A tour throughout South Wales and Monmouthshire
by J. T. Barber · English · Gutenberg #36643 · 425,114 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: A tour throughout South Wales and Monmouthshire
Author: J. T. Barber
Release date: July 6, 2011 [eBook #36643]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36643
Credits: Transcribed from the 1803 J. Nichols and Son edition by David Price
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TOUR THROUGHOUT SOUTH WALES AND MONMOUTHSHIRE ***
Transcribed from the 1803 J. Nichols and Son edition by David Price,
email ccx074@pglaf.org
[Picture: Tintern Abbey]
A
TOUR
THROUGHOUT
SOUTH WALES
AND
MONMOUTHSHIRE.
COMPREHENDING
A GENERAL SURVEY
OF THE
PICTURESQUE SCENERY, REMAINS OF ANTIQUITY, HISTORICAL
EVENTS, PECULIAR MANNERS, AND COMMERCIAL SITUATIONS,
OF THAT INTERESTING PORTION OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE.
* * * * *
BY J. T. BARBER, F.S.A.
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATED WITH A MAP AND TWENTY VIEWS, ENGRAVED
FROM DRAWINGS BY THE AUTHOR.
[Picture: Decorative divider]
_LONDON_:
PRINTED BY J. NICHOLS AND SON, RED LION PASSAGE,
FLEET STREET;
FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND.
* * * * *
1803.
* * * * *
To RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN, ESQ. M.P.
_SIR_,
_Highly admiring that transcendent genius and ability which renders you
conspicuous among the foremost characters of the age_; _nor less
venerating that manly independence which has dignified your political
career_, _it must be my regret_, _in dedicating this Work to you_, _that
it is not more suitable to the rank of merit to which it is inscribed_.
_I am_, _SIR_,
_With great respect_,
_Your most obedient Servant_,
_J. T. BARBER_.
_Southampton-street_, _Strand_,
_London_, _Feb._ 15, 1803.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The intention of this Work is, to point out and describe such objects as
command general interest throughout the country.--The usual plan of Tours
only comprising a particular route, unless that precise line be retraced,
a Tourist is obliged to encumber himself with several books, to enable
him to gain all the information that he requires. The Author has felt
this inconvenience in several excursions through Great Britain; and has
therefore selected from the best authorities an account of those few
parts which he had not an opportunity of visiting; in order that this
Work may exhibit a general survey of Southern Cambria.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.
Page
General Observations--A Sketch of Welch History--Ancient 1
Buildings
CHAP. I.
Voyage from Bristol to Swansea--Swansea 14
Castle--Manufactories--Welch Bathing--Ostermouth--Penrice,
and Pennarth Castles--Seat of Mr. Talbot--Arthur's Stone, a
large Cromlech
CHAP. II.
Loughor--Llanelly--Pembree-hill--Kidwelly, and its Castle 31
CHAP. III.
Caermarthen--Female Labourers--Llanstephan Castle--A 36
Ford--Laugharne Castle--Fine Marine Views--New Inn--Tenby
CHAP. IV.
Manorbeer Castle--An Adventure--A Dilemma--Carew 48
Castle--Lawrenny--Pembroke--Its Castle--Lamphey
Court--Stackpole Court--Bosherston Meer
CHAP. V.
Little England beyond Wales--Milford-haven--Welch 68
Beauties--Haverfordwest Fair--The Town, Castle, and
Priory--Picton Castle--Hubberston--Milford
CHAP. VI.
Journey over the Precelly Mountain to Cardigan--Extensive 81
Prospect--Cardigan--St. Dogmael's Priory--Another Route from
Haverfordwest to Cardigan, by St. David's--The Cathedral of
St. David's--Grand Ruins of its Palace--A Loggan, or Rocking
Stone--Ramsay Island--Fishguard--Newport--Kilgarran
Castle--Salmon Leap--Newcastle
CHAP. VII.
Llanarth--Aberaeron--Llansansfried--Llanrhystid--An Enquiry 97
into a strange asserted Custom relating to the Mode of
Courtship in Wales--Llanbadarn-vawr--Aberistwyth, and its
Castle
CHAP. VIII.
Barrier of North and South Wales--The Devil's Bridge--Grand 110
Cataract of the Mynach--Cwm Ystwith Hills--Hafod--Ancient
Encampments--Starflour Abbey--Tregarron--Roman Antiquities at
Llandewi Brevi--Lampeter--Llansawel--Edwin's Ford--Llandilo
CHAP. IX.
Charming Vale of Towey--Dinevawr Castle--Golden 128
Grove--Grongar Hill--Middleton Hall--Caregcannon
Castle--Reflections at a Ford--Glenheir Waterfall--An
Accident--Pont ar Dulas--Return to Swansea
CHAP. X.
Neath Abbey, Town, and Castle--The Knoll--Briton 145
Ferry--Funereal Rites--Aberavon--Margam--Abbey Ruin--Pile
CHAP. XI.
Ogmore Castle--Ewenny Priory--Dunraven House--St. Donatt's 158
Castle--Llanbithian Castle--Cowbridge--Penline Castle--Coity
Castle--Llantrissent--Benighted Ramble to
Pont-y-Pridd--Water-falls
CHAP. XII.
Scenery of the Taffe--Stupendous Ruins of Caerphilly 172
Castle--The Leaning Tower--Fine View from Thornhill--Cardiff
Castle--Ecclesiastical Decay of Landaff--The Cathedral
CHAP. XIII.
Entrance of Monmouthshire--Ancient 185
Encampments--Castleton--Tredegar Park--Newport--Church and
Castle--Excursion to Machen Place--Picturesque View from
Christ Church--Gold Cliff--Caerleon's
Antiquities--Encampments--Lord Herbert of
Cherbury--Lantarnam--Langibby Castle
CHAP. XIV.
Usk--Castle and Church--Excursion to Raglan--Elegant Ruins of 208
Raglan Castle--Views from the Devaudon--Roman Antiquities at
Caerwent--Tesselated Pavement
CHAP. XV.
Wentwood Forest--Excursion to the Castles of Dinham; Lanvair; 227
Striguil; Pencoed; and Penhow--comprising extensive Views
from the Pencamawr, &c.--Caldecot Castle--A Tale of other
Times--New Passage--Sudbrook Encampment--and Chapel--St.
Pierre--Mathern Palace--Moinscourt
CHAP. XVI.
Chepstow--Fine Scenery of its Vicinage--The Castle--Church, 246
and Bridge--Piercefield--Character of the late Mr. Morris
CHAP. XVII.
Tintern Abbey--Iron Works--Scenery of the Wye to 265
Monmouth--Old Tintern--Brook's Weir--Landago--Redbrook
CHAP. XVIII.
Monmouth--Church, Priory, and Castle--The Kymin--Wonastow 279
House--Treowen--Troy
House--Trelech--Perthir--Newcastle--Screnfrith
Castle--Grossmont Castle--John of Kent
CHAP. XIX.
Abbey of Grace-dieu--Sir David Gam--White Castle--Abergavenny 300
Hills--The Town, Cattle, and Church
CHAP. XX.
Werndee--Family Pride--Lanthony Abbey--Old Castle 312
CHAP. XXI.
Re-entrance of South Wales--Crickhowell--Tretower--Brecon 323
Castle and Priory--Road to Llandovery--Trecastle--Pass of
Cwm-dur--Llandovery Castle--Road from Brecon to
Hereford--Brunlyss Castle--Female Vengeance--Hay--Clifford
Castle
CHAP. XXII.
Bualt--Prince Llewelyn--Rhayder-gowy--Caractacus's 335
Camp--Offa's Dyke--Knighton--Presteign--Old and New
Radnor--Llandrindod Wells
CHAP. XXIII.
Goodrich Castle and Priory--Wilton Castle--Scenery of the Wye 347
from Ross to Monmouth--Ross--Gloucester
ERRATA. {0}
Page 66, _for_ LAMPHEY CASTLE, _read_ LAMPHEY COURT.
68 and 80, _for_ Habberston, _read_ Hubberston.
98, _after_ horizon, _read_ the sea.
131, _in the note_, _for_ Druslwyn, _read_ Gruslwyn.
DIRECTIONS FOR THE PLATES.
Tintern Abbey to face the Title Page.
The Map before the Introduction.
Kidwelly Castle to face page 34
Llanstephan Castle 41
Manorbeer Castle 48
Carew Castle 61
Pembroke Castle 65
St. Dogmael's Priory 86
Kilgarran Castle 93
The Devil's Bridge 111
Falls of the Mynach 114
Dinevawr Castle 128
Careg-cannon Castle 138
Margam Abbey 153
Caerphilly Castle 174
Raglan Castle 213
Chepstow Castle 247
View from Piercefield 260
View on the Wye 277
Lanthony Abbey 315
Goodrich Castle 348
[Picture: Map of South Wales]
INTRODUCTION.
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS--A SKETCH OF WELCH HISTORY--ANCIENT BUILDINGS.
SECT. I.
In making the Tour of South Wales and Monmouthshire, the _Admirer_ of
_picturesque beauty_ dwells with peculiar pleasure on a tract of country
comprising the greater part of Monmouthshire, and bordering the Severn
and Bristol channel, to the western limits of Pembrokeshire. In this
enchanting district, a succession of bold hills, clothed with wild
forests, or ornamental plantations and delightful valleys, present
themselves in constant variety: many fine estuaries and rivers,
picturesque towns, and princely ruins, also adorn the scene, whose charms
are inconceivably heightened by the contiguity of the Bristol channel,
which washes the coast; in some places receding into capacious bays; in
others, advancing into rocky promontories of the most imposing grandeur.
_The Statistical Enquirer_ finds equal subject of gratification, in the
uncommon fertility of several valleys, and the woody treasures of
numerous hills, bearing myriads of oaks, and other first-rate
timber-trees. The mineral wealth of the country, and its convenient
coast for traffic, are likewise subjects of high consideration; and,
while the statist applauds the late rapid strides of manufactures and
commerce in this district, he may discover sources hitherto latent for
their increase.
_The Historian_ cannot fail of being interested while treading on the
ground where Britons made their latest and most vigorous efforts for
independence, against successive invaders; nor _the Antiquary_, while
traversing a country replete with Monuments of the Druidical ages;
military works of the Romans, Britons, Saxons, and Normans; and the
venerable relics of numerous religious foundations.
Beyond this stripe of country, from ten to twenty miles in width, forming
the southern extremity of Wales, and an intermixture of rich scenery
(particularly in the neighbourhood of Brecon), with prevailing dreariness
on the eastern frontier, South-Wales exhibits a tedious extent of hills
without majesty, valleys overrun with peat bogs, and unprofitable moors.
Beside the superb ruins of St. David's, the course of the Tivy near
Cardigan, and the scenery about the Devil's Bridge, it has little to
entice the attention of the tourist: the towns, for the most part, are
miserably poor, and travelling accommodations very uncertain; the roads,
too, are wretched beyond any thing that a mere English traveller ever
witnessed. It is, therefore, a subject of no small gratification, that
the chief beauties of South-Wales are found in a compact route; abounding
with good towns, respectable accommodations, and very fair roads. This
part of the country may be explored in a close carriage, though the
better mode of travelling is, certainly, on horse-back. The pedestrian
may claim peculiar advantages in his way of getting on; but I do not
conceive, that a man enduring the fatigue of trudging day after day
through miry roads, can maintain an exhilaration of spirits congenial
with the beauties that surround him.
SECT. II.
The geographical situation and present limits of Wales are unnecessary to
be here described. Of its history, the first certain accounts that we
collect are on the invasion of the Romans, when Wales appears to have
been divided into three principalities: the Silures, the Ordovices, and
the Dimitae. The Silures possessed all that tract of country bounded by
the Severn, the Tame, and the Towey; which, comprehending the counties of
Monmouth, Glamorgan, Brecknock, Radnor, Hereford, and part of Gloucester,
Worcester, and Caermarthen shires, comprised the greater part of
South-Wales. The Dimitae inhabited that part of South-Wales westward of
the Towey; and the Ordovices, North-Wales, including Anglesea.
The Romans having subdued _Britannia Prima_, _i.e._ the Southern part of
England, advanced to the conquest of Wales, by them denominated
_Britannia Secunda_; in this, however, they met with an unlooked-for
opposition; the inhabitants were vigorous and brave; and the country,
wildly piled together with mountains, forests, and morasses, presented an
aggregation of difficulties, that would have discouraged a people less
ardent in their enterprizes: nor did they succeed, until after a long
warfare and a severe loss. The Silures and Dimitae fell under the yoke
in the reign of Vespasian, when they were vanquished by _Julius
Frontinus_. The Ordovices were not finally subdued until the time of his
successor, _Agricola_, who, according to Tacitus, exterminated the whole
nation.
The Romans retained possession of this country until A.D. 408, when they
withdrew their legions, and the most warlike of the British youth, for
the defence of their central dominions. The inroads of the Scots and
Picts, which immediately followed, do not appear to have materially
affected the Welch; nor did the Saxons, though at constant war with them
for several centuries, acquire any settled dominion in the country: yet
they more than once partially overran Wales, obliging it to pay tribute;
and in the reign of Edward the confessor, Harold, at the head of a great
army, entering Wales, defeated Prince Griffith, sovereign of North-Wales,
and, establishing himself in Gwent {6} (Monmouthshire), began a Palace at
Portswit, which was, however, destroyed by Griffith before its
completion.
From the departure of the Romans, in 408, to the inroads of the
Anglo-Norman chieftains in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, Wales was
divided into numerous petty sovereignties or lordships, of varying name
and extent, but tributary to an imperial Prince; though sometimes that
dignity was split into two or three branches. These chiefs were usually
at war with each other, or with their Princes, who seldom obtained
tribute when their means of enforcing it was questionable.
The Anglo-Norman dominion in Wales was brought about in a manner wholly
different from former conquests. William the First and his successors,
finding sufficient employment in securing their English possessions,
invited their chiefs, holding lands in the neighbourhood of Wales, to
make incursions against the Welch lords, upon their separate interests.
The Norman leaders thereupon, by creating feuds among the native powers,
siding with one or the other party, and breaking with them on convenient
opportunities, contrived to fix themselves in various parts of Wales;
whence their conquests extending, by degrees, overspread the greater part
of the country. The lands thus obtained became the property of the
conquerors, who, under the title of lords marchers, were allowed to
exercise an uncontrolled jurisdiction within their demesnes: but power
acquired on such principles could only be retained by force; every petty
despot secured himself in a fortress, and hence arose the extraordinary
number of castles with which Wales is crowded, amounting, according to a
native author, {7} to 143. The Welch princes still held a considerable
tract of country, frequently overthrew the intruders, and even carried
their arms into England; but in the defeat of the brave Llewelyn, by
Edward the First, Wales lost every remnant of its independence, and
became definitively united to the crown of England.
In the reign of Henry the Eighth Wales was divided into twelve shires,
and Monmouthshire was included among the English counties; the feudal
despotism of the lords-marchers was then abolished; and Wales,
participating in the equal shelter of English jurisprudence, has proved
itself as zealous in defending the common interests of the empire, as it
was formerly conspicuous in struggling for its particular freedom.
SECT. III.
Among the numerous memorials of history and antiquity which distinguish
Wales, castles and religious buildings possess the chief claim to
attention; and, as Wales is an admirable field for the study of the civil
and military architecture that prevailed in the middle ages, I shall give
a slight sketch of the progress of those arts, so far as it seems
applicable to the present purpose.
On the overthrow of the Romans by the Goths and Vandals, the arts
vanished before the scourge of war; and the standard mode of architecture
which adorned the Greek and Roman empires could no longer be executed in
its original perfection. The general forms, indeed, were imitated, but
without an observance of symmetry: the execution was rough and clumsy;
the pillars were excessively thick, and the arches heavy; and where
ornament was attempted the performance was very uncouth. Such was the
state of architecture (a mere corruption of the Roman) that succeeded the
devastations of the Goths, and has been called _Saxon_ and _Norman_: the
term Gothic, however, would certainly be more appropriate.
At the beginning of the twelfth century, a new style of architecture made
its appearance, distinguished by pointed arches and clustered columns
{9}. Though at first coldly received, and but sparingly introduced among
the rounded arches and massive columns called Saxon, it soon gained an
undisputed footing.
About the latter end of the reign of Henry the Third, we find it acquire
a more ornamental and distinct character. The pillars, which before were
rounds and encircled with slender detached shafts, were then formed in
entire reeded columns; the arched roofs also, which only exhibited the
main springers, then became intersected with numerous ramifications and
transomes. The decorations continued to increase until toward the close
of Henry the Eighth's reign, when the light of science again dawned over
Europe, and the relics of Greece and Rome were rightly considered as
models of genuine taste; the classic elegance of the five Orders then
appeared, intermixed with the Gothic; it soon became universal, and is
now adopted in all superior buildings throughout Europe. Further
characteristics of style might be pointed out, and lesser variations
defined: but I do not presume to inform the antiquary; and the
distinctions already drawn will be sufficient for the cursory tourist.
_Castles_ appear of no generally chosen figure, except such were founded
by the Romans, who preferred that of an oblong square, unless there were
special reasons to the contrary. Small castles consisted of a single
court, or ward, whose sides were usually flanked by towers. The great
hall, chapel, and domestic apartments, built from the outer wall into the
court, occupied one or more sides. The citadel, called also the Keep and
Dungeon, was a tower of eminent strength, wherein the Garrison made their
last stand, and where prisoners were sometimes confined: the citadel was
often detached from the walls, and built on an artificial mound encircled
with a ditch. The barracks for the soldiers in garrison was generally a
range of building near the gatehouse, or principal entrance. The latter
building contained apartments for the Officers of the castle, and the
portal was furnished with one, two, or three portcullisses. {11} A wet
or dry moat surrounded the whole; and, advanced before the drawbridge
that crossed it, there was often an outwork called a barbican. Large
castles were only a repetition of these courts upon somewhat of a larger
scale, connected with each other (Chepstow castle consists of four). In
fortresses of the first class, an extensive embattled wall sometimes
encircled the mass of fortification already described, at some distance,
inclosing a considerable tract of ground, as at Caerphilly in
Glamorganshire. {12} Castle walls appear in some instances built of
solid masonry; but their general construction is of grout work. For this
purpose, two slight walls were built parallel, from six to twelve feet
asunder; the interval was then filled up with loose stones and rubbish,
and the whole cemented together with a great quantity of fluid (according
to some authors boiling) mortar: the mass soon acquired a sufficient
firmness, and in the present day it possesses the adhesion of solid rock.
This method was used by the Romans, and adopted by succeeding ages; but
the arches were turned, and the angles coigned with hewn stones, which,
after the Conquest, were brought from Caen in Normandy.
CHAP. I.
VOYAGE FROM BRISTOL TO SWANSEA--SWANSEA CASTLE--MANUFACTORIES--WELCH
BATHING--OSTERMOUTH, PENRICE, AND PENNARTH CASTLES--SEAT OF MR.
TALBOT--ARTHUR'S STONE, A LARGE CROMLECH.
In company with a brother artist, I entered BRISTOL with an intention of
commencing my Cambrian tour in the neighbourhood of Chepstow; but an
unthought-of attraction induced us to relinquish this project.
Returning from a ramble through the town, by the quay, we were agreeably
amused with a fleet of vessels that was about to quit the river with the
ebbing tide; some of them were already in full sail floating down the
stream, and others getting under weigh. The spirited exertions of the
seamen, and the anxious movements of numerous spectators, devoting their
attention to friends or freight, gave animation to the scene, which was
rendered particularly cheerful by the delightful state of the morning.
On a sudden we were saluted with a duet of French-horns from a small
sloop in the river; a very indifferent performance to be sure, yet it was
pleasing. This sloop was bound to SWANSEA; and we learned that the wind
was so directly favourable, that the voyage would in all probability be
completed the same afternoon. We were now strongly disposed for an
aquatic excursion; nor did the laughing broad faces of about a dozen
Welch girls, passengers, alarm us from our purpose: so by an exertion we
collected our portmanteaus and some refreshments in due time, and engaged
in the voyage.
Leaving Bristol, and its romantic but ruined suburb CLIFTON, we entered
upon the remarkable scenery of St. VINCENT'S Rocks. A bolder pass than
is here formed I scarcely remember to have seen, even in the most
mountainous parts of Great Britain: on one side, a huge rock rises in
naked majesty perpendicularly from the river, to the height of some
hundred feet; the immense surface is tinted with the various hues of
grey, red, and yellow, and diversified by a few patches of shrubs, moss,
and creeping lichens. A range of rocks equal in magnitude, but of less
precipitous ascent, clothed with dark wild forest trees and underwood,
forms the opposite boundary of the river; attempering the menacing aspect
of impendent cliffs, with the softer features of sylvan hills.
The grandeur of the river's banks diminishes until near the Avon's
junction with the Severn; when the commanding height of Kingsweston-hill,
adorned with the groves, lawns, and plantations of Lord Clifford's park,
rises conspicuously eminent, and engages a parting interest. We soon
entered the Severn, here an expansive estuary, and so far a noble object;
but deriving little importance from its shores, which, except in the
neighbourhood of Aust, are a mere undulation of corn-fields and pastures.
The display of cultivation, though gratifying, is certainly inferior in
picturesque merit to the grand features of cliffs and mountains which
distinguish the shores of PEMBROKESHIRE, and the western coast of Wales.
For some time we were well entertained with our voyage; when satisfied
with external objects, we found amusement in the cooped-up circle of our
companions, and entered upon a general meal, without the assistance of
knives or plates, with much good humour: nor was there a lack of wit, if
we might judge from the continued bursts of laughter that sallied on the
occasion. But the scene presently changed: the wind, at first so
favourable, shifted to the opposite point, increasing from a pleasant
breeze to a fresh gale; the sun no longer played on the surface of the
water; the sky became overcast; and "the waves curled darkly against the
vessel." From the seamen, with looks of disappointment, we learned, that
the prospect of a short voyage was at an end; and that, if the wind
continued as it was, we might be kept at sea for several days: the
badness of the weather increased towards evening, when a deluging rain
came down, and continued the whole night. This calamity was further
aggravated by a noisy old woman on board, who grated our ears with a
horrible scream whenever a wave broke over the vessel, or a flash of
lightning illuminated the scenery of the storm; filling up the intervals
with the cheering narrative of ships that were lost in the very track of
our voyage. It was to no purpose that we endeavoured to joke away her
fears, or to make them less eloquent; but Time, that great resolver of
difficulties, transferring the disorder of her imagination to her
stomach, quieted her alarm. At length the increasing rain forced every
one for shelter towards the cabin: this was a hole about two yards by one
and a half; not quite the latter dimension in height, and filthy to a
degree that I shall not attempt to describe: into this place as many were
squeezed as it could possibly contain.
Among our female companions were two genteel young Welch-women of
considerable personal attractions, whose vivacity and good-nature had
essentially contributed to the entertainment of the day: one of these was
peculiarly bewitching; her's was
--the faultless form
Shap'd by the hand of harmony; the cheek
Where the live crimson, through the native white
Soft-shooting, o'er, the face diffuses bloom,
And ev'ry nameless grace; the parted lip,
Like the red rose-bud moist with morning dew,
Breathing delight; and, under flowing jet,
The neck slight-shaded, and the swelling breast;
The look resistless, piercing to the soul.
These damsels preferring the certainty of a wetting upon deck to the
chance of suffocation in the cabin, we made it our business to defend
them as much as possible from "the pelting of the pitiless storm." Our
travelling coats were fashionably large; so that each of us was able
completely to shelter one, without exposing ourselves; a bottle of brandy
too, that we had fortunately provided, helped to counteract the
inclemency of the weather, and we were for some time thoroughly
comfortable. The rain at length, penetrating our coverings, obliged us
to seek a fresh resource; but to discover one was no easy matter; for the
cabin had not a chink unoccupied, and there was not a dry sail on board
to make use of. In this predicament it fortunately occurred to one of
the ladies, that before the hatchway was closed she observed sufficient
room in the hold for three or four persons who were not very bulky to lie
down: to this place we gained admittance; and, although the angles of
chests and packages formed a very inappropriate couch for the tender
limbs of our friends, yet the retreat proved highly gratifying; and,
after a short time spent in pleasing conversation, we enjoyed a
refreshing sleep.--Unhallowed thoughts, be silent! voluptuous
imaginations, conjure not up, from this pressure of circumstances,
motives or actions that are unholy! It is true, the girls had charms
that might warm an anchorite, and were filled with the glowing sensations
of youthful passion; yet they were virtuous; nor had the tourists,
although encountering temptation, a wish to endanger the possessors of
qualities so lovely for a transitory enjoyment.
When we issued from our burrow the next morning, the rain continued; but
the wind had abated, and become more favourable. The other passengers
remained in the cabin, and nothing can be imagined more distressing than
their situation. No less than ten women had squeezed themselves into the
hole, where they lay all of a heap, like fish in a basket. The heat and
confinement had rendered the sickness general: I shall forbear to
describe the evidence of its effects; but briefly remark, that, overcome
by pain and fatigue, they appeared all in a sound sleep, half released
from their clothes, and with such an intermixture of heads, bodies, and
limbs, that it required some ingenuity to trace the relation of the
several parts. The two old French-horn players were lying at the door
soaking in the rain, but also asleep. From such a scene we gladly
withdrew, and in a few hours found ourselves at the entrance of SWANSEA
BAY, finely encircled with high varied hills; on our left were the two
insulated rocks called the Mumbles, at a small distance from the main
land, where the whitened town of OSTERMOUTH {21} appeared issuing from
the water, beneath a lofty dark hill. At the bottom of the bay, the
superior extent of Swansea lined the shore, backed by an atmosphere of
cloudy vapours produced from the numerous furnaces in its neighbourhood.
At length I trod on Cambrian ground, and paid my half crown, with a
willing engagement to forfeit a hundred times the sum, if ever I should
be again caught on board of a Swansea Hoy. {22}
Swansea is a tolerably neat town, although irregularly built. It has
long been a winter residence of the neighbouring gentry, and a favourite
resort in summer for bathing; but its increasing opulence arises
principally from the prosperity of its manufactures and commerce.
In company with Major Jones, a worthy magistrate of the town, to whose
polite attention I stand indebted for much local information, I obtained
a complete survey of SWANSEA CASTLE, (situated in the middle of the
town), which, although much contracted from its former grand dimensions,
is still of considerable extent. The principal feature of the building
is, a massive quadrangular tower, remarkable for a range of light
circular arches, encircling the top, and supporting a parapet, which
forms a connexion with turrets at each angle. This parapet affords a
pleasing bird's-eye view of the town and surrounding country. The
tenantable parts of the castle comprise the town-hall; a poor-house; a
jail; a new market-house; numerous store-cellars; a blacksmith's and
other shops and habitations; a Roman Catholic chapel; and a pigeon-house.
The Gothic structure has been so far metamorphosed in its application to
these purposes, that it is almost impossible to trace the original plan
of the building; but the large apartment used for Romish worship has been
either the baronial hall or the chapel: I think, the former.
During my stay in Swansea, an intoxicated man fell asleep on the parapet
of the castle, and, rolling off, fell to the ground at the depth of near
80 feet. The poor fellow was a servant in the castle: and, missing his
room in winding up the turreted stair-case, unconsciously extended his
journey to the summit of the castle. Nothing broke his fall (unless the
roof of a low shed reared against the wall, and which he went clearly
through, may be considered as a favourable impediment), and yet,
incredible as it may seem! the only effect produced on the man, was a
slight broken head, and a restoration of his faculties. He bound up his
head himself, made the best of his way to a public-house, took a little
more ale, and then went soberly to bed. I should scarcely have believed
this miraculous escape, had I not seen the broken tiles and rafters
through which he fell, and heard the attestations of numerous witnesses
of the accident.
Swansea Castle was built A.D. 1113, by Henry Beaumont, Earl of Warwick, a
Norman leader who conquered Gowerland, a tract of country bounded by the
Neath and Loughor rivers, from the Welch; but it was soon after besieged
by Griffith ap Rhys ap Theodore, a native chief, and a great part of the
out-buildings destroyed. It is now the property of the Duke of Beaufort,
Lord paramount of Gower.
A large tract of country northward of Swansea is covered with coal,
copper, and iron-works, the operations of which are much facilitated by a
canal passing among them. The dismal gloom of the manufactories, hanging
over the river Tawe, is pleasingly contrasted by the whitened walls of
their appendant villages, springing from the dark sides of the hills that
rise above the river. Conspicuous above the other resorts of the
manufacturers is MORRISTOWN, a neat newly-created village; and on the
summit of a steep hill Morristown castle, a quadrangular building, which
is the habitation of upwards of thirty families; these buildings owe
their origin to Mr. Morris, a gentleman, who, in partnership with Mr.
Lockwood, conducts one of the leading works. The introduction of Major
Jones obtained me a view of Messrs. Freeman's copper manufactory: we took
care to be there at noon, when the furnaces are tapped and all the
interesting processes gone through. The effect in passing through these
dismal buildings, contrasted by the vivid glare of the furnaces, and the
liquid fire of the pouring metal, is to a stranger very striking. I was
much surprized at the quantity of condensed sulphureous vapour that
yellowed the roof of the building. Sulphur often forms the greatest bulk
of the ore; yet no means are employed to collect the vapour, which might
easily be managed, and could not fail of turning to a source of profit:
at the same time, it would save the health of the workmen, and spare the
vegetation, which appears stinted for a considerable distance by the
noxious effluvia.
We left these sulphureous chambers to enjoy a purer air on the sea-shore,
where another curiosity awaited us. As we were strolling on the sands,
about a mile above the town, we remarked a group of figures, in birth-day
attire, gamboling in the water: not suspecting that they were women, we
passed carelessly on; but how great was our surprize, on approaching
them, to find that the fact did not admit of a doubt. We had not paused
a minute, before they all came running toward us, with a menacing tone
and countenance, that would seem to order us away. Though we did not
understand their British sentences, we obeyed, and very hastily too, on
finding a volley of stones rattling about our ears. This hostile
demonstration, we afterwards found, arose from a suspicion that we were
going to remove their clothes, a piece of waggery often practised by the
visitants of Swansea, to enjoy their running _nudiores ovo_. The girls
knew that we were not their countrymen, or we should have passed
unconcerned; unless, indeed, acquaintances, who would have made their
usual salutation, and perhaps joined in the party's amusement. In our
subsequent rambles on the beach these liberal exhibitions of Cambrian
beauty afforded us many pleasing studies of unsophisticated nature:
"Graceful, cleanly, smooth and round;
All in Venus' girdle bound."
From Swansea we made an excursion across the sands to Ostermouth castle,
about four miles distant, situated on an eminence near the coast. The
principal walls of this ruin are little injured by time, and most of the
apartments may be readily distinguished; the general figure is polygonal,
and the ramparts are conspicuously lofty, but unflanked by towers, except
at the entrance: a profusion of ivy overspreading the ruin rather
conceals than adorns it. This building is supposed to have been erected
by the Norman conqueror of Gowerland, and has almost ever since remained
the property of that Lordship.
From some high hills behind Ostermouth, an extensive view is obtained
over the peninsula of Gower, and the two noble bays of Swansea and
Caermarthen, which its projection divides: the general aspect of the
peninsula is wild and dreary. Not far distant, near the little bay of
Oxwich, are the ruins of Pennarth castle, a fortress built soon after the
Beaumonts conquered Gowerland; and on the opposite side of the bay stands
the more picturesque ruin of Penrice castle; so called after the
Penrice's, a Norman family that settled there in the reign of Edward the
First. This castle is comprised in an extensive domain belonging to Mr.
Talbot, which occupies a great part of the peninsula; and here Mr. Talbot
has erected an elegant villa, with all the appendant beauties of wood and
lawn, lake, and promenade. But, unless with a view to improve the
estate, one can scarcely imagine what motive could induce this gentleman
to desert his former residence at Margam, possessing all the allurements
of favoured nature, and situated in the midst of an agreeable
neighbourhood, to force exotic elegance upon a bleak unfrequented coast,
and fix his abode far from the usual haunts of society.
About three miles northward of Penrice, upon a mountain called Cum Bryn,
near Llanridian, is a table-like monument, or cromlech, {29} called
Arthur's stone: it consists of a huge flat stone, supposed to weigh near
twenty tons, supported upon six or seven others about five feet in
height; the smaller stones are placed in a circle.--A few miles farther,
near the mouth of the Loughor, is Webley castle, which was described to
me as a place of considerable antique strength, and as being still entire
and partially inhabited. The difficulty of access to this castle, and
its out-of-the-way situation, prevented our visiting it; similar reasons
also prevented our seeing a curiosity at Wormshead point, a bold
promontory jutting far into the sea, and divided from the main land at
high-water by the sea's overflowing its low isthmus. Near the extremity
of the point is a cleft in the ground, in which if dust or sand be
thrown, it will be returned back into the air; and a person applying his
ear to the crevice will hear a deep noise, like the blowing of a large
pair of bellows: this effect is reasonably attributed to the concussions
of the waves of the sea in the cavernous hollows of the cliff. An old
author, I think Giraldus Cambrensis, speaks of a similar phenomenon in
Barry island, near the coast between Cardiff and Cowbridge; but at
present no such effect is produced at that place.
CHAP. II.
LOUGHOR--LLANELLY--PEMBREE-HILL--KIDWELLY, AND ITS CASTLE.
Having satisfied ourselves with the peninsula of Gower, we entered upon a
zigzag excursion, round the coast of South-Wales, to its northern
boundary, purposing to return to Swansea by a midland route. My friend
had bought an excellent travelling horse, though aged, and a little
foundered, for twelve pounds. I was not so fortunate; the few others
that we met with for sale, were miserable poneys, and at a price double
their value in London: I was, therefore, constrained to engage a poor
little hack, at two guineas for a fortnight's use; and thus mounted we
set forward over a high romantic district to Loughor, the Leucarium of
Antoninus, now a poor village; but still exhibiting the ruined keep of
its castle, on a raised mount surrounded by a moat. From this place,
soiled with the filth of neighbouring collieries, we had a river to ford
to the opposite shore. This task is by no means enviable; for, in
addition to fording a rapid current over a rough stoney bottom, large
hollows are formed by vessels at low water, which, not appearing,
sometimes entrap the unsuspecting traveller, who may think himself well
off if he escape with only a ducking: we thanked our stars when we got
across; and, wading through a miserable road, and a region of collieries,
arrived at LLANELLY (pronounced Llanithly). About half way between the
ford and this town, we observed Capel Ddewy, a small ruin, picturesquely
accompanied by a yew-tree; and near it the remains of some deserted
furnaces.
In this ride we proceeded at an uncertainty, till we were fortunately
assisted by an agreeable matron, who was churning at the door of her
cottage. Now, as the noise of her employment prevented our hearing each
other, she was obliged to leave off; but, that the interval of a few
moments from labour might not pass unproductively, she caught up her
knitting needles at the same instant, and advanced the fabric of a
stocking while she gave us our directions. Such instances of persevering
industry were frequent throughout the principality; but more particularly
so from hence westward, where not a female was to be seen unemployed in
knitting, however she might be otherwise at work, in carrying loads or
driving cattle.
Llanelly is a small irregular town, and contains an old seat of Sir John
Stepney's, which, though deserted by the family, afforded habitation to
numerous tenants, till the mischievous operation of the window-tax, in
driving them out, left it to moulder in decay. The high square embattled
tower of its church is remarkable, in being much wider at the base than
upwards, forming a sort of cone. This town, however, offering no objects
to detain us, we proceeded without halting, and in a few miles ride
gained the summit of Pembree hill.
Here a marine view of great extent burst upon us; the grand sweep of
Caermarthen bay appeared beneath, terminated on one side by Wormshead
point, and on the other by the insulated rock of Caldy in Pembrokeshire;
the opposite shores of Somerset and Devon formed the distance, faintly
skirting the horizon beyond a vast expanse of sea, studded with numerous
vessels. Looking internally, the country exhibited a strong undulatory
surface, variously chequered with wild heaths and rich cultivation.
Descending the hill, we approached the neat regular-built town of new
KIDWELLY, situated in a narrow well-wooded valley.
[Picture: Kidwelly Castle]
The castle forms a noble object, adjoining the ruins of old Kidwelly on
the opposite bank of the river. Leland says, "the old town is prettily
waullid, and hath hard by the waul a Castel; the old town is nearly al
desolated but the cartel is meately well kept up." This description
applies very well to the present appearance of the place; for, though the
castle is uninhabited, it continues tolerably entire. This fortress was
built soon after the Conquest, by Maurice de Londres, one of the twelve
Norman knights who conquered Glamorganshire; and, after undergoing the
usual vicissitudes of sieges, partial demolition, and different masters,
fell to the crown of England. We were disappointed of an internal
examination of this fine ruin, as the key of the entrance could not
readily be obtained, and we were pressed for time to reach Caermarthen
before dark. The continuance of our route led us on a steep woody bank,
above the romantic course of Kidwelly river; but it soon deviated to the
superior attractions of the Towey; following whose expansive water and
verdant accompaniments, and crossing a long antique bridge, we reached
Caermarthen.
CHAP. III.
CAERMARTHEN--FEMALE LABOURERS--LLANSTEPHAN CASTLE--A FORD--LAUGHARNE
CASTLE--FINE MARINE VIEWS--NEW INN--TENBY.
The situation of Caermarthen, one of the most wealthy and polite towns in
Wales, can scarcely be enough admired; rising above a noble river, and
commanding a full view of one of the most beautiful vales in the kingdom.
Internally, there is less to commend; as most of the streets are very
steep, and irregularly built; yet there are many good private houses,
belonging to the neighbouring gentry that resort here in the winter
months; and a handsome town-hall and some other buildings do credit to
the public spirit of the town, though a solitary church may reflect but
little on its sanctity. Very small remains of the castle, now built up
into a gaol, appear; or of the walls that formerly encompassed the town.
The trade of the place is much facilitated by its fine river, which
conveys ships of a good size up to the bridge.
Caermarthen is the Kaervyrdhin of the Britons, the Maridunum of Ptolemy,
and the Muridunum of Antoninus. The ancient Britons reckoned it the
capital of all Wales: here they held their Parliaments, or Assemblies of
wise men, and here fixed their Chancery and Exchequer. When the Normans
overran Wales, this town severely felt the miseries of war, being often
besieged, and twice burnt by the Welch princes; Gilbert Earl of Clare,
however, at length fixed his power at Caermarthen beyond the reach of
their attempts. This place gave birth to the famous Merlin in the year
480: he appears to have been a man of extraordinary wisdom and learning,
which, no doubt, occasioned him to be looked upon as a magician in that
dark age, and transmitted as such to posterity by Monkish writers, who
always looked with an evil eye upon knowledge possessed out of their
craft. Here also was born Lewis Bayly, chaplain to James the First,
afterwards Bishop of Bangor, and author of the celebrated "Practice of
Piety."
From our comfortable quarters at the Green Dragon, we set out early in
the morning; and, on leaving the town, were more interested than pleased,
in noticing several fine young women who were acting as scavengers, while
one, whose elegance of form defied even her awkward habit to conceal it,
was bending beneath the fatigue of wheeling away the filth in a barrow.
In the same point of view, seated behind a counter, a brawny-fisted
fellow was folding up ribbons and laces. How odious is the employ of
men-milliners! How shameful, that men, who might gain a prosperous
livelihood in a thousand ways, should interfere with almost the only
eligible means which the limited powers and habits of women capacitate
them to adopt for a maintenance! Driven from their natural employ, they
must either have recourse to a cruel drudgery which they were not formed,
and are generally unable, to endure; or wander after subsistence in the
paths of shame and misery, at once a disgrace, a burthen, and a terror to
society. But does our censure more properly fall on these men, for
entering into the pretty dalliance of women's affairs, in preference to
masculine pursuits requiring intellectual and bodily exertion? or on the
ladies, who encourage men, rather than their own sex, in the
fiddle-faddle arrangement of their caps and tuckers?
Passing this group, we soon left the high road, and struck off into a
narrow imbowered lane, up a laborious ascent, toward Llanstephan Castle.
On arriving at the top of the hill, we were amply repaid for our toil by
a most enchanting view over the Vale of the Towey: a stripe of the
richest verdure, intersected with numerous hedgerows and ornamental
plantations, arose on each side of the river; above which, a parallel
range of high-wooded and cultivated hills formed the boundary of the
valley. The extensive town of Caermarthen; the lofty spire of its
church; the ruined castle, and the long old bridge, with several barks
lying near it; were conspicuous objects at a short distance in the
picture; which was considerably enlivened by several gentlemen's seats,
and their appendant decorations. The town of Abergwilly, on the banks of
the river, with the bishop of St. David's palace, an ordinary building,
would also have appeared in the distance; but the termination of the
valley was denied us, by the morning mist not having cleared away.
Pursuing our route, we took every opportunity that intervals in the hedge
afforded, of renewing our treat, and discovered new beauties at each
succeeding station.
At length we parted with this agreeable scenery; and soon after, on a
sudden turn of the lane, came within view of the picturesque ruin of
Llanstephan castle. A farming party also appeared at this instant,
proceeding with goods for Caermarthen market. This group was opened by a
robust young fellow driving a couple of cows; he wore the general dress
of the country, a short blue coarse cloth coat, and breeches of the same
open at the knees; but he also possessed the luxury of shoes and
stockings. A sledge loaded with sacks of grain followed; drawn by a
horse, on which a lusty wench sat astride, as the peasant girls generally
do in Wales; cloathed in a brown jirkin and petticoat, but with her lower
extremities uncovered. She urged on the horse by kicking him with her
bare heels, while her hands were busied in knitting. Two other buxom
bare-legged girls followed on foot, with their fingers similarly
employed, and with large baskets of eggs and poultry on their heads. But
a word on the sledge, the common farming carriage in Wales.--This is a
most simple contrivance, consisting of two rude poles, between which the
horse is placed; their ends trail on the ground, toward which extremity
there are two or three cross bars; a few upright sticks from these
complete the carriage. A comely dame, seated on horse-back, and
accommodated with a sort of side-saddle made with cross rails, was
probably the mistress; she closed the rear; and her superior condition
was evident, in her dark blue worsted stockings, ponderous shoes, and
small brass buckles.
LLANSTEPHAN CASTLE crowns the summit of a bold hill, whose precipitous
base is washed by the sea. Its broken walls inclose a large area; and,
furnished with several encircling earthen ramparts, appear to have
possessed considerable antique strength. From numerous stations it
offers a truly picturesque appearance; and in the approach charmingly
combines with the surrounding landscape; which, ever varying, is
sometimes confined to the woody character; at others, exhibits the wide
estuary, the rocky promontory forming its opposite shore, and the
boundless sea.
[Picture: Llanstephan Castle]
This castle is said to have been built by the sons of Uchtred, prince of
Merionethshire, anno Domini 1138; but soon after fell into the hands of
the Normans and Flemings; in 1145 it was taken from them by Cadelh, son
of Rhys Prince of South Wales; and so vigorously maintained, that the
utmost force which the foreigners could raise was unable to retake it.
However, by the year 1189 it must have been in the possession of the
English, as Caradoc informs us that it was then taken from them by Prince
Rhys.
The village, a neat humble place, is snugly situated beneath the
"Castle-cap'd hill" in a woody hollow; whence we traversed a lofty ridge,
commanding extensive views, to a neighbouring estuary, formed by the Tave
near its junction with the sea. As the tide was out, we could not avail
ourselves of the ferry, but had ample directions where the water might be
crossed; yet, unfortunately, on arriving at the sands, the description of
circumstances received for our guidance proved so general, that we were
unable to select the route intended; and the broad current ran with such
threatening rapidity into the sea, only half a mile distant, that it
would have been highly dangerous to have ventured in upon hazard.
Ignorant how to proceed, and unwilling to return three or four miles for
fresh directions, we gladly observed a couple of young women trudging on
the sands in a direction toward us. The proper place for fording was now
pointed out, where, it was said, the water would scarcely cover our
horses' knees; we deemed it most prudent, however, to let the natives go
first, and they accordingly entered the river, using the precaution of
raising their drapery. We followed close; but the lasses had
considerably underrated the depth of the water, for it took both them and
our horses above their middles; yet so carefully were their clothes held
up, that not a thread was wetted. On reaching the opposite shore, their
petticoats were suffered to descend: my friend and I then looked at each
other, passed an observation, returned our thanks to the damsels, wished
them a good morrow; and under an overhanging rock of red granite, crowned
with the ivy-mantled remains of LAUGHARNE CASTLE, reached the town, an
irregularly built little place, seated on a low bank of the estuary.
Laugharne castle, though not very extensive, and not generally striking
for picturesque disposition, has a noble aspect toward the town. The
foundation of this Castle is not transmitted to us in the Welch annals,
but is, doubtless, of high antiquity; it was occupied, and probably
built, by the Normans and Flemings on their conquest of these parts;
afterwards, in the year 1215, it was besieged and taken by Llewelyn:
Leland says, "it longid some time to the Earl of Northumberland." An
interesting ride, upon a high boundary of the sea, brought us into
PEMBROKESHIRE, at a place called New Inn.
In this progress, extensive views ranging over the Bristol channel were
continual; but one _coup d'oeil_,
High from the summit of a craggy cliff
Hung o'er the deep--
was eminently striking! magnificently beautiful! The whole sweep of
Caermarthen bay, with its several estuaries, high cliffs, and swelling
shores, appeared beneath us, extending in one direction to the extreme
point of Gower, and in the other to the isle of Caldy in Pembrokeshire;
at the latter termination, the picturesque whitened town of Tenby,
romantically built on a tongue of rock projecting into the sea, seemed
issuing from the waves. From the grand amphitheatre of this bay, the eye
roamed, over a vast tract of sea, to the shores of Somerset and Devon,
hear fifty miles distant, faintly penciled on the horizon, and terminated
by the advancing swell of Lundy Island. Further westward, the setting
sun appeared in conjunction with the sea, there widening into the
Atlantic Ocean; its golden effulgence glittered in reflexion from the
waves, and diffused itself over the whole scenery: numerous barks in the
bay, sailing on different tacks, caught partial gleams of illumination;
and a large fleet of ships, entering the channel at a remote distance,
seemed little more than dusky spots on the glistening expanse: the _tout
ensemble_ formed one of the most pleasing marine pictures that I ever
saw.--The sea, viewed under its ordinary circumstances, from a _low_
situation, engages little interest; the angle of vision is then
intersected by the aqueous segment at the distance of four or five miles;
and, with little more breadth of water than one meets with in a river or
lake, the prospect finishes in a mere hard line. The case is far
otherwise when it is viewed from a high mountain, particularly if that
mountain be a bold promontory, and the view bursts upon the spectator on
a sudden: a world of waters then meets his astonished sight; the immense
object presses on his mind an inconceivable emotion; and an image is at
once stamped of the genuine sublime. Filled with the vast idea, he
contemplates with awe and veneration the magnitude of his Creator's
works, and sinks into a proper estimate the puny achievements of man.
From New Inn, a small collection of cottages on the beach, with a large
old mansion, lately modernized, but seemingly of the foundation of
Elizabeth's time, and where (it is to be observed) there is no house of
public entertainment, as the name would imply, we passed, among numerous
collieries belonging to Lord Milford, towards TENBY. This town is
curiously situated on the ridge of a narrow rock projecting into the sea:
a sandy tract connects it with the main land; which being sometimes
overflowed, the town becomes insulated. The streets of Tenby are
inconveniently steep; yet its romantic situation, and commodious sands
for bathing, have lately rendered it a place of fashionable resort. It
has a number of good lodging-houses, with a respectable hotel; and, when
we were there, boasted an overflow of genteel company. The quay was well
lined with vessels, and the whole carried with it an air of opulence.
Here was formerly an important fishery, but that concern is now much
diminished; yet the exportation of coals, has greatly increased, and that
article has become the staple commodity of the place. The remains of
Tenby castle (a Norman structure) are very inconsiderable: the broken
walls appear toward the extremity of the cliff; and below them, I
understand, there are some large natural caverns.
CHAP. IV.
MANORBEER CASTLE--AN ADVENTURE--A DILEMMA--CAREW
CASTLE--LAWRENNY--PEMBROKE--ITS CASTLE--LAMPHEY COURT--STACKPOLE
COURT--BOSHERSTON MEER.
[Picture: Manorbeer Castle]
On a tempestuous day, a day fraught with trouble and alarm, we left
Tenby, and took the Pembroke road traced on a ridge of hills, which
command extensive views over almost the whole of Pembrokeshire, and a
great part of the Bristol channel; but a heavy atmosphere frowned on the
scenery, and threatened a violent storm. Leaving the high road, we
descended toward the sea coast in search of the gloomy remains of
MANORBEER CASTLE, and found the ruin wildly situated as described by
Leland, "between two little hillettes," whose rocky bases repelled the
fury of an angry sea. This fortress appears to have been of Norman
erection; it fell to the Crown in the reign of Henry the First; a grant
from James the First presented it to the Bowens of Trelogne; from them it
descended by marriage into the family of Picton Castle, and in the year
1740 was the property of Sir Erasmus Philips, Bart. The ponderous towers
and massive fragments of this castle denote its original strength and
importance to have been considerable; yet now, deprived of "the pride,
pomp, and circumstance of glorious war," it exhibits a scene so wild and
desolate, as might disclaim all intercourse with man: rank grass clothes
every projection; "the thistle shakes its lonely head" from the windows,
the sea-bird screams through the hall and adders creep where many a
warrior stalked. From our reverie over this gloomy relic of feudal
despotism, we were alarmed by a vivid flash of lightning; a loud clap of
thunder succeeded, which, reverberating through the ruin, had a most
impressive effect: the storm became violent, and seemed to shake the
mouldering battlements of the ruin; "from their hills the groaning oaks
came down, the sea darkly tumbled beneath the blast, and the roaring
waves were climbing against our rocks." A deluging rain now poured down,
and drove us in search of a shelter; the fragments of a spiral staircase
offered a descent to a subterraneous part of the castle, and we entered
the dark recess of a dungeon, whose mysterious gloom and earthy
exhalations might stir up fancy to create things worse
"Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd."
I thought I heard a voice; my friend thought so too: we listened, but
soon smiled at the conjecture; it was probably the hoarse roar of the sea
or "eddying winds:" but the damp air of the dungeon threw a chill over
us, that was even worse than an exposure to the rain; and we were
returning, when a repetition of the noise that we heard before stopped
us: we listened, and distinctly heard more than one human voice; the
words were undistinguishable, but the tone severe and menacing; all was
again silent. My friend and I looked at each other, but neither ventured
to impart his thoughts. Conjecture, however, did not remain idle. Was
this a horde of those barbarous men that we had heard of as inhabiting
these coasts, who, by setting up false lights, betray the unsuspecting
mariners on rocks and shoals, and then plunder the wreck, often murdering
the crew who may attempt to defend their property? Or was it a gang of
smugglers? for such men were known to conceal their stores in
unfrequented ruins, and other wild seclusions. We were inclined to
favour this latter opinion; but derived little satisfaction from it, on
considering that they were scarcely inferior to the former in ferocity;
and that if they discovered us, every thing was to be apprehended from a
brutal policy, to preserve the secret of their hidings place.
Our reflections were broken off by a further noise, and we plainly heard
a hoarse cautioning voice utter, "Only you mind, and we shall have 'em
both." We again appealed to each other's countenances, but no confidence
appeared in either; in silence, I threw out the tuck of my stick; my
friend drew a sword from his; for we were so far armed against attack.
Again all was hushed; and we ventured to raise ourselves from the
dungeon, in order to catch a glimpse of the people with whom we had to
deal; when a strong flash of lightning illuminated the whole ruin; and
from an aperture near its base; we saw two men emerge; the one armed with
a gun, the other with a spade:--I thought I had never seen two such
murderous-hooking fellows: we shrunk to our concealment instinctively;
yet not without an apprehension that we had been seen. But our
sensations may be easier imagined than described, when within a few yards
one of them was heard to say, "Why did you not bring your gun? I
shou'dn't wonder if one got away:" which was answered by, "Only you make
sure of one, and I'll engage to knock the other's brains out."
Now knowing the worst, we determined on sallying out; if possible, to
reach a little village that we had observed at no great distance; or, if
discovered, to endeavour upon closing in with the gunsman before he could
take aim! We sprang forward together, and had nearly reached the great
entrance when the gun went off; and in the same moment I saw my friend
extended among the fragments of the ruin:--without stopping, I rushed on
toward the ruffian, hoping to use my stick with good effect before the
piece could be re-loaded; when, passing under the portal, down the
crevice where formerly the portcullis was suspended, a large fox darted
and passed before me. A loud voice now exclaimed, "Dang it you've missed
hur;" and with no less joy than astonishment I beheld my friend
brandishing his sword behind me; we said nothing, but pushed on together,
and, suddenly turning an angle, met the villains face to face. Again joy
and astonishment struggled for pre-eminence;--they recoiled from us, and,
dropping their weapons, with a loud yell darted out of sight!
Such dastardly conduct may appear irreconcilable with the ferocious
design of which we suspected them; but cowardice is no stranger to
cruelty; and the direct tenor of their expressions forbade a rising
suggestion that they intended us no harm. Gathering up the gun and spade
as trophies of our victory, and remounting our horses, which remained as
they were left, tied up in a nook, we proceeded to the neighbouring
village, or rather two or three cottages. By the way I learned, that
upon the report of the gun, my friend fell in consequence of turning
short upon the slippery fragments of the ruin. On our approaching the
village, a number of men, women, and children, appeared crowding together
with great eagerness; and we were no sooner perceived, than an evident
alarm pervaded the cluster, in which was included the two ruffians.
However, the peaceable demeanour of the tourists, and the superiority of
numbers on the side of the natives, united in procuring a parley; when it
evidently appeared that a double misconception had taken place: the men
in whose countenances we had read the prognostics of homicide, turned out
to be two honest young farmers, who had traced a couple of notorious
robbers that had long infested the neighbourhood (a brace of foxes) to
their retreat in the castle ruins. This account brought with it a new
application of the sentences that we had heard, and we were ashamed of
our misconstruction; but the men were not behindhand with us; for, as
they frankly declared, from our sudden appearance, they took us either
for ghosts or devils. The gun and spade were now returned; and, instead
of a deadly encounter, an exchange of good wishes took place, on our
leaving the villagers in the pursuit of our journey.
By the time we had reascended to the turnpike, the evening was closing
apace; and this circumstance, with the uncomfortable state of the
weather, made it a great object with us to take up our night's quarters
as soon as possible. Pembroke was eight miles distant, Carew (called
Carey) only two or three, as we were informed by some country-people; we
therefore struck off into a bridle-road for the latter place, under their
direction; but soon found ourselves at a loss which to choose of three
roads that presented themselves; yet, seeing no one of whom we could
enquire, we were obliged to advance at hazard; and, after a long ride
through mire and loose stones, on meeting with a cottager, were directed
to return all the way back, and take a different route. This vexatious
task performed, we found ourselves again at a loss, and again took a
false route. We were now completely enveloped in the darkness of night;
the weather continued stormy; and our craggy road hardly wore the
distinctness of a track. In this forlorn condition we slowly paced on,
not exclaiming like Ossian's chief, "Let clouds rest on the hills,
spirits fly, and travellers fear; let the winds of the woods arise, the
sounding storms descend; roar streams, and windows flap, and green-winged
meteors fly; rise the pale moon from behind her hills, or inclose her
head in clouds, night is alike to me, blue, stormy, or gloomy the sky."
Alas! it made a sensible difference to us; but at length a distant
glimmering of light appeared between the trees, which we gladly traced to
a lonely cottage. Here, on our calling out, a tall raw-boned man opened
the door, and discovered three others who were regaling round a blazing
hearth: these were all miners in a neighbouring coal-work. The uniform
black appearance of this group, their long matted, hair half hiding their
faces, which caught a ferocious turn from the strong partial light of the
fire, was not calculated to inspire prepossession in their favour; but,
though in the exterior repulsive as their cheerless occupation, their
hearts were not estranged from sensations of benevolence; and yet, so
little had they of refinement, as to offer no complimentary condolence on
hearing of our difficulties; even yet more unfashionably by actual
services they relieved them. "Masters," said one of the men, "if you'll
but step in a minute while I finish my mess of porridge, I'll put you
into the right road; it can't be darker than it is; do sit down, and let
me put your horses in the cow-house; I suppose you wou'dn't like our fare
(it was a mess of barley and greens stewed with a bit of meat or bacon);
but mother can give you a drop of good mead, and some decentish bread and
butter." This invitation, with the manner in which it was conveyed,
offered a relief that neither of us was inclined to reject; for, indeed,
we had tasted nothing since breakfast, and besides found that some barley
might be had for our horses. So seating ourselves in the chimney corner,
we partook of the refreshments brought us by an old withered matron, who
finished a scene forming a lively counterpart to that of the cavern in
Gil Blas. Our dame soon took a leading part in conversation; she
gratefully expatiated on the bounty of Providence in sending us a
plentiful year, and lamented the misery that prevailed last winter, when,
she declared, they were all starving, and many of her neighbours died
outright of hunger. This statement I found general throughout the
country. We left this humble but hospitable roof with regret; nor was it
without much difficulty that we could prevail on our hostess to accept of
a trifling acknowledgement for her favours.
We again set forward through mire and darkness, conducted by one of the
men, who beguiled the time with stories of ghosts that had been seen at
Manorbeer castle. At length it became somewhat lighter, and we parted
with our friendly guide upon his shewing us the strait road to CAREW.
"Cold and comfortless," we knocked at the inn door (for inn is the name
of every alehouse in Wales); when, to put a finishing stroke to the
troubles of this eventful day, we learned that they had neither beds for
us nor stabling for our horses; but we had previously heard, that the
village boasted two inns, and accordingly went to the other: a similar
information, however, awaited us here; with the additional intelligence,
that there was not a stable in the village, and only one spare bed, which
was at the other alehouse; there was no alternative; we were constrained
to turn our tired and hungry horses into a field, and go back to the
first house.
Here our apartment served not only "for parlour and kitchen and hall,"
but likewise for bed-room: every thing was in unison, the discoloured
state of the walls and furniture; the care-worn looks of our host and
hostess; our scanty fare, consisting of hard barley bread and salt
butter; with nauseating ale, that even our keen appetites rejected; all
betokened poverty and wretchedness: while in the bed, which extended from
one side of the room to the other, two children were sending forth the
most discordant yells; the one suffering a violent toothache, and the
other crying because its brother cried. After enduring this scene of
purgatory upwards of an hour, we were shewn to our bed: it was a recess
built in an adjoining room, and furnished with a bag of straw, which was
kept in its place by a couple of boards crossing the niche. In the same
room was another bed, where two more pledges of our landlord's tender
passion continued to torment us. Vexed with accumulating plagues, we
threw ourselves half undressed on the bed; but our evil destiny had yet
more troubles in store;--the sheets were wringing wet; so that we had
reason to expect that on the morrow we should be laid up with colds or
fevers; but this apprehension was soon superseded; for a legion of fleas
attacked us at all points with such persevering ferocity, that we were
kept in motion the whole night; a number of rats also, by gamboling among
our straw, while others were busy in grating a sally port through the
partition, held us in the fidgets; and thus the danger of obstructed
circulation was avoided. We had just left off cursing rustic
accommodation, and the itch for travelling which had led us to these
sufferings, when the door opened; no light appeared, but the sound of
footsteps, softly treading, passed near us. Suspecting foul play, we
instantly sprang up, and caught hold of a poor ragged girl, who acted as
maid of the inn, and was going to sleep with the children in the other
bed.
This kind of rural accommodation may appear very diverting in a
narrative; but to those accustomed to better fare, it will be found a
very serious evil. Indeed, from this specimen we afterwards made it a
rule to finish our day's journey at a good town; in consequence of which
salutary resolution, except in one or two instances, we were never
without a comfortable lodging. This caution is very practicable in South
Wales, as the most interesting part of the country is well furnished with
accommodation.
[Picture: Carew Castle]
On issuing from our house of mortification, we were regaled with a fine
view of CAREW CASTLE, situated on a gentle swell above an arm of
Milford-haven. Its extensive remains shew it to have been rather a
splendid palace, than a mere fortress; and it evidently appears the work
of different ages. The North front, a portion-looking over the river, is
scarcely castellated, but exhibits the mode of building in use about the
time of Henry the Eighth. From the level of this front, the windows,
square and of grand dimensions, project in large bows: internally, this
part is highly ornamented; and a chimney-piece with Corinthian columns
appears among the latest decorations of the structure. The great hall,
built in the ornamented Gothic style, though much dilapidated, is still a
noble relic of antique grandeur. Other parts of the building are of more
remote date, and most of the walls are remarkably thick and of solid
masonry: a peculiarity to be noticed; as the Welch castles are chiefly
constructed of grout-work. {62} The subterraneous dungeons are
remarkably extensive, and assimilate with the grandeur of the general
design. This castle was anciently a residence of the Welch princes, and
given by one of them (Rhys ap Theodore), with extensive lands, as a
marriage portion with his daughter, to Gerald de Cario, an Anglo-Norman
chieftain, and ancestor of the last proprietor of the castle; who,
according to the tradition of the neighbourhood, died a hundred and
seventy years ago; since which time the castle has been left to decay.
Here many a lofty tower of once menacing aspect lies hid in a leafy
umbrage. The spacious hall, that in feudal ages glittered baronial
splendor, is now engrafted with ivy, or in mouldering fragments lies an
undistinguished heap with the common earth: where once was attuned the
sweet song of minstrelsy, is now heard the hoarse note of the raven; no
more the high-wrought arras shakes mysteriously from the walls, but an
unaffected profusion of ivy mantles the forsaken apartments; beasts graze
where dark-plumed barons sat arrayed; and the hallowed chamber of "my
lady bright" is become the resort of bats and screech-owls.
Here the enthusiast, while scanning Gothic halls and "cloud-cap'd
towers," may feel his mind transported to the ages of chivalry, and image
all the pageantry of feudal shews! Or, in more humble mood, may look
upon their faded grandeur, and venerate a silent monitor of human
ostentation.
As we admired the picturesque beauty of this scene, or indulged in the
moral reflections to which it gave rise, we forgot our inconveniences and
fatigue, and cheerfully returned to the inn. Our horses were in waiting:
poor animals! they had no intellectual set-off to solid ill fare that
they met with; but, unrid of the previous day's mire, proceeded with us
on the road to Pembroke. On leaving the village, we observed a Gothic
cross on the side of the road, about twelve or fourteen feet high, and
apparently formed of a single stone: it was carved all over with knots
and scrolls, but we did not stop to examine it minutely. On ascending a
hill, we had a grand view of the castle: indeed, it is from the south and
south-west alone that its important dimensions fully appear: hence also
we saw the elevated mansion of LAWRENNY, seated on a lofty bank of an arm
of Milford-haven, and beautifully accompanied with wood and lawn. This
place, particularly excelling in natural beauties, is considered as one
of the first seats in Pembrokeshire; and we understood that it had
received much improvement from the taste and liberality of Mr. Barlow,
the present proprietor. A ride on an elevated ridge, which but for the
morning mists would have commanded extensive views, brought us to
Pembroke.
The town of PEMBROKE principally consists of one wide street built along
the ridge of a hill (washed by an arm of Milford-haven), and terminated
at one extremity by its castle. Although of late declining in commercial
importance, the aspect of the town is neat and genteel. Leland says of
this town in his time, "it is welle wauled and hath iii gates, est, west,
and north; of the wich the est gate is fairest and strongest, having
afore hit a compasid tour, not rofid; in the entering where of is a
Portcalys, _ex solido ferro_." Of these erections there are now but very
imperfect remains; we observed, however, that the north gate was still in
tolerable repair.
[Picture: Pembroke Castle]
PEMBROKE CASTLE is a noble ruin, seated on a cliff above the river.
Caradoc of Llancaroon says, that it was founded by Arnulph, son to the
Earl of Shrewsbury, anno 1094; but Giraldus Cambrensis fixes the time of
its erection in the reign of Henry the First, and the rounded arches that
occur in the building determine its foundation not to have been later
than that prince's reign. The most remarkable features of this ruin are,
the grand entrance, which is still entire; and the juliet, or high round
tower, the antient citadel, which has still the "Rofe of stone almost in
conum; the top whereof is covered with a flat mille stone;" as described
by Leland. The walls of this tower are fourteen feet in thickness; its
diameter within is twenty-five feet, and its height to the top of the
dome seventy-five feet: from mortices in the walls, this tower appears to
have been divided into four floors. The ruined chapel also is a
conspicuous object viewed externally;--and immediately underneath it, in
the body of the rock, is the Wogan, a grand cavern deemed natural: if it
be so, however, Nature has taken more pains in turning it correctly
circular, and raising its elevated roof, than she generally is found to
have done in works of this kind. Its diameter is fifty-three feet; and
just within the entrance we observed a spiral staircase which led through
the rock to the chapel within the castle. From the foundations of an
outwork, which we traced among shrubs and brambles on the margin of the
river, opposite the cavern's mouth, it appears to have been less a place
of concealment than an avowed sally-port, or regular entrance from the
river. The castle is remarkable in history for having been the
birth-place of Henry the Seventh; and also for the gallant defence that
it made for Charles the First.
About two miles from Pembroke, near the road to Tenby, is LAMPHEY COURT,
an episcopal palace belonging to the see of St. David's; and, after the
alienation, a residence of Lord Essex's, the favourite of Elizabeth.
This dilapidated structure is chiefly remarkable for a light parapet,
raised on arches encircling the building, similar to the one noticed at
Swansea. From Pembroke, a road extends southward through an
uninteresting district to STACKPOOLE COURT, the seat of Lord Cawdor,
situated in a deep romantic valley near the sea-coast. The mansion is
worthy of its noble owner; and the finely-wooded park and grounds exhibit
a more luxuriant verdure than might be expected so near a sea-beat
promontory. A short distance westward, upon the coast, is St. Govin's
chapel; and near it, a well of the same name, thought by the country
people to be miraculous in the cure of several disorders. We have since
regretted our not visiting the sea-cliffs in this neighbourhood, which we
are told assume a very grand and romantic appearance. In the same
neighbourhood we find described BOSHERSTON-MEER, "a pool of water so deep
that it could never be sounded; yet before a storm it is said to bubble,
foam, and make a noise so loud as to be heard at several miles distance.
The banks are of no great circumference at the top, but broader
downwards, and at a considerable depth is a great breach towards the sea,
which is about a furlong distant, and is supposed to have a subterraneous
communication with it." {67}
CHAP. V.
LITTLE ENGLAND BEYOND WALES--MILFORD-HAVEN--WELCH BEAUTIES--HAVERFORDWEST
FAIR--THE TOWN, CASTLE, AND PRIORY--PICTON CASTLE--HUBBERSTON--MILFORD.
In the reign of Henry the First, a colony of Flemings, driven from their
country by an inundation, were permitted to settle in the western
neighbourhood of Milford-haven. These were often attacked by the Welch,
but unsuccessfully: they soon extended their territory over a great part
of the county, and, in conjunction with the Normans, carried their arms
as far as Llanstephan. Camden calls this district, "LITTLE ENGLAND
beyond Wales;" and the difference of appearance, customs, and language,
between the inhabitants of southern Pembrokeshire and their neighbours,
is strikingly obvious at the present day. The tourist in
Caermarthenshire will scarcely meet a peasant who speaks a word of
English; but in an hour's ride, towards Pembroke, he will find it
universally spoken. I remarked this to mine host at Carew; who
exultingly assured me, that Pembrokeshire was out of Wales; that he (a
native of the place) was an Englishman; and that for his part he did not
understand any thing of the Welch gibberish.
The men, tall and well made, evidently incline more to the English
character than the Welch; yet they possess some personal traits distinct
from either: I imagined, indeed, in many of the peasantry a resemblance
to the present inhabitants of Flanders. Although this corner of the
principality is the most remote from England, it is the most civilized.
This may be accounted for, from the commercial habits brought over by the
Flemings (which still continue) introducing the manners of other nations;
an advantage denied to the generality of the Welch, whose ancient
(perhaps wholesome) prejudices disinclined them to extensive commerce.
We took our final departure from Pembroke, on the road to Haverfordwest,
not without often looking back on the princely relics of its castle,
towering above the river: but, crossing a ridgy eminence, our attention
was diverted by the appearance of MILFORD-HAVEN.
This noble harbour, immortalized by the strains of our great dramatic
poet, is of an oblong figure; about ten miles in length, and from one to
two in width. It is justly considered as the best and safest in Great
Britain, and inferior to none in Europe; abounding with the best
anchorage, and having five bays, ten creeks, and thirteen roads. Two
forts that were erected in the time of Elizabeth on the opposite points
of the entrance, called Nangle and Dale blockhouses, are now neglected.
As a picturesque object, Milford-haven is chiefly interesting for its
noble sheet of water: its peaceable shores, rising in gentle hills, may
please from their flowing outline; but, uncloathed with wood, and
unbroken into crags or precipices, their sameness fails to interest an
eye habituated to bolder scenery. The mouth of the haven, turning
suddenly southward, gives it from most points of view the appearance of a
lake. It very strongly reminded me of several of the lakes in
Cumberland; but, although its surface is greater; the lakes far transcend
it in the accompanyments of rock and wood, and a sedgy margin that mixes
its verdure with the water: whereas the haven is surrounded by a broad
stripe of mud, except at high tide: this defect, however, is constituent
to all estuaries and tide rivers. More richly decorative in their
scenery are the three branches of Milford-haven, which diverge at the
extremity of the great bason, and distribute fertility and beauty over
the principal part of Pembrokeshire. {71} It was our intention to have
crossed these branches at Lawrenny and Landshipping, and to have taken
Picton castle and Slebatch in our way to Haverfordwest; but, not having a
whole day before us, considering the time due to the several objects, and
learning that the ferries were uncertain, we recollected our sufferings
at Carew, and by taking the direct road to Haverford avoided the risk of
being again benighted. {72}
We were detained at the ferry near an hour; for the embarkation and
passage of three carriages and their horses from the opposite side
occupied all the boats during that time. But, although restless enough
ourselves, we were not the most anxious part of a company that was
waiting for a passage: several young men and near twenty young women, all
dressed in their holiday-clothes, were panting for the amusements of
Haverfordwest fair: perhaps a description of these lasses may convey some
idea of Pembrokean beauty.
Health, contentment, and cheerfulness, combined, formed their predominant
expression: yet it might be truly said, in the words of Gray,
"O'er their warm cheeks and rising bosoms move,
The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love,"
A roundish oval circumscribed their faces; their eyes, not over large, of
a dark blue, unstrained by the wakeful vigils of fashionable revelry,
displayed all the native brilliancy of those interesting organs; their
noses, though of the snub kind, were well formed; and pretty pouting lips
were ever ready to distend into a smile, on which occasion rows of ivory
appeared, such as could hardly be matched out of Pembrokeshire. {73} The
tendency to _embonpoint_, so characteristic of the Welch woman, was by no
means displeasing in these young and elastic subjects; whatever was lost
in elegance, was compensated in another point of view; their necks, of
the most luxuriant prominence,
"With youth wild throbbing"--
were modestly handkerchiefed to their throats; yet did the thin gauze
covering, closely embracing the proud distensions of nature, only the
more bewitchingly manifest the beauties which it was appointed to
conceal. Their other proportions were in unison, and, as a jockey, who
was also going to the fair, coarsely, but clearly, observed, "full of
hard meat." In truth, among them, it were no difficult matter to find
what Homer would, call--[Greek text]. The dress of the Welch women,
however, is not calculated to set off their persons: a close mob cap has
little grace, especially when surmounted with a round felt hat; and their
very long waists, and brown or plaid cloth jackets and petticoats, but
render the rotundity of their foundations more unpicturesque. It cannot
at present be said, that:
--"their tender limbs
Float in the loose simplicity of dress."
yet, as the smart girls begin to imitate our English modes, in the course
of a few years every contour of nature may be as free public inspection
in Wales, as it is at present in the polite circles of the metropolis.
Crossing the ferry, we left this interesting group; and, in proceeding up
a high bank of the haven, enjoyed a fine view of its expansive surface,
and grand undulating shores. About half-way to Haverfordwest a new scene
burst upon us, consisting of a wide luxuriant valley, watered by a large
arm of Milford-haven. We were denied a distinct view of this scene by a
hazy atmosphere; but are informed that it is uncommonly rich and
extensive in clear weather. On approaching the town of Haverfordwest up
a laborious ascent, we passed through the fair, which is held just
without the town. Black cattle and horses were the chief objects of the
meeting, which had scarcely any diversions; no shews: nor any jugglers,
except a recruiting party, and two or three cattle jobbers, or middle
men, who agreed upon the price of the market, while the actual buyers and
sellers stood gaping at each other, in amazement how such prices could be
obtained! Perhaps they had to learn, that for an _indispensable
commodity_, exclusively held by a set of men whose interests are common,
_any_ price may be obtained! But we had some rural sports: a party of
rustics were dancing on the green, to the notes of a miserable scraper;
yet of him it could not be said,
"Old Orpheus play'd so well he mov'd old Nick;
But thou mov'st nothing but thy fiddle-stick,"
for the reeking brows of his company very plainly evinced the laborious
agitation that he had excited. Close by, a game at see-saw seemed to
create much diversion among the bye-standers. We joined in the throng,
and were entertained with a good-natured dispute between a comely lad and
as blythe a lass as any the fair could boast: they were in the midst of
their acquaintance; and we learned from one of them, that on the
following Sunday they were to be married: he wished her to ride with him
at see-saw, and she persisted in refusing; he hauled her to no purpose,
until a sharp-looking little girl said, that if she were in his place she
would put off the wedding for a fortnight, to be revenged; a loud laugh
succeeded this, at the expence of the bride-elect; but the allusion to
matrimony forced no downcast confusion on the lass; perhaps her rosy
dimples were painted with a deeper hue; yet the suffusion arose rather
from a glowing idea, than a sensation of unnecessary shame: wherefore
should she be ashamed of the approaching fulfilment of her long-cherished
wishes?--I do not know whether she feared that her lover might adopt the
advice of her mischievous friend, or whether it was the natural
compliance of the sex disqualifying them for stout denial, that acted
upon her; but she at length yielded. Alas, poor damsel! she was not yet
an adept at see-saw; and a verification of Buxoma's mischance was
witnessed by the whole Company:
"_Cuddy_.--Across the fallen oak the plant I laid,
And myself pois'd against the tott'ring maid.
High leap'd the plank, adown Buxoma fell:
I spy'd--but faithful sweethearts never tell."
The town of HAVERFORDWEST irregularly built on the steep bank of the
river HIA, may now be considered as the capital of Pembrokeshire; as well
on account of its superior extent and opulence, as from its having lately
become the place of the grand session. But the streets are narrow and
dirty, and so steep as to be seriously dangerous. A few good houses,
among which is a residence of the dowager lady Kensington, start up here
and there; but in such situations, as to convey no look of importance to
the place. However commerce may have diffused wealth through this town,
and proclaimed it the successful rival of Pembroke; yet, compared with
the clean, placid, and respectable mien of the latter, it ensures no
pre-eminence of esteem from the tourist: it may, indeed, present to him
the idea of a purse-proud shop-keeper, strutting before a decayed
gentleman.
The castle, seated on a cliff adjoining the town, is said to have been
built by Gilbert Earl of Clare, in the reign of King Stephen, and was
occupied by the Flemings. Though still possessing considerable portions
of its former importance, yet, engrafted with modern additions to fit it
for the county jail, it has little picturesque attraction. A wall
connected with the castle, which once surrounded the town, is still in
part standing: a good quay, a custom house, a free school, a charity
school, and an alms house, are among the public concerns of this town.
Of three churches that it boasts, that of St. Mary is a neat building;
and its spire, covered with shingles and warped from the perpendicular,
has a curious effect. A short distance southward of the town, near the
river, are some remains of a priory of Black cantons, founded by John de
Haverford.
An excursion of three or four miles led us to PICTON CASTLE, the noble
seat of lord Milford, whose extensive domains cover a great part of the
surrounding country. This may be considered as one of the most antique
residences in the kingdom, having been built by William de Picton, a
Norman knight, in the reign of William Rufus. Upon his line's becoming
extinct, it descended to the Wogans, then to the Dones, and afterwards to
the Philipses of Kylsant; and during the Civil Wars, Sir Richard Philips
made a long and vigorous defence in it for King Charles. It is one of
the very few castles that escaped the dilapidations of Cromwell, and is
also remarkable for having been always inhabited; yet the alterations and
additions of successive occupiers have not deprived it of its embattled
figure. The extensive and delightful plantations of this seat unite with
those of Slebatch, a handsome house built by the late Mr. Barlow, and now
in the possession of Mr. Philips.
In another excursion from Haverfordwest, passing Johnston, an old seat of
Lord Kensington's, to the obliging communications of which nobleman I
feel myself greatly indebted, we reached HUBBERSTON HAIKIN, a fishing
town in Milford-haven, whence the Waterford packets depart from Britain.
This is a poor place, and ill-supplied with accommodation for travellers;
but at the still smaller town of MILFORD, on the opposite side of the
river, we were informed, a good inn is established. Near Hubberston are
the small remains of a priory, consisting chiefly of the gate-house; but
of what foundation or order no legend informs us.
CHAP. VI.
JOURNEY OVER THE PRECELLY MOUNTAIN TO CARDIGAN--EXTENSIVE
PROSPECT--CARDIGAN--ST. DOGMAEL'S PRIORY--ANOTHER ROUTE FROM
HAVERFORDWEST TO CARDIGAN, BY ST. DAVID'S--THE CATHEDRAL OF ST.
DAVID'S--GRAND RUINS OF ITS PALACE--A LOGGAN, OR ROCKING STONE--RAMSAY
ISLAND--FISHGUARD--NEWPORT--KILGARRAN CASTLE--SALMON LEAP--NEWCASTLE.
The choice of our journey from Haverfordwest {81} to Cardigan was a
matter of some difficulty; we were desirous of traversing the Precelly
Mountain, but could not think of leaving the ruins of St. David's
unexamined. At last we hit upon the expedient of each taking a different
road: my companion, having the better horse, took the circuitous route by
St. David's; and I, the direct road over the mountains.
Proceeding upon this arrangement two of three miles, I halted to take a
retrospective view of the country. Haverfordwest new wore a singular
appearance, with its houses piled on each other; but, accompanied by a
fine river well furnished with vessels, and by its bridge and massive
castle, it presented an agreeable picture. At some distance westward,
the lofty tower of Roche castle was conspicuous; and partly in the same
direction, the Trogan rocks, rising from the verdure in abrupt crags, so
as to be generally mistaken for stupendous ruins. Turning to the east,
within a short distance appeared an ancient encampment called ST.
LEONARD'S RATHE, crowning a bold eminence; this work is circular, and,
from the height of its vallum and depth of its ditch, may be attributed
to the Saxons.
As I advanced from this spot I parted with the beauties of the country:
no objects of interest occurred; the unadorned views became compressed in
narrow limits, until at length they were shut up in mountainous hollows.
In this dreary track stands a poor solitary house called New inn, half
way between Haverford and Cardigan: however, I here obtained part of a
goose for my dinner, and then proceeded up the PRECELLY MOUNTAIN.
This mountain, reckoned the highest in South Wales, is part of a great
ridge crossing Pembrokeshire in a direction East and West. On gaining
the summit, a prodigious extent of prospect burst upon me. In front, a
wild hilly tract, yet not undiversified with patches of cultivation,
stretched nearly to the northern confines of South Wales, where the pale
summit of Plinlimmon, in Montgomeryshire, might be just distinguished
from the atmospheric blue: more westward, beyond a vast expanse of sea,
like a doubtful mist rising from it, appeared Bardsey island, and the
neighbouring shores in Caernarvonshire; and looking across the miserable
country about Fishguard and St. David's, my guide assured me, that "on a
very clear day a very good eye might discover the mountains of Ireland;"
but, I confess, it was not my good fortune to discover any such
appearance. On looking backward, the whole of the interesting country
that I had travelled in the neighbourhood of Milford-haven appeared in
one comprehensive though distant display. From dwelling a considerable
time on these extensive scenes, I traversed an uninteresting country made
up of lumpy hills, and left Pembrokeshire in crossing the handsome old
bridge of Cardigan.
CARDIGAN (in Welch chronicles Abertivy {84}) is a neat respectable town,
though many of its streets are narrow and steep, seated on the north bank
of the river Tivy, near its junction with the sea: the river is navigable
for ships of small burthen up to the quay, which enables the inhabitants
to carry on a pretty brisk trade with Ireland. This town, though small,
is governed by a mayor, thirteen aldermen, and as many common councilmen.
The ruins of its castle, appearing on a low cliff at the foot of the
bridge, are very inconsiderable, scarcely showing more than the fragments
of two circular bastions overgrown with ivy; yet it was once a large and
important fortress. Its foundation is ascribed to Gilbert de Clare,
about the year 1160; but it was soon after taken, and in part destroyed,
by Rhys ap Gryffith. {85}
Here are also the remains of a priory of Black monks, which was dedicated
to St. Mary, and was subordinate to the abbey of Chertsey in Surrey.
Near Cardigan, in the year 1136, the English army, commanded by Ranolph
earl of Chester, was shamefully worsted, and the two barons Robert Fitz
Roger and Pain Fitz John, with 3000 others, slain on the spot, besides a
great number drowned by the fall of a bridge. In this battle the English
soldiers appeared to be planet-struck, surrendering themselves prisoners
to mere old women; and the general with a few men made their escape not
without great difficulty.
[Picture: St. Dogmael's Priory]
Early in the morning after my reaching Cardigan, I made an excursion in
search of ST. DOGMAEL'S PRIORY, about a mile and a half distant. This
fragment of antiquity is very much dilapidated, and boasts scarcely any
picturesque appearance; the few parts standing are converted into barns,
sheds, and habitations; but enough remains to shew the original extent of
the church; which was cruciform, of no considerable dimensions, and of
the early Gothic style; in the cemetery adjoining the ruin, and the
village church,
--"a church-yard yew,
Decay'd and worn with age,"
has a pleasing characteristic effect: and here the scene, finely
interspersed with wood, and overlooking the Tivy, is undoubtedly
picturesque. This priory was founded for Benedictine monks by Martin de
Turribus, a Norman chieftain, who first conquered the surrounding
territory called Kames or Kemish, and deluged it with the blood of its
natives. This was a common trick for cheating the devil, practised by
the organized plunderers of that day. After pillaging a country, and
enslaving or massacreing the legitimate proprietors, they hoped to
expiate their crime, and quell the rising qualms of conscience, by
appropriating a part of their booty to a monkish foundation--to a set of
idle jugglers, scarcely less inimical to the rights of society, though
less ferocious, than themselves.
Returning to the inn, I rejoined my fellow-tourist, who had just
completed his circuit of between forty and fifty miles round the coast:
of this route I learn the following particulars:
From Haverfordwest the road passes neat the elevated ruin of Roche
castle; thence extends through a wild dreary country, near St. Bride's
dangerous bay, and crossed the romantic creek of Solva to the once
flourishing city of ST. DAVID'S, now in appearance an inconsiderable
village. This deserted place occupies a gentle eminence on that
projecting rocky cape called St. David's head. In a sheltered hollow
beneath the town, are the noble ruins of the Metropolitan episcopacy of
Wales; yet the CATHEDRAL OF ST. DAVID'S, though long a mouldering pile,
having lately undergone a thorough repair, with a just attention to the
antique style of architecture, now appears in renewed magnificence. This
venerable structure is cruciform, of large dimensions, and of the early
Gothic architecture, though not without much of the high-wrought
fret-work additions of later ages. The nave alone wears all the
simplicity of its original construction; the tower, highly ornamented,
rises from the middle of the church to the height of 127 feet; Bishop
Vaughan's chapel behind the choir, and the dilapidated one of St. Mary's,
exhibit all the elegant tracery of the ornamented Gothic; as does also
the chapter-house, and St. Mary's hall, now a ruin. Among the numerous
ancient monuments that are to be met with in the church and its chapels,
those of Owen Tudor, and Edward Earl of Richmond, father of Henry the
VIIth, both situated near the middle of the choir, are worthy of notice.
The episcopal palace is a superb ruin, surmounted with a light parapet
raised upon arches, in the style of Swansea castle and Lamphey court.
"The area of the great court is 120 feet square; on the east side of
which is the Bishop's hall, 58 feet in length, and 23 in breadth; the
King's hall, on the south side, is 88 feet by 80. This grand saloon is
said to have been built expressly for the reception of King John, on his
return from Ireland in 1211." But we are informed by Godwin, that the
palace itself was not erected until about the year 1335: which must be an
anachronism, unless the story of King John be unfounded. The first hall
is a grand room; but the latter has been particularly splendid. Over the
fine arched entrance are the statues of King John and his queen; and at
the cast end is a curious circular window with bars diverging from the
centre, still in a perfect condition. The chapel containing the remains
of a font, and kitchen amply furnished with four chimneys, are also
entire: nor are the forsaken apartments deficient in proofs of the regal
splendor assumed by the Romish pastors of Christian humility.
Many ruinous buildings, once habitations of ecclesiastical functionaries,
surround the cathedral; yet sufficient are kept in repair for the
diminished number of officers now appointed: the cathedral service is,
nevertheless, performed with an attention that would do credit to more
eminent establishments. The whole of these buildings are inclosed by a
wall eleven hundred yards in circumference.
St. David's is supposed to have been a Roman station, the Octapitarum of
Ptolemy; and here St. Patrick is said to have founded a monastery to the
honour of St. Andrew in the year 470: to this place St. David translated
the archbishopric of Wales, from Caerleon, about the year 577, and
founded the cathedral, which was afterwards dedicated to him; but the
primacy was withdrawn, and annexed to that of Canterbury, in the reign of
Henry the First. Here also a college was founded for a master and seven
priests by John Duke of Lancaster, in conjunction with his wife and the
Bishop of the diocese, in the year 1369.
At the extremity of St. David's promontory is a disjointed craig; so
large, that it is supposed a hundred oxen could not drag it away; but so
placed on smaller stones, as to have been easily rocked by the pressure
of a man's hand. {91}
In druidical ages, this formed the grand ordeal: if a man was to appear
guilty, the priests managed that he should apply his pressure near the
axis, and the stone remained immoveable; but if his peace or priest
offerings were deemed commensurate to his sins, he was instructed to lean
near the extremity, and it easily gave way. Near this head-land is
Ramsay island, a fruitful little spot, and once particularly so in
holiness, if we may credit ancient histories, which state that no less
than twenty thousand saints lie interred in it. The dangerous rocks
called the Bishop and his Clerks, near this island, are covered with wild
fowl in the breeding season.
The road continues on a barren tempestuous waste to Fishguard, a
miserable fishing town, only remarkable for the late descent of 1400
French invaders, who, after a few days possession of the neighbourhood,
surrendered to the Welch peasantry, headed by Lord Cawdor. Newport, a
few miles farther, is another poor fishing town, at the bottom of a small
bay: the ruined castle, seated on a hill above the town, was built by the
Anglo-norman settlers in 1215, but afterwards nearly destroyed by
Llewellyn. In Nevern churchyard, near Newport, is the shaft of a stone
cross about thirteen feet high, curiously carved all over with scrolls
and knots. At Pentere Evau, in Nevern parish, is a circle of rude
stones, 150 feet in circumference; in the midst whereof is a cromlech
{92} of great dimensions: in the same parish is another altar monument,
called Llech-y-drybedh, having a furrow in the flat stone, which might be
to carry off the blood of the victims. In Grose's Antiquities, five
stone altars are stated to be in this neighbourhood, and also four
barrows; one of which, on being opened, was found to contain five urns
full of burnt bones. Nothing worthy of particular notice occurs from
this spat to Cardigan.
We projected an aquatic excursion, to explore the scenery of the Tivy;
but, the tide not answering, we were obliged to desert the river for two
or three miles, and proceed by land to Kilgarran. The Tivy above
Cardigan becomes environed by high hills, whose approaching bases
contract the bed of the river, changing its character from a broad and
majestic, to an impetuous eddying stream: the sides of these hills rise
from the water in almost perpendicular steepness, yet clothed with trees
from the river's brink to their ridgy summits. In the midst of this
imbowered glen, a naked rock, crowned with the truly picturesque remains
of Kilgarran castle, proudly advances, and forms a striking contrast to
the dark rich verdure that prevails in the other accompanyments of the
river.
[Picture: Kilgarran Castle]
The position of Kilgarran castle is nearly on all sides self-defended;
but on the isthmus that connects the projecting rock with the main land,
two ponderous round towers seem to have formerly defied the assault of
war, as they now do that of pilfering dilapidation. The broken walls,
watch-towers, and apartments that compose the minor parts of this
fortress, bespeak it to have been of no great original extent, or highly
ornamented; yet the scattered relics, variously interwoven with ivy,
offer an appearance from most points of view highly imposing and grand.
The foundation of the castle is uncertain, and the styles of different
ages appear throughout the building. According to Carradoc, this
fortress was erected about the year 1222, when Marshall Earl of Striquil
(Chepstow) vanquished the Welch under their Prince Gruffydth, and gained
an undisputed footing in these parts. The town of Kilgarran is
diminished into one street, thinly inhabited by labouring farmers and
fishermen.
In a romantic hollow, a mile or two higher up, the Tivy, throwing itself
over a ledge of rock in one bold sheet, though not more than six feet in
depth, forms a salmon leap generally esteemed the most remarkable in
Wales. The salmon, in its course up the river, meeting with the fall,
coils itself into a circle, and by a sudden distension springs up the
precipice, and cleaves the torrent with astonishing vigour; {94} yet it
is frequently baffled, and greatly amuses the spectator with its repeated
attempts to overleap the cataract. We were not entertained with this
display of strength and agility on our visit, but were much interested by
the curious means employed in catching the fish. The fisherman is seated
in a sort of canoe, called a coracle, formed of open basket-work of thin
laths, covered with a horse's hide, or a well-pitched piece of
sail-cloth: the vessel is of a figure nearly oval, about four feet and a
half long and three wide, yet so light as to be carried with ease on the
man's shoulder from his home to the river: in this he whirls among the
eddies of the river; with a paddle in one hand, he alters or accelerates
his course with surprizing dexterity; while with the other he manages the
net, the line being held between his teeth. In this way the fishing in
most of the rivers of Wales is pursued. Coracles have been peculiar to
British rivers from time immemorial. Lucan very clearly describes them;
and in latter times, Sir Walter Raleigh relates, that "the Britons had
boats made of willow twigs covered on the outside with hides."
Near the water-fall is a manufacture of iron and tinned plates, belonging
to Sir Benjamin Hammet. Two or three miles higher up the river is
NEWCASTLE, a small irregular town situated upon its banks, and graced
with the venerable ruins of a castle, but of no great antiquity. Thence
a road of twenty miles extends through a dreary uninteresting country to
Caermarthen.
A more romantic and sequestered path than is traced beside "the hollow
stream that roars between the hills" from Lechryd bridge to Llangoedmor
on the north margin of the river, can scarcely be imagined; continuing
upwards of two miles, beneath the umbrage of its high and well-wooded
banks, and commanding delightful landscapes of the sombre kind at every
turn. In the parish of Llangoedmor, we learned, there were several
monuments of the druidical ages: one is a remarkably large cromlech; the
flat stone being eight or nine yards in circumference, with one edge
resting on the ground: there is a smaller monument of the same kind near
it; also a circle of rude stones about twelve yards round; and five beds
of loose stones, each about six feet over. Llechly gowress (the stone of
a giantess) in the parish of Neuodh, also near Cardigan, is another very
large cromlech; and near it is a parcel of large hewn stones nineteen in
number; which, it is said by the vulgar, cannot be counted.
CHAP. VII.
LLANARTH--ABERAERON--LLANSANFRIED--LLANRHYSTID--AN ENQUIRY INTO A STRANGE
ASSERTED CUSTOM RELATING TO THE MODE OF COURTSHIP IN
WALES--LLANBADARNVAWR--ABERISTWYTH, AND ITS CASTLE.
We left Cardigan on the road to Aberistwyth, and soon entered upon the
same dreary kind of country that we noticed in the north and north-west
of Pembrokeshire. At the poor village of Blaneporth, on the left of the
road, is a large circular area encompassed by a moat, which is most
probably the remains of a British fortification. Castel-Yn-dalig, a mile
or two further, is a similar work, but much larger and less distinct.
Thence we began to ascend a tract of lofty hills (leaving Penrhyn church
on our left near the sea-shore {98}), and, gaining a considerable
eminence, enjoyed an uninterrupted view over the whole sweep of
Cardigan's extensive bay. This bay, from its southern limit,
Strumblehead near Fishguard, stretching northward, extends a vast gulph
into North Wales, and is at length terminated by Bardsey island in
Caernarvonshire: it often proves a shelter to ships in the Irish trade,
and contains several good harbours. The effect of this extensive display
from the great elevations that we traversed was extremely striking;
stretching from beneath us to a remote horizon the sea, exhibited a
silvery surface of immense magnitude; while the shores presented an
endless variety of bold advancing promontories, overhanging cliffs, and
high swelling mountains wild and desolate; yet here and there a stripe of
green meadow appeared on a favoured slope, and a few woody plantations
disclosed themselves through picturesque hollows. In the distant
boundary of Caernarvonshire, the projecting and receding hills about
Pulhelly bay were conspicuous; opposed to these, the superior magnitude
of Cader-Idris arrested the attention, towering among the craggy summits
of the Merionethshire mountains. From the bay our view roamed over a
dreary uninteresting tract of country, to a ridge of mountains, whose
broken outline mixing with the clouds defined the entrance of
North-Wales; where, proudly rising above competition, the confederated
mountains, forming the pile of "Mighty Plinlimmon," appear in all their
majesty.
The consideration of these distant objects, and the attention demanded by
a stumbling horse, were my chief employments from Cardigan to
Aberistwyth: yet the general tediousness of our ride, upon a rocky track
here called a turnpike, had some relief as we passed through LLANARTH, a
_market-town_, consisting of half a dozen huts seated in a romantic
hollow; and ABERAERON, about four miles further, a neat village near the
seashore, pleasingly situated at the entrance of an abrupt well-wooded
valley. Near its picturesque bridge there is a more comfortable inn than
might be expected in so retired a situation; and, as it afterwards
appeared, the only tolerable one between Cardigan and Aberistwyth. From
this place the road, bordering the sea-shore, became more level; and we
soon came within view of the fragments of a castle on the beach, the
greater part of which appears to have been washed away by the action of
the sea. This fort was probably erected by the Normans to cover their
landing or retreat, when, in the reign of William Rufus, they fitted out
a fleet, and, descending on the coast of Cardiganshire, conquered or
ravaged the maritime country to a considerable distance. Most of the
principal towns then fell into their hands, upon which they affected the
government; but, as a measure of no less necessity than policy, assigned
their power to Kadugan ap Bledin, a British chief of high authority, who
strictly adhered to their interest. His son Owen however, rashly
attacking the Normans and Flemings who had lately settled in the
neighbouring territory southward, was, with his father, obliged to fly
into Ireland. Henry the First then entrusted the country to Gilbert
Clare, who raised many fortifications within the district. Kadugan and
his son Owen were nevertheless soon after restored to their lands; but
this son, committing fresh incursions, was slain by Gerald of Pembroke,
whose wife Nestra he had carried away. Old Kadugan became a prisoner in
England for a length of time, but was in the end restored to his estates;
when he was suddenly stabbed by his nephew Madok. Henry the Second
afterwards gave this tract of country to Roger de Clare; whose son
Richard earl of Clare being slain in a contest with the Welch, Rhys,
prince of South-Wales, attacked and vanquished the Anglo-Normans with
great slaughter, and reduced them under his dominion. But by degrees
Cardigan returned to the hands of the English until the final conquest of
the country by Edward the First.
We soon after passed through the dreary village of LLANSANSFRIED, where a
monastery is conjectured to have existed; and about two miles further
entered LLANRHYSTID, which place is assigned to be the site of another.
As we entered the latter village, "the dark mists of night" fell over us.
We therefore finished our day's journey at the Red Lion inn, a tolerably
decent ale-house, where we were presently joined by a man in a labourer's
habit, whom we had observed on the road in very gallant intercourse with
a peasant girl, and had rallied on the occasion; yet were we not a little
surprized at finding him not only a man of extensive information, but a
classical scholar and a well-bred gentleman. On his leaving the room, we
had an opportunity of enquiring who this character was, and learned from
our landlord that he was a native 'squire, who lived about ten miles
distant, who till lately had been in orders and officiated in London; but
on the death of his father had thrown off the gown and become a man of
pleasure. "Though he is so shabbily dressed," said our host, "it is only
a frolic, for he is a very able man." Now, as the term _able_ in Wales
is synonymous with rich in other places, we enquired the amount of his
income, and found it to be _near a hundred a year_.
This gentleman proved a most agreeable and useful companion during the
evening; but we were sorry to observe in him a professed Epicurean; the
gratification of his appetites he declared to be his great object, and
defended his practice on what he termed the fundamental principles of
nature; nor was he in want of an ingenious sophism against every point of
attack. We concluded that this gentleman's habits would qualify him with
due knowledge on a singular custom that is said to prevail in Wales,
relating to their mode of courtship; which is declared to be carried on
in bed; and, what is more extraordinary, it is averred, that the moving
tale of love is agitated in that situation without endangering a breach
in the preliminaries. Mr. Pratt, in his "Gleanings," thus affirms
himself an _eye-witness_ of the process: "The servant-maid of the family
I visited in Caernarvonshire happened to be the object of a young
peasant, who walked eleven long miles every Sunday morning to favour his
suit; he usually arrived in time for morning's service, which he
constantly attended; after which he escorted his dulcinea home to the
house of her master, by whose permission they as constantly passed the
succeeding hours in bed, according to the custom of the country. This
tender intercourse continued without any interruption near two years,
when the treaty of alliance was solemnized." Our companion, like every
one else that we spoke with in Wales on the subject, at once denied the
existence of this custom: that maids in many instates admitted male
bed-fellows, he did not doubt; but that the procedure was sanctioned by
_tolerated custom_ he considered a gross misrepresentation. Yet in
Anglesea and some parts of North Wales, where the original simplicity of
manners and high sense of chastity of the natives is retained, he
admitted _something of the kind_ might appear. In those thinly inhabited
districts, a peasant often has several miles to walk after the hours of
labour, to visit his mistress; those who have reciprocally entertained
the _belle passion_ will easily imagine, that before the lovers grow
tired of each other's company the night will be far enough advanced; nor
is it surprizing, that a tender-hearted damsel should be disinclined to
turn her lover out over bogs and mountains until the dawn of day. The
fact is, that under such circumstances she admits a _consors lecti_, but
not _in nudatum corpus_. In a lowly Welch hut, this bedding has not the
alarm of ceremony: from sitting or perhaps lying on the hearth, they have
only to shift their quarters to a heap of straw or fern covered with two
or three blankets in a neighbouring cornet. The practice only takes
place with _this view of accommodation_.
At an early hour in the morning we left our "flinty couch" at
Llanrhystid; though rendered, by a day of healthful fatigue, "a
thrice-driven bed of down;" and, skirting the sea, the resumed the views
of the preceding day. Advancing about two miles, we remarked, on a
gentle eminence in a field to the left of the road; several rough-hewn
stones patched over with the "moss of the centuries:" two of these,
remaining upright, are massive paralellopipeds, from eight to ten feet
high, standing within a yard or two of each other; among the other stones
lying about in different directions, I could trace no indication of a
circle; it has, however, been supposed to be a Druidical temple; although
the two upright stones might rather seem to mark the "narrow house" of
some departed warrior. We soon after descended into the abrupt vale of
Ystwith, and crossed its river over a picturesque bridge, venerably
mantled with ivy. {106} Our route continued over the high ridgy hills
that divide the parallel vales of Ystwith and Rhydol, the latter of which
presented an agreeable contrast to the dreary country through which we
had travelled from within a few miles of Haverfordwest.--Here, among
extensive meadows of the richest verdure, the meandering Rhydol wantons
its fantastic course. On a gentle eminence near its banks, in the midst
of the valley, appears the embowered town of LLANBADARN-VAWR, a
picturesque though deserted spot, yet once a Roman city, and afterwards
the seat of an Episcopacy and Monastery established by St. Paternus in
the beginning of the sixth century. The church is yet a handsome
building. Between this town and the sea-coast is a small ancient
fortification, consisting of a square area surrounded by a wall with a
tower at one of the angles. A range of wild hills, backed by the
stupendous Plinlimmon, forms the opposite boundary of this valley; and at
its termination in the sea-coast, the town of Aberistwyth appears in a
very picturesque light on the brink of the sea, with its ruined castle on
a gentle rise to the left.
ABERISTWYTH is a less agreeable town on entering it, than as a distant
object. Most of the streets are narrow and ill-paved; and the stone used
being of a black colour, gives the whole rather a dirty appearance; but
this remark is not applicable to some houses that have lately sprung up
for the genteel company which resorts to it in the bathing-season. Nor
must I mention the bathing at Aberistwyth, without observing, that it is
conducted with more propriety than at any other watering-place that I
have seen in England or Wales. The ladies' and gentlemen's machines are
placed nearly a quarter of a mile asunder; and the indecency of
promiscuous dipping, so disgusting at more fashionable resorts, is in
consequence avoided: the bathing too is excellent, with a good sandy
bottom at all hours of the tide.
The castle, seated on a craggy eminence projecting into the sea, westward
of the town, is so much dilapidated, as scarcely to present a
characterizing form: but there is an agreeable public walk traced through
the ruin, which commands a view of the sea and the neighbouring coast;
with the little port (common to the Rhydol and Ystwith rivers) well
filled with fishing vessels just below the cliff. This spot is also
enlivened by a tasteful residence of Lady Juliana Penn's, lately erected
near the ruin, with much appropriate effect, in the form of a gatehouse.
Aberistwyth castle was founded by Gilbert de Strongbow, son of Richard de
Clare, in the reign of Henry the First; but soon after its erection it
fell into the hands of the Welch princes, and was destroyed in their
intestine quarrels. Powell says, that the present castle was built by
Edward the First, anno 1277, a short time before the complete conquest of
Wales. It appears to have been a strong place, as a garrison of King
Charles maintained it for some time after his death.
Among the mountains in the neighbourhood of Aberistwyth, a number of lead
and silver mines were discovered about three centuries back; and in the
reign of Elizabeth a company of Germans reaped a great fortune in the
enterprize of working them. Sir Hugh Middleton, after them, was equally
successful, netting 2000_l._ a month out of one silver mine. He was
succeeded by a Mr. Bushel, who also gained immense profit from the works;
insomuch that in the civil wars he made King Charles a present of a
regiment of horse, and clothed his whole army. The company of
mine-adventurers worked these mines also with success, until they fell
out among themselves, to their own injury, and that of the mining
interest throughout the country; and I believe that these works have been
deserted ever since.
CHAP. VIII.
BARRIER OF NORTH AND SOUTH WALES--THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE--GRAND CATARACT OF
THE MYNACH--CWM YSTWITH HILLS--HAFOD--ANCIENT ENCAMPMENTS--STARFLOWER
ABBEY--TREGARRON--ROMAN ANTIQUITIES AT LLANDEWI
BREVI--LAMPETER--LLANSAWEL EDWIN'S FORD--LLANDILO.
We were detained at Aberistwyth by the continuance of a violent rain
which had deluged the neighbourhood for several days. At length a
cessation of the storm allowed us to resume our journey, though not to
perform a projected excursion to the summit of Plinlimmon, which is only
free from clouds in very fair weather. Returning up the hilly confines
of the valley, we again admired the meandering Rhydol, and its gentle
accompanyment; but following its course, as we advanced through a wild
romantic district, the character of the valley soon changed; dark wooded
hills, aspiring to the dignity of mountains, advanced their shagged sides
toward the stream, and, gradually closing to an impervious glen, shut up
the river in their recess. Beyond these hills rose the broken line of
mountains forming the termination of South Wales, where mighty
Plinlimmon, lord of the boundary, raised his stupendous head in majestic
desolation, though half concealed by eddying clouds: the whole scene
exhibited unfettered nature in her wildest mood. A pouring rain that now
fell over us circumscribed our desert prospects, while we proceeded over
uncultivated hills, with scarcely a token of society, to the DEVIL'S
BRIDGE.
[Picture: The Devil's Bridge]
The cataract that is here formed by the falls of the Mynach saluted us
with its thundering roar, long ere we approached it; but, as we drew
near, the strong verberation, rebellowed by surrounding cavernous rocks,
seemed to convulse the atmosphere! We hastily put up our horses at the
Hafod arms, a solitary inn; and in a few paces found ourselves on the
bridge, suspended over a gulph at which even recollection shudders. This
bridge bestrides a lane of almost perpendicular rocks, patched with wood,
whose summits are here scarcely five yards asunder. At a terrific depth
in the glen rages unseen the impetuous Mynach, engulphed beneath
protruding craigs and pendant foliage: but on looking over the parapet,
the half-recoiling sight discovers the phrenzied torrent, in one volume
of foam, bursting into light, add threatening, as it breaks against the
opposing rocks, to tear the mountains from their strong foundations;
then, instantly darting into the black abyss beneath, it leaves the
imagination free to all the terrors of concealed danger. With emotions
of awe, nor without those of fear, we climbed down the side of the rock
assisted by steps that were cut in it, and with some peril reached the
level of the darkened torrent; where, standing on a projecting craig
against which the river bounded, immersed in its spray and deafened by
its roar, we involuntarily clung to the rock. The impression of terror
subsiding, left us at liberty to examine the features of the scene.
Nearly over our heads appeared the bridge attributed to the handy-works
of the Devil; but a less cunning workman might have thrown an arch across
a fissure of a few feet span; and indeed the native mason who, about 50
years since, built the bridge now used, standing perpendicularly over the
old one, has constructed the best arch of the two. The original bridge
was built by the Monks of Starflower Abbey near 700 years since. Nor is
the singular appearance of these arches devoid of picturesque effect;
being tastefully besprinkled with verdure, and relieved by the
intervention of numerous branchy trees: while the naked black opposing
cliffs, worn out into curious hollows by the torrents, exhibit as bold a
rocky chasm as ever was traced by the pencil of Salvator.
On climbing from this hollow, we proceeded two or three hundred yards to
the left of the bridge, and again descended a fearful track, to witness
the grand FALLS OF THE MYNACH. Under the direction of a guide, we
reached the ordinary station with little difficulty, where the view of
the cataract disclosed itself with considerable effect, in four separate
cascades; though, from the great fall's being divided by the intervention
of a projecting rock, they appeared too much alike: the eye, accustomed
to picturesque disposition, in vain sought to fix itself on a pre-eminent
feature. I wished to get lower, but it seemed impracticable: emboldened,
however, by the example of our guide, I clambered upon the edge of an
immense perpendicular strata of rock, to nearly the lower channel of the
torrent; when the cataract appeared in the most perfect disposition
imaginable: the great fall displayed itself in uninterrupted superiority,
and the lesser ones retired as subordinate parts. The perpendicular
descent of this cataract is not less than two hundred and ten feet; the
first fall is not more than twenty feet; the next increases to sixty; the
third diminishes to about twenty; then, after a momentary pause, the
torrent bounds over a shelving rook in one tremendous fall of one hundred
and ten feet, and soon unites with the Rhydol, here a similar mountain
torrent.
[Picture: Falls of the Mynach]
This grand cataract receives no inconsiderable augmentation of terrific
appearance from the black stratified rocks forming the glen down which it
thunders; nor can the beholder, however firm his mind, divest himself of
terror, while, near the bottom of an abyss for ever denied a ray of sun,
he views the menacing torrent bursting before him; or contemplates its
foaming course tearing at his feet among craigs that its fury has
disjoined. If he ventures to look up the acclivitous rock, more real
danger threatens his return, when a devious balance or false step would
ensure his certain destruction. Yet from the horrors of this gloomy
chasm some favoured projections relieve the imagination, ornamented by
the light and tasteful penciling of the mountain ash, intermixed with
vigorous sapling oaks; while here and there a tree of riper years, unable
to derive support from the scanty soil, falls in premature decay a
prostrate ruin.--I have seen water-falls more picturesquely grand than
the cataract of the Mynach, but none more awfully so, not even excepting
the celebrated fells of Lowdore and Scaleforce in Cumberland.
Climbing from this scene of terrors, I rejoined my companion, and at the
Haford Arms obtained a change of clothes; a comfort which, although wet
to the skin for several hours, I should still longer have denied myself,
had not the approach of night forced me from the Mynach's interesting
scenery. Our active hostess quickly provided a tolerable dinner of
mutton chops; and, cheered by a good peat-fire and a bottle of wine, we
listened to the torrent's roar without dismay. On the following morning
we did not neglect to revisit the romantic glen. The weather was fine;
and, the effect of the late rains having subsided, the bulk of the
torrent had much diminished; yet did the scene gain in beauty what it
lost in terrific grandeur; for the intermingling foliage, darting from
opposite sides of the glen, and reflecting various tints and degrees of
light, softened the asperitous black rocks, and spread a lively net-work
over the gloom.
Upon our preparing for the renewal of our journey, a material difficulty
occurred; my poney was so completely knocked up, that he had not, as the
jockeys phrase it, "a leg to stand on." The alternative in this case was
to buy another; and upon enquiry I found that my landlord had one to
dispose of, which was forthwith produced. This was a good-sized poney,
with plenty of bone, but ill-made; he had, however, an excellent
character: his knees too were sadly broken; but a circumstantial tale
shewed that to be the effect of accident, and not habitual awkwardness:
upon the whole, he did not seem dear at the price demanded, which was
only five guineas: a bargain was therefore struck, the saddle transferred
from the invalid to the back of my new purchase; and after given
directions for the return of the former, which by the way incurred an
expence more than his value, we set forward for the celebrated grounds of
Hafod, about two miles distant.
Our road lay on the steep bank of the Mynach, commanding a full view of
the glen, and its romantic bridge. Then ascending the Cwm Ystwith hill,
through a current of clouds, we gained from its summit an uninterrupted
view of the whole range of North Walean mountains, stretching from the
English counties to the great bay of Cardigan: the intervening hollows
were concealed by fields of mist; so that the uncultivated heights
exhibited a scene as rugged as when
"--Nature first made man,
Ere the base laws of servitude began,
And wild in woods the noble savage ran."
We now took a farewel view of the Mynach's glen, and quitted its
interesting scenery, with such sensations as one feels in losing a friend
whose intercourse has afforded both pleasure and improvement. We then
descended to the vale of Ystwith, but unenlivened by its scenery, for a
morning mist floated through the valley and spread a veil over its
charms. A handsome park gate announced the entrance of HAFOD, and the
thundering of an unseen waterfall formed a grand symphony to the
spectacle that we were soon to witness.--Almost immediately the cloud of
mist disappeared, rising like a huge curtain before us, and discovered
such an assemblage of beauties, of cheerful walks and silent glens, of
woody precipices, shadowy glades, garden thickets and waterfalls, that,
considered with the barren wilds of the surrounding country, it secured a
second Paradise rising from a newly-subsided chaos. This charming place,
occupying a deep narrow valley, watered by the Ystwith, is the creation
of Col. Johnes, whose persevering genius has forced a mantle of wood upon
rocky precipices where nature seemed to deny the access of verdure, and
who in his elegant and useful projects of farther improvement gives
employment to the country around. Upon a spot judiciously chosen, where
the banks of the valley gently incline, and the coverture of lofty woods
afford a shelter from the north-eastern winds, stands the mansion, with a
sloping lawn in front, commanding a comprehensive view of the enchanting
valley; which if Dryden could but see, he would wish to recall the line,
"God never made his works for man to mend."
On putting ourselves under the direction of the gardener, we were first
led to the kitchen-garden, furnished with extensive forcing-houses, and
replete with every necessary appendage. The flower-garden also displayed
its appropriate charms; but from these atchievements of art we turned,
without regret, to where the bold hand of nature reared the scene in
stupendous majesty;
"There along the dale,
With woods o'erhung, and shagg'd with mossy rocks,
Where on each hand the gushing waters play,
And down the rough cascade white dashing fall,"
we passed, enamoured with the incessant though congenial variety of our
subject. After visiting the cold bath, a small sequestered building, a
mazy walk romantically traced by the side of a brawling torrent, and
amidst tangled shrubberies, led to a small cascade; and soon after a
superior waterfall engaged our attention, where the whole volume of the
Ystwith burst over a ledge of rocks in a composition truly grand and
picturesque. But a scene of awful sublimity disclosed itself on
exploring a dark cavernous passage in a rock and reaching its extremity,
where a lofty cascade of transcendent beauty, throwing itself over a
strata of black rocks, bounded close to the opening of the cave, and
shrouded the aperture with its spray, as it became engulphed in a dark
chasm beneath.
The towering mountains clothed with myriads of oaks, which environ this
remarkable valley, afford a diversity of walks and combinations of view,
to describe which words would be inadequate, and prove at best but
tedious. A walk of twelve miles scarcely comprises a complete survey of
the grounds, as we are told; but, being pressed for time, our
perambulation was confined to a much smaller space; yet enough was seen
to convince us that this is one of the most delightful rural retreats in
the kingdom.
The mansion is a handsome modern edifice; in the Gothic style of
architecture; which idea is perfectly consonant with the romantic cast of
the scenery; and the general outline of the building is certainly
pleasing: but we were sorry that Col. Johnes had not been better advised
in the execution of this design, which though we had read of, in one
place, as built "in the _most correct taste_," and in another as "a
mansion in the _Italian_ style," we found to be a heterogeneous jumble;
wherein a bastard sort of Greek and Saxon architecture was blended with
the prevailing Gothic. The house internally we understood to be richly
fitted up, and furnished with an excellent library, but did not visit it;
for, though the _demand_ of five shillings for the gardener's attendance
was willingly paid, yet the same sum, which we found would be required by
the housekeeper, appeared to us more than the show of any _Welch house_
was worth.
There always appears to me something very unworthy in great men allowing
their servants to exact the sums that they do from the spectators of
their grandeur; but, such emoluments are taken into the account of a
servant's hire, and in some measure contribute to the support of the
great man's establishment: as far as they do this, they indirectly form
part of his revenue; and in that view I consider the _Grandee_ as
somewhat of a mercenary showman, however _magnifique_.
A ride of nearly a mile extent, among delightful plantations, led us out
of Hafod; when, crossing the Ystwith over a good stone bridge, we soon
passed through a little romantic village on the road to Tregarron, from
whence the country continued wild, without grandeur or interest, a
succession of
"Barren heaths, and rushy meers,"
until the approach to Llandilo. In this mid-land route the hills were
much less continuous than round the coast, and the valleys frequently
extensive; but, overrun with peat-bogs, they neither displayed fertility
nor beauty. About half way to Tregarron, a few hundred yards to the
right of the road, were two considerable hills, each crowned with a large
ancient encampment: we did not stop to examine them, but quickly turned
off the road, over moorlands on our left, in search of the remains of
STARFLOWER or STRATA FLORIDA ABBEY. We had no track to direct us; nor
did a human creature appear for many miles: after a fruitless wandering,
therefore, we gave up the object, with this consolation, that almost the
only relic remaining is an ornamented circularly-arched gateway. Yet was
this place, now lost in a trackless desert, once of high importance.
Strata Florida Abbey (in British, Munachlog Ystrad flur) was founded anno
1164 for Cistertian Monks {123} by Rhesus Prince of South-Wales. In it
many of the Welch Princes were buried, and their acts kept and recorded:
it suffered considerably when Edward the First overran Wales, but was
soon after repaired.
A sloppy ride brought us to TREGARRON: a poor straggling ill-built town,
situated in an abrupt hollow watered by an arm of the Tivy; yet,
plentifully interspersed with trees, it forms a pleasing relief to the
surrounding dreariness. Its church is a respectable old building, and it
boasts the dignity of a mayor. Our inn here afforded us a capacious dish
of eggs and bacon for dinner; but, though it was not more than ordinarily
strong and greasy for the wilds of Wales, we grew delicate, and, leaving
our meal almost untasted, pursued our journey on the turnpike road to
Lampeter. About three miles from Tregarron, immediately on the left of
the road, we observed a large mound encircled by a moat; but could not
determine whether it was the site of an antient citadel, or monumental of
a deceased chieftain. In the same neighbourhood is the church of
Landewi-Brevi, where in 522, at a Holy Synod, St. David opposed the
opinions of the Pelagians. A prodigious petrified horn which is shewn at
the church is said to have remained there from that time; and in the year
1187 Bishop Beck founded a college on the spot. Several Roman inscribed
stones appear in and about the church; but at a place some distance
southward of it, called Kaer Kestilh (the field of the castles), a great
number have at various times been discovered, as also coins and Roman
bricks. Dr. Gibson considers this to be the Lovantinum of Ptolemy, in
which opinion he is followed by Mr. Horsley: Yet is this spot, the site
of a Roman town, and once occupied by its legions, now with difficulty
traced among barren fields remote from habitation:
"No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread,
But all the bloomy flush of life is fled."
From a fatiguing day's journey we gladly reposed at a better inn than
might be expected in so poor a town as LAMPETER; and the following
morning sallied forth to visit a large old seat of Sir Robert Lloyd's;
which, we learned, "exhibited a striking appearance with its four great
towers crowned with domes in the midst of well-planted inclosures, but
now scarcely inhabited." A thick mist denied us this view; so, crossing
the long old bridge of Lampeter, we entered Carmarthenshire on our way to
Llandilo. Nothing can be imagined more dreary than the first half of
this ride; lying over an extensive range of lumpy hills, as remote from
any thing picturesque as profitable. No tree, not a bush could be seen;
and as we mournfully looked round, where, except the miserable road on
which we travelled, no trace of society appeared, our disgusted sight
would have even rested with pleasure on a furze bush. From such a region
of sterility we gladly caught a gleam of cultivation, in some distant
hills bordering on Brecknockshire; but more gladly still, on a sudden
turn, we looked down on the pleasing little valley LLANSAWEL, watered by
a crystaline branch of the Cothy. The sun had now dispersed the mists
through which we set out, and shone direct on the vale: from its verdant
level high hills, enjoying different degrees of cultivation, rose on
every side; and under one of them, at the further end of the valley, the
well-whitened village sparkled through the intervening foliage.
This valley was immediately succeeded another called EDWIN'S-FORD, a
delightful spot, whose high encircling hills are clothed with extensive
plantations to their very summits. In the bottom, is a large old manor
house belonging to Colonel Williams, beautified "above, below, around,"
with leaded mercuries, shepherdesses, and sportsmen. Yet is this place,
remaining in the genuine style of King William's reign, with all its
absurdities, more interesting; as shewing us a specimen of that time,
than if it were patched up with modern improvements; or a new villa, of
the packing-case mode of building that now prevails. We rode through the
long avenues of trees that extend from the house; and, quitting the
valley, descended to another, pleasingly decorated with wood, and the
ruin of Talley church. A cheerful road, lined with
"Hedge-row elms and coppice green,"
now led us through a succession of swells and hollows, adorned with
numerous plantations, particularly those of Lord Robert Seymour Conway's,
to LLANDILO, a pretty market town, seated on a descent to the justly
famed vale of Towey.
CHAP. IX.
CHARMING VALE OF TOWEY--DINEVAWR CASTLE--GOLDEN GROVE--GRONGAR
HILL--MIDDLETON HALL--CAREG-CANNON CASTLE--REFLECTIONS AT A
FORD--GLENHEIR WATERFALL--AN ACCIDENT--PONT AR DULAS--RETURN TO SWANSEA.
[Picture: Dinevawr Castle]
At Landilo we hastily put up our horses, anxious to feast on the beauties
that disclosed themselves as we approached the spot; and, learning that
NEWTON PARK, the delightful seat of Lord Dinevawr, afforded the most
extensive and picturesque views of the vale, we engaged the keeper's
attendance, and proceeded among waving lawns and woody gnolls to a bold
hill, where,
"Bosom'd high in tufted trees,"
appeared the picturesque remains of DINEVAWR CASTLE. A winding path, cut
through the leafy honours of this hill, conveyed us beneath their dark
umbrage to the top. We here climbed a massy fragment of the ruin, and
entered a falling apartment, which, according to our guide's information,
was once the lady's dressing-room; where, reaching a Gothic window
overhung with ivy, a prospect burst upon us, teeming with the most
fascinating circumstances of verdant nature; a galaxy of picturesque
beauty, at which remembrance becomes entranced, and description faulters!
Immediately beneath, the expansive vale of TOWEY appears in the fullest
display of its charms; a hue of the richest green marks the luxuriance of
the soil through the course of the valley, which, continually intersected
with dusky hedge-rows, boasts all the elegance of garden parterres. The
translucid Towey here wantons in perpetual variety among gay meadows and
embowering plantations, where the eye with pleasure traces its fantastic
meanders until they disappear behind projecting groves. The rich wood
that surrounds the castellated hill clothes a precipitous descent to the
water's edge, and, with other sylvan decorations of Newton park, forms
the nearmost boundary of the vale. On the opposite side, a huge wild
mountain rears its head in desolation to the clouds; and beneath it
Golden Grove, {130} despoiled of its leafy grandeur, now appears in
diminished beauty. Several smaller seats and whitened hamlets start up
in the valley, and, glistening through their appendant groves, give life
to the scene. A little westward, GRONGAR HILL, immortalized by the muse
of Dyer, and now the property of one of his descendants, advances on the
vale and partly turns its course; but at some distance further, a rugged
hill, bearing the mouldering fragments of Gruslwyn castle, proudly
bestrides the plain and terminates the picture. Our view of this scene
was favoured by the departing sun, which, just setting behind Gruslwyn
ruin, threw a glowing tint over the landscape; its golden effulgence
shone strongly on the varied hills, and gleamed on the lofty groves that
adorned the vale; though the greater part of it was obscured in
grandly-projected shadows. {131}
After a week's journey through an extensive tract of country, with few
exceptions as devoid of picturesque interest as of productiveness, to
come at once upon a scene so pregnant with the bounty and beauty of
nature, was a feast for the feelings of philanthropy and picturesque
enthusiasm that I shall never forget; nor do I imagine that the coldest
mortal could fail of feeling a lively interest in so delightful a
change--We
"--cast a longing ling'ring look behind"
on leaving this scene to examine the ruined castle. The extent of the
apparent remains would lead one to consider it as a place of small
importance; but we traced the vestiges of a wall and ditch at some
distance from the conspicuous ruin, which indicate it to have been of
considerable dimensions. The most noticeable parts are, the apartment
already mentioned; a massive round tower, the ancient keep; and a
subterraneous passage. Giraldus saw a castle here; but that was
destroyed in the year 1194, about six years after his Itinerary; it was,
however, soon rebuilt, and became the royal seat of the Princes of South
Wales; but frequently changed its masters, until it fell to the crown of
England. Henry the VIIth made a grant of it to Sir Rice ap Thomas,
Knight of the Garter, a lineal descendant of the Welch Princes, and
ancestor of the present proprietor. It was inhabited until within these
50 years, when the combustible part of it was destroyed by fire.
The mansion, built on a level about half a mile from the castle, is a
large quadrangular structure, with turrets at each corner crowned with
domes: it has lately been modernized; but appears to have been founded
about two centuries back.--An avenue of trees extended from hence to the
castle, which has lately been broken into clumps, in harmony with the
general laying-out of the park. The hills of its strongly undulating
surface are profusely covered with wood, and the hollows enjoy a
luxuriance of pasturage that can scarcely be equalled. On looking down
some of these knolls, there appears no poetical licence in Dyer's
description:
"Below me trees unnumber'd rise,
Beautiful in various dyes:
The gloomy pines, the poplar blue,
The yellow beech, the sable yew,
The slender fir that taper grows,
The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs;
And beyond the purple grove,
Haunt of Phyllis, Queen of Love!"
We often regretted that the picturesque ruin of the castle was excluded
from our view by the lofty trees that surround it: the laudable jealousy
with which Lord Dinevawr preserves the woody embellishments of his park
appeared to us as extending too far in this instance; for were a few
openings introduced, so as to exhibit from various points the grand
dimensions of some ivied towers, a fine effect might be produced, and a
picturesque contrast obtained to the numerous woody swells that abound in
this beautiful domain.
The morning that we left Llandilo brought with it a scene of affliction
to the surrounding country: one of those deluging rains which often do so
much mischief in mountainous countries fell with unparalleled violence
during the night; when the vast accession of water, unable to discharge
itself by the ordinary channels, swept away trees, fences, small
buildings, cattle, and poultry in its devious course. Several mills were
destroyed; and many an industrious cottager, awakened by the flood
eddying round his bed, saw himself at once dispossessed of the fruits of
many years hard savings:
"Fled to some eminence, the husbandman
Helpless beheld the miserable wreck
Driving along; his drowning ox at once
Descending, with his labours scatter'd round,
He saw; and instant o'er his shivering thought
Came winter unprovided, and a train
Of clamant children dear."
On the storm's abating, we renewed our journey, and, over a handsome
stone bridge crossing the swollen Towey, which had acquired a frightful
hue from the red marle of the neighbouring land, followed its course upon
the road to Llangadock. At the first turnpike we deviated to the right,
up a steep track rendered almost impracticable by loose craigs, by the
side of a romantic dingle, down whose dark hollow a small cascade
trickled with very good effect. In our ascent, delightful views were
obtained of the upper vale of Towey, stretching from Llandilo bridge to
the vicinage of Llandovery. The distant groves of Taliaris and Abermarle
parks adorned this view, which was only inferior to that from
Dinevawr-castle. As we advanced further, the rich prospect withdrew, and
we found ourselves entering upon the dreary wilds of the Black Mountains;
our track then became indistinct, wandering among rocks, floods, and
up-rooted trees, unenlivened by a single habitation or human face. At
length a cottage appeared, and we enquired our way to Careg-cannon
castle; but "Dim Sarsnic" {135} was all we could gather from the
inhabitants. Thus constrained to proceed at random, we mounted a
precipitous hill over a track that formed the bed of a torrent, and
discovered the object of our search upon a bold rock, a considerable
distance on our right: a little Welch farmer was also comprized in this
view, working hard to repair the damages of the storm. We again enquired
the best road to pursue, and again were answered with "Dim Sarsnic;" he
however, signified to us that he would fetch some one, and accordingly
ran over two or three fields, and returned with his daughter, a fine
buxom girl who had picked up a little English at Llandilo market.
Without intreaty she offered to be our guide; and, fixing in the ground a
spade with which she had been clearing a water-course, blythely led us,
through mountainous wilds, within a short distance of the object of our
search.
As we ascended the rock, crowned with the frowning ruin of Careg-cannon
castle, a tempestuous cloud that broke against it drenched us with a
plentiful shower: we sought the shelter of the building, but the wind
raged with such violence, that we shrunk from the mouldering battlements
lest they should overwhelm us. On crossing the ruin through its "stormy
halls," we again recoiled on finding ourselves upon the brink of a
tremendous precipice, which, except on the side by which we ascended,
encompasses the castle in a perpendicular rocky cliff upwards of four
hundred feet in height. Then climbing among the mossy fragments of the
castle, we discovered an aperture in the ground connected with a long
subterraneous gallery dug through the solid rock, and lighted by windows
cut in the cliff, though not visible from any situation without. In
exploring this strange recess, rendered more fearful by the loud shrieks
of the wind, we advanced, not without sensations of awe: it terminated in
a large gloomy cavern, fit scene for
"Murders, rapes, and massacres,
Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
Complots of mischiefs, treason, villanies
Ruthful to hear."
In this place we waited the passing of the storm, conjecturing it to have
continued formerly to some adjacent spot, so as to form a sally-port or
secret communication from the castle. On our return we felt more at
liberty to examine the features of the ruin, which proved of the simplest
construction, totally without ornament or a single Gothic form, and
consisting of one irregular court with towers at each angle. If the
Britons had any castles of stone before the arrival of the Normans (a
fact doubted by some antiquaries), I should imagine this to be one;
although a late tourist, I know not on what authority, ascribes its
erection to the time of Henry the First. The position must have been
formerly impregnable, and its rough aspect marks it to have been
constructed for the mere business of war. By
--a lonely tower,
--whose mournful chambers hold,
To night-struck Fancy dreams, the yelling Ghost,
we passed from this wild abode, and floundered among ditch-like tracks to
recover the high road from Llandilo to Swansea. In a romantic hollow we
were stopped by a branch of the Towey; which, though in ordinary times an
inconsiderable rivulet, was now swelled to a deep and menacing torrent.
Here we found a party of men and women peasants on the opposite side, in
doubt whether it might be safely crossed; but at length one of the men
stripped and waded over, thus satisfying us that the ford was
practicable. The rest followed; the men first getting rid of the lower
part of their dress;--a trouble avoided by the females, who, unused to
the encumbrance of shoes and stockings, had only to hold up their clothes
to the highest extent; and, thus prepared, the whole party moved toward
us. Viewing this remnant of barbarity with disgust, we at the same time
felt uneasy for the situation of the girls: but we might have spared
ourselves that pain; their countenances proved them to be unembarrassed
by the consciousness of shame; nor did their eyes wander from the precise
line in which they were going. The transaction was to them a matter of
perfect indifference.
[Picture: Careg-cannon Castle]
It may reasonably be supposed, that the indecent customs of the Welch
operate against the observance of chastity: yet seeing that the Welch are
by no means deficient in that excellence, it may be supposed that were
such scenes less frequent they would be so; but, as they are continually
recurring, the imagination has no time to effervesce; it is at once
saturated with naked facts, and on that principle the ebullitions of
passion are kept under. On the one hand, those strong bulwarks decency
and delicacy are done away; but on the other, the mind, fully informed,
is not irritated by the conjurations of fancy; which may be a pretty fair
set-off. Yet, without doubt, their strongest safeguard exists in the
considerative defence; for the moral turpitude and political infamy of
unchastity is recognized in Wales to an extent that can hardly be
conceived in circles of modern refinement: even at this day, in districts
not yet drawn within the imposing vortex of trade, {140} a golden age of
innocence may be discovered, where bastardy is unknown, or known but in
recorded instances, in which the man is properly consigned to equal
disgrace with the female offender.
Our travelling continued in rocky tracks, at the rate of a mile an hour,
until we recovered the Llandilo road; from which we soon turned off, on
the right, to visit Glenheir waterfall, in the grounds of Mr. Dubaison,
about five miles south of Llandilo. At this place the Loughor river
pursues its course between steep banks clothed with various trees and
shrubs. On one of the descents a walk is traced, with some ingenuity, in
front of a small picturesque cascade formed by a tributary stream to the
Loughor. This might be mistaken for the object sought; but, crossing a
rustic bridge, the eye on a sudden encounters the whole river rushing
beneath a portal of trees, and throwing itself over a ledge of black rock
in a single fall of eighteen feet. The effect of the whole, seen through
the gloom of pendent trees, is undoubtedly striking; though, it must be
confessed, the sheet of water presenting the formality of an unbroken
square is somewhat unpicturesque. The person who attended us pointed out
the effects of the torrent at fifteen feet above its surface, to which
height it was swelled in the morning by the late storm; a greater rise
than was ever known before: the cataract then exhibited a scene more
tremendously grand than imagination can picture, or words describe; yet
some idea may be formed in conceiving so vast a bulk of water, bursting
over the precipice, stunning with its roar, and filling the atmosphere
with its spray; while up-rooted trees, the shattered fragments of
buildings, and other ruins, swept headlong on by the irresistible
torrent, would illustrate its terrors, and complete a spectacle great
indeed! Yet, alas, at how high a purchase, appeared from the
lamentations of the neighbourhood! Nor were we without a share in the
general calamity; for, crossing the Loughor at a ford about two miles
further, my poney on a sudden slipped out of his depth, and we had
separately to swim for our lives to the opposite bank. This disagreeable
business was much aggravated; for my books, papers, and some other
articles which I carried in a leather-case behind the saddle, were
completely soaked, and several drawings utterly spoiled. My companion,
having a taller horse, escaped, with only his boots full of water. Here
it may not be amiss to apprize the traveller through Wales, that these
fords (frequently occurring) are not unattended with danger after great
falls of rain: at such times, a careful enquiry should be made of the
people near them: a precaution that would have saved us our ducking; for
it afterwards appeared, that no other travellers had crossed the ford
during the day, but avoided it by taking a circuitous route.
In this plight we jogged on upwards of eight miles, with the unwelcome
gloom of the Black Mountains on our left, and a pleasant diversified
country on our right, to the village of Pont-ar-dulas, but which we did
not reach before evening. The comfortable inn at this place afforded us
a change of apparel and good cheer, that soon dissipated the
inconveniences of our journey. On the following morning we rose early,
and then found the place to possess many traits of picturesque
attraction, being seated near a rapid river, and agreeably interspersed
with woods. Thence we had a pleasant ride to Swansea; where we rejoined
a party of our friends at breakfast, after a fortnight's excursion.
During our stay in this town, protracted to several days by its agreeable
society, Mrs. Hatton, mistress of the bathing-house, and sister of the
English Melpomene, exhibited her theatric powers on the humble boards of
Swansea theatre. But, labouring under the misfortune of lameness, and
the encumbrance of more human flesh than I ever before saw crowded in one
female figure, she was obliged to go through her task, the recitation of
Alexander's Feast, _sitting_: notwithstanding which _weighty_ drawback,
the lady did not fail to exhibit a vivid tincture of the family genius.
Here too we were gratified with the news of an event, before whose solid
advantages the victories of a century sink, in a rational estimate, like
glittering tinsel before massive ingots. I was awakened at an early hour
by the loud huzzas of the towns-people, and the frequent discharge of
cannon from vessels in the harbour. The ships displayed their gayest
colours; and the people, in dancing through the streets, congratulated
each other on the long wished-for blessing of PEACE! The chagrin of two
or three provision-monopolizers, and a few others whose interest was in
opposition to the public weal, with the old subterfuge that it was not
the proper time for peace, covering a real sentiment of endless war,
passed unnoticed, nor formed a perceptible speck on the brilliancy of the
people's joy!
CHAP. X.
NEATH ABBEY, TOWN, AND CASTLE--THE KNOLL--BRITON FERRY--FUNEREAL
RITES--ABERAVON--MARGAM--ABBEY RUIN--PILE.
Our tour now took an eastward direction. Crossing Swansea river by an
exceeding good ferry, and passing a region of furnaces, we traversed a
considerable hill to the neighbouring valley of NEATH; a spot that might
be deemed pleasing, were it not overhung with the smoke of numerous
manufactories, and its soil blackened with coal-works and rail-ways.
{145} Neath abbey is a short distance west of the town, and its remains
are extensive. Besides the abbey church, the walls of the offices and
other apartments are yet standing; but, undecorated with verdure, and
partaking of the sable hue that impinges on every object around, it fails
to create an idea of beauty or grandeur. As we were exploring the dark
recesses of the ruin, a number of haggard forms on a sudden darted from
various apertures, and eagerly pressed toward us. Their wan
countenances, half hidden by black matted hair, bore the strongest
expression of misery; which was further heightened by a scanty ragged
apparel, that scarcely covered their meagre limbs: upon their whole
appearance one might have asked with Banquo,--
"What are these,
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire,
That look not like th' inhabitants o'the earth,
And yet are on't?--You should be women;
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so."--
The poor creatures were the wives of miners, and women that worked in the
manufactories, who burrowed and brought up their families in the cells of
the ruin. Unceasing drudgery, however, was unable to obtain them the
necessaries of life; much less a taste of those comforts, to which the
exertion of useful labour might seem to have a just claim. An old woman,
bent nearly double with years,
"Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless,"
gave us her account of the ruin. She shewed us the nuns' dining-room,
the roof of which is still entire, supported by Saxon, or rather early
Norman pillars and arches. From the refectory we passed to what was once
the dormitory, and were shewn a nauseous dungeon, in which, as the legend
of the ruin relates, offending nuns were wont to be confined. This abbey
was built by Richard de Granville and Constance his wife, in the reign of
Henry the First, for Cistertian monks, and dedicated to the Holy Trinity:
at the dissolution of monasteries its revenues were valued at 150_l._
_per annum_. The abbey-house, about a century and a half since, formed
an admired seat of the Hobby's family.
Neath, the Nidum of Antoninus, was formerly of greater extent and
importance than at present; for, notwithstanding its flourishing
manufactories, it now makes but a poor dirty appearance. The Castle, now
an inconsiderable ruin, was built by Richard de Granville, one of
Fitzhammon's knights, upon the site of a British fortress of very antient
foundation; and was taken and in part burnt by Prince Llewelyn A.D. 1231.
The Neath river limits that tract of country called Gower; it also formed
the western boundary of the Lordship of Glamorgan, which anciently
extended eastward to the river Usk. The latter district fell under the
dominion of the Normans in the following manner.
In the year 1090, Jestyn, lord of Glamorgan, having a difference with
Rees, King of Wales, had recourse to arms, and solicited the assistance
of Fitzhammon, an Anglo-Norman chieftain, to support his cause. The
confederates were successful; but, as it generally happens when foreign
aid is required in domestic disputes, the remedy proved worse than the
disease; for, on the plea that the conditions of their compact had not
been fulfilled, Fitzhammon collected his forces, attacked Jestyn, and
deprived him of his life and territory. Fitzhammon shared the spoil with
twelve knights who accompanied him, rewarding each with a manor. Now, as
a dominion thus acquired must be supported by the iron arm of coercion,
we find the first attention of the conquerors directed to rearing
fortresses on their domains; and shortly afterwards an appendant creation
of religious houses makes its appearance, as a salvo for the slaughter
and injustice that purchased their greatness. To this foundation most of
the picturesque ruins that we are about to examine in Glamorganshire, and
part of Monmouthshire, may be traced: it will, therefore, be necessary
not to lose sight of this point of history.
We did not fail to admire the KNOLL, a castellated seat of Sir Herbert
Mackworth's, occupying the summit of a hill at the termination of a noble
lawn. The fine views which its elevation commands, encompassed by
hanging woods, and extensive plantations, its shady walks and picturesque
cascades, render it a place deservedly attractive. Beneath the tufted
hills of this estate, we passed from Neath in our way to Briton ferry;
and soon remarked a single stone monument {150}, a massive
paralellopiped, on a height to our left: another immediately afterwards
appeared in a field close to the road on the right.
From these monuments of other times, however, the rich hanging woods and
open groves of BRITON FERRY attracted our interest, clothing that
charming domain of Lord Vernon's.
The extensive plantations spread over several bold hills westward of the
Neath river, whose broad translucid stream here emerges in a fine sweep
between high woody banks, partly broken into naked cliffs, and soon
unites with the sea. From a delightful shady walk impendent over the
stream, we branched off into an "alley green" that led us up a steep hill
covered with large trees and tangled underwood: the ascent was
judiciously traced where several bare craigs projecting from the soil
formed an apposite contrast to the luxuriant verdure that prevailed
around. On gaining the summit the charms of Briton ferry disclosed
themselves in
"An ample theatre of Sylvan grace"
of more than common beauty; beyond which the Bristol channel, bounded by
the aerial tint of its opposite coast, formed the distance. But from a
roaming prospect the eye gladly returned to repose on the local beauties
of the scene; the tufted knoll, the dark glade, and the majestic river.
In returning, we passed the mansion, a very ordinary building; but paused
on the neat simplicity of the village-church adjoining, and its
well-ordered cemetery.
The custom of planting ever-greens over the graves of departed friends,
and bedecking them with flowers at certain seasons of the year, is, here
attended to with peculiar care; and to this pleasing tribute of
affection, characteristic of Wales, David ap-Gwillim, a Welch bard who
flourished about the middle of the fourteenth century, thus sweetly
alludes in one of his odes:
"O whilst thy season of flowers, and thy tender sprays thick of
leaves remain; I will pluck the roses from the brakes; the flowerets
of the meads, and gems of the woods; the vivid trefoils, beauties of
the ground, and the gaily smiling bloom of the verdant herbs, to be
offered to the memory of a chief of fairest fame: Humbly will I lay
them on the grave of Ivor!"
Shakspeare also, with exquisite tenderness:
"With fairest flowers while summer lasts
I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack
The flower that's like thy face, pale Primrose; nor
The azur'd Harebell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of Eglantine, whom not to slander
Outsweeten'd not thy breath."
Highly pleased with Briton ferry, we proceeded along the coast, and
passed through the little town of ABERAVON. Its copper and tin works
added no charms to the verdant fertility of this part of the country,
which appeared ornamented with several gentlemen's seats, and well
planted hills; but, grandly rising above comparison, "the mighty hill of
MARGAM," a steep mountain entirely shaded with oaks from the base to its
"cloud-cap't" summit, arrested our chief attention.
[Picture: Margam Abbey]
Margam park, belonging to Mr. Talbot, is chiefly to be noticed for its
orangery; a magnificent pavilion of the Doric order, 327 feet in length,
wherein the orange-trees are arranged in unfavourable weather: but on our
visit, these trees, to the amount of a hundred and fifty, from six to ten
feet high, and all in full bearing, were agreeably disposed in a
sequestered part of the garden. {153} Margam abbey was until within
these few years the mansion of the estate; but it is now pulled down:
some low ruins, however, remain, and the walls of its elegant but
neglected chapter-house. This structure is thus described by Mr.
Wyndham, who visited the spot about thirty years since: "It is an elegant
Gothic building, of a date subsequent to that of the church. Its vaulted
roof is perfect, and supported by a clustered column rising from the
centre of the room. The plan of this chapter-house is an exact circle,
fifty feet in diameter. The just proportion of the windows, and the
delicate ribs of the arches, which all rise from the centre column and
the walls, gradually diverging to their respective points above, must
please the eye of every spectator; and, what is uncommon in light Gothic
edifices, the external elevation is as simple and uniform as its
internal, there being no projecting buttresses to disturb or obstruct its
beauty."--"The preservation of this building led me to conclude, that
much attention had been given to the lead that originally covered it;
but, to my astonishment, I heard that the lead had long since been
removed, and that the only security of the roof against the weather was a
thick _oiled paper_, which by no means prevented the rain from
penetrating and filtering through the work." Mr. Wyndham concludes by
trusting, that, as the present proprietor is a lover of antiquities, the
deficiency would be corrected. But, unfortunately, the edifice was left
to its fate, and the roof soon fell in: thus one of the finest specimens
of Gothic architecture in this or any other country is lost to the eye of
taste and science.
Just perceptible from the turf we traced the foundation of the Abbey
Church, and the bases of four clustering pillars that most probably
supported the tower; the steps of the altar were also visible,
besprinkled with grass; and, turning over some fragments, we picked up
part of the chalice for containing holy water, and several of those
coloured glazed tiles which were used in the early Norman age for paving
principal buildings, but commonly called Roman tiles. We were informed
by Mr. Snook, the intelligent gardener of the place, who was present at
the dilapidation of the abbey, that the pavement formed with these tiles
was the lowermost of three which were then removed; and that on digging
deeper they came to an immense heap of human bones. This pavement is
still in many places remaining, though nearly concealed by a covering of
moss. Many curious sculptured stones of high antiquity are to be met
with in the park, and in the village adjoining; the church of which
presents, in its elevation, a more pleasing symmetry and composition than
any Gorman work that I remember to have seen. {155} A shady walk,
carried beneath the leafy mantle of Margam's hill, passes a ruined
chapel, and a loggan or rocking-stone, in its way to the summit, where a
prospect of uncommon extent greets the beholder. Eglis Nunne, about two
miles south of Margam, now a farmhouse, was formerly a nunnery subject to
that abbey.
Renewing our journey, we left Kenfig on our right, where some vestiges of
a castle built by one of Fitzhammon's knights are said to appear, and
proceeded to PYLE. The inn here, built by Mr. Talbot, and which might be
mistaken for a nobleman's seat, affords excellent accommodation for
travellers, who are frequently induced to make it their head-quarters
while visiting the several objects in the neighbourhood.--Leaving Pyle,
we soon found ourselves on Newton Down, and from its height discovered
the range of hills forming the opposite boundary of the vale of
Cowbridge, in which a bold hill crowned with Penline Castle was eminently
conspicuous. On looking back, we were pleased with a comprehensive view
of the country that we had lately traversed: beyond the wide bay of
Swansea, the whitened habitations of Ostermouth caught our eye; the
sulphureous clouds revolving from the works of Swansea and Neath were
only divided by the projection of Kilway hill; and the picturesque knolls
of Briton ferry appeared sunk into comparative littleness beneath the
towering dimensions of Margam's shady mountain.--Our tour now became
thickly interspersed with baronial castles and other monuments of feudal
times, interesting either by their historical events or picturesque
decay.
CHAP. XI
OGMORE CASTLE--EWENNY PRIORY--DUNRAVEN-HOUSE--ST. DONATT'S
CASTLE--LLANBITHIAN CASTLE--COWBRIDGE--PENLINE CASTLE--COITY
CASTLE--LLANTRISSENT--BENIGHTED RAMBLE TO PONT-Y-PRIDD--WATERFALLS.
OGMORE CASTLE is situated on the eastern bank of the river Ogmore, near
the road to Cowbridge; its remains, however, are very inconsiderable,
consisting merely of the keep and some outer walls. Caradoc, in his
History of Wales, says, that the manor and castle of Ogmore were bestowed
by Fitzhammon on William de Londres, one of his knights; from which its
foundation may be dated prior to the Norman conquest. The manor courts
are still held in a thatched hovel near it, which appears like an
overgrown pig-stye. Here, according to the custom of the times, a
religious institution followed the acquisition of power. William de
Londres, or his descendant John, built EWENNY PRIORY, at the distance of
a mile from the castle, and also near the road to Cowbridge: but in this
the proprietor seems not to have lost sight of his worldly interest; for
the strong embattled walls and towers that appear among the ruins of this
building would lead one to consider it as intended not less for the
purposes of war than of priestcraft; and its situation on the bank of the
Wenny was admirably adapted for the defence of that part of his domain.
In the hall of the house, a gloomy building, are several racks, which
appear to have been used for the lodging of arms. The church is a
venerable massive structure, wherein unornamented heavy arches repose on
short bulky columns of the rudest workmanship: it contains a monument of
Paganus de Turbeville, supposed to be the grandson of Fitzhammon's knight
of that name. The thick columns, plain capital, and circular arches of
this edifice, denote it to be of the earliest Norman architecture; and
might lead one to suppose it to be of Saxon origin, did not historical
facts invalidate the conjecture. Leland says that it was founded for
Benedictine monks; but neither he, Dugdale, nor Tanner, gives us the date
of its foundation. A.D. 1141 it was made a cell of St. Peter's of
Gloucester.
Not far from Ewenny, on the sea-coast, is DUNRAVEN-HOUSE, or castle, as
it is called by Caradoc; a misshapen dismal building, only to be admired
for its situation on a lofty sea promontory, commanding extensive
prospects. William de Londres, Lord of Ogmore (says Caradoc) won the
lordships of Kydwelhy and Carnewihion in Carmarthenshire from the
Welchmen; and gave to Sir Arnold Butler, his servant, the castle and
manor of Dunraven. It continued a long time in the possession of his
descendants; but at length fell to the Vaughans, the last of whom, as
tradition relates, was such an unprincipled wretch, that he set up
lights, and used other devices to mislead seamen, in order that they
might be wrecked on his manor. But his crimes did not escape punishment;
for it is said that three of his sons were drowned in one day by the
following accidents. Within sight of the house is a large rock called
the Swancar, dry only at low water; to which two of his sons went in a
boat to divert themselves: but not taking care to fasten their vessel, on
the rising of the tide it was washed away, and they left to the horrors
of their fate; which was inevitable, as the family had no other boat, nor
was there any other in the neighbourhood. Their distress was seen from
the house; and in the confusion their infant brother, being left alone,
fell into a vessel of whey, and was drowned almost at the same instant
with the other two. This was universally looked upon as a judgement for
the iniquities abovementioned; and Mr. Vaughan was so struck with the
transaction, that he immediately sold the house to Mr. Wyndham, ancestor
of the present proprietor.--Two extraordinary caverns, about a mile
westward of the house, we neglected to visit: the one called the Cave is
described to be a passage worn through a projecting stack of rocks,
running parallel with the sea-shore, and forming a kind of rude piazza,
with an entrance to the south, of very grand effect. The other, called
the Windhole, is a deep cavern, a little to the east of the Cave: its
depth from the entrance measures seventy-seven yards. There are two or
three small fissures through the roof of the cavern to the land above, a
considerable distance from the edge of the cliff; over which if a hat be
laid, it will be blown back into the air with considerable violence; but
this only happens when the wind blows fresh from the South-east.
ST. DONATT'S CASTLE, a few miles further on the coast, and about five
south-west of Cowbridge, is an extensive structure, of much antique
beauty, and is still partially inhabited. Its garden, descending in
terraces from the south wall, was formerly much admired, but now
"Sunk are the bowers in shapeless rain all,
And the long grass o'ertops the mould'ring wall.
Although loftily situated, the castle is so surrounded with high groves,
as only to be seen with advantage from some heights in the adjoining
park: on one of them is a watch-tower, which affords a prospect truly
grand and extensive. This castle is of very remote foundation, although
the greater part of the building indicates the work of latter ages. We
learn from Powell's translation of Caradoc, that the castle and manor of
St. Denewit, or St. Donatt, was apportioned to Sir William le Esterlong,
alias Stradling, on the conquest of Glamorgan. The Stradlings, outliving
the descendants of all the other twelve Knights, held it for 684 years;
but they becoming extinct, the estate fell to Busy Mansell, Esq. {163}
Between St. Donatt's and Cowbridge is Lantwit, a poor village, but once a
large borough town. On the north side of its church are some old British
relics, consisting of high carved stones; but whether sepulchral or
otherwise is not determined. LLANBITHIAN, or ST. QUINTIN'S CASTLE, is
situated about half a mile south of Cowbridge. The leading feature of
this ruin is a massive gateway, now converted into a barn; which, as well
as the other parts, denotes considerable original strength, and is said
to have been built prior to the arrival of Fitzhammon. The castle and
manor fell to the share of Sir Robert St. Quintin on the division of
Glamorgan; but it passed from his descendants in the reign of Henry the
Third, and is now the property of Lord Windsor. COWBRIDGE is a neat
little town seated on the banks of a small river. {164}
PENLINE CASTLE, loftily seated on a bold hill, and commanding a prospect
of uncommon diversity and extent, is about a mile distant from Cowbridge.
From the lines of Edward Williams, a native poet, it may appear that it
serves as a barometer for the neighbourhood:
"When the hoarse waves of Severn are screaming aloud,
And Penline's lofty castle's involv'd in a cloud;
If true the old proverb, a shower of rain
Is brooding above and will soon drench the plain."
This structure is of very ancient date: in some parts of the building the
stones are laid in the _herring-bone_ fashion; a mode observed in the
oldest parts of Guildford, Corfe, and others of the most ancient castles.
The mansion near to the ruin was built by Mr. Sergeant Sey, and is now
possessed by Miss Gwinit, by a bequest of the late Lady Vernon's.
A retrograde movement, hastily performed in a shower of rain, brought us
to Bridgend, a straggling little town, built on the opposing banks of the
river Ogmore. From this place a road passes to the village of COITY and
its dismantled castle. This ruin stands on a plain ground, and is
prettily interspersed with various trees and underwood: its foundation is
generally attributed to Paganus de Turbeville, one of Fitzhammon's
knights.--The continuance of our ride to Llantrissent boasted little
interest; until, making a curve near the seven-mile stone, when the wide
undulating vale of Cowbridge exhibited a most extensive tract of
beautiful fertility: among the high hills circumscribing the vale, that
sustaining Penline castle rose with superior importance. The whole laid
out in rich pastures and meadows, continually intersected with tufted
inclosures, and enlivened with embowered hamlets and detached whitened
buildings, formed a _coup d'oeil_ of considerable interest.
The old town of LLANTRISSENT appeared within a small distance of us, long
before we arrived at it: for, perched upon the summit of a high hill of
remarkable steepness, it was only by a circuitous road, then of
sufficiently fatiguing ascent, that it could be approached. This place,
comprised nearly in one narrow irregular street, and made up of poor
Gothic habitations, has so little of modern appearance engrafted on it,
that it may be interesting as a specimen of ancient times, but scarcely
in any other respect. The castle is nearly all destroyed; the fragment
of a lofty round tower, and the vestiges of its outworks, nearly
concealed by tangled shrubs, being all the remains of it. The church is
a large Norman edifice, and from the cemetery a wonderful prospect is
obtained of the surrounding country: although a hazy state of the
atmosphere denied us the whole of its extent, enough remained to assure
us that it must be considerable.
Pont-y-pridd, or New Bridge, was our next destination. My companion went
forward to secure accommodation at the Bridgewater Arms, a comfortable
inn about half a mile beyond it, while I was engaged in sketching some
subjects about Llantrissent; at which task I incautiously protracted my
stay
--"until the approach of night,
The skies warm blushing with departing light
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade."
As I proceeded from Llantrissent, cultivation diminished; and from that
fertile and populous district, bordering the Severn, I found myself
entering upon the unfrequented wilds of the interior country. It soon
became so dark, that I could but just distinguish the broken road that I
was travelling; which, although a Welch turnpike, a modern farmer in
England would be ashamed to own for his cartway. Not a human face or
habitation presented itself, nor any relief from silence, except the
uncheering note of the screech owl. At length, however, the distant
murmur of a waterfall saluted me; which, growing louder as I advanced,
presently accumulated to a hoarse roar; and, by the direction of the
sound, it appeared that I was travelling on a precipice above the
torrent. A plentiful shower falling at this instant did not add to the
comforts of my situation; and I found by the motion of the horse, that I
was on a steep descent; while his frequent slides and stumbles proved
that he was on very rugged ground, and probably out of any track. In
this dilemma imagination, ever active in magnifying concealed danger,
pictured my situation as tottering on the brink of some such chasm as
that of the Devil's bridge. Here I might have exclaimed with Ossian's
Colma: "It is night; I am alone, forlorn on the hill of storms. The wind
is heard on the Mountains; the torrent shrieks down the rock. No hut
receives me from the rain; forlorn on the hill of winds." But to remain
under such apprehensions were worse than to encounter danger, and I
slowly moved on in almost total darkness; until, making a sudden turn, I
beheld the tops of the neighbouring hills illumined in a strange manner.
In a few moments a gleam of light, transmitted by reflection through an
opening in some trees, shone on my track, and discovered a dark huge
figure standing at my horse's head. I was scarcely collected from my
surprize when my bridle was forcibly arrested, and a loud but
unintelligible voice seemed to demand that I should stop. Already was I
conceiving how to repel the attack, when the man, observing that I did
not understand Welch, civilly accosted me in imperfect English, and
assured me that I was on the edge of a precipice. Nor did he leave me
with this service, but kindly led my horse to the little village of
PONT-Y-PRIDD, then within a short distance. Here, while regaling over a
mug of ale, my conductor accounted for the light that surprized me: it
proceeded from an immense bonfire of a party of colliers in some distant
mountains, rejoicing at the blessing of peace. At this place I
determined to fix my quarters; nor could the offer of a guide and
lanthorn, to conduct me to the superior accommodation of the Bridgewater
arms, induce me to tempt again the dangers of the night, or quit the
coarse barley bread, salt butter, and miserable beer of the village
alehouse.
Early in the morning my companion rejoined me, when we visited
Pont-y-pridd, the celebrated bridge of Glamorganshire. This
extraordinary piece of masonry consists of a single arch, whose chord is
147 feet, thrown across the Taffe. William Edward, an ingenious mason of
this country, who built it, failed in two preceding attempts, which would
have proved his ruin; but the gentry in the neighbourhood laudably
supported ported his ingenuity, although at first unsuccessfully exerted,
and enabled him to complete the present structure. The great beauty of
this arch arises from the simplicity of its construction, and indeed from
its very defect as a roadway; for the passage over the bridge is not
sloped away into the adjoining roads, as it might be; but precipitately
descends on each side, following the line of the arch. This
circumstance, and its being defended with only a very low parapet, gives
the bridge a remarkably light appearance. Situated in a romantic hollow,
and abruptly jetting from the bold woody banks of the river, it looks a
magic bow thrown across by the hands of fairies.
Two waterfalls in this neighbourhood deserve notice. One occurs about
half a mile above the bridge. We proceeded to it through a delightful
sylvan path on the bank of the river, and under the beetling brow of
Craig-er-esk. The river is seen for a considerable distance struggling
through a region of rocks, which in some places rise in large masses
above its surface, and in others appear through the transparency of the
stream shelving to a considerable depth; wearing throughout the odd
appearance of a vast assemblage of cubes, variously heaped, but with one
face constantly horizontal: at length the river breaks over a compact
strata; yet only in a fall of eight or ten feet, which is divided into
several streams. The white foam of the river, and the light grey tint of
the rocks, afford a strong contrast to the mixed verdure and dark shadows
of its banks; but upon the whole the subject is rather to be noticed for
its singularity than for any leading points of picturesque beauty. More
agreeably composed appeared to us the other cascade of the tributary
river Rhayder, about two miles distant from the bridge. The dark rocks
that occasion the fall; the surrounding craigs; the light and pendant
foliage that adorns them, and the vigorous trees that emerge from the
banks, are all disposed with the utmost symmetry, and form a
highly-pleasing picture, though of inconsiderable dimensions.
CHAP. XII.
SCENERY OF THE TAFFE--STUPENDOUS RUINS OF CAERPHILLY CASTLE--THE LEANING
TOWER--FINE VIEW FROM THORNHILL--CARDIFF CASTLE--ECCLESIASTICAL DECAY OF
LANDAFF--THE CATHEDRAL.
From Pont-y-pridd we made another excursion toward Merthyr-tidvill; less
to witness the lately-acquired importance of the town in consequence of
the great iron-works established in its neighbourhood, than to trace the
beauties of the Taffe through its romantic valley. At one time, a
towering hill completely mantled with wood lifted its shaggy summit to
the clouds; in succession, naked rocks perpendicularly descended to the
water; or, through favoured hollows, a stripe of green meadow would
gently slope and mix its verdure with the stream. As we advanced, the
narrow valley still further contracted, and the river, confined by the
approaching bases of the mountains, assumed the character of a torrent.
Our road continued on one margin of the river, and a canal, singularly
abounding with locks, kept pace with us on the other; to the Cyclopean
region of Merthyr-tidvill. {173} We did not enter the town, but
re-measured our steps to Pont-y-pridd; and about four miles below it bade
adieu to the romantic course of the Taffe, in deviating up a steep
confine of its valley towards the town and castle of Caerphilly.
[Picture: Caerphilly Castle]
The celebrated ruin of CAERPHILLY CASTLE soon appeared at some distance
beneath us, occupying the centre of a small plain, which, with its
surrounding amphitheatre of hills, presented a display of regular fences
and cultivation that strikingly contrasted with the district that we had
just left. The idea formed on a first view of this stupendous pile is
rather that of a ruined town than a castle: it is by much the largest
ruin in Britain, although its dimensions are somewhat inferior to those
of Windsor castle. The high outer rampart, with its massive abutments
and frequent towers, still in a great measure entire, conveys at once a
clear impression of the great extent of the fortress. In entering upon
an examination of the ruin we passed the barbican, {174} now built up
into habitations; and, proceeding between two dilapidated towers, entered
the great area of the castle:--a range of building, beneath the rampart
on our right, once formed the barracks of the garrison. We then advanced
to that pile of superior building, _i.e._ of citadel, hall, chapel, state
and other apartments, which is generally considered as the castle, in
distinction from the encircling area and its wall: clambering over the
fragments of another drawbridge and its defending towers, we entered the
first court, which appears to have comprised the citadel: thence we
passed through a large gateway, with several grooves for portcullises, to
the principal court of the Castle. The area of this court is seventy
yards by forty: on the south side is that princely apartment, by some
considered the hall, and by others the chapel: but, whichever it may have
been, vestiges of much original beauty appear in the elegant outline of
its four large windows; the grand proportions of the chimney-piece, and
the light triplet pillars, with arches that go round the room. The
appearance of mortice holes in the walls for the ends of beams, at the
height of about the middle of the windows, led Camden to suppose that the
cieling was projected from thence, and that an apartment above was
lighted by the upper portion of the windows; but surely at a time when
symmetry in building was so well cultivated, and where it appears to have
been so successfully applied, such a ridiculous contrivance could not
have taken place: more probably, as I conceive, from those mortices a
support was derived for a lofty arched roof, or a gallery. {175}
Eastward of the hall, is the curiosity of a leaning tower, a bulky
fragment of the ruin between seventy and eighty feet in height, whose
walls are of a prodigious thickness: it hangs nearly eleven feet out of
the perpendicular, and is only held together by the strength of its
cement. How or when this phenomenon happened no legend informs us; but
it has remained in this state many centuries. As the adjoining towers,
and all the standing parts of the ruin, remain perpendicular, the cause
must have arisen from a local failure of the foundation: hence I am of
opinion, that a solution of the phenomenon may be found in the effects of
a mine, and which probably took place during the long siege which Hugh le
Despenser sustained in this castle in the time of Edward the Second.
Near this part of the ruin a place is shewn as the mint, with two
furnaces for melting metal. From this chamber we ascended a spiral
staircase to the corridor, still in very good preservation, which,
lighted by small windows, and passing round the principal court, formed a
communication with the different apartments. The external view of the
western entrance of the ruin, with its ponderous circular towers
venerably shaded with ivy, is remarkably striking; and, with the remains
of its drawbridge and defending outwork, may be considered as the most
entire part of the ruin. An artificial mound some distance off, but
within the works of the castle, was most likely used for exploratory
purposes.
From the great plan of this castle, and there being no direct evidence to
the contrary, its foundation has been attributed to the Romans; and some
ingenious arguments have been adduced to prove, that it was their Bullaum
Silurum. But it sufficiently appears, that no considerable part of the
present fortress was built by them, as the predatory army of Rhys Tycan
took and rased Caerphilly castle in 1221. The best supported opinion is
that of the Hon. Daines Barrington, who attributes the present erection
to Edward the First.--Caerphilly has lately increased from an obscure
village to a well-built little town; and the respectable appearance of
its two inns may be in a great measure dated from the great increase of
the visitants of the castle. {177}
We left Caerphilly, over to hilly boundary, on the road to Cardiff; where
we noticed the singular appearance of some peasants digging coals from
the surface of the ground. At the extremity of this tract, Thornhill, a
grand elevation, afforded us a most extensive prospect, which,
illuminated by an evening sun, formed a picture of uncommon brilliancy.
The wide plain of Cardiff displayed for many miles, in every direction, a
gratifying extent of Nature's bounty, in an endless variety of
cultivation, chequered with numberless hedgerows, and enlivened by
several villages, whose neatly whitened walls glistened through their
appendant foliage: the rich verdure was in one part varied by the russet
hue of an extensive warren. At the extremity of this tract appeared the
expansive Severn, in which the two islands of the steep and flat Holmes
were conspicuous; and afar off the bold hills of Somersetshire closed the
prospect. We slowly descended from the spot commanding this range of
objects, and travelled on a good road towards Cardiff, with the episcopal
ruins of Landaff at a small distance on our right.
On entering CARDIFF, the capital of Glamorganshire, between the
ivy-mantled walls of its castle, and the mouldering ruin of a house of
White Friars, we were much pleased with the aspect of the town: nor were
we less so on a closer examination of its neat well-paved streets; it
appearing to us one of the cleanest and most agreeable towns in Wales.
The high tower of its church, crowned with four transparent Gothic
pinnacles, had long engaged our interest; but on a near view we did not
find the body of the church to correspond with it; it being of an older
date, a plain Norman structure. This, I believe, was the conventual
church of the Franciscan Friars that are described as having occupied the
eastern suburb of the town. The other parish church, for Cardiff is
divided into two parishes, was undermined by the action of the river,
about a century and a half since, and fell down. The house of the White
Friars has been already noticed; and without the west gate stood a
monastery of Black Friars. This town was formerly encompassed by a wall,
and vestiges of its four gates yet remain. Cardiff, having the benefit
of a good harbour, carries on a brisk trade with Bristol, and other
places, and has of late considerably increased its commercial importance:
but perhaps its chief interest with tourists will be derived from its
castle.
CARDIFF CASTLE, a seat of the Marquis of Bute, (Baron Cardiff and Earl of
Windsor), was until lately a Gothic structure of considerable elegance;
but having undergone a repair, without attention to the antique style of
architecture, it presents a motley combination, in which the remaining
Gothic but serves to excite our regret for the greater portion destroyed.
The misguided direction of this work is prominently conspicuous in the
enlargement of the building, wherein fashionable square windows appear
throughout the lower apartments, while the original character of the
edifice is imitated in the Gothic lines of the upper windows: a strange
violation of common propriety, to raise an antique superstructure upon a
modern foundation! The part of the castle which is kept up is a single
range of building; and an elegant machicolated tower, overlooking the
whole, still frowns defiance on the petty innovations beneath. The
internal has been entirely new-planned, and a number of portraits of the
present lord's progenitors are ranged in the apartments, with the
principal events of their lives, emblazoned in letters of gold; but they
are for the most part indifferently executed. In front of the building
is a spacious lawn, from the trim surface of which rises an artificial
mound, bearing the mouldering ruin of the ancient keep, {181} carefully
shorn of shrub and briar. In the tower, at the entrance, a dark damp
dungeon is described to have been the prison of Robert duke of Normandy;
in which he was confined near thirty years, after being deprived of his
sight and inheritance by his younger brother Henry the First. But it is
more probable that he had the whole range of the castle; for, independent
of the improbability that any human creature could live so long in such a
place, we have the authority of Odo Vitalis and William of Malmesbury,
that Henry made his imprisonment as easy as possible; furnishing him with
an elegant table, and buffoons to divert him. A high rampart incloses
the whole; round the top of which a walk is carried, affording many
pleasing views of the surrounding country.
When Robert Fitzhammon conquered and divided the lordship of Glamorgan
with his twelve knights, he reserved the town of Cardiff, among other
estates, for himself, and erected this castle: here he held his courts of
Chancery and Exchequer; the forme
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