The Wye and Its Associations Part 2

Although the lower pa.s.sage of the river commences at Ross, we do not, for two or three miles further, get fairly into its peculiarities. From the gentle, the graceful, the gay, it glides almost insensibly into the picturesque, the bold, and the grand. The tranquillity of its course from the Hay-a tranquillity dearly purchased by the labours of its wild career during the upper pa.s.sage-has prepared it for new vicissitudes, and new struggles. The following description, by archdeacon c.o.xe, applies to a great part of the portion we are now entering upon, and cannot be improved either in fidelity or style.

"The effects of these numerous windings are various and striking; the same objects present themselves, are lost and recovered with different accompaniments, and in different points of view: thus the ruins of a castle, hamlets embosomed in trees, the spire of a church bursting from the wood, figures impending over the water, and broken ma.s.ses of rock fringed with herbage, sometimes are seen on one side, sometimes on the other, and form the fore-ground or background of a landscape. Thus also the river itself here stretches in a continuous line, there moves in a curve, between gentle slopes and fertile meadows, or is suddenly concealed in a deep abyss, under the gloom of impending woods." "The banks for the most part rise abruptly from the edge of the water, and are clothed with forests, or are broken into cliffs. In some places they approach so near that the river occupies the whole intermediate s.p.a.ce, and nothing is seen but woods, rocks, and water; in others, they alternately recede, and the eye catches an occasional glimpse of hamlets, ruins, and detached buildings, partly seated on the margin of the stream, and partly scattered on the rising grounds. The general character of the scenery, however, is wildness and solitude; and if we except the populous district of Monmouth, no river perhaps flows for so long a course in a well cultivated country, the banks of which exhibit so few habitations."

A little below Ross, on the right bank of the river, are the ruins of Wilton Castle, which was for several centuries the baronial residence of the Greys of the south, and was destroyed by the Hereford royalists in the time of Charles I. Let us relate, however, as a circ.u.mstance of still more interest, that it was left, with the adjoining lands, by Thomas Guy, to the admirable charity in London which he founded, known by the name of Guy's Hospital.

The Wye here pa.s.ses under Wilton bridge, a construction of rather a curious kind, which dates from the close of the sixteenth century.

Coracles are seldom seen so high up the river as this; but we mention them here because the hero of Gilpin's often repeated anecdote was an inhabitant of Wilton. This man, it seems, ventured into the British Channel in a coracle, as far as the isle of Lundy; a very remarkable voyage to be made in a canva.s.s tub, the navigation of the estuary of the Severn being quite as trying as that of any part of the British seas.

Previously, however, to this exploit, the very same feat was performed by an itinerant stage-doctor of Mitchel Dean in the Forest. The coracles are a sort of basket made of willow twigs, covered with pitched canva.s.s or raw hide, and resembling in form the section of a walnut-sh.e.l.l.

Similar rude contrivances are in use among the Esquimaux and other savage tribes, and were employed by the ancient Britons for the navigation of rivers. They are now the fishing-boats of the rivers of South Wales; and when the day's work is done are carried home on the shoulders of their owners, disposed in such a way as to serve for a hood in case of rain.

The early ships of Britain are described by Caesar and Pliny as being merely larger coracles-clumsy frames of rough timber, ribbed with hurdles and lined with hides. According to Claudian they had masts and sails, although they were generally rowed, the rowers singing to the harp.

At the farm of Weir End, the river takes a sudden bend, and rolls along the steep sides of Pencraig Hill, which are clothed with wood to the water's edge. Soon the ruined turrets of Goodrich Castle present themselves, crowning the summit of a wooded eminence on the right bank, and as they vanish and reappear with the turnings of the river the effect is magnificent.

CHAPTER V.

Roman pa.s.ses of the Wye-Goodrich Castle-Keep-Fortifications-Apartments-Its history-Goodrich Court-Forest of Dean-Laws of the Miners-Military exploit-Wines of Gloucestershire.

If the conjecture of antiquaries be correct, that the great Roman road from Blestium to Gloucester, by Ariconium, proceeded by the ford of the Wye at Goodrich Castle, it is possible that this spot may have been of some consequence before the period when history takes any cognizance of the fortress. Blestium is supposed to be Monmouth, from which the road probably led along the line of the present turnpike, between an entrenchment to the left, opposite Dixon Church, and an encampment on the Little Doward, to the right, supposed by some to be Roman, but usually described in the road books as British. The name of Whitchurch Street, applied to a portion of this route further on, favours the supposition of a Roman origin. Ariconium, the next station from Blestium, is Rosebury Hill, near Ross, according to those who identify Monmouth with Blestium.

There was another Roman way which led from Blestium to Glevum (Gloucester) by a more direct route; crossing the Wye at the former place, and leading up the Kymin from the left bank of the river. At Stanton, a little further on, the vestiges of a Roman settlement are indubitable, not only in the name of the place itself, but in the entrenchments that may be observed near the church, and the Roman cinders scattered about the fields. At Monmouth and Goodrich Castle, therefore, were the two great pa.s.ses of the Wye used by the Romans. At the latter the river is crossed by a ferry.

"The awe and admiration could not be enhanced with which I wandered through the dark pa.s.sages and the s.p.a.cious courts, and climbed the crumbling staircase of Goodrich Castle." So says the German prince: although the time of his visit was winter, when the Wye and its ruins are stripped of the adjunct of foliage, which in the imagination of common travellers is inseparably connected with ideas of the picturesque or beautiful in natural scenery.

Goodrich Castle forms a parallelogram, with a round tower at each angle, and a square keep in the south-west part of the enclosure. A minute account of this remarkable ruin is given in the "Antiqua Monumenta;" and Mr. Bonner introduces his brief description, in ill.u.s.tration of his perspective views, with the remark that "the fortification (although not of large dimensions) contains all the different works which const.i.tute a complete ancient baronial castle." For this reason, if for no other, it would demand special observation; but the tourist of the Wye, even if ignorant of the interest which thus attaches to Goodrich Castle, will acknowledge that it forms one of the finest objects. .h.i.therto presented by the banks of the river. It stands on the summit of a wooded hill, in the position of one of the castles of the Rhine, and in the midst of a scene of solemn grandeur which Mason may have had in view when he wrote his spirited description of the sacred grove of Mona, in "Caractacus."

"Here, Romans, pause, and let the eye of wonder Gaze on the solemn scene: behold yon oak How stem it frowns, and with its broad brown arms Chills the pale plains beneath him: mark yon altar, The dark stream brawling round its rugged base, These cliffs, these yawning caverns, this wide circus, Skirted with unhewn stone: they awe my soul As if the very genius of the place Himself appeared, and with terrific tread Stalked through his drear domain."

"Yonder grots, Are tenanted by bards, who nightly thence, Robed in their flowing vests of innocent white, Descend, with harps that glitter to the moon, Hymning immortal strains. The spirits of the air, Of earth, of water, nay of heav'n itself, Do listen to their lay: and oft, 'tis said, In visible shapes dance they a magic round To the high minstrelsy."

The keep is the most ancient remains of the castle, and presents, on a small scale, all the usual features of this part of a fortification of the olden times. It was composed of three stories, being intended to overlook the works, and had no windows on the landward side. Each of these stories consisted of a single small room, the lowest being the prison, without even a loophole to admit air or light. "The original windows," says King, "are the most truly Saxon that can be." This applies more particularly to the one in the middle of the upper story, which appears to have remained without any alteration; while, in the one beneath, a stone frame for gla.s.s seems to have been inserted. The style of this addition points to the time of Henry VI., and we may believe that it was made by the celebrated Earl Talbot, who tenanted one of these small chambers. Besides the gla.s.s window, this apartment boasts a hearth for fire; and, as is usual in such buildings, the communication with the floor above is by a circular staircase in an angle of the ma.s.sive wall.

"To this staircase is a most remarkable door-way; it was one large transom-stone, as if to aid the arch to support the wall above, and in this respect resembles several other Saxon structures, in which this strange kind of fashion seems to have been uniformly adopted; until it became gradually altered by the introduction of a flattish _under-arch_, inst.i.tuted in the room of the transom-stone." {63}

The entrance to the keep was by a flight of steps, leading to the above apartment; but the dungeon had an entrance of its own, of a construction which leads antiquarians to conjecture, that it was added in the reign of Edward III., when Richard Talbot obtained the royal license for making his dungeon a state prison.

The fortifications to be surmounted before an enemy could arrive at the keep, were numerous and complete. Independently of the fosse, there was a deep pit, hewn out of the solid rock, to be crossed by a drawbridge, and then commenced a dark vaulted pa.s.sage between two semicircular towers. Eleven feet within the pa.s.sage was a ma.s.sive gate, defended (as likewise the drawbridge) by loopholes in the sides of the vault, and machicolations in the roof, for pouring down molten lead or boiling water on the a.s.sailants. A few feet farther on was a portcullis, and then a second, the s.p.a.ce between protected by loopholes and machicolations.

Presently there was another strong gate, and finally a stone projection on both sides, intended for the insertion of beams of timber, to act as a barricade. If we add that the pa.s.sage thus defended was less than ten feet wide, and that the exterior walls of the whole building were in general seven feet thick, an idea may be formed of the strength of Goodrich Castle.

Within the ballium, or enclosed s.p.a.ce, entered with such difficulty, were the keep here described, the state apartments, chapel, &c.; but the whole of these are in so ruinous a state, as to be nearly unintelligible except to antiquaries. The great hall was sixty-five feet long and twenty-eight broad, and appears to have been a magnificent apartment of the time of Edward I., as its windows indicate. The fire-place is still distinguishable in the great kitchen. Communicating with the hall is a smaller room, from which a pa.s.sage led into another room of state, fifty-five feet by twenty; and this opened into the ladies' tower, standing upon the brow of a lofty precipice, and commanding a delightful view over the country.

It is curious that so remarkable a structure should be almost dest.i.tute of authentic history, till the very period when it ceased to exist but as a ruin. All that is known of its origin is, that a fort, held by a doomsday proprietor, of the name of G.o.dric, commanded the ford of the river at this place before the Conquest. The fort consisted, in all probability, of little more than the keep; to which, at later periods, additions were made, cognisable by their style, till Goodrich Castle became a regular fortress. In 1165 it was the property of the earl of Pembroke, then lord of the whole district from Ross to Chepstow; and, subsequently, it was a seat of the Talbot family, who, in 1347, founded a priory of black canons at Flanesford, which is now a barn, about a quarter of a mile below the castle. During the civil wars this fortress played a conspicuous part, being taken and retaken by the opposing parties. In the first instance it held for the parliament; but was afterwards seized by Sir Richard Lingen, who, in 1646, defended it with great gallantry against Colonel Birch for nearly five months, and thus conferred upon it the distinction of being the last castle in England, excepting Pendennis, which held out for the king. In the following year it was ordered by the parliament to be "totally disgarrisoned and _slighted_," which sentence was just sufficiently carried into effect to give the Wye a magnificent ruin at the very spot where taste would have placed it. "Here," says Mr. Gilpin, "a grand view presented itself, and we rested on our oars to examine it. A reach of the river, forming a n.o.ble bay, is spread before the eye. The bank on the right is steep, and covered with wood, beyond which a bold promontory shoots out, crowned with a castle rising among trees. This view, which is one of the grandest on the river, I should not scruple to call correctly picturesque."

Near the spot where Mr. Gilpin must have been is the ferry where Henry IV., who was waiting to be taken across, received intelligence of his queen's being delivered of a prince at Monmouth Castle. The king, according to tradition, was so overjoyed at the news, that he presented the ferry and boat, which at this time belonged to the crown, to the ferryman. On the left bank, nearly opposite, are the church and village of Walford, in the former of which is buried Colonel Kyrle, who deserted the service of Charles I. for that of the parliament.

Goodrich Court, to which a winding path leads from the castle, is somewhat nearer Ross. It is the seat of Sir Samuel Meyrick, the well known antiquary, and presents, in the architecture, an exact imitation of a mansion of the middle of the fourteenth century. In this respect, as well as in the arrangement of its proprietor's valuable collection of old armour, the house may be said to be absolutely perfect. It forms in itself and its contents, one of the most interesting museums in Europe; and it is open, with very little ceremony, to the inspection of the traveller, as all such things are, when they do not happen to be the property of persons unworthy to possess them.

The river sweeps boldly round the wooded headland on which Goodrich Castle stands; and the ruin is thus presented again and again, in new phases (but none so interesting as the first), to the voyager, as he glides down the now varied and romantic river. A steep ridge on the right bank is called Coppet, or Copped Wood Hill, where the stream makes a sweep of five miles, to perform the actual advance of one. The ma.s.s of foliage on the opposite bank is a part of the Forest of Dean, variegated, by rocks, hamlets, and village spires. Bishop's Brook here enters the Wye, and serves as a boundary between the counties of Hereford and Gloucester, and between the parishes of Walford and Ruerdean. "The view at Ruerdean church," says Mr. Gilpin, "is a scene of great grandeur.

Here both sides of the river are steep, and both woody; but on one (meaning the left bank), the woods are interspersed with rocks. The deep umbrage of the Forest of Dean occupies the front, and the spire of the church rises among the trees. The reach of the river which exhibits this scene is long; and of course the view, which is a n.o.ble piece of natural perspective, continues some time before the eye; but when the spire comes directly in front, the grandeur of the landscape is gone."

The famous Forest of Dean is in the s.p.a.ce which here lies between the Severn and the Wye. "In former ages," as Camden tells us, "by the irregular tracks and horrid shades," it was so dark and dreary as to render its inhabitants more audacious in robberies. In the time of Edward I. there were seventy-two furnaces here for melting iron; and it is related, that the miners of those days were very industrious in seeking after the beds of cinders, where the Romans of Britain had been at work before them, which remains, when burnt over again, were supposed to make the best iron. The privileges of these miners were, no doubt, for the most part a.s.sumed, but some granted by law are highly curious.

The following are specimens:-

"Also, if any smith holder, or any other be debtor, for mine to a miner, the which smith holder or other be within, then the miner is bailiff in every place (except his own close), to take the horse of the debtor, if he be saddled with a work saddle, and with no other saddle; and be it that the horse be half within the door of the smith, so that the miner may take the tail of the horse, the debtor shall deliver the horse to the miner. And if he so do not, the miner shall make and levy hue and cry upon the said horse, and then the horse shall be forfeit to the king for the hue and cry made and levied, and yet the miner shall present the debtor in the Mind Law, which is the court for the mine."

"And the debtor before the constable and his clerk, the gaveler and the miners, and none other folk to plead the right, only the ministers shall be there, and hold a stick of holly, and the said miner demanding the debt, shall put his hand upon the said stick, and none other with him, and he shall swear by his faith, that the said debt is to him due; and the prove made, the debtor, in the same place, shall pay the miner all the debt proved, or else he shall be brought to the castle of St. Briavells till grace be made, and also he shall be amerced to the king in two shillings.

"Also the miner hath such franchises to inquire the mine in every soil of the king's of which it may be named, and also of all other folk, without withsaying of any man.

"And also if any be that denieth any soil, whatsoever it be, be it sound or no, or of what degree it may be named, then the gaveler, by the strength of the king, shall deliver the soil to the miners, with a convenient way, next stretching to the king's highway, by the which mine may be carried to all places and waters that lean convenient to the said mine, without withsaying of any man."

The Forest of Dean plays a conspicuous part in the wars of Monmouthshire, serving as a natural outwork for the county. The following transaction is described by Sanderson, the historian of Charles I.:-"After Sir William Waller," says he, "had refreshed his men, he advanced towards Monmouthshire, invited by some gentlemen to reduce these parts. At his coming to the town of Monmouth, the garrison of the lord Herbert retired, leaving a naked place to Sir William; where he found small success of his parties, sent abroad for supplies of money. He marches to Usk, and spending some time to no purpose in that county, he returns, the stream of the people affording him no welcome, being all universal tenants of that county to the earl of Worcester.

"In this time Prince Maurice enters Teuxbury, with a brigade of horse and foot added to the lord Grandeson, resolving to make after Waller, or to meet his return out of Wales. A bridge of boats wafts him over the Severn, with a body of two thousand horse and foot. Waller was nimble in his retreat, not to be catcht in a noose or neck of Wales; but, by a bridge of boats, came back at Chepstow, with his foot and artillery, and himself, with his horse and dragoons, pa.s.sed through the lowest part of the Forest of Dean, near the river side of Severn; and ere the prince had notice, sends forth two parties to fall upon two of the Prince's quarters, which was performed, while Waller's main body slipped between both, and a party was left also to face them, and make good the retreat, which came off but disorderly, with loss of some soldiers. It was held a handsome conveyance, and unexpected, to bring himself out of the snare by uncouth ways."

Gloucestershire, of which the Forest of Dean forms a part, although still boasting one of the richest soils in England, is no longer a _wine country_. "The ground," according to William of Malmesbury, "spontaneously produces fruit in taste and colour far exceeding others, many of which will keep the year round, so as to serve their owners till others come in again. No county in England has more or richer vineyards, or which yield greater plenty of grapes, and of a more agreeable flavour.

The wine has not a disagreeable sharpness to the taste, as it is little inferior to that of France in sweetness." On this Camden remarks, that it is more owing to "the indolence of the inhabitants than to the alteration in the climate," that in his time wine was no longer a production of the county.

Vines were introduced into Britain by the Romans, and the hills of South Wales became more especially famous for their vineyards. They were mentioned in the Domesday Book, before the time of William of Malmesbury; and t.i.thes of wines are frequently alluded to in the records of cathedrals.

CHAPTER VI.

Iron furnaces of the Wye-Lidbroke-Nurse of Henry V.-Coldwell Rocks-Symond's Yat-New Weir-Monmouth.

The woods rising amphitheatrically on the left bank, just before reaching Ruerdean, are called Bishop's Wood; and there will be observed, for the first time of their presenting themselves conspicuously, the iron furnaces, which form a very striking characteristic of the river.

The iron furnaces on the Wye rather add to than diminish the effect of the scenery. This is caused by the abundance of wood in the furnace districts, which conceals the details, while it permits the smoke to ascend in wreaths through the trees, and float like a veil around the hills. These works, however, are merely a modern revival of a species of industry which extends backwards beyond the reach of history. The heaps of cinders which are discovered on the hills of Monmouthshire are the production either of bloomeries, the most ancient mode of fusing iron, or of furnaces of a very antique construction. The operation of smelting was performed in both of these by means of charcoal; and after the lands were cleared, the want of fuel led to the decline of the iron works.

About eighty years ago, in consequence of the discovery of the mode of making pig iron, and subsequently even bar iron, with coal instead of charcoal, this branch of industry suddenly revived; although on the Wye charcoal is still burnt, and made upon the spot, where, instead of vulgarising the district, it adds a very remarkable feature to the picturesque.

At Lidbroke, on the same side, the commoner sympathies of life come into play, and the vulgar occupations of men serve at once to diversify the scene, and even to give it a new character of the picturesque. The lower pa.s.sage has. .h.i.therto been chiefly distinguished by a romantic grandeur, both in the forms of nature, and the a.s.sociations of history; and even the iron furnaces, from the circ.u.mstances we have mentioned, have added a charm congenial to the character of the picture. At Lidbroke, the new adjunct is nothing more than a _wharf_, with little vessels lying near it,-boats pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing,-horses, carts, men, women, and children stirring along the banks: but the whole, in such a spot, forms an a.s.semblage which adds, by contrast, to the general effect.

On the opposite bank the district of Monmouthshire, called Welsh Bicknor, commences-for we have hitherto been in Hereford-and Courtfield claims our attention for a moment, as the place where Henry V. is said to have been nursed, under the care of the countess of Salisbury. The remains of a bed, and an old cradle, were formerly shown as relics of the Monmouth hero. Half a mile further down the river is Welsh Bicknor Church, which has puzzled the antiquarians by its sepulchral effigy, representing a rec.u.mbent female figure in stone, not ungracefully dressed in a loose robe, but without inscription or coat of arms. Tradition will have it that this is _the_ countess of Salisbury; and it is perhaps correct in the person, though wrong in the name, for the lady who nursed Henry at Courtfield (supposing him to have been there at all) was, in all probability, Lady Montacute, who married a second son of the first earl of Salisbury, but was no countess herself. Her son, however, Sir John de Montacute, who possessed the manor of Welsh Bicknor, succeeded to the earldom, and became earl-marshal of England. It was he who was chief of the Lollards, and was murdered in 1400 by the populace of Cirencester.

The manor, although falling to the crown on account of his supposed treason, was afterwards restored to the family, and became the property of his descendant Richard, the great earl of Warwick and Salisbury.

Dugdale traces this ominous heirloom to Margaret, grand-daughter of the great earl, daughter of the duke of Clarence, and wife of Lord Montague.

This lady, after witnessing the execution of her brother Edward, earl of Warwick, and her son Henry Lord Montague, was herself beheaded in 1541.

The manor of Welsh Bicknor, and the mansion of Courtfield, pa.s.sed subsequently into the ancient family of Vaughan. We may mention here, however, although the circ.u.mstance is of no great consequence, that Sir Samuel Meyrick a.s.signs the costume of the figure in Welsh Bicknor Church to the era of Edward I., about a century before that of Henry V.

A short distance below the church this abutment of Monmouthshire terminates, and the right bank of the river lies as before in Hereford, the left in Gloucester. At Coldwell, the view is closed in by a magnificent rock scene, differing entirely in character from any yet afforded by the Wye. To suffer this to appear-supposing the traveller to be descending the river-a wooded hill, called Rosemary Topping, one of the common features of the stream, shifts like a scene in a theatre, and becomes a side-screen; so that the almost naked cliff remains the princ.i.p.al object, and confers its character upon the view, to which the river and its banks to the right and left are only adjuncts.

The first grand ma.s.s of rock is nearly insulated, and reminds one at first sight of the keep of some ruined castle. But the Coldwell rocks want no a.s.sociations of the kind: they are fragments of the temples of nature, and have nothing to do with the history of man. To our judgment, the shadowy hollows scooped out of the sides of the precipices, and overhung by foliage, which are nothing more than the sites of _lime kilns_, are more advantageous to the picture than the finest ruins imaginable. They come in without pretence; they make no effort at rivalry; but present the idea of human nature in an att.i.tude of befitting humility and simplicity. "These," says the German prince, "are craggy and weatherbeaten walls of sandstone, of gigantic dimension, perpendicular or overhanging, projecting abruptly from amid oaks, and hung with rich festoons of ivy. The rain and storms of ages have beaten and washed them into such fantastic forms, that they appear like some caprice of human art. Castles and towers, amphitheatres and fortifications, battlements and obelisks mock the wanderer, who fancies himself transported into the ruins of a city of some extinct race. Some of these picturesque ma.s.ses are at times loosened by the action of the weather, and fall thundering from rock to rock, with a terrific plunge into the river."

From Symond's Yat to the New Weir, this _kind_ of scenery continues; although the ma.s.ses of cliff of course change their form and situation.

The river, in a portion of its course, washes their base, at one time an almost perpendicular wall, at another clothed in woods till near the summit, which is seen rising out of the foliage, and tracing its battlemented outline upon the sky. From these two points the distance is only six hundred yards by land, and not less than four miles by water; and the shorter route is in this case the better. On the river, we soon lose the magnificence of the picture; while on sh.o.r.e, there is superadded to this a view of the extravagant mazes of the Wye on either side of the neck of land on which the spectator stands. If it be added that the point of view, Symond's Yat, appeared to Mr. c.o.xe to be two thousand feet high (although this is an evident mistake), it will readily be imagined that this scene is of itself worth a pilgrimage to the Wye. The prospect, comprehending portions of Herefordshire, Gloucestershire, and Monmouthshire, embraces the following objects, according to those who are versed in the local names. To the north is seen Coppet Wood Hill, interspersed with rock and common;-to the north-west appear the spire and village of Goodrich, and, at the foot of the hill, Rocklands and Huntsholm Ferry;-to the west, Hunthsolm, behind which is Whitchurch, and, in the distance, the Welsh hills;-to the south-west, the mountainous side of the Great Doward;-to the south, Staunton Church, and the Buck-stone, upon a promontory; and below, Highmeadow Woods and the river; on the left, the rock of the New Weir, and on the right, the rocky wall of the east side of the Doward;-to the south-east, the village of English Bicknor, a side view of Coldwell Rocks, and Rosemary Topping;-and, to the east, Ruerdean Wood, with the church in the distance, Bishop's Wood, and Courtfield, with the woody ridges of Hawkwood and Puckwood completing the panorama.