The Outworks of the Castle are extensive, and worthy appendages to what is considered “a perfect model of a Norman Baron’s residence,” the general characteristics of which were the following:—The simple rude tower of the Anglo-Saxon was enlarged and improved into what, taking its name from the builder, was called a Gundulph Keep, the entrance to which was at a great height. It was approached by a grand staircase, which went partly round two of the outside fronts of the Castle, and ended in a grand portal, before which was a drawbridge. The entrance was indispensably gradual. The first step in advance was the drawbridge, with a gate about the middle of the staircase, to arrive at the portal. Secondly, upon arriving at this point, you found it merely the entrance to a small annexed tower, the whole of which might be demolished without injury to the body of the Castle. This tower was for the use of the guard or sentinel. Within this tower was a sort of vestibule, and from thence was a second entrance—the real entrance to the Keep—through a second portal, placed in the thickness of the walls. Both the first and second portals were defended by a portcullis and double gates; so that there were three strong gates to be forced, and two portcullises to be destroyed, before even this entrance could be gained. In the thickness of the wall were two niches, in addition to the second portal, for wardours or sentinels. Besides this, there was the sally-port, another small entrance—ascended only by a movable ladder—which had no communication with the floor above, except by a “small winding staircase, that, from its narrowness and form, could easily be defended by one man, and to which additional security was provided by strong doors. On the

Ground floor—as already observed in this Castle—there were no windows, very few loopholes, and those so constructed that no missile thrown in could reach farther than the bottom of the arch. In the first floor there were no windows, but only loopholes within the tower itself. In the second floor the windows were so high that no weapon discharged into them could take effect, as it struck the arch of the window, and dropped harmless on the floor. On the side near the principal entrance there were no windows nor lights whatever—not even loopholes on the same side as the entrance and top of the staircase, because, if so placed, they would have been exposed to an enemy who, having once gained the steps, was attempting to force the portal. In

The Vestibule were large windows, because—as the author of the “Monumenta” supposes—that place was of no importance in a siege: but this opinion is considered by others to be untenable. A full command of view was here indispensable; and that this was the object may be inferred from the loopholes and windows being in an inverted order to what they are in the great one, and from the vestibule being immediately over the dungeon, so that, on any attempt at attack, escape or rescue would be detected. On the

Third story, which contained the state apartments, there was a gallery within the walls for the conveyance of orders. Mr. King, in his description of fortified buildings, has noticed a stone arch and false portals, a round angular tower, and an affected appearance of weakness in the small square tower and vestibule, as deceptions to mislead the enemy. But this, as observed by Fosbroke, is questionable; for such expedients do not occur in all castles of this era—and, had they been usual, must have been too well known to mislead the enemy. The lower apartments of these strongholds were reserved as storerooms for the use of the household and retainers.

The Dungeon, for the security of prisoners, was beneath the ground floor of the Keep, with which it communicated by a steep, dark, and narrow staircase. It had, of course, no windows nor loopholes; and the only aperture for the admission of air was a trap-door in the vestibule. A gutter carried off water from the floor, which, for this purpose, was made sloping towards it.

In the centre of the main walls were square wells, opening at bottom into arches, for the removal and distribution of stores to the upper apartments; and through the solid walls, also, flues were perforated for the conveyance of information by the voice. And these contrivances, with considerable improvements, continue in our own times to facilitate domestic intercourse in large establishments. In the centre of the partition wall—as seen at Rochester[394]—was a well for water—like the shaft of a coal pit—going from the bottom of the tower up to the very leads; and over every successive floor were small arches in the wall, forming a communication between the pipe of the well and the several apartments, so that, by means of a pulley, water could be distributed to every part of the Castle. The fireplaces in general were semicircular arches—as already shown and described in this work. The chimneys were in the form of a sloping cone, and terminated in loopholes. In some instances, as at Chepstow, they were covered internally with a hard glazing of cement, so as to prevent the accumulation and lodgment, and facilitate the removal, of fuliginous matter on the surface. The great chimney of Raglan Castle is a fine specimen of its kind, and so capacious as to appear like the perpendicular shaft of a deep well. The sinks are similar cones, but ending sideways, obliquely, to prevent the introduction of weapons. The great state apartments of the Castle consisted of three rooms: of these, the two principal ones were separated only by large arches, open at the top, so that there might be a free circulation of air; but under the arch was a partition wall, in later times of oak-panelling, for hanging the arras.

Such are a few of the characteristic features of a Norman fortress of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries—the model upon which the great castles of Wales were constructed by Edward the First—of which various particulars have been already given, and others will be found interspersed in subsequent portions of this work.

While wandering over the ruins of these dilapidated strongholds, of whose founders it may here be truly said—stat nominis umbra, we are humbled into a sense of the vain and fragile tenor by which all earthly possessions are held. “There the thistle shakes its lonely head; the moss whistles to the winds; the fox looks out from the windows, the rank grass of the wall waves round his head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina; silence is in the house of her fathers.”

“Thrice happier he who tends his sheep
Where yonder lowly cot appears;
Than Baron in his iron Keep,
Encircled by his glittering spears.”

The Church of Manorbeer stands upon a high slope, fronting the south side of the Castle, and forms an interesting feature in the landscape. It is of Norman architecture, consisting of a tall square tower, chancel, and nave, divided by a row of massive and rudely-fashioned pillars. In the north side of the chancel is the monument of a Crusader—one of those enthusiastic knights, perhaps, who, having heard the preaching of Archbishop Baldwin, obeyed the summons and followed his lion-hearted Sovereign to the Holy Land. The effigy, reposing under a plain canopy, represents a warrior in ring and plate armour, the legs croisés, and the shield charged with the Barri arms. An effigy is also pointed out on the same side as that of Giraldus Cambrensis, or Barri, whose life and literary merits we have so often had occasion to notice. On the south side of the church are the remains of a “Chantry or Collegiate building,” erected probably by one of the Barri family, who, in 1092, joined Fitz-Hamon in his marauding enterprise against a native prince of the country, and afterwards, as we have seen, divided the conquered land, in Seigneuries, among his twelve knights and retainers.