ABBEY OF GRACE-DIEU—SIR DAVID GAM—WHITE CASTLE—ABERGAVENNY HILLS—THE TOWN, CASTLE, AND CHURCH.
Within a short distance southward of the road from Monmouth to Abergavenny, and about three miles from the first-mentioned town, are the small remains of the abbey ofGrace-dieu, chiefly formed into a barn, situated on a sequestered bank of the Trothy. A farm on the opposite side of the river was the park belonging to the abbey; and hence it is called Parc-gras-dieu farm; the house of which is built on the ruins of the ancient lodge.
Llandilo Cresseney, the seat of Richard Lewis, Esq.; pleasingly situated in a rich undulating country to the south of the road, about half way to Abergavenny, is a modernhouse built on the site of an ancient mansion of the Powells. The position commands an interesting prospect of the neighbouring country; and in the home view the church of Llandilo, with its high spire, forms a picturesque and leading object. In an adjoining field, belonging to a farm that was formerly the red-deer park of Raglan castle, is the site of Old Court, once the residence of the celebrated Sir David Gam, not less known for his courageous report upon having reconnoitred the enemy before the battle of Agincourt (“An’t please you, my liege, there are enough to be kilted, enough to run away, and enough to be taken prisoners”) than for his valorous achievements and preservation of the king’s life in the encounter, though at the expence of his own. The dukes of Beaufort and the earls of Pembroke are descended from Gladys, one of his numerous progeny, which tradition has by no means curtailed; for it is asserted, that his children formed a line reaching from his house to the church.
The ruins ofWhite Castleare very considerable, crowning the summit of a ridgy eminence a mile and a half to the north ofLlandilo. Their figure is irregular; flanked by six circular towers, which, with the ramparts, are pierced with oilets. Two advancing massive towers guard the entrance, which was provided with a portcullis and drawbridge, and rendered still more formidable by an uncommonly large outwork beyond the moat, which is remarkably deep. This ruin is from every point of view imposing and grand; but its ponderous unornamented towers, and its lofty battlements, whose dark colour is rendered still more dismal by the broad shadows of impendent foliage, rather conspire to raise an image of baronical haughtiness and oppression, than of its show and hospitality; yet, in the time of Elizabeth, Churchyard describes it to be
“A statelie seate, a loftie princelie place,Whose beautie gives the simple soyle some grace.”
“A statelie seate, a loftie princelie place,Whose beautie gives the simple soyle some grace.”
From the architecture of this castle I should suppose its antiquity to be at least coeval with the first settlement of the Normans in Gwent, if not even more remote. Its history is common with that of Screnfrith and Grosmont; but over both these it holds a decided superiority in extent, and massiveness of construction.
On approachingAbergavenny, the tourist’s attention is involuntarily arrested by the singular beauty and variety of interest which the spot embraces, particularly in its encircling hills. The road skirting the Little Skyridd, a well-formed hill richly laid out in wood and pasture, opens to a fine display of the vale of Usk beneath; on the opposite side of which the continuous ridge of the wild Pontypool hills, which form the western boundary of the county, terminate in the heathy high-swelling Blorenge: a tract of wood sweeps along its base, and mixes with the sylvan knoll of Lanfoist, decorating its northern extremity. Further to the right, the elegant smooth cone of the Sugar-loaf, the highest of the Monmouthshire mountains, presents itself, issuing from among the four tributary eminences of the Pen-y-vale hills. Eastward of this mountain is the Great Skyridd, an object of considerable interest; its bipartite and truly Alpine summit, without being a forced opposition, strikingly contrasts the general undulating line of the neighbouring hills, and rears a distinct and noble character on the scene. The views from this mountain are scarcely inferior tothose from the Sugar-loaf; while its craggy form, its asperitous summit, jagged into an immense fissure, and shelving to a ridge apex of fearful narrowness, impress a mixed emotion of awe and admiration on the adventurous climber of the height, that more than compensates for a small inferiority of altitude. There was formerly, at the top of this mountain, a Roman Catholic chapel dedicated to St. Michael, of which no vestiges remain; but a remembrance of the site is preserved in a hollow place formed by the superstitious, who, resorting here on Michaelmas eve, carry away the earth to strew over the sepulchres of their friends. According to the barometrical measurement of General Roy, the height of the Sugar-loaf mountain is 1852 feet perpendicular above the Gavenny rivulet, near its junction with the Usk. The Blorenge is 1720, and the Great Skyridd 1498 feet from the same level.
The expansive bases of these mountains, nearly approximating, descend to a finely-wooded fertile valley; through which the river Usk, rushing from a majestic portal of wood, winds in a bright translucid stream, with all the impetuosity of its mountaincharacter. At the foot of one of the confederated hills sustaining the towering cone of the Sugar-loaf, which gently inclines to the river,Abergavennyis situated; a straggling irregular town, pleasingly interspersed with trees, but deriving its highest attraction from the charms of its position.
Upon an eminence above the river, near the southern extremity of the town, is the ruined castle, which in its present state exhibits very few memorials of former magnificence. The gate-house, or principal entrance, is tolerably entire, and vestiges of two courts may be traced among the broken walls; but of the citadel no traces remain, although an intrenched mound close to the ruins evidently marks its site. The town was also fortified, and many portions of the work remain, particularly Tudor’s gate, the western entrance, furnished with two portcullisses, and remarkable for the beautifully composed landscape seen through it. This castle is said to have been built by a giant named Agros: without contending for the accuracy of this tradition, however, it is certain, that the principal part was erectedby the Normans upon the site of a British fortress.
In the twelfth century some native forces, headed by Sitfylt ap Dyfnwald, a Welch prince, assailed this castle, and took prisoners the Anglo-Norman garrison, with their chief, William-de-Braose, lord of Brecon. William being, upon an adjustment of differences, reinstated in his possessions, invited Sitfylt, his son Geoffery, and other chieftains of Gwent, to a great feast at Abergavenny Castle, where they were all treacherously murdered: he then surprised Sitfylt’s house, and slew his other son, Cadwallader, in the presence of his mother. This barbarity did not escape punishment. William, flying his country, died a wretched wanderer at Paris; and his wife and son were famished in Windsor Castle. The fate of his grandson, Reginald, may also be considered in the light of a retribution: Llewelyn prince of Wales, suspecting him, as Dugdale relates, “of over much familiarity with his wife,” subtilly invited him to an eastern feast; and towards the close of the banquet, charging him with the act, threw him into prison, where he suffereda violent death, together with the adultress. In 1273, we find the country of Overwent, including the castle of Abergavenny, in the possession of John de Hastings, a very pink of chivalry. A succession of valorous knights inherited this domain; but Richard Earl of Warwick, who became lord of Abergavenny in the commencement of the fifteenth century, surpassed them all, and even John himself, in military fame, and manners debonnair: he signalized himself in tournaments at most of the courts in Europe, and obtained the honourable appellation of “the father of courtesy.”
The church is a large Gothic structure, and appears to have been built in the form of a Roman cross, but is now curtailed of its transepts; at the juncture of one of them, a circular arch, now filled up, wears a Norman character, and seems to have been part of the original building. Three arches, curiously dissimilar, separate the north aile from the nave. The choir remains in its antique state, with stalls for a prior and his monks, formed of oak, and rudely carved; and the ailes on either side are furnishedwith the monuments of several illustrious personages.
On the north of the choir is the figure of a man in a coat of mail, with a bull at his feet; supposed to be the monument of Sir Edward Nevill, which is thus explained by Churchyard:
“His force was much; for he by strengthWith bull did struggle so,He broke clean off his horns at length,And therewith let him go.”
“His force was much; for he by strengthWith bull did struggle so,He broke clean off his horns at length,And therewith let him go.”
On the opposite side is the recumbent effigy of an armed knight, his legs across,[308]and his feet resting on a greyhound. Of this the sexton’s legend relates, that the knight, returning home, saw his infant son lying on the floor covered with blood, with his cradle overturned at his side, and the hound standing by, with his mouth besmeared with gore. Conceiving that the dog had attacked the child, he instantly killed it; but soon discovered, that the blood issued from a large serpentthat had writhed about the child, and which this faithful animal had destroyed.
In the middle of the south aile of the choir, generally called the Herberts’ chapel, is the effigy of Sir William ap Thomas, and his wife Gladys, daughter of the celebrated Sir David Gam. Beneath a handsome alabaster monument, at the further end of the chapel, repose the ashes of Sir Richard Herbert, of Coldbrook, and his wife. This Sir Richard, a younger son of the just mentioned Sir William ap Thomas, was a man of gigantic stature and uncommon strength. In the contest between the houses of York and Lancaster, he with his brother the Earl of Pembroke supported the White rose at the battle of Banbury, where he was at length taken prisoner, and finally executed by the successful faction; but not until he had passed and repassed twice through the adverse army, killing with a pole-ax no less than 140 men; which, his illustrious descendant and biographer, lord Herbert of Cherbury, remarks, is more than is famed of Amadis de Gaul, or the Knight of the Sun. The richest monument in the church is that of Sir Richard Herbert of Ewias, his nephew,which occupies a recess in the south wall of the chapel.
Before the dissolution of religious houses, this church belonged to a priory of Benedictine monks, which was founded by Hamelin Baladun,[310]who is also said to have built the castle. The priory house, adjoining the nave of the church, is converted into a commodious dwelling, which was lately tenanted by the Gunter and Milborne family. The free-school in the town was founded by Henry the Eighth, and amply endowed with the revenues of forfeited monasteries, &c.
Abergavenny was a Roman town, the Gobannium of Antoninus. Leland describes it to be “a faire waulled town, meately well inhabited;” and an account of Monmouthshire written in 1602 represents it as “a fine town, wealthy and thriving, and the verybest in the shire.” But during the last century it was in a very declining state until the establishment of some great iron-works, which have lately sprung up in the adjacent mountains. When full-bottomed flaxen wigs were the rage, the town enjoyed a temporary prosperity from a method peculiar to its inhabitants of bleaching hair; but, perriwigs being no longer the rage, the place was hastening to decay: just at this juncture the faculty proclaimed that goats-whey was a specific in consumptive cases; and crowds of invalids, under the fiat of death, immediately enlivened the town. But the fashions of doctors are no more stationary than those of beaux; thetonfor goats-whey soon diminished; and, deprived of patients as well as perriwigs, the place was relapsing into poverty and desertion, when the fortunate discovery of the Blaenavon iron mines, (a grand concern in the recesses of the Blorenge mountain well worth the tourist’s attention) gave a new face to the town, and still daily encreases its population.
WERNDEE—FAMILY PRIDE—LANTHONY ABBEY—OLD CASTLE.
About two miles from Abergavenny isWerndee, a poor patched-up house: though once a mansion of no less magnificence than antiquity, it is now only interesting as being considered to have been the spot where the prolific Herbert race was first implanted in Britain. Henry de Herbert, chamberlain to king Henry the First, is supposed to have been their great ancestor. Of the vast possessions that formerly supported the grandeur of the Herberts, the inheritance of Mr. Proger, the last lineal descendant from the elder branch of this family, who died about twenty years since, had dwindled to less than two hundred a year. Mr. Coxe relates an anecdote of this gentleman’s pride of ancestry,which may be compared with the remarks on Perthir;[313]at the same time, it conveys a brief outline of the family’s genealogy.
Mr. Proger accidentally met a stranger near his house, who made various enquiries respecting the prospects and local objects of the situation; and at length demanded, “Pray, whose is this antique mansion before us?”—“That, Sir, is Werndee: a very ancient house; foroutof itcamethe earls of Pembroke of the first line, and the earls of Pembroke the second line; the lords Herbert of Cherbury, the Herberts of Coldbrook, Rumney, Cardiff, and York; the Morgans of Acton; the earl of Hunsdon; the Jones’s of Treowen and Lanarth, and all the Powells.Outof this house also, by the female line,camethe dukes of Beaufort.”—“And pray, Sir, who lives there now?”—“I do, Sir.”—“Then pardon me, Sir—do not lose sight of all these prudent examples; butcome outof it yourself; or ’twill tumble and crush you.”
A principal excursion from Abergavenny is that which leads northward to Lanthonyabbey, a majestic ruin seated in a deep recess of the Black mountains, at the very extremity of the county. The first part of the route lies through a romantic pass between the Skyridd and Sugar-loaf mountains, upon the Hereford turnpike. Proceeding about two miles, the church of Landeilo Bertholly appears on the right; and not far from it an antique mansion called the White-house, a residence of the Floyers. Another ancient house occurs at the village of Llanvihangel Crickhornell, seen through groves of firs, lately a seat of the Arnolds, but now occupied as a farm-house. From this spot a ditch-like road, almost impracticable for carriages, strikes off among the mountains,
“Through tangled forests, and through dang’rous ways,”
“Through tangled forests, and through dang’rous ways,”
carried upon precipices impendent over the brawling torrent of the Hondy. Sometimes the road opens to scenes of the most romantic description, where, at an immense depth beneath, the torrent is seen raging in a bed of rocks, and mountains of the most imposing aspect rise from the valley,—
“The nodding horrors of whose shady browsThreat the forlorn and wand’ring traveller.”
“The nodding horrors of whose shady browsThreat the forlorn and wand’ring traveller.”
Immediately to the left of the road rises the Gaer, a huge rocky hill crowned with an ancient encampment. On the opposite side of the river, fearfully hanging on a steep cliff, and beneath a menacing hill bristled with innumerable craigs, is the romantic village ofCwmjoy. Landscapes of the boldest composition would be continual, but that the road, formed into a deep hollow, and overtopped by hedge-row elms, excludes the traveller from almost every view but that of his embowered track. The pedestrian, however, is at liberty, while ranging among heaths and fields above the road, to enjoy the wild grandeur of the country, which will hardly fail to repay him for his additional toil.
In the deep gloomy vale of Ewias, encircled by the barren summits of the Black mountains, but enjoying some degree of local cultivation, and enlivened by the crystalline Hondy, is situated the ruin ofLanthony Abbey.
Lanthony Abbey
Venerable and grand, but wholly devoid of ornament, it partakes of the character of the surrounding scenery. Not a single tendril of ivy decorates the massive walls of the structure, and but a sprinkling of shrubs andlight branchy trees fringe the high parapets, or shade the broken fragments beneath.
“Where rev’rend shrines in Gothic grandeur stood,The nettle or the noxious night-shade spreads;And ashlings, wafted from the neighbouring wood,Through the worn turrets wave their trembling heads.”
“Where rev’rend shrines in Gothic grandeur stood,The nettle or the noxious night-shade spreads;And ashlings, wafted from the neighbouring wood,Through the worn turrets wave their trembling heads.”
The area of the church is not very extensive; the length is 212 feet; the breadth 50; and it measures 100 across the transepts. The roof has long since fallen in, and a great part of the south wall is now a prostrate ruin; but the view afforded of the interior, in consequence, is extremely grand and picturesque. A double row of pointed arches, reposing on massive piers, separate the side ailes from the nave; above which, divided from the Gothic form by a strait band of fascia, is a series of small circular arches: an intermixture and arrangement of the two forms that characterize the earliest use of Gothic architecture. Two lofty arches, rising from the middle of the church, still sustain a massive portion of the tower, whose doubtfully poised and ponderous bulk seriously menaces the adventurous explorer of the ruin. The grandeur of the western front cannot be passed unnoticed; nor, looking over the fragments of the choir, the fine viewof the inside ruin, seen through the great eastern arch of the tower; neither is a small chapel adjoining the south transept, with a well-formed engrained roof, to be neglected: the transept is remarkable for a large Norman archway that led into the south aile of the choir.
Many portions of building appear in detached heaps near the abbey church, particularly a bold arch in a neighbouring barn, which seems to have formed the principal entrance to the abbey. Among these the natives point out a low subterraneous passage, faced with hewn stone, which they suppose to have had a connexion with Old Castle, about three miles distant.
St. David, the uncle of king Arthur (say ancient legends), was so struck with this sequestered recess, then almost unconscious of a human footstep, that he built a chapel on the spot, and passed many years in it as a hermit. William, a retainer of the earl of Hereford’s in the reign of William Rufus, being led into the valley in pursuit of a deer, espied the hermitage. The deep solitude of the place, and the mysterious appearance of the building, conspired to fill him with religious-enthusiasm; and he instantly disclaimedall worldly enjoyments for a life of prayer and mortification.
In a curious account of the abbey, written by one of its monks, which is preserved in Dugdale’s Monasticon, and translated into English by Atkyns, in his History of Gloucestershire, it is recorded, that “He laid aside his belt and girded himself with a rope; instead of fine linen, he covered himself with hair-cloth; and instead of his soldier’s robe, he loaded himself with weighty irons. The suit of armour, which before defended him from the darts of his enemies, he still wore as a garment to harden him against the soft temptations of his old enemy Satan; that, as the outward man was afflicted by austerity, the inner-man might be secured for the service of God. That his zeal might not cool, he thus crucified himself, and continued this hard armour on his body until it was worn out with rust and age.”
His austerity of life, and sanctity, not only drew to him a colleague (Ernesi, chaplain to Maud wife of Henry the First), but excited the reverence of many high characters, andinduced Hugh de Laci, earl of Hereford, to found a priory of regular canons of the order of St. Austin on the site of the Hermitage. The institution adopted William’s mortifying system, and its reputation occasioned numerous donations to be offered; but they were constantly refused, and the acquisition of wealth deprecated as a dreadful misfortune. William was determined “to dwell poor in the house of God.” The monk of Lanthony comically relates, that “Queen Maud, not sufficiently acquainted with the sanctity and disinterestedness of William, once desired permission to put her hand into his bosom; and when he with great modesty submitted to her importunity, she conveyed a large purse of gold between his coarse shirt and iron boddice; and thus by a pleasant and innocent subtlety administered some comfortable relief to him. But oh the wonderful contempt of the world! He displayed a rare example, that the truest happiness consists in possessing little or nothing! He complied, indeed, but unwillingly, and only with a view that the queen might employ her devout liberality in adorning the church.” His scruples thus overcome,a new church on a more magnificent plan was erected (that which now appears); it soon displayed the usual pomp of the craft, and in less than thirty years the monks came to one opinion, that “the outward man” deserved consideration; that the “place was unfit for a reasonable creature, much less for religious persons:” nay some said, that “they wished every stone of the foundation, “a stout hare;” others, still more wicked, “that every stone was at the bottom of the sea.” Hence, in the year 1136, we find a new Lanthony abbey built and consecrated near Gloucester, which, although at first only a cell to our abbey, soon assumed a priority over the parent foundation. The treasures, library, rich vestments, and even bells, were removed to the new house: the old Lanthony then came to be considered as a prison by the fat monks of the Severn, who sent thither only “their old and useless members.”
In doleful mood the monk complains, “We are made the scum and outcast of the brethren.”—“They permitted the monastery to be reduced to such poverty, that the friars were without surplices, andcompelled to perform the duties of the church against the customs and rules of the order. Sometimes they had no breeches, and could not attend divine service.” Thus it appears, that eventually the condition of the monks, though sore against their wills, reverted to the intention of their founder. The monastery continued in this unthriving state till the dissolution of those concerns; when, according to Dugdale, the abbey near Gloucester was valued at 648l.19s.11d.and this in Monmouthshire at 71l.3s.2d.
Oldcastle, a little village on the eastern slope of the Black mountains which skirt the vale of Ewias on the right, is supposed by Gale and Stukeley to have been the ancient Blestium, but upon grounds that are very inconclusive: true it is, however, that several encampments near the spot wear a Roman character, and they were in the habit of raising such camps near their station. But the place is more noticed as having been the residence of Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, the companion of Henry the Fifth, and afterwards chief of the Lollards, and martyr to their religious views. His ancient mansion, called the court-house, was takendown about thirty years ago; so that nothing now remains to satisfy the antiquary.
But the picturesque traveller will hardly fail of a lively interest, while, traversing the superior heights of the neighbouring mountains, he views the grand extent of the Monmouthshire wilds, and traces the different combinations of its majestic hills, which in some parts range into the most sinuous forms, in others extend for many miles into direct longitudinal ridges; or, when, withdrawing from the sterile dignity of the high lands, his eye gratefully reposes on the gentle vallies that sweep beneath their brows, enlivened by glistening streams, and rich in all the luxuriance of high cultivation.
RE-ENTRANCE OF SOUTH WALES—CRICKHOWELL—TRETOWER—BRECON CASTLE AND PRIORY—ROAD TO LLANDOVERY—TRECASTLE—PASS OF CWM-DUR—LLANDOVERY CASTLE—ROAD FROM BRECON TO HEREFORD—BRUNLYSS CASTLE—FEMALE VENGEANCE—HAY—CLIFFORD CASTLE.
The road from Abergavenny to Brecon, bordering the clear and lively Usk in a romantic valley, soon leaves the charming county of Monmouth; but is attended with such a continuance of agreeable scenery as may diminish in a considerable degree the regret of the tourist. Among the verdant accompaniments of the serpentizing river, the rich groves and smiling lawns of DanyPark are conspicuous, swelling above a fertile vale, and backed by a range of wild mountains. Nearly opposite this, in a field to the right of the road and the fifteen mile-stone from Brecon, is a single upright stone, about fourteen feet high, conjectured to be a monument of the druidical ages.
Crickhowell, about two miles farther, is an old mean-built town; but, hanging on the steep declivities of a fine hill, and dignified with the picturesque ruin of a castle, it is an interesting object in the approach. The extent of this fragment of antiquity (of obscure origin), sometimes called Alashby Castle, is by no means considerable; the foundation of the keep, seated on a high artificial mound, denotes much original strength, and all the standing walls shew a very remote erection; although a few enrichments of later times may be perceived beneath the thickly-woven ivy. A narrow Gothic bridge crosses the Usk here to the pleasing village of Langottoc, the neighbourhood of which is enlivened with several handsome seats; but no one is more remarkable for the excellence of its position and the singularity of its designthan a lately-erected residence of Admiral Gell’s.
The road continues scenic and entertaining to the small village ofTretower, only to be noticed for a few picturesque fragments of its castle, once the residence of Mynarch lord of Brecon. Then winding round a conical eminence, the road ascends a mighty hill called the Bwlch, which term signifies a rent in a mountain: during which ascent, a farewel view of the vale of the Usk, with a small tributary valley, and its appendant stream descending from some gloomy mountains to the north, and joining it near the castle of Tretower, is truly interesting and grand. But from these wide-ranging views, and all external scenery, the tourist becomes shut up on entering the pass of the mountains, a sterile hollow, from which he emerges on a subject of an entirely opposite and very singular description. Surrounded by dark mountains, melancholy and waste, appears an extensive lake calledLangor’s Pool, upwards of six miles in circumference; which, as the natives assure you, is the site of a large city swallowed up by an earthquake, and isso well furnished with perch, tench, and eels, as to be one-third fish to two-thirds water.
In the neighbourhood of the lake north-eastward, and near the head of the Lleveny brook, which empties itself into the pool, I find described the ruins ofBlaen-Lleveny Castle. It was fortified by Peter FitzHerbert, descended of Bernard de Newmarch, lord of Brecon, according to the opinion of some antiquaries, upon the site of the Roman Loventium.
The road soon descends to the fine vale of Brecon, grandly accompanied by a semicircular range of mountains; where, proudly rising in superior majesty, the Van rears its furrowed and bipartite summit high above the clouds. Advancing, cultivation takes a more extensive sweep, and picturesque disposition becomes frequent. The Usk flowing round the foot of the Bwlch, cloathed with the extensive plantations of Buckland-house, salutes the beholder with renewed attractions; and farther up the vale laves the charming woody eminence of Peterstone in its sinuous career.
On the left of the road, about five miles from Brecon, is a stone pillar, six feet inheight, and nearly cylindrical; on which is an inscription that Camden read, N--- FILIUS VICTORINI, but which is now almost obliterated. He supposes it a monument of later ages than the Romans, although inscribed with their characters, and wearing the general appearance of a Romancippus. In the parish of Llahn Hamwalch, standing on the summit of a hill near the church, (which is to the left of the road a little beyond the former monument) I find described St. Iltut’s hermitage, composed of four large flat stones; three of which, standing upright, are surmounted by the fourth, so as to form a sort of hut, eight feet long, four wide, and nearly the same in height. This kind of monument is called a Kist-vaen, a variety of the Cromlech order, and supposed to have been applied to the same purposes.
Breconis delightfully situated upon a gentle swell above the Usk, overlooking a fertile highly-cultivated valley enlivened with numerous seats, and enriched with several sylvan knolls. On one side of the town, beneath the majestic hanging groves of the priory, the impetuous Hondy loudly murmurs,and unites with the Usk a small distance beyond its handsome bridge. Though the town boasts many capital residences, yet, encumbered by a number of mean hovels even in its principal situations, and deficient in regulations of cleanliness, it fails to create any idea of importance. Its once magnificent castle is now curtailed to a very insignificant ruin; and that little is so choaked up with miserable habitations, as to exhibit no token of antique grandeur: some broken walls and a solitary tower compose its remains.
Brecon Castlewas founded by Bernard de Newmarch in the reign of William Rufus. Llewelyn prince of Wales besieged it when asserting the rights of his ancestry and friends, but without success. Passing through the hands of the Braoses and Bohuns, it fell to the king-making Buckingham, when it became the seat of chivalric splendour. To his care Dr. Morton, bishop of Ely, was committed by Richard the Third; and the remaining turret is still called Ely tower by the natives, and described to have been his prison. Buckingham, fired with resentmentby the ingratitude of Richard, whom he had raised to power, contrived, with his prisoner, in this place, the means of his overthrow. The plot succeeded, but the duke was betrayed and taken before its completion, and lost his head: the more wary priest retired in secresy during its operation, and preserved his to wear the metropolitan mitre in the ensuing reign. Bernard also founded a Benedictine priory for six monks westward of the town; it was dedicated to St. John, subordinate to Battle abbey in Sussex, and became collegiate under Henry the Eighth. The church is a grand cruciform building, 200 feet in length by 60 in width, and has an embattled tower 90 feet high rising from the centre of the building. A cloister extends from the church to the priory-house; where the tourist, as he paces the refectory, or great dining-room, may speculate on monkish carousals, where blue-eyed nuns, were jovially toasted, and secret confessions anticipated.
But the most fascinating attraction of the town is its two delightful walks: the one traced on the margin of the noble Usk; the other, called the priory walk, a luxuriantgrove impendent over the brawling Hondy, once assigned to the meditations of monkish fraud, but now more happily applied to the use of the townspeople, and enlivened on fine evenings by a brilliant promenade of Cambrian beauties.
This town, built on the site of a Roman station,[330]was originally called Aber-Hondy. After the departure of the Romans, the lordship of Brecon remained in the hands of the Britons till the reign of William Rufus; when Bernard de Newmarch, a Norman baron of great skill and prowess, having assembled a large body of troops, made a successful inroad into the country, killed the British chief Bledhyn ap Maenyrch, and retailed his son prisoner in Brecon castle during his life; though he, at the same time, allowed him a nominal share of his father’s territories. He then fortified the town with a castle, and an encircling wall, having three gates; and furtherstrengthened his cause by taking to wife Nesta, grand-daughter of Gruffyth prince of Wales.
A road passing from Brecon through Llandovery to Llandilo, in Caermarthenshire, we did not travel; but find it described as highly picturesque, and otherwise interesting. For several miles it traverses an undulating district enlivened by the Usk; which now, approaching its source in the Trecastle hills, assumes all the impetuosity of a mountain torrent. The spacious lawns, long avenues of trees, and extensive plantations of Penbont, grace the bonders of the stream about three miles from Brecon; and on the left of the road, a small distance further, appear the trifling remains of Davenock castle.Trecastle, ten miles from Brecon, a small village but possessing a good inn, is deprived of every vestige of its ancient fortification. From this place the road winds for nine miles to Llandovery, in a deep valley, between the mountains, calledCwm-Dwr, a romantic pass watered by a lively stream, and dotted with numerous cottages, whose fertile hollow is beautifully contrasted by the wild aspect ofthe impendent heights.Llandoveryis a small irregular town, nearly encompassed by rivulets, and only to be noticed by the picturesque traveller for the small ruins of its ivy-mantled castle. The road then continues to Llandilo on a high terrace, ornamented on the right by the groves of Taliaris and Abermarle parks, and overlooking the upper vale of Towey, rich in cultivation and the beauty of its stream.
On the road to Hereford from Brecon, about seven miles, isBrunlyss Castle; the principal and almost only feature of which is a high round tower on an artificial mount. Its foundation is uncertain, but cannot be later than the first settlement of the Normans in the county. There is a curious circumstance connected with an incident in the history of this castle, which I think very probably suggested the character of Faulconbridge in Shakespeare’s play of King John. The acknowledged son and heir of Bernard de Newmarch and his wife Nesta was Mahel, a dauntless, youth, who, after the death of Bernard, having affronted a paramour of his mother’s, and upbraided the matron herself,became in a most extraordinary manner deprived of his inheritance. Nesta, enraged at the interference of her son in her tender arrangements, presented herself before Henry the Second, and solemnly made oath that he was not the son of Bernard lord of Breton; but was begotten by a Cambrian warrior, thereby proclaiming her son a bastard, and satisfying her revenge, though at the expence of every maternal tie and of the strongest sentiments of female worth. Bernard’s estates, in consequence, fell to his daughter Sibyl wife of Milo earl of Hereford; and Mahel, ejected from his patrimony, became a lawless desperado. Once, as he was on a predatory excursion over the domains of David Fitzgerald, bishop of St. David’s, he was entertained by Walter de Clifford in Brunlyss Castle for one night; when the building took fire, and he, in endeavouring to escape, was crushed to death by the falling of a stone.
Hay, a small populous town on this road, at the extremity of the principality, occupies an eminence near the banks of the Wye, and was formerly graced with a fine castle,which is now reduced to a few broken walls; butClifford, a mile or two further, on the upper road to Hereford, still exhibits the majestic remains of its castle, crowning a bold hill which towers above the river, and has been long renowned as having been the birth-place of the lovely, but frail fair Rosamond.
BUALT—PRINCE LLEWELYN—RHAYDERGOWY—CARACTACUS’S CAMP—OFFA’S DYKE—KNIGHTON—PRESTEIGN—OLD AND NEW RADNOR—LLANDRINDOD WELLS.
Proceeding northward from Brecon, the road passes over an abrupt succession of hills and hollows near the impatient Hondy, which is seen to extend for several miles through a wild romantic valley. On leaving the lively rivulet’s devious course, the road traverses an extensive hilly tract, from whose summits a grand expansive valley, dignified with the sinuous Wye, bursts upon the view in a long continuance of varied scenery. The town of Bualt occupies a spot on the nearmost side of the vale, overhanging the pride of Welch rivers; and beyond its oppositehilly boundary, a majestic outline of distant mountains defines the horizon. A picturesque cascade, rushing through a portal of rocks and woods to the left of the road, must not be passed unnoticed; it occurs within a mile of Bualt; and after crossing the road beneath its bridge, the stream unites with the Wye.
Bualtis a small market-town comprised in two streets rising one over the other, upon the high shelving bank of the river. Although anciently and irregularly built, it is much resorted to by the neighbouring gentry, not less for the beauty of its position, than for the famed salubrity of its air. Camden supposes it to be the Bullacum Silurum of Ptolemy, and the Burrium of Antoninus. Horseley, on the other hand, fixes upon Usk in Monmouthshire as the site of that Roman station; while other antiquaries contend in favour of Caerphilly. However this may have been, the only vestige of high antiquity that now marks the place is a mound, the site of the keep of its castle, which was burnt down in 1690.
It was in the neighbourhood of Bualt, between the Wye and its tributary stream theIrvon, that the Cambrian warriors made their last stand for independence. The brave Llewelyn,
“Great patriot hero, ill-requited chief,”
“Great patriot hero, ill-requited chief,”
after a transient victory at the foot of Snowdon, led his troops to this position, where they were unexpectedly attacked and defeated by the English forces, while Llewelyn, unarmed, was employed in a conference with some chieftains in a valley not far distant. The prince was informed of the event by the cries of his flying army; and all that prompt intrepidity could effect he exerted to rejoin his men; but in vain; the spear of his enemy pierced his side, and happily spared him the anguish of witnessing the irretrievable ruin of his country’s liberties.
Edward’s conduct to the body of this prince, royal like himself, of a lineage still more ancient and noble, and who boldly fell asserting the rights of his country and inheritance, has affixed a blot on his memory, which not all his well-regulated ambition, not all the splendour of his victories, can gloss over, or efface from the page of history. The prince’s head was received in London with such demonstrationsof joy by the citizens, as might have suited a conquest over a predatory invader; it was carried on the point of a lance through Cheapside; and, after having been fixed in the pillory, was placed on the highest part of the tower of London, to glut the eyes of the multitude. So easy is it to impose on the natural feelings of a people once cajoled into an approval of military despotism and cruelty.
On leaving Bualt, and crossing its bridge, the tourist entersRadnorshire, where the road, traced upon heights impendent over the Wye, commands one of the most beautifully romantic vallies in the principality. The river, which we have before seen majestically flowing, rapid but unopposed, among flowery lawns, here, approaching its native source in the bosom of Plinlimmon, appears eddying, foaming, and roaring in a narrow channel, amid shelving rocks and disjointed craigs, a mere mountain torrent. With the accompaniments of towering precipices, naked rocks, and impendent cliffs, finely softened by overhanging branchy trees, or partially concealed by deep shadowy woods, and frequently enlivened by a stripeof verdant meadow, the river presents a succession of picturesquemorçeaus, the most striking imaginable; and fully compensates the bad state of the road in this part. A considerable range of prospect also presents itself on the right, from some favoured eminences, where a long series of moorish lumpy hills extend over the greater part of Radnorshire, which shews but an indifferent mixture of cultivation with numerous heaths and forests.
An extensive mountainous dreary region,
“Where woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear,”
“Where woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear,”
occupies part of the counties of Brecon, Cardigan, and Radnor, westward of the Wye. Among these deep solitudes, Camden informs us, king Vortigern sought a refuge from the persecutions that his crimes and follies raised against him. His ultimate fate is wrapped in uncertainty; but his vileness needed not a more agonizing torture than his wounded conscience, whether recurring to his incestuous intercourse with his own offspring, or to his miserable policy in resting the defence of Britain upon the assistance of foreign troops.
Rhayder-gowy, wildly situated at the foot of the mountainous barrier between South and North Wales, consists of two streets of neatly whitened houses, and is graced with the vicinity of two churches. A castle also added to the consequence of the town in the time of the Welch princes; but none of its remains now appear, except a deep trench cut in the rock of the town, and three or four barrows, which are, no doubt, connected with its history. The market-house is a neat little building, though of rough stones; and the Red Lion inn is no less remarkable for its neatness and accommodation, useful though unimposing, than for the obliging assiduities of its landlord.
The scenery of the Wye, close to this town, acquires an uncommon degree of grandeur. Raging in its rocky bed, the river is seen through the light foliage of impendent trees, and almost beneath a bold arch which bestrides the river, bounding over a ledge of rock in a fall of some depth; whence it tears its way among protruding craigs in a sheet of glistening foam, but is almost immediately concealed by the embowering ornaments of its banks.
Above the town of Rhayder, a bold hilly region, overspread with treacherous bogs, or broken into precipices of fearful depth, mixes with the magnificent forms of the North Wales mountains. Here nature wears her wildest garb; no stripe of cultivation controls the dreary majesty of the scene; the mountain sheep browse on the dizzy heights unmindful of danger; the hardy ponies here sport away their early years, unconscious of restraint; and, no less free, the bold mountaineer looks round his stormy world, nor hapless mourns the gayer spheres below:
“But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil,Each wish contracting, fits him to the soil.Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose,Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes;At night returning, every labour sped,He sits him down the monarch of a shed;Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveysHis children’s looks, that brighten at the blaze;While his lov’d partner, boastful of her hoard,Displays her cleanly platter on the board:”* * * * *“Such are the charms to barren states assign’d,Their wants but few, their wishes all confin’d.”
“But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil,Each wish contracting, fits him to the soil.Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose,Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes;At night returning, every labour sped,He sits him down the monarch of a shed;Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveysHis children’s looks, that brighten at the blaze;While his lov’d partner, boastful of her hoard,Displays her cleanly platter on the board:”
* * * * *
“Such are the charms to barren states assign’d,Their wants but few, their wishes all confin’d.”
This district is, however, rich in mineral treasure; and several lead-mines, and one ortwo copper-mines, are worked with considerable spirit.
Here my observations upon South-Wales draw to a close: they have been very brief upon Radnorshire; and yet the excursion on the banks of the Wye describes almost its only attraction. Indeed, this county is remarkably barren in subjects of picturesque beauty, memorials of antique grandeur, and remarkable towns and villas. I find but one religious house in this shire described in Dugdale’s Monasticon, or Tanner’s Notitia Monastica, which is Abbey Cwm Hir, situated about six miles east of Rhayder; but I understand that no part of the building remains. It was founded for Cistercian monks by Cadwathelan ap Madoc in the year 1143, and must have been a very inconsiderable foundation, as its revenues at the suppression of monasteries were only valued at 28l.14s.4d.
The castles that occur in this county are neither remarkable in their history nor venerable in decay. Yet frequent and memorable are the earthen works that characterize almost every hill in the county, whicheither wear the marks of cairns[343]or ancient encampments.
“’Twas on those downs, by Roman hosts annoy’d,Fought our bold fathers, rustic, unrefin’d!Freedom’s fair sons, in martial cares employ’d,They ting’d their bodies but unmask’d their mind.”
“’Twas on those downs, by Roman hosts annoy’d,Fought our bold fathers, rustic, unrefin’d!Freedom’s fair sons, in martial cares employ’d,They ting’d their bodies but unmask’d their mind.”
On a hill near Knighton, at the eastern limit of the county, is still shewn theCamp of Caractacus; and an encampment on another hill separated from the first by a deep valley, is said to be that of the Roman general Ostorius. The Britons waited the attack of the enemy’s legions in their advantageous position, and fought like men who valued life no longer than as it was connected with freedom; but their courage availed nothing before the skill and discipline of the Roman army; after an immense slaughter they gave way, and Caractacus’s wife, daughter, and brothers, were taken prisoners. The king escaped, but was soon after betrayedinto the hands of his enemies. His noble speech and deportment when brought before the Roman emperor, as transmitted to us by the pen of Tacitus, must ever excite admiration, and evince the immutable dignity of manly virtue, however bereft of the factitious splendour of power.
Offa’s Dykealso passes near Knighton; the boundary established by Offa king of the Mercians between his dominions and Wales, after a decisive victory over the Britons. It formerly extended from the Dee to the mouth of the Wye; and it was enacted, that any Welchman found in arms on the English side of the boundary should have his right hand cut off.Knightonitself I find described to be an ordinary town, built on a steep bank of the Teme. Seven miles southward of it isPresteign, a better built and paved town than the former, and graced with a beautiful little eminence (the site of its castle), laid out in public walks. This town is considered as the modern capital of the county: in it are held the assizes; and, having the jail, it is farther distinguished with all the apprehended rogues in Radnorshire.Old Radnor, three or four miles farthersouthward, Camden supposes to have been the Magoth of Antoninus, garrisoned by the Paciensian regiment in the reign of Theodosius the younger; but, whatever it may have been formerly, it now appears an insignificant village.New Radnor, though nominally the capital of the shire, is little better; yet a few vestiges of an encompassing wall and a castle give it more unequivocal marks of former importance than the parent town. Its decline is dated from the rebellion of Owen Glendower, who destroyed the castle and ravaged all the surrounding district. In a rocky glen, in the vicinity of this town, is a fine cascade, though of inconsiderable volume, calledWater breaks its Neck.
Crossing Radnor forest, an extensive tract of sheep down and coppice, about twelve miles from New Radnor, and seven from Bualt, isLlandrindod Wells. This place, consisting only of one house of public entertainment and a few cottages, appears to be justly distinguished for the efficacy of its springs, which are chalybeate, sulphureous, and cathartic. But though the medicinal virtues of these waters be undoubted, and considered even more potent than those ofHarrowgate; yet the place, being dreary, remote, and void of elegant accommodation, is only visited by a very few real invalids: none of that gay tribe is here to be met with which forms the principal company at watering-places in general.