The "Ladies of Llangollen" / as Sketched by Many Hands; with Notices of Other Objects of Interest in "That Sweetest of Vales"

by John Hicklin

heard the spirit of that amiable enthusiast, bidding us, like Gesler’s captain, “bow down and honour it.” Seriously, every little particular connected with the history and habits of the departed “Ladies” is so anxiously prized at Llangollen, that we felt very grateful for the prompt kindness with which the present worthy possessors of the unique residence contributed to our information and amusement. We may therefore tell, for the advantage of such of our readers as associate their notions of “old maids” with an affectionate regard for the canine and feline tribes, that Lady Eleanor Butler possessed a favourite dog of the turnspit-breed, called “Trust;” that Miss Ponsonby had a small white poodle, named “Busy;” and that they had a joint interest in a popular cat, answering to the name of “Meggins;” all of which four-footed domestics were especial pets in their garden walks or at their quiet fire-side.

The little domain of Plas-Newydd, if situated in some localities, would be esteemed a miniature paradise, but planted as it is amidst so many scenes of surpassing loveliness, its limited and somewhat formal characteristics suffer by comparison. The arrangement of the ground might have suited the peculiar tastes and habits of the “recluses;” but it is certainly very far inferior to the picturesque effect, which landscape gardening in the present day could there produce. The prettiest portions of these much-vaunted precints are the shady knoll, overhanging a romantic glen,

down which a brawling streamlet leaps its frothing course over a craggy bed; and the rural walk by the gothic fount, into which a pellucid mountain-rill pours its refreshing waters. Among the remembrances of former days, is the effigy of a guardian ‘lion,’ (which, under the name of a ‘bear,’ has been noted by an author whom we have quoted;) the melancholy quadruped is now considerably “used up,” and excites a laugh at the burlesque on the monarch of the forest, which his attenuated figure and shrivelled hide present. Plas-Newydd is unquestionably a delightful residence; and its adjacent pleasure grounds and gardens afford most inviting facilities for those who love to make a practical study of horticulture; to ruminate amidst its tranquil retreats over the published works of some favourite authors; or to “meditate,” like the patriarch, at “even-tide” on the wonders and glories of Eternal Power. Apart therefore from the romantic recollections, with which the singular history of the “Ladies of Llangollen” has invested this fair spot of earth, it presents to the tourist certain attractions, which the reflective explorer of the lovely vallies of the Dee should not neglect. We heard from some of the older inhabitants several anecdotes of the benevolence and charity of the departed “Ladies,” whose memory is most affectionately cherished in the neighbourhood. It has been said that on religious subjects, these ancient friends were divided in opinion; one being a Roman Catholic and

the other a Protestant; but the parish clerk, an intelligent old man who knew them well, assured us that they both regularly attended the services in the Church of Llangollen, and received the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, both there, and at their own cottage during the last illness of Lady Eleanor Butler, from the vicar. With all their eccentricity, their attachment to each other must have been of a pure, unchanging, and fervent character; else would they never have forsworn in the full bloom of youth and beauty, the gay fascinations or the elegant ease of courtly life for the dull monotony of seclusion and celibacy. Both in feeling and intellect, Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby were no common persons; it may of a truth be said of them, that “they lived to a good old age and died honoured and respected;” and if ever the beings of a brighter and holier sphere are permitted to cast back occasional glimpses on the world which they have left, their spirits may sometimes hover over the sacred spot where their ashes repose, and haunt the moon-lit banks of the silvery Dee, in its murmuring current by the lowly church-yard of Llangollen.

VALLE CRUCIS ABBEY.

The picturesque ruins of this venerable structure stand in a lovely and sequestered valley, about two miles from Llangollen, and are approached by as delightful and inviting road as ever rambler need wish to tread. The Rev. John Williams, in his learned description of this ancient monastery, says:

“The abbey was founded about the year 1200, [58a] and in conformity with the rule [58b] of the Cistercian fraternity, was dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. The names by which it was generally known to the Welsh had, however, a particular reference to the locality where it was situated: thus, ‘Monachlog y Glyn,’ ‘Monachlog Glyn Egwestl,’ ‘Monachlog Pant y Groes.’ And in Latin it was called ‘Abbatia [58c] de Valle Crucis,’ and ‘Abbatia de Llanegwest.’

“The remains of the abbey extant at the present day consist of the church, and of a building on the southern side, part of which seems to have formed the Abbot’s lodgings, and part to have been the refectory, with the dormitory above. The church is a cruciform building, of which the northern side has been almost entirely destroyed, and without any vestige remaining of its roof, except in the eastern aisle of the southern transept. In the midst of these hallowed precincts the rubbish is heaped up to a great height, caused, probably, by the fall of the northern wall, and by the remains of the roof:—the pavement, if there be any of it subsisting, is entirely concealed, and ash-trees grow luxuriantly upon the mounds, adding to the picturesque effect of the ruin, but saddening the heart of the antiquary. We are unable, therefore, to determine the number of piers that formed the side of the nave; but from the space between the western end and the central piers, at the intersection of the transepts, we should conjecture this number to have been three, thus making four arches on either side. The choir was without aisles, but each transept had one on the eastern side, which seems to have been used as a chapel. The oldest portion of the church is the choir; the eastern end of which was lighted by three bold and lofty lancet arches, rising from no great height above the level of the pavement to half the altitude of the building, and by two proportionably smaller lancets above. In the apex of the gable was probably a small aperture, but of this no trace remains; the gable is mutilated, and we judge only from the analogy of the western end of the nave. In each of the northern and southern walls of the choir is a lancet window; and two similar windows, but lower in height, occur in each of the eastern walls of the transept aisles. High up in the southern wall, also, is to be seen a small loophole, communicating with a passage which leads over the vaulting of the southern transept aisle to the abbatial building adjoining the church. This passage is now blocked up, but it is conjectured to have served either as a closet wherein the abbot could attend service privately, or else as a place of confinement or penitence for the monks. The architecture of this portion of the church corresponds in its style with the date of the foundation,—the commencement of the thirteenth century: the lancets, with their mouldings, are strictly of that date, and the capitals of the shafts, which are worked with great boldness, are of the late Norman period, rather than of that which is called Early-pointed.”

“Of all that portion of the nave which occurs between the central tower and the western end, nothing remains but the outer wall of the southern aisle; the western end of it, however, still stands, and is a beautiful example of the richest and purest architecture of the middle of the thirteenth century. Over a central doorway, with deeply recessed mouldings and shafts, and with a bold dog-tooth ornament, each projection of which is elegantly carved into four converging fleurs-de-lys, occur three lofty windows, the central one taller than those at its sides—all with remarkably bold splays, both internally and externally, enriched with shafts and mouldings. The central window appears to have been of only one light, though broad, and to have had its arch occupied by a foliation of six cusps, and therefore of seven recesses,—the foliating spaces being solid. The side windows are each of two lights, the principal arch-head being solid, but pierced with a single aperture divided into six foliations. Above these three windows runs a kind of framework, analagous in some respects to that at the eastern end of the choir. The gable is pierced above these windows with a small but beautiful wheel-window of eight pointed compartments, each trifoliated; the divisions being moulded in one order, and converging to a central ring, itself pierced to admit the light. Above all is a square quatrefoliated aperture in the very apex of the gable. On the external face of the western end are two bold buttresses of a single stage, that on the south-eastern side being pierced with loopholes for a circular staircase formed in the thickness of itself and the wall.”

The Abbey of Valle Crucis was dissolved in the year 1535, and is said to have been the first of the Welsh monasteries which underwent the doom of abolition.

Romantic Abbey! hallow’d be the rest
Of those, who rear’d thee in this wild green vale
A temple lovely as the place is blest—
And stern as beautiful:—but words would fail
To paint thy ruin’d glories, though the gale
Of desolation sweeps thro’ thy hoar pile,
And waves the long grass thro’ thy cloisters pale
Where the dark ivy scorns day’s garish smile,
And weed-grown fragments crown thy desecrated aisle.

* * * *

How sweet the sounds!—whose soft enchantments rose
’Mid those wild woodlands at the matin prime—
Or when the vesper song at evening’s close
Wafted the soul beyond the cares of time,
To that Elysium of a brighter clime
Where thro’ heaven’s portals golden vistas gleam,
And the high harps of Seraphim sublime
Came o’er the spirit like a prophet’s dream,
Till faded earth away on glory’s endless beam.

Oft the proud feudal chief, whom human law
Or kingly pow’r could bind not, nor control,
Has paus’d before thy gates in holy awe,
And felt religion’s charm subdue his soul—
The heart that joy’d to hear the savage howl
Of battle on the breeze, has soften’d been—
List’ning the hymns of peace that sweetly stole
O’er this lone vale, where fancy’s eye hath seen
Forms bright and angel-like glide thro’ thy vistas green:

And angel forms here at thy altar knelt,
Fair dames, and gentle maidens whose bright eyes
The sternest heart of warrior-mould could melt,
Soft’ning grim war with gen’rous sympathy—
Pleading, like pity wafted from the skies
To quell the stormy rage of savage man:
And hence the gentle manners had their rise—
Hence knights for lady’s praise all dangers ran—
And thus, the glorious age of chivalry began.

The Abbey derives its name (the Vale of the Cross) from a sepulchral monument commonly called “The Pillar of Eliseg,” which stands on