Complete as the demolition is, there are at least vestiges, even in the most ruinous parts, which explain the original form, and even most of the details of the edifice. The very effects of time, as may be well supposed, are here among the princ.i.p.al advantages. The broken outlines, the isolated columns, the roofless walls, are all adjuncts of the picturesque; but added to these, there are the curtains, the canopies, the chaplets, coronals, festoons, of ivy, mosses and lichens, which give as much effect to a ruin, as rich draperies do to naked walls.

[Picture: Tintern Abbey]

The tiles which formed the flooring have been removed; and a carpet of smooth turf laid down, on which fragments of columns, monuments, statues, and sculptures are scattered. This of course is not entirely the doing of time; but art is not displayed obtrusively enough to offend. A ruined edifice, it should be observed, although this is frequently forgotten by critics, is a work of man and nature _conjointly_; and the traces, therefore, of taste or ingenuity are not to be condemned, as if these were exercised in shaping a cliff or amending a cataract.

Gilpin describes Tintern Abbey as occupying "a great eminence, in the middle of a circular valley;" and another author declares its site, somewhat tautologically, to be a _flat plain_; to which some idle person has taken the liberty of appending this marginal note, in the copy of the work in the British Museum-"Flat plain indeed! It is situated just at the brow of a richly wooded hill!" The truth is, that the ruin itself is not to be entirely depended upon, as it contrives to a.s.sume a different appearance even in respect of position, at every turn. Viewed from a short distance down the river, it actually looks as if standing on an eminence; but on a nearer approach, we find it in reality not greatly elevated above line of the water. It is in fact built at the bottom of the valley, in a spot chosen apparently for solitude and meditation. The solitude, however, it must be confessed is not now so complete as one would wish. The inhabitants of the monastery, it is true, have vanished, but their places have been supplied by poor cottagers, who hide their misery in the very cells of the monks; and, if this were not enough, fragments of the ruin have been broken up, or unearthed, for the construction of other hovels. In the following description will be found the opinions on this remarkable scene of archdeacon c.o.xe, who, together with the less correct, but more _artistical_ Gilpin, have been hitherto the only recognised authorities of the Wye.

"We disembarked about half a mile above the village of Tintern, and followed the sinuous course of the Wye. As we advanced to the village, we pa.s.sed some picturesque ruins hanging over the edge of the water, which are supposed to have formed part of the abbot's villa, and other buildings occupied by the monks; some of these remains are converted into dwellings and cottages, others are interspersed among the iron founderies and habitations.

"The first appearance of the celebrated remains of the abbey church did not equal my expectations, as they are half-concealed by mean buildings, and the triangular shape of the gable ends has a formal appearance.

"After pa.s.sing a miserable row of cottages, and forcing our way through a crowd of importunate beggars, we stopped to examine the rich architecture of the west front; but the door being suddenly opened, the inside perspective of the church called forth an instantaneous burst of admiration, and filled me with delight, such as I scarcely ever before experienced on a similar occasion. The eye pa.s.ses rapidly along a range of elegant gothic pillars, and, glancing under the sublime arches which supported the tower, fixes itself on the splendid relics of the eastern window, the grand termination of the choir.

"From the length of the nave, the height of the walls, the aspiring form of the pointed arches, and the size of the east window, which closes the perspective, the first impressions are those of grandeur and sublimity. But as these emotions subside, and we descend from the contemplation of the whole to the examination of the parts, we are no less struck with the regularity of the plan, the lightness of the architecture, and the delicacy of the ornaments; we feel that elegance is its characteristic no less than grandeur, and that the whole is a combination of the beautiful and the sublime.

"The church was constructed in the shape of a cathedral, and is an excellent specimen of gothic architecture in its greatest purity.

The roof is fallen in, and the whole ruin open to the sky, but the sh.e.l.l is entire; all the pillars are standing, except those which divided the nave from the northern aisle, and their situation is marked by the remains of the bases. The four lofty arches which supported the tower spring high in the air, reduced to narrow rims of stone, yet still preserving their original form. The arched pillars of the choir and transept are complete; the shapes of all the windows may be still discriminated, and the frame of the west window is in perfect preservation; the design of the tracery is extremely elegant, and when decorated with painted gla.s.s must have produced a fine effect. Critics who censure this window as too broad for its height, do not consider that it was not intended for a particular object, but to harmonise with the general plan; and had the architect diminished the breadth, in proportion to the height, the grand effect of the perspective would have been considerably lessened.

"The general form of the east window is entire, but the frame is much dilapidated; it occupies the whole breadth of the choir, and is divided into two large and equal compartments, by a slender shaft, not less than fifty feet in height, which has an appearance of singular lightness, and in particular points of view seems suspended in the air.

"Nature has added her ornaments to the decorations of art; some of the windows are wholly obscured, others partially shaded with tufts of ivy, or edged with lighter foliage; the tendrils creep along the walls, wind round the pillars, wreath the capitals, or, hanging down in cl.u.s.ters, obscure the s.p.a.ce beneath.

"Instead of dilapidated fragments overspread with weeds and choked with brambles, the floor is covered with a smooth turf, which, by keeping the original level of the church, exhibits the beauty of its proportions, heightens the effect of the gray stone, gives a relief to the cl.u.s.tered pillars, and affords an easy access to every part.

Ornamented fragments of the roof, remains of cornices and columns, rich pieces of sculpture, sepulchral stones, and mutilated figures of monks and heroes, whose ashes repose within these walls, are scattered on the green sward, and contrast present desolation with former splendour.

"Although the exterior appearance of the ruins is not equal to the inside view, yet in some positions, particularly to the east, they present themselves with considerable effect. While Sir Richard h.o.a.re was employed in sketching the north-western side, I crossed the ferry, and walked down the stream about half a mile. From this point, the ruins, a.s.suming a new character, seem to occupy a gentle eminence, and impend over the river without the intervention of a single cottage to obstruct the view. The grand east window, wholly covered with shrubs, and half mantled with ivy, rises like the portal of a majestic edifice embowered in wood. Through this opening and along the vista of the church, the cl.u.s.ters of ivy, which twine round the pillars or hang suspended from the arches, resemble tufts of trees; while the thick mantle of foliage, seen through the tracery of the west window, forms a continuation of the perspective, and appears like an interminable forest."

The reputation of Tintern Abbey depends upon no historical a.s.sociations.

The romance of its situation is heightened by no romance of incident. It is simply a part of a picture, and might be ent.i.tled in the catalogue of a gallery "an abbey." The sepulchral remains it holds retain neither name nor date; and one of the most entire of the figures (supposed to be the effigies of the founder of the monastery, which, however, must be looked for at Gloucester, where according to Leland he was buried) is disputed the possession of the usual number of fingers on the right hand; one antiquary, hesitating between four and five, and another according to it, more generously, five fingers-and a thumb! In no part of the country has this means of prolonging fame been more constantly resorted to than in Monmouthshire; but unfortunately, owing to its geographical position as a frontier district, in no part of the country has the object been more frequently defeated. As a solitary instance of this among thousands, we are tempted to quote a fragment which just now catches our eye, from the rhymes of _Churchyarde_ (a most suitable name), and the rather that it exhibits the poet of the "Worthines of Wales" in a more poetical light than usual. He is describing the tombs in the church of Abergavenny; and after noting the arms and other particulars, proceeds-

"But note a greater matter now, Upon his tomb in stone, Were fourteene lords that knees did bow Unto this lord alone.

Of this rare work a porch is made, The barrons there remaine In good old stone, and auncient trade, To show all ages plaine, What honour wa.s.s to Hastings due, What honour he did win: What armes he gave, and so to blaze What lord had Hastings bin."

But alas for the frailty of fame even so secured! The dilapidated monument laughed in the unconscious rhymer's face through the rents of time; the princ.i.p.al effigies had been removed to a window, and several of the "fourteene lords" placed in a porch; and the very name of him whose memory the whole had been intended to perpetuate, had become a matter of doubt and controversy! "Some say this great lord was called Bruce and not Hastings, but most do hold opinion he was called Hastings!"

It may seem almost superfluous to give any further evidence respecting the picturesque character of Tintern Abbey; but as we design this volume not merely to act the part of a sign-post, but to save the common reader the trouble of reference, we shall add two other quotations.

"It would be difficult to imagine a more favourable situation, or a more sublime ruin. The entrance to it seems as if contrived by the hand of some skilful scene-painter to produce the most striking effect. The church, which is large, is still almost perfect; the roof alone, and a few of the pillars, are wanting. The ruins have received just that degree of care which is consistent with the full preservation of their character; all unpicturesque rubbish which could obstruct the view is removed, without any attempt at repair or embellishment. A beautiful smooth turf covers the ground, and luxuriant creeping plants grow amid the stones. The fallen ornaments are laid in picturesque confusion, and a perfect avenue of thick ivy-stems climb up the pillars, and form a roof over head. The better to secure the ruin, a new gate of antique workmanship, with iron ornaments, is put up. When this is suddenly opened, the effect is most striking and surprising. You suddenly look down the avenue of ivy-clad pillars, and see their grand perspective lines closed, at a distance of three hundred feet, by a magnificent window eighty feet high and thirty broad: through its intricate and beautiful tracery you see a wooded mountain, from whose side project abrupt ma.s.ses of rock. Over head the wind plays in the garlands of ivy, and the clouds pa.s.s swiftly across the deep blue sky. When you reach the centre of the church, whence you look to the four extremities of its cross, you see the two transept windows nearly as large and beautiful as the princ.i.p.al one; through each you command a picture totally different, but each in the wild and sublime style which harmonises so perfectly with the building. Immediately round the ruin is a luxuriant orchard. In spring, how exquisite must be the effect of these grey venerable walls rising out of that sea of fragrance and beauty!"

The other extract belongs to the cla.s.s sentimental, and is not a description of Tintern Abbey, but of the mood of mind to which it disposes.

"The great tree, or vegetable rock, or emperor of the oaks (if you please), before which I bowed with a sort of reverence in the fields of Tintern, and which for so many ages has borne all the blasts and bolts of heaven, I should deem it a gratification of a superior kind, to approach again with 'unsandaled feet' to pay the same homage, and to kindle with the same devotion. But I should find amidst the magnificent ruins of the adjoining abbey, something of a sublime cast, to give poignancy to my feelings. I must be alone. My mind must be calm and pensive. It must be midnight. The moon, half veiled in clouds, must be just emerging from behind the neighbouring hills. All must be silent, except the winds gently rushing among the ivy of the ruins. I should then invoke the ghosts of the abbey; and fancy, with one stroke of her magic wand, would rouse them from their dusty beds, and lead them into the centre of the ruin. I should approach their shadowy existences with reverence, make inquiries respecting the manners and customs, and genius and fate of antiquity, desire to have a glimpse of the destiny of future ages, and enter in conversations which would be too sacred, and even dangerous to communicate."

The only event unconnected with the monastery which is a.s.signed to this locality is a _battle_. Whether it was fought on the hills above, or whether the demon of war actually intruded within the charmed circle of Tintern-or whether the whole is a fable, invented for the express purpose of desecrating the very idea of the place-we cannot tell. But however this may be, the fact, or the falsehood, is commemorated in the following epitaph, which is placed on the north side of the chancel of the church of Mathern.

Here lyeth entombed the body of Frederic, King of Morganoch or Glamorgan, commonly called St. Thewdrick, and accounted a martyr, because he was slain in a battle against the Saxons, being then Pagans, and in defence of the Christian religion. The battle was fought at Tintern, when he obtained a great victory. He died here being in his way homeward, three days after the battle, having taken order with Maurice his son, who suc- ceeded him in the kingdom, that in the same place he should happen to decease, a church should be built, and his body buri- ed in ye same, which was accordingly performed in the year 1601.

CHAPTER XII.

The Wye below Tintern-Banagor Crags-Lancaut-Piercefield Bay-Chepstow-Ancient and modern bridge-Chepstow Castle-Roger de Britolio-Romance of history-Chepstow in the civil wars-Marten the regicide.

The Wye being now a tide river, time requires to be studied by the traveller who would see it in its beauty or grandeur. The sh.o.r.es must be hidden by the full stream, and the overhanging woods fling their shadow as before over the glancing waters. Some bargain for the moon, to silver the tree tops, and send her angel-visitings through the vistas of foliage. But the truth is, before reaching this point we have become the spoiled children of nature; we have grown fastidious in our admiration, and would criticise perfection itself.

With the one drawback of the sludginess of the sh.o.r.es at ebb water, the Wye below Tintern is as worthy of our homage as ever. But it may be, that the romance of its rocks and woods impending over the current, and the deep stillness of the scene, broken only by the rippling sound of its flow, may harmonize _too_ closely with the holy solitude we have left.

Our sensations are uninterrupted; we carry with us the ruins and their a.s.sociations; the mouldering abbey glides upon the stream before us; and the recesses of the rocks, and deep paths of the woods, are peopled with the spectres of the monastery. Thus we have no new impressions to mark our progress, and one of the finest parts of the river escapes almost without notice.

There is notwithstanding much variety in this part of our course. The reaches are short; the banks steep, sometimes overhanging in naked precipices, sometimes waving with romantic woods; while numerous narrow promontories intercept the view, and cut the scene into separate pictures. Banagor Crags, on the left, form a stupendous wall of cliff, extending for a considerable distance, without presenting anything in themselves to relieve the eye, except here and there some recesses or small shrubs, painting their interstices. But, as if aware of the disadvantage even of a sublime uniformity, nature has spread upon the opposite side a scene incomparable for richness and variety. A bright green sward, broken into narrow patches, swells upwards from the water's edge, till it is lost in acclivities mantled with woods; and rising from the ridge of these, a ma.s.s of perpendicular rock towers aloft to the height, as it is computed, of eight hundred feet, overhung with s.h.a.ggy thickets.

We now turn the peninsula of Lancaut, which comes sloping down from Tiddenham Chase, till it terminates in fertile meadows; and, on the right, rise from the water's edge, with a kind of fantastic majesty, the Piercefield cliffs, capped with magnificent woods. Twelve projecting ma.s.ses of these rocks have received the names of the twelve apostles, and a thirteenth is called St. Peter's Thumb. While wondering where this will end, we sweep round another point, and find ourselves in Piercefield Bay. To the right a line of perpendicular cliffs is still seen, but crowned instead of trees with an embattled fortress; which, for a moment, might seem to have been cut out of the rock. The view is closed by a range of red cliffs, with the magnificent iron bridge of Chepstow spanning the river. This is the last of the great views _on_ the Wye; and if seen under favorable circ.u.mstances of time and tide, it is one of the finest.

[Picture: Chepstow]

Chepstow stands on the side of an acclivity, overlooked itself on all sides by loftier hills, so that from every part of the town a different view is obtained. Approaching it from the road which leads from the New Pa.s.sage, this position, owing to the singularity of a part of the higher ground, gives the scene a very peculiar appearance. Nothing is seen but the red cliffs of the Wye, and the tall masts of the shipping rising among them; and it is not till close at hand that the houses appear, shelving down to the river. Archdeacon c.o.xe observes, that he has seldom visited any town whose picturesque situation surpa.s.sed that of Chepstow; and according to Mr. Wyndham, another traveller in this district, "the beauties are so uncommonly excellent, that the most exact critic in landscape would scarcely wish to alter a position in the a.s.semblage of woods, cliffs, ruins, and water." Among these features, the Wye and its banks are conspicuous. The ridge of cliff on the left bank below the bridge is remarkable both for its form and variety of colouring; while, on the opposite bank above, the gigantic remains of the castle, stretching along the brink of the precipice, give an air of romance to the picture, not frequently found in one of the crowded haunts of men.

The bridge is of cast iron, and was completed only in 1816. There are five arches, resting on stone piers; but although in reality a ma.s.sive structure, it has the air of lightness, when viewed from the river, which iron bridges usually possess. The old bridge was formerly composed of a level floor, carried along wooden piers, except in the centre, where a ma.s.sive pillar of stone, dividing Gloucester and Monmouth, was the support. Afterwards, however, stone piers were subst.i.tuted for those on the Monmouth side, before the two counties joined in the erection of the present n.o.ble structure.

"According to tradition," says Mr. c.o.xe, "the bridge of the Wye was formerly half a mile above the present bridge, at a place called Eddis, nearly opposite to the alcove in Piercefield grounds, and seemingly in a direction leading towards an ancient encampment which encircles the grotto. The remains of the abutments are said to have been visible in the memory of some of the present generation; and the vestiges of a pitched road were recently found in digging near the spot. I walked to the spot, but could not discern the smallest traces of the ancient bridge, and the ground on which the pitched road was discovered was planted with potatoes. I was, however, amply gratified for my disappointment by the pleasantness of the walk by the side of the river, the beauty of the hanging woods of Piercefield, and the picturesque appearance of the castle."

The castle of Chepstow is said by some antiquaries, to have been built originally by Julius Caesar; which is denied by others, on the reasonable grounds, that Julius Caesar never was there, and that Roman reliques, although abundant in the neighbourhood, have never been discovered in the town. However this may be, the name by which it is at present known, is Saxon, and denotes a place of traffic; and Leland traces at least its prosperity to its situation being favourable for commerce. "The towne of Chepstowe," says he, "hath been very strongly walled, as yet well doth appere. The walles began at the grete bridge, over the Wy, and so came to the castel; the which yet standeth fayer and strong, not far from the ruin of the bridge. A grete lykelyhood ys, that when Carguen began to decay, then began Chepstow to flourish, for yt standeth far better, as upon Wy there ebbing and flowing, by the Rage coming out of the Severn, so that to Chepstowe may come grete shippes."

The castle, as we have said, crowns the brow of a precipice, forming here the right bank of the Wye; and its walls, on the northern side, are so close to the edge as to seem nothing more than a prolongation of the rock. The rest of the fortress was defended by a moat and its own lofty towers.

The area was divided into four courts. The first, which is entered by a Norman gateway, contained the grand hall, the kitchen, and other apartments, on a scale of considerable grandeur. At the south-eastern angle of this court is the keep, or citadel, now called Harry Marten's Tower. The second court contains no architectural remains, except the walls; but in the third is a remarkable building, usually designated as the chapel. It seems to have formed one magnificent apartment, probably with a gallery running along the sides. The fourth court was separated from the rest by a moat, which was crossed by a drawbridge. Whether a former building stood here or not, William Fitzosborn, earl of Hereford, is said in Domesday Book to have built the castle of Chepstow. It was inherited by his third son Roger de Britolio, who was deprived of his estates, and condemned to perpetual imprisonment for rebellion. The fierce character of this Norman baron is well ill.u.s.trated in the following anecdote preserved by Dugdale.

"Though he frequently used many scornful and contumelious expressions towards the king, yet he was pleased, at the celebration of the feast of Easter in a solemn manner (as was then used), to send to this earl Rodger, at that time in prison, his royal robes, who so disdained the favour, that he forthwith caused a great fire to be made, and the mantle, the inner surcoat of silk, and the upper garment, lined with precious furs, to be suddenly burnt. Which being made known to the king, he became not a little displeased, and said, '_Certainly he is a very proud man who has thus abused me_; _but_, _by the brightness of G.o.d_, _he shall never come out of prison as long as I live_.'

Which expression was fulfilled to the utmost, for he never was released during the king's life, nor after, but died in prison."

In the reign of Henry I., we find Chepstow in the possession of the Clare family; of whom Richard de Clare, surnamed, like his father, Strongbow, is famous for his Irish adventures. 'At the solicitation of Dermot Macnagh, king of Leinster, who had been dethroned by his rival Roderic the Great, king of Connaught (for there were then five kings in Ireland), he proceeded to that country with twelve hundred men, to espouse the cause of the unfortunate potentate: being offered, in the spirit of the age, his daughter for a wife, and his kingdom for an inheritance.

Strongbow landed at Waterford in 1171; married the princess; and his father-in-law dying at the very moment demanded by poetical justice, conquered his promised kingdom, and took possession of Dublin the capital. The romance, however, was spoiled by Henry II., who, in high dudgeon at this presumption of a subject, confiscated his estates, and carried an army over to Ireland, with the purpose of annexing Leinster to the English crown. Strongbow submitted; abandoned Waterford and Dublin to his feudal master; was restored to his estates, and made constable of Ireland. His character is thus described by Giraldus Cambrensis:

"This earle was somewhat ruddie and of sanguine complexion and freckle face, his eyes greie, his face feminine, his voice small, and his necke little, but somewhat of high stature: he was verie liberall, corteous, and gentle; what he could not compa.s.s or bring to pa.s.se in deed, he would win by good word and gentle speeches. In time of peace he was more redie to yield and obeie than rule and beare swaie. Out of the campe he was more like to a souldier companion than a captaine or ruler; but in the camp and in the warres he carried with him the state and countenance of a valiante captaine.

Of himselfe he would not adventure anie thing; but being advised and set on, he refused no attempts; but for himselfe he would not rashlie adventure or presumptuouslie take anie thing in hand. In the fighte and battell he was a most a.s.sured token and signe to the whole companie, either to stand valiante to the fight, or for policie to retire. In all chances of warre he was still one and the same manner of man, being neither dismaied with adversitie, or puffed up with prosperitie."

By the marriage of a daughter of Richard Strongbow (who had no male issue) our castle next came into the hands of one of the greatest men of his time, William, marshal of England, lord protector of the kingdom; and by the marriage of his daughter (for although he had five sons they all died without issue), it fell to Hugh BiG.o.d, earl of Norfolk. This daughter was Maud, remarkable for having been in her widowhood created _marshal_ in virtue of her descent, the king himself, Henry III., solemnly giving the truncheon into her hands. She was buried in Tintern Abbey in 1248, her body being carried into the choir by her four sons.

After changing hands several times, Chepstow Castle appears to have been _sold_ to the earl of Pembroke; whose heiress Elizabeth conveyed it by marriage, as we have already had occasion to relate, to Sir Charles Somerset, afterwards earl of Worcester. Churchyarde mentions the fact of the sale in his uncouth rhymes.

"To Chepstowe yet, my pen agayne must pa.s.se, When Strongbow once (an earl of rare renown), A long time since, the lord and maister was (In princly sort) of casle and of towne.

Then after that, to Mowbray it befell, Of Norfolke duke, a worthie known full well; Who sold the same to William Harbert, knight, That was the earle of Pembroke then by right."

During the civil wars, this place was considered of great importance.

"At first, Chepstow was garrisoned for the king, until in 1645, Colonel Morgan, governor of Gloucester, at the head of three hundred horse and four hundred foot, and a.s.sisted by the mountaineers, with little difficulty made himself master of the town, and in a few days compelled the governor, Colonel Fitzmorris, to surrender the castle.

But the castle was afterwards surprised by the loyalists, under Sir Nicholas Hemeys, who, in the absence of the governor, by means of a secret correspondence, obtained possession of the western gate, and made the garrison prisoners of war. On this event Cromwell marched against it in person, took possession of the town, but a.s.sailed the castle without success, though garrisoned only by a hundred and sixty men. He then left Colonel Ewer, with a train of artillery, seven companies of foot, and four troops of horse, to prosecute the siege.