Part 5

The harbour of Swansea, which is large, has had great sums expended upon it, without much judgment having been evinced in the expenditure: the piers, which are extensive, are already frequently wanting considerable repairs, and will always be a source of emolument to those who know how to make the most of a good job. Swansea Bay is beautiful, and the sail from Swansea to Ilfracombe one of the pleasantest and cheapest I ever enjoyed. The entrance into the latter harbour is grand and terrific; the stupendous rocks by which it is sheltered and enclosed impressing the mind, on a temperate day, with that pleasing awe, which in a more tempestuous time, “when the raging billows roar,” would amount to horror and dismay. Ilfracombe affords comfortable accommodation to remain at; but to remove inland, you have to send to Barnstaple for a conveyance: it is a most romantic situation. Swansea is seen to great advantage from the bay, its best front being towards the Channel; it is a mixture of good and bad, of old streets and new, wide and narrow, pride and poverty, much show and little wealth. The market, which is on a Saturday, is greatly improved of late years, and not only affords comforts, but luxuries; yet Swansea, except to those who are acquainted with it, is a more expensive place to reside at for a short time than an English watering place: still those lodgings, which are so highly rated during the season, are comfortable retreats to half-pay officers during the winter months; and from the mildness of the climate, and many families taking up their residence at it during that period, Swansea, were it not for the faults and greediness or mismanagement of some of its inhabitants, would rise to wealth and respectability. The playhouse is respectable, and the performers generally good, but badly repaid for their exertions. The post-office here is very regular, and conveyances to Bristol, Gloucester, or London, although expensive, regular and safe. A walk may be comfortably enjoyed in five minutes after a shower, or between showers, without wet feet; and both drives and rides in the vicinity are numerous and beautiful. The libraries are good, well supplied, and civil, and the shops accommodating, and plentifully stocked: still I should think the traveller would take more money at Merthyr than Swansea, and four times as much at that little high-spirited place, Caermarthen, as at either; such at least must be the case, if any criterion is to be formed from the quantum of circulating medium required, as gained from the requisitions for the exchange of the new for the old coinage, Caermarthen having wanted upwards of 20,000_l._ and Swansea not having required 4,000_l._ The mail road to Caermarthen is by Pontarddylais, nine miles; Llanon, four miles; Caermarthen, thirteen. Swansea is about two hundred and five miles from London. Its population consists of 10,255 inhabitants. It has some trade to the Baltic; and more than 100,000 chaldrons of coals are annually exported.

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. It is a majestic ruin, standing in a bold position, commanding a beautiful view of the country, the Bay of Swansea, and surrounded by broken cliffs. The walls are so little injured by time, that the design of the apartments may easily be traced. The general figure is polygonal; the ramparts lofty, but not flanked with towers, except just at the entrance. It is a good specimen of the Gothic style; and is ascribed to the Earl of Warwick, in the reign of Henry the First. 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 splintered 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, serviceable to the navigation of the British Channel. The lodging-house above Oystermouth, called Thistle-boon, commands a fine view of the Peninsula of Gower; the Bay of Swansea on one side, and that of Caermarthen on the other.

At Pennard we descended some immense sand-banks, which led us into Oxwich Bay: at the head of the sandbanks are the small remains of an old castle, {57a} 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, {57b} 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. It has been converted into an aviary. Lady Mary Talbot (now Cole), has the most beautiful flower garden in the whole principality.

Between Penrice and the neat village of

CHERITON,

we observed to our right, on a hill, a large flat cromlech, 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. The lifting of this stone in its present place is mentioned in the Welsh Historical Triads as one of the three arduous undertakings accomplished in the Island of Britain. On a hill, opposite our inn, we discovered evident vestiges of a Roman encampment. From this elevation the eye caught a fine view of Caermarthen 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 King 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 the increase of their numbers, to create some uneasiness; which King 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. {58} 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, at Loughton, in the church-yard of which village we found the following epitaph:

The village maidens to her grave shall bring Selected garlands, each returning spring: Selected sweets! in emblem of the maid, Who underneath this hallowed turf is laid: Like her, they flourish, beauteous to the eye; Like her, too soon, they languish, fade and die.

From Loughor we proceeded to

LLANELLY,

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

KIDWELLY,

the road leads over the Pembree hills; and from this elevation the scenery is viewed to great advantage.

The castle of Kidwelly, 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 is 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. To this castle King John retired, when at war with his Barons. 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 valleys to our left enlivened our walk. Near Caermarthen we crossed a bridge of freestone 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 was the site of a Roman station, _Maridunum_, and, 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 King Henry VIII. it was created a borough-town.

No part of Wales can boast a more generous or higher-spirited people than the gentry in the vicinity, and the inhabitants of Caermarthen. Its trade is likewise considerable, as the circumjacent country, for a very considerable distance, is dependent upon it for the common luxuries, and what are now deemed, even in Wales, necessaries of life, for which they bring for sale or barter the most simple article of the native produce; and you may frequently see the basket that has been brought for miles, not contain a sixpenny-worth of herbs, eggs, &c.; yet this trifle is to them of consequence, and enables them to add to the little stock of tea, tape, or pins, which they require. The busy scene of a Caermarthen market is highly interesting, particularly to one fond of the study of political economy.

“Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.”

How cheap must be the subsistence of a party who can walk twelve or fourteen miles to earn sixpence, or disburse a shilling or eighteen-pence, and how few must be their weekly wants which so small a sum can satisfy! It is true they divide this labour, and each take their turn of village or neighbourly duty. The market of this place is not only extremely reasonable, but excellent; hardly excelled in quality by any but Worcester, the cleanliness and beauty of the exhibition of which beats all England. Caermarthen has abundance of good meat, fish, poultry, butter, wild-fowl, and game. In December, 1819, I bought three fine turkeys for nine shillings, fowls from eightpence to one shilling each, and other things in proportion; still the taxes are the same as in England, and good land is high rented; but the wants of the tenantry are fewer; small farms are abundant, and every cottage has its garden and plot of ground, as well as waste land generally: fuel is likewise cheap.

The view from Caermarthen over the Towy is beautiful, and not to be enjoyed any where to greater advantage than from the back rooms of the Ivy Bush inn, or the terrace walk in the garden. Its population is rated at between 7 and 8000, and its houses at about 1200. The market days are Saturday and Wednesday. It is 231 miles from London, by Bristol, and 216 by Gloucester.

The mail arrives from London at nine in the morning, and departs at two o’clock in the afternoon generally. I should feel it the height of ingratitude, if I had failed to notice the great attention paid to strangers who attend divine service at the church: not only are they immediately accommodated in comfortable pews, but prayer-books are supplied to them by the son of the clerk. In short, I witnessed a courtesy and attention to strangers, and a backwardness to receive remuneration, such as I never saw evinced at any other place.

The late Ivy Bush was the house of Sir Richard Steele, who obtained it and his property in this neighbourhood by marriage with the heiress of Jonathan Scurlock, Esq. After the death of his wife he retired to a small farm-house, called the White House, lying about a mile from Caermarthen, and there he wrote his celebrated comedy of the Conscious Lovers.

At some distance from Caermarthen are several very remarkable caves: whence Merlin is supposed to have delivered his oracles.

Of Merlin and his skill what region doth not hear? Who of a British nymph was gotten whilst she play’d With a seducing spirit.

_Drayton Polyolbion_, s. v.

Caermarthen gave birth to 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 mere seducer and phantastical wizard.” He flourished in the year 480.

Some few years after this tour, I took the road to Caermarthen from Ragland, through Crickhowel, Brecon, Llandovery, and Landilo. Passing through Abergavenny, we paused for a few days at Crickhowel, where we amused ourselves in fly-fishing in the river Usk.

Crickhowel stands in the centre of a vale, scarcely surpassed by that of the Towy; and is supposed to have been built in the time of Howel Dha, about the year 940. The castle presents little to attract attention. The church contains some few ancient monuments; but the principal objects for a traveller are to be found at a short distance from the town; viz. a remarkable cave south of Langattock; a waterfall in a dingle, leading to Llanelly iron-works; the remains of a castle, on what is called the Camp Hill; and the beautiful village of Lambeter, the walks of which are, of themselves, almost worthy a journey into Wales. The society around Crickhowel is highly respectable; but there are no noblemen’s seats, and only one park within the distance of many miles. The natural scenery, however, amply compensates.

From Crickhowel we proceeded to a village named Cwmdu, situated between two chains of mountains. The village is poor to the last degree, but the land is rich; and the valley, in which it is situated, may be called the granary of Brecknockshire. There is scarcely a field on the lower sides of the hills, that does not present a spot favourable to build upon. From the farm and house, called Cwmgû, is one of the most beautiful views in all Wales; commanding, as it does, the vale of Usk, the river winding through it, innumerable fields, a high mountain towards the north, the town of Crickhowel on the east; the ruins of Tretower below; a woody hill rising above it; and, from a field at a short distance from the house, the double head of the Beacons, towering, as it were, into the clouds.

Brecon, or Aber Honddu, is a very romantic town; with good inns, and every accommodation for a respectable family. The views around it are beautiful; the Priory groves, as a public walk, are the most delightful in all Wales, perhaps in Britain; while the castle, the priory, and other fragments of antiquity, afford ample materials for the contemplation of those who connect scenes with former events; for within the walls of the castle was planned the union of the two houses of York and Lancaster.

Passing through Trecastle, a miserable village, once a large town, possessing the ruins of a castle, we entered a valley, winding for six or eight miles at the feet of mountains, presenting at every step something to admire, and arrived at Llandovery, or Llanymddvri, situated on the banks of the Brane, near the head of the upper vale of Towy. Here we found the remains of a small castle, once in the possession of Richard de Pws; small in dimensions, and uninteresting in its history; but the town derives some notice from its having produced Rhys Prichard, author of a book well known in almost every _Welsh_ house by the name of the _Vicar’s Book_. He sleeps here without inscription or monument.

From Llandovery, the road and the Towy proceed to Llandilo through a country at once rich in fertility, and beautiful in point of scenery. Llandilo is remarkable for a battle, fought in 1281, between Edward the First and Llewellyn the Great. It has no feature in itself worthy of attention; but its environs are beautiful to the last degree.

About a mile from this town, on the road to Caermarthen, are the ruins of Dinevawr Castle, the most celebrated spot in the principality. This castle was erected by Roderique the Great, in the year 877. So much have been written of these ruins, of the noble park, belonging to Lord Dynevor, and the country round, that I shall merely observe, that, after passing a few hours in admiration, we passed on to Grongar Hill, and sate beneath the hawthorn under which Dyer is supposed to have written his beautiful poem. I cannot, however, refrain from quoting a passage from Spenser, where he describes the Cave of Merlin, which he places near the rocks of Dinevawr.

If thou shouldst ever happen that same way To travel, go to see that dreadful place: It is a hideous, hollow, cave-like bay Under a rock, that has a little space From the swift Barry, tumbling down apace, Amongst the woody hills of Dinevawr. But dare thou not, I charge, in any case To enter into that same baleful bower, For fear the cruel fiends should thee unawares devour.

But standing high aloft, low lay thine ear; And there such ghastly noise of iron chains, And brasen cauldrons thou shalt rumbling hear, Which thousand sprights with long enduring pains Do toss, that it will stun thy feeble brains. And oftentimes great groans, and grievous sounds, When too huge toil and labour them constrains. And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sounds From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds.

FAERIE QUEENE, B. iii. Cant. 3.

The view from Grongar Hill is inexpressibly beautiful. To attempt describing it would only be showing the poverty of human language.

From this spot the road winds to Caermarthen with many a graceful curve, through a country presenting a multitude of objects for the pencil of an accomplished painter.

The regular road to Tenby is by St. Clears, nine miles one quarter: Cold Blow, ten miles seven furlongs; left to Tenby, eight miles and a quarter; at St. Clears is the Blue Boar, and at Cold Blow the Windsor Castle; but, should the Tourist prefer the coast to the regular road, I should recommend him to visit Llanstaphan castle, at the mouth of the Towy; a large and venerable ruin, memorable for the siege it sustained about the middle of the twelfth century, when defended by Meredith ap Gruffydd, who defeated all the attacks of the Normans, &c. who besieged it. The village, which is now resorted to for sea-bathing, is situate at the bottom of the hill. At high water there is a ferry to the village on the opposite side: at low water, at particular periods, the sands may be crossed on horseback; but strangers should not attempt this without a guide. From Llanstaphan the Tourist may proceed by Llaugharne, Green Bridge, &c.

From Caermarthen we were recommended to go to

LLAUGHARNE,

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 is ill adapted for the mutilated walls of an ancient ruin. From the neighbouring heights, grand and extensive sea-prospects interest the traveller. At this place was born the once-celebrated Dean Tucker. One mile distant is another ruin, called Rock Castle, but supposed to have been a monastery. About five miles from Llaugharne, 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. But I would advise travellers to alter their route from Swansea, and pursue the straight road to Caermarthen, by Pontarddylais, where is a comfortable inn, 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 Kidwelly Castle, it may easily be accomplished, by pursuing the turnpike road to Kidwelly, 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 Captain 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

“Waved to the gale in hoarser murmurs.”

TENBY

is much resorted to during the summer months for bathing. It stands on a rock facing Caermarthen Bay: the bold promontory of the Monkstone Head to the north, and St. Catherine’s Point to the south, form a fine amphitheatre. The shore is well adapted for bathing; the machines excellent; and a singular rock, rising in the sea close to the shore, shelters the bathing machines even in the most boisterous weather. On the south of Tenby, at the extremity of the small island of St. Catherine’s, attainable at low-water, are the remains of a Roman Catholic chapel. Entirely through this island is a singular perforation, which, without any difficulty, may be penetrated at the reflux of the tide. The views from the south sands are remarkably beautiful; the character of the rocks is here awfully wild, craggy, and impending; and the distant fishing-boats, with their white sails, and the voices of the fishermen, who constantly frequent this coast, borne at intervals on the air, are circumstances which animate the scene: whilst the islands of Caldy and St. Margaret’s opportunely rise, to render the terrific ocean beautiful. The retrospect is equally interesting; the neat town of Tenby, with the mutilated walls of its castle, closes this charming scene.

The ancient walls of Tenby are still sufficiently perfect to show its former strength and extent; and the four round towers, standing on the extremity of the rock, point out the situation of its castle. Near this is a ruinous building, supposed to be the remains of a Flemish manufactory, probably woollen. On the north sands is likewise another walk, equally beautiful, commanding the whole extent of Caermarthen Bay. On the summit of the rocks, over these sands, is the walk called the Croft.

Tenby is greatly indebted to Sir William Paxton for his exertions in improving it. The inconvenience it so long laboured under from want of water has been, through his means, completely removed, and that most necessary article of life is now enjoyed by its inhabitants in great purity and profusion.