Part 2

Andrew Windsor, to the right of the fire-place; _Kneller_. general in the reign of Queen Ann, serving in the 28th regiment of foot Thomas Windsor, to the left, who served in _Kneller_. several wars of William and Queen Ann, and was Colonel of the 3d regiment of Dragoon Guards, in the reign of George I. Lady Ursula Windsor _ibid_. Hon. Matter Windsor _Painter unknown_. A good painting of Ursula Countess of Windsor, _Kneller_. with her grand-daughter Ursula Windsor Thomas Lord Windsor, Governor of Jamaica _Vandyke_. Hon. Charlotta Windsor _Dahl_. Hon. Ursula Windsor _Dahl_. Hon. Dixia Windsor, storekeeper of the ordnance, and for six successive parliaments member for Cambridge.

This Castle belongs to a grandson of the Marquis of Bute.

In this place, Robert Earl of Gloucester founded a Priory of White-friars, and another of Black, which continued till the reign of Henry VIII. Only the shell of the White-friars is now extant, and the ruins of the Black-friars are inhabited by fishermen.

From hence we walked to inspect the remains of that once celebrated city

LANDAFF;

the ruins of the old Cathedral are very beautiful, the door cases are all Norman architecture elegantly moulded; two of which, on the North and South sides, are fine specimens of that æra. All the other parts are Gothic: the nave is unroofed. Within these ruins we entered the Cathedral, which carries with it more the appearance of a modern theatre, than a place of divine worship, so erroneous was the taste of the architect, in combining with the sacred Gothic, a fantastical work of his own. Among several ancient monuments, are two very elegant ones of the Mathews family, {18a} whose descendants own the scite of the Bishop’s Castle, of which only the gate remains: the rest, with the Archdeacon’s house, was destroyed by Owen Glendour. {18b} There are likewise the monuments of two bishops, with another, and the figure of Lady Godiva, full length, carved in marble on it.

Landaff stands on a small eminence, commanding a view of Cardiff, and the surrounding country.—We returned again to Cardiff: and the first six miles of our road to

CAERPHILY

were not very interesting, till ascending Thorn Hill, the beauties of the vale below, with Flat and Steep Holmes rising in the distant prospect, the ruins of Cardiff Castle, and the ivy-mantled walls of Landaff Cathedral, amply compensated for the trouble of climbing this eminence. A little farther on, Caerphily Castle burst upon our sight, and

—“seem’d to frown, In awful majesty on all around.”

The founder, and the time of its erection are very uncertain; but I refer my readers to the first volume of the _Archæologia_; to an ingenious Dissertation, by Daines Barrington, where it is satisfactorily proved to have been the work of Edward I. This Castle is one of the noblest ruins of ancient architecture now remaining in the kingdom, and exceeds all in bigness, except that of Windsor. The Hall and the Chapel may still be traced; the former measures about seventy feet in length, thirty-four in breadth, and seventeen in height. The roof is vaulted about eight feet high, and supported by twenty arches. On the North side is a chimney, ten feet wide, with two windows on each side, extending down to the floor, and carried above the supposed height of this room. At each angle was originally a round tower of four stories, communicating with each other by a gallery. On the West side of the Hall stairs, is a low round tower, of one story, called the Mint-house, with three painted arches on the South side, and a square well on the West. The leaning tower, towards the East end, more particularly engaged our notice: it is divided into two separate parts, by a large fissure, which runs from the top down almost to the middle. Its lineal projection is supposed to be on the outer side, about eleven feet and a half. On the West and North are visible vestiges of a draw-bridge. The East wall, on the South side of the principal entrance, is fluted between the buttresses, with battlements on their tops, to protect the intermediate walls.

At Caerphily we perceived a great change in the manners of the people; in the whole village, scarcely one person was capable of speaking English.

We now came to the celebrated vale of Glamorganshire, so justly styled the _Garden of South-Wales_; the rapid Taafe forms an almost continued uproar for many miles; on the opposite side the mountains rose almost perpendicularly in a massy wall, and sometimes to the water’s edge, finely clothed with wood. Every circumstance conspired to heighten the solitary grandeur of the scene, and to prolong the luxurious melancholy, which the views inspired. In this celebrated vale is found the famous Pont y Pridd, or New Bridge, about three quarters of a mile from the Duke of Bridgewater’s Arms, a comfortable inn, and far surpassing our miserable quarters at Caerphily. This wonderful bridge, of one arch, is the segment of a circle; the chord of it is one hundred and forty feet, and the heighth of the key-stone, from the spring of the arch, thirty-two feet and a half. It was erected, in the year 1750, by William Edwards, a country mason, who failed in his attempt three times, till, by lightening the abutments, it has resisted, for many years, the torrents of the Taafe.

The intrusion of art in this romantic valley, where nature has been so lavish of her beauties, is much to be lamented: a canal, for the purpose of conveying the iron from the Myther Works to Cardiff, renders it a place of frequent business and confusion; a place originally so well adapted to retirement and reflection.

MYTHER TIDVIL,

is a most miserable dirty place; the soil and the inhabitants both partook of a dark dingy colour: the women destitute of shoes and stockings, the men and boys the slaves of Vulcan. The Iron-works, under the direction of Mr. Cramshaw, are the largest in the kingdom; not less than one thousand hands are employed by this gentleman, who allows the person who inspects the machinery one-eighth of the profits, to keep them in repair. Four large blast furnaces, with a number of a smaller size, besides a row of forges, are continually in use. An enormous wheel has lately been constructed, with several inferior ones, acting in contrary directions, which pumps the air into a large space, from whence it is distributed, through various tubes, to each separate furnace. This wheel is fifty feet one inch in diameter, and six feet eight inches in width. The whole weight rests on gudgeons, of one hundred tons. The gudgeons of all the wheels, and of such parts of the machine where there is any friction, have water continually running over them, to prevent their taking fire. It is the particular office of one man to grease every part of the machine, whilst in motion; to accomplish which, he is frequently obliged to ride on an iron bar, similar to the lever of a pump when in motion, a considerable way from the ground. The whole of this machinery is worked by water, not more than a foot deep, which is conveyed by a long spout to the top of the wheel, where it discharges itself. The ore, flux, {23} and coals, which they use to promote the fusion of the ore, are all found on the spot. The ore, previous to its being thrown into the furnace, is burnt in a common lime-pit, the goodness of it afterwards proved, by its adhesion to the tongue; the coal is all charked, and continually put in the furnace, with certain proportions of ore. From the pigs, the iron is rolled into flat plates by a cylinder; this is performed with the greatest dispatch. The gaunt figures of the workmen excite both pity and terror, and the sallow countenances and miserable air of the people, prove it is a labour very prejudicial to their health. From hence we travelled the road to

PONT NEATH VECHAN,

inaccessible for carriages, indifferent for pedestrians, and affording nothing worthy our attention. It lay over a barren heath, with mountains on one side, and a dreary waste of land before us. About a mile and a half from Vechan, we unexpectedly descended through a wood into a rich romantic valley, watered by Neath River. In this retired situation we found the Angel Inn, of Pont Neath Vechan. Description can scarcely suggest the full grandeur and magnificence of this valley: woods, rocks, and waterfalls, all unite, to render it _beautiful_. Our Ciceroni first conducted us to the fall of Scotenogam, on the river Purthen, about a mile and a half from the house: this fall we saw to great advantage, the river having gathered in its course the accumulation of many torrents after the rain, precipitates itself in one majestic expanse of water, near seventy feet high; whilst the dark lowering rocks, on each side, contrasted finely with the varied vegetation around us. The descent is by no means easy, but the grandeur of the scene amply compensated for all difficulties. Our Ciceroni next conducted us to a very inferior one, called the Lady’s Cascade, on the river Neath; but of this we caught a very indifferent prospect, the ascent of the mountain being inaccessible, and the water too high to admit of our obtaining a due inspection of it. We then returned to our inn, and set out a different road, in quest of nature’s landscapes.—Having walked about three miles, we heard the angry roar of small cascades; this we considered as preludes of scenes, where the water-fall swells into a torrent; and we soon found ourselves near the fall of Lower Culhepste. The character of this cataract differs very much from that of Scotenogam; being broken in its descent from projecting rocks, of an immense size. About a quarter of a mile from hence, we descended a rugged and steep rock to examine the fall of Upper-Culhepste, about fifty feet high. The singularity of this fall invites the curiosity of the traveller more than any other in Wales: the whole river precipitates itself with such violence, as to leave a space between the rock and the fall sufficiently wide for a horse path. Though in less than two minutes we were completely wet by the spray, yet the effect was awful and sublime; and it was necessary to remember the fixed foundation of the rocks above our heads, to soften the awe they inspired. Near this fall is Porthogo Cavern, through which the river Vendre runs. The water was too high to admit our entrance; our Conductor, however, informed us, he had penetrated about half a mile, but found the river wind so many ways, he judged it safer to return, lest he should share the fate of a poor man, who lost himself in this Cavern for the space of three days. On our return, a very intelligent gentleman, staying in the neighbourhood, strenuously recommended us to descend a steep mountain, on our left, to survey a curious quadrangular strata of marble in the rock below. With some difficulty we effected our purpose, having waded twice through the river. This strata in Welch is called _Bwr Maen_, which signifies a Stone Bow: it is situated close to the river Dynnas, which, forcing its way through some broken fragments of the rock, forms a cascade a little above. The price offered for this grey marble, in London, is fifteen shillings a foot square.

About five miles from Vechan is the Seat of Mrs. Holbrow, on the right. We were prevented visiting the water-falls of Melincourt and Aperdulas, the river, owing to the late floods, being too deep to ford. Our route still continued through the valley we had so much admired the evening before. As we drew near

NEATH,

the Tower of Knole Castle had a pleasing effect from a distance: it was built by Sir Herbert Mackworth, and is at present in the possession of Lady Mackworth. The windows from the banqueting-room comprehend a circle of many miles diameter, composed of Neath Valley and River, with the smoky Town of Neath,—the Mumbles Point—Swansea, and the Channel. The artificial cascade is well contrived, but, after the foaming torrents of Scotenogam and Culhepste, appears very tame.

The scite of the Refectory, the Chapel, the Hall, and several other rooms in the ruins of Neath Abbey, may still be traced. It stands on the East of the river, and was formerly, by Leland’s account, the “fairest abbay of all Wales;” but in his _Collecteana_ {27} he seems to give Margam the preference of all the Cistercian houses in these parts. It was founded for White Monks by Richard Granville. In this Abbey, the unfortunate Edward II. secreted himself till he was taken. Near the ruins are the Copper-works. The ore is chiefly imported from Cornwall, and Wicklow in Ireland; being calcined, and thereby losing its sulphur, it is refined by the simple process of frequent melting, and taking off the dross, which forms a scum; lastly, being moulded into small plates, or pigs, it is shipped for the market. The method of reducing the metal, when melted into small particles, is by pouring it into water, and, when thus reduced, it is called _Copper Shot_. Brass is a compound of copper thus reduced, and _lapis calaminaris_, pulverized in crucibles, and moulded or cast into plates. _Lapis calaminaris_ is dug in great quantities near Holywell, in Flintshire.

The Town of Neath is very unpleasantly situated, and generally covered with the smoke of the Copper-works; a circumstance which I should imagine renders it an unhealthy spot. On that account it is advisable, both for horsemen and pedestrians, in their way to Swansea, to take the road by Britton Ferry, in preference to the turnpike, which the smoke always renders offensive.

BRITTON FERRY.

This village is much resorted to, on account of its beautiful situation; and many a white-washed cottage straggles through the hamlet. The plantations of Lord Vernon are well disposed, and edge the water’s brink: the river is constantly filled with vessels, whose gay streamers glittering to the sun-beam, present to the eye a constant moving object. Having crossed the Ferry, we proceeded on the sands to

SWANSEA.

The whole of this walk commanded a boundless view of the ocean to the West, whilst to the South the faint hues of Somersetshire coast skirted the horizon.

Swansea is a well-built sea-port town, on the river Tawe, much resorted to during the summer months. The machines for bathing are kept about half a mile from the town, under the direction of Mrs. Landey, who likewise keeps a lodging-house near the place: the charges are twenty-five shillings a week, board and lodging, and ten shillings and six-pence a week for a private parlour. The Castle is supposed to have been erected by Henry Earl of Warwick, in the reign of Henry I.: the small arches round the top of it are exactly similar to the building of Lantphey Castle, and King John’s Hall, St. David’s, Pembrokeshire. This Castle is now turned into a goal and workhouse. The Market-place is said to be covered with the lead of St. David’s Cathedral, given by Cromwell to a gentleman of Swansea.

The clay used for the Pottery, long carried on in this place, is brought from Corfe, in Dorsetshire; having been mixed with finely-ground flint, and dissolved in water, it is passed through sieves, till it has lost all its coarser particles, then exposed to heat, which evaporates the water, and leaves the clay of a consistency sufficient for working. The vessel is first rudely formed by the hand, the clay being stuck to a circular board, which has an horizontal rotation. The other operation consists in the more perfect forming of the work by various processes, and the colouring, glazing, painting, and stamping, drying and baking kilns complete the work.

OYSTERMOUTH CASTLE,

about five miles from Swansea, is finely situated on an eminence, commanding a delightful prospect of the surrounding country, and the Mumbles’ Bay. The ivy-mantled walls of this Castle are sufficiently perfect, to distinguish what the apartments were originally designed for. It formerly belonged to the lords of Gower, but is now in the possession of the Duke of Beaufort. Our curiosity being satisfied, we hastened to the

MUMBLES,

celebrated far and near for the goodness and abundance of its oysters. This village stands at the extremity of Swansea Bay, on a vast mass of splinter’d rock: from this elevation, the wide expanse of the ocean and Swansea Bay are viewed to great advantage. These rocks are inaccessible at high-water, except in a boat; on the farthest is erected a light-house.

At Pennard, we descended some immense sand-banks, which led us into Oxwich Bay: at the head of the sand-banks are the small remains of an old castle, {30} scarcely worthy of observation. The sands in this bay are extremely fine, and the bold projections of the rock exhibit nature in her most awful and impressive attitudes. To the right of Oxwich Bay is situate, at Penrice, the Seat of Mr. Talbot: the grounds are well planned, and command extensive views of the sea: the old Castle rising behind the house gave the whole a fine effect.

Between Penrice and the neat village of

CHERITON,

we observed to our right, on a hill, a large flat stone, several tons weight, resting on about six smaller ones, placed perpendicularly, and standing about five feet high: this is vulgarly called _King Arthur’s Stone_. It is here proper to forewarn both Tourists and Travellers, not to fix on Pennard, Penrice, or Cheriton, as places for a night’s abode, as they cannot possibly be comfortably accommodated. This advice I mention from experience, for at the latter place, we were under the necessity of contenting ourselves with tables or chairs, as substitutes for beds, and even destitute of necessary provisions. On a hill, opposite our inn, we discovered evident vestiges of a Roman encampment; from this elevation the eye caught a fine view of Carmarthen Bay, and the bold promontory of Worm’s Head, to the South-west: this rock is only accessible at low water.

The country through which we traversed for the four or five last miles, is inhabited by a colony of Flemings, who settled here in the reign of Henry I. In the reign of this King’s Father, a great number of Flemings, having been driven out of their habitations, by a very extraordinary inundation of the sea, sought protection in England, where they were cordially received. But so many of these people being dispersed in different parts of the kingdom, began, by increase of their numbers, to create some uneasiness; which Henry I. removed, by settling them as a colony in South Wales, and gave them the country adjoining to Tenby and Haverfordwest. By this wise policy, the King rid his own dominions of an incumbrance, and curbed the insolence of the then rebellious Cambrians. {32} The little territory they inhabit is called _Gwyr_, and by the English, _Little England beyond Wales_, because their manners and language are still distinguishable from the Welsh, and, in point of speech, assimilate the English. These Flemings, to this day, seldom or never intermarry with the Welsh: they speak good English, and are very much averse to the manners and language of the country they inhabit; both sexes generally distinguish themselves by wearing a short cloak, called _Gowyr Wittle_.

In preference to a long walk, of near thirty miles, we crossed the River Bury, as the pleasantest and most expeditious way to

LLANELLY,

a miserable, dirty place, filled with miners and sailors. From hence to

KIDWELY,

the road leads over the Penbree Hills; and from this elevation, the Scenery is viewed to great advantage.

The Castle of Kidwely, otherwise, _Cathweli_, was formerly, I imagine, of great extent, and is still the most perfect we had hitherto met with in Wales, The extent of the apartments are distinguishable; some of the staircases accessible; and the four round towers, keep, gateway, and yard, spread an awful gloom around, whose beauties time had just sufficiently impaired, to heighten its grandeur and sublimity. Our Guide expatiated much on the History and Events of the Castle, and told the story with as much agitation and interest, as if it had happened yesterday.

The road to

CAERMARTHEN,

we found unpleasantly hilly, but occasional Vallies to our left enlivened our walk. Near Caermarthen we crossed a Bridge of free-stone over the Towy. This River, running through the middle of this shire, falls into the British Sea at Caermarthen Bay, and is navigable for small vessels as far as the Bridge. Immediately over it, upon a hanging rock, stand the remains of a once renowned Castle. This Town, according to Giraldus’s authority, was anciently a place of great strength, and fortified with brick walls, which are yet partly extant, near the river. This place, now considered as the Capital of the county, was formerly the residence of the Prince of South-Wales; and the Ancient Britons here held their Parliaments. The Chancery likewise, and Exchequer for South-Wales, were kept here, when this territory was first erected into a Principality, by the crown of England. In the thirty-eighth year of Henry VIII. it was created a borough-town.

This place is famous for being the birth-place of Merlin, who is styled, by an ancient author, “the sonne of a badde angell, or of an incubus spirit, the Britaine’s great Apollo, whom Geoffrey ap Arthur would ranke with the South-saying Seer, or rather with the true Prophets themselves; being none other than a meere seducer, and phantasticall vizard.” He flourished in the year 480.

At the Inn (Old Ivy-Bush) Sir Richard Steel composed his celebrated Play, called the _Conscious Lovers_.

From Caermarthen, we were recommended to go to

LAUGHARNE,

in order to see the Castle, but it by no means answered our expectation: little part of it now remains; and the neat gravel-walk, in the garden, but ill accords with the mutilated walls of an ancient ruin. From the garden walks, grand and extensive Sea-prospects interest the traveller. About five miles from Laugharne, we passed a small place, called

GREEN BRIDGE.

It derives its name from an excavation in the rock, through which a little rivulet runs for a mile and a half. This cavity is completely concealed from the road, and impossible to be discovered, unless pointed out by some neighbouring inhabitant. Let me, however, advise all Tourists to be cautious in their excursions to this natural curiosity, as it is a place evidently calculated for plunder, stratagems, and murder; and is now infested by an unawed banditti of smugglers, who have frequently practised the barbarous scheme of decoying vessels by false lights; and by whom we ourselves were insulted. Indeed, I would advise Travellers to alter their route from Swansea, and pursue the straight road to Caermarthen, and so to Tenby, by Narbeth. By these means they escape the unpleasant roads, (and almost, indeed, inaccessible for carriages,) leading from Oystermouth to Cheriton, and likewise from Llaugharne to Tenby. But should the Tourist be led by an invincible curiosity to inspect the Ruins of Kidwely Castle, it may easily be accomplished, by pursuing the Turnpike-road to Kidwely, and from thence to Caermarthen: in this last route you only omit visiting the Seat of Mr. Talbot, of Penrice; though an object highly worthy of inspection.

At Saunders’ Foot is a small Bay, formed on one side by a rock called the Monkstone, and on the other by the Caermarthenshire coast. Near this place is situate the Seat of Capt. Ackland; and from thence to Tenby, the dark lowering rocks rose perpendicularly to a considerable height, and then branched out into overhanging crags. It was now dusk;—and at this transforming hour, the bold promontories became shaded with unreal glooms,—the projecting cliffs assumed a more terrific aspect,—and the wild, overhanging underwood,