Chapter IV (6)

In this chancel is a handsome monument, erected to the memory of Robert Townsend and his wife, with several figures of their sons and daughters carved round the bottom; over them are the arms of their family and connexions; it bears the date of 1581: a modern monument to Theophilus Solway, Esq. An ancient one to Ambrosia Sydney, who died at Ludlow Castle. This lady was daughter to Sir Henry Sydney, who attained the important situation of the presidency of Wales in the year 1564. He died at Bewdley in 1584, and left this singular injunction to his executors: “That his heart should be buried at Shrewsberry, his bowels at Bewdley, and his body at Ludlow, in the tomb of his favourite daughter Ambrosia.” This order was punctually executed; and the leaden urn, containing his heart, was six inches deep, and five inches in diameter at the top, with this inscription carved three times round it:

“Her lith the Harte of Syr Henrye Sydney, L. P. _anno __Domini_, 1586.” For an engraving of this urn, taken from a drawing of Mr. S. Nicholas, see the Gentleman’s Magazine for September, 1794. Another monument to Edward Weston and his wife, kneeling opposite to each other.

In this church is likewise buried Sir John Bridgeman, the last president but one of Ludlow Castle. He was extremely rigid in his office; and one Ralph Gittins, who had probably experienced his severity, composed the following epitaph on him:

“Here lies Sir John Bridgeman, clad in his clay:
God said to the Devil, Sirrah, take him away.”

Should the Tourist find time to make any stay at Ludlow, several excursions in the neighbourhood will prove highly gratifying. Oakley Park, the elegant seat of the Dowager Lady Clive, claims the greatest attention; it is situated about two miles from Ludlow, on the banks of the Teme River: just beyond this, a seat of — Walpole, Esq. About five miles distant is Downton Castle, the noble mansion and fine walks of Richard Payne Knight, Esq. one of the representatives in parliament for the borough of Ludlow. Being necessitated to leave this charming country by a particular day, we had no opportunity of visiting these celebrated and much admired houses.

With regret we left the delightful situation of Ludlow; and, crossing Lawford’s bridge, we ascended an eminence along a beautiful terrace, commanding a most charming and pleasant country to our left, with the fertile county of Hereford, abounding with orchards, which were all bending with the produce of the year. About two miles from Ludlow, on the right, we paused to admire the delightful seat of Theophilus Richard Solway, Esq., situated on an eminence, and skirted by a rich plantation of wood towards the west: it is called the Lodge. Descending into a bottom, a rich country, studded with farm-houses, soon brought us to the town of

LEOMINSTER,

or Leminster, consisting of one long street. The market-place in the centre, bearing a very old date, and likewise the church, are both deserving of the traveller’s notice. It is situated in a flat, and the country round it is not particularly interesting. From hence a turnpike-road, showing to advantage the rich culture of the country, soon brought us within sight of the venerable cathedral of

HEREFORD,

backed by a sloping eminence just rising behind, and beautifully clothed with wood. Being under a particular engagement to meet a party at Ross, to accompany us down the Wye the following day, time would not allow us to investigate this respectable city so minutely as it deserves. Our observations, therefore, were so cursory, that the Hereford Guide must supply the deficiencies in this part of our journal; this neglect the Tourist must attribute to our delay at the engaging town of Ludlow.

At Hereford we for some time hesitated respecting the hire of a boat to convey us to Ross; but the exorbitant demand of the boatmen soon determined us to pursue the turnpike road, and follow as near as possible the course of the Wye. The orchards were overcharged with “bending fruit,” and seemed to prognosticate a more favourable cider season than has of late been experienced. The retrospect of the city, with its ancient cathedral, formed a most attracting view; and about three miles a most lovely vale, bounded by the hills of South Wales, arrested our attention. A continuation of the same scenery of orchards, in which Herefordshire so peculiarly abounds, with the road continually dipping into shallow valleys, attended us within five miles of Ross; when, ascending a steep hill, a view of that town, or, rather, of its far conspicuous spire, broke in upon the reposing character of the scene. This presently conducted us to Wilton bridge, thrown over the Wye; and, leaving the castle to the left, we ascended the town of

ROSS,

to the inn, so celebrated as the original habitation of Mr. Kyrle; more generally known by the name of the Man of Ross. The landlord seems rather to depend upon the custom of strangers, from this circumstance, than the accommodations the inn offers. On the bridge we paused a short time to take a view of the meandering Vaga, which here considerably widens. Several pleasure-boats, of various constructions, were riding at anchor, and united to enliven the watery scene; whilst its smooth tranquil surface reflected and reverted every object situated on the banks.

The life and character of Mr. Kyrle has too often been insisted on, and too frequently celebrated in verse, to be again repeated, unless to “point out its moral to the heart;” teaching us that self-approbation can confer an inward happiness superior to all worldly applause; for,

“What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy;
The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy,
Is virtue’s prize.”

Such a bustle pervaded the whole town, of parties assembling here for an aquatic expedition to Monmouth the following day, that with difficulty we obtained a small room. From this circumstance it would be advisable for parties to secure themselves accommodations during the summer months, a considerable time beforehand; such is the continued assemblage of parties forming for the Wye. A boat likewise should be hired, and by mentioning the number of your party, the landlord will be a proper judge respecting the size. Strangers may pass with pleasure the greatest part of a day in surveying the views in the vicinity of Ross; views, which must gratify the most superficial observer, but more particularly from the churchyard. A walk may be preferred through the latter place to the Prospect, so called from the profuse variety of objects in the beautiful and the sublime, which are presented from this spot. The sudden bursts of such a collection of beauties, the eye, indeed, cannot contain without gratification. The river below bends itself in the whimsical and fantastical shape of a horse-shoe; this singular wind of the river—the ruins of Wilton Castle—the luxuriant counties of Hereford and Monmouth, and the beautiful Chase Woods, all combine to promote one peculiarly grand and striking effect. To enter into a minute description of objects so various and extensive, is impossible: in fine, to delineate the beauties of the Vaga, with all its accompaniments, would be enumerating every object that is interesting in nature. Having sufficiently contemplated the view from the Prospect, a ramble through the meadows will next prove highly pleasing.

The situation of Ross, though exceedingly beautiful, has nothing in itself to detain attention: the streets are narrow, dirty, and inconvenient. The castle of Wilton, situated on the banks of the Wye, was founded in the reign of King Henry the First: it was formerly a nunnery, from whence the Greys de Wilton derive their title.

Early in the morning we congratulated each other on the favourable state of the weather, and with good spirits provided all the necessaries requisite for our water expedition; the enjoyment of which depends much upon the season. The hire of the boat to Monmouth by water is one pound eleven shillings and sixpence, not including ten shillings for provisions for the men, who likewise expect an additional small sum, after the fatigues of the day. The boat, navigated by three men, will contain ten or twelve people without any inconvenience, and is properly protected by an awning from the heat of the sun. The distance from Ross to Chepstow, by water, is more than forty miles, which strangers occasionally accomplish in one day: but this hurrying method will not allow them an opportunity of inspecting, with proper attention, the various objects which deserve to be noticed; and they cannot possibly find time to leave their boat, and climb the rugged steep banks of the Wye in search of views, which, though visited by the discerning few, yet merit the regard of every amateur of nature’s landscapes. And here it may not be improper to mention, that the boatmen too frequently suffer these most interesting spots to be passed unnoticed by strangers, merely from laziness, or to avoid the delay of a few minutes. Gilpin, in his excellent treatise, Observations on the River Wye, thus analyzes, in the second section, the beauties of the “echoing Vaga,” and divides its constituent parts into—the steepness of its banks, its mazy course, the ground, woods, and rocks, which are its native ornaments, and, lastly, the buildings. To this he might with propriety have added its echoes, the variety of views from its banks, the fishing coracles, which are continually on the river; for all these contribute to form one pleasing and interesting effect.

We embarked on board our boat a little below the town; and the first object which drew our attention was the ivy-mantled walls of Wilton castle. The annual growth of the few trees which encircle it, will in time render it a more picturesque object; it is at present so sufficiently seen from the water as not to require the stranger to disembark for farther inspection. A few yards below we passed under Wilton bridge; an elegant structure of several arches. From hence, for four or five miles, the banks are tame and uninteresting, and so high above the river as to prevent a prospect of the adjacent country; but a group of cattle, some ruminating on the brink, some browzing on the ashlings which overhung the stream, and others

—“From their sides,
The troublous insects lashing with their tails,
Returning still,”

formed a “rural confusion.” The velocity of the stream shortly brought us to that noble scenery, about four miles from Ross, which so eminently distinguishes and constitutes the beauty of the Wye: before us, the noble remains of Goodrich Castle, cresting a steep eminence, enveloped with trees, presented themselves; behind, the thick foliage of Chase Woods closed the picture. The happiest gradation of tints, and the liveliest blending of colours were here conspicuous. On the right hand we landed on the shore, in order to make a minute investigation of the castle: it is certainly a grand ruin, and stands on an eminence, naturally so steep as to render it, in former times, capable of some resistance against a formidable enemy. On our first entrance into the ruin we naturally indulged reflections on past scenes, contemplated the traces of ancient splendor; and, connecting what remains with what is destroyed, we pondered on the vanity of human art and the ravages of time, which exhibit, in this ruin, their completest triumph. The warrior who strove to preserve its original grandeur against the attacks of Cromwell is buried in Walford Church, situated on the opposite side of the river, and seen from the castle. The different parts of the building bear evident marks of its having been erected at various times: from a seat in the castle-yard is the most advantageous spot for surveying, in one view, the whole of this ruin: {288} an octagon pillar of light and elegant workmanship, is seen to great advantage through the gateway, and adds considerably to the magnificence of this ancient pile: it now belongs to Dr. Griffin, of Hadnock, the lord of the manor.

To return to our boat, we took a different and more circuitous route, for the purpose of inspecting the remains of Goodrich Priory, now converted into a farm. The chapel has experienced the same vicissitude; and those walls, which formerly re-echoed with the chanting of voices and the solemn peal, now repeat the continued strokes of the flail. In many parts of the walls, the initials of names of persons who have long since paid the debt of nature, and left behind no other memorial, are carved with characteristic rudeness, showing to every passing stranger the prevalency of that universal passion—the love of fame. The Gothic windows, and the cross erected on each end of the building, show evident marks of its former purpose. The boat usually meets the passengers at another reach of the river; but it is a plan by no means to be recommended; since by missing a circuit round the castle, its different tints and variety of attitudes, occasioned by one of the boldest sweeps of the Wye, are entirely lost. A short time after we had taken our last retrospect of Goodrich castle, the spire of Ruredean Church {289} appeared in front, just peeping from among the woody skirts of the forest of Dean; a little below, Courtfield House, belonging to Mr. Vaughan, was seen in a very picturesque point of view, with the ruins of the chapel, forming the back-ground. In Courtfield House, tradition reports, the warlike King Henry the Fifth was nursed; and in the church of Welsh Bicknor, situated to the right in a noble amphitheatre enclosed with rocks, first embraced the Christian religion.

A busy scene of craft loading and unloading, and coals shipping for various parts from the quay at Lidbrook, presents a picture of cheerful activity, and forms a pleasing contrast to the quiet, rich, and retired spots we had left behind us: such spots as were well adapted to form the mind of Britain’s glory—the virtuous Henry. The banks now became richly clothed with wood, from the summits of the highest rocks to the water’s edge; and a hill in front, called Rosemary Topping, from the mellow luxuriance of its sides, closed the prospect. Almost every sweep presents a new object to strike the admiration of the spectator; the transitions are sudden, but never so harsh as to disgust. Even the contrast between the embellishments of art we had just left, and the wild rocks which here exhibit nature in her most striking attitudes, gave an additional impression to each other.

We now reached the fine mass of rocks called Coldwell; one of which, Symond’s Yatch to the left, it is customary for company to ascend, in order to view the mazy and circuitous course of the river, and the extensive prospect around. The forest of Dean, the counties of Monmouth, Hereford, and Gloucester were extended before us, studded with villages, diversified with clusters of half-visible farm-houses; with many a grey steeple, “embosomed high in tufted trees.” In painting the several views from this summit the happiest description would fail; the impression can only be conveyed by the eye. The river here makes a most extraordinary winding round the promontory; and having completed a circuit of more than five miles, flows a second time immediately under Symond’s Yatch. {290} The whole of this mazy course may be traced from this eminence. From hence we discovered a very remarkable polysyllabical articulate echo, and we reckoned twelve distinct reverberations from the explosion of a gun fired on this spot. It is here again customary for the boatmen to impose on strangers, and if they can prevail on them, during their walk to Symond’s Yatch, will take the boat round the circuit of five miles, and meet them at New Wier, in order that no time should be lost; but this laziness we by no means encouraged; and the whole course of this extraordinary and romantic sweep proved highly gratifying. Goodrich Spire, which we again wound round, presented itself: huge fragments of massy rocks which have rolled down from the precipices opposite Manuck farm, here almost choked up the course of the stream. The changing attitudes and various hues of Symond’s Yatch, lifting its almost spiral head high above the other rocks, as we receded and drew near it, supplied a combination of tints surprisingly gay and beautiful; and having accomplished a sweep of five miles, we reached, within a quarter of a mile, the spot where we began our ascent to this steep eminence.

The view of New Wier next unfolded itself; but a disagreeable scene here generally occurs, and interrupts the pleasure of contemplation: a large assemblage of beggars, men, women, and children, on the banks, bare-footed and scarcely a rag to cover them, followed our boat, imploring charity; and several almost throwing themselves into the water, to catch your money, which every now and then the bigger seize from the less.

But I have omitted to mention, that before we reached the New Weir, the spire of Haunton on Wye, cresting a hill at the extremity of a long reach, and a fantastic barren rock, jutting out from the green foliage which encircles it, presenting itself bold and conspicuous, formed prominent and interesting features in the landscape; this is called Bearcroft, receiving its appellation from the very respectable and learned counsellor of that name. Several rocks, indeed, particularly in this part of the river, are named by the council, who have long made it a practice of exploring the rich and bold scenery of the Wye on their assize circuit. Gilpin, considering New Weir as the second grand scene on the Wye, thus describes it:

“The river is wider than usual in this part, and takes a sweep round a towering promontory of rock, which forms the side screen on the left, and is the grand feature of the view. On the right side of the river the bank forms a woody amphitheatre, following the course of the stream round the promontory: its lower skirts are adorned with a hamlet, in the midst of which volumes of thick smoke thrown up at intervals from an iron forge, as its fires receive fresh fuel, add double grandeur to the scene. But what peculiarly marks this view is a circumstance on the water: the whole river at this place makes a precipitate fall, of no great height, indeed, but enough to merit the name of a cascade, though to the eye above the stream, it is an object of no consequence. In all the scenes we had yet passed, the water moving with a slow and solemn pace, the objects around kept time, as it were, with it; and every steep, and every rock, which hung over the river, was solemn, tranquil, and majestic. But here the violence of the stream, and the roaring of the waters, impressed a new character on the scene: all was agitation and uproar; and every steep, and every rock stared with wildness and terror.”—The accuracy and elegance of this description, drawn by so masterly a pen, I hope will amply compensate for the length of this quotation. The extensive iron works mentioned in this passage belong to Mr. Partridge.

Below the New Weir a continuation of the same rich scenery still arrested our attention, and rocks and wood seemed to contend which should be most conspicuous; till the winding of the river round Doward’s Rock, on which was formerly a Roman station, brought us under the house of Mr. Hatley, which commands a view of the river as far as Monmouth, when it is terminated by the town, and bridge of six arches. As we drew near

MONMOUTH,

the house of Dr. Griffin, situated on an eminence, and a banqueting-room erected by the inhabitants of the place, appeared above the town on the left.

The town of Monmouth lies too low to form a grand appearance from the water, but is, in itself, neat and well-built, and pleasantly situated on the banks of the Wye. As we repaired to our inn, we were both involuntarily led to take a retrospect of the past amusements of the day. The partial gleams of sunshine had given additional tints to the rich and bold scenery, and every thing had conspired to render it a most interesting aquatic excursion. The variety of scenes which Claude would have selected, had he now existed, for his canvass; with rapture, too, would he have caught the tints, and with the happiest effect combined the objects into a picture; kept up our attention, and removed that sameness which too often accompanies water excursions. Such has been the pleasure of our first day’s water expedition; and from the impression it made on us we eagerly looked forward to some future period when we may again retrace views which memory will ever hold dear, and the pleasure be then redoubled with the remembrance of past occurrences.

Opposite the Beaufort Arms, the most convenient inn in the town, is the town-house, handsomely built, with a full length statue on the outside, facing the street, with this inscription under it: “Henry the Fifth, born at Monmouth, August the ninth, 1387.” On the birth of this warlike and virtuous prince, the charter was granted to the town of Monmouth; it is governed by a mayor, two bailiffs, fifteen aldermen, nine constables, two serjeants, and two beadles. The castle now bears few vestiges of its former grandeur; and of the regal dome, scarcely a wreck has escaped, through the long lapse of years, and the ravages of time: where a mighty king once gave audience, and where vassals knelt, now assemble the animate appendages of a farm-yard.

Near the castle is a very antiquated house, now converted into a school, the property of the Duke of Beaufort. To this town Wihenoc de Monemue, or Monmouth, in the reign of Henry the First, brought over a convent of Black Monks from St. Florence, and placed them first in the church of St. Cadoc near the castle, and after in the church of St. Mary. It was among other ancient priories seized by the crown during the wars with France, but was restored again, made denison, and continued till the general suppression in the reign of King Henry the Eighth. {295} From hence we walked to the church-yard; close to which is the room where Geoffery of Monmouth composed his well-known history: this is now a day-school. Monmouth has likewise to boast of a free-school founded here from the following curious circumstance: Mr. Jones, a native of Newland, being in distress, left this parish, and went to London, where he engaged himself as servant to a Hamburgh merchant, and proving trusty in his office, he was by degrees advanced, till at length he attained a fortune of his own. Willing to prove how far the charity of his native place would extend towards him, in disguise he applied for that relief which he was enabled to show towards others; but his parish taking no notice of him, referred him to Monmouth, and would not redress his pretended complaints; the latter, however, being more charitably disposed, relieved him according to his wishes. Having thus proved their generosity, he acquainted them of his real situation, and promised to repay their kindness by obliging them in any demand they should request. On this they solicited the foundation of a free-school, which he immediately built, liberally endowed, and which, from that time, has been well supported. The walk to the Folly, we were informed, would have afforded us some beautiful and extensive prospects; the whole of which information we should probably have found true, but the evening closing we were very reluctantly necessitated to return to our inn.

Early in the morning we renewed our survey of Monmouth. The church first demanded notice: it is a handsome structure, but the inside offers nothing remarkable for the inspection of the antiquary. The gaol, built after the plan of the benevolent Howard, is situated in a healthy spot; and in every respect rendered as commodious and comfortable as such a place will allow for the unfortunate inhabitants. Monmouth, indeed, contains several good houses, and the neighbourhood is respectable. A bridge at the extremity of the town, with the ancient gateway, bears every mark of antiquity.

The hire of a boat from Monmouth to Chepstow is on the same plan as from Ross to Monmouth, the distance being nearly equal. Nothing now remained but to recommence our water excursion; and we accordingly embarked a quarter of a mile below the town, where the river Monnow joins itself with the Wye; from hence Monnow-mouth, or Monmouth. The weather still continued favourable for our schemes: the banks on the left were at first low, but as we receded from the town, the spire of Monmouth in the retrospect, with the Kymin Woods rising from a rock of great height on our left, under which the river meanders, and to our right Pen-y-vall Hill engaged our attention, and was the bold and rich scenery we enjoyed on our first re-embarkation.

The same scenery of rock, wood, and water, which so captivated us on the preceding day, still continued, occasionally diversified by light vessels skimming by our boat, and increasing in number as we approached nearer the sea. The rude hail of the boatmen as they passed, was re-echoed by the rocks; and the dingy white sails of the vessels, which soon disappeared round some bold promontory, were particularly picturesque. Coleman’s Rocks appeared alternately mantled with underwood and pointed crags; large fragments scattered in the river here divide the counties of Monmouth and Gloucester. At Redbrook Hills, the curling smoke issuing from the iron-works formed a pleasing accompaniment to the scenery, and the whole exhibited a picture of industrious labour. These works belong to Mr. Turner: the wood and meadow-land of Whitebrook Hills were finely contrasted with the busy scene at Redbrook. From hence a long reach, with Fidenham Chase Hill rising conspicuously in the front, brought us to the village of

LLANDOGO,

diversified with cottages from the base to the highest summit of the sloping eminence. This village is about nine miles from Monmouth, and arrests particular observation: here vessels of considerable burden were loading with iron and other commodities for various ports. The appearance of the river here changed; the translucent stream, which had hitherto alternately reflected, as in a mirror, the awful projection of the rocks, and the soft flowery verdure of its banks, was affected by the influence of the tide, and rendered turbid and unpleasant to the sight.

A turn of the river soon brought us to the village of

TINTERN,

where we observed the ruins of a mansion belonging to Mr. Farmer of Monmouth. This house appears of an old date, and might probably claim the attention of the curious antiquary, was he not so wrapt up in contemplating the venerable abbey, which presents its Gothic pile in solemn majesty. This august building, great in ruins, and awfully grand in appearance, impels the stranger, as it were imperceptibly, to land and inspect its noble arches, tottering pillars, and highly-finished windows: the specimens of ancient architecture, which formerly were delicately wrought by the hand of art, are now finely decked by that of nature. On our first entrance our attention was too much engrossed to exchange the mutual communication of thought; but the care which has been officiously taken to remove every fragment lying scattered through the immense area of the fabric, and the smoothness of the shorn grass, which no scythe should have dared to clip, in a great measure perverts the character of the scene: these circumstances but ill accord with the mutilated walls of an ancient ruin, which has braved the pitiless storms of so many centuries. In this respect we by no means agreed with Mr. Gilpin, who thus describes it: “We excuse—perhaps we approve—the neatness that is introduced within. It may add to the beauty of the scene—to its novelty it undoubtedly does.” But when this disgust was a little abated, we indulged those reflections which scenes of ancient grandeur naturally recall.

This beautiful ruin is cruciform, measuring two hundred and thirty feet in length, and thirty-three in breadth; the transept is one hundred and sixty feet long. {298} This Cisterian Abbey was founded by Walter de Clare in the year 1131, and dedicated to St. Mary in the reign of King Henry VIII. It experienced the same fate with many other monasteries, and was granted at its dissolution to the Earl of Worcester in the year 1537.

“As the Abbey of Tintern,” says the author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, “is the most beautiful and picturesque of all our Gothic monuments, so is the situation one of the most sequestered and delightful. One more abounding in that peculiar kind of scenery, which excites the mingled sensations of content, religion, and enthusiasm, it is impossible to behold. There every arch infuses a solemn energy, as it were, into inanimate nature: a sublime antiquity breathes mildly into the heart; and the soul, pure and passionless, appears susceptible of that state of tranquillity, which is the perfection of every earthly wish. Never has Colonna wandered among the woods, surrounding this venerable ruin, standing on the banks of a river, almost as sacred to the imagination as the spot, where the Cephisus and the Ilyssus mingle their waters, but he has wished himself a landscape-painter. He has never sat upon its broken columns and beheld its mutilated fragments; and its waving arches and pillars, decorated with festoons of ivy; but he has formed the wish to forsake the world, and resign himself entirely to the tranquil studies of philosophy. Is there a man, my Lelius, too rich, too great, too powerful, for these emotions? Is there one too ignorant, too vain and too presumptuous to indulge them? Envy him not! From him the pillars of Palmyra would not draw one sigh; the massacre of Glencoe, the matins of Moscow, or the Sicilian vespers, would elicit no tear.”

As we receded from the banks, Tintern Abbey, with the Gothic fret-work of the eastern window, seemingly bound together by the treillage of ivy, appeared in the most pleasing point of view; sloping hills and rich woods forming a fine back-ground. As we drew nearer

CHEPSTOW,

some most noble rocks, “Nature’s proud bastions,” opened upon us to the left, grander than any we had hitherto admired, and which we had previously determined were inconceivably fine, and surpassed any idea we had formed of the channel of this romantic river. To add to the magnificence of the whole, the setting sun tinged the rocks with the most resplendent colours, and the dewy freshness of the evening improved the charm of the scene; the one enchanting the sense, the other refreshing it. The lofty Wynd Cliff to the right; and Piercefield, with the curious projecting rocks, called the Twelve Apostles and Peter’s Thumb, heighten to the very extent of beauty this noble view; gratifying beyond measure to the admirer of nature. Another reach brought us in sight of Chepstow Castle on a prominent rock, of which it seemed to form a part; noble in situation, and grand in appearance. The handsome new bridge, the rocks, and the scarce visible town, here made a most charming picture: this we enjoyed exceedingly, but regretted a few more minutes would set us on shore, and conclude our excursion on the Wye; an excursion, which, the farther we proceeded the more we were interested; and so much so, as to determine a renewal of this pleasing tour another summer. The former wooden bridge over the Wye at this place was of very singular construction; the boards forming the flooring were all designedly loose, but prevented by pegs, fastened at the extremity of them, from being carried away by the tide, and by that ingenious contrivance they gradually rose and fell with it, which is here frequently known to rise to the extraordinary height of seventy feet.

Not having visited the church in consequence of the bad weather at the commencement of our tour, we determined now to inspect it. The entrance through the western door is an elegant specimen of Saxon architecture, richly wrought, with three arches; in the inside is the monument of Henry Marten, one of the regicides who presided at the condemnation of King Charles I., and was confined in the castle twenty years. A curious carved one to the Marquis of Worcester and lady, though not buried here; and another of the date 1620, to the memory of Mrs. Clayton and her two husbands, both kneeling. This church originally belonged to the alien benedictine priory of Strigule, but was converted at the Reformation into the parish church of Chepstow.

Admittance to the celebrated walks of Piercefield can only be obtained on Tuesdays and Fridays. To survey these with that attention which they deserve would occupy several hours; the liveliest description cannot do justice to the rich and bold scenery, with all its accompaniments; the eye can alone receive the impression, for,

“How long soe’er the wand’rer roves, each step
Shall wake fresh beauties, each short point presents
A diff’rent picture; new, and yet the same.”

“The winding of the precipice (says Gilpin) is the magical secret by which all these enchanting scenes are produced.” At one point, both above and below, as far as the eye can reach, rolls in majestic windings the river Wye: at another, the Severn, hastening to meet “its sister river,” is discovered, till at last they are both lost in the Bristol Channel: at another, these scenes are concealed, and thick woods, apparently coeval with time itself, and a long range of rock, burst upon “the wanderer” with irresistible beauty and attraction. The occasional recurrence also of the rude beach, overshadowed by some umbrageous tree, and concealed from the steep precipice below by thick underwood, allow only glimpses of the surrounding scenery.

* * * * *

I have thus brought my Tour to a conclusion; a Tour, which has been productive of much amusement, and, I hope, not entirely devoid of advantage. It only remains, therefore, for me to add, that the two friends, having completed a pedestrian circuit of near eight hundred miles, parted with mutual regret, jointly exclaiming,

“Cambria, as thy romantic vales we leave,
And bid farewell to each retiring hill,
Where fond attention seems to linger still,
Tracing the broad bright landscape; much we grieve
That mingled with the toiling crowd, no more
We may return thy varied views to mark.”

SONNETS.

SONNET I. TO FRIENDSHIP.

Addressed to the companion of my tour.

O balmy comfort through this varied maze
Of life! thou best physician to the breast,
With deep affliction’s venom’d sting opprest,
A thousand arts, a thousand winning ways
Are thine, to smooth the rugged brow of care,
And mitigate misfortune’s keenest hour:
Yes, A..., partner of my Cambrian Tour,
Friend of my heart, how gladly do I share
Thy confidence; whate’er my part may be
Hereafter on this shifting stage of life,
This busy theatre of jarring strife,
May health and happiness attend both thee
And thine!—on One, thy Heav’nly guardian, trust,
Nor doubt protection—all His ways are just.

SONNET II. THE CONTRAST OF YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY;

Supposed to be written on the summit of Snowdon.

How gay was yesterday!—no storm was heard
To mutter round thy steep—yon sun arose
With golden splendor, and in still repose
Nature majestic through her works appear’d.
To-day how chang’d—loud howls the hollow blast!
The thin mists undulate! thy tow’ring height
Is veil’d in tempest and eternal night!
So ’tis with man! contrasting prospects past
With dreams of future happiness—to-day
In gallant trim his little bark may glide
On the smooth current of the tranquil tide:
To-morrow comes!—the gathering storms display
A sad vicissitude—the whirlwind’s sweep
Grasps at its prey, and whelms it in the deep.

SONNET III. ON LEAVING WALES.

Why bursts the tear, as, Cambria, now I leave
Thy wild variety of dale and hill,
Where fancy, fond intruder, lingers still?
Why do these parting sighs my bosom heave?
’Tis that, alas! I ne’er may view again
Those haunts, those solitary scenes I love;
But through this vale of tears forsaken rove,
And taste the sad vicissitudes of pain:
’Tis that I sadly breathe a warm adieu
To long-lost scenes of mutual amity;
’Tis that I turn, my absent friend, to thee,
“Think on past pleasures, and solicit new!”
For thee my fervent prayers to Heaven ascend,
And may we meet again as friend to friend.

SONNET IV. TO THE WELSH HARP.

Loved instrument! again repeat those sounds,
Those plaintive airs, that through my senses steal
With melancholy sweet. Their pow’r I feel
Soothing my sadness, healing sorrow’s wounds.
Gently thou lull’st my suff’rings to repose,
Inclin’st my heart to ev’ry virtuous deed;
Removing from my mind each dark’ning shade
That clouds my days, increasing all my woes.
Now swelling with the breeze, along thy vales,
Romantic Cambria! the strain I hear,
Then dying soft away, comes o’er my ear
In whispers soft, still wafted by thy gales!
Loved instrument! again repeat those sounds,
Soothing my sadness, healing sorrow’s wounds.

SONNET V.

Supposed to be written by moon-light, on the sea-shore at Tenby.

I love to mark the silver-curling spray
Just kiss the pebbled shore; the zephyr blows,
And ocean slumbers in serene repose;
While the moon’s beams in quiv’ring radiance play
Upon its surface: yet ere long, that tide
May heave its foaming billows to the shore,
And the sea boil in one tempestuous roar.
See here thy picture, man! reason, thy guide,
Can lull each gust of passion into rest!
Her aid divine, her energy once lost,
In what a sea of angry tumults tost,
Raves the mad whirlwind of thy troubled breast!
Blind passion then can reason’s aid refute,
And degradate the man to worse than brute.

SONNET VI. ON SEEING LLANGOLLEN VALE.

O thou, too captious of each airy scheme,
Fancy! thou dear delusive traitor, say,
Are not thy charms the phantoms of a day,
That mock possession, like a fleeting dream?
Here could I spend, if such had been my lot,
Quiet my life; nor should the shiv’ring poor
Depart unfed, unaided, from my door.
“Content is wealth,” the emblem of my cot.
Here, by the brook, that gently babbles by,
Should stand my garden; there, the blushing rose
And woodbine should their sweetest scent disclose.
But ah! farewell these dreams;—my big full eye
Swells with the bursting tear—I think, how few
The road to real happiness pursue!

SONNET VII. PROSPECT OF SUN-RISE FROM SNOWDON.

How grand the scene from this stupendous height!
How awfully sublime! the king of day
Flames in the east; old Ocean’s waves display
One globe of fire! one boundless flood of light!
With what unclouded lustre blaze the skies!
While Mona’s flats tinged with a golden hue,
Burst with transcendant beauty on the view;
And, Man, {309} thy scarce seen mountains proudly rise.
Nature beneath, seems prostrate; and my sight
Can hardly grasp the vast immensity!
Can then the muse attempt to sing of thee,
Nature’s great God! Father of life and light!
Who bade the sun his annual circle roll,
Who guides, directs, and animates the whole.

SONNET VIII. TO MY DOG.

Yes, thou hast been companion of my Tour,
And partner of my toils! hast rov’d with me
Through Cambria’s rude and wild variety,
And often sooth’d the solitary hour
With thy caresses; yet false man can claim
Superior reason, claim a mind endued
With love, with faithfulness and gratitude;
Love a mere sound, and gratitude a name.
Yes, faithful creature! and when thou art gone,
With fond attention shall thy bones be laid;
And a small tribute to thy memory paid
In these few words, engraven on thy stone:
“Here let in peace the faithful Sylvio lie,
The truest picture of fidelity.”

INDEX.

PAGE Aber 216 Aberaeron 94 Aber Garth Celyn 216 Abergele 232 Aberystwith 95 Alney, Isle of 12 Amlwch 196, 201 Anglesea, or Mona, Isle of 191 Avon 18 Aust, or Old Passage 21 Bachegraig 250 Bangor 184 Bardsey, Isle of 139, 140 Barmouth 124 Baron Hill 195 Bearcroft Rock 292 Beaumaris 195 Beddgelert 152 Benglog, Cataracts of 213 Bishop’s Castle 275 Blenheim 5 Bodfari 250 Bodscallan 234 Bosherton Meer 71 Brecon 59 Breddin Hills and Column 273 Bristol 13 Britton Ferry 48 Brynkir 147 Bully Bear 71 Burford 5 Cader Idris 118 Caerleon 26, 30 Caermarthen 55, 61 Caernarvon 172, 181 Caerphily 36 Caer Rhun, or Canovium 226 Caerwent 25 Caerwys 251 Cardiff 32 Cardigan 93 Caldecot Castle 24 Cannant Mawr, Waterfall of 171 Capel Curig 210 Carew Castle 67, 78 Carreg 236 Castle Dinas Brân, or Crow Castle 265 Castle Morlais 42 Castleton 69 Cayne, Falls of the 132 Cheltenham 5 Chepstow 23, 299 Chereton, or Stackpool Elidur 53 Cheriton 73 Chester 239 Chirk 266, 269 Christchurch 25 Clawdh Offa, or, Offa’s Dyke 272 Cleave Hill 6 Clenenney 147 Clifton 19 Cold Blow 61 Coldwell Rocks 290 Coleman’s Rocks 296 Conway 223, 229 Courtfield House 289 Cresseley 79 Criccaeth 138 Crickhowel 58 Cridden 230 Culhepste, Upper and Lower 44, 45 Cwmdu 59 Cwmgu 59 Cynvel, Pulpit of 137 Cyttiau Gwyddelod 221 David’s, Saint 83 Dee River 261, 264, 266 Denbigh 252 Devil’s Bridge 100 Dinevawr 60 Dolbadern Castle 171 Dolgelly 115 Dolwyddelan Castle 148, 229 Dol-y-melynlln 131 Dovey River 111 Doward’s Rock 293 Dowdeswell 6 Downing (Mr. Pennant’s) 236 Downton Castle 282 Drwsycoed, Pass of 157 Dwygyfychi 220 Dyflas River 114 Dyganwy, or, Dinas Gonwy 230 Dynas Brân 265 Eaton Hall 241 Eisteddfod 251 Enstone 4 Eryri, or Creigaúr Eryri (Snowdoniana) description 166 of Euloe Castle 239 Fauconberg, Earl of, the seat of 6 Festiniog, Vale of 136 Fidenham Chase Hill 296 Fishguard 89 Flaxley Abbey 22 Flint 239 Forest of Deane 27, 290 Glamorgan, Vale of 38 Glocester 10 Gloddaith 234 Goodrich Castle 287 Goodrich Priory 291 Gored Wyddno, or Gywddno’s Weir 230 Gosddinog 218 Great Orme’s Head 232 Green Bridge 62 Grongar Hill 60 Gwddu Glâs 220 Gwydir House 229 Gwyndy 205 Harlech 127 Haverfordwest 81 Havod 104 Haunton on Wye 291 Hawarden Castle 239 Hênllan 70 Hepthrop 4 Hereford 283 Holyhead 202 Holywell 236 Hubberston 76, 126 Iestingtown, or Iseton 70 Kidwely 55 Kilgerran Castle 91 Kilken, the Church of 249 King John, cruelty of, to the Jews 14 King’s Weston 19 Knole Castle 46 Kymin Woods 296 Kymmer Abbey 123 Landshipping 79 Lantphey Castle 68 Leeswood 248 Leominster 283 Lidbrook Quay 289 Lidney 23 Linney Point 71 Llanarth 94 Llanbadem Vawr 99 Llanbeblic 174 Llanberris, Vale of 165, 171 Llandaff 35 Llandogo 297 Llandegai 208 Llandovery 60 Llandudno 232 Llanelian 199 Llanelly 55 Llanettyd 123 Llanfair 198 Llanfairfechin 223 Llangoed 219 Llangollen 263 Llanruth 255 Llanstaphan Castle 62 Llanstundwy 146 Llanwrst 229 Llanymynach 271 Llaugharne 62 Llewini Hall 252 Llyn Ogwen 212 Loughor 54 Ludlow 276 Lysdin 147 Machynlleth 113 Maentwrog 136 Maen y Campiau 221 Maes Garmon 249 Malvern Hills 10 Mannerch 251 Mannorbeer Castle 67 Manuck Farm 291 March Wiel 258 Mawddach, River and Fall of 131 Menai, straits of, and ferries over 173, 178 — bridge over, description of 189 Merion Court 70 Merthyr Tydvil 40 Milford and Haven 75, 77 Moel Arthur 250 Moel Famma and Column 249 Mold 248 Mona, or Anglesea 191 Monkton 69 Monmouth 27, 293 Monnow River 296 Montgomery 216, 274 Mumbles 52 Mynach, Falls of 101, 103 — bridge over the, or Devil’s Bridge 103 Mynydd Caer Leon 227 Nangle, Bay of, and Village 70 Nanhwynan, Vale of 157 Nanlley, Lake of 157 Nanneau Park 124 Nant, Ffrancon 210, 212 Natives of Eryri 166 — Courtships, Marriages, &c. of 167 — Modes of Burying 169 Neath 46 Nevin 175 Newgin 82, 83 Newnham 23 New Passage 21 Newport (Monmouth) 26, 32 Newport, (Pembrokeshire) 90 New Wier 291, 292 Northleach 5 Northop 239 Nuneham Courtney 4 Oakley Park 277, 282 Offa’s Dyke 260 Ogwen 210 — Bank and River 210 Orielton 69 Oswestry 270 Oxford 1 Oxwich Bay 50 Oystermouth Castle 52 Pary’s, or Paris Mountain 193, 201 Pembroke 68, 73 Penbedw Hall 250 Pendyffryn 222 Pen-mawn-mawr 219 Penmorfa 149 Pennard 53 Penpold (pleasure-house), fine view from 19 Penrhyn Castle 206 Penrice 53 Pentraeth 197 Pen-y Vall Hill 296 Peter’s Thumb 300 Picton Castle 79 Piercefield 301 Pistyll y Cayne 133 Plâs Gwynn 197 Plâs Newydd 177 Plinlimmon 111 Plymouth Works 39 Pont-Aber-Glaslyn 138, 151 Pontcysyllty Aqueduct 261, 269 Pont Neath Vechan 44 Pont y Prid 38 Porthogo Cavern 46 Powis Castle 274 Priory Pill 77 Prospect, view from the 285 Pwllheli 145 Pystyll Rhaiadr 271 Ragland Castle 27 Ramsey Isle 89 Redbrook Hills and Iron-works 297 Red Wharf Bay 197 Rhaiadr-du 137 Rhaiadr Mawr 227 Rhaiadr y Mawdach 131 Rhôscrowther 70 Rhuabon 260 Rhual 249 Rhuddlan 233 Rhyddol, Vale of and River 99 Roach Castle 83 Ross 284 Ruredean Church 289 Ruthin 254 St. Asaph 234 St. Briaval’s 27 St. Bride’s Bay 83 St. Clear’s 61 St. David’s 83 St. Degmen’s Well 70 St. Dogmael’s Abbey 94 St. Fynnon, St. Dyfnog 254 St. Govan’s Chapel and Well 71, 74 St. Julian’s 31 St. Petrocks 73 St. Stinan’s, or St. Justinian’s Chapel 102 Segontium 176 Seiont, River and Fort of the 176 Shirehampton 20 Slebech 81 Snowdon 158 Solva 83 Stackpool Court 71 — Elidur 70 Stretllan 271 Swansea 49 Sychnant 219 Symond’s Yatch 290 Taff River 38 Taliesin 230 Talylyn 115 Tannad River 271 Tan y Bwlch 135 Tenby 63 Tewkesbury 8 Tintern and Tintern Abbey 297 Tower 248 Towy River 61 Traeth Mawr 149 Trecastle 60 Trefan Hall 146 Tremadoc 137, 150 Tridegar House 32 Twelve Apostles’ Rocks 300 Tynymaes 210 Tyvi River 91 Vale of Clwyd 234, 254, 255 — Conway 229 — Festiniog 136 — Glamorgan 38 — Llangollen 264 — The Severn 273 Valle Crucis Abbey 268 Velindre 90 Victoria Alleluiatica 249 Virnway River 271 Upton 10 Usk 29 Walford Church 288 Welsh, or British Games 221 Welsh Pool 273 Westbury 21 Whitebrook Hills 297 Whittington 270 Wilton Castle and Bridge 284, 286, 287 Witney 5 Woodstock 5 Worm’s Head 54 Wrexham 256 Wye River 285, 286, 288 Wynd Cliff 300 Wynnstay Park 260 Ynys-halen 204 Y-Trivaen 212

* * * * *

THE END.

* * * * *

LONDON:
PRINTED BY R. GILBERT, ST. JOHN’S SQUARE.

FOOTNOTES.

{0} For much of the present essay I am indebted to the following works:—Commentarioli Britanniæ descriptionis fragmentum, Auctore Humfredo Llwyd; Powel’s History of Wales; Edward Llwyd’s Notes, in Gibson’s edition of Camden’s Britannica; Rowland’s Mona Antiqua Restaurata; Stukeley’s Medallic History; the Preface to Owen’s Translation of the Elegies of Llywarch Hen; Jones’s Musical and Poetical Relics of the Welsh Bards; the Monthly Magazine, and the first and second volumes of the Cambrian Register.

{23} Atkins’s Glocestershire.

{24} Grose’s Antiquities.

{25} Warner’s First Walk through Wales.

{26} He was buried in the cathedral church of St. David, and many hundred years after canonized by Pope Calistus II.—Godwin’s English Bishops, p. 414.

{35a} Willis’s Landaff, p. 34.

{35b} Grose—Willis.

{47} Vol. II. p. 92.

{53a} Pennarth, eight miles south-west of Swansea.

{53b} From the Welsh Pen Rhys.

{54} William of Malmesbury, p. 158.

{67a} Famous as being the birth-place of Sylvester Giraldus de Barri (more generally known as Giraldus Cambrensis), nephew of David Fitzgerald, Bishop of St. David’s; to which see Giraldus himself aspired. He was twice elected to it by the chapter, but never attained that dignity, although he had refused, in such expectation, three or four bishoprics, as well as the Archbishopric of Cashel. Acting as legate to the Archbishop of Canterbury in Wales, he evinced great spirit in correcting numerous abuses which had crept into the church in that principality. The great credit which he derived from these spirited exertions were greatly added to, by the many valuable works he bequeathed to posterity, the merits of which have been recently revived under the fostering auspices of Sir Richard C. Hoare, Bart., who has enhanced the value and interest of his translation of the Itinerary of Giraldus by illustrations derived from his own pencil. Seventeen years before his death he resigned all his ecclesiastical preferments, giving himself up to his studies: he died in the 74th year of his age, at St. David’s, where his monument is still remaining.

{67b} The pedestrian will not possibly find time to examine the ruins of Carew Castle in this day’s route, but will find it more convenient to visit it in his way from Tenby to Haverfordwest.

{74} The price for two oars seven shillings and sixpence; and twelve shillings and sixpence for four oars.

{75a} Wyndham’s Tour through Monmouthshire and Wales.

{75b} Philosophical Survey of Ireland.

{82a} “This castle (says an eminent author) is said to have been built by Gilbert, Earl of Clare, who lived in the reign of King Stephen; and Camden reports, that Richard, Earl of Clare, made Richard Fitz-Tancred governor thereof. It was one of those in the hands of the Flemings, when they first came into Dyvet, or Pembrokeshire.”

{82b} These lines were frequently repeated by Dr. Johnson, whose partiality to inns is well known.

{84} “This celebrated person was uncle to King Arthur, and son of a Prince of Wales. After being seated in the see of St. David sixty-five years, and having built twelve monasteries; after having been exemplary in the piety of these days, this holy person died, at a most advanced period of human life; having attained, as it is said, to the age of one hundred and forty-six years. He was buried in the cathedral church of St. David, and many years after canonized by Pope Calistus the Second.” Warrington’s History of Wales, Vol. II. p. 385.

{85a} To whose son a M.S. t. Elizabeth, quoted by Willis, p. 69, gives Owen’s monument.

{85b} Tan. Bib. Brit.

{85c} Tanner, p. 720.

{87} Pope Calistus, by whom David was canonized, had, it seems, raised this place to a rank second only to the pontifical city itself, in the meritorious efficacy of the pilgrimages made to it; having declared that two visits to St. David’s were equal to one to Rome:—this occasioned a proverbial rhyme in Welsh, which has been thus translated into Latin:

Roma semel quantum, bis dat Menevia tantum.

{88} Leland, Vol. V. p. 25.

{90} For a description of these monuments, see Wyndham.

{91} “From _Cwrwgl_: in Irish _Curach_. The Greenland boats are also made of laths, tied together with whale-bone, and covered with seal-skins. In these slender vehicles they are said to be able to row upwards of sixty miles a day; and the tops being covered with skins, they resist the fury of every storm. For when a wave upsets them, the boat rises again to the surface of the water, and regains its equilibrium. When Frobisher first saw them, in 1576, he took them for seals or porpoises. In the voyages of the two Zenos, they are compared to weavers’ shuttles. They are used, also, in the islands of the North-Asian Archipelago, where the Russians call them _Baidars_; and are found to be of such practical use, that Lieut. Kotzebue, in his expedition along the American coast of the Frozen Sea, took with him boats of a similar construction, in order to ford any rivers that might obstruct his journey. Similar boats are used by the Samoides of Nova Zembla. They are also used in Labrador, Hudson’s Bay, and Norton Sound. They glide with almost inconceivable swiftness. The Arctic highlanders of Baffin’s Bay, however, have no method of navigating the water. They never even heard of a canoe.” _Beauties_, _Harmonies_, _and Sublimities of Nature_, vol. iii. p. 335. Second Edit.

{94} Itinerary, Vol. V. p. 12.

{95} Over the river Rhyddol.

{97} Near the town of Aberystwith, in the year 1795 or 1796, a very fine coral stone was found, washed up from the sea, by an exciseman. It is now in the possession of Mr. Charles Hall, of Aller, in Hilton parish, Dorsetshire; is extremely fine on one side, near two inches in diameter, rather flat, but with some convexity. The late Dr. Pulteney, of Blandford, allowed it to be the finest specimen he had ever seen. Its colour is a yellowish white, its filaments are finely curved, and very uneven on the surface.

{100} The additions to Camden, 1695, suppose this Bishop Idnert.

{111} Called in Latin, Vaga.

{112} See an excellent account of the woollen manufactory in the seventh chapter of Aikin’s Tour through North Wales.

{114} See Pennant’s Snowdonia, p. 89, and likewise Wilson’s excellent View of Cader Idris.

{116} Mr. Pennant, in his Snowdonia, p. 397, edit. 1781, mentions, that there are brought annually to Salop “seven hundred thousand yards of web; and to Welsh Pool, annually, between seven and eight hundred thousand yards of flannel;” but he does not state the particulars whence he deduces his general estimate. I have quoted this passage from Aikin’s excellent chapter (vii.) on the woollen manufacture of North Wales, not having in my possession Mr. P.’s Snowdonia.

{119} First Walk through Wales.

{144} Dr. Fuller observes—“It would be more facile to find graves for as many saints, than saints for so many graves.”

{154} Gelert was given to Llewelyn by King John in 1205.

{158a} Evan Thomas worked in the copper-works at Aber Glaslin, and lived at a place called Dous Coreb, about a mile and a half beyond Beddgelert.

{158b} The most usual and best direction, in which to ascend Snowdon at the present day, commences between the New Inn and Dolbadarn Castle, near the Bridge.