A Tour throughout South Wales and Monmouthshire. J. T. Barber
walls of this ruin are little injured by time, and most of the apartments may be readily distinguished; the general figure is polygonal, and the ramparts are conspicuously lofty, but unflanked by towers, except at the entrance: a profusion of ivy overspreading the ruin rather conceals than adorns it. This building is supposed to have been erected by the Norman conqueror of Gowerland, and has almost ever since remained the property of that Lordship.
From some high hills behind Ostermouth, an extensive view is obtained over the peninsula of Gower, and the two noble bays of Swansea and Caermarthen, which its projection divides: the general aspect of the peninsula is wild and dreary. Not far distant, near the little bay of Oxwich, are the ruins of Pennarth castle, a fortress built soon after the Beaumonts conquered Gowerland; and on the opposite side of the bay stands the more picturesque ruin of Penrice castle; so called after the Penrice’s, a Norman family that settled there in the reign of Edward the First. This castle is comprised in an extensive domain belonging to Mr. Talbot, which occupies a great part of the peninsula; and here Mr. Talbot has erected an elegant villa, with all the appendant beauties of wood and lawn, lake, and promenade. But, unless with a view to improve the estate, one can scarcely imagine what motive could induce this gentleman to desert his former residence at Margam, possessing all the allurements of favoured nature, and situated in the midst of an agreeable neighbourhood, to force exotic elegance upon a bleak unfrequented coast, and fix his abode far from the usual haunts of society.
About three miles northward of Penrice, upon a mountain called Cum Bryn, near Llanridian, is a table-like monument, or cromlech, [29] called Arthur’s stone: it consists of a huge flat stone, supposed to weigh near twenty tons, supported upon six or seven others about five feet in height; the smaller stones are placed in a circle.—A few miles farther, near the mouth of the Loughor, is Webley castle, which was described to me as a place of considerable antique strength, and as being still entire and partially inhabited. The difficulty of access to this castle, and its out-of-the-way situation, prevented our visiting it; similar reasons also prevented our seeing a curiosity at Wormshead point, a bold promontory jutting far into the sea, and divided from the main land at high-water by the sea’s overflowing its low isthmus. Near the extremity of the point is a cleft in the ground, in which if dust or sand be thrown, it will be returned back into the air; and a person applying his ear to the crevice will hear a deep noise, like the blowing of a large pair of bellows: this effect is reasonably attributed to the concussions of the waves of the sea in the cavernous hollows of the cliff. An old author, I think Giraldus Cambrensis, speaks of a similar phenomenon in Barry island, near the coast between Cardiff and Cowbridge; but at present no such effect is produced at that place.
CHAP. II.
LOUGHOR—LLANELLY—PEMBREE-HILL—KIDWELLY, AND ITS CASTLE.
Having satisfied ourselves with the peninsula of Gower, we entered upon a zigzag excursion, round the coast of South-Wales, to its northern boundary, purposing to return to Swansea by a midland route. My friend had bought an excellent travelling horse, though aged, and a little foundered, for twelve pounds. I was not so fortunate; the few others that we met with for sale, were miserable poneys, and at a price double their value in London: I was, therefore, constrained to engage a poor little hack, at two guineas for a fortnight’s use; and thus mounted we set forward over a high romantic district to Loughor, the Leucarium of Antoninus, now a poor village; but still exhibiting the ruined keep of its castle, on a raised mount surrounded by a moat. From this place, soiled with the filth of neighbouring collieries, we had a river to ford to the opposite shore. This task is by no means enviable; for, in addition to fording a rapid current over a rough stoney bottom, large hollows are formed by vessels at low water, which, not appearing, sometimes entrap the unsuspecting traveller, who may think himself well off if he escape with only a ducking: we thanked our stars when we got across; and, wading through a miserable road, and a region of collieries, arrived at Llanelly (pronounced Llanithly). About half way between the ford and this town, we observed Capel Ddewy, a small ruin, picturesquely accompanied by a yew-tree; and near it the remains of some deserted furnaces.
In this ride we proceeded at an uncertainty, till we were fortunately assisted by an agreeable matron, who was churning at the door of her cottage. Now, as the noise of her employment prevented our hearing each other, she was obliged to leave off; but, that the interval of a few moments from labour might not pass unproductively, she caught up her knitting needles at the same instant, and advanced the fabric of a stocking while she gave us our directions. Such instances of persevering industry were frequent throughout the principality; but more particularly so from hence westward, where not a female was to be seen unemployed in knitting, however she might be otherwise at work, in carrying loads or driving cattle.
Llanelly is a small irregular town, and contains an old seat of Sir John Stepney’s, which, though deserted by the family, afforded habitation to numerous tenants, till the mischievous operation of the window-tax, in driving them out, left it to moulder in decay. The high square embattled tower of its church is remarkable, in being much wider at the base than upwards, forming a sort of cone. This town, however, offering no objects to detain us, we proceeded without halting, and in a few miles ride gained the summit of Pembree hill.
Here a marine view of great extent burst upon us; the grand sweep of Caermarthen bay appeared beneath, terminated on one side by Wormshead point, and on the other by the insulated rock of Caldy in Pembrokeshire; the opposite shores of Somerset and Devon formed the distance, faintly skirting the horizon beyond a vast expanse of sea, studded with numerous vessels. Looking internally, the country exhibited a strong undulatory surface, variously chequered with wild heaths and rich cultivation. Descending the hill, we approached the neat regular-built town of new Kidwelly, situated in a narrow well-wooded valley.
The castle forms a noble object, adjoining the ruins of old Kidwelly on the opposite bank of the river. Leland says, “the old town is prettily waullid, and hath hard by the waul a Castel; the old town is nearly al desolated but the cartel is meately well kept up.” This description applies very well to the present appearance of the place; for, though the castle is uninhabited, it continues tolerably entire. This fortress was built soon after the Conquest, by Maurice de Londres, one of the twelve Norman knights who conquered Glamorganshire; and, after undergoing the usual vicissitudes of sieges, partial demolition, and different masters, fell to the crown of England. We were disappointed of an internal examination of this fine ruin, as the key of the entrance could not readily be obtained, and we were pressed for time to reach Caermarthen before dark. The continuance of our route led us on a steep woody bank, above the romantic course of Kidwelly river; but it soon deviated to the superior attractions of the Towey; following whose expansive water and verdant accompaniments, and crossing a long antique bridge, we reached Caermarthen.
CHAP. III.
CAERMARTHEN—FEMALE LABOURERS—LLANSTEPHAN CASTLE—A FORD—LAUGHARNE CASTLE—FINE MARINE VIEWS—NEW INN—TENBY.
The situation of Caermarthen, one of the most wealthy and polite towns in Wales, can scarcely be enough admired; rising above a noble river, and commanding a full view of one of the most beautiful vales in the kingdom. Internally, there is less to commend; as most of the streets are very steep, and irregularly built; yet there are many good private houses, belonging to the neighbouring gentry that resort here in the winter months; and a handsome town-hall and some other buildings do credit to the public spirit of the town, though a solitary church may reflect but little on its sanctity. Very small remains of the castle, now built up into a gaol, appear; or of the walls that formerly encompassed the town. The trade of the place is much facilitated by its fine river, which conveys ships of a good size up to the bridge.
Caermarthen is the Kaervyrdhin of the Britons, the Maridunum of Ptolemy, and the