Descending from this lofty tower, where on festive occasions the family ensign still floats, the contrast between the Natural scenery, which has just faded from the spectator’s eye, and the iron-bound work of Art, forces itself upon the mind, and elicits a spontaneous burst of gratitude that, under the protecting banner of the English Constitution, the peasant is now as safe in his cottage as ever Baron of Raglan was in his Keep; that at last “right” is a match against “might,” and that the strong arm of Justice falls with impartial force on the culprit—whether he be robed in ermine, or clad in hodden grey.
“Yet Barons of the land! to you
A grateful people still retains
Proud memory of the swords ye drew—
The swords that broke a tyrant’s chains,
And planted Freedom on our plains!
For Freedom’s cradle was the Keep,
Her guardians were the Barons bold;
Who placed her temple on the steep,
And on her head a crown of gold;
And cried—‘The deed is done! Behold,
Henceforth our British land shall be
The glorious land of Liberty!’”
The visitor, as he crosses the rustic bridge that now spans the moat, will recall the interesting fact, that this very spot, so to speak, was the “birthplace” of the Steam-engine; a circumstance which, had Raglan no other claim to their notice, must entitle it to a more than cursory observation from all who have an hour to spend within its walls. The spot where it is believed to have been first placed by the inventor—then Lord Herbert—was in a building erected close under the wall of the Keep, where the drawbridge rose; but which has left few or no traces, in shape or dimensions, that are now visible above the moat. It is satisfactory, however, to know that the ground is stamped by tradition as the spot where the noble inventor, during his father’s lifetime, made his first experiments on the uses and powers of steam; and where he probably constructed that “model of his invention,” which he desired might be placed with him in his coffin.
If ancient warriors considered it an honourable distinction to be consigned to the tomb in a full suit of armour, it was excusable in one who had carried with him through life the remembrance of many wrongs, many sacrifices, to desire that, at least, the evidence of one bloodless triumph, one proof of scientific discovery, might accompany him at his final departure from this scene. It was the favourite child of his matured judgment, the result of those scientific researches, after which he had been straining for many years—the mighty consequences of which were dimly foreshadowed in his imagination. It was the reward and consolation of a life of suffering, as well as of science; and there is something both natural and touching in the wish that this model—the only mechanical evidence that told him “he had not lived in vain”—should be deposited with him in the grave.
Some of his commentators have affected to smile at this wish, as evincing a feeling of weakness and vanity on the part of Lord Worcester, incompatible with a philosophic mind. But in this they only allege what cannot be proved; and the charge falls harmless when applied to a man who was—what can never be disputed—one of the most ingenious and scientific men of his day. When Columbus—a schoolboy at Genoa—first rigged his tiny skiff, and sent it dancing over the blue waters, on which it moved like the shadow of coming events; no one foresaw that this mere toy would one day be succeeded by vessels, directed by the same master-pilot, that should throw open another continent to the old world. Nor, while Lord Worcester was squandering much time and treasure, as it was thought, in useless experiments in the Keep at Raglan, did any one imagine that these very experiments were preparing the way for that stupendous power, that should one day give incredible impulse to the arts of civilized life, cross the Atlantic, and traverse the Pacific, with a celerity that promises to unite in one bond of fellowship all the nations of the earth.
It can hardly be doubted that results similar to these haunted the imagination of Worcester, and kept up within him that spirit of discovery which animated him in all his labours, soothed him with the hope of being numbered among the benefactors of his country, and a prospect of that immortality which attends the favoured votaries of science. He may often have indulged the thought, though never embodied in words—and it was a remarkable prediction on the part of him who uttered it long afterwards—
“Soon shall thine arm, triumphant Steam, afar,
Drag the slow barge, and drive the flying car!”
It has been alleged by Desaguliers,[296] that Savary, the reputed inventor of the steam-engine, obtained his notions from the work already named, “The Century of Inventions;” and that, in order to conceal the original, he purchased all the Marquess’s books that could be had for money, and committed them to the flames. Of this, however, we have no direct proof, and Captain Savary must be acquitted; but it is quite certain that, as already mentioned, the original work is so rare, that not a copy is to be found except in the British Museum, and perhaps in the Beaufort Libraries at Troy House or Badminton Park. It is to be observed, however, that no contemporary record exists to illustrate or verify the Marquess’s description of the contrivance, which we presume to call a Steam-Engine; or to inform us where, and in what manner, it was carried into effect. Yet it is very evident from his account, that he had actually constructed and worked a machine that raised water by steam; an operation which was sufficient to produce on the minds of rustics, the effect ascribed to the “roaring of lions,” as mentioned in the preceding anecdote. The Marquess’s description, though short and obscure, would appear to favour the belief, that the force of his engine was derived solely from the elasticity of steam; and that the condensation of steam by cold was no part of his contrivance, but the invention of Captain Savary, who, in 1696—nearly thirty years after the Marquess’s death—published an account of his machine in a small tract, entitled, “The Miners’ Friend.” In these engines—several of which he had erected previously—the alternate condensation and pressure of the steam took place in the same vessel into which the water was first raised from a lower reservoir, by the pressure of the atmosphere, and then expelled into a higher one by the elastic force of strong steam. Steam was thus employed merely to produce a vacuum, and to supply the strength that was applied, for a like effect, to the sucker or piston of an ordinary pump; and it was a great and important step to have discovered a method of bringing the air to act in this manner, by the application of heat to water, without the assistance of mechanical force.
To the simple incident which, during his confinement in the Tower of London, first set the warm and fertile imagination of the Marquess to work on this subject, we have already adverted; and must now turn from the curiosities of science, to such portions or features of Raglan Castle as still remain to be noticed.
The Tilt-yard.—The exact situation of this important adjunct to the Castle is still a question among the learned. By some, what is now called the Bowling-green is described as the ancient Tilting-ground. This conjecture, however, being rendered improbable by a careful examination of the ground, another has been thrown out, namely—the Grand Terrace on the north-west side of the Castle. But this locale is also disputed, particularly by one who is resident near the spot, and fully conversant with whatever has descended to our own times respecting the original plan of the Castle. His opinion is, that the ancient Tourney-field must have been on the outside of the present walls. An experienced officer of the Royal Engineers, who lately inspected the grounds, with the view of ascertaining the exact spot, confirms this opinion; and observes that the Tilt-yard occupied the space immediately outside of the present gate, and enclosed between the two moats which surrounded the gateway. This opinion will probably set the question at rest—particularly as it comes from a quarter well qualified to decide in such doubtful cases—and allow the Bowling-green to retain its hereditary fame and honours.[297]