The weather prevented our seeing the celebrated walks of Piercefield, but we promised ourselves the pleasure of visiting them on our return down the Wye. The castle of Chepstow, called Cagwent, or Castell Gwent, stands on a rock washed by the river Wye, near its influx into the Severn. Topographical writers differ in their accounts concerning the antiquity of the castle, but it is generally supposed to have been built at the same time with the town, appearing at that period to have been a kind of citadel to Chepstow. {26} The castle was formerly of great extent, as, according to Leland’s account, the “waulles began at the end of the great bridge over Wy,” yet, “in the castel ys one tower, as I have heard say, by the name of Langine.” Little now remains of its former grandeur: but, impelled by an irresistible curiosity, we ascended the decayed steps of the tower, from whence the eye traced with pleasure the windings of the Wye, till it was at last lost in conjunction with the Severn. We examined the apartments in which Henry Marten, one of the regicides, who sat to condemn King Charles I., was confined twenty years. Grand views of the Bristol Channel still continued to form interesting objects from the road; but about three miles from Chepstow, we turned into some fields on the right, to examine the ivy-mantled walls of CALDECOT CASTLE. On our first entrance, we gazed with that rapt astonishment, which fears to disturb, or be disturbed, by the mutual communication of thought. Mr. Warner, in his survey of this ruin, was much disappointed; but I cannot help allowing, although the view from it was inferior to Chepstow, that its antiquated walls wear a nobler appearance; and the gloom that reigns around it forces a sigh, and evinces the transitory nature of sublunary greatness. The antiquity of the building is very obscure. Passing through the village of Caldecot, we soon entered CAERWENT, on the western side, through the broken fragments of its walls, of which one immense mass has recently fallen. This ancient town is now a village, with a few scattered cottages, but was formerly celebrated, under the auspices of Agricola, for its temples, theatre, porticoes, and baths; few vestiges of its former splendour are now extant. A few fragments of loose stones only remain to point out its former extent. In an orchard, adjoining a farm-house belonging to Mr. Lewis, is the beautiful tesselated Roman pavement, discovered in the year 1777. The tesseræ or dies, about an inch in breadth, and half in depth, are nearly square, consisting of four colours, red, yellow, blue, and white, {27} which are still in great preservation; the whole is surrounded with a border, much resembling a Turkey carpet. The daily depredations on these curious remains of antiquity are greatly to be lamented.