Part 27

“Now I gain the mountain’s brow-- What a landscape lies below! No clouds, no vapours intervene; But the gay, the open scene, Does the face of Nature show In all the hues of heaven’s bow; And, swelling to embrace the light, Spreads around beneath the sight. Old castles on the cliffs arise, Proudly towering in the skies; Rushing from the woods, the spires Seem from hence ascending fires. Half his beams Apollo sheds On the yellow mountain heads, Gilds the fleeces of the flocks, And glitters on the broken rocks.”

“And see the rivers, how they run Through woods and meads, in shade and sun! Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view?”

* * * * *

AUTHORITIES quoted or referred to in the preceding article on Raglan Castle and its vicinity:--Dugdale--Camden--Collins’ Peerage--Speed--Hollinshed--Williams’ Monmouth--Grafton--Robert of Gloucester--Illustrations of British History--Peck’s Curiosa--Stow--Winwood--Manners and Customs of England--Pictorial History--Memoirs of the Court of James I.--Osborne’s Memoirs--Evelyn’s Diary--Strutt--Somers’ Tracts--Howel’s Letters--Barber’s Tour--Bayly’s Apophthegms of the Marquess of Worcester--Churchyard--Wood’s Rivers of Wales--Thomas’ Raglan--Carne--Archæological Journal--Clarendon’s History--Certamen Religiosum--Ellis’s Original Letters--Memoirs of Swift--Carlyle--Parliamentary Papers--Mercurius Civicus--Edwards--The Family History--History of the Civil War--Chronicles--Rushworth’s Papers--Lodge’s Illustrations--County History and Local Descriptions--Sir R. Colt Hoare--Coxe--Notes of a Personal Visit to Raglan--Communications from Correspondents, etc.--_See_ APPENDIX.

LLANTHONY ABBEY,

Monmouthshire .

“‘Mongst Hatteril’s lofty hills, that with the clouds are crowned, The valley Ewias lies immured so steep and round, As they believe that see the mountains rise so high, Might think the straggling herds were grazing in the sky; Which in it such a shape of solitude doth bear, As Nature at the first appointed it for prayer ; Where in an aged cell, with moss and ivy grown, In which not to this day the sun hath ever shone; That reverend British Saint , in zealous ages past, In contemplation lived, and did so truly fast, As he did only drink what crystal Hodney yields, And fed upon the leeks he gathered in the fields. In memory of whom, in the revolving year, The Welshmen on his day that sacred herb do wear!”--_Drayton._

William , one of the Baron’s retainers, feeling oppressed by the heat of the weather, and fatigued by the roughness of the mountain tract through which they had passed, gladly threw himself down on the soft grass to seek a few minutes’ repose. But the novelty and grandeur of the scene awakening his curiosity, he was tempted to make a hasty survey of the spot; and turning towards the river, that here and there filled the solitude with its murmurs, he caught a glimpse of the little chapel with which St. David had hallowed the scene. Suddenly inspired with religious enthusiasm, he felt an irresistible inclination to linger near the spot; and at last, dismissing his attendants, he took up his new abode in the desert; and, like his devout predecessor, consecrated his life to the service of God, or rather to the contemplation of divine things. He laid aside his belt--says the recording monk of Llanthony--and girded himself with a rope. Instead of fine linen, he made unto himself a vestment of haircloth; and instead of a soldier’s cloak, he loaded himself with heavy iron. The suit of armour which, in his warrior life, had defended him from the weapons of the enemy, he now wore as a garment highly suitable for hardening him against the temptations of his old enemy, Satan. So that the outer man being thus mortified by austerity, the inner man might become day by day better disposed and purified for the service of God. And in order that his zeal might not cool, adds the pious historian, he thus sacrificed himself, and continued to wear his hard armour, until the iron and steel were absolutely worn out with rust and age.

In this manner the devout ascetic spent his years, which otherwise might have been devoted, like those of his kinsmen, to acts of plunder and bloodshed; and it only leaves room for regret that his example was not more generally followed by his companions, whose armour, unfortunately for mankind, was never suffered to “rust;” and who often, at that period, transformed the beautiful Welsh frontier into a wide battle-field. The austerity of his life, witnessed by the rust on his armour, established his reputation for sanctity; and the cell that harboured a pious philosopher, was soon regarded as a shrine where he maintained constant intercourse with those angels and blessed spirits, whose office was to watch over the saints of that early day.

His fame becoming general among the religious fraternities, Father Ernesi , confessor to Queen Maude, was induced to make a pilgrimage to the Honddy; and there, entering into a holy alliance with the steel-clad hermit, he set immediately to work, and with most laudable industry erected a chapel on the spot, which was consecrated by Urban, Bishop of the Diocese, and Rammeline, Bishop of Hereford, and dedicated to the honour of St. John the Baptist, whose solitary life in the wilderness they affected to imitate.

Soon after this event, in the early history of Llanthony, Hugh de Laci, Earl of Hereford, listening to the ghostly exhortation of Ernesi, to evince his faith by good works, founded a Priory of Canons-Regular of the Order of St. Augustine , and placed it with all solemnity, as in the former instance, under the patronage of the blessed St. John. Of this new establishment, Father Ernesi, as he had a good right to expect, was elected Prior. This was the commencement of a new and important era for the fame of Llanthony, which, under the united management of the twain brothers--both in the odour of sanctity--acquired daily reputation, and drew to its sacred precincts some of the greatest men of the realm. The temporal affairs of the rising Abbey attained unwonted prosperity by the personal countenance and support of King Henry and his Queen, who were but too happy to exchange a portion of their superfluous wealth for an interest in the prayers of that holy brotherhood, who had elevated the banks of the Honddy to a near relationship with Heaven, and held in their hands--as it was currently believed--the “title-deeds of rich and extensive settlements in Paradise. And as the latter were assigned, without partiality, to the highest bidder,” the proceeds for masses alone--we speak not ironically but historically--increased the annual revenues to an amount that, in those times, was justly considered a fair proof of monastic prosperity. On the other hand, it is piously averred, that such was the disinterestedness and unworldly-mindedness of the brotherhood, that they despised everything that bore not the stamp of spiritual riches--that they declined all offers of lands, goods, and chattels, that were liberally tendered to their house.[317] In that case it seems probable that the Abbey of Llanthony was not erected in the ordinary way; that is, by dint of money, but by the force of miracles; and, like a certain city of old, was conjured into its fair and lofty proportions by the powers of Harmony. But after duly weighing the question, the evidence in favour of money seems conclusive; and indeed certain _scripta_ are now extant to show that the brotherhood of Llanthony were not less sensible of the value of money--as a spiritual means--than any of their illustrious fraternity. But it may be said, with much truth, that the uses to which their money was applied, produced those “miracles” of Art, which it is the object of this work to illustrate.

[It is always to be kept in view, that these holy men, in professing poverty, were, literally, personally poor. The riches, of which they were merely the guardians--but which are so often charged against them as proofs of their avarice--were expended on the house of God; in other words, in fostering the arts, in relieving the poor, in practical hospitality, and in cultivating a niggardly soil. Personally, they were poor trustees upon a vast property, which they were bound to employ for the glory of God and the good of mankind; and if, in some cases that may be named, the funds thus contributed by the pious were perverted to less laudable purposes, the fact that, in general, they were applied to the excellent uses contemplated by the testators, is not to be controverted. The churches, hospitals, almshouses, cells, and priories, which were thus founded, built, and endowed from these sources, are proofs of the fidelity, good sense, and Christian philanthropy, with which the church property was then administered.]

Once upon a time, as the Monkish historian has told us, the Queen of King Henry, who desired to bestow a boon on William, of whose entire disinterestedness she was not apprised, desired permission to put her hand into his bosom;[318] and when, with great modesty, the holy man submitted to her importunity, she conveyed a large purse of gold between his coarse chemise and iron boddice; and thus, by a pleasant and innocent subtilty, administered, as she imagined, the means of comfort. But, oh, his wonderful contempt of the world! He displayed a rare example that the truest happiness is found to consist in possessing little or nothing of the good things of this life. He accepted, indeed, the Queen’s gift; but it was only that it might be expended, not in any worldly or selfish gratification, but in beautifying the house of God.

But having by this act overcome the scrupulous delicacy with which he had hitherto resisted the temptation of riches, they now flowed in from every quarter, until that noble edifice was completed, the mouldering Nave of which is represented in the engraving opposite.[319]

Of the situation of the Abbey , a very picturesque and glowing description, in good Latin, is given by the old historian, who paints the wild scenery, in which the first hermits took up their abode, with the pencil of a Salvator.[320] The following translation, though from a modern pen, is also a picturesque and not inaccurate sketch of the scene, which retains all the natural features ascribed to it by the first writer; but with one engrossing feature superadded--that of a stately abbey in the last stage of desolation--its towers and arches bearing witness to the arts employed in its construction, and the sacred objects of its foundation. In the following passage, Giraldus alludes to the Itinerary of Archbishop Baldwin[321] in 1188.

“In the deep Vale of Ewyas ,” he writes, “which is about an arrow-shot in breadth, encircled on all sides by lofty mountains, stands the church of St. John the Baptist, covered with lead, and an arched roof of stone; and considering the nature of the place, not unhandsomely constructed on the very spot where the humble chapel of St. David had formerly stood, decorated only with moss and clay, a situation truly calculated for religious retirement, and better adapted for canonical discipline than all the monasteries of the British isle. It was founded, as already observed, by two hermits, in honour of religious seclusion, far removed from the bustle of life, and planted in a solitary vale watered by the river Hodeni--from which it was called Lanhodeni; for _lan_ signifies an ecclesiastical place.[322]

“Owing to its mountainous situation, the rains are frequent, the winds boisterous, and the clouds in winter almost continual. The air of the place, though heavy, is found to be salubrious; and diseases are so rare, that the brotherhood, when worn out with long toil and affliction with the daughter--that is, New Llanthony on the Severn--no sooner return to this asylum, and their mother’s lap in the Vale of Ewyas, than they regain their wonted strength and vigour. For, as my topographical history of Ireland testifies, in proportion as we proceed to the eastward, the face of the sky is more pure and subtile, and the air more piercing and inclement; and as we draw nearer to the westward, the air becomes more cloudy, but, at the same time, is more temperate and healthy.

“Here, while sitting in their cloister, and enjoying the fresh air, the monks, when they happen to look up towards the horizon, behold the tops of the mountains, as it were, touching the heavens, and herds of wild deer feeding on their summits. The body of the sun does not become visible above the heights of the mountains, even in serene weather, until about the first hour, or a little more. Truly this is a spot well adapted for contemplation--a happy and delightful spot--fully competent, from its first establishment, to supply all its own wants, had not the extravagance of English luxury, the pride of a sumptuous table, the increasing growth of intemperance and ingratitude, added to the negligence of its patrons and prelates, reduced it from freedom to sterility; and if the step-daughter [Lanthonia Secunda], no less enviously than odiously, had not supplanted her mother.

It seems worthy of remark, that all the priors who were hostile to the old monastery died ‘by Divine visitation.’ William, who first despoiled the place of its herds and storehouses, being deposed by the fraternity, forfeited his right of sepulture among the priors. Clement seemed to like this place of study and prayer; yet, after the example of Heli [Eli], the priest, as he neither reproved nor restrained his brethren from plunder, and other offences, he died by a paralytic stroke. And Roger, who was more an enemy to this place than either of his predecessors, and openly carried away everything which they had left behind--robbing the church of its books, ornaments, and privileges--was also struck with a paralytic affection long before his death, resigned his honours, and lingered out the remainder of his days in sickness and solitude.

In the reign of King Henry the First, when the Mother-Church was as much celebrated for her affluence as for her sanctity[323]--two qualities which are seldom found thus united--the fame of so much religion attracted hither Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, who was at that time Prime Minister; for it is virtue to love virtue, even in another man; and a great proof of innate goodness it is to show a detestation of those vices which hitherto have not been avoided.

When he had reflected with admiration on the nature of the place, the solitary life[324] of the fraternity, living in canonical obedience, and serving God without a murmur or complaint, he returned to the King, and related to him what he thought most worthy of remark; and after spending the greater part of the day in the praises of this place, he finished his panegyric with these words--“Why should I say more? The whole treasure of the King and his kingdom would not be sufficient to build such a cloister.”

Having held the minds of the King and the Court for a long time in suspense by this assertion, he at length explained the enigma, by saying, that he alluded to the “cloister of mountains,” by which this church is on every side environed. But

William --the warrior who first discovered this place--and his companion Ernisius, a priest, having heard, perhaps--as it is written in the Fathers, according to the opinion of Jerome--“that the church of Christ decreased in virtues as it increased in riches”--were often used devoutly to solicit the Lord, that this place might never obtain great possessions. They were exceedingly concerned when this religious foundation began to be enriched by its first lord and patron, Hugh de Lacy , and by the lands and ecclesiastical benefices conferred upon it by the bounty of others of the faithful. From their predilection to poverty, they rejected a great many offers of manors and churches; and being situated in a wild spot, they would not suffer the thick and wooded parts of the valley to be cultivated and levelled, lest they should be tempted to recede from their eremitical mode of life.

But whilst the Mother-Church increased daily in riches and endowments, a rival Daughter --as we shall see--availing herself of the hostile state of the country, sprang up at Gloucester, under the protection of Milo, Earl of Hereford; as if, by Divine Providence, and through the merits of the saints, and prayers of those holy men (of whom two lie buried before the high altar), it were destined that the Daughter-Church should be founded in superfluities, whilst the Mother continued in that laudable state of mediocrity, which she had always affected and coveted.

“Wherefore let the active reside there, the contemplative here; there the pursuit of terrestrial wishes, and here the love of celestial delights; there let them enjoy the concourse of men, here the presence of angels; there let the powerful of this world be entertained, here let the poor of Christ be relieved; there, I say, let human actions and pompous declamations be heard, but here let reading and prayers be heard only in whispers; there let opulence, the parent and nurse of vice, increase with cares; here let the virtuous and golden mean be all-sufficient.

“In both places, the canonical discipline instituted by St. Augustine , which is now distinguished above all other orders, is observed; for the Benedictines, when their wealth was increased by the fervour of charity, and multiplied by the bounty of the faithful, under the pretext of a bad dispensation, corrupted, by gluttony and indulgence, our Order --that is, the Augustinian--which, in its original state of poverty, was held in high estimation. The Cistercian order, derived from the former, at first deserved praise and commendation, from its adhering voluntarily to the original vows of poverty and sanctity, until ambition, the blind mother of mischief, unable to fix bounds to prosperity, was introduced; for as Seneca[325] says, ‘Too great happiness makes men greedy, nor are their desires ever so temperate as to terminate in what is acquired.’”

Here the author, as if to contrast them with those of Llanthony Prima, indulges in a learned and eloquent apostrophe against the luxury and pride of several orders of monks. He concludes it with this anecdote: “I have judged it proper to insert in this place an instance of an answer which King Richard--Cœur de Lion--made to Fulke, a good and holy man, by whom God, in these our days, has wrought many signs in the kingdom of France. This man had, among other things, said to the king, “You have three daughters, namely, Pride, Luxury, and Avarice, and as long as they shall remain with you, you can never expect to be in favour with God.” To which the king, after a short pause, replied, “I have already given away those daughters in marriage--Pride to the Templars, Luxury to the Black Monks, and Avarice to the White.”[326]

“It is a remarkable circumstance,” he continues, “or rather a miracle, concerning Llanthony, that although it is on every side surrounded by lofty mountains, not stony or rocky, but of a soft nature, and covered with grass, yet Parian stones are frequently found there, and are called Freestones, from the facility with which they admit of being cut and polished; and with these the church is beautifully built. It is also wonderful, that when, after a diligent search, all the stones have been removed from the mountains, and no more can be found; yet, upon another search, a few days afterwards, they reappear in greater quantities to those who seek them.”

After some farther remarks on the manners of the monastic orders, the venerable author thus beautifully concludes:--“In these temperate regions I have obtained, according to the usual expression, a place of dignity, but no great omen of future pomp or riches; and possessing a small residence near the castle of Brecheinoc [Brecknock?], well adapted to literary pursuits, and to the contemplation of _eternity_,[327] I envy not the riches of Crœsus; happy and contented with that mediocrity, which I prize far beyond all the perishable and transitory things of this world.”

So far the monk of Llanthony--whose partiality is very excusable; but, unfortunately, the act or charter of Edward IV., uniting the two abbeys, gives a different colouring to the transactions between the two abbeys--mother and daughter. It recites that, owing to the depredations committed on the convent by the neighbouring inhabitants, and the frequent removal of the priors and other members of the convent, the religious functions were negligently performed, and acts of charity and hospitality to strangers no longer exercised: Also, that as John Adams, the prior, had profusely squandered away the revenues of the church, maintaining only four canons besides himself, who paid no attention to the holy duties of the establishment: And whereas all due regard and reverence were paid to the sacred offices of the church by the members of the monastery of new Llanthony near Gloucester, the king hereby grants all the lands--both in England, Wales, and Ireland--now appertaining to the convent of Llanthony in Wales, to the prior of the convent of Llanthony near Gloucester, to have and to hold for ever, on the payment of the fine of three hundred marks, and on condition that he maintains an establishment--dative and removable at will--of a prior and four canons, as the mother-church, for the purpose of performing religious service and mass for the souls of its founders. “Thus,” continues our author,[328] “in the short period of thirty years, we see the simple chapel of St. David transmuted into a spacious and elegant abbey; that same building nearly deserted, and another, still more magnificent, erected and translated from the solitary banks of the little river Hodni, to the rich and luxurious shores of the Severn.”