LEOMINSTER,
or Leminster, consisting of one long street. The market-place in the centre, bearing a very old date, and likewise the church, are both deserving of the traveller’s notice. It is situated in a flat, and the country round it is not particularly interesting. From hence a turnpike road, showing to advantage the rich culture of the country, soon brought us within sight of the venerable cathedral of
HEREFORD,
backed by a sloping eminence just rising behind, and beautifully clothed with wood. Being under a particular engagement to meet a party at Ross, to accompany us down the Wye the following day, time would not allow us to investigate this respectable city so minutely as it deserves. Our observations, therefore, were so cursory, that the Hereford Guide must supply the deficiencies in this part of our journal; this neglect the tourist must attribute to our delay at the engaging town of Ludlow.
At Hereford we for some time hesitated respecting the hire of a boat to convey us to Ross; but the exorbitant demand of the boatmen soon determined us to pursue the turnpike road, and follow as near as possible the course of the Wye. The orchards were overcharged with “bending fruit,” and seemed to prognosticate a more favourable cider season than has of late been experienced. The retrospect of the city, with its ancient cathedral, formed a most attracting view; and about three miles a most lovely vale, bounded by the hills of South Wales, arrested our attention. A continuation of the same scenery of orchards, in which Herefordshire so peculiarly abounds, with the road continually dipping into shallow valleys, attended us within five miles of Ross; when, ascending a steep hill, a view of that town, or, rather, of its far-conspicuous spire, broke in upon the reposing character of the scene. This presently conducted us to Wilton bridge, thrown over the Wye; and, leaving the castle to the left, we ascended the town of
ROSS,
to the inn, so celebrated as the original habitation of Mr. Kyrle; more generally known by the name of the Man of Ross. The landlord seems rather to depend upon the custom of strangers, and from this circumstance the inn offers indifferent accommodations. On the bridge we paused a short time to take a view of the meandering Vaga, which here considerably widens. Several pleasure-boats, of various constructions, were riding at anchor, and united to enliven the watery scene; whilst its smooth tranquil surface reflected and reverted every object situated on the banks.
The life and character of Mr. Kyrle has too often been insisted on, and too frequently celebrated in verse, to be again repeated, unless to “point out its moral to the heart;” teaching us that self-approbation can confer an inward happiness superior to all worldly applause; for,
“What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy;
The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy,
Is virtue’s prize.”
Such a bustle pervaded the whole town, of parties assembling here for an aquatic expedition to Monmouth the following day, that with difficulty we obtained a small room. From this circumstance it would be advisable for parties to secure themselves accommodations, during the summer months, a considerable time beforehand; such is the continued assemblage of parties forming for the Wye. A boat likewise should be hired, and by mentioning the number of your party, the landlord will be a proper judge respecting the size. Strangers may pass with pleasure the greatest part of a day in surveying the views in the vicinity of Ross; views which must gratify the most superficial observer, but more particularly from the churchyard. A walk may be preferred through the latter place to the Prospect, so called from the profuse variety of objects in the beautiful and the sublime, which are presented from this spot. The sudden bursts of such a collection of beauties the eye, indeed, cannot contain without gratification. The river below bends itself in the whimsical and fantastical shape of a horse-shoe; this singular wind of the river—the ruins of Wilton Castle—the luxuriant counties of Hereford and Monmouth, and the beautiful Chase Woods, all combine to promote one peculiarly grand and striking effect. To enter into a minute description of objects so various and extensive, is impossible: in fine, to delineate the beauties of the Vaga, with all its accompaniments, would be enumerating every object that is interesting in nature. Having sufficiently contemplated the view from the Prospect, a ramble through the meadows will next prove highly pleasing.
The situation of Ross, though exceedingly beautiful, has nothing in itself to detain attention: the streets are narrow, dirty, and inconvenient. The castle of Wilton, situated on the banks of the Wye, was founded in the reign of King Henry the First: it was formerly a nunnery, from whence the Greys de Wilton derive their title.
Early in the morning we congratulated each other on the favourable state of the weather, and with good spirits provided all the necessaries requisite for our water expedition; the enjoyment of which depends much upon the season. The hire of the boat to Monmouth by water is one pound eleven shillings and sixpence, not including ten shillings for provisions for the men, who likewise expect an additional small sum, after the fatigues of the day. The boat, navigated by three men, will contain ten or twelve people without any inconvenience, and is properly protected by an awning from the heat of the sun. The distance from Ross to Chepstow, by water, is more than forty miles, which strangers occasionally accomplish in one day: but this hurrying method will not allow them an opportunity of inspecting, with proper attention, the various objects which deserve to be noticed; and they cannot possibly find time to leave their boat, and climb the rugged steep banks of the Wye in search of views, which, though visited by the discerning few, yet merit the regard of every amateur of nature’s landscapes. And here it may not be improper to mention, that the boatmen too frequently suffer these most interesting spots to be passed unnoticed by strangers, merely from laziness, or to avoid the delay of a few minutes. Gilpin, in his excellent treatise, Observations on the River Wye, thus analyzes, in the second section, the beauties of the “echoing Vaga,” and divides its constituent parts into—the steepness of its banks, its mazy course, the ground, woods, and rocks, which are its native ornaments, and, lastly, the buildings. To this he might with propriety have added its echoes, the variety of views from its banks, the fishing coracles, which are continually on the river; for all these contribute to form one pleasing and interesting effect.
We embarked on board our boat a little below the town; and the first object which drew our attention was the ivy-mantled walls of Wilton Castle. The annual growth of the few trees which encircle it will in time render it a more picturesque object; it is at present so sufficiently seen from the water as not to require the stranger to disembark for farther inspection. A few yards below we passed under Wilton Bridge, an elegant structure of several arches. From hence, for four or five miles, the banks are tame and uninteresting, and so high above the river as to prevent a prospect of the adjacent country; but a group of cattle, some ruminating on the brink, some browzing on the ashlings which overhung the stream, and others
—“From their sides,
The troublous insects lashing with their tails,
Returning still,”
formed a “rural confusion.” The velocity of the stream shortly brought us to that noble scenery, about four miles from Ross, which so eminently distinguishes and constitutes the beauty of the Wye: before us the noble remains of Goodrich Castle, cresting a steep eminence, enveloped with trees, presented themselves; behind, the thick foliage of Chase Woods closed the picture. The happiest gradation of tints, and the liveliest blending of colours were here conspicuous. On the right hand we landed on the shore, in order to make a minute investigation of the castle: it is certainly a grand ruin, and stands on an eminence, naturally so steep as to render it in former times capable of some resistance against a formidable enemy. On our first entrance into the ruin we naturally indulged reflections on past scenes, contemplated the traces of ancient splendor; and, connecting what remains with what is destroyed, we pondered on the vanity of human art and the ravages of time, which exhibit in this ruin their completest triumph. The warrior who strove to preserve its original grandeur against the attacks of Cromwell is buried in Walford Church, situated on the opposite side of the river, and seen from the castle. The different parts of the building bear evident marks of its having been erected at various times: from a seat in the castle-yard is the most advantageous spot for surveying, in one view, the whole of this ruin: [310] an octagon pillar of light and elegant workmanship, is seen to great advantage through the gateway, and adds considerably to the magnificence of this ancient pile: it now belongs to Dr. Griffin, of Hadnock, the lord of the manor.
To return to our boat, we took a different and more circuitous route, for the purpose of inspecting the remains of Goodrich Priory, now converted into a farm. The chapel has experienced the same vicissitude; and those walls, which formerly re-echoed with the chanting of voices and the solemn peal, now repeat the continued strokes of the flail. In many parts of the walls the initials of names of persons who have long since paid the debt of nature, and left behind no other memorial, are carved with characteristic rudeness, showing to every passing stranger the prevalency of that universal passion—the love of fame. The Gothic windows, and the cross erected on each end of the building, show evident marks of its former purpose. The boat usually meets the passengers at another reach of the river; but it is a plan by no means to be recommended; since by missing a circuit round the castle, its different tints and variety of attitudes, occasioned by one of the boldest sweeps of the Wye, are entirely lost. A short time after we had taken our last retrospect of Goodrich Castle, the spire of Ruredean Church [311] appeared in front, just peeping from among the woody skirts of the forest of Dean; a little below Courtfield House, belonging to Mr. Vaughan, was seen in a very picturesque point of view, with the ruins of the chapel, forming the back-ground. In Courtfield House, tradition reports, the warlike King Henry the Fifth was nursed; and in the church of Welsh Bicknor, situated to the right in a noble amphitheatre enclosed with rocks, first embraced the Christian religion.
A busy scene of craft loading and unloading, and coals shipping for various parts from the quay at Lidbrook, presents a picture of cheerful activity, and forms a pleasing contrast to the quiet, rich, and retired spots we had left behind us: such spots as were well adapted to form the mind of Britain’s glory—the virtuous Henry. The banks now became richly clothed with wood, from the summits of the highest rocks to the water’s edge; and a hill in front, called Rosemary Topping, from the mellow luxuriance of its sides, closed the prospect. Almost every sweep presents a new object to strike the admiration of the spectator; the transitions are sudden, but never so harsh as to disgust. Even the contrast between the embellishments of art we had just left, and the wild rocks which here exhibit nature in her most striking attitudes, gave an additional impression to each other.
We now reached the fine mass of rocks called Coldwell, one of which, Symond’s Yacht to the left, it is customary for company to ascend, in order to view the mazy and circuitous course of the river, and the extensive prospect around. The forest of Dean, the counties of Monmouth, Hereford, and Gloucester, were extended before us, studded with villages, diversified with clusters of half-visible farm-houses; with many a grey steeple, “embosomed high in tufted trees.” In painting the several views from this summit the happiest description would fail; the impression can only be conveyed by the eye. The river here makes a most extraordinary winding round the promontory; and having completed a circuit of more than five miles, flows a second time immediately under Symond’s Yatch. [312] The whole of this mazy course may be traced from this eminence. From hence we discovered a very remarkable polysyllabical articulate echo, and we reckoned twelve distinct reverberations from the explosion of a gun fired on this spot. It is here again customary for the boatmen to impose on strangers, and if they can prevail on them, during their walk to Symond’s Yacht, will take the boat round the circuit of five miles, and meet them at New Weir, in order that no time should be lost; but this laziness we by no means encouraged; and the whole course of this extraordinary and romantic sweep proved highly gratifying. Goodrich Spire, which we again wound round, presented itself: huge fragments of massy rocks which have rolled down from the precipices opposite Manuck Farm, here almost choked up the course of the stream. The changing attitudes and various hues of Symond’s Yacht, lifting its almost spiral head high above the other rocks, as we receded and drew near it, supplied a combination of tints surprisingly gay and beautiful; and having accomplished a sweep of five miles, we reached, within a quarter of a mile, the spot where we began our ascent to this steep eminence.
The view of New Weir next unfolded itself; but a disagreeable scene here generally occurs, and interrupts the pleasure of contemplation: a large assemblage of beggars, men, women, and children, on the banks, bare-footed and scarcely a rag to cover them, followed our boat, imploring charity; and several almost throwing themselves into the water, to catch your money, which every now and then the bigger seize from the less.
But I have omitted to mention, that before we reached the New Weir, the spire of Haunton on Wye, cresting a hill at the extremity of a long reach, and a fantastic barren rock, jutting out from the green foliage which encircles it, presenting itself bold and conspicuous, formed prominent and interesting features in the landscape; this is called Bearcroft, receiving its appellation from the very respectable and learned counsellor of that name. Several rocks, indeed, particularly in this part of the river, are named by the counsel, who have long made it a practice of exploring the rich and bold scenery of the Wye on their assize circuit. Gilpin, considering New Weir as the second grand scene on the Wye, thus describes it:
“The river is wider than usual in this part, and takes a sweep round a towering promontory of rock, which forms the side screen on the left, and is the grand feature of the view. On the right side of the river the bank forms a woody amphitheatre, following the course of the stream round the promontory: its lower skirts are adorned with a hamlet, in the midst of which volumes of thick smoke thrown up at intervals from an iron forge, as its fires receive fresh fuel, add double grandeur to the scene. But what peculiarly marks this view is a circumstance on the water: the whole river at this place makes a precipitate fall, of no great height, indeed, but enough to merit the name of a cascade, though to the eye above the stream it is an object of no consequence. In all the scenes we had yet passed, the water moving with a slow and solemn pace, the objects around kept time, as it were, with it; and every steep and every rock which hung over the river was solemn, tranquil, and majestic. But here the violence of the stream and the roaring of the waters impressed a new character on the scene: all was agitation and uproar; and every steep and every rock stared with wildness and terror.”—The accuracy and elegance of this description, drawn by so masterly a pen, I hope will amply compensate for the length of this quotation. The extensive iron works mentioned in this passage belong to Mr. Partridge.
Below the New Weir a continuation of the same rich scenery still arrested our attention, and rocks and wood seemed to contend which should be most conspicuous; till the winding of the river round Doward’s Rock, on which was formerly a Roman station, brought us under the house of Mr. Hatley, which commands a view of the river as far as Monmouth, when it is terminated by the town and bridge of six arches. As we drew near
MONMOUTH,
the house of Dr. Griffin, situated on an eminence, and a banqueting-room erected by the inhabitants of the place, appeared above the town on the left.
The town of Monmouth lies too low to form a grand appearance from the water, but is, in itself, neat and well-built, and pleasantly situated on the banks of the Wye. As we repaired to our inn, we were both involuntarily led to take a retrospect of the past amusements of the day. The partial gleams of sunshine had given additional tints to the rich and bold scenery, and every thing had conspired to render it a most interesting aquatic excursion. The variety of scenes which Claude would have selected, had he now existed, for his canvass; with rapture, too, would he have caught the tints, and with the happiest effect combined the objects into a picture; kept up our attention, and removed that sameness which too often accompanies water excursions. Such has been the pleasure of our first day’s water expedition; and from the impression it made on us we eagerly looked forward to some future period when we may again retrace views which memory will ever hold dear, and the pleasure be then redoubled with the remembrance of past occurrences.
Opposite the Beaufort Arms, the most convenient inn in the town, is the town-house, handsomely built, with a full-length statue on the outside, facing the street, with this inscription under it: “Henry the Fifth, born at Monmouth, August the ninth, 1387.” On the birth of this warlike and virtuous prince, the charter was granted to the town of Monmouth; it is governed by a mayor, two bailiffs, fifteen aldermen, nine constables, two serjeants, and two beadles. The castle now bears few vestiges of its former grandeur; and of the regal dome scarcely a wreck has escaped, through the long lapse of years, and the ravages of time: where a mighty king once gave audience, and where vassals knelt, now assemble the animate appendages of a farm-yard.
Near the castle is a very antiquated house, now converted into a school, the property of the Duke of Beaufort. To this town Wihenoc de Monemue, or Monmouth, in the reign of Henry the First, brought over a convent of Black Monks from St. Florence, and placed them first in the church of St. Cadoc near the castle, and after in the church of St. Mary. It was among other ancient priories seized by the crown during the wars with France, but was restored again, made denison, and continued till the general suppression in the reign of King Henry the Eighth. [317] From hence we walked to the church-yard; close to which is the room where Geoffery of Monmouth composed his well-known history: this is now a day-school. Monmouth has likewise to boast of a free-school founded here from the following curious circumstance; Mr. Jones, a native of Newland, being in distress, left this parish, and went to London, where he engaged himself as servant to a Hamburgh merchant, and proving trusty in his office, he was by degrees advanced, till at length he attained a fortune of his own. Willing to prove how far the charity of his native place would extend towards him, in disguise he applied for that relief which he was enabled to show towards others; but his parish taking no notice of him, referred him to Monmouth, and would not redress his pretended complaints; the latter, however, being more charitably disposed, relieved him according to his wishes. Having thus proved their generosity, he acquainted them of his real situation, and promised to repay their kindness by obliging them in any demand they should request. On this they solicited the foundation of a free-school, which he immediately built, liberally endowed, and which, from that time, has been well supported. The walk to the Folly, we were informed, would have afforded us some beautiful and extensive prospects; the whole of which information we should probably have found true, but the evening closing, we were very reluctantly necessitated to return to our inn.
Early in the morning we renewed our survey of Monmouth. The church first demanded notice: it is a handsome structure, but the inside offers nothing remarkable for the inspection of the antiquary. The gaol, built after the plan of the benevolent Howard, is situated in a healthy spot; and in every respect rendered as commodious and comfortable as such a place will allow for the unfortunate inhabitants. Monmouth, indeed, contains several good houses, and the neighbourhood is respectable. A bridge at the extremity of the town, with the ancient gateway, bears every mark of antiquity.
The hire of a boat from Monmouth to Chepstow is on the same plan as from Ross to Monmouth, the distance being nearly equal. Nothing now remained but to recommence our water excursion; and we accordingly embarked a quarter of a mile below the town, where the river Monnow joins itself with the Wye; from hence Monnow-mouth, or Monmouth. The weather still continued favourable for our schemes: the banks on the left were at first low, but as we receded from the town, the spire of Monmouth in the retrospect, with the Kymin Woods rising from a rock of great height on our left, under which the river meanders, and to our right Pen-y-vall Hill engaged our attention, and was the bold and rich scenery we enjoyed on our first re-embarkation.
The same scenery of rock, wood, and water, which so captivated us on the preceding day, still continued, occasionally diversified by light vessels skimming by our boat, and increasing in number as we approached nearer the sea. The rude hail of the boatmen as they passed, was re-echoed by the rocks; and the dingy white sails of the vessels, which soon disappeared round some bold promontory, were particularly picturesque. Coleman’s Rocks appeared alternately mantled with underwood and pointed crags; large fragments scattered in the river here divide the counties of Monmouth and Gloucester. At Redbrook Hills, the curling smoke issuing from the iron-works formed a pleasing accompaniment to the scenery, and the whole exhibited a picture of industrious labour. These works belong to Mr. Turner: the wood and meadow-land of Whitebrook Hills were finely contrasted with the busy scene at Redbrook. From hence a long reach, with Fidenham Chase Hill, rising conspicuously in the front, brought us to the village of
LLANDOGO,
diversified with cottages from the base to the highest summit of the sloping eminence. This village is about nine miles from Monmouth, and arrests particular observation: here vessels of considerable burden were loading with iron and other commodities for various ports. The appearance of the river here changed; the translucent stream, which had hitherto alternately reflected, as in a mirror, the awful projection of the rocks, and the soft flowery verdure of its banks, was affected by the influence of the tide, and rendered turbid and unpleasant to the sight.
A turn of the river soon brought us to the village of