at it was
the birthplace of King Henry V, Shakespeare's Prince Hal, whom William
Watson describes as

"The roystering prince that afterward
Belied his madcap youth and proved
A greatly simple warrior lord
Such as our warrior fathers loved."

The scanty ruins of the castle where the prince was born still overlook
the town. Thus King Henry became the patron of Monmouth, and in front of
the town hall has been erected an inartistic effigy of a knight in full
armour, with the inscription, "Henry V, born at Monmouth, August 9,
1387." The old bridge over the river Monnow is unique, with an odd,
castellated gateway at one end, probably intended not so much for
defense as for collecting tolls.

After dark we wandered about the streets until the church-tower chimes
warned us of the lateness of the hour. And even these church bells have
their history. When King Henry sailed from a seaport in France on one
occasion the inhabitants rang the bells for joy, which so incensed the
monarch that he ordered the bells removed and presented them to his
native town. We saw too little of Monmouth, for the next morning we were
away early, taking the fine road that leads directly south to Tintern
and Chepstow.

The abbey-builders chose their locations with unerring judgment, always
in a beautiful valley near a river or lake, surrounded by fertile fields
and charming scenery. Of the score of ruined abbeys which we visited
there was not one that did not fulfill this description, and none of
them to a greater extent--possibly excepting Fountain's--than Tintern.
In the words of an enthusiastic admirer, "Tintern is supremely wonderful
for its situation among its scores of rivals. It lies on the very brink
of the River Wye, in a hollow of the hills of Monmouth, sheltered from
harsh winds, warmed by the breezes of the Channel--a very nook in an
earthly Eden. Somehow the winter seems to fall more lightly here, the
spring to come earlier, the foliage to take on a deeper green, the grass
a greater thickness, and the flowers a more multitudinous variety."
Certainly the magnificent church--almost entire except for its fallen
roof--standing in the pleasant valley surrounded by forest-clad hills on
every side, well merits such enthusiastic language. It is well that
this fine ruin is now in the possession of the Crown, for it insures
that decay will be arrested and its beauties preserved as an inspiration
to art and architecture of la