Raglan Castle.—By those unacquainted with the subject, it has been often regretted that, when prosperity had again visited the family of Worcester, no effort was ever made to restore this castle to something of its original splendour. But the obstacles that opposed such a patriotic design were innumerable; and although the apartments at vast expense might have been rendered habitable, yet the parks, and the timber—the growth of centuries—having all been cut down and swept away in the Revolution, and nothing left but a comparatively bleak and uncultivated waste, the grand ornament of the manor was not to be replaced by the hand of art. Turrets might again multiply along the battlements, and splendid courts be rescued from the cumbrous ruins that had long hid and disfigured them; but trees must be raised by a slower process, and he who should replant the wasted demesne must do so, not for himself, but for the benefit of future generations.
But, in addition to other obstacles that need not here be noticed, the habits and manner of society had become so thoroughly changed after the Restoration, that a feudal stronghold was no longer indispensable for the security and comfort of great families. The military chief had now thrown aside his cumbrous mail, and entered into the every-day duties of civil life; and by improved intercourse with his fellow-men—confidence in the stability of government—a taste for agriculture, and love of national sports and pastimes, he felt his own happiness advanced by the new facilities of promoting that of the people around him. He found that to sleep soundly, required the aid of neither drawbridge nor portcullis. Public order and confidence once restored, domestic feuds, which had so long kept men strangers to one another—except in some field of conflict—were succeeded by family alliances, which united them by new ties of friendship and affection; and instead of mutual distrust and mutual defiance, the nobles of the land were gradually weaned back from an immoderate love of war to the arts of peace, and the practical illustration of loyalty and patriotism. The feudal castle, built chiefly for defence, was now of course a structure of which every one could perceive the comfortless inconvenience. A host of retainers was no longer required either for the safety or the baronial state of the mansion; a new form of society required new and more simple forms of accommodation; and the rural mansion, with its waving woods, gardens, orchards, farm-like offices, well-stocked preserves, and richly variegated lawns, succeeded those stern fortifications within which former generations had maintained their haughty independence—but which, in reality, was little better than “the freedom of a state prisoner”—
“For still the ramparts, tall and grim,
Were barriers ’twixt the world and him!”
Raglan Castle, however—even while occupied as a feudal residence—possessed many advantages over its contemporaries. Its spacious courts, lofty halls, numerous suites of chambers, extensive battlements, ancient gardens, shady walks, and variegated prospects, were luxuries to which few, if any, of our domestic fortalices could lay claim. Within the walls of the castle, the riches of art, pictorial and sculptured, were scattered with taste and liberality on every object that could please the eye or amuse the fancy; while the skill and science illustrated in their arrangement improved the mind, and imparted a classic grace and colouring to the whole structure. Of its luxuries in this respect—in its library, its Gallery of paintings and sculpture—the description of an old poet may be quoted as not inapplicable to the scene presented by Raglan, at the commencement of the seventeenth century:—
State Gallery—looking south.
“For the rich spoil of all the continents,
The boast of art and nature, there was brought;
Corinthian brass, Egyptian monuments,
With hieroglyphic sculptures all inwrought;
And Parian marbles, by Greek artists taught
To counterfeit the forms of heroes old,
And set before the eye of sober thought
Lycurgus, Homer, and Alcides bold—
All these and many more that may not here be told.”
But of all the artificial embellishments for which Raglan Castle was famed, its Water-works—on a most ingenious and expensive scale—are allowed to have formed a principal feature; and these Lord Herbert and the first Marquess appear to have brought to a degree of perfection previously unknown in this country. In their day—long before the name of Cromwell had inspired sentiments of either respect or alarm—Raglan Castle was probably as much distinguished in this respect amongst baronial mansions, as the “Palace of the Peak” among the aristocratic mansions of our own times. During the numerous fêtes celebrated within its gates in honour of the King’s visit, these water-works came in for a large share of royal admiration; and who can doubt that the rushing fountains of Raglan had, perhaps, as soothing an influence upon the distracted mind of the first Charles, as those of Tivoli are said to have had on that of Mecænas, whom the distracting cares of state, as tradition reports, had rendered sad and sleepless? Fresh from the field of Naseby, the sound of welcome that met King Charles at the gate of Raglan, must have been peculiarly grateful to his ear, on which the shouts of loyalty were destined never to fall again with so much truth and fervour. As the equestrian group in the Fountain Court threw up its snowy column during the night, the spray may have reached the very casement of the King’s chamber, and invited that repose which unparalleled reverses had scared from his pillow. If, under the ordinary circumstances of royalty, “uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” his must indeed have been “unrest,” from whose head the crown was so surely but insensibly falling.—These, however, are sentimental conjectures, with which the topographer has little or nothing to do; we turn, therefore, to the subject in question, the water-works of Raglan, and the hero of the scene, the first Marquess, of whom local history reports the following
Anecdote.—At the beginning of the Long Parliament, we are told, certain rustics of the neighbourhood, availing themselves of the prejudices excited against Lord Worcester on account of his creed, presented themselves one morning at the gate of Raglan, and in the name of Parliament demanded possession of the household arms. Apprised of their design, the noble owner met them at the White Gate; and after hearing them repeat the demand for arms, put the question, “Whether, seeing that they had come to disarm him and his servants, they intended also to follow up that act of violence by robbing him of his money and goods?” “No,” said the intruders; “we want your arms, and that only because you are publicly denounced as a recusant!” “Nay,” said his lordship; “I am indeed a peer of the realm, but I am no convicted recusant; and therefore the law cannot in reason take notice of any such thing, much less sanction this violent proceeding.”
Thus checked in their first attempt, the Marquess proceeded to warn them of the danger they had incurred by pressing an unlawful demand; and threatening them with serious consequences, they were well pleased to forego the prime object of their visit, and turning round prepared to retire without further parley. The Marquess, however, seeing their contrition, invited them to enter the gate of the castle, and amuse themselves, in a peaceable way, with a sight of whatever it contained. His design, however, was to punish them, in a manner they little expected, for the unnecessary alarm they had occasioned to the household.