[ornia 
 aal 
 
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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." 
 
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