Part 35

It is pleasing to add that, when the fortunes of Richmond had placed him on the throne, the generous conduct of the worthy mayor of Tenby was not forgotten. The royal favour was expressed by giving him a life-grant of the King’s lands in and around Tenby, with all the privileges thereto belonging; and thus making him, in his own person and experience, a pleasing exception to the proverbial ingratitude of princes.

The town was formerly--and so long as fortifications were indispensable--a place of great strength. But of the massive walls and gates, by which it was attached to the Castle as a citadel, the remains present no features of paramount interest, except, perhaps, to the plodding antiquary, whose eyes penetrate far below the surface, and trace bastions and circumvallations where ordinary men see nothing but the weeds that cover them.

The Church is a capacious edifice--not remarkable for its architecture, but with a lofty spire which, like most others on the coast, serves as an imposing landmark. Churches, dedicated to St. Nicholas, were generally planted on some commanding eminence overlooking the sea; so that a glimpse of the sacred landmark might inspire the bewildered mariner with fresh courage to renew the struggle, or new light to direct his course, when overtaken by storms or darkness.

The interior of the Church is enriched with an elaborately-carved ceiling, and various sepulchral antiquities--some of which are curious and interesting. But that to which the stranger will probably turn with a partial eye, is the tomb of the worthy Mayor already named, containing the effigies of John and Thomas White in the quaint costume of their time, which it was the great merit of “old mortality” sculptors to imitate, in strict subserviency to the tailor and embroiderer. Here also--as in several other churches elsewhere--is the effigy of a human figure in the last stage of emaciation; supposed to be that of a Bishop of St. David’s, when bishops were known to fast as well as to pray. Perhaps of him who, in the great dearth--mentioned in a former page of this work--is said to have died of famine--a very improbable conjecture; for these exhibitions of frail mortality were only intended as monitors to the living, and to remind the thoughtless and idle spectators that to “this they must expect to come at last.” On a flat tombstone in the floor is an inscription which suggests revolting ideas of the barbarous practices that once disgraced the “inhospitable” shores of our own land. The words are, “Walter Vaughan, iv. Jan. 1637;” the name, as it is conjectured, of the once notorious “wrecker of Dunraven:” a miscreant who, by hanging out false lights in tempestuous weather, allured unhappy merchantmen, and other vessels, to the rocks; and when the sea had broken over them, and the crews were struggling in the arms of despair, descended with his fellow-ruffians to the double exercise of murder and plunder. Having amassed capital in this manner, he is supposed to have selected this coast as an “elegant retirement,” where he could enjoy the pleasures of society, without betraying the secret of his trade, and take his place at last among those worthies who have enriched the hallowed pile with their dust. We would gladly indulge the hope that this story, though repeated as a fact, is to be regarded only in the light of a fable; although every reader is aware that the wreckers of Cornwall were not imaginary beings.

The Carmelites , whose rule was founded upon that of St. Basil, had a house here, founded by John de Swynmore, of which the convent, or college, dedicated to St. Mary , stood near the parish church. But the ancient features of the town are fast passing away, and in a few years hence--if the march of improvement continue to advance at the same rate--many of the antiquities of Tenby will have become rather objects of faith than of sight.

Of the Castle , the only portions now standing that indicate its former strength are a bastion and a square tower. The rest of the structure exhibits rather the air of a splendid mansion than of a military fortress. On the north are the ruins of a large hall, about a hundred feet in length by twenty in breadth--not the usual proportions; and near the grand entrance gate is another apartment, eighty feet long by thirty feet wide. Attached to these two apartments are several others of smaller dimensions--used probably as offices, or barracks for the garrison. The situation of this fortress was admirably adapted for defence. It occupied the extreme point of the promontory; and on every side--except that facing the town, which was strengthened by art--it was secured by inaccessible rocks. The original founder of this stronghold is supposed to have been one or other of those Anglo-Norman lords who, in the manner already described, rendered themselves masters of the country. In their wars with the native princes, this Castle became a frequent object of attack; and in the year 1151, it was taken by Meredydd and Rhys, sons of Gruffyd-ap-Rhys, who put the garrison to the sword, in revenge for the shelter they had given to certain persons charged with having attacked and wounded their brother Cadell, while engaged in a hunting excursion in the neighbourhood. Again, in 1186, it was invested by Maelgwn, son of Rhys-ap-Gruffyd, who, by bringing an overwhelming force against it, took the fortress, and demolished the works. But the history of this stronghold, like that of most others built and garrisoned for the same purpose, is nothing more than a catalogue of disasters, of siege and storm, capture and surrender; where spectacles of blood were followed by scenes of barbaric splendour, and he who conquered to-day was often to-morrow’s captive.

Corporation. --Tenby was incorporated about the time of Edward the Third, by charters granted by the Earls of Pembroke, the provisions of which were afterwards confirmed and extended by Richard the Third and his successors. Previous to 1835, the government was vested in a mayor, common council, and an indefinite number of burgesses--the mayor and common council being the governing body; and the style of the Corporation--“The Mayor, Bailiffs, and Burgesses of the Borough of Tenby.”

Besides the ecclesiastical buildings already noticed, there are the Town Hall, the Assembly Rooms, a Theatre, spacious baths, and various minor edifices. All these combine to give an air of taste, comfort, and prosperity to the borough; and present to the mind’s eye a pleasing contrast to the crumbling monuments of feudal vassalage, that for centuries held this flourishing little town in its iron grasp. The harbour consists of two piers, which shoot into a corner of the bay, and nearly encircle a small but safe spot for the anchorage of vessels. The woollen trade, first introduced by the Flemish settlers, has been long superseded. The imports are chiefly articles of domestic consumption; and the exports consist of butter, corn, coal, and culm. During the fishing season, Tenby is a station for the vessels belonging to Plymouth and Broxham; and the oyster-beds constitute a source of considerable profit to the fishermen. The prosperity of the place, however, depends more upon its attractions as a watering-place, than upon any advantage it possesses as a seaport; and in this respect, as already observed, it takes unquestioned precedence over the majority of those fashionable resorts which have so long flourished under the smile of popular favour.

Flemings. --The cause which immediately led to the Flemish settlement on this coast is as follows:--An inundation[391] of great magnitude happening in the Low Countries soon after the Conquest, a vast number of Flemings, driven from their homes, betook themselves to their ships, and landing in England implored an asylum. An increase of industrious peaceable subjects was an object not to be overlooked by the Conqueror. They were accordingly received with alacrity, and treated with cordial hospitality. After a time these strangers were distributed over the country, and wherever they settled contributed to the prosperity of the district. “Many Flemings,” says Malmesbury, “came over to England on account of relationship to the mother of Henry the First, by her father’s side; insomuch that--like the Germans of the present day--they were burthensome to the kingdom.” “Farther,” says the old historian, “William Rufus had generally ill fortune against the Welsh, which one may well wonder at, seeing that all his attempts elsewhere were crowned with success. But I am of opinion that the unevenness of their country, and the severity of the weather, favoured their rebellion; so it hindered their progress. But King Henry found out an act to frustrate all their inventions, by planting Flemings in their country to curb and continually harass them. King Henry often endeavoured to reduce the Welsh, who were always prone to rebellion. At last, very advisedly, in order to abate their pride, he transplanted thither all the Flemings that lived in England. Wherefore, because their numbers created uneasiness, and were burthensome to the kingdom, he thrust them all into Ros , a province of Wales, as unto a common shore, as well to rid the kingdom of them, as to curb the obstinacy of his enemies.”

To the multitude of Flemings thus disposed of, Henry the Second added, by banishing out of England all the Flemish soldiers who had taken service under King Stephen, and granting them permission to join their compatriots in Pembrokeshire. But although historians in general confine the influx of Flemish settlers to the lower part of Pembrokeshire, it is certain that they extended over a much wider district, namely, the whole sea-coast bounding the counties of Pembroke, Carmarthen, Cardigan, and Glamorgan. Of the Flemish colony who settled in Cardiganshire, there are unequivocal proofs in our own times; for their posterity, who continue to inhabit the tract assigned to their ancestors, differ materially from the aboriginal Welsh, not only in the peculiarities of speech, but in those physical distinctions which mark the different races of mankind. “There is a farm called Nant-y-Flyman,” says Mr. Thomas,[392] “in the parish of Verwick, two miles north of Cardigan, which is said to derive its name from the landing of this colony at Traeth-y-Mwnt, a small creek hard by. The reception they met with on disembarking, was from the swords of armed natives; and in the carnage that ensued, fell many of the best and bravest on both sides. In commemoration of this disastrous rencounter, several heaps of sand adjoining Mount Church point out to this day the cromlechs of the slain, and are traditionally called “the graves of the Flemings--Beddau’r Fflemings--where bones of gigantic size often make their appearance.”

In the Welsh Chronicle, we read that the Normans and Flemings inhabited the county of Carmarthen, about Llanstephan--the castle of which we shall presently notice; and under the conduct of Girald and William de Hay invested the said castle. That they extended likewise coastwise to Glamorganshire, is evident from the Gower Whittle--a provincial article of dress peculiar to the Flemings, and from them adopted by the Welsh in general. The south-west portion of Gower, according to Mr. Collins, is inhabited by the descendants of a colony of Flemings, who do not talk the Welsh language, and are distinguished by their own peculiar dress. They seldom intermarry with their neighbours on the north-west side of the Gower. Mr. Pye supposes that the Flemings in Wales still speak the language of Flanders; and relates that a servant, inquiring the road, “could not understand the language of some cottagers, nor make them to understand him, though a Welshman; and he was certain they did not speak Welsh. After much altercation, and inquiry at an alehouse, all ineffectually, a clergyman solves their doubts by relating that some Flemish families had settled in that part of South Wales, and have retained their language to this day.” Here, however, Mr. Pye must have been misinformed; for they all speak--that is, the lower class--a horrid provincial dialect of the English language, though not much worse than certain counties of England, retaining many Saxon words now obsolete, and unintelligible to any but an antiquary. Camden says, “They speak a language so agreeable with the English (which indeed has much affinity with the Dutch), that this small country of theirs is called by the Britons--‘Little England below Wales.’” “But here Mr. Pye is to be regarded as a novelist,” says Thomas;[393] “for his account is not historically true.”

The policy of King Henry in settling these Flemings in Wales, for the purposes of conquest, security, and strength, was very judicious. Being a very warlike people--Belgæ--inevitably attached to their benefactors the English kings, they were always ready to join their standard, or to make a diversion in their favour against the Welsh. But such frontier military posts as surrounded the Welsh--such a cordon of warlike foreigners settled on their coasts--became a source of much evil to the natives; and altogether inadequate for the purpose which their introduction was intended to serve; namely, “to secure the fidelity of the Welsh nation”--whom, on the contrary, their harsh usage and oppression only contributed to alienate from the English crown, until their antipathy and resentment found vent in the open insurrection of Owen Glendower.

The colony is thus described by Giraldus:--“Gens hæc fortis et robusta; continuoque belli conflictu gens Cambrensibus inimicissima, gens lanificiis, gens mercimoniis usitatissima, quocumque labore sive periculo, terra marique lucrum quærere. Gens prævalida vicissim loco et tempore, nunc ad arma, nunc ad aratra gens promptissima.”

MANORBEER CASTLE,

Pembrokeshire .

Manober turribus et propugnaculis erat eximium, ab occidente portum extensum a Circio et Barea, sub ipsis muralibus vivarium habens egregium tam sua venustate, quam aquarum profunditate conspicuum.”--_Gyrald._

MANORBEER , another of those feudal strongholds with which the Principality abounds, possesses an additional interest as the birth-place of Giraldus Cambrensis, a sketch of whose life will be found in these pages.

The Castle, says Leland, “stands between two little hillettes”--the rocky bases of which repel the fury of a boisterous sea--and is very imposing as we come upon it, through an antiquated village of Flemish-looking houses, with singular chimneys--old as the Castle itself. It is called Manorbeer, or Maenor Byrr, from its being the manor of the Lords, or the mansion or manor of Byrr. It occupies the crest of a hill, which commands an extensive prospect of land and sea--the latter expanding its waves, until they are enclosed by the distant promontory of St. Gowan’s Head, and presenting at times a scene of great animation by the numerous vessels that glide along the coast. With its sheltered green park on one hand, a bare hill, with the slender tower of the old Norman church, on the other, and the whole mass as if suspended over the sea-beach that takes its angle and curve from the protruding rocks, the scene presents a combination of features that never fail to impress the stranger with mingled sentiments of picturesque beauty, solitude, and desolation.

The Castle of Manorbeer is a capacious Norman edifice of the first class, with massive towers, ponderous and lofty gates, high embattled walls with loopholes, but no windows in the exterior. It presents the characteristic features of a stronghold, whose chief, at once hated and feared, retained possession of his conquered manor by no better security than that of armed retainers--vassals and mercenaries, whose rights and sense of justice were measured by their swords.

The Gateway forms a grand and imposing feature; and through this, the principal entrance, we reach the interior Court, upon which the windows of the quadrangle open, and discover the apartments once occupied by the Baron and his family--who were thus barred in from the fair face of nature, and condemned to consider security and seclusion ample compensation for the sacrifice of other advantages. Here the justice was retributive; for he who plotted against the rights and liberties of his fellow-creatures, was little better than a prisoner in his own Castle; and, even among his sworn retainers, had often cause to suspect an assassin, and to be the reluctant slave of those fears which no doubling of his “tried sentinels” could exclude.

The Outworks of the Castle are extensive, and worthy appendages to what is considered “a perfect model of a Norman Baron’s residence,” the general characteristics of which were the following:--The simple rude tower of the Anglo-Saxon was enlarged and improved into what, taking its name from the builder, was called a Gundulph Keep, the entrance to which was at a great height. It was approached by a grand staircase, which went partly round two of the outside fronts of the Castle, and ended in a grand portal, before which was a drawbridge. The entrance was indispensably gradual. The first step in advance was the drawbridge, with a gate about the middle of the staircase, to arrive at the portal. Secondly, upon arriving at this point, you found it merely the entrance to a small annexed tower, the whole of which might be demolished without injury to the body of the Castle. This tower was for the use of the guard or sentinel. Within this tower was a sort of vestibule, and from thence was a second entrance--the real entrance to the Keep--through a second portal, placed in the thickness of the walls. Both the first and second portals were defended by a portcullis and double gates; so that there were three strong gates to be forced, and two portcullises to be destroyed, before even this entrance could be gained. In the thickness of the wall were two niches, in addition to the second portal, for wardours or sentinels. Besides this, there was the sally-port, another small entrance--ascended only by a movable ladder--which had no communication with the floor above, except by a “small winding staircase, that, from its narrowness and form, could easily be defended by one man, and to which additional security was provided by strong doors. On the

Ground floor --as already observed in this Castle--there were no windows, very few loopholes, and those so constructed that no missile thrown in could reach farther than the bottom of the arch. In the first floor there were no windows, but only loopholes within the tower itself. In the second floor the windows were so high that no weapon discharged into them could take effect, as it struck the arch of the window, and dropped harmless on the floor. On the side near the principal entrance there were no windows nor lights whatever--not even loopholes on the same side as the entrance and top of the staircase, because, if so placed, they would have been exposed to an enemy who, having once gained the steps, was attempting to force the portal. In

The Vestibule were large windows, because--as the author of the “Monumenta” supposes--that place was of no importance in a siege: but this opinion is considered by others to be untenable. A full command of view was here indispensable; and that this was the object may be inferred from the loopholes and windows being in an inverted order to what they are in the great one, and from the vestibule being immediately over the dungeon, so that, on any attempt at attack, escape or rescue would be detected. On the

Third story , which contained the state apartments, there was a gallery within the walls for the conveyance of orders. Mr. King, in his description of fortified buildings, has noticed a stone arch and false portals, a round angular tower, and an _affected_ appearance of weakness in the small square tower and vestibule, as deceptions to mislead the enemy. But this, as observed by Fosbroke, is questionable; for such expedients do not occur in all castles of this era--and, had they been usual, must have been too well known to mislead the enemy. The lower apartments of these strongholds were reserved as storerooms for the use of the household and retainers.

The Dungeon , for the security of prisoners, was beneath the ground floor of the Keep, with which it communicated by a steep, dark, and narrow staircase. It had, of course, no windows nor loopholes; and the only aperture for the admission of air was a trap-door in the vestibule. A gutter carried off water from the floor, which, for this purpose, was made sloping towards it.

In the centre of the main walls were square wells, opening at bottom into arches, for the removal and distribution of stores to the upper apartments; and through the solid walls, also, flues were perforated for the conveyance of information by the voice. And these contrivances, with considerable improvements, continue in our own times to facilitate domestic intercourse in large establishments. In the centre of the partition wall--as seen at Rochester[394]--was a well for water--like the shaft of a coal pit--going from the bottom of the tower up to the very leads; and over every successive floor were small arches in the wall, forming a communication between the pipe of the well and the several apartments, so that, by means of a pulley, water could be distributed to every part of the Castle. The fireplaces in general were semicircular arches--as already shown and described in this work. The chimneys were in the form of a sloping cone, and terminated in loopholes. In some instances, as at Chepstow, they were covered internally with a hard glazing of cement, so as to prevent the accumulation and lodgment, and facilitate the removal, of fuliginous matter on the surface. The great chimney of Raglan Castle is a fine specimen of its kind, and so capacious as to appear like the perpendicular shaft of a deep well. The sinks are similar cones, but ending sideways, obliquely, to prevent the introduction of weapons. The great state apartments of the Castle consisted of three rooms: of these, the two principal ones were separated only by large arches, open at the top, so that there might be a free circulation of air; but under the arch was a partition wall, in later times of oak-panelling, for hanging the arras.

Such are a few of the characteristic features of a Norman fortress of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries--the model upon which the great castles of Wales were constructed by Edward the First--of which various particulars have been already given, and others will be found interspersed in subsequent portions of this work.

While wandering over the ruins of these dilapidated strongholds, of whose founders it may here be truly said--_stat nominis umbra_, we are humbled into a sense of the vain and fragile tenor by which all earthly possessions are held. “There the thistle shakes its lonely head; the moss whistles to the winds; the fox looks out from the windows, the rank grass of the wall waves round his head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina; silence is in the house of her fathers.”

“Thrice happier he who tends his sheep Where yonder lowly cot appears; Than Baron in his iron Keep, Encircled by his glittering spears.”