LEONARD'S RATHE, crowning a bold eminence; this work is circular, and, from the height of its vallum and depth of its ditch, may be attributed to the Saxons.

As I advanced from this spot I parted with the beauties of the country: no objects of interest occurred; the unadorned views became compressed in narrow limits, until at length they were shut up in mountainous hollows.

In this dreary track stands a poor solitary house called New inn, half way between Haverford and Cardigan: however, I here obtained part of a goose for my dinner, and then proceeded up the PRECELLY MOUNTAIN.

This mountain, reckoned the highest in South Wales, is part of a great ridge crossing Pembrokeshire in a direction East and West. On gaining the summit, a prodigious extent of prospect burst upon me. In front, a wild hilly tract, yet not undiversified with patches of cultivation, stretched nearly to the northern confines of South Wales, where the pale summit of Plinlimmon, in Montgomeryshire, might be just distinguished from the atmospheric blue: more westward, beyond a vast expanse of sea, like a doubtful mist rising from it, appeared Bardsey island, and the neighbouring sh.o.r.es in Caernarvonshire; and looking across the miserable country about Fishguard and St. David's, my guide a.s.sured me, that "on a very clear day a very good eye might discover the mountains of Ireland;"

but, I confess, it was not my good fortune to discover any such appearance. On looking backward, the whole of the interesting country that I had travelled in the neighbourhood of Milford-haven appeared in one comprehensive though distant display. From dwelling a considerable time on these extensive scenes, I traversed an uninteresting country made up of lumpy hills, and left Pembrokeshire in crossing the handsome old bridge of Cardigan.

CARDIGAN (in Welch chronicles Abertivy {84}) is a neat respectable town, though many of its streets are narrow and steep, seated on the north bank of the river Tivy, near its junction with the sea: the river is navigable for ships of small burthen up to the quay, which enables the inhabitants to carry on a pretty brisk trade with Ireland. This town, though small, is governed by a mayor, thirteen aldermen, and as many common councilmen.

The ruins of its castle, appearing on a low cliff at the foot of the bridge, are very inconsiderable, scarcely showing more than the fragments of two circular bastions overgrown with ivy; yet it was once a large and important fortress. Its foundation is ascribed to Gilbert de Clare, about the year 1160; but it was soon after taken, and in part destroyed, by Rhys ap Gryffith. {85}

Here are also the remains of a priory of Black monks, which was dedicated to St. Mary, and was subordinate to the abbey of Chertsey in Surrey.

Near Cardigan, in the year 1136, the English army, commanded by Ranolph earl of Chester, was shamefully worsted, and the two barons Robert Fitz Roger and Pain Fitz John, with 3000 others, slain on the spot, besides a great number drowned by the fall of a bridge. In this battle the English soldiers appeared to be planet-struck, surrendering themselves prisoners to mere old women; and the general with a few men made their escape not without great difficulty.

[Picture: St. Dogmael's Priory]

Early in the morning after my reaching Cardigan, I made an excursion in search of ST. DOGMAEL'S PRIORY, about a mile and a half distant. This fragment of antiquity is very much dilapidated, and boasts scarcely any picturesque appearance; the few parts standing are converted into barns, sheds, and habitations; but enough remains to shew the original extent of the church; which was cruciform, of no considerable dimensions, and of the early Gothic style; in the cemetery adjoining the ruin, and the village church,

-"a church-yard yew, Decay'd and worn with age,"

has a pleasing characteristic effect: and here the scene, finely interspersed with wood, and overlooking the Tivy, is undoubtedly picturesque. This priory was founded for Benedictine monks by Martin de Turribus, a Norman chieftain, who first conquered the surrounding territory called Kames or Kemish, and deluged it with the blood of its natives. This was a common trick for cheating the devil, practised by the organized plunderers of that day. After pillaging a country, and enslaving or ma.s.sacreing the legitimate proprietors, they hoped to expiate their crime, and quell the rising qualms of conscience, by appropriating a part of their booty to a monkish foundation-to a set of idle jugglers, scarcely less inimical to the rights of society, though less ferocious, than themselves.

Returning to the inn, I rejoined my fellow-tourist, who had just completed his circuit of between forty and fifty miles round the coast: of this route I learn the following particulars:

From Haverfordwest the road pa.s.ses neat the elevated ruin of Roche castle; thence extends through a wild dreary country, near St. Bride's dangerous bay, and crossed the romantic creek of Solva to the once flourishing city of ST. DAVID'S, now in appearance an inconsiderable village. This deserted place occupies a gentle eminence on that projecting rocky cape called St. David's head. In a sheltered hollow beneath the town, are the n.o.ble ruins of the Metropolitan episcopacy of Wales; yet the CATHEDRAL OF ST. DAVID'S, though long a mouldering pile, having lately undergone a thorough repair, with a just attention to the antique style of architecture, now appears in renewed magnificence. This venerable structure is cruciform, of large dimensions, and of the early Gothic architecture, though not without much of the high-wrought fret-work additions of later ages. The nave alone wears all the simplicity of its original construction; the tower, highly ornamented, rises from the middle of the church to the height of 127 feet; Bishop Vaughan's chapel behind the choir, and the dilapidated one of St. Mary's, exhibit all the elegant tracery of the ornamented Gothic; as does also the chapter-house, and St. Mary's hall, now a ruin. Among the numerous ancient monuments that are to be met with in the church and its chapels, those of Owen Tudor, and Edward Earl of Richmond, father of Henry the VIIth, both situated near the middle of the choir, are worthy of notice.

The episcopal palace is a superb ruin, surmounted with a light parapet raised upon arches, in the style of Swansea castle and Lamphey court.

"The area of the great court is 120 feet square; on the east side of which is the Bishop's hall, 58 feet in length, and 23 in breadth; the King's hall, on the south side, is 88 feet by 80. This grand saloon is said to have been built expressly for the reception of King John, on his return from Ireland in 1211." But we are informed by G.o.dwin, that the palace itself was not erected until about the year 1335: which must be an anachronism, unless the story of King John be unfounded. The first hall is a grand room; but the latter has been particularly splendid. Over the fine arched entrance are the statues of King John and his queen; and at the cast end is a curious circular window with bars diverging from the centre, still in a perfect condition. The chapel containing the remains of a font, and kitchen amply furnished with four chimneys, are also entire: nor are the forsaken apartments deficient in proofs of the regal splendor a.s.sumed by the Romish pastors of Christian humility.

Many ruinous buildings, once habitations of ecclesiastical functionaries, surround the cathedral; yet sufficient are kept in repair for the diminished number of officers now appointed: the cathedral service is, nevertheless, performed with an attention that would do credit to more eminent establishments. The whole of these buildings are inclosed by a wall eleven hundred yards in circ.u.mference.

St. David's is supposed to have been a Roman station, the Octapitarum of Ptolemy; and here St. Patrick is said to have founded a monastery to the honour of St. Andrew in the year 470: to this place St. David translated the archbishopric of Wales, from Caerleon, about the year 577, and founded the cathedral, which was afterwards dedicated to him; but the primacy was withdrawn, and annexed to that of Canterbury, in the reign of Henry the First. Here also a college was founded for a master and seven priests by John Duke of Lancaster, in conjunction with his wife and the Bishop of the diocese, in the year 1369.

At the extremity of St. David's promontory is a disjointed craig; so large, that it is supposed a hundred oxen could not drag it away; but so placed on smaller stones, as to have been easily rocked by the pressure of a man's hand. {91}

In druidical ages, this formed the grand ordeal: if a man was to appear guilty, the priests managed that he should apply his pressure near the axis, and the stone remained immoveable; but if his peace or priest offerings were deemed commensurate to his sins, he was instructed to lean near the extremity, and it easily gave way. Near this head-land is Ramsay island, a fruitful little spot, and once particularly so in holiness, if we may credit ancient histories, which state that no less than twenty thousand saints lie interred in it. The dangerous rocks called the Bishop and his Clerks, near this island, are covered with wild fowl in the breeding season.

The road continues on a barren tempestuous waste to Fishguard, a miserable fishing town, only remarkable for the late descent of 1400 French invaders, who, after a few days possession of the neighbourhood, surrendered to the Welch peasantry, headed by Lord Cawdor. Newport, a few miles farther, is another poor fishing town, at the bottom of a small bay: the ruined castle, seated on a hill above the town, was built by the Anglo-norman settlers in 1215, but afterwards nearly destroyed by Llewellyn. In Nevern churchyard, near Newport, is the shaft of a stone cross about thirteen feet high, curiously carved all over with scrolls and knots. At Pentere Evau, in Nevern parish, is a circle of rude stones, 150 feet in circ.u.mference; in the midst whereof is a cromlech {92} of great dimensions: in the same parish is another altar monument, called Llech-y-drybedh, having a furrow in the flat stone, which might be to carry off the blood of the victims. In Grose's Antiquities, five stone altars are stated to be in this neighbourhood, and also four barrows; one of which, on being opened, was found to contain five urns full of burnt bones. Nothing worthy of particular notice occurs from this spat to Cardigan.

We projected an aquatic excursion, to explore the scenery of the Tivy; but, the tide not answering, we were obliged to desert the river for two or three miles, and proceed by land to Kilgarran. The Tivy above Cardigan becomes environed by high hills, whose approaching bases contract the bed of the river, changing its character from a broad and majestic, to an impetuous eddying stream: the sides of these hills rise from the water in almost perpendicular steepness, yet clothed with trees from the river's brink to their ridgy summits. In the midst of this imbowered glen, a naked rock, crowned with the truly picturesque remains of Kilgarran castle, proudly advances, and forms a striking contrast to the dark rich verdure that prevails in the other accompanyments of the river.

[Picture: Kilgarran Castle]

The position of Kilgarran castle is nearly on all sides self-defended; but on the isthmus that connects the projecting rock with the main land, two ponderous round towers seem to have formerly defied the a.s.sault of war, as they now do that of pilfering dilapidation. The broken walls, watch-towers, and apartments that compose the minor parts of this fortress, bespeak it to have been of no great original extent, or highly ornamented; yet the scattered relics, variously interwoven with ivy, offer an appearance from most points of view highly imposing and grand.

The foundation of the castle is uncertain, and the styles of different ages appear throughout the building. According to Carradoc, this fortress was erected about the year 1222, when Marshall Earl of Striquil (Chepstow) vanquished the Welch under their Prince Gruffydth, and gained an undisputed footing in these parts. The town of Kilgarran is diminished into one street, thinly inhabited by labouring farmers and fishermen.

In a romantic hollow, a mile or two higher up, the Tivy, throwing itself over a ledge of rock in one bold sheet, though not more than six feet in depth, forms a salmon leap generally esteemed the most remarkable in Wales. The salmon, in its course up the river, meeting with the fall, coils itself into a circle, and by a sudden distension springs up the precipice, and cleaves the torrent with astonishing vigour; {94} yet it is frequently baffled, and greatly amuses the spectator with its repeated attempts to overleap the cataract. We were not entertained with this display of strength and agility on our visit, but were much interested by the curious means employed in catching the fish. The fisherman is seated in a sort of canoe, called a coracle, formed of open basket-work of thin laths, covered with a horse's hide, or a well-pitched piece of sail-cloth: the vessel is of a figure nearly oval, about four feet and a half long and three wide, yet so light as to be carried with ease on the man's shoulder from his home to the river: in this he whirls among the eddies of the river; with a paddle in one hand, he alters or accelerates his course with surprizing dexterity; while with the other he manages the net, the line being held between his teeth. In this way the fishing in most of the rivers of Wales is pursued. Coracles have been peculiar to British rivers from time immemorial. Lucan very clearly describes them; and in latter times, Sir Walter Raleigh relates, that "the Britons had boats made of willow twigs covered on the outside with hides."

Near the water-fall is a manufacture of iron and tinned plates, belonging to Sir Benjamin Hammet. Two or three miles higher up the river is NEWCASTLE, a small irregular town situated upon its banks, and graced with the venerable ruins of a castle, but of no great antiquity. Thence a road of twenty miles extends through a dreary uninteresting country to Caermarthen.

A more romantic and sequestered path than is traced beside "the hollow stream that roars between the hills" from Lechryd bridge to Llangoedmor on the north margin of the river, can scarcely be imagined; continuing upwards of two miles, beneath the umbrage of its high and well-wooded banks, and commanding delightful landscapes of the sombre kind at every turn. In the parish of Llangoedmor, we learned, there were several monuments of the druidical ages: one is a remarkably large cromlech; the flat stone being eight or nine yards in circ.u.mference, with one edge resting on the ground: there is a smaller monument of the same kind near it; also a circle of rude stones about twelve yards round; and five beds of loose stones, each about six feet over. Llechly gowress (the stone of a giantess) in the parish of Neuodh, also near Cardigan, is another very large cromlech; and near it is a parcel of large hewn stones nineteen in number; which, it is said by the vulgar, cannot be counted.

CHAP. VII.

LLANARTH-ABERAERON-LLANSANFRIED-LLANRHYSTID-AN ENQUIRY INTO A STRANGE a.s.sERTED CUSTOM RELATING TO THE MODE OF COURTSHIP IN WALES-LLANBADARNVAWR-ABERISTWYTH, AND ITS CASTLE.

We left Cardigan on the road to Aberistwyth, and soon entered upon the same dreary kind of country that we noticed in the north and north-west of Pembrokeshire. At the poor village of Blaneporth, on the left of the road, is a large circular area encompa.s.sed by a moat, which is most probably the remains of a British fortification. Castel-Yn-dalig, a mile or two further, is a similar work, but much larger and less distinct.

Thence we began to ascend a tract of lofty hills (leaving Penrhyn church on our left near the sea-sh.o.r.e {98}), and, gaining a considerable eminence, enjoyed an uninterrupted view over the whole sweep of Cardigan's extensive bay. This bay, from its southern limit, Strumblehead near Fishguard, stretching northward, extends a vast gulph into North Wales, and is at length terminated by Bardsey island in Caernarvonshire: it often proves a shelter to ships in the Irish trade, and contains several good harbours. The effect of this extensive display from the great elevations that we traversed was extremely striking; stretching from beneath us to a remote horizon the sea, exhibited a silvery surface of immense magnitude; while the sh.o.r.es presented an endless variety of bold advancing promontories, overhanging cliffs, and high swelling mountains wild and desolate; yet here and there a stripe of green meadow appeared on a favoured slope, and a few woody plantations disclosed themselves through picturesque hollows. In the distant boundary of Caernarvonshire, the projecting and receding hills about Pulh.e.l.ly bay were conspicuous; opposed to these, the superior magnitude of Cader-Idris arrested the attention, towering among the craggy summits of the Merionethshire mountains. From the bay our view roamed over a dreary uninteresting tract of country, to a ridge of mountains, whose broken outline mixing with the clouds defined the entrance of North-Wales; where, proudly rising above compet.i.tion, the confederated mountains, forming the pile of "Mighty Plinlimmon," appear in all their majesty.

The consideration of these distant objects, and the attention demanded by a stumbling horse, were my chief employments from Cardigan to Aberistwyth: yet the general tediousness of our ride, upon a rocky track here called a turnpike, had some relief as we pa.s.sed through LLANARTH, a _market-town_, consisting of half a dozen huts seated in a romantic hollow; and ABERAERON, about four miles further, a neat village near the seash.o.r.e, pleasingly situated at the entrance of an abrupt well-wooded valley. Near its picturesque bridge there is a more comfortable inn than might be expected in so retired a situation; and, as it afterwards appeared, the only tolerable one between Cardigan and Aberistwyth. From this place the road, bordering the sea-sh.o.r.e, became more level; and we soon came within view of the fragments of a castle on the beach, the greater part of which appears to have been washed away by the action of the sea. This fort was probably erected by the Normans to cover their landing or retreat, when, in the reign of William Rufus, they fitted out a fleet, and, descending on the coast of Cardiganshire, conquered or ravaged the maritime country to a considerable distance. Most of the princ.i.p.al towns then fell into their hands, upon which they affected the government; but, as a measure of no less necessity than policy, a.s.signed their power to Kadugan ap Bledin, a British chief of high authority, who strictly adhered to their interest. His son Owen however, rashly attacking the Normans and Flemings who had lately settled in the neighbouring territory southward, was, with his father, obliged to fly into Ireland. Henry the First then entrusted the country to Gilbert Clare, who raised many fortifications within the district. Kadugan and his son Owen were nevertheless soon after restored to their lands; but this son, committing fresh incursions, was slain by Gerald of Pembroke, whose wife Nestra he had carried away. Old Kadugan became a prisoner in England for a length of time, but was in the end restored to his estates; when he was suddenly stabbed by his nephew Madok. Henry the Second afterwards gave this tract of country to Roger de Clare; whose son Richard earl of Clare being slain in a contest with the Welch, Rhys, prince of South-Wales, attacked and vanquished the Anglo-Normans with great slaughter, and reduced them under his dominion. But by degrees Cardigan returned to the hands of the English until the final conquest of the country by Edward the First.

We soon after pa.s.sed through the dreary village of LLANSANSFRIED, where a monastery is conjectured to have existed; and about two miles further entered LLANRHYSTID, which place is a.s.signed to be the site of another.

As we entered the latter village, "the dark mists of night" fell over us.

We therefore finished our day's journey at the Red Lion inn, a tolerably decent ale-house, where we were presently joined by a man in a labourer's habit, whom we had observed on the road in very gallant intercourse with a peasant girl, and had rallied on the occasion; yet were we not a little surprized at finding him not only a man of extensive information, but a cla.s.sical scholar and a well-bred gentleman. On his leaving the room, we had an opportunity of enquiring who this character was, and learned from our landlord that he was a native 'squire, who lived about ten miles distant, who till lately had been in orders and officiated in London; but on the death of his father had thrown off the gown and become a man of pleasure. "Though he is so shabbily dressed," said our host, "it is only a frolic, for he is a very able man." Now, as the term _able_ in Wales is synonymous with rich in other places, we enquired the amount of his income, and found it to be _near a hundred a year_.

This gentleman proved a most agreeable and useful companion during the evening; but we were sorry to observe in him a professed Epicurean; the gratification of his appet.i.tes he declared to be his great object, and defended his practice on what he termed the fundamental principles of nature; nor was he in want of an ingenious sophism against every point of attack. We concluded that this gentleman's habits would qualify him with due knowledge on a singular custom that is said to prevail in Wales, relating to their mode of courtship; which is declared to be carried on in bed; and, what is more extraordinary, it is averred, that the moving tale of love is agitated in that situation without endangering a breach in the preliminaries. Mr. Pratt, in his "Gleanings," thus affirms himself an _eye-witness_ of the process: "The servant-maid of the family I visited in Caernarvonshire happened to be the object of a young peasant, who walked eleven long miles every Sunday morning to favour his suit; he usually arrived in time for morning's service, which he constantly attended; after which he escorted his dulcinea home to the house of her master, by whose permission they as constantly pa.s.sed the succeeding hours in bed, according to the custom of the country. This tender intercourse continued without any interruption near two years, when the treaty of alliance was solemnized." Our companion, like every one else that we spoke with in Wales on the subject, at once denied the existence of this custom: that maids in many instates admitted male bed-fellows, he did not doubt; but that the procedure was sanctioned by _tolerated custom_ he considered a gross misrepresentation. Yet in Anglesea and some parts of North Wales, where the original simplicity of manners and high sense of chast.i.ty of the natives is retained, he admitted _something of the kind_ might appear. In those thinly inhabited districts, a peasant often has several miles to walk after the hours of labour, to visit his mistress; those who have reciprocally entertained the _belle pa.s.sion_ will easily imagine, that before the lovers grow tired of each other's company the night will be far enough advanced; nor is it surprizing, that a tender-hearted damsel should be disinclined to turn her lover out over bogs and mountains until the dawn of day. The fact is, that under such circ.u.mstances she admits a _consors lecti_, but not _in nudatum corpus_. In a lowly Welch hut, this bedding has not the alarm of ceremony: from sitting or perhaps lying on the hearth, they have only to shift their quarters to a heap of straw or fern covered with two or three blankets in a neighbouring cornet. The practice only takes place with _this view of accommodation_.

At an early hour in the morning we left our "flinty couch" at Llanrhystid; though rendered, by a day of healthful fatigue, "a thrice-driven bed of down;" and, skirting the sea, the resumed the views of the preceding day. Advancing about two miles, we remarked, on a gentle eminence in a field to the left of the road; several rough-hewn stones patched over with the "moss of the centuries:" two of these, remaining upright, are ma.s.sive paralellopipeds, from eight to ten feet high, standing within a yard or two of each other; among the other stones lying about in different directions, I could trace no indication of a circle; it has, however, been supposed to be a Druidical temple; although the two upright stones might rather seem to mark the "narrow house" of some departed warrior. We soon after descended into the abrupt vale of Ystwith, and crossed its river over a picturesque bridge, venerably mantled with ivy. {106} Our route continued over the high ridgy hills that divide the parallel vales of Ystwith and Rhydol, the latter of which presented an agreeable contrast to the dreary country through which we had travelled from within a few miles of Haverfordwest.-Here, among extensive meadows of the richest verdure, the meandering Rhydol wantons its fantastic course. On a gentle eminence near its banks, in the midst of the valley, appears the embowered town of LLANBADARN-VAWR, a picturesque though deserted spot, yet once a Roman city, and afterwards the seat of an Episcopacy and Monastery established by St. Paternus in the beginning of the sixth century. The church is yet a handsome building. Between this town and the sea-coast is a small ancient fortification, consisting of a square area surrounded by a wall with a tower at one of the angles. A range of wild hills, backed by the stupendous Plinlimmon, forms the opposite boundary of this valley; and at its termination in the sea-coast, the town of Aberistwyth appears in a very picturesque light on the brink of the sea, with its ruined castle on a gentle rise to the left.

ABERISTWYTH is a less agreeable town on entering it, than as a distant object. Most of the streets are narrow and ill-paved; and the stone used being of a black colour, gives the whole rather a dirty appearance; but this remark is not applicable to some houses that have lately sprung up for the genteel company which resorts to it in the bathing-season. Nor must I mention the bathing at Aberistwyth, without observing, that it is conducted with more propriety than at any other watering-place that I have seen in England or Wales. The ladies' and gentlemen's machines are placed nearly a quarter of a mile asunder; and the indecency of promiscuous dipping, so disgusting at more fashionable resorts, is in consequence avoided: the bathing too is excellent, with a good sandy bottom at all hours of the tide.

The castle, seated on a craggy eminence projecting into the sea, westward of the town, is so much dilapidated, as scarcely to present a characterizing form: but there is an agreeable public walk traced through the ruin, which commands a view of the sea and the neighbouring coast; with the little port (common to the Rhydol and Ystwith rivers) well filled with fishing vessels just below the cliff. This spot is also enlivened by a tasteful residence of Lady Juliana Penn's, lately erected near the ruin, with much appropriate effect, in the form of a gatehouse.

Aberistwyth castle was founded by Gilbert de Strongbow, son of Richard de Clare, in the reign of Henry the First; but soon after its erection it fell into the hands of the Welch princes, and was destroyed in their intestine quarrels. Powell says, that the present castle was built by Edward the First, anno 1277, a short time before the complete conquest of Wales. It appears to have been a strong place, as a garrison of King Charles maintained it for some time after his death.

Among the mountains in the neighbourhood of Aberistwyth, a number of lead and silver mines were discovered about three centuries back; and in the reign of Elizabeth a company of Germans reaped a great fortune in the enterprize of working them. Sir Hugh Middleton, after them, was equally successful, netting 2000_l._ a month out of one silver mine. He was succeeded by a Mr. Bushel, who also gained immense profit from the works; insomuch that in the civil wars he made King Charles a present of a regiment of horse, and clothed his whole army. The company of mine-adventurers worked these mines also with success, until they fell out among themselves, to their own injury, and that of the mining interest throughout the country; and I believe that these works have been deserted ever since.

CHAP. VIII.

BARRIER OF NORTH AND SOUTH WALES-THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE-GRAND CATARACT OF THE MYNACH-CWM YSTWITH HILLS-HAFOD-ANCIENT ENCAMPMENTS-STARFLOWER ABBEY-TREGARRON-ROMAN ANTIQUITIES AT LLANDEWI BREVI-LAMPETER-LLANSAWEL EDWIN'S FORD-LLANDILO.

We were detained at Aberistwyth by the continuance of a violent rain which had deluged the neighbourhood for several days. At length a cessation of the storm allowed us to resume our journey, though not to perform a projected excursion to the summit of Plinlimmon, which is only free from clouds in very fair weather. Returning up the hilly confines of the valley, we again admired the meandering Rhydol, and its gentle accompanyment; but following its course, as we advanced through a wild romantic district, the character of the valley soon changed; dark wooded hills, aspiring to the dignity of mountains, advanced their s.h.a.gged sides toward the stream, and, gradually closing to an impervious glen, shut up the river in their recess. Beyond these hills rose the broken line of mountains forming the termination of South Wales, where mighty Plinlimmon, lord of the boundary, raised his stupendous head in majestic desolation, though half concealed by eddying clouds: the whole scene exhibited unfettered nature in her wildest mood. A pouring rain that now fell over us circ.u.mscribed our desert prospects, while we proceeded over uncultivated hills, with scarcely a token of society, to the DEVIL'S BRIDGE.

[Picture: The Devil's Bridge]

The cataract that is here formed by the falls of the Mynach saluted us with its thundering roar, long ere we approached it; but, as we drew near, the strong verberation, rebellowed by surrounding cavernous rocks, seemed to convulse the atmosphere! We hastily put up our horses at the Hafod arms, a solitary inn; and in a few paces found ourselves on the bridge, suspended over a gulph at which even recollection shudders. This bridge bestrides a lane of almost perpendicular rocks, patched with wood, whose summits are here scarcely five yards asunder. At a terrific depth in the glen rages unseen the impetuous Mynach, engulphed beneath protruding craigs and pendant foliage: but on looking over the parapet, the half-recoiling sight discovers the phrenzied torrent, in one volume of foam, bursting into light, add threatening, as it breaks against the opposing rocks, to tear the mountains from their strong foundations; then, instantly darting into the black abyss beneath, it leaves the imagination free to all the terrors of concealed danger. With emotions of awe, nor without those of fear, we climbed down the side of the rock a.s.sisted by steps that were cut in it, and with some peril reached the level of the darkened torrent; where, standing on a projecting craig against which the river bounded, immersed in its spray and deafened by its roar, we involuntarily clung to the rock. The impression of terror subsiding, left us at liberty to examine the features of the scene.

Nearly over our heads appeared the bridge attributed to the handy-works of the Devil; but a less cunning workman might have thrown an arch across a fissure of a few feet span; and indeed the native mason who, about 50 years since, built the bridge now used, standing perpendicularly over the old one, has constructed the best arch of the two. The original bridge was built by the Monks of Starflower Abbey near 700 years since. Nor is the singular appearance of these arches devoid of picturesque effect; being tastefully besprinkled with verdure, and relieved by the intervention of numerous branchy trees: while the naked black opposing cliffs, worn out into curious hollows by the torrents, exhibit as bold a rocky chasm as ever was traced by the pencil of Salvator.

On climbing from this hollow, we proceeded two or three hundred yards to the left of the bridge, and again descended a fearful track, to witness the grand FALLS OF THE MYNACH. Under the direction of a guide, we reached the ordinary station with little difficulty, where the view of the cataract disclosed itself with considerable effect, in four separate cascades; though, from the great fall's being divided by the intervention of a projecting rock, they appeared too much alike: the eye, accustomed to picturesque disposition, in vain sought to fix itself on a pre-eminent feature. I wished to get lower, but it seemed impracticable: emboldened, however, by the example of our guide, I clambered upon the edge of an immense perpendicular strata of rock, to nearly the lower channel of the torrent; when the cataract appeared in the most perfect disposition imaginable: the great fall displayed itself in uninterrupted superiority, and the lesser ones retired as subordinate parts. The perpendicular descent of this cataract is not less than two hundred and ten feet; the first fall is not more than twenty feet; the next increases to sixty; the third diminishes to about twenty; then, after a momentary pause, the torrent bounds over a shelving rook in one tremendous fall of one hundred and ten feet, and soon unites with the Rhydol, here a similar mountain torrent.