Part 30

The space, therefore, in which the most distant resemblance to ancient cultivation can be traced is comparatively small. It was, perhaps, under a strong conviction of great piety and great property being in their very nature antagonistic, that the “Province of Berkeley,” which the King had offered to the Canons of Llanthony, was so firmly declined. The vineyards, which it is understood were then common on the banks of the Severn, were not likely to fortify the mind against temptation, or reconcile the brotherhood to the abstinence and austerities of conventual life. But when he speaks of the tract as a “province,” we can easily imagine that, fertile as the native soil undoubtedly was, only a small portion of it was under cultivation; so that the annual revenue bore an exceedingly small proportion to its extent in acres. And so it was with the almost innumerable tracts of Church lands in every part of the kingdom; for until they were brought into cultivation and crop, their value was merely nominal. And how much is due to the skill and perseverance of the monks in the encouragement of agriculture? There is scarcely a hill or valley in the kingdom, from which their judicious exercise of plough, and spade, and mattock, did not produce its annual return in the necessaries of life. And hence the revenues, that in the course of years and centuries flowed in upon them, were the legitimate result of a liberal and vigilant economy. We are too apt to forget, whilst reckoning up the vast territories bequeathed from age to age to the church by penitent benefactors, that these same tracts were, in many instances, of little or no current value to their original owners; and that it was only by passing them into more skilful and industrious hands, that they became actually appreciable, as corn lands, orchards, and vineyards.

The Canons of Llanthony, in their local position, had neither the advantages of a fertile soil, nor the acquired habits, nor obligations of Rule, which rendered its cultivation imperative. Their revenues were drawn from a distance--some from remote parts in Ireland. But in their immediate neighbourhood, the monks had a brook and enclosed ponds that produced fish; forests that bred herds of deer, hares, and wild fowl; while patches of garden, orchard, and rye-field, supplied their table with that allowance of fruits and vegetables, herbs and roots, and coarse bread, which formed the daily items of their scanty fare. But when a stranger of note or a noble pilgrim arrived at the gate, the Prior’s table assumed the appearance of more than frugal hospitality; and all that forest or river could furnish for the entertainment of the honoured guest was liberally supplied.[345] As an established

Sanctuary --from which even the greatest offenders were not excluded--we have already noticed the shame and desecration inflicted upon Llanthony by a powerful native, who in the hour of despair had fled to its gate for shelter. To this disastrous visit no opposition could be offered. The sanctuary of St. John was alike available to all--to the guilty as well as to the innocent. And if it was too frequently a refuge for those who had set all laws at defiance, it was happily still more so to the sick and the friendless; to the helpless victim of oppression, who from the horns of the altar appealed to heaven for redress; and to the penitent, who could find no escape from the snares of evil associates, but in the confessional and the cloister. It had been a difficult task, in such circumstances, to discriminate between the claims of those who, in their distress, flew to the sanctuary--between great criminals and true penitents; and therefore it was better the gate should be open alike to all, than that one sincere penitent should be driven back into a world which, in the bitter hours of remorse, he had resolved to abandon. In such institutions there was a gentle union of wisdom and mercy, which the refinement of later times has done much to loosen, and little to perpetuate.

Of Llanthony , as it _now_ appears, the following sketch is from the pen of a recent visitor; and the contrast is picturesque and striking:--

“At the western end of the Nave rise two towers--one of them, with modernized doors and windows, is inhabited. An open arcade extends in front of part of the adjoining cloister, and advancing through the open door it shaded, we found ourselves in a long vaulted half-parlour half-kitchen, with old arms suspended above the fire-place; sides of bacon nobly flanking the whitewashed walls; old chairs and cabinets, and various minor articles of furniture, all arranged with a neatness which betokened that the presiding genius of the place was feminine. Just as we had come to this conclusion, forth stepped from an inner recess the gentle tenant of the abode of the ancient monks, with a quiet simplicity of manner which went to the heart of a weary pilgrim, and made him feel instantly as if at home, and welcome. A little repose, and a cup of tea beside a blazing hearth--for even in summer the air is shrewd among these hills at evening--entirely refreshed us; and just as the sun was going down in the west, we sallied forth to see the ruins. Albeit the hospitality in early times was here dispensed by shaven monks, and now by maidens fair, there is a singular charm felt by all who visit Llanthony, in this quiet living within the precincts of the Abbey, which interests the imagination, and helps to blend agreeably the past and present.

“With this half-dreamy feeling I went forth, and ascended a slight eminence to the westward, whence the whole pile extended at length its ruined towers and arches, half-buried in trees, and overhung with the lofty hills which shut in the vale, and opened no view to the distant world beyond. These hills were cultivated half-way up their sides; a few farms, each sending up its column of smoke, appeared at intervals, with paths leading up into the wild heath that clothed the summits. The evening sun cast a broad red light upon the west front and towers of the pile, and half gilded the remaining portion. I thought I had never beheld, even among the secluded abbeys of the Yorkshire dales, anything more romantically serene. It was getting dusk ere I could tear myself from the spot. The moon was that evening at the full; and it gave me the opportunity of rambling among the ruins, before I repaired to my dormitory in the abbey tower, which I ascended by a narrow flight of stone steps. One might, in idea, have gone back to the olden time, and fancied oneself a pilgrim in very earnest, receiving hospitality from the ancient tenants of the place, had it not been for the dainty whiteness of the bed, which occupied a story of the old tower--far different, I trow, from the rude pallets of these romantic but uncomfortable ages.”[346]

Sir R. Colt Hoare says, that when his friend Mr. Wyndham made the tour of Wales, in the year 1777, the Eastern front of the abbey was standing, but has since fallen; and its design is now only preserved by the view engraven of it in his book. When he accompanied Mr. Coxe, in the year 1800, to make drawings for his historical tour through Monmouthshire, the western front still retained its superior elegance: in the year 1801, one of the fine windows gave way; and two years later he was a mournful eye-witness, not only to the total downfall of the three windows which composed the principal ornament of the front, but of some modern architectural innovations, highly injurious to the picturesque appearance of this venerable structure. It is a melancholy reflection to the traveller, who repeats, at certain intervals, his visits to the many interesting spots selected by our ancestors, either for military or religious establishments, that at each visit he will, most probably, find them progressively verging to decay. But Llanthony, even amidst its ruins, still supplies the artist with many fine subjects for his pencil, and furnishes ample matter of inquiry and investigation to the architect and antiquarian. From certain data we have of its first construction, about the year 1108, and subsequent desertion in 1136, we are enabled to ascertain the style of architecture then adopted in monastic buildings, as there can be little doubt but that the ruins we now see are those of the original abbey.[347]

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Summary --[For the following details--slightly altered and abridged--we are indebted to a recent and popular Description of Llanthony Priory,[348] by the Rev. George Roberts, M.A., in which the ruins are traced with archæological taste and accuracy:]--

The west end is flanked by two low square massive Towers . The one on the south was fitted up by Colonel Wood, a former proprietor, with apartments for the grousing season, and is covered in with a sloping roof. The Abbot’s lodging, which joins on to the south side, is also turned into a dwelling-house for the steward of the estate, where visitors are obligingly accommodated. The stone staircase is perfect in the south tower, but broken in the north. The staircases were lighted by five chinks. Each tower on the outward face is divided into five stages by bold string-courses; the base is beveled off, and the ground story is broad and plain. The second and third stages are ornamented, arcade-fashion, on the side next to the west window, and the arches are pointed. The central compartment in each successive stage recedes. In the lowest story, two pointed windows have been disfigured by modern innovation. In the centre of the second story, a beautiful example of the round-headed Norman window remains perfect to the depth of the wall; the dripstone over it is plain in the north tower, but in the south is terminated by two corbel-heads. The third story is ornamented with a double long lancet-shaped blank window, of great elegance in design; the pointed heads spring from triple shafts with plain Norman capitals. Between these towers, thus ornamented so as to correspond, stood the great

West Window over the principal entrance, already noticed. Joining on to the south tower, there is a round-headed deep window, with a broad trefoiled head, belonging to a plain vaulted chamber called the Prior’s Lodging . This chamber abuts upon the church, and commences the conventual buildings. Entering by the west you see the interior of the whole church. The Nave was separated from the two Aisles on each side by eight obtusely-pointed arches, supported on massive pillars square without capitals; the bases ornamented with _ogee_ mouldings. A round moulding, deeply let in, runs from the base entirely round the arch, to the base on the opposite side.

The Arches on the north side still stand perfect. On the south four only remain, and these imperfect--two at each end of the Nave. The central arches fell in thirteen years ago (1837), on Ash-Wednesday, without any external notice, and whilst the family were at dinner. Had they fallen a few minutes sooner, some person must have been killed. The pressure of the clerestory windows, which on this side were destroyed, as upon the other, _overweighted_ the arches beneath, and forced them in. The four others remaining are in a very tottering condition--and would have fallen, if Mr. Webb, the steward, to whom the building is much indebted for its preservation, had not built up some rude but well-intentioned buttresses; which, however much they may disfigure, are essential to the strengthening of the remains. He also ingeniously hooped with iron two of the pillars, and by the application of the screw, has managed to bring them back into their former position.

The Side Aisles are completely down; but the termination of the North Aisle, with the only specimen of the roof remaining, is to be seen in the North Tower of the west front. Here there is also a long, deep, round-headed Norman window, looking to the north. The arch at the end of the Nave, next to the Tower, springs from a corbel, consisting of three truncated pillars with capitals. The bit of the roof of the Aisle which remains is heavily groined, and formed by the intersection of round arches. The flat wall buttress, on either side of the Tower, has at the top a square moulding, fluted, from which springs an arch spanning the Aisle--the only one of the series in existence. This is the most acutely pointed in the whole building, and gives an idea of the character of the rest belonging to the Aisles .

The Arches are divided from what seems to have been a triforium [Coxe, who saw it when perfect, calls it an upper tier of Norman arches], by a straight plain band. Between each arch is a corbel, formed of _three_ clustered pillars, as before, with plain Norman capitals, and worked off to a point, where the base should have been, six in number, and from these, evidently, sprung the vaulted and groined roof.

In the interior, above, nothing remains but a double window, pointed and elegant, which seems to have formed the lower portion of the deep Norman recessed arch, through which the passage ran along to the Bell-tower. This may be clearly traced from the exterior of the building. A low round-headed plain door connected each aisle with its contiguous transept. The square

Bell-tower was supported upon four large and noble pointed arches, of which the west and the south, together with the sides above them, are standing; although there is reason to fear for the latter, from the pressure of the superincumbent building, which has shattered and bowed it out. Only sixty years ago the Bell-tower was thirty-seven feet higher than at present, viz., sixty-three feet, as taken by an instrument--whence the entire height was at first exactly a hundred feet. The ruin now reaches but a short way above the dripstone of the roof. The west arch springs from a corbel of three stunted pillars, clustered, and terminating in a flower--the corbel on the opposite terminating in a square moulding of the ogee description. The gable in the western arch is pierced by two small plain Norman windows, and has a third narrow-pointed window in the apex.

The Staircase communicating with the belfry is lighted by a round-headed window. We may conjecture there were several _bells_ in the tower--carried off to Gloucester by Prior Roger.[349]

Transepts. --Nothing remains of the North Transept but one side of the window.--[See the woodcut.]--The South Transept is lighted upon the south by a double Norman window, the moulding and shaft plain, the window eighteen feet by three; and above them, in the gable, is a plain Rose window, of which nothing but the circular rim remains. The effect of this composition, from its simplicity, is exceedingly imposing. A bold Norman arch, supported by a plain Norman corbel pillar, with a cushion capital, communicates on the east, from the transept, with the Lady Chapel; and one step from the Tower leads into the Choir.

The Roof was supported upon pillars--lofty with Norman capitals. One on the south is perfect, and the base of the corresponding pillar is to be seen. The string-course runs over this pillar, and along the wall to the extremity of the Choir. At the distance of eighteen feet are traces of steps to the High Altar , flanked on either side by triple pillars, clustered; the distance from these steps to the east window is also eighteen feet. A long and exquisitely-proportioned round-headed window lighted the choir on the north side, and is quite perfect, except that the masonry above it is gone, leaving the naked rim of the head standing alone, with an effect at once graceful and melancholy. The space on the south side points out where the corresponding window stood. A gap shows the space occupied by the great east window, which was standing in Wyndham’s time. From his drawing, it appears to have been a fine pointed window, with tracery in the head, and having two small Norman lights in the gable above. A few mouldings are still extant, with slender shafts and Norman capitals in the wall where it was inserted.

As you return from the east, continues the historian of the Abbey, you are struck with two windows in the Bell-tower on the south side, in the second story. They consist of a round-headed arch, divided into two lights by a sturdy _balustre_, standing in the middle of the wall, and extending from its plinth to its capital, right through the centre to the top of the arch. Beyond this, in the thickness of the wall, vestiges of a passage are discovered, which seems to have formed a gallery round the tower. A round-headed plain Norman door, the jambs being low pillars with cushion capitals, at the west end of the choir, on the south side, leads into

The Lady Chapel. The slight remains of the corbels, from which the roof sprung, are here more elaborate in their work than in any other part of the building. We had some difficulty in tracing out the foundation.

The Chapter-house [350] was built in contiguity to the south side of the south transept. On the north side of it a stable is inserted, which prevents accurate observation. In a calf-pen or shed, however, we discovered the corresponding base of the columns to the other unencumbered side. It seems to have been a spacious and elegant room, of an oblong form, lighted at the east and at the south, where there is a deep recess, and traces sufficient to warrant the surmise that there were three Norman windows on that side. The south wall is ornamented and divided into four compartments by clusters of triple pillars, upon which the roof rested. The east end narrows in, and the entrance is from the west. On the south of the church, between the transept and the Chapter-house, is an

Oratory --the chapel already named--with an engroined roof in complete preservation. The central arch springs from a Norman corbel on each side, and two other arches form the angles of the building in the same manner. By their intersection the roof is formed. A deep Norman window is fixed in the east wall. The sides of the door consist of two pillars, capitals with flowers, and bases, ogee-shaped. South again of the chapter, a large space for a doorway--the side pillars of which are partly standing--opens into

The Refectory , of which the slight traces still in existence, defy anything like accuracy of detail. A rude window, chimney, and vaults, broken in and filled with rubbish, show where the offices and kitchen lay. Beyond these is a splendid Sewer , which has been mistaken by the common people to be the commencement of a subterraneous passage leading to “Oldham Castle,” under the mountains.

The Vivarium , or Fish-pond, is east of the church, and a mountain rill still runs through it. The whole of the conventual buildings, together with a close, amounting to seven acres, were surrounded by a wall. At some little distance south-west from the church, and divided from it by what is now a long meadow, stand

The Hospitium and Porter’s Lodge--the first of which is a barn, and has been enlarged for that purpose. A fine pointed arch, already alluded to, under which was the entrance gateway, still remains. The pillars upon which it rests are immensely strong--the capitals Norman and rudely carved. Above this were apartments lighted by two round-headed windows in the north gable; and in the south gable, by two windows with trefoil cusps, and one round-headed. An old fireplace above is also visible. The arches on the other side are blocked up with solid masonry. The Porter’s window is pointed, and looks to the west. In the “bay” of the barn, and on a level with the ground, on the west side, is a window deeply set in the wall, pointed; and in a line with it, a square open space, like the top of a buttery-hatch, with a large flat stone below, whence probably the dole [351] was distributed.

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RULES of St. Augustin. --Of these, the rules of Llanthony--which the reader will find printed at full in the history of the Order [352]--a few extracts may here suffice.

A. By the first rule, or condition, every candidate for admission into the Order was called upon to relinquish all property. He was to enter on a term of probation by the Prior . No Canon, on taking leave of the Order from necessity, was permitted to take any property away with him. If anything were offered him as a present, he was not at liberty to accept it, until he had obtained leave from the Prior. This rule was to apply equally to all, from the Superior downwards. Punishment was to be denounced for contumacy, and offences to be declared to the Præpositus , before whom all disagreements were to be laid for consideration and adjustment. All property detained as above-mentioned, through necessity, was to be handed over to the Superior .

B. They were carefully to remember what psalms were appointed to be sung at the stated hours, and nightly readings after Vespers . Manual labour was to continue from morning until Sext ; and from Sext till Nones was to be employed in reading. After refection, work was to be resumed till Vespers. In all matters of business connected with the convent, two monks were to act in concert; but none were permitted to eat or drink out of the house. Brothers sent to dispose of goods in public, for the benefit of the convent, were to be cautious of doing anything against the Rule. Idle talk, or gossiping, was strictly forbidden; and they were enjoined to proceed with their work in silence.

C. The union, or brotherhood, was to subsist in one house. Food and raiment were to be distributed by the Superior, and everything was to be held and enjoyed in common. Due consideration was to be observed towards infirmity; but no allowance to be made for pride on account of difference of birth. Concord was indispensable; and in attending divine service at the appointed hours, they were to observe the strictest punctuality. They were not to make use of the church for any other service than that to which it was consecrated, unless when, out of the proper hours, they found leisure and inclination for private prayer. While chanting the psalmody, they were to revolve and write the sentiment in their hearts. Nothing was to be sung but what was duly appointed. They were bound to mortify the flesh by frequent abstinence and fasting; and those who did not fast, were to take nothing after the usual time of dining, unless when sick. The scriptures were to be read during meals in the Refectory . To the sick a better kind of food was allowed; but not to make the others discontented. Brothers of delicate habit, or infirm health, were to have diet and clothes suitable to their condition; and such indulgence was not to excite envy or disgust in others. The sick were to be treated with all the care which their cases required; and as soon as they recovered their wonted health, they were to return to the fixed rule and habit of the house.