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THE LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
LIBRARY
Ew*TY nr CALIFORNIA
OS ANGELES
SECOND
WALK THROUGH WALES,
BY THE
Rev*. Richard Warner,
OF BATH.
IN
AUGUST AND SEPTEMBER 1798.
' Creation's tenant! all the world is thine.
SECOND EDITION.
BATH, PRINTED BY R. CRUTTWELL;
AND SOLD BY
G. G. AND J.ROBINSON, PATER-NOSTER-ROW, LONDOS.
180O.
ADVERTISEMENT
TO
THE SECOND EDITION.
THE flattering, though perhaps unde-
served, success the i Second Walk through
Wales' has experienced, in the rapid sale of a
numerous impression, induces the Author to
offer a second edition to the public. This, he
trusts, will be found to be still more deserving
notice than the former one, as he has availed
himself in it of the obliging hints of some
friends, which have enabled him to correct a
few little mistakes and inaccuracies occurring
in the first edition.
BATH, JANUARY 1880.
17271
JAMES COMRIE,, ESQ.
MY DEAR SIR,
YOU are aware, that we must not
always estimate the friendship of the do-
nor by the intrinsic worth of the gift that
he presents. A mite, you know, has been
made the vehicle of gratitude and affection,
In this light, I trust, you will consider the
trifle which I now request you to accept;
not (to use a legal phrase) as a valuable
consideration for disinterested kindness and
active friendship, but as a token of the re-
gard and esteem I must ever feel and ex-
press, for the many weighty obligations
which you have conferred on,
Dear Sir,
Your faithful
And obedient servant,
R. WARNER.
BATH,
FEB. 20, 1799.
ITINERARY
Mile,.
From Bath to New-Passage ........................... 23
Over the Severn ................................. 3
To Cardiff, by Caerphilly ........................... 39
Cowbridge ....................................... 12
Pyle, by Llantwit, &c. ........................ 17
Neath ............................................. 12
Pont-Neath-Fechan ........................... 2O - /
Ystrad-y-Feldta, by the Cascades, &c. ...... 12
Brecon ...................................... ..... 16
Rhaiddar-Gowy ................ ................. 33
. Pentre, by Cwm-Elan ........................ 21 -
Devil's-Bridge, by Hafod ..................... 6 /-
Aberystwith, by the Vale of Ryddol ...... 19 /
Machynleth, over mountains .................. 25
Mallwyd ................. : ........................ 12
Bala ...................... ......................... 26 --
Ruthin .......................................... 21
Holywell, by Denbigh, Caerwys, &c. 21 -
za. Flint, by Downing, &c. ........................ 10 2
Chester ..... &*' .............................. 18 2
363
Brought over 343
To Caerwys 26
Conway 29
Bangor 15
Amlwch, over ferry, and by Beaumaris 27
Plas-Gwyn 18
Caernarvon 13
Pen-morva 24
Barmouth 2O
Dolgelly 10
Aberystwith 30
Aberavon < 16
Cardigan 25
Eglwyswrw 9
Narberth 15
Tenby 10
Caermarthen . 28
Swansea 26
Bristol, by water 67
Bath < 12
Total 783
Llanvair
Caerwent
LETTER I.
To J C , ESQ.
Newport, Aug. Jib, 1798,
ONCE more, my dear sir, I address you
from the land of the Ancient Britons.
The gratification which I received last year in
rambling through a country as remarkable for
the beauty, grandeur, and sublimity of its
scenery, as it is interesting from the kindness
of heart and simplicity of manners which
charafterize its inhabitants, determined me to
avail myself of an opportunity that occasional
leisure afforded me, of repeating my visit to it
this autumn.
In J n and C. C 11 I have found
companions every way calculated to render the
expedition agreeable. The warm, benevolent
t 4 J
mind of the one, alive to the beauties of
nature, with taste to admire, and judgment
to discriminate; and the spirit and vivacity of
the other, who, to the ardour of seventeen,
adds the reflection of maturer years, and unites,
with a vigorous understanding, the advantages
of much acquired knowledge, ensure a society
in which I shall find amusement blended with
information.
We commenced our journey yesterday
morning; but, rather unwisely, performed the
first four and twenty miles of it (to the New-
Passage) on foot; which occupied so large a
portion of the day as rendered it impossible
for us to pass the Severn the same evening,
and obliged us, much against our inclination,
to spend the night at an inn not exactly cal-
culated for the comfortable accommodation of
pedestrians. Very different indeed is the recep-
tion which a wanderer of this description
meets with, at the houses of public resort, in
Wales and England. In the former he is re-
ceived with an alacrity, and attended with a
cheerfulness, that really transfers the obliga-
tion from the host to the traveller. In the
latter, he discerns the curl of contempt in
every face 3 the contagion of pride seems to
t * I
ramify through all the departments of the
houshold, and descends from the master to
the lowest menial attached to his establish-
ment ; the waiter, when by accident he an-
swers your bell, does it in a manner as if he
were conferring an honour by his attention;
and the boot-jack himself looks as if he thought
he degraded his office, by taking charge of
your shoes.
Having crossed the Severn early this morn-
ing, and breakfasted in Monmouthshire, we
took the road to Caerwent, through which the
route of this day passed. You are already
acquainted with this place, as I attempted
some account of it in my correspondence with
you last year, and will, perhaps, recollect, that
I then gave myself the credit of deserving a
civic crown., for having, probably, saved an .old
woman from destruction, who had been sus-
pefted of bewitching a boy of the village.* I
still felt interested in the fate of this harmless
Canidia, as well as for the lad who was sup-
posed to have been affecled by her spells; and
directed my steps to the -sign of the Bull, in
order to make some enquiry respecting them.
. * See Walk through Wales," part i. p. ij.
[ 4 ]
Mine host Was at home, and immediately
recognizing my face, welcomed me with all
the cordiality of an old friend. On my men-
tioning the name of the. boy who had been the
objeft of my visit, his countenance suddenly
clouded over, and shaking his head, he told
me, with a sigh, " that he was no more."
Although the uncertainty of life is generally
known and acknowledged, and the examples
of premature dissolution are so frequent, that
no individual instance of it should shock or
surprise, yet, I confess, I was much struck at
this intelligence ; for the mind cannot imme-
diately, nor without some effort, reconcile
itself to the idea of youth and strength being
suddenly snatched to the grave. Fearful his
death might have been occasioned by the in-
jury he had received on his knee, and the
extraordinary applications which had been
made to it, I hinted a suspicion of this kind.
It was, however, very gratifying to my feelings
to understand that, in consequence of pursuing
the methods of cure which I recommended in
my last visit, the boy had quickly recovered
the use of his limb, and followed his usual
avocations without interruption for some weeks
previous to his decease. This fatal event had
[ 5 ]
been occasioned by a different cause; the
small-pox, that dreadful scourge of society,
found its way by accident into the village
towards the close of the autumn, and after
committing sad havock amongst its inhabi-
tants, attacked the youth in question. An
affectionate sister, his only relative, performed
the part of nurse to him ; and, fearless of in-
feclion when engaged in this office of frater-
nal love, she attended his bed with the most
anxious solicitude for several days, when the
disorder came to a crisis. It was at first
judged to be favourable, and the poor girl
flattered herself with the hope of saving her
brother. Contrary symptoms, however, quickly
appeared, the disorder triumphed over her
care and the doctor's skill, and in three days
from the turn, she followed his corpse to the
adjoining church-yard. I requested my friend,
who related these circumstances, to point out
the spot where he was interred. It was a
common green-sod grave, with no mark to
distinguish it from the " mouldering heaps"
around, save the stalks of some early flowers,
which had been planted in the turf by the
hand of his sister. This was the last tribute
'that her affection could bestow. The leaves
[ 6 ]
had long since perished, and the stalks them-
selves were decaying, for she had been pre-
vented replacing them at Easter, the usual
season of renovation, by a violent fever, which,
after a short struggle, united her spirit with
that of her lost brother.
The story was a simple, but an afFe&ing one,
and naturally introduced a train of serious re-
fleclions. I did not endeavour to restrain
them, impressed with the convi&ion that the
mind is never injured by the indulgence of a
rational sensibility. Solemn thought is, per-
haps, one of its best exercises, and produces
effecls every way beneficial to it; for it has
been well observed, that meditation guides to
morality, morality inspires religion, and reli-
' gion swells out into devotion.
We were now upon a Roman road, the via
Julia., an ancient military way formed, accord-
ing to Camden, by Julius Frontinus, about the
year 80, and supposed to have led from Caer-
leon through Caerwent to Chepstow. .Subse-
quent antiquaries,* indeed, doubt whether the
Romans were settled in Monmouthshire much
before the third century, and consequently
* Horseley, Brit. Rom.
[ 7 }
would subtraft from the venerable age of our
road nearly one hundred years. It was not
for us puisne antiquaries to discuss points on
which the great masters of the school had so
materially differed; instead, therefore, of wast-
ing our time in forming conjeftures that never
could be ascertained, we were busied in admi-
ring the beauties which the road presented to
us. For some miles it exhibits very pleasing
scenery. To the right the view is bounded by
the romantick hills that rise gently from the
banks of the river Usk ; the stream itself, mean-
dering through the rich and abundant valley to
which it gives a name, is a beautiful feature in
this variegated prospect, which is further di-
versified by the little village of Llanvair, and its
ivied castle, 'seen partially through the noble
woods that surround them. A wide scene lies
open to trje left: the coast of Somersetshire,
the river Severn, and the extensive tracl: of flat
ground that runs for many miles to the west-
ward along its northern banks. This was for-
merly called the moor, and has more than once
suffered all the evils of an inundation. The
last, and most dreadful accident of this kind,
happened in the year 1607, when " the Severn
." sea, after a spring-tide, having before been
[ 8 ]
(C driven back by a south-west wind, (which
" continued without intermission for three
" days) and then again repulsed by a very for-
" cible sea-wind, rose to such a high and vio-
" lent tide, as to overflow all this lower traft,
" and also that of Somersetshire over-against
" it, throwing down several houses, and over-
" whelming a considerable number of cattle
" and men."*
As we approached Caerleon our prospeft
became more extensive, and objefts of curiosity
multiplied upon us. Near the eighth mile-
stone from Newport, the sign of the Rock
and Fountain
" Invites to short refreshment, and to taste
" What grateful beverage the house may yield
" After fatigue, or dusty heat."-
We availed ourselves of its invitation; and ha-
ving taken a slight repast, ascended the hill
which rises immediately opposite to it. It is
lofty and abrupt, and was formerly strengthened
by a castle, called Penhaugh Castle, one of the
fortified residences of the St. Maurs, ancestors
of the Seymour family. The view from this
elevation is extremely fine, but few other ad-
* Caraden, 715. Edit. 1732.
[ 9 ]
vantages seem to have attended the situation of
the ruined mansion, since it was compleatly
commanded by a still higher hill to the south.
The road, which for several miles has been
rising, though gradually and insensibly, affords
at every step prospers rich and diversified.
They now, indeed, begin to partake of the
grand, retaining at the .same time their cha-
racter of the beautiful. To the north, the vale
of Usk still displays itself smiling with culti-
vation, watered by its sinuous stream, and
bounded by a line of mountains, amongst
which the ragged head of the Skirid Vawr,
near Abergavenny, makes a conspicuous figure.
On the south, the Bristol Channel presents a
magnificent sheet of water, studded with
islands, the greater and lesser Holmes, and
Barry island - 3 the distant hills of Somersetshire
and Devonshire finishing the view towards
that point.
Being desirous of visiting the loftily-situ-
ated village of Christ-Church, we left the
new road to Caerleon on our right, (which has
of late years been formed for the convenience
of carriages, in order that they may avoid the
steep descent from Christ-Church into the val-
ley) and took the old way through the village.
The elevation in the country, occasioned by an
imperceptible rise for a considerable distance,
here terminates in a sudden and abrupt man-
ner, and on the brow of this descent the village
of Christ-Church is ' seated. It has little to
boast, save the beauty of its prospect, which a
very .lofty situation enables it to command. An
old and curious flat sepulchral stone occurs in
the church, rudely indented with the figures of
a man and woman, separated by a cross; the
inscription running round the margin of it is
cut in barbarous letters, and baffled all our
, attempts to give a compleat transcription of it;
you have as much as we were able to make out':
Hie jacent Johannes et uxor ejus qm
cbierunt anno Domini MCCC LXXVI quorum ani-
mabus \firofiitietur, probably] Dem. Amen.
Descending slowly from the village of Christ-
Church, we approached Caerleon, a town
famed in Roman, British, and Norman story
for its former strength and splendour. None
of its ancient magnificence now remains; tho'
some memorials of it ma}* be discovered, in
ruined walls and fragments of antique masonry,
scattered through the town and its immediate
vicinity. Time, however, could not rob it of
its natural beauties; and the happy situation.
[ 11 ]
in which it stands will never cease to afford
pleasure to the eye of taste. We entered the
town at the east end, by crossing a bridge
thrown over the Usk, a passage that had been
formerly well defended, as is evident from the
ruins of a bastion, or round tower, on the left
hand, probably of Norman architecture. The
bridge is formed of wood on a similar con-
struction, and for the same reason as that of
Chepstow, the tide at each place rising occa-
sionally to the incredible height of fifty or sixty
feet. The boards which compose the flooring
of this bridge being designedly loose, (in order
to float with the tide when it exceeds a certain
height) and prevented from escaping only by
little pegs at the ends of them, do not afford a
very safe footing for the traveller; and some
auk ward accidents have been known to arise
from this cause. A singular adventure oc-
curred about twenty years ago, to a female, as
she was passing it at night, which tells so much
to the credit of the ladies, that it would be un-
pardonable in a Tourist, who is less an admirer of
the sex than myself, not to detail the particulars.
The heroine in question was a Mrs. Williams,
well known in the town, and living there
till within these few years j she had been
[ 12 ]
to spend a cheerful evening at a neighbour's
house on the eastern side of the river, and was
returning home, (I presume) at a decent hour,
and in a decorous state. The night being ex-
tremely dark, she had provided herself with a
lantern and candle, by the assistance of which
she found her way towards the bridge, and
had already passed part of the dangerous struc-
ture. When about half seas over, however,
(don't mistake my meaning) she unfortunately
trod on a plank that had by some accident lost
the tennons originally fixed to the ends of it,
and had slipped from its proper situation ; the
faithless board instantly yielded to the weight
of the good lady, who, I understand, was ra-
ther corpulent, and carried her through the
flooring, candle and lantern, into the river.
Fortunately at the moment of falling she was
standing in such a position as gave her a seat
on the plank, similar to that of a horseman on
his nag. It may be easily imagined that Mrs.
Williams must have been somewhat surprised
by this change of situation, as well as alteration
of climate. Blessed, however, with a large
share of that presence of mind, or patient en-
durance of evil, which exajts the female cha-
ra&er so far above our own, the good lady was.
t 13 1
not overwhelmed (except with the water) by
her fall ; and steadily maintained her seat on
the board, taking care at the same time to pre-
serve the candle lighted, rightly supposing it
would serve as an index to any one who might
be able or willing to assist her. Thus, be-
striding the plank, our heroine was hurried
down by the river towards Newport, the bridge
of which she trusted would stop her progress,
or its inhabitants be alarmed with her cries.
In both her hopes, however, she was disap-
pointed; the rapidity of a spring-tide sent her
through the arch with the velocity of an arrow
discharged from the bow, and the good peo-
ple of the town had long been wrapt in slum-
ber. Thus situated, her prospel became each
moment more desperate, her candle was nearly
extinguished, and every limb so benumbed
with cold, that she had the greatest difficulty
in keeping her saddle-, already had she reached
the mouth of the Usk, and was on the point of
encountering the turbulent waves of the Bris-
tol Channel, when the master of a fishing-boat,
who was returning from his nightly toils,
discovered the gleaming of her taper and heard
her calls for assistance, and, after a considera-
te struggle between his humanity and super-
stition, ventured at length to approach this
floating wonder, and brought Mrs. Williams
safely to the shore in his boat.
To the antiquary, Caerleon is a place of much
curiosity ; you would, therefore, consider us as
unpardonable, had we not half blinded our-
selves amongst the rubbish of its ruins, and
torn our clothes with the thorns and brambles
that conceal these venerable remains. Our
researches indeed were conducted with all
proper spirit and perseverance; but, I am sorry
to say, they were not rewarded by any disco-^
very that could throw new light on the his v -
tory of the place, or make a material addition
to what is already written on the subject. Time
has been assisted, in his tardy but ceaseless
operations of destruction on the antiquities of
Caerleon, by the active industry of its own in-
habitants; some of whom, stimulated by a
principle of avarice, have destroyed or removed
many of the finest monuments of its ancient
splendour. Within these three years the town
has been despoiled of two^gate-ways, probably
Norman; and the lofty keep which stood on
the mound to the north-east of the town has
also, since the memory of man, been levelled
with the ground. Facts like these certainly
'[ '5 ]
detraft considerably from the classical charatter
of the Caerleonites, but you will be still more
indignant at their want of common curiosity,
when I mention an anecdote equally true.
About eighteen months or two years back, on
digging a cavity to receive the foundation of a
large warehouse, near the church, the work-
men struck upon a mass of fragments of anci-
ent masonry; consisting of capitals, shafts, and
pedestals of pillars; entablatures, friezes, archi-
traves, &c. The circumstance was communi-
cated to the owner, and some curious person
suggested to him, that by expending a little
more money it might lead to a further disco-
very, and throw new light on the history of the
town. He went to the excavation, looked at
the remains with perfect indifference, and
coolly observing, that " thes'em sort of things
<f had nothing to do with his coal speculation,"
ordered the workmen to cover them up.
Much of the present town stands within the
precincts of an ancient Roman camp, the walls
of which still partially exist, though deprived
of their facings, and so dilapidated as to leave
their foundation scarcely visible in many places.
Their form isparallelogramical, and their extent
nearly six hundred yards by five hundred. A
[ 1.6 ]
little to the north-west of these, in a meadow,
a circular depression or concavity of the ground
occurs, which is supposed by the initiated to
be a Roman amphitheatre; though the pro-
fane vulgar consider it as the place of revelry
between Arthur and his knights of the round
table, and assert that the hero, when he quitted
mortal existence, sank into the earth at this
his favourite spot. Whatever its former con-
sequence might have been, it is now inferior to
many an English cock-pit, and holds out an
useful lesson to the pomp of greatness, and the
Jpride of descent. If it be Roman, as many
circumstances concur to make us think it is, it
would be a castrensian amphitheatre, formed by
hollowing out the ground to a certain depth and
circumference, and then furnishing its gently
declining sides with green turf seats to accom-
modate the numerous spectators, a practice to
which the poet of Sulmo alludes.* The mound
of earth, called the keep, though probably
Owing its origin to the Normans, seems to con-
sist partly of Roman ruins j fragments of Ro-
man pottery, and masses of Roman bricks, are
In gradibus sedet populus de cespite fadtis.
De drte amandi.
[ 17 j
easily discovered by penetrating into the
ground in the slightest manner. Of more
modern antiquity, the only specimen which
struck us, was the conventual house of the
Miss Morgans', having an interior quadrangle,
originally connected, in all probability, with an
abbey of Cistertian monks, which appears to
have been settled very early at Caerleon.*
It may be amusing, perhaps,' to recall to your
recollection a few particulars connected with
the history of this place.
The present name, Caerleon, (the castle or
camp of the legion) clearly points out a Roman
origin. Horsley, than whom we cannot follow
a better authority, supposes that the Romans
arrived at this spot in the reign of Antoninus Pius>
about the middle of the second century; and
finding it to be a place agreeing in the circum-
stances of its situation with their system of
castrametation, they made it the station, or
head-quarters, of the second Augustan legion.
In allusion to this disposition of a particular
body of troops, they called it-Isca Legionis Se-
cundce Augusta; or Isca Silurum, as being the
capital city of the Silures or South- Wallians.f
* Tanner's Not. Mon. 327. Edit. 1744.
t HorsJey's Britan, Rom. 78.
[. W I
Here, it appears, the legion continued till
within a short time of the departure of the
Romans from Britain; since inscriptions to-
wards the close of the empire, and coins of
some of the later emperors, have at different
times been discovered on this spot.
From these circumstances, as well as from
the extensive ruins which have accidentally .
presented themselves in a circle round the pre-
sent town of a mile in diameter, it cannot be
questioned that Caerleon became, under the au-
spices of the Romans, a large and magnificent
place; exhibiting those specimens of grandeur
and refinement which generally decorated a
Roman city a forum, temples, baths, and
theatres. The arts, indeed, seem to have been
cultivated here to a high degree, as the many
elegant relics of antiquity, and beautiful frag-
ments of Roman masonry, formerly to be seen
in the possession of different people at Caer-
leon, sufficiently testify.* But its chief glory
arose from the success with which intelleftual
acquirements were pursued; for if we give cre-
dit to the testimony of an ancient author^ we
* Camden, p. 719, et infra. Horsley, p. 320.
Alexander Elstbiensis, cited by Camden, p. 727.
[ 19 3
are to believe, that Caerleon was a second
Croto/ta, since he tells us (just previous to the
arrival of the Saxons in Britain) there was an
academy of two hundred philosophers at this
place. Excellence, indeed, is only a relative
-term, and therefore, sagacious as these men
of science would appear to be in the eyes of
the ignorant multitude around them, they
might, notwithstanding, be still far inferior to
the scholars of Pythagoras. The circumstance,
however, if it be facl, proves that Caerleon
had attained to a very great comparative degree
of civilization under the auspices of the con-
querors of the world.
Even during the times of the Romans in Bri-
tain, it appears that Caerleon enjoyed the bless-
ings of the Christian religion. Three noble
churches are said to have been erected in it,
almost as soon as the gospel found its way into
this country,* one of which was constituted
the metropolitan church of all Wales. Here
the archiepiscopal seat continued till the time
of St. David, who, towards the close of the
sixth century, translated it to Menevia,f or, as
it was afterwards called, from the name of this
* Leland Colleft. v. ii. p. 90. f Tanner's Not. Mon, 3*7-
canonized prelate, St. David's. The deities
of classical mythology, however, had their wor-
shippers also, and the great goddess of the
Ephesians boasted a temple eiedted to her
honour in the city of Caerleon.*
How long the Roman forces were continued
at Caerleon is not to be ascertained. The
second Augustan Legion had retired from it,
previous to the final desertion of Britain by
that people jf but as coins of the Valentinians
have been discovered here, we may conclude
that it was a station as low down as the be-
ginning of the fifth century.
The enfeebled and emasculated Britons,
when deprived of the aid of the Romans, be-
came an easy prey to the fierce hordes of Saxon
invaders, who flocked to this country about,
the middle of the fifth century. Caerleon, with
the country surrounding it, fell into their hands,
and doubtless suffered severely in the undistin-
guishing destru6tion which followed all the
* Camden, 719. This is evident from die following inscrip-
tion discovered at Caerleon in 1608 ;
T. FL. POSTHUMIUS VARUS
V. C. LEG. TEMPL. DIAN^
RESTITUIT.
f Horsley, 78. The Romans quitted Britain about the middle
of the fifth century.
[ 21 J
conquests of these barbarous tribes. It soon
recovered its pristine splendour, however, and
under the protection of the British hero, the
renowned Arthur, who wrested it from the
Saxons after a fierce battle, it became once
more a place of consideration. Here it was
that he received the crown from the hand
of Dubritius bishop of LlandafF, on being
elecled king of all Britain;* and here he in-
stituted that order of chivalry, the Round Table,
which makes so conspicuous a figure in the
old romances. J
Thus Caerleon became the scene of royal
amusement, in which the British dames of
Arthur's court were, at Easter and Christmas,
entertained with the jousts and tournaments of
his hundred and thirty noble knights.
* Godwin de Prjesul. p. 572.
$ Drayton's Poly-Olbion, fourth song:
" The Pentecost's prepared at Caerleon in his court,
" That table's ancient seat;"
And Selden's Note, p. 559. " At Caerleon in Monmouth,
" after his victories, a pompous celebration was at Whitsuntide,,
" whither were invited divers kings and princes of the neigh-
" bouring coasts ; with them, and his Queen Guinever, with the
" ladies keeping those solemnities in their several conclaves. For
" so the British story makes it, according to the Trojan custom,
" that in festival folemnities both sexes should/iot sit together."
The Legend of King Arthur. Percy's Ancient English
poetry, v. iii. p. 37.
[ 22 ]
A tradition o"f these revels still exists in the
town, and a notice of it occurs in the sign of
a publick-house, which displays a military
figure, intended to represent King Arthur, and
subscribed with the following lines:
" 1200 years and more are pass'd
" Since Arthur ruled here;
" And that to me once more he's come
"Think it not strange or queere.
ec Though o'er my door, yet take my word,
, " To honour you he's able ;
" And make you welcome with good Ale,
" And Knights of the Round Table."
These jollities,, however, seem to have had
but an unfavourable effect on the morals of the
ladies. The fair Guinever, Arthur's consort,
and her female attendants, if not dealt unjustly
by, were certainly not Lucretias; and the tea-
tables of ancient Caerleon buzzed with whispers
much to the discredit of their prudence. .The
legendary tale of " the Boy and the Mantle"
is so humorous, and exhibits such a contrast
(with respect to the discretion of its ladies) be-
tween the court of Caerleon and those of modern
times, that I cannot refrain borrowing it from
its very learned editor.
[ 23 1
THE BOY AND THE MANTLE.
IN Caerleon* dwelt king Arthur,
A prince of passing might;
And there maintain'd his table round,
Beset with many a krtight.
And there he kept his Christmas
With mirfli and princely cheare,
When, lo! a straunge and cunning boy .
Before him did appeare.
A kirtle, and a mantle,
This boy had him upon,
With brooches, rings, and owches
^ Full daintily bedone.
He had a sarke of silk
About his middle meet :
And thus, with seemeley curtesy,
He did king Arthur greet.
* This is a more modern copy of a very old poem, scarcely
intelligible from the antiquity of the language, 'transcribed by
the Bishop of Dromore from an ancient MS. In the first stanza,
Carlelle is mentioned as the scene of the transaction. It is
probably, however, (I differ, with much hesitation, from the
learned editor) that this is a corruption of Caerleon ; since no
early historian, or even tradition, attributes to the former town
the honour of being the residence of King Arthur. The old
minstrels, it is true, were mostly northern men, and therefore,
as his Lordship observes, might, in their popular ballads, repre-
sent the hero of romance as residing in the North; but even if
this were the case, it is to be recollected, that their compositions
on this subject, if not translations from the Welsh, borrowed
their incidents entirely from earlier Welsh poems ; which most
indubitably would never have transplanted the scene of Arthur's
revels from the legitimate field of action, the city of Caerleon,
to a distant country, and a more obscure to\yn.
t 24 ]
" God speed thee, brave King Arthur,
" Thus feasting in thy bowrej
" And Guenever thy goodly queen,
" That fair and peerlesse flowre.
" Ye gallant lords, and lordings,
" I wish you all take heed,
" Lest, what ye deem a blooming rose
" Should prove a cankred weed."
Then straitway from his bosome
A little wand he drew;
And with it eke a mantle
Of wondrous shape and hew.
" Now have thou here, king Arthur,
" Have this here of mee,
" And give unto thy comely queen,
" All-shapen as you see.
" No wife it shall become
" That once hath been to blame."
Then every knight in Arthur's court
Slye glaunced at his dame.
And first came lady Guenever,
The mantle she must trye :
This dame she was new-fangled,
And of a roving eye.
When she had tane the mantle,
And all was with it cladde,
From top to toe it shivcr'd down,
As though with shears beshradde.
One while it was too long,
Another while too short,
And wrinkled on her shoulders
In most unseemely sort.
[ 25 ]
Now green, now red it seemed,
Then all of sable hue.
<c Beshrew me," quoth king Arthur,
" I think thou beest not true."
Down she threw tiie mantle,
Ne longer would not stayj
But storming like a fury, i
To her chamber flung away.
She curst the whoreson weaver,
That had the mantle wrought:
And doubly curst the froward impe,
Who thither had it brought.
" I had rather live in desarts
" Beneath the green- wood tree :
" Than here, base king, among thy groomes,
" The sport of them and thee."
Sir Kay call'd forth his lady,
And bade her to come near :
" Yet dame, if thou be guilty,
" I pray thee now forbear."
This lady, pertly gigling,
With forward step came on,
And boldly to the little boy
With fearless face is gone.
When she had tane the mantle,
With purpose for to wear j
It shrunk up to her shoulder,
And left her b-tt-m bare.
Then every merry knight,
That was in Arthur's court,
Gib'd, and laught, and flouted,
To see that pleasant sport.
. t 2(i J
Downe she threw the mantle,
No longer bold or gay,
But with a face all pale and wan,
To her chamber slunk away.
Then forth came an old knight,
A pattering o'er his creed ;
And proffer'd to the little boy
Five nobles to his meed :
' And all the time of Christmass
" Plumb-porridge shall be thine,
" If thou wilt let my lady fair
" Within the mantle shine."
A saint his lady seemed,
With "step demure, and slow,
And gravely to the mantle
With mincing pace does goe;
When she the same had taken,
That was so fine and thin,
It shrivell'd all about her,
And show'd her dainty skin.
Ah! little did HER mincing,
Or HIS long prayers bestead ; .
.She had no more hung on her,
Than a tassel and a thread.
Down she threw the mantle.
With terror and dismay,
And with a face of scarlet,
To her chamber hied away.
Sir Cradocke call'd his lady,
And bade her to come neare :
" Come win this mantle, lady,
" And do me credit here,
" Come win this mantle, lady,
" For now it shall be thine,
" If thou hast never done amiss,
" Sith first I made thee mine."
The lady gently blushing,
With modest grace came on,
And now to trye the wondrous charm
Courageously is gone.
When she had tane the mantle,
And put it on her backe,
About the hem it seemed
To wrinkle and to cracke.
(e Lye still," shee cryed, " O mantle I
. "And shame me not for nought,
f( I'll freely own whate'er amiss,
" Or blameful I have wrought.
" Once I kist Sir Cradocke
" Beneath the green-wood tree :
et Once I kist Sir Cradocke's mouth
" Before he married mee."
When thus she had her shriven,
And her worst fault had told,
The mantle soon became her
Rightly comely as it shold.
Most rich and fair of colour,
Like gold it glittering shone :
And much the knights in Arthur's court
Admir'd her every one.
Then towards king Arthur's table
The boy he turn'd his eye :
Where stood a boar's-head garnish'd
With bayes and rosemarye.
When thrice he o'er the boar's head
His little wand had drawne,
Quoth he, " There's never a cuckold's knife,
" Can carve this head of brawne."
Then some their whittles rubbed
On whetstone, and on hone :
Some threwe them under the table,
And swore that they had none.
Sir Cradocke had a little knife
Of steel and iron made;
And in an instant thro' the skull
He thrust the shining blade.
He thrust the shining blade
Full easily and fast :
And every knight in Arthur's court
A morsel had to taste.
The boy brought forth a home,
All golden was the rim:
Said he, " No cuckolde ever can
" Set mouth unto the brim.
" No cuckolde can this little home
" Lift fairly to his head;
" But or on this> or that side,
" He shall the liquor shed."
Some shed it on their shoulder,
Some shed it on their thigh;
And he that could not, hit his mouth,
Was sure to hit his eye.
Thus he, that was a cuckold,
Was known of every man:
But Cradocke lifted easily,
And wan the golden can.
Thus boar's head, horn, and mantle,
Were this fair couple's meed :
And all such constant lovers,
God send them well to speed.
Then down in rage came Guenever,
And thus could sprightly say,
" Sir Cradocke's wife most wrongfully
" Hath borne the prize away.
tf See yonder shameless woman,
" That makes herself so clean ;
" Yet from her pillow taken
" Thrice five gallants. have been.
" Priests, clarkes, and wedded men,
" Have her lewd pillow prest : '
" Yet she the wondrous prize forsooth
" Must beare from all the rest."
Then bespake the little boy,
Who had the same in hold:
( Chastise thy wife, king Arthur,
' Of speech she is too bold :
' Of speech she is too bold,
' Of carriage all too free;
' Sir king, she hath within thy hall
r A cuckolde made of thee.
' All frolick, light, and wanton
' She hath her carriage borne :
' And given thee for a kingly crown
' To wear a cuckolde's home.'
Little occurs relative to Caerleon, during
that period of darkness and confusion known
*by the name of the middle ages. It succes-
[ 30 ]
sively felt the fury of the Saxon and the Dane,
and was afterwards alternately in the posses-
sion of the English and Welsh. The castle, a
remain of which is seen on the north side of
the bridge, seems to ,have been creeled about
the middle of the twelfth century, if, indeed, it
be the same called by Powel the " New Castle
upon Usk." At that time the English held
the town, but surrendered it, after a desperate
resistance, to Jorweth ap Owen, prince of
South-Wales, in 1773. On the ensuing year,
Caerleon experienced another change of mas-
ters, when a large army of English and Nor-
mans took possession of it 5 they retained it, how-
ever, but a few months, King Henry II. again
restoring it to its rightful owner, Jorweth ap
Owen, on this prince and the other South- Wal-
lian leaders doing homage to him at Glocester.
In the year 1218, Caerleon fell once more
into the hands of the English, under William
Marshall earl of Pembroke, and experienced all
the horrors of a complete sacking, the frequent
effecl: of military ferocity in the feudal ages.
Llewellyn ap Jorweth recovered it in 1231,
and it was retained by his descendants* till the
complete reduction of Wales by- Edward I.
* See Powel's History of Wales, 201, 203, et infra.
[ 31 ]
Having gratified our curiosity here, we pro-
ceeded towards Newport, a town at the dis-
tance of two miles to the south-west of Caer-
leon. Our walk, which conduced us by a
foot-road over the fields, presented a variety of
rich views, Caerleon forming a prominent fea-
ture in them, happily placed on the wooded
banks of a fine winding river, in the middle of
a rich valley surrounded with^hills.
After an hour's agreeable saunter, we de-
scended towards Newport, and entered the
town over a magnificent stone bridge. It is,
indeed, as yet, -incomplete ; but a sufficient
portion of the structure appears, to do great
^credit to the architectural skill of its builder,
Mr. Edward, son of the William Edward, who
is so deservedly famed for having thrown a du-
rable arch over the rapid Taafe at Pont-y-pridd.
The first object that strikes the eye on enter-
ing Newport is its ruined castle, which stands
at the north-eastern corner of the town on the
banks of the river Usk. There is nothing pic-
turesque in its appearance, though the remains
are considerable. Like most of the other cas-
tles of South-Wales, it owes its erection to the
Normans, and made part of the possessions of
.the Clare family, the lineal' descendants of the
[ 32 ]
Baron Fitz-hamon, who possessed himself of
Glamorganshire in the eleventh century. From
them it passed to Hugh de Audley, in right
of his wife a co-heiress of Gilbert de Clare.
It afterwards fell a victim to the rapacity of the
younger Spencer, in the reign of Edward II.
just previous to the downfall of that favourite ;
but was soon recovered by the confederate
barons, and restored to the rightful owner.
Newport itself is a long ill-built town, the
name of which implies a place of greater an-
tiquity in its neighbourhood.* This is Caer-
leon, from whose ruins, it probably arose.f It
confirms, however, the truth of the old adage,
Heroum filii noxa ; for if we except the capital
inn which is now building, (after the plan of
the great one at Pyle) and to which the wor-
thy and respe&able tenants of the present inn
will do credit, Newport can boast of nothing
that bespeaks the grandeur of its descent.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
* Quid, quod vel ipsum Novas Portx nomen alium locum in
vicinia fuisse innuat se vetustiorem! Baxteri Gloss, in Uxacona.
f De cineribus tantse urbis (Caerleon) Newport, sive Nova
Porta.in vicinia ortus est. Id. in Foe. Lea.
Bristol Channel
LETTER II.
TO THE SAME.
Neaib, Aug. \\tb.
T IFE has not unaptly been compared to a
^ journey. The resemblance, indeed, is so
striking, that moralists, of all ages and descrip-
tions have made the comparison, and run the
parallel between them. In both states, changes,
chances, and accidents perpetually occur; and
storms and serenity, rain and sunshine, incon-
venience and comfort, fatigue and pleasure,,
[ 34. ]
succeed each other in constant alternation.
Such being the inevitable course of human
affairs, it is absolutely necessary for the tra-
veller, in either case, if he would pursue his
journey in any comfort, to bring his mind to
such a disposition, as shall enable him to enjoy
the agreeable, and meet the unpleasant with
patience.
Hitherto, indeed, we have had no occasion
)r the exercise of this virtue ; our journey is
>ut just commenced, and our hours, like the
halcyon days of youth, have, as yet, passed
without a cloud. Much of our pleasure has
arisen from an accidental addition to our party,
the two younger Mr. Th-m-s's, of P It ch,
Glamorganshire, who yesterday morning joined
us at Cowbridge. Their s'ociety has been of
material use, as well as productive of great sa-
tisfa&ion to us, since an intimate acquaintance
with this part of Wales enables them to point
out a variety of minute obje&s of curiosity,
which, without such an assistance to our en-
quiries, would probably escape the notice of
strangers.
We quitted Newport the pth, and pro-
ceeded through a pleasant country towards
Caerphilly, . a town on the eastern confines of
[ 35 ]
Glamorganshire. Our walk afforded but little
room for remark, the scenery being tame, and
the population scanty, compared with the trat
we had hitherto past. An agreeable and lively
effect, however, in the landscape, arises from
a pra&ice, which is become very common
among the Welsh peasantry; a great objecl: of
their ambition (would to heaven all ambition
were equally innocent!) is to render their little
dwellings conspicuous, by coating them with
whitewash. This gives a great appearance of
neatness and cleanliness to the cottages, and
at the same time adds to the picturesque of
the country; for although a great breadth of
white, produced either by a number of houses
grouped together and whitewashed, or by a
large single mansion covered in the same gla-
ring manner, be disgusting to true taste, yet
small detached cottages thus coloured, sprinkled
through wooded valleys, or studding the broad
sides of verdant mountains, produce a relief
and contrast in the scenery that are highly
gratifying to the eye.
About ten miles from Newport we crossed
the river Rumney, entered Glamorganshire,
and soon had a view of the town of Gaerphilly,
.and the august remains of its ancient castle.
[ 36 ]
This place is situated in a broad valley, or rather
an extensive fiat, and surrounded by mountains
barren and dark. At the first glance, after
our entrance into Caerphilly, we had occasion
to remark the very singular alteration for the
better, which had taken place in it since the
period of Mr. Windham's tour, about twenty
years ago. The town is now neat, clean, and
has many decent houses. An easy communi-
cation may be had with its inhabitants, most of
whom speak English; and an admirable repast,
served up with cleanliness and comfort, evinced
an house of entertainment above the common
run of village inns. After our collation, we vi-
sited the castle, and were much struck with the
stupendous scene of ruins which it displayed.
A minute description of their several parts
would not be very difficult, since I conceive
the ichnography might, with some industry,
be ascertained ; but such is their extent, that
it would be quite incompatible with the size
of a moderate letter. One grand idea of the
immensity of this fortress is conveyed to the
mind by the information of the village anti-
quary, who shews the ruins, and tells the
astonished spe&ator that they are one mile and
a quarter in circumference, and sufficiently
[ 37 ]
large to accommodate a garrison of twenty
thousand men. The hanging tower, as it is.
called, cannot be viewed without wonder. It
is a huge circular building, with walls above
ten feet thick, which, probably, by the applica-
tion of the mighty force of an ancient military
engine, had been torn from its foundation, but,
by some inconceivable means found a support
in the earth, when, as it should seem, it was in
the aft of falling; and now remains immovably
fixed there, though standing no less than eleven
feet six inches out of the perpendicular. The
majestic remains of the hall, its beautiful
clustered pillars, and the elegant form of its
windows, in which the Gothic and Saracenic
styles are most tastefully combined, bear ample
testimony to the perfection of the architecture
of the age in which Caerphilly castle was
constructed.
To determine exaclly this aera, would be
more difficult than to describe its ruins, as no
data for that purpose can be gathered from
history. There are reasons, however, for in-
dulging a conjecture that the Normans were
the first people who erected a castle at this
place. That Caerphilly, stupendous as it is,
should have been built by the Welsh princes,
[ 38 ].
seems most unlikely; the petty chieftains, who
ruled the different provinces of Wales, had
neither ability nor leisure to effecl: so great a
work. The confined limits of their dominions,
the scanty population of those territories, which
would not supply labourers for such an under-
taking, and the poverty of their coffers, that
would not allow them to employ labourers
could they have been found, seem insuperable
objections to the idea of their executing so great
a work ; as their constant employment, either
in defending themselves against the incursions
of neighbouring chieftains, or in ravaging the
territories of the adjoining princes, would as
certainly prevent them from attempting it.
In the year 1090, as I shall have occasion to
observe to you more fully in the latter part of
this letter, the Norman baron, Robert Pitz-
hamon, lord of the bed-chamber to William
Rufus, with -twelve other dependant adven-
turers, took possession of Glamorganshire. As
he obtained it by violence, he could only hold
it by superior power; it became necessary for
him and his followers, therefore, to secure them-
selves in their new acquisitions, and to awe the
natives, by building strong fortresses in such
situations as appeared most eligible for thes
[ 39 ]
purposes. This is the period, then, to which I
would attribute the original erection of a castle
at Caerphilly, or, as it was more anciently called,
Sengenneth; and as Fitz-hamon retained the
lordship of Glamorganshire in his own hands,
and the country around Caerphilly made part
of his own demesne, we may, with equal proba-
bility, consider him as its builder.
I do not, however, conceive that we are in-
debted to Fitz-hamon for much of the present
remains. The old Norman castle was com-
pletely dismantled in the year 1217, when Rhys
Fychan wrested it from the English, to whom
it then belonged ; and although it was again
repaired by John Bruce, the son-in-law of Prince
Llewellyn, in 1221, yet the prodigious' size of
the present structure prohibits the idea of its
being the work of a subject. Many reasons
unite in persuading us that Caerphilly as we
now see it, with its enormous towers, bastions,
and walls, was built by Edward I. the conqueror
of Wales. Edifices of a similar importance had
been raised by him at Caernarvon and Conway,
in order to awe the North-Wallians, whom he
had lately subdued; and it seems to be but
probable, that he would take similar precau^
lions- with respect to his subjects of South.
C 40 ]
Wales. To the English kings of the thirteenth
and fourteenth centuries, the erection of such
a prodigious pile would be no very serious
effort. By a common exercise of prerogative
they easily procured a sufficient number of
hands to carry any work of this kind into exe-
cution; instead of alluring labourers by the
offer of 'wages, they issued their writs, di-
re&ed to the sheriffs of the different counties,
commanding them to assess in each a certain
number of carpenters, masons, &c. who were
to assemble on a particular day at a given spot,
and carry into execution the royal work. An
army of artificers was by these means at once
set in motion, fully equal to all that was re-
quired of them; for what labour was there
that might not be effected by the well-direcled
strength of such congregated multitudes?
Caerphilly, as I have before observed, made
part of Fitz-hamon's possessions. From hence
it devolved to the De Clares', his lineal de-
scendants; and by the marriage of Eleanor,
a co-heiress of this family, to the younger
Spencer, it became the property of the favourite
of Edward II. Whilst this profligate young
man basked in the sunshine of power and pros-
perity, the castle of Caerphilly displayed a brik
liant scene of revelry and show. Surrounded
by a croud of idle retainers, who, as they de-
pended entirely on the will of the lord, were
bound to humour his caprices, and execute his
wishes, young Spencer exercised an uncon-
trolled despotism through the country round j*
and maintained such a system of profuse living-,
as equalled the expenditure of a monarch.
We may form some idea of the immense rus-
tic hospitality in which the feudal chieftain
indulged, by the following circumstance re-
lating to Spencer, and the place under consi-
deration. The insolence of this young man,
who, with the usual infatuation of a favourite,
exercised his power rather in exciting envy and
disgust, than in conciliating affe&ion, became
at length so intolerable to the haughty barons
of the time, that they determined to tumble him
from his unmerited elevation, and procure the
banishment both of himself and his father from
the kingdom. A powerful combination was
immediately formed, and young Roger Morti-
mer, nephew of the Lord of Wigmore, received
* The cause of the barons' confederacy against the Spencers'
arose from an act of oppressive tyranny on the part of the son,
by obtaining unjustly an estate which had been agreed to be
purchased by the Earl of Hereford. -Rapin, vol. ;'. 395.
instruGkms from the barons to commence hos-
tilities against the Spencers', by making an
irruption into Glamorganshire, and despoiling
their demesne. The directions were faithfully
observed, and these incredible quantities of
live stock and salted provision, intended for the
consumption of the lord, were, amongst other
things, either destroyed or carried off; 2,8,000
sheep, 1000 oxen and heifers, 12,000 cows
with their breed for two years, 560 cart-horses,
2000 hogs, 600 bacons, 80 carcasses of beef,
600 muttons, 10 tons of cider, &c.
Aware of the prodigious strength of Caer-
philly castle, the unfortunate Edward II. placed
his last sad hopes in this fortress; and, when
hunted by his unnatural queen and the con-
federate barons, repaired thither with the
younger Spencer, and summoned his military
tenants in South-Wales to rally round the royal
standard. It was, however, too late ; the con-
tagion of disaffe&ion had spread itself through
his own countrymen ; the sinking fortunes of
Edward operated with the accustomed malig-
nant influence of a declining state of affairs, by
lessening daily the lists of his friends and in-
creasing the number of his foes. The king
finding this to be the case, and perceiving there
, - t'.w ]
were no hopes of the exertions of the Welsh in
his favour, quitted Caerphilly, and determined
,to escape to Ireland. A contrary wind, how-
ever, drove him back to Swansea; from thence
he went to Neath Abbey, and was at length
taken in the castle of Llantrissant, with the few
adherents who continued faithful to him during
his adverse fortunes. After his capture he
was removed successively to Lidbury, Kenil-
worth, and Berkley castles, where at length,
according to the poet, he expiated, by an hor-
rible end, the savage cruelty of his father, in
massacring the bards of Wales.
" Weave the warp, and weave the wqpf,
" The winding-sheet of Edward's race;
" Give ample room and verge enough,
" The characters of hell to trace.
" Mark the year, and mark the night,
" When Severn shall re-echo with affright
" The shrieks of death, through Berkley's roof that ringj
" Shrieks of an agonizing king."
It was a few weeks after the capture of the
king, that Caerphilly made the successful re-
sistance mentioned by Camden, under Hugh
Spencer, the grandson of the old man, a youth
of only nineteen years of age. The gallant be-
haviour of the garrison ensured their future
safety ; for the queen's forces, finding their ef-
[ 44 ]
forts to take it ineffectual, granted an honour-
able capitulation to Spencer, by which he and
his followers were secured in their persons and
effects. The strength of Caerphilly, indeed,
was sufficient to bid defiance to the tumultuary
assaults of such disorganized crouds, as the
baronial armies exhibited in the feudal ages; .
when military subordination was so imperfect,
and the ties which connected the mass together
so loose, that it was very difficult to direct its
concentrated force to any one point; and
scarcely possible to continue the operations of
that force for any length of time. By the terms-
of military tenure, the holder of the fee was
bound to a service of only forty days at any one
levy ; if, therefore, the besieged could defend
themselves beyond this period, they were, in
all probability, rescued from danger, since it
was very unlikely that an army, composed of
chieftains who had their own independent and
particular interests to pursue, jealous, haughty,
and impatient of control, should be kept to-
gether by any common cause, longer than a
positive obligation compelled them to act
in union.
The scenes which Caerphilly castle have
witnessed, my dear sir, have not been of a.
common kind ; and its history affords much
moral instruction. It has seen its lords, at one
time, living with regal magnificence, sur-
rounded with dependants, the favourites of
fortune, and the delegates of power; and at
another time, driven to its towers to escape
the rage of their former flatterers; pursued
with public execrations ; and loaded with ge-
neral reproach. It has seen a monarch, (the
son of a hero) who ascended a throne covered
with laurels, and established by conquests, in
the course of a few years flying to its walls
for safety and protection, deserted by his
friends, hunted by his enemies, and betrayed
by his own countrymen.
To humble pedestrians, perhaps, these me-
mentos do not immediately apply; since the
mighty and the great can alone be liable to
such singular vicissitudes; but they still have
an indirett reference even to us, for they check
improper ambition, admonish to content, and
teach us in the language of the poet,
" Along the cool sequester'd <vale of life,
" To keep the noiseless tenor of our way."
If, therefore, we left the ruins of Caerphilly
without being made somewhat wiser and
[ 46 ]
better by the visit, it tells little to the credit
either of our heads or our hearts.
A tedious length of ascent conduced us to
the summit of a mountain from whence we
had a good and final view of Caerphilly, its
castle, and the country round it. Little else
of pleasing scenery occurred till we reached
Cardiff at six o'clock, when we reposed our-
selves at Mr. Bradley's comfortable house, the
Angel inn.
The town of Cardiff is neat and handsome,
situated at the mouth of the river Taafe, from
which circumstance, it probably, by an easy
corruption, derives its name.*
Its chief ornaments are the church and cas*
tie; the latter an old Gothic edifice, fitted
up some years since by Mr. Holland, the small
surrounding pleasure-ground being laid out,
at the same time, by Mr. Brown, and occupy-
ing the scite of the ancient castle. A wall
flanked with towers formerly surrounded the
town, of which some traces may yet be seen.
These, together with the castle, were built by
the Norman baron Robert Fitz-hamon, who
possessed himself of Glamorganshire in the
* Caer and Tyf.
[ 47 ]
year 1090, an event of considerable importance
in the history of this county, and thus related
by the translator of Caradoc of Lhancarvan :*
" About the same time also died Cadifor
** the son of Calhoyn lord of Dyfed, whose
" sons Lhewelyn and Eineon moved GrufTydh
" ap Meredith to take up arms against his so-
" vereign Prince Rhys ap Tewdor, with whom
" they joined all the forces they could levy
" among their tenants and dependants j then
" passing with their army to Lhandydoch,
" boldly challenged Rhys to fight; who there-
" up9n gave them battle, and after a resolute
<f engagement on both sides, the rebels were
" at length worsted, and put to flight, and
" then so narrowly pursued, that Gruffydh ap
" Meredith was taken prisoner, and in fine
" executed as a traitor: but Eineon made his
" escape, and, not daring to trust himself with
" any of his own kindred, he fled to lestyn
" ap Gurgant lord of Morgannwc, who was
" then in aftual rebellion against Prince Rhys.
" And to ingratiate himself the more in lestyn's
" favour, he promised, upon condition of the
" performance of certain articles, one of which
. * Powcl's Hist, of Wales, p. in, et infra.
C ]
" more especially was, that he should receive
" his daughter in matrimony; that he would
" bring over to his aid a considerable body of
" Normans, with whom he was singularly ac-
" quainted, as having served a long time in
" England. These articles being agreed to
" and recorded, Eineon posted to England,
" and in a little time brought matters so about,
" that he prevailed with Robert Fitz-hamon
" and twelve more knights, to levy a strong
" army of Normans, and to come to Wales to
" the prote&ion and aid of lestyn. The be-
" ginning of the following year they landed in
" Glamorganshire, and were honourably re-
" ceived by lestyn, who, joining his power to
" theirs, marched to Prince Rhys his domi-
* e nions, where, without the least shew of
" mercy to his own countrymen, he encou-
" raged the Normans, by his own example, to
" spoil and destroy all that came before them.
" Prince Rhys was mightily grieved to find his
" country so unmercifully harassed; and tho'
" at this time very antient, being above ninety-
" eight years of age, he could not refrain but
" meet his enemies ; and having with all pos-
" sible speed raised a convenient army, he met
" with them near Brecnock, where, after a ter-
" rible fight, and a great slaughter on both
" sides, he was unhappily slain, With him
-." fell the glory and grandeur of the principa-
" lity of South- Wales, being afterwards rent
" in pieces, and divided into several parts and
" piece-meals among these Norman captains,
<e as shall be by and bye more particularly re-
" lated. Prince Rhys left issue behind him, by
" the daughter of Rywalhon ap Confyn, two
" sons, GrufTydh and Grono, the latter of
" which was detained prisoner by the King of
" England; though the author of the winning
" of the lordship of Glamorgan affirms that
" he was slain, together with his father, in
" this battle against the Normans.
" The Normans having received a sufficient
" reward from ' lestyn, upon the account of
" their service against Prince Rhys, returned
" to their ships, in order to their voyage home-
" ward. But before they could loose anchor
" to sail off, Eineon recalled them, being un-
" gratefully affronted by lestyn, who abso-
" lutely refused to make good to him the con-
" ditions which they had agreed upon before
" the Normans were invited to Wales. Upon
" this account, Eineon was so irreconcileably
s \ incensed against lestyn, that to be revenged
E
upon him, he was willing to sacrifice his na-
" tivc country into the hands of strangers;
" and therefore endeavoured to persuade the
" Normans concerning the fatness and ferti-
" lity of the country, and how easily they
" might conquer and make themselves mas-
" ters of it. But he needed not many argu-
" ments to persuade a people that were willing
" of themselves, especially being encouraged
" thereto by a person of some esteem in the
" country; whereupon, without any more
" questions, they presently fell to their busi-
" ness; and from friends became unexpectedly
<( foes. lestyn was much surprised to find the
" Normans, whom he had but lately honour-
" ably dismissed from his service, and as he
" thought, with satisfaction, so soon become
" his enemies; but perceiving a serpent in the
" hedge, and Eineon so amicably great among
" them, he quickly guessed at the reason, of
" which there was no other remedy left but
" to bewail the unnecessary folly of his own
" knavery. The Normans easily dispossessed
" lestyn of the whole lordship of Glamorgan,
" the most pleasant and fertile part of which
" they divided among themselves; leaving the
" more mountainous and craggy ground to the
[ 51 ]
" share of Eineon. The knights who accom-
" panied Fitz-hamon in this expedition were,
" William de Londres, or London; Richard
" de Grena Villa, or Greenfield; Paganus de
" Turberville; Robert de S. Quintino, or Quin-
" tin; Richard de Sywarde; Gilbert de Hum-
"frevile; Roger de Berkrolles; Reginald de
"Sully; Peter leSoore; John le Fleming; Oli-
" ver de S. John; William de Esterling, or
" Stradling. These persons having distributed
" that fair and pleasant lordship among them-
" selves, and considering that they were much
" better provided for here than they could be
" at home, settled in Glamorgan, where their
" posterity have continued to this time. And
" here we may observe, what a train of circum-
" stances concurred together, in favour of the
" Normans having possession of this lordship;
'" for had not Eineon, being vanquished by
" Prince Rhys, fled to lestyn, rather than to
*' another, or had not lestyn being so vain as to
" attempt the conquest of South- Wales, and
" to that end consented to the advice of Eineon ;
" there had been no necessity of inviting the
" Normans at all to Wales. And then, the
" Normans being arrived, had not lestyn un-
"i genteelly violated his promise, and refused
[ 52 ]
" to perform the articles agreed upon between
" him and Eineon ; or had not Eineon pur-
" sued so desperate a revenge, but satisfied
" his passion upon lestyn, without prejudice
" to his country, the Normans would have
" returned home with satisfaction, and conse-
" quently could never have been proprietors
" of that noble country they then forcibly
" possessed."
Of the possessions which the Normans had
thus acquired, Fitz-hamon appropriated to him-
self the noble lordship of Glamorgan, running
east and west twenty-seven miles, and north
and south twenty-two miles. On his compa-
nions in the expedition, he bestowed less va-
luable manors, as follows :
William de Londres, the castle and manor
of Ogmore ;
Richard Greenfield, the lordship of Neath;
Paine Turberville, the lordship of Coity;
Robert St. Quintin, the lordship of Llan-
blethianj
Richard Seward, Talyvan ;
Gilbert Humfreville, the castle and manor
of Penmarej
Reginald Sully, the castle and manor of Sully ;
Roger Berkrolles, therrfanor of East-Orchard ;
[ 53 ]
Peter le Soor, the manor of Peterton j
John Fleming, the manor of St. George - y
John St. John, the manor of Formon ;
William de Esterling or Stradling, the manor
of St. Donat's.
All these possessions, however, were held of
Fitz-hamon, as fiefs ; and the several lords were
bound by their tenure to do personal suit and
service for the same, in his castle of Cardiff,
every monthly court-leet, in token of their
dependance upon the honour of Glamorgan.*
Whilst the cook was employed in preparing
some sewen for our table, (a delicious fish simi-
lar in appearance to the salmon-trout, and, I
believe, peculiar to the south-western coast of
Wales) we strolled round the town, and vi-
sited the castle.
On entering the gate of the structure, as we
passed the high tower on the left hand, (the
most ancient part of the remains) we could
not refuse the tribute of a sigh to the memory
of the unfortunate Robert Curtoise duke of
Normandy, the eldest son of William the Con-
queror, and brother of Henry I. who, after
* Hence it is, perhaps, that the assizes are now held
Cardiff twice a year, in spring and autumn.
. [ 54 ]
being robbed of his birth-right by this inhuman
relative, was at length confined by him in this
tower of the castle of Cardiff for life. The
apartment is still shewn, a damp and wretched
dungeon, into which a ray of light, just suffi-
cient to render the horrors of the place visible,
is admitted by a small square hole cut through
the wall towards its top. Nothing can evince
the heroism of Robert's mind, or display his
calm resignation more fully, than the fa6t of
his spending twenty-six years in this hor-
rible prison: so true is the observation of our
great bard,
ff He that has light within his own dear breast,
" May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day:
" But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts,
" Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ;
" Himself is his own dungeon."
Humanity forbids us to believe what is sug-
gested by some historians, of Robert once
endeavouring to make his escape; which so
enraged his brother, that he ordered him to be
deprived of sight, by the application of a burn-
ing-hot brass bason to his eyes!
We were not much pleased w r ith the modern
improvements of this place. Nothing assimi-
lates with the august entrance. The neatness
[ 55 ]
of a nicely-mown lawn, of sloping velvet banks,
and winding gravel walks, but ill accords with
the roughness of an ancient ruin whith has
braved the blasts of seven centuries. The old
keep, also, rising up in the midst of all this mo-
dern polish, looks as if it were ashamed of it-
self; nor is the veteran kept in countenance by
the front of the present castle, the archite&ure
of which can be attributed to no particular
sera. In the house are several admirable por-
traits of the Windsor family, ancestors of the
present Countess of Bute, by Kneller and Dahl ;
and a particularly-curious one, with several
heads, by Hans Holbein. The consequence of
these respectable personages, however, seems
to have perished with them, for their represen-
tatives are but scurvily dealt by; being con-
signed to dust, damp, and cobwebs.
As we had determined to breakfast at Cow-
bridge, we rose at half past four yesterday
morning, and pursued our walk amidst such
harmony as amply repaid us for the loss of an
hour from our usual quantum of repose. It
must be allowed, indeed, that the effort of ri-
sing early is, as Boswell has observed in his life
of Johnson, an effort of a very serious nature;
but at the same time it should be recolle&ed,
[ 56 ].
that no exertion is more richly rewarded. Is
there any thing that can equal the beauty of a
summer morning in the country ?
" When the young day pours in apace,
" And opens all the lawny prospeft wide.
(C The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top,
" Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn;
" Blue through the dusk the smoaking currents shine.
. " Music awakes
" The native voice of undissembled joy,
" And thick around the woodland hymns arise."
Cold is the heart of that man who does not
feel, amidst a scene like this, a sentiment of
gratitude and joy that more than recompenses
him for the interruption of his usual slumbers ;
and he who has not a soul for nature's har-
mony, and is, " not moved by concord of
" such sounds," would be more an obje6l of
my suspicions, than the wight reprobated by
Shakespeare, the unfortunate organization of
whose auditory nerve prevented him from en-
joying the vibrations of the catgut, or the
squeaks of a wind instrument.
As we journeyed on, the country around
spread itself before us in a prospect of wide
magnificence ; but it was not till we reached
St. Lhhian's down, an elevated spot between
Cardiff and Cowbridge, that we saw it in full
[ 57 ]
perfection. A bolder view of the Bristol Chan-
nel was now unfolded, increasing gradually in
extent till it los,t itself in the ocean $ whilst to
the right the eye roved over the rich pastures
of the vale of Glamorgan. This may be called
the garden of South- Wales; a lengthened tract
of valley, sprinkled with towns and villages,
ornamented with elegant mansions, bearing
every appearance of the most productive ferti-
lity; and sheltered from the blasts of the north
by an undulating chain of lofty hills. With
these great advantages, one naturally expects
to find the husbandry of the vale of Glamorgan-
shire in a state of comparative perfection; a
glance, however, at the farms (except such as
are in the hands of the gentlemen of the coun-
try) is sufficient to convince us that it is, as yet,
very far from being so. The land, though re-
markably good, and letting from thirty to forty
shillings per acre, is exhausted by a succession
of crops repeated without mercy, and an im-
politic ceconomy which refuses a proportion-
ate supply of manure. The GJamorganshire
farmer will force his land to the following
rotation:
1st year, Wheat n 3d year, Oats
3d . > Barley, J 4th , Barley and Clover.
[ 58 ]
and repay its labours, perhaps, with only one
scanty covering of manure. Lime, which is
the natural produ6t of the country, and which
the scientific agriculturist converts to such
"beneficial purposes with respect to his land,
can scarcely be said to be an advantage to the
Glamorganshire farmer. By his indiscriminate
use of it on every sort of soil, he misapplies its
properties; and frequently rather injures than
benefits his farm, by the mistaken donation.
The efFecYof this bad agricultural system is
very obvious; the farmers, though renting bar-
gains from sixty to one hundred pounds a year,
on which they ought to make a decent liveli-
hood, are all miserably poor; their diet is of the
coarsest kind, and their cellars seldom afford a
drop of ale to comfort them after the labours
of the day. How then is it, (it may be asked)
that a system of husbandry so obviously unwise
is not altered, and a better one adopted? You
know the chara6ter of the common farmer,
my dear sir, too well not to give an immediate
answer because he is ignorant, obstinate, and
bigotted. Agriculture, though one of the ne-
cessary arts of life, and as such, one of the first
to which man paid any attention, has made a
slower progress towards perfection than, any
[ 59 ]
other. Connected as it is with manual labour,
it has been left, till within these few years,
almost entirely to those who, from the circum-
stances of birth and education, are very un-
likely to suggest experiment, or adopt improve-
ment. Little gifted with the faculty of think-
ing for themselves, they are dragged on by the
force of preceding example, like their own
ploughs, in one straight undeviating line, look-
ing neither to the right hand nor the left ; refu-
sing instruction, because they think it unneces-
sary; satisfied with their forefathers' plan,
because they consider it as perfect.
Happily, indeed, the business of husbandry
in England has, within these few years, been
attended to by characters that could give popu-
larity to any pursuit; and with such examples
before them, our farmers have made prodigi-
ous improvement in the art. The farmers of
' Glamorgan will also, in time, feel the influence
of this change for the better in our agriculture,
since the benefits arising from the improved
system of husbandry will be pressed upon
them with a conviction that prejudice itself
cannot resist. An enlightened Somersetshire
farmer, indeed, has already led the way to re-
formation, by taking the estate of Boverton
[ 60 ]
(about one thousand pounds per annum) in the
southern part of Glamorganshire, where his
skill and pains are repaid by a success hitherto
unknown in the county.
Though the state of husbandry, and the situ-
ation of the lesser farmers of Glamorganshire,
be thus unfavourable, we were much gratified
with the appearance of its peasantry. The
men are strong, sober, and contented ; the
women cheerful, a&ive, and handsome; the
children rosy, fat, and healthy. It is true, in-
deed, they fare not sumptuously every day ; but
their diet, when compared with that of the
English peasantry, may be called good living.
The Glamorganshire cottages are lett generally
at the low rent of fifteen or twenty shillings per
annum, and to each of them is attached a small
plot of ground for the cultivation of esculent
vegetables. The wages of the labourer upon
an average are about fourteen-pence per' day.
With this, and the advantage of his little gar-
den, he is able to procure for' his family bread,
cheese, and generally potatoes. The wife
also lends her assistance for this purpose, and
adds a little to the common stock by the fol-
lowing praftice : most of the Glamorganshire
cheese is made from sheep and cow milk, ..a
[ 61 ]
small proportion of the one mingled with a
larger quantity of the other. The milking of
the ewes being a tedious and difficult operation,
it is consigned to the wives of the neighbour-
ing cottagers, who perform it every morning
and evening. For this service they receive no
pecuniary reward, but, in lieu thereof, a meal
of sheep milk on the Saturday night, and an-
other on the Sunday morning. This they mix
with a sufficient proportion of skimmed .milk,
given to them by the adjoining farmers, and
form the whole into a rock-like cheese ; not so
rich, indeed, as Stilton, nor so highly-flavoured
as Parmezan, but furnishing a very savoury
variety in the meals of those who have nothing
besides but coarse bread and potatoes.*
We entered Cowbridge about ten o'clock,
well qualified to do justice to the good bre&k-
fast which we got at Mr. Bra^ley's inn. The
butter of Glamorganshire, you know, is univer-
* With resped to thes^e particulars relative to the agriculture
of Glamorganshire, I would observe that they apply only to the
vale of Glamorgan. To the western extremity of the county,
around Swansea, some difference arises with regard to the rent
of land, and the rate of wages. The pasture there letts for four
pounds per acre, the rent of cottages is about two guineas per
annum, and the rate of wages ten-pence per day at common
seasons, and one shilling in harvest.
[ 62 ]
sally famous, and the rolls of this town deserve,
from their excellence, to be as generally cele-
brated. Here it was our good fortune to en^
counter the friends mentioned in the former
part of my letter, the Mr. Th-m-s's ; a meeting
rendered the more agreeable to us, from their
promising to be our companions and condu&ors
through the remaining part of Glamorganshire.
Cowbridge, though a neat and handsome
country-town, afforded nothing particularly
worth attention 5 'we quitted it, therefore, at
noon, and descended towards the coast.
Our road for some miles was more pleasingly
diversified by objefts of curiosity, and pre-
sented more agreeable scenery, than any tral
of an equal distance we had ever before tra-
velled. About a mile from Cowbridge the
ruins of St. Quintin castle occur, so called from
its jSJorman possessor, who, as you have seen,
accompanied Fitz-hamon in his Glamorgan-
shire expedition, and was reAvarded for his as-
sistance with the fief of Llanblethian. The
country in the vicinity of this place, indeed,
exhibits, as it were, a nest of castles built by
these adventurers, who probably found it ne-
cessary to be in the neighbourhood of each
other, in order to afford that mutual aid which
[ 63 ]
the occasional attacks of the plundered Welsh
would render necessary. For it cannot be sup-
posed that a gallant people, like the South-
Wallians, would sit down tamely under the
violent privation of their property. In fact, it
appears that they frequently did make attempts
to recover possession of it. But as these were
only partial attempts, and not the effects of
general combination, they necessarily failed;
and had no other consequence than the evil
one of drawing upon themselves the increased
barbarity, and heavier oppression of the do-
mineering Normans.*
Quitting St. Quintin's, we wound down the
hill to the small, sequestered village of Llan-
blethian, which, from the opposite ascent, af-
fords a scene seldom equalled in point of
picturesque beauty; and pursued our w.alk
through a most pleasing country till we readied
the village of Llanwit-Major, six miles from
Cowbridge.
Inconsiderable as this place is at present, be
it known to you, that it was formerly a town
of great consequence, and made a respeclable
figure both in the British and Norman times.
* Powel, 1 1 8.
Towards the conclusion of the fifth century,
or early in the sixth, Germanus, bishop of
Auxerre, was dispatched to Britain by the Pope,
in order to extirpate the Pelagian heresy, which
had spread itself pretty generally through the
kingdom. The worthy prelate, on his arrival,
began to examine the causes which produced
this apostacy from the true faith, and quickly
discovered that it was owing to the ignorance
and corruption of the clergy. In order to re-
medy this evil, and to provide proper pastors
for the people, he determined to institute cer-
tain colleges, where those intended for the
church might receive such -an education as
should qualify them for the proper discharge of
their duties. Amongst others he founded one
at Llantwit,* placed it under monastic regu-
lations, and appointed Iltutus abbot of the
same. This soon became a famous seminary,
and some luminaries (such as they were) of the
middle ages, received their education at the
college of Llantwit. J It is curious enough that
a tradition of this institution is still current
* Llanwit by corruption ; in Welsh Llan-Iltut, die inclosure
or church of Iltutus.
J Lei. Script. Brit. p. 63. Usserii, Antiq. Eccl. Brit. p. 472,
et infra.
amongst the inhabitants of the village; and
what is yet more interesting, the spirit of it has
by no means faded away, since in this small
parish, which does not contain more than two
hundred inhabitants, there are no less than
three schools for the instruction of children.
The considerable walls and foundations of
buildings which were visible at Llantwit in
Camden's time, evinced its former extent. He
tells us it had many streets; but whether they
were memorials of its British magnificence or
not, I would not venture to conjecture. If Llant-
wit, however, were lessened in extent under
the Normans, it still continued to be a place of
respectability, since it thus became the resi-
dence of a feudal baron. An old stone edifice
yet remains, called the Hall of Justice., wherein
the lord's courts were held, and those enormous
juidicial rights (the jura regalia) exercised, which
rendered the noble, thus privileged, almost in-
dependent of the crown. One of these rights
was termed de furcis, or of the gallows; and
vested in the lord the uncontrolable power of
trying and hanging criminals. A vestige of
this obsolete privilege occurs in the name of a
road, called the Gallows-way, leading from the
[ 66 j
village to a spot at a small distance, where a
gallows is said to have formerly stood, and
\\here skeletons within these few years have
been found. Under the hall of justice is a
strong arched chamber, which, from its name,
(the dungeon) seems to have been destined to
receive the prisoners who were tried and con-
demned in the apartment above.
The tradition of the village is, that this
building owes its origin to the Flemmings,
who settled along the coast of Glamorgan in
the early part of Henry II. 's reign, and that one
of their chiefs made Llantwit the place of his
residence.* This tradition is strengthened,
indeed, by the appearance and language of the
inhabitants, who certainly do not resemble the
Welsh in -either point. There is not a trace of
the Celtic tongue amongst them, their dialecl
* These were jthe troops which had been introduced into
England by Stephen, and called Brabanons, a mixture of peo-
ple from several parts of Europe; but more particularly from
Germany and the Low Countries. One of the first acts of Henry
II.'s reign was to dismiss these foreign marauders from the coun-
try under William De Ypres their general. Part of them, how-
ever, went no further than Wales, and settled along the southern
coast of that country, where they would probably meet with a
welcome reception from their Norman friends, who had settled
there half a century before. Brady's Hist, of Eng. vol. /.
p. 246. RaptMy vol. /'. 333.
[ 67 ]
approaching nearer to a broad Somersetshire,
than to any other.
Accompanied by the schoolmaster of the vil-
lage, whose speculations upon the antiquities
of Llantwit, and its former history, were not a
little amusing, we visited the church. It is a
small plain . structure, having a more ancient
place of worship attached to its western end,
though this has long since ceased to be made use
of as such. In the former, the only thing worth
remark, is a wooden skreen, or altar-piece,
ornamented with a number of small Gothic
niches, and having two lateral doors for the
convenience of the priests retiring to change
their vestments. In the latter are two sepul-
chral stones, one certainly of Danish antiquity,
and the other a specimen of the sculpture of
the twelfth or thirteenth century. The chief
objects of curiosity, however, are to be seen in
the church-yard. They consist of several mo-
numental stones of the middle ages, some ha-
ving inscriptions, others without them, but all
ornamented with those gyrations, or lines in-
voluting and intersecting each other, called
Runic knots, or circles. The two which stand
on the northern side of the church, are 'particu-
larly curious"; of these, one leans against the
C 68 ]
northern wall, in shape cylindrical, tapering
gradually from the bottom, which is five feet
six inches round, to the top, which measures
little better than three feet in girth, and stand-
ing (though in an inclined dire&ion) about six
feet high. The face of this stone is divided
into several compartments by carved horizon-
tal lines, or fillets, which nearly encircle it, and
separate the different ornaments from each
other. The upper compartments are filled up
with the involutions mentioned above, called
Runic circles, and the bottom one is engrailed
in a neat and elegant manner. The greatest
singularity attached to this piece of antiquity
is a groove or channel four inches in breadth,
which runs from the top to the bottom on the
side standing next to the church wall ; but for
what purpose it is difficult to conje&ure, par-
ticularly as we could not discover in what man-
ner it terminated, a large portion ,of the stone
being hidden in the ground. The other stone
stands eret in the middle of the northern di-
vision of the church-yard, and exhibits a curi-
ous specimen of the sculpture as well as the
writing of the middle ages. Its form is that of
a long square, or, perhaps, more properly, of a
truncated pyramid, the upper part a few inches
C 69 3
less in breadth and depth than the lower;
nearly seven feet high and one foot thick. The
different faces of this stone also are divided
into small compartments, which contain a plea-
sing variety of different patterns of the same
gyrations and intersecting lines as the other 5
extremely well chisselled, and prettily designed.
Each front has an inscription; according to
Dr. Gibson they may be read as follows:
Samson posuit f Crux Iltuti,
hanc crucem pro Samson redis.
Animaejus. Samuel egisar. (forte excisor.)
Purporting to be a monumental column orna-
mented with the cross of Iltutus, erected by
one Samson, for the good of his soul, the work-
manship of Samuel the sculptor.
I know not that the date of these sepulchral
stones has been ascertained, and therefore do
not wilfully clash with any prior opinion by
attributing them to the ninth century ; when
by the frequent invasions of the Danes, and
their partial settlement in these countries, the
masonry of the Scandinavians had been pretty
generally adopted amongst us.
The particular ornaments observed in these
monuments, and which I have called Runic
circles, -were peculiar to the northern nations,
[ 70 ]
by whom they were considered as endued with
a sort of magical power. These knots were
of various forms, each particular form having a
peculiar virtue attached to it. Sometimes they
were composed of segments of circles, their
chords and arcs mingling with or intersecting
each other; sometimes of serpentine lines, form-
ing difficult and complicated involutions; and
not uncommonly of triangles and curves min-
gled together in agreeable and tasty patterns.
Honest Samuel, the mason of the stone under
consideration, seems to have been particularly
anxious to rescue his friend Samson speedily
out of purgatory, by his having introduced
into his workmanship every possible variety
of the Runic knot,* and combining all its
influences for the good of his soul.
Pursuing our route to the shore, our friends
conduced us by Boverton farm, a spot which
Camden is willing to make the scite of an an-
cient station, for the resemblance between its
present name and the Bovium of Antoninus.
No vestiges of Roman antiquity now remain,
though Baxter tells us that Camden had seen
* See much curious information on this subjeft. Keysleri
Antiq. Septen. p. 465.
[ 71 ]
considerable traces of an ancient city there.*
The skeleton of an old mansion-house, or plas,
as the Welsh term it, is to be seen, and what is
a more agreeable sight to the patriot and poli-
tical ceconomibt, a good system of husbandry,
applied with judgment, and pursued with spirit,
on a farm of several hundred pounds per ann.
Our object in visiting the coast was two-
fold ; to penetrate into a natural cavern in the
rock called Rennel's cave, (which, when the
tide is out, may be entered to the extent of
sixty yards) and to remark the curious stratifi-
cation qf the cliiT. The former we were un-
able to effetr, it being high water ; the latter
we had an opportunity of remarking at our
leisure. The cliff for some miles consists of
lime-stone rock, of that particular sort called
by workmen the blue lias; the strata of which
are shallow, uniform, disposed nearly in an
horizontal direction, and running parallel to
each other. The stone burns into admirable
lime, equally calculated for the purposes of
manure and building.
* Bovium apud Antoninum nomen dedit oppidulo Boverton
in Morgantica Silurum regione juxta quod & Sanfli Iltuti fa-
num est; quo in loco Camdenus noster plurima antiquae urljis
vestigia repent. Baxteri Glos. in Verb. 44.
[ 72 J
Though the cliff do not present to the eye
so formidable a descent as the famous one at
Dover, in the animated description of our great;
dramatic bard, yet it is sufficiently deep to
excite our wonder at the hazardous practice
which is very common amongst the inhabitants
of the neighbouring villages, at the proper sea-
son of the year. I mean the practice of gather-
ing the crithmum maritimum, or rock-samphire,
which gr6ws in great plenty along the ledges
and down the perpendicular sides of the cliff.
Shakespeare, you may recollect, alludes to this
mode of- livelihood, and calls -it, as he well
might, " a dreadful trade," for few avocations
are attended with so much danger. The me-
thod is simply this: the samphire gatherer
takes with him a stout rope, and an iron crow
bar, and proceeds to the cliff. Fixing the lat-
ter firmly into the earth at the brow of the rock,
and fastening the former with equal security
to the bar, he takes the rope in his hand, and
boldly drops over the head of the rock, lower-
ing himself gradually till he reaches the crevices
in which the samphire is found. Here he loads
his basket or bag with the vegetable, and then
ascends again to the top of the cliff by means
of the rope. Carelessness or casuality, in a
[ 73 ]
calling so perilous as this, will sometimes pro-
duce terrible accidents. Th-m-s related one to
us, which, though not terminating fatally, was
so full of horror, that to use a vulgar, but very
expressive phrase, it made our iblood run cold.
A few years since one of these adventurers
went alone to the spot we are speaking of, to
follow his accustomed trade. He fixed his
crow bar, attached the cord to it, and de-
scended the face of the rock. In the course of
a few minutes he reached a ledge, which, gra-
dually retiring Inwards, stood some feet within
the perpendicular, and over which the brow of
the cliff beetled consequently in the same pro-
portion. Busily employed in gathering sam-
phire, and attentive only to the objet of profit,
the rope suddenly dropped from his hand, and
after a few oscillations, but all without his
reach, became 'stationary at the distance of four
or five feet from him. Nothing could exceed
the horror of his situation: Above was a rock
of sixty or seventy feet in height, whose pro-
jecting brow would defy every attempt of his
to ascend it, and prevent every effort of others
to render him assistance. Below was a per-
pendicular descent of one hundred feet, termi-
nated by ragged rocks, over which the surge
[ 74 ]
was breaking with dreadful violence. Before
him was the rope, his only hope of safety, his
only means of return; but hanging at such a
tantalizing distance, as baffled all expectation
of his reaching it. Our adventurer was, for-
tunately, young, aftive, resolute; he therefore
quickly determined what plan to adopt; col-
lecting all his powers into one effort, and spring-
ing boldly from the ledge, he threw himself into
the dreadful vacuum, and dashed at the sus-
pended rope. The desperate exertion was
successful; he caught the cord, and in a short
time was once more at the top of the rock.
Keeping close to the coast, and enjoying the
magnificent scene which is formed by the Bris-r
tol Channel and the distant hills of Devonshire,
we soon arrived at the gardens belonging to St.
Donat's castle. Having been sadly neglected,
these are consequently much out of order, but
still exhibit a specimen of the stiff and formal
stile of laying out grounds in the seventeenth
century. They consist of a series of hanging
gardens or terraces, separated by stone walls,
and connected by nights of steps, ascending
gradually from the shore to the mansion. The
castle is a large turretted edifice, loftily situ-
ated, but quite out of taste, and built on a very
[ 75 ]
irregular plan. Little of the ancient structure
erected by William De Esterling, or Stradling,
(the Norman baron, to whom the lordship was
granted) remains; and what has been added
since, being built at different periods, form an
irregular whole, whose parts are dissimilar and
unconnected, and produce an effect every way
displeasing. We were particularly struck
with the incompatible ornaments of the prin-
cipal court, (which is of a polygonal shape, and
disproportionately low) small round recesses in
the faces of the walls, having within them the
busts of Roman Emperors and Empresses in
terra cotta, appearing to have been formerly
sumptuously painted and gilt. The mpst an-
cient building connected with the castle is the
look-out tower, which rises to a great height, a
little to the west of the castle, on the other
side of a deep ravine, forming the defence of
the castle towards that point. The little
church of St. Donat's is now almost hidden in
this quiet, beautiful, and picturesque glen.
Our associates, the Th-m-s's, procured us a
view of the inside of the castle, through the
favour of a clergyman, who is one of its inha-
bitants; for two or three families reside within
jts walls. There is little curiosity here, except
L 76 ]
the ornaments of the state apartments, which
are fitted up with the heavy wood-work so
much in vogue in Elizabeth and James I.'s time.
We were, however,' not the less indebted to
. the civility of the gentleman who conduced
us through the building, and congratulated
ourselves on the very different reception which
we had received, from that of & fellow-pedestrian,
who visited St. Donat's amongst the other
remarkables of Glamorganshire, about six
weeks ago.
This gentleman, who was alone, and accou-
tred in a manner similar to ourselves, had
taken, it seems, nearly the same route with us,
and being a man of much curiosity, his en-
quiries and observations had been very particu-
lar and minute. The disturbances in Ireland
were at this time at their height, and the co-
operations of the French with the rebels being
hourly expe6ted, the minds of .the Welsh pea-
santry (who are very anti-gallican) had been
filled with an unusual agitation and alarm j
which rendered them suspicious of every per-
son whose appearance was at all questionable,
and charafter not perfectly known.- Our tra-
veller, unfortunately, to the peculiarities of his
dress, and his extreme curiosity, added that
alarming symptom of an incendiary, a black
crofi, and therefore, it is not to be wondered at
if he excited to a great degree the suspicion of
the good folks of Llantwit. Probably, how-
ever, it would not have burst into action, had
not their fears been increased by the informa-
tion of an old woman from St. Donat's castle,
who, big with terror, posted over to Llantwit,
and assured its inhabitants, that a fierce-look-
ing fellow, with a pack at his back, a huge staff
in his hand, and with several other singularities
about him, had been taking plans of the castle,
and pumping her for information respecting it;
that he was even now concealed in the fields
of its neighbourhood, that she had every rea-
son to think he was a spy, and knew from his
tongue he must be an Irishman. This was
enough to set the 'hole village in a flame.
The old lady's sagacious conjectures of the spy
and the Irishman naturally suggested a third
idea, of his being Eagnd Harvey ', who at that
time was said to have escaped to Wales. Men,
women, boys, and girls, to the amount of se-
venty or eighty, instantly prepared themselves
for a pursuit; and armed with muskets and
pitchforks, sticks and staves, took the road to
.St. Donat's. The corn at the time happened
[ 78 ]
to be high, and it was natural to suppose the
objett of their search might be concealed
amongst it. Regardless of the crop, therefore,,
the whole party swept the wheat-fields, dashed
through the oats, and prostrated the barley;
but without success. One of them at length,
gifted with particular keen organs of sight,
pointed- out an objeft in the midst of a wheat-
field, which he affirmed to be a man. Another
corroborated the assertion, by swearing he saw
it move; and the whole corps were soon con-
vinced that it could be no other than the Hiber-
nian outlaw. The mmqueteers, therefore, drew
up in front, and approaching within one hun-
dred yards of the object, discharged at once a
tremendous volley upon it. Down tumbled
the unfortunate viclim, and forward rushed the
valorous troop to secure 4heir quarry; when,
to their unspeakable astonishment, mortifica-
tion, and confusion, they discovered on reach-
ing it, that they had not levelled the formidable
Bagnel, but their powder and shot had been
thrown away upon a harmless scare-crow, stuck
up by the provident farmer to frighten the
rooks and magpies from his wheat. Quite
ashamed of their mistake, the party had no
heart to follow the steps of our pedestrian faj-
[ 79 J
ther, who, unconscious of the universal agitation,
he produced, had made a sketch of the castle,
and was quietly sauntering on to Pyle.
We were much inclined to give great credit
to the heroes of Llantwit for their active loyalty.,
on this occasion, though it had been somewhat
misplaced, till Th-m-s shrewdly observed, that
as it was known one thousand pounds had been
offered for the capture of the Irish rebel either
alive or dead, it was probable their zeal might
be fiartly owing to a less patriotic principle. ,
In our way to the turnpike-road, we passed
a farm, which, both from its name and other
circumstances, led us to imagine it might have
been the scene of some desperate contest in
distant times. It is called Lechmore, a word
composed of two Saxon ones, signifying the
marsh of carcasses.* Tumuli, or tumjis, as they
are termed in Glamorganshire, have been
opened in a large field belonging to the farm,
called Hundred-Acres, which were found to
contain human skeletons. They probably
are burial-places of chieftains, who fell in an
engagement between the Britons and Saxons;
* Nominum Locorum Explicat. in voc. Lichfield ad Calc.
txM. Chfon.
C 8" 3
in which the latter seem to have had the ad-
vantage, by imposing on the spot a name com-
posed of Saxon words, allusive to the bloody
consequence of the battle.
The waning day would not permit us to visit
the small town of Ewenny, its ancient church,
and ruined priory ; we therefore took the turn-
pike-road toPyle-Inn, which we reached in time
to secure most comfortable accommodation'.
This magnificent house of public entertain-
ment was built of late years by Mr. Talbot, of
Penrise Castle, upon a plan large and conveni-
ent. It stands quite alone, in a beautiful coun-
try, and has therefore the quiet of retirement,
with all the advantage of extensive accommo-
dation. The house makes up forty beds, but
even this number is insufficient for the com-
pany who resort to it; for a gentleman of a
party which reached it after ourselves, was
under the necessity of sleeping last night on a
sofa. The small pleasure-grounds behind the
house are laid out with taste and neatness.
Our journey of to-day commenced with a
visit to Kynfig Lake, a pool of fresh ^vater, sur-
rounded by the sands, about a mile and a half
in circumference. At one end are the ruins of
a small castle, said to have been the reside'Hce
[81 ]
of Fitz-hamon, but probably without foun-
dation, as the conqueror of Glamorganshire
would have chosen a better situation, and a
larger mansion. Equally void of credit is the
popular tradition of a city having formerly stood
on the spot which the lake now occupies ; this
is a fable common to many places, of which
the famous Brecon-Meer, near Llansanfrayd, is
an instance; where, it is said, a great tower
(supposed by Camden to be Loventium) was in
times of old completely swallowed up. The
formation of a lake in the situation of Kynfig
Pool, is difficult to account for, unless we have
recourse to some secondary cause, such as an
earthquake, or the falling in or giving way of
the superficial crust of earth, by the absorption
of its foundations into some immense cavity or
inferior gulph, after being sapped and under-
mined by subterraneous waters; an opinion
which the least knowledge of geology will
render very probable.
Leaving the coast, we soon reached Margam,
a place of much resort, both on account of the
beauty of its situation and of several striking
objects of artificial curiosity. A noble hill of
great length and considerable height rises to
the north, and completely shdters it from the
o
[ 82 ]
cold winds of that quarter. This proud eleva-
tion is beautifully covered from top to bottom
with trees, which grow so uniformly, their
heads bending from the sea-breeze and taking
a northerly inclination, that they really exhibit
the neat appearance of a well-clipped hedge.
This circumstance gave rise to a pleasant mis-
take of a sagacious citizen of Bristol, who, in
surveying the beauties of Margam, expressed
his delight at the nice manner in which the wood
of the mountain was trimmed and sheered; but
observed, at the same time, the keeping of it
in such constant order, must be attended with
considerable exjience.
A lofty wall surrounds the buildings- of
Margam park, to protect the remains of an-
cient, and the specimens of modern art from
public pillage. The gardener, however, at-
tends to conduct company through the place.
Its most remarkable features are the ruins of
the old priory, aftd the sumptuous green-house
built by Mr.'Talbot, for the reception of his
orange-trees. A curious, and we thought an
unpleasant, effect arises on entering the place,
from the contiguity of edifices, built in stiles
of architecture so completely dissimilar as the
chapter-house and the green-house ; the one a
[ 83 ]
simple Gothic structure, the other a splendid
classical building. The emotions excited by
the former are destroyed by the latter, and the
mind is consequently perplexed with contra-
dictory and incompatible ideas. It concerned
us to see the beautiful circular chapter-house
in a state of dilapidation, that must speedily
reduce it to a heap of ruins; great part of the
roof has fallen in, the ribs which support the
remaining portion are giving way, and no care
seems to be taken to repair what is already di-
lapidated, or to prevent future injuries. This
chapter-house, and some unintelligible ruins
adjoining it, are all that remain ot the once-
famous abbey of Margam, a Cistertian house
founded by Robert earl of Glocester, grandson
to Fitz-hamon, A. D. 1147.
On entering the green-house, we were im-
mediately struck with the want of a &\& propor-
tion between the length, breadth, and height of
it. Every beauty is destroyed by an utter defi-
ance of all its rules, for it is impossible there can
be any beauty in a room one hundred and nine
yards long, and only twenty-seven yards broad.
It must be recollected, however, that the green-
house was built for a particular purpose, to re-
ceive a ' fine collection of orange-trees, so
numerous as rendered an unusual extension
[ 84 ]
of the edifice necessary. During the summer
the orange-trees are removed into the open air,
so that we saw the green-house under the dis-
advantage of its being empty, which. rendered
the want of symmetry still more striking. At
each of the extremities of this structure is a
small room, containing a collection, not large
but well chosen, of ancient marbles, and mo-
dels of ancient buildings. Amongst the former
we were particularly pleased with the figure
of a fawn, a most exquisite piece of sculpture;
in his hands he -has a fistula, on which he ap-
pears to have been playing ; something, how-
ever, attracts his attention, and calls up an
expression of archness in his countenance of
inimitable excellence. Over his shoulders is
thrown a panther's skin. A little Harpocrates
amused us much; the workmanship, indeed,
is not so fine as that of the former; but a ridi-
culous mistake has been made by some modern
repairer of statues: the right hand is raised
towards the chin, and the forefinger of it ori-
ginally pointed to the lip, as an emblem of
silence;* this having, however, been broken
off, the modern sculptor, ignorant of the cha-
racter of the deity, has turned the forefinger
* Hipocrates autem manu silentium indicit, indice ori" ad-
moto. Augustini Dial. Antlq. iii. 47.
[ 85 ]
down, and added a bunch of grapes to his left
hand ; thus converting the god of silence into
an infant Bacchus. A fine colossal bust of
Pallas, in Parian marble, is deservedly an object
of ad miration ; but it receives ,no additional
beauty from the ancient Roman Galea, which
is injudiciously fixed on her head. There are,
also, two beautiful sepulchral altars formed of
the same costly materials; one about eighteen
inches high, in commemoration of a Libertus,
or freedman, ornamented with most exquisite
sculpture, and bearing, on one of its faces, the
following inscription:
D. M.
T. FLAVIO
AVG. LIB.
NEREO
RROC
VAL XXXXVIII.
The other thirty inches high, the affe&ionate
-tribute of a widow, to the memory of her de-
parted husband and child:
LVCCEIA. HEBE]>E
SE. VIVA. FECIT
DIS. MANIBVS.
M. LVCCEIO OPTATO
COIVGl. SVO PllSSIMO ET
LVCCEIAE POSSILLAE
FILIAE 'SVAE PllSSIMAE QVAE
VIXIT ANNOS V ET MENS. III.
[ 86 ]
We .admired, besides, many other specimens
of ancient and modern art; several fine por-
phyry vases, two of white marble and great
size; exquisite copies of originals on the con-
tinent; a vast model of the Coloseum in pum-
mice-stone; a temple at Tivoli in cork ; another
of the triumphal arch of Titus of the same
materials, &c. &c.
The small shrubbery or pleasure-ground, to
the west of the building, is designed with taste.
In the centre is an artificial pond, round which
are placed, during the summer months, the
tubs containing the orange-trees. The largest
of them may be about fifteen feet high ; and
appear to be very vigorous and produ&ive.
It was with regret that we left Margam,
which may really be considered as a cabinet of
curiosities, combining so large a number of
beauties, natural and artificial, as seldom fall
to the lot of any one place. Our admiration,
however, was equalled by surprize at finding a
spot with such singular advantages, without a
residence upon it. ' ,
In walking to the church, we saw another
fine Runic monument, elaborately decorated
with the knots and involutions before-men-
tioned. It stands on a pedestal leaning
[ 87 ]
against the wall of a cottage, and bears an in-
scription, which we were unable to decypher.
A good specimen of the Anglo-Norman archi-
tecture occurs in the western front of the
church, but the inside of it is plain, and un-
adorned. The dilapidated chapel at the east-
ern end contains four table monuments of
marble, with cumbent figures on them of
branches of the Mansel family; three of the
sixteenth century, and one with Sir Lewis
Mansel and his lady, dated 1638, and finely
executed. It is to be lamented, that the want
of attention to the roof of the chapel will
quickly occasion the destruction of these mo-
numents. The ceiling has fallen in upon
them, and the figures, which are of gypsum,
have already received much injury.
We again took the road towards the coast,
and soon reached Aberavon, situated, as its
name imports, at the mouth of a river.* Our
object was the great copper-works at this
place, belonging to the Bristol company.
The ore, manufactured here into pig-copper,
is chiefly brought from Cornwall, having been
previously stamped, picked, and dressed; in
* Aber, harbour or mouth ; and av on, the British appellative
for river.
t 88 ]
other words, reduced to nodules, and freed
from every heterogeneous substance, with
which, in its crude state, .the metal is com-
bined. It is then put into the furnace, and ex-
posed to a certain degree of heat, in order to
deprive it of its arsenic. This goe^offby vo-
latilization, a process which it is easy to disco-
ver by the powerful smell of garlic that attends
it. The matter, thus divested of arsenic, is
exposed to another more intense heat; this is
called a roasting, and here it is freed of the
sulphur united with it, and which the force of
the first heat was not sufficient to dissipate.
As the copper, however, abounds more or less
with this substance, it is necessary to repeat
the progress of roasting in proportion to the
quantity of the concomitant; which is done
from five to fifteen times. During the latter
fusions, the copper gradually and perceptibly
increases its purity, till at length being let out
of the furnace, when completely liquified, it
flows, together with its scoria, into moulds pre-
pared to receive it, and formed of sifted earth.
There it is suffered to cool, and on inspe&ion
part of the mass is found to be fiure metal, an-
other proportion scoria, to which some copper
is united; and a third part refuse, from which
[ 89 1
no metal can be extracted. The second sub-
stance is again submitted to the furnace, and
after other fusions it yields all the metal which
had hitherto attached to it. The pigs of cop-
per, thus produced, are sent to the manufac-
turers to be prepared for the numberless uses to
which it is applied.
A mile from Aberavon, our road led us
through the small village of Baglan, a place
of the most romantic beauty. The country
indeed from hence to Neath, about three
miles, exhibits an uncommon variety of stri
king scenery.
We acknowledged, however, Britton ferry
(so called from there being a passage across
the Neath river at this place) excelled every
other spot, since all the features, which con-
stitute beautiful landscape, are here concen-
trated mountain and dale, wood and water,
rock and lawn. To the east and north rise
lofty hills covered with timber j the Bristol
channel spreads itself in front j and to the west
Neath river rolls its silver waters through
banks fringed with trees to the edge of the
stream. The sun, sinking slowly to his place
of repose, decorated the scene with a thousand
different tints. The groves echoed with har-
t 90 ]
mony; not even a breeze disturbed the glassy
face of the deep; all nature seemed at peace;
and inspired that absence of painful emotion,
that holy calm of soul, which the disciple of
Epicurus justly considered as the nearest ap-
proach the mind could make to supreme feli-
city. It was with some difficulty we could
drag J n from a spot which seemed to have
seized upon his imagination with peculiar
force; and we detected our young classical
friend in whispering an invitation to his Gala-
tea, to the romantic beauties of Britton ferry.
" Hie ades, 6 Galatea !
- " Hie ver purpureurn, varios hie flumina circum
" Fundit humus flores: hie Candida populus antro
" Imminet, et lentse texunt umbracula vites."
Lord Vernon has a small but elegant retreat
here, and adjoining to his house the church of
the village, embosomed in trees, makes a plea-
sing feature in the fascinating scene. It was
with regret we learned, that much of the en-
chantment that depends upon the rural quiet
and sequestered appearance of Britton ferry,
was likely soon to be destroyed, -by the intro-
du&ion of a canal to the village. This is the
artificial cut which goes t\velve miles up the
valley of Neath, and is now fast approaching
[ 91 ]
from that town to Britton ferry; it having been
found there is a much greater draught of water
for vessels of burthen, at the latter than the
former place. I scarcely need observe, the
alteration this will occasion at the fairy land
we have been describing, will only be pleasing
to those who are engaged in the commercial
concerns, of which it is destined to be the fu-
ture theatre. The noise and bustle of trade
effectually preclude those intellectual enjoy-
ments, serene contemplation, and philosophical
pensiveness.
The road from Britton ferry to Neath, for
the greater part, creeps along the side of the
hills to the eastward of the town, and conse-
quently commands a fine view of the vale called
Cwm Neath. We saw the grand features of
the scenery, but as evening had commenced,
the detail of it was scarcely discernable, it
was a view
" Glanced from th' imperfect surfaces of things,
" Uncertain if beheld." ,
We were not sorry, therefore, to enter the
town, which we did at eight o'clock, and fixed
ourselves at the Ship and Castle inn, attracted
by the good-humoured face of the little fat
[ 92 ]
landlord, Mr. Roteley, whose attention and
civility have not belied his cast of counte-
nance.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
Cataradfc
Ysgwd-Einion-Gam
MelUncourt
LETTER III.
TO THE SAME.
Brecon, Aug. I3tb.
WE have at length quitted Glamorgan-
shire, and parted with our friends, the
Th-m-s's, circumstances which we cannot re-
vert to without feeling considerable regret.
No district, perhaps, in the three kingdoms
exhibits such a variety in its scenery, as this
[ 9* 3
county; we have all the beauties of nature and
all the charms of art, the richness of a fertile
well-peopled valley, the wildness of rocks, th'e
thundering of cascades, the elegances of mo-
dern architecture, and the august remains of
ancient abbeys and castles. In my last, I at-
tempted some description of the monuments
of former art, which, having survived the inju-
ries of time, still adorn the southern part of
Glamorganshire. I have now to conduct you
to its northern division, to scenes of a different,
and, perhaps, of a more impressive kind, where
untamed nature
" Reigns supreme,
" 'Mid dreary solitude and sombrous shade.
" In awful majesty., she here displays
" Her wonder-working energy to man."*
The appearance of Neath, from whence I
last addressed you, does not prepossess the tra-
veller much in its favour. It is seated at the
* Glamorganshire, exclusive of its- scenery, is remarkable on
other accounts. The prodigious increase of its population, and
the growing consideration of its sea-ports, arise from its mineral
and metal trade, which every year increases beyond calculation.
This county and Monmouthshire are become the centre of the
iron-trade of the whole kingdom; Shropshire being in a great
measure exhausted, and Staffordshire considerably fallen off.
Iron, copper, lead, lapis calaminaris, brass, and tin-plates, are
either found or manufactured in Glamorganshire.
[ 95 ]
bottom of a valley, and on the banks of the
river of the same name; the streets are irregu-
lar and narrow, and the houses, with very few
exceptions, ill-built and incommodious. Its
population may be estimated at between two
and three thousand. The small ruins of its
old castle, built, probably, by Richard de
Greenfield, Fitz-hamon's companion, attracted
our notice; from the circumstance of one nar-
row piece of wall, which rises to a great height,
and being unsupported by other parts of the
building, threatens to crush the surrounding
cottages on the first hurricane that shall hap-
pen. We also paid a visit to the remains of
its abbey, situated about a mile to the south-
ward of the town. This religious house was
founded in the time of Richard de Greenfield,
who united with Constance his wife in giving
certain lands and tithes, around Neath, to the
abbot and convent of Savigny in France; the
brethren accordingly ere6ted a spacious monas-
tery on the spot, and dedicated it to the Holy
Trinity, but do not appear to have exercised
any power over its members. It shared the fate
of similar institutions at the Reformation, and
was then valued at one hundred and fifty pounds
[ 96 ]
per annum.* The ruins are of prodigious ex-
tent, but being in the immediate neighbour-
hood of the metal works, and inhabited by the
squalid families of the workmen employed
there, they do not produce the pleasing emo-
tions that religious remains, under different
circumstances, so naturally and generally in-
spire. We easily traced the ichnography of
the old church, which was of elegant architec-
ture and an immense size. A vulgar tradition
respe&ing the latter circumstance still exists
in the neighbourhood, that seven parsons could
preach in different parts of it at one time,
without being heard by each other ; a proof,
if it be a fa6t, that these worthy pastors had
neither the lungs nor energy of some of our
modern pulpit-orators.
We next visited the iron and copper works,
manufactories that promise to render Neath, at
no' distant period, a very different town in point
of appearance, to what it is at present. Two
immense blast furnaces, belonging to Messrs.
Fox and Co. are constantly at work, each of
them producing upwards of thirty tons of pig-
* Tanner, Not. Mon. 714.
[ 97 ]
iron every week. They are blown by iron
bellows, worked by a double engine? constructed
on the plan of Messrs. Boulton and Watts,
with a steam cylinder forty inches in diameter.
A fdundery also, belonging to the same firm,
attra6ted our attention; as we'll as another blast
furnace, and a foundery, the property of
Messrs. Raby and Co.;J two considerable cop-
per-works, the one belonging to Messrs. Roe
and Co. of Macclesfield, the other to the Mines-
Royal Company; and a noble chemical work,
the property of Messrs. Bewick and Home, in
which are manufactured sugar of lead, vitriol,
and the best and purest allum in the kingdom.
In addition to these sources of wealth, Neath
has a most productive colliery in its immediate
neighbourhood, which gives an incalculable
advantage to all its manufactories; 'as well as
a canal running twelve miles up its beautiful
valley, and conducting to its port all the pro-
duCt of the different mines and manufactories
that enrich this extensive cwm.
Having received very minute instructions
from our obliging- landlord, our party proceeded
* A double engine is one in which the steam a&s under> as
well as above the piston.
% These at present are at a stand.
H
[ 98 ]
up Cwm Neath, following either the course of
the river, or walking along the banks of the
canal, which runs nearly parallel with it. The
scenery of this valley is highly beautiful and
picturesque on each side lie lofty banks irre-
gular and abrupt, profusely mantled with trees,
but allowing, through this mass of shade, the
frequent appearance of the face of the rock.
As its direction is for some wiles almost recti-
linear, the town of Neath, the manufactories,
the shipping, and the sea, form cheerful fea-
tures in the distant view; while the more im-
mediate objects are, waving woods and rocky
banks, tumbling water-falls, and rapid streams -,
varied occasionally by small inclosures and
neat farm-houses. The little brooks which
lend, their tributary streams to swell the con-
sequence of the river Neath, murmur down
smaller vallies, at right angles with Cwm
Neath, exhibiting the same striking scenery,
though on a less scale.
Leaving Knoll* (the once celebrated, but
now neglected seat of the late Sir Robert
* The name of this mansion implies its situation, which is ele-
vated, and commands an extensive view. There aje, however,
objeftions to this situation; the town of Neath is too near to be
a pleasing objed; and the great manufactories stauding at the
i: 99 ]
Mackworth) on our right, we pursued the
canal, and at the distance of two miles from
Neath reached Aberdillis forge, the property
of John Miers, esq; where the crude or pig-
iron is formed into bars, and sent in that state
to another forge belonging to the same gentle-
man, further up the valley, called Inysygerwn,
to be manufactured into tin-plate. A scene of
great beauty shortly after occurred the plea-
sing cascade at Aberdillis mill; the fall, indeed,
is not so stupendous as some others in its neigh-
bourhood, but certain little local circumstances
render it very interesting. In order to survey
the scene to advantage, it is necessary for the
spectator to wade the river which flows from
the fall, and to plant himself under the oppo-
site bank, since a huge rock covers, as it were>
the front of the cascade, and prevents a sight
of it from the road. A roaring torrent, called
the Dillis, flowing from the mountains, is now
seen discharging itself through a rocky rent,
distance of not more than a mile and a half to the south-west of
it, the general prevalence of that wind must wrap the house in
highly disagreeable, and, perhaps, pernicious fumes, three-
fourths of the year. The house is now deserted, and falling to
decay; and the artificial cascade, from the circumstance of its
being in the neighbourhood of some stupendous natural tvater-
falls, is not worth the trouble of a visit.
[ '100 ]
darkened by the thickest shade, down a per-
pendicular descent of forty feet. Near' the
point from whence it tumbles, a rugged mis-
shapen mass of stone receives it, and, dividing
its waters, throws them out of their natural di-
rection, and creates two cataracts, which cross
and intersect each other in a most whimsical
manner. .The scene above is equally extraor-
dinary; the river overshadowed, with trees has
the appearance of issuing from an impenetrable
wood, and rolls over a rocky, laminated bed,
consisting of ledges not unlike a vast but irre-
gular flight of steps.
A little further an artificial curiosity afforded
us amusement the tin-plate works at Inysy-
gerwn. Here we contemplated, with astonish-
ment, the operations of machines of which
before we had no ideas rollers of such immense
power as reduced bars of iron two inches deep
to the thickness of a crown-piece, bypassing
them a certain number of times through their
revolving cylinders ; and scissars cutting plates
and bars in sunder of half an inch thick, with
the same ease that a fair sempstress would di-
vide a wristband. When, by the repeated
pressure of the rollers, the plate is reduced to
a sufficient thinness to receive the coating of
tin, it is cut by the scissars into sheets of a
proper size. These are scoured well with sand,
and immersed in an acid liquor, where they
are suffered to remain some time, and then
quickly and perfectly dried ; a process pursued
in order to clear them entirely from every speck
of rust, the smallest particle of which would
prevent the tin from adhering to the iron, as
no metal will combine itself with any earth,
and rust is nothing more th.an the earth of iron.
The plates, thus cleansed, are next plunged
vertically into a pot containing melted tin, the
surface of which is covered with pitch, suet,
or some fatty substance, to prevent the cal-
cination of the tin, and to make the surface
of the iron more inclined to receive its coat-
ing. By this immersion, the tin immediately
unites itself to the plates, and they are taken
out completely tinned; being afterwards well
rubbed with bran, in order to give them a
more brilliant appearance, they are packed in
chests, and sent to Neath to be shipped for
the London, Liverpool, and Bristol markets.
Quitting Inysygerwn, we crossed the canal
aqueduct, and soon found ourselves at Mellin-
court, a romantic village five miles from
Neath. Here is another large work of Mr.
[ 102 ]
Miers's, consisting of a blast furnace, a finery,
and a foundery; the whole apparatus of
which is upon an improved and stupendous
plan. The great wheel exhibits a periphery
of one hundred and twenty feet, and the bel-
lows, of a new construction, may be considered
as another wonder of modern mechanism.
They are easily regulated, but still some care
is necessary in the management of them, since
their action may be increased to such a degree
as to threaten the destruction of the whole
building. An accident <of this sort occurred a
short time ago, when, by giving them too
much power, an immense piece of timber,
which had been bought in Shropshire, and
cost Mr. Miers five hundred pounds, was
snapped in sunder in a moment.
At a short distance from the works we found
the celebrated cascade of Mellincourt, formed
by the fall of the little river Cledaugh, from an
height of eighty feet. The accompaniments
are good dark precipice and overhanging
woods; but the cataract itself is trifling, the
breadth of water being disproportionately in-
ferior to its length. You must recollect, how-
ever, that we saw it to. much disadvantage, the
season having been for some time very dry.
[ 103 ]
Indeed, the beauty of these natural curiosities
depends entirely upon the weather; to see them
to advantage, they must be visited during or
immediately after a heavy rain. A mountain
torrent, like the woman of a certain Greek
philosopher, is all impetuous rage, or all insi-
pid tameness. A storm of a few hours excites
it to fury; its passion, however, is but transient,
and as short a portion of fine weather lulls it
again to repose. The view from the rock
above is much more tremendous than that from
below: a dark, perpendicular, semicircular
chasm, the bottom of which is occupied by
troubled waters, and vast masses of stone riven
from their parent cliffs. While we gazed at
this impressive scene, we heard with astonish-
ment, and some little incredulity, the story of
a sow belonging to the mill, which was carried
over the face of the rock into the pool below,
and lived for some years afterwards- to grunt the
terrifying tale. A poor bullock, which expe-
rienced the same accident, was not so fortunate,
being literally beaten to pieces by the fall.
We now forded the river, (which is pra6tica*
ble only in fine weather) and took the banks
of the canal, continuing along its sides for three
or four miles, As we proceeded, the vale ra-
[ 104 ]
ther narrowed upon us ; its sides became more
abrupt and rocky, and the river, though hidden
in woods, convinced us of its proximity, by the
ceaseless roar of the waters over their stony
bed. At the distance of ten miles from Neath,
near to the side of the canal, we passed a pro-
ductive colliery, worked by Mr. Williams; and
shortly after Aberpergam, the seat of Mrs.
Aubrey, behind whose house are the iron-stone
works belonging to Messrs. Fox and Co. The
proprietors of both these mines avail them-
selves of the new cut through the vale, by
sending the materials of them down to Neath,
where the coal is shipped for distant markets,
and the iron-stone manufactured in Messrs.
Fox and Co.'s works at the Abbey.
Passing on for half a mile, we crossed a rail-
road, along which the stone-coal is brought
from the works of Mr. Leigh and Mr. Thomas,
to the side of the canal. The mine lies at some
distance to the left hand, and may be entered
through a long level. The stone-coal, which, I
believe, has as yet only been worked in South-
Wales, is of a very peculiar nature; it emits
considerable heat, with little light, and scarcely
any smoke, and on the application of blast to
it when ignited, is quickly blown out. With
[ 105 ]
these peculiarities, which, probably, are occa-
sioned by a deficiency of bitumen, the stone-
coal is of material use in the drying of malt,
and other operations, before only to be ef-
fecled by coaked-coal; hence the demand for
it is great. The mines, however, being in-
exhaustible, easily answer it, to the prodigious
emolument of their proprietors, who are ma-
king rapid fortunes by them.*
The character of the country became gra-
dually more wild and magnificent. The hills
swelled into mountains, and rock and preci-
pice occurred more frequently. We were
particularly struck with the contour of a moun-
tain, which rose to the north-east, barren and
rude to the greatest degree. Its name Craig-y-
Lfyn, ".the rock of the lake," bespeaks the cir-
cumstance that renders it remarkable a large
* The vein of stone-coal in Mr. Thomas's mine is nine feet
thick, and dips\ to the west one yard in twelve. It is cut and
delivered at the mouth of the level for one shilling per ton, and
sold at Neath for ten shillings and sixpence per ton ; sixpence
per ton is, however, given to the masters of the vessels receiving
it, by way of gratuity, and to encourage them to come again ;
an improper practice, as it is done at the expence of the mer-
chant. Mr. Williams's and Mr. Leigh's collieries come under
the same description. The stone-coal is sold at the same price
at Swansea as Neath, and a similar custom observed with respecl
to the masters of the vessels.
t This'is the miner's term for the inclination of strata downwards.
pool of water in one of its cwms, above a
mile in circumference.
Extremely pleased with our ramble through
the vale of Neath, we reached the Angel inn
at Pont-Neach-Fechan sufficiently early to
allow a survey of the neighbouring objefts of
curiosity before the close of the evening. This
little village is situated 12 miles above Neath,
and consists of about twenty houses, of which
four (too large a proportion) are ale-houses,
but none of them equal to our head-quarters
in point of comfort and accommodation.
English is spoken pretty generally here,
and the inhabitants are sufficiently cour-
teous to strangers, though, we could not but
remark, our welcome was the more hearty
after Mrs. Jones, the hostess, had discovered
that our companions, the Th-m-s's, could con-
verse with her in her own dear native tongue.
There is little interesting in the village itself,
if we except one practice, which, indeed, is
not peculiar to this place, but extends to all
the hamlets through Cwm Neath ; I mean
the singular use to which the ovens of the cot-
tages are applied. The peasantry all keep
dogs, and are surprisingly attached to these do-
mestic animals 5 in proof of their affection,
[ 107 ]
they allow them to occupy the ovens when
not engaged by a batch of bread, and a&ually
make beds of straw within them for their better
accommodation. The effect produced by this
custom is odd enough to a stranger; the moment
he enters a cottage, one, two, or three dogs pop
their, heads out of the oven-holes, and salute him
in a manner as strange as unexpected.
We had soon refreshed ourselves, and en-
quired for a guide to conduct us to some fine
scenery in the neighbourhood of Pont-Neath-
Fechan, when the son of our landlady very
good-humouredly offered his services on the
occasion. Our first object was some singular
earth-works on the banks of the Neath river.*
* The Neath river abounds with salmon, but the mode which
the country people adopt to take them is so destructive, as
must speedily lessen the number materially, unless it be either
altered or prevented. About and above Pont-Neath-Fechan, the
river is a rapid one, and the salmon, in consequence, are fre-
quently under the necessity of forming the spawning bed for
themselves. This they do by rolling with their noses a number
of stones together, about the size of an egg. When the fisher-
men meet with any of these spawning beds, which do not lie in
such a situation as shall enable them to strike the fish with fa-
cility, they destroy them altogether, and form others themselves,
near the banks of the river. Opposite these beds they build up
a kind of hedge, to cover their approach to the river, and when
the fish are in the very act of spawning, they strike at them with
-4 spear, and generally with too fatal a success^
C 108 ]
These banks, for the distance of one mile in
length, and half a mile in breadth, (on each
side the river) are lined with mounds, com-
posed of earth and stones, varying in their di-
mensions ; some being two or three yards long,
one wide, and one high ; and a few others of
five or four yards long, two wide, and one high.
They lie nearly in straight lines, running pa-
rallel to the banks and each other, but at un-
equal distances. Originally they must have
amounted to some hundreds; but agriculture
and inclosures have in several places destroyed
them; still, however, they are numerous. That
they are artificial, is sufficiently evident, both
from their formality, and the appearance of
<the excavations (on their uppermost side) from
whence the materials were dug to form them.
They cannot, notwithstanding, be attributed
to the quarrier, because they occur on spots
where his trials would not be made ; nor are
they the effeft of a mining adventure, since the
neighbouring rock is not a mineral measure*
Bearing the evident marks of remote antiquity,
they must be attributed to* distant ages ; but
* The miners 7 term for all matter under whicli minerals are
sually found.
[ 109 ]
v/hether they owe their origin to the Britons
or Romans, or for what purpose they were
intended, must be left to those who are more
deeply schooled in ancient earth-works than
ourselves.*
Following from hence the course of the
Xcath river for some time, we at length
reached one of its tributary streams, the little
mountain torrent Pyrddin. To this we at-
tached ourselves, and pursued for'nearly a mile
its romantic banks, where rock and wood, and
waterfall, occur with almost endless repetition.
We were led, however, to one particular spot,
which excels every other feature of the river
in point of beauty and magnificence; it is called
* It is well known the Romans were in this neighbourhood.
Traces of their presence here occur in many places. To the
north of these mounds, at the distance of three miles, there is a
Roman causeway, called in Welsh Sarn-Helen, or Helen's cause-
way, and on it the remains of an exploratory camp. Two
other earth-works of the same kind are seen to the north-east,
one at the distance of four miles, and another five miles off. In
the road to Myrthir-Tidfil, also, one mile from the spot we are
speaking of, is a bridge called in Welsh Pont-Dinas, the bridge
of the city, to 1 which a tradition attaches, of its having formerly
been the road to some memorable place. ,These circumstances,
thrown together, may, perhaps, authorise us to conclude, that
the mounds were Roman, and connected in some manner with
the stations of this people in the counties of Brecon, Glamorgan,
and Monmouth.
[ "0 ]
Ysgwd-Einion-Gam,* or Eineon's Crooked
Waterfall,, and exhibits, indeed, a wonderful
scene. A black precipice presents itself per-
pendicular, scooped by nature into an hollow,
forming the segment of a circle. The right
side of this chasm, looking up it, is fringed and
adorned with curious beautiful trees, such as
the mountain-ash, willow, &c. whilst the left
presents a face of rude and naked rock. In
the centre is seen the river, which, after tear-
ing through a gloomy narrow glen, throws it-
self, from an elevation of seventy or eighty feet,
in one grand unbroken sheet of water. The
beauty of the scene is heightened by a little
accidental circumstance an oak, as if planted
purposely for decoration, throws its waving
head over the stream, at the very point whence
it is precipitated down the face of the rock, and
adds much to the picturesque effeft. The goat,
also, is neither an infrequent nor an improper
appendage to it; here he is often seen skipping
about upon the ledges of precipices frightful
to behold, with perfe6t ease and unconcern.
Sometimes, indeed, allured by the ivy or other
* Ysgwd means a push, a jostle, a thrust ; and by an easy
metaphorical adaption is made to signify a waterfall, or wate<-
piubing down.
C i" ]
vegetables, which creep along the face of the
rock, he jumps down to situations from which
he can never return; in these spots he would
unquestionably perish, if he were not discovered
by its proprietor, who, in that case, in order to
relieve him, drops a rope with a slip-knot at
the end of it: this fastens round his horns or
his body, and either hauls him to the top of
the rock, or lowers him gently to the bottom.
The waterfall is approached by a rude and dif-
ficult road,, winding down the side of a preci-
pitous bank entirely overgrown with a variety
of shrubs, amongst which the wild rasberry
and wild strawberry are found in great abund-
ance, bearing a profusion of fruit of exquisite
flavour. This path was formed, it seems, by
Sir Herbert Mackworth, father of the late Sir
Robert, to whom the property belonged, and
who took great pleasure in visiting the cascade.
How frequently does it happen, my friend,
that what we most delight in proves our
greatest bane! Sir Herbert's partiality cost
him his life. The very last time he visited
Ysgwd-Eineon-Gam, in passing the road made
at his own expence for the express purpose
of an easy access to it, a thorn from one of the
bushes ran into his finger. A violent inflam-
mation almost immediately took place, this was
succeeded by a rapid mortification, which in a
few days put a period to his life.
Having spent an hour most agreeably amid
this wonderful scenery, we returned to our snug
little retreat, the Angel inn, by a nearer road,
which leads to a farm-house, and from thence
along the side of Cwm-Tawe (an immense glen,
with a mountain torrent roaring through it)
immediately down to Pont-Neath-Fechan.
On reaching the inn, our conductor further
obliged us by introducing to our acquaintance
a gentleman whose polite attentions must ever
claim our warmest acknowledgments.* This
is Mr. Gilbert Gilpin, a native of Wrexham,
who has been stationary at Pont-Neath-Fechan
for several months, superintending a specula-
tion in which he is engaged, in conjunction
with Mr. Barrow. Struck with the appearance
of the country, which 'abounds with minerals
* I cannot resist taking this opportunity of returning my own
particular thanks to this gentleman, for the favour of his subse-
quent communications relative to the mineralogy, manufactures,
and trade of Monmouthshire and Glamorganshire; communi-
cations the more valuable, as his intimate knowledge of the sub-
ject, his spirit of investigation, and his peculiar means of obtain-
ing information, render their exactness and authenticity un-
questionable.
[ "3 ]
and calcareous rock, these gentlemen took a
lease of the Marquis of Bute, of one thousand
acres of land in this neighbourhood, on a mi-
ning adventure ; and have lately opened, and
worked upon it with much success, a quarry of
a beautiful black and grey marble. Mr. Gilpin
has also discovered traces of former attempts
to work a lead-mine on the spot, and from cer-
tain indications (which, being an admirable
mineralogist, probably do not deceive him) he
entertains no doubt, that a very productive one
may be opened, as soon as peace shall allow a
free market, and render the speculation worth
pursuing.
Perceiving we were travellers of some cu-
riosity, Mr. Gilpin, with the candour that ge-
nerally accompanies intelleftual worth, and the
liberality that is not afraid of communicating
information to others lest they should be as
wise as ourselves, immediately offered his ser-
vices to attend us on the ensuing day up the
rivers Hepste and Felddta, the scenery of
which he was intimately acquainted with, ha-
ving been continually occupied "in examining
their beds for minerals and fossils of various
descriptions. The offer, as you may suppose,
was thankfully received on our parts, and Mrs.
[ 11* ]
Jones had immediate orders to prepare every
thing her larder afforded, that our friendship
might be cemented over a comfortable meal,
the whole party being voraciously hungry. No
sooner was our supper dispatched, tharr Mrs.
Jones gave us notice, that at a neighbouring
public-house the cottagers had met, and were
dancing to the sound of the village harp. The
idea of a genuine Welsh Ball pleased us highly;
and Mr. Gilpin having previously discovered
that our company there would not be consi-
dered as intrusive, we immediately adjourned,
under his auspices, to the scene of festivity.
, With regard to myself, I confess, that hap-
piness is always contagious; nor can I see
others merry, without feeling an emotion of
joy also; I cannot express, therefore, the plea-
sure I felt on entering the room. It was not,
indeed, very commodious, nor famously illu-
minated, being about fifteen feet square,
and having only one solitary candle of sixteen
to the pound. The party, however, which
consisted of twenty-five or thirty, made up for
every defeft; animated by the tones of their fa-
vourite national instrument, and enlivened with
the idea of the week's labours being termi-
nated, (for it was Saturday night) they entered
con amore into the business of the evening,
and exhibited a complete picture of perfect
happiness.
.Those who are at peace with themselves,
generally feel a kindness of heart towards
others ; our reception, therefore, was most cor-
dial, and though there appeared to be no par-
ticular arbiter degantiarum, yet the duties of the
office were not neglected; for men and women
individually solicited us to dance. As the fe-
males were very handsome, it is most probable
we should have accepted their offers, had there
not been a powerful reason to prevent us our
complete inability to unravel the mazes of a
Welsh dance. Tis true there is no great
variety in the figures of them, but the few they
perform are so complicated and long, that
they would render an apprenticeship to them
necessary in an Englishman. We therefore
Contented ourselves with looking on, and were
really astonished at the agility and skill which
these rustics displayed. Our surprise, how-
ever, was still more excited by the observance
of a custom, which, as it is not practised at the
"Bath Balls, we were not prepared to expect.
On a sudden the dance ceased, and the harper,
running his finger rapidly down the chords of
[116 ]
his instrument, gave the accustomed signal, on
which every gentleman saluted his partner three
or four times with considerable ardour. The
dancing then re-comrnenced with such spirit,
as convinced us that this interlude had added
to the energies of all the parties concerned.
I could not but recollect this was an ancient
practice,* and whispered as much to J n,
who regretted sorely that a good old custom,
which appeared to be productive of such ge-
neral satisfaction, should have fallen a victim to
modern refinement. The ball was concluded
by a contest of agility between two brothers,
who danced two distinct hornpipes with so
much power of muscle, variety of step, and in-
flexible perseverance, as exceeded every thing
of the kind we had seen. On our retiring, a
plate was brought round to receive our contri-
butions for the purchase of cwrrw, and we
* It was a practice formerly for the gentlemen to salute the
ladies at the commencement of some dances, a custom that
Shakespeare alludes to in that song of Ariel's:
*' Come unto these yellow sands,
" And there join hands;
" Court sled nubcn you have find khs'd,
" (The wild waves whist)
*' Foot it featly here and there."
TEMPLST.
[ "7 ]
thought a shilling each little eriough for the
entertainment we had received.
As our friends, the Th-m-s's, were now un-
der the necessity of leaving us, it was our in-
tention to have risen very early yesterday morn-
ing, visited the Felddta and Hepste rivers
before breakfast, and returned with them to
Pont-Neath-Fechan, that we might all have an
opportunity of attending the service of a Welsh
church. Our plans, however, were entirely
frustrated by the inclemency of the morning ;
a heavy rain had set in during the night, which
continued to pour with unremitting fury until
noon. Still it was dark and unpleasant; but
as Mr. Gilpin assured us we should see the
prodigious cascades on these streams in all their
grandeur, in consequence of the torrents that
had fallen, we determined to avail ourselves of
the remaining part of the day, and sleep at
Ystrad-y-Felddta, a village about six miles by
the diret road from Pont-Neath-Fechan. Ta-
king leave, therefore, with much regret, of our
agreeable companions, we left the latter vil-
lage at one o'clock, under the dire&ion of
Mr. Gilpin.
The turnfiike-road from this place to Ystrad-
y-Felddt'a is dull and uninteresting, .nit the
[ "8, ]
walk to it, by the way of the Hepste and Felddta
rivers, displays a succession of scenes beautiful,
magnificent, and sublime; scenes, however,
which have had hitherto but few admirers,
since they are so little known even to the in-
habitants of the neighbouring villages, that
some of the finest amongst them are, as yet,
without a name. Excuse me, then, should
my letter assume the minuteness and stiffness
of an itinerary : you cannot have the advantage
of such a guide as accompanied us, when you
traverse these romantic regions, and will re-
quire, consequently, all the assistance that par-
ticular description can convey.
On quitting Pont-Neath-Fechan, we struck
into the Myrthyr-Tidfil road, which runs pa-
rallel to the Hepste and Felddta rivers, (now
forming one united stream) and pursued it
about a mile ; an agreeable walk through ver-
dant meadows and gently-sloping woods. At
this distance we reached Pont-Dinas bridge,
where the scenery suddenly changes the hills
becoming divested of their softness, and starting
into ragged rocks and lofty precipices. One
huge cliff is particularly remarkable, called
Craig-Dinas, or the Rock of the City; this we
passed to the, left, and following the Dina.s
brook for a few hundred yards, arrived at the
first wonder of this valley, a singular natural
curiosity called Bwa Maen, or the " Stone of
the Sow."* ^ .
The name, like all the Celtic appellations,^
indicates its appearance and figure. It is a
huge mass of rock, of the . calcareous kind,
burning into excellent lime, and taking a beau-
tiful polish, becoming by these means a valu-
able black and grey marble ;f it consists of
several strata, disposed in directions most
whimsical and uncommon. The rock, which
protrudes itself from the parent mountain, pre-
sents a flat face, beautifully variegated, and
ornamented with a wonderful variety of trees,
and shrubs oaks, ashes, elms, hollies, haw-
thorns, ivy-bushes, lichens, and mosses j thickly
tenanted by ravens, jack-daws, and different
species of hawks, which build their nests, and
rear their young, inaccessible to the foot of
plunder, and secure from the hand of violence.
The form of Bwa Maen approaches to that of
a quarter of a circle, and its various strata pre-
serve the direction of this outline. The height
* See the Plate annexed.
f A quarry of this has been lately opened by Messrs. Barrow
and Gilpin, and worked with much success.
[ 120 ]
may be ninety or one hundred feet, and' the
breadth seventy or eighty; the curvature is
formed by a sweep made in the strata from
the left to the right. These continue their cir-
cular form till they reach the top of the rock,
when they assume a different one, and drop
suddenly to the earth, in nearly a vertical di-
rection. The number of strata thus oddly dis-
posed, may be seven or eight, and the area, or
part of the rock not occupied by these curved
strata, is filled up by others horizontally ar-
ranged.* How far they continue this fantas-
tic direction in the mountain is uncertain,
though they may be traced pursuing their cur-
vature about two hundred yards parallel to the
brook, which runs to the left of the rock. On
the right of the curved strata, the lime-stone is
thrown out by a fault ^ and is. replaced by the
coal and iron-stone measures ;\ on the left also,
the rock is lime-stone, the property of Dr.
Bevan, of Neath, and Capt. Bevan, of the Gla-
* On examining the turning, or short sharp curve, made by
this capricious- alteration in the course of the strata, not the least
appearance of a crack is to be perceived in any part of it; a
proof that this dipping of them must have taken place when they
were in a fluid, or at least in a much softer state than their present.
t The miner's term for a fracture, or division in- the regular
strata of the earth. % The miner's term for all matter under
which minerals are usually found.
morgan militia. On this side it varies much in
depth, but in no part is it less than from fifty to
one hundred yards. Here the stratification is
very various; in some places nearly vertical, in
others moderately inclined, dipping to the
north-west ; whilst behind it the coal and iron-
stone measures are brought in again by an-
other fault.
Bwa Maen belongs to the Marquis of Bute,
and, I think I may venture to say, exhibits as
great a geological curiosity, and as remarkable
an example of singular stratification, as any in
the kingdom.
Though the principal objeft in this scene is
too flat and uniform to be picturesque, there
are interesting circumstances around it, which,
if distinft from Bvva Maen, would be highly so.
The rocky bank to the right, ascending abruptly
from the brook, is clothed with wood from
the top to the bottom. On the left a similar
elevation appears, more rude and bare than its
opposite neighbour; exposing a flat face of
mural stratified rock, but crowned with a noble
mantle of trees; whilst at its feet a roaring ca-
tarat tumbles from fragment to fragment,*
* Some of these fragments, or detached pieces of rock, are,
by measurement, of two hundred tons weight.
[ 122 ]
and separates it from the mighty detached mass
of rock called Bwa Maen. Here we found
reason to congratulate ourselves on having ta-
ken Mr. G.'s advice, and disregarded the rain,
for from that circumstance arose much of the
beauty of the spot we were contemplating.
The torrents which fell in the night, and the
showers that poured down during the morn-
ing, had given a charafter of fury to this moun-
tain-river, of which it is entirely divested in
dry weather. In moderate seasons, this fine
circumstance is entirely lost; the brook it-
self disappears, and entering a hole in the rock
about one hundred and fifty yards above the
curved strata, it becomes invisible for a quarter
of a mile, and then discharges itself from an-
other aperture into the Felddta river, a little
below Dinas bridge.
Following our excellent guide, we left this
sublime scene, ascended with considerable dif-
ficulty the steep hill to the right of it, and passed
over the head of Bwa Maen, from whence we
had a singular bird's-eye view of the thunder-
ing torrent, and the rocky glen through which
it poured its impetuous waters. From hence
we again scrambled down a precipitous decli-
vity, to the margin of the same brook, in order
to see to the best effet an immense perpen-
dicular lime-stone rock, finely spotted with ve-
getation, with the Dinas river roaring at its
foot. The most curious circumstance of the
scene is a lofty crag, detached from the pre-
cipice, and rearing itself in solitary majesty.
This was too singular a sport of nature to
escape the observation of superstition, which
has accordingly connefted it with supernatural
agency. Its name is Ystol-Gwiddon, or the chair
of the witch ; and tradition relates, that it was
separated from the rock by one of these gifted
beings, who, when the neighbouring chieftains
were about to wage battle with each other,
used to plant herself on this aerial seat, and
weave the woof of human destiny ; the circum-
stance immediately suggested the fanciful tis-
sue of Scandinavian superstition, and the dread-
ful employments of the northern Parcae.
<( Now the storm begins to lower,
" (Haste, the loom of hell prepare)
" Iron sleet of arrowy shower
" Hurtles in the darken'd air.
<c Glitt'ring lances are the loom,
" When the duslcy warp we strain,
f< Weaving many a soldier's doom,
V Orkney's woe, and Randver's bane.
[ 124 ]
" See the grisly texture grow!
ee ('Tis of human entrails made)
" And the weights that play below,
" Each a gasping warrior's head !
" Shafts for shuttles, dipt in gore,
" Shoot the trembling cords along;
" Sword that once a monarch bore,
<f Keep the tissue close and strong."
We continued along the brook to the end
of the rock, and then took a narrow goat's
path, winding -up the side of the, declivity,
which led us to a wild common, command-
ing a view of the two Alpine rivers, Hepste and
Felddta, and their magnificent banks. Here we
met with a considerable vein of the laminated
species of the vitriol ate.d terra./ionderosa, or, ac-
cording to the new vocabulary, the sulphate of
barytes-y which also contains some detached
masses of lead ore. It is leased by Messrs.
Barrow and Gilpin, and intended to be worked,
as soon as the price of lead (which in conse-
quence of the war is lamentably low) shall be
such as may offer any prospeft of advantage
to the lessees. A foot-way now received ami
conducled us through the common to Cul-
hepste farm, opening to us a glorious prospet
of the vale of Neath, the bay of Swansea, and
the Mumble-Head. Passing the farm-house,
[125 ]
(which is not more than two miles from Pont-
Neath-Fechan) we continued along the com-
mon towards the confluence of the two rivers,
Felddta and Hepste. Here we caught a view
of the banks of these streams, diverging from
each other, and presenting a pleasingly-diver-
sified scene, rock and wood, precipice and
slope, succeeding each other in most agree-
able alternation ; the whole enlivened by a stu-
pendous cataraft, tumbling down the rocky
bed of the He pste river. Continuing parallel
to this stream a few hundred yards, we
reached another waterfal of truly-singular ap-
pearance; it is called Culhepste cascade, and
is formed by the whole river, in one un-
broken sheet of water of five or six and thirty
feet square, pouring over the ledge of a flat
rock. This it does with such violence, as to
assume in its descent a sweeping dire&ion,
forming a segment of a circle, and allowing
a passage between itself and the face of the
precipice over which it falls. Under this ca-
tarat we passed, and strange to say, were
sheltered by the watery arch above us, for ten
minutes, from a very severe shower, that hap-
pened to fall whilst we were at the place. The
road is nothing more than a rude natural ledge.
[ 126 ]
where the hand of art has never ventured to
exercise itself, and not more than three or four
feet in width j but with all this apparent dan-
ger about it, it is a common way, both for
men and cattle, who frequently pass under
Culhepste cascade, as a shorter cut to some of
the neighbouring hamlets. Having passed
this extraordinary turnpike-road, Mr. G. led
us by wooded serpentine paths, little known,
and less frequented, into a small romantic
valley, with the river Felddta rolling at the
feet of its perpendicular declivities.
At this point a grand scene suddenly burst
upon us. The stunning noise of falling water
had already prepared us for the sight of a stu-
pendous catara6t; but imagination, with all
her magical powers, could not delineate a
pifture so sublime as the one now before us.
Looking up the Felddta river, we saw a series
of connefted water-falls, forming one whole, of
inconceivable grandeur. The flood, enlarged
to an uncommon degree by a deluge of rain,
and pent up within a channel too narrow
for its increased bulk, tore over the rocks,
and rushed from ledge to ledge, with a fury
that produced a sensation on the nervous sys-
tem, as if the whole atmosphere around were
[ 127 ]
agitated, and the solid foundation of the rock
were shaken under our feet. The rage of the
torrent was such, as completely divested it, du-
ring its descent, of the appearance of water;
all was vapour and foam, and wild confusion.
Ascending the hill to our right, we lost sight
of this overpowering scene, and again pur-
sued a rural foot-way, which conducted us,
through woods and inclosures, to another mag-
nificent cascade, but of a character perfectly
different to the falls we had just left. The
whole bed of the river is here separated in an
oblique direction, the lower division of it ex-
periencing a sudden perpendicular depression
of nearly forty feet ; down this descent tum-
bles a vast body of water, into a bed of
enormous rocks, presenting to us, from the
point where we viewed it, a superficies of
eighty or ninety feet broad, and half as many
in depth. Both this and the preceding na-
tural curiosities are so little known to the
inhabitants of the country, that they have
no particular names, though they certainly are
the grandest things of their kind in the whole
principality.
After feasting our fancies with a contem-
plation of this awful spectacle, we slowly de-
[ 128 ]
scended into a deep dale, and approaching a
yawning chasm in the rock, perceived the river
Felddta, like the classical Alpheus, rolling its
stream through a vast subterraneous cavern,
which it had entered about a quarter of a mile
above. Had the water been low, we might
have pursued its gloomy course through the
windings of this natural excavation, for nearly
one hundred yards, to an aperture on the left
hand, where it quits its secret bed, and again
emerges into day ; but the floods preventing
us, we continued our walk to the valley, in
which it first shrinks from the light, and
hides its head in the rock. This is a scene
more solemn, though perhaps less grand, than
any we had hitherto contemplated; a pro-
found and gloomy glen, formed by the rockj
banks, approaching each other so closely,
as only to allow a narrow intermediate hol-
low, through which the river Felddta forces
a troubled passage. At the extremity of this,
arises a lofty precipice, shagged with shrubs
and mosses, almost impervious to the sun from
the surrounding woods ; and at its foot appears
a gaping fissure, arched and high, into which
the river Felddta rushes with foaming impe-
tuosity. The whole scene is romantic in the
[ 129 ]
extreme, and realizes, with the exception of
the noxious atmosphere of Avernus, the de-
scription of the Mantuan bard :
" Spelunca alta fuit, vastoque immanis hiatu,
" Scrupea, tuta lacu nigro nemorumque tenebris;
" Quam super haud ullse poterant impune volantes
" Tendere iter pennis: tails sese halitus atris
" Faucibus effundens supera ad convexa ferebat."
The chasm is called Porthogo, (the mouth of
the cave) and a woman, living in its vicinity,
ats as a guide to travellers, whose curiosity
leads them to inspet its interior."*
This singular scene closed the wonders of
the Hepste and Felddta valley sj a walk of
not more than eight or nine miles, but full of
grandeur, beauty, and variety.
*' In this track ,
" How long so e'er the wanderer roves, each step
" Shall wake fresh beauties, each short point present
" A diff'rent picture; new, and yet the same."
* I must again observe, that much of the sublimity of the
scenes which I have described, arose from the violent rain that
had fallen in the night. In fine weather the water is low, the
rivers tame, and some of the cascades invisible. To see them in.
perfection, the traveller must wait for rain, a delay that will be
amply repaid by the gratification which the scenery must pro-
duce. For this he need not wait long, as the country about
Ystrad-y-Felddta is seldom two days without showers.
K
[ 130 ]
Deeply impressed with grateful sentiments
towards Mr. G. who had accompanied us
four or five hours, in a very inclement day, we
took leave of him at Porthogo, and reached
Ystrad-y-Felddta, completely drenched, about
seven o'clock in the evening.*
Much of human happiness arises from con-
trast, a comparison of our present situation
with that of others, or with what our own has
formerly been. Seated by a good fire, there-
fore, with a bason full of boiled eggs, and a
tankard of cwrrw before us, you may suppose,
we felt no small degree of gratification, after
having been beaten by a pitiless shower, and
blown upon by a cold south-easterly wind, for
the whole afternoon without intermission.
Our apartments, it is true, were rather homely,
one being, the chandler s shop of the village, and
the other half filled with wool once dressed;
but neither the powerful smell of decayed
cheese, nor the Jess agreeable effluvium of,
rancid oil ; the hardness of flock beds, nor the
coarseness of dowlas sheets, could prevent us
from enjoying a slumber sound, sweet, and"
* When the water is low, the better, nearer, and pleasanter
way, from Porthogo to Ystrad-y-Felddta, is by the river-side.
undisturbed, of nine hours; the blessing re-
sulting from moderate fatigue.
Notwithstanding the low'ring appearance of
this morning, we buckled on our knapsacks at
six o'clock, and beat a march towards Brecon,
over a road dull and uninteresting, wild and
desolate. The only objects which led us out
of the direct tract were, a Druidical stone, and
a Roman way. They are immediate neigh-
bours, and occur at the distance of four miles
from Ystrad-y-Felddta, on the left hand. The
former is very conspicuous, and a sufficient
index of itself to the traveller. It is of secon-
dary granite, and measures eleven feet and a
half in height, and nine feet and a half in
breadth; its form rude, but approaching to
that of a rhomb, with the angles truncated.
The road lies about sixty yards from this mo-
nument of British antiquity, and is composed
of irregular loose stones, now in a great mea-
sure covered with earth, the dor sum flat, when
compared with the rounding of modern roads.
The country people call it Sarn-Helen, or
Helen's causeway, which leads me to think
it may be a branch of the military way of the
same name, that ran from Caernarvon, in the
' north 'of Wales, to Salisbury in Wiltshire.
[ 132 J
The ringing of the bells, as we approached
Brecon, informed us there was something more
than common going forward in the town; but
it was not till we reached the turnpike, that we
understood this signal of rejoicing was in con-
sequence of the Judges this morning opening
their commission of oyer and terminer here.
Hoping to reach the Angel inn (the head-
quarters of C i 11 and myself last year) with-'
out being noticed, we accelerated our pace,
when, just as we were in view of our place of
refuge, fortune (as if determined to mortify our
vanity) ordered it so, that the Judges should
issue forth from the very house to which we
were going, with their long train of attendants,
javelin-men, trumpeters, pages, &c. &c. Our
sudden surprise, and consciousness of riot be-
ing very respectable figures, (for we were once
more wet through) gave a certain sheepishness
to our appearance, that drew some looks of
curious enquiry from their lordships. The gen-
tlemen of the long gown too mechanically put
their hands to their pockets to secure their fees,
and the eager gaze of the tipstaves betrayed
their expectation of a job. C 11 and I were
for gliding down a neighbouring lane, and
hiding our diminished heads, till the procession
t 133 ]
had passed ; but J n, the Codes of our party,
disdaining flight, put himself at our head, and
boldly leading us by the formidable groupe,
lodged us safely in the Angel inn.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
Rliaiddr-Gwy
LETTER IV.
TO THE SAME.
**
Rlaiddr-Gvy, Aug. I4tb.
HT^O be remembered with respeft and affec-
-* tion, by those who have heretofore in-
terested us in any degree, is a very exalted
species of gratification; and can only be ex-
ceeded by the pleasure that arises from a con-
viction of having deserved those tributes of
.regard. The former satisfaction I have expe-
[ 136 ].
rienced more than once, during this second trip
into Wales, and been greeted with a warmth
by some friends of the last year, that convin-
ced me, I held a flattering place in their re-
membrance.
I am led to these observations by an adven-
ture that occurred to-day, to my companion
J n, which implicates also a worthy cha-
racter, with whom you are already acquainted,
honest Robert Lewis, who entertained C 11
and myself last year with so much hospitality
and kindness at his little retreat under the hill.*
Having once before travelled the turnpike-
road from Brecon to Bullth, I (unfortunately, as
you will presently see) resolved to take the old
way over the mountains, in order to vary, in
some measure, the walk of the day. C 11
and I, therefore, struck to the right on leaving
Brecon, while J n, in order to Ike some
pleasing features of the scenery, continued
along the carriage-road. On our meeting again
at the distance of fourteen miles from where
we had separated, he told us, that after an
hour's walk, he had been passed by a man on
a small Welsh poney, who was riding very
* Walk through Wales, pan i. p. 4J
[ 137 ]
smartly towards Brecon. A few seconds af-
terwards, he heard himself hailed by the tra-
veller, and turning round, the following con-
versation passed between them :
Stranger. " I beg pardon, sir, for stopping
'* you on your way, and should not have taken
" the liberty of doing so, if I hadn't seen in a
* c moment, from your good-humoured jolly
" countenance, that you would not take offence
" at it."
J n. ' None at all, my friend.'
Stranger. " I fancy, sir, by your knapsack
" and staff, that you are walking through our
" country."
3 n. c I am, my friend.'
Stranger. " Aye, well, for that matter, every
" one to his mind; though I confess I wouldn't
" part with little old dobbin, who has carried
" me for fifteen years, for the best pair of legs
" in all Brecnockshire. But pray, sir, are
"you from Bath?"
J n. 'Yes.'
Stranger. " Do you know Mr. Warner?"
J n. ' Intimately.'
Stranger, (eagerly.) " Is he of your party, sir?
J -. Yes, but, gone to Builth by the
old road." :
[ 138 ]
Stranger, (impetuously.) " G d bless his ho-
" nest black face; I'd ha' given twenty golden
" guineas to shal^e hands with him once more
" before I die, and if I hadn't been subpoe-
" naed to Brecon 'sizes, in a cause where I
" hope to serve a friend, I'd ha' gone back to
" Rhaiddr on purpose to have seen him. But,
" do sir, tell him that old Robert Lewis sends
" him his blessing, and hopes he never will
" pass through Brecon again, without calling
" at his cottage, and once more tasting his
" cwrrvo"
Full of his accustomed hospitality, my old
friend then desired that J n would turn with
him to his dwelling, and take some refresh-
ment; a request which he urged with so much
warmth and pertinacity, that it was with diffi-
culty J n could avoid complying with it.
The hour of the day, and the distance of his
residence, however, prevented a call of this
kind, and obliged our companion to take leave
of honest Robert; who loading him with good
wishes, and pronouncing another solemn be-
nedi&ion on the party he was going to join,
galloped off on his friendly errand to Brecon.
The country from Builth to Rhaiddr you are
already acquainted with. It was new, not-
[ 139 ]
withstanding, to my companions, who were
much delighted with the diversified scenery
the Wye murmuring over its stony bed to the
left, deep woods waving on its banks, and
lofty, rocky mountains shooting above us to the
right. The evening has been gloriously fine,
which gave a peculiar brilliancy of tint to these
interesting objects. We strolled, therefore,
quietly on, and did not reach the Angel inn till
late, where we have been received by Mr. and
Mrs. Evans with their accustomed civility.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
River Clarwen
LETTER V.
TO THE SAME.
Aberystwitl, Aug. IJtb.
X 71 7HILST we were preparing to depart
from Rhaiddr on Wednesday morning,
Mr. Evans recommended us o take a cir-
cuitous road to Pentre, (where we purposed
sleeping that night) by Cwm-Elan, which
would lead us not more than eight miles out
of our way. To us heroes of the foot, such
an addition was a trifle, we therefore deter-
mined immediately to follow Mr. Evans's
advice. . At the distance of two miles from
Rhaiddr, we began to perceive we should be
recompensed for any little extraordinary fa-
tigue, by the extreme variety and beauty of
the country. The valley here is enlivened by
the crystalline Clerwin, and sheltered from
the northern and eastern blasts by proud rocky
mountains shagged with trees. These were
the leading features of the scene, till we
reached Cwm-Elan, another romantic vale
about five miles from Rhaiddr, watered by the
little torrent Elan, from which it takes its
name.* We were immediately struck with
the singular combination of natural and arti-
ficial beauties at this place, of wild scenery
and elegant ornament; dark woos, a foaming
river, rugged rock, perpendicular precipices,
and lofty mountains, contrasted with rich
meadows, verdant lawns, neat inclosures, and
a handsome modern-built mansion-house.
For this agreeable appearance of cultivation
and civilized life, Cwm-Elan is indebted to
Thomas Grove, esq; of Fern in Wiltshire, who,
* This place has lately afforded an happy subjeft for the
elegant muse of the Reverend W. L. Bowles; who has favoured
the world with a short poem, entitled Coombe Ellen, replete
with his usual tenderness of thought, delicacy of sentiment, and
witchery of expression.
having lately purchased an estate of nearly ten
thousand acres in this part of Radnorshire, is
rapidly bringing it into a state of agriculture.
Continuing our walk a mile further, \ve
reached a rude Alpine bridge, formed of
branches of trees, thrown from rock to rock
across the river Elan, which dashes below it
at the depth of thirty feet:
" The foot-way plank, that leads across
" The narrow torrent, foaming through the chasm
*' Below; the rugged stones are wash'd and worn
ff Into a thousand shapes, and hollows scoop'd
" By long attrition of the ceaseless surge,
" Smooth, deep, and polish'd as the marble urn,,
" In their hard forms."
BOWLES, Coombe-Ellen.
Nothing can exceed the singularity of this
scene; the bed of the river is a schistus rock,
full of huge excavations of every conceivable
shape and size, of milk-white hue, rendering
the profound gulphs of water which they con-
tain more dark and horrible. We saw the river
in a tame state, as it had not been fed with rain
for several days; but it is easy to imagine that
its fury must be terrible, when, swelled with the
mountain torrent, it rolls through a channel
which offers so many obstacles to the progress
'of its' impetuous course, It preserves this
[ 144 ]
wild and singular charater for several miles,
confined within a rocky chasm, the sides of
which are perpendicular, and at times of great
height, discoloured with drippings, tinted with
mosses, and crowned with mountain-ash trees,
birch, and wych elms. So wild and grotesque
are the rocks which form the bed of the Elan,
that a lively imagination might suppose it to
consist of groupes of animals of every mons-
trous species, huddled together in the strangest
confusion; it brought to my recollection the
dreadful Scylla, and her howling dogs,
" Scyllam, et coeruleis canibus resonantia saxa :"
an impression rendered still more lively by the
roar of many waters, which is here kept up
with an indefatigable and ceaseless din.
Just as we were quitting the river Elan for
the Aberystwith road, a sharp-looking little
Welchman approached us. His countenance
was familiar to me, and the man's look of
recognition convinced me that I was not un-
known to him. On enquiry, I discovered him
to be a person who had accompanied C I]
and myself last year through Cwm Ystwith
lead-mine. Having mutually greeted each
other, I could not avoid asking after the wel-
[ 145 ]
fare of another person \vho was of our party
on the same occasion, Thomas Williams, the
one-armed fisherman.* Knowledge, my friend,
may be gathered from all quarters, and the
trifling incidents of a cottager's history will
sometimes furnish axioms for the moralist, or
hints for the legislator. The honest miner
informed me, that Tom had unfortunately
gotten into a sad scrape shortly after my
passing through Cardiganshire last year.-
Though deprived of one arm by the accident
I mentioned to you, he contrived to make very
good use of the other, and handled his gun
with the same skill which he exhibited in
throwing his fishing-line, Colonel J**nes, to
whom an extensive tradt of land in this coun-
try belongs, had repeatedly spoken to Thomas
on the subjet, and forbidden him to pursue
this illegal praftice, but without success.
After many offences, however, Williams re-
ceived a summons from the Colonel, who is a
magistrate, to attend at Hafod, and deliver up
his gun. Thither the delinquent went on the
day appointed, trembling with apprehension,
and anticipating all the horrors of fine and
* Walk through Wales, part i. p. 62.
L
[ 146 ]
imprisonment. The Justice appeared; the
gun was delivered up, and nothing remained
but the sentence of the law to be pronounced,
and the mittimus to be made out; when, to
the great joy and surprise of poor Tom, the
Colonel addressed him in the following man-
ner: " I am very sorry, Williams, that your
" necessities are such as lead you to illegal
* e praftices in order to supply them. Deprived
" as you are of the means of getting your
" bread, I have no doubt that times are very
" hard with you; but this, though perhaps
" some little palliation of your conduct, is no
" excuse for your ating against the laws of
" your country. Convinced, however, that you
" are at the bottom an honest fellow, and
" rather unfortunate than roguish, I will put
" you out of the way of being again tempted
" by want to do an unlawful aft. You shall
" be my woodward; and, I doubt not, will do
" the duties of the place diligently and faith-
" fully. Here, take your gun again; I shall
" not now be afraid to trust you with it."
The generous policy had its desired effet;
Williams, penetrated with gratitude, .thanked
his Honour ten thousand times, and swore he
would never in future poach a single feather
[ 147 ]
or hair of game; a promise which, I find, he
has religiously observed. Happy would it
be for civilized society, could a similar policy
be extended to the criminal jurisprudence of
States ! It is only by a long course of wicked-
ness, my dear sir, that man becomes callous
and irreclaimable. There are tender places in
the heart of every young criminal, which mild-
ness might affe6t, when punishment will not
reach them. Thousands also commit little
breaches of the law, impelled by dire neces-
sity, who would shudder at the idea of moral
wrong, if in happier circumstances; whom
confidence and lenity might save, but whom
suspicion and vengeance destroy for ever.
As we reached Pentre too late for a visit
to Hafod that night, we were constrained to
thrust ourselves into a small apartment at the
inn there, and pass an evening and night of no
great comfort. The next morning, however,
(yesterday) we left our quarters, and walked
over to Colonel J**nes's to breakfast, who,
with his usual hospitality, had favoured us with
an invitation thither. You are already in pos-
session of an outline of this very beautiful
place; an outline which I have to lament my
powers of description are inadequate to fill
[ U8 ]
up with truth and justice. Here all that is
natural, is grand and picturesque; all that
is artificial, characteristic and appropriate.
Wherever improvement has attempted to add
to the simplicity* to tame the wildness, or to
prune the luxuriance of the native scenery,
she has clone so under the direction of just
taste and sound judgment. Here
" Many a glade is found,
ic The haunt of wood -gods only; where, if art
" E'er dared to tread, 'twas with unsandall'd feet
" Printless, as if the place were holy ground."
The house, as I before informed you, is ele-
gant and commodious, built after the style
called modern Gothic; the interior superb,
but convenient; magnificent, but comfortable.
The exquisitely-beautiful tapestry, which fur-
nishes a noble drawing-room, is not to be seen
without admiration. We were, however, par-
ticularly struck with the library, elegant in its
plan, and valuable for its contents. This is an
otagonal * room, communicating on one side
with a noble green-house, by a pair of folding-
doors, and with the lawn, by the same means,
on another side. Round the interior .of this
room runs a colonnade of variegated marble
pillars, ^of the ancient Doric order, support^
[149 ]
ing a pediment of white marble, surmounted
by a light gilt railing, and forming a gallery.
This is filled with cases for the smaller books,
while the compartments below contain a vast
collection of valuable and rare publications,
methodically arranged, and carefully preserved.
The apartment terminates above in a dome,
the top of which forms a circular window for
the admission of light.
After breakfast the Colonel was good enough
to accompany us through that part of his
grounds which lies contiguous to his house ;
the longer circuit round his farm we could
not attempt, as it would have taken us a walk
of at least ten miles. Much of this beautiful
scenery I had visited last year, but to my com-
panions all was new and delightful. One
walk, however, had escaped me, and perhaps
the most romantic of the whole, where a very
happy natural circumstance has been taken
advantage of by, the Colonel, and a fine and
surprising effet produced by it. Proceeding
from a rude stone bridge, under which an Al-
pine stream rushes with noise and fury, we
followed its course upwards, by a walk formed
out of the rock, darkened with the trees that
ever -and anon throw their arms across the
roaring torrent. Pursuing the mazes of this
path for some time, the tumbling of a cataraft
. swelled upon the ear, when just at the point
where we hoped to gain a sight of it, a lofty
dark rock, rising immediately before us, termi-
nated the view, and seemed to oppose all fur-
ther progress. In this dilemma we observed,
to our right hand, an excavation in the rock,
of seven feet high and three in width; this we
were directed to enter, and having proceeded
through it a few yards, a sharp angle occurred,
which we turned, and caught at once a view
of a vast sheet of water, falling in front of the
other extremity of the cavern, from a great
height above into a gloomy barathrum at the
depth of many feet below it. The cavern,
which has been formed after a plan of the
Colonel's, is very judiciously managed, both by
bringing the spectator suddenly upon this thun-
dering object, and by admitting only a partial
view of it, so that the imagination is still left at
liberty to make its own additions, or pursue
its ideal creations.
We next visited some of the plantations of
Ilafocl, and observe'd with pleasure the impro-
ving appearance of its cultivated grounds.
Happily fpr this part of Wales, where husbandry
[ 151 ]
is but little understood, and miserably carried
on,* Colonel J**nes has taken it upon a scale
extensive, spirited, and judicious; keeping in
his own hands a farm of nearly five thousand
acres, he is gradually taming the wild scenery
of this country, and rendering its hitherto un-
profitable mountains useful and productive, by
a system of agriculture in which science and
taste go hand in hand together. His mode is
rather laborious, and in the first instance ex-
pensive, but eventually extremely profitable.
In proof of this, he has inclosed and cultivated
ground originally not worth more than two shil-
lings and six-pence per acre, which might now
be lett for forty shillings per acre. The plan is
this he first incloses the tract of land intended
* The farmers of this country are, unfortunately, badly off
for manure. The rock is chiefly schisms, and no calcareous
stone in the neighbourhood. Lime, therefore, can only be had
at a great expence; and those who use it, must be content to
purchase it in Pembrokeshire, together with the culm by which
it is burned. Every thing, from the nature of the ground here,
depends on a liberal use of this manure ; but the tenantry, being
at high rents, have not in general a sufficient capital for the land
they hold, and therefore cannot afford to purchase lime. What
they do manure, consequently, is scantily and slovenly done;
and this little benefit is soon rendered of no avail, by their after-
wards sowing oats or barley without interruption, until the pro-
'duce is scarcely more than the seed sown.
to be brought into cultivation, (most commonly
with a stone-wall) and drains it immediately.
He then lays on from two to three hundred
bushels of lime per acre, which is slacked by
water carried to the heaps, and ploughed in
as soon as possible. He begins ploughing be-
fore Christmas, and by June gets the land into
very fine. order, when he sows turnips, throw-
ing in at the same time a quantity of powdered
oil-cake, a manure which he finds of great ad-
vantage to the ground. These turnips are fed
off by sheep folded upon them. He next plants
potatoes, taking care to give the land another
good coat of manure, and afterwards lays it
down with oats or barley to grass, throwing in
twenty pounds of different seeds, and a bushel
and half of rye-grass per acre. His object in
this system is to lay down his land to grass as
soon as possible, rightly judging that a grazing
farm is more profitable than any other, as well
as more picturesque. In pursuance of this
plan, his present stock of cattle is very large :
two hundred head of cattle, and from two to
three thousand sheep, which will be by degrees
considerably increased. With respect to the
last-mentioned animal, he has tried many ex-
periments ; the result of which is, that the best
[ 153 ]
sheep for that country is produced from the
Cheviot breed, crossed with the Ryeland rams.
The Colonel's planting is carried on very ex-
peditiously, from the small size of his plants,
which he never wishes to have higher than a
foot ; of these, a man and boy will plant one
thousand in a day. The man makes a cut or
notch in the ground with his spade, this, by
pressing back the turf with the face of the
spade, opens, and a hole is formed to receive
the plant, which the boy following behind is
ready to put into it. This he does, and presses
with his two heels the turf close upon it. The
roots of the plants are previously dipped into
muck water, and finely-sifted mould.
The trees which the Colonel chiefly plants
are larch and beech, and both, particularly the
first, with singular success. He does not, how-
ever, confine himself to them, but plants of all
sorts every year about three hundred thousand.
Last year he greatly exceeded this number,
as appears from the following account :
300,000 Larch, from his nursery.
50,000 Birdies and mountain-ash, collected from the
woods.
200,000 Larch, different growths, from Scotland.
1^,000 Birch, ditto.
[ 154 ]
Alders, different growths, from Scotland^
2,000 Mountain-ash, ditto.
4,000 Beech, ditto.
22,OOO Wych-Elm.
597,200
The last season was rather against him, from
a long-continued drought which succeeded his
planting; some injury, also, occurred to his
Scotch trees, from their being long on their
passage, and, in consequence of it, heating conT
siderably. With both these drawbacks, hovv-
'ever, his loss was comparatively very small.
Such is the spirit, indeed, with which the
Colonel follows the laudable pursuit, that there
can be little doubt of his eventual success be-
ing at least equal to his trouble and expence.
I do not apologize to you, my dear sir, for
this long account of Colonel J**nes's system
of husbandry; you are, I know, too good a
patriot, not to venerate efforts like these, which
have a direct and obvious tendency to promote
the real interests of the country. You will
recollect also, that it is a subject which the
poet, the philosopher, the orator,* has not dis-
* Hcsiod, Virgil, Varro, Cato, Columella, Pliny, Cicero.
Omnium rerum ex quibus aliquid adquiretur, nihil est agricultural
melius, nihil uberius, nihil dulcius, nihil hoinine libero di^nius^
Cic. dc Ojjic. i. ckap. .v//7.
[ 155 ]
dained, which the wisest and best of mankind
have not deemed beneath their notice, or un-
deserving their laborious attention.
" Such themes as these the rural Maro sung
" To wide imperial Rome, in the full height
" Of elegance and taste, by Greece refin'd.
" In ancient times the sacred plough employ'd
" The kings and fathers of mankind 5
" And some-
" Have held die scale of empire, ruled the storm
" Of mighty war, then with unwearied hand
" Disdaining little delicacies, seiz'd
" The plough, and greatly independent liv'd."
After having passed a day and evening at
Hafod in a manner most agreeable, we left it
early this morning, with considerable reluctance,
in order to breakfast at the Devil's-Bridge.
This spot seems intended to be the scene of
perilous adventure to me, and were I super-
stitious, I should be tempted to avoid it in fu-
ture, lest a third visit (for there's magic, you
know, in the number) might be productive of
fatal consequences. The incidents of last year,
indeed, were only laughable ; the adventure ot
this was of a more serious nature.
Having breakfasted, I left my companions
at the inn, who were busied in writing, and
went to the bridge, in order to make a sketch
of that and the chasm beneath, for our friend
B-ck-r, to whom I had promised a drawing of
the scenery. Fortunately, I had taken, instead
of my own, the walking-stick of J n ; a stout
oaken staff, about four feet long, with an iron
spike at one end of it, such as the guides put
into the hands of those who travel through the
Alps. I passed the bridge, and got on the
eastern side of it, to a spot from whence I had
the arch and gulph in a good point of view.
The bank here consists of slate rock, or loose
laminae, giving way with the least pressure,
and sliding over one another; its descent is
very precipitous, measuring at least ninety
feet, and at the bottom a resistless torrent boils
through deep natural cauldrons, formed in
the rock by the constant attrition of the wa-
ters. I had crept with some difficulty to a
spot on this bank, and was preparing my
sketch-book, when the faithless slate gave way,
and in a few seconds hurried me down the
horrible declivity fourteen or fifteen feet. The
gulph was now immediately below, and seemed
ready to receive me, and no human means
appeared sufficient to prevent my inevitable
destru&ion . One moment only was allowed
for recollection and exertion. Providentially
C 157 ]
J n's stick was in my right hand j darting
this, therefore, into the loose fragments at
my feet, with that uncommon energy which
desperation gives, the iron spike made its way
into the firm ground, and afforded a support
for my right foot. Thus partially secured,
with my left hand I soon worked for myself a
seat in the declivity, by removing the loose
shale; here I placed myself, and then fixing
the stick again firmly into the ground, I re-
peated my labours with my left hand, and
thus by degrees worked myself up to the spot
from which I had originally slipped.
I trust I was not ungrateful for this instance
of providential protection, in an extremity so
desperate. My powers of reflection, however,
did not return to me, immediately, and even
when I went back to the inn, horror was so
strongly marked in my countenance, that my
companions, for a few moments, scarcely re-
collected their brother tourist.
There are two roads to Aberystwith, the
turnpike and a bridle road ; the latter of which
follows the banks of the beautiful river Ryd-
doll for several miles. This we determined to
pursue, and accordingly quitted the turnpike,
by descending a rugged and abrupt hill, to
to the right, about half a mile from the Devil's-
bridge. Here we found ourselves at once in
fairy land. The Ryddoll, a murmuring trans-
parent stream, meanders through a deep and
narrow valley, inclosed by high mountains,
the outline of which is most agreeably soft-
ened by extensive plantations of young oak
trees, scattered over the faces of them. All
is still and serene; the windings of the vale
circumscribe the view, while the mountains,
rising on every side, inspire the idea of unin-
terrupted solitude; of a spot entirely shut out
from the commerce and bustle of the world.
The scholar, indeed, without any great effort
of fancy, may imagine himself transported
into the happy vale of Tcmpe, the boast and
beauty of Thessaly, with the Peneus flowing
at his feet, and surrounded by the lofty sum-
mits of Ossa, Pelion, and Olympus. The quiet
character of the Ryddoll suddenly alters about
three miles from the Devil's-bridge, where it
assumes the troubled appearance of the North-
Wallian torrents. It -now enters a confused
congeries of slate rocks, the lamina: of which
are nearly perpendicular, and discharges itself
down a steep of fifteen or twenty feet. The
.best point of view of this cataract is from, the
[ 159 ]
rocks, about fifty yards below it. Here the
river disappears entirely. The principal ob-
ject is the fall, a sheet of silver foam; great
masses of rock form the fore-ground; and a
wooded mountain, nearly encircling the valley,
bounds the scene. Another beautiful water-
fal attracted our notice, about one mile and a
half further, where we crossed the Ryddoll, by
a bridge, which led us into an inclosed road.
The beauties of. our walk ceased here; the
mountains sunk gradually into sloping hills, in-
dicating our approach to the sea, and the river
lost its romantic and picturesque appearance.
One mile to the eastward of Aberystwith,
we passed Llanbadern-Vawr, and its old
church, the mother-church of Aberystwith,
remarkable for its large and curious yew-
tree. Here -we had a view of some earth-
works on the top of a hill to the south of the
river, thrown up in the year 1113, by Gryffyd-
ap-Rhys, who for some time besieged the
English forces in Aberystwith., A stratagem
of the latter proved fatal to a great part of
his army, for on a disorderly attack which he
made, an ambuscade judiciously, placed by the
English fell upon his forces, and according to
the historian, " so unmercifully cut them off,
" that scarce one man was left living."
Aberystwith is a very neat market-town, si-
tuated at the termination of the'vale of Ryddoll,
close upon the sea-shore. Being a bathing-
place, much company resorts to it in the sum-
mer season, where they find good lodgings,
and convenient bathing-machines. Formerly
it was well walled, and defended by a castle;
the latter built by Edward I. in 1277, of which
some considerable ruins remain. In the reign
of Charles the First, Aberystwith had a mint ;
and an indenture was granted to Thomas
Bushel, for the coining of silver pieces, to be
stamped with ostrich feathers on both sides.
I have not seen specimens of this patentee's
workmanship, but am told by Colonel J**nes,
who has two pieces, one of twenty shillings,
and another of ten, that the coins are very
handsome. The trade of Aberystwith is
inconsiderable; lime-stone and culm are im-
ported; and some few herrings caught by the
fishermen on the coast, more to the north, are
cured and shipped here. Formerly, great
quantities of fish were taken immediately off
the harbour, particularly in the year 1206,
when the glut was so great, as to become a
matter of record * they have left this shore,
however, for many years since, and nothing is
now caught but lobsters, fiat fish, and a few
salmon-trout, the appearance of a brace of
which on the table compels me to bid you
adieu.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
* Powel, 224.
M
LETTER VI.
TO THE SAME.
Madynlletb, Aug. 18tb.
P THHE laugh has been sadly against me to-
* day, and, I must confess, with some rea-
son. Not that the cap will fit my head alone,
since many a zealous brother antiquary is
equally qualified to wear it, as you will allow,
when made acquainted with the story.
[ 164 ]
The road to Machynlleth ascends a tiresome
hill of two miles in length, but recompenses
the traveller when he reaches the summit of
it, by a magnificent view of the ocean, and
the promontories and headlands which form
the spacious bay of Cardigan. Whilst we
were admiring this glorious scene, a man of
very decent appearance passed us in his way
to Aberystwith. Not knowing the track we
were to pursue, (for a short distance from
us were two diverging roads) we asked for
information on this subject. It immediately
appeared, that our friend was little qualified
to give it, his dialecY being a barbarous kind of
language, composed of English and Welsh,
with the proportion of about one word of the
former to ten of the latter. We made out,
however, that the left-hand road led to Machyn-
lleth, and the right (as we understood him) to
Kilgarran. You know, my dear sir, that I
have an ardent passion for Gothic remains ;
the moment, therefore, the honest man men-
tioned the name of Kilgarran, I felt the ama-
bilis insania strong within me; the noble ruin
of Cardiganshire rushed into my mind, and,
totally forgetting that we must have left it at'
least fifty miles behind us, I eagerly asked
[ 165 ]
whether or not there were an old castle at the
place he mentioned. " Yes," replied the man,
with some hesitation, " but Mr. Pool is not at
" home at present." As I did not conceive
there was any need of a ciceroni, to conduct us
round aruin, I instantly pressed my companions
to quit the Machynlleth road, and visit this
precious relic of antiquity. J n, who did
not admire an addition of twelve or fifteen
miles' to the walk of the day, seemed rather
averse to this deviation from the direct track ;
but I knew how to interest his mind in
the object, and immediately repeated, with all
the enthusiasm that I myself felt, Warton's
noble poem, the scene of which is laid in Kil-
garran castle:
" Stately the feast, and high the cheer :
" Girt with many an armed peer,
, tc And canopied with golden pall,
" Amid Kilgarran's castle hallj
" Sublime in formidable state,
" And warlike splendour, Henry sate."
This had the desired effect, J n and C.
C 11 were now " up to the game," and
quitting the man abruptly, we set off at full
speed, as if fearful that the old ruin would
run away from us, before we could reach
[ 166 ]
the spot on which it stood. We proceeded
for two miles, without seeing any thing like
the object of our pursuit. At length straining
my vision to the utmost, I discerned at a dis-
tance something like an old building, and ex-
claimed, with the rapture of the celebrated
geometrician, Evpyxa., Evpyxa: " I have found
" it, I have found it!" On we pushed there-
fore, and in twenty minutes reached the ruin,
when, lo ! instead of a castle, we found a dila-
pidated barn. " Well," said I, shortly after,
now I cannot be deceived, I see the extensive
remains spread along yonder valley." Once
more we clapped spurs to our heels, and,
defying the intense heat of a meridian dog-
day sun, laboured through lane, and over
field, " thorough bog, and thorough briar," for
another half hour, when in lieu of Kilgarran
castle, nought was to be seen, but a small
groupe of peasant's cottages, with their sheds
and out-houses. By this time the enthusiasm
of my companions was entirely exhausted, and
mine, I confess, like Acres's courage, was
" oozing out at every pore," when an old man,
a cobler by trade, with spe&acles on. his nose,
popping his head out of a cottage door, J n
asked him how far we were from Kilgarran
[ .167 ]
castle? " Alackaday," said the old man, who
fortunately spoke English, " there is no castle,
" gentlemen, in this part of the world. The
" only house of consequence, near us, is Czvrg-
" arran, the seat of Mr. Pool, which you passed
about four miles back." The antiquary, you
may suppose, looked a little sheepish on the
occasion j he was, however, in merciful hands,
who contented themselves with consigning to
old Nick all the ruins in the world, and swear-
ing they never would go castle-hunting again.
Aware that we must have come greatly out
of our road, and that to return would be adding
too much to our day's ambulation, we requested
the cobler to give us directions across the
mountains to Talybont, an inn half way be-
tween Aberystwith and Machynlleth. This
he did very minutely, and we followed them
with great care for two hours but without see-
ing anything like a human dwelling. Still we
kept on, and still without success; tillperplexed
by intersecting roads, which every step grew
less perceptible, we at length found ourselves
at the top of a mountain, perfectly at a loss
how to proceed. Rambling on for some time,
we discovered a solitary cottage at a consider-
able distance. To this we directed our steps,
[ 168 J
and were fortunate enough to find the family
at home, consisting of a man, his wife, and
sister. The first spoke a little English; and
(after understanding from whence we came,
and whither we were going) informed us we had
wandered considerably out of our road, and
were proceeding in a direcl line for the wild
elevations of Plinhimmon mountains, where
we must unavoidably have spent the night, had
we not luckily met with him. He added, that
we still might reach Machynlleth, before the
evening closed, provided we pursued his direc-
tions, as it was within the distance of eleven
miles over the hills.
During the whole of this conversation, we
could not avoid remarking, that the women
appeared to be very uneasy; but when he of-
fered to accompany us a little way, in order to
put us into the right road, their distress was
still more perceptible, and the wife, in par-
.ticular, seemed, by her -gestures, to intreat him
not to leave her. To these marks of anxiety,
however, he' only answered " nonsense, non-
sense;" and extricating himself from the
ladies who held him by the arm and coat,
he joined our party. On our enquiring the
cause of this evident alarm, on the part of
[ 169 ]
the females, he informed us, that our appear-
ance had awakened their fears; that they had
assured him, " We were either travelling rob-
" bers, or prisoners who had broken from gaol ;
" that the packs at our backs were full of the
" plunder we had picked up, and without
" doubt we should rob and murder him, when
" we had seduced him from his dwelling."
J n had taken with him from home a
map of North- Wales, and a small pocket com-
pass, and it was now we found their utility and
importance. By shewing and explaining these
to our conductor, he marked out what course
we were to make for, since every thing like a
path had long since faded away, and nothing
but untrodden heath was before us. We there-
fore rewarded the confidence of our guide
with a handsome present, and took leave of
him; who, after giving us very particular di-
rections, many blessings, and shaking us heartily
by the hand, (a token of kindness which these
mountaineers never fail to offer) committed us
to the wild hills of Merionethshire.
Examining occasionally the map, and look-
ing at the compass, we kept a straight-forward
course, reckless of paths, descending into the
vallies, and -climbing the mountains as they
[ 170 ]
respectively occurred. It was, indeed, a toil-
some mode of journeying; but we were fully
repaid for all our labour, by a view which sud-
denly opened on our gaining the summit of a
Jofty elevation. On the right rose the broad
majestic head of Plinhimmon, the father of
rivers, with all his dependant mountains j im-
mediately in front we had the black precipices
and shaggy sides of Cader-Idris; and behind
him, to the north-east, the sharp point of the
Arran seemed to pierce the skies. The great
bay of Cardigan, with the dark promontories
of Merioneth and Caernarvonshire to the north,
and the high cliffs of Pembrokeshire to the
south, with the ocean stretching to the horizon,
compleated the august scene. Descending
from this commanding height, we soon found
ourselves in a delicious little valley, which, from
the circumstances of the scenery round, we
could not help comparing to one of those beau-
tiful spots or islands of vegetation and social
life, that sometimes occur in the great deserts
of Africa. It was a close sequestered dale,
containing three or four cottages, neatly white-
washed, and covered with reeds. Through
this bottom a small river, clear as crystal,
poured its murmuring flood, overshadowed by
t 171 ]
a wood of various trees, amongst which the
ash, beech, and fir, formed most appropriate
and pifturesque ornaments. A narrow strip
of meadow, through which the river ran,
produced the little crop of grass that the in-
habitants were busied in getting in. This
labour was performed by men, women, and
children, all actively employed ; some of them
carried it home on their shoulders, others in
hand-barrows, whilst a third party filled and
drove the sleds made use of in Wales, which
drag upon the ground without wheels, and are
drawn by a little poney. All was animation
and industry. The scene enchanted us, for it
was rendered doubly impressive by the con-
trast it exhibited to that we had just quitted
barren mountains and unbounded prospers.
In hopes of procuring more particular direc-
tions than our map afforded us, we enquired
the way to Machynlleth of the villagers, but
not a soul of them could speak English; we
were therefore obliged to proceed without any
additional information. In the mean tin;o,
evening closed upon us, the rain began to fall,
and we heard the rumbling of distant thunder.
We therefore quickened our pace, but in spite
of our efforts, before we could reach any car-
[ 172 ]
nage track, the shades of night had fallen, and
wrapt us in complete darkness. Our situation
was certainly not very agreeable, as we had
every prospecl: of spending an inclement night
in the open air. We proceeded, however, but
were soon stopped by the thunder of a catarat,
which convinced us we were in the imme-
diate neighbourhood of precipices and gulphs.
Whilst we were deliberating what plan to
adopt, the quick organs of C. C *11 caught
the sound of horses' feet, and finding in a few
moments that he was not deceived, we went
to the spot from whence they appeared to come,
where, to our great joy, we found a miller's boy,
who was returning from the country to Machyn-
lleth. We felt with additional force the good
fortune of this meeting, when he informed us
that we were again turning towards the moun-
tains, "on which we should probably have slept,
provided we had not been droivned in the torrent
we were just going to plunge into. The honest
fellow brought us safely to the Red-Lion inn,
where comfort and civility have made us forget
both fatigue and alarm.
Your's, &c..
R. W.
Craig-Gwya
to Dolgelly
Bwlch-y-groes
Llany-Mowddu
as-y-Mowddu
Malhvyd
Clyvion River
Machynlleth
LETTER VII. /
TO THE SAME.
Eala, Aug. 20/3.
OUR expedition becomes daily more in-
teresting. We have entered the wildest
part of the Principality, where the native
simple manners of the people yet maintain their
ground. We must not, however, expect to
find this originality of charater long amongst
even the inhabitants of the Merionethshire
mountains 5 the turnpike-roads, those means of
communication, and, I may add, of corruption
also, are excellent throughout North-Wales,
and render a visit to its wildest and most beau-
tiful parts easy even to the post-chaise traveller.
The gentlemen of the northern counties, de-
sirous of facilitating an access to their country,
have dire&ed their attention to the formation
of public highways, and overcome the ob-
stacles which nature opposed to them, carry-
ing their roads through rock and over mountain
with an unbamed perseverance and unyielding
spirit that do them infinite credit. But though
these accommodations of ease may be desirable
to the lazy traveller, they will subtract much
from the pleasure of the speculative one. To
him, the lofty mountain, the deep valley, the
thundering cataract, and the beetling precipice,
are but secondary objects; for he is^fltxt so
much in pursuit of natural curiosities, as of
moral singularities., original mariners, ancient
customs, local traditions, and national preju-
dices, which gradually fade away and disap-
pear, when an intercourse with other countries
becomes easy or common. Much of these,
however, are still to be found in the parts of
[ 175 J
Merionethshire, which we have travelled with-*
in these two days, particularly during our jour-
ney of to-day. The scenery and manners are
perfeftly Highlandish, and the national lan-
guage so universal, that scarcely a cottager
whom we meet was able to give us a single
word of English.
Our road from Machynlleth to Mallwyd,
where we slept last night, followed the course of
the Dovy, and presented us with many striking
beauties of landscape. The valley consists
chiefly of rich pasture, inclosed by lofty moun-
tains, some of which, particularly the Arran,
vie in point of height with the most lofty in
Wales ; through this the river rolls, a silent
majestic stream, in sweeping meanders, orna-
mented here and there with several neat cot-
tages, the humble but happy abodes of content
and peace. The scenery is greatly enlivened
by a variety of trees, thickly grouped in fre-
quent masses; amongst these, the mountain-
ash, with his splendid scarlet berries, makes a
gay and conspicuous appearance. Hitherto
we had always considered the fruit of this
tree useless, if not pernicious ; but to our sur-
prise we found, that in Merionethshire it waa
not only considered as a pleasant viand, but
[ 176 ]
manufactured also into an intoxicating liquor.
As we approached Mallwyd, a party of boys
attracted our attention, who seemed to be dis-
puting the property of some plunder which
they had in their hats. We questioned them
on the subject, but, as they did not speak Eng-
lish, received no answer. Looking, however,
into the hats, we saw a quantity of the berries
of the mountain-ash tree, which, to our great
surprise, a minute after, the boys, having set-
tled the dispute, began to devour most vora-
ciously. On enquiring afterwards at Mallwyd,
we found the peasantry considered these ber-
ries as a pleasant regale, and brewed from it a
drink to which they were rather partial. We
tasted the berries, but found them harsh and
acrid; and sipped the liquor, which was still
worse, sharp, bitter, and thick as puddle.
You cannot picture to yourself a more quiet,
peaceful, picturesque situation than that of
Mallwyd an inclosed vale, round which enor-
mous mountains shoot into the clouds in the
form of an ampnitteatre, shading it from the
heats of summer, and affording shelter from
the blasts of winter. At a small distance from
the village, an Alpine torrent rushes through
the valley, tumbling amid large masses of ,-dis-
[ 177 ]
joined rock, beautifully circumstanced with
trees and shrubs, pendent over the rapid stream.
At this spot is a stone bridge of one handsome
arch, and about one hundred yards above it
a weir and salmon leap, nearly ten feet high.
A few dwellings of the peasantry, with their
white-washed fronts and little gardens, which
rise out of the woods in the immediate neigh-
bourhood of the river, and the distant view
of the small village of Mallwyd, with the spire
of its humbled church, enlivened the scene,
by producing the ideas of social comfort and
domestic happiness. It is in truth a delight-
ful spot, and brought to our remembrance those
pastoral pictures which live in the elegant de-
scriptions of classical bards ; the happy regions
of Sicily, and the pleasing retreats of literature
and virtue, of Horace and Cicero, in the se-
questered valleys of Italy.
Having ordered dinner and secured beds at
the village inn, the Crossed-Foxes, we passed
the bridge I have described, in order to ascend
the mountain Camlin, and contemplate the ef-
fect of the setting sun on the contiguous hills.
It was a most laborious effort, but more than
repaid by the glorious scene which opened
on our reaching the summit. The Arran, a
N
[ 178 ]
mountain of peculiar form, and three thousand
feet in height, rose two or three miles to the
northward of us ; its sugar-loaf head resplen-
dently illuminated, while the cwms and preci-
pices of the adjoining mountains, in the shade,
were rendered still more dark and horrible by
this brilliant contrast. Behind, the whole vale
of Dovey, which we had just traversed, was
spread under our eye, with its river, villages,
and seats, lighted up by the rich rays of a
retiring sun. On each hand was " a tempes-
" tuous sea of mountains," of different heights
and distances, exhibiting a variety of beautiful
tints, lessening in vividness and splendour by
imperceptible graduations, till they were lost
in distance, and melted with the sky.
Our host, Mr. David Lloyd, who holds a
considerable farm in the neighbourhood, (a
practice with all the Welsh publicans, who,
by these means, are in general more opulent
and respeftable than the English landlords)
had provided for us a most substantial meal of
mutton-chops, bacon, and plumb-pye, beans,
and peas, at which his daughters, two girls of
pleasing persons, formed manners, and good
education, did us the honour of attending.
With these circumstances, and a mountain
[ 179 ]
appetite to-boot, we felt ourselves as great
as kings ; and agreed mm. con. that we would
not relinquish the pastoral scenery of Mallwyd,
our excellent meal, and pretty attendants, for
all the luxury of Lucullus, and the costly deli-
cacies of his Apollo's chamber.
The beauty of the evening induced us to
stroll into the church-yard, when it was quite
late. It is remarkable for several enormous
yew-trees, of which four measure fifteen, and
one twenty-seven feet in circumference. Trees
of this sort are, indeed, found in most church-
yards, but I have been in none where they seem
to flourish with the vigour, or spread to the
extent, that they do here. Their frequent oc-
currence in the receptacles of the dead na-
turally leads to an enquiry, for what purposes
they should have been originally planted almost
exclusively there. I believe the practice arose
from either a political or a superstitious cause.
The yew-tree, you know, furnished those admi-
rable bows which made the old English archers
so formidable to their foes; the propagation
and prote6tion of it, therefore, would be an ob-
j eft worth the attention" of the legislature; and
it is not unlikely, that in the early times there
might have been injunctions to plant yew-trees
[ 180 ]
in church-yards, as places least likely to be
violated, from the idea generally entertained
of the santity of the ground. The custom,
however, may lay claim to a more remote an-
tiquity, and a very different origin. Our an-
cestors, in .their heathen state, attributed a
considerable sanctity to many trees, particularly
to oaks and yews;* the latter of which became
an usual accompaniment to the graves of the
departed. " Here," says the bard in Ossian,
speaking of two lovers, " rests their dust,
" Cathullin ! These lonely yews sprang from
" the tomb, and shade them from the storm."
And, indeed, it was a very appropriate com-
panion to the tomb; since its perpetual ver-
dure rendered it an happy emblem of that
eternal youth and undecaying vigour the soul
will enjoy, when " this corruptible shall put
" on incorruption, and this mortal be clothed
" with immortality."
After a very early breakfast this morning,
we proceeded towards Bala. On quitting
Mallwyd, we passed (by a single-arched bridge)
the little river Clyvion, or sickly, so called, ac-
* Keysler's learned disquisition on this subjed.- Ant. Sept.
/>. 70* Edit. Han. 1720.
[ 181 ]
cording to tradition, from a bloody battle
fought in its immediate neighbourhood. The
character of this stream is so truly Alpine, that
we could not omit tracing its course for nearly
two miles, during a great part of which dis-
tance it rushes through a profound channel,
hollowed out of a black rock by its own inces-
sant agitation, and rendered additionally dark
by deep overshadowing woods. Had time
allowed us, we should have continued our
walk along the banks of this river for some
miles further, as the best mode of seeing the
beauties of a mountainous country is, without
dispute, to follow the meanders of its rivers ;
but we were recalled frorfi our ramble, by the
recollection that we had to traverse a remain-
ing five and twenty miles ere we could get
accommodations for the night. We returned,
therefore, to the road, and soon entered the
village Dinas-y-Mowddu, bedded like Mallwyd
'in the heart of the Merionethshire mountains.
In order to give as much variety as possible
to our day's peregrination, we took the Dolgelly
road for about two miles on quitting Dinas-y-
Mowddu, and then laboured up the mountain
called Craig-Gwyn x or the white rock, in order
to see some lead-mines which had been worked,
[ 182 ]
there. The shafts, however, are now filled up,
the stamping-mills are destroyed, and nothing
remains but the places which they occupied.
But though disappointed in this particular, we
did not regret having taken this additional
trouble, as the scene from the top of Craig-G wyn
was not only grand but new. The elevations
before us were a continuation of the mighty
Cader-Idris, and consisted of those steep preci-
pices and rocky hollows, which render the ap-
pearance of this primitive mountain so peculi-
arly striking. In the deep bottoms of these cwm s
were seen little groupes of cottages, with small
patches of cultivated land around them, where
the hinds were busied in getting in their scanty
harvest; from these the simple song of labour
rose upon the gale, and reached our ears in
softened harmony. A fine echo also lent its
magical effe&s to make the .spot more inte-
resting, and regaled us highly by repeatedly
reverberating the silver tones of J -n's me-
lodious voice.
After rambling for some miles on these com-
manding heights, we began to descend them ;
but so steep were these declivities,, and so
slippery the short sweet grass which covers
them, that C. C 11 and myself (who had
[ 183 ]
not the provident care of J n, to arm our
shoes with hob nails) were under the necessity
of walking down them barefooted. We reached
the low-lands near Aber-Gower bridge, which
crosses the river Cower, another Alpine stream,
whose waters work a lately-erecled carding-
machine, the only appearance of a manufactory
in this part of Wales. A short distance from
hence is Llany-Mowddu, a little village in which
we found only one person who could speak
the English language ; fortunately she kept the
public-house, and had just enough of our
tongue to comprehend that we wanted refresh-
ment, and to supply us with tolerable cwrrw
and admirable bread and cheese. Throughout
Wales, both south and north, we had constant
reason to remark the small size of the liquid
measures at the public-houses, but at Llany-
Mowddu it was particularly striking. The
pint, as we found by accurately measuring it,
contained little more than half an English one,
and the quart was equally under the legal size.
This, indeed, is the only instance of unfair deal-
ing which we observed in Wales, and accounts
for the sums of money accumulated by the
Welsh publicans, many of whom are worth from
one to- four thousand pounds. Universal obser-
[ 184 ]
vance seems, however, to sanction this custom,
and does away the displeasing idea of local
imposition.
The road now conduced us up Bwlch-y-
Groes, or the Pass of the Cross, by a long ascent
of nearly three miles. This is a remarkable
feature of Merionethshire an immense ravine
of great depth and length, running through
mountains whose declivities are nearly perpen-
dicular. Along the western side of this hollow,
is the road, (an admirable one, made at a vast
expence within these two or three years) gra-
dually ascending, till, at the distance of nearly
four miles from Liany-Mowddu, it reaches a
point of elevation which commands a mountain
prospel so sublime, as sets verbal description
at defiance. Just at the spot where this singu-
lar road takes a turn, in order to creep up the
first hill from Llany-Mowddu, an extraordinary
rock scene presents itself on the left hand.
The mountains, retiring as it were from each
other, sink their craggy heads, and form a
sweeping hollow, consisting of beds of rock so
curiously arranged, as to give no inaccurate
idea of a stupendous flight of stairs. This
depression suffers the eye to range into Cwm-
Arran, the awful recesses of one of the mightiest
[ 185 ]
mountains in Wales. Thither we went, and
were filled with astonishment at the objels
before us enormous rocks heaped on each
other, vast hollows scooped by the gigantic
hand of nature, their dark precipitous sides
many hundred feet in depth, frowning upon the
little vallies that were crouching at their feet.
Whilst we were admiring this unusual scene,
our attention was attracted by a feat performed
by a peasant, who exhibited such a specimen
of hardihood as astonished us. Peat is the fuel
of the country, and is only to be procured
on the spongy heads of the mountains. This
the cottagers cut (with an instrument not un-
like a marrow-spoon, supposing it to be angu-
lar instead of circular) into strips, about four
inches square and ten or twelve long, and bring
them home in small sleds, (without wheels) in
shape similar to the body of a waggon, capable
of containing two or three cwt. of peat. The
sled is drawn to the top of the mountain by a
little stout Welsh poney, with which almost
every cottager is provided, and there loaded
with fuel. Thus filled, it is dragged to the
brow of the mountain, the horse is disengaged
from it, and the man placing himself with his
back' to the load, precedes and conducts it
[ 186 ]
down declivities of perhaps a thousand feet
deep, and which literally appear to the eye to
be nearly perpendicular. Not having before
witnessed a feat of this kind, we were struck
with horror at it, and could scarcely trust the
evidence of our senses, when we saw the pea-
sant descending, with perfect coolness and
steadiness, a declivity which we would not
have clambered up for worlds, and a loaded
vehicle pressing upon him ; which, in the case
of one false step, would have overwhelmed and
annihilated him instantly.
The peasantry, indeed, in the neighbourhood
of this country, exhibit altogether a specimen
of singular manners. Until the formation of
the turnpike-road, which I have above de-
scribed, the use of wheels was scarcely known
here, the sled being the only vehicle made use
of. The small patches of land amongst the
mountains capable of cultivation, are not
brought into tillage by the plough, or manured
by the help of carts-, the spade being used for
the one purpose, and small hand-barrows for
the other. But notwithstanding that nature
has denied to these people a luxuriant soil, and
productive harvests, they still live comfortably
and happily. Every cottager (almost without
C 7 ]
an exception) keeps his poney and his cow,
the one to assist his labours, the other to furnish
him with food. Meat, indeed, he seldom
tastes, but his diet is not contemptible oaten
cake, or bread made by a mixture of wheat
and rye, hard cheese, potatoes, and excellent
butter-milk, furnish a meal substantial and
wholesome. The last article, however, is ge-
nerally diluted with water, and when thus pre-
pared, the beverage is emphatically called glas
ddu, or blue water. Fortunately for these
happy, simple people, the use of spirits is not
known amongst them; and the high price and
small measure of the cwrrw effectually prevent
them from injuring their health, and ruining
their families, by frequently intoxicating them-
selves even with this national liquor. I had
almost forgotten to observe, that the peasant ge-
nerally adds to his establishment a sow or a
hog; which, when fatted, he carries to market,
and sells to assist in paying his rent. These
are noble animals in Wales, of a large magestic
breed, and much more tame and gentle in their
manners than our English pigs. We attributed
this, indeed, in a great measure to education ;
for the hog in these highland regions is gene-
' rally considered as one of tine family, and is very
[ 188 ]
commonly seen reposing comfortably before
the cottage fire, with the children of the pea-
sant sporting around him.
As the evening closed, we wound down the
hills of Bwlch-y-Pawl and Rhyd-y-Bont towards
Bala, the moon rising behind us in full-orbed
majesty, and replacing the gaudy tints of day
which had faded away, by her own mild and
yellow light. Before we reached the lake of
Bala, night had fallen, and displayed a scene of
glory that awakened every pleasing emotion
of the soul. It was the night described by
Homer in his famous simile, or rather by his
admirable translator; who, perhaps, in this in-
stance has excelled his original:
" As when the moon, resplendent lamp of night,
" O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light,
" When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
" And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene j
" Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
" And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole ;
" O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
" And tip with silver every mountain's head;
" There shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
te A flood of glory bursts from all the skies."*
With the addition of one more image, a sheet
of water, the description would have been hap-
fiy y CT' cv tsgxvv xTtgx <pat(v>jy <xfs,<pi ffehyvw, II. yiii. 55 Z.
[ '89 ]
pily appropriate to the picture before us, which,
indeed, was strikingly beautiful. To our left
hand lay the lake of Bala, (along the margin of
which we walked) stretching four miles in
length, and almost a mile in breadth; its sur-
Jace, calm and unruffled, reflecting, as from a
mirror, the placid beams of the moon. To the
right all was wrapt in darkness, by the deep
woods which rooted themselves down from the
hill quite to the road. The mountains, swelling
gradually from the lake, bounded the prospe6t
all around, their gloomy recesses which were
in the shadow, finely contrasted by the mantle
of light that covered their exalted summits.
Amid a scene like this, it was impossible
to remain unaffected. Inspiration breathed
around, and every object awakened to enthu-
siasm. Separating, therefore, from each other,
we indulged, in solitude and silence, those emo-
tions which were most congenial to each of us.
I shall not tell you to what speculations the witch-
ery of the picture led me ; they were such, how-
ever, as occasioned a sentiment of regret when
we arrived at Bala, though the Bull inn, in addi-
tion toadmirable accommodations, has afforded
us a dish of gwiniads, and a leg of mountain
mutton.
Your's, &c. R. W
Denbigh
LETTER VIII.
TO THE SAME.
Hotywett, Aug. 23d.
T^HE town of Bala, though one of the most
* considerable in North- Wales, in point of
size and population, holds out no objects of
curiosity, and therefore did not detain us
beyond the noon of the 2ist, when we set
out for Ruthin. For two miles the road
gradually ascends, and then presents a noble
view of Bala Pool, seen from end to end, inclosed
on all sides by gently rising mountains, finely
backed with the rocky heights of the Arran,
and the more distant crags of Cader-Idris. From
hence, for five or six miles, it sinks into tame-
ness, till the great turnpike-road leading from
Llanrwst to Corwen crosses it at right angles.
Near this point is an object well worth the
trouble of deviating a mile from the direct track,
to see Glynn bridge, a scene which you may
recollect I described to you last year.* Desirous
that my companions should have the same sa-
tisfaction with myself, we turned into the
Llanrwst road, and pursuing it for about a mile,
arrived at this curious specimen of modern
masonry, with the mountain torrent rushing at
the depth of one hundred feet below the arch ,
a partial, but heavy shower had swelled its
waters to an unusual height, and given addi-
tional interest to the picture.
Continuing along the banks of this violent
stream, which displays the same features as
the other Alpine rivers I have described rock,
and cataract, and wood, we followed its mean-
ders till it again brought us to the Ruthin road,
* See Walk through Wales, parti, p. 165.
near a village called Bettws-Gwynfylgoch.
Here the sign of a small public-house, promi-
sing in plain English good entertainment for
the traveller, induced us to try the contents of
its larder. We were civilly received by its
landlady, a little sharp r looking woman, who,
with an expedition and activity we had never
before seen, supplied with food, almost at the
same time, ourselves, a traveller, his horse, a
cow, and a party of clamorous hogs. Our meal
was a sumptuous one cold gammon, lamb-
pye, bread, butter, and cheese : for all which,
the good woman would have been contented
to receive six-pence a-piecs, had our consciences
allowed us to " devour widows' houses" with-
out paying proportionately for the devastation
we had committed.
Three or four miles to the south of Ruthin,
we entered the vale of Clvvyd, the garden of
North- Wales, a rich traft of land, stretching
twenty-two miles in length and five or six in
breadth, watered by the river Clvvyd, and
sheltered to the north and south by long ranges
of lofty hills. The evening was so far advanced
that we could not gain a distinct view of this
fertile vale; we pushed on, therefore, forRuthin,
t 3
intending to reserve our observations till the
next day.
The town of Ruthin is large and populous,
situated on the river Cfwyd, at the south-east-
ern extremity of its celebrated vale. Like
most other Welsh towns of any consequence,
it was formerly defended by a strong castles of
which some small remains appear at the south-
ern end of the town, but are now converted to
much more pleasing purposes than hostile ones,
sheltering a neat bowling-green, formed within
them by the inhabitants for their occasional
relaxation. The church is a handsome mo-
dern edifice ; and if the pavement of the streets
were but smooth and regular, Ruthin would
be upon a par with some of our English towns.
But the general pra6lice throughout Wales, of
paving the streets with oblate oval pebbles,
their sharp extremities standing outwards, is
extremely unpleasant to those unaccustomed
to such treadingsj and a walk of twenty-eight
miles had not prepared us for being less sensi-
ble of the inconvenience. On reaching our
inn, We learned that the assizes, or great
sessions for the county, had been closed that
morning, and, as was generally the case, had
been a maiden assize, without the trial of a
[ 195 ]
single felon. Nothing, perhaps, places the
moral character of the Welsh in a higher point
of view, than the infrequency of trials for capi-
tal crimes amongst them. Throughout the
whole principality of North and South Wales
this year, there have been but two criminals
indicted for murder: a man at Caermarthen
for killing his father, and another at Brecon for
destroying his mistress. I would not make
invidious comparisons, but, I fear, were we to
consult the English calendars of criminals, we
should find the bloody lists swell to a much
more formidable size, (making all allowances
at the same time for difference of population)
than those on the other side of the Severn,
As soon as we had surveyed Ruthin yester-
day morning, we threw 'our bags over our
shoulders, and took the road to Denbigh, in-
tending to strike from thence to Caerwys, in
order to see the vale of Clwyd in every direc-
tion. We passed the bridge of Ruthin, there-
fore, and continued along the Denbigh turn-
pike-road, which skirts the western side of the
vale, making occasional digressions to any
village, hamlet, or seat, that appeared to be
deserving of notice. Little, however, of the
occurred in our walkj the vale of
[ 196 ]
Clwyd is too extensive to afford scenery of
that description. Unlike the charming vallies
of Llangollen and Conway, where the different
objects are brought nearer to the eye, which can
thus discriminate them, and dwell separately
upon their various beauties, the vale of Clwyd
exhibits a picture so immense, and so full of
objects, as produces a confusion, utterly incom-
patible with that repose which is a necessary
quality of the picturesque. It is, notwithstand-
ing, a beautiful and magnificent scene, and
impresses the mind with an immediate anima-
ting idea of population, plenty, and unbounded
fertility. The land of this part of Wales lets at
from thirty to forty shillings per acre per ann.
and the general system of husbandry does jus-
tice to the excellence of the soil. Clean fields,
liberal manure, small close hedges, and well-
drained meadows, evince a better agriculture
than is generally found throughout Wales.
Six miles from Ruthin we reached a point
Avhere the road divides, one branch diverging
to the right and another to the left, the former
being the new road, the latter the old road to
Denbigh. From hence this town makes a
most august appearance. The scite of Den-
bigh is a rocky hill, rising abruptly from th^
[ 197 ]
vale, and presenting to the south and west a
very precipitous descent; on the summit of
this elevation stand the extensive ruins of its
ancient castle, founded in the reign of Edw. I.
by Henry Lacey earl of Lincoln. The town
is built down the eastern declivity of the hill,
and extends quite to the vale. We ascended
the castle hill and entered its walls, within
the precin&s of which the ancient town was
confined. A large ruin occurs immediately on
passing the out-works, which seems to have
been a place of worship, and was probably the
church of the old town; it is the skeleton of
a huge pile, measuring one hundred and fifty
feet in length, and eighty in breadth. Leaving
this, we meet with a very magnificent Gothic
gateway, built in the rich stile of military archi-
tefture of the thirteenth century, over the arch
of which, in an elegant nich, is a sitting figure,
the mutilated statue of the founder. The other
remains of' the fabric consist of unintelligible
ruins, of walls, towers, bastions, &c. Thus
loftily situated, Denbigh castle must have been
a fortress of great strength and importance,
commanding a vast range of country, and over-
looking, the vale of Clwyd almost from one
extremity to the other. The present town is
[ 198 ]
neat and clean, and has many genteel houses,
and much good society in it.
Our road now conducted us immediately
across the vale of Clwyd, and afforded an op-
portunity of considering its lower and flatter
parts. The same appearance of good agricul-
ture presented itself here as in the higher
grounds; and we had the pleasure to see that
it was rewarded by the general appearance of
an abundant harvest.
Three miles from Denbigh, a noble brick
building to the right, semicircular, and very
extensive, attracted our attention; a bleachery
belonging to Lord Kirkwall. A few years since
this manufactory employed a great many hands,
but we were sorry to find, that it was now
falling fast into decay. The beautiful cot-
tage of Mrs. Lloyd, near this place, excited
sentiments of a different nature; an elegant
retirement, the grounds, and all the accompa-
niments, designed and laid out with simplicity
and taste.
Knowing we should pay a second visit to
Caerwys, and have more leisure to examine it
than at present, we passed through this an-
cient town without halting, and continued our
walk to Holywell. Fortunately we reached
Pen-y-Bawn, an elevation about a mile on this
side of it, in time to behold a scene of inex-
pressible glory. The sun bad finished his
course in the heavens, and threw the ricb illu-
mination of his farewell beams on a piturq
of prodigious extent, and equal variety. To
the west arose " the thousand hills" of Meri-
oneth and Carnarvonshire, amongst which the
summits of Arran, Cader-Idris, and Snowdon,
all characteristic, were easily distinguished from
the others; Holy well lay immediately under
us to the easts beyond it the rivers Dee and
Mersey, backed by the coast of Lancashire.
To the south-east we had a part of Cheshire,
and an indistinct view of its august city; and
to the north, the unbounded ocean.
We descended slowly into Holywell by a
steep rocky road, and quickly saw marks of
the considerable manufactures carried on there,
in the employment of the women and children,
who were sitting at the doors of the cottages,
picking and preparing cotton for the mills in
the neighbourhood of the town. The White-
Horse inn opened its hospitable doors, and
received us somewhat tired, after a walk of
.twenty-one miles in one of the hottest days
we had ever experienced.
[ 200 ]
Having performed the ablutions, which, with
the rigid observance of Mussulmen, we never
fail to use after the exercise of the day, (and
which, by the way, are certain means of
lessening fatigue, as well as contributing to
comfort) I waited on Mr. Th-r--by, with the
letter of introduftion that Dr. H th had
obligingly committed to my care. His attentions
to us, in consequence of this letter, have been
not merely polite, but warm, friendly, and kind.
He proposed, that we should on the ensuing
morning survey the town, examine its anti-
quities and manufactories, and close our tour
of observation with a visit to the great lead-
mine called the Holy-well level.
Having, therefore, taken an early breakfast
to-day with Mr. Th-r-by, we set out, accom-
panied by him, on our interesting expedition.
The town of Holywell is large but irregular,
containing a population of five thousand four
hundred souls ; it has many good houses and
respectable families in it, and fortunately, not
being a borough, it is not cursed with those
constant jars and little dirty feuds which the
opposition of interests so perpetually produces
in enfranchised towns. The social principle
flourishes here in great vigour, and good neigh-
[ 201 ]
lottrhood is the motto of the place. Exclusive
of this recommendation, Holywell has other
claims to attention; its wonder-working Well
rendered it a place of notoriety in former times,
and its numerous manufa6tories and valuable
mines stamp it with much more real import-
ance in the present day. Of local customs
there is nothing particular, (since the resort of
Roman-Catholics to the well has ceased) ex-
cept an unusual mode of summoning the inha-
bitants to church. This edifice is so situated,
that when the wind blows from the south or
the south-west, the bell cannot be heard in
most parts of the town 5 the parishioners, .
therefore, allow an annual stipend to a poor
man, to notify the hour of prayer on Sundays
and Holidays, which he does in the following
singular manner : A leathern strap is suspended
round his neck, and a large and heavy bell
attached to it, which rests upon a cushion
buckled over his knee. Thus accoutred he
traverses the town, jingling his bell, to the sur-
prise of those who are unacquainted with the
custom. A ridiculous circumstance happened
in consequence of this praftice a short time
.since; .an honest Hibernian, who, in passing
through Holywell, sojourned there a day to see
[ 202 ]
its curiosities, was standing at the door .of the
inn when this ecclesiastical bellman paraded
the streets in the exercise of his office. The
traveller, astonished at the sight, enquired of a
fellow standing by, who had more shrewdness
than good-nature, the. cause of it, and received
for answer that it was to announce the arrival
of an oyster-boat /at the well.- The credulous
Milesian, who was very partial to this shell-
fish, instantly hurried thither, in order to make
a first purchase; but found to his confusion,
on enquiring for the vessel, that it was utterly
impossible, from the situation of the place, any
sort of boat should approach within a mile of
it a disappointment that was rendered still
more painful, by the gibes and jeerings of the
female attendants at the well. Foaming with
rage, he returned to the inn, resolved to repay
trie trick that, had been exercised upon him,
with his faithful shilalak; but here again he
reckoned without his host, for the wit, satisfied
with the success of the first part of the joke,
and not choosing to wait the conclusion of it,
had retired from the inn to tell the tale of
cheated simplicity.
The famous well of St. Winefrede (from
which the town receives its modem appellation)
[ 203 ]
lies at the bottom of a steep declivity at one
extremity of Holywell. The well itself, the
shrine that covers it, and the school-room over
it, were built by King Henry VII.'s mother,
the Countess of Richmond, and afford elegant
specimens of the rich Gothic, which marks the
architectural taste of that period. The arch
which springs from the well is particularly
light and beautiful, covered with the pleasing
ornaments of that luxuriant stile of building;
figures of animals, escutcheons, family arms,
form the bosses at the intersection of the
firm ribs that support the roof. The spring
boils up from the rock into a polygonal recep-
tacle, with such profusion and impetuosity as
to throw out (according to the accurate obser-
vations of Mr. Pennant) twenty-one tons of
water in the short space of one minute ! From
hence it discharges itself into an oblong stone
reservoir or bath, inclosed by a wall, intended
for the reception of those who choose to try the
effe&s of its miraculous waters j and who are
accommodated with dresses by women living
in an adjoining cottage.
The legend of the well, is as follows:
. Winifreds was a noble damsel of North- Wales,
who lived sometime in the seventh century,
[ 204 ]
her father's name Thewith, her mother's Wenlo,
and her uncle's St. Beuno. This last-mentioned
relative, perceiving a certain quickness and
docility about his* niece, determined to superin-
tend her education; and having obtained a
grant from her father of a small piece of land,
(the scite of the present well) he there built a
residence, and commenced the tuition of his
relative. A neighbouring prince, Cradocus,
had frequent opportunities of seeing the fair
Winefrede, and became desperately enamoured
of her, but haughty and impatient, determined
to obtain that by force, which, probably, a
certain series of attentions would have put him
quietly in possession of. The lady, however,
resisted, and fled up the hill, on the summit of
which her father's palace was built. Cradocus,
inflamed with rage at his disappointment, un-
sheathing his sword, pursued the flying Daphne,
and overtaking her before she had reached the
top of the hill, severed her head at one blow
from the body. Down rolled the head of the
virgin, and stopped at the spot where the well
is situated; when strange to tell, a copious
spring instantly gushed forth, ran violently
through the valley, and has ever since continued
to water it in the most abundant manner.
[ 205 }
But miracles did not cease here. The head
of Winefrede, more wonderful than that of
Orpheus, which sang a farewell elegy as it
rolled down the Hebrus, had not been des-
tined yet to close its eyes or hold its tongue ;
St. Beuno, her tutor, taking it up, carried it
immediately to the corpse, and joining them
nicely together, recalled the virgin once more
to light and life.
The supposed san&ity of the waters, and
their imaginary healing powers, attra&ed for
some centuries the credulous both of the Ro-
mish pale and the Protestant church, to the
shrir^f-of St. Winefrede on the zist of June, the
festival of the saint ; and many important cures
are said to have been performed on the devo-
tees. Much of its celebrity has, however,
long since vanished ;' and, either from a de-
crease of faith in patients, or from the waters
having lost their sanative powers, the saint is
now sinking fast into oblivion, and her well
into negleft. Happily, the spring has for some
years been made subservient to much wiser,
and more important, purposes than the super-
stitious uses to w r hich it was formerly dedi-
cated. In the short course of little more than
a mile fiom its first appearance out of the rock
[ 206 ]
to its blending with the Chester channel, this
torrent works one large corn-mill, four cotton
manufactories under the firm of the Holywell
Cotton-Twist Company, a copper and brass
work, one under the firm of the Mona-Mine
Company, the other under that of the Parys-
Mine Company ; hammer-mills, where copper,
brewing, and other vessels are manufactured;
a mill for drawing ofF-copper-wire; acalcinary
of calamine, and a building for making brass.
With all the noise, bustle, and appearance of
business produced by these numerous manu-
factories, the little valley in which they stand
may yet be called a fii&uresque scene, the only
instance of that sort of beauty we had ever
seen, blended with so much mechanism, and
so many specimens of human art. It is a deep
glen, with well-wooded banks on each side,
having the Chester channel in the distance.
The works are kept in such excellent order,
that one of the first emotions occurring to the
mind is that of wonder, at so much work car-
ried,on with so much cleanliness.
Under the conduct of Mr. Th-r-by, we be-
gan our tour of the manufactories with a visit
to the great cotton work. This is an extensive
and elegant building, erected about twenty
t 207 ] .
years ago, in which the raw cotton, being first
cleansed and picked, is spun into thread of a
texture superior to all other brought to the
market. For this excellence it is indebted to
the copious stream that works the mill, which,
not being affected by drought, floods, or frosts,
always applies to the great wheel that moves
the whole machine the same equal invariable
power. The cotton work, till within these few
years, employed one thousand people, but the
same paralyzing effects of war have been pro-
duced here as in the other manufactories
throughout the kingdom, by the reduction of
their number to five hundred women and chil-
dren. In this work the cotton, (as I observed
just now) after having been previously picked
by the poor of the town, is reduced to thread,
being thrice carded, thrice roven, and once
spun. The process is performed by the im-
proved cotton machine, a stupendous piece of
mechanism, the first view of which irresistibly
impresses the mind with the idea of magic;
here thirty or forty thousand wheels and spin-
dles are seen moving in the most rapid man-
ner, without any perceptible cause, spontane-
ously performing operations of the most curious
nature, and in the most systematic, manner.
[ 208 ]
Nothing that we had seen, indeed, before, gave
us so exalted a notion of human ingenuity as
the work before us; of the extraordinary me-
chanical powers of that mind which could
conceive, design, and bring to perfection, so
vast and so complicated a machine as the cot-
ton-mills of Sir Richard Arkwright.
We next proceeded to the brass works where
this compound metal is formed, and afterwards
manufactured. The calamine used in its com-
position is brought from the great mines which
cover the top of Pen-y-Bawn, being first roasted
in order to divest it of the sulphur, with which,
in the raw state, it is combined. It is' then
cleansed and separated from the lead also,
which always accompanies it, and undergoes
the process of calcination. A pounding-mill next
receives it, where a quantity of ground charcoal
is mixed, and pounded with it. This com-
pound is afterwards put into a crucible, con-
taining alternately a layer of this compound,
and another of small masses of copper j then
the copper becomes completely united with the
zinc, and the brass is produced. The plates
procured by this process are oblong masses
of metal, about fifteen inches long, (as they
appeared to the eye) eight broad, and two and
[ 209 ]
half thick. These being baked, or made red-
hot in order to render them malleable, are
placed between cylindrical rollers of immense
pressure. Entering on one side in their original
size and form, they are delivered on the other
reduced in thickness to about half an inch,
and increased proportionally in longitudinal
extension. Again they are heated, and again
pass through the cylindrical rollers ; the pro-
cess being repeated till the plates are reduced
to the thickness required by the manufacturer.
These works are chiefly employed at present
in making articles for the African Company,
such as broad shallow pans for the procuring
of salt from salt-water by evaporation; and
manillas, small baubles, somewhat resembling
a horse-shoe in shape, between two and three
inches in diameter, disposed of to the Africans,
and by them used as current coin, being strung
on a copper wire and worn round their waists.
Exclusive of these foreign articles, large pans
and smaller utensils are made for the English
market. The great vessels are formed out of
fiat sheets of brass of a circular form, (cut to
that shape by steel scissars worked by water)
and a proper thickness, by being subjected to
the action of heavy hammers worked by the
, [
same power, which beat upon them with such
astonishing velocity as to give from one to eight
hundred strokes in a minute. The utensil is held
the while bj a workman> who sits at the side
of the battering-hammer, and continues moving
it under the blows of the engine, till it has as-
sumed the form required. A small peg then
stops the motion of the water-wheel, the ham-
mer loses its power in a moment, the intonations
cease, and all is quiet and silent.
Quitting the brass works, we visited the
copper mills, where the pigs of copper brought
from Swansea and Stanley are again melted,
cast into plates, reduced to the proper thick-
ness, and cut to the requisite size by means
similar to those made use of in the manufactory
just described. It may only be observed, that
the plates of copper are polished by the aHon
of the cylindrical rollers, which give them in
passing a most smooth and bright appearance.
This manufa&ory is chiefly occupied in pre-
paring copper sheets for sheathing ships of
war; and a large order is now getting ready
for America. Most of the maritime powers
have adopted this admirable method of defend-
ing their marine from the depredations of the
worm 5 but all differ with respect to the size
[ 211 ] .
and weight o the plates they use ; Spain ta-
king the largest, America the second size, and
England the smallest. The copper nails, also,
which fasten the sheets to the bottom of the
vessel, and the great bolts of the same metal
used in building men of war, are manufactured
at the works of Holywell.
A Visit to the wire mills, where slips of cop-
per are drawn into strings of any given thick-
ness, by the aclion of an engine. that pulls them
through holes bored in iron-plates, concluded
a survey of the most interesting, amusing, and
instructive nature. The number of manufac-
turers employed in these works are about 600.
Mr. Th-r by having, with the most friendly
attention, made every necessary arrangement
for our seeing the interior of the great Holy-
well lead-mine, we proceeded to the spot, and
clothed ourselves in miners' dresses for the
purpose. The entrance lies at the bottom of a
hill near the town, and is called a water-level;
a subterraneous passage, or canal, penetrating
the mountain to the distance of nearly seventeen
hundred yards, cut through the solid rock, six
feet high and four feet wide. The water,
which is a running stream, and discharges it-
self at the mouth of the level, forms a channel
of nearly three feet deep, navigated by boats,
long, narrow, and flat, sharp at each end, and
forced up and down the level by the workmen
pushing with their hands against the sides of
the rock.
This great work was undertaken about
twenty-four years ago, by a company of gen-
tlemen, who have continued it with uncon-
querable patience and unremitting perseve-
rance ever since, in 'spite of the ill success
which attended their labours for many years.
After having penetrated the rock for six
hundred yards, the workmen met with a vein
of ore that produced about -eighty tons, but
except this discovery, they found nothing to
repay the great expences of driving the level
(amounting to six thousand pounds) till about
four years since, when they struck upon an-
other vein of great thickness, which they have
not yet exhausted. Six men are constantly
employed in continuing this subterraneous
passage, who cut it by contradt, having from
four to eight pounds per yard, according to the
nature of the rock through which they work.
Gunpowder is the great engine employed for
the purpose, with which they blast the stubborn
heart of the mountain.
Seating ourselves in such a boat as I have
described, and carrying a lighted candle in the
hand of each, we entered the level, and pro-
ceeded leisurely up its stream, to examine
more carefully the nature of the rock. For
one hundred yards it exhibits lime-stone, inter-
mixed with much calcareous spar; the next
five hundred yards consist of Chertz or Petro-
silex, quantities of which are sent into Stafford-
shire for the use of the potteries. At this
point the rock again changes, and becomes a
hard lime-stone. Continuing our voyage for
one thousand one hundred yards from the
mouth of the level, we reached a large natural
cavern, on the left hand, humorously called by
our conduftor " the hotel," being the scene of
his hospitality when he conducts any of his
friends through these subterraneous regions.
From one side of this vast hollow a passage or
cut in the rock branches off into the mountain,
nearly at right angles with the level. The
entrance is an elegant Gothic arch, (thrown
accidentally into this form) hewn through a
vast bed of quartz, which refle&ing and re-
fra&ing the rays of our tapers, and being
beautifully variegated with the tinges of sul-
phur and other minerals, displayed a specimen
[ 214 ]
of natural architecture that exceeded all the
efforts of art. While this pleasing object oc-
cupied our attention, we were surprised at the
distant appearance of two extraordinary figures,,
marching slowly down the arch-way towards
us; the one which preceded, a gigantic form,
clad in a miner's dress, and crowned with a
fur cap, bearing in his hand alighted torch ;
the other of^ less stature, but accoutred in a
similar manner. As they approached, fancy
naturally enough converted them into the ge-
nius of the mountain, and his attendant spirit,
striding forwards to punish our temerity for
intruding into his gloomy territories.
We soon discovered, however, they were
nothing aerial, but, like ourselves, humble
mortals i Mr. Edwards, the able and diligent
agent of the mine, and one of the workmen.
The whole party now put themselves under
the care and direction of this gentleman, and
proceeded to the extremity of the level, where
we were one hundred yards below the surface
of the- earth, and nearly one mile from the
mouth of the passage. When we reached this
point, the workmen were preparing to discharge
a blast-, a quantity of gunpowder plugged into
a hole bored in the rock, which being fired,
tears with irresistible violence large masses of
stone from the mountain, and enables them to
form a passage, that could not be worked
without the assistance of this powerful agent.
Retiring to a secure place, we heard this ex-
plosion, which, indeed, was very awful, and
might be compared to a sudden and momentary
burst of thunder; the confined space of the
passage, however, quickly deadened the sound,
and prevented reverberation.
In order to visit the vein, it was necessary
for us to ascend several shafts, or perpendicular
passages, cut through the mountain, which
pursue the ore in all its ramifications, as well as
admit air to the workmen. For the first twenty
yards we performed this ascent without diffi- ,
culty, being assisted by a rude kind of stair-
case. The second attempt, however, was
somewhat more arduous, as we had to encoun-
ter a shaft, properly so called. This is a vertical
pit, about four feet square, and of uncertain
depth, sometimes boarded, in other instances
having only pieces of wood, fixed to the sides
of the rock one above the other, and at the
distance of two feet apart, so that the position
of the person ascending, with his legs and
arms stretched out to the utmost, is much
[ 216 ]
the same as if he were extended on a
Greek cross.
But our trouble was sufficiently recom-
pensed. After mounting forty or fifty yards,
and scrambling through an horizontal passage,
we reached another stupendous cavern, lately
discovered, seventeen yards long and twenty
or thirty feet high. The rude sides of this
hollow, embossed with spar, and its lofty
fretted roof, seemed to realize the descriptions
we had met with in tales that amused our
early years, of the palaces of Genii, or the
dwellings of Necromancers.
A short distance from hence we came to
the ore, a very rich vein, nearly six feet in
thickness, and dipping down, as the miners
express it, in an oblique direftion towards the
level. Here those laborious beings, who are
content to sacrifice health and safety for the
scanty gain of about twenty-pence per day, are
seen busied in their horrible employ, shut out
from the blessed light of day, and tearing down
from the heart of the mountain, amidst dust
and noise, and confusion, the fatal mineral, the
instrument of fate, and messenger of death to
thousands. Having remained for some time
in these " doleful shades," where the infre-
[ 217 ]
quent candle served only to produce " a dark-.
" ness visible," we retraced our steps, and with
some further labour reached the level. Here
we again embarked on board our boat, and ha-
ving partaken of a very agreeable repast, which
Mr. Th-r-by had provided in the " hotel," we
returned at length to light and a warm atmo-
sphere, highly satisfied with our expedition.
But though we had spent four hours in the
bowels of the .mountain, and threaded a num-
ber of its passages, yet so numerous are the cuts
which have been made, and the shafts sunk in
search of the mineral, by the persevering spirit
of the firm to which the work belongs, that
Mr. Edwards assured us, we had not visited a
tenth part of the excavations in our expedition.
The products of the Holywell level mine are
as follow:
Limestone, burned for manure and building.
Cbertz, or Petrosihx, used in the potteries.
Lead ore, of which there are two sorts ; galena, or potter's
lead ore, and ihesieel ore, which contains a proportion
of silver.
Calamine, an ore of zinc, which, combined with copper,
%{in the proportion of one part to three of copper) forms
the compound metal called brass.
Blende, or black jack, another ore of zinc, containing that
metal in combination with iron and sulphur, and used
for the same purpose as the last article.
f 2JS.J
Of these substances- the lead ore is the most
valuable, and found in the largest quantities,
It is extra&ed from the mountain, and delivered
at the mouth of the level by the workmen at
a certain sum per ton. War, which never fails
to produce individual distress, as well as pub-
lic misery, has so reduced the price of lead,
that the miners can scarcely contrive to exist.
During peace the lead ore fetches from thirteen
to fifteen pounds per ton, but at present not
more than seven or eight ; the master is conse-
quently under the necessity of reducing (in
proportion) the premium upon every ton, which
circumscribes the profits of the miner so as
to render them very inadequate to his peril and
labour, and barely sufficient for his mainte-
nance. About sixty-five men are engaged as
miners in this great work. The nature of their
employment is obviously unwholesome, and
very seldom allows them to reach their grand
climacteric. Their appearance, indeed, denotes
an imperfecl state of health, it being commonly
pale, wan, and weakly; not that they are sub-
ject to any particular complaint, (except one)
but being perpetually in the wet, and expe-
riencing quick and constant transitions ffpm
heat to cold, they gradually undermine their
'[ 219 ]
constitutions, and fall early victims to the dis-
eases generally produced by this inattention.
The disorder which forms the exception just
mentioned, is called by the patients ballan, and
seems peculiar to the lead-mines. It is a con-
stipation of the bowels {produced by their im-
bibing into the stomach particles of lead) of
uncertain duration, but attended with acute and
intolerable pain. The poor .wretch, groaning
under this affli&ion, has frequently been known
to continue fourteen days without an evacua-
tion, and when, at length, released, to have dis-
charged with his urine and fasces small masses
of the pernicious mineral. Perhaps, however,
the unhealthy appearance of the miners may in
some degree be occasioned by the free use of
spirituous liquors, to which they are fatally
attached. Smoaking, also, is a most favourite
pra&ice with them - 3 and carried to the extreme
. in which they indulge it, may assist in weak-
ening and debilitating them. The passion,
indeed, extends in all its force to the children of
these people; and boys of ten or twelve years
old are perpetually seen with short pipes, about
two inches long, stuck in their mouths, and
breathing, like Chimaeras, smoak and flame from
morning to night. The number of workmen,
[ 290 ]
including colliers, employed in the different
mines around Holywell, are about 700.
Perilous as the business of mining appears
to be," one naturally expe&s to hear of frequent
accidents among the workmen. Habit, how-
ever, renders them so expert, that serious casu-
alties seldom occur. Some " hair-breadth
escapes," indeed, are on record, which, had
they not been told us by those whose veracity
is unquestionable, we should not have very
hastily given credit to. Of these the following
are most remarkable :
A few years since a workman fell down
the shafts of a mine in the neighbourhood of
Holywell, nearly one hundred and twenty feet
deep, and was so little incommoded by the
sudden descent, as to exclaim to his compa-
nions above, who were anticipating his imme-
diate death, " Ecod, I've broke my clogs"*
A coachman of Mr. Pennant, also, fell down
a coal-pit, with similar good fortune.
These, however, were nothing, when com-
pared to the adventure of a man, now living
at Whiteford, near Holywell, who, when a lad,
had tumbled into one of these mines, of three
hundred feet, and escaped alive.
* Wooden shoes which the common people sometimes wear.
[ 221 ]
Not more than two or three years since, the
roof of a neighbouring mine gave way so sud-
denly, that a poor workman, not having time to
escape, was instantly overwhelmed with the
foundering earth. Standing fortunately at this
time under a mass of rock, he escaped being
immediately crushed to death; but as there
were many thousand tons of earth above him,
the melancholy prospet of certain destruc-
tion, by means the most lingering and terrible,
still presented itself to him. When the acci-
dent happened, he had half a pound of candles
in his hand; and upon this, and the trickling
water that distilled thro' the cracks of the rock,
he subsisted nine days, until his faithful compa-
nions, who, with an anxious solicitude that does
honour to humanity, worked incessantly (spell
and spell) for nine days and as many nights, at
length reached, and liberated him from the
horrible prison in which he was immured.
A singular instance of providential preser-
vation occurred yesterday, also, in a coal-mine
at Mostyn park, a few miles from the scene of
the last wonder. As twelve men were follow-
ing their employment in the dark recesses of
the mountain, the water suddenly burst in,
and in a few minutes must have overwhelmed
[ 222 ]
them all. The rope, however, by which the
bucket is drawn up, happening to be hanging
down at this critical moment, and the whole
party clinging to it, hallooed lustily to their
companions above to pull them up. Their
cries were heard, and the people immediately
wound up the rope, which brought them safely
to the top, though it had that very day been con-
demned as too old and unsafe to be longer used.
Having thoroughly cleansed myself from the
filth I had contrafted in our subterraneous visit,
I walked to Downing, the seat of Mr. Pennant,
about three miles from Holywell, who had
gratified me by an invitation to his house, the
seat of virtue, kindness, and benevolence, as
well as literature, science, and taste. The
walk is agreeable, and diversified, particularly
towards the mansion, to which I approached
by a rural path, winding through a beautiful,
well-wooded dingle.
Downing, though not the original seat of
this respectable family, is a house of some anti-
quity, as the date 1627 in the front of it evinces.
Its plan is judicious and commodious^ and the
situation, like that of all the rural residences of
our ancestors, is low, sequestered, and Shel-
tered. The little valley, in the bottom of
[ 223 ]
which it stands, is formed by two. finely-swelling
hills, that rise to the east and west, covered
with the dark umbrage of venerable woods;*
but which, sinking into a sweeping depression
towards the north, admit a fine view of the
Chester channel. Much taste is displayed in
the laying out of the small but beautiful garden
ground; where a judicious management, and
an agreeable variety, give the appearance of
considerably greater extent to this little para-
dise than it really lays claim to,
To see the " literary veteran," by whom the
public has been so much amused, and so
much instructed, in the peaceful shades of his
own academical bowers, spending the close of
an honourable and useful life in ative benefi-
cence, crowned with the blessings of the poor,
and the love and esteem of an extensive neigh-
bourhood, would have conveyed to my mind
an emotion of unspeakable pleasure, had it not
been checked by the appearance of ill health
and gradual decay, which is but too percepti-
ble in the countenance of this valuable man.
Not that the conviction of his declining state
disturbs the serenity of Mr. Pennant. Virtue,
* The oak reaches great perfection in these grounds. On
measuring one, I found it to be twenty-one feet in circumference.
[ 224 ]
my friend, feels no alarm at the prospect of
changing time for eternity. Aware that its
proper reward lies beyond the grave, it does
not lose its tranquillity when about to descend
into " the narrow dwelling ;" but like the glo-
rious setting sun, shines with a steadier light,
and a calmer radiance, in proportion as it ap-
proaches the horizon of mortality. Such, my
dear sir, is Mr. Pennant, who, full of dignity
and honour, as well as of years, realizes the
beautiful description of the poet:
" Calmly he moves to meet his latter end,
" Angels around befriending Virtue's friend;
" Sinks to the grave with gradual decay,
<' While Resignation gently slopes the way;
" And all his prospefts brightening at the last,
" His Heaven commences ere the world be past."*
Having spent a truly Attic afternoon, I
quitted Downing with reluctance, and walked
quietly to Holywell, where my companions
and myself have passed a most agreeable even-
ing with Mr. Th-r-by, our friendly ciceroni to
the manufactures and the mines.
Your's, &c. R. W.
* The fears which the author entertained when the above was
written, have been since unfortunately realized. This excellent
man paid the debt of nature about six months past. Oft. 1799-
Hoiywe
Chester
LETTER IX,
TO THE SAME.
Chester, Aug. 25tb,
TT was happily in my power to confer the
A same satisfa&ion on my companions, which
I had experienced on Thursday last myself,
by introducing them to Mr. Pennant at break-
fast the ensuing day. His noble library, and
collection of miscellaneous curiosities, pleased
us. extremely ; but we were still more gratified
with turning over the many MS. volumes, which
[ 226 ]
an a&ive literary life has enabled him to pre-
pare for the future entertainment of the pub-
lic. Quitting this happy retreat, we took
the road to Flint, intending to pass to Liver-
pool the same day. In our way, about a mile
to the north-east of Holywell, our attention
was attracted by the ruins of Basingwerk (or
Greenfield, as it is now called) Abbey, founded
by Ralph earl of Chester, A. D. 1131. The
architecture is Anglo-Norman, and the re-
mains, which are considerable, would be, from
the circumstances of the fine wood and water*
around, and the river at a short distance from
them, highly picturesque, were it not for the
immediate neighbourhood of the manufacto-
ries, which extend quite to the walls of the
monastery.
From hence to Flint the road is perfectly un-
interesting j and so little occurred in this town
worth notice, that we heard with regret it
would be necessary for us to remain there that
day and night, as the boats were prevented
from passing the Dee by a heavy gale of wind,
which blew with all its rage. Though this
place gives a name to the county, it has no
vestige of that importance which county-towns
usually possess, save a neat newly-built gaol ;
[227 . ]
the sessions and assizes having been removed
from it for many years. Considerable remains
of its ancient castle, standing on a long flat to
the north-east of the town, are still tu be seen ;
a square building, defended at each corner
by a round tower; the south-east, a larger one
than the others, differing from them in con-
struction, and exhibiting an anomaly in mili-
tary architecture. On the ground-floor within
the outer wall, is a gallery vaulted over head,
with four arched gateways opposite to each
other, and opening into an interior apartment
about twenty-three feet in diameter. What
the design of this building might be I cannot
guess, unless it were a place of confinement;
which its superior strength renders not im-
probable.
The most remarkable incident in the history
of Flint castle is, its being the scene of Richard
the Second's deposition. By the perjury of
Bolingbroke, and the treachery of Northum-
berland, he had been seduced from Conway
castle, where he had taken shelter on his re-
turn from Ireland, and prevailed upon to give
audience to the Duke of Lancaster. On his
way to the place of meeting, however, a body
of Northumberland's forces rushed upon him
[ 228 ]
and his retinue, and conveyed them forcibly to
the castle of Flint. Hither the haughty usurper
came the next morning, at the head of his
army, and after a short feigned complaisance,
committed the unfortunate prince to the care
of his implacable enemies, the sons of the
Duke of Gloucester and the Earl of Arundel,
who conveyed him with every mark of igno-
miny to Chester.
The wind having abated in some measure
yesterday morning, we embarked on board a
packet, and crossed the river Dee to Park-
gate, a passage of more than four miles. This
must be made at high water; for when the tide
is at ebb, its recess is so great, as to leave the
greater part of this broad expanse without a
drop of water in it. At these times the
channel of the river is so shallow, (although at
high water vessels of some hundred tons bur-
then are navigated up it) that passengers may
cross from Flint to Park-gate on foot, taking
the precaution of providing themselves with a
guide. Park-gate discovered no charms to
detain us, though enlivened in some degree by
being a bathing-place, and furnishing packets
to Dublin every week; we proceeded therefore
across the neck of land' that separates the Dee
t 229 ]
from the Mersey, about seven miles, in com-
pany with some pretty Welch women, who
had been our fellow-passengers, and after an-
other hour's sail, arrived at Liverpool.
Our chief inducement in making this diver-
sion from Wales, was to give a meeting to my
fellow-traveller of last year, who had engaged
to be at Liverpool as on this 'day, and to join
our party for the remainder of the tour. Here
we had the pleasure of rinding him, waiting
anxiously our arrival at the Talbot inn, where
he had been ever since the morning.
Having rendered our appearance as respecl-
able as we could, and taken some refreshment,
we strolled through the town of Liverpool, im-
pressed with the same astonishment as ^Eneas
and his friend felt on a survey of rising Carthage.
" Miratur molem ./Eneas, magalia quondam;
" Miratur portas, strepitumque, et strata viarum."
It is indeed difficult to form an adequate
idea, much more to give a just description, of
this wonderful emporium of commerce. On
the first view, the docks and shipping, the
streets and public buildings, the crouds and
bustle, unite in producing one grand impression
of extensive trade, boundless wealth, and vast
[ 230 ]
population; an impression which is confirmed
by considering it afterwards in the detail. The
happy situation of Liverpool ; the safety of its
harbour; the convenience of its wet docks; the
numerous canals in its neighbourhood, inter-
seting the country in all directions; its conti-
guity to the greatest manufactories in the world,
carried on in Yorkshire, Lancashire, Cheshire,
Staffordshire, and Derbyshire; and, above all,
the spirit of its merchants ; have combined to
render Liverpool "the second commercial port
in the kingdom.* Bristol has, for some time,
given place to it ; and, attra6ted by the supe-
rior advantages of the Lancashire port, the
accustomed trade of the former town is daily
crouding to the docks of the latter. To at-
tempt a full and accurate account of the com-
merce of Liverpool through all its ramifications,
would lead me into too wide a field of investi-
* In 1565, Liverpool had no more than twelve vessels, in all
one hundred and seventy-five tons, and manned by seventy-five
seamen. In 1793, the number of vessels had increased to six
hundred and six, and the tonnage to ninety-six thousand six
hundred and ninety-four; and it appears from the Custom-house
books, that on the J4th of June of the present year 4528 vessels
had arrived in the port of Liverpool within the last twelve
months, of which 680 had never been there before; and yet
Liverpool does not possess more than a'twelfth' part of the trade
of Great-Britain.
[ 231 ]
gation and discussion; a few particulars will
convey an idea of its extent and importance.
Two hundred thousand tons of salt from Che-
shire are annually shipped at the port of Liver-
pool ; one hundred thousand tons of coals ; four
thousand tons of lead ; an incalculable quantity
of Staffordshire ware from Burslem and New-
castle, of iron manufactures from Birmingham
and Wolverhampton, of woollens and cottons
from Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire.
Exclusive of these sources of wealth, Liver-
pool has attra6ted a very large proportion of
the West-India trade. Last week forty-five sail
of these ships* reached this port in safety, and
brought such prodigious quantities of cotton,
sugar, and rum,J that the duties upon them
already received have amounted to 140,000!.
A great part of the Irish and American trades,
also, contribute to swell the importance of
* Of this number fourteen belonged to one merchant, Mr.
Francis!
J The first of these articles is chiefly sold to our own manu-
facturers ; with the others we supply the markets of the Conti-
nent, France not excepted, who, in spite of all her decrees to
the contrary, is obliged to purchase her sugars, and a great part
of her coffee, from us. Hamburgh is the channel through which
they pass into the Republic. Hence it happens that the pre-
sent price of sugar is exorbitantly high, a considerable dra*vj'
back being allowed on its exportation.
[ 232 ]
Liverpool. I am sorry to add, however, that
its commercial charafter is deformed by that
monstrous and unnatural feature, the Slave-
Trade-^- the opprobrium of a country that boasts
itself to be free, and affecls to encourage the
sacred flame of liberty wherever its sails are
unfurled ; a trade, contrary to humanity, to rea-
son, and to sound policy; inconsistent with all
proper ideas of the Deity, and totally repugnant
to the spirit and principles of our holy religion.
The public buildings of Liverpool* are upon
a scale of magnificence proportionate to the
riches of its inhabitants. Castle-street, the
principal one of the place, equals, perhaps ex-
* Liverpool contains about 70,000 inhabitants. . The num-
ber of shipwrights there are estimated at 3000; the house
for the reception of the poor was built at the expence of
goool. In the town are thirteen established Churches, besides
one of the Kirk; three Independent, four Methodist, two Ana-
baptist, and three Roman-Catholic Chapels; and one Jewish
Synagogue .The Dock dues, which in 1724 were only eight
hundred and ten pounds, in 1796 amounted to more than thir-
teen thousand pounds. In 1670, the christenings were 67, bu-
rials 48, and marriages5. In 1795, the christenings were 2527,
burials 2009, and marriages 753. Among other public charities,
it has an Asylum for Lunatics, and another for the Blind.
A number of vessels trade from hence to the Isle of Mann ;
the names, &c. of which may be found in " Mr. Feltham's
" Tour" to that Island, published by Dilly, London, 1798.
C 233 ]
ceeds, every other of similar dimensions in the
kingdom. It is terminated at one end by a
stone building, that adds much to its grandeur,
the new Exchange, now almost finished, on
which, when compleared, will have been ex-
pended forty thousand pounds.
There are several conveyances from this
place to Chester, but part of the expedition
must be performed by water, in order to avoid
a very circuitous road by land. In one of these
C. C 11 and J n engaged places, and
left Liverpool at nine o'clock; while C 11
and myself remained behind till noon, and then
crossing the Mersey, proceeded on foot over
land from the Rock-house to Chester, a walk
of fifteen miles. As the country during this
track preserves nearly an uniform flatness, we
had no pleasing prospers to enliven our pere-
grination, or make amends for the inconveni-
ence of an overpowering afternoon sun. We
were glad, therefore, to shelter and refresh our-
selves with a dish of tea at the White-Lion inn
at six o'clock.
Our evening has been employed in survey-
ing, perhaps, the most extraordinary city in
% ihe world. Chester, venerable for its anti-
quity, the ancient colonial Roman city Deva t
[ 234 ]
still retains its original form and dimensions.
The figure, an oblong square, determines it to
have been one of those fortifications styled
tertiata castra, a form preferred by the Romans
to any other.* This was divided by four prin-
cipal streets, intersecting each other at right
angles into as many squares, each terminated
by a fiorta, or gate,, facing the four cardinal
points 5 whilst these principal ways were again
subdivided by lesser streets following the rec-
tilinear diredtions of the larger ones. The
whole was surrounded by a lofty wall.
The structure of the four principal streets,
as Mr. Pennant observes, is without a parallel.
They run direct from east to west, and north
to south ; and were excavated out of the earth,
and sunk many feet below the surface. The
carriages are driven far below the level of the
kitchens, on a line with ranges of shops -, over
which, on each side of the streets, passengers
walk from end to end, secure from wet or heat,
in galleries (or roivs as they are called) pur-
loined from the first floor of each house, open
in front and balustrated. The back courts of
all these houses are level with the rows, but to
* Vegetius, &c. apud Gray. torn. x. p. 1086.
[ 235 ]
go into any of these four streets, it is necessary
to descend a flight of several steps.*
The walls, standing far above the surround-
ing country, afford many delightful and ex-
tensive prospects, which we enjoyed from the
commodious walk that runs round their sum-
mit. To the west they make one of the boun-
daries of the race course, which is a large flat
trat of meadow land, in figure like a Roman
D ; the arc formed by the river, whose opposite
bank rises precipitously from the stream, and
the cord by the western wall of the city. We
were accidentally informed that this spot was
dedicated to equestrian amusements by the
Roman inhabitants of Chester, who. used it as
an hippodrome: but what belief the assertion
may claim I know not.
Mr. Pennant, has written so much and so
ably relative to Chester, as to leave little to be
gleaned by any other person on the subject.
Let me, therefore, recommend his volumes to
your perusal, for the particulars of its history
and antiquities. A few scattered remarks on
its present state, population, and trade, are all
I can venture to offer.
* Pennant's Welsh Tour, vol. i. p. 108.
[ 236 ]
The population of Chester is about sixteen
thousand,* and the number of houses four
thousand. A spirit of improvement, with re-
spet to its gates and buildings, arose about
thirty years ago, and continued till the year
1792, (during which period about two hundred
houses were ere&ed) when it suddenly stopped,
and has not since been revived. One excep-
tion, however, to this stagnation of architectu-
ral improvements must not be forgotten, the
new county gaol, a stupendous stone edifice,
constructed on an admirable plan, and esti-
mated to cost the county eighty thousand
pounds. Enormous as the sum is, however,
Cheshire is equal to the discharge of it, with-
out entailing any burthen on its inhabitants;
since the fund from which these expences are
defrayed, is nearly inexhaustible. It arises
from the following circumstance : Some few
years since a number of respectable gentlemen,
aware of the vast advantages which would re-
sult from the river Weaver being rendered na-
vigable from Nantwich to its junction with the
Mersey, obtained an at of parliament to en-
able them to execute a plan of this nature.
* This has been stationary for some time; the increase has
not been above one thousand in the last forty years.
[ 237 ]
They advanced the requisite sum, and effefted
the work; the beneficial consequences of it
quickly appeared. Running through Nant-
wich, Winsford, Northwich, and Frodsham,
the river immediately monopolized the carriage
of the immense quantities of salt produced at
these places, as well as of other articles; and
the receipts upon the tonnage soon became
very great. The act of parliament allowed
an interest of six per cent, upon all the
money advanced, directing at the same time,
that the principal should be gradually dis-
charged; and after the liquidation of both,
that the future profit should be appropriated
to carry on the public works of the county,
in ease of the county rate. In a few years,
the money advanced to defray the expence of
forming the navigation was entirely paid, and
the profits, in pursuance of the acl, were formed
into a fund for the use of the county. Out of
this is defrayed the cost of Chester gaol, which
will not consume much more than seven years
income of the river, since it produced last
year the sum of twelve thousand pounds.*
* The toll is only one shilling per ton, so that 240,000
tons were navigated upon it last year ; of this quantity, 200,000
tons are supposed to have been of salt.
[ 238 ]
The trade of Chester is but inconsiderable,
since Liverpool (which is in its immediate
neighbourhood) has, from it sad vantages before-
mentioned, absorbed all the trade of the west-
ern parts of these kingdoms, from Glasgow
to Bristol. Its foreign commerce consists only
in a few vessels employed in the Baltic, for the
importation of timber, flax, hemp, and iron;
an exportation of lead, lead ore, litharge, and
calamine, brought from the neighbouring parts
of Flintshire and Denbighshire, to the amount
of from three to five thousand tons 5 and an
export of coals to Ireland to the amount of
ten thousand tons and upwards. Its home trade
employs a few coasters to London, Bristol,
and the ports of North- Wales. Two consi-
derable fairs every year give spirit and anima-
tion to the city, one commencing 5th July, the
other loth Otober, for the sale of Irish linens,
Yorkshire woollens, cottons, leather, hops, &c.
and both continuing for the space of fourteen
days.
The state of the lower orders of society
in Chester is comfortable and healthy. The
morals of the younger part are in a state of
progressive improvement, owing to two admi-
rable institutions, suggested and established by
[ 239 ]
Dr. Haygarth, a gentleman well known to the
philosophical and physical world -, and as esti-
mable for his philanthropy, as eminent for his
professional skill. These institutions are, a
Blue-Coat Hospital, (supported by voluntary
contributions) for educating and training up in
habits of industry one hundred and forty-five
boys, the children of indigent parents; and
Sunday and Working Schools, supported by
similar means, and having similar important
objects in view for girls and boys whose
parents are unable to afford them education.
The beneficial consequences of these establish-
ments are sufficiently visible, in the decent con-
duel and improved manners of the young peo-
ple of the lower classes of society here ; and
afford an animating encouragement, to those
who have the interest of their fellow-creatures
at heart, to adopt similar establishments. It
is to be regretted, that (in order to render these
institutions complete) the proposal which Dr.
H th submitted to his fellow-citizens, of
employing a certain number of the blue-coat
boys in the needle-man ufaclure of Chester, has
not been adopted; since, by this plan, the
'children would not only be provided with the
means of a certain future livelihood, but of
[ 240 ]
earning in the interval something for the sup-
port of their parents ; and lessening, by the
profits of their own labours, the charges of the
institution on their account.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
I Caerwys
Llyn-y-P,
LETTER X.
TO THE SAME,
Caerwys, Aug. l^tl.
/""\UR departure from Chester this morning
^^ was attended with a circumstance truly
ridiculous. As we consider ourselves fair game,
the adventure amused us highly; and should it
relax your muscles, you may laugh to the ut-
most without hurting our feelings, or wounding
our self-consequence.
Whilst we were preparing for our walk at
the hour of six, we observed a party of young
[ 242 ]
Irish recruits (three or four hundred, who had
arrived in Chester on the Saturday, and were
going towards Bristol) drawn up before the
windows of the White-Lion in order of march.
The baggage-waggons were arranged in front,
loaded with their stores, and crouded with
'women following the fortunes of their sweet-
hearts and husbands.
Wishing not to be considered as attached to
this respeclable party, we determined to expe-
dite our departure, apprehending the soldiers
would not start till after the muster-roll had
been called. Buckling on our packs, there-
fore, we hastened out of the house, when, (as
our ill stars ordained it) just as we had gotten
into the street, the drums struck up, the word
of command was given to march, and the bat-
talion setting off swept us before them with
the force of a torrent. Our attempts to return
were without success, the street was narrow,
and all opposition to the proceeding body vain;
we were compelled, therefore, to mingle with
the throng, and marched on amid the shouts
and huzzas of the surrounding mob, the gibes
and jokes of our Hibernian companions, quiz-
zing our unmilitary appearance, and the bene-
dictions and good-wishes of the old women,
[ 243 ]
who pitied and lamented the fate of us /toor Irish
bloods going to the West-Indies to be food for
powder, or to die by the yellow fever. Having
paraded through a great part of Chester in
this numerous society, we at length came to a
spot where two streets intersect each other.
Here was an opportunity of escape ; giving a
signal, therefore, to my party, we darted down
the fortunate opening with the rapidity of a
shot; but not without a parting salute from
our Irish companions, who did not take leave
of us in the politest terms.
Being fairly out of the city, we proceeded
towards Hawarden, (or Harden, as it is pro-
nounced) a town about six miles and a half
from Chester, the foot-way to which runs for
the most part by the side of the Dee. The
country for the first four miles is flat and tame,
when the noble woods of Hawarden Castle,
the seat of Sir Stephen Glynn, bart. with the
small but beautiful ruins of the fortress tower-
ing above them, produce a fine diversity in the
scene. The mansion approaches close to the
road on the right, a handsome well-built square
house. To the left rise the remains of the
castle, the woods and walks of which are con-
neted with the pleasure-grounds round the
[ 244 ]
house by an elegant stone arch or bridge, cross-
ing the road at a height sufficient to allow any
kind of carriage to pass under it. Here we
were much pleased with the skill and taste
displayed in the management of the ruin. It
is a Norman remain, dismantled by a vote of
Parliament in 1 645 ; the dongeon of which is in
a beautiful stile of architecture. In order to
allow a peep at this from the road, a breach
has been made in the outward wall, through
which the passing traveller can admire its fine
circular tower mantled with a venerable mass
tif ivy. It is not so much exposed, however,
as to leave nothing to imagination, or to pre-
clude that interest which the mind takes in an
object, when fancy has some room left to in-
dulge her operations with regard to it.
Leaving the town of Hawarden, (where
there is a foundery for pieces of ordnance) the
country began to lose its tameness. On the
right we had the Chester channel, and immedi-
ately before us the mountains of Flintshire.
Three miles from Hawarden, we ascended
Buckley hill, in order to visit the large potteries
scattered over the face of it ; fortunately we
met with the master of the works on the spot,
who was so good as to conduct us round the
[ 245 j
manufa&ory, and explain to us the process pur-
sued in forming the various articles which it
produces; such as jugs, pans, jars, stone bot-
tles, &c. &c. The clay used for the purpose
is of three kinds, differing from each other in
their power of resisting the action of fire. The
most tenacious is called the fire-clay, which
forms the earthen receptacles and stands that
receive and support the articles whilst they are
baking. The second is a less-enduring species,
and called the stone-clay, of which the jars,
pickling-mugs, whiskey-cans, &c. are made.
The third, least capable of resisting heat, af-
fords materials for the smaller glazed potteries.
The mode of glazing the second sort of articles
is by strewing a quantity of salt (in the propor-
tion of two hundred pounds to eight hundred
pieces of pottery) over the articles when they
are heated to the highest degree, which, dis-
solving, distributes itself through the whole
mass, and becomes fixed in the form of a shi-
ning incrustation or varnish. A method alto-
gether different' glazes the smaller pieces; that
of dipping it into a liquor composed of pul-
verized lead and water, before they are ex-
posed to the fire. Having magnus mixed with
it, this liquor gives the ware a black glaze., and
without the addition it renders it of a light
yellow colour. The articles are not, however,
totally immersed in this preparation, as the lead
being melted, would (in that case) occasion
the ware to adhere to the earthen stand on
which it is placed. Towards the bottom, there-
fore, a space is left (as may be seen every day)
untouched by the glazing liquor; when thus
prepared, the articles are placed in brick-kilns,
formed like bee-hives, and heated to the re-
quisite degree. Here they remain forty hours,
when they are taken out, gradually cooled, and
packed up for the market.
The clay for all these purposes is found in
the neighbourhood, and prepared for manu-
fa&ure in the following manner: The work-
men first place it in a circular cistern, called
the bulging pool, when, whilst covered with
water, it is kneaded by a cylindrical machine,
which performs a double revolution round its
own axis, and an upright pole in the centre,
and pounds it completely. It is then tempered
by boys, who tread it under their naked feet
for some hours; and lastly, it is passed. through
fine silk sieves, to free it entirely from dirt,
stones, &c. The articles are formed in a lathe
by the hand, with the assistance of a fiat stone,
[ 247 ]
which has a rapid rotatory motion in an hori-
zontal direction.
We now descended the north-western side
of Buckley mountain, enjoying the rich pros-
peel spread beneath us the vale of Mold, a
fertile length of country, ornamented with
woods, villages, and elegant mansions. Mold
itself, with the mound on which its ancient
castle stood, and the great cotton-manufa6tory
a short distance from the town, were striking
obje&s in the beautiful and diversified pi&ure.
The church, the only building of curiosity in
the place, is of the fifteenth century, elegant
and uniform, consisting of one middle and two
side aisles, and a square tower at the west end,
Its interior is most superbly fitted up and orna-
mented, exhibiting much good carving both
ancient and modern 3 some painted glass, and
a fine marble monument of Robert Davies, esq;
the only defeft is its flat ceiling, which pro-
duces a most unpleasant effet to the eye, and
deadens greatly the sound of the voice.
Taking the road to Llyn-y-Pandii mines, we
had an opportunity of surveying (about one
mile from Mold) Maes Garmon, the spot on
which a celebrated battle was fought, in the
year of our Lord 420, between the Britons
[ 248 ]
headed by Germanus and Lupus, and an army
of Saxons and Pits, who had united their
forces, and were carrying desolation through
the province. The contest is said to have ta-
ken place during the Easter week, when the
soldiers of Germanus, at the command of their
leader, repeating the word Allelujah as they
rushed upon the foe, with a full persuasion of
its powerful efficacy, so terrified the Pagan
host, that they fled at the third repetition of it,
and were pursued by the conquering Britons
with terrible slaughter. A pyramidical stone
monument, commemorative of this wonderful
event, was creeled on the spot by the late
Nehemiah Griffith, esq; near whose seat,
Rhual, the place is situated, which bears the
following inscription::
Ad Annum
CCCC XX
Saxones Pi&ique Bellura adversus
Britones junftis viribus susciperunt
In hac regione hodieque MAES GARMON
Appellata; cum in praelium descenditur,
Apostolicis Britonum Ducibus Germane
et Lupo, Christus militabat in Castris;
ALLELUIA tertio repetitum exclamabant
Hostile Agmen terrore prosternitur:
Triumphant
. Hostibus fusis sine sanguine
[ 249 ]
Palma fide, non viribus obtenta
M. P.
In vidoriae Alleluiaticae raemoriam
N. G.
M DCC XXXVI.
Another hour brought us to the great ob-
je6l of our day's ramble, Llyn-y-Pandu mine,
the most considerable lead-mining speculation
in England. The scenery of this place is won-
derfully wild and romantic; a deep valley,
rude and rocky, shut in by abrupt banks,
clothed with the darkest shade of wood.
Straggling through the bottom of this dale, is
seen the little river Allen, which, having pur-
sued a subterraneous course for nearly three
miles, makes its second appearance close to
the lower engine belonging to these stupen-
dous works.
Llyn-y-Pandu mine is the property of John
Wilkinson, esq^ the great iron-master, who
has, with infinite spirit and perseverance, en-
countered obstacles in bringing it to its pre-
sent state, that would have exhausted the
patience and resolution, as well as the cotlers,
of most other men. With all his exertions,
however, he has not been able to render it
complete} the mine even now contains so
[ 250 ]
much water, that he has been under the neces-
sity of ere&ing four vast engines (of Messrs.
Boulton and Watt's construftion) upon the
premises to drain it. The steam cylinder of
the lower one is forty-eight inches diameter,
and works an eight-feet stroke* in a pump
twenty-one inches diameter, to a depth of
forty-four yards; the steam cylinder of the
mountain engine is fifty-two inches diameter,
and works an eight-feet stroke in a pump
twenty-one inches diameter,, to a depth of sixty
yards; the steam cylinder of Perrins's engine
is twenty-seven inches diameter, (double) and
works a six-feet stroke in a pump twelve
inches diameter, to a depth of seventy yards ;-
and the .steam cylinder of Andrew's engine is
thirty-eight inches diameter, and works an
eight-feet stroke in a pump twelve inches dia-
meter, to a depth of sixty yards. The moun-
tain engine has been lately ere&ed, in conse-
quence of a lease of ground,J of upwards of a
third of a mile Jn length upon the range of the
Llyn-y-Pandii vein, called Cefn-Kilken, granted
* The perpendicular height of the motion of the piston.
J By this the miner understands a right to all that lies under
it; were the word " lands" to be inserted, he would conceive ho
Other right hit to the surface.
[ 251 ]
by Earl Grosvenor to Mr. Wilkinson. Many
thousand tons of lead ore are now in stock upon
these premises waiting for a market, the war
having almost suspended the demand for lead,
and lessened the price to nearly one half of
what it formerly sold for. The engines also
are quiet, and the works at a stand. When
the bottom level, intended to communicate all
the engines, is finished, great expectations are
entertained with respect to the produce of this
mine; as it contains one head* of solid ore
upwards of six feet wide, another of four feet,
and about two feet upon the average for ninety
yards in length upon the bottoms.-]- The ore
is of two kinds, the one blue, which yields
sixteen cwt. of lead per ton, and the other
white, which yields thirteen cwt. They are
both gotten in the same vein ; the white lying
in general on the south, and the blue on the
north side. When peace shall again have
opened a market for lead, these ores are in-
tended to be smelted at works now creeling by
Mr. Wilkinson on Buckley Mountain, near to
the road which leads from Mold to Chester.
* Ore at the extremity of a drift or level.
t All the lower levels and drifts.
One of the vast engines I have described has
a particularly striking effect, from the singu-
larity of its situation; standing detached from
every other trace of human art, in the bottom
of the valley, immediately at the foot of a huge
perpendicular lime-stone rock, which rears its
broad white face above the apparatus to a con-
siderable height. In the neighbourhood of
this work we picked up some good fossil
specimens, a perfect bivalve of the cockle kind,
and an elegant species of the astriote or star-
stone, beautifully striated and intagliated from
the polygonal edges above to a centre in the
bottom.
A little lower down the river, and adjoining
to Llyn-y-Pandu, is a lead-mine called Pen-y-
Fron, belonging to Mr. Ingleby. This is
drained by a steam-engine upon the old con-
struction, and a water-wheel. The steam cy-
linder of the engine is sixty inches and half
diameter, and works one sixteen-inch and two
fourteen-inch pumps, to a depth of forty-four
yards ; the water-wheel works two twelve-
inch pumps to the same depth. These five
pumps are all in the same shaft. Independent
of these are two other wheels, which raise the
water from the lower workings to the main
[ 253 ]
level, communicating with the engine. With
all this power Mr. Ingleby is scarcely ever able
to get to the bottoms of his work, except the
weather be particularly dry. Were he able to
effect this completely his profits would be im-
mense, since the mine is incalculably rich,
there being one vein of solid ore two yards
and a half in width, besides several smaller
seams. In the few instances where Mr. Ingleby
has gotten to the bottoms, no less than seventy
tons of ore have been raised per week. The
blue ore of this mine is not of so good a quality
as the same species at Llyn-y-Pandu, owing
to its containing a small portion of black-jack;
of white ore Pen-y-Fron mine has but a small
quantity.
The great convenience of these works is
their compaine&s. The ore being dug, and
the article manufactured, nearly on the same
spot. Smelting-houses are in the immediate
neighbourhood of the river, for fusing the ore,
and casting it into pigs; and about half a mile
below these premises is a mill, worked by a
Water-wheel for rolling the lead into sheets.
After a complete survey of these valuable
works, we directed our steps to Caerwys,
where we intended to remain for the night.
[ 254 ]
and arrived here after a walk of great variety
and amusement, of which the last six miles
exhibited a constant succession of "the most
beautiful and romantic scenes.
Having secured beds we rambled through
the village, in order to discover some traces of
its former magnificence; but our search was
in vain. The glory of Caerwys is faded away,
and nought remains to evidence its former con-
sequence except the name, which it continues
to bear. Stat nominis umbra. This is a com-
pound of the two words caer, a city, and gwys,
a summons, notifying its having been formerly
a place of judicature. The great session or
assize for the county of Flint, was for many
ages held in the town of Caerwys ; and it still
continues to be one of the contributory bo-
roughs for the return of a representative to the
national senate.
But the chief boast of this town was, its
being the Olympia of North- Wales, the theatre
where the British bards poured forth their ex-
temporaneous effusions, or awakened their
harps to melody ;
. " And gave to rapture all their trembling strings,"
in the trials of skill instituted by law, and held
at this place, with much form and ceremony,
[ 255 ]
at a particular period in every year. This meet-
ing was called the Eisteddfod, where judges
presided, appointed by special commission from
the princes of Wales previous to its conquest,
and by the kings of England after that event.
These arbiters were bound to pronounce justly
and impartially on the talents of the respe&ive
candidates, and to confer degrees according to
their comparative excellence. The bards, like
our English minstrels, were formed into a col-
lege, the members of which had particular
privileges, to be enjoyed by none but such as
were admitted to their degrees, and licensed
by the judges.
The last commission granted by royal autho-
rity for holding this court of Apollo, seems to
have been in the pth of Elizabeth, when Sir
Richard Bulkley, knt. and certain other per-
sons, were empowered to make proclamation
in the towns of North- Wales, that all persons
intending to follow the profession of bard, &c.
should appear before them at Caerwys on a
certain day, in order to give proofs of their
talents in the science of music, and to receive
licences to pra&ise the same. The meeting
was numerous, and fifty-five persons were ad-
mitted to their degrees.
[ 256 ]
From this period, I apprehend, the meeting
at Caerwys faded away; the v minstrel ceased
to be considered as a venerable character in
England, and our monarchs looked, probably,
with equal contempt on the bards of Wales.
Thus neglected and despised, the Eisteddfod
dwindled to nothing, and reposed in oblivion
for many years. Of late, however, some
spirited Welsh gentlemen, who had the honour
of their national harmony at heart, determined
to revive a meeting likely to preserve and en-
courage that musical excellence for which
their countrymen have been so deservedly fa-
mous for many centuries. This spring their
resolution was carried into effect, and an
Eisteddfod held at Caerwys, the ancient place
of meeting; the ceremonies and proceedings
of which were as follow;-
In consequence of a notice published* by
the gentlemen of the Gwyneddion, or Venedotian
society in London, the Eisteddfod, or congress
of bards, commenced at Caerwys, on Tuesday
29th of May. 1798. Ancient euston requires.,
that the notice should be given a twelve-month
* For this account I am indebted to Mr. Henry Parryj of
Holywell.
[ 257 ]
and a day prior to the holding of the meeting.
The ancient town-hall was properly prepared
for the company, which was very numerous
and respectable, by the judges appointed by
the above society, to whose a&ivity and pub-
lic spirit on this occasion too much praise
cannot be given.
The first day was taken up in reading and
comparing the works of the different candi-
dates for the gader^ or chair. On a subject so
congenial to the spirit of the ancient Britons,
as " the love of our country, and the com*
ec memoration of the celebrated Eisteddfod,
" held at the same town and under the same
" roof by virtue of a commission from Queen
tf Elizabeth," the thesis judiciously fixed upon
by the Gwyneddigion, it was natural to suppose
that the productions would be numerous and
animated; which proved to be the fact. After
mature deliberation, the judges decided in
favour of Robtrt aji Dafydd, of Nantglyn, in
Denbighshire, known among the bards by the
name of Robin Ddu o Nantglyn. The next to
him in point of merit was Thomas Edwards or
Nant, by some called the Welsh Shakespeare,, on
account, of the superior excellence of his dra-
matic pieces in the Welsh language. To-
[ 258 ]
wards the heel of the evening, the bards, when
their native fire was a little heated with cwrrw
da, poured forth their extemporaneous effusions
on subjects started at the moment; which,
though truly excellent in their kind, reminded
the classical scholar of the poet mentioned by
Horace, who composed two hundred lines
stans fiede in uuo. Ot these productions, the
Englynion, or separate stanzas, on Mr. Owen
Jones, of London, the gentleman who was the
principal encourager of the meeting, as having
contributed twenty pounds to be distributed
according to merit, in prizes to the different
competitors, deserve the most eminent place.
On the second day, the vocal and instru-
mental performers exhibited their powers;
and after a contest of twelve hours and up-
wards, Robert Fou/ks, of St. Asaph, was de-
clared to be the jiencerdd dafod, or chief vocal
performer; and William Jones, of Gwytherin,
to be the Jiencerdd dant, or the chief harper.
This Eisteddfod was very well attended; the
number of the bards amounted to twenty, of
the vocal performers to eighteen, and of the
harpers to twelve.
Several connoisseurs in music, who were .pre-
sent, declared that they never recollected a
[ 259 ]
tontest of this nature to be better maintained,
or to afford more amusement."
But though Caerwys is thus as it were the
focus of harmony, the theatre where musical
talent has been so often and so highly dis-
played, yet the circumstance does not seem to
have inspir^ any of its inhabitanrs with a love
for the science ; since, in spite of all our en-
quiries, we are riot able to find a person who
can regale us with a tune upon the harp.
The little family at our head-quarters (the
Crossed-Foxes') has interested us extremely,
It consists of a widow woman, her son, and
daughter 5 the former is a middle-aged person,
with a cast of melancholy in her countenance,
and an humbleness of manners, which indicate
a knowledge of better days, but at the same
time a perfect resignation to her present situ-
ation. The daughter, a sweet-tempered, mo-
dest little girl, about seventeen ; the boy, a
sprightly and sensible lad of thirteen or four-
teen. There is no surer roadj my friend, to the
confidence of an honest heart, than by taking
a real interest in its feelings. The poor woman
saw that our enquiries were not the result of
impertinent curiosity, and therefore told us,
without reserve, her short but melancholy story.
C 260 ]
Two years since, she observed, she was living
in credit and comfort, with a kind and tender
husband, and a son grown to man's estate,
dutiful and affectionate, the darling of herself,
and beloved by all the country round. Her
husband, who had been brought up in the
mine-agency business, had just obtained an
appointment which cleared him about three
hundred pounds per annum, and an establish-
ment of a similar nature was promised to the
eldest son. The other children, a daughter
since married, and the two younger ones, were
placed in the best schools of the country, and
nothing seemed wanting to complete the hap-
piness of the little contented family. In the
midst of this halcyon but deceitful calm, her
husband caught a violent cold in one of the
mines which he superintended: a fever suc-
ceeded, and in a few days he was judged to be
in danger. During the sickness of his father,
the elder son, who doated on him, was rivetted
to his bed ; he nursed and attended him when
awake, and watched by his pillow whilst he
dosed; administered his medicines, and pre-
pared his food. The physician at length pro-
nounced that all hope was past, and the pati-
ent must die. Two days confirmed his pre-
t 261 ]
diction, for on the evening of the second the
affectionate son witnessed the expiring strug-
gle of his beloved parent. From this moment
the youth was never heard to speak; he did
not weep, indeed, but the deep convulsive
sighs which burst occasionally from his bosom
bespoke the unutterable grief with which he
was oppressed. Nothing, however, could pre-
vent him paying the last duties to his parent,
and attending the corpse to the adjoining
church-yard. But reason was unequal to this
effort, the solemn ceremony of interment, the
weeping croud around, and the chilling sound
of the earth rattling on the coffin, when the
body was consigned to its final home, destroyed
his poor remains of sense. He uttered a heart-
piercing shriek, and started into a paroxysm
of the wildest phrenzy. Providence kindly
ordained that his sufferings should not be long;
a raging fever immediately attacked him, and
in a few days carried off this unhappy vi6tim
to filial affection. Thus deprived of her pro-
tector, and the means of supporting her family,
the disconsolate widow was suddenly reduced
from happiness and independence to affliction
tfnd want, and constrained to enter upon the
situation in which we found her, in order to
[ 262 ]
procure a precarious and scanty maintenance
for herself and her children.
During our former, as well as present pro-
gress through Flintshire, we have had occasion
to observe that English is very generally spoken
by all classes of society; in SQ much, as nearly
to supersede the use of the national tongue.
We were unable to account for this circum-
stance till to-day, when pur landlady's sprightly
son acquainted us with the cause of it. One
great object of education, it seems, in the schools
(both of boys and girls) of North- Wales, is to
give the children a perfect knowledge of the
English tongue; the masters not only having
the exercises performed in this language, but
obliging the children to converse in it also. In
order to effect this, some coercion is necessary,
as the little Britons have a considerable aversion
to the Saxon vocabulary ; if, therefore, in the
colloquial intercourse of the scholars, one of
them be detected in speaking a Welsh word,
he is immediately degraded with the Welsh lump,
a large piece of lead fastened to a string, an4
suspended . round the neck of the offender.
This mark of ignominy has had the desired
effect; all the children of Flintshire speak
English very well, and were it not for a little
[ 263 ]
curl, or elevation of the voice, at the conclusion
of the sentence, (which has a pleasing effe61)
one should perceive no difference in this re-
spect between the North- Wallians and the na-
tives of England. The pride of the English"
man may, perhaps, be gratified by so great a
compliment paid to his vernacular tongue; but
the philosopher will lose much by the amalga-
mation that is rapidly taking place in the lan-
guage and manners of Wales, and our own
country.
YoUr's, &c.
R. W,
Caerwys
LETTER XL,
TO THE SAME.
Conwqy, Aug. 28^.
HPHE early part of the morning was very
unfavourable to us. That close, small
rain, which the South-Britons with sarcastic
impertinence denominate a Scotch mist, beat
violently in our faces for three or four hours,
and long before we reached St. Asaph drenched
us to the skin. A brisk fire, however, soon
remedied the evil. Having dried ourselves,
therefore, and paid due respet to the rolls and
[ 266 j
tea, we strolled through the pretty town of St.
Asaph, and visited its cathedral. This build-
ing is small, but extremely neat and clean,
pleasingly situated on a little rise of ground,
.that swells out of the vale of Clwyd, nearly at
its northern extremity. It was built towards
the conclusion of the fifteenth century, but
owes its present very decent appearance to
the attention of the Dean and Chapter, who
fitted it up a few years since, at the expence of
nearly three thousand pounds. One little
/^breach of costume occurs in the body of the fa-
| brie, the stone figure of a bishop of the i6th
\ century, who has been taken from his horizon-
j tal cumbent position, in which he reposed
\ very soundly, and once more set upon his legs
I after a sleep of two hundred and eighty years !
A grand view presents itself from the top of
the tower, embracing the whole extent of the
vale of Clwyd, the neighbouring mountains,
and unbounded ocean. The more immediate
objects are of the most pleasing kind the
bishop's palace, built by the present prelate,
an elegant but modest stone edifice, with much
taste and a great deal of comfort around it.
The deanery, also, has its attractions in more
ways than one.
Pursuing the western bank of the river for
two miles, we reached the bridge of Rhuddlan,
and crossing it, entered a town which was for-
merly one of the most respe&able of North-
Wales, but has now no trace of its ancient
importance save the ruins of its castle. Situ-
ated on an eminence at the northern extremity
of the vale of Clwyd, the sagacity of Edward I.
easily discovered that a fortress built on the
spot would prove a most important assistance
to him in the great plan he was about to un-
dertake the conquest of Wales ; and accord-
ingly, having taken possession of the place, he
ere&ed the present castle, (a strong square
building) and made Rhuddlan the depot of
his stores, and the rendezvous of his army
employed in this expedition. In grateful re-
membrance of the service which Rhuddlan
had proved to him, Edward, after the subju-
gation of the Welsh, made the town a free
borough, and conferred several very important
privileges upon it. Here too he assembled a
parliament in 1283, in which all the regula-
tions relative to his new conquest were framed
and established, and which being properly
systematized and arranged,, were passed into a
[ 268 j
statute, still known by the name of the Statute
of RhuddJan.
A bridle causeway, four or five miles in
length, leads the traveller across Morfa-Rhudd-
lan, or the Marsh of Rhuddlan, better known
as being the name of a most pathetic air, one
of the finest specimens of old Welsh harmony.
This tune is an efiicedion, composed by the bards
on the death of Prince Caradoc, who was
killed in a desperate battle fought on this spot
between the English and Welsh in the year
795.* Nothing can be more plaintive, so-
lemn, and simple, than the measures of this
tune; they always- bring to my recollection
the lamentations of Fingal on the death of his
son, when the bards of the hero awoke their
harps in praise of the deceased, and poured
out their griefs in song.
" Art thou fallen, O Oscar, in the midst of
" thy course ? The heart of the aged beats over
" thee! He sees thy coming wars! The wars
" which ought to come, he sees! They are cut
" off from thy fame I When shall joy dwell
* To celebrate the adions of the slaughtered chieftain was
one great duty of the ancient bards. Celtae hymnorum suorum
argumentura faciunt, viros qui in pradiis fortiter pugnantes occu-
buerunt. JElian. Var. Hist. lib. xii.
" at Selma ? When shall grief depart from
" Morven \ My sons fall by degrees ; Fingal is
" the last of his race. My fame begins to
" pass away. Mine age will be without friends.
" I shall sit a grey cloud in my hall. I shall
" not hear the return of a son in his sounding
" course. Weep, ye heroes of Morven ! Never
" more shall Oscar rise!"
The little bathing town of Abergelan af-
forded us some excellent London porter and
Shropshire cheese. Whilst we were enjoying
this repast, mine host, who seemed to regard
our attacks upon his loaf with some astonish-
ment, after begging pardon for making so
bold, requested to know whether we were of
" the party" The expression was of so Proteus-
like a nature, (particularly in these days of dif-
ference and division) that we did not at all
understand him, I therefore desired he would
explain himself. , " Why, gentlemen," re-
turned he, " I wished to be informed whe-
" ther you belonged to the set of strolling players
" who are lately gone to Bangor, because, if
" you had, I would have troubled- one of you
" with an old shirt which a gentleman of the party
".left behind him instead of his reckoning,
" when he passed through here." We had
[ 270 ] < ,
already been taken for militia-men, plunderers,
and recruits, but had no idea of the honour
that awaited us, of being ranked amongst the
itinerant sons of Thespis.
The mountains now began to approach the
road to the left hand ; but one more remark-
able than the rest particularly engaged our at-
tention. It is a huge calcareous rock, about
a mile from Abergelan, called Cefn-Ogo, or
the bank of the cavern; an inexhaustible
mine of lime-stone, where a multitude of la-
bourers are constantly employed in blasting
the rock, and breaking the masses for exporta-
tion. But what chiefly renders it curious is,
the circumstance of a number of natural ca-
verns penetrating its side in different places ;
one of which, called Ogo, or the cavern, (xar'
t%"Xyv) is well worth a visit. To this C. C II
and I scrambled up with much difficulty, but
had no reason to regret the toil of ascending.
Its mouth resembles the huge arched entrance
of a Gothic cathedral. A few feet within
this, and immediately in the centre of it, a
rock rising from the floor to the lofty roof, not
unlike a massive pillar rudely sculptured, di-
vides the cavern into two apartments. The
hollow to the left soon terminates ; but that to
[ 71 ]
the right spreads into a large chamber^ thirty
feet in height, and stretching to an uncertain
depth, as human curiosity has never been
hardy enough to attempt ascertaining it. Ma-
king a sharp turn a few yards from the en-
trance, and sweeping into the interior of the
mountain, the form and dimensions of this
abyss are concealed in impenetrable darkness ;
we could only follow its windings, therefore,
about forty yards with prudence, as the light
here totally deserted us, and the flooring be-
came both dirty and unsafe. Stalactites of
various fanciful forms decorate the fretted roof
and sides of this extraordinary cavern, the en-
trance of which commands a view surprisingly
grand and extensive.
Descending to our companions, we strolled
quietly on to the passage-house on the eastern
side of the Conway river, through a bold pic-
turesque country, enjoying the glorious tints
of a fine evening, gradually succeeding each
-other till they were lost in the mild radiance
of the moon;
<f Who now rose mellowing the grey rocks, and play'd
" On the still sea."
Arriving at length at the passage-house, we
discovered the tide was out, and that we could
not get to Conway unless we chose to cross
the sands to the channel of the river, about
three quarters of a mile distant, where a boat
was in waiting to receive passengers. On our
expressing some doubts as to the safety of this
expedition at night and without a guide, the
man at the passage observed, with a sarcastic
grin, that if we were expeditious we should
overtake a party who would at both as guides
and prote&ors to us three old women crossing
to Conway with butter and eggs. Ashamed
of being thought unequal to any undertaking
of these antiquated females, we immediately
pursued the direction they had taken ; but, not-
withstanding our expedition, could not reach
them before they had crossed the brook in the
sands, by wading through it, after pulling off
their stockings and shoes, and tucking up their
petticoats to the middle. Here our courage
failed us ; we enquired, therefore, of these am-
phibious ladies whether or not there were a
safer place for crossing the brook- They an-
swered, that a quarter of a mile lower down it
might be avoided entirely, but desired us to
make haste, as the tide was rapidly coming in,
Following their dire&ion, we soon found our-
selves in the midst of a wild waste of sand,
[ 273 ]
which, thrown into ridges by the undulation of
the water, had the appearance of a solid sea.
The light of the moon, not sufficient to render
any of the surrounding objects visible, reflected
a faint ray upon this expanse alone, which
gave an air of desolation to it that filled the
imagination with the most awful fancies.
Nor were these dissipated by the conviction
of real danger, arising from the treachery of
the sands, which occasionally gave way under
our feet, and the flowing tide that closely fol-
lowed our footsteps. At length, with consi-
derable difficulty, we gained the boat, were
ferried to Conway, and soon reached our old
quarters the " Bull's-Head;" where the same
fair damsels who honoured us with their at-
tendance last year, have just covered our table
with a plentiful repast.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
Parys Mountaii
LETTER XII.
TO THE SAME.
Caernarvon, Sept. 1st.
"VTOU have already accompanied me from
A Conway to Bangor, and been introduced
to Mr. Hutchings at the Three Eagles. Here
we slept on the 29th, and the ensuing day
crossed the Menai in order to visit Anglesey.
Several ferries ply on this trajetus -, we fortu-
nately took that of Garth-Point, about half a
[ 276 ]
mile from Bangor, which afforded us a very
curious and singular character. It is worked
by an old woman, by name Grace Parry, but
more commonly called, from the place of her
abode, Gras-y-Garth; a short, thick, squat
female, who, though upwards of sixty winters
have passed over her head, is as strong as a
horse, and as aclive as one of her own country
goats. Her excellence in rowing and mana-
ging a boat is unrivalled through the coast, but
cannot be wondered at, as she served an early
apprenticeship to the business, under her fa-
ther and mother, who lived at the same little
cottage which she inhabits, and worked the
same passage for the better part of the past
century. The prowess of her mother, and the
skill of her father, are still the favourite themes
of her discourse. She remembers with parti-
cular pleasure his ability in swimming, (for he
seems to have been nearly an amphibious ani-
mal) and, as a proof of it, relates a circum-
stance that frequently occurred, even when he
had passed his grand clima&eric. The ferry
was generally plied by the joint exertions of
this couple, who, upon the whole, were to-
lerably loving-, but as storms will happen-, in
the fairest days, so their conjugal serenity was
[ 277 ]
occasionally disturbed; and sometimes an al-
tercation would take place when they were
ferrying their passengers across the Menai. In
these cases, the wife, who was the better man
of the two, so completely worsted her spouse in
obloquy and abuse, that, unable to bear it, he
would suddenly cast off his jacket, leap into
the Menai, and swim towards his cottage,
bidding his dame, with a string of Welsh ex-
ecrations, take care of the passengers herself.
Grace, indeed, seems to have imbibed much
of her- mother's noble spirit - 3 and looks down
with some contempt on our sex, whom she
considers as inferior animals, and regards only
as necessary evils. She has long been married,
'tis true, but seldom allows her husband to
assist her in the important avocations of row-
ing and fishing ; because, as she frankly told
us, he could not do it half so well as herself. No-
thing intimidates this Cambrian heroine; she
stands in fear of no human being, and is
equally regardless of the rage of the elements.
Last winter her boat drifted away in the night,
and Grace for some days thought it had been
stove to pieces. However, as it was her free-
hold estate, she made diligent enquiry after it,
and at length discovered that it had been ta-
[ 278 ]
ken up and carried to Liverpool. Engaging
a stout fellow in the neighbourhood to ac-
company her, she instantly set off for this port
on foot, though nearly sixty miles distant, and
having recovered her property, embarked on
board the skiff, (not more than twelve or thir-
teen feet on the keel) and with the assistance
of her companion, actually rowed it back to
Garth-Point, through heavy seas and squally
weather, as perilous a voyage as ever was
performed.
As we found Grace's prejudices against the
English were rather violent, and not knowing
to what length they might carry her, particu-
larly when she was under the influence of
civrrw da, we thought it necessary, for the
safety of future Saxon travellers, to reward her
labours with doubJe the sum she demanded.
This unexpected generosity so gratified the old
woman, that she swore most bitterly we were
the greatest gentlemen she ever met with 3 she
declared, she should always like the English
for our sake, and insisted upon shaking hands
with us individually at parting. We indulged
her wish, but (whether she meant it as a token
of her kindness, or a proof of her strength, I
know not) gave us each such a serious gripe as
almost dislocated our fingers.
We now trod the sacred ground of Monti*
the holy-land of the ancient Britons, the great
school of Druidism, so often stained by the
bloody rites of a superstition the most dreadful
and powerful that ever enchained the human
mind. Anglesey, you know, was indebted to
Suetonius Paulinus, the Roman leader, for its
deliverance from this terrible scourge ; the ex-
tinction of which was attended, according to
the historian, with an appropriate scene of
horror and confusion, the conquerors firing the
consecrated groves, and slaying the bloody
priests on the same altars which had formerly
smoaked with the blood of their human,
viftims.
Winding up the declivity which rise? over
the Menai, we took a path across the fields to
Beaumaris, the handsomest and best-built town
in Anglesey. The noble remains of a castle
built by the conqueror of Wales stand to the
eastward of the town, famous for its spacious
hall and elegant chapel. ^\bove the town is
]Baron-Hill, the seat of Lord Bulkley, boasting
. one of the finest situations in the world , com-
prising the stupendous chain of the CaernarT
[ 280 ]
vonshirc mountains, ending in the huge pro*
montory of Pen-mawn-maur, islands and head-
lands, straits and oceans. With these grand
objects before the eye, one is naturally hurt at
fa little ornament in the neighbourhood of the
/""'house, stuck upon the point of a hill, of a
castellated shape, and intended for a banquet-
ing or tea-drinking house ; an object in itself
insignificant, but particularly contemptible
from the circumstance of its situation, which is
just over the majestic ruins of Edward's
mighty fortress.
Having received directions to Plas-Gwyn,
the seat of Mr. Panton, we pursued our walk
for five miles through a country rather unin-
teresting from its uniform flatness and want of
trees. This scene, however, was agreeably
relieved when we reached the neighbourhood
of Plas-Gwyn. The house, a well-built brick
mansion, stands rather low, embosomed in
woods; but the land around it undulates agree-
ably, and when laid out according to the judi-
cious plan of the respectable owner, will exhi-
bit a pleasing range of diversified and tasty
pleasure-grounds.
Understanding that we wished to survey the
Parys-Mine, Mr. Panton favoured us with di-
[ 281 ]
retions to Amlwcb, about eighteen miles
distant from Plas-Gwyn, together with an
introduction to the Rev. Mr. Mealey of that
town; a gentleman of great information, and
the most liberal communication. With these
assistances we continued our walk, after pro-
mising to return to the hospitable mansion on
the ensuing day.
Our route led us through a country wild and
forlorn, thinly inhabited, and bare of wood ;
the husbandry of the most negligent sort, fields
choaked with weeds, meadows without drains,
and soil without manure. We were more
particularly struck with the absence of trees,
having naturally enough supposed that the
former scene of Druidical superstition, the
horrors of which were carried on in the dark
recesses of consecrated groves, would not be
totally destitute of wood. Nor did Anglesey
always wear this naked appearance. - Classical
authors tell us it had its venerable woods, and
the ancient British appellation Ynis-Dywyl, or
the dark island, intimates the same fat. The
word Ihvyn, (grove) also, is a common adjunft
to the names of many places through the island ;
and bodies of trees are constantly met with in
the pits from which the inhabitants get their
[ 282 ]
peat. The scantiness of population, the im-
perfeft intercourse of the villagers with each
other, and the infrequency of travelling in this
quarter of Anglesey, was singularly exempli-
fied in an accident that happened to myself as
we were passing on to Amlvvch. About eight
miles from Mr. Panton's I sat down on a bank
by the road-side, to insert some observations
in my memorandum-book, and having finished
them, hastened after my companions. Pro-
ceeding nearly three miles further, I had occa-
sion to make other minutes, when feeling in
my pocket for the book, I discovered, to my
confusion, that it was lost. Nothing remained
but to return to the spot where I had taken it
out. This I did with a palpitating heart, and
little hopes of regaining it. But my joy scarcely
equalled my surprise, when I saw the case
(which was a large one) and its contents, lying
in a very conspicuous place by the side of the
road, although upwards of two hours had
elapsed since I left it on the spot.
On returning to my companions, I found them
regaling at a small public-house on civrrw and
wigs. The latter is a species of muffin, rather
larger than ours, but to the full as light and
agreeable. They are common all over. North-
[ 283 ]
Wales, and are really a good substitute for
bread, which is very coarse and black. The
oaten-cakes, though eaten with avidity by the
Welsh, are to south-country Englishmen by no
means palatable.
As it was necessary for us to see Mr. Mealey
before our visit to the Parys mountain, we left
the mines on our right and made for Amlwch, a
sea-port in the north-eastern corner of Angle-
sey. Originally nothing more than a small
fishing-town, its present consequence arises
entirely from the connection it has with the
great copper-mines in its neighbourhood, which
have wuthin five and thirty years increased its
population from two hundred to five thousand.*
Of these, by far the greater part consists of
the families of the workmen employed in the
mountain and smelting-houscs, who amount
together to about thirteen hundred. They are
a remarkably decent and orderly race of peo-
ple the men healthy and strong ; the women
tall and robust, with fine countenances, spark-
ling black eyes, and teeth like ivory.
The port of Amlwch is an excavation out
of the solid rock, sufficiently large to receive
* The population of Anglesey is estimated at twenty-fire
thousand; the parish of Amlwch reckons about five thousand,
and that of Holyhead two thousand.
[ 284 ].
thirty vessels of two hundred tons burthen,
made at the expence of the Anglesey Copper
Companies for the convenience of their ship-
ping. At high-water vessels of the above-
mentioned tonnage can lie close to the quay,
and receive the ore and metal for exportation ;
but when the ebb takes place, the port is dry.
The comfortable house of Mr. Stephen Rouse,
an agent to the mines, received us in the even-
ing. It has no sign, or other indication of an
inn, but accommodates, notwithstanding, any
decent traveller.
On the ensuing morning, after an early
breakfast, of which Mr. Mealey did us the fa-
vour to partake, we left Amlwch to visit the
Parys mountain, and survey the mines. This
vast natural acervation of mineral, which
measures a mile in length and half a mile over,
rises to the south-east of the town at some-
thing less than two miles from it. Its appear-
ance is waste, wild, and barren in the extreme ;
not a vestige of green is seen on its parched
and scarified surface, all vegetation being pre-
cluded by the sulphureous fumes which arise
from the roasting heaps and smelting-houses,
and extend their destru6live effefts for mires
around. Various opinions are entertained as
[ 285 ]
to the origin of its name; but etymologists
will, perhaps, give a preference to that which
derives it from the ancient Celtic word praas,
brass or precious metal. The adoption of this
opinion, however, naturally leads to the idea
that the riches of this mountain were known
to and extracted by the ancient British} nor
should we, probably, be far from the truth,
were we to admit this supposition. Our an-
cestors, as we are informed by an unquestion-
able authority, worked the mines of this coun-
try, and exchanged their produce for various
articles of foreign commerce.* The instru-
ments they made use of in Anglesey, for this
purpose, are frequently found in and near the
mountain smooth, oval stones, (their ends
splintered and fractured) with which they
broke the masses of ore, after having separated
them from the parent rock, by heating it in-
tensely, and then pouring water or vinegar
upon the ignited part. The Romans, also,
who, according to Pliny,f descended into the
bowels of the earth, and visited the habita-
tions of the Manes in search of riches,J would
* Strabo, lib. iii. p. 265. f PHny, lib. xxxiii. c. 4.
Iraus in viscera ejus et in sedes maniura opes quaerimus.
Lib. xxxiii. Proem.
[ 286.]
not neglet so valuable a source of them as
Parys mountain, particularly if they found it
opened to their hands by. the people they had
subdued. How long a time elapsed after the
Roman period, before this vast bed of mineral
was again worked, is uncertain, as nothing
occurs relative to it till the sixteenth century.
In the reign of Elizabeth, one branch of whose
extensive policy was an attention to the mines
of her kingdom, those of Parys mountain were
granted to certain patentees in order to be
worked, as the original documents remaining
in a gentleman's possession sufficiently prove.
After this time they seem to have slumbered
in neglecl: and oblivion for a century and a half,
when an accidental circumstance again brought
them into notice, and poured a flood of unex-
pe&ed riches upon the fortunate proprietors of
the disregarded property. The fa6t is thus
related by Mr. Pennant, whose account is, as
we are informed, accurate in every particular*
P. 266.
" In the year 1762, one Alexander Frazier
" came into Anglesey in search of mines. He
" visited Parys mountain ; called on Sir Ni-
" cholas Bayley, and gave him so flattering an
" account of the prospet, as induced him to
[ 287 ]
tr make a trial, and sink shafts. Ore was
" discovered ; but before any quantity could be
" gotten, the mines were overpowered with
" water. la about two years after, Messrs.
" Roe and Co. of Macclesfield, applied to Sir
" Nicholas for a lease of Penrhyn-ddu mine in
" Caernarvonshire, with which they were,
" much against their wills, compelled to take
" a lease of part of this mountain, and to carry
" on a level and make a fair trial. The trial
" was accordingly made; ore was discovered,
" but the expences overbalanced the profits.
" They continued working to great loss, and
" at length determined to give the affair up.
" They gave their agent orders for that purpose;
" but he, as a final attempt, divided his men
" into ten several companies, of three or four
" in a partnership, and let them sink shafts in
" various places, about eight hundred yards
" eastward of a place called the Golden Venture,
" on a presumption that a spring, which issued
" from near the place, must come from a body
" of mineral. His conjecture was right; for in
" less than two days they met with, at the
" depth of seven feet from the surface, the solid
'" mineral, which proved to be that vast body
" which has since been worked to such advan-
[ 288 ]
" tage. The day that this discovery was made
" was March 2d, 1768, which has ever since
" been observed as a festival by the miners.
" Soon after this discovery, another adventure
" was begun by the Rev. Mr. Edward Hughes,
" owner of part of the mountain, in right of
" his wife, Mary Lewis, of Llys-Dinas."
This invaluable estate is divided between
the Earl of Uxbridge, son of the late Sir
Nicholas Bayley ; the Rev. Mr. Hughes, who
about thirty years since lived upon a small
curacy in the eastern corner of Anglesey; and
Mr. Williams, formerly an attorney in North-
Wales. The Earl has one moiety of the whole
mountain, and an estate in common with Mr.
Hughes in the remaining moiety. Under these
proprietors Mr. Williams is a lessee.
Our first visit was to the Mona mine, as it is
called, the property of Lord Uxbridge, of which
language is utterly inadequate to convey a dis-
tin6l idea. Unlike all the mines we had hitherto
seen, the wonders of this abyss are not con-
cealed by a superficial crust of earth, but all
is open to the day. The bowels of the .moun-
tain are literally torn out, and the mighty ruin
lies subject to the eye. Standing on the edge
of the excavation, the speftator beholds an
[ 89 ]
awful range of huge caverns, profound hollows,
stupendous arches, gloomy passages, and enor-
mous masses of rock, not improperly compared
by our friend J ^ n to the cave of Cacus, after
Hercules had exposed the secret recesses of his
subterraneous retreat to the light of the sun.
* " Specus, et Caci detefta apparuit ingens
" Regia, et umbrosae penitus patuere cavernae."
Amid this striking scenery the miners may be
observed engaged in their curious, but perilous
occupations. Some sticking to the sides of the
rock, or seated on the narrow ledges of preci-
pices, which gape beneath them to the depth
of one or two hundred feet, tearing the ore
from the mountain, and breaking it into smaller
masses; others boring the rock in order to
blast it; whilst a third party were literally hang-
ing over the abyss below them, drawing up and
lowering down the ore buckets, supported only
by a frame of wood-work, which quivers like
an aspen leaf with the operation carrying on
upon it. Whilst contemplating this very un-
usual sight, we heard, ever and anon, loud ex-
plosions " rattling through the dark profound,"
occasioned by the discharge of the gunpowder
used in separating the ore from the mountain.
These reports varied, increased, and multiplied
amongst the passages and caverns of the abyss,
completed the effect; and united with the scene
of rocky ruin below us, excited the idea of the
final consummation of all things of nature
sinking into universal wreck.
Nor, indeed, are the impressions of alarm
arising from this view of the Parys mountain
mines altogether causeless, since accidents fre-
quently happen amongst them, from the foun-
dering of the rock, the unexpected explosions
of the blast, the treachery of the ropes, and
the giving way of the wooden frame-work.
But notwithstanding these common instances
of destruction, (which, we are told, amount to
ten or twelve in a year) the people employed
follow their several occupations amid noise and
confusion, danger and horror, with a degree
of incaution and fearlessness that perfect se-
curity can hardly authorise.
The excavations, of which I have thus at-
tempted to give you an outline, are some of
them above three hundred -feet deep; the body
of ore being found to extend thus low, and in
general increasing in value the deeper it de-
scends. From this great depth, and, probably,
far beyond it, the mineral rises within a jfew
feet of the surface, where it is covered by a
[ 291 ]
crust* composed of a little earth and about two
yards of an ochrey substance, called by the
miners the red crust. The minerals which this
vast bed contains are as follow:-
1. The yellow Sulphurated, copper or&
2. Native coffer, rarely found, and in small quantities.
3. Sulphate vf copper, both crystalized and in solution.
4. Sulphate of lead, containing a considerable proportion
of silver;
5. Black ore, containing copper mixed with galena, cala-
mine, and a small quantity of silver.*
(5. Native sulphur*
Large masses of ore being separated from
the mountain by means of gunpowder, they
are afterwards broken into lumps, from one to
two pounds in weight, and shipped in that state
for Liverpool and Swansea. The larger part
is carried to the former port, and goes from
thence to Ravenhead, near Prescot, to be
smelted. Such as is exported to' Swansea is
smelted in the great works belonging to the
* Mr. Arthur Aiken, in his valuable little volume, " A Journal
" of a Tour through North- Wales," mentions malachite, or
green and blue carbonate of copper, amongst the produces of
the Parys mountain ; but here he seems (what very rarely hap-
pens to him) to be under a mistake, since I am informed by gen-
tlemen of great mineralogical knowledge, who live in the neigh-
bourhood of these mines, that the malachite is never found there;
and the black ore so rarely^ as scarcely to deserve a place in the
list of the produfts of the Parys mountain.
[ 292 ]
Parys-Mine Company in the vicinity 6f that
town. The vessels carrying the ore to these
ports freight back with coals and Wigari slack.
It is to be observed, that the ore of this moun-
tain, in general, is but poor, and that the richest
of it only goes to Glamorganshire and Lanca-
shire. The poorer sort is manufactured into a
regulus (for exportation to Liverpool and Holy-
well) in convenient works on the mountain by
the following process : It is first broken into
small pieces by women and children, who,
armed with iron-gloves, reduce it to the requi-
site size with hammers. Being piled into a
kiln (similar to those in which lime is burned)
of great length, and about six feet high, (con-
taining from two to three hundred to as many
thousand tons of ore) it is covered over tightly
and carefully, and set on fire. During this ig-
nition, which continues for three, fourj five, or
six months, (according to the quantity roasted}
the sulphur combined with the ore sublimes to
the top of the kiln, and is conveyed, by a flue
connected with it, to a receptacle called the
sulphur chamber-, from whence it is afterwards
taken, purified, melted, cast into rolls, and
sent to London. Having undergone the pro-
cess of roasting, the ore is then taken to the
t 293 ]
slacking-plt, constructed of stone, about six
yards long, five wide, and eighteen inches or
two feet deep. Here it continues two or three
days, exposed to the aftion of a stream that runs
through the place. From hence it is carried
to the puddle, a stagnant pool similar to that
made use of in purifying lead ore, and after-
wards thrown into a sieve, of one mesh to the
square inch. Such as remains in the machine
is buckered as the miners term it, or reduced to
coarse powder, and carried again to the puddle.
What passes through this sieve is thrown into
another of five meshes to the inch. Much of
it is by this time too small to be retained by
this sieve, and consequently escapes through
it. This is once more taken to \hzpuddle, and
being drawn twice through the water, it is in
a proper state to be smelted.
The water of the slacking pits and puddles,
becoming by these processes strongly impreg-
nated with mineral particles, is converted to a
very lucrative purpose. Reservoirs of various
dimensions, according to the convenience of
situation, are formed in the neighbourhood of
the pits and puddles, into which the water thus
saturated is conducted by proper channels. In
these, plates of cast-iron, two or three feet long,
. [ 294 ]
between one and^wo broad, and three quarters
of an inch in thickness, are immersed vertically,
and a wonderful chemical process, amounting
apparently to a transmutation of metals, in a
short time takes place.
This process, however, is more complete with
respect to the water pumped up from the bot-
tom of the mine, arising from springs in the
mountain, and rain falling and collecting in the
gulphs below. By these means a prodigious
emolument accrues to the proprietors, a fund
that seems to be inexhaustible, as it must
continue as long as the springs shall flow, and
the rain shall fall. This water dissolving all
the native copper which it finds, becomes richly
saturated with the mineral. In that state it is
pumped up from the bottom of the mine into
such pits as I have described above, wherein
iron plates are properly placed, or refuse masses
of the same metal indifferently cast. Here the
acid of the copperas seizes upon, or enters into
combination with the iron, and the copper
which it held in solution drops to the bottom
in the form or appearance of a rust-coloured
sediment. A man or boy, with an instrument
like a garden hoe, scrapes the copper from the
plates or pieces of old iron every day, until the
[ 295 ]
whole of the iron be consumed. The precipi-
tate is then raked out, and being dried in a
kiln, becomes almost equal in value to native
copper.
This - singular process also produces another
profit; the acid of the copperas, in its union
with the iron, reducing the latter to a calx,
from which is made a considerable quantity of
yellow and red ochre, exported to the London
and Liverpool markets.
We could not gratify our curiosity with a
sight of an allum work and a green vitriol manu-
factory in the neighbourhood of the mountain,
as no stranger is allowed to see the process
pursued in making these substances.
After spending some hours on and in the
mountain, we retraced our road to Plas-Gwyn,
where an elegant hospitality, much domestic
comfort, social converse, and a most agreeable
party, rendered it a matter of great regret to
us that we could not prolong our stay beyond
this morning.
Under the direction of Mr. Panton, we
quitted Plas-Gwyn after breakfast, and took a
near road to Plas-Newydd, the costly seat of
the Earl of Uxbridge. Our course led us
through the village of Pen-Mynydd, remark-
able for being the birth-place of Owen Tudor,
the great ancestor of a line of English mo-
narchs, who, (according to Gray's bard, in a,
prediction delivered some centuries after the
completion of the event) restored the sceptre
of England to the Welsh, the original posses-
sors of it.
' ' But oh ! what solemn scenes on Snowdon's height
" Descending slow their glittering skirts unroll?
" Visions of glory ! spare my aching sight,
" Ye unborn ages croud not on my soul !
" No more our long-lost Arthur we bewail j
" All hail, ye genuine kings ! Britannia's issue, hail !"
The residence of this ancient and respectable
family has been long dilapidated. What re-
mains is incorporated in a farm-house ; but
coats of arms, escutcheons, and specimens of
old masonry, still exist to evince its former
respectability.
We proceeded to the mansion of Plas-Newydd
through the park, an inclosure of no great ex-
tent, but extremely beautiful, gently sloping to
the Menai, and covered with venerable oaks,
and noble ash trees. In the midst of this fine
sylvan scene, stand two august and most ap-
propriate ornaments, relics of Druidical su-
perstition, and monuments of the rude art of
r 297 ]
the ancient British, by far the greatest and
most perfecl specimens of Druidical remains
in the whole island. They are what antiqua-
ries call cromlechs.
These huge piles stand contiguous to each
other, (as is, I believe, generally the case with
respect to the cromlech) but the eastern is con-
siderably the larger of the two. This seems
originally to have consisted of seven stones,
six uprights supporting an immense super-
incumbent one, (with its flat face lying upon
them) thirteen feet long, nearly as much broad,
and four feet thick. When first constructed,
it would probably have admitted a tall man to
stand upright in it. The western cromlech is
a child to its mighty neighbour, little more than
five feet long by four and half broad; originally
supported by four stones, one of which is
fallen from its proper situation.
Whether or not these prodigious piles of
stones were raised to the honour of the Deity,
or to the memory of the departed hero, would
lead us into a field of enquiry too wide for a
letter to investigate. Both opinions have had
their able advocates; but the weight of argu-
ment seems to preponderate on that side
which ascribes the cromlech to the purposes
[ 298 ]
of religion, and makes them the altars of
Druidical worship, which smoaked with the
blood of human vi6tims.
Plas-Newydd is a magnificent castellated
mansion, altered and enlarged by the present
Earl of Uxbridge, at a prodigious expence.
Commanding a view that ranges over the wind-
ing, pi&uresque strait, on the banks of which
it stands, and having immediately before it the
sublime line of the Snowdon mountains, its
situation is at once beautiful and grand. In
the buildings of the place, convenience has
been as much studied as magnificence; the
baths, communicating with the Menai, are
.sequestered and commodious, and the sheltered
receptacle in which his lordship's little fleet
rides secure from the storm, and from whence
he takes boat, is particularly well contrived.
Here we bade adieu to our obliging con-
ductor, and taking a path through Plas-Newydd
park, soon arrived at the ferry of the same
name, which we crossed in five minutes, the
wind blowing strongly in our favour, and
reached Caernarvon early in the afternoon.
Many reasons had induced us to visit An-
glesey; amongst which, the hope of meeting
with some vestiges of Druidical superstition,
[ 29ST ]
or some remains of original manners in this
distant corner of ancient Britain, had been an
important one. In this respeft, however, we
were disappointed; few, if any, local customs
now exist in Anglesey, and the features of
chara&er which appear most remarkable to a
stranger, attach also to the other counties of
North-Wales.
The history of this place would naturally
divide itself under four heads : antiquities and
mineralogy, produ&s and manners; a few
hints on each of these subjets are all we had
opportunity to colleft.
The antiquities are chiefly Druidical, and
consist of temples ; carnedds, or burial places ;
and cromlechs, or altars. Of the first and se-
cond, we saw no specimens, as they are chiefly
confined to the western division of the island.
I have already described the cromlech at Lord
Ux bridge's, which, with one on a farm called
Trevor, about two miles from Mr. Panton's, are
the finest in Anglesey.
From the British we descend to Roman anti-
quity; but of this we have still fewer vestiges.
All, indeed, may be comprised in the tradition
'that tallies witfr^iistorical relations, of Sueto-
nius Paulinus having passed over his conquering
[ 300 ]
legions into Anglesey partly in boats and partly
by fording the Menai at a place called Portha-
mel, or the spot of frequent passing.* A few
Danish remains, on the eastern shore of the
island, close the list of antiquities in this place.
A great part of Anglesey consists of lime-
stone, amongst which are prodigious quanti-
ties of quortZ', mundic, pyrites, pudding-stone, and a
porous substance, like pummice-stone, (having
every volcanic appearance) are also abundantly
found there. A pleasing effeft arises from the
divisions of the fields being formed of these
micacious substances 5 which, when the sun
shines upon them, exhibit a most glittering
and splendid appearance.
Of the agriculture, we have to regret that
we cannot give a tolerable account. It is a
languid, spiritless, unprofitable system; the
consequences of which are too visible in scanty
crops and a poverty-stricken peasantry. A
dearth of fuel adds to the other inconveniences
of the labouring poor, obliging them to rob
* Igitur Monam insulam incolis validam, et receptaculum
perfagarum aggredi parat, navesque fabricator piano alveo, ad-
versus breve littus et inc'ertum. Sic pedites equites vado secuti
aut altiores inter undas, adnantes equis transmisere. Tacit*
Annul, lib. xiv. c. 39.
C 301 ]
the commons of their shallow staple, which
they pare off without mercy; procuring, by
these means, an incombustible kind of turf,
badly answering the purposes of burning.
Land, which if improved, or tolerably culti-
vated, would let for twenty shillings per acre,
now goes for seven shillings, another proof of
wretched husbandry. To this neglect of til-
lage, however, there are some exceptions, par-
ticularly the extensive property of Mr. Panton,
which is in a state of rapid improvement.
Black cattle are one of the staple produces of
Anglesey. They are large, handsome beasts,
and being exported in great quantities, make
a considerable return to the island. The Earl
of Uxbridge, in his park at Plas-Newydd, has
a fine specimen of this breed in an enormous
black bull, which could not be excelled by any
of his brethren who roam through the rich pas-
tures of Lincolnshire er Leicestershire. Gluts
of herrings sometimes visit the coasts of An-
glesey, are dried, exported, and considered
by the knowing ones in delicacies as particularly-
excellent.
The manners of these islanders, as I before
observed, are simple, and exactly similar to
their brethren of Merioneth and Caernarvon-
[ 302 ]
sliire. Like all other ignorant people, they
are extremely superstitious; and of the powef
of witches, the appearance of ghosts, and the
tricks of fairies, they " hold each strange tale
" devoutly true.' 7 Much singularity is obser-
vable in their funerals, and some curious cir-
cumstances distinguish the North-Wallian
courtships from the mode of making love in South-
Britain,
When a person dies, the friends and relations
of the deceased meet in the room where the
corpse lies, the evening previous to the funeral.
Here the male part of the company are seen
smoaking, drinking, cracking their jokes, and
sometimes indulging themselves with a Welsh
air; whilst the women are kneeling round the
corpse, weeping bitterly, and bewailing, in
terms of " loud lament," the loss they have
experienced. When the body is committed
to the ground, the sexton, after casting the
earth upon it, holds but his spade to the atten-
dant mourners, who, in turn, contribute as
much money as they can conveniently afford,
The sum thus colle&ed is a compliment to the
officiating minister, and intended by the donors
as a bribe to extricate the soul of the deceased
-as quickly as possible out of purgatory. It is
t 303 ]
evidently a remnant of the Roman Catholic
faith, and nothing more than the mass money
which formerly was bestowed in large pro-
portions for the same purpose. On these
occasions the oblations are oftentimes very
considerable; and we are informed by a clergy-
man in Anglesey, that he had more than once
received ten pounds in that way.
From this custom, and certain other perqui-
sites, the curacies of North- Wales afford very
comfortable incomes 3 the character of poverty,
therefore, which attaches to the subaltern
clergy of South- Wales, does not extend to
those of the northern part of the principality.
The stipends, it is true, are in both cases very
trifling; but the arian-rhew, or offering at the
graves just mentioned, (so called from the
money being cast into the spade) and some
other sources of profit, make the amount of
many of the North- Wales curacies above one
hundred pounds a year.
The process of courtship, is to the full as ex-
traordinary, as that observed at funerals. In
America the inhabitants call it bundling a prac-
tice which is supposed to have contributed
( greatly to the rapid increase in population made
by the United States in the course of a few
[ 304 ]
years. The same consequence, it should seem,
ought to arise from the Welsh method of
making love, few marriages being celebrated
amongst the ancient British peasantry, which
are not rendered absolutely necessary by the
previous situation of the female parties.
Much has been said of the beauty of Welsh
music, and without doubt, the melodies of the
country are ravishingly sweet, soft, and pa-
thetic. But it is not amongst the common
people that we are to look for them. The
tunes, if such they may be called, which the
mountaineers chaunt, have nothing to do with
harmony; they are in general dull and mono-
tonous. It is in these, however, that they
recite their Pennylls, or stanzas of old historical
ballads and traditional songs, consisting of
many verses. This they do in parties, singing
alternately; another taking up the song and
giving the following stanza, when his neigh-
bour has concluded the preceding one. The
delicious airs, known by the name of Welsh
airs, and to which Mr. Edward Jones* has
given permanence and stability, by collecting
and publishing them, were floating in a tra-
* " Musical and Poetical Relics of the Welsh Bards."
[ 305 ]
ditional form amongst the harpers of Wales,
seldom committed to notation, and liable con-
sequently to be vitiated and forgotten. Most
of these are of great antiquity, and they all
possess that feeling and pathos, which evince
they were composed by men skilled in the
science of music, and on occasions that warmed
the imagination and interested the heart.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
Traeth-maw
Teth-bch
LETTER XIII.
TO THE SAME.
SarmoutJ), Sept. 3d.
TN consequence of taking a second survey of
* Caernarvon castle, I find reason to correct
the account which I gave you last year, of
this edifice.*
I then remarked, that much of the effecl: of
the ruin was lost by " its being inhabited, and
See Walk through Wales, part i. p. 137.
[ 308 ]
" the littleness of a cottagers domestic oeco-
" nomy appearing within its walls." I have
since discovered I was mistaken in this
respecl; and as it is much more honourable
to acknowledge an error than to persist in
it, I have no hesitation in telling you, there
is no residence within the gate of the castle,
and that my companion and self were led to
suppose it was inhabited, by observing a quan-
tity of clothes drying on the green-sword of its
courts. The red appearance of the walls, also,
was a decejitio visits, occasioned by the deep
ruby tints of a departing sun. Its materials are
lime-stone and grit, which give the building
rather a grey than a red cast.
We bade adieu to Caernarvon early yester-
day morning, and took the r6ad to Llanllyfni,
which skirts the coast, and presents an unin-
terrupted view of the sea, the noble mountains
called the Rivals forming the boundary to the
southward, and the turrets of Caernarvon castle
gradually fading away in the distance behind
us. The bold and rude mountain Kilgwin,
with its dark, steep, and rugged sides, shut up
the scene to the left.
Having breakfasted heartily on tea and wigs
at Llanllyfni, we set out to visit the large slate
[ 309 ]
quarries on this mountain, and the lakes Lyn-
nian Nantlle in its neighbourhood. The former
belong to the Rev. Mr. Hughes, and are ex-
tremely valuable. They are perpendicular ex-
cavations, of different dimensions and depths,
some sinking below the surface of the earth
upwards of one hundred and fifty feet. The
slate is found in strata of greater or less thick-
ness, lying immediately on each other without
any intermediate separating substance; the
lamina running vertically, and divided much in
the same way, (and nearly with similar ease)
as laths are split from logs of oak.
From this elevation we descended to the two
lakes, stretching one behind the other in an
eastern direction. The scenery of these, par-
ticularly of the large one, is exquisitely beauti-
ful. Here the eye ranges over a fine sheet of
water a mile and a half in length, and above half
as much in breadth, surrounded on all sides
with mountains, whose dark slaty heads tower
above it to a sublime height, in shapes most
singular and fantastic, and in appearance most
wild and rude. As they fall, however, to-
wards the lake they drop this savage aspet,
. and before they unite with it, become verdant
slopes, covered with vegetation, ornamented
t 310 ]
with little cottages, and fringed with vari-
ous trees.
Defying the rain, which now fell very copi-
ously, we pursued our route to Pen-morva y a
village eleven miles from Llanllyfni, and found
ourselves in a most comfortable cottage-inn
there at half past four.
The afternoon clearing up we had an oppor-
tunity of rambling round the village, and as*
cending a lofty rocky mountain to the eastward
of it, called Llallth-Gwyn, or the white hill.
From hence an extensive view opens itself,
stretching over the picturesque village of Pen-
morva, (situated at the bottom of a broad vat-
ley, on the estuary called the Traeth-mawr) the
deep bay of Caernarvon, the neighbouring
mountains, and the ocean.
A curious feature in the contiguous scenery
particularly struck us. Pen-morva stands at
the head of a range of meadows, stretching to
the Traeth-mawr, about a mile in length. These
are of one uniform flatness, but studded here
and there with little conical rocky islands,
starting out from the surrounding level to dif-
ferent heights. We considered them as cer
tain indications of this track being a gift, of
the sea", which, at some period very remote,
had receded from it, and allowed vegetation
to clothe the sandy parts of the flat, whilst the
rocky excrescences continued in their original
barren state, to tell the story of their former
relationship with the ocean.
Anxious to reach Barmbuth this evening,
we quitted Pen-morva early in the morning,
crossing the mouth of the Traeth-mawr and
the Traeth-bach in a small leaky skiff, with a
heavy gale of wind. right against us. Across
this pass, however, we were safely rowed by
the man and his wife who keep the ferry 5 the
former a true Gelt in stature and appearance,
the latter exhibiting the remains of a beautiful
person, with the eye of lustre and teeth of
ivory, almost peculiar to her country. Unfor-
tunately we could exchange no communica-
tion with this harmonious couple, as they
scarcely spoke a word of English. Indeed we
have had occasion to remark, that much less
English is spoken on the north-west coast of
Wales than in any other parts* Scarcely a
cottager, woman, or child, whom we have
met for the last three days, has been able to
give us an answer in our own language ; and
.what i.s still more extraordinary, all the women
[ 312 ]
servants at our two last inns were equally
unqualified for colloquial intercourse with us.
Another heavy shower sent us drenched into
the town of Harlech, and obliged us to have
recourse to a bottle of brandy, which we found
here in great perfection. A civil, attentive
creature, John Richards, (the guide to Cwnv
Bychan, the lakes, &c. whom I cannot help
recommending on account of his superior sa-
gacity, as well as civility) offered his services to
conduct us to the castle, and was accepted as
our escort there.
This ruin exhibits another specimen of the
military architecture of the thirteenth century.
Edward I. erected it on the scite of a more
ancient fabric, built by a Welsh prince some
centuries previous to that sera. Though small,
it must have been a very strong fortress, from
the circumstances of its situation 3 being found-
ed on a huge bed of lofty rock, the strata of it
singularly disposed, and forming an angle of
forty-five degrees with the plane of the horizon.
A cascade tumbling from the top of the rock,
on the north-eastern side, gives a very pifctur
resque effect to this rude piece of scenery. The
castle is quadrangular, strengthened at the
corners by large round towers, from the top- of
[ 313 ]
each of which issues an elegant smaller one.
Two circular bastions and three portcullisses
added to the defence of the entrance. Like
all other edifices erected for hostile purposes,
Harlech castle has experienced many tempes-
tuous scenes j the last in which it was engaged
occurred in 1647, when William Owen, with
his garrison of twenty-eight men, surrendered
to the Oliverian forces, after it had seen every
other castle in Wales desert the royal cause.
Every external circumstance induced us to
continue at Harlech; the wind blew an hurri-
cane, the rain fell in torrents, and the evening
was setting in; add to this too, Barmouth lay
at the distance of ten miles from us. But un-
fortunately no beds were to be procured in the
place, and we were reduced to the alternative
of braving the storm, or sleeping on the floor.
Our councils are always short and decisive ;
we quickly resolved to disregard the weather
and proceed to Barmouth. Fortifying our-
selves, therefore, with a little more of the land-
lady's neat Coniac, we sallied forth to meet the
rage of the elements.
The road followed for the most part the un-
dulations of the shore, and continually exhibited
to us- the awful sight of an unbounded ocean,
I 314 ]
maddened by tempest, and wrapped in foam,
To the left the western limb of the mountains
that stretch across Merionethshire, dropping
in rocky precipices and deep hollows to the,
strand, formed an appropriate companion to
the watery element, which, in the nervous lan-
guage of scripture, " raged horribly" on the
opposite quarter,
Amid this impressive scenery, where all was
hugeness and uproar, it was impossible not to
feel the religious principle powerfully within
us. Each object tended to inspire us with
wonder, adoration, and humility; with a full
convi&ion of our own insignificance, and the
omnipotence and immensity of that Being,
" at whose word the stormy wind ariseth,
** which lifteth up the waves of the ocean;"
and who, with equal ease, " maketh the storm
' to cease, so that the waves thereof are still."
" Who weigheth the mountains in a balance,
" and taketh up the sea in the hollow of
" his hand."
This wild and singular road continued quite
to Barmouth, a town equally extraordinary in
appearance, creeping up the rugged side of an
abrupt mountain, which frowns over the sea
at the mouth of the river Mowddach. It i a
[ 315 ]
fashionable bathing-place, admirably calcu-
lated for a summer's excursion, the country
around it being inexhaustible in wonders and
beauties. Part of the town has literally its
foundation on the sand, and is completely over-
looked by the aerial residences of those wiser
architets, who have built their houses on the
rock, which lifts its rugged face to the east-
ward of them.
It would be ungrateful in us not to acknow-
ledge the extreme kindness of the landlady at
our present quarters, the Cors-y-Gidol arms, who
though her house is inconveniently full, re-
ceived us (wet, dirty, and miserable as we
appeared to be) with alacrity, and afforded us
every possible comfort. The waiter and cham-
ber-maid also must not be forgotten. The
former has accommodated two of us with the
contents of his wardrobe; and the latter fur-
nished the rest of our party with petticoats, to
supply the absence of the waiter's inexpressibles,
which the disproportion in size between him
and our other two friends prevented them
from using.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
.
22Ln 8l? * &W
.
Avon
n-H ^ LETTER XIV.
TO THE SAME.
Alerystwitl, Sept. 5tb.
E little town of Barmouth held out so
many charms (for it is at present full of
North- Wallian and Shropshire beauties) that,
had not our period of absence been limited, we
should have remained some days there. No-
thing,- indeed, can exceed the social comfort
in which the visitors at this place pass their
hours. As the great lodging-house belongs to
the Cors-y-Gidolmn, the company generally dine
and sup there every day at a public table.
Here also, once a week, they " foot it featly"
to the inspiring tones of the Welsh harp*
They pass their mornings in riding on the
sands, or exploring the mountains; their even-
ings in walking, dancing, or social intercourse ;
resembling in short one great united family,
where there is a constant endeavour to pro-
mote harmony and reciprocal pleasure.
Before we quitted this enchanting spot yes-
terday morning, we had an opportunity of
hearing the Welsh harp in perfection, the only
time we have met with an excellent player
since we began our expedition; for unfortu-
nately the old bard at Conway, whom C 11
and I heard with such rapture last year, is too
ill to play again.*
The name of the Barmouth harper is Parry,
a young man who, having from the age of seven
studied and practised the instrument, has at-
tained to an uncommon excellence upon it.
You are aware, my dear sir, that the telyn, or
Welsh harp, is very superior to the one com-
* Walk thro' Wales, p. 149. His name is Smith, not Jones.
[ 319 ]
mon in England, having three sets of strings,
the middle set comprising flats and sharps.*
Mr. Parry's management of this powerful and
flexible instrument is, indeed, very surprising;
whether he wishes to sooth by softness, charm
with delicacy, melt with pathos, or rouse with
energy, " the harp, obedient to the master's
" hand," produces irresistibly the desired ef-
fects. Struck by such a finger as this, you will
imagine we heard with no small satisfaction
all the old Welsh popular airs, with variations
adapted to them by the late celebrated Mr.
Parry; but none pleased us so much as the air
called Harlech Castle, wild, simple, and pathetic,
beyond the power of language to describe.
The waning noon obliged us reluctantly to
leave this gratifying entertainment, and take
the road to Dolgelly, a town ten miles distant
from Barmouth.
We had heard much of the beauties of this
walk, and consequently anticipated a great
* The ancient Welsh harp had only one row of strings, and
these were formed of twisted hair. Towards the conclusion of
the ijth century two other sets of strings were added, and gut
was introduced in lieu of hair. Before this improvement the
harper produced flats and sharps by a particular management of
the finger and thumb, a much more difficult, as well as more
imperfect, method than that now practised.
[ 320 ]
deal; but in this instance we found expe&a-
tion had not out-stripped reality.
For the first mile and a half the road winds
along the northern bank of the fiver Avon-vawr,
or Movvddach, each side of which is bounded
by lofty lime-stone mountains; the southern
strongly marked w r ith the rough features of the
parent from which they spring the mighty
Cader-Idris.
Here the stream, for a short time, is lost to
the traveller, the road creeping between the
elevations to the left hand, and a lofty wooded
hill that stands detached from them, and chang-
ing the prospet from the vast and sublime to
a quiet woodland scene. This sort of view,
with occasional peeps at the water, continues
nearly three miles, when we suddenly turn
upon Pont-dduy a stone bridge of one arch, be-
striding a furious torrent, that rushing from a
dark wooded glen forms a most beautiful cas-
cade a few yards above it.
Ere we proceeded a mile further, another
variety in the scenery, of the most striking
kind, occurred. The mountains before us, re-
ceding from the river, are replaced by rich
meadows, through which the stream, widen*-
ing and deepening, flows with silent majesty.
t 821 }
A vast declivity forms the distant scene, diver-
sified with woods and lawns, and rural dwell*
Ings, with a partial view of the little town of
Dolgelly. Behind us are caught the 'differ-
ent reaches and windings of the river, losing
itself at length in the great waste of waters,
together with the shaded hills that confine it
on one side, and the rocky precipices of Cader-
Idris on the other.
We entered Dolgelly by the same road that
C- 11 and I traversed last year, on bur way
to Beddgellert, which conduced us through
Llaneltyd turnpike, where the fair daughter of
Henry Roberts had then regaled us with a sump-
tuous breakfast.*
The hospitality of this little family, consist-
ing at that time of the father, mother, and un-
married daughter, had impressed us with a
gratitude which even a winter at Bath could not
efface 5 We turned, therefore, into the well-
known cottage, and enquired of a woman; who
was sitting there, after the welfare of the sol-
dier, his wife, .and daughter. She informed
us he had removed from this residence several
* Walk through Wales, part i. p. 105.
Y
[ 322 ]
months since, and kept at present another
turnpike in the neighbourhood of Dolgelly.
C 11 and I immediately determined to
take the opportunity of greeting our old host
and companion once more, and quitting our
friends, pursued the road to his dwelling.
We found him, fortunately, at his door, but
ah! how different did he now appear to the
hale, aftive, and sprightly old man, who accom-
panied us last year to the falls of the Mowd-
dach. His eye was languid, his face pale,- and
overspread with a cloud of melancholy. On
seeing us, however, a momentary gleam of
wonted cheerfulness returned, and grasping
our hands, he expressed the warmest pleasure
at this unexpe&ed meeting. As was natural,
we enquired for his wife and daughter. At
the mention of the former a deep blush suf-
fused his countenance, his voice faltered, and
the tear stole silently down his cheek. " Alas !"
said he, " gentlemen, I have lost her. She
" who had been my friend, and my companion,
" for forty years, was taken from me last March.
" I thought the loss would have broken my
" heart j but He who wounds will also bind up.
" It pleased GOD to restore me again to a to-
" lerable share of health, and if not to comfort,
[ 323 ]
" at least to resignation. Life ceases, indeed,
" to have any pleasures for me; and the only
" worldly wish I have is, that my daughter may
" find a protector before I am taken from her.
" Were this wish gratified, I should have no
< further tie to bind me to earth, but would
" gladly lie down in the same grave that now
" holds my faithful Hannah."
We expressed what we felt^-a real concern
at his misfortune; which drew from the good
old man a farewell benediftion, delivered with
such fervour and affeftion as interested our
feelings as deeply as his own appeared to
be moved.
Quitting the cottage of Roberts, we strolled
slowly to the Golden-Lion inn, where our
friends had secured very comfortable accommo-
dations, and bespoken some of Mr. Williams's
excellent mountain mutton.
At six o'clock this morning we were on our
march, following the road to Towyn, which
skirts the northern roots of Cader-Idris. The
wild precipices of this gigantic mountain on
the one hand, and the craggy tops of inferior
elevations on the other, were the only features
of our view for some miles, when the road be-
came still more uninteresting, pursuing the
[ 824 ]
landulations of boggy mountains, without a
trace of inhabitant or cultivation.
Situated close upon the shore, Towyn* has*
nothing to recommend it but a bold unbound-
ed view of the ocean, with a fine level hard
sand, well calculated for sea-bathing.
We did not continue long in the town, as it
happens to be a race-week there,, and the motley
crew assembled to partake of these annual
sports seemed to eye us with no very friendly
glances. We could not but observe with re-
gret, the consequences of this unnatural intro-
duction of an amusement (the twin-brother of
profligacy and licentiousness) into a place
which nature seemed to have consecrated to
quiet and retirement, to simplicity and peace.
Instead of that appearance of industry and
decency which characterise a sequestered
country village, all was idleness and noise.
Every proper avocation seemed to be forgotten.
Collected together in little groups, the inhabi-
tants were squabbling over the result of the
last afternoon's race, or making bets for the
match of the approaching evening; whilst
Others, less deep in the business of the tuff, but
* Towyn, i. e. the strand; its populatioa about five hundred*
[ 325 ]
^bitten by the genius of idleness that hovered
over the village, were drowning .their faculties
in copious potations of -cwrr.Wy -or, like the Cen-
taurs and Lapithae of old, were bruising over
the inflaming goblets they had drained,
We quitted this scene, in which rustic
simplicity and fashionable profligacy were
united by an heterogenous combination, with
the conviction, that there is no better, more
speedy, or efficacious mode of corrupting the
rural character of a country village, and con-
verting simplicity and industry into dishonesty
and idleness, than the institution of an annual
race-week.
Our route led us close to the sea-side, over,
an hard sand for four miles, when we passed
the ferry at Aber-Dyfi, a small sea-port, em-
ploying about thirty ships, and containing
five hundred inhabitants.
Still we continued to tread the shore, grati-
fied with the sight of a troubled ocean, which
broke with dreadful fury over the dark cliffs
that form the southern shore of Caernarvon bay.
We reached at length the village of Forth,
when the stupendous view we had so long
contemplated, deserted us, the road winding
up an ascent with an elevation on each side.
[ 326 ]
Little beauty of country now occurred, the
scenery being totally bare of wood, and scanty
in population. We were glad, therefore, to
terminate a walk that became fatiguing for
want of interest, and entered our old quarters
at Aberystwith as the clock told eight.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
Aberystwith
Tyvi River
LETTER XV.
TO THE SAME.
Cardigan, Sept. Jib.
TTTTERE I a judicial astrologer, I should
entertain no doubt of our having com-
menced the expedition we are engaged in, un-
der the influence of some very benign and most
propitious planet, since ordinary causes are
scarcely sufficient to account for the many in-
stances of good fortune we 'have experienced
during it. The events of to-day lead me to.
this observation.
After haying refitted our wardrobe at Aber-
ystwith, (for it was absolutely necessary to call;
in the assistance of the taylor) we took the road
yesterday noon that leads to Cardigan, intend-,
ing to divide the distance (thirty-eight miles)
into two days' journies.
For the last seventy or eighty miles along
the western coast of Wales, we have had occa r
sion to remark that the population is more
scanty, and the appearance of poverty more
general, than in any other part of the princi-
pality. The latter phoenomenon is easily ac-.
counted for. All the villages are nothing more
than colonies of fishermen, who live on the.
irregular profits of their precarious profession.
Those whose gains are uncertain, are seldom
characterised by habits of ceconomy. The
pinching want of. the last day impels to unre-
strained indulgence on the next, if success in.
their employment have given the power of gra-
tifying it; and the hope of equal good fortune
on the morrow precludes the necessity of lay-
ing up any part for the wants of the future.
These villagers speak but little English, and,
unlike their countrymen, are not only dull and
E $29 }
tieavy, but exhibit none of that civility of man-,
ners and kindness of heart which render the.
Welsh character ia generable so. estimable.
An excellent, little inn, at the village of Aber-
aron afforded us admirable accommodation-,
last night. We left it. early this morning in
search of Kilgarran castle, to. which (thanks to,
sober recollection) we were now in the right
direction. An. occasional allusion to our for--
mer wild-goose chace was fair, enough; nor
could the antiquary, after having led his comr.
panions so egregiously astray before, feel indig'.
nant at the many significant enquiries which they,
now made after the object, of their march.
A dull, unvaried country, consisting chiefly
pf recent inclosures, but completely barren of
wood, presented itself for fourteen or. fifteen^
miles, when we found ourselves at the village,
of Blaneporth, Following the directions of our
last host, we here quitted the Cardigan road,
and turned on the left towards Kilgarran,
through a broad valley extremely beautiful,,
watered by the river Ty vi,
The little village of Lluryd was now be-,
fpre us, very, picturesque in situation, enli-
vened by the immense works and numerous,
workmen of Sir Benjamin. Hammer., busied in.
[ 330 ]
the manufacture of tin-plates. These works
find employment for two hundred men.
We had already seen a similar manufactory
in Cwn-Neath, but as we understood the one
before us was considerably more extensive
than the other, and singularly complete, curio-
sity naturally prompted us to inspeft it. For-
tunately, Mr. Hammet (the second son of Sir
Benjamin) happened to be at the works at the
time, and (though we were strangers to him)
not only accompanied us through them, arid
explained the various processes they exhibit,
but very politely introduced us to his father;
who, with an hospitality we can never forget,
invited us to partake of an excellent 1 dinner,
to which his family were just going to sit down.
We attended Sir Benjamin to his house, Cast/e-
Malkwn, a commodious mansion, in the imme-
diate neighbourhood of the works, where we
found munificence, liberality, and good-hu-
mour ; the charms of beauty, and the attrac-
tions of female accomplishment.
Much has been done by Sir Benjamin, and
done with judgment, in forming the pleasure-
grounds round Castle-Malkwn, but owing to
the more important calls on his attention which
the manufa&ory produced, they are not as yet
[ 331 ]
in a perfect state. A very beautiful feature of
them is the little romantic walk, called the
glen, formed at the foot of a steep rock, shaded
by over-hanging wood, and pursuing the wind-
ings of a murmuring brook, shut in on the op-
posite side by a lofty bank, covered with trees.
This is already nearly complete; but when
entirely so, will receive additional interest from
a projeted cascade, which is intended to make
a fall of sixty feet.
Having once more passed through the works
with Mr. Hammet, and seen the various stu-
pendous operations carried on there, (the ef-
fect of which was prodigiously increased by
the darkness of the night) we took the road to
Cardigan. Our kind companion, however,
would not quit us till we had nearly reached
the town, and promised to call at Castle-Mal-
kwyn on the following day.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
Tertby
LETTER XVI,
TO THE SAME,
Tenfy, Sept, Mb..
T If 7E employed the morning of the 9th in
surveying the banks of the river Tyvf
from Cardigan to Castle-Malkwn, a walk of
unrivalled beauty and variety.
Unable to unravel the intricacies of the wa^F
ourselves, we had recourse to the mistress of
our inn for a guide, who put us under the dj-~
[ 334 ]
reftion of a young man belonging to the volun-
teer corps of the town. The company to
which he belonged having been exercising that
morning, the youth was still clad in his uni-
form; and as he carried a gun that Mr. H t
had lent C. C 11 on the preceding day,
he had every appearance of being yet on duty.
Accompanied by our guide, who marched
before us with the fowling-piece thrown over
his shoulder, we set off from Cardigan, but
had scarcely reached the out-skirts of the town,
before we found ourselves almost surrounded
by a troop of women and boys, who followed
us with huzzas and halloos, shouting as loudly
as they could roar, " French prisoners ! French
"prisoners!" an idea naturally enough sug-
gested to them by. the order of our march, our
thread-bare appearance, and the news that had
arrived on the preceding day of the French
troops in Ireland having surrendered to Lord
Cornwallis.
We thought that fancy had already exhaust-
ed herself in forming imaginary characters for
us, and never apprehended we should have to
add to the respeftable list, (which comprised
footpads, gaol-birds, militia-men, and acquitted
felons) the reputation of being Sans Culottes.
[ 335 ]
following our military guide, we proceeded
along the carriage-road for a mile and half,
keeping the river in view on our right hand,
which preserves a quiet winding course thro'
fiat and fertile meadows.
At. this point the .town of Cardigan forms a
most pleasing objeft, standing upon a gentle
eminence, in the centre of a broad valley, and
surrounded with hills which rise gradually
from it on all sides. Here, also, the Tyvi as-
sumes a bolder character. Its right or southern
bank becomes abrupt and craggy, the slate-
rock lifting his beetling brow over the river at
its foot. On the north, another bank suddenly
shoots up to a great height, presenting a steep
declivity completely covered with fine young
timber from the summit to the bottom. This
scenery accompanies the first reach of the ri-
ver, a distance of three or four hundred yards.
The Tyvi now makes a fine sweep to the
north, and forms a meandering current not un-
like a Roman S, its lofty banks falling back
and preserving a rectilinear parallel direction,
while the intervals between their bottoms and
the stream are filled up with luxuriant mea- ^
dows. This I would call the second reach.
[ 336 ]
Hitherto we had pursued our route oh the
'summit of the northern bank, and had only a
bird's-eye prospect of the scenery; we now,
however, descended by a steep path through
the wood to the side of the river, and followed
a foot-way that led us quite to the works of
Sir Benjamin Hammer. From the spot where
we first joined this road the view down the river
is exquisitely fine; the eye catching at one
glance all the undulations of its lofty banks,
sometimes retiring into deep semicircular
sweeps., at others pushing forwards into bold
points, or elegant convexities.
The third reach of the river shortly after oc-
curred, equally interesting with, though some-
what different from, the others. As heretofore,
the banks continue Wooded and steep, exhi-
biting those foldings and involutions which I
have just described; but in addition to this
general effeft, a very particular beauty arises
from the following little circumstance :--A
stately tower, part of the ruined castle of Kil-
garrah, finely broken, and mantled with ivy, is
seen bursting through the dark mass of shade
that crowns the summit of the hill, whicE
Forms the back ground in this august picture.
Never was a finer subjecl for the pencil of
[ 337 ]
taste. The scene, though confined, displays
so much variety, and such an happy combina-
tion of beauties, both natural and artificial, as
the artist would in vain seek for in any other
spot.
The road now descended quite to the mar-
gin of the stream, and invited us, nothing
loth, (for it was extremely hot) to pick our way
through the wood's pleasing shade. This we
did without difficulty, as the river occasionally
seen through the trees, pointed out the direction
we were to pursue. Another quarter of an
hour brought us opposite to the august ruins
of Kilgarran castle: a fortress proudly seated
on the top of a craggy eminence, inaccessible
on ever side but the south; precipitous, rude,
and rocky, harmonizing finely with the dilar
pidated remains which load its summit.
Here again another transition takes place in
the scenery, made more pleasing by the magic
of contrast. A soft and quiet picture occurs;
the banks lose their harsh features, we enter a
little meadow embosomed in wood, and orna-
mented with a neat cottage, naturally exciting
the ideas of rural simplicity and peaceful re-
tirement.
[ 338 ]
We did not, however, long indulge these
pleasing fancies. To this still, fairy region, a
very different scene succeeded the immense
works of Sir Benjamin Hammet, where all is
bustle, noise, and business.
The weight of our obligations to Sir Benjamin
Hammet's family was increased by fresh civi*
lities, which we received at Castle-Malkwn af-
ter our walk. Having spent a very pleasant
hour there we left it reluctantly, accom-
panied by Mr. Hammet, (who kindly offered
to be our ciceroni to Kilgarran castle) and took
the opposite side of the river to that we had
before traversed, catching by these means all
the grand and lovely scenery of the northern
bank.
We soon reached Kilgarran castle, and
ascended to the top of its highest ruined tower,
which commands a full and delightful view of
the Tyvi, its windings, rocks, woods, and mag-
nificent banks. With respet to the ruin,
however, we had anticipated too much. Fancy,
consistently with her usual delusions, had pre-
sented a picture to our imaginations, the colours
of. which greatly surpassed the sober tints of
reality. Here was nothing that excited the
idea of ancient royal reyelry, the splendour of
[ 359 ]
" stately feasting," the " thousand tapers,"
and the croud of " gifted bards," mentioned
by the poet;* the fortress, though strong, is
very small, and seems rather to have been built
for hostile purposes, than intended for the proud
and magnificent theatre of baronial hospitality.
The most ancient part of the castle owes its
origin to Roger Montgomery, a companion of
William the Conqueror, to whom great de-
mesnes in these parts were granted ; but much
of it is evidently of later date, and was probably
built by the Earl of Pembroke in the beginning
of the thirteenth century. Here we parted with
Mr. Hammet, deeply sensible of our obliga-
tions to him, and passed through the village of
Kilgarran, which offers nothing remarkable,
save the little mansion of the curate, a cottage
so completely hooded with ivy as to exhibit
the appearance of a dwarfish countenance
peeping from under a gigantic wig.
Our objel was Eglwyswrw, a small village
in Pembrokeshire, about six miles from Kil-
garran, where we had already bespoken ac-
commodations for the night. The road to this
place carried us through a rich country, which,
* See Warton's fine ode intitkd, The Grave of King Arthur.*
[ 340 ]
unlike any thing we had hitherto seen in
Wales, (excepting in the vale of Clwyd) exhi-
bited a general system of good husbandry.
We observed with much satisfaction the ad-
mirable effefts of this system in the appearance
of the lands, and the heaviness of the crops ;
but were still more gratified by the comfort
and decency visible amongst the little farmers
and labouring poor.
Perhaps throughout the whole British em-
pire, there is no spot where the peasantry ex-
hibit more happiness than in the northern parts
of Pembrokeshire. Their families, on an aver-
age, consist of five people, provided for in the
following manner:
. The father is generally employed through
the whole year by the same farmer, who allows
him during the eight summer-months four-
pence per day, and for the remaining four
months three-pence per day. He t eats how-
ever his meals, breakfast, dinner, and supper,
at the farmer's, and is usually allowed beside
a jug of skimmed milk. The mother em-
ploys all the time not dedicated to domestic
labours in knitting, or more commonly ia ma-
king pieces of flannel, to be disposed of at
some of the neighbouring fairs, of which there
are several annual ones in every Welsh town ;
out of the profits of this, the rent of the cot-
tage is usually paid. No increase of wages to
the labourer takes place in general, at harvest,
as he expects to be recompensed in another
way. But this is optional on his part; and if
he choose money, the farmer gives him eight-
pence per day during that season. If not, he is
paid by what the people in this country call
an higgling, a practice of the following singular
nature: At Christmas, the farmer pays off
any little debt which his labourer may have
contracted at the miller's, and presents him
with three large coarse loaves, and two large
wheaten loaves, (each about two gallons) to-
gether with a quarter of good mutton. Thus
assisted, the Pembrokeshire peasant partakes,
in some little degree, of those gifts of a bounti-
ful Providence, which the higher classes of so-
ciety in other countries monopolize entirely to
themselves. He sees himself brought to some-
thing like a rational level with his fellow-crea-
tures, perceives that he has a stake in society,
and feels that the practice of certain duties re,
suits from this situation; all which convictions
operate upon him as powerful motives to de-
cency and integrity, to cheerfulness and content.
[ 342 ]
The cottages of this part of Pembrokeshire
generally lett at fifteen or eighteen shillings per
annum each, having a small plot of ground at-
tached to them, which enables the tenant com-
monly to keep a pig, and very often a cow.
Think not, my dear sir, that I have painted
a pi6ture of imaginary comfort in the above de-
scription. Alual observation proved to us the
comparative happiness of the Pembrokeshire
peasantry; and our opinions on the subjeft
were further strengthened by the information
of Mr. Watkins, who keeps the inn at Eglwy-
svvrw, himself a great farmer, as well as a most
respectable, intelligent, and benevolent man.
Of this sequestered village, situated in a
broad and fertile valley, and shut out from the
surrounding world by a girdle of mountains,
nearly encircling it, we took an unwilling leave
on the 1 3th, and pushed on to Narberth. The
day was miserably wet, and the country through
which we passed in unison with it rude,
rocky, and barren.
Our first effort brought us to the summit of
Presele mountain, a long, but not steep ascent,
the face of which exhibits the most singular
and curious appearances; masses of rock stag-
ing out of the ground, in fantastic shapes and
[ 343 ]
uncommon groupes, easily mistaken, at a little
distance, for the immense remains of architec-
tural prodigies. Here we found a fine crom-
lech, consisting of three upright stones, and a
super-incumbent one of enormous magnitude.*
This, however, was but a small remnant of
Druidical worship, compared with the temple
which occurred in a field on our right hand, at
the point where we entered the Narberth turn-
pike-road. It consists of several upright stones,
surrounding a circular area, (somewhat de-
pressed) twenty-four yards in diameter. In
the centre of this, and within the memory of
man, stood an altar, formed of three stones,
which a neighbouring farmer carried away in
order to hang his gates upon them. No doubt
can arise of its having been a Druidical temple,
or, in the language of the poet,
" A mighty pile of magic-planted rock,
" Where but at times of holiest festival
" The Druid led his train."
About four hundred yards to the left of the
road, and nearly in a right line with the temple,
stands another immense oblong stone, placed
* The name of this cromlech is Llach-y-Flaiddast, the great
stone of the female nuolf; one amongst numberless other propfs
of these noxious animals having anciently infested Wales.
[ 344 ]
upright in the ground, called Maen-y-Guir,
and connected, probably, with the last-men-
tioned remain of antiquity.
We were now in the country of the Flemings,
and as we approached Narberth, the manners,
dress, and language of the inhabitants, entirely
distinft from those of the neighbouring Welsh,
evinced their different origin.
History, you are aware, tells us, that in the
reign of Henry I. a dreadful inundation hap-
pening in the Low Countries, crouds of the
ruined families came to England, and by their
powerful connection at that court obtained
of the king a grant of the greatest part of
Pembrokeshire.*
Henry seems, indeed, to have been fully as-
much influenced by policy in this donation as by
generosity; for the incursions of the neighbour-
ing Welsh into his own territories were so fre-
quent and destructive, that it became absolutely
necessary to provide some check to their de-
vastations. The presence of the Flemings, he
conceived, a bold and resolute people, would
produce this effect ; nor, indeed, was he de-
ceived i for, from the moment of their settling
* Malmsbury, fol. 89. n. ao, et infra. Flor. Wig. fol. 656.
[ 345 ]
i
in Pembrokeshire for some centuries, their
dissimilarity from the Welsh produced such per-
petual broils between the two people, as kept
the attention of the latter continually engaged.
Traces of this antipathy may still be disco-
vered. The descendants of the Flemings and
their neighbours are as yet, and likely long to
continue, distinft people; since little cordiality
subsists between them, intermarriages seldom
take place amongst them, and each detests
the language of the other.
The Flemish figure and countenance are suf-
ficiently obvious in the neighbourhood of Nar-
berth, as well as the dress and names of the
Low Countries. A jacket of brown cloth,
with long skirts, and made to set close to the
body over a blue or striped petticoat, and a
shallow beaver hat, distinguish the women of
this part from their neighbours ; whilst a broad
English dialect, somewhat like the Somerset-
shire, sprinkled with German words, led us to
suppose we were suddenly transported to the
southern side of the Severn.
The transition from the Welsh to the Fle-
mish is indeed immediate, and nothing can be
more singular than the unexpected change in
manners, dress, person, and language, occa-
[ 346 ]
sioned by it. An instance of this occurred in
our walk from Eglwyswrw to Narberth.
About four miles from the last-mentioned
town, we addressed a peasant for directions as
to the road, and finding he did not understand
English, repeated our question in Welsh, to
which we received an immediate answer. We
proceeded three miles further, and made the
same enquiry in Welsh of two or three inha-
bitants of the small village through which we
were passing, when, to our astonishment, we
understood they spoke no other language than
English.
Our reception at Narberth was not such as
induced us to remain longer than was suffici-
ent to recruit ourselves, after a dirty walk and
a complete drenching. We gladly, therefore,
turned our backs upon it early yesterday morn-
ing, and proceeded towards Tenby, through a
country pleasant, but not striking; peopled by
the descendants of the Flemish settlers.
After an agreeable walk of four hours, the
dilapidated turrets of Tenby rose before us a
town singularly odd in situation and appear-
ance. Built literally upon a rock, it overlooks
the western extremity of Caermarthen bay,
comfnandin-g a noble view of this sweeping
[ 347 ]
shore and its eastern termination, the range of
dark rocks called the Worms. At a small dis-
tance to the right, the little island of Caldy,
rising out of the ocean and stretching two miles
in length, defends Tenby from the rage of the
south-western blast. A convenient harbour is
formed by two piers, which shoot into a corner
of the bay under the shelter of the rocks, and
nearly encircle a small but safe spot for the
anchorage of vessels.
This town, extremely strong from its natural
situation, was further defended by stupendous
fortifications, of which considerable remains
are still to be seen. These, flanked with towers
and bastions, surrounded it on every side, ex-
cept where nature had made the exertions of
art useless by perpendicular cliffs, and inac-
cessible rocks. They seem to have been ereled
about the i3th century, and when complete
would render Tenby impregnable to any efforts
that the military tactics of that age could
make against it. We are forbidden, indeed,
to allow a higher antiquity to the ruins of
Tenby by historical records, which inform us
that the town had been taken from the Fle-
mings, burned, and razed to the ground by the
Welsh, in the year n88.
[ 348 ]
Directing our steps to the White-Lion,' an
admirable inn, seated on the rocky cliff that
overlooks the bay, and commanding a magni-
ficent and diversified prospect, we deposited
our packs, ordered dinner, and rambled to the
rocks and cliffs of the shore, where we spent
two or three hours- Nothing can exceed the
grandeur and beauty of these precipices. They
consist of a dark-coloured lime-stone, profusely
covered with shrubs of various kinds, thorns,
furze, and fern; and worn into the most sin-
gular excavations by the action of the water,
which, when the tide is up, lashes their sides
with ceaseless fury. A whimsical arrange-
ment >of strata in these rocks adds much
to their curiosity. In some places they are ob-
Jique, forming different angles with the plane
of the horizon ; in others horizontal; and in
the island Caldy completely vertical, for two
miles together. This disposition of the strata
produces one very fine effect in a small rock
called St. Catharine's, contiguous to the town,
which may be approached at low water. Here
the strata are nearly perpendicular, and thro*
them the waves, by constant efforts, have
formed an immense perforation, similar to 3
Gothic arch, 30 or 40 feet in height, beautifully
[ 349 ]
embossed with masses of muscles, periwinkles,
and other marine animals, and fretted by the
water into numberless excavations. This
honeycomb character of the rqck, indeed, con-
tinues through the whole extent of Caermar-
then bay, but increases to great sublimity at
Laugharne, about fourteen miles to the east-
ward of Tenby, where many curious caverns
occur amongst the rocks, of magestic height
and unknown extent.*
The retiring tide exposed a fine hard beeeh,
where are bathing-machines for the accommo-
dation of the company who visit this delight-
ful spot in the summer months.
On our return to the White-Lion, we looked
into the church a large, handsome, and an-
cient edifice; the western door of which exhi-
bits a curious mixture of the Gothic and Sara-
cenic styles. It is one of the largest in the
principality, consisting of three broad aisles
nearly of the same dimensions, except that the
middle one is rather higher than the lateral
aisles, and prolonged beyond them. A carved
* The large oysters, called Tenby oysters, are taken in the
bay of Caermarthen, three or four miles from the shore. Slope
coal is found also in great quantities in the neighbourhood of
the town.
[ 350 ]
ceiling, formed of wood, ornamented at the
interseftion of the ribs with various armorial
bearings, and supported by human figures,
springing from pillars of wood, is a remark-
able singularity in this edifice. There are se-
veral fine old monuments, particularly two of
gypsum, their sides highly ornamented with
good basso-relievos. We were requested to ob-
serve another, at the western end of the south
aisle, ereted to the memory of John Moore,
esq; in 1639, who, at the age of fifty-eight,
with sixteen children, fell desperately in love,
and perceiving that his passion was unreturned,
pined himself into a consumption at Tenby.
The monument bears this inscription, allusive
to his hapless fate:
* He that from home for love was hither brought,
' Is now brought home ; this GOD for him hath wrought.'
Two other epitaphs pleased us much ; one to
the memory of Jane Griffith, wife of Thomas
Griffith, of Tenby, mariner.
' When faithful friends descend into the dust,
' Grief's but a debt, and sorrows are but just.
' Such cause had he to weep, who freely pays
' This last sad tribute of his love and praise;
' Who mourns the best of wives and friends combin'd,
' Where with affe&ion, diligence was joined
' Mourns, but not murmurs ; sighs, but not despairs ;
' Feels as a Man, but as a Christian bears.'
[ 351 -]
Another to the memory of Elizabeth Prosser,
' Rest, gentle lamb ! to wait th' Almighty's will,
' Then rise unchang'd, and be an angel still.'
I know not whether they be original or not;
but the concluding sentiment of the first, and
the neat point of the second, rendered them,
we thought, worth copying. .
The charms of this place have already de-
tained us here two days longer than we in-
tended to remain, nor should we quit our ex-
cellent quarters at the White-Lion, if hard
necessity did not compel us to be in Bath by
the i6th instant.
Your's, &c.
R. W.
LETTER XVII.
TO THE SAME.
Swansea, Sept. \5tb.
"VTOU are at length released, my dear sir,
* from a correspondent whoj notwithstand-
ing his endeavours to the contrary, has, I fear,
been too often dull, tedious, and uninteresting.
If such have been the case, congratulate your-
self that the vessel which is to conclude our
A A
[ 354 ]
expedition, by conveying us to Bristol, even,
now hoists her sails, and weighs her anchor.
" Vocat jam carbasus auras,
" Puppibus et laeti pautae imposuere coronas."
The comparative tameness, indeed, of the
country through which we have been some
days journeying, lessens the enthusiasm of the
\vriter, and diminishes proportionally the plea-
sure of the reader. All that interested the
imagination, or awakened the fancy, the cloud-
capt mountain, the roaring torrent, and the
tumbling cataracl, we have bade a long
farewell to, and quitted the grand and impres-
sive beauties of nature, for the uninspiring lit-
tlenesses of art.
We took the advantage of a glorious morn-
ing on the 1 3th, arid walked on to Tavern-spite
and St. Clare, about fifteen miles, chiefly by a
foot-path, which skirted the coast, and pre-
sented a fine view of Caei*marthen bay, gra-
dually tranquillizing itself from the effecls of
a violent gale of wind. At this point the
country begins to assume a pleasing character,
diversified by broad valleys and swelling hills;
increasing in richness and beauty, till we
reached Caermarthen, a town embracing every
advantage of situation.
[ 355 ]
On entering this place, the sign of the Boar's*
Head attracted our attention; and by that kind
of fascination which is frequently found to be
attached to names, led us mechanically into the
door over which it hung. The garrulous cour-
tesy of a female attendant immediately im-
pressed the ideas of East-cheap and Dame
Quickly, while the portly presence of J. n,
and the queer figures of the rest of the party,
reminded us of the march of the facetious Jack
Falstaff and his ragged recruits.
The town of Caermarthen boasts a very high
antiquity, connected with classical history, as
well as British superstition. Here the Romans
had a station, called MariduHum; and here the
great prophet, or necromancer of Cambria, yclept
Merlin, first drew his breath. A circumstance
of sufficient importance to impose a name on
the place, which was afterwards called Caer-
Merddin, or the city of Merlin. One of his pre-
dictions is yet floating in a traditional form
amongst the inhabitants here, denouncing de-
struction on his favourite city, but connecting
the event with such circumstances as cannot
take place till the reign of magic be again re-
stored ; it is, that Caermarthen shall be de-
stroyed by an earthquake, and the place it
[ 556 ]
Stands on be converted into a vast lake, when
a bull shall walk to the top of the church.
Caermarthen, being a favourite residence of
the princes of South- Wales, was originally very
strong, surrounded with walls, and fortified
with a castle, part of which remains, and is
used as a gaol. The present state of the town
is most respetable, both in appearance and
trade. A number of extremely well-built
houses, and genteel independent families, put
it upon a level with some of our best English
towns ; and the opulence of a numerous body
of merchants proves the commercial advantages
it enjoys. Situated upon the river Towy,
which is navigable to Caermarthen for ships of
two hundred and fifty tons burthen, and not
more than ten miles from the sea, it commands
a trade of considerable importance. Its ex-
portations are chiefly as follow: Prodigious
quantities of oats and butter to Bristol, Lon-
don, &c.; of stone-coal to Norfolk, Dorsetshire,
&c.; of bark to Ireland; and of oak-timber to
the different dock-yards of the kingdom. Its
imports fruits, &x. from Lisbon -, bale-goods
and hardware from British ports;" and timber,
&c. from Russia and Norway. Iron-works,
tin-works, and a lead-mine in the neighbour-
[ 357 ]
hood of Caermarthen, contribute further to its
wealth, and swell its importance. With these
advantages, however, it has unfortunately no
internal manufactures to employ the poor of
the place; and what is still worse, no institu-
tions to improve their morals, and give them a
knowledge of their civil and religious duties.
The fatal consequences of a neglect so unwar-
rantable you must anticipate; idleness and pro-
fligacy in this unfortunate class of society, and
enormous expences on those who contribute
to their support. This year, I am informed,
the poor-rates will amount to eighteen shillings
in the pound. Would the respeclable inhabi-
tants of the town co-operate in their endeavours
to correct these evils, they would not only
quickly remove that odium which justly at-
taches to the plan at present, from the WTetched
state of the poor there, but lessen immediately
the burthen of their poor-rates, now rapidly
increasing to intolerable magnitude. Caer-
marthen* contains between seven and eight
thousand inhabitants.
* Is a corporate town, governed by a mayor, aldermen,
recorder, town-clerk, &c. its charter nearly similar to that of the
city of London, the corporation officers being elecled annually
at Michaelmas.
w
[ 358 ]
.'The church is a good substantial building,
lately ornamented with a fine-toned organ.
Amongst many old monuments, the most re-
markable one is that ere&ed to the memory of
Sir Rhys ap Thomas, (ancestor to the present
Lcrd Dynevor) who favoured Henry VII. in
his landing at Milford, joined his forces, and
fought for him at Bos worth field ; his immense
estates were afterwards confiscated by Henry
VIII. A plain stone covers the remains of
Sir Richard Steele, whose person and charac-
ter are'.,yt in the recollection of many old
peopl^'in the town and neighbourhood. He
died iry Ins own house, since converted into an
inn, Called the Ivy-Bush, and is represented as
having degenerated into idiocy previous to his
decease; another affecting example of the
evanescence of human intellect, of the vanity
of all mortal acquirements!
e tear of dotage from great Marlborough flow,
d Sw'fft expires a driv'ller and a show."
Plays -.were his chief amusements to the last,
and the productions of his own pen his favourite
performances. In the waywardness of men-
tal imbecility, however, he would frequently
scold the players for imaginary faults, and af-
[ 359 ]
feel to instruct them both in a&ion and recita-
tion. It is a reflexion on the taste of Caer-
marthen, that no monument is erected to the
memory of the author of the Conscious Lovers.
In proportion as we approach home, our
solicitude to reach it increases. Not suffici-
ently refined to disclaim, or sufficiently philoso-
phized to overcome, the best feelings of our
hearts, the " Limen (mobile, matris et o^ula"
nave yet charms for us, the long absence of
which even novelty cannot recompense, nor
variety supply.* This must be our excuse lor
hurrying from Caermarthen on the i4th, be
fore we had leisurely examined the town and
its neighbourhood.
Our walk to Swansea was divided into two
stages, by breakfasting at Llannon, a small
village thirteen miles from Caermarthen. The
character of the country through the whole dis-
* L'Onda dal mar divlsa
Bagna la valla e il raonte,
Va passagiera in fiume
Va prigioniera in fonte ;
Mormora sempre e geme
Fin che non torna al mar.
Al mar drove ella nacque
Dove acquisto' gli umori
Dove da lunghi errorj
Spera di reposar. METASTASIO.
[ 360 ]
tance is pleasing, though not grand ; varied
by swelling hills and extensive vallies. Within
two miles of Swansea, however, the scenery
increases in magnificence, the vale of Towy
(called Cwm-Tawe) unfolding itself, and dis-
playing a rich assemblage of mountains and
rivers, woods and villages. Much animation
is given to this beautiful valley, by the very
considerable manufactories of copper, brass,
tin-plate, speltry, and iron, erected and worked
on the banks of the river, and by the naviga-
tion of a canal, nearly completed, running
seventeen miles up Cwm-Tawe. The uni-
form ranges of houses where the workmen re-
side, neatly white-washed, built on the declivity
of the eastern mountains, and a very singular
square castellated mansion erefted for the
same purposes on the opposite elevations, and
accommodating twenty-four families, add to
the variety and singularity of the prospe6t.
Swansea being a fashionable bathing-place,
we judged it necessary to make as smart an
appearance there as the situation of our ward-
robes, and the state of our finances, wDuld al-
low; having therefore brushed up at a small
village, about a mile from the town, and hired
a lad to carry our knapsacks, we boldly pro-
[ 361 ]
ceeded to the Mackworth-Arms, the best inn
in the place. Pride, however, generally
punishes itself; and fortune, who had always
hitherto rewarded our ebullitions of vanity
with shame and confusion of face, determined
not to lose this last opportunity of exerting
her malignity. While we were hastening to
the inn, affecting that stare of conscious im-
portance which a seat in a phaeton and four
will hardly authorize, a cry from behind at-
tra&ed our attention. Looking round, we be-<
held our poor page prostrate in the gutter, the
packs rolling away from him in different di-
rections, and mine, which was stuffed beyond
its capability of extension, burst from top to
bottom, discharging its heterogeneous con-
tents over the pavement, and converting the
street into a second rag-fair. I verily believe
the smiles of some smart girls, who were ta-
king their afternoon promenade, and the un-
restrained mirth of half a dozen sailors, would
have put our party to flight, had not J : n,
whose practical /ihilosoflhy is equal to his invin-
cible good-humour, persuaded us to collect to-
gether the different articles, by observing, that
it was much better to suffer the transient or-
deal of a little ridicule, and endure the evajiora-
tion of a little sell-importance, than run the
risque of losing the contents of the knapsack.
Common-sense seconded his remark, and in a
few minutes we had secured our property, and
were safely lodged in the Mackworth-Anns.
The whole of this day has been employed
in surveying Swansea, and ascertaining some
facls relative to its trade and population. Situ-
ated at the mouth of the Tawe, (and thence
called Aber-tawe in Welsh) in the centre of a
deep and secure bay, it possesses such impor-
tant advantages as have rendered it the most
considerable sea-port in the principality. Lofty
hills defend it on the north-east and north-west,
the Bristol Channel spreads itself in front,
bounded by the high cliffs of Somersetshire,
and the rich, beautiful, and diversified coast of
Glamorganshire shuts it in to the right and left.
The town is large and well-built, containing
a population (rapidly increasing) of nearly seven
thousand; the houses chiefly modern, hand-
some, and commodious. Two extensive brew,
cries, a pottery upon Mr. Wedgwood's plan,
an iron foundery, two roperies, a fine dry dock,
and much ship-building, supply occupation
for a great number of workmen. Its trade -
chiefly consists in the exportation of stone-
[ 363 ]
coal, culm, iron-ore, and lime-stone, all found
on the banks of the Tawe, and brought to
Swansea by the canal. Of the first of these
articles, about one hundred thousand chaldrons
(thirty-six bushels to the chaldron) are annually
shipped from this port for foreign markets, as
well as home consumption. Seven large cop-
per-houses, also, at small distance from the
town, smelting annually forty-five thousand tons
of this metal, and consuming seventy thousand
chaldrons of coals, find employment for many
coasting vessels, which bring ore from Corn-
wall and Anglesey, and load back with coals
and culm. Added to these sources of wealth
and importance, Swansea enjoys a part of the
Baltic and West-India commerce, which, united
with its home trade, have so swelled its com-
mercial consequence as to put it nearly on a
level with Bristol, in respeft to tonnage., and
superior to it with regard to the number of
vessels that visit its quays. The rapid increase
in trade made by this place (notwithstanding
the check which war has naturally produced)
in the course of a few years, will be best un-
derstood by the following view of the number
of vessels and tonnage, extracted from the
custom-house books here :
[ 364 J
In the year 1768 there entered at Swansea 694 vessels,
1794 1757 vessels, 105,907 ~\ fc
1795 1787 11 2,950 f-ljg
1796 1741 103,560 > 8 1
1797 1897 1 15,043V g
3-fourths of 1798 1558 94,7047.2
The beauty of its situation, and its admirable
bathing accommodations, have rendered Swan-
sea the resort of many respectable families of
South- Wales during the summer season; and an
excellent hotel has been erected within these
few years, near to the sea-side, for their reception.
Here a fine hard strand stretches away to the
south-west, embracing within its sweeping
recess the waters of Swansea bay, and com-
manding the enchanting scenery of the Gla-
morganshire coast.
Even now, my dear sir, am I returned from
pacing this sandy level, and watching, for the
last time, the full-orb'd sun slowly sinking into
the western wave. The evening, calm and
serene ; the face of the deep, smooth and tran-
quil, the distant hills melting into air; and the
lingering tints of day fading gradually from
the summits of the opposite rocks, formed a
picture that irresistibly impelled the mind to
serious reflection, and produced a natural ques-
tion in my bosom, whether the wonders, the
[ 365 ]
glories, and the beauties of nature, which had
so often displayed themselves to us during our
tour, had in any degree improved my heart, as
well as interested my imagination. Accuse
me not of vanity, if I tell you the answer was
such as gave rise to a hope that they have not
been altogether unproductive of improvement;
that I shall return from an expedition extremely
pleasurable, with an increase of humility, an
expansion of benevolence, and an enlargement
of every better afleftion; and bid adieu (though
with regret) to the shores of Cambria, if not
a wiser, at least a better, man than when I first
visited them, with no wish at my heart but the
rational aspiration of the poet :
" Farewell thy printless sands and pebbly shore !
" I hear the white surge beat thy coast no more !
" Pure, gentle sourse of the high, rapt'rous mood!
" Where'er, like the great flood, by thy dread force
" Propell'd sbape Tbou my calm, my blameless course,
" HEAV'N, EABTH, AND OCEAN'S LORD! AND FATHER
" OF THE GOOD!"
* The elegant and spirited translation of a passage from,
Sophocles, (X#/f ' u -ETE^oy uyyjahn, &c.) prefixed to Crowe's
" Lewesdon Hill."
firvmweU, Printer, Bath,
University of California
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