*A\tfW & W3CWB£» «y ■^uinoji- or LIBRARY ^ UNIVERSITY OF LALIFORNIA San DIEGO . _^ ll'iiifii'i'lHi °r ^"VrT"'* '"*" °'^°° 3 1822 02399 6978 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. iGnaiaaiaBimK 'furn^i^ or LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.G. 1895. PREFACE. HE kindly reception accorded to my ' Nooks and Corners of Herefordshire,' both by the pubHc and the press, has encouraged me (where, indeed, en- couragement was httle needed) to set forth anew upon my sketching rambles, and explore the Nooks and Corners of Pembrokeshire. In chronicling the results of these peregrinations, I feel that I owe some apology to those whose knowledge of the Shire of Pembroke is far more thorough and intimate than my own, and upon whose preserves I may fairly be accused of poaching. I venture to plead, in extenuation, an inveterate love for exploring these unfrequented byways of my native land, and for searching out and sketching those picturesque old buildings that lend such a unique interest to its sequestered nooks and corners. Pembrokeshire is rich in these relics of a bygone time, but for one reason or another they do not appear to have received the attention they certainly deserve. Few counties can boast anything finer of their kind than the mediseval castles of Pembroke, Manorbere and Carew ; while St. Davids Cathedral and the ruined Palace of its bishops, nestling in their secluded western vale, form a scene that alone is worth a visit to behold. No less remarkable in their way are the wonderful old crosses, circles and cromlechs, which remind the traveller of a vanished race as he tramps the broad fern-clad uplands of the Precelly Hills. It is a notable fact that ' he who runs may read," in the b viii PREFACE. diversified character of its place-names, an important and interesting chapter of Pembrokeshire history. The south-western portion of the county, with the Saxon ' tons ' of its Teutonic settlers, is as English as Oxfordshire, and hence has acquired the title of ' Little England beyond Wales.' On the other hand, the northern and eastern districts are as Welsh as the heart of Wales : and there, as the wayfarer soon discovers for himself, the mother -tongue of the Principality is the only one ' understanded of the people.' Although Pembrokeshire cannot pretend to lay claim to such striking scenery as the North Wallian counties display, yet its wind- swept uplands and deep, secluded dingles have a character all their own : while the loftier regions of the Precelly Hills, and the broken and \'aried nature of the seaboard, afford many a picturesque prospect as the traveller fares on his way. In compiling the following notes I have availed myself of Fenton's well-known work on Pembrokeshire, and of the writings of George Owen of Henllys ; I have consulted the records of that prolific chronicler, Gerald de Barri ; Bevan's ' History of the Diocese of St. Davids;' and Jones and Freeman's exhaustive work on St. Davids Cathedral ; besides various minor sources of local information which need not be specified here. In conclusion, I take this opportunity to tender my sincere thanks to those friends and acquaintances whose ready help and advice so greatly facilitated my task, while at the same time enhancing the pleasure of these sketching rambles amidst the Nooks and Corners of Pembroke- shire. H. THORNHILL TIMMINS. Harrow, 1S95. CONTENTS. A GENERAL SURVEY. THE KINC.'s TOWN OF TKNBV - - - - I ROUND AROUT THE RIDGEWAY ------- 23 MANORBERE CASTLE, AND GIRALDUS CAMBRENSIS - - - "41 PEMBROKE TOWN AND CASTLF. STACKPOLE AND THE SOUTHERN COAST - 54 TO ANGLE, RH6SCR0WTHER, AND THE CASTLE MARTIN COUNTRY - - "6 CAREW, WITH ITS^CROSS, CASTLE AND CHURCH. UPTON CASTLE AND CHAPEL. PEMBROKE DOCK AND HAVERFORDWEST - - - - "93 TO ST. BRIDES, MARLOES AND THE DALE COUNTRY ■ - - - II4 WESTWARD HO ! TO ST. DAVIDS. THE CITY AND ENVIRONS - - - 1 26 TO FISHGUARD, NEWPORT, GOODWIC AND PENCAER - - - - I42 NEWPORT, NEVERN AND TEIVYSIDE - - - - " "149 A RAMBLE OVER PRECELLY HILLS, TO THE SOURCES OF THE CLEDDAU - 167 ON AND OFF THE NARBERTH ROAD. I.ANGWM AND DAUGLEDD.\U - - 178 INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS. THK ROOD SCREEN, ST. DAVIDS CATHEDRAL BECALMED OFF TENF.Y - - - - TENBV ------ ^L\CES PRESENTED TO TENUY BY CHARLES II. - THE CHANCEL OF ST. MARV'S CHURCH, TENBY - A BIT OF OLD TENBV - - - . RUINS OF ST. M.\RY'S PRIORY AT TENBY OLD HOUSES AT TENBV . - - - THE WALLS OF TENBY TOWN ST. GEORGE'S G.\TE, TENBV THE PRIORV, CALDEY ISLAND THE ANCIENT TREASURY OF TENBV WEATHERCOCK ON TtNBY STEEPLE GUMFRESTON CHURCH - - - - CHURCH PLATE AT GUMFRESTON PENALLY HOUSE ----- AT I.AMPHEY PALACE ... - THE CHANCEL, HODUESTON CHURCH ANCIENT QUERN OR HAND MILL - KEYS OF MANORBERE CASTLE MANOR HERE CASTLE, FROM IHE EAST - THE COURTYARD, MANORBERE CASTLE - GATE-TOWER, MANORBERE CASTLE MANORBERE CASTLF, FROM THE SOUTH - PAGE Frnntispiece 14 '5 16 17 18 25 26 32 36 38 40 •t" 42 42 43 44 xii I.XDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE DE BARRl TOMB, MANORBERE -..---. 47 THE CHURCH PATH, MANORBERE - - - - - - 49 MANORBERE CHURCH ....--.. 50 ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON - - - - - - "54 PEMBROKE ---------- 55 PEMBROKE CASTLE .----.-. 56 THE OLD WEST GATE, PEMBROKE - - ■ - - - 61 THE PRIOR'S DWELLING, MONKTON - - - - - - 62 SIR ELIDUR DE STACKPOLE ------- 64 STACKPOLE -.----.--. 66 THE HIRLAS HORN ........ (yj ST. GOVAN'S CHAPEL -_...--- 6g ORIELTON .----..--- 74 AT Rh6SCR0WTHER --....-- 75 SEA-POI'PV ---------- 76 seamen's chapel at ANGLE - - - - - - - 81 RUINED CASTLE AT ANGLE ------- 82 JESTYNTON ---------- 85 AT RHIISCKOWIHER -------- 88 CASTLE MARTIN CHURCH -------- 90 A WAYSIDE WELL -.------- g2 CASTLE MARTIN FON 1' -------- 92 CAREW CROSS --------- 93 THE CROSS OF THE .SON OK ILTEUT, THE SON OF ECETT ■ - - 94 A CORNER OF CAUEW CASTLE ------- 97 CAREW CASTLE .--.----- 98 BOV-BISHOP, CAREW - - - ----- 99 OLD RECTORY HOUSE .\T CAREW ------- lOO UPTON CASTLE - - - - - - - " - lOI OLD CHAPEL AT UPTON, NEAR PEMBROKE . - - - - 103 FRO.M UPTON CHAPEL -------- I06 LUCY WALTERS ..------- I07 JOHNSTONE CHURCH - • - - " " >• - I08 IXDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS. A VIEW OK HAVERFORDWEST IIROTHER RICHARD'S TOMB, HAVERFORDWEST - ST. MARY'S, HAVERFORDWEST ARMS OF HAVERFORDWEST CHALICE AT DALE - - - - - WALTON-WEST CHURCH - . - - WALWVN"S CASTLE - - - - - SUMMER SHOWERS, LITTLE HAVEN LITTLE HAVEN . - . - - LOW TIDE AT LITTLE HAVEN ST. BRIDES ------ ORLANDON ------ MULLOCK BRIDGE - - - - - MARLOES ------ MARLOES SANDS - - - . - DALE CASTLE, AND MILFORD HAVKX 'THIS IS brunt' - - - - - A RELIC OF THE SPANISH ARMADA THE ST. DAVIDS COACH - - - . ROCH CASTLE - - . - - SOLVA HARBOUR, FROM AN OLD PRINT - ST. DAVIDS CATHEDRAL - - - - THE G.\TE-TOWER, ST. DAVIDS THE BONE OF CONTENTION SEAFARING PILGRIMS . . . - THE BOATBUILDERS - . . . ST. DAVID'S SHRINE - . - . SY.MBOL OF THE TRINITY, ST. DAVIDS BISHOP GOWER'S PALACE, ST. DAVIDS THE PALACE, ST. DAVIDS, FROM THE MEADOWS OLD COTTAGE NEAR ST. DAVIDS - THE PRIEST AND THE LAYMAN - THE ROYAL OAK, FISHGUARIl PAGE 109 I [O : 1 1 '3 114 "5 "5 [16 "7 117 18 19 20 121 124 25 126 127 128 129 29 30 131 132 ^ii 135 J 36 137 140 141 '42 EGLWYSFAIR GLAN TAF xiv INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIOSS. PAGE CLOCK AT HRESTGARN - - - " - • " - '44 LLANWNDA CHURCH - - - " " " " ' '45 THE CHALICE AT LLANWNDA - - - - - " - 1 4O A DERELICT - - - " " " • " - 1 48 SALMON FISHER WITH CORACLE - - - - " " ■ '49 TREWERN CHAPEL AND HYRNACH'S CROSS, NEVERN - - - - '53 PILGRIMS' CROSS AT NtVERN - - - - " " " '55 THE TOAD OF TRELLYFAN - - " V " " - 1 CROMLECH AT PENTRE EVAN - • - " " " ■ 1 5^ 161 - 162 164 164 166 167 168 176 A TEIVVSIDE CORACLE KILGERRAN FERRY KILGERRAN CASTLE, FROM THE TEIFV - - - " " " 163 LLECHRHYD BRIDGE CASTLE MALGWYN • - - " CROMLECH AT NEWPORT ■ OLD WELSHWOMAN THE SKIRTS OF PRECELLY THE HOWARD MONUMENT, AT RUDBAXI'ON AT HAVERFORDWESr - - - " " ' " -177 CARVED BENCH-END, HAVERFORDWEST - - - - - - 1 78 OLD STAIRCASE AT HAVERFORDWEST - - - - - - 1 78 UZMASTON - - - - • - - • - - 179 181 1S2 l" 185 188 LANGWM FISHWIVES ------- LAWRENNV CASTLE ------- BENTON CASTLE ■ - " " " " " " " ' o J PICTON CASTLE -------- SLEBECH OLD CHURCH ------- LLAWHADEN CASTLE AND BRIDGE - ■ ■ - " - I9I - '97 - 198 REDBERTH FONT MAP OF PEMBROKESHIRE - ... - - - at begimung SPEED'S MAP OK THE COUNTY ((/ end NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. CHAPTER I. A GENERAL SURVEY. THE KING'S TOWN OF TEXBV. AWAY be3-ond the many-folding hills of Brecon and Glamorgan, whose hollow 'cwms' are seamed with smoke from many a pit and furnace : far away beyond the broad uplands and fertile straths where Towey and Teivy seek the sea ; the ancient shire of Pembroke thrusts forth, against the western main, its bold and rugged coast- line. From Strumble Head to Caldey, the grim primeval rocks that guard these storm-beaten shores bear the full brunt of the Atlantic gales upon their craggy bastions ; which, under the ceaseless influence of time and tempest, have assumed endless varieties of wild, fantastic outline and rich harmonious colouring. A weather-beaten land is this, where every tree and hedgerow tells, in horizontal leeward sweep, of the prevalent ' sou'-wester.' Few hills worthy the name break these wide-expanded landscapes, above whose 'meane hills and dales' one graceful mountain range rises in solitary pre-eminence. Stretching athwart the northern portion of the county, the shapely peaks of the Precelly Mountains dominate every local prospect, attaining in Moel Cwm Cerwyn a height of 1,760 feet, and throwing out westwards the picturesque heights of Carn Englyn ; I W^ 2 NOOk'S AND CORNERS OF rEMBROKESHIRE. whence the range finally plunges seawards in the bold buttress of Dinas Head, and the wild and rugged hills of Pencaer. The inferior heights of Treffgarn and Plumstone ' mountain,' whose singular crags recall the tors of Cornwall, form a quaint feature in the prospect during the otherwise tedious drive to St. Davids. Perched upon the westernmost spur of these hills, the lonely peel-tower of Roch Castle looks out across the wind-swept plains of old Dewis- land to the fantastic peaks of Cam Lhdi and Pen-beri, whose ancient rocks rise abruptly from the ocean. Down from the broad, fern-clad shoulders of Precelly flow the few Pembrokeshire streams that approach the dignity of rivers. Hence the twin floods of Eastern and Western Cleddau, rising far asunder at opposite ends of the range, meander southwards in widely-deviating courses through the heart of the county, to unite beneath the walls of Picton Castle, and merge at last into the tidal waters of Milford Haven. Westwards flows the little river Gwaen, circling through a pic- turesque vale beneath the shadow of Carn Englyn, and emerging from its secluded inland course upon the narrow, land-locked harbour of Fishguard. Towards the north a group of streamlets unite to form the Nevern River, which flows, amidst some of the most charming scenery in the county, through the village of that ilk. After passing beneath the luxuriant groves of Llwyngv»-air, the Nevern stream enters a sandy bay and bears the modest commerce of Newport to the water- side hamlet of Parrog. The Newgale Brook sweeps around Roch Castle, and enters St. Bride's Bay through a broad rampart of shingle and sand. This latter stream has from very early times formed the boundary between the ancient provinces of Dewisland and Rhos ; and to this day the Newgale Brook draws a line of demarcation between an English and a WMsh speaking people. Upon its left bank lies Rhos, a portion of the district known as ' Little England beyond Wales,' with its Saxon speech and Norman fortress of Roch; while all to westward stretches venerable Dewisland, Welsh now as ever in tongue and in title. The Solva River, emerging from a deep and narrow 'cwm,' forms A GENERAL SURVEY. 3 one of the most picturesque harbours upon the coast — a tempting nook for the artist. Lastly, the httle Allan Water, rising amidst those curious hills which overlook St. Davids, meanders past open, gorse-clad commons and marshlands abloom with the golden flag. Thenceforth the Allan winds around the ruins of the Bishop's palace, and finally loses itself in a tiny haven frequented by a few trading craft and small coastwise colliers. Deep into the bluff outline of this sea-girt land, old Ocean en- croaches by two important inlets of widely different character. As the wayfarer bound to St. Davids approaches his destination, the tedium of the long coach-drive is at last relieved by the welcome outlook across a broad expanse of sea. This is St. Bride's Bay, whose waters sweep inland past the ancient city for a distance of ten miles or so, having the large islands of Ramsey and Skomer lying upon either horn of the bay. Tradition tells that, 'once upon a time,' a fair country studded with villages and farmsteads flourished where now the ocean rolls ; and traces of submerged forests about Newgale, and elsewhere within the compass of the bay, suggest a possible grain of truth in the local fable. A few miles farther down the coast the famous estuary of Milford Haven opens seaward between the sheltering heights of St. Anne's Head, and the long, crooked peninsula of Angle. Wonderful are the ramifications of this magnificent water-way, within whose spacious roadstead the whole British navy might with ease find anchorage ; while its land-locked tidal reaches bear a modest local traffic to many a remote inland district, calling up memories of savours nautical beside the grass-grown quays of Pembroke and ' Ha'rfordwest.' Well might Imogen marvel why Nature should have singled out ' this same blessed Milford ' for such a priceless endowment, exclaiming : ' Tell me how Wales was made so happy as To inherit such a Haven.' The quaint author of ' Polyolbion ' no less enthusiastically remarks : ' So highly Milford is in every mouth renown'd, Noe Haven hath aught good, that in her is not found ;' 4 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. while lastly, not to be outdone, George Owen, the old Pembrokeshire chronicler, declares his beloved ' Myllford Haven ' to be the ' most famouse Porte of Christendome.' Ever since those legendary days when St. Patrick sailed for the Emerald Isle upon the traditional millstone, this incomparable haven has continued to be a favourite point of departure for the opposite shores of Ireland ; and several historical personages appear at intervals in the annals of local events. Hence, for example, Henry II. sailed away upon his conquest of old Erin ; while in the Fourth Henry's reign a large body of French troops disembarked upon these shores, to co-operate in the wars of ' the irregular and wild Glendower.' Yet another famous individual, ycleped Henry ap Edmund ap Owain ap Meredydd ap Tydwr, better known as Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, landed at Milford Haven in the year of grace 1485, to set forth upon the historical campaign which won for him a crown on Bosworth held. Here, again, the ubiquitous Oliver Cromwell embarked with an army of some 15,000 men, to carry his victorious arms against the rebellious Irish ; and hence, in these piping times of peace, the mail-boats sail at frequent intervals to the seaports of the Emerald Isle. Penetrating thus deeply into the country, one crooked arm of the great estuary ' creketh in ' beneath the stately ruins of Carew Castle, in such wise as to partially ' peninsulate ' a remote but interesting portion of South Pembrokeshire, which is still further isolated by the low range of the Ridgeway, between Pembroke and Tenby. This little district contains within its limited compass a wonderful variety of ruined castles, ancient priories, quaint old parish churches and curious, fortified dwelling-houses of the English settlers. Nestling in the more sheltered hollows, or clinging limpet-like to the storm-swept uplands, these characteristic structures arouse the way- farer's interest as he paces the short, crisp turf rendered sweet by the driven sea-spray. Occasionally he will set his course by some promi- nent church steeple, which at the same time affords a landmark to the passing mariner as he sails around the wild and iron-bound headlands of the southern coast. A GENERAL SURVEY. 5 Throughout the length and breadth of Pembrokeshire, the constant recurrence of camps, cromlechs, hut-circles and other prehistoric remains, points to the existence of an extremely ancient people, whose origin is involved in the mists of unrecorded antiquity. These primaeval monuments, seemingly old as the bleak hills they crown, suggest many an insoluble conundrum to the curious visitor, who, gazing in wonder upon their weatherbeaten yet indestructible masses, disposes of the archaic enigma as best he may by exclaiming : ' There were giants in those days !' Coming down to the comparative terra-firma of historic times, we find, at the period of the Roman invasion, a Celtic race called the Demeta; dwelling in the district of which our county forms a portion. The masters of the world appear to have pushed their way to the western seaboard, where, according to tradition, they established their colony of Menapia beneath the shelter of the headland known to Ptolemy as Octopitarum ; connecting it, according to their custom, by the roadway of Via Julia with their base at Muridunum, or Carmarthen ; while the probably still older road, called Via Flandrica, or Fordd Fleming, afforded a route across the mountains to the north. Taking another lengthy stride across the intervening centuries, we may trace the footsteps of the Norman invaders. Under the leadership of Arnulph de Montgomery, they overran these newly-conquered lands, and established themselves in those great strongholds of Pembroke, Manorbere, Carew, Haverfordwest and Roch, whose dismantled walls still dominate the surrounding country. The wild Welsh proving inconveniently restive, that astute monarch Henry I. imported a colony of sturdy Flemings to assist in keeping order upon these distant marchlands ; an event which exerted a marked influence upon the course of local history. These thrifty settlers received further aid from the Second Henrj-, and settled down to cultivate the land wrested from the Celtic peasantry. The natives, however, still continued to behave in a very unneigh- bourly fashion, ' making,' as we are told, ' verie sharpe warres upon the Flemings, sometimes with gaine, sometimes with losse ;' so that they 6 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEM nROKESHIRE. were obliged to build for themselves those stronj,', fortitied dwelling- houses whose massive remains are so frequently met with throughout the southern parts of the county. In course of time the language of the immigrants superseded the ancient tongue of Celtic Dyfed, and thus that portion of the district comprised within the hundreds of Castlemartin and Rhos acquired the title of ' Little England beyond Wales,' whose Saxon place-names, such as Johnston, Williamston, Hodgeston and the like, contrast so strikingly with the universal Llan-this, that and the other, still common throughout the upper country. We have already had occasion to refer to Henry of Richmond's famous visit to Milford, and to recall the expeditions of Cromwell and other prominent personages from that noble haven to Ireland. The French ' invasion ' of Wales in 1797 will be referred to in dealing with the scenes of that notorious exploit ; and in the course of our narrative we shall touch upon various other historical incidents connected with the nooks and corners of this fascinating county. Owing to the prevalence of westerly breezes from the open Atlantic, tempered by the beneficent influence of the Gulf Stream, Pembroke- shire is blessed with a mild and remarkably equable climate. Hence the air is at the same time both dry and bracing, particularly in the southern portion of the county, where, in sheltered situations, the myrtle, fuchsia and syringa flourish al fresco all the year round. Nothing can exceed the luxuriance of the vegetation in the spacious demesne of Stackpole Court, where, sheltered from the strong winter gales that sweep across these gorse-clad uplands, the oak, ash, beech, ilex, sycamore and other forest trees, ' crowd into a shade ' beside the lily-strewn meres whose placid waters mirror their spreading branches. This favoured region boasts, we believe, an average temperature of about 50" Fahr., and it has been shown by careful analysis that, taking one season wuth another, there is little to choose between the average climates of Madeira and of Tenby. These favourable conditions do not, of course, obtain to the same degree in the north ; where rough winds occasionally sweep down from A GENERAL SURVEY. 7 the Precelly Mountains, drivinj^ keenh- across the open coiintr\- and retarding the vegetation. Nevertheless there are sheltered nooks around Newport and Fishguard where the eucalyptus, mulberry and fig-tree attain a goodly stature. Sun-warmed spots such as these form, however, mere oases of verdure amidst the rolling, wind-swept uplands of the interior; where the hardier trees alone rear their stunted forms above the rough stone walls which serve in place of hedgerows, or cluster around a group of solid, one-storied cottages, whose low walls, deep roofs and vast, bulging chimneys are overspread with one universal coating of dazzling white- wash ; ' to keep out the weather,' as the countryfolk will tell }-ou — very clean, no doubt, but the reverse of picturesque in appearance. The native style of building is well exhibited in the ancient parish churches, more especially in those towards the southern seaboard of the count}-, which are distinguished by a rugged simplicity entirel}- in keeping with the stern and sombre character of the surrounding land- scape. Of architecture there is but little ; such beauty as the edifice can boast having to be sought in the picturesque grouping of its rambling gables beneath the tall, square, fortress-like tower; and the quaint, unlooked-for character of the cavernous interior. The nave is frequently covered with a rude stone barrel vault, from which low vaulted transepts open out like cells on either hand, whence vast ' squints,' forming narrow passages, branch diagonally into the chancel. Low arches, sometimes pointed, sometimes of a curious flat shape and almost invariably devoid of mouldings, open into the aisles, which are lighted by lancet windows of simple but good design ; while sometimes a roomy porch or handsome sedilia adds a touch of distinction to an otherwise homely interior. We may instance, as typical examples of these sacred edifices, the churches of Gumfreston, St. Florence, Castlemartin and, par excellence, of Manorbere. A handsomer development may be studied in the parish churches of Tenby, Carew and Hodgeston, and the fine old priory church of Monkton. The graceful thirteenth-century pillars and arches of St. Mary's, Haverfordwest, are unusually ornate for this locality, and NOOA'S AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. are only exxelled by the varied and beautiful architecture of St. Davids Cathedral itself. There can be little doubt that the hard, intractable nature of the local limestone is in some degree responsible for the primi- tive characteristics of many of these churches ; for, despite their archaic appearance, they are rarely older than early thirteenth-century times. Beautiful in their decay are the time-honoured ruins of the episcopal palaces of Lamphey and St. Davids ; whose mellow-toned walls with their singularly graceful arcades mark the constructive genius of Bishop Gower, the Wykeham of the West. The numerous mediaeval castles, whose ruined walls and ivy- mantled towers so frequently meet the eye, form a striking feature in many a picturesque scene; from the rugged bastions which cluster beneath the mighty keep of Pembroke, and the many-windowed front of lordly Carew, to the lonely peel-tower of Roch and the remote and isolated block-houses which keep ward around the coast. Having thus obtained a general coup d'ceil of our field of action, we will proceed to explore at our leisure the nooks and corners of this pleasant countryside ; so, with this purpose in view, we now make our way to that highly-favoured watering-place, the ' King's town of Tenby.' SHiCALMSS fflPfTSHBy. '? One clear, calm evening in May of this drouthy year of grace 1893, we emerge dusty and sun-baked from the tropical recesses of the ' tunnel express,' alight at Tenby Station, and wend our way through the streets of that clean little town to seaside quarters overlooking a la THE 'king's town OF TENBY ! 9 picturesque bay, where some fishing-craft lie quietly at anchor off the harbour mouth. Towards sundown a miniature fleet of trawlers sweeps gracefully landwards around the Castle Hill, looking for all the world like a flight of brilliant butterflies ; their russet sails glowing in the warm light of the sun's declining rays with every hue from gold to ruddy purple, recalling memories of gorgeous scenes on far-away Venetian lagoons. Hailing from many a haven between Milford and strong - savoured Bri.xham, these handy little vessels ply their calling around our south- western shores ; pushing their ventures, when opportunity serves, to the North Sea fishing-grounds, and even to the remoter shores of Scotland. The visitor curious in such matters soon learns to distinguish between the well-found Brixham trawler and the handy sloop from Milford, cer- tain cabalistic letters painted upon the parti-coloured sails denoting the port where, according to custom, each boat is respectively registered. Tenby town is in many respects happy in what a local historian quaintly terms its ' approximation.' Turning its back upon the quarter whence blow the strongest gales, and sheltered by the high ground of the Ridgeway, that part of the town most frequented by visitors faces south by east across the land-locked waters of Carmarthen Bay. Hence a pleasant view is obtained of the opposite coast of Gower and the more distant highlands of North Devon ; while Caldey Island lies like a breakwater against the waves of the open Channel. As shrewd old Leland observes : ' Tinbigh Town standith on a main Rokke, but not very hy ; and the Severn Se so gultith in about hit that, at the ful Se, almost the third part of the Toun is inclosid with water.' Tenby can boast a fair sprinkling of good hotels and lodging- houses. The town is made further attractive as a place of residence by a well-appointed club, a circulating library, excellent public baths and a small museum of local interest. Last, but by no means least amongst its attractions. Nature has provided a broad expanse of firm, dry sands, much appreciated by children and bathers at holiday times. With a fair train-service upon the railway, good carriages and boats for hire, and steamboats calling at intervals, Tenby affords a convenient centre whence to explore the remoter recesses of South lo NOOK'S AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. Pembrokeshire, for few and far between are the resting-places for the wayfarer in that rather inaccessible region. Djnbych-y-Pysgod — the Little Town of Fish — appears to have been a place of some importance from very earlj- times. B}- the middle of the twelfth century we find the town in the hands of the Flemish soldiery ; and subsequently disasters came thick and threefold upon the devoted inhabitants. During the reign of Henry II., Maelgwyn ap Rhys, a person who is euphemistically described as ' of civil behaviour and honesty in all his actions,' ascertaining that many of the townsfolk were absent at the foreign wars, made a sudden onslaught, set fire to the ill-fated town, and burnt it to the ground. Less than a century later the place was again taken and destroj-ed b)- Llewelyn ap Grufydd ; and after a further respite of about 200 years, the notorious Owain Glyndwr appeared before the walls, laid siege to, and made himself master of the little Western seaport. Notwithstanding these misfortunes, ' the King's town of Tenby ' henceforth grew and prospered unmolested. In 1402 Tenby was made a corporate town ; and by the middle of the fifteenth century it had already become a centre of considerable trade and enterprise, encom- passed by strong stone walls and towers built by Earl William de Valentia, Lord of Pembroke. The town walls are said to have been rebuilt bj- one Thomas White, the scion of a famous burgher famil\-, who was Mayor of this ancient borough in 1457. \\'hen Leland passed this way in the reign of bluff King Hal, he found the ' Toun strongeli waullid and well gatid, everi Gate having hys Port collis ex, solide fcvro.' ' But,' says Fenton, writing in the early part of the present century, ' it was left for Queen Elizabeth, who was a great benefactress of the town in general, and whose initials are still extant over parts of the town walls, to contribute that strength and perfection to them which the present remains are a striking proof of.' Earl W^illiam (who appears to have been a generous patron of the town) granted the first charter of liberties, which was afterwards renewed and confirmed b}- successive reigning sovereigns. Several of these interest- ing documents are still in the possession of the Corporation, including TENBY CHURCH. II an illuminated charter of Richard III.'s reign, and another granted by Edward VI., which is enriched with a quaint, archaic portrait of that youthful monarch. Tenby also boasts a handsome pair of silver maces, presented to the town by Charles II. They are about 2 feet in length, and are emblazoned with the royal arms, the arms of Tenby, and other appro- priate devices, with the inscription ' Rice Borrow Maior, 1660.' The upper portion of the head is formed as a moveable lid, so that the mace could be used upon festive occasions as a loving-cup. Since those turbulent days of its earlier career, Tenby has played the modest role of a town without a history, and has happily combined the avocations of a fishery town with the seductions of a modern watering-place. Turning out into the steadfast sunshine, we now thread our way amid the intricacies of the older byways to the ' faire Paroche chirche,' whose steeple, soaring high aloft, appears a landmark to mariners far out at sea. Dedicated to St. Mary, this church is one of the largest and handsomest in the county, and is unrivalled in the beauty and interest of its monuments. Foremost amongst these are the twin marble monuments in St. Anne's Chapel, which figure in the foreground of our sketch. Here lie buried several distinguished members of that famous family, the Whites (_)f Tenby, which has given many worthy citizens to the town. 12 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. Beneath the right-hand tomb rests Thomas White, merchant and sometime Alderman of Tenb\- : whose recumbent effigy, habited in the distinctive costume of his calhng, adorns the monument. He it was who enabled Henry, Earl of Richmond, to escape after the battle of Tewkesburj-, by concealing him in his house at Tenby until such time as he could ship him safely off in one of his own vessels to France. In gratitude for this yeoman service the Earl, upon his accession to the •Rby- throne, presented his trusty friend with the lease of all the Crown lands around the town. The adjacent monument, which closely resembles its neighbour, records another member of the White family. Both these tombs are enriched with figures, in panels of bold relief, with a running inscription in medieval character carved upon the margin. Our attention is next attracted by the gaily-tinted effigy of William Risam, who, clad in aldermanic robes, kneels beneath a canopy built TENBY CHURCH. 13 into the chapel wall. The figure is coloured in such a life-like manner that, as the story goes, a Parliamentarian soldier fired at the supposed enemy ; in witness whereof a bullet-hole may be discerned above the head of the effigy. Near at hand lies the last of that ancient family the Vaughans, of Dunraven in South Wales ; a man who, having run through his patrimony at breakneck pace, allowed the ancestral mansion to fall into ruin, and betook himself to a lonely turret upon the seaward cliffs. Here he is said to have spent his time in showing false lights along the coast, in order to lure passing vessels ashore and enrich himself by the plunder of their cargoes. One stormy night, during one of these sinister exploits, the body of his only son was washed ashore at his feet ; when, overcome by this ominous catastrophe, he quitted the neighbourhood, withdrew from all intercourse with his fellow-creatures, and ended his days in seclusion at Tenb}-. Standing upon the chapel floor hard by, we espy a fine old fifteenth -century church bell bearing in black-letter characters the words SANCTA ►J" ANNA, with the initials K. T. This is the ancient sanctus-bell of this same chapel of St. Anne, which has descended to its present lowly position from the exterior of the tower, having been hung there, as is supposed, long years ago by Thomas ap Rhys, of Scotsborough, a descendant of the famous Rhys ap Thomas who played so important a part in the establishment of Henry VH. upon the throne. The memory of this worthy knight is kept evergreen by the gaudy and rather pretentious-looking monument seen on the farther wall. There he kneels, with folded hands, arrayed in ruffles and trunk- hose ; his ' better half," who is represented as of gigantic proportions, reposing uncomfortably upon her side ; while in panels beneath appear the sons and daughters, arranged in symmetrical gradation. A glance at the sketch will show the pretty contrast afforded by the diversified forms of the arches; while the lofty flight of steps ascending to the chancel, and the dark timbers of the roof supported by well-carved angels upon massive brackets, enhance the effect of the handsome interior. Quitting the church by its massive south porch, we pause beneath 14 ATOOk'S AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. the spreading elms that adorn the churcliyard to admire a singular group of arches, set in a crumbling fragment of ruined wall, whose gray, time-worn stones are abloom with bright tufts of pink valerian. These appear to be the sole remains of a house of Carmelite nuns, established A.D. 1399 by one John deSwyne- more ; and so graceful are these richly-moulded arches that we can but regret that more of the structure has not been spared to us. It is probable that these ruins are of coeval date with the adjacent western doorway of the church, which has a peculiar ogee arch surmounted with the following inscription in Gothic characters: benedictus dels IN DONIS SUIS. Rambling haphazard around the little town, such names as Frog Street, Crackwell Street and the like, tickle our fancy as a quaint relief to modern street nomenclature, which, usually devoid of originality, too often supplants local names racy of the soil. A sudden turn down a narrow lane, hanging, as it were, upon the steep hillside, reveals glimpses of old-world Tenby which beguile our wandering steps from the hard highway. At a secluded corner of these by-lanes a gray and weather-beaten old house stands, forsaken and neglected, amid the meaner dwellings that encompass it. The well-proportioned windows and pointed door- way which adorn the massive front lend a certain air of faded dignity, as though the old place had once ' seen better days ': while above the OLD TENBY. IS high-pitched roof peers one of those curious, rounded erections called hereabouts ' Flemish ' chimneys. In conjunction with the ancient gables at the rear of the adjacent saddler's shop, this interesting old structure forms one of the most picturesque relics yet remaining of the Tenby of ' auld lang syne.' Following hence the groups of stalwart fisher-folk as, with large air of leisure, they stroll adown the hill, we soon find ourselves upon the ' Peere made for Shyppes ' which encloses the little harbour. Here stood in olden times the seamen's chapel of St. Julian, which was subsequently converted into a bath-house : thus ' cleanliness comes next to godliness '; and a pretty modern chapel now stands beside the quay. Close at hand, in a sheltered cove, the lifeboat lies in wait beside a rudimentary iron ' peere,' which threatens to stretch its spindle shanks athwart the comely crescent of the baj-, beneath the fortress-crowned islet of St. Catherine. The adjacent Castle Hill is crowned by a lofty watch-tower, some ruined outworks of the ancient city walls, and a handsome marble statue of the late Prince Consort, of heroic size : lower down stands 3 1 6 A'OOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. a small but \vell-arranf:;cd museum, which contains a representative collection of local natural history, besides valuable cases of shells, coins, etc. ArchEEolo^ists will notice with interest the small alabaster g:roup of St. George and the Dragon, rescued from a cottage in course of demo- THE TOWN WALLS. 17 lition at Tenby; and a fine specimen of a quern, used for grinding corn, found near Popton. Tiie exterior is fasiiioned into the form of a human face, and as it is known that only the earher examples were ornamented, this quern is ciHisidered to be of very high antiquity. The seaward face of the liill is laid out in winding walks, with sheltered seats at in- tervals, where visitors and townsfolk congre- gate upon the sunny slopes to indulge in a spell of dolce far nicntc, or to enjoy the wide panorama of land and sea that lies outspread around. The return to the town may be varied by strolling along the broad, firm sands be- neath curiously con- torted rocky cliffs, aglow just now with masses of the white and red valerian. Clambering up a long flight of steps, we soon find ourselves abreast of the massive walls which in olden times protected the town upon its landward side, and terminated upon the precipitous edge of the clift" in the quaint, ivy-clad tower that rises right here before us. These ancient walls are still (in spite of hard treatment in bygone times from vandalistic hands) in a fair state of preservation ; and form, with their boldly-projecting towers and broken battlements, the most i8 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEM lUWKESHIRE. striking and picturesque feature of the town. They are perhaps seen to the best advantage from near the north-west corner, whence a general coup d'a'il is gained of their respective sides. Sauntering under the shady trees on the site of the ancient moat, we pass beside the south-west front, to which, as by far the most com- plete, we now devote our attention. Here we notice how the sturdy round tower which guards the converging angle spreads boldly out at »|^^^U-f^^^W^ t'"' ^'^:t^1'fl ^T G£oa,'ai. its base ; anon we observe another tower of similar form, through which the easy-going authorities of some past time have actually permitted a huge opening to be hewn to admit the passage of a ropewalk ! A stone's -throw farther on rises the broad bulk of the great St. George's Bastion, marking the entrance to one of the principal town gates, and pierced with five archways, in two of which the grooves for the portcullis may still be discerned. Overhead a gangway ran around the inner face uf the wall, which is provided with lancet-holes CALDEY ISLAND. 19 for the use of archers, and is crowned with the usual corbelled battle- ments. Altogether this fine old structure presents a most picturesque appearance ; its ancient archwaj-s being frequently enlivened by groups of market folk passing to and fro, while the rough gray stones of its venerable walls are wreathed with masses of flowering plants. A number of shabby dwellings which encumbered the approach have re- cently been swept away ; one dilapidated old building with curious circular chimneys (said to have been used as a lazar-house) alone being spared. Beyond St. George's Bastion rises another ivy-mantled tower, near which we espy a stone panel let into the wall, bearing the superscription ' A" 15S8, E. R.' Being interpreted, this inscription records that Tenby walls were repaired in the thirtieth year of good Queen Bess's reign. Farther on the wall is pierced with a wide open archway, and terminates abruptly upon the precipitous edge of the cliff in a square, battlemented turret bearing a strong family likeness to the church towers of this locality. The walls seem to have been pierced with a double row of lancet-holes for the use of archers, the upper tier being commanded by a gangway carried upon pointed arches, while the lower row is accessible from the ground. The day waxing warm and sunn}', we now make for the harbour again, and charter one of the numerous well-found pleasure-boats which lie in wait for visitors. An hour's pleasant sail over a sea blue as the Mediterranean, and we land upon the shores of Caldey Island, like the Old Man of the Sea, pick-a-back fashion astride the boatman's back. ' This island,' says George Owen, ' is verie fertile and yeldeth plentie of corne ; all their plowes goe with horses, for oxen the in- habitantes dare not keepe, fearing the purveyors of the pirattes as they themselves told me, whoe often make their provisions there by theire owne comission, and comonlie to the good contentment of the in- habitantes, when conscionable theefes arrive there.' A grassy track, winding up the sloping bank amidst gorse and bracken, now leads across a stream and beside a few quarrymen's cottages to a dejected-looking chapel. In a neglected corner of the NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. interior we discover the object of our visit — to wit, a recumbent oblong stone inscribed with certain archaic characters, which have been ren- dered as follows: 'In the Name both of the Cross itself and of Him who was iixed thereon, pray for the soul of Catuoconus.' Certain lines of the character known as Ogham may also be discerned upon the sides or edges of this hoary monolith. Striking across the open fields, with the tall white lighthouse for our guide, we turn aside to visit an old farmstead that contains the scanty ruins of Calde}' Priory. This venerable foundation owes its origin to Robert, son of Martin de Turribus, and was annexed as a cell to the abbey of St. Dogmaels, near Cardigan. A wise old saw which observes ' There is nothing new but what has been forgotten,' may find a verification amidst such neglected nooks as these ; whose long-forgotten relics of a bygone age greet the wayfarer with all the charm of novelty. Above the adjacent farmyard pre- mises rises the quaint little weather- beaten tower of the old priory chapel ; its slender spire leaning perilously awry, its stonework fast crumbling to decay. From the summit of the tower hangs the crazy bell, with rusty chain and silent clapper. One daintily-fashioned window is roughly blocked with brickwork, another gives entrance to a pigeon-cot. Within the adjoining house we are shown a fine old vaulted kitchen, with deep-browed windows, and rude stone settle along the wall. Thence we penetrate to a cool, dark chamber exhibiting traces of a grace- CALDEV ISLAND. 21 fully proportioned window enclosed by a pointed arch, long since blocked up. Retracing our steps beneath hedges of flowering fuchsia, we return by breezy, fern-clad commons and well-tilled fields to the landing-place; where an amphibious-looking individual is laying out lobster-pots among the weed-strewn rocks. Caldey has ever been famed for the excellence of its oyster fisheries ; not to speak of the crabs and lobsters caught around its rocky shores, which are commended by an Elizabethan writer who appears to have been an authority on such matters. ' The Lapster,' says this enthusiast, ' sett whole on the table, yieldeth Exercise, Sustenance and Contempla- tion ; exercise in cracking his legs and Clawes, sustenance by eating the Meate thereof, and contemplation by beholding the curious Work of his complete Armour, both in hue and workmanship.' ' And the Crabbe,' continues the same writer, ' doth sensiblye feele the Course of the Moone ; fillinge and emptyeing yt selfe with the encrease and decrease thereof, and therefore ys saied to be best at the full Moone.' Once more afloat, we are speedily wafted past the cave-pierced cliffs of St. Margaret's Isle, and across the placid waters of Caldey Sound. Running beneath the fortress-crowned St. Catherine's Rock, we round the Castle Hill and disembark in Tenby's sheltered haven. Though our rambles about its old streets have by no means exhausted the curious nooks of Tenby, yet we have all broad Pembrokeshire lying as it were at our doors, and waiting only for an ' open sesame ' to disclose its most interesting features. By far the larger number of these lie within a measurable distance of Tenby, whence access is easily obtained to them by road, rail, or boat. More- over, by taking counsel with the local time-table, the visitor may fare forth upon his way at a conscionable hour of the morning and be back again at Tenby ere nightfall supervenes. The curious old chest figured at the foot of this chapter formed the ancient treasury of Tenb}-. It is enriched with sixteenth-century German ironwork of very quaint design — witness the ladies pulling the 22 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. elephants' ' noses,'— and has seven bolts and two padlocks. The keys of these latter were held by the two town bailiffs, while the Mayor was responsible for those of the main lock and of the tiller inside. After having been sold as old iron some five-and-thirty years ago, this in- teresting relic was rescued by a Tenby resident, through whose courtesy we are enabled to show the accompanying sketch. y'r^>-v.. #>*-''^ '-^S^^^ i*^ ' .tei — ~.....:v: ^.,*,w*«J«»"'«l! .v«iw.mi^^'. peculiar to this locahty. -^^v- ^Ja An unusual effect is produced ' ='^-- - by the low, simple arch — scarce more than 5 feet wide — between the chancel and the nave, which has a shallow, pointed recess on either side of it, doubtless designed to hold figures. In one of these latter we observe the primitive-looking pewter flagon and paten which serve the purpose of church plate. Alongside them stands a queer little cracked handbell of bronze-green, rust-eaten :6 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. metal ; this is the Sanctus-bcU which, in pre-Reformation days, was rung in the church upon the elevation of the Host, and was carried at the head of funeral processions. Ancnt its present damaged condition the story goes that, during some solemn rite of exorcism with bell, book and candle, a certain fallen potentate suddenly appeared in a flash of brimstone flame, and broke the bell in impotent revenge. Passing through the chancel, we now enter a quaint little side-chapel with pretty two-light window and 1 .ow, groined ceiling whose stony ribs look strong enough to carry a tower. The latter, however, is on the other side of the church, and is probably of later date ; it is built in several stages, the one below the bell- chamber having pigeon- holes around inside the walls ; while overhead hangs an ancient bell inscribed s.\NCTA maria ORA PRO NOBIS. Hard by the church upon its southern side a flight of worn, stone steps leads down to three clear springs, which well up side by side m a mossy dell, and ripple away beneath lush grasses and flowering marsh plants. These wells, although in such close proximity, have been found to differ in their medicinal properties ; and were resorted to as a cure for ' all the ills that flesh is heir to ' by the simple folk of a bygone generation. Near at hand is the site of an old cockpit. In days of yore this exhilarating sport was very popular with Pembrokeshire men, who usually chose Easter Monday and such-like 'times of jollitie " to indulge in their favourite pastime. ((FiilURCfl ELATE, AT ST. FLORENCE. 27 At the corner of the churchyard stands an old deserted cottage which, after many vicissitudes, has fallen upon degenerate days. Origi- nally the rectory, and then the poor-house of the parish, it is now a neglected ruin half hidden amidst a tangle of shrubs and climbing plants. Most visitors to Gumfreston will notice the fine old farmhouse that rises cheek-by-jowl with the carriage-road from Tenby. If we are to believe the tradition of the coimtryside, this is the most ancient abode in the county. Be that as it may, the place bears traces of no mean antiquity ; and is an excellent specimen of a Pembrokeshire homestead of the olden times. Out from the main structure projects a mighty porch, running up the full height of the house, and pierced with round holes by way of windows above the main doorway. Penetrating into the interior, we enter a low-browed kitchen with open raftered ceiling and roomy settle beside the cavernous fireplace; its solid old timbers worn to a fine polish by generations of rustic shoulders. A bright wood-fire burns on the open hearth, and over it a big black kettle swings in the hollow of the chimney. The chimney stacks cropping boldly out, haphazard as it were, lean independently this way or that in the quaintest way imagin- able ; and the broad gable ends are pierced with many pigeon-holes. The place is built as though intended to last for all time, and is enveloped in the customary coating of weather-stained whitewash. We now push merrily on beneath a cloudless sky ; meeting an exhilarating sea-breeze as the road mounts upwards. Luxuriant hedge- rows (a rare sight hereabouts) presently give place to open downland, affording widespreading views across rich, rolling woodlands cropped close by the strong salt breezes. Upon the broad slopes of the Ridge- way groups of white farm-buildings sparkle amidst ruddy ploughfields ; while far beyond them are Caldey Island and the pale blue line of the sea. Once more a pleasant fieldpath beguiles our errant footsteps. Leading across an open common, it presently drops into a narrow by- lane, which winds among hazel copses and undergrowth beside the 28 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. marshy course of the Ritec, where cattle are browsing leisurely, half hidden amidst lusty water-plants. Anon our lane degenerates into a hollow watercourse fringed with the greenest of mosses and wineglass ferns ; insomuch that, like Agag, we are compelled to walk delicately across the rough stepping-stones that here do duty as a footpath ; while the hedgerows fairly meet over- head in a tangle of wild roses, hawthorn and fragrant honeysuckle. Emerging all too soon upon the dusty highway, we approach the pretty village of St. Florence. Being by this time not a little ' sharp set,' we enter a modest wayside inn, and proceed to whet our appetites upon the rations that the gutc verstiindige Haiisfrau soon sets before us. Let us unfold our simple bill of fare : New-laid eggs galore ; a mighty loaf of likely-looking bread, sweet from the clean wood oven; and a draught of the ' cup that ' — in moderation — ' cheers, but not in- ebriates.' In one corner of the low-ceiled room, the glass panels of an old- fashioned cupboard reveal a heterogeneous collection of rustic crockery- ware. The narrow mantel-board is adorned with a curious centrepiece, representing Wesley preaching to a sham china clock. This chef d'auvre is supported on either hand by china figures, rather the worse for wear, riding to market upon a pillion ; of which the rickety mirror behind renders a dull and distorted replica. From the opposite wall the bucolic face of a former proprietor stares stonily out upon us, as he grasps his doll-like daughter's arm after the manner of a pump-handle : this interesting group being flanked by the inevitable memorial cards to lost ones long since ' buried.' Meanwhile, as we ply the peaceful calumet, mine hostess tells of quaint old customs that, until only the other day, survived in this quiet countryside. ' I mind the time,' says she, 'when I was a girl, when there used to be a Vanity Fair in the village every Michaelmas tide. It lasted three whole days, and the men and maids would turn out in their best then, and all the housen must be smartened up and put in order ; and Squire, he give every working man in the place a bran-new suit of clothes to his back. Ah, there was fine doings then, and I've CARSIVALL. 29 a-hard tell that they'd used to run a keg of spirits, or what not, frcjui the big cellars down Tenby way. But that was afore my time.' A stroll around the village reveals some picturesque corners here and there ; a few of the older cottages retaining the vast rounded chimneys, bulging ovens and pointed doorways of an earlier age. The church, too, contains attractive features. A peep into the little edifice reveals a curious vaulted interior, with its queer ' squint ' passage set askew, and flat limestone arches of peculiar form on either side of the chancel. The honours of the place are done by a garrulous old dame, whose russet-apple complexion, set amidst well-starched frills above a home- spun ' whittle,' shows how well she has weathered her fourscore hard- working winters. Upon the gable wall outside, we notice a memorial slab commemo- rating a venerable couple who attained the mellow ages of 102 and 104, respectively ; and a singular epitaph on Archdeacon Rudd : while the broken shaft of an ancient cross rises amidst the well-tended monuments of this flowery God's acre. On our return to Tenby we pass a ruined water-mill, standing in a wooded dingle beside a reed-grown stream. Lanes and fieldpaths lead us down the valley of the Ritec, beside a group of tumbled houses whose massive, ivy-wreathed walls, with their narrow loopholed windows, may possibly guard those big cellars of which we have lately ' a-hard tell.' Thence through a hollow dingle, where golden Fritillary butterflies float to and fro in the dappled sunlight ; and where the fast-disappear- ing badger may still at times be met with. Anon we diverge to Cars- wall, to examine a group of remarkable stone buildings with vaulted chambers, huge fireplaces and bulging chimneys — puzzling objects to the archaeologist. From Carswall we strike across upland pastures, where a farm lad is ' tickling ' the ruddy soil with a primitive kind of harrow, composed of a bundle of brushwood drawn behind a horse. Erelong we turn aside to explore the recesses of Hoyle's Mouth ; a vast cavern worn deep in the solid limestone of the Ridgeway, and fringed with fantastic stalactites resembling gigantic icicles. Relics of 30 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. remote antiquit}-, discovered here, prove that the cavern has been a place of refuge in times beyond tradition ; and a local fable affirms that it is connected with that ' mervellows caverne,' yclept the Wogan, far away beneath the Castle of Pembroke ! Half a mile hence, in a nook of the hill, stands the old farmhouse of Trefloyne ; erstwhile the abode of a loyal family who, during Civil War times, paid the penalty of their constancy by being hunted forth by the Parliamentary soldiers ; while their home was delivered over to destruction. Another half-hour's walk takes us back to Tenby by way of Wind- pipe Lane ; where a marble tablet by the roadside marks the site of St. John's Well, for many generations the sole water supply of the in- habitants. ' One thinge,' says Leland, ' is to be merveled at ; there is no Welle yn the Towne, yt is said ; whereby they be forced to fesh theyre Water from Saint Johns without ye Towne.' Nowadays, how- ever, they have changed all that ; and have provided a water supply more suited to modern requirements. In the early days of the century, considerable ruins of the ancient Hospital of St. John still existed near this spot; of which, however, every trace has since been quite obliterated. Another pleasant excursion from Tenby takes the visitor past the little secluded creek of \^'aterwinch ; giving him, en route, a charming glimpse of the town, rising above the wooded shores of the north bay. Thence a steep, narrow lane leads to the village of Saundersfoot, a favourite seaside resort with a diminutive harbour, an hotel and groups of lodging-houses. The whole of this district has been, at some remote geological period, one vast forest, of which traces still exist upon the adjacent coast ; where submerged trees, and balks of timber encrusted with shells, are occasionally found. Tall chimney-shafts, rising amidst the woods, attest the presence of anthracite coal beneath our feet ; this is raised from several mines in the neighbourhood, and sent down by tramway to Saundersfoot for exportation. Pursuing a delightfully shady road that winds inland past the PENALLY. 31 grounds of Hean Castle, we soon find ourselves amidst some of the loveliest sylvan scenery in all the countryside. Presently we get a peep at the church of St. Issels, almost lost to view amidst green aisles of embowering foliage. As at Gumfreston, by footpaths only can the little edifice be ap- proached ; while the stepping-stones across the rivulet are supplemented by a rustic foot-bridge, for use in times when the stream is in flood. This church has lately been restored by some appreciative hand ; it has the characteristic tall gray tower such as we have grown accustomed to in this locality, and contains a handsome font of respectable antiquit}'. Hence the wayfarer may return to Tenby by way of IJonville's Court, a fortified manor-house of the Edwardian period, of which but a single dilapidated tower and stair-turret remain : or by fetching a compass round, and wandering through quiet lanes draped with harts- tongue fern, ivy and convolvulus, he may explore the country away towards Jeffreyston or Redberth ; returning over high ground beside the finely-timbered estate of Ivy Tower: and so home by the previously mentioned route through Gumfreston village. Nestling in a sunny nook where the Ridgeway meets the sea, the little village of Penally, peeping coyly out from amidst embowering trees, forms a pretty feature in many a local prospect. The road, winding inland, leads us by a long causeway across a broad tract of marshland, now golden with iris and kingcups, through which the Ritec stream meanders to the sea. It is said that, in ancient times, the tidal waters extended up this hollow vale as far as the village of St. Florence ; and there is an old map at Tenby in which a \-cssel in full sail floats upon the very spot where we now stand. Thence up we climb again across the foot-hills of the Ridgeway, until ere long the first cottages of Penally ' heave in sight," bowered in roses, clematis and honeysuckle, and set amidst gardens aglow with gladiolus, peonies, tulips, geraniums, fuchsias and Japan lilies. Was 5 32 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. it not Washington Irving who remarked that we Enghsh had. in our country gardens, 'caught the coy and furtive graces of Nature, and spread them, hke witchery, around these rural abodes ' ? Before us lies a stretch of open greensward, shaded by groups of oak and hawthorn, whence rises the gray tower of the parish church ; a building which has been restored to a semblance of newness that belies its venerable traditions. The interior has a pair of the now familiar ' squint ' passages, a k ^^ WW ■' I' . Is''- ^C**».T •• ' rfW' ^'^'>*f^''''w '? \<^:j few old tombs and a good stone font : and, mirabile dicta, is provided with the electric light. For this valuable innovation the village is indebted to Clement Williams, Esq., Mayor of Tenby, whose pretty countr}' residence stands just above the church. Beneath the over- shadowing trees in the churchyard stands a finely carved early Celtic cross, similar to those found in Ireland : of which we shall see an even handsomer specim.en when visiting Carew. In former days Penall}- was held in high veneration, from a tradi- L 1 DSTEP. 33 tion that the miracle-workinp; bones of St. Tcilo, Bishop of Llandaff, rested here during their progress through the district. A curious incident occurred here many years ago. During a fox- hunt in the vicinity, Reynard, being hard pressed by the hounds, sought refuge upon the roofs of some old farm buildings near the church. Here he led his pursuers a lively chase, but was eventually brought to earth and captured after an unusually exciting run. We now push on for the wild scenery of the rocky coast overlook- ing Caldey Sound ; pursuing a rough, sandy track amidst stretches of golden gorse. The springy turf underfoot is literally tapestried with wild thyme, herb-Robert and thrift ; over which butterflies, brown and azure- blue, float to and fro in the warm, still air ; while from the radiant sky the lark's bright song falls pleasantly upon our ears. Hereabouts one must needs keep one's ' weather eye ' open, to elude a tumble among the countless rabbit-holes that form pitfalls on every hand, whence the startled denizens scamper briskly to cover from beneath our very noses. Presently we approach the secluded haven of Lydstep, and obtain a glimpse of the noble headland called Proud Giltar, whose red-brown cliffs rise sheer from the blue waves, with Caldey Island lying in the middle distance. Traversing the pebbly beach, we pass near to Lydstep Point, a picturesque headland curiously scarped by disused limestone quarries. We now strike inland beneath a grove of trees growing in a sheltered corner, and ascend a narrow lane to a lonely cottage at the head of the glen. Hence we plunge down a deep, rocky ravine, whose seaward face is honeycombed with the caverns for which the place is famous. Before us, league upon league, an ocean of purest blue spreads to the remote horizon ; its sunns- plain shimmering beneath white summer cloudlets, and empurpled by a thousand transient shadows. Huge rocks crop out on every hand from amidst the tangle of luxuriant under- growth that conceals the entrance to the Smugglers' Cave, a name we leave to tell its own wild tale of bygone times. Onward we scramble. 34 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. down to the ' beached inargent ' of the shallow bay ; whence a scene of rare beauty is beheld. From the unsullied strand vast buttresses and pinnacles of lichen- clad limestone rise sheer and inaccessible ; their solid ribs pierced with shadowy caverns wide as a cathedral vault and dark as Erebus, which tempt the wanderer to explore their deep, unknown recesses. Crystal- clear pools, fringed with dainty seaweeds and gemmed with starfish and sea-anemones, nestle in every hollow of the rocky shore ; while shells of various tints encrust the untrodden sands. Countless sea-birds wheel to and fro in the shadow of the cliffs, which echo their discordant cries as they clamour above the heads of the unwelcome intruders. Dusky cormorants scud with necks outstretched athwart the sparkling waves, while kittiwakes and guillemots crowd shoulder to shoulder upon the inaccessible ledges. An hour is pleasantly spent groping amidst the hollows of a re- sounding cavern, or peering into the jewelled depths of some rocky sea-pool ; or, anon, watching the plash of the translucent waves. At lengthy hungry as hawks, we beat a retreat to a sheltered nook amongst the rocks, to discuss con gusto our al-fresco lunch. Fascinated by these entrancing prospects, we linger in this wonder- land until the advancing tide hints at a speedy departure, when, scrambling once again to the upper world, we strike away for the solitary hamlet of Lydstep. Hard by the road stand two scattered groups of dilapidated build- ings, sometimes called by the imposing titles of the Palace, and the Place of Arms. In the good old times — so runs the legend — Aircol Llawhir, King of Dyfed, held his royal Court at this place. Be that as it may, the existing structures are probably not older than the fourteenth centur\-, and ma}- be ascribed to those yeomen proprietors, a ' peg ' above the common farmer folk, who erected these stout walls to safeguard their goods and chattels. The return journey lies along a pleasant, open road between the Ridgeway and the cliffs ; affording lovely glimpses of the rugged coastline and the land-locked sea. At Penally a return train puts in a timely THE RIDCEWAY. 35 appearance, and conveys us in a few minutes back to quarters, while the decHning sun sets the world aflame in the glow of its lingering rays. There is a spring-like feeling in the crisp morning air as we drive leisurely along the Ridgeway road, bound westward ho ! to 'fresh woods and pastures new.' Fairy cobwebs, gemmed with glistening dewdrops, sparkle in every hedgerow as we mount slowly up the steep, ruddy flank of the Ridgeway. Bowling merrily along the smooth, well-kept road that traverses its breezy summit, we are in all probability following the course of some primitive trackway, used from the earliest times when enemies lurked in the lowlands. Ever wider grows the outlook as we jaunt along ; the glory of the scene culminating as we clamber up the last of these steep ' pinches,' and call a halt, near a farm called the Rising Sun, to scan the summer landscape spread around. Close at hand broad meadows, green with the promise of spring, spread away down a winding valley tufted with shadowy woodlands, whence gray old steeples peep above the clustering cottage roofs. Far away amidst the folding hills, the walls and towers of lordly Carew rise near a silvery sheet of water — an arm of Milford Haven — backed by leagues of unexplored country, o'ertopped by the faint blue line of the Precelly Mountains — a glorious scene indeed ! 'Ah 1 world unknown I how charminj^ is thy view, Thy Pleasures many, and each pleasure new !' Turning across the lane, we lean upon a neighbouring gate, and leisurely scan the fair prospect over land and sea. Yonder the snow- white cottages gleam amidst the ruddy ploughlands. Seawards, the gorse- clad downs plunge in warm red sandstone cliffs to the all-encircling ocean, that stretches in unbroken span from St. Govan's Head, past Caldey Isle, to the gray-blue line of distant Devon, with Lundy lying under its lee. Forward again, betwixt pleasant greenswards tangled with fragrant 3fi NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. gorse, brambles and unfurling bracken, within whose cool retreats the yellow-hammer lurks in his new spring bravery ; while smart little goldfinches hunt in pairs amidst the thistle-heads under the hedgerow. Gradually we slant away downwards, passing an ancient tunmlus whence, in the old . war times, a beacon fire gave warning against threatened invasion ; and catching glimpses ahead of ruined towers and curtain -walls, where time-honoured old Pembroke nods over its memories of ' the days that are no more.' Soon we are clattering through the diminutive village of Lamphey. Here we dismiss our driver, and, turning across park-like meadows where cattle are grazing under the broad-limbed oaks, we soon descr}- the ivy-mantled ruins of Lamphey Palace. The graceful character of the architecture, and calm, reposeful situation in this peaceful dell, combine to enhance the peculiar charm that hangs around these venerable ruins. Thanks to the timely care of their present owner, the remaining portions have been preserved from further desecration, and are freely shown to visitors who pass this way. At Lamphey the Bishops of St. Davids possessed an episcopal manor, and built themselves a palace there ; so that, from the middle of the thirteenth century, they paid frequent visits to the place. With- drawing hither from affairs of State, they assumed the vvlc of the paternal country squire ; tilling the fat acres spread around their walls, and stocking their snug granaries, such as may still be traced at the farmstead called Lamphey Park. John Leland, travelling this way in his tour through South Wales, tells how he 'came by meane Hills and Dales to Llanfeith, where the Bishop of St. Davids hath a place of Stoone, after Castel Fascion.' Strolling through a ripe old garden, set round with sheltering walls, we proceed to trace such features of the fine old fabric as the hand of Time has spared to us. Passing the refectory, a picturesque building draped in iv}- and Virginia-creeper, we are confronted by the tall mass fl"'^^ -^.Y'W^-- LAMP HEY. yi of the banqueting-hall, with its pointed windows and pretty projecting chimney. Hence a winding stair in the thickness of the wall leads to the ruined parapet. Near the east end of the hall stands the chapel, roofless now, and wreathed in luxuriant ivy ; one graceful traceried window alone bearing witness to Bishop Vaughan's artistic genius. Farther away across a verdant meadow, and standing, so to speak, en echelon to the main fabric, rise the ruins of the domestic apartments ; approached by a dilapidated flight of outside steps, and crowned with an elegant open arcade such as is usually associated with the work of that famous builder, Bishop Gower. In a corner of the adjacent field we observe the vivarium, or fish-pond of the priory. We now return to the neighbouring gardens, in order to sketch the picturesque little tower which stands isolated amidst trim walks and old-fashioned flower-beds. It is difficult to assign a rahon d'etre for the existence of this quaint old structure. By some folks it has been called the gate-tower to the inner ward; but others, again, have styled it the priests' dwelling- place; and our investigations seem to point to some such use as the latter. A stone stairway, hollowed in the thickness of the wall, leads to an upper chamber, which contains a niche (suggestive of a piscina), a fire- place, and several small windows. The peaked roof, which is modern, is surrounded by open, pointed arches corbelled out from the wall below, and finished with plain battlements. Thus, with its picturesque medley of weather-stained brick, stone and timber, touched here and there with green moss and golden lichens, this curious tower proves an attractive bit for the sketch-book. At Lamphey Palace Robert Devereux, the ill-fated Earl of Essex, spent several years of his youth ; and is reputed to have quitted the place ' the most finished gentleman of his time.' Superstitious folk, when approachmg these ruins after nightfall, while 'the moping owl doth to the moon complain,' may (or may not) have their nerves agreeably thrilled by the apparition of a mysterious white 6 38 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. lady, presumabh' a Devereux, who is said to iiaunt these historic shades at that witching hour ! Lamphey Chtirch, whicli Hes a short half-mile away, has been too much modernized to detain us long. The tall, plain tower has been THECMAWCEI, M00GEsroM Cnvmcif preserved, however, in its original simplicity ; and the large square font, of early type, has a little ornamentation of good character. Crossing the railway bridge past the shop of the village, with its alluring display of miscellaneous oUa podrida in the window, we pursue our shadows along a dusty countr\- road; cutting off a circuitous HODGESTON. 39 corner by taking to a pleasant fieldpath. A brij^'ht little country maid pioneers us hence into Hodgeston, a sleepy hamlet consisting of some half-dozen whitewashed cottages clustering around the sorry remnants of a village green, now shrunk to half its old proportions owing to recent encroachments. Obtaining the key at one of these cottages, we now make straiglit for the parish church, which rises beyond a grove of trees, less than a bowshot away. Seen from the outside, this little edifice looks unostentatious enough, with its slender western tower, chancel, and nave devoid of the usual excrescences ; but upon entering we soon find matter to arouse our keenest interest. The nave is simple, though well proportioned ; setting off to fullest advantage the rich and elaborate features that adorn the Decorated chancel. Good traceried windows rise upon either hand, surmounted by an open timber roof, \\itli the pretty ball-flower ornament running around the top of the wall. Upon the south side of the chancel stands a handsome triple sedilia; its shapely, richly-moulded arches aflame with elaborate crockets, which cluster upwards to the large, florid finials. A plain stone bench flanks the lower part of the wall, whence projects a flight of steps that gave access to the vanished rood-loft. We also notice a dainty piscina sunk in the thickness of the wall, having a beautiful ornamental canopy, closely resembling that of the sedilia, and a fine old Norman font. One cannot but feel surprise that such rich design and delicate workmanship should be thus hidden away in this remote locality ; and can only hazard the conjecture that the influence of Bishop Gower (whose handiwork is seen to such advantage in his great palace at St. Davids) must have made itself felt even in outlying parishes such as this. There is reason to suppose, too, that a religious house existed at Hodgeston in olden times, which would probably exert a refining influence upon the local craftsmen, for the monks of old were often goodly builders. These charming features, then, provide attracti\c matter lor the 40 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. sketch-book, which keeps us pef;;ging a\va\- until well on towards sun- down : so that, as we wend our way back to Lamphey Station, we lounge over a stile formed from some broken ship's timbers to enjoy the exquisite after-glow, which lingers still above the falling dusk as the train carries us homeward to Tenby. ^mie'ehtt iQiiyfE^j;^ ^r n^w m'm. CHAPTER III. MANORBERE CASTLE : AND GIRALDUS CAMBRENSIS. THE courtesy of a hospitable friend, we now shift our moor- infi;s from Tenby's tourist- haunted streets, to the quiet precincts of Manorbere Castle. Within those time-honoured walls the charm of modern hospitality is enhanced by contrast with its mediaeval background. Quitting the train at the little wayside station, a quarter of an hour's pleasant drive through deep lanes fringed with hartstongue fern, and gay with ' floureis white and blewe, yellow and rede,' gives us our first glimpse of the stately old pile. Crowning a low, isolated hill, the castle stands out ' four square to all the winds of heaven ' against a silvery expanse of the distant ocean ; for, as old Leland says : ' This place is not in the Hyeway, but standith neere the shore of the Severn Se.' A country lad opens a gate giving access to a rough meadow, flanked by the remains of barbican walls and ruined bastions ; traversing which we presently draw rein before the broad, landward front of the castle. Crossing the grim but inoffensive drawbridge, our friend explains the ingenious device by which, in the ' good old times,' an intruder must perforce ' turn turtle ' upon a sort of human beetle-trap. Overhead are seen the openings whence the garrison might pour down ' something lingering and humorous, with molten lead in it,' by w^ay of warm welcome to the foe. Passing beneath the iv_\-niantlcd gate-tower, we emerge upon the spacious greensward of the inner court, which is enclosed on every hand 42 NOOAS AND COJ^NE/iS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. by hoary walls and turrets, whose weather-beaten ruins tell of heavy treatment at the hand of Father Time. For it is a notable fact in the history of Manorbere Castle, and one to which we are indebted for its relative state of preservation, that, unlike its great neighbours of Pembroke and Carew, it has never with- stood a siege. Moreover, having ceased to be inhabited at a very early period, this castle has preserved unaltered the salient features of its construction. The architecture is very simple and massive, being indeed almost entirely devoid of ornament. Some of the apartments retain the plain, pointed stone vault, devoid of ribs, so frequently met r"S#V?.. with in South Wallian castles ; while several of those circular chimneys, peculiar to the locality, rise above the crumbling battlements. Continuing our stroll around the inner court we observe, hard by the great gateway, the warders' room, with its narrow window com- manding the entrance. Behind it rises the huge, circular ' Bull ' Tower ; a massive structure honeycombed with quaint little chambers ap- proached by a winding stone stair, and connected with the gate-tower by a narrow passage in the thickness of the walls. Along the eastern side of the court extends a long range of apartments, which constitute the modern residence. These were resuscitated by Mr. J. R. Cobb, a MANORnERE. 43 former occupant, who restored the castle in so admirable and conscien- tious a manner, that the modern additions in no wise detract from their venerable surroundinf^s. Farther away in the same direction lie the ruined kitchens, with their huge projecting chimneys, and ovens of such CAi'Tt.g capacity that, as tradition avers, the lord of the domain was wont to regale his guests upon oxen roasted whole ! Traversing the sunny castle-garth, we pass a circular receptacle formed in the ground for melting the lead aforesaid. Close at hand is a deep draw-well, half full of water. Some twenty feet down this well is a blocked-up archway which was opened years ago by old ' Billy,' 7 44 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. the local factotum, who discovered dark, subterranean passages running hence beneath the adjacent ruins. Here he stumbled against casks and kegs left behind by the smuggler folk, who in former days carried on their illicit traffic around the neighbouring coast. At the same time, as a ' blind ' for the Excise officers, they carried on a traffic in grain, which was stored for the purpose in large barns outside the castle. At the farther end of the courtyard rise the picturesque walls and arches of a lofty group of buildings, containing the banqueting-hall and chapel. This appears to have been the handsomest part of the castle ; and the great hall, with its broad flight of stone steps and stately range of pointed windows overlooking the sea, must indeed have been a noble apartment. Beneath it, in grim contrast, lurks a series of dark, windowless dungeons. Entering the chapel by a flight of ruinous steps fringed with sprays of spleen wort fern, we explore its dimly-lighted recesses, and discern traces of half obliterated colour decoration. Clambering by a narrow stone stairway to the grass-grown roof, W'e awaken the resentful clamour of a colony of jackdaws ; anon we peer into the tiny chamber for the priest, and dive into the gloomy crypt, w^ith its low-vaulted roof and fireplace improvised from a desecrated tomb. Then out once more into the castle garth, to follow the loopholed wall. This terminates in the many-sided Pembroke Tower, which, bowered in climbing plants, boasts a certain diminutive chamber wherein, as the local tradition runs, Giraldus Cambrensis, the famous Welsh historian, was born. Thence ensues another stretch of lofty wall, backed by a series of curious flying buttresses : and our peregrina- tion is completed beneath the hoary, lichen-clad stonework of the great tower beside the entrance gateway. This is the oldest part of the castle, and (with apologies to the local tradition) probably the only portion of it that dates as far back as the days of the worthy Giraldus. The water-gate, set deep in the seaward wall, is flanked by a huge mass of stonework which still bears traces of the smugglers' ineffectual efforts to dislodge it. Following a rough track that winds down the rocky slope, we stroll onward beside a pretty rill of water meandering. #r^K ¥4a%- ^'-M-h- ^^^ l\^\\M MANORBERE. 4; amidst bullrushes and marsh marigolds, to the moss-grown wheel of the castle mill. Here we linger upon the rustic footbridge to enjoy a charm- ing retrospect. The gray walls of the grim old castle, crowning the low, steep hill we have just descended, are reflected in the placid stream at our feet. A group of low-roofed cottages, and the mill with its plashing wheel, nestle in the valley beneath ; while the towers and gables of the quaint old parish church peep from a rival hill that fronts the sea. The western flank of the castle looks down upon a weed-grown marsh, occupying the site of a lake that formerly protected it upon that side. Beside the marsh stands a picturesque old stone pigeon-house, smothered in ivy and golden lichens ; beyond which extends a secluded vale shaded by oak, ash and holly, that formed part of the ancient park or chase of Manorbere. The whole scene has a quiet beaut}- of its own very pleasant to contemplate. Meanwhile, after tackling this fascinating bit, we roam across the wind-blown sandhills, where a derelict boat, lying high and dry above high-water mark, offers a convenient resting-place for the noontide siesta. Stretching our limbs upon the warm, dry sand, and gazing dreamily across the deep-blue line of the bay, we call to mind a certain glowing description of the Manorbere of seven long centuries ago. Gerald de Barri, the author of this panegyric (better known as Giraldus Cambrensis), can scarce find words to express his admiration for the home of his boyhood. ' The castle called Maenor Pyrr,' says Gerald, ' is excellently de- fended by towers and outworks, and is situated on the summit of a hill extending on the western side towards the seaport ; having on the northern and southern sides a fine fish-pond under the walls, as con- spicuous for its grand appearance as for the depth of its water ; and a beautiful orchard on the same side enclosed on one part by a vineyard, and on the other by a wood remarkable for the projection of its rocks and the height of its hazel-trees. To the right of the promontory, between the castle and the church, near the site of a very large lake and mill, a rivulet of never-failing water flows through a valley rendered sandy by the violence of the winds." 46 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. The same enthusiastic writer also portrays for us the main features of the circumjacent country: ' Towards the west the Severn Sea, bend- ing its course to Ireland, enters a hollow bay at some distance from the castle ; and the southern rocks, if more extended towards the north, would render it an admirable harbour for shipping. From this point you may see almost all the ships from greater Britain, which the east wind drives towards Ireland. The land is well supplied with corn, sea- fish and wines, purchased abroad ; and — what is of more importance — from its neighbourhood to Ireland it enjoys a mild climate. ' Dimetia therefore, with its seven cantrefs, is the most beautiful, as well as the most powerful district in Wales ; Pembroch the finest part of the province of Dimetia ; and the place I have just described the most beautiful part of Pembroch. It is evident, therefore, that Maenor Pyrr is the Paradise of all Wales !' Born at Manorbere Castle in the year 1146, Gerald de Barri was the youngest son of William de Barri, Lord of Manorbere ; grandson of Gerald de Windsor, Governor of Pembroke Castle ; and nephew of David Fitz-Gerald, Bishop of St. Davids, from whom he received his early education ; while upon the maternal side Gerald was descended from Rhys ap Tydwr, one of the princes of Wales. The career of one thus born, so to speak, in the purple, was from the outset pretty well assured. Thus we find the worthy Gerald promoted from the living of Tenby to a fat canonry at Hereford Cathedral ; and presently the snug archdeaconry of St. Davids falls to his lot. About this time, Gerald joined with Archbishop Baldwin to preach the Crusade throughout South Wales; when he kept a diary of his proceedings which has proved of no little entertainment to after- comers. During his long and eventful career Gerald de Barri paid three several visits to Rome, in order to push his interests at headquarters. He accompanied Henry II. to France, and was entrusted by that monarch with the education of his promising son John, of Magna Charta fame. Upon the death of his uncle the Bishop, Gerald made strenuous efforts to obtain the coveted appointment of his native see, MANORDERE. 47 refusing all other preferments ; but, failing of success, he retired in dudgeon from active life, and spent the rest of his days in writing those literary ' remains ' that have afforded so much interest to antiquaries. Gerald de Barri appears to have been a man of studious tempera- ment. He became, as Lambarde quaintly puts it, ' wel learned and, as tyme served, eloquent.' He was, moreover, a great writer, and being much given to disputation, called together the literary elite of Oxford and read his own works to them. He ne.xt proceeded to feast his DE KARRI TOMB, MANORBERE. learned critics into a satisfactory state of good humour with tilings in general, and his own literary effusions in particular ; an event which he himself describes as ' a magnificent affair, a return of the Golden Age, an unparalleled event, in England at all events.' In person Gerald is portrayed as remarkably tall, his face being strongly marked by large, shaggy eyebrows ; and it has been well said that, in spite of certain undeniable defects of character, he was probably inspired with a genuine love for the land of his birth, and a desire 48 NOOAS AND CORXERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. to upraise therein an independent Kymric Church owning allegiance to the Bishop of St. Davids as its spiritual head. Gerald de Barri was gathered to his fathers, at a ripe old age, in the year 1220. He is reputed to have been buried in St. Davids Cathedral ; where at least one tomb is pointed out as the last resting-place of this great ecclesiastic. Little is recorded of the subsequent history of Manorbere Castle. The place appears to have been abandoned at an early period ; its hanging woods and vineyards were abandoned to decay, whilst its dismantled walls and subterranean vaults harboured bands of lawless freebooters, who haunted these coasts a century ago. Wild work went forward at Manorbere in those half-forgotten days. It is related how a certain famous smuggler, notorious for his desperate enterprises, eluded the vigilance of the revenue men by running his vessel ashore near the headland ycleped the Priest's Nose ; and conveying his illicit cargo, under cover of night, to the cellars with which the neighbourhood abounded. Rousing ourselves at length from these cogitations on the sand- hills, we put the best foot foremost and hie away past a spring of pure water known as the Druid's Well, to the sunny slopes of that selfsame Priest's Nose. Scrambling warily amidst brakes of prickly furze, we presently espy a mighty cromlech standing in a nook of the hill, beside the narrow path. A soft westerly breeze draws in 'gently, very gently from the sea,' as we perch beside this relic of the immemorial past ; waftmg the scent of wild thyme and gorse over warm, crisp turf that shimmers beneath the lusty summer sunshine. Hence unfolds yet another charm- ing view of the gray old castle, set amidst a breadth of feathery wood- land that clusters under the lee of the sheltering hill. A turn of the head reveals the varied line of coast stretching away, league upon league, past the groves of Stackpole to the bluff, perpendicular landfall of St. Govan's Head. Returning to quarters by another route we fetch a wide compass round; pursuing the path that hugs the shore, which, hereabouts, is indented by several fissures of very peculiar character. A short MANORBERE. 49 distance beyond the cromlech we encounter the first of these ; a chasm so narrow that a boy might leap across it, yet of imposing depth, with sides as smooth and perpendicular as any house wall, and floored with the seething ocean. A quarter of a mile farther on we strike a little way inland, to investigate a still more remarkable liims. natitrce of a similar kind. Here the insidious on- slaught of the waves has tunnelled beneath the in- tervening cliff, and pene- trated far into the land ; excavating a dark, narrow, and profound fissure in the perpendicular strata of the Old Red sand- stone ; so that, gazing sea- ward through the cleft, we can see the foaming surf sparkling in the sunlight upon the rocks beyond. Thence we extend our ramble to Castle Head, a rocky point jutting boldly out to sea, and scarped with the broad, fern-clad furrows of a prehistoric earthwork. This appears to have been the strong- hold of some invader from over seas ; for the protecting banks curve inland, and, sweeping down to the rocks on either hand, enclose the outer extremity of the headland. Secured thus against attack upon their land- ward flank, the occupants were protected in rear by the broad expanse of the ' inviolate ocean,' whose restless billows, surging far below, mingle their music in wild harmony with the harsh cries of countless sea -fowl. 8 50 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. Breasting the rough ascent, we now march across the upland meadows of Parson's Piece ; making in a ' bee-Hne ' for Manorbere Church, whose shm gray tower peers over an intervening bank. Perched high aloft upon a bleak hillside, across whose treeless heights ' breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind,' this venerable fabric rises in lonely isolation, and confronts in peaceful rivalry the towers and battlements of the grim old fortalice that crowns the opposite hill. For quaint picturesqueness, and the singular grouping of its various parts, this curious old church stands unrivalled, even in this land of remarkable churches, combining as it does almost every feature character- istic of such buildings throughout the locality. Originally in all proba- bility a cruciform structure, the church has apparently been added to at various times in a capricious fashion ; so that the exterior now presents the quaintest imaginable variety of walls, windows and gables : all jumbled together in seemingly haphazard fashion, and falling into fantastic groups, as may be seen from the adjoining sketch. It will be noticed that one of the gables is surmounted by the original bell-cot, which probably existed prior to the erection of the tower ; the latter rises above a medley of roofs upon the northern side of the chancel, and contains a bell inscribed with the legend : EXALTEMUS NOMEN DOMINI, 1639. Passing around to the south porch, we enter a low nave arched over with a slightly-pointed, stone-vaulted ceiling. Strange, low, rudely- fashioned arches, entirely disdaining the support of pillars, rise sheer from the level of the floor upon either hand, giving access to the narrow aisles behind. These arches are, unfortunately, so enveloped in the general coating of whitewash, that it is impossible now to discover whether they were originally built as arches, proper, or are merely open- ings cut through the walls when the aisles were added to the nave. A little window of early type opens above one of these arches ; the sole survivor of some old windows that existed previous to the building of the aisles. Short, tunnel-like transepts open out on either hand, the one towards the north having a low ceiling, crossed by the curious arched MANORBERE. 51 ribs seen in our sketch above. The gangway that formerly gave access to the rood-loft now leads, in a queer, tortuous course, from the north aisle across the adjacent transept to the tower, which is entered by a door high aloft in the wall. To the right a ' squint ' passage opens skew-wise into the chancel, where, beneath a plain arched recess, lies the recumbent stone effigy of a Crusader clad in chain mail, having his legs crossed at the knees and sword and shield, charged with the arms of De Barri, beside him. This monument commemorates one of the ancient lords of Manor- bere, who 'came over with the Conqueror,' and shared with Fitz- Hamon and his knights in the partition of these lands. The handsome traceried screen that stretches athwart the narrow chancel arch was erected about five-and-twenty years ago, when a vigorous effort was made to arrest the deplorable condition of ruin and decay, to which time and neglect had reduced this interesting church. A few ivy-mantled fragments of an ancient structure that formerly served as the parish school, are supposed to be the remains of a chantry founded by the De Barri who lies buried in the church. We now stroll leisurely homeward through the gloaming, while the slender young moon peers over the shoulder of a neighbouring hill. As we approach the castle, its shadowy front looms darklj' silhouetted upon a daffodil and emerald sky ; while the zenith is still suffused with translucent rosy light, and the pale stars peep one by one as the day- light slowly wanes. Now the little flittermice awake once more to life, and flicker to and fro with wavering flight ; while a colony of chatter- ing jackdaws discusses the day's events upon the ruined battlements. Yonder, like a thief of the night, a great white owl steals silently by, soft as a drift of thistledown, yet keen as fate to ' spot ' the errant mouse, roaming in search of a meal too far from home. Thus we recross the drawbridge to the hospitable abode, whose latticed windows emit a heartsome ray of light that seems a lode-star to the wayfarers. Pretty tired after our long day's ramble, we clamber up the corkscrew stair to a certain turret chamber, where, in next to no time, we lose ourselves in the drowsy arms of Morpheus. 52 NOOk'S AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. The busy man, hard pressed b_y the Sturm unci Drang of city Ufe, may find at Manorbere recreation in the truest sense ; and should he be blessed with a congenial hobby, he may entertain himself in this secluded spot to his heart's content. To the lover of Nature the place offers many attractions. In the course of rambles around the varied coastline, or amidst the hills and dales of the inland country, the wanderer with a turn that way may study the mellow lichen-clad rocks of the Old Red sandstone ; and will not fail to notice their well-defined junction at Skrinkle Haven with the limestone formation, which reappears across the Sound in the cave- worn crags of Calde)'. Or, again, he may note how the salmon-red ploughlands of the Ridgeway attest the presence of the older rocks, as they rise from the superincumbent stratum of the mountain limestone. These conditions afford, within a limited compass, a great diversity of soil and situation ; providing a congenial habitat to many varieties of ferns and wild-tlowers. The botanist will look for prizes amongst the rich pastures of the Vale of St. Florence, the woodland paths around St. Issells, and the lush marshlands of Penally ; while the sandy burrows of Tenby, Lydstep and Castle Martin, and even the crumbling ruins of some castle or ancient priory, will yield their tale of treasure for the vasculum. Indeed, wander whither he may, the lover of Nature will find a wealth of beauty on every hand. Let him clamber amidst the tumbled boulders, where the samphire thrives on the salt sea spray ; and explore the rock-pools left by the receding tide, whose weed-fringed depths are tenanted by plump sea-urchins, nestling sociably among zoophytes, sponges, and dehcate ' lady's-fingers.' Or he may choose to wander along the sands of Saundersfoot and Tenby, where haply he may light upon rare shells of many a dainty hue ; while queer little crabs scuttle hither and thither amidst the stranded starfish, and other derelict flotsam and jetsam left behind by the receding tide. And as the changing seasons cast their ever-varying charm upon land and sea, the artist in search of ' fresh woods and pastures new ' will find, in this unfrequented country, endless subjects ready to his MANORBERE. S3 hand worthy the brush of a Brett, or an Alfred Parsons. Perchance he will set up his easel where the ruddy sandstone cliffs, soaring in weather-stained crags above broad sweeps of untrodden sand, are crowned with a diadem of golden gorse ; while a breadth of sunlit sea stretching away to the horizon will serve as an excellent background. Or haply he may plant his white umbrella in some secluded nook, where a picturesque old cottage, with mighty, bulging chimney and moss-grown roofs, nestles beneath a group of wind-swept ash trees ; the softly folding landscape lines showing faintly beyond. Many a beauty-spot such as this gladdens the wayfarer as he roams through the by-ways of this pleasant land ; and the landscape- painter may easily ' go farther and fare worse,' than by spending a season in Pembrokeshire. CHAPTER IV. PEMBROKE TOWN AND CASTLE. STACKPOLE AND THE SOUTHERN COAST. YTjX If COURSE of time the Wanderlust returns in n fall force upon us ; so bidding farewell to our hospitable entertainers, we transfer ourselves bag and baggage to the county-town ; in order to explore from that convenient starting-point the remoter recess of South Pembrokeshire. The district locally known as the Stackpole Countr)- forms part of the hundred of Castle Martin, and is the southernmost land of the county. Lying apart from any town or railway, it is somewhat difficult of access ; but though boasting few striking features to attract the ordinary tourist, it yet offers no small attractions to the wanderer who can appreciate ' the pleasures of the quiet eye.' Threading our way at first amidst rather intricate lanes, we pass once more through Hodgeston village, whence our route is all plain sailing. Near Lamphey Church we fall into the main road, which runs in a bee-line beside softly-swelling hills, until the long street of Pem- broke is entered at its eastern end. The ' lie ' of this town has been not inaptly likened to the shape of a herring-bone ; the castle precincts occupying the head (whereof the great donjon answers to the eye), while the long main street, with its branching lanes and gardens, suggests the vertebral bone of the fish with its radial spines. Apropos of the situation of the town, we refer to our J'KMBROKE. 55 trusty Leland and read that ' Pembroch standith upon an armc df Milforde, the which, about a mile beyond the Towne, creketh in so that it almost peninsulateth the Towne, that standith on a veri main Rokki ground. The Towne is well waullid and hath iii gates by Est, West and North ; of which the Est gate is fairest and strongest, having afore it a compasid Tour not rofid in ; the entering whereof is a Port colys, ex solide ferro.' Neither gate nor ' compasid Tour ' now spans the prosaic-looking street ; and the houses in this eastern suburb have small pretensions to beauty. We catch a hasty glimpse, however, of the ' two paroche chirches ' discovered by our author : and entertain ourselves en route by trying to pronounce the curious, unfamiliar surnames such as Hopla, Treweeks, Malefant and Tyzard, emblazoned above the shop-fronts : while an occasional Godolphin, Pomeroy or Harcourt, attests the strain 9 56 jXOOA'S A.VD CO/^!^'£/^S OF /'KM BROKESH/R E. of sang-azure that lingers yet among the bourgeoisie of the ancient borough. Midway adown the High Street rises a mighty ehn, wliose spreading branches quite overshadow the adjacent dwelHngs. Presently we catch a glimpse of Pembroke Castle, beyond a pretty vista of old-fashioned structures whose quaint, irregular outlines stand sharply cut against the clear sky. The records of this great historic fortress would alone suffice to fill a bulky volume ; the best account of the earls, earldom and castle of Pembroke being, perhaps, that by G. T. Clark, Esq. ; and there is a detailed description of the building by the present proprietor, J. R. Cobb, Esq. We will not attempt, therefore, to give more than a slight outline of its past history. Pembroke Castle was originally built by Arnulph de Montgomery, in the reign of William Rufus ; and it was greatly enlarged and strengthened by Earl Strongbow, the invader of Ireland, who held it in the time of Henry I. A romantic story is related of his predecessor, the King's castellan, Gerald de Windsor, who espoused the beautiful but notorious Nesta. A certain \\'elsh chieftain, named Owen ap Cadwgan, beheld the famous beauty presiding one day with her ladies at a tournament (like the moon amidst her satellites) ; when, sighing like Alcestis for the Queen of night, the enamoured warrior determined to possess himself of his seductive charmer. Obtaining access to the castle at dead of night, Owen wrested his victim from the arms of her outraged lord, and carried her off to his stronghold among the mountains. Though a large reward was offered by the King to anyone who should capture or slay the outlawed man, it was eight long years before justice was vindicated, when Gerald, meeting his adversary, put an end to his career by an avenging arrow. But to return to history. William, Earl Mareschal of Pembroke, was honoured with a visit from that sorry monarch, King John. During the Edwardian period, the castle was enlarged and strengthened by the addition of the outer ward. In 1457 Henry Tudor, Earl of V : PEMBROKE CASTLE. 57 Richmond (afterwards Kiiij; Henry \'II.), was born at Pembroke Castle. Durint,' the Civil Wars the garrison made a gallant defence against a large force under Oliver Cromwell. One tragic episode that closed the eventful days of the siege may be mentioned here. Upon the fall of the castle the three leaders, Poyer, Mayor of the town, Powell, Governor of the castle, and Laugharne, the whilom Parliamentary Colonel, were expressly exempted from the pardon extended to the garrison. These three men were condemned to death : but Parliament in its clemency resolving to punish only one of them, they were directed by Croinwcll's orders to draw lots as to who should suffer the penalty. Two papers were inscribed ' Life given by God '; the third was a blank. A child drew the lots, when the blank fell to the ill-fated Poyer ; who was afterwards shot in the Piazza, Covent Garden, ' d\-ing very penitcnth/ as we are told. After the fortress was delivered into Crom- well's hands, it was so effectually dismantled that, to this day, the results of his destructive work are only too manifest. The ruins of Pembroke Castle still present, after the lapse of centuries of neglect and decay, a truly magnificent appearance. The massive towers and ivy-curtained walls crown a bold and rocky eminence, that rises abruptly from the tidal waters of Milford Haven ; sweeping around the landward face of the promontory, and enclosing a broad and spacious castle garth. In the centre rises the great donjon tower, which stands as an enduring memorial of William de la Grace, the great Earl Mareschal, who in all probability designed the main fabric of the castle as we see it to-day. An imposing coup d'ceil of the ruins may be obtained by turning down Dark Lane, crossing the old bridge that spans the stream hard beneath the castle, and entering a timber-yard close by. Promi- nent in the view is a lofty tower, mantled in glossy-green ivy and pierced with graceful pointed windows, that soars from the river brink,, enclosing, deep below its foundations, that ' mervelous vault called the Hogan,' whence the garrison in olden times drew their supplies of water. 58 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEiUnROk'KSHIRE Beside the tower extends a long stretch of ivy-clad wall, rooted in the living rock and broken at intervals by shapely turrets ; over which peep the upper works of the central keep. The spars and cordage of some stranded coasting vessels, and a group of men calking their weather-beaten timbers, lend an added charm to an exceedingly pic- turesque scene. We are indebted to Leland for the ensuing description of the castle as it appeared in the days of bluff King Hal : ' The Castel stondeth hard by the waul on a hard Rokke, and is veri large and stronge, being doble wardid. In the atter ward I saw the chaumbre wher King Henri the vii was borne ; in knowledge whereof a chymmeney is now made, with the amies and Badges of King Henri \'ii. In the botom of the great stronge Towr, in the inner warde, is a mervelous vault called the Hogan.' Another chronicler of very different stamp, the late Professor Freeman, thus records his impressions of this interesting pile : ' Pem- broke Castle remarkably combines elevation and niassiveness, so that its effect is one of vast general bulk. It is another conspicuous instance of the majesty often accruing to dismantled buildings, which they could never have possessed when in a perfect state.' Traversing the outer barbican that protected the deep-set entrance, we pause to marvel at the elaborate defences of double portcullis and thick, nail-studded doors, commanded by loopholed guard-chambers, set within the gloomy arches of the gate-tower. The latter presents a stately front, flanked by attached round towers, overlooking the inner court ; and contains a number of fine apartments for the accommodation of distinguished guests. We next turn our attention to the adjacent barbican tower, whose massive \\alls are seamed from top to base b\' huge, gaping rents, through which the daylight peers ; yet so great is their tenacity they still remain intact, and support the original stone roof. Each story is pierced with loopholes, ingeniously constructed to pre\ent missiles entering from below. The spacious courtyard enclosed b}- the outer walls is carpeted with velvety turf, whereon ' the quality ' are wont to foregather from far and near to wield the tennis-racket, and contest for J'EMIIROKE C/ISTLE. 59 ' deuce ' and ' love ' upon the selfsame spot where, in the brave days of old, the Harcourts and De Valances, and all the flower of Norman chivalry, flung down the ^gauntlet or broke a lance upon the field of honour, while fair spectators waved encouragement from every arch and balcony. Beside the great central keep a labyrinth of crumbling walls, towers and arches, mainly of Edwardian date, cluster together in ' most admired confusion.' Here are pointed out the remains of the chapel of St. Nicholas, given by Montgomer}- to the Norman abbey of Sayes. A chamber is usually pointed out, in the building called the Exchequer, as that in which Henry VII. first saw the light ; but Mr. Cobb suggests a room in the tower overlooking Westgate Hill. Unfortunately, the arms and badges noticed by Leland no longer exist to mark the scene of that interesting event. Clambering down a flight of broken steps in an obscure corner of the North Hall, we enter the vast cavern known as the Wogan ; a very curious and characteristic feature of Pembroke Castle. As we ramble over the damp and slippery floor, by such light as can struggle in through the huge sally-port and a narrow, pointed window, we find ourselves in a spacious, natural vault sunk deep in the living rock ; its rugged walls and roof festooned with hartstongue fern, and stained by oozing moisture — a weird, fantastic spot, such as the shade of the primaeval cave-dweller might frequent, should he elect to revisit the glimpses of the moon. Sheer from the ' main Rokke ' upon which the castle is founded, rises the vast, circular keep or donjon tower, which formed the central stronghold of the fortress. This is undoubtedly one of the most ancient parts of the castle, having been erected by William Strongbow the elder, ' Rector Regis et Regni,' as he proudly styled himself; who was Earl Mareschal of Pembroke during the reigns of Richard Cceur- de-Lion and John. This imposing structure impresses every beholder b}- the vast pro- portions and stern simplicity of its mighty bulk. The massive walls rise to a height of more than 75 feet, and are of amazing thickness 6o NOOA'S AND CORNERS OF REM UROKESII I RE. and solidity ; a spiral staircase, set deep within the wall, gave access to the several floors and to the rampart around the summit, which com- mands a wide sweep of the circumjacent landscape, with a glimpse of the winding Haven. The floors have long since fallen away, though the holes for the beams that supported them may still be seen, and two huge fireplaces with yawning archways of enormous size. Lancet- windows and loops for the archers open out here and there ; one of the former, high up the wall (which appears in our sketch), retaining some touches of ornamentation. 'TheToppe of this round Towr,' as Leland quaintly puts it, 'is gatherid with a Rose of Stone ;' and, despite seven centuries of rough weather and hard usage, the huge fabric appears intrinsically little the worse for wear, and capable still of making a stand ' 'gainst the tooth of time and razure of oblivion,' for many a long year to come. A stroll around the outer walls, and a peep at the Monkton Tower, completes our perambulation of Pembroke Castle. With its neighbours of Manorbere, Tenby and Carew, Pembroke formed a quadrilateral, planted to guard this exposed district against attack from without : moreover, as Professor Freeman has pointed out, this time-honoured fortress has a special interest for the antiquarian student, as affording an unusually complete example of a media;val castle protecting a civic settlement. In the course of a ramble around the town, we turn into old St. Mary's Church, a handsome edifice containing some curiously sculptured tombs and a brand-new reredos. A low, massive tower rises at one end of the church ; and hard by it stands the quaint cupola of the old market-house, which, adorned with a clock, antl little figures of boys by way of pinnacles, makes a pretty show in the view along the High Street. Many of the older houses have an unpretentious charm about them, with their antiquated bow-windows and wide oak staircases with twisted balusters. Not a few of the better sort have old-fashioned gardens to the rear, abloom in summer days with homely flowers, and redolent of honeysuckle, lavender and jasmine. Of the three town gates described by Leland, a scanty remnant of PEMBROKE. 6i the West Gate is all that now survives. Proceeding down the main street, with the castle walls upon oiir right hand, we pass a group of cottages jumbled all together upon a rising bank beside the highway, whence they are approached by flights of crazy steps. A glance at our sketch of these picturesque old structures (which have alrcad\- been partially- ' restored ' since this view was taken) will show the broken arch of the demolished \\-est Gate, and the castle walls frowning across the roadway, which has been widened out since the gate was remo\-ed. At the bottom of the hill we skirt the salt waters of a creek, or 'pill,' to use the local term, that ' gulfith in" beneath the shaggy bank upon which the castle stands. Traversing the bridge, we mount up- wards again, and turn aside into a hollow wa\- where a cluster of thatched cottages, half hidden beneath embowering woodbine, stands high above the roadway ; whence time-worn steps clamber to their lowly jiorches. But, vis-a-vk across the lane, rises a building whose unfamiliar aspect at once arrests our attention. This is Monkton Old Hall, whose massive front of dark-hued s'.one is pierced with narrow w indows, set 10 NOOA'-S AA'D CORNERS OF PEMnROKESHrRE. beneath a low Urowed archway. Upon passing to the rear we stumble upon a real old-world nook, where a crazy old ' Flemish ' chimnej- rears above a curious medley of weather-stained roofs and gables. With the courteous assent of the proprietor, we now take a glance round the interior. Passing through a low, pointed doorway, we thread our way amidst tortuous passages, and enter a lofty apartment. A large stone arch in the wall at one end encloses two quaint little slits of windows (or peepholes, rather), with a similar opening lower down, overlook- ing the approach from the outer entrance. A tortuous stairway gives access to the upper regions, which contain various small chambers, one of them having a fine old stone chimney-piece. But the most notable feature of the place is a large, oblong chamber cut out of the rock, with vaulted roof of Norman date supported by massive ribs, which occupies the lower part of the house. It has a separate entrance from the road, and a big fireplace opening to the circular chimney - shaft above mentioned. Alonkton Priory, of which this old hall appears to have been the hospitium, or Prior's dwellmg, was founded in logS : and was subordinate to St. Martin's Abbey at Seez, in Normandy. Resuming our ramble, we turn through a wicket at the top of the road, and follow a narrow path that leads to the great south porch of .UOXATO.V. 63 Monkton Priory Church. The venerable edifice has a picturesque appearance ; with the ruined walls and traccried windows of an ancient chapel beside the chancel, and the Nornian porch breaking the line of the nave roof. Upon passing around to the north side, we are struck by the archaic simplicity of the long, Norman nave, strengthened with vast rugged buttresses and lighted by narrow, round-arched windows, set few and far between. The chapel above mentioned projects upon this side ; and the ground is broken by traces of buildings that formed part of the precincts of the ancient prior}-. The lonely dwelling to the westward was until lately used as the rectory house ; an unpretending edifice, whose weather-stained coating of rough-cast partially conceals rows of old corbels, and other half- obliterated features. Looking hence across Monkton Pill we have a fine view of the castle, with its picturesque array of broken towers and bastions, and a cjuaint old stone pigeon-cot down in the valley which formed an appendage to that lordly menage. While enjoying this goodly scene, a summer shower sweeps up from the sea, and robs us for a time of the enchanting prospect ; but ere long the old fortress reappears beneath a brilliant arc of rainbow, glowing in borrowed splendours under the warm rays of the declining sun. Hr * * * * *• ' Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund Day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops,' as we fare cheerily forth, on the morrow's morn, to explore the remoter recesses of that secluded district \'cleped the Stackpole Country. Our footsteps echo loudly as we trudge through Pembroke's deserted street, where as yet a few half - awakened housemaids, and labouring men going to their day's work, are the only signs of life. Nearing the railway- station we turn aside into a narrow, tortuous lane ; cross the stream that fed the old town moat and, passing a water- mill beside a disused limestone quarry, we strike up the steady ascent of Windmill Hill ; catching en route a glimpse of the time-worn steeple of St. Daniel's Church, now used merely as a cemetery chapel. Upon winning the crest of the ridge the country opens out ahead. 64 NOOK'S AXD CORNERS OF PliM HROK ESHIRE. showin.t,' :i cliistrr (if tall rlitiicli towers clear against the skyline ; and then we drop sharply down one of those short, steep 'pinches' that make such hea\y work for the liorses hereabouts. Groups of country-folk jaunt by to market in carts of primitive build, propelled by strong, well-cared-for looking donkeys : and thus, ,; /xiLO a pocu as they say in Italy, we work our passage through quiet, unfrequented by- ways ; startling a shy rabbit here and there. ?^"r or flushing a buxom partridge and herbrood from beneath our very feet. Now and again we pause to catch the throstle's mellow song, or to watch the easy movements of a pair of sparrow-hawks, as they wheel in slow, graceful gyrations through the air. By - and - by we come to Cheriton ; a tiny hamlet with a comely church, whose tall, ivy -clad tower rises from a wooded dell. In the church- yard stands an ancient cross smothered in creepers, and the stepping- block for those who rode to church in bygone days. In the north wall of the chancel, beneath a handsome, canopied recess of somewhat unusual character, lies the effigy of its reputed founder. Sir Elidin- de Stackpole. [^v' '■? 1 STACKPOLE. 6; The figure has a grave and dignified appearance ; it is clad in a suit of chain-and-plate mail, and has sword, shield and large spurs. The worthy knight is represented with crossed legs, as having fought in the wars of the Crusades ; at the time, no doubt, when Baldwyn and Gerald of Manorbere were inciting the people to that famous enterprise. The base of this monument is divided into six panels, in each of which is a figure beneath a cusped and crocketed arch. These quaint little effigies show a curious variety of costume and expression, and are worth close examination. Upon the opposite, or southern, side of the chancel is the figure of a lady, apparently of Edwardian date. The head is covered with a square hood, and is supported by two kneeling angels. This effigy is very well executed, and in an unusually good state of preservation. In the adjacent chantr\- we notice the earl\- seventeenth-century monument of ' Roger Lorte, late Lorde of the Mannor of Stackpoole.' This singular erection is enriched with the painted figures of Sir Roger, his lad)', and their twelve children, and bears a pious inscription in the peculiar style of the period. Under the window of this chantr)- lies a disused altar stone bearing the following inscription, which we respect- fully submit for antiquaries to exercise their wits upon : camu oris FILI FANNIC. Hard beneath the church we plunge into a woodland path, and follow the meanderings of a prattling brook which hurries along, beneath the cool shade of overarching trees, to the lake-like river that skirts the broad demesne of Stackpole Court. The variety and luxuriance of the forest trees that flourish in this sheltered locality, are all the more striking in a country where well- developed timber is, as a rule, conspicuous by its absence ; for the rigorous gales that sweep across the more exposed uplands, give to the struggling vegetation that leeward slant which is a characteristic of many a Pembrokeshire landscape. Pleasant it is, turning from the glare of the dusty roadway, to saunter beneath these leafy aisles of smooth-stemmed beech and knotty oak, mountain-ash, ilex and Scotch fir ; and to push our way through 66 XOOKS AXD CORyERS OF PEMRROKESHrR E. intertwining thickets of bramble, wild-rose and ivy, enmeshed by the clinging woodbine and traveller's joy ; while all the time the mercury, in less-favoured spots, is climbing steadily towards the eighties. Crossing a rustic bridge that spans the lake, we pause to watch the slim, brown trout darting in every direction beneath the water-lilies that adorn its placid surface ', when, suddenly, a brace of dusky waterfowl, alarmed by our intrusion, dart off with an impetuous splash and trail away in rapid flight to the slielter of the ozier-beds. Ere long the broad, gray front of Stackpole Court comes into view beyond a stretch of velvety greensward ; the massive porch being flanked by two smaU Spanish field-guns of antiquated pattern, bearing the titles ' La Destruidora ' and ' La Tremenda.' The existing mansion was built by an ancestor of the present Lord Cawdor, upon the site of the baronial residence of that same Sir Elidur de Stackpole, whose tomb we have so lately seen at Cheriton. The older house had experienced a chequered career. After weathering many troubles in mediaeval times, it was garrisoned by the King's troops during the Civil Wars : when its stout old walls offered such effective resistance to the Parliamentary cannon, that they did but little execution. STACK POLE COURT. 67 Stackpole is now the residence of the noble ' Thane of Cawdor,' whose ancestor acquired the estate by marriage with Miss Lort, the sole heiress to all these broad acres. The mansion contains some interesting works of art and relics of antiquity, including a portrait by Romney of the famous Lady Hamilton ; a fine painting of Admiral Sir George Campbell, G.C.B., who captured the French invaders at Fishguard in 1797; and a curious old map of the county, adorned with shields and armorial devices. That famous drinking-cup the ' Hirlas horn " was formerly to be seen at Stackpole, but has since been removed to Golden Grove, in Carmarthenshire. This curious treasure is mounted in silver, and is supported upon an o\-al plinth by two silver quadrupeds, as shown in our sketch. The latter are probably the only remaining portions of the original horn, presented by Henry of Richmond to his faithful enter- tainer, Dafydd ap levan, while resting at the castle of Llwyn Dafydd, in Cardiganshire, on his way to Bosworth Field. Uiion faring forth again, we are struck with admiration of the 68 A'OOA'S AXJ) CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. splendid groups of evergreen trees that adorn the vicinity of the mansion, and the trim, well-tended grounds that contrast so pleasantly with the wild luxuriance of the surroimding \\oodlands. At the neighbouring farm we pick up a track diverging to the left, that leads us over a bridge spanning the lake-like estuar}-, affording a pretty peep of the mansion upon its bank. Thence our path winds across the breezy slopes of Stackpole Park, until we drop suddenly upon a tiny quay and cluster of cottages, stowed away beside the sea in the oddest corner imaginable, under the sheltering lee of the cliffs. Ensconced in this out-of-the-way nook, we snatch a well-earned fiesta ; and upon resuming our stroll we fallow the coast-line, passing near a cavern that goes by the name of Lort's Cave, and catching a glimpse of the secluded cove of Barrafundle, backed by a stretch of blue sea and the bold crags of Stackpole Head. Retracing our steps to the farm we pass near a spot where, accord- ing to a fading tradition, a certain ghostly party of headless travellers were wont to arrive, about nightfall, in a spectral coach from Tenby ; each pale shade, as 'tis said, bearing his head stowed snugly away under his arm ! Another half-hour sees us into Bosheston, the remotest village of this Ultima Thule. The place has a nautical air all its own ; with a row of trim coastguards" cottages, whose strip of sandy garden ground is em- bellished with the figure-head of some ' tall Ammiral " of bygone days. Atop of the hamlet stands the church, a primitive-looking old edifice, with a rude stone cross and broken stoup standing amidst the tomb- stones. The route is now all plain sailing, for we have merelv to ' follow our noses ' along the sandy trackway ; while the salt wind deals us many a lust}' buffet as we trudge seawards across the open, shelterless uplands. Upon reaching the cliff-head, we discover a flight of rough steps, whereof, as the fable goes, no man can tell the number. Descending the winding way we find ourselves, a few minutes later, before St. Govan's Chapel. This diminutive structure stands in a narrow chine between wild. ST. GOVAN .V CHAPEL. 69 tumbled crags. It is rudely constructed of weather-stained blocks of limestone, arched over with a primitive kind of vault, and is lighted by two or three narrow windows. A low doorway in the eastern wall gives access to a cell-like recess, just big enough for a man to turn round in. Here, according to a curious old legend, St. Govan sought shelter from his pagan enemies ; whereupon the massy rock closed over him and hid liim from his pursuers, opening again to release the pious anchorite so soon as the chase was overpassed. Anent this queer nook, the popular superstition runs that all who can keep to the self- same wish, while they turn around therein, will obtain their desire before the year is out — a belief that, to judge from the well-worn appear- ance of the rock face, must be widely entertained. Upon the western gable rises a small bell -cot, long since bereft of its solitary bell. For it happened, ' once upon a time,' that a wicked pirate ^~ who chanced to be sailing "" '^^^^W^ by became enamoured of its ^SiAfjgiL, silvery tones, and, landing with his rascally crew, plundered the sanctuary of its treasure. His success, however, was short-lived, for a mighty storm arose and overwhelmed the vessel, so that every soul aboard perished in the raging waves. Meanwhile the bereaved hermit was compensated for his loss with a miraculous stone, which, when struck, gave forth the identical tone of the cherished bell ; and credulous folk to this day affirm that the neighbouring rocks ring, upon being struck, with surprising alacrity. From the chapel we next scramble down to the ' holy well," a II 70' NOOKS AND' CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. neglected spot of no interest save such as tradition can lend. Yet in olden times folk were wont to gather here from far and wide, in anticipation of an instant cure for ' those thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.' Quaint legends and superstitions such as these linger, to this day, amongst the older peasantry of this remote portion of South Pembroke- shire. Indeed, the whole locality offers a happy hunting-ground to anyone curious in the matter of old-tim& folk-lore. For behold, is not this Gwlad yr Hud, the Christian Kymro's Land of Phantasy ; which, long ere the time that history had dawned, was enveloped in Llengel, the \'eil of Mystery ? Each castle-crowned head- land of this rock-bound coast, and every grass-grown rath and barrow that hnrows the surface of these immemorial hills, has formed the theme of some half - forgotten legend or lingering tradition, • long cherished among this imaginative people. A lonesome, sea-girt land where storms and sea-mists, sweeping from the wide Atlantic, wreath the steadfast hills in unsubstantial vapours, through which each beetling precipice that frowns across the ocean looms like some weird vision of a dream. Amidst such scenes as these, the fantastic creations of the Keltic imagination must readily have found ' a local habitation and a name." Well, rcvenom a nos moutons, after this excursion into legend-land. Seated on a mossy stone, we contemplate the age-worn cliffs whose ruddy bastions, carved into a thousand castellated forms, range their impregnable fronts against old Ocean's impetuous artillery. A steady south-westerly breeze sends the green, translucent rollers voll3-ing with thunderous roar against the weed-fringed rocks upon the shore : while flocks of gulls wheel overhead, drifting on motionless, angular jiiiiions, or sweeping across the breakers with harsh, discordant cries. We now seek out a view-point for a sketch of the lonely hermitage', a matter of no small difficulty owing to the tumbled nature of the ground ; but eventually we select a sheltered spot where the noontide sun, peering downward from the cloudless vault of heaven, draws out the rich, sweet odours of sea-pink, wild-thyme and gorse. BOSHESTOA' MEER. 71 Mounting again tu the brow of the cliffs, we ramble around the lonely coast, which hereabouts is indented with a Series of 'fcrankling nookes ' that penetrate, like long fingers, deep into the land. Here is the wild and perilous abyss yclept the Huntsman's Leap, from the story of some fabulous rider who, putting his horse to full gallop, plunged across the unexpected chasm, only to perish from sheer fright upon regaining his home ! The nodding cliffs approach so closely upon either hand, as to have been not inaptly likened to a pair of leviathan vessels locked fast in collision. A bowshot westward lies Boshcston Meer, a similar cavern sunk fathoms deep in the solid rock. Near it is a funnel-shaped aperture that acts in stormy weather as a blowhole ; whence it is said the waves are driven high above the land, plunging back again with a roar that can be heard far inland. Strange tales were told in bygone times of the freaks of this tempest- torn abyss. George Owen, an Elizabethan chronicler, observes: 'If Sheepe or other like Cattell be grazing neere the Pitt, offtimes they are forcibly and violently Drawne and carryed into the pitt ; and if a Cloke, 01; other garment, bee cast on the grownd neere the Pitt, at certaine seasones, you shall stande afarre off, and see it sodainely snatch'd, drawne and swallowed up into the Pitt, and never scene againe.' Quitting this wild and fascinating spot, we pass near the grass- grown mounds of a prehistoric camp ; and then, striking a little inland, make for a sort of green oasis that marks the ' Sunken Wood.' A vast, shelving pit, sunk some 50 feet below the level of the ground, and twice as many across, is filled with a grove of vigorous ash- trees. Their dense foliage entirely covers the top of the chasm ; where it is cut off, smooth as a well-trimmed hedge, by the sea-spray borne upon the gales from the adjacent ocean. Many conjectures have been formed as to the origin of this re- markable freak of Nature : the most plausible being that, the subsoil having been excavated by the waves through some subterranean fissure, the ground has fallen in from above and formed this cavit}-. We now hark liack to the cliffs once more, and coast around t^ie 72 NOOKS AMD CORXEKS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. broad inlet of BullslauiL,'hter Bay, whose rocky walls are pierced with many a dark, weed-fringed cavern where ' Old Triton blows his wreathed horn.' Pacing the springy turf of the open down, we feast our eyes upon the sparkling waters of the Channel, whose sunlit waves roll in upon the rocky headlands, ' where the broad ocean leans against the land.' The flat, featureless character of the landward view enhances by contrast the attractions of the iron-bound coast ; upon whose wild, fantastic crags and beetling precipices, the traveller gazes in undivided admiration. Anon we diverge seawards again, and, traversing the grassy mounds of a prehistoric camp, we look down into the depths of a profound abyss known as the Cauldron. The weather-stained precipices of this magnificent chasm rise sheer from the ocean, inaccessible save to the gulls and cormorants that haunt their rocky ledges. Huge archways and vaulted passages, yawning in the limestone rock, afford glimpses of the foam-flecked waves beleaguering, in unceasing onslaught, these sea-girt bulwarks of the steadfast land. Onward we plod, until erelong the incessant clang and clamour of the myriad sea-fowl that, time out of mind, have made their home amidst these wild and inaccessible sea-cliffs, tell of our approach to the far-famed Stack Rocks. Standing upon a rocky vantage-point, we have the two lofty, isolated rocks, or ' stacks," fall in \iew ; rising from the surging ocean that rolls in foaming eddies around their feet. Countless sea-birds wheel with harsh, discordant cries around their weathered sides ; where every available ledge and cranny of the rocks is peopled with a multitude of feathered bipeds, huddled together close as herrings in a barrel. Here, cheek -by-jowl in sociable good-fellowship, cluster clumsy guillemots (or 'eligugs,' as they call them locally), razorbills, and ridiculous-looking puffins in clerical black and white ; while kittiwakes, sea-pies and dark- green cormorants dart about athwart the w'aves, or, perched upon some projecting ledge, pursue their morning toilette with the utmost insouciance. WARREN. 73 The eggs of these birds are of rather peciiHar form. Very large at one end and pointed at the other, their sides are curiously flattened ; this nice provision of Nature rendering them less liable to roll off the narrow ledges of the rocks which are their resting-place. Inexorable time forbids our rambling farther around the trend of the sea-cliffs ; so we reluctantly quit their breezy summits to hie away- inland f)ast the lonely chapel of Flimston ; keeping straight ahead through sandy lanes glorified with hedges of golden gorse, and ' the swete bramble floure ' of good old Chaucer. Presently we come in sight of the tall steeple of Warren Church on the rise of the hill before us. A long mile westward from our present road lies Bullibur, where traces of an ancient chapel have been brought to light at a spot to this day known as the ' Church Ways.' Anent the erection of this little edifice, the story runs that, as fast as ever the builders could raise their stones from day to day, the Prince of Darkness came along and demolished their handiwork during the night. Be that as it may, we now press on to Warren ; whose fine old church has a massive tower and spire, of such lofty height as to form a notable landmark to pilots far away at sea. The tunnel- vaulted nave and porch, with a well-preserved cross in the churchj-ard, complete the tale of Warren's noiabilia. With a final glance around the wide-extended landscape, encircled by a blue stretch of the distant Channel, we shape our course over some rising ground at a place called Cold Comfort — a tantalizing mis- nomer this torrid afternoon. Our road then winds down the hill to a fresh, clear stream, running through water-meadows where cattle stand knee-deep in the cooling shallows ; and so, crossing Stem Bridge, we enter the confines of the ancient Honour of Pembroke. Breasting the upward slope, we pass through numerous gates athwart the little -frequented highway, which hereabouts calls for no particular notice, being chiefly remarkable for the amazing and dazzling whiteness of its coating of limestone dust, which, under the glare of the afternoon sun, recalls the parched routes of distant Italy. This brings 74 NOOKS AND CORNERS UF PEM BROKESHfRE. into play our dark, smoked glasses and the weatherbeaten sketching umbrella, to the huge delectation of the small fry skylarking around the .wayside cottage gates. By-and-by the many-windowed front of Orielton appears amidst the rolling woodlands that cluster around a pretty lakelet lying in the hollow of the vale. There is an old saying that Orielton possesses as many windows as the year has days, and as many doors as days in the month : hut finding the fable tally ill with the apparent size of the mansion, we propound the conundrum to an old road-mender who explains that a large part of the building was ' throwed down ' years ago, when he was ' a bit of a boy.' At Hundleton two roads diverge near the village green, and, as ' all roads lead to Rome,' either will do for Pembroke ; so we steer as straight a course as we can, the lane winding down beneath overarching trees to a secluded nook where a stream meanders, under deep, ruddy sand- MONK TON. 75 stone banks, to lose itself in a salt-watei- ' jiiJl " tliat joins the Pennar River. Tra\'ersing the long, tedious street of Monkton, our lengthening shadows point the way as we push on once more into Pembroke town ; conjuring up, after the long day's tramp, rare visions of the good cheer awaiting us at the modest quarters where we come to anchor for the night. ^•r BtMaSi£R^wv.|x,itj;^ CHAPTER V. TO ANGLE, RHOSCROWTHER, AND THE CASTLE MARTIN COUNTRY. WE extend our ram- bles, by a westerly course,through the re- mote and little-visited peninsula that encom- passes the 'lardf( and spatious Harborough' of Milford Haven, upon its southern tlank. There is an Eastern saying that ' men grow blind in gazing at the sun, and never see the beauty of the stars.' Throughout the locality in question we shall not be dazzled by grand or striking scenery ; yet we may happen unawares upon many a nook of pleasant verdure amidst its rolling sandstone hills ; and quiet corners, full of an indescribable charm, in the world-forgetting villages (undis- covered by the guide-books) that nestle in its remote, sequestered vales. Getting away ' bright and early ' from Pembroke streets, while the smoke of newly-kindled fires still hangs softly around the old house- tops of the town, the keen, crisp air of the half-awakened day sends us spinning along at a pace that makes short work of the tedious highway. At a bend of the road we digress into a hollow seductive lane that meanders, in nonchalant fashion, around the head of a tidal inlet ; thence our by-way beguiles us, by moss-grown stepping-stones, across a tinkUng rill that wantons in rippling eddies amidst big red sandstone boulders, where ivy and hartstongue fern have made their home. Onwards we pursue this secluded lane, under the cool shade of an over- THE NIGHTINGALE. 77 hanging coppice ; here the deep, ruddy soil is shot with purple hues, from the blue sky mirrored in each shallow puddle left by last night's rain. In every shadowy nook wreaths of fair}- gossamer glisten, like frosted silver, amidst the emerald green of the hedgerow. The merry pipe of linnet and piefinch sounds cheerily forth as we pass along ; while that quaint little fellow, the nuthatch, utters his unmistakeable note (resembling the ring of skates on the ice), as he flits from tree to tree. Working his way head-downwards, in his own peculiar fashion, he searches trunk and branches for his favourite fare ; striking with his long, sturdy beak, and steadying himself by the purchase of his out- spread tail. Now and again we catch a glimpse of a smart goldfinch, and pre- sently discover his pretty nest, with eggs lying warm and cosy ; while sober little wrens flit briskly in and out under the bushes. Even the nightingale, though a rava avis in these parts, has, this phenomenal season, been heard in the woods near Cresselly. The following tradition explains how these little songsters came to shun the county of Pembroke. It appears that St. David, ' being seriously occupyed in the night tyme in his diverse orizons, was soe troubled with the swete tuninges of the Nightingall as that he praied unto th' Almightie that, from that tyme forward, there might never a Nightingall sing within his Dioces ; and this was the cause of confininge of the bird out of this countrey. Thus much,' remarks the chronicler, ' to recreat the reader's spirettes.' Presently as we rise the hill a broad, land-locked bay opens out to the briny Haven at Pennar Mouth. In the words of that quaint chronicler, George Owen : ' This is the creke that cometh upp to Pembroke towne. It is the largest and greatest creke of al Milforde, and passeth upp into the land a three Myle and more ; and at the upper End it parteth itself in two Branches, and compasseth about the Towne and castle of Pembroke ; serving the said Towne for a moate, or strong Ditch, on every side thereof. A Bark of 40 or 50 Tonnes may enter this Creke att low water, and ride at Ankher att Crowpoole, but noe further without helpe of ye Tyde. The Crow is a shallow, or shelf, a 12 78 NOOk'S AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. pretty way witliin the entrance of Pennar: on itt p;ro\veth the best Oysters of Milforde. It is a big and sweete Oyster,' saith he, 'and poore folk gather them without dredging.' Far away upon the glassy waters of the Haven, a handful of vessels lie at anchor off Hobb's Point, where the old coach-road runs down to the ferry. All this is soon lost to view as we descend to a tree-shaded dingle, aglow with foxgloves, campion and yellow fleur-de-lys. Anon our path winds upwards across an open hillside, amidst acres of glow- ing gorse ; passing a few lonely thatched cottages, with donkeys brows- ing leisurely about their open doors. At a place called Wallaston Cross five lanes converge, necessitating a consultation with the trusty Ordnance map. The choice falls upon an upland road, running along the brow of a hill, that raises us just high enough to peep across the Haven to Milford town, and the towers of distant Pembroke; over which we catch a glimpse of the Precelly hills, lying far away upon the northern horizon. Down in a sequestered dell, overlooking the estuary, nestles the little church of Pwllcroghan ; its low tower and dumpy spire scarce out-topping a grove of tempest-torn trees. Long ago this lowly edifice was restored by Ralph de Beneger, a former Rector, whose counterfeit presentment reposes in his church beneath a canopy bearing the inscription : ' Hie jacet Radulphus Beneger, hujus ecclesia; Rector.' In 1648 a skirmish took place in Pwllcroghan churchyard, between the Royalist and Parliamentary troops ; when it is recorded that 'the malignants, as was their custom, displayed on their hats the legend, " We long to see our King." ' Trudging steadily onwards, we pass near Henllan House, formerly a possession of the Whites of Tenby ; a place which still keeps its old Welsh name amidst all its Saxon neighbours. That rascally vagrant the cuckoo now pipes up from a neighbouring coppice, and ' tells his name to all the hills ' in monotonous iteration ; w hile lovely Silver- washed Fritillaries and sky-blue butterflies flit to and fro beside the hedgerow. At a crook of the lane we turn through a gate, and follow the ' fore- ANGLE BAY. 79 draught ' down to Eastington fannliouse, where the good-natured farmer and his better-half provide bed and board for the coming night ; a vast convenience in this unfrequented district, which offers no accommodation of a higher type than the ordinary hedge alehouse. After despatching a modest repast, in which the staff of life forms the backbone of our fare, we resume our devious ramble. An un- mistakeable footpath leads past the ruins of a deserted water-mill to the shore of Angle Bay, whose calm blue waters, spreading broadly into the land, mirror a cloudless sky of unrivalled purity. Skirting an ancient moss-grown wall which, for some inscrutable reason, encloses a tract of apparently valueless marshland, we roam across the shingly beach towards a group of isolated buildings. Pale yellow sea-poppies, taking heart of grace to brave the lusty breezes, beautify the waste places with their delicate flowers ; and groups of cattle, standing knee-deep in the shallows, add a touch of life to the pleasant, tranquil scene. Our route now lies around the rocky shore, an opportune fieldpath skirting the low cliffs, and affording lovely ever-changing views over the sunny landscape and the land-locked Haven. The warm south wind, sweet from clover fields, is fraught with the roar of the ocean, driving full into Freshwater Bay a mile away bej-ond the sandy burrows ; but here under the lee of the hill, scarce a breath of air stirs the ripening barlej-. Suddenly a brace of partridges blusters away from the sun- baked ploughfield, where the ruddy eye of the ' pimpernel ' peeps from every furrow. Ensconced beneath a gnarled old hawthorn hedge wreathed in fragrant woodbine, we indulge in a quiet pipe ; watching the rabbits as they scuttle to and fro under the sandy bank, and the dainty blue dragonflies hovering over the meadowsweet and ragged Robin, that deck the oozy course of the streamlet at our feet. The deep tones of a steamer's syren float across the water, followed by the report of a heavy gun from a fortress guarding the Haven ; for the summer manceuvres are now in full swing, and we can see the white-peaked tents of the Connaught Rangers behind Angle Point. The gracefully curving shore is fringed with a broad stretch of sea- 8o .yOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. weed, of every hue from golden brown to bottle green, whence the pungent odour of ozone is borne upon the sun-warmed air. Glancing back across the bay, we catch a glimpse of the old farm- house that is to be our local habitation for to-night ; near which the tower of Rhoscrowther Church rises amidst its solitary grove of trees. A long mile further we enter the village of Angle (or Nangle, as it is sometimes called), a place that in ancient deeds is styled ' in Angulo,' doubtless from its situation in a corner of the land. The long village street with its one-storied cottages, many of them coloured yellow, pink or blue, and all embowered in luxuriant climbing plants, has a pleasant, cheery look ; and as we advance a ruined tower comes into view, rising above some marshy meadows beside the stream. This is all that remains of the castle of Angle, once the abode of the Sherbornes, an ancient family in the land, who were formerly lords of Angle. At no great distance from the church are some remains of a handsome structure of uncertain antiquity. Nothing is known about the history of these ruins : but they have supplied a peg whereon to hang a local legend, somewhat to the following effect : ' Once upon a time,' three sisters and co-heiresses, finding they could not pull together under the same roof, agreed to build each of them a dwelling for herself. The first is said to have erected the castle ; the second, the curious old house above mentioned : and the third, a mansion just without the village, where a house named Hall now stands. Turning through a wicket-gate, we pass by an old stone cross and enter the church, over which, alas ! has swept the moloch of modern restoration, obliterating much of its original character. In one corner, however, we espy a queer little organ of primitive type, with unenclosed pipes and keyboard, not unlike the spinet of earlier days. This has been recently evicted in favour of a brand-new instrument designed by the present vicar, who is skilled in the art and mystery of organ-building. Angle Church was one of the numerous benefices held by that famous Welsh chronicler, Giraldus Cambrensis. In a corner of the churchyard, overlooking the tidal inlet, rises a picturesque little chapel frequented in olden times by the seafaring folk, ANGLE. 8l when embarking upon or returning from their ventures on the vasty deep. Externally all is obscured beneath a mantle of glossy green ivy, save where a traceried window or low-arched doorway peeps from under the shadowy foliage. Ascending a few steps to the interior, we find ourselves in a small, oblong chamber covered with a pointed stone vault; at the east end stands a plain, stone altar, surmounted by an elegant little traceried window, whose modern painted glass portrays Scriptural scenes appropriate to the purpose of the chapel. A small piscina, and the recumbent figure of some unknown ecclesiastic under an arched recess, adorn this nutshell of a church. Beneath it is a crypt of similar dimensions, entered through a doorway at the eastern end, and lighted by small quatrefoil openings pierced through the thickness of the walls. We now turn our attention to the castle ruins, which are reached by passing the school-house and crossing a small grass-plot, adorned 82 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. with a simple monument to some local benefactor. Little else remains besides a tall, ivy-clad peel-tower, whose massive limestone walls abut upon the shallow stream that meanders to the ba}-. These solid walls are honeycombed with archways and passages ; while a good, stone- newel stairway corkscrews up to the outermost battlements, above which rises a circular chimney-shaft. Each of the four stories had its own fireplace, window recesses and other conveniences; and the lower chamber is stoutly vaulted with stone. Altogether, the place appears to have been built in such a self-contained fashion as to be capable of resisting attack, or even sustaining a siege. ANGLE CASTLE. 83 Close at hand stands a low, rambling, yellow-washed house, having every sign of age about it. Many years ago this was the Castle Inn. The interior shows dark, open-raftered ceilings, where mighty hams and flitches of bacon ripen the year round ; broad-beamed oaken chairs flank a solid table standing upon the rough, flagged floor ; while dogs, cats, hens and chickens roam sociably everywhere. A carved stone head, peeping out from amidst the honeysuckle that clambers over the porch, is said, to represent Giraldus Cambrensis himself, a statement that must be accepted with the proverbial ' grain of salt.' The rough outbuildings at the rear also bear traces of antiquity ; and in an adjacent meadow stands one of those curious old pigeon-houses, which formed a customary adjunct to the mediaeval castle or manor- house. The thick stone walls of this pigeon-house are built in a circular form, surmounted by a high conical roof much the worse (except from a picturesque point of view) for several centuries of neglect and hard weather ; the interior is pierced with many tiers of pigeon-holes, each with a ledge for the bird to rest upon, while an ' eye ' in the crown of the roof served its feathered inmates as a doorway. The original arched entrance has been broken away to form a larger opening, and the whole structure appears to be coeval with the neighbouring castle. This pigeon-house appears in our sketch of Angle Castle. Invigorated b}' a crisp sea-breeze that drives the fleecy clouds before it, we put our best foot foremost, and stretch away along a rough cart-lane between banks of prickly furze and stunted hawthorn hedges. These give place, after passing a solitary farmstead, to the open, wind-swept down, aglow with amber-tinted gorse, and carpeted with dry, crisp turf and tussocks of flowering thrift. Half a mile across this bracing moorland lands us at the old ruined Blockhouse, built, as George Owen informs us, in the days of Henry VIII. 'for to ympeach the entrance into the Haven.' Hence - we look out across the open seaway, that forms a worthy approach to the noble estuary of Milford Haven. From this sea-girt eyrie we command a spacious outlook over land and sea. Standing beside the gray, lichen-clad ruins of the old watch- 84 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. tower, our gaze wanders across a sparkling expanse of open sea that rolls, in waves of clearest aquamarine and sapphire blue, towards the land- locked shelter of the Haven ; and breaks into crests of snowy foam where St. Anne's Head stands out and takes the brunt of old Ocean's fury. The ruddy, sandstone rocks rise in picturesque confusion from the surging breakers, which eddy around a tiny islet accessible only at low tide ; whose forefront, planted in the ocean, is barbed with a grim array of jagged ledges and pierced with dark, yawning crevices. Beyond West Angle Bay the mainland rounds away eastwards, with a fort-crowned islet protecting the inner reaches of the famous estuary. It is to be hoped that the unrivalled advantages of Milford Haven will ere long be turned to better account. With its noble fairway, un- trammelled by shoal or bar, and deep, land-locked reaches where the whole British Navy might safel}- ride at anchor, Milford Haven has no compeer along our western seaboard. Given a better system of railway communication, and proper facilities in the way of docks and wharves, Milford should, in days to come, si^nA facile princcps as a seaport for the magnificent vessels engaged in the great and ever-increasing traffic of the Atlantic ' ferry." But, meanwhile, time is stealing a march upon us, and the lengthen- ing shadows warn us to depart : so, casting a last glance across the sunlit sea, flecked with white ' mares'-tails ' and dotted with brown- sailed trawlers, we retrace our track over the breezy headland. At every step we inhale the healthful smell of wave-washed seaweed, and tread underfoot the flowers that gem the rough, uneven ground — thrift, trefoil, blue sheep's bit and a minute, starlike flower whose name we do not know. • Pushing on through the quiet street of Angle, we diverge up a steep, shady lane in search of Bangeston House ; which proves to be nothing more than the gaunt, dismantled walls of a vast group of buildings, apparently of early eighteenth-century date, mantled in ivy and over- shadowed by sombre trees. The ruins cover a large extent of ground, and appear to have been regarded by the neighbours as a convenient quarry for building materials. Bangeston was, as its name implies, the JESTVNTON. 85 ancestral home of the Benegers, a family of much consequence in olden times who possessed broad acres hereabouts, but whose very name has long since become extinct. Curious tales of the former occupants of Bangeston still linger amongst the cottagers. A certain Lord Lyon, the Garter King-at-Arms of his time, is said to have dwelt here many years ago ; and an ancient graybeard whom we meet volunteers the in- formation that, ' It was a gret plaace in they times, and I've a-heared tell as there was quare ; doings when Lord Lyon lived in th' ould marn- sion. It was him as drove with a coach and horses, one dirty night, and went right over the clift (they do say), down by Freshwater way, and was never seed again." Much edified by the yarns of Old Mor- talit}-, we now retrace our steps to Eastington " ■ ^,,.^1,^,^^^ ^^^ Farm ; musing mean- while over these fast- ^ fading fables, and meeting a few belated peasant-folk trudging home through the gray of the gloaming. Eastington, or more properly Jestynton, is traditionally reputed to have been, in days long before the Conquest, the abode of Jestyn, grandson of Howel Dda, Prince of South Wales. A descendant of his, whose unpronounceable name we refrain from recording, was married to Sir Stephen Perrot, the first Norman of that name to settle in this 86 NOOK'S AND CORNERS OF PEM HROKESHIRE. county : who by thi.^ alliance acquired vast possessions and influence throughout all the countryside. This quaint old homestead of Eastington, under whose hospitable roof we spend the night, is honeycombed with curious nooks and corners, that lure us on to endless scrambles amidst dark, crooked passages, and crumbling stairways. The long south front, with its homely porch and small-paned windows, is flanked at its western end by a massive mediseval structure whose rough, lichen -clad walls are pierced with narrow, deep-set windows, and topped by ruinous battle- ments ; all looking so hoary and ancient, one is disposed to fancy this may be a remnant of the royal residence of that old Welsh Prince whose name it bears. By a rude, steep flight of grass-grown steps we mount to a clumsy door, that swings noisily on its crazy hinges as we push our way into the interior. \N'e now find ourselves in a large and lofty chamber, whose solid, concrete floor is prettily marked out with lines traced in simple geometrical patterns. Rudely-arched windows admit light at either end, one of them having cusped openings ; while a ruined fire- place yawns in the centre of the opposite wall. A small vaulted cell opens from one end of this room ; and a narrow stair, winding through the thickness of the wall, ascends to the battle- mented roof, which has a gangway all around and is pierced with loopholes for defence. The dark, vaulted basement of this ancient fabric forms a capital cool dair}-, where mine hostess shows us with pardonable pride her clean, earthenware pans brimful of the freshest of fresh milk and cream. Anon ensues a quiet chat over the evening pipe ; the mellowing flitches forming a canopy overhead as we lounge in the cavernous chimney-corner. At last we retire to our lowly chamber, to be serenaded far into the night by the boom of heavy guns, waging mimic warfare by land and sea ; while the glare of electric search-lights turns night into noontide, in a highly distracting fashion. Next morning the heavens are already as brass above our heads when, turning our backs on Jestynton, we strike into the meadow-path RHOSCROWTHER. 87 that leads down to Rhoscrowther village. Ensconced in a secluded dell remote from the busy haunts of men, this quiet hamlet has a look of rest and fair contentment ; yet the place must have been of no little importance in bygone times, for there is reason to believe that the Bishop of St. Davids had one of his seven palaces in this parish. Down in a hollow beside the stream stands the ancient parish church, dedicated to St. Decumanus, patron of springs and wells, who in olden times was held in high esteem for the cures effected at the bubbling rill hard by. This venerable church remains pretty much in its original con- dition, and presents a picturesque array of roofs and gables, clustering beneath its tall gray tower. The gable of the nave is crowned by a pretty bell-cot, which probably did duty prior to the erection of the tower. The latter is a stout old structure with ' battered ' or sloping walls, having both an inner and an outer roof of stone, and looking as though built with a view to defence. The north porch is unusually spacious. Its broad gable end is adorned with the arms of the Daws of Bangeston, and the badge of the Whites of Hentland, a notable family in bygone days, whose chapel is in the north transept. Alongside the arched doorway of the porch is a square-headed opening, supposed to have been used as an alms window, through which, in those easy-going times, the priest handed out the dole of bread, money or what not to his proteges. Our attention is next attracted by a diminutive figure surmounting the arch of the inner entrance. Upon closer inspection this archaic image appears to be seated, with the right hand raised in the attitude of benediction. It was rescued, we understand, many years ago from the iconoclastic restorers who were then working their will on Angle Church ; and was placed in its present position by the Rector of this parish. Upon entering into the sacred edifice, its picturesque proportions excite our admiration. Notwithstanding its modest dimensions the short transepts, curious angle passages and chancel with its pretty aisle, give a quaint, varied look to the low interior. The north wall of the chancel is adorned with a handsome. 88 NOOK'S AXD CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. crocketed canop)-, which terminates in a triplet of queer, sculptured faces symbolical of the Holy Trinity. This monument partly hides an ancient niche or aumbry, where the wafer was probably kept in pre-Reformation times. The adjacent south aisle has two canopied recesses ; under one of which reposes the handsome, though somewhat damaged, effigy of a lady, with a wimple over her chin such as is worn to this day in the northern part of the county. The wall above is pierced with a small piscina arch ; and the chamber is lighted by windows of very good Pembrokeshire type. This aisle is known as the Jestyn- ton Chapel, from the mansion of that ilk to which it still appertains ; and there is a tradition that Jestyn, Prince of South Wales, built the church ; '''':' placing it conveniently near to his own residence, though remote from the rest of the parish. Many other interesting features will reward a diligent search ; and the visitor who is curious in such matters will notice that the chancel arch has evidently been cut through from the earlier nave. The south doorway, abandoned in favour of the more sheltered north porch, affords a con- venient niche for the font ; while odd corners here and there conceal old tombstones, inscribed with quaint epitaphs or half- obliterated armorial scutcheons. In passing through the church\'ard, we examine a dilapidated cross, remarkable for a circular hole in the base supposed to have been used as a receptacle for contributions to the priest from his flock. Near the adjacent stile stands an ancient, upright stone inscribed with curious, illegible characters. A^ PKOaCK-efWifHER- CASTLE AfAKTIN. 89 At the little foot-bridge spanninj^ the stream, we halt to enjoy a pleasant retrospect of the time-honoured church, set amidst embower- ing trees, with a handful of lowly cottages scattered prettil}' around. Thence we push on by a footpath across the upland meadows ; climbing stone stiles, set in the turfy walls which do duty here as hedgerows. Gradually we ascend to the wind-swept plateau at Newton ; and if the ascent is easily won, it is none the less worth winning ; for it affords an ample outlook over land and sea, with the village of Castle Martin upon the rise of the opposite hill. Our track now becomes somewhat obscure, so we call in to inquire the way at the neighbouring blacksmith's shop ; when a soot-begrimed son of Vulcan, casting aside his hammer, good-naturedly pioneers us along an intricate by-wa}-, and points out the bearings for crossing the marsh}' valley. A wild enough place is this in winter-time, as our guide can testify ; where the ver}- haj-ricks have to be lashed secure to weather the fierce sou'-westers, which, under their steady impact, bend the trees into strange, distorted forms. Descending the rough braeside, we now make for a conspicuous old ash-tree, and thenceforward thread our way amidst the dykes and marshy levels of Castle Martin Corse. The tall steeple of Warren church, showing clear against the sky ahead, makes a serviceable landmark, until we strike the grassy track that leads across the marsh. Arrayed in sombre hues of russet red, rich browns and olive greens, the level strath is dotted with groups of horses and the black cattle for which the localit}' is famed, grazing knee-deep amidst waving sedges and lush green water-plants. As we advance, the lapwings (those lovers of loneh', unfrequented places), wheel and circle overhead, uttering their peculiarly plaintive pipe as they scan the unwelcome intruders. And now a hollow lane receives us, and keeps us company until, after passing a two-three humble tenements, we turn aside into the well-tended graveyard ; and so to the parish church of St. Michael, which stands in a little elbow of the hill overlooking the scattered dwellings of the hamlet. Castle Martin church has made so doughty a stand against the go NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. ravages of time that now, in its green old age, it presents an extremely picturesque appearance as we approach its weather-beaten portal. Before passing within, let us pause awhile to scan the features of this characteristic old Pembrokeshire church. ' >. Prominent in our view rises the gray limestone tower, whose / ■- ^TTrTi'""^"'' Cjhujech rugged, time-worn walls rise solidly to the corbelled battlements. These have louvred windows to the bell-chamber, and a quaint metal weather-vane atop ; to right and left range the lichen-clad roofs and walls of the main structure ; while a lofty and massive porch stands boldly out, enclosing a rambling stairway that leads to the tower. The CASTLE MARTIN. 91 foreground is occupied by crumbling headstones, wreathed in ivy and decked with flowering creepers ; and a shapely churchyard cross rises beside our pathw^ay. Nor does the interior of the church prove a whit less interesting. Here a group of graceful arches, with attached limestone shafts, gives access from the nave to the north aisle ; whence a skew arch, having detached pillars with capitals, opens into the chancel. The latter is flanked by similar arches enclosing pretty, traceried windows. The great south porch has a narrow doorway at some height in the side wall, giving access to a much-worn, straggling flight of steps. Scrambling up these we find ourselves in the tower, which, after the manner of the country, is massively constructed ; having grim vaulted chambers with many openings, like pigeon-holes, pierced in the solid walls. Here are also the bells, erected by John Rudhale, a.d. i8og. The font, though plain, is well proportioned and of early date. This curious old church is the head of the important parish and hundred of Castle Martin. The district is noted for its breed of black, long-horned cattle ; and in bygone days could boast its own troop of gallant yeomanry, who shared with the Fishguard Fencibles the dis- tinction of repelling the notorious French ' invasion ' of Pembrokeshire, a century ago. Leaving the quiet village to the care of an aged crone and a group of children playing with a lame magpie, we get under way again, and make for the crossways on the ridge. At this point the Ordnance map raises expectations of something of a ' castle,' which proves, however, to be nothing more than a prehistoric earthwork with mounds of circular form. Then onward again, passing Moor Farm, where once stood a goodly mansion, of which scarce a stone has been spared. Now we keep a straight course towards Warren, with the skylarks making music overhead ; while the voice of that ' interesting scamp,' the cuckoo, echoes from the woods down Brownslade way. Shortly before reaching Warren village the country lane widens out, with a corner of sedgy greensward under the hedgerow. Here stands a curious old wayside well, domed over with a sort of rude 92 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMRROKESHfRE. canopy, whose mossy stones, friofjed with hartstongue fern, are reflected in the clear water ; indeed, from the frequent recurrence of springs and draw-wells, it would seem that St. Dccumanus, their patron, was held in high esteem in these parts. At Warren we call a halt to refresh the ' inner man ;' then lounge awhile in a shady nook, for a chat and a quiet pipe. Towards the cool of evening we bear away for distant Pem- broke, by the road that leads past Orielton, where we are on familiar ground which has been touched upon in describing a previous route. A WAV^itE Wee.!, CHAPTER VI. CAREW, WITH ITS CROSS, CASTLE AND CHURCH. UPTON CASTLE AND CHAPEL. PEMBROKE DOCK AND HAVERFORDWEST. 'TTPIIIMC^ I'OKTH by the morning train, we } Ji 11 HUM V3 aii„ht at Lamphey Station ; whence we make our way to the grand old ruins of Carew Castle, as our piece de resistance for to-day. Once free of Lamphey village, we soon find ourselves striding across the Ridgeway by Lamphey Park ; whence !™\ we get a pretty retrospect, under some weatherbeaten trees, of the pleasant vale we have quitted, with a more distant peep of the towers of Pembroke Castle. Here, too, we find a few [l| traces of olden times in a group of gray, weather-stained ^\| farm-buildings ; remnants, maybe, of Bishop Vaughan's famous grange. At Rambler's Folly, on the crest of the ridge, we get the first glimpse of our destination, down in the valley below ; with a background of open country rolling upward to the distant hills ; while, by taking the trouble to cross over the road, we command the broad plain of the sea. A shepherd with collie-dog at heel, driving his flock to pasture, now puts us in the way of a short-cut across the meadows. This woodland path is enlivened by a bevy of butterflies that, like ourselves, are taking the morning air. Here floats a stately ' peacock,' while yonder sprightly Atalanta, perched upon a spray of woodbine, displays her becoming toilette of scarlet and glossy black, edged with daintiest lace. Approaching our destination, we skirt around a marshy watercourse 14 94 A'OOK'S AND CORA'KkS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. abloom with yellow flags, orchids and gay pink campion. Ere long a flight of stepping-stones lands us in the village, right abreast of Carew church, a noble old structure with handsome traceried windows, and a tower such as one rarely sees in this locality. A picturesque old building with pointed windows, that was formerly the village school, adds a pretty feature to the churchyard. But we must push on to the castle, reserving these minor matters for future in- vestigation. Half a mile of hard highroad ensues, when, just before the castle gate is reached, our attention is absorbed by an object standing upon the steep bank, hard by the road. This is Carew Cross, a hoary monu- ment before whose patriarchal antiquitj- the ruined castle is little better than a mere parvenu. The huge monolith of lichen-clad stone terminates in a circular head enclosing a Celtic cross ; while each of the four sides is richly overlaid with deeph'-incised patterns, carved in that curious, interlacing fashion peculiar to these early monuments. The date of its erection is placed as far back as the ninth centurj- : upon its eastern face is seen a rudely-fashioned cross, each limb of which is formed by three deeply-cut lines ; while the reverse side is inscribed with certain archaic characters, which some ingenious antiquary has interpreted thus : The cross of the son of Ilteut the son of Ecett. CAA'EIV CASTLE. 95 Having completed the sketch of Carew Cross, which figures on the opposite page, we now pass on to view the wonders of the castle. Carew Castle is located in a district which from verj- early times formed a royal appanage of the princes of South Wales. It was pre- sented as a marriage dower with the fair Nesta, daughter of Rhys ap Tydwr, to Gerald de Windsor, the King's castellan, in the reign of Henry I. This great demesne was subsequentl)- mortgaged by Sir Edward de Carew to the gallant Sir Rhj-s ap Thomas, by whom the castle appears to have been largely remodelled. Here it was that this doughty Welshman entertained his liege the Earl of Richmond, on his way from Milford to victorious Bosworth field ; placing the royal arms, in memory of the event, upon a chimney-piece in the chamber where ' the hope of England ' slept. In olden times Carew Castle was surrounded bj- an extensive chase, or deer park. Here in 1507 Sir Rhys ap Thomas held 'a solemn just and turnament for the honour of St. George, patrone of that noble Order of the Garter,' when Henr}' VII. honoured the revels with his presence. A full account of this 'princelie fete' has been preserved, setting forth how ' manie valerouse gentlemen ' then made trial of their abilities ' in feates of armes, the men of prime Ranke being lodged within the Castle, others of good Qualitie in tents and Pavilions, pitched in the Parke.' This ' Festivall and time of jollytie' commenced on the day dedi- cated to ' the trustie Patrone and protector of Marshalistes,' and continued for five whole days ; the tournament taking place on the fourth day, when Sir William Herbert was the challenger, the lord of Carew playing the judge's part. To the credit of all concerned it is recorded that, throughout all these 'justes and turnaments, seasoned with a diversitie of musicke for the honoure of Ladyes,' in spite of ' knockes valerouslie received and manfullie bestowed, among a thousand people there was not one Quarrell, crosse worde or tmkinde Looke, that happened betweene them.' Wonderful stories were told of the feats of arms performed by the doughty Sir Rhys ap Thomas ; insomuch that for years after his day 96 JVUOk'S ANU CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. the name of Sir Rhys ap Thomas was ' used about Terwin as a bugg- beare or fire Abbaas, such as Talbott's was in Henrie the Sixt's time, to affright the children from doing shrewd Trickes.' It is related how Sir Rhvs, iiKjunted on his veteran charger Grey Fetlocks, contrived to run the impostor Perkin Warbeck to earth at the monastery of Beaulieu, in Hampshire ; and was rewarded for this gallant service by receiving the Order of the Garter from his sovereign. At the Battle of the Spurs this stout-hearted warrior led the light horse and archers against the enem\', and took the Duke of Longueville prisoner with his own hands. Shortly after this event, having attained the age of threescore years, this brave old knight at last hung up his well-worn weapons in his Castle of Carew. Sir Rhys spent his declining days in extending and beautifying the stately fabric ; calling in to his aid, we may be sure, the advice of his friend and neighbour the talented Bishop Vaughan, then dwelling at Lamphey Palace. Finally, after considerably over- passing the allotted span, Sir Rh\'s ap Thomas was gathered to his fathers in the year of grace 1527. Meanwhile, traversing a broad green meadow, we approach the ivy-wreathed walls and turrets of the castle. This magnificent edifice is built around a large central courtj-ard. It has a huge bastion at each corner and displays, even in its dismantled condition, a most interesting combination of military and domestic architecture. Before us rises the gate-house, probably the oldest portion of the present building. An adjacent tower contains the chapel, dating from Edwardian times and retaining its groined ceiling ; and in one of the upper chambers we notice a fireplace bearing what appear to be the arms of Spain. The fragment of a graceful oriel is seen high aloft in the wall as we pass under the barbican tower, a massive structure with vaulted archways, portcullis and machicolated battlements. We now emerge upon the inner courtyard of the castle, whose broad expanse of velvety turf is overshadowed on every side by gray old limestone walls, pierced with pointed doorways and many-mullioned windows. CAREIV CASTLE. 97 The most prominent feature here is the ivy-clad portal of the banqueting-hall. This picturesque structure rises through two stories, -and is adorned with some crumbling scutcheons, charged with the insignia of Henry of Richmond and of Sir Rhj-s ap Thomas ; combined with the hoary, time-worn architecture of the banqueting-hall, the whole forms a charming subject for the artist's pencil. h ^S^UK^[ JPW lijfreB The banqueting-hall itself must have been a magnificent apartment. It still shows traces of rich Gothic ornamentation in the deep recesses of its arched windows, doorways and huge fireplaces ; while the spring- ing of the open-timbered roof can be readily discerned. In another direction is seen the incomparable range of lofty, muUioned windows of the broad north front. This grandiose facade was begun, but never 98 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. completed, by Sir John Perrot : it contains a sumptuous state-room, over 100 feet in length, and numerous smaller apartments. An hour vanishes in next to no time as we ramble amidst these echoing chambers, and clamber up and down the broken stairways. Here we pry into some deep, dark dungeon ; yonder, peer through a narrow lancet ; and anon mount to the crumbling battlements, to the no small dismay of a host of jackdaws that haunt these ruined walls. Meanwhile imagination re-peoples these deserted halls and desolate ••^.' chambers with those throngs of faire ladyes, and gallant knights and squires, those troops of servitors and men-at-arms, and all the countless on-hangers that w^ent to swell the princely menage of its mediaeval masters. Presently we pass out again, to wander around the brave old fortress and mark the gaping breaches wrought by Cromwell's cannon, what time the beleaguered garrison fought for King Charles I., holding out long and valiantly until, Tenby having succumbed, Carew at length CAREIV CHURCH. 99 fell a prize to the Parliamentar)' arms. The accompanying sketch shows that most of the south front has been demolished, thus giving us a glimpse of the internal courtyard and a portion of the lofty northern facade. Upon quitting the castle we stroll across the neighbouring bridge, whence we obtain a noble view of the great north front with its lofty oriels and vast, mullioned windows reflected in the shallow waters of the tideway. Our appearance upon the scene disturbs a meditative heron, who, pulling himself together, spreads his broad wings and stretches away in leisurely flight to more secluded quarters. Pausing as we pass for another glance at the ancient Cross, we now retrace our steps to the vil- lage to complete our investi- gations there. Arrived at the church, we prowl around that sacred edifice ; noting its lofty Per- pendicular tower, fine tra- ceried windows and stair- turret surmounted by a low spirelet; then we pass within, and proceed to look about us. The interior of Carew Church is unusually lofty and spacious, comprising nave with aisles, chancel and transepts. Lofty, well-pro- portioned limestone arches open into the latter, their piers embellished with the four-leaved flower that marks the artistic influence of Bishop Gower. The chancel contains a pretty sedilia and piscina, arched in the wall; while an adjacent niche is tenanted by a curious little figure carved in stone, and supposed to commemorate a certain boy-bishop, elected, according to a quaint old custom, from amongst his fellow- choristers. Be that as it may, we now turn to the opposite wall where, beneath loo NOOA'S AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. plain, pointed recesses repose the figures of an ecclesiastic habited as a monk, and a knight in armour, sword in hand and shield upon arm, legs crossed at the knees, and head and feet supported by carven animals. The latter is a finely-executed piece of sculpture, and withal remarkable from the disproportionate size of the head, which is twisted in a X- over the right ner shoulder — perhaps a personal trait com- mitted to marble. Whom these figures represent is not precisely known, but we may reason- ably hazard the con- ^ jecture that this mail-clad effigy re- presents some for- gotten scion of the noble family of Carew, erstwhile lords of this place. The ancient tiles upon the chancel floor are also worthy of notice, displaying the emblems of the bishopric with the arms of Sir Rhys^ap Thomas, the Tudor rose, and various other devices. Having completed our survey of this interesting church, we next make our way to a curious-looking structure known as the Old Rectory. Though now a mere farm-house the place bears traces of considerable antiquity, and appears, like many of the older dwellings in this locality, "?-/.i:v'£^p UPTON CASTLE. lOI to have been built with an eye to defence. The massive walls are corbelled out beneath the eaves of the roof, which is pitched at a steep angle, giving the old structure a picturesque appearance. The house has apparently been formerly enclosed within a walled precinct ; and a fast-fading tradition tells vaguely of ' the soldiers ' having been quartered here in the turbulent days of old. But it is high time to be up and away, so pulling ourselves together we face the slanting sunlight, and put the best foot foremost en route for Upton Castle. After passing the grounds of Milton House, we follow the Pem- ^-^: 5-in*-!f%-**l 11'''^'^ > /y^. '^^.v broke road for about a mile and a half, until, just short of the finger- post, we strike into a hollow lane that leads direct to Upton. The latter part of the way goes through a shady avenue, affording glimpses of the winding Haven and the broad, gray front of Carew Castle. Upton Castle is undoubtedly of very ancient origin, but it has been restored and rendered habitable of late years, and is now occupied as a dwelling-house. The original gateway, with its double arch, is flanked by tall round towers pierced with loopholes for archery, and is crowned 15 I02 NOOAS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. by corbelled battlements. A small old building beside the neighbouring creek was probabl}' used as a guard-house or watch-tower. Within the castle grounds stands Upton Chapel, a lowly structure of no architectural pretensions, yet containing several objects well worthy of notice. Opposite the entrance is the fine mural monument seen on the left of our sketch. The figure beneath the canopy is supposed to represent one of the Malefants, an extinct family that for several centuries made a considerable figure in this and the adjacent counties. The knight is clad in a complete suit of mail, having a chain around the neck, with the hands folded in the attitude of prayer. The upper portion of the monument bears traces of colour and decoration, while the canted ends are adorned with carven figures beneath dainty canopies. A curious if not unique feature is the candelabrum, in the form of a clenched fist, that projects from the adjacent wall. This singular object is fashioned from a piece of j-ellow limestone, and is pierced with a hole to contain the candle formerly used at funerals and other ceremonies. It appears probable that the worthy knight whose effigy lies near may have left a small pension for the maintenance of this candelabrum. The handsome Jacobean pulpit was originally in St. Mary's Church at Haverfordwest, whence it was acquired by purchase during the restoration of that edifice. Upon passing through the small, plain chancel arch, we espy a huge, dilapidated effigy in a corner by the south wall. Though bereft of half its lower limbs, the figure still measures fully six feet in length. This image is clad in a complete suit of chain-mail, and is considered to be the most ancient of its kind in the county. To its history we have no clue, but tradition avers that this rude specimen of the sculptor's art represents a certain ' tall Ammiral " of bygone times, Lord of Upton Castle, who, returning from distant voyagings, was wrecked and cast lifeless ashore almost within sight of home. A stone let into the chancel pavement shows the tonsured head of an ecclesiastic, with a floreated cross and damaged inscription. Within UPTON CHAPEL. 103 the Communion-rails we observe a female figure, draped from head to foot in flowing robes and lying under an ogee canopy. Though devoid of any distinctive badge this figure is well executed, and in a very fair state of preservation. £S3R Sfc«ES«KI. Upon the south side of the chapel, and close to the entrance-door, rises the small stone cross figured at the end of this chapter. It is raised upon a sort of basement constructed of masonry overgrown with vegetation, and is approached by rough stone steps. I04 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. We now retrace our steps to the highroad, and at the fingerpost bear to the left. Just beyond the old toll-gate we pass near a house called Holyland, so named from the fact that its stones were drawn from the ruins of an ancient hospital, dedicated to St. Mary Magdalene, which formerly existed at Pembroke. As we traverse the King's Bridge, at the head of the tidal water, the clamour of the ' many-wintered crows,' winging their homeward flight to a neighbouring spinny, falls pleasantly on our ears. Thus we re- enter the quiet street of Pembroke, while the arrowy swifts, wheeling around St. Mary's timeworn steeple, fill the air with their shrill, piercing cries. Finally we round off the day's adventures by climbing the castle walls, whence the eye traces all the familiar landmarks standing clear- cut against a glowing sky, with a broad span of the fast-empurpling landscape, locked in a silvery reach of the winding Haven. ****** Beside the deep, untroubled waters of Milford Haven, there has grown up within the present century one of the finest and most com- plete shipbuilding establishments around our coasts. Here were con- structed those hearts of oak that bore our flag so bravely in days of yore ; and hence are nowadays turned out the leviathan ' battleships ' that will bear the brunt of Britain's future wars upon the vasty deep. Lord Nelson was, we believe, one of the first to point out the peculiar advantages offered by Milford as a constructing yard for the British navy. In the first years of the present centurj-, the Government rented an existing yard at Milford for a term of fourteen years ; after which, being unable to come to terms with Lady Mansfield's representatives, the authorities caused the establishment to be removed to the opposite side of the Haven. Thus arose the modern town of Pembroke Dock ; and from these modest beginnings the place has continued to increase, both in size and importance, down to the present daj'. In spite of its remoteness from the manufacturing districts, whence most of the tools, materials, etc., have to be brought, the work is turned PEMBROKE DOCK. 105 out in a style that would do credit to any establishment, by as steady, thrifty a set of men as is to be found in any Government yard. The workmen dwell in rows of neat cottages, forming a small town at the rear of the slipways. Though unpicturesque enough, these modest dwellings appear clean and sanitary, although unfortunately still lack- ing that prime necessity, a constant supply of pure water. The adjacent hill is crowned by a heavily-armed redoubt, while many a vantage-point of the winding waterway is so strongly fortified that, should an enemy endeavour to force a passage, he would probably experience a mauvais quart d'hcurc in the warm welcome prepared for him. From Pembroke a short run by train, and a ten minutes' walk through dull, workaday streets lands us at the dockyard gates. Before passing through, a constable politely relieves the visitors of such parlous impedimenta as fusees, lucifer matches and the like in- flammables. Thence we are handed on to a stalwart sergeant, who without more ado pioneers us around the constructing sheds. Work is now in full swing, and the ring of riveters' hammers and clang of resonant metal combine, with a thousand other ear-splitting sounds, to swell an uproar fit to awaken the Seven Sleepers. By dint of stentorian shouting, our cicerone explains the various details of construction ; now descanting on the special merits of a swift ' torpedo-catcher,' anon describing the internal economy of a half- completed gunboat. Meanwhile weird, Rembrandtesque effects of light and shade are seen on every side, as the men ply their heavy labour in the gloom of the iron-ribbed hull. Thence we pass onward to a gigantic shed, lofty as a cathedral, with its forefoot planted in the sea. Here the rudimentary ribs of a huge ironclad swell upward from the keel-plate, resembling the skeleton of some antediluvian monster of the deep. Farther on we come to long ranges of spacious workshops, crammed with machinery of the latest types propelled by engines both ancient and modern. By means of these, thick metal plates and beams are shaped and fashioned as easily as wood in a carpenter's shop. Here lies io6 JVOOkS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. a massive bronze casting weighing many tons, destined to form the ram of H.M.S. Renown; yonder a metal plane shaves off golden spirals, much like the ' corkscrew ' curls of other days, from a plate of solid brass. In another direction a strapping mechanic is bringing a steel plate to the requisite curve, by means of herculean blows from a heavy sledge. Pass we now to the iron foundry, where a gang of workmen are about to draw the glowing metal from the furnace. The scintillating mass is hitched on to a movable crane, and borne away to be manipu- lated between a pair of massive metal rollers. After several successive squeezes, it emerges in the form of a huge armour plate. Now, too, the Nasmyth hammer is much en evidence, its mighty strokes shaking the solid ground as we approach ; yet so docile is the monster that the engineer cracks a nut beneath it, to the no small astonishment of the \isitors. Nor must we omit a peep at the wood- working shops, where the circular saw sings at its work the live- long day, shearingthe roughest logs into comely planks with wonderful precision, while skilful hands fashion and frame the various parts required. All these multifarious handicrafts, carried on in extensive and m- flammable structures, necessitate an efficient fire-extinguishing appa- ratus. This is maintained in a separate building, and is kept in apple- pie order, ever ready to fight the flames in case of an outbreak of the devouring element. ****** Resuming our peregrinations ' in search of the picturesque,' we now bid farewell to the county-town of Pembroke. At Hobb's Point a grimy little steamboat, that years ago plied on the Thames, ferries the •traveller across to the railway pontoon at New Milford, whence we entrain en route for Haverfordwest. fteeM Vp-pgiiM CnAT&i,. LUCY WALTERS. 107 Rail and river keep companj- for a time through a pleasant, un- dulating country, with copsewood feathering down to the water's edge. Presently we pass close to Kosemarket, a primitive -looking village where, in the days of the Stuarts, dwelt a certain fair maid named Lucy Walters. Here at the age of seventeen 'that browne, beautifull.bold but insipid creature,' as Evelyn calls her, was discovered by the gay Prince Charlie, who was so fascinated by the young lady's charms that he bore her away with him in his cavalcade. Lucy's grandfather it is said constructed a fine genealogical tree, in which that gay lady figures as ' married to King Charles y'' Seconde of England.' The house where Lucy Walters' father lived has long since dis- appeared, the only relics of that period being probably the old stone pigeon-house east of the village, and the parish cockpit ! Our sketch of the famous beauty is copied from a contemporarj- portrait, brought from Dale Castle, whither the Walters family removed from their earlier home. It is now in the possession of a gentleman residing near Pembroke, who has kindly allowed us to make the accompanying copy. io8 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. The next station is Johnston, where we will break our journey and take a peep at the church, whose steeple we descry as the train ap- proaches the station. The little structure stands, with a few cottages grouped around it, at a corner of the lanes ; and its gray, time-worn stones make a pretty picture amidst their setting of fresh green foliage. At the western end of the church rises a small but ancient tower, with roof fast falling to decay. The lower part is solid, but towards the top it is pierced with a quartette of graceful, traceried windows, of which three have been blocked up ; while the only bell the church could boast lies broken in two on the stone floor. Small as it is, the church has shallow projecting bays, or chapels, after the manner of double transepts. Between them rises the chancel arch, devoid of features save a quaint, square-headed opening on either side, enclosing two small pointed arches. The interior, with its two-decker pulpit, simple box -pews and ancient font, has a quiet, old-world look; and the chancel, raised one lO § 1 r HA VERFORD 1 1 'ES T. 1 09 Step only above the body of the church, contains a double sedilia, a small piscina and a few other early features. Rumour hath it that the ' restorer,' save the mark ! already lays his plans for the undoing of this interesting structure. However, as the attention of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings has been given to the subject, we may hope that their praiseworthy efforts to maintain the ancient features of this church, in their un- restored simplicity, will eventuall}- be crowned with success. A long league's trudge still separates us from Haverfordwest ; so we breast the easy slope of Drudgeman's Hill, and presently descend to Merlin's Bridge, spanning an affluent of the Cleddau. A scattered group of cottages that overlooks the stream bears some slight traces of the chapel that formerly stood here. A kind of Vanity Fair was formerly held in the vicinity, when the country folk foregathered at Cradock's Well, a wonder-working spring frequented by a hermit who had his cell at Haroldstone. The Perrots of Haroldstone were great people in their time. Here dwelt the gallant Sir John Perrot, Lord Deputy of the Sister Isle in good Queen Bess's reign ; also Sir Herbert of that ilk, the contempo- rary and friend of Addison, who is said to have been the original of that pink of courtesy, the incomparable Sir Roger de Coverley. We now make a short detour to visit the ruins of Haverfordwest Priory, which stand in a meadow close beside the Cleddau. Though of considerable extent, there is not much to detain us here save a mass of crumbling arches and ivy-mantled walls, apparently of Early Enghsh date. This priory was established about the year 1200 by Robert de Haverford, first Lord of Haverfordwest, for the Order of Black Canons. It stands in one of those pleasant, riverside nooks that the monks of old so frequently selected. The massive tower of St. Thomas's Church, crowning the brow of an adjacent hill, forms a conspicuous feature in our general view of the town. Though much modernized, this church contains one relic of the past that must on no account be overlooked. Upon the pavement of the north aisle is preserved an ancient slab no .VOOAS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. of limestone, whose battered surface is carved in low relief with a beautiful, foliated cross, terminating in trefoils ; beside the cross is an object resemblinf,' a palm branch, and a closer inspection reveals, incised upon the edge of the stone, the legend: F kicakd le paumek G\k ICI DEU DE SAALME EIT MERCI AMEN. ■ According to the verdict of the antiquaries, this curious monu- ment records a certain brother Richard the Palmer, who, in days so remote as the time of Giraldus Cambrensis, journeyed as a pilgrim to Rome ; or it may be joined as a recruit in the Crusade of Bishop Baldwin. Up in the tower we discover a brace of fine old bells, the larger Have RFOK-BwasT . one bearing the motto sanctus gabriel oka pro nobis ; the smaller, or sanctus bell, geve thankes to god, t. w. 1585. This church was formerly a possession of the Parrots of Harold- stone, until in Queen Elizabeth's reign the Crown became, as it has ever since remained, the patron of the living. Let us glance back into the past as we stroll through the clean, bustling streets of the little Western metropolis. From the earliest times Haverfordwest held a position second only in importance to that of Pembroke, as a bulwark of The Little England beyond Wales. Its castle, built by Gilbert de Clare, first Earl of Pembroke, stood HA I 'ERFORD WEST. 1 1 1 as a protection to the English settlement against the incursions of the hardy mountaineers, who had been driven back by the advancing im- migrants upon the wild hill fastnesses of the interior. The lofty walls of Gilbert's ruined castle, dominating the town that clusters around its feet, and the mediaval churches that rise J&HB'P iiM'^k^ amidst its steep, paved streets, recall the vanished pYC9.iigc of Haver- fordwest ; while a characteristic vein of local dialect, which lingers yet despite of Board Schools, attests the foreign ancestry of some of the worthy townsfolk. Curiously enough, Haverfordwest forms a county all to itself; 112 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. and is further distinguished by the fact that, alone amongst the towns of Great Britain, the place boasts a Lord-Lieutenant all its own, a privilege obtained from the Crown by a very early charter^ when Pembrokeshire was a County Palatine. The town formerly returned its own member to Parliament, but of late the representation has been merged in the districts of Pembroke, Tenby and Haverfordwest. But it is time to look about us, so we now make our way to St. Mary's church, in the centre of the town. Contrasted with the primitive structures we have seen in the country parishes, this is a noble church indeed, having been in large part constructed during the best period of Gothic architecture. The lofty nave is covered with a flat wooden ceiling, relieved by enriched bosses at the intersections of the beams, and upborne by handsome brackets against the walls. It is connected with the adjacent aisle by a series of richly-moulded arches, supported upon tall clustered pillars. On the north side of the chancel stands a group of thirteenth- century pillars and arches of still more elaborate character, whose capitals are encrusted with a variety of grotesque figures intertwined amongst deeply-cut foliage. Handsome traceried windows admit a flood of light into the chancel, whose walls display monuments and epitaphs of no little beauty and interest. In a remote untended corner of the church lies the mutilated effigy of an ecclesiastic, whose sober livery, and wallet embellished with scallop-shells, mark him as a pilgrim who has crossed the seas to the shrine of St. James of Compostella, in Spain. Passing out by the north porch, we observe a pair of tall, carved bench-ends, on one of which St. George is seen in combat with a triple- headed dragon. A sketch of this bench-end will be found at the head of Chapter XII. After glancing at St. Martin's, the mother church of Haverford- HA VERFORD J VES T. 113 west, with its slender, crooked spire, \vc turn townvvards again as dusk creeps on, and come to anchor at the Mariners Hotel. The old- fashioned hospitality of this comfortable inn is a welcome relief after a long day's tramp, so we cannot do better than make it our headquarters while exploring the surrounding country. : a homely inn and a handful of lodging-houses] clambering up the rear- ward hill, form the sum total of this most diminutive of watering-places. Ii8 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. Seawards the hamlet is begirt by ruddy sandstone cliffs of moderate heif^ht, the rocky strata being twisted into the most curious contortions, and pierced with caverns and crannies frequented by bathers and picnic parties. The firm dry sands, exposed at low tide, afford a pleasant sea- side stroll to the more spacious shores of Broad Haven. After calling a halt for a sketch of Little Haven, we up sticks and away, pursuing a south-westerly course by a road that climbs high above the rock-bound coast. Far below us lies a picturesque cove, with a rude flight of steps, hewn from the rock, leading to a landing-place used by the fisher-folk. After passing Talbenny Church, we approach St. Brides, and obtain the pretty coup d'ceil represented in the accompanying sketch: the church and old-fashioned rectory -house nestling under the lee of some wind -tossed trees, while Lord Kensington's fine residence of St. Brides Hill shows clearly out against the dark wood- lands that crest the western down. To the right is seen a glimpse of the tiny haven, famous in bygone times for its productive herring fishery. The little structure close beside the water occupies the site of an old fishermen's chapel, which, falling into ruins, was put to the degenerate uses of a salt-house. From that time forth, as the old story runs, the herrings deserted their accustomed haunts, and the fishing trade dwindled away : ' When St. Bride's Chapel a saU-housc was made, St. Bride's lost the herring trade.' The parish church is interesting, and has a bright, wcll-cared-for look that is pleasant to see. Upon the floor of a small north transept lie four sadly defaced effigies. The largest of these is reputed to represent St. Bride, the patron saint of the church, a contemporary of St. David and St. Patrick. According to tradition, St. Bride sailed over with certain devout women from Ireland, and established a nunnery here. A short distance south-east from the church rise the ivy-mantled ruins of some extensive buildings of unknown origin, overshadowed by dark trees and surrounded by lofty stone walls pierced with loopholes, while an arched gateway opens towards the west. ^ ORLANDO X. 119 Upon leaving St. Brides, we strike directly inland by the Dale road. This brings us in about a quarter of an hour to Orlandon, where the skeleton of a large old mansion rises grimly above a group of wayside cottages. In its palmy days Orlandon was the home of the Laugharnes, a family of some celebrit\' in their time, but now extinct in this locality. According to a romantic storj-, the first member of this family who appeared in this district was shipwrecked and washed up more dead than alive on the seashore not far away. Here he was found by the daughter and heiress of Sir John de St. Brides, who caused him to be carried to her father's house, where he was hospitably entertained. Laugharne, of course, was soon over head and ears in love with his fair deliverer, and the lady being in nowise backward in response to his suit, they married and founded a family whose descendants resided for generations at Orlandon. Another mile brings us to Mullock Bridge, where a long causeway traverses a marshy backwater of the Haven. Anent this same bridge a quaint story is related concerning Sir Rhys ap Thomas of Carew. Having registered a vow before the King that Henry of Richmond 16 I20 NOOKS AND CORNERS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. should not ascend the throne save over his body, the crafty knight fulfilled his word by crouching beneath the arch of Mullock bridge while Henry rode across it. A glance at the map suggests a short detour to obtain a peep at Marloes. The sandy lane, meandering beside a streamlet, lands us right abreast of the church at the entrance to the village. The little edifice makes a pleasant picture, with a handful of low thatched cottages grouped around. Inside we find the small pointed chancel arch with projecting wings, characteristic of the churches in this locality. There are some curious features here, notably an old bronze sanctus bell, and a modern baptistery sunk in a corner of the floor, to meet the predilections of the Welsh churchman, who does not apparently consider the ceremony of baptism complete unless he can 'goo throw the watter.' Dwelling apart from the busier haunts of men, the good folk of this remote parish have kept prett\- much to themselves, and have acquired the reputation of being a simple-minded, superstitious race — ' Marloes gulls,' as the saying is. In order to save the long Saturday's tramp to Haverford market, a Marloes man hit upon the ingenious device of walking half the distance on Friday, then returning home he would complete the rest of the walk the next day ! In the ' good old times," if tales be true, these Marloes people were notorious wreckers. On dark tempestuous nights they would hitch a lanthorn to a horse's tail, and drive the animal around the seaward cliffs ; then woe betide the hapless mariner who should set his course by this Fata Morgana ! There is a story of the parson who, when the ! MARLOES. 121 news of a wreck goi abroad in church one Sunday morning, broke off' his discourse and exclaimed, ' Wait a moment, my brethren, and give your pastor a fair start !' Another mile of crooked, crankling lanes takes us to the brow of the sea cliffs, whence we obtain a bird's-eye panorama of the broad sweep of Marloes sands. Ruddy sandstone rocks pitched at a steep angle encompass the bay, and peep grimly out from beneath the smooth, firm sands. Gateholm rises close in shore, an island at low tide only ; the broad mass of Skokholm stretches out to sea, while the horizon line is broken by the lonely islet of Grassholm, a favourite haunt of sea birds, and scene of a notorious ' massacre of the innocents ' by a party of yachts- men, some few years ago. The frequent recurrence of these holms and other place-names of Scandinavian origin, points unmistakeably to the presence of those old sea rovers around the Pembrokeshire coast, in the days of ' auld langsyne.' Making our way to the farm called Little Marloes, we push on through heathy byways, approaching the coast again at West Dale Bay. Now we catch a glimpse of Dale Castle, with the village of that ilk nestling under the lee of a dark wood, and harvest-fields crowning the 122 A'OOAS AND COAW/tA'S OF PEM liROK ESHIRE. sunny hillside, while a silvery stretch of the Haven lies in the back- ground. Dale Castle appears to have been a place of some importance from very early times, though of its history we have but meagre records. In the year 1293 Robertus de Vale granted a charter for a weekly market at his manor-house of Vale, and here Sir Rhys ap Thomas entertained his future King after his landing at Mill Bay upon the adjacent coast. This village of Dale is still a comely-looking spot, where the pleasant country residences of the gentlefolk rub shoulders with a /*\ARi<