The Argosy — page 146: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

134 On the Wye. It Was therefore arranged to start for Chepstow at two o'clock. This would leave time to drive to Raglan Castle and inspect the ruins. Soon after ten the hotel supplied a handsome barouche and a capital pair of horses, and we set out for Raglan. A drive of eight miles along the Abergavenny road, picturesque, like every drive in this neighbourhood, and full of varied and striking beauties. No longer the river Wye, but hills near and distant, clothed with the most luxuriant foliage ; trees, and fruit-laden orchards, con- cinuing mile after mile. At length, a sweep round, and we soon halted at the entrance to Raglan Castle. Alighting, we passed through the gateway. The sight that met the eye was one never to be forgotten. Here, indeed, we stood before the greatest attraction in this part of the country; before one of the grandest ruins not only in England, but probably in the world. It is a castle full of historic records and associations, many of them of the deepest interest. It was the last castle that defied the power of Cromwell. Here the unhappy Charles I. visited the Marquis of Worcester, and took refuge within its walls in July, 1645. The castle was besieged by Sir Thomas Fairfax, from the 3rd of June to the roth of August, 1646. An honourable capitulation was then effected ; the Marquis proceeded to London, where, contrary to the articles of surrender, he was seized and imprisoned. From the present ruins an idea may be gathered of what it was in the days of its glory. On entering we were dazzled by the sight. Surrounding the castle was a carpet of the most brilliant verdure, most beautifully kept grass. The magnificent ruin was exposed in all its pride, though not in all its extent. Before us rose the walls, hoary with age, ivy-crowned, battlemented, their summits taking the most broken and picturesque forms, and standing out marvellously against the blue sky. The sky itself was the most favourable to such ascene. A N.W. wind was blowing gently; and the blue of the sky was brought out in intenser and more exquisite contrast by the white feathery clouds that chased each other as they floated onwards. These clouds or vapours did not interrupt the sunshine, whilst they cast their fleeting, cooling shadows over the brilliant sward and the magnificent ruin. I had seen many ruins both at home and abroad, but seldom one equal tothis. It may have been that the somewhat unexpected grandeur of the sight exaggerated its influence upon the mind; it is true that a more glorious and glowing day could not have existed ; but it is certain that this influence could not have been heightened. Sky, sun, atmo- sphere, all combined to throw a glamour upon this most bewitching scene, and intoxicate the imagination. The word is not misplaced. It was an intoxication, a dream of delight. I gazed long upon the scene, finding no words for speech. Then the custodian—whose politeness and attention rendered: hin) ‘worthy comicbooks.com