Part 4
so justly styled the Garden of South Wales: the rapid Taff 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-prid, or New Bridge, about three quarters of a mile from the Duke of Bridgewater’s Arms. This wonderful bridge of one arch is the segment of a circle; the chord of it is one hundred and forty feet, and the height 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, on lightening the abutments, it has resisted for many years the torrents of the Taff.
This bridge, which in its present state is nearly useless, might, at a very trifling expense, be made as useful as it is wonderful; but the river, which is at most times fordable, renders this perhaps unnecessary. Till this bridge was erected, the Rialto at Venice was esteemed the largest arch in Europe; its span or chord being ninety-eight feet: but this bridge is forty-two feet wider; being, it is supposed, the largest arch in the world.
Wales is generally remarkable for its white-washed cottages, the origin of which custom is attributed to Glamorganshire: the cleanliness, as far as this county is concerned, is chiefly on the outside; but so great is their attachment to lime white, that even the stone garden-wall, the pig-sty, or any stone within moderate distance of the cottage receives its due share of attention; in some parts even the blue slate roof, which to the eyes of an Englishman forms a happy contrast to the whitened wall, is offensive to the eyes of the Welsh, and the roof undergoes the same process as the walls.
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 Merthyr works to Cardiff, renders that a place of frequent business and confusion, which was originally so well adapted to retirement and reflection.
Not only the road from hence to Merthyr, but all the way from Cardiff to that place, the road is esteemed amongst the best in Wales; the views along it are likewise such as to keep the attention alive, nature and art combining to give effect: in one place the rapid Taff is seen breaking its way through the woody cliffs, to the lowest level of the vale, and in the next instant the boats are seen navigating the canal, which winds its course most strangely round the mountain’s brow, three hundred feet above the current of the Taff.
Long before you reach Merthyr, the blackened atmosphere points out the site; but when immediately upon it, you are obliged to inquire where it is, and the way to it: from Cardiff you approach it by the Plymouth works, belonging to Mr. Hill: these lie wide and scattered, and are still extending, the road passing through them for a considerable distance; they are altogether worked by water, forming various fine falls from the same source, viz. the Taff.
After passing these, you appear entering on an extended suburb to a large town; but the town itself is nowhere visible: it is without form or order; in short, to get to your inn you can scarcely find your way along the main road; for to dignify it with the name of street, is more than it merits; yet here is collected together a larger and more bustling population than any other town in the principality can boast; its markets are large, well attended, and more than reasonable; its shopkeepers are numerous and thriving; and all that seems to be required to make this town one of the most respectable in the principality, is, a little attention to order and cleanliness: the lower classes, it is true, are miserably poor; still, even about the iron-works, there are so many better provided for, and so much money is monthly put into circulation, that but little trouble would be wanted to make it assume the appearance, as well as enjoy the reality, of being a populous busy town of trade.
The largest works at Merthyr are the Cyfartha, belonging to Mr. Crawshay: these now consist of six blast furnaces, and two near the town, with fineries, air and puddling furnaces, mill forges, &c. in proportion. The blast is furnished by a steam engine of eighty horse power and an immense overshot water-wheel, fifty feet in diameter, by seven feet in width: this wheel rests on gudgeons which weigh one hundred tons: it consumes about twenty-five tons of water per minute; part of the water is brought a considerable distance along a trough supported by stone pillars; the rest is furnished from the Taff.
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, lime-stone, 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 is afterwards proved, by its adhesion to the tongue: the coal is all charked, and continually put into 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 despatch. 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.
Mr. Crawshay employs upwards of five thousand men in his works only; but to form an estimate of the numbers employed, and the produce of iron afforded, I subjoin the following list of the principal works in the vales from Abergavenny to Neath, each furnace producing, on an average, from forty-five to seventy tons of iron per week. The two large furnaces belonging to Messrs. Crawshays, near to Merthyr, are said to have furnished, for a short period, upwards of one hundred tons each per week.
FURNACES.
Clydac, or Llanelly (in the parish of latter) Freer 2 furnaces Blenavon, Hill 4 The Varteg 2 Nant-eglo, Bayley 4 Beaufort, Kendal 3 Ebro Vale, Harford 2 Sirhowy, Harford 2 Tredegar, S. Homfray and Co. 5 Romney, Mrs. Hall 2 Dowlass, Guest and Co. 8 Penydarran, Forman and Thompson 5 Cyfartha, Crawshays 8 Plymouth, R. I. and A. Hill 5 Aberdare, formerly Thompson and Scales, now Scales 3 and Co. Abernant, ditto, Tappendens 1 Hirwaen 2 Myers and company, four miles short of Neath, charcoal furnace, &c.
The immense collections of cinder, or refuse from the ore, astonish the beholder: it appears almost incredible, that the labour of man could transport such quantities of materials; but when, added to this, you reflect that nearly the whole has passed through the furnaces, and been moved two or three times, how much is the wonder increased! In short, to witness what immense capitals, indefatigable industry, and human ingenuity can accomplish, in dragging forth the bowels of the earth, the vales of the Taff from Brecon to Cardiff, and the very numerous vales running parallel with the Taff, betwixt Abergavenny and Neath, should be explored, both above ground, and in the mines; the value of the inclined planes and rail-roads only would be immense.
About three miles to the north-east of Merthyr, are the remains of Castle Morlais, an extensive and singular ruin: it was originally a British post, afterwards rebuilt by Gilbert, Earl of Glocester, in the reign of Edward I., and the source of a quarrel betwixt that nobleman and Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, which brought down the anger of the monarch on both their heads to such extent, as to subject them to fine and imprisonment: it was so completely destroyed by the Parliamentary army in the seventeenth century, that its form and extent are difficult to trace; a small keep, or look out, on the most elevated part of its scite, still however remains: its upper story is much dilapidated; and the walls as well as roof, nearly destroyed, except the door-way and window, which are of freestone: from the top of one of these, the view of the Black Mountains, &c. is most extensive: the lower apartment (part of the vaulted roof of which has at length yielded to time, and the injuries of the animals who have resorted to the upper apartment for shelter) has once been curious; the arches, twelve in number, which supported its roof sprang from a pillar in the centre; the rib of the arch is freestone, and shows good masonry; the wall is likewise rubbed stone, part of which has been defaced, apparently to see if it communicated with any other part of the castle, or contained any thing worthy the searching for. The pleasantest way for an active person to ascend to this ruin, is at the bridge above the Cyfartha works, to take the right bank, ascending the little Taff: for some distance you pass along the quarries, and at length reach a path cut through the woods, along the banks of this romantic stream: the termination of the path obliges you to incline to the right, and passing two fields, you begin to ascend the hill between a stone wall and extensive lime-stone quarries, belonging to the Pendarren works. The ascent is steep; but if fine, you are amply repaid, on reaching the summit, by the extensive views you command. Dowlass works, which, as well as Cyfartha, have eight furnaces, are seen from here to great advantage. The descent to Merthyr, along the rail-road from the lime-stone quarries you passed in ascending, is easy and pleasant, running alongside the beautiful grounds of Mr. Forman, formerly belonging to Mr. S. Homfray, and which a former tourist describes as containing all of elegance or comfort that Merthyr can boast of. From hence we travelled the road to Pont Neath Vechan, the first part of which is hilly, rough, and through a barren country; but the latter half is rich in scenery, sublime and awful, from pendent rocks and gushing cataracts, and worthy the time and observation of the admirer of nature’s beauties.
PONT NEATH VECHAN.
About a mile and a half from Vechan, we unexpectedly descended by an excellent road 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 Cicerone 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, precipitated itself into 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 Cicerone 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 on a different road, in quest of nature’s landscapes.—Having walked about three miles, we heard the angry roar of small cascades; these we considered preludes to scenes of nature’s grandest cast, where the rushing waterfall swells into a torrent; and accordingly 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. “The effect of sunshine on the cascade,” says Mr. Malkin, “when behind it on a fine day, is both grand and beautiful. The particles of water glittering with a silvery brightness, as they fall; the uncommon brilliancy of every thing without, seen through such a medium, contrasted with the dark green of the moss, everlastingly wet with spray; the corroded dinginess of the rock; the damp and vaporous gloom of the atmosphere within; altogether form a singularly mingled scene of awe and gaiety.”
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 Welsh 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 waterfalls 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 H. I. Grant, Esq. The windows from the banqueting-room command a circle of many miles in 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 site 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 Collectanea {47} he seems to give Margam the preference of all the Cistercian houses in these parts. It was founded for white monks, by Richard de Granville. About the time of its dissolution, it contained only eight monks and was valued at 132_l._ 7_s._ 7_d._ per annum. In this abbey the unfortunate King Edward II. secreted himself in the year 1326, when prevented, by contrary winds, from his intended escape to Ireland; he was soon, however, discovered, and confined in the castle of Kenilworth, under the custody of the Earl of Leicester. 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.
Neath, although surrounded by beautiful scenery, is itself unpleasantly situated: it is low, the streets narrow, the buildings old, and there is in the first view of it an air of desertion and poverty, that sets the traveller against it; yet it possesses some trade as a sea-port, in coals, iron, and copper, for which it is now considerably indebted to its canal, which communicates betwixt Aberdare and Britton Ferry. The ruins of the castle still exist, but possess no particular merit, derived either from strength, beauty, or antiquity. A navigable canal has been made to communicate with all the interior parts of the country to Pont Nedd Vechan. The market days at Neath are Wednesdays and Saturdays. It is one hundred and ninety-six miles one furlong from London. Near Neath is Cringell, the residence of Wm. Davis, Esq. author of a History of this County; and about a mile up the vale of Neath, is Cadoxton Lodge, near which is a cascade. The road from hence to Swansea is very good, and not incommoded by the smoke of the copper-works, as it was formerly; but for horse or foot passengers, though more circuitous, there is a pleasant way by
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 the Earl of Jersey, late Lord Vernon’s, 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. The richness and beauty of this spot is scarcely to be equalled in all the principality: and the climate is so mild, that myrtles, magnolias, fuschias, and other tender exotics, grow luxuriantly in the open air. The church-yard is very beautiful, and beneath the shade of its trees a friend of the Editor of the present Edition wrote the following lines:
When death has stolen our dearest friends away, Some tears to shed is graceful:—but to mourn Loudly and deeply, that their pains are o’er, Is but to prove, we lov’d ourselves far more, Than e’er we cherish’d, lov’d, or valued them. To bear misfortune with an equal mind; To mount the aspiring pinnacle of fame, With a warm heart, and temperate resolve; To curb the rage that prompts to wild revenge; To pay the malice of an envious throng With pity and forgiveness; and to weep, With tears of joy, that our most “useful” friend Has paid the debt Eternity demands, Alike bespeak nobility of mind, And the proud hope, that heaven’s decrees are just. Stranger! of peasant or of royal line; Treasure these thoughts, and Autumn’s yellow leaf Shall never fill thine aged eyes with tears!
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 the Somersetshire coast skirted the horizon.
Swansea, or Abertawe, 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. The castle is supposed to have been erected by Henry, Earl of Warwick, in the reign of King Henry I.; and is at present the property of the Duke of Beaufort; 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 gaol 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.