LLANTHONY ABBEY,Monmouthshire.

“The superstitious, idle-headed eldReceived, and did deliver to our age.”

In those days, no fortress surrendered, no castle fell, no band of heroes was discomfited, but in fulfilment of some irresistible “prophecy.”—But here we must close the subject with a few words on the

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The connection of this gallant prince and sovereign with Monmouth, invests it with a lasting claim to veneration on the part of those tourists who judge of the soil by the character of its products. In the words of Fluellen, “All the water inWyecannot wash your Majesty’s Welsh plood out of your pody;” nor, we may add, weaken a single link of that chain which connects the hero of Agincourt with the history of Monmouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Near the bridge of the Monnow stands the ancient—

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

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

Of Monmouth, Churchyard sings:—

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

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

“Now I gain the mountain’s brow—What a landscape lies below!No clouds, no vapours intervene;But the gay, the open scene,Does the face of Nature showIn all the hues of heaven’s bow;And, swelling to embrace the light,Spreads around beneath the sight.Old castles on the cliffs arise,Proudly towering in the skies;Rushing from the woods, the spiresSeem from hence ascending fires.Half his beams Apollo shedsOn the yellow mountain heads,Gilds the fleeces of the flocks,And glitters on the broken rocks.”“And see the rivers, how they runThrough woods and meads, in shade and sun!Ever charming, ever new,When will the landscape tire the view?”

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

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

“’Mongst Hatteril’s lofty hills, that with the clouds are crowned,The valleyEwiaslies immured so steep and round,As they believe that see the mountains rise so high,Might think the straggling herds were grazing in the sky;Which in it such a shape of solitude doth bear,As Nature at the first appointed it forprayer;Where in an aged cell, with moss and ivy grown,In which not to this day the sun hath ever shone;That reverend BritishSaint, in zealous ages past,In contemplation lived, and did so truly fast,As he did only drink what crystalHodneyyields,And fed upon theleekshe gathered in the fields.In memory of whom, in the revolving year,TheWelshmenon hisdaythat sacredherbdo wear!”—Drayton.

SAINT DAVID, uncle of the renowned King Arthur, and titular Saint of Wales, was the first who introduced the rites of Christian worship into these mountain solitudes. Selecting for his hermitage a spot which had all the characteristics of a rude and unfrequented wilderness, he built a chapel on the banks of the Honddy—the stream by which it was watered—and there spent many years of his life in the exercise of an austere devotion. The reputation of his sanctity having spread over the surrounding country brought many pilgrims to his cell; and when at length he was added to the list of canonized saints, it was still resorted to as a place long consecrated by the practice of a holy life.

In the reign of William Rufus—as attested by the Abbey records—the hallowed retreat was thus discovered. Hugh de Laci, a great Norman baron, having on a hunting excursion followed the deer into this secluded valley, sat down at the conclusion of the chase to refresh himself and his attendants. The wildness and beauty of the scenery around them appeared to have affected their minds with unwonted impressions; and the accidental visit was thus prolonged for the sake of the rude but romantic valley which the morning’s adventure had so unexpectedly thrown open.

The Nave.Llanthony Abbey.

The Nave.

Llanthony Abbey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Milo, Founderof Llanthony Secunda.—Under this head, it is recorded in the Abbey Chronicle, that in the reign of KingHenry, son of the Conqueror, there flourished a certain warrior of noble family named Gwalterus, orWalter, who was Constable, under the King, of the Castles of Gloucester and Hereford. The said Walter caused to be erected on his own demesne the Castle of Gloucester, and dying some time thereafter, his remains were conveyed toLlanthony Abbey, in Wales, and there buried. The aforesaid Walter left an only son,Miloby name, whom King Henry created Earl ofHereford; and moreover, by way of augmentation to the said earldom, made over to him and his heirs for ever a grant of the whole Forest ofDean.

ThisMilo, first earl of the name, took to wife Sibylla, heiress ofBrecknock, and daughter ofBernardandAgnesof New March.[329]—The offspring of this marriage were five sons and three daughters, namely, Roger, Henry, Walter, Matthew, and William, Margery, Bertha, and Lucy. He founded the Abbey or Priory of New Llanthony, near Gloucester, on the 25th of May, 1136, being the first of King Stephen’s reign; and dying on Christmas-eve, 1143, was buried in the chancel of theAbbeywhich he had founded seven years before. After his demise, he was succeeded in his titles and estates by each of his five sons, one after the other; but all of whom died without legitimate issue. Hereupon his possessions were shared in equal proportions by his three surviving daughters.[330]Lucy, his third daughter, was married to HerbertFitz-Herbert, and had for her share and dowry the Forest of Dean, and other estates in England.[331]The offspring of this marriage was a son namedPeter, who became the father of a long line of descendants.

Bertha, second daughter of Count Milo, married Williamde Brewes, and took for dowry the lordship of Brecknock. The offspring from this marriage were three sons,William,Egidius, andReginald. William, their eldest son and heir, in the time of King John, having made war upon his enemy Guenhunewyn, subdued him, and slew no less than three thousand Welsh in one day atElvel. This battle took place on the morrow ofSt. Lawrencethe Martyr, in the year of our Lord 1498. But for this rebellious act he was disinherited byKing John; and, without trial, condemned to quit the realm of England. He died in exile; while his unhappy wife and their only son, being thrown into prison by the same heartless and arbitrary power, died shortly after in captivity.

Egidius, the second son, became Bishop of Hereford; andReginaldde Brewes, the third son, after the death of KingJohn, and that of his two brothers the afore-named William and Egidius, was pronounced heir to all the possessions which had been forfeited by his brother William, and took possession of the same accordingly. He married a daughter of Williamde la Bruere, and had by his wife a son whom he named William de Brewes,quartus. The latter espoused the lady Eve, daughter of the renowned William, Earl Marshall, so frequently mentioned in these pages.[332]By this union he had issue four daughters—Isabella, Matilda, Eve, and Alionora. Of these,Isabellawas married to David, son ofLlewellyn, Prince of Wales.

But at a great festival where he presided, immediately after the Paschal Feast, in 1229, Llewellyn conceiving a bitter jealousy between his wife and the said William de Brewes, most treacherously caused the latter to be ignominiously hanged—an atrocity which threw the whole Welsh frontier into the greatest confusion and alarm; for at that timeKing Henrywas still in France with a large army; and in his absence the country was but ill provided with the means of enforcing the law.

Matilda, the second daughter, married RogerMortimer, Lord Wigmore, from whom sprang a numerous progeny.Eve, the third daughter, married Williamde Cartello.Alionora, the fourth and youngest, married Humphreyde Bohun, with the lordship of Brecknock, which for some time had belonged to the Counts or Earls of Hereford. Among the names here mentioned, those of Bertha and Lucy, daughters ofMilo, are to be held in special reverence as eminent patrons and benefactors ofNew Llanthony.

And here, for the present, we take leave of the genealogical table, which exhibits in many striking examples the instability of fortune, the frailty of human nature, the vanity of riches, and the uncertain tenure of life.

CHARTERS.—The following is an extract from the charter of King John, in the first year of his reign, wherein all grants previously made in favour ofLlanthonyare recited and confirmed:—

“Knowall men by these presents, that I,John, King of England, have, out of love to God, confirmed in perpetual offering to God, to the Blessed Virgin, St. John the Baptist, and the Canons-Regular ofLantonay, the donations or grants hereunder described, which have been reasonably and lawfully conceded to them, viz.: By deed of gift from our father the late King Henry, the chapel near the Castle of Gloucester, the school in the same town, a moiety of the fishery ofHorsepol, which is in our domain, with iiij lib. of land in the manor ofBernington, as alms in perpetuity.”—So much for the new Abbey near Gloucester.

He then recites and confirms the benefactions of Hugh and Walterde Laci, consisting of lands, woods, fisheries, villages, houses, and whatever property in those times was essential to the prosperity of a great religious establishment. It is a long deed; and, besides those already noticed, introduces a full list of benefactors, whose names and families—though of great note and influence at that day—have long vanished from the political horizon, and are seldom found but in ancient title-deeds, or charters like the present, in which their good works are faithfully and minutely registered.

It is to be observed, however, that after the establishment ofNew Llanthonyon the Severn, the benefactions to the Mother-Abbey are few and insignificant. The former, under the patronage of theMilofamily, became suddenly rich, and able to introduce those embellishments of art, and that luxurious mode of life, which opened a wide channel for the diffusion of its revenues; but while it increased its splendour, insured its ultimate poverty.

By aDeedgiven byEdwardthe Second, in the eighteenth year of his reign, the property conveyed to Llanthony by Walterde Laciand others, is again revised and confirmed. He grants also permission to elect from their own body, or from any other, as they may see meet, a fit person to preside over the Church and Priory of Llanthony, whenever a vacancy occurs, concluding—“Et ut hæc libertas eligendi eis in perpetuum perseveret illibata, huic scriptoSigillummeum est appositum.”

The Deed given byWalterandHughde Laci to the Canons of Llanthony is then recited; and by this document a vast amount of property, privileges, arable lands, pastures, fisheries, hunting-grounds, and various other benefactions, are described as finally made over to the Prior and Brotherhood,out of pure love for the glory of God, the welfare of their own souls, the souls of their predecessors, successors, and kinsfolk.

In this munificent grant is comprised the whole valley—‘totam vallem’—of theEwyas, with all its appurtenances, in which the church is situated; describing, at the same time, its boundaries:—“Et concedo quod habeant omnimodam venationem et dominationem infra metus terræ suæ.” All this is followed by other unquestionable privileges, such as united with the spiritual an amount of despotic power, which invested the Prior and Canons of Llanthony with an authority in things temporal, no way inferior to that exercised by a feudal Baron in his own castle, and over his own vassals.[333]

But in spite of its revenues, and the ‘personal example and influence of a few—but only a few—distinguished members and benefactors of this monastery, it fell gradually into disrepute and decay.’ The principal cause has been generally ascribed to the rival Abbey at Gloucester, by which benefactors were alienated, and good works averted from that on the Honddy. But there were other causes at work—the evil lives of the Priors themselves; their indolence, luxury, and licentiousness; their dissipating the funds, and perverting their use to unsanctified purposes; which did more to degrade monastic habits, and pull down the sacred edifice, than could have been accomplished by their most inveterate enemies. And enemies they certainly had—both formidable and frequent; for they were exposed, by their insulated position and supposed wealth, to irruptions from those bands of marauders, to whom plunder and forced contribution from holy men were more like a pastime than military enterprise. But of this hereafter.

WEare now to give some account of the decline and final dissolution of Llanthony, brought about by causes which are thus recorded by the Latin historian:—Whereas certain priories and religious houses, but more especially the aforesaid Priory of St. John the Baptist ofLanthonyPrimain Wales, as well by frequent removals and expulsions of the Priors and occupiers of the places aforesaid, as by divers secular persons and others, tenants of these possessions, were so profligately squandered, dilapidated, and mismanaged, both in regard to their houses, substance, and affairs, that divine service and the regular observance of religious duties have become less frequent than ever; that the means of hospitality, almsgiving, and, above all, the works of piety and charity, which had been there established of old, and customarily done and observed in the place, are now withdrawn and perverted from the original design: And whereas JohnAdams, Prior ofLanthony, as we are plainly informed, hath wasted and destroyed, and continues to waste and destroy, the fruits, revenues, products, and emoluments of the saidPriory; and hath found and supported no Canons, except himself and four others, little given to a religious life; that he hath withdrawn, and does withdraw, the forms of divine worship, works of hospitality, piety, and charity, which were there wont to be done and maintained, according to the original foundation of the same; whereby the vows and intentions of the Founders have been and are so fraudulently perverted, to the manifest offence and great displeasure of Almighty God, and contrary to the design of the Founder: And whereas our will is, that the pious vows of theFoundersof the said Priory be not thus shamefully frustrated and forgotten; but in reverence of the salutary order observed by those godly men, the Prior and Canons-Regular of the Monastery ofLanthony, near Gloucester; and observing in what an exemplary manner divine service and punctual observances are every day celebrated therein, with honour and strict obedience, according to the full extent of its revenues: And whereas it is our earnest desire to make suitable provision for the honour ofGodand his Church, by a restoration of the forms of divine worship, and by application of the revenues left by the Founder to their original and legitimate object: We, therefore, have here, by an act of special grace, granted and conceded to our beloved inChrist,Henry Deen, Prior, etc., of Lanthony, near Gloucester, to that Convent and his successors for ever, the right of patronage, and the advocation of the Priory and Conventual Church ofLanthony, etc., in Wales.Alsothe Priory, etc., with all members, cells, churches, chapels, domains, lands, and tenements, whatsoever and wheresoever—in England, Wales, and Ireland—as parcels of the said Priory, or in whatever manner belonging thereto;Withall rents, etc., to have and to hold by the said Prior and Convent ofSt. Maryof Lanthony, and their successors—for the sum of three hundred marks, paid to us beforehand—in pure and perpetual alms for ever. And

Moreover, we grant to the said Prior and Convent, the Conventual Church or Monastery ofLanthonyin Wales; with the priorate, and all rights, privileges, and appurtenances, to the Prior and Convent of Lanthony, near Gloucester—their Conventual Church and successors—to be consolidated, united, appropriated—to transfer, or to be transferred to their management; and that they possess these in full and proper use for themselves and their successors for ever; together with, etc.

Andthese things, all and singular, as promised and permitted, consolidated, etc., and transferred to them and their successors aforesaid, to have and to hold for ever, for their proper use, and for masses and prayers to be performed for our prosperity, and that ofElizabeth, our well-beloved consort, so long as we remain in the body; and for the health of our souls when we shall depart this life.Alsofor the souls of our progenitors; and for the souls of all who have departed this life in theFaith.

Andit is hereby ordered, that the Prior of NewLanthonyand his Convent, they and their successors, shall exhibit and defray their own and all expenses incurred in the maintenance of OldLanthony, and the Prior and Canons there resident. That the latter office shall be in the gift of the former, removable at the will and pleasure of the Prior and Convent for the time being. That four Canons[334]shall there reside, for the celebration of masses and other divine offices; and for the administration of the sacraments, and sacramental duties, to the parishioners and rural population, so long as they are not impeded or interrupted therein by the rebellious disturbers of our peace. And to pray for the souls of the Founders ofLanthonyPrima, and for the souls above-named;and to be removable at the word or sign of the Prior, for the time being, of NewLanthonyaforesaid, etc. etc.—By theKingatWestminster, the x day of May.[335]

Fromthis date the Abbey of Old Llanthony, which had been grievously interrupted in its religious duties, and damaged by its own internal misgovernment, the reckless lives of its inmates, and the frequent imposts and exactions to which it was subjected by the rebels and marauders above alluded to, was suffered to fall into decay and disrepute. Its resources, in obedience to the above decree, were drawn off from their legitimate channel, and employed to augment the revenues and foster the pride of its undutiful and “rival Daughter” on the banks of the Severn. Thus—as the old historian has pathetically observed—“Filii Matris meæ pugnaverunt contra me; nam leviùs communia tangunt, sed quodammodo specialiori et tanto atrociori flere, clamando, Filii uteri mei pugnaverunt contra me, quia—

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