Quitting Hadnock, we are gratified with a distant view of the bridge and town of Monmouth. The solitary church of Dixton on the opposite bank of the river, although deficient in accompaniments is yet a characteristic and interesting feature in the fore ground of the landscape; and it continues to be such, though since this drawing was executed, its interior received in the great flood in 1795 very material injury; the water having forced its way through the windows and doors, and torn up pulpit, pews and pavement.

Monmouth bridge is of stone, and consists of six irregular arches. The town derives its name from its situation at the conflux of the Wye and Mynwye, generally, and by the Welsh particularly pronounced Monnow.

A great part of Monmouth is encompassed by this river which empties itself into the Wye at the lower end of the town; where a very ancient bridge and gateway, formerly a barrier against the Welsh, is thrown across this mountain stream. It is somewhat extraordinary, that neither history or tradition, although they are both mentioned by Leland in his itinerary, afford any information as to the period in which they were built. Independent however of historical evidence, they bear such unequivocal marks of antiquity, that the picturesque effect they produce, gives them ample claim to a place in this work. The annexed plate will we flatter ourselves, convey a faithful representation of this venerable remain, and in some degree illustrate the situation of the town itself; which though low, is seated in a spot at once both pleasing and romantic.

Monmouth had anciently four gates, and the suburb was defended by a wall and deep ditch on each side, except that next the river. As far back as Leland’s time, the walls and every other embattled part but the square tower were in a state of ruin. The church is an entire modern structure.

Monmouth has high claim to consideration and respect, from its having given birth to our fifth Henry the conqueror of France, whose active spirit, warlike qualities, and superior skill in horsemanship, particularly at a time when to be accomplished, was indispensible to the character of a gentleman, and the cavalry service began to be in a manner appropriated to men of this rank, are thus enchantingly, and with all the ease and grace of the gallant and princely horseman he describes, delineated by our matchless bard.

Henry was born in the castle of Monmouth, of which little more remains than a few fragments of walls, and an elevation or mound of earth, just sufficient to ascertain its site; and to demonstrate how evanescent and transitory are all human things; the strong embattled fortress as well as the cradle of princes. Such once were to be found on this spot; and that this awful truth may be more strongly impressed and exemplified, though there yet remains more visible and palpable evidence of one than of the other, let it be remembered, that the record of history will retain the memory of the birth place of Henry, when all traces of the castle shall have passed away, and even its site shall as ineffectually be sought after as at this hour the image of its former splendour.

In this castle Edward the second, after he had been made prisoner by his queen Isabella, in 1326, was for a time confined. Having in the south west direction of the town, with some difficulty obtained a sketch of the ruin of the castle that partakes much of the picturesque, it is here given as an illustration of this venerable spot. The river Monnow beautifully winds beneath its ruined walls, the wooden bridge that is thrown across the stream, and the rich and verdant scenery of its hilly bank, all conspire to produce a landscape highly deserving a place in this work. The remains of the castle, denote it to be of Roman construction, Camden says that from the king’s records, a castle was standing here in a flourishing state, as early as the time of William the Conqueror, and that it was rebuilt by John Baron of Monmouth, about the year 1240.

This town has not only the honor of giving birth to a great king, but likewise to a great historian, Galfredius Arthurius, Bishop of St. Asaph, better known by the name of Jeffery of Monmouth. He is supposed to have been educated at this place, which had then a benedictine monastery, or convent of black monks, founded in 1240 by Wihenoe de Monemue, or Monmouth. Monasteries were at that time the principal seminaries for learning in this country, as Oxford and Cambridge had not then risen to any great celebrity, and were at that period much depressed in consequence of the Danish invasion. Jeffery was made arch deacon of Monmouth in 1251, and was soon afterwards created bishop of St. Asaph. He translated the history of Britain from the British language into Latin, a work said to have been discovered by Walter Mapæus while in Armorica, and brought by him into England, where meeting with Jeffery of Monmouth, a man profoundly versed in the history and antiquities of Britain, and an elegant writer for the period in which he lived the task was entrusted to him. Merlin’s prophecies he also translated from British verse into Latin prose. This work was of essential service to the Welch chieftain Owen Glyndwr, whose high pretensions to soveriegnty were constantly favoured and cherished by these prophecies. The veracity of Jeffery, as an historian, has been doubted by many; Camden says that his relation of Brutus and his successors ought to be entirely disregarded. It may however be observed in favour of this writer, from the testimony of Giraldas Cambrensis his contemporary, that at that period the Welch bards and minstrels from early traditional accounts, received and transmitted with a mixture of religious reverence and awe, solemnly repeated the genealogy of their princes and heroes, from Roderic the Great to Æneas, and from Æneas lineally to Adam.

If this should not altogether be thought to add much to their probable authenticity, it will serve to warrant the introduction of the history, to shew at least that he was not the author of the fiction; and, in tracing the origin of nations, tales to the full as fabulous are to be met with in the pages of many of our gravest and approved writers.

To the few early historians of our own we owe much, and amongst these Jeffery deserves every respect, and we are bound to regret that in succeeding times, the best histories of this country will be found to have been the labors of foreigners. A fragment of Monmouth Priory, we have preserved as a tribute to the memory of the historian who was there educated: The Gothic window that appears in view remains very perfect, and appertains to a venerable ancient chamber, which he is reported to have occupied as a study. From the nature of its foundation, the free school at Monmouth particularly deserves our notice. Burton, in his history of Wales, gives this relation of William Jones its founder: he says, “Wm. Jones was born at Monmouth, and forced to quit his country for not being able to pay ten groats. Coming to London he became first a porter, and then a factor; and going over to Hamburgh, had such a vent for Welch cottons, that he gained a very considerable estate in a short time. He founded a fair school in Monmouth, allowing fifty pounds yearly to the master, and a hundred pounds salary to a lecturer, besides a stately alms-house for twenty poor people, each of them having two rooms and a garden, and half a crown a week; all which he left to the oversight of the company of haberdashers in London, who discharge their trust therein to this day.” Another account of the founder is thus given, but with less credibility. That he was a native of Newland, a few miles distant from Monmouth, and having quitted it when young to seek his fortune, he returned at an advanced period of life, in an apparent state of indigence, although very rich, and applied to his native town for relief as a pauper, which being refused, he took his revenge on the people by retiring to Monmouth, and there dispensing that wealth, that was intended to enrich his native place.

We cannot quit the pleasant town of Monmouth without noticing the massive pile of its gaol. Built in a lofty and healthy spot, and in the form of an ancient castle; it frowns over the country, and impresses the idea of rigorous confinement and the impossibility of escape. At the time we visited this expensive and spacious work, it contained only one solitary inhabitant, and he a prisoner for only a very trivial offence. As our gaols increase in magnitude, it is with pleasure we have frequently had occasion to remark that there is a decrease of inhabitants, nor is it less worthy of observation that the humanity of supplying even those who least deserve it, with decent accommodation, as well as the blessing of light and air, before denied to them, is now most liberally granted.