remembrance of posterity, than either a monk’s cowl or a cardinal’s hat. But notwithstanding his reputed Treatise on the Holy Sacrament, and poetical Commentaries on Merlin, his fame must ever rest on the original, or translated, History[316] of Britain, to which we have already alluded.

Queen Elizabeth, we are told, was fond of tracing her descent from the British line; and Spenser, in his “Faërie Queen,” introduces his Chronicle of Briton Kings, from Brut to Arthur, with the following address:--

“Thy name, oh Soveraine Queene , thy realme and race, From this renowned Prince derived arre, Who mightily upheld that royal mace, Which now thou bear’st, to thee descended farre, From mighty Kings and Conquerors in warre. Thy fathers and thy grandfathers of old, Whose noble deeds above the northern starre, Immortal Fame for ever hath enrolled, As in that Old Man’s book they were in order told.”

Near the bridge of the Monnow stands the ancient--

Church of St. Thomas. The simplicity of its form--to quote the historian of the place--the circular shape of the door, the arch separating the nave from the chancel, the ornaments of which bear a Saxon character, seem to indicate that it was constructed before the Conquest. The western window and some of the other apertures--which are ornamented Gothic--have been evidently formed since the original foundation.

Monmouth , the Blestium of Antoninus, is supposed to have been the site of a Roman station. We know, from historical records, that it was a fortress in early times, and one of the strongholds occupied by the Saxons to maintain their conquests between the Severn and the Wye, and check the incursions of the Welsh. The town appears to have been fortified with a wall and a moat, except where it was secured by the river. At the Leland’s Survey, parts of the dilapidated walls were still remaining, the moat entire, the four gates standing, which he calls the Monk’s Gate, to the north; the Eastern Gate; the Wyegate; and the Monnow or Western Gate. At present there are few or no distinct vestiges of the walls; and the only part of the moat which can be traced, was pointed out as that stretching from the back of Whitecross Street to the remains of an ancient gateway, and thence to the Wye. Of the four gates mentioned by Leland, that called the Monk’s Gate, which stood near the Hereford road, is now demolished. Parts of two round towers which flanked the eastern gate are visible. Of the latter no traces are left. But that over the Monnow, as shown in the preceding cut, is nearly entire, and bears the marks of very great antiquity. It was the opinion of a celebrated historian of the place, that the circular arches, the massive solidity of the structure, and some minuter features, were sufficient to remove all doubts as to its Saxon origin; and that the alterations it underwent in the time of the first Edward, were only repairs executed in conformity with the original plan. But as this is not a field for antiquarian disquisitions--but only a record of opinions generally received--we are content to follow the popular belief, and assign to it a date somewhat anterior to that of the Conquest.

Of Monmouth, Churchyard sings:--

“The Kinge here borne did prove a peerless Prince; He conquered France and reigned nine yeares in hap; There was not here so great a victor since, That had such chaunce and fortune in his lap. For he by fate and force did covet all, And, as turn came, stroke hard at Fortune’s ball, With manly mind, and ran a reddie waye To lose a feint, or winne the gole by playe. If Monmouth bring such princes forth as this, A soyle of grace it shall be call’d of right; Speake what you can, a happie seat it is, A trim shiere town for noble Baron or Knight; A cittie sure, as free as is the best, Where ’Size is kept, and learned lawyers rest; Such auncient wise, in meete and wholesome ayre, Where the best sort of people do repayre.”

Kymin Hill , on the south-east side of Monmouth, commands one of the finest views in the kingdom. To this enchanting prospect, the celebrated lines by Dyer may be applied with little alteration:--