A tour throughout South Wales and MonmouthshireBarber, J. T. (John Thomas)
History
A tour throughout South Wales and Monmouthshire
Barber, J. T. (John Thomas)
Monmouthshire (Wales) -- Description and travel; Wales, South -- Description and travel
we began our journey; and this range of fertility but disclosed itself in
partial gleams through the exhaling dew, as we ascended a hill from Usk.
Advancing, the mists disappeared, and we quickly found ourselves in a
sequestered valley, whose high encircling hills were variously decorated
with a profusion of wood: the morning sun brilliantly shone on the dewy
verdure; and we were admiring the charming scenery, while our spirits
partook of its cheerfulness, when a huntsman’s horn resounded from a
neighbouring thicket, and echoed through the hills: a deep-mouthed pack,
joining in full chorus, announced a _throwing-off_. The concert
continued, though the performers remained unseen as we anxiously skirted
the dale; but our road soon took an ascent, in the precise direction of
the hunt; and, gaining an eminence, a new vale and its accompanyments
opened to us, yet without the hunting party. However, we had not long
gazed in disappointment when, from the dark umbrage of a thick wood, the
hounds rushed forward like a wave over the meadows; the men and horses
were not far behind; but, scouring a descent that would have scared a
lowland sportsman, pursued the game, which continued out of sight. But
at length we saw Reynard skulk from a ditchy fence in a field before us,
and dash across the meadows: the hounds and hunters were close at his
heels. A loud shout from the party, a superior yell in the dogs, and the
strained exertions of the animal, proclaimed a general view: we heartily
joined in the halloo; and even our sorry jades displayed unusual spirit;
for they pricked up their ears, and absolutely began a gallop to join in
the chase; but a gate near a yard high opposed an insurmountable obstacle
to that intention, and obliged us to remain inactive spectators while the
party veered up a woody hill and finally disappeared from us.
Reluctantly parting from this animating scene, we entered the little
village of RAGLAN; where an old woman, knitting at the door of her
cottage, proffered her service to take care of our horses while we walked
over a fallow field to the superb ruins of RAGLAN CASTLE.
[Picture: Raglan Castle]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account