Chapter VII: Part 7

<g>The Founders of Raglan.</g>--By Mr. Jones the name of the founder is traced to that of Sir William ap Thomas.[198] This date, however, is too modern, and only a repetition of the conjecture thrown out by Grose. There is every reason to believe that the Clares, as early as the thirteenth century, had a castle at Raglan, the site, of which is now occupied by the Citadel, or Tower of Gwent, erected probably in the reign of Henry V. The above-named Sir William ap Thomas resided at Raglan Castle during the reign of Henry V., who knighted him for his valour in the wars of France. He married Gladys, daughter of Sir Richard Gam, and widow of Sir Roger Vaughan,[199] by whom he had three sons and a daughter. Of his eldest son, William, first Earl of Pembroke, we shall speak hereafter. But of the old military Lords of Raglan, little of historical interest has descended to modern times. From Richard <g>Strongbow</g>, of whom a notice has been given in the preceding sketches of Chepstow and Tinterne, Raglan descended to Walter Bloet, “in consideration of soldiers, money, and arms,” furnished by him for the expedition to Ireland, of which Strongbow was the leader. By the marriage of the daughter and heiress of Bloet with Sir James Berkeley, it passed into and remained in that ancient family until the reign of Henry V., when it became vested in Sir William ap Thomas, already mentioned; whose eldest son was created by Edward IV. Lord of Raglan, Chepstow, and Gower, and commanded to assume the surname of Herbert, in honour of his ancestor Hubert Fitz-Henry, chamberlain to King Henry I. To this nobleman was entrusted the care of the Earl of Richmond, afterwards Henry VII., who was for some time a prisoner in Raglan Castle. Sir Hubert was created, in 1469, Earl of Pembroke, in acknowledgment of his zeal to the house of York; but his career was brief and disastrous, for having the same year raised a corps of Welshmen, he marched against the Lancastrians under the Earl of Warwick, and being taken prisoner at Dane’s Moor, was beheaded at Banbury on the 27th of July.[200] Of these calamitous events, the following account, abridged from the old <g>Chronicle</g>, may not be unacceptable to the reader:--

“<g>King Edward</g> hearing of these Northerne proceedings, and that his brother and Warwicke were preparing against him, sent for the Lord Herbert, whom he had created Earl of Pembroke, to be his general in the North; and therefore accompanied with Sir Richard Herbert his brother, and eighteen thousand well-furnished Welshmen, marched towards the enemy; and after him was sent Humfrey Lord Stafford, with sixe thousand archers, to second him in his warres. These lords meeting together had notice by espials that the Northerne made towards Northampton; to intercept whom, the Lord Stafford, lately made Earl of Devonshire, was employed; and Sir Richard Herbert, who with two thousand horse layd themselves covertly by the side of a wood, and suddenly set upon the rereward, the rest having passed; but the Northerne very nimbly turned about and bad the Welshmen such welcome, as few of them returned to tell of their entertainment. The king understanding of this hard beginning, mustered his subjects on every side, intending to cope with the Northerne himself. And Earle <g>Warwicke</g>, as forward to advance his fortunes, gathered his friends, with purpose to encounter with <g>Pembroke</g> and his Welsh. But before any supplies came to either of them, it chanced the armies to meete unawares upon a fair plaine called _Dane’s Moor_, neere to the towne of Hedgecot, three miles from Banbury, and presently fell to a bickering, wherein Sir Henry <g>Nevill</g>, knight, son of the Lord Latimer, upon a lusty courage venturing somewhat too farre, was taken prisoner; and notwithstanding he yielded himselfe to his takers, was cruelly slaine; which unmartiall act rested not long unrepaied, with the loss of most of the Welsh next day. For the field withdrawne, the Lord <g>Stafford</g> repaired to Banbury, and there took his lodging, where his affections were much enamoured vpon a faire damsell in the inne. But the Earl of Pembroke coming to the same towne, tooke into the same inne, and commanded the Lord Stafford to provide himself elsewhere, contrary to their agreements made before. Whereat Stafford was displeased, and departing thence with his whole band, left the <g>Earl</g> naked of men in the towne, and disabled the field of the archers, whereby the day was lost upon the king’s part, for which he shortly lost his owne head. The Northerne, inflamed for the death of young <g>Nevill</g>, the next morning most valiantly set upon the Welshmen, and by the force of archers drave them from their ground of advantage, which Pembroke wanting supplied with his own prowess; and <g>Sir Richard</g>, his brother, with his poll-axe twice made way through the battell of the Northerne without any mortal or deadly wound; so that by their valours it was verily supposed the field had been wonne, had not John Clapham, an esquire and servant to Warwicke, displayed his lorde’s colours with his white beare, and from an eminent place cried, ‘_A Warwicke! A Warwicke!_’ Whereat the Welsh were so terrified as they turned and fled, leaving their general and his brother alone in the field, who, valiantly fighting, were encompassed and taken, with the death of five thousand of their men. The Earl with his brother, Sir Richard <g>Herbert</g>, were brought to Banbury, where, with ten other gentlemen, they lost their heads, Conyers and Clapham being their judges.

“This second victory thus got, and the Northerne men now fleshed under the leadinge of Robbin of Riddesdale,[201] hasted to the king’s manor of Grafton, where the Earle <g>Rivers</g>, father to the queen, then lay, whom, with his sonne John, they suddenly surprised, and in Northampton strucke off their heads without any judgment. The death of these lords the king greatly lamented, and sought to revenge: first, therefore, writing his commissions for the apprehension of <g>Humfrey</g>, Lord Stafford of Southwicke, who, by diligent search, was found at Brentmarsh, and beheaded at Bridgewater, as he worthily deserved. Next hee prepared a mighty army, and with the same marched towards Warwicke, his company encreasing ever as he went.”[202] In another Chronicle the same disastrous events are thus related:--

“<g>The Welshmen</g> got first the West hill, hoping to have recovered the East hill; which if they had obteyned the victorye had been theirs, as their unwise prophesyers promised them before. The Northern men encamped themselves on the South hill. The Erle of Pembroke and the Lord Stafforde of Southwike were lodged at Banbery yᵉ day before yᵉ field, which was <g>St. James’s Day</g>; and there the Erie of Pembroke put the Lord Stafforde out of an inne wherein he delighted much to be, for the love of a damosel that dwelled in the house, contrarie to their mutuall agreement by them taken; which was, that whosoever obtained first a lodging, should not be deceyved nor removed. After many great wordes and crakes had betweyne these two captaynes, the Lord <g>Stafforde</g> in great despite departed with his whole companye and band of archers, leaving the Erle of <g>Pembroke</g> almost desolate in the towne, which with all diligence returned to his hoste lying in the field unpurvoyed of archers, abiding such fortune as God would sende and provyde.” In the mean time, “Sir Henry Nevil, son to the Lord Latimer, tooke with him certaine light horsemen, and skirmished with the Welshmen in the evening, even before their campe, where he did divers valyaunt feates of armes; but, a little too hardy, he went so farre forward that he was taken and yeelded, and cruell slaine; which unmerciful acte the Welshmen sore rued the next day or night. For the Northern men being inflamed, and not a little discontented with the death of thys nobleman, in the mornyng valyauntly set on the Welshmen, and by force of archers caused them quickly to descende the hill into the valey, where both the hostes fought.”

In this hot encounter, “the Erle of <g>Pembroke</g> behaved himselfe like a hardy knight, and an expert capitaine; but hys brother, Syr Richard Herbert, so valyauntly acquited himselfe, that with his poll-axe in his hand, as his enemies did afterwards report, he twice by fair force passed thorough the battaile of his adversaries, and without any mortal wound returned. If everye one of his felowes and companions in arms had done but halfe the actes which he that daye by his noble prowess achieved, the Northerne men had obteyned neither safetie nor victorie.”

The chronicler then relates the circumstance which threw the Welshmen into a panic, by which they lost five thousand men, and then records the result with touching simplicity:--

“The Erle of Pembroke, <g>Sir Richard Herbert</g>,[203] his brother, and divers were taken, and brought to Banbery to be behedded. Much lamentacion and no lesse entreatie was made to save the lyfe of Syr Richard, both for hys goodlye personage, which excelled all men there, and also for the noble chivalrie that he had shewed in the fielde the day of the battaile; insomuch that his brother, the Erle, when he should lay downe his head on the blocke to suffer, says to Sir John Conyers and Clapham--‘_Maisters, let me die! for I am old; but save my brother, which is yung, lustie, and hardie, mete and fit to serve the greatest prince of Christendome._’

“But Coniers and Clapham remembering the death of the yung knight, Syr Henry <g>Nevill</g>, cosyn to the Erle of Warwicke, could not hear on that syde; but caused the Erle and his brother, with divers other gentlemen to the number often, to be there behedded.”[204]

<g>William</g>, eldest son of this unfortunate nobleman, succeeded to the earldom of Pembroke, and was retained by the king to serve him in his wars of France and Normandy for one whole year, with forty men-at-arms and two hundred archers. But the king, being desirous to dignify his son Prince Edward with the title of Earl of Pembroke, procured a resignation of the same from this William, and in lieu thereof created him Earl of <g>Huntingdon</g>, on the fourth of July, 1479. Four years later he was constituted, by Richard III., Justice of South Wales, and entered into covenants with the king to take Dame Catharine Plantagenet, his daughter, to wife, before the feast of <g>St. Michael</g> following; as also to make her a jointure in lands to the value of two hundred pounds per annum: the king undertaking to settle upon them and their heirs male, lands and lordships of a thousand marks per annum. But this lady dying in her tender years, it is likely that this marriage did not take effect. He afterwards wedded Mary, the fifth sister of <g>Woodville</g>, Earl Rivers, by whom he had an only daughter, at whose marriage with Sir Charles Somerset, the Castle of <g>Raglan</g>, and its dependencies, passed into the family of Worcester.

From the genealogical history of that house we collect the following particulars:--The Sir Charles here named was a natural son of Henry, third Duke of Beaumont, famous in his day for his desperate assault of the Castle of <g>St. Anjou</g>, in which he put three hundred Scots to the sword, and hanged all the Frenchmen therein. He was afterwards Governor of the Isle of Wight, and of Calais; was finally taken prisoner at the battle of Hexham, and there beheaded by <g>Nevil</g> for his adherence to the house of Lancaster. At his death his son <g>Charles</g> assumed the name of Somerset, and being a person of abilities attained to great wealth and honours under Henry VII.,[205] who entered him of his Privy Council, made him Constable of Helmsley Castle, Admiral of the Fleet, sent him as ambassador with the Order of the Garter to the Emperor Maximilian, made him a Banneret, Knight of the Garter, and Captain of the Royal Guard. On a second embassy to Maximilian, he concluded two treaties--gave a bond for the payment of £10,000 in aid of the Emperor against the Turks, and in support of the Christian religion. Living in high favour with his sovereign, his good fortune was established by his marriage with <g>Elizabeth</g>, heiress of William Herbert, Earl of Huntingdon, in whose right, in 1506, he bore the title of Lord <g>Herbert of Raglan</g>.

On the accession of Henry VIII. he continued in the same high offices; and having, with six thousand men, attended the king into France, in 1513, he was present at the taking of Therrouenne and Tournay. For his heroic conduct in this campaign, he received the office of Lord Chamberlain for life; and finally, on account of his descent from <g>John of Gaunt</g>, and alliance to the king by blood, he was advanced the following year[206] to the dignity of Earl of Worcester.

By his will, dated March 24, 1524, he ordered his body to be buried beside that of his first wife in the chapel of <g>Our Lady</g>, now called Beaufort Chapel, in the Castle of Windsor. He directed that, in case he departed this life at <g>Raibo</g>, in London, or near the river Thames, his body should be conveyed by water to the said church at Windsor, as privately as might be, without pomp or great charge of torches, or clothing, hearse, wax, or great dinner; but only that twenty men of his own servants should each have mourning and bear a torch; and that the bier, or herse, should be covered with black cloth, and have a white <g>cross</g> upon it.

<g>Henry</g>, the second Earl of Worcester, who, during his father’s lifetime, had distinguished himself in the king’s service, and been knighted by Charles <g>Brandon</g>, Duke of Suffolk, was appointed one of the commissioners for concluding a peace with the French. Departing this life in 1549, he was buried in the church of Chepstow, where a costly monument--already noticed--was erected to his memory.[207]

<g>William</g>, his eldest son, and third Earl of Worcester, accompanied the Marquis of Northampton into France, to present King Henry II. with the royal insignia of the Garter. And again, in 1573, he was sent by Queen Elizabeth as her representative at the christening of a daughter of Charles IX., on which occasion, in the name of his royal mistress, he presented a font in pure gold. He married Christian, daughter of Lord North of Earthlodge.

<g>Edward</g>, his only son and heir, was sent ambassador to the Court of Scotland, to offer the Queen’s congratulations to King <g>James</g> on his return from Denmark; and ten years later he was appointed Master of the Horse. At the accession of King James, he continued in the same office, and was also named one of the commissioners for executing the office of <g>Earl-Marshall</g>, the Duke of Norfolk being then under sentence in the Tower.[208] He was afterwards Lord Privy Seal; and dying on the third of March, 1628, ætatis 79, was buried in the family vault in Windsor Castle.[209]

In his youth, as recorded by his colleague Sir Robert Naunton, “this earl was a very fine gentleman, and the best horseman and tilter of his times, which were then the manlike and noble recreations of the Court, which took up the applause of men, as well as the praise and commendation of ladies. And when years had abated these exercises of honour, he grew then to be a faithful and profound counsellor. He was the last liver of all the servants of her favour, and had the honour to see his renowned Mistress, and all of them, laid in the places of their rest; and for himself, after a life of very noble and remarkable reputation, he died rich, and in a peaceful old age--a fate that befel not many of the rest; for they expired like lights blown out--not commendably extinguished--but with the snuff very offensive to the standers by.”[210] Sandford describes him as “a great favourer of learning and good literature.”

<g>Henry</g>, his son, the fourth earl, married Anne, daughter of John Lord <g>Russell</g>, heir apparent to the Earl of Bedford; and, in 1642, was created Marquess of Worcester. And this brings us down to the period, when the family fortunes--like the fortress they inhabited--were destined to undergo a lamentable change.

As the civil commotions increased, the Marquess fortified his castle of <g>Raglan</g>, and there entertained his Sovereign with unbounded magnificence. Such were his unlimited sacrifices to the royal cause, that the king, fearing lest the garrison stores should become exhausted by his numerous suite, offered to invest him with powers to exact supplies from the neighbouring country. But with great magnanimity Worcester replied--“I humbly thank your Majesty; but my castle would not long stand, if it leant upon the country. I had rather myself be brought to a morsel of bread, than see one morsel wrung from the poor to entertain your Majesty.” But of this more fully when we describe the royal visit and the <g>Siege</g>.

From these brief introductory notices of the lives and services of the primitive lords of Raglan, we proceed to give a few sketches of life, as it generally passed in the retirement of their own domains, in the midst of their friends and retainers at Raglan Castle.

<g>Baronial Life.</g>--Of the expenses of a nobleman’s family and household in the olden time, some idea may be formed by adverting to the facts adduced by writers of the day. In a letter from the Earl of Shrewsbury, who had the custody of Mary of Scotland, to the Marquis of Winchester, and Sir Walter Mildmay, it is said--“May it please you to understand, that whereas I have had a certain ordinary allowance of <g>wine</g>, amongst other noblemen, for expenses in my household, without impost: the charges daily that I do now sustain, and have done all this year past, well known by reason of the Queen of Scots, are so great therein, as I am compelled to be now a suitor unto you, that you will please to have a friendly consideration, unto the necessity of my large expenses. Truly _two tuns in a month_ have not hitherto sufficed ordinarily; besides that which is sacrificed at times for her bathings, and such like use; which seeing I cannot by any means conveniently diminish, my earnest trust and desire is, that you will now consider me with such _larger_ proportion in this case, as shall seem good unto your friendly wisdoms, even as I shall think myself much beholden for the same. And so I commit you unto God. From Tetbury Castle, this 15 of January, 1569. Your assured friend to my power.--G. SHREWSBURY.”[211]

“This passage,” Mr. Lodge observes, “will serve to correct a vulgar error, relating to the consumption of wine in those days, which, instead of being less, appears to have been--at least in the houses of the great--even more considerable than that of the present time. The good people who tell us that Queen Elizabeth’s maids of honour breakfasted on roast beef, generally add, that wine was then used in England as a medicine, for it was sold only by apothecaries. The latter assertion, though founded on a fact, seems to have led to a mistake in the former; for the word apothecary [from the Greek αποθήχη, _a repositorium_] is applicable to any shopkeeper, or warehouseman, and was probably once used in that general sense.”[212] In the retinues and domestic attendance[213] of the nobles of this period, everything proclaimed that the era of feudal authority and magnificence had departed. Accordingly, when the civil wars had commenced, no peer, however wealthy or high in rank, could drag after him a regiment, or even a company, of unwilling vassals to the field. On the contrary, the meanest hind was free to choose between king and parliament. Something, however, of the mere pomp of feudalism was still maintained in the domestic establishments of the nobility and wealthier gentry. “The father of John Evelyn, when he was sheriff of the counties of Surrey and Sussex,[214] had _a hundred and sixteen servants, in liveries of green satin doublets_, besides several gentlemen and persons of quality, who waited upon him, dressed in the same garb.”

One of the largest, if not the very largest, of English establishments ever maintained by a subject, was that of the Lord Treasurer, the Earl of Dorset,[215] heir of the Lord Buckhurst, and well-known poet of the court. It consisted of _two hundred and twenty servants_, besides workmen attached to the house, and others that were hired occasionally.

The chief servants of the nobility--so they were called, but they were rather followers or clients--were still the younger sons of respectable, or even noble families, who attached themselves to the fortunes of a powerful patron, and served him either in court or military affairs, for which they were allowed separate retinues in men and horses, with gratuities in money, and promises of promotion.[216] The progress of improvement that had banished minstrels, jugglers, and tumblers, from princely establishments, had naturally introduced the drama in their room; and, accordingly, we sometimes find a company of actors classed among the servants of the chief noblemen, as well as a family physician, or even a whole band. <g>A steward</g>, distinguished by a velvet jacket, and a gold chain about his neck, presided as marshal of the household, and next to him was the clerk of the kitchen. But these cumbrous appendages were daily lessening, as domestic comfort came to be better understood. This improvement, however, had commenced still earlier among those of less rank and pretension. All who had their fortune still to seek in the court, or in the army, and all who repaired to the metropolis in quest of pleasure, found, so early as the time of Elizabeth, that the bustle and the scramble of new and stirring times, made a numerous train of attendants an uncomfortable appendage. The gallant, and the courtier, therefore, like Sir John Falstaff, studied “French thrift,” and contented himself with a single “skirted page,” who walked behind him carrying his cloak and rapier.[217]

In consequence of the extravagant living introduced during this period, the spendthrift gentleman often sank into the serving-man, as we may see from the frequent recurrence of such a transformation in the old plays. When servants were out of place--as we learn from the same authentic pictures of the real life of the times--they sometimes repaired to St. Paul’s Churchyard, the great place of public lounge, and there stood against the pillars, holding before them a written placard, stating their peculiar qualifications, and their desire of employment.[218]

“But whatever retrenchment,” observes the same author, “might be making in the household expenditure by a diminished attendance, it was more than counterbalanced by an extravagance in dress, and personal ornament, that had now become an absolute frenzy.” It is said that King <g>James</g> almost daily figured in a new suit, a humour that soon became prevalent among his courtiers. Still more generally influential than his own example was that of his several handsome favourites, all of whom having been indebted for the royal favour merely to their personal attractions, spared no pains nor cost to give those natural advantages their full effect.[219]

When Buckingham was sent ambassador to France, to bring the Princess Henrietta to England, he provided for this important mission a suit of white uncut velvet and a cloak, both set all over with diamonds, valued at eighty thousand pounds, besides a feather made of great diamonds. His sword, girdle, hatband, and spurs, were also set thick with diamonds. Another suit which he prepared for the same occasion, was of purple satin, embroidered all over with pearls,[220] and valued at twenty thousand pounds. In addition to these, he had twenty other dresses of great richness. As a throng of nobles and gentlemen attended him, we may conceive how their estates must have been impoverished by the purchase of chains of gold, ropes of pearl, and splendid dresses, befitting the retinue of such an ambassador. Even a court festival, of the time of James the First, must have made a perilous inroad upon a year’s amount of the largest income. Thus, at the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth to the Palatine, Lady Wotton wore a gown profusely ornamented with embroidery, that cost _fifty_ pounds a yard; and Lord Montague spent _fifteen_ hundred pounds on the dresses of his two daughters, that they might be fit to appear at court on the same occasion.[221]

The following letter--which we quote from a work of great merit and research--unfolds much of the domestic ‘economy’ and habits of a family of distinction during this reign. It is addressed to William, second Lord <g>Compton</g>, by his wife, soon after their marriage:--

“<g>My Sweet Life</g>--Now I have declared to you my mind for the settling of your state, I suppose that it were best for me to think and consider within myself what allowance were meetest for me. I pray and beseech you to grant to me, your most kind and loving wife, the sum of £2,600, quarterly to be paid. Also, I would, besides that allowance, have £600, quarterly to be paid, for the performance of charitable works; and these things I would not, neither will be, accountable for. Also, I will have three horses for my own saddle, that none shall dare to lend or borrow: none lend but I; none borrow but you. Also, I would have two gentlewomen, lest one should be sick, or have some other let. Also, believe it, it is an undecent thing for a gentlewoman to stand mumping alone, when God hath blessed their lord and lady with a large estate.

“<g>Also</g>, when I ride a hunting or a hawking, or travel from one house to another, I will have them attending; so for either of these said women, I must and will have for either of them a horse. Also, I will have six or eight gentlemen; and I will have my two coaches, one lined with velvet to myself, and four very fair horses; and a coach for my women, lined with cloth and laced with gold; otherwise with scarlet, and laced with silver; with four good horses. Also, I will have two coachmen, one for my own coach, the other for my women.

“<g>Also</g>, at any time when I travel, I will be allowed not only _caroches_ and spare horses for me and my women; but I will have such carriages as shall be fitting for all; orderly, not pestering my things with my women’s; nor theirs with either chambermaids; nor theirs with washing maids.

“<g>Also</g>, for laundresses, when I travel, I will have them sent away before with the carriage, to see all safe. And the chambermaids I will have go before, that the chamber may be ready, sweet, and clean. Also, for that it is indecent to crowd up myself with my gentleman-usher in my coach, I will have him to have a convenient horse, to attend me either in city or country. And I must have two footmen. And my desire is that you defray all the charges for me.

“<g>And</g> for myself, besides my yearly allowance, 1 would have twenty gowns of apparel, six of them excellent good ones, eight of them for the country, and six other of them _very_ excellent good ones. Also, I would have, to put in my purse, £2,000 and £200, and so you to pay my debts. Also, I would have £6,000 to buy me jewels, and £4,000 to buy me a pearl chain. Now, seeing I have been, and am, so reasonable unto you, I pray you do find my children apparel and their schooling; and all my servants, men and women, their wages.

“<g>Also</g>, I will have all my houses furnished, and my lodging-chambers to be suited with all such furniture as is fit; as beds, stools, chairs, suitable cushions, carpets, silver warming-pans, cupboards of plate, fair hangings, and such like. So, for my drawing-chambers, in all houses, I will have them delicately furnished, both with hangings, couch, canopy, glass, carpet, chairs, cushions, and all things thereto belonging.

“<g>Also</g>, my desire is that you would pay your debts, build up Ashley House, and purchase lands: and lend no money, as you love God, to my Lord Chamberlain, who would have all--perhaps your life--from you.... So now that I have declared unto you what I _would_ have, and what it is that I _would not_ have, I pray you, when you be an earl, to allow me £2,000 more than I now desire, and double attendance.”[222]

Prodigality in feasting and riotous living soon became as conspicuous as extravagance with regard to dress. In proof whereof, we may mention the ante-suppers of the epicurean Earl of Carlisle. Weldon informs us, that he gave a banquet to the French ambassador at Essex House, where fish of such huge size were served up, and which had been brought all the way from Russia, that no dishes in England could hold them, until several were made for the express purpose. The household expenditure of James the First was twice as much as that of his predecessor, amounting to a hundred thousand pounds annually.[223]

<g>Country Life.</g>--While such were the habits of the courtiers, the country aristocracy still followed that kind of life so much familiarized to our minds by the descriptions in the old songs and plays of “the golden days of good Queen Bess.” The rural knight, or squire, inhabited a huge building--half house, half castle--crowded with servants in homespun blue coats, many of whom were only serviceable in filling up the blank spaces of the mansion; but as these had been born in his <g>Worship’s</g> service, it was held as a matter of course that they should live and die in it.

“The family rose at daybreak, and first of all assembled at prayers, which were read by the family chaplain. Then came breakfast; after which the master of the household and his sons got into their saddles, and went off to hunt the deer, followed by some score of mounted attendants; while the lady and her daughters superintended the dairy, or the buttery, prescribed the day’s task for the spinning-wheels, dealt out bread and meat at the gate to the poor, and concocted all manner of simples for the sick and infirm of the village. If leisure still remained, the making of confections and preserves was a never-failing resource; independently of spinning and sewing, or perhaps embroidering some battle or hunting piece, which had been commenced by the housewives of a preceding generation.”

At noon dinner was served up in the <g>Great Hall</g>, the walls of which were plentifully adorned with stags’ horns, casques, antique brands, and calivers. The noisy dinner-bell, that sent the note of warning over the country, gave also a universal invitation and welcome to the hospitable board; and after dinner sack, or home-brewed ‘October,’ occupied the time until sunset, when the hour of retiring to rest was at hand.

Such was the ordinary history of a day in the country mansion. When the weather prevented out-door recreation or employment, the family library, containing some six or eight tomes, that had perhaps issued from the press of Caxton, or Wynkyn de Worde, was in requisition; and, if the members of the family could read, they might while away the hours in perusing these volumes for the twentieth time. In this fashion, they derived their knowledge of religion from the Bible, and the “Practice of Piety;” their Protestantism and horror of Popery from “Fox’s Acts and Monuments;” their chivalrous lore from “Froissart’s Chronicles,” or, perchance, the “Merry Gests of Robin Hood;” their historical erudition from “Hall” or “Hollingshed;” and their morality and sentiments from “the Seven Wise Masters,” or the “Seven Champions of Christendom.”[224]

<g>Holidays.</g>--In such a state of life the set holidays were glorious eras; the anticipation, the enjoyment, the remembrance of a single Christmas or birthday, furnished matter for a whole month of happiness. On such an occasion the lord of the manor was more than a king, as he proceeded with his family through the crowds of assembled peasants, to witness their games of merriment, and feats of agility or strength; for his smile inspired the competitors with double strength or swiftness; while the prize acquired a tenfold value because it was he who bestowed it. At evening, his bounty was expressed by oxen roasted whole, and puncheons of mighty ale, with which he feasted the crowd; while his house was thrown open to the throng of his more immediate acquaintances and dependents. After the feast, his hall was cleared for dancing; three fiddlers and a piper struck up; and as the “mirth and fun grew fast and furious,” the strong oaken floor was battered and ploughed in all directions by the hobnailed shoes of those who danced with all their might, and with all their hearts.[225]

<g>Such</g> was the life of an old country gentleman when <g>James</g> succeeded to the crown of England. But these habits, the last relics of the simplicity of the olden times, did not long survive that event. Tidings of the gay doings at court, and the wonderful good fortune of the royal favourites, reached the ears of the aristocratic rustics; and from that moment rural occupations and village maypoles lost their charm. The young were impatient to repair to the metropolis; and the old were obliged to yield to the prevailing fashion. With all the fierce impetuosity of novices, rural esquires, and well-dowried country widows, rushed into the pleasures and excesses of a town life; and thus, with a rapidity hitherto unknown in England, and at which moralists became giddy, ancient manners were soon abandoned; fortunes, that had accumulated for generations, vanished; the hereditary estates of centuries became the property of men of yesterday; and the time-honoured names of some of the most ancient families disappeared from the scroll of English heraldry, and soon ceased to be remembered.[226]

When <g>Charles</g> came to the throne, “the coldness of his character and his decorous habits discountenanced those coarse and profligate excesses; and the courtiers endeavoured to conform to something like the rules of external decency. A general sobriety of demeanour succeeded.” “But, as the stern ascetic Puritans grew into power, and advanced to the destruction of the monarchy with prayer and fasting, the court party soon became eager to distinguish themselves by an entirely opposite behaviour. All the excesses of the former reign were resumed; and Charles found himself unable to restrain, or even to rebuke, his adherents, who swore, drank, brawled, and intrigued, to show their hatred of the enemy, and their devotedness to the royal cause.”[227]

<g>Life at Raglan.</g>[228]--Down to this eventful period, the castellated mansion of Raglan had continued to bask in the sunshine of prosperity. Its halls were frequented by the elite of rank and station, and by many of that intellectual aristocracy whose genius threw so much lustre upon that and the preceding reign. The Earl, whose revenues were princely, lived in a style becoming the representative of an illustrious race; and while he observed great state, and gave sumptuous banquets to the magnates of the land, he did not neglect the humble votaries of the Muse.

<g>Household.</g>--The following record is taken from a “List of the Household and method of living at Raglan Castle,” previous to the visit of <g>Charles</g> the First:--

“At eleven o’clock in the forenoon the castle gates were shut, and the tables laid--two in the dining-room; three in the hall; one in Mrs. Watson’s apartment, where the chaplains eat (Sir Toby Matthews being the first); and two in the housekeeper’s room for the ladies’ women.

“<g>First.--The Earl</g> entered the dining-room, attended by his gentlemen. As soon as he was seated, Sir Ralph Blackstone, steward of the house, retired. The comptroller, Mr. Holland, attended with his staff, as did the sewer, Mr. Blackburne; the daily waiters, Mr. Clough, Mr. Selby, Mr. Scudamore; and many gentlemen’s sons, with estates from two hundred to seven hundred pounds a year, who were bred up in the castle; my lady’s gentlemen of the chamber, Mr. Morgan and Mr. Fox. At the first table sat the noble family, and such of the nobility as came there.

“<g>Second.</g>--At the second table in the dining-room sat knights and honourable gentlemen attended by footmen.

“<g>Hall.</g>--In the hall, at the first table, sat Sir Ralph Blackstone, steward; the comptroller, Mr. Holland; the secretary; the master of the horse, Mr. Dolowar; the master of the fish-ponds, Mr. Andrews; my Lord Herbert’s preceptor, Mr. Adams; with such gentlemen as came there under the degree of a knight, attended by footmen, and plentifully served with wine.

“<g>Second Hall.</g>--At the second table in the hall--served from my lord’s table, and with other hot meats--sat the sewer, with the gentlemen waiters and pages, to the number of twenty-four.

“<g>Third.</g>--At the third table, in the hall, sat the clerk of the kitchen, with the yeomen officers of the house, two grooms of the chamber and others.

“<g>Other Officers</g> of the household were--chief auditor, Mr. Smith; clerk of the accounts, George Whithorn; purveyor of the castle, Mr. Salisbury; ushers of the hall, Mr. Moyle and Mr. Cooke; the closet-keeper; gentleman of the chapel, Mr. Davies; keeper of the records; master of the wardrobe; master of the armoury; master-grooms of the stable for the war horses, twelve; master of the hounds; master falconer; porter, and his man; two butchers; two keepers of the home park; two keepers of the red deer park; footmen, grooms, and other menial servants to the number of one hundred and fifty. Some of the footmen were brewers and bakers.

“<g>Out-officers</g> were--the steward of Raglan, William Jones, Esq.; the governor of Chepstow Castle, Sir Nicholas Kemys, Bart.;[229] housekeeper of Worcester House, in London; James Redman, Esq.; thirteen bailiffs; two counsel for the bailiffs to have recourse to; solicitor, Mr. John Smith.”[230]

Among other distinguished individuals, who at this time filled offices in the household of Raglan, was the Earl’s--and soon afterwards the Marquess’s--chaplain, Dr. Thomas Bayly; to whom we owe those amusing “Apophthegms of the Marquess of Worcester,” published at the Restoration, and from which we take the following farce, in the chaplain’s own words, as presenting a characteristic picture of the times, when the Castle had become the scene of extraordinary festivity:--

“I cannot tell whether it was upon the marriage of my Lord Edward Herbert with the Earl Caernarvon’s sister, or the Lord Montague with the Marquis of Worcester’s daughter, that there happened this merrie passage, or mock wedding, as an echo to the voices that were heard in Hymeneus’ chappel, between those lovely couple--think which you please--who had newly left being wholly themselves, by being half of each other; viz., one of those two pair of lovers had no sooner united two hearts into one, and had seated themselves by one of the too many proprieties belonging unto the honourable state of matrimony, viz. the boord; but this Tom Deputy, an old bachelour, chanced to cast his eye upon a pretty piece of waiting-woman, one of the appurtenances to this honourable bride. Her, this jovial Tom, having whetted his wit by the side of the marriage-bowle, fixes upon, being enabled sufficiently thereby to follow any humour, as a fit subject to make their ladiships some sport; which happened to be so suitable to the occasion, and so well performed, that it soon captivated the cares also of all the masculine nobility.

“Thus encountering the faire bride--‘Madam, you have the prettiest piece of necessity yonder, at the side-table, that I know not how any man can be without a wife that may have her for asking. Madam, will you give her me? I protest I will marry her, and fancy myself to be a lord, and herself a lady. “My mind to me a kingdom is;” which shall make her a sufficient joynture.’

“‘Tom, Tom,’ said the Marquess, ‘such men as you and I, whose joynts are enfeebled with the strokes of many years, must not think to winne young maides, by promising to make them joyntures of the mind. But will you make her deputy of Deputy Hall? and landlady of all the land that is belonging to it? and Mrs. of all the stock that is upon the land, and goods that is within the house? Answer me this, and then you shall heare what my daughter and her woman will say unto you.’

“‘With all my heart,’ said Tom; ‘and all the hoggs and poultry that is about the house to boote; and she shall sleep upon six feather beds.’

“‘Why, then, it shall be a match,’ said the lady, ‘with all my heart.’

“‘Give me your hand, madam,’ sayes Deputy; ‘I will have her, if there be no more evills in the world.’ And presently he makes his addresses to the pritty little gentlewoman of the said table; who had heard all the discourse, and was persuaded, then, upon his approach, to answer his humour with a condescention at the first word, and informed that he was an old rich bachelor; he accosting her after this manner--‘This pritty moppit, now thy lady hath given her consent that I shall have thee, if thou saist so too, we’ll be married as soon as they.’

“‘With all my heart, and thank you too,’ said the young gentlewoman.

“‘By my troth, a match,’ said he; ‘give me thy hand--‘tis done. I’ll break such a jest this day as I never broke in my life.’

“‘Aye; but do not break your promise,’ said the gentlewoman.

“‘What! before all this company?’ said Deputy; ‘that were a shame.’

“Up he goes again to the lady, and tells her that they were agreed. My lady drank to him upon the same condition. He pledged her, and wished the wine might be his poison if he did not marry her after dinner. The lady, willing to prefer her woman to such a fortune, held him to his word, and required performance of his promise, giving her many and high commendations.

“Tom went not from any part of his promise, onely the time excepted; and that in regard he meant to buy himself some wedding clothes. The Marquess, willing to remove that obstacle, told him that he thought _his_ clothes would fit him; and bid him goe unto his wardrope, and take what he had a mind to. ‘Give me your key,’ said Tom. It was delivered unto him. Up went he, and then came down with his bever hat, sattin cloke, laid with plush, dawb’d with a gold and silver lace, suite of the same, silk stockings, with roses and garters suitable, inside and outside, capope, all as brave as if he carried a lordship on his back.

“The lady-bride then takes her woman aside, and dresses her in one of her richest and newest gownes--that should have made every day of that week sensible of an exchange--with all things answerable thereunto; not without some store of slight jewels; and brings her down, as glorious as the morne, that breaks from the eastern hill, and chases night away.

“They look upon one another, and all upon them both. Tom cries out, ‘I had best be in good earnest, my lady.’ Said my lady, ‘I thought you had been in sober sadness.’ ‘Neither, madam,’ said the new bridegroome. ‘But, old Tom, I hope,’ said the lady, ‘you will not make me take all this paines for nothing?’ No, by no means,’ saith he; ‘if ever we repent, we will sell our fine cloathes and buy cattle! It is better being a lord for a week, than a slave for ever. Come thy wayes,’ quoth he--

‘How happy is the wooing
That is not long a doing!’

“Well--married they were, in the greatest pomp and ceremony; and the Queen of Beauty took delight in leading the eyes of the vulgar, which by this time were altogether fixed on the ladye of the May. Tom acted his scene of mirth in the hall--which proved to be a thing of that convenience, as if it had been an act of some set policie, to keep the crowd out of the parlour that the masquers might have roome enough to dance in.

“At last, when the masque was ended, and time had brought in supper, the ‘Cushine’ led the dance, out of the parlour into the hall, and saluted the old-new-made bridegroome and his lady, leading them into the parlour, to a table which was furnished with the same allowance that was allotted for all the nobles, where they were soon forced to sit down first--Tom taking upon him as much good cheer as they could give him.

“In fine, supper being ended, the Marquess of Worcester asked the Lady-bride, ‘If she had a hundred pounds about her?’ She answered, ‘No, my lord, but I can send for as much.’ ‘I pray do,’ said the Marquess; ‘but it must be all in gold.’ She sent for it, and presented it to her father; who pulled out another purse of an hundred pieces, and put the two hundred pieces in the bason, saying, ‘Madam, if you do not give earnest, Deputy will tell you in the morning, that he married your woman but in jest.’ Whereupon some gave fifty, others forty; some gave twenty, others ten; the least gave five gold pieces, who sat at the table--in all, £700. The apparel and other gifts, amounting to no lesse a value than one thousand pounds; which so transported the old man, that he protested, ‘that now he was in the humour, he would marry all the waiting gentlewomen they had; one every day in the week, as long as the wedding lasted.’ My Lord Marquess replied, ‘Ay, but Tom, you should have added, “at this rate.”’...

“Not to be too tedious, the man--what with bounty, and what with that which was as free to every man, as was their purses unto him, which was good wine--the man was not himself when he should have gone to bed. Which being related to my lord, his lordship took occasion to tell the company the story of the beggar, who was made believe he did but dreame of the happiness which really happened; and, thereupon, the marquess was desirous to make experiment whether it could be related in the person of old Thomas. In order whereto, he gave command that my friend Thomas should be disrobed of his neat wedding garment, the rest of his fine clothes taken from him, and himself carried unto his old lodging in the porter’s lodge; and his wife to respite the solemnisation of the marriage, until his comportment should deserve so faire an admission--the which was done accordingly.

“The next morning made the experiment to answer the height of all their expectations; for news was brought unto the Marquess--all the rest of the lords and ladies standing by--that Tom took all yesterday’s work but for a dream; or, at least, seemed to do so to humour the fancy.... But I should be endlesse,” says Bayly, “if I should relate unto you the sport that this fellow made.

“To conclude: The Marquess called them both before him, and delivered unto them the money, with many good exhortations to them both, thus moralizing upon the premises”--in a strain very characteristic of that day:--

“‘That which was first in intention, is oftentimes, both with God and man, the last in execution. As, for example, God had, before all worlds, determined to show his love for mankind, by wedding his onely Sonne to his Church; so

Raglan Castle.]

that thus much we have gained already, viz., that the marriage that was made in paradise between Adam and Eve, though it was the first in time, yet it was but secondary to the first intention; and he that said, “Before Abraham was, I am,” was also before Adam was; and though the first marriage was but a type of the second, yet the second, according to the aforesaid intention, was an antecedent to the first. God, who having an intention to wed his Sonne to his beloved spouse, the Church, gave way to this type, or figure, or--to bring the similitude a little homer--mock-wedding, which was between Adam and Eve, whom to make appear more worthy and glorious in the eyes of his beloved, and all other creatures, he arrayed with full majesty, and the robe of righteousness. His mercy--the lady and empress of all the glorious attributes of God--arrais this type and figure of his Church with the robe of innocence, and gives them both a large proportion of his grace. These blessings, Adam, by tasting the forbidden fruit, lost with his paradise, and slept in death. Gentlemen,’ concluded the Marquess, ‘I will not make any application hereof, lest I may seeme to mistrust your wisdomes; but I have nothing to say to the woman.’”[231]

The preceding is certainly a very curious passage in the history of

A potent, grave, and reverend signior.

It reminds one of some parts of Don Quixote and of Rabelais--all but the sermon at the close--which may have been imitated from one of the old “Mysteries” then in vogue. But to these “Apophthegms” and Dr. Bayly, the “martial chaplain” of the household, we may return in a subsequent portion of the work. In the meantime, we shall take a survey of Raglan Castle, as it now appears, and then proceed to a narrative of the Royal Visits.

<g>Architectural Details.</g>--Of the strength, beauty, and attractions of this stronghold--which we are now to examine with some degree of minuteness--a quaint old poet[232] has thus recorded his admiration:--

A famous Castle fine
That <g>Raglan</g> hight, stands moated almost round;
Made of free-stone, upreight, as straight as line,
Whose workmanship in beauty doth abound,
With curious knots, wrought all with edged tool:
The stately Tower that looks o’er pond and poole;
The fountaine trim, that runs both day and night,
Doth yeald in shew a rare and noble sight.

This description, of course, applies to times long before the guns of Fairfax had made a breach in the Yellow Tower; and while the Castle, with all its regal appendages, was the cherished abode of its illustrious owner--a repertorium of the fine arts, and the seat of unbounded hospitality. At no period of its history, however--not even while it was inhabited by worth and beauty, enriched with the precious works of art, and seemed to enclose within its walls an earthly paradise--at no period did it ever present so many features to fascinate the mind and eye of Taste as at this moment.

And “Why is it”--inquires one of the ablest writers of the day--“Why is it that we feel so poetical a sympathy with the great men of ages long past? Why do <g>castles</g> please most when they are dismantled, and palaces when they are in ruins? Why is an old battle-field rather improved than otherwise by a crop of standing corn? Because we can _imagine_ nobler things than we can _see_. Because the heroic deed, not vile flesh and blood, is the impersonation of the hero. We should be rather displeased at meeting the Iron Duke walking to a pedometer on the field of Waterloo. We would doubt whether on the plain of Marathon we could be reconciled even to the ghost of Miltiades. Greatness shines more brightly when it is abstracted from the man.”

We will now, as proposed, take the building in detail, beginning with the grand entrance, and proceeding onward, until we have completed the circuit of the walls, the inner apartments, battlements, terraces, and outworks. On these prominent features we shall dilate with more or less minuteness according to the interest of the subject--but always directing the reader’s attention more especially to those portions which have been chosen as subjects of illustration.

<g>Grand Entrance.</g>--Here a magnificent and imposing spectacle bursts upon the eye--three pentagonal towers, crowned with battlements, and bearing on their mutilated outline marks of the cannon-shot directed against it by the besiegers. These, however, are less defaced than any other portions of the ruin, and are now invested with a luxuriant mantle of ivy, lichen, and parasitical plants, as if Nature interposed to protect the venerable edifice from further outrage and decay. In the gateway are grooves for two portcullises. The two pentagonal towers on the right and left were appropriated to the inferior offices of the castle. Immediately behind these were rooms occupied by the garrison, or household troops. Adjoining these on the right, was the third pentagonal tower, called the Closet Tower; and on the left again were the officers’ apartments, which were demolished during the operations of the siege.

<g>Gateway.</g>--Between the two foremost of the pentagonal towers, above-named, the great portal--a work of imposing strength and fine gothic proportions--opens into the second court. Halting under the archway, the curious visitor will examine, with mingled pleasure and surprise, the fine architectural details; the groined ceiling; its lofty span; its fine proportions, in which grace, strength, and beauty are eminently combined: while the deep grooves, worn smooth by the working of the double portcullis, show how readily this hospitable gateway could be transformed, when occasion required, into an impenetrable barrier, and employed as a destructive engine of war. The old <g>apartments</g> in the gateway tower are correctly represented in the following woodcut--